Kindling the Flame

Kindles are all the rage these days.

A Kindle is a machine that lets you read books, magazines and newspapers. It will hold over 1,500 books. If you've read all your books and need another one instantly, you can download a book in seconds ($9.99 per book, unless otherwise indicated). You can also get your books read to you--if you're in the middle of a book and are going to be driving somewhere, it will play it for you (earphones optional; it doesn't say whether there is a way to have the sound come through your car speakers, but I'm sure there is--for an additional $30-$50). It also remembers the page you were last reading, so no hunting around for a bookmark. People who have Kindles absolutely love them.

As a gadget geek, when Amazon first announced the Kindle, I was intrigued. How fun it would be. Lighter to carry around than a big book, if I were reading a thick book.

But then I started thinking of all the reasons I like books, and the big reason (other than cost) why I should not even think about getting a Kindle.

Books are more than just "something to read." Books are a whole sensual experience. The heft of the book in your hand, the feel of the paper as you turn the pages, the smell of a musty old book store, the design of the page...the font chosen. It's all part of the reading experience.

Then there is the fun of rummaging through someone's box of used books and finding just exactly the book you were looking for, or discovering a brand new author that your friend loved and you'd never read before.

To say nothing of the feeling you get when you donate a box of beloved books to a charity store and watching others looking through the book shelves trying to find their own gems. (I recently picked up two new Michael Connellys at the SPCA thrift store and a James Heriot I hadn't read.)

If all of your reading is on a Kindle, how will babysitters amuse themselves rummaging through your bookshelves for something to read? (I remember the first time I went to a house that had no books in it and how amazed I was because I'd always grown up with books.) (And yeah, I realize that today babysitters are watching TV or playing video games...but I can dream, can't I?)

Kindle seems to be another step in the focus on "me" and away from "others." If I read a great book on a Kindle, I can't then give it to my mother and tell her she has to read this book. Books are not transferrable to other machines, apparently (which makes sense--Amazon is not in the business of charity).

But there's an even bigger reason why I should never have a Kindle.

Basically (and yes, I can see Peggy nodding her head), I'm a terrible klutz.

I can't walk across the room without knocking something over. I remember once we were in a small store in Seattle and after the second or third time I'd nearly knocked something over, Peggy pointed at me and said "You. Outside." I waited outside while she completed her purchase. She rolled her eyes a lot when we were out shopping.

If I had a kindle, I'd drop it, or sit on it, or lose it or knock it into a puddle of water, or let a puppy chew on it. I'm 100% convinced that would happen.

Now I can see a lot of plusses to having a Kindle. Apparently you can read blogs on your kindle. That would be cool, to be able to read blogs while I'm away from the computer--I could keep up better. Also I think you can increase the print size, which might also be nice with some books. And I suspect that I could read in the car at night without disturbing the driver. That would be great.

But the biggest deterrent to getting a kindle is the cost. $350 at Amazon. That's without books. Then for every book you want to read, add another $9. I'm sitting here with a stack of books staring at me, books I'm eager to read (I'm reading the Heriot now) and think that I'd have to have my head examined to even think about getting a Kindle before I've finished all the books I have on the book shelves throughout the house! I'm thinking of how many books I could buy for $350.

If you have a Kindle (or even if you don't), I'd love to know your thoughts. Are Kindle-like machines the wave of the future? Or is this going to be a flash in the pan? Someone who wrote a comment on my status on Facebook said, "A house with no books is like a body with no soul." I wonder how that fits for a Kindle ..."

(Anyone who would like to see more specifics on the Kindle, check it out here.)

P.S. I saw a Kindle today. The friend with whom I had lunch had one. She had bought a leather cover for it ($30 more) and I have to admit that with a cover it seemed more like a real book and didn't seem quite as dislikable as I thought it would. However, it's not back-lit, so no reading in the dark, as I originally thought, unless you buy one of the optional clip on lights ($13 more) She also liked that she could send paperwork that she needed to read to her special address on Amazon and they would upload it to her Kindle (for 10 cents a page).

