Tag Archives: women

Women Against Sarah Palin

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A Web site sharing what thinking women think.

The other day, I got an e-mail message from a friend. She doesn’t usually forward political e-mails, but she had a lot of respect for the two women who’d written what she forwarded, so she sent it on rather apologetically.

The e-mail message was an appeal to women to share their thoughts on why Sarah Palin was a bad choice to be “one heartbeat away from the presidency. E-mails sent to a certain address would be put on a new blog. I shared my thoughts.

Women Against Sarah PalinThe following day, a Twitter friend linked to the resulting Web site, Woman Against Sarah Palin. I stopped by this morning to read what a few of the women had written. There were hundreds of comments from all over the country and none of them were positive.

The main thought of the site’s founders is summarized in their “Profile”:

We are not in the habit of criticizing women in the public sphere, as we usually feel we should support our female compatriots with as much encouragement as we can. However, Sarah Palin’s record is anti-woman. Feminism is not simply about achieving the power and status typically held by men. It’s about protecting and supporting the rights of women of all classes, races, cultures, and beliefs. Palin’s record and beliefs do not align with this. She was chosen by John McCain specifically because he believes that American women will vote for any female candidate regardless of their qualifications. He is wrong.

This echoes my sentiments exactly. I’m actually quite insulted by the choice — as if picking a woman as a running mate is enough to get the female vote.

But what’s scaring me most is that it seems to be working among some women. And that’s why I hope people will read what’s on this site. Don’t be fooled by a skirt and a lipsticked “hockey mom.” She was chosen not for her qualifications but for her ability to pump up McCain’s campaign. Do you really want someone with her background to be one heartbeat away?

Visit Woman Against Sarah Palin and see what the women there are saying.

A Wasted Day

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One of those days when you wish there was a “do-over” button.

Yesterday wasn’t an especially good day as far as productivity is concerned.

Shooting Trouble

I started the day with a computer problem. Simply said, I was locked out of all my blogs. It was impossible for me to download entries into ecto (which is how I first discovered the problem) and impossible to make any changes to my blogs.

The error message I got said my IP address was blacklisted.

I spent the next 3 hours troubleshooting the problem, with calls and e-mails to my Internet connection ISP, my Web host ISP, the maker of ecto, and one of the blacklist maintenance company. The cause of the problem turned out to be a change in the server used by one of my plugins, Bad Behavior. When I upgraded all my blogs to Bad Behavior 2.0.11, the problem went away. I wrote about it in Maria’s Guides, since I suspect there were many Bad Behavior users in the same situation yesterday morning.

But that was 3 hours wasted.

Costco Visit

Next, I was scheduled to attend a 2-hour seminar given by SCORE’s Phoenix Chapter. The seminar was in the Phoenix area, so I had to make a 40-mile drive to get there. I jumped in the shower, washed up, got dressed, and even put some makeup on. Then Ihopped in my little Honda and took off down Grand Avenue, stopping only long enough to pick up some “breakfast” at Filibertos — a pollo asado buritto. It was 10:30 AM.

I needed to hit Costco, near Bell Road and the Loop 101. I’m putting together care packages for U.S. troops deployed in the Gulf area and have 8 more packages to put together to meet my self-imposed quota of 10. Since the kinds of things these men and women were looking for were snacks and toiletries best bought in bulk, I figured Costco would be a good place to shop and perhaps save a few bucks.

When I got to Costco, I realized that I not only didn’t have my Costco membership card, but I also didn’t have my driver’s license for ID. I didn’t want to drive back the next day, so I tried to get some kind of temporary pass so I could shop. I was able to do so, but with the line I had to wait on at the membership desk and the amount of time they took to look up my husband’s business account, I was soon out of time for shopping. I needed to get to the seminar.

Girlfriends Helping Girlfriends

The SCORE event was held at the very nice Glendale Aquatic and Recreation Center. I guess having a facility like this is one of the perks of living in a place where more than 50% of the population is under the age of 65. It was a big meeting facility attached to an indoor pool. I assume that there were other facilities in there for recreation, but I didn’t wander around. I checked in and went right inside.

For some reason, I thought my seat at one of the two dozen round tables was in the back corner of the room. It turned out to be in the front corner. I soon got into a conversation with another female business owner, Marcy, who sells electrical components for commercial construction.

