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Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Easter 2007 Continued . .

 

I figure we might as well finish Easter of 2007 before moving on to this year.

Here's a shot of the kids Easter Baskets on the mantle, the first Easter morning in our first house.

From left to right: Smiley, LuLu, YaYa.

The kids (naturally) woke up at the crack of dawn to raid the baskets. Note all the unpacked boxes in the background; this is also long before Lisa painted the picture that hangs above the fireplace.

The baskets included 'donations' from the grandparents. The girls, esp. Lu, received Princess themed items, while Smiley got his share of Spiderman.

The set of 'carrots' in the background of some of these pics is a Easter bowling set, with carrots as pins.

Poor Smiley . . there are so many pictures to humilate him with when he's older. These bunny ears were featured in a nekked bunny pose we had professionally done for YaYa four years prior.

In the afternoon it was on to my Mom's house. That's their dog Cocoa, which just happens to be one of the first words both Lu and YaYa ever spoke. For years it was their all-purpose word for 'dog'.

Their has to be kieabalsa, of course, and blessed bread, and coarse horseradish . . .the girls love kieabalsa.

Granted, it's a year later, but from what I remember it was a very nice Easter!

Easter Egg Dyeing - 2007 ???

                                                   

Graphic borrowed from My Extremely Simple Life. Stop by and say hello! 

Yup, you read it right! It's time to make up for lost time. The massive renovations we did to our 1892 home before moving in last April meant I didn't have much time to *properly* post in 2007.

Even so, we stuck to our traditions. Even though we still hadn't had time to put up curtains in every room, we went ahead and did our annual Easter egg dyeing on Good Friday. All the kids we knew were invited - nieces, nephews, friend's kids - as they had been every year since '96 or '97.

The girl in the middle is our niece/Goddaughter.

Smiley was very tired and missed most of the fun.

Lisa's friend Chris brought her kids and nephews too

Chris' brother had helped remodel our house, and I think it made the boys proud to see what their Dad had accomplished.

I include this next pic with no idea of what Easter orientated activity is going on:

You know, I looked high and low for a 2007 pic of my nephew, the original inspiration for the tradition, but there are none; funny, I chastisted him this year for missing the event for the first time. Did he miss last year too?

Here's his sister, my other niece.

And now back to the stars of the show:

I recall being amazed how smoothly and quickly it all went, compared to any number of the previous years. Lisa was quick to point out a lot of the kids were now older, and there were a greater number of kids participating then in say, 1997, four years before our oldest was born.

And the final results, to be divided among the families involved:

A great tradition, one I hope we keep up with the grandkids (and great-grandkids) some day.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Dale Check - A musical thank you!

 I once supervised a great guy by the name of Dale Check. Here's a pic of him at my Mother-in-laws Christmas party in 2002.

He's long since moved on but we've kept in touch. Not so long ago he sent me this letter:

I was talking to a new friend of mine, and telling her aboutcha. We have alot of fun memories don't we? :) Specificailly, Do you remember the time, when I was very hard up for cash, and kinda ran out of food (Of all things)? I told her about the time you cleaned out your kitchen, and gave me the food you could spare. As I was telling this story, it got me thinking, and I just wanted to say...
 
What you did for me is something I will never forget. True friends like you are few and far between, so I want you to know that I am grateful, and if I could ever repay this favor I would jump at the chance. I wanted to take the time to tell you how much that ment to me.
 
Thank you Danny.
 
Very Sincerely,
      Your Friend
               Daley
 
Dale's letter makes my role way more important than it truly was. Many a time, right up until a few years ago, I'd found myselfdirt poor and relying on food either cooked or provided by my parents or in-laws. At the time Dale had no such resource to fall back on, and for one day I filled the void.
 
Consider it  settling a karma-ic score :)
 
Besides, he was a buddy of mine, wasn't he?
 
So what does this guy do for my birthday this year? In addition to taking me out for lunch he strolls into my business singing and playing a guitar - a guitar he presented to me.
 
 
It's much too expensive a gift, but I'll borrow it for awhile :)
 
In return I want to post some music of his. He wrote and played guitar and bass on this track. He plays the drums too (and trumpet and piano) but not on this song, at least on this version.
 
Click on the graphic below to play his song: UPDATE: Uh, I guess not. Click here instead.
 
