814 One more Valentine

A few weeks ago I checked out an antiques and collectibles guide from the public library because I wanted to check the value of some things I'd been collecting over the years. Usually these titles don't circulate, but apparently the policy had changed and a 2005 guide was available.

They are sort of fun to browse as you notice things you remember from grandma's house, or toys you threw away when they no longer interested you and now are collectible. A few years ago I freed up some space by giving my son his Fischer-Price garage and autos, and I think he made someone on e-bay very happy with it, because the wooden ones are quite collectible.

Anyway, this guide included a section on Valentines. I discovered that the scrapbook I'd made of my mother's valentines from her childhood about 30 years ago included sweet little pieces of paper more valuable than any of the pottery I'd purchased and collected over the years. This one is 3 dimensional and was given to her by her teacher.


To my Valentine

This one was given to my uncle Clare (killed in WWII) by his older brother.


Clare's valentine

813 The Real Reason is in the Transcript

Kevin Aylward at Wizbang Blog thinks he has the real reason Lawrence Summers, President of Harvard, was attacked by the left for his remarks about the differences between men and women. Until the transcript was available we were left pondering paraphrases and snippets that didn't make much sense. The transcript reveals, he thinks, Summers asking questions about whether affirmative action and diversity programs are achieving their goals.

I thought my eyeballs would fall out from the parenthetical phrases and trying to work around Summers' academic mush-talk (is there a school to teach people to write this way?), but it is worth taking a look at the full transcript after letting Wizbang parse it for you.

812 If you have a disability

There are a lot of frail people in Florida. When we visited our relatives there last week we saw people in a life and death struggle to get from the parking lot to the cafeteria. Tubes, oxygen, walkers, wheelchairs. Their lives are very different from mine and they can't do many of the things they used to, nor can they contribute economically to society. But I'm not going to knock them down and bar the door of the restaurant (I'll leave that to Florida drivers).

That's what is happening to Terri Schiavo, a young woman who has a severe disability. The contribution she is making to our society is vast, however. Much greater than mine. She is teaching us about compassion, caring, humanity, empathy, and all their antonyms--judicial lust for power, a greedy lawyer writing a book, an unfaithful and possibly abusive husband. Terri may be disabled, but she is definitely not dying, the usual reason for removing hydration and nutrition.

"Despite what Michael Schiavo, some media outlets and various "right-to-die" groups in Florida and around the country report, Terri Schiavo is not dying; she does not have a terminal illness; she is not comatose; she is not, even by Florida state statute, in a persistent vegetative state. She is cognitively and physically disabled — period. Any reasonable person who views the video clips on the Terri Schindler Schiavo Foundation's website would recognize the truth of her condition. Terri's disability requires that she be given fluids and nutrition through a gastronomy tube – at meal times – much the equivalent of giving a baby formula through a bottle, and the removal of which would irrefutably cause her death by starvation and dehydration." The Washington Dispatch

811 My Valentine's present

Artist is Amy Lacombe. Whimsiclaycats.

810 Don't forget your keys

Once a month my husband has lunch at the golf course club house with his watercolor buddies. Andy, his former partner in an architectural firm, has recently joined the group and stopped by here to pick him up. After they left, I took a cold remedy (had a scratchy throat) and went to bed. Several times I heard the phone ring, but decided I'd let the machine get it. I heard their voices downstairs at some point, and just rolled over and went back to sleep. After about two hours I came down and called to him in his office, assuming Andy had gone home.

After lunch the guys had decided to come back here for dessert--I'd made two sugar-free pies this week. When they got here they discovered I'd locked the door, and my husband hadn't taken his keys. He rang the doorbell several times. He looked inside the garage and saw my car. So they went to a neighbors and called (the phone I heard and didn't answer). (If my husband were younger, he would have had his cell phone with him.) Then they drove to Panera's thinking I'd gone out for coffee with a friend. Finally they drove to our daughter's office a few miles north and got her key. Upon checking to see if I was missing or dead, he found me sound asleep, so the two guys each enjoyed a piece of pie, one chocolate, one rhubarb.

