Synchronicity, You're Soaking In It

I love the artist's discussion of how her childhood spent in Nature influences her art.

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[H]ealing the broken bond between our young and nature—is in our self-interest, not only because aesthetics or justice demands it, but also because our mental, physical, and spiritual health depends upon it. The health of the [E]arth is at stake as well. How the young respond to nature, and how they raise their own children, will shape the configurations and conditions of our cities, homes—our daily lives.

~Richard Louv
More here.

Hat tip to Margaret Roach, in A Way to Garden.

Red in Tooth and Claw

Our society is teaching young people to avoid direct experience in nature. That lesson is delivered in schools, families, even organizations devoted to the outdoors, and codified into the legal and regulatory structures of many of our communities. Our institutions, urban/suburban design, and cultural attitudes unconsciously associate nature with doom -- while disassociating the outdoors from joy and solitude. Well-meaning public-school systems, media, and parents are effectively scaring children straight out of the woods and fields. . . . The postmodern notion that reality is only a construct -- that we are what we program -- suggests limitless human possibilities; but as the young spend less and less of their lives in natural surroundings, their senses narrow, physiologically and psychologically, and this reduces the richness of the human experience.

~Richard Louv in Last Child in the Woods.

Yes, indeed. There are deer ticks, and mosquitoes, and snakes outside. There are brambles, and high branches from which one can fall, and there are evil strangers who snatch children who are alone.

But those are not the only dangers. Being terrified of nature, never knowing the Earth, being scared indoors to the video games: these, also, are deep and desperate dangers for the children who will live during water wars and decreasing resources.

When I was a girl (and, oh, it was a million, million years ago! And, isn't this how all the stories of all old women start: When I Was A Girl? It's funny how the stories of girls never start: When I Am An Old Woman. Well, a few of mine may have. Ahem. Well, then, and so it is and so I am, but, my Dearest Darlings, a million years ago, when I was a girl,) one of my great joys was to walk, every Saturday afternoon, down to The Creek. It must have been two or three miles away from my home, and I mostly went all alone, down to the bridge, the bridge over the tiny run, the tiny run surrounded by swamp cabbage and ferns, the bridge that was covered with an arch of branches, a cathedral for me, and my first love nest (even then, I saw no contradiction, which shows that you can lead the girl to Catholicism, but, well), where I went to furiously neck with my first real boyfriend. Then, (both before, during, and after the boyfriend) down another long street, with less frequent houses and bigger, more wooded yards, past the Swiss Chalet house, and past the people who kept horses, and past the vague friends of my mother's who had three daughters and where I saw, glimpsing just the covers, some of the first feminist books I'd ever seen, and then, then, then, into the marshy woods. That entrance was always marked for me with a special sense of stepping into what I would now call Fairie: marsh plants growing ankle-high, muck, and the sort of deep shade that, even when your real, Earthly body is sweaty and hot from the late August sun, gives you a bit of a bone-deep chill and the realization that you've stepped into "Otherness." Through a bit of those marshy woods, where the Goddess knows why I never saw the obviously-lurking snakes, and then, finally: the sandy bank of The Creek (the boulder-strewn water, running ice cold and full of tiny fish, dragon flies, and slippery algae), and the Deep Deep Woods on the other side.

The oldest Catholic daughter in a family of baby after baby after baby, slipping away from my home was all that kept me sane. All week long, I did it through books, though my mother's most common refrain was: "Get your nose out of that book (hint to Mom: I don't read w/ my nose) and [set the table, fold the diapers, go watch your baby brother, peel the potatoes, scrub the pots, etc., etc.]" And, on the weekends, I did it by walking to The Creek. And, there, finally, I could be really alone. And, there, finally, I could just be absorbed in nature: watching a dragonfly dart for a quarter of an hour, hearing the way that water sounded as it ran over algae-covered rocks, smelling the damp sand along the bank, full of the scents of decaying plants, minerals, and last-night's dance of salamanders along the shore.

One time, only, I took my baby sister down to The Creek with me.

I imagine, because I want to blame her, that my mom was really stressed that day and that the price of my hour or two of freedom was to take my baby sister with me, although my baby sister was the one of my siblings that I did really love, so maybe the fairies made it so that I would have to bring her.

And we walked, her with her little, little girl steps and her trusting, sweating hand (cruelest memory of all!) in mine, all the way down our street, and over the bridge, and past the people who kept horses, and past the Swiss Chalet house, and past my mother's feminist friends, and into the marshy woods, and onto the bank of The Creek.

