Richard Kriheli

pri·vate [prahy-vit] – adjective – confined to or intended only for the persons immediately concerned; confidential. personal and not publicly expressed.

That word is the hottest topic of debate in the realm of social media yet it’s something most don’t fully grasp. Privacy, schmivacy. Where do folks get off huffing about privacy in an open network? Seriously guys, this has to stop right now. You have no idea how silly you look. It has gotten so out of hand that the New York Times of all places even breaks it down with a chart that sizes up legalities against the US Constitution. Really? Has society fallen that deep into a pit of paranoia?

In defense of the legal discourse that comes from social networking sites : they must have it – basically because opportunistic folks are capable of bringing down a company with lawsuits. Consider the discourse one big insurance policy. And unless you haven’t noticed, anytime a change is made to said policy, they post a prominent note about it – a note I am guessing most folks ignore. Enter the neurotics – they dissect the note and – OH MY GOD, facebook will make public my photo I posted of me jet-skiing in Aruba to travel companies! The outrage! Puh-lease.

Look folks – YOU control your online lives from the onset. YOU choose what to broadcast and what not to. I’d like to emphasize the word broadcast. What you are neglecting is that no matter how private your settings become, the ONLINE world will always be public. There aren’t any do-overs and take-backs here. The sooner you realize this, the better your lives will be. If you slap your aunt in the face, you can never take that slap back. The same thing applies to publishing things to the internet. It’s in the rulebook from day one. A rulebook you did not read or understand. The delete button is the biggest illusion on the world wide web.

So I beg you. Please stop the whining. Facebook and other social networks will not re-architect themselves for you. And unless you are a spy, a terrorist, a criminal or a cheat – chances are there is little you should be worried about. Moreover, there is little you can do to change things. In short, get over yourselves. The social networks give you adequate privacy controls for displaying your data. If something is private or personal, it does not belong on a social network, period. If something shouldn’t be in the public domain – don’t post it. End of story.

The speculative room was labled “Living Spaces of the Future” or something like it. It had floating appliances and lots of shiny gadgets and unrecognizable washrooms. I was about 8 years old and I was mesmerized by this display at Disney’s Epcot Center. The Jetsons never really impressed me, but this coupled with an onslaught of Sci-Fi TV shows and feature length flicks had me completely sold. I saw the future. Well, at least someone else’s vision of the future. Apparently, it was a vision shared by many. Behold, the twenty-first century and beyond will be filled with flying cars and floating gadgets!

Fast forward to today. We are several months already into the second decade of the millenium and I am thinking back to those very impressionable days. We have come a long way, in some cases. I remember my family purchasing a super-expensive set of encyclopedia books filling up an entire wall of our tiny apartment so my sister and I wouldn’t have to run all the way to the library to finish our homework. Now kids are a keyword or two in a search bar away from the same information. That is progress. In a recent CNN article, Bob Green illustrates three innovations that have permanently changed this country over the past century. It got me thinking that with everything created that was handy and broke new ground there must also be inventions that have gone really nowhere. Because, lets face it – those visions everyone had for twenty-ten are somewhat a bit off. That said, I’d like to cover 3 innovations that pretty much went nowhere. We’ll lovingly call these : the stalled innovations, or just simply “the stalls.”

Stall # 1. The Umbrella.
Can I get a big “COME ON?” Really? Is this the best thing we, as a species, can come up up with to ward off rain? How many effin’ umbrellas do I have to go through in my lifetime before I can officially deem the invention useless? Don’t even get me started on rain coats. In a world where splitting atoms with lasers, cloning live animals and turning Michael Jackson from black to white is reality, you would think that we could come up with something better than a handle/stick with layered nylon triggered by a spring? Way to represent advancement in technology, guys.

Stall # 2. The Steering Wheel.
This is a less obvious invention because we’ve come a long way in automotive technology but we actually still have the trusty ol’ steering wheel? This is something that was created in 1894, and other than look and some additional functionality, hasn’t really advanced past the time when our great-grandparents were children. I understand a serious modification would come with a steep learning curve and judging by the way most folks drive, I figure nobody wants to hedge their bets. But people, this is not the future. Steering wheels in 2010? Yikes.

Stall # 3. Toilets.
Particularly public ones. Holy crap, folks. I’ve seldom walked into any public bathroom where I didn’t feel like I was in a zoo. Way to be primitive, America. Plastic frames and spring hinges are commonplace in this country. We are the floating turd of the civilized world. Recently, I spent a month in Thailand (a country most dub ‘third world’), and almost every modern public toilet facility there at the very least had a little spray attachment to assist in cleanliness. Living in what is supposed to be the capital of the world (NYC) with one of the poorest reputations for cleanliness is straight head-hanging shameful. This invention has taken a back seat to progress and has shown little to no promise.

