Okay, So They Were Right

A good 24 inches with 4 foot drifts. Yep, it really was a blizzard.

School is closed. It took us 2 hours to dig out enough to get the car out of the garage to find that only the largest streets have been plowed. We're officially snowed in, and it's bliss.

Last night, however, had to be one of the scariest experiences in my life.

The husband, making a smart call, took the train into the city to avoid the rush hour home. He decided to wait, however, even though his office officially closed at 4:00, to take a later train home in order to avoid the mass exodus from the city. Thus, I get a call from him at 9:00 pm, during the worst part of the storm, informing me that his car is stuck outside the train station and he needs for me to pick him up.

?

!

So, the decision becomes, do I take the kids with me and risk us all getting stuck out in this mess? Or do I leave them at home and risk my husband and I getting stuck away from them. They didn't really give me any choice, insisting that they come along. I made them put on every piece of snow gear they owned, shoved a bag full of extra scarves, and had a smile when my son loaded up his pockets with granola bars, "just in case".

We barely made it out of the driveway. Then we barely made it off of our street. The wind was blowing so hard you couldn't see the next street light. Although I stuck to the most heavily traveled roads, I was terrified I'd get stuck in a snow drift. Our little downtown area is about a mile and half a way, but it seemed like 200.

My husband was glad to see us. And him being from Buffalo where this level of snow is just another Tuesday, he was like a kid in a candy store driving home, barely concerned at all that we'd get stuck out in the middle of a freakin' blizzard.

Like he said this morning when we were all nice and safe and warm, this experience was great one for the kids to remember. Remember how we had to pick Dad up in a blizzard! Woohoo. Great memories.

Battening Down the Hatches

So, they are predicting a "storm for the records" complete with blizzard warning and predictions of anywhere from 12-24" of snow here in the Chicagoland area. While the heaviest snowfall isn't supposed to really get started until later this afternoon, people have already lost their collective minds. I stopped by the grocery store this morning just to get some milk (can't run out of that or we'd risk being latte-free, an unacceptable state of affairs in our house) and the shelves were nearly empty. I ran into a neighbor who told me that, apparently, yesterday was so bad that people couldn't park their cars to even go into the Dominick's.

Now, call me a cynic, but is this really necessary? I don't know about most people but I have a pantry stocked far too full to ever give any concern that my family might starve unless we're forced to remain completely housebound for at least, like, a solid month. Sure, we'd be eating the canned salmon and stale Ritz crackers, but we're not about to risk empty bellies for quite some time. Do people really live so close to the edge that being unable to get out of the house for two or three days means they'd start eying the family pets like a cartoon pork chop?

Too, this storm might put a full stop to things for a few days, but I'm guessing by Friday the roads will be passable enough to make a grocery store run if absolutely necessary. We're not talking about Castaway levels of isolation, here. I get that the inability of delivery trucks to transport the goods necessary to restock empty shelves is a real possibility, meaning no milk or bread for a bit longer. Again, however, I doubt the stores will run completely out of food such that you wouldn't be able to find something to get you by if necessary. Take a cruise down the ethnic aisles and give couscous a try - it's fantastic.

The one pre-emptive effort I did make was to fill up the gasoline container for the snowblower, thinking we'd need the extra gas and wouldn't want to/have the ability to get to the gas stations. Unfortunately, I didn't know that you have to mix oil with the gas before using and now my husband is in a snit because he doesn't know what ratio we now have gas to oil-wise. I have to fix that before the snow starts flying. No good deed goes unpunished.

My kids are already planning for their almost-guaranteed snow day tomorrow. Hubby has cleared his schedule so he can work at home. I'm planning on doing nothing constructive since snow days are like surprise holidays and therefore should be treated as precious.

It will be interesting to look at this from the other side. I can't count how many times the media gears us up for some monster storm only to have it fizzle out. They shake their heads and tell us we were very lucky that this storm "took a turn south/north and we just barely missed it." If we end up with only three inches on the ground, I have some kids who will be mightily disappointed.

