Just One of Those Things

Let's say that you, who ever you are, because of who you are, cannot, by law, sign a contract. Any kind of contract. You can't buy or sell a house, you can't get a loan, you can't rent a place to live or rent a place to someone else, you can't lease or buy a car, you can't get married, you can't even write a check, you can't do anything that involves your signature and some kind of contractual obligation. How much of your life would be impacted by that law?

Now let's say that you can sign something I will call a "loop-tee-loop". Turns out a loop-tee-loop is EXACTLY the same as a contract. So, you can sign a loop-tee-loop to buy a car or a house, or get married or write a check. It's called a loop-tee-loop, that's all. Same thing. Just don't call it a contract. It MUST be referred to as a loop-tee-loop.

What or how does that make you feel? Do you feel like you're being treated unfairly? Do you feel like this whole thing is ridiculous? Because if there is no difference between a contract and a loop-tee-loop, why not just call everything a contract (or loop-tee-loop, if you prefer). Just seems patently stupid, huh?

So why can't we heterosexuals share the word "marriage"? What is it about the word "marriage" that makes it such a special word that only heterosexual people may use it? Those people, those same-sex people have "civil union", why can't they be satisfied with that? I mean, it's exactly the same thing, right?

Hey, here's an idea. Since it seems that the word "marriage" has some special powers, and it's turning out that my god-given right to a contract called "marriage" will not be happening for me, I won't be needing my own personal right to the word "marriage". So I'd like to go ahead and give my right to the word to a nice same-sex couple who needs it, since they can't have it under any equal protection law. Of course, it would probably be a good thing to write up a loop-tee- loop for it, you know, for everyone's equal protection.

There She Goes...

In other news, Miss California keeps her “job”, thanks to The Donald, but one of his minions quits because she got whacked with the social responsibility stick and thinks that Miss California doesn’t fit the squeaky-clean role model, since photos of her, semi-nude, have surfaced. But wait, there were other issues: one was her answer to Perez Hilton about same sex marriage. (Turns out she prefers “opposite” marriage.) That was the initial bump to the national news stage. Then the photos began to trickle out. And apparently, the fact that there are risqué photos isn’t the issue, it’s that she didn’t disclose them before the pageant. Hmm. But then, she reportedly began to speak to anti-gay marriage people, like focus on the Family, and was not performing her non-political duties. That’s a pretty big deal, comparatively, I’d say; I’d say it’s the best reason to kick her off the stage. Not performing her duties, not remaining politically neutral. “Satan asked me that question, and God told me how to answer.” That’s really what she said. No, really. If that doesn’t point to the looseness of her screws, I don’t know what should.

But no. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was those photos. And the board abdicated their authority, and left the decision to The Donald. Oh wait. There was another little tidbit that came out: The pageant had purchased her boobs for her. And the photos, of course, were all about the boobs. Not sure if they were taken pre-boob job or post. But the fact that there was a boob job, paid for by the pageant, isn’t that a bit of a hypocritical move?

Anyway, The Donald came out and said: I paid for her boobs, I like the photos of her boobs, and I want her boobs to stay in front of the camera.

Remember that this whole thing started with a question about same sex marriage. Which I think she answered quite diplomatically, even if I didn’t agree with the answer. It was supposed to be her opinion, right? She said something like, it’s great that we live in a land where people can do what they want, but for me, I prefer “opposite” marriage. That’s what she said. I’d say that fits the bill: she was politically correct first, and then went ahead and proffered her preference. What the hell’s wrong with that? But Mr. Hilton pushed his way into the national spotlight to savage her. (And then, to call her a bitch, and then to take it back, then to take back the take-back. But he’s really another story.) And while it did get him some attention, it pushed her numbers way up, too; she got way more than her share of fame. Kind of the “opposite” of what a person pushing a certain agenda would want, don’tcha think? Wonder if he has any regrets. I guess it depends on if he gets the irony.

