The Blaisdell Blog

There is a weight here, almost too great to bear, but I seek a Chautauqua island in the midst of an emotional maelstrom.   Here in Texas , recent events have made me needful of the conversation of good women.               I can accept Roe v Wade, but I think it stinks.   I think an abortion represents layers of failure.   Every woman who needs an abortion has been forced, coerced or felt compelled to have unprotected sex.   That is a failure. Sex seems to be society’s coin of the realm so we spend it.   We go in debt to it.   Girls still want to be popular and boys still want to count coup.   Was this the message of equality the feminist movement wanted?             There is a need for the legalization of abortion.   Children should not have to have children.   Rape victims should not have to have children.   The mantra of those in favor of abortions about them being, “safe, legal and rare” does come to mind.   But there are so many other issues here that go beyond that orig

A little less than two years ago my husband had both knees replaced.   Within a year he was back to hiking, biking, playing tennis and enjoying the life he deserves, but that is not to say that the four months of pre-hab, rehab, and surgery weren’t rigorous.   In fact they were demanding and stressful.   The summer of the surgery we were living in a 40 foot motorhome.   That meant close quarters during a time of limited mobility.   About the time Tom started telling me the best way to unpack the groceries I decided I needed a vehicle in which to vent!   The butlerblaisdellblog was born that very day.               This week I topped 10,000 views of my blog.   This is something of a milestone so I started mining a little data.   My most viewed blog is a surprise.   As a rule, I have received more roses than rotten tomatoes, which is actually pretty good.   People who are angry always have the greatest impetus to write—St. George wasn’t pro damsel, he was anti dragon!   I have writt

In 1910 a census was taken.   It was, perhaps, the most important census ever conducted by the United States of America .   It was this census which provided the core quotas used to allot the number of immigrants this country would admit, according to the Emergency Quota Act of 1921.   Originally, the act provided that all countries present in that census could see their numbers swell by 3% immigration. The need for the law was prompted by wage suppression brought on by the influx of immigrants.   There have been five major changes, reactions and adjustments since then.      We are a nation of immigrants.   This country is a better place because of the talent and drive of our immigrants.   I am the granddaughter of three of them.   I deeply resent activists trying to recast the current debate about illegal aliens as a question of being pro- or anti-immigrant.   Do not try to adulterate this discussion by saying it is about immigrants.   That is insulting to my intelligence and eve

My teeth are itching.   There must be a union activist in the room.   Yup, there she is, President of the Chicago Teachers Union, Karen Lewis.    Ms. Lewis recently tried to excuse the miserable performance of the Chicago public schools by blaming the whole thing on rich, white people.   Lewis is quoted as saying, “…When will there be an honest conversation about the poverty, racism and inequality that hinders the delivery of a quality education product in our school system.”   [Actually, it should be, “ educational product” Karen, but we will worry about your grammatical inadequacies later.]   She then continues, “When will we address the fact that rich, white people, think they know what’s in the best interest of children of African Americans and Latinos—no matter what the parent’s income or education level.”   This, of course, implies that there is one form of education for the rich and another for the poor.   [Trust me, algebra doesn’t care who is doing it.]   It also igno

Here is the unvarnished truth.   On my best day I was never more than plain.   I don’t mind saying that because I was also, through nothing more than a genetic roll of the dice, given a good mind, good parents, and birth in the best country on earth at an advantageous time in its history.   It is also true that sex appeal exists mostly from the neck up.   If you are comfortable inside your own skin and like the person you are it shows.   People respond to what you feel more than what they see.   I like who I am, and in my mind I’m Marilyn Monroe.   So it is always jarring when I see a picture of myself and the person looking back at me is more like Angela Lansbury!   [Not that she wasn’t a saucy little number in her day!]               Even at 66 years old there are times when I like to strut a little.   I put on a cocktail dress, four inch heels and feel just plain foxy.   Of course, any heads I turn are much older and grayer than they used to be, but I’m okay with that—I’ve alwa