(Photo credit: Chicago Tribune archive photo, 1967)

Happy New Year and I am Still Here

Just a quick post to keep things active. The end of 2010 was unfortunately not so great, with my father and grandmother passing away within seven hours of each other. Thus my lack of posts.

But I'm back up and running. Happy New Year!

Beyond The Pale

When does a fictional character cross the line so far that he or she becomes irredeemable, assuming that said person has up to that point been a hero in the most traditional sense? It's one thing to be an anti-hero or even a dark hero, where by the very nature of the definition the character's actions and methods are already morally ambiguous. But what actions push a reader or viewer so far that they are no longer capable of forgiving that character? In fact, the reader/viewer's fundamental view of that character is forever altered, perhaps even retroactively.

The most excellent (and biggest time suck on the planet, so beware) website TV Tropes lists something called the Moral Event Horizon, a line which when crossed represents a character's descent into true evil or from hero to villain. After crossing the Moral Event Horizon, a character is marked as generally irredeemable. While a Moral Event Horizon is always a subjective thing - what behaviours one person views as reprehensible and unforgivable another person might accept given certain circumstances - it seems writers of fiction approach such an act with great intention that it be recognized as a significant point of change. You always know an MEH when you see one.

Last night on one of my favorit-est TV shows ever, Supernatural, Sam Winchester came within micrometers of the Moral Event Horizon if not actually crossed over it.

No, Thank You

I consider myself a child of the new millennium (even though I was born waayyy before the year 2000). I've adopted pretty much all forms of modern technology. I firmly believe that the laptop computer, word processing software and e-mail are the best inventions since indoor plumbing and almost equally as vital. Heck, I'd much much rather type up something on the computer than hand-write it. I get a cramp when I have to write absent-from-school notes for my kids. And I'd a thousand times over rather send an e-mail then make a phone call. I'm all about convenience and using the tools at our disposal to make our lives easier.

But I draw the line at E-Thank You notes.

My son recently attended a birthday party - invite issued via E-Vite of course. I actually have no problems with E-Vite because it's a nice way to see who else was invited to the party, who's going and who's not, which comes in very handy when you are trying to arrange carpools or to instruct your kids on how it is not polite to discuss invitations in front of others who might not have received them. I embrace the E-Vite.

But just today I got a thank-you note for the gift we gave via an E-Thank You Card issued through American Greetings electronic cards website. WTF?

Sure, the thank you card had a cute little animated doggy who barked at me. And sure, it's greener to send e-things instead of flesh-and-blood paper products because no trees were sacrificed nor landfills filled in thanking me for my gift (don't talk about the gift-wrapping used to wrap said gift).

But how much more impersonal can you get? The same E-Thank You Card was sent en masse to all of the kids who went to this party. It is in no way customized. "You" were thanked for "your gift" and "your attendance" at the party. "You" could have been a hoard of soldier ants and "your gift" could have been a bag of fake doggie poo or a brand new car.

I get it that the art of letter writing has pretty much gone the way of the Dodo bird. I'm guilty of that myself. I'd rather e-mail when I need to actually communicate with other human beings, and if I can't get away with that - ex: Holiday Cards - I will type up a generic letter, mass produce it, and send it out with perhaps a single line of personalization.

But I draw the line at mass-produced thank you notes. What a smack in the face to someone who took the time to think up an appropriate gift, drive about locating said gift and then wrap it all in an effort to make some else's special event, well, special.

My kids are always required to hand-write thank you cards. I cheat and give them a template written out that they can copy over and over - Dear So-and-So, Thank you for the X. I'm so glad you came to my party/I plan to spend the money on/I can't wait to see you... Your Friend... But at least they are required to spend some of their time sitting at the table, carefully penning out the note, putting it in an envelope, addressing it, and mailing it. They are demonstrating that they appreciate the time and effort that whoever took to get them a gift by giving back some of their own time to offer thanks.

