Twinkle Little Star

You People Are Keeping Me Up At Night

I am going to write a post regarding disabled kids and therapies/interventions. It is a hard topic, but I'll note right off the bat that I never indicated that children with disabilities should NOT receive therapy. But more thoughts on that later.

Okay, so this email I got a week or so ago, and my attempts to ignore it have not worked. Its not that I think the question is so wrong or that it made me angry or anything like that, it is just a touchy subject. But it is keeping me awake tonight so I guess I'll give it a go.

From "thebeck":

...I have spent the past few days going through your archive. Your weblog is sucking me in and I am enthralled with your story. I may be splitting hairs, but there is one thing you said that I just don't understand and can't get my head around. You talked about a horrible day that was something you just needed to get over in your post about the song "Ordinary World" being your theme song. And I assumed you were referring to your rape incident that you wrote about just a few posts before that. And you said that the song's line about "ours is just a little sorrowed talk" was meant to somehow minimize or diminish the crime. And you should just get over it. This is none of my business, but I'm confused about this. I found your site actually searching for "date rape" because my girlfriend was also raped in college. And she would go ballistic on me if I said that she should just get over it or that it was just a little sorrowed talk compared to the problems of the world. I guess I'm asking, how can two people with similar experiences think about it in such completely opposite ways?

...

Okay, first of all, I am very sorry about what happened to your girlfriend and please extend my sympathies.

And now, second of all, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on for a second while I pry apart the pretzel that is my brain and go back and find out what in God's name I said. (This actually took awhile.) He (I'm going to assume you are a he) is referring to this silly throw away post that you'se all weren't supposed to read that I am so going to take down now.

I say this:

I will continue to use "Ordinary World," which has become my cheesy summer anthem, as my rubber band around my wrist to snap when I get stuck in a forloop and need reminding to just get on with it.

and this:

"... forgiveness is a verb that you have to actively decide to do, it doesn't just come along and fall into your lap by itself via osmosis. Many years ago on a Thursday no less, we had an awful day, and that is what it was, an awful day. We can still remember S while getting on with it. "Ours is just a little sorrowed talk."

In reference to these lyrics:

Papers in the roadside
Tell of suffering and greed
Here today, forgot tomorrow
Ooh, here besides the news
Of holy war and holy need
Ours is just a little sorrowed talk

in this song:

Ordinary World

Okay, first of all, you are wrong about that being about what you think it is about. "We can still remember S" does not refer at all to the TCGRS (Typical College Girl Rape Scenario) experience that I wrote about. Actually, I can find where I wrote a bit about it after that post, but not previous to it. So either you read my posts backwards or I did write about it before and I can't find it now. Anyway. "S" is something I can't talk about here. Because it involves other people than me, and I was only on the periphery of the "S" situation so it is not my story to tell. But, it does involve a crime and loss and grieving, and that, coupled with my experiences around the TCGRS of my own, leads me to want to tell you these things:

No two people are going to handle being victims of a crime the same way. And there is no wrong way to handle it. If your girlfriend is telling you she can't get over it, she can't forgive, and that it is a big deal...guess what? She's right. You didn't say how long ago her experience occurred. I will tell you that my TCGRS was 19 years ago. My involvement in the "S" situation? Started 29 years ago. That makes a helluva big difference as to where you are in the process of grieving and getting over it. I'm going to guess that her crime took place within the last few years? But even if I'm wrong, who am I to say how anyone else should handle their own situation. Everyone is different.

What I meant by "Ordinary World" being my theme song involves how you can be going along, minding your own business, going down your own life's path with 19 or 29 years distance between you and a traumatic incident. And something can come along and totally blindside you, knocking you off your path and back to where you were  decades ago. It happens  to the best of us. It happened to me, and it happened to my friend, A, last summer. And how you have to drag yourself back to your chosen road, your ordinary world, before it gets all out of hand.  You can call this flashbacks or post traumatic stress or triggering or whatever. But when you have this issue, you have to develop your "drag yourself back to where you want to be" muscle. And this can take years to develop. And you can think you are so far beyond all that crap and guess what? You're not. So, out comes the muscle. Lift a few weights with it and get it back in shape. Have a little rubber-band around your wrist to help you if necessary, a theme song, whatever works, and you will get back there. If your girlfriend has issues like these, she may have not developed this muscle yet. Or she may just handle these things differently than me. Maybe she just is still and lets it all pass through her. Maybe she gets really angry. Maybe she needs to relive it for a while. Whatever. I hope she finds a way to find some kind of effective way to live with it. Whatever way she finds, it is the right one for her.

