What Alice Forgot

Today at Barnes and Noble I stole five pages from a book while sipping my Starbuck’s mocha latte Tall with cinnamon. It was a delightful pleasure to luxuriate within those pages. Like a bubble bath of words. I learned a new word – squidginess. I also learned that the word ‘besotted’ could be one of the most romantic words in the English language when used adoringly by the right person. When I was done with my mocha latte I realized I had a decision to make. Come back another time and steal more pages or give up my life of thievery and purchase the book. I chose to purchase it. Because after only five pages I could not stand the idea of not knowing what would happen to Alice and her unborn child. Indeed, I needed to know what had already happened to them and why someone had needed to dial 000. So I stood on line and paid full hardcover money to finish reading “What Alice Forgot” because Mr. Moriarty, clever writer that he apparently is, was capable of drawing me in so fully over a cup of coffee that I couldn’t imagine leaving the store without his novel. Barnes and Noble is also rather clever for allowing us to sit and peruse their books as if it were a library. Invariably, some of us do succumb to the mysteries on the pages and pay the price of admission.

Letter to America (Or "Why you need to get over the Weiner")

Dear America,

I was just reading about the Weiner “scandal” and after I was done rolling my eyes and smacking my lips like I learned from the black girls in Brooklyn where I grew up, I decided to write you a letter. Because I think your priorities are completely up your a$$ and it’s time someone spoke up about it. Why not me?

America, you were founded on good, Puritan family values. What that boils down to most of the time is a fear of all things sexual and a moral compass whose point resembles the dreaded snake from the Garden of Eden. Yes… I said that. I tell you why. Because I can’t count how many times famous evangelists and politicians have been caught with their pants down. I can’t recount the number of inappropriate things men in both high and low positions have said to me, personally, over the years and stories I’ve heard from other. America, grow the fu*% up!!! This is human nature. So long as it’s between two consenting adults, why are you getting yourself all in huff about it?! Does it change whether or not that person is getting their job done? Are the schools better because of him/her? Are the roads being fixed? If so, stop worrying about whether or not they’re sending people pictures of their penises or putting cigars inside interns. That’s for their wives to deal with.

At this point, America, I know the look you have on your face. It’s all screwed up to one side and you are reaching for some holy water to douse me with. But really… you know what I’m saying is right. You just can’t let go of your twisted morality. The very same morality that goes right out the window when it comes close to home. Then you have excuses – lots of them. And rationalizations. Because it’s YOU now. Puh-lease. Now you’re going to argue that this behavior is indicative of a deceitful nature and THAT’S why it’s alarming. Oh yeah… I forgot – America, you think politicians and evangelists should be truthful and upfront and if they’re not they should get out. If that were actually the reality of the situation, our Congress, Senate, and houses of worship would be pretty devoid of any leadership. Get over it, America! That argument doesn’t hold water. Count the number of lies, large and small, you tell in one month just to keep the peace in your households. Now imagine having to make several thousand people who count on you all happy. It’s impossible. Lies will be told. So stop it already! Stop thinking like these are colonial times. You’ve grown up so much. Can’t you be a little more mature about this too? Focus on the things that really matter. We aren’t hiring our leaders for what they do or don’t do in their bedrooms. That should be the least of our concerns.

Sincerely,

A 21^st Century Woman

O-S-A.... I don't know...

I just watched The Daily Show and The Colbert Show present their post Bin Laden segments. I want to rejoice. I do. Jon Stewart has obviously not slept from all the partying. Stephen Colbert is absolutely giddy. They’re making fun of Osama’s being shot in the eye. I laughed when Colbert posed the question, “Does Gaddafi have bullet proof glasses?” Campuses everywhere are partying. People are rejoicing. So why don’t I feel it?

Maybe I’m too cautious but I feel all this rejoicing is misplaced. I can’t get my mind off the images of our Head’s of State in the War Room. Hillary Clinton covering her mouth in horror, Joe Biden sternly watching, and President Obama with a strained look on his face that I’ve never seen. Whatever images they were watching did not end with all of them rising from their seats and cheering. Perhaps later, in hindsight, but not then. Not in real time. I find it disconcerting that we can celebrate savagery of any kind. And, frankly, if I felt this would assure no more fear of 9/11 style attacks, I might join in the revelry. But deep down I feel all we’ve really done is killed the Queen Bee but many other hives are being built. I don’t really feel safe still. After 9/11, I suspect some of us will never really feel safe again.

