Tougher Than The Rest

I have spent many of the last 36 hours watching coverage of the celebration of Teddy Kennedy's life. More eloquent people than I have - and will - summarize his legacy and what he has represented to his family and this country over the last 50 years.

The words that have come into my mind as I have read and watched and listened to these tributes are toughness, love, hope and, most powerfully - perseverance.

I couldn't find any song in my library with perseverance in the title...and the one that comes up most on iTunes is by a band called Hatebreed. Well that didn't sound like it fit the moment. Brian Stokes Mitchell sang Impossible Dream at the memorial Friday night and that seemed appropriate...but a bit melodramatic. So, I'll take Bruce and Tougher Than the Rest.

Here's what Dictionary.com says:

per⋅se⋅ver⋅ance – noun

1.	steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., esp. in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.

2.	Theology. continuance in a state of grace to the end, leading to eternal salvation.

---

Origin:
1300–50; ME perseveraunce

Synonyms:
Doggedness, steadfastness. Perseverance, persistence, tenacity, pertinacity imply resolute and unyielding holding on in following a course of action. Perseverance commonly suggests activity maintained in spite of difficulties or steadfast and long-continued application: Endurance and perseverance combined to win in the end.

Persistence, which may be used in either a favorable or an unfavorable sense, implies unremitting (and sometimes annoying) perseverance: persistence in a belief; persistence in talking when others wish to study.

Tenacity, with the original meaning of adhesiveness, as of glue, is a dogged and determined holding on. Whether used literally or figuratively it has favorable implications: a bulldog quality of tenacity; the tenacity of one's memory
************************************************************************************

I aspire to be remembered as having 1/10 the toughness, love, hope and perseverance of Teddy Kennedy.

Two More Bottles of (Organic) Wine - Emmylou Harris

Three months later...she felt unburied enough to post.

I don't know when, but at some point I became aware that I had a favorite wine. By a long shot. I have long preferred Chardonnay - and to be more specific, California or, if I must, Oregon or Washington, Chardonnay. The ones where you can kinda taste the wood a bit (wine snobs call this "oakey"), and that are substantive enough to roll around in your mouth and cause no puckering. I think they call this, "round" or "big" or something.

Over the years I've gone through phases with some good wines, always looking for something in the $9.99 - 12.99 range for everyday drinking. I believe that life is too short, and wine is too caloric, to drink average or bad wine. For a while in the early part of this decade, Mark West made that kind of Chardonnay. Somewhere about three years ago it got a little "thin" for my liking...probably about the same time they decided that they were on a "Pinot for the People Revolution." So I switched to Bogle, which is from Washington state. Bogle has one of the best Chardonnays at the $10 price point. I still drink it occasionally.

Many years ago I was on the Board of Business for Social Responsibility. Fetzer was one of our signature members - having distinguished itself as a company with an environmental and social orientation. In 1987 they started making organic wines...before pretty much anyone knew what that meant. And in the late 1990's I think I bought a few bottles of Bonterra Chardonnay at the local health food store. This is saying something, since Maryland's wine laws are crazily restrictive. I thought it was good, not great. But then after my Mark West/Bogle period I tried the Bonterra again. And, damn, it was so good. Just that right balance of flavors to make it a great everyday drinking wine that can also stand up to a variety of foods.

So for the last couple of years, Bonterra has been the house wine at our home. It's on the high range of of my "every day price point," but if you buy a case they give you a discount. :)

Friday night I bought a case and read the top of the box: In keeping with our mission to be environmentally responsible, we have used earth-friendly materials to produce this wine product, packaging and carton. Please help us reduce waste in landfills by reusing and recycling this carton and glass.

I love that.

And to prove that I do have the best job in the world, a few months ago one of my GlobalGiving corporate partners introduced me to Brown-Forman, Bonterra's current owner. And now we are working on a potential partnership with them that will make it easy for more people to support sustainable agriculture, just like they do.

I love it when my worlds collide. Cheers.

Pride - U2, Having just visited MLKs Neighborhood

I'm in Atlanta for the first time in 15 or so years, and have been stuck in a hermetically sealed conference hotel for the better part of three days. Today is my only full free day before more meetings tomorrow and then heading back to DC.

Friends on Facebook had suggested various things to do...Braves games (Can you say rain delay two days in a row?), Stone Mountain (too far, no car), APEX gallery (closed on Sunday), etc. So I decided to go to the Martin Luther King Historic Site and King Center, and I decided to get there by foot. Not a far walk, maybe a mile and a half. And it gave me the chance to walk through "Sweet Auburn," a neighborhood that was a thriving African -American community in the time of MLK.

