Blogger's Note: This is strictly commentary and threads of thought. It's me, thinking out loud.
Additive thinking can be very logical, superficially, seductive and misleading.
I learned this week of a friend's son who is facing legal consequences from his addictive behavior resulting from his drug use. I do believe addiction is a mental illness, but I start questioning the validity of the premise that an individual can be genetically predisposed to addiction.
Is it nurture or nature that produces addiction? Is it the chicken or the egg? Does our genetic predisposition produce low self-esteem? And, that low self-esteem permeates one's thinking and then the parenting skills (or lack of skills) perpetuate the legacy of poor self-esteem? After being told over and over again that you are "wrong" or "need" to do things differently. . .you believe it. Self fulfilling prophecies.
Addiction comes in so many forms: alcohol, drugs (legal and illegal), smoking, caffeine, sexual behavior, people, gambling; just the short list.
The behaviors are a defense to thinking and feeling pain. The pain manifests itself in the guise of self-destructive actions; passive suicide if you will. And misery, loves company. Peer pressure is nothing more than "misery recruitment".
Think about how young (and old) people fall to peer pressure. They are made to think that they are "less" if they don't join the crowd. The "crowd" uses the same negative reinforcement that has been used on them to "keep them in line"; the aim is to destruct the self-esteem; question worthiness; control; withhold love and attention. The same is true for physical abusers; the act of violence is their addiction. Peer pressure works best on an already damaged self image.
Guilt and shame lie at the core of addictive thinking. While they are akin, they are ever so different and require much different healing methods. Guilt results from action; shame results from what we are. Guilt can lead to corrective action; shame leads to resignation and despair.
Socially, we create addicts. We set expectations of achievement as a requirement instead of an aspiration. We judge those who do not "fit in" and often ostracize them. We tell them they should be "ashamed" for not marching to the same beat.
Intolerance. Judgement. Gossip. Blame. Perhaps if we could do away with this "addictive thinking," we could help "cure" addiction.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Lunch and Learn - The History of Tuna
For lunch today I made a tuna salad sandwich; to feed the craving I have been having for the last several days. Tuna fish sandwich on toast; made with chopped celery, onion, pepper and salt and mayonnaise. I am reminded of Lent and the Friday night meal of tomato soup and tuna sandwiches that my mother made. In addition to the tuna sandwich, her "tuna talents" included macaroni and tuna salad. That's it. No Salad Niciois; no tuna casseroles; no tuna melt or tuna bake; and I didn't have Ahi Tuna until many years later.
This sandwich got me thinking. . .who decided to make tuna a salad?
Canned tuna is a staple. An April 2009, survey commissioned by the National Fisheries Institute found that "four out of five. . .U.S. adults usually keep cans or pouches of tuna in the house at any given time. More than half of adults have a least three. . .and one in four usually keep five or more cans or pouches of tuna at home."
I started my "research" on the origins of the word "tuna". My friend Webster cites the word with an American origin somewhere between 1880-85; a variation of the Spanish word atun; derived from the Greek Thunnus; a genre of game fish. Tuna is a fish, so why do we call it "tuna fish" or "fish fish"? We don't refer to snapper as snapper fish or salmon as salmon fish. Is it so good we have to say it twice?
A survey of old cookbooks and menus confirms that meat and mayonnaise-type salads were popular in America from colonial times to present. These dishes were culinary traditions brought over by European, primarily German, settlers. The tuna salad is an early twentieth century recipe.
Canned tuna was first mass marketed in the U.S. in 1903. American cookbooks began to offer tuna as an alternative to chicken and turkey in salad recipes. I found the following recipe from Salads, Sandwiches and Chafing Dish Recipes, Marion H. Neil (1916):
Tuna fish salad
1 can of Tuna fish
shredded lettuce
salt and red pepper to taste
1 tablespoonful vinegar
2 tablespoonfuls lemon-juice
Mayonnaise dressing
1 tablespoonful capers
1 hard-cooked egg
2 or 3 stuffed olives.
