I'm deeply amused by the people, mainly Tea Baggers, who claim that the Congress needs to go back to the Constitution and limit its activities to those powers Constitutionally allowed.
Really?
So I guess that means that Congress can't limit drug usage, because I see no authority granted by the Constitution for those august bodies to do so. That would put paid to the illegalization of drugs. Let's all go smoke a bong.
Nor can Congress call baseball players before it to grill them on steroid usage in sports. It isn't in their Powers, as enumerated by our Constitution. I always wondered why, when there are so many really serious problems in our nation they claim not to have time to put to a vote or even to read bills addressing those problems, while they do have time to delve into baseball, our national pasttime.
Witness the new START treaty, which was negotiated April 2010, yet with all the minutes they spend doing their jobs, followed by hours of campaigning, they have been so busy, they can't possibly have read the darn thing. Let me repeat: They haven't had time to read one measly treaty. Since April.
The FCC and the FTC are not mentioned in the Constitution, so let's throw them out. No regulation at all of our airways or our commerce. So what if TV and Radio become all porn all the time, or if any yahoo can start a bank and rip people off. Bernie Madoff, eat your heart out. For that matter, why do we need an Ag Department? So what if the food we eat is contaminated? Congress doesn't have the Constitutional power to regulate that.
They only have to meet once a year, according to the Constitution, so maybe their 120 days of actual work on the business of the nation is sufficient.
The Constitution also states that Congress can't prohibit slavery. You know, where it says that Congress can't prohibit the "Importation" of persons, although it can put a duty on such persons. In other words, you can't pick up a slave in a duty-free shop. African-Americans, beware. Going back to the original powers of Congress means you might be picking cotton in the near future.
These Tea Baggers are very fond of the idea of getting rid of the National Endowment for the Arts, yet that is a Constitutional authority. The framers of the Constitution specifically said that the Congress was to "promote the Progress of Sciences and useful Arts."
In fact, Congress has the authority to make laws in the exercise of these Powers, including laws governing departments or officers of the United States. Which would include the NEA, the Department of Education, the NEH and any number of departments which the Tea Baggers think aren't part of the Constitution.
One could indeed argue that, the power "to provide for the General Welfare" might possibly include education, but evidently the Tea Baggers don't think an education is important to the "General Welfare". I guess they want a populace who is totally ignorant, or am I misreading this?
Oh, and how many Post Roads has Congress built lately? I think they are falling down on the job in that respect. Unless you count a Bridge to Nowhere as a "Post Road". Maybe that's what the Bridge to Nowhere was for.
The Tea Baggers see themselves as Insurrectionists and Revolutionaries, which means that Congress has the right to raise a Militia to suppress their meetings. Wonder what the Tea Baggers would say if the National Guard broke up their demonstrations? Would they still see the need to stick to "Constitutional" powers only?
When Senator John McCain, opposed to "Don't Ask Don't Tell" after he was in favor of it, claimed that "organizing, arming and disciplining" the Armed Services was up to the generals, he evidently hadn't read the Constitution, which provides that power to the Congress.
I'll admit, I'm not a Constitutional scholar, but I can read. Unlike Christine O'Donnell who claimed to have studied the Constitution, yet didn't seem to be aware of the clauses in the Constitution which provide for the separation of church and state.
But I am an intelligent person, capable of Googling "US Constitution" and reading for myself what it says in that document. Which is more than I can say for Rep. Jim Diment, who wants every bill read aloud on the Floor of the House. I guess he's trying to hide the fact that he is illiterate and wants every bill, no matter how lengthy or arcane, turned into "Books on Tape".
The Constitution doesn't provide for electronic voting on bills, and, in fact, insists on voice vote: "votes of both Houses shall be determined by Yeas and Nays." At least that's how I read it. Oh, and they are required to record their vote for posterity, yet aren't requred to put their names on earmarks and amendments.
I am also deeply amused by the fact that members of the most presitious body in the world can throw people in jail for lying to Congress, yet they seem to not follow the same law. They stand in the Well of the House or the Pit of the Senate and lie their asses off, yet never do time.
In the original Constitution, the President was elected by the Congress, not by the Electoral College or popular vote resulting in Electoral College votes. So I guess we've been conducting our elections totally wrong all these years.
Look, you can't have it both ways. Either we indeed go back to yesteryear and adhere strictly to the Powers listed in that document...ALL of them. Or, we recognize that the beauty of our form of government is the fact that we can tweak it, amend it and generally update it to fit our current needs.
I'm for the latter, in case you couldn't tell.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Redistributing the Wealth
"Socialism is a economic and political theory advocating public or common ownership and cooperative management of the means of production and the allocation of resources." - Wikipedia
If I hear one more time that Obama is a "socialist", I think I'll puke.
I keep asking the question of some very smart people "if socialism is taking from rich people and giving to the poor, what is it called when we take from the poor and give to the rich?" Is it "redistribution of wealth" or "redistribution of poverty"? I think I have my answer.
It's called being a Conservative.
In the past decade, the number of billionaires (that's with a B) has risen. Case in point: Oprah Winfrey, who used to be the richest woman in the nation, is a paltry 137th in the recent Forbes' list of the top 400 billionaires. 137th! I remember when Forbes' used to track the top 400 millionaires. They don't do that any more because there are too darn many of them. Ah, those were the days.
If those who posit the idea that Obama is a socialist were to truly adhere to a pure capitalist creed, then perhaps we shouldn't have bailed out BP in the recent and ongoing Gulf Oil disaster. We, as pure capitalists, should have told them to sink or swim (especially the swimming part) in the Gulf. We should have said, "Taking from the poor taxpayers in this country is socialism and we are not socialists...we're capitalists. So take your lumps and pay for all the clean-up yourselves."
