1006 Lucrative and annoying

I really dislike pop-up ads. They jump in front of what I want to read; they wiggle; they flash; they blink and annoy. Although I have a pop-up blocker on my computer, even it can’t keep up with the clever devices the advertisers invent. More and more I see pop-ups on TV, although I’m sure they have a different moniker there. Here’s more bad news--they are very lucrative and successful, which means there will only be more.

Scott Kirsner writes about my nemesis today: “Now, thanks to Google's clever method of placing pithy and relevant text ads next to your search results, and an array of flashy new ad formats, advertisers are making the Net a serious part of their marketing strategies. Online ad sales totaled $9.6 billion last year, according to the Internet Advertising Bureau, and are expected to hit $12.7 billion in 2004, based on estimates by the research firm eMarketer. Morgan Stanley analyst Mary Meeker, who gave a talk at AdTech, observed that online advertising still represents only 3 percent of total US ad spending, calling the Internet ''the most underutilized advertising medium that's out there." “ Boston.com

It certainly doesn’t look “underutilized” if you’re trying read something on the internet.

Glad we missed this fad

This marketing scheme has always amazed me for its ingenuity--and I'm so happy we missed it. My daughter had a few used Barbies found at garage sales, but never really got involved in anything that soaked up money. The Night Writer tells about visiting New York and encountering the line at an American Girl Place, where for $22 you can have lunch with a doll.

"A year ago I had no idea of the marketing volcano that was about to erupt under our feet. Then some black-hearted scoundrel slipped Daughter Two an American Girl catalog – the first one’s free, kid – and her life changed. American Girl dolls are a vertically integrated economic powerhouse. The dolls themselves go for nearly $100 a pop, but that’s just the threshold – the dolls represent different eras and ethnicities in American history and most are the stars of one or more books put out by the company and has full line of accessories, not to mention the magazine (catalog) that appears regularly at our house. My daughter and her friends now can recite model numbers, back stories and accessory details with each other the way my friends and I once were able to argue the finer points of a ’63 Impala or ’67 GTO."

From the looks of the archive, this blog started in February.

1004 I found it!

Not God--that happened 30 years ago. I found the Oster Belgium Wafflemaker models 3860 & 3863 Instructions. (See blog 1002) We had waffles, sausage and fresh fruit for supper, and I can barely waddle up to the keyboard.

We hung an art show at the public library today, and on the way home I started thinking about the missing instructions. It occurred to me that I must have instructions and warranties from the 1980s and 1990s someplace, and then I remembered the plastic zip lock bag in the living room secretary. When I got home I checked, and there it was, on top, placed there carefully in 2002 so I wouldn't forget where it was.

The cat was so excited at the prospect of waffles, I gave her a few tiny bites of the practice waffle. She was ecstatic. She has never paid any attention to crackers, cookies or bread, but something about waffles takes her back to her homeless days when she had to scrounge for a meal.

By popular demand

Vox Lauri says she can't believe I indexed my blogs. When I went back and checked (gave up after 3 or 4 months), it wasn't a very good index. But I did find my confession about Why Today I am Not a Democrat and the response a few entries later from Karen, another Democrat/Librarian who responded (I told her I'd reprint it from e-mail; I had no commenting feature at that time). In the process, I learned that I can't go back and edit (or delete) my old blogs--seems I can only drop back 300 entries in the editing function. And at the rate I write, that is nothing. The little edit access I have on the newer blogs doesn't seem to be there on the older ones. Anyway, it was November 2003, we were having local elections, the national scene was just heating up and Zell Miller was speaking out. So I was responding to that.

1002 The Waffle Maker a.k.a. Waffle Iron

Where to start? I came home from Illinois with an extra Waffle Maker, a Toastmaster, which I'll eventually take to our lake house for leisurely summer brunches on the deck, with sides of fresh fruit and sausage. My husband loves waffles, and will order them at Abigail's (Lakeside, OH restaurant) if I don't fix them at home.

