The Blog as Diet

If I could stop eating in front of the TV at night I would be MUCH thinner. It is a weird addictive thing. I have tried knitting, crosswords etc. Anything to keep my hands busy and now I realize what I must do.....BLOG.

Think of all the creativity that would be expended in the name of distraction. But then again, this is the problem in a nutshell. We are all too distracted. Too distracted to be mindful about what we are doing. When we are doing ten things at once. Right now I am thinking about work, typing this, listening to the TV in the next room and waiting for the phone to ring.

I tried Yoga. It was actually great but VERY hard. Bending into a human pretzel is one thing but attempting to try and clear your mind is nearly impossible for me. The one time I think I do approach it during the week is the 8:15 am spin class I go to on Sunday mornings. I go no matter what. I can be tipsy from the night before, but I never miss it. (My husband said last week that if someone licked him at the end, they would have been drunk because we had so much wine the night before!) It is like religion. The music is great and the lights are low and I sweat buckets. I can let my mind roam free and drift to happy times and places and dare to dream.

So I am one of those fit fat folks, who blogs.

Moderate Muslims

By accident I forwarded an email posted to me by my Mom. I should have thought to check Snopes. We keep asking her to do it before she forwards but she doesn't. It involved a claim that U of Kentucky canceled a Holocaust course due to some kind of nod to Muslim students. I definitely should have checked because it was false. (You can click on the colored links for more.) I got a reply from one of my friends that most Muslims are "moderate" and that to forward something like this is to go against the very peace loving nature of the Muslim community. I feel bad but I also am a skeptic. I would like to hear the Muslim leadership do more publicly.

It got me thinking about this assertion. First I looked at a bunch of websites related to college campuses and holocaust deniers (very depressing!) and then I looked at more about the Muslim movement towards moderation. (very sparse!) The Muslim group that the United Reform Jewish movement in its infinite wisdom chose to partners with is suspect. There was an interesting response to this choice by some Muslim groups who claim moderation and I will be looking to see if they merit support.

While there is so much garbage on the web that it is difficult to know what is true, I did happen across some very surprising info. And very scary. If anyone knows of legitimate moderate Muslim groups which publicly denouncing an interpretation of their Sharia laws which seems to encourage murder, mistreatment of women, etc. --I would like to support them. I am far from a scholar on Qu'ran and want to learn more. Please forward.

All of this makes me very sad. I do have some Muslim friends but we are all very careful never to discuss the elephant in the room. Maybe it is time for an honest dialog.

Turkeys at the Gym

My friend snapped this picture in the parking lot at the gym. There have been a whole flock of wild turkeys hanging out in the parking lot there for weeks. I wasn't there this morning and as you know from yesterday's post, I need to now work out this evening. She tried to coax it into the gym to join her for cardio. I think the bird is wondering about all of the humans going inside to push and pull at the machines, run miles and miles without going anywhere, cycle and go nowhere, and swimming back and forth ending up where we started. Who, exactly, are the turkeys?

Turkeys are actually an interesting American subject. Did you know Ben Franklin recommended they be the national bird. They are indigenous to the US and I remember it was impossible to get one when I lived in London in--gasp--1980. They don't look too bad, actually. And they are certain not birds of prey like the eagle. So what would that say about us? To have a humble bird vs. an eagle. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Many of you--if anyone is reading this--will wonder if it is an April Fool's joke. It is not!! But everyone deserves a smile, especially on there way to the gym. (I couldn't quite eat my turkey sandwich).

Everything should be kept in perspective of course. Next time you are really pissed off that a bird took a ---- on your car, think of this poor guy!

Happy April Fool's!
p.s. I think I am beginning to get the hang of this blogging thing. You can forward if you like. I was worried that people would know it is me--but honestly, I don't think I would write anything I wouldn't stand behind. That is not really in my nature anyhow.

Next Quarter

Here we go again, get up, go to the bathroom and step on the scale. It is Monday morning and the "diet" begins. Plus it is the beginning of a new quarter of the year and I had a made an (ahem) resolution to lose a lot in the first quarter.

While I am not sure what got me this way, there is one thing I know for sure.
I know that it is not about the food. It is definitely about behavior modification. I started watching this guy on the Learning Channel who says he can make you lose weight. I also bought a book. by Dr. Shapiro which is kind of a picture book of choices. It is very eye opening!!!

So, I guess I will try try again. What precipitated this? I was serving smoothies at a school breakfast and all the moms were beautiful and also half my size. Some were clearly too small, vying for their 14 year old daughter's jeans could be an option. The rest were just very tiny. I wonder if they eat at all!

