Today is a day to remember not just who each of us is, but who we are together: one nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all. Combat is not for everyone, but the willingness to fight against a common enemy is what creates strong unity between divergent people and assures that the democratic principles that define this country survive whatever is thrown at them by enemies at home and abroad. The tribute to the nation's military services was impressive last night, broadcast from the Capitol Mall in Washington, DC, because honor and respect were given to the military family, from the most-decorated general to the private's grieving widow.
The observance set a somber tone for a somber occasion: remembering our fallen warriors, as well as those who bear the scars of battle for a lifetime and the grieving families who must go on after burying their loved ones. Last night's event was truly a celebration of service to one's country conducted with dignity and respect through vignettes based on the real lives of service personnel and their families.
The courage of a black soldier, Charlie, who gave his life that others could live during a fierce battle in Korea, was a chilling reality check as, on the same day as this tribute, South Korea is once again preparing to face down its arch enemy, North Korea, in a continuation of a battle fought half a century ago. Survivors of that combat were seated in the front row, as well as Charlie's family, tears coursing down their faces as they relived those hours of their lives that changed them forever. Their legacy is a challenge to all Americans to live the commitment of a soldier who put the safety of others before himself because they were wounded and needed someone to stand up for them as they lay injured at his feet.
A recent war widow reached out via the internet for someone to hear her pain, to share her grief, to know that she loved her young soldier well, even though they shared their lives not for decades, but until death did them part far too soon on a middle-East field of battle. An older widow from a long-ago war responded, sharing her experience from the era of the VietNam war. Together, the survivors heal, but they never forget the moment they learn the real, personal price for peace, as well as liberty and justice for all mankind, at home and on foreign soil.
Wounded warriors participated in the event, their scars of service visible. Military music marched through the clear night air. Top-tier entertainers performed songs that capture the emotional depth that is seldom seen on the well-trained faces of the fierce warriors who do battle so others may live free. And no one protested when a special song was sung, The Lord's Prayer, the words to which all soldiers, living and dead, know by heart.
This is what our country is when we are at our best: one nation, under God, with liberty and justice for all -- and men and women who are strong enough to fight to ensure that not just this generation lives in peace in our country, but that the world lives in peace. Few are called to service, but those who serve do so proudly, and so we honor them today from sea to shining sea. God Bless America and those who honor her in service and in the strength of their determination to fight so others may be free.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
The Games Children Play
It's all over the local media: at one of the premier local high schools, students are playing a game they call "Nazis and Jews." The basic premise is that one person is tagged as "the Jew" and starts running, while the "Nazis" try to catch him. Who knows where the idea originated, or why teens think this is not only an appropriate game, but totally fun. Someone finally told, officials intervened, and now the students are going to have sensitivity training provided by the school.
My question: does anyone actually think that the school is responsible for the game and, thus, has to provide a solution?
Isn't that kind of training what the parents instill at home? Or kids learn in church? Or is this the latest, greatest video game? A YouTibe viral video? A counter-culture status symbol? Does the public actually think that the schools teach this curriculum in the classroom; hence, commence the ethnic cleansing game in a geographical location that enjoys a large population of Jewish residents and boasts a "tolerance park" dedicated to the memory of those Jews who were put to death by the Nazis during WWII. Kids do live what they learn, but I'm not so sure that the schools are the guilty "in loco parentis" party for this aberration of basic humanity.
The modern shorthand, however, is "it's the schools," as it absolves the other societal agencies of any complicity in the blame game, especially for such abhorrent behavior by "good kids" who all come from "good families." The only commonality these kids have is ... the school, so this must originate at the schools and will be solved by the schools. People really believe this to be a direct cause/effect issue between the school and the child, so it makes perfect sense to anyone who is NOT employed by the local school district!
It once again becomes the directive for the public schools to teach the concepts of ethics, morality, tolerance, and acceptance of differences, but these are not goals to achieve on a standardized test. These are deeply-held values that take a lifetime to learn. It's easier to abdicate society's responsibility for the lifestyle it has created and blame the failure of the schools for this game, but this is an instance wherein we all have to take responsibility for what these high school students are doing. We need to do a better job in our homes and stop blaming the schools for society's problems, as well as holding them solely accountable for retraining the students who commit these kinds of egregious offenses against their classmates.
It takes a village to raise a child, and the teacher is only one resident of the village and the school but one hut.
My question: does anyone actually think that the school is responsible for the game and, thus, has to provide a solution?
Isn't that kind of training what the parents instill at home? Or kids learn in church? Or is this the latest, greatest video game? A YouTibe viral video? A counter-culture status symbol? Does the public actually think that the schools teach this curriculum in the classroom; hence, commence the ethnic cleansing game in a geographical location that enjoys a large population of Jewish residents and boasts a "tolerance park" dedicated to the memory of those Jews who were put to death by the Nazis during WWII. Kids do live what they learn, but I'm not so sure that the schools are the guilty "in loco parentis" party for this aberration of basic humanity.
The modern shorthand, however, is "it's the schools," as it absolves the other societal agencies of any complicity in the blame game, especially for such abhorrent behavior by "good kids" who all come from "good families." The only commonality these kids have is ... the school, so this must originate at the schools and will be solved by the schools. People really believe this to be a direct cause/effect issue between the school and the child, so it makes perfect sense to anyone who is NOT employed by the local school district!
It once again becomes the directive for the public schools to teach the concepts of ethics, morality, tolerance, and acceptance of differences, but these are not goals to achieve on a standardized test. These are deeply-held values that take a lifetime to learn. It's easier to abdicate society's responsibility for the lifestyle it has created and blame the failure of the schools for this game, but this is an instance wherein we all have to take responsibility for what these high school students are doing. We need to do a better job in our homes and stop blaming the schools for society's problems, as well as holding them solely accountable for retraining the students who commit these kinds of egregious offenses against their classmates.
It takes a village to raise a child, and the teacher is only one resident of the village and the school but one hut.
The Test of Time
When couples fall in love, the more cynical of us take from their joy with our "yeah, but what about it lasting for the long run" comments. What seems so wondefully right today can become horribly wrong in the snap of a finger, and undoing the bad is so much more difficult than simply not making the mistake in the first place, but no one wants to hear the "what if," just the ah, you're in love!
News is like that: in the frantic rush to be the first on-air, we make huge leaps from what we see to what we want to see, from what we know to what we want to be true. Once those words are sent into the media, they are impossible to take back. The optimisitic news reports about the horrible accident on the oil rig in the Gulf have turned ugly as the worst possible outcome is now depositing oil on the shores. Wildlife is dead; ocean creatures are dead; wetlands are dying; and all we can do is talk about what we should have done, what we could have done, and what we would have done "if only."
The President toured the Gulf Coast this week, picked up sand to feel the oil, talked to the (perhaps well-staged) boots on the ground, listened to the rationalizations/justifications for the failure to stop the oil from pumping into the ocean. When he spoke to the American people, the President assured us that this problem is "his" problem, although there is literally nothing he can about what is happening -- unless he is a geologist who understands the topography of the Gulf Coast, as well as the geology of the ocean floor and depths that hides huge oil reservoirs that can be sent to the surface by punching a hole into them with a drill designed for that purpose. He can act in a concerned manner, stroke his chin in a thoughtful pose, and make all the heart-felt promises he wants, but he -- nor anyone else -- can do other than what is already (not) being done.
It's so easy to punch a hole into the ocean floor and use the natural internal forces of the earth to send oil gushing to the surface, but how does one plug up a hole, especially when all the internal forces of nature are determined to "pass gas" through that hole? Putting a lid on the hole simply stems the flow of oil until the pressure builds up and blows the lid off. Pumping fill material into the hole provides nature with something other than oil to spew into the Gulf and, when the filler explodes from the ocean floor, the oil cannot be far behind. There is no going back, and there does not seem to be a good future for this situation, so what else can be done?
Probably nothing: in the battle between man and nature, nature always wins. Always. We may be able to minimize the aftermath, but we cannot stop the process nor the damage this oil leak is causing and will continue to cause. The damage is forever, but we may be able to minimize it somewhat if we stop posturing and start producing counter-measures.
Sop up the oil would be my first option, especially since it continues to pump from the depths of the ocean floor. It does not matter which of the many, many alternatives have been demonstrated by people who say they have "the" answer to the problem: try them all. If each idea only works a little bit, the end result could be a lot better than doing nothing. Put unemployed workers on the beach, shoulder to shoulder Asian style, from one end of the oil slick to the other -- and let them scoop it into containers. Store the goo until someone figures out how to recover the oil and make it viable for the oil refinery to turn it into usable product. Send workers down to the leak in a submarine such as the ones used to probe the Titanic wreck and have them use the robotic arms to install a new fitting and attach a mile-long length of pipe to it and pump the oil to the surface and into a waiting tanker.
