kimsch here. Kate’s going to be taking a couple of days off to deal with what she has to deal with. She wants to thank you all for your support. It means a lot to her.
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Last week I mentioned that I was about as stressed out as I could bear. Little did I know that the stress had only just begun.
I mentioned earlier this year that my mother was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer. She’d had surgery to remove the lemon-sized tumor and has been going through chemotherapy for the past 12 weeks. Tomorrow is her final chemo round — we hope — and she seems to be doing quite well.
My father-in-law, meanwhile, has been battling kidney cancer for years. On 9/11 he was in surgery having a kidney removed. Until earlier this year he’d been in remission, but then the doctors found some “spots” had returned. He, too, began chemo treatments. Unlike my mother’s, which were administered via a pump worn in a fanny pack for 3 days at a time and tied into a port embedded in her chest, my father-in-law’s have been via pill form.
Last month when we visited he was in an enormous amount of pain. Most of the discomfort was situated in his upper abdomen and, according to the doctors, had to do with chemo side effects. They gave him lidocaine for the pain and did a CT scan using a lower level dye that was supposed to be gentle on his one remaining kidney. Seven weeks ago they said he was “all clear” aside from the “spots” we knew about. Spots they said they’d monitor, but didn’t see as threatening.
In mid-July he began having problems breathing. He couldn’t eat an entire meal without feeling nauseous. He was exhausted. His skin hard turned yellow, an apparent side-effect of one of the chemo drugs. He’d lost a dramatic amount of weight in the 2 short months since we last saw him.
Last week my father-in-law, one of the most kind-hearted and yet quiet men I’ve ever met in my life, went in for an endoscopy. They found a 3-inch tumor in his esophagus. Yes, he used to smoke but he quit over 40 years ago. He hasn’t drunk a drop of liquor in well over 50 years. He had none of the standard lifestyle triggers for esophageal cancer.
On Thursday, that’s what they diagnosed him with. A PET scan was scheduled and he was admitted to the hospital. On Friday a “family meeting” was held. My husband couldn’t be there but, since the man listened to me for once, I’d booked a flight for him to get to Minnesota to be with his family over the weekend.
Back when J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series, wrote the Tales of Beedle the Bard only a limited number of copies were available. Seven, to be precise. Amazon quickly snapped up one of the copies for a cool $3.8 million, perhaps in anticipation of today’s news: Beedle will be released to the general public.
As of today, you can pre-order a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard. The collector’s edition sounds a Potter fan’s wet dream:
• All five fairy tales from the original The Tales of Beedle the Bard
• Outer case disguised as a wizarding textbook from the Hogwarts library
• Exclusive reproduction of J.K. Rowling’s handwritten introduction
• 10 new illustrations by J.K. Rowling not included in the Standard Edition or the original handcrafted edition
• Velvet bag embroidered with J.K. Rowling’s signature
• Metal skull, corners, and clasp
• Replica gemstones
• Emerald ribbon
And did I mention that in addition to containing Rowling’s initial illustrations it’s also extensively footnoted by Albus Dumbledore?
Seattle seems determined to convince everyone that it’s nickname “The Emerald City” really means it’s greener than thou. They’ve already switched to hybrid-powered public transportation and free curbside compost recycling, and now the city plans to implement car-free Sundays starting next month.
One problem: the news came as a bit of a surprise to businesses and residents of those “select” areas who had no idea their roads would be closed to cars from noon to 6 p.m. Restaurant owners were quick to point out that summer Sundays tend to be high-earning days, but the timing of the road closings might cost them business. Residents are of mixed opinion, with many wondering how they’d travel in the event of an emergency.
That’s not going to be a problem, according to the city’s mayor. Residents in the closed areas will be allowed to travel to/from their homes, and emergency travel will still be permitted. In the meantime he’s reminding everyone to “It’s just for one day, just chill. Get out of the car and walk.”
Initially, I read the news and felt my blood pressure jumping. How dare the government close down roads??? But then it dawned on me, well, why not? They’re the ones that put them there in the first place. Yes, residents pay taxes that get used to fund those roads but if you read the story you’ll realize the residents aren’t being deprived of the use of those roads. Those living in the neighborhood can continue to go about their regular day, while those who don’t live nearby will have to park and walk.
Big deal.
Personally, I’m an advocate of rethinking this sprawl-based culture we have. The culture that leads us to live far from where we work. The culture that places grocery stores, pharmacies and coffee shops miles away from residential clusters. The culture that moved schools out of neighborhoods, enlarging and weakening them in the process, and forced many parents to drive their kids to school. The culture that killed the corner bar.
