Friday, September 03, 2004
Floof
vain
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English, from Middle French, from Latin vanus empty, vain -- more at WANE
1 : having no real value : IDLE, WORTHLESS
2 : marked by futility or ineffectualness
3 archaic : FOOLISH, SILLY
4 : having or showing undue or excessive pride in one's appearance or achievements : CONCEITED
5 : insecurity. misconstrued
I saw someone today that I haven't seen in a long time, and it was the first time I had ever seen her with clothes on.
OK, I can tell right now I need to explain that.
Flashback to a year and a half ago, about. I was sitting in the mental ward of a hospital while they figured out the right cocktail of meds that would make it safe to let me go.
The rooms were tiny, and the nurses encouraged, strongly, that each patient get out and mingle with the other patients in the large common area. So we would all get up and shower and get dressed and go out there and dutifully mingle. Which turned out to be one of the most therapeutic parts, in my opinion.
Anyway, a couple of days after I arrived, about midnight (most of us arrived about that time for some reason) a lady was put in a room across the common area from mine. I could see her door from my room. Most of us had to sleep with our doors open, but she insisted on shutting hers.
The nurses visited her all night every ten minutes or so. Just like they had done to me on my first night.
The next day, the staff drug us all out of bed for breakfast. We all sat there bleary eyed, except for the older patients who for some reason have the ability to awaken at 6am and be sharp. I hope I never get that old, it's gotta hurt. Anyway, we're sitting there, and the door to the lady's room opens.
And out walks, well, let me describe it. She was about fiftyish and a bit overweight. Hair was perfect, makeup perfect, chin high. She was dressed in the poofiest bathrobe I had ever seen. It looked like someone had mated several feather boas with a satin quilt, and swept along behind her like a bridal gown. Her face peeked out from all the fluff, and she stared straight ahead as she walked. Pretty much all you could see was that robe, and her matching fuzzy slippers.
Of course, it was all pink. Not hot pink, but that shade of pink they use to color lady's bath powders.
Speaking of which, she fairly reeked of the stuff. Incredibly, she did not leave a smoke trail as she passed and headed for the breakfast cart.
I should mention here that none of the rest of us were in pajamas. And a lot of us were really, really sick too. One young girl sitting next to me could only bear to sit with us and eat breakfast without bursting into tears if she held her teddy bear tightly to her breast, and she was sixteen or seventeen.
The lady got her tray and promptly vanished with it into her room, closing the door behind her.
We all watched. None of us had been allowed to eat in our rooms. The girl next to me was pretty much going through torture because she couldn't. "Who does she think she is?" one lady asked.
Day after day, meal after meal, the scene repeated. Always in the bathrobe, even at lunch, and never mingling with anyone. Everyone thought she was very, very vain and conceited.
So, I'm at a doctor's appointment today, and look who comes in. She's traded her pale pink bathrobe for a pale cream colored blouse and tasteful skirt, and pale cream colored hose, and pale cream colored shoes. And she's kinda pale and cream colored, so the whole thing worked.
I glance over at her a few times, recognizing her. But this time, I noticed something. I don't think it was vanity we were seeing.
No, I think what we were seeing was a massive case of insecurity.
She had taken great pains to make sure everything in her life was just perfect. I imagine that being in a mental hospital was mortifying to her. I understand now.
And as she sat there, back straight, chin up, I pitied her.
It is natural after you find you have a chronic and lifetime illness to feel wounded somehow, and it seems worse when it is a mental illness. Eventually you come to accept it, and it is that resignation that enables us to go on with our lives and rehabilitate ourselves to living with it. If you remain embarrassed and afraid of it, it will chase you all the days of your life like a ravenous tiger.
I also saw the teddy bear girl a month or so ago. She was on the phone in the hospital lobby, in tears. I had seen her in tears a lot in the hospital. I waited, and as she walked by I said "I remember you."
She looked at me and suddenly smiled, and what a pretty smile, even stained by tears. We both knew she couldn't help that. Turns out that she has had a very hard year. After her release, she ended up involved with drugs, and probably worse, and had been placed back in the hospital. She was in a sort of halfway house plan that allowed her to sleep at home, with supervision, and spend her days at the hospital.
She seemed comfortable with that. She did not want to be like she was. My heart bled for her too.
And somewhere, her teddy bear's waiting for her.
The ultimate security is your understanding of reality.
H. Stanley Judd
Permalink: 9/03/2004 02:09:00 AM |
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Thursday, September 02, 2004
Looking Through the Left Eye
prej-u-dice
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old French, from Latin praejudicium previous judgment, damage, from prae- + judicium judgment -- more at JUDICIAL
1 : injury or damage resulting from some judgment or action of another in disregard of one's rights; especially : detriment to one's legal rights or claims
2 a (1) : preconceived judgment or opinion (2) : an adverse opinion or leaning formed without just grounds or before sufficient knowledge b : an instance of such judgment or opinion c : an irrational attitude of hostility directed against an individual, a group, a race, or their supposed characteristics
3 : what the liberals in the Democratic party do, incredibly
I hardly ever address political topics here, but seeing as how it's election season here in the United States, it's time. Aristotle said that man is a political animal by nature, so I'm gonna go "au natural" for a bit.
