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Category Archives: responsibility
Barf Boy
Even God enjoys a good sitcom every now and then. I know this because, while I haven't yet managed to syndicate my own "Debra Rich" tv show, I am a walking breathing sitcom that delights god every time he/she/they tune in. (And I'm making the conscious choice to end that sentence with a preposition.So deal.)
For as long as I can remember, people have compared the odd characters and situations of my life to a well crafted sitcom. As a student of fine television comedy, I've often thought of my life in the genre of classic situational comedies like The Dick Van Dyke show and I Love Lucy. But I have to admit that much of my current chaos feels a lot like "My Crazy Ex Girlfriend," minus the musical interludes. My soundtrack to my life isn't a bunch of clever riffs on Broadway showtunes. It is instead an annoying, ever-looping, instrumental version of "Abba Dabba Dabba Said the Monkey to the Chimp." (Longer explanation to follow…someday. Suffice to say, this song mysteriously plays everywhere I go every day of my life.)
Season 227 episode 11
I board a plane from Seattle to Phoenix where I am producing a big fundraiser gala and Cabaret for "Kid in the Corner," the foundation to which my life has become dedicated.
I am traveling alone over New Years because I cannot take care of 25 performers, a full tech staff, and oversee this important event with children in tow. While my kids (14 and 18) are older and very responsible. I chose to leave them home in the hopes of avoiding awkward family drama and distracting everyday disfunction.
All seems well as I settle into my roomie Premium class window seat on, my now least favorite airline on the planet, Alaska Air. I watch as others board and clumsily hoist their carry ons in the newly constructed overhead compartments which continue to shrink with each economical redesign. Suddenly I notice two parents, about my age, overly happy and perhaps even a bit intoxicated. They are leading two young boys, nearly the ages of mine, behind them. I notice that the younger boy, maybe 11 years old, seems a bit anxious and out of sorts. The father, a boisterous, designer clad fellow who emits the air of a realtor or other sales related executive points the younger boy to the middle seat next to me. "But dad," the kid stammers. "I don't feel so…"
"You're fine," says Pops who then pushes the older boy down in the aisle seat of my row. "You and your brother can play on your Switch. It's only a 2 and a half hour flight." Then he and wifey, whom I assume is the mom, grab a couple of exit row premium seats a few rows back.
Full disclosure, this feels a bit off to me. I leave my kids at home in order to focus and perhaps even relax a bit. But I immediately find myself burdened with someone else's even younger duo. I talk myself down though because I am not responsible for these two kids and this serendipitous situation provides me with a great chance to test out my new "not my problem" approach to life.
The flight attendant approaches shortly after take off and offers me a glass of ice water. As I reach for the refreshing liquid, young boy #1 projectile vomits all over himself, the seat, and me. Suddenly this has become my problem. We all seem immobilized as if we've been shot by some villainous time freezing weapon. After a few seconds, I snap out of my paralyzed state and call to the parents, three rows behind me, "Your kid is sick. He just threw up all over."
When dad insists "No, he didn't." I sense that this is going to be a stressful trip. Flight attendant is still under the frozen time warp spell. I snap my fingers and yell, "He needs something to clean this up."
She looks at me as if she has never encountered a nauseated traveler before. Then she reaches into the seat pocket in front of the boy and hands him a plastic, waterproof barf bag. He is perplexed but attempts to wipe up some of the copious vomit puddle in his lap and covering the seats and armrests.
I call again to the oblivious parents, "He needs help." Then I suggest to the less than competent attendant that she get some rags or paper towels. Dad arrives in time to lambast the child for barfing on purpose as the rest of us glare at him in disbelief. Next mom appears in giggly apology, "It's nothing," she assures all of us, "he does this every time he flies."
"NO HE DOESN'T," snaps dad. "He's never done this before."
"What are you talking about, hon." inquires mom, "He does this on every flight."
At this point, I feel entitled to the rage, frustration and disbelief that are flooding my psyche. Kid gets cleaned up and mom replaces his soaked tee shirt. Other flight attendants have brought over more useless barf bags and a few cocktail napkins to clean up the remainder of the liquid. I excuse myself to go throw up in the lavatory because this is BEYOND GROSS!
There are of course no open seats anywhere on the plane. So I get to stay in the stench for two more hours. Evil dad forces older son to sit in disgusting vomit seat so he can occupy the aisle seat and barf boy ends up back with mom in a clean seat.
Again, I try to convince myself that suffering is a state of mind and that I am free to choose happiness and acceptance or struggle against the reality of my present circumstance. Noxious odor makes it more challenging to remain blissful in a tightly confined airbus with vomit dampened clothes, shoes and lap top case.
I find solace in fantasizing about stripping out of every disgusting item on my person, dumping them into a soapy sanitizing washing machine cycle, and showering off this hideous film of stranger scum. My form of relevant meditation. I breath in as I imagine the hot droplets of water careening over my scalp and body. Breath out as I envision myself covered in sudsy Pureology shampoo and body scrub.
As we begin our descent, I look back at the boy and feel true compassion for this horrifying experience. I smile at the mom and begin to say something as the kid's face shifts from pink and rosy to pale and viridescent. And as he violently vomits across his mother and nearby seat mates, I acknowledge my success in creating another hilarious episode of God's favorite sitcom which I've begun to recognize as my true purpose in life.
Here's to being picked up next season!
filed under Air travel, boys, childcare, dad, lessons, mothering, parenting, parents, PNW, responsibility
tagged as Air travel, barf bag, life, middle age, parenting, parents, relationships, sitcom, travel
PNW Problems
When my kids were younger and we were living under the sunny skies of Scottsdale, AZ, I would tease them about the difference between real problems and "Scottsdale" problems. For example, a desperate cry from a naked boy awaiting a soak in our jacuzzi tub that sounded like this: "MOM, HELP! WE ARE OUT OF LAVENDER BATH SALTS," was clearly relegated to the "Scottsdale problem" list. A tearful lament that a sibling wouldn't share any of his gluten free banana pecan scone, was also quickly shifted into the "Scottsdale" category. My favorite was the "There is nothing to eat. Someone finished my salmon skin sushi roll!"
I tried to kindly explain that these minor inconveniences were not really problems for most people in the world. Real problems had to do with homelessness, poverty, world hunger and the deteriorating ozone layer which is leading the planet towards its fiery destruction.
Now we live in Seattle and I have finally realized that each and every geographic region has it's own set of hideous problems facing todays children and young adults. No, it is not the epidemic of youth suicides, the plethora of school shooting massacres, or even the long term harmfulness of rampant opioid addiction. I have found the PNW problem that is ruining our children, destroying their sense of self and contributing to the powerlessness and depression overwhelming young people today. Composting.
We dutifully have separate garbage cans for garbage, recyclables and compost. My children are avid supporters of composting and have also insisted that there are undercover refuse police who go through our garbage cans in search of an errant unwashed yogurt container or a bags of pungent pet poop, (which surprisingly is not compostable). While I have researched extensively regarding the hefty fines imposed by these "refuse regulators," I have found inconclusive and confusing reports of fines ranging from public shaming to $1 per oversight.
Since the thought of actively allowing food scraps to accumulate on my counter or under my sink was more than a little unsettling to this city girl, I embarked on a research project to find the most convenient, sanitary and bug-free method of composting I could find. I settled on a YukChuk under the sink and a small (dishwasher safe) mini bin for the freezer. I got compostable bags and explained the system to my kids.
The key to successful composting is simple. EMPTY THE BINS OFTEN. I'd love to say this lesson wasn't extremely disgusting, stench-filled and painful to learn, but that would be untrue. Once we got the proper system set up and running, I found myself being the sole compost remover of the clan. This bothered me quite a bit.
"Take out the compost," I urged multiple times a day. Sometimes I would even remove the bags and set them outside the back door for easier disposal. But my children merely saw that as a stumbling obstacle and stepped over the bags in order to avoid touching their disgusting contents of gross, moldy, food remains.
One night I emptied the compost trash and as an experiment decided not to fill the bins with the compostable green bags beside them. The next morning I awoke to find the unbagged bins filled with food waste. I snapped. "That is it," I announced to myself since I'm obviously the only one who pays any attention to me. Then I washed out the bins, dried them and hid them deep in the garage.
My younger son was dismayed about this. But I calmly explained that I was not willing to be the sole composter in the family and had unilaterally decided to revoke all internal composting privileges. He took that in and then acknowledged that he understood and believed I had made a sensible choice.
But when my 17 year old son discovered the missing bins, the fireworks began. "How can you do something like this to me?" He raved. "You are literally ruining my life!" "How can you be this cruel and unfeeling? I'm literally horrified." (Literally seems to be the word of the week in my house).
While I totally acknowledge that feelings are real and emotions are nothing to laugh at, this reaction struck me as a bit over the top. "Are you serious?" I asked. "You're melting down over compost?"
He left in a huff.
When he returned from school, he was still ruminating on my sick, twisted effort to destroy the planet. "Look mom, this is extremely important to me," he stated with clear, calm coherence. "I'd like to make you an offer."
Since I am unable walk away from this type of intriguing proposition, I say, "I'm listening."
"I will pay you for the privilege of indoor composting," He reasons.
"Hmmm," I say with an open, inviting lilt. "How much?"
"I'll give you a dollar," he proffers.
I laugh heartily and recommend he come back when he has a serious offer to submit.
"Okay," he acknowledges. "I'll give you five."
I walk away with an expression of disappointment at this lame attempt to negotiate a settlement.
"Ten?" he suggests.
Still I say nothing.
"Okay, I'll give you twenty bucks for the tiny little freezer bin," he pleads.
Since I could actually use the extra twenty, I offer my hand and we shake in agreement. "But," I add, "Failure to empty the freezer bin will result in permanent loss of internal composting privileges."
He nods in resigned assent.
"And," I insist, "This twenty is non-refundable."
It's been several months since the compost accord, and I'm pleased to report that the Gettleman household is actively composting, recycling and garbaging according to all State and local government regulations and statutes of political correctness.
filed under america, culture, green, Household, lessons, mothering, parenting, PNW, responsibility, supermom
tagged as composting, green, kids, mean mom, parenting, PNW, Seattle parenting, teenagers
As a young 20 something back in LA, there was a story on the news about a woman leaving her beloved Schnauzer in a hot car in the middle of July, only to return and find the poor creature no longer alive. I remember brainstorming with an artist pal about how we wanted to make a social statement about this kind of horrific act. So we came up with this live art installation concept. We were going to call it "Baby on Board" and we were going to glue an infant car seat on the roof of his Volkswagen Jetta, stick a life like baby doll in it, start driving, and observe the reactions from everyone on the road. We roared as we imagined panicked motorists with rolled down windows screaming and pointing at us as we sped along the PCH.
