So, you survived purchasing the

So, you survived purchasing the turkey, right? It wasn't that bad, was it?

I told you so.

Anyway, today we will be moving right along to the preliminaries for prepping your bird.

After dinner tomorrow night---which would be Wednesday---make
sure you pull it out of the freezer and put it in the sink to defrost.
It takes some time to shake off all the ice, so just leave it in its
wrappings and let it sit in the sink. Pour yourself an adult beverage
and walk away, righteous in the knowledge that you're getting ready for
Thursday, even if you're going to go and have a bourbon while you watch
The West Wing.
You will be leaving it in the sink all night long to defrost. You could
put it in a roasting pan and put it in the fridge to defrost, but I'm
sure your fridge is already loaded with beer and wine for the upcoming
dinner and you don't have room for a bird in a pan in there. Honestly,
this is easier and contrary to the conventional wisdom of today, you
won't die of salmonella poisoning if you opt for the sink method of
defrosting.
Yet, if you're really paranoid and would prefer the fridge method, know
that you'll want to put your turkey in the fridge on Wednesday morning.
It simply takes longer. I suppose this would be a good time to talk
about stuffing. You assumed you were supposed to buy stuffing, right?
Well, ok, good for you then. I'm glad you picked some up because I
forgot to tell you to do so. I'm liking the fact you're a problem
solver: that makes my job all the easier. Well done, my friend. Well
done, indeed!
I always buy Pepperidge Farm stuffing
because I believe it tastes the best. Plus it's what Mom uses, so it's
got that whole "taste of my youth" thing going for it. If you opt for
this, I would recommend buying the Pepperidge Farm stuffing with the
blue label. It's loose stuffing and I find it works a lot better than
the cubed stuff. More pliable and easily shoved into turkey cavities.
But, if you're diametrically opposed to the notion of loose stuffing,
get the cubed stuff. No big whoop. The Pepperidge Farm stuffing tastes
good; somewhat spicy, but not too much to turn anyone off. If you've
seen a recipe for oyster stuffing somewhere and want to try it out,
well, I'm not your girl. I grew up in Nebraska and have lived in
landlocked states ever since: what the hell would I know about oysters?
Go bug some east coast bloggers for that info. There were some other
things you needed to pick up at the store besides stuffing, like a ball
of string, vegetable oil, a granny-smith apple and a garlic bulb, but
I'm sure you got those as well, so you're really on top of it. Way to
go, my little turkey-newbie. Top marks! Coming up in our next
installment: How to not freak out when you shove your hand inside the
turkey!

Posted by: Kathy at 04:17 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Jonathan gets it absolutely correct

Jonathan gets it absolutely correct about the AFI's list of nominations for best movie quotes:

By quotes, the AFI explains, they mean the greatest "quips,
comebacks, and catchphrases." Swell.Why pay homage to great writing
when you have catchphrases to exhalt?
I'm going to assume that we won't be seeing a beautiful, heart-rending
line like "She gets the winter passion, and I get the dotage?" Nah, who
needs that when you've got "I'll be back."

Now, I've perused the list. The whole
list. (Never mind why I did it: I did, indeed, have some time to kill
yesterday) You can find the four hundred nominated quotes here
(in PDF format). I have a number of problems with this list, but the
main one is that more than a few of them are comebacks---and they don't
provide the line the comeback is responding to. To put it bluntly (and
crudely): it's a half-assed list. Now while some doozies are nominated
in their entirety (i.e. "Surely you can't be serious. I am serious. And stop calling me Shirley.")
most of them are stand-alones: apparently, you are neither entitled to
context, nor to enjoy more of the brilliant writing which made it a
memorable line in the first place. Sigh. Anyway, Jonathan's trying to
rectify the situation: go over and nominate your best movie line ever.

Here are mine:

When Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept, for their
were no more worlds left to conquer. Benefits of a classical education.---Die Hard

You know you don't have to act with me, Steve. You don't have to say
anything, and you don't have to do anything. Not a thing. Oh, maybe
just whistle. You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put
your lips together and... blow.--- To Have and Have Not. (this is
one the list, but it's a fave. Forgive me for repeating it) (Moment of
abject admiration for Lauren Bacall. Gawd. To be able to pull off a
Lauren Bacall moment in real life. Wouldn't that be something? Sigh. )
There may be honor among thieves, but there's none in politicians. Lawrence of Arabia

What do you believe in, then? Well, I believe in the soul, the cock,
the pussy, the small of a woman's back, the hanging curve ball, high
fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent,
overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I believe
there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and
the designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core
pornography, opening your presents Christmas morning rather than
Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that
last three days.
---Bull Durham (this is on the list in abbreviated format, because
there are dirty words and ideas in there. Personally, I love the bit
about the novels of Susan Sontag being self-indulgent, overrated crap,
but hey, that's just me.)
To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance. ---An Ideal Husband

Posted by: Kathy at 03:44 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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God love the literary hoi-polloi:

God love the literary hoi-polloi:

Who says people don't care about books? For the second year
in a row, controversy has swirled around the National Book Awards. Last
year literary lions were scandalized when horror novelist Stephen King
received the medal for outstanding contribution to American letters.
This year eyebrows rose among some critics, authors, and publishers
over the five finalists in fiction.
The main beef seemed to be that the finalists, all New Yorkers, are not
well known, and that their books are obscure or esoteric or both, as
well as poor sellers -- this in a year when several literary
heavyweights published books.
"I realize that I'm the heathen at the gate here," Laurence J.
Kirshbaum, chairman of Time Warner Book Group, said in an interview
yesterday, "but I believe that books which resonate in our society and
-- yes, to use that awful word -- that sell should be recognized in
awarding these honors." For a committee of five writers to make the
choice, Kirshbaum said, "is much too limited to reflect the book
business and the role of books in our culture."
The winner, announced Wednesday night, was Lily Tuck for her historical
novel "The News From Paraguay." The other finalists were Sarah
Shun-lien Bynum for her first novel, "Madeleine Is Sleeping;" Christine
Schutt for "Florida"; Joan Silber for "Ideas of Heaven: A Ring of
Stories"; and Kate Walbert for "Our Kind: A Novel in Stories."
Rick Moody was chairman of the fiction panel, which also included
Randall Kenan, Stewart O'Nan, Linda Hogan, and Susan Straight.
After the finalists were announced last month, novelist Tom McGuane was
quoted in The New Yorker as saying the award was "apparently tanking."
Last week, in The New York Times Book Review, critic Laura Miller wrote
that none of the finalists "could be reasonably expected to please more
than a small audience." Citing Nielsen BookScan, a rating agency,
Miller noted that four of the five books had sold fewer than 2,000
copies. She also suggested the panelists had deliberately thumbed their
noses at the "literary establishment" by tilting toward previously
unnoticed books.

