Wow. Just wow.

I have no words. It's not a joke.

Vote

I'm posting, not because I have anything great to say, but because I want you to visit the shared sites on my sidebar. They're all telling you pretty much the same thing, but their combined voices raise a fantastic noise.

Vote!

Busy

To say that last week was interesting would be the understatement of the year.

Oh, and my husband is in love with Sarah Palin.

Here we go

Although my blog entries rarely focus on my religious beliefs and practice, I like to think that those beliefs and practice inform many of my entries, as they inform most of my life.

And yesterday, people like me, members of a smallish Unitarian Universalist church in Tennessee, people who value the children in their congregation, people who welcome people into their church family, regardless of sexual orientation or race or religious heritage, came under attack. If you click any of the links in my "Shared Items" sidebar, you'll get the story. You've probably already heard about it on television or any other news source.

I'm very, very angry, folks. Angrier than I remember being for a long, long time. The perpetrator of this violence - I'm having trouble calling him a man, or even a human - has hit an amazing low of cowardly, disgusting behavior. Sneaking a shotgun and an ass-ton of ammunition (in a guitar case) into a church, a peace-loving church, in which the children of the congregation were leading the service, then opening fire on the congregation, wounding many and killing, at this time, two folks who were more than qualified for AARP membership, is pretty much the apex of asshattery.

And this tree-hugging, gay-affirming, race-justice-seeking liberal woman is pissed.

I'm angry to learn that some of my brothers and sisters in faith are now afraid that they won't be safe at church.

I'm angry to think that my children may learn about this story and be afraid to go to church.

I'm angry. Just angry.

And maybe, just maybe, there's a part of my anger that was well-illustrated by one of my co-workers' comments today. "How often do liberal people go into fundamentalist churches and open fire?"

Um, none.

That's not how we roll.

My people were attacked yesterday, in a hateful, hate-filled, hate crime. My people were persecuted yesterday. My people were afraid and injured and murdered and brave. Two gentle, angry men wrestled the gun away from the murderer. One gentle, angry man gave his life to save other members of the church he served.

And gentle, angry people are lighting candles all over our nation for these people.

Please join us.

Science fair

I just finished my portion of Susie's science fair project.

Let that sink in for a moment.

See, these science fair projects are serious business. Last year, Susie and two friends teamed up to do a pretty good experiment (the effects of different liquids on tooth enamel), and they took third place. I'm convinced that they would have taken first if I had been more proactive and helped them more with the graphic design of the project.

This year, Susie has a new partner and a new topic. The two girls chose nutrition as their topic (at my suggestion...after all, I have good resources at work), and their experiment was good: for one week, they ate a typical diet and kept a food diary. For week two, they first planned a "balanced" diet based on the recommendations at www.mypyramid.gov (good stuff there, by the way), then kept a food diary again. The food diary was input (mostly by them, but also by me) into www.my-calorie-counter.com, a good-enough site that calculates calories, fiber, fat, and the like.

My portion of the project involved taking that data and feeding it into an Excel spreadsheet, then creating a zillion graphs depicting the recommended calories, fat grams, etc., comparing them to the actual calories, etc., consumed, then overlaying the percentage above or below the RDA the girls consumed.

I learned something that I didn't tell the girls. True, it's not a scientific sample, but the results played out as I expected. Susie, as a middle-class white kid with post-graduate-school-educated parents, had a pretty darn good diet in her "control" week. Her nutritional intake was very similar in weeks one and two. Her partner, on the other hand, is economically disadvantaged, African American, and has a less-than-stable family situation. I don't know her mother's educational attainment, but I suspect it's minimal based on the contact I've had with her. And this girl's diet? Is a mess. It's almost a textbook diet for how to get heart disease, an epidemic health problem in the lower income African American community. Her sodium intake is generally 2-3 times the recommended daily limit. Her sugar intake is high. Her saturated fat is high. Her fiber consumption is about half of what it should be.

But what's most disturbing about her results is that her intake of "bad" stuff (fat, saturated fat, sodium, sugar) was markedly WORSE during the Food Pyramid week. I'm not sure why. Perhaps her mother was not able to provide a balanced diet that adhered to the eating plan the girls had designed. I know her mother did not understand the plan, because she called me last Sunday evening, after I'd dropped the child off at home, asking me, "What is this mess she just handed me?" The "mess" was her daughter's food chart. I went over the project with her, explaining the experiment and what they were trying to accomplish. I explained portioning and what foods needed to be consumed in what quantities. The family does not have a computer, so I couldn't direct her to a website.

