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new favorite

I can’t remember now how I stumbled upon Advanced Style, but, I’m telling you, pippa: I am so glad I did and you simply must check it out. It’s a blog devoted to the sartorial splendor of the senior citizen. (How’s that for alliteration?? Yamahama. I scare myself.) It’s not poking fun at the elderly. It’s a blog that genuinely celebrates stylish and chic old folks.

For example, this gentleman, who makes me swoon:

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I love old people, honestly, I do, so this site is a new favorite of mine. I want to go to lunch with every single man and woman on that blog. I want to listen to all their stories because they all look like they must surely have them. Basically, I want to be best friends with every last one of them. The photos are fabulous. The way some of them preen and pose for the camera is priceless.

I am in LOVE with this blog. The elderly aren’t marginalized — they’re celebrated!

LOVE it.

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where i answer googlers’ questions

People Google extremely random topics that end up bringing them here. Sometimes, they ask Google questions and their questions bring them here. When that happens, I feel an obligation to answer, to try to help as best I can. You know, to give the appearance of being a caring compassionate person and whatnot.

So here are a few from this past week:

~ Did Michael Jackson belong to a witch cult?

Googler, wasn’t there enough that was weird and sad and unsettling about Michael Jackson without wondering about this? But okay. Uhm, yes. Yes, Googler, he did. And he’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too. What a world, what a world, etc.

And scene.

~ My frog is pale — is that okay?

Well, Peaches, I see you found my live blog of “Frogs.” If that didn’t answer your question, there literally IS no answer to this question. Although, may I ask: Was your frog recently put in boiling water?

~ Where is the nearest commune?

This one touches me. This Googler clearly wants to get the H outta Dodge and I find it all rather endearing. I so relate to that. Someone please tell me WHERE can I go to get away from THIS. And, to answer you, Googler, well, the nearest commune is right here, on this blog. Here, as a matter of fact. All are welcome. (Well, unless/until I decide you’re not. It’s one of them-there tyrannical communes. Don’t be scared, Googler. Your life of toil and misery and indentured servitude to moi will last only until I tire of you, and the good thing here is I’m very fickle.)

There. Answers to seekers’ questions. Hope that helps.

I know that I, for one, feel all aglow with compassion and self-satisfaction.

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response to “big on children”

A lovely reader of this blog sent me an email telling me she’d sent a note to Dennis Rainey based on the radio spot discussed here. She included the note she’d sent him and I’ve asked and received her permission to post it on the blog anonymously.

Two things strike me about it: First, it’s the measured, reasonable, gracious response I would have had if I were a — well, you know — measured, reasonable, gracious person. Basically, after reading it, I thought to myself, “Wow. Hm. I wish I’d written THAT instead.”

Second, that this lovely reader — a woman with many children herself — actually took the time to write this on behalf of childless couples everywhere. I teared up, I was so touched by that. So, to her, again, I say thank you — and thank you for letting me post this.

Here’s her letter:

Mr. Rainey,

Some topics are too wide, too deep, too important to be used
in a 90 second radio spot. This was one of them. Since when has it been right for anyone to comment on the number of children, the lack of children, the spacing of children, etc. in casual social environments? Sometimes, it is right to speak of such things…with close friends or when seeking counsel regarding a decision. Bringing it up to an anonymous radio with the obvious attempt to CONVICT people of some sin in their attitudes/thoughts/actions regarding children was inappropriate. I feel strongly about this, even though I am one who has been given a very full quiver. My convictions before God do not give me the right to try and convict everyone to believe the same way. Even in salvation, I can only share my beliefs and ask God to convict. Why can’t we extend the same grace of letting God do the convicting in areas of Christian liberty while we love and cherish, rejoice with, cry with, uphold each other in prayer? In short, the church needs to practice the “one anothers” and let the Holy Spirit do the convicting of actual SIN. God is more “big” on whether or not we are conformed to the image of His son, in whatever our circumstances, than than He is “big” on kids. I think you owe your listening audience an apology.

