Pro-Union, Pro-America

The Republican Party sold out workers' rights to America's CEOs. Again.

This week, Republicans blocked a vote in the Senate on the Employee Free Choice Act, legislation that would make it easier for workers to organize a union and fight for higher wages, better benefits and improved working conditions.

Write a letter to your local newspaper about the Republican Party's efforts to silence the American people and obstruct our democracy.

Cause they suck.

Step 1: Change Your Lightbulbs

Remember the energy revolution? I knew you did. Even those who didn't join me get to help out as I outline each step and appeal to your inner goodness.

Plus energy efficiency is hot. And so are you if you play along.

You've probably changed all the lightbulbs in your home to energy saving compact fluorescents already. Saving the environment as well as money on your electricity bill.

Now do something for someone else. Maybe it's a friend who hasn't gotten around to changing their lightbulbs yet, because UFC is so damn compelling, or maybe you know an older person who can't easily reach high up light fixtures. Whoever it is, help them out by changing at least one of their bulbs.

And put those energy wasting bulbs away somewhere safe. You'll want them for a later step!

What Kills One Woman Every Minute of Every Day?

a. AIDS
b. Childbirth
c. Heart Attack Caused By Straining to Pick Up Your Sh*t And Accidentally Slipping on Your Kids' Sh*t

Answer: b

This is a serious issue. And I'm down with keeping more women alive: universal health care, family planning, safe and legal abortions, education, skilled care available in third world countries, access to meds for pregnant women who are sick, etc.

Many agencies, like the World Health Organization, NARAL, and Centers for Disease Control, are on top of this problem and we need to push for more so women stop dying.

But who's gonna help me?

My childbirth experience occurred seven goddamn years ago. And it's still f*cking killing me.

Every minute. Of every day.

Twenty-four hours of:

"Mommy, I don't want to sleep in 'till 7am. No fair!"
"I'm starving! When's breakfast?"
"Can we please go to the park?"
"I'm bored."
"I don't have to go potty."
"He started it!"
"I don't remember how my lip got busted."
"I don't want this, I want peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again for lunch."
"Mommy! He won't stop touching me!"
"An hour of PS2 isn't enough.'
"No fair. I didn't get a turn."
"Are you sure you didn't give me my vitamins this morning? I'd hate to take too much and end up dead."
"Look at this gun I made with Legos. Cool, huh?"
"Okay Mommy. I'll be there in a minute."
"One more chance. Please?"
"This is yucky dinner. How much do I have to eat to get dessert?"
"I need one more glass of water before bed."

Who's searching for *my* cure?

Another Example of F*cked Up Priorities

Last week, the Colorado Fiscal Policy Institute released a report on how Colorado continues to fall behind other states in key areas of public investment. (cclponline.org)

The report shows that, among the 50 states, Colorado ranks:

--49th in covering the uninsured and low-income families under Medicaid
--39th in improving our state highways per capita
--48th in per-capital investment on higher education
--34th in per-capita investment in public elementary and secondary schools

Also released last week was a study by the National Priorities Project which showed how Colorado taxpayers will pay $2.1 billion for the cost of the Iraq War in FY 2007. (nationalpriorities.org)

For the same amount of tax dollars, the study found that the following could have been provided:

--42,840 Public Safety Officers our first line of defense against terrorism or
--760,006 Children with Health Care or
--257 New Elementary Schools or
--391,561 Scholarships for University Students or
--11,138 Affordable Housing Units or
--2,772,721 Homes with Renewable Electricity

This report does not report the tax of human lives: Colorado's sons and daughters from who have been killed serving in Iraq. This afternoon, another memorial service is taking place in Colorado Springs for two more Colorado soldiers who were recently killed in Iraq.

The Bush adminstration and right-wing members of Congress, while claiming they are against taxes, are spending your tax dollars on Iraq with devastating trade-offs here at home.

It's time to call the Iraq war what it is: a massive tax on each American family, taxpayer and child.

It's also time to stop it.

Join Me

For drinks.

Kidding.

Of course, not really. I'm always up for tequila. But right now I'm talking about a 7-step climate change campaign with Greenpeace. We are starting with lightbulbs, but it's about energy efficiency generally.

So join me.

Greenpeace proposes an "Energy Revolution" to save the world from catastrophic climate change. Half of it is about saving the power we use. And this campaign is about people like us helping to outlaw products that waste energy. Every week, for seven weeks, Greenpeace sends out an email with instructions how to campaign effectively for energy efficiency.

Every ton of carbon dioxide pumped into the atmosphere, every coal burning power plant built and every energy wasting lightbulb installed makes it harder for us to stop climate change. Each one is one more thing we'll need to undo. Better to do it right the first time.

Let's start an energy revolution!

Seriously, it's better than watching Bravo and complaining about your thighs.

Isn't it?

h/t Chelsie

The Mix-Up

I grew up with the Beastie Boys. When they started making music, I was in high school and instantly connected with the rebellious and rocking party tunes they churned out. She's On It and Brass Monkey bring me back to bonfires on the Causeway where we promised to keep in touch forever.

College started and Paul's Boutique arrived with a trippy and advanced style, including lyrics that were alternately frivolous and fun or thought-provoking. After a particularly grueling day of exams, Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun sounded perfect in your car's new stereo system for those nights where we just parked, turned it up, and listened.

Packed essential clothes and one album, Check Your Head, when I took off one summer on my own to discover the west. Part rap, part instrumental - the songs signaled a more mature style as I contemplated life after school in between tattoo sessions and Grateful Dead concerts.

Out on my own as a hard-working twenty-something, I connected with Ill Communication, especially MCA's cosmic awakening. It mirrored my own path from religious to spiritual. Hello Nasty was my soundtrack when walking the streets of Boston every day to work. And there is no better Bush bashing than To The 5 Boroughs - a cry for change before the last election.

So here we are now, in the midst of a mess, both personally - new town, homesick, no job, no home - and as a country - Iraq war, corrupt administration, global warming, screwing endangered species. I could go on and on. This is the perfect time to contemplate and let some funky instrumentals soothe your soul.