We are currently enjoying the lowest tax rates in our history. We have cut spending, on Obama's watch, to the lowest in our history. And yet, in spite of the fact that we have more rich people in this country than ever before, and in spite of the fact that the middle class hasn't effectively had a salary increase in 15 years, we've decided that the rich should get even richer and the middle class should pay for everything.
Witness yahoos who call themselves Senators on both sides of the political spectrum saying stupid things like "We should extend the tax cuts for the super wealthy but we have to get a hold of the national debt." Huh? How do they propose to pay for those tax cuts? With more borrowing, that's how.
Witness the bailout of the large financial institutions which began under George's watch, handing out beaucoup bucks to institutions which took huge risks, then came crying to Mama when they lost their shirts. Or, to be more accurate, when they lost other people's shirts. And yet, no limits were placed on the bonuses given to those very same managers who lost other people's shirts. That's capitalism for you.
Witness the bailout of the auto manufacturers, who ran their companies into the ground, then flew to Washington in their private jets to ask for help.
I guess it's "capitalism" if you get to keep the cash when you make profits, but "socialism" if the tax payers have to bail you out when you lose.
The argument seems to be that the tax cuts would help small business and they would start hiring again. Nope, small businesses aren't in the $250K range for the most part. Because, while their gross profits might be above $250K, they also have the ability to deduct business expenses, making their taxable income considerably less than the $250K ceiling. We generally tend to think of Mom and Pop as a "small business" but the Feds define "small business" as any business with under 50 employees. Anyone who has 50 employees could probably afford a dollar or two more in taxes, particularly since they are already getting special tax benefits for hiring new employees.
We had those same arguments during the Reagan years. They called it "Reaganomics" (or in the case of George Bush Sr, "voo doo economics") and the "trickle down" of largesse from the rich to the poor was a different form of "redistribution".
In fact, economists of every stripe pretty much agree that the "trickle down" didn't happen. Give a rich person a tax break and they'll no doubt go to Europe on vacation. Or buy a luxury yacht in Greece. Or buy more stock in AIG. Or give money to some political PAC. Or something. Not ever having been rich, I really have no experience in these matters.
But they won't hire any more people. Know how I know this? Because businesses aren't currently hiring, despite sitting on some pretty large bank accounts. They won't create jobs (except by investing in China, which results in Chinese jobs, I guess.) They won't donate more of their hard-earned cash to Habitat for Humanity or the Red Cross. They'll party hardy.
So, I'm still waiting for the intelligent debate about "socialism" when the Republicans, in charge of the House, the Senate and the White House, managed to turn a surplus into a deficit. They went to war, they handed out tax cuts like Mardi Gras beads, all without paying for any of it.
If Democrats are "tax and spend", then I guess we'll have to call Republicans "party and spend".
A "redistribution of wealth" did happen during the early 2000's...it's just which direction it went that disturbs me. If you don't like Obama, just say so...and find another, more accurate label.
If I hear one more time that Obama is a "socialist", I think I'll puke.
I keep asking the question of some very smart people "if socialism is taking from rich people and giving to the poor, what is it called when we take from the poor and give to the rich?" Is it "redistribution of wealth" or "redistribution of poverty"? I think I have my answer.
It's called being a Conservative.
In the past decade, the number of billionaires (that's with a B) has risen. Case in point: Oprah Winfrey, who used to be the richest woman in the nation, is a paltry 137th in the recent Forbes' list of the top 400 billionaires. 137th! I remember when Forbes' used to track the top 400 millionaires. They don't do that any more because there are too darn many of them. Ah, those were the days.
If those who posit the idea that Obama is a socialist were to truly adhere to a pure capitalist creed, then perhaps we shouldn't have bailed out BP in the recent and ongoing Gulf Oil disaster. We, as pure capitalists, should have told them to sink or swim (especially the swimming part) in the Gulf. We should have said, "Taking from the poor taxpayers in this country is socialism and we are not socialists...we're capitalists. So take your lumps and pay for all the clean-up yourselves."
We are currently enjoying the lowest tax rates in our history. We have cut spending, on Obama's watch, to the lowest in our history. And yet, in spite of the fact that we have more rich people in this country than ever before, and in spite of the fact that the middle class hasn't effectively had a salary increase in 15 years, we've decided that the rich should get even richer and the middle class should pay for everything.
Witness yahoos who call themselves Senators on both sides of the political spectrum saying stupid things like "We should extend the tax cuts for the super wealthy but we have to get a hold of the national debt." Huh? How do they propose to pay for those tax cuts? With more borrowing, that's how.
Witness the bailout of the large financial institutions which began under George's watch, handing out beaucoup bucks to institutions which took huge risks, then came crying to Mama when they lost their shirts. Or, to be more accurate, when they lost other people's shirts. And yet, no limits were placed on the bonuses given to those very same managers who lost other people's shirts. That's capitalism for you.
Witness the bailout of the auto manufacturers, who ran their companies into the ground, then flew to Washington in their private jets to ask for help.
I guess it's "capitalism" if you get to keep the cash when you make profits, but "socialism" if the tax payers have to bail you out when you lose.
The argument seems to be that the tax cuts would help small business and they would start hiring again. Nope, small businesses aren't in the $250K range for the most part. Because, while their gross profits might be above $250K, they also have the ability to deduct business expenses, making their taxable income considerably less than the $250K ceiling. We generally tend to think of Mom and Pop as a "small business" but the Feds define "small business" as any business with under 50 employees. Anyone who has 50 employees could probably afford a dollar or two more in taxes, particularly since they are already getting special tax benefits for hiring new employees.
We had those same arguments during the Reagan years. They called it "Reaganomics" (or in the case of George Bush Sr, "voo doo economics") and the "trickle down" of largesse from the rich to the poor was a different form of "redistribution".
In fact, economists of every stripe pretty much agree that the "trickle down" didn't happen. Give a rich person a tax break and they'll no doubt go to Europe on vacation. Or buy a luxury yacht in Greece. Or buy more stock in AIG. Or give money to some political PAC. Or something. Not ever having been rich, I really have no experience in these matters.
