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Showing posts from March, 2010

March Out.

I tried to make a .gif out of the pictures, but I couldn't get the image to move.  We have a chalkboard in our kitchen/dining room (whatever that combination room is called).  Every year, on March 1st, I like to draw a Lion and change it slightly every other day or so until it turns into a Lamb.  Like all good traditions, it seems to have taken on a life of its own.  This year we added our little flat friend in one of the pictures.

Why Can’t We All Just Get Along?

The tragic case of bullying leading to the suicide of a 15 year-old girl in South Hadley, MA has been in the papers for a while, now.   Yesterday, charges were filed against nine of the bullies. I’m not sure what to make of “bullying” as a criminal offense.   It is obviously malevolent behavior, but does the impact on the victim dictate where it crosses into a criminally punishable act? Apparently this is the case, as the nine bullies have been charged with a “violation of civil rights, with bodily harm resulting.” I’m not sure if the public programs that include role playing, colorful signs, and a No Bullying Policy really address the problem or make it a joke. Isn’t “bullying” a rather cutesy way to describe the already illegal acts of assault, bodily threat, and intimidation? And while my heart truly aches for the unimaginable agony the parents of the teen who committed suicide must now face, who, other than the girl herself, is truly responsible for it? For their bullying acti

Pants Don’t Lie

A recent tweet from a bloggy friend , reminded me of just how empowering new pants can be – given, of course, that those new pants are purchased in celebration of reaching weight-loss goals. As a measurement of “You Go Girl!” enthusiasm, there is little that beats the need- to-buy-smaller pants-metric. But the pants-metric is a fickle friend – it’s a bitch really.   It doesn’t allow cheaters. It’s as ruthless and reality based as . . . well, reality.   Sure, you can buy a new cut of jeans that favor your best assets, but let’s face it, unless those jeans are smaller than the ones you currently own, it’s basically a cop-out – a way to infuse a jaunty new look into a tired, demoralizing wardrobe.   Being reduced to wearing your “fat pants” is just that bad. I ought to know.    I’ve been wearing my “fat pants” since January. I have some follow-up questions on the brutal truth of pants.  How many pairs should I own for how many sets of circumstances?   Do I need to keep pants in stoc

Getting Juiced

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After a rough week of writing, emailing, and calling our federal leaders, all in a vain attempt to head-off the historic expansion of government which nonetheless occurred on Sunday night, it’s time to sit back, relax, recuperate, and revive the soul. To that end, we’ve decided to get juiced. This is not another cocktail fact finding mission leading us down the wayward path toward dipsomania despite the similarity of the lovely book filled with pages of caressable pictures of delicious looking concoctions. This is about extracting the liquidy goodness out of vegetables (and occasionally fruits) and drinking it. Yum. This is Eve (yes, we do name our small appliances), our Breville Juice Fountain (juicer). It’s quiet and strong, and able to extract 16 oz. of creamy goodness out of three carrots, three celery sticks, and bunch of parsley. The book gives over 400 juice recipes to try out. We’re going to concentrate on the vegetable juice recipes for now. It simply amazes me how

Hear ye! Hear ye!

Here . Yeah.

My Reeducation

I’m excited. Now that Congress and the Administration have institutionalized the idea that rights are government granted and that one’s rights cannot be discriminated against because of pre­-existing conditions, I’m going to Harvard! My reasoning, which follows that of the majority of our Congressmen, is that in this country, education, much like health care, is considered a right granted to us by the government: a right to the products and efforts of other men’s minds, rather than a freedom to act in one’s best interest. Although my GPA, test scores, and transcript may reveal academic achievement below current Harvard standards, it could be beyond my control. These liabilities notwithstanding, in dismissing my claim that I have a right to the education it offers, Harvard would be discriminating against my pre-existing conditions.   Harvard must therefore be forced to accept my application for admission under all circumstances.   Anything less than full matriculation is a grave soci

