One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 57

#57– “Turn the lights off when you leave a room. It saves electricity and helps keep the house cooler.”
(This is my mom’s college graduation photo, which was taken when she was approximately 50 years old and had raised five children. She had also graduated from high school just a few years earlier.)

Our generation is pretty self-righteous about “saving” the environment. Some seem to think this generation invented conservation and environmental consciousness and that environmental heathens are ruining everything. I have a slightly different opinion about that. In the words of Pogo, “We have met the enemy and it is us!”

Since the beginning of time everything in our known environment has been evolving, and some of the earth’s characteristics and inhabitants haven’t and won’t survive, probably including us. Which brings me back to mom’s #57, “Turn the lights off when you leave a room. It saves electricity and helps keep the house cooler.”

I suspect that mom had a tiny carbon footprint, as she was religious about recycling and conserving even up till the day she made the ultimate sacrifice and stopped breathing oxygen in and carbon dioxide out. Somewhere along the way I guess I adopted #57 from mom. I am constantly following my hubby around turning off lights, TV’s, radios and anything else that sucks electricity. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not really a very dedicated environmentalist. I just think that we don’t give much credit to the good land stewards and conservationists that have been around for a very long time, like my mom. We didn’t invent this stuff; we’re just looking down the throat of a disaster that has been creeping up on us for a very long time, and now we’re scrambling. This is a good thing. Click on Read More Below...

Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void by Mary Roach

Mary Roach has an amazing curiosity, is a very competent researcher and writer, and is FUNNY (not that dissimilar to Bill Bryson), and these combined elements,  create one hell of a entertaining read. Nearly everyone, including me, went crazy for her first book Stiff: The Curious Life of Human Cadavers, which was about more than anyone could ever want to know about dead bodies. Then she stumbled into her next book Spook: Science Tackles The Afterlife, rebounded pretty good with Bonk: The Curious Coupling Of Science And Sex, and now in Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void, she’s packed the pages with space travel trivia not ordinarily covered by NASA (or anyone else for that matter).

Roach covers peeing, pooping, farting, barfing, sweating, and sex (acts that significantly rely on gravity, which isn’t readily available in space). She shares much (almost too much) history about the space race between the US and Russia, but since it’s mostly stuff I’d never heard before or have forgotten (“thank you Teflon brain”), it was interesting. She interviewed a wad of ex-astronauts (aren’t they all?) and that was sort of interesting, too.

But the part I liked best was the extraordinary NASA and science focus on trying to help humans function in space. Apparently we’re not meant to go where no man has gone before. The lack of gravity really messes us up, and the length of time it takes to get anywhere is longer than anybody wants to spend with anyone else in a capsule the size of an SUV. Packing for Mars brings to light just how daunting a task this is. As such, I don’t think we’ll need to worry about packing any time soon.

On a final note, I would add that I listened to this book on my iPod and wished I hadn’t. In spite of fascinating factoids, and Mary Roach’s spanking good writing and fab sense of humor, Sandra Burr’s monotone reading of the audible version dang near put me into a coma. Do not listen to Packing for Mars but read it. It’s fun.

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 56

(This is the only photo I have of anyone on my dad's side of the family - my namesake, Aunt Sue, and my grandmother Wade, neither of whom I met. Dad had a bunch of brothers too, but no photos of them exist that I'm aware of.)

#56– “Wear white if you want the media to take your picture. They love to photograph people in white.”

Although I’ve always considered this just a mom-ism, now that I’ve thought about it, and done a little research, it makes perfect sense. If you’ve ever watched America’s Next Top Model (guilty confession), you know that they always use a reflective screen to put light on the models faces. I’m assuming that a white shirt has the same effect, and I’ve seen white shirts recommended for photos on the websites of professional photographers.

Of course, as one who will do just about anything to avoid having her photo made, this lesson from mom was more about avoiding the camera: 1.  Mom was such a camera-hog that I back-lashed and tend to avoid having my photo made, and 2.  No matter how hard I suck in my stomach, stand tall, and smile my practice-perfected photo-face, I never look as good as I think I do, and that is just more than I care to reconcile.

I’d hoped there was a more sophisticated word than camera-hog for mom’s craving to be photographed, but all of the words I came up with, narcissist, egocentric, etc., really didn’t apply. Mother was not self-centered, she just liked attention and having her picture made.  There’s not even a clever antonym for photophobic, so I’m making up a new one, photobold, which also isn’t clever, but does give me closure. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, someone who tends to use overly long (pretentious) words is sesquipedalian. Click on Read More Below...

American Ground: Unbuilding the World Trade Center By William Langewiesche

Although it is almost impossible to read, write or talk about 9/11 without getting emotional, I think author William Langewiesche does a commendable job in American Ground: Unbuilding the World Trade Center. Essentially, American Ground is about how the debris from the 9/11 tragedy was dealt with. It’s is also an interesting homage to the people that took an intensely delicate and horrible mess apart and took it away, with dignity.

