Unless you have lived under a rock for the past 10 plus years, are unable to use a radio or somehow managed to avoid being in a car after 7pm weekdays, then chances are you know of the radio personality Delilah. My memories of her raspy voice, the overly mushy callers pouring their hearts out and Delilah’s knack for choosing a song dedication to perfectly match her caller’s sappy story go way back to a time I frequently drove the I-95 corridor between New York and Virginia over a decade ago. Although her narratives cause excessive gagging and the chosen music can slip listeners dangerously into coma territory, the evening Delilah show is one thing a radio can consistently pick up regardless to what stretch of road you find yourself on from coast-to-coast. Delilah continues to reach my ears through the radio waves, encouraging her listeners to “love someone tonight,” whether life has me on I-95 in the Northeast, California’s Pacific Highway, or I-94 in Chicago. She has evolved from Chicken Soup for the Romantic’s soul into an overly moral, Dr. Phil meets Sally Jesse Raphael on saccharine laced crack irritating preacher, yet here I sit in a hotel room in San Antonio, Texas listening to her little program which causes me to ponder; how many things in life do we do not because we enjoy it, pays the bills or provides others any pleasure, but simply because it is familiar?
How does the Delilah evening radio program connect with the rich tapestry of traditions that binds us to the past? They are linked through the similar emotions they invoked; comfort, familiarity, warmth and stability, feelings so powerful they often cause us to do things we do not like or understand just to connect us with the past, strengthen our relationships, and feel secure in our chaotic world. Each time I hear of a person who dismisses traditions as “old-fashion,” outdated or stupid I cannot help but think how they miss the big picture; generations of people, alive and dead, connected through shared customs. These traditions might evolve as families grow, cultures merge and the world progresses, but at the heart they remain a keystone in the building block of our lives.
Ten years ago this month I obtained my first passport via super-expedited gotta get it right away overnight courier service after receiving word that my employer needed me to fly to Spain ASAP; spoiled by the ease and speed that comes with a $330 (company paid) price-tag for overnight passport needs. That initial trip abroad infected me with an incurable case of wanderlust and the Passport pages illustrate the extent of my travel bug; entry stamps from far away lands, dates of travel forever emblazoned in colorful ink, the folds and creases in the book- signs of wear and tear evidence of a passport well used. With the final chapter scheduled to close on my first little blue book I filled out the paperwork for renewal, simple and painless except for my inability to actually mail it to the passport agency; paralyzed by fear of being trapped, unable to travel at a moments notice.Which Famous Artist Are You? | |
 | You are part Ansel Adams. Your artistic tool of choice is the camera, but you've got lots of other skills as well. Spoiled when you were young, you grew up to be a loving person and you have a deep affinity for nature and all things black and white. |
 | You are part Andy Warhol. Your artistic talent became clear at an early age. As a result, you are still developing your talent now, chasing the dream. A big fan of commercial art, you see greatness in the ordinary. |
My morning routine is usually pretty standard; wake up, potty, brew coffee, take the dogs for a walk, come back, shower, get dressed, kiss husband, pour coffee in mug, give dogs their kongs and head out the door. Day in and day out this same process occurs like a perfectly choreographed waltz with little to no variation. Occasionally the dance changes slightly; it is too cold for a walk, there is no coffee in the house or if the dogs get rawhide rather then a kong. This morning a “perfect storm” of events drastically mixed up the schedule and led to a disturbing personal discovery; I could quit my job and begin a life of crime.
Rather then do anything drastic, I decided to take the dogs for another spin around the block and pray for electricity. 30 minutes later my attempt at garage access was once again denied. Assessing the situation, I had a few options; take the day off from work and find a neighbor to take me in, break a window, call a locksmith or break the door. My mind raced with images of breaking down the door Law and Order style, kicking it down with one well placed, magical kick. Luckily, I remembered the pain associated with breaking bones and decided to opt for a better solution. Weighing the pros and cons of my choices, factoring in cost and embarrassment considerations, I decided to try and break the doorknob off, knowing I had only locked the knob and not the deadbolt.
Using my shoe as a tool, I whacked at the doorknob several times until the outside handle broke free from the door. The door would not budge. Traipsing through the yard, I found some sticks to pop open the inside locking mechanism, getting into the house and causing minimal damage to anything more then the doorknob. I felt like MacGyver. The feeling of pride and triumph with this amazing display of self-sufficiency was immediately replaced by the overwhelming realization of just how easy it is to break into a house. While I’m happy that this incident is only going to result in the cost of a new doorknob, the price of discovering how vulnerable we are to the outside world is going to be much more expensive in the long run. From now on I will always remember to lock the deadbolt (and also remember my keys).
Although I made it well past the five years I agreed to live in Minneapolis, it is not because I fell completely head over heels about my new “home” location. Every area of the world has its own little issues that give residents reason to complain and keep the population under control. Imagine if Seattle had beautiful weather; the whole world would live there. Minnesota has many positive things going for it; however, the following list outlines the reasons why I will not retire Minnesota:
I'll be home for Christmas
Land Locked
Bill Nye the Science Guy could pick me up faster then the speed of light with these geeky pickup lines:| You Are Likely a First Born |
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What do you get when you combine a dozen or so talented people craving to use their creativity in an energy sapping office and a fun-loving co-worker on a week long honeymoon? You get the prime opportunity to pull off an over the top office prank that people will be talking about for years to come.
The Monday following Mark’s beautifully timed September 21st wedding (a fine day for a wedding anniversary!) his co-workers began recruiting members of the office to punk his cube. What began as an innocent office prank turned into an office-wide phenomenon as word of the project spread. Occupying the cube directly across from Mark gave me the unique opportunity to witness scores of people who came from far and wide to witness the construction project; commenting on the creativity, the attention to detail and the improved radio reception throughout the building. 
Each day the aluminum foil cube drew increased attention as it became brighter and emitted intense heat from the glare. Four days and over 1000 square feet of aluminum foil later, the masterpiece was complete and ready for Mark’s return to work.For additional pictures visit the full album of aluminum foil photos.
It is difficult to convey the type of bias and discrimination couples without children are victims of without sounding defensive or confrontational. Our social and political environment favors those families with children, leaving the openly childfree in a position of making a major political statement simply through their choice not to join the masses and procreate. Often the target of wrath and lecturing, childfree couples are forced to retreat or defend themselves when on the receiving end of hateful words and actions from relatives, friends and perfect strangers. Some people think they are being helpful, bestowing their wisdom on the matter. Most people do not stop and think what they are really saying and how it could be interpreted as degrading to the childfree recipient as well as the broader population. Gender, racial, sexuality and religious biases are often at the core of the message delivered to the childfree. For those who do not know what type of things people say or imagine why anyone would care about such a personal decision, the following list is a small example of things people have said to me about not having children:
