Whew!

Baseball has sucked the life out of me, even more than usual. There's not much room for politics or other pursuits that typically occupy my mind. The Sox are up 2-0 in the World Series after two games that couldn't have been more different. Game 1 was an orgy of Red Sox hits - they set a number of records, including the most doubles ever in a World Series game. Final score: 13-1 on a game pitched magnificently by Josh Beckett. Game 2 was a nailbiter. Final score: 2-1 in a well-pitched game by my favorite Republican, Curt Schilling.

Everyone's saying the Sox are going to take the series, unless you are a native of Colorado (or a MFY fan, I suppose). I'm feeling very good about it and wouldn't be surprised if it was a sweep.

Luckily, I have XM Radio and I've been listening for my roughly 90 minute daily commute to the MLB coverage. I'm not familiar with all the analysts, but I'm finding it really interesting to hear the national coverage of our boys. Today, for instance, there was a lengthy interview with Mike Lowell, talking all about where he positions himself depending on which pitcher is on the mound. I found it a fascinating discussion and something that hasn't been covered a lot locally.

I'm having the most interesting reaction as I listen to the national news - a feeling of pride in the Red Sox organization, and in the individual players. Something tells me the country is going to embrace a few of the young stars - especially our Riverdancing Closer, Jonathan Papelbon.

So, along with other Sox addicts, we will be tuned in to each of the last few games...won't you?

World Series Bound

Is this NOT the very picture of happiness? Of all the photos taken by Kelly at Sitting Still during the post-season run of the Red Sox, this is my very favorite. It just makes me want to pinch his cheeks!

Tonight is the last night for catching our breath before the World Series starts tomorrow. I'm just about recovered from Game 7 against Cleveland, and now it's on to the Colorado Rockies. The 2007 post-season is different for everyone it seems, as compared with 2004. I guess it's like losing your virginity...as much as you repeat the act it is enjoyable, but there's nothing like your first time (unless, of course, you can recall 1918).

Considering the warm weather and the continuation of baseball season, it's hard to believe we're nearing Halloween. But I'll take it!

Go Sox!

Game Seven Mojo

The Red Sox are making it dramatic, once again! But, we're experienced at Game Seven rituals, superstitions and downright bizarre behavior. For instance, I'm continuing to wear my unwashed (but not filthy) "Life is Good" Fenway T-shirt. Last week, I was wearing my Papelbon shirt but after the Sox lost three games in a row, this shirt stays in the drawer until the World Series.

For last night's game, I also sported a hand-knitted scarf from an internet friend that had just arrived from Tennessee. It provided its very own mojo because just as I put it on, JD Drew hit a Grand Slam. You can bet the scarf stays on tonight for the duration.

Spent yesterday afternoon visiting with some friends from the Surviving Grady website, two of whom actually won tickets to the game. It was fun to be near to Fenway prior to the game to feel some of the excitement - and to put faces and real voices with the electronic voices each of them has.



It's just a few minutes till gametime! Go Red Sox! Sending positive vibes to Daisuke Matsuzaka tonight. See you later...

What Will Be, Will Be

Waiting for tonight's baseball game is about to drive me around the bend. But I posted Youk's picture before the last win and since our backs are against the wall now in the ALCS, I thought I should post again.

Just wanted to wish the Red Sox well and hope that we extend the season for at least six more games. I'm not ready for the off-season and I hope they aren't either.

Go Sox! (Photo courtesy of Kelly at Sittingstill.net!)

Baby Youk Mojo

Thanks to my niece, Beth, we are graced with this lovely picture of Kevin Youkilis as a freshman at Sycamore High School in Cincinnati, circa 1994. We're using it as a good luck charm for the American League Championship Series, which begins tonight. Luckily the Sox are NOT facing the MFYs, but the Cleveland Indians. It's going to be a tight, evenly-matched series, but you've got to like our chances.

Go Sox!

Bob Dylan - Isis (Live 1975)

Now THIS is a demigod.

Been a While...

This has been an odd week. First, there's the summerlike weather. It's October and we're still sleeping with all the windows open? It's October and I'm still watering the flowers? I don't mind in the least. I think reality will set in soon enough.

It's also been a busy week for us - had the house painted early in the week (in two days - man, those dudes fly!). Didn't expect to get that job finished this season, but the painter called and said he had the time and the weather is cooperating, so we figured we might as well get a jump on the spring chores.

Bobbers went on a short business trip to D.C. He rarely travels alone, but I think he had a really good time and enjoyed the seminar on the latest in digital high def video. But I also am very glad to have him home!

My friend Susan and I added another fun night to our Longest Goodbye Ever this week. Her husband was also away on business so I spent the night with her on Wednesday. We had a nice dinner together and watched the Sox and Josh Beckett beat the ever-lovin' stuffing out of the Angels in the first playoff game of the ALDS. Best part? Sitting with Susan in our pajames with our feet up on the coffee table, sipping red wine, munching on a bar of dark chocolate, watching the game. Now that's entertainment. (Ted, I also pointed Susan to your blog to let her know there were other wild-eyed Sox fans in NC.)

Then, there was last night. After my usual Friday afternoon swim, I came home to watch the MFYs lose to the Indians. Boy, was I cheering for those damn bugs! I have a suspicion that the fans of Red Sox Nation will NOT let Joba forget about them in the years ahead. "The Curse of the Canadian Soldier?" Sounds good to me!

Afterwards, we were glued to the Sox-Angels game. Dice-K was a bit shaky but luckily Tito had a quick hook. The bullpen was O.U.T.S.T.A.N.D.I.N.G. They no-hit the Angels for the last five innings of the game. I believe the Red Sox bullpen is to be feared in the playoffs this year.

And, boy, did Manny come through! That home run was as sure a thing as I've EVER seen when it left his bat. Sailed one into the early morning darkness at around 1 a.m. this morning. I love this picture (from Boston.com), which an internet buddy (JET) called the 'Largest Game of Simon Sez Ever.' I love this team.

So, how was your week?

The Cincinnati Kids

A funny thing happened on the way to the women's clothing department at Nordstrom's today. My husband sauntered up and calmly says, "When you're done here you might want to go downstairs. Kevin Youkilis is down there and a line is forming to meet him."

What? A member of the 2007 AL East Championship team downstairs and I'm supposed to continue shopping? In retrospect, I suppose the poor man had difficulty deciding between my love of shoe shopping and my love of the Sox. But, I dropped everything and got in the rather short line. Kinda felt foolish without any Sox garb or children in tow, but I did have a camera and a notebook for him to sign.



So, what did Kevin and I talk during my approximately 90 seconds of contact?

Me: I have just one question for you: Skyline or Gold Star?

Youk: Skyline

Me: Eastside or Westside?

Youk: Eastside, Montgomery

Me: Where did you go to school? Moeller?

Youk: No, I'm Jewish. Sycamore

Me: My brother-in-law went there.

Husband drags me away...

Me: Nice job this year. Good luck!



Too funny for words. I had to wonder how the heck Youk managed to get to the Natick Mall at 1 pm after partying the night away. I know I was exhausted and I went to bed at a decent hour.

So, that was my excitement for today.

Congratulations, Red Sox! Bring on the Angels!



Just another note: One of my nieces may have been in Youk's graduation class at Sycamore High School. Beth, if you're reading this, let me know if you know Kevin, ok?

We're Gonna Find Our Joy

Dedicated to the local nine...

Clear, Blatant Hypocrisy

Every once in a while you wonder when a reporter is going to show some balls. Here, at long last, is David Shuster taking on a Tennessee Congresswoman who came to the show with HER OWN agenda. But David took her in a surprisingly different direction. Enjoy!

Favorite Bumper Sticker

A trip to Provincetown is not complete until you see some tacky souvenir shops, some up-scale, New York-style boutiques, some sex shops, and typical liberal political shops. My kind of place? Sure, why not?

But the best bumper sticker? Here it is:

Looney Dunes

If the first day of fall was an indicator of weather to come, we're in for a grand season. And, it was a perfect day for our day-trip to Provincetown. Took the "fast ferry" from Boston Harbor across the Bay with my group of women friends, and had a relaxing day shopping, eating, drinking and taking a tour of the dunes, which none of us had ever done before.

Although we have much to be thankful for, it was also a bittersweet day because this particular group probably won't be together very often in the future, when Susan moves to North Carolina at the end of October. But we figured out a way to celebrate that, along with Julie's graduation from law school and Joan's new job. The rest of us were happy to be along for the ride, saying goodbye to summer and looking forward to the future.

The picture below was taken on a high dune over looking the Atlantic Ocean:



From left: Rita, me, Susan (the NC-bound), Joan, Ethel, Susan (staying in Mass.) and Julie.

Rudy, Rudy, Rudy

Not sure if anyone I know is paying much attention to the political scene, but there's a small battle being waged between MoveOn.org (yes, I'm a member), and Rudy Giulliani. Seems Rudy doesn't think this group of over 3.5 million Americans has a right to free speech about the Iraq War. Well, MoveOn is fighting back with this ad:



Rudy, like most of the GOoP presidental candidates, is a freakin' money-grubbing hypocrite.

Stress

Lots of people get stress. Sometimes it's on the job. Sometimes it's from dealing with your spouse or in-laws. It happens sometimes when you're behind the wheel of a car or riding in an airplane. Your heart races, you feel sick to your stomach, you develop a twitch in your eyelid. You can't sit still or speak coherently.

Although I am anything but a Type A personality, I get highly stressed while watching baseball in late September and October. It's a terrible problem for me. The first time I remember it happening was in 1975. (Yeah, I'm OLD, get over it.) It was Game 6 of the World Series. I was watching the game with my college roommates in Amherst, Massachusetts. Carlton Fisk strode to the plate and hits his fateful home run. I was devastated.

Yes, I was then a Cincinnati Reds fan. I remember running off to bed, a complete sore loser, while everyone else cheered downstairs. The next night, I went to a bar to watch the Reds beat the Red Sox in game 7, allowing me to have the last laugh. If I had known then what I know now, I would gladly have wished a World Series win on the Red Sox.

Next time it happens is 1986. Again, game 6 of the World Series, except now I'm fully committed to the Red Sox. I'm fairly confident that the Sox are going to do it this time. That is, until a certain ball rolls through a certain first baseman's legs. I remember exactly where I was standing near the steps in our living room when this shocker occurred. I also recall not being able to face game 7, and trying to half-listen to it from the bedroom as the Sox went down to defeat.

It's now 2003. Sox are up by several runs in game 6 (what is it with game 6, anyway?) and a certain Red Sox manager won't remove Pedro Martinez from the game as the MFYankees tie the score. No, I wasn't in the living room when the winning run is scored by Aaron *bleeping* Boone in extra innings. I was in bed with a pillow over my head, trying desperately NOT to hear the cheering, right before my husband turned the TV off.

By 2004 I was burnt to a crisp on post-season baseball. I watched the Sox sweep the Angels in the ALDS. I watched the first two games of the ALCS, won by the MFYs. I skipped game 3 after coming in late and seeing the lopsided score. I was pessimistic on the morning after game 4, but woke up to see the heroics on TV. Papi wins the game in extra innings! Although still too nervous to watch game 5, I once again awaken to news of Papi winning the game. It's time for game 6. Had plans with friends that night, and they had the game on but we weren't in the room. We settled for getting scores shouted to us from the basement family room. Schilling was pulling it out! I drove home with the radio on and watched the last several innings...but not without stress, especially when Slappy took a swing at Arroyo. The next night? No problem. I stood in the exact place that I stood in 1986 and jumped up and down as the Sox beat the Yankees in the greatest comeback in the history of sports. By then it was no problem to watch the World Series - every game, every inning, nearly stress-free.

This history is one of the reasons why I so enjoyed the Sox-Yanks games early this season. They were completely fun, especially the night that Manny, Drew, Lowell and Varitek hit consecutive home runs. The MFYs were in free-fall and I could watch the games with utter composure.

Now, tonight is the last game between these two rivals this season. On Friday, I watched one pitch of the game and it happened that Sid the Sloth hit a double. *Click* I was off to a different TV station. I was able to follow along with the bad news of this game on the internet, with the good folks of Surviving Grady. Yesterday, I played jazz all afternoon while the game played and was finally able to turn on the TV about the sixth inning when the Sox were safely ahead.

What to do tonight? And more importantly, how do I get over the stress factor and actually try to enjoy these games? It's fairly certain that the boys will make the post season and short of getting a lobotomy, I want to watch the games. What do you all suggest?

First Ladies As Dogs

Beyond 9/11

On Monday, September 10, 2001, one of my nieces was in New York City interviewing for a job at a company called Cantor Fitzgerald. It just so happened that Cantor Fitzgerald was a tenant of a building called One World Trade Center, located on the 102nd floor. If she had been there a day later, could she possibly have been a victim of the terrorist attack? Perhaps. But, it's a haunting thought, and luckily not one that our family has had to think about.

But as we approach the anniversary tomorrow, we're going to hear a lot of talk about revenge and Al Qaeda, and what the Chimp has (or hasn't) done to keep us safe from further attacks.

I had a passing thought the other day about 9/11 and the disappointment I have with our country's response to it. We went from immediate shock and horror, to actively seeking a payback, and now a generally blase feeling about - at least so far as I can tell.

What if our response had been different? What if we had simply done the necessary things to bring those responsible to justice? What then? Would we have been able to move on and focus on the bigger picture? Would we be able to commemorate the anniversary of these horrible deaths with a bit more...I'm searching for the right word...pride? What I'm trying to say is so long as that dingbat is in the White House, he will keep us psychologically stuck on September 11, 2001.

Imagine, if you will, a president that took us forward - and focused us all on a brighter future. Next year, we have the opportunity to put this horror behind us. At long last. It's time.





PS: After writing this post, I came across this post from Anna Quindlin in Newsweek. She says it better than me, but it's a similar message.

