a heartening development

I had LOTS of trick or treaters this year. LOTS. More than previous years. I gave out almost all the candy I bought.

This makes me happy. I see trick or treating as one of the simple pleasures of childhood. (I realize some may disagree with me for religious reasons, and that's fine for you. I grew up in a fairly observant family and there never seemed to be "evil" or satanic overtones to Halloween to me - and of course the next day is All Saint's Day. We kind of saw it in two ways: first, as a fun day to go out and do what you don't normally do (go out at night, eat more candy than normally permitted) and second, as a day to laugh at what scares you).

I'm glad it's not been swept away completely by the increased "convenience" or imagined greater "safety" of taking the kids to the mall instead, or doing a parking lot "trunk or treat." Oh, maybe some of the kids I saw did that too, but they also got out to do the old-school way of trick or treating, like I did as a kid.

I always try to buy the "good" candy; on a tip from a parent I know, this year I went for Skittles and 3 Musketeers bars and little Twix bars, those all seemed to be big hits. Most of the kids thanked me and a few really got excited when they saw what they were getting.

I like seeing all the trick or treaters. The tiny little kids in their tiny little costumes (cutest one this year - a babe in arms dressed as a bumblebee), the slightly older kids trying to pick the coolest or goriest costume (there were quite a few grim reapers this year, and there was one kid dressed as a Zombie Michael Jackson. Maybe a bit inappropriate, I don't know, but it was a pretty good costume (it was homemade)).

It makes me happy that this tradition survives. I hope it continues to, despite all the "bad news" about sex offenders and danger lurking in the candy and the recession and all that other crap - when you're a kid, you don't remember what's going on in the news (I don't remember much of Carter other than that he had a big toothy grin and used to be a peanut farmer, and I don't really remember the Carter Recession or the oil crisis (other than waiting in long lines to buy gas with my dad and him cussing a bit about it) but you do remember stuff like trick or treating.

And I think parents do, too. I know I get a lot of pleasure, even as a non-parent, from handing out the candy - it must be a lot of fun to take your kid out and see them get excited and have them all dressed up.

Something happy

...though in a twisted way, the post right before this one could be classed as happy.

I missed posting this on Father's Day, but that's OK; part of it was that I was on the phone with my own dad. But I do want to share this story; it's one of my favorite memories from that time of my life and, I think, proof of Why My Dad Is Awesome:

I attended one of the "Public Ivy" universities. My dad taught at a much smaller school - it was kind of one step above a community college. I could have gone there for free but he encouraged me to go to the (expensive) "Public Ivy" because they had a much better biology department.

But to try to save some money - and also get done faster - I took a lot of the distribution courses and cognate courses over the summers from his school. They were free, and also they allowed me to get things out of the way.

One big one was Physics. Everyone who knew anything about majoring in science told me "Do not take physics and organic chemistry at the same time; it will make you crazy because of the workload."

So I decided to take Physics in the summer at my dad's school. Physics I one summer; Physics II the next.

Physics I went really well. The teacher was older - I think just a few semesters from retirement. He was a good teacher, and he was easygoing and had a good sense of humor. Also, the topics - vectors and electricity being two I remember - made sense to me and I did well in the class.

Physics II was the next year. This was the year my dad took early retirement, and he had hired me (once my class was out for the day) to help him for a couple hours each day to pack up his office, to pack up the stuff he had bought on grants that was his "personal" lab equipment he could take with him, and also to clean up/clear out the research labs so the new guy would have an easier time setting up. So every day after Physics I went over there, we worked for a while, ate lunch together, and then when he went home, I rode with him.

Well, the first day of Physics II, the prof walked in the room. He gave us all (it was a pretty big class, in one of those big auditorium like halls) the stink eye, and said:

"I know why you're here. You're here because you can't pass Physics during the regular semester, and you think it will be easier in the summer. It. Will. Not. Be. Easier."

Now, first off, that statement is full of fail in at least three ways:

1. My experience with summer students is generally the opposite. Students take summer classes because they want to graduate early. Or because they are working and know that a lighter class load in the fall makes life easier. Or because they can go for free at their dad's school and get the distribution courses out of the way.

2. Even if you believe that your students are slacker idiots, you don't SAY that to them. Because it might become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

3. Even if 1 and 2 don't matter, saying something like that to your students will make them hate you. I know I disliked the guy after he said that.

So anyway. He started in.

It was Optics. I am not so good at Optics. Optics confused me.

I tried my best, but when the first test rolled around, I knew I didn't really have it. (Also, the test was different from what I expected).

The next day in class, he handed the tests back. I earned a D. That was really hard, especially considering that I was a (mostly) A student. I guess lots of other people did, too, he proceeded to berate the class for being 'stupid' and for not studying and similar things.

He finally said, in frustration: "Okay. You need to go and get tutoring. The tutor for this class will be my wife. Tutoring sessions are $8 a half-hour."

That was twice the going rate for the graduate student tutors in other classes. And more than twice what I asked for when I tutored one of the neighbor kids in French.

And it irked me that he was hiring his WIFE - first, he makes a test that might just be a wee bit TOO hard, then he yells at us, then he tells us, "Pay my wife and she'll help you get a better grade.

(Later on, a couple of the other students went and complained to the dean. And he agreed that it was a conflict of interest and told the guy to stop and to hire a grad student instead. And the prof yelled at us for that).

Anyway. The class went on, but I didn't hear much of it. I was upset about the D, and also upset about the way he was treating us.

Walking across campus to my dad's building, I kept thinking about it. I couldn't drop the course, and I couldn't fail it. Doing either would mean I'd either have to take Physics II with organic in the fall, or I'd have to delay my graduation by another semester - neither of which seemed desirable. And I kept thinking about it, and worked myself up into a state. (I am good at doing that, even still).

By the time I walked into my dad's office, I was in tears. He asked me what was wrong. I think I got it out in one of those long, don't-take-a-breath-in-the-middle sentences that you sometimes do when you're crying and are afraid you're going to sob in the middle.

He looked at me for a moment.

Then he hugged me. Now, in my family we have never been real big huggers. We are kind of standoffish and shy, physically speaking. We love each other but we express it in different ways. So it wasn't like some of my friends where everyone was always grabbing everyone else and hugging them.

And then, he whispered in my ear (very quietly because there were other people in the office and I don't think he wanted them to hear):

"I'm sorry you got the asshole professor."

HAH hahahahahahaha.

That wasn't a word he commonly used - at least not around me. And it had two effects: first, it startled me a little and I stopped crying (as I said, not a word he commonly used). And second - and I realized this as the semester ground on - that was really the only appropriate descriptor for the guy.

My dad did know the professor - he hadn't said anything about him to me so as not to prejudice me - but later on I learned that he had served on committees with the guy and had a low opinion of him (seems the guy was the kind of person who needed to air every grievance he ever had, whether it was the right forum or not).

The biggest thing was that it made me feel validated. Like I wasn't just being a whiny baby complaining about the guy. Or that I wasn't "that student" who does poorly on an exam and cries, "But I get As in all my other classes, honest."

That it wasn't me, it was him.

And then, after that, my dad took me out to lunch. And we figured out a plan. One of his friends had a son who was an engineer with the Navy, and Art was on leave that summer. So we hired him to help me with optics (figuring if anyone could do it, a Navy engineer could). So Art helped me, I figured out what I needed to know, I worked hard, I did better on the tests.

I ultimately earned an A in the class. And I felt like I won. And I realize that the "asshole professor" probably never even cared that I earned an A. But it was important to me. And I like to think that it made my dad a little proud, too, that I fought my way back from that initial D.

So, a belated happy father's day to all the "good dads" out there.

Whiny

I know this is petty and whiny, but whatever. It's my blog. You don't have to read this post if you don't want to.

so here goes:

For the love of Mike, why are they doing stories about Valentine's Day on the local news already?!?!?!?! I turned on the local news channel to see about the weather - because it got very cold here over night, supposedly, and I wanted to know just how cold it was going to be so I could plan to dress appropriately (maybe no one around here has ever heard of that concept; certainly some of my students seem not to have).

But NOOOOOOO. They had the set all dolled up with pink, white, and red flowers, teddy bears, heart balloons. All that crap. They had a local florist on supposedly doing a story on pre-ordering for Valentine's Day. (But which was really a pretty transparent free-advertising piece for the florist. My local news does this All. The. Time. Any time a big gift-giving holiday comes up, they get local stores on to ostensibly talk about it but really to hawk their wares. Every time there's something like St. Patrick's Day, or Fourth of July, or some other holiday that people might conceivably go out to eat, there's some local restauranteur put on to remind people that he's open and serving. It makes me wild because not only is it free advertising during the actual program, but they will spend long amounts of loving attention on it - and then not talk about stuff like, oh, I don't know, the fact that there is an escaped felon at large in the community. I kind of would prefer knowing whether or not I risked being taken hostage on my way to work than that the local beer joint is doing a corned beef and cabbage special for St. Patty's)

And Valentine's Day puts me in a bad mood anyway. Yes, I know, it's childish. It's getting worked up over something small. But it's got to be one of the most damn exclusive "holidays" out there. The only worse thing would be to declare a day "Married Couple with Biological Children Day!" - so the divorced parents, childless couples, and people who adopted can be made to feel like failures.

