What’s with the pigs?

22 Sep

Whenever one of the kiddos is sick, we end up watching more television then is humanly healthy.  It’s hard not to, I mean, I’m a voracious lover of books and so are the kids, but when you’re under the weather flipping on the tube is just the easiest thing to do.  So, we’re watching and we’re watching and I’m thinking and I’m thinking (I never veg, I’m always thinking…), and it dawned on me the other day.  There are an awful lot of pigs in the world of kids TV.

There’s Babe, which I will confess wound up being much cuter then even I expected.

There’s Piglet.  Who doesn’t love the Hundred Acre Woods and the house at Pooh’s corner, and the related cast of characters, including the shy, humble pig(let)?

Of course, there’s the classic, all-time favorite pig – Wilbur and his BFF Charlotte (who’s much cuter then any spider I’ve ever met).

And then, there’s Olivia, the latest favorite piggie in our household.  If you’re not in the KNOW, Olivia is a book character created by Ian Falconer (an illustrator who’s done many a New Yorker cover design).  The book was an instant success when the first one was published nearly 10 years ago.  That success led to the usual marketing schtick of a variety of not-so-necessary-but-I-must-have products for kiddies, which in turn led to usual 15 minutes of fame that will befall any semi-celebrity.  An animated featured for Ms. Olivia, the pig.  I’m not knocking it.  Don’t tell my kids, but I love Olivia.  It’s just a cute little show.  Really.


But it all leads back to my original question.  What’s with all the pigs?  Dogs and cats are cute, of course, and naturally lend themselves to animated story lines.  And if they’re slightly snarky (viz a viz Garfield) they’re even better.  Bears are cute.  If you don’t smile at Pooh’s never ending quest to find more honey, well, you’re taking life way too seriously.  Monkeys are cute (and curious, if their name is George).  Ducks and bunnies are cutie-pie no-brainers.  Even mice can be made more appealing in the world of animation.

But pigs?


Have you ever seen a pig live and in the flesh on a farm?  Well, have you?  Cute is the absolute last word you’d apply to a pig.  Pigs aren’t exactly the most respected animal in history (often being referred to as dirty, filthy, beasts and being taboo in more than a few cultures).  Although, according to historical lore, the ancient Egyptians referred to the stars as piglets.  Perhaps the first instance of the “cute”-ification of the pig.  And in the Chinese Zodiac, the pig is the last of 12 signs, and is considered a lucky year to be born under.

Oh those lucky pigs (?)…

I’ll confess I really can not find a reasonable explanation for the many characterizations of cute in the form of a pig.  Oh, hold on, it’s time for Olivia.  I’ll do some more “research” and get back to you.

When the Going Gets Tough, Find a Paper Clip

30 Aug

So when the economy continues to move at a snail’s pace (ok, not that bad, a turtle’s pace?), how long until we say that perhaps economic “recovery” hasn’t quite yet made it’s way to the masses?

Actually, where has this recovery occurred?

In July of last year, the IMF said that the great economic recovery of 2010 would be stronger then they initially thought.  Stronger?  So pay no attention to the negative employment numbers lurking behind the curtain.

And forget about the re-readjusted housing numbers that show existing home sales have plunged by 27+% over this time last year.

Meanwhile the bankers are assuring us that global recovery is “on track.”  That might be more reassuring if they actually acted like they believe what they’re preaching…

Now I’m no expert, which in this instance might be a good thing since the experts are always “surprised” by that which seems obvious to the rest of us.  However, in looking around me, I can see that “recovery” has yet to grace us with its presence.

From the hollow aisles at every Target in my region (and I mean downright empty at times when sales used to bustle), to the cute house around the corner that just sold last month after being on the market for 26 (not days, not weeks, but months) ~ and, supposedly, we live in one of the most sought after area’s in our entire metro area.  Every other person I know has dealt with unemployment that stretched on for ridiculous periods of time (think 1.5 to 2 years, and this is for college educated corporate professionals actively searching for a new job).  Granted some are in Southern Cal and some are in Michigan (not the best places to job hunt right now), but still.  That’s bleak.

The author of this article at Fast Company.com agrees with me.  Believe it or not, I read the article after I was almost done writing my blog post, just goes to show, it’s near impossible to have a unique idea in today’s information age… that, or, great minds think alike?  Yeah, that’s the ticket.

So times are tough.  Things are rough.

What to do, what to do?

