Okay.
So it's been 48 hours since we left our oldest son on his college campus and I hugged him (tightly) good-bye. I'm writing a column about this so I don't want to go too deeply into things here except to say this feels very, very weird.
He's been away before - but the short term nature of that absence made it feel much different. The truth is, this fall could be the beginning of his permanent move away. I know - we have summers coming up and time together on school breaks but he may in fact never really live her again. That just feels too strange to even contemplate.
I've said this before but I have to echo it here - I'm not ready for this. Could it really be time for this? Clearly, the calendar tells me it is. My heart tells me something different.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Not like me. Not one bit.
What I don't understand about the viewers and voters who go wild with joy during convention speeches - coming from candidates on either side of the aisle - is this cold, stark reality that not one of them ever seems to contemplate: there is not one person on that stage who shares the middle class, lower middle class, or upper middle class lives that the viewers are living. Not one.
I'm not talking about someone's "humble beginnings." Yes, we've had some leaders that emerged from rather austere childhoods but let's face it. Once you've had a career in politics that was successful enough to land you in the national spotlight, I'm pretty sure you've left the habits of those humble beginnings pretty far behind. The last president I remember showing any vestiges of simple living was Jimmy Carter and he was criticized for taking the glamour away from the White House. (The glamour?) Rosalind Carter's book, First Lady from Plains, told quite a "fish out of water" story about their early days in Washington.
But getting back to the conventions and the candidates, I don't care how long and hard the speakers deliver their "I'm just like you" messages. Just isn't so. Every single candidate is wealthy, and privileged, and nothing like you and me.
So why do we buy it? Why do we feel like we have to connect on a supremely personal level with the politicians who want to sit at the top of the government's flow chart? Why can't we elect them without feeling the love?
The truth is, I don't care how much the president is "just like me." In fact, I hope the president is smarter, shrewder, and more collaborative than I. I want discerning, open-minded, experienced leadership in that office. I hope the president hires a staff (based on nothing but their ability, experience and character) who can execute the tasks at hand and knows when to stop micromanaging to let them do the work. I hope he or she has a track record of measurable, demonstrable, obvious success in something in this life beyond tireless campaigning and delivering rousing stump speeches.
How can a lifelong politician know anything about working in the private sector?? How does a senator who lives and works in Washington, DC, whose family lives housands of miles away, relate to the day-in, day-out challenge of raising children? (Spare me the long-distance connections and email and any other thing in defense of being involved with your children from a distance. Yes, you can be; it's certainly possible and lots of people do it.) But long-distance parenting - or even long-distance marriage - as a result of a political career by itself makes most politicians not like any of us.
Whatever happened to the idea that you don't have to like "the boss," as long as he or she does the job at hand - and then some - and treats you fairly? No one said you had to be best friends. No one said you had to simpatico to respect someone's leadership and talents.
I guess their deeper message of politicians who are "just like me" is more along the lines of this: I stand before you as the absolute embodiment of the best Americans can be. Sure, I used to be like you - but I've realized the dream. Through hard work and determination and gumption and guts and feistiness. You can, too.
Umm, no I can't. I can be the star of my own life, I guess, but other than that, I'm not going to be the next junior senator from Pennsylvania who becomes a presidential contender in 8 years.
As one of my sons put it, we can't all be the star. If we were who would sit in the audience and clap??
I'm not talking about someone's "humble beginnings." Yes, we've had some leaders that emerged from rather austere childhoods but let's face it. Once you've had a career in politics that was successful enough to land you in the national spotlight, I'm pretty sure you've left the habits of those humble beginnings pretty far behind. The last president I remember showing any vestiges of simple living was Jimmy Carter and he was criticized for taking the glamour away from the White House. (The glamour?) Rosalind Carter's book, First Lady from Plains, told quite a "fish out of water" story about their early days in Washington.
But getting back to the conventions and the candidates, I don't care how long and hard the speakers deliver their "I'm just like you" messages. Just isn't so. Every single candidate is wealthy, and privileged, and nothing like you and me.
So why do we buy it? Why do we feel like we have to connect on a supremely personal level with the politicians who want to sit at the top of the government's flow chart? Why can't we elect them without feeling the love?
The truth is, I don't care how much the president is "just like me." In fact, I hope the president is smarter, shrewder, and more collaborative than I. I want discerning, open-minded, experienced leadership in that office. I hope the president hires a staff (based on nothing but their ability, experience and character) who can execute the tasks at hand and knows when to stop micromanaging to let them do the work. I hope he or she has a track record of measurable, demonstrable, obvious success in something in this life beyond tireless campaigning and delivering rousing stump speeches.
How can a lifelong politician know anything about working in the private sector?? How does a senator who lives and works in Washington, DC, whose family lives housands of miles away, relate to the day-in, day-out challenge of raising children? (Spare me the long-distance connections and email and any other thing in defense of being involved with your children from a distance. Yes, you can be; it's certainly possible and lots of people do it.) But long-distance parenting - or even long-distance marriage - as a result of a political career by itself makes most politicians not like any of us.
Whatever happened to the idea that you don't have to like "the boss," as long as he or she does the job at hand - and then some - and treats you fairly? No one said you had to be best friends. No one said you had to simpatico to respect someone's leadership and talents.
I guess their deeper message of politicians who are "just like me" is more along the lines of this: I stand before you as the absolute embodiment of the best Americans can be. Sure, I used to be like you - but I've realized the dream. Through hard work and determination and gumption and guts and feistiness. You can, too.
Umm, no I can't. I can be the star of my own life, I guess, but other than that, I'm not going to be the next junior senator from Pennsylvania who becomes a presidential contender in 8 years.
As one of my sons put it, we can't all be the star. If we were who would sit in the audience and clap??
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Who let what happen?
I read the update of the sentence handed down to Timothy Gearhart this week, who was convicted of third-degree murder and conspiracy to commit aggravated assault, after attacking and killing Kutztown University sophomore Kyle Quinn last fall.
Speaking to the court, Gearhart apologized to Kyle Quinn's family and to his own, saying a night of ''overindulgence'' was partly to blame for his actions. He'd spent the eveing with friends in a bar.
According to the news report, the court learned the following from Gearhart: ''I didn't mean to hurt so many people. I do not know why God allowed this to happen. For the past year, I have thought of your son every day and will for the rest of my life.''
Why God allowed this to happen? Why God did? I'm pretty sure the God familiar to many people of faith, regardless of their individual beliefs, had no part in what took place at about 2:30 in the morning on Main Street in Kutztown. God wasn't dangling the puppet strings that night, watching Timothy and his two drunken friends, brothers Kenneth and Terry Kline, execute some macabre dance steps that ended in violence and death.
I believe Tim Gearhart will think of Kyle Quinn everyday for the rest of his life. That horrifying moment on Main Street that happened after last call last year cast a long, unending shadow over the lives of many, many people. Most of them will live out their lives thinking of Kyle everyday as well, never quite understanding why or how this happened. Tim says he will, too, and even though he has a minimum of twenty years to contemplate his answer, I don't think he'll come up with one for Kyle's family and friends.
But I hope he gets to the point where he recognizes that God - in whatever form God takes for him - was clearly absent from the actions he chose to take on Main Street in Kutztown last year.
Speaking to the court, Gearhart apologized to Kyle Quinn's family and to his own, saying a night of ''overindulgence'' was partly to blame for his actions. He'd spent the eveing with friends in a bar.
According to the news report, the court learned the following from Gearhart: ''I didn't mean to hurt so many people. I do not know why God allowed this to happen. For the past year, I have thought of your son every day and will for the rest of my life.''
Why God allowed this to happen? Why God did? I'm pretty sure the God familiar to many people of faith, regardless of their individual beliefs, had no part in what took place at about 2:30 in the morning on Main Street in Kutztown. God wasn't dangling the puppet strings that night, watching Timothy and his two drunken friends, brothers Kenneth and Terry Kline, execute some macabre dance steps that ended in violence and death.
I believe Tim Gearhart will think of Kyle Quinn everyday for the rest of his life. That horrifying moment on Main Street that happened after last call last year cast a long, unending shadow over the lives of many, many people. Most of them will live out their lives thinking of Kyle everyday as well, never quite understanding why or how this happened. Tim says he will, too, and even though he has a minimum of twenty years to contemplate his answer, I don't think he'll come up with one for Kyle's family and friends.
