My candidate Barack Obama – UPDATED

Thornton reaches out to Obama. "I support you, please send Justin home, the sooner, the better."

We are watching Obama’s speech a second time. More from Thornton and Five Husbands tomorrow.

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Thornton Reacts to Obama’s Nomination

Thornton: Obama operative and cat reacts to nomination

This photo, snapped shortly after Hillary’s motion made Barack Obama the Democratic nominee for president, is telling; Thornton was not surprised in the least leading me to believe he has inside knowledge from both the Clinton and Obama camps.

As for me, I was weeping like a baby. The greatest gift my parents gave me was that they treated everyone they met with respect. I never heard a racial/religious slur in my home. In fact, I was delivered by a black obstetrician in the 50’s.

My parents didn’t see color – they saw the person within. Now it seems that America does too.

Thornton Strikes Again

My hands are trembling (with fury) as I write this – sitting on the couch this evening trolling the online classifieds I was deep in thought when all of a sudden a black flare exploded onto my laptop keyboard knocking it straight out of my hands.

Helpless, I watched the case close and spin, as if in slow motion, and grabbed only air in a futile attempt to break its fall.

HP – I hardly knew ye.

And Justin Jason at the Democratic National Convention - today alone your cat Thornton broke 2 glasses and a cup and spilled an entire glass of milk on my kitchen floor. Oh and yea, did I mention he tries to trip me every chance he gets.

Obama Stealth Cat - Thornton

This cat is trying to kill me.

I just thought you should know that if he succeeds that is one less vote for Obama.

I am going to slink back to my hiatus which now includes a damaged laptop (update repaired) as well as unemployment, loneliness, depression and heartache.

All my pencils are broken

along with my heart.

Five Husbands is on hiatus.

(T)HORTON HEARS A WTF?

Life has a way of making fun of you me when you I are am feeling all profound and full of self-importance.

I am an Obama supporter, vocal in my claims of doing anything I have to do to get him into office. The operative word is anything, and just to be clear by anything I meant anything (except huge donations donations or traveling around the country of course).

Eric, Son No. 2, a first time voter and Obama supporter, came to me a few weeks ago and said “you are a huge Obama supporter aren’t you mom?”

“Why yes I am, you know that, and by the way are you calling me fat?”

“Ha ha ha, Mom you are so funny. Do you remember my friend Jason? He is on Obama’s campaign staff and he needs a HUGE favor. And you will do ANYTHING to help Obama, right Mom?”

“Well yes” I said starting to get that sick feeling of accountability dread.

“Jason has a cat, a nice cat, and he has to go to Colorado, and maybe other places – can we watch his cat?”

“Yes, but only if I meet him and he gets along with the other cats.”

“Okay mom – you’re the best!”

Fast forward to last Friday evening, Ev’s 7th birthday celebration, with me sick as a dog and Jacob, still unsteady from his seizure, both of us grateful for Eric’s efforts to make Ev’s party all that we wanted it to be.

It's my party!

He worked like a dog while Jacob and I were at the ER and Ev’s mom was treating Ev and her friend to an afternoon of fun things.

The smoke from the candles on Ev’s cake had barely cleared when Eric pulled me aside.

“I did good mom, didn’t I? I am really trying to be helpful – did you have a good time – is there anything else I can do?”

“No honey, thank you so much.” Hugs followed.

“Uh, mom remember my friend Jason? He leaves for Colorado tomorrow so I am bringing his cat over in a little bit.”

“Uh, WHAT – we don’t even know if he will get along with Mittens and Cloud.”

“Yes he will, he is a nice cat.”

Thornton: Cat and Obama Operative

And for the first few days he was. Until I penned the beautiful and probably too self-important post about Jacob and I was feeling all like I was the best mother ever.

Thornton brought me down to earth fast.

Last night while I was attempting to write another heartfelt what a good mom I am post – Thornton started to act odd, scratching around the family room, and especially on the BRAND NEW DOG BED I just got for Jacob’s dogs, TH and Chaucer.

“What are you doing Thornton?”

