Sing!! Sing out LOUD

For those of us who journal with John, we all know the weekend writing assignment routine.  Weekend Assignment #33: You can have any person, past or present, sing any song for you that you want. What is the song, and who is singing it for you?

Extra credit: Name a singer you wish you could sing like, but can't. So that means even those of you with excellent voices have to pick someone you can't sing like.

Don't be shy, c'mon!  Step up to the imaginary mic.  It's time to put all that harmonizing in the steamy shower to use.  I personally choose to wail and croon in my car.  Sometimes without the radio, depends if it is working or not.  And it doesn't always matter if I know the correct words...I think we all have stories about THAT.

I would rather hear vocals from the soul than lyrics with perfect pitch.  So, Janis Joplin came to mind.  Quickly followed by Nina Simone, Erykah Badu, Etta James, Billie Holliday, Mary J. Blige, Tracy Chapman, Bjork, and scores of other women.

But, Eva Cassidy has my heart.  She is no longer with us, but I have only recently discovered her music and she is truly wonderful.  Born in '63, she succumbed to cancer in November '96 at the age of 33.

Her flavor is mostly folk, with some jazz thrown in to spice things up.  Her renditions of "Imagine", "What a Wonderful World", and many others are truly inspiring.  She has smooth vocals, but heartfelt soul kicks it powerfully.

  Although I usually prefer the original artist over a remake.  I think I would have like to have heard Eva sing live.  So,  if I could choose only one song to hear her sing to me...well, it would be Jonathon Harel's "Just the Way You Are", made popular by Billy Joel.

Don't go changing, to try and please me
You never let me down before
Don't imagine you're too familiar
And I don't see you anymore
I wouldn't leave you in times of trouble
We never could have come this far
I took the good times; I'll take the bad times
I'll take you just the way you are
Don't go trying some new fashion
Don't change the color of your hair
You always have my unspoken passion
Although I might not seem to care
I don't want clever conversation
I never want to work that hard
I just want someone that I can talk to
I want you just the way you are.
I need to know that you will always be
The same old someone that I knew
What will it take til you believe in me
The way that I believe in you.
I said I love you and that's forever
And this I promise from the heart
I could not love you any better
I love you just the way you are
   Who do I wish I could sing like?  Last night, I was listening to Natalie Merchant.  She has great style, good range, and smokiness or clarity, depending on what she wants.  The subject matter of her lyrics are usually solid, too.  I wish I could sing like her.

Veteran's Day

THANKS!!

To all the veterans of all our military, especially those who have contributed to our abilities to retain what freedoms, rights, and priveleges we have.  My dad is a vietnam vet.  He has my heartfelt thanks, especially for all he has done to see that he and other viet-vets receive at least a portion of their due.  I am so sorry that our government does not take better care of our people, especially those who have suffered atrocities in the name of America.

To learn more about what our government would like you to know about Veteran's Day:  http://www1.va.gov/vetsday/

Weekend Writing Assignment #32

John M. Scalzi’s Weekend Writing Assignment #32: Congratulations! The American People have elected you President -- for one day. You are allowed to make one Executive Order. What is it?

 Sites focused on Executive Orders:  http://www.fas.org/irp/offdocs/direct.htm

http://www.archives.gov/federal_register/executive_orders/executive_orders.html

At first my mind drew blanks, which is hardto do (       ) ß-me drawing a blank.  Then, once the ideas started flowing, I couldn’t stop the flood.  So many areas need addressing that I was easily overwhelmed with debates of “I wanna do this, but this is more important, and what about this, that there affects more folks, and don’t forget about this whole thing here…”  But my mind kept coming back to one area.

I think we can better budget our money, as a nation.  We do not need to spend so much on defense and correction systems.  Our other social institutions are suffering as a consequence.  Namely, health/medicine and education are becoming increasingly poor in quality.  Perhaps if we spent more wisely on education, we might not feel we need to spend so foolishly on prisons.

