Who’s your horse?

Did y’all act like good little Americans and watch the debate last night? It was ridiculously overcrowded (seriously! Eight candidates and only 90 minutes?), but overall I found it to be interesting and in some cases enlightening.

Here’s how I would have ranked the candidates before the debate:

1. Edwards/Clinton (I’m having a really hard time picking between them)

3. Obama

4. Richardson

And the rest, in no particular order (mostly because I knew little about them):

Dodd

Kucinich

Biden

Gravel

Here are some of my observations about the candidates:

Richardson: Wow, he really tanked during the course of this debate. I have always liked Bill Richardson because I think he’s an amazing diplomat and generally a respectable statesman, but I thought it came off as really desperate and arrogant in this debate. It really REALLY bothered me that he kept going over on his time limit, in a couple of cases making it to where the other candidates couldn’t even answer the question. I thought his skirting of the Gonzales issue (he said he hadn’t called for his resignation because he was Hispanic) was poorly done, and none of his answers really impressed me that much

Dodd: Came off as being the most politicky of all the candidates (which is a tough act in this crowd!), and also had the most canned answers of all the participants. Good ideas on some counts, but overall I wasn’t impressed

Edwards: If anyone “won” the debate I would say it was him. He came off as smart, tough, charming, and honest. I thought he made some really good points with his “Two Americas” campaign, and the fact that trust needs to be brought back to the White House. He also had the best quote of the evening with: “We ought to ask Americans to be patriotic about something other than war.” YES!

Biden: Blown away by Biden. Without a doubt, he had the highest gain in my head from this debate. I knew almost nothing of him before the event, and he really impressed the hell out of me. I thought he came off as exceedingly capable, very trustworthy and dependable, and totally electable. I can’t remember what in particular he said that made me like him so much, but I was really satisfied after all of his answers.

Obama: Yeah, he’s great. Yeah he charming and full of hope and yadda yadda yadda. I just can’t get excited about Obama. He did well, I think, but didn’t do anything to raise my opinion of him.

Clinton: I think she did a terrific job and came off as being tougher than usual, which is remarkable. I love Hilary Clinton, really I do, but I can’t decided if she’s my candidate or not. This debate was somewhat odd, because sometimes she came off as wooden, and sometimes she came off as utterly human, like with the VA Tech answer. I trust her.

Kucinich: Yawn!

Gravel: You’re are nutbag! Definitely the Kooky old man in the corner over there (or what was it he said he felt like, the “potted plant?”). I love that he’s passionate, but honestly, politicians need to learn to control the passion. He made some good points, certainly, but I don’t think he did much for his campaign.

After the debate, here’s how I rank the candidates:

1. Edwards

2. Biden

3. Clinton

4. Obama

5. Dodd

6. Kucinich

7. Richardson

8. Gravel

Highest gain was obviously for Biden, who’ll I’ll be watching much more closely from now on. It’s still WAY to early for me to choose my candidate, and I think they all need to prove themselves further, but he really made me start thinking outside of the CLINTON/OBAMA/EDWARDS maelstrom. Sadly, I doubt we’ll have a candidate that isn’t one of those three, just because they have hijacked the spotlight.

Not that it is a bad thing, because I think all three of those candidates would make excellent presidents, but it just seems undemocratic to have it already laid out in front of us SO FAR before an election.

Y’all don’t be afraid to back one of the little guys. There is still time.

Now. If you watched the debate (or hell, even if you didn’t) tell me what you’re thinking. Did anyone impress you? Did anyone crash and burn for you? Who do you like? TALK TO ME!

A few things

I’m crazy busy at work this week, so forgive me for the lack of updates.

BUT!  I have 2 things today.

1.  An outstanding time waster!  Vote for Time Magazine’s 100 most influential people of the year!   Now I’m warning you, there are about 200 people on this list and it is really hard to stop voting, so be prepared to get fired from your jobs today.  As of writing this, #1 is Stephen Colbert (yaaaay!) and #204 is Paris Hilton (hahahah, you wretched skank!)

2.  Y’all!  There is life on another planet!!  Well, maybe.  Scientists have discovered a new planet in the Libra constellation that is the first “Earth-like” planet ever.  Mild temps, water, mayhap even a wee bit of life?  Could be.  I’m especially excited about this because I’m a Libra!  This is totally the planet of Tayloropolis.

