Monday, March 10, 2008
a dream deferred -- a dream come true
I am sooooooooo excited. This week we spent a small fortune on tickets to Budapest, Hungary, with a couple days in Paris on the way back. We will visit with Jonah who is teaching first, second and third grade Hungarian children in Budapest, and take a trip with him somewhere on the weekend, perhaps to the mountains of Slovakia. All those years while the kids were little I yearned to travel. I looked forward eagerly to work trips which took me to various US cities. And 4 years ago, I made an historic trip with my octogenarian mother and uncle and my 15 year-old daughter, traveling to England and Ireland (with a marvelous but painfully brief 42 hour stay in Paris). So many great things happened on this trip, especially in Ireland, our primary destination, but it was also stressful to travel in such company. I promised myself that one day, I would go back "with adults", but this seemed more abstract than real surrounded by our realities of work, family and income limitations. And yet, here we are, in what would seem to be the most unlikey of times--with uncertainties afoot in both work and finances-- and yet we've just seized an historic moment, an offer we could not refuse, and are following our hearts to Hungary. A dream deferred is poised to become a dream come true. Can this really be happening?
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Hey, Democrats... behave like it's a democracy!
"Superdelgates, Back Off" ran today's Sunday NY Times editorial headline, with the abstract: "Democratic Party leaders should let voters pick their nominee". Now there's a radical notion. Author Tad Devine goes on to explain a bit of the history behind the superdelegate thing. They were created to provide the margin of victory to the candidate who won the most support from primary and caucus voters, not to throw the match. With the delegate count predicted to be so very close, the news today is that these super-delgates are being full court pressed by both Clinton and Obama's troops to declare support for her or him even before all the democrats across the country have voted or caucused. If these super-delegated political insiders actually tip the balance and over-ride the popular vote, they will be doing to the democratic voters what the Supreme Court did to the nation after Al Gore was elected president. Democrats will be pissed! I will be pissed! And an awful lot of pissed disenfranchised democrats may stay home on November 4th. I would be tempted, but would probably cool down by November. My 18 year old daughter, on the other hand, is already pissed at the caucus set up which doesn't allow a Hawaii kid attending a Mainland college (or teaching in Hungary) to vote in the primary. If she hears that a few establishment democrats chose the nominee, she, and many young folks like her, may just stay home in droves and we could be stuck with President McCain, the 100 year war, and the creation of thousands of great new jobs at McDonalds.
What happens when you join the capitalist machine
What follows is a disclaimer for the ads that appear on the right upper corner of this blog... or at least the ads that were there when this entry was posted... they change from moment to moment.
What happens when you join the capitalist machine is you get ads for denigrating sexist schlock items like the (goddess help us) "Hillary Nutcracker". I put Google ads on my site, just to experiment with how it works. I don't expect that either Google or I will make any money from these ads...like, my visitor numbers are in the low hundreds, not thousands. I've mostly been amused to see what their search engine yenta matches up with my writing topics: ads for Hawaii vacations, attorneys, life insurance, college loans, even drug rehab programs. But the moment I posted something about Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton, I got two Hillary ads, one for her official website and the other, which we shall not dignify by menioning again (said in one's best Katherine Hepburn quaver). Sheesh, guess I've sold out and gone to join the circus.
What happens when you join the capitalist machine is you get ads for denigrating sexist schlock items like the (goddess help us) "Hillary Nutcracker". I put Google ads on my site, just to experiment with how it works. I don't expect that either Google or I will make any money from these ads...like, my visitor numbers are in the low hundreds, not thousands. I've mostly been amused to see what their search engine yenta matches up with my writing topics: ads for Hawaii vacations, attorneys, life insurance, college loans, even drug rehab programs. But the moment I posted something about Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton, I got two Hillary ads, one for her official website and the other, which we shall not dignify by menioning again (said in one's best Katherine Hepburn quaver). Sheesh, guess I've sold out and gone to join the circus.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Hillary
Because I greatly admire Hillary, and because you cannot watch this town hall meeting without being impressed by her discussion of the issues and solutions...check out this video replaying right now on her site...
http://townhall.hillaryclinton.com/
(cut and paste this into yr browser till I figure out how to make the link live...)
