What a Freakin' Week...

It's been one of those weeks (or two) for me. You know, those ones where if things are going to go wrong, they do. I tend to get leery when things go too well for too long; I imagine that the bottom will soon fall out from under me and the house of cards will collapse (a mix of metaphors, I know).

The trials of being a landlord were in high form this month. A leaky toilet and a broken drier. I went to fix both, was unable to do the drier (is it spelled "dryer"?) and was only able to do a half-assed job on the toilet (that figure of speech is quite accurate since, when I replaced the toilet, the new seat was too small and the toilet wobbled). And then, I was to discover a major drain leak emptying all the contents of the washing machine into the basement. To add to all of this, I had just been diagnosed the day before with bursitis in my left shoulder, this "out of the blue" swollen tendon that made even buttoning my pants hell.

And that brings me to the whole "bursitis" thing. With all do respect to people who actually suffer from these things (and are older than I am), but this is the first condition that my brain, which is frequently obsessing about age lately, has attached the label of "old person's diseasae." I'm expecting bunions, gout and osteoporosis next. Bursitis?? All I know is it hurts somethin' fierce and I didn't do anything that I know of to bring it about. I know, get out the tiny violins...

So anyway, I'm repairing (or not) the items in our duplex and, of course, everything that requires an ounce of muscle is on the left side, so I'm pretty much useless. Time to call in the professionals and open the valve on my bank account. And then, in the same week, our hot tub breaks down (I hesitate to even say that since I never dreamed I'd even be able to have a hot tub, much less a really nice bathtub) and our propane tank runs dry. With fuel prices through the roof, it cost us 20% more to fill the thing up.

I'm jonesing for a better August. My next posting, when I get to it, will be must less ranting and more wise musings, I promise.

Here I Am!

I'm in week two of the Puget Sound Writer's Project, an intense 4 week (with a half dozen Saturdays over the coming school year) of writing, reflecting, learning, sharing, etc. with about 20 other participants. We're all teachers, and we're all writers. It's been great. I've been riding my bike to and from the UW (from the ferry dock--about a 45 minute ride through the city) and it's been wonderful to have a good sweat twice a day that doesn't involve sitting in an overheated car in the middle of traffic. The class runs from 8:30 to 3:30 each day and, even though I'm not lifting bags of cement or scraping paint from the side of a house, I come home exhausted each day. But I love it. The enviroment of the university, academia, shirtless hackysack players...I mean...academia. Yeah, that's it.
:)

I'm glad to have a quick moment to update this blog because I've not had time at a computer, really. This weekend was a productive one for my current novel. I was able to crank out upwards of 30 pages and they're not completely horrible, so that's good. My goal is to have a draft ready for revision by the end of this summer and I think I may make it. Fingers crossed (and typing).

I dreamed the other night that I was lost in Italy, and I wasn't even afraid. In fact, the only thing that stressed me about it was that I was worried I wouldn't catch my plane home and I didn't have a sub to start the first day of school.

Jump In, Jump Out

So, I've been chastised by a couple folks for not having updated my blog in some time. Guilty. I think the end of the school year, transitions, laziness are all the culprits. So, in spite of the fact that I have much to tell, I'll give a brief rundown of highlights and (hopefully) expand on them later.

Al Franken. Yes, Al Franken. On my first night in Minneapolis (for my second mini-book tour), I gave an interview on the program "Almanac" for Twin Cities Public Television and had the great fortune to watch (and follow) Al Franken, who is running (and really, should win) for the U.S. Senate seat representing Minnesota. He was articulate, smart, gracious and even funny (he is a funny guy, for crying out loud--something that for some reason people want to hold against him).

Meeting a descendant of one of the mob participants. At one book signing, I had the honor of meeting a man who came to point out his father in the photo of the lynchings. It was a first for me, and a moment that I savored. We had a wonderful conversation and I could see that my book had a great impact on him. If nothing else, his words will carry me through the rest of this whole author thing. What I'd hoped I'd be able to do with the book, I can see I've managed to do. Very cool.

More later...

There Goes the Gayborhood...

So, 4 out of 7 California Supreme Court justices recommend equality for their citizens who choose marriage. Outstanding. The only negative for me in that little item is that 3 out 7 are fearful that the entire planet will implode when two men or two women have their relationship upheld along with opposite gender couples. Here's a snippet of the report from CNN:

"There can be no doubt that extending the designation of marriage to same-sex couples, rather than denying it to all couples, is the equal protection remedy that is most consistent with our state's general legislative policy and preference," Thursday's ruling read.
Accordingly, the law's language "limiting the designation of marriage to a 'union between a man and a woman' is unconstitutional, and ... the remaining statutory language must be understood as making the designation of marriage available to both opposite-sex and same-sex couples," it read.

For the naysayers, if you don't haul out the old, "Adam and Eve/Adam and Steve" and "What about polygamy and marrying your dog" argument, I won't get into the old, "Look at thrice married Rush Limbaugh" or "Britney Spears models the sanctity of marriage" or "Levitcus also says you should stone to death your disrespectful children" arguments. The term "sanctity of marriage" is a simple term used when the person saying it doesn't really want to deal with the complex issues around relationships, partnerships and his or her own fears. "What about the sanctity of marriage?" they say, upon discovering infidelity. "The sanctity of marraige compels you to obey me!" "Oh dear, now that gays can marry, the sanctity of my marraige is shattered." The reality is, in this day and age, marriage is a legal recognition gifted by the government to protect (and take advantage of) two people's relationship. What it means in the heart, what the partnership is at its very core, can never be defined by a piece of paper--whether it's you and your wife who have it or the two men next door.