Or, stand on the shore, look toward the horizon, and wail about what's already done as if lamenting the accident or harranguing the authorities will change what's happening. Meanwhile, shut down all the other oil platforms and retrofit them so it doesn't happen again. We may be able to adapt to what now is, but I doubt we can be that lucky twice.
News is like that: in the frantic rush to be the first on-air, we make huge leaps from what we see to what we want to see, from what we know to what we want to be true. Once those words are sent into the media, they are impossible to take back. The optimisitic news reports about the horrible accident on the oil rig in the Gulf have turned ugly as the worst possible outcome is now depositing oil on the shores. Wildlife is dead; ocean creatures are dead; wetlands are dying; and all we can do is talk about what we should have done, what we could have done, and what we would have done "if only."
The President toured the Gulf Coast this week, picked up sand to feel the oil, talked to the (perhaps well-staged) boots on the ground, listened to the rationalizations/justifications for the failure to stop the oil from pumping into the ocean. When he spoke to the American people, the President assured us that this problem is "his" problem, although there is literally nothing he can about what is happening -- unless he is a geologist who understands the topography of the Gulf Coast, as well as the geology of the ocean floor and depths that hides huge oil reservoirs that can be sent to the surface by punching a hole into them with a drill designed for that purpose. He can act in a concerned manner, stroke his chin in a thoughtful pose, and make all the heart-felt promises he wants, but he -- nor anyone else -- can do other than what is already (not) being done.
It's so easy to punch a hole into the ocean floor and use the natural internal forces of the earth to send oil gushing to the surface, but how does one plug up a hole, especially when all the internal forces of nature are determined to "pass gas" through that hole? Putting a lid on the hole simply stems the flow of oil until the pressure builds up and blows the lid off. Pumping fill material into the hole provides nature with something other than oil to spew into the Gulf and, when the filler explodes from the ocean floor, the oil cannot be far behind. There is no going back, and there does not seem to be a good future for this situation, so what else can be done?
Probably nothing: in the battle between man and nature, nature always wins. Always. We may be able to minimize the aftermath, but we cannot stop the process nor the damage this oil leak is causing and will continue to cause. The damage is forever, but we may be able to minimize it somewhat if we stop posturing and start producing counter-measures.
Sop up the oil would be my first option, especially since it continues to pump from the depths of the ocean floor. It does not matter which of the many, many alternatives have been demonstrated by people who say they have "the" answer to the problem: try them all. If each idea only works a little bit, the end result could be a lot better than doing nothing. Put unemployed workers on the beach, shoulder to shoulder Asian style, from one end of the oil slick to the other -- and let them scoop it into containers. Store the goo until someone figures out how to recover the oil and make it viable for the oil refinery to turn it into usable product. Send workers down to the leak in a submarine such as the ones used to probe the Titanic wreck and have them use the robotic arms to install a new fitting and attach a mile-long length of pipe to it and pump the oil to the surface and into a waiting tanker.
Or, stand on the shore, look toward the horizon, and wail about what's already done as if lamenting the accident or harranguing the authorities will change what's happening. Meanwhile, shut down all the other oil platforms and retrofit them so it doesn't happen again. We may be able to adapt to what now is, but I doubt we can be that lucky twice.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Passing On
Drat: I have become my mother!!
I'm reading the obits, hoping not to find my name, an annoying habit that seems to develop with age. Unfortunately, I'm recognizing far too many of those who are going before me to pave the way, including recently a former high school teacher, a former junior high science teacher, and a retired Marine whose wife was a friend back in the day. I was taken aback to read that this couple had been married for 64 years. With each tick of the clock, I am on the other side of youth and my days are dwindling down to a precious few. Better make better use of them, huh?
Unfortunately, I'm also talking to the dogs, especially Daisy, who leaps onto my lap and stares me in the eye as if I'm supposed to psychically pick up on whatever it is she's wanting to communicate. Actually, I do ask her questions, trying to figure it out, perhaps thinking that she'll somehow answer me using her words so I can get whatever it is she wants. When that fails, Mia comes over, sits and looks at me imperiously, and when I still don't get it, Mia barks and does that head-turning thing I have named "show me." I tried to teach Daisy to "be quiet," especially during the night, but she responded much better to "SHUT THE HELL UP!" She also has learned "no" and "off," both as a result of post-surgery protection from the instant pain of her insistence on using my body as a sleeping palette.
The semester is finished, the winds are still howling in the desert's best sundowner fashion, and the house has a layer of sand everywhere. Today's plan is to scrape off that layer so Mother Nature can deposit a fresh layer over the weekend. I also need to vacuum the carpeting, a repository for dog hair that is stubbornly resistant to removal. My son donated a bagless whirlwind cleaner before relocating to Canada, and I fill that plastic container several times just vacuuming the living room carpet and couches. I've added a final phase to the process, a quick dusting with the spray-on carpet shampoo, followed by a thorough brushing, to make sure most of the dog hair has been pulled out of the fibers. While some families enjoy using the floor as alternate seating, I shudder to do the same!
Not much on the agenda for this holiday weekend, although I may rent a couple of movies that have been recently released. It may be time to sign up for NetFlix as the local video store (yes, we still have one) charges $1.99 per day to rent a movie, but you can keep it as long as you want at that price per day. I'm reluctant to try NetFlix as I'm not sold on the Sat radio that came with the new car and I really did not like FaceBook -- so adding another modern convenience to my life may not turn out the way I intend.
See, I told you I am become my mother!
I'm reading the obits, hoping not to find my name, an annoying habit that seems to develop with age. Unfortunately, I'm recognizing far too many of those who are going before me to pave the way, including recently a former high school teacher, a former junior high science teacher, and a retired Marine whose wife was a friend back in the day. I was taken aback to read that this couple had been married for 64 years. With each tick of the clock, I am on the other side of youth and my days are dwindling down to a precious few. Better make better use of them, huh?
Unfortunately, I'm also talking to the dogs, especially Daisy, who leaps onto my lap and stares me in the eye as if I'm supposed to psychically pick up on whatever it is she's wanting to communicate. Actually, I do ask her questions, trying to figure it out, perhaps thinking that she'll somehow answer me using her words so I can get whatever it is she wants. When that fails, Mia comes over, sits and looks at me imperiously, and when I still don't get it, Mia barks and does that head-turning thing I have named "show me." I tried to teach Daisy to "be quiet," especially during the night, but she responded much better to "SHUT THE HELL UP!" She also has learned "no" and "off," both as a result of post-surgery protection from the instant pain of her insistence on using my body as a sleeping palette.
The semester is finished, the winds are still howling in the desert's best sundowner fashion, and the house has a layer of sand everywhere. Today's plan is to scrape off that layer so Mother Nature can deposit a fresh layer over the weekend. I also need to vacuum the carpeting, a repository for dog hair that is stubbornly resistant to removal. My son donated a bagless whirlwind cleaner before relocating to Canada, and I fill that plastic container several times just vacuuming the living room carpet and couches. I've added a final phase to the process, a quick dusting with the spray-on carpet shampoo, followed by a thorough brushing, to make sure most of the dog hair has been pulled out of the fibers. While some families enjoy using the floor as alternate seating, I shudder to do the same!
Not much on the agenda for this holiday weekend, although I may rent a couple of movies that have been recently released. It may be time to sign up for NetFlix as the local video store (yes, we still have one) charges $1.99 per day to rent a movie, but you can keep it as long as you want at that price per day. I'm reluctant to try NetFlix as I'm not sold on the Sat radio that came with the new car and I really did not like FaceBook -- so adding another modern convenience to my life may not turn out the way I intend.
See, I told you I am become my mother!
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Mirror Ball, Mirror Ball, Who's the Best Dancer of them All?
The top score is a 10 from each of the 3 judges, a challenging score to achieve. Last night, during the finals, the judges were "wowed" by the sports' caster and the Olympian, but not so much the incredible, over-the-top, so much better freestyle performance of the favorite!
I don't understand how missing one lift in a routine that was filled with extraordinary dancing and creative lifts (that one judge admitted he'd never seen before) could result in 9's across the board. Had there been a score higher than a 10, Derek and his partner should have earned it -- even with the one missed lift.
As Erin danced her freestyle, I thought 8's at best: it simply wasn't that unique, that interesting, or that challenging a routine. When Evan jumped and bounced all over the dance floor, I thought he looked like a vaudeville performer hyped on too much coffee and just winging it. When Nicole and Derek took to the floor, the intricacies of their performance, coupled with the precision and the high energy, simply amazed me. THAT was what I had been waiting to see, and they delivered.
Seriously, 9's???
I don't understand how missing one lift in a routine that was filled with extraordinary dancing and creative lifts (that one judge admitted he'd never seen before) could result in 9's across the board. Had there been a score higher than a 10, Derek and his partner should have earned it -- even with the one missed lift.
