Today I got up early, filled the car with gas, and drove five young men to Copper Mountain to enjoy a freakingly cold day skiing. It will be my only day of skiing this year.
So how did everything go? Much better than this year's Turkey Bowl. While I am still in pain, I can function.
The painful part has nothing to do with being old, and out of shape, and overweight ... well maybe the overweight part is a contributing factor.
None of my sons had ever skied before last year. Last year I took them out on the slopes and showed them how to walk up the hill, do the snowplow and fall down then stand up again without dieing. We were able to go on several runs before time ran out and we all went to the lodge to eat chili out of very small bowls.
This year we started with many great prospects. My number two son had two friends along and they were going to spend the day together. I was going to spend my time with my number three son (an 11-year-old), and my number one son was going to do his own thing.
On our first run down the bunny slopes we learned that number one son's ski boots were causing a "stress fracture" on his foot. (His foot only hurt, however, when he was skiing. Not when he had the boots on and was walking, but only when he skied.) He went to the lodge to wait for the rest of us.
Number three son did one more run then decided the sub zero weather was too much for him. He went to the lodge to hang out with son number one.
Number two son was having fun, but one of his friends "got hypothermia and passed out from the cold." (He actually had none of the symptoms of hypothermia, but hypothermia is much more dramatic than saying, "I got cold and whimped out.") I met them in the lodge as well, but not before my feet slipped out from under me on the resort bus and I landed square on my not so square keister. I now have a bum rear. It only hurts when I stand, sit or lie down, however. I think I will live.
I don't know if I bruised it, and no one has accepted my request to check it out for me.
Finally, after another round of small chili bowls at the lodge, I took number two son and his friends back to the slopes for a couple more runs. I ended up hanging back watching my boy ski carefully down the hill. I think he is finally getting the hang of it.
That made the sore bottom worth the whole trip.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Gooseberry on Gooseberries
Back in the days before television, folks had to resort to other means of entertainment. Most of the activities, like spitting, whittling, quilting bees and country dances, required direct personal interaction. This meant people would get close together, which, if you think about it, is probably why people invented television in the first place, because not only did people spend a lot time entertaining themselves in each others' company, but they also didn't bathe a lot.
Which begs the question, how did our greatgrandparents get together in the first place? Did they like the way they each other smelled? Did they not even notice? Were there other things that attracted themselves to each other, things like neat greasy hair dos? Extra hairy arms, or even super snazzy teeth problems?
Regardless of the obstacles, we know that the urge to populate the planet was stronger still and they found their way to become our ancestors.
What does this have to do with Gooseberries?
Back at the turn of the century in the fine state of Kentucky a family with three young ladies drove into the yard of a family with three young men. The family of girls were moving into the neighborhood and, for a reason lost in the mists of time, they drove into the Wirtham family yard. As the girls looked out and saw the young men, each of the girls in turn staked their claim on one of the young men.
"I get that one," one of the girls said pointing to one of the brothers.
"I get that one," her said, pointing to another brother.
"And I get that one," the last sister said pointing to the last brother.
And thus did my greatgrandmother and her sisters find their men.
Why did great-grandma pick great-grandpa? He was the one with a mustache, of course. The irony of the situation is that Great-grandpa's name was Eureka and everyone called him Reke.
We must ask the question once again, what does this have to do with Gooseberries?
A few years later the transcontinenetal railroad was being built across the state of Wyoming. Reke took a job as a muleskinner and helped build the railroad. While he was working he wrote the family back home and had them move out to the new state so they could homestead. They settled in the Big Horn Basin, an agricultural region located in the northwest corner of the state. The specific district in which they settled is, to this day, called the Gooseberry District.
Which begs the question, how did our greatgrandparents get together in the first place? Did they like the way they each other smelled? Did they not even notice? Were there other things that attracted themselves to each other, things like neat greasy hair dos? Extra hairy arms, or even super snazzy teeth problems?
Regardless of the obstacles, we know that the urge to populate the planet was stronger still and they found their way to become our ancestors.
What does this have to do with Gooseberries?
