Vox Minerva

Happy New Year

2009-01-02T16:35:00.001-07:00

Project Blog It: Red

2008-12-18T21:28:00.004-07:00

Red is my favorite color. When it comes to wearing red, it must be a deep blue-red as a yellow-red or orangey-red makes me look sallow and makes me feel rather insipid. I'll wear red shoes (I love my red Dansko clogs)and a red sweater, blouse, or dress, but the thought of red pants make me cringe. Why is that? I have two red berets which seem a bit snooty, but in a good way.

When my grandmother was alive, for years she would send me a red amaryllis on my birthday--every time I see one I think of her and miss her. For 7 years Sophie has sported various leashes, collars and halters--all red. Her winter "coat" is red with spiffy reflector strips on the back. My new LL Bean gym duffel bag is my favorite shade of red with my initials stitched in black. I miss my red wall in my Virginia Manor apartment and I've entertained the thought of buying a red leather club chair, but I'd never sleep on red sheets or eat off red dishes (except at Christmas). I'd love a red Mini convertible with black leather interior and a few pieces of Le Crueset cookware (in red).

I saw red last night at the conclusion of my nephew's (private) school Christmas "pageant" when all the moneybag families were paraded onstage and presented with photographs (even larger copies of which are hung in the school hallways) of their beautiful White children to celebrate their rich fabulousness and noblesse oblige. Red lights and stop signs impede my progress and two red Netflix envelopes just delivered the next two discs of Battlestar Galatica, Season 3. Yes, you read that right. In just about every episode, there's a beatiful, if rather trashy looking Cylon (tall and 0 body fat with blonde hair) who is always wearing a hot red dress.

My favorite apples aren't the deep red ones, but I love tomatoes, strawberries and watermelon. I love red beans,red bell peppers, Red Zinger tea, red leaf lettuce, red chilies and red fish. Not as fond of radishes or ketchup.

Project Blog It: Treat

2008-11-07T21:02:00.002-07:00

I haven't blogged in two months, and when I read this week's prompt, I first started thinking about treat in relation to "trick" and as something fun and unexpected. No original thoughts here, but treats can have a dark side, or at least fail to live up to expectation to some degree.

I continue to slowly but surely whittle my physical being down ever smaller and in that pursuit much of what I used to treat myself with is now verboten. A brownie is no longer a treat, but a morass of temptation that will not only add to my ass but would take over an hour on the treadmill to burn off. Not so much a treat anymore.

I treated myself to a massage last week, and had conjured the image of a large and strapping Swedish man or woman prepared to remind my beat-up body that it isn't all about pain. It was a treat, but the experience was less than what I'd imagined as the masseuse was a nerdy guy named "Stuart" or something like that, and was about 5'7" and 110 pounds.

When in California last month, I treated an old friend of mine to a birthday dinner. It was wonderful to see him, but for the first 15-20 minutes together he was still glued to his Blackberry and headset. When we kissed each other goodbye--I felt as much sense of melancholy and potential loss as I did "treated."

I'm dying to treat myself to a new car, a new laptop and a trip to Dallas in January to cheer on Shmonkey in the marathon, but I must first treat myself to replacing a cracked crown, which will be less than a car, but more than a plane ticket. But then again, my Mastercard company just treated me to a bigger credit limit.

It is a treat to now offically live in a blue state, but that's really only on paper. Had there been anything anti-gay equality related on the Colorado ballot as in other states, it would've passed here too. (Although, the proposed constituational amendment that would've given a fertilized egg the same legal status as a born person went down in flames, which was surprising). It is a treat to know Sarah Palin has taken her happy ass back to Alaska, but you know we haven't seen the last of her. Trick or treat indeed.

Politics For Our Times (or Sunday Morning with E)

2008-09-07T09:55:00.000-06:00

Shorter Sarah Palin

2008-09-04T19:48:00.002-06:00

(Did you notice I'm not wearing a manpantsuit?)

JOHN MCCAIN

I'm fecund! (cue to family members, including the not mentioned but frequent camera subject "how-the-hell-did-I-get-here" boy-fiancee) and my GUY kicks ass on a snowmobile!

JOHN MCCAIN WAS A POW!

Barak Obama just a pansy-assed community organizer elitist who might want to protect the Constitution!

Alaska has all the oil we need--come and take it!

Why isn't all America White like us?

JOHN MCCAIN!

I'm FECUND (cue to family again--mental high-five for audience aahhing when daughter who will partly raise the baby licks her palm and smooths the baby's head).

JOHN MCCAIN IS A MAN!

Project Blog It: Certitude

2008-09-02T18:36:00.002-06:00

I was certain I'd never get around to posting this week. However, yesterday I recalled the words of a man I briefly dated post-divorce: "certainty is the death of creativity." In retrospect, I think he was primarily making a case for never committing. However, this idea has been on my mind.

Some of the most mentally and intellectually sterile people I've ever known are people who live and work out of their certainty that the world as they see it is absolutely reflective of objective reality. It will come as no surprise to those who know me well that this sterile group is composed of a wide variety of Christian evangelical folks. Smart? Kind? Compassionate? Many of them, yes. But creative? Not as much. It is hard to think outside of the box when you believe your box is the only one that matters.

I worked for a woman who was (and likely still is) certain that she was the world's greatest boss, when in fact her likely Axis II diagnosis made working for her an almost daily nightmare. She knew how to make money and she depended upon employees when creativity was needed.

One of the few real certainties in this life is that we all die. Of profound uncertainty of course though, is how and when we will die. For patients referred to our palliaitve care program, a physician needs to comfortably say that he/she wouldn't be "surprised" if the patient died in one year or less. The physicians I work with are never certain that the morphine, oxycodone or methadone they prescribe will adequately manage pain--it requires clear communication with the patient about his/her personal goals and needs as well as creativity and the willingness/ability to think broadly or narrowly as required. I am certain that every time I pick up the phone to call a patient, his or her story will be different and determining an outcome that will best help the patient's position of uncertainty requires creativity on my part.

The High Five Club

2008-08-27T20:02:00.003-06:00

What, really, is with the high-five? It happens to me all the time, but here are about a week's worth of personal high fives:

1) Today, when I set up a Saturday meeting with my personal trainer (I know, I know), he high-fived me, and I hadn't even done anything impressive yet.
2) Last night, when I went to upgrade my membership to the new 24 Hour Fitness SUPER sport club next door, the "consultant" high-fived me when I politely laughed along at a lame joke. It wasn't really even funny, so my for my part it was a pity high-five.
3) I was high-fived by a colleague for arranging for a patient to get a hospice consult.
4) A friend and exercise buddy high-fived me after a really great work out.
5) I was high-fived by another friend when I made an acerbic comment that made her laugh.

High-fiving doesn't come naturally to me--it is during high-five moments that I feel painfully the full weight of my NPR-listening, New Yorker-reading, White self. However, I go along with it during moments that feel more appropriate for the gesture: after a good workout or a particuarly sarcastic but funny comment that puts front and center my cleverness and wit. These days, the good workout happens more often than the cleverness. But when I get high-fived just for doing my job, or when I'm 1/2 of a peer pressure high-five, I inevitably end up looking incredibly dorky (ever seen an "air" high-five?). I'm dorky enough--I don't need the added pressure.

To high-five or not to high-five--am I just anti-social?

Project Blog It: The Function of Art

2008-08-26T20:02:00.002-06:00

All I'm up for right now is thinking about how art has functioned in my own life. I confess there have been times that my exposure to certain art forms made me feel set apart from the riff-raff. Growing up in the sticks, I'd return home from a summer in Dallas after going to the art museum, the the symphony and the theatre and would look down my nose at the poor souls condemned to life within the boundaries of crusing up and down Hwy 281, hanging out at the Bowling Alley Cafe, or drinking beer at Wayne Smith dam. I didn't completely outgrow that sense of superiority--more than once I've inwardly sneered at people who wax rhapsodic about the "art" of Thomas Kinkaid--one of the richest hacks of all time. "Painter of Light" my ass. But I digress.

Art has brought me solace. Years ago I had a dream in which I was completely alone in the Kimbell Art Museum. There was no sound and it was blissfully cool. I use the memory of that dream as self-guided meditation now when I'm stressed or grieving. At times I "see" particular pieces on the walls, but most of the time, it is about Louis Kahn's building itself.

Art has pissed me off. Art rather bungled has made me laugh (bed rolling across the stage while Rodolfo sings his heart out to the consumptive Mimi) and it has moved me to tears. I have felt closer to friends because of art and I've faced personal demons and false assumptions because of art. I have been provoked and aroused by art.

After all, it really is all about me.

Project Blog It: The Seven Deadly Dwarves

2008-08-15T21:18:00.003-06:00

Greedy

S'envy

Lazy

Fatty

Haughty

Horny

Pissy

Snow White thinks they're all going to hell.

Maybe There Is a Magic Pill After All

2008-08-10T10:33:00.000-06:00

Project Blog It: Strawberries

2008-08-08T17:31:00.004-06:00

A few years ago, Shmonkey came over for a brunch, and I had some strawberries in a bowl on the table. My memory has it going like this:

1) I note with regret that the strawberries are starting to look a bit gone, and that if they were going to be eaten, that was the time.

2) Shmonkey declined, recalling a scene from "Hills Like White Elephants" in which a bowl of iffy strawberries sit on the table.

Now, I haven't thought about this moment in years, but for some reason it popped into my mind when I read that this week's prompt is "strawberries." Here's the thing about memories though--I just re-read the Hemingway piece, and for the life of me I cannot find mention of strawberries! I'm guessing Shmonkey's actual reference wasn't "Hills" at all, but this is my memory. Anyway--I also remember laughing about it--and is a welcome memory at the end of a hellacious week.

My favorite way to eat strawberries? Currently, I get them for use in my favorite smoothie:

Blend together the following:

1 small/med banana
1-1.5 cups blueberries
1 container non-fat blueberry or strawberry yogurt
6-8 strawberries
Skim milk as desired
1 T honey

It makes a lot! Whip some up when expecting some friends for brunch.

Project Blog It: Pure and Utter Nonsense Edition

2008-08-05T21:26:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, a physician I work with, while taking an early morning walk with her husband and daughter, got back to the vacation rental home in Oregon at which they were staying in time to see the house explode knowing their two other children were asleep in the house, and probably dead.

They did die.

Other forces at work in the universe other than pure, unadulterated randomness?

Nonsense it purest form.

Miracle Food

2008-07-19T14:39:00.001-06:00

Reason No. 4,293 Why This Country is Going TO HELL

2008-07-18T21:43:00.003-06:00

Via I Blame The Patriarchy--sentiments expressed there pretty aptly reflect my own.

