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categories: Cocktail Hour / Our Best American Short Stories
3 comments
Here's a seasonal offering from my story collection, Big Bend. "Thanksgiving" is placed first in the book–not my idea, but Charles East's, the wonderful (former) series editor for the Flannery O'Connor Prize, who paid close attention to every aspect of my work (the new series editor is Nancy Zafris, also a past winner), all by US mail. I wrote him that I was worried people would think the story was autobiographical, since it borrows a little from the statistics of my family. And Charles replied, "Whether it is autobiographical in this or that detail hardly matters–this scene will be recognized as the universal Thanksgiving story, the opposite of the one Americans like to tell themselves." Anyway, nothing like this ever happened to me or my family, though at times I used to feel just a little like Teddy. This is an early story of mine, first draft dating back to graduate school in the late 80s. And not the 1880s, okay?
When the phone rings in the empty loft Ted knows exactly who it is: exquisite Mary, gentle Mary, tough Mary and brainy—his brother's wife—for whom Ted would fall in a minute if such things were permitted. She seems cold as they climb through some small talk, gets to the point fast, warms to her task: "Oh Teddy, really, you have to come this year. You ought to come this year. Lily wants to show you her watercolors." Lily is the oldest of Ernest and Mary's three little daughters. "And your mom would like you here."
"Why doesn't this Mom person call me herself?" Ted says, growing testy despite his resolution: this year at Thanksgiving he's going to be part of the family again, no explosions, no tumult, no bubbling in the bosom. He knows where Mary's calling from, hears Elrod's raspy barking, hears the TV in his parents' sumptuous den (where doubtless his mother is standing focussed like a laser on Mary and the phone).
Mary eats a laugh. "Well, she's right here."
"No fooling." Teddy sees it perfectly: Mary grinning, handing the phone to Mom against feeble protests, Mom's hands up to keep this difficulty away, Mary smiling more forcedly and holding the receiver against Mom's ear.
Too late; the old gal has to speak: "Well. Teddy. When are we coming?"
"I don't know, Mother. Wednesday? Thursday morning? I've got a ton of work: a lady on Beekman Place wants a portrait, and I'm showing slides at two galleries."
From his mother, silence.
Ted says, "And the Met, well not the Met exactly, but this very consequential curatorial entity wants to . . ."
"Well, marvelous. Whenever you get here is exactly right."
Now Lily has the phone, no goodbye from Mom. "Uncle Teddy?"
"Hi, Lily Loops. Halloo. Are you coming for Thankspiglet?"
"Oh, Uncle Teddy!"
As always his niece's giggle is the most perfect music Ted has ever heard. She likes a sense of conspiracy so he whispers: "Bring the turkey in a paper bag. Bring eleven cranberries."
"Uncle Teddy, come on!" Oh, her laughter, this laughter right now, this is the most beautiful thing Ted has ever made. The kids! For the kids he won't be off his rocker anymore.
There's not a dime in sight for Ted Lyons. And not a paintbrush either. He hasn't made the trip to a gallery—not even SpaceSpace on Avenue D—with slides in hand in a year or more, hasn't shot slides for six months, hasn't produced anything to photograph. Consequential curatorial entity! Crap. This pompous spur-of-the-moment phrasing plays over and over in his mind, a rebuke. Back to the nuthouse, Mom must be thinking. His past success as a painter, life before his—ah-hem—rest time, offers no succor for these angry days. He and his supposed art are in some kind of extended eclipse, the needling voices in his head so loud he can't paint in the same room with them.
The lady on Beekman Place wanting a portrait is a fat lie (though once Ted fixed a toilet in someone's brownstone there). His Mr. Fix-it ad in the back of the Village Voice ran out in August and he hasn't had enough money to run another. Monte Dorfman, his comfortably rich roommate and true friend, normally good for a loan, is far away—a tour of Asia and Australia—and he won't be back for three months.
Ted boils water and makes himself a plate of miserably unadorned Ziti and feels maybe a little of the romance he as a college student might have seen here. He is an artist. He is surely going mad, and for the second time. He will not ask for help, however, will not give a clue to anyone. If he does, it's back to you-know-where. And with you-know-who paying for it. And finally, the last brick in the wall of romance: Teddy is in danger of starving. Or at least of being hungry: there's two or three nights of eating in that big ShopRite Ziti box.
Late, he empties Monte's change jar, which has enough nickels and dimes for two beers at Milady's, corner of Thompson and Prince, and where two beers bought gets you one on Frankie, who will knock the bar and say, "This one's with me, pal." And knock the bar all night with a kind eye on the pile of pennies Ted scoots around in front of him, barely shiny with nickels.
A few beers, a half dozen, that changes the complexion of things.
There's no getting back to sleep. Teddy thinks of Thanksgiving dinner and Lily Loops and Beaner and his sister Kelly and beautiful Mary and Mom. And Dollar Dad and Big Brother Ernest and Little Bro Jim. It's the family that's going to save him. Going to have to. He thinks of Monte and Jennifer in Southeast Asia and Professor Mtuboto at Brown University and the one painting no one ever had any doubt about, Ted's thesis work, "Self Portrait with Attitude," an enormous picture in oils of himself with ten feet of blank canvas to one side: his first masterpiece (that is, the first real piece of himself to reach canvas), already ten years old, moldering in some generous lady's collection. For the two thousand bucks (his first fortune) Ted wishes he still had the painting, wishes maybe he'd never bought the hope the money had afforded him. Because in a complicated web he once had a handle on, that sale launched the events that took him to Riverview Heights (formerly known as Riverview Sanitarium), a lovely place with a campus like a college and doctors like calm parents.
Four a.m. and he's not sleepy at all, still ruminating furiously, still entertaining the comments of all the observers of his ruminations, a clear idea having entered his head: the possibility of his own change. He could get a job like Ernest's, wed a woman like Mary, live in a suburb like Newcastle, Connecticut, his own home town, work his way toward respectability and honor, explore the possibilities of commercial art (his dad's perennial suggestion), stop thinking of commercial art as selling out (Monte's phrase, Monte in Cambodia) but as buying in, as getting real (as younger brother Jimmy would say). Because a woman like Mary you interested only with success, with brains, with self-love and self-power like Ernest's. Madness was out.
Ted rose and began searching cushions of the bad furniture in his loft—Monte's loft, if you thought in terms of leases and rent and who had his shit together. Three shineless quarters in the yellow vinyl chair, a dime in the heater, nineteen cents in the cracks of the warped old floor. Sixteen one-dollar bills in Monte's desk drawer. Smiling gods of heaven!
Meds or Jack Daniels?
On the eve of Thanksgiving Teddy rolls out an entire bolt of the Canson Mi-Teintes paper his father bought him those two hopeful years ago. Dad kindly put out some mean cash at Pearl Paints down on Canal Street: "You got to spend money to make money," misunderstanding the whole artist game with unusual heart. Fifty feet of the thick, beautiful paper, forty-five inches high, and Teddy gets to work on his idea for Thanksgiving, his idea for what he can add to the festivities and still have enough cash to pay for the train ride home. It's a mural with serious sections and comic sections, a Thanksgiving card, a love poem to his family, his thanks for their forbearance. He sips Jack Daniels and puts his nieces in there: Lily Loops and the Bean as tidy little Pilgrims; the babies, April and Erin, as cherubs on the back of spotted fawns. He paints his tall mother slightly unhappy as the Pilgrim matriarch, cigarette in hand, paints Dad beside her in a kind of Pilgrim three-piece suit with musket and briefcase. He paints quickly, a succession of photographs in hand, quickly and with a humor that comes of using up the last of a formerly huge supply of paint, a supply that once seemed like hope itself. Good brushes, too, worn but well cared for. Teddy shows his brawny young sister Kelly beneath an enormous and laden picnic table, holding the whole thing up with one hand and wearing a Grecian tunic—a lady Hercules. He captures perfectly his brother Jimmy and Jimmy's wife, Connie, in jogging outfits, their new twin Volvos tethered to teamed horses. He gets Elrod in there and a good deal of Edenic garden, both to honor his mom. He paints Ernest lolling magisterially in a cloud, a stern but beneficent god blowing fortune from on high. He's painting hard, he's painting fast, he's in a lather, he's damn good, he's got whiskey in his blood. "The mural is really working," say the onlookers, "It's a pageant!" He plays with the long composition, repeating figures: there's Dad off to work; there's Kelly slaying buffalo; there's Lily and April sur l'herbe in their swim-team suits, lunching with the painter; there's Jimmy flinging U.S. currency to the wind; there's Connie dandling Erin; there's Ernest intently making a drawing, his first.
Later Ted realizes he's put Mary in the only Native American costume, painted her at both ends of the absurdly elongated table. At one end she gazes approvingly at the Ted figure having his Dejeuner; at the other she holds the hand of another Ted figure, the two of them looking up, oh, looking up and pointing at Ernest, the great pale god, unbearably handsome.
They will like this poster. They will! The whole family, and then Teddy can ask them for succor.
At the Newcastle Train Station Thanksgiving morning Ted steps down into the bright sun, sees a row of twelve-hour parking meters, a gas station, a bent Lions Club sign, the drive-up window of the First Newcastle Bank, a particular tree, all of it fraught with sad memories: Marianne Oplennoff for one, Dad in his business suit for another, the daily commute.
No time to get misty: Dad rockets into the station parking lot in his new Humvee, skids in the gravel, stops so the passenger door is exactly at Ted's hand, leans hard (no seat belt), flings the door open, shouts, "Son, get in."
Lily's in the back seat, grinning. She's a small version of Mary, her hair long and black, gap between her big front teeth, flannel shirt twenty sizes too big. Ted pokes his bulkily rolled mural into the back beside her, throws Monte's daypack on top of her, just for fun.
"Lillian," he says deeply, knowing she'll laugh. And she does, and puts a long little hand on his shoulder as he gets in, pats him expressively, pure love and acceptance, holds the daypack in her lap.
Ted pats her hand back and pat pat pat it's a joke. On impulse then he leans awkwardly to hug Dad and worse, kisses Dad on his stubbled cheek. Dad is embarrassed, so hits the gas, throwing gravel, and they're off, just one mile to the old home.