The reason I have an extra waffle maker is because its previous owner managed to cement the first waffle to the plates and finally had to pry it open with a screw driver. After numerous soakings, the waffle was dislodged by me, and I got the crevices clean and fixed waffles. But by this time, the original owner had already notified Toastmaster of the problem (instructions said to wait for green light, but this model had no green light), and the company sent him a new one.

Today I thought I'd surprise my husband, and I got out our Oster Belgium Waffle Maker. I purchased it in 2001 at an after-Christmas sale as a nice gift for me from me. For about two weeks we ate wonderful, fluffy waffles, and then I put it away. Then I think the last time I used it was for a luncheon with our son and his step-daughter on the deck of our condo in 2002. Well, that's another story too that makes me weep--she, our only chance at being grandparents, now lives in California, and probably doesn't remember eating waffles with us, or even us for that matter.

Meanwhile, I have hunted through all my recipe caches, shelves, books and folders, and little wooden and metal recipe boxes, but I can't find the manufacturer's recipe book and instructions. "Just use another recipe," my husband suggested, but it isn't that easy. It is the booklet that tells you the appliance's whims and secrets so you don't cement the plates together. Does it want the batter dumped in the middle, or evenly distributed into the 4 squares; do the plates remove for cleaning; what sort of signal will it give when ready to accept or disgorge its contents; and most importantly, it has the notes I wrote along side the printed recipes.

In my hunt for the illusive instruction booklet, I opened my "Household Slips 'n Clips" and found the warranties for my children's yellow 20" Schwinn bikes they had in the early 1970s; a user's manual for a GE portable record player purchased in Nov. 1973 (must have been for the children's birthdays); assembly instructions and safety manual for a gym set for the back yard; the payment ($6.82/mo) booklet for my Singer sewing machine purchased in August 1960; instructions for my portable electric typewriter which got me through graduate school; information on storing an electric blanket possibly from the 1970s; warranties for a trash can purchased in 1978 and a bathroom vent-light for a remodeling in 1974; washing instructions for bedroom curtains purchased in 1964; a plan for a linen closet we installed in our first house in 1962 in Champaign, IL; and operating instructions for a Telectro 2 speed tape recorder model 1970 from the late 1950s.

We no longer have those products, but now I have two waffle makers and no instruction book for either one.

1001 Gasoline prices

Earlier in the month when we took a trip to northern Illinois, starting from Lake Erie, gasoline prices were about $2.43. We filled up around Gary at $2.23 and were thrilled to get it. Starting for home eight days later, we bought gas for $2.16 in Oregon, IL, $2.06 in Indianapolis suburbs, and then saw it was $1.98 when we got back to Columbus. The next day when we filled up, gasoline was $1.91. I don't recall any major news stories on this; no one was being interviewed filling the tacks of SUVs. Now gasoline prices are back up again--I think about $2.24 around here. The other night on national news, I think multiple minutes were spent decrying gasoline prices and consumer frustration, and the wagging fingers pointed, of course, to President Bush. The President that day had been hustled to a secure place as security was compromised in Washington. That story got about 2 seconds.

Now that I've passed the 1000 entries mark, I've debated on whether to continue numbering. Blogger's function that counts long ago died--around 520 I think. And or course, with six blogs, I have a lot more than 1000 entries--probably about 1700. Somehow, it just feels right to number them. I haven't put them into subject categories for a long time. That was really tedious. Like work. Besides, someone made fun of me--called me a compulsive, sensible librarian or something for creating an index.

1000 Do you know why Canadian drugs are cheaper?

“It is imperative we all clearly understand why such a significant price disparity exists between U.S. drug costs and those in most other developed nations. If we don't understand the factors underlying the price gap, we might support the pending irrational Senate legislation -- sponsored, among others, by Sens. Byron Dorgan, North Dakota Democrat, and John McCain, Arizona Republican -- which would cripple the U.S. pharmaceutical industry, regarded as the world's most innovative. This would deprive us, and our children and grandchildren, of the blockbuster drugs of the future.