Yes. I still think that too.

A great letter. I’m just so touched.

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this face

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Is coming for a weekend visit in one hour. (The face in the front that is; the one in the back is here on a permanent basis.)

And okay. She has all her front teeth now. Which kind of bums me out.

Still, Piper will be smushed to death all weekend.

And I cannot WAIT.

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“big on children”

The following is a transcript of a spot I heard on the radio the other day, not a Christian radio station, but, yes, a more conservative radio station that has basically one talk show that I can tolerate, that isn’t too shrill or positional or self-righteous.

This was during the commercial break, a moment called “Family Life Today” or something, hosted by self-satisfied Christian author, Dennis Rainey. Hm. How to describe him? I mean, beyond “self-satisfied”? Okay. Well, if you know who James Dobson is, this guy is a James Dobson Lite or James Dobson wannabe. I’m not a fan, although I probably have a Bible study or book of his lying around the house simply because someone else gave it to me.

Still, I listened to this spot and could not believe what I was hearing. I was so enraged by the whole thing, I sent Mr. Rainey an email, which I’ve included at the bottom here. Yes, I dashed it off impulsively and probably should have calmed down some before I sent it, but, well, I just didn’t. Honestly, I think the man needs to be taken to task for this. Just not okay, in my opinion. And I really don’t care who you are in the “Christian community” or how impressed I’m supposed to be by your credentials, gracelessness is gracelessness.

Here’s the transcript — my email follows:

Dennis Rainey: You know, we hear a lot of negative things about children today. But are they really so bad?

Guest: When my wife and I first married, we had decided we wanted one child. That was it. No more. And as we pressed into God and came alive to Him, we realized He wanted more children for us, and that was a HUGE step of faith for us…to move forward on having more children. And we did, and it’s been great!

Dennis Rainey: A few years back, the Dallas Morning News ran an essay contest on “Why You Have Chosen To Have Kids.” It ran a separate contest for those who had chosen not to have kids. The winning couple, with five children, was awarded a night out at one of Dallas’s finest restaurants. They even gave them a babysitter. I’m sure they had one of the best evenings of their lives.

Then there was the couple who had chosen not to have kids. The Dallas Morning News had a picture of them …with their cats! They felt like cats were easier to raise than children. Know what their prize was? It was an evening out … at a family restaurant! Talk about justice!

One final thought. Did you know that God is all about children? He loves children. In fact, the question is, how many children does He want you to have?

I’m Dennis Rainey and I’m big on children, too.

*********

Mr. Rainey,

I heard this on the radio today and had to come look at the transcript because I simply could not believe my ears. My husband and I do not have children — no, we’ve suffered through years of infertility instead — and have encountered almost nothing but this kind of prejudice from within the church.

The Church.

Christ’s hands on earth.

The same hands that have ostracized and judged us, just as you have judged couples who have chosen not to have kids. Yes, there are couples childless by choice and couples childless not by choice and those circumstances are certainly different, but the love and acceptance extended from the church to both kinds of couples should be no different. Who are we to know why, precisely, a couple has chosen not to have children? Who are we to judge that particular choice? It’s not immoral. It’s not “wrong.” It’s not a sin.

But this, this takes the cake:

/Know what their prize was? It was an evening out … at a family restaurant! Talk about justice!/

Justice? What does justice have to do with it, Mr. Rainey? Have these couples committed some wrong that needs to be redressed? Tell me, what crime are they guilty of? Isn’t “justice” something set aside for wrongdoers? I am gobsmacked at the judgment in this one short spot — and in the obvious relish taken in rendering it.

/Did you know that God is all about children?/

Really? That’s interesting. The God I know is all about grace. If he’s “all about children,” does that mean I can kiss heaven goodbye?

/The question is, how many children does He want you to have?/

No, Mr. Rainey. Based on this spot, I think the question is: How many childless couples’ hearts do you want to break and judge in one 90-second spot?

