Doctor of Thinkology

When Thinking Doesn't Count

2010-04-03T09:14:00.004-04:00

Charles Blow writes today in the New York Times about head versus "heart."

This underscores the current fight for the soul of this country. It’s not just a tug of war between left and right. It’s a struggle between the mind and the heart, between evidence and emotions, between reason and anger, between what we know and what we believe.

This conflict was captured in a tit-for-tat between Obama and Rush Limbaugh. In an interview with CBS this week, Obama complained about the “vitriol” coming from the likes of Limbaugh: “I think the vast majority of Americans know that we’re trying hard, that I want what’s best for the country.”

Limbaugh shot back on Friday, “I and most Americans do not believe President Obama is trying to do what’s best for the country.”

And there it was. Obama’s language focused on what people “know,” or should know. He seems to find comfort in the empirical nature of knowledge. It’s logical. Limbaugh’s language focused on what he thinks people “believe.” Beliefs are a more complicated blend of facts, or lies, and faith. And, they can exist beyond the realm of the rational.

And this is the part where I get really scared.

You see, I am a thinking person. I will look at facts. I will look at data. I will follow the trail. If I am worried about the provisions in the health care bill, I will read them for myself. And, I will change my mind when I am wrong.

Here's the scary part. There are many--and truly not all--people who are strongly against health care (really insurance) reform who are just making stuff up. These people are making stuff up all the time. They are in an alternative reality. Where birth certificates from a sovereign state are suspect and there is a great and evil communist-nazi conspiracy.

And the left, we are going with logic. And facts. And thoughtful arguments. If people only understood--the President seems to be saying--they would support.

They have the boogie man. Boogie man wins over thinking man.

Keep an eye on the elections. Thinking people need a new strategy.

Thinking The New Year

2009-01-04T12:22:00.004-05:00

I was lucky to click through to a good post by Stowe Boyd on resolving to be the best you. It's called "Nature or Nurture In Social Networking" [not a compelling title to me], but what makes it important to my thinkings it that it reminds me that we make our own heaven or hell. [Even though he says that we don't.]

In doing a good job of synthesizing recent research on happiness in social networks, Boyd also points up a few resolution/techniques that can help us (read ME) do something to make ourselves happier. [See this is the irony in him saying that our happiness is not within our own control and then giving some steps that ARE in our control. Still, it works for me.]

Resolve to surround yourself with people who are actively involved with activities and behaviors you want to do more of.
Avoid people who are involved with activities and behaviors you want to do less of.
When in contact with people who want to emulate you, be aware that you have this sort of impact on them. --from Stowe Boyd

I was thinking, is depression contagious? I now recognize that I have spent the last two years living with and loving people with depression. Can this be having an effect on my own natural optimism?

Optimists think that they can fix it. Depression isn't "fixable" in a traditional pull-yourself-out-of-it kind of way. And when you love somebody, it doesn't do you any good to resolve to avoid them because their negativity is contagious.

On the other hand, could my optimism help my social network feel more optimistic? I choose to think so--especially since I have no intention of removing the nodes with depression from my network.

Glass definitely half-full. Game on!

The People's Choice

2009-01-02T18:21:00.005-05:00

OMG! News flash!

Conservatives are WORRIED! Distraught, I tell you.

Perhaps even SHOCKED, that they disagree with Obama's cabinet picks and/or his policies. And somehow, once they wake up, that the 66,882,230 people who voted for Obama are not going to be happy.

According to the WashPost

"It is disturbing," said Roger Clegg, a conservative..."The transition team as described to me was made up of nothing but people on the far left. Though Obama is more moderate, that makes you wonder what kind of advice the president is given, and what range of choices he'll be given when it comes time to make appointments."

Oh no! Nothing but people that disagree with the current failed policies of the Bush administration.

Note to Mr. Clegg: Your side LOST!

A few months into the Bush presidency--you know the election when Bush lost the popular vote* and then came in running the place like he had a frickin' mandate-- I saw my friend David at the local bar and grill.

David: You know, I never, ever got the hatred and bile that people had for Bill Clinton.
Me: There was alot of hate and bile.
David: Yeah, there was. But now I get it. I really can't stand the "W." I now know how the other side feels.

Reminder to the other side--this is what it feels like.

Except that this new Prez-elect actually thinks it's important to listen and acknowledge differences. That this new Prez-elect understands that he is a member of our national government, that was founded in 1776--that it did just not pop out of his head. And that this Prez-elect is the leader of a movement that has been embraced by the majority of the American voters.

Like in a democracy.

'Nuff said.

*BTW--50,456,002 people voted for G.W. Bush in 2000. That's more than a half-million fewer than voted for Al Gore. See more.

Portrait of A Thug As A Young Man

2008-12-13T00:07:00.005-05:00

Yes, here is the Foreman High School class of '75 photo of that thug-Governor of Illinios, Rod Blagojevich. He really is the worst of the worst of political corruption. Creepy.

I look at this guy's picture and I can almost hear him say "the Senate seat is a f-ing valuable thing, you just don’t give it away for nothing.”

And what an idiot. Knowing he is under investigation he still can't keep his mouth shut and spouts this crap over the phone? First-class stupidity or supreme arrogance? Oy! How do we elect such people? Oops! Almost forgot, being smart works against candidates for a part of the electorate.

I hope that Bluto / Blago goes to jail soon.

Colin Powell for Secretary of Education

2008-11-30T22:00:00.000-05:00

Look at this picture.

What do you see? I see some little kids who are really, really excited to see the next President of the United States. Their fresh, smiling faces are full of hope.

I want each of these kids to read great books and newspapers, make informed decisions, vote and be responsible for themselves and each other. I want them to go to college, to get good jobs and to always be as happy as they look here.

Prez-elect Obama demonstrates that being smart can be cool--book smart is cool, too. He shows that these kids can be true to themselves AND do well in school and that getting an education is not selling-out.

The Prez-elect can bring this message all the way home by appointing former Secretary of State and Chair of the Joint Chiefs Colin Powell as his Secretary of Education.

It would elevate education to a top-tier department by virtue of General Powell's star power. You take a high-wattage leader and it shines on the entire department.
Powell has been working on youth issues since he founded the America's Promise Alliance in 1997--including efforts to prevent students dropping out of high-school.
Powell's pragmatism, commitment to public service and leadership certainly makes sense in an Obama administration.
Powell, too, has a compelling story--a Harlem native who became the first ROTC officer to chair the Joint Chiefs and counselor to four presidents.

Powell gains from this, too.

When he endorsed Obama, Powell said, "I think the American people and the gentlemen running for president will have to, early on, focus on education more than we have seen in the campaign so far." Being Ed. Secretary lets him put his money where his mouth is. Last, joining the cabinet would aid in rehabilitating Powell's reputation. To be honest, he's still dirty from the run up to the Iraq War. A high profile gig at Ed would be a great bookend to his public service.

I saw the picture above, and fell in love with each of those kids. And I want them to have every opportunity to be great people and great Americans. Let's put a star at Ed.

Giving Thanks

2008-11-27T15:03:00.006-05:00

I have been quite a laggard in postings. My apologies to my loyal reader. As the turkey roasts, I am thinking about the thanks I am giving.

I am thankful that the 17-year-old hooked me up with my new favorite band. Great music to prep Thanksgiving Dinner by.
I am thankful that the Spouse has cooked dinner pretty much every night since September 15. AND has done the dishes, too.
I am thankful that the 14-year-old has introduced me to the FIERCE sport of wrasslin'. Little girls cried during the last meet. Fierce, I tell you.
I am thankful for working in the Bush administration. Without those guys, I would have never learned new levels of tolerance--and never loved so many Republicans. Yes, they are people, too.
I am thankful that we have good health insurance, didn't get dumb in the mortgage market, live within our means and have stable jobs. I pray that the new guys--with our help--make changes so that more people can give this set of thanks next year.
I am thankful for Facebook. Sounds dumb, but it's like living in a far-flung dorm--low pressure way to be in the lives of people you care about. (Sibling, get on the stick!)
I am thankful that my mother is a fighter. She has been in rehab 3 times over the past year, after a fall, a broken ankle, and then major GI surgery. Each time we worried that she might be too tired to push her 85-year-self through rehab. And each time she proves us wrong.
I am thankful that I have the best spouse, kids and dog in the whole wide world. Bar none. No one can dispute this. Don't even try.

And I am thankful to you, my loyal reader. I write this mostly for me, but am thankful that you take some of your time to think with me.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Who Wasn't On Stage With Obama and Should Have Been?

2008-11-08T21:40:00.002-05:00

Steve Clemons is right to question the optics of President-elect Obama's first presser. It's not that the folks on the stage don't have experience and know-how, but they are of the past. And the guy that I voted for said that we were no longer going to be shackled to the past. The same way of doing things.

Many folks on the stage are the guys who thought the tweaking of monetary policy and the cooling of inflation were the answer to long-term prosperity. The same guys who supported a President who during the dot-com bubble said that economic cycles don't apply anymore. Remember irrational exuberance?

Well, the housing bubble replaced the dot-com bubble. But a quick view shows a commonality. Both bubbles were based on paper and pushing paper around to create the illusion of wealth. Especially for the people holding the paper.

We need to look at our economy and remember that we need to make things of *VALUE.* That's why I am so excited about Prez-elect Obama's green energy initiative. Creating new forms of energy is a thing of value. That's what will make a strong economy. And some new thinking.

We Are The Change

2008-11-04T23:12:00.004-05:00

Tonight marks the end of the baby-boom.

The baton is being passed to a new leader for whom flower power is not part of his memory. He will help lead us into the future. The one that we don't know yet. But the one that we need to work on together.

Not Red States. Not Blue States. But the United States.

I am waiting for President-elect Obama's speech. The speech that I never thought I would hear. But the one that I was hoping to hear. I have to be out of the house extra early tomorrow, but I am waiting up to see the start of our future.

What's A Hero?

2008-10-26T21:06:00.005-04:00

I was really mad at Hiro last week. I mean how could he kill his best friend without feeling and without regret? He did not hestitate. He took a sword and stabbed his friend--the one who loved him. To prove he is a "badass." Just to save the world, and all.

I think it must be a huge burden to be a hero. To feel like you need to save the world. Or to know that the world will not survive without you. You are required to do really awful things, make extraordinary personal sacrifices. Not just once, but many times.

And as this election is winding down, I am thinking of the hero John McCain. People are mourning the disappearance of the "real" John McCain. The driver of the Straight Talk Express. The man willing to sacrifice his political career--even his presidential hopes--for the right thing. Like comprehensive immigration reform that almost killed his campaign. And everyone knows the incredible sacrifices that McCain made as a navy pilot in Viet Nam. People say that they would have voted for THAT McCain.

But I don't think that is fair. John McCain had an uphill battle in an environment made for the Democratic nominee. And in order to be a hero, in order to serve his country and help steer the country in the right direction, he has made some tough decisions. Not without feeling. And likely not without regret. Just to save the world, and all.

McCain has the burden of the hero. I don't think for one minute that it's easy. Thanks Senator McCain.

A Rose By Any Name

2008-10-20T22:31:00.008-04:00

General Colin Powell announced that he was going to vote for Barack Obama, and it's all the twitter. Calling Obama "transformational" and his own Republican Party "narrower and narrower," Powell lent the considerable heft of the former general, chair of the Joint Chiefs and Secretary of State to the candidate that some have said was too inexperienced and lacked judgement.

But this was not the most important thing he did on Meet the Press.

I think that the most important thing that he did was call out the members of his own party who find the practice of Islam a disqualification for the presidency.

I cringe every time someone denies that Barack Obama is Muslim. It goes like this.

"Obama is a Muslim"

"No, he's not," said like there is something wrong being Muslim.

Imagine saying there is something wrong with being Catholic, or Jewish. Or think about when you hear boys say, "You are such a girl" as if it's an insult to be a girl--like their mother, like my mother or my sister. Making who people are synonymous with "you are bad" or "you are a dirty, filthy mother****in' terrorist" is simply WRONG.

When General Powell told the story of Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan, a twenty year old native of New Jersey who made the ultimate sacrifice of a soldier in Iraq, he reminded us of the best in Americans. And in doing so, called on us all to be the best Americans we can be.

So, we should all learn the name of Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan. He is a hero. An American hero. And we should all learn that we can be heroes, too.

Yes we can.

Interviews and Debates and Speeches, Oh My!

2008-10-04T14:53:00.007-04:00

Somebody needs to remind Alaska's Governor Palin about the differences between an interview, a debate and a speech. Oh, well doggone it, I'll do it.

Interview: This is a format in which a reporter asks questions and the interviewee answers them. The interviewee--in this case you, Gov. Palin--doesn't get to choose the questions. That would be more like a town hall or Ask the WhiteHouse as hosted by the White House. Sometimes the questions might be a surprise and sometimes if you don't answer the question or you try to "pivot," the reporter tries to pin you down with a follow-up question. The reporter gets paid to get to new information. You shouldn't be annoyed when they do their job and follow the structure of a standard interview rather than a Speech (see below).

Debate: Here is another one where the format is already known. In political debates, the first thing that happens is that there is alot of negotiations regarding whether the debators (the candidates) sit or stand, limits on time and engagement, and even topics. The campaigns also decide on debate moderators. All this happens weeks before your preparation begins. So, it's important to know what the rules are in order to know what to expect, but since your team is part of making the rules, it's easy enough to find out.

During the debate, what happens is the moderator asks some questions, and you respond to those questions. It's perfectly okay to direct your response to the pre-scripted talking points that you wish to cover. Everyone does that. It is not so okay, however, to say "And I may not answer the questions that either the moderator or you want to hear, but I'm going to talk straight to the American people." When you talk straight to the American people in an unfiltered way, that is called a Speech (see below) not a Debate.

Speech: This is when you get to say whatever you want, for as long as you want, to the audience that you want. You can take questions, or not. But remember, not every exchange when you speak to the public is a Speech. You have been doing mostly speeches, so dagnabbit, maybe you forgot what happens in other venues, see Interview and Debate above.

Last reminder Gov., you're not in Wasilla anymore.

Hardest on the Ones We Love

2008-09-28T22:44:00.002-04:00

In high school, my friend Jenny was mortifyingly embarrassed of her mom. Jenny would yell if her mom spoke to me. "Nobody cares what you say!" She would bad mouth her mother to me--her stupidities, her clothes, her hair.

I always thought this odd. Jenny's mom was nice to me, and always let Jenny take the car. She wasn't rude or dirty or inappropriate (we didn't use the word inappropriate back in those days, but she wasn't). But Jenny knew her mom as a stupid old woman. Who reflected poorly on her.

Progressives who think Obama "lost" Friday's debate remind me of Jenny. Familiarity makes them overly-sensitive to any potential misstep--not aggressive enough, should have hit harder, McCain didn't implode so if Obama didn't hit it out of the park he did poorly.

Here's the thing, Obama has run a very good campaign so far. And his campaign knows that he doesn't have to convince his supporters. He needs to work on the undecideds. The people who have just tuned into the election process.

Newly engaged undecideds and independents see the candidates freshly. They are checking out and evaluating the men that they are seeing now. And trying them on for President. That's who Obama is trying to win over.

Those of us who have been engaged from Iowa see different candidates. I hope Jenny made up with her mom.

The Obama Relationship: Why Should We Talk About It?

2008-09-27T11:58:00.002-04:00

This is a screamingly odd endorsement. While I can respect the authors' expertise in family and marriage counseling, I hang my hopes and dreams on the promise of Obama's policies and NOT on having a "storybook romance." How silly.

A president can be a great president even if he has a strained family relationship--Lincoln, FDR. A person can be an exceptional leader even if s/he has a hard time with a spouse. And IT ISN"T IMPORTANT if John McCain curses at his wife or sees her as a brilliant partner. It simply doesn't matter.

Nobody knows what goes on between Michele and Barack behind closed doors. Nobody knows if they have vicious fights or spend days not talking to each other. Nobody knows if she gets angry because he doesn't know what Sasha's homework is. Or because he blew off a social engagement with her family. And that they made up or that it simmers. DOESN"T matter.

Obama does not walk on water. He does not need to be a perfect specimen of a human being. He needs to be an effective leader of the U.S., a cool-headed man who can propel our country forward into this millennium full of challenges like energy, the environment, education and healthcare.

Good for Michele if he picks up his socks or he is sexually attracted to her--but it makes no difference to me.

Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

Rocking The Podium Live from New York

2008-09-15T23:18:00.002-04:00

And what do I think about this?

Frickin' hilarious.

Addicted to Palin

2008-09-07T14:47:00.006-04:00

Okay. I said it. It's the first step. I admit that I have a problem.

I have been thinking about Sarah Palin, reading about Sarah Palin, watching video about Sarah Palin, following convention coverage about Sarah Palin, wrestling with my feelings about Sarah Palin, and trying to figure out what I think about this polarizing newly minted political rockstar.

I can't get her out of my mind, because I am having a hard time making a decision about her and what to think about her.

There is no doubt in my mind that Sarah Palin is qualified to be Vice President.

The qualifications for the vice presidency are the same as those for the presidency. The vice president must be a native-born American of at least 35 years of age who has resided in the United States for at least 14 years. -- Encarta

This means that I, too, am qualified to be Vice President--or President for that matter.