What's even more amazing is that E-Thank You Cards are actually a full step below what I had once thought of as the rock-bottom, can-you-give-any-less-effort method of offering a Thank You short of not sending a note at all (don't get me started on people who don't acknowledge a gift at all, especially one that has been shipped and thus could ostensibly never arrive without anyone ever being the wiser). At one point, I was scandalized by the photocopied, generic "Thank you for coming to my party and for my gift" cards that we would get in the mail. And these were a full step down from the preprinted thank you cards that had a blank line to be filled in after the "Dear" and the "Thank you for" so you could sort-of customize them without having to actually do any real work. The fill-in-the-blank cards I could even excuse because usually they came from very small children who could manage to maybe write their own names, so this was as much as they could do and I can't ask for more than that. And at least with those cards you had to stuff the envelopes, address them, hunt up stamps and find an ever-more-endangered mailbox.

With E-Thank You Cards you're talking the thirty seconds to type up one message to cover everyone and his/her gift and another thirty to specify e-mail addresses and poof! you're finished. I truly cannot think of less effort needed short of sending out a blanket e-mail without even the fancy card facade. I'm sure that's coming around the corner soon.

Sad.

While I embrace an age that allows me to watch 999,999 different movies and TV shows without ever having to get off of my couch (love my new Apple TV!!), there are definite drawbacks. I can accept a fat butt, but loss of the niceties of society should be one of them.

Something Frivolous

I just wanted to have a post on the very special date of 10/10/10. It's kind of like wanting to see your odometer roll past the 99,999 miles mark.

The Complete Stranger In the Drawing Room with the Candlestick

I just finished Cold Sight by Leslie Parrish. For the first time in memory, I actually enjoyed the mystery plot far more than the romantic plot - I actually skimmed much of the relationship stuff - up until the very end of the book. However, I'm very glad I read it because I learned something very important about the art of writing good, spine-tingling suspense.

The story is about reporter Lexie Nolan who is currently in the reporter dog house after an investigation she conducted of the disappearance of close to twenty teenage girls ended nowhere. Local law enforcement is not only unhelpful but downright hostile over Lexie's suggestions that their small town is anything but safe and that if the missing girls had been from the upper class side of town rather than from the Boro - on the wrong side of the tracks - perhaps they'd take her fears that a serial killer is at work seriously. Thankfully, Lexie has an extremely smart and understanding boss, and when he receives a tip about some human remains found just outside of town, he insists that Lexie get back on the case, especially since another girl, Vonnie, has just gone missing and there still might be time to help her.

Stuck at a dead end and with no help at all from the police chief, Lexie decides to seek out the help of disgraced psychic Aidan McConnell, a man who hates reporters on principle and based on his own bad experiences. After a search for a missing boy ended tragically, Aidan has determined never again to use his gifts as a means to find anyone since he doesn't want to be responsible for anyone else's fate or pain. At first he flat out refuses to even speak to Lexie, but slowly he finds himself compelled to help find the missing girl.

As Lexie and Aidan begin to dig into the town's dark history, they learn that the disappearance of teenage girls is only the tip of the iceberg. Prominent and supposedly upstanding citizens of the community have been engaging in acts of unspeakable evil for decades, and it appears that those missing girls are, indeed, the victims of a serial killer left to attack again and again. Lexie and Aidan race against the clock to solve the mystery while Vonnie's future becomes more and more uncertain.

Okay, going forward there are very mild SPOILERS, but if, given that this is a romantic suspense book and thus, by nature, builds on suspense and reader ignorance, those who don't want any ideas of what happens should stop reading now.

Okay, Thanks?

My blog has been included on this list of "50 Best Blogs for Creative Writers" at bestcollegesonline.com. I don't know how I ranked inclusion, but given the company I keep is Paperback Writer and Pocket Full of Words, I certainly won't ask questions. I check both of those blogs on a daily basis and recommend them highly as places for great advice on the art of writing.

I'm more excited to check out the other links on list. I'm always happy to find resources for writing advice. Bits and pieces here and there really add up.

The Freaks Come Out Again

First, read this.

*sigh*

One of my favorite movies is The American President, and one of my favorite scenes in the movie is when President Andrew Shepard (aka, Michael Douglas) gives a speech in front of the press in which he delivers a major smackdown to a Senator Bob Rumson (aka Richard Dreyfuss) who has been publicly maligning his character. In this speech is this bit that I love:

America isn't easy. America is advanced citizenship. You've got to want it bad, because it's going to put up a fight. It's going to say "You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil. Who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours."

