tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6062684095931039302024-02-07T20:10:58.209-05:00Kvetch My DriftWhine me, Dine me...Get Your Mind Out Of The GutterUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-5304173852786751692010-04-05T14:28:00.005-04:002010-04-05T15:32:21.907-04:00Strangers with CandyWe received an email and phone message from our school district alerting us of two scarier than hell incidents that happened two weeks ago. I'm not sure why it took them so long to spread the word to parents and I'll hold my judgement as to whether this could hamper any investigation.<div><br /></div><div>The first incident took place on a residential tree-lined street. Broad daylight. A group of students, age unknown, were approached by a man who requested they get into his car. They refused but the man followed them in his car for a period of time. </div><div><br /></div><div>The second event happened just two days later. Apparently a few kids were on the track of what I assume is the middle/high school field when a car pulled over and started taking pictures of them. </div><div><br /></div><div>All hyperbole aside, this is some scary shit for parents. After hearing about this I immediately conjure up this fantasy of how it would go down if my incredibly sweet and trusting six year old daughter were approached by some sick fuck looking to do her harm. He'd pull over and ask her if she could help him find his lost dog (a DOG?! Yes, of course random person! I'd love to help you find Mr. Beaujangles!). I think back to an ancient Oprah episode titled "Child Lures" I caught when I was just a child myself. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/B2_eo6wUT_A&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/B2_eo6wUT_A&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />The mother of that girl on the playground laughed. But I want to cry. I assume she was laughing out of sheer incredulous disappointment that her seemingly shy daughter went off with the strange man (played by Ken Wooden, author and children's safety advocate). <br />At eight, I bet that mother had talked with her child many times about what she ought to do if approached by someone she didn't know. The thing is -- as parents we can only fill our brains with hope and tamp down the fear. We never know how our kids will act when we're not around, or when we're preoccupied for all of one minute while outside playing on a gorgeous spring afternoon. We tell ourselves that our frequent reminders and gentle lecturing will ultimately quell most of their impulsive decision making for if they are, god forbid, ever propositioned. We tell ourselves this because the alternative scenario is too heart wrenching to even consider. <br /><br />In the book <span style="font-style:italic;">Protecting the Gift: Keeping Children and Teenagers Safe (and Parents Sane)</span> Gavin de Becker makes this brilliant observation:<br /><blockquote>...[The Rule} is intended to provide protection in the event the child is alone somewhere, because if a parent is present, then what difference does it make if a young child speaks with a stranger? The irony is that if your child is ever lost in public, the ability to talk to strangers is actually the single greatest asset he could have. To seek assistance, to describe one’s situation, to give a phone number, to ask advice, to say No – all these interactions require the child to speak with strangers. If kids view talking to strangers as the threshold they mustn’t cross, then when they do cross it (and they will), they have no further tools. Talking is just talking, after all, but since what we really want to avoid is our child going somewhere with someone, that’s the thing to teach them about.</blockquote><br />This is what I tell my daughter. I try to remind her as frequently as I can while keeping in mind that there's the chance my quizzing her on what she would do in such a situation could ultimately lead to an unhealthy fear of strangers. But maybe a little fear is a good thing?<br />What I tell her is that she should never, under any circumstances, go somewhere with another person unless her father or I am with her or we have given her permission ahead of time. I tell that if she is approached by someone she has not met before to come find me. If I am not around she should immediately find the closest mother with children. If no moms are around she needs to run, fast, and get to a house with a car in the driveway. Knock LOUDLY on the door and yell for help. <br /><br />What else is there to say? <br />What do YOU say to your kids about this subject? How do they react? Do you provide different information as they get older?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-51947033551880248632010-03-19T10:38:00.004-04:002010-03-19T10:48:41.130-04:00RibbitSpring has SPRUNG. <div><br /></div><div>I keep finding myself confused. Is this March or late May? Consistent days as lovely this are a rarity in this part of the country, especially so early in the season. We're taking full advantage of it -- long morning walks and late afternoon cul de sac bike riding and ball kicking. It does the spirit good. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of course the pessimist in me can't stop thinking about what's next. </div><div><br /></div><div>Next week: Frogs falling from the sky à la <i>Magnolia. </i></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-27056762776138172532010-03-09T14:45:00.006-05:002010-03-09T15:53:50.732-05:00Remembering BillInspired by a thread over at <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2010/03/what-drove-west-baltimore-to-such-desperation/37223/">Ta-Nehisi Coates' place</a> ~<br /><br />God, it must be about ten years since I last saw Bill. I'd known him since high school. He was the strange smarmy one out of a group of skater boys I sweated back then. They were a couple of years older and were clearly out to take advantage of my less than desirable reputation. I let them hang out in my bedroom when my parents were out even though I knew they didn't respect me...hell, they probably didn't like me much, if at all. They wrote on my walls with magic marker as was customary when people came to visit. My room was a veritable den of graffiti, covered from top to bottom with spools of thought, off-colored jokes, and pathetic attempts at erotic art. My parents gave me carte blanche for decorating my personal space and as a result, I chose the most garish way I could think of to make it my own.