I also want to be healthy. I want to be able to beat my friend T up the hill when we cycle in a couple of months. We usually bike about 30 miles but she always beats me up the hills! Darn it.
Really I am exasperated with myself. It is time to wake up when you have to spend 15 minutes figuring out what you will fit into rather than what you want to wear.

When it comes right down to it--I guess you just have to flip the switch. That's it. The light is on.

Capitalism or Bust?

I strongly recommend that you read "The 10 Days That Changed Capitalism" from yesterday's Wall Street Journal. It is an excellent article which, in my humble opinion, raises some very important issues. When should the government get involved in our market system? Is this different than when FDR took extreme measures and how? Does this create a system which guarantees the ability of investment banks to continue the way they have without real consequences? What is the responsibility of government in a democratic republic.

What happens when the Fed lends our investment banks over 31 BILLION per day in three days without a true idea of the collateral they hold? Where is Congress and our representative government in this? This is probably one of the most astounding examples of government activism in history.

Clearly, there needs to be some regulation. And man, will there be. I am almost thinking my ban on more lawyers in our house. But how and when do we intervene in our "free market" system? And who will pay for it later?

Unsung Heroes

Here is a "shout out" or rather a "sing out" to all the moms in Roslyn NY and all the other moms who are a little bit under appreciated. You are the unsung heroes of our time. But I was thinking, what exactly does that mean?

In my town, it means that a lot of women are at home with their children. They gave up the choice to be a doctor, lawyer or chief (of something), usually after they went through everything to attain that dizzying height. They used the choice that they finally had, (with thanks to the "women's lib" movement--though I am not sure "liberation" is really all that accurate)and made a decision to give their families the best that they had, themselves. For that I applaud you! Most of those women are like my sisters. They are homemakers. With out them it just simply would not be a home. They teach their children lessons, academic--to be sure, but also emotional. And isn't that some of the most important support that you can give?

As a mom who works outside the home, I suppose I made another choice. I thought that my choice was governed by economics and the material things I wanted to provide to my family and also I thought I should be share that responsibility with my partner and spouse along with the opportunity for him to be around more to parent. (I also work with him--the subject for another humorous future post). I always fantasized that I could be like my sisters. That I would be cooking with my boys, or doing science projects. In truth, I am not the most patient person. I guess that I wouldn't have been cut out to be home all the time. I work from home two days a week so I could be there for the bus, to meet the other moms and know about the "dirt" on the school etc and to do some of the IQ and EQ teaching and moral prodding that our kids need. One foot in and one partially out.

In the end, I am not sure any of us know if our choices were the right ones. All we can know is if we tried to do our own best. I used to feel so guilty, that I wasn't home. Then I realized that some of the moms weren't really home at all. They had a black belt in shopping, tennis, lunching or that ever present job of chairing (PTA Charity) and were barely there at all. In the end, for their kids, that may have been best also.

So what does that leave me with as my kids will soon be off to their own lives, to their own homes (hopefully someday). A little less guilt. A little more of a sense of humor. A little yelling and a lot of love. And of course, a little singing.

After all, you can't be an "unsung hero" if at least you sing for yourself every once in a while. Who knows, maybe some other familiar voices will join the chorus.

College Road Trip

During my college days the words began with a whisper but grew to the swelled rumblings that echoed through a dorm or frat house. "Road trip!!!" we cried. What usually ensued was a trip to Canada for Brador beer (much higher in alcohol content--or so we thought) or maybe to a big city like Boston to visit our wayward friends at places like Wellesley or our friend who played Magenta in "Rocky Horror Picture Show". (A story for another time...)
Nowadays the term "road trip" has come to have a new meaning. Instead it means the beginning of the journey with my son to figure out where he would be most happy studying, learning and generally growing up. We have now visited about 5 colleges. One of them was at a State University where we visited the son of a dear friend. We took him out to dinner and had him show us his school. He was very proud. It was thrilling to see his newfound adulthood and how proud he was of the fraternity he pledged and the fact that he will undoubtedly be the next social chair.
It was exactly as I remembered it. He was nervous to lead us into the frat house but we assured him we had seen plenty in our days at school. As the heavy door creaked open, he led us from the bright sunlight into the dank and dirty boys club and the unmistakable smell of days old beer spill hit me. It was such an unmistakable odor. It smelled of "day after".
He led us to their "party room" and apologized for the state of the place. He will improve it and add a lot to the health and beauty of the place, to be sure. It certainly was not the worst I had seen and I wanted my son to see it, and to see it without the romance of loud music, dark lighting and beautiful sorority girls to cover up what it was. He will have to make his own choices soon. But I was thinking, maybe if he sees it in the light of day, in the light of the day after, he will think too.

