Adam J. Choit

For now, I’ll take a break from all the ‘Crosswalk stuff.   Don’t worry though, I’ll have more updates with that soon.

For now, I’ll turn my attention to completely unrelated random subjects.  God, religion — all that crap.  Crap?  Actually, I guess I shouldn’t refer to that stuff as crap.  After all, god might punish me for it.

Now, I was raised Jewish, although my family was never very religious in the least bit.  We more or less just went through the motions and traditions, because well, that’s what most Jews do.

Nevertheless, I was ingrained with certain ideas as a child.  For one thing, using the phrase “god damn it” or “god damn this” or “god damn that” —- weren’t exactly encouraged in my household.  In fact, I could remember my mother scolding me for occasionally using such phrases.  She told me I’d be punished by god if I continued to say such things.

Anyway, flash forward to the present — today I consider myself an “agnostic Jew” — meaning basically I identify myself with the Jewish people, despite at least questioning the idea that a god exists in the first place.  But if I had to put money on it, I’d bet that there is no god.  Maybe some singular force of nature did indeed get the universe rolling, but surely there is no old man in the sky aware of my every move and thought.

I mean, I consider myself a pretty reasonable and rational person, but even today after I hear myself blurt out something like “Godammit, I don’t think the Mets are going to be very good in 2012″ — I feel a bit of regret afterward.  As if god (Mets fan or not) is now mad at me because I said such things.

It’s interesting though to think about that something my mom said to me as kid still has such an effect on me even to this day, as a fully-grown fairly-reasonable adult.  I guess the lesson here is one should never underestimate the power religiousness and god-lingo has on a young mind.

If a theist feels the maximum amount of guilt after blurting out a “godammit,” and an atheist feel no guilt whatsoever, where does that leave me?  I guess my real question is, now as adult agnostic, am I supposed to feel a little bad each time I say “godammit” or should I just feel guilty —– say, after every other time I use the phrase “godammit” ?…

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged, and I promise new videos very soon — but for now, you’ll have to continue to deal with my poor grammar, and run-on sentences.

At least I’m not as gullible as I used to be when I was a kid.

Back in middle school, I apparently inherited a teacher my older sister once had the joy of learning from.  His name was Mr. Hewlett.  Mr. Hewlett was an older dude, and not the friendliest looking guy in the world either.

Everyone used to say that Mr. Hewlett had both a glass eye, and a wooden leg, presumably due to injuries sustained in WWII.

Despite having both the look and walk to make this all seem somewhat possible, I don’t remember any single one of us ever proving anything.  Although, I’m sure people out there will tell you it’s true — about the glass eye and wooden leg.

Who really knew what this guy’s deal was — but we did know Mr. Hewlett’s ancestors have a town on Long Island named after them, and actually were around the area as early as the 18th century.  I remember Mr. Hewlett used to bring in his old musket, which I believed he said was passed down to him through the generations.  I don’t think it was loaded, or whatever you do with a musket, but still.  The dude was pretty hardcore no-nonsense.

Perhaps most notably, Mr. Hewlett would always scold students who out of habit put their pens in their mouth and chewed on ‘em.  He’d always yell out in a whiney-tone, “Not in your mouth!” — which I’m suddenly realizing now sounds even funnier in my head, for all the wrong reasons.

Anyway, my sister once told me a story about how during one of Mr. Hewlett’s scolding-sessions, he once said “funk you”  to a student.  That’s right. “Funk you.”  Not  “Fuck you.” Funk you.  I guess that’s what threw me off, because it sounded believable in my mind back then — that the teacher would want to censor himself. Because after all, “fuck” one letter altered makes funk.

Eventually, in one way or another the truth came out,  and I found out for sure that Mr. Hewlett did not say funk you to a student.  Such shenanigans.  I guess I believed it for a minute. Whatever.