I should mention here that the topic of this free seminar was “Women Helping Women.” Four “successful” business women would each give a 10-minute presentation. Afterward, they’d sit together on a panel where one of the women acted as a moderator to ask them questions. We were supposed to be able to ask them questions, too, but that never happened.

I won’t go into detail on the speakers. I will say that the first one, a “self-made woman,” was primarily a motivational speaker with a big booming voice and a “you can do it” attitude and message. I agree with that entirely, although she was a little too self-promotional for my taste. The next few simply couldn’t compete, with their relatively tiny voices, flat stories, and failed attempts at humor. They should have ended with the big woman. It would have done more to keep us awake than the Hershey’s kisses they put in front of us. (My sugar buzz hit just after the last speaker.)

They talked about networking and helping your “girlfriends.” This is an attitude I just can’t tolerate — pointedly making a distinction between men and women in the workplace and going out of your way to help one gender over the other. I’m of the school that says if you can’t make it in a field, get out and make room for someone else. (This could be a result of working in the highly competitive New York job market, where I had my first career.) I don’t care if you’re a man or a woman. If you can do it, do it. If you can’t, don’t expect help just because you pee sitting down. In fact, I think the attitude of women insinuating that they’re different and need help is part of what keeps them from achieving what they could achieve. They’re holding themselves back with gender-related excuses.

Which may make you wonder what I was doing there. Frankly, as the third speaker started on her “help your girlfriends” spiel, I was wondering that myself.

Time crawled. By the time they were finished, I was ready to go. While the other women “networked,” I bolted.

Back to Costco

This was probably the only productive part of my day. I spent nearly an hour in Costco, gathering up snacks, toiletries, and a few personal clothing items to send the troops. I also bought a case of my current favorite wine, a king-sized bottle of Ketel One, some Pine Sol, flannel sheets for our camper, and two pairs of men’s lounge pants, for me to wear to work in my home office.

I won’t say how much I spent. I will say that I spent too much.

These things filled my car’s trunk. I had to put the case of wine on the front passenger seat.

The Wasted Meeting

By then, it was 4 PM and I still had one stop to make: at the helicopter flight school where I’m planning to get my instrument rating. I called to make sure they were still open and expecting me. They were and they were. I told my contact I’d be there within 30 minutes and hit the road.

I made it in 20 minutes. I went into an office filled almost to overflowing with men in tan flight suits. I found the one I was looking for and he brought me into the new Chief Pilot’s office.

I saw “new” because the organization had undergone a major shakeup less than two weeks before. The man I’d negotiated pricing, etc. with was gone. His replacement was a small, young man who was evidently enjoying his position of power. He produced the rate document that had been drawn up by his predecessor for me. He said that with the other guy gone, I’d have to meet with his boss to verify the rates. His boss worked at Mesa, where I get my helicopter maintained. He’d sent me to Glendale for training, since it was closer to where I lived. But he was in Las Vegas right now, so we couldn’t call him. We’d have the meeting on the next day.

He didn’t seem to give a shit that I’d driven down from Wickenburg — a distance of about 50 miles — for the meeting and that I might have to drive down again for another meeting the next day. I held my temper. It wasn’t easy. I don’t like having my time wasted, especially at the end of a long, frustrating day with a long drive ahead of me.

They wouldn’t even put me in the system or get me on the schedule. The meeting was a complete waste of time.

And I know what’s coming. They’re going to try to go back on the rates we tentatively agreed upon. I suspect that they’ll raise them by about $20 to $50 per hour. Since I need 30 hours, this will make my instrument rating even more costly than the $8K I’d budgeted for it.

I’m already thinking about looking for another flight school. The only problem is, all the flight schools in Arizona — including this one — use the “program” approach: pay one price and get all your ratings and the pseudo promise of a job. I was lucky to find this place so “close” to home. That means I might need to go out of state — which would be more costly — at my busiest flying time of the year if I want the rating by spring. So I’m in a pickle.

But what bothered me most is attending a meeting for no reason other than to tell me that I’d have to attend another meeting. Hell, isn’t that what a telephone is for? Why the hell do people think I wear that damn thing on my belt?

The Drive Home

It took an hour to get home from there. I went west on Glendale Road, then drove around Luke Air Force Base. I got to see some F-16s landing right over my head. (I had the top down.) Then I took route 303 back up to Grand Avenue.