What I meant by "ours is just a little sorrowed talk" is that we (A and I, not anyone else) are so far removed from it. And we worked hard to get here. So every once in a while, we can have our little sad time flashback thingy, but that's it. We do our thing and then we are done. It is not our lives, it does not define us, it is just something we need to get "tuned-up" every few years or so. We talk to each other, have our little sorrowed talk about it, do a little emotional maintenance, and then we get back to our lives. This is our thing. Doesn't need to be anyone else's. And the whole "holy war and holy need" thing is that our discussions always end up talking about the bigger picture. Why is there so much violence and need in the world? Why is there a need to dominate and hate? Why so much hate against women...the supposed "weaker" sex? What is the definition of evil and is there good in everyone or are some people just evil? And if so, why? How did they get that way? Is it innate or environmental? What can be done to help good win out over evil?

These questions of the ages are where our conversations always seem to end up. And these are issues that are far bigger than what happened to A or what happened to me. We are, unfortunately, just little insignificant dots in the bigger world problem of violence and oppression. Which doesn't mean that our experiences are insignificant, just that unfortunately, we are only two people who have been victimized by crime in a sea of millions and millions throughout history since the dawn of time. For us, and I'm not talking about anyone else here, in a weird way it helps to think that the problem is universal. Not that we, A and myself, were somehow targeted because of something implicit about who we are. That we've done something wrong. It is just saying, look. domination and oppression and violence looms large in our world. This happened to us, but it is so not about us. This is bigger than us and there is nothing we could have done. The only thing we can do now is stay in our chosen "Ordinary World." This is the world of good over evil and kindness over violence. That's all we can do.

Boyfriends of rape victims can either be class A assholes (and if that is your choice, you should probably just gracefully back out) or can be fundamental in recovery. I am EXTREMELY lucky* to have really only ever had experience with the latter type of guy. Even the relationships that didn't work out for whatever reason were actually really cool about this issue. If you want to be one of the good guys and do the right thing; take a step back, learn about rape and its ramifications, get help from a victim's advocate or counselor, do whatever it takes to be supportive. You can click to RAINN (Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network and they can offer information and refer you to confidential hot-lines, counselors and victim's advocates in your area.

*D notes that my extreme luck has more to do with my infamously extreme screening process. I once got picked up for a first date from work. Not five blocks away the guy says that he can't "sleep with a girl without SLEEPING with a girl." I got out of the car at the next intersection, walked back to my office, and announced to my coworker, "date's over!"

Sing It, Girls

Eh, all is going along fine. But I've been in kind of a writing funk. Can't think of any topic that inspires me too much. Part of it is that I'm currently going on month 2 of hacking up MRSA luggies from my tired, tired lungs. Keeps me up all night...but I'm getting some incredible abs from all the coughing, or rather trying not to cough at inopportune moments. And I've learned how to NOT OD on zinc cough drops and midol. Which, by the way, makes everything taste and smell like iron ore.

Anyway, the last 24 hours have seen me in a funky mood. So (apropos to nothing, really) I went Sheryl Crow crazy on YouTube. For some reason, she is one of the female voices that I can hear fairly well. My college friends Joy and Chaz would call this "Dagger Music." So, here. Enjoy some Dagger Music. (And if you have a topic to inspire me with...go ahead and drop it into the comments thread.)

1. The First Cut is the Deepest

2. The Difficult Kind (w/Sara McLaughlin Shelby (?))

3. I Shall Believe (w/Pat Benatar) Sorry for the intro, but this version with PB rocks.

Two Questions, Unrelated

A few of you know that I grew up in the Omaha/Council Bluffs Metro Area and have inquired about the Westroads Mall shooting. My first reaction is that I have a cousin who I thought worked there, and I hoped he was alright. But I since found out that he doesn't work there anymore. It doesn't appear that I know any of the victims (although D's aunt knows the landlord of the killer, so there is always six degrees, I guess.)

