http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,360302,00.html
Harvey Korman has died.
For those of you who are Blazing Saddles fans ("Somebody needs to go back and get a sh*tload of dimes."), Korman played Hedley Lamar.
He also was the voice of the Great Gazoo on The Flintstones. (Yes, really!)
Of course, Carol Burnett is understandably upset at Korman's death. Korman was a regular on The Carol Burnett Show.
But you also know why Burnett is upset, don't you? As you go along in life, more people die around you. And the close friends and colleagues that you have start dropping, too. That means you're next ... or near next...
It's the same concept as having kids. They're here to replace us!
It's not the pace of life that concerns me. It's the sudden stop at the end. - Unknown
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Sex and the City
You've probably heard all the frenzy by now about the Sex and the City movie.
I admit, when I first heard about this show, I couldn't believe that it would be so popular.
Then I had surgery on my leg in 2005 and I was laid up for a bit.
I became hooked on the show.
My conservative friends were mortified. How could you watch that?
To appreciate the show, you have to watch the evolution of the characters. You have to become involved with Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha.
Undoubtedly, they are human beings trying to be happy. That is the most simple connection to the hearts of viewers. Sex, of course, is in the title, so that gets the most attention. Marketing, after all, is everything.
But you watch the women and (much to the horror of my conservative friends) you find a show that is pro-family.
Yes, I said it.
Pro-family and, Lord help us, pro-life.
Miranda gets pregnant, but Miranda doesn't go through with an abortion. I can tell you that I have friends in my life who have had abortions.
These women exist, whether or not some people want to admit to it.
In Miranda's case, Brady the baby turns her life around. The hard-charging attorney finds the soft side of life, the love of a baby and the father, Steve.
The most sexually active character, Samantha, ultimately finds love in an unlikely place during her battle with breast cancer.
I have a friend like that, too.
Carrie is flaky, I admit that. But you see the doubts and the insecurities. You see the complexities. Then there are the battles of Park Avenue Socialite Charlotte who wants nothing more than to have a baby. She has to adopt.
The show traces the lives of four women and brings in the men around them, showing men also in a very positive light, generally speaking.
They're all complex characters trying to figure out life and helping each other through. I wouldn't let my young daughters or nieces watch it, but for an adult program, it deserves the accolades it receives.
I admit, when I first heard about this show, I couldn't believe that it would be so popular.
Then I had surgery on my leg in 2005 and I was laid up for a bit.
I became hooked on the show.
My conservative friends were mortified. How could you watch that?
To appreciate the show, you have to watch the evolution of the characters. You have to become involved with Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha.
Undoubtedly, they are human beings trying to be happy. That is the most simple connection to the hearts of viewers. Sex, of course, is in the title, so that gets the most attention. Marketing, after all, is everything.
But you watch the women and (much to the horror of my conservative friends) you find a show that is pro-family.
Yes, I said it.
Pro-family and, Lord help us, pro-life.
Miranda gets pregnant, but Miranda doesn't go through with an abortion. I can tell you that I have friends in my life who have had abortions.
These women exist, whether or not some people want to admit to it.
In Miranda's case, Brady the baby turns her life around. The hard-charging attorney finds the soft side of life, the love of a baby and the father, Steve.
The most sexually active character, Samantha, ultimately finds love in an unlikely place during her battle with breast cancer.
I have a friend like that, too.
Carrie is flaky, I admit that. But you see the doubts and the insecurities. You see the complexities. Then there are the battles of Park Avenue Socialite Charlotte who wants nothing more than to have a baby. She has to adopt.
The show traces the lives of four women and brings in the men around them, showing men also in a very positive light, generally speaking.
They're all complex characters trying to figure out life and helping each other through. I wouldn't let my young daughters or nieces watch it, but for an adult program, it deserves the accolades it receives.
Quote of the Day
"One ought to, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
For the Love of Language
After poring over letters upon letters from esteemed graduate students who have been awarded prestigious fellowships, I cannot believe the improper grammar and punctuation and all-around bad letter writing that comes from their pens.
Or should I write, "After pouring over letters upon letters from esteemed graduate students that have been awarded prestigious fellowships, I cannot believe the improper grammer and puncuation and all-around bad letter righting that comes from there pens."
I can't believe I let that into print, but I have to let it serve as an example. Writing and grammar is everything. It's presentation. It's communication. It's organization.
It's crucial to getting by in the world, whether one wants to believe it or not.
Take, for example, the line, "Eats, shoots and leaves."
In that structure with the comma placement, how would you identify "shoots and leaves?"
What part of speech does each represent?
Now, what about this structure, "Eats shoots and leaves."
What part of speech does each represent now?
It is the power of a comma, the placement of a tiny mark of punctuation that changes the meaning oh-so-much. It is the title of a great book, "Eats Shoots & Leaves" by British author Lynne Truss, which I highly recommend.
http://eatsshootsandleaves.com/
I fear we're getting lazy with our command of the English language. I see it in the e-mails from my younger friends and relatives. I was reminded of it this week several times when I was editing material for the Graduate College and when one of my co-workers came to me for a brief lesson on singular possessive and plural possessive.
And there again, when I learned that businesses are spending billions to teach employees how to write. What is happening in our primary education system when people aren't graduating with the basic ability to communicate in writing?
Language is the foundation of human interaction and command of it is one of the most fundamental skills for human advancement and development. If only we placed as much emphasis on this skill as we do on other skills, our societies would be so much better off.
Or should I write, "After pouring over letters upon letters from esteemed graduate students that have been awarded prestigious fellowships, I cannot believe the improper grammer and puncuation and all-around bad letter righting that comes from there pens."
I can't believe I let that into print, but I have to let it serve as an example. Writing and grammar is everything. It's presentation. It's communication. It's organization.
It's crucial to getting by in the world, whether one wants to believe it or not.
Take, for example, the line, "Eats, shoots and leaves."
In that structure with the comma placement, how would you identify "shoots and leaves?"
What part of speech does each represent?
Now, what about this structure, "Eats shoots and leaves."
What part of speech does each represent now?
It is the power of a comma, the placement of a tiny mark of punctuation that changes the meaning oh-so-much. It is the title of a great book, "Eats Shoots & Leaves" by British author Lynne Truss, which I highly recommend.
http://eatsshootsandleaves.com/
I fear we're getting lazy with our command of the English language. I see it in the e-mails from my younger friends and relatives. I was reminded of it this week several times when I was editing material for the Graduate College and when one of my co-workers came to me for a brief lesson on singular possessive and plural possessive.
And there again, when I learned that businesses are spending billions to teach employees how to write. What is happening in our primary education system when people aren't graduating with the basic ability to communicate in writing?
Language is the foundation of human interaction and command of it is one of the most fundamental skills for human advancement and development. If only we placed as much emphasis on this skill as we do on other skills, our societies would be so much better off.
The Newest Family Member
It's Abigail the Min-Pin!
She's posing here with my mother in law Margaret.
To appreciate the scale of Abigail's impact, you have to know that Dante doesn't like small dogs. As a matter of fact, Dante has a very volatile relationship with min-pins especially.
And his mother went and bought one, so now Dante has a new family member to get used to. Hopefully, she won't bite his ankles.
We all leave together on vacation to Colorado in a few weeks, and Abigail is joining us.
Karma for Stone?
http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=080529114629.g5r494wg&show_article=1
No, but dollar signs will make a high-profile celebrity change her mind about the opinions she espoused about karma and China and its treatment of Tibetans.
Remember, money is the root of all evil. Send $9.95 for more information.
No, but dollar signs will make a high-profile celebrity change her mind about the opinions she espoused about karma and China and its treatment of Tibetans.
Remember, money is the root of all evil. Send $9.95 for more information.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
The Fitness Challenge
I've done it.
I've gone on a diet.
Not one of those crazy South Beach diets where I have to give up everything but egg whites.
No, silly.
But I have (gulp) given up iced soy chai. And pizza. And junk food in general.
Here's why: Perhaps it was the impact of my mom's death, but I have gained some pounds. I still exercised, of course, because exercise is always part of my life.
But I've gained. Let's just say I'm over the 150-pound mark. Because I've been eating. I've been eating whatever comforts me. It's pizza, it's burgers, it's the dee-li-cious Southern food that my Southern friends can cook, like chicken fried steak. And fried okra. And Mexican lasagna. And seven-layer dip. And ribs, luscious barbequed ribs that are so tender and juicy the meat slides off the bone. Fries covered in cheese and onions and decadent eight-layer chocolate cake with nectar from Heaven.
The tipping point came at the mall last Saturday, as I walked through one of my favorite stores and I realized that I was shopping for pants because my old pants no longer fit.
I had a fit, no pun intended. I blasted out to poor, unsuspecting Dante, "Fat people have a right to shop, too."
And I disappeared into another store.
Nothing fit in my usual size. And I wasn't going to go up an entire size.
So I started working out with a trainer to lose some of the weight. And I'm on a restricted diet. I admit, I'm at the gym most days of the week, but I avoid certain equipment. I avoid the arm machines and the one where it lifted me, higher, higher, higher ... uh, I'm not supposed to go that high...I was stuck.
