Monday, October 24, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
Libya
Why must we see pictures of Ghaddafi's death face on every online news source? One site offered a slide show of 31 shots of it.
Heavens.
And Secretary Clinton's assurance to those folks over there a few days ago (before we knew of Gadhafi's death) that "We're on your side" scares the heck out of me.
How can we know that? What is their side? Democracy maybe? Along with what?
How do you spell Qadhafi?
Heavens.
And Secretary Clinton's assurance to those folks over there a few days ago (before we knew of Gadhafi's death) that "We're on your side" scares the heck out of me.
How can we know that? What is their side? Democracy maybe? Along with what?
How do you spell Qadhafi?
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
This is America, remember
Toos told stories Sunday of life as a child in The Netherlands during WWII. She was nine years old when the Germans invaded in 1940. Before very long, there was no food; many people were starving.
Stealing a few potatoes from the German supply boat was a life and death endeavor. Toos and her little brother each had a stick with a nail fastened to the end for piercing a potato. "The German guards were there, always ready to shoot. We watched, and when the guard went around the other side of the boat, we ran and stuck a potato. We got four." Not much, but the family had four potatoes to boil that night for dinner.
People ate their pet rabbits. "You had to bring your rabbits in the house at night or they would be taken." Soon, there were no rabbits left. Then if you could get a rabbit from someone, you would pay dearly for it. Some folks would sell a rabbit, for as much as $75, and you would end up with a cat, head and tail and hind legs cut off so you couldn't tell. After a while there were no cats.
Toos's neighbors had a kitten, Mimi. On a desperate day, the mother went to her neighbor and asked, "Will you please kill Mimi for me?" Those children ate well that night and said, "We must save these bones for Mimi."
I'm about ten years younger than Toos. I was born in 1940 and not in Holland, so I knew nothing of these things.
We lived in West Los Angeles. I became aware of rationing--sugar, gasoline--and of our need to save tin. I remember hearing big guns being fired for practice. I remember some childhood apprehension now and then about war, but that would have been between rides on my scooter or playing Let's Pretend with other children in the front yard. I do remember VJ Day, September 2, 1945, my fifth birthday. I remember the newspaper my Aunt Allie brought to show us. Victory in Japan, a happy day.
I knew the name, Hitler, but knew little else of the German part of the war.
That's what I remember. But this is what I know: If my mother gave me a quarter, I could walk to the corner cafe and buy a bowl of chili or a hamburger. Potatoes? I had all I wanted, if I wanted any. I could choose what to eat and even had the luxury of being picky. I did not need to steal food, but I once stole a 5-cent candy from the nearby drug store--because I liked chocolate and did not have my usual nickel.
Yes, I had a nickel nearly every day, being so very far from starving and from the kind of fear Toos knew every one of her days.
Stealing a few potatoes from the German supply boat was a life and death endeavor. Toos and her little brother each had a stick with a nail fastened to the end for piercing a potato. "The German guards were there, always ready to shoot. We watched, and when the guard went around the other side of the boat, we ran and stuck a potato. We got four." Not much, but the family had four potatoes to boil that night for dinner.
People ate their pet rabbits. "You had to bring your rabbits in the house at night or they would be taken." Soon, there were no rabbits left. Then if you could get a rabbit from someone, you would pay dearly for it. Some folks would sell a rabbit, for as much as $75, and you would end up with a cat, head and tail and hind legs cut off so you couldn't tell. After a while there were no cats.
Toos's neighbors had a kitten, Mimi. On a desperate day, the mother went to her neighbor and asked, "Will you please kill Mimi for me?" Those children ate well that night and said, "We must save these bones for Mimi."
I'm about ten years younger than Toos. I was born in 1940 and not in Holland, so I knew nothing of these things.
We lived in West Los Angeles. I became aware of rationing--sugar, gasoline--and of our need to save tin. I remember hearing big guns being fired for practice. I remember some childhood apprehension now and then about war, but that would have been between rides on my scooter or playing Let's Pretend with other children in the front yard. I do remember VJ Day, September 2, 1945, my fifth birthday. I remember the newspaper my Aunt Allie brought to show us. Victory in Japan, a happy day.
I knew the name, Hitler, but knew little else of the German part of the war.
That's what I remember. But this is what I know: If my mother gave me a quarter, I could walk to the corner cafe and buy a bowl of chili or a hamburger. Potatoes? I had all I wanted, if I wanted any. I could choose what to eat and even had the luxury of being picky. I did not need to steal food, but I once stole a 5-cent candy from the nearby drug store--because I liked chocolate and did not have my usual nickel.
Yes, I had a nickel nearly every day, being so very far from starving and from the kind of fear Toos knew every one of her days.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Uh-oh
Protesters. Do they all know what and why they are protesting? I don't think so. You know there are "joiners" who just come in for the excitement of it. Or something like that. I mean, is protesting fun?
Do they have a purpose? A hoped-for end? If they do, I don't know what it is. I know the original protesters gathered to express dissatisfaction with the rich fat cats on Wall Street. But what did they hope to achieve? Hmmm.
Now, the owners of Zuccotti Park, which the protesters have been "occupying," have issued a statement. They, the owners, normally keep the park clean and trimmed and, most important for this issue, sanitary. They haven't been able to do their nightly power wash or any of the other procedures they normally do since September 16.
If the place is privately owned--and apparently it is--then the protesters, who are no doubt dirty and unsanitary themselves, should get out if asked to do so.
Clear? Yes, but I predict trouble.
Do they have a purpose? A hoped-for end? If they do, I don't know what it is. I know the original protesters gathered to express dissatisfaction with the rich fat cats on Wall Street. But what did they hope to achieve? Hmmm.
Now, the owners of Zuccotti Park, which the protesters have been "occupying," have issued a statement. They, the owners, normally keep the park clean and trimmed and, most important for this issue, sanitary. They haven't been able to do their nightly power wash or any of the other procedures they normally do since September 16.
If the place is privately owned--and apparently it is--then the protesters, who are no doubt dirty and unsanitary themselves, should get out if asked to do so.
Clear? Yes, but I predict trouble.
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