My second reaction is the memory of the sheer amount of clock hours, the embarrassing number of weekends of my life I spent at that mall growing up. Countless. I can still remember where every store was. I still remember the time I barfed in Seifert's and then took about 3 years before I entered that store again. I remember which of my high school friends worked there and where. The route I took around and around that mall just hanging out. So it is a bit surreal.

But my third reaction, the strongest, is sadness that these mass killings and seemingly random acts of violence by young men are becoming more and more common and that no place; no one is safe. And that now Westroads will have extra security guards in place and maybe metal detectors and employee security trainings and extra police response training and all that. And how that is so not the right way to deal with this. It is like placing all kinds of parachutes and netting and ambulances and books about how to respond to the medical needs of people who have fallen a deadly distance at the bottom of the cliff while completely ignoring the kids at the top who are running towards it.

Recently, in Oregon, a man committed suicide after he wandered for three days seeking help because he lost all of his belongings on a bus and had no money or I.D. or anything. He most likely had a mental illness. And he went to the Salvation Army and the Emergency Room and the Sheriffs office and the homeless shelter and the county welfare office. None of them gave him any more help than a coat or a meal and sent him on his way. So after wandering for three days, he put himself in front of a train and was killed.

I don't know this Omaha kid's story, I don't know whether he asked for help or what happened. But I do know that many non-profits and government agencies do not really help anyone but themselves. They all provide "education and referral" which is code for passing the buck to a different agency. I know that Nebraskan's, if they are like every one else in the country, will throw up their hands and say, "there were no definitive warning signs! We could not possibly imagine that this guy would walk into a mall and start shooting!" And then they will up security and that will be that. But there are ALWAYS warning signs. I'm not blaming anyone for what happened, but I do know that the number one warning sign is when people are regarded as throwaways. Hopeless, helpless, valueless people who are not worth dealing with and are brushed aside as being less than human. That is the biggest warning sign of all. The person you don't want to deal with and no one else does either? The one you don't want to touch? That is the one who will do something like this.

Girls withdrawal and go inside themselves and become anorexic or do drugs or become strippers or prostitutes and disassociate from those who have disassociated from them. Boys? Much more likely to become violent. And why wouldn't they? We train our boys practically from birth to become violent. Read this interview by Army dude/FBI trainer/author Dave Grossman if you have boys. Chilling.

But for the people who are dealing with this loss right now, I extend my sympathies. Hopefully we as a society can come up with a better plan than extra security at Westroads Mall.

*********************************************************************

Okay, now for something totally unrelated. I've been asked about what my deal is with YouTube and whether I can even see/hear it or not.

I really can't see YouTube videos that well. I go to that site a lot, though because it is kind of like the poor man's iTunes. I don't have an mp3 player. I don't really even have a stereo. I can listen to CDs on my computer or by using the DVD player, but most of my CDs are not unpacked and I don't even know where they are. It is easier to just do a you tube search when I want to hear something.

Can I hear music? Yeah, kinda. I can hear it best with headphones. But I mostly hear the bass/rhythm lines. I've actually become kind of a fan of the bass (You Go! John Taylor!) because of that. I never paid much attention before. But, here is the deal. And why everything I have posted here is such embarrassingly old, old school. New music that I am unfamiliar with just sounds mostly like the rhythm section. When I listen to old familiar music? My brain fills it all in. It seriously sounds like the whole song in my head to me. I know that if I really stop and concentrate, I'm only hearing the rhythm section. But my brain just compensates and it integrates perfectly. Hard to explain. The further back the song from my youth, the better this works. Songs from my childhood and early teen years are just ingrained so much that give me a little hint of the song and I hear the whole damned song just like it was coming through the headphones.

