Thursday, July 16, 2015

What etiquette you should follow when applying for a job through Facebook

Several months ago I posted a job opening on Facebook. Using this mechanism was very fruitful, but also extremely disheartening. Many of the people who were interested had no concept of how to appropriately respond to the opportunity. While often Millennials are criticized and belittled for their disregard of convention and formality, I found that they were absolutely not the biggest offenders. My peers in their late 30s, 40s and 50s had no sense that they way they responded to the post would reflect on how the employer (me) would view them.

Therefore I thought it would be helpful to provide tips for how to apply for a job posted on social media.

  1. Read the post carefully.
This tells the employer whether or not your pay attention to detail and can, well, read.  Examples of mistakes caused by not reading closely:
  • Don’t comment with questions that are answered in the post. If you do so accidently, delete the comment immediately.
  • What mechanism does the employer want you to use to contact her? Don’t respond in a comment or a chat if the employer writes, “Please send your resume to”

2. Respond appropriately
This tells the employer if you are a good communicator and will represent the organization well.
Example of mistakes caused by not reading closely:
  • Don’t chat with a potential employer like you are chatting with a friend.
    After I posted the position on Facebook, I started receiving Facebook chats, even though I requested that the messages should be sent via email. I understood that when a job is posted on Facebook, someone might want to respond using the social media tool. However, the way people chatted was unacceptable. “Hey, what’s up. heard ur looking for some1 for your trip. id like to learn more.”  There are so many problems with this sentence. Besides the informal nature and the grammar, the person doesn’t actually ask any kind of decent question. “I’d like to learn more” isn’t actually an inquiry. It’s telling me how you feel. A better statement would be “I see that you are looking for a person with education experience. I have been teaching for three years. When would be a good time to speak more about the position?”
  • Don’t use emoticons or acronyms. Please. :) ! ;)  LOL
  • Write the chat or email as if you were writing a formal inquiry. Don't write, "Hey," write, "Dear Jennifer." Use conventional grammar, capitalization, and spelling. Typically when you chat you don't use an apostrophe or capitalize letters. I understand. But when applying for a position, you need to.
  • If the position asks for certain qualifications, and you don’t have them, you shouldn’t apply. Especially if the qualification includes certification or degrees. Just because the job is posted on Facebook doesn’t make the process of hiring or working less serious.
  • Consider your profile picture (and other pictures) before you apply. If your picture is of you doing shots or voicing a radical political message, your judgment will come into question.
  • Don’t friend me. I’m not looking for a friend, I’m looking for an applicant. You can add me on LinkedIn.
  • If I ask you for a resume or other questions, respond immediately. The beauty of Facebook is that the hiring process can go very quickly. You don’t want to be left behind.

I know some of this probably came across as quite harsh. However, I do hope I’m doing a public service. These things do matter and are easy to fix in the future. Best of luck!

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Camp Isn't For Everyone and That's Okay

As I see the pictures of friends who had children before me waving goodbye to their tweens on their first journey to the overnight camp where their parents met, or moms had their first kiss, or dad had the lead in the play, I can’t help but hope that they have a great summer, while wanting to shout through the Facebook universe:

You may not like camp and that’s okay.

As a Jewish educator, such words are risky to state out loud. Jewish camp is considered to be the gold standard of our religion. Everyone always asks at meetings, “How can we make Hebrew school to be more like camp so kids will like it?”  That question does not resonate with me. In fact, when I tell a colleague, after knowing them very well, that I didn't like camp, it feels like making a revelation like I was a Heroin addict as a child. The colleague doesn't understand how someone like me couldn't love camp. I have to give them some space and eventually their distrust of me fades. 

I went to a Jewish camp going into 5th, 6th and 7th grades and really did not like it. It doesn’t mean I didn’t like every second of it. I wasn’t crying, homesick for my parents. I just did not enjoy it. I don’t blame the camp. Many of my friends went there through high school, ended up being counselors, and even professional staff there. However, it was just not for me.

