you make the call

(wow--it's been awhile, lol.)

previously i've posted about willing myself away from most media during these last throes of the election. my residence in a non-swing state, tivo and npr limit my exposure to the worst of it. but some has leaked through:

a telemarketer in wisconsin by the name of mr. zoromski was prepared to interrupt people during their dinner hours to encourage them to vote republican. but when he got the script saying “you need to know that barack obama has worked closely with domestic terrorist bill ayers, whose organization bombed the u.s. capitol, the pentagon, a judge’s home and killed americans,” he packed it in. paid to make nuisance calls, this guy got sent over the edge.

at a town-hall style meeting, mccain told an audience member who said she thought that obama was an “arab,” “no, ma’am, he’s a decent family man.” we'll skip lightly over obama actually being an american, but being an arab precludes this? this dialogue was repeated enough to bring colin powell out of the woodwork steaming mad.

palin's flogging small-towners and branding them as "real" americans, and us city-folk as "something else". "the others". does she or her mullet-headed fans realize that nearly 80% of americans live in urban areas now? until 2002, her 1st-dude of a husband was a member of a group that wants alaska to secede from the union. very pro-america, that.

libby dole's tv ads proclaiming her opponent for her north carolina senate seat to be "godless". the woman to whom she is likely losing is a former sunday school teacher.

representative robin hayes, (also from north carolina -- besides winstons, what else are they smoking down there?) who prefaced his comments by saying it was important to “make sure we don’t say something stupid, make sure we don’t say something we don’t mean.” republicans, he reminded the crowd, were kind people. plus, he added, the liberal media had shown itself eager to distort such remarks. with the crowd duly chastened, he accused obama of “inciting class warfare” and said that “liberals hate real americans that work and achieve and believe in god.” this is the same guy who claimed the only way to victory in iraq was to convert all them muslims to christianity.

rush limbaugh: "it is striking how unqualified obama is and, and how this whole thing came about with, within the democrat party. i think it really goes back to the fact that nobody had the guts to stand up and say no to a black guy." limbaugh continued: "i think this is a classic illustration here where affirmative action has reared its ugly head against them. it's the reverse of it. they've, they've ended up nominating and placing at the top of their ticket somebody who's not qualified, who has not earned it."

in nh, a woman who'd voted early yesterday said she wouldn't vote for obama because he "is a communist."

dopy voters have always existed. slimy attack ads are nothing new, nor is negative smearing, so as disheartening as it to me (yeah, i remain a softie progressive, can't-we-all-get-along, but stay-the-hell-out-of-my-bedroom kinda gal) i accept its reality. but the willingness, the eagerness, to stoop to racism and feed people's fears makes me sick. in this, the 21st century, republicans are stirring up witch hunts, anti-american committees and dragging their hapless god through their fetid muck. the aggressive ignorance, combined with the damning of intelligence and thoughtful discourse of and by the far-right loonies who seem to be taking over the republican party make me wistful for the insight and mental agility of men like buckley and goldwater. creationism? are you fucking kidding me? (in this land of opportunity, and there's a monkey trial on tv --b.b.)

alberto gonzales is the only guy i can recall resigning from the administration under duress. even then bush praised him as "a man of integrity, decency and principle” and then complained of the “months of unfair treatment” that preceded the resignation.“it’s sad,” bush said, asserting that gonzales’s name had been “dragged through the mud for political reasons.” other than giving his cronies free reign, bush had no economic policy. lookie there! selling pencils and apples on the street corner likely won't cut it these days. although barrel-wearing might work as bold fashion statement. his fierce cowboy determination to go it alone in this increasingly connected world has isolated and shamed us in ways previously unimaginable.

there is an arrogance in the air surrounding the bushies that is suffocating. nobody has walked the plank admitting failure, and in a show of frat-brother loyalty, bush has called out not a one. a senate leader, an m.d. (!) who could diagnose a comatose woman via videotape better than her own personal physicians; george tenet’s wmd “slam-dunk,” cheney’s “we will be greeted as liberators,” rumsfeld’s avidity to promulgate a minimalist military doctrine, together with the tidy theories of a group who call themselves “neo-conservative” (not one of whom has ever worn a military uniform) have: de-stabilized the middle east; empowered north korea, iran, and syria; unleashed sectarian carnage in iraq among tribes who have been cutting each others’ throats for over a thousand years; cost the lives of over 4,600 american soldiers, with another 32,000 seriously injured troops saved only by very modern triage and 160 journalists also killed. but not to worry: democracy is on the march in the middle east. just ask hamas. and the neocons—bright people, all—are now clamoring, “on to tehran!”

“the trouble with our times is that the future is not what it used to be.” ~~ paul valery

let's hope this is as true tomorrow as it was yesterday.

this is the most important election of my generation, and possibly since world war II. let's rock the vote, everybody.

how do i not love thee?

let us count the ways...

up-front apologies to bill and leaving aside my aversion and overexposure to expensive weddings and even the institution of marriage. i will discount the behind-the-scenes mayhem at my place of employ that's concurrent with most events. at least once a weekend i do a hammah-dance of "can't touch this." but this one?

a glorious day that should make the entire world wish it lived in this city. sunny, with that slightly briny breeze blowing sailboats across the charles and frisbees and footballs across the commons.

5-figure wedding.

11:15 scheduled start-time for ceremony. 90% of the guests fidgeting in their seats. no groom. dad whips out his cell. he's looking for parking. huh? you bought validated parking in the garage. while he claims to be circling the block with his homies, bride is hurling upstairs, alternating with sips of champagne.

chatting up the officiant while we all wait, he tells me in their pre-whatever interview, the husband-to-be seemed "miserable." silently, i wonder if this is an expensive shot-gun wedding.

11:25: groom arrives. ok, we can start. nope. neither the groom's mother nor the bride's father is yet on-site. what kind of parent shows up late for their own kid's big day?

11:45: at last we can go. i help arrange the bride for her grand entrance. her 4-foot train is filthy with shoe-prints. nothing to be done now. ffs, who was stomping on her dress before she even saw anybody?

"i do." everybody claps and cheers.

reception: pictures, drinking, happy people oh-so-badly dressed. "what not to wear" should have been filming. weird, kind of, because the bride looked storybook pretty and her bridesmaids too were elegant in taupe satin cocktail dresses that were perfect for an afternoon wedding. very wise she hadn't asked an aunt for help with all that.

meal: usual hiccups of "oh, i can't have dairy," and "oh, my kid can't have wheat," blah, blah. we're used to that.

appetizers: bridal attendant returns to the kitchen with groom's plate of shrimp. he's ALLERGIC to it. shellfish of any kind will kill him. WHAT? his wife didn't know this? or didn't care? he never saw the menu? later, i discover together they have a 12-year-old son. even if they went their separate ways for awhile as young accidental parents sometimes do, how could this have escaped everybody?

people in unhappy or unraveling relationships often complain of their partner's lack of consideration or self-centeredness. i have been a painfully close witness to the disenfranchisement this creates, as well as the resulting resentment and heartbreak. with the reality of human nature, i can understand the deterioration that may occur through years, particularly in people who were never very outer-directed in their empathy.

my family's fractured dynamic never wove a "happily ever after" sampler pillow for me. but this? some ladies' magazine my mom read used to (?) have a column called "can this be marriage be saved?" i often thought it should be called "should this marriage be saved?" horrible but obvious question on this couple's wedding day. jeebus.

stop making no sense

working lots of hours, filled with barely contained disgust and even something approaching sadness, as well as this weird sense of aversion, i've been swearing off my usual news outlets this last week or so. the base corruption at the heart of the imminent bail-out (did you know 90% of american home-owners are in good standing on their mortgages?). i also suspect this $700 billion figure is being cooked up with the same crystal ball (or is it crystal meth?) that estimated the cost of the fucking big dig. *leaders* in both the senate and house have been deluged by negative feedback from voters on this anal fiscal rape, yet not one is willing to defy lobbyists so close to election day. the "let's play opposite land" of mccain's apparent untethering to reality makes me sick. no longer riding around on the "straight-talk express", he flails like an epileptic drowning in the undertow. obama has said nothing of substance recently which steams me too. (although, perhaps he's taking a page from fdr's playbook and refusing to become smeared or attached to our era's economic hooverville? hh kept asking for help, even after fdr won the election, but prior to being inaugurated. fdr told him over and over to go pound sand. buchanan leaned on lincoln too, but he stayed above the free-state/slave-state fray til actually in the white house.)

if not for sadists in my life who insist on sending me clips, i would not have seen any of the couric-palin mini-series unfolding on cbs. cringe-worthy doesn't even begin to approach the lack of articulation shown by this woman. sentences to nowhere, anybody? to wit:

COURIC: And when it comes to establishing your world view, I was curious, what newspapers and magazines did you regularly read before you were tapped for this — to stay informed and to understand the world?