Today's new lifesaving, life-enhancing pharmaceuticals, almost all developed and produced in the U.S., are cheaper in Canada because international law treats prescription drugs differently than other consumer products. U.S. pharmaceutical companies are required under a 1994 treaty to sell their drugs at drastically cut prices to countries with drug price controls. Any pharmaceutical company that fails to comply risks losing its patent protection -- its drugs can be stolen and copied.” Elizabeth Whelan, Washington Times, April 18, 2005.

Do some research. Look at other industries. When have price controls (including rent controls) ever helped the American consumer in the long run? The end result is shortages. What if you produced a product, were then required to sell it below profit to another country in order to stay in business, and then required to stand by as it was illegally imported, cutting into your American market? How long would you stay in business? You should be particularly concerned if you or a member of your family will have any future health problems that might benefit from drugs now being developed. And of course, you have no way of knowing, do you, what might turn up at your next annual check-up.

999 Incontinent

I thought Glenn Beck would wet himself this morning, he was so estatic over Mayor Coleman's hosting the Black Mayors Conference here in Columbus. All he had to do to get hysterical was 1) play clips of Coleman denying he had anything at all to do with school policy, then 2) read the outline of the conference which included a program on the role of mayors in school policy, then 3) read the lyrics of rapper Ludacris who will be appearing at the conference. Ludacris' opus-pocus includes a paean to assaults in the classroom and other places in the schools like the rest rooms and athletic field. Really, Glenn says he hopes Mayor Coleman is elected Governor, because he will provide him with unlimited comedy material for years to come.

To catch you up here in the event you don't listen to Beck or read the Columbus Dispatch, a developmentally disabled girl was assaulted at one of the Columbus schools, and Glenn Beck, who incidentally brought the world's attention to Terri Schaivo 5 years ago, called our mayor to discuss how the incident had been handled (badly). It turned into an unbelievable shouting match on the airways, which Beck has now cut, chopped and clipped for rebroadcasting and ridiculing. He is appearing in Columbus tonight to raise money for the family of the girl, and for scholarships to get kids out of CPS into private schools. The Conference is at the same time as the Beck appearance (sold out).

998 Hillary Clinton's Chicken and Rice Deluxe

Politicians' wives recipes are popular for fund raisers and campaigning. This recipe apparently appeared in Recipes from Hope, Arkansas (1992) and was requested by a reader of the Columbus Dispatch. I noticed it yesterday (food section is on Wednesday) and noted that I had most of the ingredients on hand, so I fixed it for supper last night. Incidentally, I think Senator Clinton is doing a fine job representing New York.

Remember the flap about Mrs. Heinz-Kerry's cookie recipe? Not only was it not very good, but it wasn't even hers by her own admission--after it was published. But I think this one looks like a recipe that a busy lawyer whose spouse also worked might fix, because it has so many short cuts popular with today's cooks--packaged rice, mayonnaise and cream of celery soup in place of a cream sauce, and canned beans. I had to make a few minor substitutions--didn't have long-grain or wild rice, so I used white. Also, I'm wondering if a 6 oz. can of green beans is a misprint, but I did have the small can on hand. Small broccoli would probably work well too. I don't add salt because the canned soup has a lot, and I used RealLemon, not juice of a lemon. But, with too many adjustments, it wouldn't be Hillary's recipe, would it?

1 package (6 oz) wild rice or long-grain and wild rice mix
2 TBS chopped green pepper
2 TBS chopped onion
2 TBS butter
2 cups cooked chopped chicken
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 can (6 oz.) French-cut green beans, drained
1 can (10.75 oz) cream of celery soup
1/2 cup sliced water chestnuts
1/4 tsp. salt
Juice of 1 lemon
1 cup shredded cheese

I served it with toasted, buttered rolls and fresh strawberries topped with Cool Whip.

997 A heartfelt thank-you from Iraq's President

"Iraqis sometimes wonder in amazement what the debate abroad is about. Why do people continue to ask why no WMD was found?

The truth is that Saddam had, in the past, used chemical and biological weapons against his own people, and we believed he would do so again.