Because, Valetine's Day, even though I try not to let it, does make me feel a little bit like a failure. The one thing I have not managed to achieve in my life is a long-term relationship (preferably marriage). Part of it is that I'm picky. Part of it is probably it wasn't in the cards for me, for whatever reason is unknown to me (and God? If you're listening? I hope it's a REALLY good reason).

I hate Valentine's Day for other, more abstract, reasons: it is telling people that they need to "demonstrate" their love for that Special Someone with some kind of a gift, preferably an expensive one. It, in some cases, is almost presented as a Get Out Of Jail Free card - that is, it's OK to crab at your husband other days of the year, it's OK to ignore that your wife is about to melt down and has asked you three times to help her get the kids ready for school - because you've bought flowers or candy or something.

But I have to admit the real nugget of burning dislike I have for the day is that it allows people who are part of a couple to be smug and exclusive and to say "Look what I got!" (and yes, I've had people do that to me - women come by SPECIFICALLY to show me the new jewelry or flowers or whatever. And it's not, in some cases, a "I'm really happy and can't resist sharing" impulse, but it's a "Look at me! I'm so great! I'm better than you because I have a MAN!" impulse. And I'm sorry, but anyone who does that - who flaunts their couple-ness as a way of trying to make themselves feel better, or to make themselves seem better than someone who is not part of a couple, well, they can just suck it. Because that's really a shabby thing to do to a person who may ALREADY be a little low because they're being reminded that they are ALONE on the couple day of all couple days.)

I don't know. It was easier, in some ways, in grade school, where you gave cards to your friends and mmmmmmaaaayyyybbbbbeee to the boy (in my case) you had a wee little crush on, and if you were incredibly lucky, you'd get a card from that boy. But that was the whole extent of it - there was far less agony, far less feeling bereft. Because even if Mark D. didn't send you a card, at least your friends did. So you felt like someone still loved you. And then you had your cup of red Hi-C punch and a cupcake with pink frosting, and you didn't have Math in the afternoon because of the Valentine's Day party.

It got harder in high school. They did a couple fund-raisers: a carnation sale, and then, a couple years later, a candygram sale. None of my friends or I ever got carnations. One year one of the girls who had, ahem, a "reputation" got a whole bunch of them. Which we laughed about, I'm ashamed to admit. But we sent candygrams to each other and put funny cryptic messages on them. (I actually still have a couple of those). And somehow that helped, having a couple friends in the same boat to sit back and laugh about it with.

But as an adult - either everyone around me is part of a couple, or the few other uncoupled types I know, they seem too mature to be bugged by it. (And that also makes me feel bad, I have to admit: why can't I just Woman Up and ignore the day? I say I will every year, but I never quite manage). And so there's no one like K. or T. or M. to sit at lunch with and snicker and be scandalized that D. got 15 carnations, and oh my gosh, I bet they're from different guys, and I wonder, are they guys she put out for or just ones who hope she'll put out for them?

Yeah, yeah, petty and terrible, I know. But I do know that D. grew up and got married and apparently has a nice life. So don't feel too bad for her.

This is just one of the times I kind of wish my old gang was still around me - that we could sit around and snark on all the stupid stuff that we deep down kind of hurt about. K. and T. are married - I know K. is happily married but I've not heard from T. in a while. M. I don't know, I've totally lost track of her.

But it would be nice, as I said, to have someone to sit with and snark about that stuff - about the ads showing women getting all excited because their husbands got them Lexuses (Lexi?) for the day, or the diamond ads like that one with the old couple walking hand in hand that secretly makes me cry (because dammit, I want that, I want someone to grow old with and still walk hand in hand with when I'm 75) but I'm sort of embarrassed to admit that it does make me cry...

Maybe you know what I mean.

One of my favorite holidays

A few hours from now, I leave to meet my train (according to the Amtrak website, it is supposedly on time, but I have no idea how regularly they update that).

Tomorrow, this time, I will hopefully be almost to my parents' town.

And the day after, is Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving. It is such a great holiday. There is very little run-up to it, almost no commercialization. The only "Thanksgiving special" I am aware of is the perennial Charlie Brown special, which I enjoy anyway.

(I have issues with new "specials" that either claim "destined to become a classic" - which I consider a marker of FAIL right there - or which seem more interested in promoting the company's toy line than in conveying a message or entertaining.)

You don't have to buy gifts. You're not invited to "black tie optional" parties (the very phrase, "black tie optional" almost makes me come out in hives). It's a simpler day, and as much as I love Christmas, I also love the simplicity of Thanksgiving.

A commentator - it might have been Michael Medved - once remarked that Thanksgiving was the most Jewish of American holidays: the idea of giving thanks to God* for the gifts of the harvest, of having a ritualized meal, of getting together with family.

(*And yes, I realize that's not obligatory, but it's something my family, like many, does).

I do think it's important for us to have Thanksgiving. It's good to take at least one day out of the year and kind of breathe a sigh of relief, and go, "How good I have it!"

I've said before, and I firmly believe it is true, that gratitude is the antidote for a sense of entitlement: you can look at things and say, "I deserve all this and more!" or you can look at things and feel a bit of wonderment and say, "I am so lucky!" or "I am so blessed!" And I generally prefer to look at things and marvel at how blessed I am, rather than look around and wonder why there isn't more.

A lot has been made of the big meal - how expensive it is, how much effort it takes to cook, how many calories, yadda yadda yadda.

And yes, I know, it takes a lot of work to cook - my mother does it every year. I could do it if I had to, and I help her out - by making the dressing or peeling potatoes or doing the washing-up - but I really don't think she feels put upon for doing it. She seems to enjoy cooking (as do I) and so the meal is more a labor of love. (And having someone to do the washing-up, I think that's probably a good thing. I know I'd appreciate it if I could get it).

(One year, my father tentatively suggested that he could make reservations for all of us at a good restaurant in town, and "save" my mother the effort. She vetoed that idea right away, and said "A restaurant Thanksgiving would not be the same." So I take that to mean she enjoys cooking it enough that she will go to the effort willingly.)

But I like that it's a simple day: you get up, you maybe sit around in your pajamas for a while and watch the Macy's parade (and I still love it, bloated as it's become). You maybe do some of the basic "starting" type things for the meal: boil and peel the chestnuts, tear up the dried bread for the dressing, make the cranberry sauce, maybe set the sponge for the rolls if you didn't make those the day before, make sure the turkey's thawed....

Then the meal gradually builds, the preparation: making the dressing. Getting the turkey ready and in the oven. Making the corn pudding. Peeling the potatoes and preparing them to mash. Getting out the good plates and making sure they are ready to go.

Our Thanksgivings have been pretty small these recent years: my mother's family, other than the cousins, are mostly all gone (and those that remain are far away: Albuquerque, northern Michigan, California). We had gotten together with one or the other of my dad's brothers in past years, but once all the kids grew up and scattered (and some married), it seems easier for each family to stay home.

So this year, it will be me, my parents, and a friend of theirs (a retired British geographer who lost her husband some years back and who has no family in this country). My brother and sister-in-law are going to be at her brother's, as her brother and his wife have a new baby this year. (They will come by to visit on Friday though).

I like the simplicity of it. I actually find traveling and spending time with distant family, ESPECIALLY on a holiday, a little stressful: I can't quite relax the same way as I do in my parents' house; I feel like I have to have my 'company manners' on. And there's always the problem of there not being enough bathrooms when you are staying at someone's house. Or that you forgot your shampoo and there's no Walgreen's nearby and anyway, your car is blocked in by five others. And often, in my extended family, when they all get together, there's a little friction (especially now with some of the cousins' spouses coming from different backgrounds...) And it's never quite as comfortable as being in my parents' house, with just them, or with just them and my brother and sister-in-law. (My sister-in-law is very very cool. No friction from her). And there's the added challenge of planning to DO anything when you have eighteen people with eighteen different ideas and preferences....even sending someone out to the store to pick up a couple of half-gallons of ice cream is fraught with danger; the person may never leave the house for all the conflicting suggestions as to flavors or brands (and there's always the person who claims that Brand X is the ONLY brand they will eat, and the purchaser can only buy another one at his or her own peril).

So I prefer the quietness of my immediate family, where we will start finishing each others' sentences within an hour of being back together, and where my mom's already bought the brand and flavor of ice cream that is preferred, and where no one will groan and roll their eyes because there's mince pie instead of apple.

I need a break, anyway. Even if I'm only going to be there for 3 days or so.

Stimulating the economy (a little)

So much for not buying frivolous stuff. (But I contend that, if you can afford it, perhaps sometimes it's an OK thing).

I went to the Hallmark store today. I had a coupon for a free ornament if I bought two. And I knew there was at least one I wanted, having seen it in a magazine: a tiny replica of the Fisher-Price farm toy, which was one of my favorites as a small child. (In fact, I am quite certain I got it for Christmas one year, perhaps somewhere about Christmas 1975.)

And it moos when you open the door. (AND it has replaceable batteries, which is a big selling point to me. I don't like those things that will stop working eventually and cannot be made to work again.)

I also found a Snoopy ornament I wanted...so I got my free ornament too.

