Drawing In

Warning twinges

2012-05-11T23:06:00.001-04:00

Knowing my love of Madison Avenue's attempt to explain Women to ourselves, Carol sent this:

Long before couples were setting up bathtubs on hillsides, and cautioning us that Trizominex is not for everyone, but do (DO) ask your doctor... And long before Madison Avenue stopped making us READ so much COPY...
Li'l Pharma promised us everything and delivered .....

Let's break it down.
Not even your mother has heard of this.

So what the hell was it?
So you're suffering from "periodical indisposition," and you were supposed to meet this other couple and their stag friend inside a Thurber cartoon, but you just have these depressing pains.

And this is a...drug?
An ANALGESIC

I know what that is. What's KAMNIA?
An excellent play! Circle gets to open...
The Antikamnia chemical company claimed their name meant "opposed to pain." In what language, is anyone's guess. I can not find a word origin. The Google translator detected it as Filipino. Possibly because I used the word Filipino in yesterday's post, and Google is highly impressionable.

In fact, it is difficult to break past Google's insistence that you mean KAMINA, which will take you down some anime/plushy path that is hard to back out of. This is K-A-M-N-I-A. But then "thousands of women just ask for A-K."

How many should I take?

One. or Two. We're not doctors.

What's in it?
I am so glad you asked. May I approach the bench?

Citing the case of United States v. Antikamnia Chemical Co., 231 U.S. 654 (1914), the plaintiff claimed the defendant had violated the Food and Drug by failing to specify the product contained acetanilid,

I swear your answers just beg more questions.
It's true. The Internet is like that. I started this post 2 years ago.
Acetanilid is what we used to take before aspirin, and before it was found to be more beneficial as photographic developer. If you want more than that, you'll have to ask someone who took high school chemistry.

What about "always sure - always safe"?

Sometimes they're wrong. Did your headache go away, though?

I do hate to give up all idea of a party.
Then Get Liberated, Sister. Put on your white shorties and ride your bicycle over there. You've got some well-earned relaxation due.

(You may also forget what season it is, and wear a sweater and a hat with your shorties)

Push me, poll you

2012-05-09T20:55:00.002-04:00

The trouble with the Don't Call list is that "political outreach" is exempt.

I was just Push Polled by some mysterious operation called "Topical Marketing" asking me to respond to some "theoretical" rumors about our senatorial candidates, then respond whether that information made me more or less likely to vote for that person.

Ex: "Which party do you have more concerns about, Democrat or Republican?"
I challenged the pollster to clarify her terms.

I said, "What kind of concerns?"
"Yes, that's right."
"You didn't answer my question. What do you mean by concerns?"
"Which one concerns you more?"

After going through the usual non-question/questions ("do you think things are going in the right direction?" )she dragged me through a bunch of "Have you ever heard" about both Warren and Brown. I was supposed to say whether I had heard that accusation (her word) and whether it was very, somewhat, blah-blah likely to change my opinion (the one I hadn't given about whom I would vote for).

There were FIVE of these.

"Are you more or less likely to vote for [this candidate]?"
"Than what," I said.
"More or less."
"Than the other candidate? I just told you I do not have a leaning."
"But based on these statements --- "
"Your choices don't make sense."

Frankly, it doesn't surprise me that Elizabeth Warren now presents herself as a Native American. She used to present herself as having brown hair and glasses.
It doesn't surprise me that Scott Brown's house is valued at $1M. We live in Massachusetts. All that means is his house has 10 rooms.

The pollster says, " I am now going to read you some theoretical statements about [the other candidate]..." I said, "Let me stop you. I am going to give you the same answers as before. I have not heard these statements, and they have not changed my mind. If you want to write those down now and end the survey, we can. or we can end the survey. Your choice is A or B."

Then I stopped talking, so she thought I hung up. She disconnected.

And America....
She called me back.

"We just completed this survey," I said.
"If you would let me read the statements, I can enter your answers."
"Why is that important?" I said.
"It's important that we finish." (in the Milgrim experiment, this is pronounced “The experiment requires that you go on”)

I almost said... "Are they holding you there against your will?" but instead I said, "Who is sponsoring this survey?"
"Topical Marketing, she says.

"Topical marketing is conducting the survey. for whom are you conducting this survey?"

Oh, don't make me whoooom your ass, girlie.... I am home allll daaaay.

She stammered and admitted that she wasn't made aware of that. I said, "Your questions are not based in fact, you won't cite who these 'supporters' and 'opponents' are, the answers don't match the questions, and you won't tell me how the data will be used. Why is it so valuable?"

I am so sorry to say that in the end she won. I let her read the questions so she would never call me again, but I banged a lot of dishes while she did it. Very mature.

Demographically... my options were single, married, living with someone, divorced, widowed , or never married.
Let's review.
"Single, divorced, widowed AND never married?" You know how I love to be called unmarried.

How's this for the ethnicity question:
"Is anyone in your family Native American, Asian, Spanish-speaking, or African-American."
Spanish speaking? Yes, my Filipino cousin is Asian Spanish-speaking, and my Nipmuc sister-in-law is African/Native American. I said, "Any of those? Yes."
"Can you be specific?"
"Nope."

Because f**k her. She doesn't even know who she works for. What is the frequency, Kenneth?

In the end, she apologized for calling me back. I said, "I am sorry they made you do that."
And reminded myself to answer the phone more vigilantly in the future.

Countdown to "this finally stops": 181 days

Lord, help this poor film

2012-05-05T22:30:00.000-04:00

I found I had more to say about The Raven than my usual Facebook movie review capsule could contain.

Having started this post, I discovered that more legitimate reviewers and scholars than myself had already made many of the points I would have made, so I will direct you to them below and save my breath for how I received the film.

I enjoy the little scuffles that arrive in the space of an FB review, often over the stars themselves, which I always have to clarify are not an expression of how "good" the film is (or skilled, or important, or what have you). They are Netflix stars, which have always been a measuring of "liking" the film, and if Facebook understands anything, isn't it LIKING?

So, in Netflix parlance, 3 is "liked it," 4 is "really liked it" (no, really) and 5 is "loved it." (in case you are curious, 2 is "didn't like it" and 1 is...)

And I can Really Like/Love a terrible film (see everything in the juvenile delinquent genre, and most of the Jodie Foster oeuvre). And I can just hate things that I recognize are the best of their kind (Harry Potter, I assume, though I really wouldn't know...)

The Raven... I'm going to go with 4 Netflix stars. I did "really like" it, though there was a lot just...not good about it.

I will not quibble with historical facts. This is fan fiction, and it is entitled to its full fantasy. You want the facts, explore below.

Reel Facts
The Reynolds Legend
Unrequited Lurv

What the opening titles report is true: we don't not know why Poe was in Baltimore in October of 1849, how he came to be in the condition he was found, or even what condition that was. There are not even enough medical notes to take a modern review of vital signs and symptoms. (oh...for an EHR... don't click that; it's boring.) So have at, America. Here is one speculation.

John Cusack is younger than I am, and we are both too old to play Poe, but that doesn't bother me either because... it's John Cusack. I actually enjoyed him -- intense, but not morose, a little flirty, a little bitchy, a lot drunk... He could get his mouth around the language without sounding like Maurice Evans, and he still made me want to spend the summer with him and learn the sport of kickboxing.

When the language isn't working, it is distracting. Watch the Internet forums soon for the complaints of linguistic anachronism (just for the fun of saying it) as "serial killer," "gun-toting" and "OK," are bandied about. I looked into "OK," which is older than we ever think, but not likely in the vernacular of a society maiden, even when she is trying to keep it together buried inside a box.

I never say SPOILER ALERT.

What I am tired of, I realize, is this notion that madmen have all the time and energy in the world (in between baiting and disemboweling the passersby) to leave clues all over the place like it's Christmas morning at Pee Wee's Playhouse. But that is the nature of these stories, so have patience through the numerous climaxes, the red herrings, the solving of Sudokus and Rebuses, and (no, seriously) longitudinal charts just to get to the next clue station. The lat/long clue sequence is the stupidest nonsense in any detective story -- any time, any author. Stop it. that was dumb. I won't write it all down for you, but after you see the film, try to backtrack from the clue outcome to its origin, and tell me if you don't take a tincture of your own just now.

But it is scary. And bloody. And gloomy. The sets are crammed full of antebellum sootiness and everyone has cravat and muttonchops and whalebone just so. Which I enjoy. The murders are crazier than Se7en -- you won't believe them for a second -- but then, if you have ever read any Poe, you don't expect to. If a film like this is expected to revive Poe in the mass-market, let me give you a hint:

This process, however, afforded me no means of ascertaining the dimensions of my dungeon; as I might make its circuit, and return to the point whence I set out, without being aware of the fact, so perfectly uniform seemed the wall. I therefore sought the knife which had been in my pocket when led into the inquisitorial chamber, but it was gone; my clothes had been exchanged for a wrapper of coarse serge.

No it won't.

But if you do like your Poe references, and the stories more than the poetry -- and if you like a wild ride even if it brings you right back to the starting line -- and if you are not too claustrophobic or squeamish -- and if you like your Poe taller and less Boothy --- you might agree to 3 or 4 stars.

The narrative makes no sense, and the closing credits belong to a completely different film. But you may get shut out of The Avengers this week, so consider it a fallback.

PillCam

2012-05-05T09:00:00.001-04:00

I don't know why I stress about coming up with topics. They are just lying around waiting to be noticed.

I have never doubted the power of the white coat to make us swallow just about anything. Behold, Future World - the Pill Cam.

More boringly known as video capsule endoscopy, this is exactly what it looks like it is. And I expect that given time, you too will decide that "they must know what they're doing."