                                             
 
 
Dale's looking for a solid vocalist for the band he's forming, and/or a rich sponsor to make him a kept man. He can be contacted at fretnoise900@yahoo.com.

Easter - Never this Early Again (well, in our lifetimes)

Here's some interesting facts about this (oddly early) Easter. I'd heard these before but saw them in print for the first time over at Sybil's Village Life journal.

No telling if it's strictly the truth or 60% internet make-believe (not of Sybil's creation, natch), but I'm betting on the former.

* * * * * *

Never This Early Again
=======================

This dating of Easter is based on the lunar calendar that
the Hebrews used to identify Passover, which is why it moves around on our Roman calendar.

Found out a couple of things you might be interested in.

Based on the above, Easter can actually be one day earlier
(March 22) but that is pretty rare.

This year is the earliest Easter any of us will ever see the
rest of our lives!  And only the most elderly of our population
have ever seen it this early (95 years old or above!).  And none
of us have ever, or will ever, see it a day earlier!

Here are the facts:

The next time Easter will be this early (March 23) will be the
year 2228 (220 years from now).  The last time it was this
early was 1913 (so if you're 95 or older, you are the only
ones who were around for that!).

The next time it will be a day earlier, March 22, will be in
the year 2285 (277 years from now).  The last time it was on
March 22 was 1818.  So no one alive today has, or ever will see
Easter any earlier than this year!
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(What I consider) a stunning pic of The Baby

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Honoring America's Last Surviving Doughboy

Again, not the typical Easter post, but this has been sitting in my email since the 8th and its darn time I got rid of it.

Frank Woodruff Buckles is recognized as the oldest surviving U.S. 'Doughboy' - a vet of World War I.

His story is genuinely fascinating. He exaggerated his age to join the Army at 15, headed overseas on the same ship that rescued the Titanic survivors, and drove ambulances in Europe during the war.

Jump ahead to WWII, where he is captured by the Japanese in the Philippines and spends 39 months as their captive, eating all his meals from a single cup. He still holds  the cup dear as a memento of the sacrifices he made for his country.

Now 107, he was honored earlier this month at the White House by President Bush.

A full copy of the article can be found here.

A great story, but its sad to think he's the last known U.S. veteran of the Great War.

I thought hard about finding any personal story to relate about WWI, but largely drew a blank. My paternal Great-Grandfather fought with the U.S. Army, but he died before I was born. I think my only known contact with a WWI vet was a man I helped during a field trip to a nursing home in fourth grade (roundabout 1984).

His name was something like Earnest, and I was assigned to help him with his bingo card, for all the good I did him. I remember liking him because he reminded me of my recently deceased grandfather.

That's it. Not exactly an in-depth connection to the war. Part of the disconnect is no doubt due to the idea that the war was just a 'introduction' to the devastation of the '40's (and of course the last 'big' war fought largely without radio, motion pictures, and newsreels covering every moment). It never received the attention its successor did, that's for sure.

One odd thing. Consider this:

WWI, which always came off as ancient and distant in my youth, as if it should have been prefaced by 'once upon a time, long ago . ." was less than 60 years in the past when I was a small child. 

Now WWII, which appeared so 'current' and relevant in my childhood, stands further away than that in the scheme of things - nearly 63 years since Germany surrendered.

Crazy.

Thanks Frank, for your sacrifices and the service you and your countrymen gave this nation.


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Some Easter Humor

I borrowed the pretty graphic above from This, That, and Hockey, largely because it softens the non-conformist Easter humor below.

Mind you, I have every intention of doing the standard Easter posts later, but for the moment enjoy the chuckle from Hallmark's Shoebox Division. Read 'em at your own risk, but if you do please note that the last one is my favorite (which probably says a lot about me, and none of it good :)

Enjoy, and Happy Easter!

"Only about 20% of what gets turned in gets accepted and becomes a Shoebox card.
Here, we feature the other 80%.

Happy Easter, diabetics!

Enjoy those seasonal stickers.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Let’s celebrate Easter like we did when we were kids, Brother!

I’ll be cool and you be a loser.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It’s Easter, and you know what that means!

If not, your pastor’s gonna be very disappointed in you.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Hope you find at least one good egg this Easter.

However you want to take that.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Easter bunny collects, sorts, colors and delivers millions of eggs every year...

