Smaller Than Life

In a NYT op ed piece, Frank Rich hits the nail on the head, concerning George W. Bush.

WE like our failed presidents to be Shakespearean, or at least large enough to inspire Oscar-worthy performances from magnificent tragedians like Frank Langella. So here, too, George W. Bush has let us down. Even the banality of evil is too grandiose a concept for 43. He is not a memorable villain so much as a sometimes affable second banana whom Josh Brolin and Will Ferrell can nail without breaking a sweat. He’s the reckless Yalie Tom Buchanan, not Gatsby. He is smaller than life. Read the thing in its entirety.

Unfortunately, probably bidden by his obscenely wealthy NeoCon pals, he is still wreaking as much havoc as he can before he exits the national scene entirely. As I've said all along, he is a mean, stupid, dangerous little man. I regret that he is not being tried for his crimes.

I'm b-a-a-a-ck, but ...

... this is kind of how I'm feeling. Maybe I can muster some energy for an anniversary post after a nap.
(Photo is of "the Stupid's Wonderful Dog Kitty" -- my sister's boxador -- labrador/boxer mix. Kitty is adorable, except when she's peed on the floor for the umteenth time. Ah, puppies.)

On the Road Again

Blogging will be slim to none for a few days. Tomorrow Sparkly Seacow and I are taking the train to visit fambly in upstate New York. Back on Friday. Everybody have a safe and happy New Year's eve and day.

If you live anywhere near Decorah, IA you can spend New Year's eve with the one, the only, the fabulous Reptile Palace Orchestra. And tell Mr. Ether to be good.

Be ready for the big blow out celebration when I get back: 2 years of Luminiferous Ether! Woo hoo!!

Happy Boxing Day!

Boxing Day is my third favorite holiday, after Groundhog Day and Hogswatch.

I thought I'd publish a couple of post-Christmas photos. The day after Christmas always feels a little like a hangover.

Here is our dining room table. It was cleared and nice for a scant hour or so yesterday, but Nature clearly abhors a vacuum (nearly as much as I do.) Any dishes that you see are from yesterday morning. Bad.

We really scaled back on gifts, and I especially feel like there simply isn't much I need or want. Mr. Ether and I are going to buy a new camera at some point (or that's what we say.) I prefer to be able to buy yarn or fabric when I'm inspired, or the occasional book. But I did receive 2 gifts of items that I've coveted for a while.

One, this locally handmade knitting needle holder, a gift from Sparkly Seacow.

Two, this sewing book is a gift from our deceased daughter, Sophie, via Mr. Ether. Gifts from Sophie are a tradition, a way of remembering her.


The best gift we gave this year was a new iPod for Sparkly Seacow, after her previous one (which she had saved up for and bought with her own money) was stolen. We chipped in with our daughter Cinderbelle and grandparents, and made Sparkly very happy. She loves her music!

Merry Christmas!

I hope that you are getting together with loved ones, be they family or friends, and that you have a peaceful day. Cinderbelle and "the boys from Brazil" are coming over later this morning to open gifts and soak up a genuine U.S.A.-style Christmas. (Yeah, right.) I'm hoping to get outside to walk, or maybe even to skate or ski, before heading over to the in-laws' for festivities.

I hope the Hogfather* is good to you.

John McCutcheon's Christmas in the Trenches. Prepare to be moved, if you haven't heard it before.



Peace and Love,
Suzy

*Terry Pratchett reference

Socks

Hey, good follow up to "Shoes", eh? Mr. Ether accused me of being a compulsive knitter last night. How dare he? Then I stumbled on this little video on the YouTubes, and it seemed relevant to the discussion.

Shoes

By now, everyone has seen the footage of the Iraqi journalist throwing his shoes at lame duck "President" Bush. Maybe they've even joined one of the solidarity groups on Facebook. I haven't, and this is why. As soon as I saw the video clip, I thought, "Uh-oh. That guy is in trouble." Sure enough, it didn't take long for the reports to trickle out, that he was being severely beaten by his captors, whoever they are. Yesterday the news report came that he was sorry, admitted he was wrong, and asked for a pardon from Maliki. I feel sick to my stomach, imagining under what conditions the admission of guilt came. And he still faces a long prison term. (I guess a trial is not necessary for such a heinous crime.)

Ah, yes. The U.S. brought democracy to Iraq.

Why didn't Bush intervene? He probably gave the directive to crucify the guy, that's why.

There should be international demand to see Muntazer al-Zaidi right now.

Book Review: Quaking

Reading Quaking now seems like ancient history -- I think I finished it last Sunday -- but I intended to write a review of it, so I will. I have a little extra time today since school was canceled because of snow, our second snow day in as many weeks. This one is particularly sweet as it butts up against winter break.

On to the book review! Quaking by Katherine Erskine is a young adult novel, about a 14 year old girl named Matt. Matt has been living under the care of various distant relatives since her abusive father murdered her mother one day while Matt was at grade school. Matt has been shunted from relative to relative, largely, it is implied, because of her poor behavior.

The story opens with her in the car with a woman she calls "Loopy", an evangelical Christian who can no longer care for Matt because she's going on a mission. They are on the way to live with Sam and Jessica, distant cousins in a small town in Pennsylvania, who happen to be Quakers. Loopy tells Matt that they are her "last chance", I guess to stay out of the criminal justice system.

Matt is angry and rebellious. She dresses in black, wears lots of eyeliner, and paints a black widow spider on her face every day. She is determined to alienate everyone around her. She comes to live with Sam and Jessica, who are determined to love her unconditionally as they love their other foster child, a disabled toddler whom Matt calls "the blob." In keeping with the Quaker peace testimony, Sam is actively involved in protesting an ongoing war, taking an unpopular stance in their community.

I wanted to like Quaking. The author has created a likable protagonist, and you'd have to have a heart of stone not to be rooting for Matt. She also got the facts right, as well as capturing many of the nuances of one particular group of U.S. Quakers. I particularly appreciated that she portrayed modern Quakers; so often the only glimpse readers get of Friends is in a historical context -- all bonnets and thees and thous.