Of course Saddam himself was, in the view of those who opposed him, Iraq’s most dangerous WMD."

Letter to Prime Minister Tony Blair from President Jalal Talabani of Iraq

Seen at Roger L. Simon's blog.

996 A remarkable story

Rebecca writes from Whitehorse, Yukon and is about to become a Canadian (don't know from where she immigrated). I return to her site because she offers two things I enjoy--hymn stories and personal stories. Recently, Scott Gilbreath was the guest blogger, and he told his faith story. It is one of the more remarkable and unusual ones I've read. It is a reminder that if you are reading this and think, well, this isn't for me, God might have something else in mind entirely.

995 Finding a Founding Father at Meijer’s

My grocery bill would be more reasonable if I stayed out of the non-food section of Meijer’s. This week I took a stroll through the book section--some weeks it is towels, other times it might be CDs. Anyway, I came across Ron Chernow’s Alexander Hamilton and couldn’t resist. In paperback and with the 25% discount, it was $13.50.

“Hamilton's was "the most dramatic and improbable life of any of the founding fathers" (p. 713), a life "so tumultuous that only an audacious novelist could have dreamed it up" (p. 4). He grew up on St. Croix in the West Indies and by age fourteen his life was a tragedy of Dickensian proportions: his father deserted the family, his mother died, his cousin who was supposed to care for him committed suicide, and his aunt, uncle and grandmother all died. Family assets were auctioned to pay debts. He never finished high school or college. At age seventeen the orphaned, penniless Hamilton sailed to New York City, which would become his home, and began to evidence traits that would characterize his entire life—unrelenting drive, superhuman stamina for work, and a prodigious intellect.

By age twenty-two he was Washington's de facto chief of staff. After distinguishing himself as a hero in the Revolutionary War (he fought in the front lines for five years), he eventually became a key contributor to the Constitution, the primary energy behind the Federalist Papers (he wrote 51 of the 85 articles), and the first Secretary of the Treasury at age thirty-four. He founded our first central bank and financial markets, and articulated a prescient, entrepreneurial vision for a vibrant, capitalist, global economy (in contrast to Jefferson's backward-looking dream of a bucolic, agrarian America). He organized the Coast Guard and wrote plans for a military academy to train a standing army. He practiced law as one of the country's leading attorneys and started a newspaper. His published, collected works of legal, political and personal papers run to over 30 volumes.”

Although I’m not looking forward to reading 800 pages, I think he is an amazing man, and the obstacles he overcame are stunning. If I can get it read by next Monday, I’ll recommend it for next year’s book club reading list. Several years ago we read John Adams by David McCollough and it was one of our most interesting selections. But it would need to be September’s selection so people could get it read over the summer!

994 Cannabis Use a Predictor for Schizophrenia

Whether caused by alcohol or drugs, messing up a teen-ager’s developing brain seems to have life long effects. Such a pity, since they know everything by 16, right?

“Per Dr. Murray, individuals with psychotic symptoms use 2 to 3 times as much cannabis as the general population. There is, however, a question of cause vs effect: that is, does cannabis use increase the risk of psychosis or do those with psychosis choose to use cannabis in order to reduce the impact of their psychotic symptoms?

Dr. Murray quoted prior research supporting the concept that cannabis use is a cause for schizophrenia. In one study of Swedish army recruits followed over 15 years, high consumers of cannabis were 6 times as likely as noncannabis users to develop schizophrenia. This included analyses adjusting for other psychiatric illnesses and social background.[9] Also, in a recently published study of a birth cohort of children followed over 25 years, daily users of cannabis had 1.6 to 1.8 times the rates of psychotic symptoms compared with nonusers.[10] In another study, those who were cannabis users by age 18 years were 1.65 times as likely to have schizophrenia by age 26 years.[11] If they used cannabis by age 15 years, they were 4.5 times as likely to develop schizophrenia by age 26 years.”

Highlights of the American Psychopathological Association Meeting, March 3-5, 2005 as reported at http://www.medscape.com/.