Not bad for somebody who never finished high school.
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It’s Easter! Boobs for beads!

Wait, is that right?  "

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Wisconsin makes the Sweet 16!

                                       

The Wisconsin Badgers advanced to the NCAA Sweet 16 today with a 72-55 win over Kansas State.

I watched most of the game and it wasn't nearly as much of a blowout as the final score indicates. While they maintained a steady lead throughout the time I saw, they didn't blow it open until the final minutes.

They played a steady, VERY physical game and played it well.

Congrats to my homestate Badgers!

Meanwhile my hometown Marquette Warriors, er, Golden Eagles fell 81-80 in overtime to Stanford.

It was a good game with plenty of excitement, even if the wrong team walked out as winners.

Still, to blow an 11 point lead and lose . . yikes.

I hope all Marquette fans join the fold of Wisconsinites rooting on the Badgers in the tournament.

On Wisconsin!

The pizza that currently reigns supreme

I just want to go on record as saying the following pizza (I could not locate a picture) is THE BEST ever.

Chicken Bacon Artichoke deLITE Pizza. Beginning with a cracker-thin crust, it's topped with Papa Murphy's creamy garlic sauce, 100 percent real mozzarella cheese, crispy bacon, grilled chicken, fresh spinach, marinated artichoke hearts, shredded parmesan, and herbs.

 

That is all.

The Baby goes to the Emergency Room

At about 1 o'clock yesterday I wrapped up an interview and took a call from my wife.

"You have to come home. The baby needs to go to the emergency room"

"Why??" I knew the baby had been sick, but that was old news. She'd had yellow diarrhea for days, stuff that smelled like rotting camel, but she'd slept through the night. I assumed that meant an improvement.

"She looks ten times worse than when you put her to bed. She's lethargic, she hasn't taken a bottle in days without throwing up, and she'd dehydrated." Sensing some doubt she launched into an explanation. "She cries without shedding tears, her [soft spot] is sunken in, her skin doesn't bounce back when you pinch it, and she didn't pee all night."

I must have hesitated.

"Look, this is our fourth kid. I know what I'm talking about. The doctor's office is closed for the holiday, the alley is snowed in and I can't move the van, and if you can't come I'm just going to call an ambulance. She needs an IV."

So I left. A neighbor had shoveled a path for her as she waited outside. We wound up at the emergency room of the hospital where YaYa had been born.

They tried to insert a catheter twice to get a urine sample and failed, which isn't the greatest thing in the world to have to watch. Then they attached a bag in her diaper to catch any urine, and set out to take some blood (later returning for another round of samples). In the end they never could get a urine sample.

The verdict? Dehydrated, no doubt due to the diarrhea and vomiting, and low potassium for the same reason (which is odd, as we'd been pumping her full of bananas in an effort to stop the flu w/ the recommended BRAT diet of banana-rice-apples-toast).

They hooked her up to an IV twice and basically we just waited it out. I encouraged Lisa to leave and get to work on time, and I spent the last hour there with the baby. It was actually quite relaxing, minus one blood draw, as the baby fell asleep and I soon followed.

{you know what I hate about taking a kid in to see a doctor? Even the ones without kids act as if they can school you at all times. The pacifier drops . .nurse says "You know that's dirty now right?" . . you're feeding the baby, your fourth child and another nurse stops you, honest and true, and tells you you are doing it 'wrong' and the bottle should be on an angle 10 degrees higher. F* off foks. Dang nanny state.}

And wouldn't you know it, right after we were told she was going home, she filled her diaper with urine.

These events, along with the snow of course, forced the cancellation/rescheduling of our annual Egg Coloring event.

So hopefully she continues to improve and gets over this flu, because I don't want to see her land in the hospital for days like YaYa did for the same reason as a baby.

The Return of Old Man Winter on Good Friday

God must truly follow the liturgical calendar, although he doesn't seem to like it too much. Ash Wednesday featured a nasty blizzard, and so did Good Friday.

Spring officially started the other day, but it felt like it'd been around for a week.

Temperatures in the 40 (F)'s had melted all the snow, every last bit of it. I went around without a jacket, the kids played outside (thereby ruining their clothes by covering them in mud) and all was well.

Then I had to go and think nostalgically on this ferocious winter, and hope for at least a few more flakes before it was all said and done.