All things considered, though I can see some positive features, the Kindle mostly seems like the gift that keeps on giving--to Amazon!

Hypertension

I could never be on a debate team, or consider being a trial lawyer. My heart couldn't take it.

The obviously calm demeanor it takes to be a trial attorney (Alan Shore's emotional diatribes on Boston Legal notwithstanding) would be hazardous to my blood pressure.

This morning I had the distinct unpleasant experience of watching the arguments before the California Supreme Court regarding the repealing (or not) Prop 8, the gay marriage ban which passed last November.

I'm not an attorney and so my brain does not understand the subtleties of the legal mind. I hear these phrases like "suspect classification" bandied about with regard to the gay community and I'm already fuming.

I hear Ken Starr talking about the diminution of equal rights for gay people and I want to scream. How smoothly he talks about the existing marriages and says that yes, they will still be married -- their marriages just won't be recognized or acknowledged in the state of California...but if they go to Massachusetts, they can still be married. They just can't be married in California. Slimy guy.

Every time somebody makes a statement "for the sake of argument" I want to jump up and say "but...! but...! but...!"

When the judges talk about domestic partnership and how they maintain "most of" the rights of marriage, I want to jump up and scream how "most of" is not equal to "all of." I want to point out how it is NOT equal when you have to pay an attorney to assure that all of those "most of marriage rights" will be permitted.

I realize that the only way to approach the court is officially and with the extensive use of previous cases and the like, but for every argument that is made, I see faces of gay couples -- my friends -- who will be affected by conceding that the heterosexual population of the state of California had the right to make decisious about the lives of the homosexual population.

I see Mason and Avery

and think about their two moms and how if their marriage is invalidated, they can only have one mom and that the other mom will have no right to make decisions about their school or their health care (particularly important since these two boys nearly died at birth and one of them still has ongoing health problems...if the biological Mom is out of town, legally the non-biological Mom would have no right to make decisions about health care).

Of course I think about Ellen and Shelly

and how many times I've been through elation and depression with them. I think of the beautiful statements they made at their wedding reception and how happy everybody was that day, as the huge crowd that jammed into the Veterans Memorial building, gay and straight, cheered.

I think of Roy and Craig

and the beautiful wedding ceremony on the Capitol grounds in Sacramento and Craig's assurance that "this is forever." He didn't think it was "forever, until the court changes its mind again."

I think of the 18,000 couples who married in California, now in danger of having their marriages declared not "acknowledged or recognized in California."

The ability to marry the person you love is a fundamental right (my friend Olivia has made the legal importance of the wording abundantly clear) and when the majority takes away the fundamental rights of the minority, it's just not right.

May the California Supreme Court do the only fair thing and strike down this hateful law.

In the meantime, I may have to double up on my blood pressure medication!

Jack

OK. I lied. I said that I wouldn't have three puppy entries in a row. But technically speaking this isn't a puppy entry...it's a baby with puppy entry.

The highlight of today was Jack's visit.

Jack is the son of our friend Jessica and is a couple of weeks older than Brianna, so he's always a good indicator of where she is in her development. Jessica had asked if she could bring him by to meet the puppies and, really, what is cuter than babies and puppies!

Jack had brought a ball for the puppies, as a gift, but there seemed to be some misunderstanding as to who was supposed to keep control of the ball. Much shrieking ensued, but they all played together nicely otherwise.

It was a little overwhelming to have FOUR dogs sniffing Jack, so I put Lizzie and Sheila outside.

Lizzie, of course, put on a good show for the entire time Jack was here, leaping high in the air (which Jack thought was the funniest thing ever). Of course after watching this for awhile, Tater decided that she should try it as well.

I think Jessica liked the puppies more than Jack, who seemed more interested in a container of baby powder he found.

