Brett Westcott and Cameron Brown, from Purdue University are “The Compliment Guys”. They spend each Wednesday afternoon giving out compliments and words of encouragement to passersby on the Indiana campus. It’s not a gimmick nor a marketing ploy nor a proselytizing technique. It’s just a series of not so random acts of kindness by a couple of outgoing college guys with their hearts in the right place. You can read Brett’s essay here and watch a brief video here of the Brett and Cameron in action.
So, how shall we keep this moving in the universe? A kind word, a compliment or a cheerful good wish given to folks we come in contact with throughout the day? Sounds good to me!
Thanks for stopping by and reading this post!
;o)
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Idiots
Dan Kennedy of Media Nation and Northeastern University, has an excellent piece in The Guardian this week. Using Charlie Pierce’s book “Idiot America” as a framework, Kennedy takes on “The Birthers” - the idiots who refuse to believe that President Obama was born in Hawaii. Supreme Court Justice Louis D. Brandeis (1856-1941) wrote: “Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants.” This fight requires more than just sunlight. Kennedy and Pierce make the case that we need to speak the truth clearly and repeatedly to those who spread lies loudly and vociferously.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Age
There are moments when the experiences, the health problems, the stubbornness, the worries, the confusion and the fears of our ERs (Elderly Relatives) can really get to me. I think I cope pretty well day in and day out with whatever comes up. But it’s those middle of the night can’t get back to sleep moments, when I start to worry that someday I am going to wake up and be just like them. By “just like them” I am referring only to the troubling parts. I never wake up in the middle of the night and think “Gee, one of these days I am going to wake up and be just as open hearted, open minded and full of life as my octogenarian friend Marion!” Plus, it usually takes Chuck to remind me that I am not really like any of these ERs to begin with. I am, in fact, just like me. Nor will I wake up one day and suddenly be old. Every day I will simply be one day older than the day before. And what really matters is the age in my soul.
With all that in mind, I bring you this quote:
“Age only matters when one is aging.
Now that I have arrived at a great age,
I might just as well be twenty.”
- Pablo Picasso (1881 - 1973)
With all that in mind, I bring you this quote:
“Age only matters when one is aging.
Now that I have arrived at a great age,
I might just as well be twenty.”
- Pablo Picasso (1881 - 1973)
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Robusto
You know I like cheese, right? While chocolate is a legitimate and venerable food group, when I crave, I crave savory. Cheese falls under the savory category, even when I serve it with fruit. Ironically, while pizza is near the tippy-top of my favorite foods list (vegetables, crust, spicy meat all in one), I prefer it to be “light on the cheese”. Too much cheese, especially a near-ersatz mozzarella, can dull the palate and drown out the complexity that is, after all, pizza.
Anyhoo, what I wanted to mention was a cheese we have recently tried and are enjoying. It’s called Robusto. We’ve been buying it from Whole Foods, where they have a very nice cheese section. To me, Robusto tastes like a combination of a nutty Swiss and kicky Parmesan. It’s a Dutch cheese, from the Gouda family, with a firm, smooth texture.
By the way, Trader Joe’s is once again stocking their Mini-Toasts “crackers” from Holland. (We weren’t the kiss of death after all!) They are eensy-weensy, very crispy pieces of toast, shaped like a slice from a loaf of sandwich bread. They are quite mild in taste so they provide crunch, texture and a platform for any cheese.
Anyhoo, what I wanted to mention was a cheese we have recently tried and are enjoying. It’s called Robusto. We’ve been buying it from Whole Foods, where they have a very nice cheese section. To me, Robusto tastes like a combination of a nutty Swiss and kicky Parmesan. It’s a Dutch cheese, from the Gouda family, with a firm, smooth texture.
By the way, Trader Joe’s is once again stocking their Mini-Toasts “crackers” from Holland. (We weren’t the kiss of death after all!) They are eensy-weensy, very crispy pieces of toast, shaped like a slice from a loaf of sandwich bread. They are quite mild in taste so they provide crunch, texture and a platform for any cheese.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Dream Travel
If you had an unlimited budget and a miraculously zero impact carbon footprint, where would you go? O.K. and you can teleport a la Star Trek so there’s no annoying airplane travel nor miserable jet lag. It’s sort of the travel equivalent of a Genie in a bottle with a fistful of wishes.
Me? I have to go first? Is there a limit on the number of locations? Oh, right. I’m making up the rules as I go along!
O.K. First, I’d go back to Bermuda. Chuck and I went there on our honeymoon and it was lovely. Unfortunately, our cottage colony no longer exists, but there are lots of other great options.
Next, Paris, France. Ironically what makes me want to visit are all the episodes of House Hunters International where folks are searching the various arrondissements for the perfect Parisian flat. I hear the food’s pretty good too!
Next stop, Iceland. Specifically I want to visit their hot springs. We enjoyed the hot springs in Banff, Alberta, Canada and the ones in Iceland look spectacular. Actually, thinking about Banff, I’d definitely go back to the Post Hotel at Lake Louise. It was delightfully decadent, yet down to earth. And we’d stop for a pie at Aardvark Pizza in Banff first!
O.K., now closer to home: Washington, D.C. I haven’t been since I was a kid and I’d do the whole touristy tour of every monument, museum and landmark I could find. It would take a long time but it would be so worth it. By the way, I’m probably teleporting home every day or two so I can sleep in my own bed, ‘cuz I’m kind of a lousy traveler!
I’ll stop there - for now!
Where would you head off to in this ideal travel scenario?
Me? I have to go first? Is there a limit on the number of locations? Oh, right. I’m making up the rules as I go along!
O.K. First, I’d go back to Bermuda. Chuck and I went there on our honeymoon and it was lovely. Unfortunately, our cottage colony no longer exists, but there are lots of other great options.
Next, Paris, France. Ironically what makes me want to visit are all the episodes of House Hunters International where folks are searching the various arrondissements for the perfect Parisian flat. I hear the food’s pretty good too!
Next stop, Iceland. Specifically I want to visit their hot springs. We enjoyed the hot springs in Banff, Alberta, Canada and the ones in Iceland look spectacular. Actually, thinking about Banff, I’d definitely go back to the Post Hotel at Lake Louise. It was delightfully decadent, yet down to earth. And we’d stop for a pie at Aardvark Pizza in Banff first!
O.K., now closer to home: Washington, D.C. I haven’t been since I was a kid and I’d do the whole touristy tour of every monument, museum and landmark I could find. It would take a long time but it would be so worth it. By the way, I’m probably teleporting home every day or two so I can sleep in my own bed, ‘cuz I’m kind of a lousy traveler!
I’ll stop there - for now!
Where would you head off to in this ideal travel scenario?
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Well Deserved
Jim Rice, 56, and Rickey Henderson, 50, were both inducted today into the National Baseball Hall of Fame at Cooperstown, New York. Both men were veterans of the Boston Red Sox, Rice having spent his entire career there. Both come across as good guys, were great players and are deserving of this honor. Congratulations to them both!
Stand Down
Saturday, July 25, 2009
My World
: : I’m tired of the humidity. This is a problem because I live in Southern New England where hazy, hot and humid are known as the “Three H’s”. If it has a nickname, you know it is as common as dirt.
: : When the weather gets like this we do run the small air conditioner in the bedroom. The lure of cool and dry air is so tantalizing that I will figure out a way to make almost any task, short of food preparation and washing clothes, portable enough to be moved to that blessed room.
: : Speaking of food preparation, pouches of cooked brown rice from Trader Joe’s are saving my life this summer. I have made many variations on my Quick & Easy Rice Salad. The last one I made I added chicken to it for a complete one dish meal - with very little heat needed from the stovetop or even the microwave.
: : I’m on very close terms with the two fans we have on tall stands (one upstairs, one downstairs). It could be that all the moisture in the air is causing my brain to get moldy, but I think I heard the downstairs fan humming “Me and My Shadow” today.
: : And if I get to the point where I feel downright downtrodden and beleaguered by the “Three H’s”, I take the laptop to - wait for it - the bedroom. I sit in front of the fan, which is front of the A.C. and watch the video of Jill and Kevin’s wedding processional. And for well more than five minutes and nine seconds I feel much, much better.
: : When the weather gets like this we do run the small air conditioner in the bedroom. The lure of cool and dry air is so tantalizing that I will figure out a way to make almost any task, short of food preparation and washing clothes, portable enough to be moved to that blessed room.
: : Speaking of food preparation, pouches of cooked brown rice from Trader Joe’s are saving my life this summer. I have made many variations on my Quick & Easy Rice Salad. The last one I made I added chicken to it for a complete one dish meal - with very little heat needed from the stovetop or even the microwave.
: : I’m on very close terms with the two fans we have on tall stands (one upstairs, one downstairs). It could be that all the moisture in the air is causing my brain to get moldy, but I think I heard the downstairs fan humming “Me and My Shadow” today.
: : And if I get to the point where I feel downright downtrodden and beleaguered by the “Three H’s”, I take the laptop to - wait for it - the bedroom. I sit in front of the fan, which is front of the A.C. and watch the video of Jill and Kevin’s wedding processional. And for well more than five minutes and nine seconds I feel much, much better.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
May It Ever Be So
“May the saddest day of your future
be no worse than the happiest day of your past.”
- An Irish Blessing
be no worse than the happiest day of your past.”
- An Irish Blessing
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Better Late Than Never
I’m lucky to have regular readers from all over the world, so in order not to be cruel to them, I’ll try to keep this brief. It won’t be easy! Tonight Chuck and I finally had a pizza from The Corner Grille at 806 Pleasant Street in Worcester. (Music plays when you click the link.) It was unlike any pizza I have ever had. But it reminded Chuck of the essence of pizza from a place his family went to in greater St. Louis, Missouri. The Corner Grille is in a bijou storefront replete with twin bow windows, a touch of stained glass and tin ceilings. Large chalkboards display the creative, yet simple menu. The whole place is charming without tipping over into kitschy.
Decor and atmosphere aside, the pizza was fabulous. Despite the mouthwatering list of unusual pizzas, we chose to build our own. We thought by ordering something close to our “usual” pizza we would best be able to compare and contrast. We ordered sliced tomatoes, green peppers, mushrooms and sausage. The pizza arrived square and paper thin - literally, not figuratively. I held a piece up to the light and could see the toppings through it! There was a narrow, delicate char around the edges and the toppings were scattered equally, yet lightly around the surface. In an era where chain restaurants are competing for business based on how many pounds their servings weigh, the Corner Grille shows restraint. They have found the perfect intersection where taste meets “less is more” and something spectacular is achieved. Each bite had us savoring the flavors, especially the frequent micro-bursts of basil. I don’t know if it is prominent in the red sauce or tossed on under the cheese, but it adds a wonderfully fresh note.
The Corner Grille also serves a wide variety of interesting salads, soups, sandwich wraps and baked sweet treats. We may be eleven years late to the party, but we won’t be strangers now!
Decor and atmosphere aside, the pizza was fabulous. Despite the mouthwatering list of unusual pizzas, we chose to build our own. We thought by ordering something close to our “usual” pizza we would best be able to compare and contrast. We ordered sliced tomatoes, green peppers, mushrooms and sausage. The pizza arrived square and paper thin - literally, not figuratively. I held a piece up to the light and could see the toppings through it! There was a narrow, delicate char around the edges and the toppings were scattered equally, yet lightly around the surface. In an era where chain restaurants are competing for business based on how many pounds their servings weigh, the Corner Grille shows restraint. They have found the perfect intersection where taste meets “less is more” and something spectacular is achieved. Each bite had us savoring the flavors, especially the frequent micro-bursts of basil. I don’t know if it is prominent in the red sauce or tossed on under the cheese, but it adds a wonderfully fresh note.
The Corner Grille also serves a wide variety of interesting salads, soups, sandwich wraps and baked sweet treats. We may be eleven years late to the party, but we won’t be strangers now!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Good & Honorable
Three weeks ago I posted about Bernard Madoff when he was sentenced to 150 years for his dreadful Ponzi scheme. Today I want to introduce you to Robert I. Lappin age 87, of Swampscott, Massachusetts. Mr. Lappin is the polar opposite of Bernie Madoff. Mr. Lappin is a mensch. Robert Lappin lost approximately 90% of his personal wealth to Madoff’s thievery. Unfortunately, his eponymous charitable foundation was also invested with Madoff, as were his employees 401(k) retirement plans. Now Mr. Lappin, with the blessing of his family, is donating five million dollars to restore his employees retirement accounts. That five million represents more than half of his net worth, post Madoff’s depredations.