(Eventually I will have to spring for a larger tree, I suppose. The one I have is a 10 year old Hobby Lobby purchase and is only about 3 1/2 feet tall. It was great in my apartment but now I find I have to set it up on a table to make sure it's even noticeable. I would like a bigger tree...though perhaps not just yet. Maybe I'll see if there's something good at the after-Christmas sales. I do get an artificial tree, because I set it up early and leave it up when I'm out of town and not around to water it - and besides, my allergies are bad enough that a real evergreen with real molds and real pollen remnants would bother me).

I also got my cards for this year. I bought a box of Thomas Kinkade designed cards. Mainly for two reasons:

1. They explicitly wish a Merry Christmas. (Friends of mine who don't celebrate, get a card specially bought for what they DO celebrate, or they get a New Year's card. But I like my Christmas cards to say "Christmas"). And it has a fairly un-stupid greeting inside. I dislike the cards with the sappy poems in them; I'd rather just have one that says something like, "Thinking of you this Christmas, wishing you joy and peace" or something like that.

2. They had glitter. Christmas has to have a little glitter. Glitter is a good thing. Glitter makes me happy. The cards are very glittery because it's a snow scene, and all the snow has a little layer of glitter on it. Yes, I know, some people roll their eyes when they open a card and a little glitter sifts out of it, but honestly, I think that's kind of a curmudgeonly reaction. It's not that hard to vacuum or sweep up a few glitter crumbs. And then you have a pretty glittery card.

In some respects, I've hung on pretty well to my inner seven-year-old.

I also bought an extremely frivolous item, and I had to think kind of a while before doing it. But I decided I wanted it, it amused me, and of course I can put it out every successive Christmas.

It was a Pepe Le Pew doll. Lying on his stomach, propping his face in his hands. Big fluffy tail draped over his back with a little felt bundle of mistletoe tied to it. And if you push a button on him, he talks. (And again: replaceable batteries. I approve of this trend of not making things "disposable" when the batteries run out).

Yes, I know. I'm closing in on 40. And Pepe Le Pew probably shares the honors with Speedy Gonzales for the most inappropriate and politically-incorrect Looney Tunes character. I mean, in the age of sexual harassment suits, I wonder what happened to him? Did he have to spend many many hours in 'sensitivity training'? Did he get sent off to the same ward that they shipped Cookie Monster off to to try to detox him from cookies and get him onto a veggie-based diet? Did they ship poor ol' Pepe off to some all-male employment so there's no one there he'd be interested in harassing?

But I have to admit I've always had a bit of a soft spot for M. Le Pew. He reminds me a bit of a guy I knew years ago - he'd say some rather inappropriate things, but you never felt really threatened, you rather more pitied the guy because he was so inept.

And besides, really, this doll of Pepe Le Pew has such adoring eyes; you can almost imagine him looking at you in ardent admiration. And if you're like me, and can decouple the weird remarks from the look of admiration (and the fact that it is, in fact, a stuffed toy looking at you that way), it's actually kind of fun.

(I really should get a dog or a cat. I need something that will look at me with a certain admiration on a regular basis.)

So anyway. M. Le Pew is now sitting perched on the back of my couch, where I can see him from anywhere in the living room. Which is all decorated for Christmas. And I don't care if it's "too early," I'm going to be gone part of next week, and when I get back, the metaphorical S hits the fan because that's when all the grading comes and finals need to be written. So having the decorating done means I can come home and bask in the little multicolored lights of my Christmas tree, and the snowman figures lined up on the mantel, and the droopy-eyed admiration of M. Le Pew.

Happy Birthday, USA!

On a happier note:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

Others have said it more eloquently than I could, but our Founding Fathers were genius.

I would hope that everyone working in government regularly re-reads this document, as well as the Bill of Rights (I'd like them to read the whole Constitution but I suppose I must be practical). The fundamental ideas of those two documents, in particular - may we never forget them. May we never decide we'd rather have perfect security than liberty. May we never decide we'd rather sit and be entertained than work to protect and maintain the rights named above. May we never choose to abolish democracy in favor of some more-restrictive but (apparently) easier form of government. (As much as I joke about being a closet monarchist, I really am not).

And may others around the world suffering under unjust governments, where the leaders are as given to whimsy and arrogance of their subjects' needs as George III was, read these documents, come up with their own version, and try some form of the "American experiment" in their own country.

I'm not doing much to "celebrate" today - I didn't inherit the "fireworks gene" that runs in my family (the gene that makes you want to shoot off fireworks, even if it's just bottle rockets. And I think that must be a Y-chromosome-linked gene, given how it operates in my family). I'm not big on cookouts. And, in fact, I need to get some work done on a research presentation I'm giving in a few weeks. So I am going in to work today. But then again - that's exercising my freedom; there is no one saying I must (for example) spend the day bowing down to a portrait of Thomas Jefferson.

But still, I felt I had to mark the day somehow.

Happy Valentine's Day

From (of course) I Corinthians, chapter 13:

If I speak in the tongues of men and angels,
but have not love,
I have become sounding brass or a tinkling symbol.

And if I have prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge,
and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains,
but have not love, I am nothing.

And if I dole out all my goods, and
if I deliver my body that I may boast
but have not love, nothing I am profited.

Love is long suffering,
love is kind,
it is not jealous,
love does not boast,
it is not inflated.

It is not discourteous,
it is not selfish,
it is not irritable,
it does not enumerate the evil.
It does not rejoice over the wrong, but rejoices in the truth


It covers all things,
it has faith for all things,
it hopes in all things,
it endures in all things.

*****

And you know, that kind of sums up my dissatisfaction with what Valentine's Day has become.

Nowhere in there does it say "Love buys diamonds for its beloved."
Nowhere does it say "If you spend enough money, you get a 'free pass.'"

No. It makes the much harder requirement. (And before I go any further: the "love" being referenced is, of course, not merely romantic love, but rather the love we are all expected to have for our fellow humans. Even the ones who make themselves unlovable. Perhaps, especially, the ones who make themselves unlovable).

Love wants what's best for the other person. It's not kind of holding back, kind of going, "I'll do this but there better be something in it for me." It doesn't keep score - "Well, he screwed up in this way and that way and that way last week, so I'll just remember those and hold them over his head when he wants something from me."

It doesn't boast. It doesn't force itself on others.

It's really hard, I openly admit it, for me to have that kind of love for my fellow human. (I must confess: the other day, when I wrote about going to the wal-mart at 4 pm - when I encountered the first Special Snowflake, I was sitting in my car, shouting "*sshole! *sshole! *sshole!" at him. No, he couldn't hear me, of course. But I was still agitated and angry and I still could not love him at that moment).

I don't think any of us can have that kind of constant and abiding love for our fellow human for all the time. That doesn't mean we shouldn't work on it. But it's a hard task.

Sometimes I wonder - thinking, as I do, of the Fall as more allegorical explanation for characteristics ingrained in human nature than as a literal account of "this is how it really happened," if the real Fall of humanity happened when the first man committed the first malicious act against another man. I'm not talking about simple predation or competition like animals do; I'm talking about the first premeditated act, done not out of a need to survive or to get food or any of those basic survival needs, but the first act done to wound the feelings of another - and done specifically for that purpose. I wonder if that's when our eyes were maybe "opened," and we became like God in the sense that we now had the power to either comfort or wound. (But we have not God's wisdom to make us want to AVOID wounding)

I think a lot of - if not all - of the things that we think of as sin (at least, those of us who still use the concept of sin) can be traced back to that fundamental selfishness, that desire to have your own, and the heck with the other. Traced back to not loving one's fellow man.

I don't know. I do know it makes me sad to think of some people using Valentine's Day as a way to try to buy the love or forgiveness of the other person in their life. If you really do have love for that other person, if you are kind and loving most of the time (no one is all of the time), a card or some kind of silly inexpensive gift should suffice. Because you're showing the person love - you're doing love - the whole year through.

It also makes me sad to think that Valentine's Day, at least when you're an adult, is aimed at one type and one type only of love - romantic love. For those of us who don't have it in our lives (or don't have it at this moment), it makes the day a tiny bit bitter. It makes it just a little harder to think of the love we DO have - be it love of parents, or of God, or of good friends, or of children - and be grateful for it. Because some folks, it seems, see those other kinds of love (which frankly, in my life, have been far more faithful and far more abiding than romantic love) as somewhat of a "second prize." You know, it's the single "losers" who talk about how much they love their friends. Or how they're happy they have a close relationship with family.

And that just is sad. Because I've found that when the guy left me, when he started dating another woman without telling me when we had earlier made a sort of "exclusivity" pact, when he claimed that "following his bliss" meant his going somewhere he knew I couldn't follow - the ones who were there to console me, to tell me, "He doesn't deserve you, and he proved it by doing THAT," who said, "It doesn't matter anyway; you're a strong person and you don't need a man to depend on" or "You do not deserve to be treated like that" were my friends and my family.

It's too bad, really, we don't have a day - or that we don't take back Valentine's Day - to celebrate THAT kind of love. (Well, OK, there's Mother's Day and Father's Day but that doesn't cover a lot of the people who love me)

I may have fewer than 10 people in my life I can count on that way - people that, no matter what happened, no matter what awful thing I had to phone them up about, would still listen to me, still commiserate with me, still LOVE me (even if they were telling me they were going to "kick my ass" for me being stupid and getting into whatever problematic situation it was). They're the ones I'd want to sent a Valentine to, to thank them for their loyalty and their love.

