Obama's language stirs controversy

An article forwarded to me this morning by my mother:


By Andy Borowitz.

In the first two weeks since the election, President-elect Barack Obama has broken with a tradition established over the past eight years through his controversial use of complete sentences, political observers say.

Millions of Americans who watched Mr. Obama's appearance on CBS' "60 Minutes" on Sunday, witnessed the president-elect's unorthodox verbal tick, which had Mr. Obama employing grammatically correct sentences virtually every time he opened his mouth.

But Mr. Obama's decision to use complete sentences in his public pronouncements carries with it certain risks, since after the last eight years many Americans may find his odd speaking style jarring.

According to presidential historian Davis Logsdon of the University of Minnesota, some Americans might find it alienating to have a President who speaks English as if it were his first language.

The historian said that if Mr. Obama insists on using complete sentences in his speeches, the public may find itself saying, "Okay, subject, predicate, subject predicate - we get it, now stop showing off!"

The President-elect's stubborn insistence on using complete sentences has already attracted a rebuke from one of his harshest critics, Gov. Sarah Palin of Alaska.

"Talking with complete sentences there and also too talking in a way that ordinary Americans like Joe the Plumber and Tito the Builder can't really do there--I think needing to do that isn't tapping into what Americans are needing also," she said.

1 week post-op

Determined to recover quickly, I took a walk outside today in what felt like winter. I bought broccoli at Jins and coffee at the new place on the corner. I did 2 loads of laundry and gave the puppy a bath--I might even fall asleep without a pain pill, even with this raging headache--I'm gonna try.

Cousin Bruno

This afternoon, my cousin Emma emailed me these photos, taken of her son Bruno on Halloween.

At the risk of busting your stitches... she wrote.

Thanks a lot Em--I'm expecting you to drive me to the doctor tomorrow, first thing!

xoxo

I am a best selling author

Dream girl me, oh yeah, right.

So it's not much, but the book "Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous & Obscure" is a New York Times best seller, and you've got to admit, it looks cool on a resumé.

I am honored to be published alongside Joyce Carol Oats, Deepak Chopra and Joan Rivers--and especially Tai Moses, my friend of 35 years.

Click here for editorial reviews and more.

In real time

Ouch.
Can't sleep.
Ouch.
Perc won't work.
Ouch.
Wish my Mom was up.
Ouch.

For 94 minutes...

Visit this film.

Five stars without painkillers.

Letter to the prez

(Here you go, Tai)


Dear President-Elect Obama,

My name is Annie Kosh. I’m eleven years old and attend 6th grade at P.S. 187 Hudson Cliffs School in New York City. One of my concerns is about animals in shelters. I have a puppy, and I can’t imagine her living her life like those poor animals. I would never want her to be cooped up in a cage all day, not always having clean and fresh food and water, and always being in danger of being put down or dying of sickness or starvation. Shelters like the ASPCA are trying to fix things like that, but I know that you as president would have an even bigger impact on America. You could do things like make sure the animals are never in danger of being put down, unless they are sick and in pain, and the right thing to do is put them down. You could make sure all the animals, not just dogs, will have clean food and water, be able to interact with other animals, not be cooped up in a small cage all the time, and that they are kept safe and healthy until they find a home. Now that you and your family are getting a dog, you will grow to love it and will understand more about how much animals matter to everyone, and that they deserve to be treated well and taken care of.

Thank you so much for taking time to read my concerns.

Sincerely,

Annie Kosh

On your mark, get Percocet...

Go!

Goodnight!

Recovery day 5

Slept seven hours last night, had toast and eggs then slept 3 more. Frank brought coffee, I watched movies, Annie read her letter to Obama, and Tai sent me this ceramic Leo with a little flat tummy.

Command central

Sweetie, honey, sugar, dear

If you want more, then please click here.

Sound

I used to be irritated by the flute playing in the next building--but somehow, now, mixed in with the screeching sounds of moving trucks and rain falling, I find it beautiful and soothing.

Either the musician has improved or I have, for some reason, become more tolerant.

Covered

Weaning off the Percs--what a comfort to have backup.

Fact #88,932

I love watermelon.

Lucky me

The other day I picked up the phone, and on the other end of the line my mother asked, "Is this the daughter of my dreams?"

Had to

Popped a perc

Lulu made dinner and brought me a plate, Annie took out the trash and made me laugh. Chloé washed my hair in the kitchen sink, and I got a call from someone I love.

It was a big day.

Goodnight.

This is your Half Note blogger

This is your Half Note blogger on drugs


Any questions?

Post-opportunity

I love that no matter how much I want to, I can't do much of anything. I love that I can sleep for hours and that I have no schedule. I love that my neighbor makes me soup with chicken and potatoes--I love that I can still drink coffee. I love that I have a friend who washes my dishes everyday, and that my mother brings me fragrant white roses. I love that David delivers magazines and peppermints--and I love that my daughter strokes my hair that hasn't been washed in 4 days and whispers, "You have such pretty eyes, Momma."

Popsicles and percocet

Fact: I am blogging under the influence.

I am high as a kite--sucking on a lime flavored popsicle, doped up on Percocet after undergoing minor surgery 3 days ago.