Mr. Lappin’s honorable and generous choice reminds me of another Massachusetts mensch named Aaron Feuerstein. Back in 1995, Mr. Feuerstein was the CEO of Malden Mills which was known for its “Polartec” polar fleece fabric. The mill burned down and Mr. Feuerstein continued to pay thousands of employees their regular salaries, plus benefits, while the mill was rebuilt in the same location.
All three men; Madoff, Lappin and Feuerstein are Jewish. Madoff used his heritage and his religion as a tool, a passport if you will, to target fellow Jews in an Affinity scheme designed to lure investors into his elaborate Ponzi scheme. Mr. Lappin and Mr. Feuerstein also relied on their heritage and their religion, as well as the Torah and the Talmud to inform their honorable and moral decisions.
Mr. Lappin’s honorable and generous choice reminds me of another Massachusetts mensch named Aaron Feuerstein. Back in 1995, Mr. Feuerstein was the CEO of Malden Mills which was known for its “Polartec” polar fleece fabric. The mill burned down and Mr. Feuerstein continued to pay thousands of employees their regular salaries, plus benefits, while the mill was rebuilt in the same location.
All three men; Madoff, Lappin and Feuerstein are Jewish. Madoff used his heritage and his religion as a tool, a passport if you will, to target fellow Jews in an Affinity scheme designed to lure investors into his elaborate Ponzi scheme. Mr. Lappin and Mr. Feuerstein also relied on their heritage and their religion, as well as the Torah and the Talmud to inform their honorable and moral decisions.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
A Hot Time
The thunderstorms were rough last night and the rain continued into the morning. But as noon approached, we found the skies clearing, the sun burning through, the temperature rising into the mid 80s F (30 C) and the humidity remaining fierce. By the time we arrived at Goddard Memorial State Park in Warwick, Rhode Island, there was a more than welcome steady breeze. J.R. had erected a tent and its shade, as well as spots beneath the nearby trees, were very popular attractions! Naturally, the best part of the day was being with family. But a personal highlight was every time I was able to plunge my hand into the bucket of ice water to fish out another can of seltzer! It was heavenly!
By the way, Fiona asked about my triple chocolate brownies. They are a total cheat. I buy the Betty Crocker Original Supreme Brownie Mix, which comes with a pouch of Hershey’s Syrup. (That’s one.) I follow the package directions, but I add two tablespoons of the best cocoa powder I have in the house, like Scharffen Berger. (That’s two.) After all the ingredients are combined, I add a half a bag of Nestle’s Mini Chocolate Chips. (That’s three.) I bake according to the package directions but usually leave them in longer than suggested. Even with the extra time they come out incredibly rich and fudge-y, so I cut them into tiny bite size pieces and place each square into a mini muffin paper. There you have it. The secret is revealed.
Friday, July 17, 2009
If You Can’t Stand The Heat...
Today was hot and humid followed by thunderstorms. Not my best timing, but I needed to bake my triple chocolate brownies. We have another family wing-ding tomorrow. This one is being hosted by my nephew J.R. and his wife Lorrie. A few months ago, a friend of theirs passed away. As they greeted and reminisced with old friends at the wake, they decided to provide an opportunity for everyone in their lives to all come together, under happier circumstances, at a huge picnic. So rain or shine we’re headed to Rhode Island tomorrow. Fingers crossed the thunderstorms pass early in the day. And as long as I’m hoping, I’d love a cool, dry, breezy day! Greedy? Why yes I am!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Liberation
Remember the daylily from Carrie and Al’s home? It was the one I posted because I had neglected to take a photo of the ones I had freed from their rains of June induced jungle. Well, this is one of the liberated lilies. It lives on the far side of the driveway and makes us smile when we stand at the kitchen sink and look through the window to see it bobbing against the lush green chaos behind it.
In other news...
The “asked and answered” game continued today in Washington D.C. What was new? Perry Mason. I’ll admit, I was grateful for the lighter note. But there’s gotta be a better way to make sausages - er - confirm a new justice for the SCOTUS!
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Asked & Answered
I’m bleary eyed with exhaustion (not enough sleep last night and zoomed off in too many directions today). But I did catch some of the Senate Confirmation Hearings for Judge Sonia Sotomayor. I will simply repeat my Tweet from this morning:
Re: Sen. Jeff Sessions' (R-AL) questioning - Too bad the objection of "Asked & Answered" isn't available in a Senate Hearing!
I get that the Republicans have decided to be the party of “No”. I get that they feel the need to harp on the phrase “wise Latina”. But Lord love a duck, they began to sound like the annoying younger sibling who repeats everything you say, just to make you crazy! And, in keeping with Newton’s Third Law (for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction), the Democrats had to swing all the way over to fawning, just to get across the idea that she would not be a crazed, bigoted, liberal, activist justice! Throughout it all, Judge Sotomayor remained unruffled and gave new meaning to the word unflappable.
At least no one is talking about Coca Cola cans...
Laws and sausages, laws and sausages - and senate confirmation hearings - Sheesh!
Goodnight...
Re: Sen. Jeff Sessions' (R-AL) questioning - Too bad the objection of "Asked & Answered" isn't available in a Senate Hearing!
I get that the Republicans have decided to be the party of “No”. I get that they feel the need to harp on the phrase “wise Latina”. But Lord love a duck, they began to sound like the annoying younger sibling who repeats everything you say, just to make you crazy! And, in keeping with Newton’s Third Law (for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction), the Democrats had to swing all the way over to fawning, just to get across the idea that she would not be a crazed, bigoted, liberal, activist justice! Throughout it all, Judge Sotomayor remained unruffled and gave new meaning to the word unflappable.
At least no one is talking about Coca Cola cans...
Laws and sausages, laws and sausages - and senate confirmation hearings - Sheesh!
Goodnight...
Monday, July 13, 2009
Hello, Thank You & Goodbye
It is difficult for me to grasp the life cycle of a Lune Moth (Actias luna).
They are startlingly large, yet delicate creatures. (A Luna’s wingspan can be 3 - 4.5 in (8 – 11.5 cm). The clapboards it is resting on in the photo above are standard width.) We see them only in the summer months, almost exclusively at night. We have an old outdoor floodlight above the main door of our barn. Whenever we have it on, it attracts a great deal of activity. Tonight, a Luna came to visit. The photo above was the only one which was clear enough to post. Trying to zoom in on the Luna, fighting the glare of the floodlight, while staying far enough away not to disturb the beautiful moth was a challenge. But learning more about the Luna moth, puts my photography challenge into perspective. They emerge from cocoons only to mate. They do not eat or even have mouths. They live just one week. Being 51 years old, it is almost too much for me to comprehend. And I can’t help but wonder which day it is of this Luna’s seven.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Something Sunny
The gal at the farmers’ market called them “Sundrops”, but the name appears to be just the first clue. Sundrops are part of the Onagraceae family and the genus Oenothera. Another common name for them is “Evening Primrose”. However, with well more than 100 species about, I can’t tell you any more specifics. But I will pass on what the plant seller told me: “They’ll grow in almost every possible condition.” Sounded good to me and so far so good!
A Wild Deal
Attention all Worcesterites!
Wild Willy’s Burgers at 317 West Boylston Street, is running a super summer special. Beginning this Tuesday night, July 14th and every Tuesday evening through the end of August, if you buy one burger, chicken or bison sandwich, between 5:00 p.m. until 8:00 p.m., you get a second one free - a BOGO! Considering how yummy the burgers are at Willy’s that is one heck of a deal. And, if that isn’t interesting enough, they’re also offering a number of gluten free items on their menu, including gluten free buns cradling their scrumptious burgers.
See you Tuesday nights at Willy’s...
: : Update: Just to let you know, the BOGO doesn’t work on TOGO - that’s to go orders. So pull up a chair and enjoy your burgers in-house!
Wild Willy’s Burgers at 317 West Boylston Street, is running a super summer special. Beginning this Tuesday night, July 14th and every Tuesday evening through the end of August, if you buy one burger, chicken or bison sandwich, between 5:00 p.m. until 8:00 p.m., you get a second one free - a BOGO! Considering how yummy the burgers are at Willy’s that is one heck of a deal. And, if that isn’t interesting enough, they’re also offering a number of gluten free items on their menu, including gluten free buns cradling their scrumptious burgers.
See you Tuesday nights at Willy’s...
: : Update: Just to let you know, the BOGO doesn’t work on TOGO - that’s to go orders. So pull up a chair and enjoy your burgers in-house!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
One of the Shadier Streets in D.C.
“The Family” is a Christian organization founded in 1935. “C Street” refers to a house owned by a branch of The Family. It is located on C Street in Washington, D.C. Several members of the United States Congress live there. C Street was raised by Governor Mark Sanford (R-SC), during his recent admission that he had not been hiking the Appalachian Trail, but had in fact been down in Argentina with his mistress. Then C Street emerged again as the financial ripples from Senator John Ensign’s (R-NV) affair with his mistress continued to unfold.
Last night, Rachel Maddow interviewed Jeff Sharlet for the second night in a row. Sharlet is the author of “The Family: The Secret Fundamentalism at the Heart of American Power”. Rachel’s summary of what we have recently learned about The Family, their intense focus on power and the house on C Street is fascinating, troubling and worthy of further investigation.
: : Update: Jeff, over at WormTown Taxi has dug deeper and found additional complex connections between Washington insiders and “The Family”.
Last night, Rachel Maddow interviewed Jeff Sharlet for the second night in a row. Sharlet is the author of “The Family: The Secret Fundamentalism at the Heart of American Power”. Rachel’s summary of what we have recently learned about The Family, their intense focus on power and the house on C Street is fascinating, troubling and worthy of further investigation.
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
: : Update: Jeff, over at WormTown Taxi has dug deeper and found additional complex connections between Washington insiders and “The Family”.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Lost and Found
I watched a movie recently called “I Know Where I’m Going!” (1945). It was quite wonderful; charming, quirky, non-linear and both of and ahead of its time. The film was set in a remote island area to the west of Glasgow, Scotland. Throughout the movie, a number of characters spoke Scottish Gaelic. As I listened, I couldn’t help but wonder if the ancestors on my father’s side had spoken Scottish Gaelic when they lived in and around Glasgow. My paternal great grandparents, James and Mary, were born in the middle of the 19th century in Scotland. Their two eldest children were born there as well. The youngest four, including my grandfather Alexander, were born in Rhode Island in the late 1800s.
Great grandparents James and Mary passed before I was born. Several of their children, my great aunts and uncles, were alive for many years after my birth. But I never met any of them. From what I can piece together, there was a falling out; a rift developed between my grandfather Alexander and the rest of his family. My mother thinks it had something to do with Alexander’s family disapproving of his choice of bride, my grandmother Catherine. However the rift began, it was never, ever healed.
Sometimes, a later generation can reach across the gulf and find a way to let the disagreements of their parents lie in the past. That happened in Chuck’s family. Siblings at his father’s generation lived with a rift for many years. Then Chuck wrote a letter to his cousins from whom he had been estranged and a door opened. Sadly, this never happened between my family and my paternal grandparent’s family. Which is how I came to wonder the other day about how many things I missed out on. What could my great aunts and uncles John, James, Mary, Lizzie and Madeline Rose have taught me? Would they have loved me? Would my toddler smile have melted their hearts as it did my grandfather Alexander’s? Would they have shared recipes, traditions, family stories and history with me? And would any of the Scottish Gaelic they may have spoken been passed on to me?
I love the private languages of families. It can be the expressions they use which set them apart from their neighbors, just as it ties them strongly to generations past. Or it can be the languages of their home countries and larger communities such as Canadian French, Cajun French, Gaelic and so on - and of course Yiddish. Yiddish is the German language which originated with Ashkenazi Jews centuries ago. It remains the mother tongue (mame loshn) in fact or emotion for Jews around the world today. When I first became close to Chuck, Yiddish fascinated me. It was part of the secret handshake of his family. His parents, aunts and uncles sat up and took notice when the Irish Catholic girl pronounced and used a Yiddish phrase correctly. It was a hand outstretched in friendship from me and it was welcomed. The first time I was able to make a joke, a play on words, simultaneously in both English and Yiddish I felt as if I should be moving the tassel on my mortarboard!
