Blankie Wars

Daisy's favorite evening activity is cuddling with me on the couch while I watch TV and knit/crochet. She has her favorite blankie and can hardly wait for me to grab it before she leaps over the couch to be tucked in just the way she likes. This blankie is her favorite because the holes in the crochet are just the right size for her nose to sniff through, as well as her eyes to spy what's on the TV in case a dog appears on the screen and Daisy has to rescue us from that potential danger.

Mia, on the other hand, is not particularly thrilled that Daisy gets the special blankie while she has to stretch out on a mere towel that barely covers the couch she's NOT allowed to sleep on. (Well, that's the theory, but Mia does her own thing.)

Last night, however, after spending a couple of days on the coast, I was tired and forgot to fold the special blankie and store it off the couch. When I came out to the living room this morning, Mia had commandeered the blankie and it was evident from her fierce scowl that she is neither giving it up nor sharing it. Daisy, observing from her perch on top of the couch cushions, seems content to wait Mia out because she knows I'll pick up the blankie and not bring it out until it's time to cuddle after dinner.

Oh, well. Time to do some laundry, including dirty dog blankies and couch cushion covers.

"Tis the Season -- Again

‘Tis the day before Christmas and all through the house not a decoration is to be found. IF anyone were going to drop by, I probably would have caved and put up something, but my preference is don’t go there. Christmas has never been my favorite holiday, but my dotter annually insisted that I purchase this ‘n that, decorate everything in sight, and enjoy, enjoy, enjoy. That’s her Christmas; this is my Christmas, and reading a headline that assures me it's never too late to find a last-minute gift, even at the corner drugstore, does not make me want to rush out and buy something, anything, everything because I may have forgotten someone somewhere whose feelings I have inadvertently crushed.

Get over it: life is more than the number of gifts under the Christmas tree!

I used to be totally involved in church, spending endless hours working my tush off because God is sitting in the High Heavens marking up a huge black book that has my name in it and two columns: coming to heaven and going to hell. My goal was to earn as many black marks as I could because I knew there would eventually be lots of red marks because that’s just who I am. The harder I try to be good, the more trouble seems to come my way, and I’ve always hoped that I accrued enough black marks to somehow balance the totality of my life. To be honest, I’m not sure heaven is all that, but the fear of being burned alive for eternity was enough to make me want to be on the goodness and light side of that final decision. If that is even possible, that is.

I love Christmas carols, but mostly hate all of today's popular Christmas music because it’s all about what I want at this time of the year, and that’s mostly expensive presents that affirm I’m worthy of everyone I know spending money they may not have to keep me on their friends’ list on Facebook. I suspect there are far more people who feel as I do that being good just to get an unwanted, unneeded present from the Jolly Old Fatman isn’t all that much incentive after the first rush of adrenalin passes on Christmas morning.

It is absurd to me that anyone goes into debt to buy anyone’s affection with extravagant gifts they darned well know they cannot afford, yet TV commercials portray that as “the thing” to do. Ergo, the young, well-dressed, seemingly affluent couple in the elevator when the special music plays to alert the unsuspecting hubby that there’s a new car waiting at the curb. THAT is a discussion and a decision the couple should make together, NOT a surprise that one person springs on the other in the spirit of conspicuous Christmas consumption.

No wonder all those children stand in line at the present give-aways: all they know is that the more they get, the happier they’ll be – until the present loses its initial appeal and life has not changed one iota for the unhappy child. I’ve heard the mothers (primarily) in the retail stores threatening the children to be good “or else.” The “or else” is far too often no presents, when it should be an appropriate punishment for bad behavior, such as a time-out or, in my book, taking the overly-tired, stressed-out child home for a nap!

And, being brutally honest this fine Christmas Eve morning, I am totally suspect of all the “needy” families who get as much free bounty during the holidays as they possibly can score. When the media shows these “needy” families lining up for the give-aways, I’m often struck by the quality of the clothing, the trendy accessories, the huge, new SUV’s and the spiffy custom chrome wheels on the family sedans. In downtown LA, the street people who show up to eat the holiday meals are truly in need of the meal, as well as the kindness of strangers, but out where I live? Not so much.

I’m not into buying presents because it’s Christmas: I prefer to gift people who need gifts throughout the year but even that practice comes back and bites me in the ass more often than not.

Example: a woman I know who receives public assistance, also works a part-time job, and sometimes gets child support from her child’s father (never married), complained to me at T’giving that she didn’t have the money to put gas in her car so she could drive to her parents’ home for T’giving dinner. Yep, I fell for it and gave her $25 for a tank of gas. Imagine my surprise when she told me after the fact that she received a free holiday meal, so she didn’t drive to her parents’ home after all, but … a week later, she told me she purchased a computer for her dotter, as well as upgraded her cable service to include internet service.

