Mission Impossible?

Dear Tom Cruise-

You seem pretty crazy, but you’re the only person I can think of that might be able to provide some insight right now.   It all goes back to that jumping-on-the-couch incident.  I'm not sure you ever got over it.  I know I haven't--it still creeps me out.  Not to be rude, but it looks like you scared Oprah too . . . and she's seen just about everything.

Anyway, the point is that while you were couch-jumping, we were all rolling our eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  And it did drop.  It took a little less than six years, but your marriage failed.  As it turns out, couch jumping antics don't prove true or everlasting love . . . I can't say that I'm shocked.  It was painfully obvious that you were insanely driven to feel in love, which is not the same thing as actually being in a successful, meaningful relationship.  I'm guessing you were probably motivated by your own feelings of loneliness and insecurity.  Those are powerful feelings, but they are also temporary.  It’s too bad you didn't have the self-awareness to see that.  You jumped off Oprah's couch and headed straight into the deep end of your third failed marriage.

I'm writing you today because my mom is presently engaged in the same kind of I-think-I’m-in-love ridiculousness and I don’t know how to help her stop.   Last week I learned that Mom is planning on marrying Lieutenant Tan in Las Vegas.  I’m not invited.  It is apparently of no concern that Mom has only known Lieutenant Tan since June.  Mom also isn’t bothered by the fact that Lieutenant Tan hasn’t met her children. According to Mom, you can know everything you need to know about a potential spouse after 2 hours on a plane, 200 hours on the phone and 400 emails.  (Presumably, these e-mails include the pictures mom has wallpapered everywhere featuring Lieutenant Tan holding various military-grade assault rifles.)  

Mom tells me that Lieutenant Tan will take care of her and she feels safe with him.  (How anybody could feel safe with all those assault rifles sitting around is beyond me.)  Mom assures me I would love Lieutenant Tan because he’s like a big golden lab. “He smiles and wags his tail and will curl up at your feet.”  (Do Labs where camo and carry grenades and Facebook fan Bill O’Riley?  I think not.)   But here’s the real kicker:  My mom wrote me an e-mail and told me that “in fact,” Mom’s deceased mother and Lieutenant Tan’s deceased mother are sitting up in heaven orchestrating this match.  That’s right.  Mom’s new relationship is sanctioned and approved by the dead. 

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that.  Mom seems determined to make a fool of herself just like you did jumping up and down on a sofa. So I’m just wondering if there was anything anybody could have said that would have made you stop and reconsider?  Would it have made a difference if one of your kids had put their arm around you and said, “Dad, I think you need to slow this train (wreck) down?”  Would you have listened?  Could anyone have convinced you that going off the deep end always results in failed relationships?  I’m guessing not.  But since you’re Tom Cruise and you're crazy and you specialize in impossible missions, I thought I should at least ask.

Sincerely,

SEE 

Lawyers for Better Lawyer Movies

Dear Hollywood-

I saw the movie Arbitrage last weekend.  It's an interesting enough premise.  I'm no movie critic, but here's a summary to refresh your memory:

Robert Miller is a guy who's juggling too many balls at once.  While he appears the portrait of success in business and family, he's really  in over his head.  Robert Miller is desperately trying to complete the sale of his hedge fund empire to a major bank before his fraud is revealed. Oh yeah, and he's also trying to keep his affair with a French art dealer on the down low.  Under immense stress to complete the sale, Robert Miller convices the French art dealer that they should take a roadtrip getaway.  You know where this is going.  Robert Miller gets in an accident that kills the French art-dealer.  Unwilling to call police and compromise his reputation (and therefore, the sale), Robert Miller places a call to family friend Jimmy Grant. The phone call raises suspicions at NYPD, where detectives there are as corrupt as . . .  well . . . their New Orleans Police Department counterparts.  

I remember thinking that the first half of the movie was well-cast and well-acted.  Presumably, the second half of the movie was too, but I was so distracted by the glaring errors in criminal procedure that I failed to notice much else.  I know you aren't a lawyer, so I'll make this brief.

The Constitution of the United States of America has a Fifth Amendment.  You should probably read it sometime.  It says that no person can be compelled to be a witness against himself.  That means the unfortunate Jimmy Grant wouldn't have been be in a grand jury room testifying against himself. He would have "plead the Fifth," which means that he would have exercised his right not to testify against himself.

There are other legal problems too:

• If Jimmy Grant had testified before a Grand Jury, his attorney wouldn't have been present.
• If Jimmy Grant's attorney neglected to tell him that he had a right not to testify against himself, Jimmy Grant's attorney would have been committing professional malpractice.
• Robert Miller wasn't apprehended at the scene of the accident so there is no proof that he was intoxicated.  That makes it virtually impossible that he would be charged with involuntary manslaughter because no one could have proven that he was acting recklessly at the time of the French art dealer's death.  Car accidents happen all the time.  People die all the time.  The people who caused the accidents aren't criminally liable unless it can be proven they were under the influence at the time of the accident.
• The New York Penal Code imposes a sentence of 3 to 15 years for involuntary manslaughter.  Robert Miller's attorney told him he was facing 10 years.  Lying to your client because you're too lazy to look in the Penal Code also qualifies as malpractice.
• The evidence concocted by the NYPD still only proves that Robert Miller left the scene of an accident without notifying police.  That is a crime, but it's a pretty minor traffic offense.  In New York, leaving the scene of an accident carries a fine of $250 and a maximum sentence of 15 days.   

