Oh no, not reality again

I had one of those weekends where, by choice, I was blissfully unaware of what was going on in the world. A nuclear war could have erupted and I wouldn't have known about it, until it was too late, of course.

I'm one of those people who gets addicted to news, but after a certain amount of time can't handle it anymore. Perhaps I take things too seriously sometimes. Who knows. I'll go through stages where I'm all about the news, all the time, and then suddenly, no news for days. Couldn't care less about the news. The news pretty much always sucks, anyway.

Instead, my husband and I watched Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers, The Exorcism of Emily Rose (which was, surprisingly, much better than I expected, although apparently not following the true story it is based on much), and various miscellaneous crap (but enjoyable crap). I finished The Robots of Dawn, baked an apple pie, and made homemade pizza.

All in all, it was a pretty damn good weekend, despite the rainy weather.

But now...back to the news.

Only in the E.U.

Irishman Tommy Savage was convicted on charges of criminal involvement for smuggling four (4!) tons (TONS!) of cannabis into Greece from the Netherlands in 1997.

Guess what his sentence is?

5 years.

Sure, he could only be tried as an accomplice due to lack of evidence, even though they are sure he masterminded the operation. In America (well, Tennessee, as state laws are different) he would have to pay taxes on it, have all his property seized, and would probably get a nice hefty sentence. I've heard of people who received upwards of 20 years for possession, but that might be a myth to scare people off drugs. But you can bet your bottom dollar someone in America accused of smuggling four tons of cannabis wouldn't end up with a 5 year sentence. No, they would probably get life in prison. Hell, some particularly ruthless states might go for the death penalty.

I do know one thing. If marijuana was legal, no one would have to smuggle four tons of it anywhere. But I suppose that is a whole other post.

Murder and Mennonites

On the literary front recently I finished In Cold Blood and A Complicated Kindness. In Cold Blood had been on my list for years and years, and the release of the movie Capote finally nudged me to go get a copy (mainly because I wanted to avoid the inevitable spoilers that might come my way). I am not sure how A Complicated Kindness ended up on my list, but I’m not sorry it did.

In Cold Blood is a mesmerizing, well-written tale about the brutal murder of a farmer’s family in Kansas in 1959 that focuses on the two young men who committed the homicide. What is especially amazing about this book is the tenderness in which Capote writes about the two killers, almost endearing the reader to them. Capote does not deny their guilt or the brutality of their crime, but his enlightening look into the minds and backgrounds of the murderers brings a humanity to them that is unexpected. The story also opens up a dialogue about capital punishment, but I felt it was presented without any sort of judgment or bias from the author.

A Complicated Kindness is set in a Mennonite community in Canada and is told from the point of view of a Mennonite teenager, stunned by the disappearance of her mother. The story is tragic yet funny at times, and the girl’s pain and loss is deeply felt by the reader. Not being familiar with Mennonites I cannot speak to the authenticity of the community represented in the novel, however, it is seems to be a community torn by its strict adherence to the religious rules of their sect. The main characters – the teen and her father – are richly written and quite disturbed, yet somehow the girl manages a glimmer of hope, or at the very least, acceptance.

Right now I am reading The Robots of Dawn to satisfy my increasing robot/scifi fetish. Who knows where I will end up from there.

I'm sorry, I thought this was America

A high school social studies teacher in Colorado was put on paid leave after comparing Bush's State of the Union speech to speeches Adolf Hitler made. The Cherry Creek School District put him on leave pending an inquiry as to whether he violated a policy requiring that "balancing viewpoints be presented in class".

A student apparently taped part of the 50 minute lecture and sent the tape, representing about 20 minutes of the lecture, to a Denver radio station.

On the recording, Bennish told the students that some of Bush's speech "sounds a lot like the things that Adolf Hitler used to say. We're the only ones who are right, everyone else is backwards and our job is to conquer the world and make sure that they all live just like we want them to."

Later in the recording, Bennish said he was not claiming Bush and Hitler were the same, "but there are some eerie similarities to the tones that they use."

This is a valid reason to put a teacher on leave? Because he told his class that there were similarities to the speeches? My economics teacher at Hume-Fogg used to make political cracks all the time, no one thought anything of it. Are we saying that today, in America, social studies and history teachers can't bring up criticisms or comparisons of the current administration with anything that happened in the past, without facing criticism, forced leave, and perhaps dismissal?

I do think it is a valid method of teaching to draw comparisons, and allow students to think about those comparisons and whether or not they agree. This is how we form opinions, after all. Sure, the comparison was against one of the most evil men of the 20th century (second only to Montgomery Burns, I'm sure), but if the comparison fits for this teacher's purposes, so be it.

I know, I know. Plenty of people will say "but these types of things shouldn't be presented in the classroom". Why not? Are we not allowed to discuss current politics in the classroom anymore?
Are we not allowed to discuss Hitler? Can we not compare Hitler to Stalin? FDR to Lincoln? Clinton to Bart Simpson? (I am not making actual comparisons of these people, by the way, I am just throwing things out there)

As these types of cases creep their way into American life, I have to wonder if it is the beginning of something bigger, of something worse. To the final loss of privacy, freedom of speech, and all the things America holds dear - or used to hold dear. Perhaps it is simply liberal overreaction.

I pray that is the case.

UPDATE: Here is a transcript of what was on the tape. I read over it and I still don't see a discussion any different than any discussion that I had in class in high school. The teacher repeatedly states that he just wants the kids to think about these things. In the end, saying that a teacher can't say these things about American politics is like the Japanese saying they can't teach their students about the Chinese/Japanese wars and whatnot. I don't care who you are, you can't avoid some sort of bias in a teacher. And if this teacher was gloriously praising Bush and everything else, none of this would even be an issue. It would all be ok. And if a liberal minded kid taped that discussion and took it home and a parent complained, well, it would be just a bunch of liberals crying over nothing.

Also, was it a Social Studies class, or a simple World Geography class? If it was just geography, ie. locations, captials, populations, exports/imports - then perhaps the discussion was not warranted, although I don't think it should have resulted in him being forced to take leave. I do find it hard to believe, however, that a high school has a simple geography class, without delving into the historical, social, cultural, and political aspects of each country.

EDIT: Julie O. at her site They Get Letters has lots of good information about this case.

Blog Against Sexism

In honor of International Women's Day, Vegankid is hosting Blog Against Sexism Day. This is my offering.

Whenever I went out to eat with a male friend, it was inevitable that the waiter or waitress would set the check down in front of my friend. Sure, occasionally it would occur that the server decided to put it in a neutral position in the middle of the table, but for the most part the check ended up in front of my male companion. This action is rather benign, all things considered, but it works well to illustrate the sexism that runs rampant in American society, among men and women. A non-sexist society would always opt for the neutral placement of the check, but nope, not in America. People still assume the man is paying.

This example, of course, is not a blatant example of discrimination between the sexes. It is rather trivial, something easily corrected, although I always had to laugh if I used my credit card with my name on it and the resulting credit slip was still placed before the man.

Growing up, I would have barely recognized the difference between boys and girls if it weren’t for the common “games” kids play at a young age, revealing the physiological aspects of their different gender. My parents raised me to think that no matter what, I could do or be whatever I wanted. They didn’t force feed feminist ways or ideals into my head, they just ignored normal distinctions between the sexes. Sure, my mother wanted me to wear pretty dresses now and then, but she didn’t argue too much when I preferred pants and tshirts. So when I said I wanted to grow up to be Carl Sagan, neither of them said “but you can’t, because he is a male” or “wouldn’t you prefer to be a teacher, or a nurse?” No, instead my parents said, “well, then go be Carl Sagan.”

Ok, so I didn’t end up anything like Carl Sagan, aside from a propensity for science fiction, the search for intelligent life and a love of χορτo. It is irrelevant, however, because in my mind, had I followed that path, there would have been nothing that could stop me. While I am glad that parents raised me without seeing my gender as a limiting force, I blame them for not preparing me for what I would meet in the “real world”.

I wrote before, in a post on racism, about one of my first jobs, and my misogynistic boss. This was perhaps my first real encounter with sexism.