In my obsessive reading, some folks are saying that they have alot in common with Gov. Palin, and since they do NOT think that they are qualified for the job, therefore SHE isn't qualified. Others are happy to have somebody who is "just like me," who will understand and respond to their needs. Next I find myself thinking about why I believe that Brack Obama is qualified to be President.

This gets me thinking about serendipity and timing. Before Obama became a 2008 Presidential candidate, I was wishing that he would wait until the next round. But sometimes circumstances thrust you into a position and you have to grab for the ring. It might not be presented again. And I think that I need to apply that same standard to Palin.

But what about her family?, I was thinking. How could Palin be a mother to babies, young children and teens while being Vice President?

What wrong thinking.

I always thought that I tried hard not to judge other parents and their decisions--whether mom should work or stay home, what role does dad play, is quality time better than quantity time, prudes versus permissives, milk versus ice tea? In our family the mom went back to work when the babies were 9 and 8 weeks old--and still nursed both until they were two. The dad worked part time for the first few years and did main duty. The mom took a new job that entailed alot of domestic travel 4 months before the youngest was born--and she dragged the baby from coast to coast. His first hotel was in Boston at 10 weeks. Good mom? Bad mom? Sometimes. Okay, I think Palin is a fine parent. Her kids look happy (and gorgeous!) and I bet they will survive her parenting and become productive adults. As I pray my kids will survive my own parenting.

But what does parenting have to do with being a "heartbeat away from the Presidency" anyway? Nothing. But the heartbeat away from the Presidency thing is pretty important.

So, I think that Palin is qualified enough. And I think that, as Obama has forcefully and genuinely said, her family needs to be off limits. So that leads me to where I should have been from the beginning--what do I think about her as a potential president, because that's the job she is going for?

I definitely think that she is a shrewd and formidable politician. She has worked hard and appears to spit nails and bring down the hammer on foes. Her rise to the governor's mansion in Juneau is something to be respected and admired. Politics is a tough game, and a young upstart from a small town making it to the top of the heap in Alaska is nothing to shake a stick at. Go Sarah Barracuda!

So now I am returning to her convention speech--what tells me most about who she is and what kind of president she might be, because that's all we got. And this is the source that makes me most uncomfortable about Sarah Palin, and a McCain-Palin presidency.

The speech--well delivered by a confident, accessible, smiling candidate--helped to draw a clear distinction between the choice we have in November. And it isn't about Palin, specifically, but about what her ticket stands for.

Change for them means making a U-turn and going back to the 50's. The speech was very backwards looking, to the "good ole days" of some idyllic and perhaps mythical small town America. Where people are homogeneous (but not homos), where nostalgia and the familiar trump intellectual curiosity, and where we need to run back to the cocoon rather than boldly face the challenges of health care, the environment, education and globalization.

Backwards to when diplomacy means that the U.S.A., U.S.A., U.S.A. (chant it with me like its 1980) plays nuclear games of chicken with our enemies, and globalization means that everyone oversees wants an American car and the imports from Japan are cheesy.

Where small towns are filled with honest, sincere dignified people who are somehow immune to a failing economy, the mortgage crisis, and the false prospect that cutting taxes for the wealthiest will make us all better off, even if that leaves state coffers empty without money for infrastructure projects and public safety (can you say levies?) and with gimmicks to improve education.

When the natural resources of this great planet were seen as infinite, and frontier settlers were the masters, taking whatever they wanted and moving on when the land was depleted or destroyed because it was their right. In contrast to the people already in this country that the settlers displaced. People who were stewards for the land, the water, the air, the animals and plants.

I watched Gov. Palin's speech--and within the context of the Republican Convention--felt like she saw the best times were behind us. Simpler times. Times that needed to be protected from the future.

And her reiteration of wedge issues in the guise of small town values--guns, abortion, creationism--sets up the old "us against them" no-compromise zone. I appreciated Sen. McCain talking about reaching out across differences to make changes during his acceptance speech, but he really didn't advocate anything new. And, if his running mate and others making speeches have their way (as they did with his choice for VP), his calls for pragmatic compromise to resolve tough issues will likely disappear.

I used to work in an academic environment with decisions made by "consensus." What that meant in practice was that anyone could stop an idea by crapping on it. It was a huge challenge to get anything done, make change, see things in a new way, innovate or invent. It was status quo all the time, because there was always someone who knew they could stop change and keep their fiefdoms intact.

So it's really not about Sarah Palin, who is truly a remarkable person on many levels. I don't need to think about her, although she helped me to reconcile some ideas that were vexing me.

It's about the fact that on most issues I absolutely and fundamentally disagree with Sarah Palin and her running mate. And all the distractions that have been fed up by the 24/7 news personalities and Democratic and Republican spinmeisters are just that. Distractions.

So yes, I have been thinking alot about Sarah Palin. And I think that now, I am on the road to recovery.

Bouncing After the Convention

2008-08-31T14:47:00.002-04:00

My favorite part of the convention:

Where did they FIND this guy? Give that person a raise, and put Barney Smith first! What a regular guy. Did a more natural job than many of the professional pols.

I wrote this poem for one of my McCain supporting friends, whose kids have been known to chant Obama around the house.

Your Continued Wrongness

YOU said that Dems (Hillary supporters esp.) should be pissed
cuz your folks keep ginning up that Hill was dissed.
Guess you didn't see your guy McCain was hissed,
and that your other guy, W, won't be missed.

Another dull speech by our guy Kerry,
didn't stop the convention hall from making merry.
And the hatchet by both Hill and Bill was burried,
all the precurssor to the 40 states that Barack will carry!

Yo yo yo, and wait till tonite when in his speech,
Barack Obama will rise up to meet,
another man who wouldn't take his assigned seat
45 years ago even tho the mountaintop he did not reach.

And when the conventions are all done,
and this election is fully run,
Barack Obama will have won.
Mark my words, your daughters will rejoice, Son.

Yeah, not too good, but it's been what I've been thinking about. And it rhymes.

Brand X

2008-08-13T21:17:00.004-04:00

The 16-year-old and I were at the grocery store.

Him: (looking in the cart) What's up with the toilet paper?

Me: Well, we are close to running out and it seems to me it would be a good idea to have some. Just in case. Running out would not be so good.

Him: But you usually get the other kind.

Me: Yeah, but this was on sale, and I don't want to run out. The kind I usually get isn't on sale. I can't wait for the sale.

Him: But you get the red kind. This is purple.

Me: It's perfectly good toilet paper. It's not like it's an off brand.

Him: Using this new kind might cause some reaction.

Me: I seem to be getting some reaction now.

Him: My a** is already itchin'.

Me: Shut up.

Thinking Seems to Have Stopped

2008-08-03T23:09:00.006-04:00

I think that I have been thinking. But I think that my thoughts have been either non-conclusive or circular.

Like the past week's political ad that had the McCain campaign trotting out blonde bimbos and somehow linking them--or at least their celebrity--to Obama. And Paris Hilton's mom didn't appreciate it.

Then there was the coverage about Ludacris's song and somehow that Obama has responsibility for the rapper's lyrics. Hunh? (Nas has a much better joint, anyway.)

Then there was the senior pictures. How did it happen that my first-born posed for his senior pictures. And he looks like a frickin' man.

He has been spending the summer at the pool, lifeguarding. The pool is about as far away from us as some of my friends in the 'burbs can imagine. He is guarding at a pool in Anacostia. Right by here.

One friend said that he would never allow his kid to go to that pool. But he has never been there. And he has not driven past the neat single family homes on those quiet streets. The kids playing with their sweet, funny, goofy pit-bulls in the park next to the pool. He probably hasn't had the chance to see the most beautiful sky in Washington, D.C. as you drive up South Capital Street along the Anacostia River. Crazy clouds lit from behind to your left and the lights from the stadium straight ahead. As you cross over the river, the stadium is on your right, and you look up ahead and there's the Capitol.

Sometimes you have to look close to see what is really there. You might need to look with your own eyes. And sometimes when you look closely, when you dig past the surface, you can really see.

Contrasts In Contrast

2008-07-26T21:43:00.007-04:00

There were two stories in the Post today that got me thinking.

The first was about a student at an "elite" public high school who was expelled for a 2.8 grade point average. Seems pretty crazy to kick out a kid for a B-minus. As I was reading, the reporter led me to believe that this kid probably belonged at the school. I hope everyone, though, read to the end.

[The student] rejected her offers to work with him during lunch or activity periods, saying he was too busy with Model United Nations, sports and the yearbook.

His grades were not the best, but he had great test scores. Seems like he was having motivation issues. His parents said

...their son Matthew has been mistreated. "I believe that the rule is absurd and is doing more harm to our students than good," Liz Nuti said. The parents acknowledge that Matthew has trouble organizing his time. But "he is a happy, healthy, well-rounded child with no vices".

But being happy and health with no vices is not a requirement for the school. Doing really well in math and science is. I am sorry that the kid couldn't get his act together. And even though it's a tough call, he was on notice and it's appropriate that the Fairfax school system is letting him experience the consequences of his actions.

'Cuz not everyone has it so good and easy. You know with dad an engineer, mom an accountant and two older sibs that have blazed the trail for you--and likely greased the wheels so you can get in to a great school. That not everyone can go to. Even if they are smart. Not everyone has alot of chances.

Which is the second article that got stuck in my thinkings. This one is about an incredible young man, Cedric Jennings, who "as a boy clawed out of a Southeast Washington ghetto and over the Ivy gates." And today he is wondering if he is doing enough. He has the weight of the world on his shoulders--a grad of Brown, Harvard and U-Mich--back in D.C. trying to make a difference in people's lives. A social worker. And wondering if he is acting on too small a stage. Is he fulfilling his potential? The expectations?

My heart breaks for this 31-year old man who is still struggling to do the right thing. He is still trying to figure out the best ways to apply his prodigious talent and drive. He knows he is responsible for himself. He knows that his choices and his actions have consequences. He is fighting Peter Parker's battle, "with great power comes great responsibility." He knows this is important.

I wish both the boy and the man in these two contrasting stories peace.

Zip It, Idiot

2008-07-12T16:29:00.004-04:00

Received a text from the Sib late Thursday morning.

Jesse Jackson is an idiot.

Yeah, that seemed to be true. A page 4 story in the Post had alerted me over my morning coffee to what would be the "news" of the day--bigger than the floods (which led the cable news to loop through the same images of water in the streets and not too much in commentary, I mean it was too much water, what's to say?) but a little smaller than Imus (cable-fest big contrast with the old white guy versus young black women with some of the same commentators).

So, we got someone making a disparaging comment about a rival/peer. Makes you kind of hate recordings, because if Jesse had made the comment without the salacious evidence, there would be NO STORY. As it was, it was a non-story that spun and spun and spun until it finally sputtered all over itself.

Colby King from the WaPo got it right this morning when he wrote

The reverend brother was simply fat-mouthing....Jesse Jackson was sitting on the TV set next to a brother talking trash, selling wolf tickets, being verbally aggressive when he knew full well that he wasn't about to do anything but dis Obama (presumably) behind his back.

Hey, that's not news. It's what people do. It's me talking about my boss doing something dumb. Or someone who calls me boss (or parent) talking trash about me. So what. It portends nothing of importance. And that he got "caught" just causes group pain as we relive and rehash, rewind and recoil the non-story.

This fake drama that doesn't improve big city education, provide appropriate medical care for soldiers returning from Iraq or Afghanistan, or help us remember the discussion we almost had after Katrina.

Yeah, Jesse is an idiot, for feeding the idiot media for our idiot consumption.

Wrong Headline, Wrong Story

2008-06-22T21:39:00.005-04:00

In the ongoing effort to make the 2008 Presidential Election all about race and increase readership or ratings or something, today's Washington Post has the inflammatory front page headline "3 In 10 Admit to Race Bias" and chronicles the trouble Barack Obama is having in getting the (play dramatic music) White Vote.

If you read on to paragraph 9 on the second page, you will discover what I found to be news. That is, Democrats running for president have been having trouble with the (play dramatic music) White Vote for the past few election cycles--and according to the article, this trend has been going on since Jimmy Carter ran in 1976.

This is hardly the first time a Democratic candidate has faced such a challenge -- Al Gore lost white voters by 12 points in 2000, and John F. Kerry lost them by 17 points in 2004 -- but it is a significantly larger shortfall than Jimmy Carter or Bill Clinton encountered in their winning campaigns. -- Wash Post

Somehow, though, the Post acts like Obama is having a problem with the (play dramatic music) White Vote because he is black. That's not what I see in the data.

Hey Post, I think that if you actually read your data--to make it easy I made a graph with a trendline--you would agree that the story is either

Dems have been in trouble with white voters for a while, OR
Obama's race doesn't seem to be having much of an impact on the voters--so far.

The Post piece is NOT good thinking.

Ultimate Battles

2008-06-18T22:41:00.005-04:00

"Who would win in a fight? An orange or an avocado?" So the 13-year old began the discussion.

16-year old: Avocado, definitely. Has a pit in the middle--so if they pulverized each other that would be all that was left.
Me: And the orange is just not a' peeling.

Batman or Ironman? >> Ironman.

OK, Jackie Chan or Jet Li? >>> Here an argument ensued. Jackie Chan won out.

Kobe or Michael Jordan? >>> Kobe. But Doctor J would destroy them both.

Urlacher or Shockey? >>> Another toughie, slight edge Urlacher.

Whitney or Beyonce? >>> Whitney definitely tougher, she's a crackhead.

Lupe or Kanye? Definitely Kanye--unless Lupe kicked and pushed. Lupe or Pharrell? Lupe, since he is from Chicago.

Bush vs. Gore? Nod to Gore unless Bush cheated, there is a precedent. Chris Tucker vs. Michael Jackson? MJ for the moonwalk. Superman vs. Flash? Thing vs. Hulk? Godzilla vs. Charizard? Jason Bourne vs. James (Daniel Craig) Bond? Only Bourne could beat Bond. Nobody can beat Bourne. Billy or Mandy?

Special Guest 16-year-old: Naked Brother Band or the Jonas Brothers? >>> ??? critical stop. Where did this one come from?

Everyone laughed.

Trying to Get It Right

2008-06-15T15:43:00.005-04:00

I was speeding up M-39 one year ago, at this time. I was zipping around cars to try and get to St. John Oakland Hospital.

No that's not right.

I was creeping along up the Southfield Freeway. My flight was on time to Detroit, and the Sibs knew that I was on my way. I was really wishing that I had taken the noon flight. I got the call around ten in the morning, but it would have been too close. The next flight was 2:30. Gave me a little more time to deal with the logistics of an out of town spouse and two boys home for summer vaycay.

No that's not right. My dealing with the logistics was: two frantic calls, throwing some clothes in a bag. I specifically packed a jacket. In case I was staying for a funeral.

No, that's not right. There was no "in case." At least that's what my ever-the practical brain knew. Fortunately, the brain was in charge of packing. And the brain was in charge as I was stuck in traffic on the freeway. Between exits 5 and 6, my cell phone rang. And for that split second, the brain lost control of the situation. The heart fumbled for the phone.

The brain grabbed control back and immediately was sorry that the phone was answered. It was the Sibling who had news for me.

No, that's not right. She didn't have news, because I already knew. And I asked her not to tell me. I told her I would be there in about 30 minutes. I didn't need to hear it right this second. I still had time. I wasn't ready, and it would do me no good to know right now. "It can wait," I said. I cried as I crawled up the "express"way.

No, that's not right. My volume was high when I told her I didn't want to know. She felt I had to know right then. I was so angry. I hung up before she could get it all out. I screamed. Then, I cried. I was stuck in traffic, I was all fucking alone in some strange car, in a city that I hate. I couldn't pull over. My eyes stung.

I wasn't so sure where the hospital was. I knew where the other hospital was, but not this one. I drove past it, had to turn around. I went into the lot and parked the car. (I think it was a sliver sedan. A white Charger maybe? Yeah, that was it, the white Charger that failed me.) I went to the desk and asked to see my father.

No, that's not right. I didn't know what to ask. I couldn't see my father in the way you see someone in the hospital. It was more like seeing someone in a morgue. He was dead. So I told the woman at the information desk that I wanted to see my father, and that he was dead, and that he died within the past hour. Where would he--and my family--be?

I went into the ICU and he was there. With my mother and Sib#1. Sib#2 and SpouseOf#2 were in the hall.

No, that's not right. He wasn't there. His body was. And I don't think that he had been there for a few days. So it didn't really matter that I missed seeing him. Traffic didn't matter. The noon flight wouldn't have helped. But what I wanted was that all three of us were with him so he would know that we were all there. All together. All for him. The brain knew that he wouldn't have known. Then brain went to work tending to the tasks at hand. There was alot to do, and this was all new.

No, that's not right. The heart kept trying to poke out from the heavy blanket. It did matter.

No, that's not right. It doesn't matter.

No, that's not right. It does.

No....

Enough Already?

2008-06-14T10:34:00.010-04:00

When is enough enough?