The Mix-Up. Buy it. Download it. Today.

You won't be sorry.

I'm Homesicko

My friend Dawn tackles Sicko and tales of the young and uninsured in Tampa Bay -- and some alternatives for finding care for Creative Loafing this week.

Read it and weep.

Good job, Dawn.

"What - You Don't Come with a Bottle of Schnapps?"

I'd buy one of these, but who would I call?

Less than a handful of Jews in this town and I already live with seven of 'em. Of course, I could always phone Focus on the Family peeps, ask embarrassing questions and then set up a podcast.

Plus there's the Schnapps.

Speaking of possibilities, I'm still searching for a home to call my own. Heard the market was dead in The Springs, but deals are still hard to come by.

However, the situation could be worse - I could be looking for something affordable in Jerusalem. And tearing my hair out in the process - underneath a sheitel of course.

A depressed market and town, plus the whole "constant bombing threat", and prices are still over a million dollars for less than two thousand square feet.

I know, I know - it's the Promised Land. And there *are* more than five Heebs in that town. But they're the kind that would make me cover my legs. Who needs that?

More Schnapps, please.

I Was Robbed...

I tell ya.

Robbed.

h/t Dalia

Defend Our Courts!

Bush has once again nominated a judge with dubious credentials. In question is Leslie Southwick for the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals.

Please read here for detailed background information about this dildo.

Southwick's rulings and statements show that he is not committed to equal justice and has no place on the 5th circuit court.

Shocker. Otherwise why would Bush nominate him?

Please add your voices of concern or condemnation. This court is particularly critical as it is a federal appeals court. If we citizens cannot protect our courts from right-wing ideologues, we will have nowhere to turn for justice.

Let's stop this nomination in Committee before it goes on to the full Senate, so please call in. Senators Feinstein and Kohl in particular my be wavering. Can you take a moment to call them and ask that they vote against Southwick's confirmation?

Sen. Diane Feinstein (CA) (202) 224-3841
Sen. Herb Kohl (WI) (202) 224-5653

If you do call these two Senators, please notify Color of Change how your call went.

You can contact all the Senators in the Judiciary Committee here.

If you still have the time, please sign this letter.

I know. Stick a broom up your arse so you can sweep as you go along. All this, and dinner still gets served on time.

No one rocks harder than us.

Sometimes a Cartoon Says It Best

Come on, who can argue with the social commentary of a gem like Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Clearly Jessica represents an entitled upper class while Roger is the token illegal immigrant.

Oh yeah, baby. Watch it again.

Anyway, Union of Concerned Scientists is having a contest based on the Bush administration, all the ways they suck, and how much they have sought to ruin science and the advances scientists have made for the future of our planet.

Sounds like fun, no?

Visit their site and vote for the best Science Idol cartoon.

Here's my favorite:

Although this one is good, too.

Plenty of others; pick your own now.

Reform Road Show Hits the Springs

Earlier today, Speaker Romanoff (Cute. Jewish. So nice!) talked to a room full of 160 adults (plus two little boys) in The Springs about the Colorado State Constitution.

You heard me. 160 grown people and two kids gathered in a public library, in the middle of a workday, to talk about how laws are written. And no one mentioned Paris Hilton. Not even once. So color me impressed.

Sort of.

Our state constitution is huge compared to the US Constitution. Should we give more incentive to citizens to go the statutory route? Obviously, our state constitution should not be all things to all people. Or even all animals. I heard such an argument several years back in Florida about pregnant pigs. However, we must craft a solution that works.

Jenny Bowser from National Conference of State Legislatures (They're holding a conference in Boston. In August. Anyone wanna fly me out there and I'll be your own personal tour guide?) pointed out that Colorado requires fewer signatures per capita for constitutional initiatives and has no geographical district requirement. So if some hippie chick wants to protect the gays, she could collect necessary signatures in Boulder to get it on the ballot for the entire state.

Hmmm, makes me wanna party in Boulder.

Only two states see more constitutional initiatives than Colorado. Oregon and California.

Hmmm, makes me wanna party in California.

After presentations, the crowd broke off into small groups. I smiled at a few people from Drinking Liberally and was fairly surprised at the chilly reception back. Did I offend? Not a fan of the love toys? Seems they were friendlier last week with a beer in their hands.

Unfortunately, I could not join a small group and hear locals' ideas for statutory vs. constitutional initiatives.

Cause those two little boys in attendance had to pee-pee. And a mommy's gotta do what a mommy's gotta do.

What Inspires You?

Barack Obama's campaign has rejected the money-for-influence game and refused to accept funds from registered federal lobbyists and political action committees.

Cutting off the flow of easy Washington money means they have to work harder. Instead of relying on a handful of powerful interests, Obama's team must bring together hundreds of thousands of supporters, each owning an individual piece of their movement.

From here on out, your stories and your passion will determine Barack Obama's success. When you make a donation, they want you to share what inspired you to join their movement. For the rest of the week, those stories -- including your story -- will drive the results.

Although I still haven't decided which candidate I'll be voting for, I'm inspired by Obama's energy, enthusiasm and commitment to progressive ideals. I'm also excited about his chance at making history.

Plus he's hot and was nice to my kids. So there's always that.

Donate now and share your inspiration.

Wow, Is That "Working Class Hero" on Muzak?

Last time I went shopping with Becky, we were fifteen years old. She would search for hours, able to find the best deals and cutest clothes. That is, if you liked the Erasure look. I'd browse for fifteen minutes, give up, and meet her at Dunderbak's for Martinelli's Apple Cider.

Best. Drink. Ever.

Afterwards, I'd search high and low inside some consignment shop only to emerge, minutes later, with an outfit that would have gotten me kicked out of a Grateful Dead groupie convention. A trend that continued, unfortunately, even in college.

'Nuff said.

These days, Becky still can find great clothes. She just consults personal shoppers and looks through catalogs instead of sales bins. And years ago, I discovered an appreciation for clothes that actually fit.

