All about me during my walk today I could see families readying their homes for Christmas. Families. Fathers stomping about on rooftops, sons untangling cords, and mothers rearranging boxes in the garage, searching for wreaths or ornaments. On Facebook and in the blogosphere people have posted pictures showing the freshly cut trees they chose, about to take home, about to decorate. I have a chicken roasting in the oven and the scent of its crisping herbed skin hugs the air inside my house.

When my children were wee, it was I who would help with the lights. We had the most obnoxious, the most brightly lit house in the neighborhood. Most people exclaimed over the palm tree, striped like a candy cane with bands of red twinkle lights, and bands of clear twinkle lights. Ostentatious, cheery, and something that gave us joy. As the kids grew older, we conscripted them, and one day it was our son who climbed the extension ladder handing up the strand to his father, rather than me. The Girl and I would be planning the way we would decorate the tree. And there would be a chicken in the oven, the scent of its cooking sending fingers into each room.

I am happier now; there is peace in my house, although it is not lit up like Santa's Village, nor is there a tree. I would rather have the peace, but oh!

I do miss those days.

I don't know how to stop the melancholy.

I go to the right park. It is exactly the right park because it is within walking distance and is spacious. There is grass, and there are trees. It has hillocks. It has wildlife: prairie dogs, interesting varieties of dinosaurs, coyote, and soccer parents. It is pleasant. I like it. My dogs like it. So it is the right park.

Sometimes, though, the wrong people go to my park.

I'm going to back up slightly and mention that this park is popular with dog owners. We're all fairly courteous -- we pick up after our dogs, we keep them on leashes unless they are so well behaved that they don't need to be, and when other people approach with other dogs, the leash-free folk are guarded and wary enough to leash their dogs if need be to avoid causing trouble.

I am going to take one more step back and mention that my son's dog, Lily, is a somewhat hyper-aggressive dog. She views pretty much every other dog as a possible threat, and she reacts by yipping and snarling. If she's off-leash, she'll charge at the other dog, nipping at them. If they react by fighting back, it can get fairly ugly. My own pair of dogs get excited by Lily and try to join the fray. It can be very challenging handling three dogs at once when they're all frenzied. You can imagine, then, that I am cautious when there are other dogs about in the park.

It's not difficult to avoid people with dogs. I stay alert. I plan my route through the park. I change direction readily when someone pops up on the horizon in my path.

One particular morning not long ago I entered the park and paused to untangle the leashes and survey the situation. I could see a cluster of people with dogs ahead of me, and some of them were leaving the group to head out. One woman with a large German Shepherd started coming toward me. I saw to my left a man with two small yippy dogs on leashes also coming toward me. I was trying to figure out the best route to take to avoid them all when, unbeknown to me, a man with a dog turned a corner behind me. Lily, already in an excitable mood from the sight of the other dogs, heard them and started charging, jumping, yipping. All three of my hooligans were soon tangling me up in the leashes, snarling at one another in their excitement and frustration and fear.

The man behind me moved away. He was not a dummy.

The man with the two small dogs veered away. He, too, was not a dummy.

The cluster of folk with all the dogs up ahead stared, but did not come closer. Also not dummies.

German Shepherd Woman, however, continued walking directly toward me. As she approached the Shepherd strained at his leash, barking. All I could do was brace, muscles straining, leashes cutting into my hands as my trio of combined 140 lb of fur and teeth and frenzy whirled about me.

I called out to the woman, "Please move away. They don't like other dogs."

She stopped, about 10 feet away from me now, her dog agitated. As she finally started to move away from me, tugging at her dog, she looked back and smiled and she said, "Well, honey, then you came to the wrong park."

Stupid woman. Stupid, stupid woman. I wanted to tell her she was a stupid woman, but all I could do was say, "No. It's the right park. I usually can avoid people like you."

For those who do not know NaNo, what it is is National Novel Writing Month: write a novel of 50,000 words starting Nov 1, and finishing Nov 30. So many of my writerly friends attempt it, and many even succeed. I am not aware of any of these novels being published, but the point is not to get them published, but, rather, to write.