In my sophomore year of college I started working as a dispatcher for my college security department. The department was crawling with current and ex-military men, most of them misogynistic, several of them racist, and only a couple of them well educated. The director of security at the time (he is no longer the director and is now in fact, deceased) was himself ex-military and ignorant of mind. One of his favorite “jokes” was to laugh and say “a woman can become a patrol officer when she can piss in a cup from 6 feet away”. Now, how he actually thought a man could piss in a cup from 6 feet away is beyond me, because most of the patrol officers couldn’t even seem to aim for the toilet in the single department bathroom. This was not the only “limitation” he saw in a woman’s abilities. This man was misogynistic to the core, and felt that a woman could either be a housewife, a secretary (his assistant director was female, but she did all his dirty work, and ended up essentially a well paid secretary), a teacher or a nurse. He’d occasionally joke that women could be prostitutes and strippers as well but only if they were “stacked” and had nice bodies. He’d scoff at women students, saying he didn’t know why they bothered going to school. He was a real piece of work.

There were times that I couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth. Not only that, I couldn’t believe that the other officials found him amusing and even provided their own sexist comments. At one point there were only three women working there, and while I wouldn’t say anything stooped as low as sexual harassment, we certainly had to deal with a bevy of jokes in poor taste and other insults towards women. Why did we take it? I suppose because we knew that in the end, we were better than these men. We were educated, intelligent women and we weren’t going to let insensitive comments from troglodytes get us down.

In theory, I understand why women are considered the “weaker” sex, not able to do all the same things men can do. It boils down to one thing – pregnancy. Men have to protect their progeny, and the women carrying their progeny. But when you consider that most of us are only pregnant for a fraction of our life span, it just doesn’t add up. Sure, some women aren’t as strong as men. But some are stronger. Intelligence is a grab bag, based on many factors such as genetics, education, environment. I can’t think of anything that men can do that a woman can’t, aside from producing sperm. Yet still some women are paid less than men for doing the same job. Women are underrepresented in the sciences. Women lose out on law partnerships, corporate executive positions, and tenured professorships. Women are still traded as sex slaves in countries all over the world. And women are increasingly losing their right to choose an abortion.

This is not to say that sexism against men does not exist. Male nurses are often laughed at, male secretaries ridiculed. Men still bear the pressure of providing, and ignominy if they can’t provide, even if their wives provide well enough. The bottom line is that until we start to look past the lines that delineate male and female and start accepting the strengths and weaknesses of individuals rather than genders, we can hardly call ourselves civilized people. As long as we continue working towards civilization, there is hope.

Tidbits

I love that a German court has banned a screening of a film about the German "cannibal" Armin Meiwes, on the grounds that he has the right not to become the subject of a horror film.

It is nice to know that you can get suspended from school just for viewing a website. I realize the content was questionable, even dangerous, but really. It just serves as another example of America's declining freedom.

Babies are apparently quite eager to help adults, as this study found that babies as young as 18 months show signs of altruistic behavior. Don't try to trick the babies though - they are too smart for that.

Big Brother is alive and well and scheduled for an appearance at a Metro Nashville park near you. Ostensibly, this program is meant to curb illicit sexual behavior in the parks. What they don't realize is people who engage in illicit sexual behavior of this kind will especially appreciate the presence of cameras. In a common show of insouciance by the American public, one parkgoer claimed "If it eliminates the problem, makes the park safe, I guess that's part of being an American in the 21st century. You have to give up some of your rights." Americans just keep bending over, don't they?

Greece has been accused of dozens of illegal car seizures from foreigners visiting the country. Visitors to Greece have six months before they have to register their foreign cars in Greece, supposedly the seizures only occur once that six months has elapsed. However, many foreign visitors are claiming that is not the case, and they have been fined and their cars seized without cause. I'm not sure what the truth is, but the Greek government has to make up for lost income somehow, right?

Fred Phelps and his congregation of inbred family members just can't stay away from protesting the funerals of dead soldiers. I'm still trying to figure out why Mr. Phelps thinks America supports homosexuality, especially when so many people are doing what they can to make sure gay marriage stays illegal. Phelps maintains that you can't preach the gospel without talking about the hatred of God. Nice religion. It looks like Reverend Phelps has a good old fashioned war on his hands, with hundreds of bikers showing up at funerals to offset the Phelpsian protesters. And mama told me not to go off with guys on motorcycles.

A lesbian at Hood College in Maryland has won the title of Homecoming King. Yes I said king. Now, while generally speaking I don't have problems with such things, I don't think it is really fair for a lesbian who isn't in the process of gender transition to try to take on roles such as homecoming king. A lesbian can still be a lesbian and be queen.

I live in the wrong time zone

So, I stayed up til 7am to watch the Oscars last night. I blame it on Jon Stewart, who did a fabulous job as host and should be asked back next year, although I am not sure the Hollywood audience appreciated him enough. Only Jon Stewart and his team could create campaign ads for leading actress. Only Jon Stewart could wake up in bed with George Clooney. We love ya, Jon.

As to the winners, meh. I am quite happy for Reese Witherspoon, but the rest I have no opinions about, since I haven't seen any of the movies yet. I'm not entirely sure the pimp song deserved the Oscar after hearing all the songs, but none of the songs were really that spectacular. Sorry, Dolly.

The real award should go to Jennifer Garner, who recovered gracefully from a near dive when walking out on stage. Not to mention she is looking great after "recovering" from giving birth.

While we were all sleeping off the glamour of Hollywood's big night, the governor of South Dakota signed new legislation banning nearly all abortions in his state. The only legal abortions would be those that save a woman's life. Ironically, most abortions do seem to save a woman's life, in one way or another. It is a stark reminder that despite all the pioneering efforts made in film to spread the message of tolerance and human rights, the U.S. is still taking steps backwards.

EDIT: Christ, now I read that Tennessee is bringing up a bill that would basically alter the language of the Tennessee Constitution to say that it doesn't "secure or protect the right to an abortion or require the funding of abortion". What is happening to my country?

By what virtue fame

As I wade through entertainment news and all the stories about who is progressing in every reality show, I solemnly realize one thing – fame has become a virtue in the 21^st century Western world. Everyone seems to desire it in one way or another – from participating in a reality show to divulging secrets of the stars - fame, or at least 15 minutes of it, appears to be a driving force in human lives. People can even become famous for doing virtually nothing, as in the case of dear old Paris Hilton, along with a bevy of reality show “stars” who whore their way around in an effort to be “the last one standing”. To be fair, at least the folks on shows like American Idol must sing for their supper, so their fame is won by their talents.

At first I found this whole idea distasteful. How shallow and superficial are the virtues of fame, how empty, devoid of soul. But then I had to wonder how different is this fame from that of the ancient Greeks, who won their fame by honor and glory in battle, by being strong and resourceful leaders, by building a powerful nation? Is it unfair for me to pass opprobrious judgment on today’s standard of fame while glorifying that of the ancients?

Obviously, today we value different things than what the Greek ancestors valued. We aren’t building civilizations here, hell, we aren’t even maintaining civilizations. We live in a society that seems to value the prettiest over the smartest, we suffer day in and day out in our dour, dull lives, and thus, our entertainment, our pleasure, must be beautiful. Yet we derive enjoyment from seeing people just like us frolicking about on television, we revel in a world where anyone can be famous. We fight wars for dubious reasons, there is no code of ethics there, no honor, no expectation. Yet the virtues of the ancients aren’t necessary to maintain today’s society – or are they? Sure, our world can’t be made up of individual city-states with men who are allied together in the event that someone snubs their honor. If honor is at stake today, well, we just pretty much have to grin and bear it. Sure, there is always a guy somewhere willing to step up for his girl, but our society isn’t based on protecting and maintaining honor. I daresay our society is based on protecting and maintaining dishonor, for as long as you can get away with it.

Of course, I can’t say I want to go back to ancient times, when most women were relegated to motherhood and housekeeping, and wars were deadly and frequent. But I sure would like to live in a world that didn’t admire such a shallow and superficial fame so much. It is ok to be dazzled and interested in fame, but to hold it to the high regard we seem to hold it today is a bit unwarranted. It is sad to think that today’s Pericles earns his fame by winning a talent show – and on that note the tensile thread of civilization snaps and breaks, the remnants blowing away in the Saharan wind.

