Transatlantic Grief

I couldn't find the phone when it rang this evening, just as I was going to start dinner. M answered it; I assumed it was my husband letting us know which train he was on. But then I could just make out some confusion in M's voice, so I called out to him to bring me the phone.

M handed me the phone and said somewhat quizzically, "I think it's somebody in Norway."

Ah. It was MR.


MR is an old friend of my husband's family. I'm not sure where or how the connection began, but it is going on fifty years, I think. My husband remembers her and her husband throughout his childhood and the name has been familiar to me since long before my husband and I were married. However, I have never met MR - I've only heard rather charming stories and spoken with her on the phone.

We've had four or five calls from MR in the last couple of years after at least a decade of nothing. The first time she called she was looking for help, and she told a rather incredible story.

It seems her husband, who was no longer her husband, had long been maintaining a double life. For much of the time she was married, he was high up on a cruise line and was based out of Germany. In Germany, he had a second wife/mistress with whom he lived openly. When MR and the kids would come for a visit, this woman would move out. When MR and the kids would leave, she would move back in. He would come "home" to visit in Norway as if all was normal. This was an open secret among his colleagues on the cruise line.

When the whole thing came out, MR and her husband divorced. It must have been very difficult, that level of betrayal. I don't know what happened next, but the (ex)husband ended up retiring to a town about 30 miles from where we live now. He had little contact with his kids (now grown, and one with children of his own). Eventually, the (ex)husband was diagnosed with oral cancer, finally married his long-time girlfriend, and died shortly before MRs first call to us.

(Why she called us instead of other family members is still a mystery to us, but at this point it is what it is.)

In that first call, MR was looking for possible legal help. From what she told us (and I don't know if it's true), in Norway, his substantial cruise line pension would have gone in part to the kids, his aging and infirm mother, and even some to MR. Perhaps there were additional provisions in the divorce decree, too. But the current wife was refusing to share at all and since there seems not to be any sort of agreement between the US and Norway on such "domestic" matters, MR was pretty well screwed. While catching up with MR, we tried to direct her to some legal resources.

It was distressing to hear the story, but nice to be back in touch. We had some cards back and forth that Christmas.

But probably three more times in the last couple years, MR has called again, and it's been more than a friendly "let's catch up" call. It's seemed she's really lonely and just needs someone to talk to. I figure with the time difference it's really, really late there and there's no one local she can call. I'm not about to hang up on her.

It was that way tonight. She'd just been in Denmark for the christening of a grandchild and was saying how much like his father one of her sons looks. She went off a bit on how the (ex)husband was a drug-addict, too, and a thief, and all sorts of things. She wasn't making a whole lot of sense.
At some point, it occurred to me that she probably was fairly inebriated.

She sounded so sad. I think this woman is still deeply, deeply hurt by the betrayal of her husband, whom she supported emotionally for decades and who, by virtue of where he died, has left her in difficult financial straits - and caring for his mother. I've never met MR, yet she calls from time to time - just happens to be at times when my husband (whom she knows much better, of course) isn't home and she gets me, just to talk to someone, maybe anyone.

I guess I'm glad I/we can be here for her. I try to ask questions about her life, to pull her away from the hurt parts she can't change. Is that the right thing to do? I don't know. I really don't know her at all. She's a voice on the phone and charming stories. I have no idea what she looks like! It's just such an odd situation.

I'm sure MR will call again. Maybe soon, maybe not. I hope when she wakes up in the morning that she can find the ibuprofen quickly, and maybe a local friend. She says she wants to keep in touch and wrote down our email and snail mail addresses again. She says she wants to send photos and see some of our kids. Sad or not, she is sweet. I think she truly means well.

By the way, K, she asked after you and E. She says she wants to keep in touch with all of us. If she ever does email, I'll pass it along.

Smatterings

In sharp contrast to Pantheist Mom's feelings, I was very annoyed when I had to turn on my headlights and turn up the heat as I left the house this morning.

Yesterday, C was given some grief at school about being an Obama supporter (and for the record, he was more wholly behind Obama before I was). He gave it right back to those kids, with facts. A couple of those kids were stunned to learn that there is a national deficit, one that has increased dramatically over the last 8 years, and the burden per citizen is in the tens of thousands of dollars. Among other things. I bet there were some interesting conversations when those kids went home last night. Awesome. But C and I also talked about not expecting any playdates (I don't know what they are really called at age 12, but not playdates) anytime soon, and he seems okay with that. We talked about trickle down economics and other economic and social issues - and I earned some "cool" points (very hard to come by these days with him) when I told him about a sign I made for a political rally in 1992 ("We've been trickled on enough!").

Our town is very conservative even though the state tends toward liberal. Even so, I see very few McCain stickers on cars. It seems people are planning to vote for him just because he's the GOP candiate, not because they are at all excited about him. It makes me so hopeful when I see Porsches driving around with Obama stickers.

Also, C tells me the mother of one of C's very conservative friends (this kid dressed up as Ronald Reagan for the 4th grade "Heroes" project) is considering changing her political party affiliation from Republican to Independent. Yeah, baby!

I met with M's teacher yesterday. I'm much relieved. We have some enrichment plans in place - math challenge packets, independent study packets, and the like. She said she has already been to talk to the teacher who has the high-end learning group about obseving some of her methods to help M and a couple of other kids in her class.

Speaking of learners on the ends of the spectrum, the local newspaper's Web site has shut down the schools forum due to some nasty and inappropriate commenting by a select group - and specifically one mom of a special needs student. I've mentioned this woman before; definitely has some anger management issues, regardless of whether her base issues are valid are not (some probably are - no school is perfect). At any rate, when I saw that a group of special ed parents had formed a committee for interacting with the schools, I steeled myself against what I assumed would be this woman's personal attack committee. I was pleasantly surprised and amused when I realized that this committee was formed by a group who want to make sure that this angry woman does NOT try to speak for them; they want to work with the schools, not in conflict with them. And now this angry woman is ranting against this parent group on a google group as vociferously as she does against the school committee. How to win friends and influence people, and all that.

Finally on the school front, the local paper last week brought the news that the (totally ineffective) principal of the lower elementary school (the one M just left) is FINALLY retiring. There is hope for S's years there. AND I don't have any kids there for the round of "we love you so much" retirement parties that are sure to go on, so I don't have to fake smile at her! Not such a nice sentiment from me, I know, but I think she really did M some disservice while he was there.

We have a small radio station the next town over that serves our suburban region. It's reach is about a 15 mile radius. Like many small stations, they produce their own ads for local buisnesses. All good and well, they are providing a service, all that - but some of the ads are so, so bad. Think of the worst smarmy radio ads you can think of, and multiply it. Among many attributes of these ads, it sounds like they have exactly one female voice they contract for the ads and her voice is so sing-songy and condescending that I cringe if I have the station on for local traffic reports and an ad comes on. And really that's all I listen to it for - the traffic reports on my early office mornings. Other times I've happened to tune in, there are some nasty liberal bashing talk shows ("Any one who votes for a Democrat should be stripped of their citizenship and deported." I wish I were joking.) and lovely stuff like that. It doesn't help that the mother of the annoying neighbor works for the radio station. Most regions seem to have one or a few small radio stations such as this one. What is it about little stations like that? They are so stereotypical that they are almost quaint, yet...not....

