A Tough Week to be Famous

It's hard to believe that just this week we have lost three icons from my childhood.*

On Tuesday, Ed McMahon passed away. Admittedly, his death was not a complete shock. He was 86 years old and not in fantastic health. He had a myriad of financial issues that couldn't have made his life easy. Nevertheless, we lost a great sidekick and a heck of a funny guy. In my opinion Star Search wasn't one of his better moments, but ya know what? We all make mistakes.

Yesterday we were dealt a double blow with the loss of both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. While we all knew Farrah was really sick and in a lot of pain, it's still shocking to lose an icon. I'm the wrong sex and a little young to have been influenced by that famous poster, but I clearly recall lots and lots of girls/women with that famous haircut. Hell, some still have it today. I don't think they got the memo that the '70s had ended. She was attractive with the brightest smile I'd ever seen and I used to do the Charlie's Angels poses with my friends on the playground.

The death of Michael Jackson is a whole other deal. While he wasn't exactly the picture of physical or emotional health he was really pretty young. I know that 50 year olds die all of the time, but I always thought of him as basically being my age. That's not really true, but I certainly feel like we grew up together. Everyone talks about the Thriller album, which was very cool, but I played my "Off the Wall" album until is was nearly unplayable. There was a little confusion when my sister and I had an argument about "riding the boogie" and how that was not nearly as disgusting as I thought it was, but I digress. Give me a break, I was 8.

All three of these people will be remembered for their contributions (some more so for their scandals). Rest in peace.

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* I'm not going to count David Carradine because he died last week and I wasn't one of the kids with the Kung Fu lunchbox.

Relationship ROI

I asked my friend the other day how far into our lives we should carry the ROI (return on investment) concept. Can we carry this idea to relationships?

Here's the formula: To calculate ROI, the benefit (return) of an investment is divided by the cost of the investment; the result is expressed as a percentage or a ratio.

This means that the higher the percentage of return on your investment (or rate of return), the better investment you have made. It sounds to me like the perfect definition of an equitable relationship.

If I give a lot of myself to my partner, but he doesn't give me much in return, then my relationship ROI is low and his is high. He's getting a pretty good deal and I'm not. However, if I give a lot of myself and he gives a lot of himself then the relationship's ROI is high for both of us.

I know that the fact we're talking about the gray areas of emotions and love bring in all new funky factors. I don't mean to imply that relationship ROI is anywhere near as black and white as financial ROI (and that's not really crystal clear either). I think with relationships, like savings accounts, you can't look at the immediate ROI. You need to take a larger sample to get a real feel for what's going on.

Certainly all relationships are not created equal. Why do some people have a tiny amount they can put in before they're maxed out while others seem to have an endless pool of wonderful returns? Why are we willing to tolerate lessened returns from some but not others? What and how long does it take for us to figure out that the return is too low for us to tolerate? Honestly, I don't know how it all works.

Maybe, just maybe, we need to take a step back and figure out if the people in our lives are getting decent returns from us. Are we giving enough of ourselves to sustain the emotional investment they have in us? Are we worth the time they spend on us?

Ah, screw all this. I'm going to buy a lottery ticket.

Sand Therapy

Things in this little corner of the world have been relatively stressful lately. Despite trying to hoard our vacation time, we decided we still had to take a little of it to get away. Thank goodness we did.

There's nothing quite like sticking your feet in cool blue (okay, bluish-green) water and then relaxing on the sand under a huge umbrella. For a couple of days last week, that's exactly what we did. The weather was stifling but the water was cool and the stress was momentarily soothed.

How cool is it to be 300 miles away from home and then you walk into a store with boiled crawfish strewn all over a table? Turns out some ladies from the westbank retired and moved to Sandestin, Florida and were having a craving. In true New Orleanian fashion, they shared and it was awesome!

Not everything went as expected. Work called for my honey and ended our time a little sooner than we would have wanted. It was okay, though. We still got to share our bottle of wine on the beach under the stars. I can't ask for much more than that.

So it's back to the grind. Back to waiting to hear what happens next regarding our jobs. Blech.

That's okay, I tan lines and sand in my car to prove that I relaxed for a least a little while.

Political Prisoner or Prisoner of Politics

Recently, New Orleans' Mayor Ray Nagin was quarantined in China in order to prevent the possible spread of the swine flu from a passenger near the mayor on his flight to China. The story itself is not particularly entertaining unless you have felt held captive by the mayor like some of us have.

First, let me say that I don't wish any ill health upon our mayor. I hope that he comes through this with flying colors. However, I can tell you that some of us find a smile spreading across our faces at the idea of the of the Chinese government's actions. It may sound mean or cruel, but it is what it is. It feels like he's gotten a little taste of his own medicine.

I moved back to New Orleans one year after Katrina because it is my hometown and the city that I love. I only left because the company that I worked for at the time relocated to Houston. The job I took to come home was a step down from what I was doing before, but that was a price I was willing to pay to come back. I had no way of knowing what was in store for me.

The upside is that I'm home. The downside is that being home means having to deal with certain unpleasant circumstances. Crime is horrible, recovery is slow and jobs are lacking. Add to that the fact that some of us feel constantly duped by our mayor. Never mind semantics and stupid speeches, a lot of us are forced to live under less than ideal circumstances while we wait for our government to permit us to be released.

Mind you, I know I live here by choice, but I still feel held captive by a man I think has his own agenda. I'm not sure exactly what his agenda is, but there must be something else there. His speeches are more like sermons and he constantly tells us how we pick on him. Well Mr. Mayor, guess what? We feel picked on too. Sure, you don't check my work schedule, but my boss does. And you know what? We're your bosses. You work for each and every one of us. We have the right to know your daily activities. Certainly I don't think I have any right to know what you do in your personal time and you are definitely allowed to take a vacation, but don't tell me that I don't have the right to know what you do on a daily basis to make my life better. That's not true. It's my duty to hold you accountable. That's what makes this a government of the people, by the people and for the people. I know that I could leave, but I love my city and I want to be part of the solution.

So pardon me, Mr. Mayor, if I am apathetic about your quarantine. I feel like I've been quarantined in my own hometown for the last three years. You don't have any control? Well, neither do we. You aren't happy with the way the government is handling this? Well, neither are we. Is the Chinese government leading you astray? Gee, I hope not. It really sucks when government officials tell you what you want to hear without regard for what is actually true,

I guess the upside for New Orleanians is that at least we know our release date.