Andy was really hankering for rhubarb pie, I guess, because that's a lot of trouble for a piece of pie--even mine (I make the best crust east of the Mississippi). Otherwise, he would have left off his passenger after lunch and driven away.

809 Howard Dean and the NHL

Not even a news junkie like me could find a relationship between Howard Dean starting as chair of the DNC and the ending (officially) of the NHL season that never was.

The players and owners have plenty of money. They were only a few million off in the salary cap figures--I don't know about you, but I wouldn't quibble about 4 or 5 million.

The people I feel sorry for are the businesses in our "arena district." Not only the small bricks and mortar ones, but the little guy who was maybe selling souvenirs on the street corner to the crowds, and of course the waitress and busboy group who hadn't been able to set aside a strike fund. The Blue Jackets have already lost a number of their employees who have been waiting since September for something to happen.

Columbus defeated an attempt to build the arena with tax dollars in 1997, so it was built with private money (fortunately). But the city spent a bundle on improvements for the area, and was benefiting from the district's business. Also, I suspect the fans have a short attention span. The base was just getting solid here.

In December, Business First Editorial commented:

"They gave parts of downtown a vibrancy they'd never seen. They helped serve as a catalyst for urban redevelopment. They offered Central Ohioans prospects for fun (if not pricey) entertainment. They gave us something to talk about, even if we didn't fully appreciate the nuance of a left wing lock.

Millionaires fighting over money is always a loathsome sight. This battle already is plenty ugly. And as it goes on, the future fans of the league will get trampled some more. Silly us, and we thought sports was simply a diversion."

Howard Dean, meanwhile, called for a media blackout of his first talk with Richard Perle, then changed his mind, then called for the resignation of some GOP who opined off the cuff that the Dems were the party of "Barbara Boxer, Lynne Stewart and Howard Dean." Well, at least he didn't ask for millions. Sports and politics. Politics and sports. Poliorts.

808 The Conundrum

Everyday I list 4 or 5 words in my notebook I'd like to use in a sentence. Usually, I find no topic or occasion to do so. These are not difficult words--stellar, daunting, irksome, culminated--just words I wouldn't ordinarily use. But yesterday I noted "conundrum" because I saw it twice in the Wall Street Journal. Then today when Answers.com popped up on my screen, it said "conundrum" was yesterday's word. Obviously, when Greenspan gave his Senate testimony and used that word, a lot of people looked it up.

It's just a fancy way to say riddle or puzzle, and today I think I may have occasion to use it in a blog--and not just as a quote of Mr. Greenspan, or noting its use in another publication. I think the Terri Schiavo case is a conundrum because people seem to be deciding her fate based on liberal or conservative political views--it has almost become a red state/blue state conundrum. What ever happened to the "bleeding heart" liberal? Where is the liberal who is all for the little guy, and willing to spend my taxes to help him? I've wondered about this in the abortion dilemma too. Who could be smaller and more in need of protection from the government than the unborn, or the brain injured? People who will stand in the rain at midnight outside of prisons before an execution of a rapist/murderer, or who will demand that Iraqi prisoners of war in Guantanamo have all the rights of American citizenship when it comes to imprisonment and trial, will turn up their blue noses at a fellow American in need of their assistance. Really, a conundrum.

In some cases, there is no one to care for an invalid, but this isn't the case here. Terri's husband could divorce her, marry the mother of his children, and Terri's parents could either love her as she is or get her help (which her husband has refused). I visit two women in nursing homes who are in Terri's condition. Although it is painful for their families, the women themselves are not unhappy or distressed.

You can add your blog address to a group rallying to save Terri at Hyscience.

807 These colors don't run

Have you seen that bumper sticker or window decal? I was parked next to a sedan at the supermarket yesterday that had the window decal with the bold, bald eagle. All the red had faded. It was a blue and white decal. Finland anyone?

806 New Golf entry

At my other, other blog, In the Beginning, I've added an entry about a golf magazine, The Green Magazine, which hit the news stands (with a thud, I think) last June. Today at Borders I saw a new Meredith Corp. magazine, but it was about $15, so I passed. There is a limit to what I'd invest in a hobby, even one that isn't as expensive as golf! It was about gardens. Meredith has a long history with the other kind of green--plants--being the publisher of Better Homes and Gardens, but starting with Successful Farming in the early 20th century.

