Been awhile since I've had a rant......

Things I'm ranting about this season: Divisiveness amongst citizenry and how the media seems to ignore slander and libel. I'm just saying...: if I were Van Jones, I'd be suing for defamation, or libel or slander. Maybe he's got more heart than I, but he shouldn't have had to leave his post.
Water; yes, it is illegal to collect rain water in the state of Colorado (and some others as well). I sure hope that citizens of CO put out their rain barrels and someone tests this law in the courts. The day that this government, or any state, can claim to own the rain is the day that I decide it just may be time to leave the country.
Built in Obsolescence: sick and tired of making purchases that are crap and break. From Aveda products to appliances - everything is made in China where it seems no one cares how well something is constructed. $150 coffee makers that break after 4 months, water filtration devices that last about 60 days, clothing that comes ready to shred..... if a business wants my dollar, they best start paying attention to engineering. I can build better stuff in my basement with duct tape and bubble gum.
Speaking of duct tape, why didn't BP send down the robot army and wrap the wellhead with freaking duct tape? It probably would've worked better than heavy mud or tennis balls. And if you buy gas from BP stations, or any BP affiliated products, then you are responsible for dead seabirds, oiled coastlines, and burnt sea turtles.
Accept your responsibility or get real.
Citizens United vs Fed. Election Commission: yes, this ruling by Roberts' conservative and misleaded supreme court was heinous. May we mention a tiny bit of silver lining to that cloud? It's easier to sue a citizen entity than it is to sue a corporation. Now we just need someone with deep pockets to file the first suit.

Tea Partiers, (I do prefer Teabaggers, it suits them), are personal agenda idiots.
They either will find a common agenda, or they will go the way of the Indiana Republican primary: too many candidates for a game of musical chairs. No one wins.
And Sarah Palin: an artifice (to say the least) created to further her own ambition while using everyone and everything around her.

The weather: HAWT. We told you so.
Water: expensive enough for you yet?

USDA Organic Food Certifications and Organic Sugar: Buy local. Know your food producers - visit their farms, volunteer to help so you can see what they do.
The organic label means little these days, it can be bought just like every politician out there (with the exception of maybe Russ Feingold).
STOP CUTTING DOWN RAINFORESTS TO GROW ORGANIC SUGAR - we see you. And we don't want to hear about how your sugar plantations are helping the poor of south america.
They'd be helped more if they were shown that sustainability and eco-tourism pays more than does sugar.

Sugar laden soda, fast food taxes: PLEASE do tax soda and fast food. It does nothing for human health to consume these things and if the garbage food was more expensive than REAL, HEALTHY food, people would eat healthier. When soda and greasy burgers are cheaper than a pound of broccoli or a sack of tomatoes, its a sure bet that folks will be eating cheap. If we can create laws against adults smoking while citing the health of children, then certainly we can remove sugary drinks and snacks from schools. I pay taxes and am tired of seeing kids who are so heavy they can run and play like a child should.

Lastly, will everyone please stop talking about RACISM. It isn't just racism that is the problem, it is discrimination against the poor, the disenfranchised, and the ignorant. It is politics of gender too and if you think I'm wrong consider this:
since 2008 when the economy tanked, more men have lost jobs and have had longer unemployment times than did women. What does this say about employment? The Lilly Ledbetter equal pay for equal work act was long overdue. What we should've seen coming was the response of business to Lilly Ledbetter: fire the men who make larger salaries, hire more women (for lower start wages), wait until the men are really hungry and offer them jobs at wage women previously earned. Now everyone makes the same salary and no one got raises.
Thanks big business! We knew we could leave it to you!

Since when can corporations cast votes?

So I am watching Keith Olberman ranting about the fact that "major news organizations" were too busy reporting on John Edwards' love child" and basically ignored the Supreme Court striking down the McCain-Feingold Campaign Finance Reform legislation by declaring that Corporations are essentially "ENTITIES", and as such as entitled to free speech under the constitution?

I am speechless. I am thoroughly convinced that the U.S. government should be declared legally insane. What do our tax dollars get spent on? One branch of government circumventing the will of another branch of government. And the tax payer once again gets the shaft. We can now count on corporate interests subverting every campaign they can with their dollars.
Perhaps they'll use the money they saved on raising working womens wages to match male workers wages to finance their own campaigns of lies, innuendo and mud slinging.

Rant du Jour - FREE Gifts

About 9 months ago I began receiving US WEEKLY magazine in the mail. Funny, I didn't (and wouldn't) subscribe to that kind of trash. But there it was in my mailbox every week. At first, I tried to get the USPS to send it back saying there must be some kind of mistake. The USPS is not interested in stopping mail that is delivered in error - they are interested in keeping their jobs - so no help from the USPS.
Knowing that US Weekly is the kind of junk that most of my neighbors would enjoy, I started giving it to a neighbor who lives on gossip about celebrity culture. Over time, I got tired of taking it to her mailbox - it isn't like it was a quality gift or something I was giving her, but it did warrant at least a HELLO when our paths crossed.

So, over the months, I simply took to tossing the magazine into the recycling bin. Unread. I mean, who cares about so and so's 6 pack abs? I got stuff to do.
Then, I started receiving bills from US Weekly.

Getting billed for trash made me angry. I began a campaign with email messages. To be fair, I guess there was a response - automated. Still, the trashy rag kept showing up in my mailbox.
I started again with second campaign. Hunting for the magazine's impressum only took most of 10 minutes as it is barely there - buried on the last page, at the bottom of the page, in tiny font, is the legally required impressum. But there isn't any good contact info.... hmmmm.
Online I find that there is a hint that US Weekly may be owned by Rolling Stone Magazine. What a huge letdown. An institution from my contemporaries - and here it is, the owner of celebrity soft porn.

