This Blog Doesn't Shed

53%

2011-10-16T17:17:00.012-04:00

I have to take a minute and comment on this whole "I AM the 53%" response to Occupy Wall Street. Of course the original stat* itself is a distortion. And of course the underlying implication is that only those 47% slacker/losers are occupying Wall St or involved in the movement elsewhere. Of course if you are protesting the system as it exists right now, it is because you don't work, don't want to work, want a free hand-out, and probably don't shower regularly either. Which of course isn't true about the people involved in the Occupations, but it makes for much more interesting propaganda this way, right?

Once you divide up that 47% what you find is about half of them are simply too poor to pay taxes. That is anyone with an income level below $26,400 a year for a family of 4 taking standard deductions. These people are the working poor. People who go to work every day, or most days, since many low-paying jobs do not hire anyone for full-time. Or perhaps literally every day since they have to juggle the hours from 2 different jobs to even come close to stretching the ends together. They take care of your kids when you drop them off at day care. They change the sheets for your elderly parents in nursing homes. They ring up your gas and lottery tickets at the gas station, and your No. 12 meal with a coke at the fast food place for lunch. You may be able to convince yourself that you work harder or your work is more valuable and so it's no big deal they are paid so little, but just imagine how well your day would run without their help.

So you want them to pay taxes too, right? Aside from the fact they DO pay taxes and fees on everything else they use, OK then! Let's add income tax to the mix. How will we do that? By paying them enough money so they can pay taxes! Then let's see how much your latte costs, how much more it will be for a tank of gas, how many bargains you'll find at Walmart. I about bet within a very short time you're going to wish you were paying less than a buck a year in taxes for a poor mom to get some free milk for her kids through the WIC program than for how much it would cost you to actually pay everyone who works what they need to pay taxes themselves.

And another thing I cannot understand. All of this anger directed towards the poor. It's especially ironic when it comes from people who declare themselves to be good Christians, since Jesus was pretty clear which side of the rich/poor divide he was on, but that aside, how can you be this enraged at people who basically have nothing? Yeah yeah I know that you personally saw the proverbial welfare queen swiping her food stamp card to pay for a cart full of steaks and lobster, which you cannot afford to buy with cash! Which she loaded into a brand new Escalade she beeped open with a diamond-encrusted key ring. Except I don't believe you or anyone has ever actually seen this, anymore than anyone "personally knows" someone who named their twins Lemonjello and Orangejello but by all means, keep the legends alive. Do you think being poor is fun? Hey those homeless people don't even have to work a day anywhere, and they can roam around wherever their feet can take them, and even get some meals and a place to sleep at maybe if it's super hot or really cold! Do you have any idea at all how soul-sucking it is to always be scrounging up a few bucks to stay ahead of having utilities shut off? To never see any part of the world outside of your own city block? Unless it's on TV and you're kinda mad they have TVs to begin with! To never be able to give your child something special they want and would probably appreciate a whole lot more than most of the kids who have everything? And then you get pissed off because they buy a store-baked birthday cake? Because they could manage their money better than that! Why can't you understand that there are no easy fixes for poverty? No one is suggesting you have to spend your Thanksgiving dishing out meals at a soup kitchen but can you at least TRY to set aside your anger for a small amount of compassion? For maybe a day or so, just to see how it feels?

Back to the "We Are The 53%" counter-movement. I went to the website and read some of their stories. One after another are people who have lost job, been laid off, filed bankruptcy....??? OK you made it anyhow. That's great. You don't want a hand-out. We don't either. And yet, you're angry at us for believing someone who makes millions should pay their fair share too?! Some of the same people whose mismanagement caused the economic problems that lead to yours to begin with? Only they got bailed out and you did not but you defend them? I truly do not get it.

I picked this woman's story somewhat at random. You seem like a hard-working young woman who has accomplished a lot. I'm sure your parents are very proud. To begin with though, if your family is middle class, they should have been able to help you go to college. If you worked hard and got good grades, it should not have come down to waiting by the mailbox holding your breath every day to see if maybe you'd be the one lucky enough to get a scholarship. It also sounds as though you are probably still in college too. It doesn't sound like you work while you're in school or you probably would have mentioned it so I have to assume you either live at home or your family supports you in some way. So in fact you do have many breaks that not everyone can manage. Either way, I hope your hard work continues to pay off because this is about the fact that for most of us, even doing everything "right" has not. Do us a favor and check back when you graduate and head out into the real world, OK? I hope you don't find out all of your hard work and dedication will get you no farther than a job as a sales clerk at Old Navy. Like it or not, you are the 99%.

*

This Is About You, Too,

2011-10-15T22:07:00.014-04:00

It seems a little silly at first. Something as important-sounding as a General Assembly being organized around hand signals: thumbs up, thumbs down, thumbs sideways for indifferent. A little fluttering wave in place of applause. There's also some irony in realizing many of the people working hardest to maintain order in this manner probably weren't exactly kids who colored in the lines. Yes it can be a little awkward. People who are used to plowing ahead and getting things done might feel a little impatient with a process that waits its turn. What is happening here and everywhere is something entirely new. This is not the way we usually run things. There is no board of directors, no Robert's Rules of Order. We are literally re-creating democracy from the sidewalks of nearly every city in this country. Everyone is welcome. Everyone is equal. And everyone has a chance to say what is on their minds.

I've always been a little in awe of what the founders of this country put together. That they created this amazing system with so many checks and balances and seemed to think of practically everything all of those years ago. And over the past few years I have thought, well no they didn't think of this: the greed, the inequality, the fact that even justice can be paid for or lost if you can't afford its price. But then a sign at Monday's rally showed that yes, yes they did foresee even the place we are at now.

“The end of democracy and the defeat of the American Revolution will occur when government falls into the hands of lending institutions and moneyed incorporations.”
― Thomas Jefferson

And so now it is up to us to put something in place that works again.

On Monday someone asked me why I was there. We all have specific reasons, although the media is making a bigger deal over those differences than we are. I replied "All of it. None of it is working anymore."

No matter what your personal motivation is I about bet that somewhere behind it is money. It is wrong to throw 100 year old women out of their homes so these houses can sit empty until they fall to the ground, when we all know that eventually those banks will profit from those homes. It is wrong to continue to destroy this planet because what's needed to be done to save it can't be bought or sold. It's wrong that a country that has been built by a strong labor movement is now dismantling the rights we have worked decades to achieve. It is wrong that our politicians no longer actually represent us but rather are paid for because of the costs of running for election. And because of their own personal lust for power. It is wrong that families have to put together fundraisers for medical care to save a child's life while insurance companies bring in piles of profits. It is wrong that the quality of education a child gets depends on the neighborhood they happen to live in. It is wrong that the same young adults who were told all their lives they had to attend college to make something of their lives now have nothing to show for that work except for loans they cannot pay. The list is nearly endless.

And don't tell me there isn't money. There is money. Every time a bank or corporation needs bailed out. Every time we have to fight a war. There's money for billionaires to buy presidential candidates and money for lobbyists to shove through laws that someone is willing to pay for too.

This isn't about socialism. I don't want the same as everyone else. I don't care if you're rich and I'm not. What I care about is everything in our lives that is now being bought and sold by a very few. Isn't there a saturation point when you can no longer possibly need so much money?! This is about what is fair. And it is about what will happen in each and every one of our lives over the next few years and forever

It's a small crowd in Toledo but every time I have been there, there have been a few new people. People who have come down because they have something to add and want to be heard. People of all ages and backgrounds and walks of life. People who show up knowing no one but come to say something no one else wants to hear. There is something happening now that resonates with all of them.

I don't have the answers. I don't think any one person does. I don't know where this leads. I do believe though that together we can work this out and I have to believe that we will.

But here's another fact. We cannot change society via facebook. It is a tool, yes, and certainly the internet is why this has spread so rapidly but it has also lead us to believe we are actively involved in something because we see it on our monitors every day. My concern about the success or failure of what is happening now isn't the weather. I am sure that public officials in most places believe this will fall apart on its own when it gets even colder or starts to snow. I believe we will work around that somehow, even if the actual structure changes in some way.

What will do us in is our collectively short attention span. We care about this until that comes along and the focus shifts. And NOTHING ever actually changes. So what have you done? It's not about a hierarchy of dedication. I believe the people who are actually occupying the camps, especially in this weather, are the true heroes but it is up to all of us, too. Do something to let them know you support this movement. Show up with a hot cooked meal or some cookies and hot chocolate. Stay for a General Assembly. Sign up for a work group or to teach something you know. Offer to do a load of laundry or clean up the camps. Donate some cash. Or some winter camping gear. Make phone calls and write letters in support of what your group is doing or to demand they be treated fairly. Use your imagination and think of one thing you can do to help. Most importantly JUST SHOW UP. The Occupations wherever you are need YOU too. I know you care. I know we all do. This is way too important to the future of our country, of the world, to leave it up to someone else.

dinner with James Baldwin

2011-01-18T09:14:00.012-05:00

"The children, very soon, did not need me at all, except as a benign adult presence. They began talking to one another. They were talking of their desire to know one another. Each was trying to enter into the experience of the other. The exchanges were sharp and remarkably candid, but never fogged by an unadmitted fear of hostility. They were trying to become whole." -James Baldwin, about teaching at BGSU, as quoted by Dr. Ernest Champion

In fall of 1979, we lived in a pumpkin-colored house on S. Church St in Bowling Green, OH. The color was a misunderstanding of what "autumn gold" would turn out to be, from when my roommates painted the house that summer. I can't recall exactly but assume the dinner was Ted's idea. I just shake my head now in wry amusement. A bunch of white, middle class 20 and 21 year olds from northwest Ohio inviting James Baldwin over for dinner.

Baldwin had originally taught at BGSU the previous spring, for a course through the new Ethnic Studies department about his own books. I believe now Ted pushed me to take the course when he first heard about it, not sure why I didn't, but once Baldwin arrived halfway through, he was unrelenting: "You HAVE to come to this class!!!" I had a Personality Theory class at the same time but cut my class and went along with him anyhow. Once I did, I never went back to learn more about Freud.

It's representative of my early college years that I walked away without a backward glance. College: The Early Years were oftentimes much more about life than learning. I started and stopped more times than I can remember now, registered for entire quarters and didn't go, went to some classes a few times and dropped out. A nice spring day, a random comment from a professor, a new romance. Anything could sidetrack me then. When I finally went back in the 90s as a serious student, I was surprised to find I had managed credit for that personality class after all, with a C. I vaguely remember running in to take the multiple choice final, so assume rushing through and checking psychologists' names at random must have worked out better than I'd thought.

Baldwin's class was in one of the big round lecture rooms. (I want to say 220 Math-Science but can't believe my memory can accurately pull up that bit of information.) I do know we divided ourselves up on either side of the room by race, and that's what we talked about, sometimes angrily, tripping over each others' stories, both sides doing exactly what Baldwin remembers: trying to explain and understand. We talked about South Africa and America and our own lives. I remember some of the faces still, and Baldwin at the front of the class, always pushing us to question, to learn more.

I grew up in a small town in Ohio. I literally knew no one at all who was black until I went to college. The one thing I credit my mother for more than anything else in my life is she taught me early and often that "everyone is the same inside, no matter what color their skin." She'd left that town as a young adult and lived in NYC and she knew when she took us back as young children, those weren't lessons we'd learn on our own. During Baldwin's first class, it occurred to me that I wasn't alone in my isolation. In many cases, both sides of the room were learning about the other for the first time.