Then I made the mistake of looking away. A moment later a smell not unlike the bowels of hell assailed my nostrils.

“What the FUCK!”

Thornton took a dump on the dog’s bed.

I cursed and cleaned and then dragged my weary ass to bed where again ….

“What the FUCK?”

On my sheets, on my just CLEAN sheets and just clean comforter and floor there was kitty puke with a 3 foot spatter pattern.

I fell to my knees and renounced my self-important and heartfelt postings. Internets – I have been warned.

You've been warned

I am pro-life: no one should die for cheap food

On June 7th I wrote about the death of Maria Jimenez, a 17 year old undocumented laborer, who died while tending vines in a field partially owned by wine bad boy, Fred Franzia of Two Buck Chuck fame. In spite of petitions and phone calls corporate giant Trader Joe’s refused to use their leverage to urge safer working conditions farmworkers.

The hot summer temperatures continue and to this date 6 farmworkers have died.

We eat the food that farmworkers suffer to put on our tables. No one should die so that we have cheap food.

An email, even if you live out of state, lets the California legislature know that the country is watching.

It only takes a second – please help. UFW Take Action

Ricola

I just finished my second pack of Ricola cherry honey herb throat drops – for those of you with mathematical inclinations that is 48 drops consumed over 7 1/2 days.

I am surprised – given how lousy I’ve been feeing I would have though I had more than 7 cough drops per day. The final cough drop of package number 2 was consumed at 6:45 AM this morning.

I am still sick, I think I have pink eye and/or pneumonia and on top of that I have to renew my drivers’s license and I don’t think I have ever looked prettier.

I can’t think straight, write anything interesting; all I can do is whine and moan.

Blogging My birthday, Arjewtino style

On June 24th I stopped by Arjewtino’s blog for my regular helping of his unique heeby wisdom (I do so love my people!). I was not disappointed – an ironic birthday celebration was in full swing. And I do love irony. So with a tip of the birthday hat to the master …

My Birthday is on the way here. In spite of my refusal to even think of the numbers 8 and 13 and 55, those self same numbers even now are arranging themselves for presentation at approximately 9:35AM. The 55 is especially troublesome. It does not seem to be the hippest number at the party. No savant am I, but to me this number looks a tad lumpy and gray; if I put on my rose colored glasses it takes a somewhat more pleasing form, but still, it is far from a beauty.

Rose colored view

It wasn’t always this way. I can remember a time when 8 and 13 frolicked happily with 5 paired with various other numbers. Everything was new and fresh (including my skin which let me tell you was flawless).

There were years of balloons and song, frosted confections with delicate (yet large) pink roses. There were first bicycles and first kisses and first cars. There was a green record player that coincided with one first kiss that played McArthur Park over and over again while I tended a first heart ache. A heartache that paled in comparison to the pain I felt November of that same year when I lost my father.

I learned then what I know now all to well – life doesn’t stop. At some point the pain eases and you just get up and start living again. Our thirst for life is relentless and 8 and 13 knew it way back then. We rolled on.

Soon that little party and the green record player were but a faded memory and we jumped headlong into adulthood. Just past the magic 18, no longer content with birthday cake, 8 and 13 rushed to taste wedding cake only to spend 24 as a baby divorcee, drunk for the very first time, crying at the party.

You know the song – It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to …

And I did.

Not 8 and 13 though – they were invincible. Moving on and gathering steam they decided they had no time for tears. There were degrees to get, marriages to make and babies to have. They sped through the rock n’ roll years recklessly, joyously, and filled them in equal measure with joy and heartbreak.

Like a virgin for the very first time

Young mother

Tough as they were though, they couldn’t outrun every trouble. There were years without parties and plenty of tears and broken dreams. As the song goes “that’s life” and it sure was.

Fall from grace

After a hard fall 8 and 13 partied a whole lot less but still set out a great table. The players changed but there were by now two constant companions, Eric and Jacob. It seemed only natural and right that the boys take front and center and 8 and 13 were happy to oblige. So was I.