I’ve long believed that sprawl is one of the primary reasons America is so overweight, and not just adults: sprawl is one of the reasons our kids are fat, too.
Yes, my first reaction to learning about Seattle’s green-y, tree-hugging idea to close certain city streets for a day was the typical knee-jerk reaction of any person who dislikes government interference. But then it dawned on me that for many of us, the only real exercise we get in our car-oriented lives comes from engaging in knee-jerk reactions to eco-friendly initiatives.
So what’s wrong with a city closing down a neighborhood for a day if it doesn’t deprive the area’s residents of their autonomy? Is that really a bad thing, or is it a sign that cities are beginning to realize, because their planning initiatives contributed to the problem of sprawl in the first place, it’s also their responsibility to do something to ameliorate its effects?
You know that awful shade of dark yellow that your pee turns when you’re hungover?
Folks down the street are painting their house that color.
Ew.
One thing’s pretty clear, the movie’s going to tell the story of Voldemort’s life more than the book did. Evidently, there’s a glimpse in the trailer of a movie scene that’s not in the book at all, too: an attack at the Burrow.
Four more months…
I’m about the most stressed out today that I ever have been. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any letup ahead (and, given the circumstances, I’m not sure that would be a good thing, either).
Tell me a good joke to cheer me up, will ya?
My article, “It’s Not Always About The Autism“, is up at Pajamas Media.
A bus accident that killed seven people — five of them college baseball players — and injured another 28 was caused by confusing highway signs, according to the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB).
Investigators say the bus driver, who was killed in the crash along with his wife, thought he was remaining in an HOV lane when, in fact, he’d entered a highway exit ramp. Officials blame the state’s Department of Transportation for not following federal guidelines for exit signs which require pairing them together to make them more clear.
Although Georgia officials claim they’d never received complains about the highway’s self luminous exit signs before the wreck, police records reveal that three drivers had previously had wrecks at the same location.
As a result of this accident, the NTSB is now recommending that the Federal Highway Administration take action on a proposal to require more clear, consistent signs — such as photoluminescent exit signs elsewhere around the country.
Investigators, not surprisingly, maintain the bus driver himself was at least partially at fault despite having a good record and no signs of a medical condition or fatigue. “He simply missed what route guidance was available,” they’ve said, and as a result he didn’t know to slow down as he came up the exit ramp.
Perhaps Georgia out to take a page from the Kansas DOT and go with blue signs to help drivers distinguish exits from all the other crap mentioned on highway signs?
(With all due apologies to — and a lingering guilty fondness for — the Bee Gees.)
Tellin’ You Lies
Well you can tell by the way I like to talk,
I’m a politician who doesn’t walk the walk.
That American flag on my lapel pin?
I’ll wear one now if it’ll help me win.
And now it’s all right. I say it’s OK,
Please everyone look the other way.
I don’t really understand
Why the New York Times turned against me, man.
Whether you’re a brother or someone else’s mother
I’m tellin’ you lies, tellin’ you lies.
Feel my poll lead slippin’ and all the Dems are flippin’
So I’m tellin’ you lies, tellin’ you lies.
Ah, ha, ha, HA, tellin’ you lies.
Ah, ha, ha, HA, I’m tellin’ you liiiieeeees.
Well now I used to feel low and so I got high,
Read ’bout it in my book for $7.99.
I act like the Second Coming right down to my shoes,
Long as you don’t know it’s an act I just can’t lose.
And now it’s all right. I say it’s OK,
Please everyone look the other way.
I don’t really understand
Why the New York Times turned against me, man.
Whether you’re a brother or someone else’s mother
I’m tellin’ you lies, tellin’ you lies.
Feel my poll lead slippin’ and all the Dems are flippin’
So I’m tellin’ you lies, tellin’ you lies.
Ah, ha, ha, HA, tellin’ you lies.
Ah, ha, ha, HA, I’m tellin’ you liiiieeeees.
My promises mean nothing. Pretend you don’t see.
Pretend you don’t see, yeah.
My promises mean nothing. Pretend you don’t see.
Pretend you don’t see. Tellin’ you lieeeees.
Whether you’re a brother or someone else’s mother
I’m tellin’ you lies, tellin’ you lies.
Feel my poll lead slippin’ and all the Dems are flippin’
So I’m tellin’ you lies, tellin’ you lies.