993 Anybody here read Hungarian?

I used to work for a woman whose native language was Hungarian. She had little respect for English, although her command of it was awesome. She said English just didn't have any good swear words, like Hungarian. She thought Hungarian was absolutely the finest for insulting people, their ancestors, their sexuality, their integrity, God and animals. One day she got very mad and threw the telephone through the window in her office. That was back in the days when phones weren't made of light weight plastic, when they had some heft. Then she pulled it back in through the window; that was back in the days when telephones were connected to walls by wires. Then she threw it through a second window. There are things you just can't do with cell phones, like breaking windows and terrifying your staff. Perhaps she had forgotten her Hungarian and English just didn't do the trick, so she used the phone. And you probably thought nothing interesting ever happened in libraries.

I thought of her today when I saw this sign, and wondered if someone was swearing in Hungarian.

992 If there were no ALA tomorrow

it would make absolutely no difference to anyone, not librarians, not library boards and trustees, certainly not library users (also known as patrons, customers, and clients). Just for jollies, type (aka key) "Laura Bush ALA" into Google for a romp through left-wing rants on "how-dare-ALA-award-Laura Bush-anything-because-it-might-mean-she-isn't-interested-in-libraries-but-she supports-the-President's-policies." Oh, the pixels wasted by these petty tyrants who populate every ALA committee--and you thought they just walked around in sensible shoes and modest blazers, reading book reviews and restarting your computer in the reference rooms of America.

'Scuse me, you say softly, I haven't a clue what an ALA is. I'm not surprised. It is the acronym for the American Library Association. I'm not sure what it does--except collect over priced dues from members, because I had a wonderful career as a librarian and never joined. Even in the days when I was a humanist and a liberal and a Democrat, I had no use for this organization. It can't do the single most important thing a professional organization absolutely must do--get its members' salaries to a decent, 21st century level by convincing the general public and its membership that librarians are worth a living wage, that they contribute to society. It also can't get library bond issues passed--libraries are either closing or struggling on limited budgets and hours all over the country. That's probably because ALA is fixated on the federal government, although I haven't researched just where it has gone wrong.

Perhaps to keep the organization from looking downright silly, the president has had to remind these pouters on the left that in the past ALA has honored:

President Lyndon Johnson
President Jimmy Carter
Rosalyn Carter
Barbara Bush
Sen Mark Hatfield
Sen Nancy Kassebaum
Sen Claiborne Pell
Sen Paul Simon
Rep Pat Williams
Sen Al Gore
Sen Robert Kerrey
Sen Jack Reed
Sen Edward Kennedy
Sen Robert Byrd
Sen William Cohen
Sen Thomas Eagleton
Sen James Exon
Sen Tom Harkin
Sen John Rockefeller IV
Sen Olympia Snowe
Sen Ted Stevens
Sen Ralph Yarborough
Sen Lister Hill
Sen Hubert Humphrey
Sen Wendell Ford
Rep Sid Yates
Rep Vic Fazio
Rep Daniel Flood
Rep Don Fraser
Rep Sam Gibbons
Rep William Goodling
Rep Edward Markey
Rep Pat Roberts
Rep Edith Green
Rep John Fogarty
Rep Verne Ehlers
Rep Carl Elliott
Rep Silvio Conte
Rep Duke Cunningham
Rep Ralph Regula
Rep Pete Hoekstra
Rep Major Owens
Rep John Porter
Rep William Ford
Rep William Natcher
Secretary of Education Richard Riley
Secretary of Education William Bennett

Sigh. What a bunch of whiners and babies the left is.

991 Weather Report

A blog is a "web log," a diary you keep on the internet. Therefore, it is OK to place an entry in your very own personal diary about the crazy weather. It is April 24, 2005, Dear Diary, 3:30 in the afternoon, and snowing. Even in Ohio, I think this is a record. My daughter called from Cleveland last night to check on our weather. They had gone up to help her in-laws and she had become quite ill and was checking on travel conditions for the trip home. They already had an inch on the ground in Cleveland, but we just had a mist, I told her. By 6:30 this morning, I looked out over stretches of white. But I must say, a coating of snow on the bright green grass, the flowering crabs and the yellow and red tulips is an awesome sight.

