My preschool daughter came home from daycare one day singing a song about the colors in Spanish. When she sang that "Roh-Joe" means red, I told her that it was actually pronounced "Roh-Hoe". She refused to believe me. I pointed out that I minored in Spanish in college and I'd even spent time in Spain. Despite my street cred, she went on singing "Roh-Joe" at the top of her lungs.
In this day and age, having the facts simply isn't enough to make people believe you. Leonard Pitts of the Miami Herald recently posted a commentary about this same subject. As proof, he pointed to the people who refuse to believe that President Obama is a practicing Christian who was born in Hawaii.
I agree with Pitts that it's frustrating when you're not believed, but I'm firmly entrenched in the camp of the overly cautious.
I wouldn't trust any "fact" from Rush Limbaugh, so how can I criticize those who question Leonard Pitts? Trusting someone's declaration that "this is a fact" is like leaving the house unlocked. It's probably safe but if something goes wrong then people see you as a fool, not a victim.
Trust is NOT to be given lightly these days. It's another innocence stolen by those who wrap lies in authentic-looking packages.
The sad part is that this means people are free to choose what "facts" they believe. The same daughter who refused to believe me when I said "Roh-Hoe" was red? I once told her that she had left and right socks, and if you got them mixed up then you couldn't dance. For months afterward she'd get up in the morning, put on her socks and do a quick happy dance to make sure her socks were on the right feet.
Little did I know at the time, but that's the future of our society.
See Pitts' story.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Pet Names
Someone was talking about pet names, and I told them how we used to make up names for each other that were so obscene we could only say the initials in public. I'd wait for the right moment to whisper "FOFC" in a friend's ear -- the goal being to make them break out in laughter at the most inappropriate time.
They didn't get it at all. I guess you had to be there.
They asked for the best and worst pet names I'd ever heard. I voted for "Precious" as long as it was said in a creepy, long drawn-out hiss. In both categories.
They didn't get it. I had to explain that love and laughter go hand in hand, and pet names are great examples of this. "Precious" is awful but at the same time it makes me laugh hysterically. I'm sure the first person to be called "baby cakes" felt the same way.
They sort of understood that, but I doubt that anyone went home and called their baby-cakes "precious". My talents are clearly unappreciated.
They didn't get it at all. I guess you had to be there.
They asked for the best and worst pet names I'd ever heard. I voted for "Precious" as long as it was said in a creepy, long drawn-out hiss. In both categories.
They didn't get it. I had to explain that love and laughter go hand in hand, and pet names are great examples of this. "Precious" is awful but at the same time it makes me laugh hysterically. I'm sure the first person to be called "baby cakes" felt the same way.
They sort of understood that, but I doubt that anyone went home and called their baby-cakes "precious". My talents are clearly unappreciated.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
A Hero in My Eyes
I was at a City Council meeting in December and the city gave commendations to citizens who had pulled a victim from a hotel hot tub and administered CPR until the medics arrived. They were unable to revive the victim, and a commendation was also given to the minister who drove the man's wife and family across the state and back to their home.
Those are definitely kind and thoughtful actions. But in my eyes, they're not the actions of a true hero.
A true hero is the person with the guts to walk up to a stranger in a hot tub and say, "Excuse me, sir? You're not looking so good. You need to get out of there NOW."
My hero is the cranky neighbor lady who's always watching the street and yelling at the kids who play there. Thanks to her, I'll never have to administer CPR to a child who's been run down in front of my house.
My husband was at a bank one time when it was robbed. He was standing in the corner of an office and he slowly stepped behind the door. He didn't want to risk moving into the doorway and startling the robber. If the robber were to walk into the room and threaten the people inside, however, my husband was in a strategic position.
The robber didn't walk into the room and afterwards my husband joked about how he had "hid" during the big robbery. Needless to say, he didn't get any special commendations for bravery.
Our greatest heroes aren't the ones who get medals and commendations, though. Instead they're frequently described with words like loudmouth, spoilsport, and busybody.
I'd like to think that their heroic traits are recognized by those around them. These are the people we turn to when we need a trusted confidente to tell us what is right and what is wrong in our lives. They're opinionated, and they speak the unvarnished truth plainly and straight up.
I tip my hat to all the unsung heroes out there with the courage to step in and avert the small, daily crises that generate the city commendations. You have my gratitude.
Those are definitely kind and thoughtful actions. But in my eyes, they're not the actions of a true hero.
A true hero is the person with the guts to walk up to a stranger in a hot tub and say, "Excuse me, sir? You're not looking so good. You need to get out of there NOW."
My hero is the cranky neighbor lady who's always watching the street and yelling at the kids who play there. Thanks to her, I'll never have to administer CPR to a child who's been run down in front of my house.
My husband was at a bank one time when it was robbed. He was standing in the corner of an office and he slowly stepped behind the door. He didn't want to risk moving into the doorway and startling the robber. If the robber were to walk into the room and threaten the people inside, however, my husband was in a strategic position.
