Mar 29, 2011

23,000 Twitter followers and counting...

The Bronx Zoo lost a cobra overnight. A cobra. With a Twitter account. That's a mighty big feat for a little bitty reptile without thumbs. The cobra, only months old and 3 ozs, is lost in a snake house that is closed to the public. Through a series of surprisingly witty and clever twits, she has taken a side trip into the Big Apple to explore.  

http://twitter.com/BronxZoosCobra

She now has 183,447 .. 48 .. 49 .. followers. And adding about 5 people a minute by my calculations.

Highlights thus far ...
  • I want to thank those animals from the movie "Madagascar." They were a real inspiration.
  • Want to clear up a misconception. I'm not poisonous as has been reported. I'm venomous. Super venomous, but not poisonous so don't worry.
  • What does it take to get a cab in this city?! It's cause I'm not white isn't it.
  • Holding very still in the snake exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. This is gonna be hilarious!
  • Rockefeller Plaza is amaz....wait...OMG! Tina Fey totally just walked by me! HUUUUGE FAN!
  •  Leaving Wall Street. These guys make my skin crawl.
  • Anyone know of a good vegan restaurant near Union Square?
  • Gonna listen to some Jazz tonight. You know I love some great flute work. Do they provide it or is it bring your own basket? 
  • If I recognize a single belt at Bergdorfs or Dkny...  It's a good time to visit you know: our resident mongoose is on a holiday.
  • At the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Temple of Dendur really kicks some asp.
  • Enjoying a cupcake @magnoliabakery. This is going straight to my hips. Oh, wait. I don't have hips. Yesss!
  • Can you hear me now? Phone rings. Caller ID: Bronx Zoo. It’s the snake. Hard to hear. Lots of hissing on line.
  • On top of the Empire State Building! All the people look like little mice down there. Delicious little mice.
  •  Getting my morning coffee at the Mudtruck. Don't even talk to me until I've had my morning coffee. Seriously, don't. I'm venomous.

Mar 26, 2011

Rain Rain Go Away...

I'll admit we Californians are lightweights where the weather is concerned. Being a weatherman in CA must be the most boring job EVER ... 'Today is sunny with a light breeze coming from the East. The next two weeks ahead look like they will be sunny and gusty at times to 20 mph ...'

Out here, we consider weather our friend, nothing to flip out about, although watching commuters during the first real rain of the season wouldn't give you that impression.  That being said, we take most of this weather business for granted. Nothing big ever happens here, compared to the bitter cold and tons of snow and hurricanes and tornadoes elsewhere.

But this time we MEAN it:  we have SERIOUS weather going on!  Let's just put on hold for now Crescent City and the Tsunami ripples that caused all sorts of problems for them because they got a raw deal.

We've got record snowfall and rainfall from storm after storm pounding our state. Yesterday Capitola overflowed from a swollen creek that flooded downtown.  In little Woodlandia we've now got an Infinity style hot tub and pool for no extra charge.

The reservoirs are nearly at capacity and had to release some water for the expected series of storms this week. Yesterday the Sacramento River was right up to the houses at the banks of the county line. The rice fields are deep under water beneath the causeway and on Thursday there were whitecaps from 60 mph wind gusts. That got my attention as I puttered across in my Toyota, wishing I had bricks in my trunk.

The road parallel to the causeway is below the water line and the train trestle is just a few feet above. Hail is on and off every day; raindrops are the size of quarters. There is a LOT of water. There is a lot of mud. 

Elk Grove had so much hail you could scoop it up like snow. The Garden Hwy is a Levee road just north of downtown Sac. On the right side the river water is two thirds up the embankment; on the left are sleepy little low-lying houses. It doesn't take too much imagination that there is levee monitoring going on 24-7, especially after the multiple levee breaches of the late 1990s in nearby San Joaquin County.

Already in Sutter County there was a crack found in one of their levees and earth-moving equipment can't navigate the saturated ground. So they patched it with an old-fashioned fire line of men with sandbags and plastic. Round-the-clock monitoring continues there, too.