I had flashbacks of my time on the treadmill in a hotel gym in Chicago. The hotel gym was on the 12th floor of the hotel, and the lovely hotel that it was had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the lovely city.
I fell off the treadmill.
Actually, truth be told, it spit me off. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I don't have a good relationship with machinery.
A stationary bike is easy. Elliptical, a breeze. I can do those. Anything more complex and I'm in trouble.
Now, I'm on a six-week mission to tighten my abs and lose the weight with a supervisor, who can yell, "Hey, you're not supposed to do that with the equipment."
We'll see where this gets me.
I've gone on a diet.
Not one of those crazy South Beach diets where I have to give up everything but egg whites.
No, silly.
But I have (gulp) given up iced soy chai. And pizza. And junk food in general.
Here's why: Perhaps it was the impact of my mom's death, but I have gained some pounds. I still exercised, of course, because exercise is always part of my life.
But I've gained. Let's just say I'm over the 150-pound mark. Because I've been eating. I've been eating whatever comforts me. It's pizza, it's burgers, it's the dee-li-cious Southern food that my Southern friends can cook, like chicken fried steak. And fried okra. And Mexican lasagna. And seven-layer dip. And ribs, luscious barbequed ribs that are so tender and juicy the meat slides off the bone. Fries covered in cheese and onions and decadent eight-layer chocolate cake with nectar from Heaven.
The tipping point came at the mall last Saturday, as I walked through one of my favorite stores and I realized that I was shopping for pants because my old pants no longer fit.
I had a fit, no pun intended. I blasted out to poor, unsuspecting Dante, "Fat people have a right to shop, too."
And I disappeared into another store.
Nothing fit in my usual size. And I wasn't going to go up an entire size.
So I started working out with a trainer to lose some of the weight. And I'm on a restricted diet. I admit, I'm at the gym most days of the week, but I avoid certain equipment. I avoid the arm machines and the one where it lifted me, higher, higher, higher ... uh, I'm not supposed to go that high...I was stuck.
I had flashbacks of my time on the treadmill in a hotel gym in Chicago. The hotel gym was on the 12th floor of the hotel, and the lovely hotel that it was had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the lovely city.
I fell off the treadmill.
Actually, truth be told, it spit me off. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I don't have a good relationship with machinery.
A stationary bike is easy. Elliptical, a breeze. I can do those. Anything more complex and I'm in trouble.
Now, I'm on a six-week mission to tighten my abs and lose the weight with a supervisor, who can yell, "Hey, you're not supposed to do that with the equipment."
We'll see where this gets me.
To Make You Think
1. What is the largest lake in North America?
2. Who is William Rehnquist?
3. What state has the largest population of Native Americans?
4. What is the world's most heavily defended border?
If you can answer most of these questions, you are that much further ahead than a large percentage of United States citizens under the age of 30, according to a recent article in Newsweek. Is this generation the dumbest generation? We hope not.
2. Who is William Rehnquist?
3. What state has the largest population of Native Americans?
4. What is the world's most heavily defended border?
If you can answer most of these questions, you are that much further ahead than a large percentage of United States citizens under the age of 30, according to a recent article in Newsweek. Is this generation the dumbest generation? We hope not.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The Special Day of May 27
My father was born on this day in 1923. Isn't that weird? If my father was alive, he would be 85 today.
Mae Fulkerson has a birthday today. If I publish her age, she'll kill me.
Nate Hock turns 2 years old today. Nate, dear, we love you and we hope you're having an OK time getting used to having a baby sister.
Happy Birthday, ya'll.
Mae Fulkerson has a birthday today. If I publish her age, she'll kill me.
Nate Hock turns 2 years old today. Nate, dear, we love you and we hope you're having an OK time getting used to having a baby sister.
Happy Birthday, ya'll.
Cleveland and the Subprime Mess
http://www.newsweek.com/id/138503
At heart, I will always be a Buckeye. It kills me to watch the impact to my home state from the subprime mess, especially when the state is not doing well economically. This is an interesting story from Newsweek that focuses on Slavic Village in Cleveland and the person who allegedly contributed to the fallout there.
Pay attention to some of the numbers in the story, such as the house that was once priced at $14,000 and then sold for $84,000.
Also, if you're further interested in looking more into the subprime mess, NPR ran a segment this morning, May 27, in which it interviewed an auditor who was involved in watching her supervisors approve loans that should not have been approved.
At heart, I will always be a Buckeye. It kills me to watch the impact to my home state from the subprime mess, especially when the state is not doing well economically. This is an interesting story from Newsweek that focuses on Slavic Village in Cleveland and the person who allegedly contributed to the fallout there.
Pay attention to some of the numbers in the story, such as the house that was once priced at $14,000 and then sold for $84,000.
Also, if you're further interested in looking more into the subprime mess, NPR ran a segment this morning, May 27, in which it interviewed an auditor who was involved in watching her supervisors approve loans that should not have been approved.
Garbage Art
A former lawyer named Chris Jordan is making headlines because he left his profession to start taking pictures of garbage to show the impact of human activity and the garbage it creates.
I can appreciate Jordan's passion and wanting to effect change; maybe this is a way to get people to pay attention.
But I've always said, "Start with your own corner of the world." Recycle your plastic, people. Having lived in the plastics industry for seven years, I'm telling you, there is no better way to help the environment than to make sure your plastic bags and beverage bottles get recycled. And companies in the plastics industry that use recycled material do need the feedstocks.
This takes a little bit of time and effort, but it's worth it. I'm now to the point where it turns my stomach to even think about throwing a plastic bottle into a trash can. I'm proud to say that Dante has been doing his part, too.
In our neighborhood in Edmond, Okla., we do have curbside recycling, so it's a bit easier for us to set aside our bottles (glass, plastic); magazines and newspapers are recycled; anything that comes out of our house that can be recycled is.
When I was living in Parma, Ohio, the community did not have curbside recycling, but we handled this in several ways: Dante's parents (who lived upstairs from me) saved their plastic shopping bags and gave them to me and I in turn took them back to the grocery store; plastic bottles were recycled in several ways, first by a co-worker at Plastics News who collected the bottles; but other methods included utilizing local churches that have recycling bins and collection sites.
I'm including the link here to a segment about Chris Jordan that ran on Rachael Ray's show. It shouldn't take this to get any of us to pay attention.
http://www.rachaelrayshow.com/show/segments/view/chris-jordan/
I can appreciate Jordan's passion and wanting to effect change; maybe this is a way to get people to pay attention.
But I've always said, "Start with your own corner of the world." Recycle your plastic, people. Having lived in the plastics industry for seven years, I'm telling you, there is no better way to help the environment than to make sure your plastic bags and beverage bottles get recycled. And companies in the plastics industry that use recycled material do need the feedstocks.
This takes a little bit of time and effort, but it's worth it. I'm now to the point where it turns my stomach to even think about throwing a plastic bottle into a trash can. I'm proud to say that Dante has been doing his part, too.
In our neighborhood in Edmond, Okla., we do have curbside recycling, so it's a bit easier for us to set aside our bottles (glass, plastic); magazines and newspapers are recycled; anything that comes out of our house that can be recycled is.
When I was living in Parma, Ohio, the community did not have curbside recycling, but we handled this in several ways: Dante's parents (who lived upstairs from me) saved their plastic shopping bags and gave them to me and I in turn took them back to the grocery store; plastic bottles were recycled in several ways, first by a co-worker at Plastics News who collected the bottles; but other methods included utilizing local churches that have recycling bins and collection sites.
I'm including the link here to a segment about Chris Jordan that ran on Rachael Ray's show. It shouldn't take this to get any of us to pay attention.
http://www.rachaelrayshow.com/show/segments/view/chris-jordan/
Monday, May 26, 2008
Google Observation
I find it infinitely interesting that Google did not decorate its logo with a Memorial Day observation.
We all know Google decks its logo out for whatever holiday it is.
But they did not do it today.
I find that very interesting, as someone had pointed out to me that Google is somewhat anti-American. I don't know if that's true; I just take the observations in stride and then I pay attention. Does anyone have any insight into this?
We all know Google decks its logo out for whatever holiday it is.
But they did not do it today.
I find that very interesting, as someone had pointed out to me that Google is somewhat anti-American. I don't know if that's true; I just take the observations in stride and then I pay attention. Does anyone have any insight into this?
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Angie and Cely
Cely and Heidi (Geidi) are sisters from Honduras who were adopted by one of our friends in Edmond, Oklahoma. Here, Cely and I snapped our own picture.
Tornadoes? What Tornadoes?
While the storm chasers were chasing, a large crowd gathered in Edmond on Saturday night to watch a jazz and blues concert. Here we are! Listening to music, eating pizza and dancing under the stars!
The first photo is me with Heidi, our little friend who is from Honduras. We are waiting for our pizza. Bored, we started snapping pictures...
Twister City
http://apnews.myway.com/article/20080525/D90SHV481.html
More tornadoes came through Oklahoma over the weekend, as you'll see from this article. If you visit the Drudge report, www.drudgereport.com, you can find a video showing the tornado's formation. Storm chasers caught it on tape.
