I am not a normal woman in this regard; I hate shopping for clothes. It's something I despise doing. Clothing designers, being the evil creatures they are, design clothes to fit women who are 6'4" and weigh anywhere from 95-105 lbs or Paris Hilton types. In other words, they design clothing for women who look like they just left Auschwitz. I don't know a single soul who is healthy and is actually as skinny as Hilton or a supermodel.
I am 5'2" and I weigh around 130-135 lbs. My pants size is usually an 8 or a 10. That is pretty darn normal. My size is average. I am pear shaped. Bootylicious is my middle name. I have an abundance of Junk In the Trunk. I remember some years back when everyone was making such a big deal about J-Lo's backside. I couldn't figure out what the fuss what about. J-Lo has nothing on me!
Summer is fast approaching and I need a few new pairs of capri pants. I have only one pair that I really love. They are wide-leg, mid to low rise and black cotton. They look great on. I bought 2 pair last summer, but one of them mysteriously acquired a bleach stain which rendered them garbage. By that time they were no longer available and thus I couldn't get a replacement. I went on a shopping excursion this week on a quest to find capri's. I found nothing but a great deal of disgust and annoyance at the fashion industry.
The problems is that most capri pants have a tapered leg. Now while I have no problem with my aforementioned caboose, I don't want to wear clothing which make it look larger than it is. Tapered legs on pants make the backside look BIG. A wide or straight leg makes everything look more in proportion. The same holds true whether it's capri pants or full length pants, slacks and jeans. Yet for some unknown reason the fashion industry is pushing "skinny" jeans-with a tapered leg. Why do women buy pants like that?! The only people that look good in "skinny" jeans are really skinny people with no ass to speak of.
Knee length, A-line skirts cut on the bias are the friends of everyone. I don't know anyone who doesn't look good in that kind of skirt. Yet it is near impossible to find one. I have a friend who made me a gorgeous skirt with 4 or 5 different blue and green batik fabrics. I get compliments every time I wear it. I've lost a few pounds since she made it, so it's a little big on me now and it still looks fantastic. Professional clothing designers refuse to make clothes like that. The malls are filled with ugly skirts that are either too long, too short, too tight or just plain ugly.
A few months ago I bought a pair of slacks in The Limited. I didn't even want to set foot in that store, but on a whim I went in and the first pair of slacks I tried on fit beautifully and the fabric felt good. Fantastic! They were more expensive than what I had planned on spending, but I gladly paid. I went back about a month ago and bought a second pair. I marched into the store and within 10 minutes I was out the door. (Including trying on the slacks and paying at the register.) That shopping experience was pretty darn painless! I don't think they have wide leg capri pants but I need to check.
I've shopped at cheap crappy stores and high end places. No matter where I go it's hard to find stuff that fits properly, is constructed well and with quality fabrics. I have no problem paying more for a garment if it fits and is going to last. I am not a fan of cheap and trendy clothes. Today I checked out the Saks 5th Avenue outlet in the big monstrosity of an outlet mall that is in the western end of our county. The fabrics were better, but the cuts were weird. It seems like almost every store I step into the fabrics look and feel like they will fall apart in the first wash.
About a week ago I bought a beautiful, hand made dress on eBay. It's made of hand dyed hemp and cotton fabric. It's a halter style with spaghetti straps that criss-cross and tie in the back and it fits like a dream. Interestingly enough, it's designed to fit a variety of sizes and yet it looks like it was made for me. The fabric is gorgeous. The woman who made it obviously takes great care with her art form. (Making clothing is an art form with people like her.) Color, line, texture, movement, value, space and shape were all given careful consideration in the construction of my dress. Based on the quality of the fabric and the construction I can only assume the dress is going to last a long time.
I am so frustrated with what is available in most stores and malls. I need to start buying more clothes from people like her. I'm kicking myself because I didn't buy a skirt she had listed for the past few days. I'm seriously considering commissioning her to make me a few custom pieces.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Harry Potter mania
I am a Harry Potter geek. I've read all the books thus far and I'm eagerly anticipating the release of book 7-"Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" this July. I usually go to the bookstore for the midnight release party to pick up each new installment. Also due out this summer, a week before the release of Deathly Hallows, is the 5th movie-"Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix". I'm all sorts of excited because I just saw the full trailer online. OotP wasn't one of my favorites, but I always suspected it would translate well to film. From what I saw in the trailer it looks very good.
I remember a few months back when they announced the release date of Deathly Hallows I called my husband and said, "It's going to be Christmas in JULY!!! The last Harry Potter book is coming out in July!" He said, "Ok." He is not a Harry Potter fan. That's ok, I love him anyway. I think he was rather amused at my reaction though.
Less than 3 months to go!
I remember a few months back when they announced the release date of Deathly Hallows I called my husband and said, "It's going to be Christmas in JULY!!! The last Harry Potter book is coming out in July!" He said, "Ok." He is not a Harry Potter fan. That's ok, I love him anyway. I think he was rather amused at my reaction though.
Less than 3 months to go!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Reflecting on January through the end of April
My goal for this year is to increase my gross income by 20%. That might sound like a lot but I actually think it's very realistic. It was a goal I set in December of 2005. At the time I set financial goals for 2 years. I hit my target goals for 2006 and thus far I'm on track for this year.
