Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Back from D.C.

Spent the past two days in D.C. at a Science Writers Symposium hearing about new approaches to flu vaccines, salmonella, heparin, heart devices and pet food scares.

The group was pretty high powered, from Time to Bloomberg, and the questions intelligent and incisive. I didn't get the sense that the FDA was particularly trying to hide anything, but they didn't really make anyone feel safer about the state of the global food or medicine supply, particularly since save for the salmonella, some of these fiascos were intentionally started by people wanting to make a quick buck using cheaper materials.

The scientists played up the CSI aspects of the searches, but I was more impressed by the connections made by the doctors -- how they bore down and used everything they knew to think and re-think the problem before them. And, how far the search took them from where they had started....

Spent an hour in the part with Noodle, letting her dash around and wear herself out in piles of leaves among animal dens. Such peace watching her sniff and snort and such pleasure as she barrels towards me, hanging onto my every footstep and shrug.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

We Did It!!

The election of Barack Obama means so much to me. Eight years of despondency can't be written off easily, but getting up this morning and finding that yes, the news of the night before was true, that he was (as my husband said) still President-elect, was joyous beyond words. Four years ago, waking up to find that despite our hard work in MoveOn, Kerry had lost (although he did take PA), I wrote my children a note of heartfelt apology for our nation, who had gone so very wrong in re-electing a man who should never have been elected (and was not elected) in the first place. I assured them that the promise of democracy would continue and that next time we would work even harder to make certain there was no fraud, no Supreme Court decisions, no mistakes.

SO instead of tears we had neighbors filling the family room, hunched over electoral scoreboards, drinking, smiling, cheering and finally popping champagne courts for Barack Obama. It is, as we all know, going to be a terrifically tough time for America and for Obama, but the vision of his little girls on the front lawn of the White House and the promise that he will represent for all the other diverse children throughout the country is going to be overwhelming and inspiring. We can't repair the damage of the past years easily, but the hope this election offers is an elixir to the worlds' troubled soul.

As Tim Russert's Dad said -- What a country!!

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Obama-rama

That Obama spoke outside of Widener University in Chester, PA yesterday in the pouring rain in decidedly unstylish blue jeans, windbreaker and sneakers really moved me yesterday. I went to school until fourth grade in Chester, a black city that has been a model for urban deterioration and financial depression for years, and it has long appeared to me as one of the most neglected spots in Southeast Pennsylvania. To find it on Obama's radar at all was revitalizing and uplifting to me; a sign that he is willing to speak to lower class people who do not have financial or political clout.

Idealistic, yes. Hopeful, yes. Still a bit fearful of the outcome in Pennsylvania (no complacency), but happy about the possibilities...

Monday, October 27, 2008

Citation Nation

Got a citation today from California for S. -- he had been riding on a train and forgot his ticket or couldn't locate it. Struck again how very far he is from us and conducting his own life where he is traveling (all the way to Africa soon!)on his own path and even getting cited...
It made me want to go downstairs and bake fresh bread and chicken cacciatore and apple tarts -- all of which I did with an extra loaf for Dan for good measure. Anything to hold them at the table with me for the moment before they flew away...

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Balancing the Books

After a week of birthday celebrations, I'm ready to admit that I have moved the clock forward by one, and am certainly grateful (as always) for friends and a bit more time. While some years I've been brought low by acknowledging middle age, this year appears to be more in the new resolution mode, but the simple resolutions that I'm after to achieve this year are balance and peace. Part of it is a physical wish: there have been too many medical scares among loved ones lately; and part of it is sheerly spiritual: I want to take time to truly show myself to others in a way I have yet to do.

It isn't easy. Brought up to be appreciative of privacy and the importance of secrecy (in part because of shame and insecurity) revealing my true feelings and trying to be more open has never been easy. But part of this year's mission is to simply let go of all of analysis and try to live in the moment, not in a Zen-crazed-meditation-flower-child manner but to try to appreciate what I have and want what I own.

For several years now, we've lived on the financial edge. Having been brought up on the financial precipice, it wasn't that unusual, but as a child of the fifties and sixties, I did bring along expectations that everything simply got better as you went along. And while it did for a bit -- there were trips to Japan and England and Italy and the beach -- it didn't ever feel like it would last, and even more importantly, that it was not quite 'it'. That 'it' - the life that I saw out there, fantastical and other, was going to finally appear before me, the escalated dream of my imagination that was better than anything that had come before.

Sort of on a white horse, for you romance fans.

But what happened was that in the past weeks, as 401K's and IRAs and pension funds and every other security blanket has evaporated, is that I have begun to realize that this is 'it'. That it's quite possible that there will not be a pot at the end of the rainbow, that living with what I have is what I need to learn to do -- forever, or at least for now and for the next day and the day after that.

What divided us from the upper middle class was more money; what divided us from poor people was access to credit. And now that that has flown, we are struggling in much the way we always have, but maybe with a dollop of more sense and for me -- a bit more self-awareness.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

summertime

Now that summer is winding towards the fall with blackeyed Susans popping up everywhere and the political conventions finally at hand, I am getting the hang of working and relaxing. Better late than never?

Thursday, July 31, 2008

THURSDAY THOUGHT

War will never cease until babies begin to come into the world with larger cerebrums and smaller adrenal glands. -H.L. Mencken

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Middle Life with Drugs

The David Carr memoir disturbs me in ways I can't yet figure out completely.

While I really think that everyone owns their life story and gets to put it down anyway they wish to (even as a fictionalized memoir, sorry Oprah), I have trouble when it is a Times reporter who gets twice blessed by the Times. The pain Carr caused his family (including almost killing his twin daughters) is profound, and I think figuring all that on a couch might have been best.