So as I watched “I Know Where I’m Going!” and listened to the Scottish Gaelic rise up in the back of the actors' throats, roll around on their tongues and spill out in rapid, easy, comfortable conversation, I felt a sharp pang. It was somewhere between recognition and loss. It made me long for what I might have learned from my Scottish uncles and aunts. And made me even more grateful for the way Chuck and his family welcomed me in and began teaching me their mame loshn, which has, in many ways, become mine as well.
Great grandparents James and Mary passed before I was born. Several of their children, my great aunts and uncles, were alive for many years after my birth. But I never met any of them. From what I can piece together, there was a falling out; a rift developed between my grandfather Alexander and the rest of his family. My mother thinks it had something to do with Alexander’s family disapproving of his choice of bride, my grandmother Catherine. However the rift began, it was never, ever healed.
Sometimes, a later generation can reach across the gulf and find a way to let the disagreements of their parents lie in the past. That happened in Chuck’s family. Siblings at his father’s generation lived with a rift for many years. Then Chuck wrote a letter to his cousins from whom he had been estranged and a door opened. Sadly, this never happened between my family and my paternal grandparent’s family. Which is how I came to wonder the other day about how many things I missed out on. What could my great aunts and uncles John, James, Mary, Lizzie and Madeline Rose have taught me? Would they have loved me? Would my toddler smile have melted their hearts as it did my grandfather Alexander’s? Would they have shared recipes, traditions, family stories and history with me? And would any of the Scottish Gaelic they may have spoken been passed on to me?
I love the private languages of families. It can be the expressions they use which set them apart from their neighbors, just as it ties them strongly to generations past. Or it can be the languages of their home countries and larger communities such as Canadian French, Cajun French, Gaelic and so on - and of course Yiddish. Yiddish is the German language which originated with Ashkenazi Jews centuries ago. It remains the mother tongue (mame loshn) in fact or emotion for Jews around the world today. When I first became close to Chuck, Yiddish fascinated me. It was part of the secret handshake of his family. His parents, aunts and uncles sat up and took notice when the Irish Catholic girl pronounced and used a Yiddish phrase correctly. It was a hand outstretched in friendship from me and it was welcomed. The first time I was able to make a joke, a play on words, simultaneously in both English and Yiddish I felt as if I should be moving the tassel on my mortarboard!
So as I watched “I Know Where I’m Going!” and listened to the Scottish Gaelic rise up in the back of the actors' throats, roll around on their tongues and spill out in rapid, easy, comfortable conversation, I felt a sharp pang. It was somewhere between recognition and loss. It made me long for what I might have learned from my Scottish uncles and aunts. And made me even more grateful for the way Chuck and his family welcomed me in and began teaching me their mame loshn, which has, in many ways, become mine as well.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
An Observation
I was just a year older than Michael Jackson. So I remember being aware of him and singing along with his songs for most of my life. I can’t say I was a huge fan; a true fanatic. But I did enjoy his music, was captivated by his videos and his dancing. The bloom began to come off the rose for me as Michael altered his physical appearance. I couldn’t connect with the way he wanted to modify his features from what I perceived as him being a beautiful child and a handsome young man, into something increasingly damaged, disfigured and bizarre.
To my recollection, the spotlight never really left Michael - from his first appearances as part of The Jackson Five, to his casket at the Staples Center yesterday. But as Michael became more unusual; as he slipped further to the edges of the bell curve, the media spotlight intensified. The glare became harsher; the rumors became accusations. What had once been popularity and celebrity, morphed rapidly, seamlessly into notoriety and, at times, infamy. Scandals became headlines. An allegation was settled financially and perceived as a guilty plea. A courtroom drama unfolded as circus; the acquittal on all charges eclipsed by the sideshow carnival of fans, paparazzi and international media with microphones standing in front of satellite uplink trucks and Michael himself in pajama bottoms.
Michael married, divorced, remarried and had children, divorced again and had a third child. In summary form, it reads as falling within the bounds of what we see in Hollywood and in our own communities - not fully approved of by society, but not unheard of. But when Michael Jackson, his ongoing physical metamorphosis and that unblinking media spotlight got thrown into the mix, it was all just too, too weird - unseemly, inappropriate, suspect, even creepy. We learned that he was likely abused as a child. At the very least he was pushed aggressively by a domineering stage father, into a tough industry fraught with peril for child stars. But even that revelation couldn’t mitigate the uneasiness the non-fanatic felt looking at the garish tabloid covers and the headlines on the entertainment pages.
Yesterday, I listened to people from many walks of life speak from the heart about the loss of their friend. For a few hours we heard in unedited form from people who actually knew Michael Jackson, many of them for decades. The more I listened, the more I began to feel I had been sold a bill of goods; that I had been seduced by the media hype and bought it hook, line and sinker. These friends spoke passionately and with humor about an undeniably talented individual, who lived an extraordinary life. Obviously, a memorial service is a time to eulogize, to focus on the positive aspects of the decedent’s life and to comfort the grieving family and friends with one’s words and reminiscences. But if Michael Jackson truly had been the pariah the media made him out to be, why were these folks testifying so publicly to the esteem in which they held him and the magnitude of their loss?
I suppose it could have been just crass publicity seeking; a desire to be part of the international event; the final act under the big tent of the circus which was Michael Jackson’s life. Yet as the memorial service continued, I became more convinced that those closest to Michael knew something I didn’t: that he was, at his heart, kind and well intentioned. Seeing his three children sitting in the front row with their father’s family, I reinterpreted the way Michael had kept his children veiled and masked. What had previously seemed crazy, now seemed sensible and responsible. Now that they have been revealed; thrust prematurely into that same all consuming spotlight, it seems unlikely that they will soon find peace.
Was Michael Jackson troubled? Yes. Was he strange, eccentric, odd and peculiar? Yes to all. Am I left wondering why he was able to persist in his self destructive behaviors despite being surrounded by people of influence who apparently cared deeply for him? Again, yes. But I also began to get an uneasy feeling that I had participated, almost unconsciously, in a sort of 21st century witch hunt.
Am I certain? No. But yesterday’s memorial service gave me sufficient pause, that in all good conscience, I must now consciously reconsider the totality of my opinion of Michael Jackson. Before forming a final opinion, I must look at the whole gestalt of his life and not allow myself to be distracted or disgusted by lurid headlines nor put off by his strangeness nor beguiled by his dazzling talent.
To my recollection, the spotlight never really left Michael - from his first appearances as part of The Jackson Five, to his casket at the Staples Center yesterday. But as Michael became more unusual; as he slipped further to the edges of the bell curve, the media spotlight intensified. The glare became harsher; the rumors became accusations. What had once been popularity and celebrity, morphed rapidly, seamlessly into notoriety and, at times, infamy. Scandals became headlines. An allegation was settled financially and perceived as a guilty plea. A courtroom drama unfolded as circus; the acquittal on all charges eclipsed by the sideshow carnival of fans, paparazzi and international media with microphones standing in front of satellite uplink trucks and Michael himself in pajama bottoms.
Michael married, divorced, remarried and had children, divorced again and had a third child. In summary form, it reads as falling within the bounds of what we see in Hollywood and in our own communities - not fully approved of by society, but not unheard of. But when Michael Jackson, his ongoing physical metamorphosis and that unblinking media spotlight got thrown into the mix, it was all just too, too weird - unseemly, inappropriate, suspect, even creepy. We learned that he was likely abused as a child. At the very least he was pushed aggressively by a domineering stage father, into a tough industry fraught with peril for child stars. But even that revelation couldn’t mitigate the uneasiness the non-fanatic felt looking at the garish tabloid covers and the headlines on the entertainment pages.
Yesterday, I listened to people from many walks of life speak from the heart about the loss of their friend. For a few hours we heard in unedited form from people who actually knew Michael Jackson, many of them for decades. The more I listened, the more I began to feel I had been sold a bill of goods; that I had been seduced by the media hype and bought it hook, line and sinker. These friends spoke passionately and with humor about an undeniably talented individual, who lived an extraordinary life. Obviously, a memorial service is a time to eulogize, to focus on the positive aspects of the decedent’s life and to comfort the grieving family and friends with one’s words and reminiscences. But if Michael Jackson truly had been the pariah the media made him out to be, why were these folks testifying so publicly to the esteem in which they held him and the magnitude of their loss?
I suppose it could have been just crass publicity seeking; a desire to be part of the international event; the final act under the big tent of the circus which was Michael Jackson’s life. Yet as the memorial service continued, I became more convinced that those closest to Michael knew something I didn’t: that he was, at his heart, kind and well intentioned. Seeing his three children sitting in the front row with their father’s family, I reinterpreted the way Michael had kept his children veiled and masked. What had previously seemed crazy, now seemed sensible and responsible. Now that they have been revealed; thrust prematurely into that same all consuming spotlight, it seems unlikely that they will soon find peace.
Was Michael Jackson troubled? Yes. Was he strange, eccentric, odd and peculiar? Yes to all. Am I left wondering why he was able to persist in his self destructive behaviors despite being surrounded by people of influence who apparently cared deeply for him? Again, yes. But I also began to get an uneasy feeling that I had participated, almost unconsciously, in a sort of 21st century witch hunt.
Am I certain? No. But yesterday’s memorial service gave me sufficient pause, that in all good conscience, I must now consciously reconsider the totality of my opinion of Michael Jackson. Before forming a final opinion, I must look at the whole gestalt of his life and not allow myself to be distracted or disgusted by lurid headlines nor put off by his strangeness nor beguiled by his dazzling talent.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Pin-Ball-Post
My mosquito bites have blossomed (It usually takes 24 plus hours for the itching to become intense.), but I wouldn’t change a thing about Saturday’s festivities. Well, unless I could eliminate mosquitoes entirely - oh and ticks too! I’m sure some rational environmentalist could give me a solid argument for why we need mosquitoes and ticks, ecologically speaking that is. But I doubt I’d be dissuaded from my distaste for those particular creatures. Blech!
Speaking of Saturday, (even in this odd and roundabout way) we have a super sufficiency of Gazpacho around here. That’s a nice way of saying my Gazpacho was not as well received as my appetizers! The folks who liked it really liked it. Unless of course they work part time at the Trinity Repertory Theater... Do you know that being from Rhode Island where the letter “R” is somewhat elusive, I had to look up how to spell Repertory? I kept wanting to type something which sounded more like rep-uh-tory!
Where was I? Oh. Gazpacho. Well, I don’t want to talk about it any more. Let’s see, what else is new? We found the Daylilies. I can’t remember what varieties of Hemerocallis we’ve planted over the years, but the poor things were lost in the vast, green jungle of overgrowth which sprang up faster than Jack’s beanstalk during the monsoon season - A.K.A. June 2009. I got the scythe out - yes it was truly that bad - and cut my way back to the lovelies. I should have, but I didn’t take a photo of them. So I posted a photo of one of Carrie and Al’s from their backyard. Ours look just like theirs, only more maroonish.
I’m sorry this post is so disjointed. No I haven’t had an over abundance of caffeine. I think I watched Governor Sarah Palin’s (R-AK) resignation speech one too many times and her deer-in-the-headlights, frenzied feeling just rubbed off on me. Maybe I can douse myself with tomato juice the way you’re supposed to bathe your dog if it gets sprayed by a skunk.
Hey! Now I know what to do with all that freakin’ Gazpacho!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Spectacular!
Yesterday’s party at Carrie and Al’s home was terrific! There was a great group of people, an amazing variety of food and we all took pleasure in the shocking delight of the first sunny day in a month! There was also something called “Ladder Golf”, (courtesy of Phil and Kate) the finer points of which escaped me, but which was the center of some spirited competition. The appetizers I brought disappeared swiftly and were pronounced “f---ing awesome” by one guest - high praise indeed! Al manned the grill all day and well into the night, carrying on the great tradition of other grill masters in our extended family, including my Dad. And (thanks to Ken and Linda) Chuck and I fell in love with some scrumptious pizza from this place, which needs to open a shop in Worcester County - please? The blue ribbon for most delectable dessert went to the blueberry pie, made with blueberries nestled in a delicate, flaky crust, topped with freshly whipped cream. It tasted as if someone had brought all the ingredients into the blueberry patch and assembled it on the spot. Oh my, my, my!