In which I am actually looking forward to the Oscars

For the first time in a brazilian years I am looking forward to the Oscars. Not because I am hyped about the movies that are up for awards. Not because I love the actors and actresses involved (ok, ok, I am SO rooting for Reese Witherspoon, because I think she is a great actress, not to mention a Nashville girl, and us Nashville girls gotta stick together). Not because I love seeing stars dressed up in their finest attire (ok, so I like that just a little bit, especially when someone wears something really atrocious).

No, I am looking forward to the Oscars this year because of the fantabulous Jon Stewart. I can't think of a better Oscar host. And I really hope he isn't too toned down for the Oscars, although I know he can't be like he is on The Daily Show. Or can he?

Sure, it will be on at 3am here, but they will repeat it again at 9pm on Monday. I'll have to do my best to avoid watching any news or reading any blogs before I watch it Monday, although I'll probably still be awake at 3am tomorrow night. Still, the stupid Greek announcer person will be talking all over everything because they won't have had time to subtitle it yet. I don't want anything interrupting my Jon Stewart.

Let me take you down...

Strawberry season has officially begun in Greece. We had our first shortcake a few nights ago - the strawberries were ok, but still not quite ripe.

Today, we got some more fresh strawberries that look FANTASTIC. Rich red, ripe, sweet, gigantic. Genetics are definitely on their side, and soon, they will be in our bellies. Someday we will have a digital camera so I can actually produce proof of such fabulous things, but perhaps it is good we don't. It might make some folks jealous.

Strawberry fields forever.

In which I thought I knew what I was doing

I’ve been progressing well, but slowly, in learning Greek. It is a good pace for me, since sitting and memorizing crap nonstop makes me want to poke my eyes out in an Oedipal rage. Now I realize that some things will need to be memorized, but looking at lists of endings and conjugations and pronouns is akin to looking at some kind of weird modern art, I just don’t get it. It is much easier to learn by practice, and when you see something enough you began to memorize it without really thinking about it.

I’ve been feeling pretty cocky lately as I realize I’m finally getting the hang of it. Remembering how to spell everything for my “quizzes” is much easier when you realize what endings are required for nouns and verbs and whatnot. As I prepared my “homework” for today’s lesson I felt good. I was declining nouns (is that what you say, decline nouns? I’m pretty sure you don’t conjugate them) and knew all my endings and was prepared for my lesson. Imagine my horror when reciting proudly to my mother-in-law and she looked at me sadly and said “no, I’m sorry, that’s not correct.” $*(%*!(%$)#$(#! irregular words. Irregular nouns and verbs should die in a fire.

My confidence shaken, I proceeded to recite the rest of the lesson carefully, suddenly unsure of myself again. Picking up on my distress, my mother-in-law looked at me and said “Is ok. Greek grammar…is difficult. Eh. It will come”.

She is right. It will come. But I still have a long road ahead.

What a marriage must endure

My husband and I disagree about many things, but we bear these disagreements well. Abortion, capital punishment, religion - our opinions are completely antipodal on these matters, yet it doesn't interfere with our happy home.

There is one debate, however, that threatens to sever the marital ties forever: whether or not Mr. Big is right for Carrie on Sex and the City. Yes, yes, I know, the series has come and gone, but somehow this little argument just keeps popping up (probably from watching early episodes of Law and Order). I think Mr. Big is a bad, bad man, and that Carrie should have stuck with Aiden. My husband thinks he is perfect for Carrie, in fact he has gone so far as to suggest that Mr. Big and Carrie are exactly the same type of person. Pfffft. I should have known, really, since he likes Mr. Sloan on Alias.

Still, the vows were for better or for worse, and I suppose I can live with this Mr. Big loving man.
But it shall forever be a test of my patience, and our TV watching will never be the same. Never.

Well, I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree...

...or rather, you can take the girl outta Tennessee but you can't take the Tennessee outta the girl.

Somehow someone ended up here doing a search for "Redneck translator".

Sorry, I may know a lot of redneck, but I sure as hell don't know how to translate it.

Yay for chocolate!

Although seemingly inconclusive, the Dutch did a study of older men in the Netherlands and reported that eating the equivalent of 1/3 of a candy bar a day reduced blood pressure and risk of death.

The researchers say, however, it's too early to conclude it was chocolate that led to better health. The men who ate more cocoa products could have shared other qualities that made them healthier. Experts also point out that eating too much chocolate can make you fat - a risk for both heart disease and high blood pressure.

Well yes, that CAN be a problem. Even so, it seems that this is the largest study to show a possible link to the health benefits of chocolate consumption while also confirming the results of smaller, short term studies. The data was acquired over a decade on Dutch men who were 65 or older in 1985.

Unfortunately for us ladies, the study only included men, so it is uncertain whether or not the same benefits can be found in women. I'll just have to continue doing my own private studies on that one.

To tolerate or not to tolerate, that is the question...

It is so hard to be tolerant in a world that doesn't favor tolerance. I've admitted, in the past, that I have a low tolerance for anything that attempts to incorporate itself onto me - like proselytizing religions, cigarette smoke, noise, the government, etc., etc. I am tolerant, however, of people of different races and religions living around me, as long as they don't butt into my life.

I think the West has done a relatively good job of accepting Muslims into their world. In Nashville, a whole neighborhood was taken over by Kurdish refugees and Belmont University and the surrounding neighbors did all the could to make them feel welcome, including letting the families play and have picnics on the athletic fields and track. How was Belmont repaid for their hospitality? Trash, trash, and more trash. Ah well, they are from a different culture, they have a different way of doing things. So be it. I guess Belmont got them back by buying out their cheap housing and converting it into student housing. But Belmont was growing. So be it. At any rate, Muslims from all over the world have been able to settle without much ado (until after 9/11 of course), in many Western countries all over the world. Sure, things aren't perfect, racism is rampant (even more so because of 9/11) and some Muslims aren't getting treated very well. By and large, though, they have been allowed to immigrate and make their way into new countries to improve their way of life.

There are a few problems. Some Muslims can't accept the fact that in order to live in the West, they need to behave accordingly. They are free to practice their religion, but they aren't free to beat and kill their women. They aren't free to behave exactly like they would behave in their home country. Why? Because they are in a different country, with different laws. If any of us go to a Muslim country we are expected to respect and adapt to their culture, why can't they adapt to ours? Is it really too much to ask?

As the whole Danish cartoon fiasco continues, it seems now that some Islamic groups want to rally their children. So they sent out children, ages 8 - 12, into the streets of Pakistan, burning coffins draped in Danish, Israeli and U.S. flags (wait a minute, when did the U.S. and Israel become involved in this particular debacle??) and demanding death for those who insulted the prophet. Now it is really hard to convince me now that the major concern amongst Muslims was the cartoons, this example specifically tells me that it is about having a rally cry, and the cartoons just gave them a "legitimate" excuse. I just can't accept anyone, anywhere, using their children to rally for a cause, no matter how good or bad, especially children who really can't have much of an understanding of what they are protesting about.

I take issue with parents who teach their children any sort of racism, because these behaviors surely come by example, they aren't innate in us. And these Muslim leaders are, short and to the point, simply teaching their children racism. They aren't teaching them about their religion, they aren't teaching them to respect their prophet, they aren't teaching them anything, really, except hatred. It is really difficult to see Muslims as victims when their battle cry demands victims of the West. It is amazing that a religion that springs from the same roots as Christianity, and even includes Jesus as a prophet, has so much hate at its core. Hate for hate's sake.

I do hope, someday, that those Muslims who are at heart truer to their religion, and not filled with hate, find leaders who can, in the end supercede and decry these fundamentalist leaders of their chosen faith, in the same way most Christians deplore the preachings of Fred Phelps. These demons among us have the ability to destroy us all, but we have the ability not to let them.

This is spinal tap

On the road to becoming a proper psychiatrist, my husband has had to endure some specializing time in Internal Medicine, which seems like the anything goes field of medicine where most patients end up. Just recently he switched to Neurology, where he will learn how to tell the difference between a patient with true neurological problems and one with true psychological problems. I’ve always resented the field of Neurology and their particular tools of torture, including the lumbar puncture (aka spinal tap) and that goddamn reflex hammer.