Cape Cod Wonderfulness

So, is summer officially over? For us, perhaps it is after our almost-a-week vacation on Cape Cod. We must have done something very right to experience the near-perfect weather. It was around 80 degrees every day, with almost painfully clear blue skies, and just slightly chilly evenings.

The best part of the week was our location at the Chatham Tides. We had an oceanfront room, with our own deck from which we enjoyed breakfast every day. Bobbers was smart enough to bring the portable XM radio, so we dined al fresco with jazz or blues accompaniment each morning, wearing sunglasses and going barefoot all the while.

Inspired by the soft ocean breezes and relaxed atmosphere, we didn't do a lot - we shopped some, enjoyed some short drives to the Cape's outermost points - like Wellfleet and Provincetown, topped off with some great dinners. The best were at the Nauset Beach Club in Orleans and Pisces, just up the road from us in South Chatham. If you find yourself lucky enough to be on the Cape, try them out.

Here's some pictures to remind us of what we're missing as the weather turns to fall and the days get shorter...Enjoy!

Buckwheat sings a song

This is what we're laughing about this vacation!

Labor Day Gratitude

The news is good around Casa Beckperson, so this post is merely a catch-up of miscellaneous happenings. Since I'm not clever enough to wrap it all up in some meaningful, profound way, let's just say that I have a lot to be thankful for this Labor Day. Here's some examples:

First, the Sox. The lead is up to six games in the AL East, thanks in large part to the rookies, which is rather odd considering the amount of money the Sox spend for big-name players. Last night's game delivered a most unexpectedly wonderful result in the form of Clay Buchholz, who threw a no-hitter in his second major league game. We caught the last six innings of the game and it was exciting as hell. Stood and applauded in the living room as he recorded the final out: a called strike three on a poor, hapless Oriole. Today, additional rookies (Jon Lester and Jacoby Ellsbury, Hideki Okajima, to name a few) provided the fireworks that led to another win. This news, coupled with the Devil Rays taking two of three from the MFYs, makes for a truly happy weekend.

Second, we had another unexpected delight on Saturday when we spent the day in Lowell, Mass. Unbeknownst to us, Lowell (an old mill town in northern Massachusetts that is frequently disparaged) has turned into an up and coming arts community. We went specifically to see the exhibit of the original "On The Road" manuscript being shown at the Lowell National Historic Park. But, we ended up having a great day of visiting some interesting art exhibits, buying some jewelry from local artisans and enjoying a nice walk around the Market Street area. We especially enjoyed visiting the "Revolving Museum," an arts collaborative currently featuring art from local elementary and high school students. If you're ever in the area, it appears that Lowell is becoming THE place to be. My sense is that many artists being pushed out of the high rent space in Boston/Cambridge are moving here - and it couldn't be better for all of us.

Finally, Bob and I are on packing tonight for 4 nights/5 days in Chatham, at the elbow of Cape Cod. And the weather is going to be spectacular: mid-70s to low-80s for highs and almost always pure blue skies. Although we could use the rain, I hope it waits for another 6 days before it makes its appearance. Looking forward to some good seafood, meeting up with a couple of friends along the way (I hope) and beautiful views at our ocean-front hotel. We are a coupla lucky people, that's for sure.

Happy Labor Day everyone.

That's Amore

Once upon a time, when I was a newlywed it was very hard to get me up in the morning. I was cranky and unsmiling and generally not real fun to be around. But Bobbers had a couple of tricks up his sleeve to get me to face the day with a better outlook. He would put the stereo on really loud with this song playing. (It was long enough ago that he put on a 45 rpm record on the turntable.)

Without fail it would make me laugh, or at least not snap at him. So ultimately it was probably more of a defensive measure for him.

In the decades since, the tables have turned and now Bob is the one who wakes up with a bit of a snarl.

So this post is for him as a pre-emptive strike against the Monday blues, with all my love.

iPhone blogging

Tonight I am convinced my beloved husband is trying to make me insane. He suggested I try to post from the iPhone. This means I have to type the whole thing with my thumbs. I guarantee it will be short. So there you are, my dear. You ask. I deliver. Now I have to go stretch my thumbs.

Not Sure I Like This

The Red Sox are "America's Team." So says USA Today in describing the multitudes of fans following the team, both at Fenway and on the road. On one hand, I am pleased that our local team is the most popular draw (especially over the MFYs), but on the other hand, it would be nice to keep them to ourselves.

Having said that, if the Sox were just a New England draw, I would never have met my buddies on "Surviving Grady". I can't imagine going through baseball season without them! However, the team's success has turned them into marketing gold. Everything is an opportunity for selling something...from the huge ads plastered all over the walls of Fenway Park, to the new Fenway Racing Team (NASCAR), to the fact that everything that comes out of the announcer's mouths on the game telecast is for sale. You know..."This is the Call to the Bullpen, brought to you by (fill in the blank)"

And you'd think that everyone in New England is required to own one of the following: a Red Sox hat, a T-shirt, or a car magnet, perhaps more popular than "support the troops" magnets in this part of the country. I thought it might be fun sometime to count how many Sox logos I see in a single 24-hour period, but it would be a ridiculously large number.

Perhaps the popularity of sports across the country is partly responsible. I did find that last time I visited my hometown during football season, it was awash in a sea of orange and black.

But whatever the case, let's hope the love of all things Red Sox translates into an excellent result in early November. Apparently the world is waiting.

The Way We Were

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This is my family in 1967. My Mom and Dad, my two older sisters (I'm seated at left), and my brother. For a variety of reasons, it's rare to find pictures of us all together. And, of course, in the olden days, it was more of an occasion to be photographed. This was no exception, as it appears we were at a larger family picnic with my Mom's side of the family. I recently came across this photograph when I was scanning a stack of them to preserve electronically. Ever since, I've been intrigued with it.

During this particular summer, my oldest sister Mary Lou (standing, right) met her future husband, who she married less than three years later. At the opposite end of the spectrum, my brother was only three years old and just beginning his journey. The six of us lived under the same roof for only about five years altogether.

By the mid-1970s, my parents ended up divorcing, but went on to long-term, loving second marriages. If you look closely you'll see clues to their relationship near the end of it. My father is a bit buzzed (notice his right hand trying to hide the beer bottle) and attempting to pull Mom closer to him. While she's smiling, to me her body language is all about keeping him at arm's length. This says everything you need to know about their marriage.

My sister Nancy is seated at right. She was the coolest teenager I ever knew and I wanted nothing more than to be JUST LIKE HER. She had tons of friends, was a great dancer and wore the best clothes on her always-slim body. She was three years older than me but put up with me most of the time, letting me tag along with her and her friends fairly often. Everything I knew about being a teenager I learned from her.

What about me? I'm wearing a favorite outfit that was handmade by my mother. It was sort of a long, cotton tunic, worn with shorts underneath. That summer, Mom made two or three of these for me - all variations on the same theme with different material that I'm sure she let me choose. When was the last time you wore something sewn at home from a pattern? This is one of the few domestic talents Mom had, and at the time she often pulled out the sewing machine to make clothes for us.

