Lamenting the Lack of Blogworthy Events

Even if there were Blogworthy events, I'm not sure I would have had the time to write about them.

1. Too much work

2. Too many concert rehearsals (over at last)

3. Too much general laziness

4. Time off next week - maybe blogging will happen

If not Happy, Healthy Holidays!!!

Love and Marriage

The pictures in today's paper of crying, happy, smiling couples getting married yesterday made me happy.  Yesterday was the first day my state, Connecticut, allowed same sex marriages.  Yet it can't be too far from any one's mind that what is permitted now in Connecticut has been taken away in California - not just up-front banned - a right that had been previously granted by the courts has been taken away - revoked as a result of a well-financed coalition of special interest groups.

Additional states have passed ballot initiatives to revise their constitutions to expressly take rights away from same sex couples.

Particularly disturbing is an initiative passed in Arkansas that prohibits couples co-habiting outside a legal marriage from becoming foster or adoptive parents.  While this applies to both homosexual and heterosexual couples, according to the NYT, the intent of the backers was expressly to thwart the 'gay agenda'.  As a result approximately 3700 children in state custody who have been abandoned, neglected or abused by their heterosexual parents are being doubly punished; denied the potential of a loving home because of bigotry and hatred and fear.

I was particularly moved by Keith Olbermann's Special Comment the other night on Prop 8.  I plan on emailing the link to everyone I know.  I think Keith says it all.

www.msnbc.msn/id/3036677/#27652443  (you will have to copy and paste in your browser since I haven't figured out how to embed the video)

Today I am Proud to be American

After 8 long years, I kept thinking of Ford saying about Watergate, 'our long national nightmare is over'

Is the Slime Indeed Bottomless?

Fake Virginia vs. Real Virginia

Anti-America vs. Pro-America

Godless Money vs. ??? WHAT???

I would have posted a link to the video if I could figure out how.  It's on YouTube.

The Final Weeks of High School

Admittedly I spent my final days of high school skipping classes and hanging out with my friends at a beach so remote the Vice-Principal would have had to be in a boat on the water to find us.

The final days of this election cycle is populated with perhaps the archetypes of high school seniors in the final days of school.

Bush: 

Bad case of senioritis.  No friends to hang out at the beach with.  Most likely to attempt some huge destructive prank before graduation.

Palin:  

The kid who pulls the fire alarm and calls in the bomb scares just to be disruptive. (Note: when I was in high school bomb scares were: a. more frequent than fire drills, b. taken less seriously than fire drills, and c. unlikely to be covered by our local paper much less become a media event.

McCain:  

Palin's creepy anti-social boyfriend who she is openly cheating on.  He is the angry, dispirited kid who just wants everything to be over.  This kid was never a good student, not an athlete, never found a social niche, and lives with the scars of some long-ago childhood abuse. He shows up at school most days but may as well be invisible.

Obama:  

He reminds me of a specific person rather than a 'type'.  Our yearbook editor was a girl named Sandy.  Sandy was a tad under 5 feet tall and renowned for the number of books she could carry home to study.  And not 'study' as in 'do the assigned homework' but 'study' in the sense of do more work than required and learn more about the topic than possibly the teacher.  Even with the yearbook safely at the printer, the college deposit sent in, and her position as class valedictorian assured, Sandy was still writing papers, still studying for tests and still showing up for class (or so I heard from the beach) prepared and ready to discuss the topic of the day.

Obama must remain like Sandy.  No letting up until the diploma is safely in hand, belongings are moved into the college dorm room and class registration is complete.  Then maybe a coffee break of an hour or two, but surely no partying away the first semester. The same level of commitment shown in high school must be evident on Day One of college.

Designer Hockey Mom Duds

Not sure I know  of any other grade-schoolers who carry Louis Vuitton. But maybe she's just carrying it for her mom.  Wait, I didn't know hockey moms wore Valentino (and I swear I would have blanked out the face if I could have and still made the point).  Maybe this only happens in the 'real', 'pro-America' America.  Surely not in the 'fake' America where I live (outside of Fairfield County, that is)!

$150,000 for clothes, hair and make-up?  Did Joe Biden get a multi-thousand dollar makeover? Just sayin', you betcha, also.