We hadn’t been to a fireworks display in many years, so we were really looking forward to dusk falling and the walk to the nearby beach. The whole crowd trooped down with chairs and blankets to settle in on the grass, boulders and sandy water’s edge for the show. Actually, to be more precise, it wasn’t just one fireworks display, there were almost too many to count. Up and down the shores of Narragansett Bay, private parties were setting off their own fireworks and then in every direction we could see more distant bursts of color from the professional acts. It was quite wonderful. Despite the limitations of my camera (and the photographer at its controls!) I managed to capture a few images which I hope will give you a feel for the evening.
The show is just beginning
My favorite photo of the night
That's a waxing gibbous moon right in the heart of the fireworks and the water’s edge below
We hadn’t been to a fireworks display in many years, so we were really looking forward to dusk falling and the walk to the nearby beach. The whole crowd trooped down with chairs and blankets to settle in on the grass, boulders and sandy water’s edge for the show. Actually, to be more precise, it wasn’t just one fireworks display, there were almost too many to count. Up and down the shores of Narragansett Bay, private parties were setting off their own fireworks and then in every direction we could see more distant bursts of color from the professional acts. It was quite wonderful. Despite the limitations of my camera (and the photographer at its controls!) I managed to capture a few images which I hope will give you a feel for the evening.
The show is just beginning
My favorite photo of the night
That's a waxing gibbous moon right in the heart of the fireworks and the water’s edge below
Friday, July 3, 2009
Cucumber Cool
My niece Carrie and her husband Al are hosting a Fourth of July wing-ding at their house tomorrow. Carrie is blessedly calm, cool and collected when it comes to her role as hostess. I want to study her, learn her secrets and find a way to be as relaxed as she is when hordes of relatives come pouring over the threshold!
I spent today dicing, slicing, chopping, simmering and baking. Now the cooking is done! Al and Carrie will be grilling the hot dogs and hamburgers and Carrie left the rest of the menu up to her guests’ discretion. See what I mean? Cool as a cucumber she is! Speaking of cucumbers, I made a big pot of my Gazpacho this afternoon. I played with it a bit by adding some fire roasted tomatoes and a dash of chipotle powder.
I also made some Southwestern influenced appetizers. I used Wendy in Scotland’s recipe for Black Bean and Sweet Potato Burritos as the springboard. But instead of full sized burritos, I used wonton wrappers to create tiny two bite portions. I’ve used the same technique for mini-quiches. I took the square wonton wrappers and gently pushed them into the greased wells of a mini-muffin tin. Then I added a heaping teaspoonful of the burrito filling into the wrapper. Lastly, I put a little piece of sharp cheddar cheese on top of the filling. I popped them into the oven at 350-375 degrees Fahrenheit (175-190 Celsius) for about ten to fifteen minutes or until they look bubbly and golden.
I hope that all of you celebrating Independence Day tomorrow have a storm free, blue sky day. Most importantly, I hope you have a safe and happy holiday weekend!
Here's one batch cooling on the rack.
I spent today dicing, slicing, chopping, simmering and baking. Now the cooking is done! Al and Carrie will be grilling the hot dogs and hamburgers and Carrie left the rest of the menu up to her guests’ discretion. See what I mean? Cool as a cucumber she is! Speaking of cucumbers, I made a big pot of my Gazpacho this afternoon. I played with it a bit by adding some fire roasted tomatoes and a dash of chipotle powder.
I also made some Southwestern influenced appetizers. I used Wendy in Scotland’s recipe for Black Bean and Sweet Potato Burritos as the springboard. But instead of full sized burritos, I used wonton wrappers to create tiny two bite portions. I’ve used the same technique for mini-quiches. I took the square wonton wrappers and gently pushed them into the greased wells of a mini-muffin tin. Then I added a heaping teaspoonful of the burrito filling into the wrapper. Lastly, I put a little piece of sharp cheddar cheese on top of the filling. I popped them into the oven at 350-375 degrees Fahrenheit (175-190 Celsius) for about ten to fifteen minutes or until they look bubbly and golden.
I hope that all of you celebrating Independence Day tomorrow have a storm free, blue sky day. Most importantly, I hope you have a safe and happy holiday weekend!
Here's one batch cooling on the rack.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The Nuns
I had two parents, four grandparents and two sisters, all of whom raised me up. They each brought something special to the mix, even my paternal grandfather who passed away when I was little more than one year old. I don’t remember him directly, but there were photographs of me on Grandpa’s lap with both of us beaming to beat the band. Because Grandpa was quite curmudgeonly, this was regarded as special and I was told the story over and over. So even in his absence I felt his love.
Beyond my immediate family raising me up, I also had the Roman Catholic Church. Specifically nuns from the Religious Sisters of Mercy as well a goodly number of priests. I began school just after Blessed Pope John XXIII began to throw open the doors and windows to let an enormous gust of fresh air into the Church via the Second Vatican Council. It was an exciting, yeasty time to be attending Catholic school. Social justice, human rights and politics became increasingly integral to the daily class called “Religion”. The Vietnam War, the protests at home, the My Lai Massacre and President Nixon peppered our discussions, all within the context of Catholicism.
There were only two scary nuns; Sister Mary M. and Sister Mary C., both elderly and from an earlier, harsher era. And there was only one priest who was a royal pain, but because I called him on his rude behavior toward a fellow student in front of the entire class, I caught his attention. As a result, Father M. trained me to become a Lector and always tapped me for what he described as the “dramatic readings” at Mass. How could I stay mad at a guy who brought me completely past all of my shyness and stage fright to a microphone on the altar?
But it was the nuns who were the daily constant for me. Even now, when the Church and I are not on the best of terms, I still have a warm place in my heart for the strong, independent, warm, feisty, funny, no nonsense, compassionate, knowledge loving women who constantly steadied my moral compass. That’s why this article in the New York Times, by Laurie Goodstein, jumped out at me. The headline: “U.S. Nuns Facing Vatican Scrutiny”. The lede: “The Vatican is quietly conducting two sweeping investigations of American nuns, a development that has startled and dismayed nuns who fear they are the targets of a doctrinal inquisition.”
Regular readers know that I am capable of righteous anger. So I will resist typing much of what bubbled to the surface as I read the article. I do not; nay, I cannot trust this incarnation of the Roman Catholic Church, with Pope Benedict XVI at the helm, to do no harm during these investigations. Pope Benedict reportedly prefers a leaner, smaller, purer Church. So much of what this Pope wants is antithetical to the positive results of the admittedly near seismic shifts of the Second Vatican Council. Vatican II righted wrongs, reached out to the laity and invited ecumenism. The nuns being investigated by the Vatican now, are the same women who reinforced the Golden Rule from my family home and elucidated the finer points of how to put that simple guide into daily practice as a Christian and as a Catholic. These nuns are the backbone of the Church. We need more, not fewer of these unsung heroines of both religion and education.
Beyond my immediate family raising me up, I also had the Roman Catholic Church. Specifically nuns from the Religious Sisters of Mercy as well a goodly number of priests. I began school just after Blessed Pope John XXIII began to throw open the doors and windows to let an enormous gust of fresh air into the Church via the Second Vatican Council. It was an exciting, yeasty time to be attending Catholic school. Social justice, human rights and politics became increasingly integral to the daily class called “Religion”. The Vietnam War, the protests at home, the My Lai Massacre and President Nixon peppered our discussions, all within the context of Catholicism.
There were only two scary nuns; Sister Mary M. and Sister Mary C., both elderly and from an earlier, harsher era. And there was only one priest who was a royal pain, but because I called him on his rude behavior toward a fellow student in front of the entire class, I caught his attention. As a result, Father M. trained me to become a Lector and always tapped me for what he described as the “dramatic readings” at Mass. How could I stay mad at a guy who brought me completely past all of my shyness and stage fright to a microphone on the altar?
But it was the nuns who were the daily constant for me. Even now, when the Church and I are not on the best of terms, I still have a warm place in my heart for the strong, independent, warm, feisty, funny, no nonsense, compassionate, knowledge loving women who constantly steadied my moral compass. That’s why this article in the New York Times, by Laurie Goodstein, jumped out at me. The headline: “U.S. Nuns Facing Vatican Scrutiny”. The lede: “The Vatican is quietly conducting two sweeping investigations of American nuns, a development that has startled and dismayed nuns who fear they are the targets of a doctrinal inquisition.”
Regular readers know that I am capable of righteous anger. So I will resist typing much of what bubbled to the surface as I read the article. I do not; nay, I cannot trust this incarnation of the Roman Catholic Church, with Pope Benedict XVI at the helm, to do no harm during these investigations. Pope Benedict reportedly prefers a leaner, smaller, purer Church. So much of what this Pope wants is antithetical to the positive results of the admittedly near seismic shifts of the Second Vatican Council. Vatican II righted wrongs, reached out to the laity and invited ecumenism. The nuns being investigated by the Vatican now, are the same women who reinforced the Golden Rule from my family home and elucidated the finer points of how to put that simple guide into daily practice as a Christian and as a Catholic. These nuns are the backbone of the Church. We need more, not fewer of these unsung heroines of both religion and education.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
1.5 Million Euros
If I had 1.5 million Euros, then I would have $2,120,698.82 - give or take a penny or two. If I had that sort of BBMMTG (big bucks, more money than God) then I could purchase this sweet little seaside cottage. Now if I had unlimited resources - beyond BBMMTG, more like the deep pockets of a Bill Gates or a Warren Buffett - then I could purchase this cottage, which comes complete with its own ruin.
Why am I looking at cottages in Ireland, when I’ve never even been to Ireland? Well, one branch of my family left Clifden, Connemara, County Galway, Ireland more than a century ago. But several generations later, something still calls to me from that achingly beautiful corner of the world. And sometimes, a day with lots of frustrations causes me to daydream about running away. I guess in this case it would be running home. Back to an ancestral home which was hardscrabble and impoverished enough back then to drive my forebears to come over here. But on a day like today, from a drastically more comfortable vantage point, Connemara looks romantic and peaceful and tantalizingly free.
Why am I looking at cottages in Ireland, when I’ve never even been to Ireland? Well, one branch of my family left Clifden, Connemara, County Galway, Ireland more than a century ago. But several generations later, something still calls to me from that achingly beautiful corner of the world. And sometimes, a day with lots of frustrations causes me to daydream about running away. I guess in this case it would be running home. Back to an ancestral home which was hardscrabble and impoverished enough back then to drive my forebears to come over here. But on a day like today, from a drastically more comfortable vantage point, Connemara looks romantic and peaceful and tantalizingly free.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Ask & Tell - Until DADT Is Overturned
Driving home tonight, listening to the wild and wooly Boston Red Sox game on the radio, I was certain it would become the topic of this post. But when I arrived home I read the disappointing news about First Lieutenant Daniel Choi. As I mentioned the other day, Lt. Choi, an infantry platoon leader in the Iraq War and an Arabic linguist, was facing discharge from the military because he publicly acknowledged he is gay. This statement of truth is in violation of the wrongheaded Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy (DADT). Unfortunately, the panel of New York National Guard officers today recommended Lt. Choi be discharged from the Army because he violated DADT. The recommendation must go up the chain of command, but as of this writing there is no firm deadline for that final decision.
I am asking everyone to contact the White House to urge President Obama to sign an executive order halting all “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” (DADT) discharges while the policy is under review.
Here’s how to do it:
Via the Internet: Click here to send an e-mail.
Via Telephone:
Comments: 202-456-1111
Switchboard: 202-456-1414
FAX: 202-456-2461
Via TTY/TDD:
Comments: 202-456-6213
Via Postal Service:
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500
Via Twitter: Use the address @BarackObama and @whitehouse (both of these are verified accounts)
Thank you.
: : UPDATE: You can click on this link to go to the Courage Campaign website and sign a letter to Speaker of the United States House of Representatives Nancy Pelosi, urging the repeal of DADT.