But I hope he gets to the point where he recognizes that God - in whatever form God takes for him - was clearly absent from the actions he chose to take on Main Street in Kutztown last year.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Curlers? Really?
I drove through some kind of time warp on the way home from work. For reasons I won't go into, I'' stuck scrolling thorugh radio stations these days to hear some music these days, and rarely pause on a station that's not broadcasting a song.
But, for some reason, I did stick on a station long enough to listen to a GEICO commerical today. One of the selling points was that anyone can, in fact, meet with a GEICO representative face-to-face should you desire to do so. Their business is not entirely online or over the phone. That is, unless you want it to be.
On the other hand, the friendly announcer let me know that if face-to-face won't work - because maybe I'm in curlers or something like that - the phone works just fine.
Curlers? I can't make an appointment with GEICO because I'm wearing curlers? He may be confusing me with Lucy Ricardo or Laura Petrie. Who on god's green earth wears curlers these days - especially long enough to be held captive in her house while her curlers take effect? Are you kidding me?
I'm sort of serious. If there is a woman out there who is taken out of the mainstream regularly and has to arrange her schedule around her curler-wearing habits, I want to meet her. I really do. And I want to take a really close look at your hair. If you're devoting curler time to it, it'd better be gorgeous.
GEICO is losing their clever edge if this is what passes for amusing these days.
But, for some reason, I did stick on a station long enough to listen to a GEICO commerical today. One of the selling points was that anyone can, in fact, meet with a GEICO representative face-to-face should you desire to do so. Their business is not entirely online or over the phone. That is, unless you want it to be.
On the other hand, the friendly announcer let me know that if face-to-face won't work - because maybe I'm in curlers or something like that - the phone works just fine.
Curlers? I can't make an appointment with GEICO because I'm wearing curlers? He may be confusing me with Lucy Ricardo or Laura Petrie. Who on god's green earth wears curlers these days - especially long enough to be held captive in her house while her curlers take effect? Are you kidding me?
I'm sort of serious. If there is a woman out there who is taken out of the mainstream regularly and has to arrange her schedule around her curler-wearing habits, I want to meet her. I really do. And I want to take a really close look at your hair. If you're devoting curler time to it, it'd better be gorgeous.
GEICO is losing their clever edge if this is what passes for amusing these days.
the elephant in the room
I've read several news stories and updates over the past few weeks, updating the allegations and charges against three Shenandoah teens. According to the lastest story, Judge Anthony Kilker confirmed that there was sufficient evidence against Colin Walsh, 17, and Brandon Piekarsky, 16, to try them on counts of third-degree murder and ethnic intimidation. Because there is no longer first- and second-degree murder charges against them, these young men will not face possible life in prison sentences if convicted.
The judge also ruled that Derrick Donchak, 18, was ordered to stand trial on aggravated assault.
These young men were involved in an attack that resulted in the death of Luis Ramirez, age 25.
This crime is tragic. And sickening. And clearly a case of young people who acted irratonally and outrageously in the face of an incendiary situation. For reasons only swaggering young men can understand, they overpowered and attacked another young man whom they encountered in a park, in the compnay of a youhng woman. Throw in a racial slur and a "hate crime" component and you have a situation that exploded into violence and murder.
Here's the elephant in the room.
Whatever happened to Joseph P. McTiernan? McTierman, 23, of Mahanoy City, furnished alcohol to these underage men gave alcohol to Donchak, Walsh, and Piekarsky, as well as two other underage men.
I simply can't understand why he is getting away with this. I'm inclined to believe a case could be made on behalf of the young men, including the one who dealt Ramirez his final blow, that absent the alcohol, their swagger and intimidation would have been dialed down quite a few notches that fateful night. They may have called out insults; they may have evn done a little "in your face" shouting...but murder? Literally kicking a man while he was down?
That's beer guts. Or in this case, malt liquor guts. They deserve to be heard in court but if the eyewitnesses are telling the truth, I also believe they deserve to punished according to the law. But so does McTiernan. He broke the law that initiated this horrible event.
The judge also ruled that Derrick Donchak, 18, was ordered to stand trial on aggravated assault.
These young men were involved in an attack that resulted in the death of Luis Ramirez, age 25.
This crime is tragic. And sickening. And clearly a case of young people who acted irratonally and outrageously in the face of an incendiary situation. For reasons only swaggering young men can understand, they overpowered and attacked another young man whom they encountered in a park, in the compnay of a youhng woman. Throw in a racial slur and a "hate crime" component and you have a situation that exploded into violence and murder.
Here's the elephant in the room.
Whatever happened to Joseph P. McTiernan? McTierman, 23, of Mahanoy City, furnished alcohol to these underage men gave alcohol to Donchak, Walsh, and Piekarsky, as well as two other underage men.
I simply can't understand why he is getting away with this. I'm inclined to believe a case could be made on behalf of the young men, including the one who dealt Ramirez his final blow, that absent the alcohol, their swagger and intimidation would have been dialed down quite a few notches that fateful night. They may have called out insults; they may have evn done a little "in your face" shouting...but murder? Literally kicking a man while he was down?
That's beer guts. Or in this case, malt liquor guts. They deserve to be heard in court but if the eyewitnesses are telling the truth, I also believe they deserve to punished according to the law. But so does McTiernan. He broke the law that initiated this horrible event.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Once again, Olympic confusion
I'm not one of those people who goes Olympic crazy everytime the Olympics come to life and take over everyone's entire existence for about three weeks before fading away for a few years. So as a result of my only very casual interest, I don't have tons of Olympic facts at hand, like those people who are superfans and know every statistic, every athlete, every backstory, every nuance of competition.
With all that said, I have a question or two. I've watched very little television coverage but a few puzzling thoughts immediately occured to me:
Synchronized diving? Isn't it enough that someone can execute these amazing dives as an individual? Why do two divers have to match? Who said doing this side by side is worth judging? Is there a reason synchronization is connected to water competition? Why not synchronized pole vaulting? Synchronized archery? Synchronized curling in the Winter Olympics?
More pressing is this: why are the male swimmers wearing more fabric on their bodies than the female beach volleyball players? I know. Something about slickness and cutting through the water with very little drag that results in faster times and new world records. But what could the volleyball "uniforms" - and I use that term in the same way someone could call lingerie "pajamas" - possibly be contributing to their performace as athletes? The female volleyball players are wearing bras and bikini pants. Is there a reason wearing shorts and tops would have a negative impact on their games?
Hey - that sand isn't all that soft. In fact, I'm guessing it can be pretty abrasive so wouldn't the players welcome bike shorts and tank tops? The male volleyball players wear shorts and tank tops.
Well, I'm not some enormous volleyball fan and maybe there is some compelling reason the women are on display in fairly revealing "uniforms," but if you're going to outfit the women in tight, tiny underwear, I say the men should play in their skins -no shirts. I've never seen men play volleyball wearing clothing on the top half of their bodies. In fact, the Olympics is probably the only venue on the planet where men do wear shirts to play volleyball.
I'm sure I'll have more puzzling thoughts about the Olympics in the weeks to come. If I get a chance to post them, I will. And welcome your thoughts as well!
With all that said, I have a question or two. I've watched very little television coverage but a few puzzling thoughts immediately occured to me:
Synchronized diving? Isn't it enough that someone can execute these amazing dives as an individual? Why do two divers have to match? Who said doing this side by side is worth judging? Is there a reason synchronization is connected to water competition? Why not synchronized pole vaulting? Synchronized archery? Synchronized curling in the Winter Olympics?
More pressing is this: why are the male swimmers wearing more fabric on their bodies than the female beach volleyball players? I know. Something about slickness and cutting through the water with very little drag that results in faster times and new world records. But what could the volleyball "uniforms" - and I use that term in the same way someone could call lingerie "pajamas" - possibly be contributing to their performace as athletes? The female volleyball players are wearing bras and bikini pants. Is there a reason wearing shorts and tops would have a negative impact on their games?
Hey - that sand isn't all that soft. In fact, I'm guessing it can be pretty abrasive so wouldn't the players welcome bike shorts and tank tops? The male volleyball players wear shorts and tank tops.
