Friday night Fireworks

We ended the summer with a bang and a boom of fireworks. The night started simply: some good tunes from Amigo’s favorite radio station on their highly decorated and LOUD truck.

                                    …play something country!

We did what they say on the ads; we enjoyed the fun, and stayed for the game. Peanuts, funnel cake, refreshing beverages – and a dancing umpire?

                             When all else fails, dance!

                No fowl, er, foul here!

This was a visiting mascot, too, that we’ve never seen before. Fang, we think, had a broken, um, er, tail.

                                                          Can you see it? 

Here’s a closer look.

Really. What kind of a doctor handles mascot injuries? Who will put the spring back in Fang’s tail? And why are those people dressed like burgers? Never mind. Just watch the game, and enjoy the fireworks afterward.

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Being a Woman

I almost posted a quiz – a list of feminist slogans and quotes along with a list of years, with an opportunity for readers to match the two. Instead, I offer you an chance to reminisce about creativity in the feminist movement. Remember the Barbie Liberation League? In the 1990s….Grandma Daisy does this sort of storytelling best, so here she is.

Oh, children, your world is different, thank goodness. I lived through a fascinating and yet difficult time we called the Women’s Movement, or Women’s Liberation, Women’s Lib for short. We reminded lawmakers and voters that we are people, endowed with basic human rights along with our, ahem, voluptuous figures. To put it bluntly, we didn’t need balls to make good decisions about …. oh, your mother is listening. I can’t say that in front of you young ones., so back to the history behind the story. We had rallies, we held demonstrations. We ran for office ourselves instead of waiting for men to take care of our needs. We worked to pass laws that protected our right to make health care decisions.We built awareness of the importance of birth control and how much that birth control meant for our freedom, our liberation. We fought for equal pay for equal work. Laws passed, medications improved, but attitudes were harder to change. 

Sometimes women got creative to make a point. The Barbie Liberation League was one such example. We females were determined to be good students and make it “cool” to be smart. Math and science were supposedly men’s territory, so girls had some catching up to do. Adult role models like teachers and nurses pushed us young ones to go farther, higher, faster into the world of advanced math and sciences. 

Barbie dolls. You know the doll, right? Of course. They’re at the bottom of your sister’s closet with the rubber ducky and the worn out blankie she won’t throw away. Barbie, the doll with the unrealistic figure (39-21-33 at 6 feet tall were the proportional measurements, if you’re into trivia) was a favorite of many young girls. Girls knew she wasn’t realistic, but some tried too hard to look like her and became anorexic. A doll for a role model? Well, it happens.

When the Talking Teen Barbie came out, she had a limited vocabulary. Unfortunately, the people who programmed and recorded Barbie’s phrases had been in a fog throughout the entire women’s movement. Take a look at these examples.

Will we ever have enough clothes?

I love shopping!

Math class is tough.

Wanna have a pizza party?

In the old toy store aisles, G.I. Joe was a parallel type of doll, er, action figure, on the little boy side. His vocabulary was macho and tough – what they called “all male” back then. 

This is going to be rough. Can you handle it?

I’ve got a tough assignment for you!

Mission accomplished. Good work, men!

The Barbie Liberation League took action. They bought Talking Barbie and Talking G.I. Joe from toy stores, swapped out the voice boxes, and then repackaged the dolls and returned them to the stores. Little boys and little girls got Barbies that said, “Vengeance is mine!” and G.I. Joes that suggested, “Let’s plan our dream wedding.” When Joe proclaimed “Math class is tough”, it sounded ludicrous.

Well, darlings, that was the point. If a man couldn’t say it without sounding idiotic, why should a woman repeat that phrase and internalize that philosophy? Talking Barbie wasn’t pulled off the market, but the feminists and the Barbie Liberation League had made their point. Being female didn’t mean being less intelligent. It still doesn’t. 

Anyway , my grand-precious ones, some day I’ll tell you what we did when the guys at our college claimed that women couldn’t play jazz. Hah! We showed them, all right. Now go practice your trombone, and I’ll tell you that story later. 

 

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Beware of Birds!

It was a bright and windy day, not a dark and stormy night. I came outside and found the deck umbrella had gone for a field trip. Wheeee!

upside down, but not inside out

Unfortunately, it was in the path of a neighbor – one with feathers and a beak. This neighborly critter left its mark.

                                                         Yep, there it is.

What — You were expecting gang graffiti?

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A Woman’s Place

Dear Hillary (Clinton, naturally;);

I admire your work as Secretary of State. Heck, I’ve admired you since you refused to sit home and take a supporting role to your governor husband! Bake cookies and host teas? Only if it’s a house party to support my favorite candidate, and then I’m willing. But back on topic, I understand your decision not to run for president again. Let me know when you choose to mentor a successor: I’ll be there to support her and vote for her. Woman, you are amazing.