Why wasn’t it for me? I was really into sports at a time when perhaps many Jewish girls weren’t. So all of the sports activities were with the boys, and they ranged from tolerant of my presence to mean about my physicality. There was also an advanced sexuality at camp that I wasn’t ready for. I had my first kiss at 16, not 11 or 12. However, I felt inferior because that milestone seemed to be the goal of camp, a goal I wasn’t interested in but without understanding why. My third year I was asked on a “walk” by a boy, David.  He held my hand and I’m pretty sure it morphed into liquid as I sweated my way down the 100-foot path. As he wiped my sweat from his palms on his khaki pants, I walked away  filled with embarrassment, never wanting to speak to him again.

I also often felt lonely and sad during rest periods or on Shabbat. I’ve never been great at relaxing and kicking back.  As a kid, I needed a lot of stimulation and wasn’t much of a napper.

So you might ask, why did I go for three years?

Well, I thought camp was something you had to do like going to school.  My older brothers had gone to camp and so I did too. I didn’t complain to my parents just because I wasn’t really much of a complainer. After my third summer, when they received a letter detailing the 20 times I had been to the infirmary in 28 day,s did they catch on that something was wrong.

When they asked about it, I confessed that I didn’t like camp at all. So they asked me, “Why did you keep going?” and I told them I thought I had to.  I also thought it might get better. When they explained that it cost a lot of money and that I shouldn’t go if I didn’t like it, I was astounded and relieved.  I wish I could tell you that the next summer I went to an all girls’ sports camp and loved it. However, I also didn’t enjoy being with a bunch of snotty girls who had managed to not go through puberty yet, while at age 13 I wore two bras on the soccer field. At some point, I faked the intensity of an injury  (I got hit by a fast ball on the thigh) so I could go home.  At that point, I must admit I missed the Jewish camp.

Because there were good things at that Jewish camp. Some of the people I met were really nice. In fact, we connected later in life.  I enjoyed the Debbie Friedman prayers that I had never heard before. Given that I went to Jewish Day School, I was the star of the Color War Quiz Bowl, forever known as Rabbi Sharna.   I remember loving a couple of my counselors, one who bought me a journal because she could tell I needed one, (and perhaps a therapist.) I had a few solos in performances. The one I remember was in “You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown.”  I remember the campfire and the stories that Rabbi told in front of it that I would think about for days after.  I still remember a relaxation exercise that a counselor told us and have used it many times since, including on my nieces who refused to go to bed one night that I was babysitting. I also still recall an activity that we did on whether the Messiah will come one day and bring the Messianic age or do we bring about the utopian vision by our good deeds. 

So, whose fault was it that I didn’t like camp? Was the camp bad? Was I just a really weird, socially awkward, maladjusted kid?  There may have been some parts of camp that could have been improved, and for sure I had some issues as a kid, but I don’t think it was anyone’s fault.  A lot of parents I know would raise hell at the camp failing their kid, but I would just tell them:

Camp just isn’t for everyone and that’s okay.

If your kid comes home and doesn’t aim to be a song leader later in life, or isn’t  begging to go to the reunion in October, or just plainly says I am never going back there even if you pay me, don’t feel like a failure as a parent.  Even if you are asked to take your child home, again, it’s not the end of the world and shouldn’t necessarily indicative of many future failures.

Repeat after me: Camp just isn’t for everyone and that’s okay.

One year a student of mine asked me to advocate on his behalf with the director of a Camp who had banned him from attending because of the student’s behavior the previous summer. I called the Director, a legend in the community, and offered my observations of the student’s growth in ninth grade. The camp director wasn’t having it and talked about camp being a privilege, especially for someone receiving financial aid, and how this kid did not deserve the privilege.
So I said to my student,

Repeat after me: Camp just isn’t for everyone and that’s okay.

That student has gone on to be very successful, in jail. No just kidding. He’s in medical school.  

As an afterwards, I did end up going back to Jewish camp. This time I was 16 years old and attended a four-week seminar on Judaism and three weeks on leadership in Pennsylvania. I loved it.  I did have my first kiss there, sweaty palms and all, but felt smothered by the relationship and broke up with the guy 24 hours later.

This post is dedicated to my very best friend, Amy Silver Judd. 