This morning I sat down and went over my records for the first 4 months of this year. Assuming I don't have any cancellations for this weekend, I am very happy to say that this April is the highest grossing month I've had in my 14 years in this business! A small voice in my head wants to run out and buy myself something to celebrate. But the rest of me, that is so very proud of this accomplishment, insists that for the next few months I must stash as much as possible in the bank. I would love to be able to pay all of my income and social security taxes for the year by the end of August or September. I don't know if that's possible, but if I can do that I will be thrilled!
After I had my son in December of 2002 business plummeted for me. In retrospect I think several things affected it. Part of it was the simple fact that I was a new mother; I didn't have as much time for work as I had the year before. Part of it was the economy. I also think part of it was my reliance, at the time, on other people handling my booking. I take full responsibility for the first and third factors. Having a child was something my husband and I chose to do. Reliance on other people handling my booking was something that I allowed to happen. I've learned from that experience. While I still work with an agent (on occasion a second one books me as well) I feel it's really important for me to take responsibility for what happens to my business and income.
I've been building my business back up for the past few years. Since 2005 I have done some major restructuring and I've raised my rates quite a bit over the past few years too. For 2006 I grossed almost the same amount that I grossed for 2002. It took me 4 years to build business back up to what it had been. I have a good friend who played a very big part in helping me do that. But still it would not have happened without my own hard work and dedication. I am proud of what I have accomplished so far! If I meet my goals for this year, for each of the next 2 years I want to increase my gross income by 10%.
In the middle of writing this I ran into the kitchen for a quick drink and noticed the paper bakery bag sitting on the table. I then reminded myself about the chocolate chip cookie I bought yesterday at Whole Foods on my way home from work. I absolutely love chocolate. This will be my celebratory cookie on a fantastic month of April! However, I think I will share it with my son when I pick him up from school in less than an hour. It's a big cookie and it will taste much better if I share it with him.
This morning I sat down and went over my records for the first 4 months of this year. Assuming I don't have any cancellations for this weekend, I am very happy to say that this April is the highest grossing month I've had in my 14 years in this business! A small voice in my head wants to run out and buy myself something to celebrate. But the rest of me, that is so very proud of this accomplishment, insists that for the next few months I must stash as much as possible in the bank. I would love to be able to pay all of my income and social security taxes for the year by the end of August or September. I don't know if that's possible, but if I can do that I will be thrilled!
After I had my son in December of 2002 business plummeted for me. In retrospect I think several things affected it. Part of it was the simple fact that I was a new mother; I didn't have as much time for work as I had the year before. Part of it was the economy. I also think part of it was my reliance, at the time, on other people handling my booking. I take full responsibility for the first and third factors. Having a child was something my husband and I chose to do. Reliance on other people handling my booking was something that I allowed to happen. I've learned from that experience. While I still work with an agent (on occasion a second one books me as well) I feel it's really important for me to take responsibility for what happens to my business and income.
I've been building my business back up for the past few years. Since 2005 I have done some major restructuring and I've raised my rates quite a bit over the past few years too. For 2006 I grossed almost the same amount that I grossed for 2002. It took me 4 years to build business back up to what it had been. I have a good friend who played a very big part in helping me do that. But still it would not have happened without my own hard work and dedication. I am proud of what I have accomplished so far! If I meet my goals for this year, for each of the next 2 years I want to increase my gross income by 10%.
In the middle of writing this I ran into the kitchen for a quick drink and noticed the paper bakery bag sitting on the table. I then reminded myself about the chocolate chip cookie I bought yesterday at Whole Foods on my way home from work. I absolutely love chocolate. This will be my celebratory cookie on a fantastic month of April! However, I think I will share it with my son when I pick him up from school in less than an hour. It's a big cookie and it will taste much better if I share it with him.
Friday, April 20, 2007
gossip from the biz
One of my friends (a fellow performer) emailed me pics of another local performer who had been sued on a court television show. My friend didn't recognize the person out of costume and was trying to figure out who it was. I identified the defendant almost immediately.
Apparently the performer booked one party and then booked a second party afterward that was about 45 miles away. There's nothing unusual about that in our area. I've had days where I've put over 150 miles on my car in one afternoon. Here's the kicker though, the 2nd gig was booked 15 minutes after the first one ended! It takes almost an hour on the highway to get from the first city to the second one.
I'll give a disclaimer right now; I didn't see the court tv show, any info I have on the case is secondhand. Of course the performer was running late. When the client called and left an irate message on the cellphone the performer didn't return the call and decided not to even show up. In addition they refused to refund the client's deposit-which is how they landed on a court tv show.
I'm trying to wrap my brain around the stupidity of the performer. But my brain just doesn't work like that. There is no logic to the situation. The only thing I can come up with is that the performer in question is either incredibly stupid-approaching the IQ of Forrest Gump and George W. Bush-or incredibly unscrupulous. (Or a combination of both.) I can almost accept that they possibly thought if they left the whole thing alone the client would simply forget about it. But once they received notice that they were being sued on court tv why didn't they just send back the deposit and wash their hands of the situation?
The whole thing is hysterical. I don't know how I'm going to keep a straight face the next time I see this performer.
Apparently the performer booked one party and then booked a second party afterward that was about 45 miles away. There's nothing unusual about that in our area. I've had days where I've put over 150 miles on my car in one afternoon. Here's the kicker though, the 2nd gig was booked 15 minutes after the first one ended! It takes almost an hour on the highway to get from the first city to the second one.
