Picture this: you’re a single mother, unemployed, and reliant on food stamps to feed your family. You walk into your local “Bargain-Mart” and the so called bargains can only be spotted on the towering pyramid display of sugar covered “Cocoa Puffs”. Next to that display, the whole grain organic “Life Fiber” brand sits dusty on the shelf.
Archives for April 2012
The Wrecking Crew
Thom Hartmann, an adroit scholar, writer and speaker, conversant in a wide variety of fields is generally known for his nightly news and opinion program, “The Big Picture.” Hartmann has stated a number of times on his program, as well as in print, that the US Constitution never gave the Supreme Court the power to pass on the constitutionality of a congressional law.
Where the Sidewalk Endsby Shel Silverstein
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Grieving for the Green
On the morning of the first Earth Day a seven-year-old boy seached for salamanders in a creek. He didn’t know adults were launching a new holiday to encourage care for creation. His heart and mind were filled with amazement at the critters who lived under the damp mossy rocks. After lunch he climbed one of his favorite trees.
In memory of Earl Scruggs
Here’s a great video clip in memory of Earl Scruggs. Thank God for that laid-back lightening twang he gave to the world.
The death and return of Barnabas Collins
A little news tidbit conjured up early childhood memories of the gothic soap opera Mom forbade me to watch (because it scared me so much). I can still recall the goosebumps I felt when I heard that theme music, and I’d try to sneak a few fascinated glimpses before she would make me turn off the TV.
Trails over Arcadia Beach
Photo taken at Arcadia Beach and posted on our facebook page by the North Oregon Coast Anti-Chemtrail Alliance.
Surfing Pop Culture: Dick Clark Presents…
Dick Clark was my first boss in Hollywood and, still, I almost never met the man. Deep within the ivy-covered brick walls of his Burbank building, I would nervously peek into his office on my way to the copier. He was often obscured by paper, people streaming in and out, or his two giant dogs who sniffed me like they owned the place. But I never entered until the day I delivered a memo.
To a Mentor Lost…From a Child Found
Out of darkness and balloons, Jim Young stepped into my life. It was Intro to Theater, freshman year, and I had slid from harsh daylight into a darkened womb called Arena Theater, a black box theater at Wheaton College in Illinois. The balloons were tied to the floor, suspended mid-air, so that we had to walk through them like trees…
Calling all Nerds!
My whole life I’ve always loved what is considered the ‘impossible’ or ‘improbable’. I loved hearing stories about distant planets full of bustling alien life and epics depicting the long, heartfelt journey of hobbits on their way to destroy a magical ring. I loved watching David Bowie dance around in those super form-fitting tights in the Labyrinth while he sang about a child he may or may not have just kidnapped.