First, the Center and Site - until researching for my visit, I didn't realize that there was a lot of angst between the family, who run the King Center, which includes MLK and Coretta Scott King's gravesite/memorial and the Park Service, which runs the "Historic Site" across the street.

The King Center was built in the 1970s, and apparently is essentially the MLK Library. They have trained tens of thousands of people in nonviolent change strategies, which is awesome. The facility itself is, frankly, pretty uninspired. It consists of three rooms - one about MLK and CSK, one about Rosa Parks, and one about Gandhi. Yes, Gandhi. The displays look like something out of an elite high school's "black history month" fair. The best thing about them is the real items they have to display - the suitcase MLK packed before his fatal trip to Memphis, his Grammy for spoken word, the dress she wore to sing a Freedom Concert. In fact, I learned a lot about CSK. She was a force. The tomb is on the property, as is his childhood home, and the original Ebenezer Baptist Church is next door.

While I was there, people were arriving to attend services at Old Ebenezer. And New Ebenezer - the new church...which is across the street adjacent to the Park Service-run Historic Site, which was built in the mid 1990's.

The Historic Site seems to be much better funded, maintained, and kept more recent. It has many displays, a theater, video, a civil rights "walk of fame" that features footprints of folks ranging from John Lewis to Dr. Dorothy Height. And the grounds are just beautiful.

The most upsetting part of the journey was the walk along several blocks of the neighborhood I mentioned above. Sweet Auburn seems to be more like Sour Auburn these days. Businesses are boarded up. Men were sleeping on the sidewalks and bus stops, public housing and boarded up apartments with barbed wire are more prevalent than families or row houses. It looks like gentrification is moving toward Sweet Auburn - the historic Odd Fellows Hall has a sign in its window that says, "Coming Soon - B Eco Breakfast Eatery." Huh?

So what about this? How about if the King family and the Park Service got together and created some efficiency with their two sites, worked with the City of Atlanta on some economic stimulus fund proposals and invested whatever savings and funding they can come up with in the revitalization of the community? Led by people OF the community. Oh, and there could be a joint MLK Heritage Center - one brought about by non-violent partnership.

...just sayin'.

Adam Lambert rocks Mad World

"Never Give Up' - Common Sense (for Marissa Coleman)

Check out this song: Never Give Up by Common Sense

It's been a while since I've posted on my blog. I guess I needed to be shoved out of my writers block by something inspiring. That kick in the ass came yesterday in the truly breathtaking performance of Marissa Coleman in University of Maryland Women's Basketball team's come-from-behind triumph over Vandy in the regional NCCAAW finals.

Lots has been written recently about Coleman and her senior teammate, Kristi Tolliver. The Baltimore Sun went so far as to say that expectant mothers should include Kristi and Marissa on their list of baby names. They are both spectacular competitors and spectacular athletes, who I was honored to watch in two games here last week. But yesterday, Marissa Coleman "brought it" in a way I have not seen since playing against Jackie White in the CA State High School Championships in 1980. (After crushing us in the semi's, she totally willed herself and her team to victory in the finals from a 17 point deficit) Unlike Jackie, Marissa Coleman will have a chance to play professional basketball and earn endorsement money and become - as she dreams - a prime-time sports commentator. Thank you TitleIX and the passing of time.

Mike Wise summed it up really well in his column today in the Washington Post: "Ain't No Stopping Her Now." My favorite excerpt, noting the (unlikely-to-happen) recognition warranted by this performance:

Under "Notable Events" in the RBC Center's history, things such as "Bruce Springsteen and E Street Band's Reunion Tour, 2000" and "Stanley Cup Finals, 2002 and 2006" listed. After today, it needs to include "NCAA Women's Tournament Regional Championships."

Coleman's performance literally took my breath away and reminded me why - among lots of reasons - I love competitive sports. It's about heart, and team and never giving up.

Don't Let Me Come Home a Stranger - Robin/Linda Williams

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6b2ELNuN3M


Home. Few words, in and of themselves, have so much power. Besides the word "love," it is hard to come up with a word whose literal meaning - and symbolic and emotional resonance - is more visceral. In fact, I would argue that love is so overdone that home wins in an arm wrestling contest. When I have an idea I want to write about I generally go to my iTunes Library and do some searching on the key words around the topic. So I typed in "home" and got 90 items. I am sure that is a record. No pun intended.

