It' been a while since I've blogged, but you can thank two things for that -- my job, where I now have to work Saturdays through April 15 (it's really not so bad -- we get free lunch and breakfast and we can wear jeans, and since I like the people I work with, I can deal with it). The other thing to blame is the book Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand. I have been hearing about this book for a while, so I decided to see what it is all about. It is really a brilliant piece of literature -- Ayn Rand is another George Orwell as far as her political prophetic abilities go. But it is, count 'em, 1168 pages long. And since I borrowed it from the library (I had to have it transferred from another library in the system -- Fairport Library sucks, there is nothing in it), and I recently found out that I can't renew it, I am going to share some of the passages which struck me in the 459 pages I actually got through before I have to return it tomorrow. If you think this doesn't describe what is going on in Congress with this stimulus bill; if you can't see the parallels, and if you can't see what is going to happen to this country through the eyes of Ayn Rand, then you are a moron.
Putting down capitalism
"I'm not so sure it was great -- building that [railroad] line for all those prosperous industrialists in Colorado, when there are so many poor people in blighted areas who need transportation."
"But Mr. Taggart, it was you who fought to build that Line."
"Yes, because it was my duty -- to the company and the stockholders and our employees. But don't expect me to enjoy it. I'm not so sure it was great -- inventing this complex new Metal, when so many nations are in need of plain iron -- why, do you know that the People's State of China hasn't even got enough nails to put wooden roofs over people's heads?"
"But . . . but I don't see that that's your fault."
"Somebody should attend to it. Somebody with the vision to see beyond his own pocketbook. No sensitive person these days -- when there's so much suffering around us -- would devote ten years of his life to splashing about with a lot of trick metals. You think it's great? Well, it's not any kind of superior ability, but just a hide that you couldn't pierce if you poured a ton of his own steel over his head! There are many people of much greater ability in the world, but you don't read about them in the headlines and you don't run to gape at them at grade crossings -- because they can't invent non-collapsible bridges at a time when the suffering of mankind weighs on their spirit!" (You see, this is how we're supposed to think of entrepreneurs)
Here's the economic stimulus bill, aka the limits on capitalism
The Union of Locomotive Engineers was demanding that the maximum speed of all trains on the John Galt Line be reduced to sixty miles an hour. The Union of Railway Conductors and Brakemen was demanding that the length of all freight trains on the John Galt Line be reduced to sixty cars. (The John Galt Line was the most innovative and successful line in the country -- oh, and it was brand new)
The states of Wyoming, New Mexico, Utah and Arizona were demanding that the number of trains run in Colorado [where all of the successful entrepreneurs were going] not exceed the number of trains run in each of these neighboring states.
A group headed by Orren Boyle was demanding the passage of a Preservation of Livelihood Law, which would limit the production of Rearden Metal to an amount equal to the output of any other steel mill of equal plant capacity. (Do you not see the irony? How does limiting production preserve livelihood?)
A group headed by Mr. Mowen was demanding the passage of a Fair Share Law to give every customer who wanted it an equal supply of Rearden Metal. (Or how about making sure they have a house they can't afford to pay for?)
A group headed by Bertram Scudder was demanding the passage of a Public Stability Law, forbidding Eastern business firms to move out of their states. (Did you know that if you move out of New Jersey, you have to pay a tax to do so -- and it ain't a small one, either)
Wesley Mouch, Top Co-ordinator of the Bureau of Economic Planning and Natural Resources, was issuing a great many statements, the content and purpose of which could not be defined (italics added), except that the words "emergency powers" and "unbalanced economy" kept appearing in the text every few lines.
