In case you Still don't believe that Haverhill, Massachusetts is actually the center of the universe, the Washington Post today verified this truism.
Geneaologists have determined that President Obama and Senator-Elect Scott Brown are related. Their mothers are both related to a gentleman named Richard Singletary, who died in 1687 and who is from ... drumroll please .... Haverhill, Massachusetts.
Here is the link: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/01/29/AR2010012901790.html.
Like almost everything else these days ... Hard to believe, but true.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Girls Just Want To Have Fun
For sure, death is not an exciting topic. Unless, of course, you're Randy Pausch or Mitch Albom, or Jack Nicholson, who have each made millions discussing/acting the subject. If you don't believe in the power of marketing, all you have to know is that even my son and his friend recently compiled a "Bucket List," probably a side effect of their upcoming transition from high school to college and Beyond! Some things on the list: Sky dive, Party in Cancun, Protest Something, Storm Chase, Wedding Crash, Walk on The Great Wall, Be a Game Show Contestant. Cool. (They did put Run a Marathon ... smile!)
When death happens, writers who seek meaning in their own written word and that of others are called upon to make sense from seemingly senseless events.
My Aunt Catherine died last week. She had been diagnosed with gall bladder cancer early last summer, and despite several surgeries, procedures, and chemotherapy, she passed away. She fought bravely, but couldn't escape the reality of the disease.
The first thing I did after learning of her diagnosis was to make a doctor's appointment. The second thing I did was to get online and find out all I possibly could about gall bladder cancer. None of it was good, though we all thought she had more time. The reality of my aunt's situation was that she had probably had the disease for years, and was only diagnosed when she couldn't ignore the symptoms any longer. Only now have we realized that the last six months of her life were likely the last she would have sustained had she received her diagnosis two or three years ago. The irony, of course, is if she had known these were her last six months, she likely would have made alternate choices.
As my aunt's health rapidly failed, I received the news that the father of a close law school friend had died suddenly of a heart attack. Nothing about these events makes any sense to me, as I search for meaning in their too-early passing.
Why do some people live to 100, and some not? Is it that life is meant to be lived as if you only had 30 days left? Is it that you are meant to live every day as if it were your last? Are we left to believe that even in the face of inevitable death, we would do better to live every day "normally", and stick to our every day schedules with ordinary highs and lows, rather than run and out and check off the items on our own bucket lists?
Who Knows. I don't have any answers. And, that's the frustrating part. There should be answers. There should be cures. There should be ways to heal even the most deadly illnesses. Why was it easier to put a man on the moon than it has been to find a cure for cancer or AIDS? Very strange, don't you think?
It's a little to soon for me to find humor in any of this, but I did want to let you all know why I've seemed so morose these past several months. I don't need consolation, and I certainly don't want to talk about it again and again and again. As I work on a Tribute for my Aunt, though, I'm in search of meaning, where there seems to be none. It's just life, and death naturally follows.
Here's a picture of my aunt and my mother, a long time ago .... I call it "Girls Just Want To Have Fun!"
When death happens, writers who seek meaning in their own written word and that of others are called upon to make sense from seemingly senseless events.
My Aunt Catherine died last week. She had been diagnosed with gall bladder cancer early last summer, and despite several surgeries, procedures, and chemotherapy, she passed away. She fought bravely, but couldn't escape the reality of the disease.
The first thing I did after learning of her diagnosis was to make a doctor's appointment. The second thing I did was to get online and find out all I possibly could about gall bladder cancer. None of it was good, though we all thought she had more time. The reality of my aunt's situation was that she had probably had the disease for years, and was only diagnosed when she couldn't ignore the symptoms any longer. Only now have we realized that the last six months of her life were likely the last she would have sustained had she received her diagnosis two or three years ago. The irony, of course, is if she had known these were her last six months, she likely would have made alternate choices.
As my aunt's health rapidly failed, I received the news that the father of a close law school friend had died suddenly of a heart attack. Nothing about these events makes any sense to me, as I search for meaning in their too-early passing.