GOOAAAAL!! (except that not really, unfortunately)

Reason # 9,008 that I have the best boyfriend in the world:

About 2 weeks ago I came home to find a big, important looking envelope in my mailbox from the Charleston Battery, our wonderful local minor league soccer team. I was surprised, because it seemed awfully official, and while I go to every game I can, I hardly had reason to expect anything of note from The Battery.

(Though I have to admit, I may have held a little hope in my heart that perhaps my favorite player, #4 Tim Karalexis, who is unspeakably hot and kinda looks like Michael Vartan, had finally realized and understood my unrequited love and was now sending hope in the form of a big, official envelope. Maybe.)

I opened it up and was surprised to find a big Charleston Battery magnet, about 400 schedules, a “guide for season ticket holders” (wait! WHAT?!) and a smaller, even more official envelope that held a ticket to every single home game. And OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT JUST LIKE THAT I was a season ticket holder. Because my boyfriend loves me. And sends me the most incredibly thoughtful, absolutely wonderful surprises in the mail. Ever. Y’all. For real. I have the greatest boyfriend in the history of boyfriends.

(I’ll give you all a moment to let your jealousy subside.)

…

…

…

All better now? Good. Anyway! Last night was the first game of the season, so my roommate Leezle and our favorite, most entertaining friend Mike all went out to watch some soccer, drink some beer, eat some hotdogs, and watch some fireworks and ogle the hot soccer players.

So I have for you a photo essay.

We drank some good beer:

And some not so good beer (because it was on special!) (I’m embarrassed)

And ate some stadium food:

And Leezle bought me a souvenir!

And I was a soccer hooligan:

But there was some wholesomeness, I swear! It’s not always debauchery with me, y’all!

We even did some surgery (because we wanted to know what the special foamy-making thing was inside of the yummy beer can):

With my teeth (this is a lie!):

We were pretty close to the action:

And I mean REALLY close:

Then after the game, we got to go on the field!

And touch hot soccer players! (though his hotness was somewhat diminished by the 5 young, tow-headed children running around him and calling him “Daddy!”

And then there were fireworks! Hurrah!

 

We really had a fabulous time, even though it was a nil-nil game so we couldn’t celebrate a win (but also! no loss!). If y’all live in Charleston, you should really come out to the games. It is always a wonderful time, even if you don’t like soccer (which Mike doesn’t! And he still had fun!) And hey, if you don’t have anyone to go with, you can come with me! Because I’ll be at all the games! (we sit by the bar, like true soccer fans) (but seriously, you should really come to the games with me) (seriously).

Lighten up.

Alright, y’all. Because I went all “intense” and “deep” and “crazy” yesterday, here’s a really funny joke that my roommate told me last week. You’re welcome.

A man walks into a bar (bet you didn’t see that one coming!).

He sits down at the bar and takes a tiny man and a tiny piano out of his briefcase. He sits the man down at the piano and the guy starts to play.

The bartender says: “Dude! That’s amazing. Where did you get that?”

The man says: “Well, I have a genie that lives in my pocket. I made a wish and this is what I got!”

Bartender: “Wow! Can I make a wish?”

Guy: “Sure. Worth a shot.”

So the bartender thinks about it for a moment, rubs his hands together and says, “Genie! I wish for half-a-million bucks!”

There is a loud crack and the bar fills with smoke. All the sudden they hear quacks everywhere and as the smoke clears, the bar is suddenly full of ducks.

Bartender: “Dammit! I didn’t say ‘ducks.’ I said ‘bucks!'”

Guy: “Yeah, well, the genie is a little hard of hearing. Do you really think I wished for a 12-inch pianist?”

Ba-Dum-Chaaa!

UPDATED!!

And then my mom left this one in the comments, which made me laugh out loud, so I’m a-postin’ it:

So this guy goes into a bar. On the bar is a gallon jug of $20 bills–almost full. He asks the bartender what the deal is with the $20 bills.

The bartender says that he has to pay $20 to find out…”no way” says the guy. And then he proceeds to drink..after about 4 beers and his curiosity peaking he agrees to find out and places his $20 in the jar.

