johnvano.com

So He's Doing It

The President I didn't vote for is on his bully pulpit again. Pronouncing health care for all! If you like what you've got--keep it, he says. We're not going to take anything away from you, he says. But in his effort to secure insurance for an estimated 50 million uninsured Americans, large corporations to small companies will no doubt be tempted to wipe their hands of the trouble insurance causes for them. 

If this passes, count on the gap to close between the currently uninsured and the soon-to-be uninsured as Americans quickly become completely dependent on the government for health care. If we can even call it that, socialized system after socialized system is replete with stories of failures in the medical system, long waiting lists to see doctors, and the denial of tests and procedures. 

The President I didn't vote for has also headed down the road of anti-smoking legislation, and he won't stop there. Watch as he enacts rules about how much cake a 50-year-old with 15 pounds to lose can eat. Watch him deny coverage to someone who doesn't take "enough" care of himself. The government becomes our mother in this scenario, providing sustenance for us. This should not be!

The government should get the flip away from our private lives--protect our borders, pave our roads, be a cooperative extension of the American people. I have never seen a president pursue change with the reckless abandon of this guy, so much for crossing the aisle, working together, he has come into office with an agenda to eradicate everything America stands for as quickly as he can, before America wakes up and screams. Once we launch these medical "reforms" they will be very difficult to undo, not something a new election can remedy.

I know I have spoken in some hyperbole here, but this is getting ridiculous, and many of us are feeling increasingly helpless to do anything to change the changes.

Sleepy-eyed View

Since my highly demanding life and other aspiring aspirations have kinda sorta kept me from blogging, maybe I ought to catch you up on all things I think.

Let's start with the story out of Sleepy Eye, Minnesota, where the issue of parents' rights is at stake.

There are a lot of variables to consider in this episode involving a 13-year-old boy with Stage 2B Hodgkin's lymphoma and his mother's initial refusal to treat him with chemotherapy. The doctor involved in the treatment reported that he had upwards of an 80 to 90 percent chance of survival with treatment and less than five percent without. I'll give the doctor the benefit of the doubt, and suggest that he is well-meaning in reporting the mother to the authorities on the grounds of child neglect, but that doesn't give society the right to force people to do what they object to doing--particularly with their minor children.

I had the same view during the Elian Gonzalez story, that even if we felt collectively that the boy's father would return Elian to Cuba as a ward of the state, it was his right to do so. These are private issues of conscience and should not be group-thought toward solution. When we call out the dogs on something that appears to be a matter of life and death we invariably unravel lesser concerns, that are tied to the same rights. We can not whittle down a parent's right to make informed decisions about the welfare, education, and development of their children--even if most people agree on the substance of that decision. We are losing these rights in our country, and it's time it stopped.

The Last Dance: AI

Vano: The end of "American Idol" has come two weeks too late for me... I've been losing interest in the show and barely got in the last three songs last night. And from what I saw, that last anthem song was treacle though Cara seemed very proud of it. Why does the closing song sound the same year to year? I felt like David Archuleta should've been on stage singing it.

I think Adam is most deserving of the crown, but believe Kris’ fans to be more rabid, more invested, and more shared with Danny’s orphaned fans. Kris wins.

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Carp:
Round 1: Kris. Round 2: Adam. Round 3: A draw (neither really did a good job of singing this terrible dreck Cara created).

Winner: My head says Adam but my heart says Kris. I will probably be wrong here but I am going with Kris Allen to be this year's American Idol. My logic is simple, he will take more of the Danny votes than Adam will.

The Great President from Illinois

Abe Lincoln Grows Up is revealing and descriptive--filled with insights on not only his childhood, but on his parents and grandparents. In this Carl Sandburg classic, he draws on details that were unfamiliar to me, the almost-heroic strength and benevolence of the young man, his passion to learn, his life, and the life of this young country.

I was surprised to learn that Lincoln didn't move to Illinois until he was about 18, having spent his first few years in and around Elizabethtown, Kentucky and his formative ones in Indiana. Never had I heard of milk-sickness, but it claimed his mother and sister, and was a continual threat to people and animals. Lincoln adored his stepmother and was an incredibly enterprising young man, cutting wood and building homes before establishing a business where he transported goods along the Mississippi, landing in New Orleans a couple of times for trade. Here the book reveals scenes from the slave trade that Lincoln must have witnessed, including the very sickening way in which men, women, and children were described and offered up for trade--copy that reads much like today's used car advertisements.

Abe Lincoln Grows Up also details the political climate of the time--and the opinions Lincoln began to form about John Quincy Adams and Andrew Jackson, with Jackson's countrified beginnings providing a door to the ascension of young Lincoln.

Recommended for anyone interested in the period, and for those looking for a reminder of the character forged by hard work and discipline. It is something unlike anything seen from the modern political machine.

Three Threat: American Idol Analysis

I didn't get to watch much of the show tonight--just saw Kris and Adam's second songs and the playback of their "vote for me" clips... but I feel confident about making my picks just the same. I am of the opinion that Adam and Danny are most deserving of the finals and that based on fan support Danny is a lock. The competition for the final spot is between Kris and Adam--though I would like to see Adam win this thing. 