I quickly learned how best to deal with the reflex hammer as a child. I was constantly annoyed by the doctor’s insistence on using this thing, and while I had some small understanding of the concept of reflexes, I resented the fact that doctors had free reign to just hit people with a hammer. The result was an uncontrollable urge on my part to exaggerate the resulting kick, which usually ended up square in the physician’s abdomen.

One time, however, I ended up kicking him square in the nuts, but being the age I was, I knew not of nuts or the type of pain men experience when hit there with any force. I knew it was perhaps a hard kick because of the short squeak he made, followed by about five minutes of saying nothing at all. But I didn’t realize I had hit the family jewels, so to speak – I had no regrets, and was, perhaps, just a little bit proud of myself for causing him so much pain. You might think, at this point, that perhaps I was the child of Satan, but in all fairness my parents consisted of a drunken fairy and an obsessive compulsive dwarf. All I know is that doctor kept a relatively safe distance from me when using the hammer after that, and he was impossible to kick. Ah well.

Now I have no doubts that the spinal tap is surely a tool of Beelzebub, a means of marking future minions in his fiery domain. When I was around fourteen, I was admitted to the hospital with a relatively high fever (around 104) and a headache to beat the band. I was crying from the pain of the headache, and coupled with the fever but lacking all the normal cold and flu symptoms, I was a bit worried. The doctor on call ordered a spinal tap, but I argued with him, having recently read an article that said if there was any sort of intercranial pressure, a spinal tap could make the brain stem move and result in brain death. I said I thought a CAT scan was perhaps in order to make sure there was no pressure, and he assented, grudgingly. Hey, Mr. Doctor Von PompousAss, I didn’t want to be the one in one thousand that suffers brain death because of a simple mistake.

The CAT scan showing me free of pressure, I had to face my doom. The lumbar puncture. I tried to think positively, I mean, I loved the movie This is Spinal Tap, and now I could say I had a spinal tap. That was kinda cool, right? Uh, not really, but sometimes you have to grasp at straws. Unfortunately for me, I was at Vanderbilt Hospital, which is a teaching hospital, so my spinal tap would be performed by an intern who had never done one before and supervised by a resident. No real doctor would be in the vicinity. It was the wild frontier, I was the kill.

When Intern Numbnuts and Resident McMoron entered the room, they told me that this would be an extra special treat for them because noone ever gets to “practice” on children. Trying to ignore the usage of the word “practice”, I tried hard to mask my lack of enthusiasm. Special treat for doctors usually means special torture for patients, and even at the young age of fourteen I knew that well. McMoron instructed me to lie on my side while the nurse held my hand (my parents had been summarily dismissed from the room). Imagine my dismay when I heard Numbnuts say “Oh my god! Is THIS the needle you use?!?”. The nurse squeezed my hand and gave me an encouraging smile while I rolled my eyes.

Suddenly, McMoron shouted “Wait!!”.

“What?!” Numbnuts sounded shocked.

“You need to apply some anesthesia”.

“Oh, yea, right”.

After applying the numbing solution, I braced for the needle entry. Pain. Horrifying, terrible pain. I screamed holy hell at the top of my lungs.

“Hmmm, maybe we should use more anesthetic?” McMoron wondered.

“Okey dokey”, replied Numbnuts.

More anesthesia was applied, and I prepared myself again. Pain. So much pain. At that moment, the entire lexicon of crude, rude, and offensive words known to me was released, in very loud volume, and probably taught a few of the kids in the children’s hospital a thing or two. I have no doubts that I referred to one or both doctors with the “C” word.

“MORE anesthetic?” queried Numbnuts, uncertainly.

“Sure” answered McMoron.

I honestly didn’t know if I had it in me to endure this horrible feeling again, but I waited. And of course, it still hurt to high heaven. I screamed again, bereft of words or any feeling beyond the excruciating pain at the base of my spine.

“Ok, let’s…” McMoron stammered. I saw both of them backing towards the door, stuttering something about finding another doctor. I am quite certain I heard the sound of shoes squeaking on the floor outside my door once they exited, as if they were running for their lives. Yeah, you better run, nancyboys.

My parents burst into the room, fear for my young life reflecting in their eyes. I looked at them, managed a smile, and told them that the young doctors needed some help. Shortly, the door swung open, and in walked The Professional, looking slick and sure in his tightly pressed white coat. Numbnuts and McMoron cowered in behind him. With a snap of his fingers, The Professional had the nurse escort my parents out of the room, then had her get me back into position, with one hand squeezing mine and the other holding me into place. The Professional spoke not a word. McMoron started with “shouldn’t we use more anes…” and suddenly stopped. Silence.

“That does it”. The Professional left the room as quickly as he came, Numbnuts and McMoron were left to clean up, shock and awe in their eyes. I felt nothing. Nothing.

As they left, Numbnuts stammered a thank you. Yea, you’re welcome. Jackass.

A couple of years later I had another spinal tap, this time without incident, although it still hurt. I can’t imagine a spinal tap ever not hurting, unless you’d been anesthetized three times and finally had a doctor do it right. Still, it was with some glee that my husband told me that now he is in Neurology he might get to perform a lumbar puncture.

I stared at him coldly, and told him I am not sure I can stay married to a devil who performs spinal taps. It just might be a dealbreaker.

Lesson learned

Apparently, in Greece, you are not supposed to turn on the oven, the washing machine, and the boiler at the same time. Not that I am ever that efficacious in my household duties, it just so happened that today I had them all on at the same time. The electricity went out, and when I heard the elevator moving I realized it was just us.

Replacing the fuse didn't work, except that we now know there is not just one fuse, there is apparently a fuse downstairs where the meters are, unlike anything I have ever heard of before. Apparently, when the electricity is cut off by the power company the fuse downstairs is simply removed, which means that felons can just replace the fuse to get their electricity back. How cool is that?

In the end, I spent a grueling 3 hours without electricity. I almost drove my husband mad. I do not handle the lack of modern conveniences well. Not well at all.

Still, for now I'll limit my housework to ensure that all three devices are never used at once. Ah, such sacrifices!

Discovery Channel...why do you do me like that??

This weekend ALL weekend has been Aviation weekend on the Discovery Channel. My husband is is in imminent danger of suffering aviation overdose, and I am in imminent danger of suffering aviation boredom.

If he starts running through the house pretending to be an airplane and shouting "too low terrain! too low terrain!" I am outta here.

Normally, I'm not the type...

But DAMN, this puppy is so cute I think I've gone into sugar shock.

Red dawn

The weather here has been strange. By strange, I don't mean frogs falling from the heavens or tiny Cupids flying around with their little naked butts blowing wind in everyone's face. It has been moderately warm, but the winds have come. By winds, I mean gale force, ships don't go to sea winds. Having been landlocked for most of my life, I never really experienced winds like this on a very frequent basis - only when a tornado was looming near, and even then, the winds never lasted more than a half hour or so. Yet here in Greece, strong winds like this are quite common, especially from late Autumn to early Spring.

Poor Athena has been covered in a fog of red sand, thanks to the vast desert of Africa. Luckily, Thessaloniki is far enough away that we don't experience these things in such measure. When we lived on Kos it was a reality for us though, and I hated it. That sand was everywhere, coating everything, you could feel it in the air you breathe, in your hair, in your eyes.

The heavy winds began last night, amidst the late night Carnivale revellers, and they haven't ceased all day. Despite the imminent danger of flying debris, I love these strong winds - the city, normally filled with noise, becomes quiet, all but the sombre moaning of the wind. The wind groans, it cries, it roars - a lugubrious song of the denizens of a past time. It is as if all the suffering, all the rage, all the glory of Greece's past can be heard in these gales. What a story there is to tell.

I don't think so!

Rex tagged me for a weird meme, and even though I am an avid fan of Rex, since it involves New Math, ritualistic nude moon dancing, and remembering things I have no memory of, I'm copping out. Not to mention it involves admitting things from my past that are better left unspoken.

