The news reporter explained while wearing his serious face that candidate Obama is frustrated that he has not yet heard specifics from candidate Palin about the Republican plan to turn-around what ails the country. Obama tells the crowd that he wants to know HOW the Republican candidates are going to accomplish their goals, not just that they intend to do so in a sound-bite. He hasn't heard any specific plan to deal with the economy, with the energy situation, with global warming, etc., etc., etc., since the RNC -- almost 2 weeks ago!
The clock is ticking, people!
Cut back to Obama (at this venue) sharing his feelings with workers about the need to turn around the economy and get workers back on the job. He's going to do this if he's elected ... somehow. I must have missed the specifics of the plan-- again. I'm sure that sometime in the year he's been on the election trail he's mentioned the specifics, but I'm not recalling where/when / how or what of that plan.
Perhaps the real reason Obama is calling for his opponents to specify what they are going to do is that he could use some help in figuring out his specific plan? Or perhaps I've just missed hearing those details being shared with the American people because Obama is saving that for a big announcement at a large stadium? Oh, that's right: he was already there and could have done that, but he didn't. Why use specifics when hyperbole is so much more a crowd pleaser?
What about the Oprah show? I can see the hype now: O on O!
I don't think anyone has a clue what can be done to turn this mess around! Some days, I think it's better that we implode because once we hit the bottom, perhaps we can do better the next time around. Next time, let's do it on a cash-and-carry basis, rather than relying on credit cards and people's word that they will repay the debt they incur. I've learned that people lie, cheat, and steal -- and squeal like stuck pigs when they are caught and held accountable.
Oh, wait, my plan would cripple the government, wouldn't it? That's where we all learned to live above our means, to bury ourselves in debt and then just walk away from it and let someone else pick up our pieces. I remember. And if I'm tempted to forget, all I have to say is "Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae."
Will those blocks ever stop tumbling?
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
The More Things Change ...
the more they stay the same.
It took almost exactly 3 hours to make the drive early this morning as the traffic was light and moving very fast. I joined the pack and Nascar-ed it with the rest of the road racers. Arrived in time to stop at my family home to say hello, and then all the "girls" went out for b'fast before I had to get to the park. The girls have grown so much and are all beautiful, talented, polite, and totally competent to take on the world and win: my kind of women! Their mom looks wonderful, no longer wearing the stress, verbal abuse, and depression my mother heaped on her daily for the first 15 years of her marriage to my youngest brother. As a matter of fact, she looks younger, happier, and thinner, too. Rest in peace, Mom.
After sharing a girls' group hug, I drove to the park and found the reunion site, staked out with a half-dozen grey-haired old men and women sitting in the shade. I didn't recognize any of them, not even the one person I thought I would recognize, but I introduced myself, looked at some of the collages about the past 45 years, and watched as the number of attendees swelled to perhaps 50 or so -- none of whom I recognized.
I did find my former neighbor, a rotund, rosy-faced, grey-haired little old lady who was wearing a straw bonnet covered in flowers and ribbons. It was such a cliche and so totally over the top, but it's her life. We talked a bit about the old neighborhood, and I tried to confirm that her brother married one of the girls who lived in the house between hers and mine, but after thinking about it for at least a full minute, if not longer, her only reply was, "Well, if her name was Jan, I think my brother married her." Perhaps not all the fruit is in her basket?
I talked to a nice guy, one of the twins in our class, about his career as an architect, his married children, and his grandchildren, the youngest of whom is 2 weeks old and lives in Prague with his family, the father of which teaches in the International school there. I talked to a blow-hard who claims to be a well-decorated author of numerous computer games, the names of which I recognized because my son is a gamer. He insisted that I sign his 45-year-old yearbook because back then, no one signed books (which could be true, I guess, but I think it's just that no one signed his because he seemed like a recognizable leopard wearing the same spots, if you catch my drift). I talked to the reunion organizer, who again invited me to visit her in her mountain retreat in some southern state in the middle of the US map. And I talked to a former Francis, who is now "Just Fran," and continues employment as a nurse because she can't decide if the patients need her or she needs them.
No, no one really asked me about me, but they did ask me about a lot of other classmates, some of whom are dead and all of whom weren't at this reunion function, so I didn't have much to add to those conversations.
After about an hour of this, I'd decided it was time to depart when a bouncy woman giggled her way in my direction, looked me up and down, and asked, "Who were you?"
"Uh, last time I looked, I still am, so I'm not sure what you're asking me," I replied, but supplied my "high school" name.
