Saying No

A government study has proven what moms have known for decades. Kids ask for the junk food (and everything else) that’s advertised on the television shows they watch.

This is nothing new. I grew up watching commercials for sugar cereals and candy. Trix are for kids! Sugar Pops are Tops! Cuckoo for Coco Puffs! I asked for all of those, but my mother never bought it for me.

There are calls by consumer advocate groups to limit the amount of food advertising aimed at children. It’s contributing to childhood obesity and causing health problems. We need to crack down on the Evil Junk Food Empire.

I disagree. I have seen those commercials and they are an assault to the senses. They definitely scream “You gotta have this stuff.” But in our house, I’m the one who buys the food and that stuff doesn’t get bought. Last I heard, mothers still had control over what foods their children eat. Unless you live within walking distance of a store (and most of us don’t these days) your kid can’t buy candy unless you’ve taken them someplace where it’s sold.

I believe that saying no to candy and sugar cereal at the grocery store is good practice. You have to learn how to stand up to your kid and you have to start early. With the Junk Food Empire’s powerful influence, you’ll get plenty of practice. My daughter asks for a candy bar or gum every time we get to the checkout line. I’ve always said no, but it doesn’t stop her from asking.

My feeling is that if you cave in on Count Chocula, how are you going to handle it when your kid asks to go to a co-ed slumber party given by the “cool mom” or asks to go on a group trip to Ft. Lauderdale with somebody’s 19 year old sister as a chaperone?

Now it’s a different matter when schools offer fast food in the cafeterias and candy bars in vending machines. Soft drink companies and fast food restaurants can provide much needed funds for cash strapped school districts. A lot of the soft drink companies are voluntarily removing the sugar sodas and replacing them with fruit drinks and bottled water.

And our school district has made a commitment to promoting healthy eating in the schools. Recently, the deep fryers were removed from all the school kitchens.

Children will always want candy and will always want what they see on television. It’s not easy saying no, especially when they don’t give up. But that’s part of the job of being a mom.

My Bit For AIDS Awareness
It was World AIDS Day last week, and here I am just getting around to commenting on it. Always a day late and a dollar short.

It’s a day set aside to remember those who died of the disease as well as raise concern for the millions of people around the world who are living with it.

I know AIDS well. I watched it devour my friend Steve Tracy. He went from a handsome young man to a virtual invalid in the space of three years. He died of kidney failure in September of 1993.

Steve had the misfortune of being young, handsome and gay in the late 70s and early 80s, long before anyone knew there was such a thing as Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. Nobody in 1980 had any idea there was a new disease out there that could wipe out the body’s natural immunity and that it was passed on through sexual contact.

What I remember most is how Steve became like an old man–weak, sick, complaining. Worse yet, he had to deal with losing friends. He was always going to funerals and memorial services. And he was only 33 when he died.

In one of the supreme ironies of the universe, my daughter Alysoun was born on the second anniversary of his death. It’s always a bit strange for me, every September for the last ten years, I’m planning a birthday celebration for one very happy and excited little girl, all the while reminding myself that Steve’s family is preparing to mark another painful anniversary.

I miss my friend. We both had a passion for movies and I’m sure we saw hundreds of them together. We were both writers and malcontents, and thought ourselves far more clever than we actually were. Even now, I wish I could talk to him about the current political climate and the latest highly acclaimed film.

There are so many things I’d like to tell him. What it’s like to give birth. What it’s like to finally find the right guy and have a life together. What it’s like being a mom.

After he died, I pretended he wasn’t dead, he’d just moved to San Francisco. But he is dead along with millions of other men, women and children all over the world.

These days, there’s the perception that AIDS is not such a big deal any more. There’s no cure, but it’s manageable. There are drugs to take care of it. Kind of like diabetes.

Except taking the drugs means following a strict regime, requiring dozens of pills taken at exactly the right time. It’s not easy and it must be done for life. Miss a dose and the virus becomes resistant to the treatment. Then there are the side effects, which include nausea, gastric problems, liver toxicity, nerve damage, diabetes, high cholesterol levels and unusual accumulations of fat in the neck and abdomen. It’s not easy and it’s not pleasant.

There’s also the problem of new strains of the HIV virus which are resistant to the current drugs in use.