But they won't hire any more people. Know how I know this? Because businesses aren't currently hiring, despite sitting on some pretty large bank accounts. They won't create jobs (except by investing in China, which results in Chinese jobs, I guess.) They won't donate more of their hard-earned cash to Habitat for Humanity or the Red Cross. They'll party hardy.
So, I'm still waiting for the intelligent debate about "socialism" when the Republicans, in charge of the House, the Senate and the White House, managed to turn a surplus into a deficit. They went to war, they handed out tax cuts like Mardi Gras beads, all without paying for any of it.
If Democrats are "tax and spend", then I guess we'll have to call Republicans "party and spend".
A "redistribution of wealth" did happen during the early 2000's...it's just which direction it went that disturbs me. If you don't like Obama, just say so...and find another, more accurate label.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
September 11
On September 11, 2001, I was working for a school district in Missouri. I didn't have a TV in my office, so as soon as I heard the news, I turned on my radio. Our local radio station had Peter Jennings being rebroadcast and I remember his voice most of all.
I liked Peter Jennings...I thought him the consummate journalist, right up there with Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite. Just as I was fiddling with the dial to try to get a better signal, the second tower came down. Peter's voice described the scene and then it broke and the journalist in him gave way to his humanity. There was a dead silence on the airwaves and I thought I heard the sound of thousands of agonized voices crying in their death throes. Just my overactive imagination, but I heard thousands of bodies falling to the ground as their souls rose up to heaven.
At the time, we didn't know how many people were in the building, how many had made their escape. There were estimates of 60,000 people who worked in the two buildings. I'd been to those buildings as a tourist...been up on the observation deck of Building #1. I tried unsuccessfully to imagine that space of sky which those towers had occupied suddenly empty. Perhaps because I was forced to listen and not watch, I had no visual...I couldn't imagine the clouds of dust and smoke occupying that empty space, space which we wouldn't really be able to see for weeks.
I drove home to my house near the national forest, worlds away from the pandemonium of the cities of the East. At the end of my country lane, my dog, Sam stood, looking worriedly up the road. Normally, Sam would be hanging out on our broad front deck, rising to come bounding up to my car to signal his joy at my return. But not that day.
That day, Sam knew...he was a remarkable dog and very attuned to human emotions. But how had he gotten the word that the world was turned upside down that day?
I always left the TV on while I was at work. I used to tease Sam that I would leave the channel on Oprah but that he wasn't to get addicted to the soaps, I didn't want his mind to be corrupted. But of course, that day, there was no Oprah. No Family Feud. Just As the World Turns...it turned 180 degrees that day. Just Peter Jenning's voice and images, infinite in their horror, of flames and people screaming and running and the clouds of dust and smoke and human grief roiling up the streets of Manhattan.
So Sam, being attuned to human emotion, had picked up on the horror of that day and stood at the end of the lane, searching for my car. Sam thought I had somehow been injured in that horror. When I stopped to open my car door, he leapt into my car, licking my face and joyous in his knowledge that, whatever bad had happened that day, it hadn't happened to me.
Except that it did happen to me, and to all of us Americans, wherever Americans live around the world. Our world was no longer safe. I cried into Sam's fur and he licked my tears, making me feel at least a little better.
I can't pretend to understand why extremists hate us, hate the glorious ideals on which our country was founded. No, we aren't and have never been perfect. But we try.
We try to perfect our Constitution through legal means. We amend it to include votes for black men and all women. We give of ourselves and our dollars and our lives for poor and misled peoples throughout the world. No other nation has ever given like Americans give.
Our boots were the first on the ground following the tsunami in Southeast Asia. The first to offer aid to earthquake victims in Chile, Haiti, Pakistan. No, sometimes our aid hasn't always been well distributed and sometimes it has been given for political reasons...but it's given.
We try, however imperfectly, to afford all religions freedom to worship, despite those among us who would deny those freedoms to others.
In the days following 9/11, a tribe of aboriginals in New Zealand sent a herd of cattle to the people of New York. Cattle is currency there and those kind-hearted people, having benefitted from aid from America, wanted to give back to America in the only way they could.
One hundred and forty-seven years ago or so, Lincoln talked about a "more-perfect union"...he recognized that, imperfect though America may be, it is the constant struggle to perfect that sets us apart from every other nation on earth. No, we aren't perfect...will never be.
But we try.
I liked Peter Jennings...I thought him the consummate journalist, right up there with Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite. Just as I was fiddling with the dial to try to get a better signal, the second tower came down. Peter's voice described the scene and then it broke and the journalist in him gave way to his humanity. There was a dead silence on the airwaves and I thought I heard the sound of thousands of agonized voices crying in their death throes. Just my overactive imagination, but I heard thousands of bodies falling to the ground as their souls rose up to heaven.
At the time, we didn't know how many people were in the building, how many had made their escape. There were estimates of 60,000 people who worked in the two buildings. I'd been to those buildings as a tourist...been up on the observation deck of Building #1. I tried unsuccessfully to imagine that space of sky which those towers had occupied suddenly empty. Perhaps because I was forced to listen and not watch, I had no visual...I couldn't imagine the clouds of dust and smoke occupying that empty space, space which we wouldn't really be able to see for weeks.
I drove home to my house near the national forest, worlds away from the pandemonium of the cities of the East. At the end of my country lane, my dog, Sam stood, looking worriedly up the road. Normally, Sam would be hanging out on our broad front deck, rising to come bounding up to my car to signal his joy at my return. But not that day.
That day, Sam knew...he was a remarkable dog and very attuned to human emotions. But how had he gotten the word that the world was turned upside down that day?
