Gravitas, Sophistry and Presidential Timber vs. Kindling

Gravitas...

In a campaign steeped with so much surreal sophistry, I have been searching for gravitas. I was eager to watch "Meet the Press" this morning. Distinguished former JCS and Secretary of State Colin Powell was the featured guest. I was anxious to hear what he had to say because technically he's a registered republican like me and also, I have the highest respect for this man. I've always thought him to be a reasonable, brilliant and sensible gentleman who would, in my opinion, have made a fine president in his own right.

As Tom Brokaw lead him up to the $64,000 question, Powell offered a studied assessment of both Sen. McCain as well as Sen. Obama. His points were concise, topical, thorough and I personally agreed with just about everything he said.

I've always personally put a lot of stock in Powell's opinions because he's seen things from within the inner circle of government and the military. Like a lot of Americans, I feel as if I can trust this man's view because of the positions he's held and, frankly, I always thought Bush threw him under the bus.


These are some of the most challenging times America has ever faced. No matter where you find yourself on the political spectrum, most of us can agree that our plate isn't simply full, stuff is spilling off of it in huge dollops. Our plate can barely contain its contents at the moment.

I've had serious and deep conversations with people I highly respect in these past few weeks, people I have known for years and put a lot of stock into what they believe., their opinions and views. Anyone who reads this blog or knows me personally understands that my own parents top that list. I can't think of two humans I respect and have more faith in than Barbe & Maxine Cook and I say this because in my 48 year history with these folks, they have been right something like 99.99999% of the time with a negligible margin of error. It is, in fact, uncanny how often they are correct on a myriad of subjects. These aren't knee-jerk, radical or prejudice people. In my estimation they have managed to be progressive without ever abandoning their beliefs or ideals. I would trust them with my life and have on several occasions. On a few important occasions they have, in fact, taught me to be more open and thoughtful in my approach to pivotal situations in raising my kids and they've gently guided me from being too rigid or judgmental. They have lead me not by preachy sermonizing, but by their impeccable example and graceful guidance. My parents may not be perfect, but they're just about as close to it as I've ever known.

I've also had talks with others that I respect including close friends and even my exhusband, Tim. I have a long history of observing his compass and I have known him for twenty-nine years. I respect him, too, even if I don't agree with him on everything.

I've searched for answers, read volumes of text and listened intently to interviews, all three presidential debates and one vice-presidential debate. I have practiced as much objectivity as I possibly can and in doing so, I can't help but continue to feel strongly that Barack Obama is the better choice. It's tough for me, coming from a predominantly conservative background.

I must say, however, that McCain's selection of Sarah Palin did make it easier and she continues to validate my initial feelings about her as being someone about as qualified to be vice-president or president as my dog or three cats. I continue to look at her biography and recent campaign performance as comic book in nature with even less substance. I can't for the life of me figure out what John McCain was thinking in choosing her. I read one headline out of the UK this morning that asked the question, "Is Sarah Palin Presidential Timber" to which I immediately thought, my gosh, she's not even presidential kindling.

Honestly, I believe that at his core, John McCain is a good man, a decent, respectable man who is inarguably an American hero in every sense of the word. He has served his country far more brilliantly than his own campaign staff and advisers have served him. Having said that, I just don't think McCain was well-qualified to be the next president because Bush's "legacy" has been too painful and the thought, there mere idea of four more years of a continuation of his policies is more than many of us can stomach.

Like I said, I was deeply torn before McCain chose his running mate but with his choice of Palin, I pretty much realized not voting for McCain wouldn't be as difficult as it might have been had he chose a more appropriate and well-qualified running mate. A pistol-packing hockey mom might make a colorful friend to grab a cup of "Joe" (and not Joe the unlicensed plumber who owes back taxes) with, but to consider this woman who uses phrases like "palling around with terrorists" or sometimes reverts to a syntax only Yoda could understand and appreciate, is beyond horrifying. I'm not in the slightest bit elitist, but I would prefer our national leaders to be articulate and knowledgeable and yes, even have more than a page or two of stamps in their passport. I don't necessarily fault Sarah Palin as much as I do the McCain Camp for inserting her in a position she is completely ill-prepared or qualified to assume. It kind of strikes me as the type of non-forward thinking that landed us in Iraq: Yes, doing so made a huge splash and bold statement, but once we situated ourselves there and whoops, didn't find any WMD's, what do we do now? In a sense, Palin's selection was big on "splash 'max" factor'" but after the ripples receded, what does she bring to the table? It turns out that her "international vision" is restricted to the horizon looking West across the Bering Sea where, on a clear day, you can see maybe not forever, but sometimes catch a glimpse of Russia.

That is literally and figuratively short-sighted and very scary. We're in a high-tension situation that doesn't allow us to affect short-sightedness. We need the ability to see as far and wide as we possibly can - even further than the tip of Russia from across the Bering Sea. As Secretary of State Powell said this morning, we need someone "transformational". In this race, for me at least, that translates Barack Obama and Joseph (Joe the Senator) Biden. Someone who doesn't look as if he's going to blow a blood vessel from sheer, barely controllable rage, but who is deliberate, studied and forward thinking, who doesn't spout off in anger or legislate based on emotion.

So I was grateful for Powell's thoughtful assessment of both McCain and Obama this morning. It was well-presented and elaborative and while his endorement may not be the clincher for a lot of folks, it did comfort me and validate my feelings. No matter where you are in your thinking on this election, it's worth listening to Brokaw's interview with Powell.

This has been such an internal struggle for me - this crossing party lines on a presidential level, grappling with my hopes and dreams for the future of my now grown up kids and, someday, their own children and what I hope and pray their future looks like. It's interesting how our vision changes with our station in life. I now find myself thinking of grandchildren that might appear at some point in the next five or seven years. I want it to be as safe and dream-laden as I feel it's been for me.

It's never been perfect and of course it won't ever be, but it's been such a stellar country to call home and there is such a profound pride in being an American. We're such a diverse country and independence courses through all of our collective veins. As Americans, we're not simply encouraged to dream, but it's tacitly expected of us to be dreamers, to reach for our own stars and we're told from birth that because we're Americans, ANYTHING is possible and, as evidenced by our myriad achievements, many of those dreams evolve into a personal reality. We're Americans. We do great things a lot of the time. What a history we have and yes, we're in a tough spot right now, but we've been in tough spots before. I don't know if I fall into one of those geographical areas that Sarah Palin has determined to be "real America", but I think "real America" isn't just in a few pre-determined locations but everywhere there are Americans. We take it with us. How arrogant of Palin.

I was talking to my manager Friday and noticed he had a "YES WE CAN - NC FOR OBAMA" yard sign. I remarked on it and he said I could have it - he has one in his yard. Me, with a sign like that here on McCain Street. Even my pro-McCain parents have remarked on the other signs on our street touting the republican nominee, saying they don't think much of placing yard signs regardless of their choice. At first I found that odd and then, after a little reflection, it was quintessential "Barbe & Maxine". It's how they are about everything - not showy or "in your face" and certainly not pushy at all. They don't need to post signs just as they never force-fed anyone their beliefs, religious or otherwise. They live what I have come to refer to as a "quiet calm". It's why they have a plethora of friends far and wide. It's also why their family, both immediate and extended, respect and adore them. I grew up watching them "walk the walk" and rarely heard them talk much about it. Truly, my parents embrace "to be rather than to seem". Never offensive or obtrusive and never, ever in your face. Rare are the people who can effectively comingle idealism with common sense. For my parents, it is like breathing. Seamless. Remarkable.