So back to the finale: The Donald rules, the chickie with the new boobs stays, and a woman on the board, one of those people who passed the decision onto The Donald so as to keep from making enemies, either way, has now decided that the Trump decision crosses her personal scruples standard. Shanna Moakler, a former Miss USA , said in a statement issued by her publicist Wednesday that she no longer “believes” in the organization.

Glad someone is responding to the social responsibility stick.

The First 100 Days

Okay, I watch cable news. All day, every day, actually. I'm a cable news junkie. I float from MSNBC to CNN to FoxNews (for only the time it takes me to feel that little throw-up in the back of my throat), to HLN, back to MSNBC. Short stops at CNBC, local news, C-Span, etc. Talk radio news, online news, I check everything. Frequently.

So what's happening now is that everyone on the cable news channels is gearing up for that most random of milestones, the First 100 Days of the Progress of the President. Except that it might fit in someone's idea of a metric measure of time, I can't for the life of me understand this desire to look at exactly 100 days, and then "grade" the President. We as Americans do have a phenomenally short attention span, so I guess I shouldn't mind a little review: "What We Have Learned So Far" about our new president. Okay, whatever. Review away. But "grade" him? Against what? Against who? For what purpose? Or is it just for the pollsters, to keep them busy?

So I'm watching one of these guys who has a truth-o-meter, and he's saying that about half the time, the President is telling the truth, and about half the time he's lying, or some such thing. I wasn't really listening.

That's when I realized I didn't care WHAT the President was saying. I decided that I no longer care. It worked for the Republicans for the last 8 years. They all seemed to accept what Bush and Co. did and said as the Gospel Truth, and never even questioned what kind of b.s. came out of the White House (or out of whatever mole-hole Cheney was hiding in.) And I kept thinking, why? Why, when it's right in front of them do they simply close their own eyes tighter? What kind of freedom-loving, flag-waving, patriot-proving so-called Americans are they, to never question their leader? Isn't that the beginnings of fascism? But that's another topic. Just a thought.

That's when it hit me. (So to speak.) And here it is: I voted for Obama. I trust Obama. I want to continue to trust him. And I realize that the trust the Repubs put in Bush is exactly what I want in Obama. I want him to have all the information, make all the decisions, and do what's best for the country, and leave me out of it. That's right. I want to believe in the person I voted for, and be done with it.

I am not saying, by that way, that I don't care. I care very much. But I don't want to be bothered by all these yahoos running around voting or rating or grading the President after a very short 100 days. What I see is, his polls are good, he's been everywhere, he's pushed on a lot of issues, and he's run the Repubs into the ground. What else is there? What do I care about the minutia, or more specifically, the ginned up 100 Days extravaganza that will be all over the cable airwaves on Wednesday?

I care not. So on Wednesday, I will boycott this pseudo-news.

Unless something really exciting happens.

The Art of Spewing Forth

As I've no doubt said to many of you, I keep thinking I should write something. I get stuck when it comes to subject matter, though, and edit myself right out of the topic. It's too cliche, it's too "done", it's too personal, it's too boring, it's too common. Somebody's already done it, who needs it from you?

But then I remember a line from an song from a musical (because that's the kind of girl I am) and I think, Yeah, its been done, but not done by ME. That's what should make it different/special/worthwhile. I've used that advice on others, and it always seems to work. But what am I bringing to the proverbial table here, really?

Let's look at some options. Some say, write about what you know. Okay, what do I know about? Well, I know some things about art and design, I know some things about theatre and the art of visual communication, I know some things about debt (getting in that pool and getting back out), I know a few things about some health issues, I know something about failed relationships. But looking over my life, I see nothing of (very much) interest. In fact, I see these exciting and dramatic things happening to others, and I say, why can't something interesting happen to me?

Am I asking for trouble? You bet.

How about setting myself up as some kind of expert? I can't even type that without laughing. Well, I could become an Expert, then write about it. Yes, but it seems a person should be interesting in what ever their Topic is, and I can't seem to find a passion for anything. Now that's a problem.