I always left the TV on while I was at work. I used to tease Sam that I would leave the channel on Oprah but that he wasn't to get addicted to the soaps, I didn't want his mind to be corrupted. But of course, that day, there was no Oprah. No Family Feud. Just As the World Turns...it turned 180 degrees that day. Just Peter Jenning's voice and images, infinite in their horror, of flames and people screaming and running and the clouds of dust and smoke and human grief roiling up the streets of Manhattan.
So Sam, being attuned to human emotion, had picked up on the horror of that day and stood at the end of the lane, searching for my car. Sam thought I had somehow been injured in that horror. When I stopped to open my car door, he leapt into my car, licking my face and joyous in his knowledge that, whatever bad had happened that day, it hadn't happened to me.
Except that it did happen to me, and to all of us Americans, wherever Americans live around the world. Our world was no longer safe. I cried into Sam's fur and he licked my tears, making me feel at least a little better.
I can't pretend to understand why extremists hate us, hate the glorious ideals on which our country was founded. No, we aren't and have never been perfect. But we try.
We try to perfect our Constitution through legal means. We amend it to include votes for black men and all women. We give of ourselves and our dollars and our lives for poor and misled peoples throughout the world. No other nation has ever given like Americans give.
Our boots were the first on the ground following the tsunami in Southeast Asia. The first to offer aid to earthquake victims in Chile, Haiti, Pakistan. No, sometimes our aid hasn't always been well distributed and sometimes it has been given for political reasons...but it's given.
We try, however imperfectly, to afford all religions freedom to worship, despite those among us who would deny those freedoms to others.
In the days following 9/11, a tribe of aboriginals in New Zealand sent a herd of cattle to the people of New York. Cattle is currency there and those kind-hearted people, having benefitted from aid from America, wanted to give back to America in the only way they could.
One hundred and forty-seven years ago or so, Lincoln talked about a "more-perfect union"...he recognized that, imperfect though America may be, it is the constant struggle to perfect that sets us apart from every other nation on earth. No, we aren't perfect...will never be.
But we try.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Blood is Thicker Than Water
I've always wondered about the origin of this saying, but this past weekend, I came to understand it a little better.
I just got back from a family reunion, which involved three generations of my dad's family. The term "reunion" comes from the same origin as "reunite" and boy did we reunite! Daddy's sister is the only surviving sibling from his generation and she was so gracious and loving to all her nieces and nephews. She gives a wonderful meaning to the term "matriarch."
I have a theory. You see, those three generations traveled to St. Louis to reune from such far-flung cities as Winston-Salem, North Carolina and Dallas, Texas. From Kansas City, from Little Rock. It took me two days to travel there. I went through parts of seven states. I added two state capitals to the list of state capitals I've visited.
Well, not really. I didn't really visit them. More like waved at the West Virginia dome as I flashed past it at 70 miles an hour. More like used the outer belt around Frankfort, Kentucky. But I'm gonna add them to my list anyway. It's my list and I'll do what I like.
So back to the theory. Since blood has so much iron in it, there must be some magnetic quality to it. There are poles in blood...a north and a south and they draw to each other. I should pose this theory to my cousin who runs a blood center, because she knows more about blood than anyone else, I'll bet.
So the magnetism of blood causes us normally sane individuals to leave jobs and responsibilities at home, drive for hours on end in a record heatwave, spend money at a pricey hotel...all for the sake of seeing relatives we haven't seen for 40 years. I mean, we've gotten along for 40 years without seeing these people. Why should we suddenly decide to get together, just because we share DNA?
Blood, that's why. Not the blood that causes some to be squeamish. But the blood of the tribe, the blood of the clan. We are programmed as humans to reunite with people of our blood. (I've often worried and wondered about foster children who find themselves "aged out" of the foster system. Where do they go to reunite? Where do they go to find blood?)
We found, despite the length of time in between our reunions, we could pick up just where we left off. Oh, sure, we had a few hours of bringing everyone up-to-date on the marriages we've had, the children we've sired or mared (if "sire" is the correct word for fathering a child, then is "mared" the correct word for having borne a child?).
After the catching up, we had a lot of laughs. Stories of remembrances of childhood. "Do you remember the time we came to your house for Christmas and Becky still believed in Santa and we strung her along?" "Do you remember the time Roy fell into the creek?" "I can't believe Paul proposed to you like that."
There were some happy/sad memories as well. Memories of a lost uncle who served in WWII. Memories of a handicapped cousin who died suddenly at the age of 27. Memories of my dad, who died just recently but who was a favorite uncle to my cousins. We even went to the uncle's grave site, as none of us got to attend his services. It was solemn, but not sad.
I just hoped that the spouses of all of the cousins had a good time, too. When you're an "out-law", you don't have the memories that we have. Hopefully, they enjoyed hearing about their spouses' childhoods.
We even had time to videotape an interview with my aunt, talking about her childhood. It was a snapshot of that era, of that place. Even her children learned things about their mother they hadn't known or remembered. If only our ancestors had left us that legacy.
One of my cousins is all into genealogy. He serves as the family historian and I'm hoping that the records and photos and stories we exchanged gave him a glimpse into that generation of our family tree. We have famous people in our lineage. An organist who was a friend of Ralph Waldo Emerson. The personal physician to William Penn, who sailed with Penn on the "Welcome" and help found Pennsylvania. Well, okay, maybe not famous but friends of famous people at least. Two degrees of separation.
So this magnetic property of blood, heretofore ignored, is very real. Blood draws blood. Down through generations, the family tree ever expanding to include in-laws, out-laws, children and children's children and children's adoptive children. Familial relations include other people's bloodlines but blood related all the same.
My niece, who is adopted, thinks of herself as belonging to our family. I tease her about having inherited our family's clumsiness, our family's craziness. She's known no other family. We are all of the same blood. Blood is indeed thicker than water.
I just got back from a family reunion, which involved three generations of my dad's family. The term "reunion" comes from the same origin as "reunite" and boy did we reunite! Daddy's sister is the only surviving sibling from his generation and she was so gracious and loving to all her nieces and nephews. She gives a wonderful meaning to the term "matriarch."