I have thought a lot recently about how I need to bring new music in for the kids sake. They do have a small radio/cd player in their room and they listen to kid music like putumayo and raffi and stupid annoying kid songs and stuff. They also listen to a lot of classical. But I have thought about trying to make a better effort to expose them to new and different kinds of music. My buddy Scalzi was generous enough to ask his readers on my behalf for suggestions for appropriate music for kids that is not specifically kid music. I got literally hundreds of suggestions that I am still sorting through. But I should have asked you all as well for suggestions. So go ahead and bring 'em on if you have some.

Another reason I like Youtube is because I like live performances better than most studio recordings. I always have. In skating there is a saying that you are either 20% better or 20% worse in competition that you are in practice. (Me? 20% worse, btw.) I think musicians are the same way. YouTube has some great live stuff that you just can't find on itunes. It has a ton of sucky stuff, too. But it is fairly easy to sift through it.

Take another old, old song like Fleetwood Mac's "Silver Springs" for example. The studio version is just a sweet little teenage girl break-up song. Its okay. But nothing all that wonderful. Now take this live version. The emotion in it (and the irony that the person she threatens to haunt forever with the sound of her voice is right there next to her--30 years later--still stuck listening to the sound of her voice, heh) makes it a whole different song on a whole different level.

I don't know, I'm a You Tube Junky. I put them up here because I used to have a section of my old website that was called "current song in my head" and it is interesting to go back and see where my psyche was at that exact moment. The current song in my head section is a better snapshot of that than anything I probably wrote. I don't expect 99%, if any, of you to actually click through the videos. I will sometimes watch other people's videos but often don't. Who has the time? But if you want to, fine. If you don't, doesn't bother me a bit. I guess I just have it there to remind myself of my state of mind at the time. Or of songs that I can fill in with my brain.

For A and (Plea?) Only for A

The rest of you may want to avert your eyes.

No, really...move along, there is nothing to see here.

I acquiesce to the fact that I have lost a bet. But really I couldn't lose, insomuch as the bet I lost was that if I did "The Thing I Really, Really Didn't Want to Do" (hereto forth known as The Thing)--it would not kill me. And I did The Thing, and I appear to still be alive. So, you win. And thus, I must pay up. Publicly...apparently.

So, in accordance to the binding contract of said wager, in Section 5: Paragraph 67, here we go:

uhm-mm.

Whereas my judgment as a 13 year-old was obviously very flawed; and

Whereas I have now been reintroduced ad nauseum to that damned band Duran Duran, a band I have not thought about in 20 odd years; and

Whereas now, because you have so brilliantly enlightened me and I have the advantage of my more mature and savvy judgment on such important matters;

I declare that I was GROSSLY misguided and mistaken in my former statement of record that Simon Le Bon was the hot one; and

I declare that I humbly submit to the lovely A's obviously superior taste and have Come To Jesus to the fact that, of course! John Taylor is the hot one.

In doing so, I must make appropriate reparations for my aforementioned sin of doubting the total lustfulness of said John Taylor. Henceforth, I shall do the following:

1.  Chant myself to sleep each night with the meditation, "Play that fucking bass, John. Play that fucking bass, John. Play that fu--" you get the idea.

2.  Replace my boring ole' standard issue Windows desktop wallpaper with this image:

3.  Set my hearing aids so that they only pick out the bass and filter out the trebling voice of Simon so that I can truly appreciate the genius that is the bass line of "Rio."

4.  Watch the following videos three times a day for the next six months:

• I Do What I Do (Even though it is the most hideous song on the planet, it was John Taylor's only solo hit-surprisingly-so I must respect its worthiness.)

• Some Like it Hot (And this one really hurts because in order to appreciate how good John looks in a hat, I have to sit through some woman orgasmically shaving her armpits and Robert Palmer air humping a statue of a bird while wearing a priest's collar.)

