Showing posts with label Bookshelf. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bookshelf. Show all posts

Friday, March 21, 2008

Profoundly Simple

I have been reading The Measure of a Man: A Spiritual Autobiography by Sidney Poitier and I like it.  A lot.  And not because Oprah says I should.  I like it because when the curtain of celebrity is pulled aside, Poitier is a simple man, not without his faults, who has a very basic philosophy of life that appeals to some latent, bucolic urge within me.  After only a few minutes of reading, I came upon this passage:

In the kind of place I where I grew up, what's coming at you is the sound of the sea and the smell of the wind and your mama's voice and the voice of your dad and the craziness of your brothers and sisters - and that's it.    

that has had me dreaming ever since of an idyllic island life replete with surf, sand, and family.  

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Panserbjørne

Oh, how I wish I had read His Dark Materials instead of Harry Potter because Robert Pullman is a more adept weaver of fantasy than J.K. Rowling ever will be and, if I had already read the series, I could go see the movie (we have a quirky read-it-before-you-see-it household rule). I did finish The Golden Compass (the first book of the series) this weekend, but now I must wait for Lizzie and Madhubby to read it.

I just loved the book, though, because Pullman's writing isn't adolescent and replete with stupid, annoying characters who have silly names. Pullman's prose is rich and textured; it engages the senses. He isn't afraid to explore the range of human emotion and he isn't afraid to expose children to it either. Deception, death, redemption, loyalty, fear and sorrow are all part and parcel of The Golden Compass. And then, there are the Panserbjørne. They are the best fantasy character I've ever encountered and they alone are reason enough to run to your nearest theater and see this movie. Oh, but, first, read the book!

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Harry Potter Spoiler

This website claims a hacker, who uses their listserv, has posted spoilers from the yet unreleased Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, thus rendering a read of the book "useless and boring." Hmph, I already thought that about the HP series.

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Hive Minded

I own Queen Bees and Wannabes, so naturally I was intrigued by Rosalind Wiseman's sophomoric effort, Queen Bee Moms & Kingpin Dads. I've only read through the first few chapters and I've got to tell ya - it's all a load of crap. Well, mostly. Anyone who thought adulthood meant the shedding of awkward adolescence labels and behavior needs to take off the rose colored glasses right now and venture outside of their glass house.

Wiseman's "Perfect Parent" continuum is really just a conglomeration of everyday adjectives packaged in fancy self-help speak. The usual stereotypes are all there: thin, pretty, athletic, moneyed. Ok, fine. I think my six year-old could have created this list. It's not rocket science. Wiseman's "breakthrough" is actually a lot like the science fair experiment where children indicate whether they prefer the white, blue-eyed doll with blonde hair or the black, brown-eyed doll with nappy chemically straightened hair. Nappy head, just like overweight, unkempt mom loses every time.

I liked the parent profiles and their cleverly labeled subtypes (Ann Taylor Anthology and Home Depot Demographics) but overall I found them too confining. What about the mom who works from home, who gets along fairly well with the other playground moms, but who sometimes misses a classroom party because she'd rather go to the gym alone for the first time in months?* Where is the profile for that mom, Ms. Wiseman?

Up next: Wiseman's take on youth sports and the crazies who coach and watch from the sidelines.

*After conferring with Madhubby, I was told I am a "Starbucks & Sympathy/Banker Mom." I don't normally gossip, but you'll never believe who I saw buying a pregnancy test today...

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Thursday, June 8, 2006

The Death Spiral

This book scares the living shit outta me. It is no joke. All I can say is thank goodness we have insurance. The bad news is that Madhubby will have to continue working for his soulless corporation until they pry his cold, dead fingers from his mouse so that we can continue to be insured.

The book introduces a frightening concept called the death spiral. The authors of the book predict that once a person has a catastrophic event leading to the loss of medical coverage, whether it be a job loss or divorce, that person enters a death spiral and continued absence of medical coverage hastens their descent towards death. It is a very grim prognosis but it goes something like this:

Helen is a happily married to Bob for twenty-five years. During their entire marriage, Heln is covered by Bob's employer's medical insurance. Then, Bob divorces Helen and she is no longer covered by the group medical insurance and she cannot afford to purchase her own policy. Shortly after the divorce, Helen finds a lump in her breast and goes to her regular doctor. Except her doctor won't see her now until she pays his fee upfront. She pays his fee and he refers her to an oncologist who also won't see her unless she pays his fee beforehand, since she has no insurance. The oncologist recommends surgery, which Helen can't afford because she's spent all her money seeing her regular doctor and the oncologist. Helen's breast cancer advances and she dies within two years.

