Saturday, July 31, 2010
"Aging art history professor arrested during confrontation with postal clerk." Have a quiet pill.
I'm having coffee in one of Elita's divine red cups. She gifted me with one of these cups on another visit. Bill is sorting the mail inside at the kitchen table amid more dialogue about the state of the world. Another plane flies overhead, on its way from Westchester County or perhaps circling toward LaGuardia.
"Liberal Republican from NY, Jacob Javits, patron of the arts. Remember him? He said 'Don't mess with the military. Too many jobs, too much money.'."
There's that bird calling again, its species not yet extinct. I see a pair of cardinals fly across the garden. There is traffic below, another plane headed south.
"Louie Armstrong said, 'Don't fuck with my hustle.' "
We are fucked. Yet, this morning, I am happy to be here on this terrace with no humidity and the day stretching on ahead. Elita will appear soon. It's 10:01 a.m.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
To the shopper in me I say: Think about it.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
"I don't get it," my friend said to me over dinner at a new restaurant that serves local produce that is either braised or pan seared and then placed on very large white plates and is mostly yummy. But I digress."I don't get it," were her words, quickly followed by, "How does texting and Twitter bring you closer to your children, to your friends, to anyone at all?" Genuine puzzlement.
Here I am, once again, with a long time friend with whom I shared child raising activities that included PTA meetings, car pools, science projects and school carnivals. Now our sons and daughters are mired, as we were, joyfully or not, in raising small children in hopes that their offspring will be quite wonderful adults.
And once again, we grandmoms are debating the merits of social media. And because I'm a blogger, my friends think I know 'things' and have magic answers.
Here is what I know. Our children have crossed over into a new world. A few of us are following. Most of us are not. The new world is foreign. Yes, most new worlds appear foreign in the beginning. We don't like the language in this new place, simply because it is new and who among us can type out tiny URLs, for heaven sakes? My god, it was just yesterday that we were fighting our VCR and telling folks we couldn't program with that over-complicated remote. By the way, that is still true.
What I can say here is that for our daughters and sons with busy lives raising kids, following career paths and immersed in perennial science projects, a text message or a tweet to the world is the way to connect, to tell it like it is today, the good, the bad and the worse. Kids got sore throats? Again? Did the cat throw up on the couch? For the seventh time? Is supper burning up the skillet, causing the smoke alarm to alert the fire department? Are the kids cranky and hungry without supper, but now having a few firemen rushing through their space?
As you can see, there are opportunities here for very quick communications with compadres, with those who know absolutely because they are living this stuff too. I'd say to long time friends far and wide what I said at the table eating delectable local braised produce, "We'd have texted our hearts out too if we'd had the technology."
I do get it. But it's still hard to be a grandmom and get that tiny keyboard under control. There are just so many acronyms too. What about just saying, "I love you all to death. Call when you can."?Original Deep South Moms blog post by MM Hansen who also posts at Rockbridge Times and Second Seating Houston.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Thursday, July 08, 2010
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
'On the high definition screen, Dior had everything the house could wish for as a stunning haute couture image: a romantic vision updated by technology so that the blooms seemed to be manipulated in cyberspace — gliding in front of a static audience. Here was a skirt clustered as if made with hydrangea heads; there, a dress with organic worms of fabric and a show-stopping petal of a pansy hand-painted on a ball gown.
Sitting in the audience, the view was slightly different: extraordinary, exceptional, but not quite the jolt of modernity that “Galliano the gardener” might have hoped for when he collaborated with Nick Knight, photographer and digital image maker. The designer said that he wanted to render real flower images contemporary. And the parade did turn the static loveliness of Irving Penn into the breathing, heaving sensuality of Georgia O’Keefe.'
'Yet the 3-D version, which Dior may decide to post online, highlighted the reality of Paris haute couture in the 21st century. What keeps it alive is not the trickle of private customers, but the opportunity to express the vision and stir emotion for a vast public. If ever a collection were made to savor, to rerun each night on an iPad, perchance to dream, this Dior show was it.'
Monday, July 05, 2010
"While Republican senators dominated Justice Sonia Sotomayor's hearings, Democrats this time displayed a degree of discipline you just don't expect from a party that so often sees discipline as a dread disease.
One Democrat after another reinforced the argument that a conservative court could bring us back to the Gilded Age by ceding power to corporations and undercutting government's ability to act as a countervailing power on behalf of individuals with weak bargaining positions.
Having once made it easy for their opponents to cast them as elitists, progressives are behaving like small-d democrats again. Now that's a change we can believe in -- and an approach that might even win."
Think of that.