I arrived in Northern California last Thursday afternoon. It was a crisp spring day. And certain things just hold:

• You can bet there will be See's and Ghirardelli chocolate stores in the airport
• If you can, you always want to drive on 280 vs 101. The experience is just so much better.
• There will be lots of people outside. Always.
• The fog will roll in over the hills in that billowing way.
• Mom will have put fresh cut flowers and a bottle of water in my room and
• Dad will have a fire going in the fireplace, even if it's really not that cold.

As usual, the smells are the thing that always kick me in the butt. They yell at me - FAMILIARITY! EASE! HISTORY! No, that's wrong. They whisper to me, "familiarity, comfort, embrace." Saturday my brother and sister-in-law and I went over to the coast...the beach of my growing up. Santa Cruz, Twin Lakes, Capitola. We sat in the sun (me, with 50+ sunscreen on the surgery scar on my neck), we ate lunch by the water, we drove along the cliffs. And we came back on the "old highway." With the window cracked just an inch I drank in the smell of the eucalyptus trees. It's just a smell you don't get on the east coast. And it is a smell that causes that strong, familiar feeling.

This song, written by the Williams' and in my view best performed by Tim O'Brien, really sums it up for me. Tim is a Telluride Bluegrass regular, and this song was on an album he and his sister Mollie put out in 1994 that speaks to their Appalachian/Celtic roots. Mary Black does a great version, which is popular in Ireland. Unfortunately I could not find any of them on YouTube, but this version is nice.

Here's how they so beautifully sum up the fear of losing that feeling of home:

Will there come a time when the memories fade
And pass on with the long, long years?
When the ties no longer bind
Lord save me from this darkest fear
Don't let me come home a stranger
I couldn't stand to be a stranger

"Trouble with a Capital T that rhymes..." Music Man

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LI_Oe-jtgdI



For over a year Debbie has been telling me "this is a major fucking disaster. There is nowhere to hide." For the first nine months I listened and tried to make the arguments about why things weren't really that bad.

Fannie Mae was really not in as bad of shape as it seemed. It couldn't be...

The securities has massive collateral and rating agencies and conservative default assumptions

The companies were not THAT stupid

There couldn't be THAT many people who would go along with the "wink wink, nod nod" of stated income loans

Merrill? No
WAMU? - No freaking way - they were the most respected thrift out there in the 1990s
AIG? - conservative, money printing machine
Chevy Chase Bank? Known for cautious, non-innovative approach

But i was wrong. Let me say it loud and not so proud - I was wrong.

There is no place to hide. People in the financial services world LOST THEIR FREAKING MINDS.

And so many ignorant people (and i mean that in the true definition of the word not pejoratively) just assumed that all those really smart Ivy League, mostly white male Masters of the Universe know what they were doing. Did anyone read Liar's Poker? Those guys were amateurs. This is Liar's Poker on Barry Bonds' level of steroids. And then some.

But they LOST THEIR FREAKING MINDS. Greenwich CT is next - mark my words - there will be a story on 60 Minutes in the next six months about "what used to be" in Greenwich CT.

Usually I like to be right. This time I am sure, and sad, that Debbie was right.

That's Right You're Not From Texas - Lyle Lovett

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMhaehb5AnE


Lyle Lovett apparently wrote this song in the midst of his short-lived relationship with Julia Roberts. My evidence for this is the following lines in the song:

See I was born and raised in Texas
And it means so much to me
Though my girl comes from down in Georgia
We were up in Tennessee

We all know Julia is from Smyrna, Georgia, right? The album Road from Ensenada was released in 1996 -- it is widely thought to include songs about the remnants of their 1993-1995 marriage.

After the chorus he sings:
Oh the road it looked so lovely
As she stood there on the side
And she grew smaller in my mirror
As I watched her wave goodbye

Bye bye Lyle, with the big hair, and the crooked face and the quirky music.

Got me thinking, on this Oscar weekend, about other strange and doomed famous couples. Here are some I came up with:
Drew Barrymore and Tom Green
Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller
Mike Tyson and Monica Turner
and of course
Michael Jackson and anyone

And then, lo and behold, I found that there is actually a little online game on iVillage for people who really are into this.

Anyone got favorites to throw out?