PALIN: I’ve read most of them again with a great appreciation for the press, for the media —

COURIC: But what ones specifically? I’m curious.

PALIN: Um, all of them, any of them that have been in front of me over all these years.

COURIC: Can you name any of them?

PALIN: I have a vast variety of sources where we get our news.

never mind my persnickety twitch at her lack of noun-NOUN agreement, but is she so stoopid she can't produce the name of a single newspaper or magazine? (rhetorical. puh-leeze, don't prolong this.) how's that look for thinking on one's feet? bush had the hubris to admit he refuses to even read the paper. ok, so she isn't there yet. it clearly doesn't occur to her that reading is fun-duh-mental and might help her public speaking? never mind being able to hit back some softballs lobbed her way by couric.

it's just further proof of the absolute disdain the republican party holds for the american people. toss in a bimbo so everybody gets distracted (that means *you* american media!!!) from the real and fetid messes everywhere.

"morning in america"? then please, don't wake me up.

noodle note

much like an editor's note...

while doing a quick search for the girdle image down below, i was reminded of a few tidbits for which i didn't have time this morning.

the contraptions women once strapped on under suits and chemises, even in the hottest of weather, (liz taylor in "cat on a hot tin roof", anybody?) weren't really designed to make a size 14 look like a 6. the concept was to disguise and restrain any jiggling girly bits as much as possible. even mary tyler moore "slept" in a bra as mary richards on that pull-out couch. very few women then were all that FAT, ya know? it was prudishness on display, not the concealment of piggishness.

marilyn monroe's dress size is often slagged about to make modern fat women feel better somehow. we've all seen her lost eyes and jello on springs walk. we've seen her upskirted in the "seven year itch" and steam-whistled in "some like it hot". (where she actually was in trouble with the studio over her weight, which was then her heaviest at about 140 on her 5'6" frame...) curvy, buxom, female -- fat? no way. most of her clothes and all of her costumes were custom-made, so her *size* is kinda moot. her studio stats put her at a 23" waist. fat? uh, no. women were actually smaller -- thinner-- so vintage sizes correspond much differently to today's bodies.

we'll leave this at the impossibility for a big-busted/small-hipped woman to buy a fitted dress off the rack. not to mention how the digits then skew. mock the amount of clothes i may seem to have, but i can count my dresses on less than 2 hands. i can't zipper a size 14 dress, but a size 6 skirt fits just fine. men will never get this, i guess. nor will they get the number obsession that stretches from the closet to the scale. (oh, it's getting late and my noodle is wandering...)

lastly, i read an interview with an actor in that show "swingtown", which takes place in the 70s. he's frequently shot poolside and looks very trim with nice abs. he was complaining about having to drop weight for the role and always being starving -- because peeps back then were so much thinner. imagine that. most actors are fanatics about their weight and bodies, especially those not on the a-list and so vying for parts. has our national appetite increased that much? not everybody smoked then, and nobody on the show does, lol. even sarah michelle gellar, this summer much mocked for her cellulite, warned that *we* regular peeps shouldn't try to look like them, since being skinny is soooooooo part of their job.

we'll leave aside the freaky-skeery skinny out there, in the celeb skeletor-land of girl-womenz like keira knightley, courtney cox and victoria beckham. dried figs to marilyn's melons?

me? i just wanna fit in those damn pants, lol.

other ladies' pants

perhaps it should be "pants"? ya know, the air quotation mark kinda thing?

yesterday i had a pre-production meeting with a co-worker. we both were wearing fitted black skirts that fell slightly above the knee. she is about my height, and about 12 years my junior. she mostly wears skirts, and i'm frequently struck by how the legs of somebody so young can so utterly lack muscle tone.

she shifted in her chair and i caught a glimpse of very ugly beige. omg. yup. she was sausage-stuffed into some sort of control garment. shapewear. bodywear. what would it be called? bigger than a girdle cuz it went past her upper thigh.

the owner was incredulous in finding a news article about this stuff. we have more than once poked our fingers at somebody who could visually benefit. am i shocked that she was wearing it? actually, yeah. it never occurred to me. i don't think of her as "big". not shapely, really, but very far from objectionable, as the owner might put it.

and i sped back in time to junior high and girls stuffing their bras. what happens when the boy sees what is not, or nowadays, what actually IS, contained within? and does it make like a boingo sound, or maybe a squishy noise, when it's sprung free?

jeebus.

long pants, the ladies' version

a quick tally today shows it's been 54 days since i've worn pants. looks to be sunny and warm for awhile still, too. in my previous job, the kitchen was so swampy, i wound up having to wear water-proof clogs and cheap black pants everyday to prevent getting slimed.

the owner's dictum, the mini-staycation i enjoyed, the stunning string of gorgeous weather, my new job that often has me going days without even entering the kitchen (which is often empty anyway) all have brought a very pleasant wardrobe change. the icing on this cake is my diminishing size. skirts that haven't slipped over my butt in years are now out and about. i'm also enjoying the calf extension and hip-sway a girl gets walking in pretty high heels.

the mouse turd in the layer cake? i'm still not yet small enough for my old slacks. i'm holding weight in places i never did and it's being hormonally stubborn. phooey. the first month or so of working out regularly i watched pounds evaporate. yup, very good for an instant gratification gal comme moi. although i'm getting back into more and more outfits, the depletion of me is now achingly slow. i know all about melting fat and building muscle and i'm working hard -- feeling that pang of superiority watching chubsters take a stroll on the treadmill, while i sweat my ass off. literally, i guess, just not fast enough for my liking.

ok, enough whining. it doesn't burn many kcals. off to the gym. i have to have size 4 slacks in my near future. :)

church and state are no longer separate here

a tyrant must put on the appearance of uncommon devotion to religion. subjects are less apprehensive of illegal treatment from a ruler whom they consider god-fearing and pious.

~~aristotle

i have gone on here about bush's terrifying world view that armageddon will make everything alright. he trammels the constitution and sovereignty of nations, yadda yadda. now we've got his demon redux in an up-do. palin believes god wants a pipeline and that invading iraq was part of *his plan". her young unwed pregnant daughter is following god's will.

my own faith (or lack thereof) in god aside, i am sick to death of people speaking for him. their hubris in claiming he speaks TO THEM. directly to them. ffs!!! if he's all that, isn't he kinda busy???