More tornadoes came through Oklahoma over the weekend, as you'll see from this article. If you visit the Drudge report, www.drudgereport.com, you can find a video showing the tornado's formation. Storm chasers caught it on tape.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Sacrifices
To Tony and Margaret, who walked among veterans' graves last weekend and placed flags on their graves; to my father, who fought in World War II; to my half-brothers Dominick and Nicky, each of whom was a soldier. Dominick did a 2-year tour of duty in Vietnam. To my Uncle Larry Himes, deceased but not forgotten, a soldier of the United States Army who also fought in war.
To Dante, who served in the United States Marine Corps and was called up for the first Gulf War and to our darling friend Joel, who is in Baghdad as we speak...I salute you this Memorial Day weekend.
I am a child of the military, the daughter of a soldier, the wife of a soldier, the sister and friend of soldiers.
I am a recipient of its values and of its errors.
Men who have surrounded me all my life are decidedly military men, soldiers who have trained and fought and sacrificed. It's as natural for me to think militarily as it is for me to breathe.
And where there isn't a soldier in my family, there is someone helping a soldier. Mother-in-law Margaret rates cases for veterans through Veterans' Affairs and determines if their medical problems have a connection to their service.
As I look at the state of our country in 2008, I don't forget the sacrifices made by veterans.
I'm not saying that we're perfect here in the United States, by any stretch of the imagination.
We have our problems.
But we cannot forget that our country was built on the many sacrifices of soldiers and their families. If we lose sight of that, then we lose sight of our history and that is a very dangerous thing.
The very freedom we possess is the result of the blood, sweat and tears of soldiers and their families.
We have a lot of things to correct in our current American society; there is a problem when so many of our citizens are underinsured or uninsured medically.
Health insurance, as with education, should be a fundamental human right, neither of which should ever gain status as a luxury of middle or upper middle class or rich social strata.
Which country is the human social experiment that has it all figured out? We don't know. But when you look around the world and see the current problems like the repressive junta in Myanmar and the dictatorship that suppresses Zimbabwe, you have to be grateful for this American life.
To Dante, who served in the United States Marine Corps and was called up for the first Gulf War and to our darling friend Joel, who is in Baghdad as we speak...I salute you this Memorial Day weekend.
I am a child of the military, the daughter of a soldier, the wife of a soldier, the sister and friend of soldiers.
I am a recipient of its values and of its errors.
Men who have surrounded me all my life are decidedly military men, soldiers who have trained and fought and sacrificed. It's as natural for me to think militarily as it is for me to breathe.
And where there isn't a soldier in my family, there is someone helping a soldier. Mother-in-law Margaret rates cases for veterans through Veterans' Affairs and determines if their medical problems have a connection to their service.
As I look at the state of our country in 2008, I don't forget the sacrifices made by veterans.
I'm not saying that we're perfect here in the United States, by any stretch of the imagination.
We have our problems.
But we cannot forget that our country was built on the many sacrifices of soldiers and their families. If we lose sight of that, then we lose sight of our history and that is a very dangerous thing.
The very freedom we possess is the result of the blood, sweat and tears of soldiers and their families.
We have a lot of things to correct in our current American society; there is a problem when so many of our citizens are underinsured or uninsured medically.
Health insurance, as with education, should be a fundamental human right, neither of which should ever gain status as a luxury of middle or upper middle class or rich social strata.
Which country is the human social experiment that has it all figured out? We don't know. But when you look around the world and see the current problems like the repressive junta in Myanmar and the dictatorship that suppresses Zimbabwe, you have to be grateful for this American life.
To Lisa for Tackling Breast Cancer
Lisa Woods is a friend of a friend, a woman with whom I played Bunko.
Tonight, we will celebrate the end of Lisa's breast cancer treatment.
Lisa was 31 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
Tonight, we'll celebrate health and life.
Tonight, we will celebrate the end of Lisa's breast cancer treatment.
Lisa was 31 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
Tonight, we'll celebrate health and life.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
A Letter to the Divine Miss M
Jami and Maddie, I hope you're reading this. I don't mean to be sad or downtrodden, but some things need to be addressed and I hope I can be of some help to a young girl in mourning. This is sparked by Jami's blog entry on Mother's Day.
Those of you who want to access it can link to Jami's blog to the right and read her May entry called "Mother's Day."
Maddie, this is for you. We knew your father, Kevin Pfirrman, when he and your mother were young(er) :-) and very much in love and we were all idealistic college students who had nothing better to do than run a daily newspaper at Kent State University.
Those were the simple days.
You, Maddie, were a twinkle in your father's eye and a far-off dream for your parents at the time. I know you miss him terribly, and for that, I am so sorry. Nothing quite shocked us more than your father's death. He was one of us. He accepted anyone, was so kind to everyone and was so easy to get along with.
I lost my dad when I was young, too.
Now that I am 32, I can tell you, even though my father was only in my life for seven years, his was the most significant influence in my life. In those short years, he taught me to get up early, to go to work every day, and to listen to one another. He taught me how to scratch lottery tickets and swore me to secrecy that if he got to get a beer at the bar, he would buy a rootbeer for me and that I wasn't to tell Mama that he had a beer.
We had an agreement. :-)
We lived in Florida when I was younger and those were my most special years with him in the time before he died. We fished, we swam, we ate boiled peanuts.
To this day, I cherish boiled peanuts, fishing, and swimming. They're all soothing to my soul because they're connections to his soul, the times we shared and the moments that made up our life together.
I always remember him saying, "Share and share alike," and the fact that he picked my name. And I'm glad he picked my name, trust me, because otherwise I'd be called Jeannette, and I don't like the name Jeannette. :-)
You are half your father; you have the sparkle that he had and your mother has; you are a product of him and them and their love. You are a child of the Earth and as you live out the days before you, you can cherish your father's memory in so many ways.
If I have a son some day, for example, he will be named Nicholas, after my father; as much as I thought I looked like my mother, I found photos of my father recently. He is who I resemble most; I have his nose and his mouth and some of his loud ways.
He was, afterall, a boisterous Italian with a larger-than-life personality.
For you, you can talk to people who knew your father; there are so many of us out here who will help you. I can't tell you how to grieve, for it is its own process. But I can tell you that in life, there is a ying and yang, a give and take, and for every loss, there is a gain; for every step backward, there is a step forward.
I promise you, life is beautiful. And in order to cherish and enjoy the rainbows, we must, unfortunately, witness the rain, too.
Take care, and please, contact me whenever you need to.
Those of you who want to access it can link to Jami's blog to the right and read her May entry called "Mother's Day."
Maddie, this is for you. We knew your father, Kevin Pfirrman, when he and your mother were young(er) :-) and very much in love and we were all idealistic college students who had nothing better to do than run a daily newspaper at Kent State University.
Those were the simple days.
You, Maddie, were a twinkle in your father's eye and a far-off dream for your parents at the time. I know you miss him terribly, and for that, I am so sorry. Nothing quite shocked us more than your father's death. He was one of us. He accepted anyone, was so kind to everyone and was so easy to get along with.
I lost my dad when I was young, too.
Now that I am 32, I can tell you, even though my father was only in my life for seven years, his was the most significant influence in my life. In those short years, he taught me to get up early, to go to work every day, and to listen to one another. He taught me how to scratch lottery tickets and swore me to secrecy that if he got to get a beer at the bar, he would buy a rootbeer for me and that I wasn't to tell Mama that he had a beer.
We had an agreement. :-)
We lived in Florida when I was younger and those were my most special years with him in the time before he died. We fished, we swam, we ate boiled peanuts.
To this day, I cherish boiled peanuts, fishing, and swimming. They're all soothing to my soul because they're connections to his soul, the times we shared and the moments that made up our life together.
I always remember him saying, "Share and share alike," and the fact that he picked my name. And I'm glad he picked my name, trust me, because otherwise I'd be called Jeannette, and I don't like the name Jeannette. :-)
You are half your father; you have the sparkle that he had and your mother has; you are a product of him and them and their love. You are a child of the Earth and as you live out the days before you, you can cherish your father's memory in so many ways.
If I have a son some day, for example, he will be named Nicholas, after my father; as much as I thought I looked like my mother, I found photos of my father recently. He is who I resemble most; I have his nose and his mouth and some of his loud ways.
He was, afterall, a boisterous Italian with a larger-than-life personality.
For you, you can talk to people who knew your father; there are so many of us out here who will help you. I can't tell you how to grieve, for it is its own process. But I can tell you that in life, there is a ying and yang, a give and take, and for every loss, there is a gain; for every step backward, there is a step forward.
I promise you, life is beautiful. And in order to cherish and enjoy the rainbows, we must, unfortunately, witness the rain, too.
Take care, and please, contact me whenever you need to.
Jolene The Three-Toed Box Turtle
Here she is ... the Box Turtle that lives in our front yard.
I found her on the sidewalk this morning when I was leaving for work.