So, lemme see if I've got this whole brouhaha straight: authors of
literary fiction, whose books don't sell nearly as well as say, John
Grisham, have their knickers in a twist because none of the books
nominated for this year's National Book Award have sold well. The
authors and their works are "obscure," they say.
Yet, amazingly enough, these bozos are the same idiots who can't sell
enough of their own work to finance the production of said work. They
willingly rely upon the sales of popular fiction to pay their advances,
while simultaneously never failing to bite the burgeois hand that feeds
them by bemoaning the Decline of Western Civilization popular fiction
represents to them.
It's the height of lunacy.
{Insert premature evil cackle of triumph here}
I forsee a time in the future, when my manuscript is published and the
royalty checks have started to roll in. I will be lazing about on the
beach of my newly purchased Caribbean shack whilst pondering on my
cabana boy's beautiful, thonged butt. Tearing my mind away from his
glorious gluteus maximus for a brief moment, I will raise my up glass
full of frothy pina colada and will toast the reading public's absolute
boredom with literary fiction and the pretentiousness found therein.
Because their boredom will have made me stinking rich, and, I
will know that somewhere in Manhattan, some young, earnest Princeton
grad will be setting down the words he believes will become The Great
American Novel(TM). I know he will truly believe this will be the
novel that becomes not only a National Book Award winner, but that it
could take the Pulitzer for fiction as well. It could even make some
money, too, he believes. Why, he's the next Steinbeck! He's sure of it.
Toward that end, he will work industriously at producing beautiful
prose and will fret over the placement of every single comma. He will
worry about getting the inevitable heartbreak just right.

While I know that he will probably get published, that his work will be well-reviewed by the New York Times Book Review, I also know he will never have what I have, simply because his work will bore the shit
out of his audience and no one will ever buy it to read it. They will
buy it because the critics have said they should buy it, not because
they actually want to read it. Yet, when they actually settle down to
read it...well, they'll keep falling asleep and the book will
ultimately end up gathering dust on a bookshelf. Our earnest Princeton
grad, ultimately, will have to take that teaching job to make ends meet
because his royalty checks won't pay the rent.
And I will still be gazing at my cabana boy's glorious ass.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:23 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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{click for bigger} Got

{click for bigger}
Got this in the mail today and I thought I'd share. Guy is my nephew
and the eldest of the grandkids. He's a good kid and I'm pleased that
he got with the program and graduated. It was kind of dicey there for a
time, but he pulled it together and will have the paper when he
finishes with his finals. YAY!
Congrats Guy!

Posted by: Kathy at 03:13 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Wooooh. While being universally panned

Wooooh. While being universally panned by the critics, it seems Alexander has one defender: Gore Vidal.

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - While critics savaged Oliver
Stone's long-waited epic "Alexander," novelist and social activist Gore
Vidal rallied to the $160 million movie's defense saying it was
"barrier-breaking" because of its frank depiction of bisexuality.
Stone's film opened on Wednesday to near universal pans from critics
who called it everything from a "noble failure" to an "indifferent
epic." The Charlotte, North Carolina, Observer said the movie was "an
act of hubris so huge, that, in Alexander's time, it would draw
lightning bolts from contemptuous gods." Vidal said the critics failed
to see it was a seminal movie because of its treatment of Alexander's
bisexuality.
{...} In an interview with Reuters, Vidal said the film was "a
breakthrough in what you can make films about. Movies are always the
last to register changes in society and this movie does it." Vidal's
novels and plays, including the hit drama "The Best Man," often deal
with once taboo gay themes. He said American filmmakers had thrown up a
wall against showing bisexuality out of fear of alienating the public.
"But I don't see why they should be so upset since the public practices
it," he said.

{Insert shaking of head here}

What have you got here? One revisionist historian defending yet another revisionist historian. Alexander's
not a "seminal" work (poor choice of words there, eh, Gore?)because it
shows Alexander the Great's bisexuality. Give it a rest, Gore.
Bisexuality was as common in those times as internet porn is nowadays.
Ancient Greeks and Romans enjoyed buggering young men. Why? Because
young men's bodies were seen in those times as the height of
aesthetics. Everyone who's ever had to take a course in school that
touched on ancient Greeks and Romans knows this. You haven't lived
until the nun who taught you Latin talked about the prevalence of
buggery in those days. Yet, even for me, it wasn't taught as "Buggery
brought down the Roman and Greeks," but rather that this is how they
did things back then. Modern notions of right or wrong never came into
it. It was simply a lesson in different cultures, different aesthetic
standards, different morals leading to the cultural acceptablitity of
different sexual practices. Portraying Alexander's switchhitting isn't
"barrier breaking." It was an attempt by Ollie Stone to get it right,
which he failed to do, once again. Why didn't he get it right? Well,
while I haven't seen the movie (meaning I make no claims that this next
statement is 100% accurate), reportedly Stone's script has Alexander
actually in
love with Hephaestion. Uh, I don't think so, bub. Bisexuality was
common then, yes. Not denying that one little bit. But that doesn't
mean Alexander loved his lover. Just because Plato wrote poetry about
the beauty of the male form doesn't mean even he fell in love with the
young boys he was buggering. That act, in Plato's day and age, was seen
as, well, unseemly. Shameful, in fact: you played with men, you were infatuate with them, but you most certainly didn't love them.