The bartender then tells him that in order to win all the money in the jar he has to perform three tasks:

(1) There is a quart bottle of the hottest, most potent pepper sauce that exists in the world. You must drink it without comment and exclamations.

(2) There is pit bull out back who has an abscessed tooth–you must pull it.

(3) There is a 90 year old woman upstairs who has never experienced an orgasm–you must satisfy her.

The guy says “you must be crazy! I wouldn’t even drink the pepper sauce; let alone those other things!”
And he realizes he has lost his money.

After about 6 more beers and a couple of bourbon and cokes, he says…”okayyyy…”

He swigs down the bottle of pepper sauce and even though his face gets beet red and he starts sweating like it’s August in Alabama, he doesn’t mutter a sound.

He walks out back and the bartender and all the clients in the bar hear the most god-awful fight that they can imagine…barking, screaming, yelling, growling, biting..it was almost to painful to listen…and then, there is total silence. The bartender tells everyone that he thinks the pit bull has killed the guy.

At that moment the guy walks back into the bar–he is bleeding profusely; his clothes are ripped to shreds; he is barely able to stand…

And he says..

“Sos, okayyyyy…where’s the old haggg wif the baddd tooth…”

A dark day for choice

Yesterday, the Supreme Court ruled to uphold the Federal Abortion Ban that was signed into law by President Bush in 2003. In this law, abortions during the second trimester of pregnancy are now criminalized, with no exception for the health of the mother.

I don’t think I’ll surprise anyone by saying that I am pro-choice, or even that I am intensely, fanatically pro-choice. Abortion rights are the political issue that I consider more important than any other, and nothing determines my votes like a candidate’s stance on this issue. This ruling yesterday was an devastating setback for the pro-choice movement, but more importantly it was a terrible blow to personal rights and freedom for all women.

I realize that abortion is an incredibly emotional issue, and almost everyone has a strong stance one way or another. I respect that people find abortion to be wrong, but I can’t understand their justifications. I have yet to hear one argument made by an anti-choice supporter that made me even consider for one moment that they were right. As long as I have known what abortion is, I have recognized the need for it and been happy that the option was there.

I can’t help but think that most people who are anti-choice are being incredibly short-sighted and naive. They seem to think that these women who are having abortions are using it as a form of birth control, and they are regularly aborting healthy babies for no other reason than that they can’t be bothered with it. They seem to think they are taking it lightly and that they aren’t considering in implications of what they are doing. I will admit, I think there are probably women out there who do feel that way, but I can’t believe that is the majority of the women out there. Every story I have heard about abortion, and everyone I know who has had to deal with it has expressed the pain and the anguish that a decision like that caused.

I, thank God, have never had to make the decision to have an abortion, but there have been times when I thought that I would. I have known and loved people who have gone through this. I have watched them struggle with it morally, ethically, emotionally, and it is heartbreaking in every single instance. Any woman (or couple) who has to make a decision like that has nothing but my sympathy, and I hurt for them. It is a terrible, life-changing choice, and I hope I never have to make it.

But the choice has to be there. How can we possibly live in a society where someone is forced to be a mother? How can we live in a society where a child is brought unwillingly into a family? How can we live in a society that doesn’t respect the fact that having and raising a child should be the most important, well thought-out decision that anyone can make?

They argue that life is precious, and therefore should not be wasted. I agree, life is incredibly precious. And because of that, it should never be taken lightly. How can someone argue that it is OK to bring a baby into a life where they are unwanted and uncared for and have no hope for a healthy happy future? How is it respecting and honoring the miracle of life to condemn a child to misery? How can you argue that that is a better alternative than safely removing a clump of cells from a woman who doesn’t want it? I will say it again: Nobody should ever be forced into motherhood.

And for those of you ready with the “there is no such thing as an unwanted child” argument, how about this? According to the Adoption and Foster Care Analysis and Reporting System (AFCARS) there are approximately 523,000 children in foster care. 523,000 children in foster care. Five hundred and twenty-three thousand children without parents, without family, and many without hope of ever being welcomed into a loving, safe home. And that is just in this country. There are millions of children in orphanages in China, Russia, Africa, and elsewhere. And you think that it is a good idea to introduce more unwanted children into this world?