I'll give a disclaimer right now; I didn't see the court tv show, any info I have on the case is secondhand. Of course the performer was running late. When the client called and left an irate message on the cellphone the performer didn't return the call and decided not to even show up. In addition they refused to refund the client's deposit-which is how they landed on a court tv show.
I'm trying to wrap my brain around the stupidity of the performer. But my brain just doesn't work like that. There is no logic to the situation. The only thing I can come up with is that the performer in question is either incredibly stupid-approaching the IQ of Forrest Gump and George W. Bush-or incredibly unscrupulous. (Or a combination of both.) I can almost accept that they possibly thought if they left the whole thing alone the client would simply forget about it. But once they received notice that they were being sued on court tv why didn't they just send back the deposit and wash their hands of the situation?
The whole thing is hysterical. I don't know how I'm going to keep a straight face the next time I see this performer.
when one's favorite color is purple
I am not a particularly "girlie" girl. That is, when I'm not working I don't wear much makeup. My standard "uniform" on a daily basis consists of bummy t-shirts, jeans or shorts and Birkenstocks (I've been wearing this style for a few years now). I have always worn low maintenance hairstyles (with the exception of coloring once a month). If I happen to wear a skirt with one of my bummy t-shirts everyone thinks I'm all dressed up, never mind the fact that most of my skirts are just as casual as a pair of jeans. Dressed up for me is a slightly nicer skirt with a tank top or my regular jeans with a slightly nicer top, a drop of makeup and maybe earrings. Yeah, I know, earrings-ooh I'm a wild child! Everyone freaks when I wear makeup. "Is that...makeup... on your face?! Wow, you look great!" (I don't think I look that different with makeup on, but apparently other people don't share my point of view.)
My one exception was that for years I used to keep my toes painted. I used to give myself a pedicure about every 2 weeks. I used to be able to do a better French pedicure than most salons. Then I had a baby. I tried to keep up on my toes. But being a mother to a small child is a great deal of work. Somewhere along the way I lost my pedicure habit. I think it was right around the time that he started crawling. It's hard to give yourself a pedicure when your baby is trying to grab the bottle of polish out of your hand.
My heels and soles have been crying out for attention. So last night I sat down and soaked, scrubbed and lavished my feet and toes. I dropped something on the big toe of my left foot about a month ago and there is still a big dark spot under the nail that is growing out (it's either a bruise or clot) so I couldn't do French because it wouldn't have looked good. So I decided on a deep shade that is reminiscent of fine red wine.
While I gave myself a pedicure my now 4 year old son asked me to paint his toes pink. I have a bottle of purple polish though and purple is his favorite color. I'm not sure if I even have a bottle of pink. I've got a couple different shades of blue, various reds (I have one that I like to refer to as "Fuck Me" red because the color is very intense) I have a bronze color, a reddish-purple color and a few others-but I don't think I have pink. So I showed Little Man the purple and suggested it instead of pink. He was sold. He was thoroughly excited after I painted his toes. He exclaimed to my husband, "Daddy look-my toenails are PURPLE!!!" My husband and I thought it was really cute. But we are biased.
My one exception was that for years I used to keep my toes painted. I used to give myself a pedicure about every 2 weeks. I used to be able to do a better French pedicure than most salons. Then I had a baby. I tried to keep up on my toes. But being a mother to a small child is a great deal of work. Somewhere along the way I lost my pedicure habit. I think it was right around the time that he started crawling. It's hard to give yourself a pedicure when your baby is trying to grab the bottle of polish out of your hand.
My heels and soles have been crying out for attention. So last night I sat down and soaked, scrubbed and lavished my feet and toes. I dropped something on the big toe of my left foot about a month ago and there is still a big dark spot under the nail that is growing out (it's either a bruise or clot) so I couldn't do French because it wouldn't have looked good. So I decided on a deep shade that is reminiscent of fine red wine.
While I gave myself a pedicure my now 4 year old son asked me to paint his toes pink. I have a bottle of purple polish though and purple is his favorite color. I'm not sure if I even have a bottle of pink. I've got a couple different shades of blue, various reds (I have one that I like to refer to as "Fuck Me" red because the color is very intense) I have a bronze color, a reddish-purple color and a few others-but I don't think I have pink. So I showed Little Man the purple and suggested it instead of pink. He was sold. He was thoroughly excited after I painted his toes. He exclaimed to my husband, "Daddy look-my toenails are PURPLE!!!" My husband and I thought it was really cute. But we are biased.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Dude, it's not my fault
Alberto Gonzales testified before Congress today about the firing of 8 US Attorneys. (It's actually still on as I type this.) NPR, CSPAN and I would assume some of the other cable news networks covered his testimony all day. As I ran work related errands around town I periodically tuned into NPR to hear what was going on. I didn't listen to it consistently because it sounded like Gonzales was repeating himself over and over again all day. His excuses remind me of the ones my husbands students gave him when he taught middle school. "My friend said it was OK and I know he's always right." OK admittedly Gonzales didn't quite say that, but he wasn't far off from it. He's the head of our justice department. When the people under him screw up, ultimately he should be accountable.
Gonzales has dodged questions and spouted absolute baloney all day. He does not recall...he does recall...he can't be held responsible for such and such...he did his best. Give me a break! Is there no accountability in the Bush administration?! (I can't believe I just typed that. There is absolutely no accountability.) I don't see how Gonzales could possibly be allowed to remain as US Attorney General after his testimony today. He is saying a great deal of nothing and pissing off people including many Republicans.