What was Ollie trying to accomplish here? Well, I'm pretty sure he was trying to push acceptabilty of bisexuality---today's
notion of bisexuality, meaning you can fall in love with either a man
or a woman and the matching genitalia is an after the fact thing---onto
Alexander's relationship with Hephaestion, hence furthering (or so
Ollie would think)the public's acceptance of bisexuality. After all, if
Alexander was bi, why shouldn't such a thing be publically accepted?
More revisionist history aimed at pushing forward an agenda Stone finds
should be commonly accepted today. And Gore Vidal, of course, would
back this agenda, because if he didn't what would happen to all the
revisionist history he tries to dump onto the public every day of the
week? This movie is far from "barrier breaking" to my mind: it's going
to wind up marginalizing the GLBT community because Stone got it wrong.
Let me explain: a few years ago, I was having coffee with Mr. H. and
his then boyfriend and we were chatting about seeing a A Beautiful Mind.
Mr. H's boyfriend was upset over the fact that John Nash's numerous
bisexual relationships weren't going to be shown in the film---at all.
Mr. H. took issue with this, saying it was the director's choice. It
was Ron Howard's film and he could do with it as he wished, but noted
that there, indeed, was a scene in which Nash's bisexuality was
acknowledged; it was that you just had to be looking for it as it was
subtle. This wasn't good enough for the boyfriend: he wanted it all out
there. Mr. H., who by this time was a bit exasperated, put an end to
the conversation by in effect asking, would you rather it was
completely ignored or if Howard had put a scene in there that got it
completely wrong? To consolidate his position, he then went onto to
explain the obvious: that Nash's bisexuality wasn't the central focus
of the story; that, yes, it happened, but it really didn't matter all
that much because it wasn't central to his schizophrenia, which was
what the story was actually about. The boyfriend wasn't convinced, but
he grudgingly accepted Mr. H's position. Personally, I think Mr. H. was
right. Does inaccurately portraying Alexander's relationship with
Hephaestion---portraying their relationship in a 21st Century
light---help Obvious Ollie's goal of furthering tolerance and barrier
breaking? I don't think it does. If Ollie wanted to get it right, he
could have. He could have accurately portrayed Alexander's bisexuality
and it would have furthered the knowledge we all gained when we were in
school and were taught that the Ancient's liked to get it on with men
as well as women; that they didn't think there was anything wrong with
it; that perhaps it didn't turn out so bad for them, so what's wrong
with it nowadays? That's understanding:
showing someone something in a different light and getting that person
to think differently about the issue being contested. But Ollie didn't
do that. He revised the history in question. He pushed his own
agenda on the story, getting it completely wrong in the process. He
didn't give his audience credit for having brains. He didn't further
understanding of bisexuality. Instead, he shoved it down their throats
and wants to force them to come to the correct conclusion. Which does
those of us who believe the GLBT community shouldn't be marginalized,
but rather embraced and given the same rights as heterosexuals, no
favors in bringing those who think differently on board. I've said in
the past that when people who are opposed to what gays and lesbians do
in their bedrooms actually manage to mind their own business, they will
come to see there there is absolutely no freakin' difference between a homosexual couple and a heterosexual one.
This is what I have seen. This is what I believe. By focusing entirely
way too much on Alexander's bedroom, Obvious Ollie didn't push
tolerance forward, but rather set it back.

Posted by: Kathy at 03:03 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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And speaking of Rottweilers, this

And
speaking of Rottweilers, this is Nessie.
She's the newest addition to the Doctor's and ML's household. She
joined up a little over a month ago, having been rescued from the
Hastings no-kill shelter and she's just the sweetest thing. While she's
part-Rottweiler (she's definitely a mix, but theories vary as to what
her other half is. I'm of the school that thinks the other half is part
spaniel, because of her body shape and hair, but I'm no expert on dog
breeds) she doesn't have a mean bone in her body and she's just too
cute not to share with everyone.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:55 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Seeing as how we're really

Seeing as how we're really poor right now, there hasn't been a whole
lot of extra coin to spend on fun stuff. Like CD's. Now, I'm fine with
this, for the most part, but I really wanted this CD. So, the husband, being the master of BitTorrent that he is, downloaded it for me a few weeks ago.

Do I feel guilty about stealing this music?

Not one little bit. I've given a big chunk of change over the years to U2. I've bought their CD's. I still have "Under a Blood Red Sky"
on vinyl. I've even seen them in concert. Plus, I'm giving them some
free PR here, so I think they can't forgive me this one download.
Besides, Bono has already forgiven me:

"It's never nice to have a thief in charge of your release campaign," lead singer Bono told Reuters in a recent interview.

"However, it's up there. Bootlegs are fine if you're making a few of
them for your friends, but if it's big business, bad-ass crime, I don't
think you want to be a part of that and that's what this is." Some
commentators have suggested that publicity surrounding the loss, and
speculation that the release date of one of the year's most eagerly
awaited albums may be brought forward, could boost the record's success
rather than dent it.

Ok, so not really, but if he really wants my money, he'll have to come
and get me. Mr. H.---the ulimate U2 fan---told me not to feel guilty
about it at all. He truly believes that this "theft" is part of U2's PR
blitz. He also told me he wouldn't be surprised if it was Bono himself
who uploaded the disc. U2 is very media-savvy, so I wouldn't be
surprised, either, but I still felt guilty. Then I got over it the
minute Mr. H. said he wanted a copy. He's running out to buy the
limited edition release today, so his purchase will have to cover both
of our asses.
Anyway, as far as How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb itself is concerned, well, sit right back and let me tell you a tale...

...it's damn good!

For me, it's a logical continuation of All That You Can't Leave Behind. U2 has never been afraid to evolve with the times. If they hadn't been, well, we'd still be getting albums that sounded like Boy.
They're not afraid of going someplace new. They listen to the music
around them, pilfer bits and pieces, adapt it to their original style
and create something new in the process. Something that's still
entirely U2, yet different. Think about the jump from The Joshua Tree to Achtung Baby! Bomb is different in that, they're revisiting some of their old styles and then are taking that
to someplace new and exciting. Mr. H. is of the opinion that the album
as a whole is fairly mellow. I would agree with this. It is mellow, and
if mellow U2 bothers you, well, this isn't the album for you. Here's
the song by song takedown:
1. Vertigo: Rockin'! This song, while great on its own, reminds me a lot of "Mysterious Ways" from Achtung Baby! in that it takes no prisoners.

2. Miracle Drug: A little mellow, but still a wee bit edgy.

3. Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own: or as I like to call it, Stuck in a Moment: Redux.
Yet another song devoted to telling people that it's ok to ask for help
when they're depressed. Nice message and all, but I'm not really all
that hot on this song and have a habit of skipping it. 4. Love and Peace. Or Else: This is one hot song. Man. Edge
starts off with a riff straight out of Texas. In comes Larry with the
drums, then instantly they just let Adam go nuts with his bass. It
blares and thumps and it sounds so damn good. Just as you're enjoying the music, Bono comes in and gets down and dirty. I'm not easy on my knees. No, Bono, baby, we know you're not easy on your knees, which is why we love you admitting it. This harkens right back to Rattle and Hum for me. Yet, Bono finally learned how to sing the blues without screaming. This is how he should have sung When Love Comes To Town.