Ah, ha, ha, HA, tellin’ you lies.
Ah, ha, ha, HA, I’m tellin’ you liiiieeeees.
My promises mean nothing. Pretend you don’t see.
Pretend you don’t see, yeah.
My promises mean nothing. Pretend you don’t see.
Pretend you don’t see. Tellin’ you lieeeees.
HA, yeah!
Dems interested in watching the Obama coronation ceremony in Denver can’t just show up expecting a free seat. Oh, sure the campaign wants supporters there, but with a catch: they’ve got to earn their way.
In a half-hour interview Wednesday with The Denver Post, Obama’s deputy campaign manager, Steve Hildebrand, said he wants to use the ticketing process as a massive recruitment tool meant to bring in supporters from all 50 states and energize them to carry the campaign into the final 60 days of the general election.
“We’re going to ask those 80,000 people in that stadium to march out of there and go with very specific instructions and goals to register millions of new voters,” Hildebrand said. [...]
The Democratic National Convention Committee will work with the campaign and with state party officials to distribute the community credentials. Formulas for the states and longtime supporters and a small percentage of overflow, or standby, credentials are being worked out.
Hildebrand said that to ensure that the campaign fills the stadium, the application process becomes in and of itself a recruiting tool.
“Every single person is going to be a level of seriousness,” Hildebrand said. “You know, ‘Tell us how you’re going to get there from Maine. Tell us how you’re going to get there from Florida. Give us a sense of whether or not you’re really serious about this. If you’re not, we’re going to provide someone else with this.’ ”
Those who want a seat will begin the process at their local Democratic Party office. While demonstrating their ability to attend, they also will be encouraged to sign on to the campaign as volunteers.
“They fill out a form; there’s a conversation,” Hildebrand said. “We ask them and encourage them to register voters and to get out the vote and those activities that are important to us. It’s not a requirement, but it’s going to be an encouragement.”
Now we know what Michelle Obama meant when she said “he will make you work.” Just remember she also warned that Barack Obama “will demand you leave your homes” and “Barack will never allow you to go back to your lives as usual…”.
Welcome to the land of forced free labor. We on the right have been subjected to it for years as our incomes have been taxed to pay for all of your lame-brain Nanny State ideas. I’d recommend packing extra undies if I were you — it sounds like Obamessiah has the next 4 years of your lives pretty much planned already.
This email, written from a soldier stationed in Afghanistan during Obama’s recent visit, paints an entirely different picture of the visit than what we’re seeing in the mainstream media. It is shocking and disgusting how Sen. Obama treated the men and women serving in Afghanistan, a place where even he acknowledges we’re needed.
(Deleted per Snopes investigation.)
It’s hot outside. Hot and humid and utterly miserable, just as it has been for days and looks to be for many days in the future. It sucks.
I hate the heat. I hate humidity. I hate the way that certain wobbly parts of my body seem to sweat more than their non-wobbly counterparts. Ergo, while sitting on the deck writing this morning I decided to tuck a plastic bag filled with ice down my cleavage. (Yes, there’s plenty of room.) Lordy, that felt good.
Not a half-hour later, the doorbell rang. A friend was heading to the health food store and wanted to know if I felt l like tagging along. Out came the bag of ice, on went my shoes and sunglasses, and off we went.
Now, if you’ve ever had the experience of being a chubby woman strolling around in a health food store you’re familiar with the covert but disapproving stares of strangers. You know they’re thinking that organic food isn’t the solution: less food is. You’re familiar with feeling stupid and awkward as you stand surveying the shelves of supplements promising to speed weight loss, and the smirks of those who see you doing so. In other words, I didn’t give much thought to why everyone I passed on every aisle was looking at me and then hurriedly looking away.
Until I got home, that is.
There, thanks to that bag full of ice I’d so enjoyed previously, I saw that my t-shirt had gone almost entirely transparent from the condensation and so had my bra. But did my friend say anything? Did she point out that I was a walking one woman wet t-shirt contest? Did she suggest I change before we left the house? No, no she did not.
“Oh, I didn’t notice it,” she explained when I called her to fume over the incident. And, really, what can I do but accept her protestation of innocence?
While reviewing my receipt to compare just how much more organic fruit costs than the stuff at our local grocery store I noticed the clerk forgot to charge me for the avocados, heirloom tomatoes and cantaloupe I’d purchased.
Coincidence?
I think not.
