Judge Not, Lest Ye Be Judged

I can honestly say that even before I had the kids, I was never one of those people who was irritated by children and families in public. I never gave parents a dirty look if the kids were acting up. You know the look, the kind you get because your child suddenly laughed too loud, or started crying, or is taking forever to get out.of.the.way of an entire stream of public at the metro or the checkout. I figured the parents were mortified all by themselves. Goodness knows I usually am.

I'll be the first to say I had no clue what to actually do with children. But I did recognize that it wasn't always the parents fault, and that sometimes, kids or parents were just having a bad day. Mostly it just didn't bother me if the kids cried loud and long on a plane or if we were seated next to a family with kids at a restaurant. I don't know why, it just didn't seem that big a deal. Or maybe my ability to tune things out was greater than the noise level - for which I am thankful. I think life would be harder if I was one of those people who got fixated on "that one thing" or couldn't ignore the wailing/laughing/noise in general. Obliviousness is a good thing in this case. Who knew?

After reading two articles in a 24 hour period that talk about judging and being judged on "that one thing" I think I am going to remind myself that now that I do have kids, I need to stay that way. Non-judgmental, that is. Not oblivious to what my children are doing. Because everyone can have a bad day, a bad moment that sometimes unfairly defines you forever.

The first was about Capt. Cheslea "Sully" Sullenberger, who made a water landing on the Hudson river, bang in the middle of New York City, and saved every life onboard. The second was by Susan Klebold, whose son was one of the killers at Columbine. Both were sobering because they make one point in common: It doesn't matter what you do, how good you've been, how law abiding, conscientious, or productive. All people may remember you for might well be one single moment in your life, even if it was completely out of your control and something you had nothing actively to do with.

Sullenberger, who'd flown hundreds of flights and thousands of hours, might have been on probation or led a sordid personal life - he didn't, carm down, this is a "what if," not a TMZ scoop. But the point is he'll forever be the Hero of the Hudson because of one moment in which he probably thought "fuck it, I'm going to land this bird on the water because it's safer for everyone on board and damn the millions that will be written off by the company." One moment that could have gone horribly wrong because he landed a fully loaded plane on a slice of water in the middle of a densely populated urban mega center. One moment that he'd prepared for for years, but could have gone horribly wrong. Luckily, it happened not to.

Meanwhile Susan Klebold, who seems to have been a responsible mom who did everything a parent is supposed to, was taken completely unawares in the most horrible way. And therefore lives in a nightmare from which she will never really awaken. It will not matter if she redeems herself a million times over. She will forever be a killer's mother, even if the rest of us who have kids know that our children's capacity to have alternate hidden lives right under our noses is astonishing and something over which we probably have far less control that we think.

Sullenberger has a way of looking at things that is ruthless and the right way to go about things, but something most of us are trained out of because our jobs don't involve matters of life and death, because most of us get along to go along. It's about "goal sacrificing."

When it's no longer possible to complete all your goals, you sacrifice lower-priority goals. He instinctively knew that goal-sacrificing was paramount on Flight 1549. "By attempting a water landing," he says, "I would sacrifice the 'airplane goal'—trying not to destroy an aircraft valued at $60 million—for the goal of saving lives."

Think about that for just a minute. Sixty million. It's a lot of green. Most of us would have our asses handed to us if

we lost a company that kind of money, never mind if it's the "right" thing to do. It's why we don't.

Parents goal-sacrifice all the time. I remember my mom saying to me early on, "I don't care if you don't like me, I'm not here to be your friend." And I find myself saying that already to my kid, the pre-schooler. But goal-sacrificing machinery isn't the same as dealing with your kids, is it?

I cannot imagine being in Klebold's shoes. I wonder how much she goal-sacrificed to get her introverted teenager to be more normal. I can't imagine what it's like to do your best and realize in such a public and perennial way that it wasn't enough in the form of so many shattered lives. I do my best and it seems frequently lacking. And my kids aren't even in grade school yet! I refuse to hold her forever responsible. I've been around long enough to know that in some cases, nothing you do is enough.

