Drive-By Thinking.

reflecting.

There comes a time in every parent's life when you sit down with your child and have The Talk. My time was yesterday.

I didn't know it was coming. I thought we were just sitting there, cuddling and watching America's Next Top Model reruns. She asked the question, I offered the answers, and all of a sudden we'd crossed some invisible barrier. Quick and painless.

Changes are coming; I can see them hovering on the horizon. Or, if I'm to be completely honest, when I look at her. I'm not sure I like that. I don't much think she does, either. She's already said, "I don't want to grow up yet."

I don't want her to. I want her to stay childlike and innocent. I want her to stay small and huggable. I don't get that choice and neither does she.

At least she knows she can talk to me, and that I'm not going to BS her with some flowery, beat-around-the-bush answer. At least I know she still trusts me, and that I haven't yet become the enemy.

For now.

(sigh)

perhaps I shouldn't say anything…

…because I'm not fully informed on the subject. What subject? This whole thing with George Zimmerman and Trayvon Martin. 

I've purposely stayed uninformed on the subject, for multiple reasons. For one, it's quickly escalated from a campfire to an out of control, Santa Ana-driven conflagration; and two, the facts have been lost in the media flurry with everyone from the lawyers to the politicians to the race-baiters getting into the spotlight.

The most unbiased, cut-to-the-chase reporting I could find was via Wikipedia. (Yeah, I know.) So taking that with the proverbial pinch of kosher salt (larger flakes/better flavor), I get that Zimmerman thought he was Matt Dillon (the character, not the actor), took on more than he could chew or was advised to bite into, and when the kid fought back (or fought him off, depending on the source you choose to believe), Marshal Dillon shot and killed the kid. Add to that the bumbled handling of this case by the relevant law enforcement agencies (the real ones) and you have a community up in arms. 

In the end, a kid is dead and a guy with a hero complex (and a history of domestic … er … issues) is being browbeaten from all sides (including having a bounty on his head from the New Black Panthers). The cops seem to have mishandled it from the start, and only now under intense pressure from all sides are they truly mounting a more in-depth investigation.

In my state, regardless of how clear-cut the situation is, or how many dozens of eye-witnesses were present, if I discharged my weapon and claimed self-defense in killing someone else, I would be arrested. I would be taken into custody, have to call a lawyer, and potentially post bond. It would be up to the Commonwealth's Attorney to determine whether or not charges should be dismissed, not for the individual police officer to say "aw, gettowtahere."

I don't know what Florida law is. According to Wiki (again), the police don't arrest unless they determine at the time that the use of force in self-defense was unlawful. The police in this case made a judgement call at the time, and so it's pretty much case closed. So he's (for now) off scot-free and people are pissed about it. And I think they're justified in their indignation. If it were my kid and I was essentially told "too bad, so sad" by the cops, you bet your bippie I'd be all over the media about it.

And because the kid was black and Zimmerman is white, we have the added element of (gasp) racism involved. Whether or not that was the case, that's all the media needs to get its grip into this story and sure as bob's your uncle we have the Sharptons and the Jacksons and the Panthers and all that involved. Rallies nationwide. Add in the anti-gun lobbyists and the fact that this is threatening to become a Department of Justice case as a "hate crime" – despite any real evidence to indicate the necessity – and this is playing right into politics as we know it.

So I would personally like to thank George Zimmerman for 

• making the rest of us law-abiding gun owners look like paranoid zealots waiting for a chance to play hero
• giving the anti-gun lobby a poster boy for their cause
• giving the race-baiters more press.

What does irk me more than anything else though, is the DOJ playing for the spotlight here. This isn't a "hate crime." The only reason I can think of for their involvement is to give them some traction for their boss in a crucial election cycle.

You want to know what a real hate-crime looks like? Tell me why this report out of Kansas City hasn't gotten more attention, then. It happened at the end of February, according to KMBC, and yet I get very few hits about it, and no national attention via the … traditional… media sources.

But because it happened to a white kid who was attacked by black kids… naw. That couldn't be the case.

