I For One.....

The Power of Staying Positive

2011-08-24T18:51:00.000-07:00

When you go through a tough break-up sometimes the easiest thing to do is sink into the misery of the situation. Let's face it. Sometimes it's flat out necessary! Did you know that stress hormones are released in tears? Too much moping is bad though because moping begets more moping. So, I've been putting the power of positive thinking to work. How am I succeeding?

You know, not so badly. When I want to call and say "I miss you", I remind myself of the setback I will inflict on my emotional recovery and chose a better activity. Go for a run, take Luke for a walk, write, read the newspaper, call a friend. When my mind goes groping for the answers to the "why" questions I know I'll never get, I take inventory of the things I have control of. My job, the way I choose to spend my time, my schedule, etc. When I'm tempted to feel sorry myself for the loss of my love, I turn the situation on it's head and feel grateful for the time I am now enjoying with friends. And I REALLY am enjoying my time with friends.

The kicker is trying to put a positive spin on the loss of physical affection. I miss the HELL out of kisses and hugs, and falling asleep spooning. Among other things. The only positive I've found so far is to reflect on just how damned good it'll feel once this dry spell is over.

Getting Back to It

2011-07-31T11:25:00.000-07:00

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been two years since my last post, and what a lot has happened. I'll start with the biggest news and telescope down to the smallest. First, a divorce. After 16 years with my husband, fate flung somebody completely unexpected into my path. I had two choices: safe, secure, predictable or stepping into the abyss to ride a comet. I chose the latter. Now, two years later however, the comet has turned into a chilly asteroid and I find myself with almost nothing to concern myself with save my children, my dog, and my job. Not necessarily in that order and not that those aren't important concerns.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone, so I decided to sign up with a couple of internet dating sites. Stayed tuned for the success of that adventure, but so far so meh! The interesting thing about setting up a profile on one of these sites is that you realize just what a boring person you really are. "What are your interests?" Hmmm. Well, after I come home from work I look at Facebook, read my email, text a little with a friend, nibble something out of the fridge, have a glass of wine, read my book, and go to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat. Now I'm examining my life, realizing that I've spent much of the last few years riding on the coat tails of OTHER people's interests. The kids, the ex-husband, the boyfriend.

So now begins the period of self-examination. What do I enjoy doing to fill the hours when the boys are with their dad, I'm not at work, and my small group of friends is busy. I've come up with a few things I think I'll launch myself into. Again, stay tuned. The new focus of this blog will be on how this new phase of my life unfolds. This is me breaking a bottle of champagne over the bow of USS I For One.... Wish me luck.

New Office Noises and Valentine's Gestures Gone Wrong

2009-02-15T12:44:00.000-08:00

UNFORTUNATE NOISES

Nearly six years have passed since I last worked in a crowded office environment, so I've had to take a little time to get used to the presence of co-workers over the course of the last few weeks. Don't get me wrong, everyone is REALLY nice and very pleasant to work with. There is hardly an ego in the place and company politics has yet to rear its ugly head.

The issue at hand is, for lack of a better term, bodily noises. You'd think after so many years in isolation, I would be the person who forgets herself and lets fly with unapologetic flatulence or practices indiscrete nose picking. But it's not me who can be heard unblocking my sinuses with a cacophonous intake of air that sounds like it is rattling my eye sockets. No do I talk to myself nearly constantly, or vigorously and loudly clear my throat once every 15 minutes. It is not me, but a mystery co-worker (I have yet to catch this person in the act), who appears to have been born and raised in a barn. I'm all for letting fly with a good belch when one is among close family or friends, especially when excessive beer is involved, but loud burps in the work place take a little getting used to.

Is every workplace filled with people who fail to temper their unfortunate noises throughout the course of the day? Perhaps after working in an office setting for years, these noises will become like the hum of the refrigerator turning on or the whoosh of a passing car, noises I heard but never acknowledged when I was working from home.

VALENTINE'S GIFT

My husband is very sweet and romantic. It is commonplace for him to leave me little love notes, buy me random flowers, or bring home some small gift just because. I really appreciate these gestures. I always feel loved and appreciated, and who doesn't like a little gift or treat every now and then. But, sometimes the best laid plans go awry. A couple of days ago, before anyone else was up, I was hurrying to get out the door. I had let the dogs back in from their morning pee and was looking in the cupboard for bones for them to gnaw on when I saw Bo drop a small foil-wrapped chocolate heart on the floor. Annoyed, I went to retrieve it, wondering who the heck had been careless enough to leave chocolate where the dogs could get to it. Planning to have a strict chat with children when I got home, I headed for the back door to grab my laptop case from the floor where it was propped. Sitting on top of it was another foil-wrapped chocolate heart with a single letter U carefully colored on it with a black Sharpie. Then it all made sense. Steve must have left me a couple of pieces of chocolate on my laptop case spelling out the message "heart U". Returning to the great room to get my shoes on I found a third foil heart with the letter I. Ah ha, I must have gotten the whole message then. Three hearts that together said "I heart U". I hopped in my car, having tossed all the pieces of chocolate into my purse. Then it hit me. Oh no, what if Steve had left the message that he loved me very, very, very, very much? There could be a major mess of dog sick to clean up by the time he got out of bed to ready the kids for school. Fortunately Steve doesn't love me that much.

Diarrhrea of the Mouth, Constipation of of the Brain

2009-02-06T18:00:00.001-08:00

I consider myself a pretty easy-going person. I get along fine with the majority of people, and if I find myself annoyed by somebody I make it a policy to keep things to a polite and respectful level and simply interact with them as little as possible. Typically that works out great, and I can count on one hand with fingers to spare, the number of confrontations I have had with co-workers or other people I have to associate with.

This week proved to be a horrible exception to this general trend. Fortunately it never came to blows or even an unpleasant exchange of words, but if this person could have heard the internal monologue going on inside my brain cage he would have slunk off with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. He wasn't a bad, or even a mean person, and in a general sense I could be around him without continuously suppressing the urge to slug him. The problem was that he just wouldn't shut up! The sound of his own voice droning on about a vast array of horrifically boring topics seemed to be a balm to his psyche without which he could not function. Once he had latched onto a conversational topic, he hung onto it with the tenacity of a pack of wild dogs that have treed a three-legged cat. No facet of a particular subject was left unexplored, including every excruciating reference and sub-reference. His favorite topic was, of course, himself.

This individual was not more experienced or at a higher level on the corporate food chain than I. He was simply on the job site to fill in for some hours at the end of the day that I could not cover. Among his many charms was the annoying habit of telling me how to do things I had already done, already knew how to do, or had no need to ever accomplish. Add to that his tendency to call my bosses and suggest new ways for me to do my job, additional tasks that I should be engaged in, as well as a laundry list of problems I had not attended to on the job site, and by the end of this week this particular individual was fortunate not to be using his anal sphincter as a speaking device.

Violence is not an option, so instead of pinching his head off between my thumb and forefinger or yelling at him, I took to avoiding him whenever possible. This was not an easy task as all construction sites require personnel to wear Safety Orange or Dayglo Yellow as a safety measure. Fortunately some of the equipment on the site is similarly colored so on occasion I could avoid detection by fading into the contours of a front loader, or sidling up to a crane.

I am grateful to report that today was the last day I had to work with this conversational Olympian. As I left my office this evening, backing slowly away and continuously trying to terminate his stream of consciousness, he excitedly filled me in on the recent exorcism of his new home. Apparently the spirits left because they had been informed that he was "a good guy". I didn't have the heart to tell him they probably vacated to get a little peace and quiet.

Portapotty Hell

2009-02-01T08:49:00.000-08:00

My first three weeks on the job site at my new position were in a very simple setting. Personnel on the site consisted of myself, two engineers, a security guy, and the biologist that I was replacing. There were no buildings associated with the project, save a single turquoise blue portable toilet. A toilet that I shared with all of these burly men, along with several burly fence-builders, a host of burly truckers, and the occasional burly backhoe operator.

Each day before I left for work I attempted to empty myself of all bodily excretions so as not to have to use that portable toilet any more than necessary. Not to put too fine of a point on it, but there are certain acts that are not easily achieved with earth moving equipment rumbling less than twenty feet from your personal refuge. Inevitably, the water with which I had washed down my lunch would come back to haunt me, and I would be forced to use the johnny-on-the-spot.

My greatest fear, was that my cellphone or keys would tumble out of my pocket and down the dark hole into the mess below. This fear, however unreasonable, became so overwhelming that I began leaving my phone and keys in my car while relieving myself. Entering little blue building, I'd take a deep breath in attempt to avoid breathing the foul air therein. Inside, I would flip up the lid, trying in vain to avert my eyes from the contents already lurking underneath. Not looking inside a pit toilet is much like trying to tear your eyes from a train wreck. Try as you might, you just can't avoid a quick peek.

My second greatest fear was that somehow the portable toilet would become upended by some large piece of equipment working nearby while I was using it. Perhaps it was just this fear at work, but the structure seemed to begin to vibrate and rumble ominously as soon as my efforts had reached critical mass. There I would sit, totally vulnerable, waiting for the shack to tumble. With Murphy's law at work, it would land on it's door, and I would be trapped under a foetid wave of human excrement. My coworkers must have scratched their heads in confusion upon seeing me burst from the Portapotty, wild-eyed in fear, hastily buckling up my jeans.

Now that trailers are in place, lots of new people have arrived on the job site and things are not as simple as they once were. A complicated chain of command is in place and it's much more difficult to get things done. You'll here no complaints from me though. I'm just thrilled to have an indoor toilet that flushes, and hot water and soap with which to wash my hands. I for one will not miss a daily update on what recently exited the entails of my co-workers.

2009-01-25T10:54:00.001-08:00

Family: The people you can be your real self around. If they put up with you, you know a) you have good family and/or, b) you probably aren't that big of an asshole.

Doer or Slacker?

2009-01-25T08:13:00.000-08:00

In the last couple of weeks I've been developing a theory about how people work. When deadlines get tight and project hours get long there seem to be two kinds of workers. There are those that buckle down, and no matter how crappy the conditions, how tough the job, how many other items are on their to do list, or how inconvenient the hours may be they just "get 'er done". The other kind shows up late, is missing many of the tools they need to get the job done, has multiple excuses for why they can't complete the task ahead of them, and needs constant supervision and nagging to get the job finished. I am developing a deep admiration for the former (the doer) and an equal disdain for the latter (the slacker).

The doer seems to be an expert in task prioritization. If they have a list of 15 things that need to get done over the course of the day, they pick the most important one to get done first or properly order tasks so that work flows smoothly. In the face of an interruption that requires them to step away from one task and deal with some sort of emergency, they do so without grumbling, quickly and efficiently deal with the situation, and then get right back to the original high priority task. You'll never hear them complain about having too much to do. Conversely the slacker jumps from task to task, often inappropriately reacting to an interruption or emergency by permanently switching their focus so that no task ever gets finished properly. Their work flow is not managed well so that badly-needed materials will show up at the job site but are rendered useless because the equipment or personnel needed to use those materials has not been scheduled. The work they do perform is done to a minimum quality standard and will not be improved upon until they are specifically instructed on how to fix their mistakes.

The doer seems to always be getting something done. They may be ill, tired, sore and terribly overworked but rather than spending time complaining they lead by quiet example, simply getting the job done. The slacker will start his day enumerating all of the ways he has been ill-used by his boss, his subordinates, the virus that has attacked him, or his car that has broken down. Throughout the day he will stop often to talk with others about how tired he is, how he has been asked to work that falls outside of his job description, or how much more grandiose his former job was.

I will admit there have been many times that I have been guilty of being a slacker, and no doubt some of the hardest working doers on the job go home on the weekends and refuse to do little around the house but hold down a recliner and watch football. My goal with this new job is to be viewed whenever possible as a doer. With that said, I think there might be something good on TV right now.....

Striking a Balance

2009-01-20T20:33:00.000-08:00

We just returned from a four-day weekend in San Diego. Prior to that, northern California had experienced an extended heat wave that drove afternoon temperatures into the upper 70s and low 80s. For a person who is newly employed at a job that keeps her out of doors for about 10 hours a day, the timing couldn't have been better. Week two on the job was great. I've established a pretty good rapport with most of the people who are regularly on site, familiarized myself with the project, and gotten a pretty good handle on how the next few months will go. Adding some spring-time weather to the mix, sans allergies was just the icing on the cake.

The only downside to last week, and I imagine this will continue to haunt the coming week(s), was the uncertainty about the hours I am to work. After putting in about four hours of overtime in throughout the course of the week, I was once again asked if I was available to work a weekend. I'm very gung-ho about the success of the project, facilitating the process for the people involved, and being part of the solution. With that said, I'm even more committed to being available to do my grocery shopping, take my dogs for toenail trims, and send my children to school on Monday with clean clothes. But these are chores and duties that I am responsible for. All that aside, I WANT to be home so I can spend a little quality time with my husband, help the kids with homework, and pass a leisurely hour reading a good book. I guess I forgot, over the course of the last five years, what a tough balancing act family and career can be. What's a girl to do?

And in other news (because there is no way to segue gracefully into this) DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD!!! George W. Bush has officially left office. I followed the proceedings on TV and on Twitter simultaneously and heard lots of talk of tears and goosebumps. For me however, the most sublime moment was when the new president and first lady escorted George and Laura Bush to their waiting helicopter. The strains of Na Na Hey Hey (Goodbye) by Banana Republic sung by the crowd as the presidential helicopter lifted off and circled the Washington Mall was my sublime moment. Couldn't have said it better myself.

Week One on the Job

2009-01-11T07:54:00.000-08:00

So I survived my first week working full-time. By survived I mean I got to the job on time each day, didn't do anything to shame myself or appear ignorant, left on time to pick Garrett up before YMCA closing time almost every day, and managed to get a hot meal on the table at the end of it all. Looking back to Monday, it seems like three weeks ago rather than just one. I met so many new people, had to assimilate so much new information, and spent so many long hours commuting either in my car or on BART that one week worth of activities seem like much more. Here are some of the highlights and low points.

* Good - Finding that I really genuinely like all of the people I'll be on the job with over the next couple of years. At the moment I am the lone female in a group of about 15 people that are regularly on the job site. One big crusty Vietnam vet has taken me under his wing and assured me that he will "deal with" anyone who gives me any trouble. I believe him.

* Bad - Being told that they expect me to be on the job from 7 to 5. I think this detail will get resolved, but for the time being, with my commute I am gone for about 12 hours a day. My poor dogs miss me.

* Good - Sucessfully commuting to San Francisco and back on BART without any major SNAFUs. I have found that riding up the peninsula side of the BART line requires more driving, but makes for a less aromatic ride with fewer colorful characters and less traffic on the way home.

* Bad - Finding that getting into and out of San Francisco on BART takes a minimum of an hour and a half. I can't wait for BART to get extended to San Jose.

* Good - Getting back out into the fresh air and renewing my acquaintance with field biology.

* Bad - Having no office. I will spend the next three years working in a quadruple wide trailer, but those trailers are still being set up, which requires my supervision to avoid environmental impacts. Working in the cold weather for 9 to 10 hours with no place to sit gets COLD and tiring.

*Also good - Having a corner office with a WINDOW! Does a corner office count as a corner office if it's in a trailer?

Now it's off to squeeze as much productivity out of my weekend as possible. The toilets will not scrub themselves and all of the dog fur on the carpet and poop on the lawn will not go away without my attention. At least I'll never be bored.......

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Back to Work I Go!

2009-01-01T12:24:00.000-08:00

Happy new year all. 2008 was a wild ride, but I have guarded optimism for 2009. Why? A new president will be taking office a little less than three weeks from now, and I got a job. After over a year of searching, a job offer was finalized on Tuesday of this week and I start work this this coming Monday. The job is full-time which means more income, but less time for blogging. I have every intention of keeping this blog up and running but updates will have to be less frequent so I can continue to spend time with my family and get my household chores done.

I'm delighted to be getting back to working as a biologist. This is what I spent four years in school for, and ultimately the work I am best qualified to do. Having the extra income will be a huge relief for us as a family, particularly after a year of more or less living on just one salary. After laying out a large amount of our life savings doing a badly-needed upgrade to our kitchen and then watching another large chunk of it disappear in the stock market melt-down, it will be nice to build the coffers up a bit.

Another part of me is a little sad though. I haven't worked full-time since late 2002 when I quit work to take some pressure off of Steve during a stressful period at his old job, and to make myself more available to the kids. I'll no longer be able to see Weston out the door in the morning, drop Garrett off at his classroom, or pick the kids up after school. I will deeply miss these little rituals. I'll also miss having the pooches and the cat as my only office mates. I'm hoping my new human companions will be as easy to get along with (but less prone to flatulence).

On the other hand I know our family is very fortunate not only to have escaped any job loss, but to have added a second income during these tough times. I will keep all of you up-to-date on my process of transition from work-at-home mother to full-time bread winner. Thanks for your faithful readership over this last few months, and may 2009 bring good things to your household to0.

Happy Puke Day Luke

2008-12-30T08:42:00.001-08:00

The whole family has been lounging, really seriously lounging since boxing day. The boys have dedicated themselves to their new video games with an occasional break to carry on a good-natured spat. Steve has been plinking around with some programming of his own, and I've gotten back to my knitting for the first time since I hurt my shoulder playing hockey. The dogs don't know what to do with all of this family time and sometimes get booted out for a little fresh air due to an excess of enthusiasm for tearing around the house during quiet hour.

On Saturday they spent some time out of doors while I was busy with a project. When Luke came in, he had a strangely swollen look about his midsection. Thinking I was imagining things, I asked Steve if the pup looked bloated to him too. Steve has a tendency to dismiss my concerns about the health of the children and animals, knowing that I am often too quick to worry. This time however, he was in total agreement. Luke seemed otherwise cheerful, if not a bit slow-moving, so I figured that watchful waiting was the best option. The next time the dogs went out, they made a bee-line around the garage and out of sight. Hurrying after them, the source of the bloat was revealed. The little bastards had knocked over a trash bag set on top of the can which had become too full to hold it. Inside was a chicken carcass and five or six large fat-soaked pieces of potato that had cooked with it. I say "was" because by the time we discovered what they had done, these items had disappeared without a trace.

Realizing what had occurred, Steve felt the midsection of the much-furrier Bo to see if his belly was as distended as Luke's. It was. Both dogs spent the rest of the afternoon in a rather subdued state. They tried, halfheartedly, to play together, but the first bump from Bo sent Luke sprawling on his side with a piglike grunt, so they gave up in favor of a nap. Asleep at Steve's feet after dinner, Luke leapt up and bolted to the door, vomiting up a copious amount of chicken carcass just short of the exit. The next day he was purging chicken at the other end. Bo, being of somewhat sterner constitution or perhaps having eaten less chicken, seemed to have escaped with few foul effects. It wasn't until the following evening that he returned to the house with a good-sized bun of feces clinging to the area under his tail that the ghost of chicken past came to haunt us. Bo, Steve, and a pair of scissors spent a little quality time together on the back porch to remedy that situation.