Prediction: Kris goes home, Adam in bottom two according to voting.

A final note--Simon Cowell makes this show much more than a singing show... his analysis is generally spot on, but I'm tired of everyone (including the other judges) talking on top of him. It's rumored again (like every year) that he's not coming back, and the way he's shouted at and interrupted I could see why he'd leave... I'm not worried about his feelings--it's just not the greatest television when you don't let your top draw string more than four words together.

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Carp: 

 
1. Adam Lambert ("One" was great.  "Cryin" had me doing just that.  The screech owl routine is getting old for me.)
2. Kris Allen (Has quietly brought himself to the verge of the finals.  His interpretation of Kanye West's "Heartless" was brilliant.)
3. Danny Gokey (The pride of Milwaukee was just ok last night.  For me, he didn't bring anything special to the stage.)
 
Should Go Home: Danny Gokey
Will Go Home: Kris Allen

Domestic Disturbance

It wasn't long after my nap, and my dream about waking, that I was shown the door. Sure I had it coming, even if it was a little early for that. But the kids were asleep and she was shuffling off to bed, so why expect anything more. I shouldn't have left my food untouched, but it was dry and I hate to eat alone.

Outside I was like an ancient forager, hunting but never killing, my stomach a chortling mess of regret. I laid on the porch (it seemed like the best place to go) and felt the moisture of the evening gather itself about me as I watched the stillness. Movement captured my attention, it always does, but tonight it stayed away as I took in the dancing critters of the night. 

I don't know how long I slept, but when the shower came on inside the house, I stretched and yawned my way to the door, watching for the first light in the kitchen. When that flicked on, I stood by the window, expectantly. This is usually enough, though sometimes I have to tap. It's typical the way he ignores me, and obvious to the point of cruelty. But when he's finally done with his fussing and packing for work, he lets me in and forgets that my bowl is empty.

What Happens on Man Trip...

...doesn't always stay on Man Trip. This is the diary of "Man Trip: The Southern Brothers."

Last weekend, twitter brothers Double3 and Protagonist joined me, johnvano, for a weekend in Rome--on the back acreage of Berry College. Here are some scenes from our story.

During a contentious game of RISK (1959 edition), Double3 raised the stakes by reaching in our cabin's refrigerator for a nasty basket of rock-like blueberry pebbles. Slapping three of them on the board, he announced that the first to be removed from the game, must eat the berries without aid of water. As double3's men were thinned, I called the gentleman on the left to be our sentry, ensuring that Double3 downed the poison when his fighting men were defeated. 

In typical Protagonist fashion, P forgot he coached an undefeated soccer team each Saturday morning--this left Double3 and I alone for the first 25 hours. This gave us the opportunity to talk about the deeper issues of life, faith, and family without the zany antics of Protagonist to trip us up. And true to form, Protagonist would later be found skivvy-dipping in the collegiate lake.

The first day I introduced Double3 to the wonders of RedBox--and he became a disciple just like me (we saw the wonderful film, No Country for Old Men). The shot on the right is from the top of a Rome cemetery, where D3 couldn't stop obsessing about the work the caretaker must endure to mow the lawns (we dubbed the lawnmower man "Warren"). When D3 and I arrived back at the cabin on the first night, he discovered he had lost the key. We tried windows and attempted to pick locks, before I found a loose screen and a unlocked window, and I squirted through quickly, falling through the blinds and into the cabin, stretching for the bed as I dropped hard to the floor.

Protagonist arrived just in time to bear witness to my strange, cucumber-boat salmon salad (I didn't know I was ordering off the dieter's menu) and to join us for the best gelato I've ever had (when in Rome...). The deer on the Berry campus are abundant, running in herds, shrinking under fences like lamb, and jaunting 10 feet past the cabin, lowing with the sounds of a school girl. There was no substance to them, not like the deer you hit with your car... I was certain I could take one if they charged me and wrestle it to the ground.

We played SETTLERS OF CATAN, an amazing new game--I was deemed the teacher and reader of the rules because Protagonist didn't want to be taught by Double3 and Double3 wanted someone to read who had focus. But I couldn't make sense of the thing, not until Double3 picked up the instructions and I found the summary on the back cover! The game turned out to be a thrill, with Protagonist winning twice, and me picking up the other win (though under protest from Double3)--I also came in second for games 1 and 3. 

The weekend ended with the heavier men of the group nearly dying in the woods. We took a short hike, and with my digital camera, decided with the storytellers and television experience we had, we should make a spontaneous short film. After taping several dull scenes of D3 and P sauntering, I gave up and gave the camera to Protagonist--then I spiced things up by slapping Double3 in the back of the head and running. P taped us chasing each other through the woods. I went near-full speed then climbed a peak and nearly needed a respirator to recover. Protagonist thought it a lovely day to skivvy-dip, so he announced within earshot of a woman and her dog what he was about to do, waited for their departure, and swam. He turned and came back when the temperature of the water nearly took him under.