"Oh," she replied, obviously cluelesss. "Did I know you?"
"Nope," I said, and headed for my car.
It took almost exactly 3 hours to make the drive early this morning as the traffic was light and moving very fast. I joined the pack and Nascar-ed it with the rest of the road racers. Arrived in time to stop at my family home to say hello, and then all the "girls" went out for b'fast before I had to get to the park. The girls have grown so much and are all beautiful, talented, polite, and totally competent to take on the world and win: my kind of women! Their mom looks wonderful, no longer wearing the stress, verbal abuse, and depression my mother heaped on her daily for the first 15 years of her marriage to my youngest brother. As a matter of fact, she looks younger, happier, and thinner, too. Rest in peace, Mom.
After sharing a girls' group hug, I drove to the park and found the reunion site, staked out with a half-dozen grey-haired old men and women sitting in the shade. I didn't recognize any of them, not even the one person I thought I would recognize, but I introduced myself, looked at some of the collages about the past 45 years, and watched as the number of attendees swelled to perhaps 50 or so -- none of whom I recognized.
I did find my former neighbor, a rotund, rosy-faced, grey-haired little old lady who was wearing a straw bonnet covered in flowers and ribbons. It was such a cliche and so totally over the top, but it's her life. We talked a bit about the old neighborhood, and I tried to confirm that her brother married one of the girls who lived in the house between hers and mine, but after thinking about it for at least a full minute, if not longer, her only reply was, "Well, if her name was Jan, I think my brother married her." Perhaps not all the fruit is in her basket?
I talked to a nice guy, one of the twins in our class, about his career as an architect, his married children, and his grandchildren, the youngest of whom is 2 weeks old and lives in Prague with his family, the father of which teaches in the International school there. I talked to a blow-hard who claims to be a well-decorated author of numerous computer games, the names of which I recognized because my son is a gamer. He insisted that I sign his 45-year-old yearbook because back then, no one signed books (which could be true, I guess, but I think it's just that no one signed his because he seemed like a recognizable leopard wearing the same spots, if you catch my drift). I talked to the reunion organizer, who again invited me to visit her in her mountain retreat in some southern state in the middle of the US map. And I talked to a former Francis, who is now "Just Fran," and continues employment as a nurse because she can't decide if the patients need her or she needs them.
No, no one really asked me about me, but they did ask me about a lot of other classmates, some of whom are dead and all of whom weren't at this reunion function, so I didn't have much to add to those conversations.
After about an hour of this, I'd decided it was time to depart when a bouncy woman giggled her way in my direction, looked me up and down, and asked, "Who were you?"
"Uh, last time I looked, I still am, so I'm not sure what you're asking me," I replied, but supplied my "high school" name.
"Oh," she replied, obviously cluelesss. "Did I know you?"
"Nope," I said, and headed for my car.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Not a Walk in the Park
I'm one of those people who chooses to ignore that which I don't want to handle because it's easier not to allow it to exist than it is to deal with it. Conversely, if it's something I want to do or believe in, I go so far overboard in accomplishing it that I wear myself and those around me out with the effort.
For the first time in my life, I've had an overwhelming emotional reaction that caught me off guard and opened my eyes to something I absolutely do not want to face: I'm firmly into the "senior citizen" category, a fact confirmed every time I look into a mirror, as well as each and every time my body refuses to respond in a manner I deem appropriate to what I ask of it. As long as I keep busy, I can pretend that not only I, but my life, are the same as they've always been, but that isn't true and I must begin to acknowledge it, even if it's challenging to accept.
The trigger is my 45th high school class reunion, which is this weekend. I've known about it for several months as the persistent organizer and I met while I lived in Texas, and she's been in constant email contact with me for the past decade. She is so caught up in this reunion that she's either had gastric by-pass surgery, a major face-lift, or reverted to her second childhood at the high school stage of it! On the other hand, I doubt that I have ever looked worse, and I'm not anxious to be the one about whom the other senior citizens say, "oh, my, she looks so old and she's gained so much weight."
And they will. Or, perhaps even worse, they won't even remember me as I was one of the invisible students on campus in far too many ways.
As I was driving home from class Thursday, I made the decision not to attend the event as I began crying as I left campus and allowed myself a major bawl-out when I arrived safely in my living room. I cannot remember the last time I sobbed my heart out, but I did an excellent job this time, certainly making up for all the other times I probably should have shed a tear and failed to do so. When the hiccups came, I knew the storm had passed, and when my sister-in-law called to ask what time to expect me Friday, I told her I wasn't going to make the trip and apologized for the inconvenience.
