Any editor worth her salt knows one must never find glee in someone else’s mistake. So you mustn’t, dear reader, confuse this post with anything the least bit gleeful. In fact, it is a completely NON-glee-in-any-way attempt to save you and others like you from yourselves.
Well, unless you’re not someone who’d ever have to publish a correction, in which case, it’s just for your information.
No laughing please. It’s not funny.
Well, except maybe the one about the bear.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Q&A
A few days ago, a friend asked me some interesting questions in a different venue. I had a bunch of fun answering them. Then I decided I'd like you to answer them.
Use your name, don’t use your name. But please, dear reader, don’t leave us hanging.
Once you’re done, I’ll post my own answers.
Peace,
bzh
************
1. If you could make equal amounts of money doing any of the jobs you’ve ever done before, which would you pick?
2. If you could just eliminate four Disney characters from existence, which ones would you pick?
3. If you had a million dollars, what would you buy?
4. When you think of Jesus, do you first envision an adult, or an infant?
5. What are your three favorite blogs?
Use your name, don’t use your name. But please, dear reader, don’t leave us hanging.
Once you’re done, I’ll post my own answers.
Peace,
bzh
************
1. If you could make equal amounts of money doing any of the jobs you’ve ever done before, which would you pick?
2. If you could just eliminate four Disney characters from existence, which ones would you pick?
3. If you had a million dollars, what would you buy?
4. When you think of Jesus, do you first envision an adult, or an infant?
5. What are your three favorite blogs?
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Thursday, December 3, 2009
One of the privileged
Privilege: A special advantage or right possessed by an individual or group.
Man, do I have privilege. I’m Caucasian, able-bodied, able-minded, straight, educated, upper class and married.
The only place I might, in the teensiest way, have suffered for who I am is my gender. And even that hasn’t stopped me from doing anything I’ve wanted to do. Or if it has, I’m blissfully unaware, emphasis on blissful.
So can we all agree that I have oodles of privilege?
Now, can we also agree that my privilege doesn’t automatically categorize me as an insensitive boob when my attempts to see things from the point of view of those less privileged than I fail?
And wouldn’t it be great if we could extend that benefit of the doubt to the fairly large group of us who are working at it, even if our attempts aren't perfect this time? Or maybe any time?
I spend a lot of time with people whose privilege doesn’t extend as far and wide as mine does. Queer people. People of color. People whose bodies and minds are no longer whole.
Sometimes I get it just right. I say the right things, I do the right things, I think and feel the right things without having to, well, think about it.
Sometimes, though, I don’t get it right. And sometimes I get it dead wrong. None of the times is it because I don’t care and am not trying.
I don’t get it right for the same reason a newly arrived immigrant knows what “Stop moving around” means but can’t say the same for “Do you have ants in your pants?”
I don’t get it right because I’m not queer/black/disabled/whatever. I don’t come from there and, hard as I try, it doesn’t come naturally to think and feel as if I do. I’ve been working at it for a long time, and I still have to think about what I say and how I act, and will for the foreseeable future, before it comes naturally, which may be never.
Does that mean I should be thrown into the pile with the people who aren’t even trying? Should my attempts earn me scorn when they fall flat? Should my good intentions bring me ridicule when they don’t end up to be perfect?
If so, maybe I should just stop trying? Should we all stop until we can be absolutely certain we’ll get it perfectly right every time?
Would that be better?
Man, do I have privilege. I’m Caucasian, able-bodied, able-minded, straight, educated, upper class and married.
The only place I might, in the teensiest way, have suffered for who I am is my gender. And even that hasn’t stopped me from doing anything I’ve wanted to do. Or if it has, I’m blissfully unaware, emphasis on blissful.
So can we all agree that I have oodles of privilege?
Now, can we also agree that my privilege doesn’t automatically categorize me as an insensitive boob when my attempts to see things from the point of view of those less privileged than I fail?
And wouldn’t it be great if we could extend that benefit of the doubt to the fairly large group of us who are working at it, even if our attempts aren't perfect this time? Or maybe any time?
I spend a lot of time with people whose privilege doesn’t extend as far and wide as mine does. Queer people. People of color. People whose bodies and minds are no longer whole.
Sometimes I get it just right. I say the right things, I do the right things, I think and feel the right things without having to, well, think about it.
Sometimes, though, I don’t get it right. And sometimes I get it dead wrong. None of the times is it because I don’t care and am not trying.
I don’t get it right for the same reason a newly arrived immigrant knows what “Stop moving around” means but can’t say the same for “Do you have ants in your pants?”
I don’t get it right because I’m not queer/black/disabled/whatever. I don’t come from there and, hard as I try, it doesn’t come naturally to think and feel as if I do. I’ve been working at it for a long time, and I still have to think about what I say and how I act, and will for the foreseeable future, before it comes naturally, which may be never.
Does that mean I should be thrown into the pile with the people who aren’t even trying? Should my attempts earn me scorn when they fall flat? Should my good intentions bring me ridicule when they don’t end up to be perfect?
If so, maybe I should just stop trying? Should we all stop until we can be absolutely certain we’ll get it perfectly right every time?
Would that be better?
I do. They don’t.
Whether you’re gay or straight, this is the strongest defense of marriage you’ll ever see.
