Ms. Doolittle may have had issues with her diphthongs, but she knew a thing or two about life. And so, taking the above advice to heart, I have decided that the time has come for a complete website overhaul. I leave you with some of my favorite columns to date and hope you will join me for the upcoming launch of my fancy new web presence (whenever that may be).
We, the people
For most of my life, I believed that patriotism
was at best an American flag bumper sticker on a Suburban and at worst
a concept people like Oliver North wrap themselves in to defend
indefensible actions
But I have watched
President Bush dismantle our civil rights in the name of security and I
have attempted the perplexing math in which billions of dollars are
spent on the war each week though our troops have neither the equipment
they need on the battleground nor the services they deserve upon their
return. And I have come to realize that patriotism, at least as it
applies to the United States, means being willing to defend the
Constitution when those elected to do so seem more inclined to shred it.
After an early childhood of private schooling, I
entered public school in fifth grade at Bluford Elementary which,
coincidentally, was the single year Mark Moore taught what was then
called the AG, or academically gifted, program there.
While
I learned many facts and figures from Mr. Moore, the most important
lessons I learned were related to critical thinking, a skill that,
according to a recent survey, is in short supply.
When I drove up to First Presbyterian Church last week, I, for a
moment, wondered if a wedding was ending. By the side-door stood a
large group of sharply-dressed people in their 20s and early 30s; from
my brief view through my windshield, I imagined they were waiting to
cheer the newlyweds to their car. It was in that moment that I forgot
that the person whose funeral I was attending would draw that kind of a
crowd: his peer group.
On April 9, my husband and I took my younger
brother to his first roller derby (and our second): Debutant Brawlers
v. Trauma Queens, both of whom are part of the Carolina Rollergirls
league along with newly formed Tai Chi-Tahs.
We arrived with no concern for who won but were
soon given three reasons to root for the ultimately losing Trauma
Queens: crowd favorite Roxy Rocket, who cuts through the pack like a
phantom; Penelope Bruz, who won our vote for best dressed with her
leather miniskirt of a uniform; and rookie sensation Eris Discordia,
whose well-earned victory salute involved pulling up her very short
dress to wave her barely covered fanny at the skaters behind her.
Though cooking is one of my passions, cooking and I had a falling out
once the local produce grew skimpy this winter. My pans lay fallow in
their cabinet and my knives grew bored and dull. I would quickly use
the greens or sweet potatoes I bought at my weekly farmers’ market
visit, then aimlessly roam the aisles of the grocery store only to
return home with coffee and dog treats.
We’ve all had brushes with taboo; from the foods we eat (such as America’s
rejection of dog meat) to the relationships we condone (or condemn,
such as incest), taboo developed to store society’s important
information over the course of time and space.
Unfortunately, taboo has evolved beyond its usefulness as a tool by spreading its power to ideas.As a society, we have silently agreed to the falsehood that keeping certain taboo topics mum is for the good of the whole.
Barring travel or special event, my husband and I spend our Saturday lunches in Thomasville where my mother-in-law, Caroline, is in her sixth month of assisted living.The
path to moving her there began with pills left in every prescription
bottle at the end of every month and was wracked with guilt, doubt and
second-guessing.
Sarah Beth Jones is a freelance writer specializing in opinion writing, features articles and public relations copy. For more information, contact Sarah at heyyou@sarahbethjones.com.