Line a salad dish with shredded lettuce. Break the fish into pieces and place it on top of the lettuce. Mix the salt, red pepper, lemon-juice, and vinegar together and pour over the fish. Chill, and when ready to serve, decorate with the capers, slices of hard-cooked egg, and the stuffed olives. Service with mayonnaise dressing. Another method - Flake one can of Tuna fish with a silver fork, add one and one half cupful of diced celery and one half cupful of broken English walnut meats, mix with mayonnaise - or boiled dressing. Serve on crisp lettuce leaves."
The Christian Science Monitor, ran a story in February 1913, "Tuna Now Popular Fish Food":
"In California the tuna is being introduced generally in the best restaurants, no only because it is new, but because people are beginning to value it for what it is. Tuna salads are getting to be popular. The housekeeper can prepare the fish in a dozen different ways."
Now, hasn't this post brought a whole new meaning to "lunch and learn." Bon Appetite!
This sandwich got me thinking. . .who decided to make tuna a salad?
Canned tuna is a staple. An April 2009, survey commissioned by the National Fisheries Institute found that "four out of five. . .U.S. adults usually keep cans or pouches of tuna in the house at any given time. More than half of adults have a least three. . .and one in four usually keep five or more cans or pouches of tuna at home."
I started my "research" on the origins of the word "tuna". My friend Webster cites the word with an American origin somewhere between 1880-85; a variation of the Spanish word atun; derived from the Greek Thunnus; a genre of game fish. Tuna is a fish, so why do we call it "tuna fish" or "fish fish"? We don't refer to snapper as snapper fish or salmon as salmon fish. Is it so good we have to say it twice?
A survey of old cookbooks and menus confirms that meat and mayonnaise-type salads were popular in America from colonial times to present. These dishes were culinary traditions brought over by European, primarily German, settlers. The tuna salad is an early twentieth century recipe.
Canned tuna was first mass marketed in the U.S. in 1903. American cookbooks began to offer tuna as an alternative to chicken and turkey in salad recipes. I found the following recipe from Salads, Sandwiches and Chafing Dish Recipes, Marion H. Neil (1916):
Tuna fish salad
1 can of Tuna fish
shredded lettuce
salt and red pepper to taste
1 tablespoonful vinegar
2 tablespoonfuls lemon-juice
Mayonnaise dressing
1 tablespoonful capers
1 hard-cooked egg
2 or 3 stuffed olives.
Line a salad dish with shredded lettuce. Break the fish into pieces and place it on top of the lettuce. Mix the salt, red pepper, lemon-juice, and vinegar together and pour over the fish. Chill, and when ready to serve, decorate with the capers, slices of hard-cooked egg, and the stuffed olives. Service with mayonnaise dressing. Another method - Flake one can of Tuna fish with a silver fork, add one and one half cupful of diced celery and one half cupful of broken English walnut meats, mix with mayonnaise - or boiled dressing. Serve on crisp lettuce leaves."
The Christian Science Monitor, ran a story in February 1913, "Tuna Now Popular Fish Food":
"In California the tuna is being introduced generally in the best restaurants, no only because it is new, but because people are beginning to value it for what it is. Tuna salads are getting to be popular. The housekeeper can prepare the fish in a dozen different ways."
Now, hasn't this post brought a whole new meaning to "lunch and learn." Bon Appetite!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Herb & Dorothy, Art Collecting and Me
When you think of art collectors, you have images of the rich and famous; of people spending hundreds of thousands of dollars for paintings by well known artists. You think of the Rockefellers, Gettys and Mellons. Do you know about Dorthy and Herbert Vogel? They are my new heroes; art collectors of modest means.
In 2007, Sotheby's UK included the Vogels in their book, Great Collectors of Our Time: Art Collecting Since 1945; and placed them among the top art collectors in the world. The Vogels had amassed a collection of nearly 4,800 pieces of conceptual and minimalist art.
It's not the number of pieces in their collection that makes them so unusual; and to me it's not even the artists that they collected. Herb was a postal clerk and Dorothy, a librarian in the Brooklyn Public Library. In the early 1960's, this couple began collecting artwork guided by two rules: the piece had to be affordable and it had to be small enough to fit in their one-bedroom Manhattan apartment. Herb's salary was devoted to collecting and they lived off of Dorothy's paycheck.