Why do some people live to 100, and some not? Is it that life is meant to be lived as if you only had 30 days left? Is it that you are meant to live every day as if it were your last? Are we left to believe that even in the face of inevitable death, we would do better to live every day "normally", and stick to our every day schedules with ordinary highs and lows, rather than run and out and check off the items on our own bucket lists?
Who Knows. I don't have any answers. And, that's the frustrating part. There should be answers. There should be cures. There should be ways to heal even the most deadly illnesses. Why was it easier to put a man on the moon than it has been to find a cure for cancer or AIDS? Very strange, don't you think?
It's a little to soon for me to find humor in any of this, but I did want to let you all know why I've seemed so morose these past several months. I don't need consolation, and I certainly don't want to talk about it again and again and again. As I work on a Tribute for my Aunt, though, I'm in search of meaning, where there seems to be none. It's just life, and death naturally follows.
Here's a picture of my aunt and my mother, a long time ago .... I call it "Girls Just Want To Have Fun!"
Monday, January 11, 2010
Hunter Gatherers
And now for something completely different ...
When I was in college, I had a Zany friend named Joe. Joe was one of those people you wanted at every party and in every discussion group. He was like a human can of Silly String, waiting to explode in a million unpredictable directions at any moment. Even when you spent a lot of time with him, you couldn't necessarily know how brilliant he was; he was an expert at hiding his brilliance under a thick layer of fun and crazy. Of course, fast forward to 25 years later and you'd see that Joe is living comfortably in NYC with 2.3 children and a wife, with all the accoutrements required for the lifestyle of a successful investment banker, which, not surprisingly, he is. Joe is akin to the Woodstock concertgoers who transformed themselves from hemp lovers to real estate magnates; hard to believe but true.
One of the things I'll always remember about Joe -- in addition to the fact that he once peed in a bottle that he then left it in the fridge, in hopes that his roommate would be tricked into drinking it, which of course he was -- was Joe's preoccupation with Hunter Gatherers. He found the whole subject intriguing, believing it to be an absolutely viable lifestyle for men and women of our generation. I think at one point he may have even tried to draft us into believing we could set up our own Hunter-Gatherer tribe, focusing on the principles of ancient tribes that had allowed paleolithic humans to flourish post-dinosaur. Sadly, I was never much of an anthropologist; I barely knew who Margaret Mead was, and, in four years of college and three of graduate school, I never once crossed the threshhold of an anthropology class. ("Ah, finally, That's the answer!") Luckily, after sophomore year, we all got busier with school, and Joe's ideas about forming our own tribe became less frequent, and then all but forgotten.
I thought of Joe yesterday when I read a cover article from Sunday's NY Times newspaper. The article is entitled "The New Age Cavemen And The City." It is a hoot! You may need to read the article yourself to get the full effect of how looney this is, but here are a few highlights from the article:
"The caveman lifestyle, in Mr. Durant’s interpretation, involves eating large quantities of meat and then fasting between meals to approximate the lean times that his distant ancestors faced between hunts. Vegetables and fruit are fine, but he avoids foods like bread that were unavailable before the invention of agriculture. Mr. Durant believes the human body evolved for a hunter-gatherer lifestyle, and his goal is to wean himself off what he sees as many millenniums of bad habits. These urban cavemen also choose exercise routines focused on sprinting and jumping, to replicate how a prehistoric person might have fled from a mastodon."
Wow, and that's just the beginning! "Mr. Durant" has a three-foot tall meat storage locker in his tiny NYC apartment, in which he keeps "his organ meat and deer ribs." The article goes on to note that the "Paleos", as they are sometimes called, despise their "rival tribe," the "Vegans," because the Paleos believe the human body is essentially "unequipped to handle and agricultural-based diet."
