Journeys with Jood

We are Stardust, We are Golden

Labels: Sunday Sounds

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posted by DivaJood @ 10:31 AM Your thoughts? 2 Thinkers links to this post

Lake Daisetta open for Wildlife Tours

Enigma4Ever alerted me to this exciting new travel experience. I suggested to Fran at Ramblings that we should corner the market on all tours going to the sinkhole. Some minor details:

On May 7, this itty bitty sinkhole (20 feet wide) opened up in Daisetta, Texas. Now it is over 900 feet long and 260 feet deep. And growing! That's the exciting part, it's growing. Now called Lake Daisetta, Danny Diaz, a Texas Parks and Wildlife game warden pointed out the aligator swimming around. He said that ole gator knows enough to avoid the crude oil floating at the top, which might irritate the gator's already rough aligator skin. Personally, I think Shea Butter helps, but who am I to suggest such a thing.

Meanwhile, the cause of all the excitement is a company that sits near the edge of a massive sinkhole in Southeast Texas has been accused of violating permits for disposal of saltwater, which some geologists suggest may have caused the crater. But this li'l old permit violation is opening a whole new segment for us Travel Professionals.

Mayor Lynn Wells is offering Guided Tours of the lake. Here is where we travel professionals fit in. Fran has asked if the guides are fluent in English, rather than merely East Texan. I want to be sure that tours include round trip transfers. We want it to include lunch. I'm worried about the souvenier shop slipping into the gator's mouth, but perhaps souveniers can come with final tour documents. You know, things like a bottle of salt waste water with some crude oil floating in it; a tee-shirt saying "I watched the Gator swim Lake Daisetta and all I got was this lousy shirt; that sort of thing. A full day tour should include pre-paid gratuities, and we're only going to charge $125 per person. Payable in full, up front, upon booking. Because, if you fall into the sinkhole, I am NOT going to pull you out.

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posted by DivaJood @ 11:54 AM Your thoughts? 17 Thinkers links to this post

Friday Granddaughter Blogging

I like Minnie Mouse dress. It cute.

My gramma sent a email to the pretzlenet in the white house telling him he made her real mad about what he said yesterday in Israel. Thie pretzlenet is digutsing. If you go to J-Street you can send a letter too.

Bye bye, I hafta go to school now.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

UPDATE: Cinema Verite, take two, a musical:

MOMMY: (Driving the car, Beanie in the backseat in her car seat) What shall we sing?

BEANIE: O Mick Donnal

MOMMY: (sings, with BEANIE prompting each animal, each possible pet, and then making that sound until they've all been sung) What animal now, Sweetie?

BEANIE: Gramma!

MOMMY: (Singing) Old MacDonald Had a Farm, E-I-E-I-O, and on his farm he had a Gramma, E-I-E-O, with a:

BEANIE: Snore snore snore snore snore

(MOMMY LAUGHS SO HARD, SHE HAS TO PULL OVER TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. BEANIE IS QUITE PLEASED WITH HERSELF.)

END SCENE

Labels: Friday Grandbaby Blogging

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posted by DivaJood @ 6:50 AM Your thoughts? 8 Thinkers links to this post

How I learned to Drive Manual Transmission

Yesterday, I spoke with my ex-husband about his upcoming trip to Israel with our son. They needed a car, they needed trip insurance, they need some hotels, and he needed my professional help. Yes, I'm a travel professional. Don't try this at home. We talked about what kind of car he wanted to rent, and he said "Not a Fiat 500" and we both burst out laughing. We'd met on Kibbutz, in Israel, and that Fiat played a part in our story.

In May, 1969, I moved to Israel. I was 20 years old, a college drop-out, and an idealist who felt shattered by the direction the United States had moved: Richard Nixon was our President, we were enmeshed in a horrible war in Viet Nam, our nation was torn apart. What better thing for a young Jewish girl to do than move to a new nation, become a pioneer, farm, get my hands dirty. My parents dropped me at the airport, and off I went on my new adventure.

