Is It Over Yet?

I mean the holidays. Which are no holidays for me when it is culturally jammed down my throat that you must be happy. You must be with loved ones. You must buy, buy and buy some more.

My peeve of the year? People who got royally pissed when someone said "Happy Holidays." Because Hanukkah or Ramadan or Winter Solstice don't count; this is a Christian time of year and we demand that you say it!"

Sez who? There is not a person living who knows for sure when the Christ Jesus was born.

Sigh, why bother.

I have no desire for fights of faith. It seemed like every dang day in 2012 was a fight of faith. One faith trying to have dominion over women's bodies. One faith trying to maintain guns over the safety of citizens with people still dying from legal and illegal use of weapons.

I did spy Valentine's stuff at two different stores. It is December 30th. What madness is this? We don't have time for President's Day anymore? No Martin Luther King acknowledgement?

Damn.



This is the opening scene of the 2001 version of Waiting for Godot.  I been intrigued by the various actors who perform this play and change the energy of the piece. Some actors go for the comedy while others hug the tragic elements. The best is when the company straddles the fence.

If you want to go on a head trip watch the full version of the play.

I am not straddling the fence. I wish it was always summer. That's right. I'd wipe December off the map with no hard feelings.

Which is why I am not in charge.Who am I to say when people should break out and celebrate whatever they want?

I strive for tolerance when it gets on my last dang nerve. I hold on most of the time and then I get to repeat the lesson again the next year.

No, I will not be celebrating on New Year Eve either. I will be shaking off the last remnants of "I have failed, I've wasted another year, I've got to do better..."

Sad. No, more like SAD as in Seasonal Affected Disorder. Not the clinical kind but the kind that makes me long passionately for summer.

A summer day that allows me to breathe the smell of orange blossoms and Jacaranda trees. Where there is no holiday and I love the day I am standing in because I am a part of the universal tie that binds. A day of nothing-ness that is glorious because it is and I am in it.

Anything else that happens is gravy.

So if you made it this far in the cycle I encourage you to hold on a bit more until we get to summer time again.

We need to survive the dark times in order to appreciate the light.

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This Is My 3rd Official End of the World

I have been busting jokes about each and every End of the World (EOTW) event that I have been exposed to; mostly involuntarily. I remember the one by that radio pastor that had his sheeple sell off their worldly goods to help him give us sinners one more chance.

That was kind of cool. Not the faithful selling off their stuff and giving the money to the pastor. It was their choice but I feel bad for them.

If I remember correctly, I was at a poetry reading. I remember CalOkie getting a call from his son Mark.

The conversation went something like:

"Hello?"
"Yes, I'm still here. How about you?"
"Yeah, (laughter) ...ok, love you too. Bye."

That was a nice way to end a day. This is not to say that I take all End of the World days lightly.

On September 11, 2001 I was listening to a talk from Jack Kornfield. It was on Roy of Hollywood's show on KPFK. It was such a good relaxing talk I didn't want to hear anything else so I turned off the radio.

Around 8 a.m. I log onto the Internet and saw the Google search page with a line about a terrorist plane crash. I didn't believe it at first but I came around to it as I turned on the TV.

At that moment I thought I was in the end times. I didn't trust Bush or Chaney to do the right thing. I thought for sure bombs would be dropped and then it would be a free for all Doomsday.

I was scared. I was so scared that I didn't know it. I went to the supermarket and there was nobody there but me and one cashier. Who was pale with fright. We both were on automatic.

I've never seen a supermarket totally empty during prime shopping time. It took a long time for that fear to go away.

I've had earthquakes. Rainstorms that dang near washed cars down the street. There have been fires in the mountains. I've seen humans acting badly.

So...



Yeah. I want to celebrate the life I have with what I got left. If Spirit wants me he/she knows where to find me. I don't think I'm wanted anytime soon cuz Spirit knows I've got a lifetime of questions and clarifications I need to clear up to set my mind at ease.

Probably why I was plunked down here in the first place. Spirit needed a break from the chatter.

I want to go to an EOTW party but my co-worker reminded me that I am not as young as I seem to think I am. I can't get into a club.

"One look at that gray hair and they will see their granny, not a customer."

Dang it. She is right.  It is not that I want to go to a swinging club. I don't. Never did. But if I wanted to then my hair shouldn't keep me on the other side of the door.

It is my own fault. I keep forgetting to dye it. I'm sucking up Coconut Oil to help with the brain fuzz. I think it is working. I remember to take the spoonful but that might be cuz I like the taste of Coconuts.

There is the reality that I can't fit into micro Daisy Dukes anyway. I'd cut my hips on those sharp angles. And you can't wear panties with those skimpy skimps.

I'd have a chance at the wet t-shirt spray-off but I'm thinking I'm not supposed to have a dangling gut seeping out from under the t-shirt.

There is a spiritual dance party happening that would be more my speed but it is Santa Monica. Too far away for me.

Maybe I should forget about the community dancing and singing kind of thing.  Dancing before dying seems like a good idea but I'll hold off until I loose some weight or invest in Spanx.

Maybe next time.

It is a good thing that the so-called End of the Word is going to occur around 3:30 ish a.m. Pacific Time.

The electric blanket will be on #7. I'll wake up just long enough to check the clock and for bursts of light. Then I'm going back to sleep.

I still gotta go to work the next day.

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Long Journey From Dreamland

I've been away from my blog. I caught a wicked flu and that sucker wouldn't let me go. The concept of being sick is not easy for me. For some reason I want to do things and be productive.  This is incompatible with being sick.

This last flu had me in bed for two solid days. I had no choice but to rest and sleep. I was cooking chicken dinners for people, riding in fighter planes and my usual intergalactic adventures.

It was surreal.

I'd have these active dreams then I would wake up sneezing up a storm, coughing and what not only to fall back asleep to another adventure.

Two full days of it and it was exhausting in both realms. This is when you need a good movie to try to put the breaks the dreams but I kept falling into dreamland. There was this 1930ish movie about the future where the two lead actors were pining over wanting old fashion girls.

By the time my subconscious had wrapped itself around the movie I had taken over the planet and declared free love for all.

I'm better now. Except that once again this morning I woke up from a dream where I was serving broiled chicken on demand to friends and strangers.

I have no idea what to make of it.

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Gabrielle Bouliane Poem To Help Kick Your Butt

Almost finished with VloMo 2012. Trying to find a way to re-vitalize my other blog and make it more useful and enjoyable. I still struggle with it, trying to find the right voice.

I know I need to step up and find a new path. I know good things are waiting for me once I fight the fear and the often debilitating voices of doubt.




From up on high this is a recording of Gabrielle Bouliane, reading a poem from 2009. Her message is constant and clear.

The grim reaper snagged Gabrielle in 2010.

Get a move on and do what you gotta do.

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The Pain of Creating and Cleaning on Thanksgiving

Being a cubical bunny does not leave a lot of time for creativity. Nor does it leave a lot of time for advanced household maintenance. One of the reasons I like Thanksgiving is that I get serious me time.

I made a list. 20+ items that I want to complete by Sunday. I was digging for my Earthquake kit. Yes, I have one. You should too. Even if you don't currently find yourself in earthquake territory.

Like I said,  I was digging for my Earthquake kit and I found my electric screwdriver. I've been passively looking for that thing for months.

Then I notice the curtain that should be replaced. And the curtain by the window waiting for me to replace the icky one for the nicer one.

I stand on what I thought was a solid cabinet. It wasn't. I crash through to the bottom of the cabinet. My heart suspends. My brain goes to evaluation mode.

Leg broken? No.
Foot broken? No.
Toe broken? No.
Toe hurts like hell? Oh yes.

I truly take a moment to be grateful I haven't broken any body part on Thanksgiving. Because to have the paramedic ambulance come to your door is at least $995 to start.

Not that I could have gotten to the front door.

I am now sitting in a chair nursing and icing an angry toe. I am grateful.

But it hurts.

I don't do pain well. I avoid it as much as possible. Will now commence to dig for ibuprofen.

I will resume the search for the Earthquake kit. I might find the missing iPod Nano that I lost a year ago. See, the way this works is that I look for one thing and find five others items.

It is way better than Black Friday shopping because I already know that I want it.

