NRU - more mish mash

As I sit and read books based on qualitative/historical studies, I reflect on how easy it is to note how data is presented through the filter of the author's interpretation.  Then I read this article on older dads and biological/behavioral disorders in their offspring.  Ostensibly this is a quantitative/scientific study claiming that older sperm, like older eggs, has the potential (and according to this article, substantial potential) to create progeny that have autism, ADHD and bipolar disorder.  I was struck by the final piece:

"Although the authors of the study acknowledge their findings do not establish a causal link between a father's age and a child's emotional and academic vulnerability, they conclude that their findings are consistent with the hypothesis that more frequent mutations in the sperm of older men is "causally related" to their childrens' higher risk of poor outcomes."

Turns out quantitative/scientific studies are interpretations as well.

Seems as though Arizona's governor may have learned her lesson when it comes to setting her state up to lose a lot of revenue.  She vetoed the gay hate/religious freedom bill.  So no law in AZ that says you can decide what to do with your business based on your hate.  As Jon Stewart said, I am glad she vetoed it, but it would be better if they could figure out that there is more at stake than revenue.

I truly enjoyed this piece on folks chasing a higher minimum wage across state lines.  I think it does an excellent job of exposing the fallacies being discussed by talking heads that haven't earned anything close to minimum wage since they were teenagers.  There is much to be said for getting closer to the actual issue before making pronouncements about it.

When academia seems to be the pit of snakes I tried to avoid for so many years, I wonder if I could get a job like this.  It sounds like fun!

I am not sure what peace in gentrification looks like but I wonder if this might be the start of detente.  Or there are some folks who might feel like it is just Novocaine.

Quote Thursday ... late edition

He that conceals 

his grief 

finds no remedy for it.

 ~ Turkish Proverb

View from my sister's resting place.

Courtesy of Daily Affirmations

In a not-so-subtle hint, the grief counselor gave me a *handout* on feelings on Tuesday.  I am to try to figure out how to put into words my feelings of grief... not my observations of my grief or others' feelings... my feelings.  

NRU mish mash

There just might be something for everyone in this news round up.

These are tagged for idealism:
I am not sure I understand how these folks are going to work it out financially -- but I admire the motivation they describe for *giving away* their restaurant.  In a world where many children are not going into the family business if it is in the farming or service sector, I guess this is as good a solution for solidifying your legacy as any other.  I don't have time to read all the press on this -- maybe these other articles explain how the Snyder's think this work out for them financially.

Also, I was interested in the fact that no one mentioned one of my favorite movies *ever*: The Spitfire Grill.  It is all about passing a restaurant down ... with a contest.  So, though I applaud the sentiment and motivation, it is not as novel as the article might make it out to be.  Perhaps the author of the article is 12.  It happens.

I love this story about a philanthropist in Washington DC... the best part is the "mother standard" - you have to read to the end to get it.  I wish all people would feel the need to give something ... even a little. And thank you, sir, for the pandas at the Zoo! I love that place.

Much has been said about the progressive perspective of the new pope, and I have *demurely* disagreed.  Laugh now because you know I have never demurely done anything.  Actually, I have just said that I think we need to see what comes with the pretty phrases.  Something, by the way, I said we should do with Obama as well. 

The power is always in the action... and if the action is aimed at power, then we can start to talk about progressiveness, change, etc.  And, today's we have news about the new cardinals and the decision-making policies he wants to bring back to the Vatican. 

"He does not want to make changes by himself, like a monarch," Polti said. "He wants to create an atmosphere like in Vatican Council Two where the bishops discuss and then together in a common way they take their decision."

That, my friends, is change I can believe in.  I was especially taken with his admonition to the new cardinals that this was not a gift or award being bestowed, but a commitment, a larger responsibility to his flock.  Now I will be praying that 1) haters like this stay to the margins and 2) those whose power is being threatened do not conspire to get rid of Francis.

These are tagged for perspective:
This story gets more and more complicated (some might argue nuanced) as the "facts" of the case trickle out.  That is to say, as the legal machine marches forward, and these stories replace the emotional pieces on the loss of the deceased, it becomes less straight-forward.  Thus, perspective gives shape and adds layers.  It is no less a devastating and senseless loss of a vibrant young woman ... but in the rush to outrage, the lives of two other potentially just as vibrant young women were dangled for retribution.  As I follow this story, I am interested in how the prosecutor adds in charges ... less than murder.  It seems like it is one way, we don't often see or understand, that the scales try to balance justice with vengeance.

