Can this year of interminable Republican debates end soon enough? Sing to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne":
Should Newt and Herman be forgot
And Michele and Ron Paul, too?
And Rick and Rick and Jon H, yes,
There's not much more they can do.
For Mitt is all that's left, my dear,
For Mitt is all that's left.
We'll drink a cup of bitterness
And live with what we've got.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
Mark: Happy Birthday to You
"Together wing to wing and oar to oar."
From Robert Frost, "The Master Speed"
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Gifts of the Season
I've noticed that each arriving Christmas grows a little sadder than the year before when I acknowledge those friends and family who are no longer here. Rather than dwell in the sadness, I'm reminded of the gifts that each of these loved ones gave me in their life times and for these I thank them:
Glenn Franklin George, my father, for the gift of gratitude
Margaret Wright Hewitt, my grandmother, for the gift of dignity
Myrtle George Nase, my aunt, for the gift of kindness
Marion Sullivan Straubel, my mother-in-law, for the gift of endurance
Mary Lou Lynch George, my sister-in-law, for the gift of compassion
Susan Elizabeth Bello, my friend, for the gift of courage
In this season when many of us race around buying gifts, impatient and tense, we sometimes forget that the greatest gifts of all are those that last forever.
Glenn Franklin George, my father, for the gift of gratitude
Margaret Wright Hewitt, my grandmother, for the gift of dignity
Myrtle George Nase, my aunt, for the gift of kindness
Marion Sullivan Straubel, my mother-in-law, for the gift of endurance
Mary Lou Lynch George, my sister-in-law, for the gift of compassion
Susan Elizabeth Bello, my friend, for the gift of courage
In this season when many of us race around buying gifts, impatient and tense, we sometimes forget that the greatest gifts of all are those that last forever.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Oddities
We live in strange times. Often I read the news and wonder how we got where we are--sometimes we seem far off track, and other times we seem surprisingly progressive. Here's what jarred me this week:
That a billionaire who owns the New Jersey Nets will run against Vladimir Putin for president of Russia.
That the Durham Public Schools website posted crucial parent information initially only in Spanish.
That somehow it's OK that the secretary of health and human services, Kathleen Sibelius (acting on behalf of Barack Obama), can overrule F.D.A. scientists and researchers.
That American military base schools are not subject to "No Child Left Behind" (George Bush) or "Race to the Top" (Barack Obama)--and that their students perform better than peers at regular public schools.
That it's still not OK to eat raw chocolate chip cookie dough, even when you make it yourself.
That our love for dangerous and violent sports--especially football and ice hockey--isn't all that different from that which drove Roman Colosseum fans centuries ago.
That advocates for the Keystone XL oil pipeline include TransCanada employees Paul Elliott and Gordon Griffin, both friends of Hillary Clinton--who, in her role as secretary of state evaluates the proposal and recommends for or against it.
That Michele Bachmann's husband Marcus has a Ph.D.
That nasty Newt Gingrich has a shot at Iowa.
That we're still dealing with voter suppression efforts after all these years, and that--fortunately--Attorney General Holder understands the danger.
That a billionaire who owns the New Jersey Nets will run against Vladimir Putin for president of Russia.
That the Durham Public Schools website posted crucial parent information initially only in Spanish.
That somehow it's OK that the secretary of health and human services, Kathleen Sibelius (acting on behalf of Barack Obama), can overrule F.D.A. scientists and researchers.
That American military base schools are not subject to "No Child Left Behind" (George Bush) or "Race to the Top" (Barack Obama)--and that their students perform better than peers at regular public schools.
That it's still not OK to eat raw chocolate chip cookie dough, even when you make it yourself.
That our love for dangerous and violent sports--especially football and ice hockey--isn't all that different from that which drove Roman Colosseum fans centuries ago.
That advocates for the Keystone XL oil pipeline include TransCanada employees Paul Elliott and Gordon Griffin, both friends of Hillary Clinton--who, in her role as secretary of state evaluates the proposal and recommends for or against it.
That Michele Bachmann's husband Marcus has a Ph.D.
That nasty Newt Gingrich has a shot at Iowa.
That we're still dealing with voter suppression efforts after all these years, and that--fortunately--Attorney General Holder understands the danger.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Hysterical Mothers
In her book, Overtreated: Why Too Much Medicine is Making Us Sicker and Poorer, Sharon Brownlee analyzes the shortcomings of American medical care. It's an excellent book for lots of reasons, though I was most struck by one doctor's comments.
Cyndra Mogayzel, a primary care physician no longer in practice, operated a successful inner-city clinic in the 1990s largely, she believes, because she took the time to listen to patients. As such, she became expert at handling "hysterical mothers," about whom she has this to say:
"A quote 'hysterical mother' is one of three things. . . One, her kid is really sick and nobody is listening to her. If you think something is wrong with your kid, and nobody is listening, nothing makes you crazier. Two, her kid isn't sick and nobody has bothered to take the time to explain to her what's going on and why she doesn't need to worry. Or three, she is stressed for some other reason--divorce, domestic violence, financial problems--and you need to know what's going on in order to properly care for and protect the child."
Having felt like a hysterical mother more than once, I wish that Dr. Mogayzel could impart her wisdom to her former colleagues. For I find that even doctors who are mothers have dismissed me and my concerns to the detriment of my children's health.
The myth of the all-knowing doctor is simply that. Who observes a child more closely: a mother or a doctor? It seems like a silly question, yet our health care is predicated on a belief that a doctor's 5-minute (at most) interaction with a child yields more information than a mother's 24/7 observation.
No wonder we're crazy. The experts write us off.
Next time you see a hysterical mother, or feel like one yourself, think twice. It's the system that's crazy.
Cyndra Mogayzel, a primary care physician no longer in practice, operated a successful inner-city clinic in the 1990s largely, she believes, because she took the time to listen to patients. As such, she became expert at handling "hysterical mothers," about whom she has this to say:
"A quote 'hysterical mother' is one of three things. . . One, her kid is really sick and nobody is listening to her. If you think something is wrong with your kid, and nobody is listening, nothing makes you crazier. Two, her kid isn't sick and nobody has bothered to take the time to explain to her what's going on and why she doesn't need to worry. Or three, she is stressed for some other reason--divorce, domestic violence, financial problems--and you need to know what's going on in order to properly care for and protect the child."
Having felt like a hysterical mother more than once, I wish that Dr. Mogayzel could impart her wisdom to her former colleagues. For I find that even doctors who are mothers have dismissed me and my concerns to the detriment of my children's health.
The myth of the all-knowing doctor is simply that. Who observes a child more closely: a mother or a doctor? It seems like a silly question, yet our health care is predicated on a belief that a doctor's 5-minute (at most) interaction with a child yields more information than a mother's 24/7 observation.
No wonder we're crazy. The experts write us off.
Next time you see a hysterical mother, or feel like one yourself, think twice. It's the system that's crazy.
Monday, December 5, 2011
December Landscape: Bark
Now the the leaves have dropped and the flowers have died (except for that beautiful rose), what's left?
The bark of the river birch sheds like a stripper. Up and down its lanky trunk, it produces a flaky parchment that you can actually write on--and roll into a scroll. It's not hard to imagine the writings of ancient people.
This cherry tree is bleeding. A fungus might have attacked it, though it's probably suffering from the concrete pour that invaded its space earlier this year. A hardy tree, it will survive. The squirrels and birds love its cherries. We do, too, with plenty of sugar.
Crepe myrtle bark is often smooth. Here it reminds me of the comment a neighbor made 22 years ago when she peered inside my daughter's stroller and said--in a deep, southern drawl--"I just love bald-headed babies."
Is it me, or do these crepe myrtle branches look like the back side of a human body turned upside-down? A blotchy human body at that. Skin and bark, bark and skin--we're more closely related than I thought.
We end, of course, with the bark of the oak, our country's national tree. Not particularly interesting, as the others are, but rather ordinary. And gray. Like so many of us, and like how we feel as winter sets in.
The bark of the river birch sheds like a stripper. Up and down its lanky trunk, it produces a flaky parchment that you can actually write on--and roll into a scroll. It's not hard to imagine the writings of ancient people.
This cherry tree is bleeding. A fungus might have attacked it, though it's probably suffering from the concrete pour that invaded its space earlier this year. A hardy tree, it will survive. The squirrels and birds love its cherries. We do, too, with plenty of sugar.
Crepe myrtle bark is often smooth. Here it reminds me of the comment a neighbor made 22 years ago when she peered inside my daughter's stroller and said--in a deep, southern drawl--"I just love bald-headed babies."
Is it me, or do these crepe myrtle branches look like the back side of a human body turned upside-down? A blotchy human body at that. Skin and bark, bark and skin--we're more closely related than I thought.
We end, of course, with the bark of the oak, our country's national tree. Not particularly interesting, as the others are, but rather ordinary. And gray. Like so many of us, and like how we feel as winter sets in.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Sex Scandals
Regardless of what happens to Herman Cain's presidential aspirations as he fights off the latest accusation, the real sex scandal of our time has nothing to do with him. Nor with any of the other politicians--pick your favorites--who have slept with someone other than their spouse. Really, we ought to grow up. These are dalliances.
The real scandal is something altogether different and goes far beyond sexual indiscretion into the deviant world of child predation.
Though Penn State football has moved off the front pages for awhile, the men's basketball team at Syracuse is poised to take its place. There, long-time associate coach Bernie Fine was fired on Sunday for child sexual abuse allegations, and we await the fate of others around him.
We have a curious relationship with our children. On the one hand, we adulate them, celebrating their every accomplishment however insignificant. On the other hand, we desert them, averting our eyes from the reality of predators among us.
On Monday night Syracuse head coach Jim Boeheim defended his support for his friend. Then he added, "What people do outside the program, I have very little if any control over adults." This is a sorry statement, whether or not Bernie Fine is found guilty. It's the thinking that has gotten us where we are today.
True, we may not be able to stop the impulsive behavior of predators. But surely we can find ways to keep them away from our children.
The real scandal is something altogether different and goes far beyond sexual indiscretion into the deviant world of child predation.
Though Penn State football has moved off the front pages for awhile, the men's basketball team at Syracuse is poised to take its place. There, long-time associate coach Bernie Fine was fired on Sunday for child sexual abuse allegations, and we await the fate of others around him.
We have a curious relationship with our children. On the one hand, we adulate them, celebrating their every accomplishment however insignificant. On the other hand, we desert them, averting our eyes from the reality of predators among us.
On Monday night Syracuse head coach Jim Boeheim defended his support for his friend. Then he added, "What people do outside the program, I have very little if any control over adults." This is a sorry statement, whether or not Bernie Fine is found guilty. It's the thinking that has gotten us where we are today.
True, we may not be able to stop the impulsive behavior of predators. But surely we can find ways to keep them away from our children.
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