Satire and Class

2008-07-14T20:58:00.002-06:00

Unless you've been under a rock today, you've heard the bit of buzz generated by this week's New Yorker cover. I have to confess my initial, gut reaction was "omigod!" Satire, yes, but while this was visual representation of accusations made about Michelle and Barak Obama that we've all heard before, I still found it rather shocking. However, what I have found most interesting is the discussions about who gets the joke, and supposedly who doesn't. Some have suggested that the editors figured they'd get a free pass on this because Joe Sixpack is the consumate racist, sexist xenophobe AND he doesn't read the New Yorker. And, Joe Sixpack is pretty dumb, yes? He doesn't know what satire is. But the folks who are able to get the joke are nonetheless condemning the illustration as offensive and just plain bad satire. Some criticism has centered on the fact that the perpetuators of the crap that is the subject of this supposed satire are not represented w/in the drawing itself. But is this really needed (especially since only all us smartypants will get the joke)? I mean--about all that's missing is an aborted fetus.

So what of it? Offensive? Bad satire? The New Yorker's craven need for attention and publicity? I've had too many problems uploading the image here--but you haven't seen it already, you can check it out here.

A History of Bliss

2008-07-13T18:15:00.003-06:00

At the risk of being accused of jumping on friends' blogging bandwagons, I shall offer my own thoughts about bliss. The first word that came to mind is "fleeting." My experience with bliss is that never lasts very long and is often followed or preceeded by experience or feeling that is painful or pedestrian. Because of that fleeting thang, it hasn't been easy to think of that many specific moments that stand out in memory. Here are a few:

My father's parents used to live in a house at the end of a long, tree-lined driveway in Dallas, and I can remember enduring the long drive from Blanco, but the moment we turned into that driveway (usually late at night as we'd leave after my Dad finished work) I was happy. Those initial moments of being wrapped in my grandmother's embrace, seeing the lights from the house, being allowed to stay up late with my grandmother and watch The Tonight Show--bliss.

There was a distinct moment, in the summer of of 1981, after the Mayflower van had already begun the trip to Ft. Worth and after all the good-bye parties had come and gone, and when my family drove north on Hwy 281 out of Blanco, that I felt a real sense of freedom and possibility of my own life. Not as much fun realizing how much I've screwed it up since then--but the remembrance of the moment and that feeling? Bliss.

Riding in my first "real" boyfriend's Chevy Impala, thigh to thigh, listening to Foreigner--but the real bliss would occur for the two minutes or so during "I've Been Waiting For a Girl Like You" and he would squeeze my hand. Uh huh. Foreigner.

One of the few moments of bliss during my marriage--we lived in a house on a lake--and occasionally on Sunday evenings we would sit on the dock with our feet in the water and laugh about how out-of-place we felt in that place and in that church. It offered rare moments of true companionship. I also had a beautiful garden at that same house, and I swear I grew the most fabulous vegetables. I would go out early in the a.m. and pick tomatoes to take to people at work, and then come home and cook squash, tomatoes, and onions that I picked from my own garden just minutes before. Utter bliss, I tell you.

When I watched my nephew being born--bliss followed by terror realizing he had poor respiratory function followed by hours in the ICU, then bliss again (and still some terror) when I held him and knew I would love him all of my life.

When Sophie was 10 weeks old, she decided to go on a little camping trip without me, and was missing for two days. Shmonkey was driving around with me in the rain, looking for her, when a woman called me saying she saw a puppy matching Sophie's description dead in the road, and then ten minutes later another woman calling to say she saw her in a place only 2-3 blocks from where we were. Sure enough, we rounded the corner, and Shmonkey was out of the car before I came to a complete stop, running across the street and scooping her wet body into his arms. Holding her in my lap as we drove back to the Manor--Bliss. And Shmonk--I will love you forever for that moment alone.

That weekend with ____, and that weekend with ____. Bliss was VERY short-lived-but memories still bring a smile.

Standing on the top of Enchanted Rock just before I left San Antonio, my marriage, others' expectations of how I was supposed to live my life, and an entire, and mostly painful, chapter of my life. Fear before, and I knew more doubt and fear was waiting for me when I climbed down, but for those moments of feeling secure and right in my decision--bliss.

Crawling into pre-warmed sheets in the wintertime. Bonus bliss points for when I don't have to get up for work the next day.

We had our first almost-100 degree day here in Colorado last week, and while we do not have high humidity to worry about, the sun can be pretty intense. But by sundown, the temperature usually drops 30-40 degrees and by the time I take Soph out for her last walk before bedtime, the air is cool, but also blissfully soft.

If you have read this far, my apologies. I linked to Shmonk's bliss post, and I think he is one of 2-3 people who read this blog, so if by chance there are others, you can find links to Skajlab's as well as others' bliss posts from there.

Philadelphia

2008-06-30T20:34:00.002-06:00

Am off tomorrow to Philadelphia to see the sights--back on the 5th. Dreading heat and humidity. Update on my triathalon-er pal--all seems to be well--probably pneumonia, but things could've been much more grim.

Triathalon: Not all Fun and Games

2008-06-29T21:18:00.005-06:00

One member of Team Sarcasma is in hospital tonight with pulmonary edema and without, as yet, an identifiable cause. Daisy was swimming the first leg of a triathalon today and ended up at the ER. We're told she will be fine, but it has been sobering for her and her friends to think about how quickly and unexpectedly it all happened.

These days I'm pushing my own body harder than I ever have before. Am I daft to think I'm capable of being prepared for a triathalon in August? Granted, it is a relay and the plan is for me to take only one leg of the race, but I only got on a bicycle again (after years of not riding) last week. I'm in better cardiovascular shape than I have been in years, but I'm wondering if I shouldn't exercise a bit more caution. Or not. I'm more aware than ever how life can change in an instant and as a main goal is to enter my mid-late 40's in great shape and hopefully better equipped to work and remain active as I get old(er), I'm still more inclined to challenge myself.

I resisted the temptation to give Daisy too much of a pep (get back up on the horse) talk today--the reality is that if she has heart failure or something equally serious, she may have to restrict her activity for awhile. But her self-confidence has taken a hit, and she's had medical professionals looking at her today likely wondering why she was in that water. I can tell you this though--no matter if I'm physically and mentally ready for that relay triathalon--if I dream that I'm mowed down by a fast-moving peleton--I'm staying in bed.

Et Tu, Triathalon?

2008-06-24T19:39:00.004-06:00

Somehow I have found myself agreeing to participate in a relay triathalon with my friends (for the sake of internet anonymityI shall refer to them as Taz and Daisy) and I think I'll be responsible for the cycling leg. Only 12 miles--so I think I can handle that--but I haven't been on a bicycle in a very long time.

To that end, I have begun "training" for this and took my first spinning class today. Somewhere in the bowels of hell one of Satan's evil minions is laughing as his invention's latest victim. The class lasts an hour--I lasted 30 minutes. The instructor advised Taz and I to "stay in the saddle" for numerous sessions until we got the hang of it. I've been doing a lot of hiking, so my legs did pretty well, and my heart and lungs were hanging in just fine at the 30 minute-mark. But, Jesus, Mary and Joseph--my lady-bits were screaming. And not in that good way, either. The instructor would tell us to keep our sit-bones on a certain part of the seat--but that only gave temporary relief.

Event is in late August--just before or after the Democratic Convention here in Denver. We only found out about it yesterday, so training is beginning a bit late in the game--but I'm going to give it a go.

We are Team Sarcasma.

Eat This

2008-06-18T20:21:00.003-06:00

Not sure why this is so funny to me, but it expresses a certain je ne sais quoi that a dog just couldn't get away with. Thanks, Natalie Dee.

Gratitude, Part 2

2008-06-17T21:37:00.004-06:00

We are inching toward the summer season here, at long last. I love it here this time of year! Only a few days ago it was still snowing in the mountains, and last weekend we had our first day where the temp reached the 9o's. But as hot as it can get during the day, the air is practically humidity-free and it cools down at night. Sophie and I just returned froma short after-dark stroll and it makes me want to put a hammock on my patio and sleep outside.

On an unrelated note--Soph and I are watching "Manufacturing Consent"--documentary about Noam Chomsky, and there is tape of Chomsky on a panel with an ancient Jean Piaget. Sipping some beverage out of a demitasse. Oh to be an aging, but respected public intellectual. I'm just aging.

Homophobes Given Another Reason To Hate California

2008-06-16T21:34:00.004-06:00

The California Supreme Court decision that struck down legislation prohibiting legal marriage between same-sex couples has made a lot of people happy. I recently "officiated" at a commitment ceremony for two wonderful friends, who happen to both be women. I hardly told anyone, primarily because I work with one of these friends and she is particuarly protective of their relationship and is careful with whom she shares details of her personal life. Even though the company I work for is considered very progressive and extends health insurance and other benefits to same-sex couples, there are individuals who would stand in judgment. I love my family, but had I told them, there would have ensued the rolling of the eyes and an expression of "first it was those two gay men in Dallas--now she's taken up with lesbians--where did things go SO WRONG?"

But here's who I was absoutely DYING to tell: members of former churches in which I was Spouse-In-Chief who would count this as absolute that I'm on the express Chattanooga Choo-Choo to hell.

It was a perfectly beautiful day and I'm still amazed when people find another person they could imagine being with for the rest of their lives. If Colorado ever follows California's lead (uh huh), perhaps we can do it again, and I can use the phrase "by the authority granted me by the State of Colorado." The ground down south underneath the Focus on the Family compound would surely tremble then. I'm sorry--but spending just one day tormenting religious fundamentalists just isn't nearly enough.

By the way, graphic above is from www.someecards.com

Politics of Weight Loss

2008-06-09T21:30:00.004-06:00

Let's face it--there's pretty much no more revered virtue in our society than being thin. A close second is if you're fat but in the process of losing weight. It is as though with every size I drop I'm saying to the world, "yes, I was fat! You were right all along! I have seen the light and am on my way to becoming healthier and more fuckable!" A couple of people at work who barely spoke to me previously (and likely couldn't tell you my name) have found it PERFECTLY acceptable to comment on the change in my appearance. I'm not talking about the encouragement that comes from family and friends who know how hard it can be. But somehow it is as if I'm not just healthier--but a better person overall.

So may I say--what a load of crap! There are numerous factors involved in my losing some serious weight--but none of of these involves my becoming a more virtuous person. If anything I'm crabbier due to pasta deprivation. God knows how anti-social I'll be once I've lost it all.

On an unrelated note--but a rant nonetheless--what the HELL is up with people who find it perfectly acceptable to let their dogs run off-leash willy-nilly??? So Sophie and I are on our way home after a perfectly lovely evening hike and this German Sheperd ignores the half-hearted pleas of his owner to return to her and makes a beeline for Soph. As I'm half-dragging my own dog away, I hear my fellow dog-owner bellow "Come" and inquired of the dog as to what her "problem" is. Stupid heifer.

I Have An Itch

2008-05-09T06:24:00.003-06:00

Pug courtesy of Natalie Dee.

Pedoeww

2008-05-05T21:38:00.004-06:00

A physician and a nurse I work with have a bet as to when the blackest of my toenails will fall off. The cut on the right foot was a result of opening a bottom file drawer without allowing sufficient clearance. So typical.