Coolest Dogs Ever!!! (After Rupert the Noisy, of course)

I was not aware of this breed but a co-worker has two of them so I looked them up on Google images.  This is a Bergamasco and it bears a striking resemblance to a dust mop - in a good way.

I had to include a picture of Rupert lest he be offended.  This is the 'why are you waking me up to take my picture' look.  About two seconds later he was barking like a lunatic at the mail carrier.

Reasons to Love Fall

Twisted Logic

Much has been made over Barack Obama's middle name.  The yahoos at the McCain/Palin rallies just love to refer to him as Barack Hussein Obama.  Clearly this is an attempt not only to portray him as 'other' but also to link him to that other Hussein (psst, you know which one). Saddam Hussein was an enemy of America.  Obama's middle name is Hussein.  Therefore Obama is an enemy of America.

Using that twisted logic, since my middle name is Edith, I must be a 'dingbat'.  Non-religious Hubby (middle name Peter) must have some hugely Catholic leanings or at some point caught a wolf by the tail.  And, Becki, have you been hanging around in Oz again with Rupert look-alike Toto, a scarecrow, a lion, and a tin man???

So the only conclusion we can come to, using this McCain campaign logic is that John McCain is gay.  His middle name is Sidney.  From 1981-1983 there was a TV show called Love, Sidney in which the title character, an artist played by Tony Randall, was gay.   There you have it. The character Sidney was gay.  McCain's middle name is Sidney.  Therefore McCain is gay.

Road Work

I know the city/state or whoever owns the road is trying to save money on overtime, but it just doesn't seem like a good idea to repave the major access road to the highway on a weekday at rush hour.  Saw and heard lots of road rage on my way to physical therapy this morning.  Took the back roads home.

(This is not a picture of the actual road....this is Google image)

I Want to Knit Again

This is the Icebreaker speech I gave at Toastmasters a couple of weeks ago:

"I have not knit in over 20 years.  The last time I knit I made myself a sweater.  It was a very nice sweater but it had very long arms.  Now I have long arms so normally that would not be a problem but this sweater was made from a stretchy mohair yarn so each time I wore it and had it dry cleaned the sleeves got longer and longer and longer until finally they were a good foot longer than my actual arms.  I eventually had to get rid of the sweater and I haven’t knit anything since. 

But when my book club read The Friday Night Knitting Club and decided that in addition to discussing the book we would all begin a knitting project I got excited.  The book was quite enjoyable and I began to have visions of the scarves and wraps and shawls and bags I would knit in fabulous silk, cotton and wool yarns.  I had already decided that I was giving up on sleeves so sweaters would no longer be an option.  I was pumped.  Unfortunately, due to family commitments I was unable to attend the book club meeting but I did get a report from my friend Karen who picked both the book and the project. 

The project, a scarf, was billed as a two hour effort; all ‘knit’ stitches, nothing fancy, no purls, no yarn-overs, no slip stitches or anything complicated.  It was knit with a double strand of yarn so the idea was to pull one end from the outside of the skein and one end from the inside, hold them together and knit with the two strands.  This is harder than it sounds.  According to Karen much wine-fueled hilarity ensued as the yarn got increasingly more and more tangled.  Eventually everyone managed to get untangled, cast on the 12 stitches and even actually knit a row or two.  The evening was declared a success. 

The next day Karen dropped my yarn and knitting needles off at my house so I could catch up.  I read the directions, discovered that I had the wrong size needles, decided that I would cast on 14 stitches instead of 12 to make up for using slightly smaller needles and then I set to work.  The outside end of the yarn was easy to find.  I began to root around inside the skein to find the inside end.  Then the tangling began.  Two hour project indeed.  After two hours all I had was a mess.  I was supposed to have a scarf not a bagful of purple spaghetti.

Every night I tried to untangle the yarn with less and less success.  Eventually my daughter, who, incidentally, was effortlessly creating a mohair and cotton confection with a definite lacy pattern on scary-looking double ended needles, suggested I cut the yarn at the knot and keep trying.  I thought cutting was the easy way out so I soldiered on.  Still I had no success. 

My husband is a casual fisherman.  Fishing lines frequently get tangled and he is quite good at getting them untangled.  I thought that if I sat on the sofa with my purple pile of spaghetti and looked sad he might take pity on me and do the untangling for me.  Sadly he did not rise to the bait. 