Ultimate Personalization
It's the reason that Ipods and Starbucks and Mini-Coopers are so popular, whether you want to admit it or not.
It's personalization. You get to make things your ultimate own. And everyone knows I love to see my name in print; heck, that's why I'm a writer.
Now, Google has jumped on the bandwagon.
Check out this link here:
http://www.pimpmysearch.com/home.html?gname=Angie
I pimped my search! (Don't ask me how I did it. I didn't say I got along with technology; I just said it's cool every now and again). Honestly, one of my friends sent me the link and I just had to plug in my information. She knows me, what can I say. If it's not spelled out explicitly, I'm not going to do it.
I just don't have the time. There is too much writing to do in this life.
For example, I love the Ipod, but I won't load my own Ipod. I just don't have the patience. I want things to work and I want them to work yesterday!
Of course, my Ipod ended up washed and dried because you can't give me paper-thin pieces of technology and expect me to keep track of them.
Like that Apple MacBook Pro that's essentially magazine-thin. I would sit on that. I know I would.
It's personalization. You get to make things your ultimate own. And everyone knows I love to see my name in print; heck, that's why I'm a writer.
Now, Google has jumped on the bandwagon.
Check out this link here:
http://www.pimpmysearch.com/home.html?gname=Angie
I pimped my search! (Don't ask me how I did it. I didn't say I got along with technology; I just said it's cool every now and again). Honestly, one of my friends sent me the link and I just had to plug in my information. She knows me, what can I say. If it's not spelled out explicitly, I'm not going to do it.
I just don't have the time. There is too much writing to do in this life.
For example, I love the Ipod, but I won't load my own Ipod. I just don't have the patience. I want things to work and I want them to work yesterday!
Of course, my Ipod ended up washed and dried because you can't give me paper-thin pieces of technology and expect me to keep track of them.
Like that Apple MacBook Pro that's essentially magazine-thin. I would sit on that. I know I would.
Beautiful Baby
I brag on Kyrmina all the time because the little angel just makes me smile.
Here's another photo of my beautiful niece.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
MY 100th POST!
Who could have imagined I'd have so much to say?
Thank you to everyone who has been reading my blog.
I was born to write; in fact, if I'm not writing, I'm not happy. It's just that simple.
And I love photos, so if you send me a photo and I love it, chances are, it will end up here somewhere. You've been warned.
Thank you to everyone who has been reading my blog.
I was born to write; in fact, if I'm not writing, I'm not happy. It's just that simple.
And I love photos, so if you send me a photo and I love it, chances are, it will end up here somewhere. You've been warned.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Create a Caption
This is Niece Kyrmina with the Giancola family dog, Puppy.
Puppy has been around for years. Damian saved his life and nursed him back to health after he found Puppy, who had been hit by a car.
Puppy is the most loving dog you could ever imagine, and Kyrmina has adopted him as her brother.
Here is a photo of Kyrmina with Puppy, and I'm challenging all my blog readers to come up with a caption. To me, it appears as though Kyrmina may follow in her father's footsteps and become a veterinarian! Or, that she stuck one of her toys in Puppy's ear and she's trying to retrieve it.
The Andalusia Answer
No one guessed correctly the connection to Andalusia, although several people did try.
Andalusia is the farm in Milledgeville, Georgia, that was home to writer Flannery O'Connor. Who is Flannery O'Connor? Not a male, as most people guess. In fact, Flannery O'Connor is one of the writers I most respect who (in my opinion) quite perfected the short story form.
She has an acerbic wit that is quite refreshing. She expertly takes a hard-line look at religion and Southern culture.
Indeed, one of her characters in "Good Country People" has her wooden leg stolen by a Bible salesman.
One of the classic scenes in fiction. My kind of humor, to say the least.
I renamed my site because it's a great area for me to explore my writing, much as O'Connor's farm was the place where she explored most of her writing. When I do get some time, I may even post some of my own short fiction stories. Now, I said, "may," not "definitely." I'm like an overprotective mother with my short stories. I don't let them out very often, and when I do, I'm very careful with them. I suppose they will be better here than in the notebooks that have piled up in my house and on the hard drive.
Some great O'Connor quotes:
"The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it."
"Everywhere I go I am asked if I think the university stifles writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them. There is many a best-seller that could have been prevented by a good teacher."
Andalusia is the farm in Milledgeville, Georgia, that was home to writer Flannery O'Connor. Who is Flannery O'Connor? Not a male, as most people guess. In fact, Flannery O'Connor is one of the writers I most respect who (in my opinion) quite perfected the short story form.
She has an acerbic wit that is quite refreshing. She expertly takes a hard-line look at religion and Southern culture.
Indeed, one of her characters in "Good Country People" has her wooden leg stolen by a Bible salesman.
One of the classic scenes in fiction. My kind of humor, to say the least.
I renamed my site because it's a great area for me to explore my writing, much as O'Connor's farm was the place where she explored most of her writing. When I do get some time, I may even post some of my own short fiction stories. Now, I said, "may," not "definitely." I'm like an overprotective mother with my short stories. I don't let them out very often, and when I do, I'm very careful with them. I suppose they will be better here than in the notebooks that have piled up in my house and on the hard drive.
Some great O'Connor quotes:
"The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it."
"Everywhere I go I am asked if I think the university stifles writers. My opinion is that they don't stifle enough of them. There is many a best-seller that could have been prevented by a good teacher."
Monday, May 19, 2008
The Year of the Turtle
First, we found Romeo and Juliet in our backyard.
Then, I discovered Jolene hiding in the monkey grass in our front yard.
When we were hiking at a nearby park last week, we found a male on the trail.
There are, seemingly, box turtles everywhere.
Yesterday, Dante and I were headed to Lowe's. I was driving, and as I headed up the busy four-lane street, I saw a box turtle charging down the sidewalk to my right.
The turtle was indeed charging. It is the fastest I have ever seen a box turtle move. There wasn't anything chasing him, but one would have sworn he was running from something. Maybe the Mrs.
"Dante, the turtle is going into the street! He's going to get hit. We have to save him!"
Dante, of course, is up for anything, especially saving an animal.
I turn the car around, and Dante heads across the road. The box turtle by this point has fallen off the curb and is lying upside down, his legs flailing.
Dante tells me later he worried that the turtle had been hit. Picture us: me, in the car in the middle of this busy road, my hazard lights on so that cars can know we've stopped for something. Dante is headed off across the road, hoping that the turtle isn't injured or dead by now.
Dante picks him up by his shell. I turn the car around to come back and get them. Dante gets into the car (he would say that I parked the car six miles away, but that's impossible. I did not. I just went to the closest possible place to park. It just so happens that it was a bit of a walk for Dante, who was holding a turtle that was rambunctious and not wanting to be held by a human hand).
So the turtle is still flailing, his head out, his arms and legs racing, hoping that he'll touch pavement or grass or dirt and be able to take off. This is all while Dante's holding him by his shell. If the turtle could scream, "Let me go!" he would have.
But of course, turtles can't talk. We all know that.
But turtles can pee.
Dante gets in the car with the turtle and the turtle lets it go, some on Dante but mostly on my floor mat.
"Aw, he's pissing!" Guess who said that?
We took the turtle to Marilyn and Allen, who have been wanting to repopulate their property with box turtles. They were thrilled to have him.
Then, I discovered Jolene hiding in the monkey grass in our front yard.
When we were hiking at a nearby park last week, we found a male on the trail.
There are, seemingly, box turtles everywhere.
Yesterday, Dante and I were headed to Lowe's. I was driving, and as I headed up the busy four-lane street, I saw a box turtle charging down the sidewalk to my right.
The turtle was indeed charging. It is the fastest I have ever seen a box turtle move. There wasn't anything chasing him, but one would have sworn he was running from something. Maybe the Mrs.
"Dante, the turtle is going into the street! He's going to get hit. We have to save him!"
Dante, of course, is up for anything, especially saving an animal.
I turn the car around, and Dante heads across the road. The box turtle by this point has fallen off the curb and is lying upside down, his legs flailing.
Dante tells me later he worried that the turtle had been hit. Picture us: me, in the car in the middle of this busy road, my hazard lights on so that cars can know we've stopped for something. Dante is headed off across the road, hoping that the turtle isn't injured or dead by now.
Dante picks him up by his shell. I turn the car around to come back and get them. Dante gets into the car (he would say that I parked the car six miles away, but that's impossible. I did not. I just went to the closest possible place to park. It just so happens that it was a bit of a walk for Dante, who was holding a turtle that was rambunctious and not wanting to be held by a human hand).
So the turtle is still flailing, his head out, his arms and legs racing, hoping that he'll touch pavement or grass or dirt and be able to take off. This is all while Dante's holding him by his shell. If the turtle could scream, "Let me go!" he would have.
But of course, turtles can't talk. We all know that.
But turtles can pee.
Dante gets in the car with the turtle and the turtle lets it go, some on Dante but mostly on my floor mat.
"Aw, he's pissing!" Guess who said that?