May Snow Day

2008-05-01T18:16:00.003-06:00

I've lived in Colorado for almost six years now, and it still feels surreal to have enjoyed temps in the upper 70's one day, then sit in a meeting at work the next and watch giant, wet flakes of snow fall the next. By the end of the meeting, everything was covered with snow, but it warmed up enough to melt off before I drove home.

Better workout today--no traumatic middle-school PE flashbacks. Hard work has benefits, but my body feels like I've been beaten about with a bat.

Spending the day tomorrow in a grant-writing workshop--perhaps I can find some money to pay for the violin lessons, a new hybrid, and office space for a think tank.

Gratitude Part 1

2008-04-29T20:42:00.003-06:00

Gratitude is, of course, a natural antidote to unrelenting cynicism. Life is only getting more complicated, and on days like today, I feel incredibly small and alone in the world. Wah. However, the few friends I have are true gifts. To those who are here and notice when I'm feeling deflated and take the time to remind me of connections, I thank you. To those I never get to see--I miss you.

Detachable Vagina

2008-03-31T20:41:00.002-06:00

A friend sent me this clip and I laughed because I recall having a conversation with some friends about how great this would be--especially when we had our periods. I wonder if Hillary Clinton would've had an easier time as a Senator and presidential candidate. I can just imagine her opening remarks at each debate. Moderator: "Senator Clinton, how do you answer your critics who say that his country is not ready for a woman President?" Hillary: "Well,Ted, it doesn't matter because my pussy is in a safe deposit box for the duration of this campaign, and it will remain there as long as I am President!"

Not a Great News Week for Dallas

2008-03-29T16:20:00.005-06:00

While driving to work earlier this last week, I heard a story on NPR about a "cheese" heroin epidemic among children in my old home town of Dallas. Drug treatment professionals must now ponder how to treat addicts as young as 9 years old (or even younger, probably). In Dallas anyway, known users are apparently predominantly Latino/Latina. However, I think the likely key word is "known". A police detective with Dallas Public Schools admitted that "this isn't a problem we can arrest ourselves out of." I wonder if he realizes that with that one sentence he acknowledged the futility of most state and federal illegal drug policy and enforcement.

In other news, I hear that results of the 2006 census showed that the Dallas-Ft. Worth metro area grew more than any other metropolitan area in the country--adding over 162,000 souls. One wonders where they all came from--and if they still think they made a good decision.

Equally and exceedingly more nauseating (but not too surprising) news is that a Dallas titty-bar will not be required to close its doors simply because underage girls as young as 12 perform there from time-to-time. Evidently the license of the Diamond Cabaret could potentially expire this November, but revocation at this point is only possible if "the club knowingly allows prostitution, the sale or use of drugs at the club, or if there are two convictions for sex-related crimes at the club within a 12-month period". Twisty says it better here.

In more local news for me--I recently started work on a committee at work charged with the task of writing an emergency-reponse plan for all of our clinical activities (read: everything). We are to "consider all hazards" including, but not limited to: a flu or SARS pandemic, a terrorist biological attack, other types of terrorist attacks (the Democratic National Convention is here in August, so thinking of worst-case scenarios for that is already underway), or contamination of the water supply (a legitimate concern considering the plight of our Alamosa neighbors to the south).

In more uplifting news, despite the fact that we could possibly still get a bit of snow and that it still gets down in the 30's at night, it looks like Spring has arrived here at last. Sophie found patches of green grass to pee on today and I could get away with wearing short-sleeves and sandals! Perhaps friends who anticipate onset of yet another Texas summer will consider the fabulousness that is a Colorado spring and summer--particularly those who may need time away from the prying eyes of the Ladies of Chador.

Tired

2008-03-22T10:07:00.015-06:00

toothpastefordinner.com

I keep hearing (and feeling too sometimes) of the "you've come a long way, baby" argument when talking and thinking about the place and role of women in American life and culture. Of course, this affirmation originated from a print ad campaign for Virginia Slims cigarettes which always depicted examples of ideal American femininity: slender, smiling, athletic, and sophisticated, but not so smart to figure out that smoking would eventually wreck their looks and give them lung cancer. In 1902, Susan B. Anthony wrote to Elizabeth Cady Stanton:

"It is fifty-one years since first we met and we have been busy through every one of them, stirring up the world to recognize the rights of women. The older we grow, the more keenly we feel the humiliation of disfranchisement and the more vividly we realize its disadvantages in
every department of life and most of all in the labor market. We little dreamed that when we began this contest, optimistic with the hope and buoyancy of youth, that half a century later we would be compelled to leave the finish of the battle to another generation of women. But our
hearts are filled with joy to know that they enter upon this task equipped with a college education, with business experience, with the fully admitted right to speak in public--all of which were denied to women fifty years ago. These strong, courageous, capable young women will take our place and complete our work. Ancient prejudice has become so softened, public sentiment
so liberalized and women have so thoroughly demonstrated their ability as to leave not a
shadow of doubt that they will carry our case to victory. "

I laughed at the thought of two 19th century women feeling so optimistic as to think their "contest" would finish in their generation. There have been "strong, courageous, capable" women who have worked hard to further "soften" and liberalize public sentiment and while I'm usually grateful for "how far we've come" I have little hope that things will advance beyond my own "blessings of liberty" and be different for women of my niece's generation. Yes, I was able to vote for a woman in the recent primary, and may yet still have the chance to vote for her in the general election for President, but the contest between HIllary Clinton and Barak Obama has painfully shown that while public expression of racial prejudice and hatred must be unspoken or at least successfully masked, hatred of women may be expressed with impunity. I'm tired, heartbroken and discouraged by this. Last night ABC and 20/20 devoted TWO HOURS of airtime to the subject of prostitution in America. Let's talk about the sad, misbegotten lives of these whores (this word wasn't used but implied of course) but let us not talk about the overall patriarchial political and economic frame that really places ultimately all women as members of the sex class. We just don't all work on the Vegas Strip or at the Bunny Ranch.

Everyone is talking about Barak Obama's speech last week about race--when will Hillary talk about gender? Without doubt she is one of those next generation women that Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton envisoned, but she could also tell them from personal experience that hatred of women didn't go away when women got the vote, when more of us started going to college and/or postponing marriage and childrearing (or eschewing one or both altogether), when more of us became politicians, doctors, lawyers, astronauts, pilots, ministers, and officers in the military. All those advances just made them hate us more. She'll never speak of it as the only thing more unpalatable to many Americans than actually having a woman President is one that talks about how women are still an oppressed class in our culture. So what can I do now to try and help my now 9-year old niece prepare for the obstacles she will have to overcome?

How Much Do You Love America?

2008-03-15T21:26:00.003-06:00

I'd meant to throw out some thoughts about Peggy Noonan's recent column (actually a couple of weeks ago now) in The Wall St. Journal in which she begrudgingly acknowledges Barak Obama's ability to draw and then wow a crowd, but dismisses others' attributions of eloquence. She states that "with Mr. Obama, the deep thought part is missing." "He doesn't unpack his thoughts" but rather "asserts and keeps on walking." Now, I find this humorous as her former and now dead boss could indeed turn a phrase (that someone else had written for him) but failed to impress a broad spectrum of people as to his ability to unpack anything, much less thought.

At any rate, Ms. Noonan's true point seems to be in suggesting that Barak and Michelle Obama are really just two highly educated, wealthy, connected, (and possibly snobbish) white people whose skin color happens to be black and who, from the "liberal cocoon" they were raised in are likely woefully out of touch with the daily realities of most Americans. Are they any different from Bill and Hillary, the ultimate "cosseted yuppies"? Quelle horreur! It would seem that perhaps the Obama's are "more inspired by abstractions like international justice than by old visions of American as the city on a hill." Peggy Noonan takes issues with Michelle Obama's recent comment that "for the first time" in her life she is proud of her country. See, Mrs. Obama has enjoyed such privilege that she doesn't have the proper appreciation or an "old-fashioned love for America" in the way that some "working-class Americans" who were "raised by a TV and a microwave and love our country anyway, every day, do.

However, I thought about this idea again yesterday, during a required "Let's Talk Diversity" class at work. I was a bit surprised when the facilitator began talking about white privilege and handed out the questionnaire that Peggy McIntosh developed--one could practically hear the sound of defensive white sphincters contracting. One of my coworkers was offended by the idea that different groups enjoy different aspects of privilege in this country. It is so negative to talk in these terms. After all, we have a woman AND a black man running for President. Isn't this evidence of how far we've come? Why can't we focus on the positive! Well, golly gee, Wally.

Perhaps Ms. Noonan feels that the Obama's haven't enough performed enough public patriotic genuflecting to those "old-fashioned" values and priorities of white Christian America. She asks, "if America's leaders don't love America tenderly, who will?" How do you love America, hum?

Colorado Human Life Amendment

2008-02-28T18:47:00.002-07:00

In 1992, Colorado became known as "The Hate State" after voters approved Amendment 2, which banned any law offering protection for employment discrimination based upon sexual orientation and was later overtuned by the Supreme Court. The 6th district of Colorado elected Tom Tancredo, Congress' most famous xenophobe, and the good people in Colorado's 4th district saw fit to send Marilyn Musgrave to Congress. She works hard for her constituents--that is if they are White, heterosexual, and conservative evangelical Christian. And then of course we have James Dobson and Focus on the Family.

Which is why it is not surprising that Colorado voters may have to decide about the Colorado Human Life Amendment--which would grant the same legal protections some Americans enjoy--to a fertilized egg. Mike Huckabee has of course endorsed the measure, saying that "Colorado has an opportunity to send a clear message that every human life has value." That is, unless you are a woman. Huckabee added that "passing this amendment will mean the people of Colorado will protect the sanctity of life from conception until natural death occurs." So does this mean the people of Colorado will start being more concerned about the number of Coloradoans who do not have access to decent health care, safe housing, or food? Actually, I think the definition of "sanctity of life" to Huckabee et al, is limited to existing only. Sanctity has actually little or nothing to do with quality of life.

If this affront to the innate value, sanctity, rights and freedoms of individual women is passed and becomes law in Colorado, it will be quite interesting to see how appellate "originalist" judges like Scalia and Thomas come down on a law that would have absolutely no Constitutional basis. whatsoever.

2008-01-30T18:41:00.000-07:00

Artwork by Natalie Dee.

It is probably just as well I did not have children.

Clinic Sunday

2008-01-27T22:00:00.000-07:00

I hate being sick, and I usually deny it until feverish delirium sets in or I cannot travel beyond a 18" radius of the toilet. About half-way during "There Will Be Blood", I started shivering from the cold and as the credits were rolling, my friend looks at me askance and asserts that it isn't cold in the theatre. I figured all I needed was a restorative steaming and spicy bowl of pho, but but the time I got home and dug out my old-fashioned mercury filled thermometer, I had a 102.5 temperature. Anyway, I dragged my feverish ass to the urgent clinic this morning and got sent home with a heavy duty antibiotic. I was even offered cough syrup with coedine--which for some reason I declined. Now if there's such a thing as cough syrup with percocet...

