Caution! Filling is hot!

Paternalism!!

New York City's Health Commissioner is leading the charge to ban trans-fats from New York's restaurants.

I find this trend extremely annoying.

Who the heck do these guys think they are? I'm an adult. I'm reasonably healthy. I'm not overweight. My cholesterol is good. Why do "they" get to dictate what I eat?

When I was in London in June, I was amazed, then inordinately excited, then frustrated to find that the McDonald's in London have the apple pies from my childhood. Anyone reading this who is of a certain age probably knows of what I speak; the crispy deep-fried rectangular apple pie pouches that were the genesis of the warning, "Caution! Filling is hot!" (see picture.)

Decades ago, through some pressure to be politically correct, the McDonald's in the US switched to wimpy soggy baked apple pie pouches. I tried one once and haven't had another one since.

But, in London, ah, yes, in London . . . There they were, the real, the original, THE McDonald's Hot Apple Pie!! I was in London for 6 days, didn't find the pies until at least halfway through my visit and must have had a dozen before I left (ok, that might be an exaggeration but only a slight one).

Paris, no dice. McDonald's there didn't have any sort of apple pie. Too American for them??

But they all have the ubiquitous soft-serve ice cream cone.

That soft-serve ice cream cone serves multiple purposes. It's very inexpensive and oh so satisfying. In Beijing and in Seoul, it served an even more important role. When I would duck into McDonald's because they had the most reliably tolerable public restrooms, I would assuage my Catholic school girl guilt by buying an ice cream cone. Nobody ever said anything to me or questioned my use of the restrooms but still, I bought an ice cream cone; I was a paying customer.

Now, I know that there are some out there who are appalled by my willingness and even desire to frequent McDonald's when I travel. I realize that I should be ashamed of this tendency. But, you know, I'm just not. So there.

So, "they" have taken away my beloved hot apple pies and now, "they" want to deny me even more culinary pleasures. Humph!

(All of this begs an even larger question. Is it McDonald's or McDonalds? My answer is above.)

Creative Reading

There is then creative reading as well as creative writing. When the mind is braced by labor and invention, the page of whatever book we read becomes luminous with manifold allusion.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

I've always felt that one of my shortcomings was that I am not a creative person. I'm very organized, analytical, linear, i.e., very left-brained, not right-brained at all.

I've also always been a voracious reader. I've been known to check out 21 books in one day from the library and have them all read and returned, on time, 3 weeks later. You do the math.

Once, as I was bemoaning my lack of creativity, a friend insisted that, in fact, as a voracious reader, I was very creative since reading was an inherently creative activity. I half-heartedly scoffed. Reading, creative? How do you figure? And then allowed myself to be quickly persuaded.

I wanted to be creative. Creativity is an admirable quality. So, I just as quickly decided that I had bought into the whole reading as a creativity bit simply as a salve to my ego. The concept of creative reading was just some touchy-feely, new age, feel-good, hokum.

I've finally taken some time to delve into the concept some. And I'm finding myself persuaded once again, on a more substantive basis.

I give myself permission to consider myself a creative person.

**********

The Creativity of Reading Fiction

The suggestion is that while many readers are unable to consider their own reading in terms of its ‘creativity’, they nonetheless describe their subjective reading experience in ways that demonstrate a considerable level of creativity.

Birkerts (1994) describes this relationship particularly eloquently: The writer may tell us, "The mother wore a shabby…gown", but the word canisters are empty until we load them from our private reservoirs. We activate our sense memories and determine the degrees of shabbiness (p 83).

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Creative Reading

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creative reading

Reading is not a straightforward transfer of information from the mind of the writer into the reader's mind, but a fundamentally creative activity - this is what makes it possible for literary classics such as Shakespeare to give rise to an endless series of differing interpretations (often referred to as "readings" by literary critics). The creative nature of reading, however, does not mean that readers' interpretations are random or arbitrary, and it is your job as a writer to guide the process of reading by providing cues and by paying attention to the structure of your essay.

**********

Creative Reading Makes Creative Writing

I can't say it better than John F. Genung did in his text, Practical Elements of Rhetoric, in 1894. "While the reader is receptive, while he is being acted upon by what he is reading, he is at the same time originative, vigorously acting on the same subject-matter, shaping it into a new product, according to the color and capacity of his own mind." What a sentence!

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Creative Reading by Paul Grainger

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The trouble with mental catch is that the ball you throw changes in mid-air into another.

Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik, pg. 209.

Early Voting or I voted for my husband's ex-girlfriend

I voted on Friday.

Election Day is more than a week away and I'm glad to be done with it. I feel like now I can just say, "Leave me alone. You can't affect my vote. It's already cast." It's the equivalent of putting my fingers in my ears and la-la-la-ing.

I love the heading on this ad from Chicago (which is where I grew up). The ability to poke fun at oneself.

Friday, after I voted, I said to my co-workers, "Vote early." "And vote often" (quoting Al Capone). They were like, "Huh?? Vote often??" Clearly, they did not grow up in Chicago.

I understand there's some controversy over early voting. Some people don't approve. A local columnist we call Sheldon Fingerpointer, with whom I rarely agree and whom I find extremely whiny, recently implored people not to vote early. "What if something happens between now and Election Day that would change your mind?" Since I believe that to be fairly unlikely, I guess it's a risk I'm willing to accept.

According to the Christian Science Monitor and NPR, early voting is increasingly popular with the voters.

It's got my vote.

'Paris Syndrome' Leaves Japanese Tourists in Shock

Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik

I'm reading this book that I picked up at Borders a week ago on a 3 for 2 deal. I had never seen nor heard of it before but having been in Paris in June and having always fancied myself a bit of a Francophile, I found myself attracted to it.

I've been enjoying it. It's basically a series of essays about Adam's experiences living in Paris with his wife and young son.

I have to say, though, that, as far as the French, or perhaps more appropriately the Parisians, go, I am becoming less enamored the more familiar I become. While I realize this is hardly an original thought, Gopnik has really driven the point home for me.

I have demoted Paris from a place where I might be interested in living to a place that I wish I could visit frequently. That is to say that, while it still holds its attractions, the bloom is off the rose.

As I have been developing this conclusion of mine, I also came across an article which I first greeted with skepticism and disbelief. I wondered it was some sort of half-April Fool's joke (when I was in high school, we celebrated both birthdays and half-birthdays, i.e. your birthday and the day exactly six months away from your birthday).