<br /><br />Anyway, Bill and his friends would come over on Saturday nights when my parents were doing dinner and a movie. I remember one time in spring they came around. I was probably in tenth grade, the boys were Seniors. They trashed my room and one of them left their underwear in my closet. I was mortified but probably would've let them come back again to re-trash my entire house had they wanted to. But they never did. I guess they got bored of how easy it was to treat me like shit.<br /><br />I never saw any of them again. Except for Bill. I don't recall how or where I ran into him. All I remember is how nice he was. How unbelievably real he seemed. Like a man. A humble and genuinely sweet person. He had been such a fucking asshole back in high school, always up to no good. Always up to the task of making someone else feel like crap. But now there was maturity. There was integrity. There was addiction. Both his and mine.<br /><br />It's odd to think that someone could develop an intense drug habit while simultaneously re-emerging as a good guy. It's antithetical.<br /><br />My recollection of details is hazy but suffice it say we came to the rather easy agreement that I'd drive the car-less Bill down to the shadiest parts of the city a few times per week and in exchange for the ride, he'd score me some cocaine.<br /><br />I didn't want to watch him shoot up his Heroin in my car. It wasn't so much that I even contemplating someone seeing us, in broad daylight. That would've been smart. No, I didn't want to see it, with my own eyes. I didn't want to watch the beautifully concise steps involved in getting the vein ready. I didn't want to watch the needle go in. I didn't want to watch the release. Mostly, I didn't want to watch his face as the immediate and intense warmth coursed through his bloodstream. I didn't want to know how good it was.<br /><br />I couldn't say no. He asked so nicely. So unlike the Bill I had known in school. So I let him. And it wasn't at all how I feared it would be. Prepping the vein seemed clumsy. With the way he was positioned in my passenger seat I couldn't see the needle go in. His face was expressionless. He smiled at me and his shoulders slumped backwards. He handed me a few bags of coke as I put the car into drive.<br /><br />We did this a few times that summer. Sometimes we'd go back to his apartment before he shot up. His place was in a complex across the street from my middle school. I'd also spent a few afternoons there in a sweet classmate's apartment when I was 12. I vividly remember my classmate's mom and how hard her life seemed. Two kids, husband long gone, living paycheck to paycheck. Those apartments and the lives inside them seemed like a different world compared to my comfortable house in the cookie cutter development just a few miles down the road.<br /><br />I'd do a few lines with Bill and we'd talk. We never talked about high school or any of those difficult memories from my childhood bedroom that were permanently etched into my brain. Mostly we talked about music and films and random things I'd probably bring up with someone on a date. It all seemed so easy. No expectations, other than the high. We did our thing, chatted for a bit, and then went our separate ways.<br /><br />He stopped calling me, out of the blue. I let it go and didn't look back. I felt myself getting too close to a full-blown, no turning back addiction. I was using it to keep boredom at bay, going at it alone, making me not like what I was becoming. I needed to separate myself from people who hadn't come to that realization in their journey. I was successful. I was fortunate.<br /><br />I used to read the obituaries back then on Sundays while eating breakfast. I'm not sure what I was looking for. Perhaps I was unwittingly attempting to quell my fear of death. Or maybe it was simple curiosity about the world around me and the people in it.<br />Naturally, most of the write ups were for senior citizens but every now and then I'd come across someone much younger. Like the day I saw Bill's name listed. I must've re-read his name five times before it registered. His family members were listed as well as choices for places to send donations in lieu of flowers. No mention of cause of death. There didn't need to be. I knew.<br /><br />Here one day, gone the next. Just like that.<br />I'm glad I got to know the other Bill, if even just for that blip of time. It was nice to know the different side. Sometimes I look back at these experiences of mine and it gives me a chill. The incredible amount of luck and safety bestowed upon me by fate. Internally I work hard at owning these memories and achieving a sense of peace that they all add up to my LIFE, good and bad and in between.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-6412439705717306542010-02-26T10:56:00.004-05:002010-02-26T11:13:21.279-05:00Dead of WinterI feel sluggish. Can't get the chill out of my hands. My mom tells me that as soon as she went through "The Change" she ceased to feel that cold gnawing at her bones each and every winter. So maybe it's part hormonal, as most everything seems to be. Estrogen balance sure is precarious -- one little smidge off and kablowey...you're a cold, raving lunatic who enjoys nothing more than a potato chip and chocolate bar sandwich.