I am asking everyone to contact the White House to urge President Obama to sign an executive order halting all “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” (DADT) discharges while the policy is under review.
Here’s how to do it:
Via the Internet: Click here to send an e-mail.
Via Telephone:
Comments: 202-456-1111
Switchboard: 202-456-1414
FAX: 202-456-2461
Via TTY/TDD:
Comments: 202-456-6213
Via Postal Service:
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500
Via Twitter: Use the address @BarackObama and @whitehouse (both of these are verified accounts)
Thank you.
: : UPDATE: You can click on this link to go to the Courage Campaign website and sign a letter to Speaker of the United States House of Representatives Nancy Pelosi, urging the repeal of DADT.
Monday, June 29, 2009
150 Years
Bernard Madoff, age 71, was sentenced to 150 years in prison today for his elaborate, far reaching and long running Ponzi scheme, which defrauded - robbed - hundreds of people and organizations of enormous sums of money.
Perhaps because of the scale of the monies lost, coupled with the notoriety of some of the investors, there has seemed to be limited sympathy for the victims. (Burt Ross has posted several powerful pieces over on The Daily Beast chronicling his experience as one of Madoff’s victims, including the impact statement he read in court today.) But it is important to note that Madoff was a confidence man of the highest order. He was not some shady fly-by-night guy with an office in a strip mall. He founded his investment company back in 1960; was instrumental in the creation of NASDAQ and served as Chairman of the Board of the National Association of Securities Dealers. He had stature of long standing in the Wall Street community and, even more importantly, in the regulatory end of that industry.
It also must be made clear that investors with Madoff received conservative (albeit impossibly steady) returns on their “investments”. They received detailed, completely fictitious statements from Madoff showing their “holdings” in stocks - many of which were blue chip and widows and orphans stocks. Looking at those statements, I’m sure people felt comforted month in and month out that they were investing their hard earned money wisely, with a talented man shepherding their resources, for their children’s educations and their own retirements.
Beyond Madoff as an unparalleled con man, he also betrayed his investors’ trust in a deeply shameful way by targeting fellow Jews. This tremendous Ponzi scheme was simultaneously an Affinity scheme. Madoff worked his way from individuals to non-profit Jewish organizations, ultimately causing tremendous losses to Yeshiva University, Maimonides School and Holocaust survivor and Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel’s own Foundation For Humanity, to name a few.
It is not clear how many other individuals who participated in Madoff’s Ponzi/Affinity scheme will be prosecuted. But considering the depth and breadth of the fraudulent activities, I have to believe many, many more criminals will be brought to justice.
I have no sympathy for Madoff. 150 years in a federal penitentiary? The gonnif (thief) should live so long.
Perhaps because of the scale of the monies lost, coupled with the notoriety of some of the investors, there has seemed to be limited sympathy for the victims. (Burt Ross has posted several powerful pieces over on The Daily Beast chronicling his experience as one of Madoff’s victims, including the impact statement he read in court today.) But it is important to note that Madoff was a confidence man of the highest order. He was not some shady fly-by-night guy with an office in a strip mall. He founded his investment company back in 1960; was instrumental in the creation of NASDAQ and served as Chairman of the Board of the National Association of Securities Dealers. He had stature of long standing in the Wall Street community and, even more importantly, in the regulatory end of that industry.
It also must be made clear that investors with Madoff received conservative (albeit impossibly steady) returns on their “investments”. They received detailed, completely fictitious statements from Madoff showing their “holdings” in stocks - many of which were blue chip and widows and orphans stocks. Looking at those statements, I’m sure people felt comforted month in and month out that they were investing their hard earned money wisely, with a talented man shepherding their resources, for their children’s educations and their own retirements.
Beyond Madoff as an unparalleled con man, he also betrayed his investors’ trust in a deeply shameful way by targeting fellow Jews. This tremendous Ponzi scheme was simultaneously an Affinity scheme. Madoff worked his way from individuals to non-profit Jewish organizations, ultimately causing tremendous losses to Yeshiva University, Maimonides School and Holocaust survivor and Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel’s own Foundation For Humanity, to name a few.
It is not clear how many other individuals who participated in Madoff’s Ponzi/Affinity scheme will be prosecuted. But considering the depth and breadth of the fraudulent activities, I have to believe many, many more criminals will be brought to justice.
I have no sympathy for Madoff. 150 years in a federal penitentiary? The gonnif (thief) should live so long.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Across Time
I stopped by Ilva’s blog today and she mentioned a very interesting photographic artist named Bobby Neel Adams. I went by his website and looked at his “Age-Maps”. As Ilva put it, his Age-Maps “both delight and disturb”. I had a similar reaction - plus an immediate desire to try my hand at the technique. So with all due respect and in the sincere hope that Mr. Adams perceives imitation as the sincerest form of flattery, I made this photo composite. It’s Chuck merged from two photos; one at age 7 and the other at age 64.
And yes, I know what a truly good sport Chuck is!
And yes, I know what a truly good sport Chuck is!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Notorious
I can’t state exactly how many times I’ve seen the movie “Notorious” (1946), but every single time I watch it I am drawn in immediately. It’s partly the skill of director Alfred Hitchcock and partly the taut writing of Ben Hecht and partly the fine acting of the entire cast - especially the gorgeous Cary Grant and the stunning Ingrid Bergman. More than just technical genius, there is something mesmerizing about the entire film. Each time I watch “Notorious” I hold my breath during the scene in the wine cellar and, of course, the walk down the sweeping staircase at the cusp of the denouement. Six decades past its creation, it remains not notorious but glorious.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Good Men and Women All
I am posting a copy of the letter I received from The Courage Campaign. Lieutenant Dan Choi may be fired from the military for having stated he is gay. This statement of truth is in violation of the wrongheaded Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy (DADT). Please read the letter and then click on the link at the bottom to sign a letter of support.
A Letter From Daniel W. Choi:
Dear Reader,
On Tuesday at 8 a.m., I will stand trial for speaking three truthful words: “I am gay.”
On Tuesday, I will face a panel of colonels who will decide whether or not to fire me -- to discharge me for "moral and professional dereliction" under the military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy.
On Tuesday, I will try to prove that it's not immoral to tell the truth.
As an infantry officer, an Iraq combat veteran and a West Point graduate with a degree in Arabic, I refuse to lie to my commanders. I refuse to lie to my peers. I refuse to lie to my subordinates.
My case requires that I provide personal testimony from people who can attest to my character. That's why several members of my military unit have written letters of support and offered to testify on my behalf.
Now I need your help. ANYONE who believes the Army should not fire me can take a stand right now. I am bringing a statement of support to Tuesday’s trial and I need you to add your signature to it. Will you support me by signing this statement before Tuesday?
I want to thank the 141,262 people who have signed the "Don't Fire Dan" letter launched a few weeks ago by the Courage Campaign and CREDO Mobile to President Obama, asking him to take leadership to bring this tragic policy to an end.
The momentum is building. This week, 77 members of Congress signed a letter to the President citing my service as an example of why DADT should be repealed. And a Gallup poll was recently released showing that 69 percent of Americans -- including 58 percent of Republicans - favor allowing openly gay men and lesbian women to serve their country .
As I learned at West Point, deception and lies poison a unit and cripple a fighting force. That's why more than 70 of my fellow West Point graduates have also come out of the closet to join Knights Out, the organization I co-founded to build support for the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell".
The only way we will eventually overturn “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” is by speaking up together. You can help me fight back right now by adding your name to my statement of support. On Tuesday morning I will bring your signature -- and thousands of others -- to my trial as a demonstration of your collective support.
National security means many things, but the thing that makes us secure in our nation and homes is love. What makes me a better soldier, leader, Christian and human being is love. And I'm not going to hide my love.
Love is worth it.
Thank you for your support.
Daniel W. Choi
1LT, IN
New York Army National Guard
I urge you to take a moment to click here to support Dan. Thank you.
A Letter From Daniel W. Choi:
Dear Reader,
On Tuesday at 8 a.m., I will stand trial for speaking three truthful words: “I am gay.”
On Tuesday, I will face a panel of colonels who will decide whether or not to fire me -- to discharge me for "moral and professional dereliction" under the military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy.
On Tuesday, I will try to prove that it's not immoral to tell the truth.
As an infantry officer, an Iraq combat veteran and a West Point graduate with a degree in Arabic, I refuse to lie to my commanders. I refuse to lie to my peers. I refuse to lie to my subordinates.
My case requires that I provide personal testimony from people who can attest to my character. That's why several members of my military unit have written letters of support and offered to testify on my behalf.
Now I need your help. ANYONE who believes the Army should not fire me can take a stand right now. I am bringing a statement of support to Tuesday’s trial and I need you to add your signature to it. Will you support me by signing this statement before Tuesday?
I want to thank the 141,262 people who have signed the "Don't Fire Dan" letter launched a few weeks ago by the Courage Campaign and CREDO Mobile to President Obama, asking him to take leadership to bring this tragic policy to an end.
The momentum is building. This week, 77 members of Congress signed a letter to the President citing my service as an example of why DADT should be repealed. And a Gallup poll was recently released showing that 69 percent of Americans -- including 58 percent of Republicans - favor allowing openly gay men and lesbian women to serve their country .
As I learned at West Point, deception and lies poison a unit and cripple a fighting force. That's why more than 70 of my fellow West Point graduates have also come out of the closet to join Knights Out, the organization I co-founded to build support for the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell".
The only way we will eventually overturn “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” is by speaking up together. You can help me fight back right now by adding your name to my statement of support. On Tuesday morning I will bring your signature -- and thousands of others -- to my trial as a demonstration of your collective support.
National security means many things, but the thing that makes us secure in our nation and homes is love. What makes me a better soldier, leader, Christian and human being is love. And I'm not going to hide my love.
Love is worth it.
Thank you for your support.
Daniel W. Choi
1LT, IN
New York Army National Guard
I urge you to take a moment to click here to support Dan. Thank you.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Dining Al Fresco - Sort Of
After the recent town meeting, we stepped out of the steamy auditorium into the misty but mercifully cooler night air. As we walked to the car we realized we were really hungry. Banking on a short meeting, we’d only eaten a late lunch. But at near 11:00 p.m. nothing in our little corner of the world was open. I began listing dinner options available at home. Soon, Chuck began listing off other options. That’s how we found ourselves driving into a nearby town to the “open late” Wendy’s drive through window. We ordered a couple of cups of chili and parked neatly between the lines in the not quite deserted lot. (Yes he does take me to the nicest places!) I unpacked the containers of chili from the bag; then the little pouches of Saltines; then a couple of pre-wrapped napkin-knife-fork packets. I looked in the bag. I shook the bag. No spoons were included. Sigh...
Chuck chivalrously high tailed it on foot to the drive through window to get the spoons. He returned quickly, opened the back door of the car and grabbed our container of traveling supplies. He sat back in the driver’s seat, pulled out a couple of our own plastic spoons and announced that Wendy’s no longer provides spoons. Yes they still sell chili, but they no longer carry spoons! The staff had no explanation, but found it equally odd. Wendy’s chili isn’t an eat it with a fork sort of food. It’s a more liquidy, sloshy sort of chili. As we dined we continued to speculate on the the corporate mindset. As we crumbled our Saltines onto the chili, Chuck wondered if their plan was for us to use the crackers to sop up the liquid and then fork the chili cracker mixture out. I suggested maybe we were supposed to eat all the chunky bits with the fork and then try to drink the liquid at the end. When all was said and done - including the theorizing and the chili - we had no good and logical explanation for Wendy’s no-spoon policy. It struck us as just some corporate pencil pusher’s misguided attempt at cost savings. I did call Wendy’s headquarters and left a message suggesting it wasn’t a good idea to tell customer’s to stick a fork in it - the chili that is!
Chuck chivalrously high tailed it on foot to the drive through window to get the spoons. He returned quickly, opened the back door of the car and grabbed our container of traveling supplies. He sat back in the driver’s seat, pulled out a couple of our own plastic spoons and announced that Wendy’s no longer provides spoons. Yes they still sell chili, but they no longer carry spoons! The staff had no explanation, but found it equally odd. Wendy’s chili isn’t an eat it with a fork sort of food. It’s a more liquidy, sloshy sort of chili. As we dined we continued to speculate on the the corporate mindset. As we crumbled our Saltines onto the chili, Chuck wondered if their plan was for us to use the crackers to sop up the liquid and then fork the chili cracker mixture out. I suggested maybe we were supposed to eat all the chunky bits with the fork and then try to drink the liquid at the end. When all was said and done - including the theorizing and the chili - we had no good and logical explanation for Wendy’s no-spoon policy. It struck us as just some corporate pencil pusher’s misguided attempt at cost savings. I did call Wendy’s headquarters and left a message suggesting it wasn’t a good idea to tell customer’s to stick a fork in it - the chili that is!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
The Ayes Have It
Living in a small, rural Massachusetts town means we have a participatory (A.K.A. “open”) annual town meeting. Occasionally they are sparsely attended. But our first town meeting after we moved here 16 years ago was so crowded that the fire chief said we were near capacity. So a slew of us sat up on the stage in bleacher seats, facing the majority of the townspeople. (“Hello new town!”) Our most recent town meeting was not as beastly hot as normal, but significantly longer than usual. In advance of the meeting, there were two schools of thought about it: 1. the town (like the rest of the Commonwealth) has no money so the meeting will be incredibly brief or 2. the town has no money (like the rest of the Commonwealth) so the meeting will be lengthy and contentious. If you chose “2” you are correct!
I have a love/hate relationship with town meeting. Ours is not as quaint and folksy as some of the ones I’ve read about up in Vermont. Town Meeting Day up there is a state holiday in March, which in Vermont is still decidedly winter. In some towns there is a lot of knitting and covered dish lunches. Here in Central Massachusetts there’s no food and hardly any knitting because our town meeting is typically held in June and it’s just too darn hot. What I do love about town meeting is that any registered voter can show up, sit on uncomfortable folding chairs, listen, raise their hand, be called on by the moderator and ask a question or voice an opinion. If you have a good strong voice which you can project throughout the hall (like Chuck and I both have!), you can stand at your seat and be heard. If you have a wee voice you have to go to the microphone or the moderator has to repeat your question. Of course the down side of anyone being allowed to speak is that anyone is allowed to speak! But as the hours go by and the room grows warmer and my arm is starting to ache from overusing my fan, it becomes an exercise in patience and respect to listen quietly to someone who is, in my opinion, talking to hear themselves talk or is voicing a view which is the polar opposite of my own.
What I consider the most important and honorable part of open town meeting is that we vote by voice (by acclamation) or, when a two thirds majority is required we stand to be counted - literally. It’s hard. Especially if the discussion on the article has been heated, long and involves spending more money. You could be sitting next to a neighbor or friend or fellow congregant and one of you is standing on the yea, while the other is standing on the nay. (Sometimes that split decision happens between Chuck and me, which causes us to joke that the voting is “tearing families asunder”!) But this form of voting is the physical manifestation of “standing up to be counted” which impresses the heck out of me every time I do it. Sometimes there is a motion from the floor to have us vote by secret or paper ballots. But that motion requires a floor vote and rarely passes. And as the evening wears on and the temperature rises, it is extremely rare to get a paper ballot through, because it is ponderously slow and inefficient compared to the more public alternatives. For national, statewide and town elections we still have our polling places and our secret ballots. But for working out the details of an amendment to a noisy dog by-law or parsing the dollars and cents of the school budget I wouldn’t trade annual town meeting for all the tea in China.
I have a love/hate relationship with town meeting. Ours is not as quaint and folksy as some of the ones I’ve read about up in Vermont. Town Meeting Day up there is a state holiday in March, which in Vermont is still decidedly winter. In some towns there is a lot of knitting and covered dish lunches. Here in Central Massachusetts there’s no food and hardly any knitting because our town meeting is typically held in June and it’s just too darn hot. What I do love about town meeting is that any registered voter can show up, sit on uncomfortable folding chairs, listen, raise their hand, be called on by the moderator and ask a question or voice an opinion. If you have a good strong voice which you can project throughout the hall (like Chuck and I both have!), you can stand at your seat and be heard. If you have a wee voice you have to go to the microphone or the moderator has to repeat your question. Of course the down side of anyone being allowed to speak is that anyone is allowed to speak! But as the hours go by and the room grows warmer and my arm is starting to ache from overusing my fan, it becomes an exercise in patience and respect to listen quietly to someone who is, in my opinion, talking to hear themselves talk or is voicing a view which is the polar opposite of my own.
What I consider the most important and honorable part of open town meeting is that we vote by voice (by acclamation) or, when a two thirds majority is required we stand to be counted - literally. It’s hard. Especially if the discussion on the article has been heated, long and involves spending more money. You could be sitting next to a neighbor or friend or fellow congregant and one of you is standing on the yea, while the other is standing on the nay. (Sometimes that split decision happens between Chuck and me, which causes us to joke that the voting is “tearing families asunder”!) But this form of voting is the physical manifestation of “standing up to be counted” which impresses the heck out of me every time I do it. Sometimes there is a motion from the floor to have us vote by secret or paper ballots. But that motion requires a floor vote and rarely passes. And as the evening wears on and the temperature rises, it is extremely rare to get a paper ballot through, because it is ponderously slow and inefficient compared to the more public alternatives. For national, statewide and town elections we still have our polling places and our secret ballots. But for working out the details of an amendment to a noisy dog by-law or parsing the dollars and cents of the school budget I wouldn’t trade annual town meeting for all the tea in China.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
For Milton & George
Chuck and I were both fortunate to have great Dads. My Dad passed away an impossibly long twenty-one years ago. Chuck’s Dad passed only a few months ago, back in February. Today we are missing them both. We miss the best of them; when they were each in their prime and in their full powers. And we miss being able to share something funny or a memory or a bit of good news with them.
The saying goes that any guy can be a father, but it takes a special man to be a dad. So here’s to all the dads, grandfathers and great-grandfathers. And here’s to all the godfathers, big brothers, uncles and good men who serve as father figures. Happy Father’s Day to you all.
The saying goes that any guy can be a father, but it takes a special man to be a dad. So here’s to all the dads, grandfathers and great-grandfathers. And here’s to all the godfathers, big brothers, uncles and good men who serve as father figures. Happy Father’s Day to you all.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Invention’s Mom
When I serve plain fresh fruit, I often add a little sauce of yogurt and honey, thinned with a splash of orange juice. I just spoon the yogurt sauce on top and let it find its way in and around the fruit. The other day I was in a hurry. In addition to being in a rush, I was out of yogurt. But I did have some sour cream. Yogurt and sour cream are kissin’ cousins so I gave it a whirl. But instead of a sauce, I just layered it all up in two little bowls. Here’s how it went:
Fresh strawberries, sliced in half
Fresh blueberries
a sprinkle of turbinado sugar over the fruit
several tiny dollops of (Breakstone’s Light) sour cream on top of the fruit
a dusting of cinnamon sugar over all
Oh my, yes indeedy! Yogurt and sour cream may well be related but not even my favorite thick Greek yogurt (Fage) would be able to beat this assemblage. Very creamy, very decadent and Chuck and I both agreed that as the ingredients bumped up against one another the sour cream tasted more and more like thick whipped cream.
Fresh strawberries, sliced in half
Fresh blueberries
a sprinkle of turbinado sugar over the fruit
several tiny dollops of (Breakstone’s Light) sour cream on top of the fruit
a dusting of cinnamon sugar over all
Oh my, yes indeedy! Yogurt and sour cream may well be related but not even my favorite thick Greek yogurt (Fage) would be able to beat this assemblage. Very creamy, very decadent and Chuck and I both agreed that as the ingredients bumped up against one another the sour cream tasted more and more like thick whipped cream.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Rockwell
The other day we headed out to The Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. We have been wanting to go for ages. I don’t want to discourage anyone from visiting, but we were a little disappointed. The museum is in an exquisitely beautiful location. Picture Tanglewood but add an artist’s studio and a museum building which echoes the design of a New England church. The interior design of the museum is a lovely intersection between modern and traditional, with touches of slate for flooring which grounds it nicely to the environment. The ceilings are high without being cavernous and are trimmed with simply designed, yet massive crown molding which provide a frame for each gallery space.
Out of what appeared to be eight gallery spaces, only five were open and hung with Norman Rockwell pieces. The remaining ones were roped off and being prepared for a contemporary sculpture exhibition of the works of Rockwell’s youngest son Peter. Complicating matters, the museum has mounted a ten city traveling retrospective of Rockwell’s work. That will be on view in Stockbridge beginning July 4th of this year. These two situations left us feeling as if the Rockwell pieces which remained on display, while wonderful, were slimmer than we had expected. Strolling through the gift shop before departing only emphasized the missing pieces, as we looked at prints of the artist’s most famous works.
Two other occurrences left us puzzled. The first was the illumination. The lighting throughout the gallery spaces was uneven. The center room had an enormous skylight which, on a partly sunny day, left it flooded with bright, diffused light. That allowed each painting in that room to be appreciated with ease. The adjacent octagonal room held the iconic “Four Freedoms”. This space had diffused, natural light spilling in from a window in an adjacent room, which left two of the paintings in some shadow. The other three rooms were all quite dim, one, painted in deep tones, was positively gloomy. Even though each piece of artwork was individually lit, they were not “spotlit”. Had the lighting been consistent throughout, we would have assumed it had something to do with preservation of perhaps unstable materials. But moving from bright to dim as we walked room to room left us squinting.
The second problem was grammatical. Alongside each piece of Rockwell’s art a lengthy, informative description was hung. Beyond the typical year painted and materials used, facts about the development of the painting or the inspiration for the piece and even Rockwell’s personal circumstances at the time were included in these narratives. Unfortunately so were typographical errors - including words transposed and others run together. We enjoyed learning the background for these paintings, but the typos became a distraction.
Both Chuck and I have been lifelong fans of Norman Rockwell’s work. His lighthearted pieces make us smile and his serious pieces never fail to move us. Standing in his last, and what he considered to be his finest, studio gave us a little chill knowing it was the room which had once been filled with his intensity and his creativity. Viewing “The Marriage License”, each of “The Four Freedoms”, “The Golden Rule”, “Home for Thanksgiving”, “Saying Grace” and, perhaps most moving, “New Kids In The Neighborhood” was a memorable experience. We just wish that all aspects of the museum had risen to the same level as the best of Rockwell’s work. And despite the surprising shortcomings of the experience, we might try to get back sometime during July or August for the return of “American Chronicles” in hopes of viewing some of the “missing pieces”.
Out of what appeared to be eight gallery spaces, only five were open and hung with Norman Rockwell pieces. The remaining ones were roped off and being prepared for a contemporary sculpture exhibition of the works of Rockwell’s youngest son Peter. Complicating matters, the museum has mounted a ten city traveling retrospective of Rockwell’s work. That will be on view in Stockbridge beginning July 4th of this year. These two situations left us feeling as if the Rockwell pieces which remained on display, while wonderful, were slimmer than we had expected. Strolling through the gift shop before departing only emphasized the missing pieces, as we looked at prints of the artist’s most famous works.
Two other occurrences left us puzzled. The first was the illumination. The lighting throughout the gallery spaces was uneven. The center room had an enormous skylight which, on a partly sunny day, left it flooded with bright, diffused light. That allowed each painting in that room to be appreciated with ease. The adjacent octagonal room held the iconic “Four Freedoms”. This space had diffused, natural light spilling in from a window in an adjacent room, which left two of the paintings in some shadow. The other three rooms were all quite dim, one, painted in deep tones, was positively gloomy. Even though each piece of artwork was individually lit, they were not “spotlit”. Had the lighting been consistent throughout, we would have assumed it had something to do with preservation of perhaps unstable materials. But moving from bright to dim as we walked room to room left us squinting.
The second problem was grammatical. Alongside each piece of Rockwell’s art a lengthy, informative description was hung. Beyond the typical year painted and materials used, facts about the development of the painting or the inspiration for the piece and even Rockwell’s personal circumstances at the time were included in these narratives. Unfortunately so were typographical errors - including words transposed and others run together. We enjoyed learning the background for these paintings, but the typos became a distraction.