So yesterday, Beck and I went shopping for the first time in over twenty years. Good times. All kinds of bonding over discount racks and taco salads.

• I admitted to using the same lipliner I had on my wedding day. Not the same *brand*, mind you. Same lipliner. Cause 1) my lips look fine without constant tweaking and 2) I can't throw away perfectly good lipliner. Even if it is eleven years old.


• Victoria's Secret Certified Technicians swear my bra size, once an unreasonable 32DD, is now a perkier, more manageable 32B. I didn't believe it either. Wait'll you see pictures.


• Found a black, form-fitting, Banana Republic suit, for that inevitable interview, on sale for $136.00. Impressed no one but myself and a woman with a Dick Cheney '08 pin on her over-starched lapel.


• File this under the category: Love. Cleaned up my best friend's breast milk after it flew out of her daughter's mouth onto the floor of a Mexican restaurant in front of half the town. Dick Cheney supporter almost lost her lunch. Literally.

Maybe living in Colorado isn't so bad after all.

Intel and Government Screwing the People

It's been a long time since companies gave a rat's ass about their employees. So this is just more of the same - Intel is shoving 800 people out of work in Colorado Springs - no doubt to make more money paying people less in Taiwan.

Shame on them.

And they want the government to help.

The federal help would have included up to $1,250 for travel as part of a
job search, $1,250 in moving expenses and up to two years in pay if workers are
enrolled in a retraining program as well as employment counseling and workshops
on résumé writing and interviewing.

Shame on them again.

The government turned down Intel's request. There are good reasons for such a denial; however, we, as a society, benefit from an educated and productive work force. Those of you who don't believe our government should be bailing out laid-off workers have a point. Still, most people would agree that our community will not continue to grow with over 800 unemployed citizens hanging around. Or leaving for greener pastures.

Foreclosed homes, less business, and fewer tax revenues will only hurt this community in the long run. Intel is to blame. But so are we if we don't help make it right.

For My Peeps Back Home

And so Brett won't kick me out of Blab anytime soon...

Hillsborough County's commissioners gave into developers again, voting to destroy protected wetlands. This time, voters swear they will hold these dirty politicians accountable.

I hope so, because that's the only way anything is going to change.

If you live in Tampa, please please please sign up for U-CAN. Protect your home's beauty and way of life before it's too late.

Constitutional Reform Road Show

Coming to Colorado Springs this Monday, June 25th

Colorado House Speaker Andrew Romanoff brings his " Constitutional Reform Road Show" to Colorado Springs this Monday with our state Representatives Bob Gardner (R) and Michael Merrifield (D), to engage the public in a long-overdue conversation about initiatives, referenda and the Colorado Constitution.

What: Town Hall Meeting on Constitutional Reform
When: Monday, June 25th 12:00 noon
Where: Carnegie Room
Penrose Library
20 N. Cascade

Speakers: House Speaker Andrew Romanoff
Rep. Bob Gardner (R)
Rep. Michael Merrifield (D)
Jennie Drage Bowser - Ntl Conf. of State Legislatures
John Weiss – Moderator

Bring a brown bag lunch or purchase one from Citizens Project at the door (first-come-first-served). Drinks will be provided.

Background: It is easier to qualify a constitutional initiative to the ballot in Colorado than in any other state. Our state Constitution has been amended 47 times since 1980. The US Constitution has been amended 27 times since 1789!

Key questions:
· How do we preserve direct access to the ballot?
· How do we avoid ambiguity in the Constitution?
· How can we run our state more effectively?

Questions? Renee Hartslief at 577-4545 or renee@csindy.com.

Sponsored by the Colorado Springs Economic Development Corporation, League of Women Voters of the Pikes Peak Region, Citizens Project, KRCC-FM and the Colorado Springs Independent .

Making Love to Yourself - No Longer The Safest Sex

I try to take care of myself.

Exercise every day, plenty of water and rest, good amount of flax seeds, granola, yogurt and fiber in my diet. Soy protein? Check. Local and organic fruits and veggies? Double check. And I stay away from things that are bad for me, like meat, trans fats and Fox News.

Normally, if I discover something is hazardous to my emotional/physical health, after careful research, the product or activity lands on my boycott list.

Until now. Cause a girl's gotta draw the line somewhere.

Apparently my vast collection of love toys (seriously, Jenna Jameson would be impressed) could cause...not sure exactly.

In an effort to make the materials softer and more lifelike, PVC plastics
suppliers incorporate one or more members of a family of compounds called phthalates (FAY-lates). To hear some environmentalists
tell it, using a vibrator that includes phthalates is akin to bathing in DDT.

I'm beyond disappointed.

Granted, there are some companies out there making safe and environmentally friendly love toys. (Big fan!) But even they recommend using condoms to ensure good health when dildo-ing.

Umm, part of the fun of f*cking alone is not worrying about disease or pregnancy. And no commandments are being broken, which is always nice. Explore and enjoy, that's my motto. Now some goddamn treehuggers are taking the fun out of my favorite hobby, too.

And do you know how expensive it is to replace a closet full of toys for new ones made of silicone? More than a teacher's salary, I can tell you.

When I told Becky the bad news, she shrugged and said, "It'd only hurt your health if you do it a lot."

I whistled and stared at the ceiling. I'm in all kinds of trouble.

Oh well, gotta die of something I suppose.

h/t Sheila

I Am A Boston Red Sox Fan

This is possible despite the fact I'm not a baseball fan.

This is possible because I lived in Boston and the city became a part of me. Walked the streets for four years and breathed in its politics, people, history, culture, and yes, sports teams.

Have you ever been to Boston? Walked the freedom trail, sat in the Commons, drank a pint at The Green Dragon, haggled for goods at Haymarket, walked around the Charles? The city is alive and exciting and sucks you in for life.

Kinda like me.

Which brings us to Fenway Park. Home of my beloved Red Sox. It ain't a church, but the grounds are sacred.

I've sat behind home plate and smelled hot dogs and heard cheers and root-root-rooted for the home team. For at least an inning, I mean, come on, I got a life to live.