<br /><br />The tiny bit of motivation I muster up on good days dwindles to chronic idleness when the winter drags on. Everything is dead outside. I need signs of life to live life to it's fullest -- I need sprouts sprouting and sun blaring down on my freckled nose. I often wonder if my ancient relatives were desert dwellers. I'd thrive in such a climate. Living on the West Coast was like utopia. The East Coast outdoors has perks, no doubt...but it doesn't feed my soul the same way a drier climate does. <br /><br />We're indoors mostly and fresh air is in limited quantities. Every few weeks some plague or other -- head cold or stomach flu -- bears down on our home and makes us all wish we had never been born. Yes, I'm being overly dramatic, but tell me...when your sinuses feel like they're ready to explode or you stomach lurches in pain, don't you also wish to be taken out of your misery?<br /><br />Mark my words. When the season does change and we can finally say Sayonara to this record-breaking craptastic winter, I will be posting cheerier rants. <br /><br />Pinky swear.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-44690031758264353742010-02-18T14:28:00.003-05:002010-02-18T21:25:39.595-05:00Mid Year ConferencesSorry for the lag in posts. I'm back and ready to share my soul. Or something like that.<br /><br />I don't put a whole lot of stock in kindergarten. I view it as an extension of pre-school. Or at least that was what I thought of it before I had children. Now it seems like Kindergarten is the new first grade. A hundred years ago when I was a kindergartner our classroom time was primarily social. Now the focus is on rote learning even though the school staff spins it to make it seem like they incorporate creativity in their teaching methods. I'm not so sure. From what I gather all the kids in the entire school receive the same homework, week after week. Nothing fancy, straight out of some guidebook text. <br /><br />So it's with this knowledge that I went into today's conference. It was the third time I'd be talking with the teacher. The first was when we met at orientation and the second was for the first conference. Frankly, I was unimpressed both times. The initial meeting I chalked up to new teacher in a roomful of parents nervousness. I cut her some slack. Between then we emailed a few times about little things and she was always prompt in answering my queries. Definitely a plus. But then there was the first conference where I had to practically dig any information out of her. I know my kid is sweet...can you tell me anything else? Anything specific that lets me know you have separated her from every other one of her classmates? I left that meeting feeling thinking my kid got the shit teacher out of the bunch, particularly since so many other parents I know who have kids at the school have marveled over how fantastic their experience has been. <br />I held out hope and waiting until our next meeting. Today. It was pretty much the same deal as the first conference. She went over my daughter's work, ticking off percentages and highlights. It took all of three minutes. Told me she's a sweetheart and very social. Asked if I had any questions. If I hadn't rolled off a series of them, that would've been it. And even with my questions, she gave me no emotion. I had the suspicion she would've rather been anywhere else but meeting with me. And it's not like she's been at this for 30 years and is plumb tired of it. She's young and this is her second year. Who knows? Maybe she had the realization that she chose the wrong career path. Then get out or at least suck it up and pretend like you love it. Especially for my sake. I'm not asking much, or at least I don't think I am. I just want to know what my daughter is up to during the day. Share some cute anecdotes. Don't make the entire focus of our meeting about whether she's up to par with other kindergartners in terms of skills. Tell me what you guys do all day because I don't really know. My kid isn't much of a sharer. She tells me bits and pieces but I have to basically rip it out of her. <br /><br />Luckily this IS only kindergarten. I just hope this isn't a sign of what's to come.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-63669420844982778662009-09-16T14:06:00.004-04:002009-09-16T14:28:08.584-04:00Media InjusticeI've been following the MSM and blogosphere coverage of the Annie Le murder. If you haven't been, the short story is that Annie Le, a Yale University grad student went from missing to dead over the course of a few days. They found her body in the wall of the University lab she'd been working in on the day she was supposed to get married. In a word: Awful. But there's something else that's awful that isn't getting any media coverage that I've come across. <br /><br />Anyone remember Richard Jewell? He was the 1996 Summer Olympic Games security officer who's name and photo were dragged through the mud by the media before he was convicted of having anything to do with the bombing. As far as I know, Jewell unsuccessfully sued for slander, libel and defamation. The courts ruled that Jewell had to prove actual malice on the part of the media defendants which, naturally, he was unable to do. So you have a man who had to suffer the scarlet letter consequence of being convicted of a crime on TV and the national newspapers but had no recourse.<br /><br />Now I don't know whether the Yale lab tech who was picked up last night killed Annie Le. For the purposes of this blog post it doesn't really matter. What matters is that by this morning I had seen his name and likeness sprawled all over the MSM -- BEFORE the AP released a statement saying that the suspect has now been released and the police no longer believe he's their man. <br /><br />Talk about civil injustice. Where are his rights? Do suspects in high profile cases have any? What are they entitled to? Glenn Greenwald...Andrew Sullivan? Anyone? <br /><br />I hear crickets chirping.