Saturday, December 26, 2009

Snowflake Analogy


At a very young age we all learn that no two snowflakes are alike. They look exactly the same from a distance, but up close they are individually unique. Of all of the millions of snowflakes piled up in my yard right now, no two are exactly the same.


Kind of like people. No two are exactly the same. Even siblings raised in the same household with similar DNA and identical parents can be amazingly different philosophically.


Which makes me wonder if we're overvaluing the concept of diversity and making erroneous assumptions about masses of people when individuals are inherently diverse.


If I were to be placed in a room full of middle aged white women, the main things we would have in common would be our human experiences -- the very things we would have in common with people of any other race or gender. My philosophical twin, if one exists, would not necessarily be in that group. He could be male and black, or she could be elderly and Asian.


And why do I care about this subject? Because I believe that efforts to orchestrate diversity artificially do more to divide us than to unite us, and my inner cynic sometimes wonders if that could be intentional. "United we stand, divided we fall." If we allow ourselves to be divided into groups (based on race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, age, religious affiliation, or any other factors), we are more easily conquered.



Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Probably not an original thought...

It's probably not an original thought, but it felt like one when it occurred to me about midnight last night after I'd turned off the light to go to sleep. I sat up in bed, turned on the light again, and wrote this on a 4x6 card:

The good news and the bad news are the same news: you can have just about anything you want in life if you're willing to work for it.


Now as I sit here thinking about this midnight revelation, it occurs to me that we receive many of the desirable things in life without working for them: our five senses, our health, bright warm sunshine, breathtakingly beautiful scenery, family...They are gifts from a loving Father in Heaven.

He also gives us the freedom to pursue happiness - that's where work comes in. If we're lucky, the work involved is rewarding. If we're really lucky, it's even pleasurable.

Which reminds me of one of my favorite all-time quotes:

Let us realize that the privilege to work is a gift, that the power of work is a blessing, that love of work is success. -- David O. McKay

Monday, December 7, 2009

Word of the Day: Quixotic

QUIXOTIC -- (like Don Quixote) extravagantly chivalrous and romantic; impractical; visionary; imaginary; foolish in the pursuit of unreachable ideals

First written reference dates back to 1688, though the book, Don Quixote, dates back to 1605.

Some examples of how to use 'quixotic' in a sentence (this is hard!):

As a young college student, she was mesmerized by the poet's quixotic world view.

After forfeiting her Miss America crown, the beauty queen realized world peace was probably quixotic at best. She decided to try for inner peace instead.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Quick Movie Review: "Bright Star"




Saturday night, when deluged with stuff to do, I decided to go to an art house movie at the Broadway Theater downtown. (This is symptomatic of my procrastination routine -- I tell myself that I work best under pressure.) Anyway, I decided to see a film called "Bright Star" about the poet John Keats and his first (and only) love, Fanny Brawne. It was a period piece (1818) but grittier than a Merchant-Ivory film with more realistic elements. John Keats had only one set of clothes, for example, and his wealthier friend/benefactor had two. Fanny Brawne was a flirtatious clothes horse / amateur fashion designer, so she had an assortment of nice things to wear of her own creation.

Anyway, I did not particularly like the film. The acting was fine, but as much as they tried, the actors portraying John Keats and Fanny Brawne lacked chemistry. (Note to self: if you're ever casting a love story, capitalize on natural attraction by selecting leading roles in a love film based upon actual attraction.)

I also spent a good part of the film trying to figure out the relationship among various minor characters. Who is related to whom? I probably should have done my homework on John Keats' biography before hand, but that would not have been necessary if the writer/director, Jane Campion, had clarified it at the outset.

On the other hand, some of the scenery was gorgeous, and I do have a better understanding of John Keats. The title comes from a poem he wrote to Fanny Brawne -- she was his 'Bright Star.'

And I have to add that it was much better than "Dead Poets' Society," which came out 20 years ago and really wasn't about dead poets at all. (Was I the only person disappointed about that?! Dead poets are probably a fascinating bunch.)

This is part of his most famous poem, "A Thing of Beauty Is a Joy Forever":

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth...

Monday, November 23, 2009

Morita and Naikan Philosophy 101





If you, like me, 'suffer' from analysis paralysis, maybe you'd be interested in learning about Morita therapy and the Naikan method of self-reflection -- two philosophies very foreign to my Western way of thinking. (They are Japanese, and I am not really a Japanese afficionado. Generally speaking, I like all things Western European. Japanese gardens, stir-fry and Morita therapy are the only exceptions.)

In Western psychology (think Freud and Jung...) they focus on what someone thinks or feels and why they think or feel that way and what can be done to make them think or feel differently -- as though thoughts and feelings could be controlled by will. Morita recognizes that feelings are complex, so it asks you to accept your thoughts and feelings, as unpleasant as some of them may be, and move forward in spite of them.

Here are Five Elements of Psychological Health to consider (taken from the ToDo Institute web site, where they practice many of these concepts):

1. Learn to co-exist with uncertainty. (Realize that you cannot control the outcome of every situation.)
2. Pay attention to details -- nature, sports, food...everything. Details help us live with passion and fascination. They also take us outside of ourselves.
3. Lead with the body, not the mind. (***I find this to be KEY***) "Let the body take action and the mind follow." [My mind is stronger than my body, so I've tried this the other way around, but now I am observing that this is a much more sensible approach.] Acknowledge thoughts as they arise, but return your attention to the action at hand.
4. Either change your circumstances, or accept them. (I think I'm pretty good at this one.)
5. Cultivate gratitude through self-reflection.

Morita is sometimes called the 'psychology of action.' Years ago I read a fantastic book, called "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway," in which the author made the bold statement that ACTION IS POWER. Love that thought! (There I go again -- turning a call to action into a moment of contemplation, thus my paralysis.)

Naikan therapy has four phases:
1. The rest phase -- separate yourself from the loud and intrusive world. Re-familiarize yourself with peace.
2. The 'light work' phase -- including journal writing. Go outside to re-connect with nature. Move from darkenss to light both figuratively and literally.
3. The 'strenuous work' phase -- stretching and strengthening through physical labor, preferaly outdoors.
4. Integration phase -- blending meditation, physical activity, clear thinking, more ordered living, and a renewed relationship with the natural world.

As I read more about this (and synthesize the information for this blog entry), I realize many of these concepts were first intoruduced to me by Emerson and Thoreau, so maybe they aren't strictly Japanese afterall.

Just something to think about...

Monday, November 16, 2009

An Engineering Kind of Quote


This excerpt from the book "The Paradise of Bombs" by Scott Russell Sanders (University of Georgia Press) made me look at the world a little differently. (There's a moral lesson in the quote, too.) I'd really never thought about the importance of engineering before reading this:


"There is a mystical virtue in right angles. There is an unspoken morality in seeking the level and the plumb. A house will stand, a table will bear weight, the sides of a box will hold together only if the joints are square and the members are upright. When the bubble is lined up between two marks etched in the glass tube of the level, you have aligned yourself with the forces that hold the universe together."

Sunday, November 1, 2009

VOTE!


Over the past two weeks I’ve been working full-time at an early voting office in Taylorsville, Utah. Some days we had as few as 55 voters, others as many as 133. Overall, 676 people exercised their right to vote at our location, and each time a voter returned a voting card, we handed him or her a red and white “I Voted” sticker. A few people declined to accept the sticker, but most accepted it gladly and promptly placed it to the upper left side of their chests where their hands might rest while reciting the pledge of allegiance. I saw it over and over again.

This made me think of the triumphant voters in liberated Iraq in 2005 who dipped their thumbs in insoluable purple ink to indicate that they had voted, a step designed to prevent them from voting again. Iraqis who dared to vote by the thousands defied threats of violent retaliation to turn out at the polls.

In some countries like Australia eligible citizens are required to vote. In Bolivia, if you don’t vote, the government can prevent you from accessing your bank account for up to three months.

