Zombie Kid Likes Turtles

Happy Halloween!

Boring for You = Therapeutic for Me

I spend a little bit of time on a good-sized message board, the focus of which is healthy cooking and lifestyles. The board is frequented, in general, by a large number of intelligent, interesting people from all over the world, several of whom I've met in real life.

For the most part, people behave and are nice to one another, although sometimes discussions will disintegrate into ugly battles. The battles can be pretty entertaining, but sometimes they're just uncalled for. Instead of starting one of those battles, I'm going to vent here about two unrelated topics that have pushed my buttons over the past couple of days.

1) Maybe I'm wrong, it wouldn't be the first time, but I'm pretty sure that when someone with a terminal illness goes in to hospice, the idea is that they're not going to recover. A woman posted this week that her friend with recurrent breast cancer can't take any more treatments and is going into hospice care. She got lots of sympathetic and sweet responses, and one that was just stupid:

I am so sorry to hear about your friend's fight with breast cancer. She
will be a winner with your support and the support of the other supper club members. A positive outlook is key to her recovery. I wish her all the good things that are sure to come her way with your love and support.

While I'm certain the woman who posted this meant well, it makes me want to kick her in the cyber teeth. Did she not read the original post or is she simply ignorant? Either way, something about it annoyed the crap out of me and I just needed to say it out loud.

2) There's a guy who posts frequently and adds a lot to the discussion. He is friendly, helpful, and has a good online demeanor. He lives in San Diego, so he's had a lot to say about the fires in California this week. He's been very helpful to several people who were looking for information about people they haven't been able to reach. He seems to be a truly nice guy. But he posted this today and it really rubbed me the wrong way:

4 more bodies found. Although it sounds like they may have been illegals as border patrol agents found them. News is saying death toll is up to 10 as a result of firestorms. Sad.

"Although"? Although what? Four more people died, although they don't really count because they were here illegally? What the hell?

If it were any number of other people who regularly tick me off with careless shit like this, and I were in the mood for a fight, I'd call him on it. But he's a decent guy, and he CAN'T have meant that the way it sounded.

So, there you have it. I realize it's of no interest to anyone but me, but I had to get those two things off my chest before I got too much more worked up about it.

Now I'm off to eat Thai food with my husband. Anyone want to place bets on what he's going to say to tick me off? I seem to be ready for a fight!

Random Thoughts

1) I have huge respect for people who do this blog thing every day. As I've mentioned before I *thought* I had a lot to say, but I seem to have overestimated my need to express myself. It turns out that the longer you go between entries, the more difficult it is to dive in. It's sort of like when you put off returning a phone call, and then you realize it's been too long, and you can't call now because that would just be weird. . .

2) I've become inexplicably addicted to Dancing with the Stars. There's really no way to explain it. I don't like "reality" programming (well, except for Top Chef and Project Runway, and one other that I absolutely REFUSE to admit to publicly) but I started watching Dancing with the Stars last season with my kids and somehow I got hooked. I'm fascinated by the motivation of the celebrities who agree to do it, and by the skill of the professional dancers. I also love the fact that the show provides a lucrative and public outlet for professional ballroom dancers who have worked their butts off in an area that traditionally provides little (if any?) financial reward or notoriety.

3) Today, thanks to my infidel friend Jake, I've been thinking about toast. I love toast. I love the smell of toast toasting toastily. I love the scritchy scratchy sound a dull knife makes as I spread the butter on across the crumby golden surface. I love the slightly crunchy but still tender toothsomeness that indicates toasty perfection. I especially love a warm piece of nutty whole-grain toast topped immediately with a thin slice of mild white cheese--so the cheese softens slightly but does not truly melt. Toast, in the words of my 7-year-old, rocks.

For Sara. . .

Two things. . .

Today I discovered the fascinating tool that is the Stumbleupon toolbar. Available at stumbleupon.com, this cool toolbar gathers users' interests and offers up seemingly random websites based on those interests. The user then "rates" each site according to whether he or she likes it or not. This, in turn, allows the tool to fine-tune the data and provide more "relevant" sites.

First, let me say that I realize this is a real time killer. Nonetheless, it's oddly compelling. I've spent the last half hour surfing idly through the sites it's given me, and it's been fascinating, to say the least.

Transition now to the following List of unusual deaths from Wikipedia.

My first thought when this popped up was what the hell?? But then I started reading. It's rather like an accident you just can't turn away from. I couldn't make myself stop reading. I have no idea what among my interests lead me to this, but I've learned a lot. I can't decide, though, which are more interesting: the unusual deaths among the early Romans or those of today's men and women. I think this may be my personal favorite--207 BC: Chrysippus, a Greek stoic philosopher, is believed to have died of laughter after watching his drunken donkey attempt to eat figs.[2]

It Would Be a Better World If My Friends Were in Charge!

