James Collier

[This is a public response to Jim Franklin’s public comments on the recent overturning of Prop 8. It was sent to him on Friday, August 13, 2010.]

Dear Jim,

(I hope you don’t mind me calling you Jim.)

As a local champion for Prop 8, I can only imagine how frustrating it must be to have your voice—and the voice of the people—completely ignored by a judge that thinks equality is above the subjective beliefs of a segment of voters.

As empathetic as I am to your cause, though, I’m a bit baffled by your latest argument. Here’s what I gleaned from your interview with ABC 30:

“If two guys can get married—if two women can get married based on their sexual preference—if I were to say ‘I’m bisexual,’ why can I not marry a man and a woman based on the same argument?”

Good question. It gets me thinking, so let’s flesh out (semi-pun intended) this “slippery slope” theory:

If a man can marry a woman, then divorce her and marry another woman, why can he not marry two women, based on the same argument?

Don’t answer that, it’s hypothetical, and the answer doesn’t matter. You know what also doesn’t matter? The state’s definition of marriage. It’s true—God doesn’t care about the paperwork and legalization. He/She (ha ha - get it?) cares about the integrity of relationships, and the accountability found in a faith community. Or something along those lines.

Look, I get it: the slippery slope is scary. But fear of what “could come” as a result of the current ruling is not a valid reason to deny people happiness, or resources and benefits that affect livelihood; in fact, fear is rarely a valid justification for any significant decision. So, instead of risking foot-hold, why not separate your church’s marriage ceremonies from any legally-binding act? If you really want to make a point, how about refusing to sign any marriage license?

Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your radio program now. Let’s hang out sometime soon!

Cheers,
James

PS: I like your screensaver. Did you design that?

These days, I’m getting a lot of Facebook friendship requests. I’d feel popular, but these aren’t from people, they’re from businesses, community benefit organizations, brands—things that offer no real connection.

I used to think it was cute. Heck, once upon a time, it was all that Facebook offered. But that’s not the case anymore, and though I’m not a “fan” of the new “like” pages, they serve the purpose that these non-people are really seeking. By connecting in this way—by “liking” something like a local business—I can receive announcements and share my enthusiasm about that company’s products and services, while still maintaining actual relationships with individuals.

Rather than ignore these requests (which violate Facebook’s Terms, by the way), I’ve decided to respond. Here’s what I sent to a local mall:

Hi there!

In an effort to ensure that my Facebook account allows for genuine relationships, I no longer accept “friend” requests from organizations or brands, despite often having a close affinity. I thank you for the request, and as an entity (and not a person), I will be happy to “like” you, or connect with your organization in a way that fits within Facebook’s Terms of Use.

Kind regards,
James

The the mall’s credit, a person with a name did respond, but she acknowledged that the account was used for announcing events and coupons. I can’t have a friendship with events and coupons, and those things that can be distributed through Facebook’s pages. Friendship denied.

To celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary, Kim and I took a day trip to Carmel. I had never been, and I don’t know that I have any desire to go back—the town seemed lifeless to me. A place without unique character.

With the exception of this guy, that is.

I don’t know his name. But Kim and walked past him sitting on a planter box wall. We both noticed his shirt, and laughed. So Kim went back and asked if she could take his picture.

We’re pretty sure he said “Yes,” but it’s hard to be certain, as English was not his first language. I’m not sure if that makes the shirt less or more entertaining.

So, Monday I was on my way to lunch with others from my office, and my phone buzzed. Upon reading the first text message, I wasn’t sure if I was the victim of a joke—I was, however, confident that I did not have a son. At least, not one old enough to know how to use an iPhone.

I’ve named said “son” Illegitimate Bill, and have included the conversation below. It took me a while, but I finally convinced Bill that he didn’t really know me, and that I would not be seeing him at the gym.

I sure hope he finds his father…

Today I shaved. I really don’t like doing that.

About a mile from my house I realized that I had done a poor job, and had missed a spot about the size of a dime. It’s hard to ignore a dime-sized patch of facial hair next to someone’s mouth. So I pulled into a gas station to buy a cheap razor.

As I approached the door, so did a woman, so I reached out, grabbed the handle, and cleared the way for her. In turn, she ingored me. Perhaps she was scared by the abnormal hair growth on my face.

It may be worth noting here that the woman 1) appeared older than me, and 2) was not notably attractive (in case you think that’s why I opened the door). The truth is, old habits die hard, and I still do those things my grandmother taught me. I still say “Please” and “Thank you.” I still say “sir” and “ma’am.” And I still hold open the door.