Finally! I get a phone number. I call US WEEKLY. 3 Days later I am no closer to finding out where US Weekly got my name, who started the subscription, etc.
I try again, this time threatening legal action. AHA! Someone with a pulse and connecting synapses on the other end of the phone! And yes, my "subscription" was initiated by...... LIVE NATION TICKETING.
WTF!?????
Yes, well I did buy tickets for Michael Franti and Spearhead last January from LiveNation. Those same tickets barely paid the band - most of the charges were taxation/entertainment fees, administration fees, and fees on fees because it seems to be a good idea. As if Live Nation wasn't making enough money as middleman on fees alone - they had to sell my name (or add it to their corporate marketing list).
So, does Rolling Stone own Live Nation? How is Live Nation tied in to US Weekly?
Will I ever buy another fecking concert admission from Live Nation? I think I'd rather pull out my toenails with a tweezer.

BTW, the "subscription" is canceled. At least I won't be subjected to naked torsos and 6 pack abs as I reach for the Hagan Daz and wish that winter was over.

So How Callous am I?

America empties its collective pockets for Haitian earthquake victims. Faster than you can say "Katrina", tens of millions of dollars have been collected to enrich the coffers of corporations such as Pepsi (Aquafina) and Coke (Dansani), those ubiquitous suppliers of bottled water. Never mind the empty bottles, what about the carbon footprint just getting it distributed, whether in Haiti or Honolulu?
A moot point you say in the face of the suffering in Haiti. But, Haitians have been suffering for years; mostly from different forms of exploitation - colonial or governmental (or lack thereof). What have Americans been seeing for all these years if Haiti seems to be a new problem? American Idol hasn't been on all that long....

So, what exactly is my beef other than with CocaColaCorp and PepsiCo? Maybe it has something to do with our ostrich like belief that bottled water can save a nation in distress while we do nothing to conserve the water that we bequeath to the next generations. Perhaps my callousness stems from my belief that rather than the empty promises of the spiritual hereafter, organized religion has done nothing for desperate countries like Haiti, other than with hold birth control and reproductive choice.

Over population is a looming issue with implications that many nations have yet to understand. If times be tough now, imagine how tough they'll get in the future when rich nations find that water is so expensive we hoard it for ourselves alone.

As we viral humans expand to all reaches of the planet, we displace the niche life that has developed in our absence. Ever where humanity walks, nature suffers.

While we extend our generosity toward the stricken of Haiti, how can we assure that population that it can go forward? Do we rebuild their world with the same technologies that have devastated ours? Or do we add insult to injury by delivering on the same empty promises that we make to the next generations?
What hope for Haiti when we can't seem to reach out to our own future?

To answer a question which I don't think is anyone's business; No, I have not donated to Haitian Disaster Relief. But I have donated to International Programs dedicated to conserving wetlands and aquifers. I donate money to conserve land where wild things can thrive - not to build tent cities and support corrupt political systems.

The people of Haiti should project their anger where it is deserved, on their own government, not the international effort to bring them aid. The people of Haiti perhaps have lived on "island time" too long and allowed their regimes to dictate their expectations.
If civil unrest can unseat efforts to assist the dying and sick, why not direct that same anger at the people who allowed a nation to sink into such despair in the first place? If Haiti is to survive and rebuild, it will be through the efforts of Haitians, not relief efforts.

The Universe, playing tricks of Irony

And to think, by the time Scott Brown appeared butt nekkid in Cosmopolitan, I had quit reading it because it had become insipid.
Yesterday, the universe decided to play the ultimate trick of irony on the millions of people who have waited years for better access to health care: a Republican actually took the state of Massachusetts' Senate seat. Kind of goes to show how narrow it is to think that it's always about "location, location, location". Although, even I was a bit surprised at the end to see that Boston isn't a Democratic town anymore. Nope, it won't be business as usual.

It is a blow to many who have waited patiently for regulation, or just access to health care, not to mention so many who will simply 'fall through the cracks' because their situation is not dire enough to 'merit' statistic. America routinely sacrifices its elders on the altars of youth; today, "retirement" is forced before access to Medicare is possible. With unemployment continuing to rise, fewer and fewer Americans will be able to afford health care just when they find they need it most.
If I believed in conspiracy, I'd be adding this one to the list. It all smacks of employers using ageism to oust workers, reducing health care costs, just at a time when the workers' health begins to decline.

And all because the FEW wish to control reproductive issues, keep their portfolios healthy with a still viable investment option, and, don't trust their government enough to submit to a plan instituted by same.

We can raise tens of millions of dollars for relief efforts in Haiti where the local government is all but invisible in the face of the disaster (and have let the people of Haiti down yet again); but we can not accept any change to our own tax status long enough to endow everyone in our own country with access to health care.

America is full of enigmas, not the least of which is its' citizens.

Take Care with What You Wish For ....

To establish my personal belief: every person who does a specific job should be paid the same for their work regardless of gender, race, religion, etc. Equal Pay for Equal Work was a no-brainer, long overdue, and a lay down victory for the Obama administration.
But, could anyone have foreseen the effect that HR 2831 would have on the American workforce during the last 18 months?

In August 2006, it was reported by the Institute for Women's Policy Research (IWPR), that: "Women’s Employment Falls More Than Men’s In Wake of Hurricanes
IWPR Report Finds Deep Segregation in Gulf Coast Labor Market by Sex and Race". While female workers took the hard hits in 2006 (without the benefit of HR 2831), the same can not be said for our current unemployment rate.
The New York Times (NYT) reports that while layoffs surge, women are surpassing men in the workforce.
How very convenient for corporate policy to see that it is easier to fire all the men than it is to raise the women's salaries to that of their male counterparts.

As an old adage goes, be careful what you wish for, you never know how the universe will conspire to bring it all about.

I sincerely hope that American men won't be expected to be compensated in the future as they were in the past. No, their status as workers has now been lowered to the same as women had held exclusively before Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act.
Yes, men and women alike will now earn the same money for the work they do. And the corporations will have found another loophole in which to leap for shareholder profits.
Never mind that without the worker, there are fewer consumers.