Well, I'm not some enormous volleyball fan and maybe there is some compelling reason the women are on display in fairly revealing "uniforms," but if you're going to outfit the women in tight, tiny underwear, I say the men should play in their skins -no shirts. I've never seen men play volleyball wearing clothing on the top half of their bodies. In fact, the Olympics is probably the only venue on the planet where men do wear shirts to play volleyball.
I'm sure I'll have more puzzling thoughts about the Olympics in the weeks to come. If I get a chance to post them, I will. And welcome your thoughts as well!
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
What is it they say about statistics, again?
A few weeks ago, on April 29 to be exact, The NYT ran a troubling article that recapped the torturous last days of college admission being endured by anxious high school seniors across the country.
According to the article, by Tara Parker Pope, this year's class of applicants faced some pretty tough competition and it's only going to get worse. One of the numbers cited is that 90% of the applicants to Harvard and Yale were rejected.
Unfortunately for many seniors, the arrival of that fat acceptance letter is their ticket to legitimacy. It proves that they are successful. In cases where the envelopes are slim and the news is not so good, students are suffering severely. The article quotes doctors and teachers who report sleeplessness, stomach pain and headaches among seniors who are facing rejection from a favored school.
The most troubling part of the story was this quote, from Denise Pope of Standford University: "...some of these kids have had college on the brain since sixth or seventh grade or even earlier. [emphasis mine] When you have that kind of stress over that kind of time, that's where it starts to worry us."
I'm sorry but if there is even one child out there who begins stressing about college acceptance at the age of 9, we are really doing something wrong.
One story recounted the perfect SAT scores of a student, a young man who rowed crew, played golf, performed in the school musical and thanked third in his class. Good kid, right? Nice catch for any school, right? He was rejected by both Stanford and Princeton.
Luckily, he was pragmatic about the news. As he put it, "I realize I didn't found a company or discover a new insect. I feel like it's coming to a point where you have to do something like that to get into schools like Princeton or Stanford."
That may be true; it seems like he would have been an asset to any number of schools, including those two.
But according to another story I read, we shouldn't be surprised by his news. Another Times article, this one from April 1, reported that "Elite Colleges Reporting Record Lows in Admission." Interesting, I thought. I wonder why?
I read the article to find out. Turns out, elite colleges are not admitting fewer students. It's just that more students are applying than in the past so the numbers look lower. The percentage of students being admitted is nearly the same as it's always been. Here are the numbers:
Yale College accepted 8.3% of its 22,813 applicants. Wow - seems very tough indeed.
In order to prove the point about record lows in admission, they compared this figure to the numbers Yale reported ten years ago. At that time, "slightly fewer than 12,000 students applied to Yale, but the admittance rate was nearly 18%."
Ummmm - calling all Math 101 professors. 8.3% of 22,813 applicants is 1,893. 17.8% (nearly 18%) of 11,850 (slightly fewer than 12,000) is 2,109. (Both those percentages and totals are my estimates based on the information at hand.) So let me understand this: a difference of 216 students is the basis for these "record low" admissions?
I think the article took the wrong approach to this information. For me, the question is this: In 2008, why did some 10,000 more students applying to college believe they were Yale material? Are they that much smarter than they were in 1998? If you watch the SAT reports each year, the answer is no - the numbers are going down.
So what is it? Can you spell entitlement? Somehow, I think that applies here.
According to the article, by Tara Parker Pope, this year's class of applicants faced some pretty tough competition and it's only going to get worse. One of the numbers cited is that 90% of the applicants to Harvard and Yale were rejected.
Unfortunately for many seniors, the arrival of that fat acceptance letter is their ticket to legitimacy. It proves that they are successful. In cases where the envelopes are slim and the news is not so good, students are suffering severely. The article quotes doctors and teachers who report sleeplessness, stomach pain and headaches among seniors who are facing rejection from a favored school.
The most troubling part of the story was this quote, from Denise Pope of Standford University: "...some of these kids have had college on the brain since sixth or seventh grade or even earlier. [emphasis mine] When you have that kind of stress over that kind of time, that's where it starts to worry us."
I'm sorry but if there is even one child out there who begins stressing about college acceptance at the age of 9, we are really doing something wrong.
One story recounted the perfect SAT scores of a student, a young man who rowed crew, played golf, performed in the school musical and thanked third in his class. Good kid, right? Nice catch for any school, right? He was rejected by both Stanford and Princeton.
Luckily, he was pragmatic about the news. As he put it, "I realize I didn't found a company or discover a new insect. I feel like it's coming to a point where you have to do something like that to get into schools like Princeton or Stanford."
That may be true; it seems like he would have been an asset to any number of schools, including those two.
But according to another story I read, we shouldn't be surprised by his news. Another Times article, this one from April 1, reported that "Elite Colleges Reporting Record Lows in Admission." Interesting, I thought. I wonder why?
I read the article to find out. Turns out, elite colleges are not admitting fewer students. It's just that more students are applying than in the past so the numbers look lower. The percentage of students being admitted is nearly the same as it's always been. Here are the numbers:
Yale College accepted 8.3% of its 22,813 applicants. Wow - seems very tough indeed.
In order to prove the point about record lows in admission, they compared this figure to the numbers Yale reported ten years ago. At that time, "slightly fewer than 12,000 students applied to Yale, but the admittance rate was nearly 18%."
Ummmm - calling all Math 101 professors. 8.3% of 22,813 applicants is 1,893. 17.8% (nearly 18%) of 11,850 (slightly fewer than 12,000) is 2,109. (Both those percentages and totals are my estimates based on the information at hand.) So let me understand this: a difference of 216 students is the basis for these "record low" admissions?
I think the article took the wrong approach to this information. For me, the question is this: In 2008, why did some 10,000 more students applying to college believe they were Yale material? Are they that much smarter than they were in 1998? If you watch the SAT reports each year, the answer is no - the numbers are going down.
So what is it? Can you spell entitlement? Somehow, I think that applies here.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
is anyone measuring this footprint?
To promote her new autobiography, Audition, celebrity newswoman Barbara Walters is doing what almost every author on the planet can only dream about: she's taking her story on the road and visiting 25 cities to promote her book. As I write this, the book is # 1 on the Amazon bestseller list.
This tour intrigues me for a number of reasons. First off, the number one thing publishers want to know about anyone who submits a book proposal is not what your story is, not what your goals are, not the wisdom you have to share with book buyers around the world nor the poetic voice in which you will deliver that message. Not one of those things matters to publishers. What matters most is that you have a "platform," a built-in audience who will not only welcome the news that you've written a book, they'll rush out to buy a copy or two or three as well. Having a platform means that the publishers can P/L your book with some measure of comfort about the number of books that will sell right off the bat; it means they can count on your audience to support their investment in you. It also means they won't have to engage a publicist to promote you or your book. They won't have to spend much on advertising or marketing. In other words, you've done their job for them.
But in the case of writers who may need a boost, whose platform may be lacking a bit in scope or reach, those writers who could benefit from some face time with a crowd to build momentum for their book, publishers create the "book tour" and put authors on the road. Authors visit bookstores and sell and sign books to their anxious public - or not. I've attended some book signings where the store is so empty your voice echoes. Yes, a tour can work but it's expensive and risky - for everyone.
So - at the risk of sounding jealous and petty, let me pose the following questions. Why is Barbara Walters on a 25-city book tour? Doesn't she have a national platform large enough to engender some good will with her publisher? Isn't it enough that she produces a daily talk show, commands network attention anytime she wants it to conduct her celebrity interviews and is arguably the most well-known female television journalist in the world? Is it possible her book will NOT sell because no one will have heard of her or heard of it? Particularly since she leaked the intriguing tidbit about her affair with a married politician some forty years ago?
But all that aside, here's what's really bothering me. According to a report in Publisher's Weekly, Ms. Walters is using private jet to travel to her tour cities. A private jet. Why isn't someone from the green police writing a scathing OP Ed about the wretched excess of Ms. Walters and condemning this wasteful carbon footprint from the sake of promoting a soon-to-be-bestseller book?
If a journalist from the FOX network or another conservative-leaning organization were doing the same thing to promote their own book, you can bet the media would be screaming for their decidedly not-green head.