Anyway, the real purpose here is to vent my frustrating encounter with my employer and health insurance provider. I arrive with a fever, horrible headache and ear aches, disturbing cough, and my throat so raw and tight I can barely speak above a whisper. It is a Sunday morning, and it is quite clear why I'm there. The nurse who checks me in does the requisite blood pressure, weight check, pulse and taking of the temperature. She then starts asking me when was the last time I had a pap smear and mammogram. Now, my employer and health care provider as spent over a BILLION dollars on an electronic medical record system, which I use myself on a daily basis to reference patient charts (I'm forbidden to access my own). But I knew that all this nurse had to do was hit a button and she could clearly see that I had a pap smear less than 3 months ago, and that I'm overdue for a mammogram. So I get a mini-lecture on the importance of mammography--how early detection can SAVE LIVES! Really? I'd never heard that! She seemed reassured that I do routine self-exams and am scheduled for a mammogram soon. All of this while I'm staring at her glassy-eyed and hacking up orange phlegm. She then notices my neck scar and asks about my thyroid. After I mention that she should be able to find my latest TSH levels under the flowsheet section of my chart, a light goes on in her head and she figures out I must be familiar with the system. What do I do? Well, I'm a social worker in palliative care. "I LOVE SOCIAL WORKERS" she gushes and goes on and on about how angelic we are to so unselfishly devote ourselves to the betterment of ALL MANKIND. All of this before I've been able to see the freakin' doctor--the one with the DRUGS. I don't remember if I said anything about the fact I'm an anti-social social worker or not, but she finally hustled out of there and finally saw the doctor, for whom I had to describe my symptoms and their onset for the THIRD damn time since I'd walked in the building.

So I'm sorry this is the first post after a rather long haitus, but I needed to post something new, and this is as good as it gets today.

Oh, and by the way--Daniel Day Lewis is beautiful and amazing.

Friday bugs

2007-12-07T06:22:00.001-07:00

Long-time favorite

Spider Tests

2007-12-03T17:43:00.000-07:00

What's Opera, Doc?

2007-11-30T19:16:00.001-07:00

To Have A Spear and Magic Helmet

Thanksgiving Leftovers

2007-11-25T18:51:00.000-07:00

One major holiday down, one to go. The attached photo of Sophie sums up how we spent a portion of our down-time.

Off to New Orleans tomorrow for work--am going with mixed feelings as it is the first time I've been since Katrina.

Somehow.....this summer

2007-11-04T21:41:00.000-07:00

Because It Isn't Enough Just HAVING Breast Cancer...

2007-10-30T06:13:00.000-06:00

Ford Motor Company, in concert with the Susan B. Komen foundation (natch) is "powering" the "Warrors in Pink" campaign, featuring American Idol Kelly Clarkson. So while you are receiving chemo infusions, pulling chunks of your hair out and otherwise just feeling like shit, you can "rock the cause" like the true pink warrior you're supposed to be. Like Kelly, you can wear your rockin' Warrior gear, and imagine the day that your hair will grow out think and full again and blow seductively like Kelly's--all while rockin' the cure, baby! You can "wear it straight up or rock it. Either way, you can rock the world!"

This is a campaign for Breast Cancer awareness. Which means that the money dumped for all this pink crap goes toward manufacturing more pink crap, including those annoying giant pink ribbons that adorn buildings during Breast Cancer Awareness Month. The website states that 100% of proceeds goes to the Susan B. Komen foundation. What I'd like to know is what percentage of that actually goes to research. Greater awareness, the story goes, increases the rates of early detection--but I wonder if there has been a randomized controlled trial that shows that wearing a Warrior Hoody or sending Yoplait stick pink yogurt lids has actually been a statistically significant factor in higher rates of early detection.

I think of the breast cancer patients who have come through our program--like the 42 year-old whose main goal was to have her pain managed without becoming too sedated so that she can still communicate with her 10 year-old daughter. When I think of patients like her, and see this Warrior Rockin The Cure shit--it makes me a bit crazy. When Barbara Ehrenreich wrote her piece for Harper's--"Welcome to Cancerland", I wonder if she had any idea things would get to Warriors in Pink--Powered by Ford. Because Ford Cares. If you have never read Barbara's piece, you can do so here.

Have a great day everyone. I'm off to test-drive a new Warrior Mustang.

The End Is Near (Again)

2007-10-27T16:42:00.000-06:00

Last night my brother, sister-in-law and mother (along with several hundred others) attended a lecture by someone named Joel Rosenberg, a Messianic Jew, best-selling author (Tom Clancy meets Tim LaHaye) and celebrity eschatological swami beloved by the likes of Rush Limbag and Sean Hannity. Afterwards, I inquired about the lecture (e.g. was there any rubbing of a crystal ball involved, etc.) and the summing up involved the following: "of course there is no claim that anyone truly knows the exact time when the Lord will come back." My response of "but why not sell a few hundred thousand books off a gullible public in the meantime" was met with a disgusted harrumphing, a "you're so cynical" with a side order of glare for good measure.

Normally, and for good reason, that would've been the end of my curiosity about Joel Rosenberg. This isn't a blog-rant about why smart people like my aforementioned family members would find this sort of thing worth their time. I'm more than adequately accustomed to their exasperation with my unabating cynicism and my tendency to be pretty pissed off a good deal of the time (although I'm not like that at work or with other people in my life--I wonder why that is?). Many Christians have been curious about/obsessed with "the end times" for a very long time, and modest fortunes have been made by those deluded and ego-centric enough to suggest that he or she had discovered the eschatalogical equivalent of the Rosetta Stone. My pastor-ex-husband used to avoid asking parishoners what they'd like to hear from him about as inevitably someone would request an indepth exegesis on Revelation. Cue yawn.

I won't be able to contain my sudden interest in this topic with one post, so I'll end this one with the following questions that are on my mind today:

1) Why doesn't anyone ever suggest that the Anti-Christ could be an American? In my mind--there are some pretty strong contenders:

2) Apparently Mr. Rosenberg's primary sage advice for those worried that the world will end before the Rockies have a few more chances to win the World Series is this: pray for peace and prepare for war ("oh Lord please help the US kick some Islamic ass). My reponse to this is "whaaa?"

3) Rosenberg mentions that conspiciously absent in the cast of characters involved in the War of Gog and Magog is Iraq and Egypt. I wonder how he would classify the absence of......China?

Next time: The Geography of Gog and Magog.

And So It Begins...

2007-10-21T19:06:00.000-06:00

No Genius Here

2007-09-25T22:16:00.000-06:00

Another year has gone by........without being chosen for a MacArthur Genius Grant.

Too Much Time On His Hands, Or Clever and Creative? You Decide.

2007-08-31T20:45:00.000-06:00

Someone by the name of Reverend Brendan Powell Smith has taken the time to recreate stories from the Bible completely in Legos. So far, my favorites are how Moses and the Hebrews escape from Egypt, Paul's exhortations about marriage and proper deportment for Christian women, and the desert trial and temptation of Jesus.

Shorter John Eldridge: Nice Guys Not Only Finish Last, But They're Less-Than-Godly Pansies Too.

2007-08-30T18:35:00.001-06:00

Regular readers here have not likely heard of John Eldridge, best-selling Christian author and genius behind revolutionary new theory of human (and by human, he mainly means men) development. Normally I remain out of the loop about stuff like this, but several important men in my life have either embraced and/or opened their minds to this misogynistic and paternalistic view of the world--repackaged as a way for men to reassert their "wild hearts" (as the heart of God himself is "wild") while asserting all the benefits of male privilege and the more natural submissive position of women.

You see, the modern church has turned Christian men into a punch of overly sensitive, pussy-whipped sensitivoes like Mr. Rogers, where the true model of a Christian manly man is William Wallace (as portrayed by Mr. Manly himself, Mel Gibson, in Braveheart). Bitchy hairy-legged and overly independent feminists have spoiled everyone's fun---what with their pesky tendency to demand things like control of their own bodies and equal protection under the law. So here are the developmental differences:

Men pass through several bibically based stages in life: 1) boyhood; 2) cowboy; 3) warrior; 4) king; and 5) sage. Women, not surprisingly, want and need to know they are desired. While men want to paint their faces, grunt and tear other men from limb to limb, women want to be pursued and fought for. Men watch "Lord of the Rings" and "Gladiator." Women bond while watching "Sense and Sensibilities" and "Sleepless in Seattle." Women are the ballroom dancer who enjoys following the man's lead, and becomes more beautiful in the process! Like magic! Women are the responder to the man's sexual prowess. A woman's need for control is born out of....you guessed it....fear.

None of this claptrap is new, nor is it limited to a the world view of this particular flavor of Christianity. but I wonder if Mr. Eldridge has actually read the New Testament, in particular the teachings of Jesus?

Free Bryce!

2007-08-26T21:10:00.000-06:00

I realize that this writer occasionally opines on the subject of children--and usually not that positively. This post is no exception--so you have been warned. Although, this really speaks more those challenged adults who felt confident enough in their parenting skills to inflict the products of such misguided thinking on the rest of us.

Saturday morning, after having a relaxing morning I headed out for some power shopping with two primary goals in mind: 1) floor lamp, and; 2) new bed for the guest room. I'm in Lamps Plus five minutes or so when I hear a thump, then a crash, then a shrill voice that I'm sure Sophie can hear back at home imploring an obstreperous delinquent by the name of "Bryce" to pull it together, shut up, and act his age. I'm always struck by what many parents today are willing to put up with. One thump, much less a crash, and my happy ass would've been ordered outside to sit and wait. But no. All of us in the store were regaled alternately by pleading ("I'm just trying to pick out some cool lighting for your room" ) to shaming ("I'm so embarassed for you--a boy your age acting like this"). Now, by this time, my allegiance had switched to Bryce. I wondered if his acting this way was a cry for help--a deliberate attempt to push his mother over the edge so that he could be rescued by a relative whose voice didn't cause coyotes to weep. This woman clearly had lost any sense that there were other people in the store who could hear her futile screeching. Now, I know people who know the challenges inherent in taking children out in public and would' ve tsked disapprovingly in Bryce's direction--understanding the frustration that Bryce's mother was feeling. However, why is it I have a strong hunch that Bryce's behavior in Lamps Plus that day is part of a giant chicken coming home to roost in a nest built by Medusa?

Later same day....I'm loading Sophie in the truck when I look across the parking lot and see a lone toddler--maybe 3-4 years old, standing on a curb only inches from being in a busy parking lot. Parking lot is relatively quiet, but I start to walk across in case I need to snatch her out of harm's way. Suddenly a voice from somewhere yells "TAMRA--don't you dare step off that curb--don't make me come out there!" Tamra promptly steps into the street and at any minute I expect to see a panicked parent come running. Instead, The Voice tells someone to "go get your sister out of the street." Mere moments later an older boy comes out, picks up Tamra and disappears back into some apartment.

And still later the same day... I'm leaving my mother's house and I pass a man riding a bicycle. He has all the required accessories, including a helmet. But, he also has a small child riding on his shoulders--with no helmet. So, the one who is clearly already brain damaged wears the helmet and leaves the child open to serious injury should he lose control of the bike and drop her. What the hell???