The enormous vehicle has the old-home smell—Dad's cigarettes, probably, and his shoe polish—and it gives Ted the old-home feeling, a mixture of comfort and dread, with the difference that now he actually recognizes that dread's in the mix. Today recognition adds consternation, not comfort. Dad drives very fast, shooting his spindly right arm out in front of Ted at every stop to protect him from his own inertia at stops as if he's a kid again.
In the back seat Lily the Looper studies the inside of the rolled mural. She speaks into it, hollow echo: "Calling Uncle Teddy. Come in, Theodore Lyons. Are you going to stay this time?"
"Not you, too," says Ted.
Dad chortles. "Of course he's going to stay! He'll stay the weekend! We'll have turkey sandwiches!"
"Maybe, Dad. Maybe not. I've got a lot of work, a ton. I've got a job I might do Saturday." There's no job on Saturday. There's no job at all. Ted's head swims: Jack Daniels hangover. Someone is telling him to get home. This he fights. He'll ask for help. He'll ask Mary, perhaps, and she can ask Mom, who in turn can go to Dad.
Into the tube of the mural Lily intones: "You don't like us."
"Lily Loop Lungfish, you mind your manners!" says Ted, in imitation of an angry Ernest. Lily screams, getting the joke, then laughs and laughs, sniffing through her nose, embarrassed to let it out.
"Mom's got a thirty-pounder!" says Dad.
The house is still there, Victorian and tall, pure white everything, surrounded by a neat yard and giant oaks, not a stray leaf in sight, not a stray blade of grass. The fall has been warm so the lawn's still green. The sky is blue, the air is clean, the smells are familiar to the point of memory. The grand over-arched driveway is full of cars, license plates from all over: Ted's siblings. Lily takes his hand and walks him up the driveway, feeling somehow the formality of the situation, seeming to know that it's she who must guide Ted back to the flock.
Jimmy is first out of the house to greet them. He's all smiles, wearing a tie. Ted's heart wells at sight of his little brother, who's not so little; in fact, Jimmy's a big man, over six feet, over two hundred pounds, polished and smart, thick glasses, wet hair. The brothers meet under the portico in an uncomfortable hug. Dad has hung back, thin and stiff and suspicious as an old dog. He turns abruptly and makes for the toolshed where his lawn machines will be.
Jimmy says, "You look like shit," which is a joke.
"He's tired," Lily says protectively.
"Let's go over to the mall in Stamford and get you some clothes tomorrow," Jimmy says.
"I'm fine," says Ted.
Then Connie's at the screen door—Jimmy's wife. "Uncle Ted!" she cries. Lily's little sister Bean peeks around Connie, looks impatiently at Ted, spins and leaves. In the foyer (potted plants, framed photos, a painting by Kelly, two drawings by Lily, nothing by Ted, nothing in the whole house by Ted) the whole gang turns out. Ernest is impassive, holds out his hand for a shake, doesn't quite smile, looks ready to give a speech. Kelly laughs in words—ha ha ha—hugging Ted and kissing his cheek, a mountain of cheer. And there's little April, looking pissed, her fist in her mouth. Beaner makes her way back into the foyer, dragging Mom, who inspects Ted from head to toe. "What a crowd," Mom says, and turns on heel.
"You been eating enough there in New York?" says Jimmy, genuinely concerned.
And Ernest says, "Tofu," derisively, then looks Ted over sneakers to ponytail, clearly finds him wanting.
"He'll eat today!" Kelly says brightly. She's a sweetie, really a sweetie.
"Ziti, I eat," says Ted, attempting good cheer, but sounding merely cryptic, even to himself. "Tofu's more Monte's speed."
Suddenly there's the smell of turkey, and Ted relaxes, lets Lily tug him into the little parlor off the kitchen, sits himself down, pulls Lily down beside him on the arm of the big chair, three-year-old April eyeing them both skeptically.
Jimmy says, "I'll help Mom," and drifts back to the kitchen. There's a record spinning on the parlor turntable, vague holiday music, a fire in the parlor fireplace even though it's a sauna in here already. One by one the family files in. Lily pats Ted's shoulder. Baby Erin starts to fuss in Connie's arms so everyone looks to her.
"Thanks, Lil," says Ted, seriously, under his breath.
"For what?" says she, also seriously. Connie has heard, looks puzzled. Ernest stalks in and leans on the bookshelf, wiry and small as Dad, resumes his appraisal of Ted, visibly repressing some imperious command to get Lily off the arm of the chair. He says, "Monte and tofu in Greenwich Village," meaning: Doesn't that just say it all!
April does a somersault to much applause.
Kelly laughs—ha ha ha ha ha, says, "Have you found yourself a girl?"
And Ernest says, "Tofu," again.
Irritable Mom in the kitchen yells out, "One hour!" and Jimmy comes flying comically back into the parlor.
Ha ha ha ha ha, barks Kelly.
Then Mary steps in from the kitchen, drying the gravy boat, having rinsed out the dust of a year. "Teddy Lyons," says she.
"Mary Meharg Lyons," says Ted in the same tone, which is appraising and affectionate at once.
She says, "The artist is home."
Ted says, "Yeah," and you'd think he was the world's funniest comedian the way everyone laughs.
"Artist," Ernest says, and roars.
Lily says, "He brought a painting."
"You look good," says Mary. "You look very happy and healthy and handsome." She goes back in the kitchen.
"Dad needs me on his chop saw," Ernest says, meaning that some repair is under way. He says, "Artist," again, not exactly shaking his head, tone modulated so carefully you'd have to guess what he meant. Observation? Derision? Kelly follows him out the door.
Jimmy and Connie linger politely. Connie tries for a conversation: "How's New York? I miss New York."
"Is that where you live?" says little Bean.
"Yes," Lily says, patting Ted's shoulder. "He lives in New York City, where we've never been."
Just before the big meal Ted gets Lily and Beaner to help him with the forgotten mural. The little girls close the dining room doors and giggle and whisper, loving a conspiracy. Ted stands on the furniture and Dad's spattered stepladder, carefully taping the paint-stiffened paper around three walls and close up under the high ceiling. The mural just clears the tops of the doors and the hutch and the grandfather clock, which tocks. Bean, who is normally as skeptical as Ernest, is thrilled. She holds her belly and stares at the likeness of her little self in the Pilgrim outfit, amazed.
Lily crosses her arms in front of her and gets formal, proffers a review: "I think Grandpa looks perfect except his hair. His hair is white, Uncle Teddy, it's not gray like that."
Ted suppresses the impulse to argue with her. She's nine, for heaven's sake. Also, she's right.
She purses her lips, turns slowly, taking in the mural, one end to the other. She says, "The food looks so real. And Grandma looks perfect, and Uncle Jimmy."
Teddy can't help it, he stands there beaming. Praise is praise, and he hasn't gotten much for months.
"Daddy looks mean," Bean cries, pointing, suddenly having seen the god Ernest in the clouds.
"Why is Aunt Kelly under the table?" says Lily.
"She's holding it up," says Ted.
"And look at me," Lily says. They do, for a full minute, Ted and two children, necks bent back, arms folded. Lily says, "I look stupid."
"You are stupid," Beaner says.
Lily says, "And Erin and April, Uncle Teddy, I don't know. Erin and April are the worst!"
"Babies are hard," Ted says.
"They look like little animals," says the Bean.
"And why is my mom in a bathing suit?" Lily points.
Eek. Ted needs Lily's eyes to show him that Mary's Native American costume is tiny, a great show of legs and cleavage and burning dark eyes, that old movie poster of Raquel Welch. It's obvious, awful, pure aggression, but the likeness is terrific. Ted has spent a lot more time on her than on the other portraits, and spent it later in the night of painting, bombed on that whiskey when he should have bought monthly meds. He has her face perfect down to the expression of pain and caring, has her long hair shining blue and dark as midnight, has the dent of her lip, the tilt of her head, the knuckles of her hand. But where did the cleavage come from? The oiled thighs? He wishes for paints to fix her costume, then in a fit of real grandiosity decides she'll like it.
To Lily he says, "I need help."
Lily looks at him seriously.
"Come carry things, girls," says Ted's mother.
"April and Lily, come help," calls Mary, as if they are miles away.
Ted takes advantage of the empty dining room to raid the liquor cabinet. He pours several fingers of Wild Turkey into a large ornamental cup from the top shelf of the hutch. He drinks fast, pours again, stows the bottle back in its cabinet, drinks up, steps cheerfully into the kitchen fray, pats Miss Bean on her head.
Dad, torn away from his machines, sits at the head of the enormous old table as always, with Bean at his right hand. Mom sits at the foot. Elrod the mutt, having roused himself, stations himself underneath, stiffly, seventeen years old, waiting for scraps.
Ted's mural hovers above, surrounding the family on three sides. Everyone but Kelly thinks it's in bad taste to have painted Kelly under the table like that, holding things up—but she's proud of her strength, her size, kindly says she doesn't mind. Ernest seems to like his position in the clouds, gazes up at himself approvingly. No one says a word about Mary's costume, though Mary gives Ted a hard look. His parents barely look up.
Not another word about the mural. Big-hearted Connie, all manners, leaps into the void, takes it upon herself to offer praise, something the Lyonses just aren't good at. She praises the likenesses, praises Ted's generosity, praises his palette, praises his ingenuity, praises the perspective, the difficult trick of getting everyone in there, praises and praises him in the silent room.
And in the silence that remains when she's through, Dad says grace. Mom and Kelly start passing food around. Ernest's in the same seat he's always been in, exact center of the fire side of the table, equidistant between Mom and Dad. Mary sits beside him. Jimmy and Connie, as always, sit across, neatly dressed. Ted's next to Mary, Lily beside him. Kelly's across from Ted on the piano bench next to Bean, rocking baby Erin, chatting earnestly with April, who is failing to sit quietly. The plates fill up. Forks clatter. The meal commences.
Mom grows sad, sighs and pokes her food. Unasked, unannounced, Dad gives a technology quiz straight from childhood: "At what temperature does all movement stop?" and instantly the siblings are shouting out answers, childlike in competition. Mary and Connie laugh, watching the familiar regression. "Absolute zero," shouts Ernest for the eighth time.