Like why do the Rolling Stones still tour? They are old. Rock and roll should not be performed by the AARP set. Charlie Watts looks like he has no teeth. Keith Richards looks like he has been embalmed. And no matter how good he looks FOR HIS AGE, we don't need to see Mick strut around like a tough rooster. I have heard people say that they want to see them before they die.

Like why did Lucas-Spielberg-Ford do another Indiana Jones flick? Yeah, it was great to see the silhouetted Harrison Ford put on that famous hat, but a weak script, mediocre story and caricatures instead of characters couldn't save this clunker of a movie.

Like what did the final two seasons with the Washington Wizards do for Michael Jordan, the Wizards or basketball? Not a thing. Coming off of his second retirement, His Airness was hurt and his step and shot had lost their zip. He did not take the team to the playoffs or burnish his image.

Like thinking that you should have cheaper gas so you can continue driving your anachronistic SUV--or a Lincoln Mark V? And Detroit, the home of the gas guzzler, wonders why it can't sell cars. Unnecessarily large inefficient vehicles became a bad idea in the 70's, why would anyone be surprised that the reprise would be a repeat?

Like listening exclusively to the oldies station and saying that they don't make decent music anymore. Like complaining that teens on social network sites don't have real relationships. Like trying to recreate your childhood for your children. Like doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.

Me? I still gotta lot to learn. I'm not ready to stand still.

Scottie We Hardly Knew Ye

2008-05-30T15:09:00.010-04:00

What was he thinking? Scott McClellan longtime press punching bag and Bush mouthpiece, that is.

For most of his time in the Press Room, I thought Scott was such a tool (definition 6)--repeatedly mumbling his talking points without any evidence of imagination or art. Maybe if he said the exact phrase seventeen times in a row his interrogators would

Believe him and move on. (As IF!)
Forget their point and move on.
Get bored and move on.
Turn into a field of Budweisers, ripe for the pickin'. Boy a cold one sure would be good right about now. Let's move on!

Then, toward the end of his tenure, I began to feel sorry for him. It must of been around the time when reporters began to openly mock him. And like a weeble, he would get knocked around, wobble, but not fall down. His demeanor changed. He began to look hurt. He seemed like he would rather be anywhere else--inside of an active volcano, for example--than behind that podium.

Scott wasn't quick enough to dodge any of the incoming. He seemed wounded. It was like watching someone getting stoned. (Not like smoking weed stoned, but like "whoever is without sin..." stoned.) His loyalty seemed dopey, yet somehow pure. He was sticking by the man who brought him to Washington.

Now he comes out with his book. And he really gives it to the Bush administration--even the President. So I wonder, "Why?"

Well, one friend, channeling Deep Throat, said to "follow the money." It's true that McClellan will make alot more money on a controversial book, but given the bridges he's burned, h e better invest wisely because he won't be working in communications or PR ever again. (In addition to smashing his political glass house, he made a shambles of the 4th Estate, too!)

Nobody says that Scott is smart, so the easy money motive is a quick fit. But it also seems possible that McClellan did have an epiphany--as well as an axe to grind with Rove and Scooter. Maybe it got to be that the more he thought about what happened, the more he felt he had to take layers of varnish off of the truth. Maybe he was worried for his immortal soul.

And now, in a perfect Karmic turn, all the vitriol that he had giveth is now being returnith to him ten-fold. Does he deserve it? I don't know. Is he doing the right thing? For the right reasons? I don't know. But for some reason, I sure want to figure it out.

Three Things

2008-05-21T21:40:00.007-04:00

First thing, I am over American Idol. It's on now. And I really don't care. Didn't vote once. Missed a bunch of shows. Don't care. Boring. [Like another "news" story on how Hillary doesn't have a shot, but that she still gets coverage like it matters. Ron Paul is still running for the Republican nomination, but he doesn't get airtime. Must be ageism.]

Second thing, I wish I could be Chef Ramsey sometimes. Number one, he is world class in his profession. Number two, he just lets it go in the kitchen. He calls people donkeys because they are acting like donkeys. He tells them--in a forceful fashion--when they are screwing up. If he is disappointed, people know. And then he recognizes excellence in the next breath. I bet he gets hoarse, sometimes. I sure would like to call the donkeys by their real names, sometimes. And yell, sometimes. [Okay, in the non-reality T.V. world, it's not always so good to speak your mind. Unless the campaign is all reality T.V. anyway?]

Third thing, [House spoiler] was too sad for me. I am struck by the calm of people who know they are dying. I used to think that it was a TV or movie drama thing--people looking serene, knowing that their time is almost over. But it really is like that. And we really have to let them go. In TV, though, we can go back to an earlier episode, and the ones we cared about are still there. So, I cried.

Tub Thumping

2008-05-03T18:52:00.008-04:00

"Well Doc, I think this is it."

So said my Loyal Reader, reduced to maybe 80 pounds, her hands looking more like a bird's foot than the hand that held a champagne glass. Her breathing supported by both a tube to her nose and a mask over her mouth wasn't labored, and she apologized for the getup being awkward.

Her blue eyes were ringed indigo and bored straight into mine. "I am glad you came. I wanted to say goodbye."

My Spouse--away in NYC--had called the night before, telling me that she only had a few days left. I felt like I was hit in the stomach. It was dumb to be shocked--she had stage iv colon cancer, prognosis is lousy.

Except she had me totally fooled. She had me convinced that she was going to kick this cancer-thing. Even after she lost the month of August when she was sedated and intubated--she was mad that it took her so long to regain the strength and to relearn to walk. She had been back and forth with chemo and radiation and surgery for two years. She decided that she was going to do whatever she could to get better, and it was working.

I walked in to her postage stamp sized room and saw her kids and husband crowded inside were wearing yellow hospital garb. I retreated as instructed and donned the disposable gown. I clumsily kissed her cheek, then her hand, and then her husband who looked so so so sad. I was thinking about pork roasts at her house and burnt ribs and blue martinis at my house. And my crewe, who earned the reputation of always leaving their house as the last guests, very late.

And then the times when she would tell me to be less cynical (Doc, think!), tell me that the Republicans didn't have it all wrong (she worked for the RNC as a designer--not a believer--long before my foray into a Republican administration), and, most importantly, remind me that when my kids were in trouble that my job was to love them.

She was a good role model. She loved her kids--they had the best birthday parties and halloween costumes. She nurtured their creativity and embraced each of them for who they are. She raised three of the best people I know.

She was my most normal friend--not a D.C. type who was driven in that Washington kind of way. She would sit with me and drink beers at Redskins games while we chattered through 4 quarters of football. What was that score? She would tell me that I did something stupid, or ask me "Why?" when nobody else would.

I am glad that I told her that I love her every time I saw her. I am glad that I told her I love her last week. And I am so glad, and so fortunate, that she loved me.

She asked that we celebrate her life and have a party. I miss her.

Kris, this is for you,

Sticks and Stones II

2008-04-20T14:52:00.006-04:00

Hurry, hurry, hurry. You don't want to be the last of the sappy, hopeful idealists who still believes in the Obama message of hope and unity. Why believe and work for change if cynicism is just around the corner?

Yes, I mean you David Brooks and others who were fawning all over Barack Obama just a few months ago. You were excited about the potential of a transformative leader. About the promise of a post-Bush future tackling issues of today's and tomorrow's America. About breaking from the old liberal/conservative debates from the 60's 70's, and figuring out new solutions and a new coalition of people from left and right for a new, and united, United States.

It's like Cook Hand Luke. The other inmates idolize Luke's bravery--that he challenges the status quo. They egg him on to take risks while sit back to enjoy--and exalt--his strength which gives them hope. When Luke shows that he is just flesh and blood like them, his former fawners show their disappointment with Luke--and with their own cowardice--by turning their backs on him. They won't take the risk, but are excited that he does. And reject him rather than take up the mantle.

It's easier to say that he isn't who we thought he was, rather that to see that we aren't who we wish we were.

Sticks and Stones

2008-04-13T18:27:00.004-04:00

My mother said something unforgivable to my sibling last week.

No, I really mean it. Unforgivable.

At least I couldn't forgive it. But the Sib has forgiven my mother for really bad behaviors in the past.

And this got me thinking about how we communicate, what we say, the context surrounding what we say and what we actually mean.

If someone says something really cruel, really awful but doesn't intent to hurt, is that easier to forgive? I would say, yes.

If someone says something cruel with the intention to hurt someone, is that less forgivable? I would say, yes, again.

If someone is mentally ill, AND says something cruel, both knowing and intending to inflict pain, is that more forgivable? I am thinking, not so much.

If someone is trying to protect themselves and feels that they need to strike out viciously at someone they love, are they sick? Well, Yes.

Does that make it more forgivable? Not for me.

Half the harm that is done in this world is due to people who want to feel important. They don't mean to do harm -- but the harm does not interest them. Or they do not see it, or they justify it because they are absorbed in the endless struggle to think well of themselves. -- T.S. Eliot

If someone says something really mean, and they sincerely are sorry and ask for forgiveness, is that more forgivable? I think so, especially if they were really trying to right the wrong.

If someone says something really mean and never asks for forgiveness, how do you forgive?

No Foul

2008-03-25T21:49:00.004-04:00

During the never-ending "news" stream from the TV, a talking head said that Chelsea Clinton was asked about Monica Lewinsky at an Indiana campaign stop for her mom. Our talk around the TV went like this.

"Awww, that is just not necessary."
"Well, they are pimping her out."
"Yeah, but this is just out of bounds."
"Good for her, she told them it wasn't their business."
"She's a grown woman."
"She was a kid at the time."

It was the protective parent that made me jump to Chelsea's defense. The campaign is not about her personal experiences at such a tough time.

Then, tonight (while watching an another awful American Idol, David Archuleta go home!) I read the coverage only to see that the question was not out of bounds--not a mean question about Chelsea's personal esperience--but about whether Hillary Clinton's credibility was damaged by her comments during the Lewinsky scandal. Not about how Chelsea felt. Not about how her mother and father coped with the scandal. Not about the chill around the White House breakfast table. Now that would be none of our business.

The kid at Butler State in Ind., asked a legitimate question. It was HRC who blamed a "vast right wing conspiracy" for yet another in a string of unfounded accusations against her husband. But turns out it wasn't Clinton enemies, but a fact. The question asked was, what does that say about Hillary's judgment? Now that is our business.

It is uncomfortable for Chelsea to be confronted about the Lewinsky scandal, but really, everyone knows about Bill's thing with the intern, and Chelsea is publicly campaigning for her mom. Not out of bounds.

My Sib texted that my niece saw Chelsea today at one of the Clinton college stops in Ind. My niece reported that there were alot of Obama signs in the audience. That's legitimate, too. But no being mean to Chelsea.

A Race to Race

2008-03-22T10:54:00.004-04:00

So, will Barack Obama's speech on race--you know, the speech he really did not want to have to make --be noted in future histories as a turning point in U.S. race relations? And more importantly, if it is an historical "event," will it be in the context of the election of our first black president or in the context of a failed candidacy that helped to bring an open discussion of race in America?

Too early to tell. Too early to know if this will have any long-term impact. Too early to tell if skittish white-folk will use Rev. Wright as a reason why they can't support Obama. But for the skittish, they would need to find something anyway.

So when Obama offers nuance and context about race in America, does he inadvertently give an out to folks who like to have simple choices laid out in a menu of numbers on the wall? [I'll take the #2 meal, Britney Spears burger, Bill Cosby fries, with a supersize of O.J.?] When there is no easy sound bite--precisely because this is a discussion and NOT a sound bite--can it be heard?

"Only a tiny fraction of Americans will ever see the speech in full. Once it went through the media sausage grinder all you were left with was him failing to disown the pastor," says Michael Munger, political scientist at Duke University and a libertarian. "It showed he is the kind of candidate we should want as president but not the kind we tend to elect." Financial Times

Okay. Maybe I am just a pseudo-intellectual snob. And maybe I just need to learn more about stuff white people like.

And maybe, just maybe, no matter what happens in this upcoming election, we can actually

"...continue the long march of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more prosperous America. [B]ecause [we] believe deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together - unless we perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to move in the same direction - towards a better future for of children and our grandchildren." --Barack Obama

Yeah, like that.

Spitzer is Gross

2008-03-12T23:01:00.003-04:00

We were driving back from rugby practice.

The 16-year-old: I have alot of issues with Spitzer, but the hypocrisy really sticks out.
Me: Yeah. But I keep thinking of his family. Three teenage daughters.
Him: 3?
Me: Yeah.
Him: Oh, man. Like teenage in high-school?
Me: Probably like 18, 16, 14.
Him: No! Well, I know that my dad would NEVER do anything like that so it's not like I would ever be faced with this, but if he did, I would hate him.
Me: No. You wouldn't. You always see everyone's point of view. You would hate what he did, but you wouldn't judge him and blow him off. That's just not what you do.
Him: Yeah, well, it sucks to be me sometimes.

Actually, it might suck to be him, but not to be loved by him.

Friend Request

2008-03-09T14:23:00.006-04:00

Every couple of weeks I send a Facebook friend request to the 16-year old. I just now sent another one.

Me: Hey, did you get my friend request?
Him: I don't know.

or

Me: I sent you another friend request.
Him: I know.

Facebook is an online networking group originally for college students, and then high-school students, to keep in touch. You create a personal page and can send out electronic "friend" requests. "Friends" can send messages, post photos and videos, and add new friends. All from the comfort of your own computer. In 2006, they opened up the floodgates and let even old geezers like me in. That's the problem.

The Post today has front page (don't ask me why) story on "When Mom or Dad Asks to Be a Facebook Friend." And kids, here is the right answer.

JUST SAY NO!

Of course, I am stalking the 16-year old to be my "friend." I'm the parent, that's what I do. But frankly, he should be able to exchange pleasantries--and not so pleasantries--with his peers. And, I AM NOT HIS PEER.

I don't want to be a peer. My role in this show is to be the parent. Part of him growing up means that I don't get to know everything. I don't need to know that there is a group "Get Guy Laid." Really, I don't need to know. And he needs a modicum of privacy.

Okay, I know why we want to know. We want to protect our kids. And wrap them in bubble wrap and keep them germ free. But I also know that that is no way to grow up. The path to adulthood is fraught with danger. That path has got to be traveled, and decisions on which turn to take have to be made by the traveler. Otherwise they can't become adults.

That's really the point of parenthood. We take our precious babes and help them to grow up and leave us behind. From a 7 pound eating-pooping machine to a 6-footer able to make good decisions when he comes home to a broken pipe in the basement. And hopefully when confronted with even harder choices, too.

We succeed when they are successfully independent. Not if they have no bruises. Not if they don't make mistakes. Not if they don't take risks.

By the time they are rejecting our Facebook friend requests, they are working from whatever we gave them. Not like we don't matter anymore, but they are applying the lessons we gave to the ever widening world they live in in high school and in college. We don't need to spy. There are other ways to know your kid.

So yes, I will continue to bug the 16-year old about being my friend. He has 289 to my paltry 19. But I don't need him to be my friend. He is already my son.

And good for me that he doesn't read this. Otherwise, he would never take me seriously.

What Are People Looking For?

2008-02-27T21:24:00.018-05:00

I was poking through Google's toolset and stumbled on Google Trends. Google says that their Trends (in beta) can let you "see what the world is searching for." Among the cool features, you can compare trends on different search terms over time and by region.

So, you can see that U.S. users had a spike in searches for Amy Winehouse, and that Amy tracks higher than Britney. Across the pond, Brits were generally less interested in learning about Amy, and more in Britney.

You can also track the relative popularity of Kanye West and 50 Cent. Fitty famously promised to retire from music if Kanye's CD outsold his on the day they were both released. 50 had more searches than Kanye through most of 2007--until the release of the CDs. Kanye queries killed him on that day, and has been a bit ahead ever since.

So, what about the Democratic contenders?

Well, Hillary Clinton (red line above) was ahead of Barack Obama (blue line) during the long pre-primary season. Interest in both candidates picked up at the end of December, going into the Iowa caucuses. Since then, people have been looking for information about Obama more than info about Clinton--and on some days by much more.

Even more interesting (at least to me) is the regional trending.

By December 2007, Obama (blue) was ahead of Clinton in Iowa, which he won. Clinton (red) was more interesting to people in New Hampshire, and she won there. And South Carolina queries at the end of the year were pretty even for our intrepid candidates. [Obama ended up winning S.C. handily at the end of January.]

Anybody picking up a trend here? It looks like people might be looking for stuff that they are interested in. This can be troubling for the Clinton campaign if you take a look at what people are looking for now in Texas and Ohio.

The Google Trend for the past 30 days sees a large gap between searches for Obama (still the Blue Line) and Clinton (Red Line) in these two key upcoming primary states. Tuesday will tell, but as far as people looking for candidate information, it appears that they are more likely to be seeking information about Obama. Or maybe how to contribute to his campaign. Or how to volunteer. Or who knows. Maybe they already know enough about Clinton.

This Google Trends stuff is so cool. And despite the fact it skews to Internet users--more educated, more white, more wealthy-- it's now the Doc's zeitgeist poll.

Love, FEMA

2008-02-14T21:38:00.003-05:00

So yesterday FEMA said that they would take some of their mobile homes leftover from Katrina to house people who lost their homes in last week's deadly tornadoes in the South.