Other fun in town is that the police are doing their annual strong-arm fundraiser. They are calling everyone in town to ask them to buy tickets to events that never actually happen to raise funds for programs I've never seen run. But the implication is there: we know where you live and we want some money. My husband answered the phone this year and commited to $35 or something. But when the person showed up, I refused to give it. See, the person who showed up wasn't a police officer. It was this woman in a very ramshackle car who was dressed in torn shorts and dirty tshirt and REEKED of cigarette smoke. It was so foul. She had no identification on her and I asked what her affiliation was to the police department. She said she just knows some of the guys. So I said no, I would not give her the check.

I figure if the police are going to ask for money, they need to have the courtesy to pick it up themselves and present themselves in a respectable manner.

A few days later the phone rang. Caller ID said "unknown." I don't often pick those calls up, but that day I did. It was the police again, wondering what the misunderstanding was all about. So I told him - if you are going to collect money, do so yourself, and present yourself in a repectable manner. Also, from that day forward, I will not give a dime to anyone who calls me from a blocked phone number. If it really is for official police programs, you can call from one of the dozen or so police lines (overkill for our small town), and let residents know who is calling. Be up-front and clear, and I'll consider it in the future. The guy was kind of stunned, but said he'd take my suggestions under consideration.

I'm definitely not the police department's favorite resident right now.

Close on the heels of that episode has been an effort by the state to have civilians run some traffic details at construction sites, thus cutting off a major source of overtime revenue for police officers. The police unions, of course, don't like it. We're one of the only states (if not the only state) that has officers run all traffic details. It's overkill most of the time. In our town the officers often just stand around listening to their iPods for hours at a time on no-so-busy roads. If I could make $40 an hour just standing around listening to music, I would. However, in our current economic climate, I fully support the governor's effort to move this through. Millions will be saved.

And that's quite enough for today....

I Think I Might Need This Shirt

With apologies to any vegetarians out there.

Praise the Lard.

An Emergency, I Tell You!

From the most recent town police log. Expect the expected, people.

SATURDAY, SEPT. 6
11:22 a.m. M-------- Street, caller reports male walking dogs near (well-known dog walking trail).

SUNDAY, SEPT. 7
11:46 p.m. U---- B----- Road, caller reports neighbor playing guitar.

Angering and Tear-Inducing All at Once

Last Thursday, driving home I heard this story. My jaw dropped and I am lucky I didn't have an accident when I heard this part:

"Leah Moreland, the woman who said she grew up sheltered from prejudice, plans to vote for McCain. Party loyalty is also part of her decision. But her cultural compass also comes into play. She says her gut tells her not to trust Obama.

"I look at Obama, and I have a question in my mind," she says. "Years ago, was he taken into the Muslim faith? And my concern is the only way you are no longer a Muslim is if you are dead, killed. So in my mind, he's still alive."

Although Barack Obama has said repeatedly he is not a Muslim and has never been a Muslim, Moreland is still unconvinced.

"There is something about him I don't trust," she says. "I don't care how good a speaker he is, I just can't trust him."

I was instantly angry and sad at it. I've been trying to figure out how to respond ever since.

On one hand, it's so ludicrous, it seems silly to justify it by responding. On the other, it's a good opportunity to talk about what race and religion does to people, and how it continues to inform our culture. And it's an opportunity to point out how a certain side of the political spectrum is promoting racism and religious bias by putting lies out there.

On the race side of thing, I rather think we are all racist to a certain extent, and those who claim the loudest that "I haven't got a prejudiced bone in my body!" may be some the worst of all because they refuse to see it. I was raised in a fairly racist environment - and thinking about some of the things my extended family used to say makes me cringe. I've made an effort to be aware of prejudice and work against it where I can. I'm the first to admit I still have a long way to go. I don't believe we should be voting for any candidate because he or she is or isn't one thing or another - yet at the same time I am well aware that it does play into which lever to pull or bubble to darken or whatever. I think it will say great things about our country in general if we are able to elect whom I think is the best candidate - but I also worry about what it will mean if we don't.

On the religion side of things, given my religious upbringing, I'm rather aware of religious bias. There were kids who were not allowed to play with me because of my family's religion, and a boyfriend of my sister's broke up with her specifically because of it - and we were a branch of Protestant Christianity! Ms. Moreland's comments speak to her own ignorance about religion, the nature of religious extremism that exists in all major faiths - Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and so on - and denies the declarations of her own religion (I'm assuming she's Christian of some sort or another). Oh, Christian Coalition members, whatever happened to "love one another as I have loved you"? Oh, that's right. You're only "Christian" when it's convenient. And don't forget that John F. Kennedy's Catholicism was an issue in the 1960 election.

There's an intended separation of church and state in this country for very good reasons, and I look to my elected officials to govern appropriately based on that. I'm not ignorant - religion and faith does inform how one views issues - but voting one way or the other because of religious affiliation isn't right. (That said, the one I was concerned about being able to separate religion from state duties was Romney, but he's a whole other can of worms.)

I searched the Web for more on this particular story, and I was heartened to see that this story is getting people talking. People are equally angry and sad at this one woman's comments, but the NPR story as a whole has people looking inward and talking. I think that's a good thing overall.

Though I still feel so sad for how far we haven't come in the US.

Understatement

Just saw this headline on the New York Times site:

A Sense That Wall St.'s Boom Times are Over

Ya think?

Vacation, in Color

I've been meaning to put up some photos from vacation. These are not in chronological order. Click to enlarge, if you so desire. You can see a bunch more if you click the Flickr stream to the left.





Playing around with long exposures:

That Church Saga Continues

After mostly taking the summer off from church, I was there yesterday. The boys were singing. The senior bishop was visiting. I was ambivalent to begin with, now even more so.

The bishop(s) has been getting more involved - which is mostly good, I guess.

For a bishop visit, it was not a spectacular turnout. There were whole pews empty. The combined choirs were down about about a third.

Before the service began, the bishop talked about how wonderful it was to meet with a group of newcomers to the parish before the service (even amid the tumult, there are a handful of new families). He said he's be around to mingle for a short bit after the service, but then had some meetings with the staff in the early afternoon before attending to dicocesan duties.

The service started, and when it came to sermon time, the bishop said some interesting things. He wanted to thank us for always paying our diocesan assessment.

Then he went on talk about how living in a community is to be forgiving, constantly, and we all know what it means to live in a community, espeically our parish.

I was rather floored at all of it.