Seems like these days, AIDS is a problem in Africa, not in the US. But that’s not true. It’s still here and people are still getting it. There have been at least 39,000 new AIDS diagnoses each year since 1989.
Whether it’s because of youth’s belief in its own immortality, or the misconception that getting AIDS is not a problem, young people are actively participating in behaviors that can lead to HIV infection, such as having unprotected sex with multiple partners. And yet we’re so worried about sending the “wrong message” that we refuse to teach high school students about condom use.

I don’t want to talk about the merits of teaching abstinence over practicing safe sex. I just wish that people who are so intent on holding the moral high ground could understand what it’s like to lose a son, a daughter, a sister, a brother, a father or a mother to a disease that can be prevented.

The High Cost of Being Poor

It’s really expensive to be poor. I know it doesn’t make sense to demand more money from people who don’t have much to begin with, but that’s what happens. Every day, poor people are charged extra because they are poor.

Take cashing a check. With direct deposit, that’s something I rarely have to deal with, but when I do, I can go to our credit union and cash it there. For free.

Poor people have to go to those seedy “Check Cashed Here” places and pay a fee or a percentage of the check. If they want to pay a bill, they either pay in person using cash or they buy a money order which also requires a fee. With our checking account, all the checks are free.

If the poor need to borrow money, they don’t have the luxury of going to the bank and working out the best deal. They go to pawn shops or payday loan outfits. The interest is outrageous. A payday loan can cost $15 per $100 for two weeks. That comes out to an annual rate of 443.21%.

If they want to buy furniture or televisions or appliances, they aren’t eligible for the “twelve months, same as cash” option like the rest of us. They have to buy from the “Rent To Own” stores, where after a year of paying $35.00 a week for a $500 television, they end up paying enough to buy three more.

Even buying food is expensive. There are no supermarkets where they live, so they are forced to shop in high priced convenience stores.

Part of it is the neighborhood. Not many banks open branches on the poor side of town. The same goes for large grocery store chains. The old smaller grocery stores that were in within walking distance for these people have closed down to make way for larger, more centrally located stores.

I believe the poor deserve a break. I believe banks should make low cost checking and savings accounts available to the poor. Grocery chains should open up at least grocery stores in poor neighborhoods. And all those Rent To Own places should have disclaimers on their commercials saying how much the television will really cost.

And let’s stop charging people extra for not having any money.

Give Up My SUV?


Wouldn’t you just love to be able to walk to every place you wanted to go? Imagine having work, shops, schools, libraries all just a few short blocks away. We’d not only have the good life in this lovely new development, we’d cut down on pollution and traffic because we’ll hardly use our cars at all.

This type of development is called mixed use, in which business and residential activity all takes place in the same area. And it also describes my hometown of Batavia, Ohio when I was growing up there in the 1960s.

My father walked to work. My sisters and I walked to school. (And despite what I tell my daughter, school was only three blocks away on flat ground, not five miles and uphill both ways) Before Kroger’s built a new store on the edge of town in 1961, my mother walked into town to buy groceries. We also walked to the drug store, the hardware store, the dime store, the shoe repair store, and the appliance store.

There was no master plan that ordained this mixed use. Batavia was founded in 1814, nearly a century before the automobile came into wide use. It was built with a main street straight through the middle of town and houses on either side.

Although nearly everybody in town owned a car in the 1960s, it was still more convenient to shop in town as opposed to driving the two lane highway to Cincinnati 45 minutes away. Going to the city was a rare treat. You dressed up, shopped all day and had lunch at Hathaway’s in the Pogue’s arcade.

That all changed with the construction of I-275, the ring road which made the trip into Cincinnati faster and easier. Shopping malls went up around the exits, including the one called Eastgate, five miles outside of town. Over the years, people stopped going into town for things like appliances and hardware, preferring to drive out to the mall to shop at Sears. One by one, the family owned business closed their doors.

But Batavia is no ghost town. As the county seat, the county offices have grown along with the population. Lawyers and county offices occupy many of the buildings now. The business that remain are the ones that office workers can go to during lunch or after work, like restaurants and hair salons.

My point is that this type of development can’t be replicated. The town had just enough people to keep its modest businesses going. And for a long time, there was no place else to go. These days, a business needs more than just the people in the immediate area to survive. They have to attract people from other areas and that means a steady stream of cars and big parking lots.

Americans love the freedom of movement their automobiles bring, but they don’t want to live with the urban sprawl and traffic the automobile has engendered. So they build their houses in one place and their businesses in another place, miles away.

