Category Archives: Uncategorized

democratic systems

Thank goodness they were in place. Only a fraction of the legislation I let go or wrote got by the other party/house. I was 21 and learning every day. Only my talents as a brain and quick learner of subjects got me in to this job that would now be deemed paid far below the poverty level for seven days, 14 hours per day work work work.

I was rich in colleagues and friends and actually got a vacation every year, something I haven’t seen in decades. I was writing laws for millions of people. Now that I think back I didn’t have the wisdom of the past or ideas and foresight for the future.

Today, I’ve both wisdom and foresight and the ability to get things done. Unfortunately, kiddos, I won’t do it for peanuts even if I can get myself to Greece and Italy on how little you pay. Let’s just say that now that you want me, you can’t afford me. Oh, how I love to say that.

When everyone else wanted to go home to their families, they sent Dee to find out when a bill was coming up on the floor and call a teammate to come in. Party or baby shower? Dee will arrange it, collect the money and choose and purchase the gift. Stay overnight at the office? Call Dee. Pay raise? Well, T has kids and so does A and J. Sorry, we can only get you another $200. Can you handle things until 5:00 a.m. on Wednesday? We all have lives.

Now I’m in another democratic system where as our dog grows older she’s less forgiving and more demanding. Sounds like my husband as well. Dee gets the breakfast and dinner and morning and afternoon walks and will get up several times per night to put the dog back up on the bed. Nothing has changed except I’m no longer paid and do not go to Italy or Greece any more.

Yesterday I read a LinkedIn invitation to compete for a volunteer board spot to raise money for an educational institution across the country. I’ve done that but would not move across the country to do it. Boards don’t want to raise money, that’s why they hire development people and executive directors. It’s beneath them, so why are they trying to “hire” someone to work for nothing for an organization they don’t know or believe in?

See, wise and with forethought. Even old dogs can learn new tricks. Dee

 

Old Dogs, New Tricks

A few years ago we heard about dogs predicting seizures especially in young patients who adopted these dogs and could lead a better life.

Why would I be surprised this week that dogs can sniff out cancer. In the US, dogs are reviled as leaving poop behind and misbehaving around people of all ages and other dogs. This lasting impression of dogs and their owners is not correct.

Nearly everyone who takes their dog for a walk or to a park to socialize with other people and their dogs is a well-trained dog. My dog is ten years old now, and she’d be a good hospice therapy dog but will not be allowed because she eats frozen raw food. I offered to create a training and volunteer program for a local rehabilitation hospital (mostly older folks and some car wreck youth) and tried three times and after meeting the volunteer coordinator she never called back.

Everyone in the neighborhood knows our dog, Zoe. People I don’t even know pet her (my husband and I usually take her out separately) and say her name.

I truly believe dogs have a bond with humans and their senses that go way beyond ours, including sight and smell and if their senses can catch a seizure or heart attack when a child’s mother or father may have taken five seconds to stir the tomato sauce we should think again about making dogs a part of the family.

Part of the family means being allowed to fairly share public parks with others through a number of mechanisms. My dog is ten now, and she’s a hit with everyone. Many shy children have started to open up just because Zoe did a trick for them or walked on the leash for a few feet with them holding that leash. One child never talked to me until now after months seeing Zoe and asking “where’s your dog?” Now I ask him about school and what he learned today.

Cats, on the other hand… I love them dearly but cannot have one in the house because of my husband’s allergies. Years ago Alzheimer’s facilities started having therapy cats. Right now we have Zoe and want to make sure her senior years are well spent. Cheers to therapy dogs and cats and the folks who made this happen! Dee

 

Dogs and Privacy

http://www.jsonline.com/news/milwaukee/even-dogs-get-privacy-protection-from-overzealous-cops-b99239443z1-253824501.html

Well, Mr. Stingl had his say.

Right out of college I was awarded a political job with much burden in terms of substantial weight because what legislation I wrote would help or harm 34 million people, plus endless hours and weekends and trying to find free food anywhere we could because we made no money. Add that we were also covering for the attorneys that were supposed to assist us but were only there 1-2 days per week so I had to do his work as well.

