My new news crush

I know I'm pretty late to the game in my new-found devotion to Keith Olbermann. However, I mostly get my news from reading the Washington Post on my iphone in the mornings and checking news online. I just don't watch news on TV anymore . . . until now. Last week I started TiVoing Countdown on MSNBC after seeing the following two videos online. Keith Olbermann, you're my new crush :)

One of the best commentaries on Proposition 8 I've seen. Watch him almost tear up towards the end:





What many of us wanted to say in response to the "pro-American and anti-America" line of Michelle Bachman, Palin's "real Virginia" line, and other similar ignorant comments a few weeks ago:




Now I just want to doodle kArA-N-kEiTh 4EVA on my spiral notebook. New(s) crush!

You may say I'm a dreamer . . .

I woke up this morning and felt tears coming to my eyes. I cried all last night as I was watching the election returns. I cried during our next president's speech. I was crying tears as I feel asleep. Tears of hope, joy, optimistic, and most of all, pride in my country. As I opened my eyes, I turned my head away from my husband and dried my tears on the pillow. I wouldn't want him to think I was silly and emotional. I just need a minute to collect myself, I thought.

The weather report online said it was raining in DC but I stepped out on my balcony and it was not. A little gray and overcast, but a perfect temperature for a my morning walk with the dog along the Potomac to Starbucks. A good portent for the day ahead. While my route was was the same as always, everything looked a little different. The Kennedy Center, Roosevelt Island, the Georgetown Waterfront, the Key Bridge were all a bit more radiant, even under the cloudy sky. While these DC landmarks reminded me of the importance of where I was living, it was the people along my walk I noticed. The people that kept making tears well up in my eyes again and again.

As a was walking through the hallways of my condo building, I pass by a young El Salvadorian woman who is part of the cleaning crew. I wonder what she is thinking. Can she vote? Does she wish she could have? Does she feel proud to live in America today? What did she endure during the El Salvadorian civil war? What price did she pay to be able to live in this country and clean apartments? Does today make her feel like her sacrifices were worth it? She gives me a gigantic smile and says "hello." I do the same. The tears start to come back.

The Saudia Arabian embassy appears across my field of vision as I step onto the sidewalk. It's quiet and austere as always. I wonder if Muslim and Arab Americans feel a little more welcomed, a little more secure in their own country today? And how do people in the Middle East feel about the fact that the next American president's middle name is Hussein? Will that change anything at all for them?

I round a corner and see three city workers who are African American men in the distance. As they are about the start trimming the grass along Rock Creek Parkway, one of them shouts a big "good morning" to me. I give them a double thumbs up and say "what a GREAT morning!" They all get smiles on their faces, nod their heads, and offer affirmations back at me. I turned my head away and started quietly crying again.

I dry my tears in time to say hello to an elderly white women walking her dog whom I often cross paths with. She was still wearing her "I Voted" sticker from yesterday. She was smiling and happy, as she always is in the morning. I wondered whether she shares in the elation over the Obama win with so many of her fellow DC residents. Was she able to overcome the prejudices of her generation and vote for a man of color? And even if she didn't vote for him, was it purely because of policy differences and not because of the ethnic origin his father? I couldn't answer those questions but I imagined how a day like today would have been unimaginable when she was my age. I think how far we have come as a country and how far we have to go to overcome discrimination and racism. I hope some of the optimism of today affects her no matter what her opinions or prejudices. The tears start coming again as I walk away from her.

As I get close to my destination at the Georgetown Waterfront, I group of people get off a commuter bus. They are mostly young professionals all dressed the same in suits and collared shirts. They are black, white, latino, asian, and many other identities. Since this is DC, I assume many of them are politically active. However, I think of all the young Americans previously ambivalent about politics who voted for the first time ever yesterday. I think of a young generation finally energized to political awareness and action. I hope that momentum continues.

I enter my regular Starbucks and note, like I have many times in the past, that all the employees are African-American. A certain positive spirit affects the mood of the entire store. Patrons seems more awake than usual, chattier, friendlier. The woman whom I place my order with almost every morning forgets to give me enough change. I gently mention this, and add "we're all a little out of it today." She gives me a big smile and I smile back. I leave all my change as tip. Even the older barrista who looks perpetually tired and overworked, like life has worked him too hard is beaming today. Even he smiled at me when I verfied my Americano was decaf. And he never smiles. I wonder if he is now able to tell his children and grandchildren that they too can be president one day. I think of all he has endured and wonder if he ever thought he could honestly say that to his younger generations. I walk out of the coffee shop with the tears starting to return.

I notice all the Latino and African-American workers on the street, heading to their construction jobs in the condo buildings on my block. Do they see this country any differently today? Do they feel a small part of their burden has been lifted?

As I return home, I think of the elderly Indian gentleman with a Ph.D. who sometimes works behind the front desk at my building, who came to the U.S. on a scientific research fellowship decades ago but now hands white people their mail because it pays better. Does he feel like he wasted his education and his intelligent mind for all these years working a menial job? Does today make him feel like it worth it? Does he see an even brighter future for his family in an American that can elect a man of color as president?

As I sit down to sip my coffee and read the news online, I think about the someone close to me who said hurtful and prejudice things about Obama voters on the phone last night. Someone who I normally consider fair and open-minded. I know he, like some Americans today, is disappointed and frustrated over the way the vote turned out. I wonder if these people, too, can feel the optimism and exhilaration in the air today. I hope they can put aside their policy differences and their perceived personal economic self-interest to feel a small bit of what so many Americans feel today. The sense of community and connectedness, the weight of history being lifted, and enormous swelling of pride in our country. I wonder if they could see the faces I saw today and hear their stories if they would still be so hurt.

Today I feel for the first time that we are all truly Americans. A feeling of unity that has been elusive for so long that it is worth almost any price. The tears are coming back. I think they will be flowing for a while.

Running from hell

As a teenager in Topeka, KS, I personally witnessed the evolution of the Westboro Baptist Church from a loony primitive Baptist congregation to one of the most vicious hate groups in America. One of the Phelps cult escapee children, Nathan, is now living in Canada and recently did this interview with a local paper. It really doesn't tell us anything new about the Fred and his posse. it just verifies that they are a bunch of hate-filled filth-spewers and that Fred Sr. was a severe abuser who should be locked up in jail.

However, Nathan's story of his path away from religion and the torment he still deals with everyday is quite compelling. I hope he is able to find the peace that he so desperately deserves.

2008 - the year of the woman in politics . . . and mediocrity?

The Washington Post today has an interesting read - "Ideology Aside, This Has Been the Year of the Woman." It's basically about the positive impact that both Hillary and Palin have had on the role and perception of women in American politics. There's a discussion about Palin and feminism, with comments from liberal and conservative women activists as well as "regular" women about what feminism means in 2008. WHile I don't agree with everything it says, it's definitely worth a look.

However, I bring it up because the absolute best part of the article comes in the last paragraph.

. . . some GOP women, along with their Democratic counterparts, have openly questioned Palin's qualifications. [Conservative activist and lawyer Cleta] Mitchell has an answer to that. "Even if Sarah Palin is as 'unqualified' as the left would have us believe," she wrote recently in the Wall Street Journal, ". . . then former congresswoman Bella Abzug's lifelong goal has been achieved. She used to say that she was 'working for the day when a mediocre woman could get as far as a mediocre man.' "

Ha! I guess after decades of mediocre male politicians, Sarah Palin demonstrates that women can be just as inexperienced and average as men in politics. Classic. Go equality!

Lost Season 5 promo

I think I just piddled myself a little when I watched this. I too much of a geek. Now if they'd just explain that damned 4-toed statue!

Political models predicting Obama win and Congressional seat gains for Dems

This is one of the few times I'm actually going to say something positive about modeling in political science. I've talked in the past here and here about why I intensely dislike the hegemony of mathematical modeling and statistical methods in the discipline. However, I will allow myself to be completely hypocritical when I serves my own personal viewpoint.

