Resisting the call to join the Rude Culture

No, @#$% you, buddy! And get out of my way!

I am on the verge of speaking like this all the time (and using the real F-word, not symbols). I am on the verge of being sucked into what I consider the New Jersey Rude Culture. I am trying to resist the Culture the way a good Jedi fights the pull of the Dark Side of the Force.

Rudeness plagues the nation. Just watch the news and what passes for health care reform debate. Nearly 70 percent of people questioned in a 2005 Associated Press-Ipsos poll said people are ruder than they were 20 or 30 years ago. The poll was referenced in a recent Chicago Tribune article about rude behavior in college classrooms and beyond.

I've been back in New Jersey, the place of my birth, for about six weeks. Here, rude has been elevated to an art form. The mix of foul language, hand gestures and obliviousness of fellow human beings - often fueled by hyper-caffinated drinks - is much more intense here. People who experience it for the first time are often left speechless.

I am experiencing 'Jersey rudeness for the first time in three years. I am often left speechless.

People here shout words that mean nothing into their cellphones, shattering the peace of all around them. Parkway motorists drive their cars up the ass of yours because you are driving 75-80 miles per hour in the slow lane...In the slow lane. People shout you down during conversations to make their point. Loudest and most obnixious wins. They are pains in the butt.

And, I admit with sadness, I can go there. I can definitely act like an asshole, but I try not to. Part of it has to do with getting control of my heart and lung sarcoidosis. I need to cool out and be chill. A calm, relaxed mind is essential to helping the body heal. there is no way around it.

I also think being decent, and respectful is the right thing to do. I see myself as a gentle giant because of nature and nurture. My mom and grandmom taught me to live by the Golden rule. I am a man who tends to keep to himself, minds his manners, keeps the peace and only lifts his hand in defense of the weak. The gentleness thrived to a degree in Greater Lansing, Michigan and Chicago.


I have no illusions about either place. The Midwest has its share of nuts, bullies, bigots, misogynists, all the people we should despise. But Midwesterners are quite polite. They say 'thank you' and 'please' and allow people the right of way. They hold doors for each other, offer to carry this or reach for that. They are respectful of personal space. The smaller the town, the politer they are. In Chicago, I managed a group of reporters who exhibited Type A personality traits. Those reporters could dig for stories and were as relentless as any reporters I've ever worked with, but they were also nice, decent people. They would bare teeth and unsheath talons, but knew how to put them away after hours.

These days, here in New Jersey, the teeth and talons are bared and unsheathed 24-7. (The customer service at Barnes & Noble in Howell, N.J., is a refreshing respite. I give this store props because it is a cool place to write. I love the vibe. Folks there are pretty polite, especially the baristas). And I am assuming that New York and Connecticut are as rude as ever, too. Curiously, you can still find polite people in Manhattan – so many people living there are NOT from there, you know?

I am trying to maintain my public politeness, but the Rude Culture might be winning. Every time I try to get out, it pulls me back in. Warning: I can be a real asshole. My cousin Dwayne likes to say that some folks are not assholes. They are the cheeks, the pimples on the ass, the crack…The entire ass. Yeah, I can be that, I fear.

I just want to be a good guy. I really do. New Jersey, you could really help, you know? Be decent, for crying out loud.

I'll try harder, too.

Prednsione rewards and rage

(Because of prednisone, I often feel how this guy looks)

A meal of Taylor Ham, bacon, Brown Sugar-Cinnamon Pop-Tarts and Gatorade has all the vitamins and minerals a growing boy needs.

The man whose shopping cart accidentally slams into another person’s cart at the super market deserves a bloody-pulp beat down!

If a tractor-trailer driver cuts you off on the thruway, leap from your car onto the truck’s hood, punch through the windshield, and grab the driver and POUND, POUND, POUND!

Welcome to my prednisone world. All apologizes to whomever I offended. Or offend from this moment forth.

The preceding thoughts are steroid-fueled representations of rage and/or despair. The feelings are partners in a twisted tango going on in my head. I fight to keep them there, but sometimes they get out.

Weeks ago, I wrote about art-rocker Kim Deal who in a recent interview essentially said she dug prednisone's side effects. I wrote that I did not. There was nothing to like.

However, I am embarking on one of the most creative spurts I have ever had and am on the verge of finishing my first novel and well into my second. I have shared my work with friends with divergent backgrounds and interests - 35-year-old Asian-American business woman with Alabama roots and conservative leanings, 26-year-old moderate white male from Dallas, 26, year-old white liberal-minded female from Michigan, 40-year-old black female apolitical health care industry expert from Chicago - all have read it and want more.

That bodes well for the future success of my projects, I reckon. We'll see. The ideas are mine, but where is the focus and energy coming from? Prednisone-induced mania, I suspect. So that is good.

The other side though is despair. There was a time early in my fight against lung and heart sarcoidosis when I would not get out of bed for days except to go to the bathroom. I would cry at the end of a movie or TV show no matter how hokey.

And then there was/is rage. The news, small talk, cartoons; they can all make me very, very angry….Not good.

Prednisone’s side effects are legendary. I started on 60 mg daily and am down to 40 mg. I am hoping we can cut it to 20 mg soon and then get to the magic number of between 5 to 10 mg because side effects are minimal at that dosage. Go here for a full list of side effects, the ones that give me the most trouble are:

- Insomnia, euphoria and, in some cases, even mania. My music collection and the way my VW GTI handles an open stretch of high way is way too exhilarating right now. The high...I never want it to end.
- Weight gain
- Abdominal pain, blurring of vision
- Pain in the hips or shoulders
- Acne
- Sleeplessness
- Stretch marks on the skin
- Swelling in the face (@#$%ing Moon face!)
- nervousness
- increase in appetite
- hyperactivity

So why the heck would a doctor administer a drug with so many side effects? Because it is a life-saving drug that works so well that physicians argue the advantages outweigh the disadvantages. They prescribe prednisone and other drugs to counteract prednisone side effects. Doctors treat these side effects of prednisone symptomatically, since it is not always feasible to stop prednisone administration even when severe side effects occur.

Prednisone comes with a warning urging the taker to tell family, friends and coworkers that they are on the drug. That is how volatile the drug makes some people. I warned people and also stay alert to squash my outbursts. But sometimes the words just fly out my mouth. Examples:

- I called a man an 'über-tard' and practically challenged him to a fistfight for stepping in front of me in line at a Wa-Wa.
- I yelled at a city Hall greeter chomping on a mouthful of sandwich while giving directions the bathroom. “Take a lunch and eat! Don’t spit mustard on people asking for directions. That’s not what we pay you for!”
- I screamed at a nurse at Northwestern for screwing up one of my prescriptions. Something got lost in translation between Chicago and Howell, N.J., and the delay left me seething, wanting to topple display cases and turn over cars. Aaaargh!

And, I have thought about covering my parents’ house in chocolate and trying to eat it. Just cuz! I am ravenous. All the time.

Whew….prednisone sucks. For the most part, I am able to control outbursts because I am aware that I am under the influence of a powerful drug. There are millions of folks out there on prednisone for variety of reasons. They keep themselves under wraps and so can I.

But sometimes the insults rip. So, in advance, I apologize.