Well-played, Blago. Well-played. In the face of breathless promises from the IL Secretary of State and the US Senate to have no part of any Blago Senate appointee, Blago picks Roland Burris to fill the vacant Senate seat. It was pure political theater/Machiavellian outmaneuvering at its wildest best. I think the Bobby Rush "don't lynch the appointee if you have doubts about the appointer" was way over the top and, frankly, insulting to decent people in IL who may have legitimate questions about Mr. Burris' relationship with Governor Blagojevich.
But you know what? After all this weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, Roland Burris will fill that vacant Senate seat. He will fill that Senate seat because neither the IL SOS or the US Senate Dems have a single legal leg to stand on in refusing to affirm and/or seat Mr. Burris.
And to think it could all have been avoided if they'd just called for a special election. I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
I HEART NY--3D
We're home after a (thank you, God) pleasant 3.5 hour ride. We spent today in Times Square on our way to the New Victory Theater to see Dan Zanes (yes, he is going to have to take out a restraining order against us). It was his Holiday House Party, wherein a bunch of friends come over and play Christmas music, Chanukah music, Korean New Year music, Mexican "jarocho" music, North African and Arabic music, and a whole bunch of tap dancing and kiddie dancing and...and...and...everything. It rocked. Basya Schechter did the coolest disco version of Maoz Tzur (Rock of Ages) and O, Hanukkah I've ever heard. They did the absolute most fun 12 Days of Christmas ever, tons of Veracruz fiddling by the Villa Lobos Brothers, and a giant helping of absolutely rocking Arabic music from Palestinian-born musicians Tareq Abboushi and Zafer Tawil. The key songs for Bambina were "Let it Snow" and Leadbelly's "Grey Goose."
Bambina meets Ernesto
And that's why we love Dan Zanes. Because he brings Leadbelly to 4 year-olds. He brings Muslim and Jewish and Christian musicians together to party--for 4 year olds to see and hopefully internalize as The Way Things Should Be. He showcases the Villa-Lobos Brothers who inspire my 4 year old to want to fiddle like the house is en fuego. And, at the end of another 90 minute show, he waits around till the last child has said hi, till the last parent has taken a photo, till the last playbill has been signed. He stays for every single child even though he has another show in 2 hours. He's a class act in the classic sense of the word. And now he has a seriously stalkerooni superfan: At bedtime, Bambina and I always tell each other what we're going to dream about tonight. I always tell her (and it's usually true) that I'm going to dream about her and me and the BBDD doing happy things. She is usually going to dream about one of her "stuffies" (stuffed animals) going to a party, or about tap dancing or whatnot. Tonight she said while almost giggling with joy, "Mama, I am going to dream about Dan Zanes! And violins!"
Seriously. You'd drive 7 hours to a New York show the day after Christmas to see that look on your kid's face too, wouldn't you?
Bambina meets ErnestoAnd that's why we love Dan Zanes. Because he brings Leadbelly to 4 year-olds. He brings Muslim and Jewish and Christian musicians together to party--for 4 year olds to see and hopefully internalize as The Way Things Should Be. He showcases the Villa-Lobos Brothers who inspire my 4 year old to want to fiddle like the house is en fuego. And, at the end of another 90 minute show, he waits around till the last child has said hi, till the last parent has taken a photo, till the last playbill has been signed. He stays for every single child even though he has another show in 2 hours. He's a class act in the classic sense of the word. And now he has a seriously stalkerooni superfan: At bedtime, Bambina and I always tell each other what we're going to dream about tonight. I always tell her (and it's usually true) that I'm going to dream about her and me and the BBDD doing happy things. She is usually going to dream about one of her "stuffies" (stuffed animals) going to a party, or about tap dancing or whatnot. Tonight she said while almost giggling with joy, "Mama, I am going to dream about Dan Zanes! And violins!"
Seriously. You'd drive 7 hours to a New York show the day after Christmas to see that look on your kid's face too, wouldn't you?
Friday, December 26, 2008
I HEART NY--Part Deux
Christmas Day in New York! What ever did we do?! Yup. Dim sum in Chinatown. We all love Chinatown, especially New York's. Especially now that she can sing and speak a little Chinese, Bambina is less freaked out by Chinese ladies cooing all over her. Her coping mechanism is to say "Nie Hao" and start singing her song about two tigers running: "Liang ge lao hu, liang ge lao hu; pao de kuai pao de kuai..." Gets 'em every time. The only issue is that in Chinatown the primary language is Cantonese, which they expect her to speak being that she's from Guangdong. Which is when I chime in with my limited Chinese to say that we are learning Zhongwen (Mandarin) for now and will learn Zongguohua (Cantonese) next. They seem okay with it, but maybe they are either impressed that we can "speak" Chinese at all--or they are trying to figure out what the hell I just said. Either way, we ate more food than any trio should ever consume in one sitting. We were our own little band of jolly fat elves, in honor of the day.
We then bought our new qipaos for the upcoming Chinese New Year (January 26). As requested by Bambina, we got matching dresses, both red. I think I am rocking the red dress, y'all. The last pink one was fine, but this red one is all me. The BBDD narrowly missed having to purchase the men's outfit because just as Bambina was getting fixed on him getting one, the lady brought over matching red silk shoes for her and that was that.
After the shopping we went to Bryant Park to ice skate. (She had received kiddie double-blade skates for Chanukah the night before). In addition to the Rockefeller Tree, the ice skating at Rock Center was another obsession for the trip. "Unfortunately" the ridiculously expensive Rockefeller Plaza rink was closed on Christmas Day, but Bryant Park (the FREE ice rink) was open. So off we went. By which I mean that the BBDD and Bambina went on the ice (partly because I didn't want to fall and require a hospital visit in a strange city, even if for a broken arm--like I need another health problem, right? Also partly because the skating is free but the skate rental and storage lockers are extortionate). So I took the pics of my wee Bambina taking her first steps out onto the ice--and continued to take pics for TWO HOURS, since the child would not leave. It was pretty damn awesome to see her absolutely love something even though it was clear she was nervous and a bit out of her depth. 
(And very important program note: if you need a public toilet in NYC, do use the ones at Bryant Park. They have a full-time attendant who is not only friendly but dedicated as well; I actually thanked her as we left for keeping such a great bathroom. That lady took pride in her work, which is perhaps a lesson for those of us in "better" jobs; whatever you do, do it like it matters, because, for me, it mattered. I really needed a clean bathroom that day and would have been either screwed or freaked out without this lady's top notch job performance at something most people would think is beneath them).
That evening we reflected on the fact that it's a bit weird to have just had a "regular day" that most of the country sees as special. I forget sometimes that people wait in anticipation for this day for weeks, that it is magical for many kids, and that it is a giant big deal for many families. It's very easy to forget when you're in NYC, because with a few restaurant and store exceptions, the city is open--especially in the Lower East Side with our fellow juifs and chinoises. We literally marvelled at the fact that, excepting the closed Dunkin Donuts that AM (but open when we got back in the afternoon!), you could easily wander around large swaths of NYC and have no idea it is Christmas Day.
Bambina is completely cool with Christmas, mostly because we don't freak out about her, for example, loving the Rockefeller Tree. I think stuff like that backfires on the non-Christian parent because who in their right mind doesn't like looking at a pretty, magical, sparkly tree?!--and now it's a bad thing? That's a crazy thing to tell a kid. She completely gets that we don't have one in our house because we do not celebrate that holiday, any more than her Catholic cousin would light up a menorah in her house; and she's cool with it precisely because we don't talk about Christmas as something to be avoided (how do you denigrate a holiday members of your family and dear, dear friends celebrate?), but rather we spend the time making OUR holiday special to her. She won't long for Christmas if she's too busy feeling nostalgia for the glory days of those Chanukahs of her youth where she first ice skated in New York, first discovered the Wii, and (hopefully) first got accosted by the car full of Chasids. :)
In the meantime she has written a song for her and for her cousins and friends who celebrate each holiday. She composed it last night on the BBDD's friend's keyboard:
"How are you? How are you?
How are you? I am fine, thank you.
Thank you God, Thank you God
Thank you God for Chanukah and Christmas!"
And to all a good night!
We then bought our new qipaos for the upcoming Chinese New Year (January 26). As requested by Bambina, we got matching dresses, both red. I think I am rocking the red dress, y'all. The last pink one was fine, but this red one is all me. The BBDD narrowly missed having to purchase the men's outfit because just as Bambina was getting fixed on him getting one, the lady brought over matching red silk shoes for her and that was that.
After the shopping we went to Bryant Park to ice skate. (She had received kiddie double-blade skates for Chanukah the night before). In addition to the Rockefeller Tree, the ice skating at Rock Center was another obsession for the trip. "Unfortunately" the ridiculously expensive Rockefeller Plaza rink was closed on Christmas Day, but Bryant Park (the FREE ice rink) was open. So off we went. By which I mean that the BBDD and Bambina went on the ice (partly because I didn't want to fall and require a hospital visit in a strange city, even if for a broken arm--like I need another health problem, right? Also partly because the skating is free but the skate rental and storage lockers are extortionate). So I took the pics of my wee Bambina taking her first steps out onto the ice--and continued to take pics for TWO HOURS, since the child would not leave. It was pretty damn awesome to see her absolutely love something even though it was clear she was nervous and a bit out of her depth. 
(And very important program note: if you need a public toilet in NYC, do use the ones at Bryant Park. They have a full-time attendant who is not only friendly but dedicated as well; I actually thanked her as we left for keeping such a great bathroom. That lady took pride in her work, which is perhaps a lesson for those of us in "better" jobs; whatever you do, do it like it matters, because, for me, it mattered. I really needed a clean bathroom that day and would have been either screwed or freaked out without this lady's top notch job performance at something most people would think is beneath them).
That evening we reflected on the fact that it's a bit weird to have just had a "regular day" that most of the country sees as special. I forget sometimes that people wait in anticipation for this day for weeks, that it is magical for many kids, and that it is a giant big deal for many families. It's very easy to forget when you're in NYC, because with a few restaurant and store exceptions, the city is open--especially in the Lower East Side with our fellow juifs and chinoises. We literally marvelled at the fact that, excepting the closed Dunkin Donuts that AM (but open when we got back in the afternoon!), you could easily wander around large swaths of NYC and have no idea it is Christmas Day.
Bambina is completely cool with Christmas, mostly because we don't freak out about her, for example, loving the Rockefeller Tree. I think stuff like that backfires on the non-Christian parent because who in their right mind doesn't like looking at a pretty, magical, sparkly tree?!--and now it's a bad thing? That's a crazy thing to tell a kid. She completely gets that we don't have one in our house because we do not celebrate that holiday, any more than her Catholic cousin would light up a menorah in her house; and she's cool with it precisely because we don't talk about Christmas as something to be avoided (how do you denigrate a holiday members of your family and dear, dear friends celebrate?), but rather we spend the time making OUR holiday special to her. She won't long for Christmas if she's too busy feeling nostalgia for the glory days of those Chanukahs of her youth where she first ice skated in New York, first discovered the Wii, and (hopefully) first got accosted by the car full of Chasids. :)
In the meantime she has written a song for her and for her cousins and friends who celebrate each holiday. She composed it last night on the BBDD's friend's keyboard:
"How are you? How are you?
How are you? I am fine, thank you.
Thank you God, Thank you God
Thank you God for Chanukah and Christmas!"
And to all a good night!
I HEART NY--Part One
From 12/24:
After our expected 3.5 hour drive turned into 7, and our usual 20 minute bedtime ritual turned into 2 hours, we all finally got to sleep crazy late at our friend's apartment in NYC. When we finally woke up we decided to try to make the best of what was left of a seriously rainy Christmas Eve day. So we subwayed to 42nd St, made our way in the pouring rain to Rockefeller Center, and there--behold!--was the tree of Bambina's dreams. The tree she has talked about for weeks. The tree we looked up on the internet every day for a week. The tree she spent 10 seconds admiring and then ignored in favor of the ice skaters on the Rock Plaza rink. When I say "in favor of," I mean that we stood there rapt for 10 full minutes. In the driving rain. In wind blowing so hard we could barely hear ourselves speak over the clanking and flapping of the many surrounding flags and their tethers. She was fixated on a blond woman in a MILFy Mrs. Claus-type outfit, skating around the rink like a pro. We studied her so closely we realized that she was of Asian descent, was wearing a wig, and was clearly in the employ of some NBC-related pseudo-Rockette ice show enterprise.
We finally managed to tear Bambina away from the rink and found shelter in the nearby Nintendo World store. For the next hour Bambina and the BBDD engaged in various Wii games from soccer to tightrope walking to football. The BBDD was particularly proud of his first-timer daughter's solid performance with Madden Football. I was excited for them but bored for myself. I fall into that category of person who wants to like video games, totally understands why people love video games, and totally sees how video games (when used for good and not evil) can enhance aspects of a person's or family's life. I get it. I just don't get it so much that I want to do it myself. Maybe I'm such a control freak that I'm afraid it will all become a giant slippery slope. You know, today Wii tightrope, tomorrow unemployment with a side of living in mom's basement? I think the BBDD agrees since he said as we finally left the store, "Oh my god, we seriously can NEVER buy one of these!"
What we did buy were lots of Purell and lots of zyrtec. Purell for me, of course. Zyrtec for the BBDD's raging cat allergy that he didn't mention to his friend (as in, the out-of-town friend who owns a cat, and in whose Greenwich Village apartment we were staying). Apparently Bambina has a situation as well, because her eyes did not stop itching the entire time we were there. Notwithstanding the allergies, the apartment was AWESOME. Not the least of which because the view looks like this:
Red/Green for Christmas, Blue/White for Chanukah.
Which is why I love New York. A family of three Jews--all looking as different from each other as a trio could possibly look--walk into a kosher deli, and exactly no one gives a shit. We get on the subway and half the car looks like us--and there ain't even a convention in town. It's freeing in a very real way to just...be...and to be of precisely zero interest as a family to anyone in your vicinity. You can talk about the loneliness of big cities all you want, but we've got friends; we don't need to make any with curious strangers on the bus.
At the same time, our biggest disappointment so far is that (unlike our Christmas/Chanukah in NYC years ago) we have not had the Lubavitch experience. Specifically, three guys jumped out of a car sporting a giant menorah on the roof. They asked, "Are you Jewish?" The BBDD, fresh out of our life experiment as Jews in Georgia (and failing to notice the GIANT MENORAH ON THE ROOF), balls his fists up, gets in Fight Club stance and says in his "go ahead punk" voice, "Who wants to know?" They answer rather jollily, "We do!" and hand us a free menorah, candles, prayer book and gelt and take off again in their Honda Chasid to find all the other un-menorahed Jews in the naked city. It's a story Bambina cannot hear enough, to the extent that I may have to hire some guys to accost us just so she doesn't go home dejected. We'll see.
In any case, today was a day of surprises. We traveled to see the tree and loved the rink instead. We ran to escape the rain and discovered our daughter's hidden NFL talents. We ate at the 2nd Avenue Deli--now at 33rd and 3rd. We loved being anonymous, but secretly hoped a car full of Jews would spot us a mile away.
After our expected 3.5 hour drive turned into 7, and our usual 20 minute bedtime ritual turned into 2 hours, we all finally got to sleep crazy late at our friend's apartment in NYC. When we finally woke up we decided to try to make the best of what was left of a seriously rainy Christmas Eve day. So we subwayed to 42nd St, made our way in the pouring rain to Rockefeller Center, and there--behold!--was the tree of Bambina's dreams. The tree she has talked about for weeks. The tree we looked up on the internet every day for a week. The tree she spent 10 seconds admiring and then ignored in favor of the ice skaters on the Rock Plaza rink. When I say "in favor of," I mean that we stood there rapt for 10 full minutes. In the driving rain. In wind blowing so hard we could barely hear ourselves speak over the clanking and flapping of the many surrounding flags and their tethers. She was fixated on a blond woman in a MILFy Mrs. Claus-type outfit, skating around the rink like a pro. We studied her so closely we realized that she was of Asian descent, was wearing a wig, and was clearly in the employ of some NBC-related pseudo-Rockette ice show enterprise.We finally managed to tear Bambina away from the rink and found shelter in the nearby Nintendo World store. For the next hour Bambina and the BBDD engaged in various Wii games from soccer to tightrope walking to football. The BBDD was particularly proud of his first-timer daughter's solid performance with Madden Football. I was excited for them but bored for myself. I fall into that category of person who wants to like video games, totally understands why people love video games, and totally sees how video games (when used for good and not evil) can enhance aspects of a person's or family's life. I get it. I just don't get it so much that I want to do it myself. Maybe I'm such a control freak that I'm afraid it will all become a giant slippery slope. You know, today Wii tightrope, tomorrow unemployment with a side of living in mom's basement? I think the BBDD agrees since he said as we finally left the store, "Oh my god, we seriously can NEVER buy one of these!"
What we did buy were lots of Purell and lots of zyrtec. Purell for me, of course. Zyrtec for the BBDD's raging cat allergy that he didn't mention to his friend (as in, the out-of-town friend who owns a cat, and in whose Greenwich Village apartment we were staying). Apparently Bambina has a situation as well, because her eyes did not stop itching the entire time we were there. Notwithstanding the allergies, the apartment was AWESOME. Not the least of which because the view looks like this:
Red/Green for Christmas, Blue/White for Chanukah. Which is why I love New York. A family of three Jews--all looking as different from each other as a trio could possibly look--walk into a kosher deli, and exactly no one gives a shit. We get on the subway and half the car looks like us--and there ain't even a convention in town. It's freeing in a very real way to just...be...and to be of precisely zero interest as a family to anyone in your vicinity. You can talk about the loneliness of big cities all you want, but we've got friends; we don't need to make any with curious strangers on the bus.
At the same time, our biggest disappointment so far is that (unlike our Christmas/Chanukah in NYC years ago) we have not had the Lubavitch experience. Specifically, three guys jumped out of a car sporting a giant menorah on the roof. They asked, "Are you Jewish?" The BBDD, fresh out of our life experiment as Jews in Georgia (and failing to notice the GIANT MENORAH ON THE ROOF), balls his fists up, gets in Fight Club stance and says in his "go ahead punk" voice, "Who wants to know?" They answer rather jollily, "We do!" and hand us a free menorah, candles, prayer book and gelt and take off again in their Honda Chasid to find all the other un-menorahed Jews in the naked city. It's a story Bambina cannot hear enough, to the extent that I may have to hire some guys to accost us just so she doesn't go home dejected. We'll see.
In any case, today was a day of surprises. We traveled to see the tree and loved the rink instead. We ran to escape the rain and discovered our daughter's hidden NFL talents. We ate at the 2nd Avenue Deli--now at 33rd and 3rd. We loved being anonymous, but secretly hoped a car full of Jews would spot us a mile away.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Merry Christmas!
We're off to NYC for our Jewish Christmas (Chinese Food, the Lower East Side [= other Jews], and of course the Rockefeller Tree). So this is my Christmas wish to all my Christmas-celebrating friends. Merry, Happy and Healthy, darlings!
The Temptations
The Temptations
Monday, December 22, 2008
Miscellaneous
A minor migraine coming on, so this is all I got for ya tonight:
I generally do not want to see my POTUS undressed, but I do have to give it up to BarAbs Obama for being perhaps the most in-shape president since...hmm...help me out here. Jefferson? Taft? Perhaps a sign that I am not the only person interested is the fact that the Bauer-Griffin (the photographer) website keeps crashing from the traffic.
Also have to give it up to Sarah Palin, who was named Conservative of the Year by Human Events. Announced by none other than the beastly Ann Coulter. If you read her post, here, you see that it has very little to do with how empirically great Sarah Palin is, but rather how terrible Barack Obama, Joe Biden, "the media," and even John McCain are in comparison. Not exactly the rousing oratory you'd hope for if you were receiving an award, where more is said about your opponents than you.
And, finally, speaking of poor John McCain, a video compilation that makes me laugh hysterically every time I watch it:
I generally do not want to see my POTUS undressed, but I do have to give it up to BarAbs Obama for being perhaps the most in-shape president since...hmm...help me out here. Jefferson? Taft? Perhaps a sign that I am not the only person interested is the fact that the Bauer-Griffin (the photographer) website keeps crashing from the traffic. Also have to give it up to Sarah Palin, who was named Conservative of the Year by Human Events. Announced by none other than the beastly Ann Coulter. If you read her post, here, you see that it has very little to do with how empirically great Sarah Palin is, but rather how terrible Barack Obama, Joe Biden, "the media," and even John McCain are in comparison. Not exactly the rousing oratory you'd hope for if you were receiving an award, where more is said about your opponents than you.
And, finally, speaking of poor John McCain, a video compilation that makes me laugh hysterically every time I watch it:
Happy Chanukah, MoT's!
Tonight is the first night of Chanukah, Hannukkah, Hanukah, Hannukah and Hanuka. We celebrated all of them. I love Chanukah even though it is a minor festival and not "the Jewish Christmas." I love it because it lights up the darkness of winter. It's dark at 4pm, but here we are lighting a candle and cursing nothing. I also love it because it mandates the consumption of biblical quantities of fried potatoes, a reason I feel God in his wisdom will see fit to accept as valid, especially from a Scotswoman. I also love Chanukah because (at least in our house) it has not turned into a materialistic, "well, we get 8 days of presents and you only get one!" event that competes with Christmas. The gifts are eight, but also minor: $10 ice skates, $8 board game, $4 card game. And of course, our third night wherein Bambina's gift is that she gives a gift to someone else. This year we're donating to the Families With Children From China orphanage fund, to help some special needs kids get surgery in China.
When I talk about Chanukah with Bambina we don't talk too much about gifts. Instead I talk a lot (too much?) about the importance of lighting up the darkness, as a holiday, as a family, as a person. Maybe she's too young for the symbolism of light in the darkness, but I hope she's not too young to internalize how we celebrate the holiday, by being happy together, by lighting candles, by giving to others, and by making the gifts the least important part of the night. I'm not sure how to characterize it, other than to perhaps call it "keeping the 'ccchhh' in Chanukah." :)
When I talk about Chanukah with Bambina we don't talk too much about gifts. Instead I talk a lot (too much?) about the importance of lighting up the darkness, as a holiday, as a family, as a person. Maybe she's too young for the symbolism of light in the darkness, but I hope she's not too young to internalize how we celebrate the holiday, by being happy together, by lighting candles, by giving to others, and by making the gifts the least important part of the night. I'm not sure how to characterize it, other than to perhaps call it "keeping the 'ccchhh' in Chanukah." :)
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