Last week on This American Life the theme was 'Ruining it for the rest of us...' and what happens when one person's actions or choices affect a lot of other people.
The opening was a study of group dynamics and behavior by a Professor of Management who found that one bad apple could spoil the whole bunch girl; and it's something that I have seen myself as a manager of people. It's so easy to be negative that if someone on your team starts enticing you there you tend to slide right into hell with them.
This business of our choices affecting others is nowhere more evident than the subprime lending crisis. People borrowing money they can't afford to repay affects us all. Our choices aren't made in a vacuum.
player
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Story Corps
I love this program on NPR - Story Corps is an organization that lets ordinary people record stories of their lives. This morning, in a story from Atlanta, the story was a hospital chaplain reflecting upon her retirement. A friend interviews her and asks her about the most significant moments in her ministry. The chaplain's answer moved me.
First she spoke of blessing the hands of hospital workers, not just doctors and nurses but the janitorial staff who clean toilets, the people who do food prep, each of them getting a blessing to carry out their efforts. it struck me how forward thinking and comprehensive her ministry was - to honor the work and labor of each person doing the meanest task.
Then she told of a place in the hospital, in windowless rooms, where surgical technicians assemble the instruments for each surgery. They are given an order with patient's name and all the instruments required for that person's surgery. The chaplain said that as she blessed the hands of a woman technician who was doing this work, the technician told her that she'd been doing the job for 40 years and for all that time, as she assembled the tools for each surgery she prayed for that person by name as she added each instrument.
The chaplain said she found out that many of the technicians did this and she talked of the importance of this work that no one knew about - the families didn't know their loved one was being prayed for, the person having surgery didn't know and the technician would never meet these people or know the outcome of the surgery. But each had this quiet ministry, requiring no reconginition of their work.
It would be easy to look at the job description of one of these surgical techs and to list the requirements and duties of the job. But it's impossible to estimate the value of the creativity and energy someone brings to a job, where it's not required and there is no tangible benefit to the worker to do more and go above what's asked of them.
First she spoke of blessing the hands of hospital workers, not just doctors and nurses but the janitorial staff who clean toilets, the people who do food prep, each of them getting a blessing to carry out their efforts. it struck me how forward thinking and comprehensive her ministry was - to honor the work and labor of each person doing the meanest task.
Then she told of a place in the hospital, in windowless rooms, where surgical technicians assemble the instruments for each surgery. They are given an order with patient's name and all the instruments required for that person's surgery. The chaplain said that as she blessed the hands of a woman technician who was doing this work, the technician told her that she'd been doing the job for 40 years and for all that time, as she assembled the tools for each surgery she prayed for that person by name as she added each instrument.
The chaplain said she found out that many of the technicians did this and she talked of the importance of this work that no one knew about - the families didn't know their loved one was being prayed for, the person having surgery didn't know and the technician would never meet these people or know the outcome of the surgery. But each had this quiet ministry, requiring no reconginition of their work.
It would be easy to look at the job description of one of these surgical techs and to list the requirements and duties of the job. But it's impossible to estimate the value of the creativity and energy someone brings to a job, where it's not required and there is no tangible benefit to the worker to do more and go above what's asked of them.
On The Porch of Charlie
It's so funny how children discern new concepts and the questions they ask reflect that. Wilbur plays around with syntax as he learns the rules of expressing oneself. Lately he keeps asking us what certain things are - conceptually, he's trying to understand it. Like midnight - he asked what time is midnight. But he'll also ask what something is when it just is what it is...
Yesterday, as we got 12 inches of snow between sunrise and sunset, they went out to play at our next-door-neighbor's house. I bundled them up and put a hat on Wilbur under his parka hood. When Wilbur got home I noticed that the hat wasn't on his head and asked him about it. "Oh NO!" he said - "I left it on the porch of Charlie!"
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Barack Obama and Rick Warren
I have no fondness for Pastor Warren, but I totally understand this strategy from our future President and I think it's more than a ploy. If you want people to understand your position and have any respect for you at all, you have to bring them into your fold, and it's so obvious that Obama is one of those people who could find some kind of value in sitting down for a beer with almost anyone.
It's the smart move. If democrats and religious progressives like myself ever hope to be understood by the religious right, we have to talk to them. We can't all keep playing this game where when I'm in charge you're shut out and when you're in charge I am.
I am encouraged, like some kind of Libra, that this man keeps his friends close and his enemies closer and that he shows deference and respect for people whose views are very different from his own. We need this kind of dispassionate, reasoned, rational approach. Someone from any part of the spectrum may be the one with the bright idea. It'd be a shame to miss it because of ideology.
It's the smart move. If democrats and religious progressives like myself ever hope to be understood by the religious right, we have to talk to them. We can't all keep playing this game where when I'm in charge you're shut out and when you're in charge I am.
I am encouraged, like some kind of Libra, that this man keeps his friends close and his enemies closer and that he shows deference and respect for people whose views are very different from his own. We need this kind of dispassionate, reasoned, rational approach. Someone from any part of the spectrum may be the one with the bright idea. It'd be a shame to miss it because of ideology.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Richie, Ralph and Ponzi
What is Ponzi I asked myself? Is it an acronym?What's interesting to me about this kind of greed is that Bernie Madoff and Ken Lay and the Tyco guy and Ted Stevens ET AL are people who are generally bright and well-educated, completely aware of the thing they are doing and how the ripple will stretch out from the center. It's not like some person embroiled in poverty for a lifetime who steals a TV from WalMart.
I have just been shocked at the unscrupulousness of Americans in general; like people who buy a house they absolutely know they can't afford, or the woman on 60 Minutes the other night in Miami who is a successful acupuncturist but got involved in real estate on the side. Rula Giosmas. The acupuncturist. The real estate speculator. This woman/prototype has brought our financial system to its knees.
This idiot woman bought 6 properties - some of them apartment complexes and multi-family homes - and now has them financed with adjustable rate mortgages which she cannot afford to pay. When asked by Scott Pelley if she'd read the paperwork, if she'd understood that the interest rate was ADJUSTABLE, she looked unblinking back at him and said, I KID YOU NOT, 'I was very busy. ' As if that is some sort of reason or answer. As if we care that she was busy. Or that since she was busy it was clearly incumbent upon someone else to understand her financial wheeling and dealing.
Here's the story:
Asked what she understood about the loans, Giosmas says, "Well, unfortunately, I didn't ask too many questions. I mean in the old days, I would shop around. But because of the frenzy, and I was so busy looking to buy other properties, I didn't really focus on shopping around for mortgage brokers."
"But if you're investing in real estate, you're buying multiple properties, you should be asking a lot of questions," Pelley remarks. "Why didn't you ask?"
"I was busy. I was really busy looking at property all the time, all day long," she replies. She also acknowledges that she didn't read the paperwork. Now she’s losing money on every property.
I want homeowners to get help and Main Street to get help, but this kind of stupidity should experience the Darwinian result of its actions.
Here's what wikipedia says about Ponzi Schemes:
A Ponzi scheme is a fraudulent investment operation that involves paying abnormally high returns to investors out of the money paid in by subsequent investors, rather than from the profit from any real business. It is named after Charles Ponzi.[1] The term "Ponzi scheme" is used primarily in the United States, while other English-speaking countries do not distinguish verbally between this scheme and other forms of pyramid scheme.[2]
The scheme usually offers abnormally high short-term returns in order to entice new investors. The perpetuation of the high returns that a Ponzi scheme advertises (and pays) requires an ever-increasing flow of money from investors in order to keep the scheme going.
The system is destined to collapse because there are little or no underlying earnings from the money received by the promoter. However, the scheme is often interrupted by legal authorities before it collapses, because a Ponzi scheme is suspected and/or because the promoter is selling unregistered securities. As more investors become involved, the likelihood of the scheme coming to the attention of authorities
increases.
The scheme is named after Charles Ponzi, who became notorious for using the technique after emigrating from Italy to the United States in 1903. Ponzi was not the first to invent such a scheme, but his operation took in so much money that it was the first to become known throughout the United States. His original scheme was in theory based on arbitraging international reply coupons for postage stamps, but soon diverted later investors' money to support payments to earlier investors and Ponzi's personal wealth. Today's schemes are often considerably more sophisticated than Ponzi's, although the underlying formula is quite similar and the principle behind every Ponzi scheme is to exploit investor naïveté. However, it has been shown that entering a Ponzi scheme can be rational even at the last round of the scheme if a government will likely bail out those participating in the Ponzi scheme.[3]
Sunday, December 14, 2008
nunchuck and weremote
Yesterday the boys were going upstairs to play the wii and since we only have one nunchuck at the moment (I know, we are getting another one for Christmas, who knew so many games required the remote and nunchuck?)... since we only have one nunchuck Emery said, "I call nunchuck!" and Wilbur said, "I call weremote!"
D and I laughed with each other about this. First of all, it's so funny that the little 0ne calls the thing that's left. But even funnier is how Wilbur has always called the REmote the WEREmote. Like Werewolf but Weremote. I don't know how this is because he pronounces other words with RE just fine.
It's one of those things that I hope never goes away, even though I know it will.
D and I laughed with each other about this. First of all, it's so funny that the little 0ne calls the thing that's left. But even funnier is how Wilbur has always called the REmote the WEREmote. Like Werewolf but Weremote. I don't know how this is because he pronounces other words with RE just fine.
It's one of those things that I hope never goes away, even though I know it will.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
A Triumph!
We saw Emery's first acting efforts tonight in front of a full house and it was glorious! He was so wonderful, natural, beautiful to watch! I don't want him to be an actor, but I loved seeing him up there; he was confident and self-assured and when he had the briefest glimmer of uncertainty in the first moments he was out there he just breathed a deep breath and found his place and blew on by.
We don't act anymore, Doug and me... But we certainly benefit from our experience and we know Emery will, too. It's a skill, to stand up in front of a crowd and play a part - whether speaking on some subject or being a character. Tonight he was the narrator - sort of a master of ceremonies - and he played it to the hilt. And we were so proud.
We don't act anymore, Doug and me... But we certainly benefit from our experience and we know Emery will, too. It's a skill, to stand up in front of a crowd and play a part - whether speaking on some subject or being a character. Tonight he was the narrator - sort of a master of ceremonies - and he played it to the hilt. And we were so proud.
What if there were no hell?
What if Jesus died for everyone, really? Like he really did and no matter what you did or said or what religion you were or where you were born or how you were raised? What if? What would church mean if he just died for everyone? If he just died for everyone. period. What if that was his gift and he gave it - he didn't expect anything in return. A true gift.
What if Jesus said, "I am a way, a truth and a life?" What if Jesus said things that were transcribed in a slightly different way than the way he actually said them? What if we asked questions about how the bible became the bible? Who picked what's in there? What did they leave out? What could happen?
What if Jesus is a savior, a prophet, a messiah? Does he have to be the only one? Does he have to be the only way? What if he weren't? What if his message of love and inclusion is for you, whether you believe it or not? What does that mean to people who believe? Is that a threat? Why?
What if we have a creator who loves his creation? What if we are the collective creators and the creation? What if we can't really understand what that all means? Is it worth killing for, When we may not really understand it?
What does it mean to believe without fear? What would it mean to just have faith for today and nothing else happens - no hell, no heaven? Or what if heaven is a sleeping child in the crook of his parents' arms? What if it's just peace? Would that be ok?
What if Jesus doesn't need your belief? What if he just gave a gift and he doesn't need something back? What if we all get to be one with creation in death? What could that mean? What if all the things that matter now fell away? Deeds, misdeeds, loves, failures, crimes great and small? Is that bad?
What if Jesus said, "I am a way, a truth and a life?" What if Jesus said things that were transcribed in a slightly different way than the way he actually said them? What if we asked questions about how the bible became the bible? Who picked what's in there? What did they leave out? What could happen?
What if Jesus is a savior, a prophet, a messiah? Does he have to be the only one? Does he have to be the only way? What if he weren't? What if his message of love and inclusion is for you, whether you believe it or not? What does that mean to people who believe? Is that a threat? Why?
What if we have a creator who loves his creation? What if we are the collective creators and the creation? What if we can't really understand what that all means? Is it worth killing for, When we may not really understand it?
What does it mean to believe without fear? What would it mean to just have faith for today and nothing else happens - no hell, no heaven? Or what if heaven is a sleeping child in the crook of his parents' arms? What if it's just peace? Would that be ok?
What if Jesus doesn't need your belief? What if he just gave a gift and he doesn't need something back? What if we all get to be one with creation in death? What could that mean? What if all the things that matter now fell away? Deeds, misdeeds, loves, failures, crimes great and small? Is that bad?
Monday, December 08, 2008
Capital Disgrace
I don't think of myself as an activist with regard to capital punishment and the failure of the death penalty as either a deterrent or as a just solution, but whenever I hear any story of any death row inmate - no matter how guilty, no matter the circumstance, I start to feel like an activist.
I watched the documentary At The Death House Door on Saturday (on IFC) and I kept thinking 'this is a Good Friday drama'. The death row inmate, Carlos de Luna, is proclaimed innocent by an overwhelming number of people and yet he's dead, killed by the State of Texas. And it didn't go well. It took 11 minutes.
The man at the center of the documentary though is Carol Pickett, whose death house ministry has turned him into an activist, although he's uncomfortable with that word. He crusades all over Texas against the death penalty.
I want to take this story and use it for Good Friday and Easter. That idea hit me right between the eyes when de Luna asked to call Carol Pickett Daddy. It just jumped out at me - Abba, Father...