Ho-ho-ho: merry take what you can get and run like hell, laughing behind the guileless donor’s back!

I was taught to work for what I need and to think long and hard about what I want: once the needs are met, the wants can be considered, but no one is promised a life wherein all the wants are provided. I watched a Christmas movie (probably on Hallmark) that showed a “pioneer” family struggling to make it to the end of another year. The daughter worked night after night to first make, and then embroider, a hanky for her father. When he opened the meager package, he was emotionally overwhelmed by the gift that came straight from the child’s heart.

If there were more Christmases like that in reality, rather than confined to the sappy Hallmark movies, I’d probably be much more on-board with the whole holiday thing.

Crash, yes, but No Burn

I’ve never had a computer crash before, but about 2 weeks ago, I finished my business, shut down my laptop, and returned to it several hours later to find a blank grey screen. The Fujitsu logo flashed for an instant, but then … nothing. I removed the battery; I tried letting it “rest,” thinking that not using it would somehow change the blankness. I called around to find a shop that would take a look, then sent son the email, even though there was nothing he could do from thousands of miles away. Yesterday, my favorite international student came for a visit and we played computer repair for about 5 hours!!

Bottom line is that there was nothing, so with nothing to lose we wiped the hard drive clean, then started over. Yeah, all those files are gone, but I saved most of them on a flash drive within the last month, so what’s lost is lost, but what’s saved is still saved. Nothing else to do when nothing is working. It was challenging to get anything on the screen, but we plowed through it and used the disks that came with the laptop to reformat it, then used my purchased copy of Microsoft Office to put that back as it’s one of my most-used programs.

Somehow, we were successful and everything is working again. There are subtle changes so it’s not exactly “my” laptop again, but we’ll get there.

PS: 2 preferences I don't seem able to find are (1) my font for Microsoft Word and auto delete browing history upon leaving the web. Any assistance will be appreciated.

Descending

Sometimes, it takes a thousand words to tell a story; other times, all it takes is one good picture to tell it better than any words. The best scene in the limited release movie The Descendants is the panoramic view of virgin Hawaiian land, 25 million acres of it handed down through the generations to what appears to be an all-haolie conglomeration of off-spring of Hawaiian royalty determined to get rich off selling that inheritance to the highest bidder. The land is in a trust solely administered by George Clooney’s character and it is his decision to make whether to sell the land to developers, and, if that is the decision, to which developers. Meanwhile, George’s screen wife is in a boating accident and brain dead, so he also has to honor her living will and pull the plug.

Stressful time poorly presented by mediocre acting, especially by George Clooney, who stands to the side of the wrenching emotional aspects of the film and portrays a distraught husband and father, rather than becoming one. A good actor doesn’t play the part, s/he becomes the character, a concept that eludes this cast and degenerates the film into a farce.

This is a movie I would have walked out on but for my movie buddy, who stays until the bitter end of even the most awful movie – and this is one of the most awful movies I’ve endured in a while. It’s not just the story, which could have ended with George turning to his cousin after viewing the panorama of unspoiled land and saying, “Nope, not going to sell it.” It could have ended when George acknowledges the doctor’s prognosis and decision to honor the living will and pull the plug. It could have ended with George slapping the crap out of his filthy-mouthed typical teen daughter, who richly deserves it. It could have ended with George telling Syd, his daughter’s boy friend, not only no, but hell no: he is not going to be blackmailed by his filthy-mouthed teen daughter into dragging this worthless piece of humanity with them through the death process of his soon-to-be deceased wife. It could have ended with him making the decision not to ruin anyone else’s lives by confronting the realtor who had an affair with George’s soon-to-be-deceased wife.

It should have ended when the back cover of the book closed, but someone decided it would make a good film. Bad decision; bad film.

Te-bowing

I can think of at least one hundred more awful things that students do on a daily basis without being suspended from school, so to me, the "Tebow" is not worthy of mass media coverage.

The pose is the classic "Thinker" pose, and it never hurts anyone to take just a second to stop and think before moving on. We are far too quick to take offense where none is warranted and to impose punishment that far exceeds the crime.

Let the kids "Tebow" if it allows them to make a harmless statement of support for an underdog, an athlete who seems to be beyond the drugs, sex, and rock 'n roll of so many teen heroes. So much better than flipping the finger or expressing themselves with a string of uncensored profanity.

Get over it: move on. It's just taking a knee, folks.

Nitpicking the Media

Sandra Bullock steps out in a two-piece suit featuring a plunging neckline on the jacket and that becomes a statement about her divorcee status. That is so last year!

Koby’s wife suspects he’s cheated on her again and has filed for divorce after 10 years of speculation about what happens on the road trips: time must be up on the pre-nup.