I don't know if Ted started his friendship with Jimmy that quarter or not. It's easy to assume he stayed after class, continuing whatever discussion had started earlier, easy to imagine him walking along afterwards, still expounding on whatever thoughts he'd been in the middle of. Baldwin came back as a visiting professor the following fall and we all signed up for his class. He chose our reading list: Things Fall Apart, Heart of Darkness, Native Son. Somewhere along the line, we invited him over for dinner.

The preparations took all day. I remember part of our menu. I made stir-fried vegetables. Ted made shish kabob and homemade cinnamon rolls. I think Susan baked bread. Jeff was missing in action throughout the day, and rushed in shortly before dinner with his contribution: a bottle of scotch. When we complained about his late entrance, he said it didn't matter. He had Glenlivet! Eventually everything was ready and our guests arrived. We believed we were just having dinner with James Baldwin but 3 or 4 people from the university came too, real grown-ups. I can't begin to imagine how they decided to come along or what talk there might have been at the fact he was joining us at all.

I still laugh to myself even after all these years at how our dinner turned out. Ted pushing his platter of shish kabobs on everyone. The nicely dressed woman from the university across from me, looking uncomfortable. Dr. Champion next to her, enjoying our food and having a good time. Jimmy and Jeff side by side on one end on the table, sharing the scotch. Much to Ted's dismay, Baldwin barely ate anything, although I'm still pleased to say he did sample my vegetables. As it turned out, Jeff's bottle of scotch trumped all the food we'd made. I assume the rest of us drank wine as they got drunker and Jeff got louder and louder, the rest of us drowned out and either watching the two of them or our plates. I have no idea now what they were arguing about but even then I realized this was a complete disaster socially and absolutely wonderful just the same.

I am uncertain whether or not to tell what happened next. Perhaps this part of the story is too titillating to share but I think it counts for something as well. I believe the others left shortly after dinner, but Jimmy and my friends moved into the living room, still drinking and talking. I missed the actual exchange but came back to find he had propositioned my roommate. To me at that time it was a non-issue. So what? Ted was a beautiful man, and Baldwin was gay. Of course now I realize my lack of interest in the whole drama had something to do with gender. For a 20 year old woman, being hit on was something that could happen anytime. For Ted, it was an enormous deal. For Baldwin? I can't begin to know his motivation. I don't believe he expected to get a yes. Perhaps it was just the drinking and the adoration and a spur of the moment "why not try?" but I wonder if maybe it wasn't a small reminder of who he really was. I'm not the wise dad you wish you had. I'm a gay man and if we're to become friends, you need to face that. They must have worked it out somehow because they all did remain friends until he died.

I have to be clear here. Jimmy wasn't my friend. In those days I was quieter, taking it all in, outshone perhaps by the flash of Jeff and Ted, the little sister tagging along. Another time, Jeff decided we would drop by Jimmy's apartment. It was probably midnight and we'd been drinking. I was skeptical but he brashly insisted it would be fine, and it was. We sat around the dining room table in that standard Bowling Green rental and finished a 6 pack of Heineken. That night he talked to me. I can remember his face and his eyes and I know he talked about love. I wish I could remember his words.

Out of everything from then, the one thing he said that I recall the most clearly is that what was most challenging about teaching us was how to answer the "question behind the question," that he had to find the exact words to answer what we said with our words and what we were asking with our eyes. It was a strange concept to me then. How can you answer questions people weren't even asking? Now of course I understand the eyes really do reflect our soul, and I appreciate the concern he took with all of us to find the right answers.

I remember him as always unrelentingly kind and patient, and yet even then I knew that for all his fame and recognition, for all the people who loved James Baldwin the writer, he was still a lonely man who drank too much. I cringe now a little at my own youthful naivety. Did I expect exuberant happiness from a gay black man who'd lived during those times? Still I wonder now if being face to face with the reality of fame didn't shape my own choices to some degree, to live with little concern about external "success" and work instead on who I am.

Baldwin called us "children" and I can imagine our outrage at the time to be thought of in those terms, but we were still kids, weren't we? Children whose childhood had been steeped in the changes of the 60s and 70s. We were passionate and dramatically confident, barely aware of the gathering mists of our individual issues and insanities. We watched everything that went on in the world and we were certain we would change it.

I love us all then, those I've remained friends with for more than 30 years and those I knew only briefly. We crammed more life into those few years than I have managed in many of my decades since. We're all nearly the same age as Baldwin was then and I can see now how delightful we must have been to him. I understand that part of growing gracefully into these years is being able to enjoy seeing our children live through the things we remember, and to believe the torch will be passed on. And the world did change, didn't it? For all we find wrong with it still today, in many ways it's a world he wouldn't recognize.

I may have fallen short at times but I'd like to believe that most of my life I've spoken out about right and wrong, continued to think and care. I'd like to believe he'd like me now still, be proud in a way of the person I've been and become. If I could tell him one more thing, I would say thanks. Thank you, Mr. Baldwin, for everything.

August 29, 1981

2010-01-16T20:47:00.020-05:00

There's a precise moment between before and after, when the world tilts just enough to cast a shadow on the past, and blurs the lens through which you see everything afterwards. We have to start there. That moment for me is when my brother's friend walked into my mom's kitchen and said, "You have to come. It's Steve."

August 29,1981. I was 23, days away from having my first child. Steven was 21, days away from 22, and had graduated that morning with a Bachelor's in Social Work. I was inside helping to get food around for his party. He was outside with friends, hanging out by the newly-dug farm pond. I don't remember what happened after I saw the fear on David's face. I do know I called for help. I remember the faces of the people in the water, coming up for air. I screamed, his name over and over until I was made to stop. I searched the surrounding cornfields for him, willing him to walk out, be anywhere but underneath the still, flat surface of that pond.

Divers came, emergency units. We were asked to wait in the house, all of us, my family, his friends. I watched from a back bedroom window, the divers surface, compare notes, go back to look again. I watched when they finally found him, and pulled his body from the water onto the shore.

They tried forever to bring him back. And then they took out a white sheet, shook it to full size, and covered his body.

Of course the unspoken question is "couldn't he swim?" And the answer is "No, he couldn't." He went to swimming lessons when we were kids, and screamed and begged not to have to go back. One of my dad's friends remembers taking us to a beach when we were very young. Steven stood in water to his knees, sobbing, "I'm going to drown." Do I believe he foresaw his own death? I don't know. His fears obviously lead to it. The pond was new that year, too. We'd only even used it a few times. I'm sure eventually someone would have said "hey, Steve shouldn't be out on the rowboat without a life jacket" but we didn't get that chance.

Later I found out he was on the boat with our brother, Mark. His friends hung out on shore. The boat tipped and Steven panicked. Mark held onto him for as long as he could, and then to save his own life, he had to let go.

One true thing is there is a moment upon wakening when you are conscious but have yet to remember what is missing. And then the pain bludgeons you again. I had barely experienced loss at all. Even losing the pets we had made me cry for days. The first days were annihilating. One minute someone is standing tall beside you, laughing, and you never in a million years would imagine they would ever not be there. And a minute later, they are completely gone, except for their body in a casket and several days to try to say "goodbye."

Six days after he died, I gave birth to my oldest daughter. No one defines it more precisely than Sylvia Plath:
"It is as though my heart put on a face and walked into the world."

I was submerged in love and loss and understanding and confusion. There were times when I could feel my mind slipping sideways. And so I simply locked his death away, pushed it behind a wall and believed I could nail the door shut.

Trains Don't Stop

2010-01-05T10:43:00.008-05:00

Early the next morning, the investigator called me, woke me out of the dead (no pun intended) sleep. He told me they interview everyone who is involved in a train/car accident, well, when there's someone left to interview. Apparently a tape of our conversation exists in some national accident archives. After the official accounting was over, he asked me "off the record" how I'd managed to be hit by a train. Was I rushing home to watch Monday Night Football? I have to wonder if he's ever heard a satisfactory answer to that question.

The front page newspaper article in the town I lived in proclaimed "Quick Thinking Motorist Saves Woman's Life." I'm still annoyed by that version of the story. Yes, the car coming towards me flashed its lights as it came over the tracks. I thought "What? Are my lights off?" Checked and they were on. Looked around for another moment or two, trying to decipher what their warning was about, then glanced to my right and realized: TRAIN!!

I slammed on the brakes and ended up partway on the tracks. I immediately tried to shove the gear shift into reverse, while flooring the car. (I can't help but imagine how surprised the car behind me would have been if I'd been successful and smashed into them instead.) Throughout it all I had one clear thought: Trains don't stop.

The engineer was blowing his whistle. Yes, I know you're coming. I am quite sure you can see I am doing what I can to get out of this mess, before it becomes an even bigger mess. The light from the train shown brightly into my car. I missed reverse and hit park (DAMN!) and as I was yanking it back down to "R," a freight train going an estimated 40-45 MPH hit the front end of the Chrysler that had been my parents' car, then my brother's, then mine.

(Even though I miraculously made it through without injury, in spite of the fact the front seat belt was broken and so I ended up in the back seat, they took me to the ER for X-rays. I didn't want to even tell my parents, but couldn't figure out how to explain the missing car. I called collect from a payphone, told my mom I was OK and so was my infant daughter, but the car was totaled. I swear to god she said "I never did like that car.")

The tracks on that country road run at an angle. Apparently lots of people were hit there before (and I assume after) me. The investigator told me the same engineer had killed someone there about a year before. It takes a while for something that size to come to a stop, even after knocking a car off to the side of the road like some child's plaything. The engineer has to make that walk back, not knowing what he'll find when he gets there. I still feel apologetic about putting him through that. The people in the small town there come out too. They were all standing around in the parking lot we ended up in. Everyone seemed happy we made it. My main question to the government guy was what does it take to get lights or crossing rails? He told me that it's partly determined by how many accidents occur and how many of those accidents result in fatalities. I'd hindered the process somewhat by actually living. It was about 15 more years before they installed lights and gates.

My 6 week old daughter skewed their stats, too. She only woke up long enough to cry for a minute from her car seat. I'm pretty sure she's never had a train phobia, although I still get a jolt of adrenaline at the sound of a train nearby. In those days car seats weren't required; in fact, they were rarely even used. I had brought her home from the hospital in my lap. I was the one who insisted I get a car seat and kept her safely strapped in at all times. OK so in the front seat but obviously without that foresight, the story would have ended more tragically than it did.

I had my dog in the car with me too. She took off running as soon as someone opened the door. The train wreck guy sadly assured me I would never see her again. He said in 20 years of investigating accidents he had never heard of someone finding their dog. Dogs run from fear and by the time they stop they are so far from home you can't find them again. My dog stayed in a nearby corn field. I got her back a day later when someone saw her there and called. I've heard of many other stories where dogs are found after accidents. All I can come up with is he is only hearing what happens immediately afterwards and doesn't realize things can change later on. If I'd had his number I would have called him back and told him he was wrong.

I realize he was just doing his job but I still resent his early morning phone call. I'd barely had any sleep to begin with. Friends picked me up from the ER and I spent many hours at their house that night, finding God. Surely there was a reason I lived through this! Surely God's hand was involved! That only lasts so long before you begin to ask why God would even bother, or if God was bothering, why he couldn't have sent me back into the house to get something else, and made me miss the train entirely?