When I told my Dad about the sign in my car, he looked at me and I quickly said, "Of course, I'm not going to put it in the yard...it's going in my office upstairs.". That was a close one! And that's where it will go - on the wall of my office as a memento of this election. A reminder of this moment in our history as we prepare to make even more of it. I want to remember this time when my political beliefs, feelings and thoughts have felt so challenged. Someday, I want to tell my grandkids of this election and they will be bored with it I'm sure, but maybe they'll look at that sign someday and say, "What's up with that old campaign sign, Grandma?". I will smile and launch into a story of the time way back in 2008 when I wasn't exactly sure what was what and who was who. By then, the Obama-Biden presidency (if they win as expected) will be one for the history books and I hope, I dearly pray, that my hunches and feelings and hopes and dreams will maybe even be exceeded.

On this Sunday in late October, days from this historical election, it is leap of faith. Regardless of how it all goes, let's hope for a safe landing on the other side and because we're Americans, on 5 November, we'll rally behind our next president and get to work with him, whoever he is. That's what we do.

That is who we are.

Warm Reminders of Roberta, Thoughts on Cause and Effect and a Happy Birthday Shout-Out!

Of Palin...and an Exceptional Parrot

One year for Christmas, I believe it was 1993, Tim bought me an African Grey Parrot. She was a mere eight weeks old and was still being hand-fed which is really the perfect age to establish a close bond with an African Grey. In terms of sheer intelligence, African Greys are the "Einsteins" of the parrot world. They're vocabulary and gift for mimicry is simply astounding. Not only can they repeat complete sentences, they can do so in a voice that will make you swear it's the person they are imitating.

I remember many times in Florida, hearing Roberta scream in a voice that sounded more like Justin than Justin, "Mom! Come here Mom! Quick!". I would race down the stairs more times than I care to admit, knowing full well Justin was in school, thinking..."Oh no! Is Justin OK?". I mean, her mimicry was dead on! Roberta would also take great delight in calling the family dog, a big lumbering yellow lab named Blossom, who would fall for Roberta's tricks, same as me. Blossom would scamper from wherever she was, thinking one of us was calling her, only to find a room devoid of any human family members, and a parrot perched on top of her cage, looking innocent, though I always figured Roberta must be thinking..."what a stupid dog! fell for it again, did you?". Roberta probably thought the same of me.

I must confess something; Roberta had a Republican handler, though she didn't have index cards.

Did you watch the vice-presidential debate Thursday Night? Were you one of the lucky ones to catch a wink or a shout-out? I have to give credit where credit is due. I can't imagine how Sarah Palin pulled herself together amid such low expectations and managed to stand up there before a huge television audience and, at the very least, form complete sentences in a quasi-coherent fashion. I have to give her credit for showing up, no question about that. She didn't look terribly addled and certainly seemed to warm up to the bright lights, even though she dodged or simply refused to answer most of the questions. Ms. Palin was poised, showed some style and even some down home "Joe Six-Pack" humor, but I don't think you win debate points for that.

Aren't we just finishing up with a "regular, Joe Six-Pack" kind of guy? Hey, I voted for Bush and I have to tell you, that didn't work out so well, did it? It feels to me like "Joe Six-Pack" turned out to be "Bud Extra Light". I dunno, I think we've had enough of that. It hasn't worked out so well, has it?

And one more thing, watching the VP debate brought back fond and affectionate memories of Roberta, my smart, feisty little maverick of an African Grey. Most of the time, I'm sure Roberta had no clue as to what she was saying, but we, "her handlers", used to coach her and feed her lines and, let's give a parrot credit where credit is due, she would pick up a great deal of her repertoire by passive listening to rote phrases. When we moved from Florida, we gave Roberta to our vet tech who loved that bird. It was sad saying goodbye to her. We never got around to teaching her how to wink or send "shout-outs", but I'm betting she could have mastered that as well. What an awesome parrot. Darn right you betcha she was!

One of the things that make me so unnerved to consider the very real possibility that Sarah Palin might wind up as commander-in-chief, are index cards. What will happen if, when she's conferring with world leaders, she looks down and doesn't have the right note card? If our collective well-being lies in our leaders being experienced, educated and have an solid understanding of foreign and domestic affairs, I would like to think they have more to lean on than an index card. A "house of cards" is a flimsy defense. It doesn't convey a level of comfort for this writer. Frankly, it's something that's scared me for, how long has she been at this, five weeks? Like, yeah.

Another point that struck me in the VP Debate, is Ms. Palin's dismissal of the importance of determining the causes of global warming. She wasn't as much noncommittal as she was totally incurious in discovering the key practices that have imperiled our environment. Gov. Palin was reluctantly agreeable that we needed to discover ways to protect the earth and try and reverse some of the damage that's already been done, but to completely find no valid reason or desire in discovering the exact causes of environmental devastation made me happy that she's not in charge of something like cancer research.

Can you imagine if the world of oncology was interested only in treating the symptoms of a disease without discovering the etiology? What if there was no cancer research? We would have made absolutely no significant gains in lowering mortality rates, survival statistics or improving quality of life. It is from research and cellular detective work that new weapons of cancer destruction are created - learning how to use monoclonal antibodies, harnessing the body's own biological immune system which allows us to move away from bombarding fragile systems with toxic chemicals and radiation. The face of cancer treatment has changed significantly because of research and ongoing discovery. Many treatments are now tumor-specific because researchers have studied the disease process and it is only in adding to this knowledge that gains will continue to be made. Specifics matter. Points of origin teach us essential information so that we don't repeat past mistakes. Knowledge is power.

The same principle is true for just about everything. We can't repair this economy unless we look deep into what has created the recession; sloppy lending practices, a Wall Street that fed corporate CEO's scurrilous salaries and bonuses; teaching our kids to live on a "credit and carry" basis, rather than pay for it as you go and if you don't have the cash on hand, you don't really "need" it. The line between our "needs" and "wants" has become unforgivably fuzzy.

When I was a little girl, and even after I wasn't such a little girl and had my own family, I would watch as my Mom would be putting away the leftovers, and I would laugh almost in a punkish, glib manner, as she would save even 3 or 4 tablespoons of leftover corn, beans or even spaghetti sauce. I'd think, "how silly she is. saving a few bites of something when all she has to do is just open a new package next time.". I could never understand (and certainly didn't bother to try), why my parents saved EVERYTHING (and I do mean EVERYTHING). Things in our home weren't replaced until they were completely and totally inoperable and even then, they would be deconstructed to their essential parts with the thought that "this piece or part might come in handy someday...". I remember being chastised not too long ago for idly tossing away the empty inner plastic wrapper that had contained cereal, only to find that my Mom had fished it out of the trash and washed and rinsed it because "it makes a great wrap for vegetables or cake. you can do all kinds of things with these great wrappers! Better than those expensive Ziploc bags!". I'd shake my head again and again, never quite getting it.

In fact, my parents are children of the last "great depression" and obviously, it wasn't all that much fun and anything but "great". My mom and dad recycled long before it became fashionable and not because they were scratching for money. It made good sense to them and, as is often the case they were, and are, right. I remember years ago when my Mom got a new dining room table but rather than get rid of the smaller one, she simply had my dad saw off the legs of the older, smaller one, sanded and painted it and was proud as punch of her newly appointed coffee table. And it is still our coffee table. I would never have thought of doing that and to my parents, such DIY money-saving tricks are like breathing. They learned from the school of "how many uses can we think of for this?", employing creativity, cost efficiency and style, not to mention the satisfaction of knowing they are being prudent stewards of their money and the earth.