Start a small business.  That’s what you do.  There’s no better time than a recession to embark on a entrepreneurial venture (granted you can do it without racking up big debt).  Prices are down, opportunities are up, and besides this recession may leave us with an economy that can only sustain one “working” income per household.  That’s food for thought.

Create.  Innovate.  Barter your way into success if need be.

You’ve heard the story of the red paper clip… yes?  While that wasn’t a business venture and it was just prior to the onset of the recession, it shows how creative one can be with nothing but a paper clip in one’s possession.  If he can take a paper clip and barter/trade his way into a house (yes, a house), then YOU my friend can do anything.

You’ll find a plethora of coverage online about the great success that can be had during a recessionary economy.  Like this story on the Top 10 Reasons to Start Up in the Recession at Entrepreneur.com.

Where to start?  Inc.com has a current review of the best industries for start-ups here.

I’m working on my plans (I’ll keep you posted) which were actually delayed by life, but not derailed.  Roadblocks are simply hurdles, find the way over and keep on trucking.

In Memoriam

30 Aug

“To live in the hearts we leave behind is not to die.”
–Thomas Campbell

I’m watching the Emmys right now and it’s that part that tugs at your heart strings.  You know, the part where they run through the images of all those from the entertainment industry who no longer walk among us.  Cultural icons like Dennis Hopper, Lynn Redgrave, Lena Horne, Peter Graves, Robert Culp and John Forsythe.  Those who left much too soon like Brittney Murphy, Corey Haim and Gary Coleman.

These are all people who touched the fabric of our cultural evolution.  Who left their mark on the lives of many they never knew.  They will be missed.

On a more personal level, this morning my mother lost one of her best friends of over 30 years after a short fight against cancer.  My mother’s friend, Clare, was so much more to our family than I can capture here.   But she was that rare breed of person who truly cared about something simply because it interested her friends.  Heart of gold.  When I made the choice to become a single mother just shy of my 21st birthday, in a highly educated and driven community (those things just weren’t done in our community back then), Clare was the one who supported my mother while she supported my decision.  I have so many memories of her coming to visit my baby son, showering him with hugs & sweet kisses.  She was one of the first who said to me early on “you did good, kiddo.”  And she meant it.  Over the years, she gave one of those awesome hugs to my future husband, knitted blankets for my future children, my niece and my nephew.  She was front and center for almost every important family moment I can think.  She was a light that warmed the area through which she walked.

Yesterday, August 29, was the birthday of my son’s best friend and first college roommate – Andrew.   Sadly, it’s a birthday that my son and Andrew’s other college friends get together in order to remember what joy Andrew brought to their lives.  Andrew passed away during the spring break of their freshman year.  It was a shocking moment, for there wasn’t the car crash, or drinking binge or any of the other events that parents worry most about, rather Andrew suffered from a rare disorder brought about by Mar-Fan Syndrome.  Mar-Fan Syndrome is an inherited and genetic disorder causing a breakdown of the connective tissue.  This stress on the body’s tissue causes debilitating weakness of the carrier’s heart.  And so, Andrew died of a heart attack at 18.  The days and weeks that passed were filled with tears, and grief, and a hope that his parents and his sister would find solace in the love that so many had for Andrew.  On a heartening note, his parents enveloped our son with true warmth and they were able to grieve together.   The closeness that he has with them has brought a comfort to him, in hopes that he can comfort them, that in turn brought some comfort to us as we worried whether the stress of it all would be too much.

Andrew – know that you are missed and that we think of you every day.

Clare – rest in peace and thank you for being a guiding force in what I can now honestly say was a success in my early path of motherhood.

Please take a minute to enjoy your family, your life, and your gifts from day to day.  Our time here is way too precious.

Kindness of Strangers?

28 Aug

This past week my husband and I watched Spike Lee’s documentary “If God Is Willing and Da Creek Don’t Rise” on HBO.  Excellent, but painful to see.

Of course, we’ve followed the story closely from the beginning.  We have extended family members who had relatives living in New Orleans when Hurricane Katrina first hit.  None of them, not one of them, has ever moved back.  If you watched the documentary, it’s easy to understand why.  The stories that came out of that horrendous week are, well, horrendous.  The police corruption, the death, the mayhem.  Unfathomable.

