What’s next?
Thursday, January 29th, 2009Every day I read the headlines, and I get a little more depressed about the affairs of the nation. But this is inconceivable.
Every day I read the headlines, and I get a little more depressed about the affairs of the nation. But this is inconceivable.
For those who have been kind enough to e-mail and inquire, my family was not near the I35 bridge collapse yesterday. Thank you for your thoughts and concern.
The area is a stone’s throw from the U of M law school and a route I used for commuting for many years. The commuter’s cityscape view of Minneapolis into the city from the north is, in my opinion, one of the loveliest around. The bridge is not the eerily long kind that fosters fear in the bridge-phobic simply by crossing it. Instead, it’s the kind of roadway you sit on in rush hour, stewing about your day, planning your dinner, oblivious.
While I’ve been proud of the response of the local authorities, I have been, as usual, disappointed in the media machine’s desperate and dramatic attempts to tally up the dead faster than their competitors. Even the blogging world rushes in to cast blame, while mothers and daughters and sisters, fathers and sons and brothers are still pulling the bodies of their loved ones out from underneath steel beams and concrete.
In secondary world news, I’m pretty sure we have several Diegos that were apparently painted with lead paint.
I suppose it’s not yet possible to simply surround my children in a giant bubble of safety?
I do love a theme. In yet another example of marketing to the under 10 set, we can now add to the children’s music explosion and the so-called ‘chicken finger pandemic’ – luxury hotel accommodations just for the little ones.
Where’s the fun in a family vacation if you don’t have to cram into the hotel double bed with your siblings and complain about how bored you are?
I am not the only person wondering whether creating so many things designed specifically for our children has its unfortunate consequences. The New York Times’ David Kamp notes that the advent of the children’s menu, apart from its potential health ramifications, has wrecked the development of our children’s palates. After discovering that the ubiquitous chicken finger has a “hold” on his kids, Kamp dares to ask: “Why not just make them eat our food?”
I grew up eating what my parents ate, at home and at restaurants. Sometimes, the experience could be revelatory, as when I tried fish chowder for the first time on a trip to Boston, or when my mother attempted Julia Child’s Soupe au Pistou.
As a person whose oldest child hasn’t wandered outside the refined whites food group in nearly 6 years, I’m on board. You?
Link via ALOTT5MA.
Apparently working mom guilt knows no bounds. Even celebrity moms are not immune. Harvard-educated, Oscar-winning actress Mira Sorvino, daughter of actor/director Paul Sorvino, former love interest of Quentin Tarantino, and now married mother of two, reveals that leaving her children to work 12 hour days on a movie set ‘kills her’, and she wishes she were independently wealthy.
A Swedish couple wants to name their daughter Metallica. (A son, maybe, but a daughter?) My favorite line in the article is the couple’s argument that the name “suits her.” … Kong likes to stick his fingers in light sockets, but I don’t think I’d name him ACDC. Are there any rock bands that would make good kid names?