I have to say I'm not as gung ho as I was about this cleaning thing. My back-up plan was to stay in bed watching DVDs.

Hmm. Nope, I'll brace up and finish what I started.

I have too. The bed is covered with the other stuff that I moved to find the screwdriver.

It is gonna be a long day.

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When This Frugalista Walks Away From A Sale

Yesterday I found out that I had a store credit at an office store. I guess buying toner and ink pens finally paid off for me. Walking around I realized that the store had removed the camera section. I couldn't buy a still camera and I really don't need another camcorder.

So I'm thinking. I could get a full size or 7 inch tablet to test tablet video options and applications. 

Now, being a loyal frugalista I wasn't going to pay for the high tone stuff. Not in the budget. But there were two tablets on sale that I could have worked with.

The Lenovo A1 has a front and rear facing camera. Has an SD card slot. Selling for $159 and with my store credit I could walk out paying $80. What stopped me was that it is running Gingerbread 2.3.1, it has a single core and the demo in the store was not getting juiced from the USB. I could chalk that up to demo damage or a future problem.

The other contender was the Google Nexus 7. Has only a front facing 1.2 megapixel camera. Runs on Android Jellybean 4.1. What stopped me was that I couldn't get it out of password mode. No expandability, no SD slot and not sure if it is anything more than a consumption device.

I looked around at the others. I have to say that the new Amazon HD tablet did a better job of teaching me how to use it. It was like it wanted me as a customer and as a relationship. Might give it more consideration.

The problem is, like Alton Brown, I don't want a uni-taskter device. I want to do things. Create stuff.

I manage to get out the store. I am glad I did. I looked at reviews for both devices. That Lenovo A1 has got issues. At $80 I could grit my teeth and say fine. Except that it isn't.

I also found out that the new Nexus will be 16GB for $199 so I should not buy the 8GB version.

It is okay not to spend. And feel good about it. It takes practice but waiting is good.

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It Is Time

I was inspired or commanded to try to make this video. I only had a few minutes. The dream version was much better with photos flying in and sound quotes from all over the place.



This is nothing like that. It is simple. Imperfect but close enough.

Open Letter to the Great Goddess of Cinema,

The next time you want to inspire me could you at least give me three days notice? I could have tighten this up a bit and made it the way you showed me in the dream.

I appreciated the heads up about the song but for Election Day I would have liked to made a kapow kind of video.

Yes, I know. Simple is underrated. Yes, I understand I am not capable of kapow at this time. Yes, I remember the grade I got in the 16mm film class.

Anyway, thanks for the idea. I appreciate you thinking of me after all of these years.

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The Story Behind the Car In the Mall

I hate it when I see it. There is nothing I can do short of being the person trying to stop people from doing the wrong thing. I learned a long time ago, you cannot stop a person determined to do the wrong thing.


This is my short VloMo 2012 contribution to take a humorous way to explaining.

Basically, a company rents a shiny car from a local car dealer. Then they rent car space in your local mall. People fill out a detail contest sheet with a lot of personal information, much more than what is needed for a contest.

On the back, in teeny tiny type they will tell you that you must fill out the info completely or it will be rejected. Or if you are under 18 it will be rejected. Or if your income is too low you will be rejected.

In some states you cannot will $100,000. You might have a chance at $5,000. Or $199. Depends on where you live.

If you "qualify" then you get to the next level, a timeshare meeting. You have to attended. You will then be given the hard sell on purchasing a timeshare. If you survive then you might walk out with steak knives. Or a radio. Not sure what the mooks who survive get these days.

Oh, should you happen to win the $100,000 you do know that you have to pay taxes on it right?

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Is Videoblogging Passe for Women?

There are days when I feel like a loon. A loon is a strange looking bird that looks like parts of other birds. But it is a loon. Today I started a Vlomo 2012 video gallery located at http://vlomo2012.tumblr.com

I've been up since 4 a.m. That is part of the reason I feel like a loon. Yep. That's me. I feel out of sync but trying to connect. I think I'm failing. But I am not. I am just tired.

I'm still a loon. Now this does have something to do with my question. Being a loon I got to waddle to get in the water.

I loathe to define videoblogging. It gets folks antsy. I don't want to get into a semantic fight with anybody. So here are a few statement and you can pick out the one that appeals to you:

• A blog that contains a video post on a regular basis.
• A video series that is posted by an internet distribution company that allows other people to watch or post the video on their blog.
• A talking head video using videos instead of the keyboard to express their feelings.
• A person using video to express a person, place or thing and then uploads the video for others to see.

So before you get to the question of "is videoblogging passe for women" you first got to ask is it passe?

For some folks yes. And that is okay. These are the folks that have moved on to professional careers in video or media.

Or it could be that because of the time sink it can be (but does not have to be) there just isn't time after work, school, family, bathing and sleeping to cram one more thing in your day.




Or you have said what you needed to say and are done.(PS - Margaret ain't done, she's made two more videos since this one.)

But there is another group that is hesitant to try. I feel that I haven't done a good job of encouraging women to step it up and truly use video to be visible and express themselves.

I'm not giving up Create Video Notebook but I gotta find a better way to engage women and men to take advantage of this time before the gates are closed and we can't communicate with each other.

Why? Because we have foolish old men who do not understand biology. We have women being defined by men into functional boxes of utility; formally known as the kitchen and the bedroom.

That is never a good thing. Not even for men.

The menopause story has got to be told to the Boomer women. The older women needs to tell the young ones how they survived.

Should reality television be our touch post as how women behave?

Nay I say nay! (See, squawking like a loon.)

So maybe the term videoblogging will eventually go away but I hope that folks tell their stories visually once in a while.

It can be slides to narration to video.
It can be you talking in front of a camera with a memory of your favorite dress.
It can be you sipping a cup of coffee as you talk about last night.

You got a smartphone that records audio and video? That is all you need to get started.

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Politically Speaking, The Poor Are the Enemy

I’m noticing a lot of talk about “The Poor.” It is an impersonal non-descriptive term. The prior incarnations were applied to “The Women”,” The Negro” and “The Asian (well, in the past this would have been referred to as The Chinese)” followed by the word “Problem.”

During most elections, “The Poor” would be invoked as a badge of concern or at least a focal point of attention. This time is different. “The Poor” have become the enemy.

In December 2011, Newt Gingrich made a statement about how poor children don’t have a clue as to understanding responsibility, ethics or the habit of working. This, by implication, means that their parents don’t have those qualities either.




Think about that statement. Every single poor person in America is engage in illegal activities. Sound idiotic. Yet many people agreed with the ignorance of that statement.

When Gingrich asked the potential donors in the room had they ever babysat or performed yard work as a comparison to an imaginary poor child, who hasn’t appeared to do anything but breathe and eat Skittles, I guess you could work up a bit of indignation.

Perhaps their understanding of “The Poor” is what they see and hear in the local and national media. It is a distorted vision.

But that was the beginning of the wave of “The Poor” being transformed into the enemy.

There are memes of taxation and certain Ayn Rand plug-ins presenting “The Poor” as picking individuals and corporate pockets in order to receive healthcare, education, and food. There are people ready to tell you that, in their perception, have done nothing to deserve it.

Never mind that you can’t live a day in this country without paying some form of local, state or federal taxes. And many people who should know better ignore the fact of millions of poor people do work and have taxes pulled from their checks each pay period.

No, don’t let the facts get in the way of the emotionally self-validating “live and let die; it is not my problem or concern.”

The main kicker in “The Poor” is the enemy campaign is when a presidential candidate Mitt Romney states that he is not concerned with the 47% and the reason why he is not concerned:

“…These are people who pay no income tax. Forty-seven percent of Americans pay no income tax. So our message of low taxes doesn't connect. And he'll be out there talking about tax cuts for the rich. I mean that's what they sell every four years. And so my job is not to worry about those people—I'll never convince them that they should take personal responsibility and care for their lives. 

For the record, “The Poor” are hyper proactive about obtaining food, shelter and not walk around half naked.

Poor people take the jobs they can find. Many of those jobs are in the service industry or whatever employment is available. It bears repeating that many low wage jobs have been shipped to China, The Philippians and other countries.

