Yesterday was the anniversary of Bloody Sunday in Ireland. A day when the Irish were peacefully protesting in Northern Ireland and were met by a massacre, courtesy of British troops on January 30, 1972. The deaths in Derry were originally blamed on the 13 dead and 17 or more wounded protesters, but finally this past year, justice has been served and they were all proven innocent. Even a father and son were killed together, while he was crawling to the aid of his son. "And in the end, 1972 was to prove Northern Ireland’s bloodiest year by far with nearly 500 people killed," said Prime Minister David Cameron. The IRA officially disarmed in September 2005. Growing up Irish in NJ in the '50s, I remember my foster father giving the milk man extra money every week, and the whispers about how we were helping the Republicans in Ireland. And I didn't quite understand how we Democrats would want to help the Republican Army.
I was thinking about that yesterday as I watched a revolution in real time in Egypt on CNN. I wonder what will happen when they stage a "million man march" tomorrow. Will the soldiers fire at their own people? I worry for Israel, such a small spit of land in the region. Have we learned yet that we cannot export our Democracy to a culture that is not ready, and may not even want to receive it. And, the British. We managed to throw them out of our colonies, but the shadow of that empire still lingers. Gertrude Bell tried to draw lines in the sand for Arab tribesmen, and look where that got her! "Queen of the Desert" was our book club pick a couple of years back , and now coincidentally, we are reading "Cleopatra" by Stacy Schiff. Alexandria is a shining city by the sea, a seat for great thinkers in math and science and the young goddess/queen “...knew how to build a fleet, suppress an insurrection, control a currency, and alleviate a famine.” Her beauty and personality became the myth that surpassed her vast intellect. A strong and powerful woman, even the ancients didn't know what to do with her. If you are looking for a good read about Egypt, try the Cairo Trilogy by Nobel Prize winner Naguib Mahfouz. You will not be disappointed.
On a lighter note, - what a difference a couple of decades make. While visiting my MIL I gave her the link and the ability to search for my blog on Google. The key here is to add to the name "MPJ." This stands for Momma Pajamma, my nickname from the Bride. Well my MIL still somehow cannot find it, although if you're reading this now dear MIL, I will retract my statement later. And my sister in NY, bless her heart, who is still without a cell phone but using her Apple laptop like a pro, finally called her broker (which I advised her to do) so she could follow her portfolio online! I'm sure he's a little scared right now. And not only is my son blogging, but his girlfriend is too! I am so proud. Catch her at:
http://manicpixiedreamgirls.tumblr.com/
What a powerful community the internet has created. Tunisia fell by texting and Facebook helped to fuel the protesters in Cairo. I feel as if we are living at the cusp of a great time, where history unfolds immediately, in our global hand-held devices. I once asked my Mother if she went out on the street to celebrate the end of WWII. She laughed, as she did at many of my young, inane questions, and said that news traveled slowly in her day. They didn't even hear about it for a couple of days....radio was kinda new back then. Today, we get the news before the evening news has a chance to analyze it. I'm glad not to be in the news biz anymore;
"You say you want a revolution......"
Monday, January 31, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Crossing the Mason Dixon Line
Ah home! It's always a pleasure to return, and this had been a long trip. The intention was to visit our son, the rock star, in his new house. Years ago my children were told that I will no longer "help" them move, but I'm happy to help decorate. The last time I "helped" my son move, we were crossing the threshold of home to college. I'd been diagnosed with encephalitis, which we presumed was a form of West Nile. He was heading to The College of New Jersey, as I sat in the car putting steroid drops in my eyes every hour. I eventually lost some peripheral vision, which makes driving north, by myself, for some seven hours especially challenging. I got lost on the DC Beltway, even with GPS guidance, but eventually arrived at the new digs in Asbury Park, NJ. He's sharing a house with the bass player in the band, another friend and two girls. And one girl, is his girlfriend of three years! She's a sweetheart and I taught her to knit while I was there since she said she'll be having a "craft night" with the rock and roll road widows - the girlfriends left behind while the band travels to Austin to produce a new album.
The sheer joy of knowing my son cooks - well really the bass player is the cook, the girls are the sous chefs, and my son is the clean up artist - was the piece de resistance of my trip! I had a great time meeting his girl's Mom one afternoon, and promptly invited her to their new digs for dinner. The spotless kitchen was a beehive of activity. The chicken was filleted and hammered and stuffed with prosciutto, cheese and spinach. In no time we'd prepared chicken saltimboca with spaghetti and stir-fried squash. It was deliriously deliciouso! All the while I was visiting, he was mentally going through the things he had to accomplish before he left for TX, in two days. The van was still in the garage (yes, someday they'll have a big tour bus, but for now, it is what it is), and all the small details of leaving a life in suspension for two months. This is how it worked out, but I couldn't be happier. He's lived in some slightly seedy spots over the past few years, since he left college to make his dream a reality. He's even delivered pizzas for awhile. But the band was picked up by Roadrunner and the mere fact that they are producing a second album is a very big deal! Maybe my next online purchase for another MOB dress will actually be for a red carpet Grammy dress? "He's living the dream," as my husband likes to say, and I'm happy to go along for the ride!