I watched the documentary At The Death House Door on Saturday (on IFC) and I kept thinking 'this is a Good Friday drama'. The death row inmate, Carlos de Luna, is proclaimed innocent by an overwhelming number of people and yet he's dead, killed by the State of Texas. And it didn't go well. It took 11 minutes.
The man at the center of the documentary though is Carol Pickett, whose death house ministry has turned him into an activist, although he's uncomfortable with that word. He crusades all over Texas against the death penalty.
I want to take this story and use it for Good Friday and Easter. That idea hit me right between the eyes when de Luna asked to call Carol Pickett Daddy. It just jumped out at me - Abba, Father...
Friday, December 05, 2008
Emery On Stage
Emery's first dramatic performance will be this coming Wednesday with Woodinville Montessori School's Christmas Caper. Emery has a near photographic memory, so if he'll read through his lines a few times he'll have it, and with some basic maintenance he can have it down cold. The thing is, IF he'll read through it and do the basic maintenance.
It's funny that when I was acting the most pesky question was, "how do you learn all those lines?" because it seemed like the least of the work and here you'd just sweated it out all over the stage and someone asked you about memorization. It'd be like watching a mechanical genius rebuild an automobile engine and then asking him or her, "How did you slide under the car?"
But, having said that, I realized when Emery joined the drama club and came home with his first script, memorization was going to be the biggest hurdle. All of a sudden I wanted to ask him, "How are you going to memorize all these lines?" Because there were a lot of them - big long speeches... And I had no concept of the rehearsal strategies or methodology. So, we've gone over and over the lines; trying to have him slow down to a pace where human ears can hear what he's saying and he doesn't sound like an announcer on a car commercial. We've tried to give him pointers without telling him how to do it or making him frustrated or, God Forbid, giving him a line reading. We've said things like, "you're going to be nervous at the performance so you really want to have this down cold." And, "you know, if you go up during the show you'll have to SAY something - you can't call for line."
I realize he doesn't really know what we're talking about. He's never done this so he can't imagine how naked and vulnerable it feels 2 minutes before the show starts, or how you question all the work you've done and think thinks like, 'what in the world have we been doing for the past 6 weeks - I don't remember anything! Have we even rehearsed?' So we just keep urging him on, and looking forward to seeing him up there. We know he'll understand it all very soon.
It's funny that when I was acting the most pesky question was, "how do you learn all those lines?" because it seemed like the least of the work and here you'd just sweated it out all over the stage and someone asked you about memorization. It'd be like watching a mechanical genius rebuild an automobile engine and then asking him or her, "How did you slide under the car?"
But, having said that, I realized when Emery joined the drama club and came home with his first script, memorization was going to be the biggest hurdle. All of a sudden I wanted to ask him, "How are you going to memorize all these lines?" Because there were a lot of them - big long speeches... And I had no concept of the rehearsal strategies or methodology. So, we've gone over and over the lines; trying to have him slow down to a pace where human ears can hear what he's saying and he doesn't sound like an announcer on a car commercial. We've tried to give him pointers without telling him how to do it or making him frustrated or, God Forbid, giving him a line reading. We've said things like, "you're going to be nervous at the performance so you really want to have this down cold." And, "you know, if you go up during the show you'll have to SAY something - you can't call for line."
I realize he doesn't really know what we're talking about. He's never done this so he can't imagine how naked and vulnerable it feels 2 minutes before the show starts, or how you question all the work you've done and think thinks like, 'what in the world have we been doing for the past 6 weeks - I don't remember anything! Have we even rehearsed?' So we just keep urging him on, and looking forward to seeing him up there. We know he'll understand it all very soon.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
You Can't Take It With You
I'm sure it's just because I'm reading Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, but... We saw Seattle Rep's production of YCTIWY last night and the Vanderhof/Sycamore family had resonances to me with my visions of the Sedaris family.
I don't mean to say that David Sedaris sees his family the way Alice sees hers, but they are so eccentric and funny.
It was a lovely production and so timely, what with the state of the world the way it is.
I don't mean to say that David Sedaris sees his family the way Alice sees hers, but they are so eccentric and funny.
It was a lovely production and so timely, what with the state of the world the way it is.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Happy Birthday Granny
Today would have been Granny's 93rd birthday. Doug and I were talking about this last night and saying it was still hard to imagine that she is gone.
I hear her every now and then and I talk to her too. Just like I talk to Daddy. I was watching an old Andy Williams Christmas special on PBS the other night and he got choked up about still missing his parents, even though now he is a very old man. Time changes the pain and lessens it, but it also makes me sad to be less sad. I don't want to keep losing the people I've lost. I don't want to lose my memories of them or the sharpness of their image in my mind. So feeling better is a different kind of grief.
I hear her every now and then and I talk to her too. Just like I talk to Daddy. I was watching an old Andy Williams Christmas special on PBS the other night and he got choked up about still missing his parents, even though now he is a very old man. Time changes the pain and lessens it, but it also makes me sad to be less sad. I don't want to keep losing the people I've lost. I don't want to lose my memories of them or the sharpness of their image in my mind. So feeling better is a different kind of grief.
out of the habit
I haven't been journaling/blogging for a few days and I find I'm a bit out of the habit. Our Thanksgiving was lovely - Leigh & Alex and Gabrielle and Charles Henry came and stayed the night. Erick and his girlfriend Amber came (and Erick did a lot of the cooking). Tyler came and brought Green Bean Casserole. It was a great time and everything was delicious. It made a huge difference having Erick there to do most of the cooking. I did all my stuff on Tuesday and Wednesday (cranberry sauce, cheesecake, cornbread and dry ingredients for dressing, fruit salad, brining) and he was really on the spot Thursday (he made brussel sprouts with pancetta, creamed corn, mashed potatoes, a lovely salad and a fabulous banana/butterscotch dessert).
It is always so nice to see my nephews, and it just makes me even more excited for Christmas!
It is always so nice to see my nephews, and it just makes me even more excited for Christmas!
Monday, November 24, 2008
Granny's Musical Chairs
As the holidays approach and we have planned to have our wonderful guests spend nights in our home for Thanksgiving and Christmas, I keep remembering a story we tell in our family... People were coming to stay with Granny and Poppa and my mother and somehow, the way Granny had it arranged in the end, no one got to sleep in his own bed. She came up with some sort of illogical solution and my family has laughed about it for years now.That story is sort of a life-lesson story for me to just relax about the details and give up some of the control. Maybe step back a bit and see what I'm really doing - how I'm actually arranging things and ask myself, Does this make sense?
I keep thinking about where all these people are going to sleep. What if my nephew Erick and his girlfriend stay the night on Thanksgiving? Where will they sleep? But, you know what Paige? It'll work out and you shouldn't worry about it. And don't make Leigh and Alex sleep in your bedroom so that Erick and Amber can sleep in Wilbur's room, while Wilbur sleeps with you in Emery's room and Doug and Emery sleep in the TV room. Because that's the kind of scenario you've been devising and guess what? No one would be in his own bed!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
quick note
Emery just told me he was really reluctant to go downstairs and feed his guinea pigs in the morning b/c the heat isn't on first thing and it's quite chilly. It sounded so funny for him to say, "I'm really reluctant..."
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Wilbur loses tooth, and really loses tooth
I drove Emery to tennis on Saturday and as we parked the car Wilbur says, "I lost my tooth." Just very calmly, I lost my tooth. So I said, "Oh! when did you lose it?" and Wilbur replies, "10 minutes ago."
Well, knowing that my 5-year-old has no concept of time or the difference between 10 minutes and 8 hours I start to get a little concerned. It turns out that we don't know where or when he lost his tooth and he hasn't said one word about the tooth fairy.
I've started to wonder if he was so concerned with the tooth fairy coming that he just got rid of that tooth! He wouldn't be that cheeky, would he?
Well, knowing that my 5-year-old has no concept of time or the difference between 10 minutes and 8 hours I start to get a little concerned. It turns out that we don't know where or when he lost his tooth and he hasn't said one word about the tooth fairy.
I've started to wonder if he was so concerned with the tooth fairy coming that he just got rid of that tooth! He wouldn't be that cheeky, would he?
Monday, November 17, 2008
Christmas Hair Bows
http://www.abunchofbows.com/smalchrishai.html
Ok, this is so funny. When I see the two words Hair Bow together, I think of UT Bow Heads. I don't know if everyone had bow heads in the 1980s, but in Austin we had this sect or class of girls. The bow head:
1. in a sorority. And not some lame one like KD. Tri-Delt, Theta, Chi Omega
2. wore those nylon soccer/jogging shorts. When I think of the things we wore that gave us no shape at all and yet that's what was in. And they wore them really low on their hips.
3. always had on big oversized t-shirts with the short-sleeved arms rolled up so they looked sleeveless. You had to have really skinny arms to roll your sleeves up like that and not have your shoulders and upper arms look manly. I know because I didn't.
4. Hair always pulled into a tight ponytail almost on the top of your head - tied with, you guessed, a big bow.
Now the bows got BIG. And these girls may not all have been stupid, but they sure looked like they were and they certainly sounded like they were. Every sentence began with "Ummmm..." Except it was more like Ehmmmm....
I shudder to think of it.
Ok, this is so funny. When I see the two words Hair Bow together, I think of UT Bow Heads. I don't know if everyone had bow heads in the 1980s, but in Austin we had this sect or class of girls. The bow head:
1. in a sorority. And not some lame one like KD. Tri-Delt, Theta, Chi Omega
2. wore those nylon soccer/jogging shorts. When I think of the things we wore that gave us no shape at all and yet that's what was in. And they wore them really low on their hips.
3. always had on big oversized t-shirts with the short-sleeved arms rolled up so they looked sleeveless. You had to have really skinny arms to roll your sleeves up like that and not have your shoulders and upper arms look manly. I know because I didn't.
4. Hair always pulled into a tight ponytail almost on the top of your head - tied with, you guessed, a big bow.
Now the bows got BIG. And these girls may not all have been stupid, but they sure looked like they were and they certainly sounded like they were. Every sentence began with "Ummmm..." Except it was more like Ehmmmm....
I shudder to think of it.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Prop 8
I've been so elated about the election that it has been difficult to think about what happened in California. I haven't wanted to lose steam... But, it's impossible to ignore the fact that we still face these disagreements with each other over basic civil rights.
As I sat at my Living the Questions seminar on Wednesday, I thought about how often I, as a left-leaning open-minded Christian, have sublimated my true beliefs in the face of more conservative views. I thought about how the entire time I was growing up there was this intuition in me that said, 'that doesn't sound like a loving God' when confronted with narrow interpretations of the divine. I feel evangelistic now - about my expansive view of God and my radical views of Jesus. I don't want to keep silent.
I got into an argument with Norm our contractor over this issue of marriage for all. He made what I'm sure he felt were innocuous statements about the timing of pushing this gay marriage stuff and said things that sound evil to me like: what about civil unions?
I lit into him. I gave my now well worn argument comparing civil unions to Brown vs. the Board of Ed and the ignominy of the concept of separate but equal... I hollered that, as a WASP man he had no idea what it meant to be asked to wait and be patient for rights that others enjoy. If it were 1922, I said, and I weren't allowed to vote, how long should I wait for you to wake up and acknowledge my right? When is it a good time for you? When might you get around to it, since you aren't the one suffering?
My pastor and her partner were married in California. I can't imagine waking up one morning to find that I am no longer married. Or that the marriage license I purchased from the state of Texas was invalid. Would they give me my money back? Or is it insult and injury for same sex couples who paid the state for the right to marry?
As I sat at my Living the Questions seminar on Wednesday, I thought about how often I, as a left-leaning open-minded Christian, have sublimated my true beliefs in the face of more conservative views. I thought about how the entire time I was growing up there was this intuition in me that said, 'that doesn't sound like a loving God' when confronted with narrow interpretations of the divine. I feel evangelistic now - about my expansive view of God and my radical views of Jesus. I don't want to keep silent.
I got into an argument with Norm our contractor over this issue of marriage for all. He made what I'm sure he felt were innocuous statements about the timing of pushing this gay marriage stuff and said things that sound evil to me like: what about civil unions?
I lit into him. I gave my now well worn argument comparing civil unions to Brown vs. the Board of Ed and the ignominy of the concept of separate but equal... I hollered that, as a WASP man he had no idea what it meant to be asked to wait and be patient for rights that others enjoy. If it were 1922, I said, and I weren't allowed to vote, how long should I wait for you to wake up and acknowledge my right? When is it a good time for you? When might you get around to it, since you aren't the one suffering?
My pastor and her partner were married in California. I can't imagine waking up one morning to find that I am no longer married. Or that the marriage license I purchased from the state of Texas was invalid. Would they give me my money back? Or is it insult and injury for same sex couples who paid the state for the right to marry?
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Doug has to go back to Iowa today with Dwight to do some things for my mother-in-law. In this picture he's wearing his favorite T-shirt which says, "No one listens to me until I fart." I loathe this t-shirt even though I bought it for him. I loathe it but it makes me laugh because it's so silly and stupid and true. It's such a DAD shirt. We talk about all the inappropriate places he could wear it.So we are going to be missing daddy for the next few days. The boys are already pouty-lipped since he's the fun one and I'm the dictator.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Scary Fairy
Wilbur is just about to lose both his bottom front teeth - they are practically horizontal. This has prompted a lot of discussion about the tooth fairy. We all tell him about the Tooth Fairy like we discussed it before and he knows all about it, but it has become clear to me as the teeth get looser, that he is a bit concerned about some creature flying into his room as he sleeps...