Hwy 50 and 80 (to Tahoe and Reno, respectively) is closed completely on and off. Tim's in that mess this morning for a long-planned getaway with friends. Truckers sit idle by the roadside and overrun truck stops as they wait for visibility to improve.  Dave and Mike are racing their beater racecar today and tomorrow, so we're turning out for that with ponchos and a thermos of coffee. And a 24 hour outdoor Relay For Life at UOP in Stockton.

We are over capacity for snowfall which very soon will be melting and running off to ... I'll get back to you on where that will go. On the news last night they cautioned that in some areas not to jump too high because of proximity to electrical lines. By that they meant the 30' high electrical poles are now less than 10' off the ground due to the 20' snow drifts.

Did someone forget to forward the calendar to Mother Nature? This is supposed to be spring!!

Mar 24, 2011

Bushels of Confidence

There was a study recently conducted with high schoolers internationally and American seniors ranked top in the world in - no, not math or science or history - but in confidence. I got a kick out of that: we aren't smarter than other children in measurable ways, we only think we are.

How totally Teenagesque! I remember jumping into things with both feet. Not realizing I should exercise more caution, or even entertaining the thought I might fail, it was an exhilirating time. And then years went by and slowly the remodeling took place. Sometimes I wonder how much of me was left on the cutting room floor.

To this day the friends I treasure most are the ones who never lost that sense of invulnerability. Old enough to 'know better', they constantly surprise and delight with their half brained ideas and a hearty laugh when they see the results. They fearlessky grab life and let it whip them around. Their life is full of unexpected delights and that's why we flock to them: they bring us out to play.

Friends like that can talk me into swimming across a lake with beers stuffed in my bathing suit; make me laugh through a snorkle and play Super Sloppy Double Dare games in the back yard with 20 little kids; put me in a car with no known destination other than a series of clues that need to be interpreted; sit and watch The Three Musketeers in the movies four times in one day; love with their whole hearts so you are safe and warm; plan a road trip on a lark; talk and laugh for two and a half hours until the cell battery dies; and toilet paper the house with the kids just to see if they can tie a big toilet paper bow on the front door without waking the dog.

I'm glad you are in my life!

Mar 19, 2011

Using the Rosary

As a kid, I had some Catholic friends and attended church with them sometimes. The use of the Rosary and chanting throughout the service was really weird, even though there is some response in the Lutheran services. It seemed pretty impersonal to me, and nothing like the more engaging and timely sermons by our Pastors that helped us understand everyday life. I'm sure there are many different ways of delivering the message of Everlasting Life and who was I to judge?

My ex didn't go to church, or his brothers or sisters, but his mother was a devout Catholic. When she passed, I got one of her Rosary beads and a little teacup as mementos. I treasure them.

All through my life, I've wondered where the dividing line is for the term Christian, and who decides and when. It seems largely a matter of preference among the many religions of the world. For some, you are not considered devout unless you are active and financially supporting a church, studying the good book and - most of all - perceived and accepted by others into the circle. For others, it is to stop during the day to kneel and pray; or wear clothing demonstrating a penitent spirit; or confess your sins before a Priest.

Lutherans deliver the message far differently than Catholics, and that was true at a viewing/wake for a friend's father's funeral. For the first time, sitting with my husband who is a Catholic, I learned how to use the rosary properly, and as we worked the beads together I began to understand the humility and comfort of it.  We used Rosary beads of his mother and those we had bought at the Vatican that was blessed by the Pope.

For a long, long while both of us have been independent Christians. Morning quiet prayers and gratefulness for His gifts in our life, and nightly prayers for those in need. But being in church fills my spirit with a different kind of longing. I miss it.  And I miss other things, too, that have fallen by the wayside, nourishing habits that would deepen and qualify life. Things like ~ regular exercise, leisure reading, volunteerism and outreach, and writing every day.

Both of us believe that our personal relationship with God is strong and honest in our quiet time every day. Would it make us feel differently about God by attending a weekly service? Probably not. But I am realizing that I miss the much broader perspective of the sermons, the readings and psalms, the hymns, and the fellowship that more regular attendance would bring.

I think I'll pray about it.