And yes, still later...I get in the drive-thru queue at Wendy's to get a Diet Coke and in front of me is a mini-van with a licence plate frame that informed disterested people that someone associated with said van is an alumni of Brigham Young University. I'll admit my brain fetched the most easily accessible stereotype and I muttered to myself that that van was probably full of more children. A fatherly head sticks out from said van and yells into the drive-thru ordering-thing: "We need 5 junior cheeseburgers, 3 orders 99 cent chicken nuggets, 6 orders of fries, 1 grilled chicken sandwich, 5 small Sprites, 2 large diet Cokes and 2 large Frostys." At this point, no one had misbehaved and I'd heard only the sound of a father ordering dinner, but I couldn't fathom a scenario in which my quest for a simple diet Coke might be thwarted by a missing order of nuggets or a burger that had an unwelcome addition of mustard. So, as no one was behind me, I backed up and out of the line, and drove straight home.

Culture and a Dog's Life

2007-08-21T18:31:00.000-06:00

Because I am a football fan as well as a dog lover, I've followed the Michael Vick/dogfighting story beyond my usual news sources of NPR, etc. There are some fellow athletes as well as sports fans who have come out in support of Vick--some asserting that there is unfair attention paid to a rich black athlete who is only one of thousands of people who participate in dogfighting, and others crying foul because dogfighting is actually a "sport" that is rooted in cultural traditions. Well, slavery was rooted in cultural tradition too.

The Atlanta chapter of the NAACP has urged the NFL to not abandon Vick, but to allow him to return to his job as Falcon's quarterback after he serves his prison sentence. I personally think his NFL career is likely over, but whether or not he has a job after he does his time is really not an issue. What I want to know is what possesses any person to participate in such an activity? Even if someone were not to gain pleasure from watching two dogs wound and sometimes kill each other, what kind of person can look on such a thing and not be repulsed? There is something fundamentally flawed in the soul of such a person.

Addendum:

I should clarify that Michael Vick's employment status post-pokey isn't an issue for me. He'll be a millionaire many times over even if he has to give back his 20+ million signing bonus and part of his salary. I'll admit that my initial reaction to his particular story is a wish that he would be publicly humiliated, shamed and stripped of any football past or future glory. The humiliation part is well on its way and as I said before, his football career is likely over, especially as it appears that the players union is not doing to to defend him. I hope he does jail time, and I hope he receives mental health care to address that warped part of his spirit that found it acceptable to burn and hang dogs who didn't successfully rip another dog from limb to limb. But should he be denied the opportunity to return to work...to life...after doing his time? Some team owners wouldn't touch him with a 10-foot pole (it doesn't help that the brillance of his college play didn't exactly translate to the NFL anyway), but he shouldn't completely dispair. If it helped Jerry Jones get another Superbowl ring, Jerry would probably hire him if he'd killed his own mother.

Speaking of feeling sick...

2007-08-20T21:16:00.000-06:00

I'm not sure I've ever met anyone who better personifies over-privilege (spoiled), a sense of entitlement, and obeisance to American consumer culture. You have the balls to lecture my sister about the perils (to my 4-year old nephew) of dating a man who is not a Christian--this after having the gall to refer to certain people as trash. Did I really, truly, hear you laughingly (jokingly, I'm sure you'd say) suggest that the US "trade" with Mexico by this country accepting with open arms all of the hard-working Mexicans while sending Mexico all of the "white and black trash" who "do not like to work."

I'm embarassed for you--for your pseudo-intellectual preening and for your assumption that the world exists to help maintain your privileged status. You need to know that no one is really that impressed. You need to know that the attitude you and your wife project is one of disdain for those who do not fit neatly w/in the realm of what is hip, cool, and $$$. If this projection is not truly a reflection of what you think--then you need to check it.

I'm just still really pissed about your "trash" comment and it is making me mad about everything else. Grow up, please.

I Threw Up A Little In My Mouth This Morning When I Read This...

2007-08-13T07:18:00.000-06:00

Even back in the days when the ex and I were in Ft. Worth and he was attending Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, the joke was that many of the women enrolled there in order to earn their MRS. It wasn't completely unfounded--I knew more than a handful of women who met their husbands there and then dropped out themselves to marry and become an incubator. However, here is the latest from the mind of someone born from the shallow end of the intellectual gene pool.

Not surprisingly, this new degree program is a bachelor's degree--let's get those young women in here fresh out of their home schooling/Christian private school programs before they have a chance to go to college and be corrupted by more learnin'!

This makes me physically ill. Pardon me while I go puke. AAAUUUUUUUGHGGHHHHHH!

Freedom's Just Another Word for Childlessness

2007-08-06T19:44:00.000-06:00

Last night on "60 Minutes" Morley Schaefer interviewed Dame Helen Mirren. I've always found her pretty fabulous, but I wanted to cheer at the following (not necessarily verbatim--I wasn't taking notes) exchange:

MS: "Do you ever regret not having children?"

HM: "No, never"

MS: (faintly surprised facial expression) "Really? Why?"

HM: "Because it has given me freedom".

I suspect it is safe to say that most women either become, or want to become, mothers. But it is so refreshing to hear a famous woman talk about the real reason for childlessness that so may are afraid to admit out loud (and perhaps even to themselves).

Moving Day

2007-07-19T20:01:00.000-06:00

I worked 4-10 hour days this week so that I can take off tomorrow and move my junk from my hated Hooterville abode to my new place that while in one of those generic, soulless, cookie-cutter apartment complexes (uh, sorry, apartment homes), it appears to be quite the step-up from whence I came. However, I have this unwelcome feeling of dread that the sword of Damocles is hanging over my head and it could be that unbeknownst to me a noisy family of 6 will be my upstairs neighbors or that the water is so hard it will turn my dishes and clothes orange. I mean, what does it mean when the leasing agent conveniently told me after I'd signed the lease that some residents run some orange kool-aid through their machines now and then? I may be repeating this exercise sooner rather than later.

Nonetheless, I look forward to no longer seeing my neighbor who drives around in his giant Ford with giant confederate flags flapping in the breeze whilst his horn blares out "Dixie." I will not miss the totally clueless perenially out-of-work guy who likes to race his very loud toy cars out in the parking lot at 2 am. I will not miss my downstairs neighbor who yells obscenities at his wife and I will not miss the 4 barely out of adolescence men-children who live across the hall and play Metallica a stadium-level sound. And, I will not miss dealing with an apartment office staff that can most diplomatically be described as "charm-free."

I will however, miss the trees and my view of downtown from my balcony. I hope the change will do me good.

Lady Bird

2007-07-13T20:15:00.000-06:00

If you will allow me a deviation from my tendency to avoid sentimentality.........

When people ask me where I'm from--originally--I truthfully answer "Dallas, Texas." However, the majority of my tender formative years were spent in the Texas Hill Country in a town that I couldn't wait to get out of. The recent flooding, and now the death of Lady Bird Johnson has brought back many memories. I was told that two of the fatalities from flooding were the parents of a boy I went to school with. I hadn't thought about him in many, many years. In many ways he and I were typical band geeks, although I was less reviled by the "popular" kids for some reason. In our town, if you were male, not particularly good-looking, and especially if you weren't athletic, you were at high risk of being labeled "fag" or "fairy." I don't know whatever happened to him--he graduated a year before me and got the hell outta Dodge. But hearing about his parents, and thinking about him brought back memories of why I hated small-town living.

However, I must confess that I have more pleasant memories when I think of Lady Bird Johnson. Whatever anyone would say about LBJ and his legacy as President, and whatever the reality is, I will forever associate Lady Bird Johnson with the things I love about Texas, and happier times growing up. The Johnson ranch was less than 20 miles from my town and very close by, if not actually part of the ranch that became a state park, was a large public swimming pool. My mother would pack my brother, sister and I in the Ford station wagon and go--often spending an entire afternoon. It was always blistering hot and there was a very intimidating diving board--off of which I experienced my first "belly-buster." I also remember hearing my grandmother talk about how "gracious" Lady Bird was, how she was a model of what was accepted as true Texas feminity--keep your chin up, your liptstick fresh and a scarf to keep your hairdo intact. All while standing by your man, and especially if you're watching your man take the Presidential oath of office while the recently widowed Jackie Kennedy stands nearby in shock in her blood-soaked pink suit. However, for many people like me, Lady Bird is most remembered for her love of flowers and her work to beautify Texas highways. I always associate the Bluebonnet and Indian Paintbrush with her and remember certain times of the year that you could drive and see fields and fields of these flowers. There is a famous photograph of Lady Bird, taken by Dennis Fagan, that makes me very sentimental for the Texas I prefer to remember. I'll not post it here, but will provide a link.

When I heard she'd died, I suddenly craved the sound of my own grandmother's voice.

For My Friend Who Has Never Seen The Simpsons!

2007-07-13T06:15:00.000-06:00

Catholic and Protestant Heaven

2007-07-12T20:39:00.001-06:00

Scooter Libby And Others Thankful For Not Being Chinese

2007-07-10T17:44:00.000-06:00

So China is executing corrupt government officials now? Yan Jiangying, deputy policy director of the State Food and Drug Administration referred to the "shame" that Zheng Xiaoyu and other corrupt officials had brought on their country.

There is no shame in being corrupt in this country anymore. Inconvenience, yes, and sometimes expensive and a career-ender, but shame? Not so much. In fact, sometimes it is downright profitable and can be a ticket to high office.

Are Children an Oppressed Class?

2007-07-02T17:46:00.000-06:00

For those of you who have heard me complain about unpleasant encounters with ill-mannered children and parents who believe the world owes them a favor for procreating, I provide a link to an interesting discussion about feminism and children over at I Blame The Patriarchy. I'm particularly pondering one commenter's suggestion that my annoyance about such children and parents is itself a product of the patriarchy. Thoughts?

On a side note, I provide photos of one of my favorite recent Hawaii moments. This was taken at the Panalu'u Black Sand Beach on the southern coast of the Big Island. The black sand here results from the collision of hot lava with the cooler ocean, and the lava shatters into tiny bits. These bits are futher weathered by the ocean into the black sand. Absolutely beautiful.

Big Island

2007-06-12T16:26:00.000-06:00

Fin

2007-05-29T16:33:00.001-06:00

Today I attended my final class, presented my research and turned in my final paper, and thus my days as a carefree graduate student come to an end. For this degree at least.

Only a couple of weeks before I once again join the working class.

Eddie Saturday

2007-05-26T16:25:00.000-06:00

Historical Disbelief

2007-05-08T17:56:00.000-06:00

I am admittedly out of the loop in many arenas right now, but I hadn't heard of the series "A Brief History of Disbelief", that originally aired on the BBC in 2005. Evidently it has had a bit of trouble making its way across the pond, and you'll be shocked to hear that opposition to the program is being voiced by the usual suspects--Family Research Council, and People for the American Way.

I have no idea if the program is even worth my time (although Bill Moyers interviewed the series creator), but when the pearl-clutchers start frettting, then it is at least worth checking out. I read about this here. I've e-mailed my local PBS station to find out if/when the program would be aired, and was told that it is currently not on the schedule, but that doesn't mean it will not air in the future.