Okay, how about fiction? Yeah, I think I could write some fiction. That comes fairly easily to me. But can I write something some other person would want to read? Probably, but that's not the issue, is it? I oughta be writing it because I can, not because I should. Clearly not a passion there yet, either.

I read other people, and I think, well, if I'm looking at their work and thinking, "I can do that", well then I should DO that. "Well, maybe..." Now even I am getting annoyed at my limitless ability to balk.

So I'll be trying out some different kinds of topics here. If you like something, let me know. If you don't, you could let me know that, too. I'll be taking your collective silence as a Go, though, so you'd better weigh in if you want me to quit. Goddess knows we really don't need one more wishy-washy writer. But if what I'm spewing forth in any way touches you, hit that comment button and spew right back at me. We'll both feel better.

Why is anyone even talking to Cheney?

Why is anyone seeking out the former vice president for his opinion on anything, much less on the new administration? Cheney has made a point of speaking ill of the Obama Administration. Even with the "no comment" rule self-imposed on ex-presidents, Cheney has once again proved that neither the rule of law or rules of courtesy will deny the man his right to act irresponsibly. And after living in the shadows for eight years, now he decides to speak.

Well, it is a free country. A person can choose to ignore what he says. But what I don't understand is why on god's green earth would anyone seek him out and ask him anything, anything! I don't want to know what toothpaste he uses, much less what he thinks about the economy, or the deficit, or the health care crisis, or unemployment, or foreign policy. His response to the fact that the $128 billion surplus was not just lost, but fell to to a $1.3 trillion deficit,was, "Stuff happens!"

How helpful.

Which again, begs the question: why are we talking to this guy? Who the hell is interested in what he has to say? Isn't there anyone else to talk to?

What do you think?

Yet Another Cattle Shoot

I've just received training to use the new, improved time management system that my employer is implementing. It has far more bells, whistles, fields to fill out and buttons to click than the one before, and I can only assume it's a wet dream for those folks in accounting. It probably can create dozens of reports from all kinds of perspectives with all manner of information. Wow. That must be exciting.
For those who don't come from cattle country, a shoot is a device that forces cattle into a less-than-happy single file line. "Doing this allows the rancher, farmer, or vet control each animal for inspection, tagging, etc." But, alas, as one of the cattle facing one more shoot, I can only say this: I am, as a cow, already domesticated, I'm already in a fenced-in pasture, I'm already trained where to go for food, water, shelter. I also have a variety of shoots as it is. I have tax shoots, motor vehicle registration shoots, health and car insurance shoots, employment shoots, flex account shoots, money account shoots, etc etc, and I know I have fewer shoots than the people who have own their own homes, or have their own businesses, or who adopted a child, who enlisted in the military, or invest in the stock market, etc etc.
What I want to know is: what kind of person needs to gather, organize, and spit out all of this information? And why do I have to have them all up in my business? And most importantly, why, oh why, do they always "upgrade" or "improve" their systems and inevitably eliminate the few perks I use?
"Improvements" always means less space. It becomes a smaller shoot, more narrowly defined. It becomes one with more sensors, with less wiggle room. Am I feeling a little claustrophobic? I would not have defined myself as a open space girl: the idea of camping, or living on a farm would normally give me a stomach ache. I would have defined myself as a city girl. But the city has rules; civilization, it seems, comes in forms to fill out, and sign, date, and don't forget to add your branding tag, I mean, your social security number.
Yes, I'm feeling a bit wedged in.
I find myself thinking of a little farm, with chickens and goats, with no clocks or calendars, getting up with the sun (and I am NOT a "morning" person) and eating when I'm hungry, resting when I'm tired, moving when I'm stiff and doing what I want.
I'm pretty good at that last one.
I've been alphabetized and accumulated, categorized and codified, defined and divided, rated, ranked, sorted, sized, labeled and listed, placed and pigeon-holed. Reminds me of Paul Simon's A Simple Desultory Philippic (or How I was Robert McNamera'd into Submission).