If I remember correctly (it IS a long time ago), I received my first kiss that summer from a boy named Rick Holthaus, who sneaked out of his house during the night to visit. Because we didn't have air conditioning, I used to sleep on our screened-in front porch, often falling asleep listening to baseball games on the radio. Lo and behold, one night he came by and we did a little clumsy kissy-facing.

1967. It's very likely that our family car was a 1959 Chevrolet (the one with the giant wings on the back), and we didn't have color TV yet. I do recall we had a hi-fi and stacks of scratchy LPs. It also meant that at least one of my uncles was likely serving in Vietnam. 1967 also is remembered poorly for being one of the long, hot summers of race riots in my hometown of Cincinnati.

Always interesting to go back in time and look at my parents when they were younger than I am today. You always think of them as being so much more mature, having their shit together in ways we never will. In reality, they were just doing their best to hold it together to put a roof over our heads and get along. I give them all the credit in the world - none of us turned out to be jailbirds or prostitutes, so I guess we're doing ok. Right?

Busy Week, Miscellaneous News

Some people get distracted by shiny objects. This week I've been very distracted during my free time with the new iPhone. Between finally getting to know iTunes (the Master Software for Life Itself, I'm convinced), and downloading new music, the days have passed by very quickly.

I've missed such notable events as Karl's "resignation" from the White House. It's about time that the man moved on, after masterminding the collapse of the Chimp's second term. There is literally NOTHING he did that turned out well. Beginning with trying to keep poor Terry Schiavo alive, to attempting to privatize Social Security, to attempting to orchestrate the "marketing" of a war without end, the man has done nothing worthwhile.

In many ways, Rove is just like the New York Yankees. He's living on past glories and a reputation that is no longer relevant. And just like the Sox vanquishing that Evil Empire, we shall soon exile him to Texas (but not to Austin).

Also in the news this week was the Utah mine fiasco. First the collapse of the mine and the death of workers trying to help save them.

But we also find out that the guy in charge of mine safety in the Chimp's Administration wasn't even able to be confirmed by the REPUBLICAN Senate and was given a recess appointment. I know you won't believe it but he was an executive for an energy company, not someone who may have had the interests of miners at the top of his list (even though he was once a miner himself).

In a magical confluence of events, the owner of the collapsed Utah mine is also a Republican crony, who dropped names (like KY Senator Mitch McConnell) in order to get mine inspectors off his back. Who is McConnell married to? Why the Secretary of Labor who oversees mine safety. Hmmmmmm, wonder what they talk about over dinner? It's certainly not how they can improve mine safety.

Cronyism. It's what could kill many of us one day. I may be distracted by the electronic toys in my life, but I'm not completely blind.

Conundrum No More

Seems my dear hubby reads this blog.

This year's birthday came with a great surprise attached in the form of a brick-sized black box. Inside...you guessed it...was an iPhone! I've been spending a good part of this beautiful summer weekend getting to know it and iTunes a great deal better. Made a few mistakes along the way syncing everything up, but I think I'm getting the hang of this newfangled toy.

The usability factor of the iPhone rates high, along with everything that Apple builds. It's so simple I'm always surprised when the first attempt at an action doesn't go as expected. In fact, there were times I was making the action too hard...looking for a button that didn't exist, etc.

For me, the cellphone is the least of it, although I suspect I'll actually use it since it comes along with the other stuff. But, it's also a full-fledged entertainment tool, with the ability to play music, browse photographs (I put all 777 photos from the Ireland trip on it with tons of room to spare!), surf the internet, watch TV and listen to podcasts.

So, I'm hooked (and thankfully it kept me from watching the horror show that is the Boston Red Sox this weekend).

Thanks, Bobbers!

"No End In Sight"

This movie opens near me on Friday, August 10, at the Kendall Square Theatre in Cambridge. I think I know what we'll be doing this weekend.

From the movie's website, here's the synopsis:

The first film of its kind to chronicle the reasons behind Iraq’s descent into guerilla war, warlord rule, criminality and anarchy, NO END IN SIGHT is a jaw-dropping, insider’s tale of wholesale incompetence, recklessness and venality. Based on over 200 hours of footage, the film provides a candid retelling of the events following the fall of Baghdad in 2003 by high ranking officials such as former Deputy Secretary of State Richard Armitage, Ambassador Barbara Bodine (in charge of Baghdad during the Spring of 2003), Lawrence Wilkerson, former Chief of Staff to Colin Powell, and General Jay Garner (in charge of the occupation of Iraq through May 2003) as well as Iraqi civilians, American soldiers, and prominent analysts. NO END IN SIGHT examines the manner in which the principal errors of U.S. policy – the use of insufficient troop levels, allowing the looting of Baghdad, the purging of professionals from the Iraqi government, and the disbanding of the Iraqi military – largely created the insurgency and chaos that engulf Iraq today. How did a group of men with little or no military experience, knowledge of the Arab world or personal experience in Iraq come to make such flagrantly debilitating decisions? NO END IN SIGHT dissects the people, issues and facts behind the Bush Administration’s decisions and their consequences on the ground to provide a powerful look into how arrogance and ignorance turned a military victory into a seemingly endless and deepening nightmare of a war.

Democratic Candidates Debate

I'm keeping half an eye on the upcoming presidential election. However, I haven't chosen a candidate, nor have I watched many debates. Last night I happened to catch the debate sponsored by the AFL-CIO. It was actually very riveting because most of the questions were from real working people. An especially poignant question was presented by one gentleman who lost a third of his pension and promised health care for his family when the company he retired from (on a disability) went out of business. If your heart doesn't break when you listen to this, you're less than human.

If we could have more debates with questions/topics like this one, I think more people might pay attention to politics. Of course, I can hear you saying, "The politicians are just full of promises, or don't really answer the questions." Call me Pollyanna, but I think if more people took the trouble to ask these kinds of questions and become participants in the process, we could hold the politicians' feet to the fire and make progress.

Also, contrast the topics the Dems receive with those you the GOoPers cover: how to get rid of immigrants, how to restrict the rights of ordinary (gay) people, how to tell women to manage their own birth control, how to have corporations get richer while workers are tossed aside.

The difference is striking.

A Quick One

Attention People of Minnesota! The Chimp did not visit Minneapolis today to help you recover from the bridge collapse. If you wonder why I say this, ask some former citizens of New Orleans who are still awaiting the help of the government.

Oh, you say Minnesota is full of white people?

Well, then. Excuse the interruption.

Le Changement est Bon

Upon first meeting my friend Susan you will be struck immediately by two distinctive features: her extra loud, boisterous guffaw of a laugh and her beautiful, stylish clothes. Look deeper and you'll see she is also smart, perceptive, sarcastic, well-organized, profane and loyal.

Susan and I worked together for about 10 years and I've always believed there is a sort of sisterhood between us. For instance, here are some of our commonalities:

• We have a mutual disdain for the Bush Administration. In fact, Susan hosted many "Bush Bash" evenings during the dark days of 2003-5 before the rest of the country caught up to our way of thinking.
  
