As many of you are aware, your Aunt Slugger is getting married. I don't really understand how this is happening, but here at Aunt Slugger HQ, we never look a gift horse in the mouth.
Anyway, it turns out that planning a wedding is among the most painful things a person can do, and I include surgery without anesthesia and shaking hands with Rush Limbaugh in that statement. My original plan to elope in Vegas was quickly nixed and now the wedding has turned into a big affair where I will most likely be prohibited from wearing cutoff jean shorts.
My mother has taken over the bulk of the wedding planning ever since I very sincerely proposed having Taco Bell cater the event. She has left only a few things up to me, like selecting the color scheme and the groom. This is fine with me, since left to my own devices I would most likely put something together at the last minute that is only marginally more interesting than a Bible study.
I have also taken a keen interest in the invitations. There is nothing I hate more than a wedding invitation that takes itself too seriously. I found some invitations online that look as though a color printer has vomited flowers and birds onto fine linen paper. I filled out the form with all the usual shit, and then on the back, I added the following quote from Woody Allen:
"I was nauseous and tingly all over. I was either in love or I had smallpox."
I like this quote because it combines both love and smallpox, which is surprisingly difficult to do. And I thought it would set the tone for the wedding so that no one shows up thinking they can't make an infectious disease joke on the dance floor.
Anyway, I ordered a sample of this invitation and didn't think about it any more until I received the following email from the printer:
"Design contains text or image that is in violation of an individual’s rights of celebrity/publicity."
So I called them for clarification, and they sent me this email:
"In this instance, your order contained products with a Woody Allen quote on back, which [we are] unable to produce on merchandise as it would be a violation of their rights of celebrity/publicity."
True to form, I emailed an asshole response about how stupid their rationale was. They were unamused.
So that is why I am here today. I am here to ask you, my loyal readers, to help me find Woody Allen and ask him if I can use his quote on my wedding invitations.
Mr. Allen, if you're reading this, can I quote you on my wedding invitation? I have always been a huge fan, and I can't see the name "J. Edgar Hoover" without thinking about the movie "Bananas." In exchange for your support, you are welcome to attend my wedding, since I assume there is nothing you would enjoy more than spending a summer weekend in Fort Wayne, Indiana.*
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Aunt Slugger
*I can actually think of about 75,000 things that sound better than that, but I won't mention them here in an effort to make the offer sound more attractive.
Answering life's deepest questions
Showing posts with label Smallpox. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Smallpox. Show all posts
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Vaccinating Your Kids
Dear Aunt Slugger,
I am the father of a one-year-old baby. I am trying to decide whether to vaccinate him and I was wondering what your thoughts are, as a professional advice columnist with no medical training?
Sincerely,
Norman W. Carpenter, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin
Hi Norman,
It turns out that you have come to the right place, because despite my lack of formal medical training, I am literate, which is actually the only skill you need in determining whether to vaccinate your kids. I also, as it turns out, probably have a few screws loose because there is nothing I enjoy more than a good non-fiction book about diseases. I wish I were joking, but I am not. A quick look at my Amazon.com wish list and you find yourself asking if I'm cooking up biological weapons in my kitchen or if I just like to read about bleeding from the eyes.
Over the years, I have read books about smallpox, ebola, polio, rabies, and prion diseases, among other various horrifying and tragic conditions. I distinctly remember reading the ebola book on the elliptical at the gym and looking down at the handles and thinking maybe I should just hit those with some Clorox nine more times. And the rabies book had me side-eying my indoor cat.
One of the many takeaways from most of these books is that many viruses that once haunted humanity are no longer a threat to us because of vaccines. For those of you who do not recall any smallpox outbreaks (and if you live in a developed nation, you do not), smallpox is NOT. A. DAMN. JOKE. It had a ridiculously high fatality rate and was horrifically painful. Finding a vaccine for it and eradicating it is one of the great medical triumphs in human history.