Love and Joy come to you...

This time tomorrow I almost certainly (barring some kind of horrible delay) will be on a train headed to my parents' house.

That makes me very happy: to be away, to return to people I love and who love me, to put most of my many responsibilities aside for a short time.

I really have little I must do tomorrow before heading to the station: finish a bit of packing, wrap up a few loose ends on campus, pay a couple of bills that will come due while I'm gone.

To all of you: if you celebrate Christmas, have a joyous and blessed Christmas. If you celebrate it as a predominantly holy day, may the love of Christ bless your heart and your home. If you celebrate it predominantly as a holiday, may you find what your heart desires tucked in a stocking.

If you don't celebrate Christmas, at least have a happy New Year. And if you get time off from work, enjoy it. (And if you're a non-celebrant who offers to fill in for people who are [as I have known Jewish doctors and nurses in hospitals to do for their Christian colleagues on Christmas]: bless you. You are doing a very kind thing.)

As the old song goes: love and joy come to you, and to you your wassail too, and God bless you and bring you a happy new year, and God bring you a happy new year.

I will be back early January.

laughing instead of crying...

I heard on the news this morning that in some communities affected by the ice storm, where people have been driven out of their homes (because of no power and no heat), thieves are breaking into the houses and stealing stuff - including Christmas presents.

This is the kind of thing that makes me frustrated with humanity and steals my good will - that someone could do this kind of thing.

And then I thought, well, tomorrow is Friday so you'll have Emily's FFOT to post it on.

But I realized that no mere four-letter Anglo-Saxonism is enough to describe how I feel.

And then I got to thinking and thought of something that made me feel better, because it made me laugh a little instead of crying (which one could just as easily do).

I imagined these people caught, in handcuffs, and brought before a tribunal of Villains of Christmas Past to hear their opinion.

First up, of course, would be Mr. E. Scrooge, Esq. He would stand up, lean on his cane, and stare long and hard at the criminals. And then he would quietly say: "I cannot believe you did that. That is remarkably depraved. And I am saying that as a man who fired his only employee, and one with six children, on Christmas Eve."

Then, Mr. Potter would wheel in. He'd glare at the people in the dock, and then snarl: "If I had come up with a scheme like that, as God is my witness, I would have jumped off the very bridge young Bailey was contemplating throwing himself off of."

The Grinch would stand up, say nothing, spit in their direction, and stalk out of the room.

Heat Miser and Cold Miser would approach the microphone, each pushing the other to try to get there first. By virtue of his longer legs and slimmer physique, Cold Miser would reach the mike first, shortly followed by his brother:

Cold Miser: "Dudes, that's WEAK. Seriously."
Heat Miser: "And I agree with him on that!"
Cold Miser: "And we've never agreed on anything ever before."
Heat Miser: "It's totally true. We're always fighting."
Cold Miser: "But we agree on this."
Heat Miser: "Totally."

Next, Burgermeister Meisterburger would step up to the mike and say, "I am issuing a decree throughout the land, so that all may know how much you SUCK!"

A huge bird would be hanging around the back of the courtroom. Finally, prompted by other tribunal members, it would come forward:
"AWWWWWK! I am EON. This is not even my holiday! But you are despicable! Never in my long live have I seen losers bigger than you!"

Suddenly, the door would burst open and an immense, toothless abominable snow monster would rush in, grab the criminals, pick them up, and try to gum them to death...

Five things

Michele has a post up about five things she doesn't like about this time of year. (And if you read A Big Victory regularly, you probably don't need me to issue a "language alert," but I will, for the more meek souls who are blown out of their chairs by f-bombs and the "s" word).

I have to admit I kind of agree with her on the people-whose-worst-instincts-come-out-while-shopping and with the "OMG! They said "JESUS" in public discourse! It's a THEOCRACY here now!" folks.

But there are an awful lot of things I totally adore about this season, so I'm going to focus on those:

1. Crazy, over-the-top light displays on houses.

Yes, it's tacky as heck. Yes, it raises people's electrical bills for the month of December and makes Mama Gaia cry even more than farting sheep do. But I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the crazy, overdone, Griswold-house light displays.

I just do. I can't really explain it but it makes me crazy happy to drive by someone's house at night and they've got it all lit up, and maybe a plastic Santa and reindeer on the roof, or those fake plastic snowmen with a light inside them (which look really odd here in the South, because it almost never snows, and it was close to 80* yesterday).

The town where I used to live, the local newspaper columnist had an annual contest that was for something like "Most outrageous Christmas display." And people totally got into it - it was amazing how much work people went to (especially considering the prize was like a gift certificate to a local pizza place).

I think part of the reason I love it is because it's so absurd...it does nothing to advance the person doing it (in some cases their neighbors even look down on them for it), but they do it, by and large, out of the love of doing the thing and the pleasure it gives to people like me who laugh like five-year-olds when they see a house all lit up.

2. There are special "treats" to eat.

My local Mart of Wal is selling "orange sticks" right now- apparently only for the holiday season. These are those jelly candies (like the jellied centers in Bridge Mix) dipped in chocolate. I can't find them any other time of the year.

So of course I buy a box or two and enjoy them throughout the season. Because they're just something I like: the really intense orangey jelly candy (it must have real orange peel in it) and the sweet milk chocolate. Mmmmmm...arrrggghhhh. (Homer drool).

And people make cookies that only get made this time of year.

And people share "traditional" things - people in my department, they kind of shyly bring in this cake or some appetizer or something and go "We have this every Christmas." And I love that, both because of the sharing aspect (and I learn a little more about that person, I get a tiny insight into who they are and where they come from), but also because, well, it's free food. And it's food different from my usual yogurt-crackers-fruit trifecta that makes up most lunches.

Myself? This is the only time I ever make roll-out cookies because they are such a mess and such an effort otherwise. But it is Christmas, so it is "right" to do them, and they don't seem that much of a pain to clean up after this time of year. Whereas in, say, June, they would.

3. Regardless of all the bad mall-behavior and mis-behavior at parties and such, people DO tend to be a bit nicer and kinder.

Yes, I really do believe this. I really do think this is true. People who might not write a check to a relief organization any other time of year will throw some spare change in a Salvation Army kettle. Or people may stop and remember what time of year it is before they chew out some underling. Or people are more willing to let others' imperfections slide - they're more willing to be forgiving. Because, you know, it's Christmas.

I don't know if it's some atavistic remnant of "Santa Claus is watching you!" or if it's a still-felt impulse not to dishonor the birth of Jesus by behaving like a heel, or what. But for every person playing Death Race 2000 in the Wal-Mart parking lot, there's someone else out there trying to reconcile with someone they hurt over the previous year.

4. Church services. I realize that this isn't part of everyone's Christmas experience or anticipation, but it's a big part of it for me - going into the clean bright church, newly decorated with greenery and red bows and candles, and hearing the same old good news I have heard every December since I was old enough to remember. And seeing the Advent candles lit, and singing the good old familiar hymns, and the anticipation, and the planning...even the reminders that we need to make ourselves spiritually ready, that we need to do a sort of housecleaning of the soul (which, I suspect, in some people, leads to the reconciliations I talked about above).

It's the start of a new year in church, and new years are always filled with hope. And hope is a good thing. Next year will be better. Things will turn around. This coming year will be really good, with lots of growth and love and understanding. This is the year we'll really understand what Christ meant, this is the year we'll really serve Him as he should be served.

Oh, come the end of the year, I may feel like I often do: "Get lost, old year. Don't let the door hit you in the backside on the way out." But at least for a while, there's enough hope - enough wonderful, crazy, irrational (by the world's standards) hope that it spills over into the other areas of my life.

5. The gifts. (At least I'm honest). Yes, I like the whole process of getting and giving gifts to people. It is fun. It is a way of showing someone that you love them. It's a lot of fun to go out and shop for people you love - or at least it is for me.

Now, granted: I don't experience the malls much this time of year. I tend to do Christmas shopping starting in the summer, when I'm traveling, when I'm new and different places with interesting things to buy for people. By the time the crappy "executive gifts" (usually some kind of chrome-plated monstrosity that he's "supposed" to keep on his desk) come out, I'm long done with my shopping.

And I also have the good fortune that I pretty well love everyone I buy gifts for. Mostly it's my immediate family, plus a few friends, plus some more distant family (which I usually do food gifts for: nothing for them to store, and it's something everyone can share - most of my more distant relatives are big families where I never know which adult kids are going to be home for the holidays). I don't have the pressure of having to "impress" anyone with my gifts, there's no competition in my family that way. I usually spend more than I "should," or at least more than I start out intending to spend....but so often I see "just the perfect thing" for someone, and of course, because it's "perfect," it will make them happy, and I love making people happy...so I buy it for them. And readjust my plans for everyone else's gifts accordingly.

The best moment of course is watching someone unwrap your gift (at least when they like what you gave them.)

