Slowburn

Anna Hazare

2011-04-08T13:40:00.003-04:00

Heavy cynicism alert.

Much about Anna Hazare in the news, particularly if you're a South Asia watcher and on Twitter. And there are many good articles about him, but none starts out as well as this one by Manu Joseph:

If you happen to watch television news or read the newspapers, you may feel that the nation is on the brink of a revolution unleashed by an austere man in a white cap not many wear anymore. Anna Hazare, a former driver with the Indian Army who has the useful Indian talent for sitting cross-legged for long periods, is right now on a thin white mattress by a wayside in Delhi, having vowed to fast until death or until the Government agrees to set up a potent anti-corruption body made up of good people who would have power over all important arms of the Government.

begin cynicism

Anyone else look at that last line and thought what I did? "Hope to hell the old man has his will and DNR instructions in place."

/end cynicism

It could happen. I'd love dearly to be wrong. But I'm reminded of an interview I happened upon while in the car this week, might have been about Zimbabwe on PRI's The World (but don't quote me on that). Someone said that there sometimes has to be a tragedy for a crisis to have a tipping point. Except India is so big that I wonder if perhaps all the scandals and tragedies of the last few years have yet to peak.

I dearly hope the tragedy will NOT be the passing of Hazare because really, he's not young, and a bhook hartal can take a serious toll on a body.

Reverb11: What's Blossoming?

2011-04-05T09:05:00.002-04:00

My courage level. That's what's blossoming.

I had to just get through the downtime, which isn't over. But I see motion - professionally. I see ease - personally. And I see clearly, for the first time in a long time, what matters and what does not. I don't even find myself having to be ruthless and saying, "That's gotta go. It's adding no value." It's more like, "That has served it's purpose, and it's time is done."

What a relief.

I'd like to say this is all my doing. But honestly, I think it was just getting to a certain point - sleeping through the night, not feeling so brittle in the morning even if things remain uncertain (and oh, how they do!), and reminding myself that I am neither as fabulous nor as fucked up as they say I am.

It also helps to just shove a really large cookie into the Nervous Nellie in my head and shut her up. The better to simply ignore or be willfully oblivious to what I'm up against and go for whatever I want. New campaign, new client, new hair do, new nail color. At worst, I fail upwards. At best, I succeed beyond my expectations.

That's what's blossoming.

"We're at war with Libya? Really?!"

2011-03-21T08:24:00.008-04:00

Doh! Major edit - I should clarify that the article I reference by Beinart seems to encapsulate all the reasons we're at war, but the fulminating bullets after that are all me. And now, back to the fulminations.

Yes, we're at war with Libya. This article by Peter Beinart seems to encapsulate all the reasons why we're at war with Libya and bombing Gaddafi. In short:

1) Libya's blessed/cursed with a geopolitical sweet spot - it's neither too far (Congo - where it would have taken enormous effort to do anything effectively, assuming we understood what the hell was going on to start with) nor too close (Bahrain, where the morals of the situation are clear as a bell but the convenience of the US Navy's Fifth Fleet, and oh yeah, that whole Iran/Israel/Syria thing complicates matters, un peux).

2) Oil. Just enough for people to give a shit when "they", the people, culture, and history are nothing like ours.

3) Enough history, proximity, and long-term interests between Europe and Libya that it's not just a US show and we have a chance to make this work effectively. AKA, it's easier to support a war when it's not just your blood at stake. Even better when there's less of your blood at stake than the other guys. Sorry, but that's how it works.

And to this I will add something else - it's easy to bomb the man who is considered such a loon that none of his neighbors are going to say a word. And I mean total and utter loon. You could argue that the other dictators and bullies are also loons of a sort, but:

a) They're not totally off the wall so much as just thoroughly dislikeable people (the Bahraini establishment that gassed and attacked sleeping families in Pearl Square) or eccentrics who are crazy like a fox and surrounded by people who can get it together (Ahmedinejad).

b) They're better armed. Gaddafi has neither factor in his favor. Think about it, there's a reason everyone negotiates with that other loon, Kim Jong Il. You think we wouldn't be negotiating in six-party talks if Gaddafi had nuclear ambitions, not to mention actual suspected capability?

"Out of my mind, but hey, I'm armed!"

Last but not least, people here in the US seem to think of this in terms of "another war in the Middle East." Um, HELLOOOOO!!!!, look again at the map, dimwits. Libya's in North Africa. It speaks Arabic, but that doesn't make it the Middle East anymore than speaking English makes the Australians part of the western hemisphere.* I mean, really?

Do you suppose Arab League would care more if they really did think Gaddafi and the Libyans were one of them?

