Smart Gals Sip

Mary Nell Mathis, Becky Beaver, Karen Sonleitner, Emma Lou Linn and Cecelia Burke (pictured) - what a powerhouse group of women! We convened at Jeffrey’s on a Tuesday night for some fun reminiscing and, sure enough, the magic showed up right on cue.

I met Mary Nell Mathis around 1989 when I was President of the Austin Women’s Political Caucus. She came to a meeting and introduced herself saying that she ran for US Congress out of Lubbock. Any woman with that much spunk simply had to be my friend! Mary Nell graduated from Mary Baldwin College in Virginia, taught mathematics at Texas Tech, and has been a fierce government watchdog as the Chair of Common Cause, nipping at the heels of governors through numerous administrations.  When I asked Mary Nell about her 15 minutes of fame, she said she thought it was probably her 2007 live interview on CNBC. When I invited Becky Beaver to join the group for drinks, I had no idea that she had known Mary Nell even longer then I, so that made our little reunion even sweeter. I’ve known Becky so long that neither of us are sure when or how we met, but we decided it had to have been through the Austin Women’s Political Caucus, probably in the early 80’s. Becky graduated from Tech and then UT Law School, and has since become a preeminent Central Texas Family Law attorney and a well-know community philanthropist, serving on many local boards.  Just Google her and you’ll see what I mean! Karen Sonleitner and I bonded when she was a Television News Reporter for KVUE and I was working as Sr. Aide to County Commissioner Bob Honts. Karen went on to serve as the Travis County Commissioner for Precinct 2 for eleven years. Karen said that her 15 minutes of fame was probably in 1995 when she was one of the very few democrats elected to office during a very atypical Austin Republican landslide year! Karen is a smart gal who is not afraid to stand up for what she believes in, and she accomplished so much during her terms as County Commissioner. Emma Lou Linn cracks me up. If I had to be stuck on a deserted island with one person, I could do a lot worse then Emma Lou!  I met Emma when she was elected to the Austin City Council in 1975, along with a historic group of mold-breakers. She has a PhD in Psychology from UT, is currently Professor of Psychology and Forensic Science at St. Edwards University, and serves on the Forensics Board of the Texas Criminal Defense Investigators Alliance. And get this: She’s from Rocksprings! Another small-town gal makes it big. She regaled us with a funny story about being in Europe during the 70’s and being repeatedly mistaken for Barbara Bel Geddes who played the character of the “Grand Dame” Miss Ellie in the hit TV show Dallas. She milked the misidentification and enjoyed celebrity status all over Europe! Cecelia Burke was Travis County Tax Assessor Collector for six years between 1993 and 1999, when she became the Travis County Director of Domestic Relations. She also worked under Lieutenant Governor Bob Bullock when he was State Comptroller.  Cecelia recently retired and when I asked her what she was doing now, she said, “I’m working out. I walk. I go to the gym.  And I do Pilates.” So needless to say, she’s is great shape! She told some really funny stories about the Women’s Political Caucus, getting in and out of scrapes! This doesn’t even come close to telling you how important these women have been, and are, to Austin and Texas politics and women’s election to Austin offices. They all significantly influenced my political involvement, and they all “threw their bodies over the barbed wire” for Ann Richards as she approached her election to Texas Governor. A great bunch of smart gals with whom I feel fortunate to be associated.

The Intentional Networker by Patti DeNucci

The Intentional Networker by Patti DeNucci (pictured) is a power-packed “how to” for young ambitious professionals seeking to build a career; or middle-aged professionals who can’t seem to reach the professional peak; or old, semi-retired professionals who need to be reminded that they don’t know it all.

Discloser: the author of The Intentional Networker, Patti DeNucci, is a long-time acquaintance, and our friendship is one that defies time and distance. We bonded over a mutual love of reading and something else indefinable, and I know that even if I never see her again, she will always be my friend. 

