Betty White's Rebuttal

In the wake of what may go down in history as the most ridiculous display of histrionics ever on a convention stage, there was an almost immediate call for a DNC rebuttal from the incomparable Betty White.  Funny?  For sure. Over the top? Potentially.  But not if it's done right.  (Read: Not if the DNC does it my way.)

I am not interested in answering the RNC as much as I am in sprinting right past them.  So picture this. The place - Charlotte, NC (hopefully without the Greek columns.) The time - the slot immediately before President Obama takes the stage.  Yes.  Immediately before.

She should walk on the stage  (crowd goes wild, laughter, etc since all have been a-buzz about the possibility of her appearance.)  Then a few moments later, while she is still soaking in all the adoration, someone brings out a chair.  She looks at it  (more uproarious laughter.)  Then she sits in it and says "Well, what else was I supposed to do with it?  I turned 90 this year.  I need to sit."

Then she should talk about those 90 years - as an American, and as a woman. What has changed, what has gotten better.  And yes, what has not gotten better.  She should talk about what a twenty year old Betty would have thought about walking on the moon, the right to choose, smart phones, gay rights, equal pay and yes, an American President with a name like Barack Hussein Obama.  Did she ever think she would "live to see the day" to see any of this?

Think about what Betty White has seen in her lifetime.  If this were my full time job I would come up with an incredible list of some of the less-obvious things that have happened in and to America in the past 90 years.

Actually maybe we can all come up with a list and you can write one (or several) in the comments.

What her talk should leaving us feeling is equal parts of pride and anger - pride in what we have all built and anger over the things that are still unfinished, always neglected.

It would be a slam dunk and hell, I'd pay to see it.  Obama would have his work cut out for him following Betty White.

Photo By : Pete Souza, White House photographer

A Side of Bigotry with your Outrage?

So I have been thinking a lot about this ICK Fil A thing.  I call them that because it is garbage food that no one should be eating anyway.  I saw a piece on them a while ago and was shocked at how long it took the GOP to embrace them.  Here is my stance and you better sit down.

Let them do what they want.  The most powerful tool we have against bigotry, hate and, yes, stupidity is our almighty dollar.  If you do not agree with their politics do not give them your money.  I think we would be shocked at what business owners support what causes. I do not like what Walmart stands for so I do not go there.  But I do go to other big box retailers that have changed the landscape of our retail environment - no more mom and pop stores, the loss of the American Main Street.  Does it make me a hypocrite?  I suppose, but I cannot fear being called a hypocrite so much that I do not act in the small ways I can.  No act of boycott any of us ever engage in will ever be perfect but we have to do what we can to exercise the expressions of Free Speech that are available to us.  And remember, according to our Supreme Court money is speech. So spend your dollars wisely.

I am reminded of the quote that I have always loved - I believe it has been credited to Thomas Jefferson.  "I do not agree with  a word you say, but I will die fighting for your right to say it."  I did not look up the actual quote - I just went from memory since it is perhaps more important how it lives in my heart than how accurate it is.  I do not want any bigotry to exist in our society.  But I do not think that the way to eradicate bigotry is to in turn be a bigot.  My Twitter profile says that I am trying not to be a bigot for The Left - some days I am better at that than others.  The quote is from Annie Hall and you can see the clip here.

Annie Hall Clip  

The implication in that scene is that Woody Allen's character is a bigot , but for the left, so it's OK  (clearly the point was that it's not OK.)

The Left will win this battle for equality but if we are not careful we will trip over ourselves on the way the promised land.  I say we we welcome everyone.  Keep them close - they might learn something - who knows maybe we will too.

If I were stuck in an elevator with Paul Ryan....

The difference between you and me, Representative Ryan?  Choices.