I am reading a crazy book about "forced sacrifice" and I wonder how it applies to the legal system -- frenzy turns people who did stupid things into murderers or murderers into justified homicidal crazies.  Ah ... the need for perspective and balance is so quickly displaced by righteous outrage on all sides.  I am no less guilty of thinking about these cases from only one side -- but it is not often we are provided enough information to calculate balance into our own reasoning.

So, this one should probably be in the education round up, but I was more interested in how they explained the way people approach "sliding scale" (here called indexed tuition) -- that is how it opened the field to so many more than "financial aid" did.  I guess pride, powerful motivator to do better/well, can also be what holds people back.  Glad these schools have figured out strategies for leveling the field a little.

This is also lemon/lemonade material:
I was tickled to see that folks at LAX realized they could solve their invasive plant species problem by helping the folks at LA Zoo feed some giraffes.  Sometimes, people do think outside of the box -- and work together!!

This one is tagged for outrage:
I heard the story on NPR first thing (but I can't find the audio, so here's the AP piece via NYTimes) and then got around to this article.  I am still in awe of the fact that someone has to explain why legislating hate might not be the right thing -- or constitutional.  Although as the piece accurately points out, it wouldn't be the first time folks in our country used laws to institutionalize hate/marginalization/discrimination. 

I guess these legislators (and those in the other states who also want this kind of law) just enjoy being the butt of Jon Stewart jokes.  If you can claim you are defending one group's right to discriminate against another group, it is not clear what you think is *right* or what you learned in church.

I am also left wondering if any other bible proscriptions matter to the legislators... you know like, will they not serve adulterers, murderers or those who do not honor their fathers -- or who take the Lord's name in vain?  Imagine if all the people who said OMG or Jesus Christ! out of turn couldn't buy any cookies at the bakery.  What if you accidentally sold a cake to a couple of homosexuals and then found out about it later... would you go to hell? Could you sue those folks for defrauding you?! Yeah ... it is that ridiculous. Ridiculous. I suggest those supposedly god-loving/fearing/obeying folks take their indignant rage down to a homeless shelter and give out some baked goods.

Just one more thing (remember I did tag this one OUTRAGE), what gives haters the right to call their hate in the name of the Lord?  What if the rest of us Christians (and Muslims, Buddhists, etc...) called our legislators and told them to stop calling out GOD when they were hating?  Wouldn't the law need to support my freedom of religion, too? Remember that one other rule Jesus handed out before he gave his life for your sins: do unto others... yeah, just like that.

oops -- quote Thursday -- a little late

The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him.


~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

[Photos courtesy of my mom -- through the window... of course.  Completely unrelated except that I am trying to appreciate all the bright spots about being home -- and this gorgeousness is definitely a BRIGHT spot.]

on breaking the internet and setting boundaries

I took the weekend off from parent minding and went with a friend to visit my sister in Las Vegas.  On our extraordinarily long drive, thank you SoCal traffic!, we traded war wounds.  We are both adult children living with our parents.  He does not have as his purpose trying to maneuver his mom into a different lifestyle as I do.  But, apparently, that does not give one immunity to crazy shenanigans.

After I told him about being given the night off from making dinner -- though not invited out with my parents -- he said to me, "Well at least you didn't break the internet!"

We both can do much of our work from home - a concept that is foreign to our parents.  This seems to be the cause of much angst -- on his side, his mother worries that he is taxing the internet by using it too much.  Good thing she doesn't know how much I stream through my lil computer.

Recently, his mom had been dusting and inadvertently knocked the cord connecting the modem either to the cable/dsl or the power cord.  Consequently, she figured that it was my friend's use of the internet that had caused it to stop working.  She went to him and said, "You broke the internet!"

He investigated and found the cord unplugged.

She was unconvinced that she had been at fault.

In my case, I would have gotten a phone call about the internet being broken -- usually when I am over 1000 miles from home.  So, finding the unplugged cord would have taken more work than just looking at the modem.

In fact, almost every evening, I have to convince my mom that she can open her fb account to see the photos my brother has posted.  We walk through the steps; she insists that she did just these steps; and then it works! Voila! All I have to do is stand next to her and the internet works!

The therapist and I are working on the boundaries -- but, let's be honest. I am really the one that has to do the work.  I know what to do, but often, I fail. 