Yes, there were probably signs and clues all along. But here's the thing, if you don't know they're clues, you don't recognize them as such, you don't know to look for them. All those clues and signs, ask yourself, are you so sure you'd have seen them? Are you really so certain that you'd never have missed them? I imagine it's like being a stranger in a strange land. Like the time I was in a foreign country, and didn't realize until after I'd left that I'd spent three of my vacation days all by myself in their version of the dangerous slums. I'm a pretty savvy person, I've survived public transportation in India, and have pretty good instincts. But I never knew to be afraid in that place because the neighborhood sure didn't look like any slum I'd ever seen. It didn't occur to me that the tiled roofs and mud walls going back to Roman times could possibly be feared as much as Kamathipura after dark. The men hanging out on stoops didn't look menacing or like anything evil. But apparently I got really lucky.

Susan Klebold did not recognize the clues any more than I did. She did not get lucky. For her, it did all go horribly wrong.

I have no idea what I'll be remembered for, if at all. I hope it is positive. So until it is all over, I am reserving judgment. I will judge not lest I am judged. I will not draw any conclusions until I've walked in your shoes. And I will keep my mouth shut about my own children and count my blessings when they're being well behaved. Not just because there is no point in attracting the evil eye, but also because I don't want to be one of those people who says, "my kids don't do that, that'll never happen to me." Yes, I realize that's a judgment, but the thing is, I don't want to be one of those folks, because you never really know.

RIP, all you who died at Columbine. God bless you and be with you, those who survived.

p.s. Obama's Peace Prize

1) Yes, I know a lot of people lost a good deal of respect for the Nobel Peace Prize when Arafat won. (Only because they're not old enough to remember how dumb it was when Kissinger won.) But it doesn't get the same intensity of scorn that people - even the non-John Boltens of the world - have for the UN. Yet. Especially since winning the Nobel can fundamentally and concretely provide a recipient the means with which to do what they do. Which is why they could have picked many others -

2) Maybe I like my winners to be older and more tested. I'm not saying Obama has led a charmed life. He carries it off well, but he's hardly to the manor born, and people who think nothing of what is means to be bi-racial are typically people (nearly almost always white) who've never had to live in those shoes.

But dude, let the man overcome a few serious professional potholes other than Rev. Wright's embarrassing antics during crucial primaries! He's catching some serious debris right now. Let him get past it and make a serious dent in things before you decide he's already made a difference.

Obama's Peace Prize - WTF?

I'm sorry, but this is utterly ridiculous.

Make no mistake. I may be beyond annoyed at how the Obama White House - despite having Rahmbo at it's disposal - mishandled health care all.freaking.summer, not to mention the dumbass beer summit the Prez stepped right into. I'm still glad he won, and not McPalin.

But he's been in office less than a year, there's been the ruinous summer of teabaggers, birthers, and "keep government out of my medicare!", he's being yanked by Ahmedinejad, and oh yes, he's barely 50 and has three fourths of his first term to go in a scary economy, two shooting wars, one in which we're looking at sending in tens of thousands more troops as of this morning. What are they rewarding him the peace prize for?

Per the Washington Post's write up :

"Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future."

Yes, but he hasn't actually done anything yet! I mean seriously? By that token let's just give George Clooney the next Peace Prize for his graceful and humble but very meaningful acceptance speech for his Syriana Oscar. Because hey, millions watch that and for more than a moment, it gave people quite a bit of hope that America's most widespread and powerful point of influence was capable of much more than Britney's latest antics.

I'm also annoyed because now anything the Prez does achieve will fall short of expectations. Like he needed more of that.

More from the article:

"His diplomacy is founded in the concept that those who are to lead the world must do so on the basis of values and attitudes that are shared by the majority of the world's population."

Yes. Lovely thought. But that hasn't translated to a solid reality of peace on the ground yet! What are these people thinking? And do they not realize that this invites scorn not just of the prize but also the President's efforts because gee, it's a "concept."