Memory Keeper

Years ago, gosh, decades ago, in High School, I had two best friends. One of them was Protestant and beautiful thin and blonde. Her hair had to be swept to the side or she would literally sit on it. Her jeans were always beautifully patched and sewn in the style of the time. She listened to classical music and played the flute. From the green coolness of her bedroom she looked out of her too-wise -for-her-years-eyes and could easily hurl the best, most accurate, sarcastic appraisals of our high school times and I loved her for it. She lived in one of the most beautiful homes I have ever seen, with mahogany trim. It had the perfect entry for a Christmas tree, though they always had it in the living room. We shared Christmas holidays, lots of "firsts" and all the horrors of high school.
The other was raven haired and attractive in a way none of us really understood. She had a certain charisma, a way of influencing people. She was Catholic. She was always tempting fate. She started out in little ways. She grew pot plants on her window sill. When her mother realized what they were, she vacuumed up the leaves. Neither of them said a word about it. Later in her life she was always part of a strong group, and never was just a member of a cult-like group, but was the leader of it. We shared Easter. We shared boyfriends. We shared our other best friend. She convinced us to join the chess club. The boys there would love us, she said.
And I guess I seem myself as the "stocky" brunette. But that can't be true. I was a figure skater and skated hours every day. I wasn't much over 110 pounds at 5'4". I am Jewish and shared my holidays with both of my friends. They came to Seder, to celebrate Hanukkah. Through the years many memories fade. I haven't thought about many of them. All three of us liked to write. We wrote long letters to one another. I have always had a fantasy that I would write a book about those times. I lost track of those two women. I moved to Georgia, one of us was in Africa as a missionary (I told you I have a great book here) and the other lived in NYC. I guess I always wondered if they kept my letters too. I wondered if we shared the same memories.
Years later, my path has crossed with one of them. She has inspired me to write again. Who would have thought, over 30 years ago, I would be here at this keyboard. In front of a machine that only a few (the Mathletes and Chess boys we knew) might have predicted.
She is my memory keeper. And I am hers. I didn't even remember the time we made Hamantaschen for Purim. But she did. And she even posted my old recipe, in my own hand, to her blog..
And so, maybe I will get out the letters that have moved with me from state to state, home to home. Maybe I will reread the journals. Maybe....I will write again. With thanks to my memory keeper.

Office of Intergovernmental Affairs

I haven't written in my blog since January and I do not want to let the New Year go by without a true attempt to do this. Of course if I could write like maggpiemusing, (she dreamily thinks....). Anyhow, hard reality has hit NYC. We have gotten a million calls from people at Bear Stearns looking for work. I kept thinking, omg, I hope their windows don't open. The beautiful building that rose above us and showed such promise has been raffled off. If I had the hang of this blog stuff I would link here to www.dealbreaker.com where Bess Levin has written some raunchy but hillarious posts about Bear, Spitzer and all of the other NYC nonsense.

So what on earth is the title of this blog and why? Well in NYC, you just can not make this stuff up!!! We now have a new Governor. He is African American, and blind, and apparently a very randy guy. In fact, the comments from everyone in our office have to do with the fact that the woman of the affair looks much like his wife. One can only imagine the jokes on Wall Street. And here we are on another week with another phillandering politician, who may or may not have used state funds. Another week with a wife, dutifully by his side, at a press conference.

The punchline is hillarious though. At least the woman in question is not employed by an interstate prostitution ring. You guessed it---she works in the Office of Intergovernmental Affairs!!!!

Once a week

Every day this week I have thought of something to write, but since there is no audience, and no one is missing this, it has gotten pushed to the bottom of the To Do List. I have a long rotating list, including things I must do at least once a week. I have to add a few things of course, like remember to call my sisters. It is sad that much of it related to business.

1. Do one anonymous act of kindness
2. Check out the birthday cards I should start sending
3. Call my family
4. Write one letter to an old friend
5. Sing one great song in the shower
6. Read a couple of good political pieces to stay current.
7. Zig where I should zag.....

What is your weekly to do?

Today I am a Blog

Having read the wonderful blog by magpiemusing, I decided to give this a whirl. A blank screen is a bit intimidating but I am up for a new challenge. The title kind of popped into my head but it really does say a lot about me. I am always searching, it is a job requirement and a life requirement. A large part of who I am depends on making connections and a love of people's stories. Maybe I am meant to tell them....

I hear and see a lot of hilarious things so I thought maybe if I am not going to write the great American novel, I can start writing in bits and pieces about my observations of the world around me.

So here I am, a Needle in a Haystack--some things to seek---hopefully found. Wish me luck, I am on my way!