805 Enjoying a vacation--cut the stress

I have not been following the Jason Eason/CNN/Bloggers flap. I saw only a few snippets of Floridian news last week (seems to be a very bad state for needy children and parents with problems). That’s what makes a vacation, in my opinion--turning off the news and not reading a newspaper. But I’ll just cut and paste this bit from Hugh Hewitt on how mainstream media journalists can conduct themselves, still be left of center, but maintain integrity:

“Here are the rules: Don't serially slander the military as assassins and torturers, and you can say whatever you want at Davos. Don't pass off obviously forged documents as super-"Scoops!" in the middle of a presidential election, and you can intone all the absurd "anchor" sayings you want. Don't cover for plagiarists, and you can be the off-the-cliff lefty editor for as long as you want. Don't say the memory of Christmas-Eve-in-Cambodia is "seared, seared" in your memory and then say "oops," you were mistaken, and folks won't question your credibility on other war-stories. Don't appear to endorse segregation, and you can be the Leader. These aren't high bars. Cross them.”

Hewitt is a conservative radio host whose little book In, but not of is on our book club list for next month. I went into Amazon.com and read 9 reviews and the introduction. I think it is quite popular as a graduation gift, but I can only find one copy in OhioLink (and it won’t let me place a save) and none at the local or metropolitan public libraries. It looks like a book on setting goals, Christian life, ambition, being the best you can be. One reviewer said he was 58 and still found it useful, so maybe I’ll benefit--and then pass it along to a younger family member (since I can’t get it from a library). Librarians, as I’ve reported before, as a group are politically very liberal, but I hope this doesn’t account for its scarcity on library shelves. I like to think my profession is above partisanship--and clever enough to work the crowd. His new book on Blogs is also quite unavailable locally.

804 Jungle Gardens, Sarasota Florida

A few years ago, one of our nieces got married here on the site of Jungle Gardens, a lush tourist attraction. Although the marriage didn't last, it is still a pretty place to visit and to hold a special event. I was able to get quite close to the Flamingoes for photographs. It started as a private residence and evolved into a place to observe a variety of plants and animals.

In the photo, a bird is enjoying lunch while we waited for "Birds of the Rainforest" show. While we were there taking in the Florida sites and sights, I had more visitors to my blog site than when I am blogging. I should take more vacations.


Lunch with a friend

803 The shopping Jean

Quite by accident, I discovered that my sister-in-law, Jean, has no shopping gene. This is unusual for a woman. While in Florida we were guests in their 8 x 33 RV trailer. We slept on a futon on the attached porch. The bathroom was pretty small--about the size of a postage stamp and I'm a #10 envelop. Tuesday I was brushing my teeth and threw my back out because I didn't open the door to put my rear end in the hallway. You get the picture?

So Jean loaned me one of their 3 back braces; they are sort of a lending library for the RV park, I think. It felt so good that I thought I should buy one. I've been having periodic back trouble since my horse fell on me years ago, and hadn't found much that would help. So she suggested Wal-Mart. I made a list of a few things I thought I needed and off we went in her big Lincoln (about the size of the trailer).

I just love to shop at Wal-Mart, but I knew we were in trouble the minute we stepped through the doors. She looked at the ceiling for the directional signs, pointed and said, "That way." We were off and running, and had all the list accomplished in about 2 minutes, were in the check-out lane and back in the parking lot in a no time.

I said, "Jean has no shopping gene."

Here's a cozy photo of the "kitchen," and we were playing Uno--this particular game lasted about 45 minutes (we didn't have the rules with us). We had such a good time that they bought a game too, and now we know what we were doing wrong.

Playing Uno in the trailer

802 Traveling with books

"Books I travel with. . " dangles a preposition far away from its object, so I changed the topic line. They need to be light weight, easy to pick up and restart, and attention grabbing, so I can read above (below) people chatting in airports, on cell phones, or two guys loudly watching the Super Bowl 3 ft away in my relatives' trailer/camper. This trip had a first--a woman in a bathroom stall talking on her cell phone--made me wonder what the person on the other end was hearing. Then I realized it was the janitress, so probably the callee was accustomed to hearing toilets flush, and other less gentle sounds.