We took the turtle to Marilyn and Allen, who have been wanting to repopulate their property with box turtles. They were thrilled to have him.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Botox Bedlam
As I was sitting at a restaurant the other night hanging out with friends, I noticed a trend at this Oklahoma City restaurant that hasn't been obvious to me at other restaurants in Oklahoma City.
Each woman had either bleached blonde hair, breasts boosted up with the magic of surgery, or lips injected with Botox.
Four of us sat there, me, Dante, one other man who happens to be a very respected leader in the state, and a professional woman with whom I'm very close friends.
We were amazed at the Circus act, which all of us agreed was likely akin to what one would see at the Playboy Mansion. Women prancing around in heels and short-short skirts, posing together in photos for the men in the crowd to adore.
I took a trip to the bathroom, where I overheard four women talking about their breast surgeries. My professional female friend told me later that she was certain several women were in the handicapped stall in the bathroom sharing a ummm, powder. And we're not talking powder that one puts on his or her body.
You know what I'm saying.
I was disheartened. I know the activity goes on, but I don't want to see it. For as much socializing as I do in Oklahoma City, this was the first establishment where I've seen this type of behavior. As I sat there, I saw a woman who I know from the gym I go to, where she is a trainer. I started a conversation with her, and she was encouraging me to boost my lips with Botox and get breast surgery because it made her feel so good.
This woman is presumably a professional athletic trainer. Women see her body and think that she has achieved this body through diet and exercise.
She hasn't.
She sat with her fiance and several friends who nodded in encouragement. "If it makes you feel good, do it."
It doesn't make me feel good. I won't be attending their Botox party. Somewhere in my development, I also got self esteem, thank goodness, where my psyche isn't built up by artificial drugs taken in through my nose or some toxin injected into my lips.
This woman is my age and she's already using Botox? She and her Botox friend sat there, watching other women walk in, dressed like Barbies, with bleached blonde hair and tans from a bottle or a bed.
They snared at each other, and I wondered, is this really what you allow to consume your time and energy?
I encouraged the two women to start working on their self esteem. Build up what's inside you by building up your mind and your wit because over time, beauty fades. No matter how much Botox you use or how many times you have your breasts augmented, it all eventually goes away.
I feel most beautiful when I am in my workout shorts and a t-shirt, my hair pulled up and my face bare. I don't know where I got it, but I'll take it any day over the emptiness that these women have inside their souls.
Each woman had either bleached blonde hair, breasts boosted up with the magic of surgery, or lips injected with Botox.
Four of us sat there, me, Dante, one other man who happens to be a very respected leader in the state, and a professional woman with whom I'm very close friends.
We were amazed at the Circus act, which all of us agreed was likely akin to what one would see at the Playboy Mansion. Women prancing around in heels and short-short skirts, posing together in photos for the men in the crowd to adore.
I took a trip to the bathroom, where I overheard four women talking about their breast surgeries. My professional female friend told me later that she was certain several women were in the handicapped stall in the bathroom sharing a ummm, powder. And we're not talking powder that one puts on his or her body.
You know what I'm saying.
I was disheartened. I know the activity goes on, but I don't want to see it. For as much socializing as I do in Oklahoma City, this was the first establishment where I've seen this type of behavior. As I sat there, I saw a woman who I know from the gym I go to, where she is a trainer. I started a conversation with her, and she was encouraging me to boost my lips with Botox and get breast surgery because it made her feel so good.
This woman is presumably a professional athletic trainer. Women see her body and think that she has achieved this body through diet and exercise.
She hasn't.
She sat with her fiance and several friends who nodded in encouragement. "If it makes you feel good, do it."
It doesn't make me feel good. I won't be attending their Botox party. Somewhere in my development, I also got self esteem, thank goodness, where my psyche isn't built up by artificial drugs taken in through my nose or some toxin injected into my lips.
This woman is my age and she's already using Botox? She and her Botox friend sat there, watching other women walk in, dressed like Barbies, with bleached blonde hair and tans from a bottle or a bed.
They snared at each other, and I wondered, is this really what you allow to consume your time and energy?
I encouraged the two women to start working on their self esteem. Build up what's inside you by building up your mind and your wit because over time, beauty fades. No matter how much Botox you use or how many times you have your breasts augmented, it all eventually goes away.
I feel most beautiful when I am in my workout shorts and a t-shirt, my hair pulled up and my face bare. I don't know where I got it, but I'll take it any day over the emptiness that these women have inside their souls.
Friday, May 16, 2008
The Graduate College Staff
I'm in the back, hidden between Liem and Miranda.
Seated in front are Diana Beal, Dean Lee Williams, Assistant Dean Janis Paul.
The University of Oklahoma Graduate College
I have been very, very blessed to be among great staffs of people at Plastics News and now, at the University of Oklahoma Graduate College.
With my love and dedication to higher education, I'm so proud to have these photos now to show everyone of the people I work with who make higher education possible for so many people. In my estimate, education is the best method for people to improve their lives, and access to education should be a fundamental human right. I am very passionate about that, because it's fundamentally how I pulled myself out of poverty and how I see many others pulling themselves out of economically distressed situations.
Pictured L-R in this photo are Liem Duong, Max Kovalov, me, and Linh Trin. We are the Graduate Assistants in the Graduate College.
Giancolas Were Not Exiled from Italy
Frank Esposito, my former co-worker at Plastics News, quite possibly is one of the funniest people I know. He posted about my contest on Andalusia, and of course, it was quintessential Frank.
So, I'm posting this to let Frank know that Andalusia has no connection to Giancolas or DeRosas being exiled from Italy.
Funny, though. Very funny.
So, I'm posting this to let Frank know that Andalusia has no connection to Giancolas or DeRosas being exiled from Italy.
Funny, though. Very funny.
Congratulations to Daren!
One of the greatest things to celebrate in life is graduation. I'm partial to this because I was the first to get a college degree in my family and I've watched so many people around me accomplish so much through education and one of the greatest ways to celebrate that is through graduation.
In June, my darling brother in law Daren will graduate from University of California at San Diego. He lives in La Jolla. Daren has quite possibly worked harder than I've ever seen anyone work in order to get this degree.
Daren is pictured here, at our house in Oklahoma.
And I love to see the fruits of hard work.
I'm getting this posting up here early because I'm so stinkin' proud. Salud!
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Here's the Contest
Who can tell me, "Why did Angie change the name of her blog to Andalusia? What does Andalusia mean?"
The winner will get bragging rights! Actually, if you get this one correct, I may agree to send the winner a gift certificate to Panera or Starbucks or the hip place of their choosing. The one who gets this answer correct would have to be very savvy, or just use Google.
It does, however, have to be the correct connection to Andalusia, as there is more than one definition.
The winner will get bragging rights! Actually, if you get this one correct, I may agree to send the winner a gift certificate to Panera or Starbucks or the hip place of their choosing. The one who gets this answer correct would have to be very savvy, or just use Google.
It does, however, have to be the correct connection to Andalusia, as there is more than one definition.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Two of Us
This was a few years ago. She had me laughing about something. I look horrible in this photo, because someone caught me in mid-laugh. But this is one of my favorite photos of me and Charlene.
For those who are just seeing this photo, read, "All the Mothers I Know," to learn more about Charlene's role in my life.
I can never repay her; and she wouldn't want to be repaid. She just wants me to continue sowing the seeds of love that she plants every day.
The Most Serene...
Charlene at the Yuba River, her own special place. I bet she doesn't even know I took this photo! This is a few years old.
Wonderful Charlene
This is actually my test of who reads my blog. :-) Actually, I've been wanting to post photos of all the most important people in my life, and this is a photo of Charlene on her property in Northern California with her grandson Liam.Now, I'll just wait to see how long it takes Charlene to tell me, "Angie, I saw my photo on your blog."
Love ya, Charlene.
"Someone's Sleeping in My Bed!"
Now, for another fun, quirky story, and one close to home for me, because I was afraid this was what we would find when we buried my mother...that someone had taken over her grave!
(With my family, you never know. Bills never get paid, so I never knew what to expect. But you can imagine my pleasant surprise when the property was paid for and no one had taken over Mama's space that had been reserved for 25 years).
Otherwise, I would have had to explain to her ghost why she couldn't rest for eternity next to my dad. Or she would have had me evict the occupier.
But, a man in Ohio found that someone else was occupying the space reserved for his body. Check this out.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,355662,00.html
(With my family, you never know. Bills never get paid, so I never knew what to expect. But you can imagine my pleasant surprise when the property was paid for and no one had taken over Mama's space that had been reserved for 25 years).
Otherwise, I would have had to explain to her ghost why she couldn't rest for eternity next to my dad. Or she would have had me evict the occupier.
But, a man in Ohio found that someone else was occupying the space reserved for his body. Check this out.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,355662,00.html
19-year-old Mayor in Oklahoma
Perhaps you've seen the news headlines by now. A 19-year-old has become the mayor of Muskogee, Okla. John Tyler Hammons also is a student at the University of Oklahoma.
http://newsok.com/19-year-old-ou-student-elected-mayor-of-muskogee/article/3243308/?tm=1210781023
Good for him.
This is the only time age matters. Or, when someone lives past 100. You get the picture.