In answer to this, the head of the railroad, who hated himself, hated the railroad and hated his life, responds to the question "What's going to happen if we reduce the speed and the length of the trains?" "Well, there's something to be said for the unions' viewpoint, too. With so many railroads closing and so many railroad men out of work, they feel that those extra speeds you've established on the Rio NorteLine are unfair -- they feel that there should be more trains, instead, so that the work would be divided around -- they feel that it's not fair for us to get the all the benefit of that new rail, they want a share of it too." To which his sister Dagny responds "Who wants a share of it? In payment for what?" (Good question, Dagny. It wasn't the unions who made the railroad successful, who saw the innovation to make it work better -- it was you, and they want to take it all away from you)
This is a poor woman speaking. My brothers and I lived on a different plane. OUr aim was not to produce gadgets, but to do good. We brought a great, new plan into the factory. It was eleven years ago. We were defeated by the greed, the selfishness and the base, animal nature of men. It was the eternal conflict between spirit and matter, between soul and body. They would not renounce their bodies, which was all we asked of them. . . . They deserted us, one after another . . . Our plan? We put into practice that noble historical precept: From each according to his ability, to each according to his need. Everybody in the factory, from charwomen to president, received the same salary -- the barest minimum necessary. Twice a year, we all gathered in a mass meeting, where every person presented his claim for what he believed to be his needs. We voted on every claim, and the will of the majority established every person's need and every person's ability. The income of the factory was distributed accordingly. Rewards were based on need, and penalties on ability. Those whose needs were voted to be the greatest, received the most. Those who had not produced as much as the vote said they could, were fined and had to pay the fines by working overtime without pay. That was our plan. It was based on the principle of selflessness. It required men to be motivated, not by personal gain, but by love for their brothers. (Italics added) (The factory, of course, had been closed long ago -- people can't open businesses for the sole purpose of making sure people have jobs and enough money to live on. This is a microcosm of socialism -- and if you don't see that, again, then you are a moron.
This is perhaps the most striking passage of all.
"But after all, I did break one of your laws" (He actually allowed someone to buy more metal than he was allowed by law to sell -- which was a ridiculous law in the first place, of course)
"Well, what do you think they're there for?" . . . Did you really think that we want those laws to be observed?" said Dr. Ferris [a scientific bureaucrat]. We want them broken. You'd better get it straight that it's not a bunch of boy scouts you're up against -- then you'll know that this is not the age for beautiful gestures. We're after power and we mean it. You fellows [the entrepreneurs] were pikers, but we know the real trick, and you'd better get wise to it. There's no way to rule innocent men. The only power any government has is to crack down on criminals. When there aren't enough criminals, one makes them. One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to live without breaking laws. Who wants a nation of law-abiding citizens? What's there in that for anyone? But just pass the kind of laws that can neither be observed no enforced nor objectively interpreted -- and you create a nation of law breakers -- and then you cash in on guilt."
And about the innovative Rearden Metal, used to build the railroad:
"Did you want to see it used by whining rotters who never rouse themselves to any effort, who do not possess the ability of a filing clerk, but demand the income of a company president, who drift from failure to failure and expect you to pay their bills, who hold their wishing as an equivalent of your work and their need as a higher claim to reward than your effort, who demand that you serve them, who demand that it be the aim of your life to serve them, who demand that your strength be the voiceless, rightless, unpaid, unrewarded slave of their impotence, who proclaim that you are born to serfdom by reason of your genius, while they are born to rule by the grace of incompetence, that yours is only to give, but theirs only to tak, that yours is to produce, but theirs to consume, that you are not to be paid, neither in matter nor in spirit, neither by wealth nor by recognition nor by respect nor by gratitude -- so that they would ride on your rail and sneer at you and curse you, since they owe you nothing, not even the effort of taking off their hats which you paid for? Would this be what you wanted? Would you feel proud of it?"
"I'd blast that rail first," said Rearden, his lips white.
Well, that's enough for me to write, but it's not nearly enough for the world to learn its mistakes. I think we will have to live in the world Ayn Rand creates in this book before we wise up.