According to 'Paris Syndrome' Leaves Japanese Tourists in Shock, which as best as I can tell is completely serious, Japanese tourists to Paris find the reality of Paris and the Parisians to be so distant from their expectations and own cultural civilities that they suffer a sort of PTSD, even requiring some of them to be hospitalized.

I too have been disillusioned but thankfully, since I'm not that delicate, I'm not ready to completely write Paris off. I just wouldn't want to live there . . .

Sunday, October 27, 2002 A.M. or The Honeymoon's Over

Sitting in Kimbe's kitchen in an ancient pueblo in Rancho de Taos, New Mexico.

After a round of picture taking, we left Wigwam Hotel #6 and proceeded eastward on Route 66. We stopped at Joe and Aggie's for some bad coffee and then left Winslow. Our next stop was Gallup, NM where we checked out El Rancho Hotel. The lobby has been beautifully renovated. Although it's not quite up to La Posada's standards, it is very nice and merits a stay.

Technically, El Rancho was not our second stop as we stopped at McDonald's for a late breakfast and restroom break.

After Gallup, we continued on to Albuquerque where we stopped by Aunt Pat's. When there was no response to our ringing of the door "chime" twice, we returned to the car to write a note. As I was placing it on her door, I heard her come into her courtyard so I rang the chime again. Not expecting anyone, she was hesitant to admit she was there but finally asked who it was. I didn't say but did tell her that a dumpling wanted to see her, at which point, very puzzled she opened the door to hugs and kisses. We didn't stay too long but did have a nice chat and she did pull out an old photo album to show Steve pre-1970 pictures. It was a nice visit and we were all glad we stopped.

We got to Taos at approximately 4:45 p.m and went over to Melissa's dad's house where we met his girlfriend, Daphne. Rene had just had some coronary stents placed so he was tired and had gone to bed. Bruce and Melissa brought us over to her stepmother's, where we stayed and then we had another spectacular dinner at the restaurant. Our visit with Bruce and Melissa was wonderful with much reminiscing and laughter.

We came back to Kimbe's and fell asleep to a beautiful fire in the kiva fireplace in the corner of the bedroom. The only sour note being awoken to loud music at 3 a.m. from the neighbor's (Sigrid?) house. After lying there a while unable to get back to sleep, I discovered that I couldn't hear the music in the living room. So I stoked the fire and laid down on the couch.

Much rain and some hail last night. We had called yesterday morning and were told that Independence Pass was still open (scheduled to close November 7) so our plan is to go that way. However, if they got any of this weather, that status could have changed or at the very least, the drive could be very interesting.

Antsy to get home. Bruce and Melissa are coming over for coffee (if we can find the coffee grinder) and then we're on our way.

Eerie cosmic coincidences?

We're all familiar with the lunacy (hence the word) which is supposed to attach to the full moon.

Is there some sort of concomitant phenomenon attached to the dark or new moon?

Aside from Tuesday being one of those days where the planets seemed generally to be out of alignment, both here in Aspen and 3195 miles away in Lahaina (and yes, I do realize that, if the planets really were out of alignment, it would naturally affect both Aspen and Lahaina), my family experienced a very specific weird cosmic coincidence involving a cultural icon (which did, however, have to be explained to my 14 year old, due to it being a rather dated cultural icon).

First, I'm in my office, talking to my staff about wishing for something (can't even remember what it was) and I start doing the Samantha nose wiggle (not that I can really do it) and the Jeannie arm fold/eye blink/head nod. No dice, but lots of laughter.

A few hours later, Rachel is watching an episode from the sixth season of Charmed, entitled "I Dream of Phoebe," and there, in all its glory, is the exterior and the interior of Jeannie's bottle. As I'm exclaiming, Rachel is puzzled. "What's 'I Dream of Jeannie'?" So, I try to explain that it involved an astronaut who finds a genie's bottle on the beach in Florida. I finish with the fact that the astronaut was played by Larry Hagman, which, of course, means nothing to her.

Minutes, and I literally mean less than five minutes later, I call Steve, who answers the phone, "Larry Hagman!" I made him repeat it four times. He's still not sure what made him say it.

What the heck is that all about?????

Friday, October 25, 2002 P.M.

Sitting in bed in Wigwam #12 on Route 66 in Holbrook, Arizona.

Last night was beautiful with a large almost full harvest moon shining on us all night. I did not, however, sleep very well due to a very annoying little bug that insisted on buzzing around my ears all night.

We did have a gorgeous sunrise this morning with the sun reflecting orange and pink off the cirrus clouds. We got up and were quickly packed and on our way. We went back to Oatman, walked around and saw some more wild burros. Everything was closed but some of the locals were about, starting their morning routines.

We left Oatman and continued our Route 66 eastward trek. We drove through Kingman and on to Seligman where we saw Juan at the Snow Cap and his brother, Angel, at the barber shop. We hung around an extra 45 minutes so Steve could get an authentic Angel Delgadillo haircut. The Delgadillo's are such friendly people, so well suited to the roles they have adopted. We also stopped at Roy's in Amboy and the Hackberry General Store. The Route 66 thing really is an entire culture. Angel told us that more and more people are coming back and they're doing pretty well.

We stopped in Williams to take a picture of the sign with our last name on it. We drove through Flagstaff, taking the detours to drive as much of 66 as possible.

We got off the interstate at Twin Arrows but the entire parking lot was blocked off so we didn't stop. We did stop at Two Guns and explore some amazing ruins that were accessible by an old bridge which must have once carried Route 66 traffic. Now it's dirt covered, cracked and in a charming state of disrepair. The ruins were quite extensive and reminded both of us of Mary Colter's architecture. There was at least one building that resembled her watchtower and a number of kiva like structures. I'd love to know who built them and why. There was another building that had housed mountain lions as a kind of zoo. It was all quite fascinating and photogenic.

After Two Guns, we continued on to Winslow where we toured and ate dinner at La Posada. It was very good and fairly reasonable. I had the halibut and Steve had the pork carnitas. With tax, tip, wine and dessery, dinner came to $71. We would have liked to have stayed there but it was sold out due to the re-opening of the Rialto Theater and the Inaugural Winslow Film Fest.

So we continued on to Holbrook where we were just in time to get a Wigwam. The proprietor is the son of the original owner and it was a bit of an eerie, surreal encounter. He was very solicitous and just a bit off. The office doesn't open until 3 in the afternoon and he closed around 9 p.m. We rolled in just before 9. He gave us a room key and had us inspect the room before renting it to us, also providing us with instructions on how to work everything and on what the layout was. He also mentioned a couple of times that the Wigwams were on the National Historic Registry. They were very well maintained and comfortable in a dated funky way.