Old Dogs Learning New Tricks

I wasn't much interested in setting up a Twitter account prior to the June elections in Iran. Like much of the International community, I found the news coverage of the rallies in Iran, before the elections, to be a sign of movement from Nationalism towards International citizenship.
Much of the West ignores the reality of Muslim divisions, sect differences, and, most importantly, of political moderation, or lack thereof. For those of us who make a point of exercising our planetary citizen status, all of the elections, from Lebanon to Honduras have been interesting to watch, as well as thought provoking.
In America, the election of Barack Obama as president signaled a shift of power from European ancestry based control, to immigrant and youth control. For me, as well as so many others, this was refreshing as well as invigorating.
The potential for similar shifts of voting blocks in other nations is great. For instance, in Israel, Arabic Israelis and Palestinians in Israel will soon out number Hebrews. The significance of that is enormous as Israel's leaders may have figured out with their willingness to now discuss the "two state solution". In many ways, like other pundits, I see it as too late for Israel to offer the two state solution to Palestine. Palestine, if current population growth trends continue, will undermine its position by accepting toe "too little, too late" two state solution. If Israeli Jews wish to remain the majority party in Israel, they will have to enforce draconian voting laws, keeping Palestinian and Arabic Israelis from the polls.
The educated populations of our world are settling more comfortably into the role of international citizen. They realize that without moderate and tolerant views, Humanity may not be able to survive on our planet. That without compromise and clear goals from all nations, we probably can not solve our biggest problems such as climate change, poverty, water and energy demands.
What happened in Iran was not in vain. Another mindset has emerged in the Muslim nations that is not about condemnation or control of or through, religion; it is about proper stewardship of resources so we can continue to work toward alleviating poverty, ignorance, disease and intolerance. Sooner or later, the will of the majority will be impossible to ignore and the people who feel disenfranchised by election results, will be moved again to shift the balance of their power.
What happened in Iran caused me to Twitter. What happened in Iran made me think about what happened in America in 2000 when Bush, Rove and Cheney stole the election for president and were successful at their bloodless coup. Instead of taking our passions and protests to the street when we were told that the recounts were illegal and the will of the people was invalidated, we retreated to our living rooms and to the safety of the media propaganda dream machines. Considering the Iranian people who left their homes and possessions to voice their outrage at their government and were dealth with extremem violence, while Americans were threatened with labels such as "Traitor", or "Terrorist"; and decided not to risk their material comfort to accuse the Bush regime, I have once again been humbled by the resilience of the human spirit.
No, Iran, your protests were not in vain. Next time, you will need a leader, a true Leader who will take you all the way to the seat of your new democracy (if that, indeed, is what you choose). In the meantime, gather your wits, re-examine your purpose, and prepare for the next opening - for surely it will come.

Bird-ness

I don't write about my "kids", Sunkist and Mojo because, well, I would rather play with them than spend time writing about them. Looking at that last sentence, I realize that I am playing 'chicken' - I don't write about the parrots because I don't want to seem mushy and silly and 'bird-brained'. I also think that committing things to words diminishes some of the magic of what goes on.
I just spent 24 hours reading "Wesley the Owl" by Stacey O'Brien, and I've come to realize that perhaps I should write about my relationships with the birds - anyone who spends so much time with their companions, has insights that can be useful, and endearing, to others.
Sunkist is my love. He came from a big box pet store and the decision to allow myself to fall in love with him (thus buying him) was made unconsciously. I had been haunting pet stores and taking sketch pad and pencil with me to draw parrots. I was always interested in their anatomy - and once I began to learn about wild birds, parrots seemed a natural progression. What I never counted on was how much I could love such a tiny bundle of feathers. Sunkist is now 9 years old and it is human nature to think of the future. To think that he will not be with me forever is a dark spot I'd rather not explore.
Mojo is the baby. She is difficult to deal with sometimes as she is now coming into sexual maturity. She is a different kind of conure than Sunkist is; smaller and even anatomically different. Mojo has a kind of smell about her that has gotten better since she first came into our lives. She is nippier than SUnkist ever was - she did not love me like Sunkist did (before I ever brought him home). But I love Mojo almost as much as I love Sunkist - she is sweet in her own way, and she is very responsive to affection and patience.
Sunkist, fell in love first with my hair. As a 'bappy' he would nestle into my hair and poop down my back. I loved the nestling and would put up with the poop for that sweet snuggling. Sunkist began talking quite soon after coming home.
It's said that parrots mimic rather than reason - those platitudes are obviously uttered by people who don't have parrots living in their home.
Parrots reason, logic and then express themselves in a manner which a human companion can not explain away as mimicry.
Parrots wind themselves in a tight loop around your heart and not even the most passionate human lover could be as intuitive about emotion as my Sunkist.

Overcrowding? Or new extended families?

Much has been said about our society being bereft of the benefits of extended family.
With the necessity of dual incomes, many parents find that getting their kids into day care, often premium day care, is beyond their economic reach.
But America, as well as urban Europe has fallen under the spell of promised personal space, and privacy. Not only do we find it convenient to have others care for the kids while we work, often many middle aged people find themselves putting their parents into nursing homes or assisted living for the same reasons.

2008 heralded a trending change in these habits as the economy collapsed and many middle aged working people found that their adult children were losing their jobs, and with the jobs, their homes, and finding a need to return to 'the nest'.

Americans deride immigrant families that 'crowd' living spaces. Americans find it inconceivable that married adults share a bedroom with their children, and sometimes, parents. Apartments rented with the idea that they hold 2 or 3 people oftimes are home to 8 or 10 people. In rental cases, this is enough to get a family evicted.

Much of suburban, and some urban, areas have thrived as communities with Homeowner Associations. As such, the Associations build into their organization sets of covenants with hopes that by enforcing same, property values in these areas can be maintained, and often made to increase. these covenants often adjudicate the number of residents allowed in a home. They stipulate that a single family house be a specific size, with space for a set number of vehicles, and have governance controlling land usage.
As families weather the financial crisis around the globe, they find it convenient, and sometimes necessary, to move in one house together to offer support during unemployment, as well as care to children and aging parents.

In some circumstances, if people made these choices freely, without the pressure of joblessness or economic hard times, they would be considered to be pioneering a new age of extended family, and applauded by sociologists. While in Homeowner Associations, situations such as these can lead to restrictions on how a owners property is used - rendering an extended family pariah.