3 Good Things (pinched nerve edition)

1. Mmmm. Motrin. 300 mg, 3 times a day. 2. Ahhhhh. Heating pad. 3. Zzzzzzz. Skelaxin. Seriously - that's the name of a muscle relaxer. I wish I had come up with that name. I wonder who gets to name the drugs in a drug company.  That would be an awesome job.  Sadly, I'm not taking Skelaxin, but the name of my generic muscle relaxer isn't nearly as cool. Is it just me, or does anyone else think of the sister before her wedding in Sixteen Candles when they hear "muscle relaxers"? In a "don't look for zebras" response to my question about spinal compression, my doctor prescribed some muscle spasm treatment for a few days to see if the range of motion in my neck improves and the throbbing ache in my shoulder and arm subside any.

Poetry in Music

These are videos of two of the song that we are singing in our intergenerational homeschool chorus this year. Sadly, they are nothing much to watch, but they were the best video/audio performances I could find of the particular arrangements we are singing. Both songs are vocally interesting (to me, an untrained singer, this means it takes a while to learn how to hit the correct notes), but the poetry into song aspect is lovely. Happily, whilst I have been chagrined by other matters, I have been going around singing these lovely tunes with my daughter. Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924. Part Two: Nature II WILL there really be a morning? Is there such a thing as day? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they? Has it feet like water-lilies? Has it feathers like a bird? Is it brought from famous countries Of which I have never heard? Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor! Oh, some wise man from the skies! Please to tell a little pilgrim W

The President’s Pekingese

I know that President Obama has a Portuguese Water Dog , and that he’s done all right by Bo in not giving him the pants-less look so popular on those poor dogs.   The dogs I’m talking about, however, are the lap dogs his political stardom has attracted in Congress:   the ones who would not only sit on his lap, but betray their sworn oaths and the Constitution in order to sit at his feet . (Warning:  the linked video is very distasteful.   In it we see a fully grown woman whose lap dog status refers more to the noun form of to lick rather than the comfy spot made for a small dog when its owner sits down. ) Why am I picking on Pelosi? As the videos show, she is the self-appointed congressional champion of Obamacare legislation, and as such, has been whipped into a trance-like state, willing to do whatever it takes to pass the bill – except understand it. But we shouldn’t worry too much about the unprecedented expansion of the federal government, its control over our choices,

You Know What Thursday Brings

Find it at The Little Things .

Why Can't I Write Like That?

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation: Thomas Jefferson regarding King George III as written in The Declaration of Independence

Taxes: A Love Story

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Once upon a time, a man and a woman decided that the time was right, so they picked a date and hunkered down to do their taxes.   Because each of them disdained the sheer burden of collecting, figuring, and understanding the endless forms associated with the process, the man and woman both knew that the evening was no longer theirs, but belonged to that unpleasant task.   After a significant amount of confusion, they were finally able to determine that last year’s tax return software – originally purchased because their previously long-term paid tax preparer had not filed their returns until August two years before despite his repeated claims that the paperwork had been submitted – did not work for this year’s returns. Relying on that old adage, they read the instructions, s l o w l y, and were verily, if not merrily, on their way. Were you to listen in that night, here’s what you may have heard: “W-2s, income: check.”   “Well, what the hell is that piece of paper leftover?”   “What’

The Other Kind of Men

How sharp the look of leverage may seem, With narrowed eyes belying wisdom won, And tightly drawn, a smile whose act would deem, To speak content , his will on others – done. How large this victor bears his confidence, How brief this staged event until it’s learned, His stolen gains’ required consequence – Their use destroyed as they could not be earned. No pretense, envy, nor excuse conceived Production which is far beyond that ken; Yet driven to live, ideas from whom achieved The known, this world – the other kind of men. And thus, by those, who this will understand, Is shared the name, the glory, that is Man. “Francisco, where are they now – the other kind of men?” “Now they’re not wanted.” “I want them. Oh God, how I want them!” “When you do, you’ll find them.”   Dagny and Francisco in Atlas Shrugged

