Sometimes, people send us mean letters. But we get nice ones, too! The photo above and note below came from “a fireman in a city that you’ve heard of”:
Sometimes our job takes us to some interesting places. Last week, I found myself 25 stories high, on the roof of an 80-year-old hotel. I saw this graffiti and thought of you guys. How did the artist get here? (The roof was virtually inaccessible). What happened to make him stop loving her? There was other graffiti there, the usual stuff — misspelled obscenities and accusations of coworkers’ sexual leanings, but this piece definitely stood out. Hope you find the picture useful, and thanks for making such an interesting website. — some guy who reads your blog every now and then
Have you seen graffiti that’s kind of sweet (even if it is against the law)? Send your pic to firstname.lastname@example.org. Keep reading »
Last night’s episode of “The Bachelor,” and more specifically, the “After The Final Rose” special, hit close to home. After all, I was engaged, and then overnight my fiance decided he needed to go on a break, which was really him dumping me without saying so and looking like the bad guy, and I was never given the chance to fight for our relationship. It’s all good now, seriously. After much therapy and tears and internal reflection, I am doing just dandy and have definitely realized that our breakup was for the best. I suspect Melissa will come to realize this too, if she hasn’t already, and I’m sure everyone in her life is going to say things to her like, “Better now then after the wedding! Better now then after you have kids! Better now!” which is what everyone still says to me. And it’s true. YES, better now. But still, the fact that my ex, and Jason, made a decision that ultimately is better for the other person involved, doesn’t take away from the fact that they are selfish, immature, somewhat prickish d-bags. The fact that it’s better in the end for me, and for Melissa, is just luck and coincidence. It’s not a good deed. Neither wins a medal. End results matter, sure, but so does intent. Keep reading »
Dr. Jeff Steinberg of Fertility Institutes of Manhattan and L.A., who has let thousands choose the sex of their babies, now says that in six months he will also be able to let parents decide the eye and hair color of their kid. “In the process of doing gender selection … we’ve also uncovered the technology [to] characterize things like eye and hair color,” said Steinberg. Of course, would-be moms and dads, will only have the choice of blue or brown eyes and blond or black hair. Doctors will create the designer babies during pre-implantation genetic diagnosis, a procedure used to find problem embryos and to allow parents to pick the sex. After examining the genetic makeup of embryos created in the lab, doctors will only implant the ones that have the greatest chance of giving parents the desired traits.
I don’t think I’ve ever agreed with the Pope or right-to-lifers on anything, but when it comes to the idea of Build-A-Bear style babies, we’re in agreement. Keep reading »
During the most recent Democratic primary, I found myself wondering how things might have turned out differently if Hillary Clinton had spent less time with the glass ceiling and more time campaigning for President. For that matter, would Sarah Palin have been chosen as John McCain’s ticket mate if she had not been female? Keep reading »
Regardless of which one of these MySpace pages belongs to Melissa Rycroft, who got her ass dumped on “The Bachelor” finale last night — take your pick — she appears to be super sad! Or, you know, totally humiliated. “Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear,” reads one, but we like the update on the other one better: “Mel is completely humiliated.” Molly Malaney, who got dumped and then reupped, doesn’t appear to have a social networking presence, probably because she knows everybody hates her guts now. Melissa, on the other hand, has multiple Facebook groups dedicated to her: “Jason Mesnick is a SCUM BAG for dumping Melissa Rycroft!” and “Thank You Jason, We Will Gladly Marry Melissa Rycroft.” I think we may have found the next Bachelorette. Keep reading »
March is National Women’s History Month, and we’re celebrating by sharing a lady we admire each weekday.
WANGARI MAATHAI (1940- )
Raised by a family of subsistence farmers in rural Kenya, Wangari Muta Maathai recognized the connection between outdated farming practices, erosion, and poverty early on in life. In 1977, she founded the Green Belt Movement, which hired village women to plant trees in order to stop this vicious cycle. Maathai has been very vocal about the link between poor farming practices and armed conflicts in Africa. “Quite often, the wars are fought over resources, and many of the wars that today are being fought in the world are based on the natural resources. And so it is extremely important that we manage our resources on this planet sustainably and that we promote justice and equity and human rights,” she said in 2004, the year she became the first African woman to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. Maathai’s political and environmental views were on occasion met with physical violence. She was repeatedly harassed, beaten, and arrested by authorities for carrying out politically unpopular campaigns during the despotic regime of Kenyan President Daniel Arap Moi, who thought women had no place challenging the projects of men. But more than thirty years later, the Green Belt Movement is credited with planting 30 million trees across Africa.
Wangari Maathai, NobelPrize.org biography
The Green Belt Movement: Sharing the Approach and the Experience by Wangari Maathai
Paths to Peace: People Who Changed the World by Jane Breskin Zalben
Unbowed: A Memoir by Wangari Maathai
[Photo: AP] Keep reading »
“You’re doing what?”
I heard that a lot in the spring of 2007, whenever I explained to friends that I had broken up with my Nathan, boyfriend of four years, yet we were still living together in the apartment we’d shared for the last two. It was a temporary matter, I’d say, a situation that would last about a month or two, until we found our own places. Keep reading »