I’m not anti-American. I’m proud. Obama promised us greatness and has not let us down with this one. He kicked some butt that needed kicking. It’s not like I don’t understand the magnitude of what has happened. But I know how our political machine works. There is some swordplay and posturing at work here. Obama HAD to do put on a big show of power to get back his mojo. He had to mark his territory, as it were, to give himself a better shot at a second term. And I’m not complaining about that. I think he will need a second term to finish what he’s started. I’m all for it. But I just wish that the “might makes right” mentality of the American machine were replaced by “right makes right”.

But… eh. I’m glad they got the bastard and some of his friends too? (Why aren’t they talking about who else was there and who else got shot and/or captured for questioning?) It should slow down and/or end the reign of Al Qaeda. So, okay. I’ll try to enjoy the victory with the rest of you for now.

Lapu Lapu

Today I learned about Lapu-Lapu. “What is Lapu-Lapu?,” you ask? Is it a new breed of dog? Or a great health drink? No. Lapu-Lapu was a Philippine warrior, who on this date (April 27th) in 1521 defeated and killed Magellan when, in the course of discovering foreign lands, he and his mates attempted to convert the native population to Christianity. Why do I know this and why does it matter?

Because, coincidentally, today is the 1st Anniversary of my father’s death. And the universe has gifted me with this information in a totally unrelated internet search. I find it interesting that not only can you share a birthdate with someone famous, but you can share a deathdate with them too. So my father now shares Magellan’s deathdate. Frankly, I hope they’re not in the same place. Magellan, like so many early explorers, did deplorable things in the name of Christianity. My father, lived his whole life trying to perform good works. Like Jesus and Mother Theresa. What’s ironic is Magellan is known for his works and my father… not so much. What’s further irony is that they probably are in the same place and my father is starting to realize what complete assholes the Christians were and is probably questioning his earthly alliances.

All I know is that Lapu Lapu sounds like a real badass. Today is a holiday in the Phillipines because of his strength and conviction to not be stripped of his right to worship whatever god(s) he worshipped in whatever apparently fucked up way he wanted to. I’ve heard stories of enemies’ hearts being used as the focus of certain ancient ceremonies. If that’s true, maybe Magellan’s heart was finally put to good use.

Words...

Words are the green and yellow of the wise
The blue and violet of the noble
The red and orange of the poet
The black and white of the crafty
If you were blind, how would you paint my soul with words?
If I were deaf, how might I interpret them?
Paint with truth, which resonates sharply always.
Choose words with clarity which will color themselves
Like a crystal chameleon, shape shifting in the sun.

Musings on a Monday

I just looked out my kitchen window while making a sandwich and tea and saw what appeared to be a cloud of billowing smoke rising from my the neighbors' yard over my fence. Two of their little boys were scurrying around (roughly 8 and 7 years old). One of them looked a bit agitated. The older one ran towards the source of the problem with a large flat yellow plastic item. Perhaps the cover to a toy chest. My first thought was, "great, they've started a fire." I didn't have a clear view because whatever it was, it was very close to the fence on the other side. If it was a fire, my fence, which is wooden, would shortly be ablaze which would have signaled me to place a 911 phone call. However, apparently, whatever it was, it stopped once the yellow lid was dropped on it. Perhaps it was a fire and this child knew enough to go find a giant snuffer to put it out? I don't know. All I know is I lingered at the window long enough to watch their little faces relax as they looked down into that corner of the yard. Apparently, whatever it was, it was now over.

Being more relaxed myself, I paused to peruse the faces of the boys and I mused how the eldest looked so much like his mother. Then I noticed that all along, one of their other boys had been sitting inside a play car (there are a total of 5 boys and 1 girl next door). The little one, about 1 year in age has straw colored hair and it dawned on me how much his features are like his father's. This produced a warm inner smile in me. The recognition of the awesome magic that a parent must feel when they see themselves in tiny form, smiling back from a face that is not their own. I imagined the sheer awe at knowing that your genes, your parents' genes, their siblings's genes, and on and on, are now residing within that tiny person. And when you are no longer here, this tiny person will live on with your eyes, your teeth and hopefully escape your family's history of diabetes.

I have chosen not to partake in this passing of the genetic baton. But at that moment, while looking out my kitchen window, procreation and parenting made sense. I understand the drive that makes so many people want to do it. Children really are a blessing. Even if they might accidentally be burning down your fence.

Introduce Yourself

I wish the me I don't know would come out and introduce herself to me.