I met my ex- on the first day I arrived. He literally grabbed my art portfolio out of my hands and carried it to the housing block I was assigned. He was on a bicycle. He thought he was dashing. I thought he was an asshole. So began 22 years of ragged togetherness before it ended in divorce. Hell, we get along better divorced than we ever did married, but that's a whole nother story.

This story is about a four cylinder Fiat 500, a car that was manual transmission and only had two cylinders working. It wasn't our car. It didn't really belong to anyone, exactly. This girl purchased it in Spain for $500, drove the hell out of it until she appeared on the Kibbutz one day, parked it, and stayed for a month. She left, and somehow the car (and the keys) stayed. Somehow, we had those keys. So, we just sort of decided we had right of first whatever.

Israel in 1969 was very much a country on defense. Still bearing the swagger of the Six Day War, when the Golan Heights, East Jerusalem, and the West Bank were captured, there was a bravado that defied the constant sense of looking over one's shoulder. We were not far from a small border town, and that town was constantly being shelled by Katusha rockets launched by Palestinians in Lebanon. It didn't stop us from hiking the hills - in fact, we felt in more danger from the wild dogs than from the rockets. Kids in their twenties feel immortal.

I cannot describe how beautiful this region was. The light, the colors of the land, the Jordan River - all of this begged for exploration. And we had a car at our disposal, so explore it we did. But there was the issue of the two cylinders - we would pull into gas stations not to fill up with gas, but because the radiator was about to overheat and we needed to add water, or coolant, or whatever it is you put into a car to keep it from blowing up. The other issue was that because Israel was at war, there were roadblocks set up all over the place. My ex- was without a driver's license; I didn't know how to drive stick. He decided there was no time like the present to learn.

Oh, there is a third issue. I don't like to take direction much. And one of the reasons he's an ex-husband is because he was a bit over-bearing. (I love it when I understate.) And I am a natural blonde.

So we pulled over into a secluded area to teach me the workings of manual transmissions, and clutches, and forward, and not grinding gears, and when to shift, and "GODDAMNIT, STEP ON THE CLUTCH AND THEN EASE IT INTO GEAR", and then it was time for my first roadblock. It did not go well. I lurched the car forward, I jerked it and it stalled. I tried again. Stalled again. The soldiers told my ex- to get me out of the drivers seat or they would run me in. We decided that my driving was not so good, and we'd be better off with him driving without that pesky credential. License? We don need no stinking license. Thus ended my driving experience in Israel.

I eventually taught myself in an emergency back in the States. My son spiked a sudden fever at age 4. My ex- had my car, I had our VW Bus, which was manual, and I needed to take my son to the doctor. I somehow managed to get there without a problem, except I couldn't figure out reverse. Later that weekend, I learned.

But we lived in Israel for a year before we moved back to the States. It was in Israel that I listened to Neil Armstrong's voice as he took his first steps on the Moon. The night of July 20th was hot, sticky and cloudless as we gathered around the radio - staring up at the moon - the first steps toward extraterrestial colonization after we completely fuck up Earth.

I was in Israel when my beloved Cubs folded to the vile, loathe and disgusting New York Mets. Not the Miracle Mets, no, nay, never: The MALEVOLENT Mets, forever evil in my book. I was in Israel when everyone was going on down to Yasgur's farm for the Woodstock Nation. I was in Israel for a year, and it changed me forever.

Last night, I was watching Neil Jordon's film, "Michael Collins." In the extras on the DVD, Jordon writes that Michael Collins developed new strategies for the independence of Ireland. His tactics include what are now recognized as urban guerrilla tactics - Jordan is firm in pointing out that Collins was a soldier, a politician, and would deplore terrorist tactics. In fact, in the 1940s, the underground Jewish militia, the Irgun, patterned itself after the Irish Republicans. Yitzak Shamir so admired Michael Collins that he took the nickname "Michael."

I believe that Yassar Arafat was of this ilk: he was a soldier, and his PLO employed the kinds of urban guerilla tactics that Collins developed. Not so the terrorist group, Hamas. Hamas straps explosives onto the bodies of young, disenfranchized men and tells them to go blow up a coffee house. Attack civilians. And then Israel behaves like the British did and bulldozes houses; cuts off water, electricity; builds a fence. Our world has gone insane.