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Etgar Keret

She sat in a Cafe Greg grading her students’ flash fiction stories as her husband played with their two-year-old daughter at Gymboree on the first floor of the Herzliya mall, the one by the beach. They came there every Saturday during the winter so Maya could expend energy and so that Ms. Cohen (not Mrs. Cohen, she frequently and annoyingly - to both parties- corrected her students; she hadn’t taken her husband’s name) could grade papers. She sipped a chai latte and avoided the glares of impatiently waiting customers wanting her crappy table inside the mall, not with a view of the sea. She also looked down when the pretty waitress approached the table asking her if she wanted something else. She knew that "something else" was a euphemism for “Your 18 NIS Chai Latte isn’t going to pay for my trip to South America.” But alas, everyone had their cross to bare, and Ms. Cohen’s was grading papers on a Saturday instead of playing with her daughter and occasionally holding her husband’s hand. 

However, if she were honest with herself, she had no desire to step foot in the germ-ridden, dirty Gymboree with balls wet from saliva and snot dripping, symptoms of the winter illnesses suffered by seemingly every child in Israel. So she was thankful for the mall cafe’s comfortable chairs, the nutmeg on her chai latte, and mostly for her husband who was dealing with the aggressive children, the loud parents, and the bad smell of the decades old pop corn machine. She was finishing grading a story about a student not being able to think about anything to write for this assignment when her red pen began fading. She pressed hard to circle the apostrophe he had incorrectly placed. She wondered if her red pen had suddenly remembered that it was the Sabbath, and no one should be working on the Sabbath. 

She looked around for a shop to buy a red pen when she saw him. He was downstairs with his wife and preteen son in between the Gap Kids’ 50 percent off sign and the wannabee Shuk in the mall featuring a Hello Kitty table filled with products such as a razor kit that seemed nonsensical to brand itself with a  cat. Ms. Cohen hated Hello Kitty. She didn’t like cats in general and in Israel, where cats served the same purpose as American squirrels, had propelled her dislike in to pure
hatred. Also, why didn’t Hello Kitty have a mouth? She guessed it was a patriarchal statement that women should be seen and not heard. Had he stopped to look at the Hello Kitty table, she would have been appalled. But, thank God, he hadn’t. Why was he at a mall in Herzliya  anyways? He belonged in an independent coffee house in Tel Aviv drinking straight espresso, but not smoking a cigarette.  The cigarette would be cliche and she no longer tolerated cigarettes since her daughter’s hospitalization for RSV and subsequent asthma. She lost sight of him and immediately regretted not going after him. But what would she say? “My students read your Flash Fiction and now I’m grading their own pieces of creative writing.”  He’d respond with an awkward smile and a glance of “leave me alone.” She called her husband to report the celebrity sighting. He didn’t answer. Perhaps he was playing with their daughter and not reading a liberal blogger on his phone. She returned to her papers when after correcting yet another incorrectly punctuated sentence, her red pen officially called it a day and headed to synagogue. She hadn’t been to synagogue since she had moved to Israel. She had never been less religious in her life. The other day her daughter saw Shabbat candles and started singing "Happy Birthday." How pathetic to have a pen more religious than she! As she continued to shake the red pen trying to find some remaining ink she felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Do you need a something to write with?” Etgar Keret asked in English. That annoyed her. How do Israelis always know when they spot an American? He and his family were waiting for a table, probably one with a view of the sea and not Gap Kids.

“Yes, I do, thank you,” Ms. Cohen said watching Etgar Keret look at the sprawled stories, taking almost every inch of the small circular table.  

He handed her a sharpened pencil. How would she grade papers with a pencil? She thought back to her liberal professor in education school who blamed the red pen for demoralizing young people so that they hated writing. A special education teacher recently chastised her for using a red pen. But red was her favorite color so she ignored the professionals and continued to ruin the lives of her students.

“Thank you,” she said insincerely.

“What are these papers about?”

“Well, they are pieces of creative writing.”

“Why have you marked them up like that? Isn’t that mean?”

“It’s my job. If I’m not mean, I will be told that I’m not doing my job.”

“That’s ridiculous. What are your students’ reading?”

“Actually, they read five of your short stories.”

He looked pleasantly surprised and asked, “What did they think?”

“Well,” she stammered wondering if honesty was the best policy, “They read you after Oscar Wilde and Gabriel Garcia Marquez. So, some of them didn’t understand why we were reading them; others appreciated the brevity.”

“Yes, I am good, but I am not Wilde or Marquez,” he said humbly.

“They also struggled with the notion of a talking fish,” she added. “I tried to explain that it was a Hebrew translation that they weren’t understanding, but teenagers are always skeptical.”