I just read a journal entry by my friend Jake that is, in my opinion, the best commentary I have read on the Jena 6 controversy. Here, in Jake's words, is my opinion of situation . . .

Drastically reduce the charges against the Jena 6!

Granted, that doesn't have quite the same ring as "Free the Jena 6", but I have difficulty believing the justice is served by freeing six men who are apparently guilty of beating a fellow student. It is my belief that justice is better served by charging, trying, and, if found guilty, sentencing these gents appropriately.

And then going after the authorities who let this happen. Going after them hard.

Let's go back to the start on this one. The tree incident. Or rather, the nooses hanging from the tree. I'm not aware of any cultural context in which nooses hanging from a tree constitutes a welcoming gesture, but in the south, they send a very specific and unmistakable message. I give credit to the school principal for not playing dumb and immediately recommending the expulsion of the three students involved. Unfortunately, he was overruled and the incident was labelled a "prank" by the authorities.

This is precisely the sort of things our hate crimes laws are for. They're not about punishing someone for being a racist or beating someone up because they're gay. Hate crimes are crimes that are intended to terrorise a targeted segment of the population. They send a Message. I think it's safe to say that the nooses sent a message that's so clear that it would be condescending to try to explain it. That's what a hate crime is.

The rest of the story isn't very complicated. Race relations deteriorated and, in every incident, if a white person beat up or pulled a gun on a black person, they were either not prosecuted or else given probation. If a black person beat up a white person or had the audicity to wrestle away a gun that had been pulled on them, the prosecutor threw to book at them. It's really that simple.

And, when I say "threw the book", understand this: The white kid was beaten unconscious. It was not an inconsequential beating, although it wasn't serious enough to keep him from attending a function later that night. However, the prosecutor insisted on trying the men for attempted murder. Aside from the fact that, in a six on one fight, any serious "attempt" at murder is going to be more than just an attempt, the prosecutor had to claim that a tennis shoe was a "deadly weapon" in order to make the charge.

The Jena 6 face decades in jail. Obviously, that isn't right. I'm all for reducing the charge to simple battery, the same thing that the white kid who beat one of the Jena 6 not long before was charged with. Give them probation, or a few days in jail, or what ever is appropriate. That strikes me as more just than just letting them free.

I don't even really care about the noose-hangers at this point. They are effectively damned to their own pissant little lives of fear and stupidity. Sure, they probably should go to prison for what they did, but I'm not certain that's any worse than just letting them be who they are.

But the law enforcement community in Jena? Oh yeah, nail those bastards. One thing that has been made abundantly clear by this episode is that there are two justice systems in Jena, separate but not remotely equal. These folks are entrusted with serving the community and they have failed. They're like a priest who diddles choirboys, or a soldier who changes sides, or anyone else in a postion of trust who abuses and corrupts that trust. There's supposedly a special place in Hell for these types, but I don't have much faith in Hell. I am quite certain, however, that there's a special place in prison for them.

Leonard Pitts, if you ever need a smart white apprentice, I know just the right guy for the job. . .

Thanks, Jake, for letting me quote you.

My Geriatric Moment

This evening I was at a local restaurant with Davy and the girls. The chatty young server (her name was Synthia--with an "S") told us this story about one time when she was at Applebees playing Dungeons and Dragons with some friends. The point of the story is irrelevant, but I was fascinated by the idea of this group of people going to Applebees, of all places, to play D&D. Even more than that, I was surprised by the fact that people were still playing Dungeons and Dragons. And we're not talking about people my age.

So I ask Synthia how old she is. "Twenty-one," she tells me. To which I reply, "Wow. I didn't realize kids were still playing Dungeons and Dragons." KIDS???? WTF? Who am I, George Burns? Next thing you know I'm going to be out on the lawn with my Sansabelts hiked up to my chest, hollering at the neighborhood kids for riding their bikes in my grass.

When, exactly, did I turn 70?

I'm certainly not doing a very good job at keep up with this blog. I'm not a "blogger" by any means. But I'm determined to keep it, and here's why. Every now and then I feel like I have something important to say. Something absolutely worth the effort that I make by posting the entry and the effort that you make by logging in to read it.

Now is not one of those times.

And yet, I continue to type.

The incident that compelled me to post for the first time in a month is that I read a funny word--an insult, actually--on a comment to a blog entry at bravotv.com. In reaction to a blog entry about last night's Top Chef elimination, a viewer referred to a particulary dickish judge as a "jackhole."

