Nytvisions

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Mon, 14 Feb 2011 16:06:00 +0000

The One About Him

I met him on the Internet. At a time when NO ONE met people on the internet. We found ourselves in one of those topic driven chat rooms that were popular back in the day. He was the "police" and I was the one who had a smart mouth and some pretty quick typing skills. Instant messages were exchanged. It was inevitable.

We struck up one of those on-line friendships. Our lives at the time were tumultuous. Mine by choice, his.... not so much. We corresponded for months via e-mail, and then graduated to phone calls. There didn't seem to be anything that we couldn't talk about. We had completely different life experiences and viewpoints, but it seemed as though every conversation involved someone learning something they didn't know before.

On paper, we were nothing but a losing bet, total opposites. When he showed up in town nine months later, I'm not sure either of us thought that we would be anything more than friends. Two weeks later, he moved in with me, and we've been together ever since. It's been close to twelve years...

I believe that actions speak louder than words. We have weathered storms together, taken adventures, celebrated, grieved and "lived" every moment together. It's been my honor to stand with him and my gift to have him stand with me. For close to twelve years we have made a conscious choice to show up for one another, and that alone is a gift beyond measure.

Happy Valentine's Day Mr. Man...

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 16:32:00 +0000

The One About Inciting a Panic

We are sitting here patiently waiting for the snow to begin. The wind has picked up, the sky is gray, and temperature is dropping. It's on it's way, it will be a rough day or so.

We're ready. There's enough food in the fridge, firewood in the house and gas in the snow blower. The vehicles have enough gas should we need them. We've seen the plow trucks dropping salt ahead of the storm that's coming.

I was raised here. I've spent many winters waiting for the storms. Many winters with sub-freezing temperatures and I'm not alone.

The local news, and even the national news creates an absolute furor with their reporting of the impending storm. People dash around, laying in supplies like they will never see the inside of a grocery store again. Creating a whole different set of problems besides some snow. I hate it.

My conversation with Himself this morning covered the necessary stuff. He'll be in a hotel tonight, close to his job (his is a 24/7 kind of thing). I'll be here, working the snow-blower. There is enough food in the house for a week, firewood for at least that long and at least 3 days worth of water. There's fuel for the generator and enough blankets and comforters for a platoon. The only reasons we'd have to bug-out is roof collapse or water main break (and even the water main thing could wait for several days). All in all, it's not that big of an emergency.

You wouldn't know it to listen to the news though. The local and national talking heads are making it sound like the end of the world is arriving any minute. It's not folks.... it's just a little snow...

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Mon, 31 Jan 2011 18:55:00 +0000

The One About Mind Control and the Mouse

Well, finally I feel a little bit better. Whatever this season's virus is, it's butt-kicking and evil. I was sick during the holidaze, felt better for our trip, and then came home to gooey, multi-colored, feverish, hacking "ick" that landed me in the doctor's office begging for anything that might make it stop. One Z-pak, some narcotic cough syrup, and an anti-mold pill later and I'm almost back to normal. We shall not discuss my right ear which has not yet cleared from the flight on the 22nd. (I am completely convinced that Edgar Allen Poe was NOT driven mad by Absinthe, he merely had a plugged ear) I've been hearing my heartbeat and my jaw click, and my eyes blinking for close to ten days now....it certainly can drive someone very close to the edge...

But, enough about me...let's talk vacation. Let's talk The Mouse...

We set off for warmer destinations on Disney's Magic. Despite my initial trepidation, I have to say that we truly enjoyed ourselves. The destinations were awesome (although St. Marten is looking a little worse for wear) and the Eggroll truly had a blast.

Disney does a lot of things right with these cruises. There's plenty for everyone to do. As a family we enjoyed all 3 stage shows, "Tangled" in 3D, character appearances, and dinners together every night. The Eggroll loved the idea of the "Oceaneer's Club" along with Mickey's pool and Himself and I availed ourselves of the wine list. I defy anyone to find a better way to watch the Bears play in the middle of January

There were a few things that got to me after a few days. The Mouse, he is everywhere. The curtains, the blankets, the rugs, the floors. The Mouse decides what you watch on TV (8 out of 12 channel offerings were Disney. We had a tough time getting the score for the Green Bay game). Your food may or may not be in the silhouette of the mouse. It's a bit unnerving after a while. Then there are the people. They are lovely...in a Stepford Mouse sort of way. I believe in greeting people, if you ask me how I am, I will give you a reply and then I will ask you the same. No matter who I asked or when, the answer was always "Magical". I know we stay in character for the kids, but I've got to say, after a few days?? Totally creepy.

Then there were the lines. Good God, you must line up for absolutely everything! I actually got in line the day we were leaving, just because I had gotten so used to it. I didn't need to be there, I was actually free to continue down the hallway.

