May 31, 2005

I've Been Lacking In The Meme Department Lately...

...so here's one I swiped from Random Pensees.

And I'm not typing any long, involved essays that none of you will bother to read anyway until my hand is healed up. When that time arrives, I'll go for it, and we can get on with business as usual, me writing, you people ignoring. Until then, however, you'll have to deal with stuff I can post without my hand hurting.

If you're interested, you know where to find my lack of self-control. more...

Posted by: Kathy at 11:39 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Opposable Thumbs Really Do Come In Handy

Yet another reminder of why Kathy and sports do not mix.

Well, perhaps I should qualify and use the word athleticism, since it wasn't really sports related.

I've mentioned that I started running again. This has, for the most part, been a humiliating exercise in out-of-shaped-ness, hence I've been keeping said humiliation to myself. Yet, except on the days it rains, I've been keeping with it and have been making small strides in getting my tolerance for pain back up where it belongs.

So, today, instead of running around the neighborhood, like usual, I decided to go over to the track a few blocks away. I thought this might be better for my knees rather than pounding the pavement. This track belongs to a local high school, and I thought since I was allowed onto the track (no one stopped me) the gate I entered in through would remain unlocked.

Nope.

Sometime during my huffing and puffing my exit was padlocked. To get out of the track, I had to scale a ten foot high fence. This wasn't so bad, but it was the getting down part that turned out to be tricky. When I was coming down, I slipped slightly, and in the process of stabilizing myself the bone that leads down from my thumb to my wrist got banged, rather hard, against a metal pole. Hence, right now it's all swollen up and it hurts. I've been imbibing the Advil---would someone in Europe or the Middle East please, please, please send me some of the 800mg stuff you have over the counter there so I don't have to swallow four at a time?----and icing it. This happened roughly two hours ago. I've just gotten to the point where I can type. I'm pretty sure I just bruised the bone. I can make a "4" with it, but damn, it's not pleasant. It's not bleeding. Nor was I able to feel any little bone chips floating around where there shouldn't be any.

Interesting, no? Yeah, I know. Boring stuff that you really don't need or want to know about but the next part I find fascinating. Because it's curious. Because of this, I've just realized I never really lost the ambidextrousness (?) I gained when I was twelve and I broke my right wrist. (If you want the timeline on this, well, know that I remember watching Jeanne Kirkpatrick ream the North Korean Soviet UN ambassador over the downing of that Korean Airlines jet that flew into their airspace by accident while I was waiting for my mom to get home to take me to the hospital.) Until I got my cast a few days after the break, I was completely dependent upon my left hand. I learned how to write with it (ugly though my handwriting may be), open bottles, operate a fork and a spoon, etc. The key to this ambidextrousness is to simply slow down and think it through. It's frustrating at first, but it'll get easier. This is so weird because I just assumed you'd have to learn that skill all over again. Apparently not.

Learn something new everyday, eh?

Posted by: Kathy at 03:55 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Suspicions Confirmed

I think you could call this my proverbial "A-ha!" moment when it comes to Steve-o.

I've had Robbo sussed for quite some time, his penchant for Emma Woodhouse being a dead giveaway, but Steve? Well, he's an elusive cat. Or as I like to call him: Mr. Mysterioso. Sure he gives up some details about himself, but they never really give you the whole picture, do they? He's always switching things up, posting at random times, and he's always leaving you guessing. But now? Well....

I think we all know what's really going on there now, eh?

Posted by: Kathy at 11:35 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Disclosure

Despite the fact my brain thinks it's Monday because of the lovely holiday weekend, it is, indeed Tuesday, which means yet another riveting installment of The Demystifying Divas and The Marvelous Men's Club. Our topic this week? Why, it's disclosure, my devoted Cake Eater readers, or when and if you should bring out the skeletons in your closet.

It's topics like this that remind me how long it's been since I was single.

They also remind me how very nice it is to be married.

Because you don't have to think about this stuff when you're married. It's all out there. It's been dealt with. You know their secrets. They know yours. And what's even better is that neither of you care. Your past has not been a hindrance to your future and, honestly, what could be better than that? You lived, you learned, you weren't denied the object of your affection because you might have been stupid in the past. I repeat: what could be better than that?

