I READ: The Next Book On My List

I read.

You heard me, tough guy. I read.

Not just on the internet. And not blocks of ad copy that are comprised of two simple sentences. Nor the comics. Nor just the home page blips off newspapers' web sites that are 2-3 paragraphs long, written for those with ADD/ADHD. (I do read a lot of newspapers, Atlanta Journal Constitution, LA Times, NY Times, USA Today, Boston Globe, Washington Times, Wall Street Journal, Jackson Clarion Ledger, and by force majeure, Memphis Commercial Appeal so that I can be freed from accusation that I don't know what's going on in my own city, except Wendy Thomas. I don't read Wendy Thomas).

This causes me to digress a moment.

When I was in j-school at Mississippi University for Women -- top school in that state at the time for academics, in horrible demise now because of the puppet leadership installed by the MIHL-- we were taught to write for the eighth grade educated reader. My professors explained that research and statistics revealed that the lowest educational common denominator in this country was an eighth grade reading level. And that was to whom we should write when we filed our stories.

If 50 is the new 30, then the new eighth grade reader is now a fourth grade reader.

Sad but true. Still, I gravitate toward people who read. I'll have to accuse myself of being elitist in that sense.

The old adage "knowledge is power," was first used to mean in some negative way such as to threaten or blackmail.

The more accurate statement today is "knowledge is only power when you use it to create new knowledge".

So, I read. And I wish you would, as well.

The next book on my reading list:













Here are my next three:

The Pulitzer Prize: An Oxymoron

Bob Dylan said he was "in disbelief" when he was told he had been awarded an honorary Pultizer for his song lyrics.

Let me tell you Bob, I was too.

The Pulitzer Prize has been regarded in America as the highest national honor in print journalism, literary achievements and musical composition.

Quite simply, there is no rock music or body of rock music work that deserves a Pulitzer.

Now, I know all of Bob Dylan's achievements in writing song lyrics and making the words sound "like poetry set to music."

I even like a lot of his stuff.

But the Pulitzer is supposed to be awarded to composers who reach the apex of musical composition in the most challenging of music disciplines: classical, operatic and symphonic, and not for a bunch of lyrics that appealed to a social group of people during a particularly hedonistic period in this country (60s free love, sex and dope smokin').

The judges stated he was cited for "his profound impact on popular music and American culture, marked by lyrical compositions of extraordinary poetic power." Then let the Grammys give him a Lifetime Achievement Award.

This move actually reveals the depths to which the Pulitzer Prize has fallen. The judges have stooped to a PR/publicity stunt in an effort to try and rebuild appeal with a public.

The Pulitzer has lost touch mainly because it has not been able to expose journalism in this country for what it has become -- a fly-by-the ratings junkie and change-on-a-whim elitest group of organizations that want to try and talk or write down to the poor, stupid masses instead of doing some real journalism to splash in the faces of corporate and government hacks running this country.

The judges did one thing right. They did not hand out an award in the category of editorial writing. They shouldn't hand out another Pulitzer in any category until they can get back on the right horse: giving awards for work that will stand the test of highest honor.

Thanks for Friends at Thanksgiving

I got text messages and phone calls. Others left voice mail messages at work, at home and on my cell phone. They were contacting me to wish me a Happy Holiday.

Never before have so many people wanted to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving. Yes, I said Thanksgiving, not Christmas or New Year's. Sure, people have wished me a Happy Thanksgiving throughout the years but only in person, face to face. Even then it was only a casual, rather automatic sentiment.

I even got Happy Thanksgiving cards.

Why, I wonder?

Could it be that people are just learning what to be thankful for? Or maybe my group of friends are getting older and are like me, fully understanding that it doesn't matter the size of your house or the model of vehicle you drive. Maybe it only matters that we live in the best country with the best form of government (not the best politicians, though) there has ever been since Adam and Eve and the creation of the Earth.

I like it. Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday of the year.

So, to Cheryl "Action Jackson" and Liz "Baby Girl" and Mary Beth "Strick 9" and Rae'Meka "Rae-Rae Yo Girlfriend" and Candy "Sweet Baby Sweet" and Lindsay "I'll Never" and Leisha "Loose Wheel" and Parker "Boy Band" and Michael "Write Boy" and many, many others ... especially Danny-boy.

Thanks for making me thankful on Thanksgiving.

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Thanksgiving at Aunt Dottie's

Boy, did I have a great time. We had plenty of food and drink. We went to Daddy's sister's house, my Aunt Dottie. We had tons of food and lots of good conversation. Aunt Dottie's chicken and dressing tasted like Mama Gladys's.

I miss my grandmothers so much. Mawmaw Young died in 1973 when I was too young to lose her and Mama Gladys died in 1986. Thankfully, Mama Gladys (Daddy and Aunt Dottie's mother) got to see and experience a lot of my accomplishments. I'm still mourning their losses.

