I've just spent a bit of my day listening to our President outline his plan in regards to cleaning up the oily mess that BP has made of the Gulf Coast.
Let me come clean about a few things before I continue:
(1) I don't enjoy politics.
(2) I don't follow politicians.
(3) I DO believe in the power of voting.
(4) I DO educate myself on things before I check any boxes on a ballot.
(5) I don't make it a habit to watch every "town hall" meeting.
(6) I also don't spend my time listening to pundits or that sort of thing. It's just not how I would enjoy spending my time.
and
(7) I have spent enough time in the Gulf Coast to see - first hand - that it's been treated like the red-headed, left-handed step-child of this country. Furthermore, the last time I saw that area getting the short end of a barbed stick, it sickened me so much that I pretty much MADE my employer pony up money, time, and effort to respond.
So back to the President ...
I was listening - as unbiased as I could be and withholding judgement ..... right up until he said the following (and I looked this up to make sure I got it right): "My job right now is just to make sure everybody in the Gulf understands: This is what I wake up to in the morning, and this is what I go to bed at night thinking about. The spill."
Uh huh.
I can't say that I agree with that statement. Is that honestly the biggest, most important job he has? That everyone in the Gulf know he's thinking about their region? Does that stop animals and plants from being poisoned or waters from being fouled?
I would rather have heard something along the lines of "my job right now is to make sure that any need in the Gulf region with regards to this crisis, be it financially based, time based, energy based, tool based, organizationally based, education based, response based, cleanup based, prevention based ... whatever that area needs ... my job is to get those items to them today. Now." But no dice. Awwww well ...
What really got my goat though - what REALLY spun me up - was listening to all these talking heads afterwards with their "we need to get this cleaned up" and "they should just get started" and "you can clean up the beaches today", etc.
Yanno the problem with those statements? The problem is in the "we", "they", and "you" part.
The last time I heard this sort of talk, I spent 6 weeks of my life over a two-year period doing what"we", "they", and "you" said should be done. Me. I did it. I put my life on hold and got on a plane. I changed my career path and signed up for a 65% pay cut. I missed out on major family events and begged for airline miles to go there not once but six ... SIX times and you know something else? I got it done, damnit, and while we're at it hey - I didn't see your ass down there, Mr. "I have all the answers and now here's Tracy with the weather". Where the hell were you then? In fact, there's still cleanup from Katrina to be done so don't let me stop you - get going and you can still get involved in THAT disaster today.
*exhale*
So just remember ... before YOU or THEY or WE come up with these quick and easy answers to things we read about or listened to for twenty whole minutes but actually have never seen with our own eyes, make sure YOU know who the THEY is ... or WE may tell you to shut the hell up and just do it ourselves.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Lost In Translation
The following is all a dream that I had last night. NONE of this has actually happened.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
So I'm in a shop ... or a cafe, hard to say ... with one of my childhood friends. A friend that, as it turned out, was not a very good adult friend so I distanced myself from her quite awhile ago. We're in a shop/cafe buying food items ... pastas and salads and whatnot. There's an individual sitting alone at a round table in the corner and he's next to the fireplace in this shop/cafe. He's being rather a pest - being loud and obnoxious. He asks an elderly man to replace a chair at his table. The elderly man he's asked to move this chair probably weighs less than the chair but he tries to do it anyway, just to get this guy to hush up. He gives up and walks away.
My friend and I do our best to ignore this blowhard. We walk as far from his table as we can, but it doesn't work. "Hey!", he shouts, presumably at me. "Hey! You have to help me count these napkins in the holder here." Stuff like that - stuff that makes just NO sense at all. I get irritated. I turn on my heals and in a very loud, very authoritative voice, I say "You need to take a deep breath and stop. No one here wants to hear you, so just stop talking to all of us, have your meal and go away."
I turn my back on him and he trips me with a stick or something ... not "fall on my butt" tripping but enough to make me stutter-step. I've had enough, and I tell my friend I'm gonna get this guy removed from this place.
I find a manager and explain the situation. "He's wearing a red shirt with a baseball cap and he's making your customers uncomfortable. He tried to trip me. And if you don't do something about it, I will."
The manager tells me he's got it taken care of and when he turns to the table in question, it's empty. The guy is leaving - I see him walking down the street just outside of the store. The manager follows him and has him return inside, which is when I notice that this individual is blind. He's not wearing glasses or anything, but that stick was a cane and he has a seeing-eye dog.
"This can't be the guy", I say to my friend, who is mortified at my lack of sensitivity. "The guy that yelled at me ... at all of us ... wasn't blind. There was no dog. Crap! Where did he go?" I say as the manager asks me if I wanna file a formal complaint. I sigh. "Yeah, I wanna be the person that files a complaint against the blind guy. I wanna be that person", I respond with sarcasm.