Today, FEMA and the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) released information of the formaldehyde tests they ran in December and January.

CDC's preliminary evaluation of a scientifically established random sample of 519 travel trailers and mobile homes tested between Dec. 21, 2007 and Jan. 23, 2008 showed average levels of formaldehyde in all units of about 77 parts per billion (ppb). Long-term exposure to levels in this range can be linked to an increased risk of cancer, and as levels rise above this range, there can also be a risk of respiratory illness. These levels are is higher than expected in indoor air, where levels are commonly in the range of 10-20 ppb. (halfway into FEMA's press release.)

FEMA has been kicking the formaldehyde can down the street since September 2006. OSHA came in last May to see if it was safe for FEMA employees. FEMA was working to get people out of the trailers in September 2007, but was acting like it was precautionary rather than necessary.

Now we know that the trailers pose a health risk to their residents. The CDC said so. But does FEMA know that?

Dear Disaster Victims in Tennessee and Arkansas,
Sorry about your losses. We have these great trailers for you to stay in until you get back on your feet. And maybe some swamp land in Florida. Oh, and don't forget to read the warning labels on the trailers.
Love, FEMA

Take Her, Not Me

2008-02-07T21:03:00.000-05:00

Not too far on the heels of my adulthood, I started joking with my folks that they didn't do so bad. I mean the cops never brought us home. Mom and Dad were never called by Officer Krupski to come down to the station to pick us up. Never booked or in a lineup. Maybe not a high bar, but certainly a marker of "not so bad."

Yesterday, the cops came for my mother.

She has been suffering from depression and anxiety since my father died in June. She was sometimes unable to control her anger. It was loud. She was feeling like she couldn't trust people. At the same time she didn't feel that she could trust herself to make decisions--despite being perfectly capable. She wanted someone else to take control. She couldn't stand being out of control. She fell and went into a nursing home for recovery.

The hospital provided an opportunity to address her mental health. Working class people don't seek psychiatric care. Maybe, just maybe, we might see a priest. People who see therapists are weak or can't control their families. And people would find out. There is a stigma. You can take medication for high-blood pressure, but not for debilitating sadness.

In the hospital, my mother started taking medication that made her feel safe to try. She went from saying "I can't" to "I can," from saying "me, me, me, me" to asking about other people, from blaming everyone else to helping other residents learn the ropes of the nursing home.

When she moved into her senior apartment, she was full of hope and potential. She was everyone's favorite, including mine. Phone calls were balanced. When for years she hadn't asked about me or my family, now every member of the family was addressed and caressed. She would talk lovingly about my father, remember to ask about the football game two days ago, and tell me that she felt so close to me when we spoke.

She fell in the grocery store. She was still a little wobbly, but was helping out one of her friends from the apartment by returning her bottles. She was off her meds for the two-plus days in the hospital. In that short time period, us Sibs saw a return of the anxious, self-oriented, suspicious mother. We knew then that the medication was critical to her self-reliance and success. To say nothing of our own selfish needs to have a mother that we liked.

Me: Is it wrong to want her on the medication?
Sib: Better living through chemicals is not a bad thing. Do you think she is happier when she acts unhappy??

About two weeks ago, phone calls became litanies of anger and distrust.

Me: Your mother said, complaint, complaint, complaint.
Sib: Well your mother said, mean thing, mean thing, mean thing.
Me: She was getting so upset.
Sib: She is so hard to talk to now.

Then the light bulb went off. She was going to crash again. And, again, we couldn't do anything to stop it. Only her kids saw her paranoia and anxiety, and that it was getting worse. Monday her doctor did not see any reason to change her meds. She wasn't complaining to him and didn't show any increased agitation. So the train wreck that we were watching was set into motion.

And the cops came for my mother yesterday. And the paramedics. And the ambulance.

And I realized that my mother isn't suffering from being old. She is suffering from mental illness. And I also realized that she has been suffering for decades.

Me: Remember that time when we were like ten, and mom was locked in the bathroom and we were begging her to come out because we were afraid that she might hurt herself?
Sib: And when we would come home from school and she would be screaming at Dad like he was messing around with her sister.
Me: And we were like ten and twelve and we called Auntie to see what really happened? Now that was a family rift.
Sib: And when you moved out, I would come home and she would scream the same scream at me. Like every day?
Me: And we thought she was a bitch. But not like she was sick. Do you think that Dad was masking her behavior? And when he left, there was no one left to shield her?
Sib: And Dad took the brunt of her anger. We saw that.
(Both a question and a statement) She has been very sick for a long time.

So when the cops came, my mother told them to take my sister, not her. Her daughter was the bad guy. But the professionals could see that there wasn't a bad guy in the room. Just someone very sick. And someone watching her mother get strapped onto the stretcher who was very sad.

Spirit of the Law

2008-01-29T22:04:00.000-05:00

You parents out there. You know how your kids can be barristers? You know how they can parse words when it suits them? Like:

Me: I said no online games.
Him: Well, actually you said that you hate online shooting games, and this isn't a shooting game.
OR

Me: Homework needs to be done before goofing around.
Him: Well, I did finish my homework. I just didn't show my work, and I didn't understand problems 3-18, and I didn't bring home my social studies so how could I read it?
OR

Her: I am having a fundraiser-not campaigning.

In our community (okay, in my house), I don't accept parsing of words to get around the intent of the agreement. The boys know the right thing to do, and I am not going to have an esoteric argument because I didn't cover every possible variation of circumstance. Especially the stretch of circumstance which would allow the child to do what he wanted to do DESPITE the fact that it had been disallowed.

The point is: You know better.

Rose Colored Endorsement?

2008-01-27T22:22:00.000-05:00

I agree with Steve Clemons that JFK had a much more complex presidency and, following on that, a more complex legacy than is commonly recalled. But JFK's daughter wasn't making a complex argument when she endorsed Obama today.

The idea(l) of Kennedy is one of youth, hope, promise, and responsibility. Almost 50 years later, people still reference Kennedy's call to put a man on the moon and his call to national service with reverence.

JFK called us to be more than we are, to believe in ourselves, to take the gifts of our country and to do good. Ms. Kennedy is evoking the promise of promise in her endorsement of Mr. Obama. She believes he can guide the United States through this century's challenges--terrorism, the disruption of a global economy, the imperative of global warming, and the needs of the least of us.

Frankly, Ms. Kennedy and I are too young to have personal knowledge of the JFK presidency, so we both have to go by what we have been told. But Ms. Kennedy and I are adults now, and through our own lenses we are both looking for inspiration and leadership--not just for ourselves, but also for our children.

By Any Means Necessary

2008-01-26T11:31:00.000-05:00

Four of us were in a car headed for lunch: 0ne very conservative Republican, one Dem-leaning independent, and two pretty consistent Democrats--an Obama supporter and an undecided.

"I don't want them back!"
"I'll vote Republican before voting for HER."
"How can I be friends with you if we fundamentally disagree on stuff like immigration."
"Continually, and LOUDLY, distorting facts --even after the distortion is exposed-- is swiftboating."
"Who has executive experience?"
"Why is that important?"
"I'm voting in the Republican primary. I don't want to make a decision on the Dems."
"I don't want them back!!!!"

I don't get why some folks are so nostalgic for the "good ole days" of the Clinton administration. While in my opinion those eight years were better than Bush I or Bush II, I also think that having both legs amputated is better than dying. This doesn't mean that I am excited by the "losing my legs" option.

I remember my exhilaration sitting on a blanket on the Mall; handing the then 16-month-old Cheerios on a pleasant January day; and oohing and ahhing when the F-16s flew over the Lincoln Memorial and Aretha and Diana sang on the steps for the First Clinton Inaugural Reunion. It was the first time I ever voted for a president who won. It was the first time since I had been in Washington that my side was in charge. It was a day of great hope. (oops, did I say "hope?")

I remember my disgust and discomfort when I had to tell the then 7-year-old that his President was in trouble for telling a big lie. I remember my anger with President Bill for dragging the country through his linguistic histrionics about "that woman" and his definition of the word "is." And I felt, at that time, that no matter how much the opposition wrongly chased the Clintons, no matter how disgusting and irrelevant the never-ending Ken Starr investigation was, he and his wife made a fatal misstep with me by not taking any responsibility for their own actions. It was always someone else's fault. They did what was right. It was a vast right-wing conspiracy causing the President to lie under oath. Or to quote Jake Blues, trying to talk his way out of being executed by a jilted lover, maybe it was "... an earthquake. A terrible flood. Locusts. IT WASN'T MY FAULT, I SWEAR TO GOD."

Based on the past weeks of an increasingly uncontrollable attack-dog Bill, I am getting a bit spun up about who would be in charge and who would be leading the charge in (yet) another Clinton White House. And, I am saddened by the take no prisoners, by any means necessary approach of the Clinton campaign.

So Hillary, go ahead and get after your opponents on the issues--and experience is a legitimate issue. Make it clear how you stand for change and provide a contrast with the other candidates. Show that you care about what is important to "people like me"'s all over the country.

But remember, when you take on the bad-guy tactics of swiftboating, when you distort facts, when you try and shift blame to the media or others, when your old man is out of control acting like an over-indulged child who feels entitled to his own Oompa Loompa, you may end up having softer support in the general election than you need-- potentially grabbing a Democratic defeat from the Bush-43 engineered jaws of victory.

You're likable enough, Hillary. But I am looking for a noble warrior. Fight fair and let the best candidate win.

Cast Away

2008-01-17T20:59:00.000-05:00

Well, I made it to the cast-free zone. It's been 8 weeks since the break, and 7 weeks since the surgery. It's been two paper maiche casts, 3 hard fiberglass casts, an auxiliary cast shoe, and the aircast. It's been two crutches, one crutch and now just an occasional wall to be steadied. It's been one plate and seven screws. It's been 5 visits to the physical therapist and 10-15 more to go.

Good bye cast. Good bye crutches. My still crooked gait is now unaided. My slow roll to the right isn't punctuated by vestiges of trauma. The nick-name "peg-leg" is being replaced by the sarcastic "speedy." And I now have two shoes on my feet, and matching socks. I get to wear clothes without regard to how they fit over the cast.

I am making dinner again, going to the store, washing the dishes, doing a load of laundry and taking an extra up and down the stairs. And when the 13-year-old was screeching some awful "song" in the bathroom, I got up off the couch and walked over to request that he bring it down some decibels. He listens alot better when I make eye contact.

I am getting back to how I used to be. Not all the way--but well on my way.

I won't miss the cast.

Morality in Red White and Blue

2008-01-07T22:17:00.000-05:00

It was November 3rd, 2004. My sister called. And she was pissed.

"I am NOT immoral!" She was emphatic.

"I have morals! I have values! I am not a bad person because I didn't vote for Double-Yoo. What makes THEM think that I am BAD?" She was quite exercised.

She wasn't surprised that her Red State went for Bush--her rustbelt politics were strong but without any foothold in America's grain basket. But she was surprised with the numbing media-mantra about morals and values voters making the difference in 2004.

"Who gave THEM the market on morality?" she cried. She did not feel good about being a Democrat.

Frank Rich wrote in his NYTimes column on Sunday

“	After so many years of fear and loathing, we had almost forgotten what it’s like to feel good about our country. On Thursday night [after the Iowa caucuses], that long-dormant emotion came rushing back, like an old dream that pops out of the deepest recesses of memory, suddenly as clear as light.

What excites so many folks about Obama? He lets my sister feel good--dare I say proud?--to be an American. She can feel hope and a sense of possibility. She can stand up and say, "I am NOT a bad guy. I can love my country, too! And I do."

No matter the eventual nominees, at least for now, many Democrats, Republicans and independents can remove the mantle of irony and cynicism and embrace the best in us all.

Journey of the Hero

2008-01-06T17:17:00.000-05:00

"I've been there. You have no idea what you are stepping into." So Hillary Clinton suggests--especially to Barack Obama.

Some say that Hillary had a Howard Dean moment during the debate last night when she flared about her experience as an agent of change. I don't agree, I think that she directly addressed her record and her frustration that people don't get the fact that it's a trial to be in the White House.

Joseph Campbell, in his well-known theory of the journey of the hero, writes

“	A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man.--The Hero with a Thousand Faces

So you are Hillary Rodham--Yale Law grad, big fish in little pond attorney in Arkansas, and you live in the governor's mansion. You give this comfort and status up to live out a dream in the White House--but deep down you are still wonder how you got here. You have trappings of the middle-class girl in suburban Chicago. And now, the White House?

They make fun of how you look, your old man humiliates you with his philandering, and there are all these rules and protocols that you slip and slide in. And you have trials--health care reform, travel office scandals, dealing with the intrusion of secret service so you can't even have a good fight with your husband. But you are smart, and you prevail.

So, here she is, in true hero mode, bestowing boon on Obama. She warns him that this is not so easy. "It is only for the tried and true. I have walked through the fires, I have lost myself, all in a quest to find myself and return in triumph. It's my turn for the payoff.

I get to be Luke/Leia. I don't want to be Yoda. Why don't you be Han Solo and fly to the next galaxy? On hyper-drive."

Rock the Vote!

2008-01-03T22:29:00.000-05:00

The analysis of the caucus-goers on the WashPost chat tonight, included this exchange.

Q: [What about] the importance of the young vote in this election, especially for Obama's 7 percent lead...Do you believe the young vote will be prominent in the general election?
A: The "entrance poll" says 57% of 18-29 year-olds supported Obama tonight, and that they represented almost one fourth of the caucus attendees. Both are striking figures. Clinton got 11 percent of the young; Edwards 13 percent. If that is a harbinger, then young people can have a huge impact in November.

I get excited to see young voters join in. The biggest impediment to democracy isn't crazy partisanship. The biggest danger is indifference.

Thanks to all the 18-29 year-olds who can change both the demographic and the substance of this next election. It's my future, but it's your future longer.

Go Blue!

2008-01-02T08:18:00.000-05:00

Glad--and relieved--to see the Wolverines win their "bowl" game. I know, it may have been the generic brand cereal bowl, but it's the first time since 2003 that we ended the season on a high note.

The [Wolverines] also carried [retiring Coach Lloyd Carr] to midfield. His players dropped him off and headed straight to the Michigan section for a raucous celebration --AP

Buh-bye, Lloyd. Oh, and Coach, don't let the door hit you on your way out.

Next year, it's Ohio State.

It Is Time

2008-01-01T16:22:00.000-05:00

I swore after the last time that I wasn't going to do it again. And it was easy, too. After a 25/8 (yeah, somehow it even overtook the time space continuum) diet of pundits and plaudits, polls and pans, giggles and gaffes, and insider news that turned out to be flawed, I was done. I gave up my steady diet of political horseracing, the press reporting on itself, and the bubble of Washington, D.C., where you don't have any idea of how the race is shaping up because nobody buys TV or radio time and you don't get even a black and white postcard in the mail. (D.C. is not a politically competitive market--or even important for that matter.)

But over the past few days I was dragged crying into the Edwards' very sad, personal backstory to his political aspirations, shook my head at the Huckabee --"sure this ad is too mean, you can see for yourself"--hucksterism, was surprised by both the George Will and the David Brooks assessment of the Obama "experience" factor, cringed a bit watching Hillary Clinton sharing a wink and a nod as well as her infamous laugh with former Bill Clinton staffer George Stephanopoulos, and was not surprised with reports of McCain's reticence to make a bigger deal of his brave service.

So, I think that I will have to work on moderating my intake. And hope that there will be some big doldrums between February 5th and the Conventions (R, D). At least I hope. Oh, and Happy New Year!

Cautionary Tale

2007-12-29T22:18:00.000-05:00

The NYTimes has a piece today talking about the long-term effects of binge-drinking. To sum it up, binge drinking causes long-term damage that causes even sober rats to

...to stay the course, a diminished capacity for relearning and maladaptive decision-making. --Dec 29., "The Hangover That Lasts"

The author, a psychiatrist, recommends that you NEVER binge drink, but if you do, start after 40. And, if you did binge drink young, exercise can help regenerate those dead brain cells.

Damn, I wish that the President worked out more.

The Coaches

2007-12-22T20:59:00.000-05:00

Football coaches have a hard job. I'm not talking about the football coaches of men. No, I mean the football coaches of MIT (men in training). What an opportunity, and what a responsibility.

If I were a coach of MIT, I would hope that I would remember that the boys are learning the game. And I would hope that I would be a teacher.

I would hope that I would look at all the boys and give everyone who was working hard a chance to contribute.

I would hope that I remembered that this is a developmental process and that I would work hard to try different combinations of players. And I would know all of their names.

I would hope that I would remember that this isn't the the NFL or even the Big 10. And that these boys have futures as lawyers and accountants, electricians and drivers, and husbands and fathers and I am preparing them for their real futures, not the canard of becoming the next multi-million dollar franchise.

And I would know that when a boy gives you his heart, that my job is to handle it like the precious gift that it is. And at the end of the season, I would only have succeeded when I return that gift bigger and stronger than when I received it.

That would be my solemn promise. That is, if I were the coach.

The Officials

2007-12-18T22:26:00.000-05:00

The 13-year-old finished his football season on a game that was absolutely crazy on officiating. We always tell the kids that they just need to play, and not to worry about the referees, and not to dwell on calls, but that last game was tough.