This morning, Dusty sent me a link to this article from the New Republic. The article goes into depth about J-Street, the new lobbying group and political action committee that says it will represent the interests of liberal American Jews.

The group, according to its website, favors "diplomatic solutions over military ones, including in Iran; multilateral over unilateral approaches to conflict resolution; and dialogue over confrontation with a wide range of countries and actors when conflicts do arise." Perhaps most controversially, its founder favors negotiating with Hamas.

"It's true that American Jews are overwhelmingly liberal on most issues; the problem for J Street is that Israel simply isn't one of those issues." My own family is an example: my ex-husband and son support Israel and Israel's actions completely. My ex-husband speaks of Palestians as though they are less than human. Sort of the way Jews were talked about in the past. My daughter and I support a two-State, diplomatic solution and to me, this means that Israel must talk to Hamas. They must. To pursue a military stance will ensure the destruction of Israel. The only way for Israel to survive, nay, thrive, is through diplomacy.

What the Palestinians need is a Michael Collins, an Eamon de Valera, a Yitzhak Rabin. What Israel needs is some restraint, and a lobby like J-Street to make the Government listen. Most Israeli citizens support a two-state, diplomatic solution, as do a growing number of American Jews. J-Street supports peace, a two-state solution, security for Israel, and using diplomacy, rather than military force, to deal with countries like Iran and Syria. It is only the far Right wing (the millenialists, the Religious Right, the Rev. Hagee) who want Israel to keep Gaza and the West Bank.

Perhaps, as my ex-husband and our son drive around Israel in the car I've secured for them, they will come to terms with a more even-handed point of view. I can only hope.

Labels: Israel at 60;Palestinians;Peace

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posted by DivaJood @ 11:53 AM Your thoughts? 24 Thinkers links to this post

The Empire Strikes Barack

Hat tip to The WIZARD,fkap for this bit of brilliance:




With correct spelling.

Labels: Obama '08

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posted by DivaJood @ 7:40 AM Your thoughts? 10 Thinkers links to this post

A Gap In The Space Between Life And Art

Robert Rauschenberg, a true 20th Century Master, died Monday May 12 at 82 years of age. The critic Robert Hughes once said that Rauschenberg "showed America that all of life could be open to art." Still, people fail to look, fail to see.

Rauschenberg used to say that he worked in the gap between life and art. I can say without question that his works fill that gap. There was a joy in his work, a playful seriousness that never failed to amaze me. Rest in peace, Mr. Rauschenberg.

Labels: Public Art, Rauschenberg

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posted by DivaJood @ 7:08 AM Your thoughts? 7 Thinkers links to this post

Chicago Cubs Baseball

This makes me happy. Yes, that Sam Zell will not let former Illinois Governor Jim Thompson and his Illinois Sports Facilities Authority turn Wrigley Field into another U.S. Cellular Field (a disaster of a park if I ever saw one) and sell equity seat rights, which requires a person to sign a long-term contract to buy a specific seat for a price that is either fixed or rises in an agreed-upon way, much like a fixed or adjustable-rate mortgage.

I can imagine it now - selling sub-prime seats to a baseball game. No money down. And a balloon mortgage at that. What happens if the buyer defaults? Does the bank forclose on the seat? "Sorry, jerk. Give up that popcorn and hot dog. You're outa here."

Maybe there will be some kind of insurance clause to go with it - like to purchase seats, you have to get pre-authorization from your insurance company. And if you are lucky enough to get a generic seat, it will cost only $10; but if you have to have something that's non-formulary, well, it will cost you your first-born. But you can see the game, right?

Maybe the seats will only be available to people who have never thought about recycling their plastic, and drive Hummers (don't they still get subsidized gasoline?)

I digress. I love the Cubs. I'm glad that Thompson won't get the park. I like this bit of history. But frankly, I think that the greed that's involved ruins the game.

Labels: Baseball, random thoughts

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posted by DivaJood @ 3:37 PM Your thoughts? 7 Thinkers links to this post

Around the "Internets"

Around around around the world wide web. I'm finding so many interesting sites. Here are a few that have my attention now:

Simply Wait is a writer's blog. She is thoughtful, and raises interesting questions. I just found her via New Dharma Bums.