Occasionally, I look at my mother's letters, but only for her hand writing. Mother was a saint, everyone says so, but even reading between the lines I can't find her. Her letters were crop and weather reports, and somehow, re-reading how the garden was doing and what storm had just passed on June 14, 1973 isn't terribly fascinating 30+ years later. Except to recall how she looked in the garden in her straw hat, her fingers twitching in wet leather gloves waiting for me to finish talking so she could get back to the weeding. And the storms are lovely to recall, because here in the city we might see something coming up over the trees suddenly, but staring out over the soybeans and corn in Lee County Illinois, the storms are magnificent, rolling, boiling, and sometimes fooling you and skipping on over to Amboy or Rochelle.

One time back in the 1950s we children found my father's letters written while he was a Marine in WWII. Daddy had won an award for typing at Polo high school--30 wpm I think I saw on the card. It was that, or possibly his age (30 when he enlisted) or number of dependants, that probably kept him out of combat to return home to his wife, four children, large extended family, and job at the end of 1945. The letters were tied with a pink ribbon and tucked under blankets in the attic chest, so of course it was an invitation for little folks to read them. Mother was a calm, reasonable, rational person who rarely raised her voice or scolded, but she decided that those letters then must be destroyed. Our discovery in the attic may be the reason her own letters were about temperatures, soil, root crops and compost. It's possible she may have written about snow in April. Some day I'll check.

Unintended consequences

If you read no other article on gay marriage, read this one (it's long). After laying out the history of what major reforms in income tax, welfare and divorce have done to society in general, with everything coming home to roost that the reformers assured us wouldn't happen, she says she has no opinion or advice, but. . .

"My only request is that people try to be a leeetle more humble about their ability to imagine the subtle results of big policy changes. The argument that gay marriage will not change the institution of marriage because you can't imagine it changing your personal reaction is pretty arrogant. It imagines, first of all, that your behavior is a guide for the behavior of everyone else in society, when in fact, as you may have noticed, all sorts of different people react to all sorts of different things in all sorts of different ways, which is why we have to have elections and stuff. And second, the unwavering belief that the only reason that marriage, always and everywhere, is a male-female institution (I exclude rare ritual behaviors), is just some sort of bizarre historical coincidence, and that you know better, needs examining. If you think you know why marriage is male-female, and why that's either outdated because of all the ways in which reproduction has lately changed, or was a bad reason to start with, then you are in a good place to advocate reform. If you think that marriage is just that way because our ancestors were all a bunch of repressed bastards with dark Freudian complexes that made them homophobic bigots, I'm a little leery of letting you muck around with it."

989 Self-Esteem--were we all duped?

This article on self-esteem was published about two months ago, but I just came across it. Written by John Fischer, "Forget about Self-Esteem" points out that there is no research to support that the mantra of the last 30 years about the importance of high self-esteem is at all valid.

"I read this article with jaw-dropping amazement at the matter-of-fact nature in which all this was stated. “A generation — and many millions of dollars — later,” Baumeister writes, “it turns out we may have been mistaken.” That sounds awfully hollow after thirty years of a lie. If psychologists are the secular priests of our generation, then it’s as if they are confessing to us they’ve been following the wrong god for the last thirty years, and are now recommending we switch religions with about the same level of compassion for leading us astray as Britney Spears expressed in her early hit “Oops!... I Did It Again.” "

Fischer concludes that our own realization of the hollowness of this "religion of self-esteem" may account for the success of Rick Warren's book. "It's not about you," Warren asserts.