And, then, somehow, I lost her.

I've gone back -- awake, in dreams, journaling, in trance -- a million, million guilt-wracked times to try and remember how on Earth I could have done such a thing. But at some point, I was a bit further down The Creek bed than I normally went and I had lost my baby sister. Full of terror, I started back up The Creek, calling and sick with fear. What if she'd drowned in The Creek? What if she were hurt? I called and called and begged her to answer, but I was alone in a way that I'd never been alone before, alone in a terrifying silence, alone as if I'd stepped through time, stepped between the worlds, stepped where I hadn't meant to step. I kept calling and, eventually, the mocking calls of what I told myself then were "older children" began to answer me, pretending to be my baby sister.

And it was then that I may have grounded for the very first time, run my roots into the minerals that I knew so well, and demanded, myself a child, that what were surely the Fae stop making fun of me and help me find my baby sister. And, you know, they were ashamed, and they said they were sorry, and, suddenly, there she was, my baby sister, sitting happy where I'd left her on the sand, surrounded by swamp cabbage, dragon flies, boulders. I slumped in an ice cold sweat upon the sand, then grabbed her hand and walked, as fast as her baby legs would let us go, back home. And then I made myself forget and always went alone, by myself, to The Creek, from thence forth.

A few decades later, when she died in a freak car accident, when my father's stricken face turned to me and said, "She's dead," there was a tiny part of me that wasn't surprised, that realized that the time we'd had with her had been won fair and square, and by an unaware bravery, from the Fae, and that I'd always known that, some day, jealous, they'd come back for what they'd taken and then, unwillingly, surrendered in shame.

Decades later, when I was recovering from breast cancer and a test came back suggesting, strongly, that the cancer had spread to my liver, I awoke from a deep dream and realized: If I'm about to die, there's only one place that I need to see again: The Creek. And, so, I did not work that weekend, although I should have done. And I rented a car, city dweller that I'd become, and I drove to the end of the road lined by the Swiss Chalet house and the house of the people who kept horses and the vague friends of my mother's. And I came to the marshy woods. And I parked the car.

And I knew myself home. Home in the wild. Home where, pace R. Frost, they would have to take me in.

And, so, yes, I understand the modern movement to keep children safe indoors, to warn them of all the real (non-Fae!) dangers of the out-of-doors. But, if I had two daughters, I'd still let the older walk the younger to The Creek.

Who knows what my baby sister saw during those years and years that seemed to be 15 minutes? Who knows who was really making deals with the Fae? Who knows why she stayed (with us) so long? Who knows how much I still long to follow? Who knows why I've never told this story before?



Picture found here.

Such Affection

Here is this vast, savage, howling mother of ours,
Nature, lying all around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children,
as the leopard; and yet we are so early weaned
from her breast to society, to that culture which is exclusively an interaction of man on man.

~Henry David Thoreau, quoted in Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder by Richard Louv.

Picture found here.

Suburban Safari

The other week, when we were at his favorite nature center, G/Son & I saw a display about this book.

Who knew that an investigation into that patch of grass in the backyard could be so fruitful - and so funny?

More than 550 square miles of new lawns unfold each year in the U.S. alone. Although new research shows that these lawns aren't nearly as "unnatural" as ecologists once thought, no one has offered an accessible exploration of this novel habitat - until now.

Equipped with a lawn chair and her infectious curiosity, Hannah Holmes spends a year in her yard, hoping to discover exactly what's going on out there.

Bill McKibben said:

It's . . . a very important book--a graceful and forceful reminder that the natural world is everywhere all around us, to be savored and to be protected."
Bill McKibben, author of The End of Nature

Don't let the word "suburban" (which has become quite the red-headed-step-child of modern thinking) turn you off. The process of observation that Ms. Holmes describes is as valid for a bit of urban park, a stretch of weeds alongside the interstate, a container garden on an urban apartment balcony, as it is for a suburban lawn or a patch of rural meadowland. This would be a great book to read with bright middle school-age children. And it's a great book for parents and grandparents to read as they attempt to help their beloved children come into relationship with nature.

It really doesn't matter how incredibly urban your environment (your beloved child's environment) may be. NRDC recently sent out an email describing a wildlife refuge accessible by public transportation from New York City, a refuge from which the Empire State Building is clearly visible.

At the heart of this special place is a wildlife refuge, the only one of its kind in the national park system. But the true wonder of it is that it is in New York City, my hometown.