I wanted to like Quaking but (and as Pee Wee says, there's always a big but) I didn't, for a few reasons. In an interview with the author about the book, she said that she intentionally didn't identify the war because she wanted to create a timeless sense. However, she did clearly set her story in a post-9/11 world and I found the generic quality of the war to be irritating, to say the least. I believe, to really take a stand against the Iraq war -- as she genuinely seemed to want to do -- it is important to be specific. I mean, even the Bush White House sends out Christmas cards that say "Peace On Earth."

I felt that the Friends she created in Sam and Jessica were reduced to being cartoon Quakers. Sure, they weren't wearing bonnets, but she managed to work in every other Quaker idiom, and I found it tiresome after a while. To a non-Quaker -- especially a teen -- it may serve to underscore the peculiarity of Friends in a nonflattering way.

Then there was Matt. Her past sounded horrific -- abuse, the violent death of her mother, abandonment, lack of stability ... yet, seemingly without any counseling of any sort, just the love of two earnest and well-meaning Quakers in a relatively short period of time, Matt becomes a whole person.

Finally, she managed to incriminate the war, while never once implicating those in power who started this war. The book gave the impression that this (nameless) war just happened, kind of like natural disasters just happen. Acts of God, or whatever. Once again, I feel very strongly that if the author wanted to use it as more than a literary device, she should have been more specific. The war on Iraq was started by individuals and based on lies, I'm sure Erskine's Sam would agree.

Of course, I am an adult (and an opinionated one at that) reading a book written for adolescents. Would I recommend this book to a teen? Yes, I would. It is a compelling story and may open their eyes about a few things. However, I didn't think it was great.

Oy

I've been feeling very depressed these last few days. Mainly about the economy, and specifically unemployment. While I am pleased that unemployment has finally moved onto John and Jane Q. Public's radar screen, it also angers me. Unemployment has been an issue for many for a lot longer than the last few months, and I have to say that since Mr. Ether was laid off, it has always felt like there is a current of blame underlying the sympathy, as if somehow he had done something to bring this on himself. His friends/coworkers from his former job distanced themselves quickly; it might be contagious.

Our families and friends "worry" about him, about us ... while they continue to spend their money at stores with proven anti-labor track records -- and I'll be specific here -- like Whole Foods, Home Depot, WalMart, or Copps. If you're reading this, and you care about Mr. Ether and our family, you won't shop at those places. Period. Otherwise your sympathy doesn't mean a whole heck of a lot.

I am angry, and somehow need to find a way to be at peace. Maybe you can help me, because right now it is eating me up.

Yesterday there was a front page article in our local newspaper about unemployment, encouraging people who have been laid off to "make the job search their full time job" and "network." When there ARE no jobs, or the available employers want someone with a college degree, but they are only offering $10/hr., something is very wrong. This assumption that you only have to try harder is blaming the victim. The dirty secret is that the system has been stacked against workers for a long time. If you were non-white with any kind of a police record, you probably knew that years ago. Now it is coming home to roost in what is left of the white middle class.

Work -- with dignity and a living wage -- for a brief time in U.S. history, was an entitlement. It is time to build strong trade unions again. If you aren't in a union, you can still educate yourself about the businesses you support with your dollars.

Looking for union-made products? Here is a good place to start.

Destroying the unions and creating a large jobless class is a tool the rich use to oppress everyone else. They wage war against the poor, working class, and now the middle class through jobs. I'll leave you with the chorus of another favorite Johnny Clegg song, Work For All.

We need work for all.
We want work for all.
We need work to be.
Give us work for all.
Give us work to be.

College

College seems to be a theme these last couple of days. My friend Anne (Hi, Anne! [waves]) in Boston sent me a link to this op ed piece from the Boston Globe on Sunday:

This week, the National Center for Public Policy and Higher Education, the nonpartisan think tank on state and national education issues, released a scathing report that found that college tuition and fees have skyrocketed in the last quarter century 439 percent, three times the rise in median family income in the same time period.

The rise of college costs surpassed even the 251 percent hike in medical care costs. In the 1999-2000 school year, the cost of four-year public college represented 18 percent of median family income for the middle quintile, 23 percent for the lower-middle quintile, and 39 percent for the lowest income quintile. Those respective figures are now 25 percent, 33 percent, and 55 percent. They account for grants and scholarships. (Read the rest.)

And Crooks and Liars had this post up today, entitled Remember College?

It upsets me that both articles quote experts as saying that, "College is going to become unaffordable." Kind of like how, for the last year, they've been saying, "We might be in danger of heading into a recession." Hello? Hello? Earth to so-called experts ... are you looking around you?

After a year away at college last year (granted, at an out of state school) our daughter is in debt around $25,000. When she was planning to go, we spoke with a financial aid officer at the school about our need -- her dad's frequent periods of being laid off from his construction job, etc. -- and guess what? They didn't give a rat's ass. "I'm sorry, there really isn't anything we can do to help you." Well, for multiple reasons, our daughter decided not to go back to school this year, and frankly, I am relieved. I don't want her to be over $100,000 in debt at the age of 22. Some people act as if she has thrown away an opportunity, but I think if you were to do a cost-benefits analysis I think you might find that the cost far outweighs the benefit at this point. (Particularly because she wasn't happy ... but that's a different issue.)

You might remember that I also went to college last year. I started a program to get a master's degree in Library Science. Each course cost $1,800, and there was really nothing they could do to help me financially either -- even though I have spent 22 years in public service. I applied for grants for older women returning to college, non-traditional students, etc. Nope. So I sucked it up and paid it. Silly me, for that price I thought I might have professors who knew how to teach and respected me as a learner. What planet was I on? I also am taking a break, with no intention of going back to that program.

I keep trying to see the bright side of the collapse of this gilded age we're living in. My hope is that the failure of all of these bloated institutions will create space for alternatives in all areas. Because the people and the needs aren't going to go away.

Remembering

Ed and I have a once-a-year musical gig together, at the local bereaved Parent Support Group's annual Remembrance Service. We play and sing a song by Australian poet Henry Lawson, set to music by folksinger Priscilla Herdman, called The Waterlily. It's a sad and beautiful song, about a mother dreaming of her child who has died.