I have a theory. You see, those three generations traveled to St. Louis to reune from such far-flung cities as Winston-Salem, North Carolina and Dallas, Texas. From Kansas City, from Little Rock. It took me two days to travel there. I went through parts of seven states. I added two state capitals to the list of state capitals I've visited.
Well, not really. I didn't really visit them. More like waved at the West Virginia dome as I flashed past it at 70 miles an hour. More like used the outer belt around Frankfort, Kentucky. But I'm gonna add them to my list anyway. It's my list and I'll do what I like.
So back to the theory. Since blood has so much iron in it, there must be some magnetic quality to it. There are poles in blood...a north and a south and they draw to each other. I should pose this theory to my cousin who runs a blood center, because she knows more about blood than anyone else, I'll bet.
So the magnetism of blood causes us normally sane individuals to leave jobs and responsibilities at home, drive for hours on end in a record heatwave, spend money at a pricey hotel...all for the sake of seeing relatives we haven't seen for 40 years. I mean, we've gotten along for 40 years without seeing these people. Why should we suddenly decide to get together, just because we share DNA?
Blood, that's why. Not the blood that causes some to be squeamish. But the blood of the tribe, the blood of the clan. We are programmed as humans to reunite with people of our blood. (I've often worried and wondered about foster children who find themselves "aged out" of the foster system. Where do they go to reunite? Where do they go to find blood?)
We found, despite the length of time in between our reunions, we could pick up just where we left off. Oh, sure, we had a few hours of bringing everyone up-to-date on the marriages we've had, the children we've sired or mared (if "sire" is the correct word for fathering a child, then is "mared" the correct word for having borne a child?).
After the catching up, we had a lot of laughs. Stories of remembrances of childhood. "Do you remember the time we came to your house for Christmas and Becky still believed in Santa and we strung her along?" "Do you remember the time Roy fell into the creek?" "I can't believe Paul proposed to you like that."
There were some happy/sad memories as well. Memories of a lost uncle who served in WWII. Memories of a handicapped cousin who died suddenly at the age of 27. Memories of my dad, who died just recently but who was a favorite uncle to my cousins. We even went to the uncle's grave site, as none of us got to attend his services. It was solemn, but not sad.
I just hoped that the spouses of all of the cousins had a good time, too. When you're an "out-law", you don't have the memories that we have. Hopefully, they enjoyed hearing about their spouses' childhoods.
We even had time to videotape an interview with my aunt, talking about her childhood. It was a snapshot of that era, of that place. Even her children learned things about their mother they hadn't known or remembered. If only our ancestors had left us that legacy.
One of my cousins is all into genealogy. He serves as the family historian and I'm hoping that the records and photos and stories we exchanged gave him a glimpse into that generation of our family tree. We have famous people in our lineage. An organist who was a friend of Ralph Waldo Emerson. The personal physician to William Penn, who sailed with Penn on the "Welcome" and help found Pennsylvania. Well, okay, maybe not famous but friends of famous people at least. Two degrees of separation.
So this magnetic property of blood, heretofore ignored, is very real. Blood draws blood. Down through generations, the family tree ever expanding to include in-laws, out-laws, children and children's children and children's adoptive children. Familial relations include other people's bloodlines but blood related all the same.
My niece, who is adopted, thinks of herself as belonging to our family. I tease her about having inherited our family's clumsiness, our family's craziness. She's known no other family. We are all of the same blood. Blood is indeed thicker than water.
Friday, July 9, 2010
You say toe-May-toe, I say toe-Mah-toe
What was I thinking?
Back in April, when I planted 24 (that's 24 with a twenty and a four) tomato plants, I was craving tomatoes. Those purchased in the store have a cardboard taste to me, even those which claim to be "hot house" or "vine ripened." (You know they're lying when the "vine ripened" ones aren't yet ripe and they are clearly off vine.) I also don't know where those store-boughts have been. Who knows what kinds of pesticides and such they've been sprayed with?
I understand wanting a bumper crop of tomatoes back then, when I had cravings, before it was 110 in the shade. But really, Char, TWENTY-FOUR????
Last year, I got on a fresh salsa kick. Practically every tomato to come off the vine (for real vine-ripened) got partnered with some peppers, a little cilantro, a little lime juice. Heaven. I completely lost my taste for El Paso Salsa. Or Frito-Lay. Or even one of those designer labels which makes salsa out of unnatural vegetables and fruits. Peach salsa? Truly unnatural. (Tho' I must confess my son makes a mean pineapple salsa.) Canning the salsa results in the tomatoes being cooked to death which doesn't taste at all like the fresh stuff.
The other Big Mistake I made was to plant mostly Roma tomatoes. For the uninformed, Romas are paste tomatoes. I envisioned making and canning lots of spaghetti sauce and tomato sauce to hold me over this winter. Too late, my elderly neighbor who I consult about all things gardening told me she never, ever planted Romas, on account of they taste like store-bought tomatoes. Mea culpa.
She's right, by the way. Don't ever plant Romas if you want a real tomato. Their only advantage is, they make a pretty dense sauce. But it tastes like you took store-boughts and made a sauce.
I did plant 4 Cherokee Purples which, I'm told, are on the same taste scale as Brandywines. Not only do they taste really good, they turn all shades of pink, red, purple and white. Truly heaven.
I also had some of last year's Brandywines volunteer, so I left them to grow. Or maybe they're German Johnsons. I even had something I call O. Henry tomatoes last year. So called because they were grown from a wonderful tomato I had at that restaurant in Greensboro called O. Henry's. I swiped the seeds off my plate onto a napkin and shoplifted them home, they were that good. They are later bearing than the Romas, so I'm still waiting for that wonderful, acidic taste that belongs to the lowly O. Henry's.
