The Stone's Colossal Dream

Friday Nostalgia

2008-10-10T09:18:00.002-04:00

This Occurred to Me During the Debate

2008-10-09T22:32:00.002-04:00

Of course, Uncle Fester had a much better temperament.

Yup.

2008-10-08T08:53:00.001-04:00

Back in 2000, He Said Something True

2008-10-06T18:47:00.004-04:00

McCain's own words, commenting on The Bush/Rove tactics against him back-when:

"Sooner or later people are going to figure out that if all you run is negative attack ads you don't have much of a vision for the future, or you're not ready to articulate it."

Less than a Month to Go

2008-10-06T07:53:00.001-04:00

One of my favorite Stephen Dobyns poems:

Where We Are
(after Bede)

A man tears a chunk of bread off the brown loaf,
then wipes the gravy from his plate. Around him
at the long table, friends fill their mouths
with duck and roast pork, fill their cups from
pitchers of wine. Hearing a high twittering, the man

looks to see a bird—black with a white patch
beneath its beak—flying the length of the hall,
having flown in by a window over the door. As straight
as a taut string, the bird flies beneath the roofbeams,
as firelight flings its shadow against the ceiling.

The man pauses—one hand holds the bread, the other
rests upon the table—and watches the bird, perhaps
a swift, fly toward the window at the far end of the room.
He begins to point it out to his friends, but one is
telling hunting stories, as another describes the best way

to butcher a pig. The man shoves the bread in his mouth,
then slaps his hand down hard on the thigh of the woman
seated beside him, squeezes his fingers to feel the firm
muscles and tendons beneath the fabric of her dress.
A huge dog snores on the stone hearth by the fire.

From the window comes the clicking of pine needles
blown against it by an October wind. A half moon
hurries along behind scattered clouds, while the forest
of black spruce and bare maple and birch surrounds
the long hall the way a single rock can be surrounded

by a river. This is where we are in history—to think
the table will remain full; to think the forest will
remain where we have pushed it; to think our bubble of
good fortune will save us from the night—a bird flies in
from the dark, flits across a lighted hall and disappears.

Changing the Subject

2008-10-05T13:29:00.004-04:00

Tired of my harping on politics? Let's move on to a subject infinitely more exciting--a product I'm happy to share. As the keeper of a small petting zoo, I've had opportunity to try a variety of cage liners and bedding. Anyone who's been in my house can attest to the lack of success I've had as far as odor control. Go into any lo-rent strip mall pet store and that's what my house smells like. Or did, rather. Fresh World is exactly as it says. It's absorbent, less messy, more economical, environmentally friendly, and it controls the odor. If you have hamsters or guinea pigs, you should try it.

She Can Still Afford Starbucks

2008-10-05T10:32:00.004-04:00

I'm sure you've seen this already--Palin misquoting Madeleine Albright:

The actual quote, a little different:

But let's just go with it either way--quote or misquote--and I agree. I too believe there's a special hell reserved for women who fail to help and support other women. And there's a special seat in that special hell for women who knowingly hurt other women, whether it be by dating married men or by campaigning against equal pay, choice, and healthcare for everyone.

Palin is the Anti-Woman.

Can't Think of a Title

2008-10-04T10:35:00.004-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about the stupid video of those kids singing the Obama 'Hope' song, especially as I've read the Rigid Right's comments re it on various blogs and religulous websites. I thought it was stupid and misguided, but the comparisons to the Communists and the Nazis are laughable. The world--this country in particular--is full of opportunistic parents who would involve their kids in such a scenario. But we're not teaching this song in our schools, etc.

How 'bout this? How about we stop brainwashing our kids altogether? And while we're at it, why don't we stop exploiting them and allowing them to exploit themselves? Whether it's to promote god, the flag, ideology, a product, or a team?

In other words, we've got bigger fish to fry:

Friday Nostalgia

2008-10-03T08:12:00.003-04:00

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. (George Santayana)

For Me, This Never Gets Old

2008-10-02T08:39:00.001-04:00

Who Doesn't Like to Play With Dolls?

2008-10-01T08:18:00.003-04:00

This morning, the Amputee-of-Today Show did a report on Reborn Dolls and the women who collect them. I was stunned by the insanity. (I mean, get a puppy, for crying out loud! At least it's alive.) So I went to Youtube to find a clip for you.

I was still sitting in my little pile of shock, thinking CRAZY BROADS, when I remembered an article I read on Salon a while back. Oh yes, the men have these ladies beat.

