What can I say about these historic events that everyone else hasn’t said already?

The idea that we will have a president with whom I agree on the basic matters of how our society should function makes me almost giddy. Well, it would make me giddy if I didn’t feel so worn down and bruised by the endless campaign.

I will always defend Texas from Yankee scorn but at the same time, living blue among the red, atheist among the religious right, feminist among the whatever the hell anti-feminist women think they are—is wearing. I’ve spent so many years biting my tongue, trying not to argue belief systems (logic doesn’t work, that’s why they’re beliefs) and loving the sinners while hating the sins that I now suddenly find myself with the urge to call “bullshit” right and left.

The other day at lunch, a friend said she hated both candidates but that she was afraid of Obama because he’s a SOCIALIST and she didn’t want him taking her HARD EARNED MONEY and giving it to HOMELESS PEOPLE who JUST DON'T WANT TO WORK. I muttered something about the working poor and then summed it up by saying, “We have a philosophical difference,” and changed the subject. She’s a friend, after all. But my wussiness has bugged me ever since. My only consolation is that she had already voted so I didn’t actually miss an opportunity to convert an undecided.

Still, I’m starting to wonder if my decision, made long ago, to avoid making waves in my adopted home, is the right one. And I find myself increasingly unable to just keep my mouth shut at opinions that annoy me. In a way, Obama’s victory feels personally empowering, a validation of beliefs that I’ve had to keep my mouth closed on for so many years.

So, you know what I’m saying, don’t you? I’m about to be more annoying than ever.

And by the way, Yankee friends--Obama lost Texas but he won Dallas County. And that makes me happy.

Labels: politics, presidential election, texas

Have you cried yet today? I have. This year’s presidential election is so overwhelming and it’s been such a very long road getting to today, all my nerves and emotions are churned up.

What would it be like to be Barack Obama, so close to being the first African-American president of the United States of America? I mean really. Stop reading, sit very, very still, and try to imagine what that might feel like.

And Michelle? How does it feel for her, to have the guy she wakes up to every morning that close to being the first African-American president of the United States of America?

And imagine being Obama's grandmother, taking her last breaths, knowing that her little boy was that close to being the first African-American president of the United States of America.

My gosh, the accomplishment of being elected president at all is breathtaking, minus breaking the color barrier.

Quite often, dying people manage to hang on just long enough for an important event—wedding, holiday, birth. I thought about that when I heard about Obama’s grandmother dying. Maybe she didn’t want to know. Maybe seeing Barack come this close was enough joy for her and she didn’t want or need to know the outcome of the election. Maybe not knowing was preferable to the chance that she would live to see him lose.

We’re all so sick of this election, I hesitate to bring it up at all. But to leave it unmarked would be wrong. And I am moved by it. I am verklempt.

Labels: barack obama, presidential election

Is it election day yet?

The campaigning has receded to a dull, annoying buzz in my ears. I care as much as I ever did, but thinking about it has worn a blister on my brain. When I’m flipping through TV channels, the very sight of McCain or Palin or even my guy causes a stab of pain, like when you slip into the same shoes that raised the blister in the first place. I just can’t look anymore. I can’t think about it anymore. And I don’t matter. I’ve made my choice, nobody needs to persuade me of anything. Besides, I still live in Texas where my vote is likely to be a formality.

I’m confused about the whole idea of undecided voters, though. How can you be undecided between these two candidates? I suspect the undecideds are Republicans who see the obvious problems with their ticket but are struggling with the idea of crossing the aisle.

Either that or they’re idiots.

I’m not reading a lot about the economic crisis either. Again, not that I don’t care but at the moment, it’s way too big to wrap my little mind around. I don’t know yet how it will affect me. Will I be waiting in a bread line? Selling apples on a street corner? (And might that be more lucrative than freelance writing?) Is someone going to take my house away? At the moment, nothing has changed for us except the contents of our IRAs, which is scary, but I’m not looking until all the wild swings stop. Right now, we’re as broke and as rich as we ever were.

