tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-218343262024-03-07T03:52:06.954-05:00stimp and the worldI'm stimp. This is my world. Your mileage may vary.stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.comBlogger67125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-43881941846261787842010-06-18T16:36:00.000-04:002010-06-18T16:36:49.936-04:00He's going home, and other ramblings<em>June 18,2010</em><br />
<br />
<em>So it looks like Tony from BP is being recalled to England. That's nice. I guess he'll finally get his life back. I wish the same could be said for the nice folks living on the gulf coast. </em><br />
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<em>I get angrier every day about the whole mess. I want Obama to make it all better. I'm not sure he can. He's good, but he can't put everything back the way it was. No one is that good, and the people and environment are the proof. Epic fail. </em><br />
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<em>I may have to take a break from the news. I won't, but I probably should. I get depressed and angry when I see the mess things are in. I am enraged when I hear what some of the idiots on the Right are saying. I get scared when I realize how many people don't ask, or read, or make any effort to learn about a problem. They take what they hear as gospel truth. After all, it was on the news, right? This isn't our parents news anymore. It cannot be assumed that the person reading the news had anything to do with its research or writing. Most of them are news models. Nice to look at, some of them. but not to be taken seriously. Or they are commentators, which is fine, but shouldn't be assumed to be without an agenda. People who think Glenn Beck gives them the unvarnished truth have other nasty habits. Beck and his ilk are about ratings. I can only hope they go away before anyone gets hurt. But it won't happen. good night and good luck...stimp</em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-68077707554706748622010-06-16T19:07:00.002-04:002010-06-16T19:15:40.390-04:00Safety in Numbers<em>What does it mean to be safe? I know that is a stupid question. I was out with a group of my friends last night. Two different people, both guys, suggested that they could behave more like themselves with me because, since I was married, I was "safe". Indeed. I am a happily married woman. Delightedly married. I am not looking for anything outside my marriage. But just what does it mean to be safe? If I weren't married, would my male friends feel less comfortable being themselves around me? If so, that is a shame. I have always enjoyed having male friends, almost more than female ones. My relationships with males have always been less complicated, once we were both clear of the "relationship" baggage. I like guys. In a way, I must admit I was almost insulted. What does it mean to be safe. I felt like every body's mom. I'm married, so I am no longer a woman? I am some sort of neutral? I'm no femme <span style="background-color: yellow;"><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: yellow;">fatale</span></span>, but it would be nice to be acknowledged as such. Treat me like a lady sometimes, not one of the guys. Sure I'm married. But even I still like to flirt a little. Even more now, because </em><em>I am married. Flirting, bawdy wordplay, makes me feel female. Doesn't mean I'm trying to be a tramp, or sleep around. it just make me feel, I don't know, "<span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: yellow;">girly</span>". Like a real woman. Maybe most women don't need that kind of sort of reinforcement. I like it. Sue me. It makes me feel safe to be the woman I am. good night and good luck...<span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: yellow;">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-32590741406835286642010-06-16T16:32:00.002-04:002010-06-16T16:37:36.542-04:00Mama, I'm coming home<em>June 16, 2010</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Yeah, I know. I haven't been in a while. I've been writing for a local newspaper for the last year, and I was concerned about overlap. I couldn't publish what I wrote there here. But I have two more columns left for them, so I figure I can come back to where I started on my merry way. I'm glad to be back. And my mileage still varies. But nothing else seems to. So let us return to the place where I can say what I want, cuss when I want, write about what I want, even if it's stupid. Enjoy the ride. </em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-42613683370394427422009-11-24T07:43:00.002-05:002009-11-24T07:52:22.175-05:00Adieu, Jon and Kate<em>November 24, 2009</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I found something new to be thankful for. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I can only hope, now that the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Gosselins</span> have turned their breeding habits into a train wreck, that they will go away and leave me alone. I don't, and never have, watched the "show". But their family life has been forced on me and everyone else since day one. I said it about the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Octomom</span>, and I'll say it again. Having a litter is not a talent. It is an <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">aberration</span>. Having said litter, then using it to cash in is an abomination. Children are not a commodity. I have a child. It is difficult enough to raise a child in this world without turning their lives into a circus. I work with kids, and see kids every day whose parents don't take their job seriously. Broken children with only the system to help fix what went wrong. I feel bad for those kids. I feel bad for any kids who have parents pimping them for their own selfishness. The parents suck, and the children are left to confusion. Go away, Jon and Kate. </em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-15813067371886430172009-08-13T05:13:00.002-04:002009-08-13T05:32:42.648-04:00Death Squads<em>August 13, 2009</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>They are not going to kill <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Grandma</span>. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I am getting sick of listening to all of the nastiness. I have said before that most of the world's problems could be solved by a little civility, some manners. Of late, it seems manners have gone the way of the dodo, or full service gas stations. Sure, they still exist, but you're gonna really have to look. When I published my first column in the local paper, the criticism I got, for the most part, had nothing to do with the topic at hand. I got personally insulted, but not my subject matter. A lack of interest in the subject matter seems to be afoot again. Our representatives, with all good intentions, come home to see what we think about things. They hold town hall meetings. Some of them are being screamed at, insulted, and abused for their good intentions. Some have been <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">subject</span> to personal attacks and death threats. There is one <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">representative</span> who had a swastika spray painted on the sign outside his office. How does this further the discourse? Not discussion, but screaming and threats. Not listening, but being shouted down. This serves nothing. It reminds me of little kids throwing a tantrum. They hear or see something they perceive that they don't want. Might be true, might not. Either way, they respond by kicking and screaming "NO, NO,NO" at the top of their lungs. They might miss something important, like an answer to their concerns. There is evidence that people are being encouraged to behave this way by interest groups that could be negatively affected by health care reform. I don't care whose idea it was. Fact is that instead of reading and learning, the lies and distortions are being taken as gospel, and acted on as such. None of the incomplete bills before Congress suggests pulling the plug on the old, infirm, or handicapped. It is against the law, Federal law, to use taxpayer money to fund abortion. And I've got news for you, our <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">health care</span> is being rationed by <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">bureaucrats</span> every day. Insurance companies make money by taking your premiums, and not paying your claims. They decide who gets what treatment. End of story. We pay more every time we use the system, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">because</span> people don't have health care. Being taken care of when sick or hurt should be a human right, not a job benefit. We need to examine our souls, close our mouths, and treat each other with a little common decency. Really, people, grow up. good night and good luck...