So, while I fully understand on an intellectual level that Mr. Scroggins has a right to believe whatever he wants and to express that opinion in whatever way he wants, it sure is hard to remember what it means to be an American especially when the street is only running in one direction. If I have to respect his right to not read something that he finds offensive (?!?), then why doesn't he have to respect my right - and the right of every other American - to read whatever we choose?

The nice thing about that above little snippet: As Americans, we have to respect our fellow countrymen's rights. However...

...we don't have to respect them as people. Which is a good thing because my respect for Mr. Scroggins is in the negative numbers. Clearly he has never read Speak, the book he is trying to have banned, because he would know that it is about as far from pornography as it is possible to get. How dare he judge something he himself has never read and then attempt to enforce that judgment on others?

...we don't have to like people like Mr. Scroggins. Which is a good thing because it is fundamentally impossible for me to like anyone who presumes to tell me what to do, what I can or can't read, that I'm a bad person because I don't share the same beliefs. Or a man who insists that he knows better than I do what is right for my children and would deny them anything that is their right to have, including the right to read whatever they want. People have gone to war to protect the rights of their children.

...we are allowed to form opinions about people such as Mr. Scroggins and his beliefs and express them on blogs such as this and in letters to the editor and in any way that makes our voices louder than his. Yay free speech!

...we are allowed to employ our own religious beliefs and tenants to come to the conclusion that Mr. Scroggins does not represent the true spirit of Christianity, that he clearly has no clue What Jesus Would Do, and that what goes around comes around, Karma is a bitch, and St. Peter has made note of this and will most definitely have words with Mr. Scroggins when he goes knocking on those pearly gates.

...we are allowed to speculate what kind of psychological issues Mr. Scroggins must suffer given that he equates the brutal horror that is rape with the titillating nature of pornography. I'm sorry, Mr. Scroggins, for the traumas you must have suffered in your past that have given you such a twisted and unhealthy view of human sexuality. I also ask you to stay very far away from my family and friends.

...we are allowed to ask what kind of person could call himself moral when he advocates the blame-the-victim mentality that causes rape victims to remain quiet about a violent, cruel crime committed against them. We are allowed to worry about the women in Mr. Scroggins life knowing that he would show them the same lack of compassion and human empathy should they ever - God forbid - suffer such a horror.

...we are allowed to call Mr. Scroggins un-American and question his patriotism. Banning books is about as un-American as you can get. It goes against everything we stand for - freedom of people to determine what is best for themselves and their families as long as they do not hurt or infringe upon the rights of others. With his crusade to ban Speak and other books, he's stomping all over my rights.

...we are allowed, in fact, to imply that Mr. Scroggins' thinking is far more in-line with those of members of the Taliban and Al Qaeda given that he proposes nothing less than a government and legal system based on a slate of fundamental religious "laws". Gah! What's next, Mr. Scroggins? You planning to make your fortune selling burkas?

 ...we are allowed to read Speak and to encourage our teens to read Speak. I own a copy and when my daughter is a bit older and more mature, I will encourage her to read it.

And in that way, we will be victorious over petty tyrants such as Mr. Scroggins and his posse of fellow book banners.

God Bless America.

Write Like You're Dying

I sometimes wonder what my family would do with all of my writing things if I suddenly died.

My husband is generally not the nostalgic type, and despite my certainty that he would be sad about my passing, I can't imagine him holding on to my writing stuff as some sort of shrine or tribute to my memory. He hates clutter and I would suspect he'd sweep the contents of my shelves into the garbage without a thought, although I'd at least hope he'd go for recycling all of the paper and giving the empty binders to Goodwill or something.

I wonder if anyone - my kids or my mother - might take the time to read my notes or the pages of various manuscripts that I've printed out. I have everything very nicely organized, with each story idea in its own binder or folder. I wonder if they'd be able to understand my plans or make enough sense out of my notes and scribbles that they'd be able to see what story I'd wanted to tell. Maybe they'd shake their heads sadly and determine that I'd been completely delusional about ever thinking I could be published. I like to think they'd shake their heads sadly and think what a waste it was that I never finished what I'd started or that I didn't have the chance to get all of those stories out of my brain and onto paper.