PurpleGate Theme Song? Nothing Fits

I have been trying to find a song that best describes my feelings about my inauguration day experience and it's been a struggle. None really has the right combination of name, lyrics, and vibe. Here are a few I have considered:

Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking for? - Clearly a good song, with some potential...but too monotonous in its cadence. When I got off the metro at 7:30am and walked toward the big sign that said Purple Gate, I was hopeful and excited. I had just called Debbie to say, essentially, "I'm here and no problem." And while I was stuck in the triangle of people up against the security fence just ~50 feet from the "gate," the energy was much more kinetic than this song implies.

Purple Rain? The angst in this song most definitely captures the heart wrenching feeling I felt as the minutes ticked away and my progress in the "line" did not keep pace with passing time. For instance, from 9 - 10 am I moved about 15 feet. Prince's great song is so dramatic and dense that I think it would be apropos if I had been in the actual Purple Tunnel of Doom.

Outside Looking In by Mary Chapin Carpenter? Certainly felt this way as I was pressed up against the security fence watching purple ticket holders trickle in...and as TSA types stood around most of the first two hours waiting for people to approach the magnetrons. People around me talked to the police officers on the other side of the fence multiple times. They kept telling us to be patient and that they had informed people "outside" that the lines were not moving...

Frustrated by the Knack? 10:40 My skin is crawling from feeling trapped and feeling like I was doing nothing to increase the possibility of getting in. The driving beat of this song mirrors the beating of my heart as I decided to bolt from the area where I was trapped and try to make my way around to the "top" of the gate - where, rumor had it, you could "just walk in." Was I going to be a cheater but one who saw history in person? I got up there and it was no better. Baby steps too slow.

The Clash's Should I Stay or Should I Go? This is what I started to feel about 11:00. Panic. Because of the parade route along Pennsylvania Avenue, there was no way I was going to make it to the "cheap seats" on the mall in time...I consulted my map and determined that I'd have to walk 20 blocks, then fight to get into the mall. Should I wait and pray the gate miraculously opened up to a wider flow of people? Go to a bar and watch on TV? Or should I run, on my healing vertebrae, to the Metro and pray for an immediate train, perfect ride, and Debbie's willingness to come get me moments before the historic oath was administered...

Which brings me back to so many good songs with "waiting" in their title - The Waiting (is the hardest part) by Tom Petty? What you Waiting For by Gwen Stefani? And the most relevant title, and therefore winner if there had been: Bob Marley's classic Waiting In Vain. While, like many of the not-quite-right songs, it's about unrequited love, these lyrics bring back the feeling I had that morning better than any:

Tears in my eyes burn - tears in my eyes burn
While I'm waiting - while I'm waiting for my turn

And then I took the metro home and watched on TV

Cantique de Noel aka O Holy Night sung by Pavarotti

press play and close your eyes:

The music was written by Adolphe Charles Adam (1803-1856), a French composer best known for his ballet "Giselle." The lyrics were written by Placide Cappeau de Roquemaure in 1847. At the time, it was frowned upon by church authorities who denounced it for lack of musical taste and "total absence of the spirit of religion." I like the last verse:

Truly He taught us to love one another;

His law is love and His gospel is peace.

Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother;

And in His name all oppression shall cease.

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

Let all within us praise His holy name.

Merry Christmas.

Cuts Like a Knife - Bryan Adams

Press play:

Cuts Like A Knife....

For my surgeon, I'm sure my procedure was very routine. Compared to other operations he did Tuesday, my ACDF (anterior cervical discectomy with fusion) was like an electrician fixing two sockets that were shorting, not like replacing the wiring in a whole house. But for the patient, it was a fairly big deal. Waiting, draw blood, EKG, waiting, gown and silly socks, waiting, IV, waiting, answering the same questions over and over. They must have asked me 7 times, "what are you having done today?" in order to make sure they didn't take out my spleen or amputate my leg or something. By the time the surgeon and the anesthesiologist came to see me I had it down, "ACDF, through the neck, C5-C6 & C6-C7, take out the disks, put in a cage full of cadaver bones and my marrow (from my hip), put a plate across the vertebrae, and we're out." Then the doctor wrote on the left side of my neck and off they took me. On the right is an xray (not mine) of what it looks like now.

It got me thinking a lot about how amazing it is that people had surgery 100+ years ago, and lived, much less were "cured." Battlefields, disgusting facilities, etc. Even 60 years ago, when my grandparents had back surgery, they were in full body casts for three months. And I was sending notes from my BlackBerry within 48 hrs.