<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-8058931633477790052009-07-31T12:00:00.002-04:002009-07-31T12:03:11.032-04:00newspaper<em>July 31, 2009</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I started a new endeavor. I was selected to be a community columnist for the next year in my local newspaper. I am not allowed to republish what I have written for the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Trib</span> here. However, if there is interest, it can be found at <a href="http://www.tribtoday.com/">www.tribtoday.com</a>, under Opinion. I have been writing a blog on and off for years, but this is my first real foray into journalism. I hope I don't screw it up. good night and good luck...<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-47631757794589227562009-07-30T10:08:00.002-04:002009-07-30T10:14:04.409-04:00The revolution<em>July 30, 2009</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>OK. Perhaps My Space wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be. I have had my account a around a year, and blogging there isn't as fulfilling as it was here. So I am coming back. I liked it here. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I am getting a big kick out of Twitter. It's fun. Not particularly deep, but lots of fun. Find me there at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">stimp</span>99 if you wish. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I am starting to write for a real newspaper. Our local hires folks to write as community columnists for a year. My first column is tomorrow, and I am nervous about writing for it. This seems less intimidating somehow. The paper seems more real, considering I am getting paid for it. We'll see how we go. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>In the meantime, check this space for more interesting blogs in the near future. good night and good luck...<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-82342706650437669252008-07-25T13:03:00.001-04:002008-07-25T13:06:29.833-04:00the 21st centuryI have made a leap forward and joined the 21st century. <br /><br />I now have a My Space page.<br /><br />God, I love the Internets.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.myspace.com/stimp99">www.myspace.com/stimp99</a><br /><br />Enjoy...good night and good luck...stimpstimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-14693559923260057522008-06-23T21:18:00.003-04:002008-06-24T21:09:41.010-04:00PhilosophyJune 23, 2008<br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">June 23, 2008<?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">In the not too distant past, I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">achieved</span> a BA in philosophy. I remember arguing, more than once, that dead, white, Christian men from academia were not the only philosophers worthy of study. I believe at the time I was arguing the case for the study of Ayn Rand. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">I will make the case again, for George Carlin. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">We used to have speed trials, in my misspent youth, to see who could say the "seven words" fastest. We had no conception of what the argument was for the use of those words. Or that he fought to the Supreme Court to use them. Only that someone was saying the biggest, baddest cusses we ever heard, on purpose, to be funny. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">It was a long time before I discovered the philosophy part. How he talked about the use of language, and the way it's use affected our discourse. I suppose that sounds a lot nerdier than it's meant to. Frankly, he inspired me to use the word fat. I've been stealing some of his lines for years. "Dinosaurs are big boned." The use of euphemisms to shield ourselves from the truth. And the unvarnished, no bullshit look at what the truth was, as he saw it. Even something as benign as "Your stuff is shit, and my shit is stuff." opened a window. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">And he was incredible fucking funny. One of my favorite bits came during the close of one of his concerts. He unrolled an enormous list of things you couldn't say. Must have been six feet long. And he proceeded to release a comprehensive list of some of the funniest names and phrases I have ever heard. All language, in and of itself, that was not objectionable. But used in a certain way, filthy as hell. And funny. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">His books should be the basis for a master class in the use of language and culture in the late 20<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Th</span> century. His examination of American culture was flawless. He seemed to want us to think about who we are, what we believe in, and why we believe in it. And to laugh our asses off in the process. I will miss him. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits. Strangely...still satisfying. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="font-family:Georgia;">good night and good <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">luck</span>...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">stimp</span><o:p></o:p></span></p>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-27195200414100266172008-06-14T09:29:00.002-04:002008-06-14T09:49:30.702-04:00Sunday MorningJune 14, 2008<br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">In my house, Sunday Morning always started with basically the same conversation. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">"Mom, can I watch cartoons/play video games/watch a movie?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">"Later, honey, I'm watching "Meet The Press"" Or if I was feeling humorous "Press The Meat". </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Yeah, I know. I'm a hoot. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I don't claim to be any kind of journalist, as some of my blogging cohorts do. I've always been a loudmouthed housewife. But I know class when I see it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Tim Russert was class. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I watched him on TV for years, and never knew his political leanings. He was true neutral when asking our leaders, and wannabe leaders, everything I wanted to know. No partisan spin, just the facts. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I loved watching him covering the election campaigns, and watched no other network. He was on fire, and seemed to love every minute of it. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I loved "Meet The Press", because I felt like he was there asking the questions I would have asked, had I been smart enough to think of them. Many a show, I would listen and go, "Oh, yeah!". Why didn't I think of that? And as serious as it ever got, there was always a joy, and a sense of humor. Politics was taken seriously, but he never seemed to take himself too seriously. He was never one of those pontificating blowhards bringing the truth down from the mountain. He was us, only faster and smarter. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I love politics, and all the annoying discussions and details that drive my family nuts. Watching a guy dive into the process with such joy was a treat. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I spent yesterday watching grown men cry on TV, over the loss of a friend. My heart is a little broken too. And I regret losing the opportunity to continue teaching my son the civics lesson of American politics, with Tim Russert as our guide. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">I guess Sunday mornings will belong to SpongeBob. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;">Good rest, and bright blessings Mr. Russert. And thank you. Good night and good luck...stimp</span>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-88603687824305919822008-05-01T21:13:00.002-04:002008-05-01T21:32:44.198-04:00Anger Accomplished<em>May 1, 2008</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Every night, Countdown ends with Keith <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Olbermann</span> reminding us how many days since W declared "Mission Accomplished" in Iraq. Today is the fifth anniversary of that statement. As he was discussing the matter with Rachael <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Maddow</span> tonight, he wondered where the anger over this has gone. How to tap again into that anger. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Olbermann</span>, the anger has never gone away. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I have been angry about this war since before the war started. I yelled, and hollered, and argued, and wrote, and protested. All to no avail. I have been beaten down verbally and threatened physically by total strangers over this horror. I keep my sadness and anger to myself mostly. But it is always there. And every time I hear of more soldiers <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">and</span> civilians dying, it's there. Every time that idiot in the White House asks for more money to carry it on, it's there. It's never gone. But the expression of it is, for the most part. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I can't scream everyday without losing my voice. My anger has served no one. It hasn't saved one life, or one day, or one dollar. I never stop being against this horrid war. My conviction is the same. But what would you have me do? I will continue to speak, write, and be involved. But until we get the murdering thugs out of the White House, and get some common sense in, my voice is nothing more than air with some noise on it. And my anger is still intact. I just ran out of energy after a while. The best thing about beating your head against a brick wall is how good it feels when you stop. It doesn't hurt the wall. Good night and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-5338836902028021712008-04-30T21:40:00.002-04:002008-04-30T21:59:48.758-04:00Brains.....BRAINS!!<em>April 30, 2008</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I have been listening to the term "elitist" being thrown around like a discus lately. Oops, I said discus instead of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">frisbee</span>! Could I also be...an elitist! I don't watch American Idol or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">NASCAR</span>. I get great enjoyment from non-fiction books. I like foreign films. Oh, Heavens! Maybe I am an elitist!</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Oh, bullshit. My favorite word, the one that gets the most use, is the "F" word. I wear old t-shirts and sweat pants. I like beer, American Gladiators, and football. Maybe I'm just a regular <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Stimp</span>. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Why are we making all this fuss about being intelligent? That seems to be the bottom line here. The smart guy, the nerdy one, one that might have gone to college, can't possibly understand what it is like to be poor, or relate to the problems of the working class. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Except what happens when you get your education, and you never leave the working class. What if you are smart, and well educated, and don't go too far from the tree? Why <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">must</span> smart people pretend to be otherwise?</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>This has really been brought home to me this campaign season. I remember when they were saying that W. was the candidate more people felt they could have a beer with. I don't know about you, but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">when</span> I am selecting a president, I don't want a beer buddy. I want someone smart enough to think for themselves! I want someone who has read a few books, maybe had a few original thoughts. Why in the world were folks more impressed by W's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">down home</span> manner than Al Gore's intellect? Of course Gore was stiff! Nerds usually are. I want a nerd for president. I want a president who makes me proud of my geeky roots. Doing shots, or bowling, or yukking it up with a drawl doesn't impress me. I want to stop feeling like a freak because I like books. I want a leader I can imagine reading one!</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>So I guess, even with my working class background, I must be an elitist. There are worse things I could be. Like an idiot. Or a pretender. or W. good night and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-22128114155446844652008-04-12T18:19:00.002-04:002008-04-12T18:48:46.283-04:00Welcome to the Steel Valley<em>April 12, 2008</em><br /><em></em><br />"You go into some of these small towns in Pennsylvania, and like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nothing's</span> replaced them," <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Obama</span> said. "And they fell through the Clinton Administration, and the Bush Administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate and they have not. And it's not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."<br /><br /><em><span style="font-family:verdana;">Senator <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Barack</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Obama</span></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;">When I first heard about this statement, I knew Senator <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Obama</span> was going to get a lot of abuse for it. But he's not wrong. The truth isn't elitist. It's just true. Instead of talking about Pennsylvania, he could be talking about my home in Northeast Ohio. </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;">The steel mills closed here, for the most part, in the '70's. They still call it the "Steel Valley", even without steel mills for all these years. I was a child when those mills closed. Since then, I have lived here through the moving of Packard Electric (now Delphi) jobs to Mexico. Countless industrial jobs have gone from here, from the GM plant, to the mills, up to the closing of the aluminum plant where my husband worked, which closed last month. Thousands of people have lost their jobs. </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I have also lived through politicians of many campaigns, Democrat and Republican alike. They come through here every four years like locusts. And every one, from Clinton to Bush, to Clinton to Bush to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Obama</span> to McCain, talk about "moving the Valley forward" again. They make promises of jobs, and money, and protection for the jobs that are left. And then they leave, taking their promises with them. Is it any wonder folks are bitter? If we turn to God, can it be that we feel failed by Man? If folks are afraid of immigrants, maybe it's because it's harder to remember your family were once immigrants too, when your job has just gone overseas. </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;">But I make no excuses for those bitter souls left here. We spend our time talking about and living in the past. Right up to the nickname, "Steel