By the way, Ayn Rand lived in (and escaped) from the Soviet Union.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
British Invasion
So what is the deal with all of the English people invading our shores, telling us how to live our lives? First we had the Naked Chef with his terrible lisp, creating all kinds of nasty English food. Then we get those Nanny 911 and Supernanny babes telling us how to raise our kids. Then there's the two ladies who went around telling people that their houses were filthy (the houses were filthy, but that's not the point). One of the new shows on HGTV "The Unsellables" features some English chick named Sophie telling people how to get their house sold -- we have Americans who do that! Granted, she's a lot better looking than the other Brits I've seen, but still . . . and she's not nearly as witty as Clive Pearse.
But what has really gotten my knickers in a twist is a new show about two women who tell people how to dress! What do we need these chicks for? We already have Stacey and Clinton! I mean, if you don't get how to dress after watching S & C, then you're just not trying! WE LOVE STACEY AND CLINTON -- WE DON'T WANT ANYONE ELSE!!
And why are we, in America, suddenly calling our apartments flats? That's the English term! Pretty soon we'll be taking lifts instead of elevators and putting our spare tires in the boot instead of the trunk. And we'll be going to the loo (I never did figure out the origin of that one).
Tara says our culture thinks that Brits are smarter than we are because they sound so smart when they talk. Well, if they're so smart, why the heck do they still have nationalized health care? They're not smart enough to figure out that it's still not working!
Tomorrow I expect we'll start driving on the left side of the road . . .
But what has really gotten my knickers in a twist is a new show about two women who tell people how to dress! What do we need these chicks for? We already have Stacey and Clinton! I mean, if you don't get how to dress after watching S & C, then you're just not trying! WE LOVE STACEY AND CLINTON -- WE DON'T WANT ANYONE ELSE!!
And why are we, in America, suddenly calling our apartments flats? That's the English term! Pretty soon we'll be taking lifts instead of elevators and putting our spare tires in the boot instead of the trunk. And we'll be going to the loo (I never did figure out the origin of that one).
Tara says our culture thinks that Brits are smarter than we are because they sound so smart when they talk. Well, if they're so smart, why the heck do they still have nationalized health care? They're not smart enough to figure out that it's still not working!
Tomorrow I expect we'll start driving on the left side of the road . . .
Thursday, January 22, 2009
A disclaimer
Just a note about the previous blogs -- I don't know what is going on with the time stamp, but I have not been posting these blogs at 4:00 or 3:00 or even 5:00 p.m.! I'm at work at those times! I work on my blog at home! So I'm going to have to figure out what the heck is going on. Anyway, that's just my little disclaimer!
Gotta do this before I pull my hair out . . .
So last night I was reading the TV Guide. Besides my church magazine, it's the only magazine I subscribe to, and only because the subscription was a completely free two year deal. It's a rag, a real gossip sheet. I mean, I read this thing and I'm thinking "Who are these people?" Everyone is from this reality show or that reality show, and the only reality shows I know anything about are the ones they show on "The Soup" . . . and even then, I hear about shows I never heard of. So, basically, I don't know who these people are, and I don't know why they're famous. They are only useful to me when they come up as clues in the TV Guide crossword.
Now mind you, except for the TV Guide, I don't subject myself to these people -- I don't voluntarily choose to inflict them upon myself. But between the TVG and the supermarket tabloids, I can honestly say there are a lot of people out there I am JUST PLAIN SICK OF! I mean, every time I go to the store, it's like being an atheist during Christmas time! You're bombarded with images you just don't care about! Picture after picture of the same people, all of whom I could not care less about! People who have no impact on my life! People who do nothing with their lives except preach to the rest of us little people! These people aren't inspiring, they're just egomaniacs! And you can turn away, but they're all over the place -- you just can't get away from it! So, at the grocery store, I try to concentrate on the food magazines instead -- definitely worth my time, but they do make me hungry. . .
