Poisoned Arrows

People Are People

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sat, 25 Oct 2014 16:47:00 +0000

GMOs Oregon Ballot Measure 92

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Wed, 22 Oct 2014 07:10:00 +0000

Here is a local article outlining who is supporting and opposing GMO labeling and why, but this paragraph pretty much sums it up:

Labeling supporters say there aren’t enough studies on the impacts of GMOs, so consumers have a right to know if they are eating them. Critics say mandatory labels would mislead consumers into thinking engineered ingredients are unsafe, which scientists have not proven.

When your position is that science needs to prove that eating something is going to hurt us BEFORE we ban (or even label) it, I think you're really grasping. How about if science proves that it's safe FIRST and then we eat it? You might be wondering why we can't just eat good old-fashioned food, and the sad answer is that no corporation can monopolize and capitalize off of that, therefore it's a bad idea all around.

Vote YES on Measure 92 - at least make Monsanto and Pepsico work for it just a little.

Columbus Day

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Tue, 14 Oct 2014 02:47:00 +0000

Lifted from AK Press:

It seems there are still some people out there who celebrate Columbus Day. If you happen to know any of them, please share this description from Bartolome de las Casas of the sort of civilized and heroic behavior Columbus brought to the "new" world:
"And the Christians, with their horses and swords and pikes began to carry out massacres and strange cruelties against them. They attacked the towns and spared neither the children nor the aged nor pregnant women nor women in childbed, not only stabbing them and dismembering them but cutting them to pieces as if dealing with sheep in the slaughter house. They laid bets as to who, with one stroke of the sword, could split a man in two or could cut off his head or spill out his entrails with a single stroke of the pike. They took infants from their mothers' breasts, snatching them by the legs and pitching them headfirst against the crags or snatched them by the arms and threw them into the rivers, roaring with laughter and saying as the babies fell into the water, 'Boil there, you offspring of the devil!' Other infants they put to the sword along with their mothers and anyone else who happened to be nearby. They made some low wide gallows on which the hanged victim's feet almost touched the ground, stringing up their victims in lots of thirteen, in memory of Our Redeemer and His twelve Apostles, then set burning wood at their feet and thus burned them alive. To others they attached straw or wrapped their whole bodies in straw and set them afire. With still others, all those they wanted to capture alive, they cut off their hands and hung them round the victim's neck, saying, "Go now, carry the message," meaning, Take the news to the Indians who have fled to the mountains. They usually dealt with the chieftains and nobles in the following way: they made a grid of rods which they placed on forked sticks, then lashed the victims to the grid and lighted a smoldering fire underneath, so that little by little, as those captives screamed in despair and torment, their souls would leave them...."

For more on the history of Christopher Columbus' voyage, check out this article by William Loren Katz.

Oregon GMO Labeling

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sat, 11 Oct 2014 02:07:00 +0000

From the Institute for Responsible Technology:

"Oregon voters are being hammered with a huge disinformation campaign about Measure 92 funded by the likes of Monsanto, PepsiCo and Dow to the tune of $5.45 MILLION."

If they want to poison our food supply, they can own up to it with proper labeling. They can pretend it's about "freedom" of choice for consumers (to "choose" to eat chemicals, genetically modified organisms, cheap sugar substitutes and food "enhancers" that make us fat and sick), but what they really advocate is the freedom of corporations to bully independent farmers and put whatever crap in our food they want if we're stupid, desperate or uneducated enough to pay them money for it. If you believe the purpose of food and food production is for the sustenance and health of all people, not for corporate profit, speak with your ballot.

Vote yes on Measure 92.

Charity vs Justice

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Thu, 09 Oct 2014 06:46:00 +0000

This article is old, but still applicable, and addresses the curious phenomenon of the right-wing American Catholic - some snippets:

“I see people mixing up charity with social justice,” says Ernest Revoir, director of the Diocese of Metuchen, New Jersey’s Office of Social Justice. “Someone’s hungry, you give them food. That’s good, but charity doesn’t get to the root cause.”

"Or people get lost in thinking that the only social justice question is the right to life, when it’s really the dignity of human life in all its stages.”

Marianne Majewski, director of Catholic Charities in the Metuchen diocese, says she’s constantly surprised by how many Catholics don’t understand church teaching on social justice and how many don’t even believe that people have the right to food or shelter, for instance.

In the words of Pope Francis, "An authentic faith always implies a deep desire to change the world."

Should Everyone Vote?

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sun, 05 Oct 2014 18:45:00 +0000

Carl Gibson says:

"Too many people think that by not voting, they’re making a political statement that they have no confidence in our current political system. But in reality, not showing up to vote is making a de facto political statement that they accept the status quo and see no reason to show up to change it. In contrast, by showing up to vote, you’re making the statement that as a citizen, you’re paying attention to what people being paid with your tax dollars to make decisions on your behalf are doing. And if they aren’t representing your interests with your votes, you’re exercising your right to fire them. When you have the opportunity to cast your ballot and don’t, you’re letting corrupt, ineffective elected officials know that things in your life are good enough that you’ll let them keep their jobs."

