HURRICANE, SMURRICANE

I am becoming a cynic, which according to Webster's is "a person who believes selfishness motivates human actions and who disbelieves in disinterested points of view".

And at least so far it is only with regards to the media, not all human actions.


When CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, etc. cannot find:



a) Another SURPRISE SURPRISE Republican candidate to SURPRISE SURPRISE announce their race to the SURPRISE SURPRISE White House,






b) Something more about the American debt to make us panic about being repossessed by China, be convinced that Obama is leading us to the destruction of the Constitution, or dig out the atomic bunkers from the 60's, and/or

c) A relatively minor earthquake in an area inexperienced with tremors but definately prone to panic...







Then the first major hurricane of the annual (i.e. each and every single year) hurricane season becomes

OMGTHISISGOINGTOBETHEWORSENATURALCATASTROPHEEVER.

If Irene does remain a Category 5 and does major damage on the East Coast, killing thousands of residents, flooding Manhattan, and destroying human civilization as we know it, then I will have to eat my words.



But if it causes just some high waves, a lot of rain and not much else, like every other hurricane every other summer on the southern east coast, can we PLEASE learn to not panic about everything that rushes in to fill the news stations vacuum of thirty minutes?!

STRAY EYEBROWS

I am getting to that age.

Fiber is a major concern.

I no longer count the grey hairs showing up.

And last week I found something.

But I refuse to think of them as chin hairs.


I think of them as stray eyebrows.

WOMEN'S LIBERATION

The last couple of days I have been keenly aware of things I can do that not every woman can do.



I can drive.

I can own property.






I am paid with money when I hold a job.




I have been able to feed my family.




I have a doctor. And several medical specialists.


I have electricity in my home.

I have running water (well, at least when the electricity is working).

I was asked today as part of a medical appointment in Tucson if I was in fear of violence from anyone in my household

 I have the right to vote.



I am blessed.



And there are a lot of women in this world who are not.

WHEN THE SONG SAYS IT ALL

 I cannot allow myself to stay at the iTunes store for very long.

It's not the new releases, but all the 'classic' rock & roll, almost everything from the 80's (listened to a lot of radio that decade), half of the things from the 90's...

Well, I will spend a LOT of money, even with 99 cent downloads before I even know that I'm doing.

But one which I downloaded... and then promptly forgot that I had purchased until a few days ago (bet you didn't know that dementia added such fun surprises to your life, did ya?) was George Harrison's "Blow Away."

Now, for those of you who don't know me, I should mention that I have a hearing problem.

And George Harrison has a sweet British accent.

And when I 'rediscovered' this song the other day, and listened to it once again, I was certain that the lyrics went:

All I got to do is to love you, All I got to be is to be happy, All it's got to take is some hope to make it, blow away, blow away, blow away.

And suddenly those words made perfect, perfect sense.

It sums up life.

We are here to "love God, with all our heart, soul and strength, and our neighbor as ourself."

And "men are, that they might have joy."

Then "for without faith there cannot be any hope."

 Of course, then I looked up the lyrics, and discovered that is was not  "some hope to make it" but "some warmth to make it."

Oh, well.

HORSING AROUND

backing the wrong horse 

beating a dead horse

putting the cart before the horse 

champing at the bit

changing horses in midstream 

having a charley horse 

betting on the dark horse 

he eats like a horse 

he is feeling his oats 

straight from the horse's mouth 

being as healthy as a horse 

get off your high horse 

hold your horses 

let's hoof it out of here

we were just horsing around

that's a horse of a different color 

she has no horse sense 

well, if wishes were horses 

don't look a gift horse in the mouth 

you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink 

been working like a horse

GOVERNMENT SPENDING

Yes, Congress and the Senate and the White House waste money. They influence funding for projects which relate strongly to their area, party and/or personal influence.






But I got scared - really, I got scared - when I saw the following on Facebook:

"Here is an idea how the government can save money. Get rid of the senate. I mean... do we really need both congress AND senate? I know....it is supposed to be about checks and balances but these days it seems to be more about checks - their pay checks and they haven't balanced anything in a while. They spend most of their time arguing and insulting each other and sabotaging whatever congress cooked up."

I may have been indoctrinated a bit more than your average bear in constitutional history, simply because my husband was a political science major when we got married and had books titled like "The Origins of American Constitutionalism" for easy reading, and because of him I ended up reading a lot of similiar works and attending poly sci classes for him.

And people out there, our government was not set up casually, just on a whim, let's-see-how-this-works. It's set up the way it is DELIBERATELY.

And we've survived a lot of stupider things than where we are right now in August of 2010.

Just as an example, while you may whine about how the U.S.A. spends money, this is what has happened literally in my backyard:

• The U.S. Department of Homeland Security's Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) has authorized the use of federal funds to help the state of Arizona fight the Monument Fire in Cochise County -- reimburse 75 percent of the eligible firefighting costs under an approved grant for managing, mitigating and controlling the fire

• Low-interest federal disaster loans are available to Arizona residents and business owners affected by the Monument Fire.