As morbid as this line of thinking is, I've been doing it more recently because the uncertainty of life has been smacking me in the face. My father is currently undergoing treatment for leukemia, a battle he's been fighting for almost a year now. Cancer is one illness that had never struck my family until now, so I'm getting my first taste of how this disease completely and totally takes over your life. Plans implode and intentions for projects disappear in a poof. Between the constant exhaustion and the side effects from the drugs and the trips to the doctor and the time spent in the hospital, there simply isn't time or energy to do much other than survive the day.

To punctuate this reality, the gals over at Smart Bitches posted a tear-jerking video made by an Australian man who has cancer as a birthday gift for his wife. I was so moved by the video that I found his website and am determined to follow him as he fights for his life. Hard to believe I could care so much about what happens to a complete stranger, but my heart goes out to him and his family, and I pray for his recovery.

Finally, Adele over at Persnickety Snark recently posted about her frustrations and despair over the status of her writing, and I find that her thoughts very closely echo my own. Between a lack of discipline and a crisis of confidence, I'm doubting my ability to ever become a successful writer. It's very embarrassing to have friends and family ask me about my writing and to have no good news or even a decent excuse as to why it's going so slowly other than that I'm a slacker.

So I think about all of those partials sitting in various stages on my shelves or residing in the folders on my laptop's hard drive and I think what a shame it would be if something happened that I couldn't finish all of the things I started. Or if all of those stories in my head never got told and died along with me. Surely I don't think that I would be changing the world by putting them on paper, but how sad if I didn't at least try to share them in some way, to leave behind that part of me as some sort of legacy for my kids.

Clearly the gods are conspiring to remind me that the time we have is limited, and waiting until tomorrow is a risky thing to do because you never know what's going to come at you. If for no other reason than to leave behind stuff that my husband might be reluctant to toss, I need to finish what I start.

I Stand Alone

True confession time: I did not absolutely love The Hunger Games.

Not to say I didn't like it. But I didn't love it. I don't think it's the best Young Adult book ever written.

And...*taking a deep breath*...I might not read Mockingjay.

Perhaps the problem was that I read HG right after I read Graceling, which I absolutely adored. In comparison between the two, I prefer Graceling across the board. I like Katsa better than Katniss. I got tingles over the Katsa/Po romance whereas I honestly don't care who Katniss ends up with, Peeta or Gale (although I'm leaning towards Gale). I prefer the imaginary world of the Seven Kingdoms over the dystopia of Panem. The villain in Graceling was a thousand times scarier than the anonymous population of The Capitol.

And I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat during most of Graceling whereas I had a hard time accepting the premise as a whole of HG. Somehow the idea of an oppressive, cruel government that actually gets away with making its citizens sacrifice their children to death doesn't inspire enough suspension of disbelief for me. The entire time I was reading HG, I kept thinking of the short story by Shirley Jackson, The Lottery, which more effectively portrayed the concept of random selection of a human sacrifice, IMO.

Perhaps HG was doomed to fail for me because of all of the hype surrounding it. My daughter has read both HG and Catching Fire and loved both. Not to mention all of the internet chatter. My expectations were incredibly high and practically impossible to meet. Like I said, I did like HG. It's well written and compelling. It just didn't send me into a frenzy.

I'm about a third of the way through Catching Fire, and at this point, I just don't see myself finishing it. I'll pick up Mockingjay for my daughter, but I might not read it myself. I feel kind of guilty about this, as if by reading HG I committed to the series as a whole and if I don't see it all the way through, I'm some kind of quitter. Or perhaps I'm holding out hope that once I've finished the entire trilogy, the story as a whole will benefit from some amount of synergy.

On a different topic: I found something quite disturbing in my library the other day - this book: Twilight and History by Nancy Reagin.

Are you kidding me?