Suddenly my friend says she's late to do a final walk through in her new home and - again, because this is a dream - the next thing I remember is that we're in (what I guess is) the home she's buying. We're inside the front hall next to the door that leads outside. Her child (yeah, I didn't mention children before this because this was the first I'd seen 'em, too) says "there's someone at the door" and he presses a button for what I suppose is the intercom. But he doesn't just press it, he like ... leans on it. "Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz" fills the room.
"Stop it", she says, as she smacks his hand away. And then, outta nowhere, the seeing eye dog sinks his teeth into the buzzer system and rips it out from the wall. The child yells loudly - both at surprise of what the dog did and of the noise it made -and my friend looks to me for a comment of some kind.
"Don't look at me - I wanted to turn in a blind guy for tripping me."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And then the cat woke me up.
Anyone wanna translate what all this means for me?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
So I'm in a shop ... or a cafe, hard to say ... with one of my childhood friends. A friend that, as it turned out, was not a very good adult friend so I distanced myself from her quite awhile ago. We're in a shop/cafe buying food items ... pastas and salads and whatnot. There's an individual sitting alone at a round table in the corner and he's next to the fireplace in this shop/cafe. He's being rather a pest - being loud and obnoxious. He asks an elderly man to replace a chair at his table. The elderly man he's asked to move this chair probably weighs less than the chair but he tries to do it anyway, just to get this guy to hush up. He gives up and walks away.
My friend and I do our best to ignore this blowhard. We walk as far from his table as we can, but it doesn't work. "Hey!", he shouts, presumably at me. "Hey! You have to help me count these napkins in the holder here." Stuff like that - stuff that makes just NO sense at all. I get irritated. I turn on my heals and in a very loud, very authoritative voice, I say "You need to take a deep breath and stop. No one here wants to hear you, so just stop talking to all of us, have your meal and go away."
I turn my back on him and he trips me with a stick or something ... not "fall on my butt" tripping but enough to make me stutter-step. I've had enough, and I tell my friend I'm gonna get this guy removed from this place.
I find a manager and explain the situation. "He's wearing a red shirt with a baseball cap and he's making your customers uncomfortable. He tried to trip me. And if you don't do something about it, I will."
The manager tells me he's got it taken care of and when he turns to the table in question, it's empty. The guy is leaving - I see him walking down the street just outside of the store. The manager follows him and has him return inside, which is when I notice that this individual is blind. He's not wearing glasses or anything, but that stick was a cane and he has a seeing-eye dog.
"This can't be the guy", I say to my friend, who is mortified at my lack of sensitivity. "The guy that yelled at me ... at all of us ... wasn't blind. There was no dog. Crap! Where did he go?" I say as the manager asks me if I wanna file a formal complaint. I sigh. "Yeah, I wanna be the person that files a complaint against the blind guy. I wanna be that person", I respond with sarcasm.
Suddenly my friend says she's late to do a final walk through in her new home and - again, because this is a dream - the next thing I remember is that we're in (what I guess is) the home she's buying. We're inside the front hall next to the door that leads outside. Her child (yeah, I didn't mention children before this because this was the first I'd seen 'em, too) says "there's someone at the door" and he presses a button for what I suppose is the intercom. But he doesn't just press it, he like ... leans on it. "Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz" fills the room.
"Stop it", she says, as she smacks his hand away. And then, outta nowhere, the seeing eye dog sinks his teeth into the buzzer system and rips it out from the wall. The child yells loudly - both at surprise of what the dog did and of the noise it made -and my friend looks to me for a comment of some kind.
"Don't look at me - I wanted to turn in a blind guy for tripping me."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And then the cat woke me up.
Anyone wanna translate what all this means for me?
Friday, May 14, 2010
That's Our Girl
This afternoon, I returned home from a quick run to the shops with two bags - each with tissue-wrapped items.
After awhile, I unwrapped the items and then, remembering how much cats of my past have enjoyed the treat, I placed a piece of tissue in her sleeping box in the living room. She eventually made her way over to her box, stepped into it (and onto the tissue paper, which crumpled as she set her paw on it) and looked over to us as if to say "This? Really? I have to try to sleep on THIS?"
The Awesome Boyfriend turned to me and I gave my defense. "Honest - They LOVED it!" As he left the room, he leaned down and took the tissue out ... and I have to say that the cat looked more than a little relieved.
"Fair enough", I thought as I looked at her. "You are an individual, after all, so you have your own likes and dislikes. This clearly was a dislike."