What struck me most in reflection was the overall lack of kindness among strangers.  I’m certain there were many stories of  resilience and coming together in the face of adversity that aren’t covered as much.  But the depth and breadth of the stories of pure nonsense, of using a tragedy to fuel one’s own hate of another, of cities determined to keep New Orleans poorest and most destitute people out of their areas (to the point of shooting pedestrians without a word), is absolutely shocking.

And New Orleans simply brought to light that which seems to seethe under the surface of certain areas in this country.

Did I tell you the story, earlier this summer, of taking my morning walk when 3 blocks from my house, as I crossed the street on a green light, some unknown man in a random car tried to run me over as he yelled the N word out of his window at me?

Yes, we have issues.

On the flip side, one morning this past winter, I was out with my two youngest kiddos, after dropping my husband off at work, low on gas and without my wallet.  Apparently the gas gauge was in a funky mood because it turned out I was actually on “E” and the car died on the side of the highway.  It was 20 degrees outside.  We have roadside assistance.  So I picked up the cell phone to call and wouldn’t you know – no service…  Long story short, more than a few people stopped but I was getting strange vibes from some, and wary of who to trust (remember I had small children in tow).   A gentleman pulled his car over, an IT repair service vehicle, and perhaps it’s the techie heart in me or the kind smile, or that little voice, but something told me, he was sincere in his offer of help.  He not only paid for and got gas for the car, but he waited to make sure we off and capable of getting home safely before he departed.  And refused to give me his name or phone number to return the money.  Saying simply “pay it forward.”  Which we will, my husband is under strict orders to assist a woman & her children in need, if the situation should arise.

In both situations, I was a vulnerable woman (who happens to be black) approached by random men (who happened to be white) and of course, depending on the individual the situations left me feeling quite different.  Neither caused me to make a commentary about a whole group of people.  It’s time we afforded minority groups the same courtesy.

There is a need in our country today to stop trying to sweep under the carpet that which is painful to confront.  Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away.

The polarization that threatens to encroach upon our very well being is slowly seeping through the edges of our society.

The only way to rid ourselves of the “race card” is to stop playing the “race game.”  Period.  And that means saying no to racism in every form, every day.

I hope we can agree on that.

On the other hand, I hope that we can get back to (or perhaps finally beginning to cultivate) that Norman Rockwellesque vision of a country where the kindness of strangers is a given, no matter the appearance of the persons involved.

And you know something, it can all start with a smile.

Date Night

15 Aug

Recently I stumbled across an article on why breakups are so horribly depressing.  One reason being the areas activated in your brain when you’re in love are the same general areas of brain activity that occur in an addict.  Yes, really, an addict.  That’s wild.

Another reason given was the fact that when one couple breaks up, it has a domino effect of sorts.  Did you know that your chances of getting a divorce are 75% higher if another couple you are close to splits?

That’s wild too.

So I was moved to plan a last minute date night.  Quick.  As in Thursday evening, I was making plans for us for Friday night.

When I was younger, I imagined marriage as this stifling place where Date Night occurred once a week.  And the mere thought of that gave me the blues.  If only I’d known.  Once a week date night is a luxury.  And when you have little kiddos, a funky job schedule that you can’t complain about (it is a recession after all, be thankful if you’ve got a job) and live life sans nanny (as we do) it’s hard to get a date night once every other week.  So we work on once a month (or so).  But back to school plans and end of summer family plans got in the way.  August had been left unplanned.

Until I read those stats, and reflected on how easy it is to get caught up in L.I.F.E. and forget about dedicating time to you, just the two of you, without guilt.  At least I feel guilt whenever we embark on a plan that doesn’t include the kiddos.  Perhaps that’s the pitfall of stay at home parenting.  You’re so seeped into the lives of little people, so enraptured by their awesomeness, so grateful for the blessing, that you (or at least I) feel guilt when you take time out for yourself as parents.  Of course, being a parent is just one identity among many, and being a spouse is just as important, after all the love of your spouse led to the beauty of your family.

So I called up our neighborhood babysitter, who was thankfully available last minute for a Friday night.  C. you rock!   And off we went last night.  Awesome Chinese at the River Market with a view of storm clouds rolling in over the horizon.  People watching over a drink at our favorite Italian bistro in the rain, under an awning on the 2nd story balcony.  After the hottest day of the year, a night in the breeze of the rain was so liberating and romantic…

Capped the night off with dancing at a local spot to jammin’ music by a great D.J., so good, we city slickers thought he must have been from out of town.  But no, he was a small town Kansas boy, who grew up hunting and farming (yes, DH did ask).  So, I learned to throw another stereotype out of the window.

