Capricorn Horoscope for week of July 19, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
"Dear Rob: Last night I dreamt that I finally met the soulmate I've been looking for all these years. We were making love in a limousine that was driving us to the church where we would be married. Then a terrible thing happened. Right there in my arms, my perfect lover turned into a toothless, stinking geezer whose sparse white hair was falling out in my hands. I shrieked and ran out of the car. Can you interpret my dream for me? -Crushed Capricorn." Dear Crushed: Your dream may mean that your romantic ideals have become outmoded; your long-standing fantasies about what constitutes your perfect lover are no longer relevant. It's probably time to adjust your definitions.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
the Calling the Essay
The Calling.
I know its gonna be a good Mary Chapin Carpenter cd when there is a song that makes me cry. I found one at first listen on Time Sex Love, Grand Central Station upon my first live listening, and now the Calling. The dictionary defines “ a calling as • An inner urge or a strong impulse, or • An occupation, profession, or career. As Mary Chapin Carpenter was starting her professional career, I was starting mine… I am not sure about Mary Chapin but my calling found me….
Mine didn’t begin in NJ or CT or DC, it began in Massachusetts where through older friends or mentors, I decided to pursue a career in Jewish Communal Services but because I was advised that I could not get into Brandeis University and because I am a first generation college graduate and couldn’t afford it, and was made to believed that I wasn’t good enough, I entered Salem State as a Social Work major.. While at Salem two things happened.. (well more than that but those don’t pertain to my calling), I found a child welfare expert to mentor me and the program I was in was accredited by the Council on Social Work Education. My mentor, asking me why I choose child welfare, knew I that I had to tackle the hardest of all disciplines but also knew I that I needed exposure. She sent me to DSS in Lynn. They say…”Lynn Lynn the city of sin, you never come out the way you go in” that was true for me… After working with a 5 year old aphasic child and a 12 year old pregnant with her second baby, I found something I wanted to do…. But I knew I needed more education. Due to a series of missteps and errors, I ended up accepting the Masters Program at NYU. So I moved to NY for one year to attend NYU. While at NYU, I was placed on the lower east side in a child and adolescent mental health clinic. i met lots of kids who didn’t want to talk so I played for hours with them, including the gang wannabe teens. You cant imagine what that experience did to a 23 year old.
After graduating from NYU in 1983, I started working in Foster Care as an emergency worker for 14,500 a year. At that salary, I paid rent, student loans and survived (I guess it was a calling). My calling took to me the South Bronx and most of the project of NYC. It took me prison, both Rikers Island and Bedford Women’s prison to bring children to visit their parents. My calling had me spend countless hours in court and in hospital emergency rooms, including the night I slept on the gurney in a city hospital waiting for a child psych bed to open up at Kings County Hospital. My work exposed me to parents with AIDS and their HIV infected kids, crack addicts, heroine junkies, child abusers, sexual molesters and their compulsions. I had to take toddlers for GYN exams for their molestation. I worked with suicidal children as young as 5 and pregnant teenagers.
I got scabies and ringworm but never the chickenpox. I was peed on, and vomited on but clothes can be cleaned, diapers can be changed and hands can be washed. I met kids who were burned with cigarettes and irons. I met survivors of domestic violence and domestic disputes. I met kids who muled drugs from Nigeria and Mexico. I saw burned out buildings, crack houses and worked with women who prostitute. I met parents who tried to sell their kids at Port Authority and those who abandoned their kids in the hospital.
I was honored to bring children to families that would later adopt them. I attended multiple adoption hearings and testified to terminate parental rights but 85% of the children I worked with were released to their parents or relatives. The rest were adopted by people who wanted to adopt them. And ofcourse, I testified before Judge Judy in Manhattan Family Court.
I parented kids when no one else was there to parent them and I was there to love them when no one else did either. I parented parents because no one else seemed to do that either. I made sure children were safe and even told parents that their children had died when one little boy had a seizure and could not be revived. I have been to more funerals for children than I would have liked to attend. Deaths from Aids, child abuse and SIDS….
I later worked to get teenagers back into school programs or to help their families when they felt their kids were out of control. I helped gay and lesbian kids try to find themselves when their parents didn’t understand them. I helped gang involved or gang wannabe kids, pregnant teens, immigrant teens getting adjusted. I met teenagers with bad skin and raging hormones. I met kids who sold their Nintendo for winter coats and had to work to help their families out. I met teenagers who taught me about Eminem and teens I taught about Bob Dylan. I met their parents who needed help parenting them and many time I was the parent when the parents were exhausted. I met kids on drugs and parents on drugs. I met those kids who were adopted 10 years prior and were having difficulties during adolescents. All I did was help them when and where I could.
I found that I actually acquired a second calling….. teaching. Oh, great another calling where you don’t make much money…( I have made less money in my career than Paris Hilton spends on Doggie Clothes) – I started teaching four years ago on a part time basis- I have taught parenting classes, foster parent classes and college courses. I have taught courses in thing I have known…. Now I am a teacher full time. I teach inexperienced child welfare workers how to figure out if a child is safe and to keep children safe. I am suppose to teach them how to help people and how to form connections. Some come looking for a city job, some come looking for benefits, some come looking for a way to help and some will find that they cannot stand the people that they encounter and some will not care about them but then there are some who will find their calling. And I am sure I will find them….
Just as I was found…
I know its gonna be a good Mary Chapin Carpenter cd when there is a song that makes me cry. I found one at first listen on Time Sex Love, Grand Central Station upon my first live listening, and now the Calling. The dictionary defines “ a calling as • An inner urge or a strong impulse, or • An occupation, profession, or career. As Mary Chapin Carpenter was starting her professional career, I was starting mine… I am not sure about Mary Chapin but my calling found me….
Mine didn’t begin in NJ or CT or DC, it began in Massachusetts where through older friends or mentors, I decided to pursue a career in Jewish Communal Services but because I was advised that I could not get into Brandeis University and because I am a first generation college graduate and couldn’t afford it, and was made to believed that I wasn’t good enough, I entered Salem State as a Social Work major.. While at Salem two things happened.. (well more than that but those don’t pertain to my calling), I found a child welfare expert to mentor me and the program I was in was accredited by the Council on Social Work Education. My mentor, asking me why I choose child welfare, knew I that I had to tackle the hardest of all disciplines but also knew I that I needed exposure. She sent me to DSS in Lynn. They say…”Lynn Lynn the city of sin, you never come out the way you go in” that was true for me… After working with a 5 year old aphasic child and a 12 year old pregnant with her second baby, I found something I wanted to do…. But I knew I needed more education. Due to a series of missteps and errors, I ended up accepting the Masters Program at NYU. So I moved to NY for one year to attend NYU. While at NYU, I was placed on the lower east side in a child and adolescent mental health clinic. i met lots of kids who didn’t want to talk so I played for hours with them, including the gang wannabe teens. You cant imagine what that experience did to a 23 year old.
After graduating from NYU in 1983, I started working in Foster Care as an emergency worker for 14,500 a year. At that salary, I paid rent, student loans and survived (I guess it was a calling). My calling took to me the South Bronx and most of the project of NYC. It took me prison, both Rikers Island and Bedford Women’s prison to bring children to visit their parents. My calling had me spend countless hours in court and in hospital emergency rooms, including the night I slept on the gurney in a city hospital waiting for a child psych bed to open up at Kings County Hospital. My work exposed me to parents with AIDS and their HIV infected kids, crack addicts, heroine junkies, child abusers, sexual molesters and their compulsions. I had to take toddlers for GYN exams for their molestation. I worked with suicidal children as young as 5 and pregnant teenagers.
I got scabies and ringworm but never the chickenpox. I was peed on, and vomited on but clothes can be cleaned, diapers can be changed and hands can be washed. I met kids who were burned with cigarettes and irons. I met survivors of domestic violence and domestic disputes. I met kids who muled drugs from Nigeria and Mexico. I saw burned out buildings, crack houses and worked with women who prostitute. I met parents who tried to sell their kids at Port Authority and those who abandoned their kids in the hospital.
I was honored to bring children to families that would later adopt them. I attended multiple adoption hearings and testified to terminate parental rights but 85% of the children I worked with were released to their parents or relatives. The rest were adopted by people who wanted to adopt them. And ofcourse, I testified before Judge Judy in Manhattan Family Court.
I parented kids when no one else was there to parent them and I was there to love them when no one else did either. I parented parents because no one else seemed to do that either. I made sure children were safe and even told parents that their children had died when one little boy had a seizure and could not be revived. I have been to more funerals for children than I would have liked to attend. Deaths from Aids, child abuse and SIDS….
I later worked to get teenagers back into school programs or to help their families when they felt their kids were out of control. I helped gay and lesbian kids try to find themselves when their parents didn’t understand them. I helped gang involved or gang wannabe kids, pregnant teens, immigrant teens getting adjusted. I met teenagers with bad skin and raging hormones. I met kids who sold their Nintendo for winter coats and had to work to help their families out. I met teenagers who taught me about Eminem and teens I taught about Bob Dylan. I met their parents who needed help parenting them and many time I was the parent when the parents were exhausted. I met kids on drugs and parents on drugs. I met those kids who were adopted 10 years prior and were having difficulties during adolescents. All I did was help them when and where I could.
I found that I actually acquired a second calling….. teaching. Oh, great another calling where you don’t make much money…( I have made less money in my career than Paris Hilton spends on Doggie Clothes) – I started teaching four years ago on a part time basis- I have taught parenting classes, foster parent classes and college courses. I have taught courses in thing I have known…. Now I am a teacher full time. I teach inexperienced child welfare workers how to figure out if a child is safe and to keep children safe. I am suppose to teach them how to help people and how to form connections. Some come looking for a city job, some come looking for benefits, some come looking for a way to help and some will find that they cannot stand the people that they encounter and some will not care about them but then there are some who will find their calling. And I am sure I will find them….
Just as I was found…
1 Check Thyself Before Thou Wreckest Thyself
A fabulous woman is self-aware, and knows that her personality and behavior have an effect on those around her.
2Thou Shalt Goeth, Girl
A fabulous woman is a confident and powerful woman.
3Thou Shalt Show Some Class
A fabulous woman knows the rules of etiquette and social interaction.
4 Thou Shalt Work What Thou Art Working With
A fabulous woman always looks her best.
5 Thou Shalt Spit Mad Game With Style
A fabulous woman knows how to communicate effectively.
6 Thou Shalt Mind Thy Money
A fabulous woman knows how to make, and keep her own money.
7 Thou Shalt Payeth It Back
A fabulous woman gives back to the community.
8 Thou Shalt Represent
A fabulous woman is media savvy.
9 Unless Thou Can Play, Thou Wilt Be Played
A fabulous woman knows how to play the relationship game.
10 Thou Shalt Be Fully Fabulous
NO RESERVATION SCREENING
NO RESERVATION master chef, Kate (CATHERINE ZETA-JONES) lives her life like she runs the kitchen at upscale 22 Bleecker Restaurant in Manhattan--with a no-nonsense intensity that both captivates and intimidates everyone around her. With breathtaking precision, she powers through each hectic shift, coordinating hundreds of meals, preparing delicate sauces, seasoning and simmering each dish to absolute perfection.
More at ease behind the scenes, she only leaves the sanctuary of her kitchen to accept compliments for one of her signature dishes, or, on rare occasions, to tangle with a customer who dares question her expertise. After work, most nights find her in bed before midnight, set to rise at dawn to beat her competition to the fish market for the next day's freshest selections.
Kate's perfectionist nature is put to the test when a brash new sous-chef joins her staff, the high-spirited and freewheeling Nick (AARON ECKHART). A rising culinary star himself, Nick favors opera while working and loves to make everyone around him laugh. His casual approach to both life and cuisine couldn't be more different from Kate's, yet the chemistry between them is undeniable...as is the discord, like forks clanging off a granite countertop.
It might be easier to deal with this turbulence at work if Kate wasn't already off-balance at home, struggling to connect with her nine-year-old niece, Zoe (ABIGAIL BRESLIN), who has recently--and very unexpectedly--come to live with her. A bright, perceptive child, more comfortable with fish sticks than foie gras, Zoe is clearly out of place in Kate's routine but Kate is determined to make a home for her...just as soon as she figures out how.
As the weeks progress, Kate is not sure what steams her more--that Nick's talent scores big points with 22 Bleecker's owner, Paula (PATRICIA CLARKSON), and its discriminating clientele, or that his easygoing charm quickly wins over the shy Zoe, who finds it easier to open up to him than to her aunt. But when he challenges the boundary between rivalry and romance, Kate finds herself questioning, for the first time in years, some of the choices and beliefs that have made her so self-sufficient and so safe.
If she wants to forge a real bond with Zoe, find happiness with Nick and rediscover her appetite for life, Kate will have to try something bold and new, and learn to express herself outside the realm of her kitchen.
That would be like trying to cook without a recipe. But, as Kate discovers, sometimes the best recipes are the ones you create yourself.
most likely to engage in conversation or striving for connections
Friday at the annual James Satterwhite Training Academy retreat, my colleagues granted me and two colleagues with the "award" of "Most likely to engage someone in a conversation." I have been struggling to decide if this was a strength or should be considered less than complimentary...
I think that my struggle is over....
In her book, saving graces, Elizabeth Edwards writes of her father...