We had some wonderful happen as well. Our cabin attendant was awesome. I love folks who put in that little bit of extra thoughtfulness. We got the usual turndown in the evening and the hilariously funny towel animals, and then one night, the Eggroll got a surprise. We had been to the aquarium on the island and I had gotten a stuffed stingray for her. (to go with her octopus of course) We stored her stuffed animals in the cabinet with the blankets and when we came in that evening, she was all smiles to discover that the "elves" had left her a giant stingray to match the small one.

Such a thoughtful thing to do...

The other bit of wonderful was the way my illness was handled. I have celiac, and while I don't make a big deal out of it, it was lovely to have my meals specially handled without me having to do a thing. Normally I dance around the menu, picking and choosing the things that are a safe bet for me. Evenings rolled around and our server merely told me what he had ordered for me. I had veto power, but I only exercised that once. So nice not to be responsible for myself if only for a little while.

The only complaint that I truly had was that none of the literature made mention of the fact that most of the outlets in the cabin are European. This caused a bit of a kerfluffle when Himself's CPAP machine couldn't be plugged in bedside. We were forced to run an extension cord across the room to another outlet. Not tragic, but certainly not the safest thing if you have a child who gets up in the middle of the night. I didn't think too much about it, but I did write about it on the survey thingie they give you on the last night. Color me surprised when I received a call from Disney several days after I got home. They offered their apologies and then asked me for suggestions. Seriously, just put it in the literature. Most of us who travel have our own converters...

Would I do it again? For a destination, yes. We've already discussed doing the Alaska thing with them just because the weather can be so iffy in Alaska. We'd love for the Eggroll to see Alaska, but we're not so foolish as to think that sitting on the balcony watching otters and whales is going to be enough for her. When it comes to kids, Disney does it right...

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Tue, 25 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About Being A Guest

Just a quickie list because I'm swamped. And sick! With my second bout of virus from hell. I'm actually so sick I'm seriously considering calling the doctor. If you know me....that's a really big deal. Anyway, we spent the last week basking in the Carribean sun on the Mouse Boat. It's been a while since I've traveled with a "group" of people, and I'd like to offer a few suggestions for those who....well... don't get out much.

1) Vacation is not synonymous with anarchy. Really, look it up. Check yourself....

2) The people who work on these boats are real people. Treat them accordingly. Please and Thank you will go a long, long way.

3) Other guests on these trips would sincerely appreciate you treating them as real people as well. Say "Excuse me" "please" and "thank you". Teach your children and spouse to do the same.

4) Do not throw yourself bodily in front of anyone or anything other than a bullet...

I have more, but I'm off to hack up a lung..... Bringing sexay back aren't I??

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Fri, 14 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About What Happens When I Try To Fix Stuff

I'm one of those people who "fixes" stuff. If I think you're hurt, if I think you're in pain, it turns into my life's mission to fix it. Add that to the fact that I'm a Daddy's girl and it almost explains this:

This is the Sentinel. 27 pounds of Brittany that not only thinks she's a Rottweiler, but has to be maintained on anti-anxiety meds. I got her for my dad after his 13 year-old female passed away. The Sentinel is a beautiful dog, very sweet, very loving and very, very crazy. Since my Dad still has a 13 year old male, it's a very bad match. The breeder said I could bring her back, the Eggroll says that she's her favorite, and Himself and I.... well, we're weak. Oh yeah, and then there's my dad, who didn't get the dog...

I need to let people fix their own stuff...

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About Feeling Warm

Because sometimes you need to be reminded...

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About the Parenting Thing

Just because I'm difficult that way, I'm going to keep the whole Amy Chua, Tiger Moms thing going for one more day. To tell the whole truth, I actually do my writing the day before posting, so this topic is pretty fresh while I'm writing it, it may be redundant to you..

If you haven't already read the WSJ piece, you can read it here:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111504576059713528698754.html

Go ahead, I'll wait....

There have been a number of pieces written about this. Google the topic and you should receive a plethora of opinions. Some grounded in fact, some in emotion. Almost all of them disagree with the idea that the Chinese or Asian style of parenting is somehow superior to western style. I'm not sure that I agree.

Many will cite the high rate of suicide among Asian Americans (women in particular). While it's certainly not something to ignore, it is quite possible that there are other factors that contribute to that number besides the pressure to excel and conform. WHO statistics still put the US rate of suicide considerably higher than any Asian country and I would think that the pressure to excel and conform is much higher in home countries where an entire family's very survival may depend on the earning capabilities of their children.

The next thing that comes to my mind are the western "uber" moms along with their partners, the "sports" dads. Aren't they, in essence. doing the same thing? The articles on over scheduling and ten-year pre-school waiting lists, not to mention the numerous incidents of sports related fights and worse among PARENTS would indicate that these parents are viewing sports and education as anything but pressure free... I suppose that they might say that they're creating a "well-rounded" child, but are they??