And then ... with little warning ... she stepped out of her bed, onto the tissue which lay upon the floor, and is now passed out on it. Her little feet stretched out in front of her, her tail not twitching at all. She doesn't even seem concerned at the thunder and lightning outside.
She may not be "my" cat yet but I don't think she's "his" cat anymore.
*******
(Yes, it's another cat post. Sorry ... she's just very inspiring to me apparently.)
After awhile, I unwrapped the items and then, remembering how much cats of my past have enjoyed the treat, I placed a piece of tissue in her sleeping box in the living room. She eventually made her way over to her box, stepped into it (and onto the tissue paper, which crumpled as she set her paw on it) and looked over to us as if to say "This? Really? I have to try to sleep on THIS?"
The Awesome Boyfriend turned to me and I gave my defense. "Honest - They LOVED it!" As he left the room, he leaned down and took the tissue out ... and I have to say that the cat looked more than a little relieved.
"Fair enough", I thought as I looked at her. "You are an individual, after all, so you have your own likes and dislikes. This clearly was a dislike."
And then ... with little warning ... she stepped out of her bed, onto the tissue which lay upon the floor, and is now passed out on it. Her little feet stretched out in front of her, her tail not twitching at all. She doesn't even seem concerned at the thunder and lightning outside.
She may not be "my" cat yet but I don't think she's "his" cat anymore.
*******
(Yes, it's another cat post. Sorry ... she's just very inspiring to me apparently.)
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Purr-fect Day
Currently sitting at my feet, purring so loudly that I swear she's gonna hurt herself, is the cat that I've inherited. She is the second cat in my life that I've inherited, actually. The first one noticed that I had a happy, healthy, extremely well-fed indoors only cat and thought "hmmm ... that cat has a staff member who looks like a soft touch. I'll be extra nice to her" and *bam* suddenly I found myself with an indoor cat and an indoor/outdoor cat. (In fairness, I dunno that she ACTUALLY thought that ... or thought anything at all, really. If she did think something, I'd guess it was in that kind of neighborhood, 'tho.)
This cat now at my feet wasn't asked if she wanted to live with me. In fact, she wasn't consulted. She was moved and now here she is. Often, in the quiet evening hours, the Awesome Boyfriend and I will muse aloud as we try to guess what she's thinking. Most times my guess has something to do with cat food or treats. I guess I think she's often hungry. This is based upon the vigor with which she attacks her cat-food crunchy bits and meows so impatiently whenever either of us approach the kitchen.
She has a routine, this cat at my feet. She hops onto the bed as the Awesome Boyfriend goes off to work and settles in while I let her attack my feet for about 20 minutes or so. She then follows me around the house while I get ready for the day and, by the time I'm leaving for coffee, she's settled in nicely for her morning nap on the bed. This is where I'll find her when I return from coffee. I check in on her, give her a couple of pats on her belly and ask her if she needs anything. I'll leave quietly and close the door midway so she can rest in comfort.
(If you haven't yet figured out that she's pretty spoiled, just know that dogs have "caretakers" but cats have "staff".)
Without fail, she will emerge from her nap and come see me between 12:30pm and 12:45pm. She has a few bites of crunchies ("lunch") and will then hop onto the back of the couch where the mid-lunch nap will begin. She will tire of this location and will wind up in her kitty bed in the living room and she MAY stay there. If I'm watching TV or making too much noise typing away, she'll return to the bedroom while I'll do my best to keep the peace while attending to housework.
When the Awesome Boyfriend returns from his day, she will emerge - fresh as a daisy - and will spend a few minutes meowing, sometimes urgently, at him. She will spend the evening either sleeping on the couch, or in her bed in the living room, or sometimes under our bed in the bedroom. She'll come out for kitty dinner and will still muster enough energy to sleep later that evening.
Honestly, I don't know how she manages to do it all but she sure makes it look easy. This routine she has changes at times, tho' never by all that much. All in all, it seems that she manages to spend a 24-hour period either napping, awaking from a nap, preparing for a nap, or eating in-between naps.
No wonder cats have staff. They need someone awake enough to get the daily chores done.
This cat now at my feet wasn't asked if she wanted to live with me. In fact, she wasn't consulted. She was moved and now here she is. Often, in the quiet evening hours, the Awesome Boyfriend and I will muse aloud as we try to guess what she's thinking. Most times my guess has something to do with cat food or treats. I guess I think she's often hungry. This is based upon the vigor with which she attacks her cat-food crunchy bits and meows so impatiently whenever either of us approach the kitchen.
