Getting bent out of shape for the wrong reasons

Plymouth, Minnesota is a large, financially well-off suburb of the Twin Cities. In fact, it was named Money magazine's #1 place to live in 2008.

In this idylic corner of America a problem is brewing. People are angry. The city hall's phone system has been overloaded. What is the crisis?

The city might change their recycling vendor!

That's right. While we are at war and the economy tanks and civil liberties are but a memory and our schools are falling apart and in Minnesota frickin bridges are falling apart and gas is expensive and we're having a bad mosquito year, this is what the good citizens of Plymouth have chosen to get enraged about.

Why, you ask? Two reasons. Citizens are going to be asked to separate their recyclables by the new vendor. (The old vendor asked recyclables to be separated but evidently didn't do anything about it when people shoved their office paper, empty beer cans, and peanut butter jars all together.) And, due to rising fuel costs, the new contract will cost the city nearly 50 cents a month per household!

I mean, my goodness! A community where the median family income is $111,631 is being prayed upon by nasty politicians who want to pry $6 a year out of their hands. I mean, that's a whole 0.005% of their income. A giant five thousanths of a percent! Much is at stake!

For six dollars a family would, um, well...

Well, they might have to do two less visits to Starbucks.

They might have to forego a popcorn at least once a year when they go to the movies.

They might have to say no for once to one of their children's request for a crappy plastic toy at Target.

They might have to stop playing the slots at the Grand Casino Mille Lacs fifteen minutes earlier than they otherwise would have.

Instead, the government will take $6 of their hard earned money for that dirty word: recycling.

Over thirty seven years ago President Kennedy told the nation: "And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can do for your country. My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man."

Obviously no one ever made JFK sort his recycling. The line has to be drawn somewhere.

The Cat Came Back

My cat likes sleeping on the bed at night. This wouldn't be a big deal ecept that over the years she has become a "more aggressive cuddler." I like cats. I just don't want a cat anywhere near my face when I sleep. She tries to actually sleep on my head. Nothing I do can dissuade her. So now she's being locked out at night, but still finds ways to sneak in when she can.

Shady politics: Al Franken

Norm Coleman and the Republicans have been blasting Al Franken with negative ads.

Al Franken hasn't been shy about returning the fire. His latest ad:



The first part is a response to this Coleman ad attacking Franken for his tax and accounting troubles. Franken is smart to respond to these charges and not ignoring them. Ethical concerns are taken very seriously by voters. Is this an effective response? If the best you can say is, "It was an honest mistake," you're making a pretty weak case. Fair or not, phrases voters generally don't like to hear from politicians include, "it was an honest mistake."

Moving from defense mode to attack mode within the same ad is probably a good strategic move, especially when it is also on the issue of ethics. Senator Coleman lives in a mansion in DC practically given to him for a mere $600/month by his lobbyist-related friend? That sounds pretty bad.

At best, though, Franken is playing loose with the facts. While there are legitimate ethics issues with Coleman's rental arrangement that was first revealed by the National Journal in June, it isn't to the scale Franken describes. Coleman is living in a small basement studio apartment for $600. It's been a few years since I lived on Capitol Hill, but I remember lots of what are referred to as "English Basements" in the row houses on Capitol Hill. Usually they went for at least $900/month then. But living in a $600 basement apartment is a bit different from an entire "mansion."

I'm no fan of Norm Coleman. He's a slimy, unprincipled, political opportunist without a single ounce of integrity. Alas, Al Franken appears to be stooping to his level.

In fairness, here's another of Coleman's prominent nasty ads that's been covering the Minnesota airwaves for the last two weeks.

John McCain: One term pledge?

Over the past week rumors have resurfaced on whether John McCain is secretly planning or will publicly acknowledge a one term commitment. Operating under the assumption that the rumors are from the McCain campaign the logical question is whether this is for real or another attempt to grab attention like when they played Robert Novak for a fool regarding an imminent running mate announcement. I suspect this is for real and not a cynical ploy, because this is a dicey issue with which the McCain campaign will not want to screw around.