Back in the day, FDR tossed some words around that field. Legends redefined America's favorite pasttime. And a few heavyweights like Bruce Springsteen and Ray Charles made music there as well.

Lately, though, I'm beginning to think the place has gone downhill. First Fever Pitch and now this?

Heartbroken. Simply heartbroken.

Is Everybody Here Bananas?

Best part of this story about a woman (and husband) who didn't realize she was pregnant until a few hours before giving birth was this gem:

Not only did friends and family not notice Sarah Terry was pregnant, the
fact even escaped a doctor. Sarah Terry had an annual exam in March, and the
possibility of pregnancy wasn’t mentioned, she said. She also had a mammogram in
April.

Great. A community-wide case of cluelessness.

Next up - local rape victim experienced multiple orgasms during said attack. Almost spit out soy milk reading:

“There was no force, no weapons — he just tied a slip around her head.”

Fantastic.

For years I've tried to explain that such an event takes foreplay, Astroglide and alcohol. Dude comes along with a slip and an attitude and blows my theory all to hell.

I hate this town.

Choices

Hillsborough County is a giant school district in Tampa with over a hundred elementary schools, not to mention all the middle, high, charter and alternative centers.

The Springs does education differently. There are half a dozen districts, each with its own unique style, strengths and weaknesses. Wealthier districts benefit from smart kids and involved parents. At the same time, administrators see too many kids wind up with expensive drug habits and struggle to keep dealers out of the schools. Poorer districts want to improve truancy and drop-out rates while not forgetting the kids who need more than anything to succeed and end the cycle of poverty. IB programs as well as gifted academies entice the best and the brightest plus there's always the alternative centers who promise not to give up on kids who need a second chance.

Still not sure where I'll be doing my thing. However, I'm encouraged by all the choices.

Last night at the DL event, I met Jan Tanner, who's running as a candidate for School District 11 Board of Education. She's having a wine and cheese party this Friday from 5:30-7:30pm. I can't make it, Shabbat and all, but I encourage all two of my CS readers to help her get the ball rolling.

Learn more about this and other events here.

Ummm, Catherine or Katie. Whichever You Prefer.

I walked into The Coffee Exchange last night and no one knew my name.

After twenty-six years in Tampa (not counting four spent in Boston), I'm not used to such an experience. Back home - Dade City to Bayshore and everywhere in between - I always run into an old classmate, colleague or club buddy. If the party is a political event, someone in attendance has read my site or newspaper articles.

And at least one guy at the bar has f*cked a friend of mine.

"Hey, you're Judy's girl! How is she?"
"I'm not sure, it's been a long time -"
"She was hot. You - you look good. Now that your hair is growing down instead of out."

Sadly, such familiarity is a thing of the past. I will never run into someone who remembers when I bleached my hair or how I campaigned for Dukakis or that time I walked through the mall with my underwear showing.

I'm a stranger now.

So, at my first Drinking Liberally event as a permanent Colorado resident, I ordered a wheat ale, filled out my name tag and mingled.

Everyone was nice and supportive and encouraging. I did my best to make a good impression, stressing that I would like to be involved in my new community and make a difference here. I talked about education, the environment, and parenting.

Not many bloggers in this neck of the woods so perhaps I'll fill a need.

That is, if my new neighbors can get past what my mother refers to as, *unladylike expressions from someone who knows better*.

Oh, f*ck it. I'm a mother and an activist and a teacher and unladylike expressions are what I do. Unladylike expressions and love toys.

So here I am, folks. It's nice to meet you.

Wild West, I Bearly Knew Ya.

I smiled and joked about signs warning residents of "bear sightings."

Then the other night, while we were all watching Casablanca, Becky says, all excited, "There's a bear on our porch!"

We scurry to the window and, sure enough, an adorable little cub is prowling around. I mumble,

"Where's Mama?"

Few seconds later, Mama arrives.

Adorable. And my kids can get used to playing inside. For the rest of their lives.

Yesterday I read about another encounter with a bear, this one deadly.

Now I'm pissed.

Look, I've never been a camper. Even at fifteen, I refused to take part in such an unnatural act. If God had meant for us to sleep outside, He never would have created the Hyatt.

Still. After all this bear shit, I want on the first flight back to civilization. Like now.

Fist in the Air in the Land of Hypocrisy

Are you supporting Rudy Giuliani for President? If so, you're f*cking high.

Did Giuliani know the air at the World Trade Center was poison? Who knows -- but
we do know he took over the cleanup, refusing to let more experienced federal
agencies run the show. He stood on a few brick piles on the day of the bombing,
then spent the next ten months making damn sure everyone worked the night shift
on-site while he bonked his mistress and negotiated his gazillion-dollar move to
the private sector. Meanwhile, the people who actually cleaned up the rubble got
used to checking their stool for blood every morning.

So get your head out of your ass and read this article.

Thanks for playing.

"That thing could put an eye out."

My kids are asking lots of questions about body parts lately.

You may think this has something to do with their age and curious nature. Or perhaps my previous incarnation as a nudist-colony-frequenting-hippie-chick is in their genes.

Not so much.

I'm blaming my best friend.

Every time we turn around she's breastfeeding her daughter.

Plus there's all the suggestive art.

"Check out her butt!"



"Look, Mommy. She's pretty."

"Mommy, I have a question...

what's that about?"

Good Lord.

Men That Matter Most On Father's Day (Revisited)

I wrote this back in 2005, yet the sentiment remains...

Near or Far
Technically, he’s my stepfather. Ron met my mother a few months after my nineteenth birthday. By then, I had learned men could not be trusted. Too easily they’d leave without looking back, indulge in alcoholic binges, steal money from relatives and leave a family impoverished and alone.

My mother warned Ron I was difficult at times. She often had to explain her oldest daughter’s caustic humor. I swayed between cold and hostile, immune to charm or personality. My smile felt empty, promising nothing. His smile seemed warm, welcoming, and I immediately became suspicious. Who was this guy? I politely shook his hand, silently giving him a month at best.