But that's not the part of this business I'm supposed to be demystifying, is it? I'm supposed to be hitting the "before" marriage business, not the after. Sigh. Ah, well. It may have been awhile, but, the way I see it, this is comes down to trust. When do you trust someone with not only the good bits about your history, but the parts that might be considered bad? Particularly your sexual history, knowing what a loaded gun that might be in someone's hands.

The only answer I can give is that this is a question best left up to your gut. If your sexual history isn't going to get someone killed (i.e. HIV/AIDS) or make them ill (other sexually transmitted diseases that may not be lethal, but definitely leave a mark), you can wait for full disclosure until you feel comfortable enough to share that information---if you feel it's necessary to share that information, and I'll come back to this in a moment. However, if you have been engaging in risky sexual behavior---and I shouldn't have to define what this is for you, kids. You're all grown-ups. If you don't know this by now, well, you're a lost cause----you should definitely tell anyone you sleep with that you've been a particularly naughty girl/boy BEFORE YOU SLEEP WITH THEM. I don't care if it's hard or if it's uncomfortable or if it's not really something you want to bring up in the heat of the moment. In this day and age, sex can kill. It can and does. Still. It's not fair to not let someone in on the risks they're taking by being with you.

Preaching aside, if you should tell someone about your past is yet another issue that needs to be addressed. Now, at one point in time I would have said, absolutely, you must lay everything out on the table for your partner's consumption, and they should do the same; that there shouldn't be any secrets between you. But now? Well, I'm not so sure. I think this comes part and parcel with maturity and the realization all of the noteworthy bits of your life haven't happened in your early twenties, when sharing this sort of thing seems to be a benign and expected act.

As I often tell Mr. H, when he relates to me his latest tale of singledom over Sunday morning coffee, I am so happy I'll never have to deal with any of the trials and tribulations of being single ever again. And I am. Believe me, I am. But, I will admit, there are times when I wonder what I would do if I were, and this is one of those instances: would I disclose everything to this hypothetical potential partner? Or would there be some things I would keep to myself, not necessarily because they're horrible things that I would fear would make this hypothetical person run the other way, but simply because I don't think they need to be related; that they're not necessary to the conversation? And the answer is that I don't think I would disclose everything. Life is long. So much longer than it seems it ever could be when you're in your twenties. Experience is gained. Lessons have been learned. And one of the lessons learned is that not everything in your past is relevant to the future. A particular instance may have, in part, made you who you are today, but that doesn't mean you have to tell all. As long as what you're choosing not to disclose is a benign thing, there can be some things you can choose to keep to yourself. I don't think this is bad. It's simply a case of the other person not needing to know.

And that's all the psuedo-advice this particular diva can dish out on this fine Tuesday morning. My partners in crime, the other fabulous divas, have dished out their own bits of advice, so go and read what they have to say. Also be sure to check out what The Minister of Propaganda, The Wiz, and Phin have said on the subject. We'll see when/if Stiggy chimes in on this topic, since he's off gallivanting around Europe at the present moment.

UPDATE: This week's guest diva, Moogie, has also chimed in. Go and read.

Posted by: Kathy at 11:09 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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May 30, 2005

Methadone

In case you're a Lost junkie, and are experiencing serious withdrawal pangs (Somehow, I think I'll survive the summer without it, so don't bother counting me among your number.) you might want to check this out.

Click on the row numbers 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42 and see what awaits you.

Hat tip:Ith

Posted by: Kathy at 10:45 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Your Father Is a Hamster and Your Mother Smells of Elderberries

Now, go away before I taunt you for a second time!

I'm loving this.

VIVE LA FRANCE!

Posted by: Kathy at 10:24 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Pointy!

I'm a wee bit late chiming in on this one, but good God, get a freakin' clue.

A team from West Middlesex University Hospital said violent crime is on the increase - and kitchen knives are used in as many as half of all stabbings.

They argued many assaults are committed impulsively, prompted by alcohol and drugs, and a kitchen knife often makes an all too available weapon.

The research is published in the British Medical Journal.

The researchers said there was no reason for long pointed knives to be publicly available at all.

They consulted 10 top chefs from around the UK, and found such knives have little practical value in the kitchen.

None of the chefs felt such knives were essential, since the point of a short blade was just as useful when a sharp end was needed. {...}

One of my best friends is English. And she has, in the past, spouted off about how appalling she finds the Second Amendment to be. The last time she did this, I had to laugh. She stared at me for a time and then I explained.

"You do know why we have the Second Amendment, right?" I asked.

