873 Have you noticed?

This afternoon I took my book to the coffee shop--and I'm all the way to chapter 8 (slow reader). It does have some good things to say. I do wonder how everyone is going to fit on the campuses of Harvard, Yale and Stanford, however. And where will the rest of us academics work? That's not my point here. While I was in the coffee shop I looked up as some women customers came in. Have you noticed how so many people have very white teeth these days? I mean glistening, sparkling, movie-star white. Whiter than natural white. It must be all those teeth-whiteners you see advertised. I wonder how long it will be before teeth-whiteners will be the next Cox-2 or HRT or phen-phen and people will find out they do something awful in lab rats eating it 15 times a day in addition to removing tea, cigarette and coffee stains from human teeth?

Back to the book and chapter 9.

872 George Will calls public TV a preposterous relic

“In 1967 public television did at least increase, for many, the basic television choices from three -- CBS, NBC, ABC -- to four. Not that achieving some supposedly essential minimum was, or is, the government's business. In today's 500-channel environment, public television is a preposterous relic.”

Full essay here.

Are there any shows on public TV that you think couldn't make it commercially? If yes, is that a good reason to keep them on the air?

871 The Big Boys and Martha

Reading what male columnists and commentators have to say about Martha Stewart is like reading what the liberal MSM have to say about President Bush. They just don't get it. Someone who has a purpose, a direction, believe in self, who confounds the pundits and does exactly what she/he promised to do.

In his Wonderland essay today in the Wall Street Journal, Daniel Henniger writes about the "Gates" exhibit in Central Park. He just can't resist sniping at Martha:

"Cristo and Jeanne-Claude use the tool of free media publicity as skillfully as any politician, or as naughty Martha Stewart is doing right now."

A slam with a put down. Nice work. Relegating her to the status of a kindergartner sitting in the corner.

870 Reading under pressure

Book Club is meeting Monday night, and as usual, it is crunch time and I'm still in the first chapter. The selection is a little odd--we usually read solid non-fiction, biography or genre fiction. This time it is Hugh Hewitt's book, In, But Not Of; a guide to Christian ambition and the desire to influence the world (Thomas Nelson, 2003). First I checked OhioLINK, then OPLIN, and I think there were only one or two copies in the state. Public libraries don't have very good collections of Christian material (considering that their clients are overwhelmingly Christian), but I thought I'd be able to borrow it. So I purchased it, knowing it was "gift book" material and maybe I could pass it along. So far I'm stuck in the preface and not enthusiastic. Of course, "ambition" was never my watchword, even when I was working, so as a retiree the concept doesn't hold a lot of interest. Maybe he has a really fresh take on ambition and influence. Hope so.

I look really sharp today. Mascara. New lipstick shade. Dark blazer. Ambitious. Sometimes it helps to look the part.

869 You can't tell a person by a face

This site purports to be able to determine your ethnicity, intelligence and personality from a submitted photograph. I submitted about 5, and got a different evaluation each time. I never got out of the average intelligence range although it fluctuated. The photo I'm currently using here at the blog (taken at Wal-Mart) had me eastern Indian and southern European, a white collar worker, maybe a secretary. I did best with my studio master's degree photo, which said I was 100% Anglo-Saxon (correct), a charmer, and brighter than I was when I was east Indian. I hope these guys aren't working on terrorist screening.

868 Publishing in the 21st century

For those of you doing more than blogging with your words, or who are selecting titles for public and university libraries, there is an interesting three part series over at Backspace on publishing in the 21st century, how the business is changing and how technology is influencing what authors, agents and publishers do for a living. Part One is an overview of the current state of the business, Part Two is a discussion (new to me) of what's become of paperbacks, and Part Three is, On the road to virtual.

867 When age doesn't matter

While adding a site to my coffee blog today, I decided this one might be worth another look here.

"We got together for coffee recently. We both live close enough to Panera's to walk. We are both retired--I in 2000 and she in 2004. I haven't missed work a single day, but she's having a bit more of a struggle--misses "her kids." I've lived in the community for 37 years, and she grew up here. I've been a member of the church since 1976 and she is a charter member. But when she mentioned her best friend in high school, I said, "but she used to baby sit for us."

When she was 18, I was 28. We were worlds apart. I was changing diapers, shopping for groceries, making the dollars stretch for wallpaper and drapes for the new house, feeling the oldest I've ever felt in my life--wondering where had life gone. She was going to football games, planning for college, looking forward with excitement to all that was to come. And now, that 10 years doesn't make much difference at all."