Minor Surgery. No surgery seems minor, but this one was minor in the sense that it wasn't an emergency, wasn't done to save my life, and it wasn't because Columbian drug lords pulled a gun on me, demanding my kidney for their underground organ thieving ring.

With that said, that's all I'll say--so if you'll excuse me, I have to return to my sweet drugged slumber--where a little girl plays in a bright yellow dress, where a dollar sign hangs outside a big pink house, and where pain relief is always only 4 to 6 hours away.

Love,

Katie

Sitting at the sidebar

The Half Note might return on Thursday, more possibly on Friday, but if there's no word by Saturday, then on Sunday, prepare for something Monday.

Cuz I like it--here's something by Toots & the Maytals.

Cry baby

Yesterday, Annie and I sat in the waiting room at the pediatrician's office. From behind a closed door, a newborn starts to wail.


Annie: "Mom, you always look so tortured and sad when you hear a baby cry."

Me: "I can't help it, that sound breaks my heart."

Annie: "Well, just imagine it's a really ugly baby."

Sitting at the sidebar

I'm feelin' Bowie already.

Girl talk

On the phone with my mother--Annie sits nearby.

Mom: "You're so fucking smart."

Me: "I like when you say 'fucking.'"

Mom: "I like saying it."

Me: "I like the way it sounds."

Annie: "Can I hear it?"

Wanted

Friendly and sane Half Note reader in or around Washington D.C.--to house 45-year-old blogger and her charming child during presidential inauguration.

Will wash dishes and tell jokes in exchange.

Sitting at the sidebar

Yesterday's selection was happy and hopeful, but tonight the mood has changed. Proof it will change again--God knows, it always does.

Thankful

If you choose to ignore a first impression, if you consciously go against your intuition, at least, when it falls apart, appreciate the fact that you always knew the truth.

Sitting at the sidebar

One of my favorite pieces of music to listen to when I'm behind the wheel--when I'm trying to get somewhere, or like today, when I suddenly find myself surrendered to a moment, just accepting what is.

Fingers, by Gabor Szabo

As the weekend draws near

A reminder to self.

Obama in the house

Everywhere around the world

I love New York, reason #334,222,009

People in the city, honking horns and shouting out windows--Annie and are goin' outside.

In real time

Calls and texts coming in from friends around the country and around the globe--and this link from Cristian in Argentina.

Gracias mi amor!

Ohio WE LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!

Vote

My father taught me never to trust a politician--but somehow, I have faith in this one.

Can you feel it?

I woke up this morning, walked into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and said to myself out loud: "Today is election day."

Then I burst into tears.

Sydney Bowen says vote Obama

All in the family

"The Show Might Go On" is a play written by the father of my child (and my very best friend), David Kosh--adapted from the novel by my late father Roger Bowen, directed by my ever-present mother Ann Bowen, and produced by my always "out there" brother, Michael Horn.

This is "Show's" second run in New York--click on the flier for ticket information and times.

Family affair

Annie and her cousin Sydney walk hand-in-hand in Central Park. Sydney looks up at Annie and says, "I'm so glad you're not at home right now."

Daylight spending

Regardless of the clocks being turned back, I don't think I should have woken up at four.

Okay, I thought. My body believes it's five--early, yes, but not an ungodly hour to rise.

I tried to fall back asleep and when I next looked at the time, it was five.

I haven't yet adjusted to the change, I told myself. So actually, it's six. I know lots of people who get up at six.

I took another stab at sleep, but then felt hungry. I remembered reading an article that said you should eat within the first hour of waking--that if you wait any longer, your metabolism will slow down or convert stuff to sugar, or something like that.

So I laid in bed with a fig-flavored yogurt, then licked the spoon, turned off the light and closed my eyes.

Sleep never did come, but the laundry is going and the dishes are done--and if I hurry it up, I can finish this post and pay my bills by six--which is really seven, which isn't an unusual hour to start the day, not unusual at all.

This is a red panda

and I saw one today.

Day after tomorrow

Please vote.

When life gives you lemons

Don't make lemonade. Make art.

Shop talk

David: "Sixth graders are too old to be trick-or-treating. They should be out causing trouble, not asking for candy."

Me: "So you'd prefer our daughter put toilet paper all over someone's car rather than ask for candy?"

David: "Yep."

Pause.

Me: "Do sixth grade boys get erections?"

David: "All the time."

Me: "I mean, do they get erections when they think about girls?"

David: "Are you kidding? They get erections when they think about shop class!"

Save gas

Carpool to work.

Love this picture--click to enlarge.

Thanks, Bruce O.

Daughter dearest

Yesterday, after school, Annie announced her three best friends were dead--that she was the one who killed them, and that they were all now her minions.

Girl powers

Out walking with Annie and her friends--Giselle, Varuni, and Jasmine.

Me: "Giselle, who are you talking to?"

Giselle: "I'm talking to Varuni."

Me: "But Varuni is talking on her cellphone."

Varuni removes the phone from her ear and looks at me.

"It's OK," she says, "I can talk and listen at the same time."

Season of surprise

I've always said surprises come most often in fall.

We'll see.