..."my father didn't need that. He could reach for the hands of strangers. He would corral teenagers at a table and ask them what they liked. He could tell nurses in the clinic how pretty they were. Each girl he passed by he'd say " Could she be? Well, she must be. Here's a princess. Imagine that, a princess, right here in the mall?" He would chat with cashiers as if he knew them, complimenting them on their hair or their eyes or their speed with which they worked. By they time they left, my father would know the life stories of the family in the next lane at the bowling alley. Why not pass the time with a cashier? You're not doing anything anyway. why not make friends with a bowling family? He we were a bowling family too.
My father was doing something most of us do or want to do- reaching for connections. Now, he has and still is an extreme example. and probably as a consequence, so am I. I am most likely not to change either, because the connections i have make have enriched me, sustained me, they have strengthened me by holding me up when I needed it, and they have strengthened me by letting me hold up my end when it was needed. My life is immeasurably better because i know that although we may say grace differently, or may not know how to say it at all, we all need each other."
I think that my struggle is over....
In her book, saving graces, Elizabeth Edwards writes of her father...
..."my father didn't need that. He could reach for the hands of strangers. He would corral teenagers at a table and ask them what they liked. He could tell nurses in the clinic how pretty they were. Each girl he passed by he'd say " Could she be? Well, she must be. Here's a princess. Imagine that, a princess, right here in the mall?" He would chat with cashiers as if he knew them, complimenting them on their hair or their eyes or their speed with which they worked. By they time they left, my father would know the life stories of the family in the next lane at the bowling alley. Why not pass the time with a cashier? You're not doing anything anyway. why not make friends with a bowling family? He we were a bowling family too.
My father was doing something most of us do or want to do- reaching for connections. Now, he has and still is an extreme example. and probably as a consequence, so am I. I am most likely not to change either, because the connections i have make have enriched me, sustained me, they have strengthened me by holding me up when I needed it, and they have strengthened me by letting me hold up my end when it was needed. My life is immeasurably better because i know that although we may say grace differently, or may not know how to say it at all, we all need each other."
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
By A. O. SCOTT
Published: July 10, 2007
“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” the fifth movie in the series, begins, as most of the others have, with a spot of unpleasantness at the Dursleys, and ends with Harry facing down Lord Voldemort. The climactic battle between the young wizard (Daniel Radcliffe) and the Dark Lord (Ralph Fiennes) foreshadows the final, potentially fatal showdown we all suspect is coming in Book Seven, which will be published later this month.
Imelda Staunton, center, joins the Hogwarts faculty as a political appointee following an agenda. More Photos »
Anticipation of that event may be stealing some thunder from this movie — a rare instance of the book business beating Hollywood at its own hype-producing game — but between now and publication day on July 21, Potter fans can take some satisfaction in a sleek, swift and exciting adaptation of J. K. Rowling’s longest novel to date. Devotees of fine British acting, meanwhile, can savor the addition of Imelda Staunton (an Oscar nominee for “Vera Drake”) to the roster of first-rate thespians moonlighting as Hogwarts faculty.
Curiously enough, “Order of the Phoenix,” clocking in at a little over two and a quarter hours, is the shortest of the “Harry Potter” films. The nearly 900-page source has been elegantly streamlined by Michael Goldenberg, the screenwriter (who replaces Steve Kloves), and David Yates, the director (who follows Chris Columbus, Alfonso Cuarón and Mike Newell in the job). There is no Quidditch, and not many boarding-school diversions. Instead, “Order of the Phoenix,” which begins like a horror movie with a Dementor attack in a suburban underpass, proceeds as a tense and twisty political thriller, with clandestine meetings, bureaucratic skullduggery and intimations of conspiracy hanging in the air.
Mr. Yates, whose previous work has mainly been in television, is best known in Britain for “State of Play,” a brilliant mini- series about power, corruption and deceit. Those are among the themes he explores in this film, which depicts a wizard world riven by factionalism and threatened by chaos and inflexible authoritarianism. While Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic (Robert Hardy), maintains his highly suspect denial of Voldemort’s return, a coup at Hogwarts threatens the benevolent administration of Albus Dumbledore (Michael Gambon). Harry, meanwhile, has gone from prince to pariah, smeared in the magical press (where his name is rendered “Harry Plotter”) and subject to cold stares and whispers at school. Back in Harry’s early days at Hogwarts, Severus Snape (Alan Rickman), Harry’s foil and reluctant ally, sneered at the boy’s “celebrity.” But in this episode, the boy — if you can still call him that — encounters the darker side of fame.
Some of his schoolmates doubt his account of the death of Cedric Diggory, who was killed by Voldemort at the end of the previous film, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.” Dumbledore, Harry’s chief patron and protector over the years, seems to be keeping his distance, which leaves Harry feeling abandoned and betrayed. And more acutely, the pressures of being a designated hero — and possibly martyr — have begun to weigh on Harry, to isolate him from friends and to come between him and the possibility of a normal teenage life.
He does, at least, experience a first kiss with Cho Chang (Katie Leung), but that turns out to be a brief and equivocal moment of bliss. Whereas “Goblet of Fire” plunged Harry and his pals into the murky waters of awakening adolescent sexuality (or at least got their toes wet), “Order of the Phoenix” tackles the emotional storms that can buffet young people on their way to adulthood. Mr. Radcliffe, maturing as an actor in perfect time with his character, emphasizes Harry’s anger and self-pity. Mr. Yates frequently places him alone on one side of the frame, with Ron and Hermione (Rupert Grint and Emma Watson), his loyal but increasingly estranged friends, together on the other.
But this is not an Ingmar Bergman film, though perhaps Mr. Bergman can be coaxed into service for the film version of “Deathly Hallows,” the final book of the series. “Order of the Phoenix” has its grim, bleak elements, but it is also, after all, an installment in a mighty multimedia entertainment franchise. And like its predecessors, it manages to succeed as a piece of entertainment without quite fulfilling its potential as a movie. Perhaps by design, the films never quite live up to the books. This one proves to be absorbing but not transporting, a collection of interesting moments rather than a fully integrated dramatic experience. This may just be a consequence of the necessary open-endedness of the narrative, or of an understandable desire not to alienate “Potter” readers by taking too many cinematic chances.
Although “Order of the Phoenix” is not a great movie, it is a pretty good one, in part because it does not strain to overwhelm the audience with noise and sensation. There are some wonderful special-effects-aided set pieces — notably an early broomstick flight over London — and some that are less so. People waving wands at one another, even accompanied by bright lights and scary sounds, does not quite sate this moviegoer’s appetite for action. But the production design (by Stuart Craig) and the cinematography (by Slawomir Idziak) are frequently astonishing in their aptness and sophistication. The interiors of the Ministry of Magic offer a witty, nightmarish vision of wizardly bureaucracy, while Harry’s angst and loneliness register in Mr. Idziak’s cold, washed-out shades of blue.
The scariest color in his palette, however, turns out to be pink. That is the color favored by Dolores Umbridge (Ms. Staunton), whose cheery English-auntie demeanor masks a ruthlessly autocratic temperament. She posts proclamations on the Hogwarts walls, subjects violators to painful punishments and substitutes book learning for practical magic. Her purpose is to institute Minister Fudge’s head-in-the-sand policy with respect to the Voldemort threat, and she does a heck of a job.
Ms. Staunton joins an astonishing ensemble of serious actors who, in the best British tradition, refuse to condescend to the material, earning their paychecks and the gratitude of the grown-ups in the audience. Mr. Rickman has turned Snape (whose animus against Harry is partly explained here) into one of the most intriguingly ambiguous characters in modern movies, and it is always a treat to see the likes of Emma Thompson, David Thewlis and Gary Oldman, however briefly.
Even better, the Potter enterprise has become a breeding ground for the next generation of British acting talent. Mr. Radcliffe has already spread his wings (and dropped his pants) on the London stage, and cultural pessimists of my generation can take comfort in knowing that while our parents may have witnessed Malcolm McDowell and Julie Christie in their prime, our children will see Mr. Grint and Ms. Watson in theirs. “Order of the Phoenix” also introduces Evanna Lynch, a pale, wide-eyed 15-year-old nonprofessional from Ireland who, having read the book, decided that no one else could play Luna Lovegood, the weirdest witch at Hogwarts. It seems Ms. Lynch was right. She’s spellbinding.
“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). Its violence is intense, though not graphic, and some of its images are quite scary.
HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX
Opens tonight nationwide.
Directed by David Yates; written by Michael Goldenberg, based on the novel by J. K. Rowling; director of photography, Slawomir Idziak; edited by Mark Day; music by Nicholas Hooper; production designer, Stuart Craig; visual effects supervisor, Tim Burke; produced by David Heyman and David Barron; released by Warner Brothers Pictures. Running time: 138 minutes.
WITH: Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter), Rupert Grint (Ron Weasley), Emma Watson (Hermione Granger), Helena Bonham Carter (Bellatrix Lestrange), Robbie Coltrane (Rubeus Hagrid), Warwick Davis (Filius Flitwick), Ralph Fiennes (Lord Voldemort), Michael Gambon (Albus Dumbledore), Brendan Gleeson (Mad-Eye Moody), Richard Griffiths (Vernon Dursley), Jason Isaacs (Lucius Malfoy), Gary Oldman (Sirius Black), Alan Rickman (Severus Snape), Fiona Shaw (Petunia Dursley), Maggie Smith (Minerva McGonagall), Imelda Staunton (Dolores Umbridge), David Thewlis (Remus Lupin), Emma Thompson (Sybill Trelawney), Julie Walters (Mrs. Weasley), Robert Hardy (Cornelius Fudge), David Bradley (Argus Filch), Mark Williams (Arthur Weasley), Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy), Matthew Lewis (Neville Longbottom), Evanna Lynch (Luna Lovegood), Katie Leung (Cho Chang) and Harry Melling (Dudley Dursley).
Next Article in Movies (11 of 36) »
Published: July 10, 2007
“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix,” the fifth movie in the series, begins, as most of the others have, with a spot of unpleasantness at the Dursleys, and ends with Harry facing down Lord Voldemort. The climactic battle between the young wizard (Daniel Radcliffe) and the Dark Lord (Ralph Fiennes) foreshadows the final, potentially fatal showdown we all suspect is coming in Book Seven, which will be published later this month.
Imelda Staunton, center, joins the Hogwarts faculty as a political appointee following an agenda. More Photos »
Anticipation of that event may be stealing some thunder from this movie — a rare instance of the book business beating Hollywood at its own hype-producing game — but between now and publication day on July 21, Potter fans can take some satisfaction in a sleek, swift and exciting adaptation of J. K. Rowling’s longest novel to date. Devotees of fine British acting, meanwhile, can savor the addition of Imelda Staunton (an Oscar nominee for “Vera Drake”) to the roster of first-rate thespians moonlighting as Hogwarts faculty.
Curiously enough, “Order of the Phoenix,” clocking in at a little over two and a quarter hours, is the shortest of the “Harry Potter” films. The nearly 900-page source has been elegantly streamlined by Michael Goldenberg, the screenwriter (who replaces Steve Kloves), and David Yates, the director (who follows Chris Columbus, Alfonso Cuarón and Mike Newell in the job). There is no Quidditch, and not many boarding-school diversions. Instead, “Order of the Phoenix,” which begins like a horror movie with a Dementor attack in a suburban underpass, proceeds as a tense and twisty political thriller, with clandestine meetings, bureaucratic skullduggery and intimations of conspiracy hanging in the air.
Mr. Yates, whose previous work has mainly been in television, is best known in Britain for “State of Play,” a brilliant mini- series about power, corruption and deceit. Those are among the themes he explores in this film, which depicts a wizard world riven by factionalism and threatened by chaos and inflexible authoritarianism. While Cornelius Fudge, the minister of magic (Robert Hardy), maintains his highly suspect denial of Voldemort’s return, a coup at Hogwarts threatens the benevolent administration of Albus Dumbledore (Michael Gambon). Harry, meanwhile, has gone from prince to pariah, smeared in the magical press (where his name is rendered “Harry Plotter”) and subject to cold stares and whispers at school. Back in Harry’s early days at Hogwarts, Severus Snape (Alan Rickman), Harry’s foil and reluctant ally, sneered at the boy’s “celebrity.” But in this episode, the boy — if you can still call him that — encounters the darker side of fame.
Some of his schoolmates doubt his account of the death of Cedric Diggory, who was killed by Voldemort at the end of the previous film, “Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.” Dumbledore, Harry’s chief patron and protector over the years, seems to be keeping his distance, which leaves Harry feeling abandoned and betrayed. And more acutely, the pressures of being a designated hero — and possibly martyr — have begun to weigh on Harry, to isolate him from friends and to come between him and the possibility of a normal teenage life.
He does, at least, experience a first kiss with Cho Chang (Katie Leung), but that turns out to be a brief and equivocal moment of bliss. Whereas “Goblet of Fire” plunged Harry and his pals into the murky waters of awakening adolescent sexuality (or at least got their toes wet), “Order of the Phoenix” tackles the emotional storms that can buffet young people on their way to adulthood. Mr. Radcliffe, maturing as an actor in perfect time with his character, emphasizes Harry’s anger and self-pity. Mr. Yates frequently places him alone on one side of the frame, with Ron and Hermione (Rupert Grint and Emma Watson), his loyal but increasingly estranged friends, together on the other.
