Political Nutrition

My family seems to think I have this annoying habit. I start sentences and don't finish them. It seems I do it all the time. I'll start out with...."Wow. Did you ever..." then I pause, drink some coffee, grab a magazine and walk away. And this bother's them for some reason. Why can't they just fill in the blanks? I have to literally complete every sentence, which is silly. If I start out with "looks like it's going to..." then of course I figure they'll look outside, see the clouds, and know I meant to say "rain." or "be a nice day" or "take a long time to refinish that dining room table." I mean how hard can it be? Plus, it's not like they don't have their own annoying habits. And theirs are quite annoying by design and intention. My husband likes to sit next to me while I play some serious rounds of bejeweled, and in this really quiet voice whispers sound effects. "Chick chick Poo..." he rep

So. What gives one the right to healthcare in our great Nation? Well, if you're a convicted felon you have a right to healthcare. Nothing but the best either. Dental too. Lose your job? Go rob a bank. Literally. then turn yourself in, plead guilty, and ask for the maximum sentence...or at least enough time served to get that Heart Valve Replacement and maybe a new set of Porcelain Veneers. You can run for elected office. No experience or work required. You don't even need an education. Just a great handshake and shady set of ethics. You get great benefits that way too. And you don't have to share. Health Care Reform? Might dip into their own perks. You could quit your job and go on welfare. You'd get medical care then too. Cut your own hand off and go on disability. You can do almost anything in America and get Health Care. Except be a responsible, working adult. Then you're screwed. What kind of surreal existence is this? If John Jerkman shoots his neighbor,

We had this big book growing up. They called it a phone book. You could look up someone's name, and find out not only what their phone number was, but get this...where they lived. And there was handy map too, so you could go to their house and ring the bell if you wanted. Why bring up such archaic items? Because so many people are jabbering on now about privacy. Particularly when it comes to social networks and the internet. Seriously, you click on a person's facebook page, and if you aren't their friend, you can't see their personal info. Like...their phone number. Or address. Oooh. Ok, true, some people are unlisted. Unless of course they own a home. Then, you simply go online and in three clicks, look up the deed. Public information. Go figure.  Some of our government websites are so damn easy to search. You can look up any name, and find out not only their address, but how much they paid for the house, how big it is, when they bought it. Or, you can look up an a

So I have finally decided what my parting gift will be when my daughter heads back to school after break. It will be a lovely, hand printed note. Dear Ms. Miller: To express our appreciation for having you stay with us here at Chez Miller, we are extending our full VIP discount. The following represents a true vacation value, we're sure you'll agree. So in lieu of the traditional "Thank You, Mom and Dad" which we understand is so difficult for you to part with, we'll accept the following monetary gratuity instead: 7 Nights Deluxe accommodations @ $159 per night Airport Transportation @ $129 round trip (x2) Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner, plus all you can eat snack privileges: $400 Daily Resort fee including Pool and Spa @ $10 per day: $60 Roundtrip airfare $400 Total Due: $2231 We hope you'll find this type of arrangement more palatable in the future than the obviously outdated tradition of good manners. We look forward to your next, hopefully luc

So I watched Tiger's  Press Conference today. Don't know why. But I did. No surprises. Until the end. And I quote "I ask you to one day, find room in your heart....." drum roll please.... "to believe in me again." WHAT? I really was speechless at that.  Who among us didn't expect him to finish with "to forgive me." But no. It's Tiger Woods. And his biggest concern is what people think of him. Or rather, that they admire him. Look up to him. Adore him. Bow to him. But forgive? Perhaps he knew in his heart, there is no way most of us could ever forgive him. Or should. Heck I don't know the guy. I don't need to forgive him. But I sure as hell will never believe in him. This narcissistic demonstration takes about 15 minutes. A rambling narrative filled with apologies, but little substance. He glosses over the fact that he "had affairs" and "cheated" on his wife. EXCUSE ME? Sorry. But his infidelity knew no bound