Jessica and I decided that one of these puppies would be the perfect dog for Jeri and Phil, who have been looking for a dog for over a year now. We started sending both Jeri and Phil pix and video on their cell phones. We even promised Walt would fly back to Boston with the puppy. Phil was intrigued, but it's looking more like they've decided to go with an older dog, perhaps one not quite so big (though originally they were looking for a bigger dog).

The puppies have started using the treadmill as a jungle gym and Jack also thought it was just great to climb all over it and have the puppies follow him.

It was really fun having Jack in the house and fun watching him with the puppies. They will all grow up all too quickly!

Me too!

Lizzie is the most jealous dog. You can't do anything with anybody or anything that Lizzie doesn't want to be a part of it. When we have our morning "love in," she's very coy about it, but she definitely noses Sheila out of the way so she can get the most love. If Walt comes to talk to me, she has to get between us.

With puppies and older foster dogs, she's funny. She seems to enjoy playing, when she wants to, but she's also extremely territorial.

There was a time when she was very motherly with puppies, as this picture with the Rainbow puppies, 2 years ago, shows.

But we've probably had too much for her and the novelty has worn off.

Yesterday the puppies were in the family room and Lizzie ran into the living room to get a squeak toy that I don't think she's played with in weeks. She brought it into the family room, plopped herself down on the dog bed and began to squeak it furiously, as if daring the puppies to try to take it away from her.

If they even looked in her direction, she growled at them. Then she actually rolled around on the toy on her back, making it squeak and again, daring the puppies to try and take it away from her.

But Tater proved that if you wait long enough, it's finally your turn!

The puppies seem to have settled back in here very well and they remember (perhaps) how they enjoyed sleeping on my lap. It's just a bit more awkward since they've gained more than 10 lbs in their absence!!!

The Return of Tater and Tot

Yes! They're back. We waited down at the SPCA thrift store for 45 minutes this afternoon (bad idea...I shopped in the used book section while waiting!) until they were finally delivered. It was so good to see them again. And how they've grown!

This is what they looked like when they left

This is what they look like now.

Tot is still smaller than Tater (and darker), but they have definitely grown!!!

Tot has the Sheila ear thing going now.

And Tater, who once learned how to get through the dog door is trying to remember how she used to do it.

They used to curl up on Walt's chest, under his chin.

Probably not going to happen now.

Tot's favorite place to be was usually curled up behind my neck.

And she still thinks she can do it.

Not sure how long they'll be here. They are going in to be spayed this week and I guess they will be coming back. They continue to be very mellow puppies and I hope that they find forever homes soon because they are real cuties!

Off With Her Head!

The following is reprinted with permission of the author, Debra LoGuercio, a columnist I admire very much. I thought it was important enough to ask for her permission to reprint.

Beheading of Muslim woman drips with blood and irony

By Debra LoGuercio
©Copyright 2009, Debra LoGuercio, all rights reserved

I didn't want to write about this. We have enough doom and gloom already -- why add to our collective pool of misery. But this story needs to be told because it got far less press last week than Jennifer Aniston turning 40 or the latest update on human baby factory Nadya Suleman. And that, in and of itself, is just wrong.

The brutal murder of Aasiya Hassan, however, is beyond wrong. It's beyond tragic. There isn't even a word that captures the horror of being murdered by one's own husband. That is how Hassan's life ended. Her decapitated body was found in a hallway, her severed head nearby.

This horror took place not in some tribal area of the Middle East, where beheadings are acceptable forms of punishment, but in Buffalo, New York. Yes, right here in America. And no one noticed. Or maybe they're afraid to notice. But we must notice.

We must.

"The crime drips with brutal irony: a woman decapitated, allegedly by her estranged husband, in the offices of the television network the couple founded with the hope of countering Muslim stereotypes," writes Carolyn Thompson of the Associated Press.

Brutal irony indeed.