"No," she replied, after a long thoughtful moment.

I laughed again. "It's because of the English. King George decided it was all right to quarter his soldiers in colonials' houses and, while they were there, they stripped the owners of said houses of all their armaments. Armaments they needed to survive the wilderness. That's mainly why. The other reason is that the Founding Fathers decided we should always have the means to overthrow our own government if the need should arise."

She stared at me for quite some time. Like I'd grown a third head. Her eventual reply, which skipped over my final reason entirely, was, "Well, too bad we didn't take all the bloody things away."

I should probably mention that what brought this whole subject up was that while I was visiting her place in London, we were watching the news and they were reporting that a couple had been stabbed to death in their own home.

I wonder what she thinks about the possibility of her very nice set of Wustof-Tridents being banned. In her own country. Because they're too dangerous.

{Hat Tip: Andy}

Posted by: Kathy at 10:19 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Cue The Kid From Poltergeist

I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.

Did you miss me?

I doubt it. But here I am nonetheless.

And I will shortly be deserting you for the very nice weather that is currently gracing the Twin Cities metropolitan area. Sorry, kids. Iron hot. Striking. That sort of thing. The husband would like to have a conversation with one of his Cuban friends over at the lake (if you have no idea what I'm talking about know that the friend is not legal and he smokes quite nicely. If you can't figure it out from there, well...sorry) and I need to get outside and kill the creeping charlie that is profusely sprouting all over my flowerbeds. The junk that I have for creeping charlie demands that it have two days without rain to work. Since it finally appears as if we've got that with the weather forecast, well, this means you're screwed. Sorry. Life is occasionally like that.

I would like to thank my very nice guest bloggers, Robert and Sadie, for chiming in over the past couple of days. I hope you enjoyed their contributions---I know I did. Steve-o, I believe, was peeved that I did not allow him access to upload images, hence no participation. All I can say to him is that if you live by the sword, buddy, you'd better be prepared to die by it.

On the whole, I had a very nice few days off. I feel refreshed and probably will have a few things to say about this, that, or the other shortly. It was probably a good time for the blogmutes to settle in as I really did have "other things" to do. Which included some cleaning, some laundry and painting a sandwich board for the sidewalk outside the husband's new computer fixit shop. This meant coming up with my own stencils (thank you photoshop and acetate sheets!) and then hand-painting the letters in. Since I'm no Rembrandt, well, this took some time to get right. Hopefully this thing will bring in some customers. All I can really say is that I'm glad it will be leaving the premises tomorrow and I never have to look at it again.

As far as the archival transferral is concerned, well, that's an interesting thing. I asked the husband to help me out with it, and utilizing his high-level of logic, he decided it would simply be easier for him to do it rather than telling me how. Hmmmph. Go figure. Anyway, the reason you're not seeing almost two years worth of monthly archival listings over on the side is because he couldn't do it. He was able to package everything up according to MT's instructions, but as far as loading them onto the server, well...he couldn't do it. He didn't have the access to get them into the right spot, so he sent them to God Himself and hopefully they'll get uploaded sometime over the next couple of days. Keep your fingers crossed. In any case, since we have the archives elsewhere now, the old blogspot home has been BLOWED UP! Yep. That's right. I deleted it. It was a curious experience. I used to wait and wait and wait to upload a post to the blog yet the deletion of said blog took about three seconds...total. Hmmmm. Quite weird.

I don't quite know how I feel about this development. It's not really bothering me per se, but I do kind of feel like I've just blown up the trailer park from which I sprang forth. Every time I surfed over to the old home, well, I felt like poor white trash who'd gone off, got themselves edumacated, and went off into the big wide world only to come home and see the old homestead with a new pair of eyes---a new pair of eyes that thought the old homestead looked pretty damn shabby and simply couldn't understand how anyone could live like that. Which is a pretty snotty attitude to have, I gather, yet is one that I am completely unrepentant about holding. I'm spoiled rotten right now and I like it like that. Sue me.

Anyhoo, expect some posting after the sun goes down.

Posted by: Kathy at 12:45 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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May 29, 2005

Women In Combat

Next week, the House and Senate will vote on bills seeking to prohibit women soldiers acting in direct ground combat roles. This is the most controversial aspect of a bill that also seeks to increase the number of Army soldiers and Marines, increase pay grades, and guarantee military health care for members of the Army Reserve and National Guard.