I put all the other needs, which appear to be piling by the millions, in front of mine.  And at the end of the night, my work is not done and I feel like a failure.

And I wonder, for the millionth time, why did I move home? 

But then, I get reminded why it is also a blessing to be nearer.

I get to spend Tuesday afternoons with my nephew. 

Any time with the mijo is good time.

I can make dates with my niece to make cupcakes and brownies -- and watch movies - and be told, "I need some alone time."

And I could go with my uncle to his doctor's appointment -- and get the necessary information that might or not might not get communicated otherwise.  I get the peace of mind of knowing that I can have a little more time with him -- even when he is infuriating, he's my uncle, my godfather, and an important part of my life. 

It tinges the Mexican Archie Bunker moments with a little gold glitter -- we won't have him forever. 

I can't fix anything.

I have to keep reminding myself.

But, if it makes my aunt and uncle feel a little safer to know I am a phone call away -- then I guess it is worth incurring my parents' wrath when I try to throw some things out. 

Thank goodness for the reminders because sometimes I really do forget why this was a good (and necessary) idea.

NRU delayed valentine

Just read this piece about the kindness of a trash truck driver.  I am guessing that trash truck drivers don't generally have fan clubs -- but this kid was definitely Manuel's number one fan.  Turns out Manuel was noticing the kid, too. 

It goes to show you just how important it is to notice, even the small details.

Poetry Thursday -- valentine edition

Your task is not to seek for love, 

but only to seek and 

pull down all the barriers 

within yourself 

which you have built 

against it.

Rumi

baby sister and new husband at their wedding

NRU passings & controversy

I woke Tuesday morning to the news of the passing of these two people:

Stuart Hall and Shirley Temple Black.

Stuart Hall is a theorist who I spent the greater part of the last two years getting to know through his writings.  This article about his passing left me with more questions than answers.  I am glad that someone thought to write about him ... even if the piece did not make the airwaves.

Shirley Temple Black was one of my favorites growing up ... in the endless hours of old movies I watched, those with Shirley were some of the best.  Heidi is still my favorite - though it may be the one with the least singing and dancing.  I heard an interview with her many years ago that renewed my interest and admiration for her.  She said that she never saw any of the movies she was in as a child.  Her mother wouldn't allow it.  It was part of her mother trying to keep her the same size as her britches.  Acting was a job ... and when it was over, she went on with her life in grand fashion.

NPR was full of news on Mrs. Black.  This one I particularly liked.  And I was glad of that, but it made me a little sad that she seemed to be the only one who passed of note.

In other news, all media outlets (and fb news feeds) have been full of news of the death of Marius (the giraffe).  This article started out interesting and then fizzled.  I heard the director interviewed on NPR -- he was steadfast in his rationale for the decision to put down the animal, offer zoo guests the chance to see the autopsy and use the meat as feed for the tigers.  One wonders, though, if all at the zoo felt as clinically as he did about the series of events.  And I rewatched Blackfish the other day, and it was as disturbing the second time around.  Is the outrage outsize or not?

In the same way that judging the right or wrong of Marius' death, this tidbit from the defense in the beating death of the young Asian woman in Santa Ana brings us the same complexity that fb news feeds and outrage deny us.  Is it murder if they were all fighting?  Does this turn of fact explain the strange silence from her friends more than the Vietnamese immigrant community's distrust of the police?

This and that and grief...

I love cemeteries. I run in them, visit them, pick them out to see while on vacation.

For years, every time I was in my hometown, I made a point of visiting the cemeteries where my loved ones are buried. 

Since I have been home, this time, I have not been to the cemetery.  Usually I am the one going and inviting others; this time, I have turned down several invitations.

I itched for their to be a marker for my brother's grave.  For weeks, I pressured my mother to make it happen.

The headstone was finally placed last week, and when my mom said she wanted to go, I couldn't it.

The grief is too real, but the pain of seeing it inscribed somewhere is somehow more than I can bear.

I don't know what will happen when I see it.  I don't know what it will feel like.  I don't know if it is fear that holds me back or intuition (we had a long talk about the difference at meditation last night -- not sure where I come down on it). 

But I am trying to honor the feeling ... the thing is, that headstone will now be there forever.  Just as my brother and sister will never come back.  And that hurts more than I can express.

My sister's ashes are probably scattered to the four winds a million times over at this point -- though there is a place I could go ... but I don't want to go there either. 