The floor is now open for questions.

Ok, well, I just want to know how big that is.

This is like that weird hamburger pinky-hold you see in commercials, which disguise the size of what's on the value meal. The capsule looks big enough already... girth-wise... but you can't see the end of it. Another way to obfuscate is to use metrics: " Both PillCam SB and ESO video capsules are 11 mm x 26 mm and weigh less than 4 grams."

So... how big?
I have no idea. I'm American. This big:

And it does what, now?

"The smooth plastic capsule contains a miniature video camera and is equipped with a light source on one end, batteries, a radio transmitter and antenna. After it is swallowed, the PillCam SB capsule transmits approximately 50,000 images over the course of an 8-hour period (about 2 images per second) to a data recording device attached to a belt worn around the patient’s waist. The small bowel images are then downloaded into a Given® Workstation computer where a physician can review the images in order to make a diagnosis."

Oh, but why?
I believe you are familiar with the alternative method.

How come I can't swallow a watch battery, but I can swallow this?
"PillCam SB was initially cleared by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration in 2001."
That's not an answer.
It is to them.

Ok, so I swallow a camera, and... what is it again?

From what I can make out in this video, it is a microchip, a... ball bearing?, 2 button batteries, some kind of copper coil, encased in plastic, like a toy from a gumball machine.

yuh-hunnh.... go ahead....
"PillCam capsule endoscopy offers a simple, safe and non-invasive alternative to traditional imaging procedures."

It's an interesting use of "non-invasive" that you have.
Then look at this!

I am always amazed how much our innards look like pasta.
Make sure you pause that first frame to learn that this V2 is not yet approved in the US. But by all means "ask your doctor."

I suppose I know how this ends.
"Both the PillCam SB and PillCam ESO disposable capsules make their way through the rest of the gastrointestinal tract and then are passed naturally and painlessly from the body, usually within 24 hours."

{{sigh}} Side Effects?
When will you ask this question first? WHEN, America.

You shouldn't use it if you have a gastrointestinal obstruction. Recreational purposes only, one would assume.
"Capsule retention" may occur. I expect it's on YOU to determine whether it has.

"There is a rare risk of capsule aspiration while patients are attempting to swallow a PillCam video capsule or Agile patency capsule. There is also a low risk of skin irritation from the SensorArray sleeve adhesive or silicone exposure.

Medical, endoscopic, or surgical intervention may be necessary to address any of these complications, should they occur."

I thought you might say that.

Modern medicine is a marvel, isn't it?

Minute Clinic...Medieval Barber

2012-04-29T10:18:00.003-04:00

Can you get enough stories of me, trying to navigate a CVS?

Somewhere between my last day in Va, and a drive back to New England, I picked up a southern woodsy tick, which I discovered in the shower, embedded in my hip. After trying all the usual methods (and some less usual) I did manage to kill it. May I recommend that all-purpose healing poultice toothpaste, which must burn like a mother, even to something with an exoskeleton.

So it fell off, but of course, not all in one piece. That's how those little bastards get ya. I poked and hacked at it long enough to risk tetanus, then I decided to find a medical paraprofessional. At the CVS.

Has your CVS opened a clinic? It's not as sketchy as you think, actually, but a little Bramwellian. We have them all over eastern Mass (thanks, individual mandate!), but not everywhere. They operate like your usual doc-in-the-box, except it is CVS, so you may see your neighbors shopping for birthday cards, or your Aunt Tillie picking up her "perscriptions." So maybe you'd prefer one in a different town. And it's not a doctor.

Follow the signs on the floor of the CVS to the back, where there are four chairs, no reception, and a computer into which you sign. Screens, screens, screens.... but all information you know...then the screen tells you how many people are ahead of you, and you wait.

For various reasons, I have been waiting in a lot of exam and waiting rooms recently, and I can tell you for sure that they are not soundproof. I can also tell you that the "P" in HIPAA stands for Portability, not Privacy, so in spite of all the rules of record-keeping and confidentiality, your being overheard is not a breach. Think about that next time you are inside the exam room, because people like me don't bring a book to entertain themselves.

It is a little funny that the drugstore doesn't have magazines in its waiting area.

Let's call my NP Cherry. I expect that Cherry Ames would be a Nurse Practitioner by now. In her very efficient little exam room (1 desk, 2 chairs, the rolly stool, 1 sink, 1 bank of cabinets and drawers) she could not find her very efficient little tick extracting tool. Which is not, you may be surprised to hear, tweezers coated in Crest Total. It's this ingenious device, and I just have to blow this part up for you:


I think you know who you are

Because she can't find it, after several minutes of looking -- in a space smaller than your bathroom -- I sat down and buttoned my pants. She looked for other implements, like hedge clippers, a long thumbnail, or a rusty saw.

With regular forceps too large for the job she went to work on the embedded head, about the size of a thorn-splinter, at the depth of a mass grave. And I thought... this is what I was doing yesterday. But then, I didn't have a lab coat.

Now. Once your cadaver head, forceps, and skin are bloodied, it is just a slippery mess. I am standing, braced against the wall to (a) avoid throwing a shadow and (b) scrawl HELP ME into the cinderblock walls of this torture chamber.

"Are you ok?" she asks, with some compassion, though not as much as your mammography tech. "It's fine," I say, because I do have a surprisingly high pain threshold, and notice that I didn't say I was fine. I said that it was fine for Sh***y Healthcare to pay for this rather than my Lyme disease. I can stand it if they can.

Readership, I want you to know that when she finally extracted it, it felt like a dipstick pulling out of the oil tank. I actually felt it retract, even though neither of us could really see it once it was out.

What they are charging Sh***y : $79 . To bore me out with an apple corer, which the local crone could have done, plus serve tea and read the bumps on my head. Throw in an antibiotic and we're all happy.

What a racket.

Is it too late to talk about Portland?

2012-04-27T00:36:00.001-04:00

I do still carry a travel diary; I just don't write in it anymore.

My 2nd visit to Oregon was much longer than my first. It occurred this past February, as part of my farewell tour. Just before the Company instituted an upsell quota, I packed up my sample cases and got the heck out of Dodge. But not before they paid for a week in Portland.

For the record... I never saw Portland. So don't ask me if what Fred and Carrie say about it is true. I'll assume it is. I did not go to VooDoo Donuts. (But now they will come to me.) I did not ride a bike.

In fact, I was put-up in Gresham, (aka Portland East, which is Portland like the Manchester-Boston Regional Airport is Boston) -- near the airport because I don't like to drive too much farther in a rental after I have already flown 3000 miles. And because maps of other people's towns never make much sense. This is how I ended up renting my first Boston apartment in Newton, when I did not own a car. The itinerary was client dinner Monday, client lunch Tuesday, client workday followed by college-pal drinks on Wednesday, attention to the other 10 clients on Thursday, out on Friday. One thing the fledging Road Warrior learns is to work some weekends in there. They owe you.

What I thought I was reserving: 1 bedroom suite with kitchen
What I got: 1 King with mini-fridge and microwave.

I like the suite if I am going to live somewhere for a week because it feels so civilized. The complimentary breakfast at these joints can either resemble a Carnival Cruise at 1am or a box of Little Debbie cakes. You should check those things out before you stop at the Safeway. But it has been a long trip out, and I didn't want to leave the room once I was in it, so I made a grocery stop before check in. Fortunately... I wasn't planning on a turkey dinner. I was planning on dishes and glasses. So back to The Dollar Store I went (conveniently located next to the Safeway) for $6 worth of hobo bridal setting. Oh, and some razors because I forgot mine. The razors you can get at a Dollar Store are horrible, but you get 20!

The other thing the Company owes you is a bottle of wine to live for a week next to Michael's Furniture. Because it is always next to Michael's.

photo from http://derekthewanderer.blogspot.com/ - might be his; certainly isn't mine.

A Mt. Hood sighting is more rare than images on the Internet would have you believe. Like most of the big western peaks, Hood has its own atmosphere that it hides behind. Sunday was also a rare sunny day, and I was treated to a rear-view glimpse sort of like this, though the sky was much cloudier. Still breath-taking -- I am not made of stone, after all. Instead, I was up to the Columbia Gorge on the advice of the hotel manager when asked to meet my criteria of (a) close, (b) outdoors, and (c) quintessentially Oregonian.

But I had done some of my own homework.

Been following this blog long? Beverly Cleary Elementary School stands near Klickitat Street, where it ought to be, and in sight of an unassuming sculpture garden (playground) dedicated to Henry, Ribsy, and Ramona. Three life-sized statues -- something to do, and take pictures of, and it is true that anywhere you go in Oregon, you'll be more mesmerized by the trees than anything else around them, so you might as well start here.

I had also seen on the map a site simply called The Grotto -- and who doesn't love a grotto? That's rhetorical, of course (and rather cliched). I don't care who doesn't love a grotto. Or Sara Lee. I was all-in for The National Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother. NATIONAL.. How National? It scored "thegrotto.org" as a URL.

Things to do on your grotto visit: all of it. Do it all like Disneyland. It is a beautiful piece of land, with stunning views, Stations through the woods, a sweet giftshop (grandma-sweet, not skateboard dude-sweet), and a life-sized Pieta in a 100 foot cliff. I had nearly walked myself ragged, and I hadn't left town yet.

I was not at all prepared to be driving right past Multnomah Falls, familiar to us pencil-necked easterners as the print from The Pottery Barn Catalog. Imagine you are just driving some scenic byway in your Chevy Malibu and this is what is on the other side of the guardrail. Of course you would stop. And if you fancy yourself a skilled hiker, you'll even shrug at the 1.5 miles to the top -- even if you are wearing the wrong kind of coat and shoes, and have no water.
You'll curse all 11 switchbacks, but imagine the climb if they weren't there.