Earlier this year when news arose that the McCain considered the idea of a one term pledge, his campaign quickly moved to deny and downplay it as never a serious discussion. McCain himself is quoted as dismissing the idea "because I think then you’re the lame duck, you’re quacking on Inauguration Day."

Making a one term promise or even implying it is under consideration would be a bold move that would have an impact on voters' decision making. The McCain people wouldn't want these rumors to float out there unless they were really committed to it because it would lead to questions on McCain's own views on his fitness for the office and whether he was being honest with the American people. McCain's campaign manager Rick Davis responded to the question this last week with a "you're going to have to come to the Republican convention" and declined to discuss the matter further.

The thinking behind a one term pledge for McCain is that it would minimize ore even eliminate the age issue. It also can be used to portray McCain as a principled reformer who is not in the race for the White House for his own ego--as opposed to Obama. We'd hear arguments such as, "McCain is going to be a nonpartisan reformer who will be above the fray and get things done in four years." Sound familiar? And, "Not having to worry about reelection will mean McCain will have the freedom to be beyond politics and tell it like it is to Congress and the American people."

If this is the line of thinking for John McCain, he is mistaken. Making a one term pledge would not help him with most voters and would show how desperate his campaign is.

On the age issue, a one term pledge does nothing. The vast majority of voters who are concerned about his age aren't going to vote for Obama because they're worried he'll be 76 years old when he runs for a second term. They are going to be concerned that he'll be 76 years old as he finishes his first term. Most voters don't think about the hypothetical second term of the candidates. At least I doubt most swing voters do. The conventional wisdom with a one term pledge will be that it is being made because of John McCain's age, only underscoring that issue rather than sweeping it away.

McCain was of course right that the one term pledge would make him a lame duck on day one. Many voters would realize this. In a day and age where voters truly want someone who can bring effective change, some will figure out that electing a single term Republican to the White House with a Democratic controlled Congress is a recipe for that old fashioned term, gridlock.

The pledge also introduces the question in voters' minds, "Well, why the heck are you running anyways if you're only going to do one term? Don't you want to be president?" This rational question also leads to wondering whether McCain really means a one term pledge or whether it is a cynical and dishonest ploy. Voters have experienced many politicians who have gone back on their term-limits promises. Maybe McCain is just like those other (typical) politicians?

I'm surprised the single term idea is resurfacing. It seems like such a bad idea. Then again, making conventional decisions aren't going to win the race for McCain. In 1996 Bob Dole realized he had to be bold and surprised voters by retiring from the Senate and taking off his tie. McCain probably knows he needs to go a bit further than Bob "Boldman" Dole if he's going to have a chance come November.

Seven years? No itching yet...

Today the missus and I mark our 7th wedding anniversary. It's been quite a ride since we said our vows on a humid August day near the banks of the Potomac.

In the intervening time, we've moved from Washington, DC to Minneapolis, Minnesota. We've had career changes. Upgraded cars. Bought a house. She went to law school and became a lawyer. I briefly ran a nonprofit. And the big change, we squeezed out two darling kids--the oldest now mere weeks from starting kindergarten.

Recent marriage surveys have looked at the "seven year itch," that moment in the marriage where things supposedly get stale and eyes begin to wander. Supposedly, it is more like the "sometime between 1 to 8 year s itch". A major factor identified in marriage failures during this time is the stress associated with having young children. (News alert! Having children is demanding and stressful!)



Last winter while grocery shopping with my one year old, I had the "pleasure" of having a random retired priest quiz me on my family situation so that he could give some unsolicited advice and make nonsensical marriage jokes. His view was that the five year mark was the real hill and it was smoother sailing after that.

Despite his expert views (not) rooted in personal experience and the media portrayal of all the social science research, I know that relationships are always work. Sure, there are ups and downs and periods of adjustment. But you're never going to maintain a healthy relationship by sitting on your ass and paying it no mind.