It's a nice idea, and everyone should vote. The problem is, good luck finding a candidate to vote for who isn't going to protect the status quo.

Speak for the Indigenous

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Thu, 02 Oct 2014 18:44:00 +0000

Uncontacted Indians face imminent “tragedy”. Protect uncontacted tribes’ land now.

Water is a Human Right

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Thu, 02 Oct 2014 18:36:00 +0000

Activists in Detroit vow to defy an unjust legal system.

GMO Conference

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Thu, 02 Oct 2014 18:25:00 +0000

The 3rd global Seeds of Doubt Conference is coming up. Click here for more information about GMOs and to register for this event.

I'm Back and an Ode to Howard Zinn

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 05:12:00 +0000

Well, who am I kidding, the last time I wrote an Ode, it was still acceptable to turn in handwritten English papers. But I really am back -- I've gone around and around about whether or not I could, should, want to (and so on to infinity) continue blogging. I tried to figure out why I couldn't get it together and maintain this blog -- is it my 7-day-work-weeks-while-raising-a-young-family for the past year or the fact that I'm starting graduate school in 6 weeks (could I be any dumber?) or is it something else entirely?

And it turns out, it's something else entirely. It's primarily because after all this time away and so many readers lost, it's like I'm talking to myself here.

Wait. I feel a Zen koan coming on....

No, I kid. I'm not that deep. It's just that talking to myself in public makes me feel a little bit crazy, that's all.

So for an anti-climactic first post back what I really want to say is I sadly moved JD Salinger to my list of dead people with whom I'd most like to lunch. And as brilliant as he was, where are the other writers out there who would like to punch him for having told everyone he was going to write the great American novel before he did it? Not that I'm bitter, I'm just saying. Who does that and then actually does that?

Apropos of nothing (or maybe because the title of this post promises something I can't deliver) my favorite ode of all time is Pablo Neruda's Ode to Tomatoes. And my favorite Historian is Howard Zinn. He didn't do anything of great social import the way, say, Michael Jackson or Octomom did -- so there's no media frenzy surrounding his passing. But the NYT did run a nice OpEd on him here. And I'll leave you with a quote that sums up his life work - from his memoir:

The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

Finally, if you're a Facebook user, my coffee shop has just made its debut and is desperately seeking fans.

Facebook

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 17:34:00 +0000

Every few days I get an invitation to be someone's friend on Facebook -- if you are one of the people I've snubbed because I didn't want to spend the 8 seconds required to set up an account, please forgive me.

I would have continued to pretend like Facebook doesn't exist, but then I had a "that is so 21st century" moment. An acquaintance was due to have a baby and I was waiting and waiting to hear the baby had arrived. Finally, the baby is 8 weeks old and I meet her at a party. I said, "Why the hell did no one tell me you had the baby?!"

And everyone at the table shook their head in agreement when the new mother shrugged and said, "You need to be on Facebook."

And then my dearest friend, who used to send me long, fabulous, hilarious e-mails daily, apologized that I haven't heard from her for so long saying, "Well, if you were on Facebook..."

Alas, here I am! And I'm the only one without 439 friends, so please come and be my Facebook friend.

Don't Blame Me, I'm Just Their Mother

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 19:06:00 +0000

When I saw this article on PETA's recent controversial campaign, I immediately thought of three things. First, I’ve met more than several chunky vegans. Second, my mother and I recently had a conversation wherein she explained to me that the reason she can’t lose weight is because she’s not willing to give up carbohydrates for the rest of her life. And when I asked why she has to give up carbohydrates, why she can’t just eat less in general, she looked at me as if I’d lost my mind and said she’s not sure.

Third I thought about how little I seem to be able to influence my children’s dietary preferences. The older my kids get the more I think parents are not to blame/thank for how kids turn out. I mean I know if you lock them in the shed for twenty years they probably won’t turn out too normal – of course. But beyond the basics, I’m certain that both of my children arrived here who they are and nothing (but nothing!) that I have done since can change that.

Recently Little One had to choose a meal he wanted to eat from some pictures in a workbook. The first meal was PB&J, a string cheese and some juice. “That’s just gross,” he said. “Jelly is gross, cheese is gross… I choose a salad, a chicken leg and a glass of milk.”

What self-respecting 6-year-old talks like this? And if you’re wondering if his propensity to follow the South Beach Diet is what has made him my Little One – well, we think so, but the doctor insists it’s genetics (we don’t know whose genetics, since his father is very tall and his mother is built like a linebacker, but anyway, who are we to argue with the doctor).