For example, you wouldn't see the headline, "41 year old former night guard turns in handcuffs to become a ghost hunter."
Not as catchy, right?
OK, what about the 10-year-old college sophomore? That's another good story. See it here.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,355603,00.html
http://newsok.com/19-year-old-ou-student-elected-mayor-of-muskogee/article/3243308/?tm=1210781023
Good for him.
This is the only time age matters. Or, when someone lives past 100. You get the picture.
For example, you wouldn't see the headline, "41 year old former night guard turns in handcuffs to become a ghost hunter."
Not as catchy, right?
OK, what about the 10-year-old college sophomore? That's another good story. See it here.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,355603,00.html
"Noodlers for Obama"
No, folks, I am not making this up.
Check out this link from newsok.com
http://www.newsok.tv/?titleID=1554364526
Obama now needs to learn how to appeal to the "common" man and woman in Oklahoma, and one pundit is proclaiming that noodling is the way to do it.
As the pundit says, "What Obama needs is someone who can noodle."
No, what Obama needs is educated voters who aren't dead because some catfish took them out in a lake somewhere in Oklahoma. It's a wonder (now I'm piecing things together) as to why so many bodies disappear in so many lakes in Oklahoma. Every week, at least, The Oklahoman is able to run "Cold Case: OKC" as its banner story with a missing person case that hasn't been solved in 20, 30, maybe even 40 years.
Someone needs to start questioning the catfish.
Those of you who are from the North may never have heard of the concept of "noodling." And that's a good thing, trust me. A large portion of "Okies" have not heard of it, either, based on my own informal survey of the Okies I know.
Noodling is a hobby in Oklahoma, Texas, Alabama, Arkansas, basically a lot of Southern states where human beings want to take on larger-than-life catfish in lakes. The human beings use their own arms (yes, willingly) as bait to attract the catfish, then somehow the catfish clasps onto the human's arm, and the human yanks up and apparently, catches a catfish.
Or the catfish wins, and then no one ever hears from Earl or Nandine again. And then there's a "Cold Case: OKC" story about Earl or Nandine years later and a writer becomes famous for penning a novel about the murder mystery.
If you want to see more, search for "noodling" on YouTube. You won't believe the number of videos that are available.
I have never been noodling. I will not go noodling. There is something called a Noodling Fest in Paul's Valley, Okla., which I've only passed on my way to Dallas.
Sometimes, the car can't move quickly enough.
Check out this link from newsok.com
http://www.newsok.tv/?titleID=1554364526
Obama now needs to learn how to appeal to the "common" man and woman in Oklahoma, and one pundit is proclaiming that noodling is the way to do it.
As the pundit says, "What Obama needs is someone who can noodle."
No, what Obama needs is educated voters who aren't dead because some catfish took them out in a lake somewhere in Oklahoma. It's a wonder (now I'm piecing things together) as to why so many bodies disappear in so many lakes in Oklahoma. Every week, at least, The Oklahoman is able to run "Cold Case: OKC" as its banner story with a missing person case that hasn't been solved in 20, 30, maybe even 40 years.
Someone needs to start questioning the catfish.
Those of you who are from the North may never have heard of the concept of "noodling." And that's a good thing, trust me. A large portion of "Okies" have not heard of it, either, based on my own informal survey of the Okies I know.
Noodling is a hobby in Oklahoma, Texas, Alabama, Arkansas, basically a lot of Southern states where human beings want to take on larger-than-life catfish in lakes. The human beings use their own arms (yes, willingly) as bait to attract the catfish, then somehow the catfish clasps onto the human's arm, and the human yanks up and apparently, catches a catfish.
Or the catfish wins, and then no one ever hears from Earl or Nandine again. And then there's a "Cold Case: OKC" story about Earl or Nandine years later and a writer becomes famous for penning a novel about the murder mystery.
If you want to see more, search for "noodling" on YouTube. You won't believe the number of videos that are available.
I have never been noodling. I will not go noodling. There is something called a Noodling Fest in Paul's Valley, Okla., which I've only passed on my way to Dallas.
Sometimes, the car can't move quickly enough.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Welcome Avery Elyse Hock!
Jeanne and Brian Hock have a new baby!
Avery Elyse Hock was born at 12:13 p.m. Central Time in Nashville, Tenn.!
She was 8 pounds, 8.5 ounces, 20 inches long.
I received picture mail from Brian at 12:54 p.m. with Avery's picture. I was talking to Jeanne just a few moments later, and let me tell you, I admire my darling friend's perkiness.
She sounds fantastic and very energetic.
She told me, "I don't even feel like I went through childbirth."
God bless you, Jeanne. We love you.
Avery Elyse Hock was born at 12:13 p.m. Central Time in Nashville, Tenn.!
She was 8 pounds, 8.5 ounces, 20 inches long.
I received picture mail from Brian at 12:54 p.m. with Avery's picture. I was talking to Jeanne just a few moments later, and let me tell you, I admire my darling friend's perkiness.
She sounds fantastic and very energetic.
She told me, "I don't even feel like I went through childbirth."
God bless you, Jeanne. We love you.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Twisters In Oklahoma
Oklahoma without twisters in the Spring is like Ohio without snow in the winter.
Oklahoma (as illustrated by the campus at the University of Oklahoma and its National Weather Center) is the most fertile place on Earth for the formation of tornadoes. This is because of its geographic position on the North American continent. Cold air from the Rocky Mountain range meets with moist air from the Gulf of Mexico, or so goes the most simple explanation.
Several people have called to ask, "Are you guys OK?"
We are fine.
The area that was hit with the severe tornado, where several people were killed, is on the Oklahoma-Missouri border. Unfortunately, in that area of the state, people don't have access to televisions and news stations to know exactly when a storm is going to hit, or where.
It seems odd to think of it, but there are large parts of Oklahoma that are not developed. Parts of the Panhandle, for example, represent regions of the United States that still do not get a radio signal.
It is the deadest air in America.
Picher is not in that region, but it is very remote. It's not difficult to find remote areas in all parts of Oklahoma.
We had some excitement in Edmond last week when a twister was reported in our vicinity. I stayed in Norman and waited it out; Dante had the weather radio and the cats and was well prepared.
The Okie mindset, however, is wearing off on us. Each of us likes to watch the sky and see what it brings. Like I said, tornadoes happen so often here that people know how to deal with them.
Oklahoma (as illustrated by the campus at the University of Oklahoma and its National Weather Center) is the most fertile place on Earth for the formation of tornadoes. This is because of its geographic position on the North American continent. Cold air from the Rocky Mountain range meets with moist air from the Gulf of Mexico, or so goes the most simple explanation.
Several people have called to ask, "Are you guys OK?"
We are fine.
The area that was hit with the severe tornado, where several people were killed, is on the Oklahoma-Missouri border. Unfortunately, in that area of the state, people don't have access to televisions and news stations to know exactly when a storm is going to hit, or where.
It seems odd to think of it, but there are large parts of Oklahoma that are not developed. Parts of the Panhandle, for example, represent regions of the United States that still do not get a radio signal.
It is the deadest air in America.
Picher is not in that region, but it is very remote. It's not difficult to find remote areas in all parts of Oklahoma.
We had some excitement in Edmond last week when a twister was reported in our vicinity. I stayed in Norman and waited it out; Dante had the weather radio and the cats and was well prepared.
The Okie mindset, however, is wearing off on us. Each of us likes to watch the sky and see what it brings. Like I said, tornadoes happen so often here that people know how to deal with them.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
All the Mothers I Know
I may be a little more sentimental about Mother's Day this year because it's the first year I don't have my own mother.
Although my own mother gave birth to me and was the best mother she knew how to be, I have had many other women who have been a mother to me, and this is my tribute to them.
Nana, Charlene, Margaret, Mae, Lucy, Marilyn, just to name a few.
Mothering doesn't happen just from biological mother to child. Mothering happens by women who surround us and love us throughout the course of our daily lives, who boost us up when we're the most downtrodden, through all the hugs, the advice, the fighting, the tears, the laughs and happiness.
The women I've named above have been angels in my life. Nana taught me so many things, I couldn't even list them here. Charlene has been this wonderful constant, this woman from Northern California who happened to transfer to Ohio just at a time when I needed someone the most. She took a teenage girl under her wing and nurtured her and protected her. She taught me that you always help a child, and there is always a child who needs help.
She's the reason I will always say that I am Italian, but I am also part Hippie. She is the most loving, caring free spirit who taught me to love Birkenstocks, to search for fireflies and that you can in fact bathe in a lake.
Mae has been the best role model a young girl could ever have. Lucy, as my older sister, always has played the role of mother with me. She has always made sure I've been OK. "What have you learned?" she'll ask me when I make a silly mistake. She will never belittle me for the mistake, she'll just remind me that I'll learn from it and grow.
And my darling mother in law, Margaret, with whom I've shared many laughs, many tears, who held me and let me cry in her arms when I had a miscarriage; who has celebrated my writing and nurtured my soul; who sings with me and dances with me in the kitchen while we're cooking, and even when we're not; who has taught me that you cry your tears and then get up and fight another day.
