Unscrupulous

I read an article about an online contest  for the "Most Photoshopped Magazine Image."  Redbook took the prize
with this heavily heavily heavily retouched shot of already-hot-without-Photoshop Faith Hill. You can see they
chipped away at her shoulder, rib cage, face, made a right arm out of the flesh they clipped from her left ... if you
look closely at the better/stronger/faster Faith, you'll see that even her earrings are slimmer.

But nobody even told me there was a contest! Had I known, I'd have submitted the raw negatives in my possession from the cover shoot for this month's issue of Piece magazine, because they make this Redbook scandal look rather quaint:


This sort of photo manipulation only adds to the already-unrealistic expectations and negative body image syndrome (NBIS) suffered by women and girls throughout our culture. I'm just looking out for the children, here.

Impeach

From Sidney Blumenthal's article in Salon on the Scooter Libby commutation:

Since 1776, on every July Fourth, the Declaration of Independence has been posted in public places, published in newspapers and read aloud. Its bill of particulars contains these two passages defining royal tyranny and justifying revolution:

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.
... For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments.

Happy Fourth.

Bliss

An Oscar Mayer commercial came on last night where the wienermobile is shown heading down the road on its way to a big spelling bee. Later in the spot we see the contestants spelling BO-LO-G-N-A, but first we get to watch the giant hotdog driving into an underground parking garage.

“There goes the huge wiener into the tunnel,” Jude said, literally nudge-nudging me, then glancing, then repeating, “driving that big hotdog deep into the tunnel.”

“Um-hmm,” I answered.

“I’m gonna stop joking around with you,” she said, arms folded. “You don’t appreciate my stuff. I guess I’m going to need to sharpen up my material before we head off to your big family reunion Banterfest 2007.”

My baby believes in giving jest a rest, that’s true. Instead she’s focused on the world around us, on people, and on every beautiful thing that catches her eye. She has no patience for bad service or bad driving, but she feels genuinely for anybody who’s been harmed or mocked or who's received some good news. And she can spend a great deal of time (believe me) admiring and absorbing a piece of art.

When I’m touched by art, I immediately want to know more about the artist. Jude, though, just wants to know where she can see more of the art. Art is like food for her, while for me it’s like conversation. For Jude, conversation is conversation – talk of joys and troubles – and food, by golly, is one of the fine arts. You should see the food she cooks for us. It’s beautiful. That’s why, for me, having Jude cook us a meal and then sit down to talk over it is the best thing I can imagine.

I fell in love with Jude the first moment I ever saw her. I thought she was grounded (she is) and I thought she was sultry (verily, she is). On one of our first dates she brought a nice pinot noir over and I didn’t have any wine glasses, so we drank it out of the bottle, shyly wiping the lip with our sleeves as we passed it back and forth over our lasagna.

We don't have kids, and I don't think we will unless somebody leaves one on the stoop. But Jude raised Tony and Lacey, and now they both have kids so we're like renters instead of owners; we just have to return them, clean and on time, with the tanks full. They love Jude because her heart is rich with experience and they can sense that she's experiencing them. She makes them feel safe and she comes up with endless arts and crafts projects for them, long after I'd have put them in front of the TV.

Early in our relationship, she talked me into quitting a job I hated, and she moved with me all the way to Virginia, leaving behind everybody she knew in the world. My Dad told me once that a relationship requires submission, and I only came to understand that with Jude (again, verily!). There’s nothing either of us wouldn’t give up for the other’s happiness, understanding instinctively that it’s worth it, that we actually gain from it. On July 4, 1999, she married me and it still amazes me that, every day, I find I love her even more.

Pappa Bear

Dad and I were talking on the phone a few weeks back. He was telling me about the new dust control system he's installing downstairs in his shop area, and I was saying, "Really? Really?" I had no idea of all the vacuuming stuff you could put in, and I wasn't exaggerating my enthusiasm.

What can I say? I love my Dad.