Sometimes change comes about not because of serious contemplation, but of financial necessity. That is the case in what is now becoming a growing trend in families which are living under one roof.
Can we not simply accept that as our society changes, we begin to see habits which had no place in our community before? If we can applaud those who make decisions freely, without pressure, can we not applaud, or at least be empathetic towards those who make decisions based on economic need?
It is time we stop oppressing what is often viewed as de-evolution. It is instead, time to consider that combining families under one roof is not only conserving resources (and money), but it is enriching the very families who thought they were moving in together out of financial need rather than social commentary.

Lets all get together for a big Group Hug!

Are we humans wired to be part of a clique? Is it essential for us to form group identities and rely less on our individuality?

I've been playing around in a rather large community for the last six months. It is tied to one of those Ask.com websites which were, as I understood it, originally begun as a jump point for researchers. Well, as it goes, the site has, or actually was when I joined, a big group of cliques which play off each other for fun, or, depending on your point of view, fan the flames of divisiveness.

I am actually having a hard time sticking to my goal of hanging with the site for the length of a year. This is not an uncommon goal in my observations of culture and people. Once I decided to spend 1 year watching 2 soap operas trying to understand the phenomenon. I can't say that I ever got much insight from that experiment, but I did stick it out (which says quite a lot about the state of Question and Answer websites.

It is interesting to note that regardless of the community, one will always find scammers, cons, frauds, spammers and predators. I, myself, having had a bit of a run in now and then with those kind of people, tend to stay out of situations which divulge any personal information about myself. Yet, I am always surprised at how people who profess to be so smart are so quick to accept some contrived story from a person they do not know.

In less than 6 months, I have come to recognize that the site is mostly insipid stuff - questions asked with hopes that 'friends' will raise said question into hierarchy by assigning 'points'. The questions do not have to be important, relevant or even interesting. They simply have to catch the attention of other people who have "points" to give away.
Now I find this a sad state of affairs -- research is limited to websites like WIKI which is also contributed to by people like me, some benign, some clique-ish who might, or might not, have anything useful to add to an entry.
What happened to the days of using the internet to research "real" topics, administrated by "real" professionals? Have they all been delegated to subscription websites? Is it really true that in order to access real information, a person has to pay for it?

Subrubia Is Swell

What's so great about living in the suburbs anyways? It might be a nice place to raise a family; the streets are quieter and assumed, safer. The houses are roomy and allow for personal space. The yards are large, rather private, and nice for kids to play in.
The schools are often better (depending on tax base). Suburbs generally have convenience shopping, can be walkable, and, in the case of Homeowner Associations, there is a certain level of control that exists in how homes, yards and space is maintained.
But America's suburbs, like much of the rest of our country, are homogenized. The ubiquitous fast food emporiums are draws to busy working parents. Play time for kids is often confined to Gymboree establishments that promise play, music and fun - and can be compared to every other Gymboree across the country.
Life in the suburbs is convenient, and if a family finds that it needs to relocate for one reason or another, to hop from suburb to suburb is not so different or alien.

Life in the suburbs is mundane. Culture is non-existant on a real level. Oh, each suburb may have a town center, with an art gallery or two, fabric shop, craft store (more chains), an intimate little dining establishment.

One can be certain that life in the suburbs will throw few 'curve balls'. In other words, there won't be too many surprises. If the suburb is chosen based on socio-economic factors (and most of them are), the potential resident is apt to find a suburb which leans towards their own religious, political, and financial mores. Neighbors will live in a house just the same as the next house; they will attend church in the community; children will all attend the same schools; and most of the residents will vote for the same candidates.
There will be very little in the way of independent thinking.
Perhaps this is desirable to the parents of young children who wish to shelter their kids from the "big bad world" and the people who live in it. It is easier to control your children's direction when you can control who they see, where they go, what is available to them. Safety for kids is great when the children are young. But without independent thought, without outside challenges to their morals, their beliefs and their education, how can we expect those same kids to grow into self sufficient, innovative, creative, adults?

Growing up in a large city presents so many risks for young people. I remember the first times I saw, or was the target of, a "flasher", and the response of my parents when I inquired about the motives of such a person. I also recall living across the street from a city park where community theater, art classes and physical activity were available to me each day. I learned to ice skate at a city park, I learned to play softball, I was in small theater productions, I created mini-masterpieces in art class. I also recall growing up knowing that a number of my neighbors were 'gang members' who hung out at the park at night. These were often the big brothers of our neighbors; and contrary to what one might think, these same gang members were often the people who looked out for us littler kids.
I developed a unique sense of independence as a kid being able to ride city buses.

In Response to Censorship, Responsibility, Self Esteem

In response to someone anonymous who commented on "Tits Up"; I was happy to see you leave a link and to hear comments from someone in the business (so to speak) of physicality.
I know of a young woman who is a dancer who spends the bulk of her money on clothes from VS ... more power to her - as long as this is what she choses to do - from an informed mind set.
I think you missed a bit of my point - most of my beef with VS is not that they sell a dream to those who can't get off without one; it's that the dream is being sold only to humans who like women. Women who like men can only have ribald "Fun" if they go to Chippendales? Where are the male eye candy in the store front windows, in "Fashion Shows", or on TV? If a male is shown in some sort of stage of undress, it is generally a joke aimed at his workman's smile.

I am pissed at what looks like backsliding to this old feminist.

No one ever said that this should not be allowed, or that should not be allowed. Isn't it misogyny to only find safety in the exploitation of women? Yeah, the old question always was and probably always will be: If the woman choses to exploit herself for money, isn't her own business? Yes, I say it IS her business - as long as it is her business alone, not that of her pimp. As long as she has explored her options and she feels that the occupation of sex worker is for her - then by all means - work away at an honorable and needed profession.
However, there is no balance to how our society views sex, gender and open minded pleasure. No, it is doled out by a culture that does so in a puerile fashion - giggly, behind the hands, look at me be "naughty", exhibitionism.
How droll.

