Pre-Ramble: I can’t decide who should be madder … the wife of soon-to-be-resigning South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford, his kids, the good people of the state of South Carolina, the Republican party, or Valerie Bauerlein and Alex Roth.

According to Valerie and Alex’s article in Wednesday’s (6/24) Wall Street Journal, Governor Sanford, a guy who has been mentioned as a possible Republican candidate in 2012, went AWOL last week, taking off in a nearby sport utility vehicle and turning off his mobile phone.  Apparently, the quirky governor regularly “ditched his bodyguards when taking a run or dashing out to Taco Bell or other favorite spots … ” (like Argentina?)

Initially, Sanford’s office refused to disclose his location, indicating only that he was, “hiking along the Appalachian Trail and was difficult to reach.”  Then, in a press conference late yesterday, a tearful Sanford revealed that “he had been in Argentina visiting a woman with whom he was having an extramarital affair.”

Ok, so – no wife wants to hear that her husband has been catting around with some gal in Argentina for the past eight years. The kids aren’t likely to be thrilled with that news either.  The people/tax payers of South Carolina deserve way better.  And, the Republican Party … well, they probably deserve whatever they are getting.  It’s Valerie and Alex that I feel most sorry for.

As the esteemed journalists that they undoubtedly are, the pair clearly spent many intensive hours diligently pursuing this story.  They researched the Appalachian Trail, posting a topographical map detailing the longest marked footpath in the U.S., noting elevations, and marking the point where a mobile tower last picked up Sanford’s phone signal.  

They inquired into the curious circumstances surrounding the governor’s absence, interviewing state officials, family friends and ordinary citizens. They considered the predicament of authorities who became uneasy when they hadn’t heard from the governor for several days and began marshalling an interim line of command should an urgent matter crop up.

Not to be able to get in touch with a person who is responsible for [the welfare of] 4.5 million people is a concern … the idea that for the day-to-day operations of our state, nobody knew who was in charge — that bothers people.” 

(Yep, that seems bothersome … )

Just imagine the myriad possible scenarios that a seasoned journalist would have to consider – Had untold stressors compelled the poor man to flee for solitude? … Had he become lost and disoriented while hiking in the wilderness? … Had he twisted an ankle and tumbled down the side of a cliff somewhere, clinging to a branch for dear life? … Had he been abducted and tied up in a cave, desperately waiting to be rescued?  Political detractors?  Folly gone wrong? 

Yes, yes, yes, and yes! Turns out, it’s all of the above!  There was definitely stress involved … it’s probably a lot harder than we think to deceive several million people (and ultimately, even harder to deceive oneself); … Lost and disoriented? … Check!  This man had clearly lost his way long before he turned the key on the get-away car; … Clinging for dear life? … Absolutely, but his ankle wasn’t the twisted body part that put his ass cliff-side; … Desperate? … You betcha!  Such is the plight of even the most repentant scumbag rat; … Folly? Oh, yes!  This ranks right up there with Elliot Spitzer, John Edwards, and Bill Clinton (sorry Bill, but it has pretty much been established that you did, in fact, have “sexual relations with that woman”). 

The Take-Away:  Don’t cry for us in Argentina, there Mark; the truth is …  well, the truth plays no role in this saga, particularly now that the “steamy” emails are out.  A fitting punishment for you, my friend, would be to make you fly back and forth between South Carolina and Argentina for eight more years pondering “moral legitimacy” while sitting in coach, eating trail mix, and watching Madonna in Evita. Some have even suggested that you be forced to actually hike all 2,178 miles of the Appalachian Trail … just to clear your head.

Post-Note from Daisy:  Even though you might try to rinse them off in the sprinkler, if you’ve got mud in your paws, it’s gonna come off on the rug.