When the call woke me, I was dreaming about Heaven. It was the only time since his death I have ever dreamt about my brother Steven. I've since read about the place where I saw him in "Life after Death" accounts: all rolling green fields and bright warm sunshine. And a feeling of love and peace so overwhelming that I wanted to cry when I left. I was walking along when I heard him yell "hey LaMountain!" And I turned and said "yeah thanks a lot for leaving me alone to carry on our last name." We held hands and talked and laughed, and the one thing I remember him saying was "Don't forget to write the book."

on my brother's death

2009-03-29T19:47:00.008-04:00

It's a symptom of how convoluted the whole relationship had become that I have to pause before beginning this to decide between "my brother" or "my step-brother." For years, I simply skipped the "step" part of those relationships. It seemed to me after 20, 30, and now 40 years, how it all began should be irrelevant but things were said and done that made me realize perhaps not all of us felt the same way. Still, for me, he was my brother, and that didn't change even when we weren't talking, or now that he's gone.

The first time I met Brent I was 9 and he was 7. His dad was dating my mom and they sent him out into our backyard without introduction to "play with the kids." He was a chubby little kid with big ears, and I was the pack leader. I asked him what his name was and I remember being genuinely perplexed because I'd never heard the name "Brent" before. He was a farm kid and we lived in town and when it was time for them to leave, he said they had to go home to "do chores." To me, "chores" was a descriptor, followed by a list of specific duties. For him, chores were chores, and he couldn't figure out why I was asking him what chores he had to do.

Eventually our parents married, and the blending of our families was nothing Brady Bunch-like in the least. We were 4 kids who had started off life with 1 sibling, now expected to establish our places with 2 more. At the time, our age differences seemed more pronounced because we were spread out over several school grades. In reality, our birthdays all fell within about 2 years. My mom bought everything for the boys in 3s: a stack of jeans on the counter at Sears, 3 softball uniforms in different sizes. They even had their own color socks. When Steven left for college, he asked my mom to please buy him a different color because he had finally had enough of always wearing dark green.

(I spent most of today sorting through old photos, but the one I wanted I still can't find: All 3 of my brothers lined up in their softball uniforms, all with the same buzzed-off-by-my-dad haircuts. I love that photo. Now only Mark is left.)

I hope it's a sign of some sort of emotional balance that most of my memories of the past are happy ones. I know it wasn't all that way but growing up on a farm was a lot of fun. What Brent always remembered was how well we ate, and we did. Dinner was at 6 pm every night and everyone sat together at the dinner table. We had a freezer full of meat, freshly frozen or canned vegetables we grew in our own garden (and how I hated all the work that involved, shelling peas or snapping beans! Now I realize how much work my mom and dad did to keep us fed like that. Our part was nothing.) We had to mow an acre of lawn and did so based on a rotating schedule, everyone's weekly sessions posted on the bulletin board in the kitchen. We all did dishes the same way, one turn after the other, but the actual farm chores were left to the boys. We had 4-H projects and built forts in the hay mow when it was filled with straw in June, rooms connected by tunnels. There was a hole in the floor where you'd drop the straw down to bed the pigs and we'd jump through and land in the pile of loose straw, then climb the ladder and do it again.

(It took me forever to actually jump. If I thought about it at all, I'd imagine hitting the other side and freeze in one place. My brothers and the neighbor kids would race by me again and again while I sat there working up to it.)

I left home to go to college when I was 18 and Brent left not too long after that too. I think he was 16. I bet if he were a kid now, they'd find out he had learning disabilities or ADD but back then he was a "bad" kid who should try harder or whatever they came up with to put their own inabilities to understand him back on him. He spent a lot of years getting in trouble, years I was getting into similiar trouble in my own way, but not getting caught at it as much as he did.

I moved out here when I was 30, a bit closer to where he lived, and for quite a few years we were good friends. I took him in for a few days when he got beat half to death, and then lent him my blender so he could eat through his broken jaw. I went to his softball games and met his friends. No point in skipping the facts: we smoked a lot of pot together. I about bet he never stopped, too. I tend to think there are worst things someone can do than that. As time went by, he settled down and became mostly a homebody. He met his wife about the same time I met my husband, and they married a year after we did. We had our first big falling-out a few years later and barely talked for a few years, until he showed up here to tell me they were getting a divorce, about a year after mine. We became friends again. I loved going out to his place, on the land where we grew up. At night in summer, there are more stars and fireflies than you can imagine, so many that the concept of "infinite" becomes real. Still, there were grudges and issues and eventually it all fell apart again. I can understand the reasons why but I couldn't find a way to fix them.

We were still hanging out when he first got sick, about 2 years ago. His back hurt he said, so he saw a chiropracter and soaked in the bathtub. I was trying to back away from the bossy, know-it-all big sister but insisted he see a doctor. I was afraid it was his heart. I guess it took him about 6 months of worsening pain before he finally did. His heart was in great shape. He had lung cancer instead. About 6 months after that he woke up and couldn't see out of one eye and found out then it had already spread to his brain.

Since then, I saw him once and talked to him perhaps a dozen times. Our only visit was nice, went well, but he made it clear he didn't want or need me in his life anymore. Perhaps I should have pushed it. Perhaps I took the cowardly way out, avoided what was coming by telling myself I wasn't going to push my way into a dying man's life against his wishes. He had his friends, good friends, people who went out of their way to be there for him. And his way of dealing with it all was to not deal with it. He claimed he didn't think about dying much, when it's your time, it's your time. And having me around, unable to forget what was going on, was more reminder than he wanted. Still, when you're not talking to someone you know is going to die, you have to accept that one day there won't be another chance. And that day was yesterday.

He was still at home, still continuing treatments. Not well but not dying exactly yet either. They believe he had a stroke or a heart attack, which I suppose was a blessing for him in a way. The lingering last weeks of a death by cancer aren't pretty for anyone and he sidestepped that somehow. In keeping with a family tradition of dying on other people's important days (My brother Steven died a day after my dad's birthday and 2 days after my Grandma's. My dad died on my birthday. My stepdad died on my mom's birthday), he died on my nephew's wedding day.

One thing I always told him, and it's true, is that in spite of his faults and his mistakes, he was a good guy. He was always honest, always cared about other people. He was a great dad to his daughter, who is 12 now. The saddest thing I heard in all of this is she chopped her hair off because she wanted to be bald like her dad...I can't imagine the hole that's been torn in her life. He worked hard and had a lot of good friends. He didn't demand a lot out of life. He was happy keeping his house clean and swimming in his pool. He should have had a lot more time than he was given. RIP, Brent. I'll miss you.

Sara

2009-03-06T20:53:00.003-05:00

The same day I signed on to news of Michael's death, I got this caring bridge post in email. Sara is a relative of a friend of mine. I've been following her fight for a while now. For many months now, it seemed miracles do occur. Her notes were happy. She seemed to be doing well. Please take a minute to read her story, leave a note for her, and add her to whatever version of prayers you can come up with. Thanks.
www.caringbridge.org/visit/saral

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2009 01:33 PM, CST
Hello and welcome to my official website this is Sara and i have good news and bad news is my backround will soonly be changed to spring and I an feeling fine the bad news is that my braintumor came back and I am very scared well umm...Because my mom knows that my tumor is back she promised to take me somewhere fun to take my mind off of it and theres nothing much else to say so byby.

Sara Lance

there is no word for goodbye

2009-02-27T21:15:00.006-05:00

This is a beautiful poem which is even more poignant because the person who shared it on facebook not too long ago died last night. I met Michael through the online community I've been a part of for over 10 years now. One of his great gifts to us was posting the poems he'd find. As someone else said earlier today, his taste was exquisite. He was always thoughtful. Most of us received gifts of Japanese candy and tea from Michael, just sent to be kind. I lost touch with him over the past few years for a variety of reasons but always thought of him fondly. When I knew him before he volunteered at an animal shelter and spent a great deal of time caring for the dogs they had, showing them love and kindness and doing what he could to find homes for them. It's a cliche I know but it does seem true. The good do die young. Tlaa, Michael.

there is no word for goodbye

Sokoya, I said, looking through
the net of wrinkles into
wise black pools
of her eyes.

What do you say in Athabaskan
when you leave each other?
What is the word
for goodbye?

A shade of feeling rippled
the wind-tanned skin.
Ah, nothing, she said,
watching the river flash.

She looked at me close.
We just say, Tlaa. That means,
See you.
We never leave each other.
When does your mouth
say goodbye to your heart?

She touched me light
as a bluebell.
You forget when you leave us,
You're so small then.
We don't use that word.

We always think you're coming back.
but if you don't,
we'll see you some place else.
You understand.
There is no word for goodbye.

~ Mary TallMountain ~ There is no word for goodbye ~

on Veteran's Day

2008-11-11T22:25:00.007-05:00

My dad lied about his age to join the Marines when he was 17. To get away from my Grandmother, the story goes. It was only when he was dying and beginning to catch up on the stories of his life that he talked much about it, and those stories are overshadowed in my memory by the cancer. After he died, I sent for his records. He was in Korea, just after the war ended. He went AWOL once for a few days. I know he told me that story, he went home for some reason, but I can't remember why now. It's really hard to imagine my dad as a Marine, or rather as that kid who wanted to leave home and chose the Marines as a way to do so. If there is a Marine "type" my dad as I knew him didn't fit the mold, but he earned that veteran status. They sent me a flag when he died.

Our most famous family member, and the man who will always remind me that one person can make a difference, is my Great Uncle Roger. Most people know him as Roger Durbin, the man behind the WWII Memorial. Even without his bit of fame, Uncle Roger was one of my favorite family members. He had been a black sheep in his day too, and knew what I was going through back in my wilder days. I acquired my love of politics from him and my dad. I missed them both during the past election.

For years, the Memorial was his obsession. I can remember the first time he brought it up, insisting there would be a memorial in Washington one day, even though no one backed his dream at that time at all. I hope the look on my face didn't reflect what I was thinking, "If they haven't built one by now, one crazy old man from Berkey Ohio isn't going to make them." Over the years, he never gave up. He brought out the scrapbooks of the letters he wrote every chance he could, made many trips to Washington, my Aunt Marian along in her red suit. Eventually he was able to hang a drawing of the design on his wall, and you can go there today and see how it all worked out. Who wouldn't be proud to be related to him? I would have never believed it would be possible he would die before it was finished, but he did. At his funeral, one of the cousins read a letter from Bob Dole. His son and grandchildren received condolence letters from President Clinton, among others.

And now the combat veterans are my daughters' friends. Another aspect of life passed on over time.

Is the correct phrase "Happy Veteran's Day?" Seems unlikely, but either way, Dad and Uncle Roger, I'm thinking of you.

from my email

2008-11-04T23:10:00.002-05:00

adventures in canvassing

2008-11-04T21:45:00.003-05:00

I didn't do nearly as much as I intended over the past months, but win or lose, I couldn't let this election go by without doing something. Over the past 2 days, I found myself going door to door in some of the poorest parts of the city, making sure people got out to vote.

You really can't go wrong out there when you're walking around wearing Obama buttons and carrying around a stack of VOTE OBAMA! door hangers. At worst, I got an occasional look, before people realized what we were there for. At best, people actually cheered when they saw what we were doing. Yesterday my canvassing buddy got a hug from a man he'd been talking with. Considering he was here from NYC, that midwest friendliness took him by surprise. My 7th grader was off school today, so I took him along to help. He'll always remember his little part in this election, and probably the "you keep up the good work, little man!!" comments as well. It was great weather today, certainly worked in our favor. All afternoon we passed people on their way over to the polls.