As Erin danced her freestyle, I thought 8's at best: it simply wasn't that unique, that interesting, or that challenging a routine. When Evan jumped and bounced all over the dance floor, I thought he looked like a vaudeville performer hyped on too much coffee and just winging it. When Nicole and Derek took to the floor, the intricacies of their performance, coupled with the precision and the high energy, simply amazed me. THAT was what I had been waiting to see, and they delivered.
Seriously, 9's???
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Compression
It's massive stress time, with it all coming down to the last week of the semester not just for me, but for the students who missed classes without projecting forward to the consequences of those absences for their semester grades. No, we do not go back and "make up" all the missed assignments for an entire semester: this is college, not high school, and as an adult, the student is solely responsible for either attending class or not, either completing the curriculum or not, either passing the class or not. TV shows can be DVR'd and watched when it's convenient, but classes meet when they meet: either attend or don't. No "later."
The dogs are engaged in a contest to see which one can lick me first and more. I hate dog lick, but find myself being ambushed, especially if/when I have to bend over to pick something up from the floor or reach out to touch something. Daisy is fast, but Mia is thorough. Yuck.
Although the temps soared well into the 90's a bit ago, we're back to hurricane force winds blowing 24/7. I hate the wind, as well as the stinging sand it picks up from the desert floor and carries with it. Today, there are big, white, fluffy clouds topping off the mountains, but I doubt that we'll have more rain from any of this. Just wind, more wind, and too much wind.
The people diagonally behind me, the ones who built their block wall across the 10-foot public utility alley access, are adding a wooden shade structure to the backyard. If they have to relocate the brick wall to provide utility access behind the house, as required by law, they will probably also have to relocate the shade structure. They have a very narrow backyard that runs the length of the property, but no depth, as the house was placed toward the back of the property line; hence, pushing the brick wall back another 10 feet, as well as extending the shade structure as far as possible.
I took the time to reprogram all the summer season shows into my remote for the DVR. The summer season is much better than the fall season, mostly on the "off" channels, rather than the network channels, and I don't want to miss some favorite shows. My new favorite is Miami Medical, but I also love both NCIS and NCIS Los Angeles, which are going on hiatus. I'm bummed that Law and Order ended its run, but will give L&O LA a chance to fill in for the long-running franchise linch pin.
My vacation is starting to take shape, so I'm getting into the spirit of adventure and travel. My goal is to visit both the dinosaur park at 4 corners and 2 friends who have moved out of state. I've never been to WY, but will just drive to my friend's new home and then on to my next stop, rather than try to visit all the well-known attractions in WY. I enjoy the drive almost as much as I enjoy stopping here and there along the way, so I try to let it happen, rather than schedule what, where, and when. I'll miss my travel buddy, but totally understand that he did not want to fly out to meet me by himself. I have a housesitter coming to take care of the property and the dogs while I'm gone, so it's on to the next step in the planning process.
Hi-ho, hi-ho: I have things to do and places to go.
The dogs are engaged in a contest to see which one can lick me first and more. I hate dog lick, but find myself being ambushed, especially if/when I have to bend over to pick something up from the floor or reach out to touch something. Daisy is fast, but Mia is thorough. Yuck.
Although the temps soared well into the 90's a bit ago, we're back to hurricane force winds blowing 24/7. I hate the wind, as well as the stinging sand it picks up from the desert floor and carries with it. Today, there are big, white, fluffy clouds topping off the mountains, but I doubt that we'll have more rain from any of this. Just wind, more wind, and too much wind.
The people diagonally behind me, the ones who built their block wall across the 10-foot public utility alley access, are adding a wooden shade structure to the backyard. If they have to relocate the brick wall to provide utility access behind the house, as required by law, they will probably also have to relocate the shade structure. They have a very narrow backyard that runs the length of the property, but no depth, as the house was placed toward the back of the property line; hence, pushing the brick wall back another 10 feet, as well as extending the shade structure as far as possible.
I took the time to reprogram all the summer season shows into my remote for the DVR. The summer season is much better than the fall season, mostly on the "off" channels, rather than the network channels, and I don't want to miss some favorite shows. My new favorite is Miami Medical, but I also love both NCIS and NCIS Los Angeles, which are going on hiatus. I'm bummed that Law and Order ended its run, but will give L&O LA a chance to fill in for the long-running franchise linch pin.
My vacation is starting to take shape, so I'm getting into the spirit of adventure and travel. My goal is to visit both the dinosaur park at 4 corners and 2 friends who have moved out of state. I've never been to WY, but will just drive to my friend's new home and then on to my next stop, rather than try to visit all the well-known attractions in WY. I enjoy the drive almost as much as I enjoy stopping here and there along the way, so I try to let it happen, rather than schedule what, where, and when. I'll miss my travel buddy, but totally understand that he did not want to fly out to meet me by himself. I have a housesitter coming to take care of the property and the dogs while I'm gone, so it's on to the next step in the planning process.
Hi-ho, hi-ho: I have things to do and places to go.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
A Border Has 4 Sides
Let's look at this whole AZ thing from the perspective of the legal, the illegal, the politically expedient, and the corrupt.
The federal government says that the US has a legal process for anyone from another country who wants to live in the USA and benefit from the lifestyle America has to offer. It does not matter the country of origin: the process is the same for all immigrants. The US shares a physical border with both Canada and Mexico, but, it seems, the Canadians are the immigrants who follow the citizenship process, while the Mexicans choose not to do so. If an American leaves his/her country, s/he must have passport in hand to both exit the US and enter the bordering country. On the return trip, same rules apply: no passport, no re-entry into the US and, perhaps, jail in the country into which the American enters illegally. Canada favors deportation for the offense, while the stories of Americans held in Mexican jails without legal counsel or options are legendary.
Complicating the situation is the law enforcement angle between bordering nations: our federal government requires that the border be kept secure, most particularly since 9-11. While the Mexican border agents seem able to keep illegal Americans out of Mexico, the US agents are unable to keep illegal Mexicans out of the US because the border is too porous. Corrupt officials, as well as drug runners, leap over the border fences, dig huge tunnels under the borders, transport vans filled with desperate Mexicans, and defy all attempts by the US to secure the borders. However, the failure to secure the border between Mexico and the US is necessary for Mexico because the Mexican economy depends on Mexican workers earning money in the US to support their families in Mexico. Based on its own inadequate financial viability, if the US border is secured (and illegal drug trafficing is stopped), Mexico faces financial collapse, providing a very real reason for the Mexican officials to turn a blind eye to the "highways" that transport illegal Mexicans (and drugs) across the border and into the US.
Another layer to the problem is that federal law requires that the borders are secure and that any illegal immigrant is arrested, detained, and deported, not just illegal Mexicans. The law is pretty darned clear on this process, but enforcement is impossible because arrests, as well as immigration sweeps, hit the front page of the media outlets and set up a hue and cry of racial profiling by illegal Mexicans and US politicians who benefit from the publicity. The issue about illegal immgration is swept to the side so the accusations of racism can abound. Why would any law enforcement agency want to deal with the negative publicity and public exposure of its personnel, who are just doing the job they are hired to do? The federal government refuses to support its own laws, which puts the agencies tasked with the duties of the law into jeopardy both from within its own bureaucracy and from the media standing outside its front doors.
This circle of ineffectiveness has come to a head in Arizona, a state that has taken a stand in the sand of their borders and challenged the federal government to put its money where its mouth is: if the federal law requires that illegal immigrants are arrested, detained, and deported, then provide the personnel and the financial resources to do the job and stand behind the legal process in the courts, but especially in the media. Stop telling the states to do the job and then accuse enforcement officers of racial profiling in a border state whose target population is Mexican. The efforts of any agency to deal effectively with illegal immigration is hamstrung by accusations of racism and racial profiling as anyone who has white skin is accused of being racially motivated and found guilty by the media and the politicians who refuse to risk their political futures by taking a stand against illegal immigration.
The discussion should not be about racism, but about upholding the law of the land -- whatever it takes. Accusing AZ of racial profiling and dragging Sheriff Arpaio into the confrontation for his strong stand against coddling criminals is simply using a straw man to take the fall for the federal government's own unwillingness to enforce its own laws. Of course, that stance is severely jeopardized by a president who chastizes the enforcement of those laws with his own accusations of racial profiling being the motivation for the laws. When the president challenges both the laws he has sworn to uphold and the agencies created to enforce the laws, he challenges the very foundations of the will of the people to make the laws, enforce the laws, and change them when that becomes necessary.
The message is what the media is reporting: if you personally do not agree with a US law, flaut it. Do whatever you want, rather than what is legally required. If you are arrested, carry placards that accuse the enforcement agents of racism and shout into the reporter's mic about racial profiling. Take the focus off the illegality of your actions and protest the legal actions of the enforcement agencies in the media. If you are loud enough long enough, you'll earn a get-out-of-jail free card.