I talked to the girls today about their results as I was creating the charts. I was gentle when I told Susie's friend about the issues in her diet. I explained that she needed to look at product nutritional labels when she and her mom went to the grocery store. And I beat my favorite dead horse. Lunchables? Are the worst thing in the world that kids can eat. Except maybe rat poison.

The girls did a great job writing up their findings. And I'm about to head to the office to print all these beautiful charts (in color), as well as some pages from the food pyramid site. They'll put the whole thing together and (hopefully) win a prize next week.

I hope they learned something. And make changes accordingly. As they wrote in their report, "It's hard not to eat too much salt and sugar."

Tough call

I'm having trouble picking a favorite Democrat for the upcoming primary election. I leaned toward Edwards, then Obama, then Clinton, and back and forth. But this makes me lean closer to Hillary again.

More posting later. I'm tired right now.

8 Things for 2008

As promised, my eight lofty, yet attainable, goals for the upcoming year.

1. Utilize my gym membership. I had a good streak going for several months, but I got out of the habit after a bout with the flu. This business trip, with the two-week hotel stay, could get me back in a good exercise routine. If I lost a few pounds, I wouldn't be heartbroken.

2. Keep my desk clean. I used to have a really, really messy desk at work. I resolved, about a year ago, to spend a portion of Friday afternoon making sure my desk was clean before I left. I've done well with that and am trying to increase the frequency of the desk purge to daily. Hopefully that will spill over to my purse.

3. Stealing this one from Zoot. I'm going to take the dogs, particularly the big girl, on longer walks. I'm sure she'd be a better dog if she got more exercise. Plus, she's getting a little chubby, which is cute but certainly not healthy.

4. Eat more fruit. If I had my druthers, I'd live on cheez-its, dinner rolls with butter, and country fried steak. With macaroni and cheese on the side. Unfortunately, that's not a sensible diet for anyone. Adding a couple of pieces of fruit might help me break the cheez-it addiction.

5. Ride my bike more. I live downtown. I work downtown. I do a lot of things downtown, and I feel pretty stupid driving around, looking for parking, when I live under a mile away from most of the things I do. Our house isn't in the downtown core, but it's an easy bike ride to get most places we go. If I bothered.

6. Give more of my time to help others. Delivering meals on wheels was so easy and so rewarding that we'd be crazy not to sign up do continue throughout the year. And I'd like to find more things we can do, as a family, to help out. Especially in our own neighborhood.

7. Finish the book. Along with exercising, that's part of my two weeks in a hotel plan.

8. Get more photos printed. Not everyone wants to look at a tiny camera screen. And computers crash. I really love the photo book I made of our wedding pictures. The next step would be to make more, like for vacations, birthdays, holidays, or whatever.

Holidaze

After my thorough gift-bash that was yesterday's post, I feel like I need to come clean about something.

My kids are getting a Wii for Christmas.

See, I got this idea to do almost-nothing for the holidays not only because of my high-mindedness, but also for practical, pragmatic reasons. The kids, at 8 and 10, are getting a little old for toys. I haven't seen Alex play with a toy in ages. Susie still enjoys her dolls and animals, but even she will tell you she has plenty of them. And going to a school that requires uniforms means they don't really need clothes (I stocked up on uniforms earlier this fall...thank you, Ebay).

But they've been coveting the Wii for at least a year.

It all came together perfectly, to be honest. We're taking a trip to Florida in January, so we knew we weren't going to do a lot for Christmas. Then I saw the announcement on the bulletin board at church that MIFA needed drivers for Meals on Wheels for Christmas Day. And everything started jumbling around in my head.

(Santa spoiler ahead...if you have a believing kid reading over your shoulder, it's time to turn off the monitor. NOW.)

My kids don't believe in Santa. I don't think they ever really did. So I knew I wouldn't be ruining anything for them when I said, "What would you guys think if we didn't do any presents for Christmas and instead I just bought you a Wii?"

The jumping and screaming and giggling and chanting gave me a hint that they wouldn't be devastated.

