Rachel's Topic: Turning 40 (in Three Years)
When you're young, there are certain milestones you look forward to: driving age, voting age, drinking age, the novelty of 30. I'm even looking forward to my fifties when I can let my hair go until it turns into the beautiful snowy white my mom had when she was that age.
In the meantime, I keep experiencing the milestones you don't really celebrate. This usually involves the realization that certain things have passed you by. You're really too old to develop the skills that could win you an Olympic medal. You're too old to qualify for an MTV reality show. And then you're too old to even enjoy watching them anymore because those kids are just ridiculous. You suddenly realize your parents were right about a lot of things (what I call The Adult-Child Epiphany) and it's time to plan seriously for retirement. The clothes you wore in your youth are back in style, but you know you would look foolish trying them out for this second go-round. No one ever looked good in neon anyway.
We're all aware of the passage of time. Remember when you were young and it seemed like Christmas would never come? Now it seems the days fly by, almost without note. I know it's coming. Every now and again someone in my group of high school friends will bring it up and we'll talk about it in incredulous tones. I'm hoping it will be novel, like our thirtieth birthdays. Maybe we'll take a special trip to celebrate (I vote for a cruise) and talk about how fabulous we still are. Because we are.
No, I'm not too worried about turning 40. Now, turning 41, that's a different story.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
He's Not Even an American Water Dog!
Rachel's Topic: Presidential Pets
I don't know much about the first pets. This may be a better topic for Sarah Vowell. Didn't one of the presidents have a crocodile? And I seem to recall a photo of the Kennedy children with a pony. How very Camelot. There have been a lot of dogs over the years.
Which brings us to our current first dog. Who knew Bo (or Bo 'Bama, as I call him) would cause such a ruckus? I guess everything the current president does is cause for at least comment, if not an all out firestorm of vitriol, so why should their choice of animal companion be any different? I can understand the desire by some that they should choose a shelter dog. That would be a nice example and, really, it's a good thing to do even if you're not the first family. But considering the allergy limitations, a purebred, non-allergenic dog was really the only option. (And they made a shelter donation instead so let it go.) Plus it was a gift from Ted Kennedy. Awww. The kids seem happy. Mom and Dad seem happy. Bo seems happy. That should be all that matters. And the fact that Bo sports an I heart Obama leash is completely charming.
I'm an Obama fan. It's not a secret. But I would feel bad for anyone in his position. The man has one of the most difficult jobs in the world which is made even more difficult when the populace nit-picks and psychoanalyzes every little move he makes. Do we really need to discuss his mom jeans or beer selections? I don't remember hearing about this kind of minutiae during Bush's two terms. Or perhaps I blocked it out.
Every time an election rolls around we get the same media circus of judgement. The candidate ordered chicken sandwich? But this is cattle country! Remember when Obama made some comment about the price of arugula in Iowa? Oh, the horror! To the punditry that was an indictment of Obama's elitism. Arugula! What a snob! Turns out, there were farmers right there in that county, arugula farmers, who cared very much about the price their crop was getting. Let's face it, the scrutiny presidential candidates have come under in the last few decades has gotten out of control. Who cares if a candidate knows what a gallon of milk costs? I don't know what a gallon of milk costs! And I don't care where, or even if, they go to church. I care about their views and their ideas. And I really don't care about their personal relationships. Unless they are engaging in affairs that are illegal or hypocritical, that it. There are many rumors about the various affairs JFK engaged in while in office, but no one talked about it at the time. You know why? It was none of our damn business! He showed up and he did his job. That's good enough for me. Fast forward a few decades and suddenly Clinton is being impeached for a blow job. (Sure, they cited a variety of improprieties, but we all know that's what it was really about.) Honestly, you'd have to be a little nuts to want that job. So, if a little love from man's best friend makes it all a little more bearable, I say go ahead.
See how I brought it back to the original topic? So clever.
I don't know much about the first pets. This may be a better topic for Sarah Vowell. Didn't one of the presidents have a crocodile? And I seem to recall a photo of the Kennedy children with a pony. How very Camelot. There have been a lot of dogs over the years.
Which brings us to our current first dog. Who knew Bo (or Bo 'Bama, as I call him) would cause such a ruckus? I guess everything the current president does is cause for at least comment, if not an all out firestorm of vitriol, so why should their choice of animal companion be any different? I can understand the desire by some that they should choose a shelter dog. That would be a nice example and, really, it's a good thing to do even if you're not the first family. But considering the allergy limitations, a purebred, non-allergenic dog was really the only option. (And they made a shelter donation instead so let it go.) Plus it was a gift from Ted Kennedy. Awww. The kids seem happy. Mom and Dad seem happy. Bo seems happy. That should be all that matters. And the fact that Bo sports an I heart Obama leash is completely charming.
I'm an Obama fan. It's not a secret. But I would feel bad for anyone in his position. The man has one of the most difficult jobs in the world which is made even more difficult when the populace nit-picks and psychoanalyzes every little move he makes. Do we really need to discuss his mom jeans or beer selections? I don't remember hearing about this kind of minutiae during Bush's two terms. Or perhaps I blocked it out.