First, where were the meetings with the members of the parish who have started to drop away? Where is the outreach? Has the parish and diocesan heirarchy just given up and sees that group as a lost cause? In a time when the Episcopal church as a whole is losing members, should they be so cavalier about membership? The rector has yet to reach out to a single parish member that has fallen away, so I guess I can't expect the bishop to do so. Thing is, with all the people the rector has alienated and/or fired, he probably doesn't even know who is missing.

Second, we can't afford to pay our diocesan assesment this year. The church budget is very much in the red.

Third, while I agree with the discussion about forgiveness and the need to forgive, it leaves out the important other side: that those in the community must recignize that they are not perfect and in fact need forgiveness from others. The sermon was wholly one-sided in that respect.

None of us are perfect, and I've made plenty of mistakes in my life, and in this church saga. I've overstepped a couple of boundaries, pushed some people a little too far. But the other side of the church saga - the rector, R - has yet to admit to a single mistake in how he has done things in the last 15 months. He has yet to take any responsibility for the dwindling attendance. While the bishop wants me to forgive R, R doesn't even recognize that he needs any forgiveness. It was weird.

I talked with a woman afterward during coffee who is just coming to the realization that things are off, way off. I tried to be very careful in what I said to her, not to sway her one way or the other. She talked about how many people are missing, things like that. I had to be even more careful with my words when the rector's wife kept positioning herself near us (we'd move, she'd move, too). I suspect we'll we talking again soon.

I wanted to believe that I could somehow make a difference by speaking up, but I'm feeling more and more thwarted and pushed down and dismissed. It seems to me collars are doing everything they can to protect collars. It's the patriarchal structure at its strongest.

It's extremely disheartening.

Condescension, Hypocricy, Double-Standards and Single Issue Voting

The only thing worse than having a stupid president is, I think, having a president who thinks I'm stupid.

Unlike many people, I don't believe GWB is inherently stupid. He's stupid about some things, yes, but there's a brain in there somewhere. I think he's chosen to use that brain to pull more than a few things over on the American public, shrouding his very bad choices, mistakes, and shrewd, self-promoting and self-enriching strategies in a folksy demeanor, claiming, "Hey, I'm just like you!" But he's not like you or me or most of us; he's a rich frat boy run amok, using his old-boy network (and I mean that in the very worst sense) to play a game that has very real and serious consequences for the rest of us. He thinks he's better than all of us, that standards and rules and laws don't apply to him. He thinks we're stupid; he thinks with a few jokes he can get away with it.

And he has.

I would not be surprised if the following quote attributed to HL Menken is framed prominently in GWB's private office:

"No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people. People can easily be persuaded to accept the most inferior ideas or useless products. "
-H. L. Mencken, 1880–1956

Yes, America, this is what your president and his political party thinks of you.

They think they can talk down to you, and you won't notice. They think you won't notice that their buddies are getting richer by the moment while people around you are losing their jobs and their homes and they claim there's no recession. In light of that, they think they can present you with a candidate who freely admits economic theory is a weakness and it'll be fine, really. It just doesn't matter that he doesn't know the GNP from the GDP.

They think they can call themselves the "family values" party while the two halves of their presidential ticket embody the poor moral choices they wag their fingers at. Infidelity? Check! Drug abuse? Check! Unwed teen mother? Check! Questionable ethics in both business and government? Check and check! Apparently while they wag their fingers with one hand, the other hand is behind their backs, with crossies.

They think we won't notice - or worse, won't care - that they are completely hypocritical. They question the qualifications of opponents while their own candidate doesn't even meet those same qualifications, then try to claim double-standards are in play. Seriously, folks, if you put the Alaskan Hockey Mom's "qualifications" next to a man's name, they would have been laughed back to the farthest ice floes of that state. Note to party hierarchy: You might have had a shred of credibility in claiming double-standard if your female candidate had more qualifications than a male candidate. But she doesn't. And you think the American public just won't notice that.

They think they are being historic and avant-garde by even offering a female on the ticket of a major political party. Geraldine Ferraro, in 1984, had more political experience and more national political experience. They think we don't know history.

They think America is so biased and racist that we won't vote for a candidate of color just because of color, or because of perceived religious affiliation, and they will subtly promote ideas to that end; they play to irrational and unfounded fears. They think that women can't think for themselves, that we are too clouded by the effect of estrogen, and that we'll vote for a candidate just because she has some, too. They think we won't see past the ploys and the late night conversations that included, "Think we can get away with it?" They think that we'll get bogged down by words and fabricated offense and not hear the issues.

The really sad thing is, they might be right.

But, despite all the condescension, hypocrisy, and double-standards, I believe - wholly - that we are better than this. We as a country and we as a people are better than this. And we deserve better than this.

We can see through this. We can.

We can say no to the games and the bullying. We can call them on their condescension, hypocrisy, and double-standards. Call them on their racism and sexism and religious bias.

We can vote for the candidate and running mate, who, based on a set of qualifications, ideals, and background, will lead us forward. Single issue voting has no place here, and don't let anyone tell you it does. Prove them wrong.

Perhaps no one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people, but no one ever made our country and the world a better place with such underestimation, either.

Among People I Know, "Hockey Mom" is NOT a Compliment

I'm feeling political and ornery lately. This will result in some political posts, some of which will be rather partisan. If you don't like that sort of thing, consider yourself warned.

Miscommunication, Best Intentions and Lost Opportunities

I went to a meeting last night about a pilot project started just this year to address the needs of high-end learners. I had heard rumblings about this project since I went to a meeting last December of some parents who have been concerned that the needs of their kids were not being met. (I alluded to the meeting here. I was shut out of later conversations with this group because I didn't agree with the straight acceleration goal these parents were seeking at the time - and I was laid off shortly afterward and somewhat preoccupied. Also the mother of the kid in this hat incident was involved and I really have trouble dealing with her for reasons above and beyond that hat incident.)

I've had concerns about M and keeping him engaged in school and the learning process. He gets bored with school-work easily and I've worked with his (young, inexperienced and somewhat floundering) teachers the last couple of years to supplement what he is doing in school to keep him engaged in the process. As such, he's doing math several levels above his grade, and reading close to his brother's level (which is already above grade level). It's something I constantly have to keep antenna tuned to. And this is in stark contrast to C, who has had majority excellent, experienced teachers (save one) whom I have felt have addressed his needs well and kept him challenged.

For this pilot program, kids in grade three, four, and five were identified as kids that needed more distinct differentiation of instruction. The kids have been clustered in classrooms, and the teachers received training on how to address their needs within the curriculum. The kids are not pulled out or identified to the rest of the class. The vision for the program is that although a set of very high-end learners will be clustered in one class, more teachers will receive training on differentiated instruction and will be able to apply those skills in all classrooms for the kids at all learning levels. So even if your kid isn't one of the identified cluster, he or she will still get a boost as appropriate to his or her needs. That's the plan anyway. At any rate, right now there are only 14 kids total in clusters over three grades, out of about 800 students total.