In other and completely unrelated news..... a Ted Haggard follow-up.

My Kind of Parkour

2007-05-03T23:09:00.000-06:00

Check it out.

Map Story

2007-04-30T22:22:00.000-06:00

I'd never heard of the Waldseemüller map--a 1507 map by cartographer Martin Waldseemüller, that is supposedly the earliest map that refers to "America." The Library of Congress purchased the map several years ago, but Angela Merkl is set to officially "hand over" the map to the LOC, while she's in D.C. (and probably hoping she won't get felt up by GW).

Anyway, NPR had a piece about the map on All Things Considered today, but here is also a link to more background about the map.

Interesting.

Happy Ending in 30 Minutes or Less.....or Pizza is Free!

2007-04-29T11:10:00.000-06:00

U.S. Deputy Secretary of State Randall Tobias, in the media frenzy accompanying the revelation that *gasp* a powerful White guy paid for sex apparently thinking he'd be able to do so without anyone ever finding out, didn't take time to think about how his reaction would reveal his misogyny. Apparently, he equates his careless fondness for take-out sex with "ordering a pizza".

This is particularly curious as Dear Leader appointed Tobias to oversee administration AIDS policy and demanded that any group that received government "anti-AIDS" funds (what exactly does that mean, I wonder?) also take a "anti-prostitution loyalty oath"--that prostitution is "inherently harmful and dehumanizing". Tobias has also defended himself by pointing to his oversight of programs designed to help "men and boys develop healthy relationships with women." Nice. How about programs designed to help women realize just how much men truly hate them?

2007-04-24T07:56:00.000-06:00

T.S. Eliot (1922)

The Waste Land

I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm' aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in winter.

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der heimat zu
Mein Irisch kind,
Wo weilest du?
"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;"
"They called me the hyacinth girl."
--Yet when we came back, late, from the hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Öd' und leer das Meer.

Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Has a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor.
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something that he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself;
One must be so careful these days.

Unreal City
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet,
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying, "Stetson!
You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,
Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!
You! hypocrite lecteur!--mon semblable!--mon frère!"

2007 Pulitzer--Feature Photography

2007-04-23T21:35:00.000-06:00

This year's Pulitzer Prize winner for Feature Photography was won by Renee C. Byer of the Sacramento Bee for her series of photographs featuring a 10-year old boy dying of cancer, and his mother. Here is a link to the series, but I would urge that if you look at them, you do so when you are in a place to cry, if you need to. I frequently rage about senseless loss of life, but I am humbled when I am reminded about the magnitude of suffering that many, many people experience and then must absorb as part of continuing life.

I realize my more recent posts have been from an angry and very sad side--and it is with some reluctance that I provide a link to these photographs. However, I found them to be very moving, and for me, they provided a link back to that part of me that still belives human beings have a real capacity for compassion, devotion, and pure love.

Overpowering Gun-Wielding Madmen for Dummies

2007-04-23T09:49:00.000-06:00

I'd been ignoring reports of certain pundits publicly speculating as to why no one at Virginia Tech made the decision to recreate the heroics of Flight 93 ("Let's Roll!) and rush to disarm the gunman. One such pundit wondered why there was no apparent "spirit of self-defense".

I had dinner with my folks a couple of nights ago, and we started talking about this. I was rather surprised to hear that apparently he and my brother had wondered about the same thing, and before I knew it I was hearing their assertion that perhaps letting everyone carry a gun anywhere is indeed a good idea. I grew up, to some extent, around guns. My father owned more than a few and he even gave me a few shooting lessons. He would hunt now and then, but his guns were always kept in a locked storeroom and other than when he'd go hunting (which wasn't often), we'd never see them. I never heard my parents talk about the need to have a gun around for self-defense. They chuckled when their liberal daughter reacted in the expected way to Dad's suggestion that he teach my two nephews (but not my niece, interestingly enough) how to shoot.

I'm accustomed to feeling odd-woman out when it comes to certain discussions in my family, but I was actually a bit surprised to hear them affirming the NRA party line. So, am I just completely out of touch with this? Colorado, like my home state of Texas, is big on guns, and so God only knows how many people I come in contact with at the grocery store, the post office, etc., who are packing heat. Would this really make me safer in case some deranged person decides to shoot up the produce section at Safeway while I'm picking out tomatoes? I'm wondering also--if the armed forces of the United States, with their sophisticated war machines cannot prevent our soldiers from being killed from "friendly fire", how on earth is the average citizen going to be protected from a Dirty Harry wannabee standing in line at the post office?

So here's a interesting piece from The Explainer at Slate.com. If you're already up on just what to do when facing the possibility of being attacked by a grizzly bear or a mountain lion, then make sure you'd be prepared to know when to fight or fly from a crazy person with a gun.

Prettiness

2007-04-17T19:49:00.000-06:00

I regret to say that I wasn't shocked when I heard about the mass murder at Virginia Tech. Grieved, yes, but when in class today and yesterday, I noticed that other people expressed sadness, but everyone seems rather inured to this kind of violence. The flags to go half-mast, the 24 hour news cycle minions go into hyperdrive, George Bush goes on television to express the grief of a nation (but no pondering of why this never happens in say....France, or U.K.), and the requisite parading of testimonials from people who, in the midst of their trauma, are able to spare a few minutes for Good Morning, America. I predict that eventually Oprah will have survivors and parents of victims on her show, that there will be a moment of silence on "Dancing With The Stars", and that there will be an episode of "Law and Order" eerily reminiscent of the VT massacre. This senseless tragedy is made more wretched by media's scripted tragi-tainment that now inevitably follows such an event.

I heard that at today's memorial service, one of the speakers repeated "We will prevail" numerous times which was followed by chanting of "Let's go, Hokies!" If that actually comforted people, then who am I to argue--but I can't help but wonder when people will tire of finding comfort from platitudes delivered by a disingenuous President who serves the gun lobby and admit the outrageous reality that had this young man not had such easy access to a firearm, most or all of his victims would still be alive today.

*****

Well, I'd intended to only mention a few thoughts re the VT tragedy and point out that while people are mourning these losses, the media has taken the time to point out that John Edwards is sort of a girly-man when it comes to his hair. CNN pointed out that "looking pretty" is helping to deplete Edwards' campaign bank account. Not "handsome", but "pretty". Would other male candidate's grooming proclivities ever be described by the more feminine-sounding "pretty?" Did Ann Coulter contribute to this piece?

Connecticut Residents Testify Against Human-Dolphin Marriage

2007-04-11T17:05:00.000-06:00

Just in time for them to testify against proposed legislation that would legalize same-sex marriage in Connecticut, certain Mensa member residents mounted these intellectually rigorous objections to sex, particularly sex between women and dolphins. For the destruction of American society and the institution of marriage, you can blame abortion, homosexuality, contraception, fornication, defiance of natural law, and a little somethin' called cultural warming. Hi-larious.

I swear, if I'm ever called upon to testify before any legislative body, I'm going to wear a bag over my head in case I say something stupid and it gets posted on YouTube.

Giant Muffins

2007-04-09T15:26:00.000-06:00

I've never really understood the appeal of muffins the size of my head, but this postcard I found over at PostSecret made me laugh remembering the crazy-ass stuff my ex-mother-in-law used to buy me.

Everyone's Favorite Xenophobe

2007-04-02T17:38:00.000-06:00

...has just announced his candidate for the presidency.

He has to be from somewhere I guess, but unfortunately he was awarded a congressional salary and benefits by a group of voters in Colorado's 6th Congressional District.

He's all for building the giant wall between the U.S. and Mexico (but not Canada?), and the two biggest threats to the U.S. are"the act of immigration combined with the cult of multiculturalism." "We will never be able to win in the clash of civilizations if we don't know who we are. If Western civilization succumbs to the siren song of multiculturalism, I believe we are finished.”

Colorado is so proud.

Speaking of Assaults to Sensibilities....

2007-03-30T21:24:00.000-06:00

How can anyone think a chocolate jesus is any more offensive than this:

Wailing and Ganach-ing of Teeth

2007-03-30T20:00:00.000-06:00

Naturally, when I hear the words "chocolate Jesus" and "Christian sensibilities" together, I just have to check it out. Turns out while I've been toiling away in school and internship, some blasphemous creative type carved a nekkid Jesus out of chocolate. Not since a former office-mate cried foul when Baby Jesus was replaced with a Tootsie Roll in her desktop nativity set has such sacrilege been perpetrated. Hailed as "one of the greatest assults on Christian sensibilities EVER (emphasis mine)" by Bill Donohue, himself one of the greatest assaults on rational sensibilities ever, the chocolate work was scheduled to be on display in a Manhattan gallery. It was scheduled, but has now been canceled following a religious candy fatwa issued by Donohue and Cardinal Egan. I guess I just wish that Christian sensibilities were offended to greater degree by assaults on human dignity such as war, poverty, and GW having the gall to salute the Tuskegee Airmen.

I couldn't help but think of Tom Waits' Chocolate Jesus:

When the weather gets rough
And its whiskey in the shade
Its best to wrap your savior
Up in cellophane
He flows like the big muddy
But thats ok
Pour him over ice cream
For a nice parfait

Well its got to be a chocolate jesus
Good enough for me
Got to be a chocolate jesus
Good enough for me

Well its got to be a chocolate jesus
Make me feel good inside
Got to be a chocolate jesus
Keep me satisfied

Politics and Breast Cancer

2007-03-24T13:12:00.000-06:00

I was saddened to hear that Elizabeth Edwards is dealing with news that her breast cancer has returned and has metastasized. However, I have mixed feelings about how public discussion is currently centered around how her Stage IV metastatic breast cancer may be regarded as controllable. The article linked above offers potential medical interventions that may help control her disease and hopefully extend her life. This of course would be a wonderful thing--but let's not forget that they enjoy a privilege that millions of middle-class and poor Americans do not--comprehensive health insurance coverage and access to excellent medical care. Women with no insurance or inadequate insurance who present with stage 4 breast cancer with mets will likely be referred to hospice--not to an oncologist who can supervise a regimen of cutting-edge and expensive chemotherapies.

Does anyone else find it positively stunning to hear this type of cancer likened to living with a chronic disease like diabetes? How many women with any type of serious and potentially life-limiting diagnosis can say, "I don't expect my life to be significantly different"? Is she putting on a brave front for her children, her family, her husband's campaign, or is she speaking confidently and without artifice from a place of jaw-dropping but normative privilege and advantage? The truth is that I too have excellent health insurance and would likely have access to treatment for a similiar, if not identical diagnosis (although possibly not the same level of care). It is a reminder of my own privilege.

As much as I wish Elizabeth Edwards well--I think this must be politicized. How this country elects officials who create room in the budget for marriage and other "faith-based initiatives" but see no moral laxity in enormous disparities when it comes to access to health care, education, housing, etc, is beyond me. I'll be greatly disappointed if Mr. and Mrs. Edwards do not "take advantage" of this situation to raise these and other questions in their bid for the White House.