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-80832154116868158302009-09-03T16:21:00.003-04:002009-09-03T17:24:08.831-04:00The Frame GameNevermind that Medicare will be bankrupt in a decade. Nevermind that more than 60% of personal bankruptcies in America are a result of unaffordable medical expenses for people who actually HAVE decent coverage. Nevermind our appalling rates of infant mortality. <br /><br />These Progressive arguments are plainly ineffective when you are dealing with a sizable portion of the population who thrive on fear and hatred. They want Obama to fail, at any cost.<br />We finally have an intelligent person in the White House yet he's been unable to separate himself from special interest groups or prove to his base that he's going to deliver on his campaign promises and implement REAL change. Sadly, as of this posting Obama's base has done little to stand down the belligerent, inflammatory, wildly misinformed crowds that heckle our Congressional leaders. We hurl snark at them in Facebook groups and chortle in tweets at how ignorant their assertions are.<br /><br />But, riddle me this: If they are so ridiculous why are they winning? They have succeeded in making any true health care reform unlikely and unless Obama can pull his shit together last minute and somehow pen a speech to end all speeches come next week - he's going down with the rest of the Dems. <br /><br />The Framing is the Name of the Game. <br /><br />Despite all of his genius rhetorical skills Obama exhibited during the election -- as well as having what appeared to be a politically-savvy team behind him to rebuke the feeble attempts of the smarmy GOP to re-ignite their flailing party -- this administration has failed to bring about any significant change in the first, arguably most important, few months of being at the mantle. This is when the so-called political capital is at its height and it could be squandered in a month's time. <br /><br />The Right has been able to create a solid front and frame their protests to smack down any facts before they take flight. Sure, we've been solid at condescending. Remember those Teabaggers?! What a bunch of asshats from West Bumblefuck! <br /><br />But hear this -- we are the foolish. The joke is on us. <br /><br />They clamored for media attention. They played into America's fascination with train wrecks. And people took note. Americans who don't know that their own beloved free insurance is federally operated flocked to town halls to demand that the government stay away from our health care. This is who we are dealing with. <br /><br />Obama and his crew used numbers and statistics to appeal to Americans. But Americans don't give a flying fuck about statistics. They want grizzly photos. This is why so many good Christians send money to those poor African children Sally Struthers hawks on informercials. The pictures! The flies swarming their cherub faces. <br />They want sappy stories thrown in their faces about how their neighbors are going broke because they can't pay their medical bills. They want feverish hyperbole about how our sub par health care makes us a laughing stock in other countries. <br /><br />Watered down. Trigger. These are not terms we want to hear at this late stage of the game. We want it all and we want it framed in a way that magnifies the importance of getting this bill perfected NOW. Enough of the kowtowing to those in office who clearly don't want to negotiate. Enough of the town hall meetings that have only emboldened the berserkers. <br /><br />All eyes on next Wednesday. Obama, may the force be with you.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-57217615278912167232009-08-26T15:00:00.003-04:002009-08-26T15:07:25.775-04:00Mama Drama<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; font-family:verdana;font-size:11px;">Apparently the online feminist community is all <a href="http://kateharding.net/2009/08/25/straw-feminist-weekly-the-baby-hater/">atwitter</a> about NYU prof <a href="http://www.doublex.com/section/kids-parenting/katie-roiphe-my-newborn-narcotic?page=0,0">Katie Roiphe's article</a> on Hanna Rosin's site Double X. Maybe it's because I'm not much of a feminist, but I enjoyed this brief piece and can't really see what the hubbub is all about. <br /><br /><br /><blockquote><div style="margin-right: 20px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-left: 20px; margin-top: 5px; "><div class="smallfont" style="margin-bottom: 2px; font: normal normal normal 11px/normal verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; ">Quote:</div><table cellpadding="6" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%"><tbody><tr><td class="alt2" style="border-top-width: 1px; border-right-width: 1px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-width: 1px; border-top-style: inset; border-right-style: inset; border-bottom-style: inset; border-left-style: inset; border-color: initial; font: normal normal normal 11px/normal verdana, geneva, lucida, 'lucida grande', arial, helvetica, sans-serif; background-image: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-attachment: initial; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: rgb(246, 246, 246); color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-position: initial initial; ">I imagine a better metaphor would be addiction. There is an opium-den quality to maternity leave. The high of a love that obliterates everything. A need so consuming that it is threatening to everything you are and care about. Where did your day go? Did you stare blankly at the baby for hours? And was that staring blankly more fiercely pleasurable, more compelling than nearly anything you have ever done?<br /><br />One of the minor dishonesties of the feminist movement has been to underestimate the passion of this time, to try for a rational, politically expedient assessment. Historically, feminists have emphasized the difficulty, the drudgery of new motherhood. They have tried to analogize childcare to the work of men; and so for a long time, women have called motherhood a "vocation." The act of caring for a baby is demanding, and arduous, of course, but it is wilder and more narcotic than any kind of work I have ever done.