"The central message of Purpose Driven Life is that true meaning in life is found in discovering we were made to worship God and serve one another, and the happiest lives are going to be spent in focusing outwardly instead of inwardly. It’s as if a generation has been trying to find itself and someone has come along and said: Listen up folks. You’re looking in the wrong place. You don’t find yourself by looking inside, you find yourself by looking out, and finding your place in the wider scheme of what we know as God’s will. Or, to put it in Jesus’ words, “He who would lose his life for my sake will find it.” "

988 Suggested state mottoes

This is going around the Internet. Hugh Hewitt says he doesn't know the source, and Release the Hounds cites, Hugh, so I don't know where it started. But to look at Florida and Washington's slogans, it must be pretty recent. Minnesota's is funny. Ohio's could be worse, considering we rank 50th in the governorship battle, and have recently made the news 3 days in a row on the Glenn Beck show for an inept gubernatorial candidate (Mayor of Columbus) who sounds like Jesse Jackson in reverse.

Alabama
Hell Yes, We Have Electricity.

Alaska
11,623 Eskimos Can't Be Wrong!

Arizona
But It's A Dry Heat.

Arkansas
Literacy Ain't Everything.

California
By 30, Our Women Have More Plastic Than Your Honda.

Colorado
If You Don't Ski, Don't Bother.

Connecticut
Like Massachusetts,
Only The Kennedy's Don't Own It Yet.

Delaware
We Really Do Like The Chemicals In Our Water.

Florida
Ask Us About Our Grandkids
And Our Voting Skills.

Georgia
We Put The Fun In Fundamentalist Extremism.

Hawaii
Haka Tiki Mou Sha'ami Leeki Toru
(Death To Mainland Scum,Leave Your Money)

Idaho
More Than Just Potatoes...
Well, Okay, We're Not, But The Potatoes Sure Are Real Good

Illinois
Please, Don't Pronounce the "S"

Indiana
2 Billion Years Tidal Wave Free

Iowa
We Do Amazing Things With Corn

Kansas
First Of The Rectangle States

Kentucky
Five Million People; Fifteen Last Names

Louisiana
We're Not ALL Drunk Cajun Wackos,
But That's Our Tourism Campaign.

Maine
We're Really Cold, But We Have Cheap Lobster

Maryland
If You Can Dream It, We Can Tax It

Massachusetts
Our Taxes Are Lower Than Sweden's
And Our Senators Are More Corrupt!

Michigan
First Line Of Defense From The Canadians

Minnesota
10,000 Lakes...And 10,000,000,000,000 Mosquitoes

Mississippi
Come And Feel Better About Your Own State

Missouri
Your Federal Flood Relief Tax Dollars At Work

Montana
Land Of The Big Sky, The Unabomber, Right-wing Crazies,
and Honest Elections!

Nebraska
Ask About Our State Motto Contest

Nevada
Hookers and Poker!

New Hampshire
Go Away And Leave Us Alone

New Jersey
You Want A ##$%##! Motto?
I Got Yer ##$%##! Motto
Right here!

New Mexico
Lizards Make Excellent Pets

New York
You Have The Right To Remain Silent,
You Have The Right
To An Attorney...And No Right To Self Defense!

North Carolina
Tobacco Is A Vegetable

North Dakota
We Really Are One Of The 50 States!

Ohio
At Least We're Not Michigan

Oklahoma
Like The Play, But No Singing

Oregon
Spotted Owl...It's What's For Dinner

Pennsylvania
Cook With Coal

Rhode Island
We're Not REALLY An Island

South Carolina
Remember The Civil War?
Well, We Didn't Actually Surrender Yet

South Dakota
Closer Than North Dakota

Tennessee
Home of the Al Gore Invention Museum.

Texas
Se Hablo Ingles

Utah
Our Jesus Is Better Than Your Jesus

Vermont
Ay, Yep

Virginia
Who Says Government Stiffs And Slackjaw Yokels Don't Mix?

Washington
Our Governor can out-fraud your Governor!

West Virginia
One Big Happy Family...Really!

Wisconsin
Come Cut Cheese!

Wyoming
Where Men Are Men... And The Sheep Are Scared

&
The District of Columbia
The Work-Free Drug Place!

