Burnettiquette

Confucius was an inventor of confusion? I'm confused.

Watch Miss Panama contestant Giosue Cozzarelli in the video below for reason 726 on the list of 1,000 reasons why beauty pageant contestants should not be allowed to eat fresh food or look both ways before they cross the street.

Do something nice for a teacher

One of those weeks. Been swamped, folks. But if you have time, adopt a classroom.

AIG Cheering Section

You can't make this stuff up: A fourth-grade teacher in Houston, who gives her students a daily economics lesson by letting them operate mock businesses and earn fake money and taxing them appropriately, recently made the daily lesson about AIG.

First she tore into AIG to make a point to the students. Their reaction, apparently, was predictable: They fumed at what they believed AIG execs had gotten away with.

But then the teacher, Rebecca Chapman, changed directions and asked her students to think about how they'd feel if they were AIG employees who didn't make the bad decisions but remained at the company to fix those decisions. She even asked them to think about how bad they'd feel if they were asked to give back millions in bonus money they felt they'd earned, and if their families had received death threats.

So the students, not yet being jaded about life, proposed that they write and send letters of support to AIG employees.

The current head of AIG's financial products unit - the unit blamed for much of the company's alleged shady dealings - said the cards and letters are hanging up on bulletin boards at the company and that they've made the AIG folk weepy and sentimental and what not.

Not sure what I think of this. The smartass in me wants to say something like "When I have kids one day, this is why they're attending private school!"

But that's too easy. Besides, when I have kids and they're old enough to attend school I probably won't be able to afford a private education 'cause it'll probably cost as much as college.

I commend the teacher for her daily economics lessons. That's awesome. And if just a few of her students remember those lessons, maybe they'll know how to balance books and prioritize spending and saving before they even graduate high school.

Maybe I'm crazy though, but for a hot-button issue like AIG's bonuses, I almost feel like academic opinion on that should be left to these kids' parents/legal guardians.

I'm not saying Wall Street bonus "education" is equivalent to parents debating over whether they or the schools should teach sex ed. But do you get the "sensitive" subject issue?

Think about it. Maybe I'm the parent of one of those kids. Maybe I'm pretty well versed in economic issues. Maybe it's my opinion that all the AIG bonus recipients - whether they were top decision makers or not - are the recipients of ill-gotten gains. Maybe that's the opinion I'm preaching to my family. So maybe I don't want my kid being groomed to be sympathetic to Wall Street bonus-getters at failed companies that are only surviving on tax dollars.

Maybe you think that sort of speculation is goofy. Maybe. But I'm the Devil's advocate here. And I'll put money on it: as this story plays out that teacher, for all her good intentions, is going to run into a few disgruntled parents.

Cosby Show turns 25....soon

Happy Saturday, friends and frienemies.

I just wrapped up a pleasant afternoon of recording radio interviews and ambient sound for a story I'm working on about something I'll call "pubic relations" for now. I'll become less vague as the project moves forward.

In the mean time, even though its actual "birthday" isn't until September, when mine happens to be, I thought I'd take a moment and pay tribute to "The Cosby Show" for what it has contributed to life and perceptions in the United States.

Yeah, I know it's just a TV show, and I've never been much of a fan of Jello Pudding Pops or Coogi Sweaters. But "The Cosby Show" helped me in a tremendous way by breaking and defying common, if silly, stereotypes about black folks.

I had a great example in my parents and how they operated our household. Unlike the Huxtable parents, neither of my folks was or is a doctor or a lawyer. They're accomplished. But they are and were normal, and honest, and proudly simple.

They didn't feel the need to impress anyone. They didn't show off, though they could have. My mom has been recognized widely for her community service. My dad would be aw shucks about it, but he's a widely sought after speaker in some pretty big religious circles. And during his military career my dad was a U.S. Navy Sailor of the Year.

Most importantly, my folks marched to their own beat when I was a kid. Sometimes that beat had them in line with the rest of our community. Sometimes not.

To an adult, the stuff I just listed about my folks and family is "neat!" To a kid? It's little more than additional reasons to get picked on by the cool kids and called a nerd...or, in my case, when I was younger, occasionally being called "not black enough." My point is, like a typical tunnel-visioned kid, I didn't appreciate the lifestyle my folks had set for my sister and I until after I saw that it was popular outside our little home.

So when "The Cosby Show" debuted in the fall of 1984, even as a young boy I can remember thinking how cool it was that this regular black family was causing such a stir, breaking stereotypes and defying common but silly assumptions. Even though it was just a bunch of actors, I can remember swelling with pride and thinking "We're sort of like them. And if they're cool for dressing sharply, speaking well, and trying to get good grades, and working hard, then so are we!"