Dad pretends not to hear, won't give Ernest credit, moves on. He says, "By what process is plastic derived from oil?" Jimmy and Ernest and Ted all start talking, none giving ground, none exactly knowing the answer, so, soon and also at once, they shout out jokes to cover themselves, they shout with laughter.
"I paid for how much college?" Dad says.
"Teddy smells like booze," cries Lily.
"Lily smells like baby powder," says Ted. He feels inordinately and absurdly proud that she has chosen to sit beside him, that he is her relative. He tickles her between bites, steals food from her plate.
"You are crazy," she says, patting his shoulder.
"Crazy," Ted says back.
Kelly says, "Oil is turned into plastic by fouling beaches and destroying indigenous populations and by widening the gap between rich and poor and otherwise assuring the hasty end of human culture as we know it and shortly thereafter the death of the earth. Ha ha."
Gentle Connie sees the gauntlet hitting the parched earth, says, "At my office there's this gal who has this dream to fly in a balloon. Of course we just laughed and laughed at her . . ." And keeps trying, though only Mary even pretends to listen.
"Bhopal," Ernest says, cryptically.
" . . . signs up for this balloon tour."
"For or against?" says Kelly. Ha ha ha.
"Human error," says Dad. "Those Continental Indians are ineducable."
"No more quizzes," Mom says.
Connie never gives up, tells the entire story of an eleven-balloon pilgrimage to Cumberland Island, even as Ernest and Dad and Kelly face off three ways about the responsibility of multinational corporations to world culture, not the slightest agreement between them in any direction.
"You want to stop driving your car?" Dad shouts finally, his grin a rictus. "You want Ted to stop using his paint?"
Ted raises his eyebrows.
"Teddy needs help," Lily cries.
"So I guess the lesson is: pursue your dreams," Connie says, and goes silent.
"Maybe we should take the billboard down," says Ernest. He means Ted's mural and says it like it's Ted's mural that has caused the ruckus.
"Oh, Ernest," says Mary.
Ted feels himself stiffen.
"Pinkos," says Dad. It's supposed to be a joke but it isn't funny and not even Connie laughs.
"You hurt Ted's feelings," says Lily, soulfully, aggrievedly to her father. She pats Ted's shoulder, says, "You say sorry."
No one is going to say sorry. Everyone turns to eating. The food is gorgeous, delectable, but only Connie says so, a grand "Yum" in the silence: turkey and creamed onions and mashed turnips and sweet potatoes, peas and cranberry chutney and green beans, salad and rolls, lots of rolls.
Ted eats. He wants to tell Lily he is not hurt by Ernest. He wants to tell Lily he's impervious, always was. He wants to tell Lily how he loves her and how funny he thinks she is. He wants to say, Lily, don't worry about me, but he can't because Lily's right, he can't because Lily's seen through him and she's just a kid and she knows about Ted and his pain before Ted even knows. The mural prowls above them. Ted eats with total absorption and the pleasure of it is the most pleasure of any kind he's felt in many weeks, many months, more pleasure than in two years, certainly. One must ask for help, as Dr. Teach, his psychiatrist, often says.
The little girls start a song about bluebirds, and everyone just continues to eat in blind concentration, passing bowls around, filling plates, clanking, slurping, sighing.
Mary sits between Ernest and Ted, eating politely, as if she's alone at some diner. Her new red dress is open at the neck, her bra shows ruffles, her cleavage is pale, almost blue. Among the hundred-thousand glossy black hairs on her head there are a hundred strands of gray, which Ted finds stirring, poignant, perfect. He takes a bite of his food, gazes at Mary, gazes away, bites his food, gets lost in his plate. Help, he thinks.
Dad is first to finish, throws his hands up—Touchdown!—smiles broadly, proud of his speed. Ted almost hears him say what Ted wants to hear him say—how good the food is, or how full the fatherly stomach is, or how there's still a little room for pie—but Dad says, "I'd say round up these environmental weenies and pop 'em in an gas chamber somewhere."
Connie laughs absently. Jimmy looks at her, aghast: Connie is Jewish, as Dad well knows. Kelly sighs dramatically, but keeps eating big gulps, has hardly dented the enormous mound of food on her plate.
"Everybody?" says Ted in a rush.
"Don't even say it," says Ernest.
Mary closes her eyes.
Long pause. "I was just going to say that we need to think what the world will be like for these little girls." He smiles benignly, looks at serious Lily, flips a calm open palm toward April, but his heart pounds as if he's being chased, or as if he's been in a crash.
"Can we take the billboard down?" says Ernest, smiling hard. He's still talking about Ted's mural, trying to make it a joke, trying to break the tension, but there's not a jot of humor in his face.
"What I want to know," says Mary evenly, "is the source of all this emotion today."
"Pinkos," says Dad, smiling hard like Ernest, as red in the face.
"Why is everyone fighting?" says April.
"No one's fighting, dear," says Dad.
"Nazis," Kelly says.
Jimmy says: "What's the biggest flounder ever caught?"
Ah, Jimmy. Dad leaps up and rushes to the living room to get the record book and an encyclopedia, and soon he's reading loudly about flatfish, fluke, and flounder.
Suddenly Kelly looks up, fixes Ted in her thoughtful gaze. "If you ask me," she says, "I think it's remarkable how these good upright men can do the work they do for Dow and Union Carbide and still want to have children. Jail's too good for them."
"Three hundred forty pounds!" Dad cries.
"No flounder's that big," Ernest says.
"Goddamn it." This is Mom, just a whisper, barely even a sound, but everyone has heard her. Ted looks at her a minute. She is looking at her plate.
"Have the bulbs gone in?" Kelly says. "Mom Lyons? Have you got the tulips in yet?"
"I've given up on flowers," Mom says.
"Criminey," says Dad.
That's good for more silence.
Ted realizes he's panting, has run a race, is still sprinting. He can't imagine how much whiskey it would take to calm him. He looks to Mary, Mary dressed more formally than the rest of the family, Mary detached in her pleasant way from all the hubbub, an only child who's found herself in the center ring of a circus. Ernest's beautiful Mary. Ted bumps her knee with his own. He looks up at his image of her in the mural. It's sexy, it's good, it's dangerous. He leans to her, whispers, "I love you."
She turns to him, incredulous, and though she's heard him she whispers back, "What?"
And Ted rises, as if to make a toast. He grips the table edge and begins to shake it. Kelly laughs, Ha ha ha, and Lily pats his back. Dad frowns at the rattling of the glassware. Mom says, "Theodore, stop." Ernest shakes his head, rolls his eyes. Jimmy puts his hands up, a calming gesture, looks as though he's seeing a dangerous stranger. Connie laughs at the joke of it, generous as always, keeps laughing even as her face registers that there's no joke.
Ted says, "Everybody?" and shakes the table harder.
"Teddy?" Mary says gently.
"Now, Ted. Ted E. Boy," Dad says soothingly.
Ernest stands too, puts a hand on the table to steady it.
Ted looks up at his mural, the images of each of his siblings, his parents, his nieces, his sisters-in-law. He feels calm, composed, sure of himself for the first time maybe ever. He gives a croak and heaves his side of the table into the air. Ernest's hand upon it is as nothing to Ted's strange strength. The plates across the way slide into Connie's lap, into Jimmy's. Jimmy leaps up, catches the lighted candles as they head for the floor. Bean hops and perches out of the way on her chair, delighted. Big Kelly saves baby Erin, stands and spins, but Connie's too late, stays in her armless chair, catches the table in her lap, shrieks.
Ted heaves again, and the half-carved turkey shoots full speed onto Jimmy's feet before he can put the candles down, before he can do anything. The creamed onions go to Connie, who's squawking, trapped, legs bruised for certain. The yams go to Beaner who—thrilled—knocks her chair over making the catch. The silverware clangs hitting the plates and glasses, which smash in quick series as they hit the hardwood floor. Beaner saves the salad, heavy wooden bowl, holds it a moment, then takes the opportunity to fling lettuce and tomato and round slices of carrot gaily in the air. The centerpiece, a bowl of ceramic fruit, slides quickly and crashes. The tablecloth slides away. Baby Erin laughs, Kelly pants, April wails. Only Mary has managed to save her plate, and holds it stoically as Connie in her struggles tilts her own chair till it falls, bringing the huge table all the way down on top of her. Jimmy cries out, gives the table another heave to free his wife. Dad stands with his eyebrows raised, still holding the encyclopedia. Mom moans. Thanksgiving dinner is on the floor. Everyone turns to stare at Ted, stands frozen, mouths open, hands upraised, frozen like that forever.
"Everybody?" Ted says finally. He looks mystified.
"Gonna deck you," says Ernest.
Connie has started to cry.
Lily, she just pats her Uncle Teddy's back.
"We'll get this picked up in no time," Dad says, as if the whole thing were a common Thanksgiving mishap. "No time at all!"
Ah! Love this story — the first thing I ever read by you, Bill. Glad you posted it here.
"That's good for more silence."Captures the mood of many a family feast in my childhood-like the strange areas of flat calm water before the big waves arrive,or the moment between the lightening and the arrival of the thunder;we know something is happening but we don't know what it is(Mr. Jones).
No ,I did not ever flip the table,or catch the lighted candles as they headed for the floor;but once my older brother did usurp my Father's chair at the head of the table during a stormy argument of a meal and my Father crowned him with a hot chicken pot pie into his long locks.
Thanks for the giving,and taking,and all that we are about to receive
Bill, I couldn't stand to read this on a screen so I went back to the book and reread this. Love this story. xo


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Category Archives: Video Games
Video Games
Guild Wars 2 Review
I think it's only fair to begin this post saying – I originally had no intention of playing Guild Wars 2. I played the original (at launch) and while it was fun for the first 15 levels or so, the end game content just seemed sort of "meh." Fortunately there was no recurring subscription – so I thought little of it. (I may at one point been playing $70/month for mine and my boyfriend at the time's various MMO habits.)
So I hadn't really been watching the GW2 coverage, I knew little about it but was looking for a new MMO, after downloading several and not really feeling terribly interested, I popped over to MMOhut.com's youtube feed and discovered that Guild Wars 2 was in it's "opening" weekend (for pre-orders and digital downloads at least.) I purchased two copies and set out into the land of Tyria!
