As Others See Us

I put this together for my company blog, so I thought I'd post it here as well.

Every day we wake up, rub the sleep out of our eyes, and make a decision about...what to wear. Some of us plan ahead and lay out the clothes the night before in order to avoid that last-minute rush that can end up surprisingly agonizing (and time-wasting): Khakis or cords? Dress or pants? Why is it that the ONE SHIRT I want has disappeared from my closet?!? Don't even get me started on shoes.

Some simply throw on whatever's right at hand and...cleanish. But for others, that choice can inform the entire day. We base it on weather, mood, places to go that day (meeting? yoga? lazy Sunday?), who we'll see. Clothing is an extension of how we view ourselves and how we want others to view us. More than once I have looked at strangers walking by and wondered, "What process did he use to put that exact outfit together? What went through his mind?" This question arises for choices that range all the way from gorgeous to spectacularly bizarre.

I have just entered the world of advertising and marketing as an insider and not merely a consumer. Yet I realize that I've asked those same kinds of questions of certain ads I've seen, although it often goes along the lines of, "If they chose this ad, what on earth did they leave on the cutting room floor?" That, combined with the sheer volume and quality of work my colleagues put in to make sure their clients get exactly what they want, makes me realize anew just how much stock we put in perception. Whether it's choosing the color of one's socks or what font to make a tagline in an advertising campaign, each resembles a specific choice made by someone (or many someones) to promote a certain look. With clothing, sometimes we only focus on how we perceive ourselves; with marketing, a firm creates something for an entire, often very specific audience. 

As a proofreader and editor, I have the privilege of fine-tuning what my colleagues have successfully created, going over not just grammar and copy but also graphics and style so the vision--the desired perception--matches what the client wants. It's both exciting and daunting, as I often have the final say before it goes out into the world. So whether it's my own shoes or a new campaign for the Bills, I get to have a tiny bit of control over how others see that. And that's pretty amazing to me.

Bringing Up Bebe-- my thoughts

Just finished the book Bringing Up Bebe on the recommendation of Scarlet Lily, and I must say, I found it pretty eye-opening. It's not that I think One Best Way exists to raise a child; it seems foolhardy to think that way. However, I do agree that we as Americans have adopted a rather stifling way of over-parenting, being there at every turn, cushioning every surface, holding the kid's hand literally and figuratively for way, way too long. As a former teacher I saw it all the time, and I hear more and more stories of parents calling up college professors and job interviewers demanding to know why certain decisions were made and defending their children's actions. As new parents, we know we make mistakes, but we try to present a united front and not get too caught up in developmental milestones and what J "should be" doing, although, as I wrote before, we're a bit concerned about the lack of speech at his age. But we're getting him checked out and we'll see where that goes, so we feel much more even-keeled.

This book made me focus more on a few points, particularly the idea of having a few hard-and-fast, core rules but freedom within those rules. I also like the idea of using a very firm tone of voice instead of yelling--if you say something with conviction and zero doubt, the kid will learn that you mean business. She points out that in France, the magic words include "hello" and "good-bye", not simply "thank you" and "please", because simply saying that to a person acknowledges that person's humanity. I truly like the idea of that, that we recognize each other no matter whether it's the waitress at the greasy spoon or an adult walking into the room for the first time. Those small gestures go a long way.

Most interesting for me was the chapter on food and eating. According to Druckerman, the French encourage their babies to eat vegetables first instead of bland rice cereal, and they keep feeding those veggies and mix them up with other food. I took from it that children are encouraged to develop their palates with fresh and varied food. Feed the child what you eat, as long as it's applicable. If a kid won't eat a vegetable, try it again later in a different form or add it to something else. Eventually, he'll learn to like it (or at least eat it). I've tried to start this even before I read the book; I realized I had begun to take on the role of short-order cook for J and, while I do give him the Kosher all-beef hot dogs, they're still hot dogs. That's part of what T and I want to accomplish with this Transitions eating plan--we want to create a house where J gets good, unprocessed food as often as possible with not a ton of sweets; eat the latter at a party or a special occasion. Sure, he's going to get his fair share of junk, but not at our house and not with us whenever possible. I don't know if I'll start turning out four-course meals that the French regularly do, but hey, if the first course is vegetables that I give him while I prep the rest, and then some fruit or cheese for dessert, doesn't that sound reasonable? It does to me (as does the idea of an afternoon snack of crusty bread with good, dark chocolate).

