I was reminded last night, yet again, why I married the right girl (I talk as if there were a multitude waiting in the wings in a Bachelor-esque rose ceremony...let us face it, I am lucky she was a. visually and/or b. mentally impaired at the time of our engagement).
Last night, the evening was winding down. She had been involved in a hard day of ridding the world of its tax related problems, probably adding and subtracting numbers, maybe even multiplying and dividing, them like a superhero, and I of course, basking in the glory of my lowly profession had read the final 200 pages of Moby Dick, read the first 50 pages of Beloved, run 7 miles and had 3 or 4 (who's counting) pints of beer at my new favorite watering hole, The Ginger Man (why would anyone do anything other than teach...this is my life for several months each year.....today, another 50 pages of reading, a couple of hours of cell0/guitar practice, and, yes, 2-3 more pints at the newly discovered J. Gilligan's). She was unwinding from a day of what I perceive to be real work, I was basking in the glow of the general haze of pain medication (yes, it was prescribed) and the aforementioned beers while watching, much to my dismay, the Spurs manhandle the Jazz when I heard a chuckle. I look over, and what do I see? - my girly accountant is avidly reading non other than the scholarly journal known as Sports Illustrated! She spent the next 15 minutes filling me in on the articles that I had yet to read...she was like a sports encyclopedia.
I am not a magazine guy. If I am going to read, it will be book or a short story, and if I am looking for soft entertainment, I will more than likely watch television, but Julie's parents bought me a subscription to the previously named sports publication at Christmas, and I have taken some delight in perusing the pages from time to time when my head becomes to tired for school work, but Julie has surprised me. I have alway given her points for being gracious enough to allow an almost nightly barrage of ball games of various sorts to invade our evenings, thinking that she was just being accomodating, but with the arrival of the magazine this year I have become convinced that she is only pretending not to care about sports as much as I do. She almost always gets the magazine before I do, and there have been more than a few times that she has let it slip in the course of a sports-laden conversation, "Yeah, I read that in Sports Illustrated."
I am on to you, Julie Stone. You are officially a sports-nerd; welcome to the club.
Last night, the evening was winding down. She had been involved in a hard day of ridding the world of its tax related problems, probably adding and subtracting numbers, maybe even multiplying and dividing, them like a superhero, and I of course, basking in the glory of my lowly profession had read the final 200 pages of Moby Dick, read the first 50 pages of Beloved, run 7 miles and had 3 or 4 (who's counting) pints of beer at my new favorite watering hole, The Ginger Man (why would anyone do anything other than teach...this is my life for several months each year.....today, another 50 pages of reading, a couple of hours of cell0/guitar practice, and, yes, 2-3 more pints at the newly discovered J. Gilligan's). She was unwinding from a day of what I perceive to be real work, I was basking in the glow of the general haze of pain medication (yes, it was prescribed) and the aforementioned beers while watching, much to my dismay, the Spurs manhandle the Jazz when I heard a chuckle. I look over, and what do I see? - my girly accountant is avidly reading non other than the scholarly journal known as Sports Illustrated! She spent the next 15 minutes filling me in on the articles that I had yet to read...she was like a sports encyclopedia.
I am not a magazine guy. If I am going to read, it will be book or a short story, and if I am looking for soft entertainment, I will more than likely watch television, but Julie's parents bought me a subscription to the previously named sports publication at Christmas, and I have taken some delight in perusing the pages from time to time when my head becomes to tired for school work, but Julie has surprised me. I have alway given her points for being gracious enough to allow an almost nightly barrage of ball games of various sorts to invade our evenings, thinking that she was just being accomodating, but with the arrival of the magazine this year I have become convinced that she is only pretending not to care about sports as much as I do. She almost always gets the magazine before I do, and there have been more than a few times that she has let it slip in the course of a sports-laden conversation, "Yeah, I read that in Sports Illustrated."
I am on to you, Julie Stone. You are officially a sports-nerd; welcome to the club.
Several of you have asked for pics of the new apartment we are moving into at the end of the summer. Here are just a few.
This is potentially the view if our apartment faces the courtyard. We are on the 7th floor, but we do not know if we face inside or out.
This is the view from the interior courtyard. Yes, that is a pool, but it seems a shame to actually swim in it, doesn't it?
This is our living room and kitchen.
Those interested can check it out fully here.
This is potentially the view if our apartment faces the courtyard. We are on the 7th floor, but we do not know if we face inside or out.
This is the view from the interior courtyard. Yes, that is a pool, but it seems a shame to actually swim in it, doesn't it?