There have been 15 of these services since our baby Sophie died; we've been to all but one (the year I ended up in the hospital a few years back.) We've been doing this song for perhaps the last 9 or 10 years. It should become easier, but I am finding that in the last couple of years I have had a harder time getting through the song without crying. I suspect it is because there are relatively few times that I devote to simply thinking about her, and this is one of them.

I consider the night of the service to be sacred. Other parents I know have drifted away from it, no longer feeling the need to be there, and that's OK. I suspect Ed might too, if I wasn't so compelled to go. But there is a point in the service where all of the names of the babies are read aloud, and hearing Sophie's name spoken by someone else is a gift.

One mother has made it her project to put together memory quilts, with squares that families have contributed. This is the square I made for Sophie, in the year after she died. The little bunny was drawn by our eldest daughter, who was 5 when her sister died. Our younger daughter came later.
I welcome these moments of remembering.

(Thanks to Barbara H. for taking the picture and emailing it to me.)

Michael Moore on the Auto Industry Bail-Out

Have you read this? If not, you should. He has a knack for cutting through mountains of crap, wielding the machete of common sense. Or something like that. Here's an excerpt, but read the whole thing. It's so simple, yet so brilliant.

You might assume from this that I couldn't give a rat's ass about these miserably inept crapmobile makers down the road in Detroit city. But I do care. I care about the millions whose lives and livelihoods depend on these car companies. I care about the security and defense of this country because the world is running out of oil -- and when it runs out, the calamity and collapse that will take place will make the current recession/depression look like a Tommy Tune musical.

And I care about what happens with the Big 3 because they are more responsible than almost anyone for the destruction of our fragile atmosphere and the daily melting of our polar ice caps.

Congress must save the industrial infrastructure that these companies control and the jobs they create. And it must save the world from the internal combustion engine. This great, vast manufacturing network can redeem itself by building mass transit and electric/hybrid cars, and the kind of transportation we need for the 21st century.

And Congress must do all this by NOT giving GM, Ford and Chrysler the $34 billion they are asking for in "loans" (a few days ago they only wanted $25 billion; that's how stupid they are -- they don't even know how much they really need to make this month's payroll. If you or I tried to get a loan from the bank this way, not only would we be thrown out on our ear, the bank would place us on some sort of credit rating blacklist). (Read it here in its entirety)

Kids ... or Cadillacs?

The Big Three

I'm Changing My School's Name to Chrysler is the title of an essay by Seattle middle school teacher Jesse Hagopian, posted on Common Dreams.

I am going down to Washington, D.C. to ask for a handout.

My industry is falling on hard times and needs at least $34 billion to cover basic operating costs—but I assure you the emergency aid isn't just for me and my associates. The truth is my industry is too big to fail, and if it were to go under it would have disastrous effects for the economy and millions of Americans lives.

No, I am not an automaker executive from one of the Big Three (General Motors, Chrysler, Ford)—I teach social studies to 13-year-olds and the Public Schools are my trade. (read the rest)

Watching the pigs belly up to the trough (with apologies to real pigs everywhere) over the last 6 weeks has been disgustingly predictable ... or predictably disgusting. Where is the help for "Main Street" that everyone was talking about during the election?

Johnny Clegg

DCup mentioned that she hadn't heard Johnny Clegg, which led me on an obsessive YouTube search for the best videos. Of course, that's no more possible than choosing the best seven albums (see previous post.) So here are a few of my favorite songs.

Scatterlings of Africa



Asimbonanga (We saw him perform this one live. It was the absolute BEST concert I ever attended -- I can still say that 19 years later. The moment when the female singer joined in was so ... powerful.)



I Call Your Name



Third World Child




I could have posted 15 videos and honestly said that each one is a favorite song. This music makes my heart pound. If I had to choose just one artist to listen to, it would be Johnny Clegg.

(My kids are even fans. My daughter just mentioned that, whenever she goes to get her hair cut, the stylist always plays Johnny Clegg just for her.)

OK, enough gushing.

Blogger Album Project

DCup is a clearinghouse for all the good memes. I happily jumped onboard this one. And then I didn't post it. And then Quaker Dave did it too. So I was re-inspired.

THE RULES:

1. Post your list of the seven best albums, the seven bloggers you will tag, a copy of these rules ...
2. Each person tagged will put a URL to their Blogger Album Project post along with a list of the seven best albums in the comment section HERE.
3. Feel free to post the “I Contributed to the Blogger Album Project” Award Graphic on your sidebar, along with a link back to this page.
4. Post a link back to the blogger who tagged you.

Seven albums? It's really hard to think of just seven, and then an album that was incredibly important at one time in my life suddenly seems embarrassingly ditzy from where I stand now. (Like the Bobby Sherman album I bought in 6th grade and listened to over and over and over and ...) I think what I am going to do is work backwards chronologically until I've got seven, and hopefully I won't get to anything truly mortifying.

Eliza Gilkyson; Paradise Hotel
The Pretenders; Isle of View
Kirsty MacColl; Kite
Johnny Clegg & Savuka; Cruel, Crazy, Beautiful World
Johnny Clegg & Savuka; Shadow Man
Peter Gabriel; So
John Prine; Bruised Orange

Of course there were others, albums and songs. I love the Beatles, but I could never just choose one Beatles album. When Mr. Ether and I were first going out I listened to Roxy Music's Avalon a lot. I went through a Ladies of the Canyon phase, a Jethro Tull Songs from the Wood phase, a Neil Young Comes A Time phase and a Bruce Springsteen The River phase. For a brief period I lost my heart to Lloyd Cole and the Commotions and Lena Lovitch. In later years I was pretty into Tom Waits' Raindogs and John Prine's Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings. Recently I've been excited by John Gorka and Steve Earle. Townes Van Zandt is a perennial favorite. The Bonzo Dog Band ... and ... and ... (now I'm hyperventilating. I think I'll stop.)

I don't like tagging, so do it if you feel moved to do so.

Road Trip! Part 1

On Saturday night the esteemed bass player Mr. Ether (a.k.a. "Dog Park Guy") had a gig with the Reptile Palace Orchestra at the Mabel Tainter Theater in Menomonie, WI. I had been hearing about this theater for years and jumped at the chance to see it. It was built in the late nineteenth century by a lumber baron as a memorial to his daughter who died. (Interestingly enough -- to me anyway -- he built it at the urging of a local Unitarian minister; I don't tend to think of Unitarians as being active or even existent in the north woods of Wisconsin in the nineteenth century!)