Essentially, this is a clear political move to push the issue of women in combat to the forefront, and if these bills don't pass, the Democrats will be whooping and hollering at the audacity of Republicans to deny uniformed personnel pay increases and guaranteed health care. Yet I really don't see the major controversy at point here, especially in light of this exerpt from the cited article:

The language would put into law a Pentagon policy from 1994 that prohibits female troops in all four service branches from serving in units below brigade level whose primary mission is direct ground combat ... The Army, Navy, Air Force and Marine Corps currently operate under a 10-year-old policy that prohibits women from "direct combat on the ground" but allows the services discretion to open some jobs to women in combat as needed.

These bills would only codify the long-standing practices of our Armed Forces, and secure women from being forced to perform in a job that they simply do not have the physical strength and endurance needed. Of course, very few exceptions to this rule exist, although I doubt that many women soldiers possess the muscle tone and aggressive demeanor of Linda Hamilton's Terminator II character, Sarah Connor.

The current fitness tests used to evaluate combat readiness are scaled according to age and gender. This is self-defeating to the military's goal in predicting a soldier's success in combat. In addition, women on the front lines would disrupt the cohesive units of battle and underemine the esprit de corps though the politics involved with romantic relationships. This doesn't even touch the issues involved with pregnancies, but it suffices to say that the effectiveness of the military lies in the ability for every member to completely trust and respect one another.

Allowing women to compete for all military occupational specialties shouldn't be treated as an equal rights issue, but one of military effectiveness. If the United States is to retain its status as most powerful and capable military power, we need to have the best person in each role, regardless of their gender.

NOTE: Since the Minister of Propaganda has decided to push the proverbial envelope, I'll likely continue this issue at some point Monday afternoonish. It will probably occur over at The Boileryard, as I'm sure that the Goddess of Snark will reclaim her blog in a few short hours.

UPDATE: Kath here. Interesting points to be found in the comments, although I'm inclined to agree with Sadie on this one. We used to have this argument back in high school (at the ALL GIRLS high school I attended) when the military had just started allowing women to serve in support roles and the debate---even then---was about expanding into combat. It was the general consensus that if women wanted to go and serve in an auxilary role, great, but women shouldn't be on the ground in combat. We were concerned that if the women in the service started actively pushing for this, we'd wind up being drafted later on down the line. The reasoning behind our argument against was that there was no way we could carry a seventy-five pound pack whilst running and shooting a gun at the same time. We're just not built for it. While I do not doubt there are some women who are built for it, the majority of us are not. The average height of an American woman is five foot, three inches. While I'm above average at five foot, six inches, I know I can't lift seventy-five pounds even when I'm at my most fit. I just can't do it. The laws of physics do not allow for it.

I simply cannot make any judgments about the esprit de corps arguments that Sadie listed simply because I've never served. While I'm sure there are a lot of men who would simply prefer that the military remain one all-male clubhouse, that this is what works best to ensure a "Band of Brothers" attitude that will keep soldiers alive, I am, however, not so sure that this is the case in actuality. But, like I said, I've never served, nor have I ever polled the family members who have/are serving to see what their opinions on the matter are.

That said, I do have issues with female service members who get pregnant while they're serving. I'm sorry. I'm sure this will rankle a few people, but there it is. If I have to see one more picture of that idiot Lyddie England in a camo-uniform maternity top, I'll gag. That the freakin' Army actually has camoflauge maternity tops, well... take from that what you will. If you want to serve your country in a combat capacity, knowing full well that you might be called away at any moment to serve in a war---in either an auxilary or front line position---you should be using birth control. It's that simple. (And of course this does not count for women who are at desk jobs. Duh. So don't ream me about it.) Men, obviously, cannot become pregnant. Their biology prevents such an outcome. It's irresponsible in the extreme for a woman to ignore their biology and then expect everyone to make allowances for them. You can't have it both ways, even though conventional wisdom---and the law---says you can. Take one for the team you want to be on: get on the pill.

Posted by: Sadie at 04:45 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Reporting for Duty

So Private Sadie is sitting here on a Sunday afternoon, and she is attempting to blog for her good pal Kathy. Meanwhile, this seventy-five pound golden retriever is staring balefully at her. Those big brown droopy eyes are delivering one heck of a guilt trip to her conscience, which is really saying something for someone who's usually getting pounced upon by a curly-haired, four-year old bundle of sheer enthusiasm.