All of the above mentioned tomato varieties are called "heirloom"...that is, they breed true, unlike all those hybridized monstrosities which have bragging, bold names like "Better Boy" and "Big Girl" and "Beefsteak". Nope, these tomatoes keep their marriage vows and don't have red-headed children when their husband is not.
Did you know that, botanically speaking, tomatoes are fruits and not vegetables...that is, they are the product of a flower and a bumblebee? Did you know that the Europeans used to call tomatoes "poison apples"? They truly thought that tomatoes were poisonous, on account of they hadn't discovered them first. Stupid Europeans.
I also don't know so much about those folks who claim that our Universe was created by an Intelligent Designer. I mean, I could design a better world with one hand tied behind my back...particularly a world in which vegetables and fruits would ripen in the winter. That way, canning wouldn't be such a killer. Nothing I like better than to keep all four burners cranking on my stovetop when it's a record-breaking, heat-stroke-inducing day. Not.
I realize now that I should have stuck with last year's number of plants (12) and not bought any more cages. Because next year, I'll no doubt look at all the cages and think I have to plant that many tomatoes.
I further realize that I'm rhapsodizing at length about my tomatoes so I won't have time to go out there, collect all those Romas and make sauce when it's 110 in the shade.
Back in April, when I planted 24 (that's 24 with a twenty and a four) tomato plants, I was craving tomatoes. Those purchased in the store have a cardboard taste to me, even those which claim to be "hot house" or "vine ripened." (You know they're lying when the "vine ripened" ones aren't yet ripe and they are clearly off vine.) I also don't know where those store-boughts have been. Who knows what kinds of pesticides and such they've been sprayed with?
I understand wanting a bumper crop of tomatoes back then, when I had cravings, before it was 110 in the shade. But really, Char, TWENTY-FOUR????
Last year, I got on a fresh salsa kick. Practically every tomato to come off the vine (for real vine-ripened) got partnered with some peppers, a little cilantro, a little lime juice. Heaven. I completely lost my taste for El Paso Salsa. Or Frito-Lay. Or even one of those designer labels which makes salsa out of unnatural vegetables and fruits. Peach salsa? Truly unnatural. (Tho' I must confess my son makes a mean pineapple salsa.) Canning the salsa results in the tomatoes being cooked to death which doesn't taste at all like the fresh stuff.
The other Big Mistake I made was to plant mostly Roma tomatoes. For the uninformed, Romas are paste tomatoes. I envisioned making and canning lots of spaghetti sauce and tomato sauce to hold me over this winter. Too late, my elderly neighbor who I consult about all things gardening told me she never, ever planted Romas, on account of they taste like store-bought tomatoes. Mea culpa.
She's right, by the way. Don't ever plant Romas if you want a real tomato. Their only advantage is, they make a pretty dense sauce. But it tastes like you took store-boughts and made a sauce.
I did plant 4 Cherokee Purples which, I'm told, are on the same taste scale as Brandywines. Not only do they taste really good, they turn all shades of pink, red, purple and white. Truly heaven.
I also had some of last year's Brandywines volunteer, so I left them to grow. Or maybe they're German Johnsons. I even had something I call O. Henry tomatoes last year. So called because they were grown from a wonderful tomato I had at that restaurant in Greensboro called O. Henry's. I swiped the seeds off my plate onto a napkin and shoplifted them home, they were that good. They are later bearing than the Romas, so I'm still waiting for that wonderful, acidic taste that belongs to the lowly O. Henry's.
All of the above mentioned tomato varieties are called "heirloom"...that is, they breed true, unlike all those hybridized monstrosities which have bragging, bold names like "Better Boy" and "Big Girl" and "Beefsteak". Nope, these tomatoes keep their marriage vows and don't have red-headed children when their husband is not.
Did you know that, botanically speaking, tomatoes are fruits and not vegetables...that is, they are the product of a flower and a bumblebee? Did you know that the Europeans used to call tomatoes "poison apples"? They truly thought that tomatoes were poisonous, on account of they hadn't discovered them first. Stupid Europeans.
I also don't know so much about those folks who claim that our Universe was created by an Intelligent Designer. I mean, I could design a better world with one hand tied behind my back...particularly a world in which vegetables and fruits would ripen in the winter. That way, canning wouldn't be such a killer. Nothing I like better than to keep all four burners cranking on my stovetop when it's a record-breaking, heat-stroke-inducing day. Not.
I realize now that I should have stuck with last year's number of plants (12) and not bought any more cages. Because next year, I'll no doubt look at all the cages and think I have to plant that many tomatoes.
I further realize that I'm rhapsodizing at length about my tomatoes so I won't have time to go out there, collect all those Romas and make sauce when it's 110 in the shade.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Supremes
I am honored and humbled to have been selected to write this blog.
That is, I selected myself and you probably could care less about what I think of the Supreme Court. Fine with me, but I'm gonna blog anyway.
The intro paragraph in this blog is the standard issue response to many a Supreme wannabe after nomination. They all say the same thing...they owe it all to their parents...they are honored and humbled (occasionally they are humbled and honored)...little did they dream, as a frosh at Harvard Law School (occasionally Yale Law School)...blah...blah...blah.
I've heard a great deal about how Elena Kagan is the least qualified of any candidate in our lifetime. Except, of course, for Clarence Thomas, Thurgood Marshall, and nominee Harriet Miers, who nominated herself. You may remember, she was on the search committee, looked around and decided she herself was the only qualified person.
It seems to me, ignorant woman that I am, that the qualifications should at the very least be a knowledge of the Constitution and the Law. Being as how the Supremes are always ruling on the Constitutionality of the cases brought before them and all. Having tried cases, particularly in Federal Court, seems to be of secondary importance. By this token, many law school grads (particularly those who aced Constitutional Law class) might make good Justices. I wonder what Chief Justice Roberts made in Constitutional Law class?