5. City of Blinding Lights: Yet another mellow song with a nice melody, but it's definitely a harsh comedown after Love and Peace. Or Else. As a result, I hate to say it, but it's somewhat forgettable.

6. All Because of You: Edge does a guitar riff similar to the one on Where the Streets Have No Name, and while it's much shorter, it still takes you right back to The Joshua Tree, yet that's where the similarity stops. The song is very pop and is somewhat bouncy.

7. A Man and a Woman:
The song tells the tale of love, and how hard it is to understand what
each sex is thinking. It's laid back and melodious, with Bono sounding
a wee bit like a lounge singer on the chorus, but it totally fits.
8. Crumbs From Your Table: Somewhat sultry. I adore Bono
singing "Cool down, Mama." Pretty much has the same theme as the
previous two songs, so it fits well.
9. One Step Closer: Beautiful melodious beginning. There are
hints of guitar twang blended with a gorgeous Lanois-style keyboard
excursion. Since I don't have the actual CD, well, I can't tell you if
Daniel himself played, but I wouldn't be surprised to find out that he
had: it sounds like him. The visual that comes to me when I listen to
this song is one of Bono, sitting on the front porch of a ramshackle
house in the desert, singing solo, while lightning flares in the
distance. 10. Original of the Species: Soft start with a pickup in tempo and sound toward the chorus.

11. Yaweh:
This is the proverbial nice white wine with a light finish. Bono and
Edge share the verses. This automatically makes it softer because Bono
adjusts his vocal stylings whenever he sings with Edge so he doesn't
drown him out. And yes, they're talking about God and being good people
because He asks it of us. It's a fairly religious tune, and I wouldn't
be surprised if the Evangelicals didn't jump all over it. Go and buy
it. It's obvious which songs I liked better simply by the word count.
Yet, if you're going to come back at me and say, "hey, Kath, you didn't
like most of them," I'll say this in reply: bad U2 is better than "good
anything else" six days out of seven. This isn't bad U2. It's just not
previous albums. It's different. If you're a U2 fan, of course you'll
like it. If you're a sometime U2 fan, and their "weirder" stuff turns
you off, this will probably please you quite a bit. If you're expecting
every song to sound like "Vertigo," well, I'm sorry to say it, but
you're screwed. They're definitely mellowing as they get older. I don't
exactly know what this means for the next album, but for now, it's all good.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:44 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Margi claims this holiday skin

Margi claims this holiday skin
of hers is the only Christmassy thing she's done to prepare for the
season.
It's generally been my experience that people who get all excited about
Christmas decorations are the same people who have jammed their bedroom
closet with wrapped presents by Halloween. Hmmmm.
Something's just not right.
And yes, Margi, I still love you. It's just that you promised
you weren't going to start using that skin until after Thanksgiving.
Has Thanksgiving come and gone and I missed the drumstick action?
Hmmmm? I don't think so, hence I'm giving you shit. Simple as that

Posted by: Kathy at 02:44 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Can I get an AMEN?

Can I get an AMEN?

Posted by: Kathy at 02:44 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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...the home of Wal-Mart, where

...the home of Wal-Mart, where a bajillion semis hit I-70, mucking up
the traffic for every other driver who has to suffer through
Arkansas... Fausta's husband points out where they can hook up the tractor-trailors to the Clinton Presidential Library.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:42 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Check this out. What the

Check this out.

What the hell happened to Yushchenko?

Sounds like a case for this dude.
(And yes, I'm harping to get you to watch that TV show, but damnit,
it's finally something worthwhile to watch on Tuesday nights. It's
good. I like it and I want it to stay on the air---rather than it being
cancelled and being subjected to more Paris Hilton.) {Hat tip: Sully}

Posted by: Kathy at 02:30 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Ah, a heretic is pondering

Ah, a heretic is pondering the benefits of trying on some of those long-discarded traditions they dumped when they rid themselves of the Pope.

I happen to chair the Lenten Task Force at my Church and am
responsible for putting on a program suitable to the season. The last
couple years, we've had a series of lectures on various topics that
has, frankly, left me rather unsatisfied.
{...}This year, however, we are working on something different, a
series of much more interactive, hands-on offerings, activities that
are designed to actually aid people in the spiritual purification that
is supposed to be the hallmark of Lent, leading up to the celebration
of Easter. Our goal is to provide a number of different kinds of
activity. One possibility is the erection of a labrynth, something that
apparently has got quite trendy as a meditiation device, although it is
too New Age-y for my taste. Another possibility is some plainchant or
other musical offering. There is even talk of a rosary course. (No word
yet on whether ecumenical outreach is going to extent to include
sacrificing virgins with golden sickles under mistletoe-decked oak
trees, but we're working on it.)
But, keying off the professors remarks, the one that has caught my
personal attention is the possible provision of confession. We
undertake a general confession as part of our worship service every
Sunday, of course, but it is generic and corporate, a prayer recited by
the entire congregation. Here, we would be offering the opportunity for
the kind of personal, one-on-one, priest-penitent experience of the
Catholic Church. (I believe there is provision for this kind of
confession within the Anglican tradition. I don't know if it is
formally incorporated into Episcopalianism as well. I'll have to look
this up.)
I've never taken this kind of confession before. What is the form? Does
one simply tell off the kinds of sin one has committed (pride, lust,
envy)? Or does one give specifics (names, places, dates)? It strikes me
that the advantage of this form is that, by requiring the confessing
party to recite his or her own shortcomings in detail, it forces that
person to come more honestly face to face with them, to accept guilt
for them and to try to change for the better. The trouble I find with
the general confession is that it is rote recitation of a generic
formula. Unless one is really concentrating, it is easy to let the mind
wander. And the RC's, at least, are very clear that simple recitation
of sins, without the accompanying conscious effort of responsibility
and atonement, is no confession at all and, if anything, leaves the
person worse off than before.