But this is not an Ingmar Bergman film, though perhaps Mr. Bergman can be coaxed into service for the film version of “Deathly Hallows,” the final book of the series. “Order of the Phoenix” has its grim, bleak elements, but it is also, after all, an installment in a mighty multimedia entertainment franchise. And like its predecessors, it manages to succeed as a piece of entertainment without quite fulfilling its potential as a movie. Perhaps by design, the films never quite live up to the books. This one proves to be absorbing but not transporting, a collection of interesting moments rather than a fully integrated dramatic experience. This may just be a consequence of the necessary open-endedness of the narrative, or of an understandable desire not to alienate “Potter” readers by taking too many cinematic chances.
Although “Order of the Phoenix” is not a great movie, it is a pretty good one, in part because it does not strain to overwhelm the audience with noise and sensation. There are some wonderful special-effects-aided set pieces — notably an early broomstick flight over London — and some that are less so. People waving wands at one another, even accompanied by bright lights and scary sounds, does not quite sate this moviegoer’s appetite for action. But the production design (by Stuart Craig) and the cinematography (by Slawomir Idziak) are frequently astonishing in their aptness and sophistication. The interiors of the Ministry of Magic offer a witty, nightmarish vision of wizardly bureaucracy, while Harry’s angst and loneliness register in Mr. Idziak’s cold, washed-out shades of blue.
The scariest color in his palette, however, turns out to be pink. That is the color favored by Dolores Umbridge (Ms. Staunton), whose cheery English-auntie demeanor masks a ruthlessly autocratic temperament. She posts proclamations on the Hogwarts walls, subjects violators to painful punishments and substitutes book learning for practical magic. Her purpose is to institute Minister Fudge’s head-in-the-sand policy with respect to the Voldemort threat, and she does a heck of a job.
Ms. Staunton joins an astonishing ensemble of serious actors who, in the best British tradition, refuse to condescend to the material, earning their paychecks and the gratitude of the grown-ups in the audience. Mr. Rickman has turned Snape (whose animus against Harry is partly explained here) into one of the most intriguingly ambiguous characters in modern movies, and it is always a treat to see the likes of Emma Thompson, David Thewlis and Gary Oldman, however briefly.
Even better, the Potter enterprise has become a breeding ground for the next generation of British acting talent. Mr. Radcliffe has already spread his wings (and dropped his pants) on the London stage, and cultural pessimists of my generation can take comfort in knowing that while our parents may have witnessed Malcolm McDowell and Julie Christie in their prime, our children will see Mr. Grint and Ms. Watson in theirs. “Order of the Phoenix” also introduces Evanna Lynch, a pale, wide-eyed 15-year-old nonprofessional from Ireland who, having read the book, decided that no one else could play Luna Lovegood, the weirdest witch at Hogwarts. It seems Ms. Lynch was right. She’s spellbinding.
“Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” is rated PG-13 (Parents strongly cautioned). Its violence is intense, though not graphic, and some of its images are quite scary.
HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX
Opens tonight nationwide.
Directed by David Yates; written by Michael Goldenberg, based on the novel by J. K. Rowling; director of photography, Slawomir Idziak; edited by Mark Day; music by Nicholas Hooper; production designer, Stuart Craig; visual effects supervisor, Tim Burke; produced by David Heyman and David Barron; released by Warner Brothers Pictures. Running time: 138 minutes.
WITH: Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter), Rupert Grint (Ron Weasley), Emma Watson (Hermione Granger), Helena Bonham Carter (Bellatrix Lestrange), Robbie Coltrane (Rubeus Hagrid), Warwick Davis (Filius Flitwick), Ralph Fiennes (Lord Voldemort), Michael Gambon (Albus Dumbledore), Brendan Gleeson (Mad-Eye Moody), Richard Griffiths (Vernon Dursley), Jason Isaacs (Lucius Malfoy), Gary Oldman (Sirius Black), Alan Rickman (Severus Snape), Fiona Shaw (Petunia Dursley), Maggie Smith (Minerva McGonagall), Imelda Staunton (Dolores Umbridge), David Thewlis (Remus Lupin), Emma Thompson (Sybill Trelawney), Julie Walters (Mrs. Weasley), Robert Hardy (Cornelius Fudge), David Bradley (Argus Filch), Mark Williams (Arthur Weasley), Tom Felton (Draco Malfoy), Matthew Lewis (Neville Longbottom), Evanna Lynch (Luna Lovegood), Katie Leung (Cho Chang) and Harry Melling (Dudley Dursley).
Next Article in Movies (11 of 36) »
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of July 12, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of July 12, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
A misguided swan became infatuated with a pedal boat at a pond in Hamburg, Germany. Apparently mistaking it for his soul mate, the devoted bird guarded the boat jealously and rarely left its side. The human owner of the boat found it amusing at first, but later regarded it as a nuisance, since the enamored swan chased away all potential renters of the vehicle. I propose to make this poignant creature your anti-role model in the coming weeks, Capricorn. May he inspire you to free yourself of all delusions you have entertained over the years about the kind of intimate ally you need in order to
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
A misguided swan became infatuated with a pedal boat at a pond in Hamburg, Germany. Apparently mistaking it for his soul mate, the devoted bird guarded the boat jealously and rarely left its side. The human owner of the boat found it amusing at first, but later regarded it as a nuisance, since the enamored swan chased away all potential renters of the vehicle. I propose to make this poignant creature your anti-role model in the coming weeks, Capricorn. May he inspire you to free yourself of all delusions you have entertained over the years about the kind of intimate ally you need in order to
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of July 5, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of July 5, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
It's Unity Week. You have rich opportunities to negotiate truces, whip up collaborations, and knit together seemingly irreconcilable elements. Maybe it has previously seemed insane for you to try mixing oil and water, apples and oranges, or Israelis and Palestinians, but it makes sense now. You'll tend to attract good fortune whenever you conspire to turn matches made in hell into heavenly blends. Here's a motto to inspire your work, from the rebellious unification expert Gandhi: "Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
It's Unity Week. You have rich opportunities to negotiate truces, whip up collaborations, and knit together seemingly irreconcilable elements. Maybe it has previously seemed insane for you to try mixing oil and water, apples and oranges, or Israelis and Palestinians, but it makes sense now. You'll tend to attract good fortune whenever you conspire to turn matches made in hell into heavenly blends. Here's a motto to inspire your work, from the rebellious unification expert Gandhi: "Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Keith Olbermann delivers arguably his most pointed and most powerful Special Comment yet on the ramifications of Bush’s commutation of Libby’s sentenc
Keith Olbermann delivers arguably his most pointed and most powerful Special Comment yet on the ramifications of Bush’s commutation of Libby’s sentence.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you broke that fundamental compact between yourself and the majority of this nation’s citizens — the ones who did not cast votes for you.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you ceased to be the President of the United States.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you became merely the President… of a rabid and irresponsible corner of the Republican Party.
Transcripts below the fold…
Finally tonight, as promised, a Special Comment on what is, in everything but name, George Bush’s pardon of Scooter Libby.
“I didn’t vote for him,” an American once said, “But he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.”
That — on this eve of the 4th of July — is the essence of this democracy, in seventeen words.
And that is what President Bush threw away yesterday in commuting the sentence of Lewis “Scooter” Libby.
The man who said those seventeen words — improbably enough — was the actor John Wayne.
And Wayne, an ultra-conservative, said them, when he learned of the hair’s-breadth election of John F. Kennedy instead of his personal favorite, Richard Nixon in 1960.
“I didn’t vote for him but he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.”
The sentiment was doubtlessly expressed earlier. But there is something especially appropriate about hearing it, now, in Wayne’s voice.
The crisp matter-of-fact acknowledgement that we have survived, even though for nearly two centuries now, our Commander-in-Chief has also served, simultaneously, as the head of one political party and often the scourge of all others.
We as citizens must, at some point, ignore a president’s partisanship. Not that we may “prosper” as a nation, not that we may “achieve”, not that we may “lead the world” — but merely that we may “function.”
But just as essential to the seventeen words of John Wayne is an implicit trust — a sacred trust:That the president for whom so many did not vote, can in turn suspend his political self long enough, and for matters imperative enough, to conduct himself solely for the benefit of the entire Republic.
Our generation’s willingness to state “we didn’t vote for him, but he’s our president, and we hope he does a good job,” was tested in the crucible of history, and far earlier than most. And in circumstances more tragic and threatening.
And we did that with which history tasked us.
We enveloped “our” President in 2001.
And those who did not believe he should have been elected — indeed, those who did not believe he had been elected — willingly lowered their voices and assented to the sacred oath of non-partisanship.
And George W. Bush took our assent, and re-configured it, and honed it, and sharpened it to a razor-sharp point, and stabbed this nation in the back with it.
Were there any remaining lingering doubt otherwise, or any remaining lingering hope, it ended yesterday when Mr. Bush commuted the prison sentence of one of his own staffers.
Did so even before the appeals process was complete…
Did so without as much as a courtesy consultation with the Department of Justice…
Did so despite what James Madison –at the Constitutional Convention — said about impeaching any president who pardoned or sheltered those who had committed crimes “advised by” that president…
Did so without the slightest concern that even the most detached of citizens must look at the chain of events and wonder:
To what degree was Mr. Libby told: break the law however you wish — the President will keep you out of prison?
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you broke that fundamental compact between yourself and the majority of this nation’s citizens — the ones who did not cast votes for you.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you ceased to be the President of the United States.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you became merely the President… of a rabid and irresponsible corner of the Republican Party.
And this is too important a time, sir, to have a Commander-in-Chief who puts party over nation.
This has been, of course, the gathering legacy of this Administration. Few of its decisions have escaped the stain of politics.
The extraordinary Karl Rove has spoken of “a permanent Republican majority,” as if such a thing — or a permanent Democratic majority — is not antithetical to that upon which rests: our country, our history, our revolution, our freedoms.
Yet our democracy has survived shrewder men than Karl Rove.
And it has survived the frequent stain of politics upon the fabric of government.
But this administration, with ever-increasing insistence and almost theocratic zealotry, has turned that stain… into a massive oil spill.
The protection of the environment is turned over to those of one political party, who will financially benefit from the rape of the environment.
The protections of the Constitution are turned over to those of one political party, who believe those protections unnecessary and extravagant and “quaint.”
The enforcement of the laws is turned over to those of one political party, who will swear beforehand that they will not enforce those laws.
The choice between war and peace is turned over to those of one political party, who stand to gain vast wealth by ensuring that there is never peace, but only war.
And now, when just one cooked book gets corrected by an honest auditor…
When just one trampling of the inherent and inviolable “fairness” of government is rejected by an impartial judge…
When just one wild-eyed partisan is stopped by the figure of blind justice…
This President decides that he, and not the law, must prevail.
I accuse you, Mr. Bush, of lying this country into war.
I accuse you of fabricating in the minds of your own people, a false implied link between Saddam Hussein and 9/11.
I accuse you of firing the generals who told you that the plans for Iraq were disastrously insufficient.
I accuse you of causing in Iraq the needless deaths of 3,586 of our brothers and sons, and sisters and daughters, and friends and neighbors.
I accuse you of subverting the Constitution, not in some misguided but sincerely-motivated struggle to combat terrorists, but instead to stifle dissent.
I accuse you of fomenting fear among your own people, of creating the very terror you claim to have fought.
I accuse you of exploiting that unreasoning fear, the natural fear of your own people who just want to live their lives in peace, as a political tool to slander your critics and libel your opponents.
I accuse you of handing part of this republic over to a Vice President who is without conscience, and letting him run roughshod over it.
And I accuse you now, Mr. Bush, of giving, through that Vice President, carte blanche to Mr. Libby, to help defame Ambassador Joseph Wilson by any means necessary, to lie to Grand Juries and Special Counsel and before a court, in order to protect the mechanisms and particulars of that defamation, with your guarantee that Libby would never see prison, and, in so doing, as Ambassador Wilson himself phrased it here last night, of you becoming an accessory to the obstruction of justice.
When President Nixon ordered the firing of the Watergate special prosecutor Archibald Cox during the infamous “Saturday Night Massacre” on October 20th, 1973, Mr. Cox initially responded tersely, and ominously:
“Whether ours shall be a government of laws and not of men, is now for Congress, and ultimately, the American people.”
President Nixon did not understand how he had crystallized the issue of Watergate for the American people.
It had been about the obscure meaning behind an attempt to break in to a rival party’s headquarters; and the labyrinthine effort to cover-up that break-in and the related crimes.
But in one night, Nixon transformed it.
Watergate — instantaneously — became a simpler issue: a President overruling the inexorable march of the law. Of insisting — in a way that resonated viscerally with millions who had not previously understood — that he was the law.
Not the Constitution.
Not the Congress.
Not the Courts.
Just him.
Just - Mr. Bush - as you did, yesterday.
The twists and turns of Plame-Gate, your precise and intricate lies that sent us into this bottomless pit of Iraq; your lies upon the lies to discredit Joe Wilson; your lies upon the lies upon the lies to throw the sand at the “referee” of Prosecutor Fitzgerald’s analogy… these are complex and often painful to follow, and too much, perhaps, for the average citizen.