As a responsible human being and a mother of two boys who are my life, I am horrified to think that I even momentarily thought this was a clever idea. I remember back in the Arizona summers when you would hear tragic reports about busy, stressed out parents who actually left their babies in the back seat while they frantically went into an office or lunch appointment.
I lived in fear of making an unforgivable mistake like this due to sleep deprivation, "mom brain," or just some momentary lapse of attentiveness.
I often became paralyzed with grief over stories like these. Friends of mine were concerned and would ask about my overwhelming depression at those times. I would tell them that I understood how a parent could accidentally do something like leave their beloved child trapped in a hot car and only realize it hours later. For me, I lived in deep gratitude every day that I didn't make some kind of disastrous mistake like that. As a working, stressed out mom, it seemed all too easy to suddenly lose focus and watch as one by one each of my proverbial spinning plates crashed to the ground.
Once in a while another mom might nod in agreement and tell me that "she got it." But for the most part, anyone I confided in about this told me that I was crazy and that they knew I would never do something unspeakable like that. But some other parent somewhere, had done just this and had to try to live with themselves for the rest of their miserable life. It was a staggering thing to ponder. (Full disclosure, I am also the woman who recognizes how thin the line is between my happy little suburban life and a few bad financial decisions that land you in Tent City. )
I learned to not share this particular insecurity with other parents. It tended to dramatically reduce the number of mom groups to which I was invited. But I realized that I was right. Tragedy can befall any of us. And yet, most people were so afraid of accepting that reality, they simply dismissed the possibility that anything as careless and shameful as forgetting to take your kid out of the car could actually happen to them.
I tell you this story because Wednesdays are early release days here in Seattle. We've just moved into a new house to be in the right high school district (no open enrollment out here). Unfortunately, we are no longer on a bus route for my 8th grader to get to and from his middle school. So I'm back with full time driving duties and frankly, I'm seriously out of practice.
Today over lunch with a friend,I lamented my new chauffeur duties and checked my watch repeatedly, telling her I had to have enough time to get to the bank, the dry cleaner and pick up my son at 3pm. We departed around 1:30 and I popped into the bank to make a deposit.
As I left the bank, I saw I had received several texts from my son inquiring about my whereabouts. Then a few minutes later, another text came in asking who was en route to pick him up. Then finally, a text that just read, "Um…hello???"
Suddenly the reality that it was Wednesday flooded into my consciousness. I became frantic and texted him back that I was on my way. "Are you okay?" I texted. "I'm an idiot." "I forgot it was Wednesday." But nothing I could say could quell my horror.
I got to school at 1:47. He was casually hanging out under a tree reading a book. He had been there for exactly 22 minutes. But to me, it felt like 22 hours. I wrapped him into my arms and apologized over and over again. He put on a brave front. "It's okay, mom. I figured eventually someone would notice I was gone."
I took him to Baskin Robbins for ice cream and bought him a giant Hulkbuster Funco Pop. If he had asked for the moon, I would've found a way to get it for him. He played it up with his big blue eyes and sad pouty face. He was having fun with me.
I told him that this was definitely the moment that would drive him into therapy someday and to please understand and explain to the therapist that this hideous event had nothing to do with my love and devotion for him. Instead it was an illustration of my inability to do anything right as a parent and that he should never think I didn't cherish him in every imaginable way.
"You do a lot right, mom," he said, "And I love you. But it is kind of fun to have my own chocolate muffin moment." He was referring to a vacation where I woke up starving in the middle of the night and scarfed down his older brother's chocolate muffin. I've never been able to live that down. "I guess everyone has a chocolate muffin moment," he sighed.
I felt parental shame wash over me anew. But then I realized something huge. "Well, most people have those muffin moments when they're too little to fully comprehend them," I pronounced. "Luckily for you, I waited till you were 14 and had the smarts and sophistication to handle it, before I traumatized you."
It really is all in how you look at things, isn't it?
filed under Art, babies, childcare, culture, forgiveness, gratitude, guilt, lessons, mothering, news, parenting, parents, responsibility, supermom
tagged as art, babies, boys, busy mom, life, mistakes, mom, mom brain, mothering, parenting, relationships, school, school bus, sons, work
Matzah, Marvel and Maternal Remorse
"Where are you going with those?" I ask Eli, my twelve year old son, as he suspiciously tries to slink out of the house for school carrying three unopened boxes of leftover Passover matzah. "Um…nowhere," he answers. "Bye mom. Have a great day."
"Wait just a minute, Eli," I'm not ready to let this go. "Why are you taking three boxes of matzah to school after Passover?"
"I thought they were leftover." He chirps.
"Yeah… So what?" I challenge.
"Alright mom," he confides. "But if I tell you you can't get involved. Promise?"
These are always my favorite intros to any conversation with my kids. Promising not to get involved isn't something I'm apt to do easily.
"I promise nothing," I say. "Now what's with the matzah? And if you miss the bus you're walking to school. So start talking."
"I'm selling them to a friend." he sheepishly confesses.
"Selling them? For how much?" I inquire.
"Fifteen dollars," he tells me.
This is the part where I go berzerk. "Fifteen dollars? Who would buy matzah for fifteen dollars? That's insane." I grab the matzah and insist that it is not being sold to anyone. "If you want to give your friend the matzah that is perfectly alright. But you are not selling it to him for any amount of money."
"But mom, we made a deal. And you always say 'a deal is a deal.' He wagered with me willingly. I'm just fulfilling my side of the bargain"
As I delve into this, I learn that Eli has been making money on the side selling a variety of useless items to his pals who only want Eli to play more advanced PS4 video games with them. Eli has a limited number of players, and since his mother is a meanie and wont splurge endlessly on Disney Infinity and Marvel superhero characters for the PS4, Eli has had to turn to his own ingenuity to raise the funds to support his virtual reality video habit.
"Joey begged me, mom," Eli pleaded. "He just really wants me to be able to play with him and I don't have the Star Wars Battlefront Seasons Pass. Can I please go now?"
Then I pulled out my ace. I was sure I had this one in the bag. "Well Eli," I say, "If you feel that selling something like matzah, that you didn't even pay for, to Joey, or any other friend, for way more money than it's worth, is the right thing to do, then you go right ahead. Just make sure you feel good about yourself and what you're choosing to do." Ha. This was a page from any good Jewish mother's parenting book. I felt the guilt dripping off each word as it slowly and purposely rolled off my tongue. No way Eli would collect the cash and exploit a pal with this jolt of maternal consciousness infecting his psyche.
But alas, even sure things sometimes go awry. When Eli came home from school he laid down the fifteen dollars from Joey along with all of his Chanukah and birthday money and asked if he could use my amazon account to purchase his Star Wars Battlefront Seasons Pass. "Mom, I tried to tell Joey I didn't want the money," He explained. "I swear I offered to just give him the matzah for free. But he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. He insisted, mom. Really."
I reluctantly gave permission for Eli to buy the Season's Pass and have been pondering this decision ever since. I'm plagued with guilt over taking another child's money to pay for a game I wasn't willing to buy for my son myself. I am deeply perplexed about where Joey so easily scored $15. Did his parents know he was subsidizing Eli's PS4 practice? Would they think we were shameful people, taking money from their 12 year old son? Maybe they did know about it and were under the impression that we were from some sort of underserved North Scottsdale barrio. Maybe they believed their son was merely giving back to his community as they had undoubtedly modeled through their own charitable endeavors.
The more I mulled this over, the more awful I felt. But I had set this up for Eli to make his own decision and I fiercely believe in allowing your children to make choices and live with the consequences of those choices. I told him to follow his conscience and he had. Only his conscience didn't lead him to the conclusion I had hoped it would. Now what?
"Is there anything Joey wants that his parents wont give him?" I asked after a few hours of hopeless deliberation. "Maybe we can get him something, you know like a toy or a PS4 game?"
"Mom," Eli chastised, "Joey has everything. There's nothing we could get him that he doesn't already have."
"But maybe there's something he'd like that he might not buy for himself?" I pushed. "It doesn't have to be a big thing. Just something to let him know we appreciate him and his friendship."
"Well," I could see the wheels turning in Eli's head, "He really loves his gecko, Emily. Maybe we could get him something for her."
"OK, that's a good idea," I said, "What do you think she might like?"
"Hmmm…" he looked at me coyly for an extremely long moment. "I know. How 'bout a PS4 controller? They don't use joysticks anymore so Emily could play with us. I know they would both love that."
In the Disney Marvel Battleground Universe, I think I'm being set up for a gigantic Hulk smash.
filed under boys, culture, food, guilt, Jewish, lessons, love, mothering, parenting, parents, Passover, relationships, responsibility, technology, video games
tagged as boys, childhood, children, guilt, jewish, kids, lesson, lessons, love, mama, maternal, mom, mother, mothering, parent, parenting, parents, relationship, society, son, video games
When my son, Levi, was 5 years old my husband and I temporarily lost our minds and spent a ridiculous sum of money on a mini version of a Hummer for him to drive around the neighborhood. This car was totally amazing. Now that I think about it, perhaps it was part of our financially strapped, joint mid-life crisis. We couldn't actually afford a pair of Porsches or a duo of Lamborghinis for ourselves, so instead we settled on a mini Hummer for our five year old. We thought we were pretty great parents that year.
Of course as all parents, who have ever watched their children ignore their plethora of play toys and opt instead for a bevy of beaten up pots and pans to play with, can guess, Levi was not at all interested in this outrageously fabulous vehicle. We spent countless hours trying to interest him in the Hummer. But no amount of creative cajoling could entice him to set foot in the birthday mobile.
Finally, one day I was making dinner and I glanced out the window and saw him climb into the Hummer and turn the key. I was elated. I called my husband to tell him the great news but by the time he picked up the phone, Levi had exited the vehicle and was talking animatedly to himself just a few feet away from where he'd begun. I hung up the phone and raced outside to question his curiously short road trip.
"I just needed to get to the office," my five year old explained. Then, like a chip off the old block, he gently invited me to go back inside,"I have work to do, mommy."