I took the interior photos in the evening while the band was doing their sound check. Mr. Ether took the exterior photos the next morning. While the photos (especially mine) don't really do it justice, you can perhaps get an idea of the opulence of the place. All stained glass, velvet, tassels, and carved wood. It took my breath away.

Looking out across the theater from one of the boxes. Notice the balcony seating too.


This is one of the radiators in the foyer. I had never seen a cylindrical radiator before.


The organ.


One of the boxes.

A stained glass window commemorating Andrew Tainter, the lumber baron.

Some views from the outside.



Thankfully the building survived more than a century of change, including the death of Wisconsin's lumber industry. (You can't sustain the lumber industry when you clear cut virtually all of the trees, strangely enough.) It went through a period of being a Unitarian meeting house and then a public library. The theater was restored in the early nineteen eighties, and now serves as an arts center for the area.

It is said to be haunted. I looked for orbs in my photos, but sadly couldn't see any.

Tagged!

Ho hum. Life is so ... meaningless. That's why I have jumped at the chance to do the meaningless meme, just as DCup knew I would.

1. Five names you go by:
a) Mom (Mommy, Mama ... depending on what they want from me)
b) Ms. Grindrod (my schoolmarm persona)
c) Snoozin' (or sometimes Snoozin' Suzan or Snoozer)
d) Suzy
e) Hey you! Feed me!! (spoken in cat, dog, and guinea pig)

2. Three things you are wearing right now:
a) my favorite Irish cardigan
b) felted green wool slippers (I made them myself)
c) my nuddies (under my clothes)

3. Two things you want very badly at the moment:
a) another 2 days off
b) a good book and bed

4. Three people who will probably fill this out:
a) Enriched Geranium
b) Poodle Doc
c) (insert your name here)

5. Two things you did last night:
a) Went to hear my sweetie's band (Reptile Palace Orchestra) at the beautiful and amazing Mabel Tainter Theater in Menomonie, WI -- about 3 1/2 hours north of here
b) soaked in the bacteria & chemical stew, er, hot tub at the Menomonie Country Inn & Suites

6. Two things you ate today:
a) eggs benedict at the Norske Nook in Osseo, WI
b) roasted, salted cashews from the Menomonie Food Co-op

7. Two people you last talked to on the phone:
a) my older daughter Cinderbelle (true story: She called shortly after we arrived home, while I was trying to put things away. I was talking and walking when -- eeeuwww -- I stepped right in a pile of dog doo outside of our bedroom. I guess Molly didn't get out right away when she needed to.)
b) Sparkly Seacow's friend Violet's stepdad Todd

8. Two things you are going to do tomorrow:
a) go to work
b) meet a friend in the sauna at the Y to conduct some Quaker Meeting business. (Hey, it was her idea!)

9. Two longest car rides:
a) Madison, WI to Keene, NH in my 1967 VW beetle with my dog, my mama cat and her 4 newborn kittens
b) Madison, WI to Salt Lake City with an 8 year old and a toddler

10. Two of your favorite beverages:
a) Yorkshire Gold black tea, brewed strong, with milk and sugar the British way. I drink a cup every morning and afternoon.
b) Mocha Millie, a coffee drink at a neighborhood coffee shop, made with chocolate and malt powder. "Whipped cream on top?" "Yes, please."

And finally, a clip from a favorite movie: Etre et avoir (To Be and To Have). If you have not seen this wonderful French documentary about a teacher in a country school, do yourself a favor and rent it.

Still Moved

These pictures of President-elect Barack Obama, particularly the ones from election night, still move me to tears.

Pico Iyer, in his book The Open Road: the Global Journey of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, says,

"No one at the beginning of 1989 expected that, by year's end, the Cold War would effectively be over, and no one imagined when Mandela emerged from prison, that apartheid would soon be driven out of his country. The Dalai Lama reposes his faith on such surprises -- the sudden result of what has been building invisibly for years -- as if to say, as he put it once, "Until the last moment, anything is possible."

I couldn't help thinking about election night (was it only a month ago?) as I read that passage.

Joe the Who?

Oh yeah, that guy.
I'm just getting around to posting this clever pre-election pumpkin creation.

Happy Thanksgiving!

This is the sunrise that greeted me when I got up at around 6:45 to let the dog out. Soon I will be making winter squash gratin and a broccoli salad to take to my mother-in-law's for dinner.

I also hope to squeeze a good long dog walk in (Molly hopes so too.) I always think it is a drag that we can't get out into the country to walk on Thanksgiving, because it's Huntin' Season™ around here.

Wishing all of you and yours a wonderful holiday.

Going to the Zoo Zoo Zoo

Do you ever have a hankering to ... just hang out with otters? I did today. After reading a book to my students, where there was an otter on one page, I had otters on my mind all day. The weather was sunny and a mild 45˚, so after school I left at my contract time, grabbed my family, and we went to the zoo.

I know that there are people who strongly dislike zoos, and for legitimate reasons. I understand that, and ... I still love to go to our little zoo. It was my stomping ground when I was but a wee lass. We lived a block away from it; I could hear lions roar from my bedroom at night -- I was always scared one would escape -- and the peacocks shrieked all the time. And in that wonderful age when parents set their kids loose and didn't pay attention to where they went, I usually headed to the zoo. Security was amazingly lax in those days; I spent many "after hours" hours there, and had a few harrowing experiences. But I digress.

Our zoo costs nothing to enter; that is actually stipulated in the original charter from when the land was donated to the city. That means that it is no big deal to go even an hour before closing time if, say, someone has a strong urge to see the otters. We spent a lot of time there when our kids were little. There was a blessed period of time when Mr. Ether worked part-time and took care of our youngest, when they went to the zoo often enough to be on intimate terms with the lemurs. But I digress ... again.