This tour intrigues me for a number of reasons. First off, the number one thing publishers want to know about anyone who submits a book proposal is not what your story is, not what your goals are, not the wisdom you have to share with book buyers around the world nor the poetic voice in which you will deliver that message. Not one of those things matters to publishers. What matters most is that you have a "platform," a built-in audience who will not only welcome the news that you've written a book, they'll rush out to buy a copy or two or three as well. Having a platform means that the publishers can P/L your book with some measure of comfort about the number of books that will sell right off the bat; it means they can count on your audience to support their investment in you. It also means they won't have to engage a publicist to promote you or your book. They won't have to spend much on advertising or marketing. In other words, you've done their job for them.
But in the case of writers who may need a boost, whose platform may be lacking a bit in scope or reach, those writers who could benefit from some face time with a crowd to build momentum for their book, publishers create the "book tour" and put authors on the road. Authors visit bookstores and sell and sign books to their anxious public - or not. I've attended some book signings where the store is so empty your voice echoes. Yes, a tour can work but it's expensive and risky - for everyone.
So - at the risk of sounding jealous and petty, let me pose the following questions. Why is Barbara Walters on a 25-city book tour? Doesn't she have a national platform large enough to engender some good will with her publisher? Isn't it enough that she produces a daily talk show, commands network attention anytime she wants it to conduct her celebrity interviews and is arguably the most well-known female television journalist in the world? Is it possible her book will NOT sell because no one will have heard of her or heard of it? Particularly since she leaked the intriguing tidbit about her affair with a married politician some forty years ago?
But all that aside, here's what's really bothering me. According to a report in Publisher's Weekly, Ms. Walters is using private jet to travel to her tour cities. A private jet. Why isn't someone from the green police writing a scathing OP Ed about the wretched excess of Ms. Walters and condemning this wasteful carbon footprint from the sake of promoting a soon-to-be-bestseller book?
If a journalist from the FOX network or another conservative-leaning organization were doing the same thing to promote their own book, you can bet the media would be screaming for their decidedly not-green head.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
hydration schmydration
I haven't seen this story hit the front page yet but I was amused and bemused to read the latest health update in the NYT earlier this week. The short item was titled Perceptions: Go Ahead, Put the Water Bottle Down.
Turns out, according to Dr. Stanley Goldfarb, professor of medicine at the University of Pennsylvania, and a team of researchers, there is not now, nor has there ever been, scientific evidence that proves the health benefits of drinking eight glasses of water every day. Even that mostly benign little claim is unsubstantiated according to the men who searched for the facts.
I don't know about you, but I have spent my entire life listening to everyone from dietitians to exercise gurus to my mother opine about the benefits of drinking water - lots of it. And now according to Dr. Goldfarb and his colleagues, none of the claims that are made about the curative and restorative benefits of drinking water - like relief from headaches, removing "toxins," keeping various organs of ours in top shape and reducing the risk of conditions like hypertension - have even been scientifically proven.
Could drinking water possibly help people control their weight and decrease appetite? Yes. Well - possibly, yes. More study and research is necessary before the evidence points to one answer or another.
And the truth is, it's doubtful that water is literally harmful to us so in that sense, it's a good beverage. I'd rather fill up on water than empty calories (spoken like a woman who has been dieting since the age of 17.)
I love the conclusion Dr. Goldfarb offers us in the Times article. Since, under normal conditions - not during a grueling trek through the Sahara, not during a bout of excessive dry mouth after surgery, not with the onset of a diabetic condition, not even after one awakens from a beer-soaked frat party the previous night not that I've even experienced that - he and his colleagues doubt any real health benefit from drinking massive quantities of water. "I want to relieve people of schlepping around a water bottle all day long."
I love that!
Carrying around water bottles has become something of a label these days. It's like listening to NPR or voting for Ralph Nader. You're somehow more enlightened and feel smarter than everyone else if you carry your own water - to every meeting, on every walk, in every moment of your life you have access to ready hydration. I've even seen people pull out a bottle of water and drink it in church, for god's sake. (Well, for their own sake, actually.) Unless there is some kind of unique medical condition here, can you really not live for sixty minutes without a drink of water?
Please. Enjoy your water. Drink up. Just stop making it into a political / superior statement about how smart you are since - according to the research - it provides no measurable health benefit.
Turns out, according to Dr. Stanley Goldfarb, professor of medicine at the University of Pennsylvania, and a team of researchers, there is not now, nor has there ever been, scientific evidence that proves the health benefits of drinking eight glasses of water every day. Even that mostly benign little claim is unsubstantiated according to the men who searched for the facts.
I don't know about you, but I have spent my entire life listening to everyone from dietitians to exercise gurus to my mother opine about the benefits of drinking water - lots of it. And now according to Dr. Goldfarb and his colleagues, none of the claims that are made about the curative and restorative benefits of drinking water - like relief from headaches, removing "toxins," keeping various organs of ours in top shape and reducing the risk of conditions like hypertension - have even been scientifically proven.
Could drinking water possibly help people control their weight and decrease appetite? Yes. Well - possibly, yes. More study and research is necessary before the evidence points to one answer or another.
And the truth is, it's doubtful that water is literally harmful to us so in that sense, it's a good beverage. I'd rather fill up on water than empty calories (spoken like a woman who has been dieting since the age of 17.)
I love the conclusion Dr. Goldfarb offers us in the Times article. Since, under normal conditions - not during a grueling trek through the Sahara, not during a bout of excessive dry mouth after surgery, not with the onset of a diabetic condition, not even after one awakens from a beer-soaked frat party the previous night not that I've even experienced that - he and his colleagues doubt any real health benefit from drinking massive quantities of water. "I want to relieve people of schlepping around a water bottle all day long."
I love that!
Carrying around water bottles has become something of a label these days. It's like listening to NPR or voting for Ralph Nader. You're somehow more enlightened and feel smarter than everyone else if you carry your own water - to every meeting, on every walk, in every moment of your life you have access to ready hydration. I've even seen people pull out a bottle of water and drink it in church, for god's sake. (Well, for their own sake, actually.) Unless there is some kind of unique medical condition here, can you really not live for sixty minutes without a drink of water?
Please. Enjoy your water. Drink up. Just stop making it into a political / superior statement about how smart you are since - according to the research - it provides no measurable health benefit.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
is it any wonder we're all broke?
I saw a new favorite commercial on television the other night from one of my least favorite advertisers: VISA.
It depicts a man - baby-boomerish age - sitting in front of a large, state of the art flat screen TV - and a salesperson hovering around him, spelling out the features of the set, and no doubt encouraging a purchase. (Note that there is no woman in the commercial, looking askance at the possibility of spending thousands of dollars on a television.)
Luckily for the consumer to be, now completely entranced by the television and the hours of ecstasy it can provide, VISA is there - electronically of course - to help him make that difficult buying decision. Now, you can use your phone to have VISA send you a message about your credit limit, so you can decide on the spot whether or not to add another $5,000 to your card.
Isn't that so helpful? Now you don't even have to check your balance, or wait for your next statement, or make a phone call to see where you stand with your credit. You can just email them using your phone and find out immediately that it's a wonderful idea to add thousands of dollars to your balance.
This is completely ridiculous. Anyone who sends a text message to VISA to check his credit limit in order to buy a big screen TV is an infant who has no concept of something called delayed gratification. Pathetic.
And yet - I'll bet the message of the commercial is a big hit with consumers who can't wait to get deeper into debt with toys and gadgets they can't live without. I'm sure VISA's market research told them this was exactly the right move to make to capture even more financial half-wits who have no concept of money, debt and credit.
And - by the way - I don't have anything against large, flat screen TVs. I covet one in fact - just haven't quite seen my way clear to purchasing one for our family to enjoy. Things like tuition, rising household expenses and saving for the future always seem to take priority. Rats. I hate it when I'm sensible that way.
It depicts a man - baby-boomerish age - sitting in front of a large, state of the art flat screen TV - and a salesperson hovering around him, spelling out the features of the set, and no doubt encouraging a purchase. (Note that there is no woman in the commercial, looking askance at the possibility of spending thousands of dollars on a television.)