Langewiesche, almost by accident, was the only journalist given unrestricted access to what was called “The Pile” (the collapsed buildings). Other than the well-executed flying of the planes into the twin-towers, there was little about the disaster or cleanup that happened according to any plan or procedure. There are no procedures for how you deal with commercial airliners flying into 110-story buildings full of people, or how to clean up the resulting destruction.

What Langewiesche portrays in this book is sort of like Nietzsche’s observation, "Out of chaos comes order." The organization that emerged from nowhere, with no authority, to run the rescue and a cleanup effort is a testament to the human spirit. It is amazing what we can do when we have to. There was so little organization in the whole clean-up of the destruction that it was a astonishing that it got done at all – much less as safely and fluidly as reported by Langewiesche. Click on Read More Below...

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 55

(Photo is of me in my Halloween costume - Old Lady Gaga)

#55 – “Always carry a handkerchief. It helps distinguish you from the riffraff.”

Many of the things mom taught me were not as much about utility as avoiding the horrors of commonality. Common is an interesting concept. What is common? Well, by mom’s definition, common is someone that doesn’t have the decency to carry a handkerchief. Of course with the advent of tissues, germ science and our “throw-away” society, we now carry disposable handkerchief’s, Kleenex.

As I typed the word Kleenex, it occurred to me that what I really meant was tissue, but some brands become so entrenched in our vocabulary that we use them generically, like Kleenex, Coke, Xerox and Google. Wondering if there was a word for these types of words (my mind works in truly spooky ways), I Googled and found the word, metonymy. Wiki then proceeded to suck me into its black hole as I further explored polysemy, synecdoche and sobriquet (I adore this word, which means nickname) - but back to mom’s hankies and riffraff.

When I was a kid, I spent a good deal of my time playing in my mother’s closet and drawers (chest of drawers, not under drawers). Her huge walk-in closet was my personal wonderland of dresses, hats and shoes, and her drawers (chest of), were a planet to be explored. I remember her dozens of dainty, perfectly ironed and lacy handkerchiefs; the fabric almost transparent with softness, tatted, and embroidered with initials and flowers. Not long ago I stumbled upon one of mom’s handkerchiefs. Now preserved in a picture frame, it hangs in a guest bedroom – an artifact of a particular, and in some ways very civilized generation. Click on Read More Below...

Science, Par Deux

“The mysticism of the religious visionaries of old arose from an intolerable disparity between the hugeness of their desire and the smallness of reality.”

Spanish Philosopher, Miguel de Unamuno

Did you know that “metacognition” is thinking about thinking, and that which allows us to outsmart ourselves - like leaving your credit cards at home when you go shopping? I think I should think about thinking more often. According to Walter Michel, Stanford University professor of psychology, metacognition/discipline is one of the most important lessons we can teach our children. Michel says, “Even the most mundane routines of childhood, not snacking before dinner and saving allowance, are sly exercises in cognitive training. Children are learning to outsmart their desires.” My thoughts on this topic could go really, really deep, but I’ll spare you.

Last year United States Geological Survey scientists in Alaska tracked and documented the longest non-stop migratory bird flight ever recorded. A bar-tailed godwit flew non-stop for 8 days at an average of 35 miles per hour, covering 7,250 miles! Well, I guess if you don’t have to stop to pee…. but on to more important matters, ants.

I’ve always said that humans are the fire ants of the universe. Well apparently I’m more right than I realized as humans and ants are eerily similar. For example, some ants get forced into low-status jobs and are prevented from becoming upwardly mobile by other members of their colony. Non-garbage workers who respond aggressively to the odors that linger on the garbage workers’ bodies confine ant garbage workers, to that thankless task. Hmmmm. In some ant species, the females venture out of the nest, seduce males, drag them back into the nest, snip off their genitals, and toss the rest of him out the door. Sound familiar? Some ant species herd and milk other bugs, take slaves, and farm (growing mushrooms). Oh, and by the way, insect poo poo is call frass. I knew you’d want to know that. Click on Read More Below...

HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM CHATEAU CROUSE (Click on Green Arrow)

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One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 54

#54 – “Put a soft cloth on the arms of your chairs.  It will keep them from getting so worn.”

 This saying brings to mind doilies, ruffles, faded upholstery and chipped furniture.  Because of my mom’s sense of decorating, our family home took on the style of shabby chic when shabby chic wasn’t so cool (Mom would roll over in her grave if she heard me say this!).  You’d have thought that doilies were a status symbol as we had them on practically every surface.  But with mom, I actually think it was about preserving the integrity of the furniture.  In fact she seemed to measure our wealth in furniture.  I wish I had $100 (accounting for inflation) for every time she said, “Those coffee tables are mahogany!  Just feel how heavy they are!”  Then she would always add, “They came from the furniture store in San Angelo!”  Our furniture was pedigreed.