We went to the zoo. Sparkly Sea Cow persisted in being as sarcastic as only a twelve-going-on-thirteen-year-old can be -- a far cry from the cute little girl who always wanted to shake keys at lemurs, but I think she had a good time. As we watched the otters in their underwater viewing tank, I felt the tensions of the day (week, month) drain away. I tried to take their picture, but the little buggers wouldn't hold still. They'd swim right up to the glass, run up it, and do a back flip away in a swirl of little bubbles. Again and again. I never get tired of watching them.

What else did we see?

Harbor seals.
Polar bears. The one in the cage looked cute and cuddly, but looking at the size of that one standing up, I was mindful of the fact that children in Churchill, Manitoba do not go trick-or-treating on Halloween. Apparently polar bears do.



Flaming O's.
I didn't get pictures, but we also saw the wallaby, alpacas, camel butts, goats, one wild turkey (who, on the day before Thanksgiving, should have been thanking its lucky star that it lives in the zoo -- and nowhere near Wasilla, AK,) a meerkat, and a red panda.

And Mr. Ether embarrassed Sparkly by having his picture taken, not once, but twice. He looks a little like the soon to be ex-"President", don't you think?

It was fun to do something so spontaneous.

Sigh

My eldest daughter, Cinderbelle, has moved out to an apartment and is in the never-ending (or so it seems) process of cleaning out her room at home so that we can take it over. Tonight she gave me a note that she found, written to me from a friend of mine who tragically committed suicide 2 years ago. It's sad, but also a kind of a sweet "Hello." And I say, "Hello back. I hope you have found some peace."

Food for Thought

I found this article on AlterNet:

Today's global financial cloud got you feeling gray? Vermonter Jim Merkel sees a silver lining.

Back in 1989, the Long Island native was a weapons engineer who helped design a cutting-edge computer that could transmit military secrets, survive a nuclear blast and, a decade before the dawn of the BlackBerry, fit in the palm of his hand. Sitting at a hotel bar in Stockholm, Sweden, he was drinking in his accomplishment when a bulletin flashed on television. (Read the rest here.)

In the article I posted yesterday, someone was quoted as saying "There is no silver lining." There is a disaster mindset that we are in -- that the "experts" and the media are urging us to be in. They want us to scream, "The sky is falling" and hurry to demand bail-outs for our favorite banks and corporations. I quite agree with the gentleman in this article that we are being handed a gift, in a way. A chance to quit our unsustainable ways and find a different way to live. A couple of years ago I was saying that perhaps an economic depression would be a good thing in the long run, forcing a return to different values.

I don't mean to sound glib. DCup has a poignant post about her family's economic struggles, and with Mr. Ether in year 2 of unemployment, we are skating on thin ice ourselves. Yet there is something liberating about "simplifying." (I put that into quotation marks, because "simplification" has become a consumer commodity in and of itself. "How can I simplify if I don't subscribe to Real Simple?" she asks, gnawing on her hemp sweater.)

So yesterday I was despondent. Today I have a measure of hope that we will be OK. And you will too.

Sobering

HuffPo linked to this article from ABC News. It discusses why rising unemployment will lead to a potentially catastrophic situation with health care in the U.S. In short, we are screwed, whether we've been laid off or we have jobs that provide health insurance. The article predicts that soon the American Hospital Association will be in Washington looking to be bailed out.

"There is a huge, looming problem about what to do with people who are unemployed," said Dr. David Nash, dean of the Jefferson School of Health Policy and Population Health in Philadelphia. "The short answer, regretfully, is that there is no good answer for these people."

I have an answer. It seems to me that was has been happening in the arena of health care for so long, with insurance companies getting fat off of the suffering of ordinary people, is analogous to war profiteering. I may be naive, but I say, take them over. Nationalize health care.

I actually resent these further comments from Dr. David Nash.

"As someone who grew up in Germany and lived for some years in Canada and got used to portable, life-cycle health insurance, I have always been amazed that Americans preferred the ephemeral health insurance that comes with the job at a particular firm and is lost with losing that job." Reinhardt said. "Now, the foolishness of that preference is becoming clear to many middle-class Americans who spent their life denigrating 'government' health insurance.

"Frankly, I find it hard to muster much sympathy for people who are waking up only now."

"There is not a silver lining," Nash said. "What's coming home to roost here is the historical accident of having private health care insurance tied to the place of employment. There is no way out if it is tied to the source of where you work."

Thanks, Dr. Nash, for blaming the victims. Middle-class Americans have been duped by a Congress who allowed health care to become a commodity instead of a right.

The only people I hear denigrating "government" health insurance are Republicans and wealthy people.

Americans have been asking for health care reform for years, and we keep getting "solutions" shoved down our throats that benefit the insurance companies. Unlike members of Congress who have what amounts to a socialized health plan (paid for by us, the People,) the average American has been forced to choose between mediocre or downright bad health plans. There has been no meaningful health care reform. I still seethe when I think about the "blue ribbon panel" that Hillary Clinton chaired, on which sat CEOs from several of the major health insurance companies. Oh yeah, they were really going to come up with a plan that benefited us.

We are living in scary times, and I don't know what it is going to take to make the powers that be change their course and do what's right for the people who really make this country run.

Did I Dream This?

I think I coined a new term in my sleep last night: a nog. A news blog. Written by someone who uses their noggin of course.

Hey, it's almost Thanksgiving! Sarah Palin may be out pardoning one lucky turkey, but I have to head to the store and buy me some eggnog.( And Clementine tangerines too.)

The Blogger Album Project

DCup is a clearinghouse for all the good memes. I happily jumped onboard this one. And then I didn't post it. And then Quaker Dave did it too. So I was re-inspired.

THE RULES:

1. Post your list of the seven best albums, the seven bloggers you will tag, a copy of these rules ...
2. Each person tagged will put a URL to their Blogger Album Project post along with a list of the seven best albums in the comment section HERE.
3. Feel free to post the “I Contributed to the Blogger Album Project” Award Graphic on your sidebar, along with a link back to this page.
4. Post a link back to the blogger who tagged you.

Seven albums? It's really hard to think of just seven, and then an album that was incredibly important at one time in my life suddenly seems embarrassingly ditzy from where I stand now. (Like the Bobby Sherman album I bought in 6th grade and listened to over and over and over and ...) I think what I am going to do is work backwards chronologically until I've got seven, and hopefully I won't get to anything truly mortifying.