I found the piece of the rock that I kept for myself the other day -- it is sitting next to my bed.  I look at it remember, she is gone.  Sometimes it is the only way I can manage to believe it.  Though I have been flashing on her head, limp to the side, in the hospital bed.  I struggled so much to understand - was she still with us or already gone?

My brother-in-law is dating.  My sister-in-law is still distraught.  Every day is a struggle.

We all reach for whatever we think will make us feel better -- but I am actually trying to just feel whatever it feels like every day.

It is not exactly a space of productivity.

NRU - mish mash, 114th edition

One of the boxes my stuff ended up in was labeled:

It was a label left over from the friend who had given me the boxes.  In fact, this box contained only shoes.  But, the label is perfect for this news round up.

Enjoy.

I truly enjoyed this opinion piece by an Asian American researcher on the myth of the model minority and those who would perpetuate it.

It is a rare and beautiful treat to find an earnestly researched memorial about a homeless man.  The lovingly recalled remarks are the best part.  Here is an example:

"I kind of irritated him and he irritated me. But he was interesting," Baumann said. "Although he was dirty and homeless, he was not stupid. ... He wasn't somebody you feel sorry for; he was an active part of that community."

In nearly every place I have lived, I have had relationships with the people without homes in my neighborhood, but never as close as this community held with this man.  In a time when we are absolving policemen from taking their aggression out on mentally ill people on the street, it is good to recognize that there are those of us who see people on the street as human beings.  It brings us all a little more humanity.

If I won the lottery, I would give a big chunk of it, if not all of it, to Father Greg Boyle.  I am sure he could put it to good use with Homeboy Industries.  If only they had a celebrity supporter who could open his/her pockets and invite some others to do the same.  It is bad enough that Homeboy Industries has to do the job of the city, county, state, schools and social services ... someone should be pitching in.

Turns out collecting stuff can turn into a treasure that can be sold and bring something to the world that it might not have ... feeling like I might need to make a trip to the Huntington.  It also makes me wish I were an archivist ... I wouldn't mind being the person who cataloged this collection.

What will your papers/journals/letters say about you? Would you ask that they be burned?  What would happen if someone published them instead?  All this and more (or not) in these two articles... Robert Frost's letters and Pope John Paul's diaries.  Of course, if you want to read JP's innermost thoughts, you will have to know or learn Polish. 

NRU education edition

For so many years I have been hoping someone would say this about science and teaching ... and maybe millions have said it - but I hope someone was listening this time, too.  The headline is really misleading -- in essence what this report was saying is that science is critical thinking and being a scientist can open new worlds for students -- not just in science.  And, it's fun, by the way.

Perhaps all we had to do was give the MOOCs a long enough rope and they would hang themselves... but, it seems to me that it would be much better to do a postmortem on what did not work -- in that way this could be a learning experience.  However, perhaps the inability to take this as learning experience is at the heart of the problem.

As I read this story, my mind turned to my brother who would have loved this program -- and how it is changing the lives of the students involved.  When folks say that education can be powerful, this is what they mean. Love it!

On class size and math and teaching ... turns out, according to this article, that maybe teachers are more than robots who should read from a screen ... hmm...

This story on missions schools in Africa (and their legacies) intrigued me due to my research on Saint Katharine Drexel's schools (and their legacies).

I appreciate that some colleges (particularly the smaller ones) are figuring out that they are better off not trying to compete with other-ly configured colleges/universities on the same terms -- changing the fee structure is one way to demonstrate that you are offering something different than a big school or a big name.  There are other ways, too, and I hope that they will think about exercising some of those.

Finally, a piece on the CSU Chancellor's plan for increasing graduation rates.

sick as a dog...

The wedding was lovely, but the head cold I now have is not.

Here are some pics -- I am afraid coherent thoughts are not truly possible at this time.

An example -- last night on the way home from the airport, I dropped off one aunt with the wrong suitcase ... oops.

On the other hand, we made it home safely despite my congested head.

The wedding spot ...in various stages before the wedding took place.

 The guests hanging out at the pool before the wedding...

 The seagulls taking a dip in the "infinity" pool

 My sister and brother making an appearance on the charms surrounding the bouquet:

 The lovely couple...

 Mariachi -- a surprise for my mom's 80th birthday also on the day of the wedding.

A lovely, if expensive, setting for the wedding weekend.

If only I had not been sick...