I still intended to get to the Gorge. Sadly, after the morning I'd had, the gorge was a little anti-climactic. I do want to plug The Interpretive Center Museum, though, which is a little like a mini-Smithsonian of the Northwest. By that I mean, that in one small space you'll get pre-European history, town folklore, Lewis and Clark, an actual fishwheel, a steam engine, a lesson in conservation and our fragile environment, and the requisite cheesy museum experience film that sounds loud and moves fast, but never really tells you much you remember the second it's over. And the world's largest rosary collection.

u-huh.

So, yes, if you're keeping score, I have made it to Washington, but not downtown Portland. And this post may already be too long to read. Let's talk about what we ATE tomorrow.

Watch this space

2012-04-24T22:17:00.003-04:00

I hadn't forgotten about you.
I was cleaning out my desk.

I have been writing this next sentence for the next ten minutes, so I'll just keep plowing through and you'll take whatever comes out. We haven't raised our ticket price in the past 6 years, and no one has ever used the donate button.

Stop looking. There is no Donate button.

12 years, 3 companies, 6 jobs, and a couple blogs later, and I am tapping out of the high-tech Octagon. If you have to change positions every 2 years, it's probably not them, it's you. And it is most definitely me. I like to think I served with honor. I loved you all (I mean, I didn't love everyone, but I don't talk to the ones I didn't....) but turn, turn, turn, etc. So my mixed metaphors of high-tech Mill Girl/overdressed corporate stooge is replaced by starving graduate student/over-degreed do-gooder, spending the endowment that those 12 years built.

But in either scene, I am your squint-eyed Spinster, and I know you'll still tune in for that. Blogger teased me with some new templates, and I tried them out, but I kept the old one after all. You're welcome.

Did I really quit my job in a recession? Yes, I did. The secret is to find what they need and provide that. And they do not need anymore project weenies. There are plenty to go around.
Any I really getting another Masters? Yes, I am. Maybe I'll use this one. You never know.
Is it really online? Mostly, yes. It's worth the price of admission just to see how in the world they teach Braille...to sighted people...online. But I'm all in.
Am I really unemployed? Not really. But yes, really. I will declare the income I am making on these projects I bid too low, and in the end...it will have been for no good reason.
So how's that all gonna work? aaaahhhh..... got you hooked now, don't I?

So here's what's happening right now.
-- making a comparison study of the local town libraries, and tracking them by spreadsheet. Shrewsbury - not enough outlets! Lancaster - pretty, but small! Bolton - nice rebuild! I really miss my Newton Free, and oh, you, Lexington, but I no longer go that way.

-- speaking of rationing, the bourbon is low and there is no payday ahead. But it is a lovely replacement for running the heat in April. (another reason I am at the library all day).

-- back at the fitness room of Del Boca Vista, and that ought to be material enough for once a week.

The gym membership expired this month, and it is 15 miles from here. The "fitness" room consists of 1 marginally-adjustable circuit cluster, some treadmills, a Stairmaster that works and a Gravitron that doesn't, a rowing apparatus that seems to be from the 1920s, and would pair nicely with some of those juggling pins, an Ellpitical machine, a balance ball, scattered free weights with all the increments between 5 and 20 missing, and that weird hump-bike that Long Duk Dong rode in 16 Candles.

-- Maybe blogging again. This is a start. If I can possibly find a place to put it in my busy schedule.

That much money

2012-03-04T10:23:00.000-05:00

In a "down economy," someone had the means to give $10M to the Gingrich campaign.

You know that saying, "If I could just win the Lottery...."?
I am about to leave my job. I wasn't surprised how openly people will ask me "what are you going to do for money?" One of the answers I am considering is "I won the lottery." Said quietly, out of the corner of my mouth, to give it veracity. The closest I have come is a WASPy, "I have some means."

We all have some means. It's like having "a temperature." Some of us have more than others.
Like you, I have tried to figure out how little of a windfall I really needed to feel set for life. Ten Mill would be just about right. Five would get me into my 90s.

The 4 "poorest" Billionaires only have $1B each. (they sell their suits, but keep their sock garters)

Sheldon Adelson says he'll give 100 Million if necessary.
Don't be shy. We all have questions.

Who is he?
According to Forbes, he is the 8th wealthiest man in America, at $ 21.5B. I can say "man," because thems are the facts. The wealthiest woman is Alice Walton, and I have been meaning to write more about her, I just don't have help around the house.

What's that in normal-people figures?
I measure these things against the Harvard endowment, which does have more than Mr Adelson, but then he pays taxes, doesn't he? (doesn't he?)

Where did it come from?
Ironically... gambling. That is to say, other people's gambling. He bought The Sands in 1988.

Ooh...so he's "connected"? Are you trying to get me killed?

I thought he was one of the good guys -- schools, and youth development, medical research -- Yad Vashem?! All true. We are judged by the company we keep. And if you gave to the the Adelson Foundation to support those things, you got what you paid for. Get your good night's sleep believing that your check went right into those funds. This is one good reason to insist on Designated Giving.

So what about Gingrich?
They disdain Palestine together. On the other hand, if you start trying to break down which ethnicities and which nations are "invented," you end up on an Escher staircase pretty quickly.

Well, that's the end of my Foundation support, then.
That's your prerogative. Understand, though, that it is separate money. Adelson's Super PAC "Winning Our Future" is the source of the $10-100M (chump-change interest from this Jed Clampett). I won't link to them; it's bad enough I just clicked on it.

"Winning." Gambling pun, right? If I understood more about gambling, I could do a long frontrunner/dark horse metaphor here. But I'm at a loss. (rim shot)
WOF identifies our President as "statist and un-American." I was not sure how you could be both. I had to look some things up. "Statism" is a French concept -- FRENCH!, the people cried. Boy, I tell ya, if those damn French had been in our Revolution, they would have --- what's that? Oh.

Plus, she's topless.

Anyway, Statism asserts that the government should control economic policy.
Minarchy is the idea of the most minimal legislated protection.
Menarche is getting your period.

but not today

Often, people who oppose Statism are called Anarchists. -->
They might even shut the government down. for example.

Winning also says that Mr Former Speaker can reverse the "heavy-handed socialist leaning" of the current administration. (Heavy-handed Leaning. That one's yours for the taking.)
" America will not survive another four years of Barack Obama..." says the website. What could it mean? Barrels for everyone? I predict we would outsource the barrel making, too.

The blog Rooted Cosmopolitan discusses the rising costs of political campaigns in a recent post. (Of course, you can see by their banner ad what they're all about.) I found this, too, which is an interesting read.

It is French-leaning of me to assume that $10M could fund 166 $60K salaries for 1 year. That is not a lot of people, and they still require health benefits. We could fund over 4000 of those for a year with $10M. Or, he could do as he likes with the money earned from the promise of instant wealth at impossible odds. That is as it should be, and $10M can purchase about a week's pre-primary expenses for his candidate. Even Mr. Romney might consider that "much money."

I have no conclusions. I have become hooked on reading Politifact, and have spent much too much time on this post. I have to spend more time on paying the Taxes. Speaking of my modest means.

Oscar...Oscar, Oscar

2012-02-27T09:29:00.000-05:00

forget the Scorcese game, drink when you see Angi's groin

I don’t usually red carpet. The interviewers get on my nerves, and it is about as easy to hear as the Beatles at the Hollywood Bowl. The fashion chat sort of bores me, but I do like seeing who arrives with whoooom. Nowadays, though, the carpet creepers are reading Twitter posts to me. Do they think we don’t HAVE Twitter? Or do they think that we are more likely to tweet if we think they might read our post? That’s the case, I suppose.

I was working upstairs on an expense report (for the 2^nd time, mind you. Thanks Oracle. Bitch.) but I couldn’t prove what time the awards were going to actually start. ABC keeps saying the show starts at 7, and I know they are lying – that it is probably 8-THIRTY even, but I came down anyway. I can’t afford to be distracted by that expense report again.

Literally.

So of course, I was right and we are calling to seats at 8:30. That’s how they get ya.

This is the only night I would Twitter. But it's not a list even I want to read, so I’ll try to have something more meaningful to say than running commentary. After all, when my comple-at papers are collected by some well-meaning graduate student, we need my cultural/film commentary to stand on its own.

24 awards. Count ‘em 24.

The theme I notice is convincing us that we do love the movies, we do! Or perhaps that we should help our children understand why they should. And I had a sudden awareness/panic that the movies won’t always be with us, which had never occurred to me before. I am as guilty as anyone of watching on a tiny player resting on my belly, on the company laptop in a hotel room, on somebody’s Wii… but I can not imagine a world that has no picture show in it. It gave me the same Bell Jar as realizing that Niagara Walls would never stop running. Then think of a day when maybe it did.

I am also painfully aware that my television is now the wrong shape. Even the awards shows have outgrown the square ratio. The top of everyone’s head is cut off, and these split screens of nominees and their films has everyone peering out of one right eye. As we used to say when reading Cinemascope credits on the small screen.. “Klahom!”

Where is the award for these sea salt caramels I’m eating?

Nice work, Coca-Cola, on the “not all stars” commercial. I would like you to show that before the films I arrive too early for. If you are going to show commercials in the sacred hall, they might as well be about the movies. I remember a Loews pre-show that was all movie clips of characters talking about the movies. Sort of like the open of this year’s Awards show. The “no talking” rule could feature DiNiro in Cape Fear, and “no smoking” could be the screening room of Citizen Kane. Has this been done? It feels like it’s been done.