We need to be really careful about defining who is worthy of concern or not. My understanding is that providing education was a non-negotiable part of the American experience. Have we decided that we now want a permanent class of illiterate citizens?

Are retired seniors unworthy of the money they invested in Social Security payments? Should disabled veterans have a time limit on re-entry support or medical care?  We do a terrible job of it now but we can do worse if we put our minds to it.

If you are not in the above groups and you do not make a lot of money what exactly makes you unworthy of being considered a full participant and recipient of the government’s resources?

There are real people behind the political rhetoric and quotes of the week. You wouldn’t know that from the political discourse of the past three years. I don’t expect that to change anytime soon after the election.

I do expect that if we as a people want to portray “The Poor” as the enemy there will be a price to pay.

From the thought, to the word, to the deed.

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Shaved Ice Cream Is a Mighty Good Thing

I wanted to walk. I got a chance at the October CicLaVia. I started in Chinatown, then past the courthouse and the new Grand Park across from City Hall.

 

At the Los Angeles Times building there were food trucks. I have learned to at least inspect them to see if it is the real deal or is somebody trying to push foo-foo food on me.

I wasn't supposed to go near those trucks in the first place. Trying to cut back on carbs and the lard of the land.

Over yonder was a truck that had something to do with shaved ice. Now I was raised a water ice girl, which is not the same thing. It is better. But I was far away from getting any rum raisin water ice anytime soon so you gotta go with the flow.

I was dehydrated. Which is why I ordered a stawberry, coconut and mango shaved ice concoction with a base of vanilla ice creme.

I ordered the small one but I got a huge ice cone of wonderment. I rested my body along side of the Times building and just slurped. It was hot, the bikes were bressing by and all was right with the world.

I walked around the corner I found a ledge I could sit on and continued to suck and slurp. I was indeed orally fixated.

There was a bike in the shape of a motorcycle. Then a  old rattly one just out of the garage. Expensive gear that must have cost a good $500 to start.

There were the sound of bikes. But it was also quiet. Peaceful.

You don't get that often in a big city. You have to work on it.

The above photo was when I was just about to break though to the ice creme level. I figured I should have something to show for my pleasure. It was small enough by that point that I could place it on the ledge to take the photo.

Shortly after the photo was taken there was nothing more to slurp. I walked and walked and walked.

It was a good day for it.

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Pull Up from The Myopic Grindstone

This a a nerd post. I'm venting. Okay, here it is the situation. I'm helping a friend install her old software to her new computer. I have my doubt about Norton Internet Security. The prior week it would not allow her to go enter certain web sites.

Couldn't see where to dial down the firewall. I looked every. I say frack it, next week I'm bringing AVG and be done with it. Backed up her system (it took a long time, old XP trooper that it was).

Finally got the stuff over. This week things are working, able to go to websites and get online mail.

Matilda* wants to re-install Eudora. I should mention that Qualcomm stopped developing and supporting Eudora. You can get the software from the site and the help info but there has been no work done on it since.

I wanted her to go to Thunderbird. On-going development. Spam protection. Better search. She was going for it until what ever blocked everything else last week blocked both Eudora and Thunderbird.

Today, Eudora is working. Thunderbird is not. 

No, I had nothing to do with it.

So, Matilda asked if she could import her contacts in Eudora. I had exported them out as a CSV file. The programs files were also backed up.

I was of a mind to grab a hunk of the old files and overwrite the new installation. Check with a few tech sites that gave the thumbs up. Checked with a few more that said don't do that, Windows 7 is less forgiving about allowing files to overwrite an existing installation.

If it isn't coming from a manufacture installation Windows 7 isn't that tolerant of being goosed.

Ok. Plan B - look for a CSV to LDIF converter.

There are some. Shareware for $49. Not doing that. There are some free ones, if you know a programing language or two.

There was one that might have worked, was free and gave it all. But Windows 7 is 64Bit OS and the software was old school 32Bit.

I even tried to download that 13 year old version Netscape Communicator because I think it had multiple export options. Not happening on Windows 7.


Ok Plan C - look for a PST to LDIF converter.

PST is the old Outlook mail file format. Eudora can read that file. If I could find a CSV to PST converter that might work.  My search ended. Nada.

What Is True Here?

I need to convert the CVS file to LDIF in order for Eudora to import it. Could Thunderbird do it? I know it can import CVS. Can it export LDIF?

Why yes. Yes it can.

I cleaned up the CSV file in Excel and then imported it. Three frigging minutes later I had that pesky file. Two minutes later I e-mail the time sucker file to Matilda.

Victory. Of sorts.

On the one hand, I spent three hours chasing down programs that don't exist or find vendors willing to provide a solution for a good chunk of change. Not saying the software wasn't worth it. I'm saying that there isn't a true repository you can go to find out your software options.

You have to find your person or beacon of information. Not a lot of modern folks writing about converting Address Book files.

The answer was in my face. I couldn't see it for hunting down the "software" I believed existed.

Once I let go of that search the answer came to me. Being methodical is one thing. A great thing. Being pig-headed about were the answer should be is truly putting your nose to the grindstone. It will hurt sooner or later.

Pull up, breath and let it come to you.

The techies will say I should have followed a specific process for file transfers. They are right.

The safety folks will say why did you allow her to download a obsolete program? It wasn't obsolete when she first started using it seven years ago. I installed maleware and system protection. I warned her of the risks. I can do no more than that.

The Thunderbird folks will say why didn't you call her ISP and ask for help.  I'm not in front of her computer. And that is something I did suggest. Or contact Norton.

I hope this is the end of it. I know it is not. I just have to hang on to hope.


*No, that isn't her name.  I'm not that sure she know what a blog is. She does go to parent sites, some of which are blogs. It is still a web site to her.  Let's just say I don't have coupons.

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A Few Words on Depression

It sucks. There is the clinical kind depression and the environmental kind of depression.

They both suck.

I'd elaborate more but I'd come to the same conclusion.

Let's just say that when you hear some person tell someone to snap out of being depressed understand that human does not have a clue of what he or she is saying.

Some times you get lost. You have to find your way out. That takes time. Or medication. Or an inspirational word, song or movie.

Sunlight.

Motion.

There is no one way out. There is no snapping.

We are not light fixtures.

We are human.

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The Speech That Should Viewed To Be Understood

I love animation in just about all the forms possible. I was telling a friend earlier in the day that I had purchased a comic book program that will animate the panels into a comic book motion graphic type video.

The tools to create are becoming more accessible. But it still takes talent and writing skills to get the job done. I need more hours in the day to do what I want to do. So very much to do. For those of you on the non-progressive side of the fence you might want to hook up with me later.




You won't like the video. I just know it. The video takes a speech of President Obama's and animate it to visual clarity.

The video was created by Why Obama Now by animator Lucas Gray.

In this current election I have been exposed to 21st century verbal and political hate that hasn't been this proud and loud since 1954. I am not using hyperbole. It seems that every other week we have a wack job busting at the seems trying to tell me that we need to turn this country back.

There is a politician in Arkansas that wrote a self-published book about just how noxious he finds African Americans to be; if you got the stomach for it you can read a bit of it at Talking Business.

My understanding is that Arkansas is trying to get tech folks to move to that part of the the country.
They are having a hard time with the pre-existing stereotypes that the locals are trying hard to shake.

This business and civic campaign might take awhile when you have a Republican state senator, Jon Hubbard, codifying what my great-grandmother must have heard at least once in her life.

Ok, maybe twice.

“… will it ever become possible for black people in the United States of America to firmly establish themselves as inclusive and contributing members of society within this country?” (Page 187)

I've heard this before. Seen it. Read it. Oh, the above statement is mild. I have no intention of reading the book.I will not co-sign on being called lazy or the reason of the fall of the white man. Even now there are commentators and other bloggers trying to defend what this guy is spewing.

Being a member of this society I have to defend Hubbard's right of free speech. Don't have to like it. Just as Hubbard is now finding out you have to stand and accept the judgment of others who may or may not approve of what you have to say.


As for me? I like the animation better. Go figure. 

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You Can't Have Too Much Software - Can You?

I finally got a new computer last Sunday. I could take no more of the lock-ups, the figuring out of what could I open when I was doing something else and being forced to shut down in the middle of a thought.