Today's Laugh

I saw this link at Schadenfreude. If you are old enough to remember Johnny Carson (Tonight Show) and Jack Webb (Dragnet), you’ll love this.

Johnny Carson and Jack Webb

865 Freed Martha

My cooking may be a bit slip-shod and borrowed from my Mom's recipe box of the 1950s, but I'm a big fan of Martha Stewart's products even if I've only read one of her magazines (the first issue). Sheets, bedspreads, towels, rugs, and kitchen utensils are all well designed and made.

Now she's getting out of prison. Some men are still complaining that she hasn't admitted to a crime, even though she's done the time. Could be that in addition to beingsmart, talented, successful and providing a lot of quality for value, she's also innocent. All those guys who were wrong about her stock (jumped 40% from the low last fall) are also wrong about her. See WaPo for a less than flattering story.

From the Alderson, West Virginia prison Martha wrote her staff about foraging for wild greens on the grounds, decorating the chapel for a memorial service, and cooking impromtu recipes in the microwave with whatever the commissary had for sale. She read voraciously with the new found time she had, taught yoga, crocheted gifts, cast and painted ceramics from old molds she found, and played cards and scrabble (as reported in the latest issue of Living). This lady knows how to make lemon-ade from even dried up lemons.

You go girl! And welcome back.

Note: Last March I started my blog about premiere issues with a few paragraphs about Martha:

"The reasons people give for starting a new journal are wonderful, and that will probably end up being my focus, rather than ISSN or editor or publisher or cost. For instance, I have the "Preview Issue" of Martha Stewart Living, Winter 1990, published in the fall of 1989 for the coming holiday season. She quotes Samuel Johnson, the famous 18th century writer: For at the end of the day, no matter who we are or what we do, we want to go home. Our philosophy was nicely stated by Samuel Johnson a couple of hundred years ago: "To be happy at home is the ultimate result of all ambition."

The issue is filled with wonderful recipes, projects, and decorating ideas. I don't think she ever changed her plan (I also don't think she is guilty, but that's another blog. The pages are drying out a bit, so I have to be careful when I open to the stencils of stars and moon to be carefully removed to spray paint a table cloth. I smile when I see the photo of the golden threads of spun sugar on cups made of brandy snaps holding black currant icecream topped with caramel syrup. Ah, Martha, nobody does it like you!

864 How did you meet your spouse?

SmockMomma of Suma Mamas writes: “we met in january of ’90 in a class entitled “ethics and moral issues” at Texas Tech. i thought he was the spawn of jimmy swaggart because he quoted lots and lots of scripture, and right from the hip, too. he thought i was a wiccan hippy – but aside from my habit of wearing lots of black and espousing very militant pro-choice, pro-gay/lesbian/transgender, rabid feminist, anti-established religion views, i can’t imagine why he thought that. i mean, he was the dingleberry who voted for a democrat, not me. he thought all i needed was a little salvation and i thought he prolly just needed to get a little. there must be something to that “opposites attract” theory cuz fifteen years later here we are, albeit a tad more complacent 'n civilized.”

Bloggers are interviewing each other, and this was one of the questions she was asked--a mother of four with two on the way. The ones I’ve read are tailored to the writer and are not the general “what is your favorite beverage” type question. I thought this one could be a general conversation starter--it works better than “how old are your kids,” even if the person is divorced or widowed. And if she is single and never married, you’ll hear an even better story.

I’m not as funny as SmockMomma, but I can tell you we met at an ROTC function and that on our first date, The St. Pat’s Ball at the University of Illinois, my husband told me he was going to marry me. When I returned to the dorm that night and went to Sally Siddens’ room to return dress, I told her, “You won’t believe the line I heard tonight. And he can dance.”

863 A hitch in my git-along

Remember that old expression? I don't think I've ever actually said that one, but I know it means something hurts and isn't working right, or it means something's been thwarted depending on the area you're from. Yesterday I added two really great writers to my list of writing links, and one or both caused a hitch in my get-along. Right away, my page started having trouble. First, their pages loaded really slowly. Then mine started to balk. I'd had this happen last summer when one of them was on my list. I'd added Sal and PJ that time, and it kicked up a fuss. The template change never would work right after I made that change. So I deleted both. I snuck PJ back in (great recipes) and had no problems. So recently, I added Sal and Inkmusings. Now both are relegated to my bookmarks. I'll still return to their sites--just won't be directing you there. You geeky types will probably tell me this is just a coincidence, but rather than have people fall asleep waiting for it to load (actually, no one waits on the internet--not even me), I'd rather let them fall asleep reading my prose.