I am, or was, a writer. Let me emphasis the past tense. I really do not consider myself a writer any more, simply because I do not write. Where once I'd crank out articles, short stories, the beginnings of books, now I can't even muster sufficient words to comprise a blog entry on a regular basis.

Why the literary ennui?

I'll take the tack Don does: too filled with the stuff that clogs my day-to-day living. I permit myself the luxury of holding the back of my hand to my forehead and sigh about how little "me" time I have, and how my brain craves cessation at the end of the work day, rather than stay active trying to populate a fictional world.

So, no NaNo for gekko. Not never, no. But not now.

It seems, sometimes, as though the United States is, in reality, a giant high school. It has its cliques, like the jocks and the stoners. Remember? The jocks swaggered, blustered, and got in your face. They'd use threats and fear, and they'd beat up the stoners. The stoners, meanwhile, would be all, "Hey, man, just chill, it's cool. Wanna toke?" Then they'd giggle and make off-color jokes about the jocks' sexual preferences and the size of their girlfriends' tits or ass.

This is how I see partisan politics these days. On one side, you have the rather mellow lefty-loons who use comedians as their spokes-media. Colbert, Maher, Groening, "Family Guy's" Seth McFarland, Gary Trudeau. These guys didn't just take a page, they ripped entire volumes from Twain's library, clearly.

Not to be outdone, the right wingnuts have selected the masters of froth to pitch for them. Limbaugh, Beck, Hannity, Coulter, and Malkin. Fearmongers and screechers. The world is ending! The holy of holies of the week is under attack, and only spittle can save us! It's odd, but only right wingnuts seem to be listening seriously. Moderates are hanging back, not too far from the stoners, and laughing.

I wonder when the right is going to realize how stupid they look. If they really want start influencing people, they should stop blustering and fire up their own barbecues.

The Simpsons: OMG, ground-breaking in the same way Groening's print cartoon "Life In Hell" with its irreverent one-eared rabbit Binky was ground-breaking. It mocks everything. No religion is sacred, and even atheism takes its licks. Corporations, tree-huggers, punks, rebels, authority figures, politicians, families, television shows -- nothing escapes the scythe of Groening's wit. Lurves it.

Family Guy: As long as I'm on the topic of animated television shows, I have to list this one. MacFarlane admits that Groening was a role model and since his college days at the Rhode Island School of Design has more or less striven to follow in Homer Simpson's footsteps. His thesis film serves as the predecessor to Family Guy. The mockery is similar in scope, but different in execution, however it is MacFarlane's voices that give it additional pleasure for me.

Gilligan's Island: Dunno why this goofy sitcom made such a deep impression on me, but it did. I have seen every episode more times than I can count. I'm not nutter enough to be able to quote lines from the program, but let me just say that G.I. filled up many otherwise boring afternoons. I was one of those insufferable A student types who never had to do homework at home because I did it all while at school, half paying attention to class, half doing the homework for the previous class. Since all my friends were stuck doing their homework and chores, well ... Hello Gilligan!

Star Trek: The original. I enjoyed The Next Generation, but nowhere near as much as this corny, predictable, entirely beloved series. I did not see it when it originally aired, catching the afternoon reruns, but I developed a teenage obsession with Spock and Kirk. Shatner -- before he got pudgy, and in spite of his overly dramatic approach to the role -- made me dream moist and girlish dreams. Spock was beyond cool, though. So in my dreams I was a hot, strong-willed, impulsive, yet entirely rational and intelligent star ship captain; the perfect blend of Kirk and Spock, with Yeoman Rand's and Lt. Uhuru's beauty.

NCIS: I was first introduced to this show while it was in its fourth season after a years long hiatus from television. I developed a strong attachment to crime shows, especially those that portrayed some level of forensic science and deductive reasoning. (This is why I am not a fan of the Law & Order shows, as they just set up situations and plow through them without really showing us the science or solid deduction). And along the same lines as my girlhood sighs over strong male leads, Gibbs is totally to die for. I would totally not throw him out of bed. I am going to also toss CSI (the original, Las Vegas one), Criminal Minds, and Numb3rs in here for the reasons I list above, sans Gibbs.

