TGIF: The Piece(s) Of My Mind Edition

It's anyone's guess what will happen with this post. I'm winging it, just like Blogger and Feedburner seem to be with my subscribers and commenters lately. More on that later. How is everyone? Feeling Blue in The Good Way? Do grab a nice beverage and/or a snack and settle in. Let's begin.

T is for Transitions: And Ticked Off. I'm angry that Blogger is denying any and all Commenters without a Google account. I could allow for Anonymous commenters, but then you'd have to pass the dreaded Captcha, which has gotten nearly impossible. Additionally, I get overrun with spammers. I've started to work with WordPress, but unless I want to pay for their service (which I don't), it's very limiting, clunky, and not very customizable. I am also aware that my email subscribers are suddenly not getting my posts via Feedburner, also owned by Google (who owns Blogger). It's apparent that I need to make some changes, but...I really don't have the energy.

G is for Giggles: Saw this decal on the back of an SUV the other day. Luckily, it was in a parking lot, so it wasn't a danger to photograph it. I found it very refreshing and self-actualized.

I is for Involved: It's so satisfying and encouraging to hear from so many people that they became much more involved in this midterm election process. I had family members who canvassed, phone-banked, put up signs, and wrote letters. I heard from friends who had never before done any campaign work, but this year they went door-to-door or stuffed envelopes. AND! You'll be glad to know that I flipped two red voters to blue. It's astonishing what some Actual Facts and Turning People Away From Facebook And To Credible Information Sources can do. (And some Disgust Of 45*.) Sadly, due to gerrymandering in Ohio, it is not a lot of help, but...baby steps. I continue my activism, now writing to voters in Mississippi for their special election, and awaiting any opportunities for Georgia's governor's race.

F is for Fall? What Fall?: I know many of you are reading this in the Icy Tundra that is your neighborhood or workplace. Did any of you ever get to open your windows to the Autumnal Zephyrs of October? Or even September? Or, like me, did you have your windows closed, airconditioning blasting because throughout September it was in the upper 80s and 90+ with matching humidity which continued through the first week of October, followed immediately by rain and temperatures in the 40s and 50s, at which point you turned on your furnace? I swear, I opened all of my windows to "Fall" one time--on a 50-degree day--solely to air out because I could not take feeling like I had been on a Perpetual Airplane anymore. And now, sn*w. Just. Stop.

Okay! Let's see what happens once I put this Out On The Interwebs. As always, I'm everso glad to hear from All Of You.

Faster, Higher, Stronger--And No, I'm Not Discussing A Martini

My father was pretty darn good at finding that one special interest of each child and using it as a gateway for the relationship. I was sort of The Creative One, so Dad always drew me pages and pages of odd shapes, and I would make something out of each one.  Susan was into music, so Dad would listen to her favourite cuts on albums, and they'd talk about the songs.  Patti, who was older and more serious, read huge books and followed The Politics, so they'd talk about that (and later Women's Lib, which confounded my father).  My brother Bobby was into all kinds of sports, so that was their thing.  They played catch, he coached Bobby in pitching, and now, both of them are in the local Sports Hall of Fame.

Let's just say that no one should ever expect to find me in any sports hall of fame anyplace for any reason ever.  I am not, nor have I ever been, Sporty. I can remember in high school phys ed, standing in the outfield during softball, my teacher Ms. Sayre, screaming, "Nance, your ball! Coming right at you!" and me, standing there inspecting my nails, saying, "Uh huh. Okay," and stepping out of the way.  (The only reason I was even in the outfield was because A) I didn't think anyone would hit it out there, and B) there was a little bit of shade from the shed nearby.

Playing sports is worky.  And sweaty.  I prefer working my fantasy basketball team and spectator sporting. Which leads us neatly into today's question:

Did you watch the Winter Olympics?  Which events did you enjoy seeing the most?

I watched very little of the Sochi games, and even then it was because of the dreaded Nothing Else Is On Syndrome.  What the heck has happened to Olympic coverage?  Is it just me?  Because I used to watch a ton of Olympic events, and not only when I was a kid, either.  I remember watching the Lillehammer games devotedly.  Now, Somebody In Charge decides what I am permitted to watch, and usually it is endless hours of stuff I Don't Care About or stuff That Is Kinda or Mostly Boring.  Add to that the fact that, no matter where you go on the Interwebs or even broadcast television, they announce the results without any warning, and it's hard to care what happens when you finally do see it.  If you do.