The next thing that seems to bring about great furor is the name calling thing. This subject is the one that seems to get under people's skin the most. As parents, there are those moments, there are those days, when "my beloved child" is just not the correct description. Heck, we call our daughter TLC (the littlest communist) as a joke, but there are days when it fits her to a tee. I have looked at my child and told her to stop being a "brat". Does anyone out there really think that a four year old kid can differentiate between the verbs "being" and "acting"??? Have I damaged her already?? Puhleeze! If my, or any other child for that matter, is somehow "damaged" by the occasional rantings of a frustrated parent, they've got bigger problems than whatever name they're being called.

My favorite thought on this whole discussion is the education part. Asian children consistently outperform their western counterparts across the board in education. There's a dirty little rumor out there that many universities were, for a time, limiting enrollment of Asian students. Why? Because the Asian students were skewing the curve, making the US students and the schools they attended look less competent, thus, less attractive to alumni and prospective students alike. Unless someone can point me to a genetic difference in Asian students, I almost have to believe that there are distinct cultural and societal differences throughout an Asian childhood. That leaves the door wide open to debate the difference between Asian and Western philosophy in parenting, both at the nuclear and extended level.

Certainly no one has to agree entirely with Ms.Chua's thesis. But one would be a fool not to consider it....

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About Defective and the Rhetoric

This past weekend in Tuscon Arizona, a young man made a somewhat conscious decision to shoot a congresswoman, kill a young child, a federal judge, a few other folks and wound over a dozen more. I have no words for the act, just prayers for the families and those who were hurt or killed.

Himself and I watched and listened with interest in the next few days, and I think we were both disheartened by what we heard and saw.

***********************************************************

I have known my vets since they we were all in high school. We have a friendship as well as a business relationship. They have cried with me, debated with me, and worked with me over more than twenty years. I have never known them to be anything other than thoughtful, compassionate and responsible. So it came as a great surprise to me when I brought the Sentinel and I encountered what I did.

As I was leashing up the Sentinel, a gentleman in a truck next to me took out his Pitbull. The animal was beautiful. Huge head, muscular but proportionate body and that strut... they headed into the office. I chose to wait a few moments, because the 27 pound Sentinel believes that she is a 160 pound Rottweiler. She was in heat at the time and I had noticed that the Pit wasn't neutered. Discretion is the better part of valor and all. A few minutes in the waiting room and I could hear the low, throaty growl of the Pit in the exam room. Then the vet tech came out. And there was more growling. I ushered the Sentinel into another exam room while the receptionist closed the door and windows to her office.

I heard my vet, my friend, tell the dogs owner, "This dog needs to be destroyed." "He is a liability." "He is dangerous and shouldn't be around people." "This animal is defective." The owner was none to happy and as he strode out of the office, my friend ended with "For God's sake keep that dog away from children!" Needless to say, I was appalled.

When we stopped talking about the Sentinel, I made mention of the fact that I was shocked by his reaction to that animal. I'm a bleeding heart when it comes to animals (and kids, and old people) and I just couldn't wrap my head around what had happened. "Sometimes, no matter what you do or how you feel, things are just defective" he told me. "As much as I want it to be different, I can't change it and I can't, in good conscience, pretend that it doesn't exist." I spent days thinking about what he said.

************************************************************

After the shooting in Tuscon, the television, radio and internet were abuzz with a singular theory. That somehow, someway, political rhetoric and the divisiveness of the current political climate caused this young man to do the things he did.

First the blame was laid at the feet of the Tea Party. Then the "right-wingers", then came the right as a whole, and we mustn't forget Sarah Palin... What was missing was the idea that this man was responsible for his own actions. Not that, the rhetoric made him do it. What was missing was the idea that this young man might just be "defective".

As of this writing, it has come to light that this young man had a very troubled past. That he was refused by the military, dropped out of school, removed from community college, and a whole litany of other things that in hindsight, were warning signs to the nth degree. He is, by all reasonable criteria, "defective". But that's not what people are going to remember. That's not what's going to be printed on the front page of every newspaper, that's not going to be what fuels discussion in the next few weeks...

But maybe it should be.....

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Mon, 10 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About Changing History

I'm always curious as to why folks try so hard to change history. The first time I remember being incensed by it is back the the 80's when Turner obtained the Hanna-Barbera catalogs and began systematically re-coloring, re-voicing, or shelving altogether, episodes of Tom and Jerry that may have contained characters that were less than "politically correct". Mammy Two Shoes was given a new voice, the cannibals were set on the shelf and scenes with characters in black face were edited out all together. I'm a bit of a cartoon buff, although Hanna-Barbera was never my thing, I was (and still am) more than annoyed that the "art" of a generation (or two, or three) was altered in the name of "political correctness".

