Maybe it’s just me

Friday, November 20, 2009 at 12:16 pm (Hack for Hire)
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Do you think some media priorities are a tad askew, or is it just me?

Accountability Journalism*
An Associated Press dispatch, written by Erica Werner and Richard Alonso-Zaldivar, compares the House and Senate ObamaCare bills. We’d like to compare this dispatch to the AP’s dispatch earlier this week “fact checking” Sarah Palin’s new book. Here goes:

Number of AP reporters assigned to story:
• ObamaCare bills: 2
• Palin book: 11

Number of pages in document being covered:
• ObamaCare bills: 4,064
• Palin book: 432

Number of pages per AP reporter:
• ObamaCare bill: 2,032
• Palin book: 39.3

On a per-page basis, that is, the AP devoted 52 times as much manpower to the memoir of a former Republican officeholder as to a piece of legislation that will cost trillions of dollars and an untold number of lives. That’s what they call accountability journalism.

*Part of this article in the The Wall Street Journal online.

Thus ends today’s public service announcement.

Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.
~ Aldous Huxley

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A farewell and a hello

Tuesday, November 17, 2009 at 4:56 pm (Writing by Ear)
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When our beloved cat, CC, died a couple months ago, I didn’t even want to write about it — too sad. He had been sick for months with something the vets couldn’t quite diagnose (despite our spending big bucks on numerous tests), though the symptoms were all too evident — chronic diarrhea and major weight loss, the poor thing. When he died that one Monday, we were shocked, sad, and yes, relieved. Caring for him had taken a lot out of us.

Still, we missed him so much — he of the best purr ever. And we still had Julius to love. We weren’t ready for another cat — “at least not yet,” we’d tell ourselves.

But, turns out another cat was ready for us.

Born just 6 days after CC died. An orange male, just like Julius. One of a litter of 5 kittens from a pregnant stray who showed up at the house of our neigbhor’s daughter’s boyfriend. They named him “Rory” — and when we heard about him, we were pretty sure we couldn’t resist.

We were right.

He became part of our family last week. 10 weeks old. 2.7 pounds. Impossibly cute and funny. (At least we think so; Julius is not so sure.)

Besides, we didn’t have enough to do, right?

And then, there’s the upside — nothing like a sweet little fuzzball to make you forget about money troubles and endless home improvements and dire political straits and laundry that needs doing and just. say. awwwwwwww.

As all pet lovers know, Rory will never replace CC in our hearts — or Julius for that matter. But he already has a spot all his own, right alongside.

Another cat? Perhaps. For love there is also a season;
its seeds must be resown. But a family cat is not replaceable
like a worn-out coat or a set of tires. Each new kitten becomes
its own cat, and none is repeated. I am four cats old, measuring out
my life in friends that have succeeded but not replaced one another.
~ Irving Townsend

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Remembering another November 13

Friday, November 13, 2009 at 10:33 am (Youngest of Seven)
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It was one of those days I’ll always remember. And it makes me wonder why so many of “those days” people say are memorable are for something bad that happened…like the day Kennedy was shot, or the day Reagan was shot, or the day the Challenger shuttle exploded, or of course, 9/11. Can’t say I remember many really happy days in that way — my wedding day stands out, but little else. Maybe because I never had a child — do moms & dads remember their kids’ birth days that way? Or is the brain pre-wired to remember trauma more than delight? To feel pain more deeply than joy?

November 13, 2001, is memorable for me because it’s the day my dad died. Unexpectedly, though, thankfully, peacefully in his sleep. I remember everything about that day and the next few. As hard as they were, they answered a question that had troubled me for a long time — what would it be like to lose someone so close to me?

Until you live through it, you can’t know. But once you do, I think there’s a certain peace in that knowing. A “that which does not kill us makes us stronger” kind of peace amid the pain and sorrow. It allows you to understand and feel a kinship with others who have experienced similar losses — you’re all part of the club now. You know what it’s like. You can empathize, rather than simply sympathize.

Of course, I was very lucky to delay that experience until adulthood — how horrible, and how different, for a child to go through the same thing. I can’t imagine any peace in that circumstance.

I’ll spend today focusing on the good things I remember about my dad, and the positive lessons I took away from that sad day 8 years ago. It’s a luxury not everyone has — to remember a life and a death in a reflective, peaceful way — and I’m thankful.

We understand death for the first time
when he puts his hand upon one whom we love.
~ Madame de Stael

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