I may learn something this weekend, at a conference for travel writers, since many of the editors attending work for publications about luxury travel. While I think the depression will have to reach breadline proportions before people give up travel altogether, I suspect the trend of the last decade towards increasingly over-the-top luxury in travel is about to screech to a halt. With that, magazines such as Travel & Leisure might have to rethink their mission. Perhaps it’s time to start a magazine aimed at rail-riding hobos…Bandana-on-a-Stick Traveler.

At any rate, all this stuff is about to be steamrolled by the oncoming train that is the holiday season. The Halloween season started weeks ago. Target’s shelves have been merry with Halloween trimmings since September. Do you have your Halloween wreath hanging? Is your Halloween tree up? Do you have your Halloween whoopee cushion? Yes, really. I found one at Target, bought it for MsKrit as an early Halloween present.

That’s the full extent of my participation in the holiday. I’m back in Halloween Grinch mode. As always, ours will be the house with the lights out and the door locked. Trick away, you can’t scare me. Until Nov. 4.

Labels: halloween, presidential election, travel

Presumably, this guy thinks Sarah Palin goes to the supermarket because, you know, she's a chick. I have to wonder when she has time. I think this guy actually supports MR. Palin for vice president, since he probably handles that little household duty. Or maybe he supports the Palins' household help.

And that, of course, is aside from the whole question as to whether we want regular schlemiels in the White House. Me, I want very very smart people in there. People a whole helluvalot smarter than me. It doesn't take much intelligence to go grocery shopping so that's not on my list of requirements for political office.

Labels: palin, politics, presidential election

I'll write what I can about last night’s RNC but it’s all so depressing.

One small consolation is that looking at McCain’s 96-year-old mom, I’d say there’s a very good chance that he has a lot of lively years left in him. She looks amazing, and when he introduced her, she fairly leaped out of her seat. So that means if the Republicans do win, McCain might actually live through his term and not saddle us with a lipstick wearing pit bull running the country into the ground.

Not that McCain would make me happy.

It’s going to be a very interesting, very stressful couple of months.

Here’s Gloria Steinem saying things I like about Palin. Too bad it’s Gloria Steinem, since she carries the stench of feminism. A friend who teaches college in the Bible belt told me that when she mentioned feminism in class the other day, a student actually stood up and walked out in a huff. And, she said, that’s not unusual—the only difference is that it’s usually girls who get offended and this time it was a guy.

A feminist speaking out against Palin only makes her more appealing to her voter base.

Ugh.

Let’s change the subject. Here are some links to cheer us up.

Cartoons for the week …

Love this one, especially since it differentiates between blogging and mindless barking. I thought they were the same things.

And this may be the most delightful depiction of marriage ever. I would venture to say that this is just how Tom feels about me and the feeling is mutual. Except he's a manly cupcake. No pink icing on him.

Yoga joke du jour. Have I posted this one already? The New Yorker repeats the cartoons it sends out. I know I’ve seen it already.

Speaking of yoga, I’m way off that program. In fact, maintaining my workout regime has become a major struggle. I have resumed power walking, which I gave up many months ago out of boredom. But now that the weather is marginally cooler than it’s been all summer, I’ve been back out there with my iPod. It’s still boring but it’s something. If I don’t ramp things up very soon, I’m going to start splitting seams. It’s that bad.

And finally, here’s a delicious blog my friend Mary turned me onto, in which an artist takes commissions and critiques from his three-year-old daughter, Tiny Art Director.

If that doesn’t cheer you up, I can’t help you.

Labels: cartoons, feminism, flotsam, politics, presidential election

I sat through all the speeches last night, to get to know the other side a little better. What a crappy evening I had. There’s nothing likable about that bunch, as far as I’m concerned. And they like me no better. Evidently, as a liberal, I can’t even call myself an American.

According to one speaker (was it Huckabee? Giuliani? All the mean-spiritedness has blurred into one hateful creature) this election, “won’t be decided by the liberal media or Hollywood celebrities but by AMERICANS.” Hm, so are members of the media and Hollywood celebrities illegal aliens? Creatures from outer space? French?

The was something chilling about the enormous crowd chanting, “drill, baby, drill.” I expected to see pitchforks and flaming torches. KILL that environment! Drill it DEAD! We want HUMMERS!