Along the way, I took a phone call from a guy in Montana. A friend of his had flown with me on a tour and told him I might be a good contact for information about R-44 helicopters. I answered his questions. He wants the helicopter to commute back and forth to work, which is about 60 air miles each way. I told him to think of me if he needed a ferry pilot to bring the aircraft from the factory to Montana. That’s a flight I’d love to make.

The drive was nearly traffic-free once I got on Route 303. Between podcasts on my iPod and the telephone conversation, I was kept entertained. So it really wasn’t so bad. I suppose I should get used to it if I’m going to get flight training at Glendale.

It was nearly dark when I got home at about 6 PM. Mike was already home, feeding the horses. As I made dinner, I kept thinking about how much precious time had been wasted that day.

On College Reunions

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Apathy and death among Hofstra University’s Class of 1982.

Yesterday’s mail brought a big white envelope from Hofstra University, my alma mater. May 20 was the 25th anniversary of my graduating class, the Class of 1982. Although I was tempted to make the cross-country trek to Long Island, NY from my home in Arizona, I’d scheduled a helicopter rides gig for May 19 in Yarnell and preferred to do that. I’m glad I did.

A few months before the event, Hofstra’s Alumni Association sent out a survey form requesting bios from class members. Proud of what I’ve done since my college years, I promptly filled mine out and returned it to the school. They wanted a digital photo to go with it, but I forgot to go online (as they requested) and upload a suitable image.

My College Years

Understand this: my college years were among the most difficult yet enjoyable years of my life. Difficult primarily because of the expense. Hofstra, a private school, was getting about $120 per credit in those days. While I know that’s nothing compared to today’s tuitions, that $1800 to $2200 per semester tuition bill (plus books plus room and board) was killing me. The deal I cut with my parents was that each of them (they were divorced) would cough up 1/3 and I’d put in the final third. I consider myself lucky for being able to get that much from them. I also consider myself lucky for getting two scholarships that knocked more than $1000 off the annual tuition fee. So yes — I only had to come up with about $1200 a year. But I had to work two part-time minimum wage jobs (at less than $3/hour, if I recall) to make that and the money I needed to keep my car running and food in my mouth. I was 20 when I graduated and, by that point, I’d already worked harder than anyone else I knew.

(I was also incredibly thin at one point, weighing in at only 105 pounds. I ate little and worked hard and simply couldn’t keep the weight on. At 5’8″ tall, I looked terrible — absolutely skeletal. It took the school’s meal plan and those delicious hot rolls at dinner to fatten me back up.)

I’m not complaining about the hard work or financial situation. I believe in working hard to get ahead. And 25 years later, I still believe it. Too many people are looking for a free ride. Too many people spend more effort trying to get away with as little real work as possible than actually doing the work they’re being paid to do. And then they wonder why they’re not getting anywhere in life, why the promotions are always going to someone else, or why they’re first in line for layoff when their company starts sending jobs to India and Pakistan.

I also think that everyone should be a little needy at least once in their life. Back in those days, having $20 in my pocket made me rich. The money I made went to my tuition bill, to feed myself (until I got on that meal plan and my parents picked up 2/3 the cost), and to put gas in my car. (I drove a 1970 VW bug and gas cost 70¢ per gallon.) Most of my friends were in a similar situation, although I think I was the only one footing part of the bill for my education. We learned how far you could stretch a dollar and how important it was not to waste money on things we didn’t really need. I think that’s a lesson many of today’s kids could learn from. When you have to earn every dollar you spend, that dollar becomes a lot more valuable.

As for my college years being the most enjoyable of my life — well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it’s mostly true. It gave me my first taste of real freedom — and real responsibility. I learned how to have fun and take care of the things I had to do to stay in school, get decent grades, and earn enough money to get by. I had a lot of friends — mostly people like me. I never joined a sorority, but I did become part of the yearbook staff as a photographer. I spent my off-hours during the day in the school’s game room, shooting pool with some friends and becoming a reasonably good pinball player. In the evening, we’d head over to a local bar, which had excellent french onion soup for just a buck and cheap beer on Thursday nights. We also hit the Ambassador Diner in Hempstead periodically for greasy but excellent batter dipped onion rings. Almost all of my friends were guys, but there was no sex between us. (I’ve always been “one of the guys” and I still am.) I dated two different guys while in college and, unlike so many of the girls at Hofstra for their “MRS” degree, wound up single when I graduated at the age of 20 with a BBA in accounting. That was fine with me.