And then I realized that for most people in the world, the medical standards of 1950's America would be a significant improvement. It makes the projects we have on the GlobalGiving site focused on safe health treatment even more resonant for me. Our health care system may suck by some standards, but I tell you what, we've got it pretty damn good.

And it sure was nice to get to pick the music I listened to off the doctor's Ipod in the operating room. Bruce Springsteen, Badlands, was playing as I drifted off. I asked for the "The Rising" but they thought that was too grim.

Naive Melody, aka "Home" - Talking Heads

Press Play:

I just finished the last of several short trips taken during the last couple of months. Destinations included Northern California, Chicago, Cleveland, New York, Indianapolis and, most recently, London England. I returned from London a couple of days ago having royally messed up my neck. The last two days have been aided by Vicodin. Is this what House takes? Hard to imagine how he can pop two of these (he's always popping two pills at a time) and do his life-saving work.

But I digress from the title/point of this post. Do I? Does it have a point? Home. I have noticed that often when I am away, I have a strange anxiety...is it to be "home?" And what is home? Sometimes I consider California home. Sometimes Maryland/DC. Sometimes being with Debbie, or being with Meredith & gang, or being with the birth family. Sometimes it's just a sense of being that is independent from other people. And of course at Fannie Mae we were "showing America a new way home." Did we mean it literally? Hmm.

Songwriters have written about "home" forever, often metaphorically:

Michael Buble: Another winter day has come and gone away, in even paris and rome, and I wanna go home
Daughtry: I don't regret this life I chose for me, But these places and these faces are getting old, So I'm going home.
Jack Johnson: I try to understand, what I can't hold in my hand, and where ever we are, home is there too
Bonnie Raitt: And Home, Sings me of sweet things, My life there has it's own wings
To fly over the mountains, Though I'm standing still
Talking Heads: Home, is where I want to be, but I guess I'm already there.

So this bodes the question...is home a place or a state of mind? Yes, I say, yes!

Thoughts?

YES WE CAN

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsV2O4fCgjk

Start Me Up - Do you have as much energy as Mick?

Start Me Up - Rolling Stones



I was chatting with my mom yesterday. She's been calling a lot to check on my "condition." This has to do with a herniated disc I am dealing with at the moment. During the conversation we got to talking about the amount of energy it takes to live life...and how some people have an abundance of it, while others need periodic (daily, or vacation-y) rejuvenation periods. And yet others have an abundance of energy even in the face of adversity and, let's face it, age.

I was reminded of this conversation this morning when my alarm went off at 6:30 am and the thought crossed my mind that maybe I wouldn't get up, shower and get on the metro. But I was determined to go root on my Women's Foundation friends who were running the Marine Corps 10k. (I was supposed to be running too, but did I mention I have a ruptured disc? )

Granted Lisa and Julie are 14 and 22 years younger than I am, but it still is impressive for anyone to get up before dawn on a weekend and plod the 6.3 or 26 miles that 20,000 people ran, jogged, walked, and cranked today. Cranked? Yep, cranked. The most amazing thing about going to a race like this is seeing all the people who not only have the energy, but the fight, to get up before the crack of dawn, strap on their prosthetic leg or have their buddies lower them into their wheelchair or "hand-crank" bike, and go for it.

As I stood waiting to wave my little sign for Lisa and Julie I watched the winner of the wheelchair category power by...

And then a guy with a titanium leg, from the knee down, cruised by - ahead of both my friends.

Those guys have energy. And fight. Here's to them.

Gimme Some Truth - Jakob Dylan (for John McCain)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZbzRyd3Q3o

I do not profess to be a hero, and I do respect the men and women who choose to serve our country and put themselves in harms way.

BUT my frustration over John McCain's abuse of his military record is boiling over into downright anger. How many times did we hear during the Republican Convention that he was a "war hero?" How many times did we hear the story of his capture, torture, bravery, etc? How many times will Sarah Palin say, "he's the only person running for president who truly knows what it means to sacrifice for our country?" And how many GD times have we heard - and will we hear - "Country First."

What a load of crap. Please, read this Rolling Stone story that sheds light on the true military record and experience of John McCain. It's more the story of a mean, bratty Seth Rogen in a uniform than Tom Cruise in TopGun.