(* Yes, Libya's right next to Egypt, and if you talk to Egyptians, there's a good number that think of themselves as neither Arab nor African. They're just Egyptians, with a long and rich history of letters and culture that is Arabic, and therefore became one of the centers of gravity of the Arab World. But it's not an a = b= c sorta thing. Neighborhood doesn't not a cultural equivalency make. Exhibit A: Iran. It's just we who live far away who lump the whole lot together with no appreciation for the reality on the ground. I figure this is how the Walloons feel in Belgium.)

Why I Will Never Be Rich And Famous. Reason # 4729

2011-03-13T13:14:00.004-04:00

MR. SCHULTZ usually rises at 4 a.m., without an alarm, downs a Starbucks Sumatran coffee at home, followed by a short double latte or espresso macchiato from one of two Starbucks stores he visits on his way to work. He arrives in his office by 6:30.

From A Changed Starbucks. A Changed CEO.

And right there, ladies and gentlemen, is why I will probably never be rich or famous.

A) I hate mornings. Love them once I'm up, but hate the waking up part.

B) I think I felt my heart go from increased rate to borderline palpitate just reading that bit about the coffee followed by a shot double latte. All by 6:30 am.

If I Had A Month To Live....Reverb11

2011-03-04T20:42:00.003-05:00

The question: "If March 2011 was your last month to live, how would you live it?"

Well that one's easy. But I have to say the answer is primarily because a close friend had a brush with death. And wow, nothing will make you strip away the artifice and figure out what's most important fastest.

I'd write a letter to my children to tell them all the things I don't seem to say enough, because I'm mostly nagging them to do things in the here and now. "Go wash your hands." "I don't care if you don't feel like it, go sit on the potty." "Let's go brush your teeth again, they don't quite look clean enough." Etc....I'd write them letters to tell them how much I love them, how I will watch over them wherever I'm going (so they better darn well continue to pay attention to things like personal hygiene and picking up their rooms!). That I will always be in their hearts, that I don't stop loving them just because I'm no longer here. I'd tell them how much I want for them. Not what they're going to do for a living - although it helps to pick a good profession with prospects - but how I want them to be happy, productive people that any one would be proud to have as a spouse, a friend, and a parent. And I'd tell them again, how I love them more than anything in the world, more than even Daddy.

As for Daddy, I've written him more emails, letters, and smutty sweetie notes than anyone can possibly want to hold on to, even a pack rat like him. So I'd just have a ton of sex. There would be much hand holding, and smooching. There would also be a great deal of detailed instructions on the minutiae of who does what when where in what part of the day, so that the wheel wouldn't have to be reinvented. But mostly, there would be togetherness. A great deal of quiet company. Because after all these years there isn't much to say, there is only to be.

I'd get my sister to come visit so I can hug her one last time, go to a movie with her, watch an old Bollywood favorite together that we'd never finish because I'd fall asleep about halfway through. I'd need tissues with her more than anyone, I think.

I'd call my parents. And despite the fact that time has not made our relationship any less complicated - does it ever? - I would probably spend a great deal time on the phone and on skype with my mother, ask her for recipes and words and expressions in my language that I can't remember. I'd put it all in a book so my sister, who says she doesn't really care, will have it. Because I think she'd treasure it nevertheless. I'd make two copies. One for her, one for my kids - who will have very little to connection (mac n cheese and pb sandwich kids that they are), but will someday, hopefully, treasure it because it will be a part of their heritage and what will set them apart from the rest.

I'd make sure every scrap of love letter, photo, video, dvd, heirloom is accounted for, entrusted to the executor. Because that is what the people I love will have left of me. On a more practical note, I'd shut down and erase all the facebook type stuff. Oh yes. It would be one long erase party.

Really, that's it. Or rather, there would be more like it. Over and over. I'd tell the people in my life I love them. I'd call and say all my goodbyes. Because ultimately, life is about the people I love, the friends I talk to every day.

And yes, we took a good long hard look at our insurance recently. We don't have enough, and it's a big fucking crapshoot. Ain't nobody better die any time soon.

On that dee-lightful note, I have to go nag a child into going the hell to bed. And make sure every last tooth is brushed. And ears have been dried. And father and child do not make the going to bed into a long escapade of the mind that does nothing to help the weekend get off to anything resembling a sane start.

"Luke, I am your father....": Voices And Types.

2011-02-17T22:58:00.013-05:00

Came across this really funny article about actors, voices, and types. Sample:

The Man's Man:
Most Notable: George Clooney*
He’s confident, traditionally masculine and his voice is there to remind you that he’s got it all under control. It scratches but doesn’t growl. Grills steaks outdoors but never wears a “Kiss the Cook” apron. He doesn’t have to yell, but he can menace you easily just by getting a little stern and maybe dropping a register. More importantly, men want to be him and women want to be with him. Clooney wins this one because he’s also capable of conveying an occasional vulnerable streak. Of course, ultimately that’s a seduction move and it gets the characters he plays just about anything they want. (Exception: “The American,” where he barely speaks at all and spends two hours building a gun.)

