Cape Karen
T'was the night of the speech, and all through the House, not a Representative was stirring, nor even a grouch.
The speech-writer's were ready, their words were all written, and Mr. Bush spent the day grooming like a kitten.
He licked all his wounds, and he unfurled his tail, and now he's prepared to begin "The Big Wail."
He's been practicing and practicing, so as not to stumble; he knows he sounds 'cocky,' so, he's going to try to sound humble.
But ~ that hasn't gone well; the mirror is no liar ~ and to pull that act off, he knows he'll have to reach much higher.
So, he'll reach for the moon, and he'll reach for the stars, and the next thing you know ~ we'll be going to Mars!
He knows things down here, in the good old USA, are so horribly bad ~ in every possible way ~
that he needs to 'distract us' to regain our trust ~ to figure out a way to melt the hard crust ~
that has formed over his image, and turned it to rust.
Of course we're all cynical, suspicious and wary . . . we've heard it all before . . . and things are getting waaaay too scary!
Can you telI I am DREADING the State of the Union speech tonight? Oh - I'll listen! Painful as it will be to do so. It would be a sin not to, with this character at the helm. We'd better all listen real well, and hope that something remotely honest and hopeful will be read off the pages that are put before him.
It isn't just the content of those pages that is worrisome, it's the way he reads them that drives me insane.The stumbling and bumbling over words is one thing, but the attitude ! He reminds me of a teenager going through puberty; sullen, defensive and downright annoying. ("But, Mommmmmm . . ." I wonder if his room is a mess, too?)
I'll be especially listening to how he is going to help those whose lives were destroyed by hurricane Katrina, and to how he plans to deal with global warming and our increasingly polluted environment. ("Environment" is evidently a hard word for him to pronounce; he's yet to mention it in any speech. But "war" and "spend" are easy words to pronounce.)
Well, it's time to go listen to our fearless leader. . . here are some words to ponder, from an old Bob Dylan song, that feel appropriate to me tonight:
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Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good?
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could?
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.
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I have purposely not blogged about the now-controversial book that Oprah selected for her book club: "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. I read the book last September, and I had concerns and questions about the veracity of his story - I even wrote to the Oprah Show and addressed my concerns to them recently - but, because I had no way to challenge his story on my own, I remained silent, here. However, now that there is such public controversy over Frey's memoir, thanks to The Smoking Gun and their challenges to him, I feel compelled to blog about my 'take' on the whole matter, before he and his publishers air today on The Oprah Show.
I come from the womb of an alcoholic mother. I never knew her sober. My father was an alcoholic, as became my older sister, and as was almost every adult I knew growing up. Because of this history, I carefully chose a non-drinker to marry. However, within three months of marriage, I realized I had inadvertantly married an alcoholic. (He began drinking when he entered the Navy the year we got married, and quickly spiraled right into the disease. O' joy. We divorced 21 years later and he has since died. Long story.)
Therefore, I would say that because of my own lifelong experiences with those afflicted with alcoholism, and my many years of Al-Anon attendance, I have earned my own honorary Doctorate degree in addiction. (I did earn a real B. A. degree in Human Behavior, but my 'doctorate' would have to be in the field of addictions.)
Therefore, when I read Frey's book, I was immediately suspicious about the truth behind some of his storylines. He claims to have left a treatment center and 'white-knuckled' his way into thirteen years of sobriety, using only will power and determination. No namby-pamby support groups for him. Nope. He's tough, he's determined, he's Superman ~ and he's sober. But, James, I hate to tell you this, honey ~ there's more to "recovery" than just staying sober.
Let's face it, there are lots of psychologically ill people running around sober today. For addicts, giving up their drug of choice - whether it is nicotine, alcohol, cocaine, coca-cola, potato chips, or whatever. . . that is just the first step onto a healthy life-path; for sure it's the most important step to take - but, there are still many more steps along the way that an addictive personality-type needs to take in order to become their best and healthiest self.
Learning how to be scrupulously honest would have been a good second step for Mr. Frey.