I returned to the kitchen to finish dinner. After about a half hour of "office work," my son hopped back into the Hummer, turned the key and drove for about three seconds until he reached home and entered the kitchen. "Hi mom, I'm home from the office," he chirped brightly. At that moment I realized that no matter how good our intentions, kids find enjoyment in the activities they love and not necessarily in the ones we adults think they should. We could've bought my son a mini Boeing 747 and he would only have used it as a vehicle to act out whatever adult behaviors he was working on at the time. That's just who he was. He pretended he was a grown up and loved to mimic grown up behavior. We came to understand that it was his way of making sense of the world around him. He never played for the sake of playing. Levi is what you'd call an "old soul." He's always wanted to be an adult and we were foolish to think that a souped up Hummer would change that.
He loved sitting in my car pretending to drive. He loved acting out swim lessons with me as the student and him as the teacher. He loved dressing up like his dad and going to the office to see patients. No matter how many ways I tried to get him to drop the grown up scenarios and play for the sake of playing, kid stuff like that just wasn't in his repertoire.
He is now a 15 year old young man with a compassionate heart, a solid work ethic and a yearning to take on the world as a full-fledged adult. Levi is who he's always been so it shouldn't be hard for me to accept his burgeoning adulthood. But today as we sat in the AZ Motor Vehicle Division waiting for him to take his written learner's permit test, I found myself struggling with a different set of emotions.
I've heard hundreds of parents tell me, "Enjoy the moment. They grow up so fast." I've always found that kind of unwarranted advice to be more of an annoyance than a comfort. And I've always sworn to never unload that piece of counsel onto other parents. But today I'm wallowing in the reality that they do grow up so quickly and within what feels like a nano-second, they are ready to venture into the world without you.
As parents it's our job to find ways to remain relevant in our kids' lives. Hopefully we wont always be their primary care-givers. But when that role ends, how do we morph into something that still matters, that continues to resonate with who they are and enables us to maintain connection and purpose? The reality that kids grow up and leave home has always been there. It's just so incredibly painful when you stand toe to toe with that truth.
Levi drove home from the MVD. It was his first time driving on major roads and his first experience in rush-hour traffic. We've been practicing in parking lots and around the neighborhood for a few months so I knew he was ready to test out his developing skills.
He did a great job. Well, aside from that one turn. But more importantly, he and I are renegotiating our relationship and learning from one another about how we can navigate his journey into full adulthood while still balancing my need to be his parent and guide his growing independence. It's not always easy. Sometimes he'll erupt into a toddler type tantrum. Sometimes I do the same. I still have a lot of parenting to do. I'm not sure that ever actually ends. But we're growing up together and it's a pretty amazing journey.
filed under america, back to school, boys, culture, driving, lessons, love, mothering, parenting, parents, relationships, responsibility, Uncategorized
tagged as boys, childhood, children, kids, lesson, lessons, love, mama, maternal, mom, mother, mothering, parenting, parents, society, son
Baby you can drive my …bus
"Why aren't you at the bus stop?" I sleepily barked at my 15 year old son, Levi, as I pulled on a sweatshirt and emerged from another night of tossing and turning. "It's 6:20. I can't drive you to school. I have a breakfast meeting…"
"Mom," he calmly reassured me, "Relax. My regular bus driver is out this week. There's a sub taking his route. She's not my regular driver, but she's very nice. She has to run her own route first so she wont get to my stop until 6:42. I spoke with the dispatcher earlier this morning."
"You spoke with the dispatcher?" I asked with complete incredulity.
"Yeah," he said, "After waiting at the corner for 25 minutes in the cold last week, I decided to look into things and learned about the change in drivers. Apparently Ernie is out having some minor surgery. So Sheila is filling in. I expect Ernie will be back on Monday."
"You spoke with the dispatcher?" I muttered still struggling to comprehend the reality at hand. How is it possible, I wondered, that a child of mine could be this organized, systematic and methodical? These are not skills that I possess in any quantity. His creative spirit, sense of wonder and off the charts enthusiasm smack sharply of all things me. But this…this…unbridled resourcefulness and time management talent was his and his alone.
"Well, have a great day," I announced as I started my coffee, still pondering this amazing occurrence. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek, grabbed his backpack and headed out. "You too," He said. "Hope your day is amazing."
Two days later I had all but forgotten my son's shrewd ingenuity and was focused instead on his typical teen boy behavior; the atrocious mess in his bedroom, his laundry littering the floor, his sassy come backs to…almost everything.
"You haven't heard about my ridiculous morning," he started as I annoyedly shuffled his breakfast dishes into the dishwasher at 4:30 in the afternoon. "You know, Levi," I griped, "I'm not your maid. You know better than to leave dishes in the sink. I have more important things to do than clean up all day after you and your brother." I was frighteningly sounding like my mother and hating myself in the process.
"Sorry," he chirped casually, "It wont happen again." This was a vow I had heard thousands of times before.I took a deep breath, thought about what was really important, and said, "Tell me about your ridiculous morning."
"Well," He began, "I was at the bus stop at 6:15 today. My regular driver was supposed to be back. But there was a big Cox truck right at the corner. There was another sub and I guess she didn't see me behind the truck and she just drove right by me. So I immediately called the bus company and spoke with the dispatcher on duty. I told him what had happened while I was running to the final stop in the neighborhood. It was about a half mile away. But I ran hard. I told the guy to radio the driver and let her know that she'd inadvertently passed me and that she should wait for me right outside the back gate. So that's what they did. Of course she was
irritated when I finally got there and said, 'Next time, be out there on time.' To which I respectfully replied that she clearly had not received full explanation of the event. I clarified that I was there on time and that she didn't see me and drove right past me. 'Oh,' she reluctantly acknowledged, 'Sorry.'"
Again I was stunned by his problem solving capabilities and take-charge attitude. I had to concede to myself that had this happened to me I would undoubtedly have headed home, woken my parents, and insisted on someone driving me to school. This was a young man, unlike any teenager I have ever known, who saw a problem and instead of turning it into his parent's responsibility, relied upon his own quick thinking and inventiveness to remedy the situation. This is a kid, I realized, who can make it on his own.
That thought was both empowering and crippling if truth be told. I felt a deep sense of pride and admiration for Levi's self-reliance and strength of character. At the same time, there is a minute sense of loss when a parent recognizes that their offspring really can survive and thrive without any assistance from them.
"You're one amazing young man," I told Levi as he shoveled in the remainder of the last bag of cinnamon pita chips I was saving for myself. He looked a little like Cookie Monster with the crumbs carelessly cascading from his mouth. "Thanks," he said smiling broadly. "You're a pretty amazing mom too."
filed under boys, college, creativity, culture, Jewish, lessons, love, mothering, parenting, parents, relationships, responsibility
tagged as boys, childhood, children, family, kids, lesson, lessons, mama, maternal, mom, mother, mothering, parent, parenting, parents, society, son
I am a monster
I am a monster. It's true. I just woke up a soundly sleeping 14 year old boy and made him climb out of bed, put on some clothes and distribute a pile of laundry to its owner. What has happened to me? Visions of my mother keep floating into my psyche. I remember her wrath about dishes left lying in the sink, her frustration about my slovenly housekeeping, her utter ire about the constant state of my bedroom's distress. I thought she was an idiot. "Don't you have anything more important to care about?" I used to lament. I hated her when I was a teenager. Her life seemed…well, menial and insignificant. Why would anyone care about how messy my bedroom was or a few misplaced dirty dishes? I was convinced she had wasted her life by becoming a housewife and mother and was appalled by the choices she'd made that I swore I would never make.
Cut to: here I am in Scottsdale, AZ with two kids, a husband and a fucking house that looks like it's been hit by a tsunami. I work…outside the home. But barely make enough to pay for the internet connection. I can't stand the way my kids and husband carelessly leave the kitchen and I told my son before I left for a meeting tonight, "I will wake you up if you don't clean the kitchen and put the fucking laundry away."
So I come home and lo and behold the kitchen is clean and the stupid pile of laundry is still on the living room floor. I'm a firm believer in "mean what you say," or your credibility isn't worth shit. So I go into Levi's room, shine a flashlight on him, rip off his covers and say (in a very calm but stern voice) "Sorry to wake you. But there's a pile of laundry on the living room floor and I told you it needed to be delivered to its rightful owner. I said I would wake you up if it wasn't done. So here we are." He tried to just roll over and ignore me. "I'm not going away," I said. "You need to put the laundry away."
"Can you give me 30 seconds?" he asked in a voice much deeper than I'd expected. I'm sure in his head he was declaring me the bitch from hell. And maybe that's who I am. But I said, "Put away the laundry or I will wake you up and make you put away the laundry." I had no choice really. Think about it. How can you parent if you make idle threats? You lose all authority.
My job is to create good men out of sweet but self-centered little boys. I'm doing the best I can. But sometimes the job feels monumental.
filed under cleaning, guilt, home, Household, lessons, love, mothering, parenting, responsibility
tagged as boys, children, family, home, husband, kids, lesson, lessons, mom, mother, mothering, parent, parenting, society, sons, teen, threats
Skinny lemon drop martini
I have a serious question for you. I've been told recently that the best way to handle one's expectations is to follow the sage advice of Benjamin Franklin and expect nothing so that you will never be disappointed. That's kind of the way I live nowadays. I refer to it as the "other shoe" phenomenon. I just keep my eyes wide open and wait for the alternative sole to descend. True to fashion, it always does.
But lately I've been coached by several of my more "woo-woo" pals to "Expect a miracle," that "You get whatever you imagine," that "what you believe you make true." For a fairly negative thinker like myself, this concept is terribly troubling.
I was raised to work hard, believe in yourself and trust no one. My dad was a "Pull yourself up by your boot-straps" kind of guy and my mom was cursed with what we lovingly refer to as the "Nudelman negativity." I envision the worst possibilities everywhere. I catastrophize over each and every less than perfect happening. I literally look over my shoulder when the sky is falling so that I can always stay at least one step ahead of disaster. So the notion that my attitude creates my reality is a staggering downer.
You mean I'm responsible for creating every lousy thing that happens in my life? That makes me feel even worse about myself. If only I had seen the world through those proverbial rose-colored glasses, then I might not be…fill in the blank; in financial ruin, an emotional basket case, unemployed, etc… Seems to me that this philosophy is an awful lot like "blaming the victim."
Feeling like we are solely responsible for every peril and pitfall we encounter is not only depressing, but also completely debilitating. I mean I can only do so much to change my attitude. I see potential despair everywhere. That's just who I am. Telling myself to "think positively" is a useless exercise in futility.