— Still a Feminist after all these years

Dear Paul (Ryan, of course);

I am a person. When you draft a bill you call “personhood”, remember that women are people, too.

— Firmly Female

Dear Mitt (Romney – are there any others?);

You’ve established a history as one who looks down on others who are not like you, whether that difference be long hair or blindness. You’ve also established that you did not respect teachers, even those who taught you. Well, Mitt, I am hearing impaired and a teacher. In order to get my vote, you’ll need to show that you do, after all, respect teachers and people with disabilities. I wear my hair long, too. I hope that’s not a problem.

— Daring to be Different

Dear Entrepreneurs;

When I was growing up, I saw a tee shirt that proclaimed “A woman’s place is in the House — and the Senate.” Add the White House to this design, and you’ll have a winner.

— A Potential Investor

Dear Mr. President;

Thank you for recognizing the complexity of the health care labyrinth in the United States and taking the first steps to make that care more accessible to all.

To your good health; Daisy

Hey Rush;

You, sir, have less of a brain than the Scarecrow of Oz. At least he did a great deal of thinking. I’m not sure you think at all. On the other hand, I’m sure you don’t.

Dorothy

Dear Todd (Akin, that is);

Are you serious? Where were you in biology class? First year health? Please drop off the House Science committee. You obviously weren’t in class when you needed to learn the basics.

– Teacher of Tomorrow’s Electorate

Dear Tammy (Baldwin);

I remember when you first ran for Congress and I wished you represented my district. Now you’re running for Senate, and I’m excited and energized at the possibilities. After meeting you, I’m even more impressed. I’ll continue to support your Senate race in any way I can.

-Wowed in Wisconsin

Dear Isaac;

Thanks for demonstrating to the G.O.P. that no matter how much money they spend, they cannot change the weather.

— Blowin’ in the Wind

Dear President Obama (I still love hearing that title!);

Thank you for publicly stating that you want the same opportunities for your daughters as anyone would for their sons. You set a prime example by installing Hillary Clinton as Secretary of State. I would expect no less from the leader of the free world.

Daisy, a Dedicated Democrat

 

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Across the Nation

In my travels, both real and virtual, I see many visual messages. From the Southeast to Midwest, join me on my journey.

In Tampa, Florida, the locals welcome the Republican convention.

 

From the Milwaukee area, I bring you The Overpass Light Brigade: brilliant.

From a nearby parking lot, on the bumper of an original VW Beetle:

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

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More reasons why I enjoy my students

Actual answer on test (the question doesn’t matter):

I did what it says in the book like how your supposed to but My answer or thought may or is wrong. The median is the middle whisch is 6and hte mode is the number?

Later a sixth grader signed his email to me thanking me for my patience with him –

Thanks for your help! Sensory, C.J.

Sensory. Sincerely. Sure, I can see why he was confused. Or at least why his spell check didn’t get it. Maybe.

Teachers go back to work next Monday in my district. I’m looking forward to meeting my new students and their families and – oh, it feels great to be looking forward to the school year starting!

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Oops.

Note to self: keep an eye on Chuck when he borrows the camera.

Hmm. Think, think, think.

Someone had to take the time to program this message above the unused baggage return. I guess leaving it blank might confuse the customers. Maybe. Or maybe some worker has too much time on his/her hands? Not likely.

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Tell me again, how does the female body work?

I couldn’t believe the baby aspirin between the knees method of birth control made headlines last year.

Now I can’t believe the idiocy of Representative Tod Akin, Republican from Missouri and candidate for Senate. He claimed the following:

First of all, from what I understand from doctors, (pregnancy from rape) is really rare. If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down.

What the hell??!!

Does this man talk to real doctors, MDs, professionals who really know how a woman’s body works? Did this man talk to sexual assault counselors?  Does he know what rape means? Did he pay attention in middle school when the science and health teacher taught how fertilization occurs?

I’m appalled that Mr. Akin would believe such a falsehood, much less attribute it to medical professionals and state it as truth.

I’m even more appalled that people might trust him and agree with this woefully inadequate piece of playground gossip.

I’m still more appalled that ignorant voters might decide to vote for lawmakers who believe that a woman can “shut down” her reproductive organs and somehow resist pregnancy when she is being attacked.

Republican leaders are distancing themselves from this horrific statement and the man who made it. But listen up, women: VP Paul Ryan was one of 200 cosponsors of the “personhood” bill that would outlaw birth control pills and narrowly define the term “rape.” Mitt Romney wants to completely eliminate federal funding for Planned Parenthood. These two candidates are dangerous.