RE VS: Someone is going to exploit those with low self esteem - it might as well be VS or someone else will or is already doing it too. The sad fact is that no one should be made to feel that they are less valued because of their body.

As my spouse always likes to say "There is an ass for every saddle".
If a person is concerned that they do not have a 'partner' who loves them, they must first examine who THEY themselves are before they can look for that partner who completes them.
Yes, you stated it; taking responsibility for being a WHOLE them and being happy with that whole person.

Not to change the subject, but yes, to change the subject:
Do you find that religion allows people to NOT be responsible for who they are - after all, no matter who they are or what they do, they have been 'saved'?

Gender Disrespect, or Low Self Esteem?

Why are so many people dis-satisfied with who they are?

After numerous false starts to this blog post, I open with the above question: is it true self dis-satisfaction, or is it reactionary immediacy that brings people to spend huge amounts of money, and risk unhealthy side effects by changing their looks?

With sarcasm and humor I approached this topic because as a woman of middle years I too find that I spend more time being concerned with this wrinkle or that streak of gray in my hair. I often justify this by saying I have lived with this face and hair for 55+ years and I am taking observant steps at retaining the looks that I have appreciated all of my life. Yet is are my small vanities the same as augmentation or full plastic surgery? Is taking care of what you have the first steps to altering who you are? I personally don't think so - I think there is a line to be drawn between keeping up your appearance and altering it because you can not stand to live in your body.

Is it disrespect for gender that rushes women to breast enhancement? Is it disrespect that makes people think that they must look one way or another? I recently watched a program about employment opportunities in China. The program followed one young professional woman who believed that she had reached the Chinese equivalent of the glass ceiling in her career. The reasons had nothing to do with her gender, they had to do with her appearance. The woman profiled believed that the competition in the work place was so fierce, in order to get ahead in her field, she would need to have exceptional looks. In Chinese white collar hierarchy, that translates to "a more Western look". The woman in the program under went plastic surgery to improve her skin, give her eye folds more of a westerners look. She also had extensive cosmetic surgery done to her mouth, so her 'bite' would not be so prominent.

The problems of dis-satisfaction with who we are are not confined to the United States. Plastic surgery and body enhancement is a bigger business in Asia than in the USA or Europe. How did the Chinese so quickly come to the same spot as American woman have? Is it pursuit of money that makes people desperate to conform to whatever the populist concepts of 'beauty'?

Does this have anything to do with beauty at all?

No one, especially when young, is perfectly happy with how they look. People with curly hair pay to straighten it. People with straight hair pay to curl it. People with too little hair seek to thicken it, those with lots of hair seek to reduce it.
And no one likes their body when it first goes into bloom. However, many of us grow to appreciate who we are, we like our small physical idiosyncrasies, we embrace our individuality. Once we develop our own sense of style, we become more ourselves.
We do not understand how so many people can be searching for the perfection that is truly, nonexistent.

It is difficult to ask of Americans, who have been pampered for decades from whence comes this dis-satisfaction when China, the land of equality for all comrades has fallen prey to the same problems. If China was not able to instill self worth in it's citizenry, how can it be expected of 'gotta have it now' Americans?

Tits Up

Somehow the topic of TITS has been pretty high on the list of many people these days.

My friend Staci Backauskas of Tampa emailed to talk about something she was working on, an essay about a promotion being done on either a TV or radio station in Tampa FL. The promo, actually a contest, has the dubious title of "Jingle Jugs".
Apparently, 12 "lucky" women will be chosen from all entrants, to receive breast augmentation, just in time for the Holidays!

Where to start, where to start....

A local group of concerned mothers, calling themselves The Carmel Moms, have appealed to Victoria's Secret to tone down the soft porn look of their display windows in a local walking mall. The "Moms" are concerned because they do not wish to explain the clothing on the mannequins in the store windows to their toddlers or preteen kids. The Moms also believe that while trying to teach their kids sexual values, it is hard to do so when sex and what to wear when or to have sex is confronted by those same kids in the ubiquitous store front windows. Personally, censorship is a touchy issue. I don't like being censored and our constitution says that we all have the right to free speech. I am not sure if that right extends to inappropriate clothing choices being flaunted in malls though. My take on this is if the clothing can't be worn in the mall, then it doesn't belong in the store window at the mall. It is inappropriate attire for that time and place - so why market it out in the open. Surely, every adult man and woman knows that Victoria Secret sells intimate apparel.
They also know that if someone wants to pump up their tits, (or lack of them), they can buy just such a product at Victoria's Secret (VS). I have never been able to purchase anything from VS other than panties. But since I can buy a half dozen pair of panties at a department store for what one pair from VS costs, I don't shop at VS. Not personally having a lack of breast, I don't need a pump up bra. VS is, in my opinion, one step away from having breast augmentation. It is a cry from women who feel they have missed the tit bus to get on board.

Why is it that so many people are so utterly dis-satisfied with their own selves that they would endanger their lives with breast implants anyways? And when did immediacy take precedence over common sense? Will those same plastic surgeons that implant fluid filled bags in the chests of American women also help those same women hold those droopy bags up in 15 years? Will they help those women deal with backaches that come from tits that are too big? Or will they help with the medical costs when those bags deteriorate and fill the chest cavity with saline solution or silicone?

Now we'll take this one step further: recently I read a blog by someone who said "I am now officially a FATTY. At 150 pounds I now qualify as a FAT person". Is this idiot for real? Well yes, HE is. He is considered part of obese America at 150 pounds. Now, honestly, the author did not say how tall he was. Unless he was REALLY short, there is a chance that he isn't fat at all. He is simply succumbing to the labels being applied to those of us walking the earth whose thighs touch each other. Or who have tits, or hips or an ass. I am not talking about people who can't get up because they are considered by the medical professions as "morbidly obese". I am talking about real people - people who might be five and a half feet tall and weigh about 150 pounds. 150 pounds on someone of that height is about a size 12, maybe a 10. Until recently, a size 12 was considered NORMAL.
My conspiracy soaked mind has begun to believe that "FATTY" is a label invented by people who used to be called things like BEANPOLE, or SKINNY, or TOOTHPICK, or QTIP.
Yeah, you people who are SOOO 'thin' are still beanpoles. And how funny are you all going to look with tits as big as mine perched on your chests?