Valley". There hasn't been much steel in this valley for a long time. While we cannot forget the things that made this place strong, we must move past them. Those jobs aren't coming back. Ever. As long as cheap labor exists elsewhere, and the almighty dollar is more important to executives and politicians than American workers, industry will continue to be sent to the lowest bidder. If we are so concerned about "homeland security", why aren't we protecting one of our greatest assets? Our ability to stand on our own. </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;">But economics and industry aren't my interest here. Senator <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Obama's</span> comments are. I am the proud daughter of a man who spent his life working for Packard Electric, only to be cast off as too expensive. In the '80's, my dad told me not to depend on the mills. He said he was a dinosaur, and that the jobs wouldn't last. He was right. I was born and raised blue collar Democrat. I got to go to college to make a better life. And I am still here in the Steel Valley. People here still talk about the mill closings. And they are bitter. Sometimes we don't want to see ourselves for who we have become, spoken in the bluntest of terms. But we still are. good night and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">stimp</span></span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-35502581508959086822008-03-31T21:07:00.002-04:002008-03-31T21:19:27.597-04:00News of Record<em>March 31, 2008</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Today is the 5<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Th</span> anniversary of the start of my favorite television program, Countdown with Keith <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Olbermann</span>. I know I tend to wax rhapsodic when I speak of Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Olbermann</span>. I've been watching him in various incarnations since <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sportscenter</span>. But looking back, I think there should be more to it than that. I think that the show is more important than my fleeting hormonal enjoyment. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>In a vast landscape of "everything is just fine" news, he is a voice of reason. He gets angry about injustice. He is tenacious in his opinion. Even when I don't agree, and sometimes I don't, I admire his passion. The show is a voice of difference in a corporate media structure that allows precious little dissent. I greatly admire Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Olbermann</span> and his show, and I wish him five score years of prosperity and success. Keep up the great work, Keith. And in tribute to you, and the great journalist you honor, I sign off as I always do. good night and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-58996443726932049862008-03-31T13:15:00.002-04:002008-03-31T13:31:11.846-04:00That dog won't hunt<em>March 31, 2008</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I'm listening to all this discussion about whether Senator Clinton should withdraw from the primaries left to be run. All the talking heads yammering "She can't win, It's dividing the party". Blah, blah, blah. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>First, let me make it clear, I have been supporting Senator Obama. I don't have anything against Senator Clinton, I just like him better. I've been a Democrat since I could vote, and in the general election, I'd vote for either. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>The thing that bothers me is this. This is getting to be a real ugly fight. Both sides are trying to tear each other down, and this does no good for any of us. Let Senator Clinton run til all the votes are cast. That's democracy. Let the process see itself through. But for Pete's sake, let's stop putting weapons into the hands of the opposition! Every time we Democrats offer up insults, throw nasty barbs, detonate bombs, we are giving the other side ammunition for the general election. It's evident that the Repugnicans are going to have plenty of time to get ready for whoever is nominated. Why hand them the clubs to beat us? If you can't win with your own good campaign, why malign the other opponent, making it easier for the Repugs to do it later? Seems fairly simple to me. Clinton and Obama both have their soft spots, just like McCain does. Let's at least try to be civilized while we still can. good night and good luck...stimp</em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-27161555405888228382008-03-20T12:43:00.002-04:002008-03-20T12:56:28.586-04:00Good sports, or "Hey, those guys should get paid, too"<em>March 20, 2008</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I am a life long Yankees fan. So what I am about to say is going to cause me to flinch a little. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Today, I am really impressed with the Boston Red <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Sox</span>. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>In a story I heard on Countdown, and reread on Dan Patrick.com, the essentials are thus. </em><br /><em>The Red <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Sox</span> are supposed to go to Japan next week for the season opener against the Oakland A's. The players for both teams will receive extra compensation for the trip to the Tokyo Dome. The coaches and managers, the important support personnel, would not receive the compensation. They had in the last two years, but it was not included in the negotiations or contract for this year. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Boston's players didn't think this was fair. So they voted not to go, unless the others got paid as well. From what I can tell, Oakland's players basically agreed. Not only were the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Sox</span> not going to Japan, they weren't going to play last night's spring training game. It was finally decided that everyone would be equally compensated on the Red <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sox</span> side. Oakland is still working out the details, from what I gather. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>In a sports world where there are constant scandals about cheating, bad behavior, horrible ticket prices, and a variety of naughtiness, I am blown away by one team's act of fairness. Of thinking of someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">else's</span> treatment. With all the nastiness in the world, two groups of pro athletes said, "All for one, and one for all", and intended to stick to it. Fair is fair. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>So, for today, hurray for the Boston Red <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Sox</span>!</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I'll return to hating you later. good night and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-55573849337094833302008-03-18T23:09:00.002-04:002008-03-18T23:27:56.017-04:00A More Perfect Union<em>March 18, 2008</em><br /><em></em><br />"This was one of the tasks we set forth at the beginning of this campaign - to continue the long march of those who came before us, a march for a more just, more equal, more free, more caring and more prosperous America. I chose to run for the presidency at this moment in history because I believe deeply that we cannot solve the challenges of our time unless we solve them together - unless we perfect our union by understanding that we may have different stories, but we hold common hopes; that we may not look the same and we may not have come from the same place, but we all want to move in the same direction - towards a better future for of children and our grandchildren."