Upon reflection, why wouldn't he be? I started wondering if I should really talk about this made up fairy. I was watching Wilbur's face this morning as Emery told him the things that would happen, what Wilbur would do with the tooth or teeth, where he'd put them, and what would happen next. Wilbur had a look of real terror on his face.
When I picked him up from school today, the first thing he said was, "Mom, what IS the tooth fairy?" Like - what is it - a person coming into my room, what?
Maybe this isn't such a good idea - telling him these fibs and scaring him about freaky fairies who like teeth. As we explained it the other day he said, "Why does she want the teeth?" And we all just stared at him, Emery, Doug and me... What do you say in the face of such logic? Why would she want the teeth? What shall she do with them?
I have no answers, only questions...
Upon reflection, why wouldn't he be? I started wondering if I should really talk about this made up fairy. I was watching Wilbur's face this morning as Emery told him the things that would happen, what Wilbur would do with the tooth or teeth, where he'd put them, and what would happen next. Wilbur had a look of real terror on his face.
When I picked him up from school today, the first thing he said was, "Mom, what IS the tooth fairy?" Like - what is it - a person coming into my room, what?
Maybe this isn't such a good idea - telling him these fibs and scaring him about freaky fairies who like teeth. As we explained it the other day he said, "Why does she want the teeth?" And we all just stared at him, Emery, Doug and me... What do you say in the face of such logic? Why would she want the teeth? What shall she do with them?
I have no answers, only questions...
Friday, November 07, 2008
'Cause Breaking Up Is Hard To Do
It's odd to outgrow a friendship.
I have never been any good at letting things slide with people. I have made my husband and other friends very uncomfortable by confronting a casual statement. And I have never been one of those southern women who is too nice to tell you how she feels. Often to a fault I tell and I should really just shut up. It would be a lot easier to let it go.
I guess I'm afraid that if I did that - let some stupidity or hate or false statement slide, where would I stop? Some examples --
someone recently said to me that all of this trouble with greed is bound to happen when people don't feel accountable to their creator... Couldn't let that go. So, if you're agnostic or atheist you can't be a good citizen? Is that the implication?
someone recently said to me that they wouldn't mind civil unions (not marriage though) but why now? Did they gay community really need to push this now? -- I certainly couldn't let this go. How long should someone wait for a basic human right? What if it were 1922 and I weren't allowed to vote? Should I forgo that fight because there's too much going on? Ridiculous.
And then there's that prayer. That prayer I received... AAAAHHH. That Prayer. It can't even be called a prayer it's so hateful. Calling reproductive choice sinful. Calling welfare recipients lazy. And the sender has no idea why this made me so angry. Of course not. The author of this foul prayer, Joe Wright, can't imagine it either. People who are so imbued with that hateful rhetoric seem to be incapable of understanding its impact. Their self-righteousness prevents it.
I know how flawed I am. I come before the divine again and again seeking forgiveness, admitting my failures. But I can't abide that KNOWING that some people have about who is right and who is evil. The more I learn the more I know that the less I know. The more open to the questions I am. And if my faith were so tenuous that a single circumstance could undo it, I guess I might hold fast to fantasy too. But my faith is not that way - the physical properties of this world, the social and economic realities of biblical times, the flawed human authorship of the Bible, the non-existence of hell -- I didn't grow up being taught all these things, but acknowledging them now doesn't shake my faith. My perceptions might alter, but my understanding of the divine merely grows.
I have never been any good at letting things slide with people. I have made my husband and other friends very uncomfortable by confronting a casual statement. And I have never been one of those southern women who is too nice to tell you how she feels. Often to a fault I tell and I should really just shut up. It would be a lot easier to let it go.
I guess I'm afraid that if I did that - let some stupidity or hate or false statement slide, where would I stop? Some examples --
someone recently said to me that all of this trouble with greed is bound to happen when people don't feel accountable to their creator... Couldn't let that go. So, if you're agnostic or atheist you can't be a good citizen? Is that the implication?
someone recently said to me that they wouldn't mind civil unions (not marriage though) but why now? Did they gay community really need to push this now? -- I certainly couldn't let this go. How long should someone wait for a basic human right? What if it were 1922 and I weren't allowed to vote? Should I forgo that fight because there's too much going on? Ridiculous.
And then there's that prayer. That prayer I received... AAAAHHH. That Prayer. It can't even be called a prayer it's so hateful. Calling reproductive choice sinful. Calling welfare recipients lazy. And the sender has no idea why this made me so angry. Of course not. The author of this foul prayer, Joe Wright, can't imagine it either. People who are so imbued with that hateful rhetoric seem to be incapable of understanding its impact. Their self-righteousness prevents it.
I know how flawed I am. I come before the divine again and again seeking forgiveness, admitting my failures. But I can't abide that KNOWING that some people have about who is right and who is evil. The more I learn the more I know that the less I know. The more open to the questions I am. And if my faith were so tenuous that a single circumstance could undo it, I guess I might hold fast to fantasy too. But my faith is not that way - the physical properties of this world, the social and economic realities of biblical times, the flawed human authorship of the Bible, the non-existence of hell -- I didn't grow up being taught all these things, but acknowledging them now doesn't shake my faith. My perceptions might alter, but my understanding of the divine merely grows.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Joe the Preacher
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Someone sent me an awful prayer - the subject of the email was, "A Prayer for Our Nation." If it had come by post I'd have burnt it. It was so hateful and awful that I have cut ties with the sender. The email attributed this prayer to Billy Graham, but that was wrong. It was by Joe Wright. The email said, "He is such a wise man, he really knows what's going on in the country right now!" But the prayer was delivered in 1996. I found it on snopes.
I am so tired of pablum Christianity with its black and white everything and swallow-it-whole mentality. So sick of just receiving junk like that via email - toxic, harmful and wasteful trash - and doing nothing about it. I'm so tired of hateful language casting me as a sinner for what I believe. I'm not going to take it anymore. Those right-wingers are on notice. No more facebook friendliness.
I won't write it. But I'll pray its opposite.
The religiosity that some cling to inspires this prayer.
We confess that we have ridiculed those who question and sat in judgment of them.
We have worshipped a hostile and unwelcoming god of our own design instead of learning about your nature and the lenses - Jesus, Mohammed and others - through whom we might know you.
We have endorsed exclusivity and called it Christ-like.
We have held tight to our money and called it faith.
We have neglected the needy because they haven't earned our love and called it prudent.
We have made the first first instead of the last first and denied a helping hand to those who need it.
We have decided we know better and characterized private choices as sinful acts.
We have taught our children to hate what they don't understand and called it Homeland Security.
We have abused power and called it a necessary means to an end.
We have ridiculed our neighbor's ideas and called it righteousness.
We have polluted the air and thought nothing of our responsibility to your creation and called it economics.
We have invented the values of our forefathers and pretended that they endorsed the idea of a Christian nation and called it our mission.
The religiosity that some cling to inspires this prayer.
We confess that we have ridiculed those who question and sat in judgment of them.
We have worshipped a hostile and unwelcoming god of our own design instead of learning about your nature and the lenses - Jesus, Mohammed and others - through whom we might know you.
We have endorsed exclusivity and called it Christ-like.
We have held tight to our money and called it faith.
We have neglected the needy because they haven't earned our love and called it prudent.
We have made the first first instead of the last first and denied a helping hand to those who need it.
We have decided we know better and characterized private choices as sinful acts.
We have taught our children to hate what they don't understand and called it Homeland Security.
We have abused power and called it a necessary means to an end.
We have ridiculed our neighbor's ideas and called it righteousness.
We have polluted the air and thought nothing of our responsibility to your creation and called it economics.
We have invented the values of our forefathers and pretended that they endorsed the idea of a Christian nation and called it our mission.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Segregation and Patsy Lynn Blackburn
My mother wrote this article for the community blog where she lives. I was very moved by it and it's the kind of thing I want to hold on to in my journal here for posterity. I no longer take my family history for granted, having lost my dad and his memories. I have been trying to devise ways to hold on to our stories, we Thompsons and Blackburns and Moons... This is a start.
The election is over, and I have been reflecting on its meaning. All of the pundits have been referring to this election as "historic." This is certainly true in two main ways--an African-American presidential nominee and the Republican nomination of a woman for vice-president. I would like to look at this election in a more personal way.
I was born in 1938 and grew up in Ft. Worth, Texas, a completely segregated city. Everything was divided into black and white: the schools, the swimming pools, the parks, the bus and train stations, the cemeteries, the movie theaters, the hospitals, the churches, the doctor's offices, the funeral homes, the neighborhoods, and the restaurants, diners, and coffee shops.
When my mother and I went downtown to shop (there were no malls back then), there were two water fountains by the elevators. One was labeled "Colored" and one "White."
I always wondered what would happen if I drank out of the wrong one. Being a child, I imagined that an alarm would sound and I would be arrested or something. So, of course, I never tried it or even asked. In public places, there had to be four restrooms divided by race and gender. (You can figure it out.) In smaller businesses, there were usually no restrooms for blacks at all. There was a very popular barbecue restaurant in what was called "Colored Town" called The Big Apple. Many whites ate there, but blacks were not allowed inside. They could go to a window in the back of the restaurant and order food to go. It may have been the original "Take Out" in Ft. Worth. I was never in a classroom with an African-American student until I started teaching in San Antonio in 1962. (San Antonio was integrated early and never had the racial conflicts that other southern cities had.)
This was the norm, and I accepted it. When I was in the 8th grade my parents and I moved, and I rode a city bus across town to and from school each day. The white people sat in the seats from the back door to the front. The black people had to sit from the back door to the rear. Of course, there are fewer seats back there. There was no sign or marker indicating this fact. Everyone just knew. Sometimes the seats at the back of the bus would all be taken, and black people had to stand crammed in the aisle in their section. The front of the bus might have plenty of empty seats, but no black people sat there, ever.
In 1968, I was teaching American History to 10th graders, and we were studying the Civil Rights Movement. I was telling the class about all these things I have written about here. The students seemed very involved in my lecture. When I got to the part about the buses, one young man raised his hand and said, "Mrs. Thompson, what did you do about it?"
There was a long silence on my part. I finally said, "Nothing." I went on to explain how I was just 13 years old and didn't think I could do anything about it even though it seemed unfair. That seemed like a lame excuse at the time and still does today.
Patsy
I was born in 1938 and grew up in Ft. Worth, Texas, a completely segregated city. Everything was divided into black and white: the schools, the swimming pools, the parks, the bus and train stations, the cemeteries, the movie theaters, the hospitals, the churches, the doctor's offices, the funeral homes, the neighborhoods, and the restaurants, diners, and coffee shops.
When my mother and I went downtown to shop (there were no malls back then), there were two water fountains by the elevators. One was labeled "Colored" and one "White."
I always wondered what would happen if I drank out of the wrong one. Being a child, I imagined that an alarm would sound and I would be arrested or something. So, of course, I never tried it or even asked. In public places, there had to be four restrooms divided by race and gender. (You can figure it out.) In smaller businesses, there were usually no restrooms for blacks at all. There was a very popular barbecue restaurant in what was called "Colored Town" called The Big Apple. Many whites ate there, but blacks were not allowed inside. They could go to a window in the back of the restaurant and order food to go. It may have been the original "Take Out" in Ft. Worth. I was never in a classroom with an African-American student until I started teaching in San Antonio in 1962. (San Antonio was integrated early and never had the racial conflicts that other southern cities had.)
This was the norm, and I accepted it. When I was in the 8th grade my parents and I moved, and I rode a city bus across town to and from school each day. The white people sat in the seats from the back door to the front. The black people had to sit from the back door to the rear. Of course, there are fewer seats back there. There was no sign or marker indicating this fact. Everyone just knew. Sometimes the seats at the back of the bus would all be taken, and black people had to stand crammed in the aisle in their section. The front of the bus might have plenty of empty seats, but no black people sat there, ever.
In 1968, I was teaching American History to 10th graders, and we were studying the Civil Rights Movement. I was telling the class about all these things I have written about here. The students seemed very involved in my lecture. When I got to the part about the buses, one young man raised his hand and said, "Mrs. Thompson, what did you do about it?"
There was a long silence on my part. I finally said, "Nothing." I went on to explain how I was just 13 years old and didn't think I could do anything about it even though it seemed unfair. That seemed like a lame excuse at the time and still does today.
Patsy
This is my mother in 1962:
And just a little later - 1969
Celebration
We went back and forth between the television and the laptop - checking results, drinking wine, fretting... and finally starting to feel very hopeful, even optimistic.
We got the children downstairs to watch McCain concede and the Barack Obama acceptance. We explained how important this was, and in some fashion why it was important. Not that we can even grasp it totally right now.
We were moved by John McCain. We were grateful for his grace. We were moved by the emotion on Jesse Jackson's face as the culmination of a lifetime of work brought tears. I don't pretend to speak for him. I couldn't possibly understand that kind of struggle. It moved us though.
Now we pray.
I pray for a safe, sobered and serious society as we anticipate January 20th.
We got the children downstairs to watch McCain concede and the Barack Obama acceptance. We explained how important this was, and in some fashion why it was important. Not that we can even grasp it totally right now.
We were moved by John McCain. We were grateful for his grace. We were moved by the emotion on Jesse Jackson's face as the culmination of a lifetime of work brought tears. I don't pretend to speak for him. I couldn't possibly understand that kind of struggle. It moved us though.
Now we pray.
I pray for a safe, sobered and serious society as we anticipate January 20th.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Cry Babies
Gonna be some unhappy people in the world over the next few days.
I know how they feel.
They should remember- those people who are certain that Obama is the wrong choice, not experienced enough, too liberal - they should remember that in THEIR judgement, George W. Bush was the right choice for America.