And the chicken leg thing? His dad and I can’t even watch him eat chicken. We use a fork and pull the meat off, remove the fat, gristle, skin, etcetera. He picks up the whole leg, like a medieval king, and eats it with his teeth until there’s just a clean, smooth bone left. Then again, he does his Midwestern-of-German-descent relatives proud – maybe these things skip a generation.

Lest you think I’ve had anything to do with it, his brother wouldn’t eat that meal unless bribed with seconds of mashed potatoes & gravy and ice cream for dessert.

They have heard a lot about nutrition during their short lives. “They’re not bodybuilders – they’re toddlers,” I had to argue with their athletic father on more than several occasions. “They need carbohydrates for proper brain and muscle development.”

And while it's true that J likes to eat more similar to me and Little One, their dad – neither of them really choose to eat like we’ve taught them. I was alone with them and suggested we go out for pizza. J was all over it. Little One screeched, “I haaaate pizza! Just take me home so Daddy can cook me some meat.”

But even better than meat, for Little One, is fruit. When J was a year old, I was reading Dr. Sears’ advice for feeding toddlers and my husband scoffed, “Why does he have to eat so much fruit? I can’t even eat that much fruit – and I outweigh him by 200 pounds!” Today J eats plenty of fruit… you know, when he has to in order to get seconds of mac & cheese or dessert.

Their dad and I do agree on many nutrition principles and are both disgusted with what passes for “lunch” at our kids’ school. When J started first grade, he would tell me things like he had a corn dog and apple juice for lunch. Then I learned that there’s an optional salad/fruit bar (whose idiotic idea was it to make that optional?). So I told him that from now on I expect him to choose something from there, anything he likes, an apple, some carrots, whatever. Just something.

The next day I asked what he chose from the salad bar and he said, “Pudding.”

Dessert is at the salad bar too – of course! How could I not have known? So that backfired, as good-parenting attempts often do.

Little One starts first grade tomorrow and I’m going to have to forbid him from going to the salad bar or he won’t eat anything for lunch that has calories. The other day he was riding in the cart at the grocery store and he begged for clementines, then grapes, then blueberries… Finally he screamed, “Oh watermelon! Can we pleeeeeease get some watermelon!”

I listed all the fruits we had in the cart and already at home and said, “We don’t need any watermelon.”

And as I was squeezing the avocadoes he looked at the pasta, rice, beer, butter, cheese and crackers in the cart and said to no one in particular, “Well – we don’t need ANY of this shit.”

So maybe parents have a teensy bit of influence – I am sure I have no control over his dietary preferences, but I admit that I might know where he gets that mouth.

Natural Great Perfection

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 23:07:00 +0000

My review of the book, Natural Great Perfection: Dzogchen Teachings and Vajra Songs by Nyoshul Khenpo & Lama Surya Das is now posted on Feminist Review. You can read it here.

There are some things this book reminds me of that don't fit in the review, like a bumper sticker I saw the other day that said, "Honk if you don't exist." (Which further reminds me of the brilliant Monty Python skit where Nietzsche was thrown out of a soccer game for telling the umpire that he didn't exist...)

But the most fun aspect of reading this book has been the juxtaposition of it with an experience I've been having at work. I've always believed that sanity is somewhat cultural and subjective, or that, at the very least, it exists on a continuum -- that everybody is a little bit nutty in some way or another. Or as a friend of mine always says, "everyone's normal until you get to know them." But lately I've really been contemplating the fine line between a little out there and like really far gone.

So I have this customer and the first time I talked to him he told me that he knew he needed to get himself "right" because the trees wouldn't talk to him.

Now, most likely, you exist somewhere on the normal/crazy continuum that makes you think, "Wow, that dude is totally nuts."

But not me -- I totally get that, from where I sit on the spectrum. So we had a nice little conversation about talking to trees, the universe and such - he thanked me for understanding and then paid me the highest compliment I've received to date -- he said I'm the Buddha-Master. (Which I'm not, but still... it's a very kind thing for someone to say about you and I appreciate it.)

Time passed... our connection grew... but then it happened. He said that he'd let his robot guard down for thirty seconds and the robots got him. And I suddenly realized that I'm not talking to a crazy person like me, I'm talking to a person who struggles to grasp reality. I mean talking trees - a literary theme as old as story-telling -- everybody knows that trees laugh, whisper, etcetera! As American as burning witches at the stake. But robots? That's just looney talk.

So I asked myself, what would the Buddha-Master do when talking to this person (who is me, of course, if I am in fact the Buddha-Master)?