Then I saw the following:

The Ruler of the Manor
Most notable: Judi Dench
This voice is precise. It is correct. It is to be respected and, if you’re the downstairs cook who accidentally salted the dessert, feared. It’s the reason you want chocolate-covered biscuits with your afternoon tea and the reason you loved “The King’s Speech” and only strongly liked “The Social Network.” Dench is masterful in this regard. You recognize her immediately because, even though she’s only now in her 70s, it feels as though she’s been playing that age, disapproving of almost everyone and everything around her, since she was 30. If something is “just not done,” she will tell you about it first with a glance, then by clearing her throat and, finally, because you are too dense to have noticed the first and second warning, she will speak. And you will change your ways.
Hear Also: Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith, Ian McKellen, Stephen Fry, Emma Thompson, all British actors of a certain age

Perhaps it's because I'm Indian, but I had to look at that and go, "Um, no." Why? Well, a) they're not the only ones who can do it b) I'm Indian, perhaps I've no romance about the British and c) it's sorta rather reductively stereotypical, don't you think? Hello, everyone in About A Boy. Or Emma Thompson, in that movie and also in Sense and Sensibility, Last Chance Harvey, Love Actually, or Dead Again. I adore Emma Thompson, but have only ever found her scary in the Nanny McPhee things because of the scary fake nose, and perhaps in Brideshead Revisited. (Although, I found everyone rather scary in Brideshead.)

Plus if you talk to the average Brit I'm betting they'd probably roll their eyes at the notion - the vast majority of them decidedly not upper class, best I can tell. Much as we here in the US would shrug at someone else's send up of, oh, anyone Southern, say. We are not all, south of the Mason Dixon, an either/or version of Julia/Suzanne Sugarbaker. And I say that as someone who has now lived more time in one shot in Virginia than anywhere. No, I do not belong, odd duck that I seem to be anywhere I live. But yes, it means I can see all the ways in which the Southern stereotypes are just that – caricatures, some of which lend themselves a whole lot more to our collective entertainment. Think about it, how much fun are you gonna have watching the people who inspired American Gothic?

My point exactly.

But here's what I really thought when I read this article – there should be the arch and mouthy Indian. You know, like me! Or any of the women in my family, really. Together, acerbic, dry wit. Someone who's adult and zen enough to stand up to the alpha dogs in the room, smart enough to manage the prima donna who doesn't realize that's what happening, laid back though her feet are pedaling under the water furiously because Sprezzatura while multitasking like nuts is what separates the children from the grown-ups. But don't piss her off. Because it's likely that if you do, you will regret it, publicly. Because all of a sudden the acerbic wit is horribly sarcastic, accompanied by a clear voice that carries to the end of the dairy aisle at 11 am on Saturday, and you wonder what happened to your fun, amusing, entertaining gal pal.

But me, in particular, I want to be Sheila Brooks or Lou Thornton, from the West Wing. Think CJ Cregg - who I so want to be when I grow up - especially in the one where she schools the journalist who wanted to score cheap points off a black Vera Wang.

Yes, I heart the West Wing. Yes I follow all the characters on twitter.

Hey, you're reading this lame blog, aintcha? We're all allowed our secret delights. :)

*I heart George. That is all.

Superbowl Post: "Luke, I Am Your Playdate."

2011-02-06T21:02:00.004-05:00

1) I can't take credit for that title. That's from Andy Carvin's twitter feed. Which is why he works at NPR. And I .... blog randomly.

2) Feeling vaguely self-important and hip and with it because I saw the VW ad before it played during Superbowlapalooza. In fact, knew all about what people were talking about on the twitter stream Superbowl conversations. Because I'm connected? No. Because I watch football? Uhm, no. Answer is because Penelope Trunk had a really interesting post about how the ad was an anthem to Gen X.

I have to say, I clicked on just about all the links in Trunk's blogpost. Read them all in one go. A lot of it I can relate to. Which is odd, because although I fit in the age category of Gen X, I don't really identify with it. Because I was 18 when I came here and therefore, always thought I was sort of an outsider. The issues I grapple with, after 20 years of living the US, are still coated with such a heavy layer of outsiderville that I still look at these discussions and think "huh, how interesting." As if I'm not living them. Which I am.

Some of the things she mentions in the post are definitely things that "happened to other people" - divorces, nope.