Luckily for the consumer to be, now completely entranced by the television and the hours of ecstasy it can provide, VISA is there - electronically of course - to help him make that difficult buying decision. Now, you can use your phone to have VISA send you a message about your credit limit, so you can decide on the spot whether or not to add another $5,000 to your card.
Isn't that so helpful? Now you don't even have to check your balance, or wait for your next statement, or make a phone call to see where you stand with your credit. You can just email them using your phone and find out immediately that it's a wonderful idea to add thousands of dollars to your balance.
This is completely ridiculous. Anyone who sends a text message to VISA to check his credit limit in order to buy a big screen TV is an infant who has no concept of something called delayed gratification. Pathetic.
And yet - I'll bet the message of the commercial is a big hit with consumers who can't wait to get deeper into debt with toys and gadgets they can't live without. I'm sure VISA's market research told them this was exactly the right move to make to capture even more financial half-wits who have no concept of money, debt and credit.
And - by the way - I don't have anything against large, flat screen TVs. I covet one in fact - just haven't quite seen my way clear to purchasing one for our family to enjoy. Things like tuition, rising household expenses and saving for the future always seem to take priority. Rats. I hate it when I'm sensible that way.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
signs of the times
Because the Pennsylvania primary is a matter of days away, neighborhoods have begun sprouting signs, promoting the candidate of choice in that household. I can't help but wonder about the time, effort and focus-grouping that goes into the final design of those placards and signs, as they create an image, implant an impression, call out a message to us as we pass by them each day.
What's extremely interesting to me is the choice one of the candidates - or that candidate's committee - made with the sign. You'll notice one of the democratic candidates is using first name only to remind voters of her candidacy: Hillary. You have to ask yourself why.
I can't think of another candidate who ran on his or her first name in a presidential election. And it's obviously not because she has something to hide with her last name. Clinton is about as successful a political name as there could be in national politics.
It's also not because it's unprecedented that someone traded on political clout in a campaign. George W. didn't run as George W. if you recall. All of those signs used his well-known last name: Bush.
I wasn't part of the focus groups but I'm going to guess this was a girl decision. Women use first names when we address each other or refer to another woman. Men use last names more commonly than we do.
By noting Hillary on her signs, we feel like she just might be the girlfriend we have in Washington. It's familiar. It's a fun name. It's not dowdy or boring or conventional. It's hip. It's classy. It's modern.
Somehow, I think if Mrs. Clinton's first name were Gertrude or Mildred or Blanche or Ethel, we wouldn't see those signs posted around town. Male presidents can have very traditional names - they almost all do, in fact. They conjure up images of steadfast, loyal, trustworthy, reliable men.
And what of Barack Obama? Do you wonder if he considered - even for a day or so - going by 'Barry,' not Barack? You have to believe someone somewhere floated the idea by him. His signs contain his last name only: Obama. In this case, both his first and last name are not exactly mainstream American name lexicon - it's a toss up about which would be the catch-word to capture him for the masses. Obama is more lyrical. And it is following tradition to use a last name only on a sign.
It will be interesting to see who is the candidate and who is the eventual running mate of that candidate. I'd love to see Hillary choose her husband for many reasons, not the least of which is that her signs may then read Hillary and Bill or even better, Clinton and Clinton.
I have no idea who would make the right partner for his sign. Whomever he chooses will most likely bring a waspy sounding name to the ticket, which may help or may cause more confusion. It may create a complete disconnect to voters. Obama Richardson sounds like people from two different parts of the planet. Same with Obama Edwards. Doesn't really work, does it?
What's extremely interesting to me is the choice one of the candidates - or that candidate's committee - made with the sign. You'll notice one of the democratic candidates is using first name only to remind voters of her candidacy: Hillary. You have to ask yourself why.
I can't think of another candidate who ran on his or her first name in a presidential election. And it's obviously not because she has something to hide with her last name. Clinton is about as successful a political name as there could be in national politics.
It's also not because it's unprecedented that someone traded on political clout in a campaign. George W. didn't run as George W. if you recall. All of those signs used his well-known last name: Bush.
I wasn't part of the focus groups but I'm going to guess this was a girl decision. Women use first names when we address each other or refer to another woman. Men use last names more commonly than we do.
By noting Hillary on her signs, we feel like she just might be the girlfriend we have in Washington. It's familiar. It's a fun name. It's not dowdy or boring or conventional. It's hip. It's classy. It's modern.
Somehow, I think if Mrs. Clinton's first name were Gertrude or Mildred or Blanche or Ethel, we wouldn't see those signs posted around town. Male presidents can have very traditional names - they almost all do, in fact. They conjure up images of steadfast, loyal, trustworthy, reliable men.
And what of Barack Obama? Do you wonder if he considered - even for a day or so - going by 'Barry,' not Barack? You have to believe someone somewhere floated the idea by him. His signs contain his last name only: Obama. In this case, both his first and last name are not exactly mainstream American name lexicon - it's a toss up about which would be the catch-word to capture him for the masses. Obama is more lyrical. And it is following tradition to use a last name only on a sign.
It will be interesting to see who is the candidate and who is the eventual running mate of that candidate. I'd love to see Hillary choose her husband for many reasons, not the least of which is that her signs may then read Hillary and Bill or even better, Clinton and Clinton.
I have no idea who would make the right partner for his sign. Whomever he chooses will most likely bring a waspy sounding name to the ticket, which may help or may cause more confusion. It may create a complete disconnect to voters. Obama Richardson sounds like people from two different parts of the planet. Same with Obama Edwards. Doesn't really work, does it?
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
on the other hand...
...in many, many cases, the growing up experience has not one thing in common with applying to colleges.
A friendly email from a reader responding to my column on Sunday reminded me gently of that fact. And he was right. The world is full of talented, skilled, energetic, creative, accomplished, successful people who have never stepped foot on a college campus.
Reading the email served as a reminder to me that my own perspective is not the only perspective. (Yes, I write an opinion column and as such, it needs perspective, preferably my own. But I appreciate people pointing out the obvious from time to time - something along the lines of: "Hey genuis! Did you ever consider ____??" Many times, I haven't.)
The school year is coming to an end for thousands of high school seniors who will graduate and begin their lives as working adults. Maybe they'll follow up on some training they began during their high school years and become skilled tradespeople, working with professonals who will continue their education, on the job.
Maybe they'll take a job in a restaurant, a retail store, a medical facility or in a business setting, and learn how to do the job at hand.
Not one of them is checking the daily mail for acceptance or rejection letters. Not one of them composed an essay about their unique talents and why they should be accepted in a university. And not one of them is taking on many thousands of dollars of debt to continue their education.
To them I say congratulations - welcome to the workforce - and believe it or not, no matter how much you looked forward to graduating, you will miss those carefree high school days.
http://www.mcall.com/news/opinion/oped/all-james3-23.6320510mar23,0,7686104.column
A friendly email from a reader responding to my column on Sunday reminded me gently of that fact. And he was right. The world is full of talented, skilled, energetic, creative, accomplished, successful people who have never stepped foot on a college campus.
Reading the email served as a reminder to me that my own perspective is not the only perspective. (Yes, I write an opinion column and as such, it needs perspective, preferably my own. But I appreciate people pointing out the obvious from time to time - something along the lines of: "Hey genuis! Did you ever consider ____??" Many times, I haven't.)
The school year is coming to an end for thousands of high school seniors who will graduate and begin their lives as working adults. Maybe they'll follow up on some training they began during their high school years and become skilled tradespeople, working with professonals who will continue their education, on the job.
Maybe they'll take a job in a restaurant, a retail store, a medical facility or in a business setting, and learn how to do the job at hand.
Not one of them is checking the daily mail for acceptance or rejection letters. Not one of them composed an essay about their unique talents and why they should be accepted in a university. And not one of them is taking on many thousands of dollars of debt to continue their education.
To them I say congratulations - welcome to the workforce - and believe it or not, no matter how much you looked forward to graduating, you will miss those carefree high school days.
http://www.mcall.com/news/opinion/oped/all-james3-23.6320510mar23,0,7686104.column
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Inexplicable and yet, yes, still annoying
Okay, I'll admit I don't know much about men but I really don't understand this thing so many of them have about sports teams, and loyalty and unrelenting passion year after year for a game. I've had men try to explain this to me and believe me, they get no where.