A related AP story notes that New York television executive, Muzzammil Hassan, 44, "sought to improve the image of Muslims in the media" and "launched his Bridges TV network in 2004. In an AP interview, he said he hoped the network would balance negative portrayals of Muslims following the Sept. 11, 2001, terror attacks."

So much for that.

A week before her death, Aasiya Hassan filed for a divorce, allegedly following years of domestic violence and abuse. She had a restraining order, and her husband was legally forced from their home in a quiet, upscale New York suburb. Following their estrangement, says the AP story, "the beheaded body of Aasiya Hassan, 37, was found last week at the offices of Bridges TV, the Muslim-American television network the couple started to promote understanding between cultures."

Muzzammil Hassan's defense attorney James Harrington insisted, "culture, religion doesn't play a role." (Ah, defense attorneys. Their concept of "truth" is so fluid.) The AP story notes that "experts say such killings are still accepted among fanatical Muslim men, including in the couple's native Pakistan, who feel betrayed by their wives." In other words, honor killings.

Estranged husbands - both Muslim and non-Muslim - injure and murder their wives with shocking frequency, but beheading falls into a grisly category all its own. They just don't happen here. True, beheadings occurred in our European history, but nowadays, they occur predominantly in the Muslim world. Outside the Muslim world, beheadings simply do not occur in modern society anymore, except at the hands of the criminally insane. (Note to Muslim world: Beheading is oh-so six centuries ago.)

It would be easy to let the murder of Aasiya Hassan intensify the mistrust and tension between Muslims and non-Muslims, but I decided to focus instead on the one sliver of hope in this nightmarish story. It's not much of a sliver, microscopic in fact, but it's something.

The AP notes that the Islamic Society of North America "urged (Muslim) leaders to take a strong stand against domestic violence." Imam Mohamed Hagmagid Ali stated, "Women who seek divorce from their spouses because of physical abuse should get full support from the community and should not be viewed as someone who has brought shame to herself or her family."

OK, it's a start, and the Islamic Society of North America should be applauded for that. At least there was "urging" to take a stand, and a statement that abused women seeking a divorce should be supported by the community rather than scorned (let alone brutally murdered) but it wasn't enough. The Islamic Society didn't declare Muzzammil Hassan's actions to be unacceptable. His actions should have been soundly denounced. They were not. The statement talks about the woman, talks about the community, but the actions of the murderer were ignored. Let that not go unnoticed.

Nonetheless, the Islamic Society's statement was still a start, and we should heap praise on Muslims who speak out against atrocities committed by those claiming to follow Islam, and in particular, to honor killings and beheadings. Bravo, Islamic Society of North America! And a denouncement, even as an addendum, would still be welcomed!

As for Aasiya Hassan, we can't help her now, but we can honor her memory. Former Bridges TV news director Nancy Sanders said that Hassan "didn't want her children to be brought up in a world where every mention of a Muslim had some sort of terrorist connotation to it." We can honor Hassan - both Muslim and non-Muslim alike - by objecting loudly to honor killings and barbarism such as that which ended her life.

Sanders adds, "This woman in particular fought so hard to change the image of Muslims in America, and how does she die? This brutal act at the hand of her husband. It just stuns me."

It should stun us all. A lot more than Jennifer Aniston turning 40 or some woman in Southern California spraying out babies like a lawn sprinkler.

http://www.edebra.com/BISS/muslimWife.htm

I'd Rather Do It Myself

In her blog entry today, Noble Pig, really touched a nerve. ("Noble Pig," btw, is the nom de plume of a writer for the on-line magazine, Davis Life, which has amazing photography and those mouth-watering recipes submitted by Noble Pig herself, complete with gorgeous step-by-step photos. If you want to know about life in Davis, with photos that will often blow you away, this is the shop for it!)

Anyway, her entry was called "I have to sit on my hands" and it talked about how difficult it was for her not to get involved with her kids' art projects, not to clean up as they go along, not to "make it prettier," or better somehow. The accompanying photo was of her kids' Pinewood derby cars.