It’s still funny to this day to me, to envision Mr. Hewlett saying funk you.  You should try it now. Envision and hear your Mr. Hewlett-type teacher from when you were a kid saying funk you to a student.

I don’t know if this is something specific to Jewish mothers. Perhaps it can apply to all mothers.  Perhaps, you don’t even have to be a mother for this to apply, but sometimes it’s just hard to understand the logic (or lack thereof) of others.

Recently I took a trip back east to NY, and it was my last night in my childhood home before I was due to take an early morning flight the next day back to Los Angeles.  I have a grandfather who lives in Queens, about a half-hour from where I grew up, out on Long Island.

Anyway, my mom told me, “Call your grandfather and say goodbye.”  What?  Why?  What is the point of calling him to say goodbye on the phone?  I understand the point of the in-person goodbye, but the goodbye phone call?  A phone call sounds exactly the same whether I’m calling my grandfather in Queens from Long Island, or I’m calling him from California.

If my grandpa didn’t even know when my flight out of NY was, I could’ve called him from California after I got back — just to say goodbye to him.

The other day I was chatting online with my friend Steve, and like 98% of our conversations, this wasn’t one of the serious nature in the least bit.

Hey started typing in capital letters by mistake, but went with it:

Steve:  I’M ONLY USING CAPS — I’M YELLIN EVERYTHING.

This is when I had to explain to him that using caps (this all applies to texting too) does not necessarily equal yelling.

Using exclamation points means yelling:

“This is yelling!”

Using capital letters just means that either you’re trying to be really clear about something, or possibly sarcastic.

“batteries are in the TOP DRAWER.”

or

“YES.  I HONESTLY THINK SARAH PALIN IS A BRIGHT WOMAN.”

Now, you can also use exclamation points with capital letters as well sometimes.

“THIS IS YELLING!”

That was yelling, and these are the rules.

To continue on with the names theme, lets finally get things straight with my middle name, or lack there of.

When I was born, I was not given a middle name.  However, I was given a middle initial. That initial is “J”.  Don’t ask me how or why my parents thought of doing this.  In fact, my older sister has the same deal, but her middle initial is “R”.  At least I got a hip letter, like J.  There’s Michael J. Fox, Homer J. Simpson, and of course me.   R doesn’t sound nearly as hip, or slide off the tongue as easily.

In terms of the reasoning behind this, I think I at least understand why it was a J chosen for me.  Like I mentioned in my last post, Jews get the kids’ names from the deceased, and although my parents couldn’t remember who I was named after when I recently asked about the origins of my name, my grandpa seems to believe the name came from his grandfather’s brother, Jacob….but who the hell really knows for sure.

But why not then just use Jacob as my middle name?  Why only the J?  My parents don’t seem to remember why they chose to do this.  In the past they told me stuff like “Middle names are pointless” or “We don’t believe in middle names”…Maybe it’s something to do with my mom not liking her middle name (Claire), or my dad not even having one at all.

In any event, my middle initial stands for nothing.  After I tell people this, they will either a) not believe me, and try to guess what the name is because they think I’m too embarrassed to say, or b) try to think of a middle name for me.

I’ve thought about creating my own middle name, but lets get real.  I’m way too lazy and don’t care nearly enough to follow through with any of this.

In this Facebook/iPhone/everyone has a camera world we live in, it often seems like it’s almost become accepted for anybody to take a photo of anybody or anything at just about any time.

The other day I was headed out to lunch with my grandma, and as we were walking to our table in the restaurant, she spotted one of her friends sitting at another table.  Her friend was with her family, so we went over briefly to say hello, and to have a quick chat.  Shortly thereafter, we sat down to eat, at our table.

The friend and her family soon finished their lunch, and as they were walking out, they passed by us.  My grandma’s friend (also elderly) and her daughter, hovered around our table to chat some more.  No problem.

