The pictures of the wildlife being killed, harmed, or forever changed due to the oil slick are making most of us just heartsick.  The reaction of most people to not only the wildlife but the people of the gulf coast, and what they have been through, is spontaneous, immediate, and sincere.

Why has the President, as a man and a human being, not had that reaction?  Why does it take polls and public outrage to get him to care?  This troubles me almost more than anything else about him - just as many were troubled by Bush not going directly to aftermath of Katrina.  Obama, however, has the advantage of learning from his predecessor's mistakes, and still it takes pressure and polls to get him out there.  I'm sure he thinks back to the healthcare debates as the good ol' days.

Mr. President, get a hotel room at the gulf and stay awhile.  Pull an over-nighter.  And change the pressed white shirt for a workshirt, for Pete's sake.

So That's How God Did It

Even though I am packing up the house to move, and today winding up a book club at our senior center, and also guiding three young men daily through the peaks and valleys of modern life, and additionally installing carbon monoxide detectors in the house we're leaving with my husband, I have still been obsessing over just one thing, and it is this: the Standard Model of particle physics still does not explain how our matter-dominated existence came about.  Darn the conundrum! If there in no difference between muons and antimuons that arise from the decay of B mesons...well, what are we to think, what are we to assume?  Finally, there's this.  Thank you Yahoo!, for bringing me the answer to why we exist!!!

With the provocative title of the article from the awesome site http://www.space.com/, Yahoo! brings us ths fascinating look at matter and anti-matter, which is only understandable if you have a PhD in Physics, but is still interesting and applicable for all of us (as we wipe the drool off our laptops froom the level of concentration needed to parse the article.)

I love the study of space and space travel.  Many see these things as proof that there are rational, non-spiritual reasons for the existence of the Universe, and for the existence of us, but I see it as proof of the artistry and infinite mind of the One who made us, who gifted us not only with a limitless universe, but with the curiosity and capability to be absolutely fascinated by his creation.  Science and religion are natural partners - it is Man who mucks it up by getting in the mix with the rational mind. 

Ok, that's the mind-blurt for today.  Back to packing!

Matt, Matt, You Have to See This

Okay, so we're moving, and I have been packing up our current house for about the last three weeks.  My middle son Matt arrived home from college late last week, and he was tired.  (It was studying that made him so tired, right??) Anyhoo, I was finishing up sorting through the attic, and Matt was sleeping - hard - one floor below.

As I was sifting through the latest pile of stuff up in the attic, I stumbled on the old, original toybox belonging to Matt and his brother Fred back when they were babies, then toddlers, then little boys, and I hadn't seen it or thought of it in years.  It has been covered by what we shall term "attic funk" for some years; air conditioners, Christmas decorations, cast-off furniture.  I ran down to get Matt, excited for him to see it.  "Matt, Matt, wake up," I said, urgently shaking him, as if I had discovered a nest of exotic baby bats up there, or a clump of diamonds that we had forgotten about.  "You have to see this."  Matt finally rolled over and woke up.  I felt a small flicker of embarrassment as he struggled to a sitting position; he is 20, and maybe 20 year olds aren't that interested in the toybox they had when they were 2...

We went upstairs together, Matt expecting, by this time, to see something really great.  I looked around furiously as we emerged at the top of the stairs; could I somehow, in the next seconds, see something else that I could pretend was that great - great enough to wake the guy up on his first morning home from college?  Nope...even the toybox is better than the other items we were looking at: an old Thigh Master, an old weight bench, a crumpled-up poster of dogs playing poker.  "Okay...here it is."  I might as well go for it; really build it up.  "Can you believe I found this?  I mean, can you believe it?  It's like an antique!  Your old toybox...WOW!"  It was as if an antiques auctioneer was going to stop by the attic at any moment and offer us thousands of dollars for it. I pointed down at it enthusiastically.