My partner and I have been married twice--to one another. Once in Portland, Oregon, again in Canada. Did it make our relationship stronger? Did it make us feel like we were more legitimate? Honestly, it did. At the moment, we had this sense of validation if only because we were finally being awarded the same thing that "normal" (as a co-worker once harmlessly called us) couples receive. For about a day or two, we rode the high of having had our relatioship blessed by an official "relationship blesser" and, of course, having our family there. But once the cake was eaten and everyone had gone home, we were left with what we had before: A pretty stable, loving partnership, one in which each of us often takes care of our own needs first and, occasionally, places our partner's needs before ours. Where we misplace our keys, neglect the dusting, argue, make up, hug our children, cook dinner, disagree over how to load the dishwasher and tell one another "I love you" on a daily basis. The marriage certificate we have framed is a nice symbol for what someone once tried to give us and of the beautful event that was our wedding. But in the reality of daily life, it doesn't form the foundation of who and what we are.

So what am I saying? Do I care that California may allow gay marriage now? Do I want Washington state to do the same? Of course. Will it make me love my partner more? No. Will it cause any of my sons to suddenly broaden their search of potential life partners to include males now? Likely not. What it will do is give me the simple things that anyone wants with the person they love. To exist with him or her, enjoying the same rights that his or her straight neighbors have. The recognition of the agreement to be a partnership, no judgements on their worthiness, stability, prettiness or palatbility. Just an equal support of their desire to be with one another and of the dream that they may grow old as a couple.

A Real Cereal Killer

I came across the website The Imaginary World the other day when I was looking for the name of a cereal that I remembered having once--ONCE--as a kid (we were not the "sugar cereal" kind of family. In fact, we were the anti-sugar cereal family. The bowls of puffed rice and puffed wheat that I most recall could have easily doubled as packing filler). Anyway, as soon as I found the picture of the "Freakies" cereal box, a flood of warm memories washed over me, finding that goulish rubber figure tucked near the bottom of the box. I don't remember what the cereal tasted like, but I'm sure it was sugar-laden and probably really abrasive, like a lot of those cereals were. You know, eat a bowl of Cap'n Crunch or Honeycomb ("Big Big crunch in a big, big bite!") or Cookie Crisp, then swish a dose of orange juice around in your mouth and see what I mean. Anyway, it's a fun site to go through not only to see the toys, foods and ads that you remember (or don't remember) but to get a sense of the absurdities that have passed through Madison Avenue. I like to imagine an ideas meeting where a guy raises his hand and says, "I know...how about a mascot that looks like a lit up, alcoholic Wall Street tycoon who would sooner knife you in the back or kidnap your child than serve you dinner?"

Ahh...good times.

Another Human Being Saved

James Lee Woodard is a man experiencing an unexpected, greatly deserved rebirth. Another in a line of embarassing "Oops, we're sorry we stole half of your life away from you" moments in the American justice system, Mr. Woodard was freed after having spent TWENTY SEVEN YEARS of his life in prison for a murder he didn't commit. (Bonus points--guess which state? If you guessed that one that puts out oil and a president who can hardly steer a bicycle along a trail much less steer a country, then you win!) Thanks to the Innoncence Project , Mr. Woodard can somehow start to assemble the rest of his life. At age 55, he certainly still has many years ahead of him, though probably even more behind him that he'd rather forget. Sentenced to life in prison, I imagine the only thing Woodard can be thankful for is that he didn't get the death penalty. In the 27 years he was behind bars, Texas exectuted 406, according to the site TexasExecutions.com. And according to the Innocence Project, 31 individuals in Texas have been exonerated by DNA testing alone. It's not clear how many prisoners have been moved from death row due to overturned cases, but one can only imagine how many still remain to be proven innocent. Feelings about state-sanctioned killing of guilty people aside, the mere fact that there can be one person executed for a crime that he or she didn't commit should wipe the laws from the books with no discussion whatsoever. In the movies (and in real life), there are many unhappy endings where a reactionary mob or angry lover pulls the trigger or cinches the noose, only to walk away dazed when the reality of innocence comes to light. It's the consequence of violent impulse and shortsighted justice. When we have the luxury of time and science, why do we continue to hear about underrepresented prisoners begging to be heard?

**It is often easier to become outraged by injustice half a world away than by oppression and discrimination half a block from home. ~Carl T. Rowan

A Stimulating Thought

When the solution to a failing economy is to sink us deeper into debt, flush the system with money so that we can buy more HD televisions, Crocs and I-phones, I can only imagine that if my grandparents (who lived through the depression) were alive today they'd, well...keel over. I have a thought! How about taking that $168 billion and putting it into the continued (?) efforts to rebuild New Orleans or the failing bridges and roads around the country. Remember the roads projects in the 30's? I think that money spent shoring up our infastructure would be what they call investment in the future. It would get jobs going, income flowing and, in turn, purchases would happen.

I read an interesting blog posting by Aria Fine, who hails from Minneapolis (I was just there on my book tour--funny...). His posting at http://blog.iamnotashamed.net/2008/04/25/if-we-are-just-giving-money-away-why-not-try-reparations/ puts forth some interesting ideas, not just about the conundrum of reparations, but about a more responsible use of those monies. I love it. Think. Be creative. Be proactive. Here are a few of my alternatives to using Walmart as a depository for my "gift" from G.W. Bush that's on its way:

1. Put it all toward your credit card. You're actually taking money away from them that way.

2. Give half to your neighborhood school's PTA/PTO fund.

3. Make a donation to your local library.

4. Put some toward your local food bank.

5. Send it where it's needed even more, where, for many people, basic food, housing and personal safety are lofty goals: http://www.alternativegifts.org/ or http://www.heifer.org/

6. Put it toward your 401K or retirement fund.

7. Visit a local community college or trade school and ask the counseling office if there are needy students who could use help buying text books for the upcoming quarter.

Make a difference that is meaningful.