But I’m not writing to lament the low turnout in this municipal election. I don’t want people to use the eeny, meeny, miny, moe method of selecting a candidate to fulfill a civic obligation to vote. I prefer voluntary voting by people who have formulated an opinion, regardless of how they arrived at it.

My co-worker observed that voters tend to be extremely nice people. Maybe that’s why they go out of their way to vote.

On the next to last day of voting, one woman who had forgotten to get a sticker came by later to pick one up. She indicated that she had some sort of grievance with one of the candidates for mayor and wanted that person to see that she had cast a ballot.

Which made me realize that the “I Voted” stickers might just as easily read “I Exercised My Power As a Citizen.”

I would encourage everyone who can vote to study the issues and the candidates and vote, not only because it is a person’s civic duty to do so, but also because it’s a uniquely empowering experience.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Some Intriguing Quotes


Men like women who write. Even though they don't say so. A writer is a foreign country. – Marguerite Duras, French novelist

If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud. – Emile Zola

There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman. – Emile Zola

Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don't feel I should be doing something else. – Gloria Steinem

To be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness. - Bertrand Russell

I realized all the really good ideas I had came to me while I was milking a cow. So, I moved back to Iowa. - Grant Wood, Iowa native and painter.

John Kennedy once said to a assembled group of scholars in the White House, "I think this is the most extraordinary collection of talent, of human knowledge, that has ever been gathered at the White House - with the possible exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone."

Life, as I discovered, holds no more wretched occupation than trying to make the English laugh. – Malcom Muggeridge, editor of Punch

Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire. - W.B. Yeats

I wake up every morning determined both to change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning the day a little difficult. - E. B. White

That is what learning is. You suddenly understand something you've understood all your life, but in a new way. - Doris Lessing

A happy family is but an earlier heaven. – Sir John Bowring

No matter how you feel, you get up, clean up, dress up and show up. – Anonymous

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Book Review: "Summer" by Edith Wharton


I've been on vacation in California for the past few days -- my first non-Disney California vacation in years and years -- and while lounging around the hotel room I started and finished "Summer" by Edith Wharton.

I really liked it.

I've been embarrassed before in recommending books no one else enjoyed, and I must admit that Edith Wharton's most famous novel, "Ethan Frome," is the most depressing book I've ever read, bar none. (It's also one of the most memorable!) So what did I like about "Summer"?

It's the story of a young woman who was saved from a life of squalor on "the mountain" to live with guardians in a small town who raised her completely as their own. After the female guardian's death, the man makes an inappropriate advance on the young woman in his care. She rebukes him, and they continue to live in the same household despite her disgust. Over the summer she becomes the constant companion of a well-to-do young scholar who visits the town to study its architecture. She falls in love with him very gradually...Wharton does a masterful job describing their unfolding relationship and all of its consequences.

"Summer" isn't a long book (just 194 pages), but because of Wharton's rich language and vivid imagery I wouldn't call it a 'quick read.' I never feel compelled to finish reading a book if I lose interest in it, but "Summer" definitely held my interest. (I carried it with me everywhere I went in case I had a minute here or there to read.) As I neared the conclusion, I could foresee three or four possible endings and had to find out which one Wharton would choose. Suffice it to say that the book itself was very controversial in its day (published in 1917).

Here is a sample sentence from p. 61 of the book:
"He had made her feel that the fact of her being a waif from the Mountain was only another reason for holding her close and soothing her with consulatory murmurs; and when the drive was over, and she got out of the buggy, tired, cold, and aching with emotion, she stepped as if the ground were a sunlit wave and she the spray on its crest."

Other books by Edith Wharton I've read (all of which I recommend, even if the first was more than a bit depressing): "Ethan Frome," "The Custom of the Country," and "The Age of Innocence"

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Movie Review: "The Invention of Lying"


What an awful, awful movie!

I had two good reasons for seeing this film: 1) Ricky Gervais, who wrote, directed and starred in it, and 2) an interesting premise.

But it was really, really, painfully bad.

I sat in a packed movie theater for two hours and hardly heard a chortle. While I found a few of the movie's details mildly amusing, I laughed audibly maybe twice. So if it wasn't the comedy it was supposed to be, what was it? A pseudo-intellectual 'let's pretend' exercise with no redeeming qualities.

Warning: If you disregard this review and see "The Invention of Lying" anyway, don't say I didn't warn you!

SIDE NOTE:

Before the movie, I sat through the usual line-up of previews of coming "attractions" - all of them looked bad, too. What is happening?! I've come to the conclusion that Hollywood needs me.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Why I Believe Global Warming Is Bogus


Warning: If you're not interested in the global warming debate, skip this entry. I envy your laissez-faire attitude! But if you live in constant fear and guilt over global warming, please read further.

Over the past week, President Obama has been focusing more and more on global warming, which got me talking with family members the other evening about it. My sister-in-law asked me to post some excerpts from an excellent speech on the subject by Michael Crichton, which he gave in California in 2003. (While Michael Crichton was a brilliant man, he was also an atheist...something to keep in mind as you read his analysis.)

To preface his remarks, the ‘global warming’ movement has changed its name to the ‘climate change’ movement because the earth stopped warming in 1998 and has been cooling since then. Now they insist that climate change is a result of man-made environmental destruction. In reality, I believe that they only want to collect taxes from technologically advanced nations. We may soon have an international tax collection process, for the first time ever, ostensibly to combat global warming, if the UN has its way. (As if the UN could do anything to combat global warming anyway...)

Now here are excerpts from the text of “Environtmentalism as Religion” by Michael Crichton.

“I have been asked to talk about what I consider the most important challenge facing mankind, and I have a fundamental answer. The greatest challenge facing mankind is the challenge of distinguishing reality from fantasy, truth from propaganda. Perceiving the truth has always been a challenge to mankind, but in the information age (or as I think of it, the disinformation age) it takes on a special urgency and importance.

We must daily decide whether the threats we face are real, whether the solutions we are offered will do any good, whether the problems we're told exist are in fact real problems, or non-problems. Every one of us has a sense of the world, and we all know that this sense is in part given to us by what other people and society tell us; in part generated by our emotional state, which we project outward; and in part by our genuine perceptions of reality. In short, our struggle to determine what is true is the struggle to decide which of our perceptions are genuine, and which are false because they are handed down, or sold to us, or generated by our own hopes and fears. . . .


Today, one of the most powerful religions in the Western World is environmentalism. Environmentalism seems to be the religion of choice for urban atheists. Why do I say it's a religion? Well, just look at the beliefs. If you look carefully, you see that environmentalism is in fact a perfect 21st century remapping of traditional Judeo-Christian beliefs and myths.

There's an initial Eden, a paradise, a state of grace and unity with nature, there's a fall from grace into a state of pollution as a result of eating from the tree of knowledge, and as a result of our actions there is a judgment day coming for us all. We are all energy sinners, doomed to die, unless we seek salvation, which is now called sustainability. Sustainability is salvation in the church of the environment. Just as organic food is its communion, that pesticide-free wafer that the right people with the right beliefs, imbibe.

Eden, the fall of man, the loss of grace, the coming doomsday---these are deeply held mythic structures. They are profoundly conservative beliefs. They may even be hard-wired in the brain, for all I know. I certainly don't want to talk anybody out of them, as I don't want to talk anybody out of a belief that Jesus Christ is the son of God who rose from the dead. But the reason I don't want to talk anybody out of these beliefs is that I know that I can't talk anybody out of them. These are not facts that can be argued. These are issues of faith.

And so it is, sadly, with environmentalism. Increasingly it seems facts aren't necessary, because the tenets of environmentalism are all about belief. It's about whether you are going to be a sinner, or saved. Whether you are going to be one of the people on the side of salvation, or on the side of doom. Whether you are going to be one of us, or one of them.

Am I exaggerating to make a point? I am afraid not. Because we know a lot more about the world than we did forty or fifty years ago. And what we know now is not so supportive of certain core environmental myths, yet the myths do not die. Let's examine some of those beliefs.