So here is my list:
Barack Obama - 24/7 news coverage for 2 years, plus an entire rack of over 25 magazines at Wegmans of just Obama magazines -- not just Obama on the cover, actual entire magazines about Obama!! How much can you write about one person! Incidentally, his face was plastered on the TVG for next week's issue! I mean, I could understand if it was the issue for the week of the inauguration, but it's for next week. He's the president -- not a celebrity -- not God!
Oprah - another person who thinks she is the savior of the world I am sooooo, soooo sick of Oprah. I can't believe anyone would care about how much she weighs. I can't believe she thinks we care. Unfortunately, there are a lot of bubble heads out there with no purpose for their lives who do care. And she just loves that!
Julianne Hough -- I've been sick of her for a long time. For a while, she was on every page of the freakin' TV Guide. Come to think of it, I'm also sick of her friends Taylor Swift and Kellie Pickler. I am sick of turning on the radio and hearing Taylor Swift on all three country stations! She's the Tim McGraw of 2008 -- you can't get away from her. Thank heaven for iPods.
Beyonce -- It's been years and years of being sick of her.
Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie and the whole Brangelina gang -- self-explanatory.
Teri Hatcher -- "Skeletal" is the word that comes to mind when I see Teri Hatcher. Sorry, she's just not that great looking, and she's a horrible actress (the female version of Tom Cruise). She is so not worth the fuss.
The entire cast of The Hills -- I've never seen an episode, don't even know their names, but I'm still sick of them.
I used to be sick of Nicole Ritchie, but she redeemed herself by having an extremely adorable baby (don't ask me how that happened), so she is temporarily off the list.
Then there are the people I will never get sick of:
George Strait -- The Sexiest Man Alive, in my magazine. What makes him so sexy is that he is faithful to his wife -- and there is nothing sexier than that. There will be pictures of George Strait above my bed in that nursing home my daughter keeps threatening to send me to.
Steve Martin -- It's not possible to get sick of Steve. He's never the same guy twice! The new Pink Panther commercials where he is trying to say "hamburger" reduce me to tears of laughter.
Guy Fieri -- Oh my gosh, I just have to get on that Ultimate Recipe Showdown just so I can meet Guy. And possibly win $10,000, of course.
And I will never get sick of Tuck, my car. I know, technically he's not a person, but we belong together.
Now mind you, except for the TV Guide, I don't subject myself to these people -- I don't voluntarily choose to inflict them upon myself. But between the TVG and the supermarket tabloids, I can honestly say there are a lot of people out there I am JUST PLAIN SICK OF! I mean, every time I go to the store, it's like being an atheist during Christmas time! You're bombarded with images you just don't care about! Picture after picture of the same people, all of whom I could not care less about! People who have no impact on my life! People who do nothing with their lives except preach to the rest of us little people! These people aren't inspiring, they're just egomaniacs! And you can turn away, but they're all over the place -- you just can't get away from it! So, at the grocery store, I try to concentrate on the food magazines instead -- definitely worth my time, but they do make me hungry. . .
So here is my list:
Barack Obama - 24/7 news coverage for 2 years, plus an entire rack of over 25 magazines at Wegmans of just Obama magazines -- not just Obama on the cover, actual entire magazines about Obama!! How much can you write about one person! Incidentally, his face was plastered on the TVG for next week's issue! I mean, I could understand if it was the issue for the week of the inauguration, but it's for next week. He's the president -- not a celebrity -- not God!
Oprah - another person who thinks she is the savior of the world I am sooooo, soooo sick of Oprah. I can't believe anyone would care about how much she weighs. I can't believe she thinks we care. Unfortunately, there are a lot of bubble heads out there with no purpose for their lives who do care. And she just loves that!
Julianne Hough -- I've been sick of her for a long time. For a while, she was on every page of the freakin' TV Guide. Come to think of it, I'm also sick of her friends Taylor Swift and Kellie Pickler. I am sick of turning on the radio and hearing Taylor Swift on all three country stations! She's the Tim McGraw of 2008 -- you can't get away from her. Thank heaven for iPods.
