Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Rick Santorum

Yesterday my daughter's school hosted a speech by Senator Rick Santorum.

Santorum was there to talk about his new book,  "Bella's Gift:  How One Little Girl Transformed a Family and Inspired a Nation."  The Santorums' eighth child was born with Trisomy 18, a profoundly debilitating condition.  90% of children born with Trisomy 18 don't live past their first birthday.  Next week, Bella will be seven years old.

So we are talking about Victory here, with a capital "V."  The Santorums, as a family, are victorious.

Rick Santorum also know something about defeat.  He lost the 2012 Republican nomination to Mitt Romney, and Romney went on to lose the country.

For all the astonishing, mega-stressful, beyond demanding circumstances in his life, Santorum struck me as -- well, how to put this.  Calm?  Sane?  Normal?

I don't know how people it the public eye do it.  I especially don't know how Rick Santorum does it.  This morning I read that the Disney is planning a sitcom based on the "comedy" of Dan Savage.  You remember him.   The guy who's go-to line when disagreed with is "S*ck my d*ck," and who harbors a special hatred for Rick Santorum.  I won't quote him here.  If you want to read the kinds of things Savage says, here's a link for you:

In a world where people like Dan Savage are offered truckloads of money and televisions contracts, Rick Santorum stands up for sanity and class.  Choose your side, reader.

Tuesday, May 05, 2015

The Move, Cont.

Well I finally had it:  I had The Move Nightmare.

We all remember the Final Exam Nightmare.  The one where you walk into a room to take a final, and it dawns on you that all semester long, you never attended the class.  My version of the drean always continues the same way:  at first I think, Okay, I'm just going to have to fake it.  I'll bluff my way through.  Then I realize the subject is physics or chemistry, and I can't bluff science!  Then, hopefully, I wake up, usually in a cold sweat.

We moved into the new house ten days ago,  and are still surrounded by boxes and boxes and boxes.  I had to go out and buy a new remote before we could watch tv, and I still haven't found the coffee pot.

Last night I dreamed that, boxes or not, I was going to invite some friends for dinner.  Then it dawned on me I only had one pot.  OK, I thought, I got this:  I'll make clam sauce, pour it into a bowl for the microwave and then use the pot again to cook the pasta.

I could only find one can of clams,  I was psyching myself  up to deal with that. Then I realized:  I still haven't found the box with all the spices.  I have no oregano.  I have no dried parsley.  I have no garlic powder,

I  am screwed!

I was just begging my husband to gather our guests together and stall them with some dazzling monologues when I woke up.  In a cold sweat.

I gotta find some more pots.

Friday, May 01, 2015

Ben E. King

Rest in peace.  A great voice matched with a great song.