Mixed use developments may take off, but I doubt it. There just won’t be enough people in the residential part to sustain the business part. You have to have people coming in form elsewhere in the city and they will come in their cars. Short of bulldozing every housing development and starting over from scratch, there’s not a whole lot you can do change that fact.

Except maybe move to Batavia. Buy a house in town, get a job at the court house, have all your meals at the Snappy Tomato on Main Street (sorry, Kroger’s moved to Eastgate a few years back) and you could probably get rid of your car all together.

Wouldn’t it be nice?

Remember Those Septuplets In Iowa?

The McCaughey Septuplets turned eight years old this Saturday. The event was noted in the Des Moines Register, but I don't recall seeing anything about it on the network news shows. I suppose that's good. Back in November of 1997, it seemed like that was all you saw on the news, some poor reporter standing out in the snow in front of the hospital in Des Moines, giving updates on the septuplets' impending birth.

Oh, the good old days of 1997 when the big stories were about birth not death.

My daughter was two then and quite enough for me. On Thanksgiving night in 1997, she threw up all over herself and her crib and as we cleaned her up, I thought about how awful it would be to tend to seven sick children instead of just the one we had. Even worse, being sick myself with seven well children running wild.

But there's more to deal with than just the normal childhood problems times seven. Multiple births are inherently risky. The babies are always low birth rate and will likely have serious health issues, requiring them to stay in the hospital for months before then can go home. (Two of the McCaughey septuplets have a type of cerebral palsy).

There's a dirty little secret in the fertility trade called "selective reduction." When the Pergonol does its job too well and the childless woman now finds herself pregnant with five or six embryos, she does have the option of reducing them to a more manageable number, like two or three. Many do it, preferring two healthy babies to six medically fragile ones.

Of course a fair amount refuse, saying they don't want to play God. To which I have to ask "Weren't you fooling around in God's jurisdiction already?" Yes, those embryos are living creatures, but they are a medical aberration, brought about by artificially stimulated ovaries. God never intended for woman to have litters.

It would help if insurance companies covered fertility treatments. They could allow women another go-round with the Pergonal if they release too many eggs in one cycle. It's certainly cheaper than covering the costs of multiple births and the longterm treatment all those babies will need for the first year or two of their lives, if not longer.

Then again, I'd skip the fertilty treatments all together and adopt a baby from Guatemala.

What Happens To All Those Teen Aged Mothers?

This morning, while my daughter and I were waiting for the school bus, the conversation turned to what it was like in the hospital right after she was born. I told her about the New Mothers’ Class and how, at 39, I was easily the oldest mom there. Everyone else looked to be in their twenties, possibly early thirties. There was also a teenager, no older than 16, who looked bewildered by it all and more than a little scared by what was to come.

In the space of about 45 minutes, a nurse attempted to cover all the things we should expect from our newborns. She directed many of her comments to this girl, to reassure her in her new role.

Today, it occurred to me that the girl in the Newborn Class is now 26 and her son is ten years old, just like my daughter. This morning she probably got him up for school, made his lunch and kissed him good-bye, and sent him off to fifth grade.

When you think of teen-aged pregnancy, you think of teenagers with babies. You don’t think of what happens as the children and their moms grow up. And they do. I’ve always hoped this girl had the support of her family and community, that her son grew up in a safe and nurturing environment, that she managed to stay in school, maybe went on to college and got a good job to support herself and her son. And maybe she met a really nice guy along the way.

She’s no longer part of the Teen Aged Pregnancy problem. She’s all grown up with grown up problems. You could see her at Wal-Mart and not notice her. Just a mother and son out shopping.

I was part of the generation of teenaged girls who went against the mores of the day and decided to keep their babies. Up until then, when a girl got in trouble, the only way to keep her baby was to persuade her boyfriend to marry her. As you would expect, most of these marriages between sixteen and seventeen year olds didn’t last beyond the child’s first birthday, but at least the girls got to raise their own children. The alternative was to disappear to a home for unwed mothers, give the baby up for adoption and return home like nothing happened.

So is this working? There are thousands of grown men and women out there who were born to teenaged girls who decided to keep them. What sort of people did they become? Are they good citizens or hoodlums? Or some of both?