<br /><br />Senator Barack Obama, Philadelphia, PA<br /><br /><em>Why do we still need someone to remind us of these things in 2008? I saw the video of Reverend Wright's comments in his sermon. I don't agree with some of the things he said. I don't agree with racial divisiveness. I wish we were past this by now. But we're not. There are people in this country who hate and avoid each other based only on the shade of pigment. I know some of these people, of a variety of colors. </em><br /><br /><em>Why, with all that is going on in the world, good and bad, do we need to take time out because we still don't get it? Why do I have to explain to my son the ugly words we use to talk about one another? Why am I 40 plus years old, and still wincing when I hear the "N word", no matter who says it? Why am I still hearing the "N word", or any other racial epithet, to begin with?</em> <em>I don't agree with Senator Obama's pastor, but I don't assume they share all the same views. And to an extent, I understand Rev. Wright's views as much as is possible for a white woman from Ohio. I haven't lived his life. Neither has Barack Obama. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I am not sure what troubles me more. That we are still divided by race. That a man running for President has to stop talking about what he wants to accomplish, in order to defend himself regarding something he didn't even say himself. We need to focus on what we can do about the things that trouble us, the progress we need to make. And I think we need to move past the things that divide us. Not forgetting them, not ignoring them. But marking them, and then moving on to the things we need to solve now. I would like America to become and ever more perfect union. For my family and families yet to come. As long as we are still fighting over our past, we can't move into our future. good night and good luck...stimp</em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-80642030003435846612008-03-14T21:41:00.004-04:002008-03-14T22:06:48.974-04:00A Boy's Life<em><span style="color:#000000;">March 14, 2004</span></em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I was thinking about boy's adventure stories. The old ones. Where the cowboys were always fighting the Indians, and might always made right. Before I lost my innocence. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I wonder if, with all that has happened on his watch, our president still has his. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>At least when it comes to war. I was watching the news tonight, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">and</span> there was a story about the President making a conference call to our troops in Afghanistan. In part of his remarks, he said that he was envious of those serving there. That there was something romantic in the war, that it was a fantastic adventure. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Spoken like someone who has never had to go. I don't claim to understand in full what people experience in war. I've never been there. But I'm not sure "romantic" or "adventure" are words I would use. I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">have</span> relatives from WWII who wouldn't discuss what they saw there. I've met people who fought in Vietnam who were never the same, and fought the demons ever after. I lived at Central Command in Tampa during Gulf War I, and remember how frightened I was that someone I loved would have to go. And this time, I've seen family and friends leave, and waited for them to come back in one piece. I am a peripheral player at most. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>But I do pay attention. Do you, Mr. Bush? You've been to Walter Reed to see the men and women sent back in pieces. Does that seem like a fantastic adventure to you? As Commander in Chief, you see, or I assume you see, the reports about the hardships our military and their families VOLUNTARILY go through while apart. The horrors of battle, for both the soldiers and civilians in Iraq and Afghanistan, that never cease. This seems romantic? Actually, this puts a lot of things in perspective. Mr. Bush is living in a movie, in one of the patriotic stories written in years past to keep <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">every one's</span> chins up during the hard times in war. From that perspective, maybe I can see it. If you assume those stories are true, or were fed those stories as part of your manhood or patriotism, war must seem a great adventure indeed. Next time you go to see the troops, instead of spouting off your rhetoric, listen to the kind of adventures these folks have been having while they were away. On this 5<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Th</span> anniversary of the start of the Iraq war, listen to the reality, instead of tall Texas tales. Maybe that will suck some of the romance out of it for you. I doubt it will spur you to end this insanity, but maybe sharing the nightmares will keep you from saying anything else stupid...oh, wait. I forgot who I was talking about. Never mind. good night and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-44158752986761382882008-03-09T11:32:00.002-04:002008-03-09T11:50:55.811-04:00Where's spring?March 9, 2008<br /><br />I AM SICK. AND <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">FREAKIN</span>' TIRED. OF <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">FREAKIN</span>' SNOW!<br /><br />I know I live in Ohio. I know it is only March. I know it's not spring yet, officially. But really. Could Mother Nature throw me a bone already? I get one day of nice warm weather, and then two days of a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">freakin</span>' blizzard. My ride home last night got stuck in my driveway. I think they said we got 11 inches of snow between yesterday and Friday. <br /><br />I am a total pussy when it comes to driving on snow. A panic attack having, hyperventilating, calling off work pussy. But I just finally got a new job. And since I work in a hospital now, I have to get there no matter what. I am fine with that. I like my job. And the last two days, I managed to find rides so I didn't have to drive. For which I send up hosannas to the gods, and great thanks to those who helped. Today I was going to have to get there on my own. I went out at 10:30 with two shovels, my ten-year-old, and one of my neighbors to dig my car out. My neighbor even managed to get the car to move, no small miracle in itself. What happens next, you ask? Turns out after an hour of digging, I have a flat tire and can't get it fixed until tomorrow anyway! The gods conspire against me! Fortunately, I have a wonderful friend, who has kindly agreed to come (on her day off) and give me a ride. <br /><br />But I want spring. I'm ready for it like you can't believe. I need rain and warmer breezes. A little sunshine would be nice. I want to sit on my porch and read a book. To let my kid play outside without having to put three layers of clothes on him. To get to and from work without sliding all over the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">freakin</span>' road. I want green grass, and to see my roses bloom. To plant flowers and putter around in the garden. I want to put my dog out to pee without having him look at me like I'm insane before he goes out in the yard. I don't expect Florida weather in Ohio. But a little break from all the ice, snow, and cold would be welcome. Come on, Spring! good night, and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">stimp</span>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-21465709498866670922008-03-06T14:13:00.003-05:002008-03-06T14:27:57.503-05:00An inconvenient question<strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">March 6, 2008</span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Last night, in the aftermath of the Ohio primary, my son asked me a question. He wanted to know what the first thing I would want him to do was if he were elected president. Sadly, the first thing that came out was, "I would tell you not to run for president". And he wanted to know why. </span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">I did tell him that if he chose to serve his country in that way, I would be very proud of him. That being president was a very difficult job, and a great honor. And that I would want