I wish Sen. Diane Savino were MY legislator. New York should be ashamed...
I wish Sen. Diane Savino were MY legislator. New York should be ashamed...
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Tiger by the tale
In June, as you know, I ended my longest-running relationship to date. I haven’t regretted it for a single minute.
All of what I wrote then is still true. I don’t know a thing about the people we’re supposed to be interested in. Among the boats I’ve missed: Jon & Kate, Gossip Girl, Twilight, most reality TV and the Kardashians (will someone please tell me what these people are famous for?)
I don’t actually care whether Jennifer Aniston is worried she’ll never marry again, or that Suri Cruise wears high heels. I wouldn’t know Rhianna or Chris Brown if I tripped over either of them. And I’ve never seen a single episode of Grey’s Anatomy, 30 Rock, Biggest Loser, How I Met Your Mother, The Office or Dancing with the Stars. (Relax. Really. I'm getting along just fine.)
What’s more, I’ve developed a real distaste for celebrity news, a real disdain for those who gather it and some real disgust for those who consume it.
I’ve come to hate what I used to be. The last straw was Tiger Woods.
For the love of everything holy, people. He cheated on his wife. Maybe a lot. Maybe more than a lot. And it’s STILL none of my business.
He’s not a public servant. He’s a public figure. An athlete. A golfer. What he owes his fans, his sponsors, the sport and this world is his very best effort on the golf course. Period.
If he were cheating at golf, that would be my business. That he’s cheating on his wife is HER business.
For days, he dodged questions from reporters and cops. He owed neither an explanation. I don’t blame him for clamming up. He has more important things to tend to — like his marriage and his family.
The poking and prodding continued, relentless in its pursuit of the truth, despite the fact that no one is owed the truth but the woman he married.
He didn’t answer. That brought up more questions. Then he gave a non-answer. That really drove ’em crazy. Finally, after three women with whom he apparently had consensual sex came forward — along with their attorneys — to quiet our raging hunger for every morsel of detail, he issued an apology and then told us it’s none of our business.
Having once been married to a scratch golfer, I can say without hesitation that I hate golf. I don’t mind golfers, except when they talk about golf, which I hate.
I have never had a feeling one way or the other, though, about Tiger Woods the man. He’s a magnificent athlete, magical to watch. It appears he’s also a cad. Maybe worse.
And still, it’s none of my business.
Last night, the president of our country gave a game-changer of a speech about Afghanistan. Our health care system is a shambles. Our planet is a mess. Our political parties delight in ruining lives. Our best leaders won’t even get into the game for fear we’ll pounce on their imperfections. Our kids can’t read. People are dying from preventable diseases of every kind in our country. Children go hungry. Parents have lost control. Families are starved for peace.
And we’re worried about Tiger Woods' dalliances?
God help us all.
All of what I wrote then is still true. I don’t know a thing about the people we’re supposed to be interested in. Among the boats I’ve missed: Jon & Kate, Gossip Girl, Twilight, most reality TV and the Kardashians (will someone please tell me what these people are famous for?)
I don’t actually care whether Jennifer Aniston is worried she’ll never marry again, or that Suri Cruise wears high heels. I wouldn’t know Rhianna or Chris Brown if I tripped over either of them. And I’ve never seen a single episode of Grey’s Anatomy, 30 Rock, Biggest Loser, How I Met Your Mother, The Office or Dancing with the Stars. (Relax. Really. I'm getting along just fine.)
What’s more, I’ve developed a real distaste for celebrity news, a real disdain for those who gather it and some real disgust for those who consume it.
I’ve come to hate what I used to be. The last straw was Tiger Woods.
For the love of everything holy, people. He cheated on his wife. Maybe a lot. Maybe more than a lot. And it’s STILL none of my business.
He’s not a public servant. He’s a public figure. An athlete. A golfer. What he owes his fans, his sponsors, the sport and this world is his very best effort on the golf course. Period.
If he were cheating at golf, that would be my business. That he’s cheating on his wife is HER business.
For days, he dodged questions from reporters and cops. He owed neither an explanation. I don’t blame him for clamming up. He has more important things to tend to — like his marriage and his family.
The poking and prodding continued, relentless in its pursuit of the truth, despite the fact that no one is owed the truth but the woman he married.
He didn’t answer. That brought up more questions. Then he gave a non-answer. That really drove ’em crazy. Finally, after three women with whom he apparently had consensual sex came forward — along with their attorneys — to quiet our raging hunger for every morsel of detail, he issued an apology and then told us it’s none of our business.
Having once been married to a scratch golfer, I can say without hesitation that I hate golf. I don’t mind golfers, except when they talk about golf, which I hate.
I have never had a feeling one way or the other, though, about Tiger Woods the man. He’s a magnificent athlete, magical to watch. It appears he’s also a cad. Maybe worse.
And still, it’s none of my business.
Last night, the president of our country gave a game-changer of a speech about Afghanistan. Our health care system is a shambles. Our planet is a mess. Our political parties delight in ruining lives. Our best leaders won’t even get into the game for fear we’ll pounce on their imperfections. Our kids can’t read. People are dying from preventable diseases of every kind in our country. Children go hungry. Parents have lost control. Families are starved for peace.
And we’re worried about Tiger Woods' dalliances?
God help us all.
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