Tomorrow we're going to Taos to see Bruce and Melissa who are visiting Melissa's dad there. We might also stop in Albuquerque to see Aunt Pat.

Oh boy, a train is going by and the bed is shaking. Whistles and vibrations all night long!

Influential, yet fictional

I was in Borders the other day and I chanced upon this book. The premise seemed intriguing; a twist on the usual influential people list. In the next couple of days, I stumbled across on the internet and then on AOL's sign-in screen.

I have to admit, I had to look up #25, #54 (I'm a bit chagrined that I didn't recognize this one), #90 (I have no familiarity with this one; probably due to the genre), #92 and #99 (I'm a bit puzzled by the inclusion of this one;perhaps if I had bought the book, I wouldn't be).

Influential people list

The 101 most influential people who never lived:

IMAGINARY LUMINARIES:

Famous, yet fictional

1. The Marlboro Man

2. Big Brother

3. King Arthur

4. Santa Claus (St. Nick)

5. Hamlet

6. Dr. Frankenstein's Monster

7. Siegfried

8. Sherlock Holmes

9. Romeo and Juliet

10. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

11. Uncle Tom

12. Robin Hood

13. Jim Crow

14. Oedipus

15. Lady Chatterly

16. Ebenezer Scrooge

17. Don Quixote

18. Mickey Mouse

19. The American Cowboy

20. Prince Charming

21. Smokey Bear

22. Robinson Crusoe

23. Apollo and Dionysus

24. Odysseus

25. Nora Helmer

26. Cinderella

27. Shylock

28. Rosie the Riveter

29. Midas

30. Hester Prynne

31. The Little Engine That Could

32. Archie Bunker

33. Dracula

34. Alice in Wonderland

35. Citizen Kane

36. Faust

37. Figaro

38. Godzilla

39. Mary Richards

40. Don Juan

41. Bambi

42. William Tell

43. Barbie

44. Buffy the Vampire Slayer

45. Venus and Cupid

46. Prometheus

47. Pandora

48. G.I. Joe

49. Tarzan

50. Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock

51. James Bond

52. Hansel and Gretel

53. Captain Ahab

54. Richard Blaine

55. The Ugly Duckling

56. Loch Ness Monster (Nessie)

57. Atticus Finch

58. Saint Valentine

59. Helen of Troy

60. Batman

61. Uncle Sam

62. Nancy Drew

63. J.R. Ewing

64. Superman

65. Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn

66. HAL 9000

67. Kermit the Frog

68. Sam Spade

69. The Pied Piper

70. Peter Pan

71. Hiawatha

72. Othello

73. The Little Tramp

74. King Kong

75. Norman Bates

76. Hercules (Herakles)

77. Dick Tracy

78. Joe Camel

79. The Cat in the Hat

80. Icarus

81. Mammy

82. Sindbad

83. Amos 'n' Andy

84. Buck Rogers

85. Luke Skywalker

86. Perry Mason

87. Dr. Strangelove

88. Pygmalion

89. Madame Butterfly

90. Hans Beckert

91. Dorothy Gale

92. The Wandering Jew

93. The Great Gatsby

94. Buck (Jack London, The Call of the Wild)

95. Willy Loman

96. Betty Boop

97. Ivanhoe

98. Elmer Gantry

99. Lilith

100. John Doe

101. Paul Bunyan

Thursday, October 24, 2002 P.M.

Laying on my sleeping bag off the Oatman Hwy in the Warm Springs Wilderness near Battleship Mountain between Oatman and Kingman on the Kingman side of the Sitgreaves Pass (47 miles from Oatman).

Got out of Carpinteria at about 9:30 a.m. It seemed to take forever to get through Los Angeles so we could actually make some eastward progress. At noon, we took a slight detour into Old Pasadena to get lunch at the Pumpernickel Deli on Colorado Blvd. Good cheap sandwiches made by an older Korean couple.

We detoured on to Route 66 at Barstow and stopped in Amboy at Roy's for some pictures. It's very cool seeing the places almost frozen in time but it's sad also to think about how progress passed them by and how lives were affected.

From Amboy, we continued on to Needles and after a few turn-arounds found Route 66 again in Topock. We drove through the Havasu National Wildlife Refuge on the Oatman Highway (old Route 66), also known as the Backcountry Scenic Byway. The country around here is very rugged and jagged. Lots of cacti and barren rocky peaks. Oatman is known for its wild burros and sure enough, we saw a couple as we drove through. Oatman reminds us of a much smaller Bisbee but now that I consider it, I'd say it's actually more reminiscent of Los Cerrillos.

Tomorrow on to Kingman and Holbrook. So far, this is looking like an awesome place to camp. It is close to the road but there will probably be no traffic during the night.

Thursday, October 24, 2002 A.M.

Sitting at the dining room table in Jeff & Chris' house in Carpinteria.

We packed up the car and got out of the house at approximately 1 p.m. Both starving, we headed straight for Jerry's Famous Deli where the choices stretched on and on. From there, we drove down to Santa Monica to see the pier. It was a bit of a disappointment, kind of tawdry and seedy. We discussed the differences between it and Navy Pier in Chicago. What makes one work and the other not?

We walked around Santa Monica, up and down the Third Street Promenade. Some great book and music stores and a cool old movie house, but incredible numbers of homeless, a lot really young too. It's quite the dilemma. The big young guy flipping his butterfly knife open and closed definitely added to the urban gritty feel of the place. It was rather schizophrenic, what with the nice stores and the seeming hordes of homeless sitting outside them.

Since we spent too much time walking the Promenade, we drove down to Venice Beach rather than walking. I really would have liked to have walked it but maybe next time. Venice Beach, while definitely more vibrant than the Santa Monica Pier, was every bit as seedy. At that point, I was tired, cold and a bit uncomfortable with where we had left the car, so I was ready to head up to Santa Barbara. There was one good bookstore tucked behind a sidewalk bar called Small World Books. Seemingly out of place but Steve and I have decided that the absence or presence of a bookstore and the type of bookstore say a lot about a place. A redeeming quality of Venice Beach?

We drove up the coast on Pacific Coast Highway which at first appeared to be a mistake but then opened up and moved along nicely. Funky little communities. The detour we hit in Oxnard just after dark was a pain in the ass.

Got here, watched a couple of innings of Game 4 (of which I have no specific recollection, being brain dead at the time), then went for a spectacular dinner at Lucky's in Montecito.

Trying to get to Oatman, Arizona tonight. Bypassing the scenic route for the more direct. I'm disappointed that we won't be going through Ojai but am totally on board with the wisdom of the decision.