But when other citizens render a verdict against your man, Mr. Bush — and then you spit in the faces of those jurors and that judge and the judges who were yet to hear the appeal — the average citizen understands that, sir.
It’s the fixed ballgame and the rigged casino and the pre-arranged lottery all rolled into one — and it stinks. And they know it.
Nixon’s mistake, the last and most fatal of them, the firing of Archibald Cox, was enough to cost him the presidency.
And in the end, even Richard Nixon could say he could not put this nation through an impeachment.
It was far too late for it to matter then, but as the decades unfold, that single final gesture of non-partisanship, of acknowledged responsibility not to self, not to party, not to “base,” but to country, echoes loudly into history.
Even Richard Nixon knew it was time to resign
Would that you could say that, Mr. Bush.
And that you could say it for Mr. Cheney.
You both crossed the Rubicon yesterday.
Which one of you chose the route, no longer matters.
Which is the ventriloquist, and which the dummy, is irrelevant.
But that you have twisted the machinery of government into nothing more than a tawdry machine of politics, is the only fact that remains relevant.
It is nearly July 4th, Mr. Bush, the commemoration of the moment we Americans decided that rather than live under a King who made up the laws, or erased them, or ignored them — or commuted the sentences of those rightly convicted under them — we would force our independence, and regain our sacred freedoms.
We of this time — and our leaders in Congress, of both parties — must now live up to those standards which echo through our history:
Pressure, negotiate, impeach — get you, Mr. Bush, and Mr. Cheney, two men who are now perilous to our Democracy, away from its helm.
And for you, Mr. Bush, and for Mr. Cheney, there is a lesser task.
You need merely achieve a very low threshold indeed.
Display just that iota of patriotism which Richard Nixon showed, on August 9th, 1974.
Resign.
And give us someone — anyone – about whom all of us might yet be able to quote John Wayne, and say, “I didn’t vote for him, but he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.”
Good night, and good luck.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you broke that fundamental compact between yourself and the majority of this nation’s citizens — the ones who did not cast votes for you.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you ceased to be the President of the United States.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you became merely the President… of a rabid and irresponsible corner of the Republican Party.
Transcripts below the fold…
Finally tonight, as promised, a Special Comment on what is, in everything but name, George Bush’s pardon of Scooter Libby.
“I didn’t vote for him,” an American once said, “But he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.”
That — on this eve of the 4th of July — is the essence of this democracy, in seventeen words.
And that is what President Bush threw away yesterday in commuting the sentence of Lewis “Scooter” Libby.
The man who said those seventeen words — improbably enough — was the actor John Wayne.
And Wayne, an ultra-conservative, said them, when he learned of the hair’s-breadth election of John F. Kennedy instead of his personal favorite, Richard Nixon in 1960.
“I didn’t vote for him but he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.”
The sentiment was doubtlessly expressed earlier. But there is something especially appropriate about hearing it, now, in Wayne’s voice.
The crisp matter-of-fact acknowledgement that we have survived, even though for nearly two centuries now, our Commander-in-Chief has also served, simultaneously, as the head of one political party and often the scourge of all others.
We as citizens must, at some point, ignore a president’s partisanship. Not that we may “prosper” as a nation, not that we may “achieve”, not that we may “lead the world” — but merely that we may “function.”
But just as essential to the seventeen words of John Wayne is an implicit trust — a sacred trust:That the president for whom so many did not vote, can in turn suspend his political self long enough, and for matters imperative enough, to conduct himself solely for the benefit of the entire Republic.
Our generation’s willingness to state “we didn’t vote for him, but he’s our president, and we hope he does a good job,” was tested in the crucible of history, and far earlier than most. And in circumstances more tragic and threatening.
And we did that with which history tasked us.
We enveloped “our” President in 2001.
And those who did not believe he should have been elected — indeed, those who did not believe he had been elected — willingly lowered their voices and assented to the sacred oath of non-partisanship.
And George W. Bush took our assent, and re-configured it, and honed it, and sharpened it to a razor-sharp point, and stabbed this nation in the back with it.
Were there any remaining lingering doubt otherwise, or any remaining lingering hope, it ended yesterday when Mr. Bush commuted the prison sentence of one of his own staffers.
Did so even before the appeals process was complete…
Did so without as much as a courtesy consultation with the Department of Justice…
Did so despite what James Madison –at the Constitutional Convention — said about impeaching any president who pardoned or sheltered those who had committed crimes “advised by” that president…
Did so without the slightest concern that even the most detached of citizens must look at the chain of events and wonder:
To what degree was Mr. Libby told: break the law however you wish — the President will keep you out of prison?
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you broke that fundamental compact between yourself and the majority of this nation’s citizens — the ones who did not cast votes for you.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you ceased to be the President of the United States.
In that moment, Mr. Bush, you became merely the President… of a rabid and irresponsible corner of the Republican Party.
And this is too important a time, sir, to have a Commander-in-Chief who puts party over nation.
This has been, of course, the gathering legacy of this Administration. Few of its decisions have escaped the stain of politics.
The extraordinary Karl Rove has spoken of “a permanent Republican majority,” as if such a thing — or a permanent Democratic majority — is not antithetical to that upon which rests: our country, our history, our revolution, our freedoms.
Yet our democracy has survived shrewder men than Karl Rove.
And it has survived the frequent stain of politics upon the fabric of government.
But this administration, with ever-increasing insistence and almost theocratic zealotry, has turned that stain… into a massive oil spill.
The protection of the environment is turned over to those of one political party, who will financially benefit from the rape of the environment.
The protections of the Constitution are turned over to those of one political party, who believe those protections unnecessary and extravagant and “quaint.”
The enforcement of the laws is turned over to those of one political party, who will swear beforehand that they will not enforce those laws.
The choice between war and peace is turned over to those of one political party, who stand to gain vast wealth by ensuring that there is never peace, but only war.
And now, when just one cooked book gets corrected by an honest auditor…
When just one trampling of the inherent and inviolable “fairness” of government is rejected by an impartial judge…
When just one wild-eyed partisan is stopped by the figure of blind justice…
This President decides that he, and not the law, must prevail.
I accuse you, Mr. Bush, of lying this country into war.
I accuse you of fabricating in the minds of your own people, a false implied link between Saddam Hussein and 9/11.
I accuse you of firing the generals who told you that the plans for Iraq were disastrously insufficient.
I accuse you of causing in Iraq the needless deaths of 3,586 of our brothers and sons, and sisters and daughters, and friends and neighbors.
I accuse you of subverting the Constitution, not in some misguided but sincerely-motivated struggle to combat terrorists, but instead to stifle dissent.
I accuse you of fomenting fear among your own people, of creating the very terror you claim to have fought.
I accuse you of exploiting that unreasoning fear, the natural fear of your own people who just want to live their lives in peace, as a political tool to slander your critics and libel your opponents.
I accuse you of handing part of this republic over to a Vice President who is without conscience, and letting him run roughshod over it.
And I accuse you now, Mr. Bush, of giving, through that Vice President, carte blanche to Mr. Libby, to help defame Ambassador Joseph Wilson by any means necessary, to lie to Grand Juries and Special Counsel and before a court, in order to protect the mechanisms and particulars of that defamation, with your guarantee that Libby would never see prison, and, in so doing, as Ambassador Wilson himself phrased it here last night, of you becoming an accessory to the obstruction of justice.
When President Nixon ordered the firing of the Watergate special prosecutor Archibald Cox during the infamous “Saturday Night Massacre” on October 20th, 1973, Mr. Cox initially responded tersely, and ominously:
“Whether ours shall be a government of laws and not of men, is now for Congress, and ultimately, the American people.”
President Nixon did not understand how he had crystallized the issue of Watergate for the American people.
It had been about the obscure meaning behind an attempt to break in to a rival party’s headquarters; and the labyrinthine effort to cover-up that break-in and the related crimes.
But in one night, Nixon transformed it.
Watergate — instantaneously — became a simpler issue: a President overruling the inexorable march of the law. Of insisting — in a way that resonated viscerally with millions who had not previously understood — that he was the law.
Not the Constitution.
Not the Congress.
Not the Courts.
Just him.
Just - Mr. Bush - as you did, yesterday.
The twists and turns of Plame-Gate, your precise and intricate lies that sent us into this bottomless pit of Iraq; your lies upon the lies to discredit Joe Wilson; your lies upon the lies upon the lies to throw the sand at the “referee” of Prosecutor Fitzgerald’s analogy… these are complex and often painful to follow, and too much, perhaps, for the average citizen.
But when other citizens render a verdict against your man, Mr. Bush — and then you spit in the faces of those jurors and that judge and the judges who were yet to hear the appeal — the average citizen understands that, sir.
It’s the fixed ballgame and the rigged casino and the pre-arranged lottery all rolled into one — and it stinks. And they know it.
Nixon’s mistake, the last and most fatal of them, the firing of Archibald Cox, was enough to cost him the presidency.
And in the end, even Richard Nixon could say he could not put this nation through an impeachment.
It was far too late for it to matter then, but as the decades unfold, that single final gesture of non-partisanship, of acknowledged responsibility not to self, not to party, not to “base,” but to country, echoes loudly into history.
Even Richard Nixon knew it was time to resign
Would that you could say that, Mr. Bush.
And that you could say it for Mr. Cheney.
You both crossed the Rubicon yesterday.
Which one of you chose the route, no longer matters.
Which is the ventriloquist, and which the dummy, is irrelevant.
But that you have twisted the machinery of government into nothing more than a tawdry machine of politics, is the only fact that remains relevant.
It is nearly July 4th, Mr. Bush, the commemoration of the moment we Americans decided that rather than live under a King who made up the laws, or erased them, or ignored them — or commuted the sentences of those rightly convicted under them — we would force our independence, and regain our sacred freedoms.
We of this time — and our leaders in Congress, of both parties — must now live up to those standards which echo through our history:
Pressure, negotiate, impeach — get you, Mr. Bush, and Mr. Cheney, two men who are now perilous to our Democracy, away from its helm.
And for you, Mr. Bush, and for Mr. Cheney, there is a lesser task.
You need merely achieve a very low threshold indeed.
Display just that iota of patriotism which Richard Nixon showed, on August 9th, 1974.
Resign.
And give us someone — anyone – about whom all of us might yet be able to quote John Wayne, and say, “I didn’t vote for him, but he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.”
Good night, and good luck.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Sunday, July 01, 2007
June 29-30 and July 1
http://www.aaswg.org/
Friday, i went to Jersey City to attend the Association for SW with Groups conference... OOOPs.... i went to work first and then realized i needed to be in NJ.... i boogied over there and attended three workshops and lunch and then on saturday, instead of going back, i went to my friend Nancy's 50th birthday party... I really thought that the conference was at the end of July.. i had gotten my dates screwed up and really felt badly that i screwed up and went to work instead of jersey city.. ACS employees dont seem to care and there were people who got there later and left early.. at least i was at work..
My Common Core group was taking their test and they ALL past so there is reason to celebrate...
We had a good time at Nancys party and i came home to do some stuff and went off to see SICKO, Micheal Moore's look at the Medical Insurance industry....
it made me cry because the system is so bad and sucks....compared to European, Canadian and Cuba
Friday, i went to Jersey City to attend the Association for SW with Groups conference... OOOPs.... i went to work first and then realized i needed to be in NJ.... i boogied over there and attended three workshops and lunch and then on saturday, instead of going back, i went to my friend Nancy's 50th birthday party... I really thought that the conference was at the end of July.. i had gotten my dates screwed up and really felt badly that i screwed up and went to work instead of jersey city.. ACS employees dont seem to care and there were people who got there later and left early.. at least i was at work..
My Common Core group was taking their test and they ALL past so there is reason to celebrate...
We had a good time at Nancys party and i came home to do some stuff and went off to see SICKO, Micheal Moore's look at the Medical Insurance industry....
it made me cry because the system is so bad and sucks....compared to European, Canadian and Cuba
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of June 28, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of June 28, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
Welcome to Part Two of your outlook for the second half of 2007. We're checking up on how you're progressing with the long-term tasks you were assigned six months ago. By now you've probably figured out that it's the Year of Secrets. Truths that have long been hidden from you are emerging, and if you keep on probing, the rest will spill out between now and December. Certain feelings you have been concealing from yourself are also bubbling up into your awareness. Fuzzy understandings that have previously hindered your ability to see the big picture are finally coming into focus as well. Don't fear or resist these developments, Capricorn. They will free up a lot of blocked energy.
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
Welcome to Part Two of your outlook for the second half of 2007. We're checking up on how you're progressing with the long-term tasks you were assigned six months ago. By now you've probably figured out that it's the Year of Secrets. Truths that have long been hidden from you are emerging, and if you keep on probing, the rest will spill out between now and December. Certain feelings you have been concealing from yourself are also bubbling up into your awareness. Fuzzy understandings that have previously hindered your ability to see the big picture are finally coming into focus as well. Don't fear or resist these developments, Capricorn. They will free up a lot of blocked energy.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
still crazy after all these years
Everyday, i try to board the Q train so i can get a seat. i can take the express train but then i have to change at Atlantic Ave and its packed with city and court workers and wall streeters. So i sit every morning with the mothers taking their kids to school, the foreigners reading foreign papers and me with my IPOD and Newspaper. I change at 14th street.
