Dante has managed to talk me into taking a REAL vacation.
What does this mean? We are headed on a road trip, despite gas prices! We haven't had a vacation together in a long, long time, and we've been looking to explore the other states that surround Oklahoma. We've been to Kansas; Arkansas; Missouri; and of course, Texas. But we haven't hit Colorado or New Mexico!
With mom's illness and death, with the health of Dante's father, and all the other chaos that has consumed our lives over the past two years, we're so happy to get away.
Where are we headed, you ask? Our trip will start in Santa Fe, New Mexico; then, we'll go to Taos; then we will meet Dante's family in Copper Mountain, Colorado.
Lots of art towns (my favorite); one spa stop between Santa Fe and Taos (Ojo Caliente); lots of HIKING, biking and kayaking; and a meeting with dear friends Kelly and Shad, who live in Denver.
You'll hear from me upon my return on July 8!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
The (Sometimes) Daily Quote
"Nothing is so wretched or foolish as to anticipate misfortunes. What madness is it to be expecting evil before it comes." (Seneca)
Seneca said this. For the last quote I posted about the meaning of tears, the source was Pip in Dickens' Great Expectations.
Seneca said this. For the last quote I posted about the meaning of tears, the source was Pip in Dickens' Great Expectations.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Outsourcing Our Language
http://www.businessweek.com/ap/financialnews/D91GQIK80.htm
The Orange County Register is outsourcing, of all things, copy editing duties to India.
I am a former full-time journalist and I am a freelance writer now; I cannot fathom having copy editing duties outsourced half a world away especially for a community newspaper.
Have we really dulled ourselves that much to the need for local talent to fulfill such tasks?
As a bona fide English language enthusiast, I take offense that a firm in India is going to copy edit articles for a newspaper in America.
I wouldn't expect that I could copy edit a newspaper for any community in India.
As a supporter of emerging economies, I appreciate that outsourcing provides jobs and helps those countries' citizens boost themselves up.
But when we're agreeing to outsource our language, we've honestly gone too far.
The Orange County Register is outsourcing, of all things, copy editing duties to India.
I am a former full-time journalist and I am a freelance writer now; I cannot fathom having copy editing duties outsourced half a world away especially for a community newspaper.
Have we really dulled ourselves that much to the need for local talent to fulfill such tasks?
As a bona fide English language enthusiast, I take offense that a firm in India is going to copy edit articles for a newspaper in America.
I wouldn't expect that I could copy edit a newspaper for any community in India.
As a supporter of emerging economies, I appreciate that outsourcing provides jobs and helps those countries' citizens boost themselves up.
But when we're agreeing to outsource our language, we've honestly gone too far.
Noonan on Russert
This really sums up nicely the coverage on Tim Russert's death.
DECLARATIONS
By PEGGY NOONAN
A Life's LessonJune 20, 2008; Page A9, WSJ
When somebody dies, we tell his story and try to define and isolate what was special about it—what it was he brought to the party, how he enhanced life by showing up. In this way we educate ourselves about what really matters. Or, often, re-educate ourselves, for "man needs more to be reminded than instructed."
I understand why some think that the media coverage surrounding Tim Russert's death was excessive—truly, it was unprecedented—but it doesn't seem to me a persuasive indictment, if only because what was said was so valuable.
The beautiful thing about the coverage was that it offered extremely important information to those age 15 or 25 or 30 who may not have been told how to operate in the world beyond "Go succeed." I'm not sure we tell the young as much as we ought, as clearly as we ought, what it is the world admires, and what it is they want to emulate.
In a way, the world is a great liar. It shows you it worships and admires money, but at the end of the day it doesn't. It says it adores fame and celebrity, but it doesn't, not really. The world admires, and wants to hold on to, and not lose, goodness. It admires virtue. At the end it gives its greatest tributes to generosity, honesty, courage, mercy, talents well used, talents that, brought into the world, make it better. That's what it really admires. That's what we talk about in eulogies, because that's what's important. We don't say, "The thing about Joe was he was rich." We say, if we can, "The thing about Joe was he took care of people."
The young are told, "Be true to yourself." But so many of them have no idea, really, what that means. If they don't know who they are, what are they being true to? They're told, "The key is to hold firm to your ideals." But what if no one bothered, really, to teach them ideals?
After Tim's death, the entire television media for four days told you the keys to a life well lived, the things you actually need to live life well, and without which it won't be good. Among them: taking care of those you love and letting them know they're loved, which involves self-sacrifice; holding firm to God, to your religious faith, no matter how high you rise or low you fall. This involves guts, and self-discipline, and active attention to developing and refining a conscience to whose promptings you can respond. Honoring your calling or profession by trying to do within it honorable work, which takes hard effort, and a willingness to master the ethics of your field. And enjoying life. This can be hard in America, where sometimes people are rather grim in their determination to get and to have. "Enjoy life, it's ungrateful not to," said Ronald Reagan.
Tim had these virtues. They were great to see. By defining them and celebrating them the past few days, the media encouraged them. This was a public service, and also what you might call Tim's parting gift.
I'd add it's not only the young, but the older and the old, who were given a few things to think about. When Tim's friends started to come forward last Friday to speak on the air of his excellence, they were honestly grieving. They felt loss. So did people who'd never met him. Question: When you die, are people in your profession going to feel like this? Why not? What can you do better? When you leave, are your customers—in Tim's case it was five million every Sunday morning, in your case it may be the people who come into the shop, or into your office—going to react like this? Why not?
* * *
One of the greatest statements, the most piercing, was something Chuck Todd said when he talked on a panel on MSNBC. He was asked more or less why Tim stuck out from the pack, and he said, "He was normal!" In a city, Washington, in which many powerful people are deep down weird, or don't have a deep down, only a surface, Tim was normal. Like a normal man he cared about his family and his profession and his faith. Pat Buchanan later said they're not making them now like they used to, Tim's normality is becoming the exception. The world of Russert—stability, Catholic school, loving parents, TV shows that attempted only to entertain you and not to create a new moral universe in your head—that's over, that world is gone. He had a point, though it's not gone entirely of course, just not as big, or present, as it used to be.
Ken Fallin
Which got me thinking about one way in which Tim was lauded that, after a few days, was grating. And what's a column without a gripe? Tim, as all now know, was a working-class boy from upstate New York. But the amazement with which some of his colleagues talked of his background made them sound like Margaret Mead among the indigenous people of Borneo. An amazing rags-to-riches story—he was found among an amazing Celtic tribe that dragged its clubs across the tangled jungle floors of a land called "Buffalo," where they eat "wings" and worship a warrior caste known as "the Bills." Here he is, years later, in a suit. This reflected a certain cultural insularity in our media, did it not? Tim came from a loving home, grew up in a house, in a suburb. He went to private Catholic schools. His father was a garbageman, which when I was growing up was known as a good municipal union job. Tim's life was as good as or better than 90% of his countrymen in his time. His background wasn't strange or surprising—it was normal.
Something not fully appreciated is the sense of particular sadness among conservatives, who felt Russert gave their views and philosophy equal time, an equality of approach. When Kate O'Beirne had a book out on the excesses of feminism a few years ago the only network show on which she was asked to give the antiabortion argument was "Meet the Press." When I was on the book tour in 2000 for "The Case Against Hillary Clinton," Tim's was the only show that asked me to state my case at length, balancing it with an appearance of the same length by a Hillary supporter. I'm not sure network producers understand how grateful—embarrassing word, but true—conservatives are to be given time to say not only what they think but why they think it. Russert was big on why. He knew it was the heart of any political debate.
* * *
On the train coming back from his memorial on Wednesday, I talked to Tom Kean, a former governor of New Jersey and chairman of the 9/11 Commission. He told me of how a few years ago Tim, concerned about nuclear proliferation, invited Mr. Kean and Sam Nunn on "Meet the Press" to talk about it at length. No particular hook, he just wanted to gin up concern in Washington on an issue he knew was crucial. Mr. Kean said he had listened closely to all the journalists the past few days talking about how Tim prepared rigorously, was open-minded, civic minded, serious. He hoped they were listening to themselves, hoped they were reflecting on what they said. Emulation would be good there, too.
DECLARATIONS
By PEGGY NOONAN
A Life's LessonJune 20, 2008; Page A9, WSJ
When somebody dies, we tell his story and try to define and isolate what was special about it—what it was he brought to the party, how he enhanced life by showing up. In this way we educate ourselves about what really matters. Or, often, re-educate ourselves, for "man needs more to be reminded than instructed."
I understand why some think that the media coverage surrounding Tim Russert's death was excessive—truly, it was unprecedented—but it doesn't seem to me a persuasive indictment, if only because what was said was so valuable.
The beautiful thing about the coverage was that it offered extremely important information to those age 15 or 25 or 30 who may not have been told how to operate in the world beyond "Go succeed." I'm not sure we tell the young as much as we ought, as clearly as we ought, what it is the world admires, and what it is they want to emulate.
In a way, the world is a great liar. It shows you it worships and admires money, but at the end of the day it doesn't. It says it adores fame and celebrity, but it doesn't, not really. The world admires, and wants to hold on to, and not lose, goodness. It admires virtue. At the end it gives its greatest tributes to generosity, honesty, courage, mercy, talents well used, talents that, brought into the world, make it better. That's what it really admires. That's what we talk about in eulogies, because that's what's important. We don't say, "The thing about Joe was he was rich." We say, if we can, "The thing about Joe was he took care of people."