I guess I could just "Fake it till I make it." But candidly, that kind of input is truly sickening to me. The truth is that bad stuff happens. It happens to everyone and it's important to keep it in perspective and not let it completely destroy who you are. But telling me to pretend that every misfortune is some kind of "blessing in disguise" is really irksome to me.
This kind of preachy Polyanna propoganda grates on me just as much as the opposite consolation in which a helpful friend seeks to buoy you by pointing out that yes, you have lost an arm in battle, but it could always be worse, you could have lost both arms, and a leg, and a head. It can always be worse therefore you should rejoice in your minor pain and misfortune because something even more horrible may be lurking around the next corner.
What is a person to do when life gives you lemons? I think it depends on the type of lemons, the amount of lemons and the size of said lemons. I mean, a few lemons, some Grey Goose and a pinch of Truvia and you've got a darn delicious skinny lemon drop Martini. But when it's pouring lemons, big lemons, and they're coming down fast and furious, you had better seek cover and protect yourself lest you risk being pummeled to death by the tough-skinned canary-colored citrus.
So I guess the upshot of all this is that you have to "appreciate what you have," and "develop an attitude of gratitude," and…blah blah blah, add whatever platitude you feel best fits. But at the same time, keep one foot grounded in reality and pay attention to the potential risks that await you.
My final advice is this: It's okay to wallow in misery every now and then. That doesn't mean it's your own fault that you've had a set-back or that you brought the bad upon yourself. Life just feels bad sometimes and you shouldn't have to pretend that it doesn't. But don't let yourself get stuck in the quicksand of disappointment and regret, because that will pull you under, fast. It's a delicate balance; one that requires time, effort and sometimes a lot of lemons before you find that sweet spot in an otherwise sour situation.
filed under alcohol, america, culture, gratitude, guilt, lessons, mental illness, parenting, psychology, responsibility, women
tagged as blame, children, expectation, guilt, jewish, lemon, lemon-ade, martini, mom, mothering, negative, parenting, positive, rules, society, women
Ode to Oxy-Clean
For my son, Levi's, 14th birthday his grandmother (AKA Bubby) took him out on a clothes shopping spree. She bought him an entire wardrobe of adorable shorts and cool t-shirts. Now everyday my son gets ready for school and looks like he just stepped out of a Macy's catalogue. (It's maybe not Abercrombie and Fitch to which most teens might aspire, but he looks great to me and feels positive and happy each morning as he strolls to the bus stop.)
Cut to: Yesterday. I'm doing the laundry. (Do I need to say that this is my least favorite job on the planet?) I do tend to scoop up whatever piles are lying on my children's floors and stuff as much as I can carry into my huge front-loader. After the 59 minute hot wash cycle I mindlessly transfer the wet load into the dryer, hit high heat and run for the computer. It wasn't until I began to unload the dryer that I realized, yet again, that my darling son had left a red ink pen in his pocket. The brand new cargo shorts he'd gotten for his birthday were covered in ink splots as was the entire dryer drum. Luckily no other clothes seem to have been affected. But I was literally sick over it.
He'd worn these beautiful shorts once. Now they were totally ruined. I contemplated how to ground him, whether to berate him, how to somehow make a valuable lesson out of the senseless waste. It's not like he hadn't made this mistake before. We've had broken pencils that have clogged up the dryer and cost us an expensive visit from the GE repairman, erasers that have stopped up the washer drain, etc… I talk till I'm blue in the face. I know the answer is to let my boys (14 and 10) do their own laundry. At least I wont be so distraught by their carelessness. But every time I try to adopt that kind of hands-off policy, I end up caving after their rooms get inundated with dirty laundry and neither of them seem to care that they're wearing filthy underwear for the fourth day in a row. I get the "Love and Logic" thing that says, eventually they'll decide to do their own laundry or their peers will avoid them because of the stench. But I can't seem to let it get to that utter point of disgust.
I tried Oxy-Clean stain spray on the shorts. My mother-in-law swears by it. But the bright red splotches didn't even fade. I figured it was hopeless. I mean I'd already washed and dried the shorts in high heat thereby sealing the ink stain into the shorts, a cardinal no-no in stain removal strategy. I showed the shorts to my son and threatened to show his Bubby. "Please don't!" he begged. "She'll be so mad at me." "But why did you let this happen?" I beseeched. "I don't know, mom," he sadly replied. "I just forget that I put things in my pocket. I don't do it on purpose."
I'd gotten my answer. I can't say that it made me feel better. But it did remind me to lighten up a little. I suddenly remembered my fourteen year old self defending my carelessness around leaving the second floor lights ablaze as I bounded out the front door for the 10 zillionth time. My poor father just standing in the doorway, a look of perplexity on his face. "I just forget, Dad. I'm really sorry." And I was. I didn't mean to hurt him or make what mattered to him seem totally insignificant. It just wasn't a priority and nothing he said or did could change that. Maybe that's the sad truth. As much as we parents try, we can't infuse our children with a sense of adult priorities and a willingness to meet those priorities. They are, after all, still kids. Eventually they'll move out and we'll miss their dirty laundry, left on lights, and unmade beds. That just seems to be how life works.
But there is an incredibly happy ending to this woeful tale. You see, I thought about dying the shorts red since they were already spotted with the deep crimson ink. At least the shorts would be wearable and the waste of good money would be reversed. But instead, in a fit of passion, I dumped a capful of bleach into the slop sink, stopped up the drain and immersed the shorts beneath a two inch layer of milky colored Clorox. When I returned the next morning, the ink spots were virtually gone! The khaki green color of the shorts hadn't faded one iota. But the ink was barely visible.
Emboldened by my Clorox ingenuity, I then started to rub out the remaining hint of stains with a combination of Shout and Oxy-Clean spray. With each vigorous rubbing, the stains seems to lighten until I truly couldn't see them anymore. What an accomplishment! I had managed to rid my son's shorts of all remnants of red ink. I felt like a million bucks. And then it hit me — hard. I am actually rejoicing giddily over a laundry accomplishment. Dear God, what has become of me? I'm a Phi Beta Kappa graduate from the University of Michigan, an award-winning journalist, an accomplished professional actor and spokesperson. But I am literally elated to have gotten a stain out of my son's cargo shorts. My, how the years change one.
The bottom line is this: No matter how hard we try, we are destined to become our mothers, our fathers, and all of the practical guides and guardians we railed against vehemently in our youth. "Turn off the lights!" "Empty your pockets!" "Don't leave the empty box of Nutrigrain bars in the pantry!" Whatever your personal bugaboo, sometimes it's easier to simply acknowledge that kids make mistakes and truly it wont be long until you're all alone in a big house, with extra closet space and barely enough laundry to do a single load. Appreciate the ink spots while you can. And yes, celebrate the small successes and unexpected Oxy-Clean triumphs with jubilant adandon. Life is too short to ignore your victories, no matter how trivial they may seem.
filed under childcare, cleaning, culture, Household, lessons, love, mothering, parenting, relationships, responsibility, supermom, women
tagged as boys, childcare, childhood, children, family, jewish, kids, laundry, lesson, lessons, love, mom, mother, mothering, oxy-clean, parent, parenting, son, stain, wife
Passover is the time of year when we Jews celebrate the Exodus from Egypt. We were slaves and then became free people. That's pretty monumental and it took a lot of wandering, a lot of soul searching and a lot of self-doubt. There were those who yearned to go back to Egypt, because that was as least a known world, a familiar fate. Sure it was awful. But like a prisoner who recommits a crime on the eve of his parole, three hots and a cot can be pretty inviting when you're contemplating a life of self awareness, choice and independent thinking.
We are supposed to tell the story of Passover to our children. Well, we do that — annually. By now, you'd think they'd pretty much have it down pat. But here we go, we're gonna tell it …again and again and again. Why is that? What is to be gleaned in the story this year, this telling?
I think I might have an answer. I think this year, with all that has transpired within my world, I think maybe I finally get this Passover story. Freedom is a double edged sword. Freedom brings joy and lightness. It also brings self doubt, fear, even anguish.
This year we have found ourselves free from the constraints of a harsh, abusive work relationship. Becoming free was painful. We suffered intense betrayals, deep anguish and still find ourselves walking the halls in the wee hours of the night because self doubt and worry keep us from restful sleep. We wonder how we will survive on our own, without the punishing security we'd grown used to. How will we take care of our children? How will we maintain our standing in the community?
Freedom doesn't come easily. It is terrifying. I've always wondered how my Jewish ancestors would have been anything but overjoyed as they raced away from Pharaoh and the shackles that enslaved them for decades. Yet here we stand, naked, unprotected from the elements, and we are afraid.
We spent less time preparing for Passover this year. In the scheme of things, Passover prep had to take a back seat. We are too busy struggling to get back on our feet, find solid ground and begin to remake our lives as free people. I feel guilty about my lack of focus this year. But the truth is, the rituals, the foods, the seder, they all seems less important right now. Because I get it. I get why we do all of it. We have been "gifted" with an opportunity to feel the truth of an Exodus from slavery. That's why we eat special foods, say special prayers and thank G-d for the opportunity to experience freedom.
I think I could skip all the rituals entirely this year. But we wont. We have family to celebrate our new found freedom with. We have children to whom we must continue to tell the story. We have each other, sometimes frightened, sometimes boldly empowered, and together we will journey forward through the uncertainty and fear.
We step into a new world of freedom, choice and self direction this year. We graciously acknowledge the family and friendships that have stood by our side through our imprisonment and propped up our spirits as we reluctantly fled from our captors.
With freedom comes responsibility; the burden to live well, to offer the best of who we are to everyone we meet, to appreciate each and every kindness afforded us. And so to all of you whose kind words, thoughtful deeds and deep love and support have strengthened and sustained us this Passover season, we thank you for making our path easier to navigate and our road more clearly defined.
We admit that the uncertainty remains scary and unsettling. But like our ancestors, going back is not a choice. We must keep our eyes focused ahead, our hearts open and our faith deeply in tact. For it is only with clear vision, love and trust, that we will emerge at the border of a promised land and will retain the insight, courage and readiness to venture into it as free souls who understand the perils of slavery and appreciate the power of liberty.
filed under gratitude, guilt, health care, Jewish, Jewish Holidays, lessons, love, marriage, parenting, Passover, physician, relationships, religion, responsibility
tagged as family, fear, freedom, holiday, jewish, job, lesson, lessons, parenting, passover, responsibility, society