For far too long, we've become a nation that thrives on consumerism and now our consumerism is beginning to consume us, but to those who have lived through tough times before, this new economic downturn was never a matter of "if", but more a function of "when".

Guess what? It's "when".

I never fully understood that growing up under the tutelage of Barbe & Maxine Cook would teach me such incredible life lessons, but I am profoundly grateful. I remember last year when my Mother beamed as I created a pot rack from an old bicycle wheel. In some small way, I imagine she must have been thinking..."there may be hope for her after all.". I believe I got a gold star that day.

Now, the upshot of tough times is that it causes us to change and, generally speaking, this is usually for the better. While we may be a country of rampant consumers, we're also an inventive lot, and that will no doubt serve us well in the coming months and years. Human beings generally don't change their ways unless they're in pain or, at the very least, feeling a modicum of discomfort - this is true of alcoholics, addicts and yes, even out of control spenders with an addiction to credit. We learn things when we face tough situations and some of the greatest gifts spring up from those times. America is in the middle of a redirection which is probably long overdue. If we can get out of our own way, work hard and think before we act, we'll probably be just fine.

However, I will submit to you, that if Maxine Cook were to find herself the winner of the North Carolina Lottery tomorrow (which would never happen because she's never bought a lottery ticket in her life) and presented with a check for 29 million dollars, I would bet the farm that it wouldn't change her habits one bit. She'd still save the cereal bags, those last few bites of vegetables and though she might buy a new piece or two of furniture, you can be certain she would find a useful purpose for the one retired. That's as basic to my parents nature as their goodness - it is who they are. Living around these two is a daily eduction and I'm a pretty blessed daughter.

Take Me Home...Road Trip!

We held a formal family council this weekend and came up with the idea of visiting Justin and Stephanie for Thanksgiving and yes, that means we will be spending the holiday in West (by God) Virginia. I can't wait! Well, mostly, I can't wait to see my son, but also, I can't wait to walk around downtown Charleston with him, revisiting my old haunts, seeing the streets I used to know so well, walking on the grounds of the capitol, looking at all that has changed and what has remained the same, in the company of my favorite (and only) son who will turn 22 six days before Thanksgiving. We're all looking forward to it. Now all I have to do is figure out who I can get to come in my house and take care of my six aquariums and 3 cats. Cassie may be going with us, though she doesn't know it yet. I have to check with Justin on that but I can't bear the idea of leaving her behind and besides, she's never visited WV. Cassie, like Justin, is from Amarillo, Texas so I'd like to show her that part of the country. We shall see.

On the automotive front, the car is still in the sick bay of Aamco and release isn't slated until at least Tuesday or Wednesday. I'm over the initial shock, I guess, but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it. What can you do? You grit your teeth and what I do is think of all the things that could be worse and, as it turns out, there are many things that could be far more distressing. My family is healthy, we're all fine and still very blessed in the things that count most. I keep reminding myself of this. I know it's true.

Not to belabor the point but there was one moment in the debate, however, which I didn't find "adorable" or cute. Remember when Senator Biden was talking about his family, and understanding what it was like to sit by the bedside of a child, not knowing if he would live? Biden became emotional when he described this, clearly overcome from the recollection of that painful memory. When it was Gov. Palin's turn to respond, she launched right into lauding the maverick ways of John McCain. There was absolutely no reverence or even one kind word of empathy regarding what her opponent had just shared.

The next day, I wondered what the press would have had to say if the roles had been reversed and it was Gov. Palin who had opened up in the debate with a similarly personal and painful moment from her own past and what if Biden had ignored it and launched into peppering Sen. Obama with a flurry of accolades. You can bet it would have made a ripple in the MSM (mainstream media). He would have been labeled cold, uncaring or worse.

I guess those mavericks don't have time for much compassion. It's kind of a shame, really, because it seems that in a time when the economy is tanking and we're in the middle of a dangerous war, with so many Americans forced to live without health insurance from their employers, that we could use all of the compassion we can muster. Times are hard and it doesn't cost one penny to care about each other. That's the kind of "bail-out" that has to come from within. Congress can't fork that over and it shouldn't be in short supply, but apparently it is.

Republican, Democrat, Independent or undeclared, no matter where any of us fall on the political spectrum, we're in for some interesting days as election day nears. What we learn in the next 30 days, in terms of plans, campaign tactics and tone, will be paramount in making an intelligent, wise choice as each of us head into the voting booth. It's a real soul-searching time for Americans on so many fronts. No matter who's side we eventually land, let's pray that whoever inhabits the White House has the wisdom, Faith and spiritual guidance to lead us back to where we need to be, and can coalesce us into a united front on the right path.

And one last thing - today is the birthday of one Tim Parker! Happy Birthday to you and best wishes for an exciting new year!

It's About Time...And A No-Nonsense Celebrity Endoresement...

...for a quick update!

Spring is in full bloom here on the coast - and I couldn't be happier. We are gently sliding into my favorite of all seasons - hot, humid, bright, shiny SUMMER! Yeah, baby!

Next week will be a busy one.

But first, some BREAKING POLITICAL NEWS!!!!

Check out this video: Beware: Celebrity Endorsement







OK, so I love Tom Hanks. I thought this was a very respectable, no frills, well-done endorsement that nearly slid beneath the radar. North Carolina's Primary is this Tuesday, 6 May, and it will be interesting, to say the least, to see how the two democratic candidates fare in this southern state that I call home. I have my own preferences on how I would like to see things shake out and I am cautiously optimistic, but in this primary season that has proven to have more twists and turns than a mountain road in West Virginia, nothing is a sure thing. I'll be glued to MSNBC this Tuesday Evening and will probably be engaged in swapping text-messages with my daughter as she watches from her home on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. I'm sure we'll have more than our usual lunch-hour catch up call. I even have dinner decided for that night - I'm going to stop on my way home from work and order a mansion salad with blackened mahi-mahi and two servings of blue-cheese vinaigrette dressing to go. Of course, there will be coffee and probably a quart of jasmine iced tea to go along with it. Tuesday is already shaping up to be a real nail-biter.

But back to news closer to home...

On Wednesday, my son moves into his first apartment. I already miss him but, let's be realistic, it's only two miles away so hopefully it won't be TOO traumatic for me. As for Justin, he's way past excited.

We had a nice lunch today at Henry's and during the course of our meal, I acquiesced the love seat which currently sits in my office (at home) in exchange for his agreeing to take Sylvester and Princess with him to live in his new apartment. So not only will I be out of kids, but my cat population will be cut in half. I'll still have Magellan and Felix and, of course, my big, blond dog Cassie. And of course, with five aquariums, I'll have PLENTY of fish, however, Justin casually mentioned that an aquarium would make a nice housewarming gift. I think there was a hint in there somewhere.

On Friday, 9 May, I will drive to Fayetteville and collect my Manhattan-based daughter, KATIE! She's riding the rail (Amtrack) for a week-long visit. I have been put on notice not to arrive unless there is a LARGE, fresh sweet southern iced tea in the car. Since I don't like to live dangerously, the tea will be ready for her when she arrives. I just can't wait to see her! We're all excited!

How Katie can stand to be on a train for eight hours is beyond my comprehension. She loves "train people". She tells me they're a great group - all of them members of her "I hate flying" club. Nevermind that she could be in Wilmington, on a direct flight from La Guardia, in about an hour and thirty minutes and actually be sitting in our kitchen drinking FRESH iced tea in the time it takes that silly train to get from Penn Station to Philadelphia. I no longer even make a case for how the trip from the airport here in Wilmington is about fifteen minutes (even in Wilmington traffic!), and that the dull trip from Fayetteville to Wilmington is a whopping two hours of some of the dullest scenery I've ever been witness to. Factor in that Amtrack is rarely on time - she herself coined it quite colorfully, "A railroad of lies", due to it's inability to stay on schedule. That matters nothing to Miss Katie. As a card-carrying member of the "Infrequent Flyers Club", she only goes "wheels up" when there is no other alternative, as she will do later this summer when she and John fly to Paris for a week's vacation. But I guarantee you, if it were possible to ride a train through a tunnel beneath the Atlantic, Katie would be first in line for a ticket.

Of course, it doesn't really matter how she gets here or where I have to drive to collect her because, in the end, it's all about seeing Katie and having her in our midst for a glorious week. As I drive to Fayetteville Friday Afternoon, I will remind myself that the trip back to Wilmington will be far more interesting with her delightful and ascerbic company and I'm sure we'll sing to her iTunes, gossip, exchange news and views and, well, it doesn't get much better than that, so of course, I'll be right there in unlovely Fayetteville to meet her as she steps off that silly train and into my hug. Even with gas currently topping out at $3.60/gallon, she's more than worth a tank of liquid gold. You can bet everything you own that I'll be more than thrilled to be her chauffeur.

On Sunday, 11 May, Tim will be coming down and he will be able to see both kids at the same time in the same place! I guess it will be a family reunion of sorts. He will be staying at Justin's new apartment and Justin's excited to host his first house guest. I know both kids will enjoy catching up with their dad.

As for me, I have been working, working and WORKING and loving it. Sherry and I have been moving furniture, rearranging desks, hanging art and making the office feel more casual and down right beachy! Yes, it's still a drug and alcohol assessment office, but it feels more "fun" and while most of our clients are never happy to find themselves forced to consent to a clinical evaluation of their substance abuse, we really do try and make it as painless as possible. I'm lobbying for the addition of an aquarium to the waiting room. I think I'm wearing Sherry down (and plying her with chocolate) so it could happen.

I am happy to announce that I have health insurance! Thanks to Vicki, who patiently steered me toward the best choice, I can now afford to get sick and/or injured, but she advised against it. Even with health insurance, she felt it's still best never to have to make use of it and, quite frankly, I have to agree with her. But I do have to tell you, it's one less thing to worry about at night right before I fall asleep - wondering how I'm going to afford some looming catastrophic illness without health insurance. I'm so blessed that David C. steered me to Vicki. She's been so fun and wonderful to visit with during our many conversations, and several sets of phone tag, that not only did I find a trustworthy broker, but I made a new friend in the process. Not a bad deal at all!

In other medical news, my mother is still in the midst of testing, evaluations and attending various appointments to determine the best course of action for her degenerating spine but, in between all of that, she still has managed to keep fresh iced tea at the ready and there's always wonderful food in the kitchen. I guess it's true that you just can't keep a good woman down. My mother is not only a good woman, but a dynamo. I hope it's genetic.

My father has been busy working on the lawn and the yard looks like velvet. He replaced a couple of sprinkler heads, with the assist from our wonderful neighbor Tom, and so now the sprinklers are back in action and spraying in the right direction, at the right time. I also have a pool specialist trying to find the source of the leak in our pool so hopefully it won't be too long before that problem is taken care of and I'm so ready for a nice long swim.

No luck yet on finding a nice sailboat that comes equipped with a knowledgeable, handsome captain, but hey, it's early in the season. I'm keeping my eyes open and you never know when the right boat might come along. I remain optimistic.

So that's what's been going on in our neck of the woods. I wish I could tell you that I had found the perfect man and been on a string of dazzling dates, but the truth is, my life has consisted of working and tinkering with my aquariums. I haven't even managed to do any real writing in the past few weeks. I have, however, found time to enjoy some fun lunches with friends, make some great AA meetings recently, and I always love meeting our clients.

Actually, I feel so blessed. For the first time in something like FOREVER, even at the end of a long day, I come out feeling so amazed I get to work with a wonderful woman who teaches me something new every single day, and there is this deep sense of peace because I truly do believe that the work we do means something. It's a sense of satisfaction I've never really known before, but for as painful as it often is to have to confront diseases of addiction, miracles can, and do, happen. Seeds are planted.

The clients I see after attending 20 or 40 hours of treatment are often vastly changed from the downcast folks who arrive in our office for their substance abuse assessment and prepare to attend, generally with much trepidation, their first class. Smiles appear and people share during our group sessions of positive changes and they report to us some of the early gifts that living sober can and does deliver. For many of these people, it is essentially a life or death proposition. No one is hopeless. Miracles are possible and probable if we stay the course. Love is a powerful force and in some form or fashion, this is illustrated to me every single day. What a gift. What an abundant, priceless gift.

Say What You Need to Say...

"Take out of your wasted honor.
Every little past frustration.
Take out all of your so-called problems.
Better put 'em in quotations
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say
Say what you need to say..."

Here are a few things I really need to say.

I played a video this morning and then, well, I played it again. It struck me as powerful and maybe it will you too, if you click on it. I like the directive. Like almost everyone within reading and listening distance, many thoughts circulate through my mind at warp speed as the minutes of a day click off into the oblivion of history. Those moments seem to tick away so much faster with each passing year. Does it feel that way to you, too? Time becomes a runaway train on the express line and some days all you can do is just hang on, hope for the best and try your very best not to blink. You can hardly chance a blink.

February was a powerful month, but aren't they all really, when it comes right down to it? If they're not, they really should be. I like it that most of them are.

So, let's see - on this sunny Sunday in early March, glorious March - the month that delivers Spring, - what do I want to say as I sit here reflecting on the recent passage of time? In no particular order, I think I'll go the route of free-associating because it just seems like the right format for this moment in time.

This past January, I was talking to one of my good friends and in the middle of our conversation, one of his sponsee's (AA speak), came up to him and gave him a gift. It was an unusual present and at the time I just thought how kind it was for this young man to give my friend a going away gift because this friend of mine was preparing to make an ill-advised and curious move to Greenville, South Carolina. (There's no ocean in Greenville, SC.)

The gift was one of carved wooden letters and those letters spelled out the word "GRATITUDE". It was something you could set on a bookcase or table and it was just unusual, but not terribly surprising. We speak a lot about gratitude in Alcoholics Anonymous. That's what a bunch of people who've experienced a miracle in their life feel quite often - gratitude.

My friend returned to Wilmington last weekend. I'd been working six days a week for the past three weeks and my brain felt fried. I just wanted to hole up in my office, watch reruns of the democratic debate and eat Smithfield's chicken wings and drink a gallon or two of jasmine iced tea. When he called and suggested lunch, I wanted to decline, but for some reason, I decided it would probably be better for my sensibility to get out of the house, even though it was cold and blustery and staying in was an almost irresistible option.

For some reason, as I was waiting for him to come over and pick me up, it crossed my mind to ask him where he had put his carved gift, the one that spelled out "GRATITUDE". As soon as that thought crossed my mind, it struck me like lightning - where do any of us put our gratitude? Where do I keep my gratitude, and I'm not talking about a handsome, carved depiction of the concept, but the real thing...where do I essentially keep my gratitude?

I thought about that all day. It's just a great question, for me at least. I never got around to asking my friend where he had situated his present because I became much more wrapped up in considering the placement of my own and what, in fact, is my gratitude comprised of?

What am I grateful for? What are just a few of the many things I need to say?

I am grateful to Sally, Amy and Jonathan for celebrating my birthday with me at Henry's. Sharing time with these friends was such a wonderful way to turn 48! The food was almost as delicious as the company and conversation and the warmth that ensconced us. Friends sharing good food, thoughts, ideas, opinions, insights, and kindness. It meant so much to me and I smile every single time I think back to that evening. I think of it a lot.


Never can I say I've run at of words, thanks to my friends and writers Amy and Jonathan. Oh no, they ruined that for an excuse. They presented me with a beautiful copy of Webster's Third New International Dictionary. It's FOUR INCHES THICK! It even has a CD! Can you imagine a better gift for a writer from two writers? I was so thrilled with it that I actually took it to bed that night and leafed through the pages of this powerful volume.

Gosh, just having this leather bound edition on my desk makes me feel I'm a lot more talented than we really know I am. It's great for building self-esteem! There is no end to the gold packed in these pages. I was so honored. It's so heavy! In fact, I think I had to ask Jonathan to carry it to my car after dinner. Maybe it will build my mind AND my biceps? However, it wasn't inscribed, so when they come over next time for a writer's meeting, I must ask them to remedy the situation and if they say they have "no words", (though I can't imagine these two ever running low on words), I shall simply flip the pages open and direct them to pluck some out. :)

I'm grateful to my handsome son, Justin, for making my birthday and every single day of my life special since he popped into this world. He gave me three beautiful angelfish for my 55 gallon aquarium and he wrote words in a card that made me smile and cry, all at the same time. I adore this fellow more than I can write and he has taught me so much. Sometimes I look at him and I'm sure my heart will burst.

One week after my birthday, on Valentine's Day, I came home long past dark from work. I was cold, tired and I nearly bypassed my office in order to just fall into bed, but I knew I had to feed the hungry mollies in my office aquarium and take a passing glance at my e-mail. When I walked into the room, I noticed a pink envelope on my keyboard and just beneath it, a heart-shaped box. I opened the card and realized that I'd received the best Valentine's Day present I'd ever received - a card in handwriting I'm intimately familiar with: "I love you, Mom! Justin". No longer did I remember that I was cold or I'd just spent ten hours in an office. I forgot that I was tired. Right about the time I read the card, he appeared in my office and delivered a long, warm hug which was sweeter than the chocolate contained in the box.

Three years ago such a scene would have felt impossible. We were barely communicating - he was 18 and I was irritated and scared by his behavior. How far we've come and how intensely proud I am of how much he's grown up. I admire his compassion, his dry sense of humor and his kindness and especially his stalwart sense of justice. He's taught me a great deal about standing by friends when they stumble and I don't really know why that should come as a surprise to me. Justin stood right beside me when I stumbled a few years ago. He is wise beyond his years. He is one my heroes, as is his grandpa.

Probably five nights out of seven, I swing by the drive-thru at Smithfield's and generally order a few chicken wings and a LARGE iced tea. I love their chicken wings and sweet iced tea but that's not really what keeps me coming back. When I place my order in the speaker, I know instantly if I hit "pay dirt" because I recognize the voice. The voice I'm speaking of is Mary. I don't know Mary's last name, but I have come to look forward to seeing her irascible smile. Seeing Mary at the drive-thru is like sunshine. She tells me of her latest lottery winnings (she wins a LOT!), what she's been up to, how she is doing and then she promises that when she "wins the big one", she will hire me as her assistant and allow me to take care of the stuff she's too busy to deal with, being a millionairess and all.

I realized the other day when I was pulling away after a "Merry Mary Encounter" that I always smile when I pull out. The chicken wings are delectable, but it's the moments spent with Mary that makes the detour worth everything. I really love that lady. She's a day-brightener and I would wager that she doesn't even realize it. I'm very grateful for Mary, even if she never wins the powerball. Her smile is worth a million, and then some.

As we know from past entries, there are good pirates and bad pirates among us. Last summer I l discovered that I love sailing, sailboats, and that few things compare with becoming one with the wind, water and sky. Sailing touched me in a way that can only be defined as spiritual and I plan to do more of it.

Life is good. If you're on a beam reach, it's charmed.

In addition to sailing, I gleaned something else. I made a very wonderful friend who is, without question, a "good pirate". She's tenderly tough, talented, artistic, wise and funny. Through the course of our e-mail exchanges we discovered we had so much in common. I haven't been the most faithful e-mail correspondent lately to anyone, but I always get excited and thrilled when I see that my friend Bobbi has written. We finally met in person last October and it was truly as if we had known each other for something like forever. Hopefully this year I will get to meet Sofi (her fur child) and her beautiful sailboat which she keeps in Oriental. Hey, we have big plans, and the Panama Canal is NOT out of the question! Two crazy women on the high seas - adventures in every port - I can see it happening and I could find no better company than Bobbi. I'm so grateful for her. I'd set sail with her in a heartbeat.

They say that politics makes strange bedfellows. I don't know if that's true or not, but I do know that this season of endless primaries have been a huge source of interest and entertainment, phone calls, text messages and e-mail links between my daughter Katie and me. We have daily briefings - generally when she's taking her lunch hour. She calls me from the streets of Manhattan and we dissect the latest debate performances of Obama and that woman that's trying to run against him (we're both Obamamaniacs), we speak of the poll numbers, sift through the latest breaking news and dish about what life must be like for the folks clinging tenuously to the slowly sinking Clinton ship who refuse to go gentle into that good night. During debates, coverage of notable speeches, we keep a running text-message commentary. Most of her remarks make me laugh out loud and trust me, Hillary wouldn't appreciate a single one of them.

I adore her sardonic delivery and acerbic observations and especially her passion. Katie is never, ever tepid about anything and doesn't mince words in stating her position. You should see the e-mail she sent to MSNBC's Chris Matthews last month. I was stunned and I was so proud of the way she expresses and articulates her thoughts and feelings.

Even more than our shared interest in this never-ending primary campaign season, I am grateful that I have such an open, easy-going relationship with this young lady. Just as I am with her brother, I am so proud of the independent and forthright young lady she has grown into and I marvel at her courage in making it in Manhattan and doing it with such eclectic style and grace. Katie is a constant source of amusement, pride and sometimes even bewilderment for me. I wouldn't trade her for all the jasmine tea in Sri Lanka.

I have a friend in Amarillo who writes me now and again and whenever I see that I have an e-mail waiting to be opened that is written by Jim, well, I know that before I finish reading the words he writes, my heart will be touched. He never fails to deliver.

Sometimes he shares with me the goings on in my favorite West Texas town, or how wacky the weather has been, but somewhere in there, will be a line or two that I am better off for having read as he talks about what's been on his mind, memories he's been reliving and the observations they provoke, and his crystal insight will prompt memories inside of me that in some way parallel his experiences. Sometimes, he attaches beautiful photographs of things like ice clinging to the fragile branch of a tree as the sun hits it from only the perfect angle.

Last year, Jim sent me a hand-carved flute for my birthday and carved on that flute was a Kokopelli. Now, initially I didn't know the name for the symbol but in a strange twist of synchronocity, when my friend Bobbi was visiting with me in my office this past October, she admired the flute and then noted that Kokopelli was the name of her sailboat. Synchronicity indeed! Coincidental? Hardly. There are no coincidences in my world. There probably aren't any in yours either. I prefer to think of it as celestial design. It's totally a God thing.

I am reminded of the words spoken by Fred Rogers in a commencement speech he delivered to Dartmouth College a year before he went to heaven:

Our world hangs like a magnificent jewel in the vastness of space. Every one of us is a part of that jewel. A facet of that jewel. And in the perspective of infinity, our differences are infinitesimal. We are intimately related. May we never even pretend that we are not.

I think of those words when I consider that a fine man in Amarillo, Texas sent me a beautifully hand-crafted flute with a curious looking symbol carved into it and how, eight months later, a woman I didn't even know existed when I received that precious flute, immediately noticed it hanging on the wall in my office and with delight told me that her sailboat was named in honor of that symbol. Fred Rogers was right, of course, we are all intimately related and we seem to lose our way if we pretend that we are not. I try very hard to remember that but I'm human and I forget it far too often.

I work with a woman who has taught me a great deal about strength though she'd deny it. Sherry works even more hours than I do, and her life is complicated beyond measure, but no matter how exhausted, tired or whatever events may be swirling uncontrollably in her realm, I watch as she treats each one of our bruised clients with kindness and care. In spite of dealing with several serious health issues, she somehow manages to push every personal challenge she deals with off the table and when she is doing an assessment, her focus narrows to that person as she determines what level of treatment will serve him or her best. Most of her workdays stretch into nine or ten hours and her lunch breaks are generally filled with errands or attending to details rather than any form of a relaxing break. I marvel at her strength and I am touched by her heart. Sherry inspires me every single day and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I see it every time a client leaves her office, walking a little lighter and filled with the seeds of that most precious commodity...hope.

On February 6th, I walked into my office and found the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers with the sweetest card. Even in the endless tasks that she tackles on every given day, she somehow managed to remember my birthday. If I had her schedule, I wouldn't remember my birthday or anyone else's! She is truly a giving, caring and loving woman and it is an honor to work and learn from her. We laugh and talk quite a lot and I feel so grateful for the time I spend in her office.

The amazing thing about Sherry is that she doesn't quite grasp how talented and strong she truly is, but it's certainly not lost on me or the clients she attends to on a daily basis. She makes a positive difference in so many lives and I hope that someday she is able to grasp how pivotal her role is in making a difference to those who sit in her office for an assessment. No one ever looks forward to a drug and alcohol assessment and many of the people who visit us are scared, pretty beaten up emotionally or living in a deep and scary state of denial about the alcohol use that threatens their existence. As I watch Sherry take care of these folks, it much more resembles a ministry, a calling of a higher order, rather than a process of social work. I'm pretty certain she's an angel. I'm very grateful to be in her orbit.

Another angel in my life sent me a bouquet of beautiful daisies and they were waiting for me in my home office when I arrived home the day I turned 48. Michel has been my angel for nearly ten years. He is family, he is dear and how much I adore and respect this wise and talented gentleman. I'm convinced his installment in my life was celestial in origin and I am grateful for him in more ways than I can say. His is the little voice I always hear whispering to me at the end of each assignment...in a decidedly (and sometimes stern!) French accent..."Susie, are you sure this is the best you can do? Don't you think that sentence is poorly constructed? Bouf!". I swear, it's true. Michel is always challenging me to be better than I ever believe I am capable of and though many, many miles separate us physically, I never leave this house that I'm not aware he's in my head and heart, always near the surface of my thoughts.

I think of Tim Parker when I consider "say what you need to say...". He was my husband for almost seventeen years, he's the father of my kids and he's an amazingly resilient and indefatigable fellow. Yes, it's true, the marriage faltered and a divorce resulted, but there was this one night I remember, around the time it became obvious that we were splitting up and some of the dust had settled. Tim had already moved out of the house and had dropped by one evening to see the kids. We were standing outside talking and he said that he imagined we'd eventually wind up being friends someday. At the time, I thought he was out of his mind to consider such an possibility, but in fact, his words came to pass. I'm just so grateful that they did.

Through the years, my former husband has been a sounding board, my tax consultant, a co-parent I could phone for advice when I wasn't sure of a decision dealing with the kids, and he didn't run and hide and pretend he didn't know me when I joined AA. A lesser person would have taken the opportunity to blast me with a litany of my shortcomings. Tim did none of that. Truly, he's helped me sort things out from time to time and how blessed I am that he has. Compared to many couples, we had a startlingly civil divorce and in the early years skirmishes were few and far between, but along the way, I have grown to respect him so much and his ability to rebound, career-wise, may well be the stuff of legends.

I can appreciate how weird and odd it may be to say this but, as former husband's go, Tim is tops. In the most absurd twist of fate, though I never truly imagined myself divorced, I managed to have been blessed with an ex-husband who is exemplary and very much a stand-up guy.

Every now and then the kids and I will say, "Boy, am I enthusiastic!", mimicking one of his most frequent pronouncements he cheerfully blasted us with, generally very early in the morning, when neither Justin, Katie or I were terribly enthusiastic about much at all except the prospect of finding more sleep. In the time that has passed since our divorce became final in 1997, I've come to realize that it's absolutely OK to remember with warmth and a smile, the good stuff and happy memories and in reality, quite a few come to mind from time to time. I am grateful for each one.

Looking back on it, I can't help but remember his optimistic intonations with no small measure of admiration. I respect Tim and not simply because he IS the father of Katie and Justin, but because I truly to believe he is an honorable man with impressively high ideals. I am grateful to know him, to have produced two kids with him and as I watch his relationship evolve with the grown-up version of our children, I see many qualities in them that could only have come from his donation to the gene pool. I wish him well on his new adventure and expect he will meet with a success that will be hard-earned and well-deserved. Thank you, Tim - looking at Katie and Justin - I think we did pretty well!

"Say what you need to say...", John Mayer appeals in this song from the movie, "The Bucket List". I haven't seen the film yet, though Justin, Stephanie and I made plans today that we would see it together in the next week when we each have the same two hours free.

What I need to say is that there are days that I forget where I placed my own personal "GRATITUDE". Friday Morning was one of them. I woke up and my bed was wet. I immediately thought of two possibilities: Either I had sprung a leak or one of my cats had. After realizing that it wasn't me and didn't seem to be the cats, I realized my water bed was the one with a problem. Oh no! My bed was sinking! I love my waterbed. How could it turn on me like that? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful that my bladder was fine and the cats should be thrilled they weren't responsible but I LOVE MY BED!!!!!! It reminds me of sleeping on a sailboat. I love sleeping on a sailboat.

I was miffed. Irritated. At extremely tangled loose ends. Cold and very, very wet! It must have been obvious by my facade because my son quickly walked over to me as I stood in my room wondering what in the world I was going to do. Basically, I wanted to both cry and scream in no particular order. He put his hands on my shoulder and quickly reminded me that this is no huge catastrophe. So the bed leaked. "Mom, we're a glass half full kind of people! C'mon, it's not the end of the world! We'll fix it!". And he set about doing just that. He quickly acquired a hose to drain the remaining water and then went over the mattress with a fine tooth comb. He somehow managed to find a small tear and set about patching it but, unfortunately, there were many small pinpoint holes springing up all over the place and it was finally decided that I would have to order a new mattress bladder. He sent me on my way to work with a fresh large iced tea which I managed to spill down my front before even making it out of the house. What was it with me and spills and leaks?

I got in my car and was in quite a state for a mile or two and then I thought about how my son had dealt with my over-exaggerated over-reactive angst. "We're a glass half-full kind of people!", he enthusiastically reminded me. How brilliant of him. My water bed springs a leak and Justin springs into action to calm me down (and honestly, I'm generally pretty even-keeled in a crisis and a tropical storm!). But for some reason, when faced with a completely benign occurrence, I wanted to crawl under the covers but I couldn't because my bed was going down alarmingly fast! How silly, I thought as I drove further down the road. What an over-reaction. That's when I realized that I had misplaced my "GRATITUDE". Thank you Justin, for helping me remember to find it. It may have been the end of the mattress, but it was hardly the end of the world.

I can't possibly write a blog entry on GRATITUDE without mentioning two people who are at the top of a very long list and who are the very reason that we are, as Justin suggested, a "glass half full kind of people!". My parents are the human embodiment of the word "GRATITUDE" and they aren't even members of AA! I don't think anyone has ever told them to practice being grateful because it's just so intuitive to both of them. They live and breathe it. They passed it onto me and when it sometimes slips out of my hands, my kids are right there to catch it with a wry aside from Katie or a warm hug from Justin.

I must also add that John Goulah, Katie's boyfriend, is an equally welcome addition to the clan. But, then again, I might be biased - how could I not care about a guy who bought me Stephen Colbert's book, "I Am America (and So Can You!)" for Christmas? I mean, such lofty, thoughtful, literary taste, not to mention that he's the tallest person I know who kindly allowed me to stay at their apartment this past November when I visited NYC. I have to say that both of my kids have managed to find wonderful people to fall in love and share their lives with and that's no small accomplishment. Maybe I should study them and learn a thing or three.

To my friend David C., who's "GRATITUDE" inspired this post, well, let me just say that I still think you're one of the strangest and craziest people I have ever met, but there is no doubt in my mind that you have a heart of gold and an intellect that is downright scary. Thank you for making me have lunch at The Oceanic last Sunday and walking on the pier with me to breathe in the Atlantic Ocean. I could go on, but your head would only burst and I know how much you like to maintain a state of humility so I won't embarrass you but I want you to know that I appreciate your insights, observations and generosity. I am very grateful for your friendship and crazy sense of humor.

"Have no fear for giving in
Have no fear for giving over
You better know that in the end
Its better to say too much
Than to never to say what you need to say again."

This didn't turn into the short post I intended. It was even interrupted for a few hours because Justin and Stephanie invited me to meet them downtown for lunch at the Copper Penny. As I was walking into the restaurant, my cell phone rang and Katie was on her way to Brooklyn to spend the day with her friend. We're both looking forward to the primary results in Texas, Ohio, Vermont and Rhode Island and hopefully the results will be to our collective liking. But more than that, I am grateful on so many levels for this family of mine, thankful that my daughter rings my phone often, thrilled that my son treats me to lunch, always honored to share coffee and everything else with my Mom and Dad.

"Even if your hands are shaking
And your faith is broken
Even as the eyes are closing
Do it with a heart wide open
Why?
Say what you need to say..."
~ John Mayer

I want to remember to keep updating my GRATITUDE list and refer to it often. It's what "glass half full kind of people" need to do in order to stay that way. Thanks for reminding me of that, Justin.

Katie, this photo is for you. Looks like the whole house is coming down with Obamamania. Justin wears his allegiance on his shirt. Pretty cool, huh?

I'll have more to "say" soon. Feel free to "say" something right back to me. In the meantime, I'm going to try my very best not to "lose" or "misplace" my GRATITUDE.

The Audacity and Pomposity of Politics...

UPDATE: I found this great quiz on USA TODAY. Try it. Did the results surprise you?
MATCH THE CANDIDATE!

I have a confession: I am a closet political junkie. MSNBC (Tim Russert and Keith Olbermann) and CNN (Anderson Cooper) are my Dealers. Courtesy of their reportage, I have been taking hits of Barack Obama, John Edwards, Mike Huckabee, John McCain, and Rudy Guiliani. Things haven't become so bad that I've been driven to try Hilary Clinton - I mean, I'm not in a "dark" place and that would be the equivalent of "hitting bottom" as far as I'm concerned.

So I've been Googling because I need information. I guess I consider myself a political independent but I've always had Republican leanings, though our present President has pretty much left a bad taste in my mouth with regard for republicans, although I like to think of myself as an open-minded sort. I stood in the rain for almost three hours on a cold November day in 2000, soaking wet but determined to cast my vote in order to elevate George to an office he's turned into a complete disarray. I broke up with George W. Bush several years ago and nearly lost interest in all things political. However, the occasion of the Iowa Caucuses have become my personal excuse for a recent political relapse.

Admittedly and with no apologies, I have absolutely no love for Hilary Clinton. As disappointed as I am with GWB, I can't imagine the pain of having to see her facade or hear her shrill voice pinging from my television set for the next four years. Though I went into the Iowa Caucus coverage knowing next to nothing about Barack Obama, and feeling no affection for John Edwards, I found myself cheering anyone who could unseat her from her self-appointed throne as the implied Democratic front-runner. Whatever Obama or Edwards did or did not represent, it had to be better than anything Hilary could offer and I was more than pleased to watch her uneasily try and pull it together in what was anything but a conciliatory speech Thursday Night after the results of the Iowa Caucus were declared. I detest her. I would cast a write-in vote for her husband before I would ever cast a vote for her, and I have absolutely no respect for him, but the guy is nothing if not charismatic. I find her a few steps below the calibration of repulsive.

But it's odd to find myself cheering on candidates that I know so very little about, and it is because of this that I have been burning up my keyboard in search of answers. I mean, if I'm going to wish success for someone, I'd like to know a little something about them. I would hate to be questioned about my support for candidate X or Y and offer up my reasoning as being, "Well, X or Y isn't Hilary Clinton, and that's good enough for me!". How insane and illogical would that be? I'm not comfortable with that at all. I need information. Facts. A rap sheet. I want answers. I want to see a platform rather than platitudes. Like many Americans, I find myself undecided and confused. I don't care at all what party banner they campaign beneath, or whether they are "red and yellow, black and white". I don't want to know the "spin". I want the truth and that seems to be a very difficult item to unearth and disseminate. Centrifugal force is handy in a research lab, but I honestly think it should be banned in politics.

Does anyone know where the off-switch is on the centrifuge?

Thanks Arianna Huffington, but I don't quite consider you the source of a deep well-spring of truth. You're a marketing maven, but hardly what I'm looking for in terms of breaking news and/or compelling debate. Plus, well, if you must know, your accent reminds me of nails on a blackboard.

Tip O'Neill once said that "all politics is local", and perhaps at one time it was, but that had to be "pre-Internet". In this age of real-time information and real-time MISinformation, it strikes me that "all politics is spin". Spin makes me disgruntled, disoriented and dizzy. I don't want spin, I want the truth. I wonder where it's hiding and I wonder what it is?

It appears as if this is a daunting task, this fact-finding stuff. I have two aquariums in my home and even though the water can look crystal clear, I can sometimes tell that all is not well in the watery world my fish inhabit. For instance, if I notice the smallest change in behavior or note a lack of enthusiasm when food is introduced, I am instantly reminded to examine "the facts". I note the temperature, I check to see if the filter cartridges are spent and need replaced and if both of these vitals check out and yet, for some reason, my fish are acting "fishy", I test the water with strips that report the true condition of what looks like perfectly balanced water and, many times, I am chagrined to discover that the clarity of the water disguises a dangerous shift in pH, or that my fish are finning around in an ammonia soup, too many nitrites, or that my precious black mollies are on the verge of an icky "ick"epidemic because I was trusting that the sparkling appearance of their home meant all was well in their world. After I apply several "litmus tests", only then can I truly decipher the habitability of their aqua-habitat and the true quality of their life. Of course, after I read the results and determine the ranges that need to be adjusted in order to ensure a return to homeostasis, my fish return to the business of being happy fish and behaving as fish are supposed to behave.

Were it so easy in the larger (s)tank of politics. What IS the litmus test? Where can I find those test strips? What's the true nature of the brand of "clarity" being broadcast from this convoluted cacophony of contenders? Who can I trust? Who's hiding something? Which one is speaking out of both sides of his/her mouth and how can I rely on any word that any of these people are saying?

Take the case of charming, "aw shucks" Mike Huckabee. I watched and listened to a round table discussion comprised of Tim Russert (who I unabashedly respect), Andrea Mitchell (covers Hilary Clinton's 'campaign' and who looks tired and so 'over it'), David Gregory (covers Huckabee's campaign and wearing Prada boots), and NBC News Political Director Chuck Todd. I listened as David Gregory was outlining the facts (as he saw them) on Huckabee and most of them were positive and endearing even. And then reporter Chuck Todd said something along the lines of, "but have you not heard what the people inside of Arkansas say about the guy? What his former constituents truly think of him?". Right along with David Gregory, I felt my mood shift. Huh? What? A dark side to Mike Huckabee? I need to know about that. What is being alluded to here that I need to know?

More googling. More wikipedia. More questions. There was that nasty incident with his son, David, ten years ago when his son was somehow implicated in participating in the hanging of a stray dog as he was involved with some activity having to do with the Boy Scouts. I found an article in Newsweek: "A Son's Past Could Come Back to Bite Huckabee". Geez, as if the photo on that site of his son isn't enough to scare you and make you wonder if Mike Huckabee might have married his first cousin, after you get past that, the facts of the story are unsavory and uncovers a situation that involves animal cruelty and the subsequent firing of an Arkansas State employee because he didn't hide the facts very well. What do Arkansans know about Mike Huckabee from first-hand experience that I should know and why do I care that Chuck Norris is grinning broadly behind the candidate as he makes his glowing acceptance speech in Iowa Thursday Night? I don't care that Chuck Norris is backing Mike Huckabee and quite frankly I couldn't help but wonder if there was the "veiled" threat of a roundhouse kick if I choose not to vote for Gov. Huckabee. I really don't care for violence.

What about the candidate's spouses? Do they matter and should they be a factor in the race? Theoretically, I believe the answer is no, but we don't live in "theory". We live in reality and the reality is I need to find something positive about a candidate's spouse. Who's going to have the most profound effect on a future president? His or her cabinet? Get real. The influence will emanate from the person they begin and end each day with and there's no point in pretending otherwise. Judith Nathan Guiliani's face and plastic smile make my skin crawl. She has "other woman" written all over her and she could be the most kind and wonderful person in the world, but that's not what she projects to me. Obama's wife, Michelle, appears poised, intelligent and almost reluctant to be in the spotlight and I like that. Cindy McCain appears as if her face got frozen in a plastic surgery procedure gone awry. Ms. Huckabee looks a little matronly and like some of my elementary school teachers...the ones I recall as being terribly boring.

Bill Clinton is, well, Bill Clinton. I'm sure he would be gracious and entertaining, but I definitely wouldn't feel comfortable if he "watched over" the staff when Hilary was away on presidential business. Let's face it, he's got the brains, the looks, the charisma and the double-coated teflon and she's got...well, she's got to find something else to do. I'm sure she has a personality, but it just doesn't connect very well with "real" America. Do you ever watch her and just get the feeling that she's doing everything she can NOT to explode when she's crossed or contradicted and can you imagine what a mess that might be? I conjure this image of an automaton, with twisted steel springs and nuts and bolts shooting in all kinds of directions...a lot like a dirty bomb.

I'm confused. I'm slightly cynical and maybe I feel a little jaded by it all, but I also understand that I need to be engaged in it because whoever wins the next presidential election could have a major impact on my life and the lives of the people I love and future people I will love (grandchildren). It's confounding, and I swear I am so sick of hearing the overuse of the new buzzword "Change". Hilary Clinton spent untold millions of dollars and hundreds of days in the State of Iowa over the past couple of years, and somehow, Friday Morning, she shares with a reporter how Iowa really doesn't have all that great of a record in predicting who will ultimately be the next president of the United States. Wow Hilary, why did you spend so many millions of dollars and vast quantities of your precious time trying to cajole people into casting a ballot for you? Were you bored? Not much going on in the Senate? At the very least, own your bad performance and sad showing. Just OWN it, already. [For more on the Clintons' proclivity and talent in playing the "blame game", read an article by Steven Adubato, Media Analyst with MSNBC.]

With all due (or undue) respect to Mitt Romney, I would be less than honest or forthright if I didn't admit that his Mormon background bothers me. I've read several books written on the subject of Mormanism and by people who have left it, ("Under the Banner of Heaven" by Jon Krakauer and "Leaving the Saints" by Martha Beck - just to name a couple), that it creates an undeniable discomfort within me to embrace a candidate that practices and believes in the tenets of that sect. Frankly, I'd be just as uncomfortable with a candidate who professed to be a Scientologist, or a follower of Santeria. I realize we're supposed to maintain a separation between church and state, but most of us do care about the beliefs and practices of those we elevate to lead the nation.

It can't be overlooked, in this vast murky tank of tumult, the effects of the "talking heads". As handsome as I believe Keith Olbermann is, or as interesting as I find Tim Russert to be, there are times when I'm convinced the media is just another cog in the political machinery. I like Tom Brokaw and I even share the same birthdate with the guy (though not the same year!), but I don't really care what "his" opinions might be. The most elusive quantity in this election season seems to be the ability to find information without an opinion attached. Pure truth. The opportunity to examine unspun facts and form an opinion based solely on "just the facts". If you think I'm taking the so-called "liberal media" to task, don't even get me started on Fox News' Bill O'Reilly or Sean Hannity. They send my annoyance indices into the triple digits, according to my latest polling resorts.

Presently, I'm looking closely into Barack Obama. I'm reading anything that looks credible to try and get an idea into who this man is and what makes him tick. He certainly has a great education, an impressive wife and two cute kids. I'm only slightly annoyed that he's one year younger than me, but I certainly wouldn't let that become a deal breaker in terms of affecting my decision to cast a vote for a candidate. I suppose it's just an interesting moment to consider that at 47, I am now one year older than one of the candidates running for president of the United States. You know, like the first time you visit a doctor and are deflated to realize he's younger than you are. I hate reminders that I'm getting older because I swear I'm not.

I know this is a very ticklish and sensitive topic to write about, but I'm not coming out for anyone at this point and what I'm wondering is, how do any of us get to the core of the candidates? It's a shameful sham. As for me, I'm going to keep googling and searching and watching and wondering.

Wouldn't it be wonderful to believe in someone without having to figure out who represents the lesser of all evils? Is that still possible? Well, with the current offerings, I have my doubts. It seems to require a great deal of digging to find out which candidate is least likely to jerk us around, lie to us, raise our taxes and usurp our futures the most painfully. Instead of considering which person to vote FOR, I almost feel as if what I'm really trying to uncover is who to vote AGAINST. I know our system of government wasn't set up to work this way, but sadly I feel that it has become just that.

Barack Obama wrote a book entitled, "The Audacity of Hope". In reviewing and learning more about the current cast of characters running for office, it's not the audacity of hope that piques my curiosity as much as the elusive and fragile quality of it's existence. Politically speaking, anyway.

"American REALLY needs you, Harry Truman. Harry, could you please come home?"