The young are told, "Be true to yourself." But so many of them have no idea, really, what that means. If they don't know who they are, what are they being true to? They're told, "The key is to hold firm to your ideals." But what if no one bothered, really, to teach them ideals?
After Tim's death, the entire television media for four days told you the keys to a life well lived, the things you actually need to live life well, and without which it won't be good. Among them: taking care of those you love and letting them know they're loved, which involves self-sacrifice; holding firm to God, to your religious faith, no matter how high you rise or low you fall. This involves guts, and self-discipline, and active attention to developing and refining a conscience to whose promptings you can respond. Honoring your calling or profession by trying to do within it honorable work, which takes hard effort, and a willingness to master the ethics of your field. And enjoying life. This can be hard in America, where sometimes people are rather grim in their determination to get and to have. "Enjoy life, it's ungrateful not to," said Ronald Reagan.
Tim had these virtues. They were great to see. By defining them and celebrating them the past few days, the media encouraged them. This was a public service, and also what you might call Tim's parting gift.
I'd add it's not only the young, but the older and the old, who were given a few things to think about. When Tim's friends started to come forward last Friday to speak on the air of his excellence, they were honestly grieving. They felt loss. So did people who'd never met him. Question: When you die, are people in your profession going to feel like this? Why not? What can you do better? When you leave, are your customers—in Tim's case it was five million every Sunday morning, in your case it may be the people who come into the shop, or into your office—going to react like this? Why not?
* * *
One of the greatest statements, the most piercing, was something Chuck Todd said when he talked on a panel on MSNBC. He was asked more or less why Tim stuck out from the pack, and he said, "He was normal!" In a city, Washington, in which many powerful people are deep down weird, or don't have a deep down, only a surface, Tim was normal. Like a normal man he cared about his family and his profession and his faith. Pat Buchanan later said they're not making them now like they used to, Tim's normality is becoming the exception. The world of Russert—stability, Catholic school, loving parents, TV shows that attempted only to entertain you and not to create a new moral universe in your head—that's over, that world is gone. He had a point, though it's not gone entirely of course, just not as big, or present, as it used to be.
Ken Fallin
Which got me thinking about one way in which Tim was lauded that, after a few days, was grating. And what's a column without a gripe? Tim, as all now know, was a working-class boy from upstate New York. But the amazement with which some of his colleagues talked of his background made them sound like Margaret Mead among the indigenous people of Borneo. An amazing rags-to-riches story—he was found among an amazing Celtic tribe that dragged its clubs across the tangled jungle floors of a land called "Buffalo," where they eat "wings" and worship a warrior caste known as "the Bills." Here he is, years later, in a suit. This reflected a certain cultural insularity in our media, did it not? Tim came from a loving home, grew up in a house, in a suburb. He went to private Catholic schools. His father was a garbageman, which when I was growing up was known as a good municipal union job. Tim's life was as good as or better than 90% of his countrymen in his time. His background wasn't strange or surprising—it was normal.
Something not fully appreciated is the sense of particular sadness among conservatives, who felt Russert gave their views and philosophy equal time, an equality of approach. When Kate O'Beirne had a book out on the excesses of feminism a few years ago the only network show on which she was asked to give the antiabortion argument was "Meet the Press." When I was on the book tour in 2000 for "The Case Against Hillary Clinton," Tim's was the only show that asked me to state my case at length, balancing it with an appearance of the same length by a Hillary supporter. I'm not sure network producers understand how grateful—embarrassing word, but true—conservatives are to be given time to say not only what they think but why they think it. Russert was big on why. He knew it was the heart of any political debate.
* * *
On the train coming back from his memorial on Wednesday, I talked to Tom Kean, a former governor of New Jersey and chairman of the 9/11 Commission. He told me of how a few years ago Tim, concerned about nuclear proliferation, invited Mr. Kean and Sam Nunn on "Meet the Press" to talk about it at length. No particular hook, he just wanted to gin up concern in Washington on an issue he knew was crucial. Mr. Kean said he had listened closely to all the journalists the past few days talking about how Tim prepared rigorously, was open-minded, civic minded, serious. He hoped they were listening to themselves, hoped they were reflecting on what they said. Emulation would be good there, too.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Natural in California
We did it.
We had a slumber party for Amy's 30th birthday!
Pictured left to right, me, Amy, Karol; and then Laura, Charlene, Alanna, Abby and Lily had a slumber party on Saturday night.
How fun!
Laura and Lily
Laura is Amy's sister. She's pictured here with her daughter Lily, who's 9 months old. Lily has a fantastic appetite! And her mom happens to be a fantastic baker!
California Stars Part Deux
Left to right:
Becky; Tony; Angie; (Alanna is right in front of me); Amy; Charlene; and little Liem.
Can you name the source?
Who is the source of this quote?
"Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle."
"Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle."
Ten Fridays in Baghdad
Our dear friend Joel Kintsel is headed back to Baghdad.
The military granted him a minor break where he could come back to Oklahoma for 15 days, and he's headed back on Wednesday.
He came up with a way to look at it, a way to fill the time in the Green Zone for his remaining tour. He said he views it as he has 10 Fridays remaining in Baghdad.
Joel, we will be praying for you; we ask everyone else to pray for Joel and his beautiful wife Nancy and Mr. Gavin, whose birth we all celebrated in January.
Shortly, I will have new photos and a video to post of Gavin. He's getting so big!
The military granted him a minor break where he could come back to Oklahoma for 15 days, and he's headed back on Wednesday.
He came up with a way to look at it, a way to fill the time in the Green Zone for his remaining tour. He said he views it as he has 10 Fridays remaining in Baghdad.
Joel, we will be praying for you; we ask everyone else to pray for Joel and his beautiful wife Nancy and Mr. Gavin, whose birth we all celebrated in January.
Shortly, I will have new photos and a video to post of Gavin. He's getting so big!
Strangers with Cows
Picture it:
ExpressJet Flight 0224 from Sacramento to Oklahoma City, Monday, June 23, roughly 11 a.m. PST.
Angie Mia DeRosa Giancola is seated happily in seat 10A. She is wearing her headphones, which were free, she is listening to CLASSICAL music on XM Satellite Radio and she is snacking on a REAL sandwich and baby cut carrots (for the record, there is little in life that makes AMDG happier than baby cut carrots, except maybe hummus for dip. But let's not get picky).
There are two friendly people behind her, and behaving children across the aisle. The two friendly people behind AMDG have struck up a conversation.
They find that they have some things in common, including photos to share.
Here is the conversation, and for this, AMDG even turned down her Mozart to listen:
Person 1: "Oh, isn't that adorable. Why, they must be twins."
Person 2: "They are indeed my pride and joy. Timmy and Joann just turned 3."
Person 1: "They are gorgeous. You should be so proud. Look at those eyes! And that hair! You must take such care of them."
Person 2: "And they are so smart. I've never seen such intelligence. But I'm probably partial because they're mine."
Person 1: "I had very smart cows once, too, and you can definitely tell a difference."
Person 2: : "These calves are my babies."
Dear reader, you did not read that incorrectly. Person 1 and Person 2 were sharing photos of their cows.
I could not make this up if I tried.
Dante pointed out (and it's true) that I have strange plane rides with Okies. (No offense to my friends who are Okies). But my history of plane rides with Okies usually is that I pick up on very bizarre conversations. Sometimes, I inadvertently end up as part of the conversation, like when a fellow passenger on a Southwest flight bound from Phoenix to OKC wanted to share photos of her dead baby.
That was weird.
See why I wear headphones at all times now? But the writer in me still observes and hears that which I do not always want to observe or hear. It's a curse.
ExpressJet Flight 0224 from Sacramento to Oklahoma City, Monday, June 23, roughly 11 a.m. PST.
Angie Mia DeRosa Giancola is seated happily in seat 10A. She is wearing her headphones, which were free, she is listening to CLASSICAL music on XM Satellite Radio and she is snacking on a REAL sandwich and baby cut carrots (for the record, there is little in life that makes AMDG happier than baby cut carrots, except maybe hummus for dip. But let's not get picky).
There are two friendly people behind her, and behaving children across the aisle. The two friendly people behind AMDG have struck up a conversation.
They find that they have some things in common, including photos to share.
Here is the conversation, and for this, AMDG even turned down her Mozart to listen:
Person 1: "Oh, isn't that adorable. Why, they must be twins."
Person 2: "They are indeed my pride and joy. Timmy and Joann just turned 3."
Person 1: "They are gorgeous. You should be so proud. Look at those eyes! And that hair! You must take such care of them."
Person 2: "And they are so smart. I've never seen such intelligence. But I'm probably partial because they're mine."
Person 1: "I had very smart cows once, too, and you can definitely tell a difference."
Person 2: : "These calves are my babies."
Dear reader, you did not read that incorrectly. Person 1 and Person 2 were sharing photos of their cows.
I could not make this up if I tried.
Dante pointed out (and it's true) that I have strange plane rides with Okies. (No offense to my friends who are Okies). But my history of plane rides with Okies usually is that I pick up on very bizarre conversations. Sometimes, I inadvertently end up as part of the conversation, like when a fellow passenger on a Southwest flight bound from Phoenix to OKC wanted to share photos of her dead baby.
That was weird.
See why I wear headphones at all times now? But the writer in me still observes and hears that which I do not always want to observe or hear. It's a curse.