Who's Your Partridge Family? - "I Think I Love You"

Press Play and enjoy:


On Friday night my friend Lisa went to see New Kids on the Block. I can't even tell you one song by "New Kids" but Lisa, I'm sure, sang along to every song as if it were 1992...16 years ago. Lisa is 30 years old. When I asked her who was at the concert she said, "pretty much a bunch of 30 year old women."

So it got me thinking about my early musical immersion and what inspired the same level of enthusiasm for me when I was coming of age. And while there were a lot of choices from my early teens, it was definitely at an earlier age that I first became obsessed with a band. It was The Partridge Family, whose TV show I never missed, that filled that role for me when I was 8-12 years old.

I wanted desperately to be Laurie Partridge. OK, let's be honest. I had a wicked crush on Susan Dey, who played Laurie Partridge...but I didn't know that then. I played the back of the couch (aka piano) while my friends air-banded their roles as Keith, Danny, Shirley and the rest of the gang.

The Partridge Family is broadly mocked these days, but the truth is that they had some very highly regarded songwriters and musicians working with them. Shirley Jones, for god's sake, is an icon. And now we all know that Danny Bonaduce was destined for infamy.

To this day, I believe I could sing every song they recorded. Just like Lisa can sing all those New Kid songs.

What's your Partridge Family?

ps: have you noticed how the GlobalGiving birds are like the PF ones?

The Weight - The Band

Press Play;

The weight.mp3

Take a load off Fannie, take a load for free;
Take a load off Fannie, And (and) (and) put the load right on me.

Got up late this morning and walked into the bathroom. Thought it was weird that Debbie had the radio on at 9am on a Saturday morning. First thing she says to me is, "they took them over." I don't have a clue what she is talking about and look at her quizzically. "THEY TOOK THEM OVER." And then I know what she means. It was expected, but still I held out hope. Our former employer is about to become a true government entity. Sigh.

I feel very melancholy about this. It's hard to believe it's been 8 1/2 years since I walked out the doors of 4000 Wisconsin Avenue, and away from a 14 year chapter. The thickest chapter of my adult life so far, for sure. Fannie Mae was the place I grew older and up, the place where I met some of my closet friends and my real life partner. It was the place where I learned not to be constrained by what Jim Collins calls the "tyranny of the or" - mission and markets are compatible...indeed mutually reinforcing. It was at once a dynamic, frustrating, progressive, hierarchical, generous place that I came to love and loved me back.

Fannie and Freddie were a grand experiment - not quite fish, not quite fowl. Two entities developed to serve America's homebuyers while also enriching shareholders and employees. And now - for reasons that have been, and will be, discussed and gotten only partly right by the media - the grand experiment is over. Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac will become, for all intents and purposes, fowl. Not fish. In my mind, fish swim relatively freely in oceans and streams, they run the risk of getting eaten by the larger guys, picked at by the smaller guys, and caught by the fisherman. Fowl these days tend to live in a small yard or coop, get fed only when someone feeds them, lay a few eggs now and then, are constrained from flight, and their future is always dependent upon the benevolence of their "owner." Yes, the experiment went a-fowl.

And then there is the issue of the people who were counting on some form of Fannie Mae stock for their retirement or next chapter. ESOP? Nope. Stock options? Nope. Loyal shareholders who hoped Paulson's bazooka strategy would work? Not so much. And there are a million questions about pensions, retirees' benefits, and myriad other issues that are real to real people.

It's just so sad and disappointing. Pride, arrogance, a feeling of invincibility. They'll kill ya. And they did. Kinda like learning about John Edwards' dalliances, but worse. So much promise and historically so much value provided and created. As Robert Frost wrote, "nothing gold can stay."

Joking - Indigo Girls (for john mccain)

You were only joking, brother

With all due respect to Sarah Palin, who has made history and who clearly is a talented, accomplished woman, like so many women I know...here are some facebook and twitter status updates of people I know after the announcement:

newsflash: 24 years later, Republican Party follows suit (white male, D)

yes she is exactly who you need and who this country needs (white female, former HRC supporter)

is liking abc.com's comment, "Brilliant Pick or Dan Quayle in a Dress?" (white male, not sure)

Sarah Palin may be a woman...but she is still a gun-toting pro-lifer (white female, D)

is incensed and insulted, as all women should be (30yr old white female, D)

thinks Sarah Palin looks like Tina Fey (white male, not sure)

is wondering what kind of president Obama will be. (white male, R lobbyist)

now realizes that the universe wants Obama to lead the U.S. For reals, not just in the dream land in my head. (white female, D I think)

isn't sure what more to say to his daughter who, upon hearing John McCain's choice for VP, shouted "Is he on crack!" So far, I've said "no." (same R from above)

The Galway Girl - Steve Earle

Watched a really horrible movie last night - PS - I Love You. The absolute best thing about the movie was this song, which we heard twice - in both cases sung by "Irishmen." Totally the best part of the movie.