I also like, I have to admit, getting gifts. I have an amazon wishlist that my family has the address to, and my parents ask me (and my brother and sister-in-law) to write down lists of things we want or could use (plus information like sizes). And then we get a few things off that list. (It's not as mercenary as it sounds. It's not like Sally on Charlie Brown Christmas asking for "and bring as many as possible. Or if it's easier for you, send money - preferably 10s and 20s."). I try to ask for mostly small stuff, and maybe one or two more expensive items. (Mostly it's books, although this year I put on some dvds, seeing as I now have a dvd player...)

It's fun to sit in the living room the day or so before Christmas and see the wrapped gifts stacked up, and wonder at what they contain...it's a tiny little window to being a child again, when there was some toy that you felt you would DIE if you didn't get, and a box shows up under the tree that is just about the right size...

cannot remain silent

Last week, the NYT online ran an article about the new "green crusaders" trying to make their mark on their family's Christmas celebrations. I read the article with some dismay.

I think one of the things that frustrates me about the modern world is how so many people have to make everything about themselves (she says as she writes on her blog).

When I was a kid growing up, it was kind of understood that at family gatherings, you didn't talk about politics, or religion (in my family we have Catholics, lapsed Catholics, Protestants of various stripes and degrees of devoutness, agnostics, people who would list their religious affiliation as "none" but who express a certain love and veneration for pop-religion figures like the Dalai Lama...). You tried to avoid subjects that would upset people.

Why? Because it was the holidays. Because it's nicer to spend time with people when there aren't hurt feelings or animosities. Oh, it can be hard. And there are people who sometimes violate the code and say whatever they damn well please. But the general unwritten rule in my family is: Thou shalt not make a pain of thyself.

So it bothers me that there are people who think it's perfectly okay to "reform" their families (or try to) by being somewhat unpleasant about it.

There was, for example, a person who was planning on giving each of their loved ones a CFL bulb (and, presumably, nothing else). She also comments about a relative who works in a field related to "nasty, old-style fossil fuel stuff." Nice. If her relative read the story, it should make for some interesting convo around the dinner table come Christmas.

Look, don't get me wrong: I'm in favor of conservation. I make an effort to limit my driving and to plan trips carefully, both to save money on gas and reduce the amount of pollution I generate. I turn off lights when I leave a room, and when I need to buy new appliances, the level of energy efficiency is part of my decision. It makes good fiscal sense to conserve energy and resources, and it does cut down on pollution.

I even recycle, at least items where it doesn't cost more energy to reprocess them than it would to produce new items "from scratch." (It's my understanding that plastic recycling at this point is not terribly efficient but that's neither here nor there because there's nowhere in my town to recycle plastics anyway. And I almost never drink pop or bottled water, so it's not like I'm a heavy producer of plastic waste).

But I draw the line when it comes to spewing my beliefs to other people. I don't walk around going, "You really should recycle that" or snapping off the lights in a room someone just left and glaring at them (I may snap off the lights anyway but try to do it in an unobtrusive way).

I guess I feel about conservation and such about the way I feel about my faith: if someone asks me what I believe, I'll share with them. Or I will try to quietly model the tenets of what I believe without talking about them. But I won't walk around telling everyone that they should do as I do, or telling them about the dire consequences they will face if they don't.

And I kind of view Christmas as a chance to relax things a bit. I eat things at Christmas I normally wouldn't eat (another thing I hate with a passion? All the news stories about "OMG everyone is going to gain 5 pounds this Christmas !!!11!!"). I do things I normally don't do.

I think perhaps in this country of plenty, we've forgotten the old meanings of "holidays" and "feasts." In the early days - in Medieval times and up to the 1800s, most of the year was kept as fasts or at least a time where not having all your desires fulfilled was the normal state of things. Christmas was a little foretaste of Heaven - where you were warm enough and had enough to eat and got to play a little and got to sing a little and maybe drank more than you should...

Nowadays, those of us in the Western world (or at least those of us in the middle-class and above) live as if every day is a feast day. And so we maybe don't know what to do when a holiday comes around. (Which may be why there's recently been a spate of advertisements for things like cars and diamond pendants as Christmas gifts: having to do more and more). And some people rebel against it, and see the time as a big time of wastefulness, and so appoint themselves as Saviors of the World (hrm...) and have to go around telling others to mend their wasteful ways.

I don't know. I live pretty frugally (by most North American standards) most of the time and I like being able to relax a little at Christmas - buy stuff for people that I know they will like, make cookies and cakes, spend more time socializing, put up strings of lights - all those things. And I don't like being told that what I'm doing is wrong and I should not do it.

Don't get me wrong - I have no problem with dialing back on materialism. I have to admit I'm a little nonplussed by the adverts that suggest buying a new car or a lavish vacation for your beloved for the holiday (or for the ads suggesting that risky, high-interest "payday loans" be used to shop). But there's a difference between a family deciding as a group, "This is what we are going to do" and then treating it as a foregone conclusion, and a person taking on the role of the proselytizer, where they have to constantly talk about it.

(Again, it reminds me of the Bible verse admonishing those who would fast against walking around looking sad and drawn and talking about how much they are fasting in front of other people. It's not just spiritual aggrandizement, it's also wicked annoying to the other people. It's kind of like the person in the department who's on a perma-diet and cannot shut up about it - who, every time there's birthday cake or cinnamon rolls or something, instead of just smiling and saying, "No, thank you" or avoiding the breakroom altogether, has to sit around and mope about their "terrible" diet and how they 'cannot eat those things' [or worse, say "I can't see how YOU can eat THAT"]).

I also think if one person is swimming against the tide of family tradition, it kind of behooves that person not to be unpleasant about it. If I were in the petroleum industry, and I had a "greenie" relative that I knew was going to harangue me at the dinner table, I'd probably make other plans for the holiday and explain to my other loved ones exactly why. Or if someone insisted on giving donations to causes in place of presents (which I have to admit I'm not totally on-board with but if someone asks me to do that for them instead of buying them a gift, I will), I'm not going to pretend to agree with them that "this is what we ALL should do next year."

I guess I still kind of am in "child mode" when it comes to Christmas: I want at least one of the gifts I receive to be "for fun" instead of "what I need." (Books count as "for fun," as do dvds or cds. Craft supplies count as "for fun." Stuff like nice tea or chocolate or nice soap or bath products count as "for fun") If gifts are too practical (socks and underwear, or "carbon credits" which I suspect are the new "socks and underwear"), then Christmas becomes little more than a festival of "I'll do your necessary shopping for you, and you do mine for me." And I'd rather pick out my own underwear, thanks.

(I bought different kinds of games - card games and board games and such - for a lot of my loved ones this year. A lot of the people I care about really enjoy playing games and I think I found a few new good ones. [And there's a slightly selfish motive: I will get to play the games, too, after Christmas.] I think games make a good gift. And also books, if the person likes to read.)

Maybe I'm wrong here, but I feel that all of the propaganda being put out - the "wrap your presents in old newspaper if you must wrap at all" or the "serve broccoli florets instead of pigs in blankets" or "give gifts of donations to good causes instead!" are as much of an attack on Christmas by those who would deny the holiday as are the (often inflated in the imagination of commentators) attacks coming from those who would deny the origin of the day - the One for whom the holiday is named.

I don't know. It seems to me there's so much bad news in the news that it's not necessary to go further to make people feel bad - laying on guilt for eating things that might not be 100% healthful during the holidays, or spending a little more than they might have planned, or using the "old" type of light bulbs instead of new "energy-efficient" bulbs, or whatever.

Leave Christmas alone, please, fearmongers in the media.

Halowe'en wrap-up

I didn't get many trick or treaters last night. I think it was partly because I was (grr) the ONLY HOUSE ON MY BLOCK handing out candy. (People? It's one night a year. Can you make an effort?)

I did get to see some cute and funny costumes though.

Best costume, older-kid division: a girl dressed up (apparently a homemade costume) as a S'more. (I had to ask her what she was). She was in a white sweatsuit, with a brown pillow strapped to her front (as the chocolate) and then sandwich-board-style cardboard pieces with lines and dots on them to represent the graham crackers.

There were also a lot of tweens dressed as, I guess, popstars (One of my friends who has kids says a popstar character named Hannah Montana is big this year, but I don't know who that is, so the girls could have been her and I didn't realize it). Big big sunglasses and bell-bottomed jeans. (Maybe they were going as Hippies. I don't know).

There were also a lot of - for lack of a better term - glamour witches. I don't mean "sexy" witches - I will say I didn't see a single inappropriate costume (at least, inappropriate in that way) last night. No, these girls had glitter on their pointy hats and makeup on and their witches dresses either had glitter or lacy edges on the sleeves and hem or both. It was sort of a cute look.

Best costumes, tiny kid division:

one little boy, I think he was about 3, dressed up as a wee tiny ninja. It was so funny. I think he was the best, but the tiny little boy (so small his mom had to help him up my front steps) dressed as a skeleton (in a very detailed costume: the "bones" were actually 3-d molded rubber instead of just painted on the bodysuit, and then he had white make-up on to make the skull) was a close second.

There were also a couple of tiny Disney Princesses. Or maybe a Princess and a Tinkerbell. I couldn't tell too well with the tinier girl what she was.