Later that night I realized that Luke's first birthday, on December 27th, had passed unnoticed and uncelebrated. We felt a little badly until we realized that he and Bo had celebrated it in dog-fashion by partying 'till they popped at the trash can. Happy birthday Luke! May you make it to your second birthday without a repeat of that particular incident.

The Little Acorn Doesn't Fall Far...

2008-12-26T08:30:00.001-08:00

This morning after I finished breakfast I burped. Loudly. I didn't mean to, really. It just popped out. Weston laughed and commented that my burp was even louder than Garrett's. A bit shamefacedly I admitted that Garrett comes by his belching talents honestly. "The sad thing is" Weston replied, "he doesn't get them from Dad." Sigh. I've been reprimanded by my own child.

All I Want For Christmas Is a Basilisk

2008-12-22T07:32:00.000-08:00

I know what I want for Christmas. I saw it this weekend in San Francisco at the California Academy of Science. For a biologist, this place is like the world's biggest candy shop. Each section of the museum presents another area where I have vowed to spend at least two hours browsing once the huge volume of traffic has died down. In the wake of the renovation and reopening of the museum, weekend crowds have been huge. On our first visit we browsed through the aquarium on the bottom floor with crowds that would have made the British Museum at midsummer proud. The lines for the rain forest exhibit stretched at least 50 people back from its entrance and passes had already been claimed for all of the showings in the planetarium.

Steve had a game plan in place for this visit. We dragged ourselves from our beds at the hotel at 7:00, showered, consumed our breakfasts and by about 8:40, were waiting for the doors to open at the museum. At 9:00 we headed straight for the line to get passes for the first planetarium showing, then to the rain forest exhibit where a long line was already forming. Inside the rainforest exhibit were butterflies, birds, and terrariums with all manner of exotic fish and reptiles. And that's where I saw the emerald basilisk lizard.

A mere photo does not quite do this creature justice. Also known (somewhat irreverently) as the Jesus Christ lizard, the emerald basilisk is named for its ability to run on water.

Even a video doesn't fully capture the ruffled scales behind its ears that make the basilisk look like an utterly captivating combination between those exotic birds at the zoo that are forever cocking their head at you through the bars of their enclosure and a tiny green dog with perky ears. I don't actually want to take one of these beauties from, its natural habitat to live out its days in a terrarium, but I would love to get the chance to see one in the wild. Instead, I'll take one of these (a spider tortoise).

Thanks to Steve for the great photographs.

My Bookmarks Miss Me

2008-12-15T11:13:00.001-08:00

What do the bookmarks on your web browser say about your life? When I was working more my most frequently visited bookmark file was the one that had links to all of the information for biological reports. There was the Cal Photos with all of its pictures and scientific names for the species that I needed to reference. I also spent a lot of time looking at soils reports at USDA and sleuthing out which rivers and streams were protected for salmon at NOAA. As worked dropped of, I've spent much less time at those bookmarks.

The plus side of that was that I had much more time to spend in the Bloggers file in my bookmark toolbar. Those used to be a guilty pleasure while waiting for a call back or a map to finish loading to print. As I spent more time at the blogger bookmarks I got inspired, and I realized I had time to start updating my own blog more. Looking for interesting things to write about, spawned a new file in my bookmark toolbar: sites pertaining to politics. Huffington Post became a favorite hangout, along with the Daily Show, CNN.com, The Washington Post, and a number of sites that kept me up to date on the latest polls. I haven't visited those as frequently now that the election is over.

Now my most important category of bookmarks has become my Job Search file. Craigslist is the first one I hit each Monday morning, followed by Simply Hired, and the City of San Jose and County of Santa Clara job boards. I miss spending time in the bookmarks section filed under Biological Reports Information. I miss being a biologist, writing about biology, and getting out and rambling around out of doors as part of my job. I really hope that all of the time I've spent in the Job Search file will bear fruit soon, and allow me to get back to my biology links.

Garrettisms Part I've Lost Track

2008-12-12T09:30:00.000-08:00

Walking in to school this morning, a little girl got out of her mother's car and called "Bye mom, I love you. Have a great day." I turned to Garrett and asked why I never got such nice I-love-yous from him. "Mom" he said, "I'm a boy and we don't feel the need to talk about our feelings all the time. I'm not like one of those weird girls who has to sing 'I love bananas and bananas love me'." Makes perfect sense....... right?

Puppy Bloodletting

2008-12-11T10:20:00.000-08:00

Poor Luke finally received the long overdue bloodied nose treatment from Kacey, the cat. Bo and Kacey were quite young when we got both of them, and the very first time Bo tried to give Kacey the Tigger treatment that is the typical show of affection bestowed by the Jack Russell terrier, he was rewarded with three bloody scratches down his nose. He has treated her with great respect and care ever since. For some reason Kacey has refused to apply her claws similarly to Luke, and instead has responded in the worst possible way to his curiosity, by running away. Last night was different though.

Full of pep and vinegar, Kacey jumped up on the chair where I was sitting and occupied the Most Favored Pet position usually guarded with great jealousy by Luke. She pulled this off while Luke was busy gobbling his dinner. Kacey had a look about her that any cat owner knows, is the hallmark of a cat spoiling for a little fun. Ambling back into the great room with his belly full, Luke chose to challenge Bo's position on the sofa beside Steve rather that mess with the hissing fur ball on my chair. Responding with a low rumble and a show of teeth, Bo easily rebuffed the pup, so feeling confident he put his front paws up to examine the cat, repeatedly jerking his nose back as she batted at him. Never having encountered her claws, he has little fear of her. That all changed when, tired of his pestering, she sunk a claw into the tender flesh over his left eye, releasing it a moment later with a distinctive "snick" sound. Luke's big brown eyes widened in surprise and he quickly retreated to higher ground on the sofa.

This morning he was still giving the cat a wide berth. Each time he had to pass her, he looked at her warily from the corners of his eyes and scuttled by as quickly as he could. After I dropped the kids off, I was relaxing momentarily in my favorite chair while the dogs, who had just come in, sniffed around the room to make sure nothing was amiss. Suddenly a wide-eyed Luke came tearing across the room, ears peeled back, the whites of his eyes showing, and flew into my lap as though the very devil was attached to his stubby tail. Setting my frightened pup down, I got up to see what had put such a scare into him. While investigating the back of the room, he had come across a large plastic Target bag folded loosely around a deep cardboard box. Overcome by curiosity, and the sense that something interesting was inside that box Luke took a closer look, a deep sniff, then BAM!, a hissing cat exploded out of the recesses of the box, sharp claws waving. By the time I put the pieces of the puzzle together, that box contained a cat with a very satisfied look on her face.

Prop 8 Meets The Daily Show

2008-12-10T16:38:00.001-08:00

I may have mentioned before how much I enjoy Jon Stewart on the Daily Show. I may have also alluded to my opposition to Proposition 8, and my total disgust that it passed. Well, now I am happy to present to you, Jon Stewart chatting with guest Governor Mike Huckabee about Proposition 8.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Mike Huckabee Pt. 2

Barack Obama Interview
John McCain Interview

Sarah Palin Video
Funny Election Video

How great is Jon Stewart? If you wish to take a moment to say a fond thank you to him, you may do so here.

People Are Strange When You Are Pregnant

2008-12-10T14:13:00.000-08:00

People said strange things to me when I was pregnant. Most of it I was able to take in stride, but some of it really threw me for a loop. Early on in my pregnancy I took a trip down to San Diego to visit family. Figuring I needed the practice, I chose to sit at the front of the plane where all of the parents with small children congregate. Surrounded by small wriggly beings I took careful note of how these parents were handling the task they had undertaken. Most seemed to be enjoying parenthood, but the woman next to me seemed to be having difficulty. Her small son,who having just learned to walk refused to sit quietly in her lap, preferring instead to arch his back so he shot out of her grasp and to the ground where he could kick his heels with impunity. Blowing her bangs off of her sweaty forehead she turned to me, eyebrow raised quizzically and asked, why in the love of God I had chosen to sit with all these children if I didn't have to. When I told her I was pregnant she waited a beat, then snapped, "Well stop now, before it's too late!" My poor mother had to spend the entire ride home from the airport, talking me down.

By the time I attended a baby shower for a friend who was about to deliver her first born my condition was much more obvious. While we watched the mother-to-be open her gifts a women, about five or six years my senior took the seat next to me and asked when my baby was due. After a few minutes of polite conversation she indicated her red-headed son playing a few feet away and said, "Don't be worried if your baby is ugly." I must have gaped at her in surprise because she hurriedly went on, "My son was hideous when he was born, and on some level I was aware of it, but as ugly as he was, I thought he was the most beautiful thing ever. All I'm saying is don't worry if your baby isn't cute." It was great to be able to anticipate, after that conversation, the arrival of my little Quasimodo.

Then there was the helpful labor and delivery nurse, who assured us that once our baby arrived, we would become callous to anything we previously held dear. Remember how they tell you to bring a focus object with you to the labor and delivery room? Something meaningful that you can direct your energy into when you begin to tire of laboring. I brought a picture of our pet chinchilla Chillie with me. I know, I'm a dork. Taking a peek at the photo, our L&D nurse announced, "After this baby is born, you won't care about your pet anymore. It'll just be one more thing around the house that you have to take care of." The worst thing about it was that she was right.

Living Nativity???

2008-12-08T09:29:00.000-08:00

We've lived in our San Jose home since 1997, and each Christmas since we moved here, I've driven past a sign on Hillsdale Avenue that reads "Drive Through Living Nativity". Every time I drove by that sign I imagined a bunch of strange, intensely religious individuals, having recruited somebody's newborn baby as a prop, huddled in robes around a makeshift manger in their front yard. Perhaps a Doberman sporting cow horns and a pug dog in sheep's clothing might accompany their vigil. With that intriguing vision in mind, I cannot explain to you why it has taken until last Thursday night for me to actually visit the living nativity.

Determined to finally get a glimpse of this oddity, I tried to persuade Steve and the kids to join me. Since Steve had plans to go out for a bite to eat with coworkers and the boys were involved in a heated game of living room hockey, I set out alone. Undaunted, I followed the signs pointing to the nativity. Upon seeing a bearded man directing traffic into a church parking lot, the truth was revealed. This annual event was not a strange front-yard phenomenon, instead it was an event put on by a church. The Foxworthy Baptist Church to be exact, and this is actually a 15-year tradition. I turned into the church parking lot where I was handed a CD that narrated the seven scenes depicting the birth, crucifixion and resurrection of the savior. As promised, each scene was populated by living people and animals. These included a donkey*, a sheep, three wise men, and a freshly arisen Christ in flowing white robes played by an awkward teenage boy who was clearly suffering under the scrutiny of the passing cars.

After the final scene had been narrated, and Jesus politely waved me on I turned in my CD and in exchange was handed an candy cane. Attached was a fascinating little note explaining the origin of this traditional Christmas goody. Apparently a candy maker fashioned it into a shape which when held upright resembles a shepherd's staff, or when turned upside down, makes the letter J for Jesus. The stripes on the candy cane represent the prophet Isaiah's words, "by his stripes we are healed" which refer to the wounds Jesus received on the cross. Even the white stripes on the candy cane have meaning, symbolizing purity. The living nativity is free (although I elected to give a small donation for their efforts) and takes about 15 minutes to drive through. While it lacked the campy feeling of my original vision, it was still a nice presentation and, particularly if you celebrate Christmas as a religious holiday, worth the trip.

*I was instructed to turn my headlights off as they "scare the donkey".

The Sexiest Scent a Man Can Wear

2008-12-05T08:37:00.000-08:00

I shall spin you another Tom story. For those of you who have not encountered Tom in this blog before, he is my formerly single friend, who once lived a life of the most shameless bachelorhood a man could hope to live. He lived in Palo Alto, not far from the Staford University campus where his roommate was a student. Via said roommate, Tom gained many an opportunity to work his charms on nubile young Stanford scholars.

Scene 1 (A fine Saturday morning): In a manner not typical of bachelors, Tom has just passed several hours cleaning his apartment. Once finished he relaxes, beer in hand, surveying his handiwork with a satisified smile. Soon his roommate strolls in, and after some boyish banter invites Tom like to join him at a party. Anxious to take his many talents and charms out for a spin, Tom immediately departs, neglecting to shower.

Scene 2 (The party) We pan in slowly on Tom chatting with an attractive young lady: She leans into him, drawing her breath deeply through her nose. Alarmed, Tom backs away, worried that neglecting his ablutions may have left him with an excessively manly odor. Once again she sniffs, and despite himself, Tom shoots her a quizzical glance. Seeing his confusion, she asks, "Is that Pinesol I smell? Because there's nothing that smells sexier on a man than Pinesol"

Co-conspirator and Now Guest Blogger!

2008-12-04T08:40:00.000-08:00

A couple months back I asked my very dear friend Joanna if she'd be interested in occasionally contributing a post to I For One..... I was delighted when she accepted. We share a very similar and warped sense of humor, and since we met, almost eight years ago together, we have succumbed to too many giggling fits to count. Some day I will ask her to share the etymology of the term "fire chops", or perhaps recount how the "Lance Armstrong Rap" came into existence. But for now, Joanna has other things on her mind:

Robin has asked me to be a guest blogger, at my leisure. Now, this was some time ago and I have to admit to being a little intimidated by her amazing blogs during the election season. We spent a lot of time talking politics, but I didn’t have the time or inclination to back-up any personal proclamations by doing the research that Robin was capable of doing. But, with her recent PMS entry, I knew I had an in! Now that is something I can relate to. And with that said – my first blog entry at “I For One.....”

I recently went off The Pill. If you’ve seen any of the new birth control commercials, and listen to all the subtle warnings they speed-talk into the end, or if you’ve even talked about birth control with your doctor, you know there are all those warnings about “women over 35”, blah, blah, blah. At 36, I thought this would be a good time to go “eau natural” and roll the dice. But, obviously there is a lot I don’t remember or even know about not being on The Pill.

I had been “on The Pill” for 18 years. I have been hormonally regulated for most of my fertile years (better living through chemistry!) The Pill has been very good to me over the years – less painful cramping, shorter periods; all the good things that come with being on The Pill. And, with the exception of a case of acne that was quickly cleared with a change in prescription, my skin has also benefited – normal to dry with the occasional pimple. Little did I know my complexion would pay the price......

Holy Cow! My forehead has become a small oil slick. I’m not sure what is producing this lovely mess, but we might be able to tap into my forehead for the Federal Oil Reserve. I’m honestly at a loss. Somewhat oily skin runs in my family (thanks Mom!) but can’t say I know what to do about it. This is completely un-natural for me. By early afternoon, I dab my forehead with a tissue and off comes any foundation I put on in the morning and that sheen that’s been festering under my bangs. I’m kinda grossed out by my own skin. So far, it’s only on my forehead – Thank goodness! I hope it doesn’t migrate south to the rest of my face. Can anyone suggest a course of action that doesn’t require burning my face off with acid?

Do You Complain?

2008-12-03T09:46:00.000-08:00

Are you a complainer? We tend to think of complainers in negative terms, as people who are constantly focused on the negative and who feel the need to make a stink about it so everyone can join them for a swim in their giant pool of crappiness. People that complain too often are generally ignored, in much the same fashion as the fabled wolf-crying boy. Too often have no worthwhile solution to offer that could mitigate their grievance. I'm starting to realize though, that a little judicious crabbing can actually be a good thing.

Case in point. Last week I went for my six month dental cleaning during which I had to sit through 45 minutes of aggressive stabbing an poking at my gums. At one point the hygienist proudly showed me a piece of gauze that she had applied to my lower gums whilst conducting this torture, noting that they were "bleeding a lot". This was a massive understatement as I could literally feel the blood gathering at my gum line after she pulled the gory fabric away. I understand that a little bleeding is sometimes a necessary part of having your teeth cleaned, particularly if you are someone who doesn't floss frequently, but I floss daily and my last cleaning was nothing like this. I asked her why so much blood and she explained in a sincere voice that they were "releasing toxins". OK, if by "toxins" you mean "massive quantities of blood". Fast forward to today, when I went back to the dentist to have a small repair made to a tooth. Noting that the offending hygienist wasn't working, I decided to speak up about my bad experience. Turns out my dentist was very appreciative. Apparently this woman was hired as a temp to cover for the regular hygienists vacation, and after my feedback, will most likely not be coming back.

Second case in point. People that won't park their car, walk a few hundred feet, and wait for their child outside their classroom really irk me. Even when Garrett was a tiny baby, I could be found, rain or shine standing outside Weston's classroom. For the last two to three weeks as walked into Garrett's school to pick him up, I have passed a woman parked on the corner of an intersection across from the school. I don't know about your state, but in California, you can't park on a corner. The corner in question is also painted in red for The Stupid and those who don't take the time to learn the more obscure rules of parking. Later, I noticed second car occupying the opposite corner, and a third double parked next to the first offender. Imagine how much I enjoyed maneuvering around these three lazy, inconsiderate boobs on narrow streets, with children and their parents crossing the road, and traffic going in three directions. So, I complained. I called the school office and requested some additional traffic enforcement at that intersection. Yesterday both corners were clear and no double parkers were in evidence. Corner parker was just getting out of her car, which was parked a mere half block further down the street, to walk in to meet her child. Complaining is a public service!

I For One Contest. Plus a Trip to the Desolate Mall

2008-12-02T10:14:00.000-08:00

I'm launching a contest here at I For One..... with the hope of coaxing you lurking readers out of the woodwork to make a comment or three. So here are the details. For every comment you post between now and December 31, you will be entered in a drawing to win a copy of Adobe Photoshop CS4 (Mac or Win, your choice). In order to be eligible, I'll need to be able to email you, so you'll need to have a Blogger account, which means no anonymous commentary. Sorry, immediate (parents and siblings) family members are excluded from this contest. In the spirit of clean competition, please try to keep your comments constructive, erudite, and worthwhile. Comments to posts older that November 1, 2008 will not be counted. Thanks for reading.

In other news... have you been to the mall lately? Because wow! Weston and I went last night (the boy has blown through yet another pair of expensive skate shoes) and the evidence of the recession is everywhere. Even in the parking lot where we were able to immediately find a parking spot about three stalls from the entrance to Sears. Upon entering the mall, I did not see a single store that wasn't advertising a sale with a big banner in their window. Prices were marked down between thirty and sixty (!!!) percent. Several jewelery stores were liquidating their assets because they were closing their doors for good (EVERYTHING MUST GO!). It was striking how many stores had only two or three people working, and by working I mean sitting around the store carrying on a conversation with their soon to be laid off co-worker. Many shops had no customers at all. Those selling relatively worthless knick knacks (carved wooden tchotchkes, scented neck warmers, stuffed sleeping cats) seemed to be suffering the worst. If things look this bad in the malls on December 1, how will they look in a month after the big shopping season is over?

The Lone Vagina (aka The PMS Post)

2008-12-01T10:39:00.000-08:00

No, this is not a post about a masked hoochie that rides around the Old West on a white horse named Silver with her trusty side kick Tonto. Instead it is meant to give those women blessed with daughters, living in a lesbian relationship, or otherwise fortunate enough to share their domicile with an estrogen producing being, what it is like to be a lone woman living in a house with all males. It means:

Knowing there is always a puddle of urine somewhere in the vicinity of one of your toilets.