In 1992, the pair decided to transfer the collection to the National Gallery of Art and later, in 2008, launched the Dorthy and Herbert Vogel Collection: Fifty Works for Fifty States (along with the National Gallery of Art, the National Endowment for the Arts and the Institute of Museum and Library Services). The program has donated 2,500 works to 50 institutions across 50 states. The Columbia Museum of Art, in South Carolina, is one of those lucky venues.
Art is one of my passions. I have always hesitated to refer to myself as a collector; having the image of the Rockefeller, et al, accompanying the definition of collector. Now, having been exposed to the Vogel collection and the story of Herb and Dorothy, I "admit" to being a collector.
Unlike the Vogels, I do not have any "rules" to my purchases (other than how much can I afford to spend). My selections are mood initiated. The piece ends up "speaking to me" and I take it home. There is a story behind every purchase. The local artists in the Columbia area are phenomenal. They continue to amaze and inspire me; and comfort me in the confines of my home.
One of my favorite artists, and now dear friend, is Bonnie Goldberg. Bonnie's work speaks to my femininity, strength and spirituality. These paintings to the left are "New Attitude", "Reflections of You", and "Ladies Night Out".
As I survey my "collection", I realize that most of the paintings and prints are that of women; women alone, women with children, women with pets, women with women and two pieces of a woman with a prince. Now that speaks volumes to me.
Local artist, Blue Sky, is probably best know for his depictions of the Columbia area, Lake Murray and South Carolina in general. Shortly after my brother died in 1998, I was in Blue's gallery looking for a gift for a friend that was moving out of town. I saw this print for the first time then. This woman, was fallen upon the rocks of the river's edge, in despair. A lump formed in my throat. This piece, to this day, chronicles my grief of the loss of Bob. It's not with sadness that I look upon it; I know my brother would have appreciated the emotion of the image.
Friends question just what emotions I was experiencing when I chose "Good Ole Gal" by Cecil Parsons. I think I just saw a happy, well-groomed old lady with her cat. I aspire to be a happy, well-groomed old lady with a cat.
I have been lucky enough to add to my collection works by Richard McDonald, Joann McDermott, Carol McGill, Howard Hunt, Vincent Suttles and, of course my grandparents, Christine Lange and Ferdinand Veit.
I am no Dorthy and Herb Vogel. . .I'm just a "wanna be". . .I have lots of work to do.
In 2007, Sotheby's UK included the Vogels in their book, Great Collectors of Our Time: Art Collecting Since 1945; and placed them among the top art collectors in the world. The Vogels had amassed a collection of nearly 4,800 pieces of conceptual and minimalist art.
It's not the number of pieces in their collection that makes them so unusual; and to me it's not even the artists that they collected. Herb was a postal clerk and Dorothy, a librarian in the Brooklyn Public Library. In the early 1960's, this couple began collecting artwork guided by two rules: the piece had to be affordable and it had to be small enough to fit in their one-bedroom Manhattan apartment. Herb's salary was devoted to collecting and they lived off of Dorothy's paycheck.
In 1992, the pair decided to transfer the collection to the National Gallery of Art and later, in 2008, launched the Dorthy and Herbert Vogel Collection: Fifty Works for Fifty States (along with the National Gallery of Art, the National Endowment for the Arts and the Institute of Museum and Library Services). The program has donated 2,500 works to 50 institutions across 50 states. The Columbia Museum of Art, in South Carolina, is one of those lucky venues.
Art is one of my passions. I have always hesitated to refer to myself as a collector; having the image of the Rockefeller, et al, accompanying the definition of collector. Now, having been exposed to the Vogel collection and the story of Herb and Dorothy, I "admit" to being a collector.
Unlike the Vogels, I do not have any "rules" to my purchases (other than how much can I afford to spend). My selections are mood initiated. The piece ends up "speaking to me" and I take it home. There is a story behind every purchase. The local artists in the Columbia area are phenomenal. They continue to amaze and inspire me; and comfort me in the confines of my home.
One of my favorite artists, and now dear friend, is Bonnie Goldberg. Bonnie's work speaks to my femininity, strength and spirituality. These paintings to the left are "New Attitude", "Reflections of You", and "Ladies Night Out".