When i am training, i am about 15 minutes ahead of myself. That has been for 30 days of the 6 months that i have worked at the Academy. Last Thursday, was a day like any other day, except i had my glasses on because my eyes were tired from school and trying to read, and trying to work on ITUNES til after midnight.
As i walked through the train station, i spot a familiar woman. A woman who i know who bent over to kiss me. We exchanged pleasantries. a quick catch up. What has happened since we ran into each other last time. For me, I change in jobs, because i lost my job and now a trainer at the ACS Academy. A summer of Maturnity leave..."where are the pictures of the children she asks?" A maturnity leave that fruited no children. A second career training CPS workers. She asks me if its "a good fit" i think it is. She tells me she got married a month ago. To a man or woman, I ask. She says a man. The man that i saw her with the last time i saw her. She is still in the same job and living in Peekskill. I hand her my work number and tell her my home number has changed. She repeats the phrase "its been a wild ride" that i said earlier in the conversation. She repeats it again.
I run into a colleague who i am fond of and i tell her of my chance meeting. A meeting with someone who was an important student or protege. Someone who i nurtured, trained, understood, loved like a child or as close to any child that i would give birth to. A woman who needed to be nurtured and needed parenting and i needed to parent. I needed to transmit my knowledge to someone. We worked together, we cried about clients, she tested my limits as a supervisor. She didnt want the disapproval but got it with love for the first time. She could complete my sentences and knew my clinical sense. She respected and needed me.
I know that i was the one who needed to change the relationship and i resented it when she could not be there for me when i needed someone, anyone, a friend the most. I expected her to be able to change roles and thought that there was a mutual friendship in this complicated relationship. It really was more complicated than that. It was a parent child relationship. Mentor-Mentee, Big sister, little sister but what it wasnt, it was not a friendship- it was not to be in the reverse. I could not depend. i could not ask for having my needs met, other than the needs i was receiving from being the teacher not student. when i needed more than she could give, or was used to giving.... i was angry and hurt and she was confused.
I am not sure that we can reconnect or be friends. we are not mutual friends. we will not be friends
When i am training, i am about 15 minutes ahead of myself. That has been for 30 days of the 6 months that i have worked at the Academy. Last Thursday, was a day like any other day, except i had my glasses on because my eyes were tired from school and trying to read, and trying to work on ITUNES til after midnight.
As i walked through the train station, i spot a familiar woman. A woman who i know who bent over to kiss me. We exchanged pleasantries. a quick catch up. What has happened since we ran into each other last time. For me, I change in jobs, because i lost my job and now a trainer at the ACS Academy. A summer of Maturnity leave..."where are the pictures of the children she asks?" A maturnity leave that fruited no children. A second career training CPS workers. She asks me if its "a good fit" i think it is. She tells me she got married a month ago. To a man or woman, I ask. She says a man. The man that i saw her with the last time i saw her. She is still in the same job and living in Peekskill. I hand her my work number and tell her my home number has changed. She repeats the phrase "its been a wild ride" that i said earlier in the conversation. She repeats it again.
I run into a colleague who i am fond of and i tell her of my chance meeting. A meeting with someone who was an important student or protege. Someone who i nurtured, trained, understood, loved like a child or as close to any child that i would give birth to. A woman who needed to be nurtured and needed parenting and i needed to parent. I needed to transmit my knowledge to someone. We worked together, we cried about clients, she tested my limits as a supervisor. She didnt want the disapproval but got it with love for the first time. She could complete my sentences and knew my clinical sense. She respected and needed me.
I know that i was the one who needed to change the relationship and i resented it when she could not be there for me when i needed someone, anyone, a friend the most. I expected her to be able to change roles and thought that there was a mutual friendship in this complicated relationship. It really was more complicated than that. It was a parent child relationship. Mentor-Mentee, Big sister, little sister but what it wasnt, it was not a friendship- it was not to be in the reverse. I could not depend. i could not ask for having my needs met, other than the needs i was receiving from being the teacher not student. when i needed more than she could give, or was used to giving.... i was angry and hurt and she was confused.
I am not sure that we can reconnect or be friends. we are not mutual friends. we will not be friends
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of June 21, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of June 21, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
We're almost halfway through 2007. Let's take inventory of how well you're capitalizing on this year's unique opportunities. Are you exorcising the ghosts that have messed with you for so long? Have you been wrapping up all unfinished business and resolving every ambiguous pain-in-the-ass that has sapped your energy? I hope so. By your next birthday, I'm rooting for you to finally graduate from the lessons you've been studying for years. Then you'll be primed and receptive for the fresh teachings that will begin flowing your way in 2008.
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
We're almost halfway through 2007. Let's take inventory of how well you're capitalizing on this year's unique opportunities. Are you exorcising the ghosts that have messed with you for so long? Have you been wrapping up all unfinished business and resolving every ambiguous pain-in-the-ass that has sapped your energy? I hope so. By your next birthday, I'm rooting for you to finally graduate from the lessons you've been studying for years. Then you'll be primed and receptive for the fresh teachings that will begin flowing your way in 2008.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Civil Service Exam 1- Staff Analyst Trainee
Yesterday, i was to take the STaff Analyst Trainee Exam. its the entry level civil service exam within the title that i have. It will enable me to become a permanent "not provisional" employee and will allow me to take promotional exams. All that stuff doesnt mean much to me now.
I took the prep course at the Union office and swore each day that i would study. I never quite got to study and when i tried to read the test questions, they bored me or seemed too hard or were outside of my comfort zone so i generally gave up.
I knew that i needed some basic knowledge of statistics, depended on my ability to be a manager, supervisor and 30 years of work experience to get me through. So i was anxious or more anxious than i thought but didnt know where to start to study. I looked at the material all week briefly without really studying and i didnt buy the DVDs..
I did though take the prep course. so the test was called for 430pm at canarsie HS.
i got up later than usual and had coffee and relaxed and did chores and then headed over to get my toenails done. I read the material during the pedicure.
I packed fruit, cough drops, water, pencils, water and all in a clear bag. I was not to take in my cellphone but took the calculator that they sent me.
I took my ticket and directions and went to the HS. I ran into three people that i knew from the course and one person from my job
the test was to be at 430 and we started to line up at 330 and time passed on and passed on. the sky began to be overcast and seemed like it open up and rain. when it started to rain, they let us in to sit in the auditorium. Finally it was after 6pm when we were escorted to our rooms and instructions were given. we were to fill out cards, and forms and wait for the bell to start.
the bell started and the forms were opened. The exam was upside down and pages were a mess. The woman next to me had a scientfic calculator that wasnt caught til midway through and someone's cellphone kept ringing..( all of those against the rules)
I worked my way through the exam with ease. I did all the examples and did all the math even though i thought i could short cut the answers. Mid way through the exam. I saw an essay that you had to read and answer questions. the Topic Domestic violence. then authorizing people for SSI, Medicaid, Scrie or food stamps...then figuring out level of care under homemaking. I was feeling my social work comfort zone. Luckily, i was comfortable with the topic and could do the simple math and grammar. I also could do scheduling and apply personnel policies and procedures.
I think there were about 10 questions of 80 that i may have gotten wrong..
I got out of there after 930pm and was too late to get to prospect park for my friend's party and Joan Osbourne.
I knew that this was gonna be an adventure when i saw the Q train -Duracell battery salesman who sells his fake duracells on the train, taking the same test as i was..
He had two pencil protectors and plenty of pencils..
Me i had one #2 that broke so i was using a broken tip pencil through the test til i asked for another.
I was outrageous asking the monitors for the buffet line and bar and casino as we were so late in starting...no one had dinner or food so we were cranky and people left the exam. I knew the 430 start time would be a deterrent but i went and did my best anyway.
I took the prep course at the Union office and swore each day that i would study. I never quite got to study and when i tried to read the test questions, they bored me or seemed too hard or were outside of my comfort zone so i generally gave up.
I knew that i needed some basic knowledge of statistics, depended on my ability to be a manager, supervisor and 30 years of work experience to get me through. So i was anxious or more anxious than i thought but didnt know where to start to study. I looked at the material all week briefly without really studying and i didnt buy the DVDs..
I did though take the prep course. so the test was called for 430pm at canarsie HS.
i got up later than usual and had coffee and relaxed and did chores and then headed over to get my toenails done. I read the material during the pedicure.
I packed fruit, cough drops, water, pencils, water and all in a clear bag. I was not to take in my cellphone but took the calculator that they sent me.
I took my ticket and directions and went to the HS. I ran into three people that i knew from the course and one person from my job
the test was to be at 430 and we started to line up at 330 and time passed on and passed on. the sky began to be overcast and seemed like it open up and rain. when it started to rain, they let us in to sit in the auditorium. Finally it was after 6pm when we were escorted to our rooms and instructions were given. we were to fill out cards, and forms and wait for the bell to start.
the bell started and the forms were opened. The exam was upside down and pages were a mess. The woman next to me had a scientfic calculator that wasnt caught til midway through and someone's cellphone kept ringing..( all of those against the rules)
I worked my way through the exam with ease. I did all the examples and did all the math even though i thought i could short cut the answers. Mid way through the exam. I saw an essay that you had to read and answer questions. the Topic Domestic violence. then authorizing people for SSI, Medicaid, Scrie or food stamps...then figuring out level of care under homemaking. I was feeling my social work comfort zone. Luckily, i was comfortable with the topic and could do the simple math and grammar. I also could do scheduling and apply personnel policies and procedures.
I think there were about 10 questions of 80 that i may have gotten wrong..
I got out of there after 930pm and was too late to get to prospect park for my friend's party and Joan Osbourne.
I knew that this was gonna be an adventure when i saw the Q train -Duracell battery salesman who sells his fake duracells on the train, taking the same test as i was..
He had two pencil protectors and plenty of pencils..
Me i had one #2 that broke so i was using a broken tip pencil through the test til i asked for another.
I was outrageous asking the monitors for the buffet line and bar and casino as we were so late in starting...no one had dinner or food so we were cranky and people left the exam. I knew the 430 start time would be a deterrent but i went and did my best anyway.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Anniversary - Suzanne Vega
Fall in all attendant memories
Crowd the day with unrelated histories
Each year leaves its unresolving fantasies
That hang around each corner
Hang around each street
Thick with ghosts, the wind whips round in circuitries
Carrying words as strangers exchange pleasantries
Do they intrude upon your private reveries?
As they meet you on every corner
Meet you in each street
Watch for daily braveries
Notice new found courtesies
Finger sudden legacies
As they wash down every corner
Clean up every street
Mark the month and all its anniversaries
Put away the drafts of all your eulogies
Clear the way for all your possibilities
[Anniversary lyrics on http://www.metrolyrics.com]
'Cause they live upon each corner
Live on every street
Watch for daily braveries
Notice new found courtesies
Finger sudden legacies
As they wash down every corner
They clean up every street
Mark the month and all its anniversaries
Put away the drafts of all your eulogies
Clear the way for all your possibilities
'Cause they live upon each corner
They live on every street
They live upon each corner
They live on every street
Make the time for all your future revelries
Live on every street
Crowd the day with unrelated histories
Each year leaves its unresolving fantasies
That hang around each corner
Hang around each street
Thick with ghosts, the wind whips round in circuitries
Carrying words as strangers exchange pleasantries
Do they intrude upon your private reveries?
As they meet you on every corner
Meet you in each street
Watch for daily braveries
Notice new found courtesies
Finger sudden legacies
As they wash down every corner
Clean up every street
Mark the month and all its anniversaries
Put away the drafts of all your eulogies
Clear the way for all your possibilities
[Anniversary lyrics on http://www.metrolyrics.com]
'Cause they live upon each corner
Live on every street
Watch for daily braveries
Notice new found courtesies
Finger sudden legacies
As they wash down every corner
They clean up every street
Mark the month and all its anniversaries
Put away the drafts of all your eulogies
Clear the way for all your possibilities
'Cause they live upon each corner
They live on every street
They live upon each corner
They live on every street
Make the time for all your future revelries
Live on every street
Here I am Lyrics
Artist/Band: Carpenter Mary Chapin Carpenter
Lyrics for Song: Here I Am
Lyrics for Album: The Calling
I've waited longer for lesser things
But here I am
Who really knows what tomorrow brings
But here I am
Just in case you were wondering
Just in case you lost again
Just in case you run out of friends, here I am
It's so easy to rip and to tear, se here I am
What you need the most
Disappears into thin air, so here I am
Maps and compasses may stay true
It doesn't really matter what you do
I have never forgotten you
Here I am
Some days our reach
Is bound to far exceed our grasp
I gave up hoping long ago
I could fix the past, here I am
Today I called you
For the very first time in a million years
You would never know if I told you so
About these million tears
Life doesn't wave as it's speeding by
Better grab on fast and hold on tight
And don't ever forget to fight this good fight
And here I am
Here I am
Here I am
Here I am
Lyrics for Song: Here I Am
Lyrics for Album: The Calling
I've waited longer for lesser things
But here I am
Who really knows what tomorrow brings
But here I am
Just in case you were wondering
Just in case you lost again
Just in case you run out of friends, here I am
It's so easy to rip and to tear, se here I am
What you need the most
Disappears into thin air, so here I am
Maps and compasses may stay true
It doesn't really matter what you do
I have never forgotten you
Here I am
Some days our reach
Is bound to far exceed our grasp
I gave up hoping long ago
I could fix the past, here I am
Today I called you
For the very first time in a million years
You would never know if I told you so
About these million tears
Life doesn't wave as it's speeding by
Better grab on fast and hold on tight
And don't ever forget to fight this good fight
And here I am
Here I am
Here I am
Here I am
Capricorn Horoscope for week of June 14, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of June 14, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
"Women are much more willing to talk about both their disasters and delights than men," says poet and workshop leader Robert Bly. I hope that you men refute his assertion in the coming week, because it'll be a favorable time for Capricorns of all genders to spend quality time testifying and singing and wondering about the most vivid experiences from your past. You're liable to attract a variety of blessings if you come to new understandings about your disasters and delights. The best way to do that is to revisit them and revision them with fresh language.