GAHHH!

where would jesus drill?

it's a small world, redux

a ny times reporter this week offered up his impressions from talking to many "average mohammeds" in cairo. he spoke with dozens of peeps in cafes, markets and university quads. with both mccain and his pitbull eager to blow up more places and show the world who's da boss, i found it deeply disturbing.

it was a sentient and nuanced piece -- the reason i still read the news. the majority in that region distrusts its government and disbelieves the msm -- that outlet seeming to be no more than a propaganda arm for _____________(insert mubarak or another hookah-pal here.) further, they will not be swayed from thinking that israel and the u.s. are in cahoots on all world matters, large and small.

he found no one who thought al queda was responsible for the attacks on 9/11. no one. how could a few guys in remote caves pull off something so devastating? they all had *incontestable* truth that no jews went to work at the world trade center that morning. (pentagon never seems to figure in these sorts of things, but i don't imagine that bloc as much of a haven for semites anyway.) the u.s. and israel did it as an excuse to make arabs look evil and as an excuse to invade iraq. they hold no doubt. none.

from the article:

"there are arabs who hate america, a lot of them, but this is too much,” mr. abbas said as he fidgeted with his cellphone. “and look at what happened after this — the americans invaded two muslim countries. they used 9/11 as an excuse and went to iraq. they killed saddam, tortured people. how can you trust them?”

even this egyptian is suffering from the dissonance.

i couldn't subject myself to any of the covention airtime. even i am not that masochistic. however, flak after flak has beaten in the point that neither palin nor mccain mentioned the economy in their speeches. americans often uninsured, losing their homes, jobs and hope held no spot on the republican platform.

in a strangely related piece, fdr's articulate words have again been brought forth for me.


seventy-two years ago, in his renomination acceptance speech at the democratic convention in philadelphia (before an audience of over 100,000), fdr rose above the boiler-plate rhetoric of political speeches and spoke of his generation’s “rendezvous with destiny.” he warned of the perils to the nation of economic inequality. “liberty,” he said, “requires opportunity to make a living, a living decent according to the standard of the time, a living which gives man not only enough to live by, but something to live for.”

roosevelt’s words echo across the decades because they resonate with the very meaning of america, a meaning that is so much deeper than what our politics now seem to be. “we are fighting,” he told his audience, “to save a great and precious form of government, for ourselves and for the world.”

in a global poll of over 30,000 people, a staggering margin supported obama for president. tens of thousands of miles away, they know our president still can make or break the world.

we have broken it.

much of the world still believes we can make amends and move ahead.

can we?

will we?

money talks

immediately after sarah palin's speech at the rnc, mccain received $1 million in contributions.

in the same time frame, obama received $10 million.

i can hope, right?

celebrity bizarro land

last weekend, both madonna and michael jackson turned 50. back in the day, they were the queen and king of pop. hit after hit on top 40 radio, spilling out of dorm rooms, jukeboxes and clubs. amazing videos. pepsi commercials. soundtrack of the 80s and early 90s, for many my age. (never owned an album by either, fyi, but could sing along well enough after a few drinks.)

regardless of what their flaks say, i think it safe to posit both have gone under the knife. and safe to say to VERY different results, lol.

she remains an international icon. her concerts sell out at whopping sums and she still pumps out hit singles. she looks amazing. (those arms!) kabbalah la-la and a-rod rumors aside, she's a wife, mother and superstar, 25 years running.

he celebrated his birthday with cartoons and cookies. he has gone beyond strange looking with a nose that no longer stays attached to his face. he is mired in debt and foreclosure battles, even after buying out much of the beatles catalogue. when was the last time he made a new record? can he even sing anymore? he seems far too frail to moonwalk. last known to be living in bahrain? let's not even talk about those kids under the veils.

further whackness...

lynne spears, mother to trainwrecks britney and teenage single mom jaime lynne, called a posh l.a. baby store and ordered a gift -- baby burp cloths to be sent in her daughter jaime lynne's name to that another unwed mom-to-be in the great white north, bristol palin. (whose hockey hunk b.f. i totally would have done in school.)

lastly, little lost mackenzie phillips. her tv sister valerie bertinelli making a comeback, skinny again, ditched the booze-bag husband, and has tv deals. poor mac -- arrested at the airport holding heroin and coke. now headed to her 10th stint in rehab. jeebus.

please... hurt me

welcome to the opposite land in which this noodle lives.

on a relationship forum i used to frequent more often, there were countless cyclical threads that all essentially began, "please, don't hurt me." the heart, the soul, the psyche as precious candy glass and the lover (most often the female making the plea, so the hapless dude) was left to tread on always shifting eggshells.

these women had been hurt before and wanted no more of it. it always struck me as an impossible burden and then secondly, a terrible projection. what man or woman could possibly meet that expectation? to *never* hurt you? few wake up in the morning intending to hurt their beloved, ya know? so she always held the other at arm's length -- waiting. what a horrible set-up for failure. for both.

then there is noodle.

this is not the post to delve into the black dark of the why.

recently, i dared to posit aloud that the owner is less angry in general, so perhaps less inclined to hurt me and engage my masochism. he agreed. he said he "doesn't carry it like he used to."

it made me so happy for him. truly. the mantle under which he struggled for years is coming undone. :) yet, it was a lingua verum of our own and something i treasured. how do i now explain that i *need* to be hurt when it's something he no longer feels compelled to do?

the other day (and night before) i got used hard. like most women would never want. the kind that makes you bleed and cry. the kind that makes you not want to sit down. the kind that makes you want to crawl inside the man who knows he can do that to you. the kind that makes you weep with pain and relief and joy on the way home.

i remained woozy and stoopid for a nice while.

allowing/wanting myself to be hurt opens me to a vulnerability i don't know how to get to elsewise. the welts, the weals, the tear-stains, the submitting to the power of *you* brings me to a place i feel should be for you.

will you allow me that?

let's hear it for the ladies

cindy mccain and laura bush were pushed forth to make speeches tonight at the republican convention in st. louis. neither is an elected official, nor seeking public office, but i guess their men are off doing manly stuff and stopping biblical force weather. i wouldn't watch them on tv, for fear botox would squirt directly through my screen into my face.

on another note of "defensive, much?"...

a favorite and level-headed npr reporter was interviewing palin's spokeswoman today. here's the bit i heard:

npr: has gov. palin ever traveled outside the country?
flak: her son is leaving any day for iraq.
npr: yes, i know, but this is about the governor. has she ever been abroad?
flak: since when has being a governor not been sufficient qualification for being vice president? we are done here.

um, ok.

NOW! i find out her unmarried teenaged daughter is knocked up. brilliant.

:)

rainin' on the rnc parade

maybe there is a god?

hurricane gustav has been bearing down on the gulf coast for several days. this time authorities seem to have their act somewhat together and evacuations, preparations and curfews fell into effect several days ago. katrina remains a raw memory (not hard to forget if you're still living in a fema trailer, i bet), so 2 million people hotfooted hopefully to safer land north and west. mayor nagin of new orleans told residents they "need to be scared". a few hold-outs remain, holed up with tobacco, canned beans, guns and ammo, but his words seemed to have the desired effect. as i type, the storm keeps moving but a big question mark remains about what mother nature has in mind.

from today's ny times:

"we are hoping and praying gustav runs out of steam,” said lt. gen. robert l. van antwerp, the commanding general for the corps of engineers, as lightning flashed in the clouds over lake pontchartrain behind him.

maybe he should have been *praying* harder over the past 3 years to get the damn levees and t-walls built faster?

i digress.

mccain and his cons now must scale way back on the hate fest. opening night in st. louis is basically canceled. balloons and bunting are unseemly when you've got millions on the move to save their lives, eh? the next few days will force minute-to-minute decisions, having no disaster emergency precedent by which to choose the *right thing to do.* a sunshiney spot in the storm is that bush and cheney will NOT attend the convention, making it impossible for any pix to be taken together of the nominee and the least favored president in us history. visual, if not idealogical, distance thanks to a mighty wind.

riddle me this, kind readers: wtf were mccain and palin doing down there? he is a senator from arizona. not what i'd call hurricane central. she is, well, i wrote that all yesterday. gidget goes to the gulf, ya know? (did she bring a jet-ski, hoping for rad waves?) there is NOTHING they can do to help or assist authorities who are presumably busting ass to keep everybody's shit together. even shrub has the sense to stay away. shouldn't they stop sucking valuable resources? landing planes, motorcades, security -- all that could have been avoided by conference calls and e-mail. OH, WAIT! then there would be no pix or video of mccain and palin looking concerned in the rain. AND, OH! mccain cannot use the internet.