I had no way of knowing a gift had just been given and, thankfully, with no return receipt. I had no way of knowing Ron would love my family unconditionally, talk us back from near disasters and encourage us to try again. I had no way of knowing he’d listen to anti-military tirades, then patiently explain two tours of duty in Vietnam, leaving me with a new found respect for our country’s soldiers – and for him. I had no way of knowing he would cheer loudest the day I graduated from college and beam brightest while walking me down the aisle on my wedding day.

I had no way of knowing years later he would love my children with all his heart, building a dock out back to teach them the ways of the world while feeding ducks and fish. I had no way of knowing he would challenge so many beliefs and leave me forever changed – year after year after year.

He came into our family, but we are the ones who joined him. Ron didn’t mind my brother’s distance, sister’s trepidation, or my own endless supply of doubt. He knew he’d win us over eventually. Despite carnivorous eating, NASCAR and right-wing voting habits, I couldn’t resist him. Deep down, every daughter needs a dad. No matter how self-sufficient we appear, the more love we have, the better we do. He has proven real fathers can be counted on for the long haul – year after year after year.

Technically, he’s my stepfather, but that’s not how I think of him. In every way that matters, he is most certainly my dad.

Disclaimer
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the father-in-law, off enjoying poker or porn since his acerbic "wit" has been missing from my comments sections. Thank God for small favors.

Rise Up, Rise Up
I keep blinds and shutters closed, lights off for most of the day. I get this habit from my mother. Nana used to call her “Mrs. Mole” so I guess that makes me “Ms. Mole”. In my defense, light finds its way. Besides, a semi-dark house is a cool house. When the weather outside is frightful (97 degrees and getting hotter) a cool house is also a happy house.

When my husband comes home, he always turns the lights on. Always.

Know what he does first, though? He pulls in the driveway and waits a second for our children to open the door and dance to music coming from his car. Then they run, laughing and ignoring my attempt at sternness (“Walking feet!”) to hide somewhere.

“Pretend I’m in Hawaii, Mommy!” my youngest whispers.

“Pretend I’m in California!” my oldest whispers a second later from another location.

That’s when The Man comes inside and hits the light. In my best Donna Reed impersonation, dressed in sweats instead of a skirt, I give kisses and ask about his day.

“Where are my boys?” he asks loud enough to make them giggle and then takes his time looking around. Making the fun last and last for all of us.

The boys are learning many things from their father. They learn laughter diffuses anger from imitating daddy’s funny faces; self-confidence and good sportsmanship from hockey games out back; numbers from “New World Record” where daddy throws the ball and counts how many times they catch without dropping. They’ve learned to change their voices for different characters during story time, the importance of family, and how to shake hands with grownups. The other day, our kids took turns opening the door first and it occurred to me: they’re learning how to be good men.

In so many ways, my husband shines a light on our lives and brightens up the place. My world would be too dark without him.

Happy Father’s Day.

What are the origins of the word: meme? Help me out if you're so inclined.

Anyway, I got one and will run with it. Here goes.

The Rules:

• Post the rules, then list 8 things about yourself.


• At the end of the post, tag and link to 8 other people.


• Leave a comment at those sites, letting them know they’ve been tagged, and asking them to come read the post so they know what to do.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT ME

1. My tummy troubles are back. After a week or so in The Springs, dealing with house-hunting issues and Lego problems, maybe another hospital visit and near-death experience is just what I need.

2. Moved around a lot as a kid, but Nana stayed in the same house. Though, looking back, the street was too busy, I loved that house and neighborhood, with each home just a hop, skip, and a jump from the next one. Summer vacations were fun. Barely in my teens, I'd go into the back bedroom and talk to Chris King, who lived next door, through his open window. Chris was hot. From the middle bedroom, which faced the other side, I could watch "Friday Night Videos" on Maria's television next door because she faced it toward me. Even though I was supposed to be asleep. Good times. And that's why I'm looking at homes in close-knit neighborhoods. So back the f*ck off.

3. My teeth don't overlap when I smile, like normal people. They meet. Dentist says I have a strong Irish jaw. So let's see: temper, inability to tan, temper, crazy jawline, and temper. All due to my Irish heritage. Then again, there is my taste for Guinness and middle-class neighborhoods. So it all evens out.

4. I know every word to I Am Woman. Used to stage concerts for my siblings when I was twelve and always included that song. Brother even has it on tape somewhere.

5. Speaking of performances, in high school I sang Dance Ten, Looks Three for competition and didn't censor the "tits and ass" part. Got into a bit of trouble with the drama teacher, who was insane anyway. Later that year, I ran for President of Thespians and she canceled the election. Picked the officers herself and left me off the list. So I quit the club and tried to get others out as well. A radical was born.

6. I'm vegetarian, but my mouth still waters for liver and bacon, Big Macs and chili cheese dogs. Especially if I'm hungry.

7. Until two days ago, I didn't know what a "yeti" was. And now I do. So there's that.

8. I'm the only woman in North America who doesn't think George Clooney is hot. Not even a little bit.

I'm, by nature, a rule breaker and will not, therefore, link to anyone else. However, if you so choose to tell me 8 things about yourself, feel free in comments or emails. I love to learn about you crazy cats.

h/t QuakerJono

A Bad Sign?

After a year of doing the back-n-forth routine between Tampa and The Springs, husband and I are now living under the same roof again. Back to normal.

Or are we?

Woke up this morning and discovered the man and our children playing this... game? I suppose it's a game. But I ain't the winner.

They lauged and laughed. This was *fun* for them. So I suppose it is normal.

Oh well. At least they picked a good picture.

The Growing Power of "Jesus Freaks" In The US Military

From the best radio station in Tampa:

Ten thousand cadets and staff at the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado, open up their federally-funded newspaper and see an a solicitation signed by hundreds of Academy senior officials and their spouses unabashedly proclaiming, “We believe that the only real hope for mankind is Jesus Christ!” Cadets are bombarded with official command “encouragement” to see the movie The Passion of the Christ at local movie theatres, and stridently sectarian fliers are strategically placed at every cadet’s seat for three straight days in the Academy dining hall. The Air Force Deputy Chief of Chaplains tells a New York Times Reporter, in a front page story, that it is now official U.S, Air Force policy to “Reserve the right to evangelize the un-churched.”