I was in awe of and genuinely excited for Patti when I first heard that she was publishing a book, but then I blurted out that I wanted to read it and review it on my blog, and trepidation settled in my gut. What if the book was boring, pedantic, fluffy, or anything less than fab? Thankfully, it was none of those things, well, except fab.

When I started The Intentional Networker I found myself making a list of people to whom I needed to give this book. Among my copious notes in the margins were, “give a copy to the kids,” and “this book should be required reading for high school kids,” but by page 45, I had forgotten about helping others, and started thinking how this book could help me, i.e., when Patti suggest the reader list their “big three” life priorities, I listed, 1. Family; 2. Exercising my mind; and 3. Being still. Realizing that I valued "being still" was an important revelation to me.

The Intentional Networker is really about how to attract more business, particularly through what Patti coins, “intentional networking,” but since getting more business is a lot about being a person of good character, it provides a smorgasbord of thought-provoking and valuable takeaways, regardless of whether you are an ambitious business-climber or a lounge-lizard.

The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith

I really wish I’d read Patricia Highsmith’s book The Talented Mr. Ripley before I saw director, Anthony Mingella’s 1999 movie adaptation by the same name, because the entire time I was reading the book I kept envisioning, Matt Damon as Tom Ripley, Jude Law as Dickie Greenleaf, Phillip Seymour Hoffman as Freddie Miles and Gwyneth Paltrow as Marge Sherwood. Oops, now you will too.

It never occurred to me that The Talented Mr. Ripley was a book before it became a screenplay, but when I recently did a search for “best thriller books ever,” it popped up on every list, along with The Killer Inside Me, which I previously read and reviewed. So I went into the book knowing who does what, and thinking that would diminish my enjoyment. It didn’t. First, I want to tell you a little about the author, Patricia Highsmith (pictured), mostly because I so loved her writing style, which was smooth, intelligent, and so subtly terrifying (Graham Greene called Highsmith "the poet of apprehension"), but also because she’s a Texas gal, born in Fort Worth, and a pretty interesting character herself.  

Highsmith grew up in Texas and New York, but spent most of her adult life in England and France. During her life, Highsmith was a popular author in Europe, however, her books went in and out of print for decades in the US. Her first novel, Strangers on a Train did gain Highsmith considerable fame after Alfred Hitchcock made it into a film. And then there’s  Danny DeVito's Hitchcock spoof Throw Momma From the Train. Also of interest is that many of Highsmith’s books, including The Talented Mr. Ripley, have very, very, subtle homosexual undertones. In Ripley it was an intriguing part of the mystery. Was he? Or wasn’t he?

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me a Million Times - Chapter 75

(Passport photo, 1957. We spent 3 months in Europe)

#75 - Always behave nicely with boys or they will never marry you.

Apparently I’ve behaved too nicely with boys my entire life because I’ve been married so many times I can barely keep track! Honestly, I wish mom had said, “You really need to be a little slutttier SueAnn, otherwise you’ll end up in a series of heartbreaking marriages.” 

Bottom line, I came out of my first marriage with three wonderful children and a broken heart, my second and third with some fabulous (and not so fabulous) memories and lessons learned, and my fourth and last, a great friend and companion. A couple of years ago my daughter told me I was being mean to my husband, so I decided to be nicer to him. But that worries me a little because looking back on my history, being nice hasn’t really served me that well.

But let’s go back to puberty when this whole issue of being a nice girl first became an issue. I was a nice girl, or at least I think I was. Of course after I made out in the backseat of Mr. and Mrs. A’s car with their son all the way back from church camp (it was dark), they probably didn’t think so.  But I didn’t go “all the way” with anyone until I was married, which seemed the criteria for “nice girl” when I was growing up.  I thought I knew in high school who “did it” and who didn’t, but really I didn’t (know).  I remember finding out about a pregnant girl a couple years younger then me and thinking, “Not her! She doesn’t even bleach her hair!” It would be an understatement to say that I was naive.