***UPDATE***Case in point:

Rules for Buying Gas Post-Hurricane

2008-09-29T12:48:00.004-04:00

If you'll recall, last year I wrote a list of rules for grocery shopping during the holidays. After my hour-long wait for gas yesterday, I feel compelled to make a similar list for Buying Gas During the Fuel Crisis:

1. Do not wait until you're on "Empty" to start looking for gas. If you run out while waiting in line, and have to push your car to the pump, not only do you slow things down but you also demoralize everyone who has to watch you push.

2. Do not get into an hour-plus gas line with your kids in the car. If the wait isn't abuse in itself, your smacking them around because they misbehave--once they get tired/hungry/need to pee--is.

3. If you disregard rule #2, do NOT leave your car parked in front of the pump while you take the kids in to buy Ding-Dongs and apple juice and take them to the restroom.

4. If you leave your car near the back of the line and stroll up to the parking lot to check out the progress (or lack of), report back to those in their cars as you walk back down to your vehicle. We are bored and need the distraction. If there's nothing to report, sing us a song.

5. Pay with a check card or credit card.

6. Have that card ready. Don't wait until you're parked at the pump to begin searching the bottom of your purse, discarding old coupons, pennies, used tissues, mangled tampons, and melted lip gloss.

7. GET OFF YOUR CELL PHONE once you get to the pump. Do NOT do this job one-handed. Do NOT let yourself be distracted by your mom's story of how intoxicated Aunt Jo got at Cousin Martha's wedding reception.

8. Be in a hurry. At least ACT like you care that others are still suffering.

9. DO NOT CLEAN YOUR WINDSHIELD, clean out your car, or check your fluids! Unless a pterodactyl has taken a dump on the glass, you can wait until you get home.

10. No gas cans! Your grass can wait, this is no time to be riding a go-kart, and you can keep the body in the freezer until this crisis is over.

Retro in the Metro

2008-09-28T22:48:00.002-04:00

I had to wait in line for over an hour on Memorial Drive to buy gas today, so I had plenty of time to hate on everyone--the hogs in their SUVs, the losers who left their cars sitting in front of the pump while they went inside to pay CASH, the morons with kids in the car, the asswipes who needed lessons on how the pump works...

As soon as I have time, I'm going to write my RULES FOR BUYING GAS DURING A FUEL CRISIS.

A Good Man Down

2008-09-27T13:41:00.001-04:00

Nice Ass

2008-09-27T10:21:00.001-04:00

Friday Nostalgia

2008-09-26T17:29:00.001-04:00

There's More than the Amputee-of-the-Day on the Today Show

2008-09-25T12:10:00.002-04:00

There are awesome products advertised too.

I saw a commercial for this on the Today Show this morning, and it FREAKED ME OUT! All I could think about was so much peeled fruit, exposed to the air; how many fingers would have touched it before and during the arranging; the different rooms and hallways it would have passed through...

I imagined a disgruntled worker (who might have had to search the couch cushions for the kid's lunch money that morning) picturing what kind of Christmas-sweater-wearing-QVS-watching-beBotoxed person would spend $90 on such hideous fly-bait and then licking each piece of cantaloupe and sticking the grapes up his/her nose.

Sweet Baby Fay

2008-09-24T09:17:00.001-04:00

A Little Slice of my Day

2008-09-23T22:01:00.008-04:00

I had to rush home from work to help Lola with her 'Above and Beyond' project for her Target class. She started the project on Friday, and it required no fewer than three trips to the comic book store "for research." In the past, we did these assignments on poster board, but some future flugelhorn player (and his MBA parents) set the bar a little higher this year. So we had to finish putting together her Power Point presentation on Spiderman and Batman supervillains before I had to take her to softball practice at 6:45.

Biggy, who is coaching her team, met us at the park and complained about the camping shorts I'd brought him (He forgot to take a change of clothes to work) and accused me of being passive aggressive. I suggested that he was mistaken if he thought his Tiny Dancer Shoes (the cleats he bought off a clearance rack three years ago that make his feet look three inches long) looked any better with coaching shorts (WHICH WERE DIRTY ANYWAY...) Then it was off to Target to buy Lo a memory stick, because it costs more than even neon-colored poster board. Honestly, I think that was the whole appeal of the PP anyway--that the kid who did the first one brought this magic gadget in and all these little geeks-in-training had to have one.

I went looking for the cheapest memory stick I could find, considering it was going to fall out of Lola's pocket on the monkey bars and get lost in the quicksandesque pile of shredded recycled tires that probably releases more toxins than Kerr-McGee. I was in luck, though, because over by the digital cameras was a little rack of Hannah Montana and Highschool Musical memory BRACELETS that were on sale for 7.98. They looked like the yellow rubber Livestrong bands, but rather than inspiring children to persevere, these memory things came with a digi-folder full of karaoke. Score.