I wasn't emotionally ready to buy the $1,500+ machine. I saw something at Fry's that I could upgrade and twiddle with; it became good enough. I'm in the middle of re-installing software.

Trying not to load it up like I did with the last one. The deeper question is, "does a person really need four different video editing programs?"

Well, yeah I do cuz I have a tutorial informational blog on web video.  But it doesn't stop there. I have conversion programs, an encyclopedia that I can run from the DVD. Writing programs. Bookmark programs stuff with links I don't remember linking to in the first place.  Screen recorders, image editors, Librivox books...it is a sickness I tell you.

Should I install iTunes and not worry about it slugging stuff up? Evernote? Left to my own devices I could load this bad boy up with 200 programs.

I so don't want to do that again.

Hang On...

Lightworks just finished downloading.

It is a good thing there is no longer a chain bookstore near me. That has cut back on my access to the UK computer magazines. Those suckers always had a DVD full of software whispering to me to come closer.

I have a 1.5 terabyte drive. When I get a spare moment I'm installing another terabyte drive just for the videos. I remember the day when I thought I was hot stuff for even having a hard drive. I don't even think there was gigabyte drive s at the time.

I just looked up and saw a box for Dragon Naturally Speaking Essentials. I bought that two years ago and never finished installed it. The system couldn't handle it. Now all I gotta do is find my prefered microphone.

I recognize there is a problem. I really do.
 
Should I add Lightning to Thunderbird or get a separate app?

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Another 47% Moocher Speak Up for Education

I want to add my contribution to the many great bloggers writing about being in the 47% entitled, victim-hood and moocher club.  I though I was finished with it but I want to give my education version.

I wanted to go to college. My family encourage me to get a good job. That isn't why I wanted to go to college. I wanted to be somebody. I wanted to know things and people beyond my neighborhood.

Every book, every great movie and every in-depth news story I read growing up told me I could settle for less or get that book learning. 

So yes. Entitlement. As an American citizen, I was told to strive for the best because I could do anything I set my mind on doing. It was the implied entitlement of self-determination. Just like we were taught. In school. Public education funded by tax payers.

Now my family did encouraged me to do whatever it took to get a good job. (They really were job focused but could accept that college could bring more money.) There was absolutely no money for me to go to college.

Not from my mom who struggled to make the rent and later the mortgage. No father contribution because his interests were fermented elsewhere. No rich relatives. No clue how to do this other that the one financial aid workshop I attended.

I'd have to do it on scholarship money and financial aid. Yes, I knew I'd have to work. That was implied in all that reading I did.  Booker T. Washington comes to mind. I know there are people that do not believe broke folks understand about scrimping and saving for a long term goal.

We did. We still do.

I did get a few small scholarships but it was a student loan and what is known as a Pell grant that got me in the door.

Entitlement, check. Moocher, check.

I worked as I went to classes. The first school was in a rural place that I as a city girl had no place being. I left after a year and tried a local university.

My first university class I got the evil eyes from some of the white folks who were very angry about my presence. I believe the words uttered were "Affirmative Action." They made it known I should not have been sucking up the same air or be allowed in the room.

Now, I'm not too clear on this victim-hood part. Were they the victims for having to suffer my presence in the room? Cuz Skippy and Trixie made no pretense about their revulsion on my sitting in the class.

Still working side jobs, living in crappy places and trying to keep up. I wasn't a victim. I was really busy trying to keep up. Until I couldn't. And had to drop out.

If you are still reading at this point let me provide you with a musical interlude.


Round Two

I lick my wounds and go back again using Pell grants, more student loans and side jobs. At my community college the people I took classes with were grandmothers, guys working the 2nd or 3rd shift. We were back to school moms, welders and other folks that wanted that diploma.

No Skippy. No Trixie. No drama. We were white, black, Asian, and everybody else that was ready at 7p.m. for class.

I also took advantage of free vocational education training. I learned to type and write business letters. This was counter to my proto-feminist leanings but I needed to make sure I could crowbar my way in the door of a better job.

Round Three - Move to California 

Second day in state and I'm looking in the Classifieds. Word Processor. Data Entry. Computer operator. I had no idea what they were talking about.  I had just left my home town where companies were still working with IBM memory typewriters. I got temp jobs but I needed to learn this other stuff.

Highly motivated. In 1982 these job paid $25 an hour. However, did not have $5,000 for classes.

So my lazy broke behind bought and studied computer magazines. I was very willing to help out on temp jobs that allowed me to touch or use their computers. Learned very quickly to print out the Help menu. Covert on the job training.

Two years later,there was a free computer class at the local college. Yes, my inner moocher said ring-a-ding-ding.

In-between the classes were employment where I put my tax dollars back into the kitty. There came a time where I could pay for my classes. I paid with no complaint.

There came a time when I was teaching other people, working women, moms, domestic violence victims how to use the computer and software. I did so willingly.

My students did not know this but I was not going to let any of them leave my class without knowing how to do something. And encourage them. And respect them. And make sure they could write a simple Excel formula.  No half stepping.

This 47% moocher paid back all of my student loans.  This moocher made sure she continued to learn both in city or state supported training or through the community college or university system.

This moocher now pays for her classes because the great state of California made it possible for me to keep up with the changes in the labor market. This moocher pays taxes so that others can do the same.

About to start a new adventure, career wise. I will need to go back to school. Don't worry 51% folks. I have the money to pay for it. Or pay it back if I need another student loan.

My point in laying this all out is that people do not live in a vacuum. It isn't about taking and not giving back. Tax dollars circulate and provide a way to help others provide skills to help folks get on their feet and return the investment. Multiple times.

That doctor thumping on your chest? Student loans. That building going up? Some of those guys went through an apprentice training program in a city or state training partnership with industry. That person slinging that gourmet meal might have attended a cooking school using financial aid.

Many of you really don't know where your tax dollars are working positively for you and your communities. You now know one success story. There are millions more.

Yes, among my many gifts I am a low down 47% moocher. We are legion.

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Trying Not to Be Numbed Out and Failing

There is a part of me that wants me to "do something". There is a section of my brain that is saying "chill".  I can't handle the outrage of the day and the cruelty of humans while I'm fighting off this cold I caught last week.

The days are piling up but this unhappy camper needs to step back and just be a rank and file human being. More rank cuz I've been hacking up a bunch of dis-comfortable internal matter.

When I was a kid, I did the number about how old I'd be at this time. I hoped for flying cars. Weekend trips to Mars. Walking through the wonders of a hydroponic city.

I read a lot of SciFi when I was a kid. I was ready. I knew the future was gonna be great.

Here I am. I have access to primitive tri-corders (smartphones and tablets) I have a global communications network at my finger tips. I have friends and acquaintances on three continents.

Yet a hate filled foolish man make makes a movie whose trailer is on YouTube which is picked up by Egyptian television and people who had nothing to do with the damn thing are dead.

The conflicts of religion, free speech, intolerance and ignorance come knocking on my door. Maybe it is good that I am hacking up dis-comfortable internal matter. Keeps me from adding to the misery.

Numbing Through Literature

I've been watching clips of Jane Austen movies. I don't know why, not really a big fan of Austen's work. I tried reading it but I don't have the patience to step into that very restrictive world. The BBC versions are more accessible to me.

But here is the thing. That world had everything laid out. What you could do, what you could say, how to dress and how you should live. It was self-imposed programmed living.

There were rebels. There was a great deal of hypocrisy. In no way, shape of form would I advocate a returned to such structured living.

Yet I watch clips from the BBC series and movies. I numb out on just how daffy we are acting today. There is a kind of peace in it. A false peace, but sometimes you need a resting spot. A cave that acts as a portal to another world.

Besides, I've seen all the Justice League of America. Trying to develop a taste for Richard Diamond and Boston Blackie. The Naked City rocks but I got to pace myself on that one; excellent writing and storytelling.  The episode I saw was so good it made me feel inferior.

Then again, it might have been the cold medicine.

I have to come out of it. Get back into my flow and do some good. Or at least do no harm.

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Who Speaks for the Negro Audio Archive

Maybe this should have been posted on the library blog but I think this Robert Penn Warren audio archive has a resonance beyond libraries collections. I've been reading the transcripts of some of the recordings. Some of narrative is a challenging read.