***

So, seven years ago today we were married. It was to be a beautiful outside ceremony on the banks of the Potomac, just outside of Washington, DC. We woke up that Saturday to a perfect day. Kid cousins went swimming mid-day at the nearby mini-water park. We took pictures before the ceremony. The sun was shining and it was about 80 degrees.

Then the dark clouds rolled in. Within 15 minutes, the wind began slapping trees around. The sky was dark. Instead of 4:00 PM, it looked like it was 9:00 PM. It didn't look good. We were not going to be married outside.

Fortunately, we had a Plan B: Get married at the reception site, which was conveniently located 100 feet away. As the last pictures were snapped, the rain came and we ran to the building.

This is what it looked like that evening in nearby DC. Several metro stations were flooded. A couple people were unable to come to the wedding due to flooded cars.

Picture borrowed from weatherbook.com

According to some superstition, rain on your wedding day is good luck and not, as Alanis Morissette sings, ironic. One couple suggested that we should "buy lottery tickets NOW" under this logic. The downpour continued until about 10:00 PM, but we got married anyways.

On our one month anniversary, we found ourselves fleeing the center of DC on September 11th and returning that evening to our Capitol Hill apartment feeling we were now living in a military state. On our one year anniversary we were making an offer to buy a house in Longfellow neighborhood of friendly Minneapolis. On our second anniversary, the missus was 35 weeks pregnant.

And here we are now. Two kids. In the same house. I can only speak for myself, but no itching yet. We'll look at our wedding pictures this evening and remark how young we look. (We were 22 and 23 for chrissakes!) In many ways, in the seven years we've become an old married couple. We feel like we veterans who know it all. (We also thought we knew at all at the tender age of 23.)

At the same time, it feels like the wedding was just yesterday. It seems just a short time ago that we were getting our rings on a lunch break and the jewelry salesman was telling us in his North African accent about the "low comfort fit" of the ring in question. Whatever that means.

***

Now seven years wiser is there anything I would do differently? For one, I wouldn't have taken the ceremony so seriously. It's not that we didn't have a healthy perspective at the time. We had a relatively informal event. Family and friends stayed in cabins on site. We got married by a Unitarian minister. Our rehearsal dinner was an outside picnic featuring food from a Lebanese deli. (My grandmother in law had humus for the first time!) Our flower centerpieces were constructed by a couple of aunts who were given $120 and sent to the farmer's market. We served a vegan, lemon poppyseed cake that looked nothing like the traditional wedding cake. We were comfortable doing our own thing and not getting hung up on tradition or an unattainable ideal.

But we took the wedding ceremony so seriously. We weren't bothered by the rain too much. It was the words and the symbolism of the ceremony we put our stock in. In the weeks and months before the wedding, we debated extensively whether to have this reading or that reading and what every aspect said about us and our relationship. Really, who is going to remember whether we had a reading from Desmond Tutu or the Dalai Lama? (I barely recall.) I believe the whole ceremony was 40 minutes. If planning one the wedding today, I'd be focused on a ceremony ten minutes tops.

What matters most of all was not the detailed symbolism of every aspect of the ceremony, but the fact that we were committing ourselves to each other and were able to include so many people important to us. Indeed, our commitment to each other wasn't even made at the wedding, but when we got engaged ten months earlier at Lincoln Park on our way back from Blockbuster Video. Or maybe the commitment was made before the official engagement, when we first discussed the possibilities of marriage and children. Or maybe it was when we decided to move to DC together sans jobs two weeks after we graduated from college.

If you would have asked me just two years before August 11, 2001 where I'd be at my current age of 30, married seven years with two kids wouldn't have been my first, second, or even third prediction. I had pictured myself moving around the country, traveling abroad, and going to graduate school throughout my 20s. I'd save my 30s for settling down and having a family, preferably after I was on tenure track at some decent university. Instead, at 30, I've been happily married for seven years and enjoying being an at home dad for two wonderful girls. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Bernie Mac

Comedian Bernie Mac has passed away at the way too early age of 50. We've lost another talented American voice.