Hah! Jackhole.

That made me laugh.

And that, my friends, is the end of this entry. . .

That took way too long. . .

Gonzales Resigns

Although I feel a little bit sorry for him. It's got to blow when you screw something up as badly as he has and everybody knows about it.

Just to get that other post off the top, I have one thing to say. . .

I hate mosquitoes.

The One Where I Talk About My Weight

Yeah. I know. It's the elephant in the room (ha--I'm still so clever, even through this veil of virtual tears). Those of you who know me in person know I busted my ass and lost a bunch of weight two years ago. 63 pounds, to be specific, which is no paltry amount when we're talking about a 5 foot frame. I spent, what, maybe 3 days at my goal weight? And then it started creeping back. I weighed myself yesterday after making the disturbing discovery that very little in my closet fits me. And here's the disappointing truth. Over the past two years, I've gained back 40 of the 63 pounds I'd lost.

Crap!

To anyone who feels compelled to think "Well, duh, if you go back to your old lazy-ass, eat-anything-you-want ways, of course you're going to gain it back," I would like to point out that I have not, in fact, returned to my old, lazy-ass, eat-anything-I-want ways. In fact, I'm still working out regularly and I'm still trying to be aware of everything I eat and make good choices each day. There is no question that I'm doing things better than I was before. But obviously it's not enough.

So, in the inspiring words of Sean (who, I'm quite sure was NOT referring to his weight when he posted these thoughts in his blog):

"hmmm...

what am i doing

i think something needs to change"

Yes, that much is clear. But what?

Figs for Sale!

Fresh, ripe, juicy, drippy figs for sale.

Not really. I'll give them to you for free. Show up with a ladder and help yourself.

Seriously!!!

My top-notch, high-$$$ education fails me. Again.

More often than I care to consider, my education proves itself to have giant, gaping holes. Or maybe it's my brain. Either way, it's actually quite shocking how much I don't know.

Heracles = Hercules.

I wonder if there is more than one way to spell "duh"?

Mika Brzezinski of MNSBC rips Paris report

Testing, testing. Testing my ability to add a video directly to my blog.
How fancy am I?

Mika Brzezinski is my hero

I never heard of her before today, but if you haven't seen this clip of Mika Brzezinski refusing to report entertainment gossip as news, you should watch it. The whole thing. It's only about 3 minutes long, although the clock in the bottom right-hand corner shows that this took place over several hours. This woman deserves a Pulitzer Prize or something!

Mika Takes a Stand

Green Snakes, and Brown Snakes, and Possums, Oh MY

This morning I went out to put the grill cover back on the grill (yummy fajitas last night, but that's a different post altogether) and I saw a sweet green grass snake sunning itself on my fence. I saw sweet, because compared the the giant rat snake from a month or so ago, this guy was a kitten. And then I gathered up all my courage (because even though I know little green snakes are harmless, they all give me the heebie jeebies) and I decided to continue on my mission. So, I lifted up the grill cover and what was underneath it, but ANOTHER snake. This one, I can tell you with some confidence, was a baby rat snake. Whether it's the offspring of our friend the gigatic monster rat snake, I can't say, but it was small. And get this. I took a deep breath, shook myself off, and continued with the job at hand. Albeit with one eye constantly roving between the two snakes.

So, then, proud of myself for doing what needed to be done in the face of adversity, I rewarded myself with a tour around my yard to inspect the bird feeders and see what was blooming, what needed pruning, etc. And what did I find, lying DEAD under my peanut feeder, but a young (did I mention dead?) opossum---with ants crawling out of its eye sockets, nostrills, and mouth.

Blech.

All of which begs the question: why the hell can't my husband put the grill cover back on the grill when he's done? This is really ALL his fault.

I need a drink!

Another in the series of amusing quotes from my delicate six-year-old daughter

Mia (face red with effort): Pfffjfffffhhhhhttttthhhhhh.
Jenny (concerned): Gosh, Mia. Do you need to poop?
Mia (casually): Nope. It was just a toot. It was a good one, though. Kind of relaxing. Like Yoga.

My Crappy Day

Lots of crappy stuff happened today. Nothing major, but little, niggly, crappy stuff. I sent Jenny and the girls to the neighborhood pool so I could work this morning. They showed up at the door 10 minutes after they left because the pool was closed because of some strange chemical imbalance. Mia took it as a personal affront and spent the next several hours moaning about how it wasn't fair. Well, most of the next several hours. She spent some of that time fighting with her sister and some of that time crying because I didn't plan the right lunch.

I'm tired. I need a vacation from summer vacation. And we're only in week 2. . .