I love it when I get to blather on about religion! Tee hee!
Now, I understand about the communal confession thing. The in-laws are
Protestant and as such I've been to a few services at the myriad
denominations they've belonged to over the years. (They have been since
I've known them, (in order) Methodist, Presbyterian, and now they're
Methodist again. The sister-in-law and her family are Missouri Synod
Lutheran because the other branch of Lutheranism was too liberal for
their tastes). Yet, no matter what sect they're a member of this week,
the communal confession part of their service never fails to surprise
me. "You're a sinner, but we know you're sorry, hence you're forgiven!
Now let's have communion!" If you happened to nod off for five minutes,
you could conceivably miss the cleansing of your own soul. Even though
I was educated in Catholic schools, we were never left to think that
the history of Catholicism was perfect. Catholics had flaws and the
Church had goofed, in other words, and here is x, y, and z examples to
prove it. They were pretty objective, on the whole, I like to think.
One of those goofs was the selling of indulgences, which ultimately led
Martin Luther to post his 95 Theses on the door of his monastery in
Worms. An indulgence, if you're not familiar, was purchased
forgiveness. The Church---at that period in time, a viable nation-state
who liked to conduct wars, replete with Popes who had expensive
mistresses, etc.---was running short on moolah, so to raise some coin,
they started selling the sort of forgiveness for sins that someone
wouldn't be able to find in a confessional. This was so
successful at bringing in coin, the Church decided to spread the
practice to the common peasant. Priests, under orders from their
Bishops, would concentrate on preaching that sin was everywhere and
within everyone, telling their parishoners that salvation could be
found---for a price. It was this that led Martin Luther to act: he saw
the poor being frightened into handing over what little they had to
fund what he believed were corrupt practices. Martin Luther had a
point. Hence the Church excommunicated him and he started up his own
Church. While the Church has apologized and admitted that selling
indulgences was a bad thing(a few years too late if you ask me) this
was what, I was taught, led the Reformation to start in earnest. Henry
VIII might have split because he couldn't get a divorce from wives who
wouldn't produce male offspring, but this
was the issue that really got the ball rolling. Hence, in Luther's new
church, confession was simplified and the temptation to use people's
sins against them was removed. It was also, in my humble opinion, a
move away from the individual and their struggle to find faith and keep
it---despite the Church's reputation as a monolith---to one of finding
safety in numbers. Given this acrimonious history---a history which not
only tripped the Reformation, but the Inquisition and
Counterreformation as well----I find it interesting that Robbo's
wanting to bring Catholic style confession into his Episcopalian
Church, even if it's only for a limited time. I also think it's great.
Confession is one of the best parts about being Catholic, although I'm
sure it doesn't seem like that to others. You're asking for forgiveness
for your sins, but to get that absolution you have to confess your sins
to begin with. That has to be scary for someone who's never actually
had to do it before. Yet, it's one of the most spiritually fulfilling
things you'll ever do as a Catholic because it shows you, once again,
that the burden to be good is on you.
The Church can only show you where Jesus' footsteps are, it's up to you
to walk in them. In Catholicism, Confession is also called "The
Sacrament of Reconciliation." This is the post-Vatican II description,
but it's the same darned thing. It's important to realize, however,
that it is a sacrament, just like baptism, confirmation, marriage or
taking the Eucharist every Sunday. It's a biggie, in other words. It's
a holy thing and one that is required of all Catholics to take. In
fact, the sacrament of The Last Rites, or The Annointing of the Sick as
it's called nowadays, includes confession as part of its ritual, so you
can meet your maker with a clean heart. So, while it's still just a
sacrament, Confession is not on equal footing with the other
sacraments: it's also required before you can take any of the others,
baptism excluded obviously. This is what allows for the "pure heart"
you're required to take communion with. Though, nowadays, obtaining a
"pure heart" takes a wee bit of work.
First, you actually have to track down a priest to give this sacrament
to you. There was a day and age when priests automatically set up shop
in a confessional before each and every mass they performed. Not so
anymore. My church has confession twice a week: for an hour on Thursday
evenings and on Saturday mornings. That's it, unless you want to call
the priest up at the rectory and set up a time. Priests have cut back
on confession because Catholics have cut back on confession: people
just don't go much anymore. For example, not to out my mom, but I know
for a fact she hasn't been in ages, and the only
reason I know this is because my dad---a weekly confession
attendee---never fails to remind her of this and frets about her soul.
He's one of the few people I know who always talks about confession as
a good thing: most people I know who are Catholic don't like it because
it reminds them of their faults. (See, Robbo: there are even new-agey
Catholics!)I am one of these, I will admit, but in later years I've
finally been able to see my Dad's "good for you" argument. As far as
the technicalities of the procedure, well, it's actually a pretty
simple thing. First off, you have a choice of whether to say your
confession anonymously by hiding behind a screen, or you can say it
"face to face", where you sit down with the priest and he sees your
face and you see his. It all depends upon your preferences and if the
church itself is equipped for such a thing, because a lot of older
churches are not set up for face to face confessions. I personally like
having a choice: it all depends upon what I'm confessing and who the
priest is and if I like him and he likes me. Although, just as an
aside, I must say, there's nothing more disconcerting than expecting to
have a choice, wanting to opt for the screen and being forced to give
your confession face to face. Highly nervewracking. You go into the
box, it never starts off like in the movies. You never say, "Father,
please forgive me it's been x number of day since my last confession."
I've never said that to a priest. First off, they
welcome you. Then they'll say a prayer--out loud---for the success of
the confession: that they'll hear your confession with an objective
heart and that you'll confess your sins in a heartful manner, or they
might read some Scripture---or they may not do any of these things.
Then you can either tell him how long it's been since you've been to
confession or not. He may ask, he may not. Like most things within the
Church: it all depends on the priest.
Now we've come to the fun part because, as you'll have noticed, there's
a lot of potential for sinning when you're a Catholic. The best
guideline for deciding where you've sinned or not is to run through the
Ten Commandments, and this is what we were taught. When I was a kid my
big sin was "disrespecting my mother and father." Lying is also
verboten, hence I confessed to that a lot as well. What's funny about
this with children is that when you're young, you don't know what
"adultery" is or what it means to "covet your neighbors wife," so a few
kids I knew actually confessed to "adultery," just to make sure they'd
covered all the bases. However, when you're confessing as an adult,
things get a wee bit more complicated. After all, you're now able to
sin in so many new and exciting ways, the priest might want to know
about them. Hence they'll ask for specifics to put your sin in
perspective. This is when you see it as a really
good thing that your confession is sealed. As in the priest cannot
divulge---ever---what you've said in the box. You're free to tell. You
might be embarrassed to tell, but you're free to do so anyway. And, I
might add, that if you've been harboring a secret, it's not only a
relief to get it off your chest, it's also nice to have someone give
you an outside perspective because it might not be as bad as you
thought. Then comes judgment time: your penance. Depending upon the
severity of your sins you might be sent to a monastery to kneel on cold
floors for years to atone for your sins (well, not anymore, but it
wasn't unheard of in the olden days) or you might be told to say a few
decades of the rosary or maybe you'll get off with a few Our Father's
and Hail Mary's. This is where you nod, accept your penance and they
say an Act of Contrition, which attests to the fact that yes, you
really are sorry for your sins and that you want forgiveness. Then the
priest absolves you and off you go to say your penance. What's hard to
describe is when you leave the box: I've always felt physically lighter
when I've left. All those cliched descriptions about "relief washing
over you" actually fit in this situation. You feel closer to God, too,
because He understands you and loves you enough to forgive you your
worst behavior, and you carry that with you for a time. Then, because
you're a human being, hence automatically vulnerable to sinning, you'll
forget about it and start sinning all over again. But that's the beauty
of confession: it's always there for you: you can go back and confess
again. I sincerely hope Robbo take up the challenge and sees if this is
possible for his church. Like anything, confession involves risk: you
have to out your flaws and be judged upon them. This is hard. But, as
they say, where there are great risks, there are also great rewards to
be reaped.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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...Chuck Shumer, of all people,