You choose division over unity.
I choose to work for what is best for the country.
You choose stalemate over progress, filibuster over consensus.
I choose to vote for the best solution regardless from which side of the aisle it originated.
You choose the rich over the poor, the comfort of the few over the safety of the many.
 I choose to remember that it must always about the least among us.
You choose big business over education.
I choose to understand that without outstanding education for all American enterprise will disappear.
You choose profits over the environment.
I choose to understand that no amount of money will ever reverse the damage we are causing.
You have chosen to be bigoted.
I choose equality.
You have chosen to be heartless.
I choose to always care about my fellow earthlings - American or not.
You have chosen to turn a deaf ear.
I choose to always listen to all sides.
You have chosen to reject the teachings of your own religion.
I choose no religion other than that which teaches me to look out for those that cannot look out for themselves.

No one chooses to be poor.
No one chooses to be sick.
No one chooses to be chronically unemployed.
No one chooses to be homeless.
No one chooses public assistance over self reliance.
No one chooses a free lunch program over feeding their children.
No one chooses their sexuality.
No one chooses where they are born.

But we can choose to vote all of you out. And we will.

I hope those nuns choose to kick your ass.

Can some one get me out of here?  PLEASE????

The Father-Daughter Dance

I am an only child - yes I am Jim and Anna's only kid.  More importantly perhaps I am my father's only daughter.  My wedding was a mini royal wedding to be quite honest.  My parents eloped so my grandfather never had the chance to walk my mother down the aisle.  All my life I knew that was never going to happen to me - it was not an option.  I would have a wedding and it would be beautiful - the wedding my parents never had.  And, yes, dad would walk me down the aisle.

On more than one occasion my mother commented that she was completely opposed to the idea of a weepy bride walking down the aisle.  "No one wants to see a blubbering bride."  So I guess I have always known that the pressure was on to hold it together - which frankly is not one of my strengths.  My guess is Mom gave Dad a really harsh talking to about what he was allowed to and not allowed to say to me prior to our long journey down that narrow space.  As we were waiting for our cue we talked about the weather. Yes the weather. It was raining, pouring actually - it had not rained in months.  My wedding was knick-named the drought -buster wedding.  Luckily I suppose, since it did give us a topic distract us and keep the emotions at bay.  It worked - we both held it together.

My guess is my mother did not have a similar rule in place for the Father-Daughter dance though.  Clearly all bets were off and I have the blubbering dancing bride pictures to prove it.  I never told anyone what he said to me until now.

"For the rest of your life, no matter where you go or what you do you need to always remember you are loved.  Your mother and I will always love you.  You are our life.  Alway remember where you came from.  Always be true to who you are and never ever forget how much we love you."

We danced to an old Helen Reddy song "You and Me Against the World."  Jim and Anna only had one child.  They should have had more.  Such a shame that only one person calls them Mom and Dad.

For My Boys.....

On the radio last night I heard part of President Obama's Father's Day message.  I was pleasantly surprised (OK absolutely thrilled) that much of what he said reminded me of what I wrote for my sons' blessing ceremonies.  Instead of a traditional "Christening" ceremony we had a non-demoninational blessing ceremony.  When the boys are older, and if they choose, they can make their own decisions about faith and religion.  Regardless of what they choose I hope these words always guide them.

For Nathan...

Being your mother is the most important thing I will ever do.  A wise woman once said that being a mother means that for the rest of your life your heart will live outside of your own body.  I didn't really know what that meant until you were born.  Now I realize how incredibly beautiful and fragile everything is.  I never knew my house had so many sharp edges and I never knew how slippery a baby can be when you lift him out of the bath tub!


My dreams for you are very simple.  I have no expectations of where you will live, who you will choose to spend your life with, or how you will make your living.  My only wish is that you become the kind of person who walks through his life with an open mind and an open heart.  Be the one with whom anyone can find solace.  Be the one to bring laughter where there is sadness, hope where there is fear and perspective when life seems overwhelming.  May you be proud to look back on your life.


I do want you to be an excellent student of history, especially your own.  You are the grand sum of the love, hard work and sacrifice of many generations from many different parts of this world.  Your ancestors crossed oceans, including your grandfather, with very little and built wonderful lives. Now you are standing on their shoulders.  I will do everything I can to make sure you are looking out toward a very happy and fulfilling life.

For Julian...