M is not in the cluster. Of course I'm disappointed, but then again, I have to be realistic. As a pilot, the program was intended to grab the top 2-3% of kids - up to 8 per grade - and M is in the largest class our school system has ever seen. And although I think my kid is very smart ("He's a genius!"), if I have to question at all whether such a program is right, it's not for him right now.

As an example of the kids they are trying to identify right now: When I was in elementary school, I was in a pull-out independent study program. There were 8 in the classroom. We were all the straight-A, quick on the uptake kids. But there was one among us that was beyond what the remaining 7 of were, and obviously so. Once, when presenting our term projects to one another, this kid's project was to build a model rocket that flew higher than a certain brand of commercial model rocket. When asked how he would know whether his rocket was better, he responded, "Oh, simple trigonometry," and proceeded to write out all the equations that supported his method. THAT'S the kind of kid this pilot program is trying to identify and assist.

That said, I don't think M - and other kids - had a fair chance at evaluation. The rubric used is, unfortunately, flawed in that the relative experience (or inexperience) and understanding of the teachers that evaluated the kids cannot removed. M has had teachers the last few years who are just trying to keep their heads above water in the classroom - lots of potential, but new and inexperienced - but that experience and confidence for them limits some of their abilities to differentiate those way up and out there kids as being just that, up and out there, versus behavioral challenges in the classroom because of their boredom. Was M not looked at properly because I've done so much beyond the curriculum to keep him engaged? Did I hurt the process by being so proactive?

Then again, I don't think parents should have been involved in the identification process, either. If the teachers have a difficult time with subjectivity, the parents will have double the problem. We all think the best of our children. They are all brilliant and gifted. It's the nature of parenthood to believe that about our children But do they all belong in this pilot? No. That's a tough pill to swallow, even for me.

If you could have heard the vitriol last night, you'd have been shocked. There were parents who could hear no good in what is happening, could not fathom how it will benefit all the kids. There were parents who claimed this was the schools telling them they are bad parents for not advocating in a certain way for their kids (please check your martyr complex at the door next time). There was a guy grumbling about how we shouldn't do anything new until standardized test scores stabilize (don't get me started on that and the teaching to the tests mentality). The principal of the school, whom I like very much, was getting battered.

There have been emails flying around town - which I thankfully haven't seen (it's an advantage to not be a joiner sometimes). People were prepared to tear the program down completely. It was shameful, really.

There were musings on what this would do to the school budget (it's been funded by grants so far), and how would we justify this when it will be a long while until we have metrics to qualify the success or failure of the program? Getting the budget through already is a challenge every year.

There was this one guy I wanted to punch in the face. There were women who were just plain nasty to those they perceived as members of that parent group (right in one instance, wrong in another - and I'm glad I was out of that group at that point). There were parents just sure that these clustered kids were going go around taunting other kids with, "I'm gifted and you're not, nyah, nyah!" (Puh-leeze - I can't say for certain, but I will bet that none of the kids have been told they are one of the "annointed" as one irate mother called them.) It was a rough night.

There were also people thanking the schools for finally doing something, even if their kids weren't in the clusters. There were people pointing out that if we were talking about kids on the other end of the spectrum, there's no way parents questioning spending money on a project would be tolerated, much less allowed to go on for hours.

The schools have made two major, major errors in how they implemented this pilot program. First, they didn't say anything to the general population. It was only when someone stood up and mentioned it at a school committee meeting that they'd heard a rumor about it that the superintendent came clean to the town as a whole. It was only last Thursday that the principal called each of the cluster kids' families to let them know they were a part of the program. Yeah, you read that right.

As it happens the kids of the four main families who went to the schools last spring asking for something are in the program. But they weren't notified until Thursday, just like the other 10 kids. I know a couple of those kids. It is absolutely appropriate that they are in the program. Still, on the communication front, they really screwed up, and will have a hard time recovering from that.

The second major error was in the identification process. It is very, very flawed. They do know that, and are trying to address it. Whether or not they allow "parent nominations" of kids into the program appears to be a sticking point already. I kind of hope not. If we can make this as objective as possible while knowing that it will be difficult and a *process*, I think that's preferable. We all think our kids are geniuses, but are they all really geniuses? No.

I like to think that my approach to involvement in my kids' education - and M in particular in this case - would not change with involvement in the pilot. (I hope) I would still watch for the behavioral signs of boredom and address it as I can.

The school's intentions are good. While some may argue that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, I hope they don't back off. The pendulum in our town has swung so far to one end that we really need this small move back to the middle. I really do think it will be good for all - or most - of the kids over time. Much as we want it to be, the schools can't be all things to all kids, and they don't have bottomless budgets. They are doing the best they can, making mistakes along the way. Just like all the parents in that room.

Sigh.

Annoyed

Our schools have a very strong music program. On the arts spectrum, we are a music town and visual arts are much less strong (I've mentioned that before). Music is so promoted here that it's not unusual to see the varsity athletes dressed for the three yearly band performances.

Two years ago when C was starting fifth grade, there were many meetings about the program and its benefits and all that. The kids were encouraged to choose an instrument. The school would provide small group instruction during school hours and had partnered with an outside vendor to supply quality instruments on a rent-to-own plan (though the people at that vendor I am less impressed with - another story for another time). Excellent, wonderful, all that.

C chose French Horn, one of the harder instruments. It's been challenging, but he's done well. The small group instruction was often one-on-one as the other French Horn player in his grade was less than committed (and has since quit). At the end of last year, he was selected for green band, the more challenging of the two bands at his school. Also, his teacher wants him to move up to a double-horn, at additional cost, of course. Great, super, all that. We'll manage to absorb that additional instrument cost.

But then a couple of days ago, C brought home the information sheet about this year's band. What the music director failed to mention two years ago was that this small group instruction at school only lasts through 6th grade. Starting in 7th grade, kids are required to have outside weekly private instruction (at our own cost of course, and they aren't cheap), and the input of those outside teachers will affect grades for the class.

I went back to the materials they handed out back then (the advantages of being something of a pack-rat), and nope, no mention of this. I feel a bit snowed. They simply did not mention how costs will continue to increase. Oh, and don't forget to join the local music promoters group, and participate in all the band fundraising that is in addition to the school fundraising.

When I was growing up, we had small group instruction through 8th grade, and at the high school level was when things began to differentiate. I just assumed (I know, my mistake) it would be similar.

We'll make it happen, of course. But I'm just...annoyed. I'm feeling very nickeled and dimed right now with all the start of school year expenses. Our town is a well-off town, but not everyone in town has a mcmansion on the bay with deep pockets. There's a reason the average town income is an average.

I wish I'd at least known.

Solo

I am alone in my house for the first time since early June.

EpiPen Nation

I was so careful when the kids were small and I was introducing foods. I crossed my fingers and held my breath, hoping we would not have food allergy issues. I breathed a sigh of relief with each non-reaction. I thought we had dodged that bullet.

This summer C reported a strange feeling in his throat after eating some of our favorite steamed shrimp.

I think you know where this is going.

I had him tested a few days ago, just to be safe. Yup, he's allergic.