Beyonce -- It's been years and years of being sick of her.
Brad Pitt/Angelina Jolie and the whole Brangelina gang -- self-explanatory.
Teri Hatcher -- "Skeletal" is the word that comes to mind when I see Teri Hatcher. Sorry, she's just not that great looking, and she's a horrible actress (the female version of Tom Cruise). She is so not worth the fuss.
The entire cast of The Hills -- I've never seen an episode, don't even know their names, but I'm still sick of them.
I used to be sick of Nicole Ritchie, but she redeemed herself by having an extremely adorable baby (don't ask me how that happened), so she is temporarily off the list.
Then there are the people I will never get sick of:
George Strait -- The Sexiest Man Alive, in my magazine. What makes him so sexy is that he is faithful to his wife -- and there is nothing sexier than that. There will be pictures of George Strait above my bed in that nursing home my daughter keeps threatening to send me to.
Steve Martin -- It's not possible to get sick of Steve. He's never the same guy twice! The new Pink Panther commercials where he is trying to say "hamburger" reduce me to tears of laughter.
Guy Fieri -- Oh my gosh, I just have to get on that Ultimate Recipe Showdown just so I can meet Guy. And possibly win $10,000, of course.
And I will never get sick of Tuck, my car. I know, technically he's not a person, but we belong together.
Monday, January 19, 2009
The Great Chocolate Bet
Why won't men admit they love chocolate? We women proudly admit, even brag about our chocolate addiction. Yes, there are some out there who don't like chocolate, and I'm sure there's a special place in heaven for them. When I get there (actually, that should be "if I get there") I, however, will choose to consort with those who will take their chance on messing up the nearest cloud with fingers covered in melted Ghirardelli squares. And if there's no chocolate in heaven at all, forget it, I won't go. Same goes for Fluffernutters. Philly cream cheese just ain't gonna do it!
My husband knows I have a chocolate stash, and he knows he can get chocolate there, but only with my permission -- and even then I only dole out chocolate of my choosing. Think that's mean? Hey, nobody's stopping him from having his own stash!
My boss, Steven, who, I will say at the outset, is one of the nicest guys in the world, is addicted to chocolate in the worst way. He will go to Robin's cubicle and help himself many times a day(which is fine, because she puts it out for everyone), and one time he saw me pulling some out of my stash at work (yes, I have two stashes) and hovered around, denying that he wanted any even though I offered it. One time Leeh (pronounced Lee) filled her bowl, then left the office for the weekend. When she came back on Monday, there were six pieces left. When she asked Steve why he didn't just finish it up (notice she knew exactly who to ask), he said "Well, I didn't want to eat all of it!" So it is a never ending battle.
Steven, who is not unlike an absent minded professor at times, also has a problem with taking pads out of the conference room. As the receptionist, it's my responsibility to make sure there are two pads and two pens in the conference rooms at all times, and it's not exactly rocket science, so I try to do this. The problem occurs when someone goes into the conference room with a client directly after Steven has been there. Those pads are gone. Bellows of "STEVEN!" have been heard as a result. They know. They all know.
As a big believer in consequences, I decided that in order to keep the pads in the conference rooms, I would tell Steven that he could not have any of the chocolate in the office until he learned to keep the pads in the rooms. Now, we were outside the staff accountant's office when this happened. Steven said, when confronted "I don't have a problem with chocolate!!" Patty, the staff accountant burst out with "Oh Steven, I've been dealing with your chocolate addiction for years -- don't tell me you don't have a problem!" An argument commenced, and at that moment the phone rang, so I had to run and answer it. But I had made my point.
About an hour later, I saw an entry on Steven's calendar on Outlook. It said "SJG (that's Steven) bet Patty $300 that he would not eat chocolate for 6 months. If he wins, Patty pays him $30." I could hardly believe it -- this was a win-win situation for Patty! 10 to 1 odds! But I asked Patty, and it was true. Well, I wanted in on this action! So I bugged Steven, and he finally came back with a solution -- if I put in $10, he would pay out $100 if he lost! I took that bet!