My two favorite encounters were with probably the oldest person I talked to, and the youngest. Today we were targeting newly registered voters, or those who don't vote regularly, but vote Democratic when they do. We had ages on our lists, so I know one man I talked with was 78 years old. He told me he couldn't vote because the only ID he has is his grocery store card, but he did thank me for stopping because he "sure had enjoyed all the company this week." LOL!

Later we ran into a barefoot little boy, maybe 5 if that. He came up to us as we were walking along, so I asked him if he had voted yet. He gave me a serious look, shook his head, and said "No but my daddy voted for BARACK OBAMA!" For that, I had to peel my Obama sticker off my shirt and put it on his, then he asked for one of the door hangers too, so we gave him one. He politely said "thank you" and ran home with his stuff.

Thank God it worked out already in Ohio. It's sure a relief to know this early. And thank God it looks like this country has another chance. It's all over now but the speeches.

Madelyn Dunham

2008-11-03T18:27:00.002-05:00

How heartbreaking is it that Obama's grandmother died this close to the election? Still, she really has seen history being made all along. RIP, Mrs. Dunham. You did well.

the countdown begins

2008-11-03T16:56:00.002-05:00

OMG I cannot believe that within just over 24 hours, this whole thing will be decided. I finally got around to "early" voting today, went down, took a look at the line and figured forget that. They were lined up down an entire block. I'll vote tomorrow. It will be busy here too but not that busy. Instead I went over the campaign headquarters and canvassed for a few hours. While I was hanging VOTE! reminders on doorknobs, someone hung one on mine. LOL Tomorrow my son's off school, so I'm going to drag him along to help. Then I'll meet my older daughter at the polls to cast our votes together. Then back here to reload the computer incessantly until it's official and Obama is the next president of the United States!

average day of Republican campaign propoganda

2008-11-01T19:56:00.005-04:00

After weeks of walking this garbage straight from the mailbox to the trash, it occured to me to save a few of these to share. Until I did, I hadn't even noticed that it's been coming in my name now. Before it was in my daughter's name, who is still registered Independent. I voted Democrat in the primaries, are they really desperate enough to be targeting everyone now?
I swear all 3 of these came in one day. This week they're using economic fear. Last week I remember a couple of them about Ayers. Gotta love the out of context and outdated quotes, too. You'd think at some point they're notice this negative BS isn't working, beyond the voters who bought it all along anyhow. I just hope they're wasting a lot of money trying to convince people like me, whose minds have been made up from the start.

First brochure:

Second Brochure:

Third Brochure:

Nuclear Power

2008-10-30T10:08:00.007-04:00

We spend a lot of time on Lake Erie, in areas where Davis-Besse nuclear power plant is always looming on the horizon. It becomes just another part of the landscape out there. Over the past few weeks, I have made many trips to Lakeside-Marblehead, looking for Haven, and so took State Route 2 right alongside it. It's captivating up close like that, especially on a cooler day when the steam plume is very large.

(I've considered pulling over for photos of the towers themselves, or the "Don't you dare pull in here, we mean it!" signs next to the driveways, but who knows how tight security is. I'm sure "but I only wanted it for my blog!" gets a nod and a smile from whoever stops to ask what the hell you think you're doing.)

I do think in a lot of ways we've become fairly complacent about these plants in our midst. After all, they did catch the near-disastrous rusting-out mishap by a few inches of steel, before anything really really bad actually happened. (Ok only by maybe a week or so and then only by luck, but it's the thought that counts, right?)

Heard About the Near-Accident at the Ohio Nuclear Plant? I'm Not Surprised By Victor Gilinsky Sunday, April 28 , 2002 washingtonpost.com

And this week's minor little leak probably won't effect groundwater! Davis-Besse Radioactive Leak is Fixed (Hmmm, no mention of its effect of Lake Erie water seeing how the plant is right on the shoreline and all that.)

Either way, I'm still not 100% opposed to nuclear power. There's trade-offs with everything, and short of eliminating 9/10ths of the human population, and going back to fire, odds are we're going to have to do some things that have risk.

What I am opposed to is John McCain's energy policy of "clean coal" and building 45 new nuclear power plants. Now does anything scream "I'm stuck in the last century and that's OK!" more than that? Uh, John, I know in the 70s the general rule was "wind and solar will never work!!!" but you might be surprised to find out how much the technology has changed. Yeah OK, we're nowhere near ending our reliance on fossil fuels, but how about we work towards that goal, rather than away from it?

I could never get it anyhow. I remember the 70s. I remember my parents trading their big ol' Pontiac for a freaking Chevy Citation, and then trying to cram 4 teenaged kids in it. (OK so the plus side of that is then we had an excuse to avoid family outings.) I remember when MPG standards mattered and houses were built more energy efficient as well. So what has happened in the intervening years, besides well, nothing? We've known all along oil, foreign or domestic, is a FINITE RESCOURCE, correct? How come we never seem to have any concern or sense of responsibility for the world we will leave future generations? I'm the poster child for poor planning, but civilization as we know it doesn't exactly hinge upon me.

So, John, I respect that you stayed tough on not drilling the Alaskan Wildlife Refuge, although picking Little Miss Drill and Kill pretty much countered that bit of appeal. I'm not opposed to "clean coal," whether it will ever exist in those exact terms or not. Since we use coal and most likely will continue to use coal, I agree, let's put science to work minimizing the harm that's done. When it comes to nuclear power, how about you tell us all exactly where you plan on putting those 45 plants, OK? Now, before the election, so we can see how quickly voters in those areas race to the polls to vote against you.

As the anti-Obama camp becomes more shrill and angry, they miss facts about their candidate like this one. Yeah Ok I'm stupid or misguided or blindly following a messiah, whatever. I've also waited a long long time for a candidate who is moving ahead, with his eyes on the future, rather than dragging his feet in the dirt, pulling all of us backwards into a past that didn't work all that well the first time.

UK releases files on UFOs

2008-10-20T11:19:00.004-04:00

I'm not sure where exactly I stand on this topic. The secrecy has always struck me as strange. What reasons are there for not giving us the complete story? It also seems likely there is life elsewhere, and also likely more advanced civilizations may have conquered the dimension of time, to come check us out. On the other hand, I can't help but think that now that almost everyone out there is carrying around a camera or a phone with a camera, why have the sightings pretty much stopped? Then again, since so many of these encounters have us trying to shoot "them" down, maybe they stopped bothering to come back.

National Archives
Files Released on UFO Sitings
Files released on UFO sightings
Secret files on UFO sightings have been made available for the first time by the Ministry of Defence.

The documents, which can be downloaded from the National Archives website, cover the period from 1978 to 1987.

They include accounts of strange lights in the sky and unexplained objects being spotted by the public, armed forces and police officers.

One man explained in great detail his "physical and psychic contact" with green aliens since he was a child.

The writer said that one of them, called Algar, was killed in 1981 by another race of beings as he was about to make contact with the UK government.

The letter's author said he visited their bases in the Wirral and Cheshire, while his wife reported seeing a UFO shot down over Wallasey on Merseyside.

The eight released files are part of almost 200 files set to be made available over the next four years.

These documents will be available to download for free for the first month.

A spokesman for the National Archives said they were now becoming available after several requests made under the Freedom of Information Act, and also because of a "proactive move by the Ministry of Defence for an open and transparent government".

Much of the previously classified paperwork is made up of correspondence from the public sent to government officials, such as the MoD and then-prime minister Margaret Thatcher.

You can go. You are too old and too infirm for our purpose
Reported alien comment to pensioner

Another document reveals the experiences of a 78-year-old man who alleged that he met an alien beside Basingstoke Canal in Aldershot, Hampshire in 1983.
He said he went on board the craft, giving a detailed explanation of it, before being quizzed by the aliens about his age.

He was then told: "You can go. You are too old and too infirm for our purpose."

'Britain's Roswell'

Another letter, from the director of a group called the Wigan Ariel Phenomena Investigation Team, asks the MoD if it had a code of practice for dealing with an alien invasion.

A further document reveals how, on 21 February 1982, a group of customers and staff at a Tunbridge Wells pub reported an unknown object with green and red flashing lights - seen heading in the direction of Gatwick airport.

There are some reports from more official sources. The United States Air Force filed a report about two USAF policemen who saw "unusual lights outside the back gate at RAF Woodbridge" in Suffolk in December 1980.

Let me assure this House that Her Majesty's government has never been approached by people from outer space
Government briefing to House of Lords

This relates to the well-known incident of an alleged alien encounter at Rendlesham Forest, dubbed "Britain's Roswell" after the supposed contact made with aliens at Roswell in the United States.

Several drawings are visible in the files from those keen to demonstrate what they had seen.

One such sketch was made by Metropolitan Police officers, who were called out to a house in Stanmore in the London Borough of Harrow on 26 April, 1984.

Three officers spent an hour observing the object in the sky, which "moved erratically from side to side, up and down and to and fro, not venturing far from the original position".

One of the Pcs, who saw the object through binoculars, described it as "circular in the middle with what appeared to be a dome on top and underneath" with different coloured lights.

Common explanations

Visitors to the National Archives site will also find a videocast from Nick Pope, a British UFO specialist.

Mr Pope picked out one incident where a UFO was spotted over central London.

"This is a very interesting illustration that, actually, UFOs are seen in built-up areas. People have this idea they're seen in desolate, rural places.

"There's a sighting actually on Waterloo bridge, when a number of witnesses actually stopped to look at this UFO that was seen over the Thames."

Mr Pope said the most common explanation for UFOs were aircraft lights, bright stars and planets, satellites, meteors, or airships.

A detailed briefing is available within the files, which was prepared by the MoD for Lord Strabolgi, then government chief whip, for a debate on UFOs in the House of Lords in January 1979.

The briefing said that "there is nothing to indicate that UFOlogy is anything but claptrap" and that the idea of an "inter-governmental conspiracy of silence" was "the most astonishing and the most flattering claim of all".

Please turn on JavaScript. Media requires JavaScript to play.

Newsnight's report on UFO sightings - and crop circles The briefing goes on to say: "Let me assure this House that Her Majesty's government has never been approached by people from outer space."

Also available on the website is a podcast from Dr David Clarke, an expert in UFO history, discussing the files.

Dr Clarke, who is a lecturer at Sheffield Hallam University, told the BBC's Radio 4 Today programme that conspiracy theories about aliens are "very difficult to disprove".

He said: "I doubt the disclosure of these files will convince those who believe there is an official cover-up.

"Inevitably, some have already dismissed this release as a whitewash. For them the 'truth' still remains out there, hidden no doubt in more above top secret files hidden somewhere else."

Recruiting Republicans

2008-10-20T10:37:00.004-04:00

Much to my chagrin, my 20 year old didn't vote in the primary. A little thing like an ice storm kept her from making the drive back here from where she goes to school (25 minutes away.) I kept telling her to change her address but she wants to vote here.