Even better:

....committee chairman Thorbjoern Jagland said he hoped the prize would add momentum to Obama's efforts. At the same time, Jagland said, "We have not given the prize for what may happen in the future. We are awarding Obama for what he has done in the past year. And we are hoping this may contribute a little bit for what he is trying to do."

Oh great. The Nobel Peace Prize - Obama's newest cheerleading squad!

This Prez doesn't need people on his side. He already has that. If anything, he needs people - other than his wife - who will keep him honest in the bubble. He needs people to help him do some heavy lifting and actually get things done faster. He doesn't need more vaccuous praise that allows opponents - who are gathering steam despite their nutball quality (Exhibit A, Orly Taitz) - an easier way to Swiftboat him over the next three years.

The Are The Days .... This Week

It is a perfect fall evening as I write this. 5:30 pm, still light, but that lovely grey late afternoon early evening light that hints at crisp cold morning, pleasantly chilly nights, fires, apple picking, red leaves, the whole bit.

In my house, it is the usual goings on. In the absence of mayhem – for which we are deeply grateful – the older one is watching PBS cartoons while the younger one is actually not pestering him. Dinner is already made and waiting to be served – this never happens, and it's why I have time to do this. More important, the younger one isn't demanding to be held, which is why I can actually do this while I have the time.

It occurs to me that even as I love my children deeply, from where I am now, someday I will be incredibly glad that they will be grown ups. That if I am home or even at work on such a fall evening, I will have the time to sip a hot cocoa, look out of the window, and daydream with the possibilities and the holidays that the fall always seems pregnant with. That the holidays will go back to being an enjoyable time, rather than the chaos they are now with two little ones. That I might have the ability to say, “Enh, let's go out to dinner!” Which never ever happens at the moment.

It also occurs to me that when the children are grown, I will miss them. I will probably look back and wonder why I was so eager for them to be grown much less gone. I wonder if I will look back and miss their mess, the lack of a coffee table (which at the moment is just an accident waiting to happen for Superman flying off or on to any surface), the endless trail of small and random plastic toy-like objects, the constant migration and repatriation of my kitchen implements into the living room.

I won't and yet I probably will. Today, I can't wait. It will mean I will have gotten myself back. Because that's what gets lost right now – my ability to just up and leave. To go to a bookstore mid-week without having to worry about a curfew. And actually get more than one thing done a day.

Tomorrow? Who knows? Tomorrow my babies will be teenagers. Or worse, adults who have failed to launch. And this afternoon of dinner made, children quietly playing, the perfect fall evening is what will look like the enviably halcyon days when all that had to be done to fix the crankies was more food at dinner and a story in the rocking chair.

Being Thankful

There have been a lot of big changes in the last few months. New baby, medical emergencies, bereavements, job anxiety. And yet, this morning, I had the same thought I have for years - it could all be so much worse, I have little to complain about.

I have never, and probably won't in the near future, been homeless or starve.

I've never been in an abusive relationship. Sure there are people in my life who cause no end of aggravation. But I've gotten older, more able to manage those relationships, and not allow them to change me or my day. (That would be the joy of approaching 40 - you give less of a shit.)

I'm getting older and creakier, but my immediate family and I are in better health than most. Those who are sick in my family have ailments with cures, or at least seriously good drugs.

I don't think twice about unending loads of laundry - because water isn't scarce, electricity isn't unreliable, neither is prohibitively expensive or a security risk to my acquiring them on a daily basis, and most important, I'm not doing anything by hand.

I don't think too far ahead about the pantry because the store will be open as early as 5 am, and as late as midnight. If we run out, no one is going to be even mildly inconvenienced.

I don't worry that I will be penalized for speaking my mind. Yes, I blog anonymously - because we can't pick family and I've no desire to stare people down on any regular basis. (That's part of approaching 40 - I no longer look at it as some major failing on my part if I haven't stood up to people or argued my point on principle - for what? No one's changing their mind any time soon and there's little value to it if it's just you looking like the sole buzzkill who didn't get the joke. That gets old.) But I'm not worrying - yet - about any midnight knocks.