The most ridiculous part of all this manipulation of body and food intake reflects the essence of the Paleos' beliefs: they attempt to duplicate the health and fitness regimen of our earliest ancestors, in order to achieve the physical health and strength these early Paleos ostensibly had. As one physical anthropologist notes in the article, “The male or female of 12,000 to 15,000 years ago will be considerably stronger and in better shape [than people today]." The irony within this syllogism, however, is all too obvious: humans' life span at the time was Very short; "If you made it to age 30 or so, you had done well." The Paleos also fast, and have their blood drawn frequently, because they believe that "various hardships might have occasionally left ancient humans a pint short."
Talk about a Pint Short.... Whom do they think they are kidding? At least Joe had the right idea when he suggested we'd have to go live in the bush in order to replicate the benefits of the Hunter Gatherer lifestyle. The NYC Paleos highlighted in the article are Beyond Ridiculous. For example, Mr. Durant drives a smart car and grows tomatoes on his balcony. Clearly, unavoidable environmental differences between humans now and humans in the Paleolithic Age make any real attempt at replication of the physical ideals of the original Hunter Gatherers impossible. Which, of course, belies the obvious question: Why would anyone want to be a Hunter Gatherer? I mean, there's Going Back, and then there's GOING BACK.
I would love to know what Joe thought when he read the article. Probably, something like, "I know I should be really happy to be living in this beautiful NYC apartment with my beautiful wife and two beautiful children, instead of living in the African bush, hunting and eating mastodon. But, What Iffff?"
When I was in college, I had a Zany friend named Joe. Joe was one of those people you wanted at every party and in every discussion group. He was like a human can of Silly String, waiting to explode in a million unpredictable directions at any moment. Even when you spent a lot of time with him, you couldn't necessarily know how brilliant he was; he was an expert at hiding his brilliance under a thick layer of fun and crazy. Of course, fast forward to 25 years later and you'd see that Joe is living comfortably in NYC with 2.3 children and a wife, with all the accoutrements required for the lifestyle of a successful investment banker, which, not surprisingly, he is. Joe is akin to the Woodstock concertgoers who transformed themselves from hemp lovers to real estate magnates; hard to believe but true.
One of the things I'll always remember about Joe -- in addition to the fact that he once peed in a bottle that he then left it in the fridge, in hopes that his roommate would be tricked into drinking it, which of course he was -- was Joe's preoccupation with Hunter Gatherers. He found the whole subject intriguing, believing it to be an absolutely viable lifestyle for men and women of our generation. I think at one point he may have even tried to draft us into believing we could set up our own Hunter-Gatherer tribe, focusing on the principles of ancient tribes that had allowed paleolithic humans to flourish post-dinosaur. Sadly, I was never much of an anthropologist; I barely knew who Margaret Mead was, and, in four years of college and three of graduate school, I never once crossed the threshhold of an anthropology class. ("Ah, finally, That's the answer!") Luckily, after sophomore year, we all got busier with school, and Joe's ideas about forming our own tribe became less frequent, and then all but forgotten.
I thought of Joe yesterday when I read a cover article from Sunday's NY Times newspaper. The article is entitled "The New Age Cavemen And The City." It is a hoot! You may need to read the article yourself to get the full effect of how looney this is, but here are a few highlights from the article:
"The caveman lifestyle, in Mr. Durant’s interpretation, involves eating large quantities of meat and then fasting between meals to approximate the lean times that his distant ancestors faced between hunts. Vegetables and fruit are fine, but he avoids foods like bread that were unavailable before the invention of agriculture. Mr. Durant believes the human body evolved for a hunter-gatherer lifestyle, and his goal is to wean himself off what he sees as many millenniums of bad habits. These urban cavemen also choose exercise routines focused on sprinting and jumping, to replicate how a prehistoric person might have fled from a mastodon."
Wow, and that's just the beginning! "Mr. Durant" has a three-foot tall meat storage locker in his tiny NYC apartment, in which he keeps "his organ meat and deer ribs." The article goes on to note that the "Paleos", as they are sometimes called, despise their "rival tribe," the "Vegans," because the Paleos believe the human body is essentially "unequipped to handle and agricultural-based diet."