Sue me if I don't trust their instincts on Barack Obama.
Hello Heartbreak. I give a shout out to my contractor's carpenters who listen to hate-filled talk radio in my home and put stickers on their trucks that say NOBama. They are going to be some sad dudes. They are also Seahawks fans. They have so much to be sad about.
I've put up with their radio and their quiet anger and their stickers for months now because this realization has been building and building that something big was coming. No need to rub their noses in it. No need even to discuss it. It was coming and there was no stopping it.
I know how they feel.
They should remember- those people who are certain that Obama is the wrong choice, not experienced enough, too liberal - they should remember that in THEIR judgement, George W. Bush was the right choice for America.
Sue me if I don't trust their instincts on Barack Obama.
Hello Heartbreak. I give a shout out to my contractor's carpenters who listen to hate-filled talk radio in my home and put stickers on their trucks that say NOBama. They are going to be some sad dudes. They are also Seahawks fans. They have so much to be sad about.
I've put up with their radio and their quiet anger and their stickers for months now because this realization has been building and building that something big was coming. No need to rub their noses in it. No need even to discuss it. It was coming and there was no stopping it.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Anxiety
When you asked my brother-in-law David how he was doing sometimes he'd say, "Aw, I'm as anxious as a three-legged cat in the middle of the interstate."
That's how I felt all weekend, and it's clearly not only my premonition about the UT/Tech game... It's this election.
In 1992 I was in grad school at Ohio U and we were so excited about Bill Clinton. That Wednesday morning after the election was glorious and full of promise. I could never have predicted the turn of events after that time, but on that morning everything was perfect.
I feel that same sense of excitement this time but everything feels less pure. Is it my age? Am I cynical? Or are we less innocent now? I think it's me. And I also think it's the circumstance.
When I worked at Amy's we had a grease trap. That thing had to be cleaned every month or 2, I can't remember how often. But when Roto-rooter came with their truck and hooked up that hose, the smell was, as Emery once said about a terrible smell, The Devil. It was the worst thing I've ever smelled or seen. Sometimes you'd see a bit of whatever was being pumped out.
That's what President Obama or John McCain is going to be doing for the first year. Cleaning the grease trap. When whoever gets in gets in and opens up that trap to see what's inside, I think it's going to be smelly and foul.
That's how I felt all weekend, and it's clearly not only my premonition about the UT/Tech game... It's this election.
In 1992 I was in grad school at Ohio U and we were so excited about Bill Clinton. That Wednesday morning after the election was glorious and full of promise. I could never have predicted the turn of events after that time, but on that morning everything was perfect.
I feel that same sense of excitement this time but everything feels less pure. Is it my age? Am I cynical? Or are we less innocent now? I think it's me. And I also think it's the circumstance.
When I worked at Amy's we had a grease trap. That thing had to be cleaned every month or 2, I can't remember how often. But when Roto-rooter came with their truck and hooked up that hose, the smell was, as Emery once said about a terrible smell, The Devil. It was the worst thing I've ever smelled or seen. Sometimes you'd see a bit of whatever was being pumped out.
That's what President Obama or John McCain is going to be doing for the first year. Cleaning the grease trap. When whoever gets in gets in and opens up that trap to see what's inside, I think it's going to be smelly and foul.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Great Pumpkin & WWI Flying Ace
I recorded It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown and we watched it the other night. When it got to the part of the show where Snoopy is the ace pilot sitting atop his dog house, trying to shoot down the Red Baron, Wilbur laughed harder than either Doug or I have EVER heard him laugh. EVER. ever.
He laughed so hard he started choking. Then he laughed so hard that he started making this gutteral noise in the back of his throat. Then he laughed so hard he began to do this sort of high-pitched sighing. He laughed so hard that Emery, Doug and me almost wet our pants. It must've gone on for 10 minutes.
There is nothing like hearing a child lose control with laughter. When he watched it again, the same thing happened. And when Snoopy is downed in the French countryside and starts traveling on foot through France (no one would ever write that into a children's show anymore, sadly) he just guffawed. Oh, it was hilarious.
He laughed so hard he started choking. Then he laughed so hard that he started making this gutteral noise in the back of his throat. Then he laughed so hard he began to do this sort of high-pitched sighing. He laughed so hard that Emery, Doug and me almost wet our pants. It must've gone on for 10 minutes.
There is nothing like hearing a child lose control with laughter. When he watched it again, the same thing happened. And when Snoopy is downed in the French countryside and starts traveling on foot through France (no one would ever write that into a children's show anymore, sadly) he just guffawed. Oh, it was hilarious.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Hunny Bird
Wilbur has this little stuffed hummingbird that is teacher gave him last year. He calls it his hunny bird (sometimes it sounds like he's saying hunningbird or huntingbird). He took it with him this morning to school. He is so tender.Fractals
I saw this fascinating program on Nova about Fractals and the research being done based on their properties. I want to learn more about this. I told Leigh yesterday that when you are lousy at math, as I always was, you never get to the gorgeous stuff of math; you wallow in ugly, boring math. And that's where I lived. So, seeing something like this and understanding it, conceptually at least, is exciting.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
a Bee in my Bonnet
Yesterday I actually got a bee in my bonnet; it flew into my hair. I didn't realize it was a bee until I reached into my hair to pull out the leaf or the bug or whatever had just hit me on the head with the force of a rain drop fallin' on my head. As I tried to find this thing in my hair I felt a stinging sensation on my right ring finger and a moment after that the same sensation on my head.
Panic!
I saw two guys on the walking trail with leaf blowers on their backs and I ran up to them and yelled, "I've got a bee in my hair and I can't find it!" The leaf-blower-guy pulled his glove off and started digging through my hair. He located the bee and threw it with force toward the ground and stomped on it.
I felt bad about that since the bees have had so much trouble lately, but I was so grateful to the man that I put my hand on his shoulder and said thank you about a million times. He smiled and nodded to me. I realized that neither he nor his partner seemed to speak any English and I wondered what they had seen coming toward them, what had they understood about what was happening as I hollered and waved my hands and gestured toward my hair?
I have always relied on the kindness of strangers.
Panic!
I saw two guys on the walking trail with leaf blowers on their backs and I ran up to them and yelled, "I've got a bee in my hair and I can't find it!" The leaf-blower-guy pulled his glove off and started digging through my hair. He located the bee and threw it with force toward the ground and stomped on it.
I felt bad about that since the bees have had so much trouble lately, but I was so grateful to the man that I put my hand on his shoulder and said thank you about a million times. He smiled and nodded to me. I realized that neither he nor his partner seemed to speak any English and I wondered what they had seen coming toward them, what had they understood about what was happening as I hollered and waved my hands and gestured toward my hair?
I have always relied on the kindness of strangers.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
No Offense But...
Emery often begins a sentence with this phrase, "No offense Mom, but..." Each time I tell him that whenever he begins a sentence this way, he causes me offense.
A parent gave me some very, very good advice, which I find almost impossible to heed: Don't Take It Personally.
She said 'don't take it all so personally, all this stuff they do and the things they say and their boorish behavior.' She told me that by kid 3 of 4 she started to realize this in her own life - that when they complained or tried to act cool or said insulting things or said, "no offense but..." she just wouldn't take it personally.
When I am able to apply this principle, I am amazed at the result. But, even though I am a mother, I am clearly just a regular person as well. And when I work hard all day and then come home and really try to make a delicious and nutritious dinner using organic ingredients after purchasing these items with my re-usable bags and someone crinkles up his nose and makes a face like he is being asked to smell shit and says, "No offense Mom but this stuff STIIIIINNNNKKKKSSSS!" - call me psycho, but I take it as a personal affront.
I realize though that it's not personal. Sometimes they just say crap to say crap. Sometimes they just want to hear themselves talk. When did I decide that a 9-year-old was the arbiter of taste or a good judge of what's delicious? And it's no big deal. I know how nutritious and delicious it is, and I know he's going to eat it too. I enjoy that power. So, let it go Paige. Don't take it so personally. Remember who has got the upper hand here. And let him be.
A parent gave me some very, very good advice, which I find almost impossible to heed: Don't Take It Personally.
She said 'don't take it all so personally, all this stuff they do and the things they say and their boorish behavior.' She told me that by kid 3 of 4 she started to realize this in her own life - that when they complained or tried to act cool or said insulting things or said, "no offense but..." she just wouldn't take it personally.
When I am able to apply this principle, I am amazed at the result. But, even though I am a mother, I am clearly just a regular person as well. And when I work hard all day and then come home and really try to make a delicious and nutritious dinner using organic ingredients after purchasing these items with my re-usable bags and someone crinkles up his nose and makes a face like he is being asked to smell shit and says, "No offense Mom but this stuff STIIIIINNNNKKKKSSSS!" - call me psycho, but I take it as a personal affront.
I realize though that it's not personal. Sometimes they just say crap to say crap. Sometimes they just want to hear themselves talk. When did I decide that a 9-year-old was the arbiter of taste or a good judge of what's delicious? And it's no big deal. I know how nutritious and delicious it is, and I know he's going to eat it too. I enjoy that power. So, let it go Paige. Don't take it so personally. Remember who has got the upper hand here. And let him be.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
I Heart New Yorker
This is scathingly brilliant.
My Gal
by George Saunders September 22, 2008
Explaining how she felt when John McCain offered her the Vice-Presidential spot, my Vice-Presidential candidate, Governor Sarah Palin, said something very profound: “I answered him ‘Yes’ because I have the confidence in that readiness and knowing that you can’t blink, you have to be wired in a way of being so committed to the mission, the mission that we’re on, reform of this country and victory in the war, you can’t blink. So I didn’t blink then even when asked to run as his running mate.”
Isn’t that so true? I know that many times, in my life, while living it, someone would come up and, because of I had good readiness, in terms of how I was wired, when they asked that—whatever they asked—I would just not blink, because, knowing that, if I did blink, or even wink, that is weakness, therefore you can’t, you just don’t. You could, but no—you aren’t.
That is just how I am.
Do you know the difference between me and a Hockey Mom who has forgot her lipstick?
A dog collar.
Do you know the difference between me and a dog collar smeared with lipstick?
Not a damn thing.
We are essentially wired identical.
So, when Barack Obama says he will put some lipstick on my pig, I am, like, Are you calling me a pig? If so, thanks! Pigs are the most non-Élite of all barnyard animals. And also, if you put lipstick on my pig, do you know what the difference will be between that pig and a pit bull? I’ll tell you: a pit bull can easily kill a pig. And, as the pig dies, guess what the Hockey Mom is doing? Going to her car, putting on more lipstick, so that, upon returning, finding that pig dead, she once again looks identical to that pit bull, which, staying on mission, the two of them step over the dead pig, looking exactly like twins, except the pit bull is scratching his lower ass with one frantic leg, whereas the Hockey Mom is carrying an extra hockey stick in case Todd breaks his again. But both are going, like, Ha ha, where’s that dumb pig now? Dead, that’s who, and also: not a smidge of lipstick.
A lose-lose for the pig.
There’s a lesson in that, I think.
Who does that pig represent, and that collar, and that Hockey Mom, and that pit bull?
You figure it out. Then give me a call.
Seriously, give me a call.
Now, let us discuss the Élites. There are two kinds of folks: Élites and Regulars. Why people love Sarah Palin is, she is a Regular. That is also why they love me. She did not go to some Élite Ivy League college, which I also did not. Her and me, actually, did not go to the very same Ivy League school. Although she is younger than me, so therefore she didn’t go there slightly earlier than I didn’t go there. But, had I been younger, we possibly could have not graduated in the exact same class. That would have been fun. Sarah Palin is hot. Hot for a politician. Or someone you just see in a store. But, happily, I did not go to college at all, having not finished high school, due to I killed a man. But had I gone to college, trust me, it would not have been some Ivy League Élite-breeding factory but, rather, a community college in danger of losing its accreditation, built right on a fault zone, riddled with asbestos, and also, the crack-addicted professors are all dyslexic.
Sarah Palin was also the mayor of a very small town. To tell the truth, this is where my qualifications begin to outstrip even hers. I have never been the mayor of anything. I can’t even spell right. I had help with the above, but now— Murray, note to Murray: do not correct what follows. Lets shoe the people how I rilly spel Mooray and punshuate so thay can c how reglar I am, and ther 4 fit to leed the nashun, do to: not sum mistir fansy pans.
OK Mooray. Get corecting agin!
Thanks, Murray, you’re fabulous. Very good at what you do. Actually, Murray, come to think of it, you are so good, I suspect you are some kind of Élite. You are fired, Murray, as soon as this article is done. I’m going to hire someone Regular, who is not so excellent, and lives off the salt of the land and the fat of his brow and the sweat of his earth. Although I hope he’s not a screw-up.
I’m finding it hard to concentrate, as my eyes are killing me, due to I have not blinked since I started writing this. And, me being Regular, it takes a long time for me to write something this long.
Where was I? Ah, yes: I hate Élites. Which is why, whenever I am having brain surgery, or eye surgery, which is sometimes necessary due to all my non-blinking, I always hire some random Regular guy, with shaking hands if possible, who is also a drunk, scared of the sight of blood, and harbors a secret dislike for me.