Countless times you heard it in the Junior High hallway. Walk! Don't Run! So now, as I look out my home office window and see neighbor after neighbor running by...I think, what is wrong with you people? It's a beautiful day, blue sky, sunshine, what are you running for? Slow down, take some time to enjoy the scenery. Now I have friends who run. I have no idea why. I ask them and they basically tell me they have no idea why. They enjoy it. Sure. They enjoy gasping for one last breath and wondering if their knees can take another 3 feet? Personally, for exercise I use an elliptical. Low impact, tucked away in a room where no one sees me. Those outfits you where when you run? I'm sorry, just not attractive. Well, with a few exceptions. The local firefighters like to run a few miles everyday. Truthfully, anything looks good on them. But then I think, if I had to choose between the cyclists and the runners, who would it be? Tough one. There's one neighbor. I'm guessi

I'm trying to decide just when it was that people stopped calling me by my given name. It's as if one day, I simply became someone other than me. But I took on not just one other identity, rather an entire group of them. A boatload in fact. I am, at any given moment, Mom, Mommy, Maaaaaaah, hon, dear, hey you, that lady, his wife, Ms. Miller, so-and-so's mother, Betty's Neighbor, Veronica's friend, Reggie's cousin, Archie's sister....the list is endless. But rarely does anyone just say Mary. Which is of course my name. Mary's the one who used to blast Manic Monday on her Walkman as she threw on her tennis shoes at 7:42 am to run out the door to catch the 7:43 N train that didn't usually show up till 8. Mary's the one who used to walk fast and carry a big purse. Who understood that elevators were like changing stations for grown-ups. Who always had an excuse for being late for work. Who planned on single-handedly taking on the corporate giants an

OK. So it's Valentine's Day. I'm not a big fan of Valentines Day. It's only fun when you're in a relationship, or just starting one. When you are 15 and you get nothing, it sucks. When you're 21 and get nothing...sucks even more. Remember in Kindergarten, everyone got a valentine? And you gave one to everyone else in the class? Same for the first few years of school. Great tradition. But then, just when puberty sets in and you really need the boost, it stops. Suddenly your popularity is determined by the number of valentines you get. Girls...and boys...spend their teenage years hoping beyond hope that THIS Valentines Day, someone will pay attention. A secret admirer. A date to a dance. Just the rumor that someone is interested will do. But for so many, it's just a bust, year after year. There you sit, in front of that tearjerker chick flick on TV, hoping next year will be different. Or that the phone will ring at the last minute. How is it that we can allo

 I have three brothers. A Linguist. A Lawyer. A Social Worker/Academic. The linguist can travel the world and pretty much hold his own in conversation, thanks to his multi-lingual abilities. The Lawyer, like our father and grandfather before him, can travel the social and political circuit and pretty much hold his own in conversation, thanks to his persuasive powers. The Social Worker/Academic can migrate between both the hearing world and the deaf community, and pretty much hold his own in conversation, thanks to years of training and experience in the art of Bullshit. All three share some genetic codes, and some serious character flaws (a tad stubborn, a bit of an ego, and slightly overactive imaginations) but in many ways, they are completely different. Of course, as is the nature of brothers, they have each fought for supremacy in the family since they arrived on earth. So, in honor of my three brothers, the great communicators, here is a clipping from the New York Times, Decembe

Remember in Kindergarten, when they emphasized the Golden Rule? Do Unto Others and all that? I've noticed that with all the new open lines of communication, with social networking and blogging, and sharing every little thought, people may have forgotten that common courtesy. Think before you speak my grandmother used to tell me. It's actually a bit sad. That people would forget to be respectful, and mindful of what they say. I read an online column about the latest in social networking. The author bemoaning the fact that so many people he/she didn't know or care about were inundating him/her with useless information. Wow. I'm guessing those interlopers are none other than said author's Readers, Followers, Twitterers and Facebook Friends. Or were. Until they received that very public slap in the face. Common Courtesy. Respect. It's part of our social fabric. Without it, we lose just a touch of our humanity.  And in this case it is most definitely biting the han

There are a lot of really great things about living in the 21st century, but then, there's a lot of really sucky things. We know too much. Like you can't go to Jones Beach and slather on Baby Oil to get a tan. I can still remember the wonderful smells of sea salt and oil co-mingling in the air. Lying there with one eye open scoping out the guys...who were NOT wearing speedos. Thank god. Blaring your own personal portable radio (no headphones) while every other group on the sand did the same. Ronstadt on the left, Skynard on the right.  No cellphones. No iPods. Running up to the concession to find a pen to write down a phone number on the back of some guy's hand. Knowing they wouldn't call, but you waited by the phone anyway. Next time you ran into him, he'd say it got washed off. Nowadays you'd pull out your iPhone and run a background check first. Can't have a slice of Pizza and a Coke either. It's pretty much suicide food. Instead, try a healthy c

In my life, there have been one or two times that someone close to me has really stuck in the knife and twisted.... granted, I choose my friends wisely, and it doesn't happen often. But when it does, I'm not sure if I should be angry, or just feel foolish. I'm thinking angry. I like to be angry. Sometimes it just feels good to get a good rage going, as long as it stays under control, and stays internal. Give yourself a mental target for all of your current frustrations. And when someone takes advantage of my good-nature (yeah yeah, I know, slight exaggeration) it just steams me. And then of course they expect met to forgive and forget. And that's the problem. I've got a memory like an elephant. I may not remember what I ate for lunch, but I still remember the boy who uninvited me to a 6th grade boy-girl party. And I remember exactly why I'm still not talking to one of my bridesmaids. I remember exactly how methodically and deliberately one of my first employ

We all have them. Really bad days. Ones that seem to go from bad to worse. I had one today. It started when I was given the new revisionist version of American History. I didn't ask to hear it. I didn't even start the conversation. But it was a business associate who called about one thing or another, and I had no choice but to listen. She wanted to explain why America is in such a deep hole. It seems we have forgotten our roots. Apparently, and this is new information by the way, there were 7 original colonies. Yes, 7. Formed by those who wished to escape unfair  taxation in Britain. From there they grew and formed States, who eventually formed a Union of States, however, with no intention of having any Federal government.  Our Founding Fathers didn't want that. Hmmm. Oh really. The one-sided conversation continued on until I thought my head would explode. Might as well lock me in a room with Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin and Bubba OReilly. Next. Being that I am of course

So, like so many others, I watched the big game yesterday. Not for the football. I could care less who one. Well, not true. I cared who lost. I wanted one team to lose more than the other. I watched for two reasons. One, the half-time show. Fabulous to see really old rockers that still have the soul to keep going. Since they are way older than I am, makes me feel good. I saw them live in the early 1980's. 1982 I think. Best concert ever. Some of you reading this were there with me. But I digress. Back to the Ads. I watch them as everybody else does, though, admittedly, I've spent my entire career in Marketing. And yes, admittedly, I've written, edited and cast a few in my time. Nothing with this kind of budget, but some very high profile clients once in a while. It's been a long time since I've done anything in that arena. But I like to watch. See what kind of creativity is still out there. Techniques and technology have evolved to the point that they can and d

That's what her followers say. Yup. They hear her speak, follow her in the tabloids, and yawn through 59 minutes of world news and important stuff , just waiting for a possible soundbite. So, let's see how it is that she's an ordinary American, just like me? Not sure really. In her speech to the Tea Party (and that's a whole 'nother topic) she said (I'm quoting from CNN here) "How's that hope-y, change-y stuff working out for you?" Now, Dr Phil jokes aside, would I get up in front of a relatively large crowd and use words like "hope-y" or "change-y"? No, and I wouldn't use them in daily conversation with anyone except maybe a 6 month old. "Time to Change-y that stink-ey diaper," comes to mind. Hmmm. So going back to this large crowd of Tea Party conventioneers...sorry...attendees, that's how they converse? They want to take back America with toddler talk? Maybe! We the people aka Sarah Palin and friends,

As a liberal, I have to say I'm fed up with the Politically Correct police. I live in Tucson. There is rarely a conversation that doesn't include the word Mexican. But since when is that a derogatory term? It describes a person who either lives in or hails from Mexico. I don't see anyone getting dirty looks or condemnation for saying Canadian. Or British. Or Tazmanian. Or even Floridian. New Yorker. Texan. Andalucian. Aztec. But say the word Mexican, and suddenly you are Politically Incorrect. Latino. Hispanic. Southwestern. But never Mexican.  I'm thinking maybe those who cringe at it are the ones with a problem. When did being PC suddenly mean ignoring ethnicity. It should be celebrated. We are all different. Our ethnicity brings all kinds of color and taste and texture to our lives. So why are we supposed to ignore our differences? That's idiotic. Why don't we take the labels off our restaurants? The phone book would no longer categorize them. You'd hav