Mom bought furniture to last a lifetime and, sure enough, some of her furniture is still with us.  It’s been divvied out amongst the five of us kids like treasures.  I always wanted mom’s desk, but I ended up with the “girls” bedroom furniture that bedded and clothed four sisters spread over some 60 years.  This furniture now resides in my guest bedroom.  My son Colt has already staked a claim on it “someday.” I was so pleased when he said he wanted it.

Some things should just never go away, like the very distinct fragrance of my childhood home.  It’s a fragrance that lingers like a spirit in that old bedroom suit.  Not always, but often, when I first walk in the door of our house, I get just a fleeting whiff of our old home and am transported back to my childhood.  It is as if the memories have a fragrance that seeps into the wood and, alas, also into the mattress and box springs.  Yes, I know they both need to be replaced and I know it sounds silly, but some of all of us live in that old mattress.  Perhaps I’ll request that mattress be the kindling on my funeral pyre. Click on Read More Below...

The Best American Science and Nature Writing of 2010

Every year I look forward to the release of The Best American Science and Nature Writing like a kid waiting for Christmas – well, actually, that and The Best American Medical Writing and The Best American Sports Writing. The only explanation I can give for this seemly incongruous attraction to science, medicine and sports is that I love to learn. The really ridiculous and pitiful thing is that because I retain almost zero of what I read, I am in a constant state of amazement.  Although I’m only on page 225 of The Best American Science and Nature Writing, I couldn’t wait to share with you the things that commanded my attention and stuff I’ve learned (and re-learned) so far.

“The Universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose,” John Burdon Sanderson Haldane, Geneticist, Oxford and Cambridge (and pretty dapper dude too - photo to right). I love this quote and think that it so elegantly states a fundamental of a Universe that never ceases to astound.

 “The fate of the planet, from an ecological point of view, is being decided by India and China and not by the United States,” Freeman Dyson, Professor Emeritus, Princeton. It is indeed a strange feeling to be raised in a country of “world dominance,” and then to wake up one day and realize that America has become just another country.

       Meet Elon Musk, raised in a rather average family in South Africa, but who by the age of 10 was reading 8-10 hours a day, and retaining everything he read. Elon dropped out of the Stanford Physics Ph.D. program at the age of 24 to start and then sell a software company for $307 million, then some weeks later started PayPal, which he eventually sold for $1.5 billion, so he could build rockets at his company, SpaceX. Elon wants to go to Mars because he’s fairly certain that humans are going to destroy earth, and he wants to be ready to hop off when necessary. It gets even better - Click on Read More Below...

The Wave by Susan Casey

I should have written my review of The Wave before I researched the author and the book. I would have said that it was one of those books I just wallowed in like a warm comforter on a cold day. I was hypnotized by the topic, impressed by the writing and charmed by the reader (I listened to the audio version). I would also have said that I finished the book feeling rather hopeless, the way that shows on TV about giant meteors make me feel. It may kill us all, but probably not, but you should be scared anyway.  But let’s back up a little.

The Wave is of course about waves – rogue waves, killer waves, tsunamis, just plain ole’ big-ass waves as tall as 5-story buildings - as told from the perspective of scientist, seafarers and surfers. The underlying thread or threat being, global warming may be making waves bigger, or there may have always been huge waves lurking out there, and what difference does it make. Having been raised in the desert, I find the ocean just short of terrifying. Also mom told me that when she was pregnant with me she had a very frightening “boat in a storm” experience, so I’m hard-wired for fear of large bodies of water, which of course meant that I had to read this book. Click on Read More Below...

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 53

#53 – “Add a little milk to bowls of soup right before you serve.  The milk will cool the soup to just the right temperature, and give it a rich flavor and texture.”

This morning, as I often do when I’m trying to decide what to write about, I called my husband on his cell and asked him to give me a number between 52 and 100.  He was in the bedroom; I was in the living room.  “Eighty-seven,” he said, and hung up.  When I saw #87, I smiled.

Back before dairy became the bane of our existence (and ironically just about everyone was thin), whole milk was the standard and served in our home with regularity and in abundance.  In fact, other than water, iced tea and milk were pretty much the only liquids served in our home.    We didn’t have soft drinks, orange juice, alcohol or anything else in a bottle.  I remember with vibrant clarity the first time I saw a pitcher of red Kool Aid at a friend’s home.  I felt as though magic had been performed.  I also felt as though I had been born into the wrong family. Click on Read More Below...

Happy Halloween To My Favorite Little Monsters!

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One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 52

#52 – “Keep your money in your shoes. That way you don’t have to carry a purse.”

Me, Dorothy, Gloria, Honey and Mom (seated) around 1984.