Monday, June 23, 2008
California Stars
I have a wonderful second family in Northern California, in an area about one hour North of Sacramento called Nevada City and Grass Valley.
I just returned from there, where I was part of a "present" for my dear "sister" Amy.
Her husband threw a surprise birthday party for her 30th birthday. They live in the art town of Chico.
I've known Amy and her family for about 17 years. (Her mother is my dear second mother Charlene, who I've blogged about before). Amy was in my and Dante's wedding.
We had so much fun! And the look on Amy's face when I walked up to her door was worth both our weights in gold. We hugged for so long and she cried. .... so utterly touching. I've never been part of that type of surprise before, and I've certainly never been the surprise. But it was priceless, one of those moments in life that is so special.
I'll have photos soon ....
I just returned from there, where I was part of a "present" for my dear "sister" Amy.
Her husband threw a surprise birthday party for her 30th birthday. They live in the art town of Chico.
I've known Amy and her family for about 17 years. (Her mother is my dear second mother Charlene, who I've blogged about before). Amy was in my and Dante's wedding.
We had so much fun! And the look on Amy's face when I walked up to her door was worth both our weights in gold. We hugged for so long and she cried. .... so utterly touching. I've never been part of that type of surprise before, and I've certainly never been the surprise. But it was priceless, one of those moments in life that is so special.
I'll have photos soon ....
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Where in the World....
...is Angie Mia DeRosa Giancola?
And you can't ask Dante.
I can't post it here, but I am headed somewhere on a plane in the United States. I know that surprises a lot of you that I'm traveling again. :-)
But I can't post it here because it's a surprise for one of my dear, dear friends who is known to read my blog.
But obviously, I won't be active on my blog because I will be in the mountains somewhere.
I will return to my normal blogging duties on Monday, June 23.
I will miss you, dear readers and dear blog.
Hint: Hillary won this state
And you can't ask Dante.
I can't post it here, but I am headed somewhere on a plane in the United States. I know that surprises a lot of you that I'm traveling again. :-)
But I can't post it here because it's a surprise for one of my dear, dear friends who is known to read my blog.
But obviously, I won't be active on my blog because I will be in the mountains somewhere.
I will return to my normal blogging duties on Monday, June 23.
I will miss you, dear readers and dear blog.
Hint: Hillary won this state
I've heard it again
One other person, now the second woman, has relayed to me that women should not be sports reporters.
Are you serious?
"Well, they don't play football, so they shouldn't report on it."
There are men who have never played football who report on it.
"Well, football is just for men. I have three sons and a husband and they just grasp football much better and men just have a better understanding of it so women shouldn't report on it."
So does that mean that men shouldn't be gynecologists or obstetricians?
By the way, thank goodness this person doesn't have daughters. I know many, many women who get such joy and understand football much better than some men I know who don't even like football (yes, I know men who don't like football). I also know women who don't like shopping and hair salons.
It's time for some women to get out of the 1920s.
There are two quotes I keep close at heart about gender: "There is a special place in hell for women who don't help each other." And, "Gender is an issue if you make it an issue."
Don't make it an issue.
Are you serious?
"Well, they don't play football, so they shouldn't report on it."
There are men who have never played football who report on it.
"Well, football is just for men. I have three sons and a husband and they just grasp football much better and men just have a better understanding of it so women shouldn't report on it."
So does that mean that men shouldn't be gynecologists or obstetricians?
By the way, thank goodness this person doesn't have daughters. I know many, many women who get such joy and understand football much better than some men I know who don't even like football (yes, I know men who don't like football). I also know women who don't like shopping and hair salons.
It's time for some women to get out of the 1920s.
There are two quotes I keep close at heart about gender: "There is a special place in hell for women who don't help each other." And, "Gender is an issue if you make it an issue."
Don't make it an issue.
Bikinis Make Men Stupid?
First, sorry to my male friends and the men who are reading my blog, because I have to post this. This is funny. Apparently, it's been scientifically proven that the vision of females in bikinis impair a man's ability to make wise decisions.
I have to give a disclaimer: I do not mean this posting as sexist or as any slight against men. I love you all, my friends, my brothers, my cousins, my husband, my co-workers.
But is this true, do you think? I want the men to weigh in here.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25197962/
I have to give a disclaimer: I do not mean this posting as sexist or as any slight against men. I love you all, my friends, my brothers, my cousins, my husband, my co-workers.
But is this true, do you think? I want the men to weigh in here.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25197962/
Monday, June 16, 2008
Why the Russert Coverage Matters
It had to come to this.
Journalists who had to find "the other side" questioning if the coverage on Russert's death has been too much.
http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/entertainment_tv_tvblog/2008/06/lessons-of-the.html
Here's why the Russert coverage has been elevated to such high levels, at least in my opinion, and I'm usually not a fan of broadcast media coverage. Russert's elevation is based on a careful combination of unique skills, unique position, unique enthusiasm, and a unique human being.
I would think that a true journalist, of all disciplines, would be able to consider the very special circumstances that surround this man, his life, his unexpected death and the legacy he leaves.
Oh, wait. Did I just expect a journalist to think? Oh, that's where my expectations were too high.
See, with Russert, we could have expectations. And that, my friends, was the difference.
I know this is difficult for some whiny journalists to fathom, but Russert wasn't fake. There wasn't a fake bone in that man's body. He exuded genuineness, and unfortunately, that is a rare thing in today's world of broadcast journalism. And that's why we needed him, especially the American people needed him.
1. It's an Election Year, and not just any election year. This is one of the most pivotal election years, dare I say, in the history of the United States. The Bush-Clinton era is OVER. No matter what happens in November, there is a new day dawning in the American presidency and in the history of the United States. Russert, for those of you who don't know your media history, has been one of the lead minds in covering elections, election debates, etc., and he did it on simple principles. Hold politicians accountable and keep it simple.
His boards (legal pads and dry erase boards) from the 2000 elections are in the Newseum in Washington, for a reason. Among the political world that I haunt, many people have commented that a politician knew that an appearance on Russert's show was a make-or-break matter.
2. Russert (lo and behold) WASN'T trained as a journalist. Why does this matter? He didn't think as a journalist and that's what made him stand out. He thought critically, analyzed thoughtfully. Teaching some of the older broadcast journalists to do that would be like teaching my 90-year-old grandmother the Internet. She has no use for it and she hasn't needed it thus far in her life. Why bother? Russert was the heavy hand in the broadcast world, the man who got it done. It's sort of like the head being cut off the body.
And Russert wasn't LAZY. So many of today's broadcast journalists are lazy. Who's going to take over for Russert? Olbermann doesn't want the job. It's not that we don't like Brokaw, but he didn't work to the same standard that Russert did. Brian Williams may be a suitable contender. Chris Matthews? Perhaps. Maybe Andrea Mitchell. Could be.
But at the end of the day, Russert had cajones and the respect of state and religious leaders that is unmatched. Why? Because they knew when they walked into an interview with Russert, they were going to be grilled, but they would also be treated with dignity and respect. And Russert went after the real answers because he listened to the concerns of average people.
Can you imagine Larry King in that post? "Um, Senator Obama, how did it feel to have a middle name like Hussein? I mean, did you actually KNOW Saddam?"
3. Russert raised the standard. Trust me, NBC news is PANICKING. They don't know who is going to replace him, and whoever does replace him will not have the viewer loyalty that Russert had. NBC is in trouble. They know it, especially in an Election Year.
4. This is a man who died in his prime and died suddenly with no warning. Although it was well known that he had heart disease, he had passed his stress test just a few months ago with flying colors. He was enjoying life. He just helped his son celebrate graduation from Boston College. He just got back from a family vacation in Italy.
The world had warning about Peter Jennings. The world is watching Brokaw age before them. It's not that we won't have the same reaction when Brokaw dies, but we know it's going to happen. No one knew it with Russert, and that makes all the difference, and you would have to be less than human and quite whiny not to recognize what sets this man's death apart.
5. People rooted for Russert and we all saw the light in his eyes. You couldn't help it. He pulled himself up on hard work and pure determination, passion and enthusiasm, and we met his family in the process. He was the American dream, and therefore, so much more than a broadcast journalist. For myself, I achieved upward mobility and I know what it's like to look at yourself and think, "Wow, I did this." Some days, I still can't even believe that I own a house or that I got to graduate school. For me, the little girl inside always is baffled. And everyone saw the little boy in Russert, that "Wow" component and that light in his eyes. Russert elevated himself on a level that was visible to millions; he showed us his heart and his warmth and his pure, unabashed love for politics, people and life. And that is what makes the Russert death worth covering.
He was one of us, a boy from Buffalo who made good and wanted the best for everyone. Do you feel that from any other broadcast journalist? Resoundingly, no.
That's why the coverage of Russert is what it is.
Journalists who had to find "the other side" questioning if the coverage on Russert's death has been too much.
http://blogs.orlandosentinel.com/entertainment_tv_tvblog/2008/06/lessons-of-the.html
Here's why the Russert coverage has been elevated to such high levels, at least in my opinion, and I'm usually not a fan of broadcast media coverage. Russert's elevation is based on a careful combination of unique skills, unique position, unique enthusiasm, and a unique human being.
I would think that a true journalist, of all disciplines, would be able to consider the very special circumstances that surround this man, his life, his unexpected death and the legacy he leaves.
Oh, wait. Did I just expect a journalist to think? Oh, that's where my expectations were too high.