So that's how I convinced them to be okay with no presents. By promising them the best present they could imagine. Which, yeah, seems a little bit like cheating.

But maybe it's a start. Maybe they can learn to associate Christmas with service to others (because OF COURSE they'll be riding along as we deliver the meals on wheels) instead of a great orgy of gifts. Maybe they can see the wide disparities in our city between the haves and the have-nots, and be moved to do something differently to make a little more justice.

When my kids were born, I did astrological charts for each of them. Not because I'm a big believer in astrology, but because I thought it would be something interesting for their baby books. And something jumped out at me, something that was the same on each of those charts, 22 months apart. These kids, and the millions of children born in their generation, are thought to be the children who will bring in the true "Age of Aquarius" - a time of enlightenment, justice, peace, and fixing what's broken. A generation of children who will solve problems that it took generations to create - they'll clean up the air, the earth, the water. They'll create peace. To a starry-eyed new mother, those words were just what I wanted to read: my kids are going to save the world.

Let's say that again. My kids are going to save the world.

My kids are going to save the world.

And if you're a mom with kids who aren't grown yet, yours are too.

Your kids are going to save the world.

But they can't do it if we don't teach them how. And today seems like a good day to start.

But I'm still going to let them play video games. They're just kids, after all.

Not what I expected

One of the odd side-effects of this NaNoWriMo mess I'm in is that I'm thinking a lot about war and battles and how they work. Seriously, I'm thinking of the battle choreography. And it's really, really hard to envision it, to have any clue if my protagonist was surrounded by people or not when he got wounded. Even after seeing the very spot, or very nearly, I'm still stumped.

I've never been a war buff. And not really much of a history buff. But that's not to say I'm not interested in history. Every time I visit Mud Island River Park, I read the informational signage, much of which includes Civil War information. I've read a few historical novels in my day, and I never hated history classes. And, well, fair enough, I was an art history major, too, but I was really most interested in contemporary feminist art those days, so really no reason to see a future interest in the Civil War.

But another side-effect, one I was discussing with my mom this afternoon, is that, the more I think about that war, it just makes me more certain that war is futile. Arbitrary. Let's put a bunch of young men in outfits, give them guns, and whoever kills the most of the other team gets to say their side wins, and that's how decisions will be made on a national (or global) basis. And looking at all those graves, all those boys and men dead just from one battle (and plenty of the dead from that battle aren't buried where I was...this cemetery only included the Confederate troops).

I just keep imagining how discouraged these guys had to be at that point. Okay, in all honesty, I don't really have to imagine this. The family letters make it clear. Of the three cousins who were in the same company, one of them, George, was a very observant and expressive writer. He made it so clear that, after nearly two years in this ugly, ugly war, he didn't really know what they were fighting for anymore.

Keeping in mind that these guys were from mid-state Missouri, it must have been a huge culture shock to wind up in middle Mississippi. The role of slavery was vastly different in Missouri (yes, these folks did own slaves) than it was in Mississippi, where plantations frequently had over 1,000 slaves per household. Fighting for King Cotton must have been a slap in the face for these apple and hemp farmers.

Not sure what I'm doing with this. But I'm agitated and just hate that, a century and a half later, we still send teenage boys and young men to shoot and be shot, thinking that's a reasonable way to decide world events. Insert some cliche about not learning history and being doomed to repeat it.

I've got a novel to write. Peace out.

NaNo makes me all thinky

I'm nowhere near my word count quota for NaNoWriMo (should be 1667x4=6668 at this point), but I've probably read well over 50,000 words doing research. Research I should have completed by now. That's what happens when I do no task analysis at all.

That being said, my head is better wrapped around all this stuff and I may even finish. On time. If I'm really, really good and disciplined, especially this week. And I successfully rearranged my schedule later this month to give me a chance to visit a Mississippi cemetery where the central character is buried. If I'm lucky, another character is there, too.

But here's what all this is doing to my head.

When you meet someone and they ask you where you're from, how do you answer?

Me, I say "Memphis." I don't say, "Memphis, Tennessee," or "Shelby County," or "Tennessee," or "the Mid-South." Of course, all those answers would be accurate. But that's not what comes out of my mouth.

I've met people from Texas, however, that tell me they're from Texas. It's a big state, that, so the answer is very different from mine. It's not geographic, at least not specifically. It seems to me that it speaks of a pride in place, of a heritage.