But I look at this paragraph halfway through:

It’s also our heyday because Gen X values are front and center. And we’re about family. We don’t earn as much as Baby Boomers did because we work such fewer hours. We’vedownsized our careers to take care of our kids. We’ve taken back the dignity of working part-time. We’ve deconstructed stay-at-home parenting as a respectful career alternative.

And I think to myself fewer hours, check. Downsizing the career to take care of the kids, check. The dignity of working part-time, I wish that were an unequivocal check, not there yet. The respectful career alternative, sorta.

I will have no regrets years from now that I got in the slow lane for a while. But there are many things I will not miss - the smallness and endlessness of days with the hours checked off by drop-off, grocery runs, unloading those groceries with the younger one clinging for dear life to my knee AND the bag, pacifying snack followed by clean up and diaper change, lunch, more snack, more clean up, a nap if I'm lucky (during which I work like a fiend on things that can't be put off anymore), the screaming end to nap followed by pick up of older one, and then the absolute barreling onslaught that is the dinner + bath + bed express.

I will miss the sweetness of the children at bedtime when the big light is finally, praise God, off. I will miss the cuddling - one second followed by much wiggling. I will miss the part where they still fit against me in the glider when they're all squinched up. And I will miss how I can hold them. All of them.

But I think I will be relieved that I can once again live like a grown up. Right now, it is daft to try and pick up every last lego or attempt to sit down on the couch without being assaulted by small people unaware of how their skulls and knees always - ALWAYS - find the part of the body that goes "ow!" the loudest.

Permanent Guests: Tibetans in India

2011-02-04T13:38:00.003-05:00

I didn't know this, but apparently tens of thousands of Tibetan refugees in India remain exactly that - guests, non-citizens. Despite having been in the country for decades, they are permanent guests of the Indian state.

I'm simultaneously embarrassed and perplexed that I didn't know this. And I'm betting millions of Indians in India don't either. Perplexed, that is, the embarrassment is all mine.

I'd never have guessed that they aren't citizens because frankly, although a minority, Tibetans are such a normal part of urban Indian life. I've always thought that Tibetans, although once from Tibet and dreaming of a home now controlled by the Chinese*, were part and parcel of India. They dressed like us, spoke English and Hindi like us, went to school with us. Furthermore, recently, as a generation of younger Tibetans - all born and raised in India - comes of age with less patience than their elders, they've had the nerve to increasingly protest in large numbers and in public. I was convinced they did that because they were citizens with every right to do so.

Apparently I was quite misinformed. And one young woman, Namgyal Dolkar, recently fought for the right to an Indian passport. And won. Good for her.

* hey, everyone knows that last bit - especially if you were educated in the Indian school system

Reverb 11: What Question Are You Living?

2011-02-03T21:19:00.002-05:00

I got into the Reverb10 exercise late in the game - there are some 7 birthdays in the family in December, not to mention the holidays. Really, I have no idea what the heck I was thinking. But I did enjoy it and the new year's resolution (yes, yes, trying one for the first time in a long time) is to attempt to write on a semi-regular basis. You know, more than once in a blue moon.

So here we go, with Reverb11, which will send me prompts that will stare me in the eyeballs from the unblinking constantly refreshing inbox that is gmail. It's more effective than guilt, I tell you. With that...

February Prompt: One month into 2011, what question(s) are you living? Are there any prompts/questions that arose during #reverb10 that are still resonating in your life? Are you living new questions?

Like #reverb10, you may respond to this prompt as-is or remix it to suit your needs. Write, blog, photograph, draw or respond however you’d like. Tag on Twitter or Flickr with the hashtag "#reverb11" to share with others!

The question I default to is this - "How long am I going to be in idle?"

For a variety of reasons, I'm in stasis. The job search is at a standstill, the finances are blah (see previous bit about job search and more on that later), the body is starting to show every line/sag/lump/bump ever faster .... and here is the "more" part - I used the word "blah" because that's what it is. It's not bad, it's not precarious, it's not terrifying. All of which are states of distress in which I've been and do not for a moment forget. But blah means that I feel unable to make plans. Unable to move forward. And so every day, I ask myself how long I am going to be in "idle" and then I say to myself, "suck it up, it could be so much worse." Because the question I should be living in is this - "Did you exhale and look around and feel better? It works just about every time."

It does. And the answer I am living is this - "There but for the grace of God, go I. And here, where I cannot and will try not to complain, is love, contentment, a full belly, a warm home, a dry roof, and rich friendship. Here is where I am relearning the lesson of an itinerant childhood and sometimes skating-on-thin-ice youth - you don't have to have a lot to have a lot."

And that is leading to a big question that I seem to live about two hundred times a day - "How much do you need that shiny new thing/piece of nostalgia/unnecessary plastic object?"

