r.i.p. christopher hitchens

hitchens.jpg

I don’t usually tear up at the death of celebrities of any kind. It’s just not in my nature, really, no matter how sad a celebrity’s death may make me, but I’ve been tearing up non-stop ever since I heard this news.

We all knew this day was coming. Over the last 18 months, I’ve fretted and dreaded its arrival. Well, here it is.

I loved and admired Christopher Hitchens. The world is a lesser place without him.

His dear friend Salman Rushdie tweeted yesterday: “Goodbye, my beloved friend. A great voice falls silent. A great heart stops.”

Amen.

(And he’d probably hate that I just said that to Rushdie’s quote, haha. But let me stir it up in honor of you, dear Mr. Hitchens.)

sheepish

I’m beginning to feel a bit sheepish and silly about the length of the Maybe Church saga. (We’re about halfway at this point, just so you know. Weeee!) When we posted the story on our FOC blog over the summer, the blog went “live,” so to speak, with all the posts already up, in chronological order. We didn’t post one on Day 1, the next on Day 2, etc. They were all there as a complete story for people to read or not. Because of that, maybe I lost a sense of, uh, the sheer volume of what I’d written here. It’s strange to me to think that’s the case because it took so much out of me to write all of this, but I really think that’s what happened. Once it was up, I think I just viewed the story in bulk, not in individual posts. Now I find myself looking at it and thinking, “Good grief, Trace,” or as if I’m hearing George Burns in my head — “Say goodnight, Gracie” (or “Say goodnight, Tracey.”)

On the other hand, I’m assuming if anyone is feeling burnt out on the story (which I could understand), they simply wouldn’t read the posts anymore. I don’t want anyone feeling any obligation to read the posts simply because they have the password, okay? It’s a real commitment to read these posts and I want to acknowledge to all of you that I know that and I so appreciate any of you sticking with it.

Because, seriously, now that I see them all lined up in my drafts box like little soldiers waiting to be deployed, well, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry at how insane that looks to me.

(That said, I’m sure I’ll be posting the next installment shortly. Hahaha.)

“that’s what christmas is all about, charlie brown”

God bless Christopher Shea, the child actor behind the voice of Linus.

In my opinion, one of the most beautifully executed monologues of all time. Its genius is the (deceptive) simplicity of the delivery combined with the quirky perfection of that endearing little voice.

That, and the immediate resumption of the thumb-sucking at the end.

How I love it. How I will never tire of it.

ethical dilemma

So I was watching Nightline the other night and one of the stories was, surprisingly, about Christmas shopping. The reporter was talking to some 20-something chick who’s apparently an online shopping guru or something. They were in an electronics store and she was demonstrating this “awesome app” on her iPhone. I don’t remember what it was called, but let’s just call it the bar code app. Basically, the bar code app allows you to scan the bar code of any item you might wish to buy and see if you can buy it online more cheaply. So then, when it comes up more cheaply at Amazon, you depart the brick and mortar store in haste — the brick and mortar store that gives you free access to these bar codes but just lost your business — and go purchase said item online for less.

I’m sorry, maybe it’s me, but I have a bit of an ethical dilemma with that. I know that’s quaint and dusty of me — an ethical dilemma, how last century of you, Trace — but I think it’s kind of sneaky and exploitative to use the brick and mortar store not as a place where you purchase goods but as a kind of research tool to find where you can purchase for less the very same items that they are selling. If you do find it for less, why not approach the manager of the store and ask if they’ll match the price? Don’t we need brick and mortar stores? Do we want our entire lives to be conducted online?

The bookstore we used to visit every Saturday morning recently went out of business along with all its other locations in San Diego. And I’m sad about that, really sad. I’m sad that 3-dimensional life seems to be slipping away from us by inches. I’m sad that the printed page seems to be disappearing. I don’t mean to sound like that cranky old lady down the street waving her cane at life and proclaiming doom at every turn, but damn. We’re 3-dimensional creatures who still need to conduct 3-dimensional lives — which is really a different post, I suppose.

But back to my dilemma here. Am I the only one who thinks using an app like that is sneaky and, well, a bit ethically squinky? If you’re willing to ask the store to meet the lower price you found, I have no problem with it, if the store ultimately meets the price for you. Be blunt and tell them to meet the price or you will purchase it elsewhere. In this economy, I imagine they’d meet it. But if you scan the bar code in that store, find a lower price online, and then buy it there, my opinion is you’re exploiting that store and robbing them of your business, business they desperately need.

Is it just me? If so, I’m starting the cane-waving and fist-shaking decades ahead of schedule here.

Look. If the brick and mortar store ultimately goes away, where will you go to use your “awesome bar code app”?

oh, for god’s sake, women

Go read roo’s post about one woman’s rude comment to her, a woman I’ve already soundly beaten up in my head. The whole posts touches on the general nosy meanness of women in certain areas.

Seriously, womenfolk. What’s wrong with us? Why do we have to be such beyotches to each other? And why is there such a proprietary vibe, a need to know or comment about one another’s bodies — whether we’re pregnant, whether we’re NOT pregnant and WHY? It’s one thing if the women involved in the exchange are friends, but it’s another thing altogether if they’re strangers and one of the women has no effin’ boundaries. What is it about the female DNA that makes us this way? Roo hits on a point that I think I’ve mentioned before in one of my infertility posts: Men don’t ask these kinds of questions or make these kinds of comments to women. They’re just wired differently, thank God. They know when to keep their mouths shut and, besides that, it’s not a competition for them, but I think it is for women. Am I thinner than you? More fertile than you?

I need to know to feel better than you and, mostly, better about myself.

Stop it, women. Stop it, I beg you!

Ugh.