Not all of the one hundred things my mom taught me a million times seem nuggets of brilliance until closer examination.  Mom was a very practical gal. She knew that one should always have some cash on hand (or foot as it were) … Wow I just had an epiphany! I don’t remember my mom carrying a purse! How does a woman not carry a purse, and why did I have to reach the age of 42, OK 62, to remember that she didn’t carry a purse!

Actually, that explains a lot. Now I know why mom’s car looked like a terribly untidy house. She had to carry everything she needed in her car because she didn’t carry a purse! She had makeup, perfume, pens, pencils, jewelry, checkbooks and glasses on the front seat, and a stack of household bills and other paperwork sliding around on the passenger floor - everything women usually carry in their purses. This also explains why my sisters and I have an aversion to purses. 

Dorothy: “Did you see my new purse?”

Me: “Yeah I saw it. It’s small. Really small, but not as small as my new purse!”

Dorothy: “Where’d you get that?”

Me: “I got it at the getting place. Eat your heart out.” Click on Read More Below...

Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself – A Road Trip with David Foster Wallace, by David Lipsky

In 2009 Book Goddesses member (and my personal barometer of “cool”), Loralee Martin, picked one of David Foster Wallace’s books Consider the Lobster as our book-of-the-month selection.  She chose this in remembrance of Wallace who had recently committed suicide.  I enthusiastically agreed, all the while thinking, “Who the hell is David Foster Wallace?”  Turns out if you don’t know of Wallace nor have read his book Infinite Jest, you’re probably from the shallow end of the gene pool or at the very least not well-read.  Time magazine chose Infinite Jest as one of the “All-Time 100 Greatest Novels” covering the period 1923–2006; so of course I had to learn as much about him as quickly as possible.  Fate helped out when David Lipsky, author of Absolutely American and contributing editor to Rolling Stone and a ton of other publications, published his strange but interesting verbatim five-day interview with Wallace, Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself.

When I say verbatim, I literally mean verbatim.  Evidently Lipsky took the tape-recorded interviews to a stenographer and said, “transcribe this please;” added a few comments of his own (very few) and voilà the book was born. Don’t get me wrong.  Lipsky is a smart writer and an interesting guy himself, but I couldn’t make out if this book was opportunism (riding on the rubberneckers of Wallace’s suicide – mea culpa) or just a really interesting homage to a brilliant but tortured soul (a description that has become a cliché). Click on Read More Below...

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 51

#51 – “Always use a tablecloth with a bed sheet under it. The cloth gives a warm feeling to the setting, and the extra padding helps keeps the noise down.”

Two very specific memories surface as I ponder #51 of the one hundred things my mom taught me a million times.

(1)  Mom was a Nazi about proper-table-setting, and

(2)  Our house was always very quiet.

I never quite realized how quiet my childhood was until I became quite old (sorry, couldn’t resist). I was the last child in a family of five, and apparently an accident since mom as 40 and dad 60 when I was born. My closest sibling (brother) graduated and left for college when I was in the first grade. I don’t even remember my three sisters living at home. So during my childhood mom and dad were older, my siblings were all married or in college, TV hadn’t really taken hold, we didn’t have dogs, and the radio was only played at low volume, late in the evening while mom and dad played dominos, quietly. It was quiet, too quiet for a kid.

So I was enthralled by the chaos and racket in my friends’ home.  I’d go over to their houses, most of which contained multiple kids and dogs, and it felt like some absurd and entertaining circus of humanity, at least compared to my home. Click on Read More Below

House Rules by Jodi Picoult

The thing about critiquing books is that you feel the obligation to be critical. Be that as it may (I love saying that), critiquing House Rules by Jodi Picoult (pronounced pee-koe) is a challenge. I tend to be a little snobbish about what I call “serial writers,” authors publishing one or more books a year. I’ve given up reading Grafton, Grisham, and a few others I’m too pompous to admit, simply because they are so commercially successful. I have an innate aversion to being mainstream.  Jodi Picoult’s books tend to be the exception because she writes exceptionally well about morally provocative topics, i.e., a child who doesn’t want to give her dying sister a kidney (My Sister’s Keeper – a personal favorite), the trauma of a horrific school shooting (Nineteen Minutes – another favorite).

In House Rules, Picoult takes on a typically hot topic. Jacob is an eighteen-year-old with Asperger’s syndrome who is accused of murdering his social worker. There’s a younger brother suffering from lack of attention from a mother struggling to maintain a life for her child with a disability, an incompetent but lovable attorney, a barely there dad who was in fact never there, and the social worker’s asshole boyfriend. I’m not sorry that I read House Rules (Picoult’s books are impossible to dislike), but I did finish it feeling a little angry. Here’s why:

1.     Obviously the book would have only been 50-pages long if someone simply had asked Jacob, “So Jacob, what happened?” But it was irritating that no one did – not the mom, the detective on the case, nor Jacob’s attorney!

2.     How the story would have played out if Jacob had told what happened might have made a more engaging story, i.e., how the law would deal with it, the kids' relationship with their reappearing father, etc.