Pleh.

And then there was the news that my beautiful and beloved personal trainer has been promoted and is leaving my gym to become the fitness manager at another location. He told me today, and I swear to you, it was all I could do not to cry. How pathetic is that? I really like the guy he's set me up with, and change is good, and blah, blah, blah. But I'm really, really, really going to miss Russell. Not to mention his fine, fine ass.

Sigh.

My favorite image of the week

I read a blog called b.rox by a guy who lives in Mid-City New Orleans. The writer, a guy named Bart, has become a somewhat reluctant community leader in post-Katrina New Orleans. He works at a university in NO and his wife is a public school teacher. They live in a predominately minority area, and they're trying to stay there. But few of their neighbors returned after the storm, and the neighborhood, as I understand it, is still in pretty bad shape.

His entries are sometimes funny, sometimes painful, but always insightful. It's been a rough couple of years for Bart, but it's people like him who are keeping New Orleans alive.

That was a long introduction to the following excerpt from his 5/31 entry:

On our side of the street, two teenage boys are lounging atop a car. They’re acting all thuggish and hard, as teenage boys are wont to do, but they’re playing Connect Four. That cracks me up.

I just love this. This is what New Orleans means to me. It is a city of such dichotomy that it's hard to get your head around it sometimes. But the mental image of two tough thugs on top of a car playing a kids' game is going to stick with me for a long time.

Sensitive Issues

If you're reading this, you probably know what I do for a living. And many of you do the same thing. While I wouldn't say it's a passion, creating educational materials (that's mainly textbooks and testing materials, for those of you not up on the industry jargon) is definitely a good gig that allows me a great deal of flexibility--and the money's not bad, either. Every once in a while I get to work on a project that I believe is really effective and meaningful, but for the most part, most of the big publishers are producing the same mediocre stuff under different titles. As they try to maximize profits by meeting the needs of a huge audience, they often miss the mark completely.

One of the big issues in educational publishing is "sensitivity." It's been an issue as long as I've been in the business. For a long time now certain topics have been off limits. Obviously, you can't write stories about sex and violence. You can't write about religious holidays or Halloween because someone might be offended. Minorities and the elderly must be shown in a positive light--they can't be depicted as criminal or feeble, respectively. Children on bikes must always wear helmets and people in cars must have on their seat belts. Physical handicaps must be depicted with regularity, but, for the most part, the handicap must not be an issue. Fictional characters must represent people from a variety of ethnic and social groups. Magic and magical creatures are completely off limits, as are witches, ghosts, demons, and vampires; although, strangely, trolls and goblins are okey dokey.

There are some sensitivity issues that might surprise you. Children must not be depicted playing cards or using dice as a part of a board game--because cards and dice can be used in gambling. In math activities, children may use number cubes, but you may never ever call them dice. Children shouldn't be depicted consuming foods of little nutritional value, such as ice cream, candy, or chips. And they definitely shouldn't drink cola. Many publishers try to stay away from anthropomorphism although some will allow talking animals in stories for Kindergarten and first grade.

Again, these are issues I've been aware of for a long time; they're part of the educational publishing culture, so to speak, and they don't surprise me any more. At least they didn't surprise me until I received a document from a client today that left me almost speechless. In addition to the things I've mentioned above, and a bevy of other similar issues, the following are off limits:
* References to animals mating (Hmmm. That's going to make teaching life sciences a little tricky, but I'm not working on science right now, so okay. I resolve to avoid writing about mating animals!)
* People throwing up (Frankly, this doesn't come up much in the materials I've worked on, but still, this one surprised me. Does some group have religious objections to throwing up? Is it political? I don't get it!)
* Embarrassing words, such as "breast," "brassiere," and (I'm not making this up) "toilet" (What the hell?)
* Physical unattractiveness (such as obesity) as the focus of a selection if the issue is not resolved positively
* Men wearing earrings
* Biographies about people shown to have led less than exemplary lives (Whom does that leave, exactly?) or about living people who may not continue to lead exemplary lives (I'd pull out my crystal ball for that one, but I'm pretty sure crystal balls are off limits, too.)

But here's my absolute favorite "sensitive issue" from the new list:
* Classification of people as animals (e.g., "People, like other animals, need food to live.")
Seriously? How can this be a "sensitive issue"? People *are* animals. Where's the controversy?

These things make me insane. I completely understand that in order to stay in business, educational publishers have to sell textbooks. And in order to sell textbooks, publishers have to make sure they're not pissing anyone off. But when we get to the point that we're avoiding actual basic facts, like the fact that people are animals, in mass market products, I don't really see the point.