Wednesday, October 23, 2002 A.M.

Sitting at the rotating kidney shaped breakfast table in Jeff & Chris' house in Encino.

We did get up and out for breakfast yesterday. In fact, we were at Joe's Place a good fifteen minutes before it opened. Nevermind the fact that it opened at least fifteen minutes late. After breakfast, we walked around Avalon for a bit. We went back up to the Pueblo, hung out on the patio, packed and checked out. We walked down to the Casino and hung out in the museum for almost an hour until it was time to go to the heliport. I am enchanted by the Catalina tile. It provides the most interesting, decorative touches all over Avalon.

The helicopter ride back was great, so quick and for whatever reason, not motion sickness inducing. We got the car, got gas and got on the freeway without a hitch.

We stopped at the Getty Center and O.D.'d on people. We went to see the Dorothea Lange exhibit which was quite intriguing. The center itself is something else and Steve and I both preferred the cacti garden to the Center Garden. I keep trying to figure out if Dorothea Lange could have been the photographer who took the pictures of Dad and his brothers in Vaughn.

After the Getty, we came back here and hung out. We had delivery from Rosti's and watched Game 3 of the World Series, Anaheim beating San Francisco to go up 2-1.

This morning, Chris and I went for a walk in the Santa Monica Mountains Conservancy Area overlooking Sepulveda Canyon. We haven't seen much of the sun in the past few days but during our walk, it cleared nicely for a while. It was goot to visit with the sun. The views were cool with hills rolling away beneath us into the mist. Chris was saying that when it's clear, the view is spectacular by which she probably meant long vistas. While I would have loved to have seen that, the views we had were good in their own less dramatic way.

Today, we plan to go to the Santa Monica Pier and then up to Carpinteria, heading east tomorrow.

Started my book club book yesterday afternoon and the first paragraph (first chapter) takes place in Avalon.

Consumerism & Sustainable Philanthropy

Costco is to Sam's Club as Target is to Walmart.

When I first moved here, the closest Target was 2 1/2 hours away. (Walmart was "only" 45 minutes away.) I moved from an area where I had two Targets within a 10 minute drive.

The closest warehouse club was also 2 1/2 hours away and it was just a Sam's Club.

How things have changed in 7+ years!

Now, not only do we have a Target (and a Bed, Bath and Beyond and a Lowes) 45 minutes away but, as of Friday, we also have a Costco 1 1/4 hours away.

It is insane how inordinately happy this fact has made me.

Grand Opening was yesterday but Rachel and I took the big gamble and drove down there on Friday to see if it was open early. As we were nearing it, I could see a huge number of cars in the parking lot and then, cars at the gas pumps. I got giggly excited. Rachel thought I was nuts. But she was excited too.

I am a consumer at heart.

Speaking of which, I just (remember I have no TV and I don't live in a major metropolitan area) caught wind of Bono and Bobby Shriver's (PRODUCT) RED deal. It's a innovative way to capitalize on the conflict between our desire to consume and our guilt about doing so. A $10 contribution per $200 iPod Nano purchase seems pretty lame until you factor in the number of Nano's Apple sells.

I'll admit, I want something (RED).

Want this badge?

Monday, October 21, 2002 P.M.

Sitting in the Zane Grey Pueblo in the Call of the Canyon Room overlooking Avalon Harbor and the Casino.

We did get a pretty early start this morning. Our own personal roosters, I mean ravens, gave us a wake-up call at 7:30 a.m. Instead of Paradise Cove, Steve named our campsite, Pair of Eyes Cove.

We got packed up relatively quickly and were on our way by 9:15 a.m. We saw a couple of sea lions swim by before we were barely out of bed and that set the tone for the day. Although the weather was kind of blah, with overcast skies, we saw quite a few sea lions and even saw a bald eagle when we stopped for lunch at Willow Cove.

Our going at first was quite pleasant. We both really enjoyed being out so early. The wind started to pick up and I felt like I was expending every bit of energy fighting the current. We got to Long's Point and felt like we still had a really long way to go. But once we stopped at Willow Cove and had something to eat, the rest of the trip went really quickly. I was quite surprised when I came around what I thought was just another rock and the Casino came into view.

We did take time fairly early to go into a cave that Randy & Ron had pointed out to Steve. It was very cool, kinda scary going in but well worth it. It was big too, with enough room for both Steve and me, in our kayaks and able to turn around.

After checking in here and getting showers, we walked into Avalon. We both really like all the cute little houses and all the great tile work. We shopped a bit, Steve lost me when he went to have a beer and we had a great dinner at Armstrong's, sitting right on the water. We walked over to the Casino to check it out but it was all locked up.

We've got big plans for tomorrow. We're going to get up and be at Joe's at 6 a.m. for breakfast, then come back here to check out. We're going to go to the museum and art gallery at the Casino at 10 a.m. and check in for our 11:20 a.m. helicopter flight at 10:50 a.m. Then we want to stop at the Getty on the way back to Chris and Jeff's.

Sunday, October 20, 2002 mid-afternoon

Sitting on a rock at Paradise Cove, watching the surf roll in and out. It's our last night camping and our second to last night on Catalina.

We took our time getting up and out yesterday morning. We thought we had used up all the firewood the night before but when I got up, I found 3 more bundles. The coals from the night before were still hot and it didn't take long for me to get the fire roaring again. By the time we ate, packed up and loaded up the boats, it was almost noon.

We had found a spot up off the beach for the tent but decided to bring the sleeping bags and pads down to the beach to sleep. The moon was almost full and it was partly cloudy so we didn't see too many stars but being near the water was nice.

Kayaking to Two Harbors, we saw a half dozen sea lions. They're very curious and come pretty close to check us out. We had a tailwind all the way to Two Harbors so we made good time, arriving there around 1:30 p.m. We stopped along the way to paddle through Perdition Cave. It was beautiful with streaks of pink granite lacing the walls and ceiling. I got through almost the whole thing without a hitch until the last turn. I got on the wrong side of a rock and the current turned me around backwards but I managed to back out and swing around. There was something nasy floating in the kelp bed but I looked the other way and paddled away as fast as I could, so I have no idea what it was.

Coming into Two Harbors was cool. The water was calm and it was fun paddling between all the boats. Two Harbors itself, while nowhere near as touristy as Avalon, is much more of a tourist trap. They know they have the only game in town and they charge accordingly.

They were in the midst of their Sixth Annual Underwater Clean-up Day. A whole bunch of divers had piles of trash and they were giving prizes for the best of several funny categories. One woman in the general store was going to claim her shorts which had blown off her boat a month ago and had somehow had the rear seam ripped out.