After my first assistant job that lasted six months I moved to the library which got me familiar with Federal law. All of this was pre-computer so I sent clippings to each Legislative Associate. I got to learn the law and they got to know me. After the summer I was tasked with the largest one-person committee and did everything by hand. I was on good terms with the elevator operator (“bella ragazza”) Tony and knew when I smelled Aramis at 7 a.m. that my big-time Judiciary Committee lawyer (not the weeny one) was in so I could call early. Judiciary and Ways and Means had to weigh in if there was a criminal or monetary penalty in legislation and it wouldn’t pass unless they gave an OK.

Ironically, I was the jack of all trades and master of some. I was tasked with the Freedom of Information Act. Think JFK’s assassination and when those files may become available). Also the Sunshine Laws which make public meetings open to the public.

I was also charged with privacy. Open records and privacy. Years ago, as a young associate, it did not even occur to me that I was walking a tightrope between availability of public records and personal rights of privacy. One thing is no Catholic could vote for a privacy act without embracing the Supreme Court’s right to abortion.

I think this is going to be a two-part series. Ready for it? I wrote to the reporter who says that police redacting of names that are released to the press and public has hit critical mass because it gives no one information. This is because they fear lawsuits for defamation of character et al. Now they’ve started redacting dog names. If it’s an automatic computer program I may understand the redaction of the name Dexter or Chloe.

Two scenarios were given:

One, a blank couple has a dog named Chloe who has been wrongly accused of mauling a toddler, was housed in our city’s court case dog pound filled with dog fighters and was eviscerated immediately after being placed in custody but of course no-one knows that. Everyone who read the paper thought she was guilty but it was another dog in the neighborhood that is still on the loose.

Then there’s Zeb, a sweet Golden Retriever who was in the car when it got in an accident and his folks perished. Zeb survived and went to relatives.

Balancing privacy with freedom of information, I would print the names of Chloe’s parents hoping neighbors would know to steer clear. If Zebulon’s owners are gone and he’s safe, that’s fair game.

I know that the Supreme Court is going to have to rule on this forever, reporters hate it, and police departments are just covering to avoid lawsuits. In the end, I will go for openness and transparency in government. Who is paying your legal bills? We are. Redacting every name is ridiculous just to avoid a lawsuit. I’d rather you pave our streets so my car won’t fall down a sinkhole. Non-cheery, more to come about my struggles between FOIA and privacy. Dee

 

The Movie Pact

Our first date, in 2001, was at the movies, big screen and reclining seats, and then a Mexican dinner. We saw Anthony Hopkins in Hearts in Atlantis.

Years after marriage, we know several things. I love Star Wars, IV and VI especially, not the prequels. He is joyful to find me up on a Star Wars marathon and goes back to sleep knowing every detail that was changed from the original version.

It’s usually tit for tat. I get one, he gets one. Normally we agree but Netflix and Amazon Prime have thrown us for a loop. We live in the city and have two small cinemas close by. All the megaplexes are in the suburbs.

I think our paid channels should at least make us walk around the block before viewing. We always went to a movie every weekend afternoon and now we don’t.

Here’s the deal. My husband is always paying me back for giving in to a colleague and making me see “The Ring.” So he’s seen Memoirs of a Geisha twice, once with me, and once with a former friend.

Let’s just say it’s spy/intrigue/cops vs the Brontes and Jane Austen. And I love my spy novels. Horror films are off the charts. Nightmares ensue, The Ring.

When we disagree, seldom, I get one movie and he gets one movie. When in LA we stayed up ’til midnight to see the opening of Harry Potter without kids. Did you say movie buffs? Happy viewing, Dee

Roots

I never thought I had them as we moved around a bit as a kid, but I always have and they’re always there.

Sometimes we know there are stepping stones. Ten years ago this month we adopted our dog from a shelter and have seen her through hard times. My husband is back where she was born to speak at a conference and that’s where I told her he’ll be, where we adopted our sweet, needy (that’s for you, K) girl.