Anyway, I need to get some football thinking off my chest. I thought, though, that I would start with the officials.

Now THAT'S a call. "Giving him the business." And, repeat the down.

Shard Equations

2007-12-02T11:45:00.000-05:00

A shard is something that is broken. And I have been beset by a few breaks that have interrupted my Thinkings.

First, my trusty I-Book conked out on me in mid-November.

Lack of equipment = lack of posting

I figured out that I needed to make an appointment to sidle up to the Mac Genius Bar to figure out how to get AC power to the laptop.*

A funny thing happened Sunday morning on the way to the Genius Bar. I was walking downstairs and missed the last step. I landed on the side of my foot, rather than the regular way. Ouch.

So, after 9 hours in the ER I had instructions to keep the cast dry, to come back on Wednesday for a consult for surgery, and to be careful with my handful of meds.

So,

no computer + much distraction with the bad ankle = no postings

We had a great Thanksgiving (I was off the pain meds and was delighted to partake of "the end of the mint Mojitos" that the Spouse served), and I had a successful surgery last Tuesday night.

But the 16-year old says that I'm beginning to have my own Giuliani-type mantra.

The 16-year-old: There's Giuliani and he's like "9-11, 9-11, 9-11, blah blah 9-11."
Me: furrowed brow
The 16-year-old: And there's like you, "Broken ankle, broken ankle, blah blah, broken ankle"

Doc Think is on hiatus until the I-book gets fixed. Remember

equipment + repaired shards = Thinkings

* For those who think that I didn't do enough troubleshooting, the power supply (PS) appears to work, as the ring lights up when it's plugged in. The IBook doesn't recognize that it's getting juice, either with or without the battery. The battery died--and power was gone--before I could do the keystroke to reset the power settings. I don't know anyone with the same connection, so I needed to at least check another PS.

Doing What?

2007-11-12T22:22:00.000-05:00

Well, I have been quite remiss in my entries of late. And I figured out why.

Too much doing, and not enough thinking.

Doing what? Like driving. Back and forth. To work and school. Dropping off at practice. Picking up at practice. Oh, and the drive-thrus.

Doing what else? Like talking on the phone. I don't even know what about. I know that I shouldn't talk while I am driving, but it has become mutually inclusive. And rest assured there is no thought going into these conversations.

Doing what else? Like furrowing my brow. There has been a bunch of brow furrowing going on for the past few months. Again, not a thoughtful kind of furrowing. Just that just below a boil worry. No great breakthroughs, because that would have meant there was some thinking.

Doing anything else? I will be damned if I could identify effective use of my non-thinking time. It seems like I am in a whirlwind of activity, yet little to show.

I think--hey! that's a good start--that I will work to be a little more mindful. Using my mind rather than losing my mind. That feels better already.

Pickup or Delivery

2007-10-29T21:54:00.000-04:00

We were driving back from practice and were going to pick up a pizza on the way home.

The 16-year-old: This coupon is for a specialty pizza.
Me: Well my problem is that I just don't like the specialty pizzas.
The 16-year-old: What?
Me: The meat pizza features "meat products" and that makes me queasy.
The 16-year-old: I like it.
Me: And my big thing is with that supreme pizza. I like everything on it except the green peppers.
The 16-year-old: You can pick them out.
Me: Well, it's really hard to pick out the green peppers. They get mixed in with the cheese and onions and you always miss some.
The 16-year-old: Well, why don't you just order it without green peppers?

Me: [pause]
Me: [laughing and gagging] I am pretty embarrassed. To be honest, I have never thought of ordering it without green peppers.
The 16-year-old: Crap. The way you were laughing I thought you were being harsh on me for asking a dumb question.
Me: [still laughing] No, you can laugh at me.

D'oh!

What Were They Thinking?

2007-10-24T23:26:00.000-04:00

Facebook worth $15 billion? Don't tell Microsoft, but I think that they got took.

This stuff--from Facebook son of MySpace son of (do you remember?) Xanga son of something else-- and all those zillions of identities and passwords we can't remember, reminds me of the freeways in the 70's. Instead of billboards we have banner ads. Instead of Styrofoam Big Mac boxes we have a cyber-landscape littered with forgotten passwords and logins. Databases with data junking up some one's server. No value. And doesn't break down well.

So, Big Bill and Co. sink $240 million for 1.6% of the "company." I half wonder if the Google-guys tricked them into the investment.

I mean, c'mon. They don't even have a sock puppet. Yet.

Homecoming

2007-10-11T22:24:00.000-04:00

This week is Homecoming Week for the 16-year old. Today he got to dress like a Bama. So he wore the oddest conglomeration of clothing, primarily consisting of layers of mismatched crap. (Although I do admit surprise to see the T-mac* jersey as the top layer, but this is a digression.)

Also this week, I drove past my old high school, a bunch of times. And for the first time since I graduated, I almost stopped to see what it looked like. It didn't have a football field when I was there. We had to rent from the other school. But we did have fun at those Friday night games! When I was there, kids and teachers would huddle around the exit doors--smoking cigarettes. I bet that there aren't ANY teachers bumming a Newport off of a student these days.

When I was there, me and M.P. used to skip first hour and hang out at the Bicentennial Family Restaurant. Drinking coffee and avoiding a VERY dull class. When I was there, we didn't have AP classes. I was invited by my "college prep" English teacher to sit for a test that could get me college credit. But it cost a bunch of money, and there were no guarantees. I did learn, a few months later, that my college classmates had earned tons of college credit from these AP tests. Shoot, the SAT was a big enough deal, even for me.

When I was there, I had a fight with my social studies teacher who threw me out of class for insisting on fairness in his grading of a test. I only agreed to go out on "independent study" if I could bring 3 of my cronies with me. We obsequiously studied the history of film and were only thwarted by our teacher's inability to pick up the AV on his way in.

As I drove by the school, I thought about stopping in. But then I just kept driving.

*if you do click here, let the song load.

A Tale of Two Thomases

2007-10-02T22:01:00.000-04:00

It was the worst of Thomas, and it was the best of times.

The worst, (Justice) Clarence Thomas, once again smearing Anita Hill in an attempt to hustle his book and polish his rep. The best, Ms. Hill reclaiming her dignity.

The worst, (basketball executive and former playa) Isaiah Thomas saying that while it's always wrong for a white man to refer to a black woman as a "bitch" or a "ho", it is no such restriction on a black man. The best, the Knicks and Mr. I. Thomas getting socked for $11.6 million in damages for sexual harrasment.

Orlando Patterson wrote a thoughtful piece in the NYT in the context of the Jena 6 case (and OJ, again), in which he says

...something that has been swept under the rug for too long in black America: the crisis in relations between men and women of all classes and, as a result, the catastrophic state of black family life, especially among the poor....a fact of life for too many black women who must daily confront indignity and abuse in hip-hop misogyny and everyday conversation. What is done with words is merely the verbal end of a continuum of abuse that too often ends with beatings and spousal homicide.

Gentlemen do not talk to ladies like the two Thomases did, or like Don Imus has. We need to expect better of our men. All of the time.

Making Fun of Yourself--If You Can

2007-10-01T22:10:00.000-04:00

I really liked Kanye poking fun of himself--liked it really alot--on Saturday Night Live on Saturday.

I like Kanye anyway. When people talk about his oversized ego, I don't think that they have sat through any of his CD's. The man has alot of big feelings, is passionate about his art, and, he can really make a beat. In all of his big-head phoniness, he comes off to me as a real person.

Contrast that with another Chi-town transplant, Ms. Hil. Jon Stewart had a time with her, and her very squirrely laughing.

I know, as Kanye says, it's the media that makes it bad--cutting and splicing. Heck she might not have really even been there.

But when Hil is being touted as perhaps the next Al Gore--I get the shivers.

"Like the former vice president, she often came across as a pontificator and an automaton — in contrast to the personable and humorous person she is known to be off-camera. And she seemed especially evasive when dealing with questions requiring human reflection instead of wonkery." (Frank Rich, NYT)

Here is some important data points for all potential presidents:

Remember that the wonky Al Gore LOST. Becoming real after the election is simply too late.
Be more like Kanye. He makes mistakes, but for all his Louis Vuitton-isms, he seems more real than the whole lot put together. (Get that Barack?)

Mo' Money, Mo' Money, Mo'

2007-09-24T20:36:00.000-04:00

So, another top, highly paid official is leaving the Bush Administration, because he needs to make more money. This is on the heels of Tony Snow, recently White House Press Secretary, who left earlier this month because he "ran out of money." He said he took out a loan to make ends meet, and can't support his family of five on $168,000. That's more money than 93% of U.S. households earn each year.

So now, another public servant who has been sucking $168,000 out of the federal trough has also had to give up public service.

"The simple truth, however, is that after over five years of serving with the president's team, I am compelled to depart for financial reasons that I can no longer ignore."

What is this guy saying? He is compelled to depart for financial reasons he can't ignore? Hunh? Can't live within his significant means? This is a guy that was called "whip smart when it came to budget and operational details, a real manager." Yet he can't figure out how to live on a salary higher than 9 out of 10 Americans. Like does he gamble? Lose a bunch of money in the stock market? In over his head with a subprime mortgage? Owe money to a loan shark? Bought alot of travel on his credit cards?

Or maybe he lost everything in Katrina and is suffering from a slow recovery process. Oh wait, it was his department that caused that whole mess. Enough worry about Katrina victims when you are having your own money trouble. Yeah, go get another job.

Toxic

2007-09-19T22:31:00.001-04:00

Loathe as I am to defend the Miserable Ms. Spears recently as a performer, folks need to lay off her and her mothering.

This isn't to say that Britney is a "good" mom. But who is? Reading and hearing (non-stop) the accusations, I kept waiting for the awful surprise. Turns out that the kids may "have poor dental hygiene and bad eating and sleeping habits." That Britney used Whitestrips on the babies--DUMB--and sometimes is naked in front of them. And the awful part--the reason we should take her kids away is...is...is???

Now, don't think that I approve of all the bad stuff that Brit is doing--but I don't approve of lots of things that other parents do. Like putting ice tea in the baby's bottle. Like taking their 3 and 4 year-olds to R-rated movies (and sitting in front of me!). Like spanking their kids. Like teaching them that evolution is a theory or that Reagan was a great president.

I am thankful that nobody ever saw me the day after my sister-in-laws wedding when I was hung over and my kids saw. Or when I turned my back for a minute and there was a baby in the middle of the dining room table, lapping up the butter in the dish. Or when we let the family dog return after biting the then six-year-old. Or when we were in the pool and the lifeguard jumped right in front of us in the pool to save our 4-year-old who got in over his head. Or the time(s) that they heard me curse.

From what I have heard, Britney's actions to date--like ice tea in the bottle and Cheetos for breakfast--are not the things that you lose custody for. Part of being a parent is learning on the job, and the judge has sentenced her to that.

Sometimes I think that outside of her million$$, there but by the grace of God go I.

The millions of dollars thing, though, does make me relate to her a bit less.

'Bout Times

2007-09-17T21:49:00.000-04:00

Looks like the NYTimes got cyber-religion.

After two-years of blocking off their money-columnists from non subscribers, and after two years (to the day, they say) of making any article more than two weeks old unavailable, the New York Times realized that this was not such a good idea.

Like people were not reading their columnists. And like the columnists didn't like this so much, either.

I was a Times Select subscriber for the first year. I thought that I couldn't live without Maureen Dowd, David Brooks and Frank Rich. Or without being able to retrieve an article from last month.

But what happened instead, was I left the NY Times as my primary news source and turned to the Post. Even though I had already paid. Weird.

It was like as I was trying to keep track of my columnists and getting my money's worth the Times lost value to me. I can't say why, but it did.

So when time came for my renewal, I didn't renew my subscription. I soon discovered that if there was a column that got my attention that I wanted to read, all I needed to do was search and I could find it.

The Times wants to regain those search eyeballs. Maybe I will read Dowd again. But maybe I have moved on.

White Guy Can't Rap

2007-09-13T22:01:00.000-04:00

To the category of over-developed sense of importance I would like to add the white guy who wrote about how if he didn't buy those hip-hop joints with bad messages, then hip hop would clean up. You know, less guns, less drugs, less 'hos and the n-word all because he--and other influential white folk--are going to stop buying it.

Hey, Dude, you didn't invent the Internet, either!

While you can listen to hip hop, that doesn't mean you make it. And while your $16 for a CD adds to the bottom line, hip hop don't need you. You need hip hop--for whatever has been drawing you to it for the past 20 years.

Stop whining about the fact that your 3 year-old can't listen to your IPod. Duh. It makes sense that you listen to music--see movies, read books, and partake in other adult activities--that you wouldn't share with your children. You are the grown up.

Did you hear Nickelback's Rockstar? It follow the classic, formula rock song about the dreamlife of drugs, big cars and houses, and easy women. But you don't classify that as a problem--why is the problem rap not rock?

Is it okay because white people are not susceptible to "bad" music messages aimed at them? Are whites only immune to the plight of poor, urban African Americans? Don't we also ignore poor whites, Latinos, Asians and, of course, Native Americans?

Here you go, that's the way you do it!

Practically, did you know that most artists don't make money on record sales? The record companies do. The artists make money on tour and from merchandise. So you can put away your white man's wallet and skip the CD and not make a penny's worth of difference to 50 Cent's bottom line.

BTW 50 has decided that the market is too hot for "hard-core" joints, with the Don Imus thing and all. So he released the "softer" Curtis CD. You know more family-friendly songs like "My Gun," and respectful lyrics like "We got to share the same b*tch, okay I go first."

White Guy, it's okay for you to buy--or not buy--whatever you like. It's okay for you to be offended by music you like. I, too, have cringed at lyrics that escape my lips. But you can probably do more to make a difference in your community by doing a good job doing your job--don't sweat the music, and good luck.

No Mas, No Match

2007-09-07T22:44:00.000-04:00

My sibling called.

Sib: Mom's dead.
Me: silence
Sib: Still.
Me: Oh, it's that social security thing?
Sib: Yup. The hospital, ambulance and nursing home are all on me to pay the bills that Medicare is refusing because Mom is dead.
Me: How is she?
Sib: She's doing great. She is getting out of her room more, and the nurses said that she is interacting more with the other residents.

See, the Social Security Administration has randomly decided that Mom is dead. In fact, they have her pre-deceasing my dad by two weeks.

I say random, because they can't say how they decided that Mom is dead. Except for this type of error happens all the time. They don't have a death certificate (since she's not dead, yet), or a call from anyone. She just appears dead in their records, and they can't identify why.

This is the type of error that causes SSA to take money that you are entitled to--and in fact NEED--from your bank account. It is the type of error that doesn't surface when you go to their offices in Roseville, Mich., to check on your widow's benefits. When Mom and Sib were in the offices, about 5 weeks after they thought she was dead, nobody mentioned her demise.

Social Security requires an in person verification that you are still alive. They say you need to come to their offices. See, the burden of proof is on you. But since Mom was in the hospital, they generously agreed to comes see her to clear this up. Their representative seemed to recognize that she was still alive. Yet here we are, almost a month later, and she is still dead in some records.

This is the same Social Security Administration that we are asking to provide correct information to crack down on illegal immigrants working in the U.S. Do you think that they might get it wrong? That people working in this country legally will be fired or unnecessarily investigated--at a big cost to our economic engine--because the no-match info from Social Security is faulty?

Me: So do you need me to do anything with this Social Security mess?
Sib: No. But once they decide that Mom is alive, they will probably decide that she is illegal and have her sent to Mexico.

Google-icious

2007-08-30T22:07:00.000-04:00

Was interviewing someone for a job, and he said that he Googled me. I know that I get Googled all the time--people want to know a bit about who they are dealing with. Like are you higher or lower on the food chain?

But I have to say that I did feel a bit weird about someone in an interview--like when they are trying to impress you--saying, "Oh, I Googled you." Seems a bit personal, almost like I was violated.

The 13-year-old found something from Google on YouTube about Gmail that I found diverting, if not a surprise.

Looks like Google finally figured out what to do with YouTube. But here's my question.

Did Google think that it was a good idea to do this project? Are they really so cool, corporately, that they get it? Or is this something that came from YouTube, or--more sadly--an advertising agency?

I guess the answer I seek is that the corporate guns would "get" that media and advertising belongs to everyone. But maybe that's just wishful thinking. And I mean wishful thinking that they would get it. Not wishing that it's a fact, because it is.

And ANOTHER Thing, Fredo

2007-08-28T22:32:00.002-04:00

I don't know why I can't let go of Alberto, but here I go again.

Who the hash-browns does Alberto Gonzales think he is?

I often remind our fellow citizens that we live in the greatest country in the world and that I have lived the American dream. Even my worst days as attorney general have been better than my father's best days. --From resignation statement of Alberto Gonzales

I don't know, but I bet his dad had some pretty damn good days. He was a construction worker, husband and father of eight. Maybe he had a great day when he married Alberto's mom. Or when the kids' were born.

Or maybe, he had a pretty good day when his son went to the Air Force Academy or was accepted to Harvard Law School, especially since Alberto was the first of his kids to go to college. He didn't live to see his son work in the White House or serve as Attorney General, so we can't count those.