gustav is the lead story on cable and the net, making the republican convention an also-ran.

maybe this will turn out to be a breath of fresh air after all.

that girl

more republican pandering and offense.

palin is supposed to attract the disgruntled hilary supporters? other than common plumbing, what have these 2 women in common? can the media truly be THAT disingenuous??

we'll skip all the crap about her flip-flop on the "bridge to nowhere" and her effortless from-where-the-hell victory over hated and notoriously corrupt old hacks in her into-the-wild home-state. for now, we'll take a pass on the ethics scandal involving her pointy elbows and sharp pencils trying to get her ex-brother-in-law state-trooper canned. her youth, her visual appeal, her *feistiness* (um, gidget as 2nd in command?) her *first-dude* of a husband who is also a champion snow-mobiler. is there another female governor that can gut a fish in a trice? hell, this one can probably flay a bear in minutes just to bolster her anti-protection stance.

isn't the dirty lil secret that she is supposed to secure the ultra-cons who were not pledging to mccain and the evangelical bloc? she's in bed with big oil and gas, anti-gay, pro-gun, anti-conservation and favors creationism in the public school curriculum. she is anti-abortion.

james dobson of "focus on the family" announced earlier this year that he wouldn't and couldn't vote for McCain. today he pronounced himself converted, thanks to a ticket that now includes someone for whom "the sanctity of life" isn't just a political position.

palin has a 5-month old son with down syndrome. as an older mother, she took the test and decided to continue the pregnancy and have her son. "a blessing..." blah, blah, blah.

amazing that my head remained attached to my neck when i found this in a response thread in a ny times blog: (proves how dubious science is, i guess...)

"I’m a pro-choice Democrat, and it appalls me that 90+% of women who receive the diagnosis of Trisomy 21 “choose” to abort. This means that either (a) only liberal democratic women get pregnant with fetuses with Down syndrome, or (b) there are an awful lot of hypocritical Republican women out there."

please don't get me wrong, i laud palin for staying true to her core belief here. i do remain disgusted that such a private decision should be made part of her public and political persona. further, she was allowed to make a choice, something she wants to deny all other women, many of whom clearly share most of her politics. perhaps they don't have her access to nannies and such? her husband has 2 jobs plus a demanding hobby. she is a governor who will be stumping hard the next 2 months to win the white house. they have 5 children. who's tending the baby?

a "heartbeat away from the presidency" holds brand new meaning here with a very old dude whose ticker and health are so much in doubt. he's got almost 30 years on this lady! if mccain drops during an inaugural ball dance, how's palin gonna respond 6 months later to putin going all kruschev and pounding his shoe about ossetia? the cons have been trying to paint obama as inexperienced. what the hell does that make palin?

on some nattering head show, pat robertson (why is that loathsome reptile still sliming around with any say-so?) referred to palin more than once as "that gal". rush limbaugh (that big fat idiot) called her a "babe". are you for real? after the months of misogynistic horse-whipping of hilary, these guys turn the condescension onto one of their own? gaaah.i hope she can take dictation and type. maybe she can help mccain "make a google", as he still puts it.

lastly, ya gotta wonder: is hillary laughing so hard she wets herself, or beating some illegal maid with wire hangers right about now?

quotable

"she's got gaps, i got gaps, together -- we fill gaps."

~~rocky balboa on love

more of the same

"perhaps it was god who put these two great resources right next to each other. just to see what people would do with them." ~~ JOHN T. SHIVELY, chief executive of a consortium seeking to mine copper and gold near alaskan rivers that also nurture salmon.

yes. i'm sure that's exactly it. and if you listen carefully, god will tell you exactly what is the right thing to do.

a mineral deposit of staggering value, but of a finite amount, vs. the world's largest salmon run which produces an amazing amount of wealth each year and has renewed itself for millenia. mining of the gold and copper will release toxins into the river that will likely destroy it and kill off the fish forever.

what would jesus do?

conserve this

in a letter to his campaign manager, dated Oct. 26, 1904, teddy roosevelt wrote: “i must ask you to direct that the money be returned to them forthwith.” as roosevelt saw it: “we cannot under any circumstances afford to take a contribution which can be even improperly construed as putting us under an improper obligation.”

he was running for his first full term as president and had discovered a $100,000 contribution from standard oil.

if anybody else's head besides mine explodes trying to imagine this from any modern candidate let's just collect our spattered brain matter and move forward, ok? (i'm vaguely recalling a last-minute scramble to distance from that filth-monger abramoff, but that's an unnecessary digression here.)

after mccain flip-flopped on off-shore drilling, he pocketed $1.1 million from big oil and big gas in TWO WEEKS. no pretending here that obama's hands haven't dipped into the pool of texas crude because they have, however his "tax the hell out of the oil companies" stance hasn't exactly opened the hearts and minds in exxon's boardrooms -- most were small checks from employees.

in yet another flight of fantasy, mccain this week described himself as a "roosevelt republican." either he is completely ignorant of roosevelt's accomplishments and philosophies, or blithely assumes the same of the american public. (very sadly, either holds equal weight, i guess, huh?) so let's take a quick trip in the way-back machine to compare and contrast the republican party of 100 years ago and today, and we'll use mccain's new-found hero as the vintage model.

the rough rider has long been admired (or hated) as a trust-buster, for regulating industry and curbing the excesses of giant corporations. he favored the imposition of an inheritance tax and though a man of means, fought his party’s coddling of the very wealthy. he pushed for fair and equitable railroad transport rates and safer food and drugs. he was the first president to call for universal health care and national health insurance (!!!)

what really makes my forehead vein throb from mccain's bald-faced lie is the modern republican attitude towards the environment and roosevelt's crusades for conservation. if polar bears or peregrine falcons were found to contain oil, no doubt mccain would happily and personally wring every single one dry. (roosevelt's coinage of "good to the last drop" holds some serious irony here, lol.) when roosevelt became aware of the slaughter of birds for ladies' feathered hats, (5 million noble birds per year, like egrets and herons -- many mowed down by semi-automatic weapons) he decreed pelican island a sanctuary, the first piece of the national wildlife refuge system. his understanding that the iconic buffalo was nearly gone led to the establishment of 5 game preserves. he doubled the number of national parks, created 150 national forests, and was ultimately responsible for the guardianship of some 230,000,000 acres.

he was one of harvard's first naturalists, an avid bird watcher and wrote eloquently and lyrically about the natural world. he was friend to both muir and burroughs and wrote 35 books. republicans today attack anyone well-spoken or whom offers intelligent discourse as "elitist". (where's that damn eye-rolling icon?)

from a 1907 speech:

"in utilizing and conserving the natural resources of the nation, the one characteristic more essential than any other is foresight... the conservation of our natural resources and their proper use constitute the fundamental problem which underlies almost every other problem of our national life."

i've blogged previously about bush's disregard for the consequences of his recklessness because of his whole infuriating and ignorant armageddon thing. yet the cons are putting on another con-job for the american public with this damnable off-shore drilling hoax. best guesstimates put recoverable oil around 20-30 billion barrels. much of it is off california, which has stated in no uncertain terms there will be no drilling off its shores. subtract those barrels from the pool and that leaves possibly as little as 7-8 billion. if we start drilling this minute, none of it will see the light of day for another generation and that is what the world currently consumes in about 3 months. yeah, a 90 day-supply. how's that for long-range thinking with the bonus potential to devastate and despoil our beaches, gulf and oceans?

teddy was no white knight. he was a jingoist and a racist, a social darwinist. (that part certainly fits many neo-cons, though.)

somebody please explain to me when conservatism, the act of conserving, a committment to responsible stewardship, entered the upside-down universe of the heedless exploitation of our people and our lands?

anybody?

it's a small world

the owner introduced me the other night to a new acquaintance. she was friendly and pleasant, although i was highly distracted by her patchouli and choice of shorts.

