Posted on October 10, 2004
By now, the media has dissected Friday night’s presidential debate and there really isn’t much more to say. Yet, I feel compelled to comment on a couple things.
First, I liked this format – the town hall approach – better than the “You must stay behind the lectern at all times” approach. I also liked seeing other Americans, who were publicized as being undecided, ask their questions of the candidates, rather than having one newscaster create the entire set.
I thought each candidate improved over the first debate, but in different ways. George seemed less emotional with his facial expressions, although at one point he interrupted Moderator Charlie Gibson to press an answer. Even when Gibson attempted to stall him, George pushed on. However, during the debate’s ninety minutes, he didn’t move those eyebrows so much.
John seemed more conversational and human, rather than confrontational and robotic. He had an advantage in that the media announced two days before that Saddam Hussein apparently had no weapons of mass destruction at the time of our most recent invasion. So, he asked aloud, what was the real rationale for invading Iraq?
Both men wore better costumes for the format. Both had variations of power ties around their necks. Both came out with guns loaded. Which tells me each is capable, under certain conditions, of learning from previous experience. However, I noticed Bush didn’t change his position on Iraq at all, in spite of the recent revelations. In this case, it’s a question of one man’s single-mindedness regardless of what experience teaches.
And Charlie Gibson, the moderator? Well, he seemed less in control.
See more 10 Minutes in category 2004 Election, Special Events
|
Posted on October 9, 2004
Earl brings me coffee in bed every morning, because I hold the world’s record for taking the longest time to wake up. It doesn’t matter what time I went to bed the night before or what time it is in the morning, I hate waking up. When I accomplish putting my feet on the floor, then I consider the hardest thing on my daily to-do list can be checked off.
That said, this morning at 6:15 a.m., as my hand reached for the pungent coffee in my favorite mug, I looked around our bedroom. I often look around our bedroom, but today I found myself focusing on six photographs that hug the eastern wall. They are all of children.
No, I don’t have six children. Rather these photographs span three generations, the first of them – my Uncle Jimmy – was taken in the early 1920s. The last of them — my younger son Keith — was taken around 1974. So they span approximately fifty years.
I look at them and remember. I smile.
I deliberately made a collage of children’s photos to represent these three generations, because these photos were taken long before the subjects experienced the trials and tribulations of adult life. Long before worry and wrinkles set in.
There’s my Uncle Jimmy, who died unexpectedly in 1965. There’s my Aunt Alice, with whom I feel a closeness that I imagine sisterhood encompasses. Then there’s a group photo of Jimmy and Alice and my mother, Pat, who was the eldest sibling of the three. They are sitting closely together and pouring over a book, oblivious to the camera. It’s a wonderful shot. Next is a photo of me, taken around kindergarten age. And finally, there are photos of my two sons taken long before either was eager to attend school but long after my uncle died. They never knew him.
I looked at these photos and memories flooded my psyche. I’m so glad I chose to display my family this way on a wall that greets me every morning when I’m trying to wake up. It makes the process easier.
See more 10 Minutes in category Me/Family, Nostalgia
|
Posted on October 8, 2004
Chicago Cubs rightfielder Sammy Sosa was fined a day’s work for his behavior on the last day of the season, because he came late and left early without ever participating in the game. Oh, by the way, a day’s pay for Sammy is $87,000 and some change, which is probably more than most Americans make in a year.
Sammy reminds me of a rude guest at a dinner party. The invitation said 4 PM for cocktails (think stretching and batting practice) and 5 PM to sit down for the main course (think actual game). But the guest arrived while the entrйe was being served. He didn’t even say anything to the host (think manager) nor was he pleasant to the other guests (think teammates). Deciding the party wasn’t to his liking, he left before dessert.
Maybe this year’s party wasn’t as much fun as Sammy and the others had hoped; but even thought it didn’t live up to the advance publicity, proper etiquette is proper etiquette.What Sammy, who was the Captain of this year’s team, should have done was go around to every single player after the final out and thank him personally for his efforts. He should have included the manager in his thank yous too.
I understand Sammy wants to appeal his fine. Well, I hope it stands. And . . . I won’t be inviting him to any of my dinner parties in the near future. I’d be too afraid of offending my other guests.
See more 10 Minutes in category Annoyances, Dining/Food
|
Posted on October 7, 2004
Earl and I drove to Grand Rapids, Michigan, yesterday to have dinner with his grandson and the grandson’s wife. We came back a couple hours ago, having had a wonderful meal and even more wonderful conversation. The guest bedroom offered fine accommodations too. We weren’t gone 24 hours, but it felt as if we had checked out of the rat race.