world peace, and that no one would be hungry or homeless, without a job or good health care. He decided that he would rather be a musician, and help the homeless in his spare time. </span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">But I am rather sad that my first response was not to do it at all. I have always been proud to be an American. Even when we did things I couldn't be proud of or agree with. I think we aspire to be the most generous, best nation on Earth. Sometimes we fall short, like everyone does. We are only human after all. </span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">In my lifetime, I have seen what being the leader of this nation can do to a person. I have watched Presidents grow old before their time, careworn and hard used. The first president I can clearly remember is Carter. He seemed so young and smiling when he first got to Washington. But by the time he left office, to my child's eyes, he seemed to have aged twenty years. All the pressure and responsibility kind of sucked the life out of him. I'm not sure I would want that for my son. </span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"></span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Looking at the folks who wish to be president this time, I wonder how the office will change them. Even when I don't like them, I think it takes something unusual to want to give your life to this country for four or eight years. Men have been broken by less. I'm not sure I would choose that life for my son. Public service is noble, and none <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">more so</span> than President of The United States. But I think, in the long run, I'd rather he were a musician. I'll be proud of him either way. good night and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">stimp</span></span></em></strong>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-29013617601621697642008-02-27T17:19:00.002-05:002008-02-27T17:21:42.028-05:00I'm baaaccccckkkk!!!!<em><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc33cc;">February 27, 2008</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;">Hey I heard you missed me. I'm back! Got my Internets reinstalled at home again. So I can once again participate in the mighty blogosphere. As I am always saying at work...we'll see how we go....good night and good luck...stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-12532581581889202512008-01-19T12:22:00.000-05:002008-01-19T12:43:29.643-05:00You Must Be Kidding<em><span style="font-family:verdana;">January 19, 2008</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;">I don't get to watch as many talking heads as I used to. So I have been listening to lots of local talk radio lately. Lots of Rush...ick. I can't believe how much he is yakking about the "Uncivil War". Talk about things getting blown out of all sense. I am sure that Sen. Clinton never meant to imply that Martin Luther King was a pawn of the White Establishment. That he could have never succeeded in his life's work without the help of LBJ. But Johnson was able to make law and twist arms precisely because Dr. King was bringing attention to the inequities of the system. If President Johnson hadn't had the ability to twist arms and cajole Congress, how much longer would it have taken to see even the smallest of changes? Both men's contribution was necessary to bring change. Which leads me to my point. </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;"> We spend a horrifying amount of time being offended, or looking for offense, in our wondrous free speech. I don't like everything that comes out of everyone's mouth. I'd personally like to duct tape Rev. Phelps's mouth shut. Having said that, I don't think we remember the "free" part of free speech. Short of inciting violence, even the speech we don't like is necessary. After all, how do we know where the crazies are if they don't speak up? We spend so much time being offended anymore, we don't take time to think over what is bothering us. Another example is the unfortunate comments made by that one commentator on the Golf Channel. I know she suggested lynching Tiger Woods in a back alley. But if Tiger wasn't offended, and no one was really advocating stretching his neck, why are we freaking out? The point was, he is such a great golfer, that nothing short of violence will stop him. As long as we all understand what she meant, I think we need to chill out. I understand the history of violence against people of color in this country. But is the overreaction against a commentator on the GOLF CHANNEL really going to change a climate of racism? Or are we making ourselves look petty by reacting to every imagined insult, no matter how benignly it was meant? I saw this morning that the editor of Golf Digest lost his job, and the current issue was pulled, because they chose to bring attention to the current debate by putting a noose on the cover. But was there a reasonable discussion of the subject, or was this another knee jerk, get them before they get you, look out, it's Janet Jackson's nipple kind of hysteria. I don't agree with everthing that comes from everyone's mouth. But jamming a cork in the mouths of those we disagree with jeopardizes our free speech, as well. We need to get over ourselves. good night and good luck...stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-87116518487118706872008-01-07T13:34:00.000-05:002008-01-07T13:41:26.751-05:00Hellooooo!<em><span style="font-family:arial;">January 7, 2008</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Arial;">Happy New Year! I know I haven't been around, and I certainly miss writing. A few notes to pass on. Keith Olbermann's new book is awesome, in the non surfer sense of the word. I highly recommend it. We are in Presidential election season again, and I am backing Barack Obama this time. He seems a great choice in an otherwise uninspiring lot. I wanted to choose Senator Clinton, I really did. But the more I listen, the more I watch, the less I can get behind her. A shame. We are still sending folks off to die for that idiot in the White House and his pals, which becomes more frustrating over time. This time I have family going, so I get to spend some more time in anger and anxiety, waiting for news, hoping for none. I'll pray. To all fo you who still check in, thank you, and happy new year. good night and good luck...stimp</span></em>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-91707311734615202872007-09-30T13:00:00.000-04:002007-09-30T13:20:49.942-04:00Life, Death, Misery, and Blog Maintenance<em>September 30, 2007</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I missed you, whoever you are. I have had a Godawful time blogging, what with no Internet and all. But I have been writing, on the chance I'd finally get to post. So here are some of the things that have been on my mind the last few months. Gods willing, I'll be a better blogger in the future. good night and good luck...stimp</em><br /><em></em><br />May 22, 2007<br /><br />I miss the rest of the world. <br /><br />That sounds (or looks) really bizarre, but it’s true. I miss the rest of the world. Desperately. It is strange when you spend most of your life denying technology, to admit that there is a part of it that has become almost necessary. But I have come to that conclusion about the Internet. I don’t miss my phone. Most of the time, my phone calls involved someone wanting money from me in one fashion or another. I don’t get any more calls about who has done what to whom recently. Other than the continuing drama that is my own real life, it’s actually pretty nice not to have the phone ring. But the Web was where I got mail I wanted, talked to friends, socialized, and kept track of all the events in the wide world from a variety of sources. I got to chat with newfound friends about the war, or the world, or the tie Keith Olbermann happened to be wearing on the show this evening. I am now as cut off from that world as if it never existed. I miss watching the news all day. I feel tremendously ignorant of what is happening around me. One half hour