Mar 17, 2011

Probable Outcomes

We'd heard a lot about the movie (docu-something), Waiting for Superman, and last night sat down to watch it for the first time.  It was not what I expected. Not even close.

This is the intro description: 'Documentary filmmaker Davis Guggenheim explores the tragic ways in which the American public education system is failing our nation's children, and explores the roles that charter schools and education reformers could play in offering hope for the future. We see the statistics every day -- students dropping out, science and math scores falling, and schools closing due to lack of funding. What we don't see are the names and faces of the children whose entire futures are at stake due to our own inability to enact change. There was a time when the American public education system was a model admired by the entire world. Today other countries are surpassing us in every respect, and the slogan "No Child Left Behind" has become a cynical punch line. By investigating how the current system is actually obstructing their education instead of bolstering it, Guggenheim opens the door to considering possible options for transformation and improvement.'

Bunk.

I was surprised and interested to learn that even modest educational reform in DC had to begin with a woman who had no stake in the process other than as a parent, and had no direct experience or credentials to be Chancellor and no desire to continue.  It reminds me of the Bob Dylan lyrics, 'When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.'

I was drawn to and repelled by the fact that the US Department of Education carefully tracks failing schools, which they refer to  by a grim nickname and with full awareness continue to let them 'serve' the community without providing a public school alternative.  The impression was left was that there are just too many issues to address, and we all heard loud and clear that failing schools were predominantly in socio-economically disadvantaged communities. Oh woe is me, the movie implied, that these children are essentially loss-leaders. 

Charter schools took up a large segment of the movie, and I've worked in a Charter in a disadvantaged community, and I know what a breath of fresh air it can be. I've worked in a public school as well, and the difference is shockingly apparent. The Charter has less regulation and so can operate based on a series of expectations they establish for a proper learning environment. They can require personal accountability, higher academic standards as terms of attendance, even uniforms. They can teach meaningful material in a meaningful way, and manipulate the time into segments where study skills and senior project periods are built in. And the reason there is less flexibility and adaptability in the public schools, 100% of the cause, rests on the shoulders of the State/US Departments of Education and the Unions.

The movie really nailed teachers to the wall.  I was not surprised by that; in fact teachers always have everything dumped on them whether it is deserving or not. They get up every day and face children out of control who may live in unstable environments. They teach what they are told to teach and not what they need to teach to make a difference in these kids' lives. Sometimes they work in dangerous places where they invest 12 hours a days, six days a week, plus adjunct duties and weekend supervision for sports events and parent nights. And for all of that, they get yelled at and cursed at, by parents and kids, and often the administration doesn't have the backbone to back them up when they are in the right.

We've got some nasty societal problems, that is true, but the teachers in failing schools can't fix them. They can't make their administration, the communities, or the state and federal bodies that are supposed to serve children unilaterally give a damn. To blame a teacher for the meltdown of the educational system is like telling a homeowner that although the roof is caving in, if they roll up their sleeves and do their part the rest will magically become structurally sound. 

Teacher's unions do contribute to the complacency that has crusted around meaningful changes to public schools, and it's easy for the Fed and State educational bodies to use that blockade as an excuse for not being more aggressive and solutions-oriented. I think the problem lies as much as with the over regulating and limitations on how and what is taught and the seven different assessment tools taking precious class time.  The face of this tragedy is in the infrastructure, and ramming the students through a system that treats them like a hot potato and allows promotions with absolutely no skill sets to succeed.
Mediocre is the new pink, and not just in the schools. 

Waiting for Superman, at least for me, gave parents everywhere a free pass, and the crux of the matter rests with them. Are parents, grandparents, or community leaders vested in this? It doesn't seem like we are. A lot of homes still don't model how to approach school, the importance of it, and what a game changer it is.  Children learn what they live.

If a good education is not a guarantee, then we must win the day. Where is the national movement to demand change that is powered by every citizen from every state for every child? Nothing less will do.

Mar 16, 2011

The Summer Place

There's a running joke around here that we've got to be home on Saturday at 5 for the HGTV crew to sneak up on us and present the big prize of the Dream Home in Stowe, Vermont. We've been logging online every day to put in our chances to win 'the summer place'.