Anyhow, as a result she's undeclared/independent. (In Ohio you declare a party to vote in a primary. I've skipped doing so a few times, usually when I'm annoyed with the Dems. It does seem to increase the amount of election mail I got on both sides.) As a result of that, I've had the misfortune of seeing a whole lot of McCain propaganda show up in my mailbox. ALL of it has been attacks on Obama, nothing at all explaining the benefits of voting for a McCain/Palin ticket. I told her she was getting a lot of R mail. Her response was "well that isn't happening." Everything that's shown up here has been walked directly from the mailbox to the trash.

So, just now a car pulled into my driveway and 2 nice young men in their early 20s came to my door, holding clipboards. I actually assumed they were Jehovah's Witnesses. They haven't been around since they asked my (then) husband if he'd read the Bible and he asked them if they'd read a physics textbook. But no! They asked for Sarah. I explained she's in Bowling Green, and they said they were with the Lucas County Republican Party. I laughed and assured them she is NOT a Republican. I admire their willingness to get out and work for their party but one thing I am proud of is raising liberals. I indoctrinate them young and often. Haha

Joe the Plumber

2008-10-16T22:55:00.000-04:00

All I can think throughout this whole surreal Joe the Plumber routine is that Andy Warhol was an absolute genius. And Joe's 15 minutes should be about up.
Here's what was on my igoogle screen just now. I literally laughed out loud.

Tax Advice for ‘Joe the Plumber’
New York Times - all 2865 related »

You'd almost feel sorry for the guy, having his dirty laundry hung out like this, over nothing more than being home when a certain presidential candidate turned off for a walk down his block. Still he's been playing it. He's answered every call and showed up for every interview. No one in this day and age should be surprised at how little privacy any of us have.

I was skeptical about the story to begin with. A 34 year old man living with his dad in a modest Holland neighborhood is going to buy the plumbing business where he works? I don't believe there was anything sinister about his statement. In his mind it was a hypothetical, a little white lie that wouldn't have left his street if it weren't for Obama's "share the wealth" reply. He's a typical "Joe Six Pack" spouting off the party lines, unable to actually see the "tax increase for big business" doesn't apply to him and never will.

McCain can't win for losing though. His poster child is a tax cheat, a liar, and isn't even a plumber at all.

the funny thing about A.C.O.R.N.

2008-10-16T08:52:00.000-04:00

...is I actually worked for them when I lived in Denver, 1982-83. Their "help wanted" ad was worded to appeal to "change the world!" liberals like me, so off I went. As it turned out, what they needed were canvassers, people to go door to door to get signatures on something or another but mostly to garner donations. That's one life experience that was certainly interesting but I never wanted to do again.

I can't remember how long I lasted, I want to say around 6 months, through fall and winter. I remember Christmastime, seeing everyone's trees and decorations. It doesn't matter how insincere you are, everyone beams if you compliment them on their lovely tree. It's really a bizarre thing to do, knocking on people's doors each evening, standing around in their living rooms while they get their checkbooks. Those were certainly slightly more innocent times. Can you imagine sending 20-something women out alone at night now, without even a cell phone?

Our workday started around 2, when we'd meet at the office. From there, we'd carpool out to whatever neighborhood we were working in, and find a place to have a late lunch. I ended up dining at a whole range of "all you can eat" buffets I might have otherwise missed. As I recall, our "hit the streets" workday started at 4 or 5, and lasted until 9 or so? Then back to the office to count our take, and compare notes from the day.

I'm not sure how I lasted even as long as I did, but it was mostly the people I worked with. We had fun: at diners, on the streets, at parties, at bars on payday. The office was across the street from Just Another Bar. We called it Just About A Bar, and many a night was spent there shooting pool. I want to say they also had shuffleboard but maybe I've meshed my dive bar memories into one generic tavern. One night I snuck off with my cute-boy-crush, Donny, to have a quiet beer on our own. We chose The New Yorker on Colfax because of its classy flashing neon martini glass and only later found out it was one of the main "pimp and hooker" bars in that area. One of the worst cheap drinking experiences I've had was one Saturday afternoon at Rick and Liz's when we tossed all our money together for a gallon of vodka and mixed it with generic powdered lemonade mix. Conversely the only time I was ever even near the Brown Hotel was when one girl's mom came to town and took us to lunch. She was a state senator somewhere, I think Maine, so what was her 19 year old daughter doing on the other side of the country, tromping door to door?

Towards the end we started taking my car out to the "turf," which became my downfall. Wayne and I would race through our streets as fast as possible, make quota, then head for a bar. When you get to the point you can't face one more door slammed in your face, you're done. It's just a matter of which day you actually walk back and say no more. I have no idea what happened to anyone. I can't remember enough full names to even stalk them via google. When I think back to people in my past, I mostly just hope that some of them remained liberals.

We were fairly removed from the "community organizer" aspect of the organization there. We had a couple of COs, but we didn't see much of them. Rumor was they were paid next to nothing at all. They were involved in fighting utility rate increases, and when we'd canvas in lower income neighborhoods we'd get a lot more support and hear stories about work that had been done to help people organize block watches or get people involved in other ways. As far as I know, Denver wasn't involved in the squatting campaigns at that time. Still, say what you want, there's a certain logic in allowing people who have no homes to live in those that are abandoned anyhow. Remember this was the early 80s, not especially good economic times. I can't help but wonder if we'll see that again sometime soon, middle class people left on the streets by the next Great Depression moving into suburban homes sitting empty because of foreclosure?

ACORN's apparently claimed the people acquiring fraudulent voter registrations weren't paid by the piece? I have no idea how things are done now but I know back then we weren't paid by donation but we did have to make a quota each night. It wasn't an unreasonable amount, and given how many people will just toss money out the door if you knock and give a speech, most nights we all managed to make it. Still if that's still the case, you can bet there were some people sitting in bars, filling out a stack of paperwork to turn in at the end of the day. I don't believe the issues with voter registrations will effect this election all that much one way or another. I suppose it will give some conservatives a scab to pick or a reason to cry in their beers over the next 4 years, when Obama wins this election by a landslide, and they hope to find an excuse.

One good thing about Palin

2008-10-13T16:51:00.001-04:00

...is she's a never-ending source of laughs. This one had me in tears.

That One!

2008-10-08T09:44:00.000-04:00

You gotta love how fast this stuff shows up.

That One!

Yes, John, we can see how much you dislike Obama. I can certainly understand how frustrating it is to believe someone is completely wrong for the country when the majority of others see it differently. I've felt that way during the last 2 elections. Still, shoving your wife over to shake hands so you don't have to comes across petulant and childish.

There's any number of points from last night's debate that stood out. If I had the chance to ask one little tiny question though, what I really want to know is when you said we can't afford to have "on the job training" when it comes to national security, did you forget who you picked for VP?

this whole William Ayers thing

2008-10-06T19:35:00.001-04:00

I've seen all of Palin's latest "campaign tactics" from any number of Chicken Little hate and fear mongers who have been screaming "terrorist connections!!" "hates America!!" to anyone who would listen for months. I'm sure they're beside themselves with joy that their cause has been given a "legitimate" voice.

Too bad for them that anyone who is taking a critical look at the facts can see what's going on here. Take Bill Ayers, for example. Perhaps there's been minimal association between him and Obama, from being from the same place more than anything else. Ayers made a campaign contribution too!!! Ooooooohh!! Beyond that, though, so what?! Ayers is a respected education professor. He has never been convicted of any crime. OK, so he's made some not-so-nice statements about a time when a whole lot of not-so-nice things were going on. Where's all the FREEDOM OF SPEECH rhetoric the conservatives throw out when you dare to question, say Ann Coulter's death to all liberal spiels? Yeah so he's unrepentant, and accordingly, Obama's a terrorist!? What?! It would be laughable if they weren't serious. When has any other candidate for any other office been made to be responsible for every single thing uttered by every single person they've associated with at all?

And McCain/Palin (and their rabid supporters) apparently can't figure out why this isn't working to win votes. Every single time they take some tiny bit of information and blow it completely out of proportion, while leaping up and down and pointing and spitting in hysteria, all they do is prove they have nothing legitimate against Obama. Obama needs to respond as minimally as possible and then let it go. He does his campaign no favors by getting down in the mud with these pigs, wearing lipstick or not.

Defenders of Wildlife takes on Palin

2008-10-06T09:30:00.000-04:00

In case you've missed it:

"Aerial killing of wolves may not be your standard national election issue, but it is one that helps illuminate an important part of Sarah Palin's character," said President of Defenders of Wildlife Action Fund Rodger Schlickeisen. "We believe voters deserve to know about her support for this brutal practice, and we are confident the issue can move votes as we head into the home stretch of this campaign."

Alaska's aerial wolf killing program allows private citizens with licenses to fly in private planes and shoot wolves from the air or chase them to exhaustion before landing and shooting them point blank. The gunners then keep the pelts which they're allowed to sell for profit. The program also targets grizzly and black bears. The ad highlights Palin's shocking proposal of a $150 bounty to be given to aerial hunters in exchange for each severed left foreleg of a killed wolf.

"When John McCain picked the notoriously anti-environmental Sarah Palin as his running mate, he abdicated his once-admirable - if erratic - support for pro-environmental policies and settled once and for all the question of which ticket should be trusted with the care of our natural resources," concluded Schlickeisen

"Scientists and wildlife experts have consistently condemned Governor Palin's aerial wolf killing program, yet she continues to ignore sound science and promote the program," continued Schlickeisen. "Her biased approach is unnervingly familiar and is the last thing we need after eight years of President Bush's ideologically-driven approach to the stewardship of our air, land, water and wildlife, an approach that not only ignored government scientists' findings but often altered them in the public record. Palin seems quite at home with that approach."

Marblehead Lighthouse

2008-09-28T20:15:00.000-04:00

As mentioned in my rescue blog, twice this past week I've ended up at Marblehead Lighthouse, as well as the rest of the town of Marblehead. I've been there 3 or 4 times over the years and have yet to make it during a time when we could climb the lighthouse and look out over the lake. Without that aspect of the experience, there's not much to it. According to the website, it's the most photographed landmark on Lake Erie, and since I'm always happy to be a cliche, I dutifully lined the kids up and took a couple of pictures. They were especially impressed you can see Cedar Point across the bay, so we fed quarters into the big binocular-things (hey I tried to find a proper name on google with no luck) in the hopes of focusing in on someone screaming on a roller coaster. Judging from how many people were coming and going while I was there, it's a popular park. I suppose the romantic notion of lighthouses is a bigger draw than hiking 5 miles down a rocky beach hoping to see an eagle. It's definitely worth seeing though. The lake there is especially pretty as well.

I've probably mentioned it before and most assuredly will mention it again but I love Lake Erie. Just everything about it! The parks, the birds, the wildlife, the beaches. I'm not sure why I live so far "inland" but it's a situation I plan to remedy eventually. I have every intention of spending my golden (just around the corner) years in a ratty camper in some dive campground along the lake; just me, my coffee cup, a library card, and a couple of mean chihuahuas.

for all of us Harry Potter fans

2008-09-20T23:58:00.001-04:00

(If you haven't read the books, you won't get it. If you have, you'll laugh.)

from Post Secret

Great anti-Palin campaign tactic

2008-09-20T09:17:00.000-04:00

This is classic. LOL

from my email:
-------
A particularly appealing guerilla tactic, dutifully forwarded from my brother. LOL!

