Reading

Most of you know that I'm avid reader and a huge advocate of reading, especially for children and young adults. In the Wall Street Journal the other day, Karl "Goebbels" Rove, makes the case that George "The Decider" Bush should be well-regarded because he reads. Seems the good ol' boy from Tex-ass (which reminds me of a joke. I'll tell it here*) is just being all "aw shucks" as a ploy. According to Rove, Bush is actually an intellectual.

Pardon me while I walk into the other room and die of unabashed laughter...

*Que Jeopardy Music*

Okay, I'm back. Fortunately, we have Richard Cohen of the Washington Post to balance out Rove's last ditch effort to paint his former boss and friend, "The Leader of the Free World", as a smart guy. Cohen, to put it mildly, isn't impressed with Bush's choice of reading material over the last three years. In fact, he sums it up like this:

[T]he books themselves reveal -- actually, confirm -- something about Bush that maybe Rove did not intend. They are not the reading of a widely read man, but instead the books of a man who seeks -- and sees -- vindication in every page. Bush has always been the captive of fixed ideas. His books just support that.

Hm. Seems to be little surprise in that. Not exactly what I would consider the hallmark of an intellectual. Then again, we're talking about Republicans here who view the word intellectual with as much disdain as the rest of us view doggie doo-doo on the bottom of our shoe: unpleasant, messy, and stinky. Ergo, is Rove's Bush really an intellectual or is he merely a guy who reads? Call me a cynic, but I think he's just a guy who reads. And only that which, as Cohen more adroitly points out than I can, underscores his sense of divine mandate and democratized self-righteousness.

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In other snort-worthy news, Bristol Palin had her baby. Congratulations. And named it Tripp. Poor baby. What is wrong with those people?! And, as the daughter of the supposed "Savior of the GOP"--that bastion of morality and family values--why hasn't this girl married her baby-daddy yet? Oh never mind. Who are we kidding?

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On a brighter note, here's a tribute to a resident of Bethesda, Maryland, who passed away this week. I don't know why this struck me especially. Maybe because Mr. Aanenson's sense of morality is in stark contrast to Bush & Co.'s appalling lack of the same. Here is WWII Fighter Pilot Shared Haunting Story with the World.



* Okay, so the joke I alluded to earlier... First, some background. My mother married a man whose parents migrated from Texas to California during the Depression in search of jobs. Despite living in California three times longer than they ever lived in Texas, my grandparents still strongly identify as Texans.

Not long after they were married, my parents were having dinner with my dad's mom and dad. A discussion arose about Lyndon Baines Johnson and my mother, in all of her 18 years of youth and naivete, told this joke:

"Did you know they've shortened the name of Texas to Tex?"

Incredulous looks ensued, but Mom plugged right along. "Yep," she said, "Seems they dropped the ass off the end and sent him to the White House."

My grandfather's reply, directed to my father, "She's not one of us."

True story. In hindsight, Mom says she probably should have sought an annulment then and there. Forty years later, we sometimes wish she had, too.

Happy Birthday!

Today is my mother's birthday. She's... erm... older. But quite young, as far as parents go. Both of my parents are. Whenever I tell people how old (or young) they are, people invariably say, "That's so young!"

Growing up, I didn't know whether to be proud or annoyed when people would say that. Despite their relative youth, my parents--and my mother especially--were exactly that: parents. They were just as strict and structured with us as the parents my friends had who always seemed so much older than my mom and dad.

My mother taught us that life is full of choice and with the ability to choose came accountability and responsibility. We were often admonished to be thoughtful and give proper consideration to any decisions we made because all choices comes with consequences. Over the years, this has served me well. (It has also been a liability at times as I can over analyze and that can leave me stuck trying to figure out all the 'what ifs' before moving forward.)

More than the rules and boundaries and manners and considerations my mother taught us, she also has given us the gift of laughter. There's rarely an occasion where we don't laugh while we're together. This evening was again such an occasion.

Mom really likes the Geico Gecko. She often says she'd like to have a conversation with him, which just cracks up me and my siblings. Last week, I asked Mom what she'd like for her birthday dinner. "Schnitzel," she said. And then, as an aside, she said, "I wish the Geico Gecko would come to my birthday dinner." (Her favorite ad right now is the one where the little guy is talking to a jellyfish. As the jelly floats past him, he says in his lilting Cockney accent, "Is that your face? (Long pause) Nah, that's your belly button, in'it?")

So, I came home and went to Geico's website where I found their little shop of hilarity and bought Mom a bunch of gecko goodies. They featured in our laughter tonight, as did much of whatever was the conversation.

Even when life is hard--and right now, it's particularly hard for her. My father has been unemployed for a year. I'm unemployed right now. The house my parents live in has been in unending remodel mode for 10 years (my dad's damn lucky my mom stays married to him. I'd have long kicked him to the curb by now. But that's for another day)--she continually manages to laugh and keep us laughing.

I think that's probably one of the greatest gifts she's given us: the ability to be serious, but not take ourselves seriously and to laugh all the way. As she often says, it's better than the alternative.

Mom laughing at her Christmas present from my brother.
I forget to get out the camera this evening to take pictures of her delight and laughter
at all the gecko goodies we got her. I'm pretty upset about that myself. Oh well.

Happy birthday, Mom!

Heading for the Funny Farm

Fall color at the DuPont Circle Farmer's Market

Today is going to be a busy one. After I get home from work, I have to run to the grocery store and get fixin's for a pasta salad and coleslaw. Then I'm gonna come home and make the aforementioned, as well as a red velvet cake. Why all this food and cake, you ask?

Because tomorrow I'm off to Lancaster, Pa., for an early Thanksgiving fete at my cousins' place. This is my mother's side of the family. Her oldest sister and her kids. My mother is one of four daughters and her oldest sister is a trip. T.R.I.P. Trip, trippity, trip. Hippy trippy. And yet, we all adore her.

I don't remember how it got started--I think maybe it was my sister?--but we call mom's sister Aunty Mame, that's how trippy she is. I'd write more right now, but I've got to get ready for work (TGIF!) and it's been years since I've really spent any time with Aunty Mame, so my stories are rusty at best. However, by Saturday night I should have plenty of stories to share. At the very least, we'll have lots of laughter. We always do when we get together.

Happy Friday, friends!


Photo copyright: D.C. Confidential, 11/07