Milwaukee, feel free to hang me from the nearest tree.

What my wish brought was 10.9 inches of snow in the city proper, bringing our total for the winter to 95.4 inches/7.95 FEET of the white stuff this season.

Hey, we got lucky - some parts of the area got more.

That puts us in second place all-time in Milwaukee's recorded history.

I'll say one thing for all this snow: I have now officially overcome my long-standing fear of driving in a snowstorm. Now, I could really care less. I don't like it, but I'm not afraid of it either.

However, I'd like to one day have a job where I could look outside, see a blizzard, sigh contently and say "You know, maybe I won't drive across town today. No doubt the office is going to close."

Instead, I went to work, which as I've said before gets awfully busy when the weather gets foul.

In the evening I set out to shovel and darn near slit my wrists. 10 inches, sminches - apparently my alley is the collection point for all drifting snow. I forced my gate open and was greeted by a wall of snow two feet high.

Sonofa***ch.

Naturally my snow blower still worked like crud, so I abandoned it and picked up a shovel. 20x20 parking slab - cleared. Back walkway, steps and porch - cleared. 1/2 of the alley behind our house - cleared.

And then I just gave up.

So as it stands my alley is impassable, Lisa's van, the only means of transporting the entire family at once, is therefore inoperable, and my back is killing me.

But I still can't say I mind all that much. It's been a memorable winter, that's for sure.

How I spent my Birthday: A grade-school essay ? answered by a 34 year old

I had a pretty darn good 34th birthday. Nothing spectacular, like the surprise party Lisa threw for my 30th or the sorrowful alcohol induced haze I expect to announce my 40th, just a consistently pleasant day.

The kids presented me two homemade cards when I woke up, and then Lisa took the girls to school, sparing me that daily drama (God forbid they travel from the house to school without at least one soap-opera worthy meltdown). A few hours later I took Smiley to school, since I don't get to do that on a normal day. Then we dropped off the baby by some Grandparent (I forget which one) and started the day.

Of course, by then the day was halfway over.

We snuck into Benihana's downtown for a hibachi lunch. We'd never been there before, having been scared off by the fierce dinner prices, but lunch was a reasonable $8.75/each.

We'd never had the 'cook it at your table' experience either. We were seated at a large table, right next to a guy with a huge gold grill covering his teeth. That ended any thoughts that I was underdressed for the lunch, but he turned out to be a swell guy with a lot of knowledge of the menu.

While Lisa opted for a fork, I gave a go with the chopsticks. I was pretty successful, up until I flung a bunch of rice into the air and across the table. From that point on it was a fork for me too.

Great lunch, by the way - we'll be back.

As this was close to the Central library where I used to work, I asked Lisa if we could run in for a minute. Because it was my birthday, she consented, knowing full well that for me a 'minute' in either a bookstore or library means an hour, minimum.

I found what I was looking for, bought the kids some books from the used book store inside the library, was surprisingly recognized and greeted by an old supervisor of mine from 10 years back, and interrupted a homeless man masturbating at a urinal.

(For the love of God man, use a stall - comfort is important!)

From there we journeyed to . . . another library, where I picked up some more books.

I should mention that I told dang near everyone in Milwaukee it was my birthday. It was rather childish, agreed, but I found a myriad of ways to work it into the conversation with everyone from store clerks, people in line, a mortgage lender, a business contact, you name it.

[Quote of the day, not funny at all except in the context of having heard me pimp my birthday all day long:

Lisa, in a singsong Barney happy-voice after I apologized for doing something stupid. "Oh, it's all right. After all, it is your birthday today."]

Then, as agreed, I went shopping with Lisa for Easter outfits and basket supplies. This entailed a hellish 90 minute escapade thru both Kmart and Target. At Kmart I did however pick out and buy a gorgeous Christmas dress  for the baby to use this year and bought some used books from a display there. I did ask the cashier what the used bookstand was about - rather ghetto, even for Kmart - and I guess it was a March of Dimes promo.

Might think about mentioning that on the stand itself, before folks assume you're now a glorified rummage sale.

We then headed over to the mall to pick up my standard 16" decorated oatmeal birthday cookie, then to my Ma's to pick up the kids, and home. 