Sorry Rex!

Ah, lovely

A group of kids in my neighborhood were apparently given whistles for their Carnivale celebrations this year. I keep forgetting how much noise kids are freely allowed to make this time of year.

The big question is, how much more can I take before I march down to the street and take the whistles and crush them forcibly into a million tiny pieces? Θα δούμε. For now, I am drowning myself in the sounds of Vanderbilt's premiere student radio station, WRVU. God bless the internet.

10 more days to go til the celebrations are over. Tick toc, tick toc...

When Supreme Court judges don't need intelligence

I’ve been mulling over an article I read a few days ago reporting that the Italian Supreme Court has ruled that sex crimes against non-virgins are not as serious. I kept waiting, hoping, I suppose, to see some sort of retraction – an early April Fool’s joke perhaps, and it hasn’t come.

Now I know scores of people have been talking about this, in fact are quite incensed about this, and rightly so. I suppose it is a utopian dream, but I am still waiting for the day when the world acknowledges that any sort of sexual contact with a woman without her permission is never, under any condition, acceptable. I don’t care if a woman is standing before a man naked, asking him to fuck her like an animal – if she says no when he approaches her that should be the end of the story. Yet accused men have had their lawyers, sometimes successfully, argue that “she was asking for it, she was teasing me, it shouldn’t be ok for a woman to do that and not expect me to have sex with her”, and somehow judges and juries in their infinite lack of wisdom seem to respond to such things with a sententious “well then” and suddenly the sex offender is getting off with just a slap on the wrist (no pun intended). While I’ll admit that no, it really isn’t ok for a woman to tease and tease and then say no, that doesn’t serve as justification to have sex with her against her will.

The court ruled in favor of a man in his forties, identified only as Marco T., who forced his 14-year old stepdaughter to have oral sex with him after she refused intercourse.

The man, who has been sentenced to three years and four months in jail, lodged an appeal arguing that the fact that his stepdaughter had had sex with men before should have been taken into consideration during his trial as a mitigating factor.

The supreme court agreed, saying that because of her previous sexual experiences, the victim's "personality, from a sexual point of view, is much more developed than what would be normally expected of a girl of her age".

"It is therefore fair to argue that (the damage for the victim) would be lower" if the abused girl was not a virgin, Italian news agencies quoted the court as saying.

This means the man could now be handed a lighter sentence.

This court’s decision throws Italy back into the Stone Ages as far as women’s rights are concerned. It is hard to believe that a court of law could make a rational decision stating that if a 14-year old girl is more mature sexually than other girls her age, any type of sexual predation is less damaging to her. Excuse me? Being forced to give fellatio (to a stepfather, no less) is less damaging because the girl has had sex before? Is there crack smoking involved in this court’s decision making process? Can they honestly say that a woman who has had a few sexual partners is less damaged by a violent rape than a woman who is a virgin?

I’ll tell you what. I’m assuming that most of these judges have had sex before (although I doubt any woman would have sex with them now). Now, lets say someone (woman or man, doesn’t really make a difference) forcibly shoves something up their asses against their will. Now can they come back to the court and tell us that it isn’t as damaging to them because their wives stick their fingers in their assholes now and then? Think about that for a minute, and tell me it doesn't suck.

Sex is a very personal thing. To think for one minute that “being used to sex” makes a rape less “damaging” takes the thinking ability of someone barely evolved from an ape.

Italy needs to work hard to get some new folks on their court. And god forbid any woman in Italy gets sexually assaulted in the next few years.

Not something you wanna hear when giving birth

Rosario said: "I got scared when the nurses said: 'Oh my God!'.

These nurses were reacting to a 15 lb, 22 inch long baby that was born in Spain recently. For me, had I heard such words I would have immediately assumed some sort of hornage or alien features on my newborn.

I realize I've often said I'd like to give birth to a fully grown child, but I mean it in the manner of Athena springing from Zeus' head, not in the manner of an unusually large watermelon springing forth from a vagina. I'd like to keep it separate from my anus, thankyouverymuch. In my opinion, any woman who has a vaginal birth of an exceptionally large baby deserves sainthood, or at the very least a medal. Yeeshk.

When the doctor is the patient

For three years of marriage I had wondered when this would happen, and finally, it did.

My husband was stricken.

Sure, he has had a cold or two but he never gets so sick he can't take care of himself. But two and a half weeks ago he started having problems with his back, a condition inherited from his father. For two weeks he continued to go to work every day, saying "oh I'll come home early" (he came home early twice) and "I'll be ok". He worked two 24 hour shifts during that time, and every day at the hospital is busy on his feet. "I'm fine", was the mantra of the day. As if someone half bent over with icicles shooting out of his back is actually fine.

Friday he came home after an especially busy day, a little bit worse for wear. At first I thought he was just attempting the famous Michael Jackson "Moonwalk" manuever, turns out he was simply walking. Saturday morning he woke up and had regressed to a more apelike de-evolution, completely hunched over and barely able to move. By Sunday he lay prostrate on the floor, babbling and drooling as if possessed by the soul of a gomer. Things were not looking good.

To his credit, he isn't a very demanding patient. Sure, he has an electric taser that he shoots at me if I am late bringing him his medicine, and lets not forget the little bell that he just WONT STOP RINGING. Seriously though, get him set up in his computer chair with a hot water bottle, a bottle of water and all his medicine and he is set for a few hours. He is about the only person I know with muscle spasms that laughs when it happens. Since he is a doctor, the sadomasochism makes sense.

As of today, he seems to be markedly better, and plans on making a go of attempting to work tomorrow. It is really too bad, because I will miss the opportunity to point and laugh everytime he takes a dive from a back spasm. At least he'll have his fellow physicians for that.

Dubya hasn't made the list...yet

A survey of presidential historians by the University of Louisville has revealed what the historians consider to be the top 10 Presidential blunders of U.S. history. James Buchanan has topped the list, for failing to do more to prevent the Southern states from seceding prior to the Civil War. Obviously, I wasn't around during Buchanan's presidency (perhaps in another life?) but I don't think presidents are magicians. From what I've read of the history of the time period, I seriously doubt any president could have done anything to prevent secession - anything Constitutional, at least. Besides, at this point in time I'm not entirely sure secession would have been a bad thing. I'm just saying.

Clinton's Lewinsky debacle makes number 10 on the list, although I am not sure it deserves a spot at all. It is the kind of thing I consider a personal mistake, not a presidential one. Yea, yea, I've heard it, if he lied about this...he could lie about anything. Hello, kettle?

Andrew Johnson made the number 2 spot for siding with Southern whites after the Civil War and impeding civil rights improvements for Southern blacks. To me, this one should be number 1.

Tricky Dick landed in the number 5 position for his involvement in Watergate. He got off easy on this list.

It is an interesting survey, and comforting to know that presidents of all political persuasions have always been mucking things up.

Forget Freedom Fries, how about Roses of the Prophet Muhammad?

In a scathing political move, bakeries in Iran have changed the name of Danish pastries to "Roses of the Prophet Muhammad" in protest of the cartoons published in a Danish newspaper in September.

It seems that most customers in Iran really couldn't give a damn.

"I just want the sweet pastries. I have nothing to do with the name," shopper Zohreh Masoumi said.

Ah, a voice of reason! Seriously, though, does changing the name really prove anything? The whole "freedom fries" fiasco never really ran its course in the U.S.

Still, I have to say I am a bit annoyed by this. I'll be damned if you can get a danish of any kind here in Greece, yet they seem to be popular in Iran. I think I'll have to protest.

In which I continue to humilate my husband

My husband talks in his sleep. I don’t mean an occasional mmhmm or uhuh, oh no, that would be too simple for our life. Typically, I stay awake reading long after my husband has fallen asleep. Every once in awhile, I am surprised to find him sitting upright, eyes wide open, looking at me, as if he wants to say something.

ME: Are you ok?

HUBBY: Claws too from there

This makes tiny springs erupt from my brain and hit the inside of my skull. I proceed cautiously.

ME: What?!???

HUBBY: It true from now. Ok and then.

He looks at me curiously, desperate to get his message across.

ME: (giggling a bit) Babe, I don’t understand you.