And no, there's no webcam involved.
First, lets look at the "one million jobs lost" phrase that's been trumpeted all over the airwaves. Is it really a million jobs lost?
The figure is derived from looking at the unemployment rate in 2000, which was 4.0%, and comparing it to the unemployment rate now, which is 5.5%. In bare numbers, that equates to between a million and a million and a quarter jobs, right?
No. Because that's not the whole story.
When the figures are looked at closer, another story altogether comes to light. The total nonfarm labor force in 2000 was about 142,000,000. But in 2004, it is 148,000,000! That's not a million jobs "lost."
Sure, there are some out of work. Our country is still recovering from its recession that resulted from the unbridled spending of the Clinton years. We've picked up the pieces and we're moving forward. And we'll get there.
Remember, the recession was due to the Democrats, the recovery is happening under the Republicans. That's important.
How about the claim that the Democratic party stands for the advancement of people with diverse heritages (normally meaning African Americans)? Let's have a look.
First of all, none of John Kerry's top campaign positions are filled with African Americans. The most senior member of his staff that is African American is a deputy campaign manager.
Teresa Heinz Kerry has referred to herself as African American, believe it or not. She makes this claim because she was raised in Mozambique, as a white woman surrounded by servants. To me, this shows that she completely misses the point, and in a very real way it's an insult.
But these aside, there's a far greater wrong being perpetrated all across our nation. It happens every time young African Americans are encouraged to embrace their "ghetto" culture, which includes a moral code and set of behaviors that seem designed to make sure they can't possibly succeed in life. This has one and only one result; it makes them dependant on government funds to survive.
What better way to insure votes.
Wouldn't it be better to help these people, make certain they have training, make certain they have good role models and the ability to climb out of the ghetto, than to idolize it? Maybe I'm not seeing something here, but I know one thing for certain...
If you want to play basketball you better not use a football rulebook. You'll lose every game.
More later.
Practical politics consists in ignoring facts.
Henry Adams, US author, autobiographer, & historian (1838 - 1918)
Permalink: 9/02/2004 01:38:00 PM |
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Monday, August 30, 2004
A SpongeBob Wedding??!?
Stumbled across this on EBay. I can't imagine wanting to have a SpongeBob wedding. I can't imagine even knowing someone who would want a SpongeBob wedding. 
Permalink: 8/30/2004 04:18:00 PM |
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Sunday, August 29, 2004
Flame Out
smol-der
Function: intransitive verb
Etymology: Middle English smolderen to smother, from smolder smoke, smudge; akin to Middle Dutch smOlen to smolder
1 a : to burn sluggishly, without flame, and often with much smoke b : to be consumed by smoldering -- often used with out
2 : to exist in a state of suppressed activity
3 : what the Summer Olympic flame will be doing for the next four years.
To be honest, I was just dreading that something horrible would happen. And I was fully aware that there were people out there, lots of them, who intended something horrible to happen.
A lot of these people could have driven there.
But now here I sit, the Olympic cauldron has just been extinguished, and it all turned out all right. Well, except for that little burp in the Marathon, but that was just one idiot acting on his own.
Shame he had to wear Christian slogans on his costume though. Gives the rest of us a bad name.
So, here I am. The television is off and silent behind me, the first time in two weeks. Yet again, I feel I "know" people I have never met, and I rooted for them just like they were family.
My country won just over 100 medals, about a third of them were gold. China, on the other hand, only won about two thirds as many but over half of their metal is gold. The Dominican Republic, United Arab Emerates, Cameroon and Ireland only one one medal each, and that was gold.
I'll bet that Ireland is more proud of that one gold than we are of 30.
There were many struggles and stories of determination in these Olympics, and NBC did its best to keep us entertained with them. But there were some that flew under the radar.
For example, the tragic story of Eleni Iannou, a member of the Greek Judo team, and her live in boyfriend Giorgios Chrisostomides. By the end of the Olympics, she would be dead and he would be in critical condition in a warped Romeo and Juliet story.
It seems that only days before the start of the competition, the two of them argued over whether she could go and stay in the Olympic Village. She wanted to go. He demanded that she stay at the apartment with him. She refused, then he broke off their relationship.
She was so distraught that she turned and lept from their apartment window, four stories up, and landed on the concrete below.
She was critically injured, and in a coma. The doctors gave little hope.
Two days later, her boyfriend Giorgio lept from that same forth floor window in a second suicide attempt, out of remorse.
She eventually passed away from her injuries. It's too early to say about him.