The mystery about men and sports was in the headlines over the past few days because comedian Billy Crystal was able to fufill a lifelong dream - a LIFELONG DREAM - LIFELONG!!!! - to play baseball with his favorite team, the New York Yankees. He got to wear a real uniform and face a real major league pitcher and stand at bat and try to get a real honest-to-God hit during spring training with the Yankees. Apparently he got ahead on the count and then struck out.
Wow. I wish I could relate to this on some level but I can't do it. Just can't summon up much to help me conjure up what this felt like for him. Oh wait - maybe having a baby? Creating the miracle of birth, perhaps, and in a matter of seconds have a living, precious, newborn baby emerge from my body and begin life as an independent human being on this planet? Maybe that? Maybe not. I'm sure he felt something just a little deeper, a little more cosmic, a little more mystical when he swung at the ball.
The funniest stories I've read about men and sports in a long time are found in a book titled True Believers by one of my favorite writers of all time, Joe Queenan. All I can tell you is that if you want the definitive book on men as fans, particularly men who relentlessly support perennial losers, please treat yourself to this book.
But getting back to Crystal and his fascination with the Yankees, I'll have to quote Queenan because I can't do better: "Crystal is one of those infuriating New Yorkers who acts as if his passion for the Yankees involves some sort of risk, when in fact saying you support the Yankees is like saying you support the air."
I haven't looked at the comments people posted about this story on MSN because I didn't want them to influence this post with the thoughts of others. I plan to check them out, though. I'm sure they'll run ten to one in favor of this whole episode - full of delight as they exclaim over this story. They'll mostly come from men who express some kind of desire to experience the same ridiculous fantasy Crystal has vicariously lived for millions of men in America.
You wait. Next year, Crystal will produce a documentary about his Yankee at-bat experience, or start a reality show about giving people their fantasy come true or some such nonsense. I could do without that. But I could've done without this whole story, too, and that didn't seem to matter.
Star indulgence and supremely annoying fan wrapped into one story. Almost like a double-header of aggravation.
http://amazon.com/true-believers
http://msn.foxsports.com/mlb
Thanks for visiting -
The mystery about men and sports was in the headlines over the past few days because comedian Billy Crystal was able to fufill a lifelong dream - a LIFELONG DREAM - LIFELONG!!!! - to play baseball with his favorite team, the New York Yankees. He got to wear a real uniform and face a real major league pitcher and stand at bat and try to get a real honest-to-God hit during spring training with the Yankees. Apparently he got ahead on the count and then struck out.
Wow. I wish I could relate to this on some level but I can't do it. Just can't summon up much to help me conjure up what this felt like for him. Oh wait - maybe having a baby? Creating the miracle of birth, perhaps, and in a matter of seconds have a living, precious, newborn baby emerge from my body and begin life as an independent human being on this planet? Maybe that? Maybe not. I'm sure he felt something just a little deeper, a little more cosmic, a little more mystical when he swung at the ball.
The funniest stories I've read about men and sports in a long time are found in a book titled True Believers by one of my favorite writers of all time, Joe Queenan. All I can tell you is that if you want the definitive book on men as fans, particularly men who relentlessly support perennial losers, please treat yourself to this book.
But getting back to Crystal and his fascination with the Yankees, I'll have to quote Queenan because I can't do better: "Crystal is one of those infuriating New Yorkers who acts as if his passion for the Yankees involves some sort of risk, when in fact saying you support the Yankees is like saying you support the air."
I haven't looked at the comments people posted about this story on MSN because I didn't want them to influence this post with the thoughts of others. I plan to check them out, though. I'm sure they'll run ten to one in favor of this whole episode - full of delight as they exclaim over this story. They'll mostly come from men who express some kind of desire to experience the same ridiculous fantasy Crystal has vicariously lived for millions of men in America.
You wait. Next year, Crystal will produce a documentary about his Yankee at-bat experience, or start a reality show about giving people their fantasy come true or some such nonsense. I could do without that. But I could've done without this whole story, too, and that didn't seem to matter.
Star indulgence and supremely annoying fan wrapped into one story. Almost like a double-header of aggravation.
http://amazon.com/true-believers
http://msn.foxsports.com/mlb
Thanks for visiting -
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
a postscript to E.P.L.
In response to Sunday's column about my strong, somewhat dismissive commentary about the book Eat, Pray, Love, I'm relieved to report that the responses I've received from women have been 100% supportive. Writing that column was kind of risky - the book is beloved by millions, and most women I know who liked it seem like perfectly reasonable people to me. Which is why I feel so confused. Maybe I'm really missing something. Maybe I'm just too grouchy to live.
So many of us find ourselves in the same psychological boat: we're challenged by everyone from Oprah to people like Elizabeth Gilbert and her ilk to "discover" ourselves but we're very, very busy trying to keep up with everyday life. It simply angers me beyond words when I hear about women who are "searching" and "contemplating," and think they are doing us some kind of cosmic favor by encouraging us to join their search for truth.
These models of personal growth seem to have crossed a line somewhere that creates - for me at least - a great divide. I'm not sure exactly what belongs on either side of that divide but the women occupying each space are substantively different. I'm going to guess that on one side, women use a phrase like "teachable moment" when they discuss experiences about raising their children. Women on the other side have never uttered those two words in the same sentence, much less as a standard phrase. Women on the enlightened side arrange play dates and memorize the school nurse's phone extension on the first day of school. The rest of us are trying hard to keep up with everything every weekend and have a school contact list posted on or near every phone in our home.
I'm not saying there's anything particularly wrong with any of those "enlightened side" attributes but when they're all wrapped up in an "I'm more evolved than you are, you poor thing" aura, it's nauseating.
I appreciate hearing from women who helped me feel like I'm not completely crazy. I'm not some kind of misanthrope who hates everyone. But I have little tolerance for privileged women who make the rest of us feel like losers. In the spirit of Nancy Reagan, we need to "just say no" to these modern day gurus of garbage. I may not be all that enlightened, but I'm hanging in there. It's gratifying to hear I'm not alone.
Thanks for visiting -
R
PS
Opening email in the days following a column is always a challenge. Some people spend a lot of time and energy telling me exactly what a jerk I am, and what a waste of space my weekly column is. What I can't understnd in cases like that is why the bother to read me if I'm such an idiot. I don't waste time reading articles or columns by people who have little of interest to say to me. Why do they??
So many of us find ourselves in the same psychological boat: we're challenged by everyone from Oprah to people like Elizabeth Gilbert and her ilk to "discover" ourselves but we're very, very busy trying to keep up with everyday life. It simply angers me beyond words when I hear about women who are "searching" and "contemplating," and think they are doing us some kind of cosmic favor by encouraging us to join their search for truth.
These models of personal growth seem to have crossed a line somewhere that creates - for me at least - a great divide. I'm not sure exactly what belongs on either side of that divide but the women occupying each space are substantively different. I'm going to guess that on one side, women use a phrase like "teachable moment" when they discuss experiences about raising their children. Women on the other side have never uttered those two words in the same sentence, much less as a standard phrase. Women on the enlightened side arrange play dates and memorize the school nurse's phone extension on the first day of school. The rest of us are trying hard to keep up with everything every weekend and have a school contact list posted on or near every phone in our home.
I'm not saying there's anything particularly wrong with any of those "enlightened side" attributes but when they're all wrapped up in an "I'm more evolved than you are, you poor thing" aura, it's nauseating.
I appreciate hearing from women who helped me feel like I'm not completely crazy. I'm not some kind of misanthrope who hates everyone. But I have little tolerance for privileged women who make the rest of us feel like losers. In the spirit of Nancy Reagan, we need to "just say no" to these modern day gurus of garbage. I may not be all that enlightened, but I'm hanging in there. It's gratifying to hear I'm not alone.
Thanks for visiting -
R
PS
Opening email in the days following a column is always a challenge. Some people spend a lot of time and energy telling me exactly what a jerk I am, and what a waste of space my weekly column is. What I can't understnd in cases like that is why the bother to read me if I'm such an idiot. I don't waste time reading articles or columns by people who have little of interest to say to me. Why do they??
Thursday, July 26, 2007
my very favorite harry potter story
A few days after my boys finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, I turned the final page. All three of them started the book around 12:30 am on Saturday (the day it went on sale) and the last one to finish it closed it about 12 hours later. Which put me about three days behind them.