I am speaking of Jamaica Bay, which sits at the southern intersection of Brooklyn and Queens—so close to me I can get to it by public transit. My web design firm works with an NPS partner organization, the National Parks of New York Harbor Conservancy, so that is another point of connection for me.

Within Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge, you can hike wooded trails, kayak through wetlands and do world-class bird-watching. Some 330 bird species have been observed there—20% of North America's total. And you don't need to know a sandpiper from a tern to enjoy the spectacle.

Birds are not all. Jamaica Bay is home to 60 species of butterfly and 80 species of fish, as well as reptiles, amphibians and small mammals. Every spring diamondback terrapins crawl up on the beach to lay their eggs. The horseshoe crabs also come ashore to mate and dig nests, as I have witnessed myself on a guided walk with park rangers.

This sanctuary for humans and wildlife is like another world. And yet, from certain spots, the Empire State Building is clearly visible in the distance. The "A" train periodically rattles across a bridge (yes, that storied train of song) and planes from nearby JFK Airport rise overhead.

A half-an-hour on Google should yield several places you can access with your beloved child.

It is still unclear what the future holds for Jamaica Bay, but the prospects have begun to look brighter. From your vantage, wherever you reside, it may not seem to matter much. Jamaica Bay will never match the majesty of the great wild places that you dream of visiting one day. But Jamaica Bay is in a city where millions of people live—and can be visited any day. That, in a nutshell, is the beauty of it.

The term "Pagan" comes from the Latin word "paganus" which means "country dweller", or "rustic." But, today, most Pagans live in urban environments. We've got, I'm begging you, on my knees, we've got to get our kids in touch with nature, wherever they live. Especially, I think, when they live in the suburbs and the cities.

What will you do? When will you do it? Don't make the perfect the enemy of the good. What can you do this weekend? Will you do it? What else will you be doing that's more important?

Spiral Scouts can often help.

Picture found here.

Seriously. This Is One Of My Main Missions As A Nonna.

"As basic as reading, writing, and arithmetic." I'd argue: far more.

Also see, e.g., Gus.

It Just Fucking Hurts Me To Have To Agree With Bill Mahr

Things That Give Me Hope

There's an old Joan Baez song that begs:

Bring me a rose in the wintertime, when it's hard to find,
bring me a rose in the wintertime, I've got
roses on my mind.
A rose is sweet, most anytime and, yet,
bring me a rose in the wintertime and how easy we forget.

Bring me a smile when I'm far from home, when it's hard to find,
bring me a smile when I'm far from home, I've got
smiling on my mind.
A smile is sweet, most anytime and, yet,
bring me a smile when I'm far from home and how easy we forget.

Bring me some peace when there's talk of war, when it's hard to find,
bring me some peace when there's talk of war, I've got
peace on my mind.
Oh, peace is sweet, most anytime and yet,
bring me some peace when there's talk of war and how easy we forget.


Today was a terrible day to be following the news. Our economy doing the one thing we all knew it would do, but hoped that it wouldn't, after decades of deregulation and greed. The McCain campaign going completely negative on Obama in the hopes that what worked for Bush and Rove will work again. The environment in a tailspin and every fifty-year-old I know walking around with the dazed look of one who really groks that she will NEVER be able to retire.

And so, here's a rose for you in the wintertime, a short list of things that give me hope:

Dinner w a dear old friend whose pursuit of her own v, v, v advanced degree a continent away from where she lived convinced me that I could, too, go to evening law school. We drank and ate and traded gossip and talked politics and discussed our children and grandchildren and just being at a table next to her gave me strength and made me feel better. May you have friends like her.

Freeway Blogger doing what only he does and what all of us ought to do.

Barefoot College.

Nudibranches. Honest; this site keeps me going when everything else seems grim. How can you possibly have incorporated on the same planet as a nudibranch and give in to despair?

Obama is 12 points ahead in Virginia. Hello, Sarah, did you enjoy your little rally in Falls Church the other week? Bring it, bitch.

And, of course, Jeff Skilling is still in jail.

Photo found here.

Support The Troops. Send Them To College!

Like my good friend watertiger, I, too, had a dad who served in World War II (he joined up right out of high school and spent the war in the Pacific) and then came back to take advantage of the original GI Bill. He was the first in his family of English/Welsh immigrants to go to college and, even with the GI Bill, he worked his way through college, cooking breakfast, as his store of hysterical stories assured that I'd remember, for a women's dorm. My dad was a journalism major, back in the days before spellcheck, and I still remember him telling me how the dean called him in and told him that he was going to have to learn to spell if he wanted a journalism degree from the University of Colorado at Boulder. He must have learned, somehow, because he fed a family of five kids on nothing but his writing, sent all of us to college, left money for my mom to live on after he died, and left me enough inheritance for a lovely diamond dragonfly brooch.