Affection for My Alma Matter? I Don’t Think So.

I never really felt any affection for Hofstra. It seemed like every time I turned around, they had their hands out for money. I nearly got kicked out for late payment of tuition twice, yet they never failed to send requests for donations to my family. I get those requests now. They come to my house with full-color booklets about the newest on campus building and latest event, along with a summary of what the entire alumni student body has been up to — well, at least those members who bothered to provide updates. I used to provide updates once in a while, announcing a new book or providing information about my latest endeavor. They even featured my helicopter charter business in one issue. But the way I saw it, I struggled enough to pay them when I was a student and they never cut me any slack when I had trouble coming up with the dough. I didn’t owe them a thing.

I’m Not the Only One Who Doesn’t Care. But at Least I’m Still Breathing.

But when the reunion material arrived, I decided to fill it out and return it. I was curious about my classmates, curious about what they’d been up to all these years. I even toyed with the idea of blowing off my helicopter gig and going out for the reunion.

But when the reunion materials arrived today, I was glad I’d made the decision I’d made. Accompanying the “sorry we missed you” letter and donation request form was a thin booklet titled, Congratulations to the Class of 1982 on your 25th Anniversary. In it were photos as “bios” from 59 students (including me). I’d known two of them well — one of them is my step cousin. The photos were right out of the yearbook, with current photos added for the folks who had bothered to send them. Few had. Most bios lacked any amount of imagination, simply stating what degree the person had earned during his stay at Hofstra and whether he had gone on to earn additional degrees. Marriages to college sweethearts were mentioned more than a few times. Women were sure to mention how many kids they had. It was pretty boring stuff; only about 5 people wrote bios that actually brought readers up to date. (I was one of them, as you probably guessed.)

What was more tragic was the “In Memoriam” page after the bios. It listed 54 classmates that are no longer walking on this earth. 54! Sheesh! Almost as many dead ones as ones who bothered to respond to the reunion notice. And remember, this is a 25-year anniversary — not a 50-year. Most of my classmates are under 50. That means that at 54 of them died before their 50th birthday.

Now I don’t know how many people were in the class of 1982. I know that the School of Business, which was my slot at the graduation ceremonies, had hundreds of students in it. There had to be at least 2,000 students in the entire class. And the alumni association got reunion responses for just 113 of them — 54 of which were dead. Can you say apathy? And I thought I was alone in my feelings — or lack thereof — for the school.

And how many people actually showed up for the May 20 party? I hope they didn’t rent a big hall.

Flying "Into" the Grand Canyon

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A dialog about the idiosyncrasies of flying helicopters in certain parts of Arizona.

I just spent the last 30 minutes or so cleaning up my e-mail in box. I have the nasty habit of not filing or discarding messages as quickly as they come in, so there were over 300 messages to wade through. I’d read all of them and flagged some. I wound up deleting about 1/3 of them, filing another 1/3 of them, and leaving the rest for another day.

Among the e-mail messages I found was a dialog between me and another pilot, Robert Mark of JetWhine. He’d e-mailed me to ask a question and although I normally don’t answer questions sent to me by e-mail — I prefer using the Comments feature on this site so the exchange of information can involve and possibly benefit others — I did answer his. Although I’d like to get the exchange out of my e-mail in box, I want to share it with readers, since I think it has some interesting information.

So here’s the exchange. I’ve mixed Robert’s questions with my answers to make the exchange easier to follow.

Robert:

As a helicopter pilot out west, I wondered if you might be familiar with this Grand Canyon topic.

Do you know if it is correct that tour copters operated through the tribal reservation run to different standards than those that are based elsewhere?

The Chicago Tribune ran a story about the Canyon Sunday and claimed the tribal-operated copters can dip well below the edge of the cayone on a tour where others can not.

It sounded pretty odd to me.

Me:

Helicopters operating on tribal lands with appropriate permits can actually LAND at the bottom of the canyon. This, of course, is on tribal land belonging to the Hualapai and Havasupai tribes in the western part of the canyon — not in the main National Park area.

Please send me a link to that article if it is online. I’d like to read it.

Robert:

Just happen to have that link to the Tribune handy.

So then as a tribal copter, do their pilots train to different standards if they only fly there?