New mothers pop up in our lives, and that is where Marilyn Knol came in, a woman who I met through another friend in Edmond, Oklahoma. As I sobbed about the loss of my own mother, Marilyn said, "I'll be your mother." Even though at age 60-something she has three of her own children and several grandchildren, she's taken me under her wing.
She danced with me in my living room and we've shared many, many laughs over sometimes too much wine. When I built the garden in my backyard in memory of my mother, Marilyn and her husband Allen gave me beautiful hostas that made the garden seem just right, just what my mom would have wanted.
And Marilyn taught me that you build a room where you can cherish the memories of your lost loved ones, and each day, you can step into that room and say, "Good morning, Mom. I love you and I think about you every day."
Just when I get caught up in thinking that the president of the United States or the Pope may be the most powerful person in the world, I take a step back and realize the most powerful and most important person is a mother.
Thank you to all the women who have mothered me.
Although my own mother gave birth to me and was the best mother she knew how to be, I have had many other women who have been a mother to me, and this is my tribute to them.
Nana, Charlene, Margaret, Mae, Lucy, Marilyn, just to name a few.
Mothering doesn't happen just from biological mother to child. Mothering happens by women who surround us and love us throughout the course of our daily lives, who boost us up when we're the most downtrodden, through all the hugs, the advice, the fighting, the tears, the laughs and happiness.
The women I've named above have been angels in my life. Nana taught me so many things, I couldn't even list them here. Charlene has been this wonderful constant, this woman from Northern California who happened to transfer to Ohio just at a time when I needed someone the most. She took a teenage girl under her wing and nurtured her and protected her. She taught me that you always help a child, and there is always a child who needs help.
She's the reason I will always say that I am Italian, but I am also part Hippie. She is the most loving, caring free spirit who taught me to love Birkenstocks, to search for fireflies and that you can in fact bathe in a lake.
Mae has been the best role model a young girl could ever have. Lucy, as my older sister, always has played the role of mother with me. She has always made sure I've been OK. "What have you learned?" she'll ask me when I make a silly mistake. She will never belittle me for the mistake, she'll just remind me that I'll learn from it and grow.
And my darling mother in law, Margaret, with whom I've shared many laughs, many tears, who held me and let me cry in her arms when I had a miscarriage; who has celebrated my writing and nurtured my soul; who sings with me and dances with me in the kitchen while we're cooking, and even when we're not; who has taught me that you cry your tears and then get up and fight another day.
New mothers pop up in our lives, and that is where Marilyn Knol came in, a woman who I met through another friend in Edmond, Oklahoma. As I sobbed about the loss of my own mother, Marilyn said, "I'll be your mother." Even though at age 60-something she has three of her own children and several grandchildren, she's taken me under her wing.
She danced with me in my living room and we've shared many, many laughs over sometimes too much wine. When I built the garden in my backyard in memory of my mother, Marilyn and her husband Allen gave me beautiful hostas that made the garden seem just right, just what my mom would have wanted.
And Marilyn taught me that you build a room where you can cherish the memories of your lost loved ones, and each day, you can step into that room and say, "Good morning, Mom. I love you and I think about you every day."
Just when I get caught up in thinking that the president of the United States or the Pope may be the most powerful person in the world, I take a step back and realize the most powerful and most important person is a mother.
Thank you to all the women who have mothered me.
Celebrating Mothers
One of the most touching people I've ever met is the mother of my sister-in-law Majida. I've only ever known her as "Mama." This is Mama with Kyrmina.
Mama moved with her husband (now deceased) and her children from Jordan to the United States. One of my favorite stories about Mama is her reaction when Majida was in a car accident in Columbus, Ohio.
Mama showed up at the scene of the accident in her bare feet. Any harm to her own feet from the shards of glass or other debris at the scene of the accident was the least of her worries.
She needed to make sure her child was OK.
Beautiful Women
This Mother's Day, I'm posting photos that we didn't even know existed of my mom. Ashley, my niece pictured here with me and my mom, happened to have these on her digital camera.
I've always been one to take pictures, lots and lots of pictures. In the aftermath of my mother's death, I have been most grateful for the pictures we have left. My dining room table is scattered with all types of photographs. Classic black and white photos of my mother and grandmother; photos of my mother and father; photos of me as a baby, as a toddler, as a child, then as a woman. Photos of Ashley as a baby, as a toddler, as a child, and now, growing into a beautiful woman.
Nana is pictured in the other photo at the very top, with my mother. For the longest time, my mother hated having her picture taken. Usually, we would sneak taking a photo of her.
We look back, and we're reminded of what we've done together, what we did for each other and how we leaned on each other, especially during my mother's illness. The photographs show the progression of life, the wonders of love, and the undeniable strength of a mother.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Recession-Proof City
Oklahoma City is top on the list for recession-proof cities, according to Forbes magazine.
Nationally, home prices are falling, unemployment is on the rise and the economy is expected to grow slowly — or even contract — in the first half of the year.
But some cities are doing just fine.
Take Oklahoma City, Okla. With falling unemployment, one of the country's strongest housing markets, and solid growth in agriculture, energy and manufacturing, it looks best positioned among the nation's largest metropolitan areas to ride out the current crisis.
Despite some of its economic problems of the past, the city stands to gain from some smart business decisions by local business people, including the Oklahoma City group that purchased the Seattle SuperSonics. Also, local developer Grant Humphreys won the eBay bid for the famed Santa Monica Pier Ferris Wheel, which he had dismantled and having resurrected in Oklahoma City.
These are key developments for Oklahoma City, which often suffers from economic comparisons to cities in Texas, especially since the Dallas-Fort Worth Metropolitan Area is only three hours south of the city.
Nationally, home prices are falling, unemployment is on the rise and the economy is expected to grow slowly — or even contract — in the first half of the year.
But some cities are doing just fine.
Take Oklahoma City, Okla. With falling unemployment, one of the country's strongest housing markets, and solid growth in agriculture, energy and manufacturing, it looks best positioned among the nation's largest metropolitan areas to ride out the current crisis.
Despite some of its economic problems of the past, the city stands to gain from some smart business decisions by local business people, including the Oklahoma City group that purchased the Seattle SuperSonics. Also, local developer Grant Humphreys won the eBay bid for the famed Santa Monica Pier Ferris Wheel, which he had dismantled and having resurrected in Oklahoma City.
These are key developments for Oklahoma City, which often suffers from economic comparisons to cities in Texas, especially since the Dallas-Fort Worth Metropolitan Area is only three hours south of the city.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Classic Al
My dear father in law was put in the hospital with a brain problem (likely, a hemorrage) while we were in the midst of burying my mother.
Thank goodness, he's OK. He had some memory problems and it was touch-and-go there for a while, but they placed him in a nursing home temporarily for rehabilitation and physical therapy after he was released from the hospital.
In order to appreciate the story I'm about to tell and the picture I'm posting here, you have to know how ornery Al is, God love him.
He didn't want to be in that nursing home. So he flushed his alarm down the toilet (the one they attached to him so that it could signal the nurses because he would get out of bed when he wasn't supposed to). He told us, "It was not a happy experience," of the time in the nursing home.
Let's just say they asked him to leave based on the Alarm Incident and other behavior, and my dear brother in law Damian had to go get him. In one incident, the nursing home staff wouldn't let Al put salt and pepper on his eggs, and well, that was more than he could handle.
So this is a photo of Al, obviously shopping, back out in the real world after getting himself out of the nursing home. It gave us quite a good laugh.
We love you, Al.
The Mess in Burma
Exact death figures are going to be difficult to pinpoint, let's be rest assured. But the junta must accept foreign aid to recover from this horrible disaster.
At the link I'm including here, you can see "before" and "after" satellite shots of the cyclone's impact.
http://www.popsci.com/environment/article/2008-05/satellite-images-devastation-burma
The other item that I want to mention is that we don't need to see the dead bodies. We know what happened.
Dante contributed to this. Thank you, Dante. We'll leave your politics out of it, but thank you for the satellite link.
At the link I'm including here, you can see "before" and "after" satellite shots of the cyclone's impact.
http://www.popsci.com/environment/article/2008-05/satellite-images-devastation-burma
The other item that I want to mention is that we don't need to see the dead bodies. We know what happened.
Dante contributed to this. Thank you, Dante. We'll leave your politics out of it, but thank you for the satellite link.
Happy Birthday Jeffrey and Katie!
Some great people were born this week.
My niece Katie celebrates her birthday tomorrow. I remember taking her to my apartment when she was so tiny and she'd scream her head off. She didn't like me, but now at least we're friends. :-) Love ya, Katie.
Nephew Jeffrey turns 19 today, which is quite unbelievable. I remember changing his diapers and dressing him up in little outfits and having him dance on the table.
I recall thinking, "Wow, they're getting tall," and somehow assuming that as they grew older, I wasn't growing older. And then I remember the Jerry Seinfeld line, "They're here to replace you."
Funny.