Then, on the way home, I started thinking -- hey I'm a nice little Mormon girl (the nice, little, and girl parts all being used loosely) -- I'm not supposed to be making bets! I immediately felt ashamed and decided I would call off the bet, but then I decided that I would use the money I won (and I am going to win it) and give the whole $100 to charity. I'd like to give it to the Heritage Foundation, since Steve is kind of a liberal (he offered me the chance to take Inauguration Day off (the Immaculate Inauguration) if I went to an inauguration celebration that night, and of course, I said no way -- I have my principles!), but I decided instead that I would either give it to the Marine Corps Scholarship Fund or the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.
Steven didn't come in the office today, and I hope he is honoring his side of the deal. I think we're going to have to call his wife and make sure she keeps him on the straight and narrow. This week we're going to print out some pictures of him, put those big red circles with the line going through it, a la Ghostbusters, on the picture, then hang it around all of the candy bowls in the office. As you can see, having a devious mind can come in very handy.
This is gonna be fun!!!!!!!
My husband knows I have a chocolate stash, and he knows he can get chocolate there, but only with my permission -- and even then I only dole out chocolate of my choosing. Think that's mean? Hey, nobody's stopping him from having his own stash!
My boss, Steven, who, I will say at the outset, is one of the nicest guys in the world, is addicted to chocolate in the worst way. He will go to Robin's cubicle and help himself many times a day(which is fine, because she puts it out for everyone), and one time he saw me pulling some out of my stash at work (yes, I have two stashes) and hovered around, denying that he wanted any even though I offered it. One time Leeh (pronounced Lee) filled her bowl, then left the office for the weekend. When she came back on Monday, there were six pieces left. When she asked Steve why he didn't just finish it up (notice she knew exactly who to ask), he said "Well, I didn't want to eat all of it!" So it is a never ending battle.
Steven, who is not unlike an absent minded professor at times, also has a problem with taking pads out of the conference room. As the receptionist, it's my responsibility to make sure there are two pads and two pens in the conference rooms at all times, and it's not exactly rocket science, so I try to do this. The problem occurs when someone goes into the conference room with a client directly after Steven has been there. Those pads are gone. Bellows of "STEVEN!" have been heard as a result. They know. They all know.
As a big believer in consequences, I decided that in order to keep the pads in the conference rooms, I would tell Steven that he could not have any of the chocolate in the office until he learned to keep the pads in the rooms. Now, we were outside the staff accountant's office when this happened. Steven said, when confronted "I don't have a problem with chocolate!!" Patty, the staff accountant burst out with "Oh Steven, I've been dealing with your chocolate addiction for years -- don't tell me you don't have a problem!" An argument commenced, and at that moment the phone rang, so I had to run and answer it. But I had made my point.
About an hour later, I saw an entry on Steven's calendar on Outlook. It said "SJG (that's Steven) bet Patty $300 that he would not eat chocolate for 6 months. If he wins, Patty pays him $30." I could hardly believe it -- this was a win-win situation for Patty! 10 to 1 odds! But I asked Patty, and it was true. Well, I wanted in on this action! So I bugged Steven, and he finally came back with a solution -- if I put in $10, he would pay out $100 if he lost! I took that bet!
Then, on the way home, I started thinking -- hey I'm a nice little Mormon girl (the nice, little, and girl parts all being used loosely) -- I'm not supposed to be making bets! I immediately felt ashamed and decided I would call off the bet, but then I decided that I would use the money I won (and I am going to win it) and give the whole $100 to charity. I'd like to give it to the Heritage Foundation, since Steve is kind of a liberal (he offered me the chance to take Inauguration Day off (the Immaculate Inauguration) if I went to an inauguration celebration that night, and of course, I said no way -- I have my principles!), but I decided instead that I would either give it to the Marine Corps Scholarship Fund or the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.