Maybe the elder Mr. Gonzales once had a great day playing with his kids or was extremely satisfied with a day's worth of bricklaying. Or making a mortgage payment or putting money down on a winning horse. I don't know about the man. But I have a really hard time believing that Alberto's worst days were better than his father's best. Like Fredo didn't know that he had a bad day?

Like I said, I don't know, Mr. Gonzales, and his, perhaps. challenging relationship with his dad. But it seems to me--and I might be wrong--that he might be stretching out the difficulties of his dad's life or the best of his own worst.

Okay, done with Gonzales.

So Long and Thanks for All the Fish

2007-08-27T21:30:00.000-04:00

Oh, what a long, strange trip it's been. Finally, Attorney General Alberto Gonzales (gonzo), has resigned.

He was called "dead man walking," and his imminent resignation has been foreshadowed and predicted for months--frequent reports of his demise rivaled those of Mark Twain and Paul McCartney.

And now, another of the most divisive characters from the Administration is packing his bags, and leaving D.C. I have been looking for him to get the message since March.

He might be a good man--the Prez thinks so--but he sure was a lousy attorney general. Beleaguered or embattled, he was the lightening rod that replaced Rumsfeld and then Rove. Unknown is who will be the next whipping boy for this group. They have another 18-months, and it seems prudent to have a target rod in place. To protect the Executive.

Not to be mean, Mr. Gonzales, but, "buh-bye!"

What Does YouTube Tell Us About Us?

2007-08-23T20:26:00.000-04:00

I admit that I am a bit freaky about data. Numbers, and what they tell you. I also admit that I am a bit Rain Man about them--perhaps much more idiot than savant. But sometimes I see stories in flat numbers.

The story begins with this video.

Since being posted 4-months ago, it has been viewed 9,037,074 times. That includes 1 million views since I first saw it two weeks ago. For some odd reason, I am entertained by the video, and have since learned to do the Crank Dat Soulja Boy dance. Very aerobic. [as an aside: you can do it, too. Here is a link to the instructional video which has been viewed 1,266,561 times since August 2nd. ]

Now here is the story. Somehow millions of people have seen the simple, low-res video of three guys doing part of a dance. It has become a viral thing of beauty. I have seen it and sent it on to more than a few people. They have seen it and sent it on, too.

Why do people like this video? I don't know.

Looking at other videos on YouTube can give a window into what people are drawn to--maybe even the zeitgeist.

Best card trick ever has 6,660,783 views in a year.
Obama Girl has 3,427,570 views in 2 months.
Teletubbies dance to Buttons by Pussycat Dolls viewed 944,280 times in the past year.
The President's 9/11 speech was viewed 11,800 since it was posted 10 months ago.
The most visited video with a CPR how-to has been viewed 9,455 in 11 months.

What are you watching? What do you value?

Sir, Yes Sir

2007-08-21T21:51:00.000-04:00

Occasionally, my job duties include trying to save my organization from itself. Bad decisions or worse implementations. Times when people who are extremely well-qualified to practice law decide that they are therefore well-qualified to do everyone else's job, too. Like, they made it through Harvard Law, so how hard could it be to to engineer the space shuttle?

This afternoon, I had a first-time visit from a "senior counselor" to the big cheese. It had to do with recommendations I made for a project. Turns out that he didn't think my recommendations would fly. Not that they were bad, but that they flew in the face of what the Man wanted. I proceeded to restate my case for the good of the organization.

"Wow," he said. "This is really refreshing."

I didn't know where this was going.

"Really refreshing. Usually, people just say 'yessir!'," and he shook his head. He wasn't mad, just bemused.

The 15-year-old thinks that the guy went home and said to his wife, "I think that is the first time that someone disagreed with me."

Somehow I don't think that I will be rewarded for being the first.

Why Mike? Why?

2007-08-20T22:14:00.000-04:00

This is one of those questions that will remain unanswered. Why does somebody do something so bone-headed, that destroys a career and future? Like run a dog-fighting ring.

So let's say I have a $130 million dollar contract, and my red no. 7 jersey is one of the best-selling in the NFL. [Heck, Doc Think bought one, and at least one pair of the Vick sneakers]. And my team isn't even any good.

So, now, I am going to spend my free time running a dog-fighting ring. I am sure that nobody will notice. Or maybe I don't even notice that someone might find this behavior troubling.

Did Paris H. think that? What about Britney? Or Mel? Or Prez Bill? Do they think they will go to jail, lose their kids, be arrested, get impeached?

So I wonder, WHAT WERE THEY THINKING? Or not thinking. Were they just doing? Did Vick think that there wasn't an issue with his "hobby"? Or did he just do it (TM?

And then I wonder, is there something that I am doing that would not stand up to scrutiny? Am I at risk of being blinded by my own sense of righteousness? But what if you can't see it until it's too late? Is that what happened, Michael?

Remains Of A Three Legged Stool

2007-08-04T09:32:00.000-04:00

Dear Members of Congress,

Thank you for taking the time to fight over the renewal of the terrorist surveillance law. You know, the one that gives all oversight for executive branch spy agencies eavesdropping to the executive branch (seems a bit circular, no?). The Senate guys among you have decided to agree with the Exec that it takes too long to get an emergency court order to spy on people in the U.S. Despite the lack of any real examples that support that assumption. Maybe just a gut feeling?

We know that the executive branch thinks this is a good idea--heck, they proposed it! And the judicial branch doesn't have a say. So, it's up to you in the legislative branch to do your job and provide a check and balance to the executive branch by letting the judicial branch do their job.

I know, when the President says TERRORIST the knee-jerk reaction is to buckle to whatever formula he proposes. But you guys need to remember that the Prez is not boss over you.

According to the first three articles of our nation's founding rules, there are three equally powered branches of our government. And, through the separation--and interleaving--of powers as conceived by James Madison and Co, there exists a precarious balance of power.

I believe Madison when he says it's pretty important to have judicial oversight of the executive branch. It's the legislative branch can see that this happens. My dearest Members of Congress, any abdication of your constitutional role--to the manipulations of an increasingly imperial president--means that you are weakening the judicial leg of the stool, as well as your own.

Our government can't stand on only one leg. So stand up yourselves and prop up the wobbly judicial checks on the executive before the stool collapses.

Sincerely,
Doc Think

Shut Up and Drive

2007-07-23T20:41:00.000-04:00

And yet another great thing about our beach locale is the proliferation of low trafficked roads. Just what the 15-year-old wanted.

Him: Can I drive?
Me: Okay!
Him: Alien, return my parental unit.

We drive standard transmissions, so part one of the lesson is getting the clutch, brake, gas thing together. Oh, and the shift part. He caught on fast.

Next was getting out of the driveway and around the circle in the cul-de-sac. Not bad.

So we went to the next phase--driving on the road, turning and down-shifting. That went well, too. Even that time when there was opposing traffic--a pick-up lumbering in our direction--no freak out. Smooth sailing.

Next was going more deeply throughout the neighborhood, all the way to the main road where we played a version of the Chinese fire drill to swap drivers. Very well done.

On the way back from town, we swapped just as we got off the main road and he drove back. We were coming up to an intersection.

Me: Hey, that was a stop sign.
Him: Hunh? (hitting the brakes a bit late.)
Me: Back up a bit and let's try that again. What do you do at a stop sign?
Him: You mean that was for me? I saw it, but I didn't know that it was for me.

Turns out that he was used to seeing them and ignoring them from the passenger seat.

Next lesson, basic traffic rules.

Siren's Call

2007-06-29T23:23:00.000-04:00

The beach beckons the Doc for our annual sojourn.

I know. It's early for us, but football practice starts in early August and was a big factor in moving the calendar up.

I am looking forward to the 4th over the water. Don't know what to expect, but the key to this vacation is keeping expectations minimal. So, I am expecting sand and hops. Oh, and clearing my head.

And, for my loyal reader, don't worry. I'll be back in a couple weeks.

Wagging the Finger

2007-06-25T23:08:00.000-04:00

Okay, this really made me laugh today.

The next day, according to Roll Call, “[Heath] Shuler, a former NFL quarterback [for the Redskins], was spotted towering over a seated Gohmert, wagging a finger in his face during the heated session.” The furious Shuler [D-NC] was yelling at Gohmert [R-TX] for being a “gutless chickenshit thief” and was apparently barely able to keep from stomping the little Republican’s skull

Thank you, Wonkette! I needed that today.

Seeping Weeping

2007-06-24T08:56:00.000-04:00

It's Sunday morning, with the sun reflecting off the roofs and trees making every thing look golden Especially framed by the blue sky. Another sonatina of church bells went through it's drill. I was wondering what was significant about 8:50 a.m. at that church.

The 15-year-old had meekly woke me up. He was pretty grumpy last night but had overslept and needed me for a ride to work. I made him some sandwiches to bring to the pool, and we jumped into the car.

I am having a hard time driving. It's really important to be focused when you drive. I find my mind wandering and my brain admonishing me, "Pay attention. That was a stop sign. You need to look both ways. Yes, the light was RED." Normally, I drive and it works just fine--the past few days I need reminders.

When I woke up on Friday, I didn't know where I was. Really. I was agitated, searching the room to to find a clue to my whereabouts. I was able to verify that I was in my own bed. I don't think that I have ever been so bewildered in the morning. Even after alot of travel, I always knew where I was. Not Friday, though.

I can do tasks. I can even do them in order. But I feel a bit disconnected. That's the word that describes me, disconnected. I looked it up. There are two parts, one is detached and the other is incoherent. I am feeling a bit of both.

My dad was 86 when he passed on June 15th. It seems like it makes sense that old people move on. I was feeling like I had a handle on it. My sibling admonished me for my bare statement to the caterer, "My dad is dead."

Sib: Don't you think that's a little too direct?
Me: That's what he is.

I have been looking at my feelings in third person. Always analytical, I was looking at myself from the outside to see how I thought that I was feeling.

But feelings are not thoughts. I told the 12-year-old that they just are, and that you just have to accept them. You can't judge your feelings.

I guess I am learning that I need to make way for my feelings and to experience them. They are not satisfied to be viewed clinically. Mine are organic, and like some certain force are elbowing my rational self for some room at the surface.

I guess I am more vulnerable when I drive. I better be careful.

If A Tree Fell In the Forest and Nobody Was There to Hear

2007-05-29T21:33:00.000-04:00

Would it make a sound? A peep? A whimper? A winkle? (provided by 12-year old looking over my shoulder).

Me: Hey, what will we do Tuesday night now that Idol is over.
Him: I don't miss American Idol.
Me: Hey, I don't miss it either.

Last year, it seemed there was a void after the Tues/Wed one-two punch of Idol was over. We didn't really like either finalist, but we had been hooked on the process. But this year, we really didn't care.

Hmmm. Why is that? There just wasn't much drama this year. No transplanted Southern girl with a daddy in jail learning about California cuisine. No old-looking guy who surprised us all, until we go so tired with his "whoo!" and "soul patrol" shouting. No shock when the shoo-in arrogant Rocker was booted.

This year, it was just, well, kind of dull. Dull songs. Dull contestants. The judges were dull. Paula stayed sober, Randy stayed within his SlimFast® goal, and Simon used the same, tired schtick about karaoke and a bad high-school performance (DIY British accent). The winner was so safe. Yes, she sang well, but she couldn't move without looking completely uncomfortable. And the guy who was taking a chance, was even more calculated. A masterful chess game for him, but just not enough oomph.

Sure, there was a Daughtry-esque turn when this year's shoo-in got booted. But it wasn't REALLY a surprise. At least not to us.

So, we ended up watching our last TiVo'd episode of Idol. Fast forwarded to the end when the host had the two finalists on the stage. He said that there were a large number of votes and then.

Well, nothing. American Idol went on past the safety record time. So we didn't know the winner. And instead of being upset, we laughed. Because we really didn't care. Now THAT's apathy.

$outhwe$tern Whitehou$e

2007-05-21T21:25:00.000-04:00

Did you know that the President has spent 416 days (like one-sixth of his tenure) at his Ranch in Crawford (pop 705) , Texas? I know that in addition to clearing brush, biking, clearing brush, hiking and clearing brush he does alot of work. It's not like the President of the Free World can just duck out. He really doesn't get a "day off."

Did you know that in order for him to be able to do this we--American taxpayers--have paid for a SxSW WhiteHouse that includes:

a carpeted conference room in a trailer equipped with videoconference equipment
secure telephones installed in his home office
A cluster of double-wide trailer homes, including 5 bedroom trailers (without formaldehyde) outfitted with secure phones, two-way radios and backup generators
Newly constructed tornado bunkers to protect staffers in the case of serious storms
BlackHawk helicopters to protect the air space
Lots of hotel rooms 20 miles away for the president's large entourage of personal, military, security and press aides. (Source Wash Post)

I don't think that the President can do without this level of technology and personnel and their costs when he is in Crawford. If he is going to be there so much, this is required.

This begs the question, though, why we have to spend the money so that he can indulge his desire to be there so much. At least that's the question that I'm thinking.

If It Walks Like a Duck

2007-05-19T22:42:00.000-04:00

From the Washington Post

Throughout [his 34-year career], Wolfowitz built a reputation as a foreign policy iconoclast, a mild-mannered intellectual with a steely ideological core, and an inept manager.

and

Speaking on the condition of anonymity, the source voiced admiration for his intellect but said Wolfowitz "couldn't run a two-car funeral."

and

After Bush's [43] election, ...Wolfowitz wanted to return to the State Department, but...secretary of state, Colin L. Powell, turned him down as his deputy. They weren't "ideologically in sync," Powell later said, and Wolfowitz was notoriously lacking in the required administrative skills.

Is anyone else seeing a pattern here? So, okay, if Paul Wolfowitz was known to be a lousy administrator, why would he be put in charge of a multinational institution owned by more than 180 governments, with 10,000 employees, and $14.6 billion (U.S.) in loans in 2006 (World Bank, Annual Report 2006)?

Is it for the same reason that we suffered internationally with John Bolton as ambassador to the United Nations? That we think we know the best? That other countries can be ignored or insulted? That international institutions should be dismantled? That America's interest du jour trumps all?

While I strongly support George Washington's postulate that every nation works to protect it's own interest, we need to see those interests in 21st century terms. We are no longer bound by oceans or mountains. We are joined by instantaneous communications, rapid travel, and a global economy.

I am constantly trying to get the 12-year old and the 15-year old to look beyond the noses on their faces, to extend their vision toward the horizon, to move beyond the here and now.

It's not us against the world. It's us AND the world.

To Market To Market

2007-05-13T14:30:00.000-04:00

My recent trip to San Francisco included a morning stroll along The Embarcadero and the recently redeveloped Ferry Building at the Port of San Francisco. I walked through the market/commercial space--formerly the baggage handling area--on my way to watch the incoming catamaran ferrying commuters from across the water (I don't really know where they came from, but they were mostly people going to work).

There were a bunch of stalls at the Port with the most incredible array of goods. Artisan cheeses, clams, high-end beef (and high-class hot dogs!), olives, wine, caviar, clams, fish, farmers' market vegetables, fresh baked sourdough breads and rolls. All foods were super quality--and nary a chain in sight. All I could think of was, "I wish I passed through here every night on the way home."

I am not an urban planner. But, I am a user of urban areas. I bought my cheese and olive roll and left thinking, "Why does SF have a surfeit of great shopping? What are elements of such success? City support? Income levels? Downtown access? Start-up and risk taking behavior?"

And, most importantly, "Why don't we have a place like this in Washington, D.C." (burned down Eastern Market notwithstanding).

Everyone in an urban neighborhood wants to have a great shopping district in walking distance. The District government pays alot of money for it. How do you jump start a great retail/restaurant row? How do you encourage people to frequent great local shops, like Dwellings, instead of the Tar-jay? What makes the local coffee shoppe--like Cafe Sureia a reincarnation of Cup o' Dreams--viable?

I strive for the authentic--try Uncle Brutha's hot sauce on Capitol Hill for the BEST, most flavorful hot sauce EVER.

I think, though, that authenticity can't be manufactured. Darn!

In or Out?

2007-05-02T22:31:00.000-04:00

It's like the cool kids. The "in" crowd. The OC or Beverly Hills 90210. The ones that the high-school Alphas take into their circle. You know, like the Bushies.

Between shutting out career Justice Department lawyers, inexperienced appointees at NASA telling scientists what to say, putting political appointees in charge of all regulatory policy undercutting career staff and experts, and, overall, increasing the number of Schedule C--political appointments the wagons are circled tightly.

Today's WashPost and others report that Monica Goodling--former Justice Department official and of the 5th Amendment fame--may have questioned applicants for career jobs about their political affiliation. I guess she was thinking, "If you're not with us, you're against us." Or something.

It's very discouraging for career civil servants to be ignored. Not invited to meetings. Not consulted or overridden in their areas of expertise by inexperienced political hacks. To be told by a senior agency official, "I don't know you [federal worker], but I trust the political appointee to my right" really makes for a bad meeting.

Lots of the Politicals are terrific public servants. But if the main qualification for critical jobs, like rebuilding Iraq, is ties to the Bush-Cheney campaign, something is amiss. If leaders in political jobs do not trust career staff, if career staff are seen as lazy bureaucrats, if career staff are outside of the decision making process we have government by the seat of our pants and government being pulled out of a youthful buttocks. Oh, and wasting a bunch of resource$$.