There is no Eden. There never was. What was that Eden of the wonderful mythic past? Is it the time when infant mortality was 80%, when four children in five died of disease before the age of five? When one woman in six died in childbirth? When the average lifespan was 40, as it was in America a century ago. When plagues swept across the planet, killing millions in a stroke. Was it when millions starved to death? Is that when it was Eden?

And what about indigenous peoples, living in a state of harmony with the Eden-like environment? Well, they never did. On this continent, the newly arrived people who crossed the land bridge almost immediately set about wiping out hundreds of species of large animals, and they did this several thousand years before the white man showed up, to accelerate the process. And what was the condition of life? Loving, peaceful, harmonious? Hardly: the early peoples of the New World lived in a state of constant warfare. Generations of hatred, tribal hatreds, constant battles. The warlike tribes of this continent are famous: the Comanche, Sioux, Apache, Mohawk, Aztecs, Toltec, Incas. Some of them practiced infanticide, and human sacrifice. And those tribes that were not fiercely warlike were exterminated, or learned to build their villages high in the cliffs to attain some measure of safety.

How about the human condition in the rest of the world? The Maori of New Zealand committed massacres regularly. The dyaks of Borneo were headhunters. The Polynesians, living in an environment as close to paradise as one can imagine, fought constantly, and created a society so hideously restrictive that you could lose your life if you stepped in the footprint of a chief. It was the Polynesians who gave us the very concept of taboo, as well as the word itself. The noble savage is a fantasy, and it was never true. That anyone still believes it, 200 years after Rousseau, shows the tenacity of religious myths, their ability to hang on in the face of centuries of factual contradiction.

There was even an academic movement, during the latter 20th century, that claimed that cannibalism was a white man's invention to demonize the indigenous peoples. (Only academics could fight such a battle.) It was some thirty years before professors finally agreed that yes, cannibalism does indeed occur among human beings. Meanwhile, all during this time New Guinea highlanders in the 20th century continued to eat the brains of their enemies until they were finally made to understand that they risked kuru, a fatal neurological disease, when they did so.

More recently still the gentle Tasaday of the Philippines turned out to be a publicity stunt, a nonexistent tribe. And African pygmies have one of the highest murder rates on the planet.

In short, the romantic view of the natural world as a blissful Eden is only held by people who have no actual experience of nature. People who live in nature are not romantic about it at all. They may hold spiritual beliefs about the world around them, they may have a sense of the unity of nature or the aliveness of all things, but they still kill the animals and uproot the plants in order to eat, to live. If they don't, they will die.

And if you, even now, put yourself in nature even for a matter of days, you will quickly be disabused of all your romantic fantasies. Take a trek through the jungles of Borneo, and in short order you will have festering sores on your skin, you'll have bugs all over your body, biting in your hair, crawling up your nose and into your ears, you'll have infections and sickness and if you're not with somebody who knows what they're doing, you'll quickly starve to death. But chances are that even in the jungles of Borneo you won't experience nature so directly, because you will have covered your entire body with DEET and you will be doing everything you can to keep those bugs off you.

The truth is, almost nobody wants to experience real nature. What people want is to spend a week or two in a cabin in the woods, with screens on the windows. They want a simplified life for a while, without all their stuff. Or a nice river rafting trip for a few days, with somebody else doing the cooking. Nobody wants to go back to nature in any real way, and nobody does. It's all talk-and as the years go on, and the world population grows increasingly urban, it's uninformed talk. Farmers know what they're talking about. City people don't. It's all fantasy.

One way to measure the prevalence of fantasy is to note the number of people who die because they haven't the least knowledge of how nature really is. They stand beside wild animals, like buffalo, for a picture and get trampled to death; they climb a mountain in dicey weather without proper gear, and freeze to death. They drown in the surf on holiday because they can't conceive the real power of what we blithely call "the force of nature." They have seen the ocean. But they haven't been in it.

The television generation expects nature to act the way they want it to be. They think all life experiences can be tivo-ed. The notion that the natural world obeys its own rules and doesn't give a damn about your expectations comes as a massive shock. Well-to-do, educated people in an urban environment experience the ability to fashion their daily lives as they wish. They buy clothes that suit their taste, and decorate their apartments as they wish. Within limits, they can contrive a daily urban world that pleases them.

But the natural world is not so malleable. On the contrary, it will demand that you adapt to it-and if you don't, you die. It is a harsh, powerful, and unforgiving world, that most urban westerners have never experienced.

Many years ago I was trekking in the Karakorum mountains of northern Pakistan, when my group came to a river that we had to cross. It was a glacial river, freezing cold, and it was running very fast, but it wasn't deep---maybe three feet at most. My guide set out ropes for people to hold as they crossed the river, and everybody proceeded, one at a time, with extreme care. I asked the guide what was the big deal about crossing a three-foot river. He said, well, supposing you fell and suffered a compound fracture. We were now four days trek from the last big town, where there was a radio. Even if the guide went back double time to get help, it'd still be at least three days before he could return with a helicopter. If a helicopter were available at all. And in three days, I'd probably be dead from my injuries. So that was why everybody was crossing carefully. Because out in nature a little slip could be deadly.

But let's return to religion. If Eden is a fantasy that never existed, and mankind wasn't ever noble and kind and loving, if we didn't fall from grace, then what about the rest of the religious tenets? What about salvation, sustainability, and judgment day? What about the coming environmental doom from fossil fuels and global warming, if we all don't get down on our knees and conserve every day?

Well, it's interesting. You may have noticed that something has been left off the doomsday list, lately. Although the preachers of environmentalism have been yelling about population for fifty years, over the last decade world population seems to be taking an unexpected turn. Fertility rates are falling almost everywhere. As a result, over the course of my lifetime the thoughtful predictions for total world population have gone from a high of 20 billion, to 15 billion, to 11 billion (which was the UN estimate around 1990) to now 9 billion, and soon, perhaps less. There are some who think that world population will peak in 2050 and then start to decline. There are some who predict we will have fewer people in 2100 than we do today. Is this a reason to rejoice, to say halleluiah? Certainly not. Without a pause, we now hear about the coming crisis of world economy from a shrinking population. We hear about the impending crisis of an aging population. Nobody anywhere will say that the core fears expressed for most of my life have turned out not to be true. As we have moved into the future, these doomsday visions vanished, like a mirage in the desert. They were never there---though they still appear, in the future. As mirages do.

Okay, so, the preachers made a mistake. They got one prediction wrong; they're human. So what. Unfortunately, it's not just one prediction. It's a whole slew of them. We are running out of oil. We are running out of all natural resources. Paul Ehrlich: 60 million Americans will die of starvation in the 1980s. Forty thousand species become extinct every year. Half of all species on the planet will be extinct by 2000. And on and on and on.

With so many past failures, you might think that environmental predictions would become more cautious. But not if it's a religion. Remember, the nut on the sidewalk carrying the placard that predicts the end of the world doesn't quit when the world doesn't end on the day he expects. He just changes his placard, sets a new doomsday date, and goes back to walking the streets. One of the defining features of religion is that your beliefs are not troubled by facts, because they have nothing to do with facts.

So I can tell you some facts. I know you haven't read any of what I am about to tell you in the newspaper, because newspapers literally don't report them. . . .

I can tell you that the evidence for global warming is far weaker than its proponents would ever admit. I can tell you the percentage the US land area that is taken by urbanization, including cities and roads, is 5%. I can tell you that the Sahara desert is shrinking, and the total ice of Antarctica is increasing. I can tell you that a blue-ribbon panel in Science magazine concluded that there is no known technology that will enable us to halt the rise of carbon dioxide in the 21st century. Not wind, not solar, not even nuclear. The panel concluded a totally new technology-like nuclear fusion-was necessary, otherwise nothing could be done and in the meantime all efforts would be a waste of time. They said that when the UN IPCC reports stated alternative technologies existed that could control greenhouse gases, the UN was wrong.