How to know when someone thinks you're Evil

2007-03-13T18:18:00.000-06:00

They hold a cleansing ceremony to rid their space of your pernicious self.

Proof that Anyone Can Just Make Shit Up and Market It

2007-03-08T06:19:00.000-07:00

Not that we needed any further proof, but I unwittingly came across this idea by someone even less likely than I to win a MacArthur Genius Grant. Don't miss the warning to sinners.

Happy Blog Against Sexism Day

2007-03-08T06:08:00.000-07:00

Who knew? So yeah, I'm a'gin it.

first class struggle

2007-03-06T09:57:00.000-07:00

I read Firestone's The Dialectic of Sex: The Case for Feminist Revolution when I was a freshman at Baylor University (truly a hotbed of radical feminism) and finished it not really understanding what I'd read, but nonetheless feeling intellectually superior to my peers more interested in sorority teas and identifying which males were more likely to become prominent Texas attorneys. Now, 25 years later all of it still sorta just pisses me off. I do not presently have time to give Firestone another go, but Twisty over at I Blame the Patriarchy is hosting an ongoing Firestone Theater. The discussion threads over there are sometimes hit and miss, but the host offers a provoking jumping-off place. Which is just GREAT for me--what with 5 papers due next week. Check it out.

Part-time postmodern

2007-03-05T17:44:00.000-07:00

I am blessed with very smart friends who help elevate the level of discourse that is constantly running in my own head. As prompted by their recent posts, thinking about writing, reading and speaking as betrayal has been putting quite the drain on the electrical currents in my brain. Despite the likely non-existence of a meta-minerva-narrative (no matter what my mother says), I love the idea that with every word I write, read or utter I may be exfoliating my being. But what does it say that I still find myself wondering about Truth? Perhaps it says that my frontal cortex is still recovering from years of Sunday School indoctrination, but I should hope I'm beyond that by now. I once asked a reasonable theologian I know about postmodern hermeneutics, who laughed dismissively and responded that they are inherently contradictory terms. Funny how working with people who are processing what "end-of-life" means brings all this stuff to the fore. Is being a thoroughgoing postmodern a luxury?

Recloseted Homosexuals and the Heterosexuals Who Love Them

2007-02-28T17:25:00.000-07:00

So, while CHFOT (Concerned Hetero Friends of Ted) work to mentally and emotionally flagellate Ted Haggard back into the closet, Focus on The Family sponsored a conference in Phoenix in which to heap shame upon a larger group of people at one time and pray away the gay. One young man was dragged there by his parents and commented: "Don't tell my parents but no; I know I'm gay, and like, their stories are really inspiring but I know this is me and I don't really want to change." He evidently resisted despite the compelling speeches by the main plenary speaker (pictured at left), and Robert Chambers, President of Exodus International.

The next conference is being held at as yet undisclosed location in Central Texas:

Ahhhhhhh...the Firmament

2007-02-28T16:59:00.000-07:00

How gorgeous is this? The Helix Nebula was photographed by one of NASA's handy-dandy space telescopes. You can view a space-geek heavenly slide show here.

And the Oscar for Most Unrelenting Insipidity Goes To....

2007-02-26T06:30:00.000-07:00

The E! Network. Ta-da!

Is it just me, or are the Academy Awards becoming more and more a spectacularly soporofic exercise in boring? Good God--where the hell is Cher? If you couldn't find self-tanner on the shelves this week--you know now where it all went. And Ellen DeGeneres completely disappointed. Miss Nicey-Nice held the Britney Spears jokes and just yapped on about diversity and global warming. Whatever. But don't you know the wingnuts were wailing and gnashing their teeth at the sight of Al Gore on stage more than the host and Melissa Ethridge thanking her wife? And who knew that Dirty Harry speaks I-talian?

Oh Gawd Our Help in Ages Past

2007-02-23T18:58:00.000-07:00

If the previous post/link was too much a reminder of the swift nature with which life passes, then here I share something that truly made me laugh today. I do enjoy Eddie Izzard.

Life ......

2007-02-22T19:30:00.001-07:00

Is Short

On the Brain

2007-02-18T10:17:00.000-07:00

Just an FYI--the Alzheimer's Association has a nifty little online interactive tour about the human brain that is worth a looksee. It also presents how Alzheimer's Disease affects the brain--which is sobering. I'm doing a short internship stint with the Colorado chapter of the Alzheimer's Assocation. If anyone close to you has ever suffered from dementia, you are well acquainted with not only the accompanying stress and grief, but also with broader and deeper philosophical questions about the relationship, integration of, the mind and body. (By the by,there's an interesting piece in a recent New Yorker about a couple who teach philosophy at UC San Diego and focus specifically on mind/body conundrums.)

I had posted back in December about a man in Italy who fought for his own right to die. His story is illustrative of how a sick person who still has mental acuity may have to fight for rights against people with different agendas. How much more so difficulty is it then for a person suffering from dementia and is no longer considered "competent?" I say again to those I love: if you haven't already, execute an advanced directive outlining your wishes!! Do it! Five Wishes is legal in most states (but not in Texas!), but in any case it may be used as a resource. Does your partner or spouse have an advanced directive?Your parents? Your siblings? As someone who works with clients who have dementia--it can be heartbreaking to try to determine what someone may want or not want based upon recollections from family members (who may have contrary agendas of their own) because the person had not put anything in writing.

Stinky Weeds

2007-02-11T15:13:00.000-07:00

I had read about this show "Weeds" (on Showtime, I think) about a newly widowed single mom who lives in the California 'burbs, and sells pot to maintain her standard of living. I'd heard it was edgy, hip, irreverant, envelope-pushing, and creative. It is all those things--as long as all of those things add up to a big pile of crap. I wasted two slots in my Netflix queue on this trash. I understand the whole concept of satire, willful suspension of disbelief, etc., but this is a perfect example of why "edgy" doesn't always equal "smart."

Overheard........

2007-02-10T10:14:00.000-07:00

Because most everyone is now concerned about their health, the Catholic Church has developed a low-carb, low-fat communion wafer. It is called "I Can't Believe It's Not Jesus"

Jesus was speaking to a crowd and admonished them saying "He who is without sin can cast the first stone." When a rock flew past his ear, he turned his head and said, "Mother, really....."

Warm

2007-02-06T08:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday it was in the 50's and the high today is going to be maybe close to 60! And it isn't supposed to snow again until the weekend! Sophie has grass to pee on again and I can turn the heat off and open the windows. Life is currently on an upswing.

Texas Governor Kicks Cervical Cancer's Ass

2007-02-03T22:40:00.000-07:00

Huh. I'm still a bit nonplussed by the news that the governor of Texas, Rick "GoodHair" Perry (the appellation assigned him by the previously eulogized Molly Ivins) has signed an executive order which makes mandatory the vaccination against HPV for all girls in Texas before they enter the 6th grade. I mean...really? Other than the idea of Rick Perry giving two figs about wimmen's health--what is causing the spot on my brain to itch is this:

What would motivate Ricker to go against a large portion of his political base--specifically conservatives who are concerned that a vaccination that might give girls and women one less thing to worry about (cervical cancer) in their patriarchy burdened lives might indeed cause them to get all freaky-deaky and start having sex and stuff. (Thankfully for these concerned folk--there still isn't a vaccine for syphilis, gonorrhea or HIV. God help the youth of America if we don't have the potential acquisition of particularly virulent diseases due to fornication to hold over their heads.)

Well, here's a possible motivation: according to the article linked above, Perry "Perry has ties to Merck and Women in Government. One of the drug company's three lobbyists in Texas is Mike Toomey, Perry's former chief of staff. His current chief of staff's mother-in-law, Texas Republican state Rep. Dianne White Delisi, is a state director for Women in Government.
The governor also received $6,000 from Merck's political action committee during his re-election campaign." The vaccine ain't cheap--the three shot series costs about $360. Hey--don't get me wrong--I'm grateful that a vaccine has been developed that truly may benefit women--but just think of the windfall to Merck (and others) if receiving it is made mandatory! How big of a coinkydink is it then that Texas is the first state to have this policy put in place? Am I the only one who smells somethin' funky?

I'm still working out in my own brain what I think about this as mandated policy--but the cynic and skeptic part of me is suspicious of the motivations of a person who is normally a champion of policies that limit womankind's autonomy. Call me crazy.

Adieu, Molly Ivins

2007-02-01T18:15:00.000-07:00

Molly Ivins died yesterday. She referred to her love of our home state of Texas as a "harmless perversion," and I've always felt a kinship with her just for that. She was a reminder that people like Rick Perry and George W. Bush do not represent all of Texas, but as time went on Ms. Ivins become more and more the proverbial voice crying out in the desert.

This is a woman who suggested Bill Moyers be tagged to run for President, and in what I believe was her final column, she called for an end to the war and repeated one of her most common themes--that the American people are the true seat of power--and we're not exercising that power nearly enough.

Her columns projected the outrage felt by liberals and progressives in Texas and beyond--whether it be about George Bush, the plight of the poor in our militantly agressive capitalist society or the freak show that is Texas politics--and she did it without resorting to meanness. She didn't fit, nor did she ever attempt to conform to Texas big-hair beauty queen standards of beauty and was openly and flagrantly a woman with an intellectual life in a state that deplores intellectualism in general and finds it especially repugnant in women.

I will miss her voice.

I Chant the Body Electric....all the Way to Hell

2007-01-30T10:00:00.000-07:00

In the ever-lengthening list of things that godduggery wails and gnashes its teeth about, add teaching children yoga in public schools. Perhaps not as earth-shattering as finding out that Tinky-Winky is a big 'ol purse-toting homo, it seems though that all that mandatory chanting while stretching the body into sexually suggestive positions is tantamount to teaching Hindu in public schools and thereby violating constitutionally mandated separation of church and state. Of course, we all know how the religious right cherishes the establishment clause.

I wonder if it is really about promoting the religious beliefs of those hell-bound Hindus and not the focus that is placed on the human body (so prone to sin as it is). Just the names given to different yoga poses might cause some twitterpation in the heart and body of the chaste: Downward-facing Dog, Standing Straddle Forward Bend, Goddess Pose, Four-Limbed Staff Pose.

The benefits of introducing yoga into a public school phys-ed program include: reducing childhood obesity, calming students who suffer from ADD or ADHD, increasing flexibility and strength. Downside? Even "yoga lite" (stripped of pose names, chanting, referring to yogic breathing as "bunny breathing" etc) "goads young people into exploring other religions and mysticism."

However, fear not! Check out this Christian alternative to yoga.

The Beneficence of Baby Banning

2007-01-26T23:04:00.000-07:00

I've long been of the opinion that in particular situations, children should be seen and not heard (and in some instances being out of sight is preferable as well), but in my book, the top three are: 1) movie theatres; 2) restaurants; and 3) airplanes. I still have flashbacks to an execrable flight in which a small child shrieked like a howler monkey for an unacceptably long portion of a 10-hour flight. If there was ever justification for some sort of juvenile sedative, that was it.