Alas, my book, Natural Great Perfection, doesn't contain the answer -- or maybe it does: "When one realizes the natural state, the true nature of all beings, there is naturally a welling up of inconceivable spontaneous compassion, loving-kindness, consideration, and empathy, because one realizes there is no self separate from others. One then treats others just like oneself. There is no cause for aversion, attachment or exploitation."

A very fine answer, indeed - wish me luck applying it.

z

On Mommy Blogging

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 04:05:00 +0000

July is like the month of new beginnings to end all months of new beginnings for me. Both of my kids were born in July. We got our dog in July. And this blog was born in July -- four (!!!!) years ago. Many times I've thought I'd just scrap it, but then --- well, there are four years of musings, stories, rants and assorted nonsense collected here, and like any narcissist worth her (organic) salt, I'm kind of attached to them (even as they're simultaneously embarrassing to read). Even though I've lost more than half the readers I used to have, I continue to update this space every now and then (mostly when BlogHer tells me I have to, but I'm trying to do better than that).

So I'll be honest, since honesty is what we love best about mommy blogs --- I started this blog because I needed something to do, I wanted to improve my writing skills, and after being home alone with babies/toddlers/preschoolers for four years, I desperately needed some adult "voices." Plus, I thought there was a chance I might be a kind-of funny writer and maybe Woody Allen would discover me or something... (which hasn't happened, if you were wondering). But over time my situation changed (a few times) and the fact is, I don't find my life to be all that humorous anymore -- so I'm often short on things to write about. Though I did, for the first time this birthday, really struggle and feel sadness around my kids getting older and I do have more essays in me somewhere (I'm pretty sure).

I mean I still have comical moments, like the night J (now 8) and Little One (now 6 and as little as ever) explained to me why they don't believe in God or the devil (that devil thing is pure crazy talk evidently) but they do believe in Jesus. Or how J said his friend told him not to ask questions about the Buddha because it's bad luck (there's a kid after my own heart!). Or the day J announced out loud in the grocery store that I drink a lot of wine (to many people, though no one in particular), forcing me to decide, on the fly, if it's more pathetic to be seen by the general public as someone who drinks too much or someone who argues with her kid in the produce section about how much she doesn't drink. And then there's the day that Little One learned (while discussing chickens, of all things) that the difference between him and girls is a specific appendage (and lack thereof). Several hours later, he approached me at the dryer, narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously and in a semi-aggressive manner said, "Mama, show me that part of you where there would be a penis if you had one."

Bring them up right -- that's my motto.

But seriously, for the most part, my life today does not in any way resemble my life when I started this blog -- and I do think it's kind of cool that the evolution is documented and also that I have some great stories that I won't be able to forget. But what that means for the future, I'm just not sure. Rather than complain that my life is busy, I'm trying to be grateful that my life is abundant -- and when I have a little bit of time to enjoy my children, I haven't wanted to squander it creating stories about them, leaving myself doomed to only being able to appreciate life in retrospect.

Still, this is not a Dear John letter and I do appreciate so many of you who have stuck around through my blogging marathon stages as well as my private and public blog ambivalence syndrome. I'm still trying to figure out what I might do with this space going forward, but I suspect I'll be here in some capacity or another.

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 22:03:00 +0000

Just for Laughs

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 02:37:00 +0000

Yes We Can (laugh) courtesy of The Onion:

"Obama Revises Campaign Promise Of 'Change' To
'Relatively Minor Readjustments In Certain Favorable Policy
Areas' "

Read the whole (short) piece here.

z

In Retrospect, I Should Have Been a Buddhist Nun

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 03:16:00 +0000

My latest go-to stress-relieving fantasy is that I’m a Buddhist nun. Living quietly with everything I need. But then I remember that for a variety of reasons I wouldn’t make a very good Buddhist - or any flavor of nun for that matter. Like being a Buddhist and being a pacifist sort of goes hand-in-hand and I’m not a pacifist. You’re probably surprised to hear that the way I criticize war, but I’m only opposed to the aggressor in imperialistic wars (the most common aggressor in my lifetime having been my government). So I’m a warrior, therefore not a very good Buddhist nun.

However, the real reason I’ve been obsessed with becoming a nun is a more personal and complicated story and not the kind of thing I generally share on this blog, but I’ve run out of topics so here goes:

A couple of years ago, I remembered that I had forgotten to go to graduate school, right about the time I had the temporarily devastating realization that my life is half over and so if I have things I mean to do “someday,” someday has arrived. So I applied to a Master’s Program and was rejected. I felt entirely destroyed, like there was nothing else I ever possibly wanted to do but that. Then after a while I got over it (I’m good at that, if nothing else) and applied to two more programs last fall. (I also opened a coffee shop, which is really fun but isn’t making any money yet.) When I applied I thought that I probably wouldn’t get accepted to either one, since I’m obviously such a loser I couldn’t get into the first one I applied to, right? But my thinking was, I will have tried -- and then being a good religious girl (or bad religious girl, whichever) I would accept that God has spoken and it’s just not meant to be in this lifetime.