State of Wonder by Ann Patchett

I glided through Ann Patchett’s new book State of Wonder in my own state of wonder with her marvelous writing, the titillating theme, and my faith that this was going to be a tour de force to rival one of her best books yet, Bel Canto! But at some point, or several actually, I began to wonder if it was really as wonderful as I'd hoped.

Dr. Marina Singh is a demure employee of a pharmaceutical company and, of course we all know that demure women are good and pharmaceutical companies are soulless moneygrubbers. But I shook off my premonitions and clung to Patchett like a nursing baby.

Singh is demurely having an affair with the CEO of the company, who she religiously calls “Mr. Fox,” even after they’ve swapped body juice. She is not, however, having an affair with her co-worker, Anders Eckman, despite Anders’ wife’s suspicions - strange, but not strange enough to derail my wondrous journey with Patchett.

Anders Eckman (Singh’s co-worker), having gone to the Amazon to check on a project, dies while down there, so Mr. Fox sends Singh to the Amazon to find out what the hell is going on. But the project leader, Annick Swenson (the star of the book in my book), is too busy to be bothered by Eckman’s death, the pharmaceutical company or Marina Singh, and so the mystery builds!

A Stolen Life: A Memoir by Jaycee Dugard

In 1991, Phillip and Nancy Garrido kidnapped Jaycee Dugard, age eleven, as she walked to her schools bus, just steps away from her home in South Lake Tahoe California. Eighteen years later, she, along with her eleven and fifteen-year-old daughters were discovered and returned to freedom. As I read this statement I feel a deep black hole widening in my chest. Although I now know much of the horrifying detail of Jaycee Dugard's hours, days, weeks, months, years of torture, rape, and captivity at the hands of the Garridos, as told in her recent book, A Stolen Life: A Memoir, I have a hard time understanding that humans are capable of such beastly, soulless behavior.

Dugard lived in a tent in the Garrido’s back yard, and gave birth to her two daughters there. Garrido’s wife Nancy would go to playgrounds and film little girls doing the splits and showing their panties to take back to her husband. Garrido told Dugard that by being there for him to rape, literally for days on end (he called them “runs”), she was saving some other little girl. The depravity of the situation is unimaginable.

The book was amazingly digestible considering the topic, and there were some interesting elements that came out in her story. One was her obsession with cats – the only good thing in her life. They didn’t hurt her, lie or expect anything from her. They were all she had until she gave birth to her daughters, who she was forced to treat as her sisters.

Also of interest, Jaycee didn’t feel that she could or should escape because who would take her back or love her after what she’d been through. Her captors would abuse her horribly. then tell her they loved her and bring her gifts. They became her world; the Stockholm syndrome, where the captive grows to love their captor, tragically played out.

Smart Gals Sip

Jeffrey’s was cool and dark, a welcome relief as I’d just walked through a wall of heat between my car and the bar. Although I never drink hard liquor, on a whim I ordered a “Friendly Ghost,” gin, coconut water, lime and cucumber, and tried not to gulp it down. Francie Ferguson was the first to arrive, face lit up as usual, and viewing my cool concoction, she ordered the Ghost too!

I met Francie when she was the Executive Director of Foundation Communities and I was president of the board. Francie actually founded Foundation Communities, but at the time it was call the Central Texas Mutual Housing Association. We bought distressed properties (apartment complexes, duplexes, etc), fixed them up, housed low-income families, and provided onsite services, i.e., tutoring, tax preparation, counseling, job skills training, etc. Of course all the board did was show up and vote, lend credibility, advise and occasionally raise a little money. Francie was the brain behind it all and I’ve vowed to never let her out of my circle of friends. Francie has served as the Director of the NeighborWorks® Multifamily Initiative for NeighborWorks America since 1998, and holds her masters in business (concentration in real estate and finance) from the University of Texas at Austin, and her bachelor's degree from Oberlin College.

While Francie and I caught up we grazed on an eclectic selection of cheeses, figs and melons, Steak Tartare, Quail Leg Confit, and Pommes Frites. Sounds like a lot, but you know how it is, your pay $60 for plates of food that wouldn’t satisfy a small child (quality not quantity, my new mantra).