I used to cringe when some fathead in school teased me and called me some form of "Cosby," 'cause it was the pop culture equivalent to teasing the smark kid for scoring well on a test.

In retrospect I should have thanked the fatheads for comparing me to a Cosby. It was a pretty damned high complement.

I have friends who've complained for years that "The Cosby Show" wasn't realistic. But by who's standard? Your realism is about how you live. The Huxtables represented a lot of black families who never made headlines because they hadn't done anything wrong.

PS. Don't forget to follow me at http://twitter.com/jamesburnett.

New Year's Resolutions On Track

Happy New Year...four days late!

We are off to a good start friends of Burnettiquette.

So far I have abided by my resolutions, which I selected this year based on things I'd like to do, not just things I think I can accomplish. Probably should've been using that standard in past years. After all, it's about the effort, right? So as part of my resolution revolution I've compiled a list of 20 mostly simple goals. I'm tired of plotting to be president, win the Mr. Olympia contest, split the atom, and become underwear model. For whatever strange reason, none of those things has happened for me yet.

But already this year, I have:

1. managed to go shopping with Mrs. B two days in a row and not get demonstrably annoyed over her style of shopping (browse, browse, browse, consider buying, browse, browse, browse, think about it some more, browse, browse, browse, sleep on it and come back tomorrow to browse, browse, browse, then finally buy);
2. lightened my humidor of only one cigar;
3. run a short sprint in an end zone at Dolphins Stadium;
4. stood up to a bully whose "power" source was nothing more than unearned wealth;
5. scored a quality pair of jeans for the first time ever that were 100% comfortable from day one without me having to rough 'em up or wash 'em to soften 'em (I'm no label whore, but bravo Paper Denim & Cloth!);
6. and made it to church on time without having to slink sheepishly past the disapproving ushers.

Still to come in 2009, I aim to:

1. eliminate Dollar Weed from my lawn;
2. begin a grassroots campaign to prove that it's much easier for different types of people to get along with one another when they're simply educated about differences, rather than forced in the name of political correctness to approve of every difference;
3. figure out why the bamboo I'm trying to grow in the back yard isn't thriving;
4. try a Yoga class;
5. resume my Shotokan training with an eye toward reclaiming my black belt and adding a stripe to it;
6. hold my first art gallery show for my painting;
7. land a seven figure consulting gig, jointly paid by the Republican and Democratic national committees, so I can explain to the former why it can no longer blow off some ethnic minorities and remain viable, and explain to the latter why it can't take for granted that youth voters will stay with the Democratic Party just because they support the President-elect;
8. launch five Web sites that I've been laboring over for a long time;
9. hold a mini-promo tour for my first book (more on this later ;-)
10. get my weight to 200 pounds even (I'm not fat! I'm 6-foot-3 and big boned!)
11. wear a bow tie in public at least once a month;
12. gently but firmly educate those friends and acquaintances who incorrectly think that depth of faith is best measured by religious denomination and that liberalism and conservatism can't exist outside the context of political parties;
13. be even prettier than I was in '08;
14. and become a certified, in demand Magic Negro.

Bonus resolutions:

1. Pay my debts - all of 'em;
2. Renew a couple of old friendships.

Adolf Hitler denied birthday cake

See, this is what I meant several posts ago when I said giving your child a goofy name is tantamount to child abuse.

A New Jersey man and his wife are angry that their 3-year-old son, Adolf Hitler, was denied a birthday cake by their local ShopRite grocery store.

Heath and Deborah Campbell wanted a custom cake for Hitler's 3rd birthday party. But ShopRite thought it would be distasteful to inscribe a cake with happy birthday wishes to Hitler. The Campbells believe it was cruel to the child, who doesn't know history and just wanted a birthday cake. Eventually Wal-Mart agreed to make the cake, as they had for the birthday of one of the Campbell's daughters, JoyceLynn Aryan Nation Campbell.

Another daughter is named Honszlynn Hinler Jeannie Campbell, the latter being an homage to Heinrich Himmler.

The Campbells, who reportedly are Holocaust deniers and whose house is decorated with Swastikas, insist Adolf Hitler is just a unique name that they chose 'cause they believed no other child would have it. They argue, that in spite of their feelings about racial separation...but not superiority, the old Hitler and the ideas he represented are dead, and that the new Hitler, their Hitler will be raised in a normal way that allows him to choose when he's older what types of people he'll associate with.

Hmmm. I don't even have any jokes about this one. Whatever the Campbell's motives were I call this child abuse. Even if the Campbells are right in their theory that young Hitler won't be teased and tortured by other school children some day, what's it gonna do to his psyche when in 8th-grade World History class he hears about the things his namesake did?

Of course, the question could be moot. There's a good chance young Hitler will learn about those things at home.