So now, after living frugally and simply for all of my adulthood, just like the vast majority of regular people who are now being blamed for the financial crisis we’re in as a nation, I’m routinely calculating how long we might get to keep living here if I stopped paying the mortgage, weighing if I’d benefit more from not paying my credit cards (used to open the coffee shop) or from maintaining perfect credit at any cost -- basically living an eighth of a nickel away from debtors prison and working as hard as I can to make money fast enough.

Then what happens? I’ve been accepted to both graduate programs. And I really want to do them both. Because if not now, then when?

What I need is a miracle – and as luck would have it, I believe in miracles. So I’m waiting – breathing in the fear, breathing out relaxation – comforted by my relentless faith in the abundance of the universe and that all things, good and bad, come to an end. Maybe I could have pulled off being a nun after all.

Making Marriage Work and Timeless Blog Wisdom

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Mon, 25 May 2009 00:16:00 +0000

Sometimes I feel sorry for celebrities who grow up famous, because I think about how awful it must be to be judged at 40 by the dumb things you did when you were 20. Blogging can be that way too – there is what you wrote, three years ago, on display for everyone to see, even though it may not in any way reflect the larger part of who you are – it is only a reflection of something you were processing at a specific moment in time. Like writing a letter on Sunday stating that you have the stomach flu, sending it thousands of miles away, only to be perfectly fine by the time the recipient reads it. I don’t have that experience very often, but last fall when I was thinking to myself, in light of this absurd debate about who can marry, why can’t we just get rid of marriage as a legal institution altogether, I started receiving a lot of blog traffic from people googling, “abolish marriage.”

So here is my blogging tip for the day – do not ever (EVER!) make an offhand remark about the mating habits of lions in a blog post, because you will get comment after comment from people telling you that not only do you hate gay people but you don’t think black people should be allowed to marry either.

Seriously.

Semi-related, my review of the book, Making Marriage Work, is up at Feminist Review. I really enjoyed reading it and it is inadvertently funny in some places – in ways I couldn’t put in the actual review, because I was pretending to be a smart, analytical reviewer, as opposed to my actual juvenile self. For instance, when outlining the historically perceived social importance for women to marry (not so important for men, of course) the author describes a case study of a woman who took a “Marriage Readiness Course” to address all of the issues that made her (sadly) unfit to marry and ends with this: “By the time that Marcia met and was courted by good, solid Dick, it was clear that she had invested sufficient time and energy in her program to become a successfully married woman.”

Or maybe I’m the only one who giggles at such a sentence. Ahem.

So about abolishing marriage for real – judging from my stats, comments and e-mails, if you’re reading this blog, odds are you’re probably married and a feminist (or you’re obsessed with Jim Bob Duggar and droopy tits, but I’m just going to ignore you people). So obviously pairing up with the opposite sex and making babies hasn’t gone out of style, but I like to think that marriage as a political institution has evolved. Still, it remains the safest way for a woman to keep herself and her children out of poverty, it’s discriminatory and just otherwise socially problematic on several levels. And when I ponder possible solutions to those problems, I just keep coming back to wondering why we need the state to define our families, alliances, romances, etcetera for us anyway.

Parenting, Politics & Oh Yeah, Happy Mother's Day!

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Mon, 11 May 2009 23:38:00 +0000

I don't know what kind of sad-excuse-for-a-mommy-blogger forgets to post on Mother's Day, so I hope fun was had by all. As for me, I received the best gifts ever -- all homemade, including my new favorite poem:

Mama,

Sunny, funny

Reading, Fixing, Working

She is a cat person.

I love you,

I'm not sure if it's supposed to be a haiku or what ever gave him the idea that I like cats, but it is my favorite poem forever, nonetheless - as a fellow writer, I particularly appreciate the experimental point-of-view. Not to mention, it's not every day (or any day for that matter) that someone calls me "sunny."

Just because he and his brother are my favorite kids doesn't mean I'm not going to subject them to this video -- and I highly recommend that all adults watch, even if you're not a fellow lunatic-who-relentlessly-harasses-her-spoiled-children-about-the-evils-of-consumerism. Don't feel sorry for them though, I'll make popcorn to eat while we watch.

Finally, a great piece about Madmen and what's wrong with Barack Obama. (Hint: It's not personal, it's just that he's a well-connected, establishment politician -- who knew!!!!)

And finally once more, a link to one of my favorite organizations for whom every day is Mother's Day around the world.

Pax

The Fountain of Youth

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 05:05:00 +0000

On my birthday when I was gloomily contemplating my frumpy, old haggedness, a delivery came for my husband while he was at work. I said to the delivery guy, “Can you just put it on the porch out of the rain and then he can put it where he wants when he comes home?"