• This Eden Song or whatever it is (Which you insist is wonderful and I just don't get it and never will. )

5.  Lastly, in slightly all seriousness, I will continue to use "Ordinary World," which has become my cheesy summer anthem, as my rubber band around my wrist to snap when I get stuck in a forloop and need reminding to just get on with it. I would have never even listened to this song from a band I haven't thought about in 20 odd years if you hadn't of insisted on jamming them down my throat this ridiculous bet. And kept gently pressuring me to do The Thing that I Really, Really Didn't Want to Do. Thank you for that and for continuing to show up in my life every 5 to 10 years, thank you for helping me figure out how is the best way to remember S, and for showing me a great and inspiring example of how forgiveness is a verb that you have to actively decide to do, it doesn't just come along and fall into your lap by itself via osmosis. Many years ago on a Thursday no less, we had an awful day, and that is what it was, an awful day. We can still remember S while getting on with it. "Ours is just a little sorrowed talk" and you are one of the few people in the world who gets that. So, I'll love John Taylor for you any day. And he does look rather fine in this video, and I want that wacky wedding dress with the lampshade for a veil.

And now finally, to get back at you remember how far we've come, here you go you pseudo raver Duran Duran fanatic (???Contradict, much??? Head. Might. Explode.) I'll leave you with this beautiful memory and hope to see you in 5? years:

"Get the fuck away from me, assholes! I have a yeast infection!"
--The ever congenial Courtney Love
   Lawrence, Kansas, 1995

Found it.

This is just to fulfill a request for assistance from Kim, to continue the DD fest we seem to have going on around here. Ya'll the rest of you can disregard, unless you want to see "Ordinary World" from Live Earth. Which I forgot is a pretty damned good song. I remember when I used to hear it, it reminded me of that expression about able bodied people having ordinary lives and trying to make them extraordinary, whereas disabled people have extraordinary lives that they strive to make ordinary. Anyhoo, as for how they look now, Kim...I'd still do 'em. And I still would put Simon first in line (because, of course, they would be lining right up for me) even if the guitarists AND ROGER (goddess) are better looking. But that's just my quirky tastes, not because I can't see well...hmph.

I think if you down arrow after this paragraph and press return to select the video application then tab twice and then space bar once to select it you'll be able to hear it. It first says play, but tab past that and it goes to the buttons on the bottom of the video screen and you have to hit that one. For me, it is reading this button as "button: right arrow" but it is also play. When you push it, it will say, "button: pause" but don't push that, just wait a few seconds and it should load. Did that make any sense whatsoever? Let me know it this works. Sorry, RSS folks, for all the edits. I kept screwing up the directions. Go now Go:

In the Still of the Night*

I've felt kind of crappy this week and have not slept well. It is what me and D jokingly refer to as "a general feeling of malaise." Nondescript symptoms of nothing. But it kind of caught up with me and I had a Bad Parenting Moment.

I think I was just overtired and losing patience. Aaron was lying on the floor and he accidentally on purposely chucked his shoe-ed foot into my face, giving me a big fat lip. What followed was not funny then, but kind of funny now. I just lost my temper and shouted, "Don't Fucking Kick Your Mother!" and walked off. Really, I've been really good about the swearing lately. Honest. I don't think I've used the F word in front of them for months. So, then of course, to rub in my mistake, Naim goes up to Aaron and yells, "Don fukin kick da mama!" in Naim accent. Then, Aaron gets the quivering lip and the alligator tears and cried in sad, pathetic little sobs, "Aaron fuckin kick mama." Yeah, it was a real Dr. Sears moment.

I think we made up today. I went to bed at around 10, got up around 10:45 with insomnia, went back to bed around 3, and then they let me sleep till almost 10:30! So that really helped a lot. They woke up before that, but they played quietly in their beds until I got up. So I think we all felt better today and were nicer to each other.

We took a trip today in our new Kid Utility Vehicle that fabulous Shannon found for me for $107, marked down from $169. It is basically a double stroller that I can drive from the front, which enables me to have a hand free for a white cane (or future guide dog) and keeps the kids safely behind me. It is bigger than I expected and hard to U-turn with, but I think it will help in a lot of situations. I will try to get D to take pictures of us in action with it. But if you are a blind parent, you might want to check it out.

We ran up to the store with it so I could buy ingredients for an Indian vegetarian Kerala thingy I'm making for a pot luck tomorrow. I had to ask for help when it came to ingredients like cardamoms. I can follow a recipe, but I am in no way a gourmet cook. I told D that if it turns out awful that we were going to have to stop off at Swaggath's and buy a dish to take.