I can, with a lot of time, give you the factual basis for these views, and I can cite the appropriate journal articles not in whacko magazines, but in the most prestigious science journals, such as Science and Nature. But such references probably won't impact more than a handful of you, because the beliefs of a religion are not dependent on facts, but rather are matters of faith. Unshakeable belief. . . .


I want to argue that it is now time for us to make a major shift in our thinking about the environment, similar to the shift that occurred around the first Earth Day in 1970, when this awareness was first heightened. But this time around, we need to get environmentalism out of the sphere of religion. We need to stop the mythic fantasies, and we need to stop the doomsday predictions. We need to start doing hard science instead.

There are two reasons why I think we all need to get rid of the religion of environmentalism.

Environmentalism needs to be absolutely based in objective and verifiable science, it needs to be rational, and it needs to be flexible. And it needs to be apolitical. To mix environmental concerns with the frantic fantasies that people have about one political party or another is to miss the cold truth---that there is very little difference between the parties, except a difference in pandering rhetoric. The effort to promote effective legislation for the environment is not helped by thinking that the Democrats will save us and the Republicans won't. Political history is more complicated than that. Never forget which president started the EPA: Richard Nixon. And never forget which president sold federal oil leases, allowing oil drilling in Santa Barbara: Lyndon Johnson. So get politics out of your thinking about the environment.

The second reason to abandon environmental religion is more pressing. Religions think they know it all, but the unhappy truth of the environment is that we are dealing with incredibly complex, evolving systems, and we usually are not certain how best to proceed. Those who are certain are demonstrating their personality type, or their belief system, not the state of their knowledge. Our record in the past, for example managing national parks, is humiliating. Our fifty-year effort at forest-fire suppression is a well-intentioned disaster from which our forests will never recover. We need to be humble, deeply humble, in the face of what we are trying to accomplish. . .


We must institute far more stringent requirements for what constitutes knowledge in the environmental realm. I am thoroughly sick of politicized so-called facts that simply aren't true. It isn't that these "facts" are exaggerations of an underlying truth. Nor is it that certain organizations are spinning their case to present it in the strongest way. Not at all---what more and more groups are doing is putting out is lies, pure and simple. Falsehoods that they know to be false. . .

(Regarding the EPA, we need to) shut it down and start over. What we need is a new organization much closer to the FDA. We need an organization that will be ruthless about acquiring verifiable results, that will fund identical research projects to more than one group, and that will make everybody in this field get honest fast.

Because in the end, science offers us the only way out of politics. And if we allow science to become politicized, then we are lost. We will enter the Internet version of the dark ages, an era of shifting fears and wild prejudices, transmitted to people who don't know any better. That's not a good future for the human race. That's our past. So it's time to abandon the religion of environmentalism, and return to the science of environmentalism, and base our public policy decisions firmly on that.

Thank you very much.”


Now, here are some other refutations of global warming for you to consider:

***Here is a link to an excellent article debunking global warming alarmism:

http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,24934655-5017272,00.html

Sample of the text printed January 20, 2009:

Using several fundamentally different mathematical techniques and many different data sets, seven scientists all forecast that climatic cooling will occur during the first decades of the 21st century. Temperature records confirm that cooling is under way, the length and intensity of which remains unknown.

Yet in spite of this, governments across the world - egged on by irrational, deep Green lobbying - have for years been using their financial muscle and other powers of persuasion to introduce carbon dioxide taxation systems. For example, the federal Labor government recently spent $13.9million on climate change advertising on prime time television and in national newspapers and magazines.
***A 2006 op-ed by Richard Lindzen in The Wall Street Journal challenged the claim that scientific consensus had been reached, and listed the Science journal study as well as other sources, including the IPCC and NAS reports, as part of "an intense effort to suggest that the theoretically expected contribution from additional carbon dioxide has actually been detected."[37] Lindzen wrote in The Wall Street Journal on April 12, 2006,[38]

But there is a more sinister side to this feeding frenzy. Scientists who dissent from the alarmism have seen their grant funds disappear, their work derided, and themselves libeled as industry stooges, scientific hacks or worse. Consequently, lies about climate change gain credence even when they fly in the face of the science that supposedly is their basis.




***In a recent interview with Steve Inskeep of NPR, Michael Griffen (NASA Administrator) is quoted as saying;

“I have no doubt that global — that a trend of global warming exists. I am not sure that it is fair to say that it is a problem we must wrestle with. To assume that it is a problem is to assume that the state of earth’s climate today is the optimal climate, the best climate that we could have or ever have had and that we need to take steps to make sure that it doesn’t change. First of all, I don’t think it’s within the power of human beings to assure that the climate does not change, as millions of years of history have shown, and second of all, I guess I would ask which human beings - where and when - are to be accorded the privilege of deciding that this particular climate that we have right here today, right now is the best climate for all other human beings. I think that’s a rather arrogant position for people to take.”

Friday, September 18, 2009

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Time to Change the Page...

Sorry I am slow to update these days, adjusting to the working world. This temporary job will come to an end tomorrow when the early voting polls close and I pack it up and go home. (I have made amazing progress on my novel, though. The voting is extremely slow! I've had plenty of time to think.)

First, I should probably give my latest take on the Obama speech to school children (as opposed to the speech before Congress on Wednesday and the two speeches planned for Monday...he's blitzing right now, razzle dazzling...)

Although by most accounts Obama's speech to school children was innocuous at worst, inspirational at best, I still believe he overstepped. Remember during the presidential campaign when Obama's people used children to 'get out the vote'? They even had a web site designed to get children excited about Obama's candidacy. I saw more than one TV interview with parents in November who said they were at the polls because their children insisted they had to cast a vote for Obama. I don't like the idea of using children in the political process or giving politicians access to them. Plenty of despots have appealed to children because children are more easily impressed than their wiser and more experienced parents.

When George H.W. Bush gave a similar speech to school children months into the school year many years ago (early '80s) the Democrats went ballistic and even held hearings on Capitol Hill about it.

Enough about politics!

I am tired. Let's call it world-weery. I'm ready to be home for the next few days to regroup.

Happy weekend!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Regarding President Obama's Planned Speech to America's School Children on Tuesday, Septmber 8th:

When the state reaches past me to my children directly, intentionally shutting me out and diminishing my role as parent and motivator-in-chief, I cry foul.

And, yes, trust is an issue here. I do not trust Barack Obama precisely because of the people he associates with and seeks advice from – to wit, the Reverend James Wright and a bevy of “special advisors” to the president who have recent, radical ties to communism and anarchy (such as Van Jones, the green jobs advisor, Ezekiel Emmanuel, the health care advisor…I could go on and on.)

I also do not trust Obama to be able to differentiate between topics which are and are not political in nature – topics which are and are not off limits. The doctrine of environmentalism, for example, has been taught to every child in every school in America, but global warming is not settled science. I will not burden my children with guilt that the planet warms and cools and animals are born and die and icebergs melt as part of the natural order of things.

Call me a conspiracy theorist but I also do not trust Obama and his team not to add subliminal messages during his address, either visually or verbally.

Being president of the United States does not entitle anyone to automatic trust. Trust must be earned, and so far Barack Obama has not earned it.

Some will accuse me of being a racist because I oppose virtually every item on Obama’s agenda. When a liberal accuses a conservative of being a racist because he or she opposes Obama’s goals, it’s like chalking up every contrary remark by a female to her menstrual cycle. I know my own mind.

Obama is presumably an example of academic excellence (I say ‘presumably’ because he will not release grades or papers from any of the institutions he attended), but why can’t he speak on academic excellence to children AND their parents at home? His team would say he can’t do that because they cannot trust parents to sit down with their children and watch it – they must rely on government employees (teachers) to make sure children hear the speech. Just one more example of how liberals do not trust the American people.