I finished it last night (Wednesday) at about 11:30 pm. Each of the boys was hovering around in the kitchen as I closed in on the end and I shooed them away - telling them they couldn't talk to me, they couldn't interrupt until I was finished reading it.
When I closed the book, I headed upstairs and found two of them in a room and called their brother in to talk about the book. And ask all the questions about the dozens of things that confused me as I read the story.
So here it is: my very favorite Harry Potter moment. After years of reading aloud, years of watching them strike out on their own and race through the books by themselves, years of anticipating this final chapter to the story: this was my very favorite moment of the whole thing. The night I finished the book, we sat in Cameron's room and talked about it for an hour or more. Everything we loved, everything that scared us. Everything that we wondered about, and our favorite moments.
I cherished every second of it. They sort of looked like they were little boys again, excited to talk about a child's story about a wizard. They were older though, and their remarks were not those of children. They were smart, thoughtful, inquisitive, enthusiastic and amazing. I can't even really explain how I felt about the experience.
Lucky, I think. Lucky to know them, to feel like they're friends of mine. I won't forget it.
I finished it last night (Wednesday) at about 11:30 pm. Each of the boys was hovering around in the kitchen as I closed in on the end and I shooed them away - telling them they couldn't talk to me, they couldn't interrupt until I was finished reading it.
When I closed the book, I headed upstairs and found two of them in a room and called their brother in to talk about the book. And ask all the questions about the dozens of things that confused me as I read the story.
So here it is: my very favorite Harry Potter moment. After years of reading aloud, years of watching them strike out on their own and race through the books by themselves, years of anticipating this final chapter to the story: this was my very favorite moment of the whole thing. The night I finished the book, we sat in Cameron's room and talked about it for an hour or more. Everything we loved, everything that scared us. Everything that we wondered about, and our favorite moments.
I cherished every second of it. They sort of looked like they were little boys again, excited to talk about a child's story about a wizard. They were older though, and their remarks were not those of children. They were smart, thoughtful, inquisitive, enthusiastic and amazing. I can't even really explain how I felt about the experience.
Lucky, I think. Lucky to know them, to feel like they're friends of mine. I won't forget it.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
they amaze me
Okay, so tonight we're sitting around the dinner table, anticipating the Harry Potter book coming out on Saturday (at midnight on Friday, actually), and my boys start to list the first chapters of every book. From memory. Many years after reading them.
Then they start to list their favorite chapters ever...and each one of them not only remembers what happened in that particular chapter, they remember the book it appeared in as well.
I was floored. I can't remember where I left my car keys and they remember the title to the first chapter of the fourth Harry Potter book.
Astonishing.
So then answer me this: why can't they remember to start the dishwasher?
Why can't they remember to feed the dog?
Why can't they remember to pick up the mail from the mailbox?
I know why. None of these tasks - or any of the other four dozen I could name in one minute's time capture their imagination and their interest as powerfully as do the stories they found on the pages of each Harry Potter book. I'd love to believe they would accomplish these small duties simply for the sake of doing them; for the sake of pitching in; for the sake of scraps of sanity I'm trying desperately to hold onto.
Then I remember: oh, yeah. They're teenagers. And they're pretty normal. One day, they'll wonder why their own kids can't seem to remember to cap the toothpaste or put the milk away. I hope they won't be too hard on them. I hope they remember the night they sat around naming Harry Potter chapters, and recall the kinds of things that captured their minds and attention as teenagers. It certainly wasn't mowing the lawn.
Then they start to list their favorite chapters ever...and each one of them not only remembers what happened in that particular chapter, they remember the book it appeared in as well.
I was floored. I can't remember where I left my car keys and they remember the title to the first chapter of the fourth Harry Potter book.
Astonishing.
So then answer me this: why can't they remember to start the dishwasher?
Why can't they remember to feed the dog?
Why can't they remember to pick up the mail from the mailbox?
I know why. None of these tasks - or any of the other four dozen I could name in one minute's time capture their imagination and their interest as powerfully as do the stories they found on the pages of each Harry Potter book. I'd love to believe they would accomplish these small duties simply for the sake of doing them; for the sake of pitching in; for the sake of scraps of sanity I'm trying desperately to hold onto.
Then I remember: oh, yeah. They're teenagers. And they're pretty normal. One day, they'll wonder why their own kids can't seem to remember to cap the toothpaste or put the milk away. I hope they won't be too hard on them. I hope they remember the night they sat around naming Harry Potter chapters, and recall the kinds of things that captured their minds and attention as teenagers. It certainly wasn't mowing the lawn.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Let's all buy one rose in her honor
God bless Kathleen E. Woodiwiss.
This prolific author had three decades of bestsellers to her credit before passing away in early July in Minnesota. Her final work will be published this fall. The numbers vary, but total sales of her body of work total upwards of 25 or 30 million copies.
Never heard of her? Check your chromosomes and get back to me. Woodiwiss basically invented the genre of the historical romance novel, and women haven't been the same ever since. I haven't read her books in many years, but I do remember them fondly and with no little sense of romance. Sure, maybe the heroine was originally kidnapped and possibly even raped by the man who ultimately becomes her lover and partner. Maybe it was unlikely the captain of the pirate ship would tuck away a wench for his personal pleasure on a ship packed with less than savory male companions.
Ummm...you're thinking about this w-a-y too much. The novels were pieces of candy women could devour, guilt free. They were a respite from the reality of daily life, where the most romantic thing a woman might encounter is an exchange between Kermit and Miss Piggy as her toddlers watched Sesame Street. They were a vacation you took in your own living room.
Romance novels are the unseen workhorses of publishing. There may be showier steeds out in front of the parade, but these hardworking books keep the business chugging along. They don't need promotion; or endless praise, or cover blurbs or author chats with Diane Sawyer to boost their sales. They just work, day in and day out to make bottom lines look better at publishers the world over and make daily lives that much more fun for women the world over.
Thanks, Kathleen. You made a lot of us very happy to know you.
This prolific author had three decades of bestsellers to her credit before passing away in early July in Minnesota. Her final work will be published this fall. The numbers vary, but total sales of her body of work total upwards of 25 or 30 million copies.
Never heard of her? Check your chromosomes and get back to me. Woodiwiss basically invented the genre of the historical romance novel, and women haven't been the same ever since. I haven't read her books in many years, but I do remember them fondly and with no little sense of romance. Sure, maybe the heroine was originally kidnapped and possibly even raped by the man who ultimately becomes her lover and partner. Maybe it was unlikely the captain of the pirate ship would tuck away a wench for his personal pleasure on a ship packed with less than savory male companions.
Ummm...you're thinking about this w-a-y too much. The novels were pieces of candy women could devour, guilt free. They were a respite from the reality of daily life, where the most romantic thing a woman might encounter is an exchange between Kermit and Miss Piggy as her toddlers watched Sesame Street. They were a vacation you took in your own living room.
Romance novels are the unseen workhorses of publishing. There may be showier steeds out in front of the parade, but these hardworking books keep the business chugging along. They don't need promotion; or endless praise, or cover blurbs or author chats with Diane Sawyer to boost their sales. They just work, day in and day out to make bottom lines look better at publishers the world over and make daily lives that much more fun for women the world over.
Thanks, Kathleen. You made a lot of us very happy to know you.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Abstract from the journal Science: italics my own -
Human-dominated marine ecosystems are experiencing accelerating loss of populations and species, with largely unknown consequences. We analyzed local experiments, long-term regional time series, and global fisheries data to test how biodiversity loss affects marine ecosystem services across temporal and spatial scales. Overall, rates of resource collapse increased and recovery potential, stability, and water quality decreased exponentially with declining diversity. Restoration of biodiversity, in contrast, increased productivity fourfold and decreased variability by 21%, on average. We conclude that marine biodiversity loss is increasingly impairing the ocean's capacity to provide food, maintain water quality, and recover from perturbations. Yet available data suggest that at this point, these trends are still reversible.
Got that? "...entirely depleted by 2048..." I must have missed that critical point that was somehow left out of the abstract, which, last I heard, summarizes the salient points of a study or a paper.