Today ...

we will wing to Cabo for my sister's wedding.  A quick three days... no computer, but I am taking a camera.  So, there may be photos at a later date.  But probably no posts til Tuesday.  But I am not making any promises about staying on the blogging wagon because then I will be headed to the chilly East Coast for about a week. 

Hang in there, some drafts may make it to actual post status one of these days.

Poetry Thursday, sort of...

When I fell off the blogging wagon, what I missed the most was looking for quotes and poems to post.

It takes a lot of emotional energy (though I know it adds back in a large portion, too) to contemplate all the ideas in the quotes, so, you know...

I am not there yet... but I am getting closer.

This week, I am going to share what Andrea shared.  It is perfect and matches the peaceful feeling I am hoping lasts from the last meditation session.

I am actually hoping that I will begin, *SOON*, a daily meditation practice. It may be the only way I make it through this move alive.

Beach Days

After too many days locked inside the house or at the hospital, I decided I needed a beach day. After all, what was I doing here in beautiful Southern California without visiting the beach? So, I announced to my brother and niece that we should have a beach day on Tuesday (this was several weeks ago already)... and I got a call first thing in the morning.

We went to my favorite beach in Oxnard which has grass and a playground and then you cross the dunes to the beach. It is the only handicap accessible beach that I know of ... with a ramp that goes far into the sand through a slot in the dunes. [there is a lovely map here to show the set up of the beach, it's copyrighted, so I am only going to point at it.]  There are several benches and tables there so that folks who are in wheelchairs but want to get sand in their food are welcome to do just that. Personally, what I love about the beach is that you can have your food in the grass and or at a table, if you must, and not worry about sand. But to each his/her own ...

After some time swinging and eating her pb&j, my niece was ready for the beach. As you can see, we are dutiful adults who indulge her every whim (ALMOST!), complying when she says "PUSH!" or wants to stop swinging. I helped her collect sticks and feathers for the dino trap she was creating for her rather large plastic triceratops. Then Barbie's dogs (sans Barbie - she must be recovering from skin cancer or something) decided they wanted to be buried in sand.

I discovered that my niece does not like the ocean. She loves the beach. She is that child who loves sand and is afraid of the ocean. I detest sand -- but I love the ocean. I love the sound of the waves, I like to see the tide come in and go out. I like to dip my toes in the ice cold water -- as I have explained to many people who balk at the ocean temp in SoCal, the trick is to keep your feet in until they go numb and then you can't feel the cold! I swear it works every time.

After a while, I left my niece and brother to the dino trap and Gypsies (all of the dogs are named Gypsy, don't ask, I have no idea why).  I started to scan the horizon for whales or other wildlife.  It is what I do at the beach besides look for treasures (we found some) and watch the waves.  I noticed the pelicans (love them) heading toward one particular site, and that there were lots of white birds bobbing in the ocean there.  Pretty soon, my scanning paid off - there were dolphins, fishing in that same area.
 
This is how I discovered my niece does not like the ocean -- she refused to even look at the ocean to see the dolphins. At one point, I held her, she wrapped around me like a koala bear, head buried in my shoulder as I described what I saw.

I pointed them out to my brother and we began to watch them in earnest.  My brother said, I sure wish I could see them surfing.  There were human surfers in the area -- and one set of dolphins had seemed to swim around them at one point.  I reminisced with my brother about our trip to Alaska, when my sister had said, Anna get the whale to come out so I can get a picture.  I waved at the ocean and a giant whale's tail came out of the water - seemingly answering my wave, and my sister snapped the picture.

And, so, a few minutes later, as we continued to watch the water, two dolphins came right at us, surfing the waves.   It really made my brother's day ... and we felt the hand of our guardian angels.
 
These are not my photos, I *borrowed* them from the internet, but they are supposedly in California. And much like the first photo, there was a surfer about to take the wave when he saw the dolphins.  He sat on this board, and at the end pumped his fist in the air obviously as taken with the experience as we had been.

Before we left, we noted about 20 dolphins going back in forth where the birds were feeding.  And at one point, there were three dolphins jumping straight out of the ocean -- it seemed like they were actually playing -- my brother thought it was a mom showing a kid tricks. 

It felt like a great big welcome home -- the one I had been waiting for. 

NRU - on brain death, grief and hospitals

There are too many emotions around this for me -- but I cannot look away.

This is an article ostensibly about the definitions of life and death and brain death.