As I survey my "collection", I realize that most of the paintings and prints are that of women; women alone, women with children, women with pets, women with women and two pieces of a woman with a prince. Now that speaks volumes to me.
Local artist, Blue Sky, is probably best know for his depictions of the Columbia area, Lake Murray and South Carolina in general. Shortly after my brother died in 1998, I was in Blue's gallery looking for a gift for a friend that was moving out of town. I saw this print for the first time then. This woman, was fallen upon the rocks of the river's edge, in despair. A lump formed in my throat. This piece, to this day, chronicles my grief of the loss of Bob. It's not with sadness that I look upon it; I know my brother would have appreciated the emotion of the image.
Friends question just what emotions I was experiencing when I chose "Good Ole Gal" by Cecil Parsons. I think I just saw a happy, well-groomed old lady with her cat. I aspire to be a happy, well-groomed old lady with a cat.
I have been lucky enough to add to my collection works by Richard McDonald, Joann McDermott, Carol McGill, Howard Hunt, Vincent Suttles and, of course my grandparents, Christine Lange and Ferdinand Veit.
I am no Dorthy and Herb Vogel. . .I'm just a "wanna be". . .I have lots of work to do.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
What If?
What if we really accepted all men and women as equals? What if we didn't discriminate between race, ethnicity, creed, gender or sexual orientation? What if the word "minority" didn't exist? What if?
Sadly, I fear we would create the divide anyway. We are genetically predisposed to create sides (at least I believe such). I reach this conclusion after many years of experience as "us" and as "them".
As a young woman, I was part of a club, whose members, somehow, were all blond and bright. We looked alike; with our long locks parted in the middle. We dressed similarly and sounded the same. But, there were some who chose to read romance novels while the "majority" read classic literature. The readers of romance novels were mocked. We found a "minority" within; however petty.
In business, after many years struggling to gain acceptance in the board room, I found myself choosing sides. Not a man-woman issue, but the issue between marketing and operations. It was a continuous, and often nasty, battle between two groups. We all worked for the same company; we all worked toward the same profit margin; yet we chose sides - us versus them.
It is always us versus them: Americans vs everyone else; men vs women; gay vs straight; Christians vs Jew; and, the list goes on.
I believe we get lost in the issue of majority and minority. We say the "majority rules", but it is in fact a "minority" that rules us - that handful of people in government and those giants of industry. They are not really part of the majority. It is our wish in life to be on the "winning" side - survival of the fittest. But, I suggest we can survive with tolerance and acceptance; a win-win equation.
If we survive together, will we not have more plentiful resources of experience, knowledge and culture? But that means opening oneself up to new ideas and embracing the differences. I can hear the mantra now, "but those people are different"; said with a disapproving tone.
We teach difference. We perpetuate difference. We mock difference.
What if we start teaching similarity and symbiosis and mutual interdependence? What if we stop being scared of what is different and embrace the beauty of "not alike"?
What if?
Sadly, I fear we would create the divide anyway. We are genetically predisposed to create sides (at least I believe such). I reach this conclusion after many years of experience as "us" and as "them".
As a young woman, I was part of a club, whose members, somehow, were all blond and bright. We looked alike; with our long locks parted in the middle. We dressed similarly and sounded the same. But, there were some who chose to read romance novels while the "majority" read classic literature. The readers of romance novels were mocked. We found a "minority" within; however petty.
In business, after many years struggling to gain acceptance in the board room, I found myself choosing sides. Not a man-woman issue, but the issue between marketing and operations. It was a continuous, and often nasty, battle between two groups. We all worked for the same company; we all worked toward the same profit margin; yet we chose sides - us versus them.
It is always us versus them: Americans vs everyone else; men vs women; gay vs straight; Christians vs Jew; and, the list goes on.
I believe we get lost in the issue of majority and minority. We say the "majority rules", but it is in fact a "minority" that rules us - that handful of people in government and those giants of industry. They are not really part of the majority. It is our wish in life to be on the "winning" side - survival of the fittest. But, I suggest we can survive with tolerance and acceptance; a win-win equation.
If we survive together, will we not have more plentiful resources of experience, knowledge and culture? But that means opening oneself up to new ideas and embracing the differences. I can hear the mantra now, "but those people are different"; said with a disapproving tone.