But even for those people who can justify forcing children into lives like that, and even for those people who think that aborting a potentially healthy baby is an unforgivable sin, what about the other instances? One of the things that upsets me the most about this bill is that there are no exceptions. There are no instances when it is allowed or OK. Not even in the cases of catastrophic fetal problems. Here is the story of one woman:

When I was 18 weeks pregnant at my doctor’s office in Lexington, Massachusetts, I remember eagerly anticipating the ultrasound that would tell my husband and me whether our baby was a boy or a girl. We were so excited, oohing and aahing like the giddy, expectant parents that we were. The technician, however, was quiet, and I started to panic. We learned that the ultrasound indicated that the fetus had an open neural-tube defect, meaning that the spinal column had not closed properly. We had to go to Boston immediately, where a new, high-tech machine could tell us more.

In Boston, the doctor spoke using words no pregnant woman wants to hear – clinical terms like hydrocephalus and spina bifida. The spine, she said, had not closed properly, and because of the location of the opening, it was as bad as it could get. What the doctors knew was awful: the baby would be paralyzed and incontinent, its brain smushed against the base of the skull and the cranium full of fluid. What they didn’t know was devastating: would the baby live at all, and if so, with what sort of mental and developmental defects? Countless surgeries would be required if the baby did live, and none of them could repair the damage.

It sounds naive now, but I never considered pregnancy a gamble. Sitting in the doctor’s windowless office, I tried to read between the lines of complicated medical jargon, searching for answers that weren’t there. But I already knew what I had to do. Even if our baby had a remote chance of surviving, it was not a life we would choose for our child. I asked over and over, “Are we doing the right thing?”

Our family – even my Catholic father and Republican father-in-law, neither of whom was ever pro-choice – assured us that we were. Politics suddenly became personal – their daughter’s heartbreak, their son’s pain, their grandchild’s suffering – and that changed everything. If President Bush’s Federal Abortion Ban had been in force on that day, my husband and I wouldn’t have had this option.

My personal story about Bush’s abortion ban

Imagine being pregnant, being overjoyed with the idea that you are going to have a child. Imagine eagerly awaiting the life that you have imagined and then imagine getting news like that. This baby who’s face you have created in your mind, who will have your husband’s eyes and your mother’s smile, this baby you have already named and loved and known. Imagine hearing that this baby will never know you, will never speak, will never be cognizant of anything around it. And that is if, IF, it lives.

And now imagine having to carry that baby to term. For 5 more months you will have to carry this baby, loving it more and more every day, feeling it growing inside you, and at the same time knowing that this baby will never be anything more than a vegetable. Imagine having to actually give birth to this baby. To go through the pain and difficulty of labor and instead of being able to hold your healthy child…

Even the though of it is so incredibly terrible, so catastrophic, that tears are welling up.

Because I now know that if that ever happens to me, if I am ever cursed with the knowledge that my baby barely mentally and physically functions, that will be my exact fate. That will be what I have have to go through.

Or imagine if the news is even worse news:

I could see my baby’s amazing and perfect spine, a precise, pebbled curl of vertebrae. His little round skull. The curve of his nose. I could even see his small leg floating slowly through my uterus.

My doctor came in a moment later, slid the ultrasound sensor around my growing, round belly and put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s not alive,” she said.

She turned her back to me and started taking notes. I looked at the wall, breathing deeply, trying not to cry.

I can make it through this, I thought. I can handle this.

I didn’t know I was about to become a pariah.

I was 19 weeks pregnant, strong, fit and happy, imagining our fourth child, the newest member of our family. He would have dark hair and bright eyes. He’d be intelligent and strong — really strong, judging by his early kicks.

And now this. Not alive?

You should read the rest of this article.

One of the unintended consequences of this law is that doctors are no longer being trained to perform these procedures, so instead of being able to have the dead fetus removed from her womb immediately, this woman was forced with the choice of a risky induced labor or living for a week with a dead baby in her body while she waited for one of the few doctors in her area to be able to perform the (much safer and easier) abortion.

So thank you, you people who are so-called pro-life. Thank you for condemn women to misery. Thank you for cursing children to awful lives. Thank you for making this world a better place. Well done.