I thought this counterpoint to the above article was fascinating and frustrating ... demonstrating that this idea of life/death is not nearly as cut and dry as many would have us believe.  And... it demonstrates that those who ultimately get to decide often make decisions based on their own biases rather than some sterile scientific definition -- and that these deliberations rarely take into account the lives the decision will most affect -- those of the loved ones.  UGH.

[Update since I drafted this -- the Texas court decided to order the hospital to honor the families' wishes and the hospital has decided not to take the legal action further and comply with the court order.]

This is an article written by the McMath's attorney -- much maligned in the comments of the SF Chronicle -- I am guessing that is why he published it in the LA Times instead.  Here is the article the LA Times put together about reader responses to Dolan.

Coincidentally (?) while I was preparing this draft, another story about a family that took home their child in a vegetative state came out -- at his death, after 31 years, his family was laying him to rest.  It was clear in the story that their love for him had never wavered - even though he was never able to communicate his wishes to the family, they kept him with them and alive. 

Bottom line, there is so much we don't know about the line between life/death -- I am inclined to believe that families should be given a fairly wide latitude to decide how to care for their loved ones.  I am pretty sure that the more contentious it is, the less the family feels able to let go.  Despite what the disconnected "cool heads" think they believe, until it is their loved one lying in a hospital bed, they really do not know what they would do.  It is one of the reasons it is so important, when possible, to know what your loved ones intend about their lives.  Obviously, when it is a child, it is difficult to impossible to know what end of life provisions he/she would want. 

As promised, this is also NRU about hospitals ... and, so, I could not pass up another article about the hospital that allowed a woman to wander away from her bed, into a locked and abandoned stairwell, and die... I know that there are good people who work at usually excellent hospitals, but then there are others.  What do we take away from this?

I was hoarding these articles because I thought I would be able to write about how these issues affect me right now.  Turns out I am not ready to write about that just now, maybe tomorrow; maybe next week; maybe longer.

NRU - mish mash

I have been reading articles -- I have been saving them to share with this blog -- but I have not been posting.

If you check in on my blog, you already know I haven't been posting.  But I thought I should acknowledge it ... imagine me with a candle beneath my chin, not close enough to burn me, but you know what I mean ... and I am saying, My name is Anna and I have not been posting.

Here is what I have been hoarding ...

A lovely piece about the young man who helped Gifford after she was shot in Tucson, and used the limelight to launch a political career in which he has been doing what he thinks is right not politically strategic.  Apparently, it is not impossible to do this...

Every time I read about the survivors of violence requesting forgiveness, my heart leaps.  I am not sure how people access this level of compassion, but I am inspired and awed by it.

You are not going to believe this, but texting and dialing while driving is distracting.  There is a report to prove it -- in case, like global warming, you think it is a plot by the government to control your life.

In other news, there is a new PBS documentary on Ruben Salazar ... looking forward to it. But I guess I need to figure out how to tell the tv to record it because I missed the one on Salinger.

I almost couldn't read this article about a young man who tried to get the cops to kill him -- and the cops that were only too eager to oblige.

NRU mish mash

In my quasi-leisure [read inability to get things done that actually need to get done] I have been renewing my love affair with long NY Times articles.  It is harder to do online than in the actual paper, so these might not be the longest pieces.  I am looking forward to reading an actual paper once I am settled.

This piece on the warehouse of artifacts from closed Catholic churches tickled me.  I imagined when they might get to the point where they would sell these pieces to non-Catholic churches, too.

I cannot say anything about this piece without giving away its humor and impact, so I will just tell you the headline and that I loved it:  How I Found Love on Companionship Online.  Hope you love it too.

Glad the courts saw fit to admit this young man into the bar ... but is he still banned from legally working?  I guess they are saying that he can use the legal loophole that allows undocumented people to work as independent contractors ... because no one is employing them?  With all of these contortions, I wish the congress/senate would start to understand the importance of passing the immigration bill.

Ah ... Jefferson county ... still trying after all these years to secede from California.

I cannot believe we needed a study to confirm the distraction of phones/texting while driving... but I guess it is good that it has been confirmed. 