I've been throwing out and decluttering a LOT. Old kid clothes, books, cds, things I haven't read or used or worn in forever. And thanks to the idiocy that is the lovely CPSIA law all the old kid toys and clothes that have tons of use left in them? Garbage. But I gotta tell ya, I marvel at the empty space when it happens (before it's overtaken by legos from growing kids), and am reminded why I bought the fugly house on the street that I do actually really like.

The Selena Stamp!

2010-12-28T18:27:00.007-05:00

The USPS just unveiled new stamps for 2011. And I was so thrilled to see the Selena stamp. I'm going to buy a bunch of them. Because I remember being one of, oh, four people in a matinee for the no-buzz first-day-first-show in a not so cheap neighborhood in Los Angeles. I was utterly moved by the story, not to mention Jennifer Lopez' breakout turn (I'd seen her in a couple of other things before, but not front and center, like this). And here's what I remember the most - leaving the theater, now dark, to walk into a crown of about 50 people in line, far more than usual for a small-ish theater. All Latino, many of them young girls as young as 8, dressed exactly like Selena in the "bidi bidi bom bom" sequence, puffy sleeves and all. It was one of those sweet moments when you realize you're watching something happen in front of you.

No, it wasn't a neighborhood that usually saw many Latinos do much else other than clean or generally be invisible. And the crowd didn't make anyone nervous - I mean, who's gonna be afraid of a bunch of excited pre-teen girls clearly in princess mode with utterly bored moms in tow? But the sudden influx of brown registered alright. It was one of those moments where your community's many fault lines suddenly converge in a fascinating way. In this case race, ethnicity, class, and culture.

I loved the movie. A week later, when everyone and their brother was making a beeline to see it, I was ahead of the curve. One of the few times in my life.

Reverb-10: And you are?

2010-12-23T08:30:00.002-05:00

Today's prompt:

New Name: Let’s meet again, for the first time. If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be and why? (Author: Becca Wilcott)

Have to say, I'm generally happy with my given name. It's unusual anywhere, and has a great backstory, so it's always been a great talking point. But if I had to be someone else for a day, I'd be a Julie. Because it's pronounceable (which my given name isn't always to people, in or outside India), but it would baffle people because I don't look like a Julie - which is to say, probably modern and big-city and fashion-forward and fun. Which describes just about all the Julies I've ever met. And although it isn't unusual for people to be Julie where I come from, it would be a bit of a bafflement nevertheless. Plus it would not detract from the surprises I seem to be full of when people try to figure out who I am or get a bead on me.

So I would be Julie XYZ, still a lady of mystery. But at least you wouldn't stumble all over your thick tongue if you wanted to woo me or buy me a drink. :)

Santa, My ass: In which we, the ones who do all the buying, have no patience with those who do not

2010-12-22T18:39:00.003-05:00

Everytime I click on this blog, I feel like retiring from all writing. Because honestly, it's just that good/relevant/hilarious/punchy/real-life.....all the things I want people to say when they read my posts. This one in particular, is oh so real (especially the part after "Dumbass....")

I give you, "My Dumbass Husband Believes in Santa."

I should clarify that my husband is not at all a dumbass. But oh, how I can relate to the rest of it!!

Reverb-10: the "assume the position" machines

2010-12-22T17:31:00.005-05:00

Coming reeeeaaaally late to this, but people I know are having so much fun with it, I can't resist.

Today's reverb prompt: "How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year? (Author: Tara Hunt)"

Answer: This year I travelled at great expense, in a panic, and not knowing if I'd get off the plane to sit at a hospital bedside or make it in time to the funeral. I hope never ever to do that again.

In a perfect world, next year, I hope to stay put. I hope to be able to have people come to me, if for no other reason that I hate the idea of going through what I call the "assume the position" machines. The idea of my kids going through it is even more nerve-wracking. I can just see the younger one taking off. Do they do Code Adams at international airports?

But that's not going to happen. So I will get on a plane and haul east. With children, and all the shit that comes with kids when you travel. The very thought is exhausting.

I would like to travel first class. I'd like to get on a plane because I want to go somewhere. Not because I have to. I'd like to go alone (okay, without the kids), somewhere old, crowded, not far off the beaten path - I like a minimum of three star accommodations and a mint under my pillow at the end of a dusty day on my feet exploring ancient things and places, thank you. I'd like to be exhausted at the end of the day and not a wreck the morning after because with kids there is no sleeping in.

And someday I will look forward to traveling with the kids. To exploring things with them. To having conversations with them about where we are, and not where the dinosaurs are instead of the art and when the next meal is and can we please carry them and and and.....

I would like to see the Al Hambra, Rajasthan, Goa, Kerala, and Sri Lanka.

I will settle for dinner for two and an overnight stay at the fancy hotel down the street. I do love the kids. I think I'd miss them by dessert.