Gonzales has dodged questions and spouted absolute baloney all day. He does not recall...he does recall...he can't be held responsible for such and such...he did his best. Give me a break! Is there no accountability in the Bush administration?! (I can't believe I just typed that. There is absolutely no accountability.) I don't see how Gonzales could possibly be allowed to remain as US Attorney General after his testimony today. He is saying a great deal of nothing and pissing off people including many Republicans.
Yet another Idol update
Admittedly I've only watched 2 episodes of American Idol this season. (For work...only for work!) Admittedly I can't stand the show. But there has been much talk in the media about one particular American Idiot. He can't sing for squat and a great deal of people have been voting for him simply because he is (was) the worst this season had to offer. Tonight he was booted from the show.
Yippie!
Yippie!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
My body, my choice...I guess not anymore
Today the Supreme Court upheld a ban on "Partial birth" abortions. This is depressing and frightening. Apparently I, a mere woman, am incapable of making educated and informed decisions about my own body. The court obviously doesn't trust my decision making abilities and have taken one option away from me. It's irrelevant whether or not I ever choose to actually have an abortion. As far as I'm concerned the human body should never be legislated. I supposed it's a good thing I have an IUD. Oh wait-next thing you know the Supreme Court will ban those too. Birth control pills will follow. (There are conservative, religious nuts who actually think birth control pills are abortives.)
My husband has said that he doesn't think the high court will ever overturn Roe vs. Wade. However once Alito and Roberts were appointed I have felt strongly that it's only a matter of time before that happens. Today's ruling is one big step in that direction. I have a feeling Roe vs. Wade will have to be overturned before the people of this country demand a Constitutional Amendment protecting a women's reproductive rights. I can only hope it will happen within my lifetime.
My husband has said that he doesn't think the high court will ever overturn Roe vs. Wade. However once Alito and Roberts were appointed I have felt strongly that it's only a matter of time before that happens. Today's ruling is one big step in that direction. I have a feeling Roe vs. Wade will have to be overturned before the people of this country demand a Constitutional Amendment protecting a women's reproductive rights. I can only hope it will happen within my lifetime.
Miscommunications galore
It really annoys me when scheduling conflicts arise. Preventing them is a top priority of mine. I do everything possible to avoid them. I maintain an online calendar and a full paper calendar as backup. I keep copies of every single contract I issue in the book that holds my calendar. I check and double check scheduling before booking. The people who I work with are as thorough (anal) as I am in regard to scheduling issues.
One has reared it's ugly head for this coming weekend. When I touched base with a client scheduled for Sunday, she informed me that her party is in fact on Saturday. I didn't book this, my friend, the agent did. The best that we can piece together is that it's the clients fault-she booked the wrong date and didn't read her contract. (Contracts are always issued based on the date the client provides. She signed the contract, agreeing to Sunday's date.) But you can't say to a client, "Sorry but you f***ed up." I am the only entertainer who performs the show she booked. (I'm the only one who offers it-I developed it.) So I had to get coverage for my Saturday gig to cover the client who was supposed to be on Sunday. It means that I loose out on some income for this weekend. It's not fair to me. It sucks. While I am rightfully annoyed, there is nothing I can do about it, except accomodate the client.
On the flip side, I booked a last minute gig for this coming Tuesday. So it will help make up for the loss of income from the Saturday gig.
One has reared it's ugly head for this coming weekend. When I touched base with a client scheduled for Sunday, she informed me that her party is in fact on Saturday. I didn't book this, my friend, the agent did. The best that we can piece together is that it's the clients fault-she booked the wrong date and didn't read her contract. (Contracts are always issued based on the date the client provides. She signed the contract, agreeing to Sunday's date.) But you can't say to a client, "Sorry but you f***ed up." I am the only entertainer who performs the show she booked. (I'm the only one who offers it-I developed it.) So I had to get coverage for my Saturday gig to cover the client who was supposed to be on Sunday. It means that I loose out on some income for this weekend. It's not fair to me. It sucks. While I am rightfully annoyed, there is nothing I can do about it, except accomodate the client.
On the flip side, I booked a last minute gig for this coming Tuesday. So it will help make up for the loss of income from the Saturday gig.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Noisy neighbors redux
A few weeks back I posted about some geese that are visiting us this winter. I saw them again this morning.
Aside from having a canal running next to our building, we are on a golf course. (My brother in law, avid golfer that he is, informed us we are on the 12th hole.) There is a little bridge which crosses the canal to get to the next hole. Immediately when you cross the bridge is an outhouse of sorts; a small building housing bathrooms for the golfers. This morning a member of the goose family was on the roof of the outhouse honking his/her brains out. I stepped out onto our patio to try to figure out what his problem was, when I saw his family crossing the bridge heading toward him. I grabbed my camera and ran out the door. Little Man was wondering what I was up to and my husband, in his half asleep state, made fun of me saying, "Quick, take pictures of the geese and then post them on your blog."
Once the other adults and the babies crossed the bridge they looked up at Mr. Goose (or Mrs. Goose) on top of the building as if to say, "We're not going up there. You come down here." He didn't come down so they headed back over the bridge.
I counted 3 adults; the one who was on top of the outhouse isn't in the pics. There are at least 7 goslings too. Unfortunately I never saw them when they were fuzzy babies. They are more like teenagers in the above pics. But I'm still glad I got them.