So read the book? Sure. But if pretty good just isn’t good enough for you, read “My Sister’s Keeper,” or “Nineteen Minutes.” Picoult shines in those two. House Rules left me feeling like it just wasn’t leaving quickly enough.

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 50

Photo is of my dad (middle in tie) at the grocery store he owned in Oak Cliff, Dallas, 1930's. My brother said that dad gave food to many, many people during the depression.

#50 - “When mentioning several people in a sentence with yourself, always list yourself last.”  To know if you should use “me” or “I” leave everyone else out of the sentence, and if it sounds right with “me” use “me,” otherwise use “I.”

You’ve heard me say before that mom was all about appearances. Well, she believed with ever fiber of her being that what came out of one’s mouth could make or break one. I may have been born and raised in West Texas where “done went” and “ain’t” are part of the local vernacular and have absolutely nothing to do with intelligence, but even as a small child I winced when someone said them.  I still do.

Aside from the grammatical and appearances issues, I just think that #50 is a really handy mnemonic.  And “mnemonic” is a word I adore. Mnemonic.  Mnemonic.  I love saying it, but occasions to use mnemonic don’t come up that often. I mean how do you segue from, “How’s work SueAnn?” to “Good. Working too hard.  You know how it is, but let me tell you about my favorite mnemonic.” Click on Read More Below...

Mount Holyoke Frances Perkins Program

Thanks to Very Smart Gal – Lynn Meredith for telling me about the Frances Perkins Program at Mount Holyoke, described on the Mount Holyoke website as a “specially designed program for women of non-traditional age who wish to complete the requirements for a Bachelor of Arts degree.”  Since my mom didn’t even graduate from high school until she was over 40 and had five kids, this program has special meaning for me. I virtually grew up on college campuses as mom went on to get her bachelor's and enough hours for several master’s degrees.

I love this description of the Mount Holyoke Frances Perkins Program:

“Recognizing that the quest for knowledge does not end, Mount Holyoke College welcomes women who follow unconventional paths to its gates and through The Frances Perkins Program opens the nation's oldest women's college to students of nontraditional age. Women who have dependents or are veterans are also eligible to apply for admission through this program.”

As you may recall from my August 1 review of Kristin Downey’s book about Mary Frances Perkins, I was astounded that I knew nothing about this Very Smart Gal who was the first woman appointed to a Presidential Cabinet. I am happy to know that someone else recognizes the amazing accomplishments of Frances Perkins, and I am truly inspired by the Frances Perkins Program at Mount Holyoke. 

Thanks Lynn!

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 49

#49 - “Always stick up for your sons/daughters-in-law.”
Even when I was a little kid I noticed that my mom was always very, very nice to her four sons-in-law and one daughter-in-law. Even under the best of circumstances that must have taken a certain commitment. You know how it is. No one is ever as perfect as your perfect child. 

Interestingly, although I noticed how nice mom was to Jack, Carroll, Bill, Cathy and my multitudinous husbands (I’ll bet you’re wondering how multitudinous), I didn’t particularly notice if they deserved her kindness. They could have been horrible and mom wouldn’t have ever said so. Whether she thought it will remain a mystery that she took to her grave. Click on Read More Below...

The Glass Rainbow: A Dave Robicheaux Novel by James Lee Burke

My friend Orlinda Naranjo (The Honorable Judge of the 419^th District Court) once said to me, “You read to learn don’t you?” Although I’d never thought about it, her comment ended up being very insightful, and getting insight into one’s self is always a benchmark on the meandering trail of our lives.  I didn’t learn a thing from The Glass Rainbow. I was however, reminded of how eloquent James Lee Burke can be, which is why I often pick his novels to listen to when the hubby and I are making a road –trip together.  He, and many of my other closest friends, read to “escape” and/or for entertainment.  Don’t get me wrong, I like to be entertained too, but I am highly entertained by real life. Whatever, SueAnn. Just tell us what the book is about and if it’s good.

OK. The Glass Rainbow is Burk’s most recent in a long series of who done it’s,  staring Dave Robicheaux, a rode hard and put up wet detective in New Iberia, Louisiana.  This one is good, one of his best, but not as good as Tin Roof Blowdown. There are the usual suspects, a couple of murders, a family member endangered, twisting plot, depraved characters, yadda, yadda. But in my opinion, there are only three things about this book that make it worth the time: Click on Read More Below...