The Daily Mail article had a commenter who very succinctly made an important point:

As far as the victim is concerned, what is the difference between a "racially-motivated" physical assault and a "normal, violence-motivated" one, and why on earth does the justice system make a distinction? An injured or dead victim is just as injured or dead, whatever the motivation. The law should punish the act, not the thought behind it.

Well said, I think. The law should punish the act. So too should the investigation focus on the act, not the supposed motivation.

But there's no spotlight to be found in that, I suppose.

quick shots.

Only 'cause I've got a crapton of stuff to look up for other purposes today. I may make another rant later.

For the record, I didn't watch the SOTU address last night. I preferred to exercise my right to tell him to STFU instead. I read some of what was written about it, and I'm convinced I made the right decision. There'll be enough commercials running for the Anointed One between now and November and I don't need to give him dedicated air time in this house.

I'm likely to throw something heavy at the teevee by accident, and I can't afford to replace the set right now. Economy, don't you know. (That and I haven't seen a flat-screen that's really convinced me it's worth the money yet. I'll lose the traditional sets when they die, and not before.)

But to the headlines:

Mr. Blatt points out that it's not the Republican-controlled side of the legislature we should be bent about. He's right, as usual. While I'm not entirely pleased with what the House has done, (but when am I truly satisfied with anything?) the Senate has rested itself firmly on an excuse of gridlock and neglected its duty. They should be fired. I expect they'll be re-elected instead.

 

Kudos to one helluva goalie. Sure, it'll cost him some fans, but he's staying true to what he believes. 

What? It only counts when it's some left-wing actor or singer mouthing off on an approved main-stream network about something they know nothing about? Pfah. Go Timmy.

I've got opinions on military cuts (what? me? opinions?) but I don't have much save for gut instinct about it. I don't know whether Mr. Caruba has all the facts either, but neither of us think that what's being planned and done passes the smell test.

And finally, I kind of wish I still lived a little further north. At least when it comes to things like this. I ask my northern peeps: did you see it? Was it really fabulous?

Now I'm off to get some real work done. K out.

you need a fix, don't you?

Yes, you do.

It's that time of year again, y'all – the hills are alive with little girls wearing blue, green, brown and beige, covered with pins and colorful patches, hounding you about your preference for once-a-year special treats.

Allow me to add to your pile in this respect. Exhibit A: HSH.

She's primed and ready to sell Girl Scout Cookies. Thanks to your generosity (and complete lack of willpower), she not only met her own goal, but the troop as a whole set a sales record. They sent cookies to a Navy air wing, and are using their hard-earned money to fund various activities this year, both fun and educational.

Enter Exhibit B:

Yessssss… you know you want some. Eight varieties available, from the new Savannah Smiles (lemony wedge-shaped cookies) and Do-Si-Dos (peanutbuttersammichygoodness), to Thank You Berry Munch (which I swear taste just like Crunch Berries) and Thin Mints (order 'em by the case and have enough for your freezer).

If you don't have a Brownie of your own, you may borrow mine. She's fairly low maintenance. And she wholly appreciates y'all purchasing cookies. If you do have a Brownie of your own, thank you for supporting Girl Scouts.

Contact me if you would like a box or two. I'll cover the shipping.

 

best wishes

… for a wonderful, merry Christmas.

"For behold: I bring you tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people."

May you all find your own great joy today and always.

for your entertainment.

Tonight HSH participated in her very first school concert. (I'm not counting the preschool graduation show, which showed 4-year olds in total confusion over why they were onstage in the first place.) I was very proud. Firstly, she looked stunning.

too good for america's next top model, i think.

She picked it out herself. Sparkles are very "in," I guess. I blame Hizzoner for the gene pool, because I was never that pretty.

This photo bothered me in a way only a mother can be bothered.

look, ma -- earrings are back!*

I don't know if it's the fact that she's lost that baby roundness, or that she just appears to be way older than eight, or that she's showing signs of having definitely inherited my nose. In any case, it bothers me.

