15 Minutes

I am not sure if I ever told you about a particularly embarrassing 15 minutes of fame I had a while ago. This happened in April of 2014. I was watching this news program and one of the topics of discussion was a female school teacher that had been accused of giving an under-age male student a lap dance.

I had posted a comment on their Facebook page acknowledging a double standard in these situations. Male sex offenders are always treated more severely than their female counterparts. The former often have the book thrown at them, whereas the latter often receive probation and very little jail time, a slap on the wrist by comparison.

I think the reason for this double standard is because every red-blooded male that remembers his depraved youth has probably been “hot for teacher” at least once. We have a hard time accepting 15-to-17-year-old boys as “victims” because deep down we wish we could have had such an experience at that age.

Unfortunately, I did not employ the best choice of words when trying to make my point. I came across as a but sarcastic in tone. I believe I said something along the lines of it being every school boy’s dream to be seduced by a hot teacher (or words to that effect).

After I submitted the comment, I quickly forgot about it. That is, until the following week when the revisited the topic. The producers selected a few of the Facebook and Twitter comments to read on the air. Only one was from a male audience member. Guess who?



Every year on Sept. 11, people ask me where I was when the world changed. It happened at a point in my life when I was so depressed that nothing else registered. I had just turned 21 one month earlier, I was unsure of where my life was headed, I was missing friends, etc. It was not a happy time. I do remember turning on the television and listening to the live coverage, but I wasn’t really paying attention; it was just background noise as I was too busy getting ready to feed the cows that morning. But as days turned into weeks, I was slowly brought back to reality. In the 14 years since, I don’t believe we’re any safer now than were on Sept. 10 of that year. I do believe we’re less free. I believe we’ve ignored the wisdom of Benjamin Franklin and have traded our liberties to purchase a little temporary safety.

Guns, Guns, Guns

I can understand that emotions are all over the place in the aftermath of a tragedy. There is always the feeling that something should be done to prevent such tragedies from happening again. In the wake of a mass shooting, there’s always a call for increased gun control legislation.

Now, I am not a gun nut; however, I fail to see how gun control deters gun crime. Let’s look at the statistics. Detroit, Michigan, has the highest per capita murder rate of any American city – 54.6 for every 100,000 inhabitants – according to the ever-reliable Wikipedia. If Detroit were its own country, it would just beat Venezuela for second place as the most murderous country in the world. The American city with the lowest per capita murder rate? Gun nut central: Plano, Texas, with 0.4.

I don’t know it just seems to me that gun control only serves to disarm law abiding citizens, making the job of the criminal much easier.


Hot For Teacher

In all of these recent cases involving female teachers having sex with their male students, there seems to be one common denominator. These women are only caught because someone overhears their “victims” bragging about it. Now, I don’t want anyone to get the impression that I condone this behavior. Any teacher that has sex with a student should be immediately terminated and never be allowed to teach again. The fact that there’s a double standard in how these cases are dealt with disgusts me. If the gender roles were reversed, if a male teacher had sex with a female student, he would be crucified. A hot blonde, on the other hand, gets a slap on the wrist. That being said: If you’re a 16-year-old boy, and you’re lucky enough to bed your hot teacher, do yourself a favor and keep your damn mouth shut.

American Sniper

I saw “American Sniper” a few nights ago. It was very moving, a credit to Clint Eastwood’s direction. I am not sure if the film would have been as effective with someone else in the director’s chair. I know that there will be those on the political left (e.g., Michael Moore) and perhaps some anti-war libertarians (e.g., Alex Jones) that will dismiss the film as pro-war propaganda. I will be the first to admit that I have my share of disagreements with parts of our foreign policy. However, this is an issue to be taken to the politicians. What I got from the film had nothing to do with the rightness or wrongness of the war in Iraq, but rather the hell that the U.S. soldier has to endure. The soldier does what he is told and often has to pay a heavy price, even if they make it back home alive. Sometimes the hardest wounds to heal aren’t physical.

Thoughts From The Heart

When you love someone, even if it is only a friend, you give a part of yourself to that other person. The tragedy is, you do not even realize it until after they leave your life and you are left feeling incomplete. Their absence affects you. In vain, you spend your days in search of something or someone to fill that void (for me, it was talk radio). They say that time heals all wounds. I do not agree; the only thing time can do is make the pain easier to live with.