• Grass and vegetation seed is being spread over the Monument Fire burn area - a total of 1462 acres.
• Roadwork and stabilization is in progress on 12.3 miles of roads, which includes blading of roads and cleaning and clearing ditches and culverts along roadways.
• Five gates will be installed at White Lily, Miller Canyon, Hunter Canyon, Stump Canyon and Ash Canyon roads.
• A total of 17.5 miles of trail were planned for improvements, about three quarters of which have been completed.

 This how federal money is being spent. Really.

WHY DO WE LIKE ALIENS?



As human beings, we seem to always be looking outside of ourselves.

Perhaps because we don't like looking inside.

But we love the concept of extraterrestrials coming down in the past, or the present, or the future - directing us, fighting us, or helping us.

And it seems to be a natural combination to combine aliens and cowboys.

Because we seem to all want to be cowboys too.

The romance of the Wild West isn't just an American dream - I was amazed how popular it was in Europe.

Gunslingers - wild horses - handsome ranchers - the dusty main street of the town with the salons and bordellos....


Well, I live about thirty miles from Tombstone, Arizona, so maybe I don't see the romance as easily as other people.




But I do understand the attraction of aliens.

Think about it - God would be an alien, right?

He's an extraterrestrial, right?

And why shouldn't someone angelic not show up in a space craft?

So why don't we hear more about this in Sunday School?

BEAUTY BEING IN THE EYE

I was just outside letting the greyhound take her last pee of the night, and waking up the horses to give them all a carrot (they always seem to be slightly irritated at being awoken, and then suddenly extremely interested in a sweet treat, and then highly competitive in vying for the largest one).


And stopped, as I do almost every night, to admire the beautiful night sky.

(Another advantage of living at 5,000 feet far outside of most city lights).

But tonight I wondered.

It is beautiful because it is what I see?

Would it be less wonderful if I were capable of seeing more?

And if I could only see less, would that level then be the most delightful?






Yeah, I agree.

Time to get to bed.

THE MAN IN THE MIRROR

I don't think of myself as tall - I'm the shortest person in my family at 5'9".

But when I'm standing next to someone who is 5'2"... well, yeah, I guess I am.


And I certainly don’t consider myself wealthy - although I must admit now that I have custody of eight horses, I am much more careful of how I speak of them, so as not to come off showy and pretentious.

A friend posted an email the other day about how the "disgustingly" wealthy flaunt it in such ostentation and vulgar houses, with the very specific criticism of "if they have so much money, why don't they help the poor and needy with it instead of splurging it on unnecessary luxury?!"

I did get all up-in-arms about an internet post about Derek Jeter’s “elaborate” new house in Florida. Derek grew up in Kalamazoo Michigan two doors down from my dad’s in a solid middle-class neighborhood. And I know he has worked very very hard to get where he is - why shouldn’t he enjoy it?

And it made me stop and think for a minute about my own affluence.

I live on eight acres - with for a city kid from Los Angeles, is a HUGE expanse of land, and I would guess also for any kid from a slum.

I live in a home with four bedrooms and three baths. That would be pretty amazing to a family of six living in a tin shack.


I have clean, safe water at my disposal from the inside my house. Think of how many miles some people must walk each and every day to bring water back to their home to prepare food, wash clothes, and drink.








I have air conditioning in the summer, and I have heat in the winter. I can wear pretty much the same clothing year round while sitting at my computer or watching NetFlix.


Yeah, I guess I am also one of those disgustingly rich people who flaunt it.

REMEMBER WHEN...

Someone sent me one of those lovely nostalgic emails, about growing up in the 50's and early 60's - candy cigarettes, leaving doors unlocked, having your gas pumped and oil checked each time you stopped at the service station.

And I'm afraid it got me thinking - of all the reasons I do not think of those as the 'good old days.'

When little girls would dream of becoming mommies, or nurses, teachers or secretaries... and nothing else.

While little boys were expected to go to college, and become chairmen of boards, executives, lawyers.

When child molestation happened, but was never reported to the police. Sex abusers weren't prosecuted - names weren't publicized - little girls were just told to be quiet and not talk about it.

 People of color were still called wetbacks and niggers, and didn't work in anything but what we call blue-collar jobs. Not by choice, but because that's what they could get hired for.

Women who did work earned less than 60% then men.

In 1964, the Civil Rights Act was passed, banning discrimination on the basis of color, race, national origin, religion or sex.

However, blacks were still barred from voting in some southern states for years and years - a Latino wasn't elected mayor of Los Angeles until 2005.

In elementary school, I was allowed ONLY wear dresses to school - I wasn't allowed to wear pants until jr. high/middle school, and blue jeans weren't allowed for girls until I was in high school.

When I first applied to veterinarian school, I was told that 'girls specialized in small animal practice, not livestock or horses."

I'm sorry, but I like today a whole lot more.