I know, I know.  It can be confusing for Hollywood directors, even the ones who aren't sitting around snorting substances and seducing women.  But you're in luck.  Young lawyers are starving right now.  The market is saturated as older attorneys postpone retirement and law schools are increasing enrollment to boost their bottom line.  Look it up online, just search “Is Law School a Scam” and you’ll see that new lawyers are willing to work as administrative assistants, barristas and house cleaners.  You could hire one of those young lawyers for $20 an hour . . . and after a $60 or $80 investment, you could make a movie without so many distracting errors. 

In other words, you could make a movie even a lawyer would enjoy.

Sincerely,

SEE

Campaign Assistance

Dear Mitt Romney-

I'm heard that the first eight months of 2012 were the hottest ever recorded in the continental United States and the summer period of June, July and August was the third hottest ever.  I know you're trying to run a campaign here, so I just wanted to give you the head's up. 

When it's hotter than hot outside, smart people don't wear dumb underwear.

Sincerely,
SEE

LUV Lost

Dear Southwest Airlines-

The gig's up.  Please stop sending me free drink coupons.  I appreciate the gesture, but no amount of alcohol could help me forget last week.  Waking up at 6:30 am to your text message from that said "SWA Flight 11 at  9:30 am is cancelled" is just . . . well . . . its no way for a girl to wake up.  You didn't even say "Good Morning."  Or "I'm sorry."  You should know that breaking plans by text message is not acceptable.

I'm embarrassed to admit it now, but my first response (after stumbling out of bed) was to check online to see when you would be available to take me out again. You weren't available until 11. That's wasn't any good since I had to make an appearance in court at 1. For my job. So, I called you and plead my case.  I explained that I HAD to get on an earlier flight. For my job.  You told me that the earlier flights were booked and that my aircraft required routine maintenance. That's right, after making plans with me, you broke them so you could perform routine maintenance.  That's like cancelling a date so you wash your hair. 

The soonest you could get on a flight to Houston was at 11.  In a sugary-sweet, patronizing voice, you asked me, "Will this be okay?"

No, this is NOT okay. 

You promised to give me a ride at 9:30 in the morning.  You knew it was important for me to get to Houston.  I paid you an agreed fare and you promised you would be there for me at the agreed time.  Then you cancelled our plans by text. 

I know what it's like to have routine maintenance.  Sometimes my eyebrows need plucking.  Sometimes my hair needs a trim.  Other times my fingernails need filing. My makeup always needs refreshing.  But I manage to make it to appointments--personal and professional-- on time.  Texting my boss and to let her know that I will be three hours late for "routine maintenance" isn't really an option-- I would be fired on the spot.  

But that is exactly what you told me last week.  And somehow, you think you can get away with that.  You can't.  I'm disappointed in you Southwest.  We've gone a great many places together, but I can't rely on you to get me where I need to be for work.  That's really too bad for you because I fly for work at least once a week.  I'll still use you when I don't have anywhere I have to be . . . but as for business travel, you're fired.

Of course, I don't think you'll miss me much--I've read that book called "He's Just Not That In to You."  You should read it too, because canceling a date is the most effective way of communicating "I'm just not that in to you."  I'm off to find an airline who is in to me.  Or at least one that compensates my time lost with frequent flier miles.  I'm just too old for airlines (or men) who have to liquor me up to maintain a relationship.  Keep your coupons--I deserve better.

Sincerely,

SEE

My First Threesome

Dear Match.com-

I have mixed feelings about online dating in general, but I'm trying to be a good sport.  I bought a three-month membership and answer e-mails in a timely fashion and I rate my daily matches . . . well . . . daily.  I'm a good match.com citizen.  But there's a glaring omission in your profile questionnaire and I think it would be helpful if you added it in the "About Him."

This all came about during my first sleepover with James*. To give you some background, James is educated, intelligent, wants kids, doesn't smoke, works out regularly, pays for all our dates and is genuinely a decent human being.  Friends asked me what was wrong with him, and I really didn't have anything to say.  (Just so you know, that's rare for me--I always have lots of things to say.)  So, last weekend I agree to go back to his house after a fun night out.  James and I head upstairs, and before we even pull the comforter back, he is hunting for the remote control.  I change and brush my teeth and touch up my make-up (which is the opposite of removing my make-up) and climb into bed with James.  And Rachel Maddow.

