Slow News Weekend?

The world's greatest golfer and his wife had a fight. Something about a tabloid story accusing him of hanging out with some cocktail waitress. The argument escalated because the wife wouldn't let it rest. She kept talking and talking; he kept hanging his head and saying nothing. Finally, his legendary temper took a hike and, then, so did he. He jumped in his Escalade and started the engine. His wife followed him into the garage and picked up a nine iron from one of the 30 golf bags lined up against the wall. She didn't want him to leave, so she started wailing on the back windows, so as not to injure his money-making apparatus. He squealed out of the garage and down the driveway in a rage and forgot about the fire hydrant at the bottom. He hit the hydrant at about 40 mph, lost control of the car and smashed into his neighbor's tree. His mouth hit the steering wheel on impact with the hydrant; the airbag didn't deploy until he hit the tree. End of story.

You have just read what I consider to be the most logical explanation for Tiger Woods' mishap with the tree. My question is What married couple on the planet hasn't had a couple of rough days and nights in their time together? And why does the media believe that it is any of our business? I'm just glad that the original reports of serious injury were apparently overstated and that Tiger will eventually return to his work.

I am grateful that we managed to get through the Thanksgiving weekend without a major world crisis. I understand that the cable news organizations have to fill the hours they spend on the air with something, but give me a break.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

The distinctly American holiday of Thanksgiving is a mandatory no-whine zone. Whichever Creator you pray to already knows that times are hard, the government sucks, today's kids are out of control, and older age comes with an assortment of annoying aches and pains. Every day when I wake up I have the choice to either wallow in my problems all day or to smile and work toward solving them. I'm human, so some days I wallow. Not on Thanksgiving.

This year required serious introspection in order for me to make the list that follows. But, unless you are deceased, there are things for which you can be thankful. Here are some of mine, in no particular order:

• My son, Stephen, the center of my universe. He has the ability to make my day turn from sad to joyous by making the kind of phone call he made just before Thanksgiving. He was extremely excited about some progress he had made on a project that could have monumental consequences. He said, "You know, Mom, it's really not about the money. I LIKE doing this." I am thankful that after all these years, he has found something that could make him say that.


• My sister. Our bond is more often unspoken than not, but it is as solid as Crazy Glue. She is the most loyal person I know.


• Facebook. Since deciding that it is okay for geezers to participate in the social networking craze, I have reconnected with friends from as far back as elementary school. And now there is no need for people to write those comprehensive holiday newsletters because I can keep with their daily lives on Facebook. Or not.


• My family. As families go, mine is small. At my age, it keeps getting smaller. But those who are left are standup people who I can be proud to call family -- at least most of the time. My three cousins feel more like siblings because we grew up across the street from each other and spent many, many holidays watching the adults behave badly.


• My real friends. I am not the greatest friend in the world. Of course, I'm there if I am needed and someone tells me that I am needed. But I am the worst at just reaching out and seeing how you are doing. I get lost in my own head and before I know it another birthday or Christmas has rolled around and I haven't made one call. My real friends understand that about me and have learned not to keep score, but just yell when they want my attention. There are two in particular who have stuck with me in spite of my quirks: one who I've known since I was 4, and one who I've known for about 4 years. I am also fortunate to be real friends with my former husband, from whom I have been divorced for nearly 25 years. Time heals.


• Coqui, my Bichon Frise dog. She is always at my side, does exactly what I ask and greets me with exuberance every time I leave and come home.


• Atlanta. This city is has breathtaking beauty, especially during the Fall. This year the colors of the forest we call home are spectacular.


• Great neighbors. I am never worried about what will happen if I should become ill or incapacitated, even though my sister and her son's family live almost an hour away. They are the best neighbors in the world.

I am thankful to be alive, with reasonably good health, and to still have a handle on my sense of humor.

Women: Take Charge of Your Own Breasts!