The Pinewood derby was the bane of my existence, when our kids were in Scouting (Yes, our boys were in the Boy Scouts -- those were the days before its leadership had been taken over by religious fundamentalists who began to wage a war against gay and athiest boys and leaders, when anybody could participate, no matter what -- just like they do in all the other countries of the world, except this one!)

But I digress!

For those who don't know, the Pinewood Derby is a racing event for Cub Scouts, who, with the help of parents, build their own cars from kits containing a block of pine, plastic wheels and metal axles. Notice it says "with the help of parents."

Some parents always take the "help" part a bit too literally and when the cars show up for the race, they look like they just came off the prototype desk at some auto manufacturer's think tank. They are perfectly shaped, perfectly painted, polished to a high gloss, and, of course, they usually win because they have all the proper aerodynamics.

There was one kid in town who came every year with his perfectly made Pinewood Derby car that would not have been out of place on the shelf of a local model car store. Not only did he have the perfect car, but his father wouldn't even let him put it on the track. It had to be placed "just so." He usually won, of course, but you wonder if the kid felt any pride in the win.

I won a big prize in a contest once. It was a writing contest. The nuns had information about the Harold Harding Memorial Essay Contest, sponsored by a group called The Propeller Club of The United States. You were supposed to write an essay about the Merchant Marine, not exactly a real hot topic at an all girls' high school!

Day after day I was excused from class so I could meet in the library with the nun who was supervising me and slowly but surely my essay took shape. Only it wasn't my essay. It was the nun's. What I remember of the experience is essentially taking dictation while she told me what to write.

When it was finished, I knew no more about the Merchant Marine than I did before I started to write because the nun had written the entire thing for me.

There were lots of us who won prizes--some 25, I believe. (I found the letter that I received which told me I'd won a prize. I had to laugh when it said that I should ask the elevator man for directions to the 13th floor. Is it so hard to find the 13th floor in an elevator? Don't you just press the "13" button?)

My mother received a note stating that the committee "shares with you a genuine and sincere pride in the accomplishments of the prize winner in whose life you serve as a guiding light."

The prize winners were invited to attend a banquet with one of our parents and they began handing out prizes. The farther up the list they went, the bigger the prizes got. I don't remember what first prize was -- probably some big money. But I won fifth prize and my prize was a cruise from San Francisco to Los Angeles on one of the big American President Line cruise ships -- the President Cleveland.

After the banquet I received a follow-up letter of congatulations stating, "Not only are we proud of the work you have done thus far in connection with your interest in our country's maritime industry, but also we wish you further and continued success in whatever life pursuits you undertake, and we trust that your enjoyment of your contest prize and your ever expanding interest in shipping, trade, and related fields will be a constant source of strength and joy over the years to come."

I went on the cruise with my mother and my sister. It was just an overnight cruise. Someone (it was probably my father) arranged for a newspaper photographer to come and take our picture because I was the big prize winner.

We really had a great time and, since it was about a year after Disneyland opened, we spent the day at the park. Then we flew home (my first trip on an airplane too). I don't remember if the flight home was part of the prize package or not.

It really was fun, but to this day I feel guilty about it. I have zero pride in the win and I feel like I took the prize under false pretenses because I didn't really write anything original except what my counselor told me to write. (Who could have known I would spend a huge chunk of the rest of my life transcribing dictation!)

I wonder if little Pinewood Derby Johnny feels the same way about all his Pinewood Derby trophies. I knew even as a kid that I had been encouraged to cheat by the nun who was helping me. Did Pinewood Derby Johnny realize that all of those cars he entered in the race were cheating?

Parents (and mentors) have to give kids pride of ownership, not the sense that cheating is OK as long as you win. Our kids worked with Walt to build their own cars, but he advised--he didn't take over the project. Their entries looked like they'd been made by a kid, and they never won, but I suspect they had more fun with the project than little Johnny did watching his dad do it for him so he could take home the top prize.