And my claim of Memphis speaks similarly, but differently. Perhaps it's a function of Memphis's place in Tennessee. Located in the southwest corner of the state, I can find myself in Arkansas or Mississippi in less than ten minutes. In all fairness, since I live seven blocks from the Mississippi River, I live closer to Arkansas than I do to most of Memphis.

If you know Tennessee geography, you'll have an idea that one can cross the state, north to south, in under two hours. Crossing the state east to west, however, takes most of a day. On the other hand, I can leave my house at eight and find myself in Missouri, having crossed into Arkansas, in under two hours.

Because of this proximity with other states, but the great distance between Memphis and other parts of my state, I don't really identify myself as a Tennessean.

(The historical research I'm doing has put all this in my head. In the Civil War, Confederate regiments were identified by state, not community. There were county militias, and those fed into the state infantries, etc. So these people I'm reading about and, ideally, writing about, talk a lot about being from Missouri, not being from a specific place in Missouri. Does this make any sense?)

So, dear reader, where are you from?

Farther from my grasp

When I was a teenager, I went to a lot of protests...protesting the U.S. funding of the Contras in Nicaragua....apartheid....whatever other issue was out there. My parents were not in love with my hippie-inspired lifestyle and attire, but my mom had moments in which I could see that she was supportive of a lot of those causes. One time, in the car, I promised, half-joking, that if I ever won the Nobel Peace Prize, I'd split the prize money with her, 50/50.

Twenty years later, I doubt I'll ever see that prize. Sorry, Mom. But someone who deserved it much more than I ever will got it today.

Another example of a man who did so much for the good of the world after his political career ended.

Hat tip to Kalisah for the link. I'm glad I can count on the local blogging community to keep me abreast of current events. And to take me shopping for something to wear to my brother's wedding.

Five of Five

The final question (which was really the first) from Slouching Mom.

1. You belong to a UU church. One criticism often levelled at Unitarianism is that it is so inclusive (a good thing, IMO) that it loses what defines one religion versus another. In other words, if you believe in everything, isn't that really the same thing as believing in nothing? How would you respond to this criticism?


Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
creed /krid/
–noun
1. any system, doctrine, or formula of religious belief, as of a denomination.
2. any system or codification of belief or of opinion.
3. an authoritative, formulated statement of the chief articles of Christian belief, as the Apostles' Creed, the Nicene Creed, or the Athanasian Creed.
4. the creed. Apostles' Creed.
[Origin: bef. 1000; ME crede, OE créda, crédō I believe; see credo] —Related forms
creedal, credal, adjective
creeded, adjective
creedless, adjective
creed·less·ness, noun
—Synonyms 1, 2. faith, conviction, credo, dogma.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.


A topic near and dear to my heart, this one. Just last night I was at a church board meeting where we viewed a video that is part of the new marketing campaign launched by the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA).

I think there's a misconception about UU that sometimes even exists within our churches. That idea that you can believe in anything you want and be a UU.

I'd like to shoot that one down right now.

When asked about our faith, many UUs frequently point out that our denomination does not have a creed. To quote the Rev. Marta Flanagan, "We uphold the free search for truth. We will not be bound by a statement of belief. We do not ask anyone to subscribe to a creed. We say ours is a non-creedal religion. Ours is a free faith." Now, according to the third and fourth definitions above, that is true. But according to the first two definitions, I'm not convinced that we're explaining ourselves very well when we wave the non-creedal flag.

Although our faith is inclusive, it is not all-inclusive. Some denominations (here I'm really thinking mostly of evangelical Christianity, but I could also include fundamentalist or orthodox sects within Judaism and Islam, and perhaps even Hindu) draw a very small circle around their beliefs. The small circle represents what they do believe, and everything outside the circle represents what they reject. Each denomination's circle is a little different; some are so similar that the differences can only be detected by those within the group. Liberal Christian (and Jewish, and Muslim, and Hindu, and Buddhist, etc.) denominations have larger circles of belief.

Unitarian Universalism, however, is perceived as having a circle so large that, in fact, there is no circle at all. There is nothing rejected. All is accepted.

That's simply not true.

In establishing our seven principles, our denomination has drawn a circle.