She has a routine, this cat at my feet. She hops onto the bed as the Awesome Boyfriend goes off to work and settles in while I let her attack my feet for about 20 minutes or so. She then follows me around the house while I get ready for the day and, by the time I'm leaving for coffee, she's settled in nicely for her morning nap on the bed. This is where I'll find her when I return from coffee. I check in on her, give her a couple of pats on her belly and ask her if she needs anything. I'll leave quietly and close the door midway so she can rest in comfort.
(If you haven't yet figured out that she's pretty spoiled, just know that dogs have "caretakers" but cats have "staff".)
Without fail, she will emerge from her nap and come see me between 12:30pm and 12:45pm. She has a few bites of crunchies ("lunch") and will then hop onto the back of the couch where the mid-lunch nap will begin. She will tire of this location and will wind up in her kitty bed in the living room and she MAY stay there. If I'm watching TV or making too much noise typing away, she'll return to the bedroom while I'll do my best to keep the peace while attending to housework.
When the Awesome Boyfriend returns from his day, she will emerge - fresh as a daisy - and will spend a few minutes meowing, sometimes urgently, at him. She will spend the evening either sleeping on the couch, or in her bed in the living room, or sometimes under our bed in the bedroom. She'll come out for kitty dinner and will still muster enough energy to sleep later that evening.
Honestly, I don't know how she manages to do it all but she sure makes it look easy. This routine she has changes at times, tho' never by all that much. All in all, it seems that she manages to spend a 24-hour period either napping, awaking from a nap, preparing for a nap, or eating in-between naps.
No wonder cats have staff. They need someone awake enough to get the daily chores done.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Her Day
While I cannot say that I've seen my mom on every single Mother's Day, I can say that I've always had the choice to do so. Some years I'm sure either I was sick or sulking or traveling for work or had spent the day just prior with her - whatever the reason - I'm sure there were some years that I just, for whatever reason, did not see her on "her" day.
We were never the family where the children snuck downstairs, launched a massive effort towards making breakfast (trashing the kitchen in the process), and then all bounded in to shower my mother with flowers and burnt toast. I can't ever remember my mom still being in bed when my sister and I were awake, for one thing. But that whole "Family Circus" scene was just not who we were as a family.
My mom and I talked on the phone Friday, when I knew her present would be delivered. The first thing she talked about was that she'd decided that my calling on Friday would suffice for talking with her on Sunday. (I then had to explain to her that I have a flat-rate calling plan and, because of that, it really doesn't cost me anything additional to call her.) Next was that she was glad that both my sister and I had forgone gifts. ("Guess UPS hasn't been by yet", I thought to myself.) She made me promise that I wouldn't send her anything, so I crossed my fingers and justified my fib by qualifying it with a quietly said "else" at the end. I got the full update on how everyone was doing (dogs are well, Dad has new medical stuff going on, my sister still hates her job, etc.) and that was about it.
When I called (again) on Saturday, she was excited about what I'd sent (a signed glass vase). She was going to research the artist and was already scouting out windows it could sit in front of. She lightly "tsk"ed me for the item but I told her that it was already too late to return it so she'd have to keep it.
Anyway, as I sit in my living room writing this, I do feel a bit of melancholy. Not for not seeing her today ('tho I'll admit that'd be nice) but for not having the big "Mother's Day Breakfast in Bed" memory to smile back upon. The good news is that there are so many other memories to smile about.
We were never the family where the children snuck downstairs, launched a massive effort towards making breakfast (trashing the kitchen in the process), and then all bounded in to shower my mother with flowers and burnt toast. I can't ever remember my mom still being in bed when my sister and I were awake, for one thing. But that whole "Family Circus" scene was just not who we were as a family.
My mom and I talked on the phone Friday, when I knew her present would be delivered. The first thing she talked about was that she'd decided that my calling on Friday would suffice for talking with her on Sunday. (I then had to explain to her that I have a flat-rate calling plan and, because of that, it really doesn't cost me anything additional to call her.) Next was that she was glad that both my sister and I had forgone gifts. ("Guess UPS hasn't been by yet", I thought to myself.) She made me promise that I wouldn't send her anything, so I crossed my fingers and justified my fib by qualifying it with a quietly said "else" at the end. I got the full update on how everyone was doing (dogs are well, Dad has new medical stuff going on, my sister still hates her job, etc.) and that was about it.
When I called (again) on Saturday, she was excited about what I'd sent (a signed glass vase). She was going to research the artist and was already scouting out windows it could sit in front of. She lightly "tsk"ed me for the item but I told her that it was already too late to return it so she'd have to keep it.
Anyway, as I sit in my living room writing this, I do feel a bit of melancholy. Not for not seeing her today ('tho I'll admit that'd be nice) but for not having the big "Mother's Day Breakfast in Bed" memory to smile back upon. The good news is that there are so many other memories to smile about.
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