862 Dress like a voting booth

Mark Steyn comments on all the changes going on in the Middle East, Full story here, “Arabs Berlin Wall has Crumbled;” my, but I do love how he turns a phrase.

“Why is all this happening? Answer: January 30. Don't take my word for it, listen to Walid Jumblatt, big-time Lebanese Druze leader and a man of impeccable anti-American credentials: "I was cynical about Iraq. But when I saw the Iraqi people voting three weeks ago, eight million of them, it was the start of a new Arab world. The Berlin Wall has fallen."

Just so. Left to their own devices, the House of Saud - which demanded all US female air-traffic controllers be stood down for Crown Prince Abdullah's flight to the Bush ranch in Crawford - would stick to their traditional line that Wahhabi women have no place in a voting booth; instead, they have to dress like a voting booth - a big black impenetrable curtain with a little slot to drop your ballot through. Likewise, Hosni Mubarak has no desire to take part in campaign debates with Hosno Name-Recognition. Boy Assad has no desire to hand over his co-Baathists to the Great Satan's puppets in Baghdad.”

861 On fathers and dads

Tomorrow morning my husband will fly to California to see his father who had a heart attack on Saturday. He is refusing all "heroic" measures, including his regular medication, so it is possible that father and son won't meet again this side of heaven. A divorce when my husband was two years old means they didn't live together, but you don't have to be in the same room with them too long to see that they are related.

We sent our children out to see him for a week when they were about 14 and 15, and our son, who is an incredible mimic, can still do a comedy routine of Grandpa nipping into the candy bowl and frying bacon. In August 2003 we went out for his 90th birthday party, a huge bash in my brother-in-law's decorated backyard. He is a popular guy with many friends half his age. During WWII he had what must have been the dream assignment of the war--arranging entertainment for the troops. That 2003 visit was only the second time his four children had all been together with him at the same time, the other time being in Indiana sometime in the 1950s. I know it sounds sort of distant and cool, but it is amazing to me who grew up in an intact family with grandparents and great-grandparents in the same town, how close they all are and how they share mannerisms, speech patterns and body language. My father-in-law had eight brothers and sisters who took family very seriously and included his two little ones in everything. This is a blended family (I could write volumes) which sets the bar for that term.

In 1977 we flew to California with the children for an extended visit. A large athletic man, bigger than either son, my husband's father had lost about 50 pounds that year, as had my own father, and my husband's step-dad. I joked that I had lost one entire dad just from dieting.

In 1995 we were both at work when we got the call about my husband's step-father. We threw things in the suitcase and quickly drove to Indianapolis, but we were too late to say good-bye. He was already on a respirator. Both fathers were at our wedding, but this was the father who paid the mortgage, put food on the table, disciplined for misbehavior and smartmouthing, mowed the lawn, went to ballgames, attended our kids' parties, and told the funny stories on holidays. My husband delivered the eulogy at his funeral, finishing with "I love you, dad." The only time he ever called him "dad."

We've been blessed to have our fathers (mine died in 2002) such a long time.

860 Music on the Internet

A few of my favorite links are to radio on the internet. I don't pretend to understand this, or know who puts it out or how, but I get really good music, some from other countries, with no commercials.

Music weblogs are even more a mystery to me. People write about the music they enjoy and then post a link. I'm not sure if what I'm doing--listening--is legal--I guess it is. But if you drop down to the bottom of my left hand links to a music weblog icon, Impudent Marriage.com and click, then go to Feb. 14, you hear something I think is really good:

Julie writes in her music blog: “This song is a perfect blend of hip hop and blues. The lyrics are haunting and convey a sense of newfound independence. The tune is catchy and fun, but at the same time low key and reminiscent of a dirge.” The Truth from "Handsome Boy Modeling School"

Apparently, there is web karaoke, too. A kid named Gary was catapulted to fame and is now in hiding because he danced the Numa Numa and put it on the internet. I watched it, laughed, and thought, "This kid has a lot of talent." I can't lipsync in Romanian, can you?

859 I'm not dead yet

"If you ever watched the TV mini-series "The Holocaust" with James Woods as an artist. In that movie they depicted the destruction of people not just in concentration camps, but prior to that. Before they started to destroy Jews and Gypsies and political dissidents, they first started destroying retarded children, people with brain defects. And they put them into vans and piped in carbon monoxide and killed them all. They looked on it as good because these people were difficult, they were expensive, they were awkward. They didn't have the quality of life required of the Third Reich. They were expendable. And from that came the Holocaust." Gregory Koukl

858 Whiny women

Articles like this one reporting women in the sciences at Harvard are still looking for excuses really make me steam.