We teach difference. We perpetuate difference. We mock difference.
What if we start teaching similarity and symbiosis and mutual interdependence? What if we stop being scared of what is different and embrace the beauty of "not alike"?
What if?
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
California Gang Rape - Prosecute the Witnesses Too!
Every time I hear about this story I get sick to my stomach and my eyes begin to water. How does this happen?
Last week, a 15-year-old girl was brutally raped outside her homecoming dance. Richmond, California police believe as many as 20 people may have watched or participated in the vicious rape that lasted for more than two hours in a dimly lit corner of the high school campus. Watched; for two hours and took photos on their cell phones. The young woman, was repeatedly raped and beaten and her injuries were so severe that she had to be sent to the hospital in a helicopter. No one even called the police.
As of today, only seven suspects have been arrested in the "alleged" gang rape. I hate that word "alleged". It is not alleged; the young woman is hospitalized and traumatized. When she was found, after her father had repeatedly tried to contact her on her cell, she was semi-conscious and curled up under a lunch table on the grounds of the school.
Twenty witnesses and participants! Was this some sort of "mob behavior"? Not one of these young adults had the sense, or compassion, to see the atrocity of this event? Not one, had the courage to try to stop it or just call 911? No, they had their phones and began snapping photographs. Contra County prosecutors indicated that it would be "unlikely" that the witnesses would be charged with any crime unless they participated in the assault.
The high school administration is back stepping their responsibility of providing a "safe environment" for the students. They insist they did a sweep of the grounds following the dance; but admit that this particular corner of the campus was not searched. They commented that the dance itself was not marred by incident; a spokesman was quoted as saying, "the dance itself was a success in terms of safety." "This rape is an isolated incident". Isolated? Is this suppose to make the other parents and students feel better. It's a horrible incident.
The act of rape, alone, is tragic and will have lasting impact on this young woman. Being beaten will leave scars physically and emotionally. Being watched and not helped for nearly two and half hours? Will this young woman, and the community, ever feel safe and secure again?
We, as a culture, believe that if something "bad" happens, the cavalry will come and rescue us. The "cavalry" stood and watched. The nightmare of hearing the jeering crowd, smelling the alcohol and sweat of her attackers, hearing her own voice plead for it to stop, praying to God to rescue her. . .how can this poor girl not be haunted?
I pray for her physical recovery. I pray she will find a way to reconcile and forgive. I don't know if I could.
Last week, a 15-year-old girl was brutally raped outside her homecoming dance. Richmond, California police believe as many as 20 people may have watched or participated in the vicious rape that lasted for more than two hours in a dimly lit corner of the high school campus. Watched; for two hours and took photos on their cell phones. The young woman, was repeatedly raped and beaten and her injuries were so severe that she had to be sent to the hospital in a helicopter. No one even called the police.
As of today, only seven suspects have been arrested in the "alleged" gang rape. I hate that word "alleged". It is not alleged; the young woman is hospitalized and traumatized. When she was found, after her father had repeatedly tried to contact her on her cell, she was semi-conscious and curled up under a lunch table on the grounds of the school.
Twenty witnesses and participants! Was this some sort of "mob behavior"? Not one of these young adults had the sense, or compassion, to see the atrocity of this event? Not one, had the courage to try to stop it or just call 911? No, they had their phones and began snapping photographs. Contra County prosecutors indicated that it would be "unlikely" that the witnesses would be charged with any crime unless they participated in the assault.
The high school administration is back stepping their responsibility of providing a "safe environment" for the students. They insist they did a sweep of the grounds following the dance; but admit that this particular corner of the campus was not searched. They commented that the dance itself was not marred by incident; a spokesman was quoted as saying, "the dance itself was a success in terms of safety." "This rape is an isolated incident". Isolated? Is this suppose to make the other parents and students feel better. It's a horrible incident.
The act of rape, alone, is tragic and will have lasting impact on this young woman. Being beaten will leave scars physically and emotionally. Being watched and not helped for nearly two and half hours? Will this young woman, and the community, ever feel safe and secure again?