I knew Lola would die if I bought her Hannah Montana anything, so I grabbed the other one, paid, went to Publix to pick up a prescription and buy Jack some pop tarts, and ran home to cook Gorditas before Dad and Daughter were due from practice.

I was very proud of how smoothly the day had gone until Lola got home and asked, "Did you get it?!" I pointed to the counter where the bracelet lay, with Zack and Vanessa and Ashley--their smiling faces so tiny they might as well have been the Golden Girls. But Lo knew exactly who they were, and her face imploded upon the sight. I don't think I'd seen this kind of reaction from her since we asked her to switch to panties instead of boxers. And because we never repeated that mistake, I can't remember how long ago it happened.

I had no intention of going back to Target, but she was NOT taking that High School Musical memory bracelet ANYWHERE. I showed her how she could wear the bracelet upside down, but that didn't appease her. Her teacher would still SEE it when it was plugged in. She said she'd wait till next week to make her presentation so she could redo it on poster board.

In a brainstorming panic to avoid having to search under the beds for glue and Sharpies; the inevitable trip to Office Depot for a new ink cartridge; and the epic standing-in-the-aisle-at-Walgreens choice between green, orange, or yellow poster board, I remembered that Georgia had an old box of scrapbooking materials in her room, so I rummaged through it and found some Halloween stickers--black and white stickers of eyeballs in the dark and the word BOO in various sizes. I covered the offensive picture in those and trimmed the sides, during which time she'd calmed herself down a bit by watching Beach Patrol. When I showed it to her, she smiled as big as Hannah herself. The world was right again, and it was bedtime.

First Item on my Christmas List

2008-09-22T20:53:00.002-04:00

Thanks to Rachel, who saw this in the Skymall catalog on her flight home from Chicago.

David Byrne

2008-09-21T22:42:00.002-04:00

Biggy and I got to see him (for free!) last night at Chastain. Second row, no less. I'd never seen him live before--had never wanted to either. But, wow. What a wonderful, fun, inspiring show. Here is a man who, at 56, can rock the house and dance like a fiend--with a zen-like bearing. I even enjoyed the modern dance, which, as many of you know, usually just cracks me up/makes me want to puke.

Here is a review I read today that captures the spirit of the performance.

Jack n Loretta

2008-09-20T17:38:00.001-04:00

Still my favorite cd for the past 5 years.

Friday Nostalgia

2008-09-19T08:42:00.001-04:00

The year I graduated high school, 1981, this was the world I inherited.

Protect Your Daughters

2008-09-17T18:52:00.003-04:00

I've read so many references to McCain calling his wife a C U Next Tuesday lately, that I had to google it to get the scoop. It was a story I'd never heard. During my research, I came across another story I was unaware of.

Further Signs

2008-09-16T22:13:00.003-04:00

A couple of things have happened recently that are in the same category as looking for my cell phone while talking on my cell phone:

1. The other day, I was looking at the number of a missed call on my cell phone. I couldn't see the number clearly, so I put my glasses on, but they didn't make it any better. I took them off, cleaned them, and put them back on, trying again to make the number out. I was extremely frustrated, thinking my eyes were getting worse and, besides, my phone is a cheap piece of shit, with its scratched face and dim light... I was cursing loudly over all this and finally threw the glasses in the passenger seat, at which point I realized I'd been using my sunglasses.

2. Yesterday, our newlywed tenant (we have a basement apt) came up and asked to borrow my can opener. He told me both he and his wife were sick and could only eat soup. Unfortunately, they'd forgotten to buy a can opener. Being charitable when it's easy, I gave him mine and said they could just keep it for a couple of days, because I wouldn't need it until I made tuna casserole.

Well, I don't know what I was thinking, because I did end up needing it last night, for the hamburger casserole. But instead of bothering them, knowing they felt bad, I went next door and used my neighbor's. This afternoon, though, when I needed it to open cream of chicken for my chicken casserole (That's right), I decided to go down and ask to use mine. I grabbed the can of soup and went to knock on the door.

Mrs. Tenant opened it in her little pajamas, saw the can in my hand, and started apologizing for not bringing the can opener back. I explained, effusively, how sorry I was that she didn't feel well, and how much I hated to bother her. I said she could just let me use the can opener, and they could keep it for a while longer, or forever. I used the can to air-punctuate my sentences.

She kept looking at me and the can of soup with a funny look on her face but told me her hubby was picking up a can opener at the store, so I could have mine back. It wasn't until I got back into my kitchen that I noticed the can's BIG-ASS PULL TAB.