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Has Camille Cosby Finally Had Enough and Now Moving Out?
The news for Bill Cosby continues to be NOT GOOD. Now there are reports that his wife Camille Cosby is moving towards filing for divorce, and is set tp leave Bill Cosby despite his ongoing case regarding sexual assault.
Radar Online even claims that Camille has moved out of their Pennsylvania home and to their Massachusetts hide away, in addition to taking the staff with her.
The reports also claim that Cosby has been allegedly pleading with his wife to stay home.
This after Cosby was found guilty in the sexual assault case against Andrea Constand and is currently waiting for his sentencing.


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Reports calls to equals() where the receiver and the argument are
of incompatible primitive, enum, or string types.

While such a call might theoretically be useful, most likely it represents a bug.

Example:

  5.equals("");

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


VFS: Can't find ext2 filesystem on dev dasd(94,0).
Ran zipl and system booted OK.
fix that is critical for upgrades *from* U1.
of s390utils (the one prior to 1.2.4-3)?
and the results of the zipl command.
Error: Cannot get partition info for bootmap /boot//bootmap.
panic on booting from the SCSI device also.
I wonder why it tries to access /dev/dasda instead of /dev/dasda1 ?
the latest quarterly update has the fixed version included).


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Zofia z Krasińskich Lubomirska (ur. 1718, zm. 1790) – wdowa 1.v. po Janie Tarle, 2.v. księżna kasztelanowa krakowska (jako żona Antoniego Lubomirskiego), ziemianka, aktywna w Konfederacjach radomskiej i barskiej administratorka swoich dóbr, filantropka oraz opiekunka swej bratanicy, Franciszki Wettyn, królewiczowej.

Życiorys

Była córką Aleksandra Krasińskiego, kasztelana wiślickiego i Salomei z Trzcińskich. Według historyka Władysława Konopczyńskiego wykształcenie jej było "przeciętne, ale w całym życiu okazała dużo rozsądku i nieraz nawet rozumu politycznego.". Pierwsze poślubiny były – jako czwarta żona – z dużo od siebie starszym Janem Tarło, hrabią na Tęczynie, wojewodą sandomierskim i generałem ziem podolskich. Po śmierci męża w 1750 odziedziczyła w dożywocie Opole Lubelskie z kluczem na Lubelszczyźnie. W 1751 już jako wdowa i spadkobierczyni jego, Zofia Tarłową ufundowała w Opolu nowy szpital.

Niedługo potem, w 1752 r. po zmarłym bezpotomnym krewnym, Błażeju Krasińskim, otrzymała część jego ogromnego spadku, Dobromil – który po latach zamieniła na Medykę – oraz Rohatyn i Werchratę.

W 1754 roku brała ponownie ślub z rozwiedzionym z Apolonią Ustrzycką rówieśnikiem, Antonim Lubomirskim, wojewodą lubelskim. Jedyne ich dziecko zmarło w dzieciństwie. Pomyślne transakcje ziemiańskie jej męża, już właściciela Boguchwały i Przeworska, zbliżyło ją do rangi magnatki. Po śmierci rodziców młodej bratanicy, Franciszki Krasińskiej i jej kontrowersyjnym ślubie z księciem kurlandzkim Karolem Krystianem Wettynem, synem króla Polski Augusta III Sasa i Marii Józefy Habsburżanki, Zofia i Antoni Lubomirscy stali się opiekunami jej, jak również w mniejszym stopniu jej trzech sióstr, co zaważyło na ich postawach politycznych w burzliwym następstwie.