There was also a little girl dressed as a princess (her brother was a little Jack Sparrow) who had their dog with them - a little French bulldog - and he was wearing a skeleton suit! That made me laugh, too.

There were a few gory costumes - or sort of half-hearted gory costumes, where the kids had sort of runny makeup and splashed a little fake blood on a t-shirt. I personally find those less amusing than the all-out costumes, like the little kids who wanted to be a perfect princess or a perfect pirate or something.

No Harry Potter costumes this year. For the past few years I got at least one or two.

Also no college-kids trick-or-treating for canned goods for the local food pantry. Usually that happens too, and I was prepared for it.

Hallowe'en

I don't do a lot, as an adult, for Hallowe'en. (I can't dress up today, anyway - I have a field lab this afternoon and anything remotely costumey would be uncomfortable or unsafe. I AM wearing a t-shirt with a bat on it, though).

I don't know why. I guess I always took Hallowe'en to be a kids holiday. (Don't get me wrong, here - I'm not saying you're stupid if you celebrate it or go all-out as an adult, it's just not something I do). I think part of it is I'm so busy this time of the semester - it's Midterms and it's also the time when I'm trying to wrap up research - that it just gets away from me.

I do do one thing: hand out candy to any kids who come trick or treating. I enjoy that.

Two really cute/memorable costumes from years past:

1. a very tiny little girl - probably 2 or 3 - in a homemade (really detailed - probably made by Grandma) Tweety Bird costume. So cute.

2. Two little boys, very likely twins, dressed in identical army-fatigue suits. (They were probably 6 or 7). When I gave them their candy, they stood at attention (military style!) and said, in unison, "Thank you, ma'am!" That was so cute it almost killed me.

This year, my coleader and I decided to cancel Youth Group for the week - so the younger kids could go out trick or treating and so the older kids could go to a "teen event" (a chaperoned dance) tonight. (And I have to admit I'm glad to have the chance to hand out candy. I ran out the day after we decided that and bought a big big bag of little Twix bars, and a couple bags of snack-packs of mini oreos, and a big big bag of Kit Kats. I like to give out the "good" candy - I hope these qualify as "good" in the eyes of the kids trick or treating)

One thing that bugs me? All of these places - malls and things and even, I think, the local hospital - are advertising "Come with your kids and trick or treat at our place. It is a 'safe and fun' alternative!"

Um, yeah. I'm kind of insulted by that "safe." It almost seems to imply that people's neighbors are carefully inserting pins into the Snickers bars or injecting peanut butter cups with LSD or something. I suppose in some towns, people really DON'T know their neighbors well enough, but it bugs me. It bugs me that malls and places are playing on the loss-of-trust of other people, and that they're probably figuring, "If we get the moms and dads in with the kids trick-or-treating, we will probably be able to sell them something."

As for "fun" - well, when I was a kid and saw E.T. and saw the kids trick-or-treating in the daylight, and my mom explained to me that in some communities they were worried enough about safety to do that, I thought "what a rip." I suspect there are still enough kids - or at least I hope there are still enough kids, in this bubble-wrapped society we have - who feel like "What a rip" when they go trick or treating at the mall.

Going trick or treating at night to people's houses was FUN. It was fun because it felt a teeny tiny bit naughty - you were ASKING for candy, and you were permitted to do that! And it was at night - my parents would let my brother and me go out to look at the stars, or catch fireflies, or stuff, but the rule is we had to stay in the yard (or, if we were playing flashlight tag with the kids across the street, stay in their yard). We weren't allowed to roam the neighborhood. And with trick or treating, we DID roam - we probably walked well over a mile, all the way up to the part of the neighborhood we normally never went, because it was "too far," and, except for Lisa E., neither of us had friends who lived out that way.

And you were in costume. To be out, at night, in costume, and asking for candy was pretty intoxicating to a normally rule-following child like me. It felt like I was being BAD. But it was a type of BAD I was allowed to get away with.

So, I don't know - but to me, trick or treating at a mall (or in the downtown of a town, like they do here) would feel like a very poor substitute.

And, of course, living where I live, there are people who don't like Hallowe'en. Who say it's a day for the devil. Who talk about the paganism rampant on this day.

And you know? I just shrug. Sure, there are pagan associations to the day - it's Samhain, in the old Celtic calendar - but there are also Christian associations - it's All Hallow's Eve, the day before All Saint's Day.

And the way I look at it? It's a day to laugh at what scares you. And isn't laughing at what might ordinarily scare you (like, death) something you might want to do, as a Christian?

I've also heard a few rumblings from other quarters - that it's a "wasteful" day, because of all the candy bought (all those wrappers, going to the landfill!) and the costumes - far better, they say, to make a costume out of old clothes and give out unwrapped treats (but then, that contradicts the "safe" mantra above).

I've also heard people talk about the caloric impact of this day - all that candy, all that sugar. Let the kids have a piece or two and then take the rest away from them. (But I will say I also heard a nutritionist speaking last week who said: "It's only one day out of the year. Let the kids have the candy. Kids have to have fun, sometimes." Which seems a more sane response, to me.)

I don't know. I wonder sometimes if in the future we will just have amorphous "holiday days" rather than actual, dedicated holidays, because it seems no matter what, someone gets offended by the observances.

When I was a kid in school, we got to bring out costumes to school on Hallowe'en. In the afternoon, after lunch, we changed into them, and had a parade around the school grounds. Lots of mothers would show up to take pictures (my mom has pictures of both me and my brother - I was usually some kind of animal, my brother was, depending on the year, a cowboy or a robot or a sports star or a rock star). Then we had a party - we got Hi-C punch (Hi-C punch seemed to be a fixture of school parties) and orange-frosted chocolate cupcakes and we got to be in the classrooms in our costumes. And then we went home, and after dinner, went out trick-or-treating.

It sounds like kind of a small thing, now, but it was something that loomed large in the school year - a party (we got to have 3 parties: Hallowe'en, a Christmas-but-we're-not-calling-it-that party before the Christmas break, and a Valentine's day party). It WAS a big deal - no classes in the afternoon, Hi-C punch, cupcakes, a chance to talk with your friends instead of learning about fractions or the Civil War.

I hope kids today get the chance to do that kind of stuff. I think having things to look forward to - even small things - is important. And I also think being able to enjoy and appreciate little things like being able to wear a costume in class and have a cup of Hi-C punch is also important.

Memorial Day

Today is Memorial Day.

The town I live in now - which is larger than the town where I grew up but still seems at times, strangely small and isolated - really doesn't do anything. Oh, I suppose people go out to the cemetery (as they always do), and there are the family picnics and times on the lake and such. But there's really no civic to-do, and I find that kind of sad.

I wonder if we're slowly losing the meaning of Memorial Day. When I was a kid, I knew (even from a pretty young age) that it was a day to remember those who died fighting for this country - and, by extension, to honor the veterans who lived on after fighting, as well.

I remember when I was a kid - growing up in a small town (and yet, it didn't SEEM that small to me, as a child - there were plenty of grocery stores and sufficient good doctors and clothing stores and mostly everything you needed...here, it's a half-hour drive, at least, for a lot of things), there was a lot that happened.

The biggest thing was the parade. The whole town shut down for the day for the parade. People lined the main streets to watch it go by. There were also events out at local cemeteries, particularly those where the war dead were buried. I also think some years there was a large all-town picnic after the parade.

Now, in those days (the 1970s), WWII veterans would have still been fairly young - some in their 40s, some in their 50s. And there were a lot of them. And they marched in the parade. There was an active American Legion post in my town. There were also a lot of civic groups. And there were the Boy Scouts and the Girl Scouts (back when scouting was still fairly "pure," untainted by the scandals of improper scoutmasters or the ACLU complaining about the God-mentioning of the groups). I was a Girl Scout - well, I was a Brownie Scout and a Girl Scout, briefly (until the whole cookie madness started; I decided I had little interest in being a saleswoman, and by that time, the meetings were pretty much covering stuff I already knew, or could get from library books - and there wasn't even all that much "woodswoman" type stuff; it was more etiquette and Junior Sorority type junk in my troop).

But back in the mid 70s I was still a Brownie, and those disappointments hadn't happened yet. My most memorable Memorial Day - the one that I use as sort of a template to compare what Memorial Day's become to - happened, I think, in 1976. The Bicentennial. There was still a lot of patriotic feeling then. It was good to be an American. It was something people were generally proud of, and if there were people who thought America was more bad than good, they either kept their mouths shut about it or they were generally regarded as cranks.

Anyway. That memorial day my Brownie troop was invited to march in the Memorial Day parade. And that was a big deal - a really big deal. I was tremendously excited about it, getting to be there in the parade with firefighters and Hero Soldiers and the high school marching band. It was great to be a part of something so wonderful, to be around people who were, in my eyes, bigger than life - people who had really done good stuff. (I didn't know all of the sad details of Hitler and the death camps and the atrocities committed in some of the Pacific Theater POW camps, but I did know that the veterans were men who had gone off and fought bad people to keep us safe and free.) I was proud but also kind of awed by the solemnity of the occasion and the responsibility I had to be a good representative of my troop and to show the proper respect for the flag (I would have rather DIED than done something that would have been seen as disrespectful.)