I think I enjoyed this book because it put a lot of my nebulous ideas of parenting in a form that made sense to me. None of us is perfect as a parent, nor is any system. And, really, as long as we stay consistent, let J explore and fall sometimes (in the literal and metaphorical sense), give him lots of love and reasonable boundaries, and don't overburden him with activities or expectations, I think we'll all turn out fine.

The writing on the wall (or the paper)

I wrote about this to dear Yum, so I apologize for her having to read this twice. As I made a grocery list the other day, I had the funny thought pop into my head that I like the look of my handwriting. I like how I make my As and that my Ss have a slight upward line with the S at the end of a word, making that cursive loop. I thought about how handwriting marks a person almost as intimately as a fingerprint--one person's handwriting may look like another's, but it's individual to that person. Heck, people study handwriting to see others' tendencies and personality traits. Do your letters slant forward or backward? Do your Gs and Ys go straight down, or do they loop? Is the loop closed or open? Do you write in cursive, print, or a mixture of the two? How close together do you make your letters? You know what I mean. I had a third grade teacher who had the most perfect, round, exact hand-writing--Mrs. McGennis. T and I both had her as a teacher, and we attended her retirement party a few years ago. Within a week, a letter arrived in the mail; I didn't even have to look at the return address. She'd written us, thanking us for coming. We kept the letter, partially because of the sweet gesture, and partly because of that handwriting. Anyone who ever had her in 37 years of teaching would know it.

This is also why so many different fonts exist to try--we try to maintain that individuality somehow, hoping that we don't all have to conform to Times New Roman, Arial, or Verdana. Has anyone noticed the handwriting fonts out there, too? They have lots of cursive and ones that sort of look like similar, but it's still someone else's version of what's mine. And they don't always work with every site and every person, so the attempt at creativity in writing sometimes gets roadblocked, and we're forced to use what's available. I also wonder what will happen to our fine motor skills if we start typing everything. This veers dangerously into my rant on how we have too many screens in our lives--TV, laptop, smartphone, Kindle--but I just want to make sure that J learns how to write his name and wield a pen to make his mark, as it were. It goes to nostalgia, too--100 years from now, will my grandkids look at my e-mails? My blog posts? My writing says a lot about who I am and how I think, but I don't see it the same way as looking at actual writing--it seems far more personal. It just urges me to keep using that muscle at the bottom of my right index finger, nestled up next to my thumb joint. Keep my individuality a bit as the typeface tries to pigeonhole me.

P.S. Don't think I don't appreciate the irony that I typed this whole post. ;-) However, in its original form, I did hand-write it, so there.

Say what?

Just recently while watching a commercial on TV, I thought to myself, How cheesy that is!, and immediately followed with, How on earth would I explain "cheesy" to a non-native English speaker? It doesn't translate directly. I can't tell the person it's akin to "sappy", because then I'd have to explain that. Besides, "cheesy" doesn't really equate with "sappy". They're more like distant cousins. Let's see...when something makes you roll your eyes when it tries to be too sweet and heart-warming. How's that? Feel free to help me come up with something better.

Language is such a powerful tool...this is why, when I taught, I urged my students to use as many different words as they could in their writing. They (we) too often limit themselves to the handful they hear all the time. This is why English teachers have handouts such as "50 Alternatives to 'A lot'". That phrase gets overused by students a lot. Too often. Many times. To the point of absurdity. Tons. Quite a bit.

As I teach J to speak, I have to repeat myself to get him to say basics, of course. I repeat the words "hi", "Dada", and "Mama" myriad times (a lot). "Penny" also gets a lot of play. As he begins to listen, learn, and parrot, I want to remain conscious of words and phrases I use around him. What will he pick up? What will he pick up that I don't want him to? What do T and I repeat without even realizing it? It all just makes me think about language and why I love it and all its levels and nuances.

Life lessons

Yesterday, we were at my father-in-law's for dinner and as he and T talked about a difficult day T had had at work, he said something rather insightful and brilliant:  It was something to the effect that worrying has no point to it; rather, it should serve as a reminder that you need to do something about it.  Not only that, it should remind you that you've dealt with things before and handled them.  It really struck both T and me. 