Of course the star of the show was Sarah Palin, who was no more appealing to me than the rest of them, though I will concede her hotness. But the crowd loved her. They LOVED her. She’s a “hockey mom” and is there anything more exalted in this society than a mom of any sort? It’s a shortcut to credibility and lovability. Yes, well, it doesn’t mean anything in this context. Palin’s speech was full of entertaining one-liners and zingers but I didn’t hear anything that gave me any faith in her ability to be second in command of my country.

But I sure wish I felt more confident about Democrats’ ability to win this election. Yes, I have hope. Is that all I have, though?

Maybe if I were blinded by Obama’s light, I’d feel differently and could be as confident as my friends who have drunk the Kool-Aid. But while I see his appeal and support his candidacy, the smoke and mirrors aspect is even more frightening to me now that he has an equally appealing (to the other side) shadow opponent. It seems increasingly like rhetoric vs. rhetoric, a beauty pageant and popularity contest.

The evil, God-hating media is digging as hard as it can to find Palin’s skeletons, but I’m putting a lot of faith in the VP debate now. Go, Joe, go. Please.

On a related but basically irrelevant subject, I wonder what poor Levi Johnston was thinking as he stood there on that stage, chomping on gum, roped into a situation he couldn’t possibly have imagined when he pulled out his dick five months ago.

Labels: barak obama, palin, politics, presidential election

The Dallas Morning News is launching a new publication called The Briefing, which will be an abbreviated newspaper—a one-section broadsheet, that will be delivered free to non-subscribers. Full story here.

Hm…interesting concept. I’m trying to decide how I feel about this. Advertisers will like it since it will deliver their ads into more hands. And that may keep the the dinosaur lumbering along a little longer. I'm all for that.

Funny--I can’t imagine my newspaper taking any less time to read in the morning than it already does, although I do have the benefit of spending days at my computer, keeping up with news online, so I can breeze through much of it. A lot of people don’t have that luxury. (I spoke to a busy working single mom recently who, when I mentioned the earthquake in China, said, “There was an earthquake in China?”)

Still, I’m always slightly irked at the benefits showered on new customers/non customers by companies. You know, the old open a bank account, get a free toaster thing. No interest introductory rates on credit cards.

At best, existing customers can opt-in to be barraged by offers of nominal discounts from various “partners.” (I don’t consider 10% off to be anything but a come-on) If my credit card company really wanted to show its appreciation, it would reward me with a couple of interest-free months. My newspaper—I pay $228 a year for a daily subscription--would cut me a price deal or give me access to its online archives free. My bank could toss $25 in my account for every year I stick with it. That kind of thing. Show me some love.
___

I’m not usually a National Review kind of girl, but this essay by Mark Steyn tickled me. Yes, I support Obama and will vote for him. No question. I think the army of malevolent Hillary supporters planning to vote for McCain are some sort of invented bogeywomen.

But I admit that I will get some small satisfaction in seeing Obama parsed with the same glee and attention that Hillary was throughout the campaign, as in Steyn’s essay.
___

Here is a fabulous blog post from Judith Warner (thanks Mary) that ties together Hillary and Sex in the City. Take a moment to take a look.

---

And finally, watch this video and tell me again how there was no sexism and misogyny in this past campaign.

Labels: barak obama, dallas morning news, feminism, hillary clinton, newspapers, presidential election, sex and the city, sexism

MsKrit, whose depth of celebrity knowledge always surprises me, sends me this news about our insane young woman wearing her underwear over her clothes. Yeah, I suppose if you're annoying three times in the same ad, that would count as overexposed.

My friend Nancy sent me this fabulous Salon.com essay by Joan Walsh about what Obama must do to win over Hillary's constituency--especially women. Especially middle-aged women, who were brutalized by this campaign.

I've been stunned by the extent to which trashing Clinton supporters as washed up old white women is acceptable,Walsh writes. A writer whose work I respect submitted a piece addressed to "old white feminists," telling them to get out of Obama's way. I've found my own writing often dismissed not on its merits (or lack thereof) but because as a woman who will turn 50 in September, I'm supposed to be Clinton's demographic. Salon's letters pages, as well as the comments sections around the blogosphere, are studded with dismissive, derisive references to bitter old white women.