If there is anyone left out there who questions the motives of the opponents of health reform, they have not paid attention to the latest "guidelines" released yesterday by the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force. This is an odiferous case of a secret partnership between this task force and the insurance lobbies if I ever saw one.

There are sixteen members, all physicians, on this task force, but not one oncologist. http://www.ahrq.gov/clinic/uspstfab.htm#Members . This same web page explains the process by which the USPSTF arrive at their recommendations. It is not the task force itself that conducts the clinical studies and research underlying their findings. No, instead they contract with an 'Evidence-based Practice Center' (EPC), an entity which apparently operates independently and for profit. Nowhere on the web page is there anything that explains how these EPCs are held to a standard that would prevent them from falling prey to outside influences.

Kathleen Sibelius, Health and Human Services Secretary, was quoted in a Reuters news story today as saying that the task force does not set policy in her department, and that this recommendation is in no way an excuse for insurance companies to refuse to pay for mammograms under the current guidelines. We'll see about that.

In the interim, I suggest that any women reading this blog continue to do their monthly self-examinations and, if they are 40 or older, to go ahead and have those annual mammograms. No scientist, task force or politician can tell me that there is no need to stay on top of my health. Even if today's practices only save a handful of lives each year, it is well worth the time and expense.

I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up?

My computer crashed Sunday night! Right after I published my blog about Sarah Palin, I closed Blogger and noticed that the caricature I used had accidentally become my desktop background.
Two seconds later I received one of those scary Fatal Error messages, and this time it was real. None of the tricks I have learned over the years were working. I had a full-blown computer CRASH on my hands.


Now far be it from me to assign any paranormal powers to the ex-governor of Alaska, but something happened with that picture. You are probably thinking that there must have been a worm or a virus attached to that caricature. It's possible, I guess. I gave it the proper attribution at the bottom of my post, trying to avoid being zapped for using the drawing illegally.
But, somehow, the darned thing took me out of business until just about an hour ago.

Computers can be evil things. It took about a nanosecond to miss-hit the key that sent that drawing to my desktop. It has taken the greater part of two days for me to get it back up and running the way it should. And I am still two days away from restoring all the files and settings, which at least I have, thanks to several previous crashes and the lessons they taught. I now have an online backup service for just these occasions (and I seriously recommend that you do the same.) I had 33GB of files on this computer before the crash, and it takes hours to restore them. Without the backup service, I would be sunk.

I'm pretty proud of myself for having the knowledge and the patience (my sister calls it stubbornness or plain craziness) to work through this challenge. I had to start over with a totally blank computer. I had to clean the entire system with three different anti-spyware/malware/virus software titles before I could be sure I was out of the woods. There were a few moments in the process that I feared I had killed the whole machine, and I began thinking about what magic I would have to work to buy a new one. Life without my computer is out of the question. That's how much of a geek I have become.

She's Baaaaaack!

Sarah Palin's at it again. Under the guise of a tell-all book, Sarah seems to be launching her 2012 Presidential campaign with a frenzied book promotion tour. This time, however, she is unfettered by McCain campaign "handlers," those obnoxious functionaries who she claims told her when to speak and what to say, where to go and what to wear. Whether "the Media," which Sarah has accused of being extremely biased against and unfair toward her, will respond any differently this time remains to be seen. One thing is for certain: Sarah Palin gets all the attention from the media she wants and then some.

I, personally, cannot wait for next week's series of TV interviews with the industry's heavy weights. I might even buy her book, so that perhaps now I will be able to see and understand the appeal this woman has to her supporters. Is there really something more to admire than a pretty face and figure? Will there be a level of critical thinking revealed that will negate the inane remarks she made during the 2008 campaign?

I am well aware of how suspicious conservatives are of so-called Democrat intellectualism. Although I have never thought of myself as an intellectual, I do tend to rely on rational thought and I try to fight my strong tendency toward the emotional when I'm trying to solve a problem or make an important decision. If that makes me an intellectual, I'll take the label, but I can't figure out why that makes me a suspect. I can, however, understand why conservatives might not be suspicious of Sarah Palin. No one has ever called her an intellectual!