My to do list for the summer is absolutely cracking me up. It is so suburban domestic stay at home mom. I would have never believed five years ago that I would be spending my time doing stuff like this. Along with going to potlucks, I'm organizing a neighborhood garage sale, throwing a kid party at the end of the month, and going to church committee meetings. Aren't I quaint?

It is kind of nice to have business like this, though. Its just normal stuff, nothing life or death. No running to hospitals or what have you. I get a bit nervous in calm times like this like the other shoe is about to drop. But I guess I just need to chill.

Well, I have more topics in my head, but I am still feeling really exhausted this week and need to catch up on sleep. So, more surely long and winding posts to come.

*current song in my head(mp3). I got the Stevie Nicks Crystal Visions CD/DVD and it has a really rare version of this song on it. Fits my mood on these insomniacal nights.

Didja Know That Waylon Covered Rhiannon and Gold Dust Woman? Weird.

The kids are going to know the words to every Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac song just as I know the words to every Waylon Jennings song. It's a curse that comes with having to listen to your parents music. I go on a Stevie rampage about every six months to a year and don't stop listening to her for a month, then I don't listen to her for another year. The funny thing about Waylon is, though I don't go out and buy his albums or anything, but when I hear his songs, it is comforting in a nostalgic way, it is childhood, and it is my dad.

Stevie is the same way. I don't think she is the greatest singer or musician in the world, she is just the comfort of childhood that I've carried into adulthood. I listen to her when I'm a a certain mood. And I guess I'm in that mood.

Anyway, here are a few rarities for you:

1. Races are Run off of the 1974 Buckingham/Nicks album.
2. Twisted (with Buckingham) off of the Twister Soundtrack.
3. Fireflies (with Fleetwood Mac) off of a 1980 Live album.

Maybe I'm prejudice, but I don't think putting my kids through Stevie is nearly as bad as Waylon Jennings. I know they'll roll their eyes latter when they are listening to the 2015 version of 50 Cent or whoever. If I've done my job in making childhood a pleasant time for them, then Stevie will be comforting for them, too. (Probably only after I'm dead, though, will they admit it.)

A List of the Embarrassing Songs my Boys Have to Endure their Mother Singing

I can't sing. I suck. I mean...it's bad. I always wished I could sing, I wanted to be a rock star when I was 11; but thank god it was not to be. But some crazy maternal hormone makes you sing to your kids. And some crazy homing device implanted in the newborn brain makes babies want to hear their mothers sing more than anything else. So I sing to them as they lovingly look into my eyes as if I am Sarah Brightman with the added bonus of an attached trough for them to eat out of. The paradise that is sitting in mommy's arms whilst she sings and feeds you. Someday they will realize that milk comes from cows and mommy shouldn't sing.

But what is more amazing than them enjoying my crappy singing is the songs I sing to them. Stuff from my childhood that I haven't thought of in years, that I didn't even realize I knew the words to, comes out of my mouth in all of its off-key glory. Here is a list of their favorite mommy songs (with links to lyric):

Annie's Song--John Denver

Top of the World--Carpenters

Keep Feelin' Fascination--Human League

Angel--Stevie Nicks

Sarah Smile--Hall and Oats (A Naim fave.)

Ain't No Mountain High Enough--Supremes

Puff, the Magic Dragon--Peter, Paul & Mary

Sweet Child o' Mine--Guns 'n Roses (We change the "she" to Aaron in the first verse and Naim in the second. Aaron's Fave.)

Dream On--Oak Ridge Boys (This one I blame on my mother.)

Amanda--Waylon Jennings (This one I blame on my father.)

Baby, Baby--Amy Grant

Now that I Found You--Alison Krauss

One Love--Pat Benatar

Don't Dream It's Over--Crowded House (This song came to me when I was pregnant and, well...some people were mean to me. The kids still like it.)

Sentimental Lady--Bob Welch

How's that for lamely eclectic? Anyway, I know the words to these songs for some reason and they are guaranteed to bring on smiles or sleep in my guys. How 'bout you all? What works for your little ones?