Some thoughts on life above the Mason Dixon line: Driving is a nightmare - I could barely pull out in traffic anymore since I'm used to cars actually stopping and motioning me into a lane; Personal space is at a premium - people would downright shove and bump into me to get ahead in a line, or maybe that's my blind, or as I like to call it, my "blonde" spot?; It's better to comply than try and argue. No wait, that has more to do with visiting my big sister in NYC, who tells me she has a blueberry scone for me before bed. And after three protestations followed by recriminations, I just give in and eat the damn thing. Everyone who is the baby in their family will understand. She was absolutely lovely and generous, taking me out to eat every night. One evening we ate at a small Paris bistro on Madison Avenue, and the next I'm at a Rotary dinner in NJ with my MIL and her husband ordering fish (skate) at a Columbian restaurant....only to find out that like the "Chicken Franchise," skate was a typo and I had really ordered steak!
I didn't tell any friends I was coming since I had a limited amount of time to see family for no reason - there was no medical or emotional crisis to tend to on this trip - only fun! And I got to meet my new Great Nephew Devin, nine months old and already a rocker in his sunglasses and dimpled chin. A happier or more content baby would be hard to find. They waited a long time for this little angel, they are both in their late 40's. His Dad, my nephew, is in NY real estate, but has a jazz band on the side and they live on the lower East Side. Music runs deep in our family. I heard later my son's band, The Parlor Mob, got to meet The Bride in Nashville at midnight as they roared through town on the way to TX. She was working the late shift. The next day she was sitting at a coffee shop trying not to stare at Taylor Swift.
The band has started blogging. You can follow them at:
http://theparlormob.wordpress.com/
The sheer joy of knowing my son cooks - well really the bass player is the cook, the girls are the sous chefs, and my son is the clean up artist - was the piece de resistance of my trip! I had a great time meeting his girl's Mom one afternoon, and promptly invited her to their new digs for dinner. The spotless kitchen was a beehive of activity. The chicken was filleted and hammered and stuffed with prosciutto, cheese and spinach. In no time we'd prepared chicken saltimboca with spaghetti and stir-fried squash. It was deliriously deliciouso! All the while I was visiting, he was mentally going through the things he had to accomplish before he left for TX, in two days. The van was still in the garage (yes, someday they'll have a big tour bus, but for now, it is what it is), and all the small details of leaving a life in suspension for two months. This is how it worked out, but I couldn't be happier. He's lived in some slightly seedy spots over the past few years, since he left college to make his dream a reality. He's even delivered pizzas for awhile. But the band was picked up by Roadrunner and the mere fact that they are producing a second album is a very big deal! Maybe my next online purchase for another MOB dress will actually be for a red carpet Grammy dress? "He's living the dream," as my husband likes to say, and I'm happy to go along for the ride!
Some thoughts on life above the Mason Dixon line: Driving is a nightmare - I could barely pull out in traffic anymore since I'm used to cars actually stopping and motioning me into a lane; Personal space is at a premium - people would downright shove and bump into me to get ahead in a line, or maybe that's my blind, or as I like to call it, my "blonde" spot?; It's better to comply than try and argue. No wait, that has more to do with visiting my big sister in NYC, who tells me she has a blueberry scone for me before bed. And after three protestations followed by recriminations, I just give in and eat the damn thing. Everyone who is the baby in their family will understand. She was absolutely lovely and generous, taking me out to eat every night. One evening we ate at a small Paris bistro on Madison Avenue, and the next I'm at a Rotary dinner in NJ with my MIL and her husband ordering fish (skate) at a Columbian restaurant....only to find out that like the "Chicken Franchise," skate was a typo and I had really ordered steak!
I didn't tell any friends I was coming since I had a limited amount of time to see family for no reason - there was no medical or emotional crisis to tend to on this trip - only fun! And I got to meet my new Great Nephew Devin, nine months old and already a rocker in his sunglasses and dimpled chin. A happier or more content baby would be hard to find. They waited a long time for this little angel, they are both in their late 40's. His Dad, my nephew, is in NY real estate, but has a jazz band on the side and they live on the lower East Side. Music runs deep in our family. I heard later my son's band, The Parlor Mob, got to meet The Bride in Nashville at midnight as they roared through town on the way to TX. She was working the late shift. The next day she was sitting at a coffee shop trying not to stare at Taylor Swift.
