I spent the afternoon watching the memorial service for Michael Jackson. It was a celebration of his life and thousands waited in line to find their place at this moment in history. Millions more were glued to their televisions as friends performed his music, unfolded favorite memories and inspired all of us to remember the best of what was the phenomenon known as Michael Jackson. Personally, I was touched by the poem from Maya Angelou. Later in the afternoon, while looking for the poem online I ran into a hateful blog by Dallas Morning News columnist, Ron Dreher, that demonized Michael and everything that occurred at this event. I had to ask why--in his comment section--not once but twice. I was irritated and annoyed that he wrote this column as a right wing Conservative Christian and he and his blog followers made comments that vilified Michael and those who would celebrate his life as if they were speaking for all Christians. He did not speak for me and judging by the rest of the material that appeared later today in his blog he most certainly never will. Let us not forget in the hours of television footage about Michael, that more than an entertainer of millions, he was a son, a brother, a father, a friend.
Michael Jackson was an icon, plain and simple. I remember clearly when Michael's song Ben, replaced Hey Jude in the number one spot of my mother's top ten list. It didn't matter how old you were, his music affected you, made you happy, sad, reflective, excited, wanting to get up and dance. My daughter quantified events in her life by releases of Thriller, Billie Jean and Bad music videos. They were, after all, events.
Two of his friends, Brooke Shields and Magic Johnson, delivered the most poignant stories. They were snapshots of a man who could have fun, laugh, enjoy his friends, his family, his children outside the glare of public life. In the countless hours of interviews that Michael did with Martin Brashears for ABC, his innocence was apparent. He repeated often, how shy he was off stage. His life from age 5 was performing. He did it well and was most comfortable when in front of an audience. It was evident that Michael truly was Peter Pan--the boy who never grew up.Was this the tragic flaw of Michael Jackson--wanting his lost childhood to last forever?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Judy Blume
Those of you who know me, know that a writing idol of mine is Judy Blume. I regularly read her blog here at blogspot. In fact it is in my list of blogs. If you've never read her blog, take a moment and read her current post. She's a great writer and this post may give most of you--I am thinking Texans here--a reason to rethink NYC as a den of iniquity.
Big City Saga
Big City Saga
July 2, 2009
Here we are, just two days until the fabulous 4th. I love what the holiday stands for, although I detest fireworks. Not that their beauty and magic goes unnoticed by me, but the noise--I am not a loud noise person. I think that comes from years as an only child in a very quiet household.
Today, I would just rather write about July 4th and what it stands for with all its pomp and circumstance; along with the facts and fiction that surround it. Let's start at the beginning. The Second Continental Congress approved a resolution of independence in a closed session on July 2, 1776. The Declaration was written by Thomas Jefferson. He sought the editorial voice of both Benjamin Franklin and John Adams "because they were the two members of whose judgments and amendments I wished most to have the benefit." Ironically, both Jefferson and Adams died on July 4, 1826.
July 4, 1776, the Congress officially adopts the document and John Dunlap prints multiple copies. Twenty four of these "Dunlap broadsides" are known to exist. Copies of the document are sent to the New Jersey and Delaware legislatures. The declaration is read publicly in Philadelphia as well as to the American Army in New York. On July 19, 1776, The Second Continental Congress orders the document to be engrossed--which means officially inscribed--and the signing begins on August 2. It isn't until January 18, 1777, that the Congress, now meeting in Baltimore, Maryland, orders copies of the signed document be printed and sent to the various colonies. I think it is a remarkable history lesson for our children that things did not happen instantaneously as they do today--no email, fax, cell phone or facebook transmissions of news. Simply men on horseback passing the document and the word. My home state of Pennsylvania had the largest number of signers of the Declaration, 9, although only three of them have any strong name recognition. They were Benjamin Franklin, Robert Morse and Dr. Benjamin Rush. Maybe those names only had meaning to me as a Pennsylvania school girl. The other six were George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, John Morton, George Ross and James Wilson. Of note is Robert Treat Paine, a signer from Massachusetts, who descends from the same Paine ancestors as me.
The holiday has been celebrated continuously in various parts of the US, but wasn't officially called Independence Day until 1791. The longest continual celebration by parade occurs in Bristol, Rhode Island. The parade has been held every July 4 since 1785. Fireworks have been part of the celebration of the fourth since 1777. Even hotdog eating became part of the celebration when Nathan's Hotdogs on Coney Island began their hotdog eating contest in 1919 as a way for four immigrants to decide who among them was the most patriotic. Perhaps that is one of the reasons we include hotdogs in the "baseball, apple pie and hotdogs" statement of American tradition.