So far I know a handful of FACTS about Mrs. Palin:

* Despite her annoying (to me) voice and speech patterns, she has been successful at being elected to public office, so she does have the ability to make a case for her leadership potential.

* For reasons that must be a secret, because the stated "reasons" do not make any sense, she quit the job her state elected her to do.

* She can deliver a scripted speech extremely well. No script? Not so well.

* She has had to deal with the same kinds of family issues we all do in some way, at some time.

* Lots of people find her attractive.

The very fact that Sarah Palin has a large following makes me curious -- about those followers and about Sarah. What am I missing? I intend to find out.

Sarah Palin caricature by Steve Thomason , http://www.spot-studios.net/

Happy Birthday, Coqui!

Today is Veteran's Day, the official day to celebrate all the brave men and women who have served in the U.S. military. My flag is flying out front in tribute also to those who are not yet veterans, but who are deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq.


But today is special for a far more personal reason to me. Today is my little dog Coqui's 8th birthday. Coqui is short for Coquette, a name that this little beauty has earned over the years. She drives my friend's Lhasa Apso, Gizmo, absolutely mad by totally ignoring him whenever they meet. She knows she is beautiful and struts her fluffy little body as if she is above all the drooling and sniffing going on around her.


I put off getting a pet until I retired from the daily grind. I never felt it was fair to leave a dog home alone while I worked 10-12 hours a day, even with the services of a dog sitter. When I did decide it was time, I spent several weeks determining which breed would be best for me and my life-style. A life-long fan of large, male dogs, I thought it was time to downsize and to reduce the effects of canine testosterone in favor of a more manageable size and temperament.


The Bichon Frise was the recommended breed by the AARP magazine the month before I began my search in earnest. It would be a perfect choice for me because it is hypo-allergenic, extremely intelligent and too cute for words. They do not require a lot of exercise --they can be happy in a small apartment or a large home like mine--but they love to romp and play. Their average weight at full growth is around 15 pounds and they live an average 16 years.


The $1200 I paid for Coqui might just be the best money I have ever spent. Despite my earlier declarations that "she is just a dog," Coqui is like another child to me, except she never asks for money. She is always glad to see me when I return; never lets me out of her sight when I'm around. She sleeps with me, runs errands with me and lies at my feet for hours when I'm reading, writing or watching TV. She is the best antidote to loneliness, and her high-maintenance coat keeps me busy every day. Our twice-daily walks around the neighborhood help to keep us both reasonably fit.

Coqui is the best and I am fortunate that she chose me for her companion. Happy Birthday!

It's A Wonder We've Made it This Far!

Mad Men is a TV series, currently ending its third season, about a Madison Avenue advertising executive in the early 1960s. Both the writing and the acting in each episode is nearly flawless.I have become addicted to the series, so I spent the better part of Saturday and Sunday watching the Seasons 1 and 2 DVDs.

The authenticity of this program is impressive. All managers are male. All secretaries are female. Everybody smokes cigarettes constantly. Hard liquor is available in the boss's office. The three-martini lunch is de rigeur, and marital infidelity is as common as the snap-brim hat worn by all class of men. And the women wear curve-hugging clothing, the highest of heels, and carefully coiffed hair, all designed to attract passes from the bosses and their minions. Everybody is a WASP (White Anglo-Saxon Protestant) and ethnic jokes flow like the booze they all drink.

Female employees are patronized or objectified, sometimes both. Most of the time, they are ignored. They are expected to "cover" for their bosses' indiscretions and lapses in character, while enduring snarling wrath when their covering doesn't work.

The men feign camaraderie while operating under a brutal set of Rules of Engagement. They will do anything (or anyone) to get ahead while keeping secrets capable of undoing it all. This is certainly the 60s I was trying to grow up in.