Never being deprived of cleaning up that dish left next to the recliner or sofa.

Not being at all surprised to find three weeks worth of snack wrappers scattered around the computer.

Sighing in resignation as you discover that picking those wrappers up has resulted in the computer keyboard becoming filled with crumbs.

Finding identical piles of snack wrappers around the television and next to the video game console.

Walking by a sock deserted in the hallway and knowing without a shred of doubt that it will stay there until you, yourself bend over and pick it up.

Explaining multiple times that, on the floor and in the laundry basket are not the same place.

The amount of effort required to collect 6 loads of laundry, wash, dry, fold, and place them back in the appropriate drawer apparently requires less energetic outlay than dropping dirty clothes in the laundry basket.

Two sauce pans, a sieve, a measuring cup, a bowl and a spoon are necessary to make and enjoy a simple meal of dehydrated soup mix.

Surviving in a living space in which you are outnumbered by males requires infinite patients, a good sense of humor, and a keen intuition about when to just shut up and deal. All of those talents will leave you when you are deep in the throes of PMS. At that point, the prudent owner of an X and Y chromosome will quietly tip toe around the house giving you lots of extra space. My final observation? There is no such thing as a prudent owner of an X and Y chromosome.

(Steve, Weston and Garrett - I love you guys. And Steve? Thanks for doing the dishes this morning!)

Will Lower Gas Prices Loosen Your Purse Strings?

2008-11-29T14:01:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I paid $1.99 a gallon for regular gas here in San Jose, which after filling up my tank amounted to a mere $35. After that, I headed across the street to grocery shop at the semi-gourmet market near our house. I figured that the approximately $50 dollars I saved since the price of gas had come down from somewhere around $4.40 a gallon allowed me to loosen the purse strings a bit at my next stop. Which brings me to the following question: Could the economic downturn that our country is now experiencing have been avoided if the price of crude oil had not been so exorbitant and if companies like ExxonMobile had trimmed their profit margins? I wonder how much of the current woes of the Big Three auto makers is caused by the glut of the market with fuel hungry SUVs that simply sat gaining rust on the dealership lots when gas prices shot through the roof. Do you feel a little more inclined to spend a bit more this Christmas now that you aren't squandering your savings on gas? Will these lower prices act as an economic stimulus package supplied by the oil and gas corporations?

This also leads me to wonder how many businesses are now feeling a pinch because gas prices have come down so dramatically. This summer, when fuel costs were at their highest, an article came out in the San Jose Mercury News about the sudden huge demand for motor scooters. Steve and I had been talking for a while about getting a scooter, so we decided to head to a couple of dealerships to take a peek. The Honda dealership? Back ordered for two months. Another shop we visited had about five scooters left. A 2006 model sat on the showroom floor with a sold sign on it, having languished for two years before being snapped up in the current boom. At the Vespa dealership, they had about five scooters left, but suggested that we buy that weekend or they'd be gone. Everyone was planning on stocking up and new scooter shops were opening. Gas sipping scooters seemed like a great investment. Flash forward to the economic downturn and plummeting gas prices. I wonder how many 2008 scooter models now sit gathering dust on showroom floors everywhere.

Thanksgiving Garrettisms

2008-11-28T09:39:00.001-08:00

Last night, after my nephew Brandon gave a really nice prayer of thanks, the family tucked into Thanksgiving dinner with great gusto. After a few minutes of quiet conversation, it was decided that we should all share a couple of reasons why we are thankful this year. Just about everyone was thankful for good health, the presence of family, and their financial security in these times of crisis. A couple of us mentioned the new incoming Obama administration. When Steve’s brother-in-law Tim’s turn came around, he mentioned how grateful he was to have his beautiful wife Theresa by his side (hi Theresa!!) to which all but Garrett responded with “awwww”. Why not Garrett? Because he was too busy advising Tim, “get a room!” Earlier in the evening while Garrett was watching Planet Earth on the new wide screen TV, Garrett excited pointed out the baboons to Theresa. Pretending to mishear what he had said, she questioned, "The monkey's have boobs?" To which Garrett responded, "I don't think that's appropriate for an almost 9-year old".

Every year at Thanksgiving, Steve’s father, Dan, brings out one of his favorite (but somewhat ill-fated) cooking tools, the automatic whipped cream maker. This fancy device was given to him a few years ago at Christmas. Heavy cream is poured in, and the simple press of a lever causes perfectly whipped cream to shoot with considerable force from the dispenser. The Christmas he got this gift, Dan proceeded straight to the kitchen dizzy with excitement, rooted around, and was pleased to find a small container of heavy cream at the back of the fridge. Into the whipped cream maker it went and in a nick of time, he was ready to dispense. Remember the “considerable force” phrase I used, above? Well, take a moment to imagine sour whipped cream shooting across the kitchen. The one trick to the fancy dispenser is that its nozzle must be angled down at 45 degrees to the surface upon which the cream is being placed. Dan found, that to do otherwise, results in a large area in front of the user being painted with the contents. In this particular case, it was rotten whipping cream.

After dinner, it was time for pie, and out came the fancy cream whipper/dispenser. We all sat down an enthusiastically enjoyed the apple and pumpkin pies Theresa had baked. The boys’ pies each had a generous dollop of cream. Garrett, upon sitting down, had pledged that his first slice of apple pie was just the first of five he planned to consume. True, as always, to his word Garrett asked for a slice of pumpkin pie next. Having watched Weston shoot a little mountain of whipped cream on his second piece of pie, Garrett insisted he be given a chance to serve his own cream too. Steve wisely suggested that this would only happen if he, Steve, acted as a spotter. His father sat across the table from Garrett, and warned Garrett that the nozzle needed to be pointed straight down. As the words left his mouth, with Steve’s helping hand, Garrett pressed the lever. Whipped cream exited the dispenser with such force that the back crust of the pie was blown off the pie and onto the table, and Steve’s father found himself, once again the victim of his cooking device, wearing a large amount of whipping cream. This year, I am thankful that my father-in-law has a good sense of humor.

And finally, in totally unrelated news, but still needing mention because of its awesomeness, the Macy's Thanksgiving parade featured a live Rickroll!

Speedfit - The Exercise Revolution for the Gullible

2008-11-23T16:40:00.000-08:00

I have no idea how much this thing costs, but if you consider this a worthwhile investment, I have another invention to sell you. Yes!!! Exercise goggles with a wide variety of virtual urban scenery. Your exercise routine won't bore you anymore! VirtualVision will supply you with exciting visual stimuli while you exercise. Imagine being able to see houses, hike and bike trails, artificial track surfaces, any many other stimulating virtual environments during your morning run. Operators are standing by. Call now!

Callous Sarah Palin Averts Eyes to Turkey Suffering

2008-11-21T17:28:00.000-08:00

As any regular visitor of my blog knows, I am no fan of Sarah Palin, but I'm about to defend her from the latest round of negative publicity she's getting. According to this article (with YouTube video embedded) the governor was invited to a turkey farm to pardon one of the birds that was about to be slaughtered for someone's Thanksgiving meal. "After the pardon Palin proceeded to do an interview with a local TV station while the turkeys were being SLAUGHTERED in the background!! Seemingly oblivious to the gruesomeness going on over her shoulder, she carries on talking for over three minutes." Three minutes? Oblivious to gruesomeness? She should be taken out and stoned, right? Wrong.

This is a woman who shoots caribou for sport. What does the author expect Palin to do? Put a full body tackle on the dude in the trucker hat that's shoving turkeys into a life-ending device of some sort whilst screaming "Noooo, not the turkeys!!"? Less than a week from now, millions of Americans are going to gather around the table to enjoy a delicious feast of turkey that met its demise in this exact manner. You may not like Sarah Palin, but if you want to stop the "SLAUGHTER" of turkeys, or if you feel that this is "kind of gruesome", you need to look a bit further than Alaska's governor or even Trucker Hat for a villain. I'm afraid those millions of turkey-eating Americans, many of whom voted for Obama are the real bad guys.

A New Leaf Turned

2008-11-21T13:36:00.000-08:00

Today was the day for our big parent teacher conference with Garrett's 3rd grade teacher, and as we have since 1st grade, we girded our loins for the usual "Garrett is a bit of a trouble-maker" talk. Surprisingly, it didn't go down that way. Every year his teachers tell us that Garrett is a very bright boy and that academics are not an issue at all. He is always way ahead of where he needs to be with his reading skills, learns quickly, and generally glides through his class work with the grace of Dorothy Hamill on ice skates. This year was no different. What was different was that his teacher did not speak of his behavior through clenched teeth accompanied by flared nostrils. While our little boy wonder is by no means the class angel, he seems to be making great progress towards being less disruptive and more focused.

Now I'm trying to figure out what has caused this change. Is it that Garrett is maturing? Maybe as each year progresses, he'll get better at suppressing his urges to make random bizarre vocalizations or fart sounds, or allow his chair to fall on him to provoke the laughter of his class mates. Could it be that his teacher is simply better at coping with Garrett than others that preceded her, and that next year we could be once again back in conference hell? Or have the consequences that I have imposed at home begun to make a difference so that he is now motivated to fly the straight and narrow so he can enjoy all his usual privileges? Whatever the cause, Steve and I are immensely enjoying this new phase and have taken the time to congratulate Garrett on a new leaf well turned.

Obama Memorabilia

2008-11-20T11:33:00.000-08:00

After seeing a segment on the Daily Show about Barack Obama merchandise (commemorative coins and plates) , I thought it would be an interesting exercise to go online and see what sort of bizarre Obama themed items were available for purchase. Here is what I turned up.

T-shirts were plentiful and to be expected. Everyone wears t-shirts, and who doesn't want to display their affection for their candidate on their chest? What was surprising however, were the number of maternity t-shirts bearing Obama's name or visage. Does the enlarged belly provide a better substrate upon which to advertise? I see a business opportunity here for gestating ladies. T his one was the strangest by far. What does "Drain McCain's Brain With Obama Drama" mean? Does it suggest that the election of Obama will be a step towards McCain existing only in a chronic vegetative state? Who knew that we, the voters, had that power? Clothing for pets that voted Democratic was also available. I found this one cute, but confusing. Was an Obama/Clinton ticket ever an option? Apparently that fashion conscious pooch never got the memo.

Ebay featured some really interesting Obamabilia, including nothing less than an entire bowling alley for a starting bid of $50,000. Or for $100,000 you could buy the domain name www.obamafundraising2012.com. How much would you bid on a set of playing cards that feature Barack Obama on the Aces, and oddly a jaguar with Obama's head on the 10 of spades? Other cards in this set feature Jon Stewart as a groundhog on the 2 of diamonds and a very youthful looking George Bush head perched on the body of a red rat snake. Try not to hurt yourself scratching your head over that one. An Obama bobble head doll could be yours for just $20. What says "I'm proud of my president" more that enshrining his image in a figurine with no control over it's upper extremities? At a certain point I began to be overwhelmed by the vast selection of strange items commemorating our president elect that could be purchased from Ebay. I decided it was time to quit looking when I came across the matched set of Obama and McCain sock monkeys. It could only go downhill from there.

Let Them Eat Quail

2008-11-15T13:10:00.000-08:00

George Bush hosted a dinner at the White House on Friday night for foreign leaders attending the much ballyhooed economic crisis summit. You know, George Bush, the people's president. The guy we were all supposed to be able to relate to, or perhaps even have a beer with. What would you expect this football-loving, English-language mangling, every man's guy to serve at an economic crisis dinner for a bunch of foreign heads of state? Something elegant, but yet also bespeaking a certain level of concern for the current economic state of his people, right? Nothing over-the-top that would scream luxury to the rooftops of course.

Well, apparently the Dude in Chief has forsaken his common guy image in the waning days of his presidency because here's the menu. Fruitwood-smoked quail with quince gastrique; quinoa risotto; thyme-roasted rack of lamb; tomato, fennel and eggplant fondue; an endive salad, baked brie and walnuts; and a pear torte for dessert. The main course was paired with bottles of Shafer Cabernet "Hillside Select" 2003, priced at $300 per bottle.

Now let's be totally realistic here. When the president of the United States, the leader of the free world is entertaining a bunch for foreign dignitaries, he can't realistically serve burgers and fries. I also acknowledge that this is not a case of caviar, white truffles, and Dom Perignon, a la AIG. But when the very reason for this gathering is the economic meltdown of the world's economy, the menu seems to merit a bit closer critical scrutiny. Rachael Maddow put it best (once again) when she said "Ixnay on the uxerylay guys".

OK, Then None Of Us Will Be "Married"

2008-11-14T20:33:00.000-08:00

When I heard the initial reports that came out that stated the African American voters who came to the polls to vote for Obama but againt Prop 8 had made the difference between Proposition 8 passing or being defeated, I thought about addressing that issue here. The reason I didn't, was that the notion of scapegoating that community seemed like a step in the wrong direction at at time when racial division seemed to be waning. Now that Nate Silver at fivethirtyeight.com has debunked that myth, I'm glad I didn't fan any flames. Turns out the margin by which Prop 8 passed would have been much larger if young, progressive Obama voters had not turned out.

Now for another notion regarding Prop 8. How many people are so attached to the term "marriage" as it pertains to their union, that they would not be willing to give it up? What if instead of being married we were all "legally joined" (you pick the terminology you like). Remiel proposes that the term marriage be thrown out as a legal definition of a union between a man and a woman. Instead, all such unions should be referred to as "civil unions", leaving the term "marriage" to be applied by religious institutions and putting church and state in their separate spaces. This would level the legal playing field for gays and and heterosexuals, while leaving religious institutions the right to refuse the right of being "married" (it really is just a word after all) to those who offend their sensibilities. Would you agree to that change to our constitution?

Recession? Depression? How Will the Story End?

2008-11-13T11:18:00.000-08:00

The last few days have been extremely busy, but that alone does not explain my neglect of my blog. Once the election was over and I had said all that was on my mind about Proposition 8, anything else that I could write about here began to feel pretty trite. I will certainly continue posting here as often as I can muster up a meaningful topic, but now that I have met my NaBloPoMo goal for October, I am once again going to try to focus on quality and content rather than just getting a daily post up on my site.

To that end, I'm going to address something today that has really been weighing on me heavily, and has, I am certain, been on everyone else's mind. Just how low can we go? Every time I hear a fresh report that the stock market has taken another big dive, I cringe as I imagine several thousand more dollars hemorrhaging out of our nest egg. The most difficult thing about this, is all of the unknowns. How much longer will this go on? Will I be able to find a new job? Will Steve be able to hang onto his? How much worse will it get, and when it does start to get better, will it improve so slowly that our kids will still be feeling the effects when they try to get jobs? Nothing that I have gone through in the past has prepared me to really deal with all of this.

When I was in high school, a social studies teacher assigned my class the task of finding and interviewing someone who lived through the Great Depression. I chose to visit my great Aunt Betty in the retirement home where she lived so I could listen to her story. That I remember nothing of what she told me speaks volumes. Had I any inkling at that time that I myself could face similar circumstances as an adult, I think her words might have sliced through the never-may-care attitude of youth, and have stayed with me. Which makes me wonder, what stories will we tell our grandchildren about 2008 and the great financial crisis thereof?

Here are a couple of very sobering excerpts from the Wikipedia page on the Great Depression:

"The Great Depression was not a sudden total collapse. The stock market turned upward in early 1930, returning to early 1929 levels by April, though still almost 30 percent below the peak of September 1929.

"...consumers, many of whom had suffered severe losses in the stock market the previous year, cut back their expenditures by ten percent..."

"In early 1930, credit was ample and available at low rates, but people were reluctant to add new debt by borrowing. By May 1930, auto sales had declined to below the levels of 1928. Prices in general began to decline, but wages held steady in 1930, then began to drop in 1931.""

Does any of this sound familiar? Nobody can say for certain whether or not we are headed for the next Great Depression, but our economic outlook is undoubtedly the worst it has been at any time since the depression finally came to an end.

The other day, I asked Steve, if he could imagine what it would be like to wake up each morning being Barack Obama, now that he is to be our next president. I believe that many of the tears of joy around the world came from the hope that this man could begin to change the course that the worldwide economy is currently on. To get up each morning, knowing that the entire world is counting on him and his advisers to make the right decisions must be very sobering. One man and one country cannot make all of the changes that need to be made, and forward progress will be slow, but my greatest hope is that President Obama rises to the challenge and gives me a story with a happy ending for my grandchildren.

Justifying the No Vote

2008-11-09T14:29:00.000-08:00

Since Tuesday, I've heard quite a few people defend their choice to vote in favor of Proposition 8 both in person and in the media, and a theme seems to be emerging. People that otherwise believe that minority groups should receive equal rights, seem to have a difficult time applying this concept to gays. They reason that people are born to a particular race, but that homosexuality is a lifestyle choice. The color of one's skin is a genetic twist of fate that is thrust upon an unfortunate percentage of our population through no wrongdoing on their part, whilst gay people choose to swim against the tide of human conformity to be with their own sex. These same people often argue that homosexuality is unnatural. After all, why would God (or Mother Nature if you prefer) have made pregnancy and the continuation of the human species the outcome of the coupling of male and female if he intended us to mate with our own gender?

I'll confess that when I started college, I was one of those people that just didn't understand why anyone would want to be gay. After all, who would chose to be the subject of jokes and discrimination? I didn't know any gay people and thought of them as well, queer. I remember realizing with horror that I had worn jeans to school on "Gay Bluejeans Day" at UCSD. What if someone had mistaken ME for one of THEM! Growing up in ultraconservative La Jolla obviously didn't expose me to much diversity. My attitude began to change when a panel of gay and lesbian students spent an hour conducting a question and answer session as part of a psychology class in which I was enrolled. As we filed into the lecture hall, a series of questions was written on the blackboard.

Why did you chose to be a heterosexual?
How old were you when you decided to be heterosexual?
Would sleeping with someone of your own sex maybe change your mind about being heterosexual?
Why do you like the opposite sex more than the same sex?

Flipping the question around was enough to at least allow me to consider that homosexuality wasn't a choice.

Studies have shown that if one identical twin is homosexual the other twin is more likely to be homosexual, but when one fraternal twin is gay the likelihood of the other twin being homosexual is the same as when two non-twin siblings are compared. This suggests that genetics rather than environment has some roll in determining sexual orientation. Exposure to prenatal hormones is also thought to influence sexual orientation. There is also some evidence that the youngest sibling in a family of multiple male children may be more likely to be homosexual. The point is, that homosexuality appears to be much less a conscious choice than it is the result of a complicated interaction between the environment and genetic predisposition.

If homosexuality is aberrant or dysfunctional, why does it persist? Why hasn't natural selection eliminated this trait and further why does it occur even in non-human animals? This article explains a couple of theories on how different forms of a gene could confer a reproductive advantage for the gay individual or a close relative, thus causing the gene to persist. What about gay animals? Do they exist outside of South Park (Super! Thanks for asking!)? In fact, according to this article, homosexuality has been documented in "over 450 different vertebrate species", including the male bighorn sheep. This sounds like a case of Brokeback Mutton to me.