I have to say that if I'd been paying attention to the information about the game I might have taken today off to really get to know the game. Guild Wars 2 is probably the best surprise I've seen all year from the MMO community! I was shocked to find how polished the product was (even on my older computer), and how well it ran even on launch weekend. The transitions were smooth, the graphics were well done, and for once I didn't look like some kind of burlap sack wearing n00b in the starter area. Added bonus – I could choose a variety of colors for my outfit. My inner girl rejoiced. Apparently so did my boyfriend (who is really into character customization).
I rolled a Human Engineer (I have a soft spot leftover from DOTA for engineers) and was really pleasantly surprised with the flow of the game. There is no questing system in the sense of say WoW, instead your current "quest" is geo-based. In other words wherever you are, there's stuff to kill but there's a bar that tracks your progress. You're still killing X of Y, but you don't have to store all those pesky quests, they just appear when you're in the right spot. Also I don't have to go tell Timmy's Mom that I killed 40 basket weaver spiders. I get the XP when I'm done with the last mob and Timmy's Mom sends me a nice mote in the mail (a la SWTOR) and tells me how awesome I am, complete with some of her hard earned coin. Wham Bam – Thanks Mam!
Combat is based on the weapon you have equipped in terms of maneuvers, but allows for a fair amount of customization for your preferred gameplay style. Every class has diversity and can heal itself and others. I was happy to find that engineers did in fact have turrets, and by the time I hit 11th lvl I had 3 turrets to micromanage to my hearts content.
Speaking of micromanaging, I'm really happy with the professions and gathering skills in this game. ANYONE can gather. Period. Auction House Whore your heart out! Not enough room in your inventory because you've picked up too many dingleberries? No problem! Just ship it off to your "collectibles" tab and make more room for loot. The collectibles tab is like Steve Job's iCloud on crack. Store everything in this handy pocket dimension window and craft till your you hit level 80. Yes. Crafting gives XP in this game. In fact the first person in GW2 was a crafter in France. I love crafting, and I'm so happy they included crafting as a viable method of XP gain. However I sense a nerf to be honest…. So get in there now and pound away. I know I am.
So you're asking – what's the downside?
Well for one the Auction House seems to give me the #failwhale picture all the time. (Yeah, it's some cute animal asleep but I just keep thinking of the whale). While this isn't a drawback persay, I'm concerned what it will do to the player based economy when it opens and the market floods.
The second thing I'd point out is that once you're on a server – that's it. It costs you a fee to move, but on the other hand eventually you'll be able to guest on other servers for things, and frankly they have the D3 style chat interface that allows you to talk to friends by account, not my character (yes there's also an invis mode for those nights you don't want to be hassled). I'm even in a Guild where no one is on my server.
Overall I have been really impressed with GW2, the polish and care taken to ensure this game's longevity has been pretty impressive. They've really solved a lot of the annoying MMO quirks we've seen so much of in the last 8 years or so. However I'm not sure what PVP or endgame looks like just yet. However I'm less inclined to PVP when I can craft my way to the top. All in all the cut scenes, voice acting, overall system, and extreme customization really swept me off my feet. Hopefully this is a new chapter of MMO before we inevitably are drawn into the cute and cuddly world of Pandas.
I really recommend this game to friends on the basis that they don't have to pay for a subscription, the replay value is pretty high and because it's really pretty damn fun. There's elements of Assasin's Creed, Diablo 3, WoW, SWTOR, WHO and a few others in there is you're willing to look. The devs took their time and I really think it shows.
And just in case you were curious – here's the whole UI –
It's Official – www.d10again.com
It's official – I bought the domain name. Now I feel like I've reached the "big time."
Also good job to WordPress for reminding me every time I look at the dashboard – genius marketing there guys. Take my money, give me a real domain.
So I find myself very busy these days with video and photo shoots, LARPs, convention season, and a variety of projects, (I tend to play less video games as it warms up.) However as many of my readers are SW:TOR folks, I felt the need to pause for a moment and discuss something going on in my SW:TOR life.
I've not been able to play the game much of late, however I keep up on the goings on of the community because I produce a live radio show called The Nar Shadaa Lounge (Live every Tuesday at 9pm eastern). I mostly do imaging, and social media for them or hang out in IRC (It's hosted on siradio.fm and they have an active IRC family akin to the one I had when I was on MMORadio all those many years ago.) But an interesting thing happened this weekend :
The lead talent got a warning in game for posting about his show (He does three actually, one for flashpoints, the regular one and another one). All the shows are live and intended to be interactive within the game. But this brought up some interesting points to debate. (Which we did a lot of on air as they had me on to help out on Tuesday). Where are the lines for this sort of thing? Should Bioware deter the community from advertising community events? Were does community end and spamming begin? How much is too much? I've done in game shows before, and really my takeaway from all this is that I think BioWare has some room to grow in terms of community engagement and dealing with the rapid fanbase of an MMO.
Either way, I love the game, and the show and I think this is an opportunity for the show to take this and turn it around into a positive. If I had the time, I think I'd find every last SW:TOR podcast and let them know about what happened if only to keep them from getting a warning as well….
Actually I may well do it anyways. It's not about villainizing BW because those ToS are there to protect them and their CSRs from spammers and the like – it's about helping the journalists of the community stay safe and continue to be on air.
Either way, I think it's high time I jump back into that game this evening and play a few hours. I'm still in the low 30s with my main because of all the other stuff going on, but my love of the game, the IP and the community is strong. The force is still with me.
Guest Hosting on SW:TOR Podcast
I'm hanging out with the Alvians this evening on The Nar Shadaa Lounge on SI Radio.
I'll be joining them on their podcast tonight. Drunken Vengeance indeed! Every Tuesday night at 9pm Eastern you can tune in for the latest from SW:TOR
SW:TOR – Sneaking a dating sim in there for +150 Addiction
First I want to clarify my level of dork-i-tude here. I logged out of SW:TOR after playing for roughly 10 hours and then laid down on the couch to watch a Star Wars Marathon. You know, because I'd clearly not had enough of the world. (The originals not the prequels mind you.)
If you've read my other Star Wars posts, you probably have noticed that I enjoyed Beta, and now that I'm in the Gold (live) edition I'm enjoying that as well. Particularly PVP (even though I'm to terribly good at it), Space Missions (which I do seem to be good at) and Crafting in particular. Crafting requires a fair amount of micro-management of your companions but that sort of play is one of my favorite things in MMOs. (I think it speaks to my estrogen driven need to organize things)
Which brings me to those who do all of your crafting bidding – the companions.
Chances are that if you are playing SW:TOR you are already familiar with the fact that some of the companions are "Romance-able" which is to say there are opportunities to buy them copious amounts of expensive gifts, and maybe get some play in return. However you want to cut it though, achieving the proverbial "Giggity" motivates a lot of us – plus it's just fun to see how it all happens (not literally, just the lead up). What this seems to result in (at least in those I've
observed from myself, my guild, and my household) is behavior that is tailored to ensuring your companion is pleased – thereby raising the chance to make with the bang bang. This goes way beyond the constant maintenance of the tamogatchis of the 90s and the prized hunt for the perfect WoW pets off yester-mmo but instead I believe that it actually alters our playing psychology and motivates us to make moral story choices based on – the approval of our companions.
Now maybe you're the opposite – maybe you want to piss your companion off, but I would argue you're still making choices based on the reaction of your companion! You're still being motivated by your companion's moral code – just to the opposite side. This is genius on Bioware's part. It's a way to make things replayable and as far as I can tell that's the endgame hope – play the game for the love of the story and the "Guess what ____ will say/do next!" Even if you've got a level 50 (the current cap), chances are you're anticipating trying a different quest chain.
(If you're curious there's some cool articles that talk about how SW:TOR was written and what the documents looked like for the various quest chains.)
I've found often myself wondering "Hey – what will my companion think of this?" during quest chains. I've also noticed that the Empire side characters might have a few more light side points (especially the Bounty Hunters who get Mako who seems to be a bit morally questionable herself, but for the most part is a good person.) All in all the companions have altered the landscape of the game making us reconsider if we really want to vent those spies out of the airlock in front of our companion – which begs the question – who's really running the show? You or your "possible" lay?
This is a true case of the game mirroring life.
As for me, I'll be over here trying to get Tharan to do my Landry.
A sight-seeing stroll through SWTOR
Twas the last day of SW:TOR's beta, and I found myself not wanting to move the story forward anymore (despite the fact that I'm playing Republic at launch. So I finished up the arc I was on and went on walk about. There's a lot of fun details and environmental touches that the game holds if you take a few moments to look around. The gem above struck me because from far away I thought it was an AT-AT.
Amused by the show of imperial force I headed into local Imperial city to snap some other shots. The cities, space ports and cantinas are some of the finest places to find some interesting characters. These folks apparently had caught some rebel scum and the female Captain seemed determined to lecture them until their ears bled.
Making my way into the local cantina I found some poor guy who had been assigned to clean up the floors outside what might have been the bathrooms. Rebel or not – that's a horrible job. Cleaning a cantina has got to be a terrifying, humbling, and disgusting job. I decided to stand over him and share the lecture I had seent he Capt give him outside to help with morale. He didn't seem interested.
But that wasn't the only interesting sight the cantina held, oh no. Per the usual Star Wars experience there were slutty
twi'leks. Everywhere. Now I get it – that's what that race is known for, but I played one of them in SWG so they have a special place in my heart. Seeing them objectified just doesn't sit well with me. So I took pictures and threw credits at them. You know. For taxi fare.
But it's not enough to have half nekkid Twi'leks. No, that wont do! This is the future, or the past or this has all happened before and will all happen again – whatever.
The point is – holowhores.
For some reason the Twi'leks needed to be objectified further in a holographic for where they can properly be ogled? Again I did the only human thing and threw some credits at them and told them I could /flourish better then them.
But it wasn't enough to ogle the women-folk, I had to see what the band members had going on. There was a Twi'lek and a Rodian going at it on the kloo horn and key-tar with the usual number of dancers. But
there… back int he corner dancing alone next to the jukebox was some corn-fed wide-shouldered creepy guy. He bopped and shook in the shadows, possibly watching the guys on stage, possibly eyeing the reveler in black? Who knows. But Mr. Beefcake is that guy in the club. You know the one. Sometimes I scam him for drinks.