Our laws are not wrong; lack of adequate enforcement, however, extends the welcoming hand of even greater floods of illegal immigrants into border states that are already on the verge of financial collapse from having to provide mandated services not just to their own residents, but to literally millions of residents of other countries who are in the US illegally. President Reagan extended amnesty to approximately 6 million illegal immigrants during his presidency, which opened the borders to anyone else who figured out that if you come here, you stay here, and you refuse to leave, you, too, will win. There is no process as powerful as public protest, and if you have the louder voice and the ear of the media, you, too, will be granted amnesty.
As for the lyrics Cher sings, we cannot "turn back time" and deal effectively with the purported 12 million illegal immigrants currently residing in the US, but we can secure the borders from this point forward. We can arrest, detain and deport those illegal immigrants who commit crimes and who do not have legally-required papers that allow them to be in the US. We can plug the tunnels and set guards in the desert to stop the coyotes from bringing in more illegal immigrants whose families work in the US and send millions of dollars to their family members in Mexico, jeoparding the economy in the southern border states that are mandated to provide services to even those individuals who are in the country illegally, including medical care, unemployment benefits, educational opportunities, and social services.
We can be proactive, rather than reactive, and work toward building a strong immigrant base of US citizens who live here openly and honestly, who get an education, who have job skills, who support the system from which they benefit, and who are proud to say that they are Americans, not hyphenated Americans whose first allegiance is to another country's laws.
The federal government says that the US has a legal process for anyone from another country who wants to live in the USA and benefit from the lifestyle America has to offer. It does not matter the country of origin: the process is the same for all immigrants. The US shares a physical border with both Canada and Mexico, but, it seems, the Canadians are the immigrants who follow the citizenship process, while the Mexicans choose not to do so. If an American leaves his/her country, s/he must have passport in hand to both exit the US and enter the bordering country. On the return trip, same rules apply: no passport, no re-entry into the US and, perhaps, jail in the country into which the American enters illegally. Canada favors deportation for the offense, while the stories of Americans held in Mexican jails without legal counsel or options are legendary.
Complicating the situation is the law enforcement angle between bordering nations: our federal government requires that the border be kept secure, most particularly since 9-11. While the Mexican border agents seem able to keep illegal Americans out of Mexico, the US agents are unable to keep illegal Mexicans out of the US because the border is too porous. Corrupt officials, as well as drug runners, leap over the border fences, dig huge tunnels under the borders, transport vans filled with desperate Mexicans, and defy all attempts by the US to secure the borders. However, the failure to secure the border between Mexico and the US is necessary for Mexico because the Mexican economy depends on Mexican workers earning money in the US to support their families in Mexico. Based on its own inadequate financial viability, if the US border is secured (and illegal drug trafficing is stopped), Mexico faces financial collapse, providing a very real reason for the Mexican officials to turn a blind eye to the "highways" that transport illegal Mexicans (and drugs) across the border and into the US.
Another layer to the problem is that federal law requires that the borders are secure and that any illegal immigrant is arrested, detained, and deported, not just illegal Mexicans. The law is pretty darned clear on this process, but enforcement is impossible because arrests, as well as immigration sweeps, hit the front page of the media outlets and set up a hue and cry of racial profiling by illegal Mexicans and US politicians who benefit from the publicity. The issue about illegal immgration is swept to the side so the accusations of racism can abound. Why would any law enforcement agency want to deal with the negative publicity and public exposure of its personnel, who are just doing the job they are hired to do? The federal government refuses to support its own laws, which puts the agencies tasked with the duties of the law into jeopardy both from within its own bureaucracy and from the media standing outside its front doors.
This circle of ineffectiveness has come to a head in Arizona, a state that has taken a stand in the sand of their borders and challenged the federal government to put its money where its mouth is: if the federal law requires that illegal immigrants are arrested, detained, and deported, then provide the personnel and the financial resources to do the job and stand behind the legal process in the courts, but especially in the media. Stop telling the states to do the job and then accuse enforcement officers of racial profiling in a border state whose target population is Mexican. The efforts of any agency to deal effectively with illegal immigration is hamstrung by accusations of racism and racial profiling as anyone who has white skin is accused of being racially motivated and found guilty by the media and the politicians who refuse to risk their political futures by taking a stand against illegal immigration.
The discussion should not be about racism, but about upholding the law of the land -- whatever it takes. Accusing AZ of racial profiling and dragging Sheriff Arpaio into the confrontation for his strong stand against coddling criminals is simply using a straw man to take the fall for the federal government's own unwillingness to enforce its own laws. Of course, that stance is severely jeopardized by a president who chastizes the enforcement of those laws with his own accusations of racial profiling being the motivation for the laws. When the president challenges both the laws he has sworn to uphold and the agencies created to enforce the laws, he challenges the very foundations of the will of the people to make the laws, enforce the laws, and change them when that becomes necessary.
The message is what the media is reporting: if you personally do not agree with a US law, flaut it. Do whatever you want, rather than what is legally required. If you are arrested, carry placards that accuse the enforcement agents of racism and shout into the reporter's mic about racial profiling. Take the focus off the illegality of your actions and protest the legal actions of the enforcement agencies in the media. If you are loud enough long enough, you'll earn a get-out-of-jail free card.
Our laws are not wrong; lack of adequate enforcement, however, extends the welcoming hand of even greater floods of illegal immigrants into border states that are already on the verge of financial collapse from having to provide mandated services not just to their own residents, but to literally millions of residents of other countries who are in the US illegally. President Reagan extended amnesty to approximately 6 million illegal immigrants during his presidency, which opened the borders to anyone else who figured out that if you come here, you stay here, and you refuse to leave, you, too, will win. There is no process as powerful as public protest, and if you have the louder voice and the ear of the media, you, too, will be granted amnesty.
As for the lyrics Cher sings, we cannot "turn back time" and deal effectively with the purported 12 million illegal immigrants currently residing in the US, but we can secure the borders from this point forward. We can arrest, detain and deport those illegal immigrants who commit crimes and who do not have legally-required papers that allow them to be in the US. We can plug the tunnels and set guards in the desert to stop the coyotes from bringing in more illegal immigrants whose families work in the US and send millions of dollars to their family members in Mexico, jeoparding the economy in the southern border states that are mandated to provide services to even those individuals who are in the country illegally, including medical care, unemployment benefits, educational opportunities, and social services.
We can be proactive, rather than reactive, and work toward building a strong immigrant base of US citizens who live here openly and honestly, who get an education, who have job skills, who support the system from which they benefit, and who are proud to say that they are Americans, not hyphenated Americans whose first allegiance is to another country's laws.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Social Networking in Real Time with Real People
It was a good idea, but it didn't work for me, so I have opted out of Facebook.
Basically, I am a writer, so I blog. My mind likes to twist and turn with ideas and issues that interest me, and I write about them in whatever frame of mind I am currently enjoying. Because I share my blog with students, I am cautious about some topics, as well as my perspective on others. Freedom of speech extends only to those who have the funds to defend themselves in court against those who demand their freedom of speech at the expense of others whose point of view they do not share.
FB is akin to the current passion for on-line farming: if I have chunks of time to spend doing something, I'd rather not use it maintaining an imaginary farm. Instead, I need to pull weeds, but don't seem able to kneel yet, so I stand and spray weed killer from on high and hope that it does the job for me. I also don't on-line game, mostly because I don't like to play games, especially those that involve mythical creatures in imaginary settings and require killing as many "enemy" creatures as one can to advance to the next level ... of an imaginary game. I do, however, enjoy playing Scrabble for fun, as well as playing Spider Solitaire on my computer.
FB seemed as if I had walked into a "family" of friends who were all in on the back story about which I had no prior knowledge. Because I don't know the "family" members, I don't want to be their friends, even though part of the FB experience seems to be collecting friends in the hundreds. My observation is that these people share personal information that could make me uncomfortable, especially with my "real" family members. The question popped into my mind, "Why would I want to share my personal life with people I don't know," and when I could not answer that question to my own satisfaction, I realized that the FB venue is not the appropriate forum for my mental meanderings.
Few people read my blog, and that is fine as I mostly write it for myself as a means of emptying my mind today so tomorrow's thoughts can thrive. Part of my goal as a writer is to ask questions that other people may also ask, but explore them from my perspective. No one has to agree or disagree with my blog postings as it's not a contest to see who is right, but simply an opportunity to explore ideas and issues and open up thought paths that may not have been wandered before.
I read a few other blogs, including both my son's and my dotter-in-law's, as they are both interesting, intelligent people who write well and often stimulate me to think outside my own little box. Contrary to popular opinion, I don't correct the grammar, the spelling, or the sentence construction of my own blog, much less the writing of other bloggers!! If a student is blogging to earn class credit, I may ask questions and/or make suggestions, but those are aimed at the thought process, not the written expression.
Going forward, I will continue to delete the invitations to become a FB friend, electronically isolating myself from both real and imaginary friends. If I want to talk to my real family and friends, I will contact them in the real world in real time, and share a real conversation with them, my definition of a real social network.