Dark Shadows: both the old original soap, and the brief revival series in the early 90s. Mostly the original soap with Jonathan Frid as the romantic and dangerous Barnabas Collins. I am also a fan of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp, so it was with interest that I read the following in Wikipedia:

Director Tim Burton and pop icon Madonna have both gone on record as fans of the series. As a child Johnny Depp was so obsessed with Barnabas Collins that he wanted to be him. In fact, Tim Burton and Johnny Depp are collaborating yet again to bring this series back to life. Johnny Depp will play the lead role of Barnabas. It will be director Tim Burton's next project and eighth collaboration with Depp.

Cool.

Dr. Who: The portion of the original series featuring Tom Baker, (the fourth Doctor) and then the more recent revival with Christopher Eccleston (who briefly appeared in Heroes) and especially David Tennant. Baker and Tennant both filled the role deliciously. A beautiful, yet natural seeming mix of arrogance and twisted humor that I do not feel the other Doctors quite had. I'll admit I've not seen any with Doctors six through eight. What made this series worth watching was its total campiness. It made no apologies for its cheesy aliens and technology on the cheap. In fact, one might argue that it strove for low-end in order to capture camp. Was it the illegitimate child of "Lost In Space" and "Star Trek", I wonder? I later came to enjoy the film "Brazil" for the same reason. I would like to see "Torchwood," which is a spin-off from the later Who.

But they're people. They're human, and so they are frail, and they lie, cheat, connive, take risks, are arrogant, jingoistic, bloated. Just like pretty much all of humanity as a species. And just as individuals among the species vary, so too do politicians. Some are kind of good. Some are not so bad. Some are worse.

This is nothing new, nothing surprising, but we forget it. We expect -- demand -- our leaders be better than merely human. We find it difficult to forgive them when they end up being merely human.

A few days ago in some lost conversation I mentioned that I dislike politicians. A friend said she actually liked them, which, of course, got me to thinking. Why do I not like them? They're human. I like humans. Should I not like politicians, just as a matter of course, and let the bad individuals among them stand out as not like-worthy?

Well, no. See, I form likes and dislikes based on behavioral characteristics and how it affects me. It seems to me that the very behaviors a politician requires in order to succeed as a politician and a statesman are the behaviors I find least like-worthy among humans.

For example, we all lie to varying degrees, and I am no exception. It is not a behavior to celebrate, and yet, a politician, in order to succeed in getting elected, must hone and refine and embrace the lie. He must lie without seeming to lie. He must shade, and evade, and spin. Deceit is one of the tools of his trade. Once elected, that tool is again essential as he deals with other elected officials, and with foreign statesmen. It behooves the elected official to do the best he can for his constituency. I can't really fault the politician for being an accomplished liar. We would not do well as a nation if our leaders could not or would not do this to some extent. But I don't like it.

We all manipulate. We all try to get the best for ourselves and ours. Politicians, again, must excel at manipulation and taking tactical advantage of situations, even at cost to others. Politicians must succeed more than they fail at amassing the goodies. I can't fault them for being good at it. But I don't like them, because they are good at it.

Does that make sense?

So I am unsurprised when a Joe Wilson type plots to gain notoriety and improve his campaign chances by shouting "You lie!" during a a televised address by President Obama. I figure, that's what he and his ilk do. Grandstand and make themselves known. I don't like that he did it. I don't like him, for many reasons beyond his politician-ness. But I feel pretty much the same way about President Obama, and President Bush before him, and Senator McCain and, well ... politicians in general.

They're too good at being human.

But they're people. They're human, and so they are frail, and they lie, cheat, connive, take risks, are arrogant, jingoistic, bloated. Just like pretty much all of humanity as a species. And just as individuals among the species vary, so too do politicians. Some are kind of good. Some are not so bad. Some are worse.