Admittedly, the Winter Games don't hold as much interest for me as the Summer Games do.  I hate snow and winter so much that watching these people willingly cavort around out there actually irritates me.  And makes me cold.  And I get sick of hearing them talk about how lousy the snow is, or how bad the ice is, or how they've had to make snow and how much, and yada yada yada.  Here's an idea:  have the Winter Games in Northeastern Ohio where WE HAVE WINTER WHEN IT IS WINTER.  D U H.

I like to watch luge, skeleton, and ski jump.  I like some curling because it is Canadian and because it is so odd and befuddling.  And because they wear such fun uniforms.  Luge and skeleton scare the hell out of me because it's just a person and a sled. Period.  At something like eighty miles an hour.  Ski jumping is fun to watch for a little bit, and then it gets repetitive, so Rick and I practice our British and Australian accents and do our own commentary, inventing harsh penalties for minuscule infractions, and predicting horrible tragedies.

It's all very morbid and awful and we laugh like rabid hyenas the entire time.  "Well, that's not getting him on the podium, Nigel.  At least four tenths come off the top for that head position.  Oh no, oh no!  If he doesn't bring that tibia back into line right now, right now, his center of gravity will be too far forward and he's looking at an absolutely crushing faceplant. Oh my, what a tragedy, and after all the work he's put in since that terrible fall from the Ferris wheel last year."

Maybe the Games were overhyped; maybe they weren't hyped enough. I don't know.  I do know I was glad when they were over.  Rick was glad because then his ritual of watching Dr. Phil with a beer when he got home from work could resume and his TV schedule was back in order.  I was glad, in part, because I don't like the word "Sochi."  It sounds like a made-up Mama word for a pacifier.

I'm sure I'm in the minority here, so fire away in comments.  Also, Feedburner and Blogger are completely estranged now.  I don't know what to do, but I keep trying.  Today, it told me I have no email subscribers, so if anyone has any ideas, please let me know.  Thank you.

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It's Time For A Public Service Announcement: Had To Be Said

We here at the Dept. would like to take a Time Out from (somewhat) Regularly (ha ha) Scheduled Programming in order to make a Public Service Announcement.

For the past, oh, what seemed to us...eleventy billion years, a variety of clutch-popping, Glen Beckistan-residing, NASCAR-watching, Walmart-shopping, double-digit-IQ-testing, Sarah Palin-fantasizing, War On Christmas-complaining, homophobic hee-haws have been gleefully hauling out their massive snowblowers during a frigid January blizzard and guffawing, "Whar's Al Gore's global warmin' now, huh?"


Oh, you sad twits.  Where are you now?

Allow me to quote from one of their favourite places, The Weather Channel, where it is noted that "record-breaking warmth engulfed portions of the Midwest Thursday afternoon. Temperatures have reached up to 40 degrees above early January averages in North Dakota. Minot, N.D. (61 degrees) and Williston, N.D. (58 degrees) have both set all-time record highs for the month of January! In Minot, 61 degrees is the average high for late April. "

And lest they think it is only North Dakota basking in such temperate bliss,"daily record highs have been set in Des Moines, Iowa (65 degrees), Rapid City, S.D. (73 degrees), International Falls, Minn. (46 degrees), St. Louis, Mo. (66 degrees) and Fargo, N.D. (55 degrees), to name a few locations" are also toasty this winter.  In fact, allow me to show you some pictures.

This map shows you the high temperatures expected for Friday, today, in the USA, aka The Greatest Country In The World (to the Climate Change Deniers, for whom "global" means the US anyway).  In my town in NEO today, we are currently at a screamin' hot 55.  As of today, I have only worn my winter coat ONE TIME.  And you know how I am. Tomorrow, the high is forecast to be 42. And except for Sunday, which is forecast to be 37, we will not be lower than the forties any day for the next five.  This is January, may I remind you, and in Ohio.

This map shows you how many degrees above average the temperatures forecast for today, Friday, will be.  Holy crap.  Look how hot Iowa is even though all the republicans have already left.  Even the Yoopers are feeling the heat up there.  They are probably in sandals and Bermuda shorts.

So, I'm waiting, all you Global Warming Self-Styled Experts.  You're awfully quiet.  And so is my snowblower.

Of Animals And Arizona And Abby (The Second)--And All Better Now!

Pardon me, but it's time to shake out a little Cerebral Residue. I've simply got to get rid of these little clutterbits and oddments that have been taking up the more...Intellectual Residences of my brain.