So, if homosexuality is not truly a lifestyle choice, shouldn't civil rights legislation be extended to gays for the same reasons that it is extended to women and minority groups? Maybe the religious right would feel more at ease with legislation allowing gay marriage if they could begin to understand that homosexuality is really part of God's big plan for all of us. Along with Adam and Eve, he really did create Adam and Steve. Do you think they'll buy it?

If You're Still Pissed About Prop 8

2008-11-07T21:18:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Mikki, who posted a comment in response to my last post, I have a link to another petition, in addition to the one Stephanie Geffeller posted, that you may sign to voice your opinion about Proposition 8 passing. Here is a link to the petition which seeks to strip the Mormon church of its tax exempt status due to excessive participation in "carrying on propaganda" and "attempting to influence legislation". I encourage you to read through this legislation, form your own opinions, and sign the petition (as I did) if you agree with their arguments.

There is one section of this petition that I disagree with vehemently. It reads as follows:

"For the past six months, Mormons misled Californians about the effects of the Supreme Court ruling.

They told us we would lose the right to participate in our children's education. Lies.

They told us the California state public school curriculum would be modified to teach sex education to kindergartners. Lies.

They told us churches would lose the right to free speech. Lies."

Remember when I said "Take a minute to read the arguments from both sides. If you can't or won't take the time to get educated, please don't vote. Stay home and leave it to those of us who are willing to vote with our brains and our conscience, not just follow popular sentiment like a bunch of sheep." I wonder if some of you were taken aback that I would discourage people from going to the voting booth. Well, the outcome of the vote on Proposition 8, and the comments above are exactly why I made that statement.

If you watched TV, read the fliers that came in the mail, listened to the ads on the radio, or saw all the signs in people's front yards and blindly voted in favor of Prop 8 without investigating the full implications of a yes vote, then you are as much at fault as the people who propagated these "lies". So yes, please, go to the above URL, read the information they provide, and make an informed decision. Take the time to follow the links that they provide to back up the statements that they make.

A moment that truly struck me as I worked at a polling place near my house on Tuesday was a young man who walked up to the touch screen voting machine, with no cheat sheet, not voter guide, no nothing in his hand and completed his vote in the space of about 5 minutes. It took me well over an hour in front of my computer, pouring over all sorts of information, to make up my mind about all of the different candidates, ballot measures, and propositions that needed my vote. It is high time that the American public shakes themselves out of their apathetic state and takes the time to really get educated before they vote. I am so tired of people who disconnect their brains and simply vote the way their church, their co-worker, their spouse, or their political party suggests they should vote. This is your country. This is your vote. This is the founding principal of democracy. Please, take the requisite time to decide if the way you are voting really makes sense!

Whew. Done now. Thanks for listening.

Prop 8 Petition

2008-11-06T16:14:00.000-08:00

An open letter to the Governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger, requesting that he "re-open" Proposition 8, is being circulated. If you are a resident of California and are interested in signing it, the link here. The petition was authored by Stephanie Geffeller, upon whom a Google search, returns pretty much no information. I have no idea what signing this petition will accomplish, but for those of us who were left with the bitter taste of discrimination in our mouths by the passage of Proposition 8, it gives us a place to voice our opinion.

Some will say that we all got the chance to voice our opinion on November 4 in the voting booth. I agree. If you were against Proposition 8 and didn't take the time to vote, this is me shaking my head in disappointment at you. Here is why I signed the petition though. While I agree that the voters have spoken, and now it is time to let democracy take its course, a vote that takes civil liberties away from a group of people really sticks in my craw. (Hell, I'm even willing to give the Mormons back their right to plural marriage if it'll make them leave the gay community alone. I wonder if they'd still want it if women were allowed to marry more than one man? But I digress.) I also take issue with changing the constitution of our state based on something that roughly half of Californians don't agree with. Finally, it is deeply disappointing to people all over the country that during a time when we took a huge step forward as a country by electing an African American to our highest office, we took three smaller steps back when Arizona, Florida, and California voters banned gay marriage.

Prop 8 Passes. Would 52.2% Of You Please Move?

2008-11-05T12:14:00.000-08:00

As happy as I am about the outcome of the presidential election, I would have considered yesterday flawless if Proposition 8 had gone down in defeat. I am very very pleased with 47.8 percent of Californians. The rest of you, please move to another state where your intolerance will be appreciated and accepted. You may make your selection from one of the following: Utah, Florida, or Arizona. I've heard Arizona has a dry heat, for those of you with hair frizzing issues.

For the rest of us that will remain behind, those that voted against Proposition 8, it is time for all of us to do a some soul searching to figure out why our once reliably blue state seems to be turning a sickly shade of purple. We've elected a Republican to our highest office, and now we have passed two bans on gay marriage. What's next? Are we to become one of those dreaded swing states? I don't support partisan politics. I believe in electing the right man for the job, regardless of party affiliation, but this trend towards ultra-conservative thinking has me worried. Hasn't it always been conventional wisdom that as goes California, so goes the rest of our nation? Is this the charge we want to lead? This is the dawn of a new a more hopeful era for our nation. It makes me sad the sunrise has to be marred by the smelly smokestack of intolerance on our state's horizon that represents Proposition 8.

We Did It, America!

2008-11-05T10:16:00.000-08:00

I find myself almost speechless in the face of the enormity of what we, as a country, just accomplished. I am so proud of what America just did. Not because we elected the first African American as the president of the United States, but because we elected the right person and the best person as our leader. In spite of the cawing and clamoring rhetoric of fear, divisiveness and mistrust that came from the Republican candidate and his running mate, we chose to elect Barack Obama for his integrity, his dignity, the hope for our future that his campaign inspired.

As I heard the news that Obama had been declared the winner, I was quite literally brought to tears. While the alternative outcome would have moved us forward as a nation from eight horrible years of mishandling of our nation, President Obama will do more. He will raise our stature around the world. No longer will we been seen as the nation that elected George W. Bush to not just one, but two terms in office. Bush, the man who led us into an unnecessary war, who deserted Louisiana in its hour of need, who ran up a 5 trillion dollar deficit, and through it all was resilient in his belief in his policies, his administration, and his presidency. The choice of Barack Obama will be viewed by the rest of the world as a rejection of George Bush, the Republican Party, and the disastrous policies of the last eight years. As a nation, we chose a man who has integrity, intelligence, and the willingness entertain ideas, even of those who oppose him. Once again, there will be a reason to look to the United States as a nation to be admired and respected. This transcends gender, race, religion, and political affiliation. This is history in the making.

A couple of posts to Twitter summed up this whole thing up for me. One of my favorites was this one:

The pendulum has swung back with such force, it's come off the fucking clock. This is good. This is natural.

This one really struck a chord with me as well:

Went outside. Quiet here in the 'hood. Neighbor walked by and said, "Well, it's over. Barack Obama!" I said "I hope so" & burst into tears.

Finally, like him or not, you could not fail to be moved by seeing the Reverend Jesse Jackson with tears streaming down his face. This is a man who saw his mentor, Martin Luther King, brutally murdered. Forty years later, watching a black man be elected president of the United States must have drained the poison from some very old wounds. Jackson's face, a trail of tears of happiness and pride making their way down his face, and the hopeful faces of so many African Americans in the crowd at Grant Park truly make me proud to call myself an American.

Quick Hello/Working the Polls

2008-11-04T14:24:00.001-08:00

Hi all. Just checking in to let you know that I spent the morning working at a polling precinct near by house. I'm going to spend the rest of the day, after picking the boys up from school, glued to my television, my laptop, and possibly posting the occasional tweet at Twitter. GO OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!! Will be back to regular blogging tomorrow.

The McItchy and McScratchy Show

2008-11-03T16:46:00.000-08:00

The video in this link (sorry, can't embed this bad boy) is eerily reminiscent of this:

Rx for Election Anxiety

2008-11-03T09:38:00.001-08:00

Well, this is it. Today is the last day of nail-biting anxiety over the outcome of the election. After today, no more checking the polls to see how Obama's numbers look. No further need for shaking my head at right-wing wacko reports on the Democratic candidate's "associations". My fingers are crossed that we'll be seeing the last of Sarah Palin, despite our collective enjoyment of Tina Fey's mastery of Palin's Fargo honk.

It occurred to me the other day, while driving around San Jose doing errands, that everyone has their own way of dealing with pre-election anxiety. For me, blogging has become a great outlet. For others, the need to see their audience drives them outside, like the two men I saw standing in a heavy downpour waving No on 8 signs and shouting to passing motorists. Some people need to take action. Indystar.com reports that "more than 10,000 Obama volunteers in Ohio were knocking on doors and planning to hit their one millionth home Sunday after a five-day push". I had planned to go to Obama headquarters and volunteer with the get out the vote effort for a couple of hours, but Garrett waking up with a stomach ache this morning put a crimp in those plans.

Voters of all persuasion are particularly active on Twitter, and last night I could help stirring the pot of dissension a little bit. I had the following exchange with a couple of people, one who asserted that Barack Obama supports infanticide. My reply was that Obama likely eats babies for breakfast and kicks puppies too. A third person (sense of humor intact, apparently) replied "Dammit will you people get the lie RIGHT!!! Obama eats puppies and kicks babies, NOT the other way around." Ahh, I love social networking! I highly recommend using one of these outlets over the next 24 to 48 hours in order to connect with like-minded people and to salve your wounded sanity.

Prop 8 Domino Theory

2008-11-02T07:49:00.000-08:00

For those of you domino theorist who believe that the defeat of Proposition 8 will lead to people sauntering down the aisle, in connubial bliss with their dogs, here are a couple of other dominoes to consider.

One of the groups backing Proposition 8 is the Mormon church. They have raised in excess of $12 million in support of a ban on gay marriage. What will the Mormon church back next? Although they have officially renounced plural marriage, if we as voters allow the morals and values of a religious group to define the law in our state, couldn't this lead to a push at some later date to re-institute plural marriage? Picture your husband or wife coming home and telling you to make room in your closet for spouse number two. And consider this: your children WILL be reading books in school about a handsome prince who finds and marries TWO princesses.

And if we allow our laws to be dictated by one church, won't others step up to get out the vote in favor of their beliefs? Will we be forced to accept the teachings of Scientology also? Will the next Proposition on the ballot be one that outlaws any noise during labor and delivery because it may induce engrams? And if we follow Yes on 8 "logic" your children will be forced to learn about Dianetics and to take free stress tests in school, and you won't be able to do ANYTHING ABOUT IT.

One of the arguments that proponents of Proposition 8 make is that allowing gay marriage erodes the value of this union. But aren't there other things that undermine marriages? What will voters be asked to ban next? Will we outlaw going out drinking with your buddies after work, not picking your dirty socks up off of the floor, failing to perform your, erm... marital duties with sufficient frequency? Surely running up excessive credit card debt, extramarital affairs, and divorce should be stricken from the Things Allowed Withing the Bounds of Marriage column also.

I only half jest, because our founding fathers had a pretty good idea of what the consequences of non separation of church and state could lead to. Thomas Jefferson wrote:

"History, I believe, furnishes no example of a priest-ridden people maintaining a free civil government." and "In every country and in every age, the priest has been hostile to liberty. He is always in alliance with the despot, abetting his abuses in return for protection to his own..."

What Jefferson is suggesting is that to use religion as a moral yard stick to determine the laws of our state or nation, is to erode the freedoms and civil liberties this country holds dear. Please vote No on 8.

Twitter Mock Election

2008-11-01T11:44:00.000-07:00

I love social networking! Twitter is holding a mock presidential election. Vote and follow the results here. To vote, you need to sign up for a Twitter account. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that Twitter voters do not accurately represent all American voters, but the following screen shot (as of 11:45 on Saturday morning) just makes me happy!

5209 Votes

Mr. Barack Obama

1080 Votes

Mr. John McCain

Another Yes on 8 Flier Has Arrived

2008-10-31T09:59:00.000-07:00

Did anyone else in California get that glossy flier paid for by Protect Marriage.com that is covered in falling dominoes? Presumably the message that they are trying to convey is that if Prop 8 is defeated, allowing gays to marry is just one more tumbling domino in a long line that will drive California into a downward spiral of debauchery and corruption. Interestingly, this flier provides footnotes for each of their claims, so having nothing else to do (hello, no job here!!) I figured I'd use my trusty friend the internet to do a little investigating.

Claim number 1: California law requires 96% of schools to teach children as young as kindergarten about marriage. This was footnoted with a reference to California's Education Code Section 51933. Here is what it actually says about marriage:

"School districts may (emphasis mine) provide comprehensive sexual health education, consisting of age-appropriate instruction, in any kindergarten to grade 12..."

"A school district that elects (again, emphasis mine) to offer comprehensive sexual health education pursuant to subdivision (a), whether taught by school district personnel or outside consultants, shall satisfy all of the following criteria:"

I won't list all of the criteria, save those that actually pertain to the above claim. It is true that the Education Code provides for teaching about marriage:

"Instruction and materials shall teach respect for marriage and committed relationships."

Nowhere in the code does it state that schools are "required" to teach about marriage. The flier also claims that courts ruled that parents had no right to withdraw their children from classes that taught gay marriage. There is no footnote referencing that court ruling. From personal experience, I know that when my kids were in both elementary school and middle school, I was warned well in advance that "sexual health" classes were being taught, and that I was given the option to not have my child participate. This was an option I did NOT exercise.

Claim number 2: Gay marriage is already being taught in California. It is true that a public school took a first grade class to see their teacher's lesbian wedding at San Francisco City Hall. An article about this appeared in the San Francisco Chronicle on October 11, 2008. San Francisco mayor Gavin Newsom officiated over the ceremony, and got reamed out on the air for it yesterday by local talk show host Ronn Owens. I say, good for you Ronn. This was a stupid move on the part of the school and San Francisco's mayor that only served to substantiate the claims of Prop 8 proponents. Stupidity not withstanding, the fact remains that these children did not, and could not have been taken on this field trip without the written consent of their parents. The right to withhold that consent will not be taken away if Prop 8 is defeated.

Claim number 3. In Massachusetts, court papers were filed by proponents of No on 8 to mandate the instruction of gay marriage in schools. Here is the real story of what went down in Massachusetts. A couple of teachers (one kindergarten and one second grade) read to or provided their students books to read that taught tolerance of gay lifestyles. The parents argued that these actions violated their and their children's right to "free exercise of religion or due process". They asked that they be given prior notice that such materials would be presented so that they could choose to remove their children from this teaching. The courts ruled that sufficient notice HAD been given to the parents, that the burden of proof that their free exercise of religion had not been violated, and that there was no evidence of indoctrination of children because they were not forced to read the materials or punished if they were not read. This court ruling had nothing to do with a mandate on the teaching of gay marriage in schools.

In a perfect world, parents would always be able to teach their children about sexuality in their own time and in their own way. The fact is that whether Prop 8 passes or not, same sex couples are already raising kids together. My children currently go to school with the kids of gay marriages. Judging by the number of Yes on 8 signs in my neighborhood, there is some indoctrination on the subject of gay unions happening at home already. I would rather have my children taught tolerance of gay unions (whether Prop 8 passes or not) by their teachers, than have the children of religious fundamentalists teach them their own views on the playground. Vote no on Prop 8.

Is Political Sign Vandalism the Answer?

2008-10-30T09:15:00.000-07:00

There has been a great deal of cross talk in the press and non-mainstream media about supporters of the McCain campaign being badly behaved. I think it's safe to say that, accurate or not, there have been fewer reports about the antics of Democratic supporters. Perhaps this is because we liberals have taken a more covert approach to voicing our opinions. No appearing on camera calling the other guy a terrorist, socialist or similar political epithet. Our style is more along the lines of lawn sign vandalism or out right theft.

Here in the quiet, unassuming little town of San Jose a rash of incidents have been reported by proponents of Proposition 8. It began with the simple theft of lawn signs, but then escalated. The Mercury News reported that one couple whose sign was repeatedly stolen, placed a large Yes on 8 banner on their garage. In response, an SUV with the words "bigots live here" lettered on the back window and an arrow indicating the proper residence was parked for several days in front of their home. Another family not only had their sign stolen, but their car was spray painted as well.

Now a southern California man is fighting back. When his McCain/Palin banner was repeatedly stolen from his front yard he rigged the sign up with an electrical charge, courtesy of a pet fence, then trained a video camera on the sign. He didn't have to wait long before a nine-year-old boy, Obama/Biden sign (presumably to replace the offending banner) clutched in his sweaty paw, got the shock of his life. Not long after, the boy's mother showed up, demanding to know why her son had been electrocuted.

Why do I relate these stories here on my rabidly Democratic-leaning little blog? Because they nicely illustrate that the GOP has not cornered the market on stupid responses to disagreeing with another's point of view. Remember that "disagree without being disagreeable" thing? Next time you see a Yes on 8 or McCain/Palin sign in somebody's front yard or on the bumper of their car, take a deep breath and ask yourself if this type of sign or sticker has ever influenced your vote on an issue that really resonates with you. Yeah maybe you've ticked the box for some City Council member whose name you recognize from your neighbor's front lawn, but would one of those signs really change your mind on a big issue like abortion, gay marriage, or your presidential candidate? Instead of stealing their sign, or spray painting their house or car, why not leave the sign alone, and leave a flaming bag of dog poop on their front step instead?

The Rachel Maddow Football Analogy

2008-10-29T13:15:00.000-07:00

I have to give a big thank you to my mother for telling me repeatedly to "watch Rachel Maddow, she's great". I started watching TRMS a couple of weeks ago on that recommendation and couldn't agree more. The following clip does an amazing job of demonstrating just how great Rachel Maddow is. Not only did she brilliantly explain the whole concept of battleground states, but she almost made me understand and appreciate football. Way to go Rachel.

The Yes on Prop 8 Mice Have Been Here!

2008-10-29T08:21:00.000-07:00

The Yes on Prop 8 people came in the night this week! They came quietly, and without ringing the doorbell or knocking, sneaked away, leaving an orange flier filled with bold underlined warnings. The warnings had to be there of course, because apparently the conservative viewpoint can't be sold without a heaping serving of fear. According to this flier, we've all been robbed of our constitutional rights by those low-down dirty scoundrels known as the "liberal activists and judges". So this made me curious. What does California's constitution say about marriage? It says that "no contract of marriage, if otherwise duly made, shall be invalidated for want of conformity to the requirements of any religious sect." Nowhere does it specify the gender of the individuals that may be married.

So who are these folks that introduced Proposition 22 to the ballot and that are in favor of Proposition 8? My new friend, the bright orange flier tells me that the "California Family Council participated with the ProtectMarriage.com coalition" to place Proposition 22 on the ballot. The mission of the California Family Council is, according to their website "to protect and foster Judeo-Christian principles in California’s laws, for the benefit of its families". So in effect, what the California Family Council is asking us to do by voting for Proposition 8, is to invalidate gay marriage because it does not conform to Judeo-Christian principals. Now who's trying to rob you of your constitutional rights? Please vote no on Proposition 8.

McCain's Blah Blah Blah

2008-10-28T09:55:00.000-07:00

Senator McCain is at it again! What is with his dismissive attitude about nuclear safety? During a recent rally in northern Iowa University he said, "You know, the other night in the debate with Senator Obama, I said his eloquence is admirable, but pay attention to his words. We talk about offshore drilling and he said he would quote, consider, offshore drilling. We talked about nuclear power, well it has to be safe, environment, blah, blah, blah." During the second debate McCain dismissively stated that Obama's opinion on nuclear power was that it has to be "safe or disposable or something like that." All his feelings about Senator Obama or his proposed approach to nuclear power aside, his repeated dismissal of concerns about nuclear power scare me.

It is an indisputable fact that while nuclear power is an important and valuable option to explore in the search for energy independence, the safety of nuclear power is a real concern. Between 1952 and 2006 there have been 23 accidents at nuclear power plants which have caused substantial health damage, property damage or contamination. All of these incidents were related directly to radioactive material. None resulted from military use of nuclear material for defense purposes. These accidents are not all ancient history. Since 2000 there have been four such accidents. Increased safety measures appear to have resulted in a decrease in deaths and/or injuries, however as recently as 1999, workers have been exposed to radiation in excess of allowable limits.

One of the most well-known nuclear power plant accidents occurred in 1986 at the Chernobyl plant in the Ukrainian SSR. When reactor number four exploded, over 336,000 people had to be evacuated from heavily contaminated areas in Ukraine, Belarus, and Russia. Fifty-six people died as a direct result of the explosion. Four thousand deaths from cancer are estimated to have been the indirect result of this accident. Today, over 20 years later, a 19-mile exclusion zone around the Chernobyl power plant still remains evacuated.

McCain's mocking attitude in the face of Obama's concerns about nuclear safety are callous, dismissive, and strike me as staggering display of ignorance of the facts. McCain says nuclear energy is a necessary part of any equation to bring our country to energy independence, and I agree with him. But if he intends to approach the matter with this cavalier attitude, I prefer he'd keep his focus on his campaign's favored chant of "drill baby drill".

This is my NEW Life!

2008-10-27T11:45:00.000-07:00

Here is the thing that sucks about being out of work. When my house gets messy, I HAVE NO EXCUSE. I can no longer claim that I had a tight deadline I was trying to meet, or that I spent the day exhausting myself doing field work. Instead my unmopped floors, nasty toilets, and their close cousins, last night's dirty dishes, sit staring at me, accusing me of laziness.

To that end, this morning found me on Google. Instead of looking up the current status of black-flowered figwort, or trying to find a shapefile that shows where critical habitat has been set aside for the California tiger salamander, I was trying to figure out the best method for removing mildew from my shower ceiling. Did you know that you shouldn't use bleach? Instead, scrubbing with an ammonia and baking soda solution is recommended.... Ahem. Yeah, I know. I don't find it very interesting either. But for now, until I find gainful employment, I've got no excuse.

Bring The Crazy

2008-10-26T09:22:00.001-07:00

Because staying up too late last night playing Rock Band has robbed me of what little creativity or inspiration I have ever possessed on a Sunday morning, I am going to borrow somebody else's funny. Here is my favorite clip from this week on The Daily Show:

The News One Year Ago

2008-10-25T09:43:00.000-07:00

Here is an interesting snapshot of how much has changed over the last year, and how much hasn't. This is some of the news we were talking about at this time one year ago:

In an article that appeared in RealMoney, Jim Cramer said October 2007 was "the month where pretty much everything went awry in America. October 2007 proved to be the most dismal month for retail I can recall in years..." Take a moment to read the rest of the article. This guy was amazingly prescient. The only thing he didn't see coming was how much worse October 2008 would be.

USA Today reported on the death toll in Iraq as of October 31, 2007 as "at least 3,842 members of the U.S. military." A year later the death toll is reported some where around 4,500.

On October 31, 2007, The New York Times reported that Hillary Clinton had been pummeled in a presidential debate by her rivals. This is what the article had to say about Barack Obama. "But for all the attention Mr. Obama drew to himself coming into the debate, he was frequently overshadowed by former Senator John Edwards of North Carolina, who — speaking more intensely — repeatedly challenged Mrs. Clinton’s credentials and credibility, and frequently seemed to make the case against Mrs. Clinton that Mr. Obama had promised to make." Hmm, for all his "overshadowing" John Edwards didn't stand the test of time, and now Hillary Clinton is on the campaign trail, stumping for her former rival.

And this time last year, the Democratic chairman of the House Ways and Mean Committee, "proposed a sweeping overhaul of the tax code last week, aimed at shifting more of the burden of taxation to the wealthy." Now why does that idea sound so familiar? Predictably, the GOP wasn't thrilled at the idea of rolling back Bush's tax reductions, but it seems that over the course of the last year, the Democrats have had a change of heart.

I wonder what we'll be talking about in October 2009? Who will our president be? Will it be Barack Obama? Will it be John McCain? Or......... will it be Sarah Palin? Boo! Scared you didn't I?

My Little Problem

2008-10-23T13:31:00.000-07:00

On Thursday I admitted to myself that I had become addicted to politics, that I had a real problem and that it was time to quit this stuff. When you find yourself posting sappy comments about Barack Obama to your blog well after your children have gone to bed, and then dream about the upcoming election most of the night, only to stop for a brief period to toss and turn awake worrying about its outcome, it's time to take a good hard look at your behavior.

So how has my first day on the wagon gone? Well, around 10:30 in the morning I told myself that sitting down for a few minutes while waiting for the sheets to wrinkle release in the dryer, and watching a little of last night's episode of The Daily Show couldn't hurt. After all, I needed one last hit just to get myself through this. When the show was finished, I felt like a dirty cheater.

After that I was careful to steer clear of the people and places that I know would make me want to start thinking about the presidential race again. I knew better than to navigate to the Huffington Post, the sight of many hours of elated reading about Sarah Palin's latest gaff, or John McCain's most recent use of the "c" word. I also stayed well away from CNN.com where I knew I couldn't possibly resist the multi-colored electoral college map or the siren song of its sister, the map of the latest poll numbers.

Thinking it was a safe place to go, I checked my email while last night's crud soaked off the frying pan. What I found there led me to temptation though. It was a summary of the most recent blog posts at Huffington Post, and before I knew it I was forwarding a link to CC Goldwater's blog post about how McCain has lost our vote.

Enough, I told myself. Time to get out of this house and away from my computer. I leashed up the dogs and set out for a walk, determined to enjoy the fall sunshine and clear my head of thoughts about the Powell Bounce, or Palin's $150,000 makeover. It all went well until I started seeing all of the Yes on 8 signs that have popped up over the last week in my neighborhood like mushrooms in a cow patty. Instead of listening to the crunch of the fallen leaves under my feet and enjoying all of the Halloween decorations, I caught myself with my finger poised above my neighbor's doorbell, about to ask her where I could get myself a No on 8 sign like hers.

I've decided to give myself a break. Like all addictions, this one won't be beaten in a day. Instead I'll try to limit myself to one visit a day to Huffington Post, and a quick check once a week to see how the polls look at CNN. I'm swearing off Jon Stewart all together though. At least I will after November 4th. And this time I mean it.

One More Garrettism

2008-10-23T09:54:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago we bought Garrett a black robe and scythe so he could dress as the grim reaper for Halloween. Since then, for his entertainment, he has taken to using the scythe like a fighting staff which resulted in the following conversation:

Garrett: Dang it. The head of my scythe flew off again.

Steve: That's because you keep thrashing it about.

Garrett: I'm not thrashing it about, I'm just waving it around.

Me: (shoots wine out nose laughing)

Are You One of the Real Americans?

2008-10-22T09:42:00.000-07:00

Are you a "real" American? That seems to be a question that is getting asked a lot in these last few days of the campaign. How would you answer that question? Would you look to the values that our country was founded on and see if they mirror your own? Let's just do that, shall we?

How about equal rights? That's about as American as it gets, right? Then why is it that the presidential nominee for the party that is trumpeting the loudest about the "real America" opposed a bill that would restore equal pay for legistlation for women?

Freedom of speech is pro-American, right? But is free speech still pro-American when you stand by and allow people at your rallies to scream "terrorist" and "kill him" in response to your opponent's name? Sarah Palin thinks so and apparently assumes that 37,051,483 black Americans think so too.

How about the freedom of religion? In this country we all believe that we have the right to worship the god of our choice, right? Not if you're John McCain. He thinks that Muslims are not fit to lead this country.

How about the right to make your own choices? Republicans in particular are VERY American in their stance that government should "get out of our way". Well, as long as those choices are not ones that John McCain disagrees with.

Does a real American talk about which towns the real America can be found in, or like Michele Bachmann question which members of Congress are truly pro-American? Or is this McCarthyism yet one more example of the Republican hypocrisy?

I for one am a getting really sick of being told that because I believe in equal rights for all Americans (even gays), that I don't support a war that never had any benefit for Americans, and that I think that "the health of the mother" is a really important factor in deciding whether a pregnancy should be terminated, that I am some how not pro-American. And what makes it even more annoying is to hear that against a background of people like Pat Buchanan and Rush Limbaugh spewing their racist sour grapes in the face of Colin Powell's endorsement of Barack Obama.

And in other news: Sarah Palin is going to vote Democratic and wants you to also! Thanks for the link Joanna!

I Get Lucky!

2008-10-21T09:33:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a lost day. I spent most of the day in bed with a high fever, and raging headache, and an upset stomach having been overtaken by gastroenteritis somewhere around 3:00 am the night before. With that said, I did manage to do a couple of things. Around 1:30 in the afternoon I dragged my sorry butt out of bed and got showered, and at 2:45, left the house to pick the kids up from school. This is not a minor undertaking, because Garrett gets out at 3:00 and Weston gets out at 3:40, making this about an hour-long process. When I finally got home, I had to sleep for two hours from sheer exhaustion.

Leaving Weston's school yesterday I suddenly realized that the second thing that I had accomplished was losing my wireless ear piece for my phone. I knew approximately where and when I had lost it because I had pulled it out of my ear while walking to my car at Garrett's school. I figured I must have dropped it while opening the car door. Sadly, I wrote it off as lost, smashed, or both, but this morning, a little miracle occurred. Walking Garrett in to school I glanced down at the sidewalk, and there it was, intact and still working! I think while I'm having this kind of luck, I'll go buy some lottery tickets.

Mmmmmmmonkey Farts!

2008-10-20T08:51:00.000-07:00

Please excuse a very short post today as I was up half the night with a stomach bug. In the interest of meeting my NaBloPoMo goal of posting every day for the month of October, I have dragged myself out of bed feeling like death warmed over on a piece of soggy toast. Fortunately yesterday's trip to October Fest in downtown Campbell with my girlfriends yesterday (you know who you are!) provided the necessary material. While strolling through the booths with everything from cute purses to beer, we came across a vendor selling aroma salts. They came in all sorts of nice-smelling scents, but the one that really caught our eye was monkey farts.
I'm guessing the reason they call it monkey farts is that the ingredients are all things a monkey would like to eat, thus rendering its farts sweet in the manner of coconut, orange, and banana.
As far as marketing tactics, I'm not sure this would have struck me as a good choice had all four of us not walked straight to the monkey farts and smelled them. And face it, farts.... are funny.

My Son is Being Shielded From the Press

2008-10-17T20:49:00.000-07:00

The other night I was bugging Weston for information about his love life. I got nothing. He has adopted a strict policy of not sharing any details about the opposite sex. Here is the conversation that took place in our kitchen:

Me: Weston, got any big plans this weekend? A hot date perhaps?

Weston: (shrug)

Me (to Steve): Weston won't tell me anything about his love life. I tried to get information out of him the other day and he wouldn't tell me a thing. Did you tell your mom about your love life when you were younger?

Steve: No. I didn't tell my mom anything.

Me: What about your dad? Did you share the details of your love life with your dad?

Steve (with somewhat forced enthusiasm and sincerity): Oh yes, of course! I told my dad EVERYTHING that was going on in my love life.

Weston (laughing): Nice try Dad. Very funny, but it won't work.

At that point all three of us dissolved into laughter.

Dog With a Single Horn

2008-10-17T16:05:00.000-07:00

Bo needs grooming in the worst kind of way. But the fun thing about his fur being such a god awful mess is that it can be fashioned into a variety of interesting new looks. Steve does not approve of my styling his canine companion in this manner, but I think he'll like [beat] The Unicorn:

He farts rainbows too! Oh, and Steve, is this what you meant when you said I should post more pictures?

Attitude vs. Aptitude

2008-10-17T09:17:00.000-07:00

Fair or not, the world is divided up into two kinds of children. The kind that sail through school and get A's with very little effort, and those that for a variety of reasons, struggle the entire way. As parents we tend to assume that if our children are among those that struggle, they will have to do so throughout their lives, while the gifted and talented will continue their effortless glide, as life bestows the gifts they have earned by virtue of being born lucky. But is it really that simple? Probably not, and this article explains why.

When the quick learning ability of a child is attributed by the parents to how smart this child is, or how high their IQ, this child may be at a higher risk for failure later on. As school become more difficult and requires more effort (usually around middle school) children encounter more and more problems that they cannot immediately and easily solve. In the face of these tougher challenges, children who have frequently been congratulated on their smarts often conclude that they must not be as smart as they've been lead to believe. Conversely, children that have had to struggle from their earliest days in school have learned that redoubling their efforts will typically result in finding a solution to a difficult problem. Why does this difference in attitude matter? Well, it turns out that these so-called "smart" children often feel a sense of helplessness in the face of their failed intelligence, and have a greater tendency to quit. It is easier for these children to tell themselves that they failed because they just didn't try than to admit they failed because they were not smart enough to solve the problem.

Does this mean all children that breeze through their early years at school will fall flat on their faces at the first challenge? Of course not. On the other hand, it's certainly cause for celebration for parents whose children struggle to learn those spelling words or have a hard time mastering their times tables. It's also a cautionary tale to those of us who find ourselves congratulating a child who has done well in school with the words, "What a smart kid!"

Looking Presidential

2008-10-16T14:00:00.001-07:00

One of these two men will be the next president of the United States of America. Who will you vote for?

One Last Debate Post

2008-10-16T09:42:00.001-07:00

While I won't go as far as to say he was a "breash of freath air", I (unlike many pundits who declared Joe the Plumber the winner) thought the real winner of last night's debate was Bob Schieffer. Let's face it, we didn't really hear much new from the candidates, but if you watched the debates last night, weren't there at least a few questions that made you yell, "Thank you!!!" at the TV? For example Schieffer's question about the tone of the campaigns was a great one. Along with the economy, negative campaigning has probably been among the top three issues that has influenced how people feel about both candidates. No matter who you thought scored the point on that topic, bringing the mud slinging out into the light of day went a long way towards drawing some of the poison out of the wounds that the negative campaigning has inflicted.

As far as the candidates go, once again I don't think there was a clear winner of the debate. I was much more impressed with McCain's performance in this final round than I had been. Not because I felt he did a better job answering questions, but because he manged to force Obama away from his own talking points and into a more defensive stance on almost every topic. I have to also give him a point on the Joe the Plumber topic. I was waiting for Obama to clearly explain to me why Joe the Plumber didn't have to be concerned about Obama's plan to increase Joe's taxes and spread the wealth around. I never heard that clear answer.

Then Schieffer asked the candidates if they could balance the budget, and what a shit storm of nonsense flew back from both candidates. McCain barked back, "Of course I can balance the budget" and then rather than calmly explain how, launched into a tirade about "goodies" and "pork barrel" spending that he would cut out of the budget. Specifics McCain. We want specifics. Obama didn't do any better. He never said whether he would balance the budget or not. Instead he spent most of his two minutes disputing McCain's claim that he had increased taxes for people earning more than $42,000 per year.

As with the past two debates nothing was said by either candidate that will change the course of the election. Because little or nothing that is new or substantive comes out of these debates, we the viewers are left to look at the more superficial characteristics that differentiate the candidates. This is why Obama has been considered the winner of all three debates by the majority of viewers. Where McCain is flustered, tripping over his words, clenching his jaw, knitting his eyebrows and spitting fire, Obama is calm, clear, concise, and well, presidential. While McCain throws jab after jab at his opponent, Obama with his growing lead in the polls needs only to step out of the way of these punches and appear all-the-more rational by never throwing a one of his own. Arianna Huffington put it best when she said, "It was like a split-screen double feature -- Grumpy Old Men playing side by side with Cool Hand Luke."

Now it's our turn to do the important job of voting. No matter who you vote for, please take the time to get informed before you walk into the polling booth. There are a lot of good sources of information about the candidates, the ballot measures, and the propositions that you can easily access through the web. Take a minute to read the arguments from both sides. If you can't or won't take the time to get educated, please don't vote. Stay home and leave it to those of us who are willing to vote with our brains and our conscience, not just follow popular sentiment like a bunch of sheep.

Don't Try This at Home

2008-10-15T10:32:00.000-07:00

Today I scared the crap out of myself trying something new. I decided that, in the spirit of my new frugality, I would color my own hair. Things I got for my trouble:

Hair that is a subtly different shade than it used to be. I chickened out and didn't wait the full 25 minutes for the color to set. The bright side is that people won't be shocked by the huge difference they don't see.

Most of my springy little gray hairs are gone. One or two still remain, although how I missed them, I am not sure. Again, what could be more authentic than a few gray strands?

Nose and eyes full of ammonia. Trust me on this, during the rising phase you don't want any of that water to run over your eyes and/or nose. And if it does, just keep rinsing. Don't attempt to flush it with your hands. They have ammonia on them too.

A giant crick in my neck. Half way through my panicky rinse cycle my neck went into an excruciating Charlie horse. This did not add to the home spa treatment flavor of the process and necessitated my frantic massaging of the area while my head dripped brownish water into the sink.

A great boost of energy from adrenalin. Another alarming moment arose when I got into the shower to rinse out the conditioner that I applied after the coloring phase. As I eased the tangles out of my hair with my fingers, whilst still massaging my neck, large chunks of hair began detaching themselves from my head. Apparently that was the result of shampooing and blow drying my hair once already, earlier that morning. At least that's what I keep telling myself. Stay tuned as I learn where to shop for wigs.

Doggy Kleptomaniacs

2008-10-14T10:12:00.000-07:00

You can't teach an old dog a new trick, right? Wrong. Particularly if it's a bat habit he's learning from a puppy in the throes of adolescence. Recently I made the mistake of reaching into the cat's bowl to grab a hand full of kibble to use as training treats. Apparently at least one dog took note. Luke has begun getting up on his hind legs to investigate the platform on the scratching post where we keep Kacey's food bowl. Strangely, he doesn't seem too interested in stealing her kibble. Instead he knocks her bowl of water onto the floor or steals the small plastic bowls in which we put her daily treats such as cream, or small bits of steak or hamburger. If Luke spots one of these bowls on the scratching post, he checks to see if anyone is looking, stands on his stubby hind legs, and pokes around the platforms with his nose. Unfortunately for him, the sound of his collar clinking against the bowl gives him away. He has learned he gets yelled at or receives a swat on the rump or muzzle if he's caught, so he now has the good sense to past a guilty look on his face as he scuttles away. Also unfortunate is the fact the Bo has now joined in the game. This morning he stole one of Kacey's bowls and squirreled it away somewhere. I'm waiting for it to turn up, chewed to bits. Meanwhile, I think it's time to move the scratching post and food bowls somewhere where I can keep an eye on them.