Which is preferable in a Republic – distrust of the government or distrust of the people?

At the very least, if I cannot preview the speech via You Tube or whitehouse.com, my children will be excused from school during the speech.

I hope this is not intended to become an annual event.

P.S. I recall Michelle Obama, herself very well educated, telling an audience of women on the campaign trail that they should not aspire to become doctors and lawyers but that they should aspire to low level service sector jobs – what kind of academic message is that?

P.S.S. I've never written a blog faster. I guess the whole idea of a (potentially) political speech aimed at children touched a nerve.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Gone voting...



I haven't been as consistent about updating my blog since I started training and working (temporarily) for our county's 'early voting' municiple elections. It takes several days to adjust to working full-time and I'm still adjusting. I will probably finish adjusting about the time the early voting ends.

The turnout for this election is going to be soooooooooo low that the hardest part will be keeping myself and my co-worker awake all day. Our turnout today (10 voters!) was actually considered good.

So I haven't forgotten about my blog...I'm not gone fishing...I'm gone voting...

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Smoothing the Rough Edges of Life


Two days ago while going through my morning routine I sprayed on my favorite perfume ('Pleasures' by Estee Lauder)and realized that perfume is one of those things that smooths the hard edges of life. It's a small thing - the aroma of perfume - but it makes life smell really, really good. For varying lengths of time after spraying it, I walk around in my own luxurious cloud.

This realization got me thinking about other things that smooth the rough edges of life. So far my list is short, but every time I stop to think about it, it gets longer. Here are a few items I would include:

cool shade
the sound of running water and lapping waves
wildflowers
snowmen
the smell of burning leaves in the fall
sincere compliments
laughter
soap
pellett ice

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Back to School


Back to school means...
...no more sleeping in
...no more lazy afternoons at the pool
...no more messy car (We try harder to keep it clean for the carpool.)
...no more questions like, "What do you want to do today?"
...no more children lounging around the house

In short, no more irresponsibility.

I guess I hate the end of anything. Even though we tried to savor our weeks of freedom, on this eve of the first day of school I have pangs of regret. The season is over and we wasted precious time. We didn't value what we had. We didn't maximize the possibilities embodied in the very idea of summertime.

It's time now to return to alarm clocks, sack lunches, homework, and bedtimes. Every morning our family will scatter in all directions, and every evening we will reconvene at home - it's miraculous, really, how that happens.

We will all be more productive.

It's for the best - it really is - but I will miss the pitter patter of little feet around here. [Okay, they aren't so little anymore. Emily's feet have grown two and a half shoe sizes since spring!]

All of this reminds me of the last stanza of a Robert Frost poem called 'Reluctance.' I memorized these lines a long time ago and think of them at melancholy times like these, amazed by Frost's remarkable understanding of the human condition:

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than treason,
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with grace to reason
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or season?

Saturday, August 22, 2009

An Ice Cream Mystery...


For as long as I can remember, I've loved ice cream. Baskin Robbins' baseball nut has always been my favorite flavor, but at various times I've liked all kinds: butter brickle and butter pecan, fudge brownie, mint chip, jamoca almond fudge, burnt almond fudge...the list is virtually endless. Chocolate is usually, but not always, involved.

I've eaten ice cream until all of my taste buds have frozen. I've eaten ice cream for breakfast. I've eaten ice cream in several countries, in dozens of states. I've had Marble Slab, Maggie Moo's, Baskin Robbins, Swensen's, Haagen Dazs, Ben & Jerry's, Leatherby's, and Cold Stone, not to mention every brand available in grocery stores and a dozen soft serve establishments, at least. Ice cream used to be my favorite, favorite, favorite treat.

Used to be, because it isn't anymore. And I never saw this day coming. I could not have imagined it ever would.

The scriptures talk about when salt loses its savor, but what happens when ice cream loses its flavor? What does that mean?

I don't know if I finally matured and outgrew ice cream, or if I finally exceeded some kind of per capita lifetime limit, but I no longer crave ice cream at all. Never ever.

I have sensed this happening for some time, but last week when our family went out for ice cream after a cultural event I could not even finish a little paper cup of my all-time favorite Haagen Dazs flavor. And I wasn't conting calories either -- I was willing to eat it, but it was more of a bother than a pleasure and I ended up giving it away.

I have no idea what is happening, but I suppose I am glad that ONE temptation of mine has been taken away. Maybe next week, it will be back, but for now it's gone, mysteriously.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Two Very Short Poems

Here is a short poem I would like to commit to memory:

"Happy the Man" by John Dryden

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
Who can call today his own.
He who, secure within, can say,
"Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine,
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been has been,
And I have had my hour."

I know about karma, but I had never heard it described like the tide below:

"A Creed" by Edward Markham

There is a destiny that makes us brothers
None goes his way alone
All that we send into the lives of others
Comes back into our own.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Two "Words of the Day"

It's been a while since I had a basic "Word of the Day" post. I like to choose semi-familiar words (words I hear occasionally) that I can't quite define.

alacrity -- eagerness, zeal, agility (from the Latin word for lively)

EX. Once Mom gave the go-ahead, the children set up their lemonade stand with alacrity.

desultory -- leaping from one subject to another in a disconnected fashion; random; also, disappointing in performance (from the Latin word for leap)

EX. Without an agenda, the staff meeting became a desultory discussion of football statitistics and restuarant critiques.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Book Review: "How Elizabeth Barrett Browning Saved My Life" by Mameve Medwed


After seeing "Julie & Julia" this afternoon, I came home and plopped down to finish reading this novel, which I had started a little over a week ago. (I did play tennis this morning -- I'm not strictly a couch/movie theater potato!)

My one sentence assessment would be: It wasn't great literature, I didn't marvel at the author's depth of meaning or well-crafted phrases, but I enjoyed it.

A down-on-her-luck 35-year-old woman named Abby owns a small antiques business in Cambridge, Mass. where she grew up as the only child of a celebrated Harvard professor. She's had four semi-serious relationships in her life, but she's sworn off men, when she goes on the Antiques Roadshow with a chamber pot she'd inherited from her now-deceased mother. The chamber pot turns out to have some real value, and when her step-siblings see the PBS broadcast they want to split the value with her 50-50. A legal battle ensues.

I won't tell you how it ends in case you read it, but it is fairly predictable. All right, very predictable. Nonetheless, I kept turning the pages to confirm my suspicions.

Movie Review: "Julie & Julia"




It's probably too soon to write the review -- I just saw the film this afternoon, and might normally like to let it sink in a little before writing about it -- but I don't want to forget to tell everyone how GREAT "Julie & Julia" was! I loved it.

The screenplay by Nora Ephron was fantastic. The acting was superb. The settings were perfect.

"Julie & Julia" is based on two true stories: chef Julia Child's, of course, in the 1940s and '50s, and a lesser known (practically unknown) blogger named Julie in 2002.

At the beginning of the movie, Julie and her adoring husband move to a dumpy apartment in Queens. She works in a low-level government job answering calls for the Lower Manhattan Redevelopment Project, a job she clearly hates. Seeking meaning and purpose in her life, she decides she will re-create each of Julia Child's 524 recipes over the course of one year and blog about it. Parallel scenes recount Julia Child's evolution from a woman who merely loved eating and couldn't cook an egg to one of the world's most celebrated French chefs.

This is the only movie I can remember seeing in which two couples were happily in love. I can't tell you how refreshing that was to see on a movie screen! The women's husbands were completely supportive, even in their darkest hours, which is never depicted in modern books or movies. I am blessed to have a husband like their's, though I didn't really know for sure that other such men existed.

This will sound over-the-top, but "Julie & Julia" brought tears to my eyes at least three times -- once out of empathetic sadness and twice out of joy.

I can't recommend this movie highly enough.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

A Philosophical Walker


A picture (taken from Google)of the Offa's Dyke trail.