My sources for this blog were Wikipedia and The Declaration of Independence site from ushistory.org.
Today, I would just rather write about July 4th and what it stands for with all its pomp and circumstance; along with the facts and fiction that surround it. Let's start at the beginning. The Second Continental Congress approved a resolution of independence in a closed session on July 2, 1776. The Declaration was written by Thomas Jefferson. He sought the editorial voice of both Benjamin Franklin and John Adams "because they were the two members of whose judgments and amendments I wished most to have the benefit." Ironically, both Jefferson and Adams died on July 4, 1826.
July 4, 1776, the Congress officially adopts the document and John Dunlap prints multiple copies. Twenty four of these "Dunlap broadsides" are known to exist. Copies of the document are sent to the New Jersey and Delaware legislatures. The declaration is read publicly in Philadelphia as well as to the American Army in New York. On July 19, 1776, The Second Continental Congress orders the document to be engrossed--which means officially inscribed--and the signing begins on August 2. It isn't until January 18, 1777, that the Congress, now meeting in Baltimore, Maryland, orders copies of the signed document be printed and sent to the various colonies. I think it is a remarkable history lesson for our children that things did not happen instantaneously as they do today--no email, fax, cell phone or facebook transmissions of news. Simply men on horseback passing the document and the word. My home state of Pennsylvania had the largest number of signers of the Declaration, 9, although only three of them have any strong name recognition. They were Benjamin Franklin, Robert Morse and Dr. Benjamin Rush. Maybe those names only had meaning to me as a Pennsylvania school girl. The other six were George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, John Morton, George Ross and James Wilson. Of note is Robert Treat Paine, a signer from Massachusetts, who descends from the same Paine ancestors as me.
The holiday has been celebrated continuously in various parts of the US, but wasn't officially called Independence Day until 1791. The longest continual celebration by parade occurs in Bristol, Rhode Island. The parade has been held every July 4 since 1785. Fireworks have been part of the celebration of the fourth since 1777. Even hotdog eating became part of the celebration when Nathan's Hotdogs on Coney Island began their hotdog eating contest in 1919 as a way for four immigrants to decide who among them was the most patriotic. Perhaps that is one of the reasons we include hotdogs in the "baseball, apple pie and hotdogs" statement of American tradition.
My sources for this blog were Wikipedia and The Declaration of Independence site from ushistory.org.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
T-Ball is over!
Sadly, Dylan's team did not make it to the end of the tournament. I am sure the boys would have liked to play to the end, but I am not sure the parents and grandparents could have taken it, considering the current heat wave that is covering north Texas. Tuesday evening I sat through two games the Astros played, starting at 5:45 PM for warm-up, through the end of the second game at about 9:50 PM. The temperature hovered at around 100 degrees during the four hour period. We were all hot, tired and irritable when we got home. Dylan was up until almost midnight trying to wind down from the evening's events. He awoke about 3 AM suffering from a bad dream and kept his mommy up for about three hours. He finally fell back to sleep around 6 AM and then slept until 1:15 PM.
The bad dream episode was probably attributable to our gardening episode the previous day. We had our front beds cleaned out and weeded so we could expand them and plant some new foliage. When we went out to inspect them, we discovered a small green garter snake in the barren bed. I think that event coupled with an overtired little boy provided fertile ground for some big, snaky dreams.
The bad dream episode was probably attributable to our gardening episode the previous day. We had our front beds cleaned out and weeded so we could expand them and plant some new foliage. When we went out to inspect them, we discovered a small green garter snake in the barren bed. I think that event coupled with an overtired little boy provided fertile ground for some big, snaky dreams.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Potpourri
I have been absent from my blog for some time. Life has been hectic, with the school year rapidly coming to an end and Dylan playing T-ball games two or three times a week. I spent all day yesterday in Mesquite watching him play. T-ball has been a mixed blessing. I think Dylan likes to play, but I am sometimes appalled at the adult behavior I see exhibited at games. What ever happened to good sportsmanship and trying your best. It seems that these days coaches are only interested in winning at any cost, including berating the kids, yelling at them, yelling at the umps, starting arguments with the opposing team coaches.
I can't believe that Dylan's first year of school will be over in four days. He will be a big first grader next year.The end of the school year is always hectic in the library, tracking down lost and overdue books, collecting payments for damaged ones. I am down to four students which is a good place to be as we start the last week of classes. Now I just have to finish packing up my stuff to keep it safe and relatively dust-free over the summer.Our first year at La Villita Elementary was a memorable one, making new friends, breaking in a brand new building, building memories for ourselves and the children we serve.