(her parade of fatty snacks after confessing a gastric band op deserves a whole other post, but i digress...)

i was subject to an agenda, so i wasn't making waves, just nice.

she is one of those people who never leaves their circle of safety. she lives with her sons, near her mother, in what is basically a *neighborhood* of lowell. she works in lowell. she grew up in the community. one of the ticket takers at our show was her cousin.

yet she'd never been to the lowell folk music festival, now running nearly 30 years. she was completely unaware of the series to which the owner holds a pass for summer music in the park. she'd been to 2 concerts in her life the night we brought her to her 3rd. and THOSE had been over 20 years ago. she'd never heard of the guy we were seeing. she never goes out for a drink or dinner. the thought of salmon and asparagus (the owner's entree before we met up) made her squicked. she never goes to a movie.

she asked me what i did, i paused and said "sommelier". blank stare.

that i live in boston was amazing to her -- she'd be lost and afraid.

this woman served in the navy with her husband and proved to be amenable to our designs, so i'm not saying she was laura ingalls in a hoodie. but... but... but?

a recent study by a cell phone company in japan tracked users by the gps in their phones. (yo, they don't have the same privacy laws we're so blithely surrendering without a whimper, k?) something like 80% never traveled or called more than 2 miles from their home.

a recent article in the atlantic got lots of buzz: "is google making us stupid?" my dearest friends and i use it as that long tail of culture and economics. we lose too much time in links to new ideas, writers and video and music. stuff we never would have found at the multiplex or the mall, even if we went to either. but the rest? they don't get stoopid, they just stay that way.

sorry but i don't have a link to a lulz kitty video here. i suck.

proof i remain an idealist: i like to think just maybe that woman will youtube bruce hornsby or remember the wine i knew she drank and have a day with a new difference.

it can happen.

censors, creationists, racists, evangelicals, neo-conservatives... all wanna make the world smaller. knowledge is dangerous. scope is treacherous.

one of the best parts of my life is knowing people who know the world is big. and THAT'S why it's scary.

hunters, gatherers and fiddle-faddle

the galapagos finch is an icon of darwin's theory of natural selection and remains a favorite to study. every year since 1973, members of that bird population, both parents and chicks, on the island of daphne major, have been weighed, measured and marked. their survival depends largely on their ability to open pods for seeds. in years of abundance, all birds thrive, but if the season is scarce, smaller beaked-birds die in droves, taking their puny genes with them.

over the course of 3 decades, annual measurement of finches shows that both body size and beak size evolved significantly, but they didn’t do so in a smooth, consistent fashion. instead, natural selection jittered about, often changing direction from one season to the next. as the abundance of different seeds fluctuated, so too did the beak sizes. however, if the measurements had been taken once every 10 years, or only then and now, the changes in beak size would have been wildly underestimated.

as part of my recent quest for better health, i keep stumbling upon the paleo-diet. in a nutshell, you eat what oog the caveman did. (stop snorting with laughter, please.) i appreciate the intent, but struggle both with the execution and the "i drank the kool-aid (or antelope marrow)" mania. the theory is to consume only what would have been available to our bipedal ancestors before farming and animal husbandry changed the menu. they bolster their argument with studies of modern hunter/gatherer tribes, the older members of which show no evidence of heart disease, osteoporosis, hypertension, tooth decay and general western-type age-related maladies. supposedly accidents and infections killed off most of them, while the less clumsy spent their dotage eating berries and sleeping alot.

day in the life: slow amble through latest leafy glade, bending or stretching to gather roots, fruits, seeds, leaves, etc. piling that all up in a basket of some sort, then hauling that load back to base. maybe a stroll with some pointy sticks to a nearby stream bed or shoreline for trout or pike. the occasional big romp to take down a beast. (the raw foodists tend to diverge off the path prior to the campfire/meat part, but i digress.)

i read "clan of the cave bear", too, ok? lots of all that sounds pretty groovy and peaceable, and supposedly a good amount of time was spent together in your little gang, relaxing and bonding, living your day with the cycle of the sun. naps were big, too, lol.

estimates are that these early folks accessed about 400-500 different edibles over the course of 4 seasons. we evolved with a simple gut that allows us to be omnivores. it was necessary for survival, ne c'est pas? contrast this with modern man? while our supermarket aisles groan with bags and boxes (10,000 new processed food products are introduced every year in the u.s.!!!) average joe eats a only a handful of foods, mostly grain, lots of fat and stuff nobody can pronounce.

what about the finches you ask? lol. what flies in the face of the paleo-proponents is the presumption that our bodies haven't changed in all this time. that smacks of stoopidly ignoring science. finches evolve flibbity-jibbity in a generation, but man hasn't shifted a midge in millions of years? we have been farming and herding for 10,000 years, but cooked lentils and cheese are toxic?

i'm not prepared to completely toss the genetic baby out with the bean cooking water. only 3 generations ago, my people were from places too poor to keep cows. sheep's milk wasn't really a *thing*, and hard cheese became a condiment, rather than a staple. nobody in my family drinks milk, we all hate it. even the feel of it on my tongue grosses me out. babies and small children have a digestive enzyme for milk proteins. unless kept active, that enzyme goes the way of baby teeth. on a date many years ago, he insisted we have ice cream. "sure, i haven't had it in ages." within hours, it was like food poisoning. i was in a fetal position in the back of the car and spent 12 hours wanting to die.

the other genetic contradiction here is the presumption that the plants and animals of long ago are the same as what we today buy shrink-wrapped and plu-stickered. even if i kept my own garden, my fruits and tubers would be very different than what those folks picked and scratched.

"eat food. not too much. mostly plants." ~~ michael pollan, "the omnivore's dilemma"

it's laugh out loud easy, isn't it?

i'm trying. here -- have some parsley salad. :)

mikey likes it

yeah, but he died eating pop-rocks and coke ;)

this is a small detail of much recent rumination about my changing/aging body and all that implies. (add the owner's distaste for what he sees and yeah, i've been getting busy... but i digress...)

all my life breakfast has been a trial. my parents would have half a slice of toast and a cup of coffee, but felt i should have *more*. school days, that meant cereal, right? i hated milk, so would crunch on the quisp/lucky charms/cheerios and sneak the remaining moo-goo to the dog, under the table, her tail-wagging (hello, pavlov.) one freezing kindergarten morning, my dad was who knows where, and my mother was late for work, she decided to make oatmeal for me. it was so gross in my mouth i cried in the dark beginning of day. not to sound tragic, but my mom knew she'd lost the battle. yuk. (shut up, dr. freud, about associations, k?)

cut to grown-up noodle.

i'm not inclined to eat unhealthfully, but my career and schedule make my day and fueling needs strange and erratic. every so often, i decide my diet needs re-tooling.

this happened a few months ago. so, um, duh! have breakfast! have a whole-grain breakfast!! i bought the colon-blow organic cereal, the plain yogurt to replace the milk and the fruit to make it less like pile-shavings. it really was tasty. and i was quite regular. (never really a problem, anyhow, but i do have a thing about that.) but 2 or 3 hours later? i was starving, and i'd already consumed more than 25% of my daily calories, with 16 or 17 hours waking hours ahead. disaster walking.

i felt bloated and puffy and hungry and out of whack.

ok, the cereal- for-breakfast thing is a conspiracy from big-moo and big-ag. way back when, kellogg was considered a nutso.

am i finally ready to start listening to my own internal self ?

i know lots of skinny healthy folks who have a big bowl of crunchy kansas goodness every morning, but finally i know it will never work for me. i don't doubt there are genetic variances in what may be best for different peeps, but i'm not prepared to lay it all down to heritage -- too many of us in the states are too much the mutt. if i did, i should have a guiness for breakfast and lunch (sandwich in every glass) and some green veggies cooked with a hint of pork (plus wine :) for dinner. actually that doesn't sound so bad, lol.