I looked up geese online, trying to figure out what kind they were. The best I can come up with is that they are Egyptian Geese. Ours look exactly like all the pics online that I have found of the aforementioned species.
Aside from having a canal running next to our building, we are on a golf course. (My brother in law, avid golfer that he is, informed us we are on the 12th hole.) There is a little bridge which crosses the canal to get to the next hole. Immediately when you cross the bridge is an outhouse of sorts; a small building housing bathrooms for the golfers. This morning a member of the goose family was on the roof of the outhouse honking his/her brains out. I stepped out onto our patio to try to figure out what his problem was, when I saw his family crossing the bridge heading toward him. I grabbed my camera and ran out the door. Little Man was wondering what I was up to and my husband, in his half asleep state, made fun of me saying, "Quick, take pictures of the geese and then post them on your blog."
Once the other adults and the babies crossed the bridge they looked up at Mr. Goose (or Mrs. Goose) on top of the building as if to say, "We're not going up there. You come down here." He didn't come down so they headed back over the bridge.
I counted 3 adults; the one who was on top of the outhouse isn't in the pics. There are at least 7 goslings too. Unfortunately I never saw them when they were fuzzy babies. They are more like teenagers in the above pics. But I'm still glad I got them.
I looked up geese online, trying to figure out what kind they were. The best I can come up with is that they are Egyptian Geese. Ours look exactly like all the pics online that I have found of the aforementioned species.
Friday, April 13, 2007
At the playground
A neighboring city completed a brand new aquatics complex this past fall. Summer is fast approaching and in the interest of gearing up for a hot summer, Little Man and I paid our first visit this afternoon. (Keep in mind, it's April in south Florida. In other places it's still snowing. But we are already sweating.) Aside from a big, normal pool that happens to have a really nice water slide, the complex features what they refer to as "Spray and Play". It's basically a playground plunked smack into a shallow pool of water, complete with all manner of things that spray water. It's bold, bright, colorful, safe and inviting.
The county built several parks featuring similar water playgrounds in recent years. This one is much closer to our home, it has the least expensive admission and it's the smallest-which is a good thing. It's big enough for Little Man to play and have lots of fun. But it's also small enough for us to be able to easily keep an eye on him even if we are not in the mood to get splashed by a bunch of crazy kiddos. Needless to say, I am impressed. We will most likely be spending a great deal of time there this summer.
Today's excursion got me thinking about the playground I frequented as a child. My old neighborhood public pool was big, boring and square shaped. The only interesting feature it had was a diving board...which I rarely gathered up the nerve to use. Walking across that board was, for me, akin to walking the plank. Except that the term "walking the plank" conjures up romantic images of pirates, treasure chests and swashbuckling. I like pirates and thanks to Disney's "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies, piracy is rather popular these days. I am however a coward when it comes to water and swimming. I was not a fan of the dreaded diving board. If I were ever to happen upon a band of rogue pirates, in reality "walking the plank" would terrify me. Today's modern water playgrounds didn't exist in my day.
Come to think of it, today's modern (non-water) playgrounds didn't exist in my day. Our favorite neighborhood parks for Little Man are like the water playgrounds; bold, bright, colorful, safe and inviting. The nicest ones have awnings to shade from the overly bright Florida sun. They have rubberized flooring; the better to avoid scrapped knees, elbows and hands. They feature colorful metal and plastic surfaces with no sharp edges or corners. They look fun. They say, "Come and play!" Parents sitting off to the side can easily see their kids as they move through the play structures.
The neighborhood playground I grew up on was the polar opposite of today's playgrounds. It was not colorful or safe. But it was inviting. It's call was different. It said, "Come explore! Travel to far off lands and exciting new places." I so wish I had a photograph of it, but unfortunately I do not. My husband grew up in a neighboring community and played there often (we never met as children), so I asked him if he remembered how big it was.
It was a concrete structure sculpted from bags of cement. It was the color of cement; that is, it was gray. Dirt and other dark stuff collected in all the cracks and crevices, which actually gave it a beautiful patina. In terms of aesthetics it was a wondrous and huge organic sculpture. It had lovely textures and visual movement. It was a work of art. It was beautiful in a way that modern playgrounds couldn't approach.
We thought of it as a mountain. When you are a small child your view of the world is very different than that of an adult. So what seemed mammoth and vast to me as a child, probably wasn't all that big in reality. Unfortunately it's very difficult for me to gauge the size of something that no longer exists. My husband and I suspect it was close to 2 stories high, give or take a few feet.
It had asphalt pathways meandering through it. It had nooks and crannies galore, along with a length of metal (probably steel) monkey bars that must have been a good 7 or 8 feet off the ground and a long metal slide (again probably steel) that ran from the tip top of the structure down into the sandpit below. During the height of summer heat I'm sure one could have fried an egg on that slide. It certainly fried my butt and the back of my legs a number of times. There were a few areas that had cement walls; it was rumored that years before there had been tunnels, which had been blocked up by said walls. As a child I remember wondering why on earth anyone would be stupid enough to block up tunnels in such a wonderful place. A tunnel would be fun to hide in!