However, recently a small child obligingly tormented her parents and fellow passengers while the the plane was still parked at the gate, refusing to get in her seat and thereby delaying take-off. After a 15 minute delay, the airline removed the offending toddler and her parents. I tip my hat to AirTrans, who took action despite the realization that that they'd quite possibly get some negative push-back from those who believe that the world revolves around their ill-mannered progeny. True, the child might've been frightened, and I'm not completely devoid of compassion (don't laugh) for parents in that situation. Nonetheless, mini-vans exist for a reason.

Tortillas vs. WalMart and Ethanol

2007-01-19T07:11:00.000-07:00

I don't recall if I knew that Wal-Mart was the largest employer in Mexico or not, but according to a story on NPR yesterday, the soulless succubus retailer may also be a lot, or at least partially, responsible for the increasing cost of tortillas in Mexico. Other possible explanations include the high demand for yellow corn for ethanol production in the US, NAFTA-created unfair conditions in which Mexican growers have difficulty competing with US subsidized corn producers, and price gouging that may have resulted from monopolistic practices by large Mexican growers. According to the story, the average Mexican eats 10 tortillas a day, and with price increases at times as high as 50%, there's little doubt as to who will reap a windfall, and who will have to dig a bit deeper.

This sort of story just makes me nash my teeth in anger and frustration.

Why Don't They Just Brand Women With A Hot Iron And Get It Over With?

2007-01-16T08:46:00.000-07:00

I remember all too well how easy it was for me to take my ex-husband's last name when we married--and what a nightmare it was to change it back when we split. It turns out the groom open to acknowledging that the woman taking her man's name is an outmoded patriarchal remnant has similiar difficulty if he wants to take his wife's last name.

Only a handful of states have made the process equal. When I married in Texas a lifetime ago, all I had to do was check a little box indicating I was allowing myself to be branded as my husband's property and that was that! Check out the requirements for a man in California who wants to take his wife's last name. Among other things, he must appear before a judge who will than likely question is manhood and caution him against the dangers of being "whipped."

NEVER AGAIN!!!

Please Contact Blog Author for Permission to Cite

2007-01-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

I began a new academic term a week ago, and one instructor went to great pains to impress upon us the importance of proper (and in our case, APA) citation in our written work. Suffice it to say, she stopped short of suggesting that we would likely have no original thought, and should cite accordingly. I didn't give it much further thought after class as this is an area in which I'm quite diligent.

That is, until a few days later brought the arrival of the new Harper's. Two pieces in the Februrary issue are worth a read. The first, On The Rights of Molotov Man: Appropriation and the Art of Context (Joy Garnett and Susan Meiselas) concerns contextualization and decontextualization of an image (in this case a photograph) and how at times the subject of a certain image and context may be lost in the midst of lawyers arguing over intellectual property and copyright laws. The second, The Ecstasy of Influence (by Jonathan Lethem) discusses the conflicts within art, culture and the marketplace--what he describes as a "gift economy" and the "market economy." He states that "Contemporary copyright, trademark, and patent law is presently corrupted. The case for perpetual copyright is a denial of the essential gift-aspect of the creative act. Arguments in its favor are as un-American as those for the repeal of the estate tax." Now, my instructor mentioned earlier would no doubt caution me to not apply any notions I have regarding art, the public doman and the public good to social science research. And, she'd have a point. Nonetheless, all of this has me all in a tither and I'm interested in the thoughts of others on these subjects.

I recently spent about $30 for a DVD box set of old Looney Tunes cartoons just so I could share a piece of what I consider one of the most brilliant moments in American culture (tongue only partly in cheek here): Elmer Fudd and Bugs Bunny in "What's Opera, Doc?" Of course I will now at some point have to drag them to Siegfried, if not the entire Ring cycle at some point, so they will have a greater appreciation of Elmer Fudd's sword and magic helmet, and Bugs Bunny as Brunhilde. I look at Bugs, Yosemite Sam, Sylvester, et al, as cultural gifts, dammit, and people shouldn't have to fork over $$ for an entire box set to have access. However, Mr. Lethem reports that ASCAP is still receiving royalties for Happy Birthday to You, 114 years after it was written. So, I suspect Bugs will not be entering the public domain any time soon.

I don't know exactly why I find the subject so fascinating--but I've just picked up Richard Posner's book, The Little Book of Plagiarism, so it isn't a subject I'm ready to let go of just yet. Posner is a judge on the 7th Circuit known for his pragmatism. I'll attempt to summarize his take on all of this at a later time.

Junk Mail

2007-01-04T21:15:00.000-07:00

Not even a week into the New Year, and I've already received an e-mail from a friend urging me to sign a petition in support of bringing prayer back into public schools and that a posse of godless liberals are lobbying the FCC to prohibit religious programming of any kind over our airwaves. Did the State take control of public airwaves in the country while I was on break, or isn't it still the case that any wingnut can buy airtime and proclaim his or her godduggery to any and all that has the stomach to listen? Oh, and evidently some show called "Touched by and Angel" was cancelled because it was about God--not because it was a cringe-inducing, treacly and platitudinous steaming pile of crap.

Now, this friend who sent me the e-mail is as lovely and well-meaning as a person can be, but I fear that she may be like many lovely and well-meaning Christians who hear claptrap like "the Constitution was based on the 10 Commandments" and believe it to be true. So, I couldn't just delete the thing and let it go. Instead, I spent 15 minutes of my life that I'll never get back crafting a delicately worded rebuttal to the following e-mail bilge--the godless liberal that I am.

For your reading pleasure: the unedited text of the afore mentioned bilge:

Subject: Fw: Prayer in Schools.....!!!!!
Subject: Dr. Dobson and CBS ResponseDr. Dobson & CBS Response

Apparently we are to be allowed to watch TV programs that use every foul word in the English language, but not the word "God." It will only take a minute to read this and see if you think you should send it out DR. DOBSON'S PLEA FOR ACTION CBS discontinued "Touched by an Angel" for using the word God in every program. Madeline Murray O'Hare, an atheist, successfully managed to eliminate the use of Bible reading from public schools a few years ago. Now her organization has been granted a federal hearing on the same subject by the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) Washington, DC. Their petition, Number 2493, would ultimately pave the way to stop the reading of the gospel, our Lord and Savior, on the airwaves of America. They got 287,000 signatures to back their stand! If this attempt is successful, all Sunday worship services being broadcast on the radio or by television will be stopped. This group is also campaigning to remove all Christmas programs and Christmas carols from public schools! You as a Christian can help! We are praying for at least 1 million signatures. This would defeat their effort and show that there are many Christians alive, well and concerned about our country. As Christians we must unite on this. Please don't take this lightly. We ignored this lady once and lost prayer in our school and in offices across the nation Please stand up for your religious freedom and let your voice be heard. Together we can make a difference in our country while creating a way for the lost to know the Lord. Please press "forward", and forward this to everyone that you think should read this. Now, please sign your name at the bottom ( you can only add your name after you have pressed the "Forward"). Don't delete any other names, just go to the next number and type your name and state. Please defeat this organization and keep the right of our freedom of religion. REMEMBER: Our country was founded on freedom of religion and our Constitution is based on the 10 Commandments. Agree or Delete: Instructions to sign are at the bottom. PETITION FOR PRESIDENT BUSH PETITION TO REINSTATE PRAYER IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS:

(I f you don't forward the petition and just stop it, we will lose all these names. If you do not want to sign it, please forward it to everyoneyou know. Thank you!!! To add your name, click on "forward". You will be able to add your name atthe bottom of the list and then forward it to your friends. Or copy & paste. TO THE 3,000TH PERSON: SEND IT ON TO THE FOLLOWING E-MAIL ADDRESS: President@WhiteHouse.gov

It Is About How You Live

2007-01-02T19:37:00.000-07:00

I've spent the last several months in a palliative care setting--as a social work intern--not as a patient--and it provides more than frequent opportunities to think about living, dying, grieving, how illness affects the body and spirit, not to mention the "well" people who care for the dying, exactly how broad the term "quality of life" really is, and the different ways people express feelings of fear, hope, anticipation, sadness, pain,etc., when faced with death.

I have been very moved and affected by the life and death of Piergiorgio Welby, an Italian man who lived with muscular dystrophy all of his adult life and then fought for his right to die. In a letter to Italy's President, he wrote that "Life is the woman who loves you, the wind through your hair, the sun on your face, an evening stroll with a friend. Life is also a woman who leaves you, a rainy day, a friend who deceives you. " Read the letter in full here. Welby died on December 20th, 2006, after receiving assistance from a physician who agreed to turn off the machines keeping Welby alive. This physician may face a criminal charge because of this. Never forget that there are those who seek to impose their own values and agendas upon people in death as well as life.

Working with dying people has prompted me to think more daily about how I live. This will be a year of change for me--hopefully it will also be about personal growth, increased insight, and opportunities to be an effective advocate for myself and others.

Will we all sleep better after Saddam is dead?

2006-12-29T16:07:00.000-07:00

Being snowed in again, I've watched a surfeit of CNN and of course everyone is abuzz about the impending execution of Saddam Hussein. And not just an execution--but a hanging. Being from Texas--a state that executes more people than any other--I thought that perhaps I'd been inured to the realities associated with the practice of capital punishment--but I find myself with a sick feeling in my spirt at what will likely transpire in Iraq in a matter of hours, evidently. Not because I feel Saddam deserves to live--he deserves to die many times over--but because of what I fear his execution says about us. Bertrand Russell said this about the practice: "The reformative effect of punishment is a belief that dies hard, chiefly I think, because it is so satisfying to our sadistic impulses." I've thought about this today because execution in the United States has become rather sanitized--just a needle in the arm is all it takes. I realize that if Saddam's execution is made available for public viewing there will be many (including Americans) who will yell booyah at the moment his neck breaks, but I also suspect that many will turn away, grateful that this final disposition took place in Iraq, a country already regarded by many as uncivilized and barbaric.

Will Saddam's execution bring justice for all the people he killed and terrorized? Really? Will the world really be any safer, Mr. President? Or will the cheers and high-fives that are offered up at his death only perpetuate a particular brand of baseness and inhumanity.

Read more about the civilized practice of hanging here.

Give Me A Break From The Weather, and Hold the Holy Night

2006-12-24T12:39:00.000-07:00

Well, it is Christmas Eve, and I'm tired and feeling, if possible, even more cynical than last year. This last academic quarter left me drained, and silly me, I didn't take the time during all the reading and writing to think ahead about this absolutely magical time to make kennel arrangments for Sophie. Imagine my shock to find out that everyone else had made arrangements, leaving no room in the proverbial inn. So, while the rest of my family gathers at my brother's house, Sophie and I have holed up in my Hooterville apartment to wait out the holiday. And, it is snowing again, so I find sequestering myself with good books, wine, hot cocoa, digital cable and my dog isn't such a bad thing. Weather permitting, I'll head up to the hills tomorrow for the day--but tonight is mine.

Day 3

2006-12-22T18:26:00.000-07:00

Day 2

2006-12-21T11:07:00.000-07:00