Steven didn't come in the office today, and I hope he is honoring his side of the deal. I think we're going to have to call his wife and make sure she keeps him on the straight and narrow. This week we're going to print out some pictures of him, put those big red circles with the line going through it, a la Ghostbusters, on the picture, then hang it around all of the candy bowls in the office. As you can see, having a devious mind can come in very handy.
This is gonna be fun!!!!!!!
Friday, January 16, 2009
The Singing Chef Speaks!
First of all, why the Singing Chef? Well, I like to sing, though I'll never become an American Idol (I'm too old, anyway), and I like to cook, so it's just a combination of the two -- it's no more complicated than that! I'm pretty complicated, though! Anyone who knows me will tell you that!
I don't particularly enjoy writing -- I can have a great thought in my head, but it seems I can't get the words to come out of my head, down my arm and onto the paper (or keyboard, in this case) and have it come out the way I thought it was going to! Even short e-mails become projects with me -- I keep rearranging words, paragraphs, etc. My daughter (www.tarablogs.blogspot.com) has a talent for writing, but she didn't get it from me -- she got it from my sisters -- there's just no doubt in my mind about that. However, I'm a real stickler for punctuation and grammar (though I'm sure I make a few mistakes in that area), so this won't be in the usual blog form (small i, etc), which freaks my daughter out whenever we chat online.
I know the blogging thing is really popular right now, but I resisted for many reasons, not the least of which is my tendency to not enjoy writing. Also, I thought "Who in the world would take the time to hear about my life? I can't imagine I'm that interesting!" But, (there's one of those grammar mistakes) while reading my daughter's blog, I realized that all it takes to do a blog is to write random thoughts -- and I have lots of those! And I do think some of them are funny, and I think I come up with things that other people don't think about!! Hey, a blog is a way to express those random thoughts! But you bloggers already knew that! The other reason is that I should be keeping a journal, and I don't, so this is a way of meeting that goal. So I guess it's up to you to decide if I'm interesting or not!
I hope I can be entertaining. Apparently, I do have some potential for this, as I always get positive feedback about our family Christmas letters that get sent out every year (sorry, we missed this year's letter -- hey, I didn't get to a lot of things this Christmas, so get off my back!) because those can be real yawners if you're not careful. So maybe I can transfer those abilities to this form of writing.
So I'll start with a random thought for the day. Actually, it's a rant. To Tom Hanks. Whom I know the rest of the world adores. But I don't. As a matter of fact, if you keep reading this blog, you'll find out about all of the liberal Hollywood lefties I have no use for. Because (and lately, this is my motto -- I have a lot of those too, just like Dave Barry), I am not an idiot. I don't follow popular culture like a blind fool. I don't like someone just because the media thinks he's cool. I have my standards, I have a strong sense of right and wrong, and I just don't get taken in very easily. In case you haven't noticed by now, I'm opinionated. And I like it that way. It's easy to be opinionated when you know what you know is right. And I don't make my mind up until I know I'm right. And then, it's pretty hard to sway me.
Tom Hanks says that Mormons are un-American because we don't support Proposition 8. Hey Tom, you make tons of money through your exploitation of Mormons from the show you produce, BIG LOVE (I have never watched an episode, by the way). It's no different than the stores that have "Holiday" sales and won't allow the words "Merry Christmas" to cross their employees lips to the customers -- customers you wouldn't have if it weren't for Christmas! Money you wouldn't be making if it weren't for the "C" word! So Tom, it's okay to make money off of us, use us when you need us, make fun of us with your stupid TV show, but don't even try to respect our beliefs. Hey Tom, guess what? Mormons go to see your movies. Mormons pay to see your movies. Mormons spend money on your DVDs.