i'll stick with my fruit or toast to start, my big meal late day and then something light later. it's the only way to keep myself fueled while going til 2:00 am or later, ya know? that guy who said you shouldn't eat anything after 6:00 pm? you know he went to bed at 10:00.

there's more, but this is enough for now, lol.

carrying on

why do i even read it, when i know it will just piss me off?

karl rove, describing obama: "the guy at the country club with the beautiful date, holding a martini and a cigarette that stands against the wall and makes snide comments about everyone who passes by."

gaaaahhhhh.

if i envision anybody skulking against the wall at a posh private club, making snarky remarks, it's rove. prior to his political ascent, what club would have let obama through the whitey-white doors? some mixed-race dude, who sounds muslim, with no pedigree or legacy reference? yet guys like rove can paint willy-nilly with that sloppy old brush and have it stick.

bush the elder, who infamously had never seen a supermarket plu scanner, managed to slant dukakis, a 1st generation son of greek immigrants, as a hoity-toity pinhead. (granted, he's a bit wonky, but far from out-of-touch like the blue blood tossing the muck.)

obama's father ditched when he was 2, he and his mom bounced around, she eventually remarried and farmed him out to various relatives. without alumnae letters or legacy leeway, he got himself into some of our country's most prestigious schools. (did you know he declined to indicate race on his harvard admissions app?) his first major job was as a community organizer on some of chicago's grittiest streets. can we say, "bootstraps", everybody?

last night on my pointy-headed npr, a reporter was interviewing some little kids in texas. they heard obama belonged to al qaeda. that he built bombs. that he was a known terrorist. they are not reading this shit on cereal boxes, now are they?

admittedly, part of the problem for dukakis, gore and kerry is they just couldn't/wouldn't play as dirty as their republican adversary. we are in the doldrums of august, so the drumbeats have yet to really begin. i know i'll be sickened on a regular basis before that november tuesday. go ahead, ask me why i don't watch tv news.

recently, i saw this on a print. it was a quote i'd never seen, but will stick with me:

"Remember, remember always, that all of us, and you and I especially, are descended from immigrants and revolutionaries."
~~fdr

they built this country. it's not a matter for shame.

these neo-cons excel at painting "the other" as dangerous. the only danger i see obama presenting is to the sickening status quo that has brought this country to its fiscal and moral knees.

at last...

finally getting a little hot under the collar, and in respsonse to the ridiculous gauge-gate that's got all the flaks flapping, obama shot one off to a standing ovation yesterday:

"It's like these guys take pride in being ignorant," he told a crowd in Ohio, then delivered the kicker. "Instead of running ads about Paris Hilton and Britney Spears, they should go talk to some energy experts and actually make a difference."

like little katie connick said the other night: "obama, baby!"

thank you.

carry on. :)

obama-rama

he saw me, walked right over, winking as he said hello with a hollywood smile. he stretched out his hand, shook mine and said, "very nice to meet you, thank you for having me." so yeah, add another mega-celebrity to my ridiculous list.

another zelig moment, i was again elbow-to-elbow with incredibly powerful, intelligent and famous people. up close and personal, i got to hear obama speak casually to a well-heeled group of the faithful. (lol, the woman next me kept slipping off her manolos. they weren't even that high or pointy!)

first deval patrick spoke, then senator kerry, and his anger was palpable. that mccain has ridden the war hero wagon to political success while he was swift-boated to defeat as a traitor must cause unfathomable pain. he went so far as to proclaim mccain a danger to the country.

it was a birthday party, so both he and the governor were serious yet light-hearted, and obama took the stage to thunderous applause. yeah, he's got it. that can't quite be defined, but you know it when you see it -- charisma. he spoke over twice as long as scheduled and even this old cynic found herself welling up. his idealism, his sincerity, his fierce desire to bring america back to greatness through good works and a rectitude that our founders would admire, spoke to the young noodle still inside me who believes people are good and want to make the world a better place.

he covered a lot of ground in a concise way, was self-effacing and never once slurred mccain. taking the campaign high road worked for our current governor, but will it win the country?

obama is looking to raise nearly $500 million, so i'm guessing mccain has a similar target. (staggering. truly.) we already see where the republicans are putting their money through garbage like the britney/paris ad. obama curved elegantly around the the race card and his "funny name" as fodder and spoke forcefully about the divisiveness of that kind of propaganda. (my brain was burning with memories of shrub claiming to be a uniter, not a divider. aaaaaaahhhh!!!!) however, a recent ny times poll found that only 31% of white voters had a favorable opinion of obama, so even clumsy ignorant ads will hit an easy mark.

as i listened, i kept wondering when and why intelligence and a fine education became a detriment in politics. shrub went to yale and mccain graduated from the naval academy, yet they successfully sneer at the equivalent diplomas of men like gore, kerry and obama. (that shrub was only a legacy and barely got by within a drunken haze, is a digression that only angers me, so let's not.) public schools and libraries were founded well early in this nation, our forefathers respecting the importance of an informed populace. (ok, just white boys, but hey.) how did the neo-cons get so far in dissing liberal smarts? general ignorance helps solidify their tyranny, agreed, but how did it happen? maybe i'm crazy, but i want my president to be smarter than me, ok?

maureen dowd (she was a journalist once, right? now she just writes to incite. reading her is masochism i can endure in public, i guess...) wrote a pithy piece this week comparing obama to jane austen's mr. darcy. GAAAAAHHHH!! from where does the impression of pride or hubris in this man come? and why is she recklessly perpetuating it? she's playing the race card in a back-handed way, is she not? mocking him as an uppity darkie? it pissed me off in a way that really surprised me.

there was another op-ed piece in the times asking where is obama's landslide. but he doesn't need one, does he? shrub won in 2004 by only 2.5%, the slimmest margin of any sitting president. his handlers parlayed it into a mandate to further trample the constitution and plunder the country.

in both 2000 and 2004, i went to bed on election night thinking my guy had won. ugly wake-ups, you bet. in only 8 years our country has been made into a shameful mess.

i still have hope.

i know some of you think it's tim wakefield, but right now? obama da man.

lifestyles of the very rich, but not necessarily famous

(might be my longest blog title. where's my damn p.a. to check? oh, yeah, not an approved line-item.)

not long ago, i read an article that sales and profits at super-luxury houses like lvmh, burberry, richemont and hermes have soared in the last several quarters. partial credit may go to global brand presence, yet to me this just gives further proof of the rich getting richer everywhere. yeah, the dollar is weak, but phooey on you if your margin so slim. (g'night, bennigan's; hello dubai, you sexy thang.)

i have landed back in the stratosphere, and the irony is not lost. a few days before i started, my employer was putting on a wedding for over $600,000, while i was being helped by my kind attorney (rara avis, si) who reduced his rates to stave off my foreclosure and ruin. this morning we had a small bridal shower, for extra large women, that cost nearly $400 pp. tomorrow we are having a mad political fund-raiser, $30,000 pp for the full monty. it is completely sold-out, yet lots of folks are clamoring for seats.

3 months ago, when my wallet got stolen, i had to roll change to pay my mortgage.

the rich are indeed different than you and me.

6 ways to sunday

or: keep your knives off my vay-jay.

this is messed up in so many ways, i'll just quote it here for everyone's enjoyment and bafflement.

oh, yeah, and the procedures each cost about $10,000.

"Australian doctors have raised concerns about clinics offering vaginal cosmetic surgery, warning the trend towards so-called "designer vaginas" may be exploiting vulnerable women.

The Royal Australian and New Zealand College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists said procedures being offered included "vaginal rejuvenation, revirgination, designer vaginoplasty and G-spot amplification".