If you want good ideas, have a lot of ideas

If you named your kid Reverend Doctor Captain, he could say, "That's Mr. Reverend Doctor Captain to you, sir."

Now what will we do?

Guess. Who. Died: Charles Nelson Reilly.

Jude and I were at this vegan diner today having some stuff with chili piled on it, and watching all the people. We were saying how pleasant it is that we all like to entertain one another, with our hairdos, costumes, comedy routines and Big Speeches.

So, CNR is gone now. Did you know he won a Tony for "How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying?" Me neither -- read it on CNN. I only ever saw him on Hollywood Squares. Anyway, thanks for everything, CNR.


Now, to entertain you, I've gathered some of CNR's classic Hollywood Squares moments here:

What are "dual-purpose cattle" good for that other cattle aren't?
CNR: They give milk... and cookies, but I don't recommend the cookies.

Jackie Gleason recently revealed that he firmly believes in them and has actually seen them on at least two occasions. What are they?
CNR: His feet.

According to Robert Mitchum, one thing has ruined more actors than drinking. What?
CNR: Not drinking.

Was Snow White a brunette or a blonde?
CNR: Only Walt Disney knew for sure.

You've heard of the phrase "A pig in a poke"...what's a "poke"?
CNR: It's when you're not really in love.

According to experts, the worst time for sex is right after...what?
CNR: Surgery.

True or false - a pea can last as long as 5,000 years.
CNR: Boy it sure seems that way sometimes.

Which of your five senses tends to diminish as you get older?
CNR: My sense of decency.

Back in the old days, when Great Grandpa put horseradish on his head, what was he trying to do?
CNR: Get it in his mouth.

Who stays pregnant for a longer period of time, your wife or your elephant?
CNR: Who told you about my elephant?

The Meaning of Life

A couple of years ago I had a lunch conversation with a friend that still sticks with me. We were eating meatloaf sandwiches at the Airport Café, a few minutes from the shop where we both worked and we were talking about The Hottie, a woman he’d dated for a few weeks now. He didn’t even bother to tell me her name because he assumed she was too good for him and that, when she realized this, her name would disappear anyway, right along with her.

A few months earlier he’d bought a Porsche. He'd found it on craigslist.org and financed it with eLoans.com. They FedEx’ed him a check. He credited that car with winning him his presumed-doomed Hottie relationship, and he was telling me they’d driven it down to Napa for a four-day weekend. He was routinely taking her to $400 dinners, buying $100 wines, $300 Coach bags … swimming pools, movie stars. And I asked him during that lunch whether all of this was sustainable. He said, “I don’t know. I doubt it.” But of course the answer had to be, “No.”

Right away, though, I wondered why I would ask such a stupid question. Was I just trying to knock him down? As somebody who professes to have practiced a little Buddhism, where do I come off asking if something is sustainable? So I apologized for being a killjoy.

He said, “No, I honestly don’t know how far I’m willing to take this thing if she doesn’t hurry up and dump me. I’ve actually thought about borrowing against my house.”

I said, “Jesus, I thought I was a romantic. What ever happened to just jumping off a cliff?”

“That’s after she dumps me.”

I’ve always tried to find meaning in life through relationships with other people and through projects. I don’t believe in God, but I do see value in service and sacrifice, and certainly in love. The connectedness that can come from a good conversation or from rigging up a good system is, for me, where all the poetry is. I’m excited by the idea of Great Things, but I’m also very, very pleased when I see a really good birdhouse. So here was my buddy, eating cold meatloaf, talking about burning through everything he had and calling it a candlelight dinner.

I thought: is it more beautiful to recklessly risk everything for love, or to cultivate wisdom and open-hearted exchange? Or is this like asking whether Spring blossoms are superior to Fall foliage?

On Memorial Day, and knowing only one person directly involved in a war, I think this: for those swallowed up by something so big as war, may they feel that life is rich.

Jude with Isaiah, Kailey, and Sammy,
whose Daddy is in Iraq.

And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

From “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”
T.S. Eliot