What Have I Been Doing?

It's not like y'all have been clamoring for me, but a neighbor did say the other day, "Hey, you remind me of a blogger I used to read," so I thought I would try to get back on the horse. Things have been very very very busy. How, exactly? Not sure. Here's an incomplete list of the things I have been doing for the past few weeks:

1. Working

2. Throwing up (no, I am not pregnant. We all had the stomach flu last weekend)

3. Avidly following the "Mess in Mississippi". Basically the WSJ Law Blog and several other blogs know when Mr. Scobie is traveling to the Deep South before I do. I am not linking to them because I don't want any of them finding their way back to me. I won't be commenting on it, and if Mr. S objects to this paragraph, I will take it down.

4. Following the Writers' Strike:



5. Following the upcoming caucus with growing glee.

6. Preparing for Christmas.

7. Researching soup recipes.

That's about it. If I ever have anything interesting to say again, I will let you know.

Cracking Myself Up

Enjoy the family Christmas greetings by clicking HERE.

For the Unenlightened

Non-University of Chicago graduates are probably scratching their heads slightly at the comment by Steve after the post below. What is it with these Chicago people? So proud of their nerdiness. Geesh, I was a nerd in college too. (Thought balloon does not count if you were not a nerd. But since I don't know any non-nerds, I am not sure what you people think when you read Steve's comment). Let me give you a little taste of the ambrosia that draws the nerds in. Here's an admissions essay for the U of C:

Modern improvisational comedy had its start with the Compass Players, a group of University of Chicago students, who later formed the Second City comedy troupe. Here is a chance to play along. Improvise a story, essay, or script that meets all of the following requirements: It must include the line “And yes I said yes I will Yes” (Ulysses, by James Joyce).

• Its characters may not have superpowers.
• Your work has to mention the University of Chicago, but please, no accounts of a high- school student applying to the University—this is fiction, not autobiography.
• Your work must include at least four of the following elements:
• a paper airplane
• a transformation
• a shoe
• the invisible hand
• two doors
• pointillism
• a fanciful explanation of the Pythagorean Theorem
• a ventriloquist or ventriloquis
• the Periodic Table of Elements
• the concept of Jeong
• number two pencils

I went there and I am not even sure what all those things are (but ventriloquis is not a word). However, I feel reassured that I can stop grousing that Chicago has gotten easier to get in to.

The Nerdling

I really thought my first kid would be the nerdy (nerdier?) one. With his encyclopedic knowledge of military aircraft and paleo-historical creatures, his better-than-strong vocabulary has fully bloomed. But Thing 2 is sure giving Thing 1 a run for his money in the nerd department. At 16 months, the Q-ball is a complete bookworm. This is a common site (sorry about the photo quality - he's hard to sneak up on):


In case you are wondering what's going on in this picture, Q is "reading" a book on the couch. Every day, one by one, he pulls all the books off the shelf and leafs through them, sometimes humming or "talking" to himself. He chases us around the house, thrusting books at us, saying "mmm....mmm....mmmm....mmmm" until we finally stoop to read him something. Here's a better picture:
Dig the sweater vest?

Barely Holding It Together

That title of this post could refer to a number of things, including my weekend. I won't dwell on my weaknesses as a parent (holding it together until I dropped a full mango lasse on my foot and then almost crying like a baby), but rather discuss The One Show To Rule Them All. Yeah, The Wire.

Today, Season 4 was released on DVD. I pre-ordered it, so y'all will have to buy me something different for Christmas. I thought I could let it pass without mentioning, but UBM pointed out that there's at least one Wire "prequel" on Amazon. Pretty inside joke, probably improvised. There are two others you can get from the Season 4 DVD page.

Season 5 comes out January 6. You haven't heard the last of this. Please just watch it. Sheesh.

UPDATE: Okay, so I watched all three of them. They are like little love letters to Wire fans. Pure insider stuff, just meant to give us more about our favorite characters.

