Wednesday, August 21, 2013

A Poem From Middle Age.



Getting old is for the birds.  

Not the plumed Finches or painted Buntings
But for the steamrolling Doves 
That try to monopolize the bird feeders. 

 Because that's what old feel like some days.

Be the cranky old bully of a Dove.
Chase the bright young upstarts away,
Defend the hard-earned prime perch,
     by the buffet of life.

Just want them to leave me in peace.

Fine to sit where they like,  but not too close.
Not blocking my view.   
Nor anywhere In my field of vision, really.

It's a brave new anti-social world, getting older.

Hey, You! get off the lawn.  
And don't think you can creep back 
When the grey beast falls asleep.

The dark spots on these great grey wings? 

An extra set of eyes. 
They will see everything. 
They have seen everything.

SQUAWK!

Saturday, February 9, 2013

On Nemo and the Climate Quibble

As morning dawns in the Northeast on Nemogeddon (and on another beautiful spring-like day in Texas), My Facebook feed is once again filling with small barbs of the great Climate Change debate: "Are human industrial emissions negatively impacting the Earth's climate?"

And once again I find myself wondering if this argument that is taking up so much cumulative human time and emotion even matters.

First, let me say I don't think "belief" comes into play here.  Either the science will prove that human-generated industrial emissions affect the climate..  or it will prove that they don't, or it will remain so mired in political claptrap and emotion that we will never come up with a definitive, unbiased scientific answer.    

 So I don't pretend to have any idea whether human emissions are actually accelerating climate change.  But I am beginning to suspect that, while it's an interesting academic question,  THE ANSWER DOESN'T REALLY MATTER THAT MUCH. Certainly not enough to divide friendships and ruin family gatherings.  

Before you start throwing sharpened icicles in my general direction, please hear me out:

By saying it doesn't matter, I mean that it shouldn't significantly affect our private and public choices about dealing with emissions, energy sources, and preparations for living with the effects of a changing climate. Here are some of my reasonings:



1) Whether  human emissions contribute or not, we know the climate is changing. Always has, always will. Science has found plenty of proof that there were planet-wide cooling and warming trends on scales of both centuries and millennia before the industrial age, and even before humans walked the Earth.  There is no reason to expect natural climate fluctuations will ever stop.  Even if we stopped all emissions cold-turkey, today, the climate will still change. That means still need to expect and adapt to changing water tables and weather patterns, melting ice caps, etc...

2) Whether or not human actions (emissions among them) affect climate change, they certainly will have some kind of cumulative effect on the earth.  Science has proven time and again that even the smallest changes in an ecology's chemistry eventually affects the ecological and biological balance.  This is part of the natural order of things-also known as evolution.  As long as changes occur slowly, the world has adapted to them.  Some species go extinct, others evolve to fill the gaps...   But we've also seen that if ecology changes occur too quickly, (sometimes caused by short-sighted human intervention) nature (and humans) can't always adapt fast enough.    So  it makes sense that we should probably practice caution, and minimize creating potential drastic ecological changes as much as we can, especially till we really know without doubt what the full impacts  are. 

3) There is a finite supply of fossil fuels. The earth doesn't make gas and oil as fast as we use it. This is clearly known.  So regardless of ecological impacts of burning fossil fuels,  we're eventually going to run out and need alternatives.... And it's probably better to have those in place and economically viable before we run out of the old stuff. 


Just some random thoughts on a slow Saturday morning.... If you think the answer to the climate change question really does matter, Why?

Thursday, September 6, 2012

An Open Letter to our Elected Officialls

First, an apology.  I'm sure everyone is a sick of politics as I am at this point. So I'm rather sorry to bring it up.

 

But writing brings my thoughts into focus, and brings me sanity.. And today, I really need to get some more non-partisan (perhaps even anti-partisan?) frustrations off my chest.  
++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dear US and State Government Elected Politicians and Candidates, of All Parties:

We, The People of the United States of America, your constituents, are putting you on notice.  Consider this a written warning, which could lead to termination, if you don't improve.  We, The People, are tired of your bickering, of your muck-throwing, of your party-line stances, of your intolerance for opposing viewpoints, of your assumptions that you are smarter and "know better" than your constituents.

We, The People are disgusted  with your unwillingness to remember that you are obligated to represent the views, needs, and rights of *all* of the constituents living within your district, whether they voted for you or not.