The “Happy Flu“. I caught it from Chaz. Want to catch it? Click the “Spread it!” button and don’t say I never gave you anything.
Green activist Dan Glass attempted to Super Glue himself to Gordin Brown, the U.K.’s Prime Minister, last night. After smuggling 5 pouches of the glue in his underwear to get past security at 10 Downing Street, Glass poured the stuff over his hand during Browns’ speech. Then, at the awards ceremony, he fastened his hand to Brown’s sleeve.
“I just glued myself to him and after 20 seconds he tore my hand off - it really hurt. He had to give it a couple of tugs before it came away.
“He was just grinning about it. He didn’t seem to take me seriously.”
Afterwards, Glass was allowed to remain for the ceremony while Brown continued chuckling over the stunt. Undeterred, Glass tried to attach himself to the gates at Downing Street but was detached by a police officer. “I didn’t have much glue left”, he noted.
Sheesh. Doesn’t that crazy environmentalist know how many eco-damaging chemicals are in Super Glue?
Earlier this summer I asked for your list of “must read” books: those which a well-read person should have enjoyed at least once, books which so profoundly affected your thinking that you wouldn’t be the same person if you’d never read them. Many of you answered in the comment section, and not a day has gone by when I haven’t received an email from someone suggesting an addition to the book list.
Rather than keep that list to myself, I’ve decided to share it with you. True, it’s a bit late for those who think of reading as a summer-only past time. But if you’re like me, reading is something you do year-round — heck, I can’t even fall asleep without first spending an hour with a book.
I’ll be posting sections of the list over the next few days, beginning with today’s “Modern Fiction” recommendations. Overall, the list — which Ill post as a series — includes:
- Modern Fiction, part 1 (this entry)
- Modern Fiction, part 2
- Modern Non-Fiction
- Classic Literature
- Classic Non-Fiction
- Mysteries/Thrillers
- Biography/Memoirs
- Sci-Fi/Fantasy
- All the rest
That said, here’s Modern Fiction, part 1 of the best books you’ve ever read.
I, for one, could not possibly care less about the impending Screen Actors Guild (SAG) strike in Hollywood.
Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’d even know if SAG actually did go on strike: between our DVR, Guitar Hero III and pay-per-view on cable, we don’t even bother wasting an entire evening scrolling through the channel guide’s lineup of re-runs anymore.
Sorry, Hollywood: when the average person is tossing their sofa pillows in search of spare change to pay for gas, you aren’t going to find a whole lot of sympathy for actors faced with the “awful” possibility of wearing last-season’s D&G or Jimmy Choos.
The “Wish I Could Squish Yer Head” Caption Contest is over. The winners are:
First place: “Cut off mah nuts? Yo mamma liked mah nuts jus’ fine.” from Jim at Parkway Rest Stop.
Second place: “It’s because I’m half white, isn’t it? from Joan of Argghh.
Runner-Up: “Not another Sopranos rerun.” from Rodney Dill.
Last month, my older brother had a kidney stone removed. Since we live hundreds of miles apart, I couldn’t be at the hospital when he came out of surgery but I still wanted to let him know I was thinking about him and wished him well.
This, unfortunately, prompted a bit of a dilemma: sending a get well card seemed like too little effort, but sending a flower arrangement to a man felt strange, too. Oh, sure, I could’ve opted for a balloon bouquet or maybe one of those edible things, but both are still too girly for a manly man like my brother.
Eventually, I opted for a bonsai tree ordered from the same place where I get all of my flower arrangements and hoped he wouldn’t think it was too frou-frou. Since he has allergies, I knew to send something that wouldn’t leave him sneezing uncontrollably while trying to recover from major surgery. A plant seemed like a perfect option and, as a side benefit, a bonsai plant would give him an excuse to use some of his favorite knives in his collection to keep the thing trimmed. That’s manly, right?
While visiting my brother last month I got a chance to check out how his bonsai tree looked. Let me just say, I was impressed: not only its decorative pot of a better quality than I expected, the plant was thriving and even more lush than the picture. As for my brother, he actually got a kick out of receiving a bonsai instead of a colorful flower arrangement because it was a “manly” gift that will last far longer than a bouquet would.
Which is a good thing since he was back in surgery last week to have his sinuses drilled in the hope of alleviating some of the pressure and discomfort that have plagued him for years. Or so he tells me. Personally, I think he’s just angling for another bonsai tree so he has a matched set for his kitchen counter.
You’ve got until Friday.