I'd like to be a walker. Oh, sure, like any able-bodied person over 15 months of age, I CAN walk. I just avoid it -- especially in this heat, especially without the right shoes and the right weather and the right clothes...Especially at the end of the day when my feet are tired...I have a million excuses.

But I like the IDEA of walking, and when I actually do it, I like actually walking, too. I like seeing the details you miss seeing when you drive by, even at the neighborhood-friendly speed of 25 miles per hour.

In a 2002 op-ed piece published in the Deseret News, Bruce Northam recounted the experience of meeting a walker in Whales, where he had undertaken a 200-mile trek along Offa's Dyke, which separates that country from England. I was so charmed by the piece that I recorded the following excerpt in my book of quotations:

The roaming gene should not become out-selected over time. Walking never disappoints; it's a whimsical celebration of right now.

We met an elederly woman clutching wildflowers and asked, "Where are you going?"

She said, "I'm already there. I'm already there!"

So then we asked her, "What is the secret to a long and happy life?"

"Moments. Moments are all we get. A walker understands this."

Monday, August 3, 2009

What the Media Won’t Tell You about the American Health Care System

The following are the ten major points espoused in a report prepared by Scott W. Atlas, a senior fellow at the Hoover Institution and a professor of radiology and chief of neuroradiology at Stanford University Medical School

1. Americans have better survival rates than Europeans for common cancers.

2. Americans have lower cancer mortality rates than Canadians.

3. Americans have better access to treatment for chronic diseases than patients in other developed countries.

4. Americans have better access to preventive cancer screening than Canadians.

5. Lower-income Americans are in better health than comparable Canadians.

6. Americans spend less time waiting for care than patients in Canada and the United Kingdom.

7. People in countries with more government control of health care are highly dissatisfied and believe reform is needed.

8. Americans are more satisfied with the care they receive than Canadians.

9. Americans have better access to important new technologies such as medical imaging than do patients in Canada or Britain.

10. Americans are responsible for the vast majority of all health care innovations.

Here is a link to an article about John Stossell' 20/20 report on the Canadian health care system: http://newsbusters.org/blogs/brad-wilmouth/2009/08/01/abc-s-stossel-slams-socialized-medicine-finds-obama-expressed-interes

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Book Review: "The Uncommon Reader" by Alan Bennett


What a fantastic book! The Uncommon Reader by Alan Bennett was published in 2007, but I never heard anything about it until I stumbled upon a recommendation on my library's website. Tightly written and only 120 pages long, Bennett proves that brevity really is the soul of wit.

The title makes it sound like some sort of academic anthology, but it is the fictional account of how the current Queen of England discovers a love of reading late in life. It's full of political and literary satire and great insight into why people read and write...I've never read anything like it! It was definitely 'unputdownable' and extremely fun.

(I must warn gentle readers that the book has one extremly crass line in it, spoken by an advisor to the Prime Minister at the bottom of page 86, if you'd like to avoid it, as well as one bad curse word.)

Gone again...


I took Scott to the airport this morning to fly off to Boston. Although July would not be my preferred month to visit New England, I am more than a little bit jealous. Tonight he'll be at the Red Sox game courtesy of a software vendor, tomorrow he'll drive up the coast in his free time after meetings...maybe see a lighthouse. I'm picturing him at a restaurant wearing one of those ridiculous white plastic bibs eating a lobster. Ah, the life...

But life is good here, too. It's all attitude.

Which reminds me of a quote from Jeffrey R. Holland:NO MISFORTUNE IS SO BAD THAT WHINING ABOUT IT WON'T MAKE IT WORSE.

Isn't that the truth!

I caught myself just this morning complaining aloud about the heat while we were rushing around packing Scott for his trip. (STRESS + HEAT = COMPLAINING) I hate the heat! If I could live in a cave this time of year I really, truly would. Central air conditioning doesn't even cut it, though I'd be miserable without it. July and August make me yearn for Alaska. I am hot and fussy one sixth of the year!

But whining about it doesn't help. It really does make it worse.

I've been doing what I can to keep cool, like wearing my hair up off my neck. I've made gallons of fresh-squeezed lemonade, the official taste of summertime. It makes me feel Southern and reminds me to slow down and conserve energy. I've also been swimming a lot, alternately freezing and baking at the community pool. I close my blinds in the afternoon. I avoid going anywhere at all during the heat of the day.

Now to reduce half the irritation I need to stop complaining about it.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

More Sunday thoughts...

Our lesson in Relief Society today was about adversity. We looked at it from every angle, discussing what it is and why it happens, what we get from it and how we deal with it, etc. At one point the teacher asked, "Why does Heavenly Father allow us to suffer adversity?" (And some adversity involves actual suffering!)

For some reason, the board game Chutes and Ladders popped into my head. I played the game only a handful of times when I was babysitting in my neighborhood as a kid, so I had no idea I had actually 'learned' something from it. I didn't know it was stored away in my memory somewhere.

In the game Chutes and Ladders when you land on a square with a ladder on it, you can skip a whole bunch of other squares and climb the ladder to the next row, closer to the object of the game, which is called Home. On the other hand, when you come to a square with a chute on it, you slide backward and have to start over from the square you eventually land on.

Adversity can be like a ladder, providing a shortcut to learning true principles and developing important attributes. Growth happens almost exclusively when we are outside of our comfort zones, enduring things we would rather not have to endure. When we overcome any adversarial situation in our lives, our understanding increases and our empathy expands. We emerge from the trial with greater compassion and strength.

Adversity can also be like a chute, causing us to slide backward, making it difficult for us to find our footing.

Usually I think adversity is a little of both -- we slide backward initially, then we catch ourselves and remember.

Remember, remember - that word keeps surfacing in my study of spiritual things. It's difficult to hold all of the many divine attributes we want to emulate in our heads at one time. It's hard to remember all of the commandments, let alone live them. Thank goodness our lives are sufficiently long if we just keep making incremental progress...and avoid falling into slippery chutes.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Quotes on Beauty

Never miss an opportunity to see anything that is beautiful; for beauty is God's handwriting....a wayside sacrament. Welcome it in every fair face, in every fair sky, in every fair flower, and thank God for it as a cup of blessing. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

The perception of beauty if a moral test. - Henry David Thoreau

That which we feel as beauty we will one day know as truth. - Johann Schiller

The average woman would rather have beauty than brains because the average man can see better than he can think. - Unknown

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not. - Emerson

As we grow old, the beauty steals inward. - Emerson

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

More Pix of Sea Turtles

This is where I'd like to go conduct further research on sea turtles. I'll just need some sort of a grant...(It's actually the hotel on Maui where our friends stayed. Isn't it gorgeous?)


While they were there, they visited a marine biology center, where they were able to touch baby sea turtles on their first birthday. I liked this pictures because it shows their amazing eyes, which have three lenses or lids. Also it shows their amazing flippers and how they can't retract into their shells like land turtles can.


This is just a free swimming baby sea turtle. Martha said they can move really fast, but what I liked about the sea turtles in the Albuquerque Aquarium was how they just seemed to glide through the water without a care in the world.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Sea Turtle Sighting in Maui


A few months ago I blogged about sea turtles and how much I enjoyed watching them at the Albuquerque Aquarium. A friend of mine (who didn't know about my fascination with sea turtles and had not visited my blog) visited Hawaii in June and took this picture of a sea turtle, so I asked her if I could post it.


It's an amazng picture because sea turtles don't really have to stick their heads out of the water like that -- their nostrils are on top of their heads. It really does look like this turtle wanted Martha to take her picture. And isn't the water blue!


She may be forwarding other pictures of sea turtles to me, so I've made it a sub topic on the side bar of my blog for all of the sea turtle enthusiasts out there.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

A Poem for Sunday

My aunt's comment (on my last entry) about another Gerard Manley Hopkins poem prompted me to go read that one, called "Spring and Fall," again. It's very beautiful and very, very profound (like Aunt Cathy herself). Then I Googled and read a few other Hopkins poems, some of which I had not read before. (He burned most of his poetry -- maybe even all of his poetry -- when he became a priest, fearing that it was too vain, so his total body of work is not very large. He started writing poetry again at the request of his fellow clergy.)