Anitazanaxnow is an eclectic mix of thoughts. She also writes beautifully. Found Anita through Utah Savage who I found through Redheaded Wisdom.

And the aforementioned Utah Savage, who is quite eloquent and quite political. Interesting stuff, these writers. I have nothing more to say about it, other than go visit.

Labels: around the "internets"

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posted by DivaJood @ 7:00 AM Your thoughts? 2 Thinkers links to this post

Israeli Center Against House Demolitions

It's the government, not the people. Another Israeli organization that actively opposes the Olmert Government's policies toward Palestinians is The Israeli Center Against House Demolitions. Their current project is to rebuild 18,000 homes that have been demolished by the government. Peace WILL prevail.

Labels: Israel at 60;Palestinians;Peace

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posted by DivaJood @ 2:55 PM Your thoughts? 8 Thinkers links to this post

Reflections on family

My mother died in 1984 from ovarian cancer. The year was hellish on many levels. My mother and I had never been close; she was cold, a hypochondriac, paranoid, fearful. She self-medicated with pills and alcohol, and did not get the help she so desperately needed. There were circumstances that drove her to the mental state she lived, but suffice it to say that, as one of ten children, she struggled for attention and never had the tools to properly nurture. Far from it; at one point, she told me that if I had been a better daughter, she would never have gotten ovarian cancer.

My father died in 1996 from pulminary fibrosis, a calcifying of the lungs which causes suffocation. He'd had lung cancer 25 years before, and this pulminary fibrosis developed eventually because of the aggressive treatment he'd had for the lung cancer. Pa was one of seven, but not as cleanly as my mother was. My father's mother and father were divorced when he was four; she eventually remarried, and her second husband (grandpa) had five children with his first wife, Molly, who had died from cancer. Then grandma and grandpa had one more child, rounding out the seven.

My father was a fun guy; he was the classic "hale fellow well met", a screw-up in business, and a drinker. He was unhappy in his marriage, but refused to divorce because it just wasn't good for the children. I don't think he ever forgave me for divorcing, but that's another story.

While I was in Chicago, my mother's sister Sally died at age 98. This leaves only two of the ten left, and they are both in their 90s. And yesterday, I received an email from one of my cousins telling me that my father's sister Anne died May 8th. He had a link to the obituary, and the shock of all shocks: since Anne was one of grandpa's five from his first wife, the obituary only listed those siblings - a complete erasure of my father and my aunt Junie. Aunt Anne was the last of my father's siblings - so now, my brother and I, and our cousins on Pa's side are the older generation. We're it. And I feel adrift in a world of chaos.

My upbringing was not easy. Still, with the tools of recovery in Alcoholics Anonymous, I feel that I've made strides in forgiving my parents for their mistakes - my mother did not have any tools, and frankly, what she experienced was pretty awful. I know that she did the best she could with absolutely no tools for living. I know that she was not intentionally cruel, but that she really thought she was doing her best. I know that I did NOT cause her ovarian cancer. And I know that I've become a better mother even though I didn't have an example of good mothering to follow.

Still, I feel that I lack something, some deep ability to make a real connection with others. I live alone, and I am happy to isolate. I have friends, and I do see them with regularity, but am equally happy to sit at home without contact with others. That's so weird! Even I know it's peculiar. But reading that obituary yesterday put me in a very dark place.

At any rate, Beanie and my daughter called me yesterday morning to wish me happy Mommy's day. Beanie talked a lot, she's really exploded in her language skills, and she's having a field day making fun of my snoring. Then my son called in the evening to wish me happy Mother's day, and I had a great conversation with him. He's so funny, and he's brilliant. I am very proud of my kids, despite the fact that they don't get along with each other. My fault, I know it. I don't know how to fix it, as they are 37 and almost 35. I'm done raising them.

Life is messy. Family is messy. We all do the best we can, and we all muddle through. But today, today I feel a bit blue, and lost, in a sea of chaos.

Labels: family stuff

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posted by DivaJood @ 7:36 AM Your thoughts? 5 Thinkers links to this post