So This Is What's Come To

NBC will be debuting a show called Clash of the Choirs, in lieu of new shows written by actual writers.

You can't tell me that strike ain't working.

Oh.My.God

Barack Obama is a fan of The Wire. (swoon)

Oh, and my cuz has seen Andre Royo twice recently, just motoring around LA. I am wicked jealous.

Pretty Funny

Thanksgiving menu

“What?! Are you kidding? Can we roast a chicken? No, we can’t roast a chicken! How about fajitas? Or a chili bowl from Wendy’s? We’ll gather ‘round the Thanksgiving chili bowl from Wendy’s. Don’t talk on the phone with me while you’re typing. Talk to you later.”

 

- Mr. Scobie’s answer to a question I asked about the Thanksgiving menu

 

Even More Irritating!

As I mentioned a few days ago, I don't keep up much on the BPN Newsletters these days. But today, something caught my eye. A poster complained that her local precious market uses a marker to mark their organic produce. She is outraged by the ignorance and toxicity of this method of identifying produce. My first thought was, get over it. But of the seven responders, only one said, "Frankly, I think you're going way out on a limb on this one."

The other six people chimed in with various suggestions for community action, "vote with your dollar" nonsense. Seriously, has anyone in the entire world traced an illness, or even a bad taste in their mouth, to a dot of marker on the outside of their melon?

This one's even better:

The other thing is that at Monterey Fish market they use a very strong smelling, seemingly toxic magic marker to mark the outside of the fish package. I'd like to just pop the wrapped package into the freezer but always feel compelled to ditch the paper as soon as possible. I don't even like it being there during the trip home. This has always bugged me. I would be all for instigating a change if there was a community friendly way to do it.

So Irritating

Despite what amounts to cautionary advice from my buddy Seamus, I went ahead and took a candidate matching poll. My love matches are, inexplicably, Mike Gravel, John McCain and Dennis Kucinich. Hunh?

Okay, I admit there was a time in my young democratic socialist days when I defended the boy genius of Wherever, Ohio. But who is Mike Gravel? Why can't I be matched to someone cute, like Edwards or Obama? Or at least Richardson? He's not really my type, but he has his Bill-Clinton-swaggering-excesses way about him. I'd have a beer, act a little goofy. John McCain? I once admitted to a friend of my mom's, a veteran of the Korean War, that my boyfriend had made me a quilt for Christmas, and I got 45-minutes of gay-bashing, Army recruitment love advice. I sort of imagine that sort of conversation with McCain, even though I admire his fake evenkeeledness. So much what you think Kurtz might be if he came out of the jungle.

Fortunately, I was able to get what I wanted over at Select Smart (yeah, I don't know what it is either). Phew. My top three are DK, Barack and someone named Alan Auguston, whose campaign has already been suspended. That sounds about right for my success rate, candidate-wise.

Bigs Up to The JC

And by that, I mean Jed Caesar. My cousin-in-law is one of the artists in the Whitney Biennial 2008 (page 4). Boo yah. And Kate has not one but two shows next year, in LA and NYC. Their shows overlap in New York in May. See you there!!

Escalating Stupidity

I was thinking the other day that I hadn't posted about inanities of Berkeley lately. I don't have to go there very often now that L doesn't go to Broccoli Montessori. I can't even bear to read the Berkeley Parents Network Advice newsletters because they are all so long and redundant (does every new mother need to despair that her 3 week old nurses too much/little, poops too much/little, sleeps too much/little? and can't every new mother just read the voluminous back issues for their answer?).

That leaves only the mainstream local press as a source of Berkeley news, and I don't see much of that. Oh, except for the tree sitters. Here's the latest. Several folks were arrested yesterday. According to a man named "Ayr" (it took me a sec to get that too):

"We went to deliver sage and tobacco and water to the tree-sitters, because we had heard earlier that (police) were denying them food and water and threatening people helping them with arrest," Ayr said. "We got the stuff up to them and we were doing some chants and songs when one of the tree-sitters came down and started cutting the fence."

