Hard Earned Policy Lessons

I recently finished Rory Stewart's Places in Between, a book chronicling his 600 mile walk across the width of Afghanistan (from Herat to Kabul). The story itself is interesting for the sheer adventure of walking across a foreign country alone, just weeks after the fall of the Taliban, across an inhospitable moutainous terrain in the winter.

But the book is really more than just a travelogue, providing interesting insights into a country that most Americans know little about, despite the fact that we have committed resources to invading and "democratizing" the nation. While our "defeat" of the Taliban may be perceived by us as a victory for democracy over terrorism, it is just another of a series of violent conflicts that the Afghans have endured for decades. There is no joy among the remote Afghan villagers for the Taliban defeat, as they struggle with illiteracy, drought, famine, and demographic and economic destruction from previous foreign and domestic conflicts.

What I found most enlightening about Stewart's insights was the complex interactions among harsh geographies, competing ethnic rivalries, and feudal social classes that make it difficult to even conceive of "nationhood" or "democracy" in the isolated mountain villages that comprise much of Afghanistan. The priorities and loyalties of most rural Afghans are so far removed from those articulated by American politicians or even American-supported leaders in Afghanistan. It's unfortunate that Stewart couldn't have taken Condoleeza Rice, Donald Rumsfeld, or even Hamid Karzai along with him.

Job Perks

On my way home today, I stopped by the local drugstore to pay $1 more than I should for a gallon of milk because I didn't feel like driving to the grocery store. I do this often. This particular drugstore is always empty and the folks who work there are a bit off, though friendly. Today, however, I really think the cashier was high. And I don't mean a mild buzz, I mean flying high. The evidence:

• sweating profusely (yes, it's 95 degrees today but the store is air-conditioned)
• bouncing behind the counter (in Tigger-like fashion)
• talking a mile a minute without stopping to take a breath
• jittery hands

Since I'm not adverse to confrontation, I actually had my mouth open to say: "Dude, what are you on? You know you're not supposed to sample the pills behind the pharmacy counter." I stopped myself, though, because I caught a glipmse of the store manager hanging around the counter and I didn't want to get the guy fired, just in case my assessment was wrong. However, I suspect that the manager and I were thinking the same thing.

The Hook

Whew! I'm struggling to finish an article by the end of August and I was having a hard time putting it all together. I had an interesting idea and good data, but it just wasn't hanging together. Then, as I was watching MTV's Making the Band 3*, I realized that I was missing the hook -- the catchy tune that pulls everything else together and sticks in your head long after the song is over. So, thankfully, yesterday I found the hook for my paper and it's starting to come together nicely. The academic hook is not quite as captivating as the musical one, so I doubt I'll get my own reality show on MTV anytime soon, but perhaps it'll help with tenure.

*Okay, I don't really know why I watch this show. It's quite dull, but then so is everything else on tv this summer. I admit that I am interested in Diddy's business sense since he has built quite an impressive little empire, but he's not really on the show much. If you tape the show and the watch it skipping the commercials, then it's only about 10 minutes long, so I don't feel too guilty about wasting time on this fluff.

From the Mouths of Babes

Abby, my 3-year-old niece, was visiting this weekend. I have always adored this child, but I find her especially fun at this age.

Here are a few of my favorite things about three-year-olds, as illustrated with quotes from Abby.

1.) Their insatiable apetite for knowledge and eagerness to share it.
Abby: "Mrs. Crab (her pet hermit crab) is nocturnal. That means she's up at night and sleeps during the day."

2.) Their unbridled displays of affection.
Abby: "Hershey (our 120-pound Rottweiler), you're my best friend in the whole world."

3.) Their sense of purpose.
Abby: "Let's get this show on the road."

4.) Their frank assessments.
Abby: "Ciocia (Auntie) Janet, there's a whole lotta sassy in me right now."

5.) Their cute nicknames.
Abby: "Hey, Uncle Big Boy (Eddie)" or "BooBoo Doggie" for our 11-year-old Beagle/Shepherd mix because over a year and a half ago Brittany had stiches on her head and Abby still remembers that.

6.) Their simplicity.
Abby: "Can we move next door (to Ciocia Janet)? We can bring Tank and Sauce (her fish) and Mrs. Crab too."

Fearless Leaders

Bush and Putin have given a whole new meaning to the phrase "fearless leaders." After Putin puts his lips on a child's stomach in public (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nd2Z3nXnLD0), Bush tries to one-up his Eastern counterpart by molesting the only female head of state at the G8 conference (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUTwaSPcGno). How can you get so far in a political career and still be so clueless about how to behave in public? Does being powerful give you license to be creepy too? I hope their wives slapped them when they got home.