Perhaps the hardest thing to accept about having a baby is not all the earth shattering changes you have to deal with. It’s that discovery that they don’t stay babies. They turn into ten year olds and 17 year olds and finally adults with lives of their own. And it’s your job to see that they get there. I’m just hoping that 16 year old girl was up to the challenge.

Oh Joy! It's Sweeps Month Again!

“Child sex slaves in YOUR neighborhood. Help us stop this problem now! Next on Oprah.”

That’s what I heard when I turned on the television last Friday afternoon.

Now I have no way of knowing this, but I’m reasonably sure there are no child sex slaves in my neighborhood. The biggest problem here is the guy next door who constantly burns leaves and trash.

I had to wonder why Oprah was tackling such a lurid subject. And then I remembered. It’s November. Sweeps Month. Lurid brings in viewers. Celebrities bring in viewers. And if you can combine lurid with celebrities, you hit the ratings jackpot.

Singer Ricky Martin was also on the child sex trafficking show. Since I didn’t watch, I’m not sure what qualifies a pop star to speak out on child sex trafficking, other than to say he’s against it. It’s a hell of a way to promote your new CD.

The lurid stories don’t stop there. Yesterday Oprah interviewed best selling author Terri MacMillan about the details of her nasty divorce. Did you know Terri MacMillan married a man 20 years younger than herself and he turned out to be gay????? And wouldn’t you know it, he was after her money! Shocking!

On an upcoming show, mega star Leonardo Di Caprio will be expounding on global warning. It’s kind of hard to get people all hot and bothered about global warning, but maybe Leonardo’s cute enough to do the trick, and hundreds of thousands of Oprah viewers will be writing to their representatives asking them to ratify the Kyota Accords.

Oprah is not the only one caught up in Sweeps Month fever. I’m sure Dateline will feature stories of murder, incest and celebrity scandals. CSI will show some incredibly creepy crime scenario (although I’m inclined to believe they can’t possibly top the show where the murder victim got off on wearing diapers and acting like a baby) And it wouldn’t be Sweeps Month without another "powerful" episode of ER.

Hey, it beats re-runs.

And by the way, like Ricky Martin, I too am against child sex-trafficking. If you really would like to let your representative know that you are as well, click here.

But He's Staying On Message

Second terms are always a bitch, aren’t they?

Ronald Reagan had his Iran-Contra Scandal. Bill Clinton had his impeachment hearings over the Monica Lewinsky scandal. Lyndon Johnson had the Viet Nam War go south on him.

So George Bush shouldn’t feel so down about his latest poll numbers.

Well maybe he should.

Remember back in 2000, he won (well, sort of) running on the platform of bringing honesty and integrity to the White House? He said he’d hold his administration to a higher ethical standard, "not just what the lawyers allow but what the public deserves.”

With the indictment of Dick Cheney’s right hand man I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby, George Bush is not looking as much like the stand-up guy he presented himself to be back in 2000 and the polls are showing it. In a recent ABC news poll, 58 percent of those polled said Bush was not honest or trustworthy, and only 40 percent saying he was.

He even lost ground on his perennial favorite, values. Again, 58 percent said he did not share their values, with only 40 percent saying he did.

The hallmark of the Bush administration has been its members' steadfast, tight lipped loyalty to the president. Now with the indictments in the investigation over the leaking of CIA operative Valerie Plame’s name to the press, it’s all falling apart. Bush is out there, staying on message just like he’s been taught, but let’s be honest here, he looks pathetic without the help of Vice President Dick Cheney and chief of staff Karl Rove, who are a bit distracted right now.

It’s been a bad year. His national tour to replace Social Security with individual retirement accounts did no more than rack up the miles on Air Force One. With the dismal performance of FEMA director Michael Brown followed by the nomination of his good friend and chief counsel Harriet Meirs to the Supreme Court, it became absolutely clear that the Bush administration ran on the principal of “You take care of me and I’ll take care of you.” Good old boy cronyism in its purest form.

And despite protestations to the contrary, the administration is now advocating torture. Sen. John McCain (R-AZ) has submitted an anti-torture provision to the senate, but Cheney wants an exemption for the CIA and has made the rounds drumming up support among Republicans, as well as suggesting that the White House would veto this bill.

Okay, this president has never once vetoed a spending bill, (remember those damn bridges in Alaska?), or any bill for that matter. So the first time he goes against the will of Congress is to allow people to be tortured. What a guy.