Front and center

Jacob on a roll

The table is both more and less crowded now – if that makes sense. Jacob brings a family and 8 and 13 share with a certain Ev the right to party with 16. Eric is often on the run and ready to charge out the door. My first party planner is fading away, very fragile and won’t be with me and 8 and 13 later today because I am sick. So tonight’s party, much like my life, will not be what I planned, but I will celebrate getting to 55, alive and intact.

This post is dedicated to my mom, who even before dementia set in used to send me cards captioned “To my good friend” and to my sons Jacob and Eric, who when I turned 50 presented the cake that appears below. We are dysfunctional, crazy, funny, smart, kind and a family in all its messy glory. I am grateful and I am so blessed.

You're Old

Dear internets – this birthday if you are inclined to give a gift – please consider doing so to Lisa @Clusterfook who is going through her third battle with cancer or my neighbor Gary Balogh who, as I write this, is gravely ill and awaiting a stem cell transplant for Birkett’s lymphoma.

As for me, for my birthday I want a new, shiny job with benefits – ribbon not required. If you know of an organization that needs someone with my awesome skill set, feel free to email me.

Grim Statistics – Taser Deaths Keep Rising

This week brought yet another death after tasering of an unarmed person. On August 10th, Kiethedric Hines, 31, of Rockford Illinois died after being tasered by police. His death is the 2nd death after tasering in the City of Rockford in less that two months* and that has some people (finally) questioning the city’s use of tasers.

Interestingly even though the preliminary autopsy results did not establish that a heart attack killed Hines Winnebago County Coroner Sue Fiduccia raised the taser safety issue.

The two recent taser-related deaths have some wondering if tasers are the answer. “If it was only one this year, you might’ve thought it was just the person.” That’s why she thinks the department should really think twice about using the weapons to slow people down. “I think they need to reassess the thing as to the strength and what it’s doing to people.” Rockford Man Dies After Being Tased By Police, WREX

Given Taser International’s successful legal challenge to an Ohio coroners finding linking tasering to death one wonders whether the coroner’s opinion was affected in any way by the threat of litigation from giant Taser International.

The Death March

Since Ohioan Kevin Piskura’s tasering and death on April 25th, in North America alone, 6 9 10 11 14 20 27 (updated August 12th), more people have died after being tasered:

340. April 24, 2008: Kevin Piskura, 24, Cincinnati, Ohio
341. April 24, 2008: Dewayne Chatt, 39, Memphis, Tennessee
342. April 27, 2008: Paul Thompson, 24, Greensboro, North Carolina
343. April 28, 2008: Jermaine Ward, 28, Jackson, Tennessee
344. May 4, 2008: Joe Kubat, 21, St. Paul, Minnesota
345. May 6, 2008: James S. Wilson, 22, Alton, Missouri
346. May 28, 2008: Ricardo Manuel Abrahams, 44, Woodland, California
347. May 31, 2008: Robert Ingram, 27, Raceland, Louisiana
348. June 5, 2008: Willie Maye, 43, Birmingham, Alabama
349. June 6, 2008: Donovan Graham, 39, Meriden, Connecticut
350. June 8, 2008: Quintrell T. Brannon, 25, Vincennes, Indiana
351. June 9, 2008: Tony Curtis Bradway, 26, Brooklyn, New York
352. June 23, 2008: Jeffrey Marreel, 36, Norfolk, Ontario
353. June 24, 2008: Ernest Graves, 26, Rockford, Illinois
354. June 27, 2008: Nicholas Cody, 27, Dothan, Alabama
355. July 2, 2008: Isaac Bass, 34, Louisville, Kentucky
356. July 4, 2008: Othello Pierre, 23, Baton Rouge, Louisiana
357. July 8, 2008: Samuel DeBoise, 29, St. Louis, Missouri
358. July 8, 2008: Carlos Vargas, 42, San Bernardino, California
359. July 14, 2008: Marion Wilson Jr., 52, Houston, Texas
360. July 14, 2008: Deshoun Keyon Torrence, 18, Long Beach, California
361. July 22, 2008: Michael Langan, 17, Winnipeg, Manitoba
362. July 23, 2008: Richard Smith, 46, Dallas, Texas
363. July 26, 2008: Anthony Davidson, Statesville, 29, North Carolina
364. August 4, 2008: Jerry Jones, 45, Beaumont, Texas
365. August 4, 2008: Andre Thomas, 37, Swissvale, Pennsylvania
366. August 2, 2008: Lawrence Rosenthal, 54, Hemet, California
367. August 10, 2008: Kiethedric Hines, 31, Rockford, Illinois