James may be sober, but he is still an ego-driven, pathological personality, and therefore, he is still prone to embellish and exaggerate the truth for absolutely no good reason whatsoever. It isn't because he's a writer that he weaves fiction into a "memoir," (as he claims all memoir writer's have done) and it isn't because he was in a blackout most of his life, and had to make some stuff up because he 'forgot,' either; it's because he has never addressed his habitual, pathological lying problem. If you have ever known a pathological liar, you'll know what I mean. It's just mind-boggling to try and have a relationship with such a person. The lies they tell are so ridiculous, so big and so obvious, that you are left scratching your head and wondering if you aren't the one going crazy. (Yes, I dated one once, and it was utterly, bafflingly amazing; I really should write my memoirs ~ but, trust me, no one would ever believe my life story.)
I am looking forward to listening again, (I watched the Larry King interview) to what James has to say about his embellishments and his taking some 'literary license' with his memoir. And, damn ~ I liked the guy! (he's what I'm most familiar with. . . I've always loved alcoholics; those who are sober and working a program, or getting professional help to grow and become better people. . . but I know better than to always believe what they say if they are not working on their problem.) So, I'm really hoping, that in this interview on Oprah's show today, he'll step off the monotonous treadmill of saying, over and over again, "I'm an alcoholic and drug addict, and I stand by the 'essence' of my story " (ho-hum ~ yawn) and that he'll be courageous enough to admit that he bold-faced lied.
It would be so exciting and refreshing if he would just say something like:
"I exaggerated and embellished my story, and YES, I even LIED. Why? Because I am one sick, ego-driven, thirteen-year sober, white-knuckled mutha-f- - -a, who can no longer distinquish the truth from a lie. "
But ~ that would be asking for a truth that could set him free. . . and, let's be honest; all this 'hoop-la-la' and publicity is helping him sell more books.
But, go on James ~ I'll be listening . . . .
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Well, I listened, and it was downright embarrassing how hard it was for James to answer a direct question with a direct answer. He just couldn't seem to do it. "Ummmm, errrr, but, yah-but. . ." And an angry Oprah was magnificent at attempting to pry some direct honesty out of him - sadly, without much success. I truly do hope that he will seek professional help for his problem with telling the truth, following this public humiliation - but, I seriously doubt he will.
Remember this one? "I-did-not-have-sexual-intercourse-with-that-woman." Well, I guess that was partly true - but, he left out the whole truth, didn't he? It's the same thing. . . .selective memory and word games = lies! And, that half-truth came from the adult child of an alcoholic. (I also find it quite interesting that our current President is also a 'dry drunk' ~ defined as, "one who stopped drinking when it became a problem ~ but never entered into counseling or a treatment program." See his white knuckles . . . hear his yah-but's. )
Yup. I think we are all getting really tired of being bombarded with untruthes everyday; ethics are out of style, and dishonesty is lurking everywhere. One has to be so discriminating and cautious as to how much of what is read and heard is actually to be believed. These days, determining what is true and what is not is like trying to catch speeding bullets ~ without getting shot.
But, there are some clues: when you hear "ummm's, errrr's and yah-but's," and observe things like stammering and stumbling over words; and if he or she becomes overly-defensive and self-excusatory when their actions are called into question, then quick ~ cover your ears ~ you're probably listening to some bold-face lies. (You can practice doing this next Tuesday night on all the primetime television stations.)
As far as ferreting the truth out of the written word ~ well, I guess we'll just have to go to The Smoking Gun folks and have them do some research.
Frank and I just returned from our January trek down to Florida. And again, it was too cold for sunbathing or doing much enjoyable beach walking. The week Frank chooses to vacation each year always seems to be the one week when Florida has it's little 'cold snap.' I know . . . it's January, and those native Floridians' live for the cooler temperatures~ but this was just plain nuts for us!
The day we arrived it was around 65º and windy. No problem! I like the 60's - after all, I come from the 60's generation, and now I have entered them as a chronological age. So, yup, the 60's are good - but not when the wind is blowing in gusts up to 40 mph, and the flying beach sand is scraping the flesh off your body as you attempt to take a walk by the ocean! I braved the wind and used my beach towel as a shield - I looked a bit strange, but at least it saved my skin from getting torn off. Hardier souls were walking along in bathing suits. (I guess they were trying to pretend that it wasn't cold, and that the sand wasn't biting?)