And then you've got polio. If you are nostalgic for simpler times, like the 1940s, then don't vaccinate against polio and see how you like living out your days in an iron lung. Or measles. If you love blind children, then by all means, don't vaccinate against measles.
The reasons people cite for not vaccinating are stupid. Yes, I said it: Stupid. This (and the fact that I never went to medical school) is why I am not a doctor. Because as a doctor, you can't really tell your patients that they're dumb as shit for not vaccinating. Your Aunt Slugger's bedside manner would be atrocious and the only patients I would be able to treat would have to be in a coma.
People, for the love of Christ, vaccinate your children. And you don't have to trust me, your advice columnist-turned-armchair unlicensed physician. Listen to the Mayo Clinic. Listen to the World Health Organization. Listen to the American Academy of Pediatrics. Do not listen to the anti-vaccine whackjobs who were thoroughly and effectively ridiculed in this episode of Penn & Teller.
Also, to the upper middle class white people that this article had to call out: CUT IT OUT. Or look at a picture of someone with hemorrhagic smallpox and tell me you're glad he or she didn't vaccinate. He might be dead, but at least he doesn't have extra mercury in his system!
Sincerely,
Aunt Slugger
I am the father of a one-year-old baby. I am trying to decide whether to vaccinate him and I was wondering what your thoughts are, as a professional advice columnist with no medical training?
Sincerely,
Norman W. Carpenter, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin
Hi Norman,
It turns out that you have come to the right place, because despite my lack of formal medical training, I am literate, which is actually the only skill you need in determining whether to vaccinate your kids. I also, as it turns out, probably have a few screws loose because there is nothing I enjoy more than a good non-fiction book about diseases. I wish I were joking, but I am not. A quick look at my Amazon.com wish list and you find yourself asking if I'm cooking up biological weapons in my kitchen or if I just like to read about bleeding from the eyes.
Over the years, I have read books about smallpox, ebola, polio, rabies, and prion diseases, among other various horrifying and tragic conditions. I distinctly remember reading the ebola book on the elliptical at the gym and looking down at the handles and thinking maybe I should just hit those with some Clorox nine more times. And the rabies book had me side-eying my indoor cat.
One of the many takeaways from most of these books is that many viruses that once haunted humanity are no longer a threat to us because of vaccines. For those of you who do not recall any smallpox outbreaks (and if you live in a developed nation, you do not), smallpox is NOT. A. DAMN. JOKE. It had a ridiculously high fatality rate and was horrifically painful. Finding a vaccine for it and eradicating it is one of the great medical triumphs in human history.
And then you've got polio. If you are nostalgic for simpler times, like the 1940s, then don't vaccinate against polio and see how you like living out your days in an iron lung. Or measles. If you love blind children, then by all means, don't vaccinate against measles.
The reasons people cite for not vaccinating are stupid. Yes, I said it: Stupid. This (and the fact that I never went to medical school) is why I am not a doctor. Because as a doctor, you can't really tell your patients that they're dumb as shit for not vaccinating. Your Aunt Slugger's bedside manner would be atrocious and the only patients I would be able to treat would have to be in a coma.
People, for the love of Christ, vaccinate your children. And you don't have to trust me, your advice columnist-turned-armchair unlicensed physician. Listen to the Mayo Clinic. Listen to the World Health Organization. Listen to the American Academy of Pediatrics. Do not listen to the anti-vaccine whackjobs who were thoroughly and effectively ridiculed in this episode of Penn & Teller.
Also, to the upper middle class white people that this article had to call out: CUT IT OUT. Or look at a picture of someone with hemorrhagic smallpox and tell me you're glad he or she didn't vaccinate. He might be dead, but at least he doesn't have extra mercury in his system!
