Winston-Salem, Family, and Boy

We went up to Winston-Salem again this weekend. Have I mentioned what an attractive and interesting place it is?

Anyhow, I took Mark to the airport this morning so he could return for another two weeks in the City of Doom. I miss him already. The past two weeks went by way too fast, with lots of food, more travel than usual, etc. Now it’s cold, I have no one but Edgar (who generates very little body heat) to keep me warm, and I need to get back to the neglected job quest.

I love my boy. And my mom and dad. Especially after the past ten days or so.

Triangle Weekend

The above was, of course, a photo opportunity which couldn’t be missed.

We spent the past weekend in Durham, with a quick side trip to Raleigh. Mark excelled at keeping my mind off something that was bothering me by feeding me regularly and driving me around in the snow all day on Saturday. We ate at Honey’s and Grayson’s and The Angus Barn and Le Coco and Spanky’s. The Angus Barn was particularly fun, because I’ve been driving by the place on the way to the state fair since I was a kid, and I’d never once been inside.

On Sunday, we got to see Becky, who I hadn’t seen in over a year, and who showed us more of Chapel Hill than I’d probably ever seen before. Then we headed home, loaded down with newspapers I’m still reading. Aside from our accommodations at the worst Red Roof Inn in the country, it was a very good weekend.

 

Cold and Damp

No, it never snowed, but it was incredibly cold and gray and rainy out yesterday, so I did the only sensible thing one can do on such a perfect afternoon. I went for a walk downtown. Afterward, I went to the grocery store and then to the airport, where I picked up something to warm me up a bit.

FTD and Me

Great. Channel 9 does a big exposé on how badly FTD screws up flower delivery orders placed online the very day after I place an order with them. My timing, as always, is impeccable.

So apparently we were spared the snow, yet again. Has The Great Pumpkin got something against me? Why are we having such a freakishly warm winter my first year back east? I’d particularly appreciate some snow this year, when I don’t have to commute to work. Oh well.

Cartoons

It may be the first known case of a sportscaster being traded for a cartoon character. Then again, there’s not really much difference between the two species anyway, is there?

And speaking of cartoon characters (by “cartoon character”, I’m referring to the author of this piece, and not to Curious George):

Not only does the story reveals the sinister side of a corrupt wildlife trade with perilous roots in Western imperialism, but recent ethical, legal and scientific considerations on the personhood of primates makes a traditional reading of Curious George both impossible and irresponsible.

She’s joking, right? Does anyone really write a sentence using phrases like “scientfic considerations on the personhood of primates” and not expect people to start howling with laughter?

Did I mention how happy I am that I get my husband back tomorrow? I was going to show a picture of my big grin, but my religion doesn’t allow visual representations of myself. At least not when they’re unflattering…

That Word

Somehow, I missed the news about Al Sharpton’s issue with certain language in the TV version of The Boondocks until I read about it in the comic strip version this week. Today’s journal entry, though, is not so much about that controversy as it is about the trend for news outlets to use the cutesy term “the n-word” instead of the real word in question, which is “nigger”.

There. I typed it. Do you find the word rather repulsive? Yeah, so do I. That’s the point, after all. It’s hard to demostrate how offensive a word can be without using the actual word. When newspapers use stupid euphemisms like “the n-word”, the word is stripped of its outrageousness, and it sounds like nothing more severe occurred than little Betsy Wetsy saying “I have to tinkle.” In fact, it makes the whole thing sound sort of cute and endearing, like a fight between Bobby and Cindy Brady.

Surely no one could really object to the use of the word “nigger” in the context of a discussion about the use of that very word, could they?

I remember once, many years ago, that my grandmother was talking about a man she knew. She whispered the word “homosexual” but defined it out loud it as “you know, in love with another man.” In her universe, the word was apparently more upsetting and delicate than the idea behind it. It’s apparently the same for most newspapers.

If someone is using words like “nigger” or “spic” or “faggot”, I want to know about it. They’re not using cute little sanitized family-friendly words and I don’t want to read some wimpy newspaper’s cute little sanitized family-friendly minimization that masks the impact of what was really said.

What I Like About the South

That’s what I like about the south:

  • Standing in line at the cafeteria behind the elderly Chinese couple who are having chicken pie, black-eyed peas, and turnip greens.
  • Talking to the very proper, almost geeky librarian who tries to supress her southern accent, but — if given the opportunity — wouldn’t get rid of it entirely for anything in the world.
  • Knowing that any small town big enough to have a Wal-Mart Supercenter probably also still has a daily newspaper.