We're going to head off to an allergist soon for a more complete workup, and prescriptions for EpiPens have been faxed to the local pharmacy.

This should not be an onerous issue (we have shrimp only rarely), but it is a new set of issues on which to educate all of us.

Crime Spree in Suburbia!

From the local police log:

Sunday, August 24th

9:46AM T---- F--- Lane, vandalism. Motor vehicle wrapped in plastic wrap and shaving cream.


12:09PM T------ St, missing property. Twenty-one chickens missing from pen.

Thoughts on the Families of Politicians

Excuse me while I step on a soap box for a few moment.

I'm watching the current political circus with interest, in part beacuse I am the child of a politician and public servant. I grew up in a southwestern state that, at the time, was fairly small (it's grown exponentially since then), but still a microcosm of the national political stage.

From the time I can remember anything, I had it drilled into me that although I was "just" a kid, my actions and choices would be scrutinized more closely than other kids. And indeed they were. My father's position was invoked more than a few times to call attention to what, for anyone else, would have been nothing.

When, during softball tryouts in sixth grade, I managed to get a good piece of the ball with my bat but that line drive hit Mara L in her braced mouth because she wasn't paying attention, and even though it was completely unintentional, my father's position was called out. "Can you believe that judge's daughter did that?"

And that is just one minor example.

I was, whether I liked it or not, a representative of my father and his positions, and my actions were seen as reflecting his values, no matter what. Sometimes it really sucked.

As such, I was expected to behave with that in mind and act with greater care than those around me. I was not always successful, and paid the price for those mis-steps - although my mis-steps were not very severe, relatively speaking (I was too afraid/aware to risk too, too much). Never once did I benefit from my father's position. If anything, the consequences were more severe.

In the end, this was one of the component reasons why I moved across the country, away from anyone who knew (or cared) who my dad was.

"Fair" or not, that's the way it was. Although I did not ask for this role, I had it, I had to deal with it, and, by the way, those public dollars were keeping a roof over our head. Like it or not, my actions were seen as a reflection of how my parents, and in particular my father, raised me.

When my parents split up, the newspaper called. Was it fair for the local media to get involved in my parent's divorce? No. But my dad was a public servant, sitting in judgment of others, and the media was taking the role of making sure there was no abuse of the power of his role during the proceedings, making sure he was consistent.

I have to wonder why many of the current crop of politicians aren't drilling this into their children (I assumption, I admit). I'm talking about politicians on both side of the aisle, but (at this particular moment) one side in particular, and both parts of the ticket (though one part is doing a better job of keeping their crap hush-hush). Although, like me, these kids didn't ask for these roles, these lives, they have them. Fair or not, they are living in the public spotlight, as a reflection of their parents' values, and must learn to deal with it and be accountable for their actions, youthful mis-steps or otherwise.

In addition, for politicians to ask that families be left out of scrutiny? That's two-faced bullshit, and they know it. They knew full-well when they entered the fray that the family would be a part of it. They did. They need to be up-front about that. With the public AND their families.

I'm not saying no one can make mistakes. More it's that they need better guidance and understanding about how the consequences of their mistakes will have a greater impact, like it or not. All parties need to accept this, and act accordingly. I think once that happens, the families actually will be much less of an issue.

OK, done now.

Mutant Kitty

I think we have a mutant kitten.

You know how kitties are fastidiously clean? Unless there's some health issue or cleanliness of facilities issue, they can be pretty well depended upon to, you know, "go" where they are supposed to, keep themselves clean and all that. Even within the realm of their facilities, they keep things neat. Keep things covered. You know.

Our kitties do all that - mostly. One of the two seems to be missing the "cover" gene. The instinct to cover his business in the box. The kitty - and I am not sure which one - does not cover at all. Just goes and leaves - albeit in the box.

I've discovered this because occasionally when I walk through to the study it smells remarkably like, well, shit. At first I was sure the dog had had an accident somewhere and went sniffing around looking for the evidence. Honestly, I shouldn't have to look that hard as the dog is a pretty good size, and so the evidence should be pretty obvious. But no canine evidence, and it still smelled. Then I figured that the litter box was in need of attention and perhaps it was a protest outside of the box by one of the cats. So I'd go check the box to address that issue - and see the uncovered feline evidence out for all to smell. Ick.

I've never had a cat not make any effort to cover. It's amusing on one hand, annoying on another, and all around smelly. So all I can conclude is that we have a mutant kitty.

But an awfully cute mutant.

Apparently I'm Presidential Material

I'm sitting on the deck of an inn and cafe on a lovely Wednesday afternoon, eating lunch with my family. We're taking a break from visiting a great museum. As the kids chatter, I hear snippets of an interesting conversation behind me on the deck between three people. Were eavesdropping not so astoundingly impolite and uncouth, I would have listened harder. As I said, the snippets that did waft over were interesting, and I figured out quickly that two of the three were higher-ups in the local public radio station.

Almost through our lunch, I hear one of the women remark, "I'd sooner vote for that woman in the pink shirt over any of the mainstream candidates." The second woman catches my attention and says, "She's talking about you, you know."

And a fairly hilarious (to adults, not so much to kids) ten minutes ensued of friendly verbal volleys. Jokes were made about not having inhaled anything but salad, pretend coughs of shock, snarky comments about a certain candidate's wife (see here), observations about wanting power, and so on, with smatterings of truths about or political system tossed in for good measure.

Walking off the deck and back to the museum, two of the three were on their way, but the third, a friendly older gentleman, got to talking with us. He told us the names of one of the women, who happened to be the station manager for the radio station and had led the station from backwoods ho-hum to national award-winning excitement. He obviously had high respect for her.

Finally, we were all on our way, grins all around. Okay, maybe not on the kids.

When we arrived home this week, I looked up the radio station and made a small contribution to it. I also included a shout out to the two women in the comments section of the donation page that included the joke, "Counting on your support in 2012!"

Yesterday I received emails back from both women. One, the station manager, has promised to be my campaign manager. :-D

I'll let you all know when I file exploratory committee papers. (Snort!)

A Note to Americans Traveling Abroad

Whether you are 2 miles, 20 miles, 200 miles or 2000 miles from the US border, don't expect the locals to be chummy and warm when you wear shirts that read, "America: Better than all the Rest!" or similar "patriotic" slogans.

Just sayin'.

No Good Vacation Goes Unpunished

As a friend of blaugustine's likes to say.

Some punishment is work-related. That I can handle.

Some punishment is family-related.

I just spoke with my sister for the first time since returning home. Trying to wrap my head around some family events.

And again I am reminded that I live 3000 miles away from them for a reason.

Sigh.

Vacation by Numbers

42.70188171657805, -73.11422824859619

42.61229612450321, -75.00263214111328

44.34195929184658, -76.05036735534668

(including 44.32900573504008, -76.16503715515137
44.29399840866365, -76.15224838256836
44.23794325434499, -76.0898494720459
44.344414619784324, -75.92265129089355
44.365710274141115, -75.95423698425293)

45.426407377512774, -75.70060729980469

46.42933871009928, -74.41520690917969
(including 46.209418049302556, -74.58017349243164)

45.5014442390623, -73.57659816741943

And finally, 44.352332351790416, -72.73893356323242

Yes, I am a geek.