The cliché is that chivalry is dead. Today’s experience is a common one, which makes me wonder: Is it? Or is it our attention and appreciation that has died?

At different points in my life I’ve aspired to be an artist, a musician, and a bulldozer operator (not necessarily in that order). I’ve started down two of those paths, and fallen flat on my face; I’m just too reserved in my emotions to succeed at art or music. As for the bulldozer, I just need one I can practice on, so if you know of anyone…

Anyway, I say that to give yesterday’s outbursts a little context. I got heated on Twitter, defending Fresno from a group of individuals bent on being dissatisfied with the entire community. (Why most of the individuals in that group still live here escapes me.)

Perhaps the most frustrating thing, though, was having to defend myself for standing up for Fresno.

Here’s the deal: I love this place. I mean I really, really love Fresno and the valley. I didn’t want to—Kim and I wanted to move within five years of my arrival (six years ago)—but the more I learn, and the more relationship I forge, the more I want to stay. Yeah, I know about the crime, the air quality, the poverty, the ____; by staying, I’m saying that I’m willing to either 1) accept these or 2) try to change them.

Of course, I haven’t always felt this way. (Queue cheesy flashback music…)

Burned Bridges: The true story of James Collier

I lived in a city in North Carolina, half the size of Fresno, for close to 12 years before moving here. I hated the conservative mindset, the lack of “progress,” the agriculture history. Sound familiar?

When I left Greensboro, I took everything I owned. I wanted no reason to return, beyond visiting family and friends. But within weeks I realized that Fresno is smack in the middle of the “Bible Belt of the West,” and I found myself dealing with the same frustrations I thought I had left 2,211 miles away.

I saw two options: get the hell out, or engage. I chose the latter, and started to look for opportunities. After all, that’s what we have plenty of here, right? Opportunity?

What I didn’t do in that process is take time to talk trash about my former home. As Conlan has so eloquently pointed out, the hub of yesterday’s Fresno-focused criticisms (the person, that is) isn’t even in Fresno. Look, it’s like friending your ex on Facebook so you can look at updated photos—no matter how good those photos make you feel about your own life, sometimes you just need to move on.

What Fresno really needs…

Fresno doesn’t suffer from mediocrity. Or from a lack of culture, or many of the things people say they can’t find here. It suffers from an imposition of expectations—a lack of understanding. Of the history. Of the people. Of the potential. And that lack of understanding leads complacency.

An example? This morning, one of the group took a stab at the Met, referencing the potential 1,000,000+ audience in the surrounding county. But within that 1,000,000 people is a mix not found anywhere else—a wide range of cultural and socio-economic backgrounds. We can’t assume that they place the same importance on a museum that another like-sized community might.

Fresno needs people who understand the community, who are proactive in helping to define its future, and who will capitalize on its strengths. And we have that—in small clusters, but the numbers are growing. We have people who give a damn, and who are mature and innovative enough to pursue what they believe to be beneficial for a greater good.

That being said, I’d like to revise my earlier statement:

If Fresno makes you miserable, and you’re not resourceful enough to get out—assuming things like a court mandate or dependents aren’t keeping you here—you’re only contributing to the “mediocrity.”

I’ll go one step further to say that if you’re not inspired by something that’s happening in this community, it’s probably time to re-examine who you’re spending time with. Sure, we have problems, but there are people who are finding innovative ways to address and overcome them.

Then again, it’s easier and more comfortable to wallow in group-loathe. But if you really believe the grass is greener on the other side of the Delta, or the Grapevine, or wherever—and depending on what makes you happy, it very well may be—go graze.

The easy out: unfriend and unfollow

A significant portion of my time is spent online—the internet is what my business is built on, after all. I listen, and I add to the noise conversation, especially on Twitter, which is where all this stirred up. The great thing about online conversations is that you can tune them out; while that’s a common reaction, it’s also an easy way out, and (to me) it defeats the purpose of tools like Twitter.

So I do the exact opposite: I start listening more. I follow everyone participating in the conversation—if for no other reason, I want to know who to ignore in person. While I could just tune out the negativity, I’d rather combat it. If my passion comes through in the process, I’m okay with that.

The bottom line

Fresno needs advocates. We need people who don’t just live here, but choose to do so, without regret—and who are willing and eager to talk about why. That’s why I responded yesterday, and why I’ll continue to engage in this discussion. Fresno, I love you.

Talk about shit they want to read.

I used “research” as an excuse for buying an iPad because I didn’t know just how awesome it would be. Since I now carry it with me everywhere, I’ve decided to start sketching my friends while we’re together. This quick rendering of Conlan comes from last night’s Pub Quiz.

Conlan in Flannel

PS: Team Blogocide!