Then I read this one for the first time in many years, and I thought today being Sunday it would be very appropriate to post it. It's called "God's Grandeur" and it's full of 'sprung rhythm' like "Pied Beauty." Hopkins' poetry is really very modern considering how long ago it was written.

God's Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil crushed.
Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade;
Bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell:
The soil is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs --

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent world broods
With warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Hide the Paper Clips

It occurred to me today that I have not written on this blog about some of my favorite things: office supplies.

Only a few people on the planet know that a trip to Office Max for me is like a day at the mall for most other women. I could go crazy there, or at any office supply store, and I often have.

I think it goes back to my childhood when I sometimes visited my parents' workplaces and marveled at the depth and breadth of their supply cabinets, which I often organized as a surreptitious way of taking inventory while staying out of trouble.

I couldn't believe they had all of these supplies at their fingertips -- boxes and boxes of pencils, pens, rubber bands and paper clips, with letterhead, staple removers, triplicate forms, and, in my mother's case, working at the airport, luggage tags and hand cancellation stamps. It was heaven! I could be entertained for hours in the room behind the ticket counter or at my father's secretary's desk rolling pages of paper into IBM Selectric typewriters or adding columns of numbers on a 10-key machine for the sheer fun of it.

It's still a thrill. When I go into my husband's office, I'm surrounded by temptations: bulldog clips and Post-It notes and manilla envelopes and colored cardstock...

I can't explain it -- I just have a weakness for office supplies.

But of course there is a quote behind all of this, and it's in French because it was originally coined by Napoleon when he established a post-revolutionary meritocracy:

"La carriere ouverte aux talents"
(The tools to him who can use them.)
(The literal translation is 'the job is open to the talented ones.' Thomas Carlyle
changed it to the above translation.)

An English teacher of mine introduced me to this phrase when we were studying a Gerard Manley Hopkins poem, Pied Beauty, which he wrote in 1877. We were discussing line 6 at the time. In my opinion, it's one of the greatest poems ever written:

Glory be to God for dappled things -
For skies of couple-color as a brinded cow ;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced - fold, fallow, and plough;
And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

Monday, July 6, 2009

My Take on Sarah Palin, Part II


Last fall when John McCain, the maverick, announced his selection of running mate Sarah Palin, another maverick, I wrote a blog about it almost immediately, which captured my first blush reaction to his choice. She was fresh and interesting. I went on to enjoy her hard-hitting speech at the Republican convention and some of her interactions with the press, who were relentless in their attacks against her.


They attacked her for:

- being a mother of five children ranging in age from 19 to newborn.

- being a religious woman.

- living in a small town.

- giving her children unusual names.

- having graduated from Idaho State instead of Harvard.

- not having enough ink in her passport.

- being from Alaska.

- having an accent.

- knowing how to field dress a moose.

- having a 'sexy librarian' look.

- not aborting her child born with Downs Syndrome.

- having a promiscuous teenaged daughter.

- not having enough executive experience (though she had more than Obama).

- wearing clothes that were paid for by the GOP (Democrat candidates like Hillary Clinton, and even their wives, like Michelle Obama, receive free designer clothes. Who among normal women, even governors, has a wardrobe suitable for a Vice Presidential run?)


Maybe the attacks worked. Sarah Palin disappointed. She wasn't as prepared as I had hoped. She wasn't as steeped in issues as I would expect a candidate to be. Though fundamentally she had the intangible 'right stuff,' she wasn't quite poised enough. (Think: Margaret Thatcher.) She wasn't quite serious enough. Faced with the most hateful media barrage I have witnessed in my lifetime, she allowed herself to become offended. She was easily distracted.


But who could blame her? If a bully were picking on just one of my children at school, I would create a stir. If grown up media moguls and pundits were hurling insults at my entire family, I would have to speak up in their defense.


She was never my first choice, not even for V.P. - I am a self-confessed Mitt-en. But I still like Sarah Palin and I still hope for her future, which I think is a lot brighter than her recent past.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

'Big Bad Bill Day'

Yesterday was 'Big Bad Bill Day,' as my sister-in-law calls it. It always seems to take longer than it should. I remember years ago watching a woman balance her checkbook at a stoplight, and I was impressed. For me it's a ritual and all of the conditions have to be just right. I chalk it up to PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) from our 'lean' years.



It's always a tremendous relief to be done!



Here are a few quotes I've found on the subject:



My doctor gave me six months to live, but when I couldn't pay the bill he gave me six months more. - Walter Matthau



When I die, my epitaph should read: She Paid the Bills. That's the story of my private life. - Gloria Swanson



Probably the very best thing my earnings have given me is absense of worry. I have not forgotten what it feels like to worry whether you'll have enough to pay the bills. Not to have to think about that any more is the biggest luxury in the world. - J. K. Rowling

Friday, June 26, 2009

Wealth Is a State of Mind


Two stories are coverging in my head today: Michael Jackson's premature death and Imelda Marcos's recent declaration that she is virtually penniless.


It appears that Michael Jackson really was penniless, though he didn't recognize it. He owed half a billion dollars, but remained a legendary shopaholic to the end, apparently oblivious to the reality of his situation. In his mind, if he liked it, he should own it, but due to that philosophy he actually owned nothing, because if he had lived long enough, he would likely have seen all of his purchases liquidated over time and his credit cards rejected. (I don't mean to blame MJ or even to criticize him. I see him as a tragic figure, a moonwalking, talking cautionary tale. Not quite a man, not quite a woman, not quite an adult, not quite a child...)


We all remember Imelda Marcos as the woman who owned 1220 pairs of shoes. Her husband, Ferdinand, ruled the Philippines for 20 years and plundered the treasury to the tune of billions of dollars while his people lived in extreme poverty. Of course they lost all of that and were exiled to Hawaii. A few years after Ferdinand's death, Imelda was allowed to return to her native Philippines, but she could no longer live in the Presidential Palace and many of her jewels were auctioned off by the state. Some of her remaining jewels are about to be sold to replenish the treasury, including a 150 carat diamond pendant that is as large as a human thumb.


But what I found most interesting about the AP story published this week is that Imelda regards herself as poor. She is now drawing from her husband's meager war pension while still wearing a 22-carat diamond ring. The most amazing quotes in the article are these two, both by Imelda: "Here I am, at 80, still struggling to look presentable" and "Filipinos are brainwashed to be beautiful. We're allergic to ugliness."


So wealth is a state of mind, and poverty is a state of mind, and money really has very little to do with happiness. Ordinary people who don't own extravagant homes all over the world or caches of jewels have to be reminded of this from time to time.

Monday, June 22, 2009

No More Backtracking


I've said it before on this blog - the first thought I have in the morning is usually the best (most original or insightful) thought I have all day. I don't know why, but it seems to be true.


Yesterday morning (Father's Day), I woke up thinking that I should slice the bread in half for French toast because it so often gets soggy in the middle, so I made French toast for Scott and it was much better that way. More crunchy surface, less sog.


Today's first thought was 'no backtracking.' I knew immediately what this first thought meant because I backtrack all the time, meaning that I skip something because I don't feel like doing it right now only to return later to do it anyway. So I spend my day backtracking and looping instead of steadily moving forward.


Today, for example, I didn't feel like making my bed immediately, but I did. I didn't feel like showering before eating breakfast, but I did. I didn't feel like lacing up my tennis shoes before eating breakfast, but I did. I didn't feel like going to the post office right after the grocery store, but I did. And I think my day has gone much better as a result.


Thursday, June 18, 2009

Back from Oregon








We've gotten a little rusty about road trips over the past year. Since our oldest son left on his mission, we've only ventured out of state to attend one family wedding, then we hurried quickly home again.