}*{ When I was watching the Preakness, a couple of thoughts occurred to me, and--obviously--I haven't been able to get rid of them. Firstly, why are the horses that escort the racehorses (I have no idea what the proper term for these Buddy Horses is) so much better-looking than the actual entrants? I mean, these are some gorgeous animals. They are vastly more interesting, for one thing: they are spotty or lovely grey or just much prettier. I prefer horses that come in different colors, not just brown or black. I always root for any grey horse, even if it looks like a brokendown old nag with its tongue tied off to the side or something. Secondly, what is up with Maryland's badass State Song? Holy crap, have you ever listened to that song's lyrics? Let me tell you, that is one Thug Anthem song. Talkin' 'bout "Avenge the patriotic gore" and "Remember Howard's warlike thrust" and even "She spurns the Northern scum!" Hey! That Maryland talks a helluva lot of trash! I used to want to retire to southern Maryland, but once I got deep into that State Song, believe you me, this is one Northern Scum that got totally spurned. Mission accomplished, Maryland!

}*{Speaking of relocating, I used to have Arizona on that list, too. Oh well--another one bites the dust! Hey, Arizona! You are just Ohio with better weather. I already live in the State Of Intolerance (aka OHIO)! We said no to gay marriage a long time ago, and now one of our downstate statesmen wants to adopt your model for an immigration law. "Get over yourself, Nance," Rick said. "There is no place that fits every requirement you have. Besides, Arizona is redder than Ohio. What were you thinking?" I don't know. Help!

}*{In today's Plain Dealer the second letter to Dear Abby was...startling. I read it aloud to Sam this morning. He laughed and said, "Better ask Dad if he wrote it." For the record, allow me to state the following: 1. My children are done with college; 2. Rick and I adopted the kittens together; 3. I have only photographed them a couple of times; 4. Rick and I have a lot of feline-free time together and not much of it is spent talking about the kittens. (Both of whom, however, are still pretty cute.)

}*{Finally, two more animal-related notes: one about bunnies and another about cows. Longtime readers of the Dept. (and even the now-defunct Stuff On Our List) will recall how I often bemoaned the fact that Bunnies Are Sadly Under-utilized In Advertising. I have noticed now that there are two commercials on television that use bunnies! Upsettingly, one includes a snake, but hey! We cannot have everything. My second Animal Newsnote deserves a little paragraph all its own.

}*{This exciting Cow Mention was brought to me by my Google News Cow Alert. There is a baseball team called the Delaware Cows! Here is their logo. Also known as the Battlin' Bovines, the Delaware Cows have, naturally, a website where you can get all kinds of gear bearing this baseball bossy. As you know, I am not On Board with animals wearing clothing, but the simple fact that there is a baseball team known as the Cows is good publicity for the herds, who have been taking the heat for global warming--wrongly, some environmentalists and scientists now claim.

I feel like we've been able to cover a lot of topics with this one, Readers. And I feel so very...refreshed! It's been lovely. Do shake out a bit yourself in Comments, should you feel so compelled.

When Right Is Wrong And Simple Gets Complicated

(This was mentioned in an email by my buddy Shirley as a possible topic to explore here at the Dept., and when it came up in the comments section on my other blog, I thought it deserved discussion.)

Have you ever noticed how damned hard it is to do the right thing anymore? We were told to start drinking more water, so we all ditched soda and began buying bottled water. Now we're being carped at about how gullible we are for spending money on water, of all things, and worse, for overloading the landfills with more needless plastic containers. Then, we find out that--horrors to end all horrors--the reusable bottles we opted for to save the environment are made out of Bisphenol A and phthalates, which are detrimental to our health and may linger in our bodies far longer than first thought. Holy crap. What the hell are we supposed to do? I guess just dehydrate or get hammered on wine, which, depending upon the studies, may or may not be good for us.

We're all trying so hard not to add to the general clutter of our planet and our lives. The mantra for the last ten years seems to be Simplify, Simplify. I like the concept. I really do. I used to get two newspapers a day. I subscribed to four magazines: Vanity Fair, Newsweek, Entertainment Weekly, Bon Appetit. Then I realized something: when each one came, I sat down immediately and read it, cover to cover. Then it sat on the coffee table where it used to get knocked off by someone (Jared or Sam) propping his feet up or a rambunctious cat event, or used as a coaster. I had to keep moving it to dust or look for something. Eventually, I'd recycle it, then wait for the new one. And I hated Magazine Gleaning--you know, the time you take to first rip out all the stupid subscription cards, overpowering perfume samples, and freefalling ad cards that inhibit your reading enjoyment. Finally, I stopped renewing, and I don't miss any of them. I read lots of interesting stuff online. Where there are no annoying cards, no smelly perfumes, and I feel like I'm being environmentally-conscious as well.