Start with some simple logic to determine where the balance of your constituents' desires truly lies. Hint: the narrower your margin of victory,  the farther away from your platform the balance point of their views is likely to lie.   Since we effectively have only 2 candidates to choose from in a final election,  Our views are almost certainly not balanced on you.    Most of you were voted in by a by a fairly slim majority. and of those, it would be reasonable to guess that about half were more liberal than your positions, and about half are more conservative.   the scale is balanced on you.  But... then , on the side of the scale closer to your major opponent, add the constituents who voted for him.  Those all fit on the same side of  the scale, and the balance is suddenly massive tipped -- find the balance of your constituency's  actual views, and *that* is the position you should actually be representing.   As you can see, this is probably far more to the center than your personal platform, or certainly your party's platform.   We, The People, your bosses, expect you to represent the balance of *our* views.  And as such, we expect you to work with your fellow elected officials; regardless of part affiliation;  in order to achieve that balance needed to implement repairs, changes, and progress;  and to truly represents Us, the American People.

Please stop a moment, and listen - truly LISTEN - to what "We, The People," your bosses, believe in for the future of this country. Listen to what we actually want and need.  The party is not your boss - The People are. And there are two major areas you will need to work on, if you wish to continue in our employ:

First, we need to address your inappropriate campaign tactics. This campaign season, you have all focused on  painting the other guy as The Worst Thing That Could Happen or The Embodiment Of Evil. That tactic must be stopped, it is divisive, unproductive, terrible for the morale of our country in these fragile times, terrible for the image we try to present to the rest of the world, and, above all, not nearly as true as you'd like us to think.  These tactics must be stopped.
We, The People are tired of voting for the lesser of two evils. Instead of telling us why we need to vote against the other guy, tell us why would should vote *for* you.  Instead of telling me how you are going to mitigate the damage you are blaming on the other guy (which, in reality, was created over time by a combination of the works of both parties), please campaign on how you are actually going to make our country better, how you are going to take us forward, and fix our problems for the long term.  Stop talking about repealing what the other side passed, and start talking about passing new and better solutions.

Second, let's think back to Kindergarten, where you actually got a grade on "Plays Well With Others".If you continue to use the tactics of the last few years, with its keynotes of division, derision, subversion, half-truths, lies of omission, lack of respect for your fellow leaders and constituents, misleading propaganda, other con-man and warlike tactics, and, most importantly, your refusal to cooperate across party lines.  If you continue to put your party line ahead of your constituency's needs and desires, then we will have no choice but to fire you. And by "you" I mean you the politician, you the party member, and you the party.  Our government cannot be productive in putting this country to rights until its politicians and leaders stop acting like 5-year-olds, stop trying to play your constituents against each other for position, and start working together to come up with practical solutions to this great nation's problems:  solutions that can actually be implemented, instead of languishing forever in procedural limbo.

I still have not decided who I will vote for this election, but the one thing I am certain of is that, in order to get our economy moving, to get our debt out of control, and to maintain our position as citizens of the greatest country in the world,  we need to elect cream-of-the-crop representatives of "We, The People."

Fat-cat party-politicians who are interested only in the next election, and only in pushing the agenda of "They,The Party" are no longer welcome here.

Sincerely,
Tishabug H.
Your Boss, Constituent, Citizen, Voter

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Feel free to comment, but as a favor to my sanity, I would ask that you keep any comments polite, constructive, considerate, and fact-checked.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Of Elephants and Donkeys

I wish I could just go hide my head under a pillow until American government is fixed. But without participation, things will never improve... So it's back to figuring out my vote; to writing to my congressmen about the disservice their partisan trenches are doing to us, their constituents; to researching the reality behind all the crazy scary polarizing rhetoric... And I encourage each and every one of you, no matter your political opinions, to do the same.

No progress can be made in fixing our nation's problems until our government can look at the whole picture of practical solutions, instead of sticking to high-minded ideals, and can work together to find a middle ground we can all believe in. If it turns out to be a solution we all grumble about, because it's too liberal for the conservatives among us, and too conservative for the liberals, then maybe they've finally found the perfect balance...

Just a thought.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Of Mice and Men and Cashmere



Our marriage started with bagpipes, a dancing Cinderella, a drunk mice conga line, and the blessings of a hotel full of conventioning Shriners.  That should have been my first clue that we were in for quite an adventure.

Backpedalling a little:   I was just past my 25th birthday, sometime in October, when I began to become infatuated with a really hot 6'1 redhead in the next department over.  I didn't need him: by then I was making my own way in the world with a reasonable amount of success, an ok salary, and a halfway decent single-girl social life. But when he noticed me, my smiles lasted an extra second; every step had a little more bounce; and every morning I had one small extra reason to bounce out of bed.
When he asked me to marry him several months later,  we were still in the throes of blind adoration. It was an easy enough question to answer.  The remaining early passion carried us unblinkingly through our September wedding day, our first apartment, and buying our first house.