Matt sat down heavily if unsteadily on a three-legged chair and put his chin in his hands, staring at the toybox and saying nothing.  (He really was quite tired!)  He looked up a me.  "You need to get out more, Mom," he said gently, as if to a toddler.  We both laughed, and together we went through the old toybox.  His 20 year old hands touched the toys that used to be the gems of his heart when he was 3 and 4 years old; the old dump truck, the little book about the rabbit, the scarred wood blocks.  His expression turned softer as traces of memories came back, of a simpler time when he and his brother had no worries and nothing but time.  Before the world got so complicated.

I'm not going to wake him anymore when I find something great - unless I come across the hula-hoop he used to be (and still might be!) so good at.

Stepford Shoppers

I'm sorry, but has the world of parenting gone crazy lately?

I was in my happy place, Target, this morning, and was sharing the aisles with moms and their loud, demanding kids.  Now, you would hope to hear loud-er moms in response, threatening the old time-out "when we get home, Buster," or removing just-acquired treats from the little monsters' grips.  Instead, here is an accounting of what I heard/saw:

A young mom, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was in public, happily shrieking a strange lullaby that anyone who had not yet had enough coffee just would not appreciate hearing.  The lullaby had to do with a worm, an apple, and a hill of some sort.  The kid in the cart was beyond bored, and rolling his eyes directly at her (you couldn't blame him - everyone knows worms hate climbing hills; they have no feet.)  I tried to harmonize when she went by, as by this time I knew all the words, but the kid stuck his tongue out at me, rendering me speechless.  I should have done us all a favor and issued a Citizen's Time-Out (similar to a Citizen's Arrest).

The next issue was a mom with a child who was asking her mother over and over again if they could get a pink daisy backpack of some sort before they left the store.  Now, the deferential, sort-of-pleading mom, oblivious to anything but her child's needs (even though, as she patiently explained, a backpack was not in the budget,) rolled over my actual toe with her cart as they went by.  That's right, rolled right over my toe.  Grunting in pain, I backed away, deftly manoevering my cart as I retreated, and they both turned to look at me.  "I'm okay," I mumbled, limping over to grasp on to a rack of bland canvas artwork behind me.  They both stared for a moment, seemingly dazed, and then proceeded on.  Remember the last scene from The Stepford Wives, where the robot-women are out shopping?  Well, in 2010, it's teams of robots - parent-child robots who are taking over my Target before I've had coffee.

Don't mess with my Target, kids.  I'm begging here.

Talent Alert!!! My son Fred and his band!!!!!

This is my son Fred's band, live at the Middle East!  This is an original that he wrote.  The band is fantastic (I know, biased, biased) and they put on an awesome show!  They have some of the best fans ever; they follow the band and are really supportive.  Fred is the singer; he is also a songwriter and plays electric and acoustic guitar.

Come on out to a show; it's always a treat to see his middle-aged fans (me and his dad) out past 11:30 pm.

Go Fred!  You guys are amazing!!!!

Epic Rain Delay Theatre - Here's How You Handle Boredom

Speaking of being able to handle boredom...check this rain delay out!  Awesome!

Boredom in da House!!!

I haven't been able to concentrate on politics much this week because it is school vacation week...that special time when parents' lives grind to a halt in an intensive week-long quest to keep their offspring from muttering the words, "I'm bored."

Since when is boredom so bad?  It's really a valuable skill, being able to handle boredom as an adult.  Hey, a lot of life is boring: work is often boring, marriage can having boring times, and those little moments that magazines wwere created to combat are especially boring.  Kids today, with their in-car DVD's, their brick-breaker games and ipods, their hand-held so-and-so's and their cell phones - can't understand or handle boredom at all.  I am great at handling boredom because I was raised in the "go outside and play; I'll see you at dinner" era.  Thank you Lord for that.

My son wants a television in his bedroom, and he is onl 11.  Now, my older sons referred to their bedrooms as the "jail cells" because there was noting fun to do there.  Why would I put fun things there, when that is where they were sent to be punished?  My 11 year old has almost given up, almost; he sees it's futile.  (Not only can I handle boredom, but I'm pretty good at sticking to my guns, too.  :-)

Back to politics soon, unless I find it boring.

Dog Poops on Field During Naturals Game

This is why I love dogs. And what "Mona," this beagle mix, leaves on the field reminds me of the Yankees.