But...yikes. Have you seen this? I feel really guilty! So many magazines are folding. So many people out of work! Crap.

Now, the newspaper thing is a little different. I am down to one newspaper a day for an entirely different reason. I stopped our local paper because I just could not tolerate A) the poor level of writing; B) the obvious bias against our high school; C) the delivery person's stubborn refusal to stop tracking through our landscaping. Okay. But my wonderful remaining newspaper, the Cleveland Plain Dealer is having its problems as well. Layoffs! Job cuts! The publisher that owns it and other newspapers sees a grim future. People are getting their news online, no doubt about it. And...that is keeping lots of paper out of the waste stream. And the demand for recyclable material in this economy is down anyway. See what I mean? I'm being green and environmentally responsible! Yet I might be hurting the U.S. economy as well!

I think this is, perhaps, an example of a Catch-22.

So, my question is: Am I part of the solution or part of the problem?

My Beef With All The Bad Press About Cows

Cows again, my friends, are in the news. I don't go looking for these items; they find me. Yes, it seems that it is My Destiny to be an advocate for my bovine brethren...er, sistren, is it? whatever--since they cannot effectively manage their own publicity. Cases in point:

Item: Steer's Owner Ticketed for 'Excessive Mooing'. Incredibly, a Washington County, Ohio resident, who owns a single cow named Wally, was served with a misdemeanor citation for "ongoing nuisance cow mooing." Wally, who lives on a 33-acre farm zoned for 50 head of cattle, "moos maybe once or twice a day," says his owner, Karyl Hylle. Important to note is the fact that when the sheriff and/or his deputies had been called out on each of the 21 complaints by the neighbor, Mark (who asked that his last name not be used), Wally never said a single word. Even when prodded by reporters, Wally never uttered a sound. The citation carries a $1000 fine and/or 90 days in jail. Clearly, Mark just hates cows. Or has no knowledge of them. Cows moo. That is their native tongue. And, it would seem Wally does precious little of that as it is.

Item: Man Admits Sexually Molesting Cows. Lest you think this is a random, one-time thing, this 56-year-old man was charged with the same offense in 2000, but "police decided against bringing a cruelty-to-animals charge against Viens [the offender] after consulting with a veterinarian, who said no harm came to the cows." Did this horrific act occur in some Third World, unenlightened country as part of an occult ritual? No! It occurred in Vermont, U.S.A.! The farm employees caught him in the act, the police were called, and Mr. Viens gave them a sworn confession on the spot. Why not? He will only be charged with trespassing, I'm sure. After all, no harm came to the cows! How do they know?

Item: Global Warming and Stylish Cows. I am grown increasingly fatigued of cows being blamed in part for global warming. First was the FearMongering of Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy (mad cow disease--how I even hate to see it in words before me!), and its effect on beef and dairy, and now the insidiousness of the Republicans trying to mitigate the responsibility of big business by pointing the finger at innocent bovine flatulence. Who amongst us has not had a bit of intestinal gas every now and then? If your diet was made up entirely of grains and grass, wouldn't you have a bit of the bubbleguts? But I digress. An OpEd writer from Pennsylvania went to the PennEnvironment press conference to learn more about the devastation that could be wreaked upon Pennsylvania's particular environment by global warming if left unchecked. According to one spokesman, the forecast is dire for the state's dairy cows, whose milk production would drastically reduce due to heat stress. Rather than take this threat seriously, this cavalier writer instead spun it to blame the cows themselves, asking that since "gassy cows produce one quarter of the methane that's causing global warming," wouldn't it be better if the state's cows die, meaning that fewer of them are producing the gas? When the PennEnvironment guy reminded him that the cows wouldn't necessarily die, but produce less milk, this wag of a writer offered this solution: “couldn't we affix large, floppy sun hats to the cows' heads so they can graze in the heat? They would stay comfortable and look stylish.” I cannot even begin to enumerate the problems with this if he doesn't know them already. The least of which is that no one looks good in large, floppy sunhats especially if one is already large. Duh.

The incessant, inexplicably vicious campaign against cows continues. Their one champion besides me would be, perhaps, the Real California Cheese advertising campaign in which the happy cows play Marco Polo, Knock Knock Zoom Zoom, and otherwise frolic and behave in acceptably fun ways while decidedly not wearing clothing. Do your part. Become an advocate for cows today. Appreciate them. Count them when on long car trips. Moo at them when you pass them. Don't buy figurines of them wearing clothing. And never, ever order your beef well done. That's just wrong.

Last Year at The Dept. of Nance: The Alaskan Adventure Part V