Eventually I cut the yarn but it still didn’t help.  Time was running out.  It was two days before our next meeting and everyone supposedly was bringing their projects.  I didn’t have a project; I had a mess.  So I did what any sane person would do, and what I should have done sooner, I went to buy more yarn.  This time I got two skeins so I would only have to deal with the outside end and the proper size needles.  Then I got busy.  Luckily by the time the meeting rolled around I had about 20 rows done and it actually was beginning to look like a scarf. 

At the meeting we shared our projects, at least Karen and I did.  The others said they ‘forgot’ to bring theirs but I think that was code for ‘I was embarrassed to bring mine.’ 

Karen decided against giving her scarf to her daughter-in-law as a birthday gift.  It would likely send the wrong message as Karen had picked up a few stitches along the way and the shape of the scarf was definitely not rectangular.  But she is thinking about a baby sweater for an expected grandchild and I still have the visions of scarves and shawls, so I think I will continue. 

Our next book is The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.  I hope this doesn’t involve cooking."

Here is my finished project:

 

I have a new project.  It is supposed to be a felted hobo-style bag.  Clearly I have not made much progress.

 

Bud & Clamato

I found this a while back when Becki and Sho were here.  For the uninitiated Clamato is clam flavored tomato juice and Bud is, well Bud.  Maybe this is a big hit I know nothing about but is it vile? You betcha.......

Self-reflection

Not sure why I am posting this.  I wrote it in a fit of self reflection brought on, I think, by a question my ex-husband's current wife asked about what I remember about a disastrous co-ministry my ex and I had many years ago.  I've thought this and talked of it for a while but I haven't put it to paper (virtual tho it may be) 'til now.  A fit of honesty can be good for the soul.

I went into the Christian ministry as a ‘fuck you’ to the religious tradition in which I grew up; a tradition that told me women were second class citizens, required to subjugate themselves to men. 

For all their limitations and the difficulties in our relationship, I saw my mother and grandmother put a roof over our heads and food on our table every day of every year without the assistance of a man.  I saw women come to church every week knowing that their husbands were waiting to beat the shit out of them when they got home because the husbands forbade them to go.  These were damn strong women.  And while I now may not share their beliefs I have to respect their strength. 

These women were no second class citizens.  They were under no obligation to subject themselves to abusive asshole husbands.  They came to church for comfort and relief, yet they had no voice in a system that said only men had the right to speak; only men had the right to decide; only men had authority given by God over matters of the home and the church. 

When I was 12 I asked my pastor if he would rather see a church close for want of a pastor or have a woman as pastor.  He would prefer the church close.  This was crap.  As were the visiting preachers with their flow charts of ‘God’s Order for the Family’ with God as the head, Men next, and women and children together on the same bottom rung.  More bullshit.  More anger to fuel me.

I rebelled in the way I knew would piss them off the most.  I signed up for seminary with the intention of becoming an ordained minister. 

I graduated seminary cum laude.  I had a baby in the middle of my studies and appalled male classmates by discreetly but unashamedly nursing her in classes where I was one of only a handful of women.  I was a campus leader and agitator for the inclusion of women the great boys’ club of the church.  I was ordained in the denomination of my choice. 

I was serving as superintendent of the church’s Sunday School when I started school.  One of the church's 'ministries' was to provide financial assistance to male seminarians. Their response to me was to inform me that I was no longer fit to have influence over the souls of the children since I was willfully and disobediently overturning God’s order. 

Needless to say my future relations with that church were rocky.  One of my greatest personal victories, as I defined 'victory' at the time, in this battle occurred when the church invited my then husband to preach on one of the weeks the pastor was on vacation.  My mother, respected though no longer allowed to serve on a church board or committee on account of her being a woman and divorced and all and having no man under whose authority to operate, insisted that my husband would do no such thing unless I was invited to preach the next week.  Surprisingly they caved and I preached from a pulpit to which, I was still officially denied access.

 So I did it.  I accomplished my great ‘fuck you’.  I was good at doing the minister thing.  Congregations liked me and respected me.  And I was a phony.  Not only was I there for the entirely wrong reasons, a personal kiss-off to a tradition I abhorred,  I wasn’t sure that I believed what I was saying from the pulpit I had bullied my way into.