How I Remember This Decade

2010-12-21T09:24:00.002-05:00

I went away for a while, then I came back. And I read in another blog the other day that there isn't a damn thing wrong with that. I know, regular bloggers would tell you otherwise. But really, life happens, kids happen, and then there's the whole "do you really have anything of value to add to the noise?" question that I always ask myself. Not to mention the whole, "there is no privacy on the web, so think really hard about what you're gonna say if you're job hunting" bit.

But every so often, there's a meme, and I'll think to myself that I should write that one up. For me if nothing else. This morning's meme, How I Remember This Decade. And really, writing it is another way for me to do something RogueReverend has suggested more than once - gratitude journal.

In the last decade I have:

Became a parent. They drive me nuts and the younger one will gray me faster than the possibility of a shitty retirement. But I love them to pieces.
Became - I hope - a less judgy person. Although that remains an ongoing challenge.
Became a home owner - and am grateful, daily, that I still have equity at a time when a lot of friends do not. (That would be the upside of being a terrified, conservative buyer who looked at the house and thought, "it's ugly, but it's solid and I can see myself growing old here....." I remind myself of that when I loathe the ancient kitchen cabinets at last once a week. And when I see friends' houses that are beautifully appointed, despite their own rugrats - how the hell do they do that?!)
Travelled, for pleasure, to four different countries - and by that I mean staying, eating, sightseeing. Not just sitting in a transit lounge.
Drove cross country and saw things most people only see in pictures.
Took a stand became a full fledged citizen of the US - this is now my country, warts and all. I will defend it to the death, I will criticize it louder than anyone, I will learn to sing the national anthem without sounding horrendously discordant. The last one is truly a work in progress.
VOTED!!!!!!
Reinvented myself professionally more times than a body is supposed to. Took stock of my life and quit working full time. I'd be lying if I said I don't wonder about the wisdom of that, at least once a week.
Learned to "manage" relationships and ditch the guilt. Quicker.
Learned that reinventing myself needs a daily reminder of "this is not how life is going to be forever, you're behind others now, but they made irrevocable decisions you were not prepared to make or live with. Let it go. Get out of the weeds. Get up on the roof. See the big picture? You'll get there."

When I grow up....

2010-06-08T21:14:00.001-04:00

Don't ask how, but once again, here I am, approaching the fourth decade, and I'm still wondering what I'm going to do when I grow up.

Really, I want to write a trashy romance novel beach read. Would that I had a) talent and b) a plot. A plot would be really really helpful.

Ayan Hirsi Ali on the AAP's "Nick" Recommendation

2010-05-21T13:54:00.004-04:00

People can have lots of objections to Ayan Hirsi Ali. But she comes to the American Academy of Pediatrics and female circumcision debate with an authenticity I wish never to suffer. I blogged my very conflicted support for the AAP's recommendation that American doctors be allowed to "nick" a girl's genitals if it will keep immigrant parents from going the whole hog and mutilating her in far less sanitary circumstances back home. And let me just reiterate the word "conflicted." Because I then read this section of Ali's article on the subject:

When the motive for FGM is to ensure chastity before marriage and to curb female libido, then the nick option is not sufficient.
Moreover, the nick option does not address the main problem in Western liberal democracies where FGM is outlawed, which is that it can almost never be detected, so that few perpetrators are brought to justice. Even if we were to consider tolerating it in its most limited form, how could we tell that parents who want to ensure that their daughter will be a virgin on her wedding night will not have her (legally) nicked and then a few months later (illegally) infibulated? I applaud the compassion for children that inspires the pediatricians’ proposal, but they need to eliminate this risk for little girls.

Eliminate the risk. How? Where does one start with that, how long is it going to take to make a difference, and in that time, what do you say to girls for whom the nick option may have made a difference? Are we so convinced that parents who want their girls to be pure are going to be so against the fig leaf of a nick that we don't even want to give it a try? What's more important? Leaving girls intact or not ever sullying ourselves as a society with any action that might make us complicit with a horrific tradition? There's a price for everything - to doing absolutely nothing other than criminalizing the tradition and driving it underground, or doing something that makes doctors aid and abet an antediluvian point of view with a surgical concession that might - might! - keep parents from doing worse. Where do you start? Gotta start somewhere, right? And that is when the rubber hits the road, isn't it?

And you know what surprises me? That I saw this in the NYT and then on the Daily Beast. That's it. I haven't seen it gather any real traction anywhere else. Admittedly, I have less time to troll news than I did and I almost never watch news on tv anymore. Still, I can tell when a story's big. Because people will talk about it at the store, or you'll hear snatches of conversation while you're out and about. But this issue? Nada.

Changing Minds a Ritual "Nick" at a Time

2010-05-07T15:24:00.005-04:00

I'm really conflicted about this. But here goes....