Kagan represents a first for the Court. If approved, she would be the third concurrent woman on the Big Bench. It seems to me that we women should have 5 seats, since women represent 51% of the US population. I think that's a good percentage for every walk of life...women should be 51% of doctors, corporate CEOs, zoo keepers, accountants, Senators, every career. But that's just me.
What concerns me, however, is that if Kagan is approved, Catholics would have 6 of the 9 seats, with the rest being Jewish. Not a Protestant, nor a Muslim, nor a Zorasterian nor a Two-Seed-
in-the-Spirit Predestinarian in sight. I am a lapsed Baptist and Baptists used to be all into separation of Church and State. Not so much now. Catholics have throughout history been all into being really chummy with State.
Roe v. Wade has been in the cross hairs of the extreme Right for many years, but how do you suppose the Catholics on the Big Bench are gonna vote when that landmark decision comes up before the Court. The Pope could excommunicate them if they don't vote his way. Or send them to Purgatory. Or something else equally abhorent. Can you imagine a Court where some guy in white robes in Rome gets to decide on US law?
Harvardians (Harvardites? Harvardists?) have a corner on seats on the Big Bench, with Yalies a distant second. I hear Northwestern has a pretty good law school. So does George Washington. So does Tulane. So why don't we have more representation from other law schools? Seems kinda incestuous to me.
Which brings me to the subject of Court activism. Seems like the Supremes on the Right have been pretty activist, but Republican Senators are all concerned about Kagan (and Sotomayor before her) and their potential for activism. As in ignoring precedent and making law from the Big Bench.
From yesteryear, I remember learning in Civics class in high school that we have three branches of government...the Congress to make the laws, the Supremes to judge the laws and the Executive branch to execute the laws. The Supreme Court doesn't have a Constitutional right to make laws, but tell that to the Court in 2000 when they illegally decided the outcome of a Presidental election.
How would you feel about term limits for the Supremes?
That is, I selected myself and you probably could care less about what I think of the Supreme Court. Fine with me, but I'm gonna blog anyway.
The intro paragraph in this blog is the standard issue response to many a Supreme wannabe after nomination. They all say the same thing...they owe it all to their parents...they are honored and humbled (occasionally they are humbled and honored)...little did they dream, as a frosh at Harvard Law School (occasionally Yale Law School)...blah...blah...blah.
I've heard a great deal about how Elena Kagan is the least qualified of any candidate in our lifetime. Except, of course, for Clarence Thomas, Thurgood Marshall, and nominee Harriet Miers, who nominated herself. You may remember, she was on the search committee, looked around and decided she herself was the only qualified person.
It seems to me, ignorant woman that I am, that the qualifications should at the very least be a knowledge of the Constitution and the Law. Being as how the Supremes are always ruling on the Constitutionality of the cases brought before them and all. Having tried cases, particularly in Federal Court, seems to be of secondary importance. By this token, many law school grads (particularly those who aced Constitutional Law class) might make good Justices. I wonder what Chief Justice Roberts made in Constitutional Law class?
Kagan represents a first for the Court. If approved, she would be the third concurrent woman on the Big Bench. It seems to me that we women should have 5 seats, since women represent 51% of the US population. I think that's a good percentage for every walk of life...women should be 51% of doctors, corporate CEOs, zoo keepers, accountants, Senators, every career. But that's just me.
What concerns me, however, is that if Kagan is approved, Catholics would have 6 of the 9 seats, with the rest being Jewish. Not a Protestant, nor a Muslim, nor a Zorasterian nor a Two-Seed-
in-the-Spirit Predestinarian in sight. I am a lapsed Baptist and Baptists used to be all into separation of Church and State. Not so much now. Catholics have throughout history been all into being really chummy with State.
Roe v. Wade has been in the cross hairs of the extreme Right for many years, but how do you suppose the Catholics on the Big Bench are gonna vote when that landmark decision comes up before the Court. The Pope could excommunicate them if they don't vote his way. Or send them to Purgatory. Or something else equally abhorent. Can you imagine a Court where some guy in white robes in Rome gets to decide on US law?
Harvardians (Harvardites? Harvardists?) have a corner on seats on the Big Bench, with Yalies a distant second. I hear Northwestern has a pretty good law school. So does George Washington. So does Tulane. So why don't we have more representation from other law schools? Seems kinda incestuous to me.
Which brings me to the subject of Court activism. Seems like the Supremes on the Right have been pretty activist, but Republican Senators are all concerned about Kagan (and Sotomayor before her) and their potential for activism. As in ignoring precedent and making law from the Big Bench.
From yesteryear, I remember learning in Civics class in high school that we have three branches of government...the Congress to make the laws, the Supremes to judge the laws and the Executive branch to execute the laws. The Supreme Court doesn't have a Constitutional right to make laws, but tell that to the Court in 2000 when they illegally decided the outcome of a Presidental election.
How would you feel about term limits for the Supremes?
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Food to Gag You
I must admit I watched "Top Chef" for several seasons and I was fascinated with the obsession of creating dishes that had never been thought of before. Sometimes, being unique creates some truly inedible dishes. The reason that dish hasn't ever been served before is because it tastes like crap.
They seemed to go out of their way to find truly exotic ingredients. What's wrong with the lowly green onion? Why do you have to have shallots? Some of the stuff they used I hadn't even heard of. I know some of my chef friends out there are blowing their pot lids and yelling "It tastes different!!" Yeah, but not that different.
The other reason I don't watch "Top Chef" anymore is I got tired of the fake-o dramas, the sabotage, the hissy fits, the cruelty of the judges, who after all, are just people who don't like certain dishes. They've convinced themselves that their palates are all so sophisticated. I bet if you fed those dishes to homeless people, they'd be all "This is the best food I've ever eaten."
I had to use soy milk for several years when my kids were little. I made the poor tykes drink the stuff. Child abuse, pure and simple. I used it in baking and cooking, but I wouldn't drink the stuff myself. Have you ever tasted soy milk? Gag me with a spoon.