The most ridiculous part of all this manipulation of body and food intake reflects the essence of the Paleos' beliefs: they attempt to duplicate the health and fitness regimen of our earliest ancestors, in order to achieve the physical health and strength these early Paleos ostensibly had. As one physical anthropologist notes in the article, “The male or female of 12,000 to 15,000 years ago will be considerably stronger and in better shape [than people today]." The irony within this syllogism, however, is all too obvious: humans' life span at the time was Very short; "If you made it to age 30 or so, you had done well." The Paleos also fast, and have their blood drawn frequently, because they believe that "various hardships might have occasionally left ancient humans a pint short."
Talk about a Pint Short.... Whom do they think they are kidding? At least Joe had the right idea when he suggested we'd have to go live in the bush in order to replicate the benefits of the Hunter Gatherer lifestyle. The NYC Paleos highlighted in the article are Beyond Ridiculous. For example, Mr. Durant drives a smart car and grows tomatoes on his balcony. Clearly, unavoidable environmental differences between humans now and humans in the Paleolithic Age make any real attempt at replication of the physical ideals of the original Hunter Gatherers impossible. Which, of course, belies the obvious question: Why would anyone want to be a Hunter Gatherer? I mean, there's Going Back, and then there's GOING BACK.
I would love to know what Joe thought when he read the article. Probably, something like, "I know I should be really happy to be living in this beautiful NYC apartment with my beautiful wife and two beautiful children, instead of living in the African bush, hunting and eating mastodon. But, What Iffff?"
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Happy End of 2009
Where have I been? Everywhere, nowhere, here and there, around. My head spinning with seemingly heavy stuff, trying to keep out of my own way. Christmas was fun (long), vacation was good (long), we completely escaped the Swine Flu (the most endangered 2 out of 5 of us were vaccinated) and injury (only one Frigid day of skiing prevented significant risk of bodily harm) and kids are almost back to normal routines (4 swim meets this week between Ethan and Julia; I think I might be coming down with chlorine poisoning).
And, by the way, did I tell you that I'm hungry All Of The Time? Ever since that crazy marathon experience, my body has been craving carbs like never before. Well ... maybe like when I was pregnant and ate endless boxes of Devil Dogs (Julia) and Steak and Cheese Subs from the North End (William). Ah, those were the days. If I look back at those weight gains, and where I am now, I seriously am 6 months pregnant. Seriously, this is Ridiculous. Especially because I'm not having anywhere near the fun I was then actually eating as many Devil Dogs and subs as I wanted. When I was in high school and college, I remember swearing aloud to anyone who would listen that I would NEVER be over a certain weight when I got older. Well, add it to the list of "I would NEVER."
At this point in the New Year, I'm a bit skeptical about 2010 being an uber-successful, Fun year. You know I'm not a half-full-glass kind of gal, but even I am a bit frightened by my latest skepticism. Oh, I'm sure you could blame my winter malaise on the recession or the weather -- like all the pundits are doing when anything irregular occurs these days -- but my experience with cynicism leads me to believe there is something more at work here. As Kelly Ripa noted in her morning show yesterday (see how ridiculous things are? quoting Kelly Ripa? on my blog? That's a new low even for me!), the air time and constant press that Captain Sully Sullenberger has received for saving 134 lives from perishing in the Hudson River because of BIRDS (come on people, this is 2010, and we are still so easily conquered by a Flock of Seagulls -- which, anecdotally, I did see in concert when I was in college; they opened for the GoGo's ... sad, but true).
Where was I? Oh yeah, Sully Sullenberger. Well, Kelly thinks Sully has been so popular and lasted so long on the airwaves because he's about the only bright spot of news that happened in 2009 (aside from Obama's election, of course, which I'm sure just momentarily escaped her thoughts).