The end came in, as they say, the middle of success.  I was serving as associate pastor of a moderately sized church.  I did lots of counseling, a fair amount of preaching and married and buried a number of church folk.  People trusted me.  I stood up for the youth of the church, insisting they not be treated as mere children.  I led well attended and well received bible studies.  I served on statewide and national denominational committees.  I was a great package.  But I no longer believed any of it.  And I played the part, week after week, month after month.

Until I got the letter.  It was anonymous, slipped into my church mail slot on an ordinary day.  It was a plea simply for me to pray for the writer.  About what he/she didn’t say.  He/she did say that the strength of my faith was evident and he/she knew that if I prayed God would surely listen. 

Whoever the writer, whatever their sincerity, it suddenly hit me that while I didn’t take myself all that seriously in my role as minister, other people did and I had absolutely no right to do what I was doing to them.  I had no right to allow them to trust in an illusion.  I had no right. 

So I left.  At the time I said it was because I needed a job with health benefits since my husband had been laid off.  However true that was, it was not the whole truth.  I could no longer sell my soul to the church.  I could no longer maintain my personal integrity and my position in the church.  I had said ‘fuck you’ to a religious tradition.  Big deal.  I was miserable playing a role, lying to myself and to the people who looked to me for truth. 

So now, many years later, I am a reasonably happy agnostic, trying to live not for Heaven but for the day, the moment; for this life and not the next; trying to do good where I can and not do harm when I can help it.  And it feels right to define my life for myself and not as a fuck off to a magical way of thinking.

iTunes 8 Genius Feature

ITunes  8 has a new feature called 'genius'.  If you activate the feature you can select a song from your library and the program will create a playlist from your songs as well as suggest songs you might want to add from the iTunes Store (of course).

Being a geek, I tried it.  I requested a playlist of 100 songs based on Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water.  On a quick glance there are some choices that are spot on and some that are a tad puzzling.  For example, between Elton John's Bennie and the Jets (possibly a questionable choice in and of itself) and Black Sabbath's Heaven and Hell is Music of the Night from Phantom of the Opera.  

There are a few other choices that are a little bizarre considering the base genre: Barry Manilow's Mandy and Wham's Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go jump out as obvious weirdness. Why those particular songs are in my library at all can be a topic for another post.

It would be interesting to know the selection criteria Apple uses to create the lists.  Then I would know if the choices are truly strange or just due to the limitations of my library.  I am going to try a smaller result set and see what happens.  And, yes, I realize this paragraph is incredibly geeky.  

Bottom line, this looks like a fun feature to play with.  So far I am having fun.

The Larson-Aldrich Dirty Dish Reduction Act

I'm not sure about the science but I believe it to be at least anecdotally true that the amount of dirty dishes generated in a day increases exponentially with the addition of each person to a household.

At our house we have enacted The Larson-Aldrich Dirty Dish Reduction Act.

The residents of the Larson-Aldrich household are most kindly requested to observe the following guidelines.

A.) Each resident is allowed one coffee cup, one water glass and one glass for other beverages per day.  These allotments must be reused for like beverages for the duration of the day.  Beer glasses are exempt.

2.) Measuring cups and spoons should be cleaned and returned to their homes after each use.

Z.) If it possible to reuse a dish for a similar food, e.g. an english muffin plate used for breakfast can be re-used for a sandwich at lunch (or as they say in Osaka 'sandwitch').

These guidelines are entirely voluntary but in the interest of harmony and joy all residents should attempt to follow them as often as possible.

The View From Not There Part 1 - Shipley & Halmos

I am playing with the idea of blogging my thoughts as I check out the slides of the runway shows on www.style.com.

I watched the Shipley & Halmos show today.  On the women's side there was a lot of the same thing; shorts/skirt, tank, jacket-like thing.  I did like the orange minidress and the ivory dress at the end of the show. Overall the clothes were cute and flirty without being too girly but not extraordinary.

I was more impressed by the men's offerings.  Well tailored suits; I especially enjoyed the longer jacket in one of the slides.  And I loved, loved, loved the narrow too-long pants.  Such a relief after a couple of seasons of those horrific Thom Browne high-waters.

Gotta run to catch a couple more (virtual) shows before household chores.