If You Find Yourself in Montreal Looking for a Restaurant...

...try this place.

Yum.

Five Rings

I don't know about you, but I get so anxious watching some of these competitions taking place half the world away.

Did Someone Say Darwin?

We're a little frantic trying to pull ourselves together for vacation. This means my husband and I are running at a serious pace while trying to keep the kids in order. Not succeeding, it appears.

Three incredibly intelligent things my children (namely my boys) have done in the last 48 hours:

• Leaning far out a window on the second floor of our house, over the driveway (which, given the garage is under the house means they were three levels up), trying to play catch with a friend in the driveway with a baseball.

• C trying M's hands behind his back with rope on the beach, and pushing him face down into the sand. ("But he told me to!")

• C and M playing "frisbee" with a plastic dinner plate, thus resulting in a plate to M's face - and a cut straight across the bridge of his nose.

Pass the wine, please.

Rhinoplasty

The other day I looked at all the statistics that come with the visit counter I've attached to this blog. It was eye-opening and slightly amusing.

Among the searches that brought people here over the last month:

• nose ultrasensitivity
• tongue tied small nose
• small nose
• hit in the nose now crooked
• I have a really small nose
• good looking people with crooked noses
• does everybody have a crooked nose
• nose crooked right
• taking pictures of a crooked nose
• small chin and crooked nose
• please give me idea for getting nose in correct direction
• fix crooked nose
• I want a bigger nose than a small nose
• crooked nose after breaking it
• crooked nose at birth
• my nose is a little crooked
• why is my son's nose growing crooked
• inside nose splitting
• my 9 yr old got hit in the nose and it's crooked
• crooked girl nose p*rn
• I am disgusted by my husband's affair
• small crooked peppers
• crooked nose spell
• crooked nose hot
• dog crooked nose
• happy pitcher
• deborah harry nose
• what is crooked bumper
• crooked nose can't breath good
• open face blueberry pie
• photos of crooked noses
• a nose that looks like a bum
• meaning of crooked nose
• catching chipmunks
• new hair style for crooked nose
• crooked nose in ultrasound
• leaving christian science
• fractured first metatarsal photo
• resent my husband's job
• what is happening to my crooked squash
• my nose aches
• poop nose
• crooked noses corrected
• how do you know if you have a crooked nose
• my transition to smaller nose
• small crooked nose (yes, my exact blog name)
  
• costochondritis

Huh.

I mean, I knew people would be concerned with the appearances of noses, but I didn't really consider until now search terms and all that. At any rate, interesting.

Also, the stat counter notes location of persons visiting. Hello to:

• Canada
• Ireland
• Slovenia
• UK
• Phillipines
• India
• Morocco
• Australia
• Sweden
• Norway
• Bahamas
• Germany
• Poland

Very interesting indeed.

So that prompts me to say...to all of you who find this place through a search engine: Welcome!

Small Annoyances

One of my favorite guilty pleasures is Project Runway. The bizarre challenges, the fabulous designs, the even more fabulous personalities, the snark - I love all of it.

This summer, Project Runway is on at 9PM. It used to be 10PM. Try as I might, I just can't get the house settled to sit and watch at 9PM. S is just to bed at that time, and I am trying to corral the boys. And the evening's episode isn't repeated until midnight. Sadly, I cannot stay up that late. Work and all.

It also used to be that the previous week's episode aired just before the new episode. Not anymore. I have no idea how I am going to catch up.

Not a big deal, especially the the grand scheme of things, but an annoyance.

Sigh.

Sunset

We saw it

Pantheist Mom and another friend and our husbands and kids and my nephew. We all saw it.

The last at bat in our team's uniform of a certain tantrum-prone future Hall of Famer. There were many, many camera flashes. I hoped he would swing hard and go out on a high note. Maybe he tried, maybe he didn't. He flied out to center.

I can't say I'm sad. As great a bat as he swings, he crossed that invisible line this year from the the light to the dark. He became a drain on the team's psyche as the antics increased. Heck, my four year old behaves more maturely that he has.

We knew they were trying hard to trade him. On games like last night's, typically he would have been done in the 8th or 9th, the outfield shuffled. But there he was in the top of the 9th, out there in front of the wall. One last time.

And it was time.

Good luck, Manny. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

But, OH! The new guy! I always liked Canada. Mr. Bay, we are ready to embrace you and teach you what it means to be loved by an entire nation. It's like nothing you have ever known before.

Get ready, because we are...

UPDATE, THE NEXT MORNING: S has always had a soft spot for Manny. She has called him, "My hero!" and gets excited when he is up to bat. This morning C and I carefully told S about Manny being traded. She cried. Hard.

About 20 minutes later, after a donut, S said, "Mommy, Manny can still be my hero."

Yes, S, I guess he can.

Sparklers

Saturday evening was one of those times at the beach that I am fairly certain my kids will remember.



Friends whom we have not seen in years came down to have dinner on the beach with us. That was great. At the same time, there was a little "reunion" of kids from S's preschool organized by a really fun mom. We parked near the reunion area so the kids S could see her friends while we saw our friends.



Later in the evening, our friends departed, but the preschool parents were hard-core. Several of us built fires (my husband recently acquired a very large wok that we use as our firepit) and we stayed until after 9PM chatting while the kids played with sparklers and danced to whatever music came on the radio. (There were also some fireworks, but the young yahoo assistant harbormaster shut that down. Don't think the rest of the town hasn't noticed the frequency with which he sets off fireworks. Drunk with power, that one.)

We let the boys put long sticks into our fire until the tips glowed, then they danced the sticks through the air until the ends burned out.



For all the crappy commuting and annoying small-town politics (and young yahoo assistant harbormasters drunk with power), this is why we live here. We're very lucky.

Twist and Shout

A bit over an hour ago, a tornado warning was issued for my county.

Such a warning is rare. We don't live in tornado alley - far from it. But we have been in a strange weather pattern for the last week or so. This is the second tornado warning I can remember here. The last one was about five years ago and the suspect cell was about 1/2 mile from us. I was in one tornado warning when we lived in the south - that whole day is a story from another time.

My husband called me to let me know the warning had been issued. I'd just dropped C at sailing and didn't have the radio on. My husband is supposed to be sailing tonight, too, but I bet they are calling it off. A water spout was spotted about an hour away, and the line was headed straight for us. The news estimated it would reach us in 40 minutes.

After a frantic half hour of getting some things to the basement while following the storm on the news station, the storm weakened enough for the warning to be canceled. Meanwhile a neighbor whose son was also at sailing offered to go get them. Yes, please. And thank you. I'd already called down to the maritime school to verify that the kids were indeed off the water.