Tired of half nekkid women, I headed to the starport to see what was going on over there. I bumped into a threesome of imperials who seemed to be reprimanding their own peers. This was not the first time I had run past this group. Last time the gentleman on the right was outright cussing her out, waving his hands and accusing her of something. I didn't stop to ask. This time around I was more stuck by the early Leia hair and the fact that now the two guys seemed to be considering how to punish her. Since server reset was coming I threw her a gun, some credits, and some advice.
"Alvis shot first"
Boarding my ship for places unknown, I stopped to take a photo of this neat looking droid. Nothing nifty about him – just
thought he looked cool. It's clear that a lot of work went into creating a lot of the characters around the game. Even the dewbacks looked good!
It was then that I discovered that I could do space combat. Now I've never really enjoyed space combat in other games (SWG:JTL most notably) but I did play a lot of flight/fighter sims as a kid so I usually try them at least once. (I suck at BF:1942 despite my best efforts) I was shocked to find that i really really loved the space combat in SWTOR. It's not really like flying at all, it's more like a mini game you'd find in a browser or in an RPG for a console, but clicking away like a madwoman – I found myself repeating quests in space out of sheer entertainment.
The ship flies on rail and you have to shoot targets, take out fighters and place your missiles wisely. Maybe I enjoyed it because I felt good at it. Maybe it was really easy – either way I'm going to have a LOT of ship upgrades come launch.
It was a really great last day of Beta. I was grateful to get to see more of the game (I got to 20, woo!) and even got my "love interest" companion. Who I promptly flirted with until he was awkward. I'm getting this game, and I miss it's warm embrace already. But I know the wait will be well worth it. And when that time comes – I already logged the time off request.
See you in SWTOR!

subset: commoncrawl


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Minister to discuss climate change, low-carbon economy and clean technology
VANCOUVER, Feb. 29, 2016 The Honourable Catherine McKenna, Minister of Environment and Climate Change, will attend this year's GLOBE Summit in Vancouver. GLOBE is North America's largest and longest‑running conference dedicated to business innovation for the planet.
Minister McKenna will join 1600 business and government leaders from more than 50 countries. Her participation will highlight Canada's role in stimulating innovation, green growth, resource efficiency and the development of clean technology as part of the Government of Canada's work to address climate change following the Paris Agreement.
Minister McKenna will meet with business leaders and stakeholders while in Vancouver, and will also be participating in the following events that will be open to media:
"There are tremendous opportunities for local, national and international businesses through the development of a green and sustainable economy. Canada has the potential to prosper in clean energy, technology and other growing industries that are less impactful than many staples of the high‑carbon economy. Together, we can create a cleaner and more prosperous economy."
– The Honourable Catherine McKenna, Minister of Environment and Climate Change
Quick facts
Associated link
Visit Canada's Action on Climate Change for the latest information on Canada's actions at home and abroad on climate change.
Environment and Climate Change Canada's Twitter page
Conserve, Restore, and Connect with Nature Facebook page
SOURCE Environment and Climate Change Canada
For further information: Caitlin Workman, Press Secretary, Office of the Minister of Environment and Climate Change, 819-938-9436; Media Relations, Environment and Climate Change Canada, 819-938-3338RELATED LINKS
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Browse our custom packages or build your own to meet your unique communications needs.
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Nadya Domingo
our latest posts
ANDPOP Bookshelf: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows ...
Every week, one of ANDPOP's amazing team of writers will help fill our bookshelf as they tell us all about their favourite books. This week, Nadya Domingo tells us why Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling is one of her favourites. My life will never be the same after reading J.K. Rowling's Harry […]Posted on March 26, 2013 at 1:46 pm
Cats argue while trying to play Patty Cake
Usually, animal lip-dub videos can either be brilliant or an absolute fail. It depends on if the narrator can embody the particular animal that they are portraying. In the video "Cats playing patty-cake," the creators seem to do an awesome job at embodying a quarrel between two cats. The felines begin a civil game of […]Posted on January 1, 2013 at 10:34 am
Top 10 movies to watch while hungover on New Years
10. Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone If Harry Potter doesn't make you happy, then I have no words for you. Seeing the heartwarming face of Hagrid, or witnessing the blossoming friendship of the Trio is enough to cure a hangover. The nostalgia of your Potter childhood is enough to give you butterflies — and […]Posted on January 1, 2013 at 8:00 am
10 amazing game show moments
10. Pork…what?! 9. Woman solves Wheel of Fortune with one letter 8. Who Wants to be a Millionaire fail 7. What kind of candy in bed? 6. A really, really enthusiastic Price is Right contestant 5. A million dollars in 8 seconds 4. ALL the number one answers! 3. Merideth Viera did NOT wink 2. […]Posted on December 31, 2012 at 1:00 pm
Goats just wanna have fun compilation
Serious question: what is it with the Internet and goats?! First, people were obsessed with the strange noises that they make, which then lead to the conclusion that these animals are weird and creepy. Out of the mass of goat-loving hysteria has come yet another compilation of goats. Recently, they're just up to some foolery […]Posted on December 30, 2012 at 1:00 pm


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Monica Vinader
Rose Gold-Plated Linear Blue Cord Friendship Bracelet
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|Date / Time
|Friday July 28, 2017 @10:27AM
|First Human Embryos Edited In US
|Saturday March 11, 2017 @02:51PM
|New Bill Would Allow Employers To Demand Genetic Testing From Workers
|Thursday February 16, 2017 @12:23PM
|Ethicists Advise Caution In Applying CRISPR Gene Editing To Humans
|Sunday October 23, 2016 @12:50PM
|DNA Testing For Jobs May Be On Its Way, Warns Gartner
|Wednesday September 07, 2016 @12:44PM
|We Risk Programming Inequality into Our DNA
|Thursday August 04, 2016 @03:48PM
|Scientists Argue the US Ban on Human Gene Editing Will Leave It Behind
|Sunday December 06, 2015 @01:44PM
|Google Proposes 'Needle-less' System For Drawing Blood
|Wednesday December 02, 2015 @06:09AM
|Washington Hosts Summit On Gene Editing and 'Designer Babies'
|Wednesday October 14, 2015 @12:26PM
|In 26 Hours, Sick Newborns Go From Genome Scan To Diagnosis
|Thursday April 23, 2015 @03:41PM
|Chinese Scientists Claim To Have Genetically Modified Human Embryos
|Tuesday March 03, 2015 @12:17PM
|Supreme Court Gives Tacit Approval To Warrantless DNA Collection
|Thursday October 16, 2014 @04:44PM
|Scanning Embryos For Super-Intelligent Kids Is On the Horizon
|Tuesday October 07, 2014 @09:47AM
|Genes Don't Just Predict Intelligence, But Also How Well You Do In School
|Friday July 25, 2014 @08:35PM
|Google Looking To Define a Healthy Human
|Thursday May 08, 2014 @05:03PM
|Single Gene Can Boost IQ By Six Points
|Friday October 18, 2013 @01:47PM
|Give Your Child the Gift of an Alzheimer's Diagnosis
|Thursday October 03, 2013 @01:08PM
|Personal Genomics Firm 23andMe Patents Designer Baby System
|Friday September 06, 2013 @06:22AM
|NIH Studies Universal Genome Sequencing At Birth
|Tuesday August 20, 2013 @11:44AM
|Predictors of Suicidal Behavior Found In Blood
|Tuesday July 16, 2013 @04:46PM
|Scientists Seek Biomarkers For Violence
|Thursday July 11, 2013 @07:20PM
|Iris Scans Are the New School IDs
|Tuesday May 07, 2013 @08:37AM
|Device Can Extract DNA With Full Genetic Data In Minutes
|Friday March 01, 2013 @11:04PM
|The Next Revolution In Medicine: Genome Scans For Everyone
|Thursday October 18, 2012 @02:09PM
|How Hair Can be Used To Track Where You've Been
|Saturday August 18, 2012 @05:14PM
|Genetically Engineering Babies a Moral Obligation, Says Ethicist
|Wednesday June 06, 2012 @04:33PM
|Sequencing the Unborn
|Tuesday May 29, 2012 @03:03PM
|The Race To $1,000 Human Genome Sequencing
|Monday February 20, 2012 @05:13PM
|Commercial, USB-Powered DNA Sequencer Coming This Year
|Sunday January 15, 2012 @12:24AM
|A DNA Sequencer Cheap Enough For (Some) Doctors' Offices
|Thursday December 22, 2011 @07:52PM
|Do You Have the Right Stuff To Be an Astronaut?
|Monday November 21, 2011 @04:09PM
|DNA Test To Determine Kids' Sports Futures
|Friday October 07, 2011 @10:33AM
|Satellite Glitch Leaves Northern Canada In the (Internet) Dark
|Sunday July 24, 2011 @10:28AM
|Personal DNA Sequencing Machine One Step Closer
|Wednesday February 16, 2011 @04:52PM
|Man Open Sources His Genetic Data
|Monday January 10, 2011 @03:18AM
|Consumer Genetic Testing Available In Australia
|Friday December 31, 2010 @05:56PM
|Cheaters Exposed Analyzing Statistical Anomalies
|Wednesday December 22, 2010 @09:56PM
|New Tech Promises Cheap Gene Sequencing In Minutes
|Friday November 26, 2010 @04:20PM
|Scientists Attach Bar Codes To Embryos
|Thursday October 28, 2010 @03:55PM
|Researchers Find a 'Liberal Gene'
|Thursday September 30, 2010 @04:05PM
|Scientists Stack Up New Genes For Height
|Tuesday August 24, 2010 @11:29AM
|Skeletal Identification
|Thursday July 22, 2010 @08:08PM
|Brain Scans May Help Guide Career Choice
|Thursday July 08, 2010 @07:58PM
|Stanford, U.C. Berkeley Offer Students Genetic Testing
|Thursday May 20, 2010 @08:52PM
|House Votes To Expand National DNA Arrest Database
|Wednesday May 19, 2010 @04:52PM
|UC Berkeley Asking Incoming Students For DNA
|Wednesday May 12, 2010 @09:05AM
|Genetic Testing Coming To a Drugstore Near You
|Monday March 29, 2010 @04:07PM
|Good SAT Scores Lead To Higher Egg Donor Prices
|Saturday March 27, 2010 @02:15AM
|Could Colorblindness Cure Be Morally Wrong?