Pre-Ramble: I thought writing a blog for my father for Father’s Day would be a breeze — my dad is a fairly straightforward guy: 

• He has been married to my mother for over 50 years
• He put on a suit everyday and went to work as a mechanical engineer
• He put himself through college
• He put me through college (!)
• He served in the Air Force
• In his youth he built a motorcycle from a bushel basket full of pieces
• He has an uncanny knack for knowing his way around any city
• Every year he planned our family vacations – fun trips like exploring the national parks, riding on a train across the country, and going to a dude ranch (before the word “dude” was even fashionable) 
• He would explain a math or science concept to me by patiently drawing it out on a three-by-five card in carefully rendered capital letters 
• My dad loves to read … particularly consumer guides … and to this day, he is a fountain of meaningful information on nearly any topic
• My dad loves sailing
• My dad is an Eagle Scout

No – he doesn’t wear a neckerchief around the house, and I don’t know that I’ve ever actually seen one of his badges, but the life ethic of that experience is apparent in everything he does, and it is in this regard that I had underestimated the complexity of accurately communicating the essence of my father.

I’ve always known that being an Eagle Scout involved stuff like camping, badges, canteens and “being prepared” … what I realize now is that it’s way more than that. As I have gotten older, the Eagle Scout designation has evolved from a general, flip descriptor of earnest, geeky, goody-goddyness into a significant standard of integrity and character. 

The tradition of scouting is designed to promote service and leadership skills in young people. What I realize now is that any kid who can negotiate the trials of youth and manage to fly under the radar of trendy, flashy, in-the-moment thrills, is light-years ahead of their less focused and industrious counterparts. 

The kids who have earned the designation of Eagle Scout have mastered and demonstrated the quiet competence and capacity for diligence, honestly, loyalty, curiosity, intelligence, and strong work ethic that builds depth and character — people with the kind of character that we need to keep our country and communities strong and prosperous.

The Take-Away: My brother and I can say without reservation that we have an exemplary father who, largely by example (and a few stacks of three-by-five cards), has prepared us with the tools and blueprint to a way of living that is filled with strong values, adventure and meaning.  As my daughters go out into the world, one of my hopes for them is that they are able to develop these qualities and find their inner Eagle Scout as well.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

Pre-Ramble: In commencement addresses all across the country, graduates received variations on great words of wisdom. Speakers ranging from heads of state to actors to business executives delivered messages of perseverance and triumph mixed with a humbling measure of cautionary hope.

This past Sunday’s New York Times (6/14/09, p. A18) offered snippets from some of these messages …

• President Obama told graduates at the University of Notre Dame that they were a generation who must “find a path back to prosperity…”
• At the University of Wisconsin, buzz-kill Major League Baseball commissioner, Bud Selig lamented that this was “the most difficult economic environment since the Great Depression…”
• Her Supreme Talk Show Goddess-ness, Oprah Winfrey regaled Duke University graduates with a run down on her accomplishments, accolades, multiple homes, and private jets, reminding them that unless they have been able to “help somebody else move forward, they haven’t completed the circle of success.”

I was particularly inspired by co-founder of Google, Larry Page’s remarks to students at the University of Michigan (a fine, fine institution; see shameless plug above right):

… I had one of those dreams when I was 23. When I suddenly woke up. I was thinking, What if we could download the whole Web and just keep the links? And I grabbed a pen and started writing. Sometimes it is important to wake up and stop dreaming. I spent the middle of that night scribbling out the details and convincing myself that it would work. Soon after, I told my advisor, Terry Winograd, it would take a couple of weeks to download the Web. He nodded knowingly, fully aware it would take much longer, but wise enough to not tell me. The optimism of youth is often underrated. Amazingly, I had no thought of building a search engine. The idea wasn’t even on the radar. But, much later, we happened upon a better way of ranking Web pages to make a really great search engine, and Google was born. When a really great dream shows up, grab it.

The Take-Away: Dah! What he said!  And this advice isn’t just for the newly minted graduate, it’s for we older vintages as well. Take up residence with that “optimism of youth” … Start dreaming and, “WHEN A REALLY GREAT DREAM SHOWS UP, GRAB IT!”