With a place like that, we'd be finally able to see the change of seasons with 12 of our closest friends. There'd be a 20' tree nestled in the family room at Christmas and it would overlook snow-covered fields as far as the eye could see. In April we'd watch the lush colors of spring burst into bloom and the hills turn emerald green from the comfort of our hot tub on the deck.

It would be an extraordinary stroke of luck, to win something like that, even with work, children, pets and friends on the other side of the country. But we've worked that through, too. We would rent it out as a ski chalet and hold back the weeks that family and friends want to be there. We'd find a great caregiver and include the house on a tour of homes. It would be self sustaining and maybe even pay for airfare for everyone to travel there.

This isn't the only thing we stalk. There's that trip to Rome offered by Frommer's, which we have registered daily to win for the last several months. A free trip over for two, plus all the add-ins -accommodations, food, activities. And you already know about House Hunters International and what an addictive drug that is about owning a second home in some exotic location. Unlike the people featured on the show, we are unwilling to get into debt up to our eyeballs to have it, even if we could. Which we can't.

So this whole giveaway idea is just the ticket!  Free*Free*Free. So come Saturday, we'll be vacuuming the house and putting on coffee around 4:30pm, in case you want to stop by. We'll play Tripoley 'til they arrive.

http://www.hgtv.com/hgtv-dream-home-2011-tour/package/index.html

Mar 13, 2011

A Respectful Bow

Oh my Lord, the international news reports coming in from northern Japan are heartbreaking. Amazing stories of survival include watching their life wash away as they cling to a tree or something, and hours of expecting to perish before they are found. Their faces are etched with worry as they are carried to a chair, and right away they gather up the blankets around them and find legs to stand so they can bow to their rescuers.

The largest quake was severe enough to move the earth 8 feet. One survivor, a grateful grandmother in the evacuation center, lay with her eyes on her grandson as he slept;  a hive of workers scrambled over the mountain of debris looking for those undiscovered and trapped; one sorrowful man stood lost and looking for small part of his former life. It is grim.

There have been hundreds of aftershocks and another quake today just north of Sendai that triggered another tsunami. As you would expect, newsreporting has been continuous since Friday and yet there is an absence of paparazzi photos of outraged and self-righteous people wailing in loss. What we see are people sitting side by side and patiently waiting for the work to begin. What grace!

The national disaster preparedness policies were fantastic and surely saved lives in the aftermath. It has been life-affirming to watch the open-arms dialogue from a self-contained culture, and the worldwide response of rescue teams already on the ground there. They are not alone.

As hard as it is, there is a great lesson in observing the behavior of people when all that is left behind is life. Their national character and resilience shines through to stabilize and resolve, cope and respond. Already we see they are ready to rebuild as they collectively focus on a new point on the horizon.  I find it deeply moving to watch life find a way.

Mar 11, 2011

津波: an American spin

Japan has been hit (again) by a serious quake over 8.0 and (again) loss of life and a follow up Tsunami. Our hearts go out to them, especially from sister Californians who live in 'the zone' and not too distantly dealt with the aftermath of a smaller quake here at home.

A Tsunami is caused by "the displacement of a large volume of a body of water due to disturbances above or below the water." (Thank you, Wikipedia) The ocean currents freak out, not only at the site of the earthquake but for thousands of miles in every direction. The closest land gets it: the more shallow it is, the bigger the punch. It was heartbreaking to watch a wall of water 23' high travel 6 miles inland.
Survivor accounts of a Japanese tsunami by a child at a school in the 1920s described the waters receding a long way from shore, and her classmates running down to pick up starfish and seashells. As the ocean built in volume on the horizon and a distinctly big wave formed, they realized the danger too late as they ran for their lives.

It's hard to imagine the approach of a wall of water with no break that surges in and swallows everything in its path. People thinking they were safely out of the way are often swept out to sea with the receding waters. And this just minutes after the shock of living through the most devastating quake imaginable, an 8.9 and hundreds of times stronger than the devastating San Francisco quake of 1906.