“They didn’t mind the premise of a man never aging, only his portrait does?” he asked.

“No, they didn’t seem to mind that,” she said.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’m going to grade the rest of these stories for you.”

“Oh no, Mr. Keret, I couldn’t have you do that,” she said.

“I insist,” he said.

How could she refuse? What an opportunity for her students to be read by an internationally-renowned author. What if he didn’t give them back, though? What would she tell the kids, their parents, and the principal?  But for some reason, she trusted him. She handed him her binder with the multiple drafts, story outlines, peer edits and asked him to have them ready a week before the semester ended when grades were due.

When she returned that Monday, she handed back the papers she had graded to her students and told the others that Etgar Keret would be grading theirs. Their reaction ranged from not caring, to disbelief, to excitement, to, “What if he’s a hard grader?”  She reassured them that if they were graded “too hard” she would adjust the scores.

Just as she had requested, one week before grades were due the binder appeared at the security desk with a box of sharpened pencils taped to it.  Ms. Cohen looked at the papers. He hadn’t marked them up, no, he had written “100 percent. A+.  Great Story! Keep writing!” at the top of every paper with his autograph. One one of the papers he had doodled a talking fish.

“Figures,” Ms. Cohen thought. Later that day, when she returned the batch of papers, the students who had received lower grades from her protested.

“It’s not fair,” they chimed.

Nothing was ever fair.

The next day she was called into the principal’s office. He showed her an email, written by the students, demanding that Etgar Keret grade all of their papers. She looked at the principal and asked him what he wanted her to do.

“You don't have to do anything,” the principal said. ”I spoke to Mr. Keret last night and he has agreed to be a guest English teacher here next semester. He will be taking your classes. You can sub for him when he goes on tour, but you will only receive sub pay."


He was grading papers with his pencil when she asked him how he would like his eggs cooked. He had ordered the Cafe Gregg breakfast.

“Scrambled,” he answered, not looking up.

"Would you like to add parsley, mushrooms and onions for five shekels?"

"Sure," he muttered.

“Toast?” she asked.

“Light bread,” he said.  

“Would you like your coffee now or after the meal?” she asked still writing the order down with her red pen.

“After, Mrs. Cohen, after,” he said shooing her away with his dull pencil.

“It’s Ms. Cohen, Mr. Keret,” she said with annoyance, but then remembering the possibility of a big tip she changed her tone and said, "But please, call me Karen."  

She entered the order into the computer, "accidentally" putting in a fattening croissant instead of light bread, and then made her way to the next table. It was the most tables she had every had; many of the other waitresses had called off because it was a Saturday and the previous night there had been a huge party of some sort at the beach. After her shift, she would go home to play with her daughter at the park. Since she had been demoted, they couldn’t afford the Gymboree anymore. However, on the plus side, when she finished work she didn’t have any papers to grade.

She couldn’t say the same for Etgar Keret.  

Sunday, April 26, 2015

My favorite lines of the White House Correspondents Dinner 2015

Here are my picks of the best jokes from the White House Correspondence dinner from funny to very funny. The very scientific criteria for the order was based on how much I laughed. 

10. On Saturday Night Live, Cecily impersonates CNN  anchor Brooke Baldwin, which is surprising, because usually the only people impersonating journalists on CNN are journalists on CNN.

9. The polar vortex caused so many record lows, they renamed it MSNBC.

8. And Bernie Sanders might run. I like Bernie. Bernie’s an interesting guy. Apparently, some folks want to see a pot-smoking socialist in the White House. We could get a third Obama term after all.

7. Hillary kicked things off by going completely unrecognized at a Chipotle. Not to be outdone, Martin O’Malley went completely unrecognized as a Martin O’Malley campaign event.

6. A few weeks ago, Dick Cheney says he thinks I’m the worst president of his lifetime. Which is interesting because I think Dick Cheney is the worst president of my lifetime.

5. ...for many Americans this is still a time of deep uncertainty.  For example, I have one friend just a few weeks ago, she was making millions of dollars a year and she’s now living out of a van in Iowa.

4. Being president is never easy. I still have to fix a broken immigration system, issue veto threats, negotiate with Iran. All while finding time to pray five times a day. Which is strenuous.

3. He’s not just a great Vice President, he is a great friend. We’ve gotten so close in some places in Indiana, they won’t serve us pizza anymore.