We stayed in a wonderful beachfront resort complex, built by Fairfield and called, "Ocean Walk" (compliment's of the company where Frank works.) It had a fully equipped spa, a complete gym and exercise room, a fancy-dancy-expensive logo-items shop, an indoor putting green, two big children's activity rooms, an adult computer room, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, an outdoor rafting pool, lots of interesting outdoor walkway shops, many restaurants, and even a big multiple movie theater. It was the perfect setting for having a nice vacation, even if you never left the property.
I especially loved going to a restaurant called, "Johnny Rockets" and enjoying the 60's ambiance; complete with the little booth-side juke boxes, like they had in our favorite teenage hang-out called, "Bill and Thelma's" in the early 1960's, the old-fashioned silver napkin holders, and our oldie's songs playing loudly in the background. One night, they lowered the lights and the waitress and the manager stopped everything and 'flash danced' to the music. 
It was a fun place ~ with great 'casual' food.
But, without much sunshine and warm temperatures, it was hard to enjoy a lot of it. Walking the outdoor complex became an exercise in ocean wind resistance, and required bundling-up in warm clothing. All those shorts and T-shirts stayed packed the entire week. I should have brought along my mink jacket; it would have been the perfect choice for the weather. Now that we are home again, in 50º rainy, gloomy weather - it's in the 80's down there, and it will be hot and sunny this whole week. (Damn!)
Fortunately, it didn't rain, and so Frank was able to play golf; 
but, most of all it was a successful vacation because I was able to accomplish my goal of leaving Daytona Beach (not my favorite beach in the world) and drive south to visit with friends I hadn't seen in over ten years.
The cool weather couldn't put a damper on the warm visits with my friends of the heart and soul!
I was able to quickly zoom down to the Palm Beach area and spend a little time with Louise and Carol - and to briefly visit with Louise's mom; one of my 'surrogate' moms of years gone by, Mary - who is now 89 years young! Louise's handsome son, Tristan, came along, too. We all went to dinner at a restaurant called "Jettys," right on the harbor, with the Jupiter Beach lighthouse in the background. It was a wonderful meal, and we had a great view ~ even if we did sit on the outdoor patio, and shivered a bit under their heat lamps. Who cared?!
We were together for the first time in forever, and it was wonderful!
Next, it was back on the highway to meet-up with my friend, Carol, who lives in Pompano Beach. We met half-way at an iHop in Delray Beach and, in-between many cups of coffee, and while choking down our breakfast, we talked ourselves blue in the face, non-stop, for three hours. It was as if we had been together just yesterday. Nope ~ time does not change friendships of the heart one bit!
Everyone looked wonderful - we are all aging surprisingly well in spite of cancer scares, Bell's Palsy and other medical challenges that come with growing older. Mary is frail, but still Mary! We 'youngsters' do have few more lines and wrinkles here and there - and some of those damn sun spots on the backs of our living-at-the-seashore-all-our-lives hands. We might walk just a tiny bit slower, and we do need our glasses to read the menu ~ but, all in all, we are the same 'fiesty' gals we always were! No canes, hearing aids or walkers. . . yet! And, of course, no gray hairs for us! (We all know how to open a bottle of hair dye and/or use a frosting cap.)
I know it won't be another ten years between visits- we don't have the luxury of time to let the years slip by so easily anymore. Life happens while we wait, and so waiting just isn't an option!
Gals, I'll see you again soon and, next time, for more than just a few hours. I'll be 'doing Florida' in the months of March or April, when it's more apt to be warm and sunny ~ but never again in January!
Brrrrrrrr!
I'm not chicken. . . but, in light of the news coming out of Turkey today, I think I will give up eating chicken, or any potentially fowled fowl. The poverty-ridden areas overseas, where raising chickens is done daily in family coops and sold in the open marketplace, feathers and all, is where we are seeing the Avian bird flu erupting in humans.
When children go out to play with the severed heads of infected chickens, left festering in their dirt-covered yards ~ yup ~ they're apt to get sick and die. But, I don't see any of the neighborhood children here playing with severed chicken heads today, so ~ not to worry!
With the rapid connections these days, between such marketplaces and our own, I'm not about to take any chances. The FDA will now be testing 11 out of every 35,000 - 55,000 chickens slaughtered in our US chicken factories. (Oh, good! That makes me feel much better!) Purdue, and others who sell such poultry, you're in for a major slow-down if this keeps up.
The lesson here: Don't boil, sell your chicken stock!