I even was picked to carry a small American flag. I was to wear white gloves with my Brownie uniform - my mother took me down to Dodds (anyone who lived in the same small town as I did growing up now knows where it was) and bought me a pair. (The only white gloves I ever really wore, except for a couple pair scrounged from rummage sales that I wore when I was in a costumey mode in high school).

I can't really describe the sort of heart-popping pride I felt - I was getting to walk with these hero people, and carry our flag, and be very grown-up about it. It was more than 30 years ago now but I still remember it and I smile. It was such a simple moment of happiness - something uncomplicated by all the "yes, buts" of modern life....uncomplicated by all the hundreds of ways people have of subtly qualifying good things.

Oh, I know. I know we're not perfect as a country. I know some people in our military have done things that were less than gentlemanly. (And I feel that they should feel even more shame because of who they are: Americans don't DO that kind of thing, dammit!). But I still have to admit that I still have a somewhat childlike view of the military: by and large, I still see them as men who go off to fight bad people to keep us safe and free. (Although I'd also add, ideally, that they fight to make other people safe and free, as well. Or that is my hope).

I have to admit I feel a certain pride when I hear things in the news, like how a large number of Iraqi captives were freed from their kidnappers by U.S. soldiers, with the help of Iraqi police and also the person who chose (probably at his own peril) to let them know about the captives.

And I feel pride when I hear about kids who were injured (many by in-fighting amongst different native groups) being helped at field hospitals or even flown to the U.S. for surgery.

(And I feel frustration and anger when I hear certain celebrities seeming to claim that our military indiscriminately kills civilians: no, dammit. We'd have fewer of our guys dead if that were the case. When civilians are mistakenly killed, there's an investigation, and often someone's punished for it, if fault is found.)

I'm not from a big military family - oh, I've had relatives, going back to the Civil War (and possibly the Revolutionary War on my mother's side). But I don't really have anyone who was killed in the line of duty, not in recent years.

On my dad's side of the family, people fought on both sides in the Civil War (my mom's family, they were all Northerners, so they were all Union).

My dad's dad was a WWI experimental aviator. In my mom's family, a great-uncle was an infantryman.

An uncle on my mom's side was in the Navy in WWII. Several of my cousins on that side went to Vietnam. (I had one cousin who committed suicide a few years ago; I sometimes wonder if the experiences he had in Vietnam - which he never wanted to talk about - played a part in that).

I've had a few younger cousins who served in the military but they all stayed stateside; they were in kind of between the Gulf Wars.

I can't go and put wreaths on any of their graves this Memorial day; I am 1000 miles away from some of them. I hope that the remaining relatives they have, where they are, are taking care of that.

And there's not really any official, civic way to mark the day here. It seems that where I live, unless you're doing something as a family, Memorial Day is mainly a day for carpet sales and sleeping in. And that makes me kind of sad. I wonder if some of our dividedness - if the idea that some people seem to be deeply offended by shows of patriotism - has anything to do with that, or if it's the sheer overscheduledness and insularity of modern life, where if a person gets a day off, by God they're taking it as a day OFF, and no one can tell them they have to help out with some parade.

(I have to say, as an aside, another thing that makes me sad: the whole rejection-of-patriotism I've seen from some quarters. The refusal to stand for the National Anthem or to show respect to the flag. It also angers me and puzzles me: yes, you have every right (accorded to you by our fine Bill of Rights) to dislike and complain about the way the government is run currently.

I complained about some of the things Clinton did, and I would have complained about Carter had I been old enough to have understood. But there is a difference between the imperfect modern government-as-she-is-run and the IDEALS that the flag and the National Anthem stand for.

America is a great country, despite what many people say. It is home to a lot of great people - people who, when there's a natural disaster, roll up their sleeves to give blood, or give up their vacation days to go and help with the cleanup, or give the money they had put aside for "fun" to help people who lost everything.

We all enjoy great freedom in this country - I do not have to show my papers or give a reason for my travel when I drive over to the next state to shop or go to a park. Regardless of what some of the paranoid types say, I am quite sure my phone conversations are NOT being monitored and no one particularly cares what books I'm checking out from the library.

Even more than that - and I think of this often, as I fit the key into the lock of my front door - in this country I, as an unmarried woman, am not only allowed but encouraged to own property. When I first mentioned buying a house, no one looked at me aghast, no one acted as if I were some kind of deviant. I am not required to have my father or my brother sign for me. I don't have to have any kind of a chaperone. That is not true of all countries and sometimes I think the protestors may forget that.

I am also free to go to church on Sunday. The church I choose; not some state-approved church. I am not stopped, taxed, or persecuted for choosing to go there. Nor would I be were I going to a temple or a mosque or an ashram or even going nowhere on a Saturday or Sunday. Those who claim the U.S. is some kind of shadow theocracy really don't know what a theocracy is like, I think

And all of these things - and more - all of these things I have, we all have, because there have been people willing to stand up and defend them over the years. Oh, I know - some people might say, "But Hitler would have never invaded the U.S." or things like that. But it's possible he would have. Like the bumper sticker says: freedom is not free. I don't think we can ASSUME we will always be safe and that the military is unnecessary just because we are comparatively safe at this moment.

I just pray that we never ARE invaded, that we never have to give up the many blessings of freedom we have. I pray that people don't let themselves get so demagogued as to willingly give up certain freedoms, because defending them seems "too expensive." Of course it's expensive. Everything that's worth anything is going to be difficult and costly.)

dead presidents

So, today is President's Day.

(I am old enough to remember when we celebrated both Washington's and Lincoln's birthdays, instead of mooshing all the presidents - good, bad, and indifferent - into a single day for honoring. I sort of wonder if in 20 years time, if Martin Luther King's birthday will have morphed into a sort of "Civil Rights Leaders Day." Because there's something kind of sad, to me, and maybe even a little cold and bureaucratic about an "honor general classification of people" day rather than "honor this specific person who did something memorable and worthwhile day")

At any rate. This morning, on the morning news show I listen to on the radio when I am plucking my eyebrows and brushing my hair and all of the many little tasks one need do to look acceptable in the modern world, they were talking about some "Know the Presidents" quiz that was out there.

And one of the news guys kept getting the wrong answers. And they were laughing about it.

And I don't know, but maybe it's elitist of me, but I tend to think that it is a little irresponsible not to even know about WASHINGTON (good God, the first president of the nation). The guy could not pick correctly off of a list of multiple choices what Washington's main contribution was to the founding of the country (the correct answer: as a military leader and a statesman.)

(I suppose that I should be equally shocked about something I heard on Book TV yesterday - that apparently some 20% of British high-school students chose "Denzel Washington" as the name of the first American president.)

I don't know. One of the things in society currently that bugs me is that there's this strong undercurrent of anti-learning. That it's somehow wasting brain-space to know facts about history, or science, or literature. I DO think there are important events, dates, theories, and books/plays/poems that I would consider an "educated" person as needing to know. (If that means I'm an elitist who "privileges" certain information over certain other information, then fine. We need a common ground. And one place where we can find common ground is if we all have the same basic background information we know).

I've also heard some people claim that that kind of learning is "elitist" and "white-male" and that it doesn't work with "where they came from." And that makes me kind of sad...yeah, I understand the whole "my people" (whoever they were) "are not regarded as part of the historical pantheon" thing. But...just as there's a point at which the idea of saying "all literature is good" becomes ridiculous (when people are saying, for example, that a Harlequin romance from the drugstore is as meaningful to society's development and understanding the human condition as, say, King Lear),) there's also a point at which you need to stop trying to force affirmative action on history and just go, "yeah, dead white guys made a lot of history and maybe it was wrong that they prevented other people from being important, but that doesn't mean there's no need to learn them..."

I'm not sure I totally agree with the old saying about those who don't know history being doomed to repeat it, but I do tend to think that those who don't know history are kind of rootless, and may not have as clear a perspective on or understanding of
where we are now, how we got here, and what we should be doing.

Anyway. I was feeling embarrassed when they brought up the quiz and I couldn't immediately think of the 14th president (that was one of the things one of the guys asked; I knew he would have been someone shortly before Lincoln - probably the 1850s - but I could not remember). (It was Franklin Pierce.)

Some of my friends, when I was in school, knew all of the presidents in order and the dates they served. My memory was unfortunately never that good, but I did know facts about what I regarded as the "really important" presidents.

Washington
Adams (both father and son, I'd regard father as more important, but both are)
Jefferson
Jackson (also beforehand - the Battle of New Orleans and all that)
Lincoln
maybe McKinley because of the Spanish-American War
both Roosevelts
maybe Kennedy
Reagan (but then - I count presidents who were in office during a given person's lifetime as just being presidents they should know something about. For me, that begins with Nixon...well, really, it begins with LBJ but I was a baby when he was president)

I also know at least a little about some of the others:

Madison (who might rise to the "really important" list if you included his earlier work)
Fillmore (who always seems to be the butt of jokes)
Andrew Johnson (the impeachment, though I'm not sure I fully understand WHY he was impeached or on what grounds...it seems like people just didn't like him, mainly)
U.S. Grant
McKinley
Taft
Hoover (know quite a bit about him, in fact - I've been to the Hoover library and museum a couple times while traveling through Iowa; it's pretty interesting. Hoover was also - AFAIK - the only President who was a geologist/mining engineer)
Truman
Eisenhower

and then, the ones who served during my lifetime (or at least the time during which I was laying down memories).