It is often painful, sometimes shameful, to watch these scenes play out. But I love it because it proves how very far women (and men) have come in the American workplace, and I have lived through it all. Luckily, I was still in high school in the early 60s, oblivious to shenanigans in the offices downtown. With all the smoking and drinking and carousing that went on, it's a wonder anybody lived to old age!

H.R.3962 Affordable Health Care for America Act

I wanted to feel happy that the House of Representatives passed the President's Health Care Reform Bill by a very narrow margin last Saturday night. I wanted to celebrate, but I had an uneasy feeling about it all because I really didn't know what the bill actually said. After spending my Sunday morning in the usual way, i.e., watching the Washington talk shows, I still didn't know much about what the bill says. I knew which of the panelists were anti-big-government and anti-spending. I knew how many times the word "shall" appears in the 1900+ page document (something like 3,400 or more), but very little about which parts of our ailing health care system were being reformed.

I did an Internet search and found Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi's web site http://www.speaker.gov/newsroom/legislation?id=0327. There is a list of several different ways to become familiar with the details of the bill. There is a full pdf version, a full html version, a 4-page summary, a 10-page summary, and several other forms of information. I, of course, chose the 4-page summary, and while I probably did miss out on some of the specifics, I think I am now on firmer ground for coming to conclusions about the bill.

Several items particularly caught my eye:
1. Parents will be able to keep their young adult children on the family insurance plan until his or her 28th birthday, instead of the 24th birthday.
2. Obscure pre-existing conditions will no longer be an impediment to getting health insurance, because the insurance companies will only be allowed to look back 30 days into the applicants medical history instead of the current 6-month window.
3. No public monies may be used for abortions, except in the case of rape, incest or danger to the life of the mother.
4. A history of domestic violence will no longer qualify as a pre-existing condition.

I now understand why this document is nearly 2000 pages long. The level of detail in this bill is, while overwhelming, truly necessary to cover the many issues faced by ordinary Americans.
Am I ready to celebrate? Not quite. I still don't understand how all of this is supposed to be funded, and until I know just how large or small an addition to an already unwieldy bureaucracy will result from this bill, I will not be cheering.

Oh, yes. And about item number 3 above: I can hear the sounds of escalating outrage among women coming closer and closer. The next stage of this debate will be a barn burner!

Remaining PC in an Insane World

I am reeling from the tragedy unfolding at Fort Hood. This incident provides so many different principles to ponder, it was hard to zero in on just one. But this one is one of the toughest among the very tough ethical issues of today. I'm talking about the decidedly INcorrect practice of racial and/or cultural profiling.

When I saw the bulletin crawling at the bottom of my TV screen yesterday, my first thought was that some soldier or civilian resident on the U.S. Army base had gone "postal" over either a domestic dispute or some barroom brouhaha. Minutes later, the news department broke into the programming to say that the shooter had been identified, he had been shot by a U.S. soldier, and his name was Maj. Nidal Malik Hasan. Even more noticeable to me than the distinctly Middle Eastern sound of that name was the lack of any remark about that name on the reporter's part. The following string of thoughts raced through my head:

1. I wonder if he's a Muslim
2. What's he doing in the U.S. Army?
3. I'll bet this is a terrorist act.
4. They wouldn't have just promoted him to Major if he was anything but a model soldier!
5. As an African American who has lived for 65 years dealing with racial prejudice, you (meaning myself) should be ashamed for even thinking these thoughts.

So I sit here now, attempting to come to terms with what is clearly a dilemma, not just for Americans or fill-in-the-blank-Americans (i.e., Native or Asian or Italian or Muslim, etc.), but for humankind. Our brains are wired to develop conclusions based on a series of visual or auditory clues. It works very well for most of us most of the time. But try these on for size:

-On bad hair days I like to tie a scarf around my hair with the knot on the side, just above one ear. When I do, I can count on having at least one person say "you look like a gypsy!" Am I a gypsy? Hardly. But what if I took to carrying a crystal ball around with me and wearing a long, full and colorful skirt? Chances are the responses would change from "you look like a gypsy" to "Are you a gypsy?"