I thought about it last night as I prepared for my interview today--the fifth (really, the sixth--I had one two years before I got the job) for my same position in the same school as a long-term sub yet again.  In previous years, I've fretted and over-prepared and gotten flustered.  I've always managed to get the job, but I always worried.  This year, I went into it knowing damn well that I'm a good teacher and that I've proved that repeatedly over the past four years I've been there.  A part of me walked in figuring, if they don't know that by now, I simply don't know what else I can do to show it because I've done so every day.  (Another part of me totally wanted to have a Morgan Freeman in The Shawshank Redemption moment and tell them all of that plus say, "Do what you want; I don't give a shit."  I didn't, but I felt rather tempted....)

So I went in, I answered their questions to the best of my ability, and when the principal asked me why I should be chosen for one of the three spots, I looked him straight in the eye and told him "Because I've earned it," and I went through the reasons why I believed that.  I didn't mince words and I didn't pander.  This time, I didn't worry about it so damned much; I did something about it instead.

I've got a baby on the way, imminently.  With the job tenuousness, I have been concerned about the fact that if he's late, my health insurance runs out at the end of the month.  So I could panic...or make sure I'm induced by a certain date.  I can do something about it instead of worrying about it.  It kind of links up with another gem I heard lately:  It takes more effort to procrastinate than to actually get the thing done. 

I hope this is something you can take and use for yourselves--and remind me about doing instead of worrying when I forget myself.  I know I am capable because, without bragging, I've proved it over and over again.  So have you.  Think about it.

Play Nice

I've been reading a few of my usual blogs lately and have stumbled upon the mommyblog difficulties that have arisen between a blogger called Chicken Liver and various other bloggers. I realize that I've seen some of her negative comments on blogs before and I always vaguely wondered why she would bother. I now understand she had an entire blog devoted to bashing certain women whom she felt were abusing their power as writers, neglecting their children or families in some way, etc. While I recognize that in this country, everyone has a right to her (or his) own opinion, in reading some of her prior posts, I personally found them to be vitriolic and hateful on an unnecessary level. She verbally attacked these people's children, posted home addresses, and wrote commentary on a level I find unnecessary--and growing.

I just don't understand it. While anyone who posts writing on the Internet has the right to express her feelings because it's all opinion and personal experience, and that person may well have detractors who vehemently disagree with said opinion and personal experience, why make a point of spending time and energy writing down mean comments about other people whom you don't know? I also see this constantly in reading comments on news articles. People are so quick to judge without knowing a whole situation, so quick to put their two cents in in a negative way, writing about how someone is stupid or wrong or racist or Socialist or what-have-you.

Why do it? Perhaps I'm naive, but when did we become so mean? What purpose does it serve?

I think this has come to mind as well because we've had more fights in my school than in times past, and I asked the kids why they thought this was happening. I got a whole host of answers ranging from "they're just being stupid; the fights are pointless" to "he was defending his cousin because someone said bad stuff about her" to "because it stops that person from talking trash about you" to "because they're new and being picked on". (People still pick on the new kid? How cliche'. How lame.) As T said, "I have to respect you for you to be able to offend me." So why bother? When I pointed out T's position, they said, "Yeah, but if you walk away, then you're weak/wimping out". It doesn't surprise me, but it saddens me to hear that perspective.

I never got into fights when I was younger. I didn't see the point, and I stuck to people who were nice and liked me and whom I liked. My rationale is that if you're nice to people, it creates a ripple effect and everyone benefits from it. Finslippy posted about this recently in the vein that we need to recognize that when people act snarky, there may be a reason for it. Perhaps that person's having a bad day and chooses to take it out on the other guy. Perhaps she's just found out some terrible news. Or stayed up all night sick. Who knows? That's the question, isn't it?

I try--I really, really try--to not react too quickly when confronted with meanness or rude people, and I try not to snap at others when I'm in a bad mood myself. When a student snaps at me, it takes a lot for me not to have a knee-jerk response; I've tried to train myself to ask, "Are you ok today? Because the only reason I can think of that you would talk to me that way is that you're having a bad day." Admittedly, my tone of voice ranges from genuine concern to I'm giving you a chance to apologize for acting like a twerp, so be smart and shape up, kid. It tends to work. I've used it on non-students as well, usually taking the less confrontational tone. It still works pretty well. I'm not perfect; I've definitely snapped at folks, but I don't make it my M.O.