</td></tr></tbody></table></div></span></blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-62407344027239384352009-08-02T16:35:00.003-04:002009-08-02T16:40:35.020-04:00Otty Sanchez<a href="http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2009/08/01/otty_sanchez/">How Could a Mother Eat Her Own Baby?</a><br /><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">The story of Otty Sanchez taps deep veins, unfolding like a Greek tragedy: A new mother breaks with her lover three weeks after giving birth to their child. Insane with grief, she hears voices telling her to kill her baby -- the fruit of their union. After murdering the infant, she begins to consume him, returning him to the body from whence he so recently came. In a moment of clarity she sees what she has done. Horrified, she tries to take her own life, stabbing herself in the heart and slitting her own throat.</span></blockquote><div><br /></div>I only heard of this yesterday -- and not the whole story.<br /><br />This article is the first I've read of what happened. It's gruesome and hard to understand how anyone can do this - but that's coming from a woman who does not have mental illness.<br /><br />Even more questions plague me. Should we not allow those who have been diagnosed with severe mental illness (i.e. those that cause delusions and severe paranoia) to become parents unless they can prove they are continuing to take their prescribed drugs? How does the zigzagging of hormones intensify mental illness and why aren't the physicians doing a better job of monitoring this?<br /><br />This is a doozy of a case - one straight out of the depths of our worst nightmares - so clearly it's being heavily followed by the media. But could this be more common than we think? Could other less dramatic cases of infanticide being improperly labeled as SIDS or whatever simply because our system of dealing with mental health problems AND (pregnant) women is so flawed?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-86751031265389868212009-07-30T14:23:00.002-04:002009-07-30T14:26:34.474-04:00Is Health Care the First Big Test?I think it is.<br /><br />Andrew Sullivan wrote something that I think rings true in this, er...every case.<br /><br /><blockquote>"...disaster is necessary for this country to do anything that might actually work."</blockquote><br /><br />So, we get all these weakened policy overhauls that amount to minimal change -- seemingly because modern politics stymie progress. Until healthcare or the economy implodes rather than suffering through slow motion hemorrhages Washington will put band aids on these problems as opposed to dealing with them head on.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-11489997270180181422009-06-03T15:23:00.002-04:002009-06-03T15:30:23.163-04:00Cabbage Patch Kid StankLong time, no blog.<br /><br />You know, it's the little things that give me agita. <br /><br />I'm doing some mindless task like unloading the dishwasher when Big Thoughts come into my head and do some anxiety-producing jig that gets me into a minor tizzy. Today's topic: What if it's the seemingly innocuous scents like Cabbage Patch Kid faux baby powder that are making so many women of my generation sub-fertile?<br /><br />Discuss.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-85720235246952934282009-04-21T19:33:00.001-04:002009-04-21T19:35:05.773-04:00Torture, Sigma Pi StyleI'm beginning to think that it's a travesty that Obama has announced that the CIA interrogators will not face justice. Like many I was first struck by the claim that they were acting under orders and that if we were to run up charges against the countless peons who were told to torture these prisoners we might be punishing individuals who under other circumstance wouldn't lift a finger to hurt a fly. <br /><br />But you know what? I'm now struck by how all of the people involved in this monumental shit storm are like your common Frat Boy. Say what you will about fraternity brothers at AnyCollege USA but the ones I have come across were what my mom would call "The Boy Next Door", probably a lot like the the baby-faced interrogators. They use their perceived innocence as a tool to get others to overlook their questionable behavior. They're the kind who get sweet joy from knocking around dorks in front of other people. The kind who deliberately hurt other people's feelings. The kind who make off-colored remarks about anyone who's different. They always laugh AT, not with. Maybe they aren't hard-assed criminals but they're still assholes. Give an asshole the freedom to do whatever he pleases under the guise of nationalism and what do you get? You get the same guy who gets his rocks off by making other guys chug their body weight in whiskey until they pass out - only now he has a government-sponsored outline of how to waterboard detainees. Welcome to Guantanomo, Sigma Pi style.<br /><br />I'm a true blue Obama supporter but anything short of a full blown investigation of EVERY person involved in this scandal is a scandal in and of itself.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-54958662034488586362009-02-11T09:20:00.009-05:002009-02-11T11:20:41.253-05:00Big, Strong, Capable HandsAs I follow the current political yammerings about the economic free fall and corresponding water downed stimulus my memory harkens back to September 14, 2001. Americans were wandering around wet eyed; fearful on so many levels. The desire of citizens from every walk of life to do something....