Awkward Metaphors

I'm getting ready for the academic conference cycle, which for me begins with the sociology meetings in August. I always have mixed feelings about these conferences. They're important for professional reasons, but socially they can be intimidating, embarrassing, and sometimes painful. I love seeing good friends and sometimes enjoy meeting new people, but I also dread the numerous socially awkward moments. ASA is the most uncomfortable meeting for me, probably because of the strong negative associations from grad school that seem to be dissipating very, very slowly with time.

I came across Sarah Vowell's funny description of her own social awkwardness as I was beginning to read Assassination Vacation:

"But when I'm around strangers, I turn into a conversational Mount St. Helens. I'm dormant, dormant, quiet, quiet, old-guy loners build log cabins on the slopes of my silence and then, boom, it's 1980. Once I erupt they'll be wiping my verbal ashes off their windshields as far away as North Dakota" (p. 4).


I can't completely relate to the Mt. St. Helens metaphor. Rather than a volcano, I'm more like a fumarole. Rather than a full blown explosion of verbiage, I'm much more likely to emit a short burst of sarcasm or perhaps a quiet snide remark that sort of lingers over the conversation.

(That reminds me ... I should scan our honeymoon pictures from Yellowstone. There are some great geysers and fumaroles in those photos.)

Ticky-Tacky Houses

I'm excited about the upcoming second season of one of my favorite tv shows, Weeds. I was hooked on the show when I first saw the title sequence and heard the theme song Little Boxes by Malvina Reynolds (1963). The song is a bit annoying, but the words perfectly sum up how I feel about suburbia. "And they're all made out of ticky tacky, and they all look just the same."

The show is witty and sarcastic and focuses on the hypocrisies of living in the "perfect suburb," the least of which is the drug-dealing, recently-widowed single mom. Mary Louise Parker's dry humor is perfect for this role.

I went to the Showtime website to catch the preview to season 2 and found some funny behind the scenes clips. I especially liked "Top Signs Your Neighbor is Dealing." I could make my own clip called "Top Signs Your Houseguest is Growing Pot in Your Guestroom." Seems like only yesterday that I found those little plants in my closet ...

The Missing Pages

For those of you who need proof of my obsessive-compulsive tendencies, I am happy to oblige.

I've been reading Diana Gabaldon's historical fiction series Outlander for several months now. I just finished book 5 of the 6 book series. Each of the books is several hundred pages long. I borrowed book 5, The Fiery Cross, from the Albany Public Library. It's 992 pages long. When I got to about page 950, I realized that the next 20 pages were missing from the book. I didn't enjoy this book as much as the previous ones and, frankly, by the time I hit page 950 I was ready to be done with it, so I just kept reading the pages that were there until I got to the end. Unfortunately, the missing pages involved a major plot line, but essentially I was able to figure out what I missed. Or at least I think I did.

I am now obsessed with the missing 20 pages. What if something happened in those 20 pages that would change my interpretation of the ending of the book? What if those 20 pages would have made the whole book worth the effort of reading it? Can I go on to read the book 6 without really knowing what happened in those 20 pages? The rational side of my brain says that I should just let it go. Twenty pages out of 992 is only 2% of the book. And yet ... I can't stop thinking about those 20 pages!

Even More AI Mediocrity

As if I needed more proof of mediocrity in the music industry, Kellie Pickler now has a record contract (http://blogs.usatoday.com/idolchatter/2006/07/kellies_officia.html). Have we already forgotten how she butchered most of the songs that she sang? And, honestly, the calamari-type comments were just not that cute.

Truly Bad Behavior

Okay, so I was trying to avoid blogging about the World Cup. I enjoyed watching some of the matches, but I'm not a serious soccer fan and I feel out of my element talking about it.

However, I just can't let the head-butting incident go without comment. So a grown man, team captain nonetheless, head-butts an oponent during a World Cup match. No, no, this didn't happen at your kid's Saturday soccer game. These were professionals!

As if the act itself wasn't absurd, childish, embarrassing, etc., his rationale for the bad behavior is priceless. The Italian opponent apparently insulted Zidane's mother and sister, thereby provoking Zidane's behavior.

"There was a serious provocation," Zidane said. "My act is not forgivable. But they must also punish the true guilty party, and the guilty party is the one who provokes."
(http://www.usatoday.com/sports/soccer/worldcup/2006-07-12-zidane-apology_x.htm)

Uhhhh, really? I would say the true guilty party is the adult who head-butts! Really!!! ARE YOU FIVE?!?!?!