It's not yet Thanksgiving, but I am thankful for my full plate. Now to earn it every day.

Polanski: "I'm shocked, shocked!"

Why are people shocked that so many Hollywood folk are outraged on Polanski's behalf? Perhaps it's because I lived in that town AND am a total cynic (the two being quite different things in my case), but I'm not surprised at all. No one cares what you do there as long as you make it to your call on time and don't fuck up the production schedule, that which provides thousands of non-famous working folk with jobs, and all the suits with their profits.

And can someone tell me why we're at all looking to Tinseltown for role models?! It's nice when they are (Clooney and Darfur, for instance) but honestly? Their job isn't to be better or even good people. It is to entertain, for three hours max. That's it. They're frequently fucked up people who look for lives in extra-normal circumstances so we don't have to. So for goodness sake, stop getting your knickers in a twist about how they don't realize how wrong they are. And don't after that go off boycotting their work either. Unless you also plan never to, say, listen to Miles Davis (misogynist), appreciate Picasso ('nuther man with huge women problems), read Shakespeare (serious mother problems - the only good ones are dead) ... need I go on?

Good God. Talk about a clusterfuck of bad judgement to start with and now the permanently bemused public that annoys me with it's confusing people with their art.

Thank you. We are done for the day.

Karwa Chauth: The Intense Annoyance Thereof

My apologies in advance if this post is even more all over the place than usual. There's a lot to be annoyed about.

I'm almost afraid to check my email today for fear of questions about the latest article on Karwa Chauth.

When I was a child, the practice was this weird thing hapless uneducated cow-belt north Indian women did, the kind who were uber-conservative and frowned on the rest of us women having, you know, the vote. As I got older it was a maudlin plot twist in Bollywood movies. Then in my twenties it was a dramatic thing that Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge tossed into the spotlight after Bollywood became a pan-Indian experience that other people (including Indians from the rest of India and the world) began to take cultural cues from (because really, we all want to live like the movies, complete with antiquated ABCD values that even ABCs have moved past, duh).

Now it's this thing that's gotten ink every year for the last few in papers like the NYT and the WaPo. The better for people to call me somewhere between amused and appalled and say something to the effect of "WTF...?" And for me to say, "Nope. India is roughly the size of western Europe, with an older history, and far more languages and cultures in the mix. This does not fly in the part of the country where I'm from - we're not benighted people who actively choose to live in the last century." It gets old, the explaining. Particularly with Karwa Chauth, which always seemed to me to exalt husbands at the expense of powerless wives who are terrified into depending on them completely.

And I don't know if this is how the author of this particular article meant for things to seem. But between the description of the near doormat pitiful mom, the dad with zip people skills and/or lack of verbal filter, the demeaningly desexualized sleeping arrangements (which make sense in India, but not so much in Canada) ... Karwa Chauth seems to fit in a mindset of unhappy, inequitous marriages. One where soft spoken wives are used up, and reminded that their entire well being is pegged to the husband, to the pati parmeshwar, never mind if he's a pig whose candor everyone would be just fine without.

Maybe that's why I hate this particular representation of the practice extra hard in this article. I loathe the bit about the mom finally sitting on the couch, with the somewhat captive husband's lap in her head while she chants the Hanuman Chalisa. She finally seems to have the advantage. But it reminds me of the one publicly cheated on wife in my family, who prevailed just because the mistress finally left. Who the fuck wants to have power at the end, when they're old and dried up, when they're asexualized completely into sterility, and there's nothing left to control but a washed up husband? It's an unfair comparison, I'm sure, but that's exactly where the brain went.

And no, husbands do nothing remotely similar for wives. In any part of the country. I mean, please. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, and go right back to jail in idiotville.