Being a concrete structure it was not kind to small knees, elbows and any manner of fleshy parts. I scrapped myself up countless times playing there. It was surrounded by a moat of sand which had several small islands (2 sets of swings and a mini-slide for the "babies"). In our world of play that mountain was a far off planet, a castle, a pirate ship, any number of wondrous and exotic places. King Kong lived on our mountain. The sand under the monkey bars contained dragons, sharks, alligators, any manner of fantastical beasts. Sometimes it became a game; one kid would cross the bars and below some of us would jump up trying to catch him or her. If you were crossing the monkey bars you did NOT want to fall in.
I grew up at a time when I could safely hop on my bike Saturday morning and wave goodbye to my mom and we had the mutual unspoken knowledge that we would see each other again in a few hours. My mom had no way of contacting me and conversely I couldn't contact her, until I got home. I would never in a million years allow my son to do that. I can't allow it. His world is not the same world I grew up in. I was 8 years old when the Adam Walsh case broke the news. But back then the incident was, for the most part, considered completely out of the ordinary. Today you simply cannot allow your kids to wander off by themselves. Not in a world where kids disappear much more frequently and Amber Alerts are becoming depressingly commonplace.
A client of mine had a birthday party at my old park a few years ago. When I arrived I was stunned and heartbroken to see that my cement mountain was gone. In it's place is a shiny, colorful and modern play structure. But as an adult I know that mountain must have been a litigious nightmare. Aside from the fact that concrete is just not a kind surface for small children to play on, all those nooks and crannies were great hiding places. Thankfully nothing bad ever happened to me there, but I can only imagine that they could have been very inviting to someone with dark intentions. There was a neighborhood guy who always made my mental radar scream with bright red lights and sirens. (DANGER!!!) No one ever told me to stay away from him, I just knew. Sometimes he came to hang out at our park. If I ever saw him heading in our direction I left. That was years before I ever heard the term "pedophile". I knew to stay away from him; that he was not safe.
As an adult I lament that my son won't have a magical and fantastical place like that. He won't have the opportunities that we had to be able to create his own world like that either. He will never be able to disappear out the front door the way we did as kids. His manner of play will be very different from what mine was. I can console myself with the knowledge that my husband and I play with him very differently than our parents played with us. Our parents didn't play with us. They just sent us on our way without the concerns or worries we have now.
The county built several parks featuring similar water playgrounds in recent years. This one is much closer to our home, it has the least expensive admission and it's the smallest-which is a good thing. It's big enough for Little Man to play and have lots of fun. But it's also small enough for us to be able to easily keep an eye on him even if we are not in the mood to get splashed by a bunch of crazy kiddos. Needless to say, I am impressed. We will most likely be spending a great deal of time there this summer.
Today's excursion got me thinking about the playground I frequented as a child. My old neighborhood public pool was big, boring and square shaped. The only interesting feature it had was a diving board...which I rarely gathered up the nerve to use. Walking across that board was, for me, akin to walking the plank. Except that the term "walking the plank" conjures up romantic images of pirates, treasure chests and swashbuckling. I like pirates and thanks to Disney's "Pirates of the Caribbean" movies, piracy is rather popular these days. I am however a coward when it comes to water and swimming. I was not a fan of the dreaded diving board. If I were ever to happen upon a band of rogue pirates, in reality "walking the plank" would terrify me. Today's modern water playgrounds didn't exist in my day.
Come to think of it, today's modern (non-water) playgrounds didn't exist in my day. Our favorite neighborhood parks for Little Man are like the water playgrounds; bold, bright, colorful, safe and inviting. The nicest ones have awnings to shade from the overly bright Florida sun. They have rubberized flooring; the better to avoid scrapped knees, elbows and hands. They feature colorful metal and plastic surfaces with no sharp edges or corners. They look fun. They say, "Come and play!" Parents sitting off to the side can easily see their kids as they move through the play structures.
The neighborhood playground I grew up on was the polar opposite of today's playgrounds. It was not colorful or safe. But it was inviting. It's call was different. It said, "Come explore! Travel to far off lands and exciting new places." I so wish I had a photograph of it, but unfortunately I do not. My husband grew up in a neighboring community and played there often (we never met as children), so I asked him if he remembered how big it was.
It was a concrete structure sculpted from bags of cement. It was the color of cement; that is, it was gray. Dirt and other dark stuff collected in all the cracks and crevices, which actually gave it a beautiful patina. In terms of aesthetics it was a wondrous and huge organic sculpture. It had lovely textures and visual movement. It was a work of art. It was beautiful in a way that modern playgrounds couldn't approach.
We thought of it as a mountain. When you are a small child your view of the world is very different than that of an adult. So what seemed mammoth and vast to me as a child, probably wasn't all that big in reality. Unfortunately it's very difficult for me to gauge the size of something that no longer exists. My husband and I suspect it was close to 2 stories high, give or take a few feet.
It had asphalt pathways meandering through it. It had nooks and crannies galore, along with a length of metal (probably steel) monkey bars that must have been a good 7 or 8 feet off the ground and a long metal slide (again probably steel) that ran from the tip top of the structure down into the sandpit below. During the height of summer heat I'm sure one could have fried an egg on that slide. It certainly fried my butt and the back of my legs a number of times. There were a few areas that had cement walls; it was rumored that years before there had been tunnels, which had been blocked up by said walls. As a child I remember wondering why on earth anyone would be stupid enough to block up tunnels in such a wonderful place. A tunnel would be fun to hide in!