<span style="font-style:italic;">anything</span>, was palpable. Our leader at the time took to the streets with bull horn in hand. Never a man of (sensible) words, he mustered up every ounce of swagger in his being and spoke to an exhausted yet inspired crowd of rescue workers. He had some trouble with the horn and someone yelled out, "We can't hear you!". Bush immediately responded, "I can hear YOU!". <br /><br />The crowd cheered. <br />It hardly mattered. He had us at hello. <br /><br />Bush spoke of earned capital after he anchored in his second term in office. I'd argue that he had that capital in the palm of his hands on the days in the immediate aftermath of 9/11 and he squandered it. <br /><br />While "Yes We Can!" had yet to become the lightning bolt phrase it turned into on this year's campaign trail it was certainly a feeling that permeated through a nation hellbent on <span style="font-style:italic;">doing</span> rather than sitting idly by letting a catastrophe get the better of us. We were ready and willing to lend a hand, to donate services, to hunker down...just waiting for our leader to advise us on how we could help. <br />When our economy faltered in fear in the months following 9/11 we were told to spend. We were frequently told to spend and then spend some more. Some of us thought it was awfully ironic that a so-called conservative administration was acting like a six year old given free reign at a Toys r Us. But we did what we were told. Like sheep. Sheep who came upon deals too good to be true but got caught up in the American Dream of home ownership. Mortgage companies didn't put a gun to our heads but isn't the view from this bay window leading out to 3/4 of an acre purty? Think you can't afford it? Well, maybe if we finagle this number here and make it so that you can afford it now and MAYBE you can afford it in 5 years if nothing God forbid strikes your family in the meantime. But wait...we were told to spend! My job is secure and my kids are healthy, if not vibrantly so. So I'm stealing from Peter to pay Paul with credit cards jacked up with interest rates of 25%. It'll work itself out. I hope it'll work itself out. <br /><br />But sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes having no regulation when you're dealing with money is a very, very bad thing. We didn't self-regulate and neither did our government and now we're both screwed.<br /><br />It's a new dawn, a new day. We have a young man in charge with a new brand of swagger reminiscent of the best men of long ago generations. This man, unlike his successor, is a wordsmith at heart. His intelligence is magnificent and his ability to generate excitement is unprecedented. At this crossroads in history an American President, once again, has us in the palm of his hands. <br />This is why it's so deeply regrettable that the stimulus package, as it stands now, is bereft of real change. One of its main goals is to increase confidence in the market. Right now Wall Street is wringing its hands in worry and Main Street is focused on making ends meet. Not a lot of confidence anywhere. It seems that those at the helm are intent on using bipartisanship as a way to signal an end to politics as usual. It's a beaut of a theory but in reality it appears that extreme ideologies have no interest in budging, even if it means shitty days are about to get even shittier. <br />What I wonder is why there aren't more clever ideas on the table for this package. Here we're supposed to have the brightest men and women trading ideas, banging heads, spending their newfound liberally-bent capital and their big idea is to build new schools? <br />Bravo to that, for sure, but COME ON! What about rail lines and big tax breaks for only those who invest in green technology? How about something like another World's Fair? It would employ hundreds of thousands and stimulate the economy the way only a vast outside shopping mall might. <br />I don't see it as either or. Why can't one be a centrist AND forward-thinking? With all that's at stake the stimulus should be unlike anything we've ever seen - broad and awe-inspiring, not weak and underwhelming. <br /><br />I want to believe we are now in big, strong, capable hands but there's an image gnawing at me. <br />It's the Rockbiter from the 1980s fantasy flick The Neverending Story. This giant yet gentle creature was sure he'd be able to hold onto his miniature friends when The Nothing made its way through Fantasia. What happened instead was one of the saddest parts of the entire movie.<br /><br /><blockquote>They look like big, good, strong hands. Don't they?<br /><br />I always thought that's what they were. My little friends. The little man with his racing snail, the Nighthob, even the stupid bat. I couldn't hold on to them. The nothing pulled them right out of my hands. I failed.</blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-29082947438725122722009-01-30T09:46:00.002-05:002009-01-30T10:09:50.064-05:00Redistribute, Baby, Redistribute!Here's how the Yahoo News Feeder appears right now:<br /><br />• Economy shrinks 3.8 percent; biggest drop in almost 27 years<br />• Exxon Mobil breaks its own record with $45.2 billion profit<br />• Obama slams $18 billion in Wall Street bonuses as 'shameful'<br /><br /><br />Where's the headline saying, <br />"The rich are STILL getting richer. Those poor assholes who are now unemployed or underemployed? Hold on! We'll just throw money around until something sticks. Remain calm and please don't kill yourself and your entire family."<br /><br />So many folks seem to worship Reagan. Isn't he the guy who made trickle down economics famous by cutting taxes for the wealthiest few? See how that's been working for our society? Not so much. <br /><br />The argument that these rich folks work hard for their vast amounts of wealth is bullshit. Somehow I don't think that if you matched up these fat cat Exxon Mobil executives with a blue collar worker you'd say the former is busting his ass so hard he needs to be compensated millions. Sure, these execs have stress. Stress is relative though. They might be stressed because that Eames armchair doesn't come in powder blue to color coordinate with their house in the Hamptons. The blue collar worker is afraid his sick wife won't be able to go to the doctor because he can't afford the copay AND groceries for the week. Different kinds of stress, don't you think?