987 Escape and Acquisition

Library Dust is probably one of the finest blogs about books and the experience of becoming a librarian that I've read. I don't know if he has finally found the job of his dreams, or if he is still looking, but he always has thoughtful, wandering essays that take you to places you didn't expect. Recently he has written about a childhood made less painful by reading what was available in the library.

"By way of escape I mean that the experience of reading transported me to other places, and not so much that as it kept me from inhabiting, at least consciously, a world that was by turns dull and disappointing. I do not recall a single day of elementary or middle school that rose above the level of boredom; the days seemed to last forever and be filled with nothing, the journey from Monday to Friday being an interminable passage over a becalmed sea in deep fog. I do not recall inspired teachers, only rote and routine. Very early in the game I got into the habit of reading my own books in class; pretty soon this got me into trouble because of what I wasn’t doing, which is to say, the assigned work. I filtered downward into the classes for the lazy and less-intelligent students, and rather preferred the lack of challenge. There, in the land of the dumb, the boy who read books was a relief from the usual recalcitrant or slow child, and I was left largely to my own devices. In the rear of every classroom sat a large set of encyclopedias to which I could refer when my own book was finished; I went from Aardvark to Zenith and back again, over and over. I was the best behaved bad child in the school; my brother chose a more conventional path of disobedience and suffered for it. Not me: I learned that the most important thing is not to cause audible trouble. I can count on one hand the homework assignments I completed on time, but I never went to the principal’s office once. I presented a confusing set of signals and my teachers, being busy people, chose to deal with the reader rather than the rebel. All of which was good for a young book addict."

Having loved school myself, I can't imagine the kind of classrooms and teachers he describes. I lived in tiny school districts, Forreston and Mt. Morris, Illinois, but with the exception of a few total losers (a man fired before the classes started who was a pedophile who had submitted false credentials, a music teacher we ran out of town because we were so rotten, and a coach who was fired because he exposed himself), I had outstanding teachers totally committed to making learning, self discipline and common decency important to children. Even my first/second grade teacher (who may still be alive: she was over 100 the last I heard) who was mean as dirt, taught me to read with phonics, spell, figure out paragraphs and made a huge display of my art work. However, little girls did have it easier in school than noisy, smelly, sweaty little boys, so your mileage with school memories will vary depending on gender.

Michael then continues with his unhappy recollections: "Escape also had to do with home life, which was usually just as boring as school but had the added feature of a father who swung between the poles of depression and anxiety, and who learned fatherhood in the “don’t make me hit you” school of parenting. The lighter forms of discipline meted out in my house would get a kid removed to a foster home these days; the heavier ones would land you in the emergency room. My father snarled when he was upset, and it took very little to disturb his equanimity. He was in fact an alcoholic who never drank, who suppressed his cravings with work, and indeed, overwork. When the Old Man had drunk his fill of teaching, he went to a school board meeting or political function. He never did anything halfway except raise kids; he tossed occasional scraps of caring to his two sons and left us to fight over them. My brother became an alcoholic and drug addict about the time I was burying myself in books, and for the same reason. Neither of us has changed habits much over the years."

Although I had the usual disagreements with my parents, particularly because I was a real smart-mouth teen-ager who knew everything, I'd give my parents a gold medal. Reading accounts of childhood like Library Dust's makes me grieve for the little guy he was, figuring out life through books instead of observing adults. My parents didn't drink, smoke, scream, or embarrass the family; they weren't lazy but weren't workaholics either; they were active in church and community; I could count on one hand the number of times I walked into my house and one of my parents weren't there; they were frugal and giving both; they weren't particularly social folks having large extended families instead of close friends; and perhaps most important for a child to feel secure, they loved and admired and respected each other.

I read a lot as a child too (mainly horse stories, dog stories and history), and often visited the library, but mainly as a place to hang out with friends--afterall, there are no malls in towns of 2800. Books didn't really begin to matter to me until I was about 25--and it took library school to open those doors for me. Today's librarians are increasingly computer geeks, interested in manipulating and managing "information" and "knowledge." Not much solace in that, now is there?