Why is it that when I walk into a womans clothing store, I can not find shirts or 'tops' that are cut generously enough for my tits? My tits are not humongous. They are cup size C. Yet, stores such as J. Jill do not carry tops that button over my tits. Clothing THAT HUGE must be ordered from the catalog. Hey, come one - are you stores afraid some fucking beanpole is going to come in and be offended that you sell clothes for FATTIES? Can someone tell me where all the breast augmented women are going to be shopping? If a cup size C is just too big to stock in a retail store, where will all the DD cup enhanced women get shirts to cover those jingle jugs?

Are Americans so disenchanted with intellect that they willingly trade it in for foolishness? Is what we are, less important than how we look? What about liking yourselves? Is that too much to ask? Can we please stop dissing those with things we'd like to have, as being less than we are - even as we scurry about trying to lay our hands on those very things we have laughed at and labeled? BTW, keep your hands off my tits as you hunt for the perfect pair. I may not have much use for them, but they're mine and I like them and have never wished for others. I could hope the same for you and yours but my gut tells me that this is just the beginning.

Next, we'll talk about face lifts - you know, those things ALL the celebrities (and the wanna be celebrities) are getting which make them look like their made of plasticine, or at best, like they are suffering from Bells Palsy.

Plague then and now

What more can the ancient past teach us about our future? Plague in medieval times was the pandemic that people fear now and media uses as scare tactics.
Often archaeologists work in quiet solitude rendering the minutia of artifacts into living and breathing history.
With the advent of DNA gathering and study, archaeology is a whole new field of study - one that may give us insight into how some populations fair better than others in the face of pandemic.

http://www.archaeology.org/0711/abstracts/blackdeath.html

Still Happy to Not be a "Mother"

Some anonymous person left a comment on my poem "Mother's Day" about how sad it was that I did not have love in my life and could write a poem such as that.
Here's a bit of news for you: I am still glad not to be a mother. And that has nothing to do with being loved or loving in return.
If all of your life is wrapped up in children, then I feel sorry for YOU. You have never self actualized.
Additionally, these days, it is almost irresponsible to procreate because you need love. The world is already over populated with people who can't or won't admit that they are using resources faster than they can be replenished.
So the next time you want to sit in judgment of someone else's choices regarding having and making children, consider what you can do to alleviate overpopulation, over use of natural resources and how you intend to afford to raise kids in todays climate of Bush Economics.

The New Collosus - 2007

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me:
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
~ Emma Lazarus

Give me your hungry, your tired your poor I'll piss on em
Thats what the statue of bigotry says
Your poor huddled masses, lets club em to death
And get it over with and just dump em on the boulevard
~ Lou Reed, from "Dirty Boulevard"

1
Oh Land of plenty and home of the free
that gave birth to pilgrims and innovators,
opening horizons to children of the blessed, like me:

Where is your mercy, your compassionate acceptance
of those huddled masses and homeless
now echoing with hushed tones of grievance?

The veneer is fading from the face of our fathers
as the rich get richer and the poor get their
tongues ripped out in the wave of profiteers and new fuhrers -

which the "greatest" generation fought to eliminate.
Where is the compassion which opened the arms of
the new colossus whose lamp no longer illuminates?

Hunger and illness litter streets once paved with gold
empty eyes and hearts filled with despair and longing
for a land of milk and honey which made them emboldened

to cross rivers and oceans, risk death and separation
only to land on cold shores with little opportunity
outside what was left behind and abandoned.

Raise your lamp high, perhaps the light will blind
those coming to these shores to look for a living wage
and conditions better than substandard , or red-lined

by industry and cheap labor. In fields and in factories
they toil for their family's well-being
picking lettuce and grapes and strawberries

thin, polished women in large SUVs shop at upscale
markets in communities manicured by the sweat
of their brows. For minimum wage they daily travail

while at night suburbanites sleep in sheets of percale
believing they've brokered the best price for labor.
Elected officials seek to assail

the tenuous hold on life immigrants have,
talk of walls and guards and jail
for those who believed what lady liberty promised as salve

for the dispossessed. This nation, sweet land of liberty,
now bought with the currency of the elite,
no room in the melting pot for a new decree.

Part 2
The children of our nation now outfitted for war
by lying politicians and corporations anxious
for stock holder accountability, greed, to the core;

of values once held in highest esteem
parlayed like collateral in a new economy
that buries all thought of the American dream.

Alone on a proscenium stage of inspection
by past allies, and those forced into
subjugation, now at war with the bedouin,

replacing one monster with another, civil
war and death to economies in the name of
oil and sweet inside contracts, wearing the laurel

wreath of failure. Young people promised higher
education in exchange for their homage to flag
and memory. In sand and death they become mired

in your new democracy ideals and citizens believe
what is expeditious today, false security and
homeland pork spending in the name of what can be achieved

in that land of sand and sun and sunni / Shiite self hatred.
Blood and red hand prints of women and children
printed on walls, like graffiti left from hennaed

sorrows. While in Cuba, subterfuge and torture
seeks to pull secrets from prisoners like thorns from feet
while denial of human rights float free of the zephyr

of news. Hide the coffins of the dead
returning home; cover them with flags that will not
wave in a vacuum of dissent and dread.

What cost our democracy to the world?
To citizens lost because of vendetta
ultimately, what flag will show unfurled

in this new world order?
In the new democracy?
In the darkness now descended upon us?