We, as a culture, believe that if something "bad" happens, the cavalry will come and rescue us. The "cavalry" stood and watched. The nightmare of hearing the jeering crowd, smelling the alcohol and sweat of her attackers, hearing her own voice plead for it to stop, praying to God to rescue her. . .how can this poor girl not be haunted?
I pray for her physical recovery. I pray she will find a way to reconcile and forgive. I don't know if I could.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Hurry up and Wait
My sister had to go for a stress test today. The process takes four to six hours; most of the time is spent sitting and waiting for the next phase of the procedure. So, I sit in the very small waiting area with others who wait.
The room is small; so small that I believe it has been designed to encourage you to wait elsewhere. There is a television and stacks of magazines, brochures and pamphlets. As is common in most public spaces these days, there are large dispensers of hand sanitizers on each of the end tables.
I brought a book to read and a notebook to jot down my random thoughts. I am concentrating on my "waiting paraphernalia" and avoiding eye contact. Waiting room conversations are often laced with entirely "too much information"; particularly in a medical facility.
I see others with their heads buried into their books or staring intently at the television monitor. I think to myself, "good, it will be quiet time." Despite my obvious signs of "do not disturb", one of the waiting women attempts to get my attention. It starts with, "that is such a lovely wrap you are wearing." I note that the woman next to me bows her head more closely to her book. "Thank you," I respond as I continue writing. She is talking to me from across the room; it is only a matter of time before she invites them all into a communal discussion. The fact that I appear busy with "something" does not distract from her mission to "share".
It is not that I dislike chatting and meeting people; it is that I dislike chatting in any sort of medical facility. The conversations will always get down to what ailment they are being treated for, what medications they are taking and eventually lead to bodily functions. Too much information!
There are laws that provide strict guidelines to protect individuals' medical privacy. Doctors and hospital must provide privacy policies and structure their physical locations to allow for "private" check-in and consultation. They do this and then this woman in the waiting room announces her mother's medical condition, medications and whether or not she had a good bowel movement this morning. So much for mother's privacy.
I attempt to move the conversation away from "medicine" and her mother. We talk about food. Food, perhaps, was not my best choice. I am now told of the effects certain vegetables have on her and her children (and apparently the family dog as well). I excuse myself to go into the restroom. It's nice and quiet in there, but I know I can't stay in there too long. I know she will ask me if I'm alright! She does anyway. "I'm fine," I respond quietly.
The nurse has come out to tell us that they are running almost an hour and a half behind schedule. My sister can now have some lunch. I grab my purse, my books and her arm and lead her to the door. I hear "are you going to the cafe downstairs?" I have to say "no". I am not in a pleasant mood today. I just can't converse politely. I turn and smile, "No, we're going to go back to the house for awhile."
She looked so disappointed. She starts to tell me that she would go home too but she finally got her husband to agree to pick up the kids and she wants him to do that and then maybe he will think about taking something out for dinner and feeding the dog and helping the kids with their homework, and....BREATHE LADY!
Bless her heart. Now that I'm back at the house for a while, I'm starting to feel guilty. I promise, when I get back to the waiting room, I'll engage in conversation.
The room is small; so small that I believe it has been designed to encourage you to wait elsewhere. There is a television and stacks of magazines, brochures and pamphlets. As is common in most public spaces these days, there are large dispensers of hand sanitizers on each of the end tables.
I brought a book to read and a notebook to jot down my random thoughts. I am concentrating on my "waiting paraphernalia" and avoiding eye contact. Waiting room conversations are often laced with entirely "too much information"; particularly in a medical facility.
I see others with their heads buried into their books or staring intently at the television monitor. I think to myself, "good, it will be quiet time." Despite my obvious signs of "do not disturb", one of the waiting women attempts to get my attention. It starts with, "that is such a lovely wrap you are wearing." I note that the woman next to me bows her head more closely to her book. "Thank you," I respond as I continue writing. She is talking to me from across the room; it is only a matter of time before she invites them all into a communal discussion. The fact that I appear busy with "something" does not distract from her mission to "share".
It is not that I dislike chatting and meeting people; it is that I dislike chatting in any sort of medical facility. The conversations will always get down to what ailment they are being treated for, what medications they are taking and eventually lead to bodily functions. Too much information!