Open bays and coastlines are risk even half a world away and so a Tsunami warning was put out for Hawaii and along the west coast through noon today.  For some unknown reason our four major news stations took this as an invite for continual coverage even though tracking a Tsunami is a waiting game. It takes a while to travel. (Dramadramadrama)

Not only that. I'm looking at a confusing series of photos of the Japanese Tsunami on the left side of the screen with a reporter in Hawaii on the right. To the casual observer, it implies that the pictures you are viewing are from Hawaii. Not good, people.

Let's try another station. Here we are looking at the Great Hwy in San Francisco across from where Pop B lives, which has been closed since 5am and is being patrolled by SF's finest. Another earnest looking reporter is standing on the abandoned road and interviewing officers about the implied danger. (But evacuations? No?) With swells expected to be 2' above normal (isn't that 24 inches?) they will 'continually monitor the situation'. Well thank God for that!

Flipping to another station ... where photos are constantly repeating in Santa Cruz, showing the local bridge and a couple of dozen commercial and private boats having lost the oldest dock at the north side of the marina floating along upside down. Five hours of the same pictures and no mention of the 95% of the marina that remains. People in tears. Seriously!

News is super important, I get that, for early warnings and notifications, but I wish it were spent  keeping focused on the real tragedy here: the Japanese people and news on how to help and where to donate. Even with baby tsunami leftovers, no part of this day should have been about us.

Mar 9, 2011

Do Unto Others

I read rather a shocking article by Lenore Skenazy ( http://www.parentdish.com/2011/03/08/kids-helpless/?icid=maing%7Cmain5%7Cdl6%7Csec3_lnk2%7C49092 ) about the importance of independence in children.  In it, the author bluntly accused well-meaning and over-indulging parents of teaching the Art of Handicap-itis (my word) rather than self reliance. She went so far as to identify the drop off spots in front of the elementary school as former handicap zones that proves parents think their children are unable to walk.

I love a good starry-eyed trip back to the days of my youth, too, when we walked to school uphill both ways in the snow. But if you take a trip there you might want to look at it all, like all of my neighbors had two parent households and one family car, and there were roughly 35 kids on the block to walk with in a clump to the elementary school at the end of the street.

There were other differences, too. We took our lunch in a lunch box with a thermos of milk. If we fell down on the way to school, we had to figure out if we wanted to ask the secretary for a bandaid or turn for home. There were no cells right to Mom.

At the show, we paid attention because we got to see it once.  No one blew their allowance. When that .50 was plunked down, we had already worked out two or three different ways to go, plus a little to savings. And if we skipped our chores that meant no allowance. Simple systems are sometimes best.

So instead of debating the merits of whether to train and empower our children with the skills they need in life, the better question might be: at what age should it begin? 

It already has. Our little sponges are learning all the time, so make the process interactive. That's it! No big mystery! Have them help pick up their toys when they're 3 and make the bed when they're 4; let them stand on a stool and help mom do laundry when they're 7 and make one dinner a week when they're 10; praise them and push them and model what you want them to learn. Set up consequences and stick to them.  C'mon! Who needs a class on this stuff?!

I'm sometimes sorry that the world has changed. But nowadays my neighbors are busy single parents or two-wage earners. They often need to be on the road before school starts, and they've got to get them there so they drop them off. I'd be vying for that cherry drop off spot right in front of the school, too, because it's faster and safer.

Hey, parents are people, too.

Mar 7, 2011

Long Time Passing

Looking in the mirror shows a ...
Long time's been passing;
Someone's looking back at me
(Kinda looks like Mom;)
Looking in the mirror: guess
the lighting must be terrible!
I still feel 25
But can't see signs when I drive.  

Where has all the firmness gone
Long time passing;
Where has all the firmness gone
Long time ago;
Where has all the firmness gone:
Gone to crows feet everyone;
We'd better moisturize
And hatch a plan to downsize.

Where have all the noses gone
Long time passing;
Where have all the noses gone
Long time ago;
Where have all the noses gone
Gone to gravity everyone;
A witches' nose is there
Which seems completely unfair.

Where have all the jawlines gone
Long time passing;
Where have all the jawlines gone
Long time ago;
Where have all the jawlines gone
Gone to neck fat everyone:
It was there yesterday:
The jowls are just in the way.