Like I said, pretty grim. Millions of Americans are uninsured and there are lots of Helens out there who never get the care they need and who are, at this very minute, making a rapid descent through the death spiral. The irony of it all is that hospitals are obligated to care for the terminally ill. So, uninsured people like Helen can die in a hospital even though the hospital previously refused them treatment. This system seems woefully flawed for a country that considers itself one of the most developed in the world.

If our government can subsizide multiple wars on foreign soil that cost taxpayers trillions of dollars, then one would think they could divert a few billion dollars towards health care reform. The president's position is that the people of Iraq should have the freedom of choice. Do Americans deserve less? Shouldn't we have the freedom to see any doctor or go to any hospital we would like regardless of whether we are insured. This administration, that campaigns so fiercely for freedom on behalf of the Iraqis, has no opinion.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Perfect Madness

I am currently reading a hot button of a book, Perfect Madness. This post is not a book review or a summary or even a laymans try at critiquing the book. It's a post about my feelings on the subject matter in general, which boils down to this: moms in America are over-parenting control freaks.

There has already been so much written about this book (you can read all 69 editorial comments at the above link, if you so choose) that anything I would have to say would be redundant. However, I must say....A lot of what Warner writes is absolutely fucking true and any mom who says that she loves being at home just as much or even more than she loved working hard at her career is either lying to herself and everyone around her or she is crazy religious a la Angela Yates. I love my children. I think 99% of moms do (people who dump their babies in public restrooms/dumpsters excluded) but I hate being at home with them all day long because THEY CONSUME MY LIFE. And, I think it's this overwhelming, blood-sucking feeling that is at the heart of Warner's book.

There are those people who consider SAHM's "lucky" and we are but not for the reasons people think. We can go to the gym during off-times. We can grocery shop with leisure and enjoy our tea in the middle of the afternoon. But, we are also expected, whether implicitly or not, to keep a clean house, clean kids and at least know what is being served for dinner that evening. We are also responsible for scheduling ALL the appointments for everyone in the family including our husbands and the family cat. Life would be a bowl of cherries if we could just go to Yoga class, drink tea and fuck our husbands. But, the keeping and caring of a household on a daily basis requires more energy than one person has unless you're on meth, which apparently some mothers are.

But, I digress. I think parents need a break from their children on a regular basis. Otherwise, how are children ever going to become their own people? Kids who spend every minute with mom or dad become a carbon copy of them. That's kinda scary, yet I see it at my daughter's school. Every other parent is a scientist who thinks they are raising the next Einstein or Marie Antoinette. These parents freak out if their children want to play rather than map the constellations. The contingency of mothers about whom Warner writes are the other parents in our school! They've ratcheted down their high-powered career but have turned all that excess energy and ambition onto their (usually) only child. Boy, do I feel for these kids because once they leave the fold of our little republic, they are going to have some serious problems maintaining any sort of relationship because all they've ever known is school-school-school. And, there is so much more to being a kid than fucking school! But, that's the uber-parent for you. Can't let little Johnny or Susie go to the park because they might meet the "wrong" sort of kid and discover fun. No! Gotta keep them locked in their rooms researching the cure for cancer.

Which brings me back to the book. It is not a self-help book. There are no twelve steps to perform that will prevent or cure uber-parenting. Instead, it's a commentary on the state of modern parenting that leaves one to draw their own conclusions. I conclude that I need lots and lots of Prozac.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Friends Who Got Away

I'm reading a great book (actually it's a collection of short stories) about women friendships and how they all seem to just...implode, dissolve or just end. The amazing thing is that I thought this only happened to ME but this book made me realize their are a whole lot of bitches out there who dump friends without warning.

There was the girlfriend in Oklahoma who was my kindred spirit who enjoyed the same things I did and we both had babies born within a day of each other. I moved out of state and she stopped returning my calls. Or the new friend I met who took me clubbing and had an incredibly sharp wit. She met someone and stopped returning my calls (nevermind that I was in a relationship, too, but found time to call HER). Or the friend from high school who moved to my town...and then moved away without leaving me a forwarding address or phone number.

Who knows what happens? I do know that I was always a friend to each of them but I couldn't keep them as my friends. I was always the one who made 'just one last' phone call to them...three years after the friendship is over. I just can't let go. I remember them all. And you know what? It fucking sucks.