Back at the turn of the century in the fine state of Kentucky a family with three young ladies drove into the yard of a family with three young men. The family of girls were moving into the neighborhood and, for a reason lost in the mists of time, they drove into the Wirtham family yard. As the girls looked out and saw the young men, each of the girls in turn staked their claim on one of the young men.
"I get that one," one of the girls said pointing to one of the brothers.
"I get that one," her said, pointing to another brother.
"And I get that one," the last sister said pointing to the last brother.
And thus did my greatgrandmother and her sisters find their men.
Why did great-grandma pick great-grandpa? He was the one with a mustache, of course. The irony of the situation is that Great-grandpa's name was Eureka and everyone called him Reke.
We must ask the question once again, what does this have to do with Gooseberries?
A few years later the transcontinenetal railroad was being built across the state of Wyoming. Reke took a job as a muleskinner and helped build the railroad. While he was working he wrote the family back home and had them move out to the new state so they could homestead. They settled in the Big Horn Basin, an agricultural region located in the northwest corner of the state. The specific district in which they settled is, to this day, called the Gooseberry District.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Gooseberry: Long Live the Underwear Fairy
My wonderful wife announced she was officially changing the name of the underwear fairy.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"You know how your daughter always goes up to complete strangers and tells them we leave candy for the underwear fairy?" she replied.
"Yeah, so?" I said.
"No one knows what the underwear fairy is, so I have to spend five minutes explaining it to them so they can stop looking at me like I was sick or something."
"What do you propose calling her?"
"The sock fairy."
At this point my other children chimed in with their opinions. But before I get into their comments, I think it is important to explain exactly what the underwear fairy isn't.
The underwear fairy is not a mythical creature that wanders around leaving presents in peoples' underwear. Nor is it a being that goes around only in its underwear, or one who picks up underwear left under someone else's pillow. The underwear fairy is not a sick and twisted individual in any way. In fact, the underwear fairy is quite helpful.
You know how you use up all your underwear and put into the wash then suddenly one day it all miraculously appears back in your drawer? How exactly do you think it gets there? The underwear fairy, of course.
In an effort to thank the underwear fairy for all she does, I have taken to leaving candy in my drawer specifically for her use and enjoyment.
"What? Change the name of the underwear fairy?" My oldest son, a terrific young man of great poise and stature, summed it up best. "We wouldn't call the tooth fairy the tongue fairy. That just wouldn't be right."
My second son, also a terrific young man, but one who tends to go off on tangents from time to time, put in his two-cents. "The only thing worse than the taste of blood in your mouth is the taste of your own blood in your mouth."
My wonderful wife and I are still trying to figure that one out.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"You know how your daughter always goes up to complete strangers and tells them we leave candy for the underwear fairy?" she replied.
"Yeah, so?" I said.
"No one knows what the underwear fairy is, so I have to spend five minutes explaining it to them so they can stop looking at me like I was sick or something."
"What do you propose calling her?"
"The sock fairy."
At this point my other children chimed in with their opinions. But before I get into their comments, I think it is important to explain exactly what the underwear fairy isn't.
The underwear fairy is not a mythical creature that wanders around leaving presents in peoples' underwear. Nor is it a being that goes around only in its underwear, or one who picks up underwear left under someone else's pillow. The underwear fairy is not a sick and twisted individual in any way. In fact, the underwear fairy is quite helpful.
You know how you use up all your underwear and put into the wash then suddenly one day it all miraculously appears back in your drawer? How exactly do you think it gets there? The underwear fairy, of course.
In an effort to thank the underwear fairy for all she does, I have taken to leaving candy in my drawer specifically for her use and enjoyment.
"What? Change the name of the underwear fairy?" My oldest son, a terrific young man of great poise and stature, summed it up best. "We wouldn't call the tooth fairy the tongue fairy. That just wouldn't be right."
My second son, also a terrific young man, but one who tends to go off on tangents from time to time, put in his two-cents. "The only thing worse than the taste of blood in your mouth is the taste of your own blood in your mouth."
My wonderful wife and I are still trying to figure that one out.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Gooseberry on Nixon v Bush
The incredible political mind of Hollywood producer and director Ron Howard has adroitly drawn the connection between the secretive power abuses of Richard Nixon and the bumbling defensive rearguard actions against terrorism of George Bush.