The term ManTrip is used by permission of VanoCarp Industries. VanoCarp, the founders and purveyors of ManTrip encourage you to take a ManTrip, too.

Four on the Floor: AI

Vano: Here's how I rank 'em for tonight's "American Idol" Rock night.

1. Adam -- pitch perfect, though not my favorite performance from him. He doesn't seem to grow from week-to-week--he came to the show almost too ready.
2. Allison -- I thought she was bashed without cause.
3. Danny -- a little dull at the open, great through most, odd hoarse sounds leading up to end. Hated the way the judges bashed he and Kris for "reaching," "and not your thing"--what the heck were they supposed to do?
4. Kris -- enjoyable

It's almost pointless to have a bottom three as that would involve all but one contestant. Still, I'll rank them by votes so we can score as much as we can. 4) Kris, 3) Allison, 2) Danny. Going home: Kris

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Carp: It was the best of performances, it was the worst of performances on American Idol this week.  While Adam Lambert and Allison Irahetalaunched full throttle into Rock Night, Danny Gokey and Kris Allen appeared to be two forlorn deer about to get squashed in the judges headlights.  Here is how I broke it down:

1. Adam Lambert: He had the attitude, he certainly had the voice, and Cara called him a "rock god".  Adam was head and shoulders above the rest.
 
(big dropoff)
 
2.  Allison Iraheta: With a natural rock and roll swagger, and the benefits of Adam's hairstylist, Allison turned in a commendable performance on a lesser known Janis Joplin gem, "Cry Baby".
3. Danny Gokey: Goofy scream aside, Danny turned in an Ok performance despite a wooden stage presence.
4. Kris Allen: Simon declared that Kris's performance was like "eating ice for lunch".  Maybe that explains why Kris said he wanted to pee his pants when he met Slash.  Not a good night for the pride of Conway, Arkansas.

Should Go Home: Cara Dioguardi (she adds absolutely nothing to this year's show)

Will Go Home: Kris Allen

Fives: American Idol Report

Vano says: My personal rankings for the week

1. Danny -- he had me with the first note.
2. Adam -- tone down the strange, still he's good.
3. Kris -- against my instincts, I've grown to like him.
4. Allison -- got the chops, but she's not blowing us out anymore.
5. Matt -- Michelle Pfieffer alone should have a permit to sing this song

Bottom 3 (by voters): 5) Matt, 4) Allison, 3) Kris. Matt ends his journey.

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Carp says:I realize I am woefully behind Vano at this point but am humbly submitting my AI rankings for this week.

1. Danny Gokey -- His glasses were not working for me but he had a Rat Pack swagger according to the clueless Cara.

2. Adam Lambert -- He is our Michael Phelps declared Paula excitedly.  In light of Mr. Phelps recent pecadillos I don't think that is a title Adam needs.

3. Kris Allen -- A little rough on the falsetto but the girls were going wild.

4. Allison Iraheta -- She was looking "dope".  Perhaps she is the female Michael Phelps.

5. Matt Giraud -- Not a good sign when Jamie Foxx calls you back with a suggestion after squinting at him the entire time sang.

Should Go Home:  Matt Giraud

Will Go Home: Matt Giraud

Between Ages

Gift card in hand, with my five children and their mother, I took a left and headed for the men's section. Eschewing the oxfords, trousers, and ties, I made a beeline for the short sleeved pullovers, graphic tees, and officially merchandised products. As I held up an orange, horizontally-striped shirt and noticed the signage indicating the "young men's department," I wondered about myself.

Here I stood, salivating at the prospect of a new Pepsi t-shirt or a Brian McCann faux-jersey, while more age-appropriate attire cleared its throat in hopes of getting my attention. I wished the store hadn't decided to categorize men who wear clothes into groups of young and mature, because it left me wondering if I should be feeling my age. I thought about it, then shook it off, feeling as 26 as I'd ever been, kids or no kids.

The next morning, on our way to church, I stopped at the grocery store to purchase some sweet tea for the potluck. Waiting behind a 50-ish man at the customer service counter, I couldn't help but stare at his aging befuddledness. He was inordinately slow about things, carefully placing his cakes and candles and treats on the counter, then, after things were run up, realizing he'd need his wallet. He rooted around in his back pocket, pulled on his bifocals, and laboriously counted out some bills, insisting on pinching out the correct change. But to his surprise, the cash he got back was more than the total due for his purchases. He had somehow mistaken a fifty for a twenty, paying 70-some dollars for a 33 dollar purchase. The clerk was too kind to point out the error, but the man swallowed and gulped and grimaced when he realized his mistake, dropping a dime on the floor as he scrambled to get his bags.

As I bent to the floor, I spoke up that he'd dropped some change, but he didn't hear me, toddling off so that I had to catch him in order to return it. Watching him leave, I wondered about my age, now closer to birthday cake man than to the guy I see myself as, the one who buys Smokey the Bear t-shirts in the young men's department.