Thanksgiving Fib

I know I wrote I wouldn't post again until December. I can't be trusted.

There's a winter storm advisory in effect until this afternoon. We're supposed to leave for NC tonight - I imagine the worst will be over by the time we go, plus we'll be driving south, so at this point, I'm not worried about it.

Despite my deep and relentless hate of upstate NY winters, I do think early snowfall is pretty. It looks especially pretty from the windows. I took these a few minutes ago.



Happy Thanksgiving!

Old box, new box

No one wants another lecture about consumerism, supporting Main Street, the evils of mega-marts, and the like - not that we don't need to be lectured about this...trust me when I tell you I believe in fair trade, good quality, and ethical sourcing and production. Trust me as I tell you this while my other browser tab is on target.com -I'm looking at curtain panels for the living room.

Big box stores suck me in pretty easily...in some ways they remind me of childhood, wandering Caldor's and Alexander's with my mom. Those were some of the first big stores open in the outskirts of Peekskill.

Before that, I remember that shopping was all about going downtown to Woolworth's and then the big-time: Howland's-Steinbach - all fancy smack in the middle of downtown, with four levels, central escalator, and even elevators with real, actual elevator operators in uniform! It was like old-timey movies but with a late 70s soundtrack. Eventually it went out of business and after years of vacancy, the building was turned into a branch of Westchester County Community College, or as the locals call it, Harvard on the Hudson. Later WCC moved next door to the Woolworth building, and the former Steinbach was taken over by another state branch...ironically, the unemployment office.

Thanks to Ed Horn for the pic of the former Steinbach building, below. The fomer Woolworth building is now a branch of WCCC.

Fast forward to the 2000s. Living in upstate NY with Walmart being the main big-box game in town, I've grown to hate it more and more. Of course I hate what it stands for, its politics, and all that, but honestly, when I really break it down, Walmart has little to offer me outside of cheap and disposable crap. I still go there on occasion, but I make it a point to do it only for very specific situations and items. I always leave with more than I came in for (goodness, I idolize Ralph Nader, but I'm not quite at his level of freak yet...), but at least I can say it's mostly nationally branded stuff that just happens to be priced well at that moment (like Diet Dr. Pepper). As for the rest - food, cosmetics, clothes, and so on? I get those elsewhere. And I don't necessarily spend more. Their slogan is Live Better? I say Live Better than Walmart.

OK, done with that diatribe. So I'm getting to this in a totally roundabout way. Apologies. Keep reading. I have really enjoyed rediscovering the Main Street shopping experience over the past few years - and not just in Oneonta. Oneonta is still troubled with hiccups of empty store fronts and spaces changing hands. In my humble opinion the problem is really a circular little pinch of everything:

From the consumer side, it's lazy people not wanting to find parking and walk (though they'll walk the length of a football field in the Walmart lot), and people just too stuck in the convenience/cheap goods/all-in-one place/more-is-better mindset who never think to check downtown first. Big boxes are a real convenience - and a real threat. It's hard to live without them when they've been able to take over most of your frontal lobe.

From the business side, it's store owners that have to contend with high rents and overhead BUT don't cater to customer schedules (ya, you heard me Razzle Dazzle lady - you SUCK and aren't worthy of the fun stuff in your store), they aren't savvy or creative about advertising, and don't seem to get that if they have a significant, real sale, they will turn over much more inventory and make a profit. Try it. Face it. Your $1 off coupon in the Pennysaver ain't gonna pull me in. Your 'buy 75 at full price and get 5% off the 76th' isn't impressive - it's laughable. Offer a good deal, and you might just sell enough to offset the cost of your pathetic advertising and then you can't complain that your advertisements don't work. It's not the advertising, it's what you're advertising! Ok, sorry, again. There I go playing economist entrepreneur business marketing whiz anger child again. I get like that.