Not because of the subject matter. It is because much of what these people experienced is being re-vamped for this time. The Voter ID Card/Poll Tax obstacle course is but one example.

http://whospeaks.library.vanderbilt.edu

Author Robert Penn Warren toted a reel to reel tape machine and spoke with the humble and the famous folks during the time of the Civil Rights movement.

These tapes have been digitized and there are transcripts of the conversations. It is a wonderful and yet hurtful look at how we have and have not changed.

Reverend Joe Clark talks about folks being color struck and self hateful that they do all they can not to be black:

...And, the upshot of it all is the only thing that they have to base this artificial situation on is the color of their skin and the texture of their hair, which to me is not a satisfying standard, because after all we had nothing to do with it. You have no personal sense of accomplishment in being fair with light skin and when you look beyond the skin color and the hair texture and you ask, well, what have you done to justify your existence here – and – then in ninety nine cases out of a hundred there is nothing there. 

There are contemporary 21st Century music performers doing the same things. Straight up minstrel shows for profit. Assimilation 101.

There is a lot of historical grounding in the audio. These are not the mythical people found in my elementary school history books. This is" my life is on the line and I want folks to know why" documentation.

Funny how some of the old tropes are being re-worked in the current election. Words like lazy. Subsidies. Nanny state.  Swap out communism for socialism and you can see how much has and hasn't changed.

You can listen to the audio on the site or you can read the transcripts. I would suggest you start with the non-famous folks first. They need to be heard.

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Eastwood and Invoking the Isms

I was that kid in the front row chomping down on popcorn during the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. There he was, Clint Eastwood,  10 feet tall blasting the hell out of somebody so some poor folks could stop cowering in fear about the weekly desperado coming to loot up the joint.

My desperados were closer to home. It helped to know some body was doing something about it even if it was in Italy.

Clint Eastwood has made really great movies. It is not like I did not know he was a conservative. But it seemed like this was a guy you could disagree with and walk away with an honest discussion for a memory.

I don't know what to think now. When I see the photo of Clint Eastwood talking down to a chair there is  a twinge in my heart. I know what the chair represents. If you ever sat in a similar chair as a kid, you know that feeling.

Who Did He Think He Was Talking To?

My adult pain is tied up in a political campaign that has sought to alienate a good portion of those of us that are not male, European American or wealthy. We have been told we really don't know or have been correctly educated to understand what this country stands for; and only those that have the privileged of a monetary perspective can truly understand how America should be run.

The current campaign has told me as much through media and coded speeches to the fearful and the opportunistic.

I can get angry because it is the usual suspects. I can ignore them because I want to focus on positive action. I even cut back on blogging my agitation on BlogHer and other places because I don’t want to stir up a heated useless fuss.

I want to share paths to solutions. I can’t do that when I am so very angry. I’ve slipped up a few time but I don’t want to add to the noise. I really don’t.

There is a part of me that flashes back to that kid in the front row chomping down on popcorn during the Good, the Bad and the Ugly. That guy was invoked at the convention. Somebody else showed up.





























I am not stupid. I expect political hyperbole in an election year. I expect that racism will be used as a method to get out the vote. And yes, facts will be an impediment to an successful campaign so ditch them.

I just didn’t expect this mess to come out of this man’s mouth.

It is not the first time somebody has used the invisible chair routine. The Smithsonian blog has a good write up about how the political chair has been used over the years.

The Grid Doesn’t Lie 

You have this film icon of imaginary gunfights and wars talking down to a chair. In that small chair is supposed to be the President of the United States of America. Reducing the image down to its core element you see:

Who is in power and who is the supplicant? Because when an 82 year old white man who has made his living off creating illusions of being the man that rights wrongs tries to chastise and speak for a sitting African American president using what he thinks is the vernacular:

EXCUSE -- WHAT DO YOU MEAN YO, SHUT UP?

I have to tell you it stinks. It is a familiar stench. I never thought that I’d see Clint do the “Old Massa” role.

The Rights of Free Speech

Yes, each citizen has the right to criticize and hold Obama accountable for what was promised and what was delivered. We don’t even have to be nice about it.

And dang skippy if some of y’all have been especially vocal in you disapproval.

There is just one fact that cannot be ignored. Obama is the President of the United States. Not your house boy.

And the icon used in that “performance” perhaps unintentionally, is a reminder of who intends to be in charge and how the old order will be restored.

A small message to those who fund and support the re-establishment of the old world order.

This is our place. Our country as well as yours. It is an inconvenient truth. For those of us that are not white, Christian or abstinent, we’d thought you had understood we live here too.

You might chose to be color blind or diversity hostile but this is where we shall continue to live, grow and prosper. Deal with it.

Mr. Eastwood, maybe you just got carried away in the moment. Maybe you truly feels the country should be rolled back to 1961. I don't know.

We Won’t Go Back.

There is this ember in me that wants to assert it is possible to find solutions that include grass roots networking and corporate relationships. It is possible to generate meaningful employment without giving multi-billionaires and corporations tax breaks or forcing people to work for impoverish wages.

I'm putting that ember in a safe place. America is not ready. Not today.

I’ll be better in a few days because good people will remind me that none of the work of a democracy is easy. This is a long distance run.

I just think we should not wait for something severe to happen that force people out of selfish, myopic visions.

Sadly, I know my history.

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Robert Scheer and How He Got to Vietnam

Robert Scheer knows a lot of people. Some of the people he mentions in this clip recorded at the Media Makers 99% Summit I haven't a strong connection as to who they are or were. Lots of history gets lost that way.



I have heard of Paul Krassner but not to clear on the details. The good news is that I should probably find out why this man is important or at least why does Scheer think so.

For more information about Robert Scheer you can check out www.truthdig.com.

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Robert Scheer on Working for the Los Angeles Times

The realities of current living make me want to hide in a deep cave but that isn't what I was sent here on the planet to do.


In March 2012 I attended the Media Makers for the 99% Summit. Robert Scheer was one of the speakers. He has a lot of things to say and I got about 40 some minutes of him saying it.  In this video clip, he is talking about how he got started, his liberalism and working for the Los Angeles Times.

Objectivity is subjective. Pick the subject and we may or may not have a bias but we are self centered about how we see the world. We all are. You don't have to pick a side, this is human nature.

But it does help to explain how we got into this mess we find ourselves. It is one thing to be sitting in a bar talking trash. Is is another to legislate with trash biased thinking.

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Light Up the Lady Bits Before It is Outlawed

When I did watch terrestrial television there the advertisement of that goofball with the giant grin would be ever present on the dial. So proud he was of stretching his tighty whiteys. 

The commercials were not exactly crude. Just a nudge and a wink to sell natural herbal kickstarters to juice up the male vascular system. No, I am not going to type the names. You know the names by heart.

Y'all know that for the past couple of years I've been advocating, quietly, to stock up on the toys and enjoyments of a female sensual nature.  It is not all I do or write about. It is a part of my life.

And your life too.

It isn't just me, there are a lot of bloggers ages advocating for healthy sexual expression (however you define it) or non-expression. It is a matter of choice. Of options to explore.

I use to think so. Until this week.

Cuz I didn't figure on the high number of biologically ignorant and stupid grown men who do not have a clue about basic biology. Men in  political power who are busy trying to legislate our control over our bodies.

Or the other ones, that think our bodies are a switch. I read something about a woman whose husband watches sports as soon as he comes home. The man does little to communicate with her during the week.

Come Saturday night he wants the bango-bango like it is his blood right.  Not the first time I heard about this and it won't be the last. Selfish brains wrapped up in a living body bag.

Enough about them. This is about us. This is a short video from Zestra using a bus analogy to why some women need a little help when they want to get busy.



I haven't used Zestra. I think I'm gonna check it out. But when I went to look at the web site video page I saw that the video viewing numbers were kinda low. Part of the reason is that they cannot get their commercials aired on broadcast and cable television.

Because broadcasters do not want to advertise a product that advocates women's active sexuality.  There is something wrong about that. But since the dinosaur of old school TV is on its way out I ain't gonna grieve all that much.