And then, as a reminder of the deep sexism that Hillary's candidacy elicits, read Robin Morgan's essay Goodbye To All That (#2) - February 2, 2008
http://www.womensmediacenter.com/
(same as above...)
http://townhall.hillaryclinton.com/
(cut and paste this into yr browser till I figure out how to make the link live...)
And then, as a reminder of the deep sexism that Hillary's candidacy elicits, read Robin Morgan's essay Goodbye To All That (#2) - February 2, 2008
http://www.womensmediacenter.com/
(same as above...)
Sunday, February 3, 2008
'Yes We Can' Barack Obama Music Video
Do we dare to hope once again for real progressive change, an enlightened leader, and a winner...in Barack Obama?
Beautifully done YouTube video reportedly made independently of the campaign—by Bob Dylan's son, director Jesse Dylan, and musician will.i.am of the Black Eyed Peas.
Yes,We Can!
Beautifully done YouTube video reportedly made independently of the campaign—by Bob Dylan's son, director Jesse Dylan, and musician will.i.am of the Black Eyed Peas.
Yes,We Can!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
weather report
"Hey Ma, guess what?". It's Sunday morning, post-yoga class and I'm sitting in Coffee Talk when my cell phone rings and Kalei's name appears on the screen. "What?" I respond bravely, thinking, "oh, God, what next?". "It's snowing!" she replies. "I was doing homework and when I looked out my window I noticed it wasn't raining properly. Then I heard people saying, "It's snowing!", and now everyone's outside in it. Oh, I see Ana out there...ok, Mom, I just wanted to tell you that. Bye!". It's the first time this girl has seen snow fall from the sky, and she called to share the moment with me. How very cool. The excitment was contagious: perhaps my voice rose, because I saw a few folks nearby in the this Hawaii coffee shop smiling, perhaps recalling a lovely snowfall in their past, or one they hoped to experience in the future.
There is nothing like seeing your first snowfall, and to those who grow up in the tropics, the experience can be magical, miraculous, and fearsome. Many years ago I traveled to the East Coast with a co-worker and friend from Wai'anae, and I'll never forget the amazement in her face as she watched snow sift from the sky, lining the lawns and coating the gray tree branches. She was afraid to venture out into it, preferring to sit bundled up inside toasty and warm at the window, watching it fall for hours. More recently I was in Washington DC with a delegation of people from the Marshall Islands when a surprise springtime snowstorm hit. Some of the visitors simply stayed in their hotel, even passing up visits to the Congressional representatives. Others, notably the younger ones, simply had to "go out and explore the astonishment of living", as one of their wise and poetic elders put it. And when I got back home, the college parent's email network was a-buzz with the news of calls from kids about the snowfall--apparently an unusual occurance in this part of Northern California. Expected or unexpected, perhaps it is the job of the young, to help us elders see our truly astonishing world afresh.
There is nothing like seeing your first snowfall, and to those who grow up in the tropics, the experience can be magical, miraculous, and fearsome. Many years ago I traveled to the East Coast with a co-worker and friend from Wai'anae, and I'll never forget the amazement in her face as she watched snow sift from the sky, lining the lawns and coating the gray tree branches. She was afraid to venture out into it, preferring to sit bundled up inside toasty and warm at the window, watching it fall for hours. More recently I was in Washington DC with a delegation of people from the Marshall Islands when a surprise springtime snowstorm hit. Some of the visitors simply stayed in their hotel, even passing up visits to the Congressional representatives. Others, notably the younger ones, simply had to "go out and explore the astonishment of living", as one of their wise and poetic elders put it. And when I got back home, the college parent's email network was a-buzz with the news of calls from kids about the snowfall--apparently an unusual occurance in this part of Northern California. Expected or unexpected, perhaps it is the job of the young, to help us elders see our truly astonishing world afresh.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
the illusion of order
ok, I'm back!