HUBBY: Wiesel fizzle whats

ME: (laughing) OK, I see. Go back to sleep.

At which point he gives me a look of relief, falls again to his pillow and resumes snoring immediately.

Now, while I do indeed find it amusing, I also find it a bit creepy. I have come across these sleep talkers before, and they all act the same, wide awake, as if they have some sort of message to convey. Of course, none of them have any memory of the episode, and nothing they say while sleeptalking makes an iota of sense. I’m certain that even if no one else was around, they would still do the same thing.

Personally, I like to think my dreams make perfect sense, and that if I suddenly awoke in the middle of one and tried to talk about it people would understand me. But perhaps not. What exactly is our brain doing, and why does it make some people wake up, seemingly wide awake, and need to talk? I could get really creative and paranoid and say these people are being mind-controlled by aliens, but since I make sure my husband and our three cats wear their aluminum helmets at all times, I know this isn’t possible. When people sleeptalk, is it actually residue from a dream, or is the dream still going on, and thus the language centers in the brain can’t put coherent sentences together?

All I know is once my husband goes back to sleep, I get a case of the willies. He acts so awake, so sentient, and yet apparently, he was asleep the entire time. I don’t know what it is about the idea of someone being asleep yet interactive in the waking world that creeps me out, but it seems like some sort of line you shouldn’t cross. Like being a zombie, or something. And what happens if you get stuck in the waking world while you are still asleep? Creepy thought, isn’t it?

For now, I’ll have to keep a record of my husband’s nonsensical verbiage, just in case it is a message from beyond. Maybe someday I’ll figure out what exactly wiesel fizzle whats means.

If I had a brain, I would be dangerous

My brother's birthday is on February 14th, and despite the fact that this is a well-known and well advertised holiday, I always forget. It is also the birthday of another good friend of mine, and as per usual, I forgot his as well (obviously, if I forget one I forget the other).

I was pretty bad about birthdays when I lived in the U.S. and it was easy to send cards out in time, here in Greece it is damn near impossible, in fact, I've pretty much given up. Still, I like to send out the email in time, at least. It just never happens.

Too bad my brother doesn't read the blog, or he'd see how bad I feel. Ah well.

Thursday is full of amusing things

Bruce Willis lambasted Oprah for chewing out James Frey on her show. Don't mess with John McClane, woman!

An Indian director wants Paris Hilton to play Mother Teresa? Apparently there is some slutty Mother Teresa I don't know about.

Madonna had a hernia. She should really stop trying to impress people with how agile she is these days. Between her skinny ol' grandma legs, the skimpy leotards (seriously, quit wearing these, we all know you are fit for your age), and the kicking and stretching, she is really creeping a lot of people out.

Why can't the world just let David Hasselhoff fade away?

Countries need to get more original with their flag colors.

Attack of the killer toad.

Teflon might cause cancer? Bah, I'll take cancer over scrubbing pans anyday!

The Incredible Hulk is now a sheriff's deputy. And all was right with the world.

One fifth of Americans are paranoid. Yea, because bitching at your mom over the phone is what the government wants to listen to. We know they especially love the calls where people talk to grandchildren and nieces and nephews. And don't forget the phone sex. The gummint loves the phone sex.

Mama wasn't wrong

South Korea's Consumer Protection Board did a survey to find out which commonly used public item is the biggest source of bacteria. Six items were tested, including shopping cart handles, bus straps, mice at Internet Cafes, doorknobs in public toilets, elevator buttons and straps in the subway.

Not surprisingly, shopping cart handles had the highest amount of bacteria. When I was growing up, my mother was always very strict about our hand washing. Always after going to the bathroom, handling money, and especially after going to the grocery store. I finally came to the conclusion that any time I go out in public I should wash my hands when I get home, because lord knows there will be something I touched that ten bajillion hands have touched. If I actually took the time to think about it, I'd never go out in public.

We are all filthy little creatures, after all. A bacterium's wet dream. I find it rather hard to accept that bacteria and virii are organisms that are just trying to survive in the world, just like you and me. The idea that they mutate and evolve freaks me out a little bit. But I try to be tolerant of these microscopic organisms. You never know if one day they might save us.

A tribute to the Winter Olympics

Every time I get into an Olympics discussion with people (it happens a lot more often than you'd think!) I am always lambasted for liking the winter games best. I get various responses, from "ice skating is gay" to "they don't have real sports at the winter Olympics" to "winter games are so boring".

These have to be people who have never truly watched winter Olympic coverage. My typical response to these people is generally "snow + ice + slippery = fun". After the last few days of watching various things off and on, my husband (formerly one of the naysayers) seems to be a bit more interested. Of course, this year's games have really helped to prove my point, what with all the falling and sliding and cross-country ski pileups.

Last night we were watching downhill skiing, and one guy totally wiped out hard core. Once I realized he was ok, I said to my husband:

"See, right there. That is why the winter Olympics are so fun".

He nodded in agreement.

Snow + ice + slippery = fun. Every damn time. As long as no one really gets hurt, of course.

Feline conundrum

It really amazes me how many web searches for "uses for a dead cat" end up here. I have to wonder if all these people actually have dead cats they want to find a use for, or if they are just looking for information on the book 101 Uses for a Dead Cat.

I guess that is better than the person who ended up here with the search phrase "my husband is a pothead". My husband is definitely not a pothead.

If he is like Jesus, I am like the Virgin Mary

I am puzzled. Downright flummoxed. I am beginning to wonder if perhaps certain public figures are getting a strong dose of some hallucinogenic in their drinking water. We have Pat Robertson going nutso, Mr. Iranian President half-cocked, and now Berlusconi, who first decided to give up sex, has now decided he is like Jesus Christ. I imagine he and Kanye West have the same press agent.

The Napoleon comparison was bad enough, but now he is taking on the high holiest of holies.

But then he went on to complain that he feels like what he called "the Jesus Christ of Italian politics".

"I'm a patient victim. I put up with everything. I sacrifice myself for everyone," he said.

Awww, poor wittle witalian politician. Has he sacwificed himself too much?

Yes, I see that common language in Italian allows you to say "poor Christ" about someone without blaspheming, but I really don't think that is the case here, especially after the Napoleon comment and that fact that the world knows that Berlusconi is batshit crazy.

I guess the world will be ok, as long as he doesn't start comparing himself to Hitler or Mussolini.
At least the Italians have the power to get him out of office.

Sweepage

My husband and I just got sucked in, or rather entranced, by the curling match between Sweden and Canada, two countries that are obviously dead serious about their curling.

Neither of us completely understand how the game is played, but according to the commentators there can even be an element of danger in some plays. I suppose if that huge shell of a rock thing is hurling through the air at 100mph it could be dangerous. There is lots of shouting while the thing is shooting down the ice, a lot of "NO!" and "Ahhh!" and what have you. The commentators are making a bit of fun of the Swedish and Canadian girls and their vocabulary.

I'm not sure we can handle all the danger involved in curling, so we'll watch Air Crash Investigation instead.

The snow monster

See, snow panic is universal.

Unless, of course, you life in a place where it snows all the time. (which I realize would make it not universal but, oh well, la di da, blah blah blah)

I'm making up countries now

My husband is working one of the famous doctor 24-hour shifts tonight, and as we were talking on the phone about some random subject matter involving our northern neighbors I meant to say Slovakia and instead repeatedly called that good nation Souvlakia. Now, I know I wouldn't pass up the chance to name any brand new nation but we'll chalk this one up to hunger and ignore the fact that I experienced a brain fart of catastrophic proportions.

This, by the way is what is known as a blogemptive strike (ah, dear Socrates would be so proud). I blogged this before my husband had the chance to embarrass me himself.

Celebrity boxing

Pat Robertson vs. Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

Wouldn't this be a great match up? They are both the same shades of batshit crazy, with the uncanny ability to talk out of their asses. Ahmadinejad has repeated for the umpteenth million time that the Holocaust is a myth, and that the Jews are the ones perpetrating a holocaust against Palestinians and Iraqis. He probably also thinks tiny purple gnomes steal his underwear while he sleeps and that agents from the planet Mookou will come rescue him in the last days of the apocalypse.