Me:

No, they’re not owned by the tribes. They’re owned/operated by other companies, like Papillon and Maverick, both of which operate in Vegas and at the Grand Canyon.

I worked for Papillon at the Grand Canyon. Training for GCW (Grand Canyon West) consists of spending a day or so with another pilot, learning the route and getting the feel for the density altitude situation. It’s hotter than hell down there in midsummer. Anyone can do it, but they don’t normally train women because of limited housing out there. That’s one reason why I never learned.

Don’t think it’s a big deal. It’s not. Each flight is about 6 minutes long and you’re doing ups and downs all day. The canyon isn’t as deep there as elsewhere in the park. And it isn’t as if you’re cruising up and down the canyon all day. You’re not. Just ups and downs on a preset route. Tedious stuff. Flying the South Rim is far more rewarding.

Thanks for the article link. I’ve flown out there in my old R22. The article describes the place pretty well. It’s unfortunate that many Vegas tourists think GCW is “The Grand Canyon.” It’s just a tiny part of it — and not even the good part.

Robert:

Sorry, but I’m kind of dumb on Native American issues.

Me:

Don’t feel bad. A lot of people are.

The reservations are self-governing bodies within the U.S. In a way, they’re like they’re own countries. They make their own rules, but do have to answer to the U.S. government for some things.

Robert:

So these are regular helicopter tour operators that ALL get a special exemption to do whatever this writer was talking about then? And that comes from FAA or is FAA essentially not involved because it is tribal land?

Me:

Yes, the helicopter operators get permits from the tribes. When I say operators, I mean the companies, not the pilots. They pay a fee to the tribes that’s based on operations (takeoffs/landings), facilities (like landing zones next to the river), and other stuff. Theoretically, my company could apply for (and get and pay for) a permit to do the same thing Papillon is doing. But since GCW is a 2-hour flight from where I’m based, I haven’t tried.

Closing Note:

Since the opening of the Skywalk at Grand Canyon West, I’ve gotten a number of calls from people interested in flying out there. It’s a two-hour flight from the Phoenix area and I’d have to charge about $2K round trip (for up to 3 people; not per person). But the alternative is a 5-1/2 hour (each way) drive. For folks with money to spend, I can turn a two-day excursion to the middle of nowhere into a pleasant day trip. Still, I don’t expect many takers. Not many people are willing to blow $2K+ on a single day of fun.

Some Thoughts on Religion

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And a few books to back up those thoughts.

In trying [desperately] to catch up with the RSS feeds I follow, I stumbled across a three-part series of excerpts from Christopher HItchens’ new book, God is not Great.

Lately, religion has been on my mind more than ever before. Our country is being led by elected and appointed officials that repeatedly claim that their faith in God is what guides their decisions. And we’ve been sucked into a war where religion is the motive or justification for extremists to kill themselves and others.

I’ve never been a religious person. I’ve always believed that doing the right thing whenever possible is far more important than praying or going to church or skipping meat on Fridays during Lent. I’ve always been satisfied to let others believe what they want — as long as they don’t try to make me believe.

But things are different these days. Religion is causing deaths. Deaths of innocent people. Deaths of patriotic young men and women who go to Iraq with the misguided belief that they are protecting America. And it hurts me — a thinking person — to see so many lives lost or ruined every day in the name of religion. In the name of God.

Am I the only person seeing it this way?

Religious Literacy

Religious LiteracyI’m currently reading Religious Literacy by Stephen Prothero. The book is really two books in one. The first part of the book explains how important religion has been throughout the history of the United States. With the country’s Protestant background, religion was taught not only at home, but in public schools. As time passed and immigrants arrived with other religions, less religion was taught in school. Supreme court rulings that stopped school prayer pretty much put an end to religion in school. As a result, Americans have what Prothero refers to as a religious illiteracy.

It’s interesting to note here that Prothero makes a very good distinction between teaching religion and teaching about religion in school. While he apparently agrees that school should not be used to preach religious theories or convert students to any one set of beliefs, he believes that a curriculum that covers the basics of all major religions would be beneficial. He believes that only through knowledge of what these religions involve — beliefs, rituals, histories — can an educated person discuss and make informed decisions about what’s going on in today’s world. I couldn’t agree more — which is why I bought the book. The President may not understand (or care about) the difference between Sunni and Shi’a Muslims, but I do.