This is nothing new, nothing surprising, but we forget it. We expect -- demand -- our leaders be better than merely human. We find it difficult to forgive them when they end up being merely human.

A few days ago in some lost conversation I mentioned that I dislike politicians. A friend said she actually liked them, which, of course, got me to thinking. Why do I not like them? They're human. I like humans. Should I not like politicians, just as a matter of course, and let the bad individuals among them stand out as not like-worthy?

Well, no. See, I form likes and dislikes based on behavioral characteristics and how it affects me. It seems to me that the very behaviors a politician requires in order to succeed as a politician and a statesman are the behaviors I find least like-worthy among humans.

For example, we all lie to varying degrees, and I am no exception. It is not a behavior to celebrate, and yet, a politician, in order to succeed in getting elected, must hone and refine and embrace the lie. He must lie without seeming to lie. He must shade, and evade, and spin. Deceit is one of the tools of his trade. Once elected, that tool is again essential as he deals with other elected officials, and with foreign statesmen. It behooves the elected official to do the best he can for his constituency. I can't really fault the politician for being an accomplished liar. We would not do well as a nation if our leaders could not or would not do this to some extent. But I don't like it.

We all manipulate. We all try to get the best for ourselves and ours. Politicians, again, must excel at manipulation and taking tactical advantage of situations, even at cost to others. Politicians must succeed more than they fail at amassing the goodies. I can't fault them for being good at it. But I don't like them, because they are good at it.

Does that make sense?

So I am unsurprised when a Joe Wilson type plots to gain notoriety and improve his campaign chances by shouting "You lie!" during a a televised address by President Obama. I figure, that's what he and his ilk do. Grandstand and make themselves known. I don't like that he did it. I don't like him, for many reasons beyond his politician-ness. But I feel pretty much the same way about President Obama, and President Bush before him, and Senator McCain and, well ... politicians in general.

They're too good at being human.

The douche bag should be ignored.

That got me to thinking about my blogs, and the blogs I followed, and then updating my RSS feeds, and fixing some broken things in my own blog and ... It's a bit like when you go to fix a sandwich and notice that something smells in your fridge and next thing you know, it's hours later, all the contents of your refrigerator are strewn about the kitchen, you're elbow deep in suds and rags but you still haven't had a sandwich.

The reasons I have slowed way, way down on my blogging are many and include the time I now spend on Facebook. When I'm not working, or working out, or walking the dogs, or going out with friends for hot stone coconut oil Swedish massages, I can probably be found faffing about on Facebook. Nearly all my bloggy buddies are there. My old Usenet buds, too. Lots of real life friends. Family members. Cow-orkers, present and former.

Here's the deal: blogs are navel-gazing one-to-many deals. I write. You (might) come and read. You get to comment and maybe others will comment, but in the end, it's massive amounts of me versus little bits of you. While I adore that y'all're coming here to see me, it's not quite as fulfilling as it could be. If I want to go see you, I have to, well, go. See you. I maintain a "blogrole" of peeps to make it a bit easier for me to go over to where you all are, but I still have to go there. If you haven't written anything new, it's a bit of a wasted trip. If I use an RSS feed I don't have to waste the trip, but it's still something "outside" of my own blog. So my blog is contained and a bit lonely.

Facebook manages to retain that navel-gazing aspect, but becomes a many-to-many deal. I write smaller capsules. You are there already, commenting and your own capsules of self-indulgent information are all there. We have multiple conversational threads going. I get notifications of when someone has said something. The world has expanded manyfold. It's fractal living.

Nevertheless, the format is a bit restricting. My capsules of me-ness are limited. When I have lots to say, I have to say it in many takes. To edit, I have to delete the previous one and try again. Facebook has its downside as well.

Maybe there is room -- and time -- for both.