...Chuck Shumer, of all people, but damn, does he have the right idea with this one.

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Frustrated by deadbeat foreign
diplomats, the U.S. Congress has voted to cut aid to their countries by
about the sum they owe in unpaid parking tickets in the United States.
At the urging of New York lawmakers, Congress tucked the measure -- to
cut aid to countries next year by 110 percent of the amount their
diplomats owe in parking tickets and penalties -- into the huge $388
billion spending bill lawmakers approved over the weekend. New York
City, which houses the United Nations, would stand to recover about
$195 million from about 200 countries, New York's senators said.

It's about time someone finally stuck it to those deadbeats.

Diplomatic immunity should not extend to parking fines.

Posted by: Kathy at 02:12 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Well, lookie here. Blaque Jacques

Well, lookie here. Blaque Jacques now has to follow someone else's whims for a change.

Tee frickin' hee.

*sung to the theme of Speed Racer!

Posted by: Kathy at 01:59 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Cult Movies: The Top Sixty-One.

Cult Movies: The Top Sixty-One. Courtesy of you know who. The ones I've highlighed are those that I've seen.

1 This Is Spinal Tap
- I finally saw this---the whole way through a couple of months ago.
Hi-larious. If you want more funny, watch the DVD with the commentary
running. 2 The Rocky Horror Picture Show: If you must see this movie, see it at the theater. Be very drunk, that way the flying toast won't bother you.
3 Freaks
4 Harold And Maude
5 Pink Flamingos
6 The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
7 Repo Man My brother made me watch this when I was fifteen or
sixteen. Didn't get it. Don't know that I want to go back and revisit
to see if it was just the age thing, as I suspect, or if it really was
that weird.
8 Scarface: Gratuitous coke snorting, gunfire and Al Pacino
sporting a Cuban accent, well, what's not to love? Oh, the soundtrack
isn't much to listen to, but it's still fun. 9 Blade Runner: Get the director's cut if you're going to watch this. Much, much better.
10 The Shawshank Redemption This one suckers me in every time it's on cable. Which is a lot.
11 Five Deadly Venoms
12 Plan 9 From Outer Space
13 Brazil
14 Eraserhead
15 Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!
16 The Warriors
17 Dazed And Confused Despite Boom-Boom's presence in this film, it's still one of the stupidest things I've ever seen.
18 Hard-Boiled
19 Evil Dead II
20 The Mack
21 Pee-Wee's Big Adventure: It's Pee-Wee for cryin' out loud! Ya gotta love it!
22 Un Chien Andalou
23 Akira: the husband made me watch this. It's Anime, and I'm not Anime's biggest fan, so we'll just leave it at that.
24 The Toxic Avenger
25 Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory: Charlie and Grandpa RULE!
26 Stranger Than Paradise
27 Dawn Of The Dead
28 The Wiz-Despite Michael Jackson's presence in this film, Diana Ross still rocks.
29 Clerks Not my favorite Kevin Smith film. I personally think this
was underrated and if I ever meet Ben Affleck I will swear on a
stack---right here and now---that I'm calling him "Shannon, from the
Fashionable Male." 30 The Harder They Come 31 Slap Shot 32 Re-Animator
33 Grey Gardens 34 The Big Lebowski 35 Withnail and I---I haven't seen
this one, but my UK friend M. had a party at Babushka's, where part of
it was shot.
36 Showgirls 37 A Bucket Of Bood 38 They Live 39 The Best Of Everything
40 Barbarella 41 Heathers What girl my age hasn't seen this?
42 Rushmore Great frickin' movie. Bill Murray at his best.
43 The Adventures Of Buckaroo Banzai Across The 8th Dimension
Watched this one when I was twelve. Didn't get it. Haven't seen it
since. But my brother Dave swears, to this day, it's the funniest movie
he's ever seen. 44 Love Streams 45 Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story
46 Aguirre, The Wrath of God
47 Walking And Talking Nicole Holofcener 48 The Decline Of Western
Civilization II: The Metal Years 49 Friday 50 Faces of Death, Vol. 1 51 Monty Python and the Holy Grail "Consult the Book of Armaments!
52 A Clockwork Orange--haven't seen this one, but the husband seems to think that I should.
53 Mommie Dearest
54 The Princess Bride: Love is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something!
55 Swingers: You are so money you don't even know how money you are!
56 UHF
57 Valley of the Dolls
58 Fight Club: You had to give it to him: he had a plan. And
it started to make sense, in a Tyler sort of way. No fear. No
distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide. If you feel you need a wake-up call in life, let this be it for you.
59 Dead Alive (aka Braindead)
60 Better Off Dead: Gee, I'm real sorry your mom blew up, Ricky.
61 Donnie Darko: I've come in on the tail end of this one and it looks interesting. I have yet to be motivated to actually rent it, however.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:59 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I don't think you could