PET ME. Ah yes, so the canine begs for a walk through the neighborhood, which is always fodder for the blogging mind. Never fear, she shall return!

Posted by: Sadie at 02:46 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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May 27, 2005

Gratuitous Cake Posting

I just might get in trouble with the Goddess of Snark herself for posting a photo, since she didn't give the humble guest bloggers file uploading privileges. Since this seems a perfect venue for a bit of cake blogging, I took the liberty of uploading this to my server:

rcake.jpg

You see, I am getting married this summer, and the Lad and I are going to Las Vegas. This plan was intended to avoid the muss and fuss of wedding planning, along with all of the madness (cue photo of Jennifer Wilbanks) involved with throwing what is essentially multi-thousand dollar party. Overall, this was the best decision for our future nuptuals, except for one teensy little aspect. I will indeed miss having a decadent and outrageously overpriced wedding cake. Mmmmmm.

'Tis a lovely tradition, to keep the top of the cake for a private one-year anniversary celebration. Of course, I've heard that the cake generally tastes horrid after one year in the deep freeze. Hmmm. Anyone have any suggestions on this dilemma?

Posted by: Sadie at 05:50 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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On Rhetoric

Socrates always called rhetoric one of the "flattering arts," but of course, he is often considered to be the godfather of rhetoric. In law school, the professors aspire to employ the "Socratic method" of lecturing to the masses of frightened students. Generally, this is effective on the first-year students, who are eager to please and often quite intimidated when presented with the following sobering statistic:

Look to the students seated on your left and right sides. Don't get to know them too well, because at this point next year, one of you will be history.

Flunk-o.

Of course, this sends all the neophytes into a tailspin of round-the-clock studying for the next ten months. By virtue of hard work, intelligence, and let's face it, pure luck, two-thirds of them manage to wade through the Socratic obstacle course and return to finish law school. Of course, those who return become a part of the tradition, as they have realized that the Socratic method is essentially a very lazy-ass way of teaching. Two years later, these students graduate - and they are dangerous.

Bestowed with this newfound knowledge as power, I must now reflect upon my favourite answers to unexpected questions, courtesy of a few great oralists:

1. It depends...could you clarify your position so that I may provide a more accurate answer for you?

2. That could go either way, really....[insert some bullshit followup phrase similar to above]

3. Interesting thought there, freako. You got anything to back that up?

4. That is a valid question, but unfortunately, I am far to busy to answer it for you. Why don't you research that issue and let me know what you come up with? Indeed, I am very interested in the conclusion and all its resulting implications, but analyzing the problem yourself will benefit you far more in the long run. Oh, and when I said was too busy, I also meant that my time is more important than yours.

Ah yes, this will go far in the courtroom, indeed.

Posted by: Sadie at 03:15 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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L'Idiot

I saw picutres of these morons on the news last night, and it started me on a rant that Kathy unfortunately had to endure. (We trade off ranting whenever the news is on...this is our past time.)

Thousands of winemakers have staged protests in the streets of France to demand government help over falling exports and a slump in domestic sales.

Gee. Let's guess WHY exports are falling and prices are dropping:
They blame over-production, shrinking exports and a government campaign against alcohol abuse for what union leaders call a "crisis" in winemaking.

Over-production? How can that be possible from such a 'struggling' industry? Oh, I remember...how about THE BLOODY GOVERNMENT SUBSIDIES YOU MORONS MARCH IN THE STREETS FOR EVERY SIX MONTHS!?!?

Idiots. You take money out of the hands of people who engage in marketable activity (via taxes) to facilitate more production than the market will bear and - NO SHIT - you're going to get the very over-production you're bitching about now! When the hell are you going to figure out that MARKET FORCES WORK!!

Of course, what does the collective economic genius of the French farmer come up with as a solution?

The unions want the government to provide money for farmers wishing to move from vines to other crops and greater compensation for uprooting unprofitable vineyards.

That's it...take more money out of the system because you're too stupid to choose to produce marketable goods.

That's almost as rich as this stupid statement of the week: 'The focus by the world's richest countries on debt relief is misplaced and donors should instead concentrate onincreasing aid flows to poor countries' so says the IMF's chief economist, Raghuram Rajan.

Where'd you get your economics degree buddy? How in the hell do people get to these positions in powerful international organizations without knowing the first thing about how things work in the real world?