Worldwide Devastation - Picture Al Queda with a Nuclear Warhead

Imagine, if you will... you are at work, and everyone suddenly gathers around the television in the conference room.  You grab your coffee and head in to join them, disturbed by the piercing warning sound coming from the television.  An anchor person comes on - the same anchor person who just yesterday was laughing about the weather - and in a tearful voice says, "We are about to be the victims of a nuclear attack, launched by ________.  We are launching a missile in a counterstrike, but the world is about to change forever. It is every man, woman and child for themselves.  God bless and keep you all...oh my God; it's really happening." 

The President is now taking on nuclear war, and I applaud him for this.  Too often his most ardent opponents are so blinded by this weird combination of distrust, fear, and often hate, that they cannot mention any single thing this man does right.  Make no mistake - I am not a fan, and I sincerely hope he is voted out come next Presidential election. I do, however, applaud his tackling nuclear arms and trying to get a substantive treaty on the table.  He has been criticized by conservative radio for the Adminisration's recent wording - in effect putting conditions on when we would - or more to the point, would NOT - strike back - and this is frightening to many.  They see him as too soft, too ready to apologize, too ready to back down first, in trust and a fatal naivete.  I agree.

But the President is putting a long-overdue spotlight on nuclear arms, in a summit here at home with 46 participating countries.  (Iran and North Korea - not there. Surprise! ) Although it is quite possible that nothing substantive will happen, this is meant to highlight the President's concern over loose nuclear material and the devastation to the world if it gets into the hands of terrorists.

Study the picture above for a moment.  Is anything that the President does to spotlight the dangers of , say, Al Queda, getting their hands on nuclar material, a waste of time?  I think not, and I support this summit, even if it is a baby step.

Tiger Returns to Golf

So, Tiger comes back and gets a warm reception from the crowd.  I have really divided feelings about that; on the one hand, the guy is a serial philanderer and jeopardized his whole family.  Is that my business?  No, but he kind of made it my business by being a public figure, and especially a public figure that openly touts family values.  On he other hand - wow, it was brave to come back.  I can only imagine how it felt walking to that first tee - in fact ONLY Tiger, with his amazing focus and mental "compartmentalizing" could have done that.  And then to have the best opening round of his Masters career... it must have felt like Heaven getting back on the course.

So - do I respect him?  No.  Do I respect what he's been able to do with a golf club and an open fareway or a putting green?  Yes.  And how do I feel about the women who are making money by selling the stories of their affairs with Tiger?  Well, it's a family blog so I won't say.  But two things do remain true: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and if you have taken money for stripping or sex, it's probably a good bet that a family and their survival won't drag on your conscience too much.

Alert: a Supreme Court Justice is retiring, so this will be a good bellweather as to how liberal Obama will continue to be - will he pick someone very far left, or go for a moderate?  Judging by what he did with healthcare, I'd say far-left is a safe bet.  Also: I am reading John Adams, and it is very interesting when it is juxtaposed against our current government and Congress.  John Adams warned early and often about one individual having too much power.

Happy week-end!  We sold our house in 2 days, so things are looking bright!

Easter, Tattooed

Easter. Promises kept, scriptures fulfilled, and a faith truly begun, as it's young followers realized the truth - Jesus was, in fact, God's son.

There are many images of Easter, but here is mine for 2010.  I was in CVS with all the other moms, looking a the Easer baskets - the ones that are pre-made and shrink-wrapped (and always kind of sorry-looking) and also the rows of baskets, empty and waiting to be filled with colored straw, chocolate, and candy.

I am in the bittersweet phase of Easter baskets - no one believes in the big bunny anymore, but I can't give up the tradition.  So, as I stood in the aisle with the other moms, I noticed a young guy, about 19 or 20, staring at the bagged candy.  He was pale and thin, and covered with tattoos, but no parent alive could have been more intent on selecting the right candy to go in the small basket he held in one hand.  It was beautiful, this young father determined to make the right choice.  That, for me, was Easter.  Showing love any way we can, and to the best of our ability.  God bless him.

Happy Easter!