Okay, I get that the Twilight saga is a pop culture phenomenon. I get that many people love the books passionately, and I'll even admit to enjoying the first book. The movies are entertaining, and no one should feel guilt in admitting that she (or he) has gotten caught up in the Team Edward/Team Jacob debate. Whatever floats your boat.

But the idea that this series is being treated as some kind of literary classic worthy of serious research and discussion kind of turns my stomach.

A Bad Thing I Think

My new obsession is the video for Eminem's song, "Love the Way You Lie." I'm not going to post it here directly for fear the video will be pulled, but you can find an article with the vid in it at EW.com.

I first heard this song in the car, and I was captured by Rihanna's haunting chorus. I figured out pretty easily that it was Eminem doing the rap because he always sounds so angry. But as I listened to the actual lyrics, I was horrified. The song is about domestic violence and is very intense.

Then I came across the EW article and actually watched the video. Oh my god. I'm am utterly transfixed by it. I can't tell you how many times I've watched it.

The question posed - does this video glorify domestic violence - is so very valid. Despite the horror of the situation being depicted in both the song itself and the video, the images of Megan Fox and Dominic Monaghan are very compelling, very sexy and do in a way glorify DV by almost excusing it as a by-product of intense passion and all-consuming love. When I imagine the stereotype of a DV situation, it certainly doesn't feature a Hollywood-beautiful couple or the desperate love-making in between the bouts of beating the crap out of each other. Heck, my imaginings don't usually include any "each other" in it always seems to be the husband/boyfriend doing most of the beating. When I hear the words "domestic violence" in the news or other real-world situations, my first and only reactions are sadness, disgust and outrage. So why, then, doesn't this video evoke those same feelings?

Funny, though, how too often it's easy to excuse violence as a symptom of great passion. This video and song makes me think of another violence-turns-to-sex scene. In the sixth season episode "Smashed" of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Spike and Buffy are battling it out with no holds barred when things take a sudden turn. The subsequent heat between them is absolutely electric. I know it's very wrong to find anything about that scenario acceptable - and I certainly do not excuse, condone or accept DV in any real-world situation - but I can't help myself for liking that scene so very much.

I honestly don't understand why.

Because I Couldn't Care More

This video warmed my heart immensely. The whole mis-saying of the phrase "she/he/you/I couldn't care less" drives me bonkers.

Holy Cow

I just finished reading Kristin Cashore's Graceling. I'm kind of numb. This book was amazing. A can't-put-it-down, forget all things in real life so I can keep reading, want to pick it up and reread it immediately stunner. And the shame of it is, it's been sitting on my TBR shelves for over a year.

I won't even go into the details here since there are a gazillion reviews out there. Just to say, add me to the list of people who can't recommend this book highly enough. It's just hit my top 10 best books I've ever read list.

The Illusive Nature of Some Good UST

I've discovered a new show this summer. It's a new show to everyone and so I've jumped on board at the beginning, but I hope a lot of people like it enough that it goes on for many many season. The show is Covert Affairs and it airs on Tuesday nights on the USA network. It's a lot like my other favorite USA show, Burn Notice, with great characters, a premise I like, and is overall, I find, very enjoyable.

The show follows new CIA operative Annie Walker. Played by the very pretty Piper Perabo, Annie has just graduated from CIA training on The Farm and is now working in the Domestic Protection Department, which I have to assume is a completely fictional division of the CIA. Ostensibly, the DPD handles cases in which people of CIA interest (read: bad guys, terrorists, arms dealers, spies from enemy countries, etc.) threaten the US directly. Whatever. I'm good with just keeping it at Annie is a new spy.

What keeps CA from being Alias 2.0 is Annie's rookie status. She's learning on the job, and it's fun to watch her fumble around a bit. Piper wears an almost perpetual look of amazement and questioning which gives Annie an additional air of confusion and niavete. But she's smart and quick and manages to get out of most jams by using her brains and her training.

Honestly, though, what keeps me waiting anxiously for Tuesday nights in Christopher Gorham's exquisite character, Auggie Anderson. I was not an Ugly Betty fan, nor did I watch Kyle 2.0, so Chris Gorham is a new find for me. He's beyond adorable, and he's my new TV crush.