Both Chuck and I have been lifelong fans of Norman Rockwell’s work. His lighthearted pieces make us smile and his serious pieces never fail to move us. Standing in his last, and what he considered to be his finest, studio gave us a little chill knowing it was the room which had once been filled with his intensity and his creativity. Viewing “The Marriage License”, each of “The Four Freedoms”, “The Golden Rule”, “Home for Thanksgiving”, “Saying Grace” and, perhaps most moving, “New Kids In The Neighborhood” was a memorable experience. We just wish that all aspects of the museum had risen to the same level as the best of Rockwell’s work. And despite the surprising shortcomings of the experience, we might try to get back sometime during July or August for the return of “American Chronicles” in hopes of viewing some of the “missing pieces”.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Watershed Moment
It was a long, painful, drawn out struggle, but on June 17, 1991, the ruling government of South Africa finally repealed the Population Registration Act of 1950. This particular moment was seen as pivotal in the ultimate dismantling of apartheid. It would be three more years before Nelson Mandela would be elected President of South Africa. The last eighteen years have continued to hold tremendous challenges for the citizens of South Africa. But this eighteen year milestone is an important one to acknowledge.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Liberal? Get A Clue!
I have to laugh when I hear folks on the right calling President Barack Obama a flaming leftist, bleeding heart liberal. I have to laugh or I’ll cry. I supported then candidate Obama and happily voted for him in the election. Progressive/Liberal that I am, I knew he was a brilliant guy, but I also knew he was a pretty conservative-verging-on-middle-of-the-road politician. Don’t get me wrong, compared to the Bush-Cheney-Rove group who dragged our nation down in the mud for the last eight years, Obama and his administration are more than a breath of fresh air. They are returning us to our moral compass and our core Constitutional values. But President Obama is not the dream come true of progressives and liberals.
Case in point: for some unknown and frankly unfathomable reason, the Justice Department under the current Obama administration, has filed a brief in Federal Court defending the “Defense of Marriage Act” (DOMA). In a nutshell, DOMA says that if a same sex couple is legally married in one state, no other state is obligated to recognize that marriage contract and bars the Federal government from treating any such marriage as a legal marriage. Both candidate and President Obama supported a full repeal of DOMA - that is until the Justice Department filed this inexplicable and deeply offensive brief last week.
President Obama and his administration have a full to overflowing plate of issues to be addressed. I get that the economy and wars and health care and a plethora of issues all need attention. But that’s no reason to do a 180 degree turn on a moral issue. This isn’t a gay rights issue. It’s an equal rights issue. To learn more you can watch the video clip from tonight’s Rachel Maddow Show, where she interviews Howard Dean. Maybe someone in the Obama administration could take a look at it as well and review some of the President’s earlier statements as a “fierce advocate for Gay Rights”...
Case in point: for some unknown and frankly unfathomable reason, the Justice Department under the current Obama administration, has filed a brief in Federal Court defending the “Defense of Marriage Act” (DOMA). In a nutshell, DOMA says that if a same sex couple is legally married in one state, no other state is obligated to recognize that marriage contract and bars the Federal government from treating any such marriage as a legal marriage. Both candidate and President Obama supported a full repeal of DOMA - that is until the Justice Department filed this inexplicable and deeply offensive brief last week.
President Obama and his administration have a full to overflowing plate of issues to be addressed. I get that the economy and wars and health care and a plethora of issues all need attention. But that’s no reason to do a 180 degree turn on a moral issue. This isn’t a gay rights issue. It’s an equal rights issue. To learn more you can watch the video clip from tonight’s Rachel Maddow Show, where she interviews Howard Dean. Maybe someone in the Obama administration could take a look at it as well and review some of the President’s earlier statements as a “fierce advocate for Gay Rights”...
Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy
Here Chip!
After a mysterious three year odyssey, there’s a happy ending for a seven year old dog. Abby, a beagle cross, was found in Denver, Colorado last month, with no visible tags. Luckily, prior to her disappearance in 2006, her human had gotten her microchipped. A scan at a Colorado animal shelter enabled staff to to track down the owner who had moved to Kentucky. You can click to read more about Abby’s story.
Even though all of our cats and dogs have always been indoor pets, ever since the pet microchip technology became available, we have had them all chipped. We know that it only takes a split second for an open door to provide an attractive inducement to the outdoors and “away”. There has been controversy about microchips, not about their safety or efficacy, but about the lack of a consistent universal reader to scan all brands of microchips. You can find some good advice from the Humane Society and I would recommend discussing it with your veterinarian. But that teeny microchip, the size of a grain of rice, really can bring about a welcome reunion.
Even though all of our cats and dogs have always been indoor pets, ever since the pet microchip technology became available, we have had them all chipped. We know that it only takes a split second for an open door to provide an attractive inducement to the outdoors and “away”. There has been controversy about microchips, not about their safety or efficacy, but about the lack of a consistent universal reader to scan all brands of microchips. You can find some good advice from the Humane Society and I would recommend discussing it with your veterinarian. But that teeny microchip, the size of a grain of rice, really can bring about a welcome reunion.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Global In 140
So much has been happening here in the United States, it is easy to lose sight of some of the big stories unfolding around the globe. I’ve found that most of my political thoughts have turned into Tweets over on Twitter. Despite the goofy sounding name, Twitter has been extremely busy with folks voicing opinions, as well as sharing links to breaking news. They have also been holding the mainstream media’s feet to the fire over insufficient coverage or slanted coverage - from every possible angle!
Here are some of the topics which I’ve been following and what I have been Tweeting about recently - all in no more than 140 characters:
The Iranian Elections:
Iranian elections: 80%+ voter turnout - fraud is suspected & Mousavi may be under house arrest! (http://is.gd/112t1) The world is watching!
Hard to get current info on Iranian elections! (Try Huffington Post: http://is.gd/11rxT ) U.S. not accepting results! The world is watching!
Brief, fascinating article in NY Times on #CNNfail & the role Twitter has in Iranians communicating about elections: http://is.gd/11OA1
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s Sunday Speech:
Is it just me or did Netanyahu's description of a disarmed Palestinian State sound like US 1800s policy putting Native Americans on the Rez?
Putting Netanyahu's speech in better perspective & a broader context: http://is.gd/12caB - from @NJDC
Zimbabwe:
President Obama & his administration have not overlooked Zimbabwe! Supports Tsvangirai; chides Mugabe: http://is.gd/12cRT
Of course, I intersperse these political Tweets with comments rooting on the Boston Red Sox or chatting with friends. You can find folks of every possible political stripe, business people marketing their wares, music fans, author groupies and even people who Tweet in haikus. Twitter continues to be a yeasty (yes, occasionally wild and even raunchy - thank heavens for the “block” feature!), fast paced and fascinating global town common.
Here are some of the topics which I’ve been following and what I have been Tweeting about recently - all in no more than 140 characters:
The Iranian Elections:
Iranian elections: 80%+ voter turnout - fraud is suspected & Mousavi may be under house arrest! (http://is.gd/112t1) The world is watching!
Hard to get current info on Iranian elections! (Try Huffington Post: http://is.gd/11rxT ) U.S. not accepting results! The world is watching!
Brief, fascinating article in NY Times on #CNNfail & the role Twitter has in Iranians communicating about elections: http://is.gd/11OA1
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s Sunday Speech:
Is it just me or did Netanyahu's description of a disarmed Palestinian State sound like US 1800s policy putting Native Americans on the Rez?
Putting Netanyahu's speech in better perspective & a broader context: http://is.gd/12caB - from @NJDC
Zimbabwe:
President Obama & his administration have not overlooked Zimbabwe! Supports Tsvangirai; chides Mugabe: http://is.gd/12cRT
Of course, I intersperse these political Tweets with comments rooting on the Boston Red Sox or chatting with friends. You can find folks of every possible political stripe, business people marketing their wares, music fans, author groupies and even people who Tweet in haikus. Twitter continues to be a yeasty (yes, occasionally wild and even raunchy - thank heavens for the “block” feature!), fast paced and fascinating global town common.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Family & Fish
Last April, shortly after we returned from Chuck’s father’s memorial service and interment out in Washington state, we recorded a program on the Boston PBS station, WGBH. It was called “The Gefilte Fish Chronicles”. (Perhaps it was the nearness of Dad’s passing, but we just couldn’t watch it until this past week.) It is a very funny, yet deeply moving documentary about one family’s preparations for a Passover Seder. But that sentence doesn’t begin to capture the “behind the scenes” look at three elderly sisters of the Dubroff clan as they clash, kibbitz and kvetch their way through six weeks of food preparation in advance of Pesach.
The Dubroff family is blessedly large and to host a Seder for dozens of people requires enormous quantities of food and many willing hands set to seemingly unending tasks. All of which is done under the leadership of the sisters, who are doing so much more than fulfilling a religious obligation. They are also honoring their parents Abe and Minnie Dubroff in continuing a wonderful family tradition. Their great and enduring gift is the way they have risen to the challenge, year after year and brought the subsequent generations into the mix. Now, they are sharing it with the world.
Chuck put it best when he wrote:
“We laughed.
We cried.
We got hungry.
We ordered the DVD and the cookbook.”
By the way, you don’t have to be Jewish to enjoy “The Gefilte Fish Chronicles”. Dollars to doughnuts, if you come from any ethnic background with strong traditions of family and food - and if the phrase: “That’s how (not how) Mom always did it.” has ever been heard in your kitchen, then you’ll feel right at home with the Dubroffs!
Here’s where you can learn more, watch a brief video clip and order your own copy of “The Gefilte Fish Chronicles” - and the companion cookbook.
The Dubroff family is blessedly large and to host a Seder for dozens of people requires enormous quantities of food and many willing hands set to seemingly unending tasks. All of which is done under the leadership of the sisters, who are doing so much more than fulfilling a religious obligation. They are also honoring their parents Abe and Minnie Dubroff in continuing a wonderful family tradition. Their great and enduring gift is the way they have risen to the challenge, year after year and brought the subsequent generations into the mix. Now, they are sharing it with the world.
Chuck put it best when he wrote:
“We laughed.
We cried.
We got hungry.
We ordered the DVD and the cookbook.”
By the way, you don’t have to be Jewish to enjoy “The Gefilte Fish Chronicles”. Dollars to doughnuts, if you come from any ethnic background with strong traditions of family and food - and if the phrase: “That’s how (not how) Mom always did it.” has ever been heard in your kitchen, then you’ll feel right at home with the Dubroffs!
Here’s where you can learn more, watch a brief video clip and order your own copy of “The Gefilte Fish Chronicles” - and the companion cookbook.
Friday, June 12, 2009
High Cheese
I really like Jerry Remy, the color commentator for the NESN television broadcasts of Boston Red Sox games. And I miss Jerry ever since he took a leave of absence to more fully recuperate from lung cancer surgery and some subsequent infections. Selfishly, I was worried about what the broadcasts would be like with a string of substitute co-hosts joining play-by-play guy Don Orsillo in the booth. But it has turned out great. Two former Red Sox players Dave Roberts and Dennis Eckersley, along with a few other broadcast veterans, have filled in for Jerry. Each one has his own style and has managed to be both informative and entertaining. Miraculously, none of them have been annoying; none of them have been cringe inducing or had that fingernails-on-a-blackboard quality about their on-air performance. (All of which puts the miserable baseball broadcasters over at ESPN and Fox Sports into sharp relief!)
My personal favorite has turned out to be Dennis Eckersley. “Eck” is a colorful guy. His grammar and syntax occasionally require a road map, but it’s his creative, inside-baseball lingo which leaves us charmed and chuckling. Eck was a pitcher and has innumerable ways to describe a pitch - my personal favorites: “high cheese” (an excellent fastball) and “salad” (bad pitching)*! He also speaks his mind giving frank opinions about players - both Red Sox and opposing players - but he is never mean spirited. Mind you, Eck doesn’t have much of a governor and has been caught swearing and stumbling through the occasional awkward malapropism. No matter, he’s a breath of fresh air. I wish Jerry Remy all the best, especially a swift and complete recovery. But he can rest assured, the Red Sox color commentary is in good and very interesting hands.
*Here’s a link to a good Eck Glossary.