I been Ayn Randed, nearly branded
Communist, 'cause I'm left-handed.
That's the hand I use, well, never mind!
,
(I'm left-handed, so this song really spoke to me as a child. Good beginnings...)

I don't really get why it's so important to be branded. I would relish breaking free of my tag. Just cutting it off, like a skin tag.

What I do get is why this makes me dangerous, and why I get that look: "what's your problem? Why can't you get used to one more shoot? It's not like you have to think or anything. It's easy."

Moo, is all I'm sayin'.

A Good Book, A Long Wait, and A New Old Friend

A Good Book. I've always been a fairly avid reader. I have stacks of books in (nearly) every room, stacks near my bed, stacks on my bed, in some eternal, internal plea that I could glean something by just having them near me. I try, surely, to absorb them in my sleep. I'm always searching for the book that will capture my imagination, that will give me the answer, that will fix my life. Clearly, there's a lot of disappointment. But recently, a very close friend, a brilliant writer, and definitely a bibliophile in the contextual sense, gave me a tip on a book she'd read. It's called "Odd Women" by George Gissing. Written in the later part of the 19th century, set in England, it is a valuable reflection of the life and choices women faced just as the women's movement was trying to find its footing. "George" isn't an pseudonym in this case, it was really written by a man. That's part of what makes it incredible, because it seems to me that he had the amazing ability to empathize with both genders' situations, and even to create credible relationships.

It's about five "odd" women. "Odd" in this case means both "unmarried" and "singular" in their thinking; that is, the two main women find themselves in situations with men that are not of their choosing, and they realize the difficulties of a society that only values a woman if she's married. As a happily confirmed single person, I found it quite amazing. A little bit difficult to read because of the heightened language, but the mores of the times are jaw-dropping. How far we've come, how far we have to go, that sort of thing. Anyway, I've just finished, and I miss the characters. A sure sign of a good book.

A Long Wait. We're waiting now, waiting to see the full cast. We're bored, perhaps, with the two stars, Obama and McCain, and we are on the edge of our seats waiting for their announcements of running mates. And the conjecture is thundering. There have been (and will be, until it's over) hundreds of hours pondering the choices, the signs, the possibilities, the reasons, the yada-yada-yada as we wait, a little like young children in the back seat: Are we there yet? How about now? Now? Then when? It's another perfect example of the tail wagging the dog. Stay tuned....

A New Old Friend. Recently, I got talked into creating a Facebook page. Well, fooled into it is a little more accurate. Anyway, I felt pretty silly. I can see why it's so much fun as a teenager, or even a college student, I guess, but I thought to myself, why do I need a page? It felt like filling out a page for my yearbook. A bit juvenile. After all, I, as a so-called grown-up, can connect with anyone I wanted to by picking up the phone. And don't I have everyone in my life that I need? Who needs tons of friends to keep up with? And if people pop up from my past, isn't that, kind of, asking for trouble?

Well, I was wrong. Very wrong. Silly me. (That'll teach me, right? Of course, right!) At first, I reconnected with a couple of college buddies, that's good, people I chose to hang with, so I'm still confident in our connection points. A couple of high school buddies, good, didn't have as much choice in h.s., but as I remember, I found some pretty choice friends there, too.