I guess what I'm trying to point out is that if we act nice to each other and treat each other kindly, it will continue, just as negativity breeds more of the same. So be kind and reap the benefits. You'll live longer. There's just no point living an angry, bitter, constantly-on-edge life.

Now I'm going to go hug the dog and give my husband a kiss.

Living space

I've had this idea brewing in my head for a while amid various conversations and posts from other bloggers. It's something I've meant to expound upon for myself as well as for the blogosphere, which I know has vast interest in my brewed ideas. I shall now pour. The official title is Why We Live Where We Live.

DH and I found a house in the 'burbs after we got married. A lot of it had to do with school systems: the Buffalo public schools have a lot to be desired, with about two notable exceptions, and we figured if we were paying the taxes, why not have them pay for a great education for our future kids? We also do love having a yard, a fire pit, and an upstairs. We have a plow guy. He rocks.

We bandied about the idea of finding a place in the city of Buffalo, particularly the Elmwood Village which has cool little stores and people walking (dogs, babies, selves) and restaurants and a crazy guy who wears a wetsuit in the summer and bars and a co-op and all sorts of nifty treats like that. We thought perhaps we could find something and our future child could go to one of the few really good public/charter schools here. A couple of snags cropped up:

• - Could we find someplace we could a) afford, b) want to live in for an extended period of time (or at all), and c) have some form of yard/measure of safety? I know you can't live in a bubble, but T honestly had more concern over that than I did. Hell, I'd worked in the Buffalo Public Schools.
  
• - What if our future child did not get into one of those schools? The good charter schools are all lottery and the two really good public schools are very difficult to get into. We are not made of money and can't really afford the steep tuition of private schools or even the smaller Catholic schools. Well, we could, but we could do little else.

I realize these concerns may make me sound elitist and miserly, but hey, it's how we felt. We both love so many aspects of city living, but we realized, particularly in terms of schools, what we wanted did not fall within city limits. So we jumped on the White Flight train, if you want to look at it that way (we don't), and we found a house in one of the suburbs. I think DH's final straw came the day before we moved when, walking back from the pizza place on the corner, some kid tried to jack his pizza. Did I mention my husband's 6'5"? He told the kid to take off (well, he didn't use the word "take") and announced how glad he was to be moving when he got back. More crime, more crazies bothering you at the gas station, less space, yes.

But we used to live in that Elmwood Village, where the block clubs actually worked and I could walk to my favorite coffee house. There were actual SIDEWALKS and people of different races. We do miss that, a lot. People out here all go out to Red Lobster and Olive Garden on Saturday nights and will wait for TWO HOURS for a table. Seriously. We've sworn never to do this. It's a little hard to meet people, partly because we've been here for a relatively short time and don't know the inner workings, and partly because as DINKs (double income, no kids), we make up a minority here, thus far. For some reason I feel as though people in my 'burb don't strike up conversations in the same way people on Elmwood do. I don't know if it's a mindset or my preconception.

I suppose it's a tradeoff, just like everything else. I try very hard to maintain my friendships with people who live in Buffalo itself, and T and I make a point of going in for the occasional restaurant or party. I love living where I do, and while it has its drawbacks, I want to make a life where I am while reminding myself that a whole culture thrives a scant 15-20 minutes away. And I want to learn more about the community I'm in.

Does any of this make any sense, or have I just ranted and rambled? It is Friday afternoon, after all, and I've had a very busy week in which, for some reason, I felt that if I heard one more plaintive "Mrs. Frau..." I would scream, "WHAT?!!?!?" in the poor kid's face. Fortunately I did not do this, but I'm ready for the weekend, is what I'm sayin'.

Oh, U.S. people, don't forget to turn your clocks back. We do lose that hour of sleep but the precious sunlight will make up for it, in my mind.

Have a good one, folks! I'm off to enjoy the 50 degree weather for as long as it lasts.

Ah, the holiday season

Tell me if this happens in your town: Yesterday while flipping stations on the radio, I discovered that they've already begun 24 hour Christmas music. Sigh. Bad enough that it used to happen the day after Thanksgiving; now it starts mid-November? What's next year, Daylight Savings??!! What is this madness??????