Basically, I am a writer, so I blog. My mind likes to twist and turn with ideas and issues that interest me, and I write about them in whatever frame of mind I am currently enjoying. Because I share my blog with students, I am cautious about some topics, as well as my perspective on others. Freedom of speech extends only to those who have the funds to defend themselves in court against those who demand their freedom of speech at the expense of others whose point of view they do not share.
FB is akin to the current passion for on-line farming: if I have chunks of time to spend doing something, I'd rather not use it maintaining an imaginary farm. Instead, I need to pull weeds, but don't seem able to kneel yet, so I stand and spray weed killer from on high and hope that it does the job for me. I also don't on-line game, mostly because I don't like to play games, especially those that involve mythical creatures in imaginary settings and require killing as many "enemy" creatures as one can to advance to the next level ... of an imaginary game. I do, however, enjoy playing Scrabble for fun, as well as playing Spider Solitaire on my computer.
FB seemed as if I had walked into a "family" of friends who were all in on the back story about which I had no prior knowledge. Because I don't know the "family" members, I don't want to be their friends, even though part of the FB experience seems to be collecting friends in the hundreds. My observation is that these people share personal information that could make me uncomfortable, especially with my "real" family members. The question popped into my mind, "Why would I want to share my personal life with people I don't know," and when I could not answer that question to my own satisfaction, I realized that the FB venue is not the appropriate forum for my mental meanderings.
Few people read my blog, and that is fine as I mostly write it for myself as a means of emptying my mind today so tomorrow's thoughts can thrive. Part of my goal as a writer is to ask questions that other people may also ask, but explore them from my perspective. No one has to agree or disagree with my blog postings as it's not a contest to see who is right, but simply an opportunity to explore ideas and issues and open up thought paths that may not have been wandered before.
I read a few other blogs, including both my son's and my dotter-in-law's, as they are both interesting, intelligent people who write well and often stimulate me to think outside my own little box. Contrary to popular opinion, I don't correct the grammar, the spelling, or the sentence construction of my own blog, much less the writing of other bloggers!! If a student is blogging to earn class credit, I may ask questions and/or make suggestions, but those are aimed at the thought process, not the written expression.
Going forward, I will continue to delete the invitations to become a FB friend, electronically isolating myself from both real and imaginary friends. If I want to talk to my real family and friends, I will contact them in the real world in real time, and share a real conversation with them, my definition of a real social network.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Juliet's Letter
It's a formula movie, one of those that appeals to young females, mostly, and some indulgent males who figure to score from the left-over romantic glow of a chick flick. It's also not very good on almost all levels: the actors are ... weak? ineffective? not engaging? The storyline is ... weak? ineffective? not engaging? The setting is awesome and the scenery breath-taking, but the script is not E.A. Poe, so the location cannot excuse the rest of the weaknesses.
The young actors are, bluntly, too young, and the older actors are, bluntly, too old. Since there is nothing in the middle, the entire movie has nothing for someone, an unusual approach to filmmaking. The male actor, occupation chef, who is engaged to Sophie, who is a fact-checker, not a writer, is over-the-top self-focused, which is annoying when it's supposed to be charming. Sophie looks so young that it's a wonder anyone takes her seriously, including herself. Most startingly, her breasts seem to enlarge throughout the movie: seriously. She starts out somewhat deflated, becomes bouncy, but ends the film voluptuous. Only in the movies, right? Her English love interest, Charlie, needs to find a really good zit treatment regimine as his face is a bit too "real" for the big screen.
If you want to have some fun while watching an otherwise trite, predictable very young chick flick, look for these additional glimpses:
**Charlie, perched atop a picnic table, seems to be flashing the audience with his butt cheeks, perhaps clothed in underwear, but hard to tell -- and then, suddenly, he has pockets and/or button detailing to give the appearance of pants that are totally different when he leaps off the table and stands up.
**Ditto a scene wherein Charlie and Sophie are walking and talking and two women pass them, going the other direction. When their walk takes them down another street, the same two women pass them again. How do I know? I recognized the ill-fitting thong visible through the cotton pants of one of the extras!!
And if you're going to do a balcony scene, BE ON THE BALCONY for the scene.
Would I pay to see the film in the theater? Nope. However, I'd probably rent it when it goes to DVD, especially for a jammie day or a girls' night in. Other than that, you've already seen it done by other actors in other films and much, much better than A Letter to Juliet.
The young actors are, bluntly, too young, and the older actors are, bluntly, too old. Since there is nothing in the middle, the entire movie has nothing for someone, an unusual approach to filmmaking. The male actor, occupation chef, who is engaged to Sophie, who is a fact-checker, not a writer, is over-the-top self-focused, which is annoying when it's supposed to be charming. Sophie looks so young that it's a wonder anyone takes her seriously, including herself. Most startingly, her breasts seem to enlarge throughout the movie: seriously. She starts out somewhat deflated, becomes bouncy, but ends the film voluptuous. Only in the movies, right? Her English love interest, Charlie, needs to find a really good zit treatment regimine as his face is a bit too "real" for the big screen.
If you want to have some fun while watching an otherwise trite, predictable very young chick flick, look for these additional glimpses:
**Charlie, perched atop a picnic table, seems to be flashing the audience with his butt cheeks, perhaps clothed in underwear, but hard to tell -- and then, suddenly, he has pockets and/or button detailing to give the appearance of pants that are totally different when he leaps off the table and stands up.
**Ditto a scene wherein Charlie and Sophie are walking and talking and two women pass them, going the other direction. When their walk takes them down another street, the same two women pass them again. How do I know? I recognized the ill-fitting thong visible through the cotton pants of one of the extras!!
And if you're going to do a balcony scene, BE ON THE BALCONY for the scene.
Would I pay to see the film in the theater? Nope. However, I'd probably rent it when it goes to DVD, especially for a jammie day or a girls' night in. Other than that, you've already seen it done by other actors in other films and much, much better than A Letter to Juliet.
Along the SoCal Coast
Yesterday, I drove to LaJolla to see my friend for lunch and do a few quick errands. Although it seems like a somewhat long drive just for lunch, she lives across the street from the beach ... across the street!! The ocean is one of my favorite places to visit, a place where I have always found peace, and she is one of my dearest friends. It's a win-win.
This is a snippet showing the small breakwater that provides a sheltered swimming area, now overly-populated by seals (the black forms on the sand).
An on-going controversy about allowing the people back into the sheltered swimming area seems to be coming to a head as the courts have ruled that the closed-off beach can be reopened to humans. Opponents fought the good fight, but the open beach advocates won the battle, just as the off-shore oil drilling advocates won their battle -- and we all know how well that's turned out.
The seals have fouled the little cove formed by the breakwater, so I'm not sure who would want to swim there, but perhaps there is a point I'm missing made by people whose joy in life is making meaningless points. Will the re-integration of humans into this tiny spot of ocean force the seals to relocate? Perhaps that is the goal of the humans' actions, but the seals are a huge tourist attraction, evidenced by the several buses that dropped off passengers during the short time I was there.
Sometimes, we do cut off our noses to spite our faces.
This is a snippet showing the small breakwater that provides a sheltered swimming area, now overly-populated by seals (the black forms on the sand).
An on-going controversy about allowing the people back into the sheltered swimming area seems to be coming to a head as the courts have ruled that the closed-off beach can be reopened to humans. Opponents fought the good fight, but the open beach advocates won the battle, just as the off-shore oil drilling advocates won their battle -- and we all know how well that's turned out.
The seals have fouled the little cove formed by the breakwater, so I'm not sure who would want to swim there, but perhaps there is a point I'm missing made by people whose joy in life is making meaningless points. Will the re-integration of humans into this tiny spot of ocean force the seals to relocate? Perhaps that is the goal of the humans' actions, but the seals are a huge tourist attraction, evidenced by the several buses that dropped off passengers during the short time I was there.
Sometimes, we do cut off our noses to spite our faces.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Mixed Message
Remember all the protests that beauty pageants aren't about beauty, but about so much more than that? Guess we've all learned that it is more than that: it's about sexually exploiting young women who are in it to win it by taking borderline porno photos that fix the pageant squarely into the realm of best body takes all. Trump's justification for the lingerie spread hyping the Miss USA pageant is that his show is on TV this weekend, while the other pageants aren't, breaking down the morality of the photo shoot to one word: money.
The price we are paying, however, for our overt emphasis on physical appearance and sexual attraction is too high. Just ask any woman who has ever been inappropriately touched or sexually violated how it feels to know that it's not about who I am, but about how someone thinks I look. Just ask anyone who has had sexually explicit photos released to the media. Just ask anyone who made a sex tape that came out from behind closed doors. Just ask anyone who was illegally taped behind the closed and locked door of a hotel room.
