Former Massachusetts Governor Jane Swift brought up the difficulty women face in gaining leadership positions in politics: Their words and capacities are simply not the focus of the general public. She says the real focus goes immediately to Hair, Hemlines and Husbands! She is undoubtedly correct in this statement.
Consider this phenomenon. There are men in major positions of respect and power in our national politics, some of them for many decades, and some have had "bad hair days" for years; others have no hair at all. Is it mentioned in any public way? Not typically. But let a woman get up to speak and see how much her hair gets discussed above the substance of her speech.
Expect Hillary to run and along with this, expect the media and general public focus to often center far more on appearance than on substance. Some candidate running against her will be just another male in the same, drab business suit we all accept by habit. He may even have an ugly comb-over that flies laughably in the breeze and he may have a wife who rarely shows herself at all for whatever reason. But it will be Hillary's hair, clothing and marital partner that will be the continual topics of discussion.
Even many who consider themselves "liberal" in today's world still trudge along in the mud of out-dated traditional attitudes toward gender.
Personally, I look forward to eight years of dramatically (and often) changed hair styles along with varieties of skirts, pants-suits or anything else, and seeing the occasional glimpse of a very public male figure now in the second-fiddle role in the white house. But my focus will be on how she handles the mammoth job of the presidency.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Bungled Executions
Feelings about the death penalty aside, I merely have a question about the odd problems various states are having today in their execution of prisoners.
The constitutional prohibition against cruel and unusual punishments eventually brought us around to the concept of death by lethal injection. And today, because more and more manufacturers of lethal drugs are denying the state penal administrators their drugs of choice, we are seeing botched executions taking place.
What's the mystery here? When I have undergone surgeries lately, the very nice anesthesiologists have successfully (and quite painlessly) put me to sleep for the duration of the cutting into my flesh. The only pain I every experienced was the after-effect, which would never have arrived if I had not awakened. Why is it so terribly difficult for prisons to perform painless executions?
I can immediately think of two different solutions to the problem, if it's death that has been decided has to be the punishment.
1.) Allow that inmate to begin his slip into unconsciousness just as all surgery prep begins. Then wheel him in to an executioner's room - something of a small abattoir made for a single human. Open a vein and allow the blood to drain from the body, removing any possibility of life returning. This would also have the positive effect of having completed the first part of the morticians job.
2.) Even more humane might be to construct the executioner's room as a comfortable sealed space where the prisoner can begin dining on his chosen last meal as the room begins to fill with carbon monoxide. Death could be not only painless but probably rather satisfying. Adding the "guest's" favorite music, piped in with the gas, would be even more thoughtful.
Though I don't see myself committing some crime that would bring me to this end, I can hardly think of a nicer way to go. The real cruel punishment is the long, difficult manner of death so many humans suffer through sickness and deterioration. When I have reached the condition that is very likely to befall me, losing vitality and any quality of life, I would really appreciate it if someone who loves me would take me to that comfortable room, serve me a favorite meal and turn on the carbon monoxide. Of course that would mean that my loved one who at my request had performed such an act of kindness, would then be taken to a horrible place to be put through the torture of some kind of poorly administered execution.
The constitutional prohibition against cruel and unusual punishments eventually brought us around to the concept of death by lethal injection. And today, because more and more manufacturers of lethal drugs are denying the state penal administrators their drugs of choice, we are seeing botched executions taking place.
What's the mystery here? When I have undergone surgeries lately, the very nice anesthesiologists have successfully (and quite painlessly) put me to sleep for the duration of the cutting into my flesh. The only pain I every experienced was the after-effect, which would never have arrived if I had not awakened. Why is it so terribly difficult for prisons to perform painless executions?
I can immediately think of two different solutions to the problem, if it's death that has been decided has to be the punishment.
1.) Allow that inmate to begin his slip into unconsciousness just as all surgery prep begins. Then wheel him in to an executioner's room - something of a small abattoir made for a single human. Open a vein and allow the blood to drain from the body, removing any possibility of life returning. This would also have the positive effect of having completed the first part of the morticians job.
2.) Even more humane might be to construct the executioner's room as a comfortable sealed space where the prisoner can begin dining on his chosen last meal as the room begins to fill with carbon monoxide. Death could be not only painless but probably rather satisfying. Adding the "guest's" favorite music, piped in with the gas, would be even more thoughtful.
Though I don't see myself committing some crime that would bring me to this end, I can hardly think of a nicer way to go. The real cruel punishment is the long, difficult manner of death so many humans suffer through sickness and deterioration. When I have reached the condition that is very likely to befall me, losing vitality and any quality of life, I would really appreciate it if someone who loves me would take me to that comfortable room, serve me a favorite meal and turn on the carbon monoxide. Of course that would mean that my loved one who at my request had performed such an act of kindness, would then be taken to a horrible place to be put through the torture of some kind of poorly administered execution.
Friday, May 9, 2014
A Little Justice
Strictly personal justice, that is.
Tournament organizers accepted my entry fee and stuck me with two other golfers who are often avoided by many in our local men's golf club. Then they put with us (in our fivesome as the number of entrants required) two fellows from the neighboring club who are not well known, one of them much older who questioned whether he could go the whole day. It was a "2-Club Tournament" which we do every year, socializing with the men's club of the senior community nearest to ours, each of us having our own 9-hole executive golf course. This annual tourney is very enjoyable for many of us simply because we get to play an actual 18 different holes instead of our weekly method of creating a "back-9" by hitting from slightly different tee locations.
