Grass Roots Movement

Things that only annoy and cannot possibly enrich humanity (other than perhaps to teach us patience . . . but who needs more patience?)

1. Headphones when they get old and suddenly only one ear works and you have to wiggle the cord for a while til the other ear comes in but unless you can stan - com-tely sti-l it fl-cker- in - out aft-r onl- 8 sec—–  *static silence*.

2. People who blow/sip/slurp their tea/coffee/hot water in enunciated, methodical fashion, even when (the most peeviest part) it’s already cold!

3. Watching movies in an interrupted fashion. whetheri t be people making out in the theatre (at least keep the smacking to a minium, ok?) or talking ahead, or whatever it is. The worst is watching a movie your younger brother is not allowed to see, and him walking through the room every 5 minutes (on purpose!) so you have to stop, lest you be chastised by your parents for ‘letting him see such abominations.’ (Yes Matt, I mean you. I know you’re reading this.)

4. Little children in places they should not be.
At the movies rated pg-13 or above, sans parents, no less.
Artsy museums.
Any sort of performances.
Church services so their parents can ‘teach them how they are supposed to behave in a few years’ (there’s a reason it’s a few years away).
There are a very few children who are well-behaved enough to be taken to such places, but to those who think I’m talking about their children, take my advice. Never assume your children are the exception and the world will be a better place.

5. Hamburger and hot dog bun packages. No, not just the fact that the numbers do not coordinate with how many hamburgers or hotdogs come in a package (well, how many hamburgers you can make out of a package) but that there are so MANY of them. Hi, it’s just me I have to feed. I do not need 8 buns. I need two. OK OK, three.

I don’t want to buy THAT much hamburger meat. And I can’t freeze all that extra bread. It’s fluffy, it takes up extra room in my freezer. See how much room it’s taking up over there! And that’s not even life sized. Anyways, I need as much space as I can get for more important things, like mint chocolate chip ice cream and ice packs (for when soccer is in season because it really is a contat sport and for when it’s not because I an a klutz) and pizzas and all other food groups which can be frozen. I just don’t have room for half-used packages of glorified meat-holders, which taste funny after they’ve been defrosted anyways.

This applies to many food products which are sold in quantities far too great for one person (or the ’single serves’ are more expensive than the ‘regular’) but buns appear to be a good specific upon which to fix my peevishness.

7. People who don’t listen to their cell phone messages, they just call back. Why did I spend 2 1/2 minutes delineating my need to you if you brushed it aside hit ‘redial’ just to say ‘hey, so uh what’d you need?’ when I answer.

8. Actually I think the true peevishness here is brought out by the fact that answering machines (or the more modern ‘voicemail receptacles’) are in and other themselves annoying and terrifying, simultaneously.

While seeking some image to prove m point, I found this. Yeah, not helping my irrational completely sane fear shared by almost everyone on the planet if they would just admit it.

In the past I’ve pointed out things or people I do NOT respect, but I think I should note some things I do. Here’s a short, not-in-any-way-exhaustive list. They’re just some things I’ve seen around me lately that I admire.

1. When people who don’t have to, do.

I am on a soccer team. I never played before college, my first year trying out I made the reserves, second year I made the team, third year I lettered, and coming up is my forth year. Just to make the team I know I need to work during the summer. (Read: run. a lot. and I do so hate running when there’s no direct object . . .) But there are many players who could make the team just by stepping on the pitch. So when they go running and do sprints or jump rope or whatnot, that deserves some respect.

2. People who adopt.

Double disclaimer: there are people who adopt for the wrong reasons just like there are people who have kids for the wrong reasons. and don’t get me wrong, kudos to all who have and care for kids in any way. But adoption presents a whole new set of problems, from the government poking its nose in your life, possible legal problems, kids throwing the ‘you’re not my real family’ in your face, what have you. It’s quite an undertaking. Recently I’ve seen a few different sets of parents with their adopted children, and I have to admire what they’ve thrown themselves into.

3. People in the armed services.

I know this sounds like it’s just a prerequisite for these lists and I slapped it on here, but seeing some of my friends in the military makes me respect even more what they’re doing. It’s not just the active duty and ‘danger element’ that makes it worth admiring, it’s the getting up early for grueling workouts, working out on your own so you can make it through the grueling workouts, following arms-length lists of sometimes-inane rules (having personal experience with this one makes me respect the ability even more), shedding your hair and other aspects of ‘normal’ life, learning all sorts of technical things, working as a unit, defending your friends and country, having to deal with seperation (more than just the armed forces half has to deal with that), and I could go on.

4. There are more . . .

obviously I admire people who fit into none of these categories. (Although the first category really expands far beyond soccer and into all aspects of life.) Maybe I’ll lis some more later. Meanwhile, give me something or someone you respect.

Last week the Supreme Court struck down a law which allowed the death penalty to be enforced in cases of child rape. (full story here, but sans commentary, which as we all know is the reason you came, so why leave now?)

By a 5-4 vote - which seems to be the going rate for decisions these days - the court decided putting a person to a fairly painless death violates the Constitution’s ban on cruel and unusual punishment. Yes, I said fairly painless. Even if there is some discomfort or, you know, unpleasantness that goes along with an execution, it surely is nothing compared to the terrors pain, nightmares, bodily and mental harm suffered by the perpetrator’s victims

“The death penalty is not a proportional punishment for the rape of a child,” Justice Anthony Kennedy wrote in his majority opinion.

You better believe it’s not. You know what would be a ‘proportional penalty’? For the perpetrator to be violated, repetitively, violently, by some other prison inmates (implement not specified, but preferably splintered) before he goes to the electric chair. Even that could not possibly replicate what has been done to the mind and future of a child, but it would be as close as one could satisfyingly get to ‘proportional.’

The phrase ‘a fate worse than death’ was coined for a reason. While it’s certainly true that those who have had such a disgusting, violent and terrible crime committed against them can still live a full and good life (unlike murder victims) I fail to see why we are rewarding ‘the bad guys’ for doing the worst thing they can do this side of death, but not quite crossing that line. Something that amounts to torture, violent cruelty, a destruction of innocence, all to satisfy their twisted lusts and appetites, is just ‘not bad enough.’

Note the wording of the ruling. “We cannot sanction this result when the harm to the victim, though grave, cannot be quantified in the same way as death of the victim.” Kennedy basically ruled out the death penalty ever, in any court case which does not involve death. Torture a little girl? Sure. Ruin a young boy’s life? OK. Just leave him or her breathing and we’ll continue to pay for your room and board as long as you live.

There’s a reason when child molesters get put into cells with other inmates like convicted felons, bank robbers, and even murderers (who are supposedly the worst class of criminal and the only ones deserving death) they don’t last very long as a whole person. I’m not saying that’s right, just making a point.

When prisoners know justice better than the judges, we’re in trouble.

A Columbian woman who once was a candidate for President is held hostage for 6 years, then she is loaded onto a helicopter to be taken to another guerrilla camp, only hey, the guys in Che Guevara shirt were actually *drum roll please* soldiers of the national army.

Ingrid Betancourt and 14 other hostages including 3 Americans, Colombian soldiers and police, were released and airlifted home Wednesday after military spies tricked the rebel captors into handing them over.

Military intelligence agents spent months infiltrating the leftist Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC - what a great acronym) to get the scheme ready. Defense Minister Juan Manuel Santos admitted was risky and if it flopped ”I would have had to resign.” 

Santos said the mission - which took not only months of prep work, but also dozens of helicopters on standby and I’m sure a fair share of tense moments and lying-through-their-teeth for the soldiers - “will go into history for its audacity and effectiveness.”

The agents took a long time to convince the guerrillas to believe they got orders from rebel leaders. The hostages were taken to a rendezvous point for a helicopter pickup, to go see the ‘ultimate’ (word used incredibly loosely) rebel leader Alfonso Cano.

The rescuers shoved the tied-up captives into a unmarked helicopter, believing they were being transferred to another guerrilla camp. Apparently Ingrid was so ticked off at the indignity that she refused when they offered her a coat because she was ‘going to a colder climate.’ It’s right out of a movie - the miffed ‘captee’ turning up her nose when her rescuers in disguise try to help her.

But then Betancourt saw the local commander blindfolded and stripped naked on the floor. Not exactly something underlings are likely to try on their honorable leader.

“We’re the national army,” said one of the crewmen. “You’re free.”

*cue double take*

Guess the hostage missed the part where the soldiers convinced some guerrillas to hand over their pistols. (Whatever they are, it’s not brilliant.)

But one sneaking suspicion and the whole thing could have gone kaput (a technical military term). “The helicopter was on the ground for 22 minutes,” said army chief Gen. Mario Montoya, “the longest minutes of my life.”

But now all the captives are back, relatively safe and sound.

This is my favorite part: even though Ingrid voiced her appreciation for what the current president has accomplished, she still said “I continue to aspire to serve Colombia as president.”

Tough cookie.

*story written while referring to various press releases, especially Yahoo!’s story.

** yeah, I should do this with the font more often. I just don’t usually think about it.

Because I bike everywhere (see post immediately below) and my church is 30 minutes away by car (I’m not sure how that would translate as far as time biked or sweat produced - something I doubt would be appreciated in a no-central-AC church) I usually get a ride with some friends who live in town.

This past Sunday all of my friends were going to be gone. Saturday night I realized 2 things.

1. I did not have the number of the person I needed to call for a ride.

2. We had a Mexican Fiesta potluck after church and I did not have my assigned victual responsibilities (AKA chips and salsa).

So I thought, ’Well, I’ll have to get the number and call in the morning. And why buy salsa (which I don’t normally buy for myself) and chips (which I should not eat as much as I love to) at an exorbitant cost at the corner store, only to not get a ride in the morning and be stuck in the house with chips and salsa that I will be only too happy obligated to consume myself, with some help from my roommate.’

So Sunday I got a hold of my oh-so-accomodating-mode-of-transportation, and set out to the store to buy glorified tomato paste and corn shaped into triangles.

Biked there, went in, chose food, started wandering around the magazine rack because I just can’t help myself, and what to my wondering eyes should appear but this little yellow sign, advertising “JUST IN, TRY ONE!”

Now, see how in the post below the post immediately below this, I had expressed my intense desire for a Milka Cafe or Zartherb. And no, that was not what was at the cash register at the random little podunk-ian store. But, 4 or 5 regular Milkas were.

I was a bit taken back. During all that fuss, the almost-object-of-my-desire was being put out at the little store several blocks down. While it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, I took it as a good sign. Surely, surely the cafe-or-zartherb-laden-exquisite-goodness must exist somewhere near. (Zartherb-laden? Sounds like some sort of plant.)

All of which I would have missed had I done one of 3 things.

1. Been on the ball, saved money by buying chips and salsa a few weeks ago during my monthly Walmart run (so shoot me, I didn’t remember the potluck which was then 2-weeks-thence. Wait, I’m not sure ‘thence’ means what I think it means. But it sounds right. Hense is from now, so thence is from then, right?)

2. Tracked down the right number and called my ride in time for me to bike to a further-away, cheaper store Saturday night.

3. Matter-of-factly paid for my purchase instead of meandering around the published goods (seriously, I can’t stop perusing. We need our own group.)

If there were a moral to the story (which I don’t believe there actually is, but some people like application, however far-fetched it may be):

Slack off a little bit and you will find something kinda similar to what you want.

Bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
                                             - Queen

Recently I have moved to a place, both in my life and my town, where it is not practical to walk everywhere and bum occassional rides to Walmart. So now I have been biking everywhere . . . and buming occassional rides to Walmart. (No bike in the world could safely hold myself and my milk requirements along that highway. Trust me, disaster waiting to happen.)

So I bike to work, to the bank, to all stores but Wally World, to the park or friend’s houses or wherever. Admittedly at first certain things were weird . . . like pedalling up to the night deposit drop at the bank instead of driving. It just gave me a funny feeling. If you think I’m weird, then you go try it and let me know if it really is just me.

There also exist certain places that aren’t very accessible to bikes. (I had to walk it up a grassy knoll the other day . . . a little awkward. But profitable, as it allowed me to use the phrase ‘grassy knoll’ in casual conversation right then.)

Overall it has been enjoyable. I can spend money on school that I would otherwise spend gas, insurance, upkeep, the actual car, dangly little air fresheners, etc. I get a little extra workout, and it’s mostly enjoyable.

There are a few bumps in the road. No really, there are, and they hurt. (As bike seats are notorious for their discomfort, I don’t feel the need to expound on the subject.)

When it downpours I’m kinda stuck. 

I worry about looking like a shoplifter since I use my sackpack to carry my wallet, phone and purchases in,  and I can hardly leave it locked to the bike, so into stores with me it goes.

(Just in case the first image to pop into your mind was a fanny pack, let me clarify, I meant one of these.

Except mine isn’t nearly this cool. But hey, it’s cyber-world, I can outfit myself with cool stuff!)

And now, back to ‘things that can detract from the coolness of riding my bike everywhere.’

Puddles are a bit of a dampener.

The biggest problem is, of course, stupid people. I once was waiting to get across a crosswalk (small town USA, very very few pedestrian signals or lights at all for that matter) and had a very nice lady stop and wave me across, and the car behind her swerved into the wrong lane to try and speed around, causing me to slam on my handbrakes in the middle of the road. The very nice lady then swore at the impatient driver, and I just put my head down, pushed off, and didn’t look back.

Other annoyances are four way stops, railroad tracks (hint: you want to stand up when going over them) and sidewalks that have that little ramp up, but when you get to the end, no little ramp down. Come now, why do you play with us, city developers?

The city really isn’t very considerate to bikers. Even with the crazy gas prices, I have seen only one other person biking to work the whole time I’ve been here. And being a small town in what is frozen tundra 6 months out of the year, I will have to buy a car come winter. The route between my house and work will become mounds of snow shoved off the the side, left to thaw and refreeze and harden into impenetrable ground armor until April rolls around. Or May.

But until then, I will enjoy my two-wheeled, no-doored, green and gold, 21-speed vehicle.

This one may be a bit more solid than the last couple food picks, but it’s still chocolate-y and still European. OK, so I have a little obsession. Nothing I can’t quit when I want to!

I was innocently going about my day yesterday when it hit me: I reeeaaaalllly want a milka. the craving was pretty specific. I wanted a Milka Cafe, or barring that, a Milka Zarherb.

I don’t even know what the wrapper of my desire says. Cafe is pretty self explanatory, but Zartherb . . . I all I know is that it’s kinda like dark chocolate, in the way that the world cup is kinda like 5th grade soccer. Same basic premise, but one is so obviously superior, and more wonderful, and richer and chocolate-ier . . . ok, the last two apply only to Milka. But at least I’m back on track now.

I was sitting at work almost drooling on my keyboard. The only times I have had Milkas were the several weeks I’ve spent in Slovakia and Germany (and the following weeks in the states where I savored the ’souveniers’ I brought back). Browsing the internet, I found a place that sells them in cases of 20 or so. I think they actually ship them from Germany, but that’s a high price to pay for authenticity. I’m sure there are places that make them in the US, so I think I’ll start looking for serious. Maybe a specialty place in Madison or Milwalkee has them.

Although, I can’t imagine the US having this. 

Yeah, not bad, huh? ‘My purple chocolate-y fighter plane can beat up your fighter plane!’ **

Anyways, if you have not had some of this delicious European chocolate (made in Germany) you can go to their website here or you could go out and try some for yourself. (And make sure to let me know where you find it.)

*image courtesy www.worth1000.com

**yes there’a an easy way to get rid of that annoying blue border around the picture, but my internet is spasming right now so I can’t do it. Come back tomorrow!

The seemingly hefty prize would only cost $1 for “every man, woman and child in the U.S.,” McCain said. He means literally. Taxpayers would have to cough up the prize money, with the winner chosen by a panel of government and private-sector experts, who would naturally be completely non-biased or bribed.

Apparently it’s “a small price to pay for helping to break the back of our oil dependency.”

The guy or girl inventor should be getting rich enough off the patent as it is. Do we really want to create another insta-multi-millionare?

Actually, they might not even make that much. It’s not coincidental that this suggestion sounds like a game show. Those ’winnings’ would be taxable to high heaven. At least half that money would probably be funelled elsewhere into the economy - wherever on earth the government wants. Sneaky.

Most importantly, though, is will this actually expidite the process of developing the battery? Well, many people have been working on this battery solution for years. I’m sure this added incentive will make them co-operate more towards making America’s future brighter. Such a reward would not possibly lead to infighting, secrecy or sabotage. *eye roll*

Where is this coming from? McCain opposes government ethanol subsidies, referring to Brazil - which makes ethanol from sugar cane - as a good example of what happens when a market-driven economy (aka ‘capitalism’) is allowed to drive technological advances. Yet ignoring the Brazilian issues, what else is McCain doing than taking the money which would be spread out to farmers as subsidies and concentrating it on one person, who should be making enough money already? Lots of little subsidies, or one giant one? I don’t think subsidies are the issue here.

I think the environment is the issue. Backing up that statement is McCain’s proposal to give a $5,000 tax credit to everyone who buys a zero-emissions car.

It’s not really capitalism he’s after. It’s you and me shelling out millions at the government’s whim to fund what it deems to be ‘right’  (aka ‘opposite of capitalism’).

While you can note keeping the environment healthy as a worthy goal, why is McCain trying to tiptoe around it? Because it shows how much of a control freak he is? Or he doesn’t want a ‘tree-hugger’ label? Or what?

Any other comments or ideas or sneaky theories I have missed?

I did go see Iron Man again, and surreptitiously recorded the one line I couldn’t remember the first time. Hey, it was dark, a pencil and paper would hardly have worked, so I had to resort to frowned-upon measures. All for a good cause. (Namely my peace of mind, b/c I was going nuts trying to figure out the quote.)

For the puzzled, I am referring to this ridiculously long post.

I enjoyed it as much the second time around. The quote I wanted was from the perfectly awkward party scene where Tony showed up unexpectedly.

One or two words are a little sketchy, as my cell-phone-in-hoodie-pocket method does not produce the best quality, but there you are.

Tony: You wanna dance?
Pepper: Oh no, thank you.
Tony: C’mon.
Pepper: No.
*they dance. it’s awkward*
Tony: Am I making you uncomfortable?
Pepper: Oh, uh, no. I always forget to wear deodorant and dance with my boss in front of everyone that I work with in a dress with no back.
Tony: You look great, you smell great.
Pepper: Uh . . .
Tony: But I could fire you if that would take the edge off.

They then went out to the balcony, and Pepper understandably digressed/freaked out about being seen as a money-grubbing tramp. 

I remember seeing a kiss in one of the trailers, but it wasn’t in the movie. It may have been an alternate take on the balcony scene. I’m glad they used the version they did, though I hope the other version shows up in the extras.

I also stayed through the credits to see the end scene, which could be more correctly described as an end snippet. Yes I could have seen it on YouTube, but that is not the point. Is sitting through 7 minutes worth of credits the point, you ask? Well, I’m really not sure, but I have a feeling there’s a principle in there somewhere that I need to uphold. Oh, and 7 minutes isn’t long - Pirates 3 credits were 16 (I know this because I went with my brother and his friends and Ray J - one of said friends - timed the credits. I am not obsessive like that.           About credits.)

So there you have it. I’m sure you were all in suspense until now. You can breathe again.

Oh, and just for good measure . . .

Since my first post on this subject was lacking, I felt like expounding on the subject. I look back and think maybe I should be that spontaneous . . . not to call a cab for the express purpose of taking me somewhere for 78 cent goodness, b/c that would be a little excessive unless I’d lost a bet, but to just say ‘hey, stop here’ and throw the worry out the window for a minute. But relax, other than that digression and the subject the two posts are unrelated.

Wednesday at work was draaaaagggg   ii  nnnn  gggggg itself on and on and on and I started thinking about that old fable (fairy tale? story?) about a boy named Peter whose fairy godmother gave him a magic ball of yarn and whenever he pulled on it, time would fly by.

After 11 different google word combinations, I discovered I had the details wrong, except the boy’s name wasPeter. (How I got that right and not the old woman and thread, I don’t know.) Also, it’s from the Book of Virtues. since it can’t be a virtue, does having the obvious moral and virtuous object lesson make it a fable? I dunno, and I guess it really makes no difference.

Anyways, if you don’t know it, read it here. Otherwise, just keep reading. (Warning: those of you who do not read the story but scroll down immediately will prove my point.)

As I was at work pondering this (misremembered) story - while of course accomplishing all of my tasks with utmost expediency - I wondered ’what would I be tempted to skip?’ Well, hours on end at work was the most obvious. What else?

This morning I got up to go running . . . yech. Would I skip the constant motions part to just enjoy the benefits? (If I could skip, I would probably decide to run longer, too.)

I honestly would not be tempted to skip most of my classes. Well, meebe just a few.

What about skipping some of the worse times I’ve been injured or recuperating? Besides the pain and lack of sleep my injuries caused, crutches are difficult to maneuver. (Although the extension is nice to smack your brother with, and I even got running down pretty well.) Plus they hurt your armpits. A lot. The worst part, however, may have been having to use those shopping buggy things at Walmart. *shudder*

I could also skip  at least one concussion, a stretch of hours every month, a nasty wisdom tooth extraction/subsequent complications, and a couple trips to the ER. And hangnails - gotta hate hangnails.

I wouldn’t want to skip any most a lot of the stupid stuff I’ve done, but the punishments for the ones I got caught for many of them are just crying out to be skimmed over.

I’ve had some arguements, stupid moments innumerable, and difficult, troubling circumstances that have been painful, and which memories are painful to this day.

Basically everything that first popped into my head was character-building stuff in my life. Now I am hardly an objective judge of how well my character has turned out so far, but rest assured it would be far worse without the disappointments, the fights and arguments, the pain, the tough stuff. Good character is built slowly and painfully. It isn’t a typical modern instantly-gratified wish. (Maybe that’s why so many modern people seem to be lacking it. It’s too easy for people nowdays to have it too easy.)

Obviously I’d still reap some practical benefits (tan, knowledge etc), because Peter grew in intellect and did not remain a 4th grader mentally, plus he was good at his trade as a carpenter.

But I wouldn’t appreciate my worn-out shoes, uneven tan and cardiovascular capabilities as much. I wouldn’t be as patient (not that I have an abundance of that virtue now). I would have the knowledge that had accumulated in my classes, but not the sense that came from mulling it all over and questioning and putting it to use. I wouldn’t enjoy my ability to walk as much (back to the buggy things - people stare, the aisles aren’t big enough, and it’s hard to reach stuff. I am sad for people who have to use them constantly, not just temporarily).

This knowledge and appreciation are things you have to earn slowly but surely. You appreciate what you’ve earned - and the tough times you earned them in - by living them. Of course things don’t always turn out well in the end. Sometimes tough times just bring more tough times, and ‘That’s life’ or ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ or any other platitudes I or anyone else can throw at you just don’t help. 

But what certainly would not help would be cutting out all the tough patches, leaving a holey past that we can’t see or remember enough of to learn from.

End of story.