It isn't the first time I've watched a really bad movie and come away thinking, "well, at least there was that song in it." So, here are a few other examples:

5. We Don't Need Another Hero - Tina Turner from MadMax Beyond the Thunderdome. I barely made it through that movie. Tina, on the other hand, belted out a great one.

4. I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston - from The Bodyguard. OK, so this movie wasn't a total zero, but pretty freakin' cheesy fare. This may be the best demonstration of the pipes that Whitney had pre- "crack is whack."

3. Kiss from a Rose - Seal - from Batman Forever. Val Kilmer? What a disappointment.

2. You Got It - Whoopi & Mary Louise Parker - From Boys on the Side. First, it's against lesbian law to say this movie sucked, but, um, it was not so good. This scene, however tear-jerky, was a killer, and the soulfulness with which thew Whoopster sings is breathtaking. And then the movie ends with Bonnie Raitt doing her version of this great Roy Orbison song.

and...my personal favorite example from a recent movie

1. Mr. Brightside - The Killers, as butchered by a Cameron Diaz sing-a-long in the awful movie, The Holiday. This seemed to have promise - Cameron Diaz (that smile), Jude Law (those eyes), Kate Winslet (that accent), and Jack Black (that humor). UGH.

Of the four of you who actually read this blog, got any to add?

Daughters - John Mayer

PRESS PLAY:

John Mayer - Daugh...

"So Mothers be good to your daughters too..."

This morning I read a blog post that I can't get our of my brain, and the refrain of John Mayer's song is the background track. While the song is more about fathers and daughters, there is that cautionary reminder in the final line of the chorus.

The blog post was written by a lovely woman I met at a conference a month or so ago, and since then I have been reading her blog. She is not a "super blogger" in the sense of Dooce or her peers, and maybe because of that - and the fact that we seem on first blush to have a fair amount in common - I like reading her posts. I'm not linking to the post I refer to, because I don't in any way want the author to think that I am judging or criticizing her, and while they say that once you put shit out there in the blogosphere it's public domain, it just doesn't feel right.

But here's the gist of the post: Explanation of why distance had been created by blogger and her mom - values, lack of interest in her kids, her life, disappointment. Young daughter asking mom, "why don't we ever see our other grandma? " Mom trying graciously to explain history, hurt and distance in a way that doesn't justify, but is honest. Next line:

My mother died tonight. I'll never get a chance to try to bridge the chasm between us. But I also know in my heart that it was unlikely that the attempt would have made a difference.

That kicked my ass. Wasn't expecting it really. Got me thinking.

The relationship between mothers and daughters is so very complex. I think about the little microcosm here in our house. My relationship with my mom is quite good. She lives a country away, but we email ongoingly, talk every other weekend, share a lot of core beliefs, values, and foibles. Not perfect, and I have disappointments, as I'm sure she does, but we are lucky.

Debbie's relationship with her mom is very good now, but that wasn't always the case. Now they talk daily - mostly because of her Dad's cancer treatment. I have watched Debbie work hard to bridge the differences and hurts and to forgive, if not forget. That is awfully hard to do and I admire her for it. But I also totally get that it is not the best or healthiest path for everyone.

Debbie and Carly's relationship is more of the "modern" type - they laugh, they fight, they make fun of people together. They like the same kind of music (mostly), we know a whole lot about her friends, boys, fears, and accomplishments. As time has gone on, they even play beer pong together. If I had a dollar for every time Carly said, "Mom, you are going to be in the room with me when I give birth," I could buy a bottle of Grey Goose.

I have two goddaughters, and they have two mothers. That presents twice as much opportunity for warmth, support, fun and unconditional love. And of course, 2x as much opportunity for disappointment, and the other yucky stuff. I have confidence the former will be the case, but of course time will tell.

Several of my friends have had girls - ranging in age from 10 to two months. These mothers are 21st century - open, empowered, strong and spectacular (in my humble opinion) , just as i suspect my new blogger friend is. They have the chance to get it "more right." I know they will.