Gals Graze

(Andrea Ball, Kay Rawlins and Dean Lofton)

Everything I know about Andrea Ball came from her writing in the Austin American-Statesman, and the 50 minutes we spent together at lunch Thursday – oh yes, and her hilarious blog, Real Estate Rumble, where she says she is “a nobody with a husband, two kids and three dogs, and has absolutely no business doing a real estate blog.” Only a skilled writer can make non-profit news anything less than a cure for insomnia. And as the writer for the Charity Chat blog, Andrea’s that gal, and now I see why. Yeah she smart, but it’s more than that, and I think it’s her exceptional honesty that at first seemed almost radical, “When I got your email inviting me to lunch, I thought, ‘who the heck is this person,’” then intensely interesting, “the Statesman got so many press releases from non-profits they had to do something with them, so they landed on my desk and Charity Chat was born,” to inspiring, “one of my babies was born so premature it wasn’t cute or sweet, it was just scary looking.” What you get from Andrea is what she is, and I really like what she is. Kay Rawlins spent 10 years in commercial banking in the UK, then completed her degrees in both childcare and education and business management and owned and ran two successful children's nurseries while also tutoring college students in childcare. Since moving to Austin in 2004, Kay has been involved in many fundraising events for various non-profit organizations, and currently serves on the board of the Center for Child Protection, which is where I met her. Kay and I were pulled together by some mysterious energy force and feel deeply in like, or at least I fell in like and she is gracious. Anyway, she and her husband own the Austin Aztex professional soccer team, where she manages a bunch of young, muscular, and as Kay explains, “extremely polite” men. Is it hot in here or is it just me? Dean Lofton is a new friend about whom I know little, but have staked a Very Smart Gals claim on nevertheless. Actually, you don’t have to know too much about Dean to be impressed. She’s a publicist, a writing instructor (gulp), and married to a Jazz musician, Jeff Lofton. You must check him out at Ruth’s Chris, Thursday nights – tell Bill Andrews [owner] I sent you. As you can see in the photo, she’s also a gorgeous red headed vamp! Dean does a writing workshop called “Writing Your Life As A Woman” she describes as “A class taught in the style of journal writing workshop - guides women to write their stories and discover their voice - gentle encouragement in a non-academic, creative environment - no writing experience necessary." Sounds like wonderful therapy, and it’s got to be fun with Dean the class leader. Go to her link and read the “Contract For Writing Your Life As A Woman©” You’ll see what I mean. 

What a great bunch of Very Smart Gals!

From SueAnn’s Science Desk

Every now and then, because I am intrigued by science, albeit superficially, you’ll have to suffer through my yammering about same. Or just skip over it. So here are a few of the tidbits that got my attention recently:

What the hell is the AAAS? I have no idea, but their hosting a “Women in Science” panel discussion. I detest acronyms, and for the life of me cannot figure out why any organization would use them. They tell you nothing, convey no meaning, and carry no passion.  Let’s see, the American Association of Animal Science? Anal Science? I went to their website and it doesn’t even tell what AAAS means on their homepage! I had to go into their website to find out that they’re the American Association for the Advancement of Science. Thanks for letting me vent.

Researchers have long known that laughter boosts the immune system, lowers cholesterol and blood pressure, and reduces stress, but they are now claiming that it decreases appetite at the same level as a gym workout. Laugh more, eat less. Sounds good to me, these aught to be worth a few calories. "I feel sorry for people who don’t drink, smoke or overeat. Because someday they’re going to be in a hospital bed, dying, and they won’t know why.” (Redd Foxx). "They say animal behavior can warn you when an earthquake is coming. Like the night before that last earthquake hit, our family dog took the car keys and drove to Arizona." (Bob Hope). 

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 48

#48 - “When someone gives you a gift, or simply does something nice for you, hand-write and mail a thank you note immediately.” 
(Photo is of my sisters, Honey and Gloria, and Dot's legs.)

The mere act of looking at this one of one hundred things my mom taught me a million times makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck. She was so adamant about prompt thank you notes, I worry about not sending them the way some people worry about burning in hell for their sins.

Me:  Mother forgive me for I have sinned. 

Mom:  When was your last confession daughter?
Me:  Yesterday.
Mom:  What is your sin?
Me:  I waited two days to send Sandra a thank you for the bracelet she gave me.
Mom:  Sorry honey. You’re going to hell. Didn’t I tell you a million times?
Me:  Yes. That’s OK. I deserve it. Bye.

I even collect thank you cards the way some people collect Coca Cola memorabilia. “Oh, that would be perfect for thanking Carol. She loves cats.” I have a side table by my chair with a drawer dedicated to thank you notes and pens – ever ready to execute etiquette with eloquence. 

Me:  Mother forgive me for I have sinned.
Mom:  When was your last confession daughter?
Me:  Two minutes ago.
Mom:  What is your sin?
Me:  I typed a thank you note to Mary on my computer and printed it on to the note card.
Mom:  You are no longer my daughter.
Me:  Yes I know. I just want to stop breathing.

Mom:  That can be arranged. 
Click on Read More Below...