When the Emmy noms come around, please remember that the directors of the Oscar broadcast could not figure out how to shoot that Cirque d’Soleil piece. Some things are too big for any screen.

The night is really flying by so quickly, I find I have very little to say by way of commentary other than the technical glitches of the production itself. I have reset my audio to mono because the music and announcer were out of balance. And just now during Christopher Plummer’s speech there is a strange applause feedback in his microphone, as if it were mounted on a slinky.

This is not a good sign in a eyar devoted to silent films.

Will I sit through Titanic again, and is that far too much 3-D? I tried to sit out some of the 3-D in Hugo, but the film was unwatchable without the glasses. Was I supposed to keep the glasses? I doubted I would get a ticket price break if I brought them to the next 3-D, like a reusable grocery sack. And there was that big recycle box right outside the door. So recycle I did. Lord knows what they’ll charge to see Titanic. In 1996 I saw it free about 6 times. And it didn’t even have an iceberg in it.

I have to stomp around the room over Woody Allen winning an Academy Award for writing his same movie again just because he had Wikipedia open in the other browser. And then not show up. Do you know that you do not have to submit for a nomination? Did you not hear Ludovic Bource just thank Hans Zimmer for doing that very thing? Of course, Bource also acknowledged John Williams on his way up the aisle, and thanked Sheila E. from the stage. He’ll remember this moment forever. Woody will shoot another movie through doorways (scored by clarinet) and fetishize his typeface.

At night's end, it is 2 movies about movie making that take home all the prizes. Academy voters needs their jobs to have meaning, too, just like the rest of us. Good luck with yours this week.

Under the wire

2012-02-25T08:43:00.001-05:00

I'm not over-extended. I'm just drawn that way....

I have never in all my years cut it this close to Oscar Night on seeing best picture nominees. This means I have not had as much time to reflect, contrast, compare, and draw Venn Diagrams as I would like (WWI intersects with silent film intersects with fatherless boys intersects with Brad Pitt intersects with Jessica Chastain ....). This means I may recant this commentary shortly after I post it. Thank goodness nothing is permanent on the Internet.

I am finally ready for Sunday night. I have already fallen asleep through some of these.

Unlike last year's run, I did not like all of the films nominated for Best Picture this year. Some of them I actually made this noise during -- Ppffffttt -- but I can accept how they came to be nominated. I guess.
This year's slate of nine is no easier to navigate than the previous years' ten, but I guess the Big Slate is here to stay. And it ought to have more room for women's stories in. Apparently if you make 1 film that's nearly all women, it counts like 3.

Miss Bender's Oscar Pix 2012
The Year of Unhappy Man-Boys in Search of Lasting Meaning

9. Midnight in Paris
The Woodman ought to have something new to say by now. And I am not fooled by his casting of other people to play him, particularly if he is going to make them speak in precisely his cadence. There is a moment where Owen Wilson exits a bar onto the street, pivots to return to the bar and actually walks like Woody Allen. I kept expecting to see those brown corduroy pants. The fantasy world was a fun idea -- the rear view is always prettier -- but it was handled in such a sophomoric way: "Ernest Hemingway? Wait -- the Ernest Hemingway!?" Oh shut up.
Big ups to Mrs le'President for tweaking the French and the Americans in one character. We need Michelle Obama in more films.

8. Incredibly Loud and Extremely Close
So much went astray in this well-meaning ...fable? ( maybe?) is what I want to call it. When I was moved, I was very very moved, but when it was bad, it was... the rest of the time. I saw this a while ago. I am not sure where to begin. A 9/11 story - well, I am not a black-hearted bastard. That's very sad. But the "not-bloody-likely" aspects of the story were frustrating. And as I am sure I have said before, the tricks you can play with narrative in print are not easily mastered in film. "Show, Don't Tell" is still the best advice a screenwriter can take. I am not going to believe something just because you (or your V/O ) tells me so.
And, all right, I might be tired of autism as a narrative device. There you have it.

My on-line review said:
"The Boy with Elijah Wood's eyes is a natural.
Sandra Bullock is no Toni Collette, but once she is finally given her scene as Helpless Mom of Troubled Boy, she can deliver.
Tom Hanks does that thing he does."

7. Hugo
If you would prefer this movie to be about an earlier war, and an earlier time... there is Hugo. Lonely boy, mysterious key, cranky old man. Hugo has the addition of a girl from the Anna Paquin school, and a Paris populated by British people. Enjoy leftover footage of Jude Law from A.I. talking to a robot. So the AMPAS chose to honor a Martin Scorcese story about a film academy that restores old films. I'm not surprised. I was more surprised to find some fairly dull writing on Brian Selznick's website. But then, it wasn't the Newbery he won.

The plot seems to be that Hugo wants his notebook.

The 3D did not give me a headache, as I feared, but I did find it distracting. The film's wide shots are much more dramatic and interesting than all the close-ups and floating pollen. I'll close by saying that kid gave me the full on willies.

6. War Horse
And speaking of creepy boys with fixations..... why not continue the theme? We're 4 for 4 already.
In the land of weak Spielbergian fathers, and hand-wringing Spielbergian mothers, some beautiful photography occurs, while John Williams plays to the second balcony.

This is the kind of film that used to be a sure-thing for Oscar bait. And it still might be. But the Academy has already rewarded Schindler's List, and that may work against Spielberg here. It really is lovely CINEMA, but borrowed rather unapologetically from other films, some of them his own. Horses film beautifully even when dirty, and No Man's Land has never looked more futile. I think we may be saturating ourselves on WWI already, and we have several years of Centennial left to go.

That boy is far too old to have a crush on his horse. If you've been lamenting that they don't make them like The Yearling anymore, here ya go.

5. The Artist
Ambitious, but not great. Don't fool yourself: behind all the throwback cinema and tap dancing, we're still working the same theme. The Artist brings the motifs of the lower four into the upper 5 by presenting a pouty man (with a beloved pet) into the world of silent cinema. He is not extremely loud, but his teeth are incredibly close.

This film is a lot of fun, and holds interest. I found the dog tiresome, but I'm a mean old bitch with no imagination. Berenice Bejo is delightfully charming, in that way that made us fall in love with Audrey Tautou. But what has she done for us lately? As long as you are immersing yourself in WWI (deliberately or by sheer force of cultural will) check out more pre-1920s film. There are a lot of surprises to discover.

4. The Descendants
If read as a comedy, it doesn't stand much of a chance at winning Best Picture; if read as drama, it is among the mainstream front-runners that may end up splitting the weighted voting methodology (I consider the others The Help, War Horse, and Moneyball). I predict that enough (perhaps most) voters will put all 4 of these up front, to where the order they are listed will start to become important. I think each will have its champions as #1, but no 1 has universal appeal in that way.

The Descendants is a good movie night. I don't think it will disappoint many, though I do think many will come out saying what they said about Sideways: what was all the fuss about? It's shortcoming is what a former editor of mine used to call being able to "see the craft." The writing, acting, cinematography, and even location scouting are all RIGHT THERE like a case study. Oh it's good stuff -- great in places, even. Just too obvious.

What it has going for it is Clooney. He is beloved among his peers.

3. Moneyball

The Aaron Sorkin slot. A fresh original story in another year. In this year it is the same story the other films are telling, only with sports. Baseball doesn't film very well, but this team found a way to capture it in its film form: slow and chatty, turning strangely without explanation, a little sad and it never ends like you think it should. I don't say a non-fan won't "get" this movie, you just may enjoy it more if you enjoy baseball.

Brad Pitt might actually be turning into Robert Redford.

2. The Help
Here's why I like The Help, in the face of its flaws. I may not have read this book, generally because reading in dialect hurts my head and distracts my attention from the narrative, and the opening of The Help reads too much like The Bobbsey Twins' Dinah. Instead I listened to it on audio on a long drive down the east coast and it kept me good company. Too many storylines, and a few places where I called BS.

The film version removes a few of those extraneous threads to streamline the story, and was a solid adaptation of the main story's beats, which I appreciated. The production design was thorough and genuine, and the direction took us through it subtly, adding to the believability of the world. Violet Davis is breathtaking no matter what she's in, and I wish more and more that Octavia Spencer had played the Rene Zellwiger character in Cold Mountain. I enjoyed meeting Jessica Chastain, who then showed up everywhere I looked this year; Bryce Howard broke out of her bird-bone shell character we usually see her play; and Emma Stone needs to stay with us for, like, ever.

[Movie idea: Bryce Howard and Christina Hendricks. get back to me.]

Bottom line: I was interested in The Help. It was about something that spoke to me -- not because I was a raised in the pre-New Frontier South (which I was not) or that my parents were (which they were) -- but because I am interested in the divisions that create Outsider culture within the sisterhood, and the occasional realization that gender is not a culture of its own, and that nuh-uh, darlin', you don't know me. Even in a room full of women, your class, race, status, profession, children, parents, and (don't deny it) even your marital status can put you on the outside of the power and influence of that very room. This is also what Bridesmaids is about. We will turn on each other as easily as we will pull together, and every day we make the decision to do one or the other.

But it is not my #1. And it almost hurts me to tell you what my #1 is, but you have deduced it by now.

1. The Tree of Life
Let me be clear. There is a snowflake's chance in L.A. this project wins Best Picture. But it was the most engrossing filmic experience I've had in some time.