Dress for Sucess? Nope.

2008-10-13T09:54:00.000-07:00

I like to dress nicely. I really do. I see women that dress up for office jobs every day and I feel envious of their pretty tops, tailored slacks, and sleek looking heels. The problem is, I'm too pragmatic about clothes. Not to the degree that I would leave the house in baggy sweats or Crocs, I just find that unless clothes are comfortable and practical, I just don't wear them.

Take for example pretty bras and underwear. They look lovely when you first put them on, but after they spend a day bunched up in your clothes, the panties want nothing more than to snuggle up deep in your crack, and the bra has left deep rivets in your shoulders and has started itching under your boobs. I like a cute shirt just as much as the next lady, but the ones that aren't just basic wife-beater style tank tops or plain t-shirts are fraught with peril. They ride low in the front or gap open, showing off so much cleavage I feel the need to cover up with a sweatshirt while picking up kids from school. Others slide up at the waist leaving a gaping swath of skin open to the drafts, and exposing my muffin top to the elements. Spaghetti strap camisoles are usually a good solution to these problems, but by the end of the day, the tight stretchy fabric makes me itch. Long-sleeved drapey blouses are pretty, but have you ever tried washing dishes or cooking in them? The sleeves always end up dangling in what you are working with, leaving a smear of grease or some messy sauce on your clothes. So until I have an office job where I can spend my days in front of a computer, and afford to eat lunch out, you'll find me in jeans and t-shirts.

Times Are Tough!!

2008-10-12T14:04:00.001-07:00

Is anyone else tightening their belt, trimming the fat, trying to make the budget a little bit more lean in these financially trying times? I started a few months ago as a result of my hours at work having been cut by about 75% and simultaneously taking a cut in pay. My work as an ecologist is driven by how much new development is going on, and when the housing market crumbled, so did my income. Thankfully Steve still brings in a good salary and we aren't really hurting. Watching your hard-earned savings draining away in the stock market certainly motivates me to make some changes in my spending though.

Things I've done already include getting my hair cut and colored half as often (helllooo dark roots), and making the decision that Weston no longer needs guitar lessons. I'm also grocery shopping with greater care, focusing on making items that can be reheated for lunch the next day, and trying to avoid expensive ingredients. When I was about 6 months pregnant with Garrett, I started having someone come to clean my house every two weeks, and when I went back to work full time, it made sense for her to continue coming. Now that I'm hardly working, I'm going to have to let her go. I feel badly about it, not only because she has always done a great job for me, but also because I feel like I'm causing someone else just a bit more financial hardship.

Of course I'm looking for a job too. I started looking seriously around the beginning of this year, and was pretty picky about the kind of job, and salary I was willing to accept. As unemployment figures become increasingly grim and my hours at my current job keep dropping, I've grown less and less picky. Maybe a nice job as a secretary, or bagging groceries, or waitressing for minimum wage would work. I haven't actually reached that point yet, but it no longer seems as far-fetched scenario as it used to.

Can't We All Just Get Along?

2008-10-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

Did you see Michelle Obama on Larry King Live a couple of nights ago? She is an amazing woman. Here is what she had to say:

"We can disagree without being disagreeable. And that's, you know, is where [Barack Obama is] trying to get to in this campaign, the notion that we can disagree on some fundamental issues in this country, but we have to do it without demonizing one another, without labeling one another, because we're in some tough times now. And what we can see from the fall of this economy is that when we fall, we all fall. And when we rise, we all rise. And whether we're Republicans or Democrats or Independents or black or white or straight or gay, that we're in this together. And that there are times that we will disagree, that we won't share the same policies. But we're going to rise and fall together. And that's the tone that I like."

And did you also see this video of some very hate filled commentary by supporters of John McCain and Sarah Palin? Later in the interview with Larry King, Michelle Obama made the important point that after this election is over, we the voters and the politicians we elect are going to have to find some common ground where the process of restoring this nation's economy and our standing in the world can begin. I agree. The next few years are going to be difficult ones. If this country spends another four to eight years running in place due to partisan politics, that rebuilding can't and won't happen.

The problem is each side is screaming so loudly to be heard, they no longer realize that the words coming out of their mouths do not represent the ideals of freedom and democracy that once made this country great. Remember? We're supposed to be the UNITED States of America. That video shows a nation totally divided. The hate I hear no longer make me angry, it scares me. I am not naive enough to think Republicans have cornered the market on hate. One need look no further than the comments in response to that and other similar videos cropping up all over Youtube to hear hate speech from "our" side. If this ideological divide is what 9/11 wrought upon this country, then I think those terrorists that McCain's supporters fear so much can declare victory.

I don't want to be a part of that victory so I have just resolved from this moment forth, not to fan the flames of hatred. While it's tempting to do so, and perhaps even drum up readership for my blog, I now think it's the wrong thing to do. What I would like to do instead is to invite anybody to stops by this blog to try to come up with, and post as a comment, one positive thing to say about John McCain, Sarah Palin, or anybody else associated with the GOP. Here, I'll go first. John McCain has now spoken out in support of Barack Obama at some of his rallies, calling him "decent" and asking his supporters to respect his opponent. He deserves our respect and admiration for that. There! See? That wasn't so hard. Now you.

Helloooo Out There!!!!!

2008-10-10T09:28:00.000-07:00

In June I decided to get really serious about this blog, and to make an effort to reach out to a broader audience than my husband and a couple of close friends. As part of that effort I joined Blogher, registered my blog with Technorati, and signed up for an account with Sitemeter, which provides all sorts of statistics about who is reading your blog.

All of these steps, along with coming out of the closet as a blogger to friends and family, have caused the traffic to my blog to really increase. This has been incredibly gratifying. I never get tired of visiting Sitemeter to look at my current numbers. The coolest thing of all though is to look at where my readers are coming from. I've been surprised and delighted to find that I have visitors from all over the world. I'd like to take a minute to say a HUGE thank you to those of you that stop by to read regularly and to say as personal a hello as I can to all of you in far flung places. So welcome to my blog Jessup, Maryland. Nice to see you Albany, New York and Phoenix, Arizona. How the hell are you Schaumburg, Evanston, Chicago, and Palatine, Illinois? I like your senator (but you probably already knew that). What's cooking Hightstown, New Jersey? Hello to Raleigh, North Carolina, Tangent, Oregon, Swansea, Massachusetts, San Marcos, Texas, and Central Islip, New York. Howdy Oviedo, Tallahassee, and Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Please consider voting for Obama in 2008. Hi Nashville, Tennessee. I love your accent! And hello to my international readers too! How's the weather in Mexico, Brazil, Philippines, Australia, and Singapore? And I can't forget London and Birmingham, UK. Thank you for stopping by Mas Riudoms, Spain.

More than anything else I would enjoy hearing what all of you have to say to me. Blogging is largely a one-sided conversation, so when readers respond with even the shortest comment, I'm very happy. It begins to feel more like a dialog. Again, thanks again for stopping by.

Depression Chic

2008-10-09T11:01:00.000-07:00

I'm not going to get into the business of celebrity fugging. That market has been cornered by the lovely ladies at Go Fug Yourself, and a mighty good job they are doing! I do have to ask though, what the hell was Suze Orman wearing on CNN last night???

It looks like a trash bag reinforced with purple neoprene. Perhaps in light of our current economic crisis, she is trying to model the 21st century's answer to loosing everything in the Great Depression and having nothing to wear but a barrel.

Reality Check From Wasilla

2008-10-09T10:57:00.000-07:00

I have officially become a HUGE fan of Jon Stewart and The Daily Show, but now that I have seen this video:

my adoration knows no bounds.

Keith Olberman has a thing or two to say about the governor too! Long but informative and worth sitting through.

Step This Way for my Biased Opinion

2008-10-08T09:27:00.000-07:00

Last night the whole family sat down to watch the debate. I think that's a pretty striking statement on how badly I am afflicted with election fever. Granted, Weston had to watch for a school assignment and Garrett had been forbidden from watching cartoons because he forgot his homework assignments at school. But still! This time I actually took some notes while I watched the debate. Bottom line, Obama impressed the heck out of me. He offered specific solutions to the problems we are facing. He is an amazing orator, the likes of which we have not seen since Bill Clinton left office. His body language throughout the debate gave the impression that he was relaxed, unruffled, and in control. I could see him as my president. He's still got my vote. Now for my impressions of McCain. Heh!

McCain's responses to debate questions generally lacked specific details. There are some that had the exact opposite impression though, so this may well be my bias speaking. Here is an example though. McCain spoke of having a commission come up with "recommendations" to fix Medicare which implied that he did not have any ideas of his own at this time. He speaks often of bringing our troops home from Iraq in victory, but fails to tell us what victory will look like. He tells us he looked into Putin's eyes and saw three letters, a K, a G, and a B. What does that mean (and it wasn't funny the FIRST time he said it)? To McCain's credit, he did offer a couple of specifics. One was doubling the tax exemption rate for children, which sounds like a pretty good start. I was less impressed with his "across the board" spending freeze. For those of us who are spending $200 dollars at the beginning of each school year to buy supplies for our children's teachers, a freeze on education spending sounds like a bad idea.

McCain often referenced his record and things he has accomplished in the past. This struck me as a discordant note with Palin's "Say it ain't so Joe. There you go again, pointing backwards." As a nation we are facing a financial crisis unlike any other in our lifetime. I'm guessing voters are more interested to hear what new solutions a candidate has to offer than in what they've accomplished under a totally different set of circumstances in the past. I am not dismissing the importance of experience, and McCain certainly has plenty of that, but if his running mate is going to criticize a backward-looking approach, then McCain's answers needed to focus much more on the new solutions he is proposing.

And now to get to what I think are the more superficial aspects of McCain's performance. I'm going to address these here because, I believe human nature leads us to have emotional responses to a person. Those emotions then bias our impressions of everything that person says and does, and ultimately influence our behavior in the voting booth.

At one point in the debate McCain had, what I will refer to as a yadda-yadda moment. Speaking of Obama's voting record with respect to nuclear power he alluded to his opponents fear about the safety of nuclear power and then brushed off those fears without fully explaining Obama's position. "Senator Obama says it has to be safe or disposable or something like that." This flippant dismissal of concerns about the safety of nuclear power made McCain appear narrow-minded and biased on this issue. Ask the residents of Three Mile Island if they have concerns about the safety of nuclear power.

McCain spent a lot of time blowing sunshine up the collective butts of the American voters. He addressed us as "my friends" so many times that it became disingenuous. He claimed that it was possible to tackle the problems of energy, health care, and education simultaneously "because we're Americans". It's a nice to think that simply by virtue of being citizens of a county we have somehow acquired super powers, and that nothing we set our minds to is beyond our grasp. This sounds a lot like what we tell our children to motivate them. Do well in school, work hard, set your mind to it, and anything is possible! Unfortunately it's not that simple for one individual person, and for an entire nation of people, McCain is just not painting a realistic picture.

And now to the issue of body language. While McCain was answering questions, Obama sat in a relaxed posture, listening attentively to his opponent's words. At one point while Obama was answering a question, I could see someone pacing up and down the stage behind him. Because of the camera angle, I could not immediately identify the individual, and assumed it to be a camera man. A new camera angle revealed the pacer to be McCain. This struck me as impolite and distracting and made McCain appear nervous and agitated. And speaking of impolite, referring to Obama as "that one" really stuck in my craw. If McCain wished to shake off the impression that he is a grumpy old man, his behavior during the debate did nothing to help. He attempted to connect with his audience thanking a naval retiree for his service and patting his shoulder. It was a nice gesture, and he meant well, but logging on to Twitter at that moment, the overwhelming response of viewers seemed to be "creepy" or "awkward".

General consensus in the media seems to be that once again, there was no clear winner of this debate, and I'm willing to go along with that. I have a hard time believing though, that the majority of undecided voters were won over my McCain's stump stump, grumble grumble, get off my lawn you damn kids persona.

Overhead at the Post Office

2008-10-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

Post Office Worker: I'm sorry ma'am. You'll need to wrap that box because it was previously used to ship alcohol. It is against postal service policy to ship alcohol boxes uncovered.

Lady With Smoker's Hack and Voice: Oh no. It's for my two-year-old granddaughter. All it actually has inside is plastic dinosaurs. You know boxes are hard to find. I had a hard time finding this one.

At this point I picture this lady, cigarette dangling from her lip, rummaging through the discarded boxes behind her local grocery store and finally settling on one with the Jack Daniels logo prominently displayed. Perfect! Next I imagine the perplexed look on her daughter-in-law's face as little Lindsey rips open the brown paper covering on the mysterious box, to see that it appears to hold a shipment of hard liquor. I also can't help pondering on how many plastic dinosaurs one could actually fit in a box big enough to ship bottles of alcohol. If they're small dinos, that little girl is in for quite a treat! If they're anything like those hard plastic Pokemon figures that Garrett has, her mother will wish that box had actually held its original contents after she steps on them in the dark a few times.

Droologami

2008-10-05T12:19:00.001-07:00

Luke and Bo, like most dogs, are beggars. When we sit down to eat, both of the dogs show up to sit expectantly and not always patiently waiting for an accidental crumb or generous handout to come their way.

Bo's style of begging is typically a bit more aggressive than Luke's. He places his nose on the thigh of the eater, occasionally adjusting its position to ensure that its presence has not been overlooked. This method has become more difficult to employ since we purchase counter height chairs, so he has added assertive panting, which steams up the thigh, to his repertoire.

Luke, on the other hand sits quietly staring at the glutton, while a slimy stalactite of drool forms on his jowls. This string of drool can sometimes grow to a remarkable length, which is alarming because when Luke turns his head suddenly the slobber can be ripped from its moorings and be deposited on the foot or leg of the meal-eater. Today, as Steve and I enjoyed some tortilla chips and fresh salsa, a new and frightful drool configuration emerged; The Bubble. Observe:

It eventually popped and conformed to the more traditional drool configuration, but as always, when the strange or horrifying rears its ugly head, I am ready with my trusty iPhone camera.

Poison Oak 2008

2008-10-05T08:17:00.000-07:00

I have poison oak, AGAIN. This seems to happen to me at least once a year, and the majority of the time I have no clue how I got it. I first noticed the little itchy bumps last week when I got into the shower. There's a telltale itchiness that confirms the diagnosis the moment the hot water hits my skin. I have a couple of theories about how I got it this time. I was out doing some field work in east San Jose in an area that had a little bit of poison oak. Perhaps I encountered it there. We also visited Steve's parents where the hill behind the house has poison oak, but I never walked up there. Could one of the kids have gotten a little on their clothes that transferred to me? The blisters always show up in two places, my wrists and my waist line. This time I have one small blister on the left side of my waist and, as of this writing two more on my left wrist. I'm pretty sure this won't be anything like the outbreak of poison oak I had last year that involved my entire right forearm, massive doses of Prednisone, and months of scarred purple skin that had me wearing long sleeves long after the weather had warmed up. Nevertheless, if I'm going to have itchy blisters showing up in strange places, I'd like to at least have a good story to tell about it.

"Ribs"...... Yeah, right!

2008-10-04T12:39:00.001-07:00

Once again, the grocery store comes through with blog material! The last two times I've gone to Safeway I have tried to get a photograph of the "spare ribs" in the deli section, but could not do so without revealing that I am bizarre. On the first occasion I couldn't whip out my iPhone and select the camera option before the lady behind the counter was done getting my turkey. The second time I have my phone all ready, but there were too many shoppers clustered around that section of the deli counter (probably snickering at the appearance of the ribs) for me to elbow in and covertly snap a photo. I didn't want to be totally obvious about it, so today I pretended to be taking a squiz at the unsliced salami logs, whilst "checking my email" on my phone, and was able to take this picture.

I'm not sure the does proper justice to how gross these "ribs" really look in person. The corners are unnaturally square, and they look like they have been molded from brown clay. You can dress these things up with cute and colorful little chili peppers, but you still can't take them out for a night on the town. No thanks. I think I'll just keep my $4.99 plus tax.

Did You Berate or Relate to the Debate?

2008-10-03T08:19:00.000-07:00

Doggone it folks, I've been itchin' to talk about the debate since it wrapped up last night! In the face of such low expectations, it's not surprising that Sarah Palin did better than expected. I don't think either candidate did extremely well or very badly, but here are my initial impressions of both.

Sarah Palin is "g" averse to a fault. She's talkin' to folks, workin' with McCain, listenin' to ideas. If this accent was consistent, it would be more believable, but at the moments when she has little of substance to say, she falls back into this speaking style, apparently to connect to those folks at home who have no clue that the need for foreign policy extends beyond the war in Eye-raq. Her folksy speaking style does nothing for me, but sadly there are probably many Americans that it really resonates with.

I was also struck by her scripted answers, particularly when questioned about foreign policy. She had a two-minute sound bite to deliver and gave the impression that beyond what was on those cue cards she had nothing else to add. When asked a question she was not prepared to answer, the cue cards were her life line. She simply looked down and delivered another one of her party's talking points with her point blank gaze drilling into the camera.

By repeatedly using the phrase "up there is Alaska" Palin gives the impression that her home state is a foreign country. To those of us who feel that being the governor of this remote state with its sparse population leaves her woefully underqualified to step into John McCain' shoes, this does little to alley our concerns. She tries, but fails to portray Wasilla as a town just like yours and mine. I'm here to tell you Sarah, gee whiz, Wasilla Alaska ain't no Silicon Valley.

She winked. Not once but twice. To convince me that she has moved beyond her beauty queen past and is ready to interact with foreign heads of state, she needs to leave that schtick behind. She is an attractive woman whose manner of dress, makeup, and behavior will always be scrutinized more closely than that of her male counterparts (although hopefully McCain doesn't wear makeup.... at least publicly). In order to be taken seriously as a politician she's going to have to behave like a serious political figure. Have you ever seen Condaleezza Rice, Hilary Clinton, or Ruth Bader Ginsburg resort to winking? With that said, her experience as a television anchor served her well. Her eye contact with the camera certainly gave the impression that she cared about her audience.

I know her mannerisms help "Joe Sixpack" and his wife "Wendy Wal-mart" relate to her, want to have a beer with her, and feel like she's just one of us. But this country is going through one of the worst economic crises in its history. We are involved in two wars, and our nation's approval rating around the world is heading south almost as quickly as George W. Bush's. I don't want "one of us" as our Commander in Chief or even as our VP. What I want is someone who doesn't require cue cards to talk about foreign policy.

Palin took Joe Biden to task on several occasions for looking backwards and dwelling on the mistakes of the Bush administration. She and McCain paint themselves as mavericks who will shake things up with their fresh focus and new ideas. Perhaps it is time to recall the words of George Santayana who said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."

In conclusion, Sarah Palin didn't do or say anything that was truly horrible or frightening during the debate as many of us who support the Obama/Biden ticket hoped she would in our secret heart-of-hearts. That in itself was scary though because it means that her handlers have coached her well enough that her bald ignorance and wrong-headed policies have just gone into hiding until after the election.