These so called "offensive" cartoons were drawn in the 1940's, 50's, and 60's and that language, those depictions were part of the time and the culture. It doesn't make them "right" in doesn't make them less offensive to some, but they are a record of the history of the time. Removing the images and/or altering the language is not going to magically make that history disappear.

The same thing is going on again, this time with Mark Twain's "Huckleberry Finn" This time the idea is to remove the N-word (who am I kidding? the word is "nigger") from the text and replace it with the word "slave". Sadly, these words are not synonyms.

"The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter. It is the difference between the lightening bug and the lightening." - Mark Twain

Huckleberry Finn is not just a work of fiction, it is in many senses a historical record. It may not reflect that past in the best light, none the less, it is a reflection.

I was surprised when I started buying books for the Eggroll. Many of the childhood stories I remember have been altered to be "gentler" or more politically correct. The first one that comes to mind is Little Red Riding Hood. Did you know that the woodsman lets the wolf escape? Yeah, me neither.

I wonder how it is our children are to learn from the past if we continue to change it. We tell them, and ourselves for that matter, that the past is something to be valued, and something to be learned from. And yet, we allow the changes or in some cases make those changes ourselves. To what end?

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Fri, 07 Jan 2011 12:12:00 +0000

The One About Men Ruling the World

Of course it's a "national treasure"....

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Thu, 06 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About All Kinds of People

This gentleman and his "friend" seemed to be everywhere we were.

The only thing I could say? "It takes all kind of people to make a world"

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Wed, 05 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About The Education of Tiny Humans

So the Eggroll came home from pre-school the other day all puffy and proud of herself telling Himself and I that she learned a new word. She plunked herself down at the table, handed me a sheaf of papers, and proudly began spelling.

"B..E..F..O..R..E..!" she crowed triumphantly. "Before! See Mama, I learned a new word!"

"What do you think it means?" I asked.

"That there's a princess and a castle..."

"There's a princess and a castle? Is that what before means?"

And the whole thing spiraled down the rabbit hole. I should have gone through the sheaf of papers first. Had I done that, I might have discovered that the Pre-K teachers had decided that it would be a fabulous idea to teach the kids to read. And that they were kind enough to include some homemade flashcards and a lovely letter that explained why we, as parents, should be ever so grateful that they will be teaching our children to read by using "sight identification" or "Sight Words". I AM NOT GRATEFUL! NOT GRATEFUL AT ALL...

The premise of this silliness is that almost half of written material is made up of 100 of these 220 words. The Dolch Sight Word List. And that these words are best learned by sight, rather than phonetics. Many of these words are known as "exception" words, that is, words that don't adhere to basic phonics. The idea being that the child will be successful early on. The definition of success in this case is being able to identify the word on the flashcard.

We teach phonics in this house. I learned to read that way (and read by the age of three) and Himself learned to read that way (he also was reading before kindergarten). To be fair, as children we both tested out well above the "gifted" level at the time. He more than I. The first step, obviously, is sounding out words,and then "chunking" where certain letters that appear together often are sounded out (e-a, o-u, o-a). These two steps gives children the tools needed to be able to sound out any word. Not memorize a word based on a flashcard. Take that word out of context (flashcard) and studies have shown that 80% of children can't sound out or identify the word.

So needless to say, I have problems with this. First, I think it's teaching to lowest common denominator. Every child in the class gets a pat on the back since they can recite the words. Hell, half the kids probably don't even have to think, they can just harmonize with the rest of the class.

Second, I don't think it give children tools. Once kids have the correct tools, they can read/learn at whatever pace they choose. Phonics is a tool. It can be used on any word in the language, not just 220 that appear on a list.

Next is comprehension. What about the words on a page that aren't part of the magic 220? What then? Speaking of that, what about the success thing? Does the child then fail because they don't know or can't sound out a word that isn't on the list??

I want my child to have self-esteem. I think everyone does. But I want my child to gather her self-esteem from the actual learning, the actual act of doing something well, figuring out something herself, using her tools. Not from being able to recite a list of words along with everyone else.

I also must admit that this system has me thinking that the teachers truly are lazy. It must be tons easier to have a group of kids recite a list of words than it is to make sure each child is pronouncing each sound correctly. And I can't help but be sore about that one because I'm paying for this....

If there are any parents out there who would like to offer their opinion on the matter, I'd love to hear from you.

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 06:01:00 +0000

The One About The Women

The new year always brings about reflection and resolution. I don't care who you are, and whether or not you act on your resolutions, I'm pretty damn sure you at least THINK about the past year and reflect on what you'd like to change.