Here is the thing. I do want women to warm up their lady bits with healthy options. Like I said, I gotta test this out but more than that I want more women talking about the sexuality in our own terms.

Yes, we truly need to beat back that ignorant ish that is being pumped as taking our country back to a period of repression. 

Sexuality should not be a pain inflicting weapon (except for y'all into BDSM culture.) but the dominion of broadcasters or, more to the point, those that are casting the wishes of broads aside, needs to be broken.

Chip, chip chip away. Take them down. One way is to look at the videos.

Tell a friend. Discuss. If you buy the Zestra oil apply liberally or conservatively as your nature dictates.

My 2nd Disclaimer of the Week

Not a paid shill. I received an offer to try out a sample. I haven't decided if I will do that or just go out and buy the oil. I do want to advocate for sexual expression particularly for midlife women.  That is why I put up the post and the videos.

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You Can Learn A Lot from A Mug

I went to the Urban Dictionary because I needed a few more words for penis. Because I want to write something and there might be a penile limit to how much I can type penis.

Mugs and Shirts for Sale at Urban Dictionary

I hit the home page and the first thing I see is this citation and the option to buy mugs. I get the person wanted to make a point. I do.

I get that Urban Dictionary uses contributors to the site to help generate income and it is on auto-pilot. I'm not asking for outrage or action against anybody.

But I say unto you, the fuckers still do not get it or understand.  And as much as the concept of having those two words fused on to mugs and t-shirts irk me I have to say that the next citation just adds fuel to an already burning fire.

I didnt want to date the ho, I was just DTF

Now help me out here. Women are being told you can't have access to birth control. Can't have access to the morning after pill. Can't even be sure that if you miscarry in certain states you won't be arrested.  But plow boys can whip it out day and night. Expectation of plenty and you, female person are considered a ho if you give it up. Hypocrisy 101.

I don't know. Maybe we should go all the way back and have young men raise sheep.


We need to make it understood that rape is not a commodity to be sold. Like it is now being done politically. Like it has been done in the marketplace.

Do what you need to do, I'm just showing you a bit more of what we are up against.

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Do We Even Know What Freedom Means?

Because when you constrict the rights of freedom of thought, expression and the right to vote in order to "be safe" you have lost everything.

What do we know or care about freedom if you won't move from polemics to action.

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Be Alert for Microsoft Tech Support Call Scam

It isn't like we don't have enough to worry about. Scammers to the left and bad hackers to the right. This is just a heads up to those people that don't know about scammers now are calling folks claiming to be from Microsoft (they are not) and offering to fix your problems for money.

Actual Microsoft Safety and Security Center

Or a message pops up on your screen stating that you have hard drive troubles and to call this number or visit a web site. Oh please do not do that. Nope. Bad thing.  What may have happened is that maleware has been placed on your system to mimic trouble to get you to pay for a fix that could be worse than the cure.

Microsoft does not cold call for consumer support services. It is a billion to almost trillion dollar company.  They might have trouble moving Windows phones but they ain't that hard up.

The call or alternate web site is a scam. Read up on how the scammers work the unaware folks and other things that you can do to protect yourself.

I have some ideas on the topic:

1. Install MalewareBytes and run that bad boy once a week if you are on the free version or better yet pay for it and get 24/7 protection so that nothing gets installed on your system without you knowing about it..
2. Install CCleaner and run that as well to get rid of old Internet cache files and cookies you did not want or asked for.
3. Make sure that you have a total protection anti-virus, spyware, maleware protection package updated on your computer. Make sure there is a good firewall included as well.
4. Create and use one-purpose passwords for life critical web sites. This means a separate password for banking, credit cards or anything it would disrupt your life if thieves got a hold of it. 

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The Older Women In the Room

Well that title will scare off a bunch of people. I know my gray hair did at the conference. But that isn't the whole story. I want to tell the whole truth. I was in transit when I heard that President Obama would speak at BlogHer.

Once I got settled into the hotel, I went to a Duane Reed drugstore and bought hair dye. I was not going to be in that ballroom with the President without flashing some reddish hair. I was going to do it. Until I realized that there was no way for me to clean up hair dye in a hotel room.

I wished I had worked this out before spending $9 on Natural Instincts. Or getting the fact straight that he was doing a live video presentation from the White House.

Still, Little Miss Aging Affirmative got stuck in the hoopla of appearance phobia.

Then I went the other way. Washed and picked out my natural hair. It is gray and brown and dark brown and whatever else ancestor want to put a word in. to the mix.



It was like I opened a can of Raid or something. My friends and on-line acquaintances that knew me embraced me like a long lost friend. Newbies and those women under a certain age kept their distance.

There is a reason for that, check out the video.

I walked a lot in New York City. I saw many a woman stroll down the street styled perfectly. Young, old, trendy. They were wearing the perfection suit of invisibility. Attractive enough to approach but only if you could reach the bar of acceptance.



Time and living have raised the bar on me and I didn't know. Or want to know. I kept on walking and looking at the images of Park Avenue mannequins, the ones in the window. Alabaster white, sleek and implacable in the seller's point of view.

To be fair, there were some onyx mannequins that did little more than hold up the status of tight clothes on young ridged bodies.



Brand identity and storytelling they call it. But it leaves a lot of people out of the narrative.

My bodies story isn't being told. This is not acceptable. Really, it is not.

The video clips are excerpts from my recording of the Blogging Into MidLife session at BlogHer 2012 NYC.

Ann Dunnewold writes about aging issues on her blog at VibrantNation.com
Darryle Pollack blogs at http://blog.darrylepollack.com
Patricia Patton hangs her shingle at http://www.boomerwizdom.com

I'm working on uploading the full session, hope to have it up soon.

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How I Scared Myself Silly and Learned A Lesson

It was Saturday night and I went for one more walk in New York. I went to the bank ATM and then bought a salad. I was trying to figure out how to pack my stuff preparing to head back home.

I went back to my room. I put everything on the bed and started packing. It didn't fit. I thought maybe if I went to the 24 Duane Reed store I could by a box or something. I walked out of the door and as soon as it closed I knew my wallet was on the other side.

Stupid, stupid I said to myself as I stood in the lobby waiting for the hotel clerk. All I had was my BlogHer badge. The clerk explained that she needed a photo id card.

The clerk called security and a gentleman walked me back to my room; opened the door and I head for the center of the bed where I thought I left my wallet.

It wasn't there. I'm feeling all over the bed and in my suitcase. Not there.

We go back downstairs to the security office. My mind is trying to think but the fear is blocking the connections. How am I going to get home? Where is my wallet? My god, the ATM card is in my wallet too.

The main security dude ask me questions. Exactly where did I go when I left the hotel? What did I do next? How did I get back into the room? In the meantime it was suggested that I cancel my credit card.

Did you put it in the room safe? No. (I didn't because I have a fear of forgetting the combination. Stupid, stupid and in hindsight, dumb.)

In my head I was bouncing in terror. How was I going to pay the hotel bill? Get to JFK? Get out of LAX? How do I prove I am who I say I am?

Dragnet time. I understood, he didn't know me from nothing. The security dude kept asking the same questions and slowly the logic portion of my brain came back over the fear.  I had to prove what I was saying was the truth. 

I had to have the card to get back into the room. I knew my wallet was in the room but I couldn't put together what happened. No one was around me to be able to take my wallet. How did I get into the room if I didn't have it?

I asked that I return to the room one more time with the security guard. If it wasn't there then I would cancel the card.

In the elevator, I heard TexasBeth say that it was a great fashion show. I told her what happened. I remember her telling me her room number if I needed help. I really appreciated that but I was in find it mode. I was in a bad fix and my mind was trying to remember.

The door opened and I hit that bed like my life depended on it. I touched everything. I found my wallet in one of the handbags. I had forgotten that I switched the handbag when I went out.

I truly didn't remember. (Insert maximum amount of cussing myself, I ripped myself a new seam of pain.) Really a bad time to have a midlife moment of mental blankness.

I started crying like a fountain in relief. I apologized to the guard multiple times. He backed out of the room. The main security guy radioed back for him to to check my photo ID.

No problem, I wanted to show him and anybody at that hotel I was who I said I was. It was like being on the other side of CSI. I could prove I wasn't the bad person.