"Students cited their experiences in introductory courses as particularly traumatic—saying that some male teaching fellows would drive their classes at relentless rate and would deflect questions from female students.

To counter this, Tracy E. Nowski '07 and Patricia Li '07, co-chairs of the policy committe of WISHR, suggested optional sections created specifically for women, perhaps being even taught by female teaching fellows."

So, after 35 years of workshops, tutoring, special classes, Title 9, and bumping men from application lists at prestigious schools, women still can't take the heat and now want their own classes at the college level?

My epiphany came about 10 years ago when I walked into the women's restroom in Sisson Hall (Ohio State) and saw a list posted on a toilet stall door of 50 organizations on campus to help me be a poor lil' oppressed woman. "Are we that weak?" I wondered as I kicked aside a huge cockroach. "We can't survive without all this stuff to prop us up?" There would be a lot of women in administration who would have to go out and get real jobs if they ever convinced other women they really can do what they want if they are willing to compete. If they don't want to compete, that's not the men's problem. Don't make it into Harvard, spend $40,000 a year of dad's money and then start trembling in your Nikes because men are acting like nut-cakes.

857 Truth is stranger than sarcasm

"In another move designed to show his love and compassion for his wife, Michael Schiavo today announced he would auction off his guardianship of Terri Schiavo on eBay."

Full story at ScappleFace

856 Listening to the Oscar chatter

Two miles north of here, I can get WJR Detroit, so I was listening to a talk show driving home from grocery shopping this morning. No one who called in was happy with Chris Rock's performance. It was not a left/right, black/white thing. People long for the "good old days" when comedians could perform for a national audience and not be political or slanderous. I suspect that time never existed, but it would be nice.

One of my readers says she used to enjoy the Oscars--particularly seeing the clothes. She went to bed last night at 9. No fun these days--she hasn't seen any of the movies, and often doesn't know the stars. And she sees a lot more movies than I do. Me? I don't think I ever watched an Oscar show.

Robin Williams' allusion to the Focus on the Family Sponge Bob Square Off was only slightly amusing, a caller to WJR said (although better than Rock). It's not clear to me if Williams was on the show, or if the caller was just comparing the two comedians. The MSM and all of Hollywood left get that Dobson story wrong. James Dobson never said the cartoon character was gay. He objected to a link on the video which used a number of favorite cartoon characters, produced by "We are Family Foundation" for children promoting explicitly homosexual material. I think the left coast all know that, but what would be funny or slur-worthy about that? What fun is it to make fun of a Christian leader when he is speaking the truth and common sense?

"If you had told me a month ago that I’d be devoting my February letter to a cartoon character named SpongeBob SquarePants, I’d have said you were crazy. Nevertheless, by now you probably know that I have been linked to that famous talking sponge by hundreds of media outlets, from the New York Times to "MSNBC" to "Saturday Night Live." The story of how this situation unfolded is somewhat complicated, but it must be told." Dr. Dobson.

You should see what librarians did to Dr. Laura! But then, that's another show.

855 Slivers and hyphens

At my other other blog, Church of the Acronym, I'll write more about the wonderful artwork of Dr. Tennyson Williams (can't find my notes at the moment). The Visual Arts Ministry hung his show on Saturday morning. Sometimes the equipment isn't the best and my husband picked up a sliver in his hand from the step ladder. A metal sliver. So I found a needle and a tweezers for him (he was on his own then--I'm squeamish).

I've written before about hyphens, and I think they are useful used with discretion, but when over done they pierce like a sliver. Hyphens are irritating to the flow of language when poking around where they aren't needed. A one column article on technology by Lee Gomes in today's WSJ had at least 14 hyphenated adjectives--my eyes were glazing over.

innovator-entrepreneurs; open-source; free-flowing; eye-glazing (yup!); start-up; hedge-fund; heat-seeking; computer-programming; space-time; already-crowded; high-tech; file-sharing; write-up; earth-shaking.

I'm thinking Mr. Gomes didn't slap all those hyphens in there on the qwerty keyboard--he'll get carpal tunnel of the little finger--but would they have that many editorial assistants with nothing to do? Is it a hyphen-gap-finding-inserting program?

These ladies are looking for you

The Summa Mamas, Catholic mothers, are blogging for Terri and looking for comments.

"We are within 22 comments of our 3000th comment. Poster who is number 3000 will get a big ol' smooch from the Mamas! (And who knew it would be such a great conversation? We appreciate each and every one of you so much.)"

I've got just the guy for them.