No one ever guarantees anyone that a career they enter at 22 or so will be the same 20, 30 or 40 years later. When I went to J-school, it was soon enough after Watergate that half my classmates were intent on toppling a government before their 30th birthday. “I want to ferret out crooks,” a very talented colleague told me when we were both young and wet behind the ears.
He took a buyout a few years back. Not sure what he’s doing now.
Me, I like to think I’m adaptable. And so, in the great tradition of 13 reasons Washington is failing, and seven habits of highly ineffective political parties, let’s get listicle!
XX reasons Nance is blogging instead of raking leaves (I’ll fill in the number part later)
Because crazed truckers are descending upon the nation’s capital, and when I say crazy, I ain’t whistlin’ Dixie, sister. One of its co-organizers — and I’ll grant you, the connections get a bit tenuous here — is said to believe Osama bin Laden is alive and living in the White House and guess what name he’s known by now? Not Larry the Kitchen Custodian, for starters.
Because yesterday I went on a bike ride after work and picked up a buddy. Guy pulled up to pass and struck up a conversation. Turned out we were heading out for about the same place, so we rode together. He went fast, which made me go faster than I’d intended, and it felt pretty good. The conversation ranged from this to that, and ended, as it inevitably must, on Miley Cyrus. I have decided that from now on, I will defend her to all comers. I am now on Team Miley. Team Twerk. Team Tongue. Yeah, girl! You go ratchet, you! (I have no idea what that last part means. I do know her current look is something called ratchet, and it comes from African-American culture. Of course.) Also, I’m with T-Lo: I sort of like the white ensemble she’s thrown together in this two-shot critique, and her hair is downright cute.
Because this is a pretty good story, Detroit-centric, but it surely applies to parts of your town, too. You know how you’ll be traveling through a real ghetto neighborhood and suddenly come across one little house that is kept in apple-pie order?
When (Dorothy) Wafer moved to the east side in 1975, there were only well-maintained homes, she said. Today, a dozen buildings on her street are empty, including the elementary school that her three girls attended. The Detroit Future City report, a master plan for reconfiguration created by political and business leaders, designates the area for an alternative use.
Still, her mother back home in northern Louisiana’s Claiborne Parish instilled the importance of keeping her property nice, she said. The family, including Wafer’s domestic-servant mother, construction-worker father and nine siblings lived in a one-story home surrounded by cotton fields. Wafer remembers that besides corn, greens, sweet potatoes and watermelons, her mother also took time to plant petunias.
Bless Dorothy Wafer’s heart. And I don’t mean that in the southern sense.
Because I think I owe Antonin Scalia an apology. There is a devil, he’s real, and his name is Ryan Murphy, creator of “American Horror Story:”
Coven opens in 1834 New Orleans, with a vicious Kathy Bates playing Madame LaLaurie, a scheming society woman who delights in dreaming up new ways to torture her slaves. Early on, she daubs blood, sourced from human pancreas, on her face like Noxzema. In her attic, she gruesomely tortures men she keeps in cages: The camera shows us a man whose face is all but peeled off, another whose mouth has been sewed around a mouthful of excrement, and another who’s been made into a minotaur.
Because I remember Ohio, and apparently it’s not the current version.
Because I had a lousy Pilates class today.
Because it’s time to eat. Have a good Thursday, all.
I think that’s seven reasons, right?