I don't think you could call it an adventure in the way some people
around the country are having "voting adventures" but it got me out of
the house, so I suppose, given the limited way I lead my life, you
could technically call it an "adventure" if you count walking to my
precinct, waiting in line and voting in that lofty category.
Surprisingly, given all the hubbub about record turnout and long lines,
it wasn't a hassle. I didn't honestly know what to expect so I just
made sure to clear my busy morning schedule and brought a radio headset
along in case things got boring. My voting district, specifically my
precinct, is one of the few majority Republican districts in a very
Democratic Hennepin County, Minnesota. We always have a high turnout
for elections---even for those of the local variety, so I wasn't really
surprised to see the line of voters snaking out the door. I was
surprised, however, to see that things were moving quickly. We may have
great turnout, but our poll workers, on the whole, don't move on
anyone's time other than their own. After waiting for about five
minutes outside of the polling place, the line moved inside and we were
directed in short order to check in. Then we received our ballots and
our instructions to fill in the little black circle fully, and off we
went...
All told, I spent about twenty minutes in line and voting. The only
problem of the whole excursion was that I goofed when sliding my ballot
into the scanner and it shot it back out. I tried again, after
receiving some coaching from the attendant and it slid in. At 10:30a.m.
CST, when I cast my ballot into the scanner, the machine said my ballot
was the five hundred and sixth cast today. The polls opened at seven,
so you do the math. The Cake Eater Cops were actively patrolling the
parking lot and the area surrounding the polling area, looking to
squash trouble, but there was none to be found. We didn't have any
Moveon.org hecklers---there weren't even any campaigners beyond the 100
feet boundary. It was quiet and democracy was working. The only thing I
found interesting---and disconcerting---was that when the poll worker
checked me in, I could see that the husband was still on the voting
rosters. Hmmmph. To be quick about this admission in case you haven't
been reading the Cake Eater Chronicles very long: the husband is a
convicted felon. It was a felony DWI and NO
he didn't run a busload of nuns off the road: he drove into a ditch and
has never hurt anyone other than himself with his actions. His record
simply worked against him in this instance, but anyway he's on
probation until 2008 and in accordance with federal law, he is not
allowed to vote in any election: his civil rights have been suspended
as part of his punishment. Yet the Hennepin County Board of Elections
apparently hadn't been made aware of this development. Hmmph. The last
time I voted was last year---we had a property tax referendum and I
went to vote and the husband didn't, just assuming his information
would have been removed from the rosters. Well, since his name is
directly below mine on the roster you have to sign before you receive
your ballot, it would have been hard to miss that his name was where it
wasn't supposed to be. I told him about it and we had an interesting
argument about taking advantage of government bureaucracy goofs. He
ultimately chose not to vote that day, even though he could have easily
done so with no one the wiser, because he didn't want to cause trouble.
I thought his name might be on there this time, but I thought it
improbable: enough time has passed that I thought they might have
caught it.
Nope.
The husband, to be clear about it, is NOT voting today. He
doesn't want to cause problems, so he's enforcing the law where the
state has been lax in doing so. But it makes me wonder. How many other
felons are still on the rolls in Minnesota and are casting ballots
today? I do not know whether the burden is on the government to clear
the rosters of felons, or if the burden is on the felons themselves to
restrain from voting, but that just doesn't sound right given the nanny
state I live in.
Anyway, that's the voting story. Right now, I'm taking the husband to
Dairy Queen because if I go in there with my "I Voted!" sticker on, I
get a free small cone that I'm going to give to him because of his
sacrifice.
It seems the least I can do to reward him for his fight for Democracy!

Posted by: Kathy at 01:50 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I know you've been waiting

I know you've been waiting with bated breath to see whom I'm going to
endorse for President. I suppose I could keep you in suspense until
tomorrow, but hey, why should I? You're going to spend your entire day
standing in line, waiting to vote and hence will have no time to read
blogs, so I suppose I should cough up today, eh? It seems only fair.
Well, I'm sure this will be a shocker to some of you, but the Cake
Eater Chronicles endorses President George W. Bush.

Woooh. Shocked, aren't you? To quoth the instadude, "Heh."

Go forth and vote, taking into account my endorsement, eh? Because we all know that endorsements mean so damn much in the scheme of things.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:47 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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That's what I've got for

That's what I've got for you today.
Sorry.
After driving out to Minnetonka in the driving rain my morning was shot
to hell. Never mind the fact that it was a completely wasted trip, just
the time it took to drive out there and back shot my morning to hell.
I'm on the verge of becoming crabby, too, so I think I'll just spare
you. See ya tomorrow.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:45 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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All righty then! So, we're

All righty then!