[Aside: she said that was a relief to her as they aren't sure they have taken care of the mold problem I encountered at their home last time I stopped by to spend the weekend and went into instant asthma code red conditions!]
However, yesterday I talked to one of my age-appropriate friends, shared my feelings with her, and talked it out. She already attended her 45th and had a great time, but she is always the life of the party and was very popular in her small-town high school. Although I had friends in high school, I was never well-known and/or popular, and, to tell the truth, don't actually remember much of that time or those people. I worked my ass off all day on a couple of projects I have underway, and listened to loud music as I thought and thought and thought.
For the first time ever, I almost had to hit the panic button when I had the MRI, which has never bothered me in the past. However, I was able to control my reaction by deep breathing and steady, positive confirmation to myself that I could do this. I invited my friend's family over this past week for dessert after we had dinner at a local restaurant and actually enjoyed having them here. They complimented my desert landscaping, both front and back yards, as well as my warm, inviting living room, and enjoyed the brownies with ice cream I served for dessert.
More importantly, I enjoyed having them here and will continue to work to get over the residue from an incident in my past that devastated me and changed me forever from the outgoing, happy-go-lucky person I used to be to the person I am today, much more guarded about the people with whom I share my life, much less my self. There is a guardedness about me that I never needed before, but which I seldom breach, and it's time that I get over it and move on. Sure, I don't know these people, but they also don't know me, so how hard can this be.
Tomorrow morning, Sunday, I'm driving to my home town for the culminating activity of the class reunion, the picnic in the park. Of course, that means I'm also going to have to drive back home tomorrow evening, but I enjoy driving, so that's okay. I will simply be one more senior citizen eating lunch out of a box and trying to pretend that it doesn't matter that I don't remember more than 6 or so of the people I attended school with -- and wouldn't recognize any of them without a name label written in large, bold, black printing. We'll share superficial chatter and family photos, pack up the debris, and go back to our own little corners in the world. No harm/no foul, but I will have taken yet another step forward.
I can get through anything one day at a time.
For the first time in my life, I've had an overwhelming emotional reaction that caught me off guard and opened my eyes to something I absolutely do not want to face: I'm firmly into the "senior citizen" category, a fact confirmed every time I look into a mirror, as well as each and every time my body refuses to respond in a manner I deem appropriate to what I ask of it. As long as I keep busy, I can pretend that not only I, but my life, are the same as they've always been, but that isn't true and I must begin to acknowledge it, even if it's challenging to accept.
The trigger is my 45th high school class reunion, which is this weekend. I've known about it for several months as the persistent organizer and I met while I lived in Texas, and she's been in constant email contact with me for the past decade. She is so caught up in this reunion that she's either had gastric by-pass surgery, a major face-lift, or reverted to her second childhood at the high school stage of it! On the other hand, I doubt that I have ever looked worse, and I'm not anxious to be the one about whom the other senior citizens say, "oh, my, she looks so old and she's gained so much weight."
And they will. Or, perhaps even worse, they won't even remember me as I was one of the invisible students on campus in far too many ways.
As I was driving home from class Thursday, I made the decision not to attend the event as I began crying as I left campus and allowed myself a major bawl-out when I arrived safely in my living room. I cannot remember the last time I sobbed my heart out, but I did an excellent job this time, certainly making up for all the other times I probably should have shed a tear and failed to do so. When the hiccups came, I knew the storm had passed, and when my sister-in-law called to ask what time to expect me Friday, I told her I wasn't going to make the trip and apologized for the inconvenience.
[Aside: she said that was a relief to her as they aren't sure they have taken care of the mold problem I encountered at their home last time I stopped by to spend the weekend and went into instant asthma code red conditions!]
However, yesterday I talked to one of my age-appropriate friends, shared my feelings with her, and talked it out. She already attended her 45th and had a great time, but she is always the life of the party and was very popular in her small-town high school. Although I had friends in high school, I was never well-known and/or popular, and, to tell the truth, don't actually remember much of that time or those people. I worked my ass off all day on a couple of projects I have underway, and listened to loud music as I thought and thought and thought.
For the first time ever, I almost had to hit the panic button when I had the MRI, which has never bothered me in the past. However, I was able to control my reaction by deep breathing and steady, positive confirmation to myself that I could do this. I invited my friend's family over this past week for dessert after we had dinner at a local restaurant and actually enjoyed having them here. They complimented my desert landscaping, both front and back yards, as well as my warm, inviting living room, and enjoyed the brownies with ice cream I served for dessert.