You. The young lady who shoots out of one driving aisle into a cross driving aisle. In particular, the cross aisle down which I happen to be driving:

As you pull your vehicle halfway out into the traffic, look to the left!. Caveat: if in one of those backward nations that insist on driving on the incorrect side of the road, such as the UK, obvii you'd look to the right.

I would dearly love to not have to maneuver wildly to avoid you, although I do get a small guilty bit of pleasure from the sudden expression of terror on your face when you eventually do look in the proper direction in time to see me narrowly missing your engine block.

Thank you for your kind attention.

Now, as for you ... no, dear. Not you. Him. Yes sir. I am speaking to you:

I totally get that your self image is a bit puny -- I have so been there. I understand that you derive great satisfaction from your massive, glinting, three-quarter ton extended King Kab pick-up truck with the pristine bed that has never, not once, hauled even so much as the family pet and those tires one ordinarily sees on the Caterpillar 797. I also get your critical need for the 20 lb, foot long trailer hitch -- it's so very shiny -- that has never had anything actually hitched to it! I wish you all the ego boost that you crave.

But, please. When you park your leviathan in our work parking lot? Do not pull it all the way back! Other people would like to be able to park behind you, see. In the parking spot your hitch is now occupying.

Here's an alternative. Just an idea. Park in the furthest spot out where no one else parks. You'll benefit your truck (no door dings, hey!) and yourself (toned calves and heart-health, yay!), and you can take over three spots, if it pleases you!

Thanks, dearies. Again, I am so sorry to have to have been so stern, but, really. It's for your own good.

Clues, anyone?

Nevertheless, I do have a collection of random thoughts I could sort of collect here, for the one or two of you who bother to visit this abandoned forum.

1. Starbucks is getting some competition. McDonalds started offering sugary coffee drinks for less a few months ago. In response, Starbucks has announced a scheme to reduce the prices of some of its beverages in some of its markets. Obvii, those markets would be the ones where Mickey-D's is beating them out. I'm sure. Still, a strategy I have not seen, but which would help Starbucks with their "We Are So Too Not Overpriced" image is to sell refills. Bring in your <environmentally friendly> mug and get a refill of their best burnt brew for only 99 cents! Here's the upside -- Apple and iTunes have proven that peeps generally don't think 99 cents is too much to pay for something. Heck, the Dollar stores proved that out, right? Starbucks also gets to promote itself as being "green." Yes, they're doing their part to reduce the waste from all those plastic lids, cardboard snuggies and plastic-coated cardboard cups. Cool, or wot?

2. Seriously. Chad has to go. He just must. I mean, he seems like a nice boy, but his oozy friendliness and bland charm has been suffered long enough. I was hoping, once Verizon took over Alltel, they'd have their geek chew Chad to pieces and I was way looking forward to the blood match but it just hasn't materialized. Now I'm simply hoping for a little quiet disappearing, you know what I mean? One day, Chad's there advising some kid not to put a used orthodontics retainer into his mouth, and the next, we're all not noticing he's even gone.

3. Let's go back to the 99 cent price tag for a moment, there. There are actually people -- tightwads, curmudgeons, grumps, or practical, however you want to name them -- there are people who think that 99 cents for a single song is too much to pay. Really, they're right but it's been shown to be what the market will bear. So grind your teeth if you must, and even vow to never spend that one-penny-below-a-buck on a song, but think for a moment about this: your kid, someone's kid has shelled out maybe up to $2 for only 30 seconds of that same song. Not even a hi-fidelity clip, that kid paid actual money AND air-time for download to get a fuzzy sounding snippet of the most annoying tune imaginable and you get to hear it repeat as that kid stands behind you in line and ignores his ringing cellphone. So you think 99 cents is a rip off? I've been caught between amused and outraged that the cellphone companies and the ringtone "providers" have been getting away with worse!