These are the kinds of things that make me hope against hope that the U.S. congress pulls it's collective head out of it's ass and approves Bolton as ambassador to the U.N. Forget sharp elbows, the U.N., the World Bank and the IMF need to have a flame thrower taken to them.

Posted by: MRN aka "The Husband" at 08:07 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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May 26, 2005

Float Like A Butterfly, Sting Like A Bee

Isn't that how one deals with a showoff opponent in the boxing ring? Ah well, no matter, since I'm only teasing Robbo here. It's a pleasure to step onto the Cake Eater home turf, since I'm usually acting silly over here. Anyhoo, I thought it proper to step in and check the place out briefly, just to see if any renovations were needed. As expected, Kathy keeps a ship-shape operation, and all is in working order. As promised, I shall make an official appearance tomorrow.

Yip Yip!

Posted by: Sadie at 03:40 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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You Guys Like Quizes, Right?

Well, here's one:
St. Pius X
You are Pope St. Pius X. You'd rather be right than
newfangled.


Which Twentieth Century Pope Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Actually, I'm an old-fashioned Rite I Episcopalian, so I'm not up on my recent Catholic history. Nonetheless, I think I'm pleased with this result. I'm certainly not surprised.

Yips! er, I mean Slice o' Cake to The Irish Elk.

Posted by: Robert at 03:12 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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A Little Help?

By the way, I meant to mention that the last thing I want is for Kathy to come home to a blog empty of all sound save the chirp of a lonely cricket, so if there's any particular topic that you Cake-Lovers would like me to ramble on about, well, feel free to drop a comment and let me know.

Posted by: Robert at 12:15 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Fight! Fight!

Jay Tea over at Wizbang is ruminating on the lessons that can, and perhaps should be learned from schoolyard scuffles.

This reminds me of the single genuine fight I ever got into in school. I was in seventh grade (at Eisenhower Middle School in San Antonio, for those of you keeping score). There was a guy a grade behind me who took the same bus home, so we generally had to hang around in the same area of the bus stop after school. He was a nasty bastard - hyper-aggressive and a real bully.

One afternoon, I somehow got on his bad side and he started going for me. You have to understand that I was a flabby, scrawny and (at the same time) slightly chunky kid with thick glasses. I don't think he really expected any resistance. Nonetheless, for whatever reason, something snapped off in me: when he started shoving me around, I hauled off and slugged him. To this day, I remember the round-eyed look of wonder that sat on his face for an instant. Then the battle light flamed up and he came for me again.

As it turned out, the kid was aggressive but very wild. He sent haymakers all over the place, only a few of which got anywhere near me. In the meantime, I managed to land several solid shots to his face, eventually bloodying his nose. After a time, he closed in and we fell down in a clinch. I dunno what would have happened next, because at that point the bus stop monitor appeared and broke it up. She then marched us off to the vice principal's office, where it was explained to me that the punishment for fighting was a paddling (this was in, lessee, about 1977 or so). I was given a permission slip to take home for my parents to sign and dismissed back to the bus.

When I got home, I explained to the 'rents what had happened. They told me that I'd done exactly the right thing, but that the rules were the rules and I had to go ahead and take the punishment.

The next day, I remember that I was in Mr. Gillespie's history class when word came down from the office that they were ready for me. As I left the room, I could hear the whispering all around me.

When I got to the VP, he again explained why I was being punished and asked me if I was sorry. I said yes I was, but that I had only been defending myself and that I'd probably do it again if I had to. He nodded and proceeded to have me empty my back pockets and lean over a chair as he reached round for his paddle.

Well, I can't really recall now whether it hurt very much. I don't think so. But here's the thing - I only got one swat. That was it. The other kid, so I was told, got the max of six. And because he was a perpetual troublemaker, I'd go bail the VP hit him harder than me.

Personally, I think I learned an awful lot about character and consequences from that little episode, all of it to the good. I doubt very much that anyone would take away similarly useful wisdom in this day and age.

Posted by: Robert at 12:06 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Gratuitous Random Fight Club Observation

I might be on thin ground with this.

Maybe the first rule of plot implausibility is that you don't talk about plot implausibility.

Then again, although I've seen this film several times, I've never actually seen the very end of it, so perhaps there's some big chunk of explanation that I've simply missed.

But not knowing what the hell I'm talking about has never barred me from opining before, so I don't really see why it should start now.