People with whom I share film taste warned me they couldn't get through it. Specifically, they couldn't get through the first 30 mins. So you know what I did, Readership? I skipped the first 30 minutes. And I recommend you do the same. Watch the opening scenes, then when the dinosaurs come in, move forward - to about 35 minutes. It's beautiful stuff; it's just distracting and annoying, and underlining in heavy black marker what you are supposed to THINK and FEEL. Spielberg does this with a Williams score; Malick does it with the Hubble telescope. I have told you before: skip the opening of any Michener novel, read only the even chapters of The Grapes of Wrath, watch 2001: A Space Odyssey on double-speed. Don't apologize.

Now. Let's get to this film and the aforementioned Jessica Chastain. She is nominated for the wrong role this year, and that is too bad. We have seen this set-up before, and often times an actor will pitch for a Supporting nomination she is more likely to land that go against Streep and Close (neither will win in a year where they are both nominated, and we really ought to just grandmother them). Chastain won't win here either, because this is Octavia's year. For her own resume, she should have landed Lead Actress for The Tree of Life, in which she manages to convey a complete character while saying very little.

I could have formed this essay around the year of the Silent film - so many quiet performances told through camera, movement, faces and gestures. I should give the nominees more credit for that, though in too many cases they were not silent enough. Tree of Life's long opening sermon, which I have already recommended you skip, turned a lot of people off -- literally -- when the visual poem that follows delivers the same sermon much better. This is art-house stuff of the highest order. It will not explain itself to you and it will not to tell you whom to cheer for, or even why. It is not War Horse, though it is a story of a lost boy stumbling into manhood in hard and indifferent world while chasing the strange wild beast he loves but never understands.

Memories come in cinematic flashes like a slide show. This is how your life flashes before your eyes -- at low angles, through a haze, shapes and colors you remember vividly but can't place in the narrative arc of your own story. Strange things will catch your eye, sounds will stay lodged in your psyche, violent impressions will linger as if they happened every day, but maybe occurred only once. Or maybe they did happen every day. Or maybe they never happened at all. You just thought they did as you lay in a dark bedroom watching the moon pass by the window and listening to your parents fight. You never gave those fleeting moments a thought when they were happening, and now you can't get away from them.

The theology of The Tree of Life is heavy-handed. That probably turned a lot of people off too, who do not like to feel religion thrust on them. The Job story is hard to contemplate in any case, since it openly illustrates that God is messing with us, like a kid with a June bug on a string. This is fun exegesis to get into, because whether you believe in a planful God or a "here's the universe; let me know what you need" God, Job tweaks that world view. You have to examine what is says about either view, and what that story is doing in the Bible at all. If you believe in no gods, this much navel-gazing must get square on your nerves. He loves you all the same.

Here's another, less heady, review of the film from the country's great critic.

Prediction: not this film.
None of the bottom 4, though I think War Horse and Hugo will have a go in production categories. I honestly think the race is between The Descendants and The Help. It would be interesting to know if voting fell along gender lines. We never will. I am going to call it for The Descendents because it has been nominated throughout the awards season, but won little, with the exception of The Golden Globe. If Academy voters save their last vote for the neglected nominee, this could be an unexpected turnaround (see The King's Speech over The Social Network; Shakespeare in Love over Saving Private Ryan).

The Academy giveth... the Academy taketh away.

See you on Sunday.

On the spectrum

2012-02-10T22:05:00.000-05:00

One of the Readership....

In spite of the absence of writing, I do still have readers....

...encouraged my to explain this spectrum, just as I explained it to her.

It is high-art movie season -- prime time to explain another chart that exists in my brain, which I discovered I could easily describe without realizing it. Unless I was.

This is the spectrum of Tolerable Fantasy Genres, complete with exceptions that prove the rule. I can not effective illustrate it here, 1) because blogs are limited in their graphical capability and 2) because I am always better at text than with words and 3) my flight takes off in 9 hours, which means I really ought to be sleeping right now.

It is a simple number line: on the left is Absolutely Not; on the right is Hell Yes, and More than Once.

You can live a lot of life on a spectrum like that.

Bored to Tears - by all things outer space/sci-fi. Or, as I said to The Boss when she asked if I knew the Syfy Channel, I said, "I am aware it is misspelled." Outer space science fiction is the extreme left of my tolerable fantasy. I do not care. And I believe you that Firefly or BSG or even Avatar is an exciting thrill ride... for you. I. Do. Not Care.

Exceptions that prove the rule? Star Wars, naturally. Because I am not dead inside, and because I am, after all, culturally a Gen X, mo matter what the census says.

Apollo 13 - because that is not fantasy; that is real.

Star Trek TOS - for kitsch. And I only called it TOS just now to appeal to those of you who reside on this end of the spectrum, and who are my friends, though I am sure begrudgingly on your part.

Completely Irritated by Middle Earth, Narnia, and all Universes where people have names with too many consonants and not enough shampoo. File Clan of the Cave Bear under here also.
Exception...? I really don't know. I can't imagine what

Draw a fat dotted line at this point. The left of this line is pretty non-negotiable. I don't judge you for playing on that side of the fence. I'm not going to talk you out of it. Just... do it some other weekend, a'iight?

In this middle ground, you'll find a mix that might surprise you. I believe they move to the right in this order:

Aliens are on the other side of the fence from crews of people emphasizing exposition in actual outer space. I don't know why. maybe because the rules vary more.

Is Sigourney's jaw bigger than the Aliens? It's debatable.
District 9 - yes.
War of the Worlds - no
Close Encounters is much more boring than you remember, and is mostly a haunted child story.

Monsters - Vampires moved to the other side of the wall in the past few years, just by over-exposure. I am interested in reboots, though, so I'll give the film-maker a listen when there is something new to say.

not that new.

Pan's Labyrinth - brilliant.

Superheroes. DC universe has been especially good at this, but maybe I am just more DC than Marvel. I have now started a comic nerd's favorite debate. But I will not participate in it. I can't hold my own in such a discussion. If I am honest with myself, Superman is actually an alien. And Batman is a vigilante.
Dark Knight is a great one; I liked Batman Begins even better.
Spiderman made me change the channels.

Time Travel. Did I really put time travel to the right of superheroes? I can't explain it myself. This genre is full of the most irritating tropes and cliches. But sometimes it's a fun era. And this is dead zero on the spectrum, where it can really go either way.

Somewhere in Time can not be beaten, but it takes an Edwardian to say so.
Midnight in Paris - shut up. Stop talking. Your mother's calling. Go away.

(I haven't actually seen Kate & Leopold. It looked like it would make me want to smack them. or myself)

Magical Realism - when magical things happen in real life, I am actually much more interested than when entire universes are created on other planets.

Big, for example. delightful.
Barton Fink I didn't understand for 1 second, but I couldn't look away.

Greek Mythology - see, now we are talking. I won't abide the elves and the hobbits, but Minotaurs and Gorgons? bring them on.
And ancient Rome? more please. because now we are in the realm of...

Biblical Epics - I love a bloated Biblical Epic. The bloatier, the better.
Even when it's bad, it's good.
I won't make you site through them. Because payback on that is a bitch.

Having some work done

2012-01-27T21:39:00.000-05:00

At our mutual birthday outing, Karen asked, "After 48 years, you just got tired of looking at it?"

That's it, exactly.
I got tired of looking at it.

I should have asked her in the first place. Because I didn't get to "I'm just tired of looking at it," without several months of soul-searching over whether this was a vanity. I was going to write about that, but I know the Readership is much more entertained by my expeditions into the world of American medicine.

Ten minutes every year, my Dr asks what's on my mind and I never have anything interesting for her to do, so I said, "I'm thinking of having my mole removed."

She shrugs, hands in lab coat pockets, and says"Sure. why not." Healthcare reform, indeed.

You can convince yourself that a skin growth on your face is barely noticeable and it's just one of your features, and why go through the hassle (and is it Vanity??!!) -- but let me tell you, when you refer to it as "my mole," and everyone knows what you're talking about, even by phone, then you are on the right track.

Except at the dermatologist's, of course. They say, "which one?"

Or, as Jay once said, "You finally changed your glasses, thank God."

Here is the list of things you thought I would worry about.

What if it changes the whole look of your face?
Karen and I share a shuddering fascination for true mirrors, which do not reverse your image, but instead show you exactly as the world sees you. Whenever I see a photo of myself, I think the mole is in the wrong place. And it is all I can see.

What if you lose your super powers?
Only Greatest of All Sisters would know I really did consider this -- I knew a woman who lost her music scholarship after an accident ruined her embouchure. Probably my facination with that sentence is greater than any true belief that my encyclopedic knowledge of TV trivia or uncanny sense of time are actually related to this undeveloped twin.

By the way, did you know Barbara Gordon is now in a wheelchair?

But that's your Marilyn Monroe beauty mark..
You're sweet. But 1. hers might not have been real.

and 2. If you're going to have Lauren Hutton's gap, you'd better be Lauren Hutton.

What if you catch on fire?
Yes, of course this was my own question. (Whoever let me work in healthcare....)
After our initial meeting, though, where I learned we were doing this with a scapel and not a laser, with novocain and not gas, and...that I was out of my mind, I was fine.

What if it leaves a worse scar?
Well, this had kept me from it for years. I thought, if I'm going for an eye-catching facial disfigurement, we can mark that already complete.

How do you bandage a lip?
We're using a sling instead.

Was it getting bigger?

No. My face is getting smaller . You think LBG was born with those earlobes?

Will it be biopsied?
Yes - how else would insurance cover it?

Did you watch?
I kept my eyes shut through the whole thing, which was only 10 minutes, so that wasn't hard.

Do you have body dysmorphic disorder?
No, but I may have decided to do it just because it didn't have to be orchestrated, discussed with anyone, or dependent on committee.
And that's its own kind of disorder.

But is it a vanity?
It is. But I have room for the occasional human weakness.