What is it about religion that makes some people so paranoid? I realize the whole Israeli/Palestinian situation is all kinds of out of control, but from where I'm sitting both sides are equally to blame. I still have to wonder, has religion made the world better, or has it made us all haters?

I'd say that was a pretty big problem

As I was flipping channels today, I noticed a big headline splashed across the screen when I passed CNN International:

DOCTORS SAY SHARON'S BIGGEST PROBLEM IS COMA

Ok, you know, I don't like to laugh at such things, but seriously people, the only problem bigger than coma is death. Why is it that so many headlines and media stories are so stupid these days? Do they think their viewers are all completely idiotic? Or are they just hardpressed for enough news to fill 24 hours (for a funny take on this get America(The Book): A Citizen's Guide to Democracy Inaction) so we get all the "no duh" stories?

All I know is I am getting damn tired of the media.

Strange themes at the Winter Olympics Opening ceremony

Well, the opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics is on right now, and they are currently doing the long parade of countries and their atheletes.

The introduction was a sight to behold, if you fancy postmodern, industrial, neofuturist themes with cows. It wasn't bad, but it seemed a bit sloppy at times. Not as interesting as the Athens Olympics opening ceremony, and I am not saying that with any hint of a bias.

I AM looking forward to the swoosh swoosh of the skiing and the skating. The Greek team is kinda skimpy but hopefully they'll do well.

EDIT: As the torch is being lit, I have to say, it has improved some. It really hasn't been a bad opening ceremony (of course, we were playing World of Warcraft while watching). And it has had lots of really nice things, like the giant human skier and the human bird thing. Besides, who can complain about Peter Gabriel singing John Lennon??? The torch lighting was quite impressive.

And that is the end of live blogging (sort of) the opening ceremonies.

Divorce? Are we talking divorce?

My husband had to go to the post office today to pay a bill and pick up a package. The post office (as well as many other places) uses the old fashioned "take a number" system rather than waiting in line.

Imagine my horror when my husband met up with me at the grocery store, and proudly displayed the number he had gotten at the post office.

A380

Yep, he takes the Microsoft Flight Simulator thing just a bit too far.

Do the funky chicken

The avian flu threat looms ever closer, as swans found dead around the Thessaloniki area appear to be infected with the non-lethal to humans H5 form of the virus. Samples have been sent to the WHO labs in London to see whether or not they had the H5N1 form of the virus or not. On top of that, one of the people who helped clear the dead birds is a new army recruit, who has landed at the army hospital here in Thessaloniki (otherwise known as my husband's hospital) for observation. The hospital will likely be on the news tonight, in a media frenzy of fear and panic.

I know that the recent Siberian temperatures had forced birds to fly further south for habitation, many of these birds settling here in Greece. I wonder if that migration added to the spread of the flu, especially in areas in Africa that are getting reports of the virus.

Well, here's hoping Greece is ready for the outbreak, large or small, whatever the case may be.

Watch it, Grandma!

Seeing a bunch of elderly Finns on swings, seesaws, and climbing on childish contraptions must be a sight to see. The University of Lapland has been researching ways to make activities more fun for the elderly, and figured sending them off with the children to the local playground was one way to go about it.

A team at Rovaniemi Polytechnic studied one group of 40 people, aged between 65 and 81, and found there were significant improvements in balance, speed and co-ordination after just three months of larking about on the climbing frames and play equipment.

Given that more than a third of elderly people say they are nervous moving about because of a fear of falling, these are statistics that interest people working with senior citizens.

Well, I think this is pretty cool. But one has to wonder about the playground brawls that might ensue.

"Get out of the way, Grandma, that's MY swing!"

Finnish playground manufacturer Lappset is already on board, creating "3 generational play" equipment, suitable for kids, their parents, AND their grandparents.

Many fear that corpulent, inactive parents will simply fall off the swings and see-saws and sue the council, or aggressive teens and 20-somethings will drive the toddlers from the park and vandalise the equipment.

Indeed, the Finnish manufacturer has found that it has to make its equipment extra sturdy for the British because of the levels of vandalism.

It seems it simply does not occur to Finnish youth to destroy things that are built for their pleasure.

There are also cultural barriers. In tests on groups from different countries, the Germans were found to be fondest of having the generations play together.

The French seemed to prefer to control children.

I think it all sounds like fun. But getting the world to agree...that might be a different story.

Linguistics or geekiness?

My husband is into the whole Microsoft Flight Simulator world, which is apparently a rather large world with organizations and ranks and events and training and barbecue suppers and satanic rituals and what have you. Now, this obsession (oh, I meant hobby) of his doesn't bother me except for a) the sickening geek factor of the whole thing and b) the fact that when he is talking on his little microphone to his little flying buddies they say "tree" instead of "three". Now, supposedly this is some linguistics issue - it is easier to understand "tree", but I really think it is just to amplify the geek factor.

And the correct answer to the question "will he ever take real flying lessons?" is "over my dead body".

I'm sure that can be arranged.

Culinary meltdown

Everyone in Greece seems to have a certain preference for the north or south of the country – the north being represented by Thessaloniki and the south being represented, of course, by Athens (despite the fact that obviously there are places MUCH farther south than Athens). When I lived in Athens, I did not understand how anyone in their right mind could WANT to live in Athens – aside from people who grew up there and had family there, and I even found those people questionable. Athens is a veritable hell-hole, filled with smog, dirt, trash, pushy street vendors and way too much traffic. There are also alleged cultural and sociological differences between north and south, most notably, that people in the north are friendlier and that the food, even the same dishes, can be very different in Athens and Thessaloniki.

I am not what one might call a culinary cognoscente. I am a very picky eater, which means I am a very childish eater, which means if I don’t like the look, smell, or idea of something I won’t even try it once. My parents learned this the hard way, because they always made me try something once, and inevitably I would hate it – hate it so much, in fact, that I would vomit. I figured it would be best to avoid such embarrassments in my adult life, so when it comes to food, I am not adventurous. I enjoy a variety of ethnic cooking, but nothing too over the edge (ie. simple sweet and sour pork, basic pasta, plain enchiladas, etc.). My single claim to fame in the extravagant foods department is a liking and tolerance for extra hot and spicy things, which most people seem to balk at.

Getting used to the local cuisine was the single most dreaded hurdle of my move to Greece. I hadn’t fancied most Mediterranean dishes I had tried before, and Greeks are not really shy about the kind of thing they will kill and cook (I’ll never forget the day I first saw roosters in the butcher’s case). I wasn’t ever fond of upteen kinds of meat, and I didn’t know if they would have the right things in the grocery store to fix the kinds of food I liked, so I arrived prepared to turn up my nose at anything that was set before me.

Much to my surprise, we had a gyros place close to us in Athens that had delicious gyros (not at all like any I had tried in America) and a new condiment type of thing I had never heard of before called tzatziki, which is a mixture of yoghurt, garlic, dill, cucumbers – it all depends on the recipe. It was delicious, and I was hooked. Much to my dismay, however, tzatziki didn’t always taste the same everywhere you got it – in fact, sometimes it was quite horrid.

When we moved to Kos I lamented. How would I ever find any Greek food I could stand to eat? What about my favorite tzatziki? I was in luck, though, as we had two excellent tavernas right around the corner. Their gyros weren’t the best, but one of the places had really good chicken souvlaki, and the other had the most delicious keftedakia and homemade tzatziki you could die for (I managed to coax the recipe out of them before we moved). Obviously, I didn’t have time to miss our favorite fast food joint in Athens.

But of course, when it was time to move to Litochoro, I was lugubrious again. A little mountain village! And in the north! What could they possibly fix that I would like?! Also, by this time I was really starting to miss good old fashioned American pizza. Greeks tend to use gouda or some other type of cheese on their pizzas instead of mozzarella, and their sauce just doesn’t cut it most of the time. To my amazement, there was a pizzeria in Litochoro that was run by a Greek family who had had a pizza joint in Brooklyn. This was good pizza. We also found another excellent gyros/souvlaki place, and the local supermarket chain just happened to have a brand of tzatziki from their deli that was to my liking, so all was right with the world. Not to mention we were far enough north that we could start getting bougatsa (a sweet breakfasty thing)when we wanted – which is something you can’t usually find in the south. We also found a place that made such good spanikopita that all other spanikopita is ruined for us. Ruined!