So, we're going to fast forward to tomorrow---that would be Thursday.
It's Thanksgiving. The balloons are meandering their way to whatever
place in Manhattan it is that they wander to. You have your bird in the
sink, (or the refrigerator if you're a weenie) you poke at it with your
fingers and the squishy sensation of defrosted meat works its way up
your fingertip to the neurons in your brain, where such information is
processed. You say, "Aha! It's time!" It's time to open that bad boy
up. Get your scissors out and free the bird. If you really want to be
bad about it, throw in the DVD of Fly Away Home . Then proceed to cackle evilly and say, in a Spectre-ish voice, "I'm
going to eat one of your fine feathered friends for dinner. After I
roast him, of course. What have you got to say about that, my dear
stupid geese?" Or not. It all depends upon how into this you're
getting. You need not channel me. That might be bad and might scare
your family. Yet, it all depends how liquored up they are. Could be
entertaining. You never know. Anyway, what you're going to need at this
point in time is as follows:
-A pair of scissors, but you've probably got those out already
-Your prepped stuffing, if you plan on stuffing your bird, which I
highly recommend that you do because it tastes yummy. There will be
instructions on the bag on how much stuffing to prep for a bird of your
size. I shouldn't have to say this, but you're a newbie, so I will:
have only that much ready to go. -A clean prep station. If you have a
big, wooden cutting board or a butcher's block in your house, use that.
If not, clean off a part of your counter with anti-bacterial cleanser
and use that. The important thing to have here is space. Give yourself
room to maneuver.
-A big bottle of hand soap next to the sink. You're going to be putting
your hands in and out of the bird's cavities, and the former service
professional in me DEMANDS that you wash your hands everytime you touch
the meat and move onto something else. Sorry. I wash my hands at least
four times a night when I'm preparing something as mundane as chicken,
but there has never been an incidence of food poisoning at the Cake
Eater Pad, so I must be doing something right. -Your granny smith
apple, skin on, cut in half with the core hallowed out of each half. No
seeds, in other words.
-A few cloves of garlic, skinned. How many cloves you use is dependent
upon how much you like garlic. The husband claims you can never have
too much garlic. I say you can, but it's up to you. If you do not know
your garlic tolerance level, by all means skip this bit. -A roasting
pan replete with rack. If you do not have one of these, you can
purchase one at Target for a reasonable price ($40 or thereabouts). If
you have settled down to make your Turkey and have completely forgotten
to get a pan to do it in, find a heavy duty foil roasting pan at the
grocery store. I find they're generally in the aisle with all the
cleaning products, but since it's Thanksgiving and all, the store
manager might have moved them to an end-cap, for easy reach. If you
can't find one, ask. And, no, you cannot cook a turkey in a cake pan.
It does not work. -Your bottle of vegetable oil
-Salt and pepper
-A ball of string
-Foil
Ok, got all your stuff together? Is your work space prepped? Do you
have an apron on? Better question, are you male and does the apron make
you look hot? If so, here's my number... {insert slap on head from
husband here}Anyhoo, it's time to start prepping your fine and formerly
feathered friend for his moment in the sun. (pun completely intended)
Now that your turkey has shed his wrappings, it's time to check him
out. And by that I mean it's time for you to snap your rubber gloves in
a menacing way and go cavity diving. You'll also be doing this without
the machine that goes PING!
It may be the most expensive machine in the whole hospital, but
honestly you don't need it. You'll survive. This is the first thing you
have to do, and I'm sorry for it, but hey, you're going to have your
hands in and out of this bird all day long---you might as well get used
to it.
There are two cavities that you will need to check: the neck and the
main body cavity. We'll start with the easy one: the neck. The neck is
up where you'd expect the neck to be: it's hidden behind a flappy piece
of skin and, depending upon the size of the bird you bought, the cavity
here will be about the size of a cup (the measuring kind) or a wee bit
larger. Once you have checked that out, it's time to work your way
around to the back of the bird and check the main cavity. It's the one
between the legs. Not really all that hard to find. There will probably
be a piece of plastic holding the legs together. Remove this and throw
it away. Are you ready? Ok, it's time to go cavity diving.
Now, I realize this isn't the most appealing part of roasting a turkey.
It's gross, it reminds you of either your proctologist or
gynecologist's behavior. Well, get over it. Think of yourself as a
little kid who has just found a mud puddle. You know it's bad to jump
in the mud puddle. You know your mom will disapprove. But you want to
do it anyway because you have a morbid fascination with all things
dirty. That's the feeling I want out of you: Think of the bird as a mud
puddle. Let the temptation to jump right in slink over you and embrace
it. You'll find it much easier that way. Once you've removed the bit of
plastic, it's time to stick your hand inside and find the neck and the
giblet package. Now, there's not always
a neck inside these bad boys. In the past couple of years, they seem to
have done away with packaging this up, mainly since people don't use
it. But there will be a package of giblets, which you can save for when
you make the gravy if you like. There might also be other assorted
goodies inside the cavity. Like a gravy packet. Pull these out and
place them in your sink for later use. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?
If it was, medicate with alcohol: that's the only thing that will get
you through the rest of it. It has happened to me in the past where
I've gone cavity diving and I've found that the inside still has a wee
bit of a frosty feel to it. All this means is that your turkey hasn't
completely defrosted. You will begin to freak out, but stop yourself. I
know you're on a schedule, but resist the urge: there is a simple
solution to this problem. Take your turkey over to the sink and fill up
the cavity with warm water. Not hot, warm.
Let Mr. Bird sit upright in your sink so that he looks like he's
reclining in a hot tub, about to have a chat with Anna-Nicole Smith.
Let him rest like that until water becomes cold, then dump the water
out and see where you're at. If the bird still feels frozen, repeat
until the cavity is ready. Your bird will not become waterlogged as a
result of this process. Ok, so now Mr. Bird is ready to go, what's
next? Why, it's time to start stuffing! Which we will handle in our
next installment of As the Bird Turns.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:39 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Arthur Hailey has died. I

Arthur Hailey has died.
I went on an Arthur Hailey reading spree during the summer vacation
between my freshman and sophomore years in high school. This was also
the summer I was forced to take Driver's Ed at Omaha's Westside High
School because my parochial school did not offer it and my father
insisted I take it so he could get a discount on the car insurance. The
class was a joke. I went to private school. This was my first foray
into the vast world of public education since kindergarten. Their
standards, even for Drivers's Ed seemed weak. I figured I'd ace it with
minimal effort expended on my part, yet I almost failed it because of
the weeklong simulator portion. My fellow students and I spent the week
in a darkened trailer, pretending to follow the road of a movie that
was playing on the screen at the front of the trailer by turning our
steering wheels, pressing on the gas, stomping on the brake, etc. The
only problem with this was that I did not have the upper body strength
to crank the friggin' wheel all the way, which was the only way a
successful turn was registered on the teacher's readout. The rather
coarse teacher kept yelling at me, "ZABAWA! TURN THE GODDAMNED WHEEL!"
This was hard for me. I'd been driving Mom's Le Baron for a while. It
had power steering. The wheel on my simulator station did not have
power steering. Also, I knew I wasn't supposed to turn the wheel all
the way on every turn---I'd wind up overturning. If this was supposed
to be a simulator, well, my unvoiced question while the jackal
continued to keep yelling at me was why wasn't the simulator on par
with real life conditions? The question never was answered and on the
Saturday of that week, the teacher told me that he was going to pass me
on to the classroom portion of the course, but that he prayed I never
got my license as he didn't ever want to be on the road with me. I aced
the class portion, by the way. And I have Mr. Hailey to thank for
keeping me from getting bored during it. Three friggin' hours a day,
five days a week, for a month! Ugh! I read "Hotel" while they showed us
all the gory movies. I read "Airport" while the teacher droned on---for
the umpteenth time---about checking your blindspots before changing
lanes. I read "The Final Diagnosis" while the teacher taught us about
the Interstate Highway System. The class was boring, and I would have
acted out if it weren't for Mr. Hailey. I would have wound up in
trouble again, furthering the evaluation of the simulator teacher, if
it hadn't been for his novels. Thanks to him, I kept myself from
passing notes and talking in class. Hence the simulator teacher's
evaluation looked more like an anomaly, rather than an accurate
evaluation of my skills. Thanks for many hours of enjoyment, Mr.
Hailey, and thanks for helping me get through Driver's Ed.

Posted by: Kathy at 01:29 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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