The concert itself featured this very small school's very small music program: the 3rd graders, the upper school choir (all 23 of them), and the mass band (5th graders, middle school, and upper school). I won't say it wasn't painful to listen to at times, but they all did their best.

The band played a lot of non-holiday fare, including some Herbie Hancock, and of all things, Freebird. I don't know if that was a special request from the Claus or not, but it wasn't half bad. The music teacher has to direct and play trombone at the same time (there's some holes in the band that need filling), but I suppose it's not that hard to keep time with a trombone slide.

the third grade. hsh is top row, extreme house right.

The choirs sang a lot of decidedly religious music. (The privilege of a private school, I imagine. I think that's great.) The 3rd graders got their own slot, singing four different (and unfamiliar) songs. They did a really good job. I'm being totally honest here. The upper school choir sounded sick by comparison, despite learning a lot of nice pieces, though, including a comical medley from O Brother, Where Art Thou? featuring the only six guys in the school with the cojones to sing in public. Then they brought the little kids back on stage and all sang together.

our heroine is center front, paying attention to the conductor just as she should.

Again, I didn't know the song, but the kids did very well. HSH sang her little heart out. One of the ladies from the bus stop remarked on it, with a smile so big you'd think it was her own grandkid on the stage.

I look at these kids, most of whom I've known for at least four years now, and it's kind of scary. I feel like I can tell you who the troublemakers are going to be; who the cheerleaders and the jocks are; who's going to be on the fringe. Yeah, they're only 8 and 9 year olds now, but how quickly they grow up.

I don't think I like that.

_____

*Oh yeah. Earrings are back in after the great Lost Back Fiasco; had to essentially repierce one ear but so far the sterling wires are being tolerated, and I didn't have to consult a professional.

things get a little dusty

…when you're busy. So I'll just highlight some things that have been rattling around here at Casa DBT:

• Rumors of my demise are highly suspect. I have considered taking down my shingle, just because in two months I've not had the time nor the desire to write anything. Political posts require me to get pissed off and other posts require me to be either witty or verbose, and both take energy I don't have right now. So there. However, the radio silence is deafening in its own way, and I'll do my best to be a little better at updating this space.

• I have been working on stuff. Eight of 20 wee snowmen are knit, and I'm going to finish the other 12 if it petrifies the muscles in my hands. Yes, I'm well aware that I'm crazy, but I've committed myself, and so it will be done.

I finished this before the great snowman invasion:

Yes, that's the famed Alan Dart jultomten. I used all manner of odds and ends, and he's quite content to hang about the house. I accidentally attached his nose off center. It adds to his personality.

• I don't know who are giving me the bigger headache: the talky tweenies in the troop, or their parents. The girls – who are mostly very good – are most bearable when they're very busy. The parents can't be trusted to follow simple instructions, don't check their email, and think they can monopolize valuable – and limited – meeting time with questions that could be easily answered if they followed instructions and read their damn email. I sent home a nastygram with the girls this week that, if read, should minimize future issues.

Oh, calm down. It wasn't "nasty" nasty. It was just … firmly worded.

• The suspension of Mr. Cain's campaign was disappointing. I don't put a lot of credence into the allegations against him. But it doesn't matter what I believe; it matters what the mainstream media can get the average, miseducated American to believe. And apparently the average Jane and Joe swallowed the bait. Thus, the MSM and their leftist allies successfully put down a black man who dared publicly step off the plantation. Note how they've also cleverly put forth into public notice the least conservative members the pack to lead the race for the GOP nomination.

Aaaand the RNC does nothing but stick to the tired old formula of shuffle up the heir apparent while not fighting back. Fabulous.

I'm reserving further analysis until after primary season actually starts. 

• The holiday season has been going well. I drove around the neighborhood to check out the lights, and yes, my whacktastic neighbor has his full show going. He's broadcasting a variety of carols on his own little loop (107.3, if you're driving about), complete with elf voices reminding you not to block the other driveways. Apparently the penguins have developed a notoriety. He's billing them as the [neighborhood name] Penguins.