Ultimately, the important work of governing suffers. The Bushie A-Team is long gone, and many agencies are being led by the 5th stringers or vacancies. Yet there is work to be done--in education, health care, terrorism response, information sharing, the environment, poverty eradication, immigration reform, international relations, support for returning and especially injured veterans and much more.

But it looks like we might have to wait for the remaining Bushies to vacate their posts. What a shame when there are so many good people--many of them career civil servants who are also Democrats, Republicans, Independents or Other --who are so ready to do real work.

High school is over! The OC and Beverly Hills 90210 have been cancelled.

Bono on "Idol"

2007-04-24T23:17:00.000-04:00

We are excited to announce that Bono (!!??!) will be making an appearance Wednesday night on American Idol. --email from Susan McCue of ONE.org

Now there is a sentence I never expected to read. You know, one with Bono and American Idol. As in Bono making appearance on the kitschy-est show on TV. Bono appearing with Simon, Paula, Randy and Ryan? Must be a joke. But it's real.

Thinking on it, I am amazed by Bono's comitment to fighting poverty. American Idol is not a shine on his personal brand, and Bono is very protective of his rock-star brand. He describes himself a rock-star. He likes being a rock star.

Bono is stepping out in a way that would make other brands squirm, or even retch. Stepping out because he knows that this is a huge stage from which he can bring his message to millions of AI viewers. Millions of young people and not such young people. He is committed to raising awareness and raising money. And if American Idol is a good venue, then let's go.

Now, though, this is my PROOF that the fix was in to get rid of Sanjaya. I was very suspicious as his final performance was no worse than the weeks before when he wasn't even in the bottom three.

But I bet that no matter how much Bono is committed to raising money to fight poverty and aids in Africa, standing on a stage with Sanjaya was probably too much. Crap, I bet he would even have done that. Bono shows us how to make ourselves better.

Check out the ONE Blog

Remember the Good

2007-04-19T20:28:00.000-04:00

Disbelief, shock, sadness, horror, grief mix together in thinking about the murders at Virginia Tech. And the 32 victims who family, friends and strangers mourn, 32 innocents.

The people identified by Va Tech to date are Ross Abdallah Alameddine, Christopher James Bishop, Brian Roy Bluhm, Ryan Christopher Clark, Austin Michelle Cloyd, Jocelyne Couture-Nowak, Kevin P. Granata, Matthew Gregory Gwaltney, Caitlin Millar Hammaren, Jeremy Michael Herbstritt, Emily Jane Hilscher, Jarrett Lee Lane, Matthew Joseph La Porte, Henry J. Lee, Liviu Librescu, Partahi Mamora Halomoan Lumbantoruan, Lauren Ashley McCain, Daniel Patrick O'Neil, J. Ortiz-Ortiz, Minal Hiralal Panchal, Daniel Alejandro Perez, Erin Nicole Peterson, Michael Steven Pohle, Jr., Julia Kathleen Pryde, Mary Karen Read, Reema Joseph Samaha, Waleed Mohamed Shaalan, Leslie Geraldine Sherman, Maxine Shelly Turner, and Nicole White.

These are the people that will be remembered by their loved ones. But the rest of us, those who don't know them, will forget their names. They will become, for most of us, "the victims" or the "people who were shot."

I don't know if there is anything that we can do about that. But there is one thing that I have decided to do. I refuse to learn the name of the man who took their lives. I won't let him become part of my memory. I won't let him be like murderers before him--people who ruthlessly killed hundreds in Oklahoma City, boys and young men in Chicago, or our brothers and sisters in New York, D.C., and Shanksville Penn., on September 11, 2003. I don't care if they are "infamous"--they have more of our brain space than they deserve.

I am very angry that NBC--followed rapidly by their disrespectful media siblings--have given the wicked shooter time. I can't stand that they promoted his pathetic tapes, pictures, ravings. I am not going to be an accomplice to his narcissistic desires for people to know who he is.

I don't care about him. I don't care to know about him. I don't want to aggrandize this shooter. We don't have to give him what he wanted. Leave him a place in the history books, but just call him the shooter.

The names, the histories, the hopes of the victims are what we need to remember. Google them. Find their Face Books. Learn about them. Leave the shooter in ignominy.

You can leave your condolences here. My thoughts and prayers to the entire and extended Virginia Tech community.

Fighting Words

2007-04-14T17:59:00.000-04:00

Don Imus has been pushed off of the table. Along with the me-too media furies, and, of course, the tsk-tsk over that "rap music language."

But as the dust settles there are still some very accomplished young women at Rutgers--and all across the country--who will be degraded tomorrow. Some simply because they are women, and some simply because they are women of color.

Three weeks ago, before the Rutgers/Imus/CBS media frenzy, the 12-year old relayed a conversation at his small school. One of his friends, a 13-year-old African-American boy, asked another of their friends, the only African American girl in her middle-school grade, "Why don't you act black?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, you're not like a bitch or a ho'," he replied.

The following day, I saw the two moms of these kids talking in the parking lot. I wondered if they were talking about their kids' exchange. And I wondered if they had a solution. They walked away with their arms around each other. Embracing each other as they were fighting against crappy images, self-hate, and words that, as they are repeated, take stronger hold over our thinkings. Or so I imagined.

And today I wonder, was the girl reminded about her classmate's question in the wake Imus' crass remarks? Did this honor student, musician, on her way to high school girl with her first contact lenses uncovering her beautiful eyes, see herself in the sad faces of the basketball players during their press conference?

Deep Cuts

2007-04-08T11:34:00.000-04:00

NYT threw me back in time to my second job ever. At Music Stop.

We were the discount record store. Not quite as hip and not as big a catalog as Peaches--but we had the top selling LPs at the best prices. And I was introduced to music beyond Foreigner, Kansas, Led Zepplin, and Foghat.

I did the weekly inventory--mostly because I worked on Mondays, was able to work the order book, and really liked flipping through the bins and bins of records and seeing which records were missing from last week. Why didn't anyone buy those Robert Palmer records? The album art looked promising. Why did the white jazz artists get filed under ROCK and the black jazz artists under R&B? And wow! did that Cars record take off.

What I learned was that sometimes the whole was greater than a sum of it's parts. The concept album--from Beatles to Pink Floyd to OutKast--told a story, ran a gamut of feelings, said more about the artist, more about me.

I must say that I love ITunes, and I loved Napster in the old days.

I also love a great pop single. But buying the album--or CD using current terms--gives a bigger view of the artist. If you heard the chart topping Lose Control from Missy Elliot's Cookbook but missed the marching band at the end of We Run This, you really missed. Yes, I'm sorry I bought the weak Dangerously in Love for the best single of that summer, but delighted to have all of Late Registration (Sorry Mr. West is gone).

Now record stores are gone, and artists are being signed for deals on singles--not LPs. I am not smart enough to know what the market will do, but I do miss the bins, and the album art, and getting a paper cut when you slit the record for the first time.

We were at Kemp Mill records a few years back, and I tried to impress the boys with my coolness.

ME: You know I used to work in a record store.
The 15-year-old (at age 9): What's a record?

Friends Like These

2007-03-29T21:22:00.000-04:00

Boy, I was surprised today when I heard that our good friend, King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, said,

In beloved Iraq, blood is flowing between brothers, in the shadow of an illegitimate foreign occupation, and abhorrent sectarianism threatens a civil war. (Article)

One of our biggest allies calls U.S. presence in Iraq "illegitimate," in his remarks to his fellow Arab leaders at a summit. Pre-summit talk was that King A has been establishing a greater leadership role in the Middle East. Bet that the Administration was hoping for more supportive remarks. There was a pretty quick response from the White House. It seems, though, that the fissure with our friends in the mid-East grows.

Speaking of trusted friends turning on you, did you see Kyle Sampson--former chief of staff to troubled AG Gonzales? In discussing his old boss

I don't think the attorney general's statement that he was not involved in any discussions about U.S. attorney removals is accurate. (More on PBS NewsHour)

WOW! We have one taking the fifth, and this one flat-out contradicting his boss. What price loyalty?

Then there was President Bush at last night's Radio and Television Correspondents' Annual Dinner, joking among his "friends" in the media.

Well, where should I start? A year ago, my approval rating was in the 30s, my nominee for the Supreme Court had just withdrawn, and my Vice President had shot someone. (pause....) Ahhh, those were the good old days. (Complete transcript)

Yes, what a difference a year makes.

Parsing Words

2007-03-24T22:43:00.000-04:00

Here's what got to me today.

Scolinos (Communications Director for Justice) also said there is no evidence that meeting participants reviewed a draft memo on the firing plan.......According to Scolinos and her deputy, Brian Roehrkasse, there is also no evidence that individual U.S. attorneys were discussed at the meeting. (Wash Post, 3/24/07)

There is no evidence that has been produced by the source under investigation--AKA the Department of Justice. Are they saying that there are no written records from that meeting? People at the meeting don't know what they said? There is evidence, but it has not been forthcoming.

Enter the White House, unwilling to provide testimony, under oath, with a transcript which provides a record of "evidence." Just have a little discussion in a room, off the record, no note-taking to clear up any misunderstanding.

Here is where we are. (1) There is no evidence, and (2) The Administration is not willing to provide evidence.

Doesn't seem right to me.

This administration, as previous and future administrations, needs to be accountable for its decisions. Between "no evidence" and people not being able to recall what went on at a meeting, who knows? Who knows how decisions are made in our government?

Doesn't seem right to me.

Why Couldn't The Pirate See the Movie?

2007-03-18T18:40:00.000-04:00

Because it was rated "arrrrrr".

Who would make a movie out of a frickin' ride? It was simply too stupid a premise for me.

I remember watching the Wonderful World of Disney when I was little. Sometimes Disney would dedicate an entire show to one of their entertainment rides. The Hall of Presidents, It's a Small World, the Tiki Room, and, of course, Pirates of the Caribbean.

When I went to Disney World in the mid-80's we suffered through a ride that was way past its prime. So why, oh why, would someone think that you could make a movie out of a plotless, plodding, pointless pretense of play?

So, I was wrong. Loved the movie the first. Loved the movie the second and sat through the movie the third trailer in Russian.* I don't know what they are saying, but it looks like a blast!

* Available to all in English on Monday night.

Who Misses Rummy the Most?

2007-03-12T21:54:00.000-04:00

Well, for years folks had been calling for the resignation of Don Rumsfeld. See here, here, and here for examples.

Now that he's gone, it looks like somebody new has taken his place--POTUS long-time confidant and current Attorney General, Alberto Gonzales is on the top of the To Go menu.

The NYTimes, et al., chronicle politically motivated firings of political appointees, extra-curricular spying via a supra-Patriot Act, a starring role in warrantless eavesdropping and, of course, the Administration "interpretation" of the Geneva convention and humanitarian treatment of prisoners. Roll it up and you have some prime motivation for clearing the top of the deck at Justice.

I miss a Rumsfeld press conference. His sarcasm and disdain, while bad for public policy, did make for some diverting moments. Mr. Gonzales has been less than forthcoming, and much less entertaining

Somehow, though, I think that Fredo (AKA Alberto G.) wishes Rummy was around even more than me.

Unidentified Flying Object

2007-03-11T22:06:00.000-04:00

A bird dropped into the house this morning.

Yes, dropped would be the way I would describe it. I must have been awakened by the bird flying through the attic space because I definitely saw it Harrier into the room. Thunk! The dog also noted the appearance of another animal in the house. He also helped with the awakening-thing.

At first I didn't know that it was a bird. I thought that it might be a squirrel, or maybe one of those rat-fink raccoons that have been known to burrow underneath the eaves and climb their plump/fat selves on the gutter causing the gutters to pull away from the house. Oops, I digress.

Anyway, I saw something fall into the room and then the dog went after it as it whizzed across the hallway. It was smaller than a raccoon, also it was a few feet off of the ground. "A bird!" I surmised.

Then it was in the dog's mouth. "DROP!" I bellowed. (well, maybe more like screamed, I can't say for sure.) The dog is amazingly obedient. I saw him fighting with himself. He knew he had to obey orders from the Alpha (me), but dear lord, he had a live animal in his mouth.

"DROP!" I repeated. (re-screamed?)

The bird flew to one window and clunked itself. Bouncing off, it raced to the other window with the dog in pursuit. "Don't eat the bird!" I ordered.

The bird was, once again, in the jowls of the commando dog. The dog looked at me. "Dammit," he telepathed. "This is my job. I am supposed to chase birds and return them. Also, I can save you."

"LET THE BIRD GO!" He did. And the bird raced around as I tried to get the window open. Success, but the storm window was in the way. The bird was to the next room. The dog, once again, made a grab.

"DROP!" I wailed as I got the window in the bedroom open. There was fresh air. The bird was in the corner, next to the armoire, and the dog was going back for another go. I grabbed the dog by the collar and dragged him into the next bedroom.

"There's a bird in the house, and I need you to keep an eye on the dog." The 12-year old looked up from his covers. Like he didn't hear the entire commotion. I bet he was hoping he could skip church this morning if he feigned sleep.

"Okay." I left the dog in his room and went to see about the bird. I could see the tail sticking out from under the armoire. And he was breathing at about 2 zillion breaths per second. I tried to say something calming, and the 12 year old walked in. The dog, hot on his heels, trying for another mouthful.

"Okay," I said again. "You watch the bird, and I will let the dog out." I took the dog downstairs, put him in the room of the 15-year old with admonishments to "STAY THERE," and went back upstairs.

The 12-year old was spying on the bird under the furniture. "He crawled all the way under." We waited, prone. What to do next? The wind was coming in the room.

12-year old: Let's get some bread and throw it out the window.
Me: Hunh?
12-year old: He'll chase it.
Me: It's a bird not a dog. They don't do the same thing.

Whooosh! The bird saw its chance and was out the window.

I was relieved that it could actually fly, after the mouth treatment by the 85 lb. yellow dragon.

It flew to the tree outside the house. Caught its breath for a few minutes then flew toward the spooky church across the street. Three more birds like him streaked after him. I guess they were interested in his story.

I hope he discouraged them from finding out for themselves. I sat down to a cup of coffee. And fed the dog.

Project-tile

2007-03-01T23:33:00.000-05:00

Projects, projects everywhere and not a drop to drink!

I need a drink with the cornucopia of school projects overflowing the calendar, tables, computer screens and minds.

There are the science projects. In one, we are creating WMD by exposing a growing nutrient to bacteria from the bathroom sink. UGH!

In the other, there is some ratio-coefficient-decibel thing going on. It entails speakers, microphones cinderblocks and foam. Oh, and a ton of data that nobody knows what to do with.

15-year old: I need to put this in a graph.
Me: What are you trying to show?
Him: Show?
Me: What story are you trying to tell?
Him: Story? Tell? Is that in the rubric?

And let's not forget the art project. Herein the 12-year old had to chose an artist and a piece of his or her work and then reproduce it. By hand. By his own hand, that is.

Me: How about Jackson Pollock? Like this. It wouldn't take too long.
12-year old: I like the Escher. The one with the stairs. It's so cool.
Me: Don't do the hard one, do something you can just crank out, you have too much to do!

No, I didn't actually SAY that last part. I just thought it. Really loud, but in my head. I think. And it was especially loud each time he was working on the fabulous art project instead of recording data from the WMD experiment.

You know, bacteria grows really fast. And the data from yesterday is gone. Poof! The stuff unrecorded today is also disappearing--or should I say growing and morphing? I'm thinking that it is almost time to call in the hazmat team. Before it gets too dangerous. (Don't worry, loyal reader. The procedures include bleaching the insides of the petri dishes before disposal.)

So, somebody spent hours and hours on a really incredible art project. It is really quite nice. He says it will be for sale at the school in a few weeks, long after we have disinfected the house.

I bet I buy it.

Snowed

2007-02-27T20:10:00.000-05:00

Turns out that the 12-year old isn't allowed to touch the snow while at school. Even when they are on the playground for recess. Even when there is wonderful packing-style snow all over the place.

No snow touching.

Now I got the other touching thing, and watching out where the huskies go, but no touching snow?

"Why?" you ask.

Well, because you might put your eye out, of course!

We have really become a very scared people. And not just terror-wise. We have adopted these zero tolerance modes to protect ourselves and our kids--and the insurance premiums of schools, government, stores, etc.

We warn people that coffee is hot. We don't allow kids to bring in sunscreen to pre-school without a waiver. We make toddlers take off their shoes and coats and take them out of their mom's arms before being screened for explosives. And we don't let them touch snow.

Yet, there is no shielding from pictures of Britney's privates (sorry, no link to that). Or from the graphic violence in video games marketed to kids. Or from the sexualization of little girls. And we are still afraid to protect kids from sexually transmitted diseases.

This seems squirrely. Do we want our kids' in a plastic bubble to keep them safe? Do we give up control of our kids to the "media"?

Wait, I am losing track--should I be afraid? Should I be strong? And where on this spectrum is yellow snow?

Who's Image Anyway

2007-02-19T19:22:00.000-05:00

David Stern, that iconic sport executive "genius" of the NBA, continues to rework the reputation of pro-basketball.