The American Academy of Pediatrics is suggesting that American doctors be given permission to perform a ceremonial pinprick or "nick" on baby girls if it will keep the parents from taking them abroad where they will not only be subject to female genital cutting at the very least, but perhaps full out mutilation at the worst, and with poor hygiene to boot.

I think this is the right approach. For now. Let me repeat that: For. Now. Because hey, call me crazy but I don't think there is anything good in any way shape or form about someone taking away my lady parts, thank you very much! And the point of this whole debate is to keep little girls from being cut up. And that starts in small ways, and if that starts with a pinprick under controlled medical supervision in the first world, so be it.

I remember getting in a fight with colleagues years ago on this subject. First of all, they wanted to use the term "female genital mutilation." And I refused. It is not my culture. And horrible as the practice is to me, it doesn't help defenseless baby girls if you just piss off the people in charge of them by coming in to the conversation like a cross between Lady Bountiful ("Let me help you!") and a condescending colonial missionary ("You are wrong! Repent or go to everlasting hell!") Second, there's many different kinds of female genital cutting. Some are far worse than others. Throw the word mutilation in there and you cheapen it. Think about that before you decide to use it.

Needless to say there is going to be much opposition to the recommendation from the AAP. Georganne Chapin of Intact America, an advocacy group, has the following to say:

“There are countries in the world that allow wife beating, slavery and child abuse, but we don’t allow people to practice those customs in this country. We don’t let people have slavery a little bit because they’re going to do it anyway, or beat their wives a little bit because they’re going to do it anyway.”

Well, there are problems with that way of thinking. For starters even if you don't support wife beating/slavery/child abuse, do you not see the vast difference between a little bit of slavery and/or beating your wife a little bit and a pinprick? I really really wish Ms. Chapin had come up with a better way to express her opposition to the AAP. Sometimes, the analogies just don't work.

And then there's Representative Joseph Crowley of New York, who has this to say: "“F.G.M. serves no medical purpose, and it is rightfully banned in the U.S.” Ya know, male circumcision serves no medical purpose either. But I'd love to be a fly on the wall and see the good Rep. Crowley say that to his constituents. In New York. Some of whom are Jewish. And please don't give me that crap about how male circumcision is necessary to prevent AIDS and STDS based on a study in Uganda. We don't all live there. Many of us live in economically more stable places where basic hygiene, and availability of clean water to enable said hygiene aren't in question. And oh yes, we don't all live in places where a woman's ability to demand that her partner wear a condom is a revolutionary act. (Think about it, there are many societies in the world that don't circumcise men - Japan for instance. They're not all epicenters of HIV.)

Female circumcision is a millenia-old practice. It's women who do it to women - what? you think men walk into a room in gender-segregated societies to cut up a little girl?! not sure they'd know what to look for. - and the bottom line is that if you're in it to save a little girl from a life of very traumatic everyday ablutions, it's better not to do an all or nothing approach. Because that will leave you with nothing. And it'll be millions of mutilated girls more before you get anything, much less all. The AAP's suggestion is good. For. Now.

Smiling Gleefully at Death

2010-05-06T10:40:00.005-04:00

The sole capture from the Mumbai attacks of 2008 has been sentenced to death. For many, justice will have been done when he goes to the gallows. I get that. And I am not about to argue the death penalty - that's another post entirely.

But am I the only person who is sad, and finds it distasteful that Special Public Prosecutor Ujjwal Nikam's face is beaming that broad and that gleeful a smile?

(photo credit)

Regardless of the circumstances - yes, even these - I find nothing celebratory about putting someone to death. Even if it is deserved.

Hutaree: Who Covers What?

2010-03-30T10:39:00.003-04:00

I stopped getting the dead-tree edition of the local paper after the kid arrived. Just that much more trash for them to get into and crunch about and eat. But then I started to get the WSJ. It was a work thing that just stayed. So now I'm one of those people who reads nearly all news online, watches nearly nothing (because really, trying to watch any news with children underfoot is just too much work for me), gets a sunday edition of the local paper out of sentiment (because I've usually read everything it has to offer online by Friday evening), and the WSJ, which has been described as, um, right wing. (enter droll sarcasm smiley of choice)

Naturally, it's really interesting how the news presents itself to me. And thusly, the slowburn question of the day: How come the WSJ has a front page story, and a full two page spread inside about the Moscow metro bombing but a half page on the third page of the same section of the paper on the Hutaree militia bust? And in fact, how come the story is already buried among other headlines online unless you look for it?

