Steve Kass

In the wake of today’s incident in Times Square, the second in barely as many days, Joe Lieberman, the Idiot from Connecticut, is expected to introduce idiotic revisions to the Enemy Belligerent, Interrogation, Detention, and Prosecution Act of 2010 (EBIDPA). The revised legislation will define water bottles, books, and several other items as “suspicious” and impose severe penalties on persons leaving them unattended in public places. The Department of Homeland Security will be charged with maintaining the secrecy of the list of suspicious items, revising it as needed. In an attempt to prevent EBIDPA from becoming politicized, Lieberman is adding language to restrict what information can be provided about the Act and its enforcement to Democratic and Republican members of Congress.

Anyone suspected of violating the new provisions would be classified as an enemy belligerent and immediately lose his or her U.S. citizenship. In addition, arresting officers would be prohibited from mirandizing suspected violators. Local and state governments will have until June 1, 2010 to enter fingerprints, iris scans, and DNA samples from all U.S. residents into a national database.

Rudolph Giuliani, former mayor of New York, and several world leaders, including Kim Jong-Il and Robert Mugabe, praised Lieberman for his patriotism.

Idiot with bottled water (2006 photo).

In a few hours, and despite the free dinner, I won’t be attending “Is a Roth Right for You?”

On account of my zip code, probably, Morgan Stanley Smith Barney invited me to call or email Jacqui to reserve my place at the free event with limited seating, which I didn’t. In addition to dinner, I’ll be missing the guest speaker, who as far as I can tell is the world’s sole “Vice President of Value Add and Retirement Marketing.”

“Value Add,” you ask? So did I, and I looked it up.

According to Steve Bloemer, value add is “your company’s unique blend of products and services, and how those are perceived by your prospects and clients.” He adds that “Among the value adds I envision as important for a web hosting provider, infrastructure, 24×7 support and hands-on expertise rank high.” Steve, an “Inside Sales Manager” at Hostirian elaborates. “Would two 20AMP circuits per rack be a value add, or simply norm? If you offer business class shared web hosting plans, would that be a value add? Certainly, value adds are competition driven.”

Steve Bosserman (no relation) hyphenates it and explains, “Value-add dominates our economic scorecard,” and “The concept of value-add also plays a role in information technology and data services.” He refreshingly admits that “Here, though, the meaning is vague.”

Susan M. Heathfield penned a short article on About.com, writing that “your value add moves beyond activities or actions performed and illuminates, instead, the actual contributions you made to your organization’s success.”

The Urban Dictionary is more straightforward. Its #1 definition is “A business euphemism for “the reason I’d like you to think I’m useful.””

Unfortunately, or not, I can only coin, not uncoin.

HTH,

Steve

For the record, I’m not particularly fond of small parties, either.

“That was our playhouse – that was its name,” Gerry said, as if there could be any other reason for the RUTGER above the door. I never asked why it was named Rutger, or if I did, she never told me, or I forgot.

The carpenters at the San built Rutger. The carpenters built a lot of things for Mom and Gerry: Rutger, the seesaw, the elephant table, a bookcase. Probably more, though nothing else was passed down or photographed. The carpenters were fond of Mom and Gerry.

Four hundred or so people lived at the San in the early 1930s. Almost half lived in dormitories and worked there – carpenters, bakers, nurses, engineers, attendants, waiters, horse keepers, farmers, chauffeurs, teachers, butchers, clerks, pharmacists, physicians, and a dentist. One of the chauffeurs drove Mom to school in Middleborough. My grandfather Manny was the dentist. Manny, Nana, Mom, and Gerry were one of only a few families at the San, and they lived in one of the few houses on the grounds.

Mom said she and Gerry could see the morgue from their bedroom window. Gerry said they couldn’t. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, the morgue was near the house, and no one shooed the girls out when they wandered in. Not there or anywhere else – the operating theater, the lab, the barn.

They might have been shooed off the playground if they’d tried to play on the swings when other kids wanted to, but Mom and Gerry knew the rules, and they always had Rutger and the seesaw. The playground was for the inmates.