More importantly, I enjoyed having them here and will continue to work to get over the residue from an incident in my past that devastated me and changed me forever from the outgoing, happy-go-lucky person I used to be to the person I am today, much more guarded about the people with whom I share my life, much less my self. There is a guardedness about me that I never needed before, but which I seldom breach, and it's time that I get over it and move on. Sure, I don't know these people, but they also don't know me, so how hard can this be.
Tomorrow morning, Sunday, I'm driving to my home town for the culminating activity of the class reunion, the picnic in the park. Of course, that means I'm also going to have to drive back home tomorrow evening, but I enjoy driving, so that's okay. I will simply be one more senior citizen eating lunch out of a box and trying to pretend that it doesn't matter that I don't remember more than 6 or so of the people I attended school with -- and wouldn't recognize any of them without a name label written in large, bold, black printing. We'll share superficial chatter and family photos, pack up the debris, and go back to our own little corners in the world. No harm/no foul, but I will have taken yet another step forward.
I can get through anything one day at a time.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Doin' the Limbo Rock
How low can you go? Are you sitting down? Holding onto the sides of the chair?
Well, it seems that Sarah Palin's husband was arrested for DUI! That it was 22 years ago is buried way down in the story, so the "headline news" seems totally shocking and worthy of what? Pulling the plug?
That is the goal of the media: to be the one who digs up the dirt that buries a candidate. Imagine being "the one" who torn John Edwards' life out from under him! What a coup. Now, that was noteworthy, especially if Edwards is the father of the child, but hardly rates on the same scale as an unknown's husband being arrested for drunk driving 22 years ago!
Talk about apples and oranges.
So far, it seems that Sarah Palin is an outspoken woman who stands up for what she believes. While she is an unproven, unknown quantity tossed into the international political scene, that could be a future plus, rather than an assumed negative. However, with the mound of dirt uncovered in less than a week, the purpose of which is to see if she has the chops to tell the media to go to hell and stay the course, it can be made to look dirty enough to bury the campaign. She'll be counseled to bow out gracefully, which is, perhaps, the purpose in announcing her selection in the first place: the sacrificial campaign lamb.
If you cannot obfuscate with verbiage, sometimes you have to throw a red herring to take the dogs off the trail.
Sorry, Sarah, that you and your family are caught in the crosshairs, but that's the price of politics.
Well, it seems that Sarah Palin's husband was arrested for DUI! That it was 22 years ago is buried way down in the story, so the "headline news" seems totally shocking and worthy of what? Pulling the plug?
That is the goal of the media: to be the one who digs up the dirt that buries a candidate. Imagine being "the one" who torn John Edwards' life out from under him! What a coup. Now, that was noteworthy, especially if Edwards is the father of the child, but hardly rates on the same scale as an unknown's husband being arrested for drunk driving 22 years ago!
Talk about apples and oranges.
So far, it seems that Sarah Palin is an outspoken woman who stands up for what she believes. While she is an unproven, unknown quantity tossed into the international political scene, that could be a future plus, rather than an assumed negative. However, with the mound of dirt uncovered in less than a week, the purpose of which is to see if she has the chops to tell the media to go to hell and stay the course, it can be made to look dirty enough to bury the campaign. She'll be counseled to bow out gracefully, which is, perhaps, the purpose in announcing her selection in the first place: the sacrificial campaign lamb.
If you cannot obfuscate with verbiage, sometimes you have to throw a red herring to take the dogs off the trail.
Sorry, Sarah, that you and your family are caught in the crosshairs, but that's the price of politics.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Oh, for cryin' out loud!
Either Sarah Palin lied about being pregnant and her 5th child, her son, Trig, is actually her g'son -- or he's really her son.
What? Are we so hard up for challenging a candidate's credentials that we have to resort to this sort of garbage?
So, today, in the midst of that mud-fest, the family discloses that their 17-year-old daughter is pregnant and intends to marry the father of her child. You would have thought that Lot's wife had turned to look at the city and become a salt pillar. After all, Sarah Palin believes in teaching abstinence in the schools, and what does it say about her values when her own daughter becomes pregnant?
Yeah, and your point is what? Do as I say, not as I do -- or do as I do, not as I say?