There's nothing that screams “Welcome to the 21^st Century!” quite like crawling into bed with a guy from the internet and a TV personality.  Granted, Rachel wasn't actually in the bed.  No, she was fussing about life on a 60 inch high-def television only two feet from the end of the bed.  I’m pretty sure her head was bigger on that screen than it would have been in real life.  (At least, I hope her head isn’t that big in real life . . .) 

Don’t get me wrong, I like Rachel Maddow, and I've no doubt she's one of the more intelligent people on TV.  But I don't want to go to bed with her.  Or Bill Maher.  Or any of the dirty, hairy men featured on Game of Thrones. I’m trying to be okay sharing my bed with one other person, but am I really expected to share the bedroom with one person and all of cable network's talking heads?  I hope not.

So, my complaint is that you neglected to include sleeping rituals in your profile questionnaire.  Since people spend one-third of their lives sleeping (or trying to sleep,) I think sleeping habits are really important in determining compatibility. I'm sure you're overworked and underpaid--who isn't?--so I've done the work for you.  Here is the question you should be asking, along with the most common answers:

     How do you fall asleep at night?  (Select all that apply.)

1.  I have no idea.  I take Ambien every night and I can't remember what happens after 9pm.

2.  I read a book or magazine.

3.  I watch Netflix on my iPad so as not to disturb my roommates and/or cat.

4.  I watch TV for at least an hour.  If you try and turn it off, I wake up and rewind the programming, subjecting you to the same half hour of television you already saw while waiting for me to fall asleep so you could turn off the TV. 

5.  I drink until I pass out on the couch/barstool/floor.

If you had asked this question (and James had answered honestly), he would have told you he requires TV to fall asleep.  I might not have gone out with James at all.  And if I had gone out with James, I would have been better prepared for my first threesome.  Instead, I spent my first night with James and Rachel Maddow.  And that’s just not cool.

Now I've got to have a conversation with James to see if there's some room for negotiation.  I have my doubts.  James was pretty emphatic that he could not fall asleep without the TV, and he didn't seem too eager to try.  In the future, you should send him some matches with similar sleeping habits.  As for me, it looks like I'll be needing a new match too.  Or a prescription for Ambien.  Or maybe both.

Sincerely,

SEE

*Named changed to protect the identity of the man who not-so-jokingly refers to the remote control as his pacifier.

College Advice

Dear Baby Brother-

Going out-of-state for college is a genius move and I’m excited for you.  Being so far away from home will be terrifying and thrilling.  You will encounter new ideas and different kinds of people and your brain will grow and learn and develop more in the next four years than it did in the past eighteen years.  I know you'll do fine, but since I'm the oldest (and the bossiest), I couldn't let you leave without giving you one last list of instructions:

1.              Stay in touch with your big sister.  She loves you and thinks the world of you.

2.              Don't pick your best friends or your girlfriend or your study buddies the first week of school.  It's mind-boggling, but the prettiest, most talented girls who starred in all the high school musicals won't be very popular in college.  (In fact, they'll probably drop out and become property managers or hairdressers.)  High school jocks don't do very well either.  Because its all so topsy-turvey in the beginning, just sit back and watch.  Give it a couple weeks before you become enmeshed with any one person or group. 

3.              Don't do anything irrevocable in your early twenties.  Hands down, this was the best advice anyone ever gave me, and I'm passing it on to you.  No tattoos, no weddings, absolutely no getting anybody pregnant.  Don't join a church or quit a church.  Don't accumulate credit card debt.  Don't write anybody off.  Don't put naked pics of yourself (or anybody else) on the internet.  You're changing a lot right now and you'll stunt your growth if you lock yourself into anything irrevocable before your 25th birthday. 

4.              Call Mom every Sunday.  She's paying the bills and she deserves it.

5.              Go to classes.   Even if your professor doesn't speak understandable English--and many of them won't--it gets you in the habit of showing up.  It will seem like a waste of time, but go anyway.  One day you'll have a job and you'll be glad you've already mastered the skill of showing up for meetings that seem like a waste of your time. 

 

6.              Always wash your whites first.  That way, if a roommate used bleach in the load before yours, it won’t ruin your other clothes. 

7.              Don't fall in love with the first girl (or boy) you meet.  You are an amazing guy and there will be many more down the road.

8.              Don't marry the first person you have (safe) sex with. (Safe) sex is new and fun.  But (safe) sex isn't the same as love.  And a happy (safe) sex life won't necessarily make for a happy marriage or civil union. 

9.              Safe sex is the only way to go.  Don’t rely on a girl (or a boy) to make it safe.  Girls (and boys) are people, and sometimes, people lie. Whatever you choose to do in your free time, make sure you are responsible for keeping it safe.

10.          Remember that your job is to study.  You aren’t working full-time; you’re going to college.  You should be spending at least 40 hours a week in class, preparing for class and studying for exams.  Study hard and do great things!

In the end, you may never use the information you learn in college--lots of people don’t--but you will be able to rely on each of the tools you'll develop there.  So, take advantage of this time and cultivate useful skills and healthful habits.  And stay in touch with your sister.

Sincerely,

SEE