NBA playas were all chained out--baggy pants hanging significantly south of waist and over sized tees accented by platinum chains. All bling, a la the most gansta of urban chic. It was good for the NBA--the younger, hipper pro sport. Ticket sales and TV ratings up, up, up!

We had athletes choking coaches, throwing naked wives into the snow, and punching fans in a stand-clearing brawl. People started getting uncomfortable with this marriage of elite hoop stars and the hood stars. Got the cool, but would this turn off the wealthy, white fans? Ratings and sales potentially down, down, down!

Solution? Make the ballers wear suits, and have Wayne Newton bring his geriatric Elvis, Mr. Vegas revival to the NBA All Star intro-show.

15 year-old: Who is that guy?
12 year-old: Is his face real? He looks like wax.
Me: Michael looks less real.
15 year-old: Was that guy famous? For what?
Me: (no answer)

Where was Beyonce and her girls remaking The Star Spangled Banner? John Legend jumping on his piano?

Not a way to attract fans for the future. And--much as I love Xtina--the music and show was old.

I came for the music, not the game. Boo!

Blinded Me By Science

2007-02-07T19:52:00.001-05:00

I hate science fair.

I used to think that I liked it. That was when we were at a school that didn't have one.

I used to think that Science Fair was to learn about science, do something with your hands and brain, and then learn to communicate about your findings. Be creative. Have fun. We didn't do science fair at my school. I thought it would be great.

Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

First, science projects are lame. My favorite science was chemistry. Blowing things up. Burning chemicals. Seeing the colors. Smelling the esters. Building a distilling apparatus and having some powdery substance at the end. Or, even better, separating liquids. Connecting the Lewis Dot Structures. It was a wonderful, hands-on thing.

But you look for science fair projects and they are in two categories--boring biology projects or building things.

The first is--well--boring. Growing plants. Growing germs. Growing plankton. Nothing blows up. Great for little kids.

The second has a huge cool potential. Except that if you are building something--like a circuit--you might actually learn something. And that is NOT the purpose of a science fair project.

A successful science fair project has four main ingredients.

A graph. You need to measure something so you can graph it. You can't measure something you build.
A hypothesis. You need to work the Scientific Method. This is the Holy Grail of science fair. #1 is directly related.
A teacher. The teacher has to be of no help, patronizing, mean, and anti-intellectual.
Much yelling. There are absolutely NO good science fair projects. There are no projects of any interest whatsoever to the kid. No matter how you try to sell it.

So after not picking a project, complaining about the lack of support from #3, and refusing to do work. And after going around and around through crummy web sites with science projects perfect for 7-9 year olds when we need an high school honors level project AND a middle school project. And after going through all the ideas with potential and recognizing time and again there was nothing to frickin' MEASURE, the science fair projects have been selected.

The abstracts have been written. The high-level procedures have been done. Some of the materials have been ordered. After all the shock and awe to get this far, it seems like we should be done.

But then you look at building the experiment, trying to control the insurgent students (aka the 15-year old and the 12-year old) who at times seem intent on sabotaging their own best interests, and a look at the additional resources--time, brain, and materials--required for success, I almost feel like pulling out now. But no, I need to be fully committed to see these projects through their bitter ends.

Maybe I should shut up. At least our experiments have a good chance of success--it could be worse.

See related Science Un-Fair.

BeanTown Keystone

2007-02-01T23:37:00.000-05:00

It's not so scary. That lite-brite image with the raised middle finger under the overpass.

Wasn't so scary in New York where 41 of them caused no stir. Philly removed 56 without fanfare. Not so scary for the past few weeks in Los Angeles, Chicago, Atlanta, Seattle, Austin, San Francisco, and Philadelphia, according to Cartoon Network. And Portland police said they are leaving them up as long as they aren't on municipal property. No investigation either, since they don't see a crime being committed.

But somebody on Wednesday saw the lite-brite from a bus in Boston and reported it as a "suspicious" object. Makes sense. They saw something ductaped to a bridge and were concerned. Then the Boston police came in. And made such a ruckus. Blew some of the signs up. Closed roads and the Charles River. All because nobody in the investigation watches Adult Swim on Cartoon Network. If there was a twenty-something cop, they might have recognized the Mooninites. Try Flickr for some images, even images of the actual signs like this one from San Francisco uploaded Jan. 13.

But rather than admit that they went spaz, Boston and Mass. authorities are now trying to blame the two hapless local guys that were hired by some marketing firm to place the lite-brite promos.

The 15-year-old was a bit disturbed.

"I don't think that I like that they got so worked up."

He's right. It wasn't a terror threat. It was a marketing ploy. And it wasn't a problem except that someone didn't put the breaks on the frenzy--or didn't take a step back to investigate the image. Don't blame the slacker-type guys making a buck for the Boston over-reaction. Let them go! My advice to Beantown, back down quick and as quiet as you can.

Here's the funniest part. The locals want to charge Turner Broadcast--parent of Cartoon Network--for the investigation. Given all the free word-of-mouth advertising, I think it's a much better value than a Super Bowl ad. Going rate for one of those? $2.6 million for 30 seconds. Cost of the Boston police frenzy, more like $500K.

Under International Scrutiny

2007-01-29T22:35:00.000-05:00

According to China View--or Xinhua.net--The Hindu, and news websites world wide, Americans want the Bush presidency to be OVER. So now everybody in the world knows.

Enough! No mas! We say, "Uncle!"

But darn it, we got 721 days, 13 hours and counting, until the new guy* comes in.

So, it doesn't matter if the people are sick of the administration. It doesn't matter if a bit more than two-thirds think that the president disregards facts when making decisions. It doesn't matter if 7 out of 10 Americans disapprove of the job President Bush is doing.

And the whole world can see that we--in this great democracy of ours--need to figure out within our laws how to make this president respond to the will of the people.

And it's hard work. The president and his henchmen continue to spew their dream state point-of-view. We will march; we will protest; we will write letters to the editor, and to Congress. All the while, Congress is trying to figure out how to move this intransigent President away from bad policy and still support the troops we have asked to fight this war.

And as I write this, I find myself getting all patriotic. Standing up on a soapbox and saying,

"Look World! This is how we disagree in a democracy. It isn't instant. It doesn't happen in a coup. It happens according to the rule of law, the rule of our constitution." And THAT's how we do it downtown.

* "Guy" like in a generic, genderless sense.

Family Affair

2007-01-23T21:21:00.000-05:00

That "great" expert, Liz Cheney (aka daughter of the VP), is sniping at Hillary in the Post today. I will wait a second while you read it.

Liz, like her dad, uses redirection and name calling to make her point--that anyone who disagrees with the White House Iraq policy is spineless, chicken, misinformed, cowardly, anti-patriotic, and wants to support terrorists on our shores. Whatever!

[Aside: I am tired of supporting the Cheney family. Liz is "former principal deputy assistant secretary of state for Near Eastern affairs," and has been at the high-end of the political appointee trough since 2000--with time out for the 2004 campaign and to birth her fifth child. Add up hers and the top federal salary of her husband, #5 at Homeland Security, and we can see how a doting grandmother can keep her five grandchildren close to her in financial security. They had to pull in at least $300K.]

And for all that experience and know-how, we get the regurgitation of the worst, least sophisticated "stay the course and WIN!" arguments.

But why Liz? Why now?

Looks like the Republicans are terrified of Hillary Clinton. A few short days after Hillary throws her hat into the presidential ring, the Republicans trot out a working mother to tell us how awful it would be to have the Senator-mother as the President-mother. Hillary's favorable numbers were especially good with women. The Clinton campaign must be crowing since they got this early, full-frontal attack.

But back to the issue at hand. Liz, I know you didn't write the "op-ed," but let me pose a question. Despite the lack of military service in your family, would you encourage your two sons to fight in Iraq when they grow up? C'mon Liz, break the mold. Be authentic.

Forgotten Fruits

2007-01-15T21:24:00.000-05:00

It's like prison. They insist on eating 3-squares every day. If they miss a meal, it's a civil rights abuse. So to keep child protective services away, I need to go to the grocery store.

B-K (not burger king, but before kids), we could go to the grocery store every three-four weeks. Once the kids came along, I got a frequent flier card to the Giant and Safeway--2-3 times a week is now the norm. (Living in the city makes the Cotsco and Shoppers' way too inconvenient.)

So I am at the Giant, and they have Breyers' ice cream on sale. Including my mostest ever favoritest flavor, Peach Ice cream. But I can't eat 1/2 gallon of it. Damn! That's too much of a great thing--my lust for which I blame le Dog.

Yup, when I used to work at the overpriced arcade in Ann Arbor, barely down the block, on Liberty Street was le Dog. A shack that sold hot dogs, and incredibly sophisticated soups and a shake of the day.

Some weeks, he would serve the most amazing peach shake ever. I didn't want to have one. I like chocolate shakes. And I don't like peaches. But he convinced me to try one and it was the best. I was broke, and couldn't afford gourmet shakes, but Mr. le Dog liked to play video games so I could trade game tokens for the most incredible peach milk shakes. Ever.

This was the beginnings of the trail that led to the frusen gladje strawberry ice cream. And my love of Gifford's banana ice cream.

I usually buy variants of vanilla or chocolate with junk in it. But the fruit ice cream is really where it's at. Like that peaches and cream pint that I just put away that took me back across the street from the Michigan Theatre on Liberty Street.

Too Much Coffee

2007-01-11T21:52:00.000-05:00

I was washing the post-dinner dishes. It was unusual in that I did it after dinner, rather than in the morning. I know, I know. You all can't stand dishes in the sink overnight. I can see your point, but I can't stand to stand over the sink after getting dinner on the table.

The spouse is out of town. For like 2o days. So, for me it's an exercise in single-parenting. It's times like this when my respect for my friends and colleagues who do it alone runneth over.

["What?" you child-free readers say. "Doc, your kids are big. So don't be a whiner." Yes, they are big, and have bigger responsibilities. More practices, more homework, and the commensurate amount of more yelling--oops, did say that?]

So after a gourmet meal out of the blue box punctuated by some darn good peas (flash frozen, not canned), I turned to the dishes. It shouldn't surprise you that there were still dishes from breakfast.

My last task was to wash out the coffee pot. I was surprised to spill out a bunch of leftover coffee. Hunh. I made enough coffee for two this morning. But there was only me to drink it.

Bullied About

2007-01-06T13:41:00.000-05:00

I am very sorry to have to admit this. I am chastened and embarrassed to say it. I am confused and somewhat annoyed with myself, too.

I just don't get it.

I came home to see the 15-year-old beating the brains out of someone with a baseball bat. All in the name of good, clean fun.

That is good, teen (T) fun--at least according to Boys' Life and reviewers from Amazon and Wired. He was playing Bully.

So somehow, I just missed the idea that a game is not over the top, and is somehow redeemed because the violence is bloodless. Brains are not smeared on the sidewalk, so it's okay. See, I just don't get it.

I am watching the kids (my kids) pulverizing someone. And they are laughing. They are excited. They are egging each other on. Telling the 15-year old to have his character--named Jimmy--take another swing at the boy lying on the sidewalk with his hands in front of his face trying to protect himself. I, alone, am cringing. See, I'm not getting it, still.

It's supposed to be good because "Jimmy" helps kids being bullied. By using extreme violence. And the game is good because it doesn't reward Jimmy for bullying. See, if he beats up his bad-guy classmates he earns new ways to beat up the bad-guy classmates. This is, not considered extreme violence because his main weapons are his fists and an occasional trash can lid. No guns, knives or blood. See, I can't tell the difference between extreme and not so extreme. Still not getting it.

I interrupted the beating. "Hey, I thought that this game wasn't supposed to reward violence." The kids turned around and sheepishly smiled, then returned to the melee. I had to walk away. Not getting it.

"Doc!" you say. "Why were you surprised that a game with a name of Bully brought to you by the same folks who made car-jacking and killing cops into gameplay would be a bit violent? What were you thinking??"

One good thing happened, though. The kids misplaced the game. Get it?

That 70's Feeling

2006-12-31T22:13:00.000-05:00

Nostalgia for me meant the old people (parents of my friends, for example) who waxed about poodle skirts and hot rods. Our jr. high school had sock hops. Truman and Eisenhower were about as relevant to us as Garfield and Arthur--and not the cat or aardvark.

I found myself feeling a bit of the yearn for the kinder, gentler time of the 38th President, Gerald R. Ford (1913-2006). We went to the Capitol Rotunda to pay our respects. Me, the 12-year-old, and the 15-year-old.

12-year old: Why are we standing in this line?
Me: To pay our respects.
12-year old: Why?

I was stuck. Was it because he is a Michigan man? I ended up being weepy when we lost Bo, too. Was it because I remember him from my childhood, and he wasn't Richard Nixon? Was it because he was an object of the original Not Ready for Prime Time Players humor? Or the way that his brave wife made rehab into the modern penance for the rich and (in)famous? Or maybe because he shares my fondness for big yellow dogs?

Am I nostalgic for the time when there were such things as pro-choice, non-spinning republicans that oversaw the dismantling of a bad war? For a leader who used compromise as an agreement builder and integrity for his talisman? But was I making that up? I don't remember the 70's being as much fun as the show.

So as we snaked through the House side of the Capitol, and as we were rushed through the Rotunda and were denied a pause before the awesome statue of Sacajawea, I told the 12-year-old "All of the above."

And he looked at me like it was 1976, and there were bell bottoms and Gran Torinos.

Rules Rule the Season

2006-12-24T10:10:00.000-05:00

I sit here furiously typing (okay, furiously thinking about what to type. Okay, maybe just a little furious?) because I made up a rule. The rule is at least four thinkings each month. And it's getting to the end and I have only two. (Three if this actually gets posted.)

I am not a big fan of rules and obligations. We impose rules on ourselves. This four entries a month rule is a rule to impose discipline. I am not so good on that discipline-thing. So I trick myself with rules I make up. I usually break them, but I am not so hard on myself.

And now, here we are, at the time of year of obligations and expectations. There are a bunch of rules that we impose on ourselves. The big thing I heard this year was card trouble. "I need to get my cards done....I am so late this year....I haven't ever been THIS late....Do you think it's okay if they get there like the day after Christmas?"

But there is also the expectation that others have about the cards. You know, staying on the list. Reciprocating. Keeping in touch.

The 15-year-old is saving up for a new phone. He has become the evil superhero Phone-Destroyer. He's been through 3 so far this year. I said the next one was on his dime.

He had enough for a non-cool phone. The cool phone was in reach with after a few weeks of significant yard work.

I learned yesterday that he was back in the hole. Turns out that he was sneaking off to the mall after school to use his money to buy Christmas gifts for us. For us!?! I don't know how we raised a kid with his generosity and kindness. Yet somehow he assimilated these excellent qualities--maybe applied as rules.

Merry Christmas!

Paint Department

2006-12-14T21:48:00.000-05:00

The 15-year-old was in the kitchen, and we were putting away the groceries. Okay, I was putting away the groceries and he was talking.

Him: Today at school we were like we were the Home Depot paint department.
Me: Hunh?
Him: Well we were at our table at lunch and we realized that we were all lined up by color. The lightest to the darkest.

Me: [still confused]
Him: Well, Jay was out of order. So, we said that he needed to be restocked. And put in the right place.

Me: Oh. Well, where were you?
Him: It's like a color circle. From the lightest to the darkest but all not in a line but in a circle, from me to Avery.

What is wrong with other folk? It's a circle, dammit. Everyone is connected.

Rock and Roll Dead--Really

2006-12-09T07:56:00.000-05:00

The actual demise of "rock n roll" can be evidenced by one single event this week.

The Grammy Nominations.

Okay, you say. The Grammys [suck, are dumb or old, don't represent, whatever]. How could they identify any trend???

Well, they do. For example, the ridiculous increase in the number of categories (duo or group vs. duo or group who don't usually sing/rap together and in fact don't really sing/rap together but just get mashed up in production. This is really important when one of them is already DEAD] says something about what folks are listening to.

Anyway, speaking of dead, the Rock Singer Category nominees include 2 singers from the 60's, one from the 70's, and one nominee is singing a song from the 40's. And there aren't any chicks doing rock-n-roll. I guess this shows there ain't nothing new in rock-n-roll. (Sorry Beck!)

Go Mary J.

Full of Something

2006-11-29T21:39:00.000-05:00

The Spouse said something disturbing the other day.

Spouse: You know that we will still be in Iraq when the boyz are draft age.
Me: What the hell are you saying THAT for????

We have tried to raise the boyz to be responsible, to take responsibility, to be responsible for others. Is the payoff watching them ship off to Iraq?

Both have independently said that they would fight for their country. And that they would do their duty. Me, I am looking for swampland in Vancouver. Anyplace to save them.

Then I had an epiphany.

They wouldn't let me save them. And that I am proud of them. Proud every time they get up from their seat on the subway for an elderly man. Proud every time they hold the door open for people entering the school. Proud every time they bend down to hear a little kid's secret. Proud of every time they cringe at violence in a movie. Proud of every time I see them at a game, with their hands over their huge hearts, singing to the flag.

But I still have that swampland in the back of my head.