2. Today thanks to Obamacare you no longer have to worry about losing your insurance if you lose your job. You’re welcome, Senate democrats.

1. And it is no wonder that that people keep pointing out how the presidency has aged me. I look so old John Boehner’s already invited Benjamin Netanyahu to speak at my funeral.

To watch the entire speech:

To read the transcript, click here.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Facebook Privacy Changes

Given Facebook's change in guidelines on January 1, 2015, I declare that from this day forward any time I use a web site copiously, ignorantly, and for free, I agree to suffering the consequences until the unforeseeable future when I shall stop using said web site. If these posts were personal property, then I should keep them as such instead of constantly branding my virtual image to the world. However, it's too much fun and it's my only social outlet. (just kidding, not really #verylonely) Not to mention, this round of changes actually enhances my so-called privacy, not reduces it. However, if Mark is using my images for his ads, I hope he at least will Waze me the addresses of the billboards. Oh, right, Google bought Waze after it bought Blogger, three more free products I use that exploit my personal information.

I guess I need this little Waze guy to protect me.

Monday, November 24, 2014

Unreciprocated Rainbow

Today on my way to work, as a car was cutting me off, I saw a stunning rainbow. The rainbow followed me to school and was a magnificent site through the window of the Humanities teacher’s office that also serves as the school’s second-floor bomb shelter.  Sitting at this desk last week, I checked my Twitter account to learn of the terror attack on a synagogue in Jerusalem that left four dead as they said their morning prayers.

Meanwhile, Arabs in Israel are also being attacked, but by right wing Jewish nationalists. Over the weekend, some set fire to a home in an Arab village where two women were sleeping, but escaped.

The bad behavior on both sides seems to never cease. Eight and nine year old Palestinians in Jerusalem are being encouraged by their parents to skip school and throw stones and incendiary devices at Israeli police and soldiers.

Then looking at news from the United States, I was overcome with the horror of the UVA rape cases reported by Rolling Stone. Not to mention, the Congress’s desire to de-science the EPA. Meanwhile, I wonder if the United States was too naive in trying to make a nuclear deal with the Iranians.


I remember at Jewish camp when I was nine or ten years old, we discussed the following: who will bring Messianic peace: God or people?  There was no one answer, but the idea (it was a Reform camp) was that our actions change the world and God might chip in, too. This was a bit different from the Orthodox Jewish school, I attended that taught God judges our acts of loving kindness, but has the final say on all matters.

As I’ve gotten older, I have found myself to be less religious. Perhaps that will change again later in my life. However, because of the longevity of today’s rainbow, I have been  contemplating the Biblical food story. After Noah spends 40 days on the ark, God promises him to never destroy the world again. The rainbow is a symbol of that covenant.

But now, 20 minutes into writing this, the rainbow has disappeared. And I’m wondering if the story would have had a better ending had Noah promised God the same. Instead, he goes off to plant vineyard, presumably to forget his time on the ark.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Fox News Panelists, Anchors and Experts need to stand up to racism, bigotry, sexism and slander

In our 24 news hour culture which promotes vile, so-called-discourse as a means of discussing controversial topics, there are those who are equally as culpable as the propagators of misinformation protected as expert opinion: the bystanders.

The bystanders are the other experts, panelists, or anchors who do nothing to challenge the opinions of their dangerous and inflammatory peers, but cheer them, remain silent, or offer meek retorts instead of speaking out against statements that are just plain wrong.

 I am going to provide three example of this, but it happens just about everyday where talk over substance is the mode of operation.

On an August episode of “Out Numbered,” the hosts were talking about congressional opposition to First Lady Michelle Obama’s nutritional standards in schools. One of the panelist, Fox’s medical expert whose name I don’t want to use because he has earned undeserved notoriety from this exchange:

 “What is (Michelle Obama) eating?” he asked. “She needs to drop a few."
 “You did not just say that!” co-host Harris Faulkner said while the other women had their mouths drop open.
“We’re taking nutritional advice from who?” the doctor opined. “Let’s be honest. There’s not Frenchs fries? That’s all kale and carrots? I don’t buy it.”

Then they continued on to other pressing matters.