About Virginia Tech

I’m as shocked and appalled as everyone else by this, and I don’t really know what to think or what to say, but I’ve been struck by two things along the way.

1.  Does anyone else think it is really odd that the shooter was a South Korean?  I know it is extremely racially insensitive of me to think this, and it is also a broad generalization which I hate as a rule, but I don’t peg Asians as mass murderers.  They just never seem to be the people who cause the problems.  I hope this doesn’t create a backlash for the Asian community.

2.  I’m getting really upset at people blaming the University for not notifying people after the initial shooting.  This is ridiculous.  How often do domestic arguments turn into giant shooting sprees?  Nobody though the situation would escalate into something like this, and they shouldn’t be blamed for what happened next.  I realize that a lot of people are looking for someone to be angry at, and they are looking for answers, but Virginia Tech shouldn’t be scapegoated for this.

Maybe just a little bit blasphemous

Oh my God, this is funny. My brilliant and witty friend, Marc, who always manages to find the funniest things on the internet sent this along to me.

The Old Testament as told through Lego models.

I thank my stars for the internet on a pretty regular basis. I can’t think of what my life would be like without the convenience of Google and E-Mail. I praise the ability to be able to immediately find a better word without having to drag out my thesaurus (and that I have spell checkers! because I totally just misspelled thesaurus! [oh my god! twice!]). I am so pleased that I don’t have to rely on CNN or, God forbid, Fox “news” when I’m trying to get a sense of the world. But seriously, sometimes I’m just so thankful that there is now an outlet for people to act out the Bible in Legos. Where would we be without this sort of thing?

Getting what he deserves

When I first heard that Joe Francis (the creator of the odious Girls Gone Wild franchise) was arrested on Tuesday, I couldn’t help but smile a little. Not that it hasn’t happened before, and not that I thought it would come to anything, but anything that makes that smug creep suffer a little bit makes me happy. He was being held on violating a contempt of court charge, which was pretty minor, but then he spent a night in prison and today, things got much worse for ol’ Joe. Turns out trying to bribe a security guard and sneaking prescription pills into jail isn’t actually legal, even if you’ve exploited your way into a multi-million dollar empire. Now he’s facing a 5-year prison term in a Federal Prison, and he cried as he was led away in handcuffs today.

Perhaps you aren’t bothered by Girls Gone Wild as I am. Perhaps you think that it is nothing more than drunk sluts looking for a way to claw their way onto the D-list, and that it isn’t hurting anyone. Perhaps you don’t think he deserves to be lambasted. If so, you need to go read this article right now, and just realize what a filthy, vile man he is. It’s long, but it is incredibly insightful and well-written and it will make your skin crawl. This man deserves every bad thing that comes to him. Oh, and Joe, you know how you told that reporter:

“I’ve been anally raped over and over by the media.”

You think the media was bad? You just wait.

I need your plant help

Does anyone know what plant this is? It just started blooming a few weeks ago, but it has suddenly EXPLODED in a profusion of yellow goodness in the last days. And yay for blue skies.

*UPDATED*

My dad came through and found the flower!  It’s Yellow Jessamine.  Incidentally, that is the state flower of South Carolina, so probably a good thing to know.  Thanks Daddy!

Farewell, you crazy old man

I’m sorry to tell you all that Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. died yesterday.  He was the first author I ever read that made me immediately go out to my favorite used bookstore and buy as many of his books as they had.  I’ve read them all, with the exception of Slaughterhouse Five, which, ironically, is the only book of his that most people have read.  His fiction is often crazy and random, but it always manages to be touching, human, and engrossing.

I don’t remember which book I read first, it may have been Cat’s Cradle, but it was loaned to me by my high school sweetheart, Adam, when I was in 11th grade.  I had always been an avid reader, but that was when I was first stepping out of my comfort zone and began to take risks with what I was reading.  He was the author that taught me that unconventional isn’t necessarily bad.

My favorite book of his is the often overlooked Mother Night, which is a haunting and tragic story about loneliness and redemption.  And Nazis.  If you’ve never read a Vonnegut book, read that one.  It makes me cry.