Last text message I sent to my husband was "Tornado warning canceled. Phew. Just flash flood and severe thunderstorm warnings now. Bring wine."

The thunderstorm cell is right over my town right now. I can hear the crackle of lightening intermingled with booms of thunder around my house. The rain is torrential. Hail possible.

There will be trees down. I hope we keep power. I think it's safe to assume the boys' summer league baseball games are canceled.

Even as I write this, the storm is easing. The sky is even lightening a little.

How to Cheer a Girl Up

Go see Mamma Mia! Loads of fun. You can't help but smile. Definitely going to get that on DVD for exercising.

Also, uploaded about 50 new images to Flickr. Click image over there on the left to see them all.

Speaking Up is Hard to Do

I went to church on Sunday morning for the first time since the first of June. I went because I knew that the rector, R, would not be there. We had a visiting priest – a benign older guy I’ve met before. He’s retired from parish work and now travels around the area doing supply work like this. His wife is also ordained and she’ll lead the service next week.

I realize I miss it. But what do I miss? I think I miss something that no longer exists. Things related to issues at the church continue to muddle along. Not particularly positively from my point of view.

Several weeks ago, I sent an email to the bishop. I didn’t tell him what my issues were, just that we needed help down here, and to listen to those others who have contacted him, that they are not alone in their concerns. Received a dismissive email back, as though he hadn’t really read my email. Lovely.

I decided to hold back pledges for a while. For a few weeks I mulled designating them to a specific fund, but I think I need to make a bigger statement. I’ll probably send the pledge amount to the diocese for a while, or to the food pantry or another group.

A couple weeks ago there was a women only goodbye party for the Christian Ed director. The issues with the rector were like the elephant in the room that no one was talking about. That was hard. In other ways, it was enlightening. I’d say the majority of women are not thrilled with how things are going (although the hostess is the only supporter I know), but convincing people to speak up is difficult. It’s easier to walk away, or actively ignore the issues. After all, we don’t go to church to be negative. We go looking for the positive. To speak up negatively about church related subjects feels somehow wrong. At any rate, I know the women I saw there were women I hadn’t seen in church in quite a while.

I saw a woman who was on the search committee at another gathering about a week later. (Coincidentally, this was the woman who ran for school committee this year and lost.) She tried to convince me that the Christian Ed director leaving as she did was planned “all along” and I had “absolutely no reason” to be upset or surprised. Um, no. If she had been in church more than one or two times since Christmas she might know better – or even just talked to the Christian Ed director. While on the search committee, this woman was the biggest champion for R getting the job, so in some ways, she’s trying to save face. I think she would do better to look inward and examine why she has been avoiding church for months now. Unlikely.

The junior warden of the church called. He said he heard I had spoken with R (from R). I told him the suggestions I made to R. CC acted like he was surprised to hear I had made suggestions, but that he thought they were good ones. Sounds like R dismissed the suggestions when I made them. Perhaps they will carry more weight if they come from CC. More on that in a moment.

CC said the bishop came down for a meeting with R, and also attended by himself and a couple others, and that the result was that things seemed to be okay, but they’d keep in contact. Excuse me? That floored me.

CC also said attendance numbers weren’t down all that much – only 11% at the 10AM service. I found this hard to believe and asked for details on the numbers. The numbers he has have no granularity; it’s everyone in the building during service times. I countered that such a number is skewed: he needs to be able to look at pew numbers vs. Sunday school numbers vs. choir numbers and so on. The numbers in choir and Sunday school teachers have remained relatively stable because we make commitments on a yearly basis to the choir director and/or Christian Ed director. I suspect these numbers will be down more in September (at the moment I know no one willing to commit to teach this coming year – even though the job description on the Web for the Christian Ed position declares a “solid” base of volunteers), and we need be able to see what is happening where. C said he’d bring that suggestion to the vestry meeting last week, but I know for a fact he did not. Still there’s plenty –and I mean plenty - of space in the pews.

About ten days ago, the church newsletter came out. The opening letter from the rector was about change versus growth. How people say they want change, but really need to look inward and grow personally.

Well, now.

I tried to think on that outside the context of what I know is happening. It was hard. Yes, looking inward and growing is a good thing, preferable to change for the sake of change. But…

I was not the only one who read this and felt that, once again, he is not taking any responsibility for what is happening. That he thinks it is not him who needs to a change, but us who need to grow.

(My husband, of course, did an excellent job of skewering that message while we were preparing for my sister’s arrival. I said we needed to change the sheets on the guest bed and he responded asking whether we really needed to change them, or should we look inward to grow them instead. Har, har, har.)

Just a few days ago we received a postcard mailing from the church reminding us to keep pledges up-to-date during the summer months. The most interesting thing to me was the label. It was addressed to my husband only. For the entire time we have been at the church, every single mailing has come to my name and his name last name. For something to come to just my husband was odd, particularly because he’s been three times in the last year, and I’m the one involved. I am the one who manages household bills and makes the decision about how much we pledge. I made a couple of phone calls. There were more than a few perturbed women out there in town. Turns out all the mailings went to the men only.

Let me repeat that.

Men only.

I think we have a sexism issue on our hands. (Amid everything else.) I’m not trying to be alarmist here or create more trouble where there is none. A pattern is emerging. Intentional or not.

I tried to deny it myself. I don’t want this to be an issue on top of everything. I didn’t really even occur to me until I read this piece about women and the church. Rather women AS the church. The article is about the greater church, but well worth considering on a local level.

Our church leadership may be mostly male, but women are the core. We’re the ones who typically drive taking the kids to church, being a part of the community. We teach Sunday school, keep the prayer chain going, feed one another, literally and figuratively, run all but one of the volunteer and outreach efforts. Yet our voices are not heard when there is a problem.

The women of our church are, very clearly to me, being dismissed. It’s been all women who have spoken up so far. Suggestions we make are overlooked. I will bet that if – IF- the (male) junior warden makes the same suggestions I made to R, they will be acted upon. Because they come from a man more than anything. The meeting between the bishop and the rector and the others was all men, and, hey, apparently things are fine. And when it comes to pledges, talk to the man of the house because, clearly, women have no decision making power there.

So back to church on Sunday. After the service, feeling like I have nothing to lose, I approached CC, the junior warden. I let him know that 1) was there because R was not, 2) the message in the newsletter was extremely telling, and 3) if he continued to allow church leadership to marginalize the women of the church, even in the most seemingly benign ways such as omitting women’s names from mailings, he would be able to watch the church totally disintegrate beyond repair.

Whether or not he heard me, I said it. I’m glad I did. Ironically, it was immediately after a sermon about hearing.

Weather

Sometimes the weather one direction is vastly different from weather in the other direction.

About ten days ago, dinner on the beach looked like this:



Click to enlarge.

Deep Breaths, Fourth of July, Garden, Kittens

My sister, her husband, and their youngest son are visiting. They are staying with us.