So my executive order would be to fund research and development to all; for quality implementation of good methods and programs, more rigorous standards and criteria for teachers, and an array of programs to address the various learning styles and needs of our children.  This is also heavily tied into health and nutrition, preventative measures to ensure the optimum performance of our students.  I would beef up our physical education programs, without sacrificing our academics. Obesity has become a weighty issue, a pressing concern, as more of our children are afflicted with more health problems related to poor dietary habits and lack of exercise.  All these things would most benefit our children if combined so that no essential area is neglected.

Dream on, right?

Extra Credit: The Presidential Medal of Freedom is America's highest civilian honor. Give it to someone.

The Presidential Medal of Freedom (http://www.medaloffreedom.com/)

“The Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation's highest civilian award, recognizes exceptional meritorious service. The medal was established by President Truman in 1945 to recognize notable service in the war. In 1963, President Kennedy reintroduced it as an honor for distinguished civilian service in peacetime.”

In keeping with the above theme, I want to honor founders of public institutions of higher education.  “AAHRPP® is the creation of seven nonprofit founding member organizations representing the leadership of universities, medical schools and teaching hospitals; biomedical, behavioral and social scientists; and patient and disease advocacy organizations.”  This not only allows me to address education, but also those researching and developing, contributing to our major social institutions, in particular focusing on health and medicine.  (http://www.aahrpp.org/founders.htm)

One current member of the board is Susan L. Weiner, Ph.D., president of The Children’s Cause for Cancer Advocacy (formerly called The Children's Cause, Inc.).  “…give voice to the concerns of childhood cancer patients, survivors and their families and empower them to take on leadership roles in pediatric cancer advocacy. Dr. Weiner, whose child was a 13-year cancer survivor, has been key to bringing childhood cancer to the forefront of the national cancer policy agenda”  (http://www.childrenscause.org/about/mission_susan_weiner.shtml)

In addition, Dr. Weiner is the founder of Mary McDowell Center for Learning, an independent school in New York City for children with learning disabilities.  “The Center's approach is grounded in the Quaker values of respect for individuals, personal, and social responsibility, peaceful resolution of conflict, the importance of diversity and the value of service. Challenging and building on the strengths of each child, the Center cherishes the uniqueness of every student.”   http://www.marymcdowell.org/

Susan L. Weiner, Ph.D., serves on many boards and works to improve the well-being of our children in various ways.  In my opinion, she takes the cake, candles and all.  I would award her the medal and a portion of funds to further the causes she advocates.

He scores again!!

My guy did EXCELLENT on his stats exam:  102%

But wait, you say, how is more than 100% possible?  Honey, it's statistics.  In the statistical world, we use curves, gradiations, estimations of population parameters, and all sorts of standardization scores...remember, raw scores transformed become standardized scores!

Great job, babe, I am SOOOO proud of you!! 

sad, so sad...

Some things just make me sad.  Not surprised, just disappointed.  And sad.

I dally with urban legends.  I try not to retell and spread them, without a disclaiming stating that this is a hoax.  We have enough real threats out there without the scare tactics, catastrophic rhetoric, and dire warnings of what may possibly happen to someone some where....

One of the most common ways urban myths are spread are through emails.  You know, when you get one of those forwareded urgent horrible messages about what happened to a friend's friend's friend's friend.  (now I got the lyrics, heard it from a friend who, heard it from a friend who, heard it from a friend)  Usually those messages say something like, THIS IS NOT A JOKE.

Do not believe everything you read.  Chances are that the person who forwarded this plea, warning, etc. was very well-intentioned and wanted to pass the message on because they care, either for you or the cause or both.  These seem to target women and children more often than not, and are related to safety issues.

One example is the myriad of missing child pleas that make it into your post.  First off, let me clearly say that CODE ADAM and AMBER ALERTS are very real.  However not all missing child pleas are authentic.  Those that are fake detract from the real cases, the real searches, the real horrors.

If you receive something you think might not be entirely legitimate, my advice is, research it.  You are already online, if you are checking email.  Do a general searching using any of the search engines you prefer.  AOL allows you to perform a search right in the address line.  Just type in whatever the subject or gist of the email message is, then poke around and see what shows up.

In the case of AMBER ALERTS, you can go directly to the official site to verify the actual identity of the missing child.  http://codeamber.org/alerts.html  In fact, some of the hoaxes are so well-developed that they seem to have taken on a life of their own, complete with variations to the story.  The folks at CODEAMBER research these so they can concentrate on the real cases and warn you from those that aren't fact, so you do not waste time, energy, effort, and worry about those detracting from the actual missing child cases.

So if a forwarded email tugs at your heartstrings, makes your eyes tear, or your heart leap into your throat....before passing the post on in frantic fear and a desire to do your part in warning your loved ones, check to see if the message contains sensational stories or if it is indeed verifiable fact.

 

Very briefly, on a different note...the samo samo state of the nation is sad, sad, sad.  Not surprisingly, just disappointingly, a margin of the voting population eeked Bush into office for yet another term.  If some crisis occurs that he can be hero in, please don't be alarmed.  It isn't so much that we are safe from his ineptitude.  Rather that the hype of his tactics reminds me of some of the rhetoric I spoke of earlier.

I spoke with several international friends last night, from various regions of the world.  I felt like the American embassador as I fielded questions about just how stupid and foolish we are.  Here's to the blind hope that Bush might stop the insanity of so many of his injurous moves, clean up his act a bit, and perhaps improve a few needed areas...OR am I just being another foolish American?

ooooooooooh, krazy writing wrabbit...

As some of you know, today marks the kick-off for NaNoWriMo.  Wahooooo!!  I am done writing for the day, for the novel.  It's working title is:  Rice Puddin' Summer.  Today's total word-count for me:  3,735.  I don't know yet what the collective word-count is for all 33,000 registered writers.

According to my schedule, ahem, consulting my lil book...I have allowed my self to consider Mondays as an off-day.  I have other obligations on Mondays and they can be quite draining.  BUT, I figured if I could get ahead of the game in the beginning, then I can give myself some leeway at the end...or middle...or whenever the big B hits.  (that's the dreaded writer's Block, the big B is)

There's some holes in the plot, but I got plenty of time to spackle them babies up.  I am not sure how some things are going to fit, so I'll end up making adjustments and such as I go.  That's more than fine.  And right now, this is fun, fun, fun.

Anyone wanna join me?  anyone?  you?

Fosse, Fosse, Fosse...

  My guy might take me to see "Fosse", a tribute celebrating various dance routines of Fosse's.  The broadway production is coming to Ole Miss, Saturday 6 November.  We were thinking about dinner and a show, actually dressing semi-formal.  Or at least dressier than I usually appear...so I ought to figure out what fits, what I have even to choose from, I mean apparel does not usually make my priority list so I don't even know if I have anything appropriate, really.  What does one wear anyway?  Oh, twitter me, twitter me, twitter me...I am SURE that something will come to mind.  I might even get a few nice pix to post out of the evening.  We are probably going to do "Fosse" as a birthday present to me.  My guy asked what I wanted to do, he suggested OKLAHOMA! at the Orpheum in Memphis, which opens on my birthday.  But we are so not sure of what his schedule looks like, that this is safer.  More relaxing and enjoyable, I think too.  He hates OKLAHOMA!  and I would hate making him sit through it, even if he tells me he would for me.  Which is awfully sweet, but I guilt easily over some stuff.  Even if I am the one guilt-tripping myself...

Ya know, the more I think about it, the more I want to see "Fosse".  Really.  I don't have lots of preferences, so it takes awhile to develop them.  I think I will peak at clothes and see what I can do....stunningly sumptuously sensual...that'd be a good look to go for, doncha think?

Halloween Memory

To-day is Halloween.  To me, halloween and the changing of the clocks, means that fall has progressed past the turning back to summer point.  It means that the Holidays are upon us.  Birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years; they all await in the foreseeable future.

My mother made some awesome costumes for herself, my father, and me the year I was a senior in High-School.  My folks were in their early 40s at the time.  Mom carefully sewed these with the deligence she's brought to outfitting wedding parties, including brides and their maidens of honor.  She even created large puffy heads that were close-fitting helmets, allowing our faces to peep out from them.

Mine was a cat, all one piece, hood with pink satin lined ears and a dropped dart on the forehead to give me that cute heartshaped face.  I even wore it to school.  The only kid let alone SENIOR to be dressed in costume.  But my outfit paled in comparison to my mother's and father's...

Mom was Mickey Mouse, complete with a tuxedo style top that ended in long tails.  A close friend of ours applied our makeup, even coming over way early to do mine for the bus ride to school.  I had a silver face with black lips that were amazingly sensual...I never felt so, well, catty.

My father was, of course Mickey's mate, Minnie.  His outfit consisted of a red and white polka dotted dress with white piping and lace trim.  I provided an old stretched out bra that lent the correct curvature.  He carried a small hard black purse, like you'd expect Minnie to have.  His long flowing beard completed the look.

We went trick or treating to a few of the local bars.  Folks greeted us and our swollen heads with much laughter, goodwill, and usually would buy us drinks.  Of course, I stuck with cranberry juice, I was only 17 ya know.

For years, we had those costumes around.  My folks never wore them again.  But I did.  In fact, I took Mickey's head with me on several trips, as I discovered that it provided for an excellent pillow that did not fall out from under my bouncing jostling head propped against the window.  I might have looked odd, but it was comfortable.  After 5 or 6 years, we boxed them up and got rid of them.

Another fond memory dusted off and shared.  grin.  Did I mention that I have pretty kewl folks?  Gosh I love 'em.

NaNoWriMo

Hello!!  As you can see from my "all about me" sidebar, I am feeling a little squirrellee.  I got my thinking cap on.  I am ready to go!!


For those of you who may be scritching you head, corn-fuzed, let me explain.  I am a NaNoWriMo participant, first year attempted, first year registered.  NaNoWriMo is the nifty little, well shorter, name for "National Novel Writing Month".  It's actually a bit of a misnomer, but we don't get finicky about these things.  Internationally, folks participate, which is super-kewl!!


After the first year, the creators decided November was a more suitable month than July.  The goal is that we all (individually, that is) write 50,000 words.  That's about 175 pages.  Which is not quite novel length, more like a novella.  Again, we don't get picky about these things.  We start at the crack of November first and type or write like fiends for the next few weeks, ending on the 30th.


So that is the (inter)National Novel(la) Writing (or typing) Month (of November) in a nutshell (see?  squirrellee sidebar).  So what's the big deal, you say, about doing this in a month?  

Welllllll, it has to do with goals, timelimits, and producing quantity.

See, too many, myself included, often fall into the "one day" trap.  Ya know, as in, "one day, I will write the next great American Novel" (or British, or Russian, or Australian, or whichever nationality you are).  Some of us are, oh um, how can I politely say this....well, more than a bit anal about the whole gotta-phrase-this-thought-exactly-right and THAT can mean that I, um I mean folks, can get bogged down in the whole perfection thing that ain't ever gonna happen and THAT can lead to mass paralysis of the mind, which is SO not a good thing.  No, no it's not.

So the idea is that if we just write, write, write and don't think and overanalyze; then the sheer quantity creates a flow...or the flow creates a quantity...or both simultaneously combust.  The point is, there is bound to be something worth mining out of 50,000 words.  I mean, it can't all be bad.  It won't all be great, sure.  But, at least there is SOMETHING (fifty thousand somethings) to work with, to mold into something that might be publishable...or whatever you choose to do with your words.


So, that's why I've been clearing my schedule, tying up loose ends, trying to get all the things accomplished throughout the month of October so that I might have the time available to do this writing stuff in the month of November.  Thanks to all the faithful readers of my journal, the visitors that leave comments.  A huge appreciative grin and huggle to the few folks that take extra time, to go that extra mile, and make that extra effort...thanks for being so encouraging, supportive, and eager to see what I produce.  I am kinda curious, too.