We left Two Harbors at about 3 p.m. and paddled straight into a head wind. Although I was paddling further out than Steve was comfortable with, my stomach was not a problem all afternoon. It seems that a little bit of chop and continuous forward movement work wonders.

We overshot Paradise, landed at Lava Wall and had to paddle back. It's amazing houw we can be quite comfortable as we're paddling but be almost immediately hypothermic when we beach. I'm learning that the first order of business is changing into warm, dry clothes so knowing where that dry bag is and having it packed correctly are essential.

We were both exhausted and cranky so after getting the beds laid out and having a tiff, we went to sleep. But not before we watched the full moon rise out of a cloud bank that was virtually invisible. If not for the moon peaking out from behind it, we would not have even known it was there.

This morning dawned pretty gray. It was cloudy and since the leeward side of the island mostly faces north or northeast, the sun didn't hit the campsite until relatively late. Once it did and the clouds cleared, the mood of the day changed entirely. I tried to go snorkeling, but what with the cold water and my level of inexperience, I only lasted for a VERY short time. I spent the rest of the day reading.

Tomorrow, I'd like to start early for Avalon. I'm looking forward to a shower and would like some time to walk around and explore. Our helicopter back on Tuesday leaves at 11:20 a.m.

We still don't know what we're doing for the rest of the week. We've discussed a number of options, including Yosemite, Sequoia, Joshua Tree, Las Vegas, Holbrook, Los Angeles, Santa Barbara, La Posada, so who knows where we'll end up. I'd like to be in Ouray Saturday night. I'd like to be home early afternoon on Sunday and I want to avoid long drive days as much as possible. We'll see where that takes us.

I am such a geek!

Above is a link to my catalog on Library Thing. I'm embarrassed to say how much time I've spent on this. But, every book in the house (except for Rachel's) is in that catalog.

I also must admit that I'm not done spending time on it. There are tags to add, reviews to write, statistics to compare . . .

Oh well, hobbies are good, right?

Friday, October 18, 2002 P.M.

On the beach at Parson's Landing in front of a blazing campfire.

After Jerry's Famous Deli yesterday, we made a "quick" stop at Barnes & Noble, for over an hour . . . Then, we went back to Jeff & Chris' and lazed around the pool until Chris showed up. We followed her to Midas and had lunch at this awesome Italian grocery called Dominick's (I think). Great sandwiches -- mine caprese and Steve's prosciutto. Drove out to REI for bungee cords and drooled over the GPS V. Went back to the house to get organized for today and then dinner at Pinot Bistro. Yum! As Jeff & Chris say, the food was spectacular. I had ahi and monkfish. Steve had ribeye.

Got up very early this morning and were at Long Beach at 7 a.m. Our helicopter ride (Steve's first, my second) was very cool and much less upsetting to my stomach than a 2 hour boat ride would have been. It was cloudy but watching Catalina materialize out of the mist was magical. Took a cab to Descanso, walked back into town and shopped at Von's (forgetting all kinds of stuff). We had breakfast at the Catalina Cookie Co and walked back to Descanso. It seemed to take us forever to get loaded but finally we were on the boat to Parson's Landing. Randy and Ron motored us up here with a stop and a slight glitch at the isthmus. The campground people had us arriving the day after tomorrow with 20 people. But, no matter, with Randy and Ron's assistance, we got it straightened out and proceeded.

Randy dropped us off around the corner from Parson's so we could paddle in and get a feel for the boats and the surf. We paddled through some kelp beds and I saw my first few fish. We rented snorkeling gear so we should see lots more.

I really like the kayaking but my stomach is not yet convinced. Hopefully, it was the combination of the helicopter ride, the motor boat ride and then the kayaking but that may be wishful thinking. Definitely sitting still was more of a problem than moving forward. I neglected to bring any motion sickness meds so hopefully I'll be better tomorrow.

I really like Catalina. Our campground tonight has 8 sites but we're the only ones here. It appears to be trying to clear up. This afternoon I lazed around and napped while Steve boated to the north end of the island and back. Tomorrow to Paradise with a stop at Two Harbors and two nights at Paradise.

My first campfire on an ocean beach.

(not my photo but you get the idea . . .)

Have you booked your ski trip yet?

This picture was taken a few minutes ago.

This one was taken yesterday morning.

They're already running newspaper stories seeking volunteers for bootpacking. What is bootpacking? According to the article in today's Aspen Daily News, bootpacking at Aspen Highlands "consist(s) of marching up some of the steepest in-bounds terrain in North America over and over again in ski or snowboard boots." "Packing consolidates the snowpack and reduces avalanche danger."

The ski patrol warns that packing is grueling work. The days last from 8 a.m. until 4:30 p.m . . . A half-hour break is scheduled for lunch and packers will occasionally have the opportunity to ski down the runs they pack with ski patrol.

Thanks to the opening of some new terrain at Highlands this year, ski patrol will need more volunteers than ever. The new terrain includes a longer Mushroom, areas in Highland Bowl that were previously just past the boundary rope in the North Woods section and some new gladed terrain in the Steeplechase area. Altogether the new terrain encompasses 40 acres.

Your reward for this "grueling work?" Well, if you make it for 15 days, you earn a full season pass which retails for $1,979 (although you can get it slightly cheaper if you buy early). You can also earn vouchers for discounts on passes if you work 5, 8, 10 or 12 days.

Probably the biggest benny is the possibility of getting the early morning call on "Epic" powder days to get first crack at some untracked runs at Highlands.

It pays to be nice to the Highlands Ski Patrol . . .

Thursday, October 17, 2002 A.M.

At Jerry's Famous Deli on Ventura Blvd. in Encino.

Except for waking up in Puerto Penasco and having a leisurely breakfast, doing some souvenir shopping and sitting at the edge of the Sea of Cortez/Gulf of California (all of which were pretty excellent), the second half of yesterday pretty much sucked.

It was a long drive day with some very short tempers. We had meltdowns in Mexico and in the US and drove for hours withouth speaking. It acutally broke the ice when we were searched at the border in Yuma. We were both glad when we got to Jeffrey's.

We had crossed the border at Lukeville very easily but decided to go back and drive along Mexico 2 because it was or at least appeared to be shorter. Shortly thereafter, we had the meltdown which colored the rest of the day. Shortly after that, we got run off hte road passing a truck. Getting stopped at the Mexican military roadblock and searched at the border were actually high points compared to everything else.