No Sequel Necessary

Today on the trip to take my son to camp, we listened to the audio book, Hatchet by Gary Paulson. I very much enjoyed the story, so much so in fact that even after dropping my son off, I found I couldn't wait an entire week when I picked him up again to listen to the rest of the tale. I'd checked the audio book out of the library thinking he might like it (I'm forever trying to find books he will like) and that I would probably have to suffer through it, but it turns out this is a great read for all ages.

The story revolves around a 13 year old boy named Brian who finds himself stranded in the Canadian wilderness after the pilot who is flying Brian to visit his newly divorced father suffers a heart attack and dies. All alone, lost, badly battered from the plane crash and with nothing more than a small hatchet his mother had given him, Brian has to figure out how to survive. Somehow he has to manage to find water and food, build a shelter, and protect himself from wild animals ranging from what at first seems like a harmless skunk all the way up to a black bear and even a mean moose. Through the experience, Brian comes to learn that the only one he has to rely on is himself but perhaps that's enough.

The story is fabulously told, although Paulson tends to repeat words and phrases for effect which I think would be fine when reading (your eyes would just skip over those repetitions, I imagine) but that tend to become tiresome when read out loud. Too, a sort of mini sub-plot involving Brian's parents' recent divorce and the fact that Brian had witnessed his mother kissing another man and was keeping this horrible secret kind of led nowhere and felt wholly intrusive to the main story. Still, the fabulous actor Peter Coyote narrated, and his gravely voice really fit the rough story, and by the time it was over I found a running parallel between Brian's journey and the journey all mankind seems to have taken from the discovery of fire all the way through modern times.

The rest of this entry after the break contains discussion that would SPOIL the ending of Hatchet, so if you don't want to be SPOILED (and I recommend not being spoiled), then stop reading now. Stand warned - SPOILERS AHEAD!

A New American Hero

I've been reading many news articles about California's U.S. District Court Judge Vaughn Walker's recent overturning of Proposition 8, the ban on same-sex marriages. I'll state right now, up front, that I find Walker to be a true hero. His arguments are well thought out and articulated and nail the situation on the head. Good on him. Proposition 8 is not only mean-spirited and an unapologetic expression of homophobia which should cause all of those who voted in favor of it to hang their heads in shame for such malice toward their fellow human beings, it was truly pointless. As Judge Walker stated, this Proposition benefits no one in any proven way and serves only to validate the delusional superiority its proponents obviously feel.

Seriously, I would love to know exactly what Prop 8 folks think to gain by this law. Are they worried that if gay people can marry, somehow they will get less of the pie? Will their homes be taken from them? Will their children starve? Will they lose their jobs, will they begin to bald, will their pets run away and never come home? Will the love that they feel for their own spouse and vice versa disappear in a puff of smoke or become meaningless? Do they think that love and marriage are a limited commodity and if gay people are allowed to take their fair share, there will be less to go around for the rest of us? Like, if ten same-sex couples get married, that means that ten hetero couples can't? How very self-interested and egomaniacal of them.

I have yet to read a single pro-Prop 8 viewpoint that in any way explains why or how approval of same-sex marriage affects traditionally married people. Or why it's any of their business in the first place. Rather than putting so much money, energy, ire and hair-rending over whether two guys or two girls get married, an event that can surely have no direct affect on their lives in any way, why don't all of those Prop 8 cheerleaders shake their pom poms over the disgraceful state of America's educational system or solving the growing energy crisis. Why not do something that will actually result in positive change for everyone involved?

Too, I would say to those hetero-married couples who spew their propaganda about Prop 8 being the way to maintain the sacredness of marriage, once you all get it 100% perfect, then I'll listen to what you have to say. When all hetero marriages never end in divorce, when there is never any spousal or child abuse or neglect, when hetero-couple children all get perfect grades, never get into trouble, and go off to college to become perfect citizens of the world, when there is no alcohol or drug abuse, no cheating, no murder/suicides found within any hetero marriage, then I think it's fair that we let them determine what is necessary to make a perfect, socially desirable union between two consenting people. Until that time, stop throwing rocks around your glass houses.