|Thursday March 18, 2010 @09:38PM
|Killer Convicted, Using Dog DNA Database
|Tuesday March 16, 2010 @05:09AM
|Yale Law Student Wants Government To Have Everybody's DNA
|Friday March 12, 2010 @08:35PM
|Hunting Disease Origins By Whole-Genome Sequencing
|Monday March 01, 2010 @08:31PM
|Newborns' Blood Used To Build Secret DNA Database
|Friday February 05, 2010 @09:47AM
|Routine DNA Tests For Newborns Mean Looming Privacy Problems
|Saturday January 09, 2010 @10:46AM
|Scientists and Lawyers Argue For Open US DNA Database
|Monday November 16, 2009 @12:40PM
|New Dating Sites Match People Through DNA Tests
|Wednesday November 04, 2009 @12:16PM
|Murderer With "Aggression Genes" Gets Reduced Sentence
|Thursday October 29, 2009 @12:17PM
|Bad Driving May Have Genetic Basis
|Wednesday October 21, 2009 @01:33PM
|100,000 Californians To Be Gene Sequenced
|Tuesday October 06, 2009 @11:28AM
|IBM Researchers Working Toward Cheap, Fast DNA Reader
|Wednesday September 30, 2009 @01:35PM
|Scientists Decry "Horrifying" UK Border Test Plan
|Wednesday September 16, 2009 @10:52AM
|Heart Monitors In Middle School Gym Class?
|Saturday August 22, 2009 @11:26PM
|How To Prove Someone Is Female?
|Tuesday August 18, 2009 @08:37AM
|Scientists Learn To Fabricate DNA Evidence
|Saturday August 15, 2009 @10:26AM
|Chinese Clinic Uses DNA Tests To Predict Kids' Talents
|Thursday August 13, 2009 @07:51AM
|DNA tests predict children's abilities
|Wednesday August 05, 2009 @12:51AM
|Psychopaths Have Brain Structure Abnormality
|Sunday July 26, 2009 @07:41PM
|Reprogrammed Skin Cells Turned Into Baby Mice
|Wednesday July 15, 2009 @09:51PM
|Job rejections because of physical appearance
|Monday July 13, 2009 @08:26PM
|Sequencing a Human Genome In a Week
|Wednesday July 08, 2009 @04:22PM
|Human Sperm Produced In the Laboratory
|Tuesday June 16, 2009 @11:53AM
|Fertility Clinic Bows To Pressure, Nixes Eye- and Hair-Color Screening
|Tuesday June 09, 2009 @12:07PM
|Direct-To-Consumer Genetics Testing Makes a Splash In Boston
|Monday May 25, 2009 @12:08AM
|In Istanbul, Cameras To Recognize 15,000 Faces/sec.
|Monday May 18, 2009 @01:46PM
|13,000 Volunteer To Put Personal Genomes Online
|Wednesday May 13, 2009 @01:00PM
|Breast Cancer Gene Lawsuit Argues Patents Invalid
|Sunday April 19, 2009 @09:22AM
|FBI and States Vastly Expand DNA Collection, Databases
|Thursday February 26, 2009 @04:29PM
|Designer Babies
|Thursday February 05, 2009 @06:18PM
|Washington State Wants DNA From All Arrestees
|Monday January 19, 2009 @08:35AM
|One In 100 Carry Mutation For Heart Disease
|Thursday January 15, 2009 @09:24PM
|Biometric Passports Agreed To In EU
|Sunday January 11, 2009 @12:16PM
|My Genome, My Self?
|Tuesday January 06, 2009 @03:30PM
|New Method To Revolutionize DNA Sequencing
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|Baby To Be Born Without the Gene For Breast Cancer
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|Human Rights Court Calls UK DNA Database a 'Breach of Rights'
|Wednesday October 29, 2008 @10:54AM
|The Personal Genome Project Hits the Web
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|Repairing Genetic Mutations With Lasers?
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|Identifying a Culprit In a Bloodbath
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|Thursday July 10, 2008 @02:25PM
|How To Check Yourself For Abnormal Genes
|Saturday June 28, 2008 @02:32PM
|Where To Draw the Line With Embryo Selection?
|Tuesday June 17, 2008 @04:58PM
|California Cracks Down On Genetic Testing
|Monday May 26, 2008 @05:45PM
|President Bush Signs Genetic Nondiscrimination Act
|Monday May 12, 2008 @08:37PM
|First Genetically Modified Human Embryo Under Review
|Saturday April 26, 2008 @02:20PM
|Bill Prohibiting Genetic Discrimination Moves Forward
|Wednesday April 23, 2008 @03:39PM
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|Wednesday April 23, 2008 @02:34AM
|Google Invests In Genetic Indexing
|Sunday April 06, 2008 @10:39PM
|Scientists Discover Gene For Ruthlessness
|Monday March 17, 2008 @03:53PM
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|Monday March 17, 2008 @04:54AM
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|The 1000 Genomes Project
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|A DNA Database For All U.S. Workers?
Two percent of zero is almost nothing.


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Arizona Hiking Information
Discovering Arizona is best done on foot wading rivers, creeks and trudging along back trails and pathways. Nothing is more fun than turning a corner to see breathtaking landscapes, vistas, Indian ruins or wildlife. It's wild and free. I'm furnishing some additional links to sites you'll find fascinating and informative.
Arizona Wilderness Map Excellent information! New..10/12/03
Desert Animals & Wildlife Index - DesertUSA
ARIZONA LIFE Master Map of Arizona Highways, with Area Maps showing Towns


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The world of pharmaceuticals may have faced a patent cliff in recent years, but brand name drugs are still generating billions upon billions in annual sales in the United States alone. Some of these so-called blockbuster drugs are even generating more than $1 billion each and every quarter in the United States. These drugs treat depression, arthritis, acid reflux, high cholesterol, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and more. After tallying the top seven drugs alone, the U.S. sales are more than $9.1 billion per quarter.
A new list compiled by Drugs.com for the first quarter of 2013 shows that all but one of the seven drugs with $1 billion in quarterly sales saw total sales gains. Only three of the wider list of the top 20 drugs in quarterly sales posted negative sales trends. You will notice that many of the drugs had negative unit (prescriptions) trends again in the first quarter, but this was seen by and large a year ago as well.
We used data from Drugs.com, and this represents the top-selling drugs and medicines measured as U.S. national sales through both retail and hospital channels. This list is for the first quarter of 2013, and we have provided an image of the top drug sales on a chart below.
Abilify by Otsuka Pharmaceutical Co. led the list, at $1.526 billion in quarterly sales with a 3.24% gain. What is interesting here is that the number of units sold in the quarter was shown to be down by 5.89% to 2.477 million units sold, despite a continual rise in total sales. This will seem sad to be the list leader to many people, because Abilify is prescribed as an add-on drug treatment for adults with unresolved symptoms of depression after at least six weeks on an antidepressant. It is also meant to be taken in addition to an antidepressant rather than as a standalone drug.
Nexium by AstraZeneca PLC (NYSE: AZN) was second on the list, at $1.458 billion in quarterly sales with a 1.21% gain. After a small uptick in dollars sold, there was actually a small drop of 2.47% in units to 6.667 million units in the quarter. Nexium is known as the Purple Pill to treat heartburn caused by acid reflux.
Cymbalta by Eli Lilly & Co. (NYSE: LLY) came in third on the list, with $1.296 billion in quarterly sales after a 5.65% gain. Cymbalta units fell by 2.09% to 6.502 million units. Cymbalya is meant to treat major depressive disorder (MDD), generalized anxiety disorder (GAD), for the management of diabetic peripheral neuropathic pain and fibromyalgia, and to manage chronic musculoskeletal pain due to chronic osteoarthritis pain and chronic low back pain.
Crestor by AstraZeneca PLC (NYSE: AZN) was fourth, with quarterly sales of $1.295 billion after a 1.59% gain. Unit sales were down by 2.93% to 4.106 million units in the first quarter. Crestor is prescribed (along with diet) to lower high cholesterol and to slow the buildup of plaque in arteries.
Advair Diskus by GlaxoSmithKline PLC (NYSE: GSK) came in at number five, at $1.277 billion in sales after a 6% rise. This was the first of the list with a per unit gain, with sales up 1.81% to 5.959 million units. Advair Diskus is for the treatment of asthma in patients four years and older. It is approved for adults with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), including chronic bronchitis, emphysema or both.
Humira by Abbott Laboratories (NYSE: ABT) was ranked number six, with $1.217 billion in quarterly sales after a 0.91% gain. This drug's unit sales were down by 5.68% to 631,000 units in the first quarter. Humira is prescribed for moderate to severe rheumatoid arthritis, moderate to severe chronic plaque psoriasis, moderate to severe Crohn's disease, moderate to severe ulcerative colitis, ankylosing spondylitis, psoriatic arthritis and in moderate to severe polyarticular juvenile idiopathic arthritis.
Enbrel by Amgen Inc. (NASDAQ: AMGN) was the last of the top seven drugs with sales of more than $1 billion, at $1.075 billion in quarterly revenue. This was also the sole drug on the list that had a decline in total dollar sales, with a 1.22% drop. Enbrel even led the top drugs here on this list with a 6.83% decline to 969,000 units sold. Enbrel is indicated for moderate to severe plaque psoriasis, psoriatic arthritis and moderate to severe rheumatoid arthritis.
You probably noticed that there was a steady decline in unit sales in the first quarter. In most cases, this was also the case in the first quarter of 2012. It seems that the trend can be influenced by timing as well as by rotational use or by the public's routine annual changes, more so than drug companies arbitrarily raising their prices each year to make up for lower unit sales.
We also have two runner-ups here that are close to $1 billion in quarterly sales. Remicade from Johnson & Johnson (NYSE: JNJ), under the old Centocor and Janssen unit, posted a 3.58% sales gain to $969 million. Copaxone from Teva Pharmaceutical Industries Ltd. (NYSE: TEVA) posted a 1.98% sales gain to $926 million.