In 1944 George Orwell wrote a classic dystopian novel with a murkier version of what I was drawn to in Epcot forty years later. I wonder though, what exactly are we promising the kids today? Are we still pushing flying cars? Or are the visions a bit more modest? In Orwell’s novel, and even Bob Green’s essay, emphasis is focused on progressive innovations (be it useful or questionable). That is smart, and I am all for it. But I can speak for myself and many others, that we can go a long way if we just cleaned up a few stalls along the way.

While poking around the new Facebook layout, I notice an apparent backlash from the community regarding recent improvements. The common sentiment is that these improvements are anything but. Why is this? What is troubling is that the same people who are whining now, were pretty much the first to bash the last modification as well. The outcry is reactionary at best, and it clearly fails to exhibit a rational understanding of why Facebook did what it did. One simple truth dawned on me : people aren’t truly ready for change.

You must be thinking, how is Kriheli using Facebook to make such general accusations? Look folks, this is widespread. Yes, America took a step forward by electing Obama last November, but something deep down tells me that the utter failure of the previous administration catapulted this purported “change.” That’s not to say he didn’t deserve it, and rise under his own legs. Hell, I was sold as soon as he took the podium for the keynote at the DNC in ’04 when Kerry was making his lackluster run. But, here we stand – less than three months into the presidency, and people are still uneasy despite this historic, remarkable shift in confidence (or so it seemed).

This shift is an illusion. I wholeheartedly believe that most folks are not set to lead, but rather follow. They are sheep. Baaa. Yea, I’m looking right in your direction, America. You’re the folks that shamelessly beg for change because it’s the catchphrase of our time. Fads aside, I want to see you embrace transformations and refinements, rather than pretend to want it. We are supposedly on the brink of an era that will give way to a metamorphosis of consciousness. Despite this, I have reason to believe that people are ill-prepared to adapt and adjust. Facebook, like most things in your life should, and will evolve. It will synch with rapidly growing technology and align itself with the hard truth that change is not only necessary, but also unavoidable.

That said, I think all the haters need to come up with legitimate, adult arguments and concerns to facilitate critical discussion. This will undoubtedly make things better. Whining, and petitions are for lightweights, and sheep. So stop begging for change if you aren’t willing to make sense out of it, when it comes. Your pockets aren’t that deep.

I’ve got white hairs. Forget gray or silver. Effin’ white! Granted, I’m no spring chicken, but come on!

See, I’ve got this awful and nervous habit of pulling hairs from my beard/goatee while working, reading, watching tv, etc. Last year, in the midst of one of my pluck-athons, I pulled one that quite simply stunned me — stark white. Upon closer inspection via restroom-mirror, the anomaly was confirmed as anything but. White hairs have invaded my turf, err… face. And, it was only the beginning.

When I turned thirty, my knees started getting cranky and my head hair began thinning. I am going to the bathroom more frequently and I can’t leg out an infield single without a hammy pulling up lame. Fast forward four years later, and I am staring at salt and pepper on my face when I wasn’t exactly expecting seasoning.

Aw, who am I kidding? How could I not expect it? My race towards middle-age is blind if I don’t embrace this quick. They say it’s a mark of distinction and character. It makes a man look distinguished. Bah! What if he still wears a Mets jersey, jeans and needs to drop about twenty? I am not exactly Sean Connery here, folks. And I am not about to sport a phony accent and cuff-links either.

I’m also not the type that will be shaving my face entirely or scurrying to Duane Reade for a box of “Just for Men.” Screw that. Twenty-Zero-Nine is here as I prepare for yet another trip around the sun. Everytime I see the sun rise is another day where my body takes a hit. White hairs or not, I am ready for you, middle-age. Ready for you to serve me my proverbial crisis on your plate. Hey, I’ve got the seasoning all set.

Dear MTA,

Yesterday, I was in between tracks on my iPhone when not-so-ironically, my train too, was in between tracks. The announcement that followed instructed that the R-train was going over the V-line because of construction at 59th/Lex. It got me thinking. Let’s see: I’ve lived in New York for over 33 years now and every weekend for as long as I can remember – there has been “construction” announcements and train re-routings. Even during the maddening holiday-shopping weekends!

My question to you is: what exactly are you constructing? Something profound and immense, I hope. I mean, Citi Field and the new Yankee Stadium were built in a little over 2 years. I have seen a complete transformation of Columbus Circle in the blink of an eye as well. I am positive you have something far more grand with all those years logged. A whole new speed-of-sound bullet train system? A massive underground monument to celebrate the return of the Sumerian Gods? What is it? I see all the rats scurrying in an excited frenzy and we are experiencing more and more sick passenger delays. Goodie, goodie.

Humor me and tell me you are not lying to your loyal and overly tolerant city. Yes, I say tolerant. What other word would you use for a city that does not question the “work” that is being done without any demand for a status update. Please don’t tell me that “construction” is just a code word for “we don’t work weekends.” I mean I’ve seen my one-way fare hike up from 75 cents to the two dollar mark it is today. Surely, that should cover paying some extra folks working the weekends (especially since there are plenty of unemployed folks willing to chip in). And gee, the Metrocard afforded you the luxury of cutting the jobs of all the token-booth folks, so salaries shouldn’t be an obstacle, should they?