This is an event I look forward to each year, spending more money on the entry than is comfortable for me but feeling it is worth the cost. Having missed this tournament last year, I was very excited to jump back in. Then the teams were posted and the starting holes assigned. It was a bitter pill for me, having just returned to the game after my year lost to cancer and three surgeries, to be dropped into the "nondescript" group - fellows who get to play because they pay the fee and can't be denied a place but who are not thought of as viable contenders in the "money round."
I ruminated a bit over it for a couple of days, thinking it was unkind of someone in the organizational structure to place me in such a group and using my fairly low handicap to make me the representative "A" player of a group of not-very-capable golfers. Particularly stinging to me was the fact that my game suffered quite a lot with a year off and my recent scores are not yet reflecting anything close to the prowess my formerly-established handicap would indicate. (My handicap will climb slowly through months of high scores until my strength and adjusted swing methods bring me back to a deserved position in the "A" flight.)
Therefore, my attitude need adjusting for a day or so and I got it under control by yesterday morning as I met the two men from the visiting group and greeted the two fellows I know pretty well from my own club - all of us standing on the tee box of the toughest starting position on the whole two-course tournament structure.
My misfit team with "no respect" started the scramble format by snatching a par on that first long par-3 (it feels like a birdie whenever one pars that hole). Then on the next hole, stepping to the ball position the struggling older man had hit fairly near the green, I popped a wedge shot into the hole. Actual birdie! One-under after two holes with the toughest hole of the entire 18 coming next. The weakest team member (a huge fellow who began trying to golf after retiring here about three years ago and whose decent shots are still quite rare) smacked his ball to a spot where we could all feel comfortable hitting a second shot (each team was required to use two tee-shots by each player during the round), so we chose that drive and all hit to the green. One of the team put it within five feet on the undulating green and a good putter (that older fellow whose drive we had used on the previous hole), stepped up first and dropped one of the most difficult short putts on our course. One-under after three holes - the three that comprised the most difficult short stretch in the tournament.
Next hole - birdie! And the next! From there on, we were real believers in our ability to make this our tournament. At the lunch afterward, the scores were announced and money prizes handed out. First place - my little team of misfits, at a score of 9-under par; second place - a team of respected players who scored well at 6-under; third place - a tie between two groups of more of the most respected players with the lowest handicaps and some of them all teamed up specially by the organizers to be the likely winners.
I'm sure most of them will look at all this as a fluke, a single day of water running uphill and pigs flying backward, but I think a few will show a little more respect to some of us who didn't stand a chance! Teamwork really worked and attitude played a big part. We went out to have fun, and winning it all was also good fun.
Tournament organizers accepted my entry fee and stuck me with two other golfers who are often avoided by many in our local men's golf club. Then they put with us (in our fivesome as the number of entrants required) two fellows from the neighboring club who are not well known, one of them much older who questioned whether he could go the whole day. It was a "2-Club Tournament" which we do every year, socializing with the men's club of the senior community nearest to ours, each of us having our own 9-hole executive golf course. This annual tourney is very enjoyable for many of us simply because we get to play an actual 18 different holes instead of our weekly method of creating a "back-9" by hitting from slightly different tee locations.
This is an event I look forward to each year, spending more money on the entry than is comfortable for me but feeling it is worth the cost. Having missed this tournament last year, I was very excited to jump back in. Then the teams were posted and the starting holes assigned. It was a bitter pill for me, having just returned to the game after my year lost to cancer and three surgeries, to be dropped into the "nondescript" group - fellows who get to play because they pay the fee and can't be denied a place but who are not thought of as viable contenders in the "money round."
I ruminated a bit over it for a couple of days, thinking it was unkind of someone in the organizational structure to place me in such a group and using my fairly low handicap to make me the representative "A" player of a group of not-very-capable golfers. Particularly stinging to me was the fact that my game suffered quite a lot with a year off and my recent scores are not yet reflecting anything close to the prowess my formerly-established handicap would indicate. (My handicap will climb slowly through months of high scores until my strength and adjusted swing methods bring me back to a deserved position in the "A" flight.)
Therefore, my attitude need adjusting for a day or so and I got it under control by yesterday morning as I met the two men from the visiting group and greeted the two fellows I know pretty well from my own club - all of us standing on the tee box of the toughest starting position on the whole two-course tournament structure.
My misfit team with "no respect" started the scramble format by snatching a par on that first long par-3 (it feels like a birdie whenever one pars that hole). Then on the next hole, stepping to the ball position the struggling older man had hit fairly near the green, I popped a wedge shot into the hole. Actual birdie! One-under after two holes with the toughest hole of the entire 18 coming next. The weakest team member (a huge fellow who began trying to golf after retiring here about three years ago and whose decent shots are still quite rare) smacked his ball to a spot where we could all feel comfortable hitting a second shot (each team was required to use two tee-shots by each player during the round), so we chose that drive and all hit to the green. One of the team put it within five feet on the undulating green and a good putter (that older fellow whose drive we had used on the previous hole), stepped up first and dropped one of the most difficult short putts on our course. One-under after three holes - the three that comprised the most difficult short stretch in the tournament.
Next hole - birdie! And the next! From there on, we were real believers in our ability to make this our tournament. At the lunch afterward, the scores were announced and money prizes handed out. First place - my little team of misfits, at a score of 9-under par; second place - a team of respected players who scored well at 6-under; third place - a tie between two groups of more of the most respected players with the lowest handicaps and some of them all teamed up specially by the organizers to be the likely winners.
I'm sure most of them will look at all this as a fluke, a single day of water running uphill and pigs flying backward, but I think a few will show a little more respect to some of us who didn't stand a chance! Teamwork really worked and attitude played a big part. We went out to have fun, and winning it all was also good fun.
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