This is the problem I have with most major "news" stories that reach our collective consciousness. We accept everything we read, hear or google, or nearly everything we read, hear, or google, as the absolute truth, when in fact, it is neither. It took me about six minutes to find the article that was being used to engender fear on the MSN homepage and compare what the two documents stated.
The larger problem is that someone will begin spouting off about not be able to have shrimp scampi in 2008 and everyone around them will nod in horror as they denigrate and deride all the eco-rats who are destroying our planet (i.e. everyone who cares enough to voice a syllable of doubt about the "news" we're fed.)
Do I want the oceans to be healthier? Yes. Do I want to encourage bio-diversity so all aquatic life will flouish in this century and the next several dozen centuries? Yes. Does that mean to do that, I have to embrace a climate (you'll pardon the word) of fear and destruction in order to effect some change? No.
Human-dominated marine ecosystems are experiencing accelerating loss of populations and species, with largely unknown consequences. We analyzed local experiments, long-term regional time series, and global fisheries data to test how biodiversity loss affects marine ecosystem services across temporal and spatial scales. Overall, rates of resource collapse increased and recovery potential, stability, and water quality decreased exponentially with declining diversity. Restoration of biodiversity, in contrast, increased productivity fourfold and decreased variability by 21%, on average. We conclude that marine biodiversity loss is increasingly impairing the ocean's capacity to provide food, maintain water quality, and recover from perturbations. Yet available data suggest that at this point, these trends are still reversible.
Got that? Everybody clear on the message found in the journal Science? Let's move on.
If you read the home page of MSN, and take note of the list of earth-friendly things you can do to make your "carbon footprint" smaller, you'll read that:
"The world's seafood will be entirely depleted by 2048, according to an early November report in the journal Science."Got that? "...entirely depleted by 2048..." I must have missed that critical point that was somehow left out of the abstract, which, last I heard, summarizes the salient points of a study or a paper.
This is the problem I have with most major "news" stories that reach our collective consciousness. We accept everything we read, hear or google, or nearly everything we read, hear, or google, as the absolute truth, when in fact, it is neither. It took me about six minutes to find the article that was being used to engender fear on the MSN homepage and compare what the two documents stated.
The larger problem is that someone will begin spouting off about not be able to have shrimp scampi in 2008 and everyone around them will nod in horror as they denigrate and deride all the eco-rats who are destroying our planet (i.e. everyone who cares enough to voice a syllable of doubt about the "news" we're fed.)
Do I want the oceans to be healthier? Yes. Do I want to encourage bio-diversity so all aquatic life will flouish in this century and the next several dozen centuries? Yes. Does that mean to do that, I have to embrace a climate (you'll pardon the word) of fear and destruction in order to effect some change? No.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Wow, that was quite a message.
The news on the Gore front isn't so great today. At least from the West Coast. The arrest of Al Gore III, for speeding, possession of prescription narcotics sans the prescriptions and the scent of pot lingering in his car during an early morning driving citation doesn't do much to start the Live Earth weekend off with a big hug to daddy.
Quite the opposite if you think about it. I don't care what anyone says, the timing of this matters. Here stands Al Gore, former almost leader of the free world about to launch his weekend of worldwide attention on climate change (aka global warming) and mingle with some of the coolest people on the planet (rock stars of several generations, playing at his request around the world) and what happens? His son drives his hybrid vehicle about 100 MPH on a California highwway and gets pulled over, then runs into all kinds of extra trouble about what he's carrying in his car (and perhaps his system.) To the tune of an arrest and $20,000 bail.
Jeez, if that isn't a "Daddy notice me" cry, I don't know what is.
My favorite part of the story is the "help" Al III is going to get for his problems. It's funny to me. The regular schlubs who get pulled over for speeding and possible narcotics possession just go to court and possibly to jail. If they manage to avoid serving time, they have to figure out how they'll get the money to pay a fine, get themselves to their jobs and conduct their lives while living with suspended licenses.
The famous ones pay the fine, and "get help" for their problems. I appreciate the idea of family supporting family during troubling times but I'm not convinced that this is the first sign of trouble with young Al. In fact, it isn't. He has run afoul of the law in the past as well.
The timing on this one, however, says it all.
Quite the opposite if you think about it. I don't care what anyone says, the timing of this matters. Here stands Al Gore, former almost leader of the free world about to launch his weekend of worldwide attention on climate change (aka global warming) and mingle with some of the coolest people on the planet (rock stars of several generations, playing at his request around the world) and what happens? His son drives his hybrid vehicle about 100 MPH on a California highwway and gets pulled over, then runs into all kinds of extra trouble about what he's carrying in his car (and perhaps his system.) To the tune of an arrest and $20,000 bail.
Jeez, if that isn't a "Daddy notice me" cry, I don't know what is.
My favorite part of the story is the "help" Al III is going to get for his problems. It's funny to me. The regular schlubs who get pulled over for speeding and possible narcotics possession just go to court and possibly to jail. If they manage to avoid serving time, they have to figure out how they'll get the money to pay a fine, get themselves to their jobs and conduct their lives while living with suspended licenses.
The famous ones pay the fine, and "get help" for their problems. I appreciate the idea of family supporting family during troubling times but I'm not convinced that this is the first sign of trouble with young Al. In fact, it isn't. He has run afoul of the law in the past as well.
The timing on this one, however, says it all.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
it almost worked for me
Because my children know me very well, they know they can not go wrong by giving me anything with a connection to Hugh Grant. They're right about that. There's almost never anything not to like about Hugh Grant if you ask me.
Which is why, when they gave me his movie, Words and Music, for Mother's Day, I appreciated their thoughtfulness. With my usual glacial speed, I finally watched the movie the other night and it almost worked for me. Almost.
Hugh was, of course, brilliant and adorable, and even Drew Barrymore seemed to work as his soulmate-to-be. The story unwound just a little too quickly for me - there weren't nearly enough near misses or "what if's" for a typical romantic comedy but that was okay. There were plenty of amusing lines and repartee to keep me interested.
Here's where it fell apart for me. When they were finally going to have their moment - the memorable first kiss that usually indicates the high point of the movie as it draws to a close (see Pride and Prejudice for the best one of all time - I don't care what version you watch but the latest one works pretty well to illustrate that point) - or the point at which the story takes a turn into confusion and miscommunication, which is always resolved in hour two.
In this case, it was the latter. There was plenty of movie yet to come so I knew there was conflict ahead. But the fact is, I couldn't really get past the kiss itself. How can I put this? It just wasn't sweet enough. It was a little too fierce. I don't mind fierce but this wasn't the place for it. We're not talking about the elevator scene in Fatal Attraction for god's sake. We're talking about two adorable people who have discovered they just may be falling in love.
I wish I had been on the set. I'm convinced this is the reason the movie didn't do better at the box office. All the other elements were there. But if you get the kiss wrong - you're doomed.
Next time, I hope Hugh's people call me. I'd be delighted to help.
Which is why, when they gave me his movie, Words and Music, for Mother's Day, I appreciated their thoughtfulness. With my usual glacial speed, I finally watched the movie the other night and it almost worked for me. Almost.
Hugh was, of course, brilliant and adorable, and even Drew Barrymore seemed to work as his soulmate-to-be. The story unwound just a little too quickly for me - there weren't nearly enough near misses or "what if's" for a typical romantic comedy but that was okay. There were plenty of amusing lines and repartee to keep me interested.
Here's where it fell apart for me. When they were finally going to have their moment - the memorable first kiss that usually indicates the high point of the movie as it draws to a close (see Pride and Prejudice for the best one of all time - I don't care what version you watch but the latest one works pretty well to illustrate that point) - or the point at which the story takes a turn into confusion and miscommunication, which is always resolved in hour two.
In this case, it was the latter. There was plenty of movie yet to come so I knew there was conflict ahead. But the fact is, I couldn't really get past the kiss itself. How can I put this? It just wasn't sweet enough. It was a little too fierce. I don't mind fierce but this wasn't the place for it. We're not talking about the elevator scene in Fatal Attraction for god's sake. We're talking about two adorable people who have discovered they just may be falling in love.
I wish I had been on the set. I'm convinced this is the reason the movie didn't do better at the box office. All the other elements were there. But if you get the kiss wrong - you're doomed.
Next time, I hope Hugh's people call me. I'd be delighted to help.
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