But then, out of that proverbial clear blue s., along came a friend from elementary school, can you imagine? Now, I had not just remembered her, but we were so tight then that I have often thought of her in the years since. I was an only child at that point, and she was as close to a sister as I could have. She had siblings, but they were much older, so she probably thought of me the same way. I grew up in a very small town where nothing much ever changed. Her family came, and left, rather quickly (to me her departure was wrenching). Maybe that was it. Anyway, up she pops, "are you the same one I grew up with?" and poof. A new, old friend. Not even a friend I grew up with, and yet we have so much in common, I think if we met today, we'd be fast friends in a blink of an eye. Now that's just weird. How does your best friend from like the 3rd grade (in a VERY small town, where the choices are FEW) end up being someone you'd've picked as a grown-up?
I'm still in awe. And, it the very weirdest twist, as we try to catch up with each other's life, I'm realizing something I would NEVER have thought of, when I signed up with Facebook: It works both ways. Yes, you may discover that there was a reason you and the high school buddy grew apart, and that's ever so obvious now, but that you ALSO might connect with someone who liked you before all the angst and pain and depression and heartache that has become so much a part of you, and if there's still a connection, maybe you had some of the good qualities then, before it all got screwed up. Maybe I wasn't quite the blank slate I thought of myself as. Does that makes sense? If we still connect, nearly 40 years later, maybe there really was a connection then, and maybe it was us in our purest selves, and maybe it's without all the gunk that's happened since.

Well, whatever it is, it has made me really quite happy, and more importantly, hopeful, in a way I haven't felt in a long time. Weird, huh?

What I See from Here

Ain't this a kick in the head! My little corner of the world, now complete with its own little mega-microphone. Today's topics: John Edwards, Clinton-fanatics, and Why Can't I Ever Eat on Time.
Mr. Edwards' story seems to be getting hotter, not cooler, as troublemakers like Fox News look around for more people in "the know" to proffer their opinion. As I condemn Edwards' behavior and am deeply saddened and angry that yet another (possibly) decent leader with good ideas is torpedoed by his own ego (and other body parts), I wonder why this continues to happen to our leaders. I wish we could find a way to deal with this that doesn't include plucking the party-girl's posse out of obscurity to probe the part of the story we should not care about: her side. What we should care about is the other woman: you remember, the wife? What was she thinking, supporting this liar? And how on goddess' green earth was she able to stand there, next to him, and lend her abilities and (maybe very little) time to advance a man she knew was lying? And it's always the lying, isn't it? The affair is bad enough, the payoff might make it worse, but it's the LYING. It's always the lying. Do we (they: men) ever learn anything?

Clintonistas: The fantasy, the underdogs, the next Big Move. I am only beginning to hear of this movement, and if you haven't I encourage you to poke around a bit for information about "The Denver Group". It seems they fancy themselves the next purveyors of the Boston Tea Party. The metaphor is a little off, unless they're also asking for a tax break. They're trying to portray themselves as the outcasts, the rebels for their cause, a rebellion of the establishment. But this seems backwards to me. To me, it seems that they WERE the establishment: for 15 years, the Clintons ruled the Democratic Party. What's bucking the trend is the way Obama and his campaign have always taken the high road, never letting the barbs hit the target, always gracious in the face of such ridiculous actions. I don't think The Obama et al, have ever asked for any special treatment, and in fact they have gone out of their way to behave in an inclusive manner. So here are the questions: What, really is the point of these fanatic Clinton supporters? Why are they so poisoned against Obama? If the media didn't treat Hillary fairly (and I, as an AVID news watcher and a feminist, never felt that to be true), why does that make them mad at Obama? What did he do to strike this anger into their hearts? Why aren't they angry at McCain? What is to be gained? What will be lost, if we do not unite in Denver? How is winning this battle going to be judged if we lose the war?

And finally: why can't I eat on time? I should be eating meals with some regularity, for managing blood sugar levels. But I often find I've overdone it. I've tried to do "just one more thing" before eating, and the next thing I know I'm getting a little dizzy or sluggish and that's too late. Argh. Maybe the question should be: why is it so hard to take care of me? I've been around me all my life, and for most of that time, Mom wasn't poking my face with a spoon. I have to do it every day, in some fashion. But I don't plan ahead, I don't keep track, and I don't even manage to keep those little snack-y foods around for this very problem. It's odd to me. If I really have some kind of deep-seated desire to survive, why do I also sabotage myself?

Happy trails -