Now, let’s talk about slogans. Ours is: Country First. Think about it. When you think of what should come first, what does? Us ourselves? No. That would be selfish. Our personal families? Selfish. God? God is good, I love Him, but, as our slogan suggests, no, sorry, God, You are not First. No, you don’t, Lord! How about: the common good of all mankind! Is that First? Don’t make me laugh with your weak blinking! No! Mercy is not First and wisdom is not First and love is super but way near the back, and ditto with patience and discernment and compassion and all that happy crap, they are all back behind Country, in the back of my S.U.V., which— Here is an example! Say I am about to run over a nun or orphan, or an orphan who grew up to become a nun—which I admire that, that is cool, good bootstrapping there, Sister—but then God or whomever goes, “It is My will that you hit that orphaned nun, do not ask Me why, don’t you dare, and I say unto thee, if you do not hit that nun, via a skillful swerve, your Country is going to suffer, and don’t ask Me how, specifically, as I have not decided that yet!” Well, I am going to do my best to get that nun in one felt swope, because, at the Convention, at which my Vice-Presidential candidate kicked mucho butt, what did the signs there say? Did they say “Orphaned Nuns First” and then there is a picture of a sad little nun with a hobo pack?
My Gal
by George Saunders September 22, 2008
Explaining how she felt when John McCain offered her the Vice-Presidential spot, my Vice-Presidential candidate, Governor Sarah Palin, said something very profound: “I answered him ‘Yes’ because I have the confidence in that readiness and knowing that you can’t blink, you have to be wired in a way of being so committed to the mission, the mission that we’re on, reform of this country and victory in the war, you can’t blink. So I didn’t blink then even when asked to run as his running mate.”
Isn’t that so true? I know that many times, in my life, while living it, someone would come up and, because of I had good readiness, in terms of how I was wired, when they asked that—whatever they asked—I would just not blink, because, knowing that, if I did blink, or even wink, that is weakness, therefore you can’t, you just don’t. You could, but no—you aren’t.
That is just how I am.
Do you know the difference between me and a Hockey Mom who has forgot her lipstick?
A dog collar.
Do you know the difference between me and a dog collar smeared with lipstick?
Not a damn thing.
We are essentially wired identical.
So, when Barack Obama says he will put some lipstick on my pig, I am, like, Are you calling me a pig? If so, thanks! Pigs are the most non-Élite of all barnyard animals. And also, if you put lipstick on my pig, do you know what the difference will be between that pig and a pit bull? I’ll tell you: a pit bull can easily kill a pig. And, as the pig dies, guess what the Hockey Mom is doing? Going to her car, putting on more lipstick, so that, upon returning, finding that pig dead, she once again looks identical to that pit bull, which, staying on mission, the two of them step over the dead pig, looking exactly like twins, except the pit bull is scratching his lower ass with one frantic leg, whereas the Hockey Mom is carrying an extra hockey stick in case Todd breaks his again. But both are going, like, Ha ha, where’s that dumb pig now? Dead, that’s who, and also: not a smidge of lipstick.
A lose-lose for the pig.
There’s a lesson in that, I think.
Who does that pig represent, and that collar, and that Hockey Mom, and that pit bull?
You figure it out. Then give me a call.
Seriously, give me a call.
Now, let us discuss the Élites. There are two kinds of folks: Élites and Regulars. Why people love Sarah Palin is, she is a Regular. That is also why they love me. She did not go to some Élite Ivy League college, which I also did not. Her and me, actually, did not go to the very same Ivy League school. Although she is younger than me, so therefore she didn’t go there slightly earlier than I didn’t go there. But, had I been younger, we possibly could have not graduated in the exact same class. That would have been fun. Sarah Palin is hot. Hot for a politician. Or someone you just see in a store. But, happily, I did not go to college at all, having not finished high school, due to I killed a man. But had I gone to college, trust me, it would not have been some Ivy League Élite-breeding factory but, rather, a community college in danger of losing its accreditation, built right on a fault zone, riddled with asbestos, and also, the crack-addicted professors are all dyslexic.
Sarah Palin was also the mayor of a very small town. To tell the truth, this is where my qualifications begin to outstrip even hers. I have never been the mayor of anything. I can’t even spell right. I had help with the above, but now— Murray, note to Murray: do not correct what follows. Lets shoe the people how I rilly spel Mooray and punshuate so thay can c how reglar I am, and ther 4 fit to leed the nashun, do to: not sum mistir fansy pans.
OK Mooray. Get corecting agin!
Thanks, Murray, you’re fabulous. Very good at what you do. Actually, Murray, come to think of it, you are so good, I suspect you are some kind of Élite. You are fired, Murray, as soon as this article is done. I’m going to hire someone Regular, who is not so excellent, and lives off the salt of the land and the fat of his brow and the sweat of his earth. Although I hope he’s not a screw-up.
I’m finding it hard to concentrate, as my eyes are killing me, due to I have not blinked since I started writing this. And, me being Regular, it takes a long time for me to write something this long.
Where was I? Ah, yes: I hate Élites. Which is why, whenever I am having brain surgery, or eye surgery, which is sometimes necessary due to all my non-blinking, I always hire some random Regular guy, with shaking hands if possible, who is also a drunk, scared of the sight of blood, and harbors a secret dislike for me.
Now, let’s talk about slogans. Ours is: Country First. Think about it. When you think of what should come first, what does? Us ourselves? No. That would be selfish. Our personal families? Selfish. God? God is good, I love Him, but, as our slogan suggests, no, sorry, God, You are not First. No, you don’t, Lord! How about: the common good of all mankind! Is that First? Don’t make me laugh with your weak blinking! No! Mercy is not First and wisdom is not First and love is super but way near the back, and ditto with patience and discernment and compassion and all that happy crap, they are all back behind Country, in the back of my S.U.V., which— Here is an example! Say I am about to run over a nun or orphan, or an orphan who grew up to become a nun—which I admire that, that is cool, good bootstrapping there, Sister—but then God or whomever goes, “It is My will that you hit that orphaned nun, do not ask Me why, don’t you dare, and I say unto thee, if you do not hit that nun, via a skillful swerve, your Country is going to suffer, and don’t ask Me how, specifically, as I have not decided that yet!” Well, I am going to do my best to get that nun in one felt swope, because, at the Convention, at which my Vice-Presidential candidate kicked mucho butt, what did the signs there say? Did they say “Orphaned Nuns First” and then there is a picture of a sad little nun with a hobo pack?
Thursday, October 23, 2008
How Deep is Your Love
I was listening to How Deep is Your Love today and I had a memory of my first dance. The boy was Van Wisdom, it was 6th grade (Dwight D. Eisenhower Middle School in San Antonio) and the song was How Deep Is Your Love...
I remember a bunch of girls running up to me and saying, "Van's looking for you! Van's looking for you! He's going to ask you to dance!"
Now, in those days Van Wisdom was hot stuff and a little out of my league. I didn't even know he knew who I was.
It turns out there was a reason he was drawn to me... It turns out, I found out years later, that he was gay. In fact, even more years later, he died of AIDS. His daddy is a baptist preacher and he, Charles Wisdom, wrote a book about his son. It's a book espoused by Exodus International, a nonprofit, interdenominational Christian organization that promotes "the message of Freedom from homosexuality through the power of Jesus Christ."
But, I had totally forgotten about my first dance, and to this song. The song held a special place in my memory but I wasn't really sure why.
I remember a bunch of girls running up to me and saying, "Van's looking for you! Van's looking for you! He's going to ask you to dance!"
Now, in those days Van Wisdom was hot stuff and a little out of my league. I didn't even know he knew who I was.
It turns out there was a reason he was drawn to me... It turns out, I found out years later, that he was gay. In fact, even more years later, he died of AIDS. His daddy is a baptist preacher and he, Charles Wisdom, wrote a book about his son. It's a book espoused by Exodus International, a nonprofit, interdenominational Christian organization that promotes "the message of Freedom from homosexuality through the power of Jesus Christ."
But, I had totally forgotten about my first dance, and to this song. The song held a special place in my memory but I wasn't really sure why.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Republican Rep. Michele I'm-a-FOOL Bachmann
I'm sorry, this is just pathetic:
Bachmann said Tuesday she probably should have watched "Hardball" to see what it was like before she went on it.
What is it with this rash of stupid, silly, bubble-headed, inane, I-want-to-use-the-C-word, irrelevant, ill-informed, obtuse, fatuous, half-wit women? Do you only need a nice pair of legs and some sort of hair-do to be a woman in politics? Where are the women like me? She makes fools of us all.
This FOOL, IDIOT of a woman goes on Hardball and talks about how she doesn't like Obama because she doesn't think Socialism is good for America, she calls him anti-american and she says we ought to find others with anti-american views and do something about them. There are so many inanities that one doesn't know where to begin!
1. Barack Obama isn't advocating socialism, Henry Paulson is doing that.
2. Ferreting out anti-Americans isn't socialist behavior; it's fascist.
3. Going on any program, I don't care if it's Captain Billy's Whizbag, without watching the program is the mark of a fool and certainly someone too stupid to hold public office.
4. Even if she hadn't researched the program on which she was appearing, how did that entice her to say what she did?
I am tired of stupid people trying to get paid with taxpayer money to do a job for which they would never be hired, but feel perfectly comfortable getting elected to do. This woman is a scourge and should be skewered.
Bachmann said Tuesday she probably should have watched "Hardball" to see what it was like before she went on it.
What is it with this rash of stupid, silly, bubble-headed, inane, I-want-to-use-the-C-word, irrelevant, ill-informed, obtuse, fatuous, half-wit women? Do you only need a nice pair of legs and some sort of hair-do to be a woman in politics? Where are the women like me? She makes fools of us all.
This FOOL, IDIOT of a woman goes on Hardball and talks about how she doesn't like Obama because she doesn't think Socialism is good for America, she calls him anti-american and she says we ought to find others with anti-american views and do something about them. There are so many inanities that one doesn't know where to begin!
1. Barack Obama isn't advocating socialism, Henry Paulson is doing that.
2. Ferreting out anti-Americans isn't socialist behavior; it's fascist.
3. Going on any program, I don't care if it's Captain Billy's Whizbag, without watching the program is the mark of a fool and certainly someone too stupid to hold public office.
4. Even if she hadn't researched the program on which she was appearing, how did that entice her to say what she did?
I am tired of stupid people trying to get paid with taxpayer money to do a job for which they would never be hired, but feel perfectly comfortable getting elected to do. This woman is a scourge and should be skewered.
No Bad Dogs!
As I think about wanting no more bad news today, I am reminded of Barbara Woodhouse, a dog trainer who used to be on television quite often when I was growing up. She wrote a book called, No Bad Dogs:
Barbara Woodhouse, "the lady with the dogs," is already familiar to millions of Americans through the publication of her best-selling book, No Bad Dogs, her frequent appearances on such national television shows as "60 Minutes," "The Tonight show," "Donahue," "Merv Griffin," "Good Morning America," and the syndication of her enormously popular television series, "Training Dogs the Woodhouse Way."
In this irresistible book, Barbara Woodhouse passes on to the reader the simple, effective techniques as well as the infectious, positive attitude...
I feel this way about bad news: No Bad News! I am so tired of bad news all day that I'll have none of it today.
I have good news today. Good news, good news, good news, good news, good news!
It makes me think of an old spiritual - Ain't That Good News?
I got a robe in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I got a robe in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I'm gonna lay down this world
I'm gonna shoulder up my cross
I'm gonna carry it home to my Jesus -
ain't that good news, my Lord, ain't that good news?
I got shoes in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I got shoes in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I'm gonna lay down this world
I'm gonna shoulder up my cross
I'm gonna carry it home to my Jesus -
ain't that good news, my Lord, ain't that good news?
I got a crown in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I got a crown in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I'm gonna lay down this world
I'm gonna shoulder up my cross
I'm gonna carry it home to my Jesus -
ain't that good news, my Lord, ain't that good news?
Barbara Woodhouse, "the lady with the dogs," is already familiar to millions of Americans through the publication of her best-selling book, No Bad Dogs, her frequent appearances on such national television shows as "60 Minutes," "The Tonight show," "Donahue," "Merv Griffin," "Good Morning America," and the syndication of her enormously popular television series, "Training Dogs the Woodhouse Way."
In this irresistible book, Barbara Woodhouse passes on to the reader the simple, effective techniques as well as the infectious, positive attitude...
I feel this way about bad news: No Bad News! I am so tired of bad news all day that I'll have none of it today.
I have good news today. Good news, good news, good news, good news, good news!
It makes me think of an old spiritual - Ain't That Good News?
I got a robe in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I got a robe in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I'm gonna lay down this world
I'm gonna shoulder up my cross
I'm gonna carry it home to my Jesus -
ain't that good news, my Lord, ain't that good news?
I got shoes in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I got shoes in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I'm gonna lay down this world
I'm gonna shoulder up my cross
I'm gonna carry it home to my Jesus -
ain't that good news, my Lord, ain't that good news?
I got a crown in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I got a crown in that kingdom - ain't that good news?
I'm gonna lay down this world
I'm gonna shoulder up my cross
I'm gonna carry it home to my Jesus -
ain't that good news, my Lord, ain't that good news?
Pickles and Johnsons
We watched a PBS documentary last night on LBJ which was, of course, fascinating. Making Lyndon interesting is about as easy as falling off a log. Jake Pickle was one of the sources and it was fun to see him given that I knew him through his grandson Bennett.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Genghis Khan Halloween Costume
Emery has wanted to be Genghis Khan for Halloween for the past 2 or 3 years and I just can't ever get it together. Some of his costumes:
Poseidon
St. Francis of Assisi
Captain Hook
The Cat in the Hat
A Cowboy
Today I enlisted D to help, as I think he has more design talent than I do (although the Poseidon costume I did for Emery was pretty amazing)... We have to decide historically if we are going for a young Genghis or an older, statesman Genghis.