Sometimes folks put down roots after high school or college but we were both stubborn and waited for the right one to come along. It took a while for both of us. Now we’ve been together over 12 years.

Places don’t matter. Home is where we are, and these are our roots. With a bit of knowledge and wisdom I am Dee thanks to my families and friends.

Wild Strawberries

My father always pushed the boundaries and succeeded. A college graduate, he was drafted and given “elite” jobs like striping roads, yes, laying paint. He decided he’d had enough double-time so said the troops were in need of morale and asked permission to create a band. He did, and the band stood aside after playing, and the soldiers did double-time. He ended up managing and playing violin for the Seventh Army Symphony throughout Europe after the Korean war.

My husband pushes the boundaries. I have as well. In her time I believe my mother pushed them, too.

My parents bought a house on a small street in a village of 400, when the college students were not in residence. That wasn’t enough, Dad had to have property so bought 25 acres up in the hills. We worked hard every weekend to finish that property while my sister and I looked for ways to get to the creek. The fastest way was a frayed rope to get down a cliff. For a week we shunned that and went the long way.

Ah, the long way produced tiny wild strawberries. When one lives in cold climates, fresh fruits and vegetables are prized. We picked and ate those strawberries every day they were in season and never told anyone where we found them on our property.

We now live a nomadic life that takes us where we need or want to go for business and personal purposes. My husband doesn’t play the violin but in certain ways we’re both risk-takers and we’re always problem-solvers. I think that’s what brought us together.

His family had a dairy, and now a ranch because as people get older they can’t milk a herd alone and family farms are being eaten by corporate interests. My husband has an excellent education due to his loving family and many forces and may just be the wild strawberry that needs to be chosen. Dee

Cliente non e Importante

In Italian this means the clients are not good enough for the owner or staff to recognize and while we may wish to custom order shirts for my husband, the owner spent his time with a guy in the store (not the dressing room) trying on sweaters from the sale rack.

Yes, this is a store for clothing for men. I went yesterday and there were no customers so the owner spent a few moments with me so I could show the store to my husband this weekend for possibilities. He tested me on Italy to make sure I could afford to purchase their goods. Today, he dismissed us and made a big mistake.

We left after he spent time with the sweater guy. Maybe sweater guy spent $100 in the end, maybe not. He turned away a customer who may have ordered custom shirts, slacks, designer ties. He just lost a mint as we walked out.

I like to think of the millionaires in the world (no we are not) driving up in a 15 year-old Ford 150 pickup and wearing cowboy clothes. At first, no-one knows who they are. They are treated badly. I can tell you I’d have clothes tailored and measure both of us and bring things in to try rather than go through that routine. If that was our life I’d like to try it sometime. Wish I had my old Jeep Wrangler. I could probably buy it back because I loved that Jeep.

For years we lived in one of the premier ski towns in the USA. On Main Street the clothier treated us like gold before we ever bought anything, and did so during the years we lived there. He knows us today and would welcome us with open arms.

Now we live in a dying/dead city and a pretentious clothing purveyor needed to question me about Italy in order to get us in (I surpassed him and would with art as well) then dismissed us the next day.

It’s not about clothing, it’s about attitude. In the Rockies I was a person, in a rust belt town I’m nothing. Something to think about as you’re a big fish in a small pond..

Dear Mr. III, the third, the chosen one to own the store, what is in the first room in the Ufizzi? I’ll bet you don’t know. I do and don’t spend my life in mens’ fashion but just want to make my husband look good, and we’ll not be back. Thanks for trying to make us look small, you only did it to yourself. Dee

Old, New and Marriage

Yes, at our elopement I wore my great grandmother’s wedding pearls as well as new pearl earrings from a guest.

We’re really talking about a KitchenAid food processor my husband’s parents kindly gave us upon our wedding over 11 years ago. The top cracked a while ago. Last week, preparing for a dinner party, the crack let me overshoot the lock and I couldn’t get it back so punted and still made a good dinner.

Of course my dear husband got right out there and ordered me another top. It looks like I did 20 years ago. It’s perfect but everything KitchenAid must be purchased separately, from the work bowl to the top and even the plunger.