I'm all verklempt.

Labels: advertising, barak obama, feminism, hillary clinton, models, presidential election, sexism

Check out this video (sound optional but interesting.) It’s Dallas teens doing a new sport called Parkour. I was never so fearless but I like to watch.

***

According to this article, the whole emoticons ‘n’ acronyms writing style is creeping into teenagers’ schoolwork.

The idea of emoticons in a term paper makes my eyes roll, and I’m not even
anti-emoticon, as is fashionable among smart people. Wiseguys like me sometimes need to flag our wiseguyitude. I don’t emoticon often but I use them when it seems prudent.

However, the statement that really struck me in the article was from Richard Sterling, a Berkeley prof and emeritus executive director of the National Writing Project. He predicts that eventually, the convention of starting sentences with a capital letter will disappear.

Hm, I’m not liking that idea. I’m not a language purist. I think the evolution of language is fun and exciting. But I also think that what we write should be easy to read and that includes graphically. The capitalized first letter is an important cue—at least as important as the period and the properly placed comma. I like capitalizations, paragraph breaks, commas and clarity of communication.

Unlike this sentence, which I pulled from the Fair Shares for All: A Memoir of Family and Food, which I’m trying to finish but have stalled out on:

"...Dad's minaciously short-winded frame had just been rushed to Oldchurch Hospital, the rack-rent lazaretto where I had reflexively frowned when a scalpel's intrusion spelled spasms of flashlight and seizures of bawling where once in umblical darkness I'd dozed to the clockwork berceuse of Mum's heart..."

I think it means the author's father was taken to the same hospital where the author was born by Cesarean section.

I have a decent vocabulary but in that statement alone are four words requiring a dictionary (minaciously, rack-rent, lazaretto, berceuse). One or two words, OK. I blame myself. Four? That's too many obscure words in one convoluted description. It's reader unfriendly.

The whole book is like that. MEGO. That the book was written by a national magazine copy chief makes the rococo writing all the more puzzling. A copy editor's job is to help make writing clearer.

On a related subject: Call me unsophisticated but nothing turns me off a book more than hearing it described as "lyrical." Possibly the only lyrical book I've ever really enjoyed was Bel Canto, which I loved. So nice I read it twice.

***

Fickle, fickle media (heh heh heh).

***

The Google searches that brought people to my blog got better and better as the week passed.

newspapers:watergate scandal

for sale xoloescuintle

sophie Razzle magazine

"eating is boring"

+2 Bangkok contact email address of doctors of Bangkok "email directory update" OR 2008 OR 2009 "@yahoo.com" –indians

I-35 between dallas and austin fun stops

i can make you thin but jean fain

eagle creek subcontinent pack

2008 @yahoo.com @gmail.com florida company doctors

%2

***

Maybe later I’ll come up with more flotsam for our Friday. Maybe not.

Labels: barak obama, blogging, books, google, hillary clinton, parkour, presidential election, sports, writing

I was reading Daily Kos last night, a political blog that is strongly behind Obama, and I got to thinking about all the calls for Hillary to drop out of the race. My own beloved husband has been saying she should, and even I’ve had that thought (though I hate to admit it), what with the campaign fatigue we’re all feeling.

And it suddenly hit me.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

Really, let’s think this through…

This campaign is the culmination of Hillary’s life’s work.

It’s a key moment in the history of the United States.

She’s not exactly being steamrolled or Obama would already be the Democratic candidate.

Would YOU quit?

Don’t give me that “for the good of the party” bullshit. How can it be bad for Democrats to have two viable candidates fighting for the privilege of running for president?

And how bad can it be to put Obama thoroughly through his paces before we even think about entrusting him with the country’s most important job? I say let him jump through some hoops, put his feet to the fire, throw all those clichés at him and if he’s still standing at the end, then maybe he’s more ready for the job than I think he is. (Maybe. I think he’s a good guy but at this point in his life and career, I still think he's 75% smoke and mirrors.)

This is a nation of people that won’t even give up SUVs for the good of the Earth, but we’re saying this intelligent, accomplished, ambitious, determined woman should give up the race of her life because we’re tired of hearing about it?

Tell me another joke.

Labels: barak obama, hillary clinton, presidential election

Dallas is accepting nominations for a new name for Industrial Boulevard. The DMN says:

There are Postal Service restrictions. Names can't be more than 14 characters, so "Down By The River I Shot My Baby Boulevard" is out. Apostrophes aren't permitted, so "What's That Smell Street" won't work. And it can't closely resemble an existing street name. "Turtle Creek Boulevard" is taken.

Want to nominate a name? Click here.

That’s the good writing du jour, IMO. Another fine line comes from Joyce Saenz Harris’ Taste section story about a book/cooking club whose motto, she says, “…might well be a chicken in every plot.” Cute. Too bad the paragraph started with the dreaded “Welcome to…”

In other election news, Oklahoma is accepting nominations for an official rock song. It already has an official state song (“”Oklahoma"), C&W song (“Faded Love”--not my guilty pleasure "You're The Reason God Made Oklahoma"), folk song (“Oklahoma Hills”) and waltz (“Oklahoma Wind.”)

Goodness gracious, who knew Oklahoma was so melodic?

Want to nominate an Oklahoma rocker? Click here.

So, Hillary pulled it out again. You want my theory about why Obama isn’t campaigning negative? He doesn’t have to because his supporters (I call them IOS---Insufferable Obama Supporters) do it for him. I hear many more Obama supporters going on about Hillary’s (and Bill’s) horns and tail than about Obama’s accomplishments. It's perfect--Obama can keep his halo and Hillary still gets smeared.

I would vote for Obama over McCain. No question. I like the guy--what I know of him. It’s his fan base for which I’ve developed a healthy loathing.

Labels: barak obama, dallas, dallas morning news, elections, hillary clinton, music, presidential election, writing

I'm trying really hard to get something accomplished today. I've had a very silly week of wasted time. But now I'm enjoying discussing yesterday's topic further at Ruth's blog, The Fabulous Geezersisters' Weblog.

I'll glom off of Ruth's post today so I don't waste my entire day. Again. Stop on by. Ruth is a swell writer and thinker.

Labels: barak obama, gender politics, hillary clinton, politics, presidential election

Much better than I.

Labels: barak obama, feminism, hillary clinton, presidential election, sexism

So I’m trying to wrap my mind around the fact that when blacks talk about racism, the nation is awed but when women talk about sexism, we are mocked. Shoulder pad feminists, my ass….as always, it comes down to what women wear.

I’d like to point out that racism is divided by race but in our world, all the races are united in sexism. Women are fair game to all. You can make jokes about women in general. Jokes about fat women are mainstream. Old women are frequently portrayed as ridiculous. Blond jokes are a national institution.

Maureen Dowd, The New York Times, Feb. 13, 2008
Relaying a joke told by Penn Jillette: "Obama is just creaming Hillary. You know, all these primaries, you know. And Hillary says it's not fair, because they're being held in February, and February is Black History Month. And unfortunately for Hillary, there's no White Bitch Month."

And this is different from Don Imus…how? Actually Don Imus managed to insult all women, black and white, but it was the black part that caused the real uproar. (The column from which the above was excerpted, by NOW president Kim Gandy, is great reading.)

Women are still murdered for being not toeing the line men set.

From NOW: Every day four women die in this country as a result of domestic violence, the euphemism for murders and assaults by husbands and boyfriends. That's approximately 1,400 women a year, according to the FBI. The number of women who have been murdered by their intimate partners is greater than the number of soldiers killed in the Vietnam War.

From UNESCO, as published on PBS.org:... the UNESCO project illustrates the wildly varying data on human trafficking produced by government organizations and NGOs (non-governmental organizations). For example, in 2001, the FBI estimated 700,000 women and children were trafficked worldwide, UNICEF estimated 1.75 million, and the International Organization on Migration (IOM) merely 400,000. In 2001, the UN drastically changed its own estimate of trafficked people in 2000 -- from 4,000,000 to 1,000,000.

There’s that pesky wage gap…

From NOW: Fifty-five percent of all women work in female-dominated jobs (jobs in which women comprise 70 percent or more of the workforce) whereas only 8.5 percent of all men work in these occupations. However, the men working in female-dominated jobs still receive about 20 percent more than women who work in female-dominated jobs.

And poverty gap…

From the U.S. Census: Women are more likely than men to live in poverty.
In 2001, 12.9 percent of the female population and 10.4 percent of the male population lived below the poverty level. Poverty rates were highest for children: the proportions of boys and girls (those under 18) who were poor were not statistically different (16.4 percent and 16.2, respectively). From ages 18 to 64, the poverty rate was 11.6 percent for women and 8.5 percent for men. For those 65 years and over, the poverty rate was 12.4 percent for women compared with 7.0 percent for men (see Figure 6). Like income, poverty varies by family type. Of families living in poverty in 2001, 50.9 percent were maintained by women with no spouse present, 40.5 percent were married-couple families, and 8.5 percent were maintained by men with no wife present.

In my business, some of us were mighty happy to learn of women doing loudly what some of us were doing quietly for years— counting bylines in the major (i.e. prestigious and high-paying) magazines. What a surprise! More men than women!

Am I pissed? Yup, I’m an angry white female.

Speaking of what not to wear, I then pick up my paper and see a photo of this full-grown man, Jason Helgeson, dressed like a five-year-old and am yet more disgusted.

Guys can get away with just about anything but when women gripe, even other women turn against them.

Labels: feminism, gender politics, politics, presidential election, racism, sexism, wage gap

I got into a squabble yesterday with a friend who is in her early 30s. At one point, she told me I was “showing my age.” She meant it as an insult and I took it as such (and the situation degenerated from there) but I’m rethinking both her attack and my response.

The accusation as intended is a double-insult because it not only says I’m old, but also that my age is a bad thing. And admittedly, by taking it as an insult, I was perpetuating for myself the stigma.

I’m finally ready to push back.

Don’t underestimate the middle-aged broads. We are the insurgents.

I’m reminded of a Mediabistro party I attended a couple of years ago, shortly after the Dallas Morning News had massive layoffs. After frat-boy-about-town Tim Rogers made an unprovoked, unnecessary and obnoxious crack about my age, I wandered away from his exalted hipitude to be with my own, a group of pissed-off middle-aged broads (including several who had just lost their jobs) sitting at a table quietly plotting to blow shit up. We laughed and griped and laughed and plotted. No, we haven’t exactly blown anything up but we sure weren’t having a quilting bee.

Mediabistro parties, which occur in cities across the country, are infamous for their youth orientation. I’ve been to two in Dallas and felt marginalized at one and insulted (as described) at the other. When I was in New York once, I tried to get a colleague to attend one of the parties there and she declined, having had the same experience. I decided to stop attending Mediabistro parties.

But now I’m just pissed. Showing my age? Yeah, maybe I am—and it’s a competent, powerful and, once one comes to terms with the number, increasingly self-assured age. I've heard that as women age, they tap more into their masculine qualities and with men it's the opposite. Know what that means? We have a lot of personal resources to draw on. Power, baby.

Just because we’re not loud doesn’t mean we don’t have anything to say. I’ll go to the next Mediabistro party. Don’t want to bother with antiques like me? Fuck you and all your little friends. And let me know when you figure out how you’re going to stop your own aging process.

Don’t count us out, kids. Maybe we didn’t want to cram into crowded arenas and swoon for our candidate, but when it’s time to vote and caucus, we show up. And no, I don’t suggest all women my age voted for Hillary. But a lot of my friends did and I think we surprised you, yes?

Labels: midlife, personal growth, presidential election, psychology

Perspective.

Labels: barak obama, politics, presidential election

But here’s my incendiary question du jour:

If Barak Obama were a woman (young, attractive, inexperienced, touchy-feely message) and Hillary Clinton were a man (wrinkling, graying, seasoned, dry presentation)—all other things being just as they are—do you think Obama would have a chance?

Labels: barak obama, hillary clinton, politics, presidential election