My Democratic Senator, Jim Webb, has proposed that America, again, begin awarding our soldiers a full GI Bill. After dad's first-ever-in-his-family college degree, I stumbled my way into a masters degree and a juris doctor degree, largely still running on the strength of the impetus from Dad's GI Bill's push forward. Son, whose granddad helped move him into Princeton, earned degrees from that school and a law degree. We've paid commensurate taxes ever since. Goddess knows what G/Son will do. It was a good investment that America made in the late 1940s. It would be a good investment here at the end of aughts. Course, as watertiger notes, Republicans like Five-Deferments-Dick and John Sideny McCain are opposed to that expense. Fuckers. Why do Republicans hate the troops.

Boyz In Skool! Oh Noes!

The poor things. Education is just beyond them. It might even be too stressful; cause them to injure their reproductive organs.

Take Your Abstinence "Education" Program And Shove It

This one's for my wonderful and determined friend, R., who spent last week working on this issue for Virginia.

Today's WaPo reports the good news that:

The number of states refusing federal money for "abstinence-only" sex education programs jumped sharply in the past year as evidence mounted that the approach is ineffective.

At least 14 states have either notified the federal government that they will no longer be requesting the funds or are not expected to apply, forgoing more than $15 million of the $50 million available, officials said. Virginia was the most recent state to opt out.

Thank the Goddess. The only surprising thing is that anyone rational ever imagined that this twaddle could be effective.

Despite intense (and, ask my friend, R., it's really, really intense and nasty) lobbying by fundie whackjobs and xianists, the trend is likely to continue.

"This wave of states rejecting the money is a bellwether," said William Smith of the Sexuality Information and Education Council of the United States, a Washington-based advocacy and education group that opposes abstinence-only programs. "It's a canary in the coal mine of what's to come."

"We hope that it sends a message to the politicians in Washington that this program needs to change, and states need to be able to craft a program that is the best fit for their young people and that is not a dictated by Washington ideologues," Smith said.

Smith and other critics said they hoped that if enough states drop out, Congress will redirect the funding to comprehensive sex education programs that include teaching about the use of condoms and other contraceptives.

"I think this could be the straw that breaks the camel's back in terms of continued funding of these programs," said John Wagoner of Advocates for Youth, another Washington advocacy group. "How can they ignore so many states slapping a return-to-sender label on this funding?"

I hate abstinence "education" programs for a number of reasons. First, of course, they're ineffective. Telling teenagers, with hormones coursing through their body designed specifically to make them want to have sex is about as effective as telling hungry dieters to just not eat or telling thirsty people not to drink. Sex is a natural biological function and our bodies are made to want it, just as they want air, and food, and water. Throw in a hyper-sexualized society, where 12-year-old girls dress like supermodels and sex is used to sell everything from beer to cars to, well, Viagara and you've got to be on dope to think that telling kids not to have sex = sex education. And the results show that abstinence "education" is lots less effective at preventing teen pregnancy than, oh, say, teaching kids how to use condoms and passing them out to kids every chance we get.

In addition, federal health officials reported last week that a 14-year drop in teenage pregnancy rates appeared to have reversed.

"This abstinence-only program is just not getting the job done," said Cecile Richards of the Planned Parenthood Federation of America. "This is a ideologically based program that doesn't have any support in science."

Second, I just reject the notion that we should be giving teenagers the message that there's something wrong with sex. There isn't. Sex is great. Teen pregnancy and sexually-transmitted diseases are the problems. So let's teach kids how to prevent those. Consider another natural function that we're wired to want to do: eating. We don't tell kids not to eat until they get married. Eating isn't the problem; eating is great. Obesity and poor nutrition are the problems. So we have health classes and phys ed classes and science classes and home ec classes to teach kids how to eat and cook healthy food.

Third, and this is related to the second reason, the notion that sex is a problem and should be avoided (at least for now) is a religiously-based idea. My religion doesn't agree. Teaching abstinence almost always slips over into indoctrinating kids into, if not outright xianity, into ideas introduced into this culture by xianity that are directly antithecal to, say, my religion. Xians can tell their own kids, in their own homes, how terrible sex is and why they should avoid it. Public schools should provide information: if you have sex, here's what could happen and here's how to avoid that.