But the book I took along is "Got game; how the gamer generation is reshaping business forever" by John C. Beck and Michell Wade (Harvard Business School Press, 2004). The boomers were big--affected everything about our culture, but the "gamer" demographic is bigger yet, and so is the generation gap, according to Beck and Wade.

Gamers are those who have grown up with and regularly use video grames--and here the authors include arcade games, computer games, hand held games, and digital games played on TV. The delivery platform is not important, but the nature of game playing is (you are the star, everything is possible, things are simple, the young rule, etc.).

I found this book as interesting as a good novel because it revealed another universe going on around me which I'd been completely ignoring. It's the topic I skip when "Wired" does an article on xbox, and the blog I impatiently skim when it includes a love song to the latest purchase of an interactive fantasy game.

These authors look at the gamers from a business management angle, but teachers, pastors, social workers and librarians could also benefit because the world view is very different. The 25 year old Indianapolis gamer may have more in common with a gamer from Korea, than a 30 year old from Buffalo who is not a gamer.

If you are short on time, just read the introductory material--the rest is somewhat anecdotal and repetitive. However, it includes references, data and charts, something I always appreciate (it's a librarian thing). It will prepare you for understanding the gap.

The pony tail

Remember in the mid-1970s the fifty-something waitress who still wore her hair around a "rat" like it was 1945? If you weren't born yet, just so you can picture this, you see something similar today on the beaches in Florida, and probably California.

Male boomers, bald as an egg, with tiny wispy gray pony tails in a petite sausage curl, announce the 'tude of their college days when long hair was a statement of rebellion for boys. Now the curl shouts, "Hell no, I won't go--into retirement, into a senior discount, into the sunset, into the rocking chair." Now it says, "Hey, I'm still so cool."

Saturday evening in Bradenton

Here I am at my brother's blogging for the first time this week. Big blog withdrawal. We're celebrating my sister in law's birthday.

Nice week, but a little coolish. Did St. Armand's Circle, Jungle Gardens, ate breakfast at the Broken Egg, had lunch at the Sandbar, and I've had 2 pieces of key lime pie, my favorite.

We had a nice get together with all my Florida relatives at the Twin Dolphins today. Flying home Monday. Signing off.

On the beach

Certainly not my best painting, however it grabs the ambience of four midwesterners, fully clothed, heads covered, slathered in sun screen, covered with umbrellas. The women are looking at the water; the men are watching the babes.


On the beach

Check back next week for more exciting stories from Florida.

801 National Adoption Month

It isn't in February, it's November. But Marvin Olasky says nothing appeared in the major media about it even though there are 118,000 children in foster care who are eligible for adoption. He decided to cover the topic any way, and you can read it here for Capital Research Center. The co-author is Dan Vazquez who works in India with disadvantaged children and covers street children in Mexico for this article.

800 The cat who hears cheese

If I open the door of the refrigerator and take out a tomato, or margarine or a sack of apples, I am alone. If I take out a package of cheese, the cat appears from nowhere and is sitting quietly behind me when I turn around. She could have been in a sound sleep on the couch in my office not having moved since breakfast at 5:15 a.m. with my comings and goings, entrances and exits.

She has issues--was abandoned or abused in young adulthood and we got her at a cat rescue place. Now I wonder if she had been locked up in a basement somewhere. Last week I brought home a 1954 National Geographic special reprint about the wonders of the telephone age from the freebie box at the public library. Since a baby bell has gobbled up momma, I thought it might be interesting (and it is, since it sort of chronicles that Bell Labs really didn't know the goldmines that awaited in the future). I didn't realize at first that it had a horrible odor. Our suburb had a very bad storm and flood in the early 70s. Our house was one of the few that did not flood (we had no basement), but for weeks the neighborhood reeked of mold and mildew, rotting carpet, and destroyed wall panelling as exhausted home owners brought damaged goods to the curb for pick up. Our neighbor's wine collection had all the labels loosen and float away (he was right on the creek).