Gals Graze

Yesterday’s Gals luncheon, which included (pictured, clockwise) Alisha Ring, Rachel Muir, Debbie Kern and Paula Disbrowe was dynamic, stimulating, and très amusant!
Alisha graduated from UT then moved to NYC for five years, but she returned to run the Austin Technology Council (seemingly dragging them from the brink of collapse), then became the GM of The Texas Tribune. Apparently Alisha is like the bluebird of happiness flitting around, landing on organizations, getting them good, then flying off to vitalize another! She is currently leading a collaborative technology initiative for UT.
Rachel founded Girlstart and hardly needs an introduction as this keen-edged stiletto knows everyone in town. She’s been featured on Oprah, CNN, and the Today Show for gaud’s sake! She most recently raised a billion dollars for Mother’s Milk Bank (OK, maybe just multi-millions), and now she’s going to heft Convio (non-profit fundraising software) to the Fortune 500 with her freaky marketing skills.
Debbie (also featured below under “My Friends”) is a very high-level events planner/marketing genius and owner of i3 Marketing Group (think Paris and IBM), five-time chair of the Center for Child Protection's PlayBingo fundraiser, scary smart, and a superior friend.
Paula is a chef and a food and travel writer, who is probably most famous for her fab cookbooks, one of which, Real Cajun, co-written with Donald Link, just won the 2010 James Beard Cookbook Award for American Cooking! If you don’t own her Cowgirl Cuisine Cookbook, go on Amazon.com and get it right this instant! It’s FAB. Paula is also the marketing guru for Feather Down Farm Days, which is like eco-tourism, but farm-y, fun and luxurious, where she recently entertained a half-dozen of Martha Stewart’s editor/mavens! Paula is everywhere you look and lookin’ good! These are some Very Smart Gals!

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 47

#47 - “Don't wear your glasses, they hide your true beauty and make you look weak.”

This morning as I perused the list of one hundred things my mom taught me a million times, seeking my elusive muse, #47 jumped up, grabbed my hand and said, “C’mon SueAnn, pick me! I always make you smile!” I often mock mom’s one hundred things, but there’s an esoteric little fold of gray matter snuggled away in my noodle that senses a fundamental, albeit chafing truth in her lessons. And gal-howdy this lesson is loaded. There is the glasses thing, and the not wearing of them, there’s the “hiding true beauty,” thing, and of course, the land mine, “looking weak.”

Let’s start with glasses. I wonder if I would have made better grades in high school if I’d been able to see? On the other hand, at least my school photos didn’t include cat-eye glasses.

Epiphany Pause! So that’s why I dropped my baton a lot! I was a twirler, and apparently a visually impaired one at that. Click on Read More Below...

Special Moms, Special Healing - For Special Needs Moms

My friend Julie McAllister, mother of two special needs children, has created a website to help moms "love themselves as much as they love their special needs children," and I think that's very special! Her oldest was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome (an Autism Spectrum Disorder) at age five and the youngest developed multiple food protein intolerances shortly after birth.  Special Moms Special Healing came to being when Julie, who I met when she was the CEO of Big Brothers Big Sisters, started researching online for resource material that targeted mothers of special needs children, and found virtually zero. Julie's website provides support and information on the topics of "Self-Love, Forgiveness, and Nutrition. If you know a mother of a special needs child, please pass along this website link. They will surely benefit from Julie's considerable experience, education, and training - and, she's a Very Smart Gal!

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 46

#46 - “Always clean your kitchen while you cook. 
It should be clean when you sit down to eat.”

Just when I think I’ve finalized the list of one hundred things my mom taught me a million times, another one springs into my consciousness. Like a car running a red light, it appears as a blur in the corner of my eye causing me to stomp my break and blurt out an expletive!  Sure enough, last week, just as I always do before I take my hubby his dinner plate and sit down for dinner, I was putting up food, and cleaning the kitchen counter and stove top, when a thought bubble popped up over my head, “Oh my gaud! Another of mom’s lessons.”

This one of one hundred conjures one question and one fact:
1.  Does everyone clean their kitchen while they cook?
2.  My husband doesn’t.

I worship Food Channel star Giada De Laurentiis. When she cooks in her “church of the immaculate kitchen,” it looks like a high-tech clean room. I strive for her virgin white kitchen ethic; but in reality, Rachael Ray is really more my style, sloppy and colorful. Of course both have minions to come along and clean up after them during commercials, so no reality there.

I should probably clarify that I like to leave a clean stove and countertop, but washing dishes is right up there with cockroaches on my list of things to hate. I say this with a complete lack of irony. I will do almost anything to avoid washing dishes. Which brings me to my husband. Click on Read More Below...

South of Broad by Pat Conroy

Set in Charleston, South of Broad is one of those panoptic novels about a generation of family, friends, marriage, class distinction, prejudice, fortune, mental illness, the glory of sports, AIDS, murder, child abuse, marital infidelity, religion, long-held secrets, and just about everything else you can cram into a book, including a natural disaster (hurricane).  It would take a page of writing just to tell you the plot details, so I won’t. If you must know, check out another review, or read the book, which won’t be a waste of time.