Where have all the hairs come from
Long time passing;
Where have all the hairs come from
Long time ago;
Where have all the hairs come from
Lips and chins and everywhere:
They pop up overnight
And hard to see in the light.

Where have all my glasses gone
Long time passing;
Where have all my glasses gone
Long time ago;
Where have all my glasses gone
I can't see without them now
When will I ever learn?
One pair in every room...

Mar 6, 2011

What to Do

Well here I am sitting on the fence at a crossroads, and in the lightening round. I'm only here as a spectator, but it's bad enough even in that capacity.

Someone fairly new to me has developed a false impression of someone I love. As simple as that, decades of relationship building is dissolving away.  It resembles watching a computer virus eat through the hard drive and all you can do is stand helplessly by.

Every time I see it happen, I can never really believe that such unimportant, indefensible issues can take down something so sturdy. In the aftermath, there's no gap to widen, no hope for repair. And although it should be taken into account, it doesn't soften the blow knowing that age and mental acuity are factors. 

I know that what is in our hearts is not always on our lips but I'm reluctant to believe situations come up where each action and reaction is judged separate from the bridge you have spent a lifetime to construct. Seriously, all this (hard) hat hair for nothing.

Ok, so I don't want to believe that we can't count on anyone for sure and what is built together is transitory. I don't even want there to be words for it.

My Very Own Shoes

One of my favorite things when I was a little kid was to pull out a pair of my father's dress shoes and clomp around the house.  They barely stayed on and there was no hope at all I'd ever fit into them. Two of my feet fit into one of his shoes.

It's an interesting expression, 'having big shoes to fill', when you apply it to building a life, because invariably there is always someone ahead who has done everything first.  No one skips a predecessor who has done it, worked it, played it, raised it, or believed it.  And very likely it was done thoroughly and with great panache.

Thankfully, Lifekeeping doesn't remind us of that too often. Everything feels like a personal first as we work our own booth, swap in and out relationships and jobs, go up and down ladders while juggling plates. 

So what is it about being asked to fill big shoes that causes such anxiety and self doubt? Here we've been happily owning our journey and building off the experience and knowledge of others the whole time, millions of times over... and then the dreaded words of ... 'boy, you have some big shoes to fill!' Isn't that just the mantra of people resistant to change?

I understand that. I overheard a conversation with the boys talking about buying our old house that was for sale. And the girls are really attached to our house here, the wallpaper, the Wall of Fame, the yard.

I was mulling all of this over the other day and darned if I didn't remember about those big old shoes of my dad. It was really fun to try them on for size but they sometimes caused me to stumble and trip. And when the sun came out and friends rang the bell,  I was back in my own shoes in a flash and taking off at a run.

New anythings take adjustment, and in the end the only shoes that you want to be wearing are your own.

Mar 4, 2011

The Airport

This, from the internet:

A young lady was waiting for her flight in the boarding room of a big airport. As she would need to wait many hours, she decided to buy a book to spend her time. She also bought a packet of cookies.

She sat down in the armchair of the VIP lounge at the airport, to rest and read in peace. Beside the armchair where the packet of cookies lay, a man sat down in the next seat and opened and magazine and began to read.

When she took out the first cookie, the man took out one also. She was irritated but said nothing. But she thought: what nerve!

For each cookie she took, the man took one, too. This was infuriating her but she didn't want to cause a scene. When only one cookie remained, she thought to herself: Ah! What will this man do now?

Then, the man, taking the last cookie, divided it in half and gave her one half. That was too much! She was angry now. In a huff she took her book, her things and stormed off to the boarding place.

When she sat down in the plane and looked in her purse for her eyeglasses, to her surprise her packet of cookies was there, untouched and unopened. She realized that she had forgotten her cookies were put in her purse.

She felt so ashamed. The man had shared his cookies with her, without bitterness or complaint. And now there was no way to explain herself or apologize.

There are 4 things that you cannot recover: 

The stone after it's thrown;
          The word after it's said;
                    The occasion after the loss; and
                              The time after it's gone.