When we’re at home, Earl has at least one radio and one television on at all times so as not to miss a single tick in the stock market or the truth according to various talking heads. Our phones ring regularly and the whir of lawn mowers and deck blowers is often heard in the background.
We left all that behind us. On the way to Grand Rapids, we listened to a baseball game, but Earl doesn’t consider baseball part of the above-mentioned rat race. To him it’s as important as breathing. On the way back, he did a crossword puzzle while I drove. The radio slept.
I remember when Huntley and Brinkley offered their view of the day’s activities in a mere fifteen minutes. Now we have wall-to-wall coverage; and, to accomplish that, stories are expanded, repeated, embellished, and updated over and over. During our mini-trip, the stock market took a minor dive, Baghdad took another assault, and the rest of the world survived without our learning about it in real time.
I think I’d like to check out more often.
See more 10 Minutes in category Annoyances, Changing Scene, Travel
|
Posted on October 6, 2004
There’s a sense of panic in the autumn air. Leaves, which should be gradually turning their various colors, fall to the ground unchanged. Flowers bloom one day and wilt the next. Squirrels fight with each other over the walnuts that our trees have graciously dropped for their examination. And it’s only early October.
The man who prunes my trees this time every year has a theory. According to him and the Farmer’s Almanac he cites, these are all signs that the approaching winter will be harsh and long. Snow and plenty of it is on the horizon.
In anticipation, the leaves fall to be done with it. The flowers are prey to temperatures that drop acutely at night, although they are reasonable during the day. And perhaps the walnuts, which are more plentiful than I ever remember, are a blessing if the squirrels are to survive until next April.
There are other signs too. The mosquitoes left our yard early. The geese are practicing formations over our river, while the herons fly back and forth almost inconsolably. And I haven’t seen a hummingbird in two weeks.
I’ve never been one to adhere to the Farmer’s Almanac, but this year has made a believer of me. I’m stocking my pantry and weatherproofing my house and making sure my car performs at sub-zero temperatures. As additional insurance, I may even book a cruise in January.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene, Flora/Fauna
|
Posted on October 5, 2004
I’ve reviewed my notes regarding the recent political debate between incumbent Bush and challenger Kerry. I’ve also listened to a variety of talking heads regarding who was the winner on that evening. And tonight, as I fill the time between dinner and the start of the vice-presidential candidates’ debate, I’m going on record as noting that both presidential candidates have barnacles attached to their messages.
This probably isn’t an issue that will decide the upcoming election, but it is an issue that is dear to my heart. So I choose to belabor the point, in the hope of encouraging others to evaluate if speaking correctly should be a presidential criterion. (This is different from speaking well.)
Either or both candidates used the following phrases: “track down,” “hunt down,” cut off aid,” “hike up,” and “meet up with.” I’m also pretty positive that each candidate used barnacles that I didn’t catch in my barnacle net, which means their errors exceed my reportage of them.
In my humble opinion, both candidates should be chastised for adding ‘down’, ‘off’, and ‘up’ to their answers. It’s also my humble opinion that these gaffes are not on the same par with committing soldiers or vetoing bills, but they do suggest a certain lack of understanding.
So, if someone is sitting on the political fence when November 2 rolls around and that person needs a tie-breaker, what would be wrong with making it about which candidate uses more barnacles than the other?
See more 10 Minutes in category 2004 Election, Writing
|
Posted on October 4, 2004
When I was fourteen I went to Europe with my grandmother for seven weeks and returned home fifteen pounds heavier than when I’d left. That was cause for my first introduction to dieting. Back then, calories were the way one approached losing weight. You had to eat fewer calories than you expended each day; and when you’d eaten approximately 3500 less than your body needed, one pound disappeared.
The same basic math holds true today, but dieting itself has become more complicated. First, like so many things in our modern culture, there’s the concept of personal choice. You are supposed to pick the diet that works for you, just as you pick a baked potato, rice pilaf, or curly fries.
I’m confused.
In my teen years, Sugar was the main culprit for weight gain, but by the end of the twentieth century Fat had become the villain. Now we are barely into the twenty-first century and Carbs have emerged as the villains of all villains. Even the big fast food chains are offering breadless burgers.