I recognize the names of others, and if pressed, might be able to come up with a random fact (like: Buchanan was the only bachelor-president. Or: W. H. Harrison caught pneumonia at his inaguration and died slightly after), but most of the facts I know are trivia rather than "what they did historically while they were in office."

But again: maybe it's elitist of me but I think American citizens should at least know a little bit about their presidents. At least Washington, Lincoln, and the ones who served during their lifetimes. And I'll say that I think it's a little sad that there are people out there (And I KNOW, because I've talked to some) who know more about the detail of Anna Nicole Smith's life than know about the first president of our nation. ESPECIALLY people who are currently in school, who should be learning this stuff.

I also tend to think about the "what you put in your head affects you" idea - is it better to learn about the deeds of people who (though they may not have been perfect) made an effort to improve the world, who were concerned with things OUTSIDE themselves, who, in some cases, were willing to sacrifice themselves (on whatever level) for the good of others...or does that have no effect at all, and spending your waking hours reading about/watching television shows on people who are basically selfish and shallow and don't see past their noses doesn't matter?

I don't know. I know I do feel better - and I feel more pushed to try to BE better - when I read about people like Washington and Co. than when I read about whatever fake tsuris some starlet is going through (especially when much of the tsuris seem to be largely self-imposed).

I don't know. I wish that instead of a nebulous day off that is mainly notable now for furniture sales (and a really egregious car ad featuring a hip-hop rendition of "Hail to the Chief"), that we took time to educate people (schoolchildren) about who the presidents were and what they did.

Another thing I'm not sure about is - where is the line between unrealistic hagiography and portraying EVERYONE as somehow debased and not worthy of emulation? One of the problems I have with some modern historical methods is that there often seem to be people with axes to grind, who want to make it seem that no one is actually really very good, and that even the people who did great things had bad motives underlying them. And yet - I'm not sure the Parson Weems school of biography is any more helpful (Although maybe I LIKE it more. I'd like to be able to believe in larger-than-life figures, I'd like to be able to have heroes).

So I don't know. For those of you with kids in the schools today: what are they learning about the Presidents? And for everyone: Who would you include on a short list of "really important presidents" that people should know the basic policies and actions of?

V-Day hatred

This is my REAL post for today, what I would have written had I not been distracted by New Blogger and its machinations.

Next week is Valentine's Day. I had almost ignored that fact but it seems that advertising is ramping up.



I hate Valentine's day. I have three reasons: first, the reasonable-adult reasons, and second, the whiny-'tweener reason.

Reasonable adult reason one: If you treat the person you love well, if you are kind to them on an every day basis, there is really no need to buy them stuff on a trumped-up holiday. Valentine's day is not a religious holiday like Christmas, it's not like the person's birthday - in fact, I suspect the "tradition" of buying a present for your lover is a 20th century notion, by and large. Oh, maybe some of the very wealthy bought presents for their lovers in years past - but the truth is, until about 100 years ago, most people in the Western world didn't have that kind of disposable income.

(And some still don't. I kind of gasp at those shows where they show how much people are in debt. I saw a bit of one last week where the couple was bringing in like $3200 a month [more than I have as take-home after taxes, incidentally] and they were spending about $6000. And they didn't even realize that.)

So - I think it's preferable to be a loving person every day (as much as is possible) rather than go-for-broke on the little robin's egg blue box or something. (I exempt people buying engagement rings; that's somewhat different.)

A gift is NOT a "get out of jail, free" card. I know too many people who do that: they act really ratty to someone and then think they can buy them off with a pendant or a bunch of CDs or something. And while maybe some people go for that - I'd rather just have a sincere statement of "I'm sorry I was ratty to you the other day, please forgive me." (Of course, that's HARDER in a lot of cases than going out and buying something).

The other "adult" reason is related: Aren't most seriously involved couples pooling their money? So if you go and spend $5K on a bracelet, both of you are taking the financial hit? Wouldn't it be better to do something cheaper and put most of that $5K towards retirement, or a house, or college for the kids? I realize I'm not exactly a wildly PRACTICAL person but even I cringe at the thought of spending that much on a bauble when there are other things out there.

And on to the childish reason.

No one loves me.

Or rather, no one loves me in the sense of "love" that Valentine's day is designed to celebrate. I have friends. I have family. But I don't have a "lover." So all of the Valentine's day ads, they are largely meaningless and, if I let them, embittering.

(I know a wee bit how a Jewish person feels at Christmas, I guess).

I hate the whole concept that romantic love is the be-all and the end-all and that if you don't have it, you might as well hang a rock around your neck and head for the nearest bridge. Because that's not true.

And romantic love is damned hard. At least for my generation, it seems. We're the generation of "He's Just Not that Into You." (Which is the most pessimistic thing I've ever read excerpts out of.). We're the generation of Neil Clark Warren and his annoying smug face reassuring us that really, no one is too weird for Internet dating. (But I still kinda believe that I AM. I suspect I'd be one of the people who gets her money refunded, along with a firmly worded note asking me not to use their service again). We're the generation of Dr. Phil, for God's sake.

And a lot of this, I think, is because we're the children of the generation of free love, the sexual revolution, and "living together." People don't court people any more. People who are, for whatever reason repulsed by the concept of "hooking up" or "friends with benefits" are often seen as the bigger perverts than, well, perverts.

And that frustrates me. I WANT to be courted. I WANT someone to tell me that he loves me enough to wait until I'm ready. I WANT to know what's inside a guy's head before I know what's inside his skivvies.

And so, I've often turned my back on the dating scene. So much so, that now some of the things that I hear are taken for granted (like: women go and have painful things done so that they are bald as an egg "down there" at all times, just in case. 'Cos that's what men like, or so I'm told) just horrify the hell out of me.

And so, I go on. Alone. Figuring on always being alone. It sucks sometimes, but I remind myself that is sucks worse to be three-times-divorced with kids by each husband. Or that it sucks worse to be the victim of a stalker.

But you know? It would still be kind of nice to be someone's valentine.

And another thing, to vent my spleen on:

One of the magazines I read (and I'm clearly not in the demographic) was talking to married (or otherwise 'coupled') women, talking about how their "single" friends would feel "so very left out" on Valentine's day. And so, ladies, here's a kicky fun idea: The Sympathy Lunch! (only they didn't call it that.)

The idea was: you invite your poor, neglected, forsaken, single friend out to lunch on V-Day. Still leaves you open at dinner time for a romantic dinner with your lover AND you get the smug satifaction of having showered a little charity on that "Ugly Betty" in your life.

And you know? That kind of pisses me off. The whole attitude of it: first, that those of us not part of a couple would WANT to go out for lunch on the one day of the year we're likely to encounter truly gross PDAs in a restaurant. And second, that the coupled person can discharge a whole buttload of obligations by taking poor Single Sally out for a salad at the local fern bar.

This is particularly offensive as an idea if the coupled friends have (a) called upon the single friend to babysit on an emergency basis more than twice in the past year (especially if the "emergency" is "we're going nucking futz with these kids, and we just want to go see a movie as a couple") (b) if the coupled female friend has ever cancelled plans with the single - plans she already had - because of a "new honey" coming on the scene or (c) if either member of the couple EVER played the "YOU don't have a family to take care of; you do this onerous task that we really want out of" card.

Again: don't be ratty to people and then think buying them something erases that.

As v-d approaches (and you know, it's interesting that this day has the initials V.D.), I'm sure I'll rant more. I have particular ire for Pajama gram and Vermont Teddy Bear company, both of which have used the theme of "spend some money on your honey if you wanna get somethin' somethin' back."

Maybe I'm jaded because I'm a biologist and I know a little about animal behavior, but there are species in the animal kingdom where the male will, for example, kill a small bird and drop it at the female's feet. The message is: "I'm a good provider. Bear my offspring." I always thought if a fellow biologist ever gave me chocolates (and I wanted to turn a very cold hose right on him right away*), I could see saying, "Oh, a courtship food gift. I suppose you expect me to copulate with you now."

(*And I would never do that, in reality, because I'm not big enough of a bitch to. Even if the guy was a serious creep.)

Because, you know? That's almost what Pajamagram is saying with their Valentine's Day ads. And it's so crass and so wink-wink nudge-nudge that it makes me angry.

(And don't EVEN MENTION the other made-up holiday that some talk about celebrating on March 15. The one that's about a big hunk of cow and the woman doing something that most women would not choose to do if given the choice...)

Perhaps I'm actually not such a cynic at heart, although I claim to be one. Because really, I WOULD like to get a valentine's day card. I WOULD like for someone to ask me to be their valentine, in the cute silly no-real-expectations-of-quid-pro-quo like we used to do back in 4th grade. (Back before 4th graders were sexually active).

Because it is sort of a hard cold world, and the idea of someone being your Valentine in that sweet, silly, old-fashioned way makes it a little warmer.

But no. I will soldier on, Valentineless. I have a big tub of cinnamon gummy hearts I bought earlier last month and when I get to feeling too down about what "love" has come to mean in 21st century America, I will pull two or three out of the tub and chew them up. Slowly.