From my perusal of the internet as of late it seems that there's a whole lot of dis-satisfaction out there. And a whole lot of folks trying to leave their mark. That got me thinking about the women (because most of my reading is woman written) who've left their mark on me. Gifts if you will, lessons if you must. (And no, I don't think in any particular pattern...roll with it)

From the Divine Mrs.T
   She boldly went where no woman had gone before. Really. At a time when no woman would even consider doing it. She never viewed her accomplishments as such. Towards the end of her life, she was contacted by an author who was writing a book on women's suffrage and Mrs. T's role in it. She laughed out loud and told the author that the whole idea was foolish. She merely did what pleased her. She taught me that recognition won't fill your soul, the very act itself will. Be quiet, be humble, and just do.

The Very Capable Honeybee
   During the latter part of her marriage, her husband managed to bankrupt both his business and them personally, Miraculously, Honeybee returned from an outing to an undisclosed location with enough cash to sustain them. She taught me to always have my own money...

From The Ever Irrepressible Momma
    There were many. Too many to count. I remember standing in the funeral home after Momma died and the undertaker asked me if they were to attend to hair and make-up since the casket was to be closed ( that's a whole different story) and I think I looked shocked. I replied that Momma wouldn't go to the grocery store without hair and make-up she certainly wasn't going to God without... The lesson? Always be prepared.

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Mon, 03 Jan 2011 12:16:00 +0000

The One About Energy and Everyday

The Swooper and the Sentinel

I wasn't too surprised to find her airborne in this photo.

The surprise would have been finding a photo of them where she wasn't.

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Sun, 02 Jan 2011 12:17:00 +0000

The One About What Happens When The Men Talk

For the last year or so, I've been crabbing about space. My home is plenty large enough, but several of the rooms are just set up poorly. Specifically, I still have a formal living room and dining room. The dining room we use from time to time, but the living room? Not so much. My family room is long and narrow with doors and things in odd places. So I broke it into two areas only to discover that we only use one. And that no more than 4 people can be in that area at one time. Which means that someone always ended up sitting on the floor.

So I had an idea. I figured that if I made the living room into the family room then I could turn the family room into a kind of library-office thing that used all of the space instead of just half. I also figured that I could take my time, plan things out, sell off what I didn't need, choose my items carefully.....

Anyone see where this is going???

Oh I found some sofas and a couple of chairs. I decided to repurpose an existing secretary and a few tables. I found a more "family friendly" dining room set that I figured I could wait on...

And then Himself stopped by Flipper's. BY HIMSELF. And then my phone rang.

Himself: Honey, guess what? Flipper is giving us a big TV for Christmas!

Nyt: Sweetie, we already have a big TV. Did Flipper perhaps fall down and hit his head?

Himself: No honey... a BIGGER TV!

Nyt: Honey, hand the phone to Flipper. (he hands the phone to Flipper)

(to Flipper) HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND??

Flipper: Nope. Your changing around rooms anyway and you have more than enough wall space. Besides, Himself really wants it.

Nyt: I said I was thinking about it..

Flipper: But he wants it, and I'm getting it..

And 73 inches of high definition goodness was delivered to my home within the week.

Now I am grateful, I really am, but the reality of this is it's like giving someone a puppy. The puppy's awesome, all cute, and playful, and furry. But then the recipient has to get all the things that go with the puppy. And then there are the changes that have to be made because of the puppy. Puppy accessories and accommodations if you will. It's never ending.

Currently, I'm working on the whole custom blind thing. It unnerves me to see cars stop and BACK UP so that perfect strangers can enjoy our movie choices FROM THE STREET!!

I wonder what costs less. New blinds or one of those speaker thingies like they used to have at the drive-in...

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 19:04:00 +0000

The One Where I Sort of Triumphantly Return

What?!? No trumpets? No heraldic horns? Fine, be that way...

A new year has begun, and with that, I thought I'd settle in to do some of the things that I've resolved to do over the past few years. We shall not discuss failed resolutions. What I intend to do is just ACT, just do it and enjoy the ride.

The last few months have presented challenges, more than some folks, less than others, but by and large we've made it through. We're all a little bit older, a little bit wiser, and overall a little bit more than we were before.

I've slapped a new coat of paint on this lonesome old town (quick, name that tune!) and I'm getting ready to party. The photos are my own, including the header, which just tickles me because it's a detail of a grave outside of Paris. I do so love old cemeteries. And I'm a little bit pissed that someone thought of that before I did. Perhaps I can claim it as my own, since it is in a foreign country and from the 1800's.

I leave you with the tune you may or may not know, but you definitely should

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Thu, 30 Sep 2010 22:05:00 +0000

The One About Right, Left, and That Place In the Middle

Well, we're gearing up for yet another election season and the fur has begun to fly. This side did that, the other side did that thing, and by God that new party is filled with racist troglodytes! It brings me to the question is this really the best we can do?

We're failing here folks. Failing badly. And worst of all, we're not listening to any of the conversations. We're too busy asserting ourselves and then, by virtue of the assertion, we're too busy defending ourselves. Productive no?