When it came time to move to Thessaloniki I didn’t worry. We would have my mother-in-law’s home cooking when we wanted and it was my husband’s hometown. Surely there would be plenty of places to get good gyros, souvlaki, and tzatziki. Alas, I was wrong. Thessaloniki can’t seem to get this stuff right. We’ve shopped around for good gyros and souvlaki, and while it hasn’t been bad, it hasn’t been great, either. But I can’t find a good tzatziki to save my life. Not in any taverna, not in the grocery store, nowhere. I suppose I will have to break out the recipe from Kos and make it myself. But that requires effort! And of course nothing matches the pizza place in Litochoro, not even Pizza Hut. The only thing Thessaloniki does right is bougatsa. I suppose that’s something.

What? No Gary Oldman in the next HP film?

According to Wizard News, via the Gary Oldman fan site, Oldman's manager confirmed that they have not been contacted about his appearance in the next Harry Potter movie, The Order of the Phoenix.

Now, this is dire news for some Harry Potter fans (like me), who picked Oldman from the beginning to play the role of Sirius Black and thought he did a smashing job in The Prisoner of Azkaban.

Please, don't let the gods of Harry Potterdom go cheap on us and cast someone else for the part. We want Oldman!

UPDATE: Wizard News is now reporting the confirmation of both Oldman and David Thewlis. Phew!

Rode hard and hung up wet

Well, I'm a bit tired of speaking my mind regarding the Danish Muhammad cartoon imbroglio. Suffice it to say, if it becomes ok for Muslim leaders to order hits (I'm sorry, I mean fatwas) on anyone who does anything in the west that they don't like, well, we all might as well be Muslims (I say this referencing some hard line Muslim leaders who stated that if the fatwa on Rushdie had been carried out, this cartoon thing would have never happened). This article by Chicago Sun-Times Columnist Mark Steyn sums up my feelings quite nicely.

Thanks bunches!

Do you get the sarcasm in that title? It is the sarcasm of the preppy blonde who really hates the person she is talking to. I've spent a nice chunk of my afternoon deleting 105 spam comments from the house cleaning posse, and thus, I have resorted to word verification on comments for now.

While I firmly believe that people who do such a thing - besides the inevitable bad karma they will surely experience - should be thwapped repeatedly with a wet noodle for hours on end, it is impossible to identify such individuals. So, do it again and the cute puppy gets it.

In the meantime, the snow has been lovely, and falling steadily all day. Unfortunately, my husband's underwear that was on the clothesline bought it. Apparently, snow doesn't behave like rain, and even the protection of the awning didn't prevent his tighty whiteys from getting snow soaked. Ah well.

Surprise!

It was cold today, and while we knew there was a chance of snow, it seemed to be simply rainy all day. Lo and behold, when I just went outside to move some laundry around, I looked at the street and saw everything covered with snow!

Of course, there will be major panic in the city tomorrow. But for now, all is peaceful and white.

Is something rotten in Denmark?

Some people have been looking for a link to the Danish Muhammad cartoons I referenced in this post. Well, here they are. One of them I actually think is quite nice, another one I find pretty funny, in a horrible way. I am also linking to an article that offers an explanation of the context of the cartoons - and why the Danish newspaper commissioned them.

Here's hoping, somehow, some way, we can all find some peace in this storm.

More advice for men

If you make arrangements to eat Sunday dinner with your parents, please inform your wife so as to avoid the look of confusion and horror on her face when her mother-in-law starts a sentence with “When you come for dinner on Sunday...”

The new math

I worked at my university’s Safety and Security office (OSS) for a good portion of my early adult years, starting out as a dispatcher and eventually moving on to the oh-so-glamorous role of office manager. The director at the time I became office manager was quite aware of my writing skills, and since I loved to write - even inane, technical things – I took on the responsibility of handling all the written materials that evolved from our department. These materials included my director’s correspondence, monthly crime reports, the annual security report, and a monthly newsletter distributed campus wide.

Now the key was making some of these things interesting, perhaps even provocative to the dozen or so readers who might actually come across these publications. The annual report I couldn’t do much with, since it had specifics that needed to be adhered to and these specifics, no matter how hard you tried to dress them up, were never fit for the red carpet. The monthly crime reports were just as difficult, but I had fun coming up with various ways to say stolen since the most common crime on campus was theft. Obviously, I couldn’t use the same word five or six times over, so the monthly crime reports were laden with terms like pilfered, purloined, and my favorite – filched – and to a small extent, people started to notice. My director was pleased at this small effort to “smarten up” the department, and of course, it didn’t stop there. The newsletter was all mine, and while safety and security information and tips weren’t the most interesting or erudite of topics, I did my best to find ways to make it readable.

My coworkers, for the most part, were not college educated. Some were in school at the time (like me) but mostly the officers were made up of retired military men. A lot of them were good people, but several of them scoffed at the idea of higher education, whether from jealousy or a genuine disregard for it, I don’t know. They often derided me for my choices of words in the crime reports and the newsletter. I remember one word choice – ameliorate, caused such a stir amongst the officers that it is amazing World War III did not erupt on that small corner of the campus.

(Imagine thick Southern accents here)“Nobody knows what that word means” they told me. “Nobody will read it if they don’t understand it.”

“This is a college campus” was my reply. “If they don’t know the word, then I assume they know how to use a dictionary.”

“Nobody’s gonna open a dictionary” they said. “It’s a stupid word. You can’t write things for the public that are above a 6^th grade level.”

And so on, and so forth. This discussion went on for a couple of days. At the same time, I began to question what it means to write for the general public. Was it true that most people couldn’t read above a 6^th grade level? Was it true that people wouldn’t open a dictionary? How would people learn new vocabulary? Do adults really just stop learning new words?

A couple of years later, I had an interview at an advertising agency. After going over my work, and the “sample” they had me prepare, the woman told me that I wasn’t writing for a general audience, and that I belonged in a university or scholastic setting. It was brutal, it was honest, and I was crushed. Despite my best efforts, I wasn’t reaching the public. What did this mean? Was I a pedantic snob? Was I wrong to tempt my newsletter reading college audience with words like ameliorate?

I’ve since read articles about journalistic writing that actually said to keep your language simple to reach the broadest audience. The lowest common denominator. Is this really how the media should be treating the public? Is this really what the media should expect of the public? Shouldn’t we do more to raise the bar, instead of keeping it low?

Words have become whores to the media and the publishers who just want to make money, sell the story. Slaves to the lowest common denominator. I wish I could find it now, but I read an article a month or so ago that was reporting on people who had Nobel prize winning manuscripts sent to publishing houses as “fresh” works, and they were all discarded, rejected. Would we see Faulkner published new today? Fitzgerald? Welty? O’Connor? Hemingway? Need I list more?

It really makes you wonder what we are missing, doesn’t it?

Introducing Luna Lovegood...

All the parts have been cast for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and shooting is scheduled to start next week. 14-year-old Evanna Lynch has been chosen to play the part of Luna Lovegood, and I think she looks right for the part. We'll see how well she pulls it off.

The official press release can be found here. I can't wait to see it in 2007!

Happy Groundhog Day!

Well, it looks like good ol' Punxsatawney Phil has predicted 6 more weeks of winter. It is a a really remarkable thing, as there just so happens to be 6 more weeks until the first day of spring!

Today is also known as the Celtic holiday of Imbolc, marking the halfway point between winter and spring. Other popular names for today include Candlemas and Brigid's Day. Traditionally Imbolc was celebrated on February 1st, but it seems there has been some mixing of holidays, and so many people now recognize February 2nd as the "official" festival day.

Let us revel in the waxing of the light, as we look forward to the rebirth of the Spring.

Advice to men

When having a discussion with your wife or partner, DO NOT at any point in the conversation tell your beloved that her behavior resembles that of your mother. This does not help the conversation in the least little bit, no matter how much she actually is like your mother or how much she likes your mother.

I hope this helps.