There are laws that provide strict guidelines to protect individuals' medical privacy. Doctors and hospital must provide privacy policies and structure their physical locations to allow for "private" check-in and consultation. They do this and then this woman in the waiting room announces her mother's medical condition, medications and whether or not she had a good bowel movement this morning. So much for mother's privacy.
I attempt to move the conversation away from "medicine" and her mother. We talk about food. Food, perhaps, was not my best choice. I am now told of the effects certain vegetables have on her and her children (and apparently the family dog as well). I excuse myself to go into the restroom. It's nice and quiet in there, but I know I can't stay in there too long. I know she will ask me if I'm alright! She does anyway. "I'm fine," I respond quietly.
The nurse has come out to tell us that they are running almost an hour and a half behind schedule. My sister can now have some lunch. I grab my purse, my books and her arm and lead her to the door. I hear "are you going to the cafe downstairs?" I have to say "no". I am not in a pleasant mood today. I just can't converse politely. I turn and smile, "No, we're going to go back to the house for awhile."
She looked so disappointed. She starts to tell me that she would go home too but she finally got her husband to agree to pick up the kids and she wants him to do that and then maybe he will think about taking something out for dinner and feeding the dog and helping the kids with their homework, and....BREATHE LADY!
Bless her heart. Now that I'm back at the house for a while, I'm starting to feel guilty. I promise, when I get back to the waiting room, I'll engage in conversation.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Critics of South Carolina - BACK OFF!
Last week Boeing announced they will be building a facility in North Charleston to produce their new "dream" plane. This is a huge economic stimulus for the State of South Carolina. While the state legislature patted themselves on the back for accomplishing this coup, there have been critics questioning Boeing's choice of location.
"Unskilled and barely above minimum wage employees should not be building planes with hundreds of people on them. This is a life and death."
"This won't work. Neither will the overheated, abused, underpaid serfs of Boeing in South Kakalakie."
What does the rest of this nation think is going on here in the state of "smiling faces and beautiful places"?
OK, so we have an adulterous, stubborn Governor; we have Congressman Joe Wilson who has no manners and yells at the President; we have an assistant attorney general who was caught with a prostitute at the cemetery; there's the man who has been caught fornicating with his horse (not once, but twice); our public school system is in shambles; the state is ranked in the top ten for HIV/AIDS; and the Confederate flag stills flys on the grounds of the State House. It's not like we have Ron Blagoavich or Elliot Spitzer running things. Why are we getting such a bad rap? As the Elephant Man proclaimed, "we are not animals!"
I have been living in Columbia, South Carolina for over 20 years now. I have to admit that when I first moved here my opinion of the state in general was that it was "a little backward." With that said, I find there is a lot of "backward" thinking all over this land.
South Carolina is an integral part of the evolution of this country; many "firsts" happened here. Many outstanding Americans have come from South Carolina including writers, statesmen, soldiers, scientists and artists.
Most recently, Columbia, the state capital, was cited, by BusinessWeek, as having the 14th strongest metropolitan economy in the country. Columbia's ranking was driven by a three-legged economic stool of state government, a public university and a military base - Fort Jackson.
In September, U.S. News & World Report chose Columbia as one of the nation's ten best affordable places to retire. The capital city offers diversity of activities and access to needed services and amenities. One recent retiree in the article was quoted as saying, "We find the people are really genuine. They are very friendly and very helpful." Thank You.
The presence of the University of South Carolina adds to the availability of resources for the growing region. USC ranked 110 out of 1,400 schools in the nation, by U.S. News & World Report in the 2009 college rankings. The business school is touted as one of the best in the nation.
Historically, South Carolina is most commonly noted for it's bold secession from the Union and instigating the American Civil War. Yes, that's true, but what about these "firsts" (all occurred in South Carolina and were the first of their kind in the United States or the world):
- First European settlement - 1526 - by Spain near current day Georgetown;
- First American built ship to cross the Atlantic - 1563;
- First public library - 1700;
- First professional female artist - Henrietta Dering Johnston - 1707;
- First building constructed solely for use as a theater - 1736;
- First systematic, scientific recording of weather information - 1737;
- First public museum - 1773;
- First and oldest municipal Chamber of Commerce - 1773 - Charleston;
These are just a few of South Carolina's firsts ( www.sciway.net/facts/firsts.html ).