4. Which brings me to ASCAP, the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers, which asserts that that 30 seconds out of 3 to 4 minutes of a song constitutes a public performance of the copyrighted piece and they wants their royalties. So. You may have grudgingly paid 99 cents for the full song and you may play it on your boombox out at the park. Your kid, however, just might end up having to pay royalties every time someone calls him -- not sure yet if they're going to go for a percentage per ringy-dingy, or what. Sure, sure, they're going after the big guys -- Verizon, AT&T and you're probably all "yay! They're getting those rat-bastards who charge me too much!" but think it through first. If Verizon is going to have to pony up royalties for ringtones, they're going to pass that particular buck right on to you.

'nuf for now. Back to Facebook.

1. Lazy-butt. I haven't really felt like blogging. I've gotten lazy.
2. Employed. New job. Very busy. Brain occupied with trying to wrap itself around a bunch of new stuff.
3. Faffing about. Been spending loads of time on Facebook, doing Facebooky things. When I'm not trying to learn my new job or being too lazy, that is.
4. Netflix. Took advantage of a free month's subscription to Netflix, and watching every episode of Heroes that I can stream.

and, finally:

5. Have not gotten passionate enough about anything to want to write about it. Sick and tired of politics. Peeps around me are all screeching about how evil Obama is, but that really bores me about as much as the peeps who screeched about the evil Bush.

People can code up whatever they want to to try to sell or give away on the iTunes store. They can do their best to attempt to cash in on the rather large market ... sell a bazillion copies of your application to eager iPhone and iPod Touch users at $0.99 a pop, and you're a bazillionaire! Sure, you can code whatever you want. You have to, however, submit it to Apple's approval process before it will show up on the store site. Makes sense: Apple doesn't want an app that will do something illegal, use dirty words, nor does it want an app that will break the phone or interfere with other applications. Apple's reputation is on the line. If they let you have access to the application, then it is as though they stand behind the application, after all.

So you hear stories of people submitting applications and waiting ... and waiting ... and waiting for approval. They reportedly don't get much feedback on how the approval is going. That, too, makes sense since there are doubtless thousands of apps pouring in per week, and I'd be surprised if there was a very large team testing and reviewing them.

But here is one startling inconsistency: Apple rejected an application developed for the music group Nine Inch Nails for "objectionable content." As InformationWeek reports, "The app itself does not contain profane content, but it enables users to stream music for the album "The Downward Spiral," whose lyrics contain multiple curse words." [emphasis mine]. Front man Trent Reznor had noted that people could buy "The Downward Spiral" on iTunes.

So Apple's review team would let you virtually kill a crying baby (until someone complains), but won't let a rock band provide an application to enable fans to stream a song. That apparently made sense to the Apple peeps.

The social media world came to the rescue. Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, tech bloggers, music bloggers, podcasters all rallied and mocked Apple for this, and rightly.

Apple succumbed. The band gets to market its little application.

I doubt this will happen, but I really hope that these two incidents, the reporting of which went viral, will get Apple to review and maybe overhaul its review process. Maybe, just maybe they should include a few people who have a knack for understanding what really constitutes offensive, hurtful material, and when it's just so much farting in the breeze. (Look for my new "Farting in the Breeze" app, coming to a scent-enabled iPhone near you!)

Pictured is my right foot stuffed into a gel form called, variably, Healthy Toes™ or Yoga Toes™ or toe stretchers. I did not really do much research aside from reading a snag of the hype on a couple of sites offering these for sale. The expected yadda yadda about ancient Asian secrets although, if I recall my history correctly, a large number of ancient Asians rather preferred cramping up the feets of their women rather than promote foot muscle health.

I have, at times, had issues with my feet -- some due to the weight I used to make them bear, but also because I am a woman who succumbs to the fashion pressures of the day and I've been known to imprison my feet into those inhuman torture devices known as "pumps". Relatively high heels, teensy toe boxes, toes crushed together for hours at a time, sometimes involving lots of standing or walking.

Insane, I agree.

I do believe in giving my toes holidays, though and when at home strive to stay barefoot, or at least wear practical sandals that support my arches and allow my toes to spread, but the gooey thinger pictured here splaying my toes all skitchywammous gives me even more relief.

I like 'em. Every self-respecting sticky-toed reptile should consider using these.