Ayr said the group included Native Americans who believe that the grove was a burial ground for Ohlone Indians. UC anthropologists have said there is no evidence that is true.

I don't think we need an anthropologist to tell us how the grove grows, if I can paraphrase. Remember:

All but a few of the trees were planted by the university after the stadium was built in 1923.

This is all such a tremendous waste of trust fund dollars. These tree sitters could be planning their next Burning Man project if they weren't busy spilling buckets of urine and feces all other eachother. Or (*snap*) maybe that's IT! This will be great at Burning Man! I mean it's no suicide, but it could really work! (whisper whisper) They've already spilled buckets of urine and feces on eachother at Burning Man? Hmmm. Okay, back to Ye Olde Oak Grove. . .

Chasing My Own Tail

Today I googled “Problem Focusing On Work” and “Procrastination” while at work, trying to avoid starting something. Not anything specific. I just have a really hard time starting whatever pile of crap is next on my desk to be dealt with. Now that I have avoided work by googling these terms, and then blogging about it, what do I do next? Are there any experts out there who can recommend what I should next do to avoid work?

Missed Opportunities

One thing about me that has annoyed Mr. Scobie since we first met is my willingness to form an opinion about something before I have ever read or seen it. I made it through college by learning about many books in the following fashion:

1. Develop a theory about a book based on its cover, back cover, first chapter or overheard conversation in the "C" Shop.

Note: I also read whole books, but since the UofC is a Great Books school, many of those books were totally opaque and impossible (for me) to comprehend. Thus my opinion of the book or author is still based on this applied technique.

2. Confidently extol this theory to Mr. Scob (after the first week of college he was the only one who had the patience to endure my "theories").

3. Have "theory" eviscerated by listener, who cites the actual content of said book or movie as "evidence" that I am mistaken.

4. Revise "theory" based on new "evidence" and test on new listener.

5. Repeat 3 - 5.

By the time an exam rolled around, I'd have a firm grasp of the subject matter. The downside, of course, is that while I may now remark that something is "Aristotelean" or "Kantian" or "straight out of Kierkegaard", I'm in the right universe but I can't get more specific than that.

This tendency of mine is a time saver, money saver, and a shield to struggling with anything that might be intellectually or emotionally challenging. For example, in 1996, a bunch of kids wanted to see Crash, the creepy Cronenberg movie, which was basically a snuff movie. I refused to go see it on the basis that the movie would be sensational, violent and upsetting to me. B confronted me with the fact that I knew nothing more than what had been written in the NY Times about it. I said, "I don't need to see a movie to have an opinion about it." I have, to the annoyance of many, stood by that proposition (and likely will forever).

B saw the movie, hated it and has declined to confront me so directly about my cultural . . . prejudices? foresight? since that time.

Why am I going on about this? Because it turns out that instead of seeing this an annoying quirk of my personality, he should have recognized it as a money making opportunity! There is a new book out called How To Talk About Books You Haven't Read, which I DID NOT WRITE, to my consternation. (Here's a review)

Worse, I don't even have an opinion of this book yet.

My Heart Swells

I gotta get my brag on.

This morning at breakfast, Li told us this: "There are some kids at my school who used to live in England. There was a mean king who would not let them hold meetings, so they moved to Holland. Then they came here on The Mayflower. They are called Pilgrims." (My son did not verbally link to Wikipedia. I added that so that you can check the fuzzy details of your memory against what is ostensibly the history of the Pilgrims).

*sigh* He is so cute.

Other Things from Montgomery That I Miss

Whew! Our long national nightmare is over. T&A Lady is back in the saddle, tackling offensive Halloween costumes and offensive social movements, all in a day's work. Check it out!