Kalei left yesterday early in the morning to return to her California college. We dropped her off at the airport running a low fever and toting 2 large duffle bags, the one she brought home, plus another holding a long skateboard from Jonah and large futon quilt from Grandma. Today, mercifully, is Saturday, and I found myself cleaning up Kalei's room, putting clothes back into boxes in our 3rd small bedroom, aka the storage room. In the process, I decided to empty out and store in one box Kalei's many bags, totes and knapsacks, her personal artistic creations over the past several years, some of which she pulled out and used while at home over the holidays. Some are unique and beautiful, others ratty and worn, and all were full of small treasures, rubbish, toiletries, pens and the occassional contraband item. I salvaged the disposable contacts lenses, coins and anything that looked like a treasure---as we have a specific request not to throw out any found metal objects. These discoveries revealed no new informations to me, and yet I still felt small shock waves hit my body when I came upon items she would not have wanted me to find. Yet, for the first time, I felt this strange calm knowing that there is nothing more I can or need to do about this now. She is a young adult, making some poor choices to be sure, but they are hers to make. We've delivered our messages, and she knows full well what we think and value and fear. I know for sure that we are a powerful voice inside her head,and try to have faith that in time it will become something she doesn't have to run from. Recalling how I would have responded only a year ago, I felt relieved to be here at this point in time, and not back in the midst of those struggles. Overall, this girl is doing well, still a rebel and renegade, still making mistakes and suffering some consequences, but more successful in school and happier than ever with herself, her friends, and yes, even with us. She stayed around the house quite a bit and we spent an unprecendented percentage of harmonious time together this holiday season. I am sad she is gone, and have trouble imagining not seeing her till the end of May. Yet, as all the books predict, it is good to have the home back, to be sitting in a puddle of peace and reflection, to be back to bloging. So, on this day after her departure, I found myself sitting amidst boxes and debris, weaving a weird kind of closure ritual, re-ordering our home by organizing her things, working within my limited parental sphere of influence, and thus creating some small illusion that perhaps I can bring a bit of order to her brave and chaotic young life.
Kalei left yesterday early in the morning to return to her California college. We dropped her off at the airport running a low fever and toting 2 large duffle bags, the one she brought home, plus another holding a long skateboard from Jonah and large futon quilt from Grandma. Today, mercifully, is Saturday, and I found myself cleaning up Kalei's room, putting clothes back into boxes in our 3rd small bedroom, aka the storage room. In the process, I decided to empty out and store in one box Kalei's many bags, totes and knapsacks, her personal artistic creations over the past several years, some of which she pulled out and used while at home over the holidays. Some are unique and beautiful, others ratty and worn, and all were full of small treasures, rubbish, toiletries, pens and the occassional contraband item. I salvaged the disposable contacts lenses, coins and anything that looked like a treasure---as we have a specific request not to throw out any found metal objects. These discoveries revealed no new informations to me, and yet I still felt small shock waves hit my body when I came upon items she would not have wanted me to find. Yet, for the first time, I felt this strange calm knowing that there is nothing more I can or need to do about this now. She is a young adult, making some poor choices to be sure, but they are hers to make. We've delivered our messages, and she knows full well what we think and value and fear. I know for sure that we are a powerful voice inside her head,and try to have faith that in time it will become something she doesn't have to run from. Recalling how I would have responded only a year ago, I felt relieved to be here at this point in time, and not back in the midst of those struggles. Overall, this girl is doing well, still a rebel and renegade, still making mistakes and suffering some consequences, but more successful in school and happier than ever with herself, her friends, and yes, even with us. She stayed around the house quite a bit and we spent an unprecendented percentage of harmonious time together this holiday season. I am sad she is gone, and have trouble imagining not seeing her till the end of May. Yet, as all the books predict, it is good to have the home back, to be sitting in a puddle of peace and reflection, to be back to bloging. So, on this day after her departure, I found myself sitting amidst boxes and debris, weaving a weird kind of closure ritual, re-ordering our home by organizing her things, working within my limited parental sphere of influence, and thus creating some small illusion that perhaps I can bring a bit of order to her brave and chaotic young life.
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