Poglądy polityczne

Wywarła skuteczny wpływ na mężu który, jak wielu Lubomirskich, ciążył ku Austrii. Lecz Tarłowie i Krasińscy lgnęli bardziej do patriotów barwy francuskiej. A kwestia ordynacji ostrogskiej zbliżyła ją samą do Familii, zwłaszcza do księcia Augusta Czartoryskiego. W wirze walk politycznych w latach przed rozbiorami, starała się pogodzić postawę rodzinną, czyli poparcie kandydatury, Karola Sasa na króla z przyjaźnią, nawet może miłością dla nieco młodszego Stanisława Augusta Poniatowskiego, i mimo że była zwolenniczką konfederacji barskiej. Odpierała o sobie posądzenia o niejasnej postawie enigmatyczną odpowiedzią: "O króla nigdy nie dbałam, Nowe prawa mi się podobały..."

Napisała dwie rozprawy polityczne, opublikowane w 1770 r. Pierwsza: Uwagi nad stanem szlacheckim i miejskim w Polszcze. Druga: Projekt do porządku publicznego. Drugie pismo dotyczy reformy prawa cywilnego i sądowego. Konopczyński sugeruje że do jej niewątpliwych samodzielnych obserwacji, można dodać pewien wpływ Czartoryskich oraz jej przyjaciela i krewnego, biskupa i senatora, Adama Krasińskiego.

Lubomirska była dużo bardziej ceniona wśród ówczesnych ludzi m.in. Kajetana Koźmiana, od swoich mężów. Posiadała rozległą wiedzę, z której nieraz korzystał jej mąż. Nazywano ją "gniazdową kobietą". Była osobą gospodarną i lojalną. Ogólnie określano ją, że "...była to pani mądra, oświecona, prawdziwy i może ostatni wzór, podobnie jak księżna marszałkowa Sanguszkowa, możnych pań polskich."

Założycielka fabryki
W 1771 r. Lubomirska założyła w Przeworsku, za pomocą specjalistów zagranicznych, fabrykę włókienniczą i Jedwabiu, produkującą znane na cały kraj jedwabne obicia i pasy kontuszowe.

Fundacje charytatywne Lubomirskich

Lubomirscy ufundowali kościół M.B. Śnieżnej i klasztor w Przeworsku dla zgromadzenia ss. szarytek. Lubomirska także ufundowała w 1777 r. Kościół św. Trójcy we Wrzelowcu, parafia Świętej Trójcy w Kluczkowicach należący do dekanatu Opole Lubelskie.

Przypisy

Bibliografia

Linki zewnętrzne
 Siostry Miłosierdzia, Historia domu w Przeworsku, https://web.archive.org/web/20181122005833/http://www.krakow.szarytki.pl/?p=1132.

Fundatorzy obiektów sakralnych I Rzeczypospolitej
Zofia Lubomirska
Zofia z Krasińskich
Ludzie związani z Medyką
Ludzie związani z Przeworskiem (I Rzeczpospolita)
Ludzie związani z Warszawą (I Rzeczpospolita)
Ludzie oświecenia
Polscy pisarze polityczni XVIII wieku
Polscy filantropi
Zofia
Urodzeni w 1718
Zmarli w 1790
Żony senatorów I Rzeczypospolitej

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


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Why is Vermeer's "Girl with the Pearl Earring" Considered a Masterpiece?: An Animated Introduction
in Art, History | April 14th, 2020 Leave a Comment
Longtime Open Culture readers will have encountered Johannes Vermeer here in various forms: his paintings have appeared as animations, as the subject of a documentary, and even free for the download in high resolution as well as viewable in augmented reality. Though painted in the mid-17th-century Netherlands, the Dutch master's work now appeals to modern viewers everywhere. Most who enter Vermeer's world pass through the gateway of Girl with a Pearl Earring, his 1665 portrait of just that. What is it about that young lady against a plain black background, so much simpler an image than the detailed domestic interiors that constitute most of Vermeer's oeuvre, that captivates us?
In the TED-Ed lesson above, art historian James Earle places Girl with a Pearl Earring in context with the rest of Vermeer's work, revealing how it fits in as well as how it stands apart. "Instead of being like a set piece in a theatrical narrative scene, she becomes a psychological object," Earle says. "Her eye contact and slightly parted lips, as if she is about to say something, draw us into her gaze" — one aspect of what's made the painting's reputation as "the Mona Lisa of the North."
Though not a member of the nobility or clergy, the traditional sources for subjects of portraiture in Vermeer's day, this "anonymous girl" is ennobled by how the artist depicts her. This reflects the changing political and economic realities of the Netherlands at the time, a country that had "turned against the ruling aristocracy and the Catholic Church."
Cities like Vermeer's hometown of Delft, Earle tells us, "were unsupervised by kings or bishops, so many artists like Vermeer were left without traditional patrons." But the ascendant merchant class, driven by the innovation of the Dutch East India Company, produced new ones. These middle-class patrons preferred to be depicted with symbols of their own worldliness: maps hanging on the wall in domestic interiors, or more ostentatiously the "oriental turban" worn by the subject of Girl with a Pearl Earring. They also tended to appear with symbols of wealth of the kind almost parodied by the implausibly large pearl earring itself. "Likely just a glass or tin drop varnished to look like a pearl," the object nonetheless appears to posses considerable shape and weight" — at least before "a detailed view shows that it's just a floating smudge of paint." But what a smudge, in the beholding of which "we are reminded of Vermeer's power as an illusion-maker."
Download All 36 of Jan Vermeer's Beautifully Rare Paintings (Most in Brilliant High Resolution)
Master of Light: A Close Look at the Paintings of Johannes Vermeer Narrated by Meryl Streep
Paintings by Caravaggio, Vermeer, & Other Great Masters Come to Life in a New Animated Video
See the Complete Works of Vermeer in Augmented Reality: Google Makes Them Available on Your Smartphone
Ingenious Improvised Recreations of Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring, Using Materials Found Around the House
Meet Notorious Art Forger Han Van Meegeren, Who Fooled the Nazis with His Counterfeit Vermeers

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


text:
Posts from the '6th Round Picks' Category
Detroit Lions S, Don Carey Video Interview via Skype
My first ever interview, Don Carey, becomes our first ever Skype interview for Pro Interviews! Make sure you check it out, and go ahead and give our video a view. I also transcribed it, in-case you wanted to read the interview instead of just watch it. Don Carey grew up a Lions fan in Michigan, and in just about five games (including the playoffs) with the Detroit Lions last year, Don Carey racked up twelve tackles, and had one pass deflections. Make sure you check out our interview.
Bears LB, J.T. Thomas Interview
J.T. Thomas played college football at West Virginia. He played linebacker and while he was there he totaled 202 tackles, 12 pass deflections, 5.5 sacks, 3 forced fumbles, and 1 interception. He entered the 2011 NFL Draft, and was drafted in the 6th round by the Chicago Bears. He was placed on IR before the season started due to a back injury. He is planning on make a strong return to the NFL next year. This interview was conducted after the 2011 NFL season.
Redskins DB, Reed Doughty Interview
Reed Doughty played college football at University of Northern Colorado where he was a teammate of Chargers WR, Vincent Jackson. He entered the 2006 NFL Draft and was drafted in the 6th round by the Washington Redskins. He is known as a great tackler and has almost 300 tackles in his NFL career. He was a teammate of Sean Taylor and shares his memories with him. Check out our interview that was conducted before the 2011 NFL season.
Jets Kicker, Nick Folk Interview
Nick Folk played college football at the University of Arizona. He then entered the 2007 NFL Draft and was drafted in the 6th round by the Dallas Cowboys. During his rookie season, he earned both Pro Bowl and All-Pro recognition. He signed with the New York Jets after an interesting 2009 season. He has greatly improved his kicking since. This interview was done before the 2011 NFL season.
Titans CB, Jason McCourty Interview
Jason McCourty attended Rutgers University, and was a great defensive back during his time there. He then entered the 2009 NFL Draft, and was selected in the 6th round by the Tennessee Titans. He has been a member of the Titans since. He has been getting consistently better every year, just like he did in college. This interview was conducted before the 2010 NFL season was over. [UPDATE: J-Mac finished the 2010 season with over 100 tackles.]
Steelers RB, Jonathan Dwyer Interview
Jonathan Dwyer played college football for Georgia Tech. He was an All-American in 2008, and nominated as the ACC Player of the Year in 2008. He rushed for about 3000 yards in three years of college football. He attended the NFL Combine, after deciding to forgo his senior season, and entered the 2010 NFL Draft, and was selected in the 6th round by the Pittsburgh Steelers. This interview was conducted before the 2010 NFL season. Read more
Jaguars FS, Don Carey Interview (First Ever)
Don Carey III attended Norfolk State University and started in games all four years at safety and cornerback playing in 44 games. He was known for having soft hands, intercepting five passes his senior year. He was drafted in the sixth round, 177th overall by the Cleveland Browns in the 2009 NFL Draft. He was on the Jacksonville Jaguars in 2010 and was their starting safety. He was cut in 2011, but signed with the Detroit Lions. This interview was performed before the 2010 regular season.