Dear Friends:
>
> We may have thought we wanted a woman on a national political ticket, but the joke has really been on us, hasn't it? Are you as sick in your stomach as I am at the thought of Sarah Palin as Vice President of the United States ?
>
> Since Palin gave her speech accepting the Republican nomination for the Vice Presidency, Barack Obama's campaign has raised over $10 million dollars. Some of you may already be supporting the Obama campaign financially; others of you may still be a little honked off over the primaries. None of you, however, can be happy with Palin's selection, especially on her positions on women's issues. So, if you feel you can't support the Obama campaign financially, may I suggest the following fiendishly brilliant alternative?
>
> Make a donation to Planned Parenthood. In Sarah Palin's name. And here's the good part: when you make a donation to PP in her name, they'll send her a card telling her that the donation has been made in her honor. Here's the link to the Planned Parenthood website:
>
> http://www.plannedparenthood.org/

(From there, click on "Donate" to "Donate Online" to "Honorary or Memorial donations" to find the site that takes "in honor of" donations.)
>
> You'll need to fill in the address to let PP know where to send the "in Sarah Palin's honor" card. I suggest you use the address for the McCain campaign headquarters, which is:
>
> McCain for President
> 1235 S. Clark Street
> 1st Floor
> Arlington , VA 22202
>
> Feel free to send this along to all your friends and urge them to do the same.

Fools and Politics

2008-09-19T11:58:00.000-04:00

You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can not fool all of the people all of the time. -Abraham Lincoln, (attributed)

You can fool some of the people all the time, and those are the ones you want to concentrate on.
-George W.Bush

I just happened across the second quote while verifying the first. If that isn't the slogan of the McCain/Palin campaign, I don't know what is.

Now Palin's husband won't testify in trooper inquiry. What a great tactic, really. "Well, because some Democrats said she is probably guilty, we cannot get a fair investigation and so we won't have one at all! Nyah nyah nyah!" You have to wonder if they came up with it before they considered her for VP, or just winged it after the fact. Who cares what really went on! We can stonewall the whole investigation until after the elections! All we have to do is blame the Dems, knowing there's enough blind haters out there, we can pull it off!

What a complete and utter joke the Rs campaign has become. Toss enough mud and blow enough smoke and at least half of the country won't even bother to follow the story line, and just BAA their way all to the polls like sheep. I do believe there are intelligent Rs out there who have to see through this crap as well, but don't care as long as it works.

In Tarot, the Fool is a light-hearted card, representing beginnings and starting anew. That's sure as hell not going to be the case with a McCain/Palin administration. I have spent 8 years mumbling or yelling I told you so!!! to the voters who blindly followed Bush, and then seemed shocked at the outcome. It cannot happen again.

September 11

2008-09-11T19:40:00.000-04:00

Nearly every flag I saw today was at half-mast. I always twitch a bit at incorrect flag etiquette so that small detail stood out. I can't think of another holiday when everyone remembers to honor our flag.

We all have our small personal memories, juxtaposed against the nearly universal impressions we all share. One image stands out for me: going to my daughter's soccer game that first Saturday, everyone still reeling from shock and pain, yet trying to maintain some normalcy for the children. In the middle of the soccer fields, one coach had brought the flag from his home, and stuck the flag pole into the ground next to his lawn chair. It flew in the wind as the kids played their games, one small reminder that nothing would ever be the same again.

A few weeks before we were attacked, I took my daughter to "interview" my 80 year old great aunt about her memories of WWII. When she talked about Pearl Harbor, her eyes filled with tears. I've always imagined that's the way we will be, always one question away from being taken back to exactly how we felt when we watched it unfold.

My heart goes out to everyone who lost someone they loved on that horrible day. And my heart goes out to all of us too, for what we lost then as well.

Can't Cry Hard Enough

2008-09-11T19:33:00.000-04:00

If you've never seen this, it is beautiful and heartbreaking.

Can't Cry Hard Enough

The artist created it during those first horror-filled days. He sent it to 25 people, with no idea it would eventually be seen by millions.

by Jason Powers

Large Haldron Collider

2008-09-09T19:02:00.001-04:00

Well they're firing this thing up tomorrow.

Large Hadron Collider.

So, Kiss the World Goodbye! haha Just kidding.

I think it's cool as hell. I'll be the first to admit I'm generally pretty lost when it comes to anything to do with physics or astronomy, once you move out of the realm of red, yellow, blue or white stars. I've been slowly working my way through

and thanks to Bryson, I have begun to understand some aspects more clearly. Still I'd most certainly fail a high school physics test, even if you left out the formulas.

That doesn't stop me from being completely in awe of space in a way I can't quite put into words. There is a reason that god and "heaven" are so oftentimes believed to be in the stars. I also believe that the answers to the biggest gaps in what we know about the universe will come once we find a way to conquer the dimension of time. Maybe this is how they will find those answers. It is plausible they will replicate a "Big Bang" and come up with a clearer understanding of how the universe began. (Hopefully before Palin starts teaching "creation science" in schools, supported by people who can't understand that all science is theory, which is not the same as religion.) (Oops political sidetrack there.)

To quote my ex, the physicist, "these researchers are like priests in the science. And we are just bunch of sinners trying to do some laser imaging."

I just hope that whatever they find out, they put it in terms I can understand. Maybe Bill Bryson can explain it.

Art In the Wild

2008-09-06T23:42:00.000-04:00

On our way back from White Star Quarry after watching my son take his SCUBA certification testing, my daughter and I drove through the small town of Gibsonburg, Ohio (pop. about 2500.)

You wouldn't expect all that much from a town that size so I did a double take when I noticed a group of sculptures alongside a small lake in the middle of town. We decided to turn around and see what it was about. The few I'd noticed from the road lead to more and more, maybe 2 dozen encircling the lake, all by different artists. It was like happening upon a small roadside museum, just...there, with no explanation at all. In this little War Memorial Park in this tiny town. It was amazing and very cool.

Apparently it started a few years ago when one local artist was asked to display more of his work, and he invited others and it's gone on since then. I'm not sure it would be worth making a long drive but if you're out that way at all, it's definitely worth stopping to see. I'm really glad we came across it.
Small Town, Big Art

County Fairs

2008-09-04T22:17:00.001-04:00

We went to the Fulton County Fair on Sunday. The fair is one of the truly great things about the rural area where I spent my childhood. That there are basically no other great things is why I don't live there now.

Still, the website doesn't do it justice. This is a true country fair. They have buildings packed full of livestock, horse shows, a building full of floral displays, needlepoint and quilts, arts and crafts, another full of homegrown fruits and vegetables. It's a tradition there to gather up the best of whatever it is you do best, and enter it in the fair.

I drag my kids from place to place, exclaiming at all the different varieties of chickens (as though we've never seen them before), wondering how we can ever eat a turkey after staring at them eye to eye (we get over that by November.) We pet bunnies, and horses. (Watch their ears! That one will bite!) Every time we walk through the goat and sheep barn, I tell my son the story AGAIN about when he was in his stroller, and got scared half to death by a big loud BAA!! in his face by a sheep, and how he wouldn't go back in that building for the next few years.

My kids of course go to ride rides. Unfortunately they're at an awkward age now, too big for the little kids' rides, but with a mother who is too neurotic to let them ride most of the big rides. (Hello, they put them up yesterday?! All it's going to take is one loose bolt and that flying thing will be flying right on down the midway!) So they mostly end up riding the bumper cars over and over.

I am a grown-up so of course I go for the food. We have a routine. First, we go to the french fry booth. Not all the others that offer fries but rather THE booth, the same one in the same place with the same fries (maybe even the same grease) in a paper cup I have been eating every year since I can remember. Next to that is the Dairy Barn for milk shakes and THEN to the Beef Farmers' Booth for either a roast beef or rib eye sandwich. (Sympathy for steers rarely enters into the equation. Steers are big and rather un-cute, plus when they're in their stalls all you see is their butts.) Before we leave, we get a box of fresh donuts from the Band Boosters under the Grandstands. The Grange people also grill up the best chicken halves anywhere so I usually grab one of those to go, too.

When we were kids, we all did 4-H. I started off taking sewing??? All I can come up with is my girl cousins did it, so I did too. Once. Then we had lambs. You care for your lamb all summer, feed it, keep records of the expenses involved. Before the fair, someone comes and shears it of its wool. Then you care for it all week at the fair and take it to the required lamb show. Then at the end of the week everyone takes their sheep (and other livestock) to the jr fair auction where various businesses pay higher than market price for your 4-H project. Afterwards you say goodbye to your little friends, knowing they're headed off to become someone's dinner, and collect a check. Farm kids are a tough lot.

Bold Move. Won't Work

2008-08-29T13:07:00.001-04:00

All of the "WHO?" and "oh so now we don't care about 'inexperience?'" comments aside, one small thing McCain apparently missed when he chose Sarah Palin as his running mate is that many conservative women don't particularly like mothers who work outside of the home, especially mothers of infants. Much less the mother of a special needs' infant. Don't take my word on it, find a "working mom vs stay at home mom" discussion anywhere on the internet. And then stand back. Those women are scary. He'll gain some votes sure, rabid pro-lifers or Hillary supporters who were voting straight gender, but I bet there will be just as many women who stay home entirely rather than support a women they perceive as not caring for her own child.

thoughts on Barack Obama

2008-08-28T23:24:00.000-04:00

The first time Obama landed on my radar was when I read his comments on Hurricane Katrina. I thought my god, this is someone who truly gets it. From there on in, I kept holding my breath in a sense, waiting for his image to tarnish, to find out he was as much of a game player as most everyone else in politics.
Instead, here we are. During his acceptance speech I was reminded again this is about leadership, and inspiration. This is about someone who will make us believe in ourselves and our country once again. We are at a crossroads. I truly believe this could be one of those turning points in history, that we are on the brink of great change.
Let's hope.

Statement of Senator Barack Obama on Hurricane Katrina Relief Efforts
Tuesday, September 6, 2005

I just got back from a trip to Houston with former Presidents Clinton and Bush. And as we wandered through the crowd, we heard in very intimate terms the heart-wrenching stories that all of us have witnessed from a distance over the past several days: mothers separated from babies, adults mourning the loss of elderly parents, descriptions of the heat and filth and fear of the Superdome and the Convention Center.
There was an overriding sense of relief, for the officials in Houston have done an outstanding job of creating a clean and stable place for these families in the short-term. But a conversation I had with one woman captured the realities that are settling into these families as they face the future.

She told me "We had nothing before the hurricane. Now we got less than nothing."

We had nothing before the hurricane. Now we got less than nothing.

In the coming weeks, as the images of the immediate crisis fade and this chamber becomes consumed with other matters, we will be hearing a lot about lessons learned and steps to be taken. I will be among those voices calling for action.

In the most immediate term, we will have to assure that the efforts at evacuating families from the affected states proceeds - that these Americans are fed, clothed, housed, and provided with the immediate care and medicine that they need. We're going to have to make sure that we cut through red tape. I can say from personal experience how frustrating, how unconscionable it is, that it has been so difficult to get medical supplies to those in need quickly enough. We should make certain that any impediments that may continue to exist in preventing relief efforts from moving rapidly are eliminated.

Once we stabilize the situation, this country will face an enormous challenge in providing stability for displaced families over the months and years that it will take to rebuild. Already, the state of Illinois has committed to accepting 10,000 families that are displaced. There are stories in Illinois as there are everywhere of churches, mosques, synagogues and individual families welcoming people with open arms and no strings attached. Indeed, if there's any bright light that has come out of this disaster, it's the degree to which ordinary Americans have responded with speed and determination even as their government has responded with unconscionable ineptitude.