No Sector Left Behind

At least he has a clear agenda. Yesterday, the President Obama called for a much needed  overhaul in public education .  While the No Child Left Behind Act , sprung from an unlikely alliance between former President George W. Bush and the late Senator Kennedy, left behind much to be desired regarding the improvement of government education, President Obama's proposal is not so much of an overhaul as a deeper disintegration of the failing educational system. The administration would replace the law’s pass-fail school grading system with one that would measure individual students’ academic growth and judge schools based not on test scores alone but also on indicators like pupil attendance, graduation rates and learning climate. You read that right. Pupil attendance and “learning climate” are proposed to be part of evaluating school success. That seems pretty clear to me: show up and we’ll keep throwing taxpayer money at the guard-like activities directors (formerly known as teache

Irish Movie Craic

If y’are a holiday and movie hound, such as meself, you may be wantin’ to catch up on some Irish films this weekend (I’m done trying to sound Irish now – you’re welcome). Kevin Cullen of The Boston Globe offers his choices , and here are my favorites. Oddly, they are all from the 90s. The Secret of Roan Inish (1994) – Beautifully filmed story of a little girl who explores her connection to a Celtic fairy tale (could be a little disconcerting and magically confusing to children).   I enjoyed the movie for the independence and strength exhibited by the little girl and the observations on and scenes regarding a life so dependent on the ocean.   One of my favorites, John Lynch, plays a small role. Into the West (1992) – More children taking control of their own destinies. The movie is part American boys’ adventure, part Irish fairy tale, and part life triumphs over tragedy love story.   The youngest boy is particularly engaging while Gabriel Byrne plays the drunken father horribly wel

Short and Sweet

Practice Tweet TDC has this week’s ORU. Go there ASAP. ‘K? http://bit.ly/9whXd3 Clearly, using Twitter to its fullest advantage is a skill I haven’t yet developed. No Defeat After many years reveling in my upper body strength, I discovered during my last workout that I have been reduced to doing girly push-ups .   This is a serious blow to my ego and will not stand long I tell you ! Balance Sheet There’s no more putting it off.   It’s as inevitable as death and taxes .    Oh wait – it is taxes.   And on that blue note, I wish my readers a very productive (and relatively painless) weekend.

The Perversion of Government

Earmarks I’m trying to understand exactly what congressional earmarks are.   I found this definition from the Executive Office of Management and Budget : The Administration defines "earmarks" as "funds provided by the Congress for projects, programs, or grants where the purported congressional direction (whether in statutory text, report language, or other communication) circumvents otherwise applicable merit-based or competitive allocation processes, or specifies the location or recipient, or otherwise curtails the ability of the executive branch to manage its statutory and constitutional responsibilities pertaining to the funds allocation process." [bold mine] This definition implies that earmarks are unethical at best, illegal at worst.   If this is so, how can they knowingly exist at all? Why is cutting them to a certain level or of interest to Congress and the President? Neither the members of Congress nor the President can agree on what actually constitu

Philosophy: Who Needs It?

A musical composition by Chuck Butler inspired by Ayn Rand's 1974 address to West Point graduates. Philosophy: Who Needs It?   (via HBL )

Virgin No More

I’ve been meaning to post on our experience seeing Ann Hampton Callaway perform in New York City.   She was wonderful. She has an incredibly smooth and sultry deep voice and she scats. I hate scat!   But for some reason, I liked the sound of it when she did it.   It could have been the atmosphere, the intimate swanky lounge with the skyline of Manhattan across Central Park (as viewed from the 5 th floor of the Time-Warner building on Columbus Circle) behind her, or it could have been the cozy company of my most favorite person in the entire world outside of – well, let’s face it – sometimes even including myself, or it could have actually been her tremendously cool dulcet tones.   Most likely, it was a combination of all three. Accompanied by Pete Washington on bass, Willie Jones III on drums, and “the fabulous” Ted Rosenthal on piano, she sang old standards, new ballads, and some songs she had written – each one seemingly more thrilling than the last. Don’t ask because I can’t re