Today's youth knows that nothing matters as much as appearance. If a child's body is not aligned with what the media determines is desirable, young women can become obsessed to the point of doing physical harm to themselves. It's one thing to starve or exercise one's self into unnatural thinness and physical harm, but to pay to have a surgeon completely redesign one's body indicates how deeply imbedded a person's self-image is and how easily damaged it can be by the media. Heidi Montag is symptomatic of what's gone horribly wrong: she paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to alter her appearance to conform to what she thinks is the way she should look, including distorting her body with huge breast implants that take the focus off the person inside the cosmetic surgery. Don't see me: focus on my huge breast implants and then pick me to star in your next movie.
I do not totally disagree with what Elizabeth Hasselbeck said about the Dancing With the Stars contestants: it is not about the dancing, but about the "sexiness" of the performance. Listen to the judges' comments, especially the male judges, who slather over the scantily clad female dancers and then pontificate that it's a "dance" contest. When Carrie Anne makes a comment that a dance was hot, hot, hot -- the male judges look askance at her, as if her comment is offensive, but Carrie Anne's comments are always about the dancing. We cannot pretend that anyone watches the show for the dancing, but for the potential costume malfunction, the spur-of-the-moment sexual relationships that allegedly develop as a result of working together, the overt sexiness of the performances. If it were truly about the dancing, the costumes would blend into the background, rather than take center stage as the reason for the judge's scores.
And if we're watching for the costumes, for the sexual tension between the performers, for the emphasis on anyone's "jiggly parts," the next logical step is that there are those who will step over the line between a TV show and the implied entitlement that what is on the show is available to anyone who wants it.
A long, long time ago, I shared my perspective that the scanty costumes and the sexually explicit and provocative moves of the high school dance team were ... inappropriate. After all, a high school is not an adult Las Vegas showroom, and, in my opinion, there is a different level of appropriateness depending on the age of the performer and the performance venue. At another school, I was totally offended by a performance from the dance team that appeared on stage wearing scanty sexy lingerie and bumped and grinded their way through "He had it coming," a song that did not just display over-the-top sexuality, but glorified justified homocide.
In both cases, I was accused of being too prudish, but I stand by my observations today. Teenagers are 24/7 hormonal surges, so feeding the urges with costumes and performances designed to display the female form sexually is not appropriate. Teenagers need to be guided through age-appropriate awareness, not thrust into sexual competition with Playmate role models and home-grown sex tapes! Even the youngest children participating on cheer squads and school dance teams are slapping their boooties, thrusting their pelvises, and shaking their jiggly bits, moves that are questionable at best and age inappropriate in many cases.
Women in this country have more public rights than in most other countries, but instead of keeping the standard for women at the highest levels, we have become no better than the women who cannot see beyond the public display of their sexuality to define themselves. No, we don't need to wear burkas and cover our bodies, but we do need to regain a perspective on public displays of far too much skin in questionable venues. If a beauty pageant is going to be about global issues, about scholarship, about the well-rounded woman, then why does the focus of the publicity need to be on scantily-clad bedroom photos of young women in barely there lingerie?
The price we are paying, however, for our overt emphasis on physical appearance and sexual attraction is too high. Just ask any woman who has ever been inappropriately touched or sexually violated how it feels to know that it's not about who I am, but about how someone thinks I look. Just ask anyone who has had sexually explicit photos released to the media. Just ask anyone who made a sex tape that came out from behind closed doors. Just ask anyone who was illegally taped behind the closed and locked door of a hotel room.
Today's youth knows that nothing matters as much as appearance. If a child's body is not aligned with what the media determines is desirable, young women can become obsessed to the point of doing physical harm to themselves. It's one thing to starve or exercise one's self into unnatural thinness and physical harm, but to pay to have a surgeon completely redesign one's body indicates how deeply imbedded a person's self-image is and how easily damaged it can be by the media. Heidi Montag is symptomatic of what's gone horribly wrong: she paid hundreds of thousands of dollars to alter her appearance to conform to what she thinks is the way she should look, including distorting her body with huge breast implants that take the focus off the person inside the cosmetic surgery. Don't see me: focus on my huge breast implants and then pick me to star in your next movie.
I do not totally disagree with what Elizabeth Hasselbeck said about the Dancing With the Stars contestants: it is not about the dancing, but about the "sexiness" of the performance. Listen to the judges' comments, especially the male judges, who slather over the scantily clad female dancers and then pontificate that it's a "dance" contest. When Carrie Anne makes a comment that a dance was hot, hot, hot -- the male judges look askance at her, as if her comment is offensive, but Carrie Anne's comments are always about the dancing. We cannot pretend that anyone watches the show for the dancing, but for the potential costume malfunction, the spur-of-the-moment sexual relationships that allegedly develop as a result of working together, the overt sexiness of the performances. If it were truly about the dancing, the costumes would blend into the background, rather than take center stage as the reason for the judge's scores.
And if we're watching for the costumes, for the sexual tension between the performers, for the emphasis on anyone's "jiggly parts," the next logical step is that there are those who will step over the line between a TV show and the implied entitlement that what is on the show is available to anyone who wants it.
A long, long time ago, I shared my perspective that the scanty costumes and the sexually explicit and provocative moves of the high school dance team were ... inappropriate. After all, a high school is not an adult Las Vegas showroom, and, in my opinion, there is a different level of appropriateness depending on the age of the performer and the performance venue. At another school, I was totally offended by a performance from the dance team that appeared on stage wearing scanty sexy lingerie and bumped and grinded their way through "He had it coming," a song that did not just display over-the-top sexuality, but glorified justified homocide.
In both cases, I was accused of being too prudish, but I stand by my observations today. Teenagers are 24/7 hormonal surges, so feeding the urges with costumes and performances designed to display the female form sexually is not appropriate. Teenagers need to be guided through age-appropriate awareness, not thrust into sexual competition with Playmate role models and home-grown sex tapes! Even the youngest children participating on cheer squads and school dance teams are slapping their boooties, thrusting their pelvises, and shaking their jiggly bits, moves that are questionable at best and age inappropriate in many cases.
Women in this country have more public rights than in most other countries, but instead of keeping the standard for women at the highest levels, we have become no better than the women who cannot see beyond the public display of their sexuality to define themselves. No, we don't need to wear burkas and cover our bodies, but we do need to regain a perspective on public displays of far too much skin in questionable venues. If a beauty pageant is going to be about global issues, about scholarship, about the well-rounded woman, then why does the focus of the publicity need to be on scantily-clad bedroom photos of young women in barely there lingerie?
Monday, May 10, 2010
US Census: Redundant or Just Ridiculous??
Okay, it's not enough that I received the post card telling me that I would be receiving the US Census form and to fill it in or else. I then received another US Census form, and then a letter telling me that I would be receiving the US Census, and then a third packet for the US Census!! Every piece of correspondence warned me that I had to answer completely and honestly, and I did. Really.
Tonight, the phone rang. The caller: the US Census Bureau. I volunteered that I already completed my form, completely and honestly, signed and returned it, but the caller told me that, according to the law, the US Census Bureau has to contact each and every person who submitted a completed census to verify the information!! How anyone can verify information with a phone call I'll never know because a person who will lie on the form will lie more easily on the phone.
I then asked what kind of information needs to be verified? Basically ... the whole census form, including the list of did you give birth; has anyone moved in or out; was I confined to a shelter or facility; was I sheltering anyone in my home; have I been out of the country, serving in the military ... all the questions I have already answered. What the hell?
Sure, she's just doing what she's paid to do, but the purpose of redundancy is to provide depth, not just go over what's already been gone over. What a waste of my time, her time, and the taxpayer's dollars.
Tonight, the phone rang. The caller: the US Census Bureau. I volunteered that I already completed my form, completely and honestly, signed and returned it, but the caller told me that, according to the law, the US Census Bureau has to contact each and every person who submitted a completed census to verify the information!! How anyone can verify information with a phone call I'll never know because a person who will lie on the form will lie more easily on the phone.
I then asked what kind of information needs to be verified? Basically ... the whole census form, including the list of did you give birth; has anyone moved in or out; was I confined to a shelter or facility; was I sheltering anyone in my home; have I been out of the country, serving in the military ... all the questions I have already answered. What the hell?
Sure, she's just doing what she's paid to do, but the purpose of redundancy is to provide depth, not just go over what's already been gone over. What a waste of my time, her time, and the taxpayer's dollars.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Flipped
My birthday gift this year is a small digital recorder so I can have movies of some of the totally cute things the dogs do, as well as the breeze blowing my plants during the spring, etc. Yesterday, I drove to Target, about 15 miles one way, as my on-line research actually showed that store had the best local prices. I knew I wanted a Flip camera as it is easy to operate and I can download videos directly to my hard drive without much thought. However, once I was at the camera department, the sale's rep did his job and nudged me into an upsale, from the Flip to a Sony with more specs and options. I went along, paid for the purchase, which now had to include a separate digital storage card, as well as a new card reader, and a camera bag. Instead of being in the ballpark of the Flip, I had now increased the sale just about one-third. But, I had a Sony, a name we all know and love.