Don't get me wrong--I love the music. I do. But if I overdose on it for over a month before the actual holiday (I happen to celebrate Christmas), I begin to dread those beloved songs. Ouiser, how does M feel about this? I know it's his favorite holiday. Doesn't this whole "start early" bit seem a little pushy as well? I'm sorry to complain; it's just a pet peeve of mine. Snow has started to fly and I'm already mentally planning my Thanksgiving contributions (found a recipe for whole wheat corn muffins with a dash of cayenne--I may do a trial batch to see if they're worth it) and gift-giving, but I can't do Christmas music yet. I make myself wait until Dec. 1. The only exception may include the Peanuts Christmas because Vince Garabaldi rocks that album.

On the note of gift giving, in this time of economic crisis, do we really need to spend a ton of money on gifts? I've been reading in my magazines about how to give back or use that money to make a donation to a food bank. Or give the gift of your time, like offering to babysit or help someone clean her house if you're super organized. I can't see myself giving nothing, but honestly, I may give this year in the form of something edible for the most part. My sister has no cash but she gardens--I told her to get us some seeds. You know, give something really thoughtful that has more effort than consumerism involved in it. I admit, I look through the catalogues and dog-ear pages, but this year I want to try something different, or at least more thoughtful. I'll let you know how it turns out. Any thoughts?

Am I creating the future in this blogosphere?

I've read a bunch of educational articles recently, several having to do with how to assess reading in the digital age. Do we look at digital literacy as something different from reading literacy? As I understand it, digital literacy has to do with reading a lot of information quickly, often assessing it and interacting with others through sites that allow it. Thus people can look for a topic, say, "Olympics", and come up with all sorts of sites and information, and glean what they need. My problem with this (and others' problem as well) has to do with several facts:

1) People may not know the difference between legitimate, accredited sites and ones that have either incorrect or unsubstantiated information.

2) This sort of quick jumping around, while causing certain neurons in the brain to fire and react, certainly doesn't help with sustained attention. It may even hinder it, according to certain experts. [NB 1: I find it mildly ironic that I learned about this while reading it online in the NYTimes.]

As a teacher, when I write people, I really mean students because that's who this concerns. If, as I wrote before, a decent chunk of the working world increasingly requires its employees to be Internet-savvy, doesn't it also require them to have an attention span longer than ten minutes to complete a task? Doesn't it require them to sometimes analyze data properly and put that data together? Thus it's up to my profession to do that. What am I really trying to express here? I think it comes down to the fact that I believe today's youth need to practice activities that grab their attention for a sustained amount of time, and I believe teachers need to incorporate more Internet-based strategies in their teaching. How to do this? Not sure. My dad made a point on a previous entry that I'll put here, with his permission, that I think has a lot of merit as well:

While I usually agree with your take on things, and not just because I’m your father but because they are thoughtful, I have to disagree on one of your concerns. You say that when your students go out into the working world they will be dealing with IM, texting, blogs, Facebook, my space etc . No, actually they will not. Whether they are in a steel plant or an investment banking house or a law office, those things are by and large not part of the real work-a-day world; they are a huge part of their social fabric of the non working world of the generation that you teach. For that reason they are important, but they must know that the vast number of employers, except for a few newly rich 20 something entrepreneurs, do not use those things in how they do their jobs. The internet is the key to accessing facts which with thought may turn to knowledge but those other devices/tools are social facilitators.

He's right. The working world certainly is not all about social networking; it's about knowing a skill and sticking to it to get things done.

On a similar note, I discussed something with Scarlet Lily recently that has me concerned. Bear with me a moment as I ask: Have any of you seen or even heard of the movie Idiocracy? Not surprised if you haven't; it went pretty much straight to video and the parts I saw annoyed and alarmed me. It's not a quality flick. However, the basic premise comes from the stereotypical idea that uneducated people seem to have more children on the whole than educated folks do. Thus, over time, the educated population will die out, leaving the world filled with, shall we say, less-than-bright people. The idea of the movie is that this guy gets cryogenically frozen (always a recipe for an Oscar-winner) and wakes up 500 years later in a society so dumbed down that he's the most intelligent person on the planet. Wacky, zany hilarity ensues, of course. [NB 2: Do you agree with me that when a comedy is labeled as either "wacky" or "zany", it almost guarantees that it's terrible?]

While Idioocracy will never win any awards, part of it names a possibility that scares the heck out of me. Can that happen? I know intelligence is a dominant trait, but if procreation continues on this track, what exactly will happen in 500 years? Please feel free to tell me I'm an alarmist. I think I see tests and material being watered down because kids "just don't get it" and everything's too hard, and we have to make sure their little egos stay intact so we give every kid a trophy and bring down the bar so it's easier to reach. What good does that do anyone?