The band has started blogging. You can follow them at:
http://theparlormob.wordpress.com/
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
A Tragedy in Arizona
I'm waiting for yet another snow storm to lock me into this house on a hill. And I've been listening to pundits and reading facebook accounts about how so and so met Congresswoman Gifford, and how could the shooter in this horrific tragedy pass an FBI background check? And all I could think about, post the VA Tech shooting which was closer to home, was "Guns!"
But first, if we must, let's talk about the young man who 'ran amok' in AZ. From all accounts he should have been flagged and hospitalized when his schizophrenia-like jargon was spilling out of his mouth and his journals and his 'you tube' videos. When will his mother go on a talk show and say she had no idea what he was up to? How many different ways will this story spin out in American life? Will more members of congress carry guns and/or hire security? Will we go back to our frontier way of life? One of the first things I heard from VA Tech students was that many wanted to get a license to carry a concealed weapon.
In my mind, the abundance and ease of acquiring guns is our national tragedy. We let the assault weapon ban run out, so now a Glock can be purchased almost as easily as a bow and arrow. And why would a hunter need such a gun? When the Bride was little and her brother was in pre-school, I carried a bunch of toy guns into a Congressman's town hall meeting in NJ. His reps didn't want to call me., but finally I said my piece, scolding him for his pro-gun lobby vote. I dragged a friend with me for moral support and we dropped the bags of toy guns at his feet. I had run a "Toy Exchange" at the local Peace Fair. I got Proctor and Gamble to donate boxes of the Snuggle Bears for my booth where I encouraged children to exchange their toy guns for bears. It was wonderfully succesful...then I wrote an OpEd about this Rep (R-Zimmer) voting to allow assault weapons to be sold. I asked how he could look at himself in the mirror. It was one of the most personally scathing articles I'd ever written. But I was proud of it and like to think I helped to unseat him in the next election, where an actual Princeton rocket scientist was elected (D-Holt).
But back to AZ. We can try and help the mentally ill, who will always be among us, by early identification and treatment. However, ask any doctor in VA if there are enough hospital beds for the mentally ill and they will say, "No." Ask any parent if mental illness is covered by their insurer. These are policy issues we can address as a nation if we see fit. As a nation, we regulate where and how our children can sit in a car...but we can't seem to regulate guns.
Gun violence is our largest public health enemy. Will Congress and our President wake up to that?
But first, if we must, let's talk about the young man who 'ran amok' in AZ. From all accounts he should have been flagged and hospitalized when his schizophrenia-like jargon was spilling out of his mouth and his journals and his 'you tube' videos. When will his mother go on a talk show and say she had no idea what he was up to? How many different ways will this story spin out in American life? Will more members of congress carry guns and/or hire security? Will we go back to our frontier way of life? One of the first things I heard from VA Tech students was that many wanted to get a license to carry a concealed weapon.
In my mind, the abundance and ease of acquiring guns is our national tragedy. We let the assault weapon ban run out, so now a Glock can be purchased almost as easily as a bow and arrow. And why would a hunter need such a gun? When the Bride was little and her brother was in pre-school, I carried a bunch of toy guns into a Congressman's town hall meeting in NJ. His reps didn't want to call me., but finally I said my piece, scolding him for his pro-gun lobby vote. I dragged a friend with me for moral support and we dropped the bags of toy guns at his feet. I had run a "Toy Exchange" at the local Peace Fair. I got Proctor and Gamble to donate boxes of the Snuggle Bears for my booth where I encouraged children to exchange their toy guns for bears. It was wonderfully succesful...then I wrote an OpEd about this Rep (R-Zimmer) voting to allow assault weapons to be sold. I asked how he could look at himself in the mirror. It was one of the most personally scathing articles I'd ever written. But I was proud of it and like to think I helped to unseat him in the next election, where an actual Princeton rocket scientist was elected (D-Holt).
But back to AZ. We can try and help the mentally ill, who will always be among us, by early identification and treatment. However, ask any doctor in VA if there are enough hospital beds for the mentally ill and they will say, "No." Ask any parent if mental illness is covered by their insurer. These are policy issues we can address as a nation if we see fit. As a nation, we regulate where and how our children can sit in a car...but we can't seem to regulate guns.
Gun violence is our largest public health enemy. Will Congress and our President wake up to that?
Monday, January 3, 2011
New Day, New Year
Happy 2011 Everyone! Hope all your dreams and schemes will come true in this new year. We had a fun New Year's Eve at the hospital gala held at Prince Michel Winery. This was the same winery that owns the barn that featured prominently at our daughter's wedding in the apple orchard. They hosted a wine tasting for our guests before the ceremony, and promptly served as a staging area for the Bride to rest and munch on some goodies before tripping down the aisle, slowly, after our beautiful flower girl. Our daughter didn't want the labels on the wine bottles to display their names, only the beautiful Blue Ridge mountain logo. Putting their names, or monograms on everything, in her universe, equals too tacky. The only thing that was personalized was the book mark we had made and inserted into every guest's hotel gift bag. Stuffed right there beside the pickle flavored potato chips! Along with the programs, my husband's printer went into overtime making the bookmarks, starting with the names of The Couple, that said "in lieu of a wedding favor," a donation has been made to the local SPCA. And speaking of the SPCA....
