I’ve got a problem. I was raised to believe that we are supposed to be responsible for our own actions, and that the responsibility also included making good choices. After all, outside of our opposable thumbs the human ability to be sentient, to think of consequences BEFORE making a choice is supposed to be one of the elements that separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom.
So when the news breaks about the single mother who went to a fertility clinic to have just one more girl, and ended up coming out with octuplets, I cringe at how everyone thinks it’s just so wonderful.
I’ve witnessed the birth of my two boys, and it was the most amazing experience. Thankfully, however, some critics have started to surface questioning why a single mother with six children would even consider having more children, even if it was an
Bent Spoon has been a great outlet over the past couple of years, but a fragmented outlet. I’ve come to realize in the last couple of weeks — due to a few related and unrelated circumstances — that Bent Spoon has a focus, and one that I need to refine.
I had a very idyllic childhood. I thought that as a child, and think that now as I reflect upon how my parents raised me in rfespect to how I'm trying to raise my children. This, oddly enough, is causing some conflict.
Well, after the first episode of I don't want to talk about it, the power chord from the garage was not our oldest's signal that he was ready to talk.
OK. No fair. My third-grader just pulled that on me.
“I don’t want to talk about it, dad.”
Oof. What do I do with this one?
The Dow Jones Industrial average leaps 3 percent one day, then drops 1 percent the next, and even with hindsight I doubt anyone can say with authority why this is happening.
From CNBC.com: "Indeed, the housing recession is single-handedly responsible for sending the credit markets into crisis following an unprecedented run up in home prices between 2001 and 2005."
Really? What about the consumers, and the financial institutions, and the (lack of) regulators that lead to the conditions predicating the "housing recession."
My take on how this all went down…
INT. McCAIN WARROOM — NIGHT
Can't do the two old white guys for the ticket any more, fellas. Whaddya think now?
I have two postings that I'm working on that I will post in the next week: one on being the center of attention, and the other on vocational direction. I've been, fortunately, hammering on Virtually Real, and getting really close to finishing the third, and final major draft before sending it out for peer review. As my oldest said, "dad, if you want to get it done, you'll find a way." And despite having three ad hoc multi-media jobs in the last two weeks, I've been staying up at night and getting the writing done, but the cleanliness of the house is still suffering. Just not something I'm drawn to do. Sorry, Heather.
So, look for some new postings of substance in the next 10 days.
I went to my 20th college reunion this weekend at Cornell University. OK. Yes, I could have just said "college" and left it at that, but you go to college and you have pride in the institution you attended, and from what I've found to be a stereotypically East Coast kind of ethos, flaunt what is called educational capital when you can. Educational Capital is a kind of social currency that you can use in cocktail conversation or in many interpersonal dynamics. Think of the haughty Harvard grad saying through a lock-jaw "I went to Hah-vahd." Then think of all of the variations of either pride or modesty in regards to the schooling you have…or don't have. Pride can also well from an accomplished life without an education. It all depends on your personality.