After he left I started crying again. I was so angry with myself. I wasn't leaving that room again until I checked out of the hotel.

Let me stress that the Hilton hotel security was professional, kind and they had to balance trying to help versus allowing some woman enter a hotel room she can't prove she belonged in or trying to skip out on the bill.

Lessons Learned

That radical acceptance thing has to kick in. This is the situation you are in, deal with it and figure it out later. I had to lean on what I knew was right for me versus what the security guy was telling me to do which was to cancel my card.

In this case I lucked out. But what if it had been stolen? I needed to be ready to find a way to make it right. To tell the truth, I didn't have a clue where to begin.

If you can't afford to lose it keep it home. I didn't need to have both my credit card and ATM card. I could have pulled cash before the trip and use the card for day to day expenses.

Use the hotel safe. They probably have a master key to open it if you forget the combination.

Have a back-up person at home that you can contact if you need some help.

I'm grateful how it work out.  I'll travel with more awareness and self-protection next time. Also will invest in brain boosters. 

PS - I did manage to pack everything in the suitcase and two handbags. I got double screened at TSA but I made it home to tell the tale.

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Choosing to Kick the Can

I did a lot of walking in New York City. The more I walked the more I missed home. This is a good thing because sometimes Los Angeles can get on your last nerve. You have to leave it to appreciate it. I missed the palm trees and the mountains.

Then again, you get to see things in a new light.

Once upon a time I used to drink soda like water. I know that I must have drank 10 to 15 cans a day. My mouth ran at light speed from all of the caffeine and sugar I was ingesting.

I was cranked up to maximum speed. Years later I went on a diet that totally cut out sugar. I had to go through a period of detox. Oh, my god was that tough. Headaches. Foggy thinking. Hostility.

When I got to the other side of the detox there was mental clarity. I dropped a lot of weight. My skin was perfect. I eventually slipped out of that diet but I never went back to that much soda ingestion.

Independent of the bottling company's intentions, I have a problem with any governmental body telling folks what they can and can't do with their bodies.There has to be a compelling, life threatening. and cost to society reason for the restriction of food products.

I get it. The cost of treating illness compounded with obesity issues does impact health care costs. We do eat way too much sugar, both visible and hidden. The costs are staggering.

I'm just not sure that banning the amount of consumption is the way to go about it. I have a feeling there will be 3 liter soda bottle smuggling from New Jersey.

I bring this up because here in California we have been seeing bus ads about the 22 teaspoons of sugar in a 20 ounce soda. One of the awareness web sites is the Kick The Can campaign.


There are other voices putting their two cents such as The Santa Clara County Public Health Department and Kaiser Permanente who are responsible for the video.

So what is my point? I think this has to be a personal decision and responsibility. Don't get me wrong. I do support what Mayor Bloomberg is trying to do; the health repercussion of internal obesity are serious.

Until each individual makes an informed decision about ingesting huge amounts of sugar and psuedo-sugars I don't think that you can have a long term lasting dietary change.

The money invested in ad campaigns making sure we remain un-healthy is staggering. Soda consumption advertising taps into our primal connections with community, social life and who we think we are.  Except that we are not runners, high jumpers or always walking on the beach with our loved ones.

Our desire to change must be real and committed. That has to go beyond legislation.

When folks said they didn't want high fructose corn syrup in their food products the industry changed and provided alternative non-HFCs products.  I think the same can happen when there are alternatives to super sugar drinks. I don't mean the diet stuff either.

So if you want to be healthier cut back on the sugar drinks. Or not. But don't leave it to the beverage companies or anyone else to make that decision for you. You are the one that has to live with it.

Looking down at my thighs I got some inner reflection to do as well.

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Pulling Up the Big Girl Panties

In my heart, I love to travel. It is my head that gets in the way. I am supposed to be packing. Doing laundry. Confirming reservations.I am not doing these things.

I have 12 more hours and I've wasted time. I'll be fine. Once I've typed this out of my system.

Saturday I was in a department store. I turned the corner and saw these items for sale. None in my size. Not that I would wear Hello Kitty panties. I would not. Never. On this I swear.

Batgirl or Wonder Woman? Perhaps. Not that anyone has seen me naked lately but I'd have some explaining to do. Then again if I have to explain maybe the relationship is not meant to be. But if I was with a guy who wore Joker underwear I would be extremely concerned.

I am a hypocrite. And anyway, just because it was in the women's undies section who is to say those are Batgirl's panties? It could be the main Bat.  I don't want to wear Batman's underway. Love the guy but he is a little tense. Sticking with Batgirl.

I have the opportunity to see old friends. Meet new people. Learn things I do not know. Confirm that I am still here. The little kid would couldn't imaging this trip. The depressed adult that wasn't sure it was worth it to go on. The office drone that longs to bust out of the cubicle.

Here it is. This is the time. I can do this. It is okay. I can chose to eat alone or with people. I can introduce myself to the other. It has been a while since I've challenged myself.

I can do the best that I can and for god's sake not judge myself against other people. It messes with being present in the here and now.

I'm scared. In a good way.

So with this I'm pulling up the invisible big girl panties. All I need  now is a cape. Or some rocking boots.

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What Is In that Purse?

This year I'm traveling as light as possible. Which doesn't mean I'm going to BlogHer 2012 empty handed.  It just means that I'm thinking about what devices would more than one job?



Last year there was a mobile tech panel at BlogHer 2011 San Diego. Each one of the participants showed what they carried for business and personal use.

Adding up the amount of tech these ladies used in 2011 is impressive. Tablets, smartphones, camcorders and support technology.

I have held off buying a tablet. Not even the Nexus 7 could move me to do so. But I am close. I want a rear functional camera.  I have to have an SD expansion slot.

I will be visiting the Expo floor looking for my hearts desire. I might make some lucky vendor very happy. I doubt it but I can't give up the search.

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Open Letter to Jeanette at Utah Valley Magazine

A few days ago Utah Valley Magazine had a photo of some of the women in the office. You might have heard about it. This is a copy of that photo.

The headline for the photo was Women of Color. Now, hold on those of you who are women of color for just a sec. For those of you not traditionally thought of as women of color take two seconds.

I know. I understand. I got a brand new dent on my desk.  Deep breath, let the good air in, let the bad air out. Ok.

The editor of the magazine, Jeanette Bennett has written her explanation of how the photo and the headline came to be published. This is the comment that I left on her blog.

I wanted to address her question in the post as to why folks got so heated up about the headline and photo and how they did not seem to articulate anything more than anger. And there are some angry folks. Understandable.

But if she was serious about wanting to know why the headline and photo struck a bunch of nerves I wanted to step up and give it a go. It is not the only reason. No,  certainly not. And I know for certain there will be white folks that will be angry about being told they have no color. Never said that nor implied it.

Damn, I hate race based posts that require a book and a half to do properly. Anyway, this is the comment that I left at her blog. It may or may not be approved but I wanted to make sure some body sees it.

I appreciate your efforts to clarify how the cover and headline occurred. I am not here to cuss you out. No hate, no insults and no calls for lighting folks up.

As an African American woman I want to chime in on why the headline and the photo caused people to blink repeatedly. I have to say looking at the photo there was a psychic disconnect.

You know, it has been kinda rough for people of color. We have so many folks that want to be blind to seeing our ethnicity aka " I don't see color, I see the person."  Not really true, but I'm not here to get that fire going. Another trope is "I'm American, dammit, why can't you be too?" I am American with ancestors from Africa. I don't want my history expunged.

No, of course you did not mean for that meaning. Yet your headline or photo did that. In addition, with the bitterness and mendacity of the current political campaigns it certainly feels like open season on anyone not white, Caucasian or so called true American. It was, in a way a reminder of how a term is appropriated by another ethnic group then presented as their own definition.

There is a disconnect. There was a WTF moment that seem to imply resonance with the desire to turn this country back to 1945 or earlier.

You as a writer and editor know that words have a life and an energy of their own once published.  That is what happened to your headline. For some of us it was hurtful because we were not present in that photo. We were erased but the term remained visible under folks that rosy cheeks and straight flowing hair.

It is like have the a traditional Caucasian church choir (any choir, not specify any that might happen to be in Utah) attempting to sing One Nation Under A Groove.  It is possible to for the choir to sing the words. It would be a similar psychic disconnect. It would resonate poorly.