Sincerely,
Aunt Slugger
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Delta Airlines
Dear Aunt Slugger,
I currently suffer from a variety of health problems, including terminal cancer, kidney failure, schizophrenia, mad cow disease, leprosy, and smallpox. Sometimes, these conditions are hard to manage, and I start to feel depressed about my impending death and--
You know what? If I had a dollar for every whiny letter I get from cancer-ridden schizophrenic lepers, I'd be installing a solid gold toilet in my bathroom right now. The world has enough problems without having to deal with some asshole bitching and moaning about being the first case of hemorrhagic smallpox since 1978.
So instead, we're going to talk about something far more important, which is, of course, your Aunt Slugger's recent struggle with a certain mainstream American airline that shall remain nameless in this column, unless of course that name is accidentally featured in large, boldface letters in the column's headline, which would be unfortunate, but also a sad reality of the internet.
As many of my loyal readers are aware, Aunt Slugger's advice column is headquartered in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which, as you may also be aware, was hit with a massive snowstorm over this past weekend. This past weekend also featured the Christmas holiday, which, for my loyal readers in remote areas of the Amazon River Basin, is a major holiday here in the United States. A few facts on the Christmas holiday:
1.) It always falls on December 25th.
2.) There is a high volume of air travel over the Christmas holiday so that people can see their families.
3.) Because of breakthroughs in modern calendar technology, there is a high likelihood of experiencing winter weather on or around December 25th.
So just keep those facts in your back pocket for a moment while your Aunt Slugger explains her specific situation. Your Aunt Slugger flew from Boston Logan International Airport to a mid-sized Midwestern city. On Christmas Eve, I checked the weather report and saw that most of the East Coast was going to be slammed with snow the day after Christmas, which was also the day I was slated to fly back to Boston. Just to reiterate a key point here: Your Aunt Slugger, who is a professional advice columnist with no formal training in meteorology, knew, several days beforehand, that it was going to snow at around the same time she was scheduled to arrive in Boston. Perhaps it's a stretch to assume this, but I tend to think that at least one airline employee would have also been privy to this weather report, which, for the record, is publicly available using newfangled technology like "the internet" and "newspapers."
Fast forward to the day after Christmas. The East Coast is getting slaughtered with snow and high-speed winds. In Massachusetts, houses are literally falling into the ocean. It was the sort of weather that makes a New Englander hunker down in the basement with extra supplies and a Midwesterner like myself draft blueprints for a bitchin' snowman. But it was not the sort of weather you fly a plane in, even if you are from the Midwest. So I was not surprised when my flight was canceled. I was surprised, though, when the flight was rescheduled for the following morning at 5:45a.m., when (again, using the widely available weather report) it was still supposed to be snowing and gusting wind.
So I phoned the airline. I received the following message (not verbatim, but close enough): "Due to extreme weather conditions, we are unavailable to take your call at this time. Please call again later, or use our website."
So I logged onto the website, which provided absolutely no pertinent information. I tried to call again. I got the same message. I went to Target and bought 50% off Christmas wrapping paper. I called again. I ate a donut. I called again. I fought with my brother over which variety of pizza to get for lunch. I called again. I read two chapters in a book. I called again.
Finally, after getting the same pre-recorded message again, I borrowed a car and drove down to the local airport. I found a representative for my specific airline. I explained my situation. I asked if I could be rescheduled for a later flight the next day or the day after because I was concerned that my flight would be canceled because of the snow. "No fucking way" was the response. The "fucking" was silent, but implied via tone and facial expression.
I got home and checked the status of my new 5:45a.m. flight. As you have already guessed because you are not a tub of unsalted butter, my flight was canceled. I called the airline and received the same pre-recorded message. So I borrowed a car AGAIN and drove back to the airport AGAIN, where I pleaded my case to the same employee. After much sighing and eyeball rolls, she put me on an 8am flight back to Boston on Wednesday - three days after my original departure.
Before I get a bunch of angry e-mails from people who work in the customer service industry, let me clarify two things:
1.) I am aware that airplanes should not be expected to fly in the snow.
2.) I am not one of those people who screams at customer service professionals.