"What is involved in these procedures is often unclear since recognised clinical nomenclature is not being used," it said in a position paper released this week."

polite chit-chat

another development related to the owner's new digs, and our different status, is i'm now meeting friends and acquaintances of his. previously under tight wraps, i'd only ever met one, and that was through a business happenstance -- one to which i only agreed when the owner intervened on said friend's behalf. (that he turned out to have been best man at the wedding and eventually privy to my role in marital unraveling shamed me badly.)

he's a friendly fellow and lowell seems perfect for that. i don't know if his building is a microcosm, or some sort of hothouse, but he already knows many more of his neighbors than do i. (then again, i don't *want* to meet new people quite as much as he seems to do.) when handshakes and names are offered, i'm simply introduced as noodle. there is no, "this is my___________, noodle." what he calls me in private won't do in public, he's yet to find something that will, and also adamantly does not want to be perceived as part of couple, for the obvious disadvantages that would present to his non-monogamy. among some, there seems to be a twinkling foreknowledge of my existence, but heaven only knows who/what they think i am. (he also will never tell me how or what he discusses about me when i'm not around, only adding to my murky view, and likely clouding many women's wishful thoughts.)

he's mentioned the bellydancer in passing, and that this weekend she was having various spreads to coincide with the party outside. he'd warned me she was hot for him, which i had no trouble believing, and been honest that she didn't float his boat. ok, clear enough.

we walk into a hen party. oh, dear. all were very nice, very friendly and her apartment was comfy in a very girly way. but the octaves were up there and the cross chat about kids and husbands is never my idea of fun. they encircled him like a swarm of bees, and the "look-at-me" mating behaviors would have been funny if not for -- no, ya know what? it was funny.

classic female style, they couldn't seem to get organized and out the door, til i reminded everybody the music for tonight was nearly through and let's go.

twice that night, i was asked what to most would be a simple question, "how did you two meet?" harmless enough, but one that i was taught never to ask. (along with, unless somebody is already discussing their work, never ask what they *do*, nor how much do they make.) chalk it up to my family's twisted sense of propriety and previously recorded bad behaviors, but the tawdry reality of us is not something anybody really wants to face, and will only beg more invasive questions. nerf balls, i deflected them easily. folks just want to talk about themselves anyway, so it's never hard to scooch sideways by answering a question with a question. (there also was the silent stone of why i've never met his brother, while they all had, i think more than once. that was trickier for a sec, but see above.)

after saving her life by killing a bug crawling on one hysterical woman's leg, i'd had it and marched solo to the nearby dance tent. i *was* here for music, lol. the owner seemed to reach his threshold shortly after, and truth be told, we didn't spend a whole lot of time with the harem over the course of the weekend. he made a polite appearance each day to her new fete, bringing me along, and we naturally ran into them here and there.

the tawdry table turned though when we awoke to her less-than-polite late-night drunken texts. oh, dear indeed, lol. at brunch, they all looked quite a bit worse for wear, yet she seemed not at all embarrassed when he showed her the digital evidence. she tried laughing it off as innocent, but 7 messages seems pretty determined to me, lol, even while swilly. it was endearing to see how gentle he was in his chiding, but she certainly didn't seem to take it as discouragement. (her invites later in the day confirming that theory, lol. however, she seems not to realize if he hasn't yet tried to fuck her, in all these months, her chances continue to diminish daily. why is it most women don't like to know how men's minds really work, lol?)

i've always teased the owner about him being irresistible -- that he's nectar to any bird in flight. his modesty makes him tell me it's only because the intensity of my attraction makes me project. it was charming to see him flattered by all the attentions and how *nice* he was to all those ladies. truly kind. in the *before time*, i never had the chance to see him through the eyes of others and i liked being reminded of just how great he is, ya know? (not that i forget, but i saw it writ large in those heaving horny women and heard it from a few other folks with whom we bent elbows.)

strange the turns life takes, the possibilities that arise and how much better so much is than i ever imagined possible.

lucky me. :)

as seen here

(more precisely, *there*, cuz i was still in lowell.)

older fellow carrying an aluminum lawn chair at the folk festival. taped to the front of his shirt, a piece of loose-leaf paper, with red magic marker writing:

please do not give any beer to this man.
thank you.
~~his spouse

i can only imagine her saying before he left the house, "if you come home without this sign, don't come home!"

livin' la vida lowell

within weeks of relocating, the owner became his adopted hometown's biggest booster. granted, i temper much of his enthusiasm with his fresh independence, but its sincerity is endearing and i'm thrilled he's found a place to rebuild his life on happiness, not sacrifice.

he's been generous in sharing some of this with me and we've banged heads more than once with the dropkick murphys and waxed mellow on the summer night grass with the indigo girls. we've been shined on and rained out at the spinners and tipped a few pints at local watering holes. however, this weekend is the raison d'etre for much of the town, with the annual folk festival. the streets are closed to car traffic, stages and pavilions are scattered throughout the downtown with free concerts all day and much of the night. food from all over the world and artists who paint, weave, carve, and work with quills and quilts round it all out.

we started our night friday with jeffery broussard and the creole cowboys and they just rocked. how long have i loved that zydeco fiddle sound? somehow we had to escort a social orphan (how'd we get her?) to the skatalites, but they were a little more mellow than we wanted, so we ditched, went back to the dance tent and the boys from louisiana. a beer garden, giant fans and couples two-stepping made for a perfect show. room to move and even the owner couldn't help but swing his hips!

stumbled on an alley with picnic tables and a flatbed trailer doing double duty as a stage. bunch of guys rocking, beer on tap and folks kicking up dust. perfect. laughed it up with townies, drank pbr's, watched grandmas cut loose and heard at least 3 different bands, none of whom will go on to greatness but were having a blast.

saturday started a little rough for some of us, so we missed the early shows, couldn't get near our cowboys, so wound our way to hear balla kouyate play his 800-year old balafon -- a west african ancestor of the xylophone. the sound was amazing. gourds! even more amazing when one considers the fractured family lines in so much of his ancestral region to know his has remained unbroken. (a very inconsiderate white woman, a baby slung on her back, insisted on videotaping the show from center aisle. at least 5 people tapped her shoulder and asked her to get out of the way before she finally did. my suspicions were confirmed by the lowell sun this morning -- she was kouyate's wife.)

we caught bits of puerto plata (well, i did, the owner was shopping and continuing his major support of the local economy); the broad gospel pipes of sister marie knight; skordalia, a traditional greek dance band; watched a step-dancing workshop (too painful, lol, even the teacher had to turn her back); and at last back to the skatalites. how old are those guys? they backed marley, ya know? they sounded great and riffed out classics that had everybody swaying. old hippies, babies in tie-dye and barefoot phish-kids all digging it.

visited our alley, caught a rock-a-billy band and saw our favorite rockin' granny (whom we now know is maggie and hangs out at the old court, lol). rounded out the evening with a bit of mighty sam mcclaine, who might have been more mighty 50 years ago. sounded great, but we'd both hoped for a bit more bo diddley, less luther vandross, so called it a night.

here's hopes that the weather will hold for today. friends of mine live nearby, so there are plans to connect there and neighbors here at love, american style are having a brunch. (more on THAT later, lmao.) even if it rains, i can't think of a more perfect weekend in a very long time. perfect. even i like lowell. )

demitasse, part deux

burdened with an armload of stuff last night, i treated myself to an elevator ride, fearing a crash of glass otherwise. while waiting, a very tan, big buff gay man approached the bay. with mandatory calf and biceps tattoos, he was holding a tiny white poof of a thing. (which i suspect is a smaller hairier version of what he might be in the winter, although i'm guessing he has a tanning/waxing membership someplace, lol.) it was in his arms, lolling about, apparently unable to support its own head. it looked the oxy dudes i see on the "t".

"uh, is your dog ok?"
"yeah, i just took him out for a carry."
"i'm sorry, what?"
"i carry him when he needs to go."
"well, his paws are wonderfully clean."

we stepped into the car and he gently juggled the puppet, under and over. it expressed zero distress at being held stomach exposed, head hanging.