I want my health to be a discussion between my doctor and me. No one in Congress need get in the middle. If Tod Akin is any example, many in the Republican Party didn’t pay enough attention in school to understand how pregnancy occurs, and they certainly can’t comprehend or define the term “rape.”

Women, we can’t stay silent. Speak up, educate, and above all, vote. A woman’s vote still counts the same as a man’s.

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Dear Amtrak; Customer service is on the wrong track.

Dear Amtrak;

You goofed. You made a mistake, and the resolution was far from satisfactory. In fact, it stunk. We found another way around, but it meant solving the trouble ourselves by… well, let’s start at the beginning.

We made reservations as a disabled person traveling with companion, and we asked for roomettes across from each other. The reservations were rooms 7 & 8. We checked in at the Denver station and confirmed our reservation: car number 632, roomettes 7 and 8.

Luggage checked in, ready to board, we approached the car attendant with our tickets. “We’re in 7 and 8,” we showed him. He looked concerned, almost panicky. “Um, you can have 8, but there’s someone in 7. I’ll have to talk to the conductor.”

Amtrak, we reserved roomettes together to be near our son, who is blind and has Asperger’s Syndrome, a high-functioning disorder on the autism spectrum. If he needed help at any time, including at night, he could simply knock on our door (Hence the “companion” role).

We dropped our gear in Amigo’s roomette, number 8, and went to supper. Chuck and I were very upset, and Amigo was beside himself with worry – so much so that he couldn’t eat. Chuck took Amigo back to the car early, and I settled up the bill.

The car attendant and conductor had placed us at the end of the car in one of the larger bedroom units. Maybe they thought the upgrade would mollify us; it didn’t. We needed, really needed, to be near Amigo. The distance between our rooms was not acceptable. Not at all.

We felt like bad parents accepting this poor alternative. We worried about his safety and his state of mind. Would he be able to find us if he needed help? He had his cell phone, but crossing the plains as the route did, phone signals were not guaranteed. Could he find the bathroom on his own? If you’ve ever been on a sleeper car, you know how much alike the corridor appears to a sighted person. Now try it blind.

Chuck bumped into the current resident of room 7 and got his courage up to ask the man if he would be willing to trade rooms for the night. He explained the situation, and the man (grudgingly) said yes. We switched, moving all of our gear to 7 and helping him migrate to the larger bedroom at the end of the hall. We informed the car attendant that we’d traded spaces, and all of us began to settle down for the night.

Amtrak folks, Chuck and I have ridden the rails in the past. We’ve enjoyed our trips and usually had service that ranged from good to excellent. This time, the situation was far below “good” level. There were other issues, too:

  • the dining car kept running out of food.
  • lunch menu was heavily abbreviated
  • coffee in the sleeper car was stale and even smelled burned
  • ice water in the car was empty, and bottled water unavailable.
  • Chuck had to change over our beds in the morning; the car attendant didn’t.
  • We requested a newspaper; Chuck found one for us, since the car attendant didn’t do this, either.
  • I couldn’t access the wifi on board. I gave up. By this time, making an effort was beyond my limits.

All of these smaller irritations might have been easier to handle had we not been overwhelmed by the room problem. Amtrak, what happened? How will you make sure no other family encounters the same problems we did?

The boys in profile, playing cribbage in Roomette #8

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Fortunately – Unfortunately

We’re home! We’re back in our routines, including meeting with friends and going to the farm markets. Fortunately, there is a mid-week market in the grocery store parking lot on Wednesdays.

I’m not growing zucchini this year. Can you tell?

Unfortunately, Chuck thought I went overboard.

Fortunately, I have good recipes for zucchini bread and zucchini cookies.

I met a friend for coffee. Unfortunately, I ran late. Fortunately, I found a great parking place and we had delicious coffee as we worked.

                                                            Lovely, tasty beverage!

Fortunately, I donated zucchini bread when I did a little volunteer work for the Obama campaign.

Unfortunately, I didn’t plug the meter with enough change.

                                                A $5 Ticket!$@#^!

I dropped off the Obama postcards at the post office and then went to City Hall to pay my dues. It’s a small price to pay to help re-elect the president. Fortunately, I had change for the meter that time. Unfortunately, I left the change in my pocket. Fortunately, the meter readers were still canvassing the blocks by the political offices. So… I made another investment in downtown and brought home smoothies for me and Amigo.

Oh, what a day. I think I’ll go hide in the tomato jungle. At least I don’t have to pay for parking there.

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