I’ve treated all the parts well and only place them in the dishwasher, top shelf, a few times a year but it’s been over 11 years and the difference in age, as it is in humans, is substantial.

Seeing the tops side by side I know a few things: we’re getting older and wiser; new stuff looks better with the work bowl and plunger; and that my husband has more grey hair than I have.

I think we’re looking up. Cook with abandon. The last thing I want to do is throw that motor in the trash. Get new bowls and keep cooking, always. Cheers! Dee

Turbo Tax

When you call in with a question, it summons a customer survey. If they don’t like the results, they say there was an error in transmission or they can’t read the data. You go, Intuit! Insult all your clients.

And last year when I went to the paid-for audit division, they gave me a call back number that was a sex line. I was called within moments by their boss, who apologized. Weeks later I got an email saying that I made a mistake, the phone number was one digit off and I must have made an error.

I’ve worked with lots of guys in offices before cubes were even invented, and I know that when a bunch of guys are laughing out loud when I’m given the sex line number that it was not a mistake, it was intentional.

This year I’ll do our taxes by hand because now paying Intuit $30 for Federal taxes and having them fail to import W-2’s and I have to place every box in by hand and pay for it is ridiculous. Here’s to two things we all have in common, death and taxes. Dee

Learning

I’d like to think I learned a lot from my parents, school, ballet, violin, piano and maybe even college.

After college I was hired for the best job I ever had. I got to learn skills in over 100 areas, had one of the largest loads of work, made less than everyone else because I was single and was supposed to work around the clock.

One man gave me a chance, at life and being smart and hanging out with other smart people. His name was Doug and he changed my life. I was no longer a shy big fish in a little pond, I was a swimmer who kept up with all the really smart people around me.

Doug died the other day. I never had a rapport with him 25 years ago because he was scary to a little kid like me. I would like to send his family my respect for his life and how he changed mine.

He taught me how to learn to talk to a military officer and I ended up having one marry us, my surrogate parents, a Naval Fleet Captain, Ret.  He married us over 11 years ago and nearly two years ago we flew to his burial at Annapolis where his widow, my dear friend, got to meet SecNav and get a memorial coin.

Doug was in on my first interview which I blew, big time. They asked me if I knew insurance, no. McKinney’s? Those were the law books. I asked who’s McKinney? That was Friday. Monday I had a job, and my life would have been vastly different if I’d taken the job as head of PR at a celebrated arts facility nearby and I may have never met my husband.

Both jobs paid little to nothing. I was expected to be smart and learn anything they threw at me, and I did. Five years later when I left I knew at least fifty areas of knowledge, it was a decade later when I fully realized I was writing laws for 34 million people. That was scary.

I never knew how to deal with Doug as he was a tough egg to crack and I didn’t know how to crack an egg and know a soft inside, even with my father. Doug was ex-military and I didn’t even know that. Years ago I met the mother I always wanted and my surrogate dad, that Navy Captain who married us. His widow is a dear friend and their sons have called me “sis” for many years.

Whilst I always got quiet around Doug I was the person to whom he tasked to take care of his home and pets while he and his family were away. I’d like to think there’s a synergy there because I’ve since had at pet or two all my life since then, have worked with shelters and spay/neuter and everyone calls me to take care of their pets. There’s no money involved at my age, just neighbors helping each other out, but he was my first “client.”

In the end, Doug fostered relationships that made us a family. We only competed against each other for promotions, and worked in collaboration to read each others’ papers for readability and errors (pre-computer) and The McGraw Team did the U-T and NYT crosswords at five o-clock each Friday as a competition.

I sat Doug down at a party and told him I was at the end of my rope in a current position. The next day, after a horrific struggle at the last job, the current one was a dream. When I gave notice to move elsewhere, outside the family, I was called in by my chairman to go over the annual report. It was a surprise party with cake and everything. I spoke to this Chairman’s son recently and he did remember me.

God bless Doug M and know, family, that he is remembered, even by old kids who knew him over 30 years ago. We always wanted to be better. Cheers to all families, Dee