Unitarian Universalist congregations affirm and promote:

• The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
• Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
• Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;
• A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
• The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;
• The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;
• Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

Our circle, in its affirmation of the inherent worth and dignity of every person, rejects beliefs that create artificial hierarchies. We reject beliefs that tell wives to "graciously submit" to their husbands. We reject beliefs that form social castes. We reject beliefs that tell believers that killing others is justified and right. We reject ritual abuse and sacrifice. We reject a lot. But, even in that rejection, we must have compassion, or we're not respecting the worth and dignity of the believers in those fundamentalist, unjust religions. (Love the sinner, hate the sin, as my Baptist friends would say.)

And the other six principles uphold that first principle, which is the Unitarian Universalist "Golden Rule," the standard by which all actions and attitudes can be judged. Do my actions affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of this other person, this group of people?

Our faith's emphasis on inclusiveness is demonstrated well in our children's religious education programs, which incorporates study of world religions as well as Unitarian and Universalist history, the Bible, and social justice curricula. By teaching our children about these other faith traditions, we show them that the core beliefs of each of the major world religions are basically the same. But when we're teaching children about Buddhism, that doesn't mean we're teaching our children how to be Buddhists. We're not suggesting that they should. They already have a religion. When we visit other churches to learn about Neighboring Faiths, we never suggest to the children that they should start attending those churches regularly. Instead, we emphasize how similar many churches really are, in liturgy, in beliefs. That curriculum gives our children a more sophisticated understanding of our church's place in the surrounding faith community. They learn that, while our church is small and our denomination is really smaller, our heritage is deeply intertwined with most Protestant denominations.

We teach our children to respect other people's beliefs, even if they are different from their own. Those seven principles? Are at the core of the children's religious education program. And they form a system, a doctrine. Dare I say it? It looks like a creed to me.

Four of five

First, a little housekeeping. Sorry to have been an absentee blogger for the last several days. My wonderful parents came to visit and we were having too much fun assembling Ikea furniture for me to post anything.

Back to the questions:

Which of the Democratic candidates running for President is inspiring you lately?

Yikes. Here's the thing (and this actually refers to a conversation I had with my parents this weekend). I'm not very up on current events.

With my non-commute and MP3 player and inappropriate love for listening to politically-incorrect podcasts that contain lots of bad words, I've slipped in my understanding of global and national news.

When I worked across town and commuted to work, I was a much-better-informed voter, at least in national elections. I've never been a fan of local news (sorry!), but my commute gave me an hour or so of uninterrupted NPR listening time. When we were going to war after September 11, I had a pretty decent understanding of what was going on, so when I was critical of the administration and its actions, I was able to back up my words. These days, I'm lucky to get an hour of NPR news a week. Mostly I learn about current events from The Daily Show and Real Time with Bill Maher. Not bad sources, but I won't say they're objective. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I know more about Britney Spears and Keven Federline's custody battle than the state of the presidential race.

That being said, I do have a favorite candidate so far. Two favorites, really. One that I'll vote for and one that I wish had a fighting chance.

Dennis Kucinich and Hillary Clinton. I think you can figure out which is which, right?

Black

Susie and Alex and the kids at their school are wearing black today.

Susie chose to watch the news this morning instead of the usual choice of Full House.

And I wish I didn't have such a busy day of appointments and meetings ahead of me. Last night I almost had myself talked into driving down there. And this morning I find myself wishing I'd planned that out in advance.

My heart is in Jena, Louisiana. And it appears that I'm in good company.

Am I Liberated?

A few weekends ago, while the children were playing and having a great time, I was cleaning out drawers in my bedroom. I was cleaning out closets. While the children were upstairs watching a movie, I was surfing the intarwebs, looking for ideas for new curtains. My husband called me out on it, telling me how single-minded I can be when I'm working on a project. And that the single-mindedness, especially when it relates to window treatments, makes me lousy company. (Oh, and yes, because you asked, I did find the solution to my window covering issues. I can't wait.)


Giving myself over to this domain, the traditionally-female sphere of house and home, is something that I do in cycles, complete with manias of embroidery, quilting, and knitting. I haven't identified the pattern or frequency (it's not seasonal), nor the stimulus, but something pushes me to obsess about the house every year or two. And obsess I do. It's a little comforting to know I'm not alone in this obsession (maybe it's explained by astrology? nope...just checked and my horoscope today pretty much tells me to get a life: You need to get outside and reconnect with nature in some way. Hiking or gardening would be perfect, but it can be anything that feels right and doesn't require hours of abstract analysis to complete.).