I met a man from somewhere else not too long ago. As we sat around and chatted, the conversation turned to politics. He said something that's stuck with me "Americans never get anything done because they're too busy taking sides."

I though the comment was arrogant at the time. After-all, I'm an American and we get things done. We right wrongs, fight injustice, blah, blah, blah... but in a sense, he's right. We don't get things done, not lately... We just take sides.

It got me thinking about talking, listening, politics, and people. Do we really "hear" what the discussion is? Are we "hearing" what others want? Do we "hear" the solutions in the conversations? Or do we just regurgitate the sound bytes from the "side" we identify with??

I miss the thinkers in this life, I meet too few these days. I meet a lot of folks who have plenty of things to say, but nothing that they've put their own thought into the topic.

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Sat, 11 Sep 2010 23:35:00 +0000

The One About What Wasn't Done

I'm a bad blogger, I'll admit it. I intend on writing many things, but sometimes life gets in the way and it just doesn't get done. That doesn't mean that I'm a bad blog reader though. Part of my morning ritual is to read the 30 or so blogs that show up in my reader. I love observation, I love peeking into other lives, I love words.

So this morning, I did the usual. Made the coffee, sat down in front of the glowing screen and started down the list. The list is always smaller on Saturdays, I get that. But today....

Himself and I shared coffee while we watched the morning news. Of course this morning's news was a rerun of news that we all were glued to nine years ago. We watched quietly, both of us remembering exactly where we were, what we were doing, and the tempest that carried us through the days that followed. We thought of those who were lost, those who lost loved ones, and those who pitched in and touched the lives of so many.

We moved on with our day. I turned my attention back to the screen in front of me, and noticed something odd. Not one of the posts in my reader included anything about what happened nine years ago. After years of bloggers contributing to projects about 9/11 victims, after years of bloggers telling their own 9/11 stories, there was not one damn thing in my reader that made this Saturday different from any other Saturday.

I am ashamed.

I am ashamed that I admired some of these people.

I am ashamed that I contributed anything (however small) to their causes or careers.

I am ashamed that remembrance must be fashionable to be "done".

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Wed, 08 Sep 2010 21:06:00 +0000

The One About Legalities and Sensitivities

So, apparently, there's a little church somewhere in the wilds of Florida, that has decided it would be a smashing idea to have a bonfire with copies of the Quran on the anniversary of September 11th. The pastor seems to believe that somehow, this makes a statement against radical Islam. I shall not discuss radical Christians or the fact that this act makes you exactly the same as the people you're making a "statement" against. That, of course, would be foolish.

What I will discuss, or mull over as it were, is the fact that this Pastor and his congregation have every right to roast marshmallows over any book they choose. Including, but not limited to, the Quran. It's not the most sensitive or intelligent thing to do, but it is their right to do so. Period.

What I'm struck by here, is not that people are all over this tiny little church but that people are screaming "insensitivity!" all around town. The same people by the way, who were screaming that it's a right to build a mosque at Ground Zero. Because sensitivity should never trump a constitutional right.... right?? Because after all, if you put sensitivity ahead of a persons right you must be anti something. After all, you're infringing on somebody's right . That's un-American after all.... right? You've got to be discriminating...right?

So not right. Let me be perfectly clear here. I do not agree with the actions of this Florida church. I don't think anyone of any persuasion is going to listen to what you say after you kick them in the shin. That being said, I will defend their right to have a bonfire with whatever they want to. It is their right as Americans.

It's fascinating to me that rights only apply to the cause of the day. It's also fascinating to me that the very same people who wave the flag, and cloak themselves in the title of American will defend the right of one group to act insensitively and yet decry the insensitivity of another as they exercise their own right.

Hypocrisy never healed a damn thing.

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Mon, 06 Sep 2010 12:37:00 +0000

The One About What You Are

My four year old daughter is obsessed with pea soup. Specifically, my pea soup. For some odd reason, she asks for it constantly. She can name almost all of the ingredients and her face lights up at the mere suggestion of the steamy green stuff. Yesterday, she announced to Himself that "Mommy's a good chef" while she sang the praises of the blessed pea soup. I said thank you, we all laughed and we moved on with our day. But it stuck with me... at least the word "chef" did.

See, I'm not a chef. I'm a pretty good cook and I can adjust just about any recipe for may family's tastes, but I cannot walk to my pantry, whip out a few ingredients and "create" a meal. You will never find me with a jar of capers, a can of tuna and an original idea all at the same time. Just not who I am...

So it got me thinking. About labels, about the internet, about blogging, writing... about CREATING. Making things, being original, originality in general, fact, fiction, wishes, actions, presentation, truth, lies, and the stuff in between...

(Yep, that's my brain. It's gets all different kinds of busy up in here)

Awhile ago, the great big blogging community had a great big kerfluffle about the term "writer", specifically, "real writers" and what exactly makes a "real writer". The definition of the word "writer" basically says that if you can form words, you're a writer. So every semi-literate person out there who puts pen to paper or fingers to keyboard is technically a writer, myself included. But is that fair? Especially out here in the vast web-o-sphere?