I always thought too much fat wasn’t good for you, particularly if high cholesterol or a family history of colon cancer clung to your genes. I also thought carbs were good, particularly if you were preparing for a marathon or some other equally strenuous exercise. Now, Atkins devotees say they are bad and fat is good.
However, the real issue isn’t about substituting fat for carbs or sugar for fat. Rather, it’s about how much one can eat and still lose weight. We seem to forget those every-present, although-currently-in-hiding, calories; and it seems to me that replacing carbs with fat doesn’t address this issue.
My current diet regime – whenever I decide to go on one — is pretty simple. I cut my carbs in half, keep fat to a healthy level, and have fresh fruit when a sugar craving occurs. Most often, my fruit is a juicy lime . . . floating face up . . . in my before-dinner cocktail.
See more 10 Minutes in category Changing Scene, Dining/Food
|
Posted on October 3, 2004
It’s a funny thing about grammar. Most people think it’s a set of rules cast in stone that they learned in grade school and then were forced to follow forevermore. It’s as if they could write only sentences and paragraphs and essays that fit a precut template.
Perhaps this is why the study of grammar holds as much excitement as having a wart removed or one’s eyebrows tweezed. Most of us grit our teeth and endure the agony because we want to be seen in the best light possible, but none of these things are done for their sheer enjoyment.
I answer grammar questions on this web site and am amazed with how many people out there want to know specific points about our language. They’re eager to use it correctly, but they’re unsure. I don’t think it is because they didn’t do their eighth grade grammar homework. Or that they don’t have a current dictionary.
I believe it’s because the notion that writers and speakers use grammar to make themselves understood better wasn’t emphasized enough in those elementary school texts. It was all about memorizing the rules. Next, it was about examples that clearly demonstrated the rule under particular question, but it was hardly about using the same rules in everyday situations.
Regardless of age or profession, those who contact me seem eager to make this transition. For instance, one emailer wanted to know where, if anywhere, to put an apostrophe in the title, “Veterans Memorial.” Given that the words were to be chiseled in marble, it was an important question.
See more 10 Minutes in category Writing
|
Posted on October 2, 2004
There was a report on the news this morning that hackers have figured out a way to bypass the Caller ID function, but not by punching in the familiar *67 and having the little screen in one’s telephone blink “Unavailable.” Instead, these hackers somehow obtain a phone number from your speed dial list and use it to call you. You’ll answer because you recognize the number when it flashes on the little screen as that of your best friend, Alice, or your new boyfriend, Jack.
The report said that these activities are, as of now, completely legal; and a company called — what else? — Star 67 is even marketing a program based on these abilities to such professionals as debt collectors and telemarketers. I use the term ‘professionals’ in the broadest sense.
I’m sure the telephone companies won’t take this lying down. Especially since the general public seems to love knowing who’s calling before picking up. However, until they get it worked out, I see a potential resurgence in answering machines and voicemail. When these devices kick in, any person who uses another’s phone number for camouflage will either need to hang up or leave a message. In either case, their objective is thwarted.
Although I pay for it in my monthly service package (because it’s cheaper to buy the Full Package than it is to purchase the Individual Features), I don’t use Caller ID. Never did. My telephone instrument doesn’t even have that little screen, and I’ve already got my voicemail system programmed. So I’m secretly feeling smug that I won’t have withdrawal symptoms when those little screens all over America become obsolete.
Posted on October 1, 2004
The John and George Show premiered last night; and, while I haven’t heard any statistics on viewer interest, I doubt The Apprentice or The Sopranos need worry about ratings. Besides, the J and G Show is only a mini-series with no chance of becoming a prime time weekly program. It certainly won’t replace Friends.
Yet, I’m struck with the similarities between last night’s plot and some of the other shows on television. Basically, it was the story of two men who are vying for the same prize, and only one of them can have it. Each person waits for his opponent to make some critical mistake. Donald Trump starts with more players, but the object is the same. The contestants on Survivor endure more physical challenges, but the object is still the same.
The hopefuls on American Idol sign up for the equivalent of primaries in various cities to determine who will actually compete on the national level. For those who make it that far, professional aye- and naysayers then offer their blunt opinions before the general public gets to vote. The campaigning and voting go on for weeks until the one and only next American Idol is chosen.
The more I think about it, The John and George Show is the ultimate reality TV, but it could use some pizzazz. Maybe for the next debate the main characters could don swimsuits instead of power suits and sing their answers to the accompaniment of a piano played in the key of A (for America) by the moderator.
See more 10 Minutes in category 2004 Election
|