And the lack of touch? That lack of physicality, the unsettledness of being touched? Alien. Scary and not quite human. I'm from South India where social norms aren't that radically different in the great scheme of things. But even if it was a sexually segregated society where men sat in one room and the women in another and no one hugs hello or goodbye, I remember physicality and physical affection. Parents hugged children, everyone greeted old people with a physical touch - usually they did a namaste and then grasped your still namaste'd hands. People of the same gender touched one another on the shoulder to express a point in conversation, and at times people sat so close to each other there wasn't reason to touch to make a point. Meanwhile married couples may not have done pdas but it was clear there was affection and physicality because, um, hello! There's a fucking billion of us on the planet, no pun intended. It wasn't a shocker if husbands touched wives' shoulders or wives fixed the husband's clothing.

There probably is some variation of karwa chauth in the south and my community. Hey, we're Hindus and widowhood is a bad thing anywhere in Hindudom. But I don't think it's the dramatic day long exercise in hunger, the waiting for permission to eat. And that's the thing really. Can you get more servile - yes, servile - than starving all day and not eating until the husband, the almighty husband who's required to do damn all but just be a man, says, "you may eat." Gee, hope he's not some cad who forgets what day it is and goes off on a bender.

Now please, before you accuse me of being anti-hindu, keep your freaking pants on. My Indian and Hindu heritages (which are two distinct, sometimes overlapping, but not always interchangeable things that substitute for each other, thank you very much) are much of who I am and very important to me. (How else to explain my dragging the unwilling older one to "Hindu school" first thing on weekend mornings?!) But this tradition? No.fucking.way.

The Healthcare Debate: Apples and Oranges, or maybe not.....

I have no idea about the specifics of the health care debate. Because that would require me to make time to read all 1000 + pages of the proposed bill. It would also require me to pay attention long enough to get past the bloviators. You know, the Sarah Palins with their scary stories of "death panels" and lefty-wingnuts who're about to boycott *Whole Foods. (More on that later.) And really, that's just not happening. There was a time I could sit there and just wait for the smart people who actually make sense to come on for their not loud but important 30 seconds. Now, getting past the yelling just gives me a head ache and makes me actively want to tackle the latest load of unfolded laundry.

But here is my one big pet peeve in the whole debate: STOP TALKING ABOUT HOW WONDERFUL THE HEALTH CARE SYSTEM IS IN OTHER COUNTRIES WITH UNIVERSAL HEALTH CARE!!!! Stop asking about how they can do it and so therefore why can't we. Stop wondering how they do it. They are not us. We are not them.

Consider:

We are here in the US - estimated population 300 + million, estimated number of uninsured 46 million, and oh yes, a dizzying diversity of cultures, ethnicities, diets, languages, and DNA. Those other countries? Not so much.

Cool Britannia may be able to match us in the diversity, but they've a much smaller population. 65 million. Logically, I'd say that makes it easier for the government to provide for said population.

France - population of about 61 million and has only had a huge Muslim minority for the last 40 years. By the way every one's taxed to the gills, the entire economy functions like the contractor who shows up late and leaves early while leaving you with a still unfinished whatever, and if their model of universal health care comes with a culture that remains incredibly sexist (oh yes) I'll pass, thank you.

Then there's Australia - population 21 million. Their diversity? They didn't really let you in unless you were white until the 70s. And let's really not go into how their longest established minority, the Aborigines, were treated.

And then there's the assortment of small wealthy European countries. Even fewer people, very little DNA diversion from the mean, and oh yes, lots of lovely money left over from colonial exploits that no one mentions anymore. (What? You think England and Belgium's economies don't still benefit from the huge amounts of money pretty much looted during the colonial era? I'm over the annoyance of it, but that doesn't mean it's not the case.)

Last but not least, O Canada! Everyone's favorite example. Except Canada's entire estimated population of 33 million plus is less than the 46 million uninsured estimated to live within the US. And Canadians who get tired of waiting for their system to kick in come south.

See where I'm going with this? I'm not saying the system here is great. God knows it's not. And I'm not saying the other systems are crap. Because I don't think "socialized medicine" is the same as "socialism" - that would be a dumbass deduction made by people (Americans in this case) who've never really lived in a situation where the government really does make all decisions. Trust me when I say that that's never been the case here, no matter how bad you think the PATRIOT act is.