<br /><br />Saying this greed is shameful is like saying filling a cavity without Novocaine hurts for a second. Woefully inadequate for the severity of the situation. How about some real reform? How about doing away with tax cuts and tax loopholes for the billionaires - not just admonishing them. Take back these fat cat bonuses and use that money to stimulate the economy. Distribute it to those who have nothing but work their asses off. No one should have more than they can use in a lifetime while so many struggle to survive.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-86747562059210701132009-01-27T10:11:00.000-05:002009-01-27T10:12:55.071-05:00Say What?!People still have rabbit ears for their TVs?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Really?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-22741056075199191652009-01-14T10:24:00.003-05:002009-01-14T10:44:44.098-05:00Tagging Ad NauseamThe other day a dear friend commented on how Facebook is both wonderful and evil. I can see her point - there's something extremely gratifying about locating old friends (or even simple acquaintances), seeking out a friend request, waiting for its arrival and then holding your breath to see if they'll comment on how you haven't aged a bit in the fifteen years it's been since you last saw each other. <br /><br />There is a flip side, however, to this giant virtual reunion. It can get a little dicey when former loves are found, especially for people who currently reside in a state of existential crisis. So much more can be said in an email than on the phone or in person. Mouths and telephones don't have nifty delete buttons like keyboards do. There's something inherent with email that allows people to be incredibly daring, to seem infinitely more cool than they ever would face to face. And this can spell trouble. <br /><br />But what really interests me is that my generation will undoubtedly be the last to have this unique experience of googling old flames, former best friends or incommunicado relatives. We're all so tune in now, so open to sharing every aspect of our dull lives online that it will be nearly impossible to remain anonymous in the years to come. Six degrees of separation has been chunked in half by the advent and popularity of social networking sites and it will make the old adage "keep in touch" obsolete.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-89333908960364218592008-12-30T20:38:00.003-05:002008-12-30T21:17:31.314-05:00Summing Up Eight YearsHave you seen Laura and Condie's recent media pouncing trying to convince America that eventually we will all recognize just how fabulous W really was? <div>Well, this end of the year <span style="font-style:italic;">Vanity Fair</span> article will surely put to rest any question or misgivings you might have about calling this administration the worst group of reckless asshats in the history of the United States government.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 26, 139); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><br /><a href="http://www.vanityfair.com/politics/features/2009/02/bush-oral-history200902?currentPage=1">An Oral History of the Bush White House</a><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br />Here's an excerpt<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-style:italic;">March 19, 2003 The Iraq war begins. Two weeks of “shock and awe” bombardment herald the invasion by ground forces. U.S. and British troops make up 90 percent of the “international coalition,” which includes modest support from other countries. The defeat of Iraqi forces is a foregone conclusion, but within days of the occupation Baghdad is beset by looting that coalition forces do nothing to stop. Rumsfeld dismisses the breakdown of civil order with the explanation “Stuff happens.” Kenneth Adelman, a Rumsfeld- appointed member of a Pentagon advisory board, and initially a supporter of the war, later confronts the defense secretary.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Kenneth Adelman, a member of Donald Rumsfeld’s advisory Defense Policy Board</span>: <br />So he says, It might be best if you got off the Defense Policy Board. You’re very negative. I said, I am negative, Don. You’re absolutely right. I’m not negative about our friendship. But I think your decisions have been abysmal when it really counted.<br />Start out with, you know, when you stood up there and said things—“Stuff happens.” I said, That’s your entry in Bartlett’s. The only thing people will remember about you is “Stuff happens.” I mean, how could you say that? “This is what free people do.” This is not what free people do. This is what barbarians do. And I said, Do you realize what the looting did to us? It legitimized the idea that liberation comes with chaos rather than with freedom and a better life. And it demystified the potency of American forces. Plus, destroying, what, 30 percent of the infrastructure.<br />I said, You have 140,000 troops there, and they didn’t do jack shit. I said, There was no order to stop the looting. And he says, There was an order. I said, Well, did you give the order? He says, I didn’t give the order, but someone around here gave the order. I said, Who gave the order?<br />So he takes out his yellow pad of paper and he writes down—he says, I’m going to tell you. I’ll get back to you and tell you. And I said, I’d like to know who gave the order, and write down the second question on your yellow pad there. Tell me why 140,000 U.S. troops in Iraq disobeyed the order. Write that down, too.<br />And so that was not a successful conversation.</blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-40867151488122409882008-12-18T20:15:00.002-05:002008-12-18T20:21:14.822-05:00Angry Mob at Change.govObama supporters are angry about Rick Warren delivering the invocation at the presidential inauguration next month and are making their voices heard at Change.gov<br />Here's a sample comment:<br /><br /><blockquote>Mr Obama,<br /><br />I am writing to ask that you return the campaign donations made by myself, Jacinto Hernandez, and my husband, Charles Callahan, to your campaign. Chet and I were passionate supporters-- Chet volunteered for weeks at a local phone bank. We attended numerous rallies and fundraisers-- including one with your wife, Michelle (see attached picture) That fund raiser was ostensibly held to court support with the gay community. At that fundraiser, Michelle held my my baby and promised to "not forget us." Yet you have. We worked tirelessly for your campaign-- replacing our yard sign when it was vandalized. So why would you betray the gay community- that stood by you-- and ask Rick Warren to lead your inauguration, when his anti gay rhetoric is dangerous to our family. He also was a huge proponent of proposition 8, that has endangered our family and has eliminated the civil rights of thousands of Californians.<br /><br />We gave thousands of dollars-- despite the tough economy- in hopes that are community would no longer be marginalized. Despite the passage of prop 8, we celebrated on election day. Today we feel betrayed. There are so many christian leaders who are advocates for the gay community-- why choose one who is not?<br /><br />Please return our donations immediately. We made donations over a number of occaisions, frequently in response to "urgent" pleas from your campaign. Consider this an "urgent" plea as well.<br /><br />Please remove us from your mailing lists and never ask us for your support again, unless you stand with us and reject homophobia once and for all.<br /></blockquote><br /><br /><br />Your move, Mr President-Elect.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-39281782528358204422008-12-18T14:54:00.002-05:002008-12-18T14:57:48.121-05:00Obama in Response to Anger Over Warren<blockquote>Let me start by talking about my own views. I think that it is no secret that I am a fierce advocate for equality for gay and lesbian Americans. It is something that I have been consistent on and something that I intend to be consistent on during my presidency. What I've also said is that it is important for Americans to come together even though we have disagreements on certain social issues. I would note that a couple of years ago, I was invited by Rick Warren's church to speak despite his wariness that I held contrary views.... that's what this campaign was about....We're not going to agree on every single issue...but what we have to do is be able to create an atmosphere that we can disagree and not be disagreeable....</blockquote><br /><br />This is as good of a response as I can think of.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-13365661387306174732008-12-18T13:29:00.005-05:002008-12-18T13:51:53.294-05:00God, The BigotI'm not the most religious person. In fact, organized religion has never been a part of my life. I know a tiny bit about the religion of my birth, Judaism, and even less about Christianity. The little I know about Christianity comes from reading and talking with those who are guided by it's principles. <div><br /></div><div>Now I don't want to pigeonhole anyone and I know Christianity, just like most other religions, is a nuanced set of beliefs that varies from one subset to the next, but I just can't wrap my head around the sheer hypocrisy of some of it's followers. </div><div><br /></div><div>How can one preach love and acceptance and in the same breath deny commitment to countless adults? How can one be so dedicated to living life as a moral human being yet be so determined to prevent others from living their lives as they see fit? </div><div><br /></div><div>Since when was anyone's religion the rule of our land? </div><div>If I ever do find myself a believer in a higher being it sure as hell won't be to a bigoted deity. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TedAr31uiwo&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TedAr31uiwo&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-56811390908107735682008-12-17T09:58:00.002-05:002008-12-17T10:09:36.854-05:00Boo to Obama on Choice of Secretary of AgricultureDespite petitions from organic farmers and advocates of sustainable agriculture, Obama has chosen Tom Vilsack for Secretary of Agriculture. <div><br /></div><div>Who is Vilsack? </div><div>He's a former Governor of Iowa who is a staunch supporter of GMO food, particularly pharmaceutical corn. He has fought to limit states' rights to regulate seed, GE crops and pharma crops and he's also in favor of corn and soy biofuels - both of which use as much as or more fossil energy to produce as they generate. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is very alarming news and doesn't bode well for the future of our soil and our food supply. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-606268409593103930.post-70526280554238247212008-12-16T13:57:00.000-05:002008-12-16T14:12:19.782-05:00Impeach!No, not Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich - although I do think he needs to be kicked to the curb post haste. I'm talking about something even more sinister, more mind-bogglingly evil than trying to sell a Senate seat. <div><br /></div><div>Torture. That's right, folks. Torture is what I speak of. Our abysmal President Ok'd illegal torture, so says a bipartisan Senate Armed Services Committee Inquiry. </div><div><br /></div><div>What to do now? Throw shoes? Make excuses? Pretend it's not our country abusing power and breaching laws of the land? </div><div><br /></div><div>I know many of us are hoping Obama can restore respect and admiration for our country after the last eight years but it's hard to imagine how other countries can look to us as a moral society until we bring Bush, Cheney and Rumsfeld to trial. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0