The guy said, “Umm, it weighs like two-hundred pounds, I don’t think I can get it up on the porch by myself." Then he eye-balled me for a second and said, “Well, you could probably help me, you look pretty strong.”

Later I told my husband so he could beat the guy up or something, but he doubled over with laughter, “Why didn’t you beat him up yourself, you’re pretty strong…”
(I am rather hefty, but really, you can keep your observations about that to yourself if you don’t mind.)
Then I then went upstairs and overheard J and Little One saying, “I love you better than poop.” “Well I love you better than chickens.” “I love you better than underwear on your head.” And just as I began to fantasize about flying to Madagascar. All by myself. Forever. Little One said wistfully, “Well – I love Mama the best of everything.”
So with Madagascar out of the running I thought maybe I’d just get a new hairdo. I said to my hair stylist, “Maybe I’ll go with strawberry highlights once instead of golden. Do you think I’d be a cute redhead?”
He kind of nodded and grunted.
Or how about one of those short in back, longer in front bobs ala Victoria Beckham - did he think I could pull that off.
Sort of a nod and shrug.
Then I said I really love pixies and every time I see a girl with a pixie I think oh my god is she the cutest thing ever, I wish I had hair like that. “But,” I said, “I think only girls who are skinny can wear that look well.”
He chuckled, “You’re skinny.”
“So you think I would look cute with a pixie?” I perked up.
Long uncomfortable silence.
In the end I just took a tip from my young baristas and bought a pair of Reeboks – I was skeptical… until I got carded buying a bottle of wine. Now I believe! So to my fellow mid-lifers, who are dedicated, in principle, to growing old gracefully, but simply aren’t “feeling it” – there is hope. Step away from the bovine toxin. Resist the urge to run away from home. Try some hip, comfortable shoes.
z

Appalling Anonymous Commentors

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Thu, 16 Apr 2009 04:00:00 +0000

Lately I feel like a pinball -- I work on whatever it is I'm working on until I get a letter, an e-mail or a heart palpitation telling me I'd better hurry up and work on something else. In other words, I've got way more to worry about lately than I can deal with (but this nice bottle of Italian Red, block of Gruyere and box of Rosemary crackers are helping quite a bit - at least for now).

First Cynthia Samuels clued me in that CNN is asking for input about the state of our kids' schools -- I understand the hope is that the Obama administration is going to fix education (like all the administrations before him). Oh stop, I sound crabby - it's been a long day. Seriously, if I had time and knew how to make videos, I would love to be part of this important conversation, so check it out and participate if you can!

Then I was not-so-gently reminded that I'd forgotten to blog and as I wondered what exactly I was going to write about (I don't suppose you're interested in city sign permit fees or how many sinks a coffee shop needs in order to be allowed to slice a lemon) -- like manna from heaven, I got this anonymous comment in my inbox:

I think it is appalling you give your child coffee.

Now, as many of you know, often blogging is about sharing the parts of ourselves that are most vulnerable -- putting our parenting insecurities out there for all to scrutinize and so on. And when you do that and you get a bitchy anonymous comment it can really hurt, because the comment is close to home and digs at something you do (or don't) that you already feel uneasy about. I suppose Anonymous was trying to do that to me (for God knows what reason random people enjoy making strangers feel badly about themselves, but anyway) -- but I just had to laugh because I thought -- APPALLING? Half a teaspoon of espresso in a glass of milk is an APPALLING drink for a kid - really?

And then I just wanted to ask Anonymous -- what adjective would you use if I'd given him bleach to drink? Toilet water? Dog piss? I mean, get a grip.

I was reminded of a girl I once knew who told me her biggest nightmare was the thought of having a spider land on her head. I'm not judging her -- lucky her, she was young and she'd had a very very nice life thus far. But really, some of us have (and have already lived) much bigger nightmares than that. So I guess I could be a compassionate Buddhist and be glad to know that Anonymous has had such a perfect life that it can't imagine anything worse than a pampered middle class American boy having a sip of espresso in his mother's coffee shop. The horror!

And then I wondered if Anonymous thinks it's appalling when children routinely drink soda pop-- which my kids hardly even know exists (while we're on the subject, most of my family members are kind of appalled that I don't ever let my kids drink soda pop). How about caffeine-laden Easter chocolate -- should I confess that my kids had Easter candy too or will that necessitate a call to CPS?

Some day my childen will be adults and they will tell me all the appalling things I did to them as their loving, devoted and imperfect mother -- and I promise to listen and to take it like a womyn. In the meantime, a word to those who try to be hurtful, but don't have the balls to even say who they are -- it will work better if you find a parenting issue about which I lack confidence, my kids' ultra healthy abundant diet just isn't one of them. But on behalf of mothers who do waste time fretting about that, find a less appalling passtime.