  
• We share an obnoxious (and juvenile) sense of humor. Susan and I once spent nearly an entire meeting with a vendor talking like goats. (One of those "you have to be there" moments for sure.)
  
  
• We have a similar lack of reverence, shall we say, for corporate rules. She speaks her mind too often. I wear the wrong clothes or make bad jokes at inopportune times.

But, in spite of our inadequacies, Susan and I actually did some great work together, and were once given an employee award from our company. And, by the time our shared work experience ended, we could read each other's minds. It was spooky that I could cover for her when I knew she was ready to explode. And, when I was just about to step on a land mine (usually of my own making), she would throw a body block and save me. It got to the point where we would just need a glance or a raised eyebrow and we'd come to each other's rescue.

It's hard to believe that we haven't worked together for nearly a year, and now we are preparing for an even bigger change. Susan and her husband are planning to relocate to North Carolina in the fall. Perhaps the fact that we haven't seen each other every day will make the transition easier. Perhaps the fact that Susan and Daryl will make North Carolina just a wee bit "bluer," will make me not miss them as much. Then again, perhaps pigs will sprout wings and fly.

I know they aren't leaving Boston until October, but I just wanted to say it's been a pleasure to know you both. We're going to miss you terribly. And when you've tired of southern hospitality, you know we'll welcome you home with open arms.

Bon voyage, mes amis!

Patti Smith - Gloria

Just because I feel like it...

The Long, Hot Summer...Getting Hotter?

When Americans finally wake up from whatever stupor we've collectively been in for the whole of the 21st century, we'll begin to see the Bush administration for what it is: a lying, deceitful, incompetent, crony-filled bunch of warmongers, who care more about lining their own pockets than ensuring the safety and well-being of their countrymen.

If you want a perfect example of how they're ruining this country, look at the fact that Alberto Gonzales retains his position as head of the Justice Department...the Justice Department. This man is clearly the stopper in a whopping, large bottle of wrong-doing. If he goes, it would be a domino effect...they all could be in deep crapola.

The New York Times calls for Alberto's impeachment today:

"President Bush often insists he has to be the decider — ignoring Congress and the public when it comes to the tough matters on war, terrorism and torture, even deciding whether an ordinary man in Florida should be allowed to let his wife die with dignity. Apparently that burden does not apply to the functioning of one of the most vital government agencies, the Justice Department.

Americans have been waiting months for Mr. Bush to fire Attorney General Alberto Gonzales, who long ago proved that he was incompetent and more recently has proved that he can’t tell the truth. Mr. Bush refused to fire him after it was clear Mr. Gonzales lied about his role in the political purge of nine federal prosecutors. And he is still refusing to do so — even after testimony by the F.B.I. director, Robert Mueller, that suggests that Mr. Gonzales either lied to Congress about Mr. Bush’s warrantless wiretapping operation or at the very least twisted the truth so badly that it amounts to the same thing."

Amen.

Something tells me things are going to get plenty hot this August. It can't come soon enough.

Democratic or Despotic...You Be the Judge

A Cell Phone Conundrum

For the most part, I detest cellphones, and yet I crave the Apple iPhone. What is UP with that?

Am I simply falling for the unrelenting hype? Or, could it be that I'm intrigued by its fancy graphics, the smooth, clean lines of its button-free case? Or, could it be that it doubles as an iPod? And a camera? And a video-player? Yes, yes, yes, yes and yes.

Even though my current cellphone from Verizon is adequate - I can take pictures with it, it connects to the web, it's just (::weeps like a teenager::) not cool. Right now it spends most of the time floating around the bottom of my purse, mostly uncharged.

But, I'm also hearing that there are some problems with the iPhone and at a cost of $499, I think I can wait for the bugs to be worked out. But, one day - mark my words - it will be mine.

Of Traveling, Driving and Drinking

Finding compatible traveling companions is a roll of the dice. The so-called luck of the Irish was with me when I traveled to the Emerald Isle recently. Before I give examples of that, here's the type of traveler I would definitely NOT like to spend a week with:

The Non-Stop Chatterbox. This person starts talking upon arrival at airport security, keeps at it during the six-hour flight, and greets each new day with incessant and unending chatter. I don’t know about you, but I need downtime – during the flight I like to listen to music or watch the movie, or simply sit with my eyes closed. Don’t get me started about the overheard conversations among fellow passengers…or the screaming children.

The Complainer. This type is easy to recognize: they complain about everything. The security line isn’t moving fast enough at the airport. The food isn’t hot enough. The bed is lumpy. The rental car is too small. The weather sucks. This person is begging to be dropped off at the nearest bus terminal to find his own way home.

The Critic. To this person, everything’s always better somewhere else. “The souveniers here cost too much.” “Why don’t these people drive on the ‘right’ side of the road?” “I could make better scones than this.” “Customs moves faster in Italy.” “Why did you pick this hotel?” This is far worse than the complainer, because they’re a know-it-all, too.

The Clinger. I love a traveling companion that can entertain herself. The Clinger is the opposite of that. She’s the type who follows so closely behind that if you stop she’ll smack right into you. She depends on you for everything, and hasn’t had an original thought since 1981.

Lucky for me, my traveling pals on the Ireland trip were the antithesis of these stereotypes. In fact, the entire trip with Nancy and Rita was a joy from start to finish.

There were two examples of our striking compatibility - the driving and the drinking. Fairly soon after picking up the rental car, I inherited the role of designated driver. This had less to do with drinking that you might think. It had more to do with one of us, who shall remain nameless, cracking mirrors with a parked car as we wiggled our way down a narrow Irish street.

We were also quite compatible when it came to Guinness. And the pubs. And the drinking of Guinness every day in the pubs. Luckily, we three always agreed on just when and where to stop for the next pint. For instance, if we were caught in a downpour, we stopped for a Guinni. If our feet were tired from an afternoon of shopping, we made it Pint Time. From the first night when we stopped at the “Poet’s Corner” pub for dinner and ordered up half-pints, we were hooked on Ireland’s finest beer, as well as the easy sociability of the local pubs.

So, next time you’re traveling and you need a good Driver or a good Drinker, give one of us a yell. We promise not to complain or whine or cling - give us a Guinness and we're good to go.

The Wonders of the Internet

.

For all the blogs and websites available today, I tend to stick to a pretty select corner. Because of my baseball fandom, I've been a reader and sometime contributor to the comments on a blog called "Surviving Grady." This site was launched (as Red Sox fans everywhere will surmise) because of the 2003 ALCS, when Grady Little left Pedro Martinez too long in game 7, allowing the MFYs to win the series in heartbreaking fashion.

I first ran across "SG" as I was creating this blog in January 2005, when the good folks who run Blogger featured it as a "Noteworthy Blog" or somesuch. I've been hooked ever since. In the beginning, I kept coming back for the snarky humor of Red and Denton, and to find like-minded individuals who were still rhapsodizing about the recently won 2004 World Championship.