What really strikes me in everything I read is pro-Prop 8 people who make the argument that this ban was "desired" by the majority as proven by its passing after a democratic vote, therefore no judge should have the power to overturn what the majority so obviously wanted. To which I say, wha - TF? I'm sorry, what country is this that we live in? United States of the Taliban where the morals of some can be inflicted on the whole by virtue of enough bullying?

First of all, people seem to be forgetting that America is not a true Democracy but rather a Republic (and thank god for that). In order to protect individuals and minority groups from the Tyranny of the Majority, the Founding Fathers put a lot of thought and planning into how to structure our government so that a large group of people could not inflict whatever they wanted on everybody else. You can find a very good (and highly detailed) description of the differences between Democracy and a Republic here, but I for one send up an endless litany of thank yous to those old fogeys of The First Big Thirteen for getting it right.

If the whine argument of "that's what the majority wanted" held any validity, then by extension the Southern Baptist Convention could demand that the entire state of Mississippi - where it is the majority religion - convert to their belief system and, if they rallied every one of their eligible voting members, could win a "popular" vote in order to get its way. Except, dang, there's that whole pesky right guaranteed in the Constitution for religious freedom. Heck, maybe all of the hardcore fundamentalist might actually be a majority in the entire country and could put to a vote the overturning of that whole Freedom of Religion thing and, by winning that majority vote, make sure that we all become god fearing Christians.

My point is that you cannot vote on fundamental rights. That's why America is such a great place to live, a model to many countries and a place where we all brag about our liberties and freedoms. Just because a whole bunch of people want to inflict their morals and beliefs on everyone doesn't mean it will be so.

Even if none of the above were true, that "majority" is not, in truth, really a majority with any true accuracy. According to this snapshot from the US Census Bureau, the number of over-18 Californians (in other words, potential voters) is over 27 million. Only a tiny bit over half (13,743,177) of those people even voted on this issue, with the "winning majority" being a grand total of 7,001,084 people who wanted Prop 8 to pass. As far as my math skills tell me, 7 million people is not even close to half +1 of the voting population of California which would be the true majority. In truth, we all have absolutely no idea of what the "majority" wants or not since half of the people didn't bother to vote at all. All we can say with true certainty is that about 25% of Californians over the age of 18 supported Prop 8 enough to vote in favor of it. And since close to 24% of the people felt exactly the opposite, I think it's fair to to question the majority's real wishes.

Sidebar to say: Scary idea that 7 million people get to decide what rules all 27 million people must live by. A fabulous example of why it is critical to vote. Those who show up make the laws.

It will be interesting to watch this drama unfold. I'm hoping that by the time my kids have kids, homosexual people and couples will be regarded just as people. Because that's all they are. No more. Certainly no less.

Seriously? No, really, Seriously?

From ParentDish talking about baby naming trends of 2010:

The #1 fastest rising girl's name is Tenley, and that's just the tip of the iceberg. Kinley, Tinsley and Kinsley also made the top 20. Together, they point to a signature sound for the year's baby girls. Also keep an eye out for Everly, which placed two different spellings in the top 20.

For boys, the country's love affair with "-n" names is set to continue. More than half of the hottest rising boy's names end in that super-popular letter. Look for a fresh crop of surname names, too, especially luxurious ones like Sterling, St. John and Bentley.

People are really and truly giving their babies names like St. John and Tinsley?

Honestly, though, those are actually not bad when you consider the entire boys and girls lists which read like a Best Of Romance Novel Hits from the Late Great Bodice Ripping Era:

Book Swapping

About six months ago, I joined Paperback Swap. For those who've never heard about this program, it's a website devoted to helping people swap books - not only paperbacks - with other like-minded people. It's a great solution for what to do when you have a pile of books you know you will never read again yet cannot fathom throwing away.

Skip the Books, See the Movies

Okay, I owed myself a follow-up post. I saw "Eclipse - the Movie" yesterday and at the risk of coming over all self-congratulatory, I have to say that I was 100% right. The movie version was a lot more palatable than the book. In fact, to anyone who has never read any of the books but wishes to know the story, I recommend you skip the reading and just go to the movies.