I never saw much of Bernie Mac's standup comedy routine and was lukewarm on the bits that I encountered. But I loved the Bernie Mac Show.

***

Last year I was the proud parent of a colicky infant with acid reflux. She didn't sleep all that well, the poor thing. I felt sorry for myself too. For many weeks the way I got her asleep was to hold her in a specific "sling" position in my left arm while bouncing on an exercise ball or standing up. (Sitting down was inconsistent with her fall-asleep needs.)

So to occupy the time, I watched television--every night for hours. And I couldn't watch the news or the late talk shows because I needed closed captioning and the closed captioning is much more accurate on the syndicated sitcoms.

I watched repeats of That 70s Show and Seinfeld and 3rd Rock from the Sun. It was the only way I could keep sane with the loud crying.

Usually she settled down by midnight. I would stay up with her in my arms for another hour to make sure she was really down before transferring her. At 12:00 AM, the Bernie Mac Show came on. It was a very traditional sitcom, but with its own twists. Stand up comedian Bernie Mac plays himself. The premise, he takes in his two nieces and nephew after his sister gets in trouble with drugs yet again. Of course, he is not ready for the responsibility and has his own takes on childrearing--often with funny results. Some of the best moments of the show were when Bernie Mac would directly address the audience from his chair on the crisis of the moment. The show also had the trademark handwritten editorial notes appear on the screen to give some levity in some of the tenser scenes.

Most of the time, Bernie Mac was pretty hilarious, but his show had its share of tearful moments in both touching and sad ways.

This clip has its share of both. It's from the last part of the first episode, after he picks up the kids at LAX and brings them to their new home.



We'll miss you Bernie Mac.

Introducing Sadie...

We got three year old lab-beagle-something else mix, Sadie, in late March from the local Humane Society. She's a great dog. She loves chasing the squirrels and rabbits away from our precious tomatoes. She's deferential, usually listens, and is gentle with kids.

One of her favorite activities is to run around like crazy with us in the backyard.

Blogs of the day: Open Salon edition

I've promised to highlight my favorite blogs over at the newish Open Salon community. There are some fabulous and talented writers there. I urge you to check them out.

• Sandra Miller: She writes stories and personal essays. Miller is probably the most talented writer at Open Salon. A few recent highlights, her musings on holding intelligent (or informed) opinions, the merits of eating alone, a fathers' day personal essay, and a disturbing story about an evil Disneyland plot.

• Arlene Green: She doesn't pull any punches and sounds like an interesting person, confronting old ladies in grocery stores for giving unsolicited advice. She tells us why Rachel Ray would fail at cooking for her family, about how she became the unofficial birth coach for young mothers in her community, and a great piece on teenage sexuality called "Hormones With Feet."

• Pretend Farmer: Living in Arizona entails some adventures apparently. Whether it is providing stark footage of the flash flood that surrounded their home, posting close-up shots of dessert wildlife, or a portrait of her highly litigious neighbor, the Pretend Farmer has something to say every day. She's knitting a vibrator cozy for Sandra Miller, so you know she's no prude.

• neilpaul: An angry defense attorney who writes about the injustices of the criminal justice system. One of his more noteworthy posts is the angry Black versus White post. Did I mention he was angry?

• Chris B: If you want to read about the politics of the day, Chris B is timely. He usually has the lasted campaign ad, snafu, our YouTube tribute posted, be it Ludacris' Obama is here or Paris Hilton's foray into politics.

There are lots of others. Check it out.

Changes are a-happenin'

Frequent readers of this blog (the two of you) may notice some changes. I've changed the title. While I thought "Who Can Say?" was a clever title for a blog, it was kind of confusing. First, I made what is typically implied as a statement into a literal question. Secondly, it's not like the domain was whocansay.com. That domain was unavailable.

So the domain is doubtcreptintohisvoice.com. A bit long for a blog title.

Meanwhile, I have begun blogging over the name Skeptic Turtle at the new online community at Open Salon. I selected that name because I had submitted letters and comments over at Salon.com as "Turtle," but felt I need an adjective to flesh it out.