Coming across California, the winds were so fierce, we bagged the idea of camping and pushed through to L.A. It's really good to be here and to not have to deal with getting here today. Coming in to L.A. last night, we took a wrong turn andhad to do a bit of back-tracking. We drove through some pretty rundown neighborhoods.

But for all of that, yesterday morning was very cool. We got up, went for a swim in the ocean and then the pool. It was a special interlude. We had breakfast at the hotel, check out and drove back over to the fisherman's wharf area. We did the tacky tourist thing and were quite pleased with our progress in learning the art of haggling. Esteban and his buddy, Santiago, had a go at it with us netting 2 mirrors and 3 postcards for $55. Then we sat for one last time at a seaside bar, watched the birds and the fishing boats and took what should be some cool pictures. What was a lovely sea breeze along the gulf turned into quite a dramatic gale as we drove out of Puerto Penasco with sand virtually covering the highway as it blew across. Awesome visual.

Wednesday, October 16, 2002 A.M.

We're in Mexico. We got up early yesterday, had coffee and an argument at the Bisbee Coffee Co, then left Bisbee to go to Puerto Penasco, Sonora, Mexico. We went through Tucson and it ended up being a longer drive than anticipated but we got here at approximately 5 P.M., in time to sit out at the Fishmarket (Aqui es con Flavio), have some ceviche, watch the sun set and watch a school of dolphins swim by. It was magical.

We stayed at the Plaza Las Glorias (now Penasco del Sol) since we didn't feel like trying to find a campsite in the dark. It's a nice hotel with a pool overlooking the beach. This morning we got up and went for a swim in the Sea of Cortez and in the pool.

Last night we started to walk back to the fishmarket but then got a cab and had a drink at Margarita's in the Vino del Mar Hotel. It's hot and humid here and Steve's ring almost fits.

Today we head back to the U.S. I'm a tiny bit worried about getting back in since we have no proof of citizenship but I'm probably concerned about nothing. We did stop yesterday and get Mexican insurance which was also probably unnecessary but it made me feel better.

It is pretty cool sitting here watching the fishing boats at work.

Election season in a small town

The first sentence of the front page, above the fold story in Friday's Aspen Daily News:

Pitkin County sheriff's candidate Rick Magnuson made a video last year that shows him masturbating in the Mojave Desert and the 41-year-old Aspen patrol officer said yesterday that he is proud of the film.

Since Magnuson announced his candidancy, it has been my contention that this is simply a publicity stunt. Magnuson has long been a publicity hound and this is yet another in the list of escapades in which he has engaged to put his name before the public.

He allegedly stole his own piece of "artwork" which resulted in newspaper coverage. He drove around the roundabout for over 6 hours (more than 1000 times), filming a gold fish bowl on the dashboard which resulted in newspaper coverage. (Of course, it is a small town so the bar for meriting newspaper coverage is pretty low.)

He has even returned campaign contributions which, in my mind, bolsters my conclusion that he's not running with any intention of trying to win, but just to increase his name recognition.

He's running as the ethical, honest candidate but he used "pretexting" (can you say Hewlett-Packard?) in order to try to trick Bob Braudis, the incumbent, into revealing that he was away at a spa/rehab center.

Braudis for Sheriff!

Where were you four years ago today?

Four years ago, I was in the midst of my honeymoon. This year, my espoused and I are thousands (?) of miles apart, me in Colorado, he in Hawaii. He asked me the other day to provide him with our honeymoon itinerary so he could remember each day where we were 4 years ago.

Here it is:

Tuesday, October 8, 2002 - The Galisteo Inn, Room Cottonwood, Galisteo, New Mexico
Wednesday, October 9, 2002 - The Galisteo Inn, Room Cottonwood, Galisteo, New Mexico
Thursday, October 10, 2002 - The Galisteo Inn, Room Cottonwood, Galisteo, New Mexico
Friday, October 11, 2002 - The Frontier Inn, Room 140,Roswell, New Mexico
Saturday, October 12, 2002 - camping in the Lincoln National Forest near Alamogordo, NM
Sunday, October 13, 2002 - The Copper Queen Hotel, Room 318, Bisbee, Arizona
Monday, October 14, 2002 - The Copper Queen Hotel, Room 318, Bisbee, Arizona
Tuesday, October 15, 2002 - Plaza Las Glorias, Room 337, Puerto Penasco, Mexico
Wednesday, October 16, 2002 - Jeffrey & Chris' house, Encino, California
Thursday, October 17, 2002 - Jeffrey & Chris' house, Encino, California
Friday, October 18, 2002 - camping at Parson's Landing, Catalina Island, California
Saturday, October 19, 2002 - camping at Paradise Cove, Catalina Island, California
Sunday, October 20, 2002 - camping at Paradise Cove, Catalina Island, California
Monday, October 21, 2002 - Zane Grey Pueblo, Room Call of the Canyon, Avalon, Catalina Island, California
Tuesday, October 22, 2002 - Jeffrey & Chris' house, Encino, California
Wednesday, October 23, 2002 - Jeffrey & Chris' house, Carpinteria, California
Thursday, October 24, 2002 - camping in the Warm Springs Wilderness near Battleship Mountain between Oatman and Kingman, Arizona on the Kingman side of the Sitgreaves Pass.
Friday, October 25, 2002 - Wigwam Hotel, Wigwam 12, Holbrook, Arizona
Saturday, October 26, 2002 - Kimbe's house, Taos, New Mexico

Journal entries:

Wednesday, October 9, 2002 A.M. -- Although I wrote in Steve's journal yesterday as we were driving, I didn't have the energy to write in mine last night. We're here in Gallisteo (oops, that only one L in Galisteo) and I'm drinking champagne at 11:15 in the morning.

Except for the fact that I was exhausted (having been up at 4:10 am), yesterday was very cool. We left Aspen at approximately 3:45 pm on a clear sunny day, drove over Independence Pass (from Independence Place), stopped at the top to look at the fresh ski tracks. On the way up, I looked down upon a raven flying below me but still so far up off the ground. We had a rainbow somewhere near Poncha Springs and we're making a list of places to return to, like the yurts at Mineral Hot Springs, the UFO Watch Tower down the road and the alligator farm in Hooper. We stopped in Taos at Melissa's father's restaurant, The Trading Post Cafe (actually in Rancho de Taos) and had the most wonderful dinner. As Steve said, the filet was so tender, if it was anymore tender, it would have been soup. Melissa's father generously comped our dinner which was unexpected. We thought maybe he'd buy us drinks or dessert.

We got to Galisteo for the first time at 11:56 pm and drove out at 11:57 pm, turned around and got to the Galisteo Inn at approximately midnight. We'll explore today after our breakfast of champagne.