Which brings me to the next point. Once the situation is stable, once families are settled - at least for the short term - once children are reunited with their parents and enrolled in schools and the wounds have healed, we're gonna have to do some hard thinking about how we could have failed our fellow citizens so badly, and how we will prevent such a failure from ever occurring again.

It is not politics to insist that we have an independent commission to examine these issues. Indeed, one of the heartening things about this crisis has been the degree to which the outrage has come from across the political spectrum; across races; across incomes. The degree to which the American people sense that we can and must do better, and a recognition that if we cannot cope with a crisis that has been predicted for decades - a crisis in which we're given four or five days notice - how can we ever hope to respond to a serious terrorist attack in a major American city in which there is no notice, and in which the death toll and panic and disruptions may be far greater?

Which brings me to my final point. There's been much attention in the press about the fact that those who were left behind in New Orleans were disproportionately poor and African American. I've said publicly that I do not subscribe to the notion that the painfully slow response of FEMA and the Department of Homeland Security was racially-based. The ineptitude was colorblind.

But what must be said is that whoever was in charge of planning and preparing for the worst case scenario appeared to assume that every American has the capacity to load up their family in an SUV, fill it up with $100 worth of gasoline, stick some bottled water in the trunk, and use a credit card to check in to a hotel on safe ground. I see no evidence of active malice, but I see a continuation of passive indifference on the part of our government towards the least of these.

And so I hope that out of this crisis we all begin to reflect - Democrat and Republican - on not only our individual responsibilities to ourselves and our families, but to our mutual responsibilities to our fellow Americans. I hope we realize that the people of New Orleans weren't just abandoned during the Hurricane. They were abandoned long ago - to murder and mayhem in their streets; to substandard schools; to dilapidated housing; to inadequate health care; to a pervasive sense of hopelessness.

That is the deeper shame of this past week - that it has taken a crisis like this one to awaken us to the great divide that continues to fester in our midst. That's what all Americans are truly ashamed about, and the fact that we're ashamed about it is a good sign. The fact that all of us - black, white, rich, poor, Republican, Democrat - don't like to see such a reflection of this country we love, tells me that the American people have better instincts and a broader heart than our current politics would indicate.

We had nothing before the Hurricane. Now we have even less.

I hope that we all take the time to ponder the truth of that message.

On Getting Old

2008-08-16T00:37:00.000-04:00

With the way time speeds up the older I get, I've always suspected this is exactly how it goes:

"I don't feel old yet," Mrs. Fowler said yesterday, her 108th birthday.

"Should I feel old? I was 40, and then I was 108."

Happy Birthday, Mrs. Fowler, and many happy returns.

Local Woman toasts 108th year

Prayers and Perspective

2008-08-14T22:08:00.000-04:00

As is often the way with the internet, we become involved in people's lives who we otherwise wouldn't have known. Sara is the niece of someone I originally "met" online, and later in person. She's a little girl, only a few months older than my youngest, who is battling brain cancer.

Thanks to The Caring Bridge 100s if not 1000s of people have been following her progress and offering our thoughts and prayers. Her story is all here, I don't need to repeat it. Sara L Tomorrow she will be undergoing surgery in what is clearly a risky last chance effort to save her life.

Of course anything that can be said here sounds trite. It's heartbreaking, it really is. No one should have to go through this, especially a child. "Meeting" Sara has certainly put my petty complaints and problems into perspective. Anything in my life certainly pales in comparison to this little girl's battles.

If you're so inclined perhaps you can send out a prayer or a good thought tomorrow, and in the days and weeks to come. Thanks.

Edwards: What a Jerk

2008-08-09T00:16:00.000-04:00

We can all try for the familiar refrain: his personal life has no bearing on his ability to do his job, what goes on with his marriage is between him and his wife. Sure, why not. Let's face the facts though, if we heard this story about anyone, we'd say "what an asshole."

I never cared one way or another about Bill's Oval Office blow job. Since I did end up hearing all about it, my reaction was "what a pig." I still thought he was a great president, just one who was also a pig. And I quite honestly lost some respect for Hillary because she didn't toss his stuff out on the White House lawn. At least as a symbolic gesture.

Still the Edwards story just strikes a different chord. The image they've presented, all that fresh-faced, hand holding (apparently fake) happiness. And there's no way to overlook Elizabeth's battling cancer. No matter what the timing of the affair and his telling her was or is, how shitty is it that on top of fighting for her life, she had to wake up every day wondering when this story would hit. And we won't even get into the whole "love child" angle. (What a stupid term. Is this the 60s?) Or the assistant who is really the father because wouldn't that be an amazing coincidence, or will anyone believe whatever we're told the DNA does or doesn't show, not that it's any of our business anyhow.

The worst of it all though is the man continued to run for President! If he'd managed to get the nomination, and this came out now?! Or if he was already signed up as VP? Can you imagine the fall-out? Clinton weathered the storm because he was already president and he was doing a good job. This story would have been the kiss of death to a presidential campaign in a race as tight as this one. He had to KNOW sooner or later the shit was going to hit the fan. And still he kept trying. We all know politicians and EGO go hand in hand but there's a fine line, John, and you tromped right across it.

On the plus side, thanks to the Enquirer (go figure), the timing minimizes the potential damage. And when all the finger pointing starts, it will be a great lead-in to remind any Republicans who want to play Holier than Thou about their own candidate's shaky marital history.

The wife John McCain callously left behind

Like it or not, these days politicians are akin to celebrities, and their lives are scrutinized every bit as much. Maybe that's our loss, no doubt we lose potential leaders who aren't willing to toss themselves under the microscope. It certainly shouldn't come as a surprise though that your secrets will come out. If you don't like the rules, then don't play the game. Don't be stupid enough to go full speed ahead when down the road your doing so will torpedo your entire party's chances at a win. What a freaking jerk.

Paris Hilton one-ups McCain

2008-08-05T22:22:00.000-04:00

I dislike Paris Hilton as much as the next person (if they've even heard of her) but credit where credit's due. This is funny as hell. Childish of me perhaps but no worse than what McCain himself is pulling. The original "celebrity" ad was a pitiful attempt. I do have an equal opportunity sense of humor though. I also got a chuckle out of McCain's passing out tire gauges on the campaign trail. And YES I do understand Obama's original point.

See more Paris Hilton videos at Funny or Die

Something Whimsical

2008-07-30T20:44:00.000-04:00

I don't know why it's here, or who created it. It sits alongside a fairly busy, yet rural road (Crissey Rd north of Angola.) I smile every time I see it. How could you not? Today I finally brought a camera along and stopped to take pictures. It's on a vacant corner lot, far enough from any of the nearby houses it's hard to tell who owns it. I figure it's not all that different than planting flowers, or adding a decorative fence, or even a concrete goose with clothes to your yard. They built it because they enjoyed doing so and hoped it might brighten the day of the people driving by.

It started with the big tree stump, which became a "house," and the other details came long over time. It's far enough back from the road I didn't want to walk up too closely to get pictures but now that I think about it, perhaps next time I'll go leave a note in the mailbox and thank them.

not covered under warranty

2008-07-27T18:12:00.000-04:00

This story made me laugh to begin with, just the absurdity of it making international news. "Drunk guy blasts his mower with a sawed-off shotgun! Says it's his yard and his mower, so fuck off!" I'm sure anyone who's battled to get a mower started on a hot day can relate on some level. Still what made me laugh out loud is the comment about his actions voiding the warranty. No!? Shotgun blasts aren't covered?! Who knew?! hahaha

US man charged for shooting mower
Witnesses told police Mr Walendowski appeared to have been drinking
A 56-year-old man from the Midwestern US state of Wisconsin has been arrested after shooting his lawn mower in his garden because it would not start.

Keith Walendowski was charged by police in Milwaukee with disorderly conduct and possession of a sawn-off shotgun.

He could face a fine of up to $11,000 and a maximum prison sentence of six-and-a-half years if convicted.

Police officers said Mr Walendowski had told them: "It's my lawn mower and my yard, so I can shoot it if I want."

Police found the shotgun, a handgun and a stungun, as well as ammunition, when they detained Mr Walendowski in the basement of his house.

Witnesses told police that he appeared to have been drinking.

The lawn mower was found sitting outside Mr Walendowski's house, which he shares with his mother, with the rubbish on Friday.

A local retailer said that Mr Walendowski might now have difficulty getting his lawn mower repaired.

"Anything not factory recommended would void the warranty," said Dick Wagner, of Wagner's Garden Mart in Milwaukee.

Last minute late night post: Toledo on AOL welcome screen

2008-07-26T00:10:00.001-04:00

So I see this headline on my way to bed, and my first thought is "it's probably best not to joke with someone who is holding a taser." Then I click and it's freaking Toledo! Gads, do we ever get any good publicity?? Oh and the opinion poll shows "he should sue" as taking a big lead over the other 2 options. When people are supporting someone's right to sue, you know there's a problem.

Grandpa Sues Over Tasering
Says Comment to Guard Was a Joke

CBS Newsposted: 3 HOURS 3 MINUTES AGO
(July 25) - A grandfather and pastor is suing a Toledo, Ohio, hospital after being Tasered and beaten by security guards at the facility.
Much of the incident was caught by surveillance cameras.
Use of Tasers Questioned
CBSNews.com
A pastor has filed suit against a Toledo, Ohio, hospital after being Tasered and beaten by security guards at the facility. Much of last year's incident outside St. Vincent Mercy Hospital was recorded on video.
Al Poisson, 67, says he was visiting a friend in St. Vincent Mercy Medical Center a year ago and was in a very good mood when he came upon a glum-looking guard and joked with him.
"I said (to the guard), 'Are you happy today?' Poisson told "Early Show" co-anchor Harry Smith Friday. "He said, 'Yeah.' I said, 'Well, you oughta tell your face!' "
Poisson added that, "It went downhill from there" and turned into an "atrocious, unbelievable situation, to say the least."
The guards wound up taking Poisson outside the building, where they used a Taser and/or stun gun on him, dropping him to his knees and, he says, beat, kicked and "manhandled" him when he was down.
It all happened in front of Poisson's son and Poisson's 6-year-old grandson.
The Web site of CBS affiliate WTOL-TV in Toledo cites Poisson's lawsuit as claiming Poisson's son pleaded with the guards to stop because Poisson has a bad heart.
The Web site also says a police report quotes the security guards as asserting that Poisson provoked them and that, once outside, Poisson elbowed one guard and tried to pull his hair while on the ground.
The guards called Toledo police and had Poisson arrested for alleged assault, but those charges have since been dropped.
Poisson says he used to go to St. Vincent's regularly to pray with patients, but no longer can cope with doing that. He also says he's had to give up his duties at a local soup kitchen that's since closed.