Birthday gifts of a bygone era

2012-01-12T18:29:00.000-05:00

I miss when a birthday meant someone gave you.....

Giant Money: In anybody's hand, this is some serious coin. In a child's hand, it's a Frisbee.

Shaped Cake: The people at Baker's believed all frosting should be coconut frosting. Earlier today, Dodie said, "You like coconut? Why have I never known that?" I said, "Because yoooo don't like coconut. So we never ate it."

Dangerous toys! (sorry we fell out of love with you, all-things-missile.)
Anything that cooked, soldered, stabbed, glowed, or swallowed easily (subcategory: Lite-Brite peg, marble, Barbie shoe, Monopoly house, Sea Monkey)

Qiana: more fashion through chemistry

SKATES!

Hard-cover books. soooo fancy. Special occasion.

Electronica.

who-o-o-aa-a.

Fast food coupons.
50 cent coupon guzenta giant money.... 2 Saturdays. Free toy inside will be mini jarts. Don't swallow them. Or these cookies.

Bike accessories: Because, man, they wore out. Get the streamer ones, hide stuff inside your handlebars and cover with metallic streamer grips.

Weird clothes you were supposed to "grow into" (and might return to in 60 years...)

I stop at 10. The rest is up to you.

Occupy Gymnasium: "The Explosive Generation"

2012-01-02T23:52:00.002-05:00

(click images to enlarge)

Whatever the opposite of "Spoilers" are, these are the top 10 of them for streaming The Explosive Generation right now.

1. SHATNER

2. In blue jeans. (sadly, the cuffs are much too deep)

3. Teenaged Patty McCormack
(Nic-Nac Patty Mac, hit 'im with your shoe....)

4. Beau Bridges. outstanding.

5. My boyfriend Billy Gray, 23 playing 17, looking 38

6. The Hygiene Film Method is swell, all right.

7. Absentee parents
"Why did this have to happen when your father was out of town!?"

8. 50's Flash Mob!

9. With Bongos!

10. Big Important Speeches

The Boomers clash with Squares and Pigs to get their first taste of Be-Ins. It's a solid gas.

Instant Cure

2011-12-31T09:58:00.002-05:00

If you wait long enough, the DSM will simply edit you out.

Miss Bender is not a clinician, or medically trained to any degree. She is simply an enthusiastic spinster with literary training and an obsession for deconstructing text...

Like new sports in the Olympics, and slang in the American Heritage Dictionary, society awaits the generational sweep-up of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders . Version 5 is upon us!
Oooh, it feels like Christmas.

Who's Out: It's the social register you are glad excludes you, and with Version 5 the following Disorders are being redefined.

Mental Retardation. Well, what do you know about that. Intellectual Developmental Disorder will no longer be coded mild, moderate, severe, profound by IQ range.

Autism Spectrum Disorders will be more specifically identified, over DSM-IV, including the simple, but key description: "Symptoms together limit and impair everyday functioning." Limit and impair, which means you high functioning austistic types just became less autistic. On the other hand, you might now be obsessive/compulsive, so stick with the devil you know, I say....

My favorite sentence from the APA might be that the current "criteria [for austism] were equivalent to trying to “cleave meatloaf at the joints”.

Body Dysmorphic Disorder : no longer limited to body fat or weight. This is not specified in Version IV, but apparently assumed, since Version 5 stipulates, "appearance preoccupations are not restricted to concerns with body fat or weight in an eating disorder."

Blanket Narcissism (what I call the Ass-tism Spectrum, or.. no more meds for being a general jerk). Version 5 puts the screws to narcissists just where they want them, but making it more about them. To appreciate the big change to our friend T-05, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, you can study the current diagnosis, which emphasizes a "pattern of behavior," against the proposed revision, which emphasizes the results of those patterns, to self and interpersonal relationships. Says the APA, "Impairments in the self and interpersonal domains were deemed by the Work Group to be most characteristic of personality disorders."

Gender Identity Disorder is renamed Gender Dysphoria, and for an interesting look into identity, read the Rationale for the change, which was originally proposed as "Gender Incongruence" until a consult from the World Professional Association for Transgender Health.

"disorder" has a specific clinical definition, which is,

A clinically significant behavioral or psychological syndrome or pattern that occurs in an individual [which is] associated with present distress...[and is not] merely an expectable and culturally sanctioned response to a particular event...

In the case of Gender Dysmorphia, also note that the Sexual and Identity Disorders Workgroup stated

We also debated and discussed the merit of placing this condition in a special category apart from...psychiatric diagnoses to reflect its unusual status as a mental condition treated with cross-sex hormones, gender reassignment surgery, and social and legal transition to the desired gender.... We chose not to make any decision between its categorization as a psychiatric or a medical condition and wished to avoid jeopardizing either insurance coverage or treatment access (Drescher, 2010). (emphasis is again mine. None else italicizes quite this much.)

Childhood Gender Identity Disorder is severely specified as a mental illness as 6 of 8 traits must now be present to classify as Gender Dysphoria in Children, where DSM-IV requires only 4 of 5 traits, and does not include the statement "clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning, or with a significantly increased risk of suffering, such as distress or disability."

(those italics were actually already there)

DSM-5 may revive the definition of "disorder" as well, thanks to the worst-named workteam in the world of corporate bureaucracy, the Anxiety, Obsessive-Compulsive, Posttraumatic, and Dissociative Disorders Work Group.

I hope they ordered mugs.

Next time you think your little mission statement task force spends too much time arguing over its acronym, you might just let them take their time.

The committee of the sad would like to tweak this language somewhat; for example "reflects an underlying psychobiological dysfunction" rather than "is a manifestation of..." That sort of thing.

So....What's In:

Obsessive-Compulsives, this is your time! Skin-Picking Disorder and Hoarding -- now rate their own entries!

Exhibitionists, you've become so diversified that we need Types for you:

Sexually Attracted to Exposing Genitals to Pubescent or Prepubescent Individuals (Generally Younger Than Age 15)
Sexually Attracted to Exposing Genitals to Physically Mature Individuals (Generally Age 15 or Older)
Equally Sexually Attracted to Exposing Genitals to Both Age Groups

You must be so proud...

Unspecified Depressive Disorder - still under review, but on the table for Version 5. In case Big Pharma can not reach you on one of the 8 other categories (including Premenstrual Dysphoria, so watch your "edginess." That's also a clinical term), they may soon have a catch-all bucket for you.

Medical codes for Agoraphobia! It's all about the coding for you and your IN'sharns company. In exchange, you must now be agoraphobic for more than 6 months, it must impair your functioning (WoW does not qualify), and you have to test out of 5 other disorders first (which is true today).

Back to Body Dysmorphia, proposed revision would include repetitive behaviors in response to the dysmorphia, which at a stretch could include cosmetic surgeries.

Dyslexia - was always in there, but called "Reading Disorder." In addition to its new name, it aligns better with IDEA regulations, which address achievement potential in people with learning disabilities, a potential DSM-IV does not recognize. And for those of us in the adaptive technologies and access game, the removal of "comprehension" as one of the reading difficulties associated with dyslexia is a major win. With the right access to the written word, people with dyslexia comprehend just fine.

As for the switch to Arabic numerals, the APA has gone digital with the rest of American Medicine -- this allows them to make point revisions like 5.2 and 5.3, which translate better than IV-TR did. Because no one could figure out what number TR was.

Other people's houses

2011-12-23T18:03:00.001-05:00

Other people's houses are cozy and comfortable.
Your house is full of chores and clutter.

Other people's cable is escapist, surprising, nostalgic.
Your cable is full of stupid repeats.

Other people's pets are affectionate and adorable.
Your pets lick their butts.

Other people's houses have beer in them.
Mmmmmm beeeerrrrr....

Here's to out of town friends. Happy Holidays.

Missing Persons

2011-12-20T22:17:00.000-05:00

What a difference a month makes. Those of you trying to follow the veiled mill updates deserve some news, after the most recent -- because everything old is new again.

When we last checked in, some of the Readership were condemning my strategy of remaining invisible to the New Brass, and the joke's on you. Because both of these yo-yos have been voted off of our show.

In a murder-suicide, she sent Crazy packing, then followed him by about a week. And we are right back where we started from. She held a new record, in fact, for shortest term in that chair. We now choose it by lottery, if you're playing.

The Big Project I am Unqualified to Run (the B-PUR) continues to hang on without showing any signs of progress. I don't know why I chose Miss Haversham for this paragraph -- I guess because it was a Great Expectation and went all berserkers. And because a picture of Karen Ann Quinlan seemed mean.

Poor B-PUR has no idea that it was completely eclipsed by B-PICS, The Big Project I Inherited from my Co-Shirker -- who, if I ever see him again gets a kick in the throat. About B-PICS, I can say very little. My Ace in the Hole is reminding the customer that they insisted I manage it.

I have a meeting with Customer Who Wants Me Dead the week I get back. I think quite seriously about never going back. This may also be what keeps me from booking the west coast trip -- because I don't want to be stuck with it if I am no longer in the traveling-to-the-west-coast business.

I must not be wearing the right shoulder scarves.

A Day in Pompeii

2011-12-10T08:33:00.001-05:00

I began collecting catastrophes quite young. One of the first in the collection was the destruction of Pompeii in 79. 1900 years after it happened (that is...in MCMLXXIX, what a mouth full) my Latin project was a no-walls diorama with smoldering Vesuvius in the background, and on the road in forced perspective, Army men I had covered in tape, stick side out, rolled in sand, then spray-painted gray. Moerere mortui qui sunt in plateis.