My own Democratic governor, Tim Kaine, in spite of being a devout Catholic, recently added Virginia to the states telling the fundie whackjobs installed by the Bush junta to go pound sand.

"The governor has often stated that abstinence-only education does not show any results," said Gordon Hickey, a spokesman for Virginia Gov. Timothy M. Kaine (D), who announced plans to give up the funding last month. "It doesn't work. He's a firm believer in more comprehensive sex education."

Anyone who thinks that state elections don't matter can simply consider whether this would have happened if Jerry Kilgore had won in 2005.

Even more conservative politicians are getting off the abstinence merry-go-round:

"Why would we spend tax dollars on something that doesn't work?" asked Ned Calonge of the Colorado Department of Health and Environment. "That doesn't make sense to me. Philosophically, I am opposed to spending government dollars on something that's ineffective. That's just irresponsible."

The reasons given for passing up the federal money vary from state to state. Some governors publicly repudiated the programs. Others quietly let their applications lapse or blamed tight budgets that made it impossible to meet the requirement to provide matching state funds. Still others are asking for more flexibility.

"The governor supports abstinence education," Keith Daily, a spokesman for Ohio Gov. Ted Strickland (D). "What he does not support is abstinence- only education. We are asking to put the money toward abstinence in the context of a comprehensive age-appropriate curriculum."

Most of the battles on the state level are being fought by local affiliates supported by national groups. In Illinois, opponents are planning to launch a campaign next month involving more than 100 state groups to try to sway the governor and state legislature to forgo about $1.8 million in funding.

"These programs are dangerous," said Jonathan Stacks of the Illinois Caucus for Adolescent Health. "We're trying to get people across the state to raise their voice on this issue. I think once those voices are heard, the legislature and the governor won't have any choice but to back the will of the voters."

Not a minute too soon. Go, R.!

Seriously, This Should Lead To Impeachment

Sweet Kali on a croissant, yesterday's testimony from former Surgeon General Carmona would, in a rational universe, be enough, all by itself, to impeach George W. Bush. Carmona, Surgeon General during Bush's first term, testified that:

* He was ordered to mention President Bush three times on every page of his speeches. You know, this is the kind of megalomaniacal, stupid-shit, ignorant, petty rule that only the most deranged of emperors puts in place. Carmona needs to be forced to say who ordered him to do that.

* He was asked to make speeches to support Republican political candidates. Shades of Lurita Doan, Bush's head of the GSA, who asked her employees "How can we support our candidates in the next election?"

* Bush administration officials discouraged him from attending the Special Olympics because, he said, of that charitable organization’s longtime ties to a “prominent family” that he refused to name. I don't know why he's playing so coy; everyone knows that the family is the Kennedys. I want this incident thrown in the face of all the David Broders of the world who whine about how Democrats need to be "more bipartisan." The Bush administration won't even turn off its relentless politicization of everything to help out retarded kids who want to play softball or run races. I want this incident thrown in the face of every talking head on tv who moans about liberals with their "irrational hatred of Bush."

* He attended a meeting of top officials in which the subject of global warming was discussed. The officials concluded that global warming was a liberal cause and dismissed it, he said. He tried to explain the science to them; he was never invited back. Again, I don't ever want to hear again about "reaching across the aisle" on issues of "common concern." The Republicans' only concern was whether an issue was "liberal" or "conservative" -- the fact that the entire Earth might be at risk was irrelevant. You've really got to stop for a minute and let that sink in.

* When stem cells became a focus of debate, Dr. Carmona said he proposed that his office offer guidance “so that we can have, if you will, informed consent.” “I was told to stand down and not speak about it,” he said. “It was removed from my speeches.” Informed decision making? This junta don't' need no informed decision making! Karl Rove decides that a given position will play well with the irrational, batshit insane, fundie base and that's the end of the matter. Meanwhile, American medicine and research lags behind the rest of the world and other countries patent and profit from new medical discoveries. The Republicans don't care. They care about being in power. Period.

* He wanted to address the controversial topic of sexual education. Scientific studies suggest that the most effective approach includes a discussion of contraceptives. “However there was already a policy in place that did not want to hear the science but wanted to preach abstinence only, but I felt that was scientifically incorrect,” he said. See above re: Rove.

* A surgeon general report on global health was never approved because he refused to sprinkle the report with glowing references to the efforts of the Bush administration.