See, with Russert, we could have expectations. And that, my friends, was the difference.
I know this is difficult for some whiny journalists to fathom, but Russert wasn't fake. There wasn't a fake bone in that man's body. He exuded genuineness, and unfortunately, that is a rare thing in today's world of broadcast journalism. And that's why we needed him, especially the American people needed him.
1. It's an Election Year, and not just any election year. This is one of the most pivotal election years, dare I say, in the history of the United States. The Bush-Clinton era is OVER. No matter what happens in November, there is a new day dawning in the American presidency and in the history of the United States. Russert, for those of you who don't know your media history, has been one of the lead minds in covering elections, election debates, etc., and he did it on simple principles. Hold politicians accountable and keep it simple.
His boards (legal pads and dry erase boards) from the 2000 elections are in the Newseum in Washington, for a reason. Among the political world that I haunt, many people have commented that a politician knew that an appearance on Russert's show was a make-or-break matter.
2. Russert (lo and behold) WASN'T trained as a journalist. Why does this matter? He didn't think as a journalist and that's what made him stand out. He thought critically, analyzed thoughtfully. Teaching some of the older broadcast journalists to do that would be like teaching my 90-year-old grandmother the Internet. She has no use for it and she hasn't needed it thus far in her life. Why bother? Russert was the heavy hand in the broadcast world, the man who got it done. It's sort of like the head being cut off the body.
And Russert wasn't LAZY. So many of today's broadcast journalists are lazy. Who's going to take over for Russert? Olbermann doesn't want the job. It's not that we don't like Brokaw, but he didn't work to the same standard that Russert did. Brian Williams may be a suitable contender. Chris Matthews? Perhaps. Maybe Andrea Mitchell. Could be.
But at the end of the day, Russert had cajones and the respect of state and religious leaders that is unmatched. Why? Because they knew when they walked into an interview with Russert, they were going to be grilled, but they would also be treated with dignity and respect. And Russert went after the real answers because he listened to the concerns of average people.
Can you imagine Larry King in that post? "Um, Senator Obama, how did it feel to have a middle name like Hussein? I mean, did you actually KNOW Saddam?"
3. Russert raised the standard. Trust me, NBC news is PANICKING. They don't know who is going to replace him, and whoever does replace him will not have the viewer loyalty that Russert had. NBC is in trouble. They know it, especially in an Election Year.
4. This is a man who died in his prime and died suddenly with no warning. Although it was well known that he had heart disease, he had passed his stress test just a few months ago with flying colors. He was enjoying life. He just helped his son celebrate graduation from Boston College. He just got back from a family vacation in Italy.
The world had warning about Peter Jennings. The world is watching Brokaw age before them. It's not that we won't have the same reaction when Brokaw dies, but we know it's going to happen. No one knew it with Russert, and that makes all the difference, and you would have to be less than human and quite whiny not to recognize what sets this man's death apart.
5. People rooted for Russert and we all saw the light in his eyes. You couldn't help it. He pulled himself up on hard work and pure determination, passion and enthusiasm, and we met his family in the process. He was the American dream, and therefore, so much more than a broadcast journalist. For myself, I achieved upward mobility and I know what it's like to look at yourself and think, "Wow, I did this." Some days, I still can't even believe that I own a house or that I got to graduate school. For me, the little girl inside always is baffled. And everyone saw the little boy in Russert, that "Wow" component and that light in his eyes. Russert elevated himself on a level that was visible to millions; he showed us his heart and his warmth and his pure, unabashed love for politics, people and life. And that is what makes the Russert death worth covering.
He was one of us, a boy from Buffalo who made good and wanted the best for everyone. Do you feel that from any other broadcast journalist? Resoundingly, no.
That's why the coverage of Russert is what it is.
Friday, June 13, 2008
God Bless You Tim Russert
Tom Brokaw ended his memorial broadcast tonight with, "Do me a favor. Say a prayer for Brother Timmy. Tip a cold one. And go Bills."
Russert's own quote was played on MSNBC this evening, "To be the son of a garbage man and to become moderator of Meet the Press. Only in America."
God bless you, Tim Russert. You left a legacy that will be difficult for anyone to match.
Russert's own quote was played on MSNBC this evening, "To be the son of a garbage man and to become moderator of Meet the Press. Only in America."
God bless you, Tim Russert. You left a legacy that will be difficult for anyone to match.
Our Fathers
As Father Day approaches, I am sentimental once again.
I always miss my own father.
But I have to pay tribute to the men who have fathered me since my dad's passing 25 years ago and I have to provide a voice of confidence to those who are missing their own fathers this year. (Miss Maddie, this is for you).
After my own father died, I had my Uncle Charlie, who was my father's brother; my Uncle Larry who was my dad's business partner, and my Uncle Ken, who was my God father.
Uncle Charlie died just a few years after my dad.
Uncle Larry and Uncle Ken both died in 2000, just six weeks apart.
I miss you all every day.
I remember Hiram Rodriquez, the unlikely neighbor who became one of my favorite people over the years as he became one of the closest friends our family would ever have. He'd make the best Puerto Rican rice and he taught me to love avocadoes. He taught me Spanish when I was a child, though I forget a lot of it. We'd sing and dance as Milan Vukovich played the accordion in my grandmother's kitchen.
Milan was another family friend from Hungary.
I had the most wonderful multi-cultural upbringing. Hiram and Milan have long since passed. I have the photos of Milan holding me as a toddler, reminders of the marks these men have left on my life.
With Uncle Larry "Bud" Himes, he was the man who walked me down the aisle when I was married to Dante. It was so utterly fitting because he was the man who taught me how to walk. I wouldn't walk as a toddler (imagine that, I was stubborn!) but one day, out of the blue, Uncle Bud came over and held out his hand and I took it, lifting myself up on my chubby toddler legs and walking by his side.
He ran a record store in Cleveland for years, and he instilled in me a great love for music.
I remember helping him sort records and how he'd teach me about the greatest country artists, because his favorite music was country.
Into my adulthood, I have been so blessed with two incredible men.
Tony and Al, I cannot ever say enough for what you've meant in my life over the past 11 years. I have been so blessed with both of you.
For those of you who don't know, Tony is Dante's stepdad and therefore one of my fathers in law. Al is Dante's biological father, and my other father in law.
I always tell Dante I got so blessed by having two fathers in law. It's as if God made up for my own father's early death.
Al taught me how to enjoy red wine with a meal; I never was much of a red wine drinker until I met Al. He taught me that the best way to enjoy a steak is medium rare. This Father's Day is particularly special because Al ended up in the hospital a few months ago and has been recovering nicely since. We can be ornery together. We play vicious word games and I am one of the only people who can beat him at Scrabble.
It wasn't always that way. His line of thinking made me so much better.
To Tony, who has taught me so much, whose presence at my mother's bedside as she died meant more than he'll ever know. He stood by my side as I planned my mother's funeral. He has made me laugh even at the darkest times. He taught me to always hunt for a bargain and that a price always can be negotiated, even on a funeral.
We have run together, biked together, kayaked together. We have helped each other through numerous surgeries and injuries. When I accidentally used the wrong solution with trying to put in my contacts, Tony was the person who had to flush my eye and get the contact out.
Trust me, that wasn't an easy day for Tony.
We've fought with each other and screamed at each other. We've done home repair together. Tony is one of the most talented home repair people anyone will ever meet. He is also one of the most talented artists.
See why I am so blessed? I wish you both the happiest Father's Day.
I always miss my own father.
But I have to pay tribute to the men who have fathered me since my dad's passing 25 years ago and I have to provide a voice of confidence to those who are missing their own fathers this year. (Miss Maddie, this is for you).
After my own father died, I had my Uncle Charlie, who was my father's brother; my Uncle Larry who was my dad's business partner, and my Uncle Ken, who was my God father.
Uncle Charlie died just a few years after my dad.
Uncle Larry and Uncle Ken both died in 2000, just six weeks apart.
I miss you all every day.
I remember Hiram Rodriquez, the unlikely neighbor who became one of my favorite people over the years as he became one of the closest friends our family would ever have. He'd make the best Puerto Rican rice and he taught me to love avocadoes. He taught me Spanish when I was a child, though I forget a lot of it. We'd sing and dance as Milan Vukovich played the accordion in my grandmother's kitchen.
Milan was another family friend from Hungary.
I had the most wonderful multi-cultural upbringing. Hiram and Milan have long since passed. I have the photos of Milan holding me as a toddler, reminders of the marks these men have left on my life.
With Uncle Larry "Bud" Himes, he was the man who walked me down the aisle when I was married to Dante. It was so utterly fitting because he was the man who taught me how to walk. I wouldn't walk as a toddler (imagine that, I was stubborn!) but one day, out of the blue, Uncle Bud came over and held out his hand and I took it, lifting myself up on my chubby toddler legs and walking by his side.
He ran a record store in Cleveland for years, and he instilled in me a great love for music.
I remember helping him sort records and how he'd teach me about the greatest country artists, because his favorite music was country.
Into my adulthood, I have been so blessed with two incredible men.
Tony and Al, I cannot ever say enough for what you've meant in my life over the past 11 years. I have been so blessed with both of you.
For those of you who don't know, Tony is Dante's stepdad and therefore one of my fathers in law. Al is Dante's biological father, and my other father in law.