So don't send me some typo-ridden letter pissing about how these people are underpaid and overworked and harassed all day and how I should let the occasional eyeball roll slide and so on and so forth. One of my first jobs was as a welfare caseworker, with over 300 cases and a government cubicle in the basement of an old Sears store. I had the monopoly on overworked and underpaid, so don't talk to me about overworked and under-fucking-paid, OK? Thank you.
Where was I? Ah, yes. So I got home and let my new flight details marinate for a little bit. I tried calling the airline several more times, but got the same message. I saw reports of other stranded passengers receiving vouchers for future air travel.
Finally, yesterday (Tuesday), I got through to someone at the airline. I explained my situation. They confirmed my flight details for Wednesday. I explained that as a longtime airline customer (I had in fact used frequent flier miles to pay for the ticket), I found it frustrating that I had to drive out to the airport twice to reschedule my flight because I couldn't get someone on the phone. I asked if I could get a free upgrade or two free bags on my next flight for the inconvenience.
As you already know because you have at least a preschool education, they told me to go fuck myself.
So this morning, I got up and headed to the airport in the frigid, silent, pre-dawn hours of the Midwest. At this point, I have been wearing the same pair of pants for five days. I am tired. But I am eager to get on the plane and get back to my apartment and my rigorous schedule of snacking and drafting advice columns.
Obviously, I did not make it out on this morning's flight. I am still in the Midwest. Still in the same pair of pants. And still five hours of flying away from unloading these half off gift tags into my closet.
However, there is a bright side to all of this, which is that it's refreshing to see that a business model that involves being under-prepared for a known disruption to the core service of your particular industry and then not giving two fucking shits about your customers not only works, but also sets you up to receive federal aid money.
So you see--what was your name again? You, the cancer patient scratching at that smallpox lesion? Well, whatever your name is, let's just see who has it worse off. At least you're not dealing with the airline industry.
Sincerely,
Aunt Slugger
I currently suffer from a variety of health problems, including terminal cancer, kidney failure, schizophrenia, mad cow disease, leprosy, and smallpox. Sometimes, these conditions are hard to manage, and I start to feel depressed about my impending death and--
You know what? If I had a dollar for every whiny letter I get from cancer-ridden schizophrenic lepers, I'd be installing a solid gold toilet in my bathroom right now. The world has enough problems without having to deal with some asshole bitching and moaning about being the first case of hemorrhagic smallpox since 1978.
So instead, we're going to talk about something far more important, which is, of course, your Aunt Slugger's recent struggle with a certain mainstream American airline that shall remain nameless in this column, unless of course that name is accidentally featured in large, boldface letters in the column's headline, which would be unfortunate, but also a sad reality of the internet.
As many of my loyal readers are aware, Aunt Slugger's advice column is headquartered in Cambridge, Massachusetts, which, as you may also be aware, was hit with a massive snowstorm over this past weekend. This past weekend also featured the Christmas holiday, which, for my loyal readers in remote areas of the Amazon River Basin, is a major holiday here in the United States. A few facts on the Christmas holiday:
1.) It always falls on December 25th.
2.) There is a high volume of air travel over the Christmas holiday so that people can see their families.
3.) Because of breakthroughs in modern calendar technology, there is a high likelihood of experiencing winter weather on or around December 25th.
So just keep those facts in your back pocket for a moment while your Aunt Slugger explains her specific situation. Your Aunt Slugger flew from Boston Logan International Airport to a mid-sized Midwestern city. On Christmas Eve, I checked the weather report and saw that most of the East Coast was going to be slammed with snow the day after Christmas, which was also the day I was slated to fly back to Boston. Just to reiterate a key point here: Your Aunt Slugger, who is a professional advice columnist with no formal training in meteorology, knew, several days beforehand, that it was going to snow at around the same time she was scheduled to arrive in Boston. Perhaps it's a stretch to assume this, but I tend to think that at least one airline employee would have also been privy to this weather report, which, for the record, is publicly available using newfangled technology like "the internet" and "newspapers."