* A surgeon general report concerning health care in prisons has also never been released. “The correctional health care report is pointing out the inadequacies of health care within our correctional health care system,” he said. “It would force the government on a course of action to improve that.” Because the administration does not want to spend more money on prisoners’ health care, the report has been delayed, Dr. Carmona said. “For us, the science was pretty easy,” he said. “These people go back into the community and take diseases with them.” He added, “This is not about the crime. It’s about protecting the public.” Protecting the public is so low on this administration's list of priorities that it's laughable.

Interestingly, Dr. Carmona described himself as politically naive. He's not the only person chosen by this administration who can be described that way. Remember John J. DiIulio Jr., director of the faith-based office, who eventually accused the the Bush White House with being obsessed politics but dismissive of policy, and slammed them as "Mayberry Machiavellis"? David Kuo, who was deputy director of the White House Office of Faith-Based and Community Initiatives, later charged much the same thing. You get the impression that naivete was what the Bush administration wanted, especially for positions such as Surgeon General. Let's face it, if they were starting from scratch, Republicans would never even have a Surgeon General. Given, however, that they had to fill the position, they filled it with a naive dupe who would follow their instructions to mention the boyking three times on every page and allow them to use him to mislead the American public. Sometimes, even naive dupes insist on trying to do their actual jobs. In that case, they are never invited back to meetings and are let got at the end of the first term. And, here's how the Bush junta thanks them:

Emily Lawrimore, a White House spokeswoman, said the surgeon general “is the leading voice for the health of all Americans.” “It’s disappointing to us,” Ms. Lawrimore said, “if he failed to use this position to the fullest extent in advocating for policies he thought were in the best interests of the nation.” That's cute; isn't it? Dr. Carmona failed to advocate for policies that would help Americans. Shame on him. The denial of reality is positively breathtaking. The man just testified under oath that when he tried, for example, to advocate for sex education that included information on contraceptives, "there was already a policy in place that did not want to hear the science but wanted to preach abstinence only." When he wanted to release a report that would have prevented released prisoners from spreading AIDS to the general public, the report wasn't released because that might have impacted Paris Hilton's tax cuts. When he wanted to release a report on global health, it was trashcanned because he hadn't sufficiently larded it with praise for Republicans.

Someone impeach Bush and Cheney and do it fast.

Education Matters

I'll start off by admitting my bias: I am a huge believer in education, especially, but certainly not only, a liberal arts education. My great grandparents on my mother's side emigrated from Sweden to the United States; my great grandfather was a waiter. For immigrant families, education was both a tremendous part of the promise of America: free public education! It was also still, to some extent, out of reach. Thus, when times got tough and someone had to drop out of school and go to work, it was often the young women in the family who were pulled out of high school and sent to the mill, or factory, or to the hotel where maids were needed.

My maternal grandmother met that fate, leaving school to help support the family by making hotel beds while her brothers continued on through high school. I think that when my mother told me that story I was maybe five or six. It truly was one of my first intimations that I had landed on a planet with a patriarchial problem. As a little girl, all I could say was, "But that's not fair!"

My mom, orphaned at an early age, made it her goal to get through high school. The youngest of three sisters, she didn't have to quit school in order to support anyone else. As a result, she got an office job instead of a job at the hotel, the office job where she met my dad.

My dad actually had that elusive thing, a college degree. He was the first in his family of Western beet farmers and horse trainers to get a college degree, although his mother had gotten a few years at a ladies musical conservatory before she left to marry my horse-trainer granddad. My dad got that college degree as a gift from a grateful country; he like many other young men of his generation survived World War II to come home to the GI Bill. The GI Bill paid my dad's college tuition. He worked while he was in college, cooking breakfast in one of the women's dorms at the University of Colorado -- something he considered less than taxing, according to his stories.

If I ever got any message at all from my parents, it was: You Will Go To College. College was, in their minds, the key to being able to participate in the world of ideas and to living a better material life, a more worry-free life, than that enjoyed by waiters, hotel maids, and horse trainers. And, oldest child that I was, I absorbed the lesson, earning bachelors, masters, and law degrees. As a percentage of my income, I paid far more for Son's Montessori schooling than for his degree at Princeton, mostly because the Montessori paid dividends and Son got great scholarships and financial aid. He also took out some student loans and took out more when he went to law school.

All of which is a long wind up for saying that I think it is fucking criminal that kids today can't afford a college education without taking out huge private loans in addition to their student loans. We're the richest country on Earth. We can piss billions of dollars a month down the hole of the boyking's vanity war. We can absorb the externalities caused by millions of fools driving Hummers and SUVs and we can pay athletes millions of dollars a year. We can afford tax cuts for Paris Hilton. It is a crying fucking shame that we can't send our bright young people to college.