But really, I love Main Streets and I do shop them. Like just this afternoon, I bought some Christmas gifts. And they're unique and cool and you can't get them in Walmart. Or Target. And some were handmade, so the money stays in the community, and doesn't line the pockets of investors and CEOs. Some of the best gifts I've ever received were from small merchants, and some of the most treasured gifts I've given (at least people say they love them) were from small merchants. I'd love to post pictures of what I bought today, but like I said, they are gifts...

I probably won't post again for a week or so. I'm spending most of the weekend finishing my thesis (oh I'll blog about that for sure), and next week we'll be traveling for the holiday and I'm not sure I'll be able to get all bloggy with my bad self. So, Happy Thanksgiving and all that...I'll be back in December!

Sunday in the sink

One of Sam's favorite pastimes is playing at the kitchen sink. I run a super thin stream of water, then we select a variety of 'guys' and cups to use. He pushes a chair over to the counter and gets busy.

He fills up the cups and dumps them, bathes the toys, and so on, all the while giving me a running narrative of his work between snippets of conversations with the 'guys.'

He keeps it all contained to the sink area fairly well for a 2 year old, I think...leaving just some minor puddling around the edge and under the chair. I can't complain, it keeps him entertained for at least half an hour...in fact, that is how I was able to draft this entry. Plus it's totally educational, right?

Last week, Sam got into Tim's closet (it's an irresistible disaster). He found these weird laser- light blocking freak simmunition goggles. Simmunition as in simulated ammunition, I believe. It's dorky police training jargon. Anyway, if you ask me, they look more like those big crazy sunglasses really old people wear to drive. Here's Sam, ready to take off at an unreasonably slow speed in his Buick LeSabre:

He soon realized he wasn't getting anywhere fast, so the next morning he went back in and found our bicycle helmets:

Update: after I published this, Tim notified me that the fancy eye gear is actually just a pair of welding goggles. I didn't make up the simmunitions bit - Tim does do that, but apparently you don't need special glasses to do it. What do I know? I've never welded or used simulated ammunition. I've seen my dad weld, but he uses one of those creepy spacey looking helmet things that lifts up on a hinge. When I noticed that these goggles were super dark and blocked out everything, I assumed they were to be used with fancy lasers. I guess I'm just ahead of my time.

Transcribing is not that bad

If the alternative was sliding down a razor banister.

Honestly. This part of my thesis is making me climb the walls. It's just the tedious data entry part which I wish I'd paid someone to do. I could have planned ahead, surely, but you see, most of my academic life has been a cycle of extreme motivation to extreme laissez-faire, knowing that in the end, a trance-like state of brilliance will settle in for a few days and it all ends up stellar. It has worked for nearly twenty years of education, so it's a hard habit to break.

Not that I don't know better - on the contrary, what I might accomplish with a more steady stream of focus and planning would be nothing short of revolutionary. It's just too scary, which is why I don't go there. The world isn't ready. And besides, it's no fun that way. It's more fun to see what you can create under extreme conditions, and honestly, it's how I get my kicks these days.

The trance begins to creep in about 10 days before...ideas and observations start swirling around while I'm showering, cooking, driving, blogging. I remind myself to remember them. I get scared I won't. I tell myself I need to carry my voice recorder around. I don't. Sometimes I scribble them down somewhere, only to forget where later. I have bursts of confidence and bursts of panic. I think I might be a genius or a fool. Or a phony.

I waste hours with false starts. Sit, stare at the computer. Click open a document. Close it. Later. Tomorrow is a better day. The trance is still thin.

It thickens tomorrow, and next week it will be a fog. I might not remember if I talk to you. Or, I might say something tactless. Or I might be nice to you and curse your existence later. It's only my auto-pilot, and she is still in training. I'm somewhere else for a while, but I'll come out of it in just a couple of weeks. Then I'll realize that I was a major tool about this whole thing and we can both mock me. Promise.