I always tell Dante I got so blessed by having two fathers in law. It's as if God made up for my own father's early death.
Al taught me how to enjoy red wine with a meal; I never was much of a red wine drinker until I met Al. He taught me that the best way to enjoy a steak is medium rare. This Father's Day is particularly special because Al ended up in the hospital a few months ago and has been recovering nicely since. We can be ornery together. We play vicious word games and I am one of the only people who can beat him at Scrabble.
It wasn't always that way. His line of thinking made me so much better.
To Tony, who has taught me so much, whose presence at my mother's bedside as she died meant more than he'll ever know. He stood by my side as I planned my mother's funeral. He has made me laugh even at the darkest times. He taught me to always hunt for a bargain and that a price always can be negotiated, even on a funeral.
We have run together, biked together, kayaked together. We have helped each other through numerous surgeries and injuries. When I accidentally used the wrong solution with trying to put in my contacts, Tony was the person who had to flush my eye and get the contact out.
Trust me, that wasn't an easy day for Tony.
We've fought with each other and screamed at each other. We've done home repair together. Tony is one of the most talented home repair people anyone will ever meet. He is also one of the most talented artists.
See why I am so blessed? I wish you both the happiest Father's Day.
More on Russert
As you may have guessed by now, Tim Russert AKA "Little Russ" was one of my heroes.
Trust me, I do not have many heroes in my life. It's very difficult to find someone to look up to, although I can pinpoint a few.
Russert was one of those people.
He thought outside the box. That sounds so cliched, but he wasn't your ordinary journalist. He was not schooled as a journalist. He thought differently and wanted things to be different.
And that is how he gained so much respect.
Dante and I sat at dinner tonight, discussing how there is no heir apparent. None.
There is a letter missing in the alphabet, a hole in American broadcast journalism that can never be filled.
Who will take over for Russert in a pivotal Election Year?
Who will take the politicians to task so effortlessly and be able to smile about it in the morning?
Trust me, there is no answer.
Trust me, I do not have many heroes in my life. It's very difficult to find someone to look up to, although I can pinpoint a few.
Russert was one of those people.
He thought outside the box. That sounds so cliched, but he wasn't your ordinary journalist. He was not schooled as a journalist. He thought differently and wanted things to be different.
And that is how he gained so much respect.
Dante and I sat at dinner tonight, discussing how there is no heir apparent. None.
There is a letter missing in the alphabet, a hole in American broadcast journalism that can never be filled.
Who will take over for Russert in a pivotal Election Year?
Who will take the politicians to task so effortlessly and be able to smile about it in the morning?
Trust me, there is no answer.
Like the Loss of a Friend
Russert's death is like the loss of a friend.
His was such a disarming style that watchers felt like they were in the presence of a friend as you watched him on "Meet the Press."
"He had great clarity of vision," Tom Brokaw said in his broadcast.
He got to law school on sort of a fluke; from a working class family, someone saw his potential and loaned him the money.
Russert paid it back.
He always has reminded me a lot of myself. He worked so hard to get where he was and was so grateful every day for where he was in his life. He was so passionate but never, ever forgot where he came from, the strides that he made. His family was the core of this world, and no matter what, no matter how involved he was, he would drop anything when it came to his family.
His father still is alive and his wife Maureen and son Luke are on their way home from Italy, where Russert was with them earlier this week. They were celebrating Luke's graduation from Boston College.
His was such a disarming style that watchers felt like they were in the presence of a friend as you watched him on "Meet the Press."
"He had great clarity of vision," Tom Brokaw said in his broadcast.
He got to law school on sort of a fluke; from a working class family, someone saw his potential and loaned him the money.
Russert paid it back.
He always has reminded me a lot of myself. He worked so hard to get where he was and was so grateful every day for where he was in his life. He was so passionate but never, ever forgot where he came from, the strides that he made. His family was the core of this world, and no matter what, no matter how involved he was, he would drop anything when it came to his family.
His father still is alive and his wife Maureen and son Luke are on their way home from Italy, where Russert was with them earlier this week. They were celebrating Luke's graduation from Boston College.
I Am Shocked
Of all things America needed this Election Year was Tim Russert's NO HOLDS BARRED reporting style.
Russert, 58, of Buffalo, N.Y., was from a working-class Irish Catholic family. He went to school at John Carroll University in Cleveland, Ohio, and law school at Cleveland-Marshall School of Law.
I know a lot more about him, but I cannot write right now. I am too shocked.
If nothing else, read "Big Russ and Me," which Russert wrote a few years ago.
Russert, 58, of Buffalo, N.Y., was from a working-class Irish Catholic family. He went to school at John Carroll University in Cleveland, Ohio, and law school at Cleveland-Marshall School of Law.
I know a lot more about him, but I cannot write right now. I am too shocked.
If nothing else, read "Big Russ and Me," which Russert wrote a few years ago.
The Meaning of Laughter
A woman in Florida was fired for laughing too loud.
Check out the story: http://www.local6.com/news/16594550/detail.html
People, honestly, life is too short to stop other people from laughing.
I myself have what I have been told is a "trademark" laugh.
Truth be told, it gets on a lot of people's nerves. I know this. I have been told it's a "cackle."
But quite honestly, I don't care. And as I get older, I REALLY don't care.
It's not that I want to be rude. I don't. It's just MY LAUGH. It's loud and proud, just like me.
As a matter of fact, people have found me just on my laugh alone.
True story. Dante and I were in Lowe's Garden Center one day, and one of our friends found us in the store because she heard my laugh.
She said, "We knew that had to be Angie."
Now, that's useful.
For example, if I fell down a hill in a rain forest, I could laugh from the bottom and many, many people would hear me and therefore, find me.
I've spread my laugh far and wide. At each of my jobs that I've left, people have always told me, "We're going to miss Angie's laugh."
A former co-worker at Plastics News tape-recorded my laugh when I left my job there. That's flattering, or odd, depending on one's perspective. But I'm an optimist. I always see the glass as half full. I like to think that people get a kick out of hearing my laugh, more than annoyance.
Truth be told, though, my laugh tends to get on the nerves of Okies. I will not go into detail on this one. Let's just say that we've had our "incidents."
Part of me thinks that most people don't laugh often enough, and these are the grumps who fire others for laughing and/or make rude comments about the laugh of others.
To the sourpusses: I'm sorry that you haven't been able to cultivate a wonderful glowing garden within yourself. That's sad. May I suggest laughter as a fertilizer?
And hence, the quote by which I live my life, "TO LAUGH OFTEN AND MUCH; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition. To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded." (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
So, go forward and LAUGH. Laugh loud and proud and don't diminish your spirit because of some sourpuss.
Check out the story: http://www.local6.com/news/16594550/detail.html
People, honestly, life is too short to stop other people from laughing.
I myself have what I have been told is a "trademark" laugh.
Truth be told, it gets on a lot of people's nerves. I know this. I have been told it's a "cackle."
But quite honestly, I don't care. And as I get older, I REALLY don't care.
It's not that I want to be rude. I don't. It's just MY LAUGH. It's loud and proud, just like me.
As a matter of fact, people have found me just on my laugh alone.
True story. Dante and I were in Lowe's Garden Center one day, and one of our friends found us in the store because she heard my laugh.
She said, "We knew that had to be Angie."
Now, that's useful.
For example, if I fell down a hill in a rain forest, I could laugh from the bottom and many, many people would hear me and therefore, find me.
I've spread my laugh far and wide. At each of my jobs that I've left, people have always told me, "We're going to miss Angie's laugh."
A former co-worker at Plastics News tape-recorded my laugh when I left my job there. That's flattering, or odd, depending on one's perspective. But I'm an optimist. I always see the glass as half full. I like to think that people get a kick out of hearing my laugh, more than annoyance.
Truth be told, though, my laugh tends to get on the nerves of Okies. I will not go into detail on this one. Let's just say that we've had our "incidents."
Part of me thinks that most people don't laugh often enough, and these are the grumps who fire others for laughing and/or make rude comments about the laugh of others.
To the sourpusses: I'm sorry that you haven't been able to cultivate a wonderful glowing garden within yourself. That's sad. May I suggest laughter as a fertilizer?
And hence, the quote by which I live my life, "TO LAUGH OFTEN AND MUCH; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition. To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded." (Ralph Waldo Emerson)
So, go forward and LAUGH. Laugh loud and proud and don't diminish your spirit because of some sourpuss.
"The Earth Does Not Have a Fever"
I do not believe in global warming.
Let me repeat that.
I do not believe in global warming.
I think it's an emotion-fueled propaganda machine that is being used by liberals for fear mongering and money-related issues about which I will not go into great detail here.
Let's just say that if we want to help the world's poor and solve key issues like hunger and disease among our fellow humans, society at large needs to get off these silly bandwagons and use funds for other measures.
That means the government. As pointed out in the speech I've linked to below, this speculation, this panic, this insane addiction to gauging the Earth's temperature, is causing a lot of the pricing problems we're having today with food and gas.
I could do a detailed economic analysis for you, but I'll spare you the torture.
"So now the global warming myth actually has lead to the chaos we are now enduring with energy and food prices," Weather Channel founder John Coleman says in his speech linked to below. "We pay for it every time we fill our gas tanks. Not only is it running up gasoline prices, it has changed government policy impacting our taxes, our utility bills and the entire focus of government funding. And, now the Congress is considering a cap and trade carbon credits policy. We the citizens will pay for that, too. It all ends up in our taxes and the price of goods and services."
Let me remind you (here is a slight tax bandwagon) but the reason Europeans have paid high fuel prices for so long is because the pricing structure of their entire gasoline price is based on roughly 60 percent taxes.
Read that as: 60 percent of the price of a gallon of gas in Europe goes to taxes alone.
In the United States, that only has been 12 percent.
Stark, stark contrast, right?
Seriously.
So you can imagine my relief when I saw this:
http://www.kusi.com/weather/colemanscorner/19842304.html
It's a speech given by the Weather Channel founder to the San Diego Chamber of Commerce.
I have more where this came from; I've just been saving it up.
Let me repeat that.
I do not believe in global warming.
I think it's an emotion-fueled propaganda machine that is being used by liberals for fear mongering and money-related issues about which I will not go into great detail here.
Let's just say that if we want to help the world's poor and solve key issues like hunger and disease among our fellow humans, society at large needs to get off these silly bandwagons and use funds for other measures.
That means the government. As pointed out in the speech I've linked to below, this speculation, this panic, this insane addiction to gauging the Earth's temperature, is causing a lot of the pricing problems we're having today with food and gas.
I could do a detailed economic analysis for you, but I'll spare you the torture.
"So now the global warming myth actually has lead to the chaos we are now enduring with energy and food prices," Weather Channel founder John Coleman says in his speech linked to below. "We pay for it every time we fill our gas tanks. Not only is it running up gasoline prices, it has changed government policy impacting our taxes, our utility bills and the entire focus of government funding. And, now the Congress is considering a cap and trade carbon credits policy. We the citizens will pay for that, too. It all ends up in our taxes and the price of goods and services."
Let me remind you (here is a slight tax bandwagon) but the reason Europeans have paid high fuel prices for so long is because the pricing structure of their entire gasoline price is based on roughly 60 percent taxes.
Read that as: 60 percent of the price of a gallon of gas in Europe goes to taxes alone.
In the United States, that only has been 12 percent.
Stark, stark contrast, right?
Seriously.
So you can imagine my relief when I saw this:
http://www.kusi.com/weather/colemanscorner/19842304.html
It's a speech given by the Weather Channel founder to the San Diego Chamber of Commerce.
I have more where this came from; I've just been saving it up.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
The Habit Challenge
I have some shocking news, dear readers, which I know will come as a total surprise.
I have quit chai.
After nearly 8 years, 3 months, 2 days, 12 hours and 23 minutes, I have kicked my daily chai habit. I think it was discovery of the sugar content that shocked me. In the amount I was drinking, there was 1/3 cup of sugar.
Yuck.
I feel like I belong in a 12-step program for recovering addicts. Chai was like my life force, my constant companion, my blanky if I were Linus.
I feel like Forrest Gump in the movie of the same name, when he ran and ran and ran and gathered all those followers.
Then, one day, he was just done.
Much like Dante with his 10-year cigarette habit. He tried for years to quit, then one day, he was just done. He didn't want to do it anymore.
The truth is, I've never been much of an addict. If I had the addiction gene, life in Oklahoma would have turned me into an alcoholic long ago. It's not that life on the prairie is that bad, it's that there is literally nothing else to do (according to some folks) than to drink.
Nay, nay, I say.
I smoked cigarettes way back when, but I never liked the feeling of being hostage to anything. Plus, I never liked stinking.
Then, you watch a few relatives drop like flies from lung cancer, and it puts things into perspective. No one needs a cigarette that badly.
So I stand here before you today, clean as a whistle, and proud that I've dropped the habit. Now, I challenge all of you to pick one thing you do that's a bad habit and STOP IT.
Find out what works for you in order to stop it. And do it.
I'm standing here today a reformed woman. If I can quit chai, anyone can quit anything.
I have quit chai.
After nearly 8 years, 3 months, 2 days, 12 hours and 23 minutes, I have kicked my daily chai habit. I think it was discovery of the sugar content that shocked me. In the amount I was drinking, there was 1/3 cup of sugar.
Yuck.
I feel like I belong in a 12-step program for recovering addicts. Chai was like my life force, my constant companion, my blanky if I were Linus.
I feel like Forrest Gump in the movie of the same name, when he ran and ran and ran and gathered all those followers.
Then, one day, he was just done.
Much like Dante with his 10-year cigarette habit. He tried for years to quit, then one day, he was just done. He didn't want to do it anymore.
The truth is, I've never been much of an addict. If I had the addiction gene, life in Oklahoma would have turned me into an alcoholic long ago. It's not that life on the prairie is that bad, it's that there is literally nothing else to do (according to some folks) than to drink.
Nay, nay, I say.
I smoked cigarettes way back when, but I never liked the feeling of being hostage to anything. Plus, I never liked stinking.
Then, you watch a few relatives drop like flies from lung cancer, and it puts things into perspective. No one needs a cigarette that badly.
So I stand here before you today, clean as a whistle, and proud that I've dropped the habit. Now, I challenge all of you to pick one thing you do that's a bad habit and STOP IT.
Find out what works for you in order to stop it. And do it.
I'm standing here today a reformed woman. If I can quit chai, anyone can quit anything.
Mother and Baby
There is nothing I love more on this Earth than seeing a mother look at her baby for the first time. There is no poem, no short story, that can match a photo.
I don't know Marsha Griswold, but I used to work with her husband Matt who sent over this photo this morning.
(Told you all, if you send me photos and they touch me, I'm posting them on this site). :-)
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
A Special Place in Hell
There's very little in life that disturbs me on such a level that I feel sick to my stomach and/or my sleep is disturbed.
I remember feeling that way on Sept. 11, 2001, as I shared a van ride home from Philadelphia with other media professionals from Penton Media in Cleveland.
Two things have happened this week, both in Oklahoma, that have caused this feeling in me.
For those of you who are news watchers, you likely have seen that two young Oklahoma girls were killed in cold blood in a town about 90 miles east of Oklahoma City.
Best friends, ages 11 and 13, were shot by two different guns as they were walking along a road that they were apparently used to walking. They were best friends out doing those things that best friends do, likely just walking and talking.
And someone, some evil asshole, shot them in cold blood.
This is when I wished that we could let the family and neighbors practice death by firing squad. It's not legal in Oklahoma, but it is in Utah.
The second incident doesn't involve humans, but it involves destruction of life and it's sickening though not on the level of killing two young human girls (but be warned, you may not want to read any further). I skipped the news story initially, but then I forced Dante to tell me about it.
There is a beautiful lake in Oklahoma City called Lake Hefner. It's man-made. On a beautiful day, you walk around Lake Hefner and you admire the sail boats and the parasailors and you enjoy the wildlife. The birds, the turtles, the dogs, etc.
Some idiot went through that park and pulled down nests of cliff swallows and stomped the babies to death. Officials found one baby bird alive out of 186 birds.
There is a special place in hell for this person. May you, whoever you are, never have another day of peace so long as you should walk this Earth.
I remember feeling that way on Sept. 11, 2001, as I shared a van ride home from Philadelphia with other media professionals from Penton Media in Cleveland.
Two things have happened this week, both in Oklahoma, that have caused this feeling in me.
For those of you who are news watchers, you likely have seen that two young Oklahoma girls were killed in cold blood in a town about 90 miles east of Oklahoma City.
Best friends, ages 11 and 13, were shot by two different guns as they were walking along a road that they were apparently used to walking. They were best friends out doing those things that best friends do, likely just walking and talking.
And someone, some evil asshole, shot them in cold blood.
This is when I wished that we could let the family and neighbors practice death by firing squad. It's not legal in Oklahoma, but it is in Utah.
The second incident doesn't involve humans, but it involves destruction of life and it's sickening though not on the level of killing two young human girls (but be warned, you may not want to read any further). I skipped the news story initially, but then I forced Dante to tell me about it.
There is a beautiful lake in Oklahoma City called Lake Hefner. It's man-made. On a beautiful day, you walk around Lake Hefner and you admire the sail boats and the parasailors and you enjoy the wildlife. The birds, the turtles, the dogs, etc.
Some idiot went through that park and pulled down nests of cliff swallows and stomped the babies to death. Officials found one baby bird alive out of 186 birds.
There is a special place in hell for this person. May you, whoever you are, never have another day of peace so long as you should walk this Earth.
Another Baby!
Congratulations to Matt and Marsha Griswold on the birth of their son who was born via C section at 8:24 p.m. this evening in Ohio.
The excited father texted me and said that the baby likely will be named Owen Matthew Griswold and he weighed 7 pounds 13 ounces.
Matt reports that the baby "is freaking beautiful."
The excited father texted me and said that the baby likely will be named Owen Matthew Griswold and he weighed 7 pounds 13 ounces.
Matt reports that the baby "is freaking beautiful."
The Hippie In Me
I've always told people I'm part Hippie. Quite frankly (as an aside) if I truly believed peace could live in the souls of all men and women, I would indeed be a pacifist.
But there's reality, and then there is my idealism that exists in the Hippie side of me.
Now, here is where you see it coming out. I urge you to check out a newly released CD called "One," put together by an instrumentalist named Jamshied Sharifi.
The CD is a compilation of worldwide voices, a wonderfully sensuous, ethereal mix that is as spiritually soothing as it is uplifting. He united voices from all over the world, inlcuding Paula Cole, Sussan Deyhim and Yungchen Lhamo.