I am one of the lucky people who had a great father.   He was a loving, good natured man who never met a stranger.   When I was growing up, Mom was the law and Dad was the gospel.   He could always be counted on to make a joke of our foibles and give us a pass on minor infractions.   Mom, on the other hand, was sure that cutting us a break while young meant moral weakness later on.   They were a good team, which, I am sure, is how nature meant it.   Parenting is a young person’s sport and a two person job when ever possible.   Yes, I know there are plenty of great single parent homes out there but it surely can’t be easy.               Fathers are frequently the least appreciated and acknowledged part of the parental team.   [Part of the feminist movement seems to be not so much elevating women as denigrating men.]   Studies have shown us that if you want to raise strong, independent daughters with a positive sense of self-worth, the presence of a loving, involved father is abso

On June 11 th , in 1509 King Henry VIII of England married Catherine of Aragon.   This was his first marriage but Catherine’s second, as she had first been married to Henry’s older brother Arthur.   Catherine (daughter of King Ferdinand and the redoubtable Isabella of Spain) had been betrothed to Arthur at age 3 and married at age 16.   Unfortunately, Arthur was 15, sickly and—according to Catherine—unable to consummate the marriage.   He died shortly thereafter.   This put Arthur’s brother, Henry, in line for the throne.    Henry was six years younger than Catherine, but, in the politics of the 16 th century that made both of them prime brokers in the high stakes game of, “alliance by marriage.”   So Catherine was told to stay in England until Henry was of age.             Catherine married Henry because (1) her parents told her to and she trusted them; (2) the English king told her it would be a good match for her and she trusted him; (3) his son, Henry VIII, told her he lo

I love my country, but that doesn’t mean it is without fault.   One of the most shameful times in this nation’s history is when we chose to inter Japanese-Americans in concentration camps at the beginning of World War II.   That action can not be defended.   It can not be excused.   It can only be mourned, regretted and held up as example of the mentality of the mob.               Yet, through every dark sky there shines some point of light.   Bob Fletcher, who died on May 23 at the age of 101, was just such a bright spot.   Mr. Fletcher worked as a California agricultural inspector.   As such, he must have known, first hand, the work ethic, morals and cultural integrity of the Japanese families who worked in the agriculturally rich central valley of California .   When these families were forced to leave their land and move to internment camps three months after the bombing of Pearl Harbor , Mr. Fletcher quit his job so he could manage the fruit farms of three Japanese familie

The Tea Party has given this nation a much needed fiscal intervention, but they are like young vampires.   I can best explain this discord with an analogy of Stephanie Meyers’ excellent books advocating teenage chastity.   Meyers wrote the Twilight series of novels about vegetarian vampires who are under siege from vampires who want traditional vampire values.   Traditional vampires want to kill humans by sucking them dry (which is what Democrats feel about successful business people).    Our vegetarian vampires want to live at peace with everyone while simply being left alone to enjoy whatever vampire-like existence they choose (much like Americans in general).    But complicating things to the max are an army of young vampires.   Young vampires are undisciplined, emotional and ready to kill everything, including each other.   Enter the Tea Party.   New to the game, new to the town, and obeying only one overpowering and all consuming instinct: kill anyone who isn’t one of us.

Frank Lautenberg died today at age 89.   My condolences to his family, I’m sure he was a good man, though he was a down and dirty campaigner.   It is easy to forget and forgive political divisions (he and I were probably about 170◦ apart philosophically) at a time of human and personal sorrow.   In truth I knew little of the man that couldn’t be summed up in the word, “liberal.”   That isn’t ipso facto a bad thing.   I’d rather deal with an honest liberal than a biased conservative.   But I remember Lautenberg most for being the reason I no longer support the National Organization of Women (NOW).   I left them in 1982 when they endorsed Lautenberg over a pillar of the women’s movement, Millicent Fenwick.     Millicent Fenwick was the pipe smoking Congresswoman from New Jersey .   The woman Walter Cronkite called the, “Conscience of Congress.”   She was born wealthy, but that is no guarantee of an easy life.   Her mother died on board the Lusitania .   She worked for Vogue , had

I