Summer is almost here. For the first time in almost ten years I will not be working summer school. I am looking forward to spending time at home, cleaning my house, reading up a storm, playing with Dylan, going on some short "field trips," and generally just having fun. And perhaps, maybe I won't be so neglectful of my blog!!!
I can't believe that Dylan's first year of school will be over in four days. He will be a big first grader next year.The end of the school year is always hectic in the library, tracking down lost and overdue books, collecting payments for damaged ones. I am down to four students which is a good place to be as we start the last week of classes. Now I just have to finish packing up my stuff to keep it safe and relatively dust-free over the summer.Our first year at La Villita Elementary was a memorable one, making new friends, breaking in a brand new building, building memories for ourselves and the children we serve.
Summer is almost here. For the first time in almost ten years I will not be working summer school. I am looking forward to spending time at home, cleaning my house, reading up a storm, playing with Dylan, going on some short "field trips," and generally just having fun. And perhaps, maybe I won't be so neglectful of my blog!!!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
My Mother
Yesterday would have been my mother's 83rd birthday. I was just a little melancholy thinking about all the time I've been without her. I had just turned 24 when she died. She never had the opportunity to meet my two children. I never had the opportunity to ask so many of the questions that I've wondered about through my parenting. I've been without her longer than I had her with me, 35 years.
It got me thinking how much I miss having a big family. Maybe miss isn't the right word, since you can't really miss what you've never had, but I know that I am just a bit envious of close knit, large families. For example, on a day like yesterday, it would have been nice to have a sister--or even a brother to call and converse about the good ol' days, tell a "mom" story or two and feel better because you share the same memories of days gone by. Of course, these wished for siblings would also be there to share the good times too. You know, you call them when you've gotten a promotion, when your child or grandchild hits a home run, or maybe just when you've had a wonderful day that you want to share with someone you love.
My own two children really missed the opportunity of growing up close to their cousins. By the time they were 10 and 5, we lived in Ohio and Bob's three brothers and parents lived in Pennsylvania and Maryland. Even though there were 11 cousins, spanning about 18 years, they are not close. Then we moved to Texas in 1991 and we rarely saw other members of the Phillips clan. When Bob and I divorced in 1994, the distance seemed to grow even larger. That was a difficult time for me and I was lucky that I had cousins who are very close and who helped me to get through it, thank you Bob and Kathy for that. I think we should be siblings not cousins. ;-)
My daughter occasionally gets back east to visit but Evan hasn't been back east in at least ten years. He is definitely the black sheep of the family but certainly not entirely of his own choice.
It got me thinking how much I miss having a big family. Maybe miss isn't the right word, since you can't really miss what you've never had, but I know that I am just a bit envious of close knit, large families. For example, on a day like yesterday, it would have been nice to have a sister--or even a brother to call and converse about the good ol' days, tell a "mom" story or two and feel better because you share the same memories of days gone by. Of course, these wished for siblings would also be there to share the good times too. You know, you call them when you've gotten a promotion, when your child or grandchild hits a home run, or maybe just when you've had a wonderful day that you want to share with someone you love.
My own two children really missed the opportunity of growing up close to their cousins. By the time they were 10 and 5, we lived in Ohio and Bob's three brothers and parents lived in Pennsylvania and Maryland. Even though there were 11 cousins, spanning about 18 years, they are not close. Then we moved to Texas in 1991 and we rarely saw other members of the Phillips clan. When Bob and I divorced in 1994, the distance seemed to grow even larger. That was a difficult time for me and I was lucky that I had cousins who are very close and who helped me to get through it, thank you Bob and Kathy for that. I think we should be siblings not cousins. ;-)
My daughter occasionally gets back east to visit but Evan hasn't been back east in at least ten years. He is definitely the black sheep of the family but certainly not entirely of his own choice.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Houston, Houston, I've been to Houston
Finally the load is lifted and I can proudly say that I have been to the fourth largest city in the US, and the largest city in Texas. It only took me 18 years. I arrived in Texas in 1991 but just haven't had a reason to go to Houston until now. I must say, I was impressed. Thankful that it wasn't the middle of summer with simmering humidity, I was able to walk downtown to shopping, the convention center, and several outstanding restaurants. I don't think Dallas has done as good a job in providing visiting conventioneers with activities, hotels and restaurants in close enough proximity to the convention center. It's sad to hear the current opposition to the convention hotel being proposed. Bringing tourists and conventioneers to Dallas is good for everybody.