text:
ETAPS 2021: 27 March-1 April 2021, Luxembourg, Luxembourg (online)
24th International Conference on Foundations of Software Science and Computation Structures
FoSSaCS seeks original papers on foundational research with a clear significance for software science. The conference invites submissions on theories and methods to support the analysis, integration, synthesis, transformation, and verification of programs and software systems. The specific topics covered by the conference include, but are not limited to, the following:
categorical models and logics;
language theory, automata, and games;
modal, spatial, and temporal logics;
type theory and proof theory;
concurrency theory and process calculi;
rewriting theory;
semantics of programming languages;
program analysis, correctness, transformation, and verification;
logics of programming;
software specification and refinement;
models of concurrent, reactive, stochastic, distributed, hybrid, and mobile systems;
emerging models of computation;
logical aspects of computational complexity;
models of software security;
logical foundations of data bases
Important dates and submission
See the ETAPS 2021 joint call for papers. Submit your paper via the FoSSaCS 2021 author interface of EasyChair .
The review process of FoSSaCS 2021 is single-blind, with a rebuttal phase.
FoSSaCS 2021 has just one paper category: regular research papers of max 18 pp llncs.cls (excluding bibliography).
Additional material intended for reviewers but not for publication in the final version - for example, details of proofs - may be placed in a clearly marked appendix that is not included in the page limit. Reviewers are at liberty to ignore appendices and papers must be understandable without them.
A selection of the best papers at FoSSaCS 2021 will be considered for submission to a special issue of Logical Methods in Computer Science (LMCS).
Programme chairs
Stefan Kiefer (University of Oxford, United Kingdom)
Christine Tasson (IRIF, Université Paris Diderot, France)
Zena M. Ariola (University of Oregon, USA)
Sandra Alves (Universidade do Porto, Portugal)
Giorgio Bacci (Aalborg University, Denmark)
Nathalie Bertrand (IRISA, Inria Rennes, France)
Véronique Bruyère (Université de Mons, Belgium)
Dmitry Chistikov (University of Warwick, United Kingdom)
Ugo Dal Lago (Università degli Studi di Bologna, Italy)
Valeria de Paiva (USA)
Jacques Garrigue (Nagoya University, Japan)
Mai Gehrke (LJAD, CNRS, France)
Rob van Glabbeek (Data61/University of New South Wales, Australia)
Robert Harper (Carnegie Mellon University, USA)
Piotr Hofman (University of Warsaw, Poland)
Dexter Kozen (Cornell University, USA)
Sebastian Maneth (Universität Bremen, Germany)
Giulio Manzonetto (LIPN, Université Paris-Nord, France)
Samuel Mimram (LIX, École Polytechnique, France)
Peter Selinger (Dalhousie University, Canada)
Mahsa Shirmohammadi (IRIF, CNRS, France)
Filip Sieczkowski (Wroclaw University, Poland)
Jeremy Sproston (Università degli Studi di Torino, Italy)
Thomas Streicher (Technische Universität Darmstadt, Germany)
Nikos Tzevelekos (Queen Mary University of London, United Kingdom)
Steering committee chair
Andrew Pitts (University of Cambridge, United Kingdom)
Christel Baier (Technische Universität Dresden, Germany)
Javier Esparza (Technische Universität München, Germany)
Barbara König (Universität Duisberg-Essen, Germay)
Anca Muscholl (LaBRI, Université Bordeaux, France)
Alex Simpson (Univerza v Ljubljani, Slovenia)


Initiated into music at an early age, Carlos Vivas got his studies in Classical Piano as well as Classical and Jazz composition in his native Cali, Colombia.
At the age of 13, he started playing and composing music for a wide range of musical styles, specializing in Classical, Jazz, Latin Jazz and Salsa Music. In the salsa realm, he was a member of one of the world's most prominent and popular musical groups, "El Grupo Niche" of the well-known salsa music lyricist Jairo Varela.
During 1995-96 Carlos built his own recording studio, and began his stage as a musical producer, having big success thanks to his particular style and musical richness, becoming one of the most wanted musical producers in the Latin music business.
In recent years he began his career as a film composer, scoring several feature films, short films, trailers and TV commercials.
At the present time, he is living in Los Angeles where he has composed music for more than 40 independent features and shorts. Carlos' music is always driven by such a tremendous artistic versatility, and a unique color surrounds each and every musical note he puts in his scores.
Carlos is also a talented animator (2D & 3D) He has produced several animated shorts including his award wining "Gas Station".
click here to see some more animations.
Directed by: Vito Trabucco, Jessica Soneborn, Richard Galli, Matt McWilliams.


The Ranger jersey is arguably the best bang for your buck in the world of trail jerseys. We have worked hard to maintain many of the performance and aesthetic qualities found in our premium jerseys but offer it at a more affordable price point. The result is a timeless, do it all mountain bike jersey that is one of our best selling products year after year.


Voted as the #1 College Town in America, Manhattan is a special place, not only for students from all over the country and world, but also visitors. You do not have to be here too long before experiencing the family environment that everyone talks about with people who genuinely care.
Manhattan is the fastest growing metro in the state and Riley County is among the top 20 nationally in economic growth. Being a Wildcat and a part of the K-State Family is truly a great experience for anyone.
Below is a list of dining options and attractions in Manhattan, Kansas for visitors to enjoy during their stay.
Soulful small plates with a bakery in the back.
British Pub House serving authentic British cuisine.
Full range menu served in the heart of Aggieville.
Hand-crafted beers with Certified Angus Beef.
Home of the Cowboy Challenge and raspberry black bean dip.
Brewpub serving American cuisine with a modern twist.
No. 1 family friendly eats.
Voted "Best restaurant in Kansas" by Business Insider.
Deli and drinks served in a kitschy retro atmosphere.
Fresh baked artisan breads and locally roasted coffee every day.
Serving up fat and fluffy donuts in Aggieville.
Wood fire grill and cantina.
Mexican street food with a modern twist.
Known for their famous sweet tea.
Bar and grill chain serving pub grub, burger and wings in a modern space in Aggieville.
Breakfast cafe serving dishes from frittatas to PB&J pancakes in a casual atmosphere.
Famous for their Vista burger and ice cream delights.
Flatbreads and cocktails served in a cool, sports-themed space with outdoor seating.
Ice cream, deli and specialty shop located on K-State's campus.
Five miles south of Manhattan and set in the scenic Flint Hills, the Konza Prairie is 3,487-hectare of untouched native Tallgrass prairie.
A dynamic tribute to the Tallgrass Prairie and the Flint Hills that surround Manhattan. With more than 7,000 square feet of exhibit space, visitors explore how settlers and pioneers encountered shallow soils, forcing them to create new uses for a new land. Guests partake in the immersive exhibits, visit the gift shop or take in a panoramic view of downtown Manhattan from the outdoor terraces.
The KSU Gardens is a horticulture display garden that has been established as an educational resource and learning laboratory for K-State students and the visiting public. It is a privately funded project, located on the campus. The KSU Gardens is designed to show hardscape and tested ornamental plant material in different aesthetic settings.
Founded in 1933 by the Manhattan Parks and Recreation Board, the Sunset Zoological Park has been a cultural and educational asset to the community for more than 80 years.


After being in free-fall over the past few weeks, stocks have turned positive on Friday after a string of upbeat readings on the economy, particularly regarding labor, industrial production and housing starts. Also, global central banks seemed poised to "grease the wheel" with more stimulus. Domestic stocks are in the beginning of earnings season and so far, over 60% have exceeded earnings projections.