Safari Joe and Some of His Girls

Fashion Week starts today in New York and I am excited.  I plan to spend this rainy weekend watching slide shows of all the shows.  Speaking of fashion, Hubby (above) is quite the trendsetter (Click on the pic for a larger image). Actually the Granddaughters now call him Safari Joe.  I guess in fairness I have to say that he is normally a well dressed person but that day started out cool (hence the long pants) but by the time we reached the Bronx Zoo it was pretty hot (hence the rolled up long pants).  Even I can't explain the asymmetry of the socks.  Looks like a gang sign to me but I can't figure out what gang.  Anyway, I find this picture highly amusing and it demonstrates one of the reasons I love Hubby.  He is not afraid to be a bit out there and I think this is a great example.

Rare Political Post

This is not meant to be a political blog.  But this post is slightly breaking the rules. (And the occasional political post will keep Becki up to date on what is happening on the home front.)

I watched Hillary's speech last night at the Dem Convention.  If we had seen that Hillary on the stump; human, passionate, funny (and if she just hadn't voted for the damn Iraq war) she might have been on the podium as the nominee. 

She came down hard on the Hillary supporters that threaten to vote for McSame - a real come-to-Jesus speech about how if they were in it for her they owe it to the country to move their support to Obama as she has.

She did a great job in a situation that had to be difficult for her.  Brava!!!  

And a note from Monday night - Sasha Obama is the just cutest thing.

Surviving the Maze

We survived the sunflower maze today. A few rules:

1. Wear the bug spray. I could post pics of my bugbites but that would be gross.

2. Sunflowers are heavy. They also fall at about the same height as the human face. If you are following someone and the flowers are hanging over the path and the person you are following is pushing the flowers away they will whack you in the face on the way back. Do not follow too closely.

3. Don't be the person that has to be rescued from the maze at the end of the day by the staff.

4. Have fun.

Char-Gar's Engrish Tee Shirt

I couldn't get a good pic with my phone but in addition to the above words of wisdom it says ZEALOUS - POSITIVE MOOD.  I'll try to post a better pic later.

Sissy's Engrish Tee Shirt

I know that I shall daily strive to be in my most charming aureate pomposity!!!!

You're So Vain????

I am trying to wean myself off celebrity gossip sites.  I decided that I didn't need mean-spiritedness cluttering up my soul at this point.  I have moved on to fashion sites.  I like the Sartorialist-type sites where a roving photographer finds a regular person on the street whose outfit is particularly fetching, snaps a picture and posts it on a blog.  The commenters are mostly positive; even if they don't care for the outfit they will applaud the wearer's courage. There are few if any trolls.  I have found new ways to wear some of the things in my closet.

Today I discovered there are sites where people take pictures of themselves in their own outfits and post them on a daily basis.  Now initially, it seemed a little weird.  Not that I wouldn't be tempted to do it on a day I felt I had accomplished a higher than normal level of sartorial splendor.

Now if a stranger wants to take your picture on the street because you put together an interesting outfit that's one thing.  It's a compliment.  Taking a picture of your own outfit and posting seems self-congratulatory in a slightly inappropriate way.  On the other hand why not celebrate one's sense of personal style?  No need to be a celebrity or model or designer to have style and flaunt it.

So maybe the concept is not so weird.  People look.  I look.  Some find wardrobe inspiration and some just like the fact that these posters are brave enough to put themselves out there.

I'm Having This for Dinner - YUM

The American National Costume

Boston Daughter is spending fall semester at the University of Exeter, England.  One of the mailings suggested that international students bring along their 'national costume'. That seems to be one thing we lack here in the U.S., although it is fun to speculate what an American national costume might look like.  Here is what most of the world probably sees:

American National Costume - Female:

Capri length pants (alternative: mom jeans.  If this option is selected the accompanying tee-shirt must be tucked in)

Tee or sweatshirt with flower appliques (alternate shirt design: puppies, kittens, grandchildren, or a large American flag)

White socks (preferably short in length - especially if choosing the capri option -  leg must be visible between the top of the sock and the bottom of the pant)

Blindingly white Reebok sneakers

Visor (either hard plastic or fabric)

Fanny pack

Optional: oversized canvas tote for all the things accompanying male doesn't want to carry

American National Costume - Male

Shorts

Tee or sweatshirt with jingoistic or offensive slogan or large American flag (alternative: polo shirt with golf club, college or corporate logo)

Knee length socks (can be white, brown or black)

Blindingly white Reeboks (alternative: sandals...alternative 2: brown or black lace-up shoes)

Fanny pack

Camera (must be large and worn around neck)

Baseball style cap with, preferably, American sports team or military logo (alternative: golf club, college or corporate logo)

If traveling in a foreign country it is advisable that both the male and female costumes include a vinyl or canvas passport case worn on a lanyard like a necklace. 