Learn more here.

h/t Stogie

Help ProgressNow Set Its Course

It's no secret that Colorado Springs scares me. Little bit.

However, knowing that such a great organization like ProgressNow exists helps me to feel more at home.

Take a moment and help direct future efforts.

This area needs you.

Cruelty isn't Entertaining

Please keep in mind when planning family outings this summer, whether in Florida or around the country,

swimming with dolphins

AND

watching whales, who are used to swimming thousands of miles every day, circle a tiny pool and jump/do tricks so they can eat...

is cruel.

Your kids deserve better. And so do our animals.

Colorado Springs Is The Squarest and Whitest Town in North America

Or damn close.

Even Best Friend Becky, when asked her favorite rapper, thinks for a minute and says, "Will Smith is talented."

Christ. What have I gotten myself into?

Anyway, I should have received my Florida tags by now. At least according to the temporary tag, on the back of my recently purchased vehicle, which expired yesterday.

My sweet seven year-old took notice and remarked, "Mom, after today, you're ridin' dirty. So just you know."

Well, now.

The Springs is still white. But it just got a little bit hipper.

Scary, Scarier, Scariest

If you were looking for a home, which neighborhood oddity would frighten you most?

This.



That.



Or the other thing.

07.07.07

At 7pm, MoveOn.org is going to bring Al Gore's global Live Earth concerts to our own communities. We'll hear from Al Gore and the presidential candidates, and then enjoy great music.

Can you volunteer your living room for a Party for the Planet in Colorado Springs?

Come on. I'll bring the Guinness.

"It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Starts Spittin' Chiclets."

My seven year-old sons were playing yesterday when suddenly the collective mood took a turn. Words were exchanged, attitudes reached unreasonable levels, and then Youngest clocked Oldest in the mouth. Good times. I constantly threaten to knock a tooth loose and so I shouldn't be surprised when one of my kids actually does it.

In addition to a lengthy time out (no, I do not hit my children to show hitting isn't right), the child was made to write five non-violent ways to resolve conflict. I make my *students* write twenty-five and then discuss Beastie Boys lyrics. Kid got off easy.

This is the list Youngest wrote down:


Let me translate before you hurt yourself.

1) Use words.
2) Tell Mom.
3) Say stop!!!
4) Use inside voice.
5) Ignore him.

Now the trick, I explained, is to actually use one of these solutions the next time a problem arises.

I know. We'll see.

I'm One of Your Newest Constituents

The Senate is about to vote on a big bill dealing with energy and the climate crisis. Massive subsidies for coal were defeated in committee. But we're not out of the woods yet, since one of the coal-friendly senators could sneak them back in again as an amendment just before the final vote.

Can you call your senators today to tell them to vote against liquid coal if it's added to the bill at the last minute?

Senator Ken Salazar

Phone: 202-224-5852

Senator Wayne Allard

Phone: 202-224-5941

Getting to Know You

There seems to be a well-organized Drinking Liberally crew here in The Springs. Back home the meetings were always in Brandon and living in Wesley Chapel was enough of a drive. Attended one meeting here last summer and was impressed with the crowd (20-30 political types of all ages) and the reps that were there to schmooze.

I'll be joining Drinking Liberally next week to search for fellow progressives.

The ACLU is having a teach-in tonight that I might attend at Colorado College. That could be cool.

And there's this:

Democrats Club Meeting
Thursday, June 21, 2007, 6:00 - 8:00 pm
Bambino's Restaurant (SE corner of Circle & Platte)
Dinner for adults: $10.00 all you can eat pizza and salad
Children under 12: $6.00
Agenda:
State Representative Mike Merrifield
Bob Powell, Ph.D., MBA, on Universal Health Insurance, TABOR

Abortion and Other Related Topics

Expanding on yesterday's post...

A few weeks ago, my youngest sister asked me if I was pro-life. Barely in her twenties, she must not remember my stint in a women's health clinic or my trip to DC marching for women's rights or the many times I ruined family dinners with "We Won't Go Back" speeches.

Kid got off easy.

Nowadays I'm not nearly as militant. So I just sort of half-smiled and said I was pro-choice.

She told me about a book she read, written by a pastor, that described late-term abortions and how awful it was and how she cried hysterically after reading about such awful procedures.

Me: (gently) I side with Clinton and think that they should be restricted except in cases where the mother's health is at risk.
Little Sister: The mother's health is never at risk.
Mom chimes in: Never. That whole exception is a lie.
I took a deep breath and said, quietly: I understand. However, when scientists and doctors take a stance on anything, whether it's abortion, stem cell research, global warming, etc. and politicians or religious leaders take the opposite stance - I'm almost always going to side with scientists.

Mom went about her business, ignoring the conversation. That's how *she* rolls.

Little Sister: How can you want to protect animals and not babies? Do you know what goes on at these clinics?
Me: Sure I do. (Deep breath) Honey, I worked at a clinic for two years. Don't you remember?
LS: No.
Me: I held hundreds of women's hands as they went through the toughest decision of their lives. I'm well aware of what goes on.

(awkward pause)

Me: You must have blocked it out. Listen, you raise some valid concerns. However, keep in mind that book was written by a pastor. Not a physician. I wouldn't be against certain restrictions after the first trimester. But before that, abortion must remain safe and legal.

This is where Little Sister's husband joined us. Yes, husband. Long story.

Bro in Law: I don't think he was pushing to make it illegal. He just wonders how women who've had abortions can still call themselves Christian.
Me: Okay...I'm not a Christian and I've never had an abortion. However, I think anyone who believes Jesus is their Savior is a Christian. Period. They're in the club. And the rest is sort of up for discussion. I mean, we get into trouble when we say "You believe this way and so you're not a Christian" or "You disagree with me so you're not really one of us." Know what I mean? We should be bringing more people to God. Not pushing them away. Right?
Bro in Law: Absolutely.