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
"Women are much more willing to talk about both their disasters and delights than men," says poet and workshop leader Robert Bly. I hope that you men refute his assertion in the coming week, because it'll be a favorable time for Capricorns of all genders to spend quality time testifying and singing and wondering about the most vivid experiences from your past. You're liable to attract a variety of blessings if you come to new understandings about your disasters and delights. The best way to do that is to revisit them and revision them with fresh language.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Patricia Norton Dies
Patricia Norton, age 62 dies of lung failure and heart disease after a long illness with Emphysema.
I met Ms Norton in May of 1984, when my boss sent me down to Coney Island to visit the first foster parent that I would be working with. As I was not prepared, i sat for 4 hour drinking coffee and looking at photos in photo albums. I remember many of the children at Ms Norton's. Black, white, spanish, sickly and well. I remember her stories of Damien with pyloric stenosis who projectile vomitted and she treated him with special formula.
My own cases, Shaquana, who was stolen by her mom. Moses, the baby so sick and neglected he almost needed hospitalization til Pat started to bring him back to life. She nursed that child til he regain healthy skin, weight and alertness. Cindy who would spike fevers of 106 and I ended up taking her to the Emergency Room for repeated ear infections which finally was diagnosed as kidney infection. Coney Island, Kings County were some of our hangouts til Myles.
Myles was a blonde, wide eyed 2 1/2 year old born to a prostitute heroine using mother in the South Bronx. She was hosptalized when i met Myles and I never met his mom because she died Monday of a long weekend and when i came back to work and was gonna visit, i found out she died. Myles was living with Ms Norton and got attached to her. He entered care sick but we never knew that he had an illness we could not cure. Miles with explosive diaherra was diagnoses as one of the first pediatric Aids cases in the country.
Pat and I learned all we could about Aids. We called the Gay Mens Crisis Center because they were the only resources there was. We were affiliated with Downstate Medical Center and for years we were monitoring Myles Health.
Pat had the chance to make a decision about caring for Myles and early in his diagnosis because of community pressure and her sons, she asked for his removal. Two days later, she called and said she couldnt live without him and She and her youngest son decided, she wanted to care for Myles.
Myles remained with her til his death at age 11. There was his adoption and trips to florida and limo rides and plenty of Doctor appointments. Myles was seen regularly and suffered many hospitalizations due to pediatric Aids. He knew he was sicker than most kids and didnt know he had Aids til late in life.
After the first few Xmas eves of bring gifts as part of my job and the fact that noone else wanted to be infected by being Myles Social Worker, i spent 11 christmas eves at Ms Nortons house. With my 18 months and more as her worker and through being on the Board of Directors of an Aids organization at Kings Country. I became part of the Norton Family.
There were times that I was called to the Hospital, Coney Island Hospital or NY Hospital to see Myles as he was ill or possibly dying. None seemed to be the time that was the one that would be the End. There was the time that Myles was given the chance to meet the Pope. He was at St Patricks Cathedral and I was called to come up and meet the Pope But by the time i got there, Pat and Myles were in session and I was not to meet the Pope. Myles had been granted some wishes by Make A Wish...Limos to his Adoption, Trips to Florida etc
Then there was the night that I got a call from Pat to come to NY hospital, Myles was already 11 and i knew from Pat that he planned his own funeral and cremation, The Psychologist have been in to meet with him and certified that he was capable to do so. I headed up to the hospital to find the Hospital Priest giving him his last rights. Myles was not really aware of me and he talked about Michael Jordan. I had to leave the room as my knees were giving out and i knew that It was only a matter of hours, days and Myles would be dead.
THe call came from Pat Norton that Myles died in her arms. I left the hospital after keeping vigil while Pat showered. I remember smoking cigarettes with her outside and leaving her at NY Hospital. I disparately wanted to leave. I went home and within 12 hours i got the call that Myles had died.
Pat planned a beautiful funeral and i remember crying at the wake. I attended the Catholic funeral and going with Pat to pick up MYles ashes.
I spent the next few xmas eves with the NOrton's and was there through Stephen's death a few years later.
Stephen knew he had AIds but Myles never really understood what it meant to have AIDS. it was a matter of a few years but really light years from being an outcast and to being understood.
I am not that these would be alive today if they were diagnosed today. They would be accepted and not shamed or abandoned or admonished for being contagious.
So i went to the Wake of Patricia Norton Saturday. I saw a fragile, frail fighter who took on the world of fear when no one else really wanted to. Patricia Norton, a woman who gave her own oldest child up for adoption, lived her final years with her Son's adopted mother. Patricia Norton, advocate, mother to all those needed a mother including me. I realized that she raised me, educated me to parenting, changing babies, exposed me to different cultures and as her kids told me " Pat loved you". Pat took a young caseworker and let me be the "professional Social worker" while she was the "professional parent" and i let her parent. Maybe that is why we worked so well together. We let each other do our jobs.
I sat with Peachy, mother of her granddaughter, Robert her youngest son and the one who welcomed me into the home, Carlos, her son who was in gangs and prison. JOey, her oldest who is 6 years sober and his mom Judy. Judy told me about the last 10 years of Pat's life.
I met Ms Norton in May of 1984, when my boss sent me down to Coney Island to visit the first foster parent that I would be working with. As I was not prepared, i sat for 4 hour drinking coffee and looking at photos in photo albums. I remember many of the children at Ms Norton's. Black, white, spanish, sickly and well. I remember her stories of Damien with pyloric stenosis who projectile vomitted and she treated him with special formula.
My own cases, Shaquana, who was stolen by her mom. Moses, the baby so sick and neglected he almost needed hospitalization til Pat started to bring him back to life. She nursed that child til he regain healthy skin, weight and alertness. Cindy who would spike fevers of 106 and I ended up taking her to the Emergency Room for repeated ear infections which finally was diagnosed as kidney infection. Coney Island, Kings County were some of our hangouts til Myles.
Myles was a blonde, wide eyed 2 1/2 year old born to a prostitute heroine using mother in the South Bronx. She was hosptalized when i met Myles and I never met his mom because she died Monday of a long weekend and when i came back to work and was gonna visit, i found out she died. Myles was living with Ms Norton and got attached to her. He entered care sick but we never knew that he had an illness we could not cure. Miles with explosive diaherra was diagnoses as one of the first pediatric Aids cases in the country.
Pat and I learned all we could about Aids. We called the Gay Mens Crisis Center because they were the only resources there was. We were affiliated with Downstate Medical Center and for years we were monitoring Myles Health.
Pat had the chance to make a decision about caring for Myles and early in his diagnosis because of community pressure and her sons, she asked for his removal. Two days later, she called and said she couldnt live without him and She and her youngest son decided, she wanted to care for Myles.
Myles remained with her til his death at age 11. There was his adoption and trips to florida and limo rides and plenty of Doctor appointments. Myles was seen regularly and suffered many hospitalizations due to pediatric Aids. He knew he was sicker than most kids and didnt know he had Aids til late in life.
After the first few Xmas eves of bring gifts as part of my job and the fact that noone else wanted to be infected by being Myles Social Worker, i spent 11 christmas eves at Ms Nortons house. With my 18 months and more as her worker and through being on the Board of Directors of an Aids organization at Kings Country. I became part of the Norton Family.
There were times that I was called to the Hospital, Coney Island Hospital or NY Hospital to see Myles as he was ill or possibly dying. None seemed to be the time that was the one that would be the End. There was the time that Myles was given the chance to meet the Pope. He was at St Patricks Cathedral and I was called to come up and meet the Pope But by the time i got there, Pat and Myles were in session and I was not to meet the Pope. Myles had been granted some wishes by Make A Wish...Limos to his Adoption, Trips to Florida etc
Then there was the night that I got a call from Pat to come to NY hospital, Myles was already 11 and i knew from Pat that he planned his own funeral and cremation, The Psychologist have been in to meet with him and certified that he was capable to do so. I headed up to the hospital to find the Hospital Priest giving him his last rights. Myles was not really aware of me and he talked about Michael Jordan. I had to leave the room as my knees were giving out and i knew that It was only a matter of hours, days and Myles would be dead.
THe call came from Pat Norton that Myles died in her arms. I left the hospital after keeping vigil while Pat showered. I remember smoking cigarettes with her outside and leaving her at NY Hospital. I disparately wanted to leave. I went home and within 12 hours i got the call that Myles had died.
Pat planned a beautiful funeral and i remember crying at the wake. I attended the Catholic funeral and going with Pat to pick up MYles ashes.
I spent the next few xmas eves with the NOrton's and was there through Stephen's death a few years later.
Stephen knew he had AIds but Myles never really understood what it meant to have AIDS. it was a matter of a few years but really light years from being an outcast and to being understood.
I am not that these would be alive today if they were diagnosed today. They would be accepted and not shamed or abandoned or admonished for being contagious.
So i went to the Wake of Patricia Norton Saturday. I saw a fragile, frail fighter who took on the world of fear when no one else really wanted to. Patricia Norton, a woman who gave her own oldest child up for adoption, lived her final years with her Son's adopted mother. Patricia Norton, advocate, mother to all those needed a mother including me. I realized that she raised me, educated me to parenting, changing babies, exposed me to different cultures and as her kids told me " Pat loved you". Pat took a young caseworker and let me be the "professional Social worker" while she was the "professional parent" and i let her parent. Maybe that is why we worked so well together. We let each other do our jobs.
I sat with Peachy, mother of her granddaughter, Robert her youngest son and the one who welcomed me into the home, Carlos, her son who was in gangs and prison. JOey, her oldest who is 6 years sober and his mom Judy. Judy told me about the last 10 years of Pat's life.
Misleading information pisses me off
Well sometimes, my impatience and my sense of what is right and what is wrong just gets the best of me....
Saturday, i went with Valjean, my current Hero, and his roommates to the Crumpler Beer for Bag sale. When we got at the beer place, i was overanxious to get the beer and get to Crumplers because of all the news of lines and demands for beer for bags. Well, when i got there the Beer that i wanted was posted at 29.95 and when i asked the man the prices, he quoted me a price slightly higher. So i explained to the woman at the counter that the law said that I was to be given the lower price. I also informed her that i would calling the Attorney General's office. Like the Soup Nazi, I was reprimanded by two men and thrown out of the store. They labeled me a trouble maker and refused to sell me Beer. Its a very old Brooklyn thing that they did. Throwing me out and refusing my sale but not refusing my money. Chris bought the beer and we were on our way to Crumplers.
We traded beer for Bags and off i went to Macys to return some stuff and back home.
Seeing my MP3 player was stolen, i replaced it and i needed to upgrade to XP and Media Player 10 so i started to do that Saturday night but was unsuccessful. Sunday, i got XP working and had to call verizon to help me. They are also now on my Attorney General List..
the tech helped me as far as she could, promised someone to call me back....they never did...when they did, they were the premium service that wanted to charge me for something they could not help me with. I was ripped off by verizon and Nothing pisses me off more than false misleading information. So my task today is write the Attorney General and to get to Verizon about their "helpful" customer service.
Saturday, i went with Valjean, my current Hero, and his roommates to the Crumpler Beer for Bag sale. When we got at the beer place, i was overanxious to get the beer and get to Crumplers because of all the news of lines and demands for beer for bags. Well, when i got there the Beer that i wanted was posted at 29.95 and when i asked the man the prices, he quoted me a price slightly higher. So i explained to the woman at the counter that the law said that I was to be given the lower price. I also informed her that i would calling the Attorney General's office. Like the Soup Nazi, I was reprimanded by two men and thrown out of the store. They labeled me a trouble maker and refused to sell me Beer. Its a very old Brooklyn thing that they did. Throwing me out and refusing my sale but not refusing my money. Chris bought the beer and we were on our way to Crumplers.
We traded beer for Bags and off i went to Macys to return some stuff and back home.
Seeing my MP3 player was stolen, i replaced it and i needed to upgrade to XP and Media Player 10 so i started to do that Saturday night but was unsuccessful. Sunday, i got XP working and had to call verizon to help me. They are also now on my Attorney General List..
the tech helped me as far as she could, promised someone to call me back....they never did...when they did, they were the premium service that wanted to charge me for something they could not help me with. I was ripped off by verizon and Nothing pisses me off more than false misleading information. So my task today is write the Attorney General and to get to Verizon about their "helpful" customer service.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
An American Portrait of the Arts
this is PS1 Galllery art at its best...
http://www.chrisjordan.com/current_set2.php?id=7
Speaking of Art....