Pat Conroy can sure spin a melodramatic tale though. And his writing is occasionally exquisite. Every now and then he’d pour out something that made me bang my head with my fist and say, “why-can’t-I-write-like-that!” But the problem was, it almost felt like he was in a good mood one day and decided to focus on writing beautifully. Then all the other days he just felt like developing characters. It didn’t read like a colorful and seamless tapestry of story woven through characters. His characters are absolutely the meat of this book, and juicy they were, but they also didn’t feel real. They were too perfect or too bad or too smart, simply designed to spice up the story.

Good writers tell stories. Exceptional writers make you think and feel. The only thing South of Broad made me think was, “Gaud, what next? A Mars invasion?” and “For christ sake, just tell us why Leo’s brother offed himself,” although the reason is pretty transparent from the very beginning. And feel, well South of Broad made me feel like I’d just had a meal at Luby’s Cafeteria – everything looked so yummy, but was mostly bland, except the coconut pie, which was excellent!

Tammy Wynette: Tragic Country Queen by Jimmy McDonough

Tammy Wynette: Tragic Country Queen starts and ends with bizarre letters to Tammy from author Jimmy McDonough, which just felt creepy, and nearly derailed me from reading the book altogether.  But fortunately, it quickly moved on to the engaging story of Wynette’s upbringing, first marriage (of five), young motherhood, and her tenacious pursuit of a career in country music. Unfortunately, what began as a truly inspiring life quickly turned into a horror story when Tammy got rich and her health went to hell in a handbag.

There were, however, several things I learned about Tammy that made this book well worth the read. For example, I didn’t know that Tammy was the first country artist to produce a platinum-selling album. And McDonough’s tales of how Billy Sherrill and Wynette wrote, recorded and produced her music made we want to go back and listen to the music, words and phrasing. I also really enjoyed reading about Tammy’s marriage to Jones, which was apparently born of infidelity and true love and filled with passion and craziness. What was most disturbing to me about Wynette’s life was her distant relationship with her children. She obviously loved them, but at the same time, neglected them horribly. Friends described Wynette’s children as being uncared for, dirty, unfed and emotionally detached from their mom.


Wynette’s life ends in horribly poor health, a suspicious death, a conniving last husband, and little left of her legacy other than, “Stand By Your Man.”  To this day, one of her kids supports herself cleaning houses. What a sad epitaph. 

If you are interested in the history of country music or Tammy Wynette, I think you’ll enjoy Tammy Wynette: Tragic Country Queen, just know that it all ends, well… tragically. 

Empire of the Summer Moon: Quanah Parker and the Rise and Fall of the Comanches, the Most Powerful Indian Tribe in American History by S. C. Gwynne

The entire time I was reading this book I kept coming back to the fact that my dad was a grown man (25 years old), when Quanah Parker died and therefore lived in the era of the Native American genocide! Wow! For those of you who don’t know, Quanah Parker was the last chief of the Comanches, and son of Cynthia Ann Parker, a captive white girl, and Comanche Chief Peta Nocona. Although I know almost nothing about my dad’s side of the family, there are three things that make me think that there’s some Native American blood running through my veins. First, my dad had Native American facial features. Second, he was from Oklahoma, and third, I vaguely recall my mom saying something about her in-laws being "a bunch of Indians," insinuating something like hillbillies.  I tend to romanticize about Native Americans, and although I think that their genocide by European American and Mexican settlers was horrible, humanity has always had, and probably always will have, a propensity for “running off” whoever has something they want. Not to condone it, but history also tells us that Native American tribes fought over territory as well. As war-prone as humanity has always been, evolution seems more about survival of the "fight-est" than than the fittest! Click on Read More Below...

The Woman Behind The New Deal – The Life and Legacy of Francis Perkins, Social Security, Unemployment Insurance and the Minimum Wage by Kristin Downey

Francis (Fanny) Coralie Perkins was the first woman appointed to the Presidential Cabinet, serving as Secretary of Labor for 13 years under Franklin D. Roosevelt and Harry Truman. Her fate as a founder of many of the social services we now take for granted may have been predetermined, but I think that it was sealed on March 24, 1911, the day she witnessed the Triangle Shirtwaist factory fire in New York, which caused the death of 146 garment workers, almost all of them women, who either died from the fire or jumped from the fatal height. It was the worst workplace disaster in New York until September 11.

“It is a great historic irony,” says author Kristin Downey, “that Frances is now virtually unknown. Factory and office occupancy codes, fire escapes and other fire-prevention mechanisms are her legacy. About 44 million people collect Social Security checks each month; millions receive unemployment and worker’s compensation or the minimum wage; others get to go home after an eight-hour day because of the Fair Labor Standards Act. Very few know the name of the woman responsible for their benefits.” Click on Read More Below...