We can tell teens 24/7 not to become sexually active, but the bottom line is that when they think they are either in love (girls) or in lust (boys), teens are probably going to have sex, regardless of what their parents and/or other adults preach about abstinence. That's both biology and theology because that pesky old Bible we selectively read does urge us to go forth and procreate, and it's pretty darned hard to keep people from doing just exactly that.
Thank you to B. Obama for telling the press that the families are off-limits. He has a couple of girls coming up and no one can say which decision will be made when it's getting hot and heavy on their basement couch: don't do it always sounds better in church on Sunday than it feels on that Saturday night couch!
I want to know about the candidates' stand on political issues. I'm not going to vote for B. Obama because he's black or not vote for him because he's black. Likewise, I'm not sold on voting for a 72-year-old man, regardless of his running mate. I had pretty much convinced myself that an Obama/Clinton ticket could have my Republican vote, depending on McCain's running mate, but that point is moot as Clinton wasn't offered the job and Palin is still an unknown.
I've heard Obama share his global approach to politics without specifics, but embued with lots of wonderful rhetoric aimed at assuring the American people that he's up to the task, whatever it is. McCain is pedantic and plodding, not much there to excite a crowd either for or against. Joe Biden is such a typical good ole boy politico that I wouldn't vote for him just because his type has been in Washington for far too long for all the wrong reasons. I've listened to Sarah Palin and I like what she has to say, although I'll admit that she's a whole lot more liberal about some topics than I, such as drilling in Alaska. However, I agree that if drilling in our own backyard lessens our dependence on foreign oil, that's a route we should vigorously explore, along with the development of alternative energy, mass transit, and fuel efficient vehicles.
I've told family and friends that I may not vote because I cannot select a person, party, or platform that warrants my support. I'm still back at the betrayal by the Republican party when all the viable candidates jumped ship way too early in the process to allow the majority of Republican party members to have a voice in choosing the candidate. That truly pissed me off and has totally soured me on this election.
When a Republican is willing to vote for Obama/Clinton, you know it's going to be an interesting election.
What? Are we so hard up for challenging a candidate's credentials that we have to resort to this sort of garbage?
So, today, in the midst of that mud-fest, the family discloses that their 17-year-old daughter is pregnant and intends to marry the father of her child. You would have thought that Lot's wife had turned to look at the city and become a salt pillar. After all, Sarah Palin believes in teaching abstinence in the schools, and what does it say about her values when her own daughter becomes pregnant?
Yeah, and your point is what? Do as I say, not as I do -- or do as I do, not as I say?
We can tell teens 24/7 not to become sexually active, but the bottom line is that when they think they are either in love (girls) or in lust (boys), teens are probably going to have sex, regardless of what their parents and/or other adults preach about abstinence. That's both biology and theology because that pesky old Bible we selectively read does urge us to go forth and procreate, and it's pretty darned hard to keep people from doing just exactly that.
Thank you to B. Obama for telling the press that the families are off-limits. He has a couple of girls coming up and no one can say which decision will be made when it's getting hot and heavy on their basement couch: don't do it always sounds better in church on Sunday than it feels on that Saturday night couch!
I want to know about the candidates' stand on political issues. I'm not going to vote for B. Obama because he's black or not vote for him because he's black. Likewise, I'm not sold on voting for a 72-year-old man, regardless of his running mate. I had pretty much convinced myself that an Obama/Clinton ticket could have my Republican vote, depending on McCain's running mate, but that point is moot as Clinton wasn't offered the job and Palin is still an unknown.
I've heard Obama share his global approach to politics without specifics, but embued with lots of wonderful rhetoric aimed at assuring the American people that he's up to the task, whatever it is. McCain is pedantic and plodding, not much there to excite a crowd either for or against. Joe Biden is such a typical good ole boy politico that I wouldn't vote for him just because his type has been in Washington for far too long for all the wrong reasons. I've listened to Sarah Palin and I like what she has to say, although I'll admit that she's a whole lot more liberal about some topics than I, such as drilling in Alaska. However, I agree that if drilling in our own backyard lessens our dependence on foreign oil, that's a route we should vigorously explore, along with the development of alternative energy, mass transit, and fuel efficient vehicles.
I've told family and friends that I may not vote because I cannot select a person, party, or platform that warrants my support. I'm still back at the betrayal by the Republican party when all the viable candidates jumped ship way too early in the process to allow the majority of Republican party members to have a voice in choosing the candidate. That truly pissed me off and has totally soured me on this election.
When a Republican is willing to vote for Obama/Clinton, you know it's going to be an interesting election.
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