Maintaining a second blog means I neglected the first. And they are both general interest blogs, so why keep them separate. I'm now Skeptic Turtle in both places and will be cross posting between the two.

So you can read me here or there.

I do recommend checking out Open Salon. Lots of good stuff there which I'll be highlighting shortly.

Driving in Iowa

When the missus and I were newlyweds we visited her grandparents in Iowa. Due to their health problems they had been unable to travel to our wedding in Washington DC and this was my first opportunity to meet them.

After a short and pleasant weekend visit her grandfather pulled out the maps to give me extensive advice on the best navigational choices for the Iowa country roads.

"If you take this route over through Lowden it is pretty strait without a lot of curves."

He carefully drew the route with his fingers.

"But if you go through Oxford Junction, you'll have only 6 stop signs instead of 7 between here and Cedar Rapids."

The retired country vet certainly knew how to navigate his section of Iowa. We gave due consideration to all his options and said our goodbyes.

**************************************************

The drive was perfect. It was a clear, Sunday afternoon in the middle of summer. We got to Cedar Rapids in no time and soon was on a divided highway headed several hours north to Minneapolis.

We were relaxed and making good time, so of course something happened.

BAM!

Whomp whomp whomp whomp whomp whomp whomp whomp whomp...

Flat tire.

We had the good fortune to get the flat about 200 yards from an offramp with a gas station, so the car bumped along to the gas station parking lot.

It's Sunday. We were in the middle of Iowa, no where near even a small town, and we have a flat.

I wasn't excited about to have to change a tire and drive a couple hundred miles on a tiny spare tire in our 1993 Honda Accord. I got out the spare anyways and discover that for some unknown reason, the jack was missing.

It's difficult to change a tire without a jack.

As I kind of just stared at the car puzzling over my options, a man in his late 20s approached with his girlfriend following behind.

"You have a flat?"

"Yeah... And I don't have a jack and only a cruddy spare tire."

The girlfriend chimed in. "We should see if Zack's around."

Apparently their friend Zack was in the tire business. They gave him a call on the spot and he agreed to come in and help us get a new tire. They explained his place of business just happens to be just on the other side of the highway interchange and he'd be there within 15 minutes.

After thanking them, we set off on our flat to the other side of the highway where and found a huge converted barn with piles of hundreds of tires everywhere. The place looked like it's going to fall appart.

Zack eventually arrived. He looked 40ish. He was dirty. He had just met us and was swearing up a storm. But he seemed friendly enough.

I toured the yard with him, looking for a used tire the right size. We're pulling piles apart in the summer heat. He opened up a couple of sheds with more stacks of tires. Eventually we found a contender. Zack "believes" it will work.

He then instructed me to pull the car into the garage/barn. The inside was messier than the outside. A grumpy three legged dog gave us what I interpreted as a "Hello. I'm going to tolerate you, but don't get too close to my master and me or there will be trouble." The dog laid down possessively against the car.

Then things got a little frighting. It was a perfectly beautiful day. The sun was out, but it wasn't glaring inside the barn. Zack closed the garage door behind us. Our eyes had trouble adjusting to the new darkness. We didn't know the way out. Eventually I could see well enough to observe my wife's expression that said, "We're not going to make it to Minnesota today or perhaps even out of this garage."

However, all was fine. Zack proceeded to work on replacing the tire, occasionally swearing at the car or the dog. In no time, he was finished.

Then it was time to talk cost. Uh oh. Zack prefaced his cost tally on the rationale behind weekend rates since he had to come in for us. I wondered how much regular business he got during the work week. But we just slightly nodded waiting for the number. For the used tire, and the labor, and the trouble of coming in on a beautiful Sunday afternoon...

Thirty five dollars.

"Will you take a check?"

He did.

Indeed, we made it out of the garage in one piece and all the way back to Minneapolis.

Garfield

From the blog, Garfield minus Garfield

Communion wafer taste test

Done by Real Live Preacher: