Suggestion for Halloween

The wonderful thing about the Internet is that one comes across things that one would not normally see in Berkeley. Such as the Bibleman costume:

"Nothing says "You Lose" like arriving for battle in flowing cape and warrior mask."

I guess it remains to be seen exactly who the loser is.

Non Traditional (?) Action Figures

In case you haven't yet visited the catholic action figure website, here is a bit of text describing the Jesus action figure:

"Jesus was the most important person in history. Ever. He was born in a manger, raised as a carpenter, and crucified on a cross. He healed the sick. He raised the dead. He fed five thousand men with two fish and five loaves of bread."

Impressive.

Mary's action figure description, however, leaves me with a few questions:

"Mary was just an ordinary girl, who got a visit from the angel Gabriel, and her life-and legacy-changed forever as she accepted this role of being the mother of Jesus."

I do recommend visiting the site for additional illuminating information about characters from the old and new testament.

BART haiku - September 25, 2007

Security Guard

His wheelchair rigged: police lights

Uniformed. Roll on.

BART Haiku, September 25, 2007

Thinning hair, dyed black

Tight, light blue velvet sweat suit

Sir, not attractive.

BART Haiku - a background

A friend of mine told me during a dine@ soiree, about a phone texting group he was a part of and one of the group activities is BART haiku. The poem must be written on BART or shortly thereafter when inspired by BART.

Last night, as Shaun expressed his distaste for public transporation, I told him how much I enjoy riding BART every day amid, amongst all the humanity (opposites do attract) (not that I am inhuman -- Shaun and I are opposites) (in case I confused you).

When I first started school, I was not a part of BART, and was amazed by the mass of people getting on BART during early morning rush hour; how they could, despite being crammed on top of each other, each plug in to their separate technologies to isolate themselves from the throng; how they get off the train en masse like ants heading about their busy busy business.

Now I am one of them (ant people), but I still enjoy the quintessential BART moments that happen nearly every day. And BART haiku seems to me to be a perfect format for sharing those moments of being (Virginia Woolf may nod, may not).

Thus, I share.

BART Haiku - September 21, 2007

Not standing in line

Pirouettes on the platform -

Should he get a seat?

Modern Times

This morning, Molly was looking through a folder of her drawings and other creations from kindergarten (she's a big fourth-grader now), when she came across a letter she had written to Santa.

"Mom! What is this doing here! How come it wasn't mailed??"

I paused before answering, wondering whether she was pulling my leg or being sincere, because by her age, I certainly had figured out the truth about Santa.

In fact, one year, long before I was nine, my sisters and I had forcibly disrobed "Santa" one Christmas to prove that we knew he was really Jimmy Curry, friend of our parents. His red plastic suit and cotton ball beard were completely unconvincing and easily torn from his body.

Molly asked me once -- probably around the time she wrote the letter at issue -- if I would tell her the truth about Santa. I said I would and waited for the question, "is he real?" but she never asked it. So we left it at that. I guess you could say we have a "don't ask, don't tell" Santa policy in our house. We have acknowleged that some people don't believe in Santa -- or the tooth fairy, or the easter bunny -- but that everyone has a choice in that matter. Molly continues to choose to believe.

Thus, Molly was truly miffed that her letter hadn't been sent. So I did some quick thinking.

"I think I must have faxed it to him. That way I could keep the original copy because it was so cute!"

She seemed satisfied with this answer -- at least she didn't ask any further questions.

Free Pre-Paid Cremation!

I received this in the mail the other day, addressed to my mother (in the interest of my privacy, my address has been deleted).

However, I'm afraid I didn't respect my mother's privacy and opened her mail. I was intrigued... if something is pre-paid, then how is it free?? Here are some of the highlights.

"WIN A PRE-PAID CREMATION!" (if you fill out and mail in their info card, they enter you into a monthly drawing. I guess it's kind of like winning a free vacation, which, interestingly, rhymes with cremation.)

"With everyone moving around these days, placing a loved one in a 'local' cemetery may not be as functional as it used to be."

"Like we said: 'Cremation just makes sense'. If you are not interested in spending your family's inheritance on embalming, caskets, vaults, markers, fancy funeral homes, or cemetery property, then we have the answer!" (guilt plus exclamation points -- good marketing strategy)

"Please accept our apologies if this letter has reached you at a time of serious illness or death in your family." (thoughtful. apology accepted)

Here's Jane

Just click here...

Half a Glass...

Life's really great here. Shaun had surgery on his foot last week and has been immobile in bed until today. (Half empty = Shaun can't do much to help; half full = when he heals, he won't be in constant foot pain.) Last night we discovered Molly had a major lice infestation which miraculously hadn't passed on to the rest of us. (Half empty = infested with lice; half full = only Molly). And I have Grampa's operation to look forward to (half empty = kidney removed; half full = cancer removed), and next weekend I'll be helping to clean out MooMoo's things (half empty = she's dead; half full = I might end up with some cool stuff).

As you can see, I'm teetering on the edge of positive thinking.

Four-Year-Old Wisdom

Everybody in the world loves you if you give them presents.

Missing Jane?

This is a fun video of Jane in Ireland. Too bad I can't figure out how to make it work on Blogger. If Jane read my blog, she could protest my next idea of posting it on you tube....

Moo reciting the ballad of Yukon Jake

Moo Moo's Christmas Message

Moo Moo, age 101.

(She's the one on the left)

Moo Moo is only 93 here. A spring chicken.

You can tell by the hat.

Moo Moo

A Loan From God

This came in the mail the other day, addressed to me. Though I don't believe in God, I was prepared to suspend my disbelief if God was going to give me money. I was impressed that God had figured out that I am deep in law school debt and wanted to help me out. And I figured that God's interest rate would be at least as good as the government's, if not better, because God shouldn't be greedy. I did wonder how these people got the direct line to God's finance department. Unfortunately, it wasn't a straightforward low-interest loan, but some complicated prayer process which, I began to suspect, would involve me giving rather than receiving. Alas.

Cameras

Last week I started my summer job as a law clerk. Things were going fine until I noticed the cameras everywhere -- in the hallways, in the kitchen where we eat lunch, in several of the main office areas. I've had a lifelong issue with cameras when they are pointed at me. I make faces. I cannot help myself. It's like a nervous tic. The secretary outside the senior partner's office has a split screen monitor with continuous feed from each of the cameras. I wonder how often she watches the screen, because now that I am aware of the cameras, I can't help but look directly at each one as I pass by, and I make a face. Sometimes just a subtle lift of the eyebrows, sometimes a quick and quirky smile. I work hard to not stick out my tongue. I really hope that after a while I get used to the cameras and can go about my day like a normal person. If not . . . well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I must admit, this is an issue I hadn't prepared for.

Berkeley Bowl Poet

A guy named Zach sits outside of Berkeley Bowl (grocery store) with his manual typewriter, offering poems to passersby. His typewriter ribbon is broken so he uses white mailing labels -- The keys make readable indentations on the white sticker. I asked him to write a poem about Lily. He did:

Lily is a little
and with her
whittling of the
years and days
she will be
some kind
of wonderflower
which is
relevant
to what
happened
to the
days
May
is
a very nice place
to stay and if
it must pass
at least it
is the nursery rhyme
with a lily grown
in winter.