I spend a friday night at the Whitney at their exhibition on the Summer of Love. It was a exhibition of the part posters and photographs from the Fillmore East, Fillmore West, London, San Francisco scene. Its was made up of photographs, poster art and a review of that summer 1969. I happened to be sitting in a Austin Powers Psychodelic installation and started talking to two women who were in Hunter College in 1968. One worked in the Joshua Light show and then went on to work wiht the Dead. They gladly gave me insight to their 1968. One woman was protesting while her brother was off in Vietnam. THese two women, took the time to recall, retell and show me about a slice of their life.
://whitney.org/www/exhibition/SOL_exhib.jsp
http://nymag.com/arts/art/reviews/32859/
The other art project that i have done is the Tribeca Film Festival... I went back to TRibeca for year2. I was a volunteer taking tickets or handing out ballots..both at Kips Bay and 3rd and 11th Street.
I saw an afgani movie that was about orphans and the taliban ( sounds like a Dar Williams song, a movie from Palestine about the day laborers who build 5 star israeli hotels, called 9 Star Hotel. I saw Jerabek about a young man killed in Iraq. it was a documentary of his family's grief. I saw a Argentine coming of age comedy called
"on the road to St Deigo" and saw the wonderously lovely documentary
Pete Seeger, POwer of Song. I also caught the Audience Award winner...about an orphanage in Africa for Aids Orphans and the choir they created to continue to raise money and spirits...
Viva Tribeca
and ofcourse, i have seen Shrek 3....
http://www.chrisjordan.com/current_set2.php?id=7
Speaking of Art....
I spend a friday night at the Whitney at their exhibition on the Summer of Love. It was a exhibition of the part posters and photographs from the Fillmore East, Fillmore West, London, San Francisco scene. Its was made up of photographs, poster art and a review of that summer 1969. I happened to be sitting in a Austin Powers Psychodelic installation and started talking to two women who were in Hunter College in 1968. One worked in the Joshua Light show and then went on to work wiht the Dead. They gladly gave me insight to their 1968. One woman was protesting while her brother was off in Vietnam. THese two women, took the time to recall, retell and show me about a slice of their life.
://whitney.org/www/exhibition/SOL_exhib.jsp
http://nymag.com/arts/art/reviews/32859/
The other art project that i have done is the Tribeca Film Festival... I went back to TRibeca for year2. I was a volunteer taking tickets or handing out ballots..both at Kips Bay and 3rd and 11th Street.
I saw an afgani movie that was about orphans and the taliban ( sounds like a Dar Williams song, a movie from Palestine about the day laborers who build 5 star israeli hotels, called 9 Star Hotel. I saw Jerabek about a young man killed in Iraq. it was a documentary of his family's grief. I saw a Argentine coming of age comedy called
"on the road to St Deigo" and saw the wonderously lovely documentary
Pete Seeger, POwer of Song. I also caught the Audience Award winner...about an orphanage in Africa for Aids Orphans and the choir they created to continue to raise money and spirits...
Viva Tribeca
and ofcourse, i have seen Shrek 3....
Thursday, June 07, 2007
i was in Soho yesterday and stopped to see a ruckus at Prada on Prince and Mercer. A limo and about 10 people standing with cameras. Finally, exiting the shop was a petite blonde,sunglasses... Camera flashed and i heard..."OPEN THE DAMN DOOR, will You- OPEN THE DAMN DOOR"
one photographer called her a cockaroach- they live off cameras and celebrity and with the press they are nothing. The Roach in question was Christine Aguilera.
I then went on to the Morrison Hotel shop of photographs on Spring Street. Carrying a heavy book bag filled with papers and lecture notes and my two text books, plus my housekeys and Mp3 player, i asked if i could put it down near the desk, near the door. Two middle age men were in the small shop and i spoke to them and they left. The woman went downstair to attend to business and the man at the counter was on the phone. As i went back for my bag it was gone.
I looked around the street... no bag... no men...I called my neighbor who has extra keys and i called the police to file a report. No luck. I looked around and went to school to recreate my lecture notes and copy the articles. it all worked out fine
except i am going through
Shock
Denial
Bargaining
Anger
Acceptance
all together...
I still believe the bag will show up...NOT
i cant believe someone would steal it from this store or me
maybe if i pray my MP3 player will be returned
thought there is no address or ID on the bag or in the bag
i am pissed to have my property stolen
so it goes
one photographer called her a cockaroach- they live off cameras and celebrity and with the press they are nothing. The Roach in question was Christine Aguilera.
I then went on to the Morrison Hotel shop of photographs on Spring Street. Carrying a heavy book bag filled with papers and lecture notes and my two text books, plus my housekeys and Mp3 player, i asked if i could put it down near the desk, near the door. Two middle age men were in the small shop and i spoke to them and they left. The woman went downstair to attend to business and the man at the counter was on the phone. As i went back for my bag it was gone.
I looked around the street... no bag... no men...I called my neighbor who has extra keys and i called the police to file a report. No luck. I looked around and went to school to recreate my lecture notes and copy the articles. it all worked out fine
except i am going through
Shock
Denial
Bargaining
Anger
Acceptance
all together...
I still believe the bag will show up...NOT
i cant believe someone would steal it from this store or me
maybe if i pray my MP3 player will be returned
thought there is no address or ID on the bag or in the bag
i am pissed to have my property stolen
so it goes
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of June 7, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of June 7, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
You've gotten a little addicted to habits that are rooted in fear and worry. I suggest we resort to exotic measures to pry you out of your rut. After you read the proposed actions below, compose four more of a similar nature, then go out and actually do at least half of them. (1) On an empty milk carton, paste a collage of cut-out images and phrases that symbolize your anxieties. Then put it on the floor and stomp it to death as you growl. (2) Slap your own hand briskly ten times as you bark, "Stop being such a wuss!" (3) Everywhere you go, visualize yourself being accompanied by three great warriors who're dedicated to your well-being. (4) Gaze at a picture of a person who makes you nervous and yell "I'm not afraid of you, you mysterious slime-sucking bastard."
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
You've gotten a little addicted to habits that are rooted in fear and worry. I suggest we resort to exotic measures to pry you out of your rut. After you read the proposed actions below, compose four more of a similar nature, then go out and actually do at least half of them. (1) On an empty milk carton, paste a collage of cut-out images and phrases that symbolize your anxieties. Then put it on the floor and stomp it to death as you growl. (2) Slap your own hand briskly ten times as you bark, "Stop being such a wuss!" (3) Everywhere you go, visualize yourself being accompanied by three great warriors who're dedicated to your well-being. (4) Gaze at a picture of a person who makes you nervous and yell "I'm not afraid of you, you mysterious slime-sucking bastard."
Monday, June 04, 2007
Rev. David Kirk, 72, Crusader for New York City’s Disenfranchised, Dies
Rev. David Kirk, 72, Crusader for New York City’s Disenfranchised, Dies
By MARGALIT FOX
Published: June 4, 2007
The Rev. David Kirk, an Eastern Orthodox priest who spent most of his adult life working with New York City’s disenfranchised, died on May 23 at Emmaus House, the communal residence for the homeless that he founded in Harlem more than 40 years ago. He was 72.
The Rev. David Kirk in 1982.
Father Kirk, who had been in declining health with kidney trouble and other ailments, died in his sleep, said his nephew Kirk Barrell. At Father Kirk’s request, he was buried near his longtime mentor, the Roman Catholic social reformer Dorothy Day, at Resurrection Cemetery in Staten Island.
Father Kirk, for decades a presence in the civil rights and antiwar movements, established Emmaus House in the mid-1960s on East 116th Street. It was conceived not as a shelter but as a community for the city’s homeless men and women and was modeled on the Emmaus movement, begun in France after World War II to aid the poor.
The Emmaus (pronounced ee-MAY-us) movement takes its name from the story in the book of Luke in which the resurrected Jesus appeared to two disciples on the road from Jerusalem to the town of Emmaus.
Not long after it began, Emmaus House moved to 160 West 120th Street. In the mid-1980s, it moved again, into the former Charles Hotel on Lexington Avenue at 124th Street. The building had long been known as a haven for drug dealers and prostitutes. As Emmaus House, it provided long-term housing to more than 70 people, and its community kitchen served 500 lunches a day.
It also offered a variety of programs, from teaching job skills like woodworking to providing social services for drug addicts and people with AIDS. Each resident was paid the same weekly stipend as Father Kirk: $25.
Since 2001, Emmaus House has been back at its former location on West 120th Street, which can house up to 15 people. With Father Kirk’s death, the fate of the house is uncertain, said Albert J. Raboteau, a member of its board.
A Mississippian by birth, a Baptist by upbringing and, by most accounts, a contrarian by temperament, Father Kirk was a Melkite Catholic for most of his life. Melkite Catholics practice the Eastern Rite but, because they recognize the Pope, are considered part of the Roman Catholic Church. In 2004, Father Kirk joined the Eastern Orthodox Church.
Father Kirk was born on March 12, 1935, in Louisville, Miss., about 120 miles northeast of Jackson. His father, Leo, worked a variety of trades — farmer, shipbuilder, machinist — and the family moved wherever his jobs took him, through Mississippi, Arkansas, Missouri and Alabama.
At age 12 and living in Mississippi, David (his given name was Davey, which he despised) befriended a black man named Clint who worked for his father, family members said. After Clint was accused of murdering his wife, David, believing in his friend’s innocence, brought food every day to the woods where Clint was hiding. Clint eventually escaped over the state line to Louisiana.
Later, as the editor of his high school paper in Mobile, Ala., David won permission to attend a local black high school for a month. He told the authorities he was researching an article about the education of black youth. What he really wanted to do, his family said, was to try to experience how the other half lived in the Jim Crow South. (He had asked to transfer to the school full-time, coming up with the cover story only after his request was denied.)
“I came out of that school shocked and radicalized,” Father Kirk said in an unpublished narrative of his life.
Entering the University of Alabama in 1953, Mr. Kirk was drawn to the work of a Roman Catholic campus chaplain who opposed segregation. That year, Mr. Kirk converted to Melkite Catholicism. In 1956, he was part of a group of students who helped protect Autherine Lucy, the first black student to attempt to enroll at Alabama. (She was suspended after three days because white mobs threatened violence, and she was expelled when the N.A.A.C.P. filed suit to have her reinstated.)
Mr. Kirk earned a bachelor’s degree in social science from the university in 1957 and a few years later moved to New York to work with Ms. Day at the Catholic Worker House on the Bowery. He earned a master’s degree in social thought from Columbia University in 1964 and was ordained as a Melkite priest that year.
After ordination, Father Kirk went back to Alabama and the civil rights movement. (He was jailed with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on at least one occasion.) Returning to New York, he planned to start a communal house for the homeless on the Lower East Side. Ms. Day, who died in 1980, told him to go instead to Harlem, where the need was greater, and Emmaus House was born.
Over the years, Emmaus House’s other work has included a traveling kitchen; Emmaus Inns, a collection of 60 apartments across the city; and a program to rescue women from crack houses.
Besides his nephew, Mr. Barrell, of The Woodlands, Tex.; Father Kirk is survived by two sisters, Mary Barrell of Metairie, La., and Barbara Pace of Bessemer, Ala.; and 13 other nieces and nephews.
In recent years, as Father Kirk’s kidneys began to fail, several homeless people volunteered to donate one of their own to him.
“I was honored, but I had to say no,” Father Kirk told The Daily News in 2002. “I just couldn’t take something they need so much.”
By MARGALIT FOX
Published: June 4, 2007
The Rev. David Kirk, an Eastern Orthodox priest who spent most of his adult life working with New York City’s disenfranchised, died on May 23 at Emmaus House, the communal residence for the homeless that he founded in Harlem more than 40 years ago. He was 72.
The Rev. David Kirk in 1982.
Father Kirk, who had been in declining health with kidney trouble and other ailments, died in his sleep, said his nephew Kirk Barrell. At Father Kirk’s request, he was buried near his longtime mentor, the Roman Catholic social reformer Dorothy Day, at Resurrection Cemetery in Staten Island.
Father Kirk, for decades a presence in the civil rights and antiwar movements, established Emmaus House in the mid-1960s on East 116th Street. It was conceived not as a shelter but as a community for the city’s homeless men and women and was modeled on the Emmaus movement, begun in France after World War II to aid the poor.
The Emmaus (pronounced ee-MAY-us) movement takes its name from the story in the book of Luke in which the resurrected Jesus appeared to two disciples on the road from Jerusalem to the town of Emmaus.
Not long after it began, Emmaus House moved to 160 West 120th Street. In the mid-1980s, it moved again, into the former Charles Hotel on Lexington Avenue at 124th Street. The building had long been known as a haven for drug dealers and prostitutes. As Emmaus House, it provided long-term housing to more than 70 people, and its community kitchen served 500 lunches a day.
It also offered a variety of programs, from teaching job skills like woodworking to providing social services for drug addicts and people with AIDS. Each resident was paid the same weekly stipend as Father Kirk: $25.
Since 2001, Emmaus House has been back at its former location on West 120th Street, which can house up to 15 people. With Father Kirk’s death, the fate of the house is uncertain, said Albert J. Raboteau, a member of its board.