Dare to dream

http://www.nytimes-se.com/

Tales from the cold

I'm suffering from a miserable cold, passed on from my husband. I even called him a big baby about it, and as karma would have it, I'm about to be the biggest Waaaa this side of the Hudson.
What's not to love about a cold? You sound miserable, so everyone is nice to you. People suddenly care about you getting sleep and rest and eating well. And for the most part, people leave you alone, keeping a safe distance from your germy aura and all your germy possessions.

But alas, lonely and phlegmy is the cold sufferer.

A few observations about having a cold:

It always amazes me that one nostril can be completely clogged, and yet drip.

Burning, watery, and sensitive eyes make you look like you are outrageously high.

I get excited about those few moments in the day when my sinuses break up and I can get a thorough nose-blowing. Feels great for about 2 minutes after, then you clog up again something fierce.

Trying to fall asleep at night is a joke. Somehow, you manage, but it really hurts in the morning.

Blowing your nose in your hand in the steamy hot shower is gross. But it's soo good. You do it too, don't front.

You feel a little like your Great Aunt [fill in old-fashioned name] with all the little tissue wads in every pocket.

I completely lose my sense of smell, and therefore, most of my sense of taste. I know 2 people that claim they can still taste just fine. Freaks! If you are one, reveal yourself...you are lucky indeed...or you are liars.

Yes we did!

It's a beautiful moment on a beautiful night. I'm so happy for America and so, so proud. I'm so happy for our children, and I have more hope and confidence in our futures than I ever have before.

I'm excited to open the gates to a new order, a new philosophy, and a better way.

It's your turn

Of course children pay attention more than we realize. Of course they understand and remember more than we'd like them to sometimes. Of course we don't really think about all this too much until a child (and usually your own) says something to remind you of their amazing little sponge brains.

Every evening, after dinner, we try to sneak in a few minutes of CNN between Legos and running around the house 'hiding' and playing with Sammy. We've been news junkies since the primaries, really. Fast forward to last night - we just picked up a copy of Disney Pixar's "A Bug's Life" (used from Ebay, cheap!) and Sam wanted to watch it for a second time. He really enjoys it, and I think it's fine. We watched most of it together, and toward the end, Sam turned to us and said, "Now it's your turn, Mommy and Daddy." Puzzled, we asked what it was our turn to do. Without missing a beat, Sam replied, "It's your turn to watch - to watch CNN!"

Another sweet Sammy moment: I recorded It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! a few nights ago. He is watching it as I type. A couple of minutes ago, I heard him say, "He's crying" and I looked up at the part where Schroeder is playing sad piano for Snoopy (the flying ace), who sniffles and wails. I looked back at Sam and he was crying too! I comforted him, but I couldn't help but smile, it was just the cutest thing.

A Distraction Before E-Day

All sorts of silly little sayings and thoughts have been wriggling around my brain today. I guess it's in nervous anticipation of tomorrow. As much as I want it to be over because my nerves can't take it anymore, I'm looking forward to spending the eve with Tim, our eyeballs glued to CNN.

I feel totally moronic and dumb to even admit it, but I started to think superstitiously too - like when I was driving home today and the setting sun was a huge orange "O" over the horizon. A sign for sure, agreed? Very good.

So whether you identify with them or not, I hope some of my brain children and observations will at least make you crack a smile.

• I love my Mama, and I love Obama. My Mama, Obama, my Mama, Obama. Everybody in the house put your hands up.


• I predict that Barack will be a popular boy's name in the next few years. And for girls, Baraccuda.


• There's a 20% chance that if McCain wins, he won't make it through the first four years. That's a 1 in 5 chance of a Palin presidency. President Palin. That's when I start praying publicly, people. For sure. Gah!


• Swing state residents will hereby be known as Swingers. Naughty naughty swingers.


• Just in case things get really really red, moving to Canada is fairly easy. I looked into this in 2004 - apparently so did a lot of my peeps.


• If things don't go my way tomorrow, I will need a few days. About 1460 days to be more exact. It would be best to not mention the R word to me during this time.


• A nod to 2004.


• My favorite electoral map.