But things change.  The hot skinny redhead  was apparently a brunette all along. His waistline  expanded as his hairline receded. 
To be fair, I hardly remained the size 8 perky, made-up, hair-curled fair-skinned bride of our wedding photos, either. 
We began to learn that the very qualities that attracted us to each other have frustrating flip-sides. We learned that bodily functions happen, that we are both reasonably hopeless in any forms of physical labor or craftsmanship, that neither of us much like to mow the lawn, and that we have differing concepts of "clean".

 Our first full-on fight, about 6 months post-wedding, involved doing the laundry:   He brought up a load of clean clothes he'd washed while I was at work on yet another weekend, and set it on the bed. I found it there a few hours later, all mounded and piled in the basket, getting wrinklier by the minute.   And right on top were two of my favorite sweaters… or what was left of them after a run through the dryer on "hot". With unzipped blue jeans.   
   It started with our then-normal  overly polite dance of words, until the stony silence he tended to adopt when upset finally pushed me over the edge. The anger I'd been building up over a million little things finally burst out… the flames building higher as his continued silence only fueled them.  It took a lot of screaming, but his bubble of silence finally burst too. And only then did we both finally  open up about what was really upsetting us, calm down enough to see things truly from the other's point of view, begin to repair to disconnects, and go to bed forgiving, and forgiven.


That was the day our relationship changed. That was the day the oath we'd sworn in front of our minister, friends, family, and a hotel full of Shriners finally turned into a partnership of equals, committed to facing life together, and creating a whole that was greater than the sum of its parts. That was the day our mutual infatuation turned into a marriage.  All because of a blue cashmere sweater. (in fact, the very same one I'd worn the evening he proposed)

Tomorrow, we celebrate 12 years to the day since we traded rings in the Marriott's Grand Ballroom. 12 years of arguments, vacations, illnesses, dental problems, parties,  holidays, family functions. 12 years of moves across town, across state lines, of job changes, dog-walkings, dishwashing, shopping. 

12 years of the ups and downs, the beautiful sights and knockdown fights, the joys and pain of everyday life with a guy who has far more faith in me than I do, who never sweats the little things, who find laughter and joy and adventure in the most random places, who has no sense of ownership or privacy or shame… who knows exactly when to stop asking me questions and start hugging or taking over decisions… and who puts up with all of my million and one faults?  That is certainly beyond price. 

And, yes, 12 years of ruined sweaters and blouses and swimsuits…  Because "someone" still occasionally forgets to read labels. (And forgets that he's supposed to be banned from the laundry room for life.)

But that's ok. 
I can get a new cashmere sweater down the street at Kohl's. 
Starting a new marriage would be trickier -- Where I would ever find another conga-line of drunk bagpiping shriner-mice on motor-trikes?


~ The Sappy Part:  Clayton, you've been the central character in my life's story for fully one-third of it's lived-but-not-yet-written pages. I still have no idea why you put up with me, but am eternally grateful and delighted that you have. Perhaps you really are not the "Best. Husband. Ever..." but you are certainly the best husband for me.  A ma vie de coer entier.   I love you. ~

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Oceans, Mountains, and a new Snorkel



Hi. My name is Tishabug, and I'm a scaredy-cat.  err.. scaredy-bug?

When anyone suggests, in even the slightest of passings, that I should try something new or go even a step outside my comfort zone, my initial, internal reaction goes something like this:

"No."

Then, thank goodness, my sanity kicks in a little, and counters with a more logical reaction,  something like this:

"Heck to the bazillion-plus nos!"

Unfortunately, my Mommabug brought me up better than that. So my *third* internal reaction takes me into pep talk mode, trying to determine what is truly the worst thing that is likely happen (usually nothing too awful) and whether I'll regret not trying it later. (Probably.)  
And then, there's still a reasonably decent chance I'll talk myself out of it, especially if there's no one to do it with--at least, noone who I can trust not to laugh (too hard).

Nonetheless, I do find that I have to occasionally, grudgingly give in to adventures that will expand my horizons.  Because, as it turns out, this is necessary to maintain my masquerade as a Normal Person. Also, sometimes, I give in just to make the B.H.E. shut up about it.

And since I have to give in, I try to put all the "try" I can muster behind it, and go in as whole-hog body and soul (but not so much pocketbook - I'm pretty cheap) as I can.

The latest adventure I've let myself be talked into is SCUBA certification.  
Despite enjoying a good pool swim, and having a half-bajillion (give or take 3) Caribbean snorkeling trips under my belt, being out in any natural body of water alarms me.  