My personal favorite has turned out to be Dennis Eckersley. “Eck” is a colorful guy. His grammar and syntax occasionally require a road map, but it’s his creative, inside-baseball lingo which leaves us charmed and chuckling. Eck was a pitcher and has innumerable ways to describe a pitch - my personal favorites: “high cheese” (an excellent fastball) and “salad” (bad pitching)*! He also speaks his mind giving frank opinions about players - both Red Sox and opposing players - but he is never mean spirited. Mind you, Eck doesn’t have much of a governor and has been caught swearing and stumbling through the occasional awkward malapropism. No matter, he’s a breath of fresh air. I wish Jerry Remy all the best, especially a swift and complete recovery. But he can rest assured, the Red Sox color commentary is in good and very interesting hands.
*Here’s a link to a good Eck Glossary.
Party Planning
So we were visiting with my Mom in Rhode Island. She had an appointment with the ophthalmologist and we provided the jitney service, because they needed to put drops in her eyes which makes driving challenging. After the doctor’s visit we stopped for lunch at a place in East Greenwich called T’s Restaurant. The decor was charming and artistic. The service was prompt and friendly. The food was pretty good. Happily, Mom really enjoyed her sandwich and the side of cole slaw. As we were leaving, we were looking at some of the paintings in the lobby. Chuck and Mom stopped at a table which had some information, including take out menus and a catering menu.
I don’t have to type anything else do I?
Yup. It was just a split second before Mom suggested we consider having T’s cater her post-funeral get-together - which we have now officially named “Mom’s wing-ding”! We were all laughing and then she asked me to read off some of the catering menu selections. I did. At which point Mom proceeded to either nod approvingly or scrunch up her face in disdain as I listed off the myriad choices. Lord love a duck, she really does enjoy planning the party she will be the guest of honor at, yet never attend!
I don’t have to type anything else do I?
Yup. It was just a split second before Mom suggested we consider having T’s cater her post-funeral get-together - which we have now officially named “Mom’s wing-ding”! We were all laughing and then she asked me to read off some of the catering menu selections. I did. At which point Mom proceeded to either nod approvingly or scrunch up her face in disdain as I listed off the myriad choices. Lord love a duck, she really does enjoy planning the party she will be the guest of honor at, yet never attend!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
“Solemn Remembrance”
President Obama has released a statement on this afternoon’s terrible shooting at the United States Holocaust Museum, in which a security guard was killed.
"I am shocked and saddened by today’s shooting at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum. This outrageous act reminds us that we must remain vigilant against anti-Semitism and prejudice in all its forms. No American institution is more important to this effort than the Holocaust Museum, and no act of violence will diminish our determination to honor those who were lost by building a more peaceful and tolerant world.
Today, we have lost a courageous security guard who stood watch at this place of solemn remembrance. My thoughts and prayers are with his family and friends in this painful time."
We extend our sympathies to the family and friends of Officer Stephen Tyrone Johns, who gave his life in the line of duty.
We must stand up to hate.
We must work toward peace and justice.
Three places which do such good and honorable work are:
The United States Holocaust Museum
The Southern Poverty Law Center
The Simon Wiesenthal Center
"I am shocked and saddened by today’s shooting at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum. This outrageous act reminds us that we must remain vigilant against anti-Semitism and prejudice in all its forms. No American institution is more important to this effort than the Holocaust Museum, and no act of violence will diminish our determination to honor those who were lost by building a more peaceful and tolerant world.
Today, we have lost a courageous security guard who stood watch at this place of solemn remembrance. My thoughts and prayers are with his family and friends in this painful time."
We extend our sympathies to the family and friends of Officer Stephen Tyrone Johns, who gave his life in the line of duty.
We must stand up to hate.
We must work toward peace and justice.
Three places which do such good and honorable work are:
The United States Holocaust Museum
The Southern Poverty Law Center
The Simon Wiesenthal Center
Monday, June 8, 2009
To Clarify
Leaving the ballpark before the game has ended just to try to beat traffic is a sin. If your team, specifically the Boston Red Sox, is ahead and you get up to leave, it is a venial sin. However, if you get up to leave the park, for any reason other than a life threatening medical emergency, while the Red Sox are trailing, it is, in fact, a mortal sin.
So behave yourself.
Or plan your Hail Marys, Our Fathers and fiery afterlife accordingly.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Do A Happy Dance With Her!
Happy Birthday Morgan!
Morgan’s’s birthday is Monday. But because this DancingMouse lives in Australia, it already is Monday there and therefore time for good wishes, now!
Morgan’s’s birthday is Monday. But because this DancingMouse lives in Australia, it already is Monday there and therefore time for good wishes, now!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
I’m Honored
Genealogist, photographer and mensch George Geder has awarded me the Janice Brown Puckerbrush Award of Excellence. The explanation of this award which he shared on his blog is indeed humbling. Pink Granite is wide ranging and not a blog devoted exclusively to genealogy. But my relationship to those who came before me informs every aspect of my life, including PG.
Thank you George. Thank you for inspiring me and continuing to raise the bar!
Friday, June 5, 2009
Two Xs
I’ll keep this brief.
On this day, as I have been on so, so many other days, over more decades than I care to count, I am grateful for these.
And, just a few months before my fiftieth birthday last year, I learned that there was no law, no proscription requiring this prescription to be cycled three-one-three-one-three-one ad infinitum. I already was profoundly grateful because, after the dream of children had passed, that prescription and two compassionate doctors saved me from undesirable surgery. But the freedom from that incessant and onerous pattern - however briefly it shall be true for me - has been a Godsend.
I promised I would keep it brief.
On this day, as I have been on so, so many other days, over more decades than I care to count, I am grateful for these.
And, just a few months before my fiftieth birthday last year, I learned that there was no law, no proscription requiring this prescription to be cycled three-one-three-one-three-one ad infinitum. I already was profoundly grateful because, after the dream of children had passed, that prescription and two compassionate doctors saved me from undesirable surgery. But the freedom from that incessant and onerous pattern - however briefly it shall be true for me - has been a Godsend.
I promised I would keep it brief.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
And New Hampshire Makes Six!
The state of New Hampshire became the fifth state out of the six New England states and the sixth state in the United States (including Iowa) to legalize same sex marriage. This leaves Rhode Island as the only state in New England where same sex marriage is still illegal. California had legalized same sex marriage but it was overturned in November via Proposition 8.
Perhaps the most transformative aspect of living in a state where same sex marriage was legalized May 17, 2004 is that the sky did not fall. None of the dire predictions and specious arguments made by the opponents came to pass - in particular the idea that allowing same sex couples to marry would undermine “traditional” marriage between a man and a woman. It didn’t happen. And that wonderful, ho hum normalcy has been one of the most powerful arguments in favor of marriage equality.
Perhaps the most transformative aspect of living in a state where same sex marriage was legalized May 17, 2004 is that the sky did not fall. None of the dire predictions and specious arguments made by the opponents came to pass - in particular the idea that allowing same sex couples to marry would undermine “traditional” marriage between a man and a woman. It didn’t happen. And that wonderful, ho hum normalcy has been one of the most powerful arguments in favor of marriage equality.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Just For Fun
In Adobe Photoshop CS3 I made an 11 x 8.5 piece of paper. Using the Paint Bucket tool I filled it with yellow. Then I duplicated that yellow layer. On the new top yellow layer I made stripes. (I was going for high contrast not great beauty!) I used the Rectangular Marquee tool and filled each strip using the Paint Bucket tool.
Then on that striped layer I applied Filter > Liquify (Brush size 300, Density 50, Pressure 100). I glided back and forth horizontally with the brush, as if I was dragging my finger through wet paint. When I was done, I clicked OK.
To play a little bit more, I went back in via Filter > Liquify (Brush size 300, Density 50, Pressure 100). This time I glided back and forth vertically with the brush. When I was done I clicked OK.
The reason I duplicated that very first bottom yellow paper is because when you drag the paint around using Liquify, you actually pull it away from the edges. Having the plain yellow paper underneath fills in those gaps in color.
I can imagine creating digital papers which replicate the marbled effect of starch papers used on the endpapers inside the covers of antique books.
Have fun!
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Confidence
It’s an Allium, but I have no earthly idea exactly which variety (probably Chives - Allium schoenoprasum). There are a gazillion and one species of Allium. I didn’t plant it. I inherited it or, more precisely, it conveyed with the property almost sixteen years ago. Nestled in at the feet of the Milkweed, neighbored by Celandine, up against the south facing side of the barn, they emerge each spring so suddenly that they always surprise us. Never seeming to be intimidated by stories of their hybridized giganteum cousins, these lilac starbursts throw off their papery shells, confident that they are just as worthy as any hothouse Rose to grace a bouquet or corsage.
Monday, June 1, 2009
I Didn’t Recognize Them
Several summers ago, I was in the living room one morning when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something pass by the window. I looked quickly but nothing seemed amiss. Then our English Springer Spaniel, Paddy, (of blessed memory) began to bark furiously and raced toward the same window. A herd of Holstein cows was trotting through the garden, up the hill, through the dooryard and down the driveway!
What to do? Well, they were coming from the opposite direction from where a neighbor’s cows often got out. Had they been those cows, I would have known to head outside and begin herding them back home, using a cornstalk or branch to wave them along. But this was a much bigger herd. It’s a small town so I figured I would call the police. I did. As soon as I described my location and the direction the cows had come from, the dispatcher had a pretty good idea who the cows belonged to. This neighbor, who lives on the far side of a hill to our north, had similar problems in the past. But the cows had never before gotten quite this far. This time they went for a pleasant stroll through many acres of woods - up hill and down dale as it were - and then crossed the stone wall on our northern boundary, traipsed through our four and a half acres and were headed up the road - to visit the other oft wandering herd perhaps?
Well, everything was soon sorted out. All the cows were rounded up and none were the worse for wear after their outing. Late that afternoon, Paddy began to bark again as a huge pick up truck drove up the driveway and parked outside the kitchen door. An impressively, nay imposingly, tall, burly man stepped out and introduced himself. He was our town’s Fence Viewer. He was there to see if the visiting cows had done any damage to our property, our land or even the vegetable garden. I reported that all was well. He asked many questions, wanting to be absolutely certain that no disgruntlement would fester into a grudge and cause problems later. I was finally able to reassure him and he stepped back into the enormous truck and drove off.
Just another day in the country...
What to do? Well, they were coming from the opposite direction from where a neighbor’s cows often got out. Had they been those cows, I would have known to head outside and begin herding them back home, using a cornstalk or branch to wave them along. But this was a much bigger herd. It’s a small town so I figured I would call the police. I did. As soon as I described my location and the direction the cows had come from, the dispatcher had a pretty good idea who the cows belonged to. This neighbor, who lives on the far side of a hill to our north, had similar problems in the past. But the cows had never before gotten quite this far. This time they went for a pleasant stroll through many acres of woods - up hill and down dale as it were - and then crossed the stone wall on our northern boundary, traipsed through our four and a half acres and were headed up the road - to visit the other oft wandering herd perhaps?
Well, everything was soon sorted out. All the cows were rounded up and none were the worse for wear after their outing. Late that afternoon, Paddy began to bark again as a huge pick up truck drove up the driveway and parked outside the kitchen door. An impressively, nay imposingly, tall, burly man stepped out and introduced himself. He was our town’s Fence Viewer. He was there to see if the visiting cows had done any damage to our property, our land or even the vegetable garden. I reported that all was well. He asked many questions, wanting to be absolutely certain that no disgruntlement would fester into a grudge and cause problems later. I was finally able to reassure him and he stepped back into the enormous truck and drove off.
Just another day in the country...
We Must Continue To Speak Up
In light of yesterday’s assassination of Dr. George Tiller, I felt compelled to re-post my statement on abortion.
- I wish, that from this moment on, no woman would ever have to make the decision to have an abortion.
- I wish contraceptives, including the morning after pill, would always be readily available to all women.
- I wish that all young people would be taught age appropriate sex and health education.
- I wish that all young people would be taught that abstinence is a legitimate choice, at the same time they get clear information about all forms of contraception.
- And I wish that abortion would always be safe and legal and available to all women.
- I wish, that from this moment on, no woman would ever have to make the decision to have an abortion.
- I wish contraceptives, including the morning after pill, would always be readily available to all women.
- I wish that all young people would be taught age appropriate sex and health education.
- I wish that all young people would be taught that abstinence is a legitimate choice, at the same time they get clear information about all forms of contraception.
- And I wish that abortion would always be safe and legal and available to all women.
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