Sunday, June 21, 2009


The data was in back in the 1970s, maybe earlier. Change required for survival. Immediate change. Radical change. Red Alert! The Lorax told the children. Walter Cronkite told the World. Things must change.
At the time, the scientists were confident that things hadn’t gone too far, but we needed to start the 1980s with different sources of energy.
Here we stand now, 30 years later and still our power comes from death. Our transportation powered by death. Our lights energy produced from death. Our society based on and fashioned by way of death. Death is the impetus of coal. Death is the essence of oil turned to gasoline. Death brought from the ground where it belongs, where it should stay. Twisting death back to life in our world has put us all in impending peril. Hundreds of thousands of pounds of death brought to the surface of our Mother Earth has polluted the air, the water, polluted all that brings life. Hundreds of thousands of pounds of weight turned from solid to liquid to gas in the matter of a short period of time. The change in the weight distribution has caused serious changes to the planet, we all call home.
Mother Earth who brings forth life is serious ill. Can’t you see the change? Can’t you feel the change? The vibration from our Mother who gives us life is different. The sun on our skin is different. The weather is different. The animals act differently. Everything is different.
How has the planet changed? Has her shape changed? Has the axis changed? Has the orbit changed?
At present it seems that those steering the World destiny are not in touch with the most basic connection. Those that have eyes that see, those that have ears that hear are marginalized, pushed aside instead of allowed to do good things, make good decisions for the Greater Good.
My generation, coming of age, learning to drive at the time of the perilous announcements by the Eco-Movement of the 1970s, we’re okay with returning to walking, or horses, if that be the case. We were also excited about the idea of all energy coming from the Earth’s energy, water, air, gravity. Clean the air, clean the water. Return to Eden was the phrase used regularly by my peers. Now, middle-aged we have yet to be heard, or even considered. The massive generation, the largest ever born, even more than the baby-boom, whose presence was given to smooth the change has been pushed to obscurity, seemingly unheard, but certainly unheeded.

Our Mother weeps for the children that kill her, for they too shall die. Remember the Lorax, he speaks for the trees and the bees and all of these. We say Please and hope that it’s not too late.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Book Review: Another Book

The No Asshole Rule: Building a Civilized Workplace and Surviving One That Isn't

This was a really quick read. It reminded me of the young kid who finally learns a "dirty" word then completely over uses it.

The studies and stats were funny, sad, interesting and mostly kinder to the asshole contingent (in number as well as severity of immorality) than my personal observations.

In the end, the author offered no real reform until the guy at the top is decent and wants to impliment reform. But invites you to write him about your experience so he can use it in future projects. Okay....

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Book Review: Shadow of the Wind

The Shadow of the Wind The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Shadow of the Wind was a tough one at the beginning. I'd like to encourage those not interested within the first few chapters to continue reading.

It wasn't until chapter 10, with the exceptin of a few characters that kept me reading, that I really got into the story enough to say, I'll finish the book. I had figured out what may be the schoking who-done-it part early.

It wasn't until chapter 20 or so when I was glad I kept reading because the answers presented themselves and I enjoyed the way in which the onion peeled, ever doing deeper into the characters with every twist and turn.

It wasn't until the end that I was thrilled that I had caught up to my kids and finished this book. I was pleased with the story and thought wonderingly how the rest of Daniel's life would be.

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Saturday, June 6, 2009

Book Review: Emily Post

Emily Post: Daughter of the Gilded Age, Mistress of American Manners Emily Post: Daughter of the Gilded Age, Mistress of American Manners by Laura Claridge

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Emily Post Daughter of the Gilded Age, Mistress of Manners came into my life on a whim. I clearly judged the book by the cover. I wasn’t particularly interested in Emily Post. Sure, I knew about the little Blue Book that had influence many generations in America. But I hadn’t given the author much thought, in spite of her name being, 50 years after her death, a household name. What drew me to the book was the cover. I absolutely loved the dress.

The photo is of Emily Price wearing the most gorgeous dress. It was the dress she wore for her 1890 debutante ball and I fell in love with the 19 yards of fabric and lace.

Emily Price Post born seven years after the Civil War was raised an only child from a wealthy family who lived on the edges of the elite. Her father was from a well to do Maryland family. Her mother was from a wealthy Pennsylvania coal family. Her uncle was an interesting character into a variety of projects including the building of the Statue of Liberty. Emily played in the foundations of the statue when she was a child, perhaps, a portent of her position in American culture as a foundation of social structure.

During her life time which spanned 80 + years, she saw the advent of the radio and television, transportation go from horse to auto and the launching of Sputnik, women’s vote, women’s rights and more.

Her personal acquaintanceships are the who’s who for many generations. Her personal accomplishments as a clothing designer, landscape designer, architect, interior designer, author, and radio personality are impressive. Her family life lacked directly because of her need to work obsessively indeed to her detriment. Her public persona of “just another working woman” got tiresome and I came to not like the older Emily Post.

Some fifty years after Mrs. Post’s passing her legacy fades because there are entire segments of the population who don’t have a dining room table and will never worry about which fork to use because they eat their food right out of the paper in which it’s wrapped.

But I still love that dress!

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