But in recent years, the comments section has been hijacked by a rogue's gallery of posters, one more creative and hysterical than the next. If pressed, I would guess that most of the commenters are women. They are all extremely smart about baseball, and it is presented with a side order of pure, unadulterated wackiness. Over the past year, the crazy folks have been having semi-regular meet-ups where people get a chance to put faces and bodies with their voices and personae.

Last night I was privileged to meet four of these women after Bobbers and I attended the Sox game (which we won 11-2, BTW). We met at an off-the-beaten path pub on the Brookline side of Kenmore Square. I wasn't quite sure what to tell Bobbers about "Hayes," "Tex," "Kelly," and "Cyn." Should I tell him about the heated arguments about baseball and other topics we have daily? Should I tell him about Tex's rally hoots? Should I warn him about the foul language? Naaahhhh.

I did explain the easily explained. Like, how Kelly is an expert photographer, how Hayes lives in the Pioneer Valley (one of our favorite places), how Tex is from...well...Texas, and how Cyn takes her baseball quite seriously.

In the spirit of Tom Miles' explanations of our crazy band of bloggers, which I could never come close to topping, here's my night with "Team Ovary."

During the ninth inning, I check my cellphone, and sure enough, there's a message from Tex. So I call and find out they're having a "low key" night at a bar with a name I never did find out. But she gives me vague directions..."It's on Beacon Street, just go over the bridge. It has a Gaelic name and a yellow front. You won't miss us, we're sitting in the window."

So off we go, with me thinking: "Why the hell am I taking directions from the Texan when there were native Bostonians with her?" Is it in Kenmore Square? Is it in the Back Bay? Hmmmm?"

All we needed was one more call to orient us properly on Beacon and we quickly found the place. Outside, an almost-redhead was smoking furiously and talking on a cellphone. This has to be the place, I think. I try a half-shout..."Tex?" The woman's head whips around, she shuts off the phone and fairly jumps into my arms. "Did you say Tex?" she asks. Before I can say a thing, she says, "I'm Hayes!" And I believe I've found a new best friend.

As I disentangle from Hayes, a screeching woman with giant hoots and a Red Sox tank top barrels out the front door. It's none other than Tex herself. She's the reason I show up this evening, mostly because she invited me personally. Before she left Texas last week, she says specifically to me, "So, beck, are you going to be around next week when I'm in Boston?" Tex is most definitely NOT the kind of person you say no to. I'm intrigued to meet this big-hearted, thoughtful, poet with an infectious personality. How could I pass this up?

Cyn and Kelly are indeed sitting in the front table, in front of a wide-open picture window (see above). It's a dark, wood paneled local dive, and we sit down after brief introductions. I have the oddest sensation...I can't shake the feeling that I've known these people for a long time. But as Tom experienced, they all came as advertised.

Cyn was her typical hard-core, baseball-oriented self, and her cellphone is not far from her well-manicured hands. I have the sense that she's checking every at-bat of every major league baseball game going on across the country. "Fuck!" she yells at one point. "Those motherfuckin' Yankees are winning game two (of their doubleheader), too." I've always envied Cyn's passion - she'll defend her friends and family to the death, and doesn't suffer fools well. Online, I try to stay on her good side, fearing the repercussions of a baseball faux paux. In person, she giggles often, waves her hands when she talks and is not nearly as belligerent as I've been led to believe.

Kelly sits like a curly-haired Buddha, smiling broadly when we discuss our recent bet about JD Drew's recent home run drought. The other day we bet a beverage on him hitting a homerun during this series with the White Sox. When Drew hit one Friday night (which was missed by the umps, but that's another story), I made good on the bet promising to buy her a drink if/when we got together. I didn't think it would be so soon, but it was surely one bet I was more than happy to lose. Kelly is one of those calm, thoughtful people who typically applies logic and considered opinions to the frequent on-line arguments we've generated over the years. If I find her agreeing with me on baseball matters, I'm thrilled.

Hayes is fire itself. She's loud, cheerful, witty, and has diverse interests. Her conversations veer from car restoration to mortgages to music to past loves lost - all in a matter of minutes. But she's also caring and observant. When we escape to the restroom together, she asks after my husband. "Is he having fun?" she asks.

Considering Bobbers is quiet by nature, he's doing pretty well with this band of women. As we return to the table, he's engaged in a good discussion with Tex on the music scene in Austin. He's clearly found a kindred spirit who appears to enjoy his kind of music - the subject most near and dear to his heart.

What can I say about Tex? She came exactly as advertised. She's warm, emotional, smart and an excellent multi-tasker. If she's not yelling something to the next table, she's texting people in New Zealand, or softly asking the server for some ranch dressing for her chicken sandwich. Best of all, she comes with a badge (and she let me touch it!) Believe it or not, she's an officer in the Texas juvenile justice system. And I bet she's damn good at it.

The lesson from all of this? Once again, the internet has delivered the joy of community to another small group, one that would never have been possible, but for this particular website.

Cheney's in Charge

God help us all.

Blogging Excuses

Over the past weeks since we returned from Ireland, I've been thinking quite a bit about updating the blog and adding the latest news from hereabouts. But that isn't getting me anywhere, as you likely have noticed.

Let's just say the summer's getting in the way. I haven't been blogging when it's hot (no a/c at my house, kiddies), or when I'm working (yeah, full time..sucks), or when spending quality time with Bobbers (went away last weekend for an overnighter!), or when I'm pooped (10 pm bedtime? you got it), or when I'm watching the Sox (still 10 games up!), so it leaves me precious little time for this poor little blog. But I do ponder my next post during my daily commute or when I'm falling asleep (when I seem to get my best ideas), so eventually it will come out in pixel form on this space. I'm sure you're all waiting with bated breath.

In the meantime, here's a few pictures from the Sox game we went to the other night. It was a gorgeous night at Fenway. My good buddies, SMG and Mr. SMG and E enjoyed it as well. You know Boston is baseball-crazed when we pay $30 for standing room. But it was on the new right field deck, with its own restroom, bar and food stand, so there were some benefits. They've done a remarkable job keeping that 95-year-old park up and running. And, yes, my boys won the game, too.

Bobbers and I will be going to another Sox game next Saturday - it's supposed to be on Fox, so anyone outside the greater New England area can also watch. (We have a seat this time, too!)

What Kind of Liberal Am I?

Found this handy little quiz today, and found out my rating as a Liberal. You, too, can take the quiz at the link below:

My Liberal Identity:

You are a Working Class Warrior, also known as a blue-collar Democrat. You believe that the little guy is getting screwed by conservative greed-mongers and corporate criminals, and you’re not going to take it anymore.

Take the quiz at www.FightConservatives.com

Impeaching the Bastards

Would it surprise you to know that 45% of Americans support impeaching the Chimp? It's true, see the poll here. And 54% favor impeaching The Dick. My, my, my.

I say let's do it.

Happy 4th of July!

Oh.My.God.

From Daily Kos: "A file photo of Commander Cuckoobananas..."