Normally, I drink Guinness.  Unless it’s a fancy pants night, or they don’t serve it, and then I’ll have Riesling.  Those are my standards.  Last night, for some reason, I ordered a Cosmopolitan.  You know, one of those modern vodka martinis made pink by a splash of cranberry juice.  And then I had another.  Just two, which seemed fine at the time.

Note to self:  don’t do vodka, not after pot stickers and Gong Bao Shrimp…

My stomach lodged a complaint this morning at 5 a.m. and proceeded to complain all day long.

I was in bed all day which, if you know me, never, ever, ever, happens.  I’m usually up by 6 at the latest.

So much for romantic memories, right?


DH got up with the kids (he’s a wonderful father, but early mornings aren’t his style, especially not on a Saturday morning), played with them, dressed them, took them for their back to school haircuts, cooked and fed them lunch, played with them some more, snack time, another outing, and dinner.  I do believe he even threw in a load of laundry.  Won’t know until tomorrow because I have no intention of thinking about laundry until tomorrow (except, I guess, for this brief mention in blogworld).

Yes, he did everything except dust the ceiling fan.

And date night ended up being 10 reasons why I love my husband, and one step closer to that 1 in 4 couples who survive the travails of friends breaking up, and one rare time when we won’t have to fight over who gets the leftover Chinese.  It’s all yours babe.

(some) Movies are still Great Films

23 Jul

Recently, I was reading the Economist online. Their culture blog features an article entitled “The Art of Mark Ruffalo.” My first thought, at quick glance, was “wow, he’s an artist too?”  My brain has been trained, in this modern age of smash & grab, hit & run, blast you to death cinema, to think of actors in movies as a trade and cinematic actors as a dying art form.  When you say “actor” (at least in American terminology), often the term “artist” is not used interchangeably anymore.

I find this incredibly sad.

I was an aspiring actress once.  Ok, it was in middle school.  But I was drama this, drama that, drama, drama everywhere – and then there were the acting classes.  Really though, I watched each year’s Academy Awards in the fashion of Abigail Breslin in “Little Miss Sunshine.”  My mind would run rampant with fantasies of wearing a sweeping elegant gown while accepting that “big” award.  Later, realizing I have a flair for the bossier side of life, I flirted with the idea of directing.  And as an adult, finding a passion in writing, I’ve toyed with the notion of being a screenwriter.  Or I did, until I worked in the “biz” for a year and saw that screenwriters in Hollywood are something akin to Rodney Dangerfield.  And if I want that little respect, I can continue to sit around the house with kids all day (at least they’re cute while they ignore me).

I grew up in a Masterpiece Theater meets M*A*S*H household (Mom, Dad, in that order of course).  And classic movies were the norm on weekends, from Paul Newman to early Bond films to Hitchcock to Claudette Colbert to Cary Grant to Shirley Temple, and everything in between.  No, I’m not THAT old.  Most of these movies predated even my parents, but we all enjoyed the cinematic structure of a great drama.  Suspense, action and science fiction were favorites as well.  But the expectation of great acting and a good story was never far behind.  Could they manage to make a film like “The Sting” these days?  Very doubtful.

Comedy was popular as well.  But again we were geared toward either classic film or british television for laughs, All in the Family and Saturday Night Live were the exceptions.

I’m a Sundance Channel junkie.  Here I can find great drama and foreign films to my heart’s content, my latest faves being “Caché” and “The Lives of Others“.

Although my parents were medical professionals by trade, they had a refined sense of cinematic structural importance and what makes a good movie great.  My brother and I were fortunate enough (or perhaps, misfortunate enough) to pick this up.  We are the quintessential armchair critics.  Exchanging notes along the lines of: Movie X had a fine story line, but the acting didn’t quite measure up.  Movie B featured awe-inspiring special effects, too bad it lacked on every thing else.  When either of us sees the rare movie that ranks as “great” by our family standards, we are quick to pick up the phone and tell the other “you MUST see that movie, it’s not just a movie it’s a film…”

I made such a call earlier this week.  The day after I saw was blown away by Inception.” Now, I’ll be the first to admit, great cinematic features are such a rarity these days that one must stop one’s self from over-emphasizing the “greatness” of a movie until one has taken some time to reflect on said movie – the morning after.  And, of course, the special effects in “Inception” don’t hurt.  Pretty cool would be the technical term.  But the morning after I simply loved the storyline more.  I won’t get too specific – that would be a MAJOR spoiler.  But, I’ll tell you, as I told my brother, it’s a must see film.  They just don’t make them like that anymore.  The intricacy of the parallel storylines.  The depth of the characters (read: actors) in deed and in naming.  The trigger-point perfect editing and soundtrack.  The ability to leave you with the feeling that you must, absolutely must, question the world around you.  Stellar on all levels.  That’s a rarity.  If you haven’t seen it, go see it!  As my brother & his wife are doing right now.