This is our living room and kitchen.Those interested can check it out fully here.
Will, I appreciate your comments, and I have thought long and hard on exactly how to refine my arguments. So, here is what I came up with:
You are obviously a terrorist, Osama Bin Norvell.
For proof, I present to you exhibit-A:
I think I have made my point.
You are obviously a terrorist, Osama Bin Norvell.
For proof, I present to you exhibit-A:
I think I have made my point.
I have been without inspiration to write anything besides ‘updates' as of late, and I can only stomach so much of that – how many ways can I say, “It has been busy…Julie and I are good…We…blah, blah, blah, blah.” Yesterday, the long national nightmare that was Spring Term at UD ended, and after a very late night of exercising the demons at my new favorite watering-hole (The Ginger Man), I think my head is finally clear enough to think again. I even spent a couple of hours reading…wait for it, for FUN (reading has not been ‘fun’ for nearly 6 months).
As I said, inspiration has failed me, but ‘where the Lord closes a door….’, right? I can always count on good ‘ole Fox News-loving, ultra-Republican Betsy Stone to give me something to chew on, and this morning she came through in the clutch to break me out of my intellectual slump with this email:
Tokyo Rose
The other night we watched a movie called, "Flags of our Fathers." During the movie, I pointed out the radio broadcast of "Tokyo Rose." She had the best music on her station. During World War II; the Japanese developed a way to demoralize the American forces. Psychological warfare experts developed a message they felt would work. They gave the script to their famous broadcaster "Tokyo Rose" and every day she would broadcast this same message packaged in different ways. The Japanese hoped it would have a negative impact on American GI's morale.
What was that demoralizing message? It had three main points:
1. Your President is lying to you.
2. This war is illegal.
3. You cannot win the war.
Does this sound familiar today? It is because we are being bombarded by Tokyo Hillary, Tokyo Harry, Tokyo Teddy, Tokyo Nancy, , etc., and they have picked up the same message and are broadcasting it on Tokyo CNN, Tokyo ABC, Tokyo CBS, Tokyo NBC, etc., to our troops. The only difference is that they claim to support our troops before they demoralize them. Come to think of it, Tokyo Rose told the troops she was on their side too.
When did patriotism become synonymous with willful blindness? (allow me to invoke the authoritative “we”) We pound our fist against the table in defiance of anyone who would dare claim our president to be a liar? REALLY? We had no problem impeaching a womanizer when he was caught in adultery. We had little problem dismissing a liar after it was determined that he indeed “was a crook”. The very word ‘politician’ has become a punch line, part and parcel with lying; untruths are almost expected, and so why does Bush get a free pass? – because he has been dubbed the uber-Christian by the Right? – because he is a Republican (aka: The New Israel)? Simply put, he is a politician, he is a human, he is a liar.
Is it not possible both to be American and to be ashamed of our highest governing authority? Can we not call this war a mistake? – a mistake discovered long ago, but through the hubris of a pseudo-idealist, good-ole-boy with a gun, divine right of America president, it has turned from a bad idea to a multi-billion dollar staring contest with an infringed upon state, daring the other to blink first so that we might be declared right. I, though certainly not patriotic in the traditional sense of the word (I do not salute nor pledge allegiance to a flag), am proud of the free society that has been forged through several hundred years of labor on the part of my forefathers. I recognize that this freedom has been bought at a high price, namely the lives of those who have fought to secure the freedoms I undoubtedly take for granted, but this mantra does not apply in this instance, and I think it is despicable to invoke such hallowed imagery to win support for one man’s personal mission to reclaim a legacy squandered after 9-11.
We are sacrificing the lives of soldiers in the name of “Liberty”? Are you kidding me? – There are African nations in the midst of long-running civil wars and despotic totalitarianism far, far worse than that which was going on in Iraq. Where is our sense of “freedom for all” when it comes to the poor nations whose resources we do not need to sustain the American way of life? I suppose interceding on behalf of the Africans cannot help us drive our SUV’s and are therefore on a lower strata. We are only interested in protecting the 'liberty' of those whose interests intersect ours...and maybe this does not make us villainous after all. Haven't we dismissed the notion of absolute altruism long ago?
I am lazy; I did no research for this rant. Further, we need not agree; you need not vote for Obama or Clinton in '08 in order for us to be friends or family, but I would encourage anyone to download the podcast of “This American Life” from iTunes and listen to last month’s “Habeas Schmabeas”, which details the conditions at Guantánamo Bay. Hear the testimony of those ‘terrorists’ that have been released after several years’ incarceration, and tell me about the moral fortitude of our governing authorities.