Now for Joe Biden. He came across as warm and friendly towards Sarah Palin which was key. If he had appeared hostile, he would have been criticized in the same manner in which McCain was, following the first presidential debates, for sounding "angry". When Biden spoke about foreign policy he sounded knowledgeable. One got the impression that he had a great deal more to say on the subject but was constrained by his two-minute response time limit. He made some small gaffs during the debate, including almost referring to his running mate as McCain, and occasionally resorting to wagging his finger at the camera. I noticed that he and Palin had both been coached in the fine art of the Bill Clinton bent finger wag,but that Biden slipped up and forgot to reel in that digit in a couple of times. I am unabashedly biased, and am struggling for objective criticisms of Biden's performance, so I'm just going to give up now. One positive thing I will say about Sarah Palin is that she has brought politics back into fashion. She's got people talking and feeling they need to get involved and be informed. If she can do that for this country, then she's not all bad.

Spray Paint! That'll Fix It! Yeah!

2008-10-02T09:59:00.000-07:00

Every few months, Weston comes to us and asks for new shoes. Not because his feet are growing so fast (which they are, but not THAT fast) but because the last pair of shoes we have bought him are destroyed. Skateboarding is hard on shoes. At the beginning of summer we bought him some expensive Nikes (I was going to call them Nike shoes but it came of sounding unbelievably stuffy) that are designed to withstand the rigors of multiple attempts at landing kick flips, backside nollies, and pop shove-its. He wore them on and off throughout the summer but once school started, he couldn't wear them because they have blue (Gang Color!!!) on them. Plus, he couldn't land any of his tricks in them and claims to have outgrown them. Blame it on the equipment.

With school about to start, Steve's parents kindly offered to take the boys out shopping for new shoes, clothes, and backpacks. After trying on about 6 different styles, Weston finally found a pair that met his stringent style requirements and that the store still had in his enormous size 10s. A scant five weeks in to the school year, and these shoes are already in sorry shape. The right front side of the right shoe has been worn down to the fabric by the grip tape on Weston's skateboard. That's OK though. I'm glad he's getting the exercise, not playing video games, and working on getting better at something that he feels passionate about. What bugs me though is that The Punk took his shoes yesterday (why they were off his feet I have yet to determine) and spray painted them purple and gold. I've not seen the shoes, and never heard about the spray painting until 8:38 this morning when a shoeless Weston was scuttling out the door to leave for school, quickly explaining that he had fixed the whole thing by spray painting the shoes gray at his friend's house across the street. He was headed there this morning because his friend's mother drives him to school each day.

I am willing to bet a goodly sum of money that Weston will be less than satisfied with the spray paint solution. Dollars to donuts, he comes to me within the next 24 hours announcing that he needs new shoes, pronto. When he does, I will offer him four choices: 1) Get The Punk or his parents to pay for your new shoes (if you chose this kid as your friend, it will come at certain costs to you). 2) Sure I will buy you new shoes..... from Target. 3) Keep wearing the spray painted ones. 4) Go out and do some babysitting, yard cleaning, any kind of work to earn the money to buy your own new shoes. Do you suppose that will fix him?

Parenting - Just Hard, Or Is It Hell?

2008-10-01T11:51:00.000-07:00

I just overheard one side of the following cell phone conversation while waiting in line at Panda Express for my cheap Chinese food fix. The caller was a girl of about 20 years of age who had probably been dumped by "Kevin". Perhaps she was even dumped in favor of the new mother. In any case, by the end of the conversation, I was pretty sure Kevin was better off without this nasty piece of work.

Vindictive Girl on Phone (VGOP) – So, Kevin just had his baby.

Me (Talking to the voices in my head) – Wha? How does a guy have a baby?

VGOP – (With delight) Yeah she was in labor for like 12 hours. I like, smiled all through practice on Saturday. Now his life is finally going to go to hell. I just wanted to call and tell you because I was so happy. You know, I’m spreading the word.

At this point the person on the other end of the call must have said something that made her feel like the vindictive bitch she sounded like, because her end of the conversation suddenly turned defensive.

VGOP – Well, Charlotte deserves it. She was dumb and she got with Kevin……(here I like to imagine that the caller called her something that rhymes with snitch, and told her to shut up). OK. OK. Well, bye.

At that point I felt the need to shower an excessive amount of public affection on Garrett who had also heard this exchange. I wanted both him and the twit on the phone to understand that becoming a parent does not equate with taking up residence in H-E-double hockey sticks. What a nasty thing to say front of a little kid. I realize that when teenagers become parents (and I'm assuming the parents in question were teenagers), its not an ideal situation and the going is likely to be extremely rough for everyone involved. I am not in favor of kids having kids. Babies born into this kind of situation are often better off when given up for adoption. Publicly gloating that the birth of a child is cursing the teen parents to an existence in hell, is just really callous.

Missing Cat Returns Not Unscathed

2008-09-30T12:49:00.000-07:00

We are a pet-loving household. I warned Steve, long before we were married that part of the deal should he decide to spend the rest of his life with me, would be a menagerie of pets. Now that I'm in charge of cleaning up after all of the animals we currently possess, I have scaled my needs back to include just two dogs and a cat. Last night, I worried that we might be down to just two dogs.

Kacey the cat's typical routine, for summer at least (she spends all winter impersonating a sofa cushion), is to spend her nights out roaming the neighborhood, to come home briefly to eat breakfast, spend the day asleep, eat dinner, and then head out again. She was in yesterday morning, went out, and then she disappeared. As most cat owners know, when kitty doesn't show up for a regular meal, one of two things has happened: a) something bad or; b) your neighbor is trying to steal your cat away by giving it better treats.

I realized something was up when I started preparing soup for dinner, including a savory broth, and cut up chunks of chicken. Typically the sound of the cutting board being placed on the counter top and the knife being unsheathed from the block is the animals' equivalent to sounding a dinner bell. They come running from all corners of the house. Once I got all the ingredients in the pot, I went outside to see if Kacey was hanging out with the kids while they skated. No cat. Dinner came and went, the dogs got fed, the kids were put to bed, and still she had not appeared. Finally around 10:30 I went to bed, certain that I would spend the next day scouring the neighborhood for her lifeless body.

At 3:30 I got up to see if Steve had let her in after I had gone to bed. Still no Kacey. I lay awake for a couple of hours, mentally composing a missing cat flier and figuring out where I would place them. Telephone poles, light posts, or trees? Which would get more exposure? Eventually I drifted off into a fitful sleep, full of dreams of the dogs finding Kacey dead on the lawn, or trying to introduce a new kitten to the family. Dramatic, aren't I? At first light, I headed out to the sliding glass door, expecting to see her sitting there in the spot she assumes when she has spent the night out. Still no cat. I opened the door and called to her, and almost immediately heard her meow from up on the roof. Nearly 24 hours after we had last seen her, she was back. Unscathed? Of course not.

Poor Kacey has sustained some sort of mysterious injury to her right front paw. I have not yet assessed the extent of the damage but she has an exaggerated limp and the foot looks swollen. She is, at the moment, sleeping on her favorite fleecy robe on my bed. I'm relieved that she has returned, but am dreading the veterinary bill that may accompany this injury.

Punk vs. Parent

2008-09-26T16:59:00.000-07:00

Doesn't being a parent suck sometimes? My son is outside skating by himself right now. Why? Because I'm being the tough parent and he's being the kid that listens to his parents. Here is how this situation came about.

Tuesday night he was outside skating with a group of friends. One of these kids is a punk whose parents have pushed away from the meal of parenting like they had a twelve-course helping and can't jam down another bite. At 14 he is not in school. Word on the street says he'll be sent to a boarding school sometime "before Halloween". Meanwhile he spends his waking hours totally unsupervised. While they were skating, the punk refused to move out of the street to make way for a car. When the driver opened her window and made a comment, f-bombs began to drop like rain. I should add here that Weston had JUST come in the house as this went down, so avoided the whole situation by literally seconds. Steve and I were in the kitchen getting dinner on the table and saw all of the action. When the swear words began to fly, the driver made a u-turn and gave chase to the kids, who had taken off running. At that point Steve ran out to intervene*.

Naturally, being caring parents, we had to explain to Weston that he could no longer hang out with the punk. We told him we were worried he would end up getting stabbed or shot by some wacko who didn't appreciate being mouthed off to (excuse my dangling preposition). He has been forbidden to skate anywhere but outside our house if this boy is around. The problem is this kid pretty much stalks Weston and his best friend and fellow skating buddy across the street. Weston's friend cannot always resist the allure of punkdome and sometimes, against his parents' wishes, takes off to skate with the punk, leaving my parent-abiding son alone, feeling like a sap for listening to his mom and making me look like an asshole for trying to be a responsible parent.

*I think I shall buy Steve a white horse**, because he does some serious rescuing when the need arises.

** Actually, I think he might prefer something more along the lines of a BMW. Note to self: Research whether heroing can be accomplished on motorcycle as well as horseback.

Where's Moose Killer?

2008-09-25T14:25:00.000-07:00

I'm going to beat a dead horse here and talk a little bit more about the presidential race. Why, if we're in the middle of a great economic upheaval, does John McCain have to suspend his campaign? What good does running back to Washington do? How is John McCain going to save us all? And in the unlikely event that he can save us all, what is Moose Killer doing right now? Where has she vanished to, and shouldn't she as his running mate still be on the campaign trail? Isn't this her big opportunity to show us all how she can handle herself in a crisis? What, doesn't McCain trust his own running mate to carry on with the show? My personal feeling is that the Republicans are running a campaign consisting entirely of PR, smoke and mirrors, and the fewer debates they have to participate in the better off they know they'll be. C'mon McCain, you're supposed to be a national hero. Come back out and play fair.

Addendum as of September 26th:

Oh, here she is (Katie Couric sounds like she is interviewing a terrified debutant here, not a candidate for VP of the most powerful nation in the world). And here. And oh, sorry, just had to throw this one in. Holy cow. Could we just keep the McCain campaign suspended for a while because if Obama doesn't get a boost in the polls after this interview, I have got some serious questions to ask about the collective intelligence of the American people.

Maimed Middle Finger Thanks to Pit Bull Attack

2008-09-23T09:21:00.000-07:00

Back in April of this year a very sad story came to light involving yet another pit bull attack. On April 11, 2008, Steve Belsley was out walking his shiba inu, Bella when they were attacked by a pit bull that was loose in their San Jose neighborhood. Steve suffered multiple wounds to his hands while trying to defend his dog, but ultimately found himself unable to keep both Bella and himself from being injured. Bella ran away to escape the pit bull and they have not seen her since.

Steve and his wife Terri initiated a massive effort to find Bella and between April and July one could not drive through our area of San Jose without seeing multiple copies of their flier attached to trees and light poles. They even went as far as to set up trail cameras and were able to catch photos of what appeared to be their dog along Coyote Creek. Steve and Terri are still looking for Bella, who continues to be spotted from time to time.

Today, an article came out in our local newspaper, The Mercury News, reporting that the pit bull's owner is facing charges that may ultimately result in him spending up to three years in jail. Steve Belsley is still struggling with his injuries. The paper attributes the following quote to Terri Belsley. "[Steve's] doctor said Monday that he may not be able to fully extend his left middle finger again." Friends, if you can't extend your middle finger to flip off the asshole whose dog caused your hands to be maimed, your pet to run away, and your future as an engineer to be jeopardized, I say three years in jail is way too lenient.

Marinating in Wine in Paso Robles

2008-09-22T09:57:00.000-07:00

In the face of destruction in the stock market, a teen son boiling over, and all of the stress that inevitably follows back-to-school time, I took off for the weekend with Joanna to do a little (OK maybe a lot of) wine tasting in Paso Robles. Poor Steve got left behind to tend to the kids, but before we left was able to score us a free place to stay in Cayucos. In case you aren't familiar with San Luis Obispo County (Pismo Beach and ALL the clams you can eat!) Cayucos is a little beach town just off Highway 101 that you could glance east to take in the view of the hillsides and miss all together. The breathtaking view of Morro Bay from 101 makes is pretty unlikely that you would look anywhere but west (or southwest for those of you analyzing my post with compass and map in hand (Julia!)).

On the way in on Saturday we stopped first in Paso Robles to pick up six bottles of wine from a tiny winery in an industrial complex. Joanna belongs to the wine club at Hug Cellars and rather than pay for shipping, she had opted for this road trip as a good excuse to get out of town and do a little tasting. Armed with all the El Pape and Pinot Noir we could carry, we headed off to Tablas Creek where the pours were generous, the list was long, and the wine was incredible. Since it was early in the weekend we managed to walk a straight line back to Joanna's little Subaru with a couple of bottles of Cotes de Tables. Our next and final stop was Dover Canyon where many of the lables feature the winery dog. Pours were also generous and the list was equally long, so after tasting here we were a bit unsteady on our pins as we headed to the car with a couple bottles of Cujo Zinfandel and some old vine zinfandel.

At this point it was clear that our tasting day was over and we headed, carefully, down the hill to Cayucos where we spent the rest of the afternoon warbling drunkenly along with SingStar 80's for the PlayStation. We made it through almost the entire song list by the time we needed to get our faces on and head to dinner. A bit more sober, we headed to Hoppe's for some more fine wine and some grub. The food was great, and the locals were drunk and friendly to a fault. Nothing like hearing about someone's colonoscopy to work up an appetite for something chocolaty for dessert!

Sunday, after downing a couple of Alka-Seltzers and a protein-packed breakfast to line the stomach, we were back in fighting form. On the way back to San Jose we stopped at Hunt Wine Cellars where the prices were high, the bottle jockey was enthusiastic, but we were very underwhelmed. After divesting ourselves of our $10 tasting fee we left empty handed for Booker Vineyard. The wines were expensive here as well, but of a much higher quality, so we ended up purchasing a bottle of their cheapest offering, a "pink" wine consisting of a Syrah, Grenache blend. With tired palates our final stop was Terry Hoage Vineyards, owned by a former football player turned wine maker. Like our earlier stops the wines at Terry Hoage (all named with football themes such as Hangtime and 5 Blocks) were very pricey, but good so my final purchase of the day was a "Skins" Grenache.

Back in San Jose now and wringing my liver out for a few days. If we had a bunch of extra cash on hand or won the lottery, I think Steve and I would spend next weekend looking at real estate in coastal SLO County. The only question would be beach, or inland where we could plant some vines, buy some goats, and start making wine and fine cheese. Cheers!

The Shrug

2008-09-19T14:16:00.000-07:00

I have decided to learn sign language. Why? Because I need to be able to interpret all of the subtle meanings contained in one gesture. The shrug. From time to time Weston morphs into a sullen teen. Typically he wakes up in a pretty loquacious mood and is able to communicate with us in monosyllabic grunts. Spending a day at school seems to rob him of all ability to speak however, and upon being asked any question his response is limited to a shrug of his shoulders. When he does decide to speak what does come out of his mouth would probably have been better off staying put. Apparently everyone he goes to school with, excepting perhaps his two best friends, is an idiot. School administrators, staff and teachers are equally gifted with the added benefit of not giving a crap about anything, at all, ever. Except maybe for the hair-phobic gym teacher who vomited in front of her students upon seeing a glob or hair in a cup next to the pool.

I think I understand though. I still remember just how much junior high/middle school sucked. It was a huge popularity game that could be won pretty much only by stomping on someone else's soul, beating up someone younger and smaller, or getting in trouble for something that could be considered cool. As a girl you could choose your identity from a small set of equally unappealing personae. There was the the űber-bitchy girl whose small circle of BFFs was determined by their loyalty when she felt the need to pick on someone less fortunate, usually cursed with braces and a poor fashion sense. Or you could be one of the stoners, the kids who had given up on academics in favor of smoking pot and using that cool droning voice made popular in Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Or you could be the slutty girl who was rumored to have let a boy grope around under her shirt. Oh and don't forget the nerdy smart girl. You know, the one getting picked on by űber-bitch and her posse. I'm sure that choices were and still are just as appealing for boys, and that Weston is currently wrestling with the same angst, trying to figure out how to walk that fine line between tough and compliant.

Fortunately we are only a year away from high school during which some better sense seems to begin to prevail. Maybe then my son will have more to offer up than a shrug when I ask how his day was.

I Can't Stay Quiet About Palin Any Longer

2008-09-17T16:29:00.000-07:00

I have never intended this blog to be a forum for political discussion, but I think it’s time for me to break away from my typical topics. The blind support I have seen forthe McCain/Palin ticket which seems to stem mostly from the fact that the Vice Presidential candidate is in possession of a pair of ovaries has driven me to comment. I, like most women would be thrilled to have a female hold the highest elected office in our country. But can’t people see that by supporting the wrong woman, just because she is a woman, could set our cause back years, even decades? I don’t dislike Sarah Palin as a candidate because she is a Republican. In fact, I have always felt that if Barack Obama was not elected President I could actually be pretty comfortable with McCain. That is until he chose Palin as his running mate. I could support a woman if she were more like Condoleezza Rice and less like the lovechild of Martha Stewart and the Terminator. Following are several reasons why Sarah Palin scares me. Please note that much of the following is quoted directly from On The Issues. On The Issues is a website which provides a detailed history of each candidate's voting record as well as their public stances on issues. It can be accessed at http://www.issues2000.org/default.htm

Sarah Palin On Abortion:

During the Alaska Governors debate in 2006 candidates were asked what they would do if their own daughters were raped and became pregnant.

Palin said she would support abortion only if the mother's life was in danger. When it came to her daughter, she said, "I would choose life."

Sarah Palin On Equal Rights for Same Sex Couples:

Ms. Palin said she supported Alaska's decision to amend its Constitution to ban same-sex marriage. But she used her first veto as governor to block a bill that would have prohibited the state from granting health benefits to same-sex partners of public employees. Ms. Palin said she vetoed the bill because it was unconstitutional, but raised the possibility of amending the state Constitution so the ban could pass muster.

Elected officials can't defy the court when it comes to how rights are applied, she said, but she would support a ballot question that would deny benefits to homosexual couples. "I believe that honoring the family structure is that important," Palin said. She said she doesn't know if people choose to be gay.

On Education:

Earlier this year, she told the Anchorage Daily News that schools should not fear teaching creationism alongside evolution. "Teach both. You know, don't be afraid of information.... Healthy debate is so important and it's so valuable in our schools. I am a proponent of teaching both. And you know, I say this too as a daughter of a science teacher."

On The Environment:

Governor Sarah Palin announced today the State of Alaska has filed a lawsuit in U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia seeking to overturn Interior Secretary Dirk Kempthorne's decision to list the polar bear as threatened under the Endangered Species Act.

This action follows written notice given more than 60 days ago, asking that the regulation listing the polar bear as threatened be withdrawn. "We believe that the Service's decision to list the polar bear was not based on the best scientific and commercial data available," Governor Palin said.

The Service's analysis failed to adequately consider the polar bears' survival through prior warming periods, and its findings that the polar bear is threatened by sea-ice habitat loss are not warranted. The Service also failed to adequately consider the existing regulatory mechanisms which have resulted in a sustainable worldwide polar bear population that has more than doubled in number over the last 40 years to 20,000-25,000 bears.