However, I'm thankful for the Thanksgiving days I had with them. Now, more on my Thanksgiving trip to Aunt Dottie's ...

My cousin, Lanie (Shelaine) has done a fantastic job with her son Kyle. Intelligent, thoughtful, well-spoken, Kyle (right with Mom Lanie) has turned out to be a handsome, personable young man.


Lanie and her husband Stanley (below) have a farm not far from Tupelo where they have a corn maize open to the public each fall.

They've done a great job cutting themes into the corn each year.

Check out their web site:
http://www.wisefarmer.com/.


My cousin Shane (right), who is Lanie's "little" brother, has a gorgeous family.

Shane's wife Vicki (below) could be a model. (That's a New York Runway Walk if ever I saw one!)

This is Shane and Vicki's oldest child, Kenzie (right). Kenzie's only in the tenth grade but she could easily be America's Next Top Model ... except something tells me that Vicki and Shane would NOT let her be on Tyra's show, at least not at age 15 (even though she looks like she's 20).

Vicki and Shane have two more children (left) and they have their hands full with Abby and Lane. Lane is almost two years younger but as tall as Abby. These two clowns kept me busy Thanksgiving day. I loved it!


Here's Aunt Dottie's entire crew (below):



Mom and Dad (below) commented on the way back home how much we enjoyed spending Thanksgiving with Aunt Dottie.

Having these two as parents might explain why I'm so crazy!?!?!?!



Anyway, it's good to have family to spend the holidays with. Thanks for including us, Aunt Dottie. I love you.



Oh yeah, what would a Mississippi get-together
be without plenty of sweet tea?

That Magic Man Santa Is Back -- So Simon Sez

That funny, funny site is back for a lot of hours of holiday tomfoolery.

It's Simon Sez Santa, now in languages other than English. I typed in Spanish and French commands and it works!

This year, there are two more games you can play, Pimp My Sled and Magic Snowball. And, the creators have holiday hats for sale based on your holiday mood, Bah Humbug or Merry Christmas.

I think I'm tired of the holidays already. And before any friends email and ask, no that is not my boyfriend in the Bah Humbug/Merry Christmas Hat.

To buy a hat or to play Simon Sez Santa, visit this site: http://www.simonsezsanta.com/

Broken Arm - Why No Post In More Than A Month

Should a woman my age be skate boarding or beating up men on the softball diamond?

I wish I had a great story for how I broke my arm in three places, like one of the above. Instead, it was more like the beginning of a V.I. Warshawski evening...

It was a cold rainy night that I had spent alone in the office, laboring over files and plans that were due to a client the next day. The wind was howling as I finally closed up shop and headed out into the blistering rain that was coming down in sheets.

The dim parking lot was a precursor to an ominous thing about to happen. Gently sloping to the South, the lot was slick as glass and full of acorns that fat squirrels had already had too much of.

I took a few steps with hands full, a laptop bag dangling over my shoulder and an umbrella wedged between cheek and shoulder, doing no good to protect me from the sideways rain that felt like needle pricks to my exposed skin.

Then boom, I was down before I knew it. The result?

I laid in the emergency room for 4 (yes four) hours unattended with two breaks between wrist and elbow and a fracture of the tip of the elbow.


That was the worst physical pain I've ever endured. Worse than my kidney stone.

At any rate, I'm back, having gotten the cast and the sling off. And just in time for the holidays!!!

To Borrow A Larry Kudlow Phrase, Fred Thompson Is Right On The Money

Some believe the Second Amendment has different meanings for different places, and that the gun rights of citizens in big cities such as New York City and Chicago can be restricted more than the gun rights of those in Tennessee and Montana.

That, paraphrased, was the question put to FDT at a Friday public speaking engagement.
Thompson in non-politician speak responded as I had hoped.

"Nope. It's never seemed to me to be coincidental that the places that have the highest crime rates tend to be the places that have the most restrictions on gun ownership in America."

FDT, he's my man, if he doesn't do, I may have to move to France where Sarkozy is the next best bet over the current crop of losers running this country.

And as for Pseudo-christian James Dobson, who thinks Thompson is not a good choice for the Republican nomination, Dobson doesn't know enough about the Bible and Christianity to be correct on more than half the political points he comments on.

I don't care if Dobson does draw a radio audience in the millions, that just means he's perpetuating lies to millions of people just like Al Gore is doing with his inaccuracies on global warming.

Dobson is in a cult-like group of people that refer to themselves as Nazarenes, not Christians and claim to be part of a holiness movement. There's not a lot that's holy about James Dobson.