Little Sister just stared.

Me: You still love me though.
LS: You're right. I do.

We both smiled. It was at this point in our conversation that Mom told us to stop talking about religion or abortion and Dad said not to talk about politics either.

Buzz killers.

A shame, really, and here's why: Our conversation was civil. Cordial. Friendly even. No voices were raised and no one cried or got angry. Granted, no minds were changed. However, we heard each other. And when my sister and her husband go to a gathering where someone says pro-choice women are lesbians out to kill men or witches or baby killers - they will stop and think of me and know that's not true.

I represent my side very well. A bridge builder, that's me.

And so, while I'm not sure what Colorado Springs has in store for me yet, while I'm not sure what this area will teach me - I am quite sure that I will be good for the Focus folks and New Life zealots. I will show many people that a liberal, vegetarian Jew is a delight to have around and not the angry, ugly, fake-blood throwing, Christ killer they've been hearing about all their lives.

There goes the neighborhood.

Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid. Or Not.

House hunting in The Springs.

Not sure which is worse: wild animals and trophy wives in the Southwest part of town or Jesus freaks and chain restaurants in the North. There are liberals and Jews in the South - four or five anyway. But the North has affordable homes and kids are actually seen playing outside with other kids.

Yes, driving by Focus on the Family scared the piss out of me.

Realtor: They have a great play area for kids.
Kate: I'm sure they do.

Then it occurred to me: Living around and socializing with people who think differently has been good for me. Very good for me.

Besides, I've seen what happens to those who only surround themselves with like-minded companions. The resulting judgmental and close-minded attitudes disturb me more than Jesus freaks. I don't want to become one of *them*.

Let me explain.

I used to think:

- Toby Keith fans were rabid pigs.

- all liberals were open-minded and considerate.

- people who listened to country music and voted Republican were part of the problem.

- those who waved Confederate flags were racist rednecks.

- pro-life, conservative Christians and I have nothing in common.

Now, after a few years in Florida, I know that:

- only Toby Keith is a rabid pig. His fans are fine.

- some liberals are mean and nasty and rotten.

- country music enthusiasts who vote Republican are some of the nicest people around, however misguided their politics might be.

- lots of rednecks are kind-hearted and help people who break down on the side of the road.

- pro-life, conservative Christians love this planet, children, and Borat as much as I do.

I wonder what Colorado will teach me?

Last Night's Thoughts

Colorado Springs is beautiful.

I love cold weather, but thirty-seven degrees in June is f*cking nonsense.

My children are laughing more, especially at dinner. So am I.

I know I only wanted a car that was safe and economical, but GPS is a godsend. Especially since I get lost driving down Dale Mabry Highway back in Tampa - and I lived there most of my life. So thanks for making sure it was included and thanks for making me learn how to use it.

I'm part of a team again. A great team. A winning team.

I still cry because I'm so far away.

Found a woman who does a mean facial. When I asked for a Brazilian wax, she said she's only done a few of them and would I mind being her model and by the way it's free. I love this woman.

My sister and I did lunch and I got to hold my nephew. He will know me and I will know him and that counts for something.

A ready-made group of friends are warm and welcoming. Even the smartasses seem happy to have me. And a few swear they will convince me to go camping. Not a chance. But I like that they try.

My best friend and I are sharing a house with two men, three little boys and a baby girl. Oh, and a dog. And one kitchen. And we still love each other. So that, too, counts for something.

I still cry because I'm so far away.

Every. Single. Night.

Let's Cut $1 A Gallon From Our Gas Bills

A package of energy and climate proposals is going before Congress in the next few weeks. These proposals will offer significant savings on the cost of gasoline and electricity, as well as reduce America’s global warming pollution.

Tell Congress they must reduce our dependence on oil and other polluting fossil fuels by increasing fuel economy, energy efficiency, and our use of clean, renewable energy.

Let's contact our legislators and urge them to protect American families by resolving our energy problems and reducing global warming pollution today.

Forget Those $2000 Per Plate Fundraisers

If you make a donation in any amount between now and 11:59 pm EDT on Wednesday, June 13, you could join Barack Obama and three other supporters for an intimate dinner for five.

Five bucks to a worthy cause and you might meet the man himself.

Not a bad deal at all.

Don't Put the Hybrids in Reverse

Apparently Congress could vote to double the amount of greenhouse gases we produce by awarding subsidies and tax breaks for coal companies.

Sign here to say no to such a backward thinking idea.

Teachers With Tats

Before my children were born, I worked in Boston as a corporate trainer and technical writer. Made great money and loved being around assertive, ambitious smarty-pants who are now running the company.

Standards existed in this company; we were professionals. I was once spoken to for not wearing pantyhose. No one wore visible tattoos, unusual piercings, wacky hairstyles or revealing clothes. At least not during work hours. At night, throwing down beers in Back Bay? Different story.

I approved of the duality. Working with others who dressed properly, used grown-up words and were paid well for it made me feel valued and fortunate. We worked hard and the desire to succeed showed in the way we looked and carried ourselves.

Gave up the corporate world to have kids and decided teaching was more to my family-friendly liking.

Teaching is a different bag from the aforementioned corporate scene. Educators, as a whole, are more emotional than professional and they don't dress or work like they want to run the show one day. However, some school boards, at the very least, want them to *appear* more professional.

I do believe the idea has merit; however, school board members have it backward. If they want to attract college graduates who are sharp - both in the way they think and dress - pay them a competitive salary with good benefits.

Then you'd have more to choose from and teachers with tats wouldn't be much of an issue.

h/t Gar

URGENT! NO on HR 811 and NO on HR 2360

From Colorado Progressives...

PLEASE send a letter demanding that the Holt Bill HR811 not be fast-tracked and certainly NOT the Ehler Bill HR 2360 and that an open and thorough public debate be conducted, with the input from election integrity citizen advocates.

Demand that any election integrity bill give ultimate election oversight to CITIZEN groups, NOT to government groups.

CALL your Congressman to Vote against the Holt Bill HR811 AND against Ehler's Bill HR 2360. Ask for him/her at (202) 224-3121.