So, that brings us back to Mark Ruffalo.  He has a new film out “The Kids Are All Right” about a married lesbian couple (Annette Benning, Julianne Moore) dealing with family acceptance or lack thereof.  While the article in question veers off onto a tangent about the inherent sexiness of Mark Ruffalo (I don’t disagree), I appreciate him most for his great depth of ability while channeling a character.  He has that je ne sais quoi that seems to allude so many of today’s actors.  Granted, in this movie, he’s surrounded by true thespians in their own rights, so I’ve no doubt the movie is good, if not great.  But, really, I’m just pleased to see that “acting” is still considered an art form, at least in some circles.

Can I get an Island with that Vowel?

21 Jul


So today I randomly tweeted with a gal I’m connected to @nachtschwarmer.  She’ll be out of a job soon and tweeted that she’d gotten a first interview on her search for a new job.  Hooray, said she.  I agreed.

I don’t know Tania outside of Twitter, so I always make a point of taking that time to browse through a tweep’s bio & blog/website whenever we “engage” in convo.  That’s my way of staying on top of my social networking sphere.

Her Twitter bio led me to her website (did I mention she’s looking for a J.O.B.?), which in turn led me to her Tumblr blog.  Her Tumblr blog had a post from The Daily What (another website) with a picture of an awesome island abode and that post came from here:

Epic House is Epic

Did you catch that?  Did you click on that link?  Well, did-ja??  What a house! What an absolutely freakin’ awesome way to live.  Yeah, yeah, I know, where’s the bathroom they say… That’s not the point!

My overtaxed, rushed and harried brain went … Ooooo.  And then it said Aaaahhhh.  Ooohhhhh. Cue the dreams (just saw Inception, excellent!) of me, dear hubby, and the four kids whisking off to some remote island to live in peaceful, harmonic bliss….

And now for the kicker, here’s how my brain works:

See picture of blissful, romantic hut on some remote island.

Find out where said island is (in this case Bali).

Head over to Google (what else?).

Run a quick search on houses/abodes available for sale in this locale.

Realize that said island is very remote, so chances of DH finding an English speaking job to “transfer” to are practically nil.

Google houses available for short term rent on said island.

Bingo.  Find a reasonable alternative to buying in paradise.

Realize that island living comes with rather large pests.

Head back over to Google and search for common pests in said locale.

Run across this other blog that mentions a trip to Fiji and mosquito netting around each bed (argh! mosquitos? doesn’t that mean malaria risk), read through article only to find out that mosquito netting isn’t for mosquitos at all, but rather for spiders (ick!) the size of a human hand (WHAT?!?!)…

Ok, that’s Fiji, not Bali (yes, I do know a bit of geography).  Regardless, they’re not THAT far away from each other either.  So…

Google to see which islands have the least pest problems.

Find out that Hawaii, Ireland, and New Zealand are the only islands without snakes.

~Oh snakes!! That’s right.  Don’t particularly care for snakes either…~

Read further to discover that Hawaii MAY indeed actually have snakes, scratch that one, really not an option anyway being the most expensive of the three.

Make a note to self that future family vacation to Ireland will be that much nicer knowing there are no snakes.  Probably too cool there for snakes anyway.  By the same token, too cool for me to enjoy what I want out of an island, which is warm, tropical weather.

Remember seeing a list on Forbes of the top places to live in the world.  Check list.  Yes, there it is.  New Zealand.

Narrow in on New Zealand, which has the friendliest people this blogger has ever run across.  Haven’t  been there, but have met more than a few traveling Kiwis and they rock!

Wind up here, looking at pictures of quaint, not-too-remote, houses on NZ.

Now if I could just find a tropical part of New Zealand where we could afford to live, work, and buy a house, I’d be all set…


What was I doing here anyway?