Every time an election rolls around we get the same media circus of judgement. The candidate ordered chicken sandwich? But this is cattle country! Remember when Obama made some comment about the price of arugula in Iowa? Oh, the horror! To the punditry that was an indictment of Obama's elitism. Arugula! What a snob! Turns out, there were farmers right there in that county, arugula farmers, who cared very much about the price their crop was getting. Let's face it, the scrutiny presidential candidates have come under in the last few decades has gotten out of control. Who cares if a candidate knows what a gallon of milk costs? I don't know what a gallon of milk costs! And I don't care where, or even if, they go to church. I care about their views and their ideas. And I really don't care about their personal relationships. Unless they are engaging in affairs that are illegal or hypocritical, that it. There are many rumors about the various affairs JFK engaged in while in office, but no one talked about it at the time. You know why? It was none of our damn business! He showed up and he did his job. That's good enough for me. Fast forward a few decades and suddenly Clinton is being impeached for a blow job. (Sure, they cited a variety of improprieties, but we all know that's what it was really about.) Honestly, you'd have to be a little nuts to want that job. So, if a little love from man's best friend makes it all a little more bearable, I say go ahead.
See how I brought it back to the original topic? So clever.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Inaugural Post
This all started a few months ago when Rachel and I were driving back from a weekend at our friend's cabin. (This is Minnesota. I think you're required to spend at least one weekend at a cabin every summer. I believe it's a state ordinance.) After a couple of hours had passed and a wide range of subjects had been discussed, Rachel turned to me and said, "You should start a blog." I'll admit, I'd thought about it. I myself enjoy quite a few blogs, particularly those that are clever or funny, but I didn't want to just add to the internet noise. I wanted to find a unique angle. For some reason, I was finding this topic search an insurmountable stumbling block to the whole project. I explained all of this to Rachel and she replied, "I'll give you the topics."
Time passed. I have no excuse for that. For some reason I woke up this morning and thought, right, let's do this thing. I called Rachel and told her I was starting my blog and I needed her to give me some topics. "Well," she said, "Why don't you start with Balloon Boy?" Naturally I replied, "Ahhh, really?" Haven't we heard enough about this spectacle? Rachel told me the point of a blog is to say something that hasn't yet been said. I'm not sure that's the point of every blog. Some blogs certainly, but there are also an inordinate number of blogs whose only point seems to be to comment on the absurdity in old photos. I'm a big fan of those blogs. Calling back to a previous conversation we had, Rachel said, "Start with 'People are gross.'" Okay, here we go.
People are gross.
I'm just going to assume that, unless you've been living under one of those proverbial rocks, you know the story of little Falcon Heene's non-ride on a weather balloon that has since turned out to be a hoax perpetrated by his father to gain publicity for a science/reality television series. (I'll also assume that if you are living under that rock you have no internet access and aren't reading this anyway.) While I have quickly tired of getting any further updates on this bizarre tale, I still find myself wondering what kind of delusional, attention-hungry mind could hatch this type of plot. How did that logic go? My series idea was shot down, but if I pretend that my 6 year old child was accidentally launched in a weather balloon we had built in the backyard, the studios will see the error of their ways! If only America could hear about my eccentric, yet fascinating family, the public outcry for a television show centered around our science-loving lifestyle would be deafening! But how to get the word out? Set Falcon afloat! Wait, that may seem irresponsible. Perhaps we could just say he was on the balloon, but in reality he could be hiding in a box in the garage rafters. And what did Daddy Dearest think when the ensuing mayhem grew to include multiple state and government agencies and even shut down the nearby airport? In for a penny, in for a pound? Or was the coverage even better than he allowed himself to dream? Did he feel bad that the stress caused his child to puke on not one, but two national morning shows or was he just worried that he would be found out?
People are gross, indeed.
Time passed. I have no excuse for that. For some reason I woke up this morning and thought, right, let's do this thing. I called Rachel and told her I was starting my blog and I needed her to give me some topics. "Well," she said, "Why don't you start with Balloon Boy?" Naturally I replied, "Ahhh, really?" Haven't we heard enough about this spectacle? Rachel told me the point of a blog is to say something that hasn't yet been said. I'm not sure that's the point of every blog. Some blogs certainly, but there are also an inordinate number of blogs whose only point seems to be to comment on the absurdity in old photos. I'm a big fan of those blogs. Calling back to a previous conversation we had, Rachel said, "Start with 'People are gross.'" Okay, here we go.
People are gross.
I'm just going to assume that, unless you've been living under one of those proverbial rocks, you know the story of little Falcon Heene's non-ride on a weather balloon that has since turned out to be a hoax perpetrated by his father to gain publicity for a science/reality television series. (I'll also assume that if you are living under that rock you have no internet access and aren't reading this anyway.) While I have quickly tired of getting any further updates on this bizarre tale, I still find myself wondering what kind of delusional, attention-hungry mind could hatch this type of plot. How did that logic go? My series idea was shot down, but if I pretend that my 6 year old child was accidentally launched in a weather balloon we had built in the backyard, the studios will see the error of their ways! If only America could hear about my eccentric, yet fascinating family, the public outcry for a television show centered around our science-loving lifestyle would be deafening! But how to get the word out? Set Falcon afloat! Wait, that may seem irresponsible. Perhaps we could just say he was on the balloon, but in reality he could be hiding in a box in the garage rafters. And what did Daddy Dearest think when the ensuing mayhem grew to include multiple state and government agencies and even shut down the nearby airport? In for a penny, in for a pound? Or was the coverage even better than he allowed himself to dream? Did he feel bad that the stress caused his child to puke on not one, but two national morning shows or was he just worried that he would be found out?
People are gross, indeed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)