Harris might deserve 1/8th of a point for at least saying something, but it was not nearly forcefully enough especially given that it is her show, and what is wrong with her co-hosts? Does the cat have their tongues? Even Harris’s meek response should have been replaced with a more resounding one, calling out the doctor (who is a psychiatrist, not a nutrition expert) for his slander of the first lady. By not doing so, she might as well have endorsed his views.

Because of the controversy of the segment, they invited back the good doctor and at least, thank God, stood up for themselves when he told the four women that in addition to Michelle Obama, they needed to lose a few pounds.

"I'll tell you what the bottom line is," co-host Sandra Smith said. "In future appearances, maybe think about what you're going to say before you say it."

"It thought about it this time!" the Good Doctor insisted. "Listen if I came here on the couch and had a drink and you smelled it on my breath, wouldn't you say, 'Hey, … what's going on?'"

"I wish you were drinking now because that would explain this crazy behavior," co-host Kimberly Guilfoyle lamented. "Hell, no, you didn't just tell a Puerto Rican woman she needs to lose five pounds."

Perhaps you are thinking, who cares, it’s just about the First Lady’s weight? However, this perhaps minor issue is one example, but there are many more. This brings me to another Fox News frequent contributor who I also won’t name, because he doesn’t deserve the praise he’s received from fascists from the following exchange on Fox’s “Cashin In.”

The topic at hand was ISIS and American Muslims. The contributor who will be referred to now as Miss Piggy (sorry Miss Piggy!) said:

“We should have been profiling on September 12, 2001. Let’s take a trip down memory lane here: The last war this country won, we put Japanese-Americans in internment camps. We dropped nuclear bombs on residential city centers. So, yes, profiling would be at least a good start. It’s not on skin color, however, it’s on ideology: Muslim, Islamists, jihadist. That’s a good start but it’s only a start. We need to stop giving Korans to Gitmo prisoners, we need to stop having Ramadan and Iftar celebrations in the White House. We need to stop saying the enemy is not Islamic. They are.”

The Japanese Internment is considered to be, next to murdering the Native American populations and slavery, the third worst thing the American government has ever done. The U.S. government apologized for interning the Japanese. It was horrible.

Now Miss Piggy is a financial analyst. Why is he commenting on international affairs? Because Fox News asks him to, that’s why. But what’s most troubling about Miss Piggy’s comments is that no one challenged them. The show has a host, Eric Bolling, and two other panelists who seemed to think was he said was perfectly fine. Miss Piggy did end up giving the definition of a half-hearted apology a week later. However, the panelists and Bolling never said a word.

How amazing would it be if Bolling had responded to the apology, "Thanks Miss Piggy. And I apologize to our viewers for not pointing out that your comment was inappropriate, callous, and had no added value when discussing ISIS."

Perhaps Bolling’s lack of response is no surprise giving his own idiotic “Boobs on the Ground” comment made about Major Mariam Al Mansouri, the UAE’s first female fighter pilot who led its airstrikes against ISIS at the end of September. Bolling also apologized, twice in fact, for his sexist comments crediting his wife and US female military members for helping him see the light. Who didn’t say much of anything: the other four panelists sitting at the table including the female reporter who so proudly reported on Major Mansouri.

I'm going to use cable news rhetoric now: To the bystander panelists and reporters, you are a joke. Perhaps journalism is mostly dead anyways on cable news channels, but if it’s not, you are hammering the nail in its coffin by not challenging slander, racism, and sexism on your shows. How do you look in the mirror every day? I guess it’s the pay check that helps you, because it’s certainly not credibility that’s getting you out of bed.

You know it’s a sad day in broadcast journalist when Ben Affleck is the star panelist from the past few months, calling out Sam Harris and Bill Maher for their “Islam is the problem” statements on Live with Bill Mauer. While the show is partially scripted comedy, like the Daily Show, Colbert Report, and the John Oliver Show, the writers and hosts are often more informed about the issues and appropriately reactive to them than many of the panelists and anchors of the  Fox News (?) Channel.

Here’s the exchange:  

Maher: But you're saying the idea that someone should be killed if they leave the Islamic religion is just a few bad apples? 

Affleck: The people who would actually believe in that you murder someone if they leave Islam is not the majority of Muslims at all...

Thank you Mr. Affleck for standing up to the host and his sidekick. Perhaps you could do a training at Fox News in between promoting Gone Girl and Batman.