But many friends have suggested SCUBA, and I've often thought it would be nice to get even closer to the magical worlds we see from the surface…  And then…  B.H.E. found a Groupon.  (Truly, I ask you, who can resist a good Groupon?)  So SCUBA lessons it is.

It's been an intense week, with about 10-12 class hours and 6 pool hours crammed into 3 weeknights (after a full day at the office),  and 5 open water dives scheduled for 2 sessions this weekend… but the feeling of accomplishment is pretty awesome.  I even bought my own mask and "dry" snorkel--a million times better than the cheapos we usually get offered on snorkel tours. And they match! Who knew a new snorkel could be this exciting?

Today was the first set of open water dives:  About 3-4 hours in a very murky lake, doing a series of skills at various depths.   Even after modest success in the pool, I was nervous.  But we went, I did it, the instructor (who knew I was pretty nervous) even said I did a good job, and was quite proud of me.
I thought I'd gone a little off on a couple of the skills… but after talking to the others in the class, it sounds like I didn't come off any worse than they did.   
   In fact, the only notable snafu - the only point where I slowed the rest of the class,  came after the dives were done.  In the climb (in full gear) up from the shore to the parking lot (have I mentioned Texas is in a multi-year drought, so the water level is insanely low?),  I fell.  And then I faltered.  
And finally my wobbly post-SCUBA legs and top-heavy gravitational configuration just didn't want to carry all that weight up the dusty Slope.  
More like sandy Hillside.  
A Really Steep Rocky, Pebbly hillside.
As in, "When the heck did Texas grow a Mountain?!?!?" 

Nonetheless, I passed today's dives.
So as long as I pass the final dive tests tomorrow, I'll be an ANDI certified diver, allowed to to dive 100 feet into the wonders of our planet's inner space.  I will have proved I can do this horrifically scary thing, and then, thank goodness, I'll never have to do this scary thing again.  

But I probably will.  I really should go see what those Caribbean conchs look like up-close in their natural habitat. And it turns out, it's pretty peaceful down there, where humans can't talk.  Besides, we found a really good deal on a trip to St Lucia, that includes all the diving we can take.

 I just hope mountain-climbing won't be on the final.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Pertaining to Long Words




My name is Tishabug, and I'm a wordaholic. 

I love words nearly as much as I love books. 
I love how words look, how they feel in my mouth, the power they hold to reveal or conceal, how, short or long, a single word can become a whole story in itself.   

  Over the years, I've picked up new and interesting words from signs, by listening, through reading (rather a lot), from daily word emails, and as co-captain of the Terre Haute North Vigo High School state championship SpellBowl team. (Why, yes, it is quite appropriate to bow.)  
I've even been known to make up a word or two in my time.

 I don't often, if ever, use most of the interesting words I've collected. As much as they delight me, I have also learned the  value of speaking plainly and clearly -- to eschew obfuscation of my oral intent via sesquipedalian declamations.  
A fancy words just isn't very useful if the person you're talking to isn't crystal clear on it's meaning and connotation.

So I continue to collect words in silence.  Some are big, some are simple, some delight me in their appropriateness, their puniness, or that just look, when written out, very much like or opposite from their meaning.  Sometime, I even look at word I've known for decades,  and find that truly looking at it on the written page, it seems all of a sudden alien.

One of my favorite words came my way from the book Crazy English, by  Richard Lederer:   

Hippopotomonstrosesquipedalian

This is certainly one of the most delightful words I've ever met.


First, it's impossible not to smile at the utter silliness of its pieces and parts. I can just see hippopotamuses (or is it hippopotami?) and monsters, quipping and skipping joyfully around a sundial. 

Second, speak it.  Say it out loud.  Feel it roll around your mouth like a month-old puppy let out on the fresh grass after a long afternoon in his crate.  It makes the mouth unabashedly happy.

Now, consider the appropriateness of its definition. It's an adjective meaning "pertaining to extremely long words." How perfect is a word that defines its very self!

Finally, consider all of these as you look at the word on the typed screen.  Notice how it starts all big and wide and round, and roly-poly, just as it sounds, proudly showing off its excessive width.  Then as it nears the end, it squishes tighter together, trying to make room for every last letter, holding its breath to fit those last letters in before it runs out of space.

Yes indeed, it's a Hippopotomonstrosesquipedalian delight.
 Just thinking on this word is, in spite of myself, bringing a little up-curved grin to the side of my mouth.


But, for all that, I'm glad I never faced this word in SpellBowl competition. The sudden appearance of 150 imaginary quipping monsters and hippopotami (or is it -muses?) would surely have instigated an official challenge from our team nemesis, those unimaginative arch-rivals from Bloomington South.