Yesterday, on something of a whim, I decided to spend my day off touring "A Day in Pompeii" at the Science Museum.

There is no "good time" to visit a Science Museum if you want to avoid buses full of teenagers -- or worse, PRE-teenagers -- but I hoped that Friday afternoon this close to a holiday break might.... oh, who am I kidding. They filled the room, with their "oh my god, you guys," and their "Dude"s and giggling at statues' penises, but really, they were mostly harmless. Just loud. The poor docents tried to get them excited about "being an archeologist for a day," but all they were interested in was the gift shop and getting a Sobe.

So I turned my mind off to them, and concentrated on standing in front of the very things I had become so familiar with from every "amazing true life disaster" stories I had ever gobbled up.

This was not one of them -- though this is often the illustration you'll see when you crack a Pompeii overview. "Cave Canem," the Beware of Dog mosaic, was also not present. Nor were many of the fresco sections on exhibit of the erotic kind, which is also typical of what was uncovered (har har) in the dig, but not often exhibited. There were some there, all right, but if it wasn't on the students' worksheet, they weren't going to spend time on it. One student was overheard imitating their teacher, in a goofy doi-doi voice, "If you're going to get anything out of this, you're going to have to read things." Boys giggled, "yeh, right." which I was pleased to hear kids still say.

I have noticed recently, a recurring question of small kids to their adult keepers, which is, "Is this real?" Maybe we said that too, a little smarter than children of an earlier century who took faerie photos at face value and knew that Santa preferred Coca-Cola to milk. (I mixed those time periods - don't write letters). I think that if we asked "Is this real?" we meant, "pinch me I'm dreaming." In a world where everything can be simulated, and a small child can't read gallery notes in dim lighting, "Is this real" is an early attempt at critical thinking -- especially when faced with a writhing collection of fused skeletons, some of them smaller than you.

Stand around long enough and you'll learn that adult keepers do not read gallery notes either, as a dozen misunderstandings of what the castings are were passed along to new generations. But let me add, in their defense, that there was very little science in this science museum exhibit, and most of it was written on the wall in this museum famous for its hands-on exploration of how things work. A representation of how casts were made, and how they remain preserved would have helped make that more clear. A digital animation of the destruction played in a loop, but without any explanation of how this eruption was different from other eruptions. Most disappointing to me was the lack of detail on the dig itself -- a project with a 250 year timeline of its own.

But oh well, meet things where they are, not where they are not, and enjoy being in the presence of that which is real, and no longer a picture in a book: the tethered dog, the loose pig, Man on the Staircase, the Embracing Couple. Everyday items from antiquity are enough of a wonder, though I tend to think more about how the lot is quilt-wrapped up, inventoried, and shipped around. How an archeologist decides how a handful of bronze fittings become a reconstructed scale, or how they determined what that mother-of-pearl spoon was used for. I want footnotes. Ok, I guess I want hyperlinks. Is this real? How do we know?

Time your visit to see the OmniMax "Ring of Fire" film in the same time frame. I missed it, but hung out in the Theatre of Electricity, which is always entertaining, if not fully informative either. I could have stayed home and watched this for free.

So I went to Wegman's.....

2011-12-03T17:11:00.001-05:00

Mike asked, "Have you been to Wegman's? Do they have them up there?" Yes, Wegman's has infiltrated, and has an aggressive expansion plan, but right now is found in Northborough, MA only... about 10 miles from my place. This is not close enough to become my grocery store, and the finest minds on my board of directors had advised they would not go on opening weekend... or for several weekends. They also advised me not to watch The Ring alone. I don't always listen, but I had not yet been moved to visit Wegman's.

Now that I reduced my grocery buying to under 10 staple goods, that I can almost program a robot to select through a series of If/Then statements, I can't get interested in Event Shopping, such as that celebrated by Wegmans and its loyal shoppers.

This is not a review of Wegmans. I was not there long enough to form an opinion, other than "I can't breathe," and "where is the emergency stop on this ride?" It is a review of me in Wegmans.

Due to a series of unfortunate career choices, the next couple of weeks are about to be full of the least interesting area of my life, so I thought I would use today to get some other areas attended to -- namely, food, shelter, Christmas shopping.   Down to Dudley (I wasn't kidding about that), then to Christmas Trees Shops in Shrewsbury for something terribly clever to put my gifts in.

Don't you just... love a bargain?

Christmas Tree Shops (always in the plural, please, and with the invisible W) on the first weekend was certainly crowded, but fairly subdued. It does no good to get to CTS "early," because the inventory changes all the time. But people do get more desperate and territorial in the 2nd and 3rd weekends, so I needed to get in and out as efficiently as possible. I had no plan at all to go to Wegmans.

I blame the sign.

The Northborough Crossing is not on Rt 9. But the sign is.
Now that's just sneaky. Or brilliant.

With a low fuel warning dinging at me, I decided to give the Market to end all Markets a try. It was all about this lamb stew I was going to try in the crockpot, the belief that they would have a better selection than my local, and the sign said it was right over there....

I am no stranger to SUPER supermarkets, or precious shopping experiences. I lived through the 80s, remember - the polished stones under the raw fish at J. Bildners, the minimalist shelving of Units, the Mass Ave Bread & Circus. So I can tell you that we have seen Wegmans before. What it is doing differently is being every grocery store that ever turned a young urbanites head all in one building.

Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! All under One Big Top ~~ the greatest grocery gimmicks on earth!

Start with a Central Market as your shell. Standing empty, they look very much like a BJs or a Home Depot.
Devote one end to being Marche. Only, New Englanders will not move as slowly as Europeans do, so it needs to be a little more self-serve cafeteria-ish... like a Roche Brothers. Be sure to have plenty of bulk bins, like Whole Foods, and quirky boutique brands like Trader Joes. Note the bright yellow "We're just the local Green Grocer" signs that feel one smiley short of Wal-Mart, and "Club priced" meats for the folks who just journeyed across the parking lot from BJs. Lots of little samples everywhere are real crowd-pleasers, even Stop and Shop knows that.

Now: cram it full of people and make the aisles too small for carriages, like we are used to at CVS. Artificially shorten the distance from door to counter, like Dunkin Donuts does, and now you are really in a place where things are HAPPENING.

How can you NOT buy out their inventory of lamb??

It really was a nice selection. It was just more than I wanted to pay. But of course, paying more than you want to is part of event grocery shopping. You work hard for the money, and why can't you have those savory cheese straws if you want them? That bread looks awesome. It's $5.99, but smell it! I was plowed between carts and jostled by couples, and overwhelmed by bread in 3 places 10 self-serve bars of one kind or another, and... really, it was a Christmas Tree aftershock, I think. In a 5 year old, we just call this a meltdown.

I lasted about 5 minutes. My car's exhaust system was still pinging and clanging when I returned to the safety of it

I'll take you there when you visit, just for something to do. We can marvel at why such a top-shelf grocery is the anchor of a shopping plaza that includes Dress Barn and Pay-Less, and how in the world it competes with BJs in the same complex. Let's go at 7am or after midnight, and not on a Saturday in December.

I found this picture while working on this post. It is not meant to be a concluding statement. I just love it.

NaBloPoMo is Done

2011-12-01T08:00:00.002-05:00

don't be greedy.

...when she finally concluded at the end by summarizing....

2011-11-30T23:12:00.001-05:00

There ought to be something profound to say at the end of National Blog Post Month. Ok, profundity is a stretch, but something meaningful anyway. What's it all about, etc.

It has not been easy to make space for it every night -- reading other people's finds on the Internet are always more interesting than anything I think I might say about them, and there are plenty of topics I did not get to this month that I had listed ou on my little listie.

I thought for sure there would be an "Occupy" commentary. I need to get back in the election swing for Decision 2012, but I felt like it was all being said. Or tweeted. Or photoshopped. Or videoed.

I wanted to explore what goes on in the Fellowship Tract League -- the pamphlet people. A lot, I discovered, but their own website covers it, really. They make a tract in ASL. I cock my head.

The guy in the center is reading "Porn XXX." He super-sized.

I had some art-nostic opinions about the new Walton-funded art museum in Arkansas, but I think NPR got to them first. Or maybe that's where I got them in the first place.

After learning my hiking boots had been retired by New Balance, I fantasized George Mallory trying to find a new alpine hat for his next Base Camp visit. That scene amused me until I was home, then I was done with it. The way that story really ends is that I found the 2007 model (mine are 1999, all right - I admit it), which has also been retired, and bought 2 pair. If I am still hiking at 60, please teleport me to New Balance so I can show off these shoes.

Push came to shove during the holiday week and I had to borrow from other sources in order to both unplug for vacation and fulfill this inconsequential obligation. They were my sources, though, so it's cool.

I am always interested in reading the site traffic report, and will have to see what happened over the past month. Besides the NaBlo traffic, I am grateful to the Non-Fiction Class at Plymouth State U for their interest and feedback. I had nothing profound to say to them either about what motivates me to keep blogging -- particularly in the dark, anonymously, about nothing of much significance whatsoever.

I guess because it is there.

Thanks for supporting the bloggers in your life. We do what we can to break up the day.

Double bubble

2011-11-29T20:47:00.001-05:00

A loyal reader asks:

So what am I supposed to call the stuff, anyway? Seltzer? Soda Water? Sparkling Water? Club Soda? Tonic? Our favorite: "Fizzy Water." And is there actually a difference, or are these just different words (regionalisms?) for exactly the same thing?

I am pleased to oblige.

First, there was Water. And it was Good.
Because I stopped listening to science around 6th grade, I believe that you should theoretically be able to make water out of air. I realize that's not true -- it requires some curly-que'd flasks and a thing that goes buzz -- but water you know.