Lacking a set of birthday candles we used a large pillar candle as the centerpiece of my "Happy Birthday" song and then shooed the kids off to bed.

We'd stopped at a liquor store - did I forget to mention that? - with the intention of later getting tipsy watching a DVD I got for my birthday, and then wock-a-chicka-wow-wow.

Except Lisa misplaced my gift, a copy of Family Guy's Blue Harvest, and by the time I was finished destroying the office looking for it the night was almost over. We did fire up another Family Guy DVD she'd bought me (The Untold Story of Stewie Griffin) and managed, if not a wock-a-chika-wow-wow, then at least a wock-a-chicka before retiring for the night.

Gifts I received: the two Family Guy DVD's, dominoes from the kids, an issue of The Writer, a CD of the 'Into the Wild' soundtrack, and a gift card for shoes from my Mom.

[Oh, we did find the Blue Harvest DVD the next day. Not the best they've ever done; I think you have to be a hardcoreStar Wars fan to enjoy it to the utmost ]

And yes, my Mom did call me at midnight.

Friday, March 21, 2008

Lost: Meet Kevin Johnson (Season 4, Episode 8)

This was the last pre-writer's strike episode and serves as a mini-cliffhanger for the season.

It was a solid, straight-forward action episode without a lot of hidden meanings, unless I was too dense to pick up on them.

The show chronicled some of Michael's post-isle life, which in this case goes from the day he left the island after betraying his friends to his arrival on the freighter in late December, a period of perhaps 30 days.

(btw, just in case I've never mentioned it. The show is set in the South Pacific. It is 'now' approaching Christmas 2004. . . will the Tsunami play a role in the show?)

He is distraught with guilt over his murder of Ana-Lucia and Libby, and separated from Walt after the disclosure of his actions drove the boy away

.

Walt now lives with his Grandma, who mentions that Michael and Walt now live under assumed names without mentioning the crash.

Because of this stress he tries time and again to kill himself, failing every time.

Enter Tom, aka Mr. Friendly, aka, my favorite Other, who tells him that the Others have been monitoring the pair and that he will always fail to commit suicide because the island won't let him.

Since Tom seems to be telling the truth, it appears the island is sentient and has the power to stretch its reach across an ocean.

Later, Michael meets with Tom at the Hotel Earle (the name for the manifestation of hell in Barton Fink) where he convinces him to board the freighter under an assumed name - and kill everyone on board.

Two things here:

1. Tom is 'outed' as homosexual, something he hinted at when he rebuked Kate a season or two ago

2. Tom presents 'evidence' that Widmore staged the 815 crash site. Whether he's being honest or not, and I vote 'no', this fills in some holes in the story - like where the bodies came from. Note also that the quiz show answer, right before the 'special report' about 815, was 'Kurt Vonnegut' - a reference to Slaughterhouse Five perhaps?

So Michael, now known as Kevin Johnson, boards the ship. Despite initial misgivings after getting to know the crew he goes ahead with the plan to blow up the vessel. When the counter reaches zero on the explosives a simple flag pops up with a note saying 'not yet'.

He is later contacted by Ben via radio and agrees to do his bidding and become 'one of the good guys'.

Thus, we learn who destroyed the radio room and compiled the info on board; we also 'learn' that Ben uses the lists to determine who are the 'innocents'.

Sayid, learning of Michael's new allegiance, turns him in to the ships captain as a traitor. I suppose we're supposed to smirk at Sayid's stance, given that he's later to become Ben's pawn, but what stuck in my mind was the captain's reaction. Ten to one he's in on the deal.

On the island Locke makes a feeble attempt to appear like a decisive leader, and Ben convinces Alexandra, Karl, and Rousseau to make a run for the 'temple sanctuary'.

Apparently it was a trap, and Ben willingly fed his daughter to the beast. Karl is shot dead, Rousseau is also shot (although we see no blood, so we don't even know it was a bullet that knocked her out, or that she is, in fact, dead). Alex makes an attempt to surrender, although we don't learn if it was successful or not.

So much for Ben being such a good Dad. I guess Alex was no longer an 'innocent', huh?

A good episode, but nothing overly stellar.

 I look forward to the new episodes in late April. Thursday's are gonna be mighty boring without Lost to look forward to.


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Thursday, March 20, 2008

A piece on race in America, featuring Obama and the Houston Chronicle too!