of network news, no matter who does it, doesn’t get the job done. <br /><br />I miss my blog. I know that very, very few people actually read the thing. But I am proud of stimp and the world. I think I was learning to write, really write, by writing there. I was learning how to say what I meant with economy, thought, and a style of my own. I am proud of that. I must admit that I keep most of these sentiments to myself. With things here the way they are, I would not want to make things worse by complaining about something that there is no cure for. Still, the quiet and isolation is sometimes overwhelming. Believe it or not, even I can read only so many books. I can only watch so many movies. I can play only so much Dungeons and Dragons, although that is one of the few times I interact with people who don’t actually live with me. <br /><br />I think the isolation was brought home most vividly today. One of my oldest friends stopped by to see us today. We rattled on for a little while about the horror of doctors, nurses, lawyers, and workman’s comp. And when I asked my friend how things were going with him, he told me that his mother has passed away. A week ago. I knew nothing about it. If I had a phone, one of my friends would have called me. There are probably several emails on the subject I haven’t seen, having no access to email. And so someone I care about, whom I have been a friend with for 20 years, could not receive support and condolence from our family, because we knew nothing about it. <br /><br />I really miss the rest of the world. Maybe someday I will post this on the blog, to document this time as well as the other blithering idiocy I usually carry on about. Until then…good night and good luck…stimp<br /><br /><br /><br />September 13, 2007<br /><br />Far Too Long<br /><br />There are ways to tell if you have been away from other people for far too long. I must admit that my life is fairly solitary at the moment, what with all that is going on lately. I don’t go out much, have limited phone conversations, limited internet access, and few people stop here. Don’t seem to be able to get a job, so all in all, I don’t get around. That sounds way whinier than I mean it to be. For the most part I don’t mind. No phone means no irritating calls from people I don’t know trying to sell me things. I admit, not having 24-hour news makes me feel more cut off than lack of phone does. But I noticed some things that are signs that I haven’t been out in way too long. I was sitting here a bit ago, playing a “Wheel Of Fortune” computer game. That is a bad sign in and of itself. Pat and Vanna get on my nerves, and this game only has Vanna. But when I start thinking to myself that I really hate Player Three, that “she” is a total bitch, and Player Three is a computer, this may be a bad sign. Besides family, for whom I am grateful, my entire social interaction lately has been comprised of “Dungeons & Dragons” games every Saturday, and funerals. The only new people I have met were at the funerals, and my son’s school open house. I met his new teachers. Banner night. When I am watching football games on Sunday night I don’t care about because I dig the witty repartee between Bob Costas and Keith Olbermann, I need to get out more. The fact that I am complaining in a blog article that will get saved to a file when I am done, and I may or may not remember to put on a disc to take to the library and post on the site is pathetic. This may never see the light of day, but I will be damned if I don’t write it anyway. The fact that I am writing it at 2:53 am instead of sleeping is not a good sign. But perhaps it is better to be writing than worrying about not being asleep. Some interaction is better than none at all. The fact that I still have clarity of mind enough to write is good. I am worried lately about my ability to focus. I am jumpy and easily distracted. I sleep too much during the day, or not at all. Things are so fucked up right now that even my old weird normal would be an improvement. I miss my life. I try not to think about it too much, but I really do. I miss my therapist. I miss cable. I miss Keith Olbermann, and “Mythbusters”, and “Ninja Warrior”. I am sick of CSI this, and Law and Order that. I want to watch Sportscenter. I miss playing this one trivia contest on the local radio station’s website. I miss my friends at the O.o, and streaming internet radio. Maybe it’s not being alone too long, but losing almost everything all at once, and having this massive gap where my life used to be. By now, I should be accustomed to the way things are. They have been like this for a while. Hanging on a thread, and having it set on fire. Maybe the little things are what kept me from thinking about how scary it has gotten. <br /><br />Even so…Player Three is still a bitch. Good night and good luck…stimp<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Happy Birthday to me…<br /><br /><br />Today is my 41st birthday. I am not planning anything extraordinary to celebrate. A return to my blog, as I have several entries saved to post. A trip to the library, to check my email, and get fresh books and movies. My folks are bringing me one of my favorite foods, cabbage rolls with sauerkraut, and a pineapple upside down cake. My sweet husband asked his mom to bake me a cake. My birthday, in the past, had held unpleasant surprises. I am hoping for none of those, but I am not counting on it. I was thinking of some other things, unlikely as some of them are, that I wish I would have for my birthday. <br /><br />I wish I had cable and the internet again. I hate feeling disconnected from the rest of the world. I wish my newly repaired Xbox 360 would get here today. My kid would be in seventh heaven if it did. I wish those assholes would quit fighting it and give my husband the medical attention and temporary disability he needs. He is in pain, and I hate it. I get angrier everyday about the flaming hoops he has to go through to get fair Worker’s Comp benefits. We’ve been fighting at least nine months. I wish I had a job. I have been looking for one, but a fat manic-depressive in her forties is not good job material, I guess. Sure would help though. I wish I could go and sing with all of my friends. I used to throw the best birthday parties for myself. After all, if you throw your own party, you know exactly what you are going to get. I miss my friends. I wish the war were over. My kid asked me about the whole “Mission Accomplished” thing last night. I explained to him about the political concept of “bullshit”. He is too young to have to worry about all of that, but this horrifying stuff has touched his life as surely as the ones of all the adults he knows. His cousin has already done one tour of duty in Iraq. I wish I had more money, more groceries, health insurance, and a big fat Borders gift card. (Not everything on this list is deadly serious!) I wish I had a day at a spa, with a massage, hair styling, a manicure, the works. A day of beauty, or at least as close as I can get considering what I have to start with. I wish I had an autographed picture of Keith Olbermann. I wish I could sing with Meat Loaf, somewhere other than in my car. (I said some of this stuff is silly!) I wish I could go to Florida and see my friend Lisa. I miss her. <br /><br />Mostly I wish for peace. Peace on Earth, peace of mind, peace of spirit. Those are a lot harder to come by, and not likely to come with a bow on my birthday. Good night, and good luck…stimp<br /><br /><br /><br />Songs<br /><br />There are songs for everything. Unfortunately. There is also no way to control how songs are sometimes used. I hate hearing Electric Light Orchestra or Beatles songs used in commercials. Didn’t there used to be a whole profession of people who wrote catchy songs for ads? Anyway, I was making a playlist of songs I wanted to hear this morning, and it occurred to me to share some of them with others. You, the six of you reading this, being the others. So here I go.