Palin On Stem Cell Research:

Palin told ABC’s Charles Gibson that “we should not create human life, create an embryo and then destroy it for research, if there are other options out there.”

But now the McCain/Palin campaign now has a radio spot that enthusiastically supports stem cell research.

To see a full accounting of Sarah Palin’s voting record please take the time to visit http://www.issues2000.org/Sarah_Palin.htm and decide for yourself. Then vote. Conversely, if you aren't going to take the time to get educated on where this woman stands stay home on November 4th. Many of these issues pertain directly to you, as a woman, a mother, a daughter, and a citizen of this country. Please don't just vote your emotions, take time to figure out if, woman or not, she is qualified to represent all of us, and to lead this country in the event that McCain cannot. To paraphrase the candidates' favorite quote, just because it wears lipstick doesn't mean it isn't a pig.

Follow Up to Earth, Flat, Hook, Sharp

2008-09-17T10:24:00.001-07:00

In an earlier post I posed the following question: Earth, flat, hook, sharp. Which does not belong and why? As promised I am posting a follow up which contains my own answer to the riddle which I now believe to be wrong.

My theory was that Earth didn't belong because flat, hook, and sharp are all words that could be used to described the appearance or shape of an object. Take a look at the comments that follow the original post to find what I believe to be the correct answer as provided by my sister Hilary.

Be Careful What You Don't Wish For

2008-09-16T11:44:00.000-07:00

So all that crap I posted a couple of weeks ago about girls, and Weston, and not interested and blah, blah, blah? Total horse shit. I just found out yesterday that my son officially has a girlfriend and holy mother of pearl am I not happy about it. It’s not the fact that he HAS a girlfriend that has my panties all in a bundle, what is upsetting me is…. wait for it…. the girl he chose. Oh God people, listen to me. I sound like one of those overbearing, she’s not good enough for my little darling mothers. OK, deep breaths.

Girlfriend lives around the corner from us, and we’ve known her and her family since she was two. We are casually friendly with the parents, stopping to chat if we are walking the dogs. Weston is friends with the older brother as well, and from what we’ve seen, neither one of the kids should be given the freedom that the parents allow. I won’t laundry list their faults here, but suffice it to say, impressionable little Garrett has learned some pretty colorful language and undesirable behaviors from both of these older kids. On more that one occasion Garrett has said or done something that has left me open-jawed in shock (like referring to the police as “pigs”), and when I asked where he learned it, he has cited one or the other of the siblings as his source.

Last night at dinner I got my revenge though. Garrett doesn’t know about his older brother having a girlfriend. I figured I keep mum about that to save Weston a whole ration of teasing. From our dinner discussion Garrett caught enough information to realize that I had used Girlfriend’s name and the word “like” in the same sentence. “Mom,” Garrett said, “I don’t think Weston would ever actually “like” Girlfriend because she swears worse than her brother.” “I’m sure you’re right, Garrett. Weston has impeccable taste in girls and would never choose to have a girlfriend with a potty mouth.” I answered. It was awesome watching Weston squirm.

The Pampered Pooch

2008-09-15T10:39:00.000-07:00

I have said before that some of the best observations on the human condition can be made at the grocery store. This weekend's grocery shopping trip was no exception. I shop at Safeway, which although it has soul-crushingly poor customer service (more on that later), I continue to patronize because it is conveniently located, and carries most of the things that I need at an acceptable price.

On my shopping list this week were dog food, rawhide bones, and what we refer to as "crate-up treats." One need only rattle the Snausages bag and the dogs both dive for their crates in anticipation of clamping their jaws around the sausage treats. As I lingered in the Pet Needs aisle of Safeway, my eye was caught by a new refrigerated display featuring gourmet meats for the dog that just can't subsist on plain dry kibble. While not something that I personally intend to do, I congratulate those that will take the time and money to prepare so-called raw foods for their dog in order to maximize their nutrition. If you think about it, wild canids don't subsist on a diet of little dry nuggets of God-knows-what. They eat hunks of raw meat that they tear off of the bones of freshly killed mammals and birds. If you recreate that at home, more power to you.

What I don't understand is this:

In natural spearmint and lemongrass flavors! That's where, as a dog-owner you loose me. What dog, even those ultra-pampered rat-sized purse dogs, needs anything other than a clean bowl of city tap water to satisfy its thirst? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wild dogs aren't stopping at Starbucks to purchase and sip an expensive filtered water after their meal of caribou. Even the most spoiled pooch is happy to lap muddy water out of a curbside puddle or even your open toilet if it gets a dry mouth.

And while I'm on the subject of pet diets, does it strike you as a little odd that PETA wants people want to feed their dogs and cats vegetarian food? If you want to practice a vegan lifestyle, why not choose a naturally herbivorous animal like a canary or a hamster as a companion, rather that trying to impose your doctrine on your carnivorous pet. If you believe in avoiding cruelty to animals, maybe you should look into what malnutrition does to an animal.

And finally, on the subject of customer service. While I was at the checkout stand, the lackadaisical checkout clerk ran my Tide and my free range chicken broth over the scanner and found that they did not have prices encoded in the system. Being the enthusiastic employee he was, he turned to me and in an irritated tone of voice asked, "Do you know how much these cost?" I answered that I did not, thinking to myself that as an employee of this grocery store, isn't it YOUR job to know how much the items cost? By the time he has scanned the rest of my items, the bagger had placed all of my items in my cart. The checkout clerk turned to me again, looking more irritated, and asked, "Where did that stuff come from? I tried to scan the organic juice and the other stuff. Do you know where you got it?" Flustered, I scanned my mind for exactly which organic juice I had purchased. After feverishly rummaging through the bags in my cart, we were able to locate the Tide and broth (which he had mistaken for juice) and I directed the bagger to where, in the store at which both of these people are paid to work, I had found the items. A full five minutes later, the line of impatient people behind me getting longer all the while, the bagger strolled back with my items and their prices. This is only one of a long string of incidents at Safeway that have demonstrated that customer service is a very low priority at this store. And having the checkout clerks struggle each week to pronounce my name (Mrs..... Darken??? ThankyouforshoppingatSafewayhaveaniceday.) does nothing to change my mind.

How Many of Your Brand of Muffins Equal One Colon Blow?

2008-09-12T10:10:00.000-07:00

OK I know I'm going a little overboard with the embedded video thing, but now that I figured out how to do it, it's just so much fun! With the exception of the last one, of course, which once embedded, somehow hijacked the entire contents of my post from the editing window so that I could not go back in and put in a little NSFW warning. Sorry 'bout that! I tried!

I dredged this video up this morning to show to Garrett after he casually strolled into the kitchen this morning and asked Steve to put a colon blow muffin in the toaster for him. As with all things outrageous that come out of my children's mouths (ie. Garrett singing Do Your Balls Hang Low in the shower yesterday morning) this is my fault, and up 'til this morning, Garrett had no idea what colon blow referred to. He just thought that was what the English muffins with all the extra fiber in them were called.

Colon Blow Classic SNL commercial.

Warning, may cause abdominal distention!

Earth, Flat, Hook, Sharp

2008-09-11T16:04:00.000-07:00

Meredith's anthropology professor posed the following question:

Of the following choices, which does not belong: Earth, Flat, Hook, Sharp. Why?

I have no idea what the correct answer is or even if there is one. I will explain my own theory in a follow-up post. What's your answer?

Edited to Add: Formulate your own theory first before peeking at the comments!

Odd Things That End Up in Ears, Part II

2008-09-10T10:28:00.000-07:00

Odd Things That End Up in Ears, Part II
In a classic case of you always find out more than you want when you Google for information, I found the following video on Oxygen while trying to figure out how to get rid of that troublesome waxy buildup that can accumulate in your ears.

The poor caller is clearly on the verge of breaking down in tears as this call progresses. You can tell she has spent at least 24 hours feeling a sense of horror similar to one you might experience upon getting caught snooping in a friend's medicine cabinet whist searching for something to rid yourself of her boyfriend's brand of condom which has mysteriously become embedded in your nose. And the way she upspeaks reveals she is probably of an age that prevents her from asking her mother for advice. "My boyfriend's really....... adventurous?"

The T.S. Elliot Equation

2008-09-09T13:54:00.000-07:00

Without mentioning any names, someone I know is about to acquire a very large number of cats. This is a case of sever overuse of LOL in emails. Watch and learn:

Don't let this happen to you!

Who Most Deserves a Helping Hand?

2008-09-09T11:00:00.000-07:00

What is the proper etiquette when donating to another person's cause, be it multiple sclerosis, diabetes, or breast cancer? If you are like me, you have several organizations that you donate to each year, be they environmental, medical, or even your local humane society. You may also get involved in your own fund raising efforts like Steve and the boys and I did this summer. You will probably be approached by at least one friend, acquaintance or relative who is trying to launch a similar fund raising effort. This can add up to a lot of money by the end of the year, tax write-off or not.

How do you decide which, if any of those fund raising efforts you will support? Do you support any and all requests for help for help raising money, or just donate to the causes that have personal meaning for you? I feel really strongly about finding a cure for cancer, so should I always support requests to help fight cancer? What about requests from people who are fundraising for a cancer cure, but that chose not to donate when Steve or I asked for help with the Livestrong event? Tit for tat seems pretty shallow when it's a worthy cause, but if you choose not to donate to others, what can you reasonably expect in return? What say you?

Michael!

2008-09-07T20:58:00.000-07:00

My friend Amy wears a perfume that all of her friends love. It's called Michael and if you've spent much time around Amy, you will associate that perfume with her. She says she wears it because it covers the smell of the kitchen in which she spends all day working as a pastry chef, but whatever the reason, she just smells SO good.

This weekend, Steve and I went into Nordstrom with a $125 store credit burning a hole in our pocket. Steve (who is pretty much every woman's ideal mate) insisted that I find something to spend the store credit on. As we walked into the store, I saw a really nice men's shirt with a Michael Kors tag in the collar. "I know who Michael Kors is!" I said. "He makes the perfume that Amy wears that smells SOOO good!" Intrigued, Steve steered me to the perfume department so he could get a whiff of this elixir. The sales lady sprayed a little on the crease of my elbow and made up a small sample, encouraging me to wear it for a few hours to see how it reacted with my body chemistry. She also gave me a sample of a similar scent by Marc Jacobs. We left Nordstrom empty handed, and moved on to shop at a couple of other stores.

As we browsed the racks of The Gap, I remarked to Steve that I felt strange wearing Amy's signature scent. "I smell great and I love it, but I keep expecting to turn around and see Amy standing next to me!" Steve assured me that I smelled wonderful, and that surely Amy hadn't spent hours laboring over this particular perfume and that if I bought it and wore it, it couldn't be THAT big of a deal. "You don't understand." I protested., "If I bought this, everyone would say I was wearing Amy's perfume." In the end, we spent the Nordstrom credit on a pair of shoes to match an outfit I put together from the Gap and Banana Republic.

A couple hours later we got home and I opened the door to the office to say hi to the kids who were playing in there on their computers. "Weston" I said, 'do you like my perfume?" Offering an arm for him to smell. "Yeah. You smell like Amy." "See???" I shrieked at Steve. Then I marched over to Garrett. Again offering my arm, I asked, "Do you like my perfume?" Garrett sniffed. "Does it remind you of anyone?" Garrett answered, "It smells like Bailey!" Bailey is Amy's daughter. Clearly, Michael is spoken for. I think I'll go with the Marc Jacobs.

Rawhide!

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

When you get a new puppy, one of the things you worry the most about (along with puddles and piles on your floor) is your valued posessions getting chewed up. As small puppies, Bo and Luke both got ahold of things they shouldn't have, but by the time we got Luke, I got savvy to the need to have rawhide bones around at all times. It has become part of my daily dog routine to give the dogs each a rawhide strip to chew on.

Both of the dogs get pretty compulsive, once handed a bone. From that moment on, their aim in life is to guarantee that not a crumb of their bone gets down the other dog's throat, and to that end, they must get said bone down their own gullet post hast. Luke in particular is a bone gobbler, which led to a very messy barfing incident last week that I detailed in the following tweet:

Luke just barfed up a half-gallon pile of warm foamy, partially digested rawhide which reeked of sour pork product. Yargh!!!!

Nice, hmm? That particular incident is the closest I have been to coming emotionally unhinged by a mess made by any member of my family, human or canine. Since then I have become a bit more cautious about freely handing out rawhides to Luke and try to limit him to small pieces.

This morning, I gave each dog a strip of rawhide, and Luke grabbed the smaller of the two that fell out of the bag. Five minutes later there was not a trace of it left, and Bo, was still happily ensconced on the floor of the great room, gnawing at his. Luke trundled off to find Bo in his chewing spot, and proceeded to sit about a foot from his nose alertly watching as Bo masticated the bit of dried pig. Occasionally Luke would inch forward and Bo would emit a low warning rumble from deep in his chest. I got distracted with my usual Saturday morning load of laundry, but this is what I found about 15 minutes later:

Luke is the picture of resignation and sadness, while Bo studiously ignores him, savoring his bone all the more because he knows how much Luke wants it. Later while I was writing this, and Luke had wandered off to lie at my feet, and Bo actually came in to the office and positioned himself with the bone so that he was inches from Luke's face. If they were any more like real children I'd be yelling at Luke for teasing, and at Bo for punching his little brother.

Various Meanderings of My Mind

2008-09-04T17:30:00.000-07:00

To the Doctor Today

Weston has been complaining for a while that he feels as though he has something lodged in his throat that makes it uncomfortable to breath. I suggested that maybe it had something to do with his larynx changing size. Over the summer his voice went from slightly gravelly to a baritone that I can no longer distinguish from Steve's when I am a couple of rooms away. He looked alarmed at my suggestion, complaining that if his voice gets any deeper, he'll sound like Shaq. To rule out the possibility that he has been afflicted with something more sinister that laryngioshaqolitis, I took him to the doctor today. Turns out it may be caused by either acid reflux or post nasal drip. Either one sounds equally unappealing and involves the taking of medications for a month.

Should You Dress Your Age?

So I keep seeing this lady at Weston's school who is about 5'7" and around 130 lbs. with a very dark tan, heavily bleached blond hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, big boobs, body skimming shirt/job-bra, and some sort of athletic-looking shorts. The way I describe her she sounds similar to Pamela Anderson, and she does. Like Pammy, she looks like she is clutching desperately to her lost youth. She has a very nice, lean, fit body and an attractive face, but all you see is her mutton dressed as lamb. Now in the interest of practicing what I preach, I'm not going to start crabbing about how women of a certain age should hang up their assets and quit trying to look sexy. That would not be using my blog to promote women. Now would it? But maybe there comes a time when dressing like your daughter only points out to the world how much better that youthful style looks on her. I'm not for rushing out to buy calf tans, and polyester the minute you hit 50. If you have the body, flaunt it. But how about flaunting it Helen Mirren style rather than the way Cher does it? Or better yet, the way Cher did it back in 1998?

Yin and Yang

2008-09-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

We just got Weston and Garrett's test scores in the mail and their scores looked like mirror images of each other. Overall they both scored in the proficient to advanced area, but Weston does really well in Language Arts but not as well in math. Garrett struggles a bit with Language Arts and great in math. Genetics is a funny thing. Steve is a math whiz but doesn't like to write. (He won't agree with me, but I think he writes pretty well.) Faced with a math problem, I break out in a flop sweat, but I love to write. It's a good thing that neither one of us is an ax-murderer because it seems at least one of the kids would be firing up the blade sharpener in a year or two.

Gustav Doesn't Scare the Gay Community

2008-08-31T19:29:00.001-07:00

I just read the following excerpt from an article in the Chicago Tribune about hurricane Gustav bearing down on Louisiana. I love the gay community:

In New Orleans, although a handful of stragglers vowed to stay--a few dozen scantily-clad participants went ahead with an annual gay parade in the French Quarter--every
neighborhood of the city of 310,000 looked like a ghost town in advance of Gustav's arrival.

I just picture the empty streets of New Orleans with nothing save a tumbleweed or two knocking around the place. A half-dozen intrepid gay guys in drag, complete with hooker pumps and fishnet stockings, freshening breeze whipping the bangs of their long blond wigs as they march down Bourbon Street, arms linked in intrepid defiance. Fuck that Gustav! He's such a queen!

And in other news.... Strange doings are afoot in the town of Modesto.

Ditch the Banana Sling. Please!

2008-08-30T09:46:00.000-07:00

Dear Guy at Raging Waters -

Thanks for wearing that banana sling-style bathing suit the other day. That was really special. You, along with the guy sporting a pelt of back-hair that would have had Sasquatch gnashing his teeth in a jealous rage, really made my day memorable. Your reproductive organs wobbling jauntily with each step was about as sexy as watching a little kid pick their nose in public. Presented with your twig and berries so ineffectually covered by that thin layer of nylon, the doctor behind you in line had to restrain himself from asking you to turn your head and cough. Had I a small daughter, I believe the urge to shrink back in horror while shielding her eyes would have been overwhelming. Instead I got to watch my sons exchanging not so subtle snickers and elbow nudgings. Here's a thought. Next time you stand mired in a state of indecision in the swimwear aisle, board shorts in one hand and Speedo in the other, go with the board shorts.

-IFO

As Seen on TV!!!

2008-08-29T10:44:00.000-07:00

Seniors, are you tired of not being able to hear, but looking so uncool to the under-30 crowd with that discrete little hearing aid perched in your ear? Well now there's this abomination!!! The hearing aid that's disguised as (wait for it.....) a cell phone hands-free headset!!! Amaze your grandchildren, impress your lover! Operators are standing by so CALL NOW!!!

Are you kidding me? Now people that are hard of hearing have to worry that enhancing their ability to live normally, carry on a conversation, and watch TV at a normal volume with the use of a hearing aid is only for the old and irrelevant? Apparently, going around with a hearing aid, masquerading as a hands-free headset will "improve your image". I mean who doesn't wear their headset during a quiet dinner date, while watching football with friends, or at their granddaughter's dance recital? Wouldn't YOU find it much less "embarrassing" to be seen with your headset in your ear at a weekend barbecue or wedding than one of those little hearing aids.

Have you tried wearing your wireless headset for more than an hour? Ouch, major ear ache. The device, which is shown both larger and smaller than, but never actual size in the mailer, measures somewhere between 2 and 2 and 5/8 inches long. My own hands-free device (a real one, not a hearing aid) is exactly two inches long, and gives me an ear ache very quickly. For just $29.95 plus shipping and handling it promises to look like an "expensive" cell-phone headset, but work just as well as conventional hearing aids which cost between $1,500 and $2,000. So apparently if you are hard of hearing, you must not only be totally insecure about how you look, but be pathologically gullible as well. Don't think I don't see you guys rushing to your phones to order one!

Open Your Frog To Me, Baby

2008-08-26T20:33:00.001-07:00

Dear Madonna,

You are in amazing physical condition. There is no doubt about it. But this:
is just a little too reminiscent of this:
to be sexy.

Sincerely,

IFO