Melinda Rodriguez swept in next, obviously still buzzing from her board meeting with the Catholic Charities of Central Texas, for which Melinda serves as the Executive Director. Melinda has lost 85 pounds over the past year so I almost didn’t recognize her. She looks great! I met Melinda when she was the Director of Development at El Buen Samaritano, a wonderful organization in south-central Austin that provides services to primarily low-income Hispanic families. Melinda has since moved on to Catholic Charities, which provides a variety of human services in a 25 county area of Central Texas, and the woman is busier then a cranberry merchant on Thanksgiving!  A native of Brownsville, Melinda has a master’s degree in Human Services from St. Edward’s University, a bachelor’s degree in Communications from the University of Texas, and is incredibly focused and bright, the criteria for membership in the Very Smart Gals! When I urged Melinda to have some of the snacks, she said she’d nibbled all during her board meeting and wasn’t hungry. I said, pizza? And she said, no, turkey out of the sandwiches! She also drank water. I tell you the woman is focused!

Last to arrive was Andrea Torres, and when I hugged her, she was so hot from being outside in the horrible heat; I thought I was going to spontaneously combust! I was on my second Ghost and was seriously flammable! Andrea is the Director of Development at Meals on Wheels and More, and I met her when I was writing grants for their capital campaign. There’s really something special about walking into a new building serving hungry elderly and homebound people, knowing that you helped make it possible. Andrea graduated from Stanford University, a school I've always wanted to attend, and may yet! She’s super smart, cool as a cucumber and fun too! Especially after she’s had a gin and tonic!

Before long, we were all baring our souls, commiserating, talking about everything and nothing – which is my second favorite thing about these get togethers. My favorite being the Very Smart Gals, with whom I feel fortunate to share oxygen! Thanks for a fun happy hour, Francie, Melinda and Andrea!

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me a Million Times - Chapter 74

#74 - A sweet potato makes a beautiful, inexpensive, fast growing houseplant.
(Photo is of mom upon her college graduation - she was 40-years-old and had five kids when she graduated)
I love sweet potatoes and would probably eat them three times a week if the hubby shared that affection. Pan roasted with a little olive oil and a sprinkling of chopped rosemary, yum! I buy them often with the best of intentions, but in reality only cook them occasionally. Those that don’t get cooked sit in my veggie basket patiently waiting to please me, slowly loosing their moisture, their skin shriveling in seeming despair. I glance at them briefly, guiltily, like I’ve somehow let them down by not relishing their sweet, creamy being, and eventually toss them, all the while looking over my shoulder not making potato-eye contact. But, every now and then, I catch a glimpse of a root, reaching out, like a begging hand, and somehow know that this is one sweet potato I cannot get rid of because it reminds me of my mom.

Mom had a particular fondness for simple plants. I cannot pass by a stand of morning glories without tearing up, and I cannot throw away a sweet potato that has sprouted a root, because those were my mom’s two favorite plants. Morning glories grew prolifically out by mom’s back door, their purple and blue flowers trumpeting their vibrant beauty only briefly and yet gloriously in the cool of the morning.

Her sweet potato plants brought a deep green jungle of trailing vines and giant leaves into our home, adding a living breathing feeling to the otherwise inanimate furnishings. She would show me an aging sweet potato, pointing out the tiny roots reaching out of their eyes and say, “We’ll put this one in a jar.”

Emily and Einstein by Linda Francis Lee

I struggled to come up with an honest description of Emily and Einstein by Linda Francis Lee because I sort of liked it, but was also sort of mad at it because it didn’t pan out to be everything I wanted it to be (although I would also struggle to tell you why). So here you go. It was a sweet little book.