Fast forward to the day after Christmas. The East Coast is getting slaughtered with snow and high-speed winds. In Massachusetts, houses are literally falling into the ocean. It was the sort of weather that makes a New Englander hunker down in the basement with extra supplies and a Midwesterner like myself draft blueprints for a bitchin' snowman. But it was not the sort of weather you fly a plane in, even if you are from the Midwest. So I was not surprised when my flight was canceled. I was surprised, though, when the flight was rescheduled for the following morning at 5:45a.m., when (again, using the widely available weather report) it was still supposed to be snowing and gusting wind.
So I phoned the airline. I received the following message (not verbatim, but close enough): "Due to extreme weather conditions, we are unavailable to take your call at this time. Please call again later, or use our website."
So I logged onto the website, which provided absolutely no pertinent information. I tried to call again. I got the same message. I went to Target and bought 50% off Christmas wrapping paper. I called again. I ate a donut. I called again. I fought with my brother over which variety of pizza to get for lunch. I called again. I read two chapters in a book. I called again.
Finally, after getting the same pre-recorded message again, I borrowed a car and drove down to the local airport. I found a representative for my specific airline. I explained my situation. I asked if I could be rescheduled for a later flight the next day or the day after because I was concerned that my flight would be canceled because of the snow. "No fucking way" was the response. The "fucking" was silent, but implied via tone and facial expression.
I got home and checked the status of my new 5:45a.m. flight. As you have already guessed because you are not a tub of unsalted butter, my flight was canceled. I called the airline and received the same pre-recorded message. So I borrowed a car AGAIN and drove back to the airport AGAIN, where I pleaded my case to the same employee. After much sighing and eyeball rolls, she put me on an 8am flight back to Boston on Wednesday - three days after my original departure.
Before I get a bunch of angry e-mails from people who work in the customer service industry, let me clarify two things:
1.) I am aware that airplanes should not be expected to fly in the snow.
2.) I am not one of those people who screams at customer service professionals.
So don't send me some typo-ridden letter pissing about how these people are underpaid and overworked and harassed all day and how I should let the occasional eyeball roll slide and so on and so forth. One of my first jobs was as a welfare caseworker, with over 300 cases and a government cubicle in the basement of an old Sears store. I had the monopoly on overworked and underpaid, so don't talk to me about overworked and under-fucking-paid, OK? Thank you.
Where was I? Ah, yes. So I got home and let my new flight details marinate for a little bit. I tried calling the airline several more times, but got the same message. I saw reports of other stranded passengers receiving vouchers for future air travel.
Finally, yesterday (Tuesday), I got through to someone at the airline. I explained my situation. They confirmed my flight details for Wednesday. I explained that as a longtime airline customer (I had in fact used frequent flier miles to pay for the ticket), I found it frustrating that I had to drive out to the airport twice to reschedule my flight because I couldn't get someone on the phone. I asked if I could get a free upgrade or two free bags on my next flight for the inconvenience.
As you already know because you have at least a preschool education, they told me to go fuck myself.
So this morning, I got up and headed to the airport in the frigid, silent, pre-dawn hours of the Midwest. At this point, I have been wearing the same pair of pants for five days. I am tired. But I am eager to get on the plane and get back to my apartment and my rigorous schedule of snacking and drafting advice columns.
Obviously, I did not make it out on this morning's flight. I am still in the Midwest. Still in the same pair of pants. And still five hours of flying away from unloading these half off gift tags into my closet.
However, there is a bright side to all of this, which is that it's refreshing to see that a business model that involves being under-prepared for a known disruption to the core service of your particular industry and then not giving two fucking shits about your customers not only works, but also sets you up to receive federal aid money.
So you see--what was your name again? You, the cancer patient scratching at that smallpox lesion? Well, whatever your name is, let's just see who has it worse off. At least you're not dealing with the airline industry.
Sincerely,
Aunt Slugger
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