tiger's fans, rejoice!

zumaya's ahead of schedule.

makes sense: just as his fastball arrives in the catcher's mitt faster than anyone on record, so of course his body must be aligned in that sort of alternate warp-speed universe.

i can't wait to hear "voodoo child (slight return)" and see the young flamethrower charging to the mound from the bullpen.

le sigh, it is enough to make me forget there will still be snow on the ground when the tigers open the season.

we should TOTALLY build more of these!

can hillary and barack finally admit that nuclear power ISN'T clean energy? maybe after reading this? genius.

nuclear power: the most expensive way to boil water; impossible to insure; untold potential for catastrophe; and fantastic collateral costs associated with a shut-down!

fantastic.

ummm, really?

i am beginning to think ralph nader has an uncontrollable ego. and need for constant attention. and is jealous of what ron paul was able to do without a substantial personal fortune and rich pals backing him.

hence, i ask you, why, ralph? what is the point?

that is all.

pat tillman

i can't say anything better than this:

After Pat's Birthday

Posted on Oct 19, 2006

Courtesy of the Tillman Family

Pat Tillman (left) and his brother Kevin stand in front of a Chinook helicopter in Saudi Arabia before their tour of duty as Army Rangers in Iraq in 2003.

By Kevin Tillman

Editor's note: Kevin Tillman joined the Army with his brother Pat in 2002, and they served together in Iraq and Afghanistan. Pat was killed in Afghanistan on April 22, 2004. Kevin, who was discharged in 2005, has written a powerful, must-read document_

It is Pat's birthday on November 6, and elections are the day after. It gets me thinking about a conversation I had with Pat before we joined the military. He spoke about the risks with signing the papers. How once we committed, we were at the mercy of the American leadership and the American people. How we could be thrown in a direction not of our volition. How fighting as a soldier would leave us without a voice… until we got out.

Much has happened since we handed over our voice:

Somehow we were sent to invade a nation because it was a direct threat to the American people, or to the world, or harbored terrorists, or was involved in the September 11 attacks, or received weapons-grade uranium from Niger, or had mobile weapons labs, or WMD, or had a need to be liberated, or we needed to establish a democracy, or stop an insurgency, or stop a civil war we created that can't be called a civil war even though it is. Something like that.

Somehow our elected leaders were subverting international law and humanity by setting up secret prisons around the world, secretly kidnapping people, secretly holding them indefinitely, secretly not charging them with anything, secretly torturing them. Somehow that overt policy of torture became the fault of a few "bad apples" in the military.

Somehow back at home, support for the soldiers meant having a five-year-old kindergartener scribble a picture with crayons and send it overseas, or slapping stickers on cars, or lobbying Congress for an extra pad in a helmet. It's interesting that a soldier on his third or fourth tour should care about a drawing from a five-year-old; or a faded sticker on a car as his friends die around him; or an extra pad in a helmet, as if it will protect him when an IED throws his vehicle 50 feet into the air as his body comes apart and his skin melts to the seat.

Somehow the more soldiers that die, the more legitimate the illegal invasion becomes.

Somehow American leadership, whose only credit is lying to its people and illegally invading a nation, has been allowed to steal the courage, virtue and honor of its soldiers on the ground.

Somehow those afraid to fight an illegal invasion decades ago are allowed to send soldiers to die for an illegal invasion they started.

Somehow faking character, virtue and strength is tolerated.

Somehow profiting from tragedy and horror is tolerated.

Somehow the death of tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of people is tolerated.

Somehow subversion of the Bill of Rights and The Constitution is tolerated.

Somehow suspension of Habeas Corpus is supposed to keep this country safe.

Somehow torture is tolerated.

Somehow lying is tolerated.

Somehow reason is being discarded for faith, dogma, and nonsense.

Somehow American leadership managed to create a more dangerous world.

Somehow a narrative is more important than reality.

Somehow America has become a country that projects everything that it is not and condemns everything that it is.

Somehow the most reasonable, trusted and respected country in the world has become one of the most irrational, belligerent, feared, and distrusted countries in the world.

Somehow being politically informed, diligent, and skeptical has been replaced by apathy through active ignorance.

Somehow the same incompetent, narcissistic, virtueless, vacuous, malicious criminals are still in charge of this country.

Somehow this is tolerated.

Somehow nobody is accountable for this.

In a democracy, the policy of the leaders is the policy of the people. So don't be shocked when our grandkids bury much of this generation as traitors to the nation, to the world and to humanity. Most likely, they will come to know that "somehow" was nurtured by fear, insecurity and indifference, leaving the country vulnerable to unchecked, unchallenged parasites.

Luckily this country is still a democracy. People still have a voice. People still can take action. It can start after Pat's birthday.

***

well, i can say one thing. the dems came riding into office like knights in shining armour. and didn't do a damn thing.

it's sad that there's no difference between any of them anymore. they're all using the war, the soldiers, etc. to advance their campaign or get elected or attack the opponent. it's a tug-of-war (pun intended) where the middle marker never goes in one direction.

oooooooooh, baby i love your way

i am not feeling quite clever enough to come up with a snazzy title, so i googled "baby" and "song lyrics" and what you see above is the phrase i discerned to be best. and by best, i mean least annoying.

so.

i read the news--a lot. in fact, some very incredible, intelligent and funny people pay me to do it. the best part, besides watching the midland v. bay city v. saginaw triangular battle for "we aren't that bad, check out what is happening in midland/bay city/saginaw" unfold, is being assigned to read the lansing city pulse, a paper i really enjoy but don't read as often living on the outskirts of lansing. (aside: that will change. moving day is upon us...in a week.)

today the cover story Outside the Hospital: Local women discover natural birth caught my eye. first, because it sounds a bit cheesy (bad titles, theme of the day) and because i have had a baby (she's three now, so if you are surprised, you clearly haven't been paying attention).

of course the story centers on the same hospital where we delivered evie. some of you know the backstory there--the short of it is i was in labor over 40 hours, pushed for two, had my labor stopped (really, there is a shot for that) as evie was becoming stressed (essentially i never had a lull in the contractions...picture a constant tsunami as opposed to waves) and then in the morning my labor was begun anew. after all was said and done, i ended up with the now-fashionable c-section. my doctors' reason seemed right: a very serious infection was rapidly progressing through my (almost to evie) and it was time to make sure she (and i) were going to be okay.

because my experience was out of control, and full of delirious pain (hello, pitocin!) which caused me to literally lose 6 hours, i am pretty well set on not having another child. having both a "natural" and cesarean birth to recover from wasn't pretty.

what does get me, tho, is what is mainly the thrust of the article: had i stuck to my guns and not caved to have any induction, it is possible i would have ended up without the surgery. but we will never know--that's all speculation. evie was over 1/3 my height at birth, and over 8 pounds. chances are it would have been difficult either way.

what i hate, really, is the speculation over what is best for each mother or child. i agree that childbirth is empowering to an extent--you learn what you and your body are made of, you learn a hell of a lot about death (at least i did--i was convinced i was going to die before the doctors stopped the labor the first time, it was that apparent to me that what was occurring wasn't normal) and when the baby arrives happy and healthy, you instantly forget the horror of it. until later.

i'm not trying to rain on anyone's parade here: childbirth is incredible, and scary, and the worst pain you'll ever go through. and there are a lot of things you can do to alleviate some of that. but the reason i think women (esp. here in lansing) are having surgical births at an alarming (thirty percent) rate is less because doctors are controlling bastards (mine weren't, they were delightful) and more, i think, because all of us have some type of notion ingrained in us about women. i know plenty of men who feel they are responsible for "protecting" their female friends, relatives, etc. chivalry is sweet in a romantic comedy, but it borders on "i know what's best for you"--and really becomes clearer in situations where women (or anyone we are all taught to believe is "weaker" than us) are vulnerable. this is not a man v. woman thing, either: the doctors and nurses who really bear the responsibility for sending things out of control during my labor were women. insane.

i'm rambling. i know. but i have a real issue with anyone saying what is or is not right for another person: what i would love is just the encouragement of choice.

so read the article. tell me what you think. kristin, you especially:)

rise and shine

i am not a morning person. this is not much of a surprise--i love staying awake late into the night, and if i could get away with it, i'd start a second pot of coffee at nine p.m.

i would LIKE to be a morning person, but i am far too lazy to start that path on my own. last night i told jeremy he should wake me at seven a.m., as he was planning to be up at 630. (mind you, when we first started dating, we didn't go to BED until 630.) lo and behold, he actually did! i walked downstairs and gave him a kiss (i thought he was leaving) and then went back to bed.

but i am a total pavlovian coffee dog. jeremy had a pot of very strong, very fresh, very delicious coffee brewing i could smell from upstairs, and i am not one to sleep when there is coffee ready. like a more sleep-deprived, less cheery character in an eighties folger's commercial, i came shuffling down the stairs at 730. congratulations to me!

making it all the stranger, evie is still sleeping. i have thus far read everything online i have felt like reading, caught NPR-Morning Edition (which i always sleep through), played scrabble, made pancake batter, brewed another half-pot of coffee, fed the dog, etc. this morning business isn't half bad.

it was a balmy 40+ degrees here over the weekend, and the hint of spring on the wind made me quickly impatient and nostalgic for baseball. i cannot wait to pen the windows, let the breeze carry through the (NEW!!!) house, and listen to the tigers on the radio. sigh.

that said, this is great news. i plan to drag jeremy and evie to a mid-season game to see young zumaya make his comeback. this, however, is lame news. i had roger clemens pegged as an utter rat bastard prior tot he "subway series" when he threw at mike piazza's head (and i believe knocked him out cold). his unending dramatics every effing season, the "will clemens play another season" and "who will overpay roger to perform poorly and refuse to travel?" make me want to smack him. i have no warm hugs-and-apple-pies feelings for him.

but roger roger roger, come the fuck on, i don't fault anyone for using hgh. playing 160ish games in eight months, performance-incentive-laden contracts, bodily wear and tear--yes, take the hgh. it is your future tumor, your earning potential is limited, and you are, in the end, a product. (aside: congress, if we're really going to be capitalist, butt out of baseball...it isn't a sport, it's a business.) but really, lying about it? blaming your wife? oh, roger. i wish joel zumaya would take hgh! i wish everyone making a living from their body (except prostitutes) had the option to heal faster. (make no mistake, i don't believe in steroids. but hgh is fine by me--it isn't going to make you better, just more durable.)

but lying i will never abide.

alright, kids, the sun is shining, it is snowing, and i think it is time to make pancakes. woot.

bathroom songs

daughter, singing naked in the bathroom while washing her hands:

"my name is luz evangelina but the people call me wee-vee, wee-vee, wee-vee!"

it should be noted, she often pronounces "evangelina" as something more like "ballerina".