Back at the ranch, I unboxed the camera and, following the directions, began the set-up phase of installation. That's where it began to unravel because the little toggle was so small and the button associated with it so tiny that I simply could NOT input the correct data, beginning with the date. I selected 2010, then got May on the screen, but when I tried to toggle to the specific date -- POOF! -- whatever was on the screen was now the date! I tried everything I could find to use to go back, but that, evidently, is not an option.
Plugged into the USB port of my laptop, I decided to figure out how to take a movie. First, I had to flip the lense to turn the camera on, a feature that seemed unusual. If I adjusted the lense to point toward my target, the camera turned off. That was strike two in my scoring column. Strike three came when I had to select the icon to either take a still photo or make a movie -- and the tiny button to do this was on the "wrong" side of the camera from the lense. Rather than throwing the darned camera against the wall, I carefully removed the battery and the storage card, reboxed the whole kit 'n kaboodle, and returned it to the bag, along with the receipt.
Determinedly I psyched myself up to return an item I simply did not want because I could not use it. I was not optimistic because even though I know people who buy clothes, wear them to an event, and then return them, my experience has been that I'm stuck with whatever it is regardless of why I don't want it. However, I have just returned from Target and I now have the Flip HD camera I was originally going to purchase. It has nice, big buttons and toggle feature, so I can see how to operate it. I installed the battery, turned the camera on, and made a quick movie of Mia eating kibble.
That's all the Flip does: it makes a movie of whatever it is pointed toward, complete with sound. Ta-da. Got what I wanted!! Next step: make a movie and post it on my blog!! Wish me luck as that truly sounds way above my pay grade.
Back at the ranch, I unboxed the camera and, following the directions, began the set-up phase of installation. That's where it began to unravel because the little toggle was so small and the button associated with it so tiny that I simply could NOT input the correct data, beginning with the date. I selected 2010, then got May on the screen, but when I tried to toggle to the specific date -- POOF! -- whatever was on the screen was now the date! I tried everything I could find to use to go back, but that, evidently, is not an option.
Plugged into the USB port of my laptop, I decided to figure out how to take a movie. First, I had to flip the lense to turn the camera on, a feature that seemed unusual. If I adjusted the lense to point toward my target, the camera turned off. That was strike two in my scoring column. Strike three came when I had to select the icon to either take a still photo or make a movie -- and the tiny button to do this was on the "wrong" side of the camera from the lense. Rather than throwing the darned camera against the wall, I carefully removed the battery and the storage card, reboxed the whole kit 'n kaboodle, and returned it to the bag, along with the receipt.
Determinedly I psyched myself up to return an item I simply did not want because I could not use it. I was not optimistic because even though I know people who buy clothes, wear them to an event, and then return them, my experience has been that I'm stuck with whatever it is regardless of why I don't want it. However, I have just returned from Target and I now have the Flip HD camera I was originally going to purchase. It has nice, big buttons and toggle feature, so I can see how to operate it. I installed the battery, turned the camera on, and made a quick movie of Mia eating kibble.
That's all the Flip does: it makes a movie of whatever it is pointed toward, complete with sound. Ta-da. Got what I wanted!! Next step: make a movie and post it on my blog!! Wish me luck as that truly sounds way above my pay grade.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Gratulerer med dagen
This is the significant birthday, not just a milestone, but a potential tombstone staring me in the face. I've been trying to acclimate myself to the "senior citizen" societal designation that is so much a part of my daily life, but that's hard to do as the person inside this aging body is much younger than the sum of its failing parts! Believe me, it's a shock to glance into a mirror and see that old lady looking back at me.
Yeah, I had an ah-ha moment when I somehow turned on the laptop camera without knowing either that I had done so -- or how to replicate that accomplishment. I was working on another assignment when the screen winked at me and then there was an old woman where the document I was reading had been. She looked confused and somehow familiar, but it took me a bit before I realized it was I staring back at me. I shut down the computer (I didn't have any idea how to turn off the camera), brewed a cuppa, then had the reality check: oh, my God, I'm ... old.
Ha-ha-ha! 40 is the new 30; 50 is the new 40; and 60 is still old, old, old! Do we look better at 60 than previous generations? Sure, for the most part. Are we more active, more engaged in life, more healthy than previous generations? Sure, for the most part. But 60 is still 60, and it's a reality check, whereas signing up for MediCare is the tombstone.
Because it's my birthday, I thought about having a party. The last really great birthday event I hosted was held at a school where I worked and I called it the Nifty 50 event. I was happy as a clam to bake lots of goodies, to help students make costumes, to find some music from the 50s, and celebrate with people I cared about. However, the after shocks always have to be accepted, including those people who said it would be fine before the event, but waited until after it to slam me face first into the wall for using their valuable classroom time with students for my "selfish" celebration. I NEVER did anything at that site, and I did a lot for the students, without FIRST asking for permission, but passive aggressive people want to set positive people up for public thrashing -- and I kept walking into it. Made me a bit gunshy, and I really haven't wanted to put myself out there since that birthday.
As I began making the list of things to do both inside and outside to prepare for a party at my home, I lost my enthusiasm because I haven't been out in the yard for a couple of months and it needs tending. Then, there are people to invite, which used to be governed by the "the more the merrier" rule of thumb, but not so much now. Of course, that thought was then tempered by the question who would want to come to MY birthday party? Then I realized that most people drink alcohol, which I don't, so would I want to provide booze and deal with drunk people? Then I thought about a menu that would appeal to me (remember: MY party), but would accommodate the vegetarians, the grillers, the diabetics, and the picky eaters. So, I turned my idea toward coffee, tea and desserts in a drop-in, until I realized that I'd have to lock the dogs out of the house for the duration, and still deal with both the hangers-on and the no-shows. And, I factored in the cost of any kind of event and realized that there are other places I can spend money that will do more for more people than a party at MY house to celebrate MY big birthday!
Exhausted, I gave up on the party idea as too much effort for marginal results.
Here's the current plan: I'm going to buy a leg o'lamb (my favorite) and make MY entire favorite dinner for me, myself and I. I'm also going to bake a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chopped nuts on top. I'm buying myself a small movie camera because I want to capture my dogs playing together, and that's the entire plan. I'm going to eat what I want, freeze what's left, take some movies of the dogs, and move on.
Yeah, I had an ah-ha moment when I somehow turned on the laptop camera without knowing either that I had done so -- or how to replicate that accomplishment. I was working on another assignment when the screen winked at me and then there was an old woman where the document I was reading had been. She looked confused and somehow familiar, but it took me a bit before I realized it was I staring back at me. I shut down the computer (I didn't have any idea how to turn off the camera), brewed a cuppa, then had the reality check: oh, my God, I'm ... old.
Ha-ha-ha! 40 is the new 30; 50 is the new 40; and 60 is still old, old, old! Do we look better at 60 than previous generations? Sure, for the most part. Are we more active, more engaged in life, more healthy than previous generations? Sure, for the most part. But 60 is still 60, and it's a reality check, whereas signing up for MediCare is the tombstone.
Because it's my birthday, I thought about having a party. The last really great birthday event I hosted was held at a school where I worked and I called it the Nifty 50 event. I was happy as a clam to bake lots of goodies, to help students make costumes, to find some music from the 50s, and celebrate with people I cared about. However, the after shocks always have to be accepted, including those people who said it would be fine before the event, but waited until after it to slam me face first into the wall for using their valuable classroom time with students for my "selfish" celebration. I NEVER did anything at that site, and I did a lot for the students, without FIRST asking for permission, but passive aggressive people want to set positive people up for public thrashing -- and I kept walking into it. Made me a bit gunshy, and I really haven't wanted to put myself out there since that birthday.
As I began making the list of things to do both inside and outside to prepare for a party at my home, I lost my enthusiasm because I haven't been out in the yard for a couple of months and it needs tending. Then, there are people to invite, which used to be governed by the "the more the merrier" rule of thumb, but not so much now. Of course, that thought was then tempered by the question who would want to come to MY birthday party? Then I realized that most people drink alcohol, which I don't, so would I want to provide booze and deal with drunk people? Then I thought about a menu that would appeal to me (remember: MY party), but would accommodate the vegetarians, the grillers, the diabetics, and the picky eaters. So, I turned my idea toward coffee, tea and desserts in a drop-in, until I realized that I'd have to lock the dogs out of the house for the duration, and still deal with both the hangers-on and the no-shows. And, I factored in the cost of any kind of event and realized that there are other places I can spend money that will do more for more people than a party at MY house to celebrate MY big birthday!
Exhausted, I gave up on the party idea as too much effort for marginal results.