***

"My country 'tis of thee
sweet land of liberty
of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From every mountainside
Let freedom ring!"
~ Samuel Smith

Lasting Impressions

Before sunrise, with walking stick in hand, I begin to hike the trail leading to the pond's bridge. Brushing large, be-dewed spider webs from the path, I lighten my footsteps so as not to frighten the sandhill cranes into flight. The morning air smells 'peat-y': I notice a new path cutting across the trail and into the bog. Long, pale hairs stick to brush stands waterside. Somewhere, a white tail deer is splashing across the flowage.
Approaching the bridge I slow my steps knowing there are two crane 'colts' somewhere in the tall grass. As the sun vigorously comes up, it lights the young, tight headed cat-tails decorated with still sleeping dragonflies. Sleeping there, the dragonflies' emerald eyes do not close but glint with an green iridescence in the sun.

I take a seat on a large rock on the west side of the bridge, the silence is tangible. Splashing on my left in the deeper part of the pond are pickerel; they are heading to the lake; their journey is a slow one across shallow creeks which disappear into dark stands of cedar. Somewhere on a farm over a mile away, a rooster voices indignation.

The Door County peninsula is a rock outcrop of granite and limestone insulated between the shores of Lake Michigan and the bay of Green Bay. At it's very tip, it says hello to lake Superior; this is where it gets it's name: Death's Door - watery graveyard for many ships.
A decade or so ago, some enterprising group of naturalists began an experiment to determine how water is exchanged from Green Bay to Lake Michigan. Dyes were dropped into the waters of Green Bay as it enters the limestone cliffs on the west side of the peninsula. Some time later, as it washes through the porous rock of the peninsula, the dyed water exits on the Lake Michigan side. This is a special place of deer, martin, badger, bear, coyote, fox, raptor, crane ....

A child growing up on the peninsula might feel confined by it's isolation and neglected by fast paced advancement that happens elsewhere. An adult introduced to Door County will likely fall in love with it's beauty and freshness. In 1990 I married into a family which held 80 acres in the center of the peninsula. The tracts of land included field, forest, flowage, seasonal pond, bog and a wonderful sand hill - home to the namesake cranes who returned yearly to nest and raise their young.

Crane 'colts' are whimsical creatures of hill and swamp. Omnivorous, they consume anything that is not too big. Frogs, other bird eggs, salamanders, bugs... dragonflies. Hines emerald dragonflies, whose flashing green eyes capture my attention this morning.

Returning to my walk, I come to an area that is densely treed with cedar and white pine; the ground is dry and covered in pine needles, cedar rosettes and dwarf lake iris. There is a hollow sound to the path here; proof of the presence of that limestone sponge beneath. Tiny toads live here too; I am careful not to step on them as they lazily leap out of my way and into an open area where the ground is covered with tiny wild strawberry.

As I exit the pine and cedar forest, the cranes see me. In unison they begin to call - to trumpet in voices loud enough to wake those who chose to sleep in back at the farmhouse. One crane takes to the sky and is suddenly above me, scolding me for the interference. The other crane leaps into the air over and over, while moving southward towards the swamp. It wants my attention; the colts must be close by.
I see the colts everyday from the farmyard with my binoculars. I have no desire to disturb them or the nest area. I head back on the trail and towards the pond.

In the six years of walking the trails of the property, I have seen more wildlife than I ever had before in my 40 years. I have heard warblers sing and pileated woodpeckers try to dismantle cedar homes on the cliffs over looking the bay. I have watched as the cranes stage migration on farm fields they share with dairy cows as they come out of the mist on a chilly autumn morning. Now, those paths are closed to me. Instead of a private family sanctuary, they are home only to the Hines, to the cranes and the pickerel. And they will stay that way as they are now protected by TNC. The timeless quality which gave my heart such joy now belongs to the future of the creatures that live there and the trees which sweeten the air and the birds which serenade the sky.

MIA

Apparently I have not blogged here in some time. That's what happens when you get greedy and have accounts at way too many communities.
Well I have been prolific lately. Too prove it, I am posting two new pieces, one poem and one essay.
Life is good.
:)

Laura and Phil

My friend of many years called me to tell me that her husband is dying of cancer and has perhaps six months to live. One of the first things she said to me is: "I am going to be a widow."

Those seven words were spoken in a similar fashion to: "I had fish for lunch.", or, "I am going on vacation." It was quite matter of fact. What else was it that I heard in her voice?

My friend Laura has been married since 1968. Laura and her husband Phil have had their ups and downs over the years. I met both of them when my ex husband introduced us in 1970 - you remember what 1970 was like; we all partied like it was 1999. Laura and Phil are both six years older than I. We were all on the forefront of the hippie years. To call us all dysfunctional would be kind. Dysfunction followed us all, like shadows. Some of us walked away from the druggie lifestyle. Some of us did not.

Laura and Phil spent a couple of years separated while Phil languished in jail for possession of drugs. Laura, never one to wait patiently, began an affair with another friend while Phil was incarcerated. The affair was known to many of us in our circle of friends, yet it was discreet. However, Laura's first child was a product of the affair.
When Phil got out of jail, he and Laura took up where they left off. No one was condemned in those days for 'fooling around'. Fooling around was something everyone did, some of us were more careful about it than others. These were the days pre-AIDS. Phil and Laura may have been reunited, but their habits did not change for many years. As long as there were drugs to be had, many of the people in our circle of friends did them. I do believe that a few of us had the sense not to fall completely into the drug trap. Phil, Laura, myself and my ex husband never got into injecting drugs. A good thing; it may have been pre-AIDS, but Hepatitis was rampant.
When all the fun, and home brewed drugs began to disappear, pharmaceuticals were eagerly chased. These made for interesting times; they were legal, they were cheaply had and it seemed that every doctor wrote prescriptions for them. In hindsight, although I don't recommend drug use to anyone, todays alternatives are not much different. There are drugs to make you sleep, drugs to make you thin, drugs to give you an erection, drugs to make you not feel pain or depression. Some things never change, except that now, all those drugs are advertised on the nightly news ....