The American Political Science Association recently came out with press releases claiming that the majority of Presidential election forecasting models are predicting an Obama win in the popular vote and that Democrats will make seat gains in both the House and Senate. If both these predictions actually come true I will eat my words on modeling in political science . . . well for just a few days :)

Armchair anthropologist - Seveteen Magazine then and now

I was at my fabulous hairdressers today getting a touch-up on my color (re: gray hairs were starting to poke through again) and I accidentally picked up a Seventeen magazine instead of The Economist. Imagine my shock when instead of the latest news on the global financial meltdown I saw pictures of Zac Ephron and a how-to- feature on French kissing!

Okay, okay, I admit it. I picked up Seventeen on purpose. As I was riffling through the stack of magazines next while waiting for my color to set, I came across Seveteen and was intrigued. I hadn't looked at a copy since . . . well . . . probably since I was 17 if not younger. Call it armchair cultural research. I was like an anthropologist re-entering a community she had lived in 15 years after she had left. And what I found was intriguing.

Many things wer exactly as I remembered them. Celebrity gossip, notes on hot fahsion trends, pictures of cute famous boys (even I can admit Zac Ephron is pretty dreamy), relentless hocking of overpriced beauty products. Even some of the clothes wer similar to what I was wearing (or more likely what I wished I was cool enough to wear) 20 years ago. There were two things I was not expecting, though.

First, was a noticable different in the "romance and dating" sections. Sure there was a section on kissing that could have been ripped from the pages of Seventeen in 1990 or even 1980. However, that was by far the most innocent article on this topic. What I found that would never have been there 15 years ago was a frankness and openness about sex. There was a discussion about the benefits and side-effects of going on the pill, with a heavy slant towards encouraging teenagers to go on it even if they are just thinking about having sex, along with Planned Parenthood's national 1-800 number (as well as a reminder that abstinence was the only 100% effective method). There were frequent references to having sex with boyfriends in the advice and "personal horror stories" sections. A story about getting over a break-up included tips that assumed some couples will have been sexually active. And there was a wonderful feature about a college-aged lesbian couple who had met in high school and recently were able to marry in California. I was quite surprised.

It's not that teenagers are having sex at such as higher rate now than they were when I am in high school. (I am not substantiating this empirically. It's just an educated assertion. Call me out if I'm wrong.) But in 1990 magazines geered towards teenaged girls (that are also read by tweens) were not that explicit in recognizing the sexual activeness of its readers. And you know what? I think this is a wonderful thing. It made me smile the whole time I was reading it. If all teenagers in this country were raised in a culture of openness, education, and self-awareness that I felt Seventeen magazine was promoting, then perhaps we would have lower rates of teen pregnancy and more sexually well-adjusted adults.

The second thing that surprised me was a full-paged ad promoting Seventeen magazine's Body Peace Treaty. A number of teen-world celebrities had signed it (Miley Cyrus, Fergie, Amanda Bynes, Ashlee Simpson, Carrie Underwood) aned the magazine was encouraging all of its readers to sign the plege for themselves. It would have been nice to see some fuller-figured celebrity names on it, but I did notice that a couple of the models in the fashion spreads were larger girls, so at lease they're trying. I looked up the Body Peace Treaty online so I could re-print it here. I think it's something worth mulling over for woman of all ages.

I vow to:

• Remember that the sun will still rise tomorrow even if I had one too many slices of pizza or an extra scoop of ice cream tonight.
• Never blame my body for the bad day I'm having.
• Stop joining in when my friends compare and trash their own bodies.
• Never allow a dirty look from someone else to influence how I feel about my appearance.
• Quit judging a person solely by how his or her body looks — even if it seems harmless — because I'd never want anyone to do that to me.
• Notice all the amazing things my body is doing for me every moment I walk, talk, think, breathe...
• Quiet that negative little voice in my head when it starts to say mean things about my body that I'd never tolerate anyone else saying about me.
• Remind myself that what you see isn't always what you get on TV and in ads — it takes a lot of airbrushing, dieting, money, and work to look like that.
• Remember that even the girl who I'd swap bodies with in a minute has something about her looks that she hates.
• Respect my body by feeding it well, working up a sweat when it needs it, and knowing when to give it a break.
• Realize that the mirror can reflect only what's on the surface of me, not who I am inside.
• Know that I'm already beautiful just the way I am.

You go Seventeen!