I also remembered some other excellent things about Ms. Kirkpatrick last night. She wore a seersucker suit almost every day, even though she was in a wheelchair, and she and her husband were accomplished recorder players. Yeah, recorders, the plastic wind instrument you briefly learned in fourth grade. Only hers weren't plastic.

Goodbye, Ms. Kirkpatrick

For no discernible reason, I wandered over to the Montgomery Advertiser just now, and it made my wonder about an old friend. Literally, an old friend and probably Liam's oldest. By sad coincidence, it turns out that Margaret Blake Kirkpatrick died on October 22. She was 94 years old. Ms. Kirkpatrick, or Mahh-gret, as I thought of her, was our neighbor in Montgomery. She was one of the best people I ever met. She was crazy about Li, and would always say, "Ewwwww, let me squeeze that beautiful little baby boy. I do love little boys, you know. I had two of my own. I always wished I'd had a little girl, too." She was funny, smart, talkative, an active reader, an integrationist, anti-homophobic ("I joined the Episcopalian Church for their toleration. Why would we exclude homasexuals?") and very supportive. "You still nursin' that little baby? Good for you!"

Once, she was taking a class at ASU, an all-black college, and some Klan members who had learned she was there, pulled the fire alarm and then ambushed her and a black student. Photos of her running out of the school were published in the newspaper, along with the "news" of her "race mixing", in an effort to embarrass her. It didn't work. When a racist neighbor of hers learned that she was helping a young black woman to get a teaching degree, he and some other men from some White "Christian" group sprayed water from high powered hoses into her windows while the young woman was visiting. Her home was vandalized repeatedly. Margaret's response to all this was, and this is just how they treat the white people. She knew that her views exposed her to very little danger compared to the dangers faced by Blacks who were fighting to end segregation and racism in Alabama.

We were crazy about her. It's silly that her passing made me cry, because she had lived such a full life. We last saw her in October 2005, when we went down to Montgomery for something else. She had moved into a nursing home, and missed being able to email (her computer had been stolen by someone else's guest) but was reading voraciously. She gave L an American flag she had, because, she said, she wasn't feeling particularly like she wanted it, what with things being the way they were. I have missed her since we moved, and will miss her more knowing that she's gone.

Here's her obituary:

Margaret Blake Kirkpatrick Departed this life October 22nd in Montgomery, Alabama. She loved friends and family, lifelong learning, educating the young, playing music and enjoying humor. She adored a good joke -even a clean one if it was smart. Born June 15, 1913 in Randolph County, Alabama, the youngest of three daughters, to Judge Stell Blake and Exa Sticklen Blake. At a young age, her parents fell on hard times, forcing Margaret and her mother to live with her sister Martha and brother-in-law Charles ''Doc'' Thigpen in Tuscumbia, Alabama. Margaret made many friends in North Alabama, becoming especially close to her niece Martha Thigpen McLemore and cousin (Senator) Howell Heflin. She received her Teacher's Certificate from Florence State Teachers College in 1933 and took her first job in Jones, Alabama. Married to Robert F Kirkpatrick in 1934, she and Kirk lived thereafter in Montgomery, and raised two sons, Robert F. Kirkpatrick, Jr. and John B. Kirkpatrick. Back to school in 1952, she earned her Bachelor's with a double major in English and Education in 1955 from Huntingdon College, followed by her Masters in Education from Auburn University in 1958. She taught fourth and fifth grade at Bear School, retiring in 1976. Never one to give up learning, she studied Jungian analysis in Switzerland, became Mentor for the Education for Ministry program at Church of the Ascension, and began the adult education program at Huntingdon College. For the latter she was awarded an Honorary Doctorate by Huntingdon in 2001.

Oh, And

I managed to write something over at The Union Lawyer today, in case you are catatonically bored and in need of some digression.

Catholic humor

I guess it shouldn't come as any surprise that it exists. What else is Benny Hill if not Catholic humor? Or at least little c catholic. Anyway, enjoy:



Thanks to the good deacon of Our Lady of Guadalupe for this.