Ireland, ho!

It is truly hard to believe, but it's now just a week till we leave for Ireland and our brother's wedding. I'm not sure that Tara knows quite what she's getting into. Let's just say that the fact that they'll be living 2,000 miles from the nearest relative will be quite beneficial. I wish them well as they begin this new phase of their lives. Welcome aboard, Tara! We truly are glad to have you.

Now, about the trip. My sister and my friend, Rita, and I will be spending a week in Ireland, including 3 two-night stops: Ennis (close to the Cliffs of Moher and the Burren), Adare (a fairy-tale village of thatched roof cottages, where the wedding takes place), and Killarney (probably the most "American" of towns in Ireland. As my Irish friend Andrew says, "It's rather shamrock-y." I don't know if we'll want to be known as Americans when we'r there. Maybe we can pass as Canadian?) On the other hand, Killarney is close to some of the most beautiful scenery in all of Ireland.

So, we're counting the days, checking the weather reports and I know I'm revising my carry-on bag contents daily. Armed with a couple of books, a few snacks and whatever liquids allowed these days, I'm sure we'll be fine.

The trip will be computer-less...somehow shlepping the laptop across the ocean does not thrill me. So we'll take copious notes and do a full report when we're back. We will, however, be photographing the bejesus out of the place (including the wedding), so that should make for interesting blog fodder.

4 Homers In a Row

More of this tonight, please!

Talk About Doomsday...

Now for something completely scary. If you don't worry about this, then you don't have a pulse. From today's Boston Globe:

WASHINGTON -- The Bush administration is writing a new plan to maintain governmental control in the wake of an apocalyptic terrorist attack or overwhelming natural disaster, moving such doomsday planning for the first time from the Federal Emergency Management Agency to officials inside the White House.

The policy requires all government agencies to have clear lines of succession if top officials are killed and be prepared to operate from a new headquarters within 12 hours of a catastrophe. They must be prepared "to lead and sustain the nation during a crisis" -- a charge ranging from "providing leadership visible to the nation and the world" to "bringing to justice perpetrators of crimes or attacks."

The policy replaces a Clinton-era "continuity in government" post-disaster plan. The old plan is classified, but security specialists and administration officials said the new policy centralizes control of such planning in the White House and puts a greater emphasis on terrorism spurring the catastrophe.

Bush quietly signed the new policy on May 4. The unclassified portion of his "homeland security-national security presidential directive" -- a special kind of executive order that can be kept secret -- was also posted on the White House website on May 9, without any further announcement or press briefings.

Oh.My.God.

UMass Comes Through

Andrew Card, former WH chief of staff was booed lustily when he was awarded an honorary degree at my "alma mater" - the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. Nice job, folks.

State of the Nation

All's happy in Red Sox Nation, in case you were wondering. As of today, we're eight games up in the American League East. Yesterday's game was one for the ages.

For 8.5 innings, it was probably one of the quietest (even boring?) games this season. Red Sox were going quietly into the loss and our ace, Josh Beckett, had been taken out of the game early due to a finger "avulsion." (If you know what that means, you're better than me...I had to Google it, which brings you to some of the most hideous medical pictures. Be careful if you go there.) Orioles were leading 5-0 when we came to bat in the bottom of the inning.

With one out, the catcher drops an easy pop-up. From there, all hell breaks loose. Papi doubles home the first run, the bases were then loaded and the pitcher walks a run in. Then Varitek doubles a couple more runs in - score now 5-4. And finally, with Julio Lugo at the plate and the bases still loaded (2 outs), he hits a high chopper to the first baseman (Kevin Millar!), who fed the ball to the pitcher covering first.

OOOOPS, the pitcher misses the catch, crossing first base with an empty glove. Two runs score. Sox win 6-5! If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it.

Things are looking great this season, to say the least. Still a long way to go, but we appear to be positioned well for the long haul.

Go Sox!

Mother's Day

At least this year I wasn't wished "Happy Mother's Day" by some unsuspecting waitstaff or sales clerk. Happens 'most every year and when you are child-free, and it makes for an interesting dynamic.

Should I simply thank the person for their good wishes and return same? Sometimes I do. Should I announce my child-free state and embarrass them? Depending on my mood, this can happen as well. I have to say that there also have been times when the "Happy Mother's Day" comes with a free gift. For instance, one time I received a silky-soft jewelry bag that I carry to this day. So I'm not immune from a little freebie while I play-act at being someone's mom.

And, just for fun, here's a little history of Mother's Day from Wikipedia that makes me wish Mother's Day was less commercial and more in keeping with the original design:

Julia Ward Howe wrote the Mother's Day Proclamation in 1870, as a call for peace and disarmament. Howe failed in her attempt to get formal recognition of a Mother's Day for Peace. Her idea was influenced by Ann Jarvis, a young Appalachian homemaker who, starting in 1858, had attempted to improve sanitation through what she called Mothers' Work Days. She organized women throughout the Civil War to work for better sanitary conditions for both sides, and in 1868 she began work to reconcile Union and Confederate neighbors. In parts of the United States it is customary to plant tomatoes outdoors after mother's day (and not before.)

When Jarvis died, her daughter, named Anna Jarvis, started the crusade to found a memorial day for women. The first such Mother's Day was celebrated in Grafton, West Virginia, on May 10, 1908, in the church where the elder Ann Jarvis had taught Sunday School. Grafton is the home to the International Mother's Day Shrine. From there, the custom caught on — spreading eventually to 45 states. The holiday was declared officially by some states beginning in 1912. In 1914 President Woodrow Wilson declared the first national Mother's Day, as a day for American citizens to show the flag in honor of those mothers whose sons had died in war (with specific reference to The Great War, now known as World War I). Nine years after the first official Mother's Day holiday, commercialization of the U.S. holiday became so rampant that Anna Jarvis herself became a major opponent of what the holiday had become. Mother's Day continues to this day to be one of the most commercially successful U.S. holidays.

So, I hope the rest of you Moms were treated well by your young'uns...and the service person nearest you.

How Low Can He Go?

Beating up on the Chimp these days is just way too easy, and even I have not wasted time on him lately.

But today's poll from Newsweek seems like a good time to renew acquaintenances with the ninny who is our fearless leader. Apparently, the Chimp has sunk to a new low in approval: 28%.

"It’s hard to say which is worse news for Republicans: that George W. Bush now has the worst approval rating of an American president in a generation, or that he seems to be dragging every ’08 Republican presidential candidate down with him. But According to the new NEWSWEEK Poll, the public’s approval of Bush has sunk to 28 percent, an all-time low for this president in our poll, and a point lower than Gallup recorded for his father at Bush Sr.’s nadir. The last president to be this unpopular was Jimmy Carter who also scored a 28 percent approval in 1979. This remarkably low rating seems to be casting a dark shadow over the GOP’s chances for victory in ’08. The NEWSWEEK Poll finds each of the leading Democratic contenders beating the Republican frontrunners in head-to-head matchups."