Being a concrete structure it was not kind to small knees, elbows and any manner of fleshy parts. I scrapped myself up countless times playing there. It was surrounded by a moat of sand which had several small islands (2 sets of swings and a mini-slide for the "babies"). In our world of play that mountain was a far off planet, a castle, a pirate ship, any number of wondrous and exotic places. King Kong lived on our mountain. The sand under the monkey bars contained dragons, sharks, alligators, any manner of fantastical beasts. Sometimes it became a game; one kid would cross the bars and below some of us would jump up trying to catch him or her. If you were crossing the monkey bars you did NOT want to fall in.
I grew up at a time when I could safely hop on my bike Saturday morning and wave goodbye to my mom and we had the mutual unspoken knowledge that we would see each other again in a few hours. My mom had no way of contacting me and conversely I couldn't contact her, until I got home. I would never in a million years allow my son to do that. I can't allow it. His world is not the same world I grew up in. I was 8 years old when the Adam Walsh case broke the news. But back then the incident was, for the most part, considered completely out of the ordinary. Today you simply cannot allow your kids to wander off by themselves. Not in a world where kids disappear much more frequently and Amber Alerts are becoming depressingly commonplace.
A client of mine had a birthday party at my old park a few years ago. When I arrived I was stunned and heartbroken to see that my cement mountain was gone. In it's place is a shiny, colorful and modern play structure. But as an adult I know that mountain must have been a litigious nightmare. Aside from the fact that concrete is just not a kind surface for small children to play on, all those nooks and crannies were great hiding places. Thankfully nothing bad ever happened to me there, but I can only imagine that they could have been very inviting to someone with dark intentions. There was a neighborhood guy who always made my mental radar scream with bright red lights and sirens. (DANGER!!!) No one ever told me to stay away from him, I just knew. Sometimes he came to hang out at our park. If I ever saw him heading in our direction I left. That was years before I ever heard the term "pedophile". I knew to stay away from him; that he was not safe.
As an adult I lament that my son won't have a magical and fantastical place like that. He won't have the opportunities that we had to be able to create his own world like that either. He will never be able to disappear out the front door the way we did as kids. His manner of play will be very different from what mine was. I can console myself with the knowledge that my husband and I play with him very differently than our parents played with us. Our parents didn't play with us. They just sent us on our way without the concerns or worries we have now.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
SPAM!
Lately Spam has been the bane of my existence. I have been deluged with the dreaded stuff. It's everywhere. Somehow one of my Yahoo addresses was added to an obnoxious and evil spamming email list. I successfully opted out of that and I think I have that addy under control for the most part. I'm still getting bushels of it through my website email addresses. I'm also getting it through online groups I participate in.
I am recalling an episode from the Dave Chappell show where they did a skit about the internet. The basic premise explored what the internet would be like if it were a real place in the physical world. In the skit the it was much like a typical shopping mall, with some unusual elements; weird pop ups trying to sell Viagra and other male sexual aids, "Want to make your penis 2 inches longer?" Even Ron Jeremy had a cameo as a purveyor of porn. (Ron Jeremy-ewww! Although I have to give credit where credit is due; they could not have cast that part better.) Spam and pop ups were portrayed in similar veins if I remember correctly.
In the interest of trying to find something about Spam to make me laugh as an alternative to blowing up my computer with a Molotov Cocktail or simply chucking it out the window, it occurred to me that I've never actually seen the infamous Monty Python skit. I found it on You Tube. (Gotta love Monty Python!!!) I had to include it here.
I am recalling an episode from the Dave Chappell show where they did a skit about the internet. The basic premise explored what the internet would be like if it were a real place in the physical world. In the skit the it was much like a typical shopping mall, with some unusual elements; weird pop ups trying to sell Viagra and other male sexual aids, "Want to make your penis 2 inches longer?" Even Ron Jeremy had a cameo as a purveyor of porn. (Ron Jeremy-ewww! Although I have to give credit where credit is due; they could not have cast that part better.) Spam and pop ups were portrayed in similar veins if I remember correctly.
In the interest of trying to find something about Spam to make me laugh as an alternative to blowing up my computer with a Molotov Cocktail or simply chucking it out the window, it occurred to me that I've never actually seen the infamous Monty Python skit. I found it on You Tube. (Gotta love Monty Python!!!) I had to include it here.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Dangerous approach to teaching history
I discovered this article today and I find it particularly disturbing. After the jump the article links to a Daily Mail article discussing how some U.K. schools are avoiding teaching about the holocaust for fear of offending Muslim students who might be holocaust deniers. They are concerned about inciting anti-Semitic responses. What about offending the Jews who's history is being denied? It's anti-Semitic to NOT teach the holocaust. It gives credibility to deniers. They are also starting to avoid teaching about the crusades for fear of offending religious groups who might view a balanced look at the topic as conflicting with the teachings of their denominations.
History is not politically correct. To teach it from that perspective is dangerous. We don't have that luxury. The whole point of teaching controversial topics like the holocaust and the crusades is to avoid history repeating itself. The classroom is NOT a place for censorship, regardless of who you might offend.
My grandparents fled Europe because of religious persecution. In the early part of the 20th century Poland and Russia were not particularly kind to Jews. My grandpa would be furious about what that article is saying and the implications it could have on the next generation.
History is not politically correct. To teach it from that perspective is dangerous. We don't have that luxury. The whole point of teaching controversial topics like the holocaust and the crusades is to avoid history repeating itself. The classroom is NOT a place for censorship, regardless of who you might offend.