I don't mean to gripe, honestly. It's what makes me want to be a hardass teacher because when a student gets an A in my class, she knows she's earned it. I don't care if it means they don't like me--I watched it happen this year. I'm not as bad as my Ethics professor who notoriously said, "God gets an A, I get a B, and everyone else gets Cs and Ds" (Remember, Feather Nester? Good ol' Terrell), but I make them work. I praise them like crazy when they do well, so it all balances out.

What do you all think?

An Imperfect Offering

In church today, our minister referenced James Orbinski, head of Doctors Without Borders and winner, with that organization, of the 1999 Nobel Peace Prize. Orbinski also wrote a book called Imperfect Offering; the title comes from a line in the song "Anthem" by Leonard Cohen:

"Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything."

Orbinski took it to mean that, while he couldn't fix everything, the offering in itself was enough. If you do the most you can, it's all right if that "most" doesn't encompass everything. A friend's post reminded me of that and I want to offer this to her and to myself and to all of you. Remember that none of us are perfect and it's the cracks that make us who we are. This doesn't mean, "Oh, I made a halfhearted effort, so it's ok." It means for those of us who hold ourselves to impossible or unfair standards to let ourselves off the hook every once in a while, that what we offer to others and ourselves doesn't have to be perfect.

I just wanted to pass that along as each of you go through your week.

Poets, Theories, Book Challenges--the usual light stuff

Yesterday in my book group we were discussing the poem “Codicil” by Derek Walcott that had the line “To change your language you must change your life”, and it sparked this enormous discussion. What does that really mean? What do we mean by language? There’s the idea of code-switching, IE You don’t always speak to your friends the same way you speak to a superior at work or your grandmother or an interviewer. Does that make a person insincere, or does it mean she just knows her audience? This led to us mentioning Atticus Finch (OK, it was a room full of English teachers, bear in mind) and the fact that “he’s the same inside his house as he is on the public streets.” Does that mean he has more integrity and sincerity because he acts one way? What do all of you think?

This also led us to talk about actions versus intentions. Which follows the other, or do they come about simultaneously? When you make a change in your life, do you have the intention first and then commit the action, or the opposite? Some said that we really do the action first and then it becomes our intention. I mentioned it to DH, who pointed out that you have to have a certain amount of sincerity involved, meaning that people’s actions and their intentions do not always gel. You’ll have a person who says she meant one thing (intention) but in reality, she had another motive in mind when she acted. Does that make sense? Let me know if it doesn’t.

On another English-related note, a local Buffalo area high school has received press because a handful of parents have protested the use of the book Looking for Alaska in an 11^th grade class. The teacher sent home permission slips telling the parents about the fact that the book has some explicit language and a few sexually explicit scenes (very few; they’re certainly not the focus of the novel). 97% of the parents signed the form; the other 3% have gotten into an uproar, calling the book inappropriate and pornographic. Mind you, none of the objectors have read the novel. One of the most vocal women does not even have a student in the class.

I cannot stand this sort of hypocrisy. In my experience and in speaking to others, I have found that most parents who object to books read in school have not read them; they have only heard about them from others. They then take the moral high ground, making it difficult for teachers and students alike. If you to go the ALA (American Library Association) and look at the most commonly banned books, some will have you mind-boggled. Oh sure, Harry Potter I understand—although vehemently disagree with—because of the Satanic witchcraft it obviously supports and encourages kids to practice (sarcasm noted?), never mention the fact that Rowling got MILLIONS of people reading. But others, like the Anastasia Krupnik books by Lois Lowry, I cannot understand.

Everyone has the right to his or her opinion, but with regard to school texts, teachers, for the most part, take a great deal of care to expose (pun slightly intended) their students to a variety of texts, and some may actually imitate certain portions of real life. However, they also take great time and care to ensure the students read appropriate, insightful material. Bottom line, have your opinion but make sure it’s an informed opinion. Otherwise, you’re complaining without merit or anything substantial to back yourself up. OK, climbing down off the old soapbox now. I could’ve kept going but wanted to spare you all. :-)

And wasn't LOST bizarre? I love it.

Enjoy your weekend!