No dim bulb, that Kelly; she may be right on the money with this one. Can anyone think of another bright spot with national and/or international news status that happened in 2009? And, no, even I don't consider the Nobel Peace Prize all that bright.
Maybe it's just that 2009 was a year for Create-Your-Own Bright Spots. For me, there was the Marathon. That was certainly bright. Surprising my brother upon his return home from Africa was also way up there. My youngest child turned 10 and Bill and I celebrated 20 years of marriage (I read something today that women with partners gain more weight than women without partners... That's fun). 2009/2010 New Year's Eve celebration was one to remember, but not sure if that counts for last year or this year? Most of the fun happened before midnight, so I'll gladly count it for last year (though, like most 2009 events, even that was tinged by sadness of friends not able to join us due to their close friend's passing ... See? Happy, but Sad still.)
I'm a bit challenged to come up with more, however. There were just so many Big Downers in 2009 that quickly come to mind .... Ted Kennedy's death, The Recession, friends -- everyone -- losing jobs, close friends and family dying and/or getting sick. And it was on the news every night and every day. (I think I have to stop watching the news ... which, by the way, is a lot easier now that Diane Sawyer has replaced Charles Gibson. I may have to switch to Katie Couric, ugghh.) Lots of things sucked about 2009.
Hopefully 2010 will have more bright spots. As it is, less than a week in to the New Year, friends are being re-hired, and ... well, I'm sure there will be some more bright spots. We just have to Find Them. Maybe that's the lesson of 2009, and of (dare I say it) middle age.
For the longest time, happiness seemed to take care of itself. Sure there were peaks and valleys, but rebounding seemed easier, less complicated. Like Winter. When was the last time you heard of hundreds of people being stranded for hours in places like London and China? This year, winter is much colder, and seems like it will never end -- and I don't even live in a place where it's been snowing every day for a week. What's with this Global Warming ... if the world's getting hotter, why are winters getting longer and colder? Maybe Kelly Ripa will have an answer to that question tomorrow.
Maybe Middle Age is like a long winter. As our kids and our parents get older, life inevitably gets more complicated (my father said, I'm pretty sure not originally, "Little kids, little issues, Big kids, big issues). The highs are high (weddings, new babies -- Congrats to my nephew Denis and his wife, Sara on their new Baby Emma) and the lows looowwww. Takes a bit to rebound, which is hard to do when you can't walk outside without falling on the ice.
While rebounding, though, a good diversion appears in Slate.com's "Explainer's Question of the Year" for 2009: If a Siamese Twin commits murder, does his brother get punished, too? (Warning: Don't do what I did, and assume the twin murdered His own siamese twin brother.) Click on the question to find the answer, even if it isn't a very good one (Hint: unlikely that the non-murderer twin can completely escape culpability).
Before I go, in order to leave on an Upbeat note, I just finished reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett. I loved it and highly recommend it. While it wasn't the most beautifully written book I have ever read, I really enjoyed the story, which was unique and compelling, without involving blood, guts, or torture. A bit slow at the start, but impossible to put down for the second half. Made me want to read more, which is a good place to start the New Year.
And, by the way, did I tell you that I'm hungry All Of The Time? Ever since that crazy marathon experience, my body has been craving carbs like never before. Well ... maybe like when I was pregnant and ate endless boxes of Devil Dogs (Julia) and Steak and Cheese Subs from the North End (William). Ah, those were the days. If I look back at those weight gains, and where I am now, I seriously am 6 months pregnant. Seriously, this is Ridiculous. Especially because I'm not having anywhere near the fun I was then actually eating as many Devil Dogs and subs as I wanted. When I was in high school and college, I remember swearing aloud to anyone who would listen that I would NEVER be over a certain weight when I got older. Well, add it to the list of "I would NEVER."