Couldn't happen to a finer bunch of dopes.

My iPod Shuffle Makes Me Crazy

The idea of an iPod Shuffle is so intriguing. I love the ability to carry around 250 or so songs in all kinds of unique combinations of playlists. Of course, it would be better if it actually worked. I received one as a gift for Christmas and I'm now on my FOURTH one - having returned three of them after they stopped working. Arggghhhhh.

So tomorrow I make another trek to the Apple story to visit my own person genius, Omar. Yes, they really call their techies geniuses. And, yes, his name is Omar. We're on a first name basis now, since my last visit was just last Monday.

I suppose I'll go back to my Zen MP3 player which isn't nearly as sexy looking, nor as small. But it has worked without a hitch for at least 3 years - and I've never had to return it - not once.

If anyone has had similar experiences, or can recommend another iPod that has better reliability, I'm all ears.

My Dinner With David

When I attended college (mostly spent in a pot-induced haze), I was a student member of the university's Speakers Bureau. Each student was asked to host a speaker during the course of the year. As luck would have it, I was assigned David Halbertstam, author of "The Best and the Brightest," a Pullitzer-prize winning book about the JFK/LBJ team that got us entangled in the Vietnam war.

So what did I do? I cooked the only thing I could afford and had experience with...a spaghetti dinner, and invited him to the ramshackle house I shared with three other students and a drunken sot named Scott (That's a story for another day.) This thrilling dinner date took place around 1976, after Mr. Halbertstam was already well-known, probably more regularly dining with major politicians and other hoi poloi. And here he was, stuck eating a cheaply made spaghetti dinner, surrounded by a bunch of semi-conscious students. As I think about it now, I don't recall having a lucid conversation with the man; didn't ask any questions, simply fed him and the friends I had coerced into joining us, and delivered him to the speech on time. Can't imagine what he must have thought, or how many dozens of these dinners he had to sit through. But I recall Mr. Halberstam as being friendly and relatively easy to be with as he sat in our messy house in his business suit.

It makes me sad to read that David Halberstam died in a car accident today. Since our dinner together I have often enjoyed his commentaries on some of the more erudite talks shows, like Charlie Rose or NPR. (A favorite quote from David was when he was going through a long story explaining how he had a 'small epiphany' about something and it's been a favorite phrase at our house for years. How the hell does one have a small epiphany?)

Recently, I discovered he was a huge baseball fan, and if I had only known that in 1975, we would have had more to say to each other. RIP, Mr. Halberstam, and sorry for being such a crappy hostess. Wish we could have a do-over.

BTW: THE RED SOX SWEPT THE WEEKEND SERIES WITH THE MFY's!!! Last night, they hit 4 freakin' home runs in a row. Way happy today. GO SOX!

The Zimmers : Talkin' Bout My Generation

This is one of the most popular videos on YouTube this week. From what I've read, this is the grand finale to a documentary in the UK about the forgotten elderly. It renews your faith in the aging process - enjoy!

Human Kindness...Pass it On

I'm avoiding news programming since I saw the coverage last night of the "multi-media" manifesto of the Virginia Tech killer. That NBC saw fit to show the home-made video and images of that sad, lost soul is beyond me. We don't usually get so emotionally involved in the news that we feel the need to turn the TV off altogether, but we did.

So, today in my minimal web browsing today I tried to avoid anything related to the shooting, but a headline caught my eye: "Ex-classmates say gunman was bullied." How freakin' sad is it that something so simple as showing kindess and care for a young Korean immigrant might have prevented these senseless murders?

It reminds me, once again, that the casual, thoughtless comment ("nappy-headed hos" anyone?) is indeed hurtful and has the potential to do deep, significant harm. This world is hard enough to get through for those of us with decent mental health. But, we shouldn't compound the problems of others who could be less healthy by making their lives even more difficult through verbal abuse or taunting.

Could it be that all the money, anti-depressents and therapy matters less than simple, human kindess? Well, that's so easy we don't have any excuses not to comply then, do we? Do we?

War Zones

Looking across the conference room today, I noticed a young colleague wearing a "Virginia Tech" sweatshirt. Since the company I work for employs a great many engineering types, I figured this was her alma mater. I asked her, "Did you know anyone who died?" She shook her head sadly, and said, "No, but my best friend did." It breaks my heart to know about the sadness enveloping that particular college campus this week.

At the same time, equally sad is the senseless violence going on in Iraq. Today, more than 180 innocent people, out and about doing their shopping, were killed. I truly am not minimizing the Virginia Tech incident. But imagine if this was happening EVERY day? This is what is going on in Iraq and it needs to stop.

Red Sox Pizza Party 4/16/07

The most fun I've ever had at the gym was watching this event unfold before my very eyes, while on the treadmill. Enjoy!

RIP, Kurt

Sadly, it's been years since I've read any Vonnegut novels, but his death this week reminded me that I really enjoyed them. Might have to move them up on my reading list. In the meantime, check out these quotes, as my homage to one of the greats.

Be careful what you pretend to be because you are what you pretend to be.

Beware of the man who works hard to learn something, learns it, and finds himself no wiser than before.

I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can't see from the center.

If people think nature is their friend, then they sure don't need an enemy.

If you can do a half-assed job of anything, you're a one-eyed man in a kingdom of the blind.

It is a very mixed blessing to be brought back from the dead.

Laughter and tears are both responses to frustration and exhaustion. I myself prefer to laugh, since there is less cleaning up to do afterward.

Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter could be said to remedy anything.

People don't come to church for preachments, of course, but to daydream about God.

Still and all, why bother? Here's my answer. Many people need desperately to receive this message: I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone.

The year was 2081, and everyone was finally equal.

True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country.

We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be.

We could have saved the Earth but we were too damned cheap.

What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.

Who is more to be pitied, a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say?

Lena Horne -- STORMY WEATHER

I think this is probably the forecast for our weekend.

Enough.

Just When You Think It Can't Get More Bizzare...

...the National Security Advisor is looking for a war czar:

WASHINGTON - President Bush's top national security adviser said Thursday that there is an urgent need to name a high-powered White House official to oversee the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

My reaction to this is to wonder which of our presidents is whirling faster in his grave: Lincoln? Eisenhower? FDR? LBJ? Call me crazy, but isn't this what being "Commander-in-Chief" means? Or,at the very least, isn't this what the Secretary of Defense does? Maybe they should give Cheney something to do so he doesn't have to lurk in the bushes doing his Peeping Tom act.

Good Lord

A Most Remarkable Story

Came across this story from the Washington Post, which I believe was published yesterday in their Sunday Magazine, that I found fascinating.

Seems there was an experiment conducted this past January in the DC subway system during a normal weekday commute. What would happen when a world famous classical violinist, Joshua Bell, played for spare change in the subway station, using a Stradavarius violin, delivering some of the most beautiful classical music?

Would people notice? Would a crowd gather? Would people stop in their morning commute to enjoy something of exquisite beauty? What do you think?

Check it out here. And, if you go to this page, you can hear the performance from the subway tunnel, too.