Don't know his/her name? Shame on you. Get it together.

And get involved.

Holy Sh*t

The only thing to see from Oklahoma City to Colorado Springs is the largest crucifix in the Western Hemisphere.


So there's that.

Laugh Riot Tour Continues - Next Stop, Oklahoma City

The goal of Road Trip '07 is to avoid the route we took during Road Trip '06 - twice. See more of America. Get to know the country. And so on. And so forth.

Boy, Oklahoma City is a bit of a downer. And a bit of a triumph.

We couldn't travel this way and *not* pay our respects. So we stopped by the site of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building and walked the grounds in awed silence. Even our children were amazed at the splendor of the place.

Two giant stone gates stand at either entrance, connected by a reflecting pool. One gate reads 9:01 and the other 9:03. The brochure explains that the earlier time represents innocence (the bomb went off at 9:02 that morning) and two minutes later Oklahoma City, and the country, changed forever.

Chairs, both large and small, sit on the site of the actual building and represent each adult and child killed. They are placed in rows corresponding with the floor in which victims were working, visiting, or, in the case of the children, playing.

My family and I visited the museum as well without lingering or reading descriptions. Didn't want to scare the boys. Instead, we walked through depictions of life that morning and how peace shattered along with windows and concrete when the building was blown apart. We glanced at video footage of everyday heroes responding to the tragedy and heard testimony from friends and families who still miss their loved ones lost to militant nonsense. Wasn't really interested in the investigation and apprehension of the bad guys. Took our time through the final exhibit outlining the hope that everyone who walks away from the museum knows the impact of violence.

My children were shielded from most of the horror and didn't quite understand our rudimentary definition of terrorism. Hopefully, they learned that guns and bombs hurt people and, therefore, should not be used even in make-believe games. And they learned that Americans help each other. This was illustrated best by the hats from firefighters who rushed to Oklahoma from all over.

"Look, Mommy, they came from Boston. And Jacksonville. And Michigan!"

"They even came from California to help!"

"I know," I said, smiling. "Isn't this a great country?"

Afterwards, as we made our way to the car, I looked at Husband and said, "New Orleans. Oklahoma City. What's next? How about a Holocaust Memorial. Or where Gacy buried his victims."

"Look kids," Husband added, "the birthplace of tuberculosis!"

And the tour goes on...

The Cultural Capital of the South - Still

Hopefully these pictures convey a bit of what I saw in New Orleans.

The good...





The bad...







And the ugly.


I know. The ugly ain't so ugly. But the bad is still really bad.

Perspective

Money lost when selling home in a depressed real estate market. - $110,000.00

Purchasing vehicles that won't get stuck in the snow. - $70,000.00

Hearing Oldest say, "I'm so glad we're a family again." - Priceless.

Not So Big, Not So Easy

We're hanging out in New Orleans for a day or two. Cause nothing says vacation like, "Look guys, see that devastated neighborhood? President Bush blows."

Good times.

Been here before, back in '93 when Husband and I were simply Boyfriend/Girlfriend looking to experience Mardi Gras with five of our closest friends.

I remember it well...

Took one look around the French Quarter and immediately decided all the women were nuts. Including some of my friends. They competed with each other to see who could flash the most frat boys. Then the frat boys would give them beads. Cheap-ass, nasty, beer-soaked beads.

I wanted *nothing at all* to do with those goddamn beads.

Didn't have a problem showing the girls once or twice. However, I did not want to be compensated with anything "Made in China". I flashed a few people who asked politely, one guy in a wheelchair was especially nice. After that, I walked around proudly, the only girl in town with ample ta-tas yet nothing green and purple around my neck to show for it. Except that lovely crystal necklace I brought from home.

This visit is a bit different.

Not quite as crowded, there are still drunken buffoons stumbling down Bourbon Street and women with no self-esteem ready to satisfy their every whim. And the jazz bands will always hit my heart with a beat that won't let go. However, now I must shield my sons' eyes from the girlie shows and avoid the after-7pm crowd. Just one beer this time and we rushed back to the hotel so my kids could swim before the Louisiana Skeeters come out to play.

There's also a sadness outside the town, despite billboards announcing, "We're Back!" and "Katrina Victims - Sue!"

More on that later.

The First Night's The Hardest

I clean. It's what I do.

Angry, happy, depressed or even excited - give me a mop, some earth-friendly disinfectant and watch me work my magic. People come into my home, take deep breaths, and immediately feel healthier. A touch of lemon in the air, or is it orange? They don't know. They just stretch out on my couch and smile.

It's a gift.

Which is why I almost went apesh*t yesterday when our buyers held up closing because they wanted $200 for a professional cleaner.

My *ass*. I'm better than a professional. I move furniture and get those hard to reach places. IN MY UNDERWEAR. So to suggest that somehow my work is inadequate...well...is akin to playing with fire.

We told these insulting clods to pound dirt and eventually they came to their senses. But not before I called all my neighbors and gossiped about our replacements - The Assholes. Welcome to Wesley Chapel!

Then we left. For good. Or at least until Thanksgiving when we'll be back to drink and alienate relatives who've just started to miss us. Can't wait.

Now I'm about to get sad and mushy so if that sort of thing makes you uncomfortable, f*ck off.

This first night has been rough for several reasons. I won't get into the alphabetized list, although mentally I can get up to "y" without pausing for a breath. Let me just say this, saying goodbye/starting over gets harder as I get older.

Stopped in Tallahassee and could hardly breathe. And no, it's not because we should be visiting Governor Jim Davis. Although...

Seriously, how can someone be happy and heartbroken at the same time?

We stayed at the Hilton Garden Inn and I watched my children swim in the pool after dinner, taking advantage of the warm evening air while we can. It's beautiful here. They're ready for our new adventure and so am I. I just keep looking back every once in a while hoping to see a familiar face. A face I love. A face I miss.

I'll probably do that a few more times before remembering to look forward and notice the beautiful mountains waiting for us. Just a few more times and then I'll stop.

Promise.