That is what happened. The photo and headline resonated exclusion.  Exclusion sometimes generates anger.  Or sadness. Or maybe confirmation that we have much more work to do to understand each other.

I suspect that there are people of color in your community that could write for your magazine. You might have to look past your usual social networking groups. You might have to shift your perceptions that they are not present.

Perhaps there is something about the mag that discourages contributions from people of color.

That would be a good place to start looking within.

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Holding On To the Crack of Doom

The nasty azz dark night of the soul does not care how you got to that dark side only that you stay and keep it company. I keep finding escape holes but I trip up and fall back in.

What helps me to stay out the pit is knowing that a lot of blogging friends and friends in real life are doing great things. I'm happy for them and want to witness and support their efforts.

For example, Lania Dawes new book "What Are You Doing Here? on black women and heavy metal is coming out in September 2012. You can check out her Facebook page.

Liz Rizzo is working on getting funding for her directorial effort Missing Miranda via Kickstarter.

Other folks are starting new jobs, new families, traveling, inventing stuff. What am I doing? Not writing a book. Not directing a film. Not speaking to fascinating people. I blog. I go to work. I fight to stay out of the dark miasma and sometimes I fail.

I'm not the bright shiny penny I once was. At 54 years of age I can be bright but it is hard to accept that people will not look at me if they perceive I am old.

I fought freaking hard to be this age. I know stuff. I've seen stuff. Yet the invisibility cloak others extend is trying to hush me up.

I keep meaning to slap in some hair dye. Not as a way to stay young but to put a fuzz filter on other people's perceptions. Haven't done it yet. I will in a couple of days. I want to spend time with a little red in the hair to see what it is like.

Redefining Success

It is getting up out of the bed. It is doing work for pay. Not because I want to do it but because I am exchanging labor for money. And security. It will not always be this way I tell myself but I haven't found my path.

Part of my path is invisible and the other is down the road a spell. It has always been like that. It has lead me to good places if I remain open.

Redefining success is not judging myself by other people. That part is hard. I know some really neat, kind and spiritually (not religiously but those people emanating a light of joy. ) successful people.

I'm honored to know them. But boy, do they make it hard to be a shlub.

Redefining success is understanding that menopause just kicked my azz and the heifer won. She snatched some of my energy and super powers. I'll get them back but I have to look for new ways to access those powers.

I had to re-learn to write in my own voice. I have to allocate time and not over book or under sleep. I can do it but not all at the same time. Freaking resent that part.

So I am indeed holding on to the crack of doom. Which might come in December. Or a long time away from now. Because if Malcolm Gladwell is right that it takes at 10,000 times to master a skill then I got a ways to go before I can declare myself as an abject failure.

In a few weeks I will introduce myself to people I don't know. They will ask what I do. I will not actually say this but I want to say I'm majoring in survival with a minor in lunacy navigation.

Not far from the truth.

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Gaby Moreno at Make Music Pasadena 2012

With the current xenophobia running rampant in this country wrapped in patriotism it is hard to make the case that we need to listen.

Think. Reason it out. It does not matter now.

Either we unite under one nation or we splinter in to a pseudo sovereign void. Not about the left or the right anymore. You can't white wash a nation. We can destroy ourselves but we can't go back.

I get tired of trying to talk to people who will not listen. And the ones that do listen are just fed up. How much more can you take in one day? You can't keep ingesting negativity.

I don't want to. Not today.



Which is why the spirits and or random DNA cells allow for music. This is just a short clip from a performer named Gaby Moreno. She was busting serious vocals at Make Music Pasadena 2012.

I was across the street at Samy's Camera getting a new memory card. I walk out the door and I hear this voice booming from half a block away.

I mosey on over to Memorial Park and there she was blending that Guatemalan voice around blues licks from some African from long ago. The ugliness, stupidity and mendacity of the world no longer mattered.

We who heard her were bound in a place of music. No ID card required. For more information about Gaby you can visit her Facebook page.

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Knowing Is Half the Battle and So Is Laughter

Last night I was checking the YouTube to see if there was any goodies I had missed. I glance at the right of the screen. The man was crafted skin tight. Nice looking fella but I couldn't take my eyes off of Mike's chest.

You know, on the list of things I have to develop, my chest area is not one of them.  One night you are able to sleep flat on the sheet. A week later you have bumps. That grow and grow and I really had no say in the matter.

This video is nine minutes of a man working hard for his body.



I can see his abdominal muscles. I count four but I can see the other two under his pectorals.

You know, it is a pleasure to watch a guy work out. It is not necessarily sexual. It could be if my hormones were at high tide. I'm posting it so that when my hormones flow upward again I don't have to hunt for this video. This is called being pro-active.

I'm looking at the aesthetics of him lifting up those weight.  Dude is kinda cute tho.

YouTube seems to think that I need a shape up. How they knew about my visit to my doctor is beyond me. This is like a re-enforced guilty reminder of something, I don't know what.

I do know that I will never be sleek. I have curves. I am rounded. For heath reasons I need to drop a few pounds but I am designed for puffyness.

So I am taking the pledge to eat more veggies this week. Not lettuce. Full green and orange veggies. Because I want to.

And I will walk more. 

And not let the societal pressures of having a perfect body get me down.

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Flipping Out on Yoga

The sun is shining bright and luscious. It is not too hot or muggy. This is my kind of perfection. The doves are cooing. The crows respond with death threats. All is right in my world.

I'm still working my way through the magazine. I  know I am in magazine land because in the table of contents they have more skinny legged young women in skirts blown with the breath of angels that cause cascading curls.

There is picture of a plate of brownies but there is a tag line about avoiding temptation. The brownies are dull, brown and unattractive.

Phflibt. I should go to Mad Magazine to look up the correct spelling.

The good news is that I am almost out the the ad copy area because there is a brown hair big ole eyed girl with caterpillars for eyelashes.  Very shiny, crystal clear peach color puffy lips.

Seriously, you can count the folds and the ridges. No cracks. No jagged bits of flesh. No teeth marks when you accidentally bite your lip.

I'm thinking her lips were shot with a Hasselblad camera. $26,000 for the cheap version and god knows how much to trick that camera into digital still perfection.  Must be a full size sensor...

Wait, this isn't about cameras. Dang it.

Moving On. 

Page 13.  Actual words that lead to stories.

Take a naked yoga class. There are naked yoga classes? I have taken yoga classes and everybody had clothes on. Even the ones that looked like their tights were spray painted on were dressed.

Not sure I'd want to do the Extended Fish pose with boobies dangling as I'm trying to balance my head and feet. And my thighs? I got dents and ridges and splotches and freckles? They move too although I wish they didn't.

And what is the etiquette when you accidentally look up and see another persons labia? 

Page 14. Men use hyperfocal thinking.  This means that their brains can only handle one task at a time.

Naw, that is not true. I've seen them eat and watch sports, eat and watch porn or eat and cuss out the guy who just cut him off in traffic. 

You just got to get their attention in between bites. No biggy.

Page 15. More caterpillars around eyes, this time laced with green sparkles.

Page 16. More women raising up their dresses to show off their shoes. They are wearing mini dresses? What is there to raise?

Page 17. The letter page. "Thank you for showing me that guys like women with make-up." Thank you for letting me know I was an orgasm virgin."  "Thank you for showing me how to dress so my date doesn't run away in horror."

I Am So Confused. 

Page 20. The survey responds that guys want to wait five dates before they have sex with a woman. Oh, hell no, somebody is lying!

This part is straight up fiction. 54% are turned on by a woman's butt. Yet none of the women displayed in the magazine have an ample fanny. Almost none of these women have bumpus in rumpus.

Words fail me. Actually, I'm still stuck on naked yoga. And the reason I am stuck on it is because I think I have a VHS tape called Naked Yoga.

I didn't buy it. I think I inherited it in a move or two many years ago.

If I remember correctly there was a mountain top, lush green lands and a man and a women doing poses starkers. This was back in the 1990s so I'm not sure if there was true nakedness or not.

The dude might have worn a diaper/thong kind of thingy. I'll get back to you.

I'm curious how they did the Downward Dog.

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