And while most people think of Vanna White, Leeza Gibbons and Hootie and the Blowfish as South Carolina's contribution to fame and celebrity, there are many more.
Writers such as Mary Chesnut, Pat Conroy, James Dickey, William Price Fox hail from "South Kakalakie". Astronauts Charles Bolden and Charles Duke; Revolutionary War heroes and Consititional framers Pierce Butler, William Henry Drayton, Thomas Howard, Richard Hutson, Henry Laurens, Thomas Sumter, the Rutledges and Francis Marion - The Swamp Fox.
South Carolina natives include civil rights leaders, a president, athletes, musicians and let's not forget the ever charming and powerful Stephen Colbert.
So, I say unto those critics of the state, back off! We got it going on here and what would the news cycle be without us?
"Unskilled and barely above minimum wage employees should not be building planes with hundreds of people on them. This is a life and death."
"This won't work. Neither will the overheated, abused, underpaid serfs of Boeing in South Kakalakie."
What does the rest of this nation think is going on here in the state of "smiling faces and beautiful places"?
OK, so we have an adulterous, stubborn Governor; we have Congressman Joe Wilson who has no manners and yells at the President; we have an assistant attorney general who was caught with a prostitute at the cemetery; there's the man who has been caught fornicating with his horse (not once, but twice); our public school system is in shambles; the state is ranked in the top ten for HIV/AIDS; and the Confederate flag stills flys on the grounds of the State House. It's not like we have Ron Blagoavich or Elliot Spitzer running things. Why are we getting such a bad rap? As the Elephant Man proclaimed, "we are not animals!"
I have been living in Columbia, South Carolina for over 20 years now. I have to admit that when I first moved here my opinion of the state in general was that it was "a little backward." With that said, I find there is a lot of "backward" thinking all over this land.
South Carolina is an integral part of the evolution of this country; many "firsts" happened here. Many outstanding Americans have come from South Carolina including writers, statesmen, soldiers, scientists and artists.
Most recently, Columbia, the state capital, was cited, by BusinessWeek, as having the 14th strongest metropolitan economy in the country. Columbia's ranking was driven by a three-legged economic stool of state government, a public university and a military base - Fort Jackson.
In September, U.S. News & World Report chose Columbia as one of the nation's ten best affordable places to retire. The capital city offers diversity of activities and access to needed services and amenities. One recent retiree in the article was quoted as saying, "We find the people are really genuine. They are very friendly and very helpful." Thank You.
The presence of the University of South Carolina adds to the availability of resources for the growing region. USC ranked 110 out of 1,400 schools in the nation, by U.S. News & World Report in the 2009 college rankings. The business school is touted as one of the best in the nation.
Historically, South Carolina is most commonly noted for it's bold secession from the Union and instigating the American Civil War. Yes, that's true, but what about these "firsts" (all occurred in South Carolina and were the first of their kind in the United States or the world):
- First European settlement - 1526 - by Spain near current day Georgetown;
- First American built ship to cross the Atlantic - 1563;
- First public library - 1700;
- First professional female artist - Henrietta Dering Johnston - 1707;
- First building constructed solely for use as a theater - 1736;
- First systematic, scientific recording of weather information - 1737;
- First public museum - 1773;
- First and oldest municipal Chamber of Commerce - 1773 - Charleston;
These are just a few of South Carolina's firsts ( www.sciway.net/facts/firsts.html ).
And while most people think of Vanna White, Leeza Gibbons and Hootie and the Blowfish as South Carolina's contribution to fame and celebrity, there are many more.
Writers such as Mary Chesnut, Pat Conroy, James Dickey, William Price Fox hail from "South Kakalakie". Astronauts Charles Bolden and Charles Duke; Revolutionary War heroes and Consititional framers Pierce Butler, William Henry Drayton, Thomas Howard, Richard Hutson, Henry Laurens, Thomas Sumter, the Rutledges and Francis Marion - The Swamp Fox.
South Carolina natives include civil rights leaders, a president, athletes, musicians and let's not forget the ever charming and powerful Stephen Colbert.
So, I say unto those critics of the state, back off! We got it going on here and what would the news cycle be without us?
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