Eliza Gilkyson; Paradise Hotel
The Pretenders; Isle of View
Kirsty MacColl; Kite
Johnny Clegg & Savuka; Cruel, Crazy, Beautiful World
Johnny Clegg & Savuka; Shadow Man
Peter Gabriel; So
John Prine; Bruised Orange

Of course there were others, albums and songs. I love the Beatles, but I could never just choose one Beatles album. When Mr. Ether and I were first going out I listened to Roxy Music's Avalon a lot. I went through a Ladies of the Canyon phase, a Jethro Tull Songs from the Wood phase, a Neil Young Comes A Time phase and a Bruce Springsteen The River phase. For a brief period I lost my heart to Lloyd Cole and the Commotions and Lena Lovitch. In later years I was pretty into Tom Waits' Raindogs and John Prine's Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings. Recently I've been excited by John Gorka and Steve Earle. Townes Van Zandt is a perennial favorite. The Bonzo Dog Band ... and ... and ... (now I'm hyperventilating. I think I'll stop.)

I don't like tagging, so do it if you feel moved to do so.

One reason why I do not shop at Home Depot ...

I am pleased to say I shop locally at Ace Hardware on Willy Street. It's a little more expensive, but I can find almost anything I need there including clear Contact Paper and Velcro (essential teacher tools) for sale by the yard. They give me mis-cut keys to use for counting (kids love keys), they have a store dog, and the last time I was there one of the owners told me that he went to elementary school where I teach now. Many years ago.

Why would I give my business to Home Depot, especially given this?

This is what Home Depot's founder Bernie Marcus said on a conference call yesterday:

"If a retailer has not gotten involved with this, if he has not spent money on this election, if he has not sent money to Norm Coleman and these other guys," Mr. Marcus said, apparently referring to Republican senators facing tough re-election fights, then those retailers "should be shot; should be thrown out of their goddamn jobs."

It's nice to know Home Depot supports the death penalty for not supporting their politics. The coming EFCA fight is going to be bloody.

Read the whole story here.

Remember, every dollar you spend is a vote.

This explains a lot ...

... like, why I have to have pockets in my clothes.

Humans and kangaroos are close cousins on the evolutionary tree sharing a common ancestor 150 million years ago, according to Australian researchers.

Scientists have mapped the genetic code of the Australian marsupials for the first time and found large chunks of DNA are the same. (Read the rest.)

Cool.

Fun and Games

This game was posted on Facebook by an old high school compadre of mine, and I've adapted it for blogging.

The Book Grab Game
Rules:
* Grab the book nearest you. Right now.
* Turn to page 56.
* Find the fifth sentence.
* Post that sentence in my comments. Post the rules on your own blog, if you wish to continue the fun. Whee!

I'm a little embarrassed to post mine; it came out of a book that my mother-in-law left on our diningroom table, and shall we say, she doesn't always share my taste in books. (She doesn't even like Terry Pratchett. Sheesh!) It sounds vaguely pornographic.

"I catch his eye and realize that his hand has moved on to me."

Molly Love

All this talk about the dog the Obamas are going to get inspires me to say (again) that I am head over heels in love with my dog, Molly. Molly came to us almost a year ago. The plan was, she would live with us for 3 months until our friends could bring her to their new home in New Zealand. During that time our beloved corgi Georgia died, our friends began to question whether the trip and subsequent quarantine would be too hard on Molly, and we fell in love with her.

Molly is 12. I know she isn't going to be with us for many years. But she has convinced me that, as cute as puppies can be, older dogs can be amazingly rewarding.

And finally, live action footage of what we have to put up with every single time we take Molly in the car, courtesy of Cinderbelle. This was last Christmas, shortly after Molly came to live with us:

Obsessing

I am obsessing just a little on the Bill Ayers/ Weather Underground story. It is being discussed a lot since Bill Ayers has broken his silence after the election. It makes me want to read his memoir Fugitive Days and see the Weather Underground documentary.

One reason that it interests me so much, is that this is my childhood history. Madison, Wisconsin -- where I grew up and still live -- was one of the "hotbeds" of anti-war activism, along with Berkley, et al. I lived about a mile off of the university campus and during riots, vestiges of teargas clouds would waft through our neighborhood. My parents, who were a doctor and a nurse, would go down to help patch students up after a meleé.

One of the decisive events that turned the anti-war movement around actually occurred here in 1970: 4 young men who identified with the Weather Underground, detonated a car bomb outside of a university building that housed the controversial Army Math Research Center. Like the WU, they wanted to destroy only the property and thought that by doing it in the middle of the night there would be no people present. Unfortunately, there was a graduate student working in his lab, Robert Fassnacht, a man with a wife and young children, who died in the blast.

Of the 4 men, 3 of them were eventually apprehended and served time in prison. One of them, Leo Burt, has never been caught. He is still on the FBI's "most wanted" list. The oldest of the 4, Karl Armstrong, was identified as the "ringleader." At the time he was arrested, he professed to be largely unrepentant for his act and cited the context of the war on Viet Nam. As you might imagine, this did not sit well with many people, even those sympathetic to the cause. (I have friends who are friends with Fassnacht's widow, and I understand that she has not been able to forgive Armstrong and the others. Karl Armstrong has expressed remorse as time has passed.)

Daily Kos has a post up today discussing Ayers and the tactics of the WU. He also is adamant about looking at the context. While I consider myself to be a pacifist and absolutely do not condone any violence as a means to an end, I understand what he is saying. Karl Armstrong says that he became a revolutionary when his head hit the ground while being beaten by Chicago cops outside the Democratic National Convention in 1968. (My nephew said something similar when, at the age of 17, he was arrested at the WTO/IMF protests in Washington, DC. While he was in custody, a federal marshal told him that he would "mess him up so bad, his mom wouldn't recognize him." Nice.)

In the late sixties there were groups of people in the US who felt that war was being waged against them, and evidence shows that it was not far from the truth. And then consider that many of these people were in their late teens or early twenties ... it's the whole frontal lobe development thing!