The second part of the book is a glossary of the world’s religions. Important terms are clearly defined, giving the reader a good base of knowledge. I think of it as World Religions 101. And although Prothero is quick to say that the information in Chapter 6 of his book is not all inclusive, I believe it’s a very good start for anyone interested in learning about the beliefs and histories of other faiths.

In any case, I highly recommend the book. Although the first part is a bit dry and repetitive, the second part is sure to fill a lot of holes in your knowledge of world religions. Best of all, Protheros makes no judgments at all, so his book will appeal to believers and non-believers alike.

What I Believe

As I mentioned earlier in this entry — forgive me; I still have a terrible cold and am having trouble thinking linearly with a headache and hacking cough — for the past year or so, I’ve been thinking a lot about religion. And I’ve recently concluded that I’m probably an athiest.

I say probably, because I’ve always been agnostic, even as a youngster. The conscious conclusion that I’m a non-believer was not easy to make. But looking back on the decision-making process now, I can’t understand why. It makes more sense to me that there isn’t a God than that there might be.

Before I go any further, please spare me the irate comments about my beliefs. If you think all atheists will rot in hell, fine. You don’t need to clutter up the comments for this post or send me nasty feedback to warn me. For obvious reasons, I don’t believe that. And if you feel that you can no longer read my books or follow my blog because of my religious beliefs (or non-beliefs), you can keep that to yourself, too. People who feel that way are just an example of what’s wrong with religion in this country (or world). Too many closed minds, too much intolerance.

And, of course, I won’t try to convince believers that they shouldn’t believe. I have a lot of respect for people who can have faith in God or religion — both of which were invented by man. If going to church on Sunday or praying facing Mecca five times a day makes you feel good, great!

But if your religious beliefs are causing you to do evil things — discriminate in employment or housing, deface or vandalize private property, or harm innocent people — it’s time to take a real look at what your God really means to you.

God is Not Great

The God DelusionI’ve been waiting for a chance to read The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins for some time now. (It’s on my Amazon.com Wish List.) I’ve listened to Interviews with Dawkins on the Penn Jillette Radio Show (Penn is an atheist) and on the NPR show, Fresh Air. Although he comes off as a snobbish elitist — it might be the accent — I do agree with much of what he has to say. Listening to his views is part of what brought me to my decision about my own beliefs. It was the first time I’d heard anyone present the atheistic view in an intelligent, educated, and persuasive way.

God is Not GreatToday, I stumbled across excerpts from Christopher Hitchens’ God Is Not Great on Slate.com. One paragraph in the first excerpt really brought things home to me:

While some religious apology is magnificent in its limited way — one might cite Pascal — and some of it is dreary and absurd — here one cannot avoid naming C. S. Lewis — both styles have something in common, namely the appalling load of strain that they have to bear. How much effort it takes to affirm the incredible! The Aztecs had to tear open a human chest cavity every day just to make sure that the sun would rise. Monotheists are supposed to pester their deity more times than that, perhaps, lest he be deaf. How much vanity must be concealed — not too effectively at that — in order to pretend that one is the personal object of a divine plan? How much self-respect must be sacrificed in order that one may squirm continually in an awareness of one’s own sin? How many needless assumptions must be made, and how much contortion is required, to receive every new insight of science and manipulate it so as to “fit” with the revealed words of ancient man-made deities? How many saints and miracles and councils and conclaves are required in order first to be able to establish a dogma and then — after infinite pain and loss and absurdity and cruelty — to be forced to rescind one of those dogmas? God did not create man in his own image. Evidently, it was the other way about, which is the painless explanation for the profusion of gods and religions, and the fratricide both between and among faiths, that we see all about us and that has so retarded the development of civilization.

This is how an intelligent person looks at religion — all religion — from the outside. And — fortunately or unfortunately — this is how I look at religion these days, too.

Needless to say, this book is now on my Wish List.

Why Tell You?

I don’t know what I’m hoping to achieve by presenting my thoughts about religion here, in this blog. I think it’s just my way of getting things straight in my own mind.

Please remember that this blog began back in 2003 as a personal journal — my way of recording the things that go on in my life and mind. I think this entry is in tune with that purpose. Years from now, I’ll look back on these words and remember what I was reading and thinking in these sad, confused times.

But maybe — just maybe — my thoughts might help a few readers clear their minds on these issues.