It appears that everyone would like to label themselves as something out here. Mommy blogger, Design Blogger, Daddy Blogger, Travel Blogger, Food Blogger, Political Blogger...etc. Almost all of them label themselves as "writers". But are they? Is the term valid if you're earning a living from it? Or is it about exposure? What about actual print? Is that more or less valid than the internet itself?

My definition of "writer" has always contained the term "create". Along with the word "original". If you've created something original in words, in my view, you're a writer. It seems that I'm the minority. Out of the 30 or so blogs that I read regularly, maybe 2 or 3 of them are actual writers. All of them purport to "be" writers, but few actually are. Few actually exhibit an original thought. It doesn't mean that they're not interesting, it just means that they're not "original".

But it's all in the marketing isn't it? Call yourself something and therefore, that must be what you are. Say it often enough and loud enough and someone, somewhere will believe it. Call yourself something, re-write some copy, and viola! You suddenly are what you wished you were all along.

But is that who you are???

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 16:22:00 +0000

The One About Black and White

Several weeks ago, Himself was outside with the Eggroll. Our neighborhood is ripe with little kids and there was a small group of them playing across the street. The Eggroll, being the social little kid that she is, wanted to play with the other kids and as she started across the street, one of the kids yelled "You can't come over here because you're black and white".

I think time may have stopped for Himself. The Eggroll stated that she is in fact NOT black and white, she's Chinese. She returned to her father and shortly thereafter they both came into the house.

When he told me the story, I was a little put off, but not nearly as upset as he was. I told him that I was going to see the offending child's mother at a function, and if I had an opportunity, I would speak to her about it. The function came and went and although she was there and we spoke, the time to bring up something such as that just never arose. Himself was disappointed but not particularly upset.

Several days ago, I caught the Mom on the street. We chatted for a few minutes and since we were alone, I decided that the time was right for a difficult topic. As I relayed the story, I didn't flat out tell her that it was HER child that had uttered the phrase. I just said that one of the kids did it and that I thought she should be aware. She apologized profusely for the incident and I told her that it certainly didn't bother us, but it certainly might not be received well in other company.

Situation resolved....

When I told Himself about the conversation, he was disappointed that I had not pointed out to her that it was her kid. He felt as though I let her off the hook. I told him that no matter how you word that one, no one is going be open and receptive when you accuse their kid of any kind of racism. It's calling them a racist by proxy...just not going to work....

And then, a half an hour later ...

"Oh Shit!" (he's watching the baseball game)

"Whassamatter? They give up another run?"

"No, no. Oh shit!"

"What is your issue?"

"The White Sox dammit!"

"What?"

"The White Sox, Nyt... their slogan.."

"What about their slogan?"

"Their slogan is "it's black and white" and we've had so many conversations with those parents about who's a Sox fan and who's a Cub's fan..."

"Oh shit...indeed"

Situation not exactly resolved.....

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 11:29:00 +0000

The One About Keeping It Simple, Stupid

I think life is inherently simple. In other words, I think that there are basic things that work 99.99% of the time.

Tired? Then sleep.

Hungry? Then eat.

Confused? Ask a question.

Still confused? Ask some more questions.

Still confused? Do your research.

Angry? Say it out loud.

Hurt? Say that out loud too.

Falling behind? Work harder.

Dirty? Clean it.

I have a very simplistic view of my life... do unto others...

The other day, Himself and the Eggroll were hanging in the front of the house. The kids across the street were outside playing and as any four year old will tell you, it's way more fun to hang with other kids than it is to hang with your parents. As Himself and the Eggroll headed across the street, the youngest tow-headed little girl yelled "Eggroll, you can't come over here because you're black and white".

??????????

Himself explained that the Eggroll is not black and white, but Chinese. The Eggroll chimed in with "I'm from China" and the two of them returned home forthwith. After relaying this incident to me, I soothed both of the offended parties and promised that I would speak to the Mom at the BTS luncheon that's happening in a few days.

Simple right?

Not so much. See there's nothing in my simple bag of tricks for this one. I know I have to say it, but I'll be damned if I know HOW to say it. How do I say this one without a) making someone sound like a racist or b) making myself sound like a petty fool or c) making people uncomfortable or d) all of the above??

Under the category of "do unto others" I have to say that I would want to know if my kid behaved this way, or said something like that. But I also know that my kid's behavior is a reflection of myself and Himself. And as a wife and a parent I will defend both of them to the death. I have to assume that it's that simple for other folks as well.

That simple fact plus my simple fact leaves me with a complicated conversation, and a whole bunch of considering to do in the meantime.

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Wed, 18 Aug 2010 12:30:00 +0000

The One About The Marriage Rule

"The only way anyone is leaving this marriage is in a body bag or a box"

-Himself-

He said this to me during an argument one time, and it stuck. For us, it speaks to the level of commitment we have to one another, and to our family. We are very different people, he and I, but we are committed to each other and in some very strange ways, we complete one another. I forget from time to time, how integrated we actually are.

I'm thinking of making it a bumper sticker...

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 15:20:00 +0000

The One About Heirlooms and Albatrosses

Momma was a great collector of stuff, a saver of things, a shopaholic. Every item had meaning and value to her, whether she used it or not. She could pretty much tell you the history and story behind just about every item she possessed. We had a standing joke between us, I would mercilessly tease her about her accumulating exploits and tell her that she couldn't die until she got her "stuff" in order. She would tell me her accumulations were guaranteeing that she would live forever... She didn't and without notice or preparation, I became the Shepard Of Stuff.

I grew up learning about the "things" that surrounded me. So many items were tagged with the admonishment to "never get rid of this" or "this belonged to.." or whatever reason she believed gave importance to the selected item. I carry these admonishments with me to this day.

And therein lies the problem...

In no particular order I am the owner of:

2 full sets of fine china along with a smattering of odd pieces left over from generations before...

An entire set (and I mean every piece made) of Waterford Crystal along with an almost full set of Orrefors.

2 full sets of sterling silverware

A 60's era dining room set that I've never really been crazy about but it was my grandmothers so I've toted it with me for the last 20 years...

A vast array of chachtkes , paintings and decorative items. Some "quality", some not so much...

Plus 20 years of my OWN accumulations and those of Himself..

My many cups runneth over...

Recently, Himself and I came to the decision that we are staying right where we are until circumstances change so much that we can't live here. We've been in this house almost seven years and with a little tweaking, it will fit us for many years to come. We've decided to swap some rooms, change some furniture and really make this place suit the way we live. We are not fancy people. Should you enter our home we want you to feel free to have a seat, have a drink, have a meal, tell us your stories, listen to ours, relax, recreate...rest... We want to be focused on you, your focus to be on us, our mutual focus to be on one another. It's about family, friends and fine times for us, not fancy stuff.

Achieving this means unloading much of the "stuff". The same "stuff" that I was told for years was important "stuff", heirloom "stuff", "stuff" that I should never get rid of. But I need to get rid of it. And I'm having a hell of a time doing it. Logically and rationally I know the "stuff" is weighing us down. It's weighing me down. I know that it would never be fair to saddle my husband or my child with the "stuff". But I feel a tremendous amount of guilt each and every time I even consider getting rid of the "stuff". And then there's the "what if I find out that I NEED this "stuff"?" portion of the program. It's making a kind of large project into a kind of huge project.

And it's making me slightly more insane than I was to start with...

noreply@blogger.com (Nyt) — Fri, 06 Aug 2010 18:29:00 +0000

The One Where Falling Behind is Disguised as Keeping Up

Every parent is convinced that their child is special. And it's true, every child is special in their own way.

An interesting discussion happened around these parts not too long ago.

Some of you may know that Himself teaches at both the undergraduate and graduate levels. In addition to a regular job, he takes great joy in teaching. It's something I'm convinced he'll be doing for the rest of his life. What he's discovering, however, is that students are rarely arriving fully prepared for undergraduate or graduate studies. Darn near every student is lacking in some basic skill (math comes first followed closely by writing skills) and many students ask for adjustments to either tests or assignments. And don't even get him started on critical thinking... It will be the end of all of us.

That being said, it got me thinking about what's happening to our kids. How do we think we can educate our children well if we're so busy accommodating every child's "special" circumstances? How do our children fare in classrooms where there is one teacher for every 30 or so students? Especially if any number of those students have a "need" that is above and beyond the ordinary? Since the law requires that all students be given an "appropriate" education how do we administer that fairly across the board? And are we short-changing our children with the "feel-good" style of parenting and teaching.

I see my own child, as young as she is, being given the answers to questions if she so much as hesitates before answering. Is that because her hesitation holds up the rest of the class, or is it part of the feel good thing? I see backwards letters being accepted as correct, slurred or incorrect pronunciation being accepted as correct. (I was actually chided by a young speech teacher when I corrected my child for saying "mines" instead of "mine". Apparently I should have known that "mines" is the Black English form of "mine" and therefore perfectly acceptable).

I can't help but wonder if we lower the standard for the 5 kids in a classroom who we must "accommodate" are we not then lowering the standards for the other 25 kids? In our zeal to make sure that some keep up with the rest are we not holding the rest back?

The Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development ranks the U.S. 18th out of 36 nations examined. That means that 50% of the world educates their children better than we educate ours. How in the world can that be? Have we accommodated ourselves right out of the competition?

Right here, right now, it looks as though we have...