So . . . when should we expect this “construction” to conclude? Do we have an end-date? Can I get an invite to the press-release or unveiling-party? I am greatly interested, as are my fellow brethren. Show us the greatness that is being laid between the tracks. Unless of course, it is one fat goose egg.

Regards,

Strap-hanger # 10,021,974

Postscript: due to ongoing construction (of this blog), this is the last stop on the K-train. for service to the next post, please get off and take the free shuttle bus uptown.

I vant to suck your… um, soul.

I’d like to formally declare that we can call the classic incarnation of the vampire as dead (for now). The body of the myth is completely flaccid. Rigor Mortis. Finis!

What brought upon this death? Was it an extra order of garlic-knots? A WalMart pistol with a silver bullet? An enormous cross searing into the soul of the legend? No it was not. The proverbial wooden stake through the heart is actually contemporary media and overly sympathetic, romantic artists. There, I said it. You guys killed off the vampire. Give yourselves a hand. (clap clap).

I can see it was a long battle that did not start overnight. It began in the late 70s when Anne Rice decided she wanted to romanticize the lore altogether. Suddenly, the formerly grotesque figure is sporting ruffles and satin shirts. Hollywood didn’t help matters – Frank Langella wasn’t exactly scaring the ladies off – with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise taking the reins shortly after. More recently, the success and hype behind the Angel, Buffy, True Blood and Twilight narratives are responsible for opening the shades and reducing the legend to dust. Stoker would be ashamed (though some would argue – myself included – that he partially contributed to this mess).

I’m disgusted by this loss because for a long time, I was a vampire-junkie. While I wasn’t exactly goth-crazy or anything, I really was fond of the rich history and folklore carried by the legend of vampires. My love of the horror film began with Nosferatu and the subsequent appreciation for old folk tales coming from Eastern Europe. I was a student of the mythos, as I was attempting to write a vampire story way back when, but then Charlie Huston beat me to a similar idea and I made some adjustments and changed gears (props to Mr. Huston, btw). You can say that I feel somewhat invested when I speak about the topic.

So, the bastardization of the bloodsucker is the blood on your hands. I call out to the audiences that give these monstrosities life and urge them to repel it. How much more of this nonsense can you take? You guys have literally sapped the tragedy out of the myth and turned it into 90210. Please stop. If I hear another story about “the most perfect man…” and he sports fangs, I will vomit.

But I digress. Instead of reading my eulogy, I want to offer this: I know folklore prevents the vampire from truly being destroyed. So it is my wish that contemporary writers do their homework and give me something fresh, new and … gruesome, for a change. And please, don’t suck (har har).

It never ceases to amaze me that private universities in this country have the balls to ask for contributions on top of their already abhorrent, inflated tuition costs. Specifically targeting people who took loans out to eek out their educations – well, that’s just filthy. I understand that alumni contributions shape the future of some schools, but please call those jerks whose tuitions were paid-in-full by their parents while they pissed away their future doing keg stands. Don’t call me. Here is a delightful exchange I had yesterday with my Alma Mater’s semi-annual attempt to pull some more green from yours truly:

Cuse Student: We have all these exciting new developments at Syracuse University. (Student launches into speech about new facilities/buildings and organizations on campus).

Rich: Thats so cool, I have had some exciting new developments too! I am halfway done on my mortgage payments! 15 years to go. Go me!

Cuse Student: Anyway, Mr. Kriheli, would you like to donate some money to (incoherent babble about some new development)?

Rich: Donations are a fantastic idea.

Cuse Student: That sounds great.

Rich: Actually, I was wondering if you guys would like to donate some money to me. I have a ton of upcoming expenses, and I have been eyeing a sweet new receiver for my home theater system that is close to a decade old now. Your contribution would be greatly appreciated. Despite your university almost driving me and my family to financial ruin, I still wear my “real men wear orange” tee shirt proudly. Go Orange!

Cuse Student: (nervous) A-actually, Mr. Kriheli. We were asking you for a donation. A minimal donation is also great.

Rich: I agree, I will take what I can get. Should I send you my paypal address? I can’t wait to watch “The Express” in hi-def glory!

Cuse Student: Um, Mr. Kriheli, we need your donation. We don’t give donations.

Rich: You need me? That’s laughable. Let me ask you a question.

Cuse Student: Yes?

Rich: Are you at your part-time job right now on campus?

Cuse Student: Yes I am.

Rich: Can you give me your information, name, phone, email? I’d like to look you up 10-15 years from now and ask you for some spare loot. I’m sure you’d relate.

Cuse Student: (after a pause) Sorry for taking your time, Mr. Kriheli. (hangs up)

No shame. Yeah, I felt bad for the kid because he, too, will see my point of view in his future. Academia in this country is flawed. All dollars, no sense.