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The VA Showed Me Love
Drafted at the tender age of 18, Army Veteran, Gordon Wallace, left his native home in Hawaii in 1970 to serve his country in Vietnam. As one of 16 children, Wallace left school after the seventh grade to work in the family business. Education wasn't important for the boys. "The boys had to work to help feed the family," said Wallace.
Uncle Sam gave him a job as a combat engineer. As a heavy equipment operator, Wallace built bridges, cleared roads, lead conveys with food, ammunition and whatever was needed to take care of the troops. Looking out in the distance, Wallace remembers the daily ambushes.
"I never felt love, even in my large family. The VA showed me love. They pulled me out of my shell. When I came back home, I really didn't come home. A big part of me stayed in Vietnam. I had trouble sleeping, was depressed and had trouble readjusting to life as I knew it."
Wallace's counselor encouraged him to participate in the Games as another way to interact with Veterans who have shared similar experiences. "The camaraderie with other Vietnam Veterans has been a beautiful thing. We've shared our stories, the scary times, and we've helped each other just in the short time we've been here. I can finally smile again. What a joy to have come home," said Wallace.
"I want to encourage everyone to enjoy our beautiful Honolulu


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Gender discrimination in citizenship law is unconstitutional, but court denies relief Featured
- Written by PhilippineNews
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- Published in Atty. Emmanuel S. Tipon
- Read 1282 times
The Immigration and Nationality Act provides the framework for acquiring U.S. citizenship at birth by a child born outside the United States when one parent is a U.S. citizen and the other a citizen of another nation. Under 8 U.S.C. § 1401(a)(7) (1958 ed.), which was then the governing law, in the case of married couples, the U.S. citizen parent must have 10 years physical presence in the United States prior to the child's birth, "at least five of which were after attaining" age 14.
This rule is made applicable to unwed U.S.-citizen fathers by Section 1409(a), but not to unwed U.S.-citizen mothers. Under Section 1409(c) there is an exception for unwed U.S.-citizen mothers whose citizenship can be transmitted to a child born abroad if the mother has lived continuously in the United States for just one year prior to the child's birth.
Jose Morales, a United States citizen, moved to the Dominican Republic 20 days short of his 19th birthday, therefore failing to satisfy the requirement of Section 1401(a)(7) that he had at least five years physical presence in the United States after attaining age 14. There he lived with a Dominican woman who gave birth to Morales-Santana. Jose Morales later married Morales-Santana's mother. Morales-Santana came to the United States. In 2000, he was placed in removal proceedings based on several criminal convictions. Morales-Santana claimed he could not be deported because he was a U.S. citizen at birth based on the U.S. citizenship of his biological father Jose Morales. An Immigration Judge denied Morales-Santana's citizenship claim and ordered him removed. He later moved to reopen the proceedings asserting that the Government's refusal to recognize that he derived citizenship from his U.S.-citizen father violated the equal protection guarantee of the U.S. Constitution. The Board of Immigration Appeals denied the motion. The Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit reversed, holding that the differential treatment of unwed mothers and fathers was unconstitutional. The Court of Appeals further held that Morales-Santana derived citizenship through his father, just as he would were his mother the U.S. citizen.
On June 12, 2017, the U.S. Supreme Court held in Sessions v. Morales-Santana, No. 15-1191, that the difference in the residency requirement for unwed U.S. citizen fathers and mothers "violates the equal protection principle". The Court said that Sections 1401 and 1409 "date from an era when the lawbooks of our Nation were rife with overbroad generalizations about the way men and women are. . . Today, laws of this kind are subject to review under the heightened scrutiny that now attends 'all gender-based classifications'" During the era when Section 1409 was enacted (1940), "two once habitual, but now untenable, assumptions pervaded our Nation's citizenship laws and underpinned judicial and administrative rulings: In marriage, husband is dominant, wife subordinate; unwed mother is the natural and sole guardian of a non-marital child." §1409(a) and (c)'s discrete duration-of-residence requirements for unwed mothers and fathers who have accepted parental responsibility is stunningly anachronistic." "Those disparate criteria . . . cannot withstand inspection under a Constitution that requires the Government to respect the equal dignity and stature of its male and female citizens."
"While the equal protection infirmity in retaining a longer physical-presence requirement for unwed fathers than for unwed mothers is clear," the Supreme Court held that it "is not equipped to grant the relief Morales-Santana seeks, i.e., extending to his father (and, derivatively, to him) the benefit of the one-year physical-presence term §1409(c) reserves for unwed mothers." The court reasoned that "if §1409(c)'s one-year dispensation were extended to unwed citizen fathers, would it not be irrational to retain the longer term when the U. S.-citizen parent is married? Disadvantageous treatment of marital children in comparison to nonmarital children is scarcely a purpose one can sensibly attribute to Congress." The Court suggested that "Congress may address the issue and settle on a uniform prescription that neither favors nor disadvantages any person on the basis of gender. In the interim, as the Government suggests, §1401(a)(7)'s now-five- year requirement should apply, prospectively, to children born to unwed U. S.-citizen mothers."
OBSERVATION: This was a "Pyrrhic victory" for Morales-Santana. He won the argument that the different residency requirements for unwed fathers and mothers denied equal protection of the laws, but lost the case because the court could not grant him U.S. citizenship that would have been a solid defense in his deportation proceedings.
What's Up Atty 2017 06 14 Gender discrimination in citizenship law


text: I finally finished a big one!!! I started this last summer, so it was not a quick project, and I'm very proud to have finally finished Brennan's "big boy" quilt. Not that he hasn't been in a regular bed for a while, but this is the first bed-size quilt I've made for him since he has. It matches new curtains I made for his room last summer. (I know, don't you usually make the curtains after the quilt?!) (more…)


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Dillon Mayor candidates discuss philosophy & ethics: Candidate Dr. Michael Klakken
Question 1 on philosophy – The mayor election is nonpartisan and yet both of the candidates in the past have claimed to be Republicans. A good tactic since in any given election, the electorate in Beaverhead County will vote 75 to 80% Republican. The Republican philosophy of small government and low taxes seems at odds with City of Dillon actions in recent years in which water and sewer rates have been raised twice, the street maintenance fee has been doubled and the number of city employees has dramatically increased.
How do you as a Republican, reconcile the actions of city government with your personal GOP philosophy? (up to 500 words)
I think best way to describe myself is a fiscal conservative. In the past I have voted for candidates or issues that I felt were closest to my positions. When I was on the city council I researched each and every item before the council. I do not recall voting for any tax increases in my tenure on the city council. I believe that the current water and sewer rates are too high and steps need to be taken to decrease the monthly payments. I attended some of the public meetings on the new sewer expansion project and voiced my concerns. I believe that the City moved too fast on bonding for this project. We were told, at the meetings that I attended; that the new EPA guidelines had not yet been finalized and there was no guarantee the new system would meet the new guidelines. I would not have started such a large scale project until the guidelines were finalized and then designed a system to meet the requirements. I am aware that interest rates are low but I do not believe you should continue to put the city further and further into debt. The Water and Sewer Revenue bonds, series 2011, alone put the city approximately $23 million into debt! The current administration did not seem concerned that the rates would double and the hardships it would cause the rate payers.
The mayor resurfaced 4 blocks on Glendale at a huge cost to the street maintenance fund. The tax payer will be paying off this debt for many years and these payments could not be made unless rates were increased. I agree that Glendale needed repairs but the cost of the project was too large and when they bonded for the project they borrowed more money than required. In the last few weeks I have been walking around Dillon and there are many streets that need work. Until this debt is repaid other needed repairs will have to be delayed. I do not know what the plans are for the additional funds but it is my understanding that the bonds were structured so that no prepayment could be made for a certain number of years. I disagree with the current administration and feel that they were too willing to bond before it was absolutely necessary.
Until I am able to determine what each employee's responsibility is I cannot say that there are too many employees. I do believe that the increase in the city treasurer's hours and salary were not necessary. I also feel that the taxpayers are paying the city attorney's position too much money. The city is currently employing two part-time attorneys and I feel that if there is that much work it would be cheaper to hire one full time salary attorney instead of paying an hourly rate of approximately $120 for one of those attorneys.
Question 2 on ethics – At the insistence of two councilpersons (one of whom lives on the street and the other his relative), the City of Dillon approved a speed limit change on Thomsen Avenue from 25 MPH to 15 MPH. The Dillon Tribune continually pointed out at the time that the city did not follow state regulations in adopting the new speed limit and yet it still stands.
If elected, will the City of Dillon follow the laws and rules of the state as the citizens of Dillon are expected to do? (up to 500 words)
I strongly believe that the laws and rules must be followed. These procedures were set up to protect the tax payer and the city government. While on the council I was criticized for asking that the laws and rules be followed. If I pointed out that a law/rule was not followed the administration ignored or ridiculed my concerns. It is impossible to determine the future costs to the city to defend a position if the laws/rules are not followed. It is the responsibility of the Mayor and City Attorney to see that laws/rules are followed. When I was on the city council it was an unpaid position and most of the council relied on the City Attorney for legal advice. None of the council were lawyers and they had limited access to the laws/rules. If elected I will follow all laws/regulations to the best of my ability. If I make an error and it is brought to my attention I will take the possible and/or necessary steps to rectify the oversight. I do believe that the state regulations for speed limits should have been followed. If the street did not meet the requirements then the speed limit should have remained at 25.


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A/N: Ok I have rewriten my project and I got to say this is way better. This one is in Aida's point of view and it covers more of her emotions about Radames, but it ends the same way. It always does. New title as well, manly because I never write the same thing twice. On with the re-make!
"Stronger Type of Love: Aida's POV"
(This is the re-make of a scence from "Aida"-Narritive Verson)
Amneris and I look at Radames from next to the door of the palace. He was giving his things away and to my people at that. I can't explain but I felt gratified yet confused. Why was he doing this so sudden? Then I think,You know that you know you just don't want to say it.
I hate when I know that "I'm" right.
"Well it looks like he's preparing to move into the palace. So whatever doubts he had from the other night must be gone.", Amneris says completely confident.
She then turns and starts to leave. I try to follow her but she suddenly stops and turns around to me.
"Where are you going? Aida stay, apologize for me please." She tells me.
