writewrite

I am at a conference with three students, all about half my age, or, well, thirty years younger than I am. Even as I write that, I think: Could this be possible? I’m old enough to be their mother? In some circles, their grandmother? Oh my. I don’t think of myself as middle-aged. I don’t walk around thinking: yep, I’m fifty, how about that, halfway to dead already. I do walk around thinking, I feel pretty good. I feel energetic — mostly — smart (sort of) — and if I do the Tyra Banks walk? Well, yes indeed I can still turn heads. Never mind that the heads belong to other 50 somethings. Just never mind that.

But this week? I feel old. My students have a lot more energy than I do. Granted, their energy peaks about 9 pm when mine is going into jammy mode. And in the morning, they are sleepyheads while I’m ready to run around and do things. But they seem to have an ability to get by on less sleep, intermittent food (and lots of it), combined with constant motion and activity and conversation.

About now, I’m ready for a day of nothing but a couple of books, silence, some good coffee, and sheer quiet. And, I must admit, a diet. When you’re fifty, don’t try to eat like twenty-somethings. You’ll wear the meals for a long time.

Today, my dad turns 85. He’s celebrating his birthday far from where I am at the moment, and I imagine he is having a wonderful time. My brother posted a poem for Dad’s birthday; Dan’s post is an interesting read.

For my Dad’s birthday, I found myself humming a Muppets song, the one Robin the frog sings in celebration of being 5. (It starts at 3:48 on the video.)

If you just substitute 85 for 5, it kind of works. So, today, I am going to sing this song in celebration of my dad being 85. He’s a great 85, and I can only hope I am just as great when I’m 85 myself.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Is there a way to take away this kid’s driving privileges? For life? For the sake of the horse that died, and those in the future that might meet the same fate, let’s hope so.

And while we’re at it — being grumpy about things that look neato on the surface that is — let’s also say quite clearly: the Amish may look charming and benevolent from a distance, as their teams of draft mules or horses work in the field (just like a postcard, OOH, take a picture) but have you bothered to look up close? Glance at those horseshoes next time you’re close to an Amish pony. Do they look like they fit? I’ll go with you next time, and show you how they probably don’t. Watch how the horse stands waiting in the sun, or the rain, or the snow, while his (or her) driver is indoors. Does the horse have water? Shade? Shelter? Hm. Well. Probably not.

And, well, try not to wince as you watch one of those horses — pulling a buggy full of kids — race down a hardtop road in the summer on a hot Sunday afternoon. Sure. It’s fun, I bet. For the kids. Just like driving around Mom or Dad’s sedan on a Sunday afternoon is fun. But Mom or Dad’s sedan doesn’t ever have to get euthanized.

Okay. I’ll stop now. But please: don’t perpetuate any myths any tourism bureau anywhere tries to sell. Not about the Amish, or any other group of “quaint” folks.

I was stopped and saddened by a short, almost throwaway, story in today’s local newspaper. And no — this time, it’s not the writing that made me wince. It’s this:

A scared, but savvy 7-year-old Richmond girl called 911 early Thursday to report she and two younger children were left home alone.

An hour later, Heather Clark, 23, of 805 N. W. Fifth St., was arrested after arriving while police and Child Protective Services officers were present. Clark has been charged with three counts of neglect of a dependent, all Class D felonies. She was lodged in Wayne County, where she remained Thursday night. Her surety bond is set at $5,000.

“She said they (children) were left with another lady,” said Lt. Brad Berner of the Richmond Police Department, citing the incident report.

The girl was awakened around 5 a.m. by a crying younger sister. The 7-year-old first called her grandparents in Florida.

“She did a real good job (of calling for help),” Berner said. “That’s got to be a scary situation.” Berner said he wasn’t aware of any similar situations with the mother. Police also found marijuana in the house. Clark has been charged with possession of marijuana, a Class A misdemeanor.

The young woman who is the mother is twenty-three. Her eldest of three children is seven years old; this means she became a mother at sixteen. A sixteen-year-old girl is a child. I realize most sixteen-year-olds don’t think so, but here’s the reality, kids: at sixteen you can’t vote, you can’t legally drink or smoke, you have barely earned the right to drive and to work full-time. If you have a child at the age of sixteen, you are in the eyes of the world, and in reality, a child with a child. And how do you think the rest of your life will go after this?
(more…)

In the current issue of the New Yorker, there is an interesting article about Obama’s Chief of Staff, Rahm Emanuel. Apparently, when approached by Obama for the position, Emanuel was — at least at first — not interested. He had other aspirations.

Emanuel did not want the job. A few months before Election Day, Obama sent him an e-mail, with a warning: “Heads up, I’m coming for you.” Emanuel was a key negotiator in moving the TARP legislation through Congress, in October. After the bill cleared Congress, Obama, who supported it, sent Emanuel another e-mail. “I told you we made a great team,” he said. Emanuel wrote back, “I look forward to being your floor leader in the House.”

That may have been the end of the story. However, a brother comes into play…read on:

While Obama was wooing Rahm, Rahm’s older brother, Ezekiel, an oncologist and a bioethicist, served as a sounding board. “I probably spent half an hour every day being screamed at on the telephone by him,” he said. “ ‘I don’t want to do this. Why do I have to do this? Tell me I don’t have to do this.’ All of which said to me he knew he had to do it.”

Interesting…