I don't have a lot of faith in all those groups with initials who are deemed to be the "protector's" in our society, especially after seeing the folks in New Orleans and Mississippi last summer. If this virus does eventually mutate and make the big leap from birds to humans, well, I'm afraid that in spite of the CDC and the FDA's claims that they are 'keeping tabs on it,' they might behave just as well as FEMA did, and if that's the case~ then we are all f- - -ed !
If it's not one thing, it's another. There's danger in our food, our air, the weather, over-due volcanoes, fault-ridden ocean floors, a warming planet and terrorists. Such reports are enough to make the hardiest soul shudder. I don't ever recall even having to even think about such matters when I was growing up.
I can't imagine, by the age of 15, having to deal with the twin towers hit by terrorist airplanes, a war in Iraq, hurricanes devastating entire city populations, tsunami's rolling over thousands of vacationer's and residents in Indonesia, miners dying in a rat-trap of a coal mine, and having to learn that children are dying of something called the 'bird flu' in Asia; a flu that could wipe out millions of people world-wide. . . just to mention a few of the recent, mind-blowing news events.
It makes me wonder; just what is all this negative news doing to the minds and spirits of our children? It's one thing to be an adult and have to deal with all this crap - but the kids - how do they psychologically and emotionally process all this doom and gloom?
I hope they are all happily sitting at their computers, playing Nitendo games, and having some innocent fun.
And, Mom, just in case ~ please ~ don't let them play with those discarded chicken heads!
I don't know about you, but I look forward to watching Ty Pennington hosting the show, "Extreme Make-Over: Home Edition" on Sunday nights. It's one of those all too rare shows that focus on the positive in human nature, instead of on the negative. And, gosh o' golly, it's even successful! I think the producers must have taken a page out of Oprah's book on what people really want to watch. I'm just amazed that there aren't more uplifting shows like this one available to us.
Why do the majority of today's writers and producers feel, that in order to get good ratings, they need to focus on sensationalistic and 'doom and gloom' programs, or appeal to those who didn't make it through the first grade? Obviously, this unique show's success, like the success of The Oprah Winfrey Show, have proven to them that it just isn't true.
I can recall when Oprah's show first came on - with her big hair, dark skin, and positive, life-affirming outlook, she was a true sea-change for those who were used to watching the likes of Mike Douglas, Sally Jessy Rafael and Geraldo with their 'sensationalistic' shows featuring a bunch of lame-brained idiots, yelling, screaming, having fist-fights and using bad language. Oprah changed all that, and those other daytime shows eventually gave way, for the most part, to a more dignified and positive broadcasting style ~ or they just went off the air.
I was hoping that Extreme Make-Over: Home Edition would do the same for nightly, prime-time television ~ but, then I saw the line-up of new shows that are scheduled for 2006. O' good grief! The focus is currently on the many natural disasters that could erupt on the earth in the future. Taking their cues from actual events of this past year, they're now going to capitalize on our fears and anxieties ~ like we really need that!?
Where are the good, new script-writers? Where are the up and coming producers? The talented young folks out there need to step up to the plate and begin creating better television programs ~ programs geared towards people who still have a few brain cells left; scripts that capture the essence of the good in people and that truly entertain; shows that uplift our spirits and give us hope ~ not programs that are designed to make us all more terrified and more sleepless in the USA. (We get enough of that on The Weather Channel these days.) Relying on the news, the weather, and the same-old, same-old, brainless themes is taking the easy way out. I want to see some real creativity, some interesting concepts, something different, unique and compelling!
Ty Pennington's show makes me laugh, moves me to tears, gives me hope and makes me give thanks for the goodness, mercy, caring and compassion of people helping those in need. Yes, it's just a show ~ but, at least it has real heart! Those are the kind of programs we could use more of in this day and age, not a bunch of new, negative doom and gloom programs ~ or those dumb sit-com shows that are geared to the brain capacity of an ant-eater, like "My Name is Earl." (I sat through 10 minutes of that one (duh. . .????) and quickly changed the channel.
This year, I think I'll be doing a lot more walking, learning, reading, watching good, educational television, (like Nova and other PBS shows) rug hooking and sewing.
Yup. . . in 2006 . . . I have resolved to exercise my right to turn off the damn TV . . .
(. . .as soon as "Extreme Make-Over: Home Edition" is over on Sunday nights.)