Author Archives: JL

October 26, 2012

Sarah Palin’s Faux Paux – Just Another Excuse for Latest Hairball She’s Hacked Up

By JL

Just when I thought former Alaska Governor and Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin could no longer cause me to drop my jaw in disbelief, again she astounds me with her most unbelievable gaff yet.

In a note posted on her Facebook page accusing President Obama of lies and a cover-up regarding the attack on the consulate in Bhengazi, she wrote “President Obama’s shuck and jive shtick with these Benghazi lies must end.”

In the aftermath of opposition from numerous critics, Palin rebutted with more than a trace of ire, explaining she often uses the phrase when chastising her daughter for avoiding homework. “Just to be careful, from now on I’ll avoid using it with Piper, and I would appreciate it if the media refrained from using words and phrases like igloo, Eskimo Pie, and ‘when hell freezes over,’ as they might be considered offensive by my extended Alaska Native family,” she stated.

Explaining that she would choose to chastise President Obama in the same way she gets after an immature school child adds insult to injury. Her choice of words in this latest verbal debacle exposes a transparent ethnocentrism based in dislike and fear of those who don’t fit into her group of white, American-born patriots. Her phraseology harkens back to a time in our country when African American’s were enslaved, treated as having no more intelligence than a young child and denied a voice in their own governance. It is on par with the empty chair on the GOP convention stage, lauded as brilliant by so many of her party’s rank and file. As a standard bearer for conservative American’s, Palin should endeavor to elevate the larger political dialogue above the use of such demeaning language.

It is a stretch to believe that she intended no slur by her use of words that most well socialized persons understand to be a dated ethnic stereotype. That would be akin to believing she might teach Trig the well known counting rhyme, eeny, meeny, miny, moe, without changing the offensive and inflammatory subject in the follow-up sentence from a bygone era, to the current “tiger”.

An illustration Palin herself might more readily understand (and I make this assumption because there are two Downs children in my own extended family) would be to call a physically or mentally challenged person a “retard” in this day and age. Everybody knows better.

If Sarah Palin wishes to place herself in a position of leadership on the political front, she does not have the luxury of being a lazy linguist. It would serve her well to take the time and make the effort to expand her cultural and social education, and smooth the sharp edges of her plain-folk talk.

The point is, by virtue of Palin’s lack of worldly sophistication I could call her a hick, a redneck, or socially retarded (to use the word in its true meaning of delayed development), but that would just show ignorance on my part.

And that said, Congratulations Sarah Palin, you win the MAD Goddess Faux Paux Hairball.

. . . . . . mid
GET A ^ LIFE at MAD Goddess.com

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August 1, 2012

LIFE UNSCHEDULED

By JL

I’ve been carrying out some practical assessment lately, something we old broads do more and more often as age creeps up. 
When I quit my day job five years ago to freelance from home on a semi-retired scheduled, I became – well – lazy.  In my defense, midlife hit me with a shit-storm akin to Hurricane Katrina and I’m not sure I’ll ever be what I once was.  Losing six immediate family members (three of them far too young to go), in the span of three years, followed by my hubby’s diagnosis of congestive heart failure will do that to a girl.
I digress. It’s not that my house is filthy  – well, maybe by my mother’s standards it is. And while it’s a cluttered mess most of the time I’m not ready to star in an episode of Hoarders (yet). But when I walked in the back door the other day and recognized that singularly distinct scent of grandma and grandpa’s house I knew I’d been neglecting the down and dirty cleaning for far too long.
It’s certainly not like I don’t know how to do it. Every Saturday my mother’s house smelled of Pinesol, Lemon Pledge and Clorox.  Windows were thrown open, even in the dead of winter at well below zero, for the entire time it took her, my sister and I to clean the two main floors of a turn of the century foursquare.
During the week there were never dishes in the sink, the kitchen was swept numerous times a day and the vacuum ran at least once a day. I recall the time my father came home from work, bent down to pick up one infinitesimal piece of lint from the living room carpet, and sighed with disdain for my mother’s careless oversight. Yeah – that’s the way he rolled.
So how, other than the blows of life, did I get so lazy? Unscheduled time.  When I was raising kids, working part time and trying to squeeze in leisure pursuits, I was acutely aware of what finite time I had for cleaning. I knew if I let it slide, I’d never get caught up.
It seems that now having an abundance of free time feeds my procrastination gene.  Why vacuum now when I have all day tomorrow?  Why scrub the bathrooms when it’s so hot and humid, maybe it will cool down tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow, there’s always tomorrow; it’s only a day away . . .
I need to get back on track. Today is the day – not tomorrow.  I have to institute a regular regime of household cleanliness. I want to breath the piney, lemony, antiseptic scent of my youth – or maybe just a good dose of Simple Green (hopefully more organic and health conscious).
The way I figure, I have seven basic rooms in my house.  There are seven days in the week.  What a coincidence!  One area a day.  Ah, I remember those embroidered tea towels . . . Monday is laundry day, Tuesday is dusting, Wednesday is baking, and so on.
In consideration of weekends, both wanting them “off” and the possibility of unexpected guests, I have designated Friday kitchen and master bath day. Thursday is master bedroom and a quick go-over of the guest room (again – at the ready for unexpected guests).  That leaves Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday for dining room, laundry room and living room.
I’m posting a checklist on the fridge to keep me on track. Popular wisdom says it takes a month to break an old habit and form a new one.  I’ll keep you posted on how that’s working out for me.