So I like to browse the online news sites. So here's a tidbit I really enjoyed. Puerto Rico military to help crime Really? I thought they might want to help FIGHT crime. REDUCE crime. But help it? OK, down to today's news. Tiger Woods is reportedly going to reappear on the scene at the Accenture Match Play. So while nobody is asking anyone's advice or opinions, it's certainly his decision, I'll offer up mine anyway. Tiger, please, don't do it. Because really, in all honesty, we don't want you here. And not because you are a philandering, adulterating, miscreant either. It's because our nice quiet neighborhood will become LaLa Land. Paparazzi from near and far will descend on our peaceful place. Our grocery store parking lot will turn into a circus. The traffic will come to a standstill on our main roadway. It'll take an hour to get to our favorite restaurant instead of just a few minutes. All so you can find a nice peaceful place to make your care

I think there should be a Facebook rule. Friend the people you know, and Unfriend those you don't. If you can't offer up one personal detail about someone in your FB circle of friends, they aren't a friend. Unfriend them. Now. No one has 697 friends. Or should. You need to review your list, one by one. For each, think of one relatively unknown, personal, preferably embarassing detail about that person without looking anything up. If nothing comes to mind, unfriend them. Please, people, get a grip. You don't need to have everyone on your page. It's absolutely idiotic. I'm not saying unfriend the people you know. I'm saying unfriend the people you don't. Technically, a friend is someone you know. Nuf said. I have exactly 100 friends on Facebook. Ok, let's subtract members of my egregiously large family. They can all be on your list and don't count in the "too many friends" category. They're family. They don't have to be fr

I did something last night that I am just now coming to terms with. And it is a very difficult thing to get a handle on. I watched Showbiz Tonight. The fact that it's on a CNN affiliate does not make it news, people. Really. Not the News. Not even close. First, we went through the Bradandgina thing. Bagerlina. Brandegina. Angina. Beyondagina. Beyondjz... It seems there's a new ruling couple in LaLa land, known to many of you who follow this stuff as Hollywood. All this because a woman named Beyoncé finally referred to her husband of two years as just that...her husband..in public no less. Seriously? This is news? I know it seems fascinating, but....I've been there. Attended a Red Carpet. Did the whole Smile and Wave thing. Really. We pulled up in Car #5 (they number them by the way, a very hush hush top secret kind of thing) and all these mobs on the sidewalk holding up cameras and waving (actual photo above) and trying to figure out who's in the car. So my husband

Why is it that somehow, during the evolutionary process, being civilized somehow became synonymous with quashing all your impulses. I mean, is it really necessary? Would society really deteriorate all that much if we actually gave in once in awhile? I'm not talking about the crazy impulses....the ones that might cause any harm to anyone. Just the routine, run-of-the mill, wouldn't it be great if we could....those kinds of impulses. Like trying on the crazy hat in the gift shop even though you look ridiculous.  Or every time I look out the window, the neighbor is a washing a car right there in front of his house. His car. His wife's car. The kids' cars. They don't even live at home any more, but they return every weekend and park in the reserved wash spot. So you think to yourself, what would happen if I parked my car there. Would they just automatically wash it? Where's the harm? They'd be beautifying the neighborhood! Ever have the urge to laugh at

Lists. We all have them. We all make them. Most of us never ever complete them. And then there are the lists you make for others. Ok, yeah, like your spouse. My husband's to-do list isn't very long. Not because he's particularly efficient at completing anything. It's just that he has this affliction known as List ADD . Or LADD as it's known here in wifedom.Whatever you need done, there's always something else that has to be done first. And if there isn't, he'll find something. Take today's super long list. One item. Go to bank and make deposit. 8am. "OK. Going to the bank now." 8:30 am. "Ok, going in just one minute." 9am. "Yeah, I'm leaving." 9:30 am "let me just fix this jumprope." Yep. Jumprope. He's fixing a jumprope. "Honey? The balance is down to $15. Do ya think you could get a move on?" So OK, my fault for putting it on the list, I should have known better. "Honey? Doesn