But why do I feel a little guilty about this? Why do I think that I should be doing something more "important"? Is it because I see something lesser, something trivial in "female" domesticity? Now we're back to my women's studies days, the days when I could write a ten-page research paper, complete with footnotes, in three hours, using words I honestly don't know anymore (yes, I found some of my old term papers in all that cleaning and, in reading them, honestly didn't understand them! Because I am apparently killing my brain cells at an amazing pace! Woot!). I can discuss essentialism. I can argue either side. And I can tell you that I always had an intellectual tension with de Beauvoir because her argument against essentialism seemed to me dismissive of the feminine. (See? I can still say smart stuff.) De Beauvoir's insistence that male "transcendence" is superior to female "immanence", in statements like, "The woman who is shut up in immanence endeavors to hold man in that prison also; thus that prison will be confused with the world, and woman will no longer suffer from being confined there: mother, wife, sweetheart are the jailers," just pissed me off in college, and I don't like it any better today. What if I, a "liberated" woman, choose to revel in my immanence? What if transcendence is of no interest to me? Am I imprisoned? I don't feel imprisoned.


What's wrong with the feminine, the immanent? I'll admit upfront that I've not kept up with feminist theory since college, so my reading list only includes titles pre-1992. I remember really, really disliking Camille Paglia when she first hit the scene, telling us that if women had been in charge, we would never have progressed, as a species, to the lofty heights of the Renaissance or Modernism or any of those other things I loved so much in my college days. I disagreed, my twenty-year-old self, secure in the thought that women's softness, our sweetness, our gentleness, was simply enculturation. Camille was saying that if women were in charge we'd still be in mud huts; I countered that if women were in charge, they'd be the same as men, just with different anatomy, and that the roles would simply have reversed, based on who's in power and who's not. (Which meant that I was also guilty of dismissing the feminine, in my certainty that it was no more than a "bad habit" that girls learned as they grew up.)


But I guess that having children and living a few more years in our world has had an effect on my feminism.


These days, I see clearly that girls and boys are not the same. They're sometimes as different as cats and gerbils. But sometimes they're more alike than different. And mothers and fathers are different in how they relate to their children. Women and men are different in the workplace.


I also see that the world of women, the domestic sphere, isn't so bad. We live there, after all. Providing my family with a comfortable, attractive home is a way I demonstrate my love for them. Sometimes it's even a way I express whatever artistic intentions I still have. (And, when people come over and ooh and aah about how pretty, cozy, or whatever other positive adjective they use to describe my house, it feeds my ego a little. And I'm okay with that.) Cooking, cleaning, raising children, changing diapers: it's all hard, honest work. I would never say it's only work to be done by women (fortunately, Craig and I agree on that one), but it's traditionally been in the sphere of women.

Is it unliberated for me to want to make our house a lovely home? Is it unliberated to want window treatments that do what I want them to do (open from the top AND the bottom)? I don't think so. I think it's part of being human, whether female or male. And if knitting and quilting and making dinner and moving furniture makes me happy, then who cares? And seriously, these window treatments are so cool! Let's liberate the windows!

Honestly

I realized last week that maybe I haven't been entirely honest with you.

This was pointed out to me in this blog entry after meeting a fellow local blogger at a local coffee shop. My new friend said this:

(Sidebar here about Kaleigh:I expected her to be tall and imposing; I don't know why. She's actually petite and very sweet. "Sweet" is something that people from the South say a lot - "Oh, I love her! She's so SWEET!" I really don't say it often but I say it to describe Kaleigh because she truly is very sweet. She has this soft, sweet, almost child-like voice. It was really fun meeting her. Also? She's very smart and so grounded and we have very similar political persuasions.)

It's that last little bit, about the political persuasions, that I realize I've undershared. (But seriously, the voice part, ignore that. I have dreams of sounding like a cross between Demi Moore and Kathleen Turner, and apparently it's not happening. So yeah, it's probably more like Drew Barrymore than anything else. And any perception that I'm tall? Woot!)

People who know me, and have known me for a long time, know that I'm undeniably liberal. Because of some of the places I've worked, however, I've learned to tone that part down and not share too much of my political thinking. Plus, with the current administration being what it is, it's hard to talk much about politics without cursing or sounding smug.