My grandparents fled Europe because of religious persecution. In the early part of the 20th century Poland and Russia were not particularly kind to Jews. My grandpa would be furious about what that article is saying and the implications it could have on the next generation.
Monday, April 2, 2007
The disaster area that is my home office
I desperately need to completely purge and reorganize my home office. It needs to be done. I am afraid of the task. I approached natural childbirth (after much research I made the educated decision to birth at home with a midwife) with considerably less fear or trepidation than I now face what awaits me in this room. I am actually in the room typing this-I just mentally block out the mess.
I had no qualms about childbirth; I knew in my heart it was something I was totally capable of. I know that goes against cultural norms. My beliefs on pregnancy and childbirth are decidedly outside of the mainstream. You couldn't drag me kicking and screaming into a hospital to give birth. Epidural? No, I like my spinal cord just the way it is thank you very much. Narcotics? No, I would like my baby's heart rate and breathing to be normal and healthy thank you very much. IV? Absolutely not. Labor flat on my back in a hospital bed? Are you joking?! That makes it hurt far more than squatting or sitting on all fours! C-section? Fuck that! Keep your knives away from my body!!! No, I will not keep my mouth shut and stay quiet like a good, complaisant little girl and blindly accept whatever baloney you tell me! I am capable of thinking for myself.
Pregnancy and childbirth are not diseases to be treated and controlled. They are normal and healthy functions of a female body. Yes childbirth was painful (it was also incredibly intense, beautiful and empowering). I handled it just fine without anyone poking, prodding or interfering with my body. I am a complete wuss too. I have a pathetic, almost non-existent, threshold for pain. I am not particularly brave or a hero. If I can handle natural childbirth anyone can. I am all too aware that a majority of American women would think I am a freak.
Pregnancy and natural childbirth? Piece of cake! Yet I am terrified about the prospect of cleaning out this room! I have to bring our stuff to our accountant to get our taxes done. It was a nightmare finding everything in this room. We did find it and I am ready to bring everything in. But, Oh-My-Gosh!!! At one point I couldn't find my husbands W-2 form. I was actually able to find all of my stuff just fine-that was the easy part because I knew where it was. In this mess I had no problem finding my 1099's. I didn't know where his stuff was though. I went in the master bathroom, turned off the light and cried in the dark. So I know it's reached a point that I actually have to face this mess and get it cleaned up.
I have Saturday off right now. If I were smart I would clean everything out this week and then bring in the big guns on Saturday to organize everything. The big guns being my physically diminutive mother (she's about 4'10" tall). She missed her calling. She should have set out to become a professional organizer. She is a demon when it comes to organizing things. This office is so far gone I don't know what to do with it. If I can just clean out the clutter and papers that need to be dumped in the garbage, she would take one look in here and be able to see exactly what to do with everything. Unfortunately the papers are the worst of the mess. They are what scare me the most about this room. In addition I swear they multiply and breed! Frankly I'm surprised I don't have nightmares about the papers chasing me.
I had no qualms about childbirth; I knew in my heart it was something I was totally capable of. I know that goes against cultural norms. My beliefs on pregnancy and childbirth are decidedly outside of the mainstream. You couldn't drag me kicking and screaming into a hospital to give birth. Epidural? No, I like my spinal cord just the way it is thank you very much. Narcotics? No, I would like my baby's heart rate and breathing to be normal and healthy thank you very much. IV? Absolutely not. Labor flat on my back in a hospital bed? Are you joking?! That makes it hurt far more than squatting or sitting on all fours! C-section? Fuck that! Keep your knives away from my body!!! No, I will not keep my mouth shut and stay quiet like a good, complaisant little girl and blindly accept whatever baloney you tell me! I am capable of thinking for myself.
Pregnancy and childbirth are not diseases to be treated and controlled. They are normal and healthy functions of a female body. Yes childbirth was painful (it was also incredibly intense, beautiful and empowering). I handled it just fine without anyone poking, prodding or interfering with my body. I am a complete wuss too. I have a pathetic, almost non-existent, threshold for pain. I am not particularly brave or a hero. If I can handle natural childbirth anyone can. I am all too aware that a majority of American women would think I am a freak.
Pregnancy and natural childbirth? Piece of cake! Yet I am terrified about the prospect of cleaning out this room! I have to bring our stuff to our accountant to get our taxes done. It was a nightmare finding everything in this room. We did find it and I am ready to bring everything in. But, Oh-My-Gosh!!! At one point I couldn't find my husbands W-2 form. I was actually able to find all of my stuff just fine-that was the easy part because I knew where it was. In this mess I had no problem finding my 1099's. I didn't know where his stuff was though. I went in the master bathroom, turned off the light and cried in the dark. So I know it's reached a point that I actually have to face this mess and get it cleaned up.
I have Saturday off right now. If I were smart I would clean everything out this week and then bring in the big guns on Saturday to organize everything. The big guns being my physically diminutive mother (she's about 4'10" tall). She missed her calling. She should have set out to become a professional organizer. She is a demon when it comes to organizing things. This office is so far gone I don't know what to do with it. If I can just clean out the clutter and papers that need to be dumped in the garbage, she would take one look in here and be able to see exactly what to do with everything. Unfortunately the papers are the worst of the mess. They are what scare me the most about this room. In addition I swear they multiply and breed! Frankly I'm surprised I don't have nightmares about the papers chasing me.
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