He claims the name Nazarene is an acceptable religious name to be called because Jesus was a Nazarene, referred to in Matthew 2:23. In context, this is in reference to Jesus's "homewtown" as I would be called a Memphian or Dobson would be called a Louisianan. If he can't get something this simple about Biblical context correct, how can his rhetoric be believed?

Dobson is one of a large group of Pseudo-christians in the ultra right wing, facist part of the Republican Party, of which FDT is not part.

Just another reason why I'm with Fred.

The Jack Russells of The Baskervilles

Hello, mon cher. I am Franklin D. Baskerville of the famous French Baskervilles. Shhhh! I listen for the evil one, known to mankind as Mr. Squirrel.


(Sniff, sniff) What is that inoucuous aroma? Is that his musk cologne I smell? Yes, he must be nearby!



What? There is a Mr. Squirrel in his house? I'd love to see how it's decorated.

Oh, I'm Boy George Baskerville in case you didn't know.




Ah, ha!! There he is, in the tree. Come down you, you coward!!

Mr. Squirrel must be French, also!











Does my tail make my butt look big?

Boy Took Beating From Jena 6 Like I Did From The Jr. High 3

There's so much news and misinformation flying around the Jena 6 that it has served in the last few days as a painful reminder of something that happened to me when I was in grade school.

Under court order, the public school system where I grew up was forced to integrate the white and black schools not long after James Meredith was the first man with dark skin to enroll in college at Ole Miss (technically, The University of Mississippi).

Meredith and I have this in common: We view ourselves as individual American citizens with equal rights.

I understood that when I was six (started school when I was barely five, already reading at a fourth-grade level). Meredith had to force the then President of the United States to acknowledge that Meredith had basic rights to go to any college no matter what color he was. He did this by demanding the Kennedy Administration -- wow, figure that out...a Democrat who had to be forced into helping a black man get into a college -- provide that recognition to him in a public way by protecting him as he enrolled at Ole Miss.

Meredith's quote, "And my objective was to force the federal government – the Kennedy administration at that time – into a position where they would have to use the United States military force to enforce my rights as a citizen," has been printed in numerous publications and books.

By the time I was in Jr. High, I was a pretty good athlete, only we'd integrated and a former all-black K-12 in an all-black neighborhood was now a biracial Jr. High. I made the basketball team. Only white girl to do so. Was a good point guard, made first string. Then the attacks started.

Up to that point in my life, I'd been taught that God loves us all. I have light skin and light brown-blonde hair but God did not love me more -- or differently -- than my friend Diane, whose skin was the color of crude oil with hair about that same color. He loved us both equally.

But girls the color of Diane daily hit me, pinched me, tried to knock me down in the halls between classes and jumped me outside one day after school had let out for the day. They beat me up real good.

Mother doctored the cuts and bruises and the dentist capped a broke tooth paid for out of Daddy's pocket because we didn't have dental insurance then. Daddy tried to reason with their parents and the school principal with no luck.

This is why you can't reason with terrorists and evil people. They don't care about right and wrong. They'd rather hurt or kill you to get their way and they have no respect for you or your rights.

If the majority of news accounts of the Jena story are correct, then:

The student who had asked to sit under the tree should not have asked unless he thought himself to be second class. He should have gone out there and sat down. He had the right to do that, especially if his parents are paying taxes in the community -- AND, without any retaliation from some people whose parents are bad people (because they obviously did not teach their children to be decent human beings rather than act like facist Nazis).

Those students who hung the nooses the next day from the tree should not have been dealt with so lightly. When there is no fear of a difficult punishment, there becomes no fear to make the next act a more heinous one. They should have been expelled from school for the entire year or allow me to pronounce punishment. I would have put them in day-custody of the sheriff's department on clean-up detail of everything and every place in that county and under house arrest at night seven days a week for the remainder of the school year and failed them for that year making them repeat the grade the next year.

Even if Justin Barker (the white boy that took the beating from the Jena 6) was mouthing off, it only showed that his parents had not taught him to be a civilized human being with respect for others and this fact did not give Mychal Bell the right to beat on him. Bell's criminal record prior to his beating of Barker simply shows he was not taught by his parents to be a civilized human being with respect for others, either.

Regarding my plight in Jr. High, I had to follow what I had been taught. This is what my parents taught me and why I did not retaliate that year for the beatings I received from those girls:

I will not strike back because the Bible tells me not to. Romans 12:19.

I will ask God to bless those who treat me unfairly or harshly because the Bible tells me to. Matthew 5:44.

I will forgive those who have hurt me because the Bible tells me to. Luke 23:24.

Too bad Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton don't know enough about the Bible (they claim to be ministers but obviously are not since they don't know the Bible) to tell everyone -- black and white, resident and visitor -- in Jena to do what the Bible says.