I am nearly 50 and a practicing Quaker; as I said before, I do not condone what was done. But I certainly understand it in its context. (Believe it or not, I understand what Timothy McVeigh did, in its context. In fact, I have to condemn violence in all forms, because the actions of a Timothy McVeigh seem to be the logical conclusion of the "destroy property, not people" actions of a group like the Weather Underground.)

One of my all time favorite documentary films is The War At Home. It is about the anti-Viet Nam war movement as it unfolded in my hometown (though it easily could have been made in any number of places.) If any of this interests you, I'm sure that the film is available through Netflix.

Oy, too much thinking for a Sunday morning when I really need to be doing some laundry.

Peace, friends.

I'm Curious ...

What is former HHS secretary, Republican candidate for president, and governor of Wisconsin Tommy Thompson up to these days?

Oh.

Worth Reading

Amy Goodman on Democracy Now! is devoting 2 days to an interview with Bill Ayers and Bernadine Dohrn. Part 1 aired yesterday. Here is the transcript. Part 2 airs on Monday.

Note: This is a far more honest interview than the one on Good Morning America yesterday. Yesterday's interviewer so badly wanted Ayers to say that he was intimate friends with Barack Obama, something that so clearly is not true.

I also want to say that Obama handled the allegations during the campaign gracefully, without throwing Ayers under the bus. I was happy to see that Ayers felt the same way.

Veterans' Day

Peace.

Just for Sarah Palin's information ...

... I blog naked.

In Sarah Palin's interview with Fox News' Greta Van Susteren this evening, she referred to bloggers as "kids in pajamas sitting in the basement of their parents' homes" spewing out mean and inaccurate things about her.

My favorite Pee Wee's Playhouse moment ever was the episode where Pee Wee is having a pajama party. Cowboy Curtis arrives looking nervous, pulls Pee Wee aside, and informs Pee Wee that he doesn't wear pajamas. Jokes like that were why Pee Wee got busted for lewd and lascivious behavior. He was the best thing on Saturday morning TV since Hot Dog.

Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it, Sarah Palin!

Hello, Bonjour

I went to see Michael Franti and Spearhead last night, and they opened with this song. I debated whether I would go up until last week. I kept thinking that, if Obama didn't win, I wouldn't be able to face the anger and despair (which is what I know I would have been feeling.) As it was, it was joyful and energetic.

There were lots of kids in the audience (given that it was a school night and kind of late.) I was impressed when, towards the end Michael not only invited two young boys up on stage, but handed each of them one of his guitars to play. I suspect they will remember that for some time.

Good show. I'm still smiling to think about it.

??????

I am puzzled. Why is the Huffington Post running this advertisement on their homepage?
The Mormon church actively campaigned for the passage of Proposition 8 in California. Does this bother you as much as it bothers me? Let HuffPo know: james@huffingtonpost.com

Life: Getting Back to Normal

You know, it wasn't popular to say so during the election, but I felt like the news media (mainstream, as well as bloggers) shamefully neglected something; namely, the squid and octopus demographic. Recently I have been pleased to see steps being taken to rectify the situation.

Last week, it was the über-adorable piglet squid.
This week the BBC has an article about the common ancestor, still living, of all of the world's deep-sea octopi.And I would just like to say to all of the squid and octopi who might be reading my blog, at that temple in Japan back in 1974? That was my sister who bought the "octopus on a stick", not me. I was a vegetarian. And I don't eat anything with tentacles or suction cups.

Just 'Cause

It's good to watch this video every once in a while.

Pallin' Around With Terrorists

In These Times has an excellent article by Bill Ayers. You can read it here.

Winter? Brrring it on!

It snowed yesterday, and our daughter had her opening night for a production of The Snow Queen. Coincidence? You decide.

According to our daily paper, Wisconsin has designated the coming week as "Winter Awareness Week" and is issuing handy dandy tips such as "re-learn how to drive in slippery conditions." Mr. Ether wonders whether that means going to an empty parking lot and doing donuts (and if a child is in the car, be sure to tell them, "Don't tell mom about this.")

I liked this part of the article:

Just to make you shiver a little early, the Winter Awareness Week folks also point out that Wisconsin's all-time lowest temperature was -55 on Feb. 2 and 4, in 1996 near Couderay, also in Sawyer County.

When our daughter was born on February 3, 1996, her great grandpa -- who kept track of such things -- told us it was the coldest Feb. 3 in Wisconsin history.

I also liked this:

"Readings of -30 or colder have been recorded in every month from November through April," they say. "Of course," they add, "readings in the 50s, 60s and 70s are possible."

Don't we know it! It was in the low seventies earlier in the week. Now it is snowing!

Then there is this:

And this final reminder from the Weather Service: "The only month without a tornado in Wisconsin is February. Be ready."

I love Wisconsin!

Another Day, Another Dollar

I got barfed on at work today. You?

Thoughts before bed ...

I had a moment of misgiving at around 6:00 tonight when the doorbell rang and it was an Obama canvasser, still trying to get out the vote. I expressed surprise, and she said that down at Obama headquarters they had just gotten a call that Wisconsin was going to be very close so every vote counted. Shit! I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Now, of course, we know the real results.

I was just talking to my good friend who stopped by Obama headquarters at about that time and was begged, nay, implored to go canvassing in the neighborhood surrounding the HQ. Her comment? "There were like, 3 Obama signs on every lawn in that neighborhood! What more did they want? Did they think those people hadn't voted??"

I guess that they were leaving nothing to chance, but I wonder if that was a national strategy or just a local decision? I don't think there was ever any question about Obama taking this hotbed of liberal activism!

Barack Obama's speech -- and the manner in which he delivered it -- was stunning. John McCain's speech was delivered with grace and humility.

Sarah Palin and "First Dude" looked pissed off. Mr. Ether and I speculated about whether, in true Sarah Palin fashion, tomorrow she would state unequivocally "John McCain and I, we won yesterday's election."

But I have no further snarky comments. It is a night for graciousness and a return to decency. There's been enough muck in the last 8 years.

Good night.

Liveblogging from ... ah jeez, this is pretty cool!

We're watching election coverage. Surprised?

It appears that FauxNews has given up on election reporting and is rerunning Everybody Loves Raymond episodes.