Recently, after years of avoiding any soy milk, I was told by one of those granola vegan people that soy milk has improved. "It's really good now. That's all I drink," he said. So I tried it. Almost gagged. Soy milk, for anyone who hasn't tasted it recently, is just as horrible a product as it's always been. Who ever thought that squashing beans would result in a delicious drink?
Same thing with carob. In order to make carob taste a little like chocolate, you have to add a ton of sugar, which sort of defeats the purpose. That, incidentally, is why I don't like soy milk...they add a ton of sugar to cover the really gaggy taste. Don't let anyone tell you any differently.
I also wonder about puffer fish. I mean, how many people died before they discovered exactly how to prepare it so it wouldn't kill you? Why not just stick with catfish? Or salmon? Trout? Why take a poisonous fish and experiment with it? I can imagine the chef who finally achieved making puffer fish edible. He probably had trouble getting people to eat his food as experimental subjects. Imagine his triumph when the meal was completed and everybody was still breathing.
I don't care much for gumbo. Mostly because it gets that slimy texture from okra. I like all the rest of the ingredients but I literally do gag on boiled okra. I love fried okra, which of course isn't as good for you as the boiled stuff, but the boiled stuff has the texture of snot. Okay, I guess I should back off, 'cause I don't want to gag my Reader.
Kids these days are lucky. In the 1950's, when I was growing up, there was a rule. Liver and onions once a week. It was purportedly to build up your blood. You know, a once-a-week shot of iron. I think housewives in those days actually had a weekly menu. Liver on Monday, chicken on Tuesday, pork chops on Wednesday, etc. culminating with pot roast on Sunday, because you could leave the roast in the oven while you went to church.
Mole is another food I'm not sure about. You know, that sauce which appears in Mexican cuisine. It has like a gazillion ingredients including chocolate and can go horribly wrong if you don't know what you are doing. I'll bet it was invented by someone on "Top Chef".
I have many friends who are excellent cooks. They make the darn stuff from scratch. It is evidently very difficult to make, kinda like hollandaise. I make a pretty mean hollandaise, if I do say so myself. Mole is evidently one of those sauces which is street cred for those who really know their South of the Border food. They are kinda like wine snobs.
Why all the drama? Why not just take Hersey's Syrup and pour it on the chicken or whatever? I don't know that I'd try a dish that has chocolate on any entree or veggie dish, much as I love chocolate. I like my chocolate in brownies, cake, on ice cream, in Snickers bars.
Not so much on puffer fish.
They seemed to go out of their way to find truly exotic ingredients. What's wrong with the lowly green onion? Why do you have to have shallots? Some of the stuff they used I hadn't even heard of. I know some of my chef friends out there are blowing their pot lids and yelling "It tastes different!!" Yeah, but not that different.
The other reason I don't watch "Top Chef" anymore is I got tired of the fake-o dramas, the sabotage, the hissy fits, the cruelty of the judges, who after all, are just people who don't like certain dishes. They've convinced themselves that their palates are all so sophisticated. I bet if you fed those dishes to homeless people, they'd be all "This is the best food I've ever eaten."
I had to use soy milk for several years when my kids were little. I made the poor tykes drink the stuff. Child abuse, pure and simple. I used it in baking and cooking, but I wouldn't drink the stuff myself. Have you ever tasted soy milk? Gag me with a spoon.
Recently, after years of avoiding any soy milk, I was told by one of those granola vegan people that soy milk has improved. "It's really good now. That's all I drink," he said. So I tried it. Almost gagged. Soy milk, for anyone who hasn't tasted it recently, is just as horrible a product as it's always been. Who ever thought that squashing beans would result in a delicious drink?
Same thing with carob. In order to make carob taste a little like chocolate, you have to add a ton of sugar, which sort of defeats the purpose. That, incidentally, is why I don't like soy milk...they add a ton of sugar to cover the really gaggy taste. Don't let anyone tell you any differently.
I also wonder about puffer fish. I mean, how many people died before they discovered exactly how to prepare it so it wouldn't kill you? Why not just stick with catfish? Or salmon? Trout? Why take a poisonous fish and experiment with it? I can imagine the chef who finally achieved making puffer fish edible. He probably had trouble getting people to eat his food as experimental subjects. Imagine his triumph when the meal was completed and everybody was still breathing.
I don't care much for gumbo. Mostly because it gets that slimy texture from okra. I like all the rest of the ingredients but I literally do gag on boiled okra. I love fried okra, which of course isn't as good for you as the boiled stuff, but the boiled stuff has the texture of snot. Okay, I guess I should back off, 'cause I don't want to gag my Reader.
Kids these days are lucky. In the 1950's, when I was growing up, there was a rule. Liver and onions once a week. It was purportedly to build up your blood. You know, a once-a-week shot of iron. I think housewives in those days actually had a weekly menu. Liver on Monday, chicken on Tuesday, pork chops on Wednesday, etc. culminating with pot roast on Sunday, because you could leave the roast in the oven while you went to church.
Mole is another food I'm not sure about. You know, that sauce which appears in Mexican cuisine. It has like a gazillion ingredients including chocolate and can go horribly wrong if you don't know what you are doing. I'll bet it was invented by someone on "Top Chef".
I have many friends who are excellent cooks. They make the darn stuff from scratch. It is evidently very difficult to make, kinda like hollandaise. I make a pretty mean hollandaise, if I do say so myself. Mole is evidently one of those sauces which is street cred for those who really know their South of the Border food. They are kinda like wine snobs.
Why all the drama? Why not just take Hersey's Syrup and pour it on the chicken or whatever? I don't know that I'd try a dish that has chocolate on any entree or veggie dish, much as I love chocolate. I like my chocolate in brownies, cake, on ice cream, in Snickers bars.
Not so much on puffer fish.
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