For more fun stuff, check out this YouTube link to a dancing first grader (Thank you Jessie for alerting us to it). Can you dance like a first grader? Not me. I'd be in traction if I tried this.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QC70xJDW7zo
My niece Katie celebrates her birthday tomorrow. I remember taking her to my apartment when she was so tiny and she'd scream her head off. She didn't like me, but now at least we're friends. :-) Love ya, Katie.
Nephew Jeffrey turns 19 today, which is quite unbelievable. I remember changing his diapers and dressing him up in little outfits and having him dance on the table.
I recall thinking, "Wow, they're getting tall," and somehow assuming that as they grew older, I wasn't growing older. And then I remember the Jerry Seinfeld line, "They're here to replace you."
Funny.
For more fun stuff, check out this YouTube link to a dancing first grader (Thank you Jessie for alerting us to it). Can you dance like a first grader? Not me. I'd be in traction if I tried this.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QC70xJDW7zo
The Final Final
Blog readers, here is my thought for the day, "Aim for success, not perfection. Never give up your right to be wrong."
This is what I was thinking all morning as I finished my final final for my first semester in Graduate School.
It was all essay. And it required every bit of the two hours I was allotted.
For the first essay question, I had to write a memo to (presumed) President Hillary Clinton about the problems of the World Bank, how I as the World Bank president would fix some of the problems, etc., and how I would work to assuage shareholders, NGOs and poor countries.
For another question, I had to describe comparative advantage using the Heksher Olin model of endowments and describe a situation in which two countries would trade goods under the model over a given period of time.
For another essay question, I had to describe the current round of trade negotiations under the WTO (called the Doha round), why it’s in a deadlock and then trace the entire history of the rounds of trade, what the current issues are, and how we can overcome these problems and what is my view of the future of trade.
Then, for the last essay question, I had to describe in detail components of the last book we read (Lant Pritchett's `Let Their People Come') describe how rich countries’ demographics are generally against open borders and immigration, and then synthesize all of that into one strong essay where I had to thread the concept of “ghosts” and “zombies” as described by the book’s author throughout the theme of that essay.
Really, I'm just laying it all out here to get it off my chest. It was a lot of writing.
Am I celebrating? Of course. I am happy, elated, to be finished with this semester's studies. I did not, however, follow the advice of one of my student workers: If you don't know the answer, just draw the finger.
You all know what finger I am talking about.
But the professor did manage to pull out some tricks where I was completely dumbfounded at the questions. This is where being a non-traditional student with a career life behind me comes in handy. I used to get physically sick in undergraduate at the thought of essay exams. I would at least manage to give myself an anxiety attack. It's all about perspective. I said, "What's done is done. I did the best I could."
No summer classes for me. I've got to catch up on some sleep.
Thank all of you for the love and support I needed to get through this semester, because it wasn't easy.
This is what I was thinking all morning as I finished my final final for my first semester in Graduate School.
It was all essay. And it required every bit of the two hours I was allotted.
For the first essay question, I had to write a memo to (presumed) President Hillary Clinton about the problems of the World Bank, how I as the World Bank president would fix some of the problems, etc., and how I would work to assuage shareholders, NGOs and poor countries.
For another question, I had to describe comparative advantage using the Heksher Olin model of endowments and describe a situation in which two countries would trade goods under the model over a given period of time.
For another essay question, I had to describe the current round of trade negotiations under the WTO (called the Doha round), why it’s in a deadlock and then trace the entire history of the rounds of trade, what the current issues are, and how we can overcome these problems and what is my view of the future of trade.
Then, for the last essay question, I had to describe in detail components of the last book we read (Lant Pritchett's `Let Their People Come') describe how rich countries’ demographics are generally against open borders and immigration, and then synthesize all of that into one strong essay where I had to thread the concept of “ghosts” and “zombies” as described by the book’s author throughout the theme of that essay.
Really, I'm just laying it all out here to get it off my chest. It was a lot of writing.
Am I celebrating? Of course. I am happy, elated, to be finished with this semester's studies. I did not, however, follow the advice of one of my student workers: If you don't know the answer, just draw the finger.
You all know what finger I am talking about.
But the professor did manage to pull out some tricks where I was completely dumbfounded at the questions. This is where being a non-traditional student with a career life behind me comes in handy. I used to get physically sick in undergraduate at the thought of essay exams. I would at least manage to give myself an anxiety attack. It's all about perspective. I said, "What's done is done. I did the best I could."
No summer classes for me. I've got to catch up on some sleep.
Thank all of you for the love and support I needed to get through this semester, because it wasn't easy.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Kyrmina the Cutie
I can't help it. When I get adorable pictures of Kyrmina, I have to post some of them.
Red is definitely this child's best color to wear in clothing.
Adorable!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Subprime Mess Fallout
UBS has reported a first-quarter loss of $10.97 billion. It will layoff 7 percent of its workforce. See the story at the following link. That is 2,600 workers in its investment banking unit in the United States and Britain.
http://biz.yahoo.com/ap/080506/earns_switzerland_ubs.html?.v=3
http://biz.yahoo.com/ap/080506/earns_switzerland_ubs.html?.v=3
Teaching Ayn Rand's Capitalism
This is making news headlines. Banking firm BB&T is pledging $1 million to Marshall University in West Virginia to establish a class that teaches the capitalist philosophy of Ayn Rand's "Atlas Shrugged," and Adam Smith's "The Wealth of Nations."
The money also would help create the BB&T Center for Advancement of American Capitalism.
Rand wrote "The Virtue of Selfishness." Her philosophy, objectivism, is based on the view that selfishness is the only moral value, according to NPR. I own her collection of essays, "Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal," which has input from former United States Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan, and I'm the first person to hail Greenspan as one of the better economic thinkers of our time.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90104091&ft=1&f=100
Check out the story at the above link.
Rand and Smith have some great philosophies and ideas that have become cornerstones of modern economic and philosophical thought. But the two people did not exist in our time. I am not discounting the genius of either person, but each person existed in different time and space than what we're dealing with in modern economic times.
Keynesian economics, for example, would have theorized that stagflation couldn't have happened, necessarily, but we saw that in the 1970s and we've seen many theorists who believe it may happen again today.
My point to all this is that of course someone is going to want to teach Rand, just as economics classes rely on Smith as one of the main Founding Fathers of modern economic thought. But recall that Smith was among Classicists who didn't know to account for technology in a production function. That came later, as companies evolved and economic thought evolved with it. Rand's philosophies therefore have to be balanced because standard American capitalism isn't a cure-all for the economic wounds of the world.
The money also would help create the BB&T Center for Advancement of American Capitalism.
Rand wrote "The Virtue of Selfishness." Her philosophy, objectivism, is based on the view that selfishness is the only moral value, according to NPR. I own her collection of essays, "Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal," which has input from former United States Federal Reserve Chairman Alan Greenspan, and I'm the first person to hail Greenspan as one of the better economic thinkers of our time.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90104091&ft=1&f=100
Check out the story at the above link.
Rand and Smith have some great philosophies and ideas that have become cornerstones of modern economic and philosophical thought. But the two people did not exist in our time. I am not discounting the genius of either person, but each person existed in different time and space than what we're dealing with in modern economic times.
Keynesian economics, for example, would have theorized that stagflation couldn't have happened, necessarily, but we saw that in the 1970s and we've seen many theorists who believe it may happen again today.
My point to all this is that of course someone is going to want to teach Rand, just as economics classes rely on Smith as one of the main Founding Fathers of modern economic thought. But recall that Smith was among Classicists who didn't know to account for technology in a production function. That came later, as companies evolved and economic thought evolved with it. Rand's philosophies therefore have to be balanced because standard American capitalism isn't a cure-all for the economic wounds of the world.
Monday, May 5, 2008
It's Finals Week
Having a "Finals Week" is strange.
Surreal, in fact.
But this is my "Finals Week" so wish me luck!
Surreal, in fact.
But this is my "Finals Week" so wish me luck!
Happy Birthday Dante!
My Magic Man was born today in 1971.
His always was a remarkable story. His mother had eight miscarriages before Dante (her first child) was successfully carried to term.
Margaret, we love you for never giving up!
He had a hole in his heart and somewhere between his first and fourth years, he had a blood clot, too.
(Honey, if you're reading this, I'm using my blogging platform to let you know how much I admire you and how much I love you.)
He went into the Marines at age 18 and did that for six or seven years, and then went to college, where we met.
He tried journalism, but he hated it. Then he got his Master's degree at the University of Akron, and his admirable political career started after that.
So Dante, today, as you turn 37, know that you've already lived a remarkable life.
His always was a remarkable story. His mother had eight miscarriages before Dante (her first child) was successfully carried to term.
Margaret, we love you for never giving up!
He had a hole in his heart and somewhere between his first and fourth years, he had a blood clot, too.
(Honey, if you're reading this, I'm using my blogging platform to let you know how much I admire you and how much I love you.)
He went into the Marines at age 18 and did that for six or seven years, and then went to college, where we met.
He tried journalism, but he hated it. Then he got his Master's degree at the University of Akron, and his admirable political career started after that.
So Dante, today, as you turn 37, know that you've already lived a remarkable life.
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