Poisson is seeking punitive damages of an unspecified amount, along with damages for pain, suffering, medical expenses and lost income. The lawsuit also says the hospital doesn't train its security personnel properly.
St. Vincent's issued a statement saying, "According to our policy regarding physical aggression, the use of a Taser is warranted if someone attempts to physically attack a staff member, patient or visitor. We conducted an internal review of this incident that determined the response to the aggression was appropriate."
"That's not true at all," Poisson responded to Smith when the statement was read.
Copyright 2008, CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Copyright 2008, CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved.
2008-07-25 17:46:49

Crane Creek (no longer a) State Park

2008-07-22T18:55:00.000-04:00

"Sunset at Crane Creek," courtesy of Sally Wehner, Sally's Photostream

Living in rural northwest Ohio, we mostly swam in ponds, pools, and at some of the smaller lakes in Michigan, where we'd spend the day at family cottages. Those were magical times: jumping off the docks, taking peaceful rides on a pontoon boat, running across rough wood floors in our sandy bare feet. For a child who grew up with so little water in her life, there's no explaining my love for it now. I understand the draw of other landscapes: the majesty and beauty of mountains, the quiet stillness of forests, the beauty of great architecture, or the thrill of walking through the world's grand cities, but for me, I would pass on it all to be on an ocean beach. As a rather landlocked Ohioan, what I have instead is Lake Erie.

From the first time I spent a day at Crane Creek State Park, I was smitten. For 30 years, in spite of the fact it was never a convenient trip from the places we lived, it was a regular destination for summer days. In the early days we swam on the smaller, less well maintained beach, with Davis-Besse nuclear power plant lurking along the horizon. We had so much fun, scouring the beach for trinkets, creating monuments from driftwood.

Later they turned that beach over to the birds, so we would walk along the shore there after a day in the sun, or take the dogs to run and swim.

We had picnics and parties on the larger, busier beach. The seagulls were bold there, bold enough they would sometimes steal food right off hot grills. That beach had breakers, so if the wind was right, we could play in big waves. Most of the time though it was a peaceful place to sit and read a summer novel, watch boats and birds go by, and then watch the sun set from the same spot on the beach where the first photo here was taken.

For ages I whined about how I had never seen a bald eagle, even though there are dozens in this area, and I spend a lot of time on the lake and hiking along the Maumee River, in areas where they're known to be found. Last summer I would have missed my chance, if it weren't for excitement of the other people on the beach calling our attention to one as he flew by. This one was the doing the flight equivalent of "booking," straight down the shoreline, singlemindedly heading to wherever it was he needed to go, oblivious to the awe of those of us on the beach underneath where he flew.

For a few years after it was opened, we defected to Maumee Bay State Park because it's closer. It is a truly beautiful park, more polished than Crane Creek. Eventually though, I realized for a few more minutes' drive, I could go back to the beaches at Crane Creek, where the waves came in along the breakers, where we could take long walks along the shore as the sun was setting.

Since one of the reasons I loved it there was how quiet it had become, and how often we were amongst only a handful of people on the beach on any given day, it might have occured to me that eventually they would stop keeping it open just for us. Still I was saddened when the state closed the beach this summer and added the entire park to the Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge. Of course more shoreline for nesting is a good thing for the birds, and the park itself is still open to visitors. We took a drive over there one day, after leaving Maumee Bay because of afternoon storms. It was completely deserted and somewhat unnerving. Already the beaches are becoming more wild and unruly. We explored several places within the larger park that we'd never taken the time to investigate before. Now that spending time on the beach is out of the question, we will make the drive over there to walk the trails and look for birds and wildlife, which is after all what the real purpose of the parks should be.

Let All The Children Boogie: concert flashbacks

2008-07-20T18:44:00.000-04:00

Not all that often, just now and then, I spend the day with classic rock radio stations on AOL. I promise I haven't lived in the past musically for the last 30+ years. There's a lot of songs and bands I've barely thought about since I originally collected the albums, and the greatest thing about internet radio is the next arrow to skip through songs I don't ever need to hear again. Just as often I rush over to turn the volume up, loud. I usually have to take these trips down nostalgia lane when my kids aren't home or they tell me to turn it down, MOM!

(On a related note, did you ever consider what boomer nursing homes will be like? "Dazed and Confused" blaring on hallway speakers. Old guys with walkers playing air guitar to "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction." Some former bar band singer putting "Smoke on the Water" on repeat until his neighbors storm the room to make it stop.)

Always, one song can lead to many more, and many memories. Today that song was "Rebel Rebel." My very first live concert, at the Toledo Sports Arena was David Bowie, during his Diamond Dogs tour. I was 15. We loved Ziggy Stardust . I can probably still sing most of the songs on that album by heart. As long as no one's in the room.

That may very well have been the best concert I went to, right then and there. He had no opening act. The lights went out and there was Bowie. He played and we went wild, perched on our seats in that hot, smoke-(of all kinds)-filled concert hall. Later he took an intermission and came back onstage to the opening notes of Space Oddity. A spotlight picked up his face, hovering in midair. As he sang, he floated down in the light, until the whole stage lit up and we saw he was actually on sort of rock version of a cherry picker. Great stuff!

I don't remember all the concerts we went to, and even when I know I saw someone, I can't remember much of the show. I saw Queen (and thanks to google I can even pinpoint the date: 1975: Tue 11th Feb - USA, Toledo, Student Union Auditorium.) I can remember Freddie Mercury on stage, his cape flying around him as he stomped around the stage. He was an amazing performer.

(What's somewhat amusing or perplexing now is that in spite of my taste in bands during high school, I had no conscious awareness of homosexuality at all. Were Bowie or Freddie "out" at all back then? If it were discussed anywhere by anyone it went over or through my head. What a lonely time it must have been to be gay in those days. Not that there was even "gay" or "out.")

Over the years, in order of memory, not occurence, I saw Jackson Browne more times than I can count. We borrowed a friend's Jeep and wore our long skirts to see Joan Baez at the Masonic. I saw Dan Folgeberg during his "Twin Sons" tour with Tim Weisberg, Emerson Lake and Palmer, Bob Seeger (twice), saw Simple Minds in Ann Arbor in seats so high up I spent most of the concert in the hallway to avoid vertigo. More recently, I saw Counting Crows, and took my (then) 15 year old to see Mest at Howards Club H in Bowling Green. She had a great time. I wore earplugs.

I of course didn't see more bands than I can list but my most regretful close call was almost seeing U2 at their Live at Red Rocks concert. I was living in Denver when the concert schedule came out. I was on my way back to Ohio and nearly postponed the trip for that concert.

And another thing: Stairway to Heaven is a truly great song.
And Free Bird always sucked.

Sorry about that, Patsy Ramsey!

2008-07-10T19:26:00.000-04:00

DNA is an amazing enough tool on its own, now we can isolate DNA from a touch? Wow. What else has solved as many crimes, helped successfully prosecute more scumbags, allowed more innocent people to finally go free than DNA? Let's toss as much money as it takes into creating labs and training scientists so we can test every bit of evidence out there, without any backlog. Since we have never been able to strike the fear of God or blind justice into those who prey on others, let's at least slap them down with their own skin cells.
I'm sure it's quite a relief for the remaining Ramsey family and the people who stood by them that DNA evidence reportedly clears Ramsey family Still, it's a bit too little too late for Patsy Ramsey, isn't it? Don't get me wrong, I can certainly see how the Ramseys were an easy family to dislike. Like anyone, I was shocked and a bit appalled to have the reality of child pageantry shoved in my face in the form of pictures and video of that overly made-up and costumed now-dead child. None of that made them guilty but it doesn't seem to matter. Even now, Patsy Ramsey is still being blamed! If you had a feeling she did it, why would an official exoneration based on actual science convince you otherwise? We do it all the time. Make a list: Polly Klaas, Natalee Holloway, Adam Walsh, Madeleine McCann, and as quickly as you can say the names, someone will tell you exactly why the parents are somehow to blame. If they aren't the out and out killers who got away with it, then they certainly did something wrong, something the person sitting in judgement would never ever do. I don't get it. I've made plenty of mistakes as a parent and I consider myself to be damned lucky none of my mistakes resulted in any of my children being front page news. And I never stop praying I can still say the same on my last day on Earth. Yes I realize sometimes it really is the parents, but if there is a chance it was someone else, doesn't common decency suggest we refrain from reaching a verdict until we know? Perhaps we feel safer believing that these sorts of things are preventable, that if we never turn our back, walk away, go to bed early, cry too much, cry too little, look too long, give up too soon, then the worst possible nightmare that could ever happen to any parent will never happen to us.
Don't we all sometimes pause and look at our children and feel our heart catch at the possibilities? We dedicate our lives to raising happy children, children who will be strong and alert but not fearful, who will enjoy childhoods full of fun and learning and who will grow into adults who love life and make a difference. Meanwhile in a parallel world, other children are being scarred and branded and twisted into becoming the predators that are a part of our world. And all we can do is pray to whatever version of God or fate we believe in that their lives will never intersect.

Send Pesticides!

2008-07-09T09:40:00.000-04:00

We live in what was formerly known as the Black Swamp. Poetic name isn't it? In a hypothetical sort of way. No one really wants to live in a swamp but over the past few years we've gotten so much rain, it's becoming easier to imagine just what it was like in the days before proper drainage systems.
I don't have to look up stats or records to know that torrential downpours every couple of days is not typical for summers in northwest Ohio. I know this because since childhood I have always mowed the lawn, and since most of the lawns I've mowed were in the country, people in the country do not waste water by keeping that grass nice and green. When it stops raining, the yard dies and you don't have to mow it anymore! Then later it rains and grows back. The rules are you should get at least an occasional week off in July and August. Sometimes you get most of July and August off entirely. It's just the way it is and the way it should be. Hot, dry, no mowing. Instead there is standing water everywhere, water washing out fields, covering yards. Flood warnings and watches are the norm. We had some storms last week with so much rain the roads around here were literally washed out, as in, "Holy shit! I'm not driving through that! It's halfway up the bumper of that freaking truck!!!"
I feel for those early settlers, hacking their way through weeds and trees, sinking up to their thighs in never-ending mud. Mostly though what would have surely been enough to turn me back are bugs. Especially mosquitoes. I'm all for organic gardening and nurturing Mother Earth but right now all I want to hear is the sound of the county's mosquito spray truck driving down our road at dusk. I betcha there's a real market for illegal pesticides right about now. I live in a wooded area first off. You cannot leave the house at night and daytime isn't much better. We have cans of Off and Cutters sitting around everywhere. And my house is old. It has gaps in the windows and tears in the screens. The mosquitoes are so thick that just drifting around out there or whatever it is they do, a whole lot of them end up inside. What can you do? Nothing, nothing except slap your hands together, only to watch them skitter away, or smash them gleefully on walls. If anyone has come up with a way to smack them on the monitor without knocking it over, please let me know. It can't last, right? They'll come through and spray any day now which will knock them back for a short time, and then before we know it, winter will arrive and I'll have something else to complain about!
Credit for the mosquito picture goes to this website. What a great site! I can sit here for another hour or so just reading about the mosquitoes I loathe. skeeterbite.info Gawd I love the internet.

blogging

2008-07-09T09:25:00.001-04:00

Surely by now every third person has a blog of some sort. That means it's a technical impossibility that all of these blogs are being read by anyone on a regular basis. And still, we all sit here and type, type, type.
For years I kept journals. I still remember the first time someone gave me a "blank book." Wow, a bound stack of white paper! And it's all mine! Back then, we kept our journals tucked away in a nightstand and worried our moms might get ahold of them if we died. No more of that! The internet has made us all exhibitionists and voyeurs.
I can rationalize the dog blog because perhaps rescue will be of some interest, most likely to other rescuers. This one is the modern version of talking to myself. Not only do I always have a running monologue going on in my head, generally I find myself to be fairly amusing. If you don't, just keep those thoughts to yourself and move along!