Anyway, that's what "New Miracles of the Telephone Age" smells like. And the cat loves it. I put it next to the register thinking it needed to air out, but she sits on it, rolls on it, nibbles on the pages and looks like she is rolling in cat nip.

Must sound like cheese to her.

799 Put some spice in your marriage

Advice is something librarians dispense, but usually I stay away from advising people about relationships. I am well aware that I married the greatest guy in the world, so what's tough about that?

However, after 45 years, conversation does get a bit thin. He tends to say "Yes, yes," before I even get the words out of my mouth about something I read on a blog, because he just saw it on the News. So we've been having game night. So far, we've only tried Boggle, Racko and Uno, because I'm really, really awful at games, and I'm a poor loser. I'm also a poor winner, because I don't like to see anyone lose. Euchre is the national passtime for anyone from Indiana, so if I really want to wow him, I offer him a game of Euchre. Boys from Indianapolis find that very sexy.

Here's how it raises the level of discourse in our home:
"I can't believe I did that."
"Is that a word?"
"Let the answering machine take that."
"Do the rules say we can do that?"
"We've lost the rules."
"When did we buy this game anyway?"
"Box says 1971."
"I'm no good at this."

Since we'd lost the rules to the Uno game, my husband took it to his lunch session with the 4th grader he mentors. He explained it to him--but we think he missed a few of the finer points. It is an urban school in sort of a rough neighborhood and we suspect that whoever shouts loudest gets to set the rules. I tried checking the internet but found 3 sets of rules (to download) and they don't look like our box. Our first attempt ran to about 45 minutes, so we think we've missed something.

Boggle is more fun, but only for me. I'm the wordsmith in the family. My husband had a really awful start in school, but because he was sweet, cute and charming with adorable red curls, I think they didn't notice he was a poor reader. Good kids who don't make waves sometimes don't get the attention they should. He reads fine now--in fact, because he is disciplined and focused, he has read the Bible through 3 times, something I've never done (no discipline). But he only reads if he has too, like building specs or committee reports. It gives him no pleasure. When I first visited in his parents' home when I was in college, I noticed there was no reading material--not a newspaper or magazine or book. About 15 years later that had changed some. When we'd visit with the kids I could browse Field and Stream and the Indianapolis Star, and a few text book's my father-in-law had purchased for his job.

In Boggle you get one point for finding 3 or 4 letter words, two points for five, three for six, etc. The letters are upside down or backwards, but you can spell any direction--up, down, back, forward, sideways. In 3 minutes. If you both find the same word, neither gets a point. I thought my mind might react quicker if I refreshed it with four letter words. No, not that kind, but basic building blocks of most of our sentences. Suddenly, I began seeing four letter words everywhere. Then I stopped to write them down. My morning notebook, instead of having notes for my blogs, now has pages of told, bond, firm, them, week, push, just, over, took and take. Four or five pages of this nonsense. Then I tried putting them into rhymes and sentences. (Proper names are generally not used, however).

WITH THAT HUGE
IRAQ VOTE
POOR FLIP FLOP JOHN
TIPS OVER BOAT.

FOOT BALL BOWL FANS
GULP COLD BEER
WHEN TEAM LOSE
YELL FOUL PLAY

NINE TEEN FIVE FIVE
PROM GALS WAIT
PINK GRAY FORD
ROCK ROLL DATE.

BUSH HELD FAST
TALK SHOW TELL
LAST YEAR WINS
VOTE FROM HELL

THEY WERE CALM
JUST MORE HARD NOSE
CORE WILL STAY
COLD WIND BLOW

GALS SHOP TILL DROP
BACK FOOT SORE
SALE, SALE, SALE
HAIL TAXI PLAN MORE

Just so I can move on with my life, I'm going to start in on five letter words.

798 Hanson on fire

Usually Victor Davis Hanson is fairly controlled, nuanced and cautious in criticism. But he's on fire in this one, "The Global Throng;
Why the world’s elites gnash their teeth." It gave me the opportunity to use my new Answers.com toolbar to look up why he called Ted Kennedy "the old minotaur" (with the correct pronunciation).