The unintentional side effects of blogging (and no, it’s not a rash)

In my 3 or so months in the blogging world, I’ve been thrilled by a number of things.  Like the first time my visitor count went over 100 (holy shit!  really? 104 people visited today? how many of those were my mom?) and my first totally random commenter who I didn’t A) know B) know how she got here.  Exciting things I tell you.  But I think that today I may have reached the zenith of my career online, because I was just informed that I have somehow embedded not only myself, but also Pete, into the psyche of one of my readers.

I had a nice little message today from Zayne (and by the way, your named made my spell checker go CRAZY!), one of my friends from college who I never thought I’d see again until the wonders of MySpace allowed me to stalk people I had a crush on in high school, and also reunite me with old friends blah blah blah.  Whatever.  It should be called MyStalker.   But anyway!  In his dream, Zayne was working at an old job when he spotted me.  He came up to say hi and then he saw Pete standing in one of the aisles.

(Now this is especially interesting because Zayne and Pete have never met each other.  Zayne does not know Pete.   Pete does not know Zayne.  They have had zero interaction with one another.  And yet, YET!, because of my blog and my propensity to show off my smokin’ hot boyfriend’s Very Blue Eyes, he appeared in Zayne’s dream. )

The dream gets even odder here, because as Zayne went up to talk to him, I steered him away because I was having an affair and I was afraid Zayne would tell him.  Internet, I’m not sure what I said to give the impression that I’m having an affair, but I can assure you that I am not.  My life is not nearly as exciting as that, and I’m not nearly bored enough with Pete to have an affair.  Maybe one day, but not now (Kidding!  Only kidding!  Please God don’t let this be the day Pete decides to read my blog!  Honey, I love you!  You’re smart and funny and charming!  You have nice teeth!)

If  y’all have any crazy dreams about me, please let me know.  They amuse me so much.

In other news, my life is boring!  I have nothing interesting to tell you about.  But I do have a question.  Why do guys sometimes shave their legs?  I had a guy come into work today with shaved legs.  And he wasn’t a body builder or swimmer or something like that, at least he certainly didn’t look like one.  And he had these pristine, white legs.  I couldn’t keep from staring at them.  Why would he do that?  It was weird.

Icons, Okra, and Jesus (what!?)

I had such a lovely weekend. Except for the fact that it was ridiculously frigid (because DAMNIT! I’m not supposed to wear a long, wool coat in April!) it was very beautiful. Blue skies, fragrant flowers, old ladies in crazy hats. You know, pretty standard for this time of year.

Saturday was the first weekend of the year that the fabulous farmers market was open. They run it from April through December every Saturday morning in downtown. There is definitely standard farmer’s market fare, like fresh produce and veggies and herbs and plants and such. Most of the stuff is grown by small, local farmers, so I buy a lot of produce from them when I can. It’s the best place to get okra in the city, I swear. However, it is also something of an arts fair as well, with booths set up selling everything from jewelery to paintings to purses to hand-blown glass vases (which are amazing! Why am I not rich?).

There were two lovely surprises. First of all, a really wonderful bluegrass band was playing and I was having a very difficult time not dancing around. Sometimes I lament the fact that I am no longer 5 and therefore could not do something like that without inviting snickers. Oh well. The band was (unfortunately) named YeeHaw Junction (oh, for the love of god, really?) but I can totally forgive them because they were So Good. Also, there was a delightful Russian man there who had a booth set up selling Orthodox Icons, and I bought one because it made me think of Pete.

(OK, we need to go off on a side note here. Pete is Eastern Orthodox. He’s hardcore. For those of y’all, like me, who grew up in a place where there was no such thing as Eastern Orthodox, let me try and give you a brief synopsis. Take a Catholic, then make him even more traditional, even more liturgical, and about 1000 years older. Now make sure he crosses himself about 9,000 times during a service and stands throughout the whole thing, which lasts about 3 hours. There is also a lot of very lovely chanting and singing. It’s very odd, especially if you are a heathen like me, but it is incredibly beautiful.

And yes, I do recognize that it is odd that I, and extrordinarily liberal, non-religious girl, would be dating an Orthodox Christian. I know I know I know. And I’m not going to get into all that here, because I could seriously fill up an entire blog with how ridiculous and comical this whole thing is. But it works for us. Despite the fact that it is completely crazy.

