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Showing posts from June, 2009

Clearing His Head...in Argentina

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For this Fatherhood Friday I choose to swing a little political. I'd like to bring up the unfortunate events surrounding Governor Mark Sanford. I have a different view than what's been expressed. It occurs to me that we should be staying out of his personal affairs. Since I defended Bubba Clinton in this manner, I felt it would be contradictory if I jumped on the bandwagon against Gov. Sanford simply because I don't share his political views. As long as he's responsible at his job...
What's that? He disappeared for five days misleading his handlers as to his whereabouts. He said he was meandering up and down the Appalachian Trail when in really he jetted down to South America? Well, you're right, that doesn't seem very responsible. I would imagine if some gubernatorial emergency were to arise it would be necessary to have the Chief Executive Officer of South Carolinaon speed dial, even if he did need some personal days to "clear his head."
But…

June is Bustin' OUT

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He believes marriage is between a man and a woman. He then openly opposed Proposition 8. He has made June Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Pride Month. And yet he doesn't seem to be any further along repealing the Defense of Marriage Act nor Don't Ask Don't Tell. I can't imagine the juggling our president is currently doing. To say he has a lot heaped on his plate is an understatement. However at some point, he's going to have be a leader in these issues, otherwise his mixed messages will be as confusing as this picture.
Great piece over at John and Steve are Having a Baby. It's gay pride. It's gay fathers and mothers. It's a lot of gay fun and yours truly wrote about some personal gay moments.
Happy Belated Gay Pride!

Cosmo the Killer

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Last Thursday was Maxie's birthday. I derive a sense of security from the day of my daughter's birth. Not only was she born on Father's Day, which becomes all the more significant when two fathers are involved, but she was also born on the same day as Isabella Rossellini, Carol Kane, Roger Ebert, Paul McCartney, E. G. Marshall, Jeanette MacDonald, William Randolph Hearst III, John D. Rockefeller IV and in the center square, Mr. Uday Hussein. You see, all these folks, along with my darling three year old were born on the Day of Financial Security. (Not that that helped Uday.)
My sister, a while back, gave me one of those birthday coffee table books that has never lived on my coffee table. It's called The Secret Language of Birthdays, and in it the reader is given insightful information about "personology profiles" for each day of our calender year. Now, I couldn't tell you the special name for the day on which I was born. Nor could I tell you anything about…

Mum's the Word

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So, I've been dithering. I've started three blog entries, none of which have come to fruition. They lie dormant, in a state of stasis, waiting for me to polish them up and place the final period. But lately when I'm not performing in benefits, pouring over almost incomprehensible legal documents, carpooling the kiddies, battling dragons and putting out their fires, I'm too tired to blog. Instead, I find myself watching Humphrey Bogart movies on TCM.
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This last weekend, I was part of a benefit performance for my dear friend Mari, who needs help with her medical expenses. She was diagnosed with cancer in April and has been going through hell to get healthy. Her situation is certainly part of the argument we are now facing regarding health care reform. She has insurance, however with the chemo and the hospital visits and the various medications getting pumped into her, her bills remain astronomical. There's this one shot she's taking that has an eighty doll…

Like a Stradivarius

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Last week, I assumed a conscientious, thoughtful wife demeanor. I entered the kitchen with purpose, but not to belittle nor cause defenses to arise. "Michael," I calmly started out, pleased with my nonthreatening tone, "We need to talk." He stopped what he was doing, looked me the eye, no computer screen, no iPhone in sight. All these years of programming have finally begun to pay off. "Yes," he said. His voice was strong, maybe a bit on the defensive, but able to listen. Good. "Look," I continued, "I have a slight suggestion. Now, I don't want you to respond right away. Let me say my piece and walk out of the room, think about it for a while, and we'll talk about it later." I came up with this system because neither one of us is good when cornered with a slight suggestion. And sometimes living with it, even for one day, takes the edge off. "I know how busy you are running the theatre. I am aware that theatre hours demand …

Bonnie Tyler Must be Crapping Her Pants