We are able to create notes, chapter outlines, character development, conduct research, etc.  Just NO writing of the work til November first.  That is some 12 hours away, we can start as of midnight local time.


Sure, cheating is possible.  But you know you cheated and you just cheat yourself.  Besides, it costs no money to participate and there is no cash reward at the end.  You earn a great sense of accomplishment.  You might even get a great piece of writing from it.

So, I'm gonna give it a shot.  See how much I grow...

daddy's lil girl

My father and I are rather close most of the time.  Sometimes we need our space, from people in general, not just each other.  It occured to me that I have mentioned mom a few times in entries, but haven't really said much about my father.

When I was a child, dad was a truck-driver.  He had a rather erratic schedule, because he drove long-hauls and not day-trips.  When he was home, often he was tired and would rest and we had to be really, reall quiet.  Children are not usually quiet, but we played lots outside anyway, so he did get some rest.

As kids, one of our chores was to help dad weed the truck patch (a really really big garden, which seemed bigger cuz I was so little).  I was not too good with discerning what was a weed and what was a young plant, so I was constantly lagging behind my brother and father as they worked their rows.  Dad would come and patiently show me again, I would nod (I got it when he was right there), he would return to his section, and I would gaze at the vegetation as muddled as I had been before.  You could probably see little bubbles containing question marks blooming and popping above my head.

Our treat for a job well done was a dip and split.  Now, the dip was rule-laden too, like weeding the garden, but much more enjoyable.  Usually.

There was a stone bridge that arched over a creek, with a swim hole just above it.  There was a swinging rope, a couple of nice sized boulders, and a log or two that seemed to be there always.  Sometimes, there would be lots of happy folks there with a few kids, and we would all have fun.  Every once in a while, there would be a few folks bathing in the stream (hey!  this was the early to mid-70s).  It seemed that it was peaceful and cool.

The rules were in regard to the swing rope.  If you used it, you had to drop off, not just swing on it.  No playing around with the rope.  Swing out, drop off, or don't mess with the rope in the first place.

I did not know how to swim.  I'm sure that I would have learned if I swung out and dropped off the rope into the deeper water.  But I steered clear of the rope.  For the most part.  There was one time I remember swinging out, fully intending to drop, but my stomach and heart stayed behind and I couldn't remember to let go, even with everyone shouting to do so.  I slammed into the root laden bank.  More stunned than hurt, I cried, trying to stifle the sobs, cuz I was such a baby, I thought.  Dad came and fished me out and I clung to him like I had the rope.  He checked me over, which is a difficult thing to do with a small child hanging on to you and sobbing.

So after that, I went back to the safe dipping and wading.  Leaving the swinging and swimming til I was older.  Dipping was fun, less dangerous and I still cooled down.

The split was even more special.  We would pile into the VW bug, bright orange, of course.  The local Dairy Queen was quite a drive, it seemed then.  We would order a banana split that seemed so huge and we got to keep the wooden boat it came in.  A few years later, the boats became plastic and the splits were lots smaller.  But, that one split was more than enough for 2 adults in their 20s and 2 small children (I was about 4 and my brother was 6).

When I was little, I'd go a pickin' pickory nuts.  Most folks knew these as Hickory nuts...but you can't very well hick hickory nuts, now can ya?  Dad took my brother and I fishing, hunting, and berrying all through the years.  Dad and we kids would pick apples, pears, peaches, strawberries, etc. and mom would make jellies and jams.  We would go fishing, dad would clean the catch, and mom would cook the mess up.

Dad taught me about maintaining my car.  Together we have worked on more engines, transmissions, and exhaust systems than I would care to count.  We even rebuilt a vehicle once.  Bonding, man, bonding.

Dad is a very thorough person.  He considers and analyzes everything, looking from all perspectives.  His advice is sound, based on lots of pondering.  He is good with explanations and with creating new ways to do things.

He is supportive in my endeavors, to try new things.  But he also understands when I need the comfort of having the samo samo routine, no newness.  He loves me, even when I don't seem to listen to him, or make big mistakes.  That's cool, cuz he's my dad, man and it's great to love the guy, ya know?