The CD is sold through www.cdbaby.com, which is based out of Portland, Ore. CD Baby only sells music from independent musicians, and therefore the musicians get a nice, big slice of the money because it's not being filtered through a corporation.
So check it out. Even if you don't like One, CD Baby sells many other CDs you may never have discovered!
But there's reality, and then there is my idealism that exists in the Hippie side of me.
Now, here is where you see it coming out. I urge you to check out a newly released CD called "One," put together by an instrumentalist named Jamshied Sharifi.
The CD is a compilation of worldwide voices, a wonderfully sensuous, ethereal mix that is as spiritually soothing as it is uplifting. He united voices from all over the world, inlcuding Paula Cole, Sussan Deyhim and Yungchen Lhamo.
The CD is sold through www.cdbaby.com, which is based out of Portland, Ore. CD Baby only sells music from independent musicians, and therefore the musicians get a nice, big slice of the money because it's not being filtered through a corporation.
So check it out. Even if you don't like One, CD Baby sells many other CDs you may never have discovered!
Friday, June 6, 2008
The Case for Common Sense
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25002611/
By now, you've likely heard that foreclosures on homes are even impacting celebrities like Ed McMahon.
The irony of course is that McMahon spent years helping others win millions, and now a confluence of factors has affected his ability to pay his own mortgage.
But (how refreshing) McMahon isn't playing the blame game.
In an interview with Larry King, McMahon said poor planning on his own part led to his current situation. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying that the subprime mess that's sweeping the nation isn't a factor.
It is, of course.
But financial responsibility starts at home.
If you are living beyond your means, as McMahon confesses he did, it's only a matter of time before the math catches up with you. Pamela McMahon is alongside Ed, confessing that they could have done a better job handling their finances.
From a personal standpoint, we watched many of our friends buy homes that they just simply couldn't afford. Everybody was being approved. As a matter of fact, a friend who had no traceable income and was living on student loans was approved to buy a home. And that person did buy a home with a loan that was based on an adjustable interest rate.
There was something fundamentally wrong with this picture, and now we're seeing the fallout.
You know what you can afford. Be your own financial planner and the one who knows the most about your finances.
If you can't afford to own a home, there is no rush, trust me. Dante and I have been married for 10 years and we didn't buy a home until we had been married for seven years.
You have to live with the consquences of your own financial decisions. DON'T BE STUPID.
LIVE BY THE PERCENTAGE RULE
Don't agree to a payment on a house or apartment or condo that is 25 percent or more of your total household income.
FAMILIARIZE YOURSELF WITH THE OTHER EXPENSES ASSOCIATED WITH HOME OWNERSHIP
Owning a house requires so much more than the mortgage payment; it's the upkeep; it's the homeowners' association annual fee if you happen to live in a neighborhood that has a homeowners' association; it's the lawn and landscape care, especially if you have to hire someone to come in and do the work for you.
It's the utilities, etc.
I can go on and on here; you have to do an analysis of the fixed and variable costs of home ownership. What are those costs that are stable month to month or what are the variable costs that will change depending on the season? Before you buy the property, ask the current owners to show you one year's history of utility bills.
Remember geography. The expense of home ownership varies by state, of course. In Oklahoma, we have to have annual pest inspections for pests like carpenter ants and termites.
KNOW YOUR HOME THE BEST, ESPECIALLY WHEN THE APPRAISAL IS TAKING PLACE
Show up. Ask questions. Be nosy. Moreover, be the expert on the property you are about to acquire.
KNOW YOUR OWN CREDIT SCORE AND HISTORY
If you know you deserve a better interest rate on your loan, negotiate for it. We're talking a 20 or 30 year mortgage where interest rate can mean everything.
DON'T FORGET FUTURE PLANNING
If you are buying a home based on two incomes (assuming your income and that of your wife/husband/partner), how long will your household be a two-income household?
That is, can you afford your mortgage if there is a job loss; you decide to have a baby and want to stay home; or if you decide or your significant other decides he or she wants to go back to school.
By now, you've likely heard that foreclosures on homes are even impacting celebrities like Ed McMahon.
The irony of course is that McMahon spent years helping others win millions, and now a confluence of factors has affected his ability to pay his own mortgage.
But (how refreshing) McMahon isn't playing the blame game.
In an interview with Larry King, McMahon said poor planning on his own part led to his current situation. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying that the subprime mess that's sweeping the nation isn't a factor.
It is, of course.
But financial responsibility starts at home.
If you are living beyond your means, as McMahon confesses he did, it's only a matter of time before the math catches up with you. Pamela McMahon is alongside Ed, confessing that they could have done a better job handling their finances.
From a personal standpoint, we watched many of our friends buy homes that they just simply couldn't afford. Everybody was being approved. As a matter of fact, a friend who had no traceable income and was living on student loans was approved to buy a home. And that person did buy a home with a loan that was based on an adjustable interest rate.
There was something fundamentally wrong with this picture, and now we're seeing the fallout.
You know what you can afford. Be your own financial planner and the one who knows the most about your finances.
If you can't afford to own a home, there is no rush, trust me. Dante and I have been married for 10 years and we didn't buy a home until we had been married for seven years.
You have to live with the consquences of your own financial decisions. DON'T BE STUPID.
LIVE BY THE PERCENTAGE RULE
Don't agree to a payment on a house or apartment or condo that is 25 percent or more of your total household income.
FAMILIARIZE YOURSELF WITH THE OTHER EXPENSES ASSOCIATED WITH HOME OWNERSHIP
Owning a house requires so much more than the mortgage payment; it's the upkeep; it's the homeowners' association annual fee if you happen to live in a neighborhood that has a homeowners' association; it's the lawn and landscape care, especially if you have to hire someone to come in and do the work for you.
It's the utilities, etc.
I can go on and on here; you have to do an analysis of the fixed and variable costs of home ownership. What are those costs that are stable month to month or what are the variable costs that will change depending on the season? Before you buy the property, ask the current owners to show you one year's history of utility bills.
Remember geography. The expense of home ownership varies by state, of course. In Oklahoma, we have to have annual pest inspections for pests like carpenter ants and termites.
KNOW YOUR HOME THE BEST, ESPECIALLY WHEN THE APPRAISAL IS TAKING PLACE
Show up. Ask questions. Be nosy. Moreover, be the expert on the property you are about to acquire.
KNOW YOUR OWN CREDIT SCORE AND HISTORY
If you know you deserve a better interest rate on your loan, negotiate for it. We're talking a 20 or 30 year mortgage where interest rate can mean everything.
DON'T FORGET FUTURE PLANNING
If you are buying a home based on two incomes (assuming your income and that of your wife/husband/partner), how long will your household be a two-income household?
That is, can you afford your mortgage if there is a job loss; you decide to have a baby and want to stay home; or if you decide or your significant other decides he or she wants to go back to school.
When It's Embarrassing
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,363615,00.html
See what happens when there's a misspelling? Check this out.
Next lesson from me will be the difference between "its" and "it's" and the fact that "of" is not a replacement for "have" in a contraction such as "I would've completed my chores, but I had to correct all my misspelled words."
See what happens when there's a misspelling? Check this out.
Next lesson from me will be the difference between "its" and "it's" and the fact that "of" is not a replacement for "have" in a contraction such as "I would've completed my chores, but I had to correct all my misspelled words."
Thursday, June 5, 2008
The Land of Severe Weather
As I'm writing this, we're experiencing severe weather again. We're talking 80 MPH winds with rain and lightening and of course thunder. No tornadoes. Yet. The wind decided to play all over the place rather than forming into a funnel.
I'm talking wind gushing across the prairie that will wipe you off the map. It's humbling, really. Apparently, Oklahoma City had four minor earthquakes today, too.
People here in Oklahoma embrace it, though, I must say. As a matter of fact, folks here have a drinking game in honor of a local weatherman named Gary England.
People watch England during the storms and whenever he says certain words or phrases (wall cloud, lightening, "Watch Out, flying Okie") you have to drink a shot.
Yes, really.
Dante passed out after the fourth mention of "Watch out, flying cow."
I'm talking wind gushing across the prairie that will wipe you off the map. It's humbling, really. Apparently, Oklahoma City had four minor earthquakes today, too.
People here in Oklahoma embrace it, though, I must say. As a matter of fact, folks here have a drinking game in honor of a local weatherman named Gary England.
People watch England during the storms and whenever he says certain words or phrases (wall cloud, lightening, "Watch Out, flying Okie") you have to drink a shot.
Yes, really.
Dante passed out after the fourth mention of "Watch out, flying cow."
For the Love of Language Part Deux Addendum
That's it.
I've really had it.
I can't stand the disrespect for the English language.
I was driving north on I-35 and I saw an official (presumably) vehicle that was advertising its service.
HERB-O-RAMA
"Loose weight."
That's right. Herbo-o-Rama wants you to contact its service people who will teach you how to LOOSE weight.
And the owners paid money to have this painted on a van.
You LOSE weight. That is the proper verb version of the infinitive "to lose."
"Loose" is an ADJECTIVE.
Can you tell I'm losing my patience?
I've really had it.
I can't stand the disrespect for the English language.
I was driving north on I-35 and I saw an official (presumably) vehicle that was advertising its service.
HERB-O-RAMA
"Loose weight."
That's right. Herbo-o-Rama wants you to contact its service people who will teach you how to LOOSE weight.
And the owners paid money to have this painted on a van.