Well, maybe it's time for Mormons to stop giving you money. There are two Mormons in this household who will never pay money for one of your movies again, and I hope my Mormon friends and those who support us do the same. I know it won't make a dent in your pocket, but standing by my principles is what makes me a happy gal. And you make it so easy, Tom.
I hope my next post will be shorter. I also have to look into putting pictures on this blog and all that stuff . . . Crap. What kind of project have I let myself in for?
Next post -- an update on "the chocolate bet" -- this is gonna be fun!
I don't particularly enjoy writing -- I can have a great thought in my head, but it seems I can't get the words to come out of my head, down my arm and onto the paper (or keyboard, in this case) and have it come out the way I thought it was going to! Even short e-mails become projects with me -- I keep rearranging words, paragraphs, etc. My daughter (www.tarablogs.blogspot.com) has a talent for writing, but she didn't get it from me -- she got it from my sisters -- there's just no doubt in my mind about that. However, I'm a real stickler for punctuation and grammar (though I'm sure I make a few mistakes in that area), so this won't be in the usual blog form (small i, etc), which freaks my daughter out whenever we chat online.
I know the blogging thing is really popular right now, but I resisted for many reasons, not the least of which is my tendency to not enjoy writing. Also, I thought "Who in the world would take the time to hear about my life? I can't imagine I'm that interesting!" But, (there's one of those grammar mistakes) while reading my daughter's blog, I realized that all it takes to do a blog is to write random thoughts -- and I have lots of those! And I do think some of them are funny, and I think I come up with things that other people don't think about!! Hey, a blog is a way to express those random thoughts! But you bloggers already knew that! The other reason is that I should be keeping a journal, and I don't, so this is a way of meeting that goal. So I guess it's up to you to decide if I'm interesting or not!
I hope I can be entertaining. Apparently, I do have some potential for this, as I always get positive feedback about our family Christmas letters that get sent out every year (sorry, we missed this year's letter -- hey, I didn't get to a lot of things this Christmas, so get off my back!) because those can be real yawners if you're not careful. So maybe I can transfer those abilities to this form of writing.
So I'll start with a random thought for the day. Actually, it's a rant. To Tom Hanks. Whom I know the rest of the world adores. But I don't. As a matter of fact, if you keep reading this blog, you'll find out about all of the liberal Hollywood lefties I have no use for. Because (and lately, this is my motto -- I have a lot of those too, just like Dave Barry), I am not an idiot. I don't follow popular culture like a blind fool. I don't like someone just because the media thinks he's cool. I have my standards, I have a strong sense of right and wrong, and I just don't get taken in very easily. In case you haven't noticed by now, I'm opinionated. And I like it that way. It's easy to be opinionated when you know what you know is right. And I don't make my mind up until I know I'm right. And then, it's pretty hard to sway me.
Tom Hanks says that Mormons are un-American because we don't support Proposition 8. Hey Tom, you make tons of money through your exploitation of Mormons from the show you produce, BIG LOVE (I have never watched an episode, by the way). It's no different than the stores that have "Holiday" sales and won't allow the words "Merry Christmas" to cross their employees lips to the customers -- customers you wouldn't have if it weren't for Christmas! Money you wouldn't be making if it weren't for the "C" word! So Tom, it's okay to make money off of us, use us when you need us, make fun of us with your stupid TV show, but don't even try to respect our beliefs. Hey Tom, guess what? Mormons go to see your movies. Mormons pay to see your movies. Mormons spend money on your DVDs.
Well, maybe it's time for Mormons to stop giving you money. There are two Mormons in this household who will never pay money for one of your movies again, and I hope my Mormon friends and those who support us do the same. I know it won't make a dent in your pocket, but standing by my principles is what makes me a happy gal. And you make it so easy, Tom.
I hope my next post will be shorter. I also have to look into putting pictures on this blog and all that stuff . . . Crap. What kind of project have I let myself in for?
Next post -- an update on "the chocolate bet" -- this is gonna be fun!
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