Laura and Phil rode along on this train of drugs and existentialism for years. When the effects of the drugs began to take their toll on their children, they distanced themselves from most of them, and many of the people who had been part of the circle of friends. In the mid 1970s many of us, a bit more mature and needing to move on, took jobs and blended into regular society. We would all still see each other now and then, but weekends were not spent on speed highs at which no one slept and things got a bit out of hand. I've heard it said that the hippies all went to work for IBM; there is a line in an old Eagles song that goes something like this:
"I saw a Deadhead sticker on a cadillac". In my case this was almost true; I went to work for a Fortune 500 company, it could be said that I started late on my career goals. Phil got a job too, and began working as an engineer in the city. In those days, engineer jobs in high rise apartment buildings were very cush. The hours lent themselves well to the ex-druggie and there was lots of freedom as long as the work needed to be done was accomplished.

In 1980, AIDS raised its ugly head and we lost more friends to infection from dirty needles. In 1982 I lost track of Laura and Phil as I left my ex-husband to find a more upwardly mobile life.

It was years before I connected again with the old friends and by that time most had either died, were in jail, moved away or went 'straight'. When I saw Laura and Phil again, they had bought a house in the suburbs, were raising their two boys and except for a bit of marijuana, had stopped doing drugs. Life became pretty normal except for the fact that we survivors seemed to have Xray vision of a type - we saw through the ordinary, we reached beyond the suburban life of our parents.

Since 1982, it seemed that although Laura and Phil had stopped doing drugs, they did not grow. They did not seek beyond the home and sheltered life they built for themselves. It was a sad life in which they both missed those party days - the days of staying up all night, all weekend, of excitement and enthusiasm. They missed the companionship of the circle. Now and then, someone would return to the city for a visit and we would all get together and talk about who was doing what, where they lived, how many kids they had. Eventually talk got around to things like: "Remember when we all went out and did such and such with so and so". "Remember when we had the head shop on Lawrence Ave?"

More years rolled by....

When I married my current husband, it was mostly Laura who I remained friends with. Phil seemed to have lost a lot of his life juice. He became withdrawn, he didn't want to go out much, do much other than watch TV when he wasn't working.
It was like he came down from a heavy weekend of speeding and never quite found his natural energy again.
Laura and I would talk about things; she always hinted at being rather unhappy in her life. Her health suffered, Phil's health was not what it once was. Phil was abusive, or so she claimed, he wasn't interested in sex anymore, he spent too much time at work. The two boys were no longer boys anymore, but they still lived at home and were a drain with their constant drama and angst. It seemed that "Empty Nesters" would never be something that Laura and Phil would experience. One of their sons was diagnosed as having some sort of mental disorder, probably brought about by Laura's drug use when she was pregnant. The second son, Phil's child, showed great promise, but he too grew up in a home where lack of energy or enthusiasm for life was never ending; he had no goals, no dreams, no desires.

A point in my life came when my husband, (who was never part of that circle of friends), and I decided it was time to move on with our lives. A circumstance had greatly changed our lives, and the direction we had been taking. We moved into a smaller, nicer home, put some money into it, renovated and decorated it. It was pretty nice - quite the change from my hippie girl years. More and more I found myself divorced from the remaining friends from so long ago. But Laura and I still stayed in touch.

A couple of years ago, out of the blue, Laura called to tell me that Phil had lung cancer. She was worried about him, he was taking chemotherapy and not doing well. Her words and predictions about his health were dire. But Phil hung in there - two years of radiation and chemotherapy, medical marijuana and part time jobs.
It was last summer that Laura told me that the cancer had returned and Phil was terribly ill.

When Laura called today to tell me that Phil was put into hospice, that the doctors had told them there was nothing further they could do for him and at best he had six months to live, she told me she was very sad.
Now, I understand sad. It is sad to watch anyone die, and sadder still to be the principal caretaker of someone who has a terminal disease. But what was that sound in her voice as she told me she would be a widow soon?

Was it relief that Phil would not have long to suffer? Was it relief that she would be free of the weight of caring for him after these years? Was it perhaps that she could see some change coming into her life?
After all, unless both a husband and wife die at the same moment, we all are destined to be either a widow or widower. Perhaps it is best that this happens while we are still vital enough to seek another lover. Perhaps the long death that is anticipated is worse for the one who lives than it is for the one who dies.

I remember going out with Laura and a number of other girlfriends long ago on a Friday night. We used to all like to dress up and go out together to nightclubs and dance and drink and flirt. Most of us did nothing more than flirt. Others of us did much more than flirt. I guess it could be said that we tested our desirability in the marketplace of the singles bar. Laura was one of those.
One night, there were six of us women out for fun. We all agreed to stop drinking and leave the club by 1 AM and go out to breakfast, then go home. All of us but Laura were at the appointed place at the right time. Laura had come to me, hanging on some disco boy and begged me to wait at the restaurant for her. She was going to have herself an adventure.
Hours later, disheveled and looking radiant, Laura showed up at the restaurant. We were all beginning to worry a bit about her - as well as wonder what our husbands would say about being so late. It was the last time we all went out together. It may have been the last time that Laura felt desired as a young hot babe. I don't know. It never mattered.
Just as it doesn't really matter now, except that I wonder about the despair in the house where Laura and Phil still reside.

One of their children, the youngest son, Phil's son, still lives at home. Laura has been progressively falling apart for most of 10 years. Knee replacements, hip replacements, carpal tunnel surgeries, you name it - Laura has probably had it.
My husband and I have thought that some of Laura's problems could be summed up as due to lack of attention from Phil. Lack of self esteem too, Laura never had it in spades anyways, and as she has aged, it seems to have taken a vacation.

So what is in the words "I am going to be a widow."? Am I hearing a sadness that such an integral part of her life is going to soon be gone ... maybe when passion is gone from marriage, the comfort of a long time friend still remains. Is that what Laura will miss? Will she miss the companion that knows her so well - in fact, knows her so well that he can ignore who she is for years?

I hope that Phil's death doesn't drain Laura of that life force she once had. That same life force which made her cavort with disco boys and have affairs and dance all night. I hope that at the end of it all, Laura is not lost to despair or anger. I hope that all of the years of caring for Phil, for their kids, which weighs on her today, is replaced by a measure of security and satisfaction.

The words: "I am going to be a widow" are words that we all might be uttering one day. And who can say how we will feel about them as we say them?