Wilbur is Darth Vader and I just bought that costume no problem. he looks so cute in it too - he's all blond and blue-eyed and gorgeous in that jet black costume.
Poseidon
St. Francis of Assisi
Captain Hook
The Cat in the Hat
A Cowboy
Today I enlisted D to help, as I think he has more design talent than I do (although the Poseidon costume I did for Emery was pretty amazing)... We have to decide historically if we are going for a young Genghis or an older, statesman Genghis.
Wilbur is Darth Vader and I just bought that costume no problem. he looks so cute in it too - he's all blond and blue-eyed and gorgeous in that jet black costume.
Render unto Caesar...
So the lectionary on Sunday was this story from Matthew, where Jesus answers the religious leaders by looking at a coin and saying, "give to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's."
It's curious to me that so many Christians on the far right are so concerned with money in a way that seems unlike Jesus even a little bit. John McCain has rallied his troops with phrases like 'spreading the wealth around' as if any clear-eyed, right-thinking person would find that concept anathema.
But, isn't that what's fair? Isn't that what Jesus would do? And if we belong to God, if God wants us to give HIM what is HIS, isn't that our minds, souls and hearts?
I don't get to choose that my tax money, from this pacifist who doesn't believe in war, I don't get to choose where it goes. And I am patriotic enough to accept that I live in this country, this community; not everyone thinks as I do - not everyone is a pacifist... And so, we pay our tax and some of that money (a great deal of it) supports ideologies and actions that I find reprehensible. But I am an American. I am part of that community. And I pay into the greater. The thing that is great about America is that we all support the whole and the whole is utterly diverse - in culture, opinion, priority - and that diversity is our strength.
So, pay attention, all you closed-minded, right-sided fundamentalist Sadducees: Give it up! Pay to the government that which is the Government's. Be about the business of belonging to God, if that's your thing. Pay what you owe and participate in this community of divergent ideas. Don't worry about that money - if it's due then pay it. Get busy with more important matters, like loving God with all your heart, mind and soul and then love your neighbor as yourself.
It's curious to me that so many Christians on the far right are so concerned with money in a way that seems unlike Jesus even a little bit. John McCain has rallied his troops with phrases like 'spreading the wealth around' as if any clear-eyed, right-thinking person would find that concept anathema.
But, isn't that what's fair? Isn't that what Jesus would do? And if we belong to God, if God wants us to give HIM what is HIS, isn't that our minds, souls and hearts?
I don't get to choose that my tax money, from this pacifist who doesn't believe in war, I don't get to choose where it goes. And I am patriotic enough to accept that I live in this country, this community; not everyone thinks as I do - not everyone is a pacifist... And so, we pay our tax and some of that money (a great deal of it) supports ideologies and actions that I find reprehensible. But I am an American. I am part of that community. And I pay into the greater. The thing that is great about America is that we all support the whole and the whole is utterly diverse - in culture, opinion, priority - and that diversity is our strength.
So, pay attention, all you closed-minded, right-sided fundamentalist Sadducees: Give it up! Pay to the government that which is the Government's. Be about the business of belonging to God, if that's your thing. Pay what you owe and participate in this community of divergent ideas. Don't worry about that money - if it's due then pay it. Get busy with more important matters, like loving God with all your heart, mind and soul and then love your neighbor as yourself.
Friday, October 17, 2008
When I hear Plumber I think of Nixon. I think, CREEP
Remember The Plumbers? Nixon's Plumbers? Am I the only one who called up this reference and thought, "hmmm... when I hear Plumber I think Break-in." I think G. Gordon Liddy and E. Howard Hunt. I am not that old, but I've seen All The President's Men. I've read John Dean's book, Blind Ambition. Don't we all remember those guys?
From wikipedia:
The White House Plumbers or simply the Plumbers is the popular name given to the covert White House Special Investigations Unit established July 24, 1971 during the presidency of Richard Nixon. Its job was to stop the leaking (hence "plumbers") of classified information to the news media during the Nixon administration. Its members branched into more nefarious projects working for the Committee to Re-elect the President (CRP, or CREEP), including the Watergate break-ins and the ensuing Watergate scandal.
This poor guy Joe. He just wanted to ask a question. Now the media is combing through his statements and vetting him as if he were the McCain running mate. The guy hasn't always paid all of his taxes, isn't actually a licensed plumber and doesn't make any where near 250K. Tax analysts are even claiming that the guy would get a tax break under the Obama plan when and if he buys the business and is licensed and plumbing.
This guy probably wished John McCain had never brought up his name. Now he's in the NY Times (http://thecaucus.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/10/16/joe-in-the-spotlight/?hp) and he sort of looks like a liar. Now the IRS is going to come after him for the back taxes he owes and people are making money off him selling t-shirts and coffee mugs.
Just remember: Plumbers Bad.
From wikipedia:
The White House Plumbers or simply the Plumbers is the popular name given to the covert White House Special Investigations Unit established July 24, 1971 during the presidency of Richard Nixon. Its job was to stop the leaking (hence "plumbers") of classified information to the news media during the Nixon administration. Its members branched into more nefarious projects working for the Committee to Re-elect the President (CRP, or CREEP), including the Watergate break-ins and the ensuing Watergate scandal.
This poor guy Joe. He just wanted to ask a question. Now the media is combing through his statements and vetting him as if he were the McCain running mate. The guy hasn't always paid all of his taxes, isn't actually a licensed plumber and doesn't make any where near 250K. Tax analysts are even claiming that the guy would get a tax break under the Obama plan when and if he buys the business and is licensed and plumbing.
This guy probably wished John McCain had never brought up his name. Now he's in the NY Times (http://thecaucus.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/10/16/joe-in-the-spotlight/?hp) and he sort of looks like a liar. Now the IRS is going to come after him for the back taxes he owes and people are making money off him selling t-shirts and coffee mugs.
Just remember: Plumbers Bad.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Living the Questions
I started a progressive Christian group study last night, the curriculum of which is called "Living the Questions." It's discussion and a DVD presentation. Some of the church leaders in the DVD are people I have admired for some time and others are new to me. Yvette Flunder, John Shelby Spong, Mel White and many others.
I love Spong - and I loved what he said in the piece we saw last night. He said that the times in the church's history when we were most certain were the times when we were acting most heinously - burning people at the stake, starting holy wars.
There is a discomfort with being in the mystery and living with uncertainty. Not knowing for certain what happens when we die is frightening. Not knowing if you are right is disconcerting. But I find if I am willing to challenge boldly-held notions, I come back to my core beliefs with conviction and clarity.
I kept thinking last night about the pastor in A Prayer for Owen Meany who is so full of doubt...
I love Spong - and I loved what he said in the piece we saw last night. He said that the times in the church's history when we were most certain were the times when we were acting most heinously - burning people at the stake, starting holy wars.
There is a discomfort with being in the mystery and living with uncertainty. Not knowing for certain what happens when we die is frightening. Not knowing if you are right is disconcerting. But I find if I am willing to challenge boldly-held notions, I come back to my core beliefs with conviction and clarity.
I kept thinking last night about the pastor in A Prayer for Owen Meany who is so full of doubt...
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Friend of Bill
This is an interesting article about Bill Ayers in The Wallstreet Journal:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122402888900234543.html
"Waving the bloody shirt" was the phrase once used to describe the standard demagogic tactic of the late 19th century, when memories of the Civil War were still vivid and loyalists of both parties could be moved to "vote as they shot." As the years passed and the memories faded, the shirt got gorier, the waving more frantic.
In 1896 the Democrats chose William Jennings Bryan as their leader, a man who was born in 1860 and had thus missed the Civil War, but who seemed to threaten the consensus politics of the time. In response, Republican campaign masterminds organized a speaking tour of the Midwest by a handful of surviving Union generals. The veterans advanced through the battleground states in a special train adorned with patriotic bunting, pictures of their candidate, William McKinley, and a sign declaring, "We are Opposed to Anarchy and Repudiation."
The culture wars are the familiar demagogic tactic of our own time, building monstrous offenses out of the tiniest slights. The fading rancor that each grievance is meant to revive, of course, dates to the 1960s and the antiwar protests, urban riots and annoying youth culture that originally triggered our great turn to the right.
This year the Democrats chose Barack Obama as their leader, a man who was born in 1961 and who largely missed our cultural civil war. In response, Republican campaign masterminds have sought to plunge him back into it in the most desperate and grotesque manner yet.
For days on end, the Republican presidential campaign has put nearly all of its remaining political capital on emphasizing Mr. Obama's time on various foundation boards with Bill Ayers, a former member of the Weathermen, which planted bombs and issued preposterous statements in the Vietnam era. Some on the right seem to believe Mr. Ayers is Mr. Obama's puppet-master, while others are content merely to insist that the association proves Mr. Obama to be soft on terrorism. Maybe he's soft on anarchy and repudiation, too.
I can personally attest to the idiocy of it all because I am a friend of Mr. Ayers. In fact, I met him in the same way Mr. Obama says he did: 10 years ago, Mr. Ayers was a guy in my neighborhood in Chicago who knew something about fundraising. I knew nothing about it, I needed to learn, and a friend referred me to Bill.
Bill's got lots of friends, and that's because he is today a dedicated servant of those less fortunate than himself; because he is unfailingly generous to people who ask for his help; and because he is kind and affable and even humble. Moral qualities which, by the way, were celebrated boisterously on day one of the GOP convention in September.
Mr. Ayers is a professor of education at the University of Illinois at Chicago (UIC), where his work is esteemed by colleagues of different political viewpoints. Herbert Walberg, an advocate of school vouchers who is a visiting fellow at the Hoover Institution, told me he remembers Mr. Ayers as "a responsible colleague, in the professional sense of the word." Bill Schubert, who served as the chairman of UIC's Department of Curriculum and Instruction for many years, thinks so highly of Mr. Ayers that, in response to the current allegations, he compiled a lengthy résumé of the man's books, journal articles, guest lectures and keynote speeches. Mr. Ayers has been involved with countless foundation efforts and has received various awards. He volunteers for everything. He may once have been wanted by the FBI, but in the intervening years the man has become such a good citizen he ought to be an honorary Eagle Scout.
I do not defend the things Mr. Ayers did in his Weatherman days. Nor will I quibble with those who find Mr. Ayers wanting in contrition. His 2001 memoir is shot through with regret, but it lacks the abject style our culture prefers.
Instead I want to note that, in its haste to convict a man merely for associating with Mr. Ayers, the GOP is effectively proposing to make the upcoming election into the largest mass trial in history, with all those professors and all those do-gooders on the hook for someone else's deeds four decades ago. Also in the dock: the demonic city (Chicago) that once named Mr. Ayers its "Citizen of the Year." Fire up Hurricane Katrina and point it toward Lake Michigan!
The McCain campaign has made much of its leader's honor and bravery, but now it has chosen to mount its greatest attack against a man who poses no conceivable threat to the country, who has nothing to do with this year's issues, and who cannot or will not defend himself. Apparently this makes him an irresistible target.
There are a lot of things to call this tactic, but "country first" isn't one of them. The nation wants its hope and confidence restored, and Republican leaders have chosen instead to wave the bloody shirt. This is their vilest hour.
Write to thomas@wsj.com
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122402888900234543.html
"Waving the bloody shirt" was the phrase once used to describe the standard demagogic tactic of the late 19th century, when memories of the Civil War were still vivid and loyalists of both parties could be moved to "vote as they shot." As the years passed and the memories faded, the shirt got gorier, the waving more frantic.
In 1896 the Democrats chose William Jennings Bryan as their leader, a man who was born in 1860 and had thus missed the Civil War, but who seemed to threaten the consensus politics of the time. In response, Republican campaign masterminds organized a speaking tour of the Midwest by a handful of surviving Union generals. The veterans advanced through the battleground states in a special train adorned with patriotic bunting, pictures of their candidate, William McKinley, and a sign declaring, "We are Opposed to Anarchy and Repudiation."
The culture wars are the familiar demagogic tactic of our own time, building monstrous offenses out of the tiniest slights. The fading rancor that each grievance is meant to revive, of course, dates to the 1960s and the antiwar protests, urban riots and annoying youth culture that originally triggered our great turn to the right.
This year the Democrats chose Barack Obama as their leader, a man who was born in 1961 and who largely missed our cultural civil war. In response, Republican campaign masterminds have sought to plunge him back into it in the most desperate and grotesque manner yet.
For days on end, the Republican presidential campaign has put nearly all of its remaining political capital on emphasizing Mr. Obama's time on various foundation boards with Bill Ayers, a former member of the Weathermen, which planted bombs and issued preposterous statements in the Vietnam era. Some on the right seem to believe Mr. Ayers is Mr. Obama's puppet-master, while others are content merely to insist that the association proves Mr. Obama to be soft on terrorism. Maybe he's soft on anarchy and repudiation, too.
I can personally attest to the idiocy of it all because I am a friend of Mr. Ayers. In fact, I met him in the same way Mr. Obama says he did: 10 years ago, Mr. Ayers was a guy in my neighborhood in Chicago who knew something about fundraising. I knew nothing about it, I needed to learn, and a friend referred me to Bill.
Bill's got lots of friends, and that's because he is today a dedicated servant of those less fortunate than himself; because he is unfailingly generous to people who ask for his help; and because he is kind and affable and even humble. Moral qualities which, by the way, were celebrated boisterously on day one of the GOP convention in September.