Christening the past eight years as an "imperial presidency" Howard and his associates have climbed onto the Hollywood elite bandwagon where they: 1. assume because they are involved in entertainment that they know anything about real life, and 2. assume the rest of us actually care what they think.
Ironically, there are two professions in the United States that survive solely on the behest, acceptance and blessing of the unwashed masses, namely, politicians and celebrities. Both exist because the rest of us allow them to. And yet too often, once an individual rises to the pinnacle of recognition, they turn on those of us who got them there and consider themselves above anything common (the irony is that there is nothing so common as things popular to the populace, which by their very definitions are celebrities and politicians). They think we are stupid and tacky, but unlike Groucho Marx who honestly refused to be a member of any club that would have him as a member, today's celebrity forgets that we, the stupid and tacky, picked them to be a celebrity.
So how do we distinguish Nixon from Bush? Once again we look to the popular press. Nixon's imperical presidency was created through a group communications process called group think, which is defined as "a pattern of thought characterized by self-deception, forced manufacture of consent, and conformity to group values and ethics." (Merriam Webster) Nixon created a presidential atmosphere where there was no scrutiny, no argument and no opposing opinions. In short, he did everything in the dead of night with a posse of zombies who thought Nixon could do no wrong.
Bush, on the other hand, has not had a moment of peace from critical review since even before he took office (arguably, no other president has suffered from the same scrutiny as has Bush 43). Nothing Bush has done in the name of national security was done in a spirit of self-deception. When he made his first state of the union address after September 11, 2001, he clearly outlined that the road ahead would be hard, and long, and that it would involve actions and reactions that many would not agree with. He also prophetically stated that he would be abandoned by most of the nation before his task was completed. In other words, he has done what he has done knowing full well it would not always be right, but it would be done anyway to keep America safe.
To summarize: Bush is not Nixon. Obama is not the Messiah. Bill Clinton is not Satan. And Ron Howard is not an intelligent political type.
Christening the past eight years as an "imperial presidency" Howard and his associates have climbed onto the Hollywood elite bandwagon where they: 1. assume because they are involved in entertainment that they know anything about real life, and 2. assume the rest of us actually care what they think.
Ironically, there are two professions in the United States that survive solely on the behest, acceptance and blessing of the unwashed masses, namely, politicians and celebrities. Both exist because the rest of us allow them to. And yet too often, once an individual rises to the pinnacle of recognition, they turn on those of us who got them there and consider themselves above anything common (the irony is that there is nothing so common as things popular to the populace, which by their very definitions are celebrities and politicians). They think we are stupid and tacky, but unlike Groucho Marx who honestly refused to be a member of any club that would have him as a member, today's celebrity forgets that we, the stupid and tacky, picked them to be a celebrity.
So how do we distinguish Nixon from Bush? Once again we look to the popular press. Nixon's imperical presidency was created through a group communications process called group think, which is defined as "a pattern of thought characterized by self-deception, forced manufacture of consent, and conformity to group values and ethics." (Merriam Webster) Nixon created a presidential atmosphere where there was no scrutiny, no argument and no opposing opinions. In short, he did everything in the dead of night with a posse of zombies who thought Nixon could do no wrong.
Bush, on the other hand, has not had a moment of peace from critical review since even before he took office (arguably, no other president has suffered from the same scrutiny as has Bush 43). Nothing Bush has done in the name of national security was done in a spirit of self-deception. When he made his first state of the union address after September 11, 2001, he clearly outlined that the road ahead would be hard, and long, and that it would involve actions and reactions that many would not agree with. He also prophetically stated that he would be abandoned by most of the nation before his task was completed. In other words, he has done what he has done knowing full well it would not always be right, but it would be done anyway to keep America safe.
To summarize: Bush is not Nixon. Obama is not the Messiah. Bill Clinton is not Satan. And Ron Howard is not an intelligent political type.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Gooseberry’s Rules on Politics #7
Never write a perfect bill.