Emily is a too nice gal from modest origins married to Sandy, a despicable guy from old money. A cliché. Sandy steps off the curb in New York City where they live, gets hit by a bus, dies and comes back as an injured dog that is sent to a pound where he is nursed back to health and eventually adopted by a volunteer at the pound, his wife, Emily. Not a cliché, although it seems everyone is writing dog books. Who doesn’t have a special place in their heart for unconditionally loving canines? The theme of a husband dying and coming back as a dog, Einstein, was titillating, but Sandy/Einstein was such a terrible person and dog, I eventually found myself wanting him to run out into the street again.

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and Sandy/Einstein’s “e-ville” mom hardly waits for the dirt to settle on her son’s grave before she begins eviction proceedings to get her daughter-in-law thrown out of her son’s apartment at the famous Dakota building. OMG, I can’t tell you how any times I’ve stood outside the Dakota and imagined myself living there, in an apartment overlooking Central Park of course.

Sandy has come back as a dog because, in some weird supernatural situation I could never seem to understand, he must make amends to Emily for being such a shit before he can go to heaven or wherever. That whole theme is never explained to my satisfaction, or perhaps I zoned out when author, Lee (photo below), explained.

My Editor – Deborah Fondren

I would like to take a few lines to thank my editor and best friend, Deborah Fondren, who gamely puts up with my weekly, and sometimes painful attempts at grammar and punctuation. Believe me when I say that any slaughter of the Kings English in my blogging is probably due to my diddling with Deb’s edits.

 Thanks to Susan Eason too for stepping in as a substitute editor when Deb is busy, away from her computer, or justifiably ignoring me!

Photo was taken in San Miguel Mexico in 2007, and is my favorite photo of us because it is flattering to us both! We have been such good friends for so long that a few people have accused us of being lesbian lovers, which if we weren't such devoted heterosexuals, could actually be true (gag reflex engaged). I love her (platonically) that much.

Area 51: An Uncensored History of America's Top Secret Military Base by Annie Jacobsen

What is more disturbing than aliens in Roswell? The “big reveal” at the end of Annie Jacobsen’s book, Area 51: An Uncensored History of America's Top Secret Military Base!

Let me preface my review of Area 51 by saying that I am not a conspiracy theorists, I do not believe aliens from another planet have landed in Roswell, New Mexico (or anywhere else on Earth), and I am not particularly enthralled with government cover-ups. I am, however, very curious about just about everything, which is what led me to read Area 51.

Ever wonder why you can’t seem to get your teeth as white as the “whitening strips” promise?  Ever wonder why your third cousin removed says, “like” a lot? According to author Annie Jacobsen, your permanently yellow teeth and your cousin’s annoying linguistics are both because of Area 51. Not really, but by the time I finished reading Area 51, it seemed as though there were less then seven degrees of separation between every event and circumstance in the world, and Area 51.

Three Cups of Deceit: How Greg Mortenson, Humanitarian Hero, Lost His Way by Jon Krakauer

Nobody likes a tattletale. On the other hand, even depressing circumspection is good.

Jon Krakauer, whose books Into Thin Air and Into The Wild I loved, has stirred up a hornet’s nest, al la Oprah Winfrey/James Frey (A Thousand Little Pieces). In Three Cups of Deceit, he provides details and “evidence” that Greg Mortenson’s book, Three Cups of Tea, is full of lies and exaggerations, and that Mortenson has exploited the non-profit he establish, Central Asia Institute and its donors, for his own personal gain.

Three Cups of Tea is Mortenson’s huge best seller about how when lost in Afghanistan after trying unsuccessfully to climb K2 (second highest peak in the Himalayas), he ends up in a village where he is taken in and cared for. In appreciation, he pledges to return and build schools all over Afghanistan, which he does, via the non-profit he establishes, Central Asia Institute.

Three Cups of Deceit is Jon Krakauer’s claim that Three Cups of Tea is 90% false, Central Asia Institute is poorly run, and Mortenson is a deceitful opportunist.

Summer Fun With The Grandkids!