Oh, God. Save us from your people.

Mr. Rainey, this is one of the most profound moments of “ungrace” I have ever encountered in the body of Christ, and, believe me, as a childless Christian woman, I have encountered plenty.

You brought me to tears. And not in a good way.

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annie

So My Beloved shows up at this little house to film the testimony of a retarded woman named Annie. Inside is a room of plastic-covered furniture, coffee table doilies, and wallpaper featuring pastoral scenes of pheasants and hunting dogs and whatnot. Four attorneys in attorney suits are crammed onto one of the plastic-covered sofas, decidedly uncomfortable and out of place, but they need to get to the bottom of this pressing legal matter, and obviously, Annie, the 40-year-old retarded woman, is the key to everything, so they forebear; they endure.

My Beloved sets up his camera, swears in the witness. They’re good to go. Annie just looks around the room as one of the suits stuck to the plastic starts to question her as if talking to a child.

“Annie, are you going to tell us the truth today?”

“Yeaaaaaaaaah.”

“Annie, are you going to tell us lies today?”

“Yeaaaaaaaaah.”

A pause.

“Annie, did you have breakfast today?”

“Yeaaaaaaaaaah.”

“Annie, did you fly in a spaceship today?”

“Yeaaaaaaaaaaah.”

Hm.

Moments later, the proceedings are terminated and four frustrated attorneys leave Annie alone with her plastic and doilies and pheasants.

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uhm, thank you?

For the button hat? No, the totally extreme button hat? That also looks vaguely like a mushroom?

Wow. I am speechless with something like gratitude, is what I would say if that were even remotely true.

Please excuse me. I’m trying to figure out how one wears a be-buttoned woolen mushroom atop one’s head. I mean ……

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Do you tilt it forward? So people in front of you can see more buttons? I mean, I don’t want people to misunderstand the point of the hat which is, obviously, that some old gammie went nuts clearing out her button drawer and in an act of both relief and passive aggression, made this hat and sent it out into the world for you to purchase and give to me, a person you claim to love. Or perhaps to re-gift to me, a person you claim to love.

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Do you push it back? So people behind you can see more buttons and laugh at you behind your back but you just don’t care because they’re behind your back? This option appeals to me.

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Do you try to make it flat, like a saucer of buttons atop your head? Is that what you do? And, I ask you, what girl hasn’t yearned for a saucer of buttons to adorn her head at some point her life?

You know, honestly, it’s all too much. The responsibility and mental energy this cap requires is more than I can handle. It’s truly beyond me. Plus, with that army of buttons weighing it down, the thing is just a migraine in the making. I also worry about being dive-bombed and pecked by random frightening crows searching for food.

So, again, thank you? You shouldn’t have? I am so looking forward to ….. uhm, leaving this outside on the next rainy day and — que lastima! — shrinking it to a size way too small for my giant head.

Tsk, tsk.

Unfortunate.

These things happen.

Tough break, you know?

Or ….. wait. I may have just found the new prize for The Best Thing Ever: America.

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the sudden yurt commune: our flagship

It may or may not surprise you to learn that I regularly scour the web for additions to The Sudden Yurt Commune.

And today, I found exactly the kind of vessel I would want for our flagship. I’m jonesing bad for these:

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It’s a handmade boat, part of a floating art project called The Swimming Cities of Serenissima.

Description: The Swimming Cities of Serenissima is a fleet of three intricately hand crafted vessels that will navigate the Adriatic Sea from the Litoral region of Slovenia to Venice, Italy in May of 2009. Designed by the visual artist SWOON, the floating sculptures are descendants of the Swimming Cities of Switchback Sea (Hudson River, 2008) and the Miss Rockaway Armada (Mississippi River, 2006 and 2007).

Uhm, whatever, Pretensio. Just look at ’em. That’s all you need to do.

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(all photos Tod Seelie)

Aren’t they amazing? So magical and whimsical.