“When I started, I wasn't even a bill, I was just an idea. Some folks back home decided they wanted a law passed, so they called their local Congressman and he said, "You're right, there oughta be a law." Then he sat down and wrote me out and introduced me to Congress. And I became a bill…”
--Schoolhouse Rock “I’m Just a Bill”
Never write the perfect bill. If you do, I can guarantee someone will muck it about and fiddle with it until it resembles something no one can live with. Most of the time they do it just to smear their fingerprints on it.
Leave something for the committee to fix.
Require someone to do something outrageous they never would be able to do under normal constitutional circumstances. Require direct federal payments, or include a class of people that should not have even been considered -- someone like old people. Push the envelope, and then make it obvious you are willing to negotiate and let the committee make its counter proposal.
Chances are the bill will still not be perfect, but it will be something they will be willing to support. And it’s all really about getting the committee to support your bill because bills that don't have committee support go no where at all.
If you are not working with the committee, or if they direct you to a specific member’s office as in “we won’t move on that subject unless we get the support of Congressman X,” then do whatever you can to get Congressman X to come to the table and discuss the bill, even if he directly opposes it.
Once you get him to the table, give him the opportunity to make changes, any changes. Preferably lots and lots of changes. In fact, you want him to make so many changes and to invest so much time in the issue that he assumes personal responsibility for its very existence. With enough blood, sweat and tears invested in the process he will feel obligated to not only support the bill, but he will even be willing to lie down in front of a bus to get the committee to take the bill up for consideration.
Fortunately for you, the committee will be looking at an imperfect bill (that the Congressman X messed up greatly). Here you can be a great help to the committee by giving them an alternative draft (once again with an obvious fault that the committee can “fix” on its own) which the committee will undoubtedly adopt as its own personal proposal (make sure none of your fingerprints are on this particular draft). You then help Congressman X see the value of working with the committee draft in developing a “compromise” solution, one that will allow him to get a fantastic win on an issue in which he has already invested a boatload of time and effort . At this point, he won't even care what the final bill looks like, he will only want to demonstrate leadership on the issue.
“When I started, I wasn't even a bill, I was just an idea. Some folks back home decided they wanted a law passed, so they called their local Congressman and he said, "You're right, there oughta be a law." Then he sat down and wrote me out and introduced me to Congress. And I became a bill…”
--Schoolhouse Rock “I’m Just a Bill”
Never write the perfect bill. If you do, I can guarantee someone will muck it about and fiddle with it until it resembles something no one can live with. Most of the time they do it just to smear their fingerprints on it.
Leave something for the committee to fix.
Require someone to do something outrageous they never would be able to do under normal constitutional circumstances. Require direct federal payments, or include a class of people that should not have even been considered -- someone like old people. Push the envelope, and then make it obvious you are willing to negotiate and let the committee make its counter proposal.
Chances are the bill will still not be perfect, but it will be something they will be willing to support. And it’s all really about getting the committee to support your bill because bills that don't have committee support go no where at all.
If you are not working with the committee, or if they direct you to a specific member’s office as in “we won’t move on that subject unless we get the support of Congressman X,” then do whatever you can to get Congressman X to come to the table and discuss the bill, even if he directly opposes it.
Once you get him to the table, give him the opportunity to make changes, any changes. Preferably lots and lots of changes. In fact, you want him to make so many changes and to invest so much time in the issue that he assumes personal responsibility for its very existence. With enough blood, sweat and tears invested in the process he will feel obligated to not only support the bill, but he will even be willing to lie down in front of a bus to get the committee to take the bill up for consideration.
Fortunately for you, the committee will be looking at an imperfect bill (that the Congressman X messed up greatly). Here you can be a great help to the committee by giving them an alternative draft (once again with an obvious fault that the committee can “fix” on its own) which the committee will undoubtedly adopt as its own personal proposal (make sure none of your fingerprints are on this particular draft). You then help Congressman X see the value of working with the committee draft in developing a “compromise” solution, one that will allow him to get a fantastic win on an issue in which he has already invested a boatload of time and effort . At this point, he won't even care what the final bill looks like, he will only want to demonstrate leadership on the issue.
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