Those are my ideas.  Anyone else?

Coincidence? I Think Not

This can't be a coincidence.  I DVR'd an episode of Shin Chan from Cartoon Network's Adult Swim last week.  A few days later I got an email from Amazon.com telling me that Season 1, Part 1 of Shin Chan was available on DVD.

Looks like AT&T and Amazon are in cahoots.

Best Movie Musical EVER!!!

I saw it this past weekend.  I saw it the weekend before.  I'm pretty sure I could see it again this coming weekend.  Any takers?

(Hubby says once was plenty for him.)

Hopefully Karma is Not a Bitch

Here is a classic ethical dilemma come to life.  It is Sunday afternoon.  There are about eight people on the subway car when a woman about 30 years old boards.  She excuses herself and asks for everyones' attention.  She then tells a story of how she fell asleep at the bus station and had all her money, credit cards, bus ticket, and insulin pens stolen.  She stayed outside all night with nothing to eat or drink, she was scared.  She says she called Travelers Aid and it would take three to seven business days to get her some help. What's more her dog is alone in her apartment and she has to be at work at 7 a.m. on Monday at a job she just started two weeks ago.  She says a bus ticket is 11.99 and asks if anyone would be willing to give her one dollar toward bus fare home.

At the next stop a few more people get on and she repeats her story.  This time she adds the detail that she is pregnant.  Maybe she should have led with that. 

If a panhandler on the street asks for money, it is easy to look away and ignore.  In a subway car with only a dozen or so other people it's a tad more difficult.

Probably just another panhandler, albeit with a more detailed story.  There are holes in the story; if she is an insulin dependent diabetic she would be in a coma if she hadn't had anything to eat or drink and such.  

So there is a 99% chance she's a hustler.  But what about the other 1%?  What if what she says happened did happen?  What if someone on the train who could give her $12 and not miss it? If she takes the money to buy drugs or booze, that's her choice.  The giver chooses to do a good thing.  The receiver chooses to do a bad thing.  The receiver's choice shouldn't dictate the giver's, should it?  Won't karma be favorable to the giver regardless?

OK, you can probably tell by the title of this post what choice I made.  But I thought about it for a long time and I feel bad.  I like to think I am a better person than I demonstrated and this is an open apology to that woman.  Next time I think I'll take a chance on the 1%.

Congrats, Hubby

Here is a pic of Hubby receiving his service award for 30 years at the VA.  Congratulations!!!

And Happy Birthday Char-Gar on turning 5.

Instructions for Visiting the Miyajima Monkeys

And because I wish this blog to be educational, if you happen to visit the monkeys in Miyajima, Japan, please follow these simple instructions:

My New Hero

For anyone who would argue that McCain is the NOT same as Bush, i.e. McSame (and I don't think anyone I know would actually argue that point),  I offer you Exhibit A: Carol Kreck (pictured above).  Kreck is a 60-year-old librarian who had the audacity to carry a hand-made sign reading "MCCAIN = BUSH" at a McCain campaign event in Denver.

Guess what happened.  Venue security, acting on a  request from McCain's staff (or the Secret Service, depending on who is telling the story), had this dangerous subversive removed from the Town Meeting and charged with trespassing.   Does this sound disturbingly familiar?  It should. We have already had nearly 8 years of  not-so-free speech under Bushwhack.  We don't need it for however many more years if McSame becomes president.

And in case anyone needs more evidence, this old familiar picture speaks for itself:

R.I.P. Cat

Sadly we had to have our cat, Cat, put down last night.  As close as we can figure she was about 18 years old and she had breast cancer.  It was the right decision at the right time but still sad.  She was a good cat.