"he lets me do whatever i want. he loves it."
"i'm glad you two have such a good understanding."

even my cat doesn't remain that forever relaxed, knowing danger may lurk invisibly in the immediate future.

ew.

some of these neighbors? i really *don't* wanna go inside their condos, ya know?

just business

nothing personal.

between officially accepting my new job and giving notice to my employer in person was an annoying few days. i watched others going through the motions of their final shifts and listened to one of the chefs talk about being one interview away from jumping ship. i kept mum.

he thought we were meeting to test more drinks. (no more recipes for you! drink nazi in high gear.) i handed him the paper and he was visibly shocked. truly. (you thought i was happy here? now that's shocking. ) he asked the 2 most perfunctory of questions and indicated they'd be cutting me loose before the 2 weeks was up -- which i figured and hoped. remains to be seen how much money he'll try screwing me out of come next payday.

i had 2 last days, one in each store. lots of hugs and well wishes. there are some people there i do like. not enough to cocktail with in the future, but nice enough, ya know. i lost track of how many came to me privately and admitted loathing the place. why on earth do you feel so stuck? why do you fear change? the money is really not good enough, not for servers, not for the bar, never mind the slave wages paid to managers. on the real last day, his wife was in our office working on a big computer project for the new location, so she was on-premise for several hours. we have always gotten on quite well and she's very much the good cop to her husband's bad. she came and left via the back door and never said "boo" to me. he did not wish me good luck, nor did any of the other partners. not one of my salespeople expressed surprise.

i have never worked in a place where rumor and conjecture, the words of petty cats (that backstabbing trailer whore) and a willingness to throw others under the bus was such corporate m.o. my sense of discretion and personal responsibility was clearly misplaced and only served to shine a bad light in the eyes of the owner. how many times did he admit leaving my ass to hang in the wind? he once told me he likes to think of everybody as a family, not a company. modeled on whom? the borgias? jeebus.

handing over my keys and walking out into the warm july twilight, i was surprised by my lack of relief. granted, that proves little more than how emotionally disengaged i've been and for how long.

over a week to myself. time with the owner and friends, and to catch up on some culture vulture stuff i've missed. not wearing rcg's about the new gig, but am looking forward very much to a return to ultra-fine dining, incentives and being busy. my commute is killer short and they already perceive me as "added value" through my sommelier skills. (the cfo's words, not mine.)

fresh start. it feels good. yeah for me.

the end is nigh

on a cable channel i didn't know existed there is now a game show called "hurl". guys sit down and gorge by the stop-clock. they then force themselves to puke. whomever expels the least wins $1000. (does a hapless somebody measure the volume, or the circumference of the splat?)

maybe it's my own close and cozy relationship with purging that has made me go 'round the bend over this. i'm only ever nauseated when july 4th brings nathan's hot dog eating barftacular to tv. i literally cannot watch kobayashi and the rest of 'em defy nature. (finding his name through google brought me to the alarming existence of the "ifoce-- international federation of competitive eating." i'm familiar with the old-timey tradition of county fair pie-eating contests, but how did this come to be regarded as a sport? it's on espn ffs. much like elvis and rv's it's something so peculiarly american.)

i know boys think any bodily function expressed is hilarious, and clearly i'm not the demographic for this, lol. but, um, yuk, ok?

be my friend

kids say this, right? a plaintive call of defense, solidarity or community. a plea to not be alone, i think when we're kids, it's mostly weighted with *other*. "cuz i'm inviting you to my b-day pony race." "cuz i'm asking you to go to bermuda with my family." "plz sleep over?"

years ago, a married friend and i discussed (bemoaned) the difference in how grown-ups make friends. mostly? they don't. it's the polar opposite of playground p.c. they make the most of convenience. but this is not that.

in the last few days, i've had several invites to be a "facebook friend". from guys. ok, i don't have a facebook account. (aren't i too old?) how can i be your *friend* if i don't exist there? i have some friends and acquaintances who have hilarious *fake* profiles on myspace. (amy had to pull down the heiress one. way toooooooo bad, and the traffic nearly derailed everything, lol.) how can i get snared somewhere i don't go? do they import/export their mailbook?

i feel like the less places i *am*, the better i can retain my privacy. i don't want links and people poking. my life was derailed once by the net. i'm good. thanks.

certifiable

if there was a seal, stamp or badge, it now would be attached to me permanently.it's been a busy stressful week of wrangling and reconnoitering. lawyers, snoops, advocates, adversaries, notaries; city, state and federal flaks. the penny bone connected to the dollar bone kinda thing.

the pile of denial has become very small, and i can say, with (mostly?) confidence, i have a handle on it all.

today was to be a big brush-clearing day. just like shrub at the ranch. (no, wait, not like him. i was really doing stuff that mattered. this was NOT a photo op.) i put this with that, files, copies, records, letters, receipts, staples, paper clips, color-coded envelopes.

even though i had a late close, i made it very early out the house, trying to make enough time to truly conquer all before work.

it was steamy hothot. i had to carry lots of stuff.

first stop: the dreaded d.o.r. (cue monster mansion music...) wait in line. metal detector goes off. yeah, yeah, my underwire. "which way to the dor, please?" "it ain't here, lady." "where is it now?" "i have no idea." all the signs en espanol for immigration help should have clued me in, but i was still hopin'. ok. leave the line to call my tax lady. "lady, whaddya doin?" "calling my tax lady, since you can't help me." "you have no business here. get out." ffs. my tax dollars clearly aren't being spent on charm lessons. my tax lady is also surprised the dor is no longer there. she sent me there, ok? closest *might* be in chelsea, but it could be a stealth op. the dor never really ever wants to actually see you face-to-face. ever. i bet if you owed a million bucks and had it in a satchel of cash, plus a posse of ho's to *pay* the interest, they wouldn't tell you where they are.

ok, next stop -- a hop-skip. city hall, tax assessor. another metal detector, not as posh. (hey, statey vs. fed.) but it still rang out a danger-warning about my bra, although this guard just laughed and waved me through. another line upstairs in the mezzanine, but i'm feeling happy, cuz it's money back! woo-hoo. my turn. window. uh, um. oh my FUCKING GOD. i left the house without ANY of the paperwork i prepared. nothing. nada. it was all sitting on my dining table organized and utterly of no use.

i am senile. kaput.

no choice but to go back home, get the sheaf and address some of it in the limited remaining time. 90% got done, but by mail rather than in person, so the lack of expedition pisses me right off. (yeah, yeah, dangle this.) granted, i did get a patsy cline mini-serenade of "your cheatin' heart" (which i just love cuz my uncles and grandfather used to sing it; we will skip ALL the irony of those voices rising up from the jameson's on THAT one.) from bobby at my local p.o. (who is learning spanish! omg, the wonder. truly. and he was so nice and asking the locals to correct him and help him, lol. awesome!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in my travels today, i found a little bit of money on the sidewalk. maybe it's time for me to buy a metal sweeper for my long slow days of idiocy at the beach.

no sex, please, we're bostonians

yesterday i picked up a local rag: "the sex issue." i wasn't expecting much, i mean, the thing is free in newsboxes all over, ya know?

they had anonymous profiles of 8 people, all in their late 20s. 6 hetero's, 2 homosexual men, (why no lesbian?) some single, some dating, some married. i know enough to take any kind of sexual self-reporting with a bag of salt, but the only two who copped to wanting more sex than they currently get was the married guy and the promiscuous gay. (by promiscuous i offer that he admitted to having had 50 sexual partners in his lifetime. we all know what that makes me, right? lol.) puh-leeze.

those with partners had sex about once a week, and all claimed that was the goldilocks "just right" amount. c'mon.

other than the one slutty gay, nobody admitted bedding more than 7 sex partners. nobody had had a 3-some. *wildest* sex fantasies amounted to fucking outside or being watched. yawn.

conclusion? either i am an insane debauched nymphomaniac who happens to be owned by a ravenous psycho sex fiend, OR, the entire lame-ass article was written by just one very unimaginative prude.