At this point in the New Year, I'm a bit skeptical about 2010 being an uber-successful, Fun year. You know I'm not a half-full-glass kind of gal, but even I am a bit frightened by my latest skepticism. Oh, I'm sure you could blame my winter malaise on the recession or the weather -- like all the pundits are doing when anything irregular occurs these days -- but my experience with cynicism leads me to believe there is something more at work here. As Kelly Ripa noted in her morning show yesterday (see how ridiculous things are? quoting Kelly Ripa? on my blog? That's a new low even for me!), the air time and constant press that Captain Sully Sullenberger has received for saving 134 lives from perishing in the Hudson River because of BIRDS (come on people, this is 2010, and we are still so easily conquered by a Flock of Seagulls -- which, anecdotally, I did see in concert when I was in college; they opened for the GoGo's ... sad, but true).
Where was I? Oh yeah, Sully Sullenberger. Well, Kelly thinks Sully has been so popular and lasted so long on the airwaves because he's about the only bright spot of news that happened in 2009 (aside from Obama's election, of course, which I'm sure just momentarily escaped her thoughts).
No dim bulb, that Kelly; she may be right on the money with this one. Can anyone think of another bright spot with national and/or international news status that happened in 2009? And, no, even I don't consider the Nobel Peace Prize all that bright.
Maybe it's just that 2009 was a year for Create-Your-Own Bright Spots. For me, there was the Marathon. That was certainly bright. Surprising my brother upon his return home from Africa was also way up there. My youngest child turned 10 and Bill and I celebrated 20 years of marriage (I read something today that women with partners gain more weight than women without partners... That's fun). 2009/2010 New Year's Eve celebration was one to remember, but not sure if that counts for last year or this year? Most of the fun happened before midnight, so I'll gladly count it for last year (though, like most 2009 events, even that was tinged by sadness of friends not able to join us due to their close friend's passing ... See? Happy, but Sad still.)
I'm a bit challenged to come up with more, however. There were just so many Big Downers in 2009 that quickly come to mind .... Ted Kennedy's death, The Recession, friends -- everyone -- losing jobs, close friends and family dying and/or getting sick. And it was on the news every night and every day. (I think I have to stop watching the news ... which, by the way, is a lot easier now that Diane Sawyer has replaced Charles Gibson. I may have to switch to Katie Couric, ugghh.) Lots of things sucked about 2009.
Hopefully 2010 will have more bright spots. As it is, less than a week in to the New Year, friends are being re-hired, and ... well, I'm sure there will be some more bright spots. We just have to Find Them. Maybe that's the lesson of 2009, and of (dare I say it) middle age.
For the longest time, happiness seemed to take care of itself. Sure there were peaks and valleys, but rebounding seemed easier, less complicated. Like Winter. When was the last time you heard of hundreds of people being stranded for hours in places like London and China? This year, winter is much colder, and seems like it will never end -- and I don't even live in a place where it's been snowing every day for a week. What's with this Global Warming ... if the world's getting hotter, why are winters getting longer and colder? Maybe Kelly Ripa will have an answer to that question tomorrow.
Maybe Middle Age is like a long winter. As our kids and our parents get older, life inevitably gets more complicated (my father said, I'm pretty sure not originally, "Little kids, little issues, Big kids, big issues). The highs are high (weddings, new babies -- Congrats to my nephew Denis and his wife, Sara on their new Baby Emma) and the lows looowwww. Takes a bit to rebound, which is hard to do when you can't walk outside without falling on the ice.
While rebounding, though, a good diversion appears in Slate.com's "Explainer's Question of the Year" for 2009: If a Siamese Twin commits murder, does his brother get punished, too? (Warning: Don't do what I did, and assume the twin murdered His own siamese twin brother.) Click on the question to find the answer, even if it isn't a very good one (Hint: unlikely that the non-murderer twin can completely escape culpability).
Before I go, in order to leave on an Upbeat note, I just finished reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett. I loved it and highly recommend it. While it wasn't the most beautifully written book I have ever read, I really enjoyed the story, which was unique and compelling, without involving blood, guts, or torture. A bit slow at the start, but impossible to put down for the second half. Made me want to read more, which is a good place to start the New Year.
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