So here goes:

I can see where, if coming out of a bar and spotting two guys beating the crap out of each other, I would be intrigued. And I can see where, once I got an idea of what was going on, I might be tempted to join in - writers as diverse as Hemingway and Wodehouse have written about the sublime meaning of boxing. And once I joined in, if one of the ring-leaders started serving up helpings of dorm room bull session anti-Establishment cant, I might be inclined to listen to them. My crew coach in college was a past-master at this kind of thing. And once I started listening to said cant from said ring-leader, yes, I can see how I might eventually be converted into an econo-terrorism zealot.

But if I come out of that bar and see one guy beating the crap out of himself? Well.....I don't think I'm going to look on him as potential Fuhrer material. Know what I mean?

Just saying.

Posted by: Robert at 07:18 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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May 25, 2005

You Would Have Seen This Anyway

Kathy and I have a long tradition of pinching memes from each other. So here is one served up courtesy of the Impenetrable One:

The following all begin with 'In your lifetime, have you....'

1. ...ridden on a rollercoaster? I rode on a semi-grownup one on my recent trip to the Dark Lord Mickey's Kingdom. That was plenty for me. I am not fond of being frightened.

2. ...performed (in any area of the arts) onstage? I was in various piano recitals and competitions as a kid, the last ones being during my high school years. While in law school, I played Lysander in Midsummer Night's Dream and Jimmy Farrell in John Synge's Playboy of the Western World in productions at the Missus' college. I would also include the various trials, hearings, moot courts and mock trials that I've done, since oral legal advocacy is as much stagecraft as it is anything else.

3. ...planted a garden? "Planted a garden?" they ask! As if I can get myself to shut up about it......

4. ...ever had to reformat your hard drive due to a virus/spyware? I only vaguely know what this means, so the answer is no.

5. ...written a book? A poem? A song? I've written various poems and songs, mostly in light comic verse, all for private consumption. And I wrote a very laborious minuet in the style of Haydn once that, if nothing else, convinced me that I really have no talent for musical composition.

6. ...sang karaoke? As I've said at my own site, the story that, dressed in a tunic and chains, I had to get on a table in the middle of the Missus' college dining hall and sing along to Madonna's "Like A Virgin" at the top of my voice has been taken badly out of context.

7. ...been interviewed by a local TV station/newspaper? Nobody actually seeks out my opinion on anything, so instead I force it on them. Prior to blogging, I used to do a goodish bit of letter-to-the-editor writing and even had one published in The Wall Street Journal a year or two ago.

8. ...witnessed a tornado/earthquake/hurricane first-hand? I've been through a couple of hurricanes, although they were usually tropical storms by the time they got to my neck of the woods. The only gen-u-ine hurricane battering I experienced was when I was a junior at the People's Glorious Soviet of Middltetown, CT and Hurricane Gloria came rolling up the Connecticut River. On the other hand, my brother was a medical student in Charleston, SC when Hurricane Hugo hit it head on and had to work in the hospital all the way through it.

As for tornados, I've never actually seen one other than a couple of waterspouts. Every now and again I think it would be cool to take one of those storm-chaser tours to try and get a look at a Tornado Alley Special.

Earthquake? Nope, and I'm not sure that I'd want to. The sensation of having the ground shake under your feet, I'm told, is horrifying.

9. ...participated in a photo scavenger hunt? Nope - don't know what that means.

10. ...traveled to another country? Canada (New Brunswick) and Mexico (Texas border region) several times. And I lived in London for a year after college.


Posted by: Robert at 02:19 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Hi, Kathy's Mom!

Yes, it is I, Robbo the Llamabutcher, trying my very first test post here at the House O' Cake-Eating.

Even if you don't click over to our digs as Kathy says, you probably at least recognize my name by now. Just by way of adding in a few more biographical details, I'm a forty year old lawyer living outside of Dee Cee in Northern Virginia along with my wife of (almost) twelve years and our three little girls (known in the Blogsphere as the "Llama-ettes"). I blog occassionally about politics, but more and more prefer to ramble about culture - high, low and throat. (Steve, my partner in Llamadom, is more of the political guy. He's also in charge of the photoshopping.)

As a matter of fact, Kathy and I first met on-line when we discovered we shared the mutual opinion that Emma Woodhouse was a more satisfying Jane Austen heroine than Lizzie Bennett.

[Insert sound of daemonic cackling here.]

Oh, this is going to be fun.......

Posted by: Robert at 11:04 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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