Thursday, October 10, 2002 A.M. -- After lollygagging around for most of the day, we went on a bike ride through Galisteo yesterday, following the map of the artists' studio tour that's taking place here October 19th and 20th. We were on old beater bikes and mine was a cross between a town bike and a mountain bike, mountain bike tires with town bike handle bars and seat, that was too small for me, mainly because we couldn't raise the seat. Steve said I looked like a little girl. It definitely made the hills challenging.

We drove up to Santa Fe, saw the Loretto Chapel with its Miraculous Staircase and walked the neighborhood around the Plaza. We had dinner at a brick oven pizza place called Jesse's in the Hotel Plaza Real on Washington. Our entire meal last night, including tip, cost what our tip cost at Melissa's father's restaurant. The potato pizza was delicious. Then we drove back to Galisteo and Steve made a fire which we fell asleep watching. He tried to make one Tuesday night but had not been supplied with the correct tools, i.e. kindling. Last night we had a fire log which burned beautifully. In Santa Fe, Steve was a bit discomfited by my propensity to walk into shops. He feels like this is a side of me that he's never seen which, of course, he hasn't so he didn't know it existed.

We were supposed to switch out of our room, the Cottonwood, to the Spruce for our last night here but they had a cancellation so we get to stay put. I had been thinking that if I had made the plans, I would have taken the room where we didn't have to move but, lo and behold, Steve's strategy paid off.

Today, we're supposed to hang out around Galisteo, have lunch here (Jerry's grandmother's Sicilian pasta recipe) and have dinner here. We're playing with the idea of going to Albuquerque tomorrow to see Aunt Pat, Mary, David and their daughter (whose name escapes me right now) and then on to Vaughn and Hagerman. The Balloon Fiesta is ongoing right now and that is tempting also. I have a hankering to stop by Walmart to pick up a few things but I know that is nowhere near Steve's agenda.

Three days into the marriage he says, "What are you going to do, divorce me?" And four days into the marriage, he loses his lovely new bride at breakfast.

Wedding day recollections: sleeping late at the Jerome, shipping for a wedding card for Steve at Carl's, walking to Paradise Bakery with my veil in my hand (after going back to my room twice because I forgot, among other things, my veil), sitting with Leah, Rachel, Lily, Nancy & Lisa getting our hair done, being a half-hour late for my make-up, taking pictures in Room 204, watching the courtyard fill up with people, waiting for the call to come down, almost running into Steve by Jacob's Corner, (rewind - stopping in to see Bruce, Melissa, Annie, Deb, Rich & Donna in the Wienerstube), watching Steve walk up the aisle, almost walking up the wrong walkway myself. I have no idea where Lily went when she finished her flower girl gig. Walking up the aisle with Dad, Dad kissing me and shaking hands with Steve, not knowing we were supposed to sit down, the gorgeous warm bright sunny day, Tom's improvising wonderfully, Steve and Rachel's vows (blowing in her face, the tibia, the wreath), looking into the sun as I tried to watch Steve read his vows, repeating after Frank, kissing my husband for the first time, walking down the aisle, finding Rachel on her knees in her dress testing the water in the hot tub, pictures, pictures and more pictures, being announced, Steve not letting me feed him the cake, our first dance (everyone said we looked like pros), the Electric Slide (two things I can't control, the weather and the Electric Slide), the patrol picture, the night winding down, Steve seeing his gift, more champagne . . .

It's a blur with moments of clarity, trying to grab onto it all before it totally fades.

Ron helping Mary Sue.

Monday morning, Steve going to breakfast in his tux (I should have worn my wedding dress too) because he forgot a change of clothes.

Friday, October 11, 2002 A.M. -- So yesterday, we did hang around Galisteo all day. We went for a walk before lunch, after taking pictures in front of our private hacienda. I took Steve down below the bridge and over to the property across from the firehouse with the ruins where Steve got lots of pictures.

Break for breakfast . . .

We came back to the Inn, had a wonderful lunch (a sweet Sicilian tomato sauce) and then walked around Galisteo some more. We laid around in the hammock while we waited for sunset so Steve could get some more pictures in the best light. Then an awesome dinner, sea scallops, tuna (me), tenderloin (Steve), mousse and creme brulee.

So now we're off to Santa Fe to stock up and then to Vaughn and Hagerman (unless we change our minds . . . )

Friday, October 11, 2002 P.M. -- We may have made our first mistake of the honeymoon. We're in Roswell, New Mexico in what we've taken to calling the junkyard dog room. We're at the Frontier Inn, the cheapest place in the AAA book and there's a school bus full of kids (high schoolers) here on a field trip (or maybe a track team). Our room is on the end, next to another property, with a dog tied in it. As the kids run around the parking lot, yelling, the dog barks incessantly. But, since it's only 9:45 pm, there's still hope.

We're in Roswell because, well, either because we got to Vaughn too early or too late. We left Galisteo and went up to Santa Fe to stock up. After some minor bumps, we set off down the Turquoise Trail, stopping first in Los Cerrillos and then in Madrid for lunch. In between, we stumbled upon Tiny Town, otherwise known as the Bone Zone where Steve almost adopted a cat. After Madrid, we motored to Vaughn, taking the turn-off for San Pedro which led up an excellent little mountain road. In Vaughn, we found the train station took some pictures of the property across the street, which may or may not have once been owned by my grandfather. Of course, this presumes that the train station is in the same place that it was some 60 years ago.

Since it was only 6 pm when we left Vaughn, we felt it was too early to stop. However, Roswell was the next closest place and it was at least an hour away, at which point it would be dark. Since we didn't want to locate a camping place in the dark, it was either camping in Vaughn or a motel in Roswell. So here we are. We shall see how it turns out . . .

Roswell, UFO museums and Hagerman tomorrow.

Saturday, October 12, 2002 P.M. -- "Resistance is futile." The new wedding motto Steve learned from a bumper sticker in Roswell.

Let me just say that it's cold! We're camping for the first time on our honeymoon in a lovely spot outside of Cloudcroft off Hwy 82 near Alamogordo. All the campgrounds are closed so we turned off on a dirt road 5661 (?) and found a large flat clearing up off the road to the left. We built (actually Steve built) an awesome campfire. We had one almost four foot long log that burned spectacularly. It actually had liquid fire dripping from it.

We went to the Crash Site Cafe for breakfast and had the worst coffee in the tackiest place I've e ever been. After that, we went to two horrid UFO stores and one semi-decent museum in downtown Roswell. We are so done with Roswell.