Post Note: Interestingly, if you google the word “dreams” the first entry is:

An Online Guide to Dream Interpretation, Mar. 6, 2009 … Dream moods is a free online dictionary source to help you interpret the meanings to your dreams. Check out our 4000+ word dream dictionary, … www.dreammoods.com/ – Cached – Similar … Dream Moods A-Z Dictionary, Common Dreams, Teeth Dreams, Naked Dreams, Chase Dreams, Dream info, Dream Bank, Flying Dreams … More results from dreammoods.com >> …

We have to assume that Larry was able to interpret his dream as, “You will be wildly, beyond-your-wildest-dreams, a bazillion times over, incredibly, stupid, crazy successful with this idea you just dreamed here!”

Pre-Ramble: I run on a lake path near my house, and the great thing about this venue is that the lake has some neat new surprise to offer every day. Sometimes it’s the sunlight sparkling off the surface of the water, or a big old fish jumping clear out of the lake to grab a bug, or ominous dark clouds in the distance, a harbinger of weather to come. Being in the presence of the lake is always calming and often inspiring.

So, I was out on a run (actually more of a shuffle) yesterday when I came upon one of those sights that literally stops you in your tracks and makes you say “Wow!” out loud, even though there’s no one there to hear it. Poufy white clouds were hanging against a clear blue sky — picturesque as all get out — and then, below, reflecting in the still glass surface of the lake, was an exact copy of the scene above.

We’ve all seen that, but something about the cartoon-esque shapes of the clouds and the quality of the light made me feel like I was caught in the middle of a painting. As is often the case, I wished I had had my camera to take a picture of this very cool effect and share it with family and friends.  

However, as I do not generally bring my camera along on runs, rather than revel in the visual delight that was before me, I spent a majority of the time trudging along grousing about not having my camera … and how long would it take me to run home and get the camera … ? … and would the effect be gone when I got back … ? … blah, blah …

Basically, I wrecked the whole vibe of the moment trying to capture it.

And even if I had had my camera, the fact that I would be messing around with taking a picture of the beautiful scene — am I getting the best angle on it? … is the lighting good? … is the shot in focus? … is the tip of my finger in the shot again? … etc. – would interfere with the beauty and meaning in the moment itself.

The Take-Away: Recording life’s milestones and meaningful moments is an important thing to do, however there is also something to be said for the value of the pure, fully-lived moment.  As we embark on the fun, carefree days of summer, try to find space to live in the moment and enjoy whatever is there for you – unencumbered by pressure to capture, record, scrapbook, tweet, … and ok …, blog about it.

Rejoice in the things that are present – all else is beyond thee.  — Montaigne

Pre-Ramble: One of my favorite friends is a jewelry designer. She has her own little business — if you can call that work. She gets to play with rare and sparkly gemstones all day. She has a brown leather briefcase that she carries around and it’s filled with all kinds of exquisite stuff.

Anyway, every year she goes to Las Vegas to a giant jewelry trade show… Christmas in May, really. Vendors from all over the world bring their jewels to trade and sell. This year she said that vendors were very conscious of the strained economic scenario, and had a much less stringent set of conditions around sales. She also said that this year, everywhere she turned, people were selling estate jewelry (code for used jewelry, often from people who are deceased) — specifically tiaras.

Tiaras?

Suffice it to say that, up until that point, the notion of owning a tiara, possibly more than one, was completely foreign to me. Beyond princesses, beauty queens, brides and four-year-olds, who actually wears tiaras? (And, I am rather stunned that I was able to come up with four categories of people just then, who would look totally normal in a tiara.)

According to renowned jewelry authority, Diana Scarisbrick,

“The tiara is the hallmark of grace and distinction worn for centuries by nobility and high society and favored by movie stars and modern brides.” 

Ms. Scarisbrick has written a book that “traces the history and social context of tiaras, as well as the fascinating succession of owners of some especially remarkable [pieces] … showcasing an astonishing range of styles, shapes and configurations … and celebrating the artistry, glamour and romantic mystique of these exquisite objects.”

(Of course, if you google “tiara” you can also find a link to, “Tiara Town … your one-stop tiara paradise.”) It is also interesting to note that superheroine, Wonder Woman is often depicted wearing a tiara, and hers can be “used as a weapon.”

Ok – so let’s say I take the kid’s college fund to Vegas and splurge on my very own tiara. And, since I’m basically a thrifty type, let’s say it’s a used pre-owned vintage tiara.  How much am I spending on this thing?  What is the resale on a gently used tiara? I guess it depends on what kind of materials it is made of, the quality and condition of the stones, and whether or not it was formerly owned by somebody really cool, like Audrey Hepburn, The Queen Mother, or Dame Edna.

So, let’s say I get the tiara, and, like my first pair of red patent-leather shoes, I insist on wearing it home. Nobody notices in Vegas, it turns a few heads on the plane, and by the time the wheels hit the tarmac in the Twin Cities I feel like a complete freak. The tiara is probably not going to fly in Minnesota, home of the warm hot dish and sensible shoes — a blingy headband, maybe, but not a tiny bedazzled crown.

Think about it… Where am I wearing the tiara besides in my office? … Walking the dog? … Grocery shopping? … On the golf course? … To book club? … “Oh Kathie, is that a new tiara? … “  … I suppose it would work on New Year’s Eve or Halloween, or the next time I go to a coronation. If you know me, you know that I am generally pretty conservative when it comes to fashion. Can a tiara be worn with a turtleneck?

The Take-Away:  A quick consult with Nina Garcia’s “Little Black Book of Fashion” confirms my assumption that the tiara is not quite mainstream. However, while she makes no mention of the bejeweled headpiece specifically, there are plenty of guidelines around fashionable presentation. I think I have found a suitable tiara loophole on page 142, where Nina sums it all up by saying:

I have spent a good many seasons watching fashion trends come and go, style myths created and dismantled, hemlines rise and fall. The one solid piece of advice I have to offer is: don’t take it all too seriously… because, in the end you are the only judge that really matters. … Style is a matter of finding out who you are and who you want to be in the world. I hope you choose to be fabulous, daring, fun, inspired, and yourself.”

Clearly, what she means here is, “Go ahead — wear the tiara!”

Pre-Ramble: Lots of flapping and preening in the nest today as the Chiplets pull downy fuzz out of their coat by the beak-full to make way for the more streamlined, aerodynamic feathers below. Little did I know, as I watched the activity, that these fledgling feathered wings would be soon called to action.

So, earlier in the week, I had witnessed Mother Chipping Sparrow swoop onto the scene with a fresh, plump, bright green caterpillar dangling from her beak. From what I could see from my viewing bunker, she had chopped it up and distributed it evenly among the clamoring kids. Smart bird. We moms have all had to contend with the sibling rivalry ruckus that comes from the inevitable inequity of food portions … “No fair! Her piece of caterpillar is bigger than mine … ” blah, blah …

Since then, I have come across these bright green caterpillars everywhere…  I’m walking the dog — there’s a caterpillar… I’m on a run – there’s a caterpillar… I’m out in the garden — there’s a caterpillar. And, rather than pass up a perfectly good caterpillar, I’ve been coaxing them onto sticks and dragging them up onto the porch. (I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention this to anyone; the fact that I’ve set up orange traffic cones across the nesting zone to minimize disruption has generated more than enough snickering among my heartless, unsentimental family and friends.) 

I thought about delivering the caterpillar hot dish directly into the little outstretched beaks, but then thought the better of it. Would I want a complete stranger walking up to the crib and shoving food into my baby’s mouth? Something they had picked up off the street, no less? And what is the shelf life on these insects? I’d hate to be giving the Chiplets an expired caterpillar. So, I’d carefully lay the bugs-on-a-stick on the porch near the nest and slink away. They were always gone the next time I looked out there.