Mr. Ayers is a professor of education at the University of Illinois at Chicago (UIC), where his work is esteemed by colleagues of different political viewpoints. Herbert Walberg, an advocate of school vouchers who is a visiting fellow at the Hoover Institution, told me he remembers Mr. Ayers as "a responsible colleague, in the professional sense of the word." Bill Schubert, who served as the chairman of UIC's Department of Curriculum and Instruction for many years, thinks so highly of Mr. Ayers that, in response to the current allegations, he compiled a lengthy résumé of the man's books, journal articles, guest lectures and keynote speeches. Mr. Ayers has been involved with countless foundation efforts and has received various awards. He volunteers for everything. He may once have been wanted by the FBI, but in the intervening years the man has become such a good citizen he ought to be an honorary Eagle Scout.
I do not defend the things Mr. Ayers did in his Weatherman days. Nor will I quibble with those who find Mr. Ayers wanting in contrition. His 2001 memoir is shot through with regret, but it lacks the abject style our culture prefers.
Instead I want to note that, in its haste to convict a man merely for associating with Mr. Ayers, the GOP is effectively proposing to make the upcoming election into the largest mass trial in history, with all those professors and all those do-gooders on the hook for someone else's deeds four decades ago. Also in the dock: the demonic city (Chicago) that once named Mr. Ayers its "Citizen of the Year." Fire up Hurricane Katrina and point it toward Lake Michigan!
The McCain campaign has made much of its leader's honor and bravery, but now it has chosen to mount its greatest attack against a man who poses no conceivable threat to the country, who has nothing to do with this year's issues, and who cannot or will not defend himself. Apparently this makes him an irresistible target.
There are a lot of things to call this tactic, but "country first" isn't one of them. The nation wants its hope and confidence restored, and Republican leaders have chosen instead to wave the bloody shirt. This is their vilest hour.
Write to thomas@wsj.com
Monday, October 13, 2008
They are open weekdays, closed on weekends...
Roger & Me is one of my favorite documentaries of all time - that and Gates of Heaven...
I love the guy in Roger & Me who is describing to Michael Moore how often the plasma donation center is open:
"They're only open on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Saturday and Sunday, they're closed. "
Gates of Heaven is a documentary about a pet cemetery. One of my favorite parts is this woman talking and she just meanders through - you couldn't write this... it's brilliant...
"I'm raised on a farm, we had chickens and pigs and cows and sheep and everything. But down here I've been lost. Now they've taken them all away from here up to that - What's the name of that place? Up above here a little ways? That town? Commences with a 'B.' Blue. It's - Blue Hill Cemetery, I think the name of it is. Not too far, I guess, about maybe twenty miles from here. A little town there, a little place. You know where it's at. But I was really surprised when I heard they were getting rid of the cemetery over here. Gonna put in buildings or something over there. Ah well, I know people been very good to me, you know. Well, they see my condition, I guess, must of felt sorry for me. But it's real, my condition is. It's not put on. That's for sure! Boy, if I could only walk. If I could only get out. Drive my car. I'd get another car. Ya... and my son, if he was only better to me. After I bought him that car. He's got a nice car. I bought it myself just a short time ago. I don't know. These kids - the more you do for them... He' s my grandson, but I raised him from two years old... I don't see him very often. And he just got the car. I didn't pay for all of it. I gave him four hundred dollars. Pretty good! His boss knows it. Well, he's not working for that outfit now. He's changed. He's gone back on his old job - hauling sand. No, not hauling sand; he's working in the office. That's right. He took over the office job. His boss told me that on the phone. But, you know, he should help me more. He's all I got. He's the one who brought me up here. And then put me here by myself among strangers. It's terrible, you stop and think of it. I've been without so much, when I first come up here. Ya. It's what half of my trouble is from - him not being home with me. Didn't cost him nothing to stay here. Every time he need money, he'd always come, 'Mom, can I have this? Can I have that?' But he never pays back. Too good, too easy - that's what everybody tells me. I quit now. I quit. Now he's got the office job, I'm going after him. I'm going after him good, too - if I have to go in... in a different way. He's going to pay that money. He's got the office job now. And he makes good money anyway. And he has no kids. He has not married. Never get married, he says. He was married once - they're divorced. Well, she tried to take him for the kid, but she didn't. They went to court. It was somebody else's kid. She was nothing but a tramp in the first place. I told him that. He wouldn't listen to me. I says, 'I know what she is.' I said, 'Richard, please, listen to me.' He wouldn't listen. He knew all, he knew everything. Big shot! But he soon found out. Now that's all over with. I've been through so much I don't know how I'm staying alive. Really, for my age... if you're young, it's different. But I've always said I'm never going to grow old. I've always had that, and the people that I tell how old I am, they don't believe me, because people my age as a rule don't get around like I do."
http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Gates_of_Heaven
For some reason, the hours of this store, Caramel, that Ken blogged about reminded me of the Roger & Me quote (which led me to the Gates of Heaven memory - the two have nothing to do with one another):
store hours
Monday 4-8 PM
Thursday 12-9 PM
Friday 12-9 PM
Saturday 11 AM -7 PM
Sunday 12-6 PM
Tuesday and Wednesday by appointment.
Does it really have to be that complicated? I think if I owned the store I wouldn't be able to remember what time to show up and open the doors each day.
I love the guy in Roger & Me who is describing to Michael Moore how often the plasma donation center is open:
"They're only open on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Saturday and Sunday, they're closed. "
Gates of Heaven is a documentary about a pet cemetery. One of my favorite parts is this woman talking and she just meanders through - you couldn't write this... it's brilliant...
"I'm raised on a farm, we had chickens and pigs and cows and sheep and everything. But down here I've been lost. Now they've taken them all away from here up to that - What's the name of that place? Up above here a little ways? That town? Commences with a 'B.' Blue. It's - Blue Hill Cemetery, I think the name of it is. Not too far, I guess, about maybe twenty miles from here. A little town there, a little place. You know where it's at. But I was really surprised when I heard they were getting rid of the cemetery over here. Gonna put in buildings or something over there. Ah well, I know people been very good to me, you know. Well, they see my condition, I guess, must of felt sorry for me. But it's real, my condition is. It's not put on. That's for sure! Boy, if I could only walk. If I could only get out. Drive my car. I'd get another car. Ya... and my son, if he was only better to me. After I bought him that car. He's got a nice car. I bought it myself just a short time ago. I don't know. These kids - the more you do for them... He' s my grandson, but I raised him from two years old... I don't see him very often. And he just got the car. I didn't pay for all of it. I gave him four hundred dollars. Pretty good! His boss knows it. Well, he's not working for that outfit now. He's changed. He's gone back on his old job - hauling sand. No, not hauling sand; he's working in the office. That's right. He took over the office job. His boss told me that on the phone. But, you know, he should help me more. He's all I got. He's the one who brought me up here. And then put me here by myself among strangers. It's terrible, you stop and think of it. I've been without so much, when I first come up here. Ya. It's what half of my trouble is from - him not being home with me. Didn't cost him nothing to stay here. Every time he need money, he'd always come, 'Mom, can I have this? Can I have that?' But he never pays back. Too good, too easy - that's what everybody tells me. I quit now. I quit. Now he's got the office job, I'm going after him. I'm going after him good, too - if I have to go in... in a different way. He's going to pay that money. He's got the office job now. And he makes good money anyway. And he has no kids. He has not married. Never get married, he says. He was married once - they're divorced. Well, she tried to take him for the kid, but she didn't. They went to court. It was somebody else's kid. She was nothing but a tramp in the first place. I told him that. He wouldn't listen to me. I says, 'I know what she is.' I said, 'Richard, please, listen to me.' He wouldn't listen. He knew all, he knew everything. Big shot! But he soon found out. Now that's all over with. I've been through so much I don't know how I'm staying alive. Really, for my age... if you're young, it's different. But I've always said I'm never going to grow old. I've always had that, and the people that I tell how old I am, they don't believe me, because people my age as a rule don't get around like I do."
http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Gates_of_Heaven
For some reason, the hours of this store, Caramel, that Ken blogged about reminded me of the Roger & Me quote (which led me to the Gates of Heaven memory - the two have nothing to do with one another):
store hours
Monday 4-8 PM
Thursday 12-9 PM
Friday 12-9 PM
Saturday 11 AM -7 PM
Sunday 12-6 PM
Tuesday and Wednesday by appointment.
Does it really have to be that complicated? I think if I owned the store I wouldn't be able to remember what time to show up and open the doors each day.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Got a Cat and Skinned Her: Janie & Lisa
Mike and I used to change the lyrics to Earth, Wind & Fire's song September and the phrases we used most were:
Got a cat and skinned her
My best friend's Lucinda-er
Had a Waring Blender
Friends Lisa and Janie gave us a Waring Blender for a wedding present at the kitchen shower they hosted for us in NYC. And I often think of sending them thank you notes randomly, because I use the blender every day. I use it every day and I think of them each and every time I use it. For one thing, it is SUCH a good blender - it crushes ice for margaritas or smoothies - it can handle any job. It was such a nice gift - and I remember thinking at the time that I couldn't believe they would spend so much money! I was so grateful. And it's as sleek and fashionable today as it was in 1997 (those girls have good taste). The shower and party (Doug and I were both there) were so elegant - up to that time, I don't think anyone had ever done anything like that for me. At a time when we really didn't have much, Lisa and Janie did a lot for us.
Lisa went on to host a baby shower for us. Both of these girls were not just at my wedding but in it. Janie's husband David chose and read a beautiful poem (that I have hanging on a wall above my desk)... They have done a lot for me. Much too much.
People would say, that's what friends do. But I don't know if I would - I mean I try to be as good a friend as my friends are to me, but I don't think I ever really make it. I am always astonished and overwhelmed by how dear my friends are - how good they are to me. I don't deserve it.
Commercial Paper and Credit Default Swaps
This American Life (http://www.thislife.org/) has done it again with show 365: Another Frightening Show About the Economy
Alex Blumberg and NPR's Adam Davidson—the two guys who reported our Giant Pool of Money episode—are back, in collaboration with the Planet Money podcast. They'll explain what happened this week, including what regulators could've done to prevent this financial crisis from happening in the first place. You can learn more about the daily ins and outs and join the discussion on the Planet Money blog.
Prologue.
Host Ira Glass goes to Union Square, a 15-minute subway ride from Wall Street, where it doesn't look like we're on the edge of an economic abyss. (3 minutes)
Act One. The Day the Market Died.
Alex Blumberg and Adam Davidson recount the 36-hour period, two weeks ago, when the credit markets froze. Plus, what it’s like now for businesses to get short-term loans, and how the hardship is spreading to every sector of the economy. (16 minutes)
Act Two. Out of the Hedges and Into the Woods.
One more confusing financial product that’s bringing down the global economy. And one of way to think about this product is this: If bad mortgages got the financial system sick, this next thing you’re about to hear about, helped spread the sickness into an epidemic. These are "credit default swaps." Alex explains. (19 minutes)
Act Three. Swap Cops.
Ira talks with Michael Greenberger, a former commodities regulator, who tells the story of when it was decided not to regulate credit default swaps. And how that decision was emblematic of the way we didn’t regulate a lot of the toxic financial products we’re hearing about now. (8 minutes)Song: "Bankrupt on Selling," Modest Mouse
Act Four. What's Next?
Ira and Adam answer the question: Was the $700 billion bailout bill signed into law today a good idea or a bad one? (10 minutes)
Alex Blumberg and NPR's Adam Davidson—the two guys who reported our Giant Pool of Money episode—are back, in collaboration with the Planet Money podcast. They'll explain what happened this week, including what regulators could've done to prevent this financial crisis from happening in the first place. You can learn more about the daily ins and outs and join the discussion on the Planet Money blog.
Prologue.
Host Ira Glass goes to Union Square, a 15-minute subway ride from Wall Street, where it doesn't look like we're on the edge of an economic abyss. (3 minutes)
Act One. The Day the Market Died.
Alex Blumberg and Adam Davidson recount the 36-hour period, two weeks ago, when the credit markets froze. Plus, what it’s like now for businesses to get short-term loans, and how the hardship is spreading to every sector of the economy. (16 minutes)
Act Two. Out of the Hedges and Into the Woods.
One more confusing financial product that’s bringing down the global economy. And one of way to think about this product is this: If bad mortgages got the financial system sick, this next thing you’re about to hear about, helped spread the sickness into an epidemic. These are "credit default swaps." Alex explains. (19 minutes)
Act Three. Swap Cops.
Ira talks with Michael Greenberger, a former commodities regulator, who tells the story of when it was decided not to regulate credit default swaps. And how that decision was emblematic of the way we didn’t regulate a lot of the toxic financial products we’re hearing about now. (8 minutes)Song: "Bankrupt on Selling," Modest Mouse
Act Four. What's Next?
Ira and Adam answer the question: Was the $700 billion bailout bill signed into law today a good idea or a bad one? (10 minutes)
Monday, October 06, 2008
Flys With Honey
What's interesting about this Keating-5 document to me is not McCain's involvement in the scandal, but the misspellings and typos. Check out:
...it flys in the face of...
Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Fool?
I am.
Sarah Palin has taken her heels off, apparently, to insinuate a relationship between Barack Obama and a man who was once a leader in the Weather Underground movement. She calls this man, William Ayers a terrorist, but the facts don't hold up.
From CNN:
In the 1960s, Ayers was a founding member of the radical Weather Underground group. Federal charges against them were dropped due to FBI misconduct in gathering evidence. Ayers, 63, is now an education professor at the University of Illinois at Chicago.
Obama campaign spokesman Ben LaBolt told CNN that after meeting Obama through the Annenberg project, Ayers hosted a campaign event for him that same year. LaBolt also said the two have not spoken by phone or exchanged e-mail messages since Obama came to the U.S. Senate in 2005.