Last but not least, did you know that I almost share a birthday with Gloria Steinem? I do! One day off - do you think that makes me special? Probably not -- maybe I'll criticize my mother for giving birth to me a day too late. Here's to Gloria and to all who commit outrageous acts!

A (More or Less) Mommy Wars Reading List

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 22:44:00 +0000

Just for fun, I want to make sure no one misses Katha Pollitt’s recent piece on Michelle Obama. I have to admit I’ve developed quite a crush on the first lady, partly due to David Brooks’ fear that she could bench press him (likely one-handed even), but frankly she had me at telling a young girl, who aspired to be a first lady one day, “it doesn’t pay very well.” Pollitt highlights even so much more to love.

Then I’m sure everyone has read the Atlantic breast-isn’t-really-best-fest, which was well done even though I had mixed feelings about it, followed up by Debra Dickerson’s inane right-on (right on the heels of dismissing the youngest generation of feminists as poll dancing drunkards – what has gotten into her lately?). I didn’t write about it because I didn't have much to add except my own story and a snoring rendition of humans are mammals and their milk is designed perfectly to nourish their young – it’s a good thing – still, the vast majority of reasonably intelligent, healthy Americans alive today managed to grow on evaporated milk and corn syrup – wah wah wah wah.

So I decided I’d rather just let it be until I read this great take by Judith Warner - sensible, thoughtful, perchance inspiring, definitely worth reading. With that I’ll return to my regularly scheduled programming of worrying about my own boobs and leaving the sisterhood alone to worry about their own, free from my judgment, (no doubt) wisdom and helpful hints.

Last but not least I would like to vent… no! Talk. I would like to talk about this most vile internet phenomenon which I will call the children-haters. Before I get myself into trouble, let me say that I know many people in real life who are child free by choice or by circumstance and none of them are repugnant children-haters. I don’t know where the internet finds these people. But you might have read in the comments from my last post that someone is horrified to see that I basically told a Mother Jones columnist to “off herself.” Which I kinda did, along with about a hundred other people – but don’t feel sorry for her! She’s smart enough to know that the surest way to inspire people to suggest you go fuck yourself is to refer to their children as nothing more important than carbon-emitting “monsters.” Certainly she was inflammatory on purpose. I gave her just what she was hoping for – an angry reaction and a link.

The post drew a lot of crazy parents who claim their children will cure cancer and end global warming, and a lot of crazy non-parents who feel the goal of civilization should be to end civilization, but there was one sane comment that’s worth repeating (trust me you won’t want to read through all of the nonsense to find it). The suggestion is that the U.S. might adopt a policy whereby tax breaks are only given for up to two children. The theory being an acknowledgement that people need public support to do a good job of raising their kids; yet everyone having more than two children, particularly in a wealthy (or really I should say, grossly wasteful) country like the U.S., is not sustainable and should be discouraged (or at least not publicly subsidized). It’s an interesting idea, but when I envision it in practice it seems it could be elitist – inadvertently punishing poor people for having the audacity to reproduce, which we already do enough in this country.

On the other hand, it's mind boggling the degree to which people feel disgruntled about the child "tax write off" factor. I mean all year long I educate, feed, house, clothe my kids, not to mention I purchase a boatload of useless junk for them to play with and destroy. At tax time, apparently I'm supposed to feel like I'm really cashing in on these guys -- you'd think it would make me want to have another, all the money I'm making. Well I don't know about you, but my reaction is more along the lines of whoop-de-doo. If we actually had policies in the U.S. that helped mothers, financially speaking, well then I suppose someone could complain, but trust me, for the most part, we're on our own out here. Some even complain about having to pay taxes for public schools. If you can't comprehend why educating children benefits the entire population, then you're a good example of how our under-funded schools fail.

So wait, I promised we were just going to talk and I accidentally vented there at the end. Sorry about that, but really I wanted to explain to anyone who might read that previous comment that I'm not in the habit of telling people to just die already and get it over with - I was only trying to help her embrace the mantra "let change begin with me." I meant well -- mostly.

My 7-Year-Old Coffee Snob

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 03:19:00 +0000

The other day my kids were at work with me and J asked if I would make him an espresso. An Americano (espresso and water) had just been made by accident, and I was drinking it even though it's not my favorite drink. (WHY does it feel less wasteful to eat something you dont want than to just throw it away?) So I took a tiny bit of the Americano, poured a bunch of milk into it and gave it to J.

It will be another thing he'll be using to impress the other adults in his life. One of his teachers told me that J is very sophisticated because he eats sushi and Thai food and frog legs and escargot... and anything really. Actually he's never had escargot, but that's his mother's fault. He really wants to, but French food is expensive and eating snails grosses me out, so I haven't exactly been all over helping him out with that.