The robber didn't walk into the room and afterwards my husband joked about how he had "hid" during the big robbery. Needless to say, he didn't get any special commendations for bravery.
Our greatest heroes aren't the ones who get medals and commendations, though. Instead they're frequently described with words like loudmouth, spoilsport, and busybody.
I'd like to think that their heroic traits are recognized by those around them. These are the people we turn to when we need a trusted confidente to tell us what is right and what is wrong in our lives. They're opinionated, and they speak the unvarnished truth plainly and straight up.
I tip my hat to all the unsung heroes out there with the courage to step in and avert the small, daily crises that generate the city commendations. You have my gratitude.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Why get a checking account?
My 13-year-old has no interest in opening a checking account now that she's old enough. I'm forcing her to do it, though. It's my gift to her.
Why does Elizabeth need a checking account? It's safer than stashing her money in the bedroom under her dolphin poster. The money you put in a bank is insured up to $100,000. It earns interest there, too. Bank one, dolphin zero.
Money in a checking account is traceable. Your bank can tell your current balance without ruffling through a wad of bills. Your spending is also traced and appears on your statement, so you know where your money goes. It makes budgeting easier. If your purse gets stolen, you can cancel the debit card or close the account. If you leave your purse in the public bathroom (like your sister), your cash will be gone but your checking funds will remain secure.
There are advantages to that account as you grow, too. A checking account is your first step to building a credit history. The longer it's been open and active without overdrafts, the easier you'll find it to get that first credit card. Most companies like to pay employees using direct deposit to their checking account. And many landlords won't rent to someone without a checking account -- they're not a good risk.
Elizabeth, you spend half your school time on the computer anyway. You'll love the ability to log into your account online and see your transaction balance and spending history. Even more, you'll like seeing those interest payments.
So let's get that account opened for you this month. Happy shopping!
Why does Elizabeth need a checking account? It's safer than stashing her money in the bedroom under her dolphin poster. The money you put in a bank is insured up to $100,000. It earns interest there, too. Bank one, dolphin zero.
Money in a checking account is traceable. Your bank can tell your current balance without ruffling through a wad of bills. Your spending is also traced and appears on your statement, so you know where your money goes. It makes budgeting easier. If your purse gets stolen, you can cancel the debit card or close the account. If you leave your purse in the public bathroom (like your sister), your cash will be gone but your checking funds will remain secure.
There are advantages to that account as you grow, too. A checking account is your first step to building a credit history. The longer it's been open and active without overdrafts, the easier you'll find it to get that first credit card. Most companies like to pay employees using direct deposit to their checking account. And many landlords won't rent to someone without a checking account -- they're not a good risk.
Elizabeth, you spend half your school time on the computer anyway. You'll love the ability to log into your account online and see your transaction balance and spending history. Even more, you'll like seeing those interest payments.
So let's get that account opened for you this month. Happy shopping!
Monday, November 30, 2009
Holidays, with Kids
What is life like when you're entering the holidays with two teenage daughters and a 9-year-old son? Allow me to fill you in.
First off, the two daughters wanted to go shopping at 5:30 am on Black Friday. They're not big shoppers, but there's a socialization/tradition aspect to getting up early that morning and visiting the stores. The two girls are always amazed at the people out and about at 6 am on Black Friday, too. It's fun people-watching.
Of course, by 9 am the "fun" has worn off. One of my daughters wanted me to take her to see "New Moon" as soon as the theater opened and the other spent two hours at the bookstore. By 1 pm when we left the mall, my two girls were satisfied and I was exhausted.
Then there's the 9-year-old son. This past Thanksgiving holiday was spent nagging him. His trading cards are spread all over my living room floor, sorted in piles across the room. And all his underwear is missing. His dad made him clean his room the other weekend, and I strongly suspect he threw all his dirty clothes into his closet along with everything else on the floor in his room. Two weeks later he's scratching his head and asking me what happened to all his socks, underclothes, and pajamas.
Children LIVE to challenge their parents' sanity.
First off, the two daughters wanted to go shopping at 5:30 am on Black Friday. They're not big shoppers, but there's a socialization/tradition aspect to getting up early that morning and visiting the stores. The two girls are always amazed at the people out and about at 6 am on Black Friday, too. It's fun people-watching.
Of course, by 9 am the "fun" has worn off. One of my daughters wanted me to take her to see "New Moon" as soon as the theater opened and the other spent two hours at the bookstore. By 1 pm when we left the mall, my two girls were satisfied and I was exhausted.
Then there's the 9-year-old son. This past Thanksgiving holiday was spent nagging him. His trading cards are spread all over my living room floor, sorted in piles across the room. And all his underwear is missing. His dad made him clean his room the other weekend, and I strongly suspect he threw all his dirty clothes into his closet along with everything else on the floor in his room. Two weeks later he's scratching his head and asking me what happened to all his socks, underclothes, and pajamas.