Ailleron, a Krakow-based fintech company, which in 2013 implemented a LiveBank virtual branch at mBank under the name of Ekspert Online (Online Expert), enriched it with new, useful functionalities. Recently, the bank's customers have been able to communicate with the Experts via a video channel, even when using their mobile devices, and the bank's employees are supported by artificial intelligence.
Ailleron's flagship product, LiveBank Virtual Branch, was launched at mBank five years ago under the name of Ekspert Online (Online Expert). The new customer service channel quickly gained popularity, and its skillful use and opportunities that it offers were recognized and rewarded at Finovate conferences in New York and London.
Currently, in connection with the development of the system, the bank has decided to implement additional functions that both support the work of the Expert and help the customers.
Initially, Ekspert Online was available only in desktop browsers, enabling secure video, audio and chat conversations, customer authentication and authorization of transactions during an ongoing call. Efficient and interactive collaboration was supported by features such as screen sharing, document presentation, predefined links and graphical tools. All interactions in all forms of communication are recorded and archived.
Recently, Ailleron has integrated the system with the bank's mobile application, enabling customers to use the Ekspert Online service on their iOS and Android mobile devices. Additionally, the communication module has been enhanced with a "continuous" chat function, known from popular communicators, such as Facebook Messenger. This allows both the customers and the bank to store the entire conversation history in chat, along with uploaded materials and links, giving the customer the feeling of a "continuous connection" with the Expert and the ability to send questions even when the Expert is not available. On the other hand, the bank's advisor has access to the information sent earlier and can, for example, change the type of the call to video at the customer's request.
Market trends in recent years indicate a clear increase in the popularity of mobile channels as a place where it is possible not only to communicate, but also to carry out an increasingly wide range of transactions, which so far were only available by calling the bank on the phone or during a visit to a brick-and-mortar branch. Instant messaging apps, such as Messenger, WhatsApp and Hangouts, have become an inseparable part of everyday communication. Having the above in mind and following the strategy of building the best possible customer experience in contact with mBank, we decided to enable our customers to contact our Online Expert using a video channel and chat via our mobile application. We paid a lot of attention to the chat so that its functionalities would reflect the experience that our customers see every day, for example when they are using Messenger to communicate with others. Conversation history and notifications about incoming messages are only some of the many solutions implemented as part of the project, carried out in cooperation with Ailleron. Very positive feedback from our customers1) shows us that we have taken the right path, which in turn poses additional challenges for us in terms of further product development.
The growing popularity of communication via chat, along with the ever-growing expectations of customers with regard to the transactions they can carry out using this channel and the shortest possible waiting time for getting through to the agent, are challenges faced not only by mBank, but also the entire banking sector. That is why, in 2017, mBank's Data Scientist Team started working on development of an intelligent assistant, whose task is to support the agents during conversations with customers during the chat. The result is mAIA, an artificial intelligence that creates the potential to meet these challenges by automating the handling of parts of customer interactions. Thanks to the cooperation with Ailleron, the new solution was successfully implemented in 2018 at mBank's Contact Center.
I am glad that we can develop and implement the most innovative solutions in the market together with mBank. Our long-term cooperation has been a great adventure, and I am very glad that we have our little share in the recognition of mBank as one of the most innovative banks in the world. At Ailleron, we are constantly looking at the global banking market in order to best adapt our platform and its capabilities to the requirements of banking customers. I am quite certain that we will have an opportunity to present many more breakthrough solutions to the world.
Cooperation with Ailleron, a company open to new challenges, actively adapting to the changing market environment, gives us a unique opportunity to build a new quality of service in CC channels. We are glad that throughout subsequent years of cooperation, new ideas and challenges emerge, which we can develop and implement together, building a friendly, accessible and professional point of contact for mBank customers, which they can use to deal with every issue they have.
For years, mBank has been synonymous with innovative banking solutions, being the first fully on-line bank in Poland, setting the direction for the development of mobile and on-line banking. The mBank Group is the fourth largest financial institution in Poland in terms of assets, offering retail, corporate and investment banking and other financial services, such as leasing, factoring, commercial real estate financing, brokerage, wealth management, corporate finance, capital markets consulting and insurance distribution.
In 2017, the growth of mBank's customer base was almost entirely organic, reaching 5,342,000 retail customers and 22,048 corporate customers.
Historically, mBank has developed its business on the foundation of corporate banking. Since its establishment in 1986, the Bank has provided services to the largest Polish companies engaged in foreign trade. In 2000, mBank started its operations in the retail segment, creating the first fully on-line bank in Poland. Since 2001, mBank has also been operating in the traditional retail banking market, offering a wide range of products and services to affluent customers and small companies expecting access to high quality, personalized services at its branches. mBank is the only Polish bank to successfully replicate its business model developed in the country on foreign markets, after starting retail operations in Czechia and Slovakia in 2007.


New Jin Shing offers authentic and delicious tasting Chinese cuisine in Brooklyn, NY. New Jin Shing's convenient location and affordable prices make our restaurant a natural choice for dine-in, take-out meals in the Brooklyn community. Our restaurant is known for its variety of taste and high quality fresh ingredients. Come and experience our friendly atmosphere and excellent service.
We only take CASH ORDER.


text:
package com.spotify.heroic.metric.bigtable.credentials;

import static com.google.common.base.Preconditions.checkNotNull;

import com.fasterxml.jackson.annotation.JsonCreator;
import com.fasterxml.jackson.annotation.JsonProperty;
import com.spotify.shaded.bigtable.com.google.cloud.bigtable.config.CredentialOptions;
import com.spotify.heroic.metric.bigtable.CredentialsBuilder;
import lombok.ToString;

@ToString(of = {"serviceAccount", "keyFile"})
public class ServiceAccountCredentialsBuilder implements CredentialsBuilder {
    private final String serviceAccount;
    private final String keyFile;

    @JsonCreator
    public ServiceAccountCredentialsBuilder(
        @JsonProperty("serviceAccount") String serviceAccount,
        @JsonProperty("keyFile") String keyFile
    ) {
        this.serviceAccount = checkNotNull(serviceAccount, "serviceAccount");
        this.keyFile = checkNotNull(keyFile, "keyFile");
    }

    @Override
    public CredentialOptions build() {
        return CredentialOptions.p12Credential(serviceAccount, keyFile);
    }

    public static Builder builder() {
        return new Builder();
    }

    public static class Builder {
        private String serviceAccount;
        private String keyFile;

        public Builder serviceAccount(String serviceAccount) {
            this.serviceAccount = checkNotNull(serviceAccount, "serviceAccount");
            return this;
        }

        public Builder keyFile(String keyFile) {
            this.keyFile = checkNotNull(keyFile, "keyFile");
            return this;
        }

        public ServiceAccountCredentialsBuilder build() {
            return new ServiceAccountCredentialsBuilder(serviceAccount, keyFile);
        }
    }
}


text:
Chevron's Disaster at Home
Paul Paz y Miño
In case anyone didn't get the message that Chevron has a reckless attitude with regard to environmental safety and responsibility, the explosion and fire Monday night at its refinery in Richmond, California – and Chevron's rhetorical stonewalling since then – have provided a smoky, toxic answer.
The disaster caused government officials to issue a "shelter in place" order for hundreds of thousands of nearby residents. It also worsened local residents' already abysmal view of the company.
At a community meeting Tuesday night, Chevron officials' bluster was met by outrage:
In a rowdy expression of frustration and anger, more than 500 residents crowded into Richmond Memorial Auditorium, where people shouted down Chevron and Contra Costa County public health officials on hand to answer questions about the accident.
The question asked most often was, "What are we breathing?" Residents were repeatedly unsatisfied each time a public health official said inspectors didn't know because they were still analyzing the data.
(...) Often when Chevron refinery General Manager Nigel Hearne spoke, he was met with extended boos and catcalls of "liar!" Residents held signs that read, "How many more 'accidents'?" and "Chevron out of Richmond."
The city of Richmond lies only 15 miles as the crow flies from Chevron's leafy corporate campus in affluent suburb of San Ramon. But it might be worlds away. Local community organizations that have participated in the True Cost of Chevron network said that Tuesday's disaster is symptomatic of a long record of pollution and lies in the largely industrial, low-income city.
Check out the Ella Baker Center's call to action, and join them and us in insisting that Chevron come clean in Richmond.
Tell Chevron's CEO to Finally Clean up Ecuador!
Dirty Energy


text:
Groningen je najveći i glavni grad nizozemske pokrajine Groningen. Groningen je najveći grad na sjeveru Nizozemske i značajan sveučilišni centar.

Povijest

Najstarija arheološka nalazišta na prostoru Groningena datiraju iz mlađeg kamenog doba (oko 3950. g.p.K). Prvi dokumenti koji spominju Groningen datiraju iz 1040. godine. U 13. st. je Groningen bio značajan trgovački centar i sagrađene su gradske zidine. U 15. st. je Groningen bio glavni grad pokrajine Frizije. Tada je sagrađen 127 m visok toranj Martini koji je u to doba bio najviša građevina u Europi.

Od 1594. je grad izgubio samostalnost i postao dio Nizozemske. Sveučilište je osnovano 1614. Nakon toga se grad jače razvio. Napadnut je u Trećem anglo-nizozemskom ratu 1672. Na samom kraju 2. svj. rata 1945. je došlo do Bitke kod Groningena u kojoj je sudjelovala kanadska intervencijska vojska koja je pobijedila njemačke snage uz pomoć nizozemskog pokreta otpora.

Zemljopis

Groningen se nalazi na sjeveru Nizozemske. Smješten je nedaleko od obale Sjevernog mora. Reljef je nizinski i prevladava pješčano tlo. Oko grada postoji nekoliko jezera (najveće je Paterswoldsemeer južno od grada). Kroz grad je prokopano nekoliko kanala (najznačajniji je Van Starkenborghkanaal). U okolici ima mnogo nalazišta prirodnog plina.

Klima je umjerena s toplim ljetima i blagim zimama i relativno malim godišnjim razlikama temperature. U proljeće i ljeti pada više padalina.

Znamenitosti

Najvažnija znamenitost je srednjovjekovni toranj Martini koji je u svoje doba bio najviši u Europi. Zanimljive su zgrade Sveučilišta Groningen. Značajan je Groningenski muzej građen 1994. u modernom stilu. Značajan je Znanstveni muzej i muzej stripova. Stanovnici Groningena mnogo koriste bicikle (preko polovice gradskog prometa se obavlja biciklima). Zato se Groningen naziva "Svjetski biciklistički grad".

Gradovi prijatelji

  Graz, Austrija
  Jabalya, Palestina
  Kaliningrad, Rusija
  Katowice, Poljska
  Murmansk, Rusija
  Newcastle, Ujedinjeno Kraljevstvo
  Odense, Danska
  Oldenburg, Njemačka
  San Carlos, Nikaragva
  Tallinn, Estonija
  Tianjin, Kina
  Zlín, Češka

Gradovi u Nizozemskoj