ANYWAY! Stop distracting me! They have these things called Icons, which are paintings of saints that they hang up in the churches and in their homes and they are similar to the patron saints of the Catholics.)

So now I have an icon of Saints Constantine and Elena in my house, and I love it. And when I told Pete that I bought it, he totally freaked me out by telling me that the very first icon he ever bought for himself was one of Constantine and Elena. Creepy, right? I know. I also bought some pickled okra to send to Pete, because he loves it and it is impossible to buy in Massachusetts, or so he tells me. And maybe because I was also really amused at the thought that I would be walking around with a jar of pickled okra in one hand and an Orthodox icon in the other. Hee!

On Sunday I went to Church (Mom: I’ll give you a moment to stop yourself from choking here). Well, I went to kinda church. It was the Unitarian Church, which is about as far away from Church as you can get while still sitting under a stained glass window covered in Apostles. I enjoyed it very much and everyone was incredibly nice and welcoming. And y’all, I can’t even tell you how happy I was to hear a preacher (pastor, priest? what are they called in the Unitarian Church?) use the terms liberal and progressive on multiple occasions from the altar! And I was also really happy to hear him caution people against blind faith.

But I’m going to stop right here because I don’t want to get involved in a religious discussion on my blog. For those of y’all who celebrate it: Happy Easter! I can at least say, that despite my misgivings when it comes to religion, I can certainly register my supreme respect and liking of Jesus, who was both liberal and progressive. And here are some pictures from the Farmer’s Market:

A few links

Oh, y’all.  Only in Alabama will you find stories that are this brilliant!  (Thanks to my Dad for sending me this link!)

This really puts the crap in “Holy Crap!”

And this really puts the holy in “Holy Crap!”  I’m sorry, but I think this is completely insane.  Somehow, I don’t think Jesus would approve of this nonsense.

Links O’ the Day

Oh my god, y’all! It’s a dead fairy!

I’m sorry, but I have a major issue with living in anything that can be “put up in a day.”

Probably because I live somewhere where I have to stress out about headlines like this one. Ugh. Hurricane season. Ugh.

This is the most disturbing thing you will read all day. (At least I hope so. Because if not, some really terrible stuff must be happening.)

In much funnier news, you should click on this link.  Suffice to say it contains the words “Zamboni” and “drunk” and if that isn’t’ a winning combination, I don’t know what is.

And finally, perhaps I should take Pete’s majestic facial hair as a compliment?

Alternative use

If you have taken my sage advice and started reading some of the blogs I recommended the other day, you may have followed the link from Sweet Juniper to this photoset of the Michigan Theatre. The theatre was built in 1926, one of the many grandiose theatres that filled the then-booming Detroit. It’s easy to imagine, even in the sad elegance of the structure now, the tinkling of ice in the gin glasses and the sparkle of sequined and beaded gowns adorning the grand dames of society. It must have been spectacular.

Like so many of its brethren, it struggled to make it through the 60s, as the world modernized around it, and the theatre fell on harder times in the 1970s. It was partially demolished in 1976, and then something odd happened. Instead of tearing the building down entirely, it was converted into a parking garage. As it was. Now, cars park under the frescoed ceilings, their tires occupying the same space that once held red, plush seats. It is an extraordinary site.

And I don’t know how to feel about it. It haunts me, in a visceral way. To see such a grand, beautiful building being used in such a mundane way unsettles me. It is almost as if I am the only one who can see the history shining though, dark and dingy, but still there and still resonant. Like I have somehow stumbled on a secret treasure, and those people who are parking their cars in it have no idea what lies behind the crumbling concrete walls, which is surely all they can see.

And yet, what was the other option? Literally hundreds of theatres like this one have been lost in this country. They were torn down because no one appreciated the stunning deco architecture and no one had use for an old worn out theatre that could seat 3,000. They were hungry for the land they sat on, usually in a central, downtown location. Prime for large-scale condominiums or a giant, grey office buildings. Would that have been better? Would it have been better to see the building lost entirely? Is it worth it to cheapen the building for the sake of saving it? Is it still possible to appreciate the beauty and the elegance while you are standing next to a 1989 Ford Taurus? Is this an incredibly successful example of alternative use or one of the greatest failures? I don’t know how to feel about it.