We have all learned from our Super Heroes: "To whom much is given, much will be expected."  Julian, much will be expected of you.


We expect you to always be kind. Always be generous with what you have - no matter how little.  Alway be willing to share your treasure, your time and your talent.  We expect you to be brave - never be afraid to be the lone voice that speaks up for what is right and what is fair.  Always be one of the good guys.


You have been born into an extraordinary place during an extraordinary time and we hope you don't settle for being a passenger on this journey.  The world needs all the help it can get...so be ready.  Remember, anyone can do well but too few manage to also do some good along the way.


Today is your blessing but we are the ones that are blessed.  Thank you for being our son.

I always new President Obama and I were on the same page.

Ronnie Bucca - Prologue

There is a book that has been sitting on my nightstand for nearly ten years. Yes, ten.  That is not a typo.  1000 Years for Revenge by Peter Lance.  It has sat there, mocking me.  I pick it up, dust it, move it from here to there. My failure to read it has nothing to do with lack of time or interest. I fear that reading it will launch me into a new direction - some kind of strange point of no return.  I needed to be ready.  If I started this journey without being ready, it would have been a false start.  I have to, in my own way, tell the story of Ronnie Bucca - something I think I am supposed to do.  Maybe the way some people contemplate Everest or travel the world in search of the perfect wave or something. Maybe the way one might spend years trying to pull a mythical creature from a river. He has to. Now, I have to.

Ronnie Bucca was an FDNY Fire Marshal - the only one in the history of the FDNY to die in the line of duty. Tower One. 9/11.  On a floor higher than any other fire fighter.  Also, by all accounts, he saw the attacks coming and tried to warn the US intelligence community.  He knew they would come back to finish the job.  He was right.  I don't think enough people know who he is or what he did.  His entire life was truly extraordinary.

So this is simply my taking the step to commit to doing my own research and promising to tell his story.  Hold me to it.

Don Draper or Roger Sterling?

So now I am going to circle back to this goliath-sized topic. Peggy Olson started this whole thing.  (Peggy by the way is so in love with Don Draper that she really had no choice but to leave the agency. Feel free to say I'm crazy on that one but did you see her face when he kissed her hand? 'nuff said.)  Maybe I should ultimately blame, I mean thank, Matthew Weiner. His irresistible boys of Mad Men typify this brain twisting debate - What is the difference between sexy and handsome? Can you be one without the other?

Don Draper? No. Roger Sterling. And yes I will admit I have an undeniable "thing" for silver foxes.  And for you returning bloggees, my complex affinity for one has already been documented.  I cannot take my eyes off of Roger Sterling. Don Draper is clearly handsome and if he takes his shirt off I won't be leaving the room.  But there is something about him that leaves me luke warm.  Even with all the mysteries of his past which by all accounts I should find "intriguing" he still does nothing for me. He's boring. There is no spark.  Roger on the other hand?  Well, how much I like a particular episode of this fantastic program is directly proportional to how many Pounds Sterling it has.  He has a way of being in the moment without taking any of it too seriously. He's the kind of guy that notices, and yes, catalogues, every woman within a one mile radius. And yes, the Gloria Steinem in me should be offended. I'm not. I can't help but wonder if I would make the Sterling cut.

Handsome is something that can be empirically, operationally measured - the square of the jaw, the width of the shoulders.  Sexy is comprised of intangibles that make you slightly uncomfortable and squirm in your seat. The handsome one has nice eyes, but the sexy one stares into your soul and leaves you feeling a bit naked. Roger always makes me uncomfortable - painfully self aware.  If I were in this agency's secretarial pool I would be the one always bumping into things whenever he was around.

Roger once told Joan that her lips were like a drop of strawberry jam in a tall glass of milk.  Not sure how she remained standing after hearing that.  A YouTube comment on a Mad Men clip summed it up perfectly: "This guy is the epitome of chill."  Bingo.  Now, if Captain Chill jumps into a pool of Piranhas I'm going to have to stop watching...for my own sake.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_aIFK8pQeE&feature=related