"Oh no I can't. I couldn't possibliy do that.", I repiled. I couldn't do it, that would mess up my not wanting to talk to him plan.
"Yes you can. Aida please." She grabs my hands.
"Princess please don't make me."
"I would never make you. I'm asking you, as a friend, could you talk to him for me? I never know what to say and you always say the right things."
She looks me in the eyes as she saids this. Her eyes were filled with love but they were also so desperate. She really wanted to get rid of those feelings of regret she had but she was trying to get me to do it for her when I was trying to stay my distance from Radames. These feelings I had seem to get out of control when I was around him yet Amneris was my friend. I had to help her.
"Ok, I will talk to him for you."
She was happy I said that. You could see it all on her face. She smiled and said, "Thank you so much Aida."
And with that she lefted. I turned around seeing that Radames and Mereb were just about done. Soon they were done and he sents Mereb off. Mereb leaves and Radames sees me off to the side, he walks up to me.
I still felt slightly uncomfortable but I gave myself a little push.
Just say what you have to and then leave. Nothing esle, remember your doing this for Amneris.
I took a deep breath to relax myself as he was getting closer. Soon he was right in front of me. He looked tried yet free if thats the word. It was like a weight was lifted or something, whatever it was it showed on his face.
"Thank you.", I said.
"I appreciate it, Captain. That was very kind of you." A warm smile appeared on my face. I could feel it. He smiled back.
"It was nothing. Actually..." Radames takes a look around to see nothing but his tent. "...it was everything, but it doesn't matter."
His eyes seemed to sparkle for a second there. It caught my attendtion but I also realized that it also blanked me for a moment. I quickly bring myself back to reality.
"Captain, I just came to let you know that the princess is sorry for what she said the other night and she also would like you to know-"
"Aida, please."
I was cut off by him. I could see in his eyes that he wasn't even thinking about her. He had no intention what so ever to talk about Amneris. This can't be good, I thought. I have to get out of here and fast. But I was stopped by his hand, he grabbed me by one of my wrist. I swung around quickly. He made me face him.
"Aida please don't go. I want to talk to you."
His words were very kind and soft. It drew me in but I quickly took myself out.
"I have the feeling that is not all you want.", I said angerly.
I can't believe that can out of my mouth. Yet I continued.
"You are betrothed to my mistress! Now let me go!", I said.
Not that I was mad or anything but I was scaried. I couldn't help it. I didn't want these emotions, not now, I'm not even sure if I wanted them later. I broke free of his grib. I stood there for what seemed like forever before he spoke to me again.
"That marriage means nothing. It was arranged by my father but it can always be unarranged by me." He moved closer to me again. I backed back and hit the wall. I hate walls. He moved his hands to my face, holding it in his hands. He was trying to make me stand still but it wasn't working, I pushed his hands away from me but I didn't move from the wall and he didn't move from in front of me.
"Radames you're an Egyptian! Nothing will ever change that fact or the fact that I'm Amneris's friend. Please don't- " I stopped, I was about to hit tears. I took a breath to help pull them back.
"I don't even know why you bothered to do any of this." I looked down. I couldn't stand to see his face any more. I had to get out, to leave as soon as possible. As if on command his hands hit the wall on each side of my head, keeping me from moving from that spot. He cornered me with his head down. He rose his head and looked me in the eyes.
"Oh don't you? We both know it had nothing to do with Amneris.", he said to me.
My eyes must had said something because he comes out with the statement, "Don't be scaried. Aida, I need to know."
His eyes were scaring me now, his voice was starting to be full of doubt. I have never seen a man who could give me such emotion but still look so strong.
"Know what?" My voice was shaking.
"I know you have feelings for me but I need to hear it. I need to be reassured. In these times no one can be too sure. Not without wild ambitious withen silght. Aida, you understand? Tell me how do you feel."
I was stunned. He acts like he knows me so well and yet I can't say what he says isn't ture. I change my expression.
"Yes, I understand. Without ones ambitious no heart could survive days apart or hurried nights." I respond with confidence.
"Aida, I can't stand that we have to lead these elabroate lives even though I think it's quite unbelievable. I don't want to live like that. Not anymore.", Radames responds back as he removes his hands from the wall.
I start to think about my father and my people. They too don't deserve these hard times but I want to feel something new and for once I don't want to be anything, just Aida.
"I'm so tired of all we're going through. Radames, I don't want to love like that. I don't want to do anything like that. Not anymore." I start to feel so hopeful but then I think about where I'm at, what I now am. A slave.
"But what can we do about it, Radames? Nothing." I felt so stupid. To get my hopes up like that.
Suddenly I see him reach for my hands again but this time I didn't pull back. I wanted him to hold them, I wanted him to hold me.
He kisses one of my hands.
"We don't have to. Not now. I just want this time to be..." He starts to kiss me on the arm and while he makes his way up he speaks in between his kissing, "..slower, gentler, wiser, and free." He makes it to my lips and stops. His smile returnes to his face, full and warm. My smile comes across my face as well, full and warm.
"So what are you saying?" Stupid question, I know but I wanted to see what esle he could come up with, he seems to be doing a good job so far. He starts to laugh lightly, he knew I was messing with him but he desides to play along.
"It means I want to be with you. Now and forever. Peaceful yet ture. Is that ok with you, Aida?"
He was trying to satisfy me and he successed too.
"Only if you promise to never let all the choices around us, to tear us apart and I will let my heart open to you." I say smiling.
"Deal, may our confession-"
"Be the start"
I cut him off but with reason. He looks confused for once.
"The start of what?", he questioned.
"The start of a new life." I answered. Then I go in for my kiss. He didn't hold back this time. The kiss felt so much more passion filled then last time, I guess it was because we both we're holding back emotion. I realized that uncertainty can really get in the way. We started to move towards the tent. And things kinda took off from there. As the sun goes down some and the afternoon starts coming in we laid in a passionate embrace.
Later on we had started talking again. After all that we went though it was nice to just talk without being hurried for once. I started to get a little cold and I guess I had started shaking too because he questioned me on it.
"Are you cold?", he asked.
I had to think about that question. I mean does he really want me to answer that. Let's do a recap, we just got done "rolling around" not too long ago, I just stop sweating a little, theres a slight brezze outside, and we have no blanket. Yes, I would think I'm cold but I can't say all that. No.
"Well you could have kept at least a blanket.", I respond.
He sits up a little when he says, "No. I could not. Man enters this world naked, without possessions."
He brings me closer to his face as he says, "I want to be a new man for you, Aida. Cleansed of my past sins."
Holding my face to his, he kisses me then we hear drums playing, kinda at a distance but close enough I guess. Radames looks up.
"What is it?", I asked.
"My armies. They have returned. Pharaoh will expect a victory celebration." He answers.
He gets up and starts to put his shirt back on.
"Go back to the palace. You'll be safe there.", he tells me.
I just nod and get up myself. I had to put my dress back on and check on Princess Amneris. Oh. I just remembered what I was here in the first place. Oh dear gods, help me. I was lost in my thoughts when Radames tries to leave but he then turns around. I looked up.
"What's wrong?", I asked.
"Nothing. I just remembered something. Here take this.", he says. He puts his amulet around my neck.
"If anyone stops you just show this to them and they'll let you pass."
He kisses me on the forehead and heads back out when I let something slip from my mouth.
"I love you." I hurry to cover my mouth with my hand.
Radames stops and turn around. He looks at me with a smile.
"I heared that." He walks back up behind me.
"Say it again. I command you.", he says joking.
I turn around and we started laughing because he knew I wasn't going to do anything just because he said so. Suddenly one of his soldiers enters without warning and I quickly turn around as Radames moves so that I'm behind him and the soldier couldn't see me.
"Captain!", the soldier called.
"I heard the drums-", Radames says.
"Yes sir, but we have captured the Nubian King!"
I don't know what he looked like but he sounded almost too joyful.
"The king? You have taken him alive? Find out which men are responsible for this. I'll see they receive the highest honors. Tell the others I'm on my way.", he says.
"Yes, Captain.", the soldier says. And with that he was gone and so was my happiness. I turn around with my head down and he turns to face me too. I couldn't see his face but if I lefted my head I wouldn't be able to see him anyway. My eyes were fulled, with tears. I couldn't fight these off.
"Aida, our countries are at war. I can't change that." He says as he tries to hug me but I didn't way it, I pushed him away. He didn't get it.
"But he's my...he's my king.", I said as my tears started to fall but I didn't care anymore.
"I'm sorry, Aida.", he says. I will say it was full of compassion but I couldn't hear it, my heart and mind was saying things so loud I couldn't hear what he said. I was scaried and lost. I had to go now before I did something I would regret. I ran out of the tent, crying.
I knew it wasn't Radames fault but my father...I had to think of a way to get him out of here. I started to wonder was there more then one type of love, I mean ture love? And could it be stronger then this love?


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Safe Mode is a feature of Windows Operating System, it has been specially designed to take care of all the viruses or any of the corrupt system files in your system. For those who do not know this feature, let me tell you that, this is a mode in which all the files and applications installed on the system have a very limited accessibility on the system. If you are not able to login to your system as you should so then you can use this mode to login and find the root cause of the problem.
Let me take an example, that if you have got a virus in your system which initiated BOD (Blues Screen of Death) on your system while loading the normal version of Window, then you can find the root cause of this problem using Safe Mode. If you want to get into Safe Mode, then after switching on your system you will have to press F8 and then you will see a list of options, among which 'Safe Mode' will be present. But there are certain viruses which will corrupt the Safe Mode of your system, so that you should be not able to deal with them in Safe Mode. So, today we are here a solution named SMFixer, which can take care of this problem by fixing up the Safe Mode version for you.
You can see the screenshot of the tool, wherein you will find that there are three buttons on the application window. First One named 'Fix' is with the main functionality, on pressing this button your system will start preparing to go to restart mode and then once it gets started again you can press F8 to login the system with Safe Mode, I am sure that it will work as it per the expectations. The other button will tell you about the tool as it has been named as 'About' and the third one will exit the Application.
The tool is very simple to use (it can be observed from its UI), just make sure that you save all the files and all your data before launching the fixing procedure of this tool. It has been checked on Windows 7 32-bit Ultimate, so if face any problem while using this tool then please let us know.
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