Today's Spinning in His Grave Person of the Day: Thomas Jefferson

When I posted yesterday I had no idea that Bushwhack was speaking yesterday at Monticello, Jefferson's home.  Good old Tom must have done some massive grave spinning yesterday.

It was heartening to see that Bush actually had to witness the fact that people actually disagree with him.  It's a sign of how much 'political capital' he has squandered that he can no longer be assured that his advance team can drag up enough true believers to fill an audience or that they can keep protesters out of sight and out of earshot.  In addition to the Code Pink contingent at the event there were actually protesters on the motorcade route and not corralled as usual in a 'free speech' cage where they cannot be seen or heard by Bushie.

There's been some debate as to whether the swearing in of new citizens was an appropriate venue for protest.  I'm not commenting on the appropriateness of the venue of protest but it is telling that Bush's response, less than a minute into his speech, about how we believe in free speech in America, was at best disingenuous and at worst, a flat out lie. 'We' might believe in free speech; it may be enshrined in our Constitution but since when has the Constitution been anything to Bush other than a minor inconvenience that can be ignored when it gets in the way of his imperial presidency?

January 20, 2009 cannot come soon enough.

July 4 Thoughts

In 1821, in a letter to John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, reflecting on contemporaneous events in Europe wrote: 

I shall not die without a hope that light and liberty are on steady advance...And even should the cloud of barbarism and despotism again obscure the science and liberties of Europe, this country remains to preserve and restore light and liberty to them. In short, the flames kindled on the 4^th of July, 1776, have spread over too much of the globe to be extinguished by the feeble engines of despotism; on the contrary, they will consume these engines and all who work them.

 

Much to Jefferson's great sorrow, were he to know, in the past 7 1/2 years the cloud of despotism has obscured the science and liberty not of Europe, but of Jefferson's own beloved and hard-fought-for United States. 

 

With the upcoming election. let's seek to rekindle the flames of freedom so that the engines of despotism that have recently been rebuilt in this country will indeed prove feeble and be consumed by the renewed and rekindled flames of liberty and light.

 

Obama, Osama and Matt Lauer

I think he does it on purpose.  This morning on the Today Show they ran a report on the newest search for Osama Bin Laden.  When it was thrown back to Matt after the piece he immediately said 'Obama.......excuse me...........Osama........'  and went on to talk about bin Laden. No stumbling on it, just out with it.  As if there weren't enough folks already confused about Obama's name, Matt Lauer again pairs the next President of the United States with our greatest terror enemy.   Do the Republicans pay him to do that or is he just a true believer?

BTW, thanks to D for catching this alleged 'slip'.  If she hadn't noticed it as well, I might well think I need to make myself a tinfoil hat.......

Also, BTW, or BTW Part Deux, if you haven't already, RUN to the theater to see Wall-E.  It is amazingly good.  I wouldn't recommend it for really little kids; they may be bored or scared during the first half.

AWWWWWWW

Is this the cutest thing you've ever seen, or what?

Larry Craig Moments

Before Larry Craig took his wide stance into the men's room I, as a woman, would think nothing of reaching under the stall partition to give or receive that most precious gift a women's room can bestow, toilet paper.  Women do this all the time.  Women's rooms are notoriously short on paper and if you sit before you check, as I often do, you can be in trouble.  But will this activity become suspect?  I now think twice about asking for t.p.  I am less nervous giving it when someone asks.  I can plead innocence that the question, 'Could I have some toilet paper' also means 'Can we do the sexy times' especially if I am caught with wad in hand.

Today I had my mini-Larry Craig moment.  Only it wasn't in a airport bathroom.  It was in a department store fitting room.  In taking off the shirt I was wearing, I inadvertently shot my Bluetooth ear thingie under the partition and into the fitting room next door.  Not even thinking about it I reached under to get it.  Only then did I notice that the room was occupied and the feet and the girlish giggle that occupied it were no more than 12-years-old.  Shit! I grabbed the Bluetooth, lamely apologized and, had I not been half-undressed, would probably have just nonchalantly strolled out of the fitting room area.  My thoughts were racing; what if the fitting room attendant or the security cameras saw that?  What if they think I'm perverted instead of clumsy and call the police?  One has to think about these things.