As I said to a friend on Saturday night, I prefer to have this side of the continent to myself. For scrawny woman with an eating disorder, she sure takes up a lot of space and requires an immense amount of energy.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

I had fun taking photos of fireworks on Friday night.



I had even more fun when I took these photos on Saturday at the town beach party and bonfire. These photos have not been through any manipulation software - it's just what came out. Pretty funky, huh?



S and her daddy walk toward the bonfire.



Garden is finally blooming. The hydrangeas are really late, though. I have no idea why.



The kittens continue to be lots of fun.



When my sister is gone, I get a good nap and a morning at the beach, I hope to be more articulate.

A**holes in America

So I popped over to the local big box home improvement store at lunch today to try to find a specific florescent light bulb for the fan/light in the bathroom. Just as I exited my car, a stumbled ever so slightly as I checked to be sure that yes, I had my specifications and my keys and my phone. It wasn’t even enough of a stumble to make me think, “Gosh, I hope no one was looking!” Thirty seconds later, I barely remembered it.

As I walked through the big orange doors, a man says to me, “Have a nice trip?”

I looked at him quizzically.

He said it again, “Have a nice trip?”

I was just about to say that he must have me confused with someone else when he added, “I saw you trip in the parking lot.” Then he chuckled and walked away.

I was stunned. My jaw was open a little as I tried to remember. Then, oh, yeah, I guess I did trip a little.

But then my mind quickly went to this thought: A**hole.

I went to find my lightbulb, but kept an eye out lest that beautiful specimen of humanity end up in my aisle.

I still can’t really believe it. It’s almost surreal. That an adult (notice I didn’t say grown-up) would go out of his way to say something like that to a complete stranger is beyond me.

I'll bet he was a bully in high school.

Ick.

It's good to hear your voice, you know it's been so long

There’s this music venue a couple of towns north of us smack in the middle of a residential neighborhood. It’s open in the summer only and it’s literally a tent, albeit a highly specialized kind of tent. The stage rotates. There is a sister venue of similar type about 40 miles from here.

Over the 20 years or so that I’ve lived in New England, I’ve been amused at the kinds of acts that play there. It always seemed to be “old people” music. I know that comment is full of ageism, but we’re talking crooners like my dad used to enjoy back in the day. “The day” being the 40s and 50s. So, you know, old people’s music. It was a running joke between my husband and myself. An act that would, sooner or later, play at the venue, was one to look down upon.

Over the last few years, the acts coming to the venue have been more and more interesting and/or amusing. There are still the crooner types, and now there are several tribute bands on the schedule, and some other “interesting” revues (Bowzer’s Original Doo-Wop Party). There are some kids programs, some comedians (we saw Lewis Black there, and some artists that you would be surprised to learn are still touring (Kenny Rogers). But there also are, occasionally, some decent acts. We saw Bruce Hornsby there a few years ago. The small setting made it a lot of fun. In terms of it being an “old person” place, it seems I am being put in my place. Or getting old. Or both.

Anyway, there are sill some acts that you just do not expect to see on the schedule, and we went to see one of those acts last Saturday night. We saw Blondie.

Yes, Blondie. Debbie Harry and Chris Stein and Clem Burke, and some new support musicians. No Jimmy Destri, no Gary Valentine. It’s been 30 years since Parallel Lines was released, and this was an anniversary tour.

(I never saw Blondie in their heyday. My hometown was not exactly a hot stop of cutting edge music, thought I did see everything I could that did come through. I found my old pile of concert tickets recently. I’ll have to write about them sometime.)

When I told our sitter where we were going, she was a little incredulous, both at the fact that they were still performing in one way or another, and where they were playing. We joked about how she also laughed at acts scheduled at this venue. Thing is, she’s young. She can still laugh.

When we drove up and parked, we were a little amused at the demographic. No, a lot amused. There were couples milling about that you would otherwise imagine by their appearances as garden club member, golf playing, grandparent retirees. Which they also may be. You never – never! – would have imagined some of these people to be punk aficionados back in the day. The earrings that matched the shirt in an easy care fabric would have been laughed down the street had they shown up at CBGBs! There were, of course, younger fans, and older fans that looked a little more hip. We were on the younger side of the crowd.

As we sat on the a bench outside the tent, having a glass of wine, we cracked many jokes. For example, how this crowd might be a good test market for cocktails made with nutritional beverages. Tequila shots with an Ensure chaser, or a “Booster” or “Resource Breezer” blender drinks with umbrellas. We joked about how, thirty years ago, we’re sure Debbie Harry never envisioned that people attending her concerts would look into their Talbots and Ann Taylor-filled closets for something to wear, much less intentionally shop there in anticipation (Guilty! I bought a blouse on sale there on Thursday evening with the concert in mind.)

Once inside the tent, we dutifully listened to the opening act (not bad), though again speculated on how they landed the gig. Was a member of the opening band an offspring of the main act (that’s happening a fair bit these days)? Were these musicians even born when Blondie first played? We later learned the answers were no (Clem Burke, however, had helped produce a recording of theirs) and yes (but not all, and not by much).

When it was time for the main event, it was lots of fun. The crowd, though not a sell-out, was really into it, even the garden-club grandparent retirees. Ms. Matching Earrings was rocking out.

Debbie Harry has still got it. At 63, that is no small feat. Yes, Debbie Harry is 63. She may look like a slightly lumpy older woman walking down the ramp to the stage, but she’s clearly a real woman and strong as ever. She still has stage presence. Her voice is just as strong and she can deliver a lyric (others around her age are losing their voices, even though they still record – think Carly Simon, who is only six days older than Debbie Harry). I could do worse than look like Debbie Harry when I’m 63, really. She looked like she was having a lot of fun.

Chris Stein was his usual quiet self, same look on his face, concentrating, doing his thing. Clem Burke has the arena-rock drummer moves, which is amusing in a band with Blondie’s edge. Spinning his drum sticks up in the air in the relatively small tent doesn’t have quite the same impact as in the larger venues.

We had a lot of fun. I’m glad we went. I was surprised how many lyrics I could remember.

Oh, and another benefit to the older crowd? Less rowdy behavior in the parking lot after the show, and a relatively orderly and quick departure from the parking lot. Back in the day, Blondie never would have imagined that, either.

Everyone is a Critic

C has been a real crab lately - angry and nasty and just really unpleasant. It's been stressful and hurtful and exhausting. I don't quite know what to do, but I'm doing my best to feel my way through it. It's hard.

My nephew has informed me that I'm much too hard on him, hold the kids to much too high a standard in general, am too strict, and my kids are going to hate me, and so on.

Lovely.

Just Wait a Minute

Walking outside right now, you would never imagine that a week ago we were in the midst of a heat wave. There is at least a 35 degree difference.

A week ago, I had all the fans going in the house. Last night I almost dug out the down comforter. Even Saturday was quite warm. I spent a couple hours in the garden weeding and manged to burn my shoulders. Not so thorough with the sunscreen as I thought.

That old joke is so true: If you don't like the weather, just wait a minute. It will change.

Time for some (hot) tea.