Now the president maintains it’s not torture, it’s self defense. In other words, it’s okay to torture bad people to keep them from doing bad things.

I've always had a hard time with this president. I've never been able to stomach the fact that the most powerful man in the free world was a worthless drunk until he turned 40 and found Jesus. What happens to the country if he loses Jesus and finds Jack Daniels? It’s been known to happen.

I just wish the Bush administration could have imploded at this time a year ago. Could have been a whole ‘nother ball game.

In One Woman's Lifetime

August 11, 1902. On that day, at the very beginning of the twentieth century, my grandmother, Marjorie Cook Sherman, was born.

She lived well past 47.3 years, the life expectancy for a female at that time, dying last month at the age of 103.

I try to imagine what it would be like to live that long–-what would it be like to wake up and look at a calendar that reads July, 2059? Or, to turn it around, realize that when my grandmother was the same age as me (49), it was the fall of 1951. The Korean war was not history, it was front page news.

When Marjorie Cook came into the world, there were 8,000 cars in the United States. Henry Ford had yet to open up his factory in Detroit. The US population was around 76 million with 45 states, and the world population was 1.65 billion. Theodore Roosevelt had been president for less than a year, taking over when William McKinley died of the bullet wounds inflicted by an assassin in Buffalo, NY. The average salary was $12.98 a week for 59 hours. Forty hour work weeks were a long ways off. The United States Treasury was not yet in debt, but had a positive balance of $46,000,000.

I’m sure the American population of 1902 would be aghast to find out that in the future the national debt would go into the trillions.

It boggles the mind just to think about all the innovations and events Marjorie saw in the course of her lifetime. Women voting, automobiles, movies with sound, World Wars I & II, the Cold War, air travel, television, automatic washing machines, dishwashers, men on the moon, personal computers, the fall of the Soviet Union, the world wide web.

Of course, like most centenarians, Marjorie never thought much about living past 100. She was busy with her life. Growing up in Snahomish WA, she went to teacher’s college and taught first grade. With a sense of adventure, she decided to take a teaching job in the US Territory of Hawaii, where she met a naval officer named Warren Sherman, who was the divorced father of three children.

With the death of Warren’s ex-wife, those three children came to live with the newly married couple. It must have been a challenge, suddenly finding yourself with two stepdaughters and a stepson, ages 9 to 15. My mother was the youngest, and Marjorie won her over with her butterscotch pudding.

Being a stepmother can be a losing proposition no matter how hard you try. It is the mark of a great character when your stepchildren speak highly of you. My mother and her siblings maintained a close relationship with Marjorie throughout her life. Though she never had any children, she was the best grandmother any kid could ask for.

Marjorie was also a breast cancer survivor–for 45 years. In 1960, her doctor found a lump in her breast and insisted she have a mastectomy right away. Proof that even in the 1960s, breast cancer did not have to be a death sentence.

It’s sad to think of a world without my grandmother in it, a woman who loved life and stayed positive and alert well into her last months. But 103 years is long enough for anyone, even Marjorie Cook Sherman. It’s time to rest, now.

BUT DOESN'T IT MELT BY THE TIME YOU GET IT HOME?

What is the deal with delivering ice to hurricane victims?

Last night the news networks showed footage of the long lines of people in South Florida, waiting not so patiently for bags of ice. They had been without electricity for two days and were desperate for it.

I can see the need for ice if you're on medication that requires refrigeration, but most of those people standing in line looked pretty healthy to me.

So what do they use all that ice for?

To keep food from spoiling? To cool their drinks? To rub on their foreheads because there's no air conditioning?

OK residents of South Florida. You live in an area prone to hurricanes. You need to be prepared. That means you understand the fact that you could be without electricity and water for a few days and you plan accordingly. You have enough non-perishable food on hand to last at least three days. It's not what you're used to, but you can live just fine on Spam, crackers and peanut butter sandwiches.

You can't say you don't have any warning. I live in North Carolina and I knew Wilma was heading your way at least three days before it hit. Plenty of time to get to a grocery store for food and water. And if you don't want to spend the money, before the hurricane hits, you fill up bottles with water and then you go fill up the bathtub.

Personally, I think all those FEMA ice trucks are a waste of money.

Warm water hydrates just as well as cold water. So what if you have to drink your Coca-Cola at room temperature? Deal with it.