The past week I attended the Texas Library Association annual conference. It is exceeded in size only by the American Library Association Conference and the excitement is invigorating. I arrived on Monday evening and had just a small case of butterflies as I was presenting at the preconference on Tuesday. Once that was over--and which thankfully went very well, I relaxed and enjoyed thoroughly the rest of the conference.
I had the opportunity to hear Paula Poundstone and Gloria Steinem speak and both were excellent. One kept us laughing for almost an hour, the other reminded us of the progress we've made as women and the journey we have yet to travel. I have to say that while I enjoyed Paula, I was in awe of Gloria.
As a young adult, my life was changed by her words and actions and those of other members of the women's movement. I began to believe that I truly could be an independent person and do anything I chose to do. Her message encouraged me to put off having a family until I secured my education, getting a masters degree before my daughter was born. Those of us who chose families and careers rallied against the stereo-typical cries of men who would have us uneducated and home and baby bound. I can remember socially being questioned by men who asked why I worked and told me I couldn't be a good mother and a working women. My response was always that it was a difficult path, but that my spouse was also a parent and with his help, it was very possible to be both good parents and wonderful role models for our children. They saw that both of their parents had value outside the home, both could make daily decisions and affect the lives of others, both could come home to make dinner, read stories, give baths, and tuck in children. While my husband at the time still fought doing a lot of domestic chores, he certainly did contribute to the raising of our children, particularly our daughter.
To give you a little perspective on how far we have come, in 1966 when I was considering my college options, I could not apply to Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Brown, Dartmouth or Amherst. Closer to my home in northeastern Pennsylvania, I could not attend Lehigh or Lafayette or even the University of Scranton in my hometown. These are just a few of the many universities who had not yet seen the wisdom of admitting women to their undergraduate program. Ms. Steinhem attended Smith College, one of the seven sisters, because none of the Ivy League schools were admitting women at that time. Gloria was quick to point out that we still have a long way to go. Jobs are still pigeon-holed, not by the nature of the work but by the people who do the job. For example, parking lot attendents still make more than child care workers, not because we value our cars more than our children but because one job is done by men, the other largely by women.
As happy as I was to visit Houston and enjoy its hospitality, I am even happier to be home. I am looking forward to the last seven weeks of school.
The past week I attended the Texas Library Association annual conference. It is exceeded in size only by the American Library Association Conference and the excitement is invigorating. I arrived on Monday evening and had just a small case of butterflies as I was presenting at the preconference on Tuesday. Once that was over--and which thankfully went very well, I relaxed and enjoyed thoroughly the rest of the conference.
I had the opportunity to hear Paula Poundstone and Gloria Steinem speak and both were excellent. One kept us laughing for almost an hour, the other reminded us of the progress we've made as women and the journey we have yet to travel. I have to say that while I enjoyed Paula, I was in awe of Gloria.
As a young adult, my life was changed by her words and actions and those of other members of the women's movement. I began to believe that I truly could be an independent person and do anything I chose to do. Her message encouraged me to put off having a family until I secured my education, getting a masters degree before my daughter was born. Those of us who chose families and careers rallied against the stereo-typical cries of men who would have us uneducated and home and baby bound. I can remember socially being questioned by men who asked why I worked and told me I couldn't be a good mother and a working women. My response was always that it was a difficult path, but that my spouse was also a parent and with his help, it was very possible to be both good parents and wonderful role models for our children. They saw that both of their parents had value outside the home, both could make daily decisions and affect the lives of others, both could come home to make dinner, read stories, give baths, and tuck in children. While my husband at the time still fought doing a lot of domestic chores, he certainly did contribute to the raising of our children, particularly our daughter.
To give you a little perspective on how far we have come, in 1966 when I was considering my college options, I could not apply to Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Brown, Dartmouth or Amherst. Closer to my home in northeastern Pennsylvania, I could not attend Lehigh or Lafayette or even the University of Scranton in my hometown. These are just a few of the many universities who had not yet seen the wisdom of admitting women to their undergraduate program. Ms. Steinhem attended Smith College, one of the seven sisters, because none of the Ivy League schools were admitting women at that time. Gloria was quick to point out that we still have a long way to go. Jobs are still pigeon-holed, not by the nature of the work but by the people who do the job. For example, parking lot attendents still make more than child care workers, not because we value our cars more than our children but because one job is done by men, the other largely by women.
As happy as I was to visit Houston and enjoy its hospitality, I am even happier to be home. I am looking forward to the last seven weeks of school.
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