Yes, I realize the Moscow bombing is a much bigger story because 39 people died and the bombing of one of the world's largest subway systems also ties into GWOT and therefore gets more ink. But I'm still surprised at what an afterthought the Hutaree story seems in comparison. As of now, 11 am on a Tuesday morning, some 24 hours after the story broke, you'd have to hunt on the Post or the Times' home page to find out anything about it.

No this isn't a moral equivalency or "the media is racist and only cares if there are Muslims involved!" screed. I'm just genuinely curious about how soon the story seems to have blown over. Because these people weren't exactly small timing. They hated the government, they were going to target law enforcement, they were gonna either go big or go home.

Huh.

Published on Hue!

2010-03-29T19:49:00.002-04:00

I'm delighted to report that I was invited to guest post on Hue! The subject was Caste vs. Colorism. Thank you, Rachel, for the opportunity!

2010-03-20T14:16:00.003-04:00

It's a hilarious headline on the Post's lightbox this morning:

Gays to mass weddings: "I don't."

Well, no duh.

Best I can tell, the gay marriage issue is about legal recognition and the respect that comes with that for things like survivorship, next of kin, parental rights, and taxes. It's about wanting to be married, not a wedding. The folks I know couldn't give a shit about registries and dressing up and all that crap.

And besides, a mass wedding? After years of fighting for the right to be able to stand up in public and be counted as a couple who on earth would want to be part of a "mass wedding"? I mean, how many gay folk do you know who aren't inherently cool? They're not going to do something that mostly reminds the public of third world charity affairs or worse, the Moonies.

No Laptop for You!

2010-03-09T10:42:00.002-05:00

Professors are beginning to ban laptops in class. Frankly, I'm amazed it took this long! I remember professors in class who threw you out if you were caught doing anything other than listening, writing notes, or reading the text required for class.

In fact, I had one professor who said, more or less, on the first day of class, "I don't care if you eat, sleep, or make out. But it's insulting to my teaching and the work I put into it if I find you reading the college newspaper." And indeed, one day he stopped what he was doing, walked halfway up the class, calmly plucked a paper out of a student's hands and asked him to leave. It was an intro class of about 400 students in an amphitheater classroom. Point made.

And yes, although it would kill me not to have the laptop, which I think are generally the most wondrous things (bad handwriting awardee of all time, that's me), they can be hugely distractionary! Which is why I will now make a more determined effort to stop blogging/checking facebook/tweeting and try to go back to my other very boring but paying writing gig for the day. :P

Snyder vs. Phelps

2010-03-08T21:46:00.003-05:00

Upfront - I support equal rights and I support gay marriage. Period end. But honestly, even if I didn't, I think I'd still find Rev. Phelps and his crew utterly disgusting.

Who in their right mind goes up to mourners at a funeral to protest what they think is God's vengeance on a supposedly permissive society's, that too through it's army? Such incredibly whacked out logic. Not to mention completely and utterly insensitive and cruel. Talk about unChristian.

And yet, I will not be surprised if the Supreme Court finds in Phelps' favor. Because that's the rub of free speech. He has a right to protest, even if he's a disgusting asshole shithead about it.

Oh Crap. More Snow.

2010-02-08T13:41:00.002-05:00

Dear readers (all three of you) who worry about me and mine in the snow,

There's two feet of it. The weather needs to jack up the temp to about 90 for it all to melt. And if it did, it would have nowhere to go. So please don't pray for it to suddenly warm up or rain the snow away - because all it would do is flood my basement. Which is where I send the children to get out their yayas when going outside isn't much of an option. (There is nowhere to actually *put* a snowman if we build it, see?)

Not a damn thing to do here but give in, pray for the power to stay on, and bake a lot. Weight Watchers, here I come. You know, when I can actually get the hell out of the house in any reasonable fashion.

Thank you,

We who are about to be snowed in. Uh-gain.

Rainbows, Daisies, Oprah, Palins....

2010-01-22T16:19:00.002-05:00

A little vaccuousness after yesterday's bitterness. (Bitter even for me.)

I just turned on Oprah - ah yes, the joy of quiet time when there's actually something on TV I might give a chance. And what do I see but Sarah and Bristol Palin on Oprah. I came in at the end of the segment, so there's something about Bristol saying she'll never have sex again until she marries. (I think. I did come in late, I could be wrong.)

But what I mostly registered - Palin Sr.'s hair. What is with that church lady 'do? And the make up! Slapped on with a trowel. Too me a sec to realize it wasn't a blackeye. It was SO purple.

And you have to hand it to the woman. She has humor. It's the great leavening agent that will make me watch her. Sample:

Oprah: "It's 9 am here in Chicago. So it's three hours earlier there which means someone had to wake up at 3 am to curl your hair."

Sarah: "Oh no. We wake up looking like this."

Nope. Don't count her out unless you're Martha Coakley, I mean, an idiot.