Further info on the project here.

And, please, you must go here for more photos — they’re gorgeous, breathtaking, every last one — and to follow the tale of their journey.

The SYC needs one of these, don’t you think?

So we can all float down a river, out to sea, to the end of the world, wherever …..

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nosy friday survey: a mall theme

I was just at the mall — the holiday weekend mall — and at one point I literally had to escape to a dressing room just so I could curl up into fetal position and have some me time. I didn’t have anything to try on; I just needed some alone time to, you know, quiver and suck my thumb. I do this frequently because I am prone to flappy-armed anxiety when there are just too many people around. Really, they’re not so much dressing rooms to me as my personal and momentary studio apartment. So that’s nice.

You see, I hate the mall and I hate shopping and I really don’t know when that all began for me but that attitude seems to be here to stay. If you feel the same as I do, I really recommend the dressing room/studio apartment escape tactic. You just sit there or — bonus — lie down if there’s a bench and ignore all the gammies who come banging on the door because they are desperate to try on their elastic jewel-toned pants. You just tell ’em, “Gammie! They’re elastic! Eeeeelaaasssticccc. Trust me, they’ll fit! If they don’t, you need to embrace the muumuu and that’s a whole different department!”

You know, because I think it’s important to be helpful while you’re being selfish. You just feel better about yourself, which I’m pretty sure is what life is all about.

So with my mall hatred fresh in mind, I have some questions for you:

(Copy and paste into comments — the usual instructions, pippa.)

1) What’s the worst thing to have to shop for in the mall and why?

2) What’s the best thing to have to shop for in the mall and why?

3) What’s your least favorite item of clothing to have to try on? Why?

4) For that matter, do you even try on clothes or do you just purchase and take your chances, figuring you can return them later?

5) T/F: I have purchased clothing to wear one time and then returned it. (I won’t judge you. Openly. To myself, oh, yes, I will, you hooligan. Otherwise, no, I love you, of course.)

6) Men: Do you sit in those limbo chairs whilst your wife tries on clothes and try to think of nice things to say about the crap she models for you or do you go elsewhere when she does that?

7) Women: Do you or would you make your man sit in those limbo chairs whilst you try on clothes? If so, uhm, WHY??? (I have no opinion on this.)

8) Men: T/F I feel completely comfortable in Victoria’s Secret or the lingerie section of any department store.

9) Fill in the blank: A trip to the mall should be no longer than _____________.

10) If you hate the mall, how do you make a trip there more bearable?

11) Women: Do you let your friends in the dressing room with you?

12) Men: Do you let your friends in the dressing room with you?

13) If you go to a mall that has a food court, where would you usually eat? I’m not talking a hostess-leads-you-to-a-table restaurant. I’m talking food court, baby.

14) What is your favorite store in your local mall?

15) T/F: I have had sex in a store dressing room. (Hey, it’s an anthropological question. It’s all for science, I swear.)

Thank you for taking my Mall Survey and I’m sorry, so very sorry, if you find yourself visiting a mall this holiday weekend. Stay home and read the Constitution instead.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone!

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another stolen moment

So I’ve bound and gagged The Banshees — as any loving aunt would
do — just so I can take three minutes to tell you this all-important thing. Get ready. Seriously. GET. READY. I mean, your little patch of earth? Well, it’s about to be completely shattered, Crackie. Please remain calm. Or sit down if you’re the excitable type. I won’t be held responsible for how your world is forever altered. I’m sorry. I just won’t.

Ready?

I finished Wuthering Heights last night and, well, that book annoyed the bejeebez outta me.

I’m not kidding. I have NO bejeebez left. Pffffft. Gone-zo.

Sadly, I don’t have time now to express my irritation with this book — because I see The Banshees are beginning to struggle against their restraints and I suppose I should do something, blahdie blahdie blah — but, oh, I WILL be talking about my irritation with this book.

You know, after I get out of jail and such.

More later, pippa.