It seems he wants to get paid for behaving badly and being in pain and that the Times provided him with a platform. What else is there to say but that is how the game is played these days?

Monday, July 28, 2008

Stop Being So Earnest

An order for myself...

Mad Men

Something in the culture has gone so retro: why are we supposed to feel such empathy with men behaving badly? I get that it's a combination of camp, costume and entertainment, but (aside from the the opening credits which are superb) the assumption and portrayal of women in this series made in this century bothers me no end. I don't believe the relationships, or the history -- it seems more of a wishful version of Sex and the Single Girl, with Draper as the objective.

On the other hand, the office politics are very good, particularly how The Girl (Peggy) might as well be invisible to the bosses as far as her personal life goes. Yet the point of view is so undefined that its' hard to tell which mysteries are intentional and which are simply unintentional distance.

Tony Soprano and Jimmy, where are you?

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

This blogging business

I've never been so aware of how much people construct themselves in the best possible light for common consumption as I have while recently reading a fellow traveler's blog. No details here, but it's important to note how much point of view matters when you present information; attitude can mask fact. It's also important to remember how while writing we are all forever -- in one way or the other -- crafting ourselves into characters and that when it come to divorce, mayhem, childraising etc. there is no Right Side.

Only, as Stephen Colbert might say, a kind of truthiness.

On the other hand, (take the recent Christie Brinkley fisasco) maybe sometimes there is a Right Side

Here at home, Number 2 shocked everyone at dinner on Sunday night by saying that he was amazed by genetics and fascinated how little biological material can influence so much. This is after working at the biology lab for a week and a half -- imagine how his own attitude towards science (which has been very negative) might shift by the end of the summer. (!) Even as he's recognizing the power of genes, conservative columnist David Brooks
writes how they may matter less.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Maybe...

What makes people optimistic in times of trouble?

It's been a preoccupation of mine for years -- how people in truly awful states of war or famine or sickness continue on with their lives and don't give up. Part of my personal problem with understanding the nuances of optimism has been nurture but much more has been nature: bipolar II has made me more depressed than manic and it's much easier for me to go southward than any other direction.

This weekend, however, gave me some clues about optimism. From Friday morning on, it was one of those few times in my life that I can say was honestly filled with giddy, unmediated joy. Seeing friends, sitting out on the porch on a summer evening, eating grilled kebabs and sour cherry cake, sharing tales of travels, hanging out with Noah, heading to a neighbors' surprise party, gossiping and giggling: all of it fueled me and sustained me in a way that I hadn't been for a long time.

It's not that these happy things haven't been there -- it's that I haven't been particularly receptive to them, preoccupied with my own dark thoughts.

So here's the secret: you have to be looking actively for happiness. You have to appreciate it when you find it. And you have to remember that you had it, so you can look back on it and smile.

Could I be more New Age-y and/or corny? Maybe not. But at this point, hell, I'll take it.

Happily.

Monday, July 07, 2008

How to Rebel: #1

So here comes the hookah.

Since we suburban parents haven't had enough to contend with -- pharmparties, pot smoking, etc. -- yesterday brought a request from #2 to have a bit of hookah puffing around the backyard picnic table.

After negotiating Google searches on what the health effects of this hot college past-time might be, it was fairly clear that a night bubbling tobacco was not going to pass the parental approval test.

Still, he does (as he points out) get points for honesty particularly about how he and his posse have spent several nights hookah-ing this summer. The question is how to encourage the honesty factor while simultaneously quashing the undesirable activity factor.

The best I could offer at the moment (why do kids need a decision a second before the gang arrives???) is a bit of human resource sleight of hand: My job description remains to love, feed and protect him; his remains to take risks, act out, and rebel against a sizable percentage of adult decisions.

And that so far, we both continue to ace our respective roles.

Sigh*.

Saturday, July 05, 2008

Nothing New Under the Clouds

What I've learned from my children:
1. You can be smarter than your teachers
2. Don't always say what you're thinking
3. Getting along with people involves time
4. The value of doing nothing: i.e. hanging out
5. There are no 'second string' friends -- only friends.


Something about having a table of boys hunched over scrambled eggs and Canadian bacon (is this really bacon? It doesn't look like bacon) makes me very happy. I like watching them -- gawky, slightly bristly (everyone is practicing with facial hair this summer), and smelling of too much Old Spice sports scented deodorant.

I like how they forget to take their plates to the dishwasher, stare into space, cook while checking their cellphones.
I like how they debate how to make omlettes and whether a 41-year old mom who is qualifying for the Olympics is on steroids...
I like how they shake one another's hands when they say good-bye.
I like how if you look very closely, you can see the sorts of men they might become..

Friday, May 23, 2008

New Girl Not in Town & Parenting, Con't

So...Son #1 has coughed up that his proviso that he would NEVER have a long-distance relationship was not carved in butter (or stone), that in fact, he has started (or been continuing) a 9 month connection with a young social anthropologist who is a junior at Harvard and has recently dyed her hair blue. Who, he adds, he met on a plane while on a head hunting trip for his social network. One nose piercing and no tattoos, although they have visited a tattoo convention recently.

And Son #2 failed his permit test. Irony was even clear to him: the question that felled his driving hopes for the moment was what the cops might do if they find drugs and or alcohol in the car. He answered incarceration (!), the correct answer was that they lose their license. That he got this particular answer wrong after an entire parent/child confrontation evening on Tuesday night, which was completely about parents repeating over and over again the dangers of drinking and/or drugging and driving. Poetic justice lives!

On that evening: J and I agreed as we walked down the driveway flanked by damp flowers and dripping leaves that mainly, after facing the boys and covering our own ambivalence and concern over the topic, we needed a drink.