via Truth Not Tasers

Why you should care

In the future, in lieu of a boarding pass you may be given, and required to wear, a “safety bracelet that would serve as a stun device...” Yes you read that correctly – you, your child, your elderly parent, your teenager may be required to wear a stun device to fly.

Have you, or someone you love, ever been agitated or upset or frustrated at the airport? Consider the newly released TSA guidelines on search of electronic devices without cause for suspicion and consider that some TSA person could, without cause, grab your laptop, phone or ipod, and NEVER give it back. You would be upset yes? Maybe you would start walking towards them in an angry upset manner.

Before you do think.

There is, on average, a death a week in North America related to the use of tasers/stun devices. Given the potential that you may have to wear one to fly – are you really comfortable that they are safe, excuse me, less lethal?

I’m not.

* Ernest Graves, 29, died on June 2 (less than 2 months ago) after he was tasered by police responding to a domestic disturbance.

Why I Need A Wife

My need for a wife became evident during law school and the early years of my practice when I juggled marriage, an infant with separation anxiety, a child with learning disabilities, meddlesome in-laws, a mother who would always comment “I don’t see why you have to be at the office so much,” a boss who told everyone I worked part time because he let me work on a flexible schedule and my requirement to bill 2600 hours annually.

WARNING – you may want to pick up some cheese before you read further …

I have been miserable the past 3 days – I caught some sort of cold chest cough thing which has me feeling downright awful. Add to that the following – I still haven’t found a job (it’s been 8 months), my birthday is this week and I am not having one of those shiny everyone gather round it is an important birthday, I just got over a back spasm that lasted 3 weeks and my little mom is fading away by inches so you can imagine I am feeling pretty low.

For all your LOA folks out there I try to stay positive, I really do, but this year has been one challenge after another. On one hand I have had the time to write, but to quote Tevye, on the other hand, the stress of not having paying work causes so much stress that the funny quirky stories that used to flow through my head have trickled to a halt.

This morning I woke up on the couch after a mostly sleepless night. I got Son No. 2 (today aka the Prince) up for work and made myself a cup of tea. I really wanted chicken soup but simply felt to crappy to drive anywhere to buy it. I settled for peanut butter on toast for breakfast. Lunchtime rolled around and I decided to shower and trek out to Whole Foods. That plan failed when I stood up and got too dizzy to take a shower. So it was cough drops, tea and cheerios for lunch.

I could weep.

If I had had the sense to get a wife all those years ago not only would I have a bowl of steaming hot home made matzoh ball soup, my house would be spotless, the laundry would be done and the tar the Prince tracked in from the newly seal coated driveway would be cleaned up.

A woman's place is in the kitchen

No doubt she would also make sure I had my favorite pajamas clean and fluffed while she brought me my favorite books all the while gently soothing my bruised unemployed ego and assuaging my worries about not getting any resumes sent out today.

She would tell the Prince to bring the old air conditioner downstairs to the tree lawn for pick up (the one I have begged him to bring down for the past um 8 weeks), she would take Son No. 1 chicken soup (because he caught what I have) and take his kids to the movie, or even better, out to buy me a birthday present.

Oh and she would be planning a small low key, but very elegant, birthday party for me.

And I wouldn’t have to do a thing.

My desire is apparently based somewhere in my psyche. I visited Ads by Mike to have my browser history analyzed and based upon my web habits it seems that there is a strong possibility I am actually male.

Mike On Ads says

Likelihood of you being FEMALE is 35%
Likelihood of you being MALE is 65%

I should have known.