Recently I suggested visiting a website called Stuff White People Like. I labeled it, properly I believe, as a comedy site, albeit one with a non-PC attitude that gently poked fun of Caucasians.

I guess I was riding the cutting edge of a fad, and a darn controversial one too, since this headline appears online at the Houston Chronicle today:

Race-related blog causing controversy
Caucasian site is flooded with hits


At the risk of sounding like a right-wing kook, what  horses**t.

It's not a blog, except in the sense that it's a website where the most current information is displayed on top of the page and older information below. It's not some guys running commentary on his life or his business or what interests him; it's scripted comedy.

'Race related'? 'Caucasian'"? By the dictionary definition, sure, but that headline is intentional race-baiting. The site is not derogatory towards any race (other than perhaps my own) and even then it's intended as comedy.

The older I get, the less the 1st amendment seems to matter in the face of political correctness.

It's a mild COMEDY site people!

To be fair, I blame the editor, the person who traditionally writes the headlines. The writer himself is pretty even-handed:

Dean Rader, a pop culture critic who authors weeklyrader.blogspot.com, says readers flock to Stuff White People Like because it's hip and hot and the place to be seen and heard online. "It's just as much about class and coolness and yuppiness and consumption (as race)."

the boundaries of good taste, readers seem to find liberation in an environment unfettered by political correctness.

Amen.

But he did sneak in one idiotic tie-in.

To date, there have been 14 million hits, reflecting the nation's current obsession with race and gender, too. For confirmation, check out the comments and speeches by presidential candidates Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton just this past week.

Yeah, no. After all, if you listened to the fine words of Obama's speechwriters as their candidate recited them, you'd have learned that we, as a nation, don't spend nearly enough time talking about race.

I am not a black man, I am not a minority. But for what the word of a white guy is worth, we spend far too much time obsessing about race BUT not nearly enough time holding everyone to the same standard.

In the wake of the Obama speech I caught newscast after newscast explaining that this was all overblown, that some (not all) Black churches are, and I quote from memory "theaters of exaggeration"  that reflect the conflict between Christian beliefs and the American experience.

Then we cut to a local story about a mixed couple (black woman, white husband).The woman repeats the national story's point about it being 'theater' and then a very nervous husband says he doesn't mind hearing such things about his own race in church because, after all, this country condoned slavery two centuries ago.

Again, crap.

(BTW - why doesn't anyone ever comment on the fact that it is almost always black reporters dispatched to do stories like this? Locally Mike Andersonhas paid his mortgage by devoting his time almost exclusively to stories set among the black community. Is it just me, or is that not instituional racism right out in the open? Why are black reporters confined to their own communites? Why don't more African-American reporters protest this fact??)

 God help me, I'm going to repeat an Ann Coulter example I heard, and I am no fan of Coulter's over the top 'theater of exaggeration' myself.

 If a white pastor was to repeat the words of Rev. Wright from the pulpit, word for word, without changing a thing, he'd be called a loon and a danger. Now imagine if he repeated them but tossed in some anti-black statements just for fun; imagine the uproar.

It would never end.

Again - oh, and it's almost painful to me -  but again, referencing Coulter, note that in Obama's speech he vilifies his white Grandmother as "[one who] on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe" while excusing Wright's comments as the result of racism he experienced.

A) his Grandmother couldn't have been too much of a racist, given that she raised, fed, housed, educated, and LOVED her half-black Grandson.

and

B) Wright was 12 years old and attending a integrated school by the time Brown V. Education took place. He may indeed have felt the sting of racism, but it was not all-pervasive as Obama hints.

I don't have the time or space to argue this to its full conclusion, but I think its poppycock to say America ignores the subject of race. We don't; what we ignore is that as time goes on it has become more and more a one way conversation.

White racism still exists, to be be sure; it hasn't slipped away into the ether.

But in response we have sadly allowed the establishment of a seperate - but unequal - culture that has a free pass to practice racism of its own.

I thought the goal of generations of Americans, both black and white, was the establishment of an equal society capable of frank and open discussions on race.

What we've acheived is a twisted and incomplete version of that; a divided culture content to spin its wheels without searching for a common ground or a way to improve relations.

And that itself is more frightening than anything Rev. Wright - or even Obama's maligned Grandmother - have ever said.

 

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