We knew it was going to happen.  Just after the above photo was taken (if you look closely, you can make out three little bird faces … one is looking right at you). (And, yes, there were four eggs in the nest … I don’t know what happened to the fourth bird, and I don’t want to talk about it.) As I made my way back inside, a frenzy of chirping broke out, and before I could turn to see what the commotion was all about, the nest was empty.

That’s the way it’s supposed to be. We’ve known since day one, that sooner or later the little birds were going to be ready to take that leap of faith, or predestination, or whatever it is that makes a creature fling itself beak-first into the future. Any other outcome would have been sad, tragic even. So, why is there still such an empty place where the energy around the nest used to be?

I’m sure the fact that our oldest child has gone to college and the youngest one is poised on the edge of our proverbial nest has something to do with it. It somehow doesn’t seem fair that in raising a child, the outcome that you hope for, that you work a significant part of your life for, exposes you to a deeply complex range of emotions, each of which resonates with a twang somewhere in your heart. It’s like suffering a loss and receiving a great gift all at once.

The Take-Away: Enjoy the moment and take things as they come. Just when you think things are the way they are, new things happen — bird nests pop up in bushes, kids move on to the next exciting phase of their lives, a twist of circumstances presents opportunities to try new things in the world. Seems like our best bet is to experience the things that come our way to the fullest extent of our interest, and be ready to move into whatever comes next. 

Sure, the Chiplets are gone. It’ll be an adjustment… (…what will I do with all that extra time?)  The good news is we can use the front door again, and I can finally sweep up all those dead pine needles and restock the Christmas planters. My hope is that the young birds will learn to find the bright green caterpillars on their own, perfect their flying skills, and send me a Tweet once in a while.

Pre-Ramble:  Hi, it’s me, Daisy – I’ll be your esteemed guest-blogger for today.  Actually, Mom begged me to write the blog because she was all in a panic since it was Monday morning and the blog muse hadn’t kicked in yet. I could tell by the way she was whining and clawing at the refrigerator that things were going to be coming my way. (She always sticks me with the blog when she doesn’t know what to write about.)

To make matters worse, she had just read an article in the New York Times Sunday Magazine (”Say What?” by Rob Walker, 5/31/09, p. 30) about the plethora of opportunities and technological tools available to the individual for expressing themselves to a World-Wide-audience.  The article also eluded to the associated expectation that bloggers will not only have something to say, but that it will be interesting, entertaining and meaningful, and that fresh insights will be shared with alarming frequency. 

… blogs have evolved from something to be updated on occasion to being updated daily, then many times a day, and now social media invites updates hourly, or constantly.” 

No pressure there.

Apparently, a site called “plinky.com” (sounds like a good name for those useless accessory-dogs that fit in purses) generates a daily blog-worthy inquiry; something to spur pithy thoughts, like, “What top five songs should you take on a road trip?” … “Which movie characters would you befriend in real life?” … “Who would win a fight between a bear and a shark?” … or, “What’s the most useless thing in your house right now?”  While those topics are very nice … none of them really speaks to me or the doggie demographic. What about, “List your top 5 puppy names” … “How to win friends and solicit table scraps?” … “Which movie characters would you bite in real life?” … or, “How many ways are there to actually skin a cat?”

The great thing about being a dog is that there is no imperative to be witty. In fact, speaking of speaking, unless someone issues the “Speak!” command, or errant wildlife violates the perimeter, a dog can pretty much keep quiet.  And, while you may be called upon to fetch something or perform an occasional trick, these feats are usually basic and nonverbal. Instead of feeling compelled to yammer on and on on our Facebook page all day, we dogs are inclined – and expected – to sleep. If there’s a sunny patch of carpet and I’m not lying in it, people think there’s something wrong with me.

The Take-Away: Bloggers everywhere should just take a load off. If there’s something compelling to say — say it.  If not — go roll around in the backyard. 

Post Note: Mom wanted me to report out on the bird nest … she wanted me to mention that the Chiplets are getting bigger and featherier, and that the nest was getting really crowded.  Give me a packet of dipping sauce and I can take care of that in 20 seconds.