Here's the current plan: I'm going to buy a leg o'lamb (my favorite) and make MY entire favorite dinner for me, myself and I. I'm also going to bake a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chopped nuts on top. I'm buying myself a small movie camera because I want to capture my dogs playing together, and that's the entire plan. I'm going to eat what I want, freeze what's left, take some movies of the dogs, and move on.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Standing on My Own Two Legs -- Again
The last 2 weeks have parts that are blurred and others that stand out loud and clear, such as all the time spent on the chaise with my leg elevated, heated/iced. Yesterday was the post-op check, and the doc was amazed at how easily I can now walk, go up/down stairs, and both straighten and bend my right leg. Seems those are the tests for a job well done, and he earned the top rating. No, I haven't forgotten the leg turning black and/or the extreme charley horse that occupied an entire weekend, but it's done. When he offered me 6 weeks of PT 3x a week, I demurred, assuring him that I will continue to be so darned busy that not only will there not be time for PT, but it'll get done the way God intended: working my bountiful butt off as the semester comes to a close.
There was a sobering moment coming home from work Monday, an accident with vehicles spread across 4 lanes of the major artery between home and work. One of the vehicles, a small compact car, was in bits and pieces, and I said a prayer as cars snaked by on the shoulder of the road. Come to find out, a drunk local woman driver blew a stop sign, barreled onto the highway, clipped a car with 2 teens in it, sending it into oncoming traffic lanes, where it went head-on into a local woman on her way back up the hill. All of this at 4:30 in the afternoon! Any research into Hwy 62, which used to be one lane in each direction but is now 4 plus the turning lane, reveals that it is a slaughter alley. Because traffic can enter/turn off the highway all the way along its length, there is no way to install a center safety barrier -- so the death toll is going to continue to mount.
When I arrived home, Daisy had such a special treat waiting for me: she had killed another bird, brought it into the house while I was at work, and literally jumped with joy to share her treasure. I planted tons of native vegetation not just to lower the maintenance costs, but to entice the birds, butterflies and the bees into the yard as I love sharing the early mornings outside with nature. Daisy, however, may be single-handedly thinning out the local bird population! Guess she's a natural at birding, perhaps part of her terrier DNA??
I think I finally am caught up on all the little things I let slide as I sent out bills and cards yesterday, as well as a package to dotter for Mother's Day: a summery patio dress and the latest in the Bride series from Nora Roberts. She'll have to find her own bottle o'wine to complete the gift. My son/dotter-in-law sent me the funniest card I've had in years, which made my day because it harkened back to licking the beaters, a treat my children enjoyed as I've always loved both cooking and baking, but especially anything that required lots of sugar and a licking bowl.
Weather is gorgeous, in the 80s and clear and crisp, so life is good again in the neighborhood.
There was a sobering moment coming home from work Monday, an accident with vehicles spread across 4 lanes of the major artery between home and work. One of the vehicles, a small compact car, was in bits and pieces, and I said a prayer as cars snaked by on the shoulder of the road. Come to find out, a drunk local woman driver blew a stop sign, barreled onto the highway, clipped a car with 2 teens in it, sending it into oncoming traffic lanes, where it went head-on into a local woman on her way back up the hill. All of this at 4:30 in the afternoon! Any research into Hwy 62, which used to be one lane in each direction but is now 4 plus the turning lane, reveals that it is a slaughter alley. Because traffic can enter/turn off the highway all the way along its length, there is no way to install a center safety barrier -- so the death toll is going to continue to mount.
When I arrived home, Daisy had such a special treat waiting for me: she had killed another bird, brought it into the house while I was at work, and literally jumped with joy to share her treasure. I planted tons of native vegetation not just to lower the maintenance costs, but to entice the birds, butterflies and the bees into the yard as I love sharing the early mornings outside with nature. Daisy, however, may be single-handedly thinning out the local bird population! Guess she's a natural at birding, perhaps part of her terrier DNA??
I think I finally am caught up on all the little things I let slide as I sent out bills and cards yesterday, as well as a package to dotter for Mother's Day: a summery patio dress and the latest in the Bride series from Nora Roberts. She'll have to find her own bottle o'wine to complete the gift. My son/dotter-in-law sent me the funniest card I've had in years, which made my day because it harkened back to licking the beaters, a treat my children enjoyed as I've always loved both cooking and baking, but especially anything that required lots of sugar and a licking bowl.
Weather is gorgeous, in the 80s and clear and crisp, so life is good again in the neighborhood.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
I've Seen That Face ... Somewhere
Since January, I've been watching far too much TV as I sit with my right leg propped on a pillow. Daytime TV is the worst, unless, of course, you are into bitchy women dissing each other on talk shows, bitchy women dissing each other on daytime soaps, endless reruns of 20-year old crime show series, or made-for-TV movies running in a continuous looping format. I DVR night shows as I either fall asleep with the sunset or stay up into the wee hours, when I then have to deal with nighttime TV talk shows with bitchy male hosts dissing women.
I was watching a movie with the actress Something Masterson, who receives flowers from a really young Christian Slater. Masterson is a newly-promoted VP at a financial corp selling an investment package to an elderly gentleman with a British accent. I looked at him, looked again, and thought, hmmmm, I've seen that face ... somewhere, but it looks like the father of the face hidden in the back of my mind.
Then I watched another movie, this time entitled My Baby is Missing, and an elderly, kindly doctor with a slight British accent is trying to calm a patient. I looked again. Yep, I've seen that face ... somewhere, but it looked ... younger.
Last night, I DVR'd a new favorite series, Miami Medical, and had a "NO WAY" moment as I saw the face again, a much younger, much more handsome face, on a much younger man with considerably more hair on the top of the head, dark hair, not aging bald hair. Bingo! I binged the TV show and there he is:
(downloaded from the TV show web site with guest star Mike Farrell behind him). It's challenging to believe that this virile young male actor is the same ancient old men I had watched in the other 2 movies, but it is he, complete with the subtle British accent.
Jeremy Northam was born in 1961 and is a classically trained British actor, a much more age appropriate actor in Miami Medical than the other 2 movie roles I remembered. He certainly fooled me in the ancient men make-up. His accent is totally charming, which strikes me funny because I absolutely cannot tolerate an English accent and would never watch House were Hugh Laurie to use his normal speaking voice: nails on a chalkboard!! Northam has an extensive filmography, but not for as many starring roles as he has played the supporting roles.
Miami Medical is a great new TV series, especially last night's episode wherein Dr. Proctor (Northam's role) addresses a room filled with financial donors to convince them to open their wallets. He is uncomfortable until he pulls a domino out of his pocket and uses it as a prop to connect his day before with the need for continued financial support. He speaks about the randomness of so many traumatic events, events that don't just connect victims, but medical providers. He sets the scene for the donors, then asks them one question: which one of the victim dies?
I won't spoil the episode, which you can watch on your computer or catch in an alternate showing, but it is totally engaging, both for the donors sitting on hard chairs and eating dry chicken and the post-surgery knee patient sitting on her chaise with her knee propped on a pillow.
I was watching a movie with the actress Something Masterson, who receives flowers from a really young Christian Slater. Masterson is a newly-promoted VP at a financial corp selling an investment package to an elderly gentleman with a British accent. I looked at him, looked again, and thought, hmmmm, I've seen that face ... somewhere, but it looks like the father of the face hidden in the back of my mind.
Then I watched another movie, this time entitled My Baby is Missing, and an elderly, kindly doctor with a slight British accent is trying to calm a patient. I looked again. Yep, I've seen that face ... somewhere, but it looked ... younger.
Last night, I DVR'd a new favorite series, Miami Medical, and had a "NO WAY" moment as I saw the face again, a much younger, much more handsome face, on a much younger man with considerably more hair on the top of the head, dark hair, not aging bald hair. Bingo! I binged the TV show and there he is:
(downloaded from the TV show web site with guest star Mike Farrell behind him). It's challenging to believe that this virile young male actor is the same ancient old men I had watched in the other 2 movies, but it is he, complete with the subtle British accent.Jeremy Northam was born in 1961 and is a classically trained British actor, a much more age appropriate actor in Miami Medical than the other 2 movie roles I remembered. He certainly fooled me in the ancient men make-up. His accent is totally charming, which strikes me funny because I absolutely cannot tolerate an English accent and would never watch House were Hugh Laurie to use his normal speaking voice: nails on a chalkboard!! Northam has an extensive filmography, but not for as many starring roles as he has played the supporting roles.
Miami Medical is a great new TV series, especially last night's episode wherein Dr. Proctor (Northam's role) addresses a room filled with financial donors to convince them to open their wallets. He is uncomfortable until he pulls a domino out of his pocket and uses it as a prop to connect his day before with the need for continued financial support. He speaks about the randomness of so many traumatic events, events that don't just connect victims, but medical providers. He sets the scene for the donors, then asks them one question: which one of the victim dies?
I won't spoil the episode, which you can watch on your computer or catch in an alternate showing, but it is totally engaging, both for the donors sitting on hard chairs and eating dry chicken and the post-surgery knee patient sitting on her chaise with her knee propped on a pillow.
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