The Killer Inside Me by Jim Thompson

Researching for something to read during an upcoming weekend in Marfa, I googled “the best psychological thrillers ever” and The Killer Inside Me popped up in the top three of every list I found.

The Killer Inside Me is about the chillingly sociopathic Lou Ford, deputy sheriff in a small Texas town in the 1950s, who has a secret need for sadomasochistic sex with compliant women. And he really must kill the people he loves, and anyone who gets in his way, but in disturbingly interesting ways. The fact that I, and many others, enjoyed this book so much is more than a little unsettling. I think (hope) it was the exceptional writing that was the book’s hook and the interesting perspective provided through the first person telling of the story, but I also think that humans have an innate curiosity about things they would never do.

Just to give you an idea of how “rough” this book is (as my mom would say), it and the movie have been described as “misogynist hate-porn with a fancy wrapper.” The movie has even been criticized in Europe where just about anything goes. Hitchcock’s shower stabbing scene in Psycho, which is pretty much the same hate-woman-kill theme as in The Killer Inside Me, doesn’t seem as brutal as what is portrayed by Thompson.

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me a Million Times - Chapter 73

(Photo is of my son Colt, his partner Heather, and her two daughters, Taylor and Gracie. There's also a baby bump on Heather that is my newest granddaughter, scheduled to arrive in early October!)

#73 - When blankets get old and thin, patch them together.

If I had a backbone I would have buried my mother with an old blue blanket she loved and had patched so many times that it was as soft as a baby blanket. However, I couldn’t seem to get her in a coffin and in the ground fast enough. This is a very emotional confession for me, and I knew it would be when I saw #73 come up on the list of things mom taught me a million times. The reason I was in such a hurry to bury my mom was because it was so very painful to see her dead, and I’d been looking at her dead for a year. Not physically dead, but mentally – or so it seemed. She progressively lost her ability to talk, to recognize her family, to make eye contact, or to do anything that seemed familiar. It just didn’t feel like she was “in there,” and I was pretty convinced she wasn’t. But let’s talk about patching blankets, because I really don’t want to cry.

The Automatic Detective by A. Lee Martinez

I have a huge crush on Mack Megaton, a seven-foot tall robot with a free will glitch who becomes a reluctant detective and refers to humans as “squishy biologicals.” Mack is the main character in the wittiest book I’ve read this year, and possibly the best book I’ve read since The Help, which is saying a lot since The Help is a literary blockbuster and The Automatic Detective is sci-fi pulp fiction.

Apparently this theme isn’t original, i.e., Isaac Asimov's Caves of Steel, and I-Robot among others, but it’s new to me, and I loved it! Just imagine a hard-boiled Dashiell Hammett or Raymond Chandler detective mystery, set in a bizarre retro near-future full of mutants, aliens from an undisclosed universe, and robots. I know that doesn’t make sense, but it does in the book. I wouldn’t have picked this book if I’d known what it was about, but people were raving about it so I decided to give it a try, and I’m glad I did.

Mack Megaton, seeking a more human existence and citizenship in a world oozing biological nastiness and mutant creatures, gets dragged into the rescue of a human family of friends who have been kidnapped in a bizarre conspiracy. Forget about that though as the story is secondary to the hilarious dialogue and whacky characters. I loved Jung, Mack’s sidekick, a gorilla-like human who loves to read Jane Austen. And get this, Mack is all man, but he’s not sexual. There are sexy women characters and seductions, but there is no sex, zero, zip, nada.

Stories I Only Tell My Friends: An Autobiography by Rob Lowe

I didn’t want to read Rob Lowe’s autobiography, Stories I Only Tell My Friends, and I sure didn’t want to like it, but I did both. When I told my hubby who was equally disinterested in Rob Lowe that I’d really enjoyed Lowe’s book, he said, “What was so good about it?” I effortlessly ticked off the following:

1.   Lowe apparently wrote Stories I Only Tell My Friends, himself, and he did a good job. His mother was a prolific, yet seldom published writer, and his family ran in a pretty educated circle. This literate foundation provided a more apt and cultivated narrative than I expected. No doubt he has a good editor too. Plus Jodie Foster is one of his best friends, and I doubt she suffers dummies.