A Mississippian by birth, a Baptist by upbringing and, by most accounts, a contrarian by temperament, Father Kirk was a Melkite Catholic for most of his life. Melkite Catholics practice the Eastern Rite but, because they recognize the Pope, are considered part of the Roman Catholic Church. In 2004, Father Kirk joined the Eastern Orthodox Church.
Father Kirk was born on March 12, 1935, in Louisville, Miss., about 120 miles northeast of Jackson. His father, Leo, worked a variety of trades — farmer, shipbuilder, machinist — and the family moved wherever his jobs took him, through Mississippi, Arkansas, Missouri and Alabama.
At age 12 and living in Mississippi, David (his given name was Davey, which he despised) befriended a black man named Clint who worked for his father, family members said. After Clint was accused of murdering his wife, David, believing in his friend’s innocence, brought food every day to the woods where Clint was hiding. Clint eventually escaped over the state line to Louisiana.
Later, as the editor of his high school paper in Mobile, Ala., David won permission to attend a local black high school for a month. He told the authorities he was researching an article about the education of black youth. What he really wanted to do, his family said, was to try to experience how the other half lived in the Jim Crow South. (He had asked to transfer to the school full-time, coming up with the cover story only after his request was denied.)
“I came out of that school shocked and radicalized,” Father Kirk said in an unpublished narrative of his life.
Entering the University of Alabama in 1953, Mr. Kirk was drawn to the work of a Roman Catholic campus chaplain who opposed segregation. That year, Mr. Kirk converted to Melkite Catholicism. In 1956, he was part of a group of students who helped protect Autherine Lucy, the first black student to attempt to enroll at Alabama. (She was suspended after three days because white mobs threatened violence, and she was expelled when the N.A.A.C.P. filed suit to have her reinstated.)
Mr. Kirk earned a bachelor’s degree in social science from the university in 1957 and a few years later moved to New York to work with Ms. Day at the Catholic Worker House on the Bowery. He earned a master’s degree in social thought from Columbia University in 1964 and was ordained as a Melkite priest that year.
After ordination, Father Kirk went back to Alabama and the civil rights movement. (He was jailed with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on at least one occasion.) Returning to New York, he planned to start a communal house for the homeless on the Lower East Side. Ms. Day, who died in 1980, told him to go instead to Harlem, where the need was greater, and Emmaus House was born.
Over the years, Emmaus House’s other work has included a traveling kitchen; Emmaus Inns, a collection of 60 apartments across the city; and a program to rescue women from crack houses.
Besides his nephew, Mr. Barrell, of The Woodlands, Tex.; Father Kirk is survived by two sisters, Mary Barrell of Metairie, La., and Barbara Pace of Bessemer, Ala.; and 13 other nieces and nephews.
In recent years, as Father Kirk’s kidneys began to fail, several homeless people volunteered to donate one of their own to him.
“I was honored, but I had to say no,” Father Kirk told The Daily News in 2002. “I just couldn’t take something they need so much.”
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Blessings
In the past 6 months, i have found many many blessings that have come into my world. Besides getting a job that i love doing. I have had the chance to work with the most interesting participants. THey are energetic and committed and concerned and really want to work hard at getting it right. I have mastered the cirriculum and can work with the ideals that are set forth.
The winter brought a cold Patty griffin show down on the lower east side as a gift from my friend Nancy who won Artist Den Tickets. I spent most of the spring with Mary Chapin Carpenter shows and Dar Williams shows. I find that i dont have much left over after work for a whole lot. I dont even get to check my email let alone answer any mail.
I had been teaching two classes on satuday morning in soho. One at 9am -Social Policy 1. I loved teaching this class but it took a lot of time and effort. It was an american civilization and history course from a Social Service perspective. I think i have a renewed comphrensive understanding of American policy and laws. From revolution, through the civil war, and then the depression and the Social Security Act of 1945 and finally the War of Poverty of the 60s. The students were transfers or new admissions to Social work school. the desire to learn and the natural anxiety and development was astounding. These are some of the best students i have had at Adelphi.
My second class was Social work with children . Met some new students, others were some students that I taught the semester before in Social Work with the Individual. I find teaching in Manhattan that the same students take the required courses and end up with the same professors because there are so few of us that teach on saturday. these students taught me more than i have in the past.
Teaching two classes on saturday after working all week is exhausting but i am now teaching on wednesday night in summer... 10 weeks of Human Behavior and the Social Environment. I have never taught this class and havent really thought about it yet.
Its now coming on week two.. Adolescence and Adulthood and old age. Not really my expertise but it will be fine. I can master the basics and get through and teaching this summer will provide some extra $$$
The fall will bring another course... or the Social Work with Individual course again.
THe spring- Brought 7 Mary Chapin carpenter shows... as she toured her cd the Calling. I learned that I could drive and park on the street in Manhattan on most days and could get out of town to make it through NY to NJ so i could get to Princeton or Redbank or Wayne for Dar and John Gorka. Chapin was in illhealth. Her sore back was out and it was obvious that she was stiff and in pain...but she sang like an angel. Peekskill, Wilkes Barre and NYC... it was a great short tour and Dar is back once or twice a month....Seeing Dar is always a treat and still a treat.
Last week was the annual King Of Prussia show complete with Dar tom foolery...
The winter brought a cold Patty griffin show down on the lower east side as a gift from my friend Nancy who won Artist Den Tickets. I spent most of the spring with Mary Chapin Carpenter shows and Dar Williams shows. I find that i dont have much left over after work for a whole lot. I dont even get to check my email let alone answer any mail.
I had been teaching two classes on satuday morning in soho. One at 9am -Social Policy 1. I loved teaching this class but it took a lot of time and effort. It was an american civilization and history course from a Social Service perspective. I think i have a renewed comphrensive understanding of American policy and laws. From revolution, through the civil war, and then the depression and the Social Security Act of 1945 and finally the War of Poverty of the 60s. The students were transfers or new admissions to Social work school. the desire to learn and the natural anxiety and development was astounding. These are some of the best students i have had at Adelphi.
My second class was Social work with children . Met some new students, others were some students that I taught the semester before in Social Work with the Individual. I find teaching in Manhattan that the same students take the required courses and end up with the same professors because there are so few of us that teach on saturday. these students taught me more than i have in the past.
Teaching two classes on saturday after working all week is exhausting but i am now teaching on wednesday night in summer... 10 weeks of Human Behavior and the Social Environment. I have never taught this class and havent really thought about it yet.
Its now coming on week two.. Adolescence and Adulthood and old age. Not really my expertise but it will be fine. I can master the basics and get through and teaching this summer will provide some extra $$$
The fall will bring another course... or the Social Work with Individual course again.
THe spring- Brought 7 Mary Chapin carpenter shows... as she toured her cd the Calling. I learned that I could drive and park on the street in Manhattan on most days and could get out of town to make it through NY to NJ so i could get to Princeton or Redbank or Wayne for Dar and John Gorka. Chapin was in illhealth. Her sore back was out and it was obvious that she was stiff and in pain...but she sang like an angel. Peekskill, Wilkes Barre and NYC... it was a great short tour and Dar is back once or twice a month....Seeing Dar is always a treat and still a treat.
Last week was the annual King Of Prussia show complete with Dar tom foolery...
Capricorn Horoscope for week of May 31, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of May 31, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
"If you make people think they're thinking," said author Don Marquis, "they'll love you; but if you really make them think, they'll hate you." My objective in this week's horoscope is to prove him wrong: I want you to love me for making you really think. In the hope of accomplishing this goal, I'm giving you the assignment of revising two of your long-standing opinions or theories about the way the world works. As you aggressively seek out the information that will help you change your mind, try to feel tender compassion for me, the wise guy who's asking you to undertake such an arduous and potentially rewarding task.
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
"If you make people think they're thinking," said author Don Marquis, "they'll love you; but if you really make them think, they'll hate you." My objective in this week's horoscope is to prove him wrong: I want you to love me for making you really think. In the hope of accomplishing this goal, I'm giving you the assignment of revising two of your long-standing opinions or theories about the way the world works. As you aggressively seek out the information that will help you change your mind, try to feel tender compassion for me, the wise guy who's asking you to undertake such an arduous and potentially rewarding task.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of May 24, 2007
Capricorn Horoscope for week of May 24, 2007
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
"To have more, desire less." I urge you to make that your motto in the coming days, Capricorn. You're in a phase that's ideal for expanding your horizons by cutting back on your attachments. Your wealth will grow if you renounce any greed you may be harboring. Your power will intensify if you give up your longing for control over things you can't control. So be brave. Be nervy. Have fun. As you shed insubstantial wishes and barely-relevant obsessions, you may come to resemble a monarch.
Verticle Oracle card Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
"To have more, desire less." I urge you to make that your motto in the coming days, Capricorn. You're in a phase that's ideal for expanding your horizons by cutting back on your attachments. Your wealth will grow if you renounce any greed you may be harboring. Your power will intensify if you give up your longing for control over things you can't control. So be brave. Be nervy. Have fun. As you shed insubstantial wishes and barely-relevant obsessions, you may come to resemble a monarch.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Horoscopes for week of March 29, 2007
Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
Wealthy women in ancient Rome often filled their baths with perfumed swan fat and donkey milk. It would make perfect astrological sense if you did the same thing. The omens suggest that you should borrow old customs to enhance your health and appearance. APRIL FOOL! While it's true that this is a good time to upgrade your health and appearance, there are better ways to do so than with swan fat and donkey milk. However, those two exotic substances are symbolically apt. You should cultivate influences that will enhance your grace and beauty as well as your stubborn strength and dogged persistence.
Wealthy women in ancient Rome often filled their baths with perfumed swan fat and donkey milk. It would make perfect astrological sense if you did the same thing. The omens suggest that you should borrow old customs to enhance your health and appearance. APRIL FOOL! While it's true that this is a good time to upgrade your health and appearance, there are better ways to do so than with swan fat and donkey milk. However, those two exotic substances are symbolically apt. You should cultivate influences that will enhance your grace and beauty as well as your stubborn strength and dogged persistence.
Horoscopes for week of April 12, 2007
Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
In addition to analyzing the heavenly portents, I sometimes use divination to arrive at your horoscope, including Tarot cards, the I Ching, and walkomancy. In the latter method, I take a stroll and regard any interesting quirks that catch my eye as clues to your destiny. That's what I did this week. After spending an hour in my office meditating on your astrological omens, I headed out to a neighborhood where I'd never been. The first meaningful thing I saw was a sign hanging on a cactus. It read "Caution: Armadillo Crossing." Here's my interpretation of this clue: You should urge your "inner armadillo" to go out exploring, while at the same time making sure it's well protected and cared for. And what is your "inner armadillo"? Maybe it's the burrowing mammal with the heavy armor. What do you think?
In addition to analyzing the heavenly portents, I sometimes use divination to arrive at your horoscope, including Tarot cards, the I Ching, and walkomancy. In the latter method, I take a stroll and regard any interesting quirks that catch my eye as clues to your destiny. That's what I did this week. After spending an hour in my office meditating on your astrological omens, I headed out to a neighborhood where I'd never been. The first meaningful thing I saw was a sign hanging on a cactus. It read "Caution: Armadillo Crossing." Here's my interpretation of this clue: You should urge your "inner armadillo" to go out exploring, while at the same time making sure it's well protected and cared for. And what is your "inner armadillo"? Maybe it's the burrowing mammal with the heavy armor. What do you think?
Horoscopes for week of April 19, 2007
Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
"Dear Rob: Has the Goddess placed a global embargo on new love? While it doesn't sound like something she'd normally do, I'm wondering if she cast a curse of which I'm unaware? I'm not a cynic; it's just that no one in my acquaintance has experienced new love in a long time. In other words, is Cupid on strike? Has romance boycotted our planet? -Out-in-the-Cold Capricorn." To the best of my knowledge, there are no embargos, strikes, or boycotts like the ones you propose. I've noticed, though, that some of my Capricorn cohorts have experienced dry spells recently. But according to my astrological reckoning, a deluge will soon change all that.
"Dear Rob: Has the Goddess placed a global embargo on new love? While it doesn't sound like something she'd normally do, I'm wondering if she cast a curse of which I'm unaware? I'm not a cynic; it's just that no one in my acquaintance has experienced new love in a long time. In other words, is Cupid on strike? Has romance boycotted our planet? -Out-in-the-Cold Capricorn." To the best of my knowledge, there are no embargos, strikes, or boycotts like the ones you propose. I've noticed, though, that some of my Capricorn cohorts have experienced dry spells recently. But according to my astrological reckoning, a deluge will soon change all that.
Horoscopes for week of May 3, 2007
Capricorn (December 22-January 19)
You're growing almost too fast, Capricorn. You know almost too much and you're almost too attractive. Furthermore, you're on the verge of being ridiculously smart, absurdly popular, and outlandishly creative. To avoid having any of this spawn jealousy in others, you should probably go overboard in expressing humility--even if you have to fake it a little. Another step you could take to minimize any problems people might have with your amazing beauty is to be extravagantly generous in sharing your wealth.
You're growing almost too fast, Capricorn. You know almost too much and you're almost too attractive. Furthermore, you're on the verge of being ridiculously smart, absurdly popular, and outlandishly creative. To avoid having any of this spawn jealousy in others, you should probably go overboard in expressing humility--even if you have to fake it a little. Another step you could take to minimize any problems people might have with your amazing beauty is to be extravagantly generous in sharing your wealth.
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