As for the adults who tell me how cultured he is --I always have to just nod and smile, because what I'm really thinking is, at home he doesn't talk about any of that even half as much as he talks about butts and farting and assorted bodily fluids/functions -- he doesn't generally seem all that mature or fancypants around here. I'm hoping maybe with time...

Also, unfortunately his "sophisticated" palate doesn't extend to health food. He's currently being screened for a suspected food allergy, so he said, "You know I just thought of something I eat a lot of that's probably making me sick -- salad and vegetables."

Nice try, we told him. A for effort, C for creativity, F minus for subtlety.

(The current suspect is pineapple by the way, and I really hope that's the ticket, given the ease with which one can avoid it.)

After J discovered the Americano my husband was home with him for the day and when I got home he said, "I offered J a hot chocolate this morning, but he told me that all he drinks now is an Americano - where the hell did that come from?"

Hey, I told him, when you're hip you're hip, who can help it.

On a more serious note, if I had the energy to go on and on or analyze or even just think for a minute - I would write about this, but I don't - so I'll just leave you with a link to this thought-provoking piece from NYT. Additionally, the author of said piece has done a lot of fascinating work collected here.

Because I Don't Know What Else to Say...

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sun, 15 Mar 2009 23:17:00 +0000

I'm a little behind on blogging thanks to the opening of my new coffee shop! Oh and not only that, but both of my kids got the stomach flu opening week (hello guilt), I was accepted to a graduate school program and I received two books in the mail that I'd kinda sorta forgotten I'd agreed to review. Hence the bags under my eyes and the abundance of leftover takeout in the fridge. But my little one and the dog are cute, right? And soon you will be able to read my review of two fascinating books - Making Marriage Work: A History of Marriage and Divorce in the Twentieth-Century United States and Natural Great Perfection (a book on Buddhism, the wisdom of which is the only thing that is helping me stay reasonably sane).

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So wish me luck and if you're in the Portland area please come have a cup of coffee with me.

Can Barack Obama Save the World?

noreply@blogger.com (Staci) — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 18:30:00 +0000

I had to giggle the other day when I read this article about JFK/Obama. Not because I think Obama is a liar, but it just reminded me of something for which I've always enjoyed making fun of my parents and their generation -- and what's not to love about making fun of one's parents?

(If you're a baby boomer, please know I wish you no offense.)

What is amusing to me is that if you ask a baby boomer who was the best president ever, they will invariably say JFK. If you ask why, they generally answer with one of three reasons:

a) He was young. b) He had a wife who dressed cute. Or c) I know where I was the day he was shot.

Now I'm not suggesting JFK was an awful president - he did sign the Civil Rights Act and he invented the Peace Corps (which was of dubious benefit to the developing world according to most historians, but can be filed under "heart was in the right place" so I won't hold it against him). But he also vastly escalated the Vietnam War and created the first U.S. budget deficit. To say nothing of waving his you-know-what at Cuba - if you're going to be a bully, you should at least win the battle for heaven sake.

But enough about JFK, it's Obama that I really wanted to talk about. Now that everyone's love affair with Obama has come to an end (all the radical lefty people I read are just stunned because he didn't CHANGE anything in Washington, golly gee who knew) I feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for him because basically his whole presidency is a crap shoot. Economies are cyclical, if ours happens to come around in the next few years, he'll go down as the greatest president ever, whether he deserves that distinction or not. On the other hand, if it takes 5 or 8 years, he'll have been the lamest most ineffective president ever -- whether he deserves that distinction or not.

I wish I could say I have high hopes. Don't get me wrong, I am rooting for him -- I'm starting a new business in this tanking economy and I own a house that isn't worth what I paid for it just like everyone else. But here's why I worry. There has been a lot of comparison to FDR booming about. And FDR was a pretty good dude, but the fact is, his New Deal did not rescue America from the Great Depression. It did provide hurting people with some relief and I'm not saying it was a bad thing. But it was U.S. involvement in World War 2 that turned our economy around. Governments spending more money than they have to help people out might save the day, but I'm not very optimistic. What's worse is we've already been bombing everybody and their sister for the past eight years, so we don't even have "go to war" in our economy rescue toolkit.

So I didn't mean for this post to be such a big downer... I just wanted to raz the JFK zombies. I am hopeful. A little bit. But I will tell you that more than 600 people applied for a minimum wage job at my new coffee shop -- some of them unemployed engineers, executive assistants and even an attorney. On the other hand there was the person who wrote in her cover letter: "I have great work history and many different work ethics also. In my past employment I have won some top employee awards with most of my employment history. I'm a quick learner also catch on quick."

Times are hard - here's hoping I'm just a crabby old cynic who doesn't know what she's talking about.