2.   I listened to the audio version of the book, and was entertained and amused by Lowe's exceptional voice impersonations of the many recognizable characters he talked about in his book. The way he introduced his famous friends was fun too - almost like a game of charades. He would tell a little bit of a story about someone, tossing out clues, then came the big reveal. I had fun trying to guess who he was introducing based on a clue like, “We both took our trash out on Tuesdays, and he would fix me with that look and say, ‘I’ll be back.’” Well, not that obvious, but you get the picture (no pun intended).

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 72

#72 – “Use Palmolive dish soap to shampoo your hair.  It is less expensive than shampoo, and makes your hair really shine.”

Apparently Palmolive dish soap was pretty cheap when I was growing up as we always had it around. The only reason we didn't use Tide, which was even cheaper, for washing our hair and dishes in addition to our clothing, was because it burned your skin!

Mom was frugal, but not just because she grew up in the Great Depression, or because that was the way she was raised. After my dad died and we sold everything to pay off the loans on the road construction equipment (dad owned a fairly lucrative construction company), we were left with no home, an old car, mom’s $300 a month teaching salary, and her undeterred desire to groom me for marriage to someone who could give me a “better” life - or at least to become a strong independent woman capable of giving myself a better life. If washing our hair with dishwashing soap could save a few pennies to buy me a prettier dress, dance lessons, or books to “expand my horizons,” then that’s the way it would be.

When you are a kid you are oblivious to the sacrifices made by your parents, their motives, the what’s and why’s. I recall a child psychologist telling me one time that my kids were more concerned about what time their favorite cartoon was coming on then whether or not I was with them 24-7 - which I had a great deal of difficulty accepting.  

I recall agonizing for three days about having to tell my 8-year-old daughter she couldn’t go swimming because of an ear infection, but that her brothers could. When I told an old friend that I thought I shouldn’t let the boys swim either, he said to me, “You must teach your children to accept disappointment. If you fix everything for them, and they go out into the world and you’re not there to fix things, they are at a disadvantage.” I took his advice. My daughter cried for 5 minutes and got over it.

Bossypants by Tina Fey

Although I didn’t know much about Tina Fey before I read her book, Bossypants, what I think I know about her now is that she and I hide our insecurities behind humor. When going though the life-defining time of Junior High and High School, I was never pretty, smart or nice enough to be cheerleader, valedictorian, or most popular (my generation’s Nobel Prizes of Teenage-dom), so I fell back to baton twirler, clever gal, and class clown. Some of my classmates are probably thinking, “I don’t remember her being clever or funny!” But by gaud, no one can take my twirling medals away from me! So back to Tina Fey and her hilarious and interesting book, Bossypants.

Ever wonder where the fancy pants, smarty pants, bossy pants, linguistic formulation came from? Really? OK. Never mind. Let’s (I’ll) talk about Bossypants.

For those of you similarly unfamiliar with Tina Fey, she is (in her words), “a wide-hipped sarcastic Greek girl." She is also the former head writer for Saturday Night Live, and currently the star and executive producer of the Emmy-winning TV sitcom, "30 Rock.” Bossypants is her subtly deep book about her evolution from middle-class Pennsylvanian misfit to iconic liberal female humorist of the 2000’s. Do conservatives even have humorists?

When I first started Bossypants, I thought, well, this is funny, but it is really just a Tina Fey monologue, which is a ridiculous observation since that’s the whole point of biographies, but it felt like a stand-up comedy routine rather than your typical biography. What I soon came to realize is that Fey is really just too smart to do a straight-up story of her life. She has to weave her comedic magic by hiding her honesty, wisdom, politics and stunning intellect like Easter eggs. Granted, they were hidden like you would hide eggs from a 3-year-old, but that was the coolest part. It wasn’t in your face, but you also didn’t have to work for it. Click on Read More Below...