I suppose there is some justice in that Italy beat France in a penalty shootout, but then Zidane received the best-player award. Or was that the best head-butt award?!?!

(Photo by premasagar obtained from Creative Commons.)

Peddling Mediocrity

I admit that I'm a fan of American Idol. It's not exactly compelling TV, but it's entertaining nonetheless. While there are some really talented people on the show, there is also an awful lot of mediocrity. As Simon Cowell says, lots of people can sing, but not every good singer can be an idol. You have to do more than stay in tune if I'm going to shell out $15 for your CD.

So today I was reading the USA Today AI blog and learned that Constantine Maroulis is doing a solo tour. Huh? Really? I'd love to know who is paying money for that. He's not that talented and certainly not that good looking, especially compared to this year's contestants. So really, I'd like to know who would actually go to his show.

The same blog also reported that Katherine McPhee's single isn't selling so well. Apparently it's even worse than Diana DeGarmo's. Wow, that's embarrassing. Again, she can sing in tune and she's cute but ... I still can't bring myself to care when she sings. And who really thought it was a good idea to build a career on the 1930s song Over the Rainbow. That doesn't exactly scream young, hip, and talented. Oh, but it was the only song she could sing consistently over several months of competition. Well, it's no doubt that some smart record execs are cashing in on peddling mediocrity, but who is spending money on this drivel?

89 Years and Counting

Today is my mom's 89th birthday. She isn't so thrilled with getting older since her body has been failing her lately, but nonetheless I'm amazed by her age. Since she is two generations older than me (because I am adopted), I sometimes have to remind myself of how different the world is now compared to what she experienced in her lifetime. Here's some perspective on my mom's life:

Interesting things that happened in 1917 when mom was born:

• The Bolshevik Revolution brings Communism to Russia
• Puerto Rico becomes an American territory
• First jazz record recorded (Dark Town Strutters Ball)
• Seattle is the first team to win the Stanley Cup
• Jeannette Rankin becomes the first woman member of US House of Representatives
• U.S. enters WWI
• Raggedy Ann doll invented
• Boys Town founded by Father Edward Flanagan in Nebraska

Interesting things that happened when mom was my age (35) in 1952:

• First black umpire in organized baseball certified (Emmett Ashford)
• First hydrogen device exploded at Eniwetok Atoll in Pacific
• First TV acknowledgement of pregnancy (I Love Lucy)
• Mr Potato Head is first toy advertised on television
• Poland adopts Communist-imposed Constitution
• Clarence Birdseye sells first frozen peas
• False fingernails first sold

(Factoids from the Today in History web site.)

And since today was the men's final of Wimbledon, where Roger Federer won his 4th consecutive title, the first Wimbledon tournament was held on this day in 1877.

My Dog Needs Therapy

Brittany, our 11-year-old Beagle/Shepherd mix, is deathly afraid of firecrackers, fireworks, thunder, and another other kind of loud booms. Needless to say, she is not a fan of the 4th of July holiday. While we sympathize, her hiding routine is getting a bit old. It's now July 9, there are no more fireworks around here, and she still refuses to go outside after 5pm. Here she is sitting on her "couch" ignoring my calls to go outside and she has enlisted Daphne's protection. I haven't yet seen an episode of the Dog Whisperer that deals with this issue, but if I lived in California I would be calling Cesar!

The End of an Era

Not surprisingly, Stevie Y. has announced his retirement from hockey. While we all figured it was coming, it's still a bit sad. Though I've been watching the Wings since I was really young (with Dad on the old B&W t.v.), I can't really remember a season without Yzerman. Not only was he a remarkable athlete, but a strong if understated leader, and a great face for the struggling city of Detroit. While I'm sure that his departure from the ice will open up opportunities for other players, it's really hard to imagine the team without him.

This news comes on the heels of Andre Agassi's announcement that he'll retire from tennis this year after 20 years as a pro. And today Martina Navratilova announced that she is also turning in her racket (again). Three of my favorite athletes are calling it quits. It makes me feel a little old.

I Am a Slug

Okay, I'm not proud of this description, but it's an accurate one of how I spent the holiday weekend. After spraining my ankle Thursday night, I was determined to make good use of my immobility. Although I did quite a bit of reading, I didn't do much of anything else that I had planned to do, including updating this blog. I spent a considerable amount of time watching Wimbledon and playing CivIV and now I feel like a complete slug. I'm trying to shake off the fuzzy cloud of laziness surrounding me and get back into a productive mode. So far, it's not going well.

BTW, props to Corey for warning me about the addictive dangers of CivIV. If only I had listened!