Then the daughter (a middle aged woman) took out her camera.  Without asking first, she took a photo of my grandma.  Okayyyyyy.  Fine.  Then she took a photo of me and my grandma.  Weirded me out a little, but that was ok, I guess.  Perhaps she had plans to send my grandma the photo.  Then this middle aged woman, who I don’t know from a hole in the wall took a photo of me, and just me alone — without asking.

“Who the fuck gave you permission to do that?,” I said to myself in my head.  I think that’s incredibly rude — to just assume it’s okay to take a photo of someone without asking.  But what was I to do in such a situation?  Yell at my grandma’s friend’s daughter?  Make her delete the photo right then and there?  Ask her why she took a photo of just me?  Ask her what she planned to do with the shot?

Perhaps I’m making too big a deal of this, but if you want to take a photo of me, just ask first.   Just because you have a camera, you don’t have the license to take photos of anyone you want.  I’m still mad about this! lol

Disclaimer: The following is not something I’d ever follow through on, and is not reflective of how I feel about my current work, or any past employment.

I wanted to pass along an idea my friend had…

At my friend’s office (workplace), someone left a graduate school application in the printer.  The person didn’t really have immediate plans to leave the company, but the boss found the application, and spoke to the employee about it.  Things got straightened out, but this gave my friend an idea.

He thought that maybe for the coworkers he doesn’t like, he’d create fake resumes for them, and then plant them into the printer.  Cause all kinds of trouble.  The only thing is, is that he probably should print out the resumes somewhere besides work, in order to avoid this all being traced back to him.

Ya know what though.  Why not just print out resumes for everyone at the company, and then leave ‘em all in the printer.  Let the boss find them, and be concerned everyone might be leaving the company soon.  Did someone say raises for everyone, and 35-hour workweeks?

I’ve been Skype-ing for a little while now, and must admit all this technology is pretty impressive.  I mostly have been using Skype to co-write with a friend who lives on the East Coast.  We’re able to talk in real-time, and share our screens so the other person can see live edits being made.  It’s pretty awesome.

After using the video function a little more lately just for shits and giggles,  I gotta tell ya, I’m still getting used to another person being able to see me.  In fact, it’s quite easy to forget you’re on a webcam.   (Not that I would ever pick my nose).

Anyway,  Skype is quite the modern software, enabling people all over the world to communicate and exchange ideas.  But what do I like most about Skype?

Making meowing sounds and totally messing with my friend’s cat.

My friend Bozzzy suggested this one.  Some concert venues sell mostly general admission tickets, and are standing-room only in what’s a big floor space.  For example, there’s a venue in NY called Terminal 5, which fits this description.  Also, the Hollywood Palladium here in Los Angles has a similar setup.

I’m not the tallest guy in the world, so sometimes if I’m in the back, it’s not always easy to see the stage over everyone’s heads. That’s when my friend suggested that the floor should be tilted, at a very slight angle, as it moves toward the back, away from the stage.

Of course, the drunkest people should not only be near the front, it’s where they should start.

The really could only work at concert-only venues.  I mean, I can’t imagine a tilted playing surface would work so well in sports like hockey and basketball.

It’s so ingrained in our culture and society to respect and obey your parents.  10 Commandment-type stuff is what I’m referring to.  But what if your parents (either mom, dad, or both) are assholes?  Being assholes doesn’t necessarily mean they are criminals, abusive, or are vile human beings — it could just mean that they’re neglectful and/or unloving parents.

Whatever the reason you think you’re mom or dad is an asshole, you may in fact be right on the money with your assessment.

Parents are people too, and unfortunately often very flawed ones.  I think kids often grow up feeling obligated to love their parents, and continue to do so into adulthood.  All I’m saying is that there is no right or wrong here, and if you feel that it’s the right thing to do to cut your parents out of your life entirely, I have no problem supporting that.

In today’s landscape of American life, the whole idea of what family means has in many ways been redefined.   As long as a person is both giving and receiving love in his/her life, it doesn’t matter if parents are part of that.