The others are not us, and no one is looking at how their models might scale up here in the US with our whoppingly bigger numbers.

You really want to look at how publicly funded health care serves people in examples that may actually apply to the American situation? Look at places like Brazil, India. Places that match the US in terms of sheer numbers, the management required to keep the system running, and the diversity of patients. They provide universal health coverage. Hypothetically.

No idea what it's like in Brazil, but in India, people with a choice do not go to government run anything. Some of the countries best hospitals are run by the government, no doubt. But they're also in large cities. I don't know how well they serve the vast majority that continues to live off the beaten track, in rural areas, and out of sight of the media.

Point is, can we please keep the argument local? For starters it might make more sense if it's tailored to the unique American situation. Even better, it won't allow the idiots on either side to hijack the discussion with intellectual hand grenades of "socialism!"

And I keep harping on the diversity of patient population. Why? Because I think it makes all the difference. I'm not a doctor, and I'm going to very inarticulately paraphrase and relay what I've heard on several occasions from people who are doctors.

For the longest time health care in the US was based on a male and white model. It took the medical establishment time to figure out that what applies to Bob Whiteguy doesn't always apply to his wife, much less his non-white compatriot. On a macro level that made a huge difference in how preventive care functioned. It made a difference in how sick people were diagnosed and treated, men and women, white and otherwise. And that doesn't even factor in for ethnic considerations - different diets, different cultural predispositions to diseases.

Example - the mostly male medical establishment nearly worldwide that did little for women suffering post partum depression or PMS besides telling them it was in their heads. Now multiply that kind of ignorance, or lack of awareness, by a factor of millions, with as many attendant kinks in the system.

I'd love to be wrong, but I'm thinking that it's easier to publicly fund a medical system for a smaller population with a homogeneous population and culture, fewer medical unusualities (hey, new word!), and a similar set of complaints and illnesses that can be documented, researched, and tackled.

Familiarity with a larger and more varied population ends up needing a better/more broadly educated medical establishment, having to think outside the box, having to fund larger and perhaps longer and more varied studies to come to conclusions about sickness and healing. To get a picture that accurately represents levels of either in a society. To make recommendations or have protocols that can be effectively implement. And funded. All that has to be funded, for the long term, sustainably.

Are we up to that? Where is the money going to come from? And even if every hard-bit right winger who hates to pay taxes says an enthusiastic "yes!" is it going to be enough? Last but not least, who is going to implement the change? How long will it take before everyone is on the system? Who takes care of the snafus? The idea that the government, or a government agency would be in charge of some of the above is - I think - what scares the shit out of ordinary people who've seen the same government (regardless of which administration) royally fuck up and impersonally bureaucratize the process so that Joe Citizen gets underserved. To put it mildly.

And the Obama administration hasn't done enough to assuage those fears. If it has, it doesn't seem to be coming through to those paying attention, much less me.

* Whole Foods - I'm just tickled at the uber lefty liberals who just figured out that the CEO of the company that allows them to live healthy and shop with a conscience is a libertarian who sees no reason why doing so must automatically mean being pro-union or pro-universal health care or pro-other such commonly held socially progressive points of view. Did these folks - especially in larger urban areas - not notice how the Wild Oats, Mrs. Gooch's, Bread and Circus et all seemed to mysteriously go out of business or roll over when Whole Foods came to town? One comment on a recent blog about the subject in the NYT called Whole Foods the Walmart of the organic movement. True enough.

By the way, I am far from anti-Whole Foods, and do not plan to boycott it. Furthermore, I am hardly a conservative. I just think it's incredibly funny to see the collective, "I'm shocked, SHOCKED!" routine from people who thought they were going to shun the mainstream's marketing, because they didn't realize they'd fallen for the same thing under a different and more expensive guise.

You really want to save the environment? Stop eating meat. It's still an unnecessarily bigger carbon footprint if you're a locavore spending boucoup bucks on a free range animal.

Just sayin'.