NRU the light and the dark -- heavy on silver linings

I couldn't really bring myself to post something for the anniversary of Newtown.  I was heartened to hear that the news media was abiding by the city's wish to be left alone.  But then there were these stories ... some that moms and dads self published and some that were offered via NPR.  This story was particularly lovely -- I have been trying to take her message to heart as my eyes leak and my heart continues to break.  I particularly loved what she had to say about language -- and I am so glad she lit all 28 candles.  This family reminds me that there are those of us with the compassion necessary to turn tragedy to hope.  If only we could all harness these sentiments -- to harness our pain into hope that engenders innovating for peace.

And one more Newtown entry:  a rabbi giving a cure for hatred -- loving kindness.

StoryCorps hit a homerun again with this one -- siblings talking about how a baby saved a family from darkness.  There is hope ... we can change.  We have the ability to aspire to better and to make it real.

In a special Christmas miracle, same sex marriages go forward in Utah -- may be all be very happy!

Before we turn to the dark, my favorite Christmas story is this one about a family reaching out to those with less.  It demonstrates several key ideas: 1) those with the least are often the most generous, 2) working together as a family can be very powerful, and 3) for every story about delinquent immigrants, there are probably five like this.  Thank goodness for people who help others. 

I struggled with where to put this story -- it is heartbreaking and soul affirming at the same time.  The strength and love these parents find in their faith is truly inspiring.  But having so recently lost people dear to me, my heart also breaks for the man's wife and son.  I hope that those who killed this man and wounded his wife are brought to justice, but I also hope that his parents will be there to forgive the killers as well.  The Mennonite pastor asked those at the funeral for prayers for the killers "in hopes they'll come to understand the wrong they have done and experience a transformation in their thinking and their lives."  We have a lot to learn about life from forgiveness.

And then the dark ... this story broke my heart over and over -- how sloppiness and disregard did not just ruin one life - but allowed one person to ruin the lives of two other families.  The chances to stop this tragedy abounded -- and were disregarded.  When will we wake up?

The elected officials of this country continue to demonstrate the darkness in their hearts -- lowering the payments to those in need for food.  Clearly, they do not understand how the funds are used -- and what they can be used for.  NPR has been doing some reporting on what it's like to be poor in the US, I guess, just in time for Christmas.   This one was particularly poignant as it juxtaposes a part-time janitor's struggle to support his family with the splendor of his employer, Google.

I HEART Freecyclers/Freecycling

If you don't know what I am talking about ... you clearly haven't met me.

I learned about freecycling when I was preparing for my move to Albuquerque -- from a woman at the LDS Family Center, of all places.

I had been doing some family tree research and was stumped. I knew I needed to go to the LDS Center because they have the resources ... but it was at the time when the fight over same sex marriage was in full swing.  I felt like a traitor going to the home of the H8ters... but I needed the resources.

A lovely older woman was there helping ... she must have asked me five times if I was Mormon -- no, just here to look up the family tree stuff.  That is another story for another post -- I probably already wrote about it.

But, for some reason our talk turned to her foster child who aged out while in her care -- the woman's birth children hooked up the young woman with all the things she needed for her first apartment through freecycle.

Ah!

What a find... I signed up immediately for the Albuquerque freecycle because I was taking very little with me ... and would need things when I arrived.  But I was cautioned not to sign up til I got here so that I wouldn't get so much email of things I couldn't claim.

The Albuquerque Freecycle is vastly different than the Bay Area Freecycle -- but it is a community I adore ... we are all not-so-secret hoarders ... with things that we keep because we might need them someday -- and can't bear to put them in the trash (Thanks, Dad, for that genetic trait).

There are three kinds of posts OFFER (what you want to get rid of), WANTED (the tag says it all), and TAKEN (what you say when it is off your hands and into someone else's).

But given the right impetus -- someone else *needs* it -- we are happy to part with all the junk that is clogging up our lives.

On the one side of my heart is the hoarder -- but on the other is the pain of remembering what I couldn't bring with me when I left NJ.

As a result, I give things away with abandon ... anything that I haven't touched in a while, I feel like I should offer -- I don't always, but the thought crosses my mind.

And, the truth is, I ***LOVE*** giving things away.  When a million people want the same stupid thing I posted, I wish I had forty seven, so I could give them all away.

Sometimes, I find myself rummaging through my things to see if there is something I can post.

It is some other kind of madness, I am sure -- the other side of the coin of the hoarder?

In any case, there have been very few times when I posted an *ask* that wasn't fulfilled -- and I have scored many other things that I didn't *need* but couldn't help myself.  I find myself throwing some of those things back into the pool now as I pack.

Hooray for freecyclers... may we all have what we want ...