-A man named Bill DeBardelaben submits an application for an important job in Amsterdam. His Dutch name jumps off the page at the hiring manager, immediately piquing his interest. But when Mr. DeBardelaben arrives for his interview, the hiring manager is flummoxed and hardly able to speak. It turns out that Mr. DeBardelaben, an American, is clearly of African descent and his skin color is that of the darkest ebony. There is no hint whatsoever of his being of mixed race. Because he's not. He is from Alabama and his ancestors were slaves owned by a Dutch plantation owner.

In either of these examples, no one would accuse the people who made these assumptions of being prejudiced; at least not to the level of cultural profiling. They took in clues, processed those clues based on previous learning and/or experience, and drew conclusions. The problem is that there was crucial information missing, but neither observer knows that or what it is.

If I were to say out loud that all Sicilians are Mafioso; all diamond merchants are Jews; all black men are dangerous; all Irish people drink a lot; no white people have rhythm; all cops are bullies; all politicians lie; and all married men cheat, I would be pummeled by any world citizen interested in being politically correct. But who hasn't had one or more of these or similar thoughts about whole groups of people?

I believe strongly that we should continue to encourage ourselves and others to avoid making snap judgments based on limited visual and audible clues. It's not fair and, ideally, we all deserve the benefit of the doubt. But will we ever be able to totally overcome that which makes us human, that ability we have to think critically and quickly to determine if we need to engage our fight or flight instincts? That might be just a little too much to ask.

It's Official: I'm A Real Senior

Looks like I made it to 65, and I am really glad I did. I have already documented the drawbacks of being this age, but there are plenty of things to celebrate about it.

I have always been outspoken and independent, but at this point it has become unbridled. I do what I want, when I want and with whom I want -- every single day. I go only to functions in which I have an interest, and I have permanently retired my wardrobe of formal wear, which had become significant because of my career in Public Relations. No more cocktail parties with people I must know, but wouldn't, if I didn't have to. No more rubber chicken luncheons and brainless small talk.

Life has become relaxed and quiet enough for me to actually meet and know all my neighbors, their children and their dogs. I stroll when I walk my dog instead of pulling her down the street in an effort to get somewhere on time. I marvel at the number of cardinals I can spot on a given morning, and I watch in amazement as the squirrels play chicken with the cars on the busy street. Most of the time they win; not always, though.

Sometimes this leisurely pace affords an opportunity to see things I would rather not. This morning, for instance, I observed a rat the size of my neighbor's Chihuahua strutting across the patio of a local restaurant carrying Lord knows what in its mouth. These are the kinds of things we expect to happen in a big city, but normally we are moving too fast to see them. This is one of the few times when I wished I was still rushing! Maybe, since I am 65 now, I will actually forget what I saw the next time someone suggests dinner at that particular restaurant.

News Talk Show Moderators: Hosts or Hosers?

I'm starting to wonder why I treat David Gregory's Meet the Press, George Stephanopolis' This Week in Washington and John King's State of the Union as Must-See-TV. The roles of interviewer and interviewee are being played these days by The Hammer and the Artful Dodger!

By the time I had watched all three programs this past Sunday I was gritting my teeth in frustration. The host asks a loaded question, hoping to get a sound bite that can later become a controversial headline. The guest, it seems, would rather eat ground glass than respond with a straight answer, because he or she knows full well that the words will undoubtedly come back to bite. The host says, "Why can't you just answer yes or no to this simple question?" or something similar. The guest repeats a long statement, relevant to almost anything but the question, and talks long enough for both the host and the viewer to forget the original question.

After one complete hour of this back and forth game of Gotcha, the only news that's been made is that the Sunday morning talk show has become a place where a highly-paid bully engages a highly skilled evader of the "whole truth" until the time is up!