Children LIVE to challenge their parents' sanity.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Morality Tales
I read an old “Herotica” book from the library last week. The editor of the book is (was?) a feminist who had protests staged against her when she did a presentation at the U of M. She encouraged women to read pornography and claimed we’d never have true equality until women owned up to their sexuality. Her famous quote was “I’ve yet to have a man come up to me after class and admit he didn’t know where his penis was, much less how to use it.”
Fifteen years doesn’t seem like that much time, but most of the “pornographic” acts in this book are pretty mainstream in Harlequin Blaze books today and dismissed as mere "Chick Lit". It’s interesting to see how quickly the population’s view on morality can change when someone puts a different marketing spin on the topic. Makes you question how deeply held those “morals” really are – or how powerful the advertising industry is.
Fifteen years doesn’t seem like that much time, but most of the “pornographic” acts in this book are pretty mainstream in Harlequin Blaze books today and dismissed as mere "Chick Lit". It’s interesting to see how quickly the population’s view on morality can change when someone puts a different marketing spin on the topic. Makes you question how deeply held those “morals” really are – or how powerful the advertising industry is.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Vacation Horror Stories
We're back from our vacation.
We had a thunderstorm and the power went out right as we were preparing to leave. Couldn't print our tickets... missed our flight out... the final touch was the streaker (more of a naked stroller, actually) sauntering through the airport baggage claim.
Everyone has vacation horror stories, though. The real test is how you react. My family passed the quiz, I guess. My 13-year-old whipped out her cell phone and started texting her friends "naked dude here!" (At least she didn't take photos.) For the rest of the trip whenever the kids got bored my husband would shout "Look, another naked guy!" We got a LOT of strange looks last week, but the spirit never went out of our vacation.
In Philadelphia, I saw a Hispanic family proudly posing in front of the Liberty Bell holding a newspaper that read, "Senate confirms Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court". We found out our tour of Independence Hall was cancelled because the First Family was taking the tour instead. I felt like we were truly standing in the footsteps of history. Then my 9-year-old turned to me and asked, "Where, exactly, was 'National Treasure' filmed?" Great moments in history, through my son's eyes...
We went on a ghost tour and I told my family afterwards about the ghost tour director who died in a horrific tour trolley accident but returns to lead the tours when the living directors don't arrive in time... if our director had been more creepy looking and less college prep, I'm sure our kids would never have gotten to sleep that night!
Fun fact: Cape Code is far fuller of Italians than New York these days. Little Italy is about one block in NYC, while even the McDonalds near the Cape sold cannoli. I was so excited to see an old guy in Boston who looked like Fred's dad, only to later realize that ALL the old guys in Boston looked like Fred's dad. Gotta love that Italian schnozzola.
Anyway, our trip through Philadelphia, NYC, and Boston was a blast. I'm sure the lack of stress and time spent studying routes on a map made our vacation that much more pleasurable. We wanted to bless our GPS, but we were afraid the holy water would harm it. I recommend our trip, with a special shout out to the Lucerne Hotel in NYC. The people there defined class!
We had a thunderstorm and the power went out right as we were preparing to leave. Couldn't print our tickets... missed our flight out... the final touch was the streaker (more of a naked stroller, actually) sauntering through the airport baggage claim.
Everyone has vacation horror stories, though. The real test is how you react. My family passed the quiz, I guess. My 13-year-old whipped out her cell phone and started texting her friends "naked dude here!" (At least she didn't take photos.) For the rest of the trip whenever the kids got bored my husband would shout "Look, another naked guy!" We got a LOT of strange looks last week, but the spirit never went out of our vacation.
In Philadelphia, I saw a Hispanic family proudly posing in front of the Liberty Bell holding a newspaper that read, "Senate confirms Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court". We found out our tour of Independence Hall was cancelled because the First Family was taking the tour instead. I felt like we were truly standing in the footsteps of history. Then my 9-year-old turned to me and asked, "Where, exactly, was 'National Treasure' filmed?" Great moments in history, through my son's eyes...
We went on a ghost tour and I told my family afterwards about the ghost tour director who died in a horrific tour trolley accident but returns to lead the tours when the living directors don't arrive in time... if our director had been more creepy looking and less college prep, I'm sure our kids would never have gotten to sleep that night!
Fun fact: Cape Code is far fuller of Italians than New York these days. Little Italy is about one block in NYC, while even the McDonalds near the Cape sold cannoli. I was so excited to see an old guy in Boston who looked like Fred's dad, only to later realize that ALL the old guys in Boston looked like Fred's dad. Gotta love that Italian schnozzola.
Anyway, our trip through Philadelphia, NYC, and Boston was a blast. I'm sure the lack of stress and time spent studying routes on a map made our vacation that much more pleasurable. We wanted to bless our GPS, but we were afraid the holy water would harm it. I recommend our trip, with a special shout out to the Lucerne Hotel in NYC. The people there defined class!
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