On PBS the usual talking heads are pontificating. Cokie Roberts just gushed, "I just love a man in uniform." No, sorry. That was back in '03 when she was a cheerleader for the illegal invasion of Iraq. Yuck.

David Brooks was talking about "the old South" vs. "the new South", and the influx of Latinos as well as other people more likely to vote for the Democratic candidates. It occurs to me that one of the reasons for that influx is because the Republicans in power have so screwed over the workers in the industrial North (not to mention the faux-Democrats like Bill Clinton with his support of NAFTA) that there has been something of a migration South. I haven't heard anybody talk about this, so it might be completely harebrained. But isn't it interesting that the Republicans, in trying to rape working class America, actually may have shot themselves in the foot?

Election 2008

This just in! OK, not really. Just a few scenes and vignettes from my experience on election day, 2008.

Like a million zillion schools across the country, my school conducted a mock election among the students today. The ballots were distributed in the morning by 4th graders. As a voter, I was pleased to see that they had all the presidential candidates listed. As a kindergarten teacher I thought, "How the hell am I going to explain this to 5 and 6 year olds?"

First we had a talk about the office of president. "What does a president do?" I asked. "They run," answered a child.

As it turned out, they had a lot to say about the election. I have a lot of children of immigrants in my class, and I do not know which ones' parents are citizens. But they spoke up, and they all knew Barack Obama's name.

On to the voting. I showed them the ballots. I talked about how many people were on the ballot for president, but it was most likely that either Obama or McCain would be the next president. I said, "See the B? B for B-B-B-Barack. Make a check in that box if you want to vote for Barack Obama. See the J? J for J-J-J-John McCain. Make a check in that box if you want to vote for John McCain. Then we'll have snack." I confess I took a quick peek as they gave them back to me. (And the kids who voted for Obama got big thick chocolatey Hershey bars, while the McCain voters got a handful of dry Cheerios. Just kidding!) It leaned heavily toward Obama (12 - 2) and I was tickled no end to see that one child had voted for Cynthia McKinney. That child must be a maaaaverick. Or else she was totally confused and checked any old box.

At the end of the day when the results were tallied, Emerson school voted 256 - 17 for Obama. (With 3 votes for 3rd party candidate, reliable sources tell me.) Jeez, I teared up when the results were announced! If this is how a mock election affects me, how will I feel tomorrow if the results are favorable?

I left school right away to go vote myself. My polling place is at the high school down the street. I love voting there; it's one reason I chose not to vote early. I see my neighbors, and some of the same people have worked that polling place for at least the 16 years I've voted there. I was on autopilot when I got up to the table to sign in for my ballot. "Ed vote yet?" says the poll worker. "Huh?!" I look up for the first time; oh, it's my neighbor Carol, the smokin', drinkin', cursin' nun who cruises around in her red Jeep. "Sorry," I say. "I didn't pay attention to who you were! I'm just so focused on voting."

No hitches to voting. I marked my ballot, checked it over about 5 times, said a little prayer and fed it into the optical scanner. On the way out, I passed an extremely elderly-looking woman coming in. "Is this where we vote?" she asked. (They moved it to a bigger room than usual to accommodate more voters.) She looked somewhat confused, so I stood and watched her go in to make sure she was alright. Just outside the door she stopped, pulled a comb out of her purse, and combed her hair! I was touched. We've gotten so used to casual -- just the way that we got used to apathy until this election -- that it is hard to remember another time when election day was a BIG DEAL and you dressed up for it. Clearly she remembered.

As I was leaving I passed a young man coming in to vote: Steven, one of my former first grade students, voting in his first presidential election! That was so cool!

So now it's just sit back and wait. If things are looking good, I'm thinking of heading downtown to see if there will be dancing in the streets. (I'm still burned up over the fact that I was out of the country when Nixon resigned in '74, and I missed the celebration.)

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The Long Arm of the Law

I wrote in my Halloween post about being pulled over for failing to have up to date registration stickers on my car. Being the law abiding citizen that I am, I went home and looked for the registration sticker. I was so proud of myself when I actually found my '08 sticker and put it on my car. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that I had stayed out of Gitmo for one more day, when Mr. Ether -- helpful Mr. Ether -- pointed out that I needed the '09 sticker. I have no idea where it is, and I suspect I may have accidentally thrown it out in a fit of clearing away clutter. So I've actually been driving around illegally for the last year and a half. Gosh, I hope no Republican poll observers use that to try to prevent me from voting tomorrow!

The state DMV makes it quite easy to get a replacement sticker with just an automated phone call, and it looks like they may not even charge for it. So I'm good, but my family had a little laugh at my expense. Again.

A Message from Palin (Michael) for President

The somewhat important 2008 election is upon us.

Silly though we may usually be, we at the Committee
to Elect Michael Palin President would like to take
a moment to say, in all seriousness...

VOTE!

Vote like the wind!

Vote like you've never voted before!

Vote like your life depends on it! (It may)

Vote like the ice caps are melting! (They are)

Vote like if you don't then the Spanish Inquisition
will fry you up and toss you into a Spanish Omelet!

Vote like a crazed weasel with its head on fire that
has to vote in order for someone to dunk its head in
a bucket of water, thus dousing the fire and eliciting
a collective sigh of relief from every other potentially
flammable weasel, stoat or ocelot in the vicinity.

VOTE, YOU MISERABLE BASTARD, AS IF BY DOING SO YOU
CAN KEEP AN OIL-DRILLING, WOLF-KILLING, IGNORANT
ALASKAN MOOSE-MUNCHER FROM EVER GETTING HER IGNORANT,
WELL-MANICURED FINGER ANYWHERE NEAR THE BIG RED
ARMAGEDDON BUTTON! (You can)

Ahem.

We believe we've made our point.

*****************************************************
And now back to our regularly-scheduled silliness...
*****************************************************

SPLUNGE!


Until next time...

Your friends at the Temporarily Serious
Though Usually Quite Silly Party


P.S. If you're not a U.S. citizen, please feel free
to close your eyes and vote metaphysically.

Curiosity Did Not Kill This Cat

R.I.P. Studs Terkel. You will be missed.