The Legacy Continues

SueAnn Wade-Crouse - Miss Iraan, Texas Baby 1949 and Miss Iraan 1966.

Mini Miss Texas, 2011, Granddaughter, Khloe Noelke.

Dim Sum for Dummies

Sunday the hubby and I joined Benita and Don Giller for dim sum at Chinatown, and spent amazingly little on a sumptuous and fun meal. Since it had been too many years since I “dim summed,” I performed a little pre-research, hoping to avoid culinary faux pas. What I found was pretty interesting (to me at least), so of course I had to blog about it.

Dim sum, which literally translates to "touch the heart" or “point of the heart” (depending on the source), is a Cantonese term for a type of Chinese dish that involves small individual portions of food usually served in a small steamer basket or on a small plate. Dim sum is also inextricably tied to the experience of "yumcha" or the drinking of tea. 

The drinking of tea is as important to dim sum as the food. Thank gaud I found this out in advance. I would have probably ordered a diet coke!  It is also important to pour tea for others during dim sum before filling one's own cup, which I found to be a particularly civil and sweet ritual. And a custom unique to the Cantonese is to thank the person pouring the tea by tapping the bent index finger if you are single, or by tapping both the index and middle finger if you are married, both of which symbolize 'bowing' to them.

Writing Your Life As A Woman

This is gal-friend, Dean Lofton's writing class. 

I hope you'll consider joining. Dean's one sharp cookie and I think you'll enjoy...

Writing Your Life As A Woman

A class taught in the style of journal writing workshops…

guides women to write their stories and discover their voice…

gentle encouragement in a non-academic, creative environment…

no writing experience necessary...

Summer classes:

Tuesdays, June 7 - 28, 7:00 - 9:00 pm

and

Tuesdays, July 5 - 26, 7:00 - 9:00 pm

4-week sessions meet at

Opal Divine's, 3601 S. Congress

(Penn Field, in the game room)

$70 for 4 weeks, $20 drop-in.

Dean Lofton
Writer, Publicist, Creative Strategy
Austin, Texas
512.636.1346

dean@deanlofton.com

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Look Again by Lisa Scottoline

My Memorial Day weekend goal was to read a book I wouldn’t pick out myself but which came highly recommended by someone whose opinion I respect. I achieved my goal and grudgingly enjoyed Look Again by Lisa Scottoline. You’re probably wondering what that means, or not.

The email from said-respected friend said, “Have you read, Look Again by Lisa Scottoline? If not, it's a good un' - lots of twists, a super bad guy, and a gut wrenching ethical and moral decision.” Based on that snappy one-sentence inducement, I bit and I’m glad I did, sort of.

Could I get any wishy-washier? Yes, but first let’s get the obligatory, “tell what it's about without a spoiler,” out of the way. One of those “Have You Seen This Kid” flyers arrives in single mom,  Ellen's,  mail. The age-progressed picture on the flyer looks almost exactly like her three-year-old adopted son. Things then get weird. And there’s an exciting ending. OK, back to wishy-washy:

One Hundred Things My Mother Taught Me A Million Times – Chapter 71

# 71 - “Don’t wear glasses, they make your eyes weak.” 

When writing about the one hundred things mom taught me a million times I usually research the topic de jour, and almost always find surprising scientific research supporting mom’s seemingly off-the-wall beliefs.  And then there are those days when, after looking at the Google links, I feel like I’ve strayed into the Twilight Zone! Today was one of those. Click on arrow below...

When I Googled “wearing glasses makes your eyes weak,” 83 pages of mostly wacko-to-the extreme info popped up. For example: One site claims “glasses and contact lens are merely a crutch for your eyes.” I swear, mom always said glasses are just a crutch! The site further claims, “Your eyes will therefore become lazy and weaker with time.” Mom said that too!  This site, however, was selling “pinhole glasses” that supposedly “exercise” your eyes to make them stronger. I ask you. Would you ride in a car with a driver wearing these?