George Clooney reminds everyone that he was married once; in certain communities, the correct response to that statement is, “So was Rock Hudson.”

Gnute Gingrich assures the country that he and his current wife signed an actual agreement to be faithful to each other: no shacking up with and/or screwing around with anyone other than the legal spouse this time around. Did he miss that part in his first two marriages: the "foresaking all others" pledge that's part of most marriage vows? I'm going to guess he agreed to it both times before, but perhaps it only counts if Gnute puts it in writing?

John Edwards is moving into his home Rielle Hunter and their daughter, the woman with whom he did not have an affair and the child he did not father. Generous holiday gesture to extend to strangers.

Moving right along, Kim K is single and ready to mingle in Lost Vegas this holiday season: does she REALLY expect ANYONE to take her up on her provocative offer?

Christmas tree sales are down 30% at independent tree lots; unemployment is still hovering at 15% in many communities across the country. You do the budgeting.

All those charities to whom I sent a donation for the holiday season have responded with yet another request for yet another donation. Somehow, I expected them to hold off until after the first of the year and give me a chance to use up all the free address labels I earned from supporting their causes.

Finally, the USPS is going broke, but the lines are longer this year than in past years at my local post office. Of course, they are all in line for postal services and not crowding around the in-lobby gift shop, but there still are no plans to shut down the stationery supply stores in favor of staffing the postal service windows.

Whatever.

Let's Face It

Meg Ryan always had such a distinctive face, a face that could express without words what most of us were feeling as she captured character after character on the big screen. Then, in the middle of the Hugh Jackman film, the one where he's from the past, Meg's face changed into a scary Jack Nicholsonesque joker caricature: she had a face lift or reconstruction or something that completely changed her look -- and not in a good way. Since that change, I've been uncomfortable with her appearance, so I don't want to see her in films. Perhaps coincidentally, she hasn't been cast in many films since altering her facial appearance.

This past week, I taped a Christmas movie that features Melissa Gilbert, who has brought many chick flick TV characters to life during the past several years. I was horrified to see that the Melissa we all remember has been replaced with a Lisa Renna knock-off: big, fishy mouth and eyebrows way up on top of her forehead. Nothing cute or endearing about the finished product, and certainly NOT the look for a romantic lead in a light-hearted seasonal drama!! Her face became a distraction during the film and I found myself wishing that someone more youthful, more natural looking, had been cast instead of Melissa Gilbert.

It used to be that women who had "work done" came back from a two-week vacation looking rested, relaxed, smoothed out. No one really knew if she had "work done" or not because it was subtle, not startling. Let's face it: it's nice that public people have access to plastic surgery, to the quick pick-up that keeps them forever the way we remember. However, with all the excellent plastic surgeons available to people of means, how the heck did two of the top stars end up with such dramatic -- and not very flattering -- fixes?

So, Sue Me

For the first time in a long time, I somewhat enjoyed watching Glee last night because Sue Sylvester was not featured in the episode: it was about high school glee club singers and a singing competition. Oh, sure, there were still the side issues, including a recently-aged 18-year-old male student banging a single female teacher, and a third party trying to disrupt a gay couple’s relationship, and a teen mother willing to do anything to hold her child’s adoptive mother hostage to get her child back, but that’s almost mild compared to all the other manufactured issues that are presented as the typical high school experience on this … singing show!

If we are to believe the “issues taken from the headlines,” teachers and students are so busy with intra- and extra-curricular activities that it’s a wonder anyone has time to teach or an opportunity to learn. Teachers and students are single-mindedly focused on sex, both heterosexual and homosexual, to the exclusion of all other foci that life has to offer. What’s most important in the curriculum, according to Glee, is that everyone with sexual intimacy and/or gender identity issues must confront them here and now in the most public venue possible so there is never doubt in anyone’s mind what goes on behind closed doors.

Sue Sylvester’s character fuels the chaos, confuses the educational environment with political issues and actions that would result in immediate dismissal in the “real” world, and manipulates students to turn on one another so she can sit back and enjoy the fall-out. Parents are screaming in the media that their children are being bullied: tune into Glee and see an adult pro teach by example. Parents are screaming in the media that their children are being persecuted for their sexual preferences: tune into Glee and see an adult pro teach by example. Parents are screaming in the media that their children are not being presented with an adequate educational opportunity: tune into Glee and it’s easy to see that there is no time in anyone’s day to cope with all the dysfunction and also have time to teach, to learn, to experience something beyond the “desperate housewives” mentality that is alive and thriving in the media.

And, if you believe the writers of Glee, alive and thriving in the high schools of America.

Teaching is a tough gig: today’s academic core teacher no longer has the luxury of class size under 30, the top of the do-able scale based on my 35 years of standing at the podium. Today’s classroom equips every student who walks through the door, oftentimes in excess of 40 per class period, with a desk and not much else; the student provides the electronic device to fill the void where a textbook should be, as well as the seat time served listening to a well-meaning, well-educated professional try desperately to be more engaging, entertaining, and relevant than the Kardashians. For far too many students, class time is more time to text, to twitter, to take and post pictures, to visit one’s wall, to update one’s status, and to pass on any given individual’s take on what is happening at the most boring place on Earth: the totally out of control, dysfunctional American high school run by an out-of-touch administration and staffed by a faculty of buffoons that rivals the Barnum and Bailey Circus!

Add Sue Sylvester to the mix and the scenario goes too far beyond unreal to believe, but many parents believe that Sue’s the way it really is because that’s what their children tell them. Parents believe their children when they are told that “my teacher” did this or that, said this or that – and the parents go in for the kill. It’s hard to convince a parent that a child is making it up as s/he goes along to avoid consequences for their own actions when a very popular TV show seems to affirm that no matter how outrageous a student’s complaint, Sue Sylvester is much worse, with the rest of the fantasy high school staff not far behind! Rather than a microcosm of a typical high school, Glee has become the petri dish of dysfunction that parents would rather believe than the truth.

Glee was good when it was about an a capella choir learning how to function as a unit and then competing to challenge the choir to excel: great message for kids. The last 2 seasons, however, it has gone off-message regarding education and become something with absolutely no value-added, no matter how hard it tries, no matter how hard it pushes, no matter how outrageous the writers take the plot lines. In TV-land, it’s all about the ratings, about being renewed for another season, about making it big on the flat screen; for the educational community, for the first responders, for the hard-working middle class, it’s all about our jobs, our work ethic, our professional lives. Glee is just one more TV show to pit everything I believe and have worked my lifetime to achieve against a Nielson poll and win.

This week ...

Honest to Pete, this is the cold from hell and it simply won't resolve itself. Yeah, I know that technically it's community acquired pneumonia, often acquired by travelers during the holiday season when airlines pack us into a common petri dish for several hours at a time, but I've taken enough drugs to have wiped this out already.

Last Thursday, after teaching class up the hill, I came outside in the icy cold snowy rain to find a flat tire. By the time I had finished dealing with that, I knew there would be consequences, and there were: I spent Friday at the doctor's office, rather than teaching a scheduled class. I've had a chest x-ray, but he wants me to schedule a pulmonary function test just in case as my breathing is still an issue (probably the asthma affect) and my inhaler is close at hand at all times.

Two weeks left in the semester, so I have to suit up, show up, and get the job done. Somehow.

Doggone It

When Mia came to live with me, it was because I needed her protection after a man tried to get into my house in the middle of the night. The sound of breaking glass woke me from a deep sleep to instant awareness, but I instantly felt almost helpless to stop his progress because I should have known he was there before he was able to break the window. A big, barking dog warns off all but the most determined criminal, so I not only had an all-house alarm system installed, but found a dog to be the first line of defense against the outside world.

In the past, I always had a dog, but my relocation to this house was during a difficult time in my life that I didn't want to complicate with having to care for anything other than myself. After the crime, I looked for a dog and found Mia at a shelter: it was love at first sight. I have come to depend on her for so many aspects of my life, but most especially, the unconditional love and protection she shares with me.

I tested Mia's loyalty and tolerance when Daisy arrived via a friend who took her from a callous owner who had tired of her exhuberance. The first three months, Mia and I both questioned the decision-making that brought Daisy into our family, but once Mia put Daisy into her place, life smoothed out. I now cannot imagine not having my girls here with me, nor, it seems, do they doubt that they were meant to share their lives with each other.

A couple of weeks ago, friends were talking about what would happen to their beloved pets if they were to die suddenly/unexpectedly, and it stopped me in my tracks because I don't know the answer to that thought. Neither of my children would take my dogs home to live out their lives as Mia is too old for much change and Daisy is still pretty exhuberant. My children aren't dog people, preferring cats, and both of my dogs HATE cats and would snatch them for a snack in a heartbeat. Neither of my children have fenced yards nor doggie doors, so that would cause problems when everyone is at work and the girls stay home.

Lots of older people have dogs they can care for, talk to, and take for walks, beloved pets that bring a sense of family in the winter years of one's life when so many elderly people live alone for so many reasons. I know that senior living residences encourage family pets to live with their elderly owners, and some full-care facilities even have facility pets they share with residents too infirm to care for them individually. But, I honestly don't know what happens to beloved pets when their owners die and there is no viable alternate living arrangement.

Leonora Hemsley probably had it right after all: earn a whole lot of money and leave it to the dogs so someone can be paid to care for them until it's their turn to head for heaven. I'm not thinking that's going to be in my death benefits' package, but it sure is an issue that's at the forefront of my current thinking.