. . . . . .  
          mid 

GET A ^ LIFE at MAD Goddess

Leave a comment | posted in Life Unscheduled

June 6, 2012

PUH-LEEESSE!

By JL

 

 

What in blue blazes has happened to manners and polite gestures in this country?  I know, I know, every generation that ages to the top of the hill has had the same complaint. This fact gives me little comfort. Rather, it gives me great cause for concern. Is this century’s long downward spiral of social niceties and simple decorum leading to our demise as a civilized species?
What has happened to protocol?  When did Miss Manners go missing? And where in the world is Emily Post?   Is this yet more collateral damage of a crumbling economy? Have the mavens of good manners fallen victim to job cutbacks?
Where are all the overbearing, bossy aunties and grumpy uncles? What about the finger wagging grandma and grandpas that put us in our places when we got a little too “cheeky” or “fresh”?  Have these snowbirds flown the coop, and will those of us left behind be pecked to death in an onslaught of rudeness?
I say, “No, gosh darn it!”  If we don’t want to watch future generations degenerate into a society of grunting ape-like buffoons, we must call forth and embrace our inner etiquette vigilantes. Volunteer now. Join the ranks of the Politeness Police! Please.
I’m doing my part. I have planned a strategic defensive to nip rudeness in the bud, starting with telephone talk. No longer will I patiently wait through an interrupted phone conversation when a friend’s call waiting beeps. It’s bad enough that businesses subject us to their idea of pleasant on-hold music; I don’t need to cool my heels with the dead silence of a friend’s phone in my ear. From now on when said friends asks if I can hold while they take another call, I will simply and politely say, “No thank you. Call me back when you are finished with your more important conversation.”
Nor will I conduct any more in person conversations with somebody suffering from nose-in-smart-phone-syndrome. I don’t care if they are talking, texting, tweeting or cyber cheating. If they can’t disconnect from their virtual scene long enough to engage in a real-world social encounter, I’ll leave them to their sophomoric simulated life.
In an effort to be the change I want to see in the world, I have planned an offense strategy as well. It begins with remembering to always say please and thank you. Yes, we all learned that in kindergarten, if not before, but I think refresher courses in the art of being humble and expressing gratitude are in order.
If somebody holds a door open for me, I always say “Thank you,” with a big smile. When I open the door for others, or hold it open for somebody close behind me after I’ve passed through, I notice that there is a bout a 50/50 chance I’ll even be acknowledged (see Nose in Phone Syndrome above).
Don’t get me started on fast food and how it has ruined table manners. I’ll just mention what should be common knowledge. Don’t talk with your mouth full (it probably bears notation here that full is a relevant term and means any amount of food in your mouth). Don’t chew with your mouth open. Put your napkin in your lap and don’t just let it sit there – use it.  Spoons and forks are handy utensils; they keep your fingers clean. Of course, there are acceptable finger foods (snacks like chips and peanuts, some  hors d’oeuvres, and fried chicken or BBQ ribs – but only at a picnic) but, please, do not lick your fingers, lips or chin (see napkin usage above).
At potlucks and buffets put less on your plate than you think you might eat (this isn’t a contest and there are no trophies for balancing the highest tower of food in one trip). You can go back for seconds if there is enough—after everybody has eaten once.
No double dipping, and do not take a bite of food then return it to a communal serving dish. You’d think that would be a no brainer, wouldn’t you?  I mean, if you’ve ever raised or cared for children, didn’t you teach them that?  “If you touch that cookie you have to take that one.”  Or,  “If you take a bite and don’t like something, leave it on your own plate or throw it away.”
Recently I was performing in a community production honoring our local Armed Forces Veterans and those currently serving. For the finale, we planned to sing several verses of God Bless America, walking down into the audience to shake hands and offer flowers and treats.
I had a plate of brownies ready and when I offered them first to those on stage with me (it was supposed to be a “party” scene), not one, but two of my fellow cast members took a bite, didn’t like it, then PUT THE BROWNIE BACK ON THE PLATE. One even told me if I didn’t like what she’d done (which I had already made perfectly clear I didn’t) I could put it in my pocket.  When I declined, she stuffed it down my shirt and laughed.
Now, I’m all for good fun and our little community performances are a lot like amateur night on the Carol Burnet show – lots of slapstick and pratfalls – but, seriously, did she think that was okay?
Since she thought it was for fun, and all part of the act, I thought about upstaging her and smacking her in the face with the rest of the plate – but that wouldn’t have been polite of me, now would it?

. . . . . . mid

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