But last week we took off to attend my best friend's daughter's wedding in Seattle. On the way home, we made a loop along the northern coast of Oregon and through Portland, an area I had not visited since I was five and barely remembered at all.

And we tried to let ourselves have fun without our chief navigator in the backseat. For the most part, we succeeded. It was a great trip. (We did send Taylor a total of six postcards -- he was never far from our thoughts.)

Now that I've been home for almost two days, I find that I am reflecting back on the unfamiliar areas we traveled through. Here are some of my impressions of the Oregon part of our trip:

* I had expected coastal Oregon to be as modern and sophisticated as coastal California. It wasn't. It's an area unspoiled by chain stores, which gives it an almost primitive feel -- 1974ish -- like it hadn't really changed all that much since my previous visit in 1969. There were no storefronts putting on airs along the coast, no malls, no fancy boardwalks or elegant restaurants or ritzy hotels. It was all woods and ocean. The buildings along Highway 1 were coated in perpetually pealing paint. The boats we saw were weathered, too, and the people were regular people, susrprisingly friendly (given Oregon's reputation) and unpretentious.

So I liked the coast of northern Oregon. It was charming and natural and stunningly beautiful, but I wasn't quite at home there. (When we travel, aren't we subconsciously looking for new places to call home?)

* The buzz on Portland is how progressive it is (i.e., how environmentally sensitive it is.) It still has a bit of a hippie feel. (By the end of our visit, we had abbreviated the local bumper sticker to three initials: KPW for "Keep Portland Weird.") It was green and beautiful and very modern. We enjoyed three things in Portland: the rose garden (where most of the hundreds of visitors had their noses in flowers, prompting my husband to remark that we were behaving like bees); Powell's Book Store (the largest independently owned book store in the world; the sheer size of the place gave me renewed courage that maybe I could publish a book -- apparently millions of people already have!), and the incomparable Japanese Garden (the finest in the world outside of Japan.)

We passed several waterfalls and the Columbia River Gorge driving home, and it was all beautiful and awe-inspiring.

But deep inside I am still a girl from Kansas, and like Dorothy, the most famous girl from Kansas, I have to agree: There's no place like home! There's no place like home!

And that's true no matter where home is or what it looks like. (No matter how long the grass has grown or how high the laundry pile is or how dry and barren the landscape....)

It's good to be home!

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Just a quick quote note...

On Mother's Day I heard a talk with an elongated version of a quote I had long since memorized from John Ruskin (1819-1900). I liked the more complete quote and thought I would share it here:

This is the true nature of home — it is the place of Peace; the shelter, not only from all injury, but from all terror, doubt, and division. In so far as it is not this, it is not home; so far as the anxieties of the outer life penetrate into it, and the inconsistently-minded, unknown, unloved, or hostile society of the outer world is allowed by either husband or wife to cross the threshold, it ceases to be home; it is then only a part of that outer world which you have roofed over, and lighted fire in. But so far as it is a sacred place, a vestal temple, a temple of the hearth watched over by Household Gods, before whose faces none may come but those whom they can receive with love, — so far as it is this, and roof and fire are types only of a nobler shade and light, — shade as of the rock in a weary land, and light as of the Pharos in the stormy sea; — so far it vindicates the name, and fulfills the praise, of home. – John Ruskin

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Thoughts on Nostalgia and "Up" by Pixar


So I've been seeing a lot of movies lately, each one stranger and more action-packed than the last, but the movie selection all winter was so dismal you can't blame me for going to see three in one week, can you? Even at matinee prices, that's a lot of popcorn.




First we saw "Night at the Museum" (already reviewed) then "Star Trek" (enjoyed it, though I've never been a Trekkie), then "Up," the newest offering from Pixar. I've loved almost everything they've done. (Not too crazy about Ratatouille - other than the art! - or Cars, for whatever reason.) I had heard almost no press about the film and didn't know what to expect.




But I liked it. The problem is, I can't tell you anything about the premise of the movie, because that would spoil the story line, but I will say that at one point the old curmudgeon in the film (voiced by Ed Asner) lets go of all of his nostalgic artifacts from the past and frees himself to live in the now.




Which got me thinking about a statement I heard recently that really caught my attention: Nostalgia is self-destructive. I've been contemplating those words ever since and wondering if they could be true. I don't want to believe the statement is true, because I am a nostalgic/romantic person with all sorts of favorite memories, mementos, journals, photographs, letters, newspaper clippings...everything you could imagine, even an old pony tail (Well, that's really Scott's...well, I mean it's my pony tail, but it's his memento...)




I don't really want to believe that nostalgia is self-destructive, but a case could be made....All right, I think it probably is self-destructive in some ways.




I've done some research on the subject over the past couple of weeks. Cultural critic Susan Stewart said that nostalgia is "sadness that enjoys its own sadness." I don't think of nostalgia as sadness, but I do understand her meaning. She says that nostalgia is "a desire for comfort that blinds us to the urgent present." That's probably true as well.




What do I have to be so nostalgic about? Why am I thinking about this now? I think it has to do with our slowly emptying nest. (Having children over three decades and two millenia - 1989, 1991, 1995 and 2000 - makes for a very gradual but nonetheless emotionally taxing 'empty nest syndrome.' Heaven help Emily when she tries to fly the coop!)



I don't know what I can do about my tendancy toward nostalgia except try to live more in the present, savoring the here and now. That's why I loved the quote I shared last post from Jean Paul Sartre: "Mais it faut choisir: vivre our raconter" (But one must choose: to live or to remember.")


(It's interesting to note that the French philosopher Sartre started out as an avowed atheist. He actually wrote this depressing line: "Everything that exists is born for no reason, carries on living through weakness, and dies by accident." What a perspective! But after he matured he wrote: "I do not feel that I am the product of chance, a speck of dust in the universe, but someone who was expected, prepared, prefigured. In short, a being whom only a Creator could put here; and this idea of a creating hand refers to God." If Sartre had ever met the missionaries, it would have been a match made (literally) in heaven.)

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Book Review: The Herring-Seller's Apprentice


I haven't read a lot of mystery novels in my lifetime for the same reason I haven't seen a lot of horror movies -- I guess I just don't enjoy the sensation of being scared. But, intrigued with the synopsis on the back cover, I picked up a mystery at the library this week and devoured it. It's sooooo good! (And I wasn't scared once -- it's not that kind of book.)
The author, L.C. Tyler, is British, but I couldn't find any information on him/her (even a gender reference) at the publisher's web site. It is my personal suspicion that L.C. Tyler is a lot like one of the novel's most colorful characters, Elsie (L.C.?) Thirkettle, who edits the main character, Ethelred Tressider's, books. Ethelred makes his living writing mediocre mysteries and romances under three assumed names, but in reality his life is quite dull until his ex-wife goes missing and he is named the executor of her estate, which puts him in contact with all kinds of people from their shared past. Elsie, a choco-holic, shadows him on his rounds, trying to piece together what happened to Geraldine, whom she never liked anyway. Her interactions with Ethelred are hilarious! It's the very dry British humor throughout the book that makes every page a pleasure.
It's a short book -- just 206 pages. The characters are well drawn and all of the scenes are set with just the right amount of description, never too much. The mystery part was satisfying -- I didn't figure it out early on, though I did guess most of it before the very end.
Half-way through reading it, I hopped onto Amazon to see what other reviewers had said about it (confident that they had loved it, too) and found that there were none, so I wrote the first review. (It only recently came out.)
One caveat: being a British book, there is a little bit of language and some off-color references, but nothing too terrible. (I've been reading more modern British lit lately and I am always surprised by the offensive language -- I don't get it. But I think this book has much less language than most. It seems to have been peppered here and there like artificial seasoning.)
I just thumbed through the book to find a suitable passage to share, but in the interest of not divulging any of the plot, I will share only the opening quotation, which I love:
Mais il faut choisir: vivre ou raconter. -- Jean Paul Sartre
(But one must choose: to live or to remember.)