Alas, nothing happened.  I finished my business, the girl finished hers and returned to her grandmother. (Oddly the grandmother was dressed totally in black with her hair arranged in white, Pippi Longstocking pony tails; but that, while an amusing image, has no relevance to the story).  I have not been branded as the local Lorrie Craig and all is right with the world.  Makes ya' think though.....

See No Evil

I was in the checkout line at the supermarket yesterday and noticed that in addition to a couple of candy-free checkstands there was now a couple of 'Child Friendly Checkouts'.  Apparently some parents don't want their precious little snowflakes seeing the moral decay represented by magazine covers.  The store (as far as I know this is an individual store thing and not chain-wide) has printed up and laminated green signs that cover all of the magazines and state that this is, indeed, a child-friendly checkout.  Now, okay, I can live with that if the magazines they are covering up are Maxim or Playgirl but we are talking about my faves, People, OK, Star, Us Weekly!!!!

I mean, the stories are trashy and morally decayed and if I had a six-year-old I probably wouldn't want her to read them.  But the cover pictures are not really racy.  I think this is a case of too much coddling of the precious snowflakes.

On the other hand, covering up Oprah, More and AARP may not be such a bad idea. (And I know they don't sell the AARP magazine in stores.  Don't ask me how I know.)  But Oprah and Goldie and Jamie Lee, all of these women with whom I share a decade.  All looking fabulous.  Maybe some young - er - ish - middle-aged women don't want to see these beautiful women.  Maybe it makes them feel bad about themselves.  If I do say so myself I look damn good for my age but I also know when the wrinkling and sagging does set in, I don't have the money to get it repaired. So here's to the 'Young - er - ish - Middle Aged Women Friendly Checkout.'  Do you think they could fit that on a sign?

Those Good Old God Fearing Atheists

An interesting survey was published today (recently?? I just read about it today) concerning religious belief.  Seventy-five percent of people surveyed believe that heaven is a real place where good people are rewarded when they die.  Sixty percent of people surveyed believe that hell is a real place where bad people are punished when they die.  Nothing surprising here. However one out of five atheists believe in God.  Excuse me, did you just say that twenty percent of ATHEISTS believe in GOD?

This is just impossible.  Atheos, the root of atheist means 'a' = 'less' + 'theos' = God equals GOD-LESS.  How does one who identifies him- or herself as 'godless' believe in God?

Are they confused?  'Agnostic' might be a better self-designator.  Do they believe in God and just don't care?  Maybe they should try on 'apathetic' for size. What is this?

I sometimes wonder if a presidential candidate, instead of pandering to the superstitious masses, came out and said they were an atheist?  I don't believe the candidacy would last long.  Who would the candidate pray to for guidance in difficult times?  Who would the candidate thank for good times?  Why is a candidate required to express belief of some sort in God?

Here are thoughts to ponder?  Do we as Americans think that the person who we elect to office is so incompetent that only God can bail him out?  No wait, we have that now and God doesn't seem to be doing any bailing.  What about the concept of the founding fathers envisioning a christian nation?

Can we please stop conflating the Pilgrims and the Founding Fathers please......

The Pilgrims came here in 1620 looking for religious freedom, which roughly translated means to find a place where they could practice their version of religion without having to mess with folks who didn't agree with them.  They sought to escape the official state religion and to practice their religion in their own way.  So they came to America, almost died off and were saved by friendly natives who invented Thanksgiving.  End of story.

Not end of story.  Once they figured out they could survive here they immediately made their version religion the official state religion and everybody who lived in whatever village or town where the Puritans had plunked down a meetinghouse had to support said religion and said meetinghouse whether they shared the faith or not.  Dissenters like Roger Williams had to go find somewhere else to live.

Roughly 150 years, give or take a few, after the pilgrims landed along came the Founding Fathers.  The Founding Fathers were not the Pilgrims.  The Founding Fathers were wealthy, male landowners, many educated in law and other professions.  They didn't want to pay taxes to England and not have a say in what happened to them - no taxation without representation.

Long story short, they were aware of what was happening with the official church.  They were aware that people of faith were in an analogous position vis a vis the church as they were with England.  So they enshrined in the constitution the freedom of religion.  Their intent was to allow people who dissented from the official church to dissent without threat of punishment.

R.I.P.

R.I.P. George Carlin - you were one of the great ones.