<br /><br />An unexpected song: “I’m Coming Home” from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Of all the wonderful songs to come from the spectacular silliness of that movie. I love that movie, and that song. <br /><br />A sexy song: “Cry To Me” by Solomon Burke. Anyone who has ever seen Dirty Dancing knows this song. Think of Baby and Johnny in his cottage. Enough said. <br /><br />A song for a good day: “Do Ya” by Electric Light Orchestra. The opening guitar chords are enough to put a smile on my face. <br /><br />Anything by “Weird” Al Yankovic. I adore “Weird” Al. My favorite is “One More Minute” from the album “Dare To Be Stupid”. One of my sisters is also partial to “Amish Paradise”. And head over to You Tube and watch the “White and Nerdy” video, complete with Donny Osmond. I dare you not to laugh. <br /><br />Barry Manilow and Neil Diamond: Okay, stop laughing. I love these guys. Good, clean emotional songs to sing to. “Could It Be Magic” is one of my favorite songs ever. I even have a disco version. <br /><br />Bette Midler singing “Stay With Me” on the Divine Madness soundtrack. I sing along, badly, usually crying my eyes out at the same time. <br /><br />Gods, there are too many. Bobby Darin and “If I Were A Carpenter”. Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road”. “Beginnings”, a wonderful Chicago song I sang to my husband on our wedding day. The Dells singing “Stay In My Corner”. Dolly Parton’s simple, original version of “I Will Always Love You”. I have a live version of The Doors singing “Gloria” that is so sexy and raunchy, I listen to it alone. “Bernadette” by The Four Tops. So longing and desperate. Janis Joplin. Johnny Cash covering “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails. The song is different, but the exquisite pain is the same. “This Woman’s Work” by Kate Bush. The song they keep playing a bit of the current “CSI” promos. Meat Loaf. Otis Redding. Prince. Randy Newman singing “Political Science” or “Burn On”. Go look for “Songs For Dustmites” by Steve Burns. Yes, the “Blue’s Clues” Steve Burns. The whole album is amazing. The long live versions of “Everytime You Go Away” by Hall and Oates, or “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel. <br /><br />Wow. There is way more of this than I originally thought. I was looking at my personal playlist on my computer while I made the list, and there must be 200 more songs I could list. But like 500 lawyers at the bottom of Lake Erie, it’s a good start. Good listening! Good night and good luck…stimp<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />George<br /><br />An old friend of mine is gone, at least for now. I knew a wonderful man named George. I met him twenty years ago, when I went to work at McDonald’s. I hated working at McD’s. Both times. But somehow, hanging around with George made it better. I left McDonald’s, got married, moved away, moved home, got divorced. But George was still here. Not at the Golden Arches anymore, but still home, going to college, just like when I left. We took up more or less where we left off. I was older, sadder, but no wiser, I think. But George was still George, funny, sweet, same as he ever was. I got to know him a bit better this time around. I saw he was troubled, and sad too much. He still joked around, but now I could see some of what was beneath, and sometimes we talked about it. He wouldn’t talk much, though. If he hadn’t talked me into it, I probably would not have spent time with the man who is my sweet husband, and has been for the last eleven years. Because I wouldn’t have joined the “Star Trek” fan club they both belonged to. When we learned we were having a baby, George would come and see me at work, with a huge list of silly suggestions for baby names. I think it is by the grace of the gods that my son isn’t John Paul George Ringo, instead of Alexander. He would make me laugh forever with suggested names. He used to tell me that George was a great name, and if it was a girl, we could name her Georgia. He showed me Monty Python, for which I am eternally grateful. He was generous to a fault sometimes. If I said I might want to get a CD of someone’s music, he might show up next visit with all the CDs he had of them. When I sang charity karaoke, he would show up, donate $20, and request I sing the silliest things. Like “Safety Dance” or songs from “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”, which we had gone to see forever ago. I’d sing anything he asked, as long as I knew it. He never failed to make me laugh, cry, or do both at the same time. <br /><br />My friend died way too young last week, at 39. He was, as usual, alone. It was a freak accident, and no one knew. The sad thing was the “alone” part. I try not to think about it much. And when I found out, my heart was broken. Will be for a long time, I think. All around my home, I see things that remind me. My “Monty Python” movies. The DVD of “Rocky Horror”, with the figurines he gave us for Christmas one year. My Princess Leia slave girl doll. We were alumni of the same university. And every time I think of him, in a way I wish he hadn’t kept me at arm’s length quite so much. I wish he had let us give back as much as he gave us. <br /><br /> There is a picture of him on my desk now. He and my brother in law, who were also friends from that long ago fan club, are wearing kilts. They were in a contest. I like to remember him that way. Being with a friend, doing something maybe a little silly. It helps to ease the sadness of knowing I can’t be silly with him anymore. I can never explain all the things he was, all the things he meant to me. But I miss him, every day right now, very much. Wherever he is, I hope he is having a Guinness and a laugh. Hopefully, someday I’ll join him, with all those I loved, and have a laugh over all the silly shit that happened since last we met. And maybe sing the “Spam” song. See you on the other side, George. Good night and good luck…stimpstimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21834326.post-65617251575259192622007-04-11T23:39:00.000-04:002007-04-11T23:52:50.098-04:00shut up, speak up<em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I was originally going to come here and rail about the Imus train wreck/Duke Lacrosse case. There were parallels of speech and accountability, which I am now going to save for another day. </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Kurt Vonnegut is dead. </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I just heard about it listening to Lionel, and zipped over to the New York Times to get the full story. He was 84 years old. </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">He was one of my heroes. When I was in college the first time, at eighteen, and in the time thereafter, I made explorations which have affected my whole life. I read Orwell, Bradbury, Huxley. I read assembled columns of the Village Voice. I read Tom Wolfe, and the voices of the generation before mine. And I read Vonnegut. </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">At first I didn't get it. I understood it on the surface, but deep down, it took a while to assimilate. I still have copies of "Slaughterhouse-Five" and "Cat's Cradle", among others. His works were strange, and funny, and weird. I loved them. </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I suggest that if you haven't read his work, you should. And if you have, you should again. Geniuses, true ones, are hard to come by. Best to embrace and remember the ones we have. There was a quote in the Times article I liked, and wanted to finish with. </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span></em><br />“Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies, you’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ve</span> got about a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies — ‘God damn it, you’<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ve</span> got to be kind.’ ”<br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ffcc00;">Sound advice. Good night and good luck...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">stimp</span></span>stimphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14361589545829226019noreply@blogger.com0