You LOSE weight. That is the proper verb version of the infinitive "to lose."
"Loose" is an ADJECTIVE.
Can you tell I'm losing my patience?
For The Love of Language Part Deux
Please do not glaze over.
Please don't glaze over. (You'll get this reference in a minute, trust me).
The lesson today is about helping verbs. More specifically, it's about the correct use of the helping verbs do, does, and did, especially in a negative construction where we may use "not" with the helping verb in the form of a contraction.
Do I bore you? I bet I don't.
Did she work today? She did not.
Or, no, she didn't. That is, she did not work today.
First, what led me to this, dear reader? I drive down highway 35 every day as I head to the University of Oklahoma.
And each day, I see a sign, and each day, it bothers me more and more.
The sign is for a barbeque joint run by a man named JR who decides to use this ad slogan, "It don't get no better than this."
It doesn't? I bet it does. Even though I'm in the South, "Nay, Nay, I say."
Let's break that down and see why that is an absolute abuse of the English language.
"It do not get no better than this."
First, the subject in the sentence is "it," so right off the bat we do not have subject-helping verb agreement.
Nay, nay, I say.
The appropriate helping verb is "does," and then the addition of our negative, "not."
Therefore, "It does not get no better than this."
BUT, wait. We have another glaring problem with this sentence. Which of these words doesn't belong? "IT DOES NOT GET NO BETTER THAN THIS."
JR, you're abusing the English language horribly and putting it on billboards so that Jane and Joe Q. Public thinks that is correct.
Shame on you!
Take away the double negative. "It doesn't not get better than this."
We can add a simple qualifier as well, if we want to provide more emphasis to the meaning of the sentence. "It doesn't get any better than this."
There. I feel much better now.
Please don't glaze over. (You'll get this reference in a minute, trust me).
The lesson today is about helping verbs. More specifically, it's about the correct use of the helping verbs do, does, and did, especially in a negative construction where we may use "not" with the helping verb in the form of a contraction.
Do I bore you? I bet I don't.
Did she work today? She did not.
Or, no, she didn't. That is, she did not work today.
First, what led me to this, dear reader? I drive down highway 35 every day as I head to the University of Oklahoma.
And each day, I see a sign, and each day, it bothers me more and more.
The sign is for a barbeque joint run by a man named JR who decides to use this ad slogan, "It don't get no better than this."
It doesn't? I bet it does. Even though I'm in the South, "Nay, Nay, I say."
Let's break that down and see why that is an absolute abuse of the English language.
"It do not get no better than this."
First, the subject in the sentence is "it," so right off the bat we do not have subject-helping verb agreement.
Nay, nay, I say.
The appropriate helping verb is "does," and then the addition of our negative, "not."
Therefore, "It does not get no better than this."
BUT, wait. We have another glaring problem with this sentence. Which of these words doesn't belong? "IT DOES NOT GET NO BETTER THAN THIS."
JR, you're abusing the English language horribly and putting it on billboards so that Jane and Joe Q. Public thinks that is correct.
Shame on you!
Take away the double negative. "It doesn't not get better than this."
We can add a simple qualifier as well, if we want to provide more emphasis to the meaning of the sentence. "It doesn't get any better than this."
There. I feel much better now.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Obama is in
No matter who got the nomination, this was a historic primary year.
But now, we know Obama is the candidate and Clinton supposedly is going to admit defeat shortly.
What will be interesting now is who Obama chooses as his veep. In any case, it will have to be someone who is very, very strong in foreign policy.
Obviously, the most pressing foreign policy issue is the war.
But there are plenty other foreign policy problems, those that I like to call the "undercurrents."
Pay attention now: The United States has all but been blamed for botching the Doha round of trade negotiations under the WTO.
But now, we know Obama is the candidate and Clinton supposedly is going to admit defeat shortly.
What will be interesting now is who Obama chooses as his veep. In any case, it will have to be someone who is very, very strong in foreign policy.
Obviously, the most pressing foreign policy issue is the war.
But there are plenty other foreign policy problems, those that I like to call the "undercurrents."
Pay attention now: The United States has all but been blamed for botching the Doha round of trade negotiations under the WTO.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
"Sex and the City" Delivers
So I did it.
I went to see "Sex and the City."
I try to avoid all things popular, and really, I try to navigate toward all things unique and unusual (Starbucks notwithstanding).
But I loved Sex.
I got wrapped into the movie like the best pair of Manolo Blanhiks. I felt like I was reuniting with four friends and catching up along the Mexican Riviera.
I read the reviews and the critiques. I read that Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) develops a relationship closer with her personal assistant (Jennifer Hudson) than that which she enjoys with her Fab Three, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte.
That particular critique obviously didn't take into consideration the meaning of youth and the ability of a younger person to shed light on an older (or middle-aged) person's heart.
It may sound cheesy, but the character of Louise (played by Jennifer Hudson) delivers in showing Carrie what loves means. In story telling, that was not going to come from Charlotte, Miranda or Samantha. The Fab Four, as it were, deliver in other areas as needed to move the story along.
It's just not how a story is built, especially in this case. I apologize if I am getting too technical, but it's the truth.
So we see Louise come into Carrie's life, provide a fresh perspective, and then ultimately permanently leave to go back to St. Louis where she is reunited with her ex-boyfriend, who she is going to marry.
She is very happy in choosing love for the long run, despite Carrie being presumably ditched at the altar by Big.
Carrie ultimately reunites with Big (Chris Noth) and that is the ultimate gesture of a complicated character who tries to play out her own life as if it's a storybook.
Charlotte's life plays out just as the life did of one of my own friends; the same with Miranda and Steve, who work throughout the movie to overcome Steve's infidelity.
Maybe that's the power of Sex. In it, we see so much of ourselves and the lives of our friends.
I went to see "Sex and the City."
I try to avoid all things popular, and really, I try to navigate toward all things unique and unusual (Starbucks notwithstanding).
But I loved Sex.
I got wrapped into the movie like the best pair of Manolo Blanhiks. I felt like I was reuniting with four friends and catching up along the Mexican Riviera.
I read the reviews and the critiques. I read that Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) develops a relationship closer with her personal assistant (Jennifer Hudson) than that which she enjoys with her Fab Three, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte.
That particular critique obviously didn't take into consideration the meaning of youth and the ability of a younger person to shed light on an older (or middle-aged) person's heart.
It may sound cheesy, but the character of Louise (played by Jennifer Hudson) delivers in showing Carrie what loves means. In story telling, that was not going to come from Charlotte, Miranda or Samantha. The Fab Four, as it were, deliver in other areas as needed to move the story along.
It's just not how a story is built, especially in this case. I apologize if I am getting too technical, but it's the truth.
So we see Louise come into Carrie's life, provide a fresh perspective, and then ultimately permanently leave to go back to St. Louis where she is reunited with her ex-boyfriend, who she is going to marry.
She is very happy in choosing love for the long run, despite Carrie being presumably ditched at the altar by Big.
Carrie ultimately reunites with Big (Chris Noth) and that is the ultimate gesture of a complicated character who tries to play out her own life as if it's a storybook.
Charlotte's life plays out just as the life did of one of my own friends; the same with Miranda and Steve, who work throughout the movie to overcome Steve's infidelity.
Maybe that's the power of Sex. In it, we see so much of ourselves and the lives of our friends.
Monday, June 2, 2008
The Truth About The Numbers
http://www.nationaljournal.com/njmagazine/nj_20080531_8247.php?related=true&story1=nj_20080531_8247&story2=null&story3=null
Any of you who may be interested in the startling statistic that came out in early March that said 1 in 4 teenage girls has a sexually transmitted disease, listen up.
The numbers were wrong, and the National Journal magazine explains why.
This is why I question everything. My undergraduate mass communication law professor told me, "Never believe anything you read."
Basically, make sure you question everything. Just because it's in print doesn't mean it's true.
This STD statistic was particularly disturbing, and now we can know more thanks to the National Journal.
Any of you who may be interested in the startling statistic that came out in early March that said 1 in 4 teenage girls has a sexually transmitted disease, listen up.
The numbers were wrong, and the National Journal magazine explains why.
This is why I question everything. My undergraduate mass communication law professor told me, "Never believe anything you read."
Basically, make sure you question everything. Just because it's in print doesn't mean it's true.
This STD statistic was particularly disturbing, and now we can know more thanks to the National Journal.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Sex Sells
Sex and the City brought in roughly $60 million at the box office this past weekend.
I did not go to see it.
As a matter of fact, I went to see an independent film at the same theater where Sex was playing. The movie, The Fall, was interesting. It's actually a 2006 movie, but, well, we're in Oklahoma, so things happen slowly here.
You can learn more about the movie at http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0460791/
The best part of this movie, hands down, is the lead actress Catinca Untaru who plays Alexandria. Untaru is a child actress and steals the show, hands down.
I recommend the movie for anyone who likes independent films, but it is about 20 minutes too long.
I did not go to see it.
As a matter of fact, I went to see an independent film at the same theater where Sex was playing. The movie, The Fall, was interesting. It's actually a 2006 movie, but, well, we're in Oklahoma, so things happen slowly here.
You can learn more about the movie at http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0460791/
The best part of this movie, hands down, is the lead actress Catinca Untaru who plays Alexandria. Untaru is a child actress and steals the show, hands down.
I recommend the movie for anyone who likes independent films, but it is about 20 minutes too long.
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