Here's the deal. I'm in favor of gay marriage. I'm in favor of legal abortion. I'm in favor of good sex education and access to birth control, which should make those legal abortions quite uncommon. I'm in favor of a national healthcare plan. I oppose the war. (And, unlike some other awesome liberal people, some of whom I love and admire, I opposed it from September 12, 2001.) I favor legalizing marijuana, not just for medicinal purposes. (And no, Mom, that doesn't mean I smoke it. I don't. Because if I did, someone might take my kids away, and I like them. But I resent that, even though I probably wouldn't smoke it even if it were legal because it's much more expensive than the boxed wine.)

And the crazy liberalism even seeps into my family life. I don't spank my kids. I breastfed them for a lot longer than the national average. We used cloth diapers and one of my kids is a vegetarian. Plus, they both have fun hair. And they both actively dislike George Bush and oppose the war (which, no, I haven't forced those opinions on them; in fact, you'd be amazed at some of the things my children have said about global politics when they were quite small).

But I don't really write much about these things. Why? Am I afraid of alienating some readers? Come on! All two dozen of them? Given that most of the bloggers I've met in person are as liberal as or more liberal than I, that's not a concern.

No, the real reason I don't write much about politics or world events is that I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I'm pretty darn ignorant of such things these days. Since my commute is ten minutes on foot, I don't hear the hour of NPR news I used to hear every day. I rarely watch the evening news because I'm either not home or not in a room with a TV, and I don't listen to much radio at home because I'm usually busy with the kids. I don't read the paper. I'm sometimes awake to watch the Daily Show, my generation's preferred current events medium, but I'm just as often watching something else. (This is in stark contrast to myself years ago, by the way, when I was very much informed about current events and watched the entirety of the Iran-Contra hearings on television.)

So, there it is. I'm short, have a "sweet" voice, and I'm liberal. But it's really okay if you continue to imagine me taller and speaking more like Demi Moore. Because that's sort of how I imagine myself sometimes.

Topical, a little

The last few days, Craig and I have been watching a documentary called "Shut Up and Sing," which is about the Dixie Chicks and the aftermath of lead singer Natalie Maines's 2003 comment about being embarrassed to be from the same state as George Bush.

I'm not a fan of country music, generally speaking. I first heard the Dixie Chicks a few years before this controversy came up, maybe in 2001 or 2002. And they didn't hurt my ears. In fact, their close harmonies and use of traditional instruments pleased my ears, as did their feminist sensibility and generally cool vibe (yes, that's a technical term only used by those of us with extensive musical training...don't even try to understand if you've taken less than ten years of music lessons).

But not hating, even kind of liking, their music did not make me a fan, either. I never bought a CD or made any effort to hear their music. I simply didn't complain when I heard it at other people's houses or on their car radios.

My reaction to the 2003 controversy was a hearty, "'Atta girl!" and little more. I continued to think the Dixie Chicks were just fine, didn't bother me any, and maybe they were a little cooler than I thought if they were going the opposite direction than many country artists (think of Toby Keith's jingoism that bangs you over the head). And sure, I imagined that they'd lose a few fans for a while.

Like I said, we've been watching this documentary in bits and pieces, and we've still got another chunk to watch, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. I'm riveted, at this point, and thinking that I may need to make a trip to the music store (and trust me, this would represent a huge change in my typical behavior) and purchase their entire catalog. Because these chicks are awesome.

And, just for the record, I, too, would be embarrassed to share a home state with George Bush, but the Dixie Chicks have given me a reason to think that maybe Texas isn't so bad after all.

Read this

I can't say it better or add anything of note. Just read this.

I'm proud to say I've had a (brief, admittedly) conversation with the fantastic woman who wrote it. Are you still here? GO!

Fireworks

Last night was the largest fireworks display in the Mid-South, ever. We watched from the amazingly un-crowded Mud Island (the best view, plus the nicest spot in town). Craig and I kept commenting at how few people were there; the best we can figure is that some pretty strong thunderstorms came through part of town yesterday and maybe the folks in the 'burbs were afraid that downtown was soaked (it wasn't).

We got there a little over an hour before the display began, enough time for the kids to play in the water a bit and to set up our blankets and chairs in a prime spot, overlooking the Wolf River and close to the fireworks.