There is no indication that Ayers and Obama are now "palling around," or that they have had an ongoing relationship in the past three years. Also, there is nothing to suggest that Ayers is now involved in terrorist activity or that other Obama associates are.
It's laughable to believe that the University of Illinois has a terrorist holding a tenured teaching position. And it's despicable, the lengths to which the McCain campaign will go; when, without much dredging or insinuating anyone could easily make the argument that as a member of the Keating 5, John McCain is the last person we'd want in the White House, given our current economic crisis.
Friday, October 03, 2008
Facebook Confusion: Friend vs. Acquaintance
Here's what's happening to me on facebook. Lovely people who I recognize but will never see again and never really had any relationship with other than attending the same high school, add me as a friend on facebook. It's a quandary. I am very particular with words - and some of these people were never my friends and they certainly aren't my friends now. They meet the classic definition of acquaintances.
ac·quaint·ance
–noun 1. a person known to one, but usually not a close friend.
2. the state of being acquainted.
3. personal knowledge as a result of study, experience, etc.: a good acquaintance with French wines.
4. (used with a plural verb) the persons with whom one is acquainted.
I wish I had the option to add these people as acquaintances instead of ignoring them or saying, in a sort of forced way, "hi friend!!" It's awkward. I don't add people as friends if we weren't ever really friends.
I have come to a decision though that I am going to have to hit 'ignore'. It's the only option. It feels like some sort of Seinfeld episode like when Jerry put his foot down about kissing virtual strangers - kissing hello, kissing goodbye. That's me. I'm just not comfortable. I can't do it I tell ya.
ac·quaint·ance
–noun 1. a person known to one, but usually not a close friend.
2. the state of being acquainted.
3. personal knowledge as a result of study, experience, etc.: a good acquaintance with French wines.
4. (used with a plural verb) the persons with whom one is acquainted.
I wish I had the option to add these people as acquaintances instead of ignoring them or saying, in a sort of forced way, "hi friend!!" It's awkward. I don't add people as friends if we weren't ever really friends.
I have come to a decision though that I am going to have to hit 'ignore'. It's the only option. It feels like some sort of Seinfeld episode like when Jerry put his foot down about kissing virtual strangers - kissing hello, kissing goodbye. That's me. I'm just not comfortable. I can't do it I tell ya.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
I'm reminded of Hopkins today.
One of my favorite poems, and one of the few I've committed to memory:
Spring and Fall
to a young child
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By & by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep & know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By & by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep & know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Helene's Spleen: Sarah "six-pack" Palin - just a regular gal for 'mongst the hoity-toity Washington elite
Helene's Spleen: Sarah "six-pack" Palin - just a regular gal for 'mongst the hoity-toity Washington elite
This is very funny. How did we get from John Doe (so respectable) to Joe Six-Pack?
This is very funny. How did we get from John Doe (so respectable) to Joe Six-Pack?
I stand by all the misstatements that I've made
On the eve of the Vice Presidential debate, I am fondly reminded of that other bumbling fool in-over-his-head VP, Dan Quayle. Here are some of my personal favorites:
"What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is." Source: (USA Today 5/10/89)
"There were no Palestinians riding on planes on September 9th."
Source Time Magazine (Quayle was referencing the 9/11 attacks)
"The Holocaust was an obscene period in our nation's history. I mean in this century's history. But we all lived in this century. I didn't live in this century."
Senator Dan Quayle, 9/15/88 (reported in Esquire, 8/92, The New Yorker, 10/10/88, p.102)
"Verbosity leads to unclear, inarticulate things."
Senator Dan Quayle, 10/30/88 (reported in Esquire, 8/92 and the LA Times, 10/30/88)
"Hawaii has always been a very pivotal role in the Pacific. It is in the Pacific. It is a part of the United States that is an island that is right here."
Vice President Dan Quayle, Hawaii, 4/25/89 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)
The other day [the President] said, I know you've had some rough times, and I want to do something that will show the nation what faith that I have in you, in your maturity and sense of responsibility. (He paused, then said) Would you like a puppy?
Source: LA Times 5/21/89
"We are on an irreversible trend towards more freedom and democracy - but that could change."
Vice President Dan Quayle, Hawaii, 5/22/89 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)
"Mars is essentially in the same orbit...Mars is somewhat the same distance from the Sun, which is very important. We have seen pictures where there are canals, we believe, and water. If there is water, that means there is oxygen. If oxygen, that means we can breathe."
Vice President Dan Quayle, Hawaii, 8/11/89 (interview broadcast on CNN, referenced in 9/1/89 Washington Post article: "A Quayle Vision of Mars")
"One word sums up probably the responsibility of any Governor, and that one word is 'to be prepared'."
December 6, 1993
"For NASA, space is still a high priority."
Vice President Dan Quayle, talking to NASA employees, 9/5/90 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)
"I have been asked who caused the riots and the killing in LA, my answer has been direct & simple: Who is to blame for the riots? The rioters are to blame. Who is to blame for the killings? The killers are to blame."
Vice President Dan Quayle (during the Commonwealth Club speech 5/19/92)
"Illegitimacy is something we should talk about in terms of not having it."
Vice President Dan Quayle, 5/20/92 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)
Attributed:
"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix."
"Potato. P-O-T-A-T-O-E."
"My friends, no matter how rough the road may be, we can and we will never surrender to what is right."
In a speech to the Christian Coalition
"You all look like happy campers to me. Happy campers you are, happy campers you have been, and, as far as I am concerned, happy campers you will always be."
In a speech to American Samoans
"I stand by all my misstatements."
"The future will be better tomorrow."
"A word of advice: 'get a job.'"
"We're going to have the best educated American people in the world."
"What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is." Source: (USA Today 5/10/89)
"There were no Palestinians riding on planes on September 9th."
Source Time Magazine (Quayle was referencing the 9/11 attacks)
"The Holocaust was an obscene period in our nation's history. I mean in this century's history. But we all lived in this century. I didn't live in this century."
Senator Dan Quayle, 9/15/88 (reported in Esquire, 8/92, The New Yorker, 10/10/88, p.102)
"Verbosity leads to unclear, inarticulate things."
Senator Dan Quayle, 10/30/88 (reported in Esquire, 8/92 and the LA Times, 10/30/88)
"Hawaii has always been a very pivotal role in the Pacific. It is in the Pacific. It is a part of the United States that is an island that is right here."
Vice President Dan Quayle, Hawaii, 4/25/89 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)
The other day [the President] said, I know you've had some rough times, and I want to do something that will show the nation what faith that I have in you, in your maturity and sense of responsibility. (He paused, then said) Would you like a puppy?
Source: LA Times 5/21/89
"We are on an irreversible trend towards more freedom and democracy - but that could change."
Vice President Dan Quayle, Hawaii, 5/22/89 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)
"Mars is essentially in the same orbit...Mars is somewhat the same distance from the Sun, which is very important. We have seen pictures where there are canals, we believe, and water. If there is water, that means there is oxygen. If oxygen, that means we can breathe."
Vice President Dan Quayle, Hawaii, 8/11/89 (interview broadcast on CNN, referenced in 9/1/89 Washington Post article: "A Quayle Vision of Mars")
"One word sums up probably the responsibility of any Governor, and that one word is 'to be prepared'."
December 6, 1993
"For NASA, space is still a high priority."
Vice President Dan Quayle, talking to NASA employees, 9/5/90 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)
"I have been asked who caused the riots and the killing in LA, my answer has been direct & simple: Who is to blame for the riots? The rioters are to blame. Who is to blame for the killings? The killers are to blame."
Vice President Dan Quayle (during the Commonwealth Club speech 5/19/92)
"Illegitimacy is something we should talk about in terms of not having it."
Vice President Dan Quayle, 5/20/92 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)
Attributed:
"I love California. I practically grew up in Phoenix."
"Potato. P-O-T-A-T-O-E."
"My friends, no matter how rough the road may be, we can and we will never surrender to what is right."
In a speech to the Christian Coalition
"You all look like happy campers to me. Happy campers you are, happy campers you have been, and, as far as I am concerned, happy campers you will always be."
In a speech to American Samoans
"I stand by all my misstatements."
"The future will be better tomorrow."
"A word of advice: 'get a job.'"
"We're going to have the best educated American people in the world."
Baby U
I heard a fascinating story yesterday on This American Life (podcast) about Geoffrey Canada, the founder of The Harlem Children's Zone. Canada started to Think Big, which is what the edition of TAL was all about. He wanted to solve big problems in a big way - getting kids out of poverty, keeping black boys from fast-tracking into the prison system and getting Harlem kids prepared for adulthood. It's truly extraordinary what Canada realized and how easy it could be to make a significant change. According to him, the most important difference between poor parents and well-to-do parents was the sheer number of words an affluent child hears. The amount of language and the quality of that language (encouraging and positive) is a deciding factor.
So, he began programs that are succeeding and showing amazing results teaching parents in Harlem things that suburban parents just know: namely that coporal punishment doesn't work, reading to your children is very important, building them up is crucial. It's interesting that in wealthy neighborhoods there is a strong sort of peer pressure to be a good parent. And there are very strong taboos about doing certain things that these poor parents were still free to do - 'popping' their kids, insulting them and running them down, yelling all the time, not going to pre-school - things that in my neighborhood we feel an intense pressure from our community to avoid. There would be a lot of gossip about me and kids wouldn't come for play dates if I were the kind of parent I heard about in this episode of This American Life. Very interesting.
www.thislife.org
So, he began programs that are succeeding and showing amazing results teaching parents in Harlem things that suburban parents just know: namely that coporal punishment doesn't work, reading to your children is very important, building them up is crucial. It's interesting that in wealthy neighborhoods there is a strong sort of peer pressure to be a good parent. And there are very strong taboos about doing certain things that these poor parents were still free to do - 'popping' their kids, insulting them and running them down, yelling all the time, not going to pre-school - things that in my neighborhood we feel an intense pressure from our community to avoid. There would be a lot of gossip about me and kids wouldn't come for play dates if I were the kind of parent I heard about in this episode of This American Life. Very interesting.
www.thislife.org
The Better to See You With
"A wolf is at the door" - George Bush
The Wildlife Action Fund is running an anti-Palin ad. A news article states:
"Last year, Palin's office announced the state would offer cash to kill wolves. Incentives included offering volunteer pilots and aerial gunner teams $150 for turning in the forelegs of freshly killed wolves."
This made me think of the movie Never Cry Wolf - an excellent film with Charles Martin Smith about Alasakan wolves. We used to love this film when I was in college. I remember watching it with Mike and Bennett. It sort of makes me sick that people were offered money to kill and dismember wolves. That movie made me love those animals.
The Wildlife Action Fund is running an anti-Palin ad. A news article states:
"Last year, Palin's office announced the state would offer cash to kill wolves. Incentives included offering volunteer pilots and aerial gunner teams $150 for turning in the forelegs of freshly killed wolves."
This made me think of the movie Never Cry Wolf - an excellent film with Charles Martin Smith about Alasakan wolves. We used to love this film when I was in college. I remember watching it with Mike and Bennett. It sort of makes me sick that people were offered money to kill and dismember wolves. That movie made me love those animals.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Owl Babies
I love Bird Note on NPR and I always hear it just after I drop off the boys at school. Today was about the great horned owl - a couple and their babies.
transcript:
Compared to many birds, Great Horned Owls remain with their parents a long time. Robins, for example, are fending for themselves only six weeks after they hatch. The two owlets are now almost seven months old. They were born in early March, from eggs laid in late January. The mother incubated the eggs for a month, never leaving the nest. During that month, the male Great Horned Owl was the sole provider.
By April, both parents were hunting through the night. They airlifted in meal after meal to the rapidly growing young, everything from delectable ducks to smelly skunks. But for the last two weeks, the adults have not fed the young. The owlets have learned the skills they need to hunt on their own.
Today could be the final day the family group roosts together. For any night now, the young owls will strike out on their own.
We’d like to know what you think of BirdNote. Please send your comments to info@BirdNote.org.
We had a book for Emery and then Wilbur called OWL BABIES about just this. And both boys loved that book and would have me read it 4 or 5 times each night. The story goes that the babies wake up and their mommy is not there. They think a lot and just when they are about to panic, she swoops into the nest and they flap and they dance and are overjoyed to see her. She asks what's all the fuss? You knew I'd come back!
Bird Note today reminded me of my little owlets and their favorite owlet book.
transcript:
Compared to many birds, Great Horned Owls remain with their parents a long time. Robins, for example, are fending for themselves only six weeks after they hatch. The two owlets are now almost seven months old. They were born in early March, from eggs laid in late January. The mother incubated the eggs for a month, never leaving the nest. During that month, the male Great Horned Owl was the sole provider.
By April, both parents were hunting through the night. They airlifted in meal after meal to the rapidly growing young, everything from delectable ducks to smelly skunks. But for the last two weeks, the adults have not fed the young. The owlets have learned the skills they need to hunt on their own.
Today could be the final day the family group roosts together. For any night now, the young owls will strike out on their own.
We’d like to know what you think of BirdNote. Please send your comments to info@BirdNote.org.
We had a book for Emery and then Wilbur called OWL BABIES about just this. And both boys loved that book and would have me read it 4 or 5 times each night. The story goes that the babies wake up and their mommy is not there. They think a lot and just when they are about to panic, she swoops into the nest and they flap and they dance and are overjoyed to see her. She asks what's all the fuss? You knew I'd come back!
Bird Note today reminded me of my little owlets and their favorite owlet book.
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