And I'm about done with that pen.

After Roswell, we made our way to Hagerman and met a nice former police officer. Hagerman is still very economically depressed and it wasn't hard to imagine it in the Depression. I left with a strange feeling about the fact that my grandparents lived and worked there.

After (okay now I'm on my third pen) Hagerman, we decided to head west. After one back track due to a dead end, we made our way to Hwy 82, New Mexico Hwy 82 that is. We took a wonderful scenic road, 130 and are now here! (sleepy grass turn off, off of Hwy 130)

Sunday, October 13, 2002 P.M. -- I've given up on my colorful pens. It's hard to have your thoughts flow when your pen keeps dying. I think those pens are defective. I should return them to Walmart but I'll probably never get to it.

We're in the Copper Queen Hotel, a 100+ year old Victorian grand lady in Bisbee, Arizona. Our plan is to stay here for two nights then motor on to L.A.

We got up this morning in the Lincoln National Forest, made coffee and broke camp. We drove through Alamogordo and stopped at the White Sands National Monument. After doing the driving loop under threatening dark skies, which contrasted beautifully with the incredibly white dunes, we took I-10 west, past Lordsburg to Roads Fork where we picked up Hwy 80 South. We were sorely tempted to stop and camp in the Chiricahua National Monument but decided to press on to Bisbee. We'd like to come back and visit the Chiricahua along with the Fort Bowie site. Although Chiricahua would have been great, it'll be nice to be in two nights in one place.

Rachel called last night while we were camping. The reception there was better than in Galisteo or here in Bisbee. It was great to talk to her and she thought it was cool that we had gone to Hagerman.

The motel in Roswell ended up being fine. I think the track team had a curfew. There was some sort of bit event going on Saturday at the New Mexico Military Institute so maybe they had something to do with that.

We're traveling with Dylan Hazzard's GeoBear and I've sent him two postcards and haven't sent Rachel one. I'll remedy that tomorrow.

so far my least favorite place has been Roswell and my most favorite has been, I can't decide. I guess it's a toss-up between the town (village?) of Galisteo and the camp site in the Lincoln National Forest.

Tomorrow, we'll see what Bisbee holds . . .

Oh yeah, today we saw our first inclement weather with some scattered showers and high winds.

Fun at dinner feeding the feral cat.

Monday, October 14, 2002 P.M. -- Today, Steve got up and went for a walk while I took a shower. We had coffee at the Bisbee Coffee Co and breakfast here at the hotel. We then walked around town, went up by the church and met Betty and Grace painting in the church basement. We also stopped and helped a woman clear ivy for the stair climb next Saturday at the Quality Hill walk.

After that, Steve and I split up for a while, Steve going further up the hill and me coming down to shop a little. I found a coffee pot and a carafe in an antique store and poked around a used bookstore.

Since Bisbee is built into the side of a pretty major hill, it has stairs where most towns have sidewalks. There are stairs as walkways to front doors, stairs as footpaths, stairs as sidewalks. They short cut between streets. A lot of them date to the Depression or earlier. It makes for a visually exciting town, though not very handicapped accessible (predates the ADA!).

We had lunch at Ken's Pizza Place, which we at next door at St. Elmo's Bar. We walked in the blazing sun out to the Lavender Pit, then came back, got the car and drove to Naco where we walked across the border into Mexico. My first time in Mexico. It's much easier to enter Mexico than it is to enter the US (altho neither was difficult at all). Leaving the US, we just walked through a turnstile and didn't speak to anyone. It felt like no one even noticed us. Returning to the US, we had to go into the Customs building where a Customs officer asked us if we were US citizens. We said yes, he said are you sure, we said yes and proceeded on our way. It is amazing what a visible presence the Border Patrol has n Douglas and in Naco. There was a sign in Naco that said, "If this was Scottsdale, the National Guard would be here." It's a situation the rest of the country is really out of touch with.

When we got back to Bisbee, we were sitting in front of the Copper Queen when all of the sudden, Nicholas Devore appeared. He was with his girlfriend, Margaritte, another artist named David and a guy who scammed $10 from us yesterday. Nicholas was quite intoxicated and when he threw a bag of Margaritte's clothes in our direction (after Steve told me who he was), I pointed out that he had already made Steve's acquaintance in Aspen. After I blew his mind by knowing Margaritte's name and after we chatted for a while, I tired of his drunken antics, harassing the people checking into the hotel, and excused myself. It was a very interesting encounter and I'm glad to have initiated it, but I can only tolerate him in very small doses. This may be true of everyone.

Dinner at the Bisbee Grille, good but expensive ($53 for 2 apps and 2 Caeser salads). One last stroll through town, now bed.

Attention deficit disorder????

What I'm reading (an almost complete list):



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On page 83 of 255.

Nervous yet?

"When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross."

Sinclair Lewis

Naturally the common people don't want war; neither in Russia, nor in England, nor in America, nor in Germany. That is understood. But after all, it is the leaders of the country who determine policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag the people along, whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is to tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country. (emphasis added)

Hermann Goering

As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their hearts desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.

H.L. Mencken

former Columbia University Professor Robert O. Paxton defines fascism's essence as:

• "1. a sense of overwhelming crisis beyond reach of traditional solutions; 2. belief one’s group is the victim, justifying any action without legal or moral limits; 3. need for authority by a natural leader above the law, relying on the superiority of his instincts; 4. right of the chosen people to dominate others without legal or moral restraint; 5. fear of foreign `contamination."

Lawrence Britt's Fourteen Common Threads of Fascism

You're welcome

On Bob Edwards' last day with NPR's Morning Edition (when he was forced out in April 2004), he said something fairly innocuous that comes to mind almost every day. I'm not sure why it stuck with me so strongly. I do know that, at first, I just considered it with an "Oh, that's an interesting comment" attitude. Then, as I thought about it more, it started to diminish my respect for Bob Edwards. I've come to feel that his comment was rather arrogant.

What did he say, you ask?

I'm not going to be able to recall his words exactly but the gist was that it annoyed him when he was thanking people at the end of interviews and they thanked him back. He was being interviewed as a Morning Edition farewell and he concluded with that statement and a "You're welcome."

As I said, at the time, I noted it with a sort of idle curiosity. But here I am 2 1/2 years later and still, every time I hear the end of an interview on NPR, I listen for whether the interviewee says some form of thank you or you're welcome.

Now, I'm annoyed. I'm annoyed that he would be so judgmental regarding what is a essentially a gesture of appreciation and I'm annoyed that I can't let it go.