Not much to say except Loud! Bright! Shiny! Fun! Here's a visual expression of our night.

Interviewed

Pam hit me with five questions. After reading her articulate responses to her five questions, I'm a bit concerned. But I'll give it a go.

1. What is the biggest parenting "mistake" you have ever made and how did you handle it after you realized it was a mistake?

Nice way to start off easy.

Upon pondering this question for the last three hours, I'm still at a loss. There are many little mistakes we make all the time. And some miscalculations wind up working out well. My biggest frustration is the television/computer/video game thing. We never set limits on their "screen" time when they were younger, and now it seems like it's too late to make stricter rules. I haven't figured out the right answer yet, but am very open to suggestions.

The other issue that I'm not sure how to resolve is my son's dependence on his sister. He's incredibly socially dependent on her. She's his best friend. He mopes when she's not around. And he has difficulty making and maintaining his own friendships. Honestly, he'd rather hang out with her (and her friends) than anyone else. This worked out great when the kids were preschoolers, but it's not working so well anymore, and it's likely to get ugly soon. She's becoming a full-on tween, and her little brother isn't completing her world by any means. Again, I'd love some help with this.

2. How did having children change your marriage? How do you and your husband deal with the stresses of everyday life with kids?

It cemented it. Without kids, we could have split up if the going got tough. Because there wouldn't have been major consequences. But now we have much more at stake, so we're both ready, willing, and able to do what it takes to make our marriage work.

Coping with stress? Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha. Hmmm. I don't suppose that "drinking" is a good answer, right? We both exercise at least half an hour a day, and I don't hesitate to grab the dogs and their leashes and head outside if I need a break (from him OR from the kids). And I also clean the kitchen when I'm stressed. (I had a therapist recommend that one; it's much safer and healthier than throwing chairs.)

I wish I could say we have weekly date nights, but we don't. We get several weeks in the summer, however, and that sure helps. We get to act young and carefree. But we both really like the kids as much as we love them, and that makes life so much more pleasant.


3. Through the miracle of science, you can pick ONE attribute (kindness, toughness, pity, etc), and forever embed that attribute in your children. Please explain why they would be best served with this attribute all of their live vs all others.

Resourcefulness. It's so much more useful to be able to find/get/create what you need than to know everything. I'd rather have the skill of being able to locate useful information than a talent like a great memory or incredible intelligence. Because who cares if you remember the directions to some remote town in Alabama if you can just look it up online anyway?

4. You seem to be a very self-assured person. What childhood event(s) helped shape who you are today? Who was/were your role model(s)?

Moving around so much (Seven states, one other country, never staying somewhere more than 3 years) shaped who I am more than anything. I learned, quickly, how to size up a situation and see how I could fit. As a result, I have an easy time merging into groups. The downside is that I didn't get much practice in making relationships (friendships, especially) last more than a few years. I'm fortunate that I sorted it out, and I have a couple of good, long-term friends who mean the world to me. All that moving had another result: I committed myself to Memphis when I moved here, and I shall not be moved. I've lived here more than half my life and honestly cannot imagine living anywhere else. Despite its problems (and there are many), Memphis offers a quality of life that I really enjoy. Just enough cultural events, loads of diverse people, plenty of great food, and easy-to-navigate. Perfect.

Role models? My mom is an obvious one. While my lifestyle is quite different from hers when she was in the same stage of parenting, her values and mine are very similar. She sowed seeds of peacemaking and strong family loyalty, which I try to bring to fruit in my own family.

But there were other important adults. A few teachers stand out as being influential. A few of my parents' friends. People from church. And I keep meeting more.

5. If you could sit across from G.W. Bush and have a "conversation" with him, what would you say? How do you think he would respond?

I doubt I could say anything that would make sense to him. But if I could give him a magic pill that would open (and strengthen) his mind sufficiently to comprehend my point of view, I'd tell him what I most firmly believe: all our policy, all our actions, all we do, must pass the test. "Will it help the children of our world, or will it hurt them?" I daresay that much of the current administration's "accomplishments" would not pass that test. And his response? Have you read The Bush Dyslexicon? 'Nuff said.


Do YOU want to be interviewed?

Interview rules:

1. Leave me a comment saying "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with a post containing your the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.