• I was a bit disappointed with The Sing Off this season. Not that I didn't watch; not that I didn't sense real moments of brilliance. The problem lies in refusing to let a'cappella music shine as its own genre. The producers have evidently decided that it needs to be pushed into existing drawers of the musical card catalog, and the artists should follow suit. Also, allowing groups that have formed for the sole purpose of this teevee show to compete, without a track record or history proceeding them, has dragged down the level of artistry. 

The audio mix isn't helping. It's impossible to tell if what the teevee viewer is hearing bears any resemblance to what the judges are hearing. I have to believe there's either a marked difference, or the judges have suffered marked hearing losses since last season.

That having been said, the winning group was head and shoulders above a lot of its competition and I wish them well. I want the album when it's released.

• And that's about it for this post. I will do my best to not let cobwebs collect in this corner of the innerwebs from now on.

i'm out of catchy titles.

So this will have to do.

I've been AWOL again, but that's only because I've suddenly gotten busy. School's in full swing; I'm teaching again; I've had a client with a monster-sized project going back and forth; and then there's Girl Scouts.

A funny thing happened on the way to my email a couple of weeks ago. The leader of HSH's troop sent out an inocuous-looking note with the date and time of the first meeting. Added to this was: "if you'd like to help out, let me know."

Next thing you know, I'm the Junior co-leader. Odd, for someone who personally never made it past Brownies.*

This is kind of freaking me out. 'Cause you know how good I am with other people's kids.

Hey, I finished a sock.

Pattern: Scent of Lavender by Stephanie van der Linden.
Yarn: Oceanwind Knits Merino Sock in Sienna.
Needle: US1 Addi Turbo.
Mods: None, really. I wish I'd added another pattern repeat for the leg, but I'm not ripping it out now. 

Okay, I've got to get back to finishing stuff up so I can gorge on Sing Off tonight. I'm not going to review this season yet. Maybe after they narrow it down from 16 groups. I will say a heartfelt "thank you" to the NBC PTB for 86ing Nicole and her orgiastic commentary, and bringing on a real musician in her place (I think; I may eat those words later). 

K out. Show's on.

_________

*Of course, this is hinging on a clean criminal background check. One never knows what one's been up to, does one?

can i come out, now?

[peeps out, expectantly.]

Yeah, I guess it's safe to come up. Actually, the last two days have been brilliant, weather-wise. If you didn't know that a major storm had passed through here, you wouldn't be able to tell by the current weather. But then, that is one of the absolutely pistifying parts of Mother Nature. One day she's all evil and bitchy, and the next, the sun is out and the breeze is pleasant. Father Nature must have a hell of a time in that house.

I've noticed that the anticipated level of danger projected in a storm is directly related to how many of the tchotchkes come off my neighbor's porches. They must have been spooked, because I don't think I've ever seen it that bare.

We put the harness on Freckles and took a walk around the neighborhood (yes, "walk;" I fell off the C25K wagon shortly after I started due to a shoe issue and haven't yet gotten back on) yesterday morning. There's very little actual damage in this part of the universe. Some branches down; a few Bradford pear trees split; pine needles and cones everywhere; oak leaves and acorns; the odd shingle or chimney cap. We only saw two actual whole trees down: one in a backyard that narrowly missed a deck, and one in a front yard that took out the feeder lines to its house. Other than that feeder line, there was only one other report of power lines down in this development, and we got that secondhand from kids on bikes (as in: "Don't go that way; there's power lines down") as we walked around. That's actually pretty good. The last storm really ripped up my quiet little corner of the city, isolating whole parts of the subdivision and knocking out power, phone and water for over a week. It was heartening to see that we made it through this one relatively unscathed.

Speaking of phone, I'm really getting sick and tired of hearing everyone prattle on about how your mobile phone will be your lifesaver in these kinds of emergencies. Empirical evidence in my own personal experiments conclusively proves otherwise. My landline worked (even though it was sporadic) during Isabel and it was steady and reliable during Irene. Our mobile phones were useless for calling during Isabel and very spotty during Irene – even yesterday I couldn't call out with it. Yes, we could text, but in a relative emergency that's not my first method of communication. Me, I'll stick with the landline, thanks.