My plan had been to walk some of the shelter dogs on Xmas day while my other half was saving lives in the ER. It is a "no kill' award-winning shelter that tugs at my heart every time I think of it. Why is it we can listen to news of the latest war casualties coming out of our miss-guided missions in two wars without so much as a tear, while hearing about some small dog being thrown out of a car onto a freeway gives us nightmares? Once upon a time, I was quick to pick up my pen (so to speak) and address just this type of issue in my column. In fact, I've written about the futility of war, as we know it, for our local paper since moving here. But time has a strange effect on us all, and I'm afraid my days of trying to "save the world" as my Irish cousin calls it, are dwindling. The news junkie in me has been laid to rest, slowly, after the Big Move, the Loss of Vision (and temporary loss of smell), and the Wedding. Think global, act local? Or maybe just try to tackle what I can actually get my arms around - like the hunting hounds that are left there because they are not prey-driven. The "special needs dogs." Miss Bean came from this shelter, and she is love-driven, just as I am driven to love her. Even when she escapes outside the invisible fence, causing great tearing and rendering of clothes and gnashing of teeth!
The Book Club this week will be tackling Emma Donoghue's "Room." An exquisite account of being held prisoner through the POV of a five year old boy, Jack, who was born inside this cubicle. The walls of the room, this 'visible fence', take on the character of the boy's vivid imagination. His mother has created a host of activities and games to entertain and teach him. Donoghue is an Irish writer, and Jack's world is so beautifully nuanced, you come to perfectly understand why the 'real world' cannot measure up. It was a haunting read for me, laid up with the stomache flu over xmas, thanks to my vector of a husband. He says this stomache flu is, "...going around." In fact, did you know that my MIL can catch it just from talking to me on the phone?
So, instead of volunteering at the Pound, I spent the holiday reading, and recuperating from my little bug and wondering if I'll ever want to eat sushi again. Now I must go out and buy a little camera for my computer. The Bride just called me and we Skyped for the first time! Why am I so late to this party?? I could watch her eating breakfast, playing with the dogs, and showing me her orchids which have found their perfect place on her desk getting filtered light all morning.
Some people create their own prisons, and some people Skype.
My plan had been to walk some of the shelter dogs on Xmas day while my other half was saving lives in the ER. It is a "no kill' award-winning shelter that tugs at my heart every time I think of it. Why is it we can listen to news of the latest war casualties coming out of our miss-guided missions in two wars without so much as a tear, while hearing about some small dog being thrown out of a car onto a freeway gives us nightmares? Once upon a time, I was quick to pick up my pen (so to speak) and address just this type of issue in my column. In fact, I've written about the futility of war, as we know it, for our local paper since moving here. But time has a strange effect on us all, and I'm afraid my days of trying to "save the world" as my Irish cousin calls it, are dwindling. The news junkie in me has been laid to rest, slowly, after the Big Move, the Loss of Vision (and temporary loss of smell), and the Wedding. Think global, act local? Or maybe just try to tackle what I can actually get my arms around - like the hunting hounds that are left there because they are not prey-driven. The "special needs dogs." Miss Bean came from this shelter, and she is love-driven, just as I am driven to love her. Even when she escapes outside the invisible fence, causing great tearing and rendering of clothes and gnashing of teeth!
The Book Club this week will be tackling Emma Donoghue's "Room." An exquisite account of being held prisoner through the POV of a five year old boy, Jack, who was born inside this cubicle. The walls of the room, this 'visible fence', take on the character of the boy's vivid imagination. His mother has created a host of activities and games to entertain and teach him. Donoghue is an Irish writer, and Jack's world is so beautifully nuanced, you come to perfectly understand why the 'real world' cannot measure up. It was a haunting read for me, laid up with the stomache flu over xmas, thanks to my vector of a husband. He says this stomache flu is, "...going around." In fact, did you know that my MIL can catch it just from talking to me on the phone?
So, instead of volunteering at the Pound, I spent the holiday reading, and recuperating from my little bug and wondering if I'll ever want to eat sushi again. Now I must go out and buy a little camera for my computer. The Bride just called me and we Skyped for the first time! Why am I so late to this party?? I could watch her eating breakfast, playing with the dogs, and showing me her orchids which have found their perfect place on her desk getting filtered light all morning.
Some people create their own prisons, and some people Skype.
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