Now gas it up: your water needs more elements in it. It's name is Legion, but I believe there are connotative differences in the term you choose. The origins of the terms themselves are covered in delightful detail on Wikipedia. Pay them or don't pay them; that's their business. We were talking about me.

Seltzer conjures up the art deco spray bottle on the bar that Nick Charles handled so well. Because of that, to me, seltzer is the hard bubbles, the dangerous bottle that has to be opened like cracking a safe. We say it so it rhymes with salsa, and as I have mentioned, Polah makes the craziest Seltzah flavahs evah. It is in fact the same thing as sparkling water. but sparkling water is softer: Pelligrino, for example. Seltzer in the Social Register.
Perrier is too oily, far too soft, and is mineral water anyway. Why accept nature's bubbles when you can trick them out?

"Fizzy Water" is accurate (and charming). It will get you through a language barrier. It could get you served a bromide.

Bromo Seltzer - is your remedy for not having drunk seltzer. It is Tylenol + bicarb + citric acid. And you deserve it. Alka-Seltzer is bicarb + potassium bicarbonate + citric acid, and indistinguishable from Efferdent.

Barley water is what Mary Poppins never smells of. The more you learn about British foods, the more you understand the Revolution.

Club Soda contains added salt. Why? I have no idea. Club Soda is what you say on the airplane, or in any establishment where you know they will not know what seltzer is. It comes out of the gun at the bar. They have it.

Tonic is not club soda. Tonic is the vile mosquito repellent so undrinkable that is requires gin to make it go down. (And they do play nicely together once you introduce them.) Tonic is carbonated water + qunine, and according to Wikipedia, it glows in UV light. You try it; I'm not gonna.

Seltzer Madness

2011-11-28T22:37:00.000-05:00

Ever try to buy seltzer in a grocery store outside of New England? Are you right now asking, "what's seltzer?" Can't feature what a seltzer aisle even looks like? No SUH!

This story will amuse you even more. There is a new sheriff in town over at the Polar Seltzer, and by the looks of it, s/he was recently transferred from Yankee Candle. Because this is a terrible idea.

You don't have to taste it to know it is a terrible idea. But I did taste it, and I am still resentful, weeks later. (I am also on day 27 of this blog-a-thon, and even Jerry Lewis eventually loosened his bow tie. I'll write about anything at this point, but that press release opener...? Manna.)

A gateway to seltzer? Why does Polar need to push its bubbly deliciousness on anyone? Because they just bought a bottling facility in Georgia (from Winn-Dixie, saints preserve us) and the South needs more than carbonation to get its drink on.

Premium seltzers. Seltzer costs 88 cents a half gallon. It's hardly premium. And in spite of everything else we learned in the Rich & Famous 80s, "gross" is not a synonym for "gourmet."

The season's most beloved aromas. This is not tea. This is seltzer. As a mixer, I might buy it (metaphorically. Not literally. not at half price).

A healthier choice of refreshment. Because if you can't drink it, it can't hurt you.

Granny Smith Apple : Jolly Rancher plus a facial masque without any of the afterglow of Woodchuck.

Cinnamon: a candle over ice. How refreshing!

Candy Cane:

Pumpkin Spice: Lemme tell you something, pumpkin. I have been your biggest champion. But you are this close to getting kicked out of this car. Settle. Down .

Eggnog: now you've made me mad.

Predicting the Cinco de Mayo flavors:
Chipotle
Mole
Pinata full of Chiclets
Dulce de Leche
Margarita Lime... ok, maybe not so bad. They may have gotten to me.

Hope you're enjoying National Blogpost Month.
Here's another NaBloPoMo participant for you to enjoy.
http://veritiesandbalderdash.wordpress.com/

Heroes on the run

2011-11-27T19:07:00.001-05:00

#37 in an occasional series of repressed 70's memories that turn out to be true.

Let me explain the differences between Run, Joe Run and Run, Joey, Run. They are subtle.

If you are looking for the ballad of teen lovers, sung to the baseline of Shaft... or just really like primitive music videos (see... red symbolizes blood, man) you want to go here.

If you want to explore why so many of Saturday morning's line-up was made up of fugitives, stay right where you are.

Run, Joe, Run
Amnesty-seeking Canine GI wigs out during a training exercise and attacks his trainer.... or does he? To escape the gas, he takes to the run. And we are to believe that his $200 bounty is enough to make him vulnerable to fortune seekers. Take a Lude, Joe - you are totally harshing. Anyway, Joe becomes the stranger who lopes to town, and helps others as he helps himself. I need the readership to explain how this accusation against Joe came about, since his own trainer is trying to clear his name. Total Television is silent on this account.

I believe that's William Cannon on the opening narration. Expository intros were in vogue, as we have addressed before. Give that Tarzan a new listen, too, and tell me if that is Richard Chamberlain. It would explain everything about my need to commit to memory. Tarzan, however, is no fugitive. It is easy to confuse him with

Lucan

"unjustly accused" of killing some drug-dealers he takes up the baton dropped by his cultural cousin Joe while on the run from the university's bounty hunters. That's what I said.

Why was Kung Fu on the run? I couldn't remember. "I like to think he killed a man; it's the Romantic in me..." Caine had to leave China, but it wasn't for the glamor of working the railroad. That was just a bonus. If you ever wondered how s-l-o-w-l-y a prime time drama could move, watch a little Kung Fu. Let me know if you make it through this clip.

The Incredible Hulk was not a Saturday show either -- CBS put their spring replacement into the fall season on Friday nights, first in a strong double bill with Wonder Woman, then later as a weird opening choice for the Dukes. [:02 DIXIE]. "The creature is wanted for a murder he didn't commit..." blah blah you know it by now and the "raging spirit that dwells within him."

You know who they mean....
Hell hath no fury like the decorated vet scorned....

Setting the stage for this crew:
armed and bloody well for hire. The A Team is grumpily pursued by a full bird Colonel who apparently can't delegate enough to get some NonComs to do his dirty work for him... like they did in the Nam, brother.

Hope you're enjoying National Blogpost Month.
Here's another NaBloPoMo participant for you to enjoy.
http://forty-fiveseventeen.blogspot.com/

Practically perfect afternoon

2011-11-26T22:20:00.001-05:00

Someone is about to confiscate the tambourines.

I don't mean to suggest by this title that there were flaws in the afternoon. If there was anything less-than-perfect, it was that I had to end it so early, due to living so far out and needing so much to do before returning to my routine life. I certainly could have extended.

Some things you do just to blog about them. Some things you do for the officially sanctioned freedom of singing "Sister Suffragette" at the top of your voice in a public place. This was the latter.

Sing-along Mary Poppins at Arlington's beautiful Regent Theatre has one more showing this weekend, and you need to get down there to help skew the average age to those who can actually read the lyrics... and BOO the Bankers when they chant "Think of the Foreclosures!!"

It is a damn shame we did not have this theatre event in my youth, because I would have been there every weekend, in an era where you certainly could afford to go to the movies every weekend (and a horror flick screamer was 94 cents). What is also a damn shame is that kids today have to be so disaffected so young, because this is best enjoyed by a 7th or 8th grader (what we would have done with Grease!) who would be Too Cool for The Musicool these days. The audience at our showing was mostly under 10, mostly girls, mostly unable to sing-along.

But boy howdee, could they bang a tambourine.

The owner of the Regent -- an exurbent Boomer with a fleece jacket featuring the dogs' poker table -- provided each participant with a bag of supplies: tambourine, glo-sticks (for the rooftop fireworks), spoon (for sugar), tiny mug (for tea party on the ceiling), and tuppence (for choking on). The film comes with a few instructions, but the tambourines caught on right away.

Props missing were cannon (for chiming the hour on a film that runs 139 minutes), rotten eggs for throwing at the Prime Minister, the Time Warp, and rum punch (hic). But the kids held up fine. There was one meltdown as Mary Poppins prepared to leave (after the longest week in cinema history). Or maybe the poor tyke finally figured out what suffrage was.

Best synopsis ever, from imdb: "A magic nanny comes to work for a cold banker's unhappy family."
(Do not confuse with "A failed novice comes to work for a bitter captain's unhappy family." That opens in December) .

At the earlier showing, the 2nd grader in full Jolly Holiday get-up no doubt won the costume contest. At our showing were 2 boys who made knickers by shoving their pants into their socks, and 20 other kids who just took the owner up on his offer to walk across the stage.

He read us several interesting trivia points, which 8th graders (ok, Dodie and I) would have enjoyed -- then we would have stayed after and begged him to screen Oliver! next. The little ones weren't listening, but we adults enjoyed the tip of looking for men in drag in the Nanny Applicants' line.

If it has been a while since you watched this film straight through, particularly with 20 5 year-olds, you'll want to prepare them for the long talky bits of insufferable Mr Banks. You'll want to prepare yourself for how LONG the Jolly Holiday is. I chose "I Love to Laugh" as my bathroom break. You'll want to be fully refreshed for the Dance of the Chimney Sweeps.

On this Small Business Saturday, this is the event we chose - and you can still get in on Rolf and Lisl's turn in the gazebo. The Regent is a fantastic independent venue of music, theatre, comedy, and film in the heart of Arlington, MA. If you can't get here, activate the closed captions on your own home theatre and dream up your own props for any of the films mentioned above, or perhaps Wizard of Oz, Newsies, or Hello Dolly. The kids love Dolly Levi.

This is my favorite Mary Poppins bit on the Internet. It has been around a while, but still delivers.

Hope you're enjoying National Blogpost Month.
Here's another NaBloPoMo participant for you to enjoy.
http://www.swearypoppins.com