HSH is thrilled that school was closed today. The sun is out and the temperatures are damn near perfect, but there's still a lot of road closures and standing water. Her school is what you might call regional vs. local and I don't blame the administration for shutting down for the day. I know the major roads/towns involved had a lot of blockages and outages and until those can be fixed… well, she's willing to take one for the team.

I haven't been out of the neighborhood yet. Curfew, dontyaknow. I can tell you that traffic was light on the main drag past my house yesterday, but it was moving. This, as opposed to Friday, where it seemed as though the entire region was evacuating and chose one main route. How do I know? Well, my normal trip to HSH's bus stop is two minutes each way, and that's if I catch the light. No… it took me 20 minutes to get home after meeting the bus Friday. If I hadn't been certain of getting run over, I'd have ditched the car, walked across the street and back, and cut my losses. I expect traffic to pick up again soon, especially trucks.

Oh, and I managed to finish a shawl and get half a sock done. I had to knit something, because the nerves knotted themselves as the storm ratcheted itself up. Consequently my gauge is a little… tight. Oh well… 11 sts/inch has to fit somebody….

_____

In other news:

It was nice to see that Fearless Leader could interrupt his pricey little vacation to address us peons about the storm and tell us that Mother Government would make it all better. Pfah. 

The media reaffirms it, so it must be true: New York City IS the center of the universe! Buncha freaking whiners. If they'd gotten half the storm the OBX got, then there might be something to bitch about. Shutting the city down and screaming "the sky is falling" over a little rain? Really? P*ssies.

The top five entries in my Google News "world" feed are all about Islamic violence. But I shouldn't judge.

Steve Jobs retired. I'm not optimistic, and I'm a Mac. Last time he left (or rather, was ousted), Apple went off on a wild hair and the products took it in the backside because of it. I can only hope that the new PTB continue with his vision instead of trashing it again.

If this is true, I will live forever. But I will caution everyone to heed Dr. Franco's advice:

"… if you are not eating chocolate, our advice is not to start eating chocolate."

Why? Because I don't need y'all gobbling it up and creating a shortage. It's mine, damn it.

And football season starts in earnest this coming weekend. I'm ready. Hurricanes be damned… I want my football fix!

K out.

when in danger; when in doubt…

…run in circles, scream and shout.

Or not.

Firstly, happy 8th birthday to Her Serene Highness. She's grown into a beautiful, intelligent, clever little lady and I love her with all my heart.

I would also like to apologize to her for the weather clouding her birthday celebrations. Nothing we can do about that, though.

If you do not hear from me for a long time, you know why. Electricity will go out here, I've no doubt of it. Communications will be spotty at best, and I'm still primitive phone-wise. I will post when I can but I make no promises as to when that will be.

So here's some Irene-related FAQs:

Are you going to be okay?
In so far as it's possible. We're far enough inland as to be out of the worst of the stuff, and flooding isn't a huge concern here unless we get, say, 6 inches in 30 minutes or so. (Which is possible.)

Do you need anything?
I need for the storm to move offshore as quickly as possible. I still need a full-time job. I could use a winning lottery ticket. And I should really lose some weight. Unless you have the solutions to these problems, then no, we're good. Thanks for asking.

What are you going to do when you lose power?
Sit in the dark, I suppose.

What about the dog?
She doesn't mind the dark.

Do you want to come here?
Maybe. Depends how things go. Gas tanks are full and we'll be prepared to evac if the situation turns to shit.

____

Anywho, the laundry's done (so we'll have clean britches during the subsequent power outage), the house is clean, the fridge is packed full of ice, water, beer and emergency chicken. We have plenty of batteries (and some are even for flashlights). I bought canned goods and bottled water. We found all the flashlights and charged what needs charging.

Don't worry about us, but if you can send up a prayer to the weather gods, I expect the whole region would appreciate it.

I'll update when I can.