It is so easy to forget, when we are watching superhuman feats performed a continent away then choreographed by the cameras of a multi-billion dollar media giant, these are just people. Sure, they are extremely talented people, every last one, but when it boils down to it they are just human.
They laugh, they cry, they love, they die, they feel joy, hate, remorse and hope just like the rest of us do. Maybe that's why these strangers end up feeling to us as friends.
All of us cringed when Gail Deevers fell on the hurdles.
All of us gasped when Paul Hamm fell onto the judging stand.
And all of us were outraged when the judges then scored a Russian athlete far too low and the crowd was outraged right along with us, stopping the entire event cold until things were put, at least partially, to rights.
Some things transcend language.
When Paula Radcliffe collapsed on the side of the road during the marathon, overcome by the grueling heat, humidity and hills, we felt the anguish in her face. We felt the frustration from one of the women's relay runners when during the handoff, her teammate stepped on her shoe and cost her critical time, losing the race right then, and we felt the hopelessness as she still put her shoe back on and continued. We felt the disbelief and loss when Gail Dever's fall on the hurdles pushed another hurdler out of competition, ending her Olympic dream through no fault of her own.
We felt that we were witnessing the retirement of an old friend when Rulon Gardner slowly removed his shoes and left them in the wrestling ring, a symbol that he was retiring.
On the other hand, how many moments of joy and accomplishment did we witness? Too many to count, too intense to forget. Greece's Fani Chalkia winning the 400 meter hurdles on home turf after the doping scandal that had sidelined two of her teammates. Israel’s Gal Fridman in the Mistral (sailing) winning his country's first gold medal ever. And who could forget the US Women's soccer team?
To all the athletes, thank you. We'll keep the Olympic flame smoldering until next time...
Sports serve society by providing vivid examples of excellence.
George F. Will
US editor, commentator, & columnist (1941 - )
Permalink: 8/29/2004 11:22:00 PM |
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Border
thresh-old
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English thresshold, from Old English threscwald; akin to Old Norse threskjoldr threshold, Old English threscan to thresh
1 : the plank, stone, or piece of timber that lies under a door : SILL
2 a : GATE, DOOR b (1) : END, BOUNDARY; specifically : the end of a runway (2) : the place or point of entering or beginning : OUTSET [on the threshold of a new age]
3 a : the point at which a physiological or psychological effect begins to be produced b : a level, point, or value above which something is true or will take place and below which it is not or will not
4 : What is just ahead of me, I think
I think I am almost through with it.
A few months ago, I was traveling from Virginia going south into North Carolina. The day was overcast, and everything was cloaked in gray shadow, matching the gray asphalt of the highway. But, through a quirk of fate, at the precise same moment that I crossed the state line into North Carolina, I came out from under the frontal system.
Instantly, sunlight bathed me and everything around me. I squinted as the colors all around me blazed with the light. Even the road seemed to glow. In my rear view mirror, I could see Virginia, still in its gray shade.
There never were any more clouds that trip.
The last three years of my life have been, for the most part, a living hell. A torment, a misery, a curse. Some of it I have outlined here. Some of it I haven't. Some of it my family saw, as I broke under the strain and fell to shattered pieces in the hospital, but there were other times when I would pull over in my car, so overwhelmed that I would have to allow the grief and despair to pass through me before I could go home.
When I was in the hospital, I saw a drawing in the newspaper of a person curled up in a fetal position surrounded by the bars of a restricting cage, trapped and beyond hope. That was my mental image of my life for much of the past three years or so.
Amazing what a brain chemical imbalance can do to you, not to mention working in a hostile and prejudicial work environment. It'll rip you to shreds, then rip those shreds to shreds.
But through it all, I've fought as hard as I could. Even when I gave out, I still never lost my trust in God. Myself maybe, but not Him.
And I feel that finally, finally, I'm going to cross that border into the next state and the sunshine is going to beam down on me. Just as with Job, all these wrongs are going to be righted. God's faithful that way.
I will never, ever have to deal with what I have dealt with. Ever. That alone is worth so much. I can't even find words to express my relief and joy at this.
The most comfortable shoe in the world is the one that has just had a pebble removed from inside of it. Just the contrast makes it so.
I think my pebble is gone now. We'll see. I'll keep ya posted.
Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.
Sir Winston Churchill
British politician (1874 - 1965)
Permalink: 8/29/2004 01:03:00 AM |
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Razorblade in that Apple?
Blogger has placed a new "navbar" up at the top of the page. On the right side, it has a "Next Blog" button.
Do NOT click it!!!
Chances are very slim that you will find yourself on a blog that won't be objectionable to you. There are also reports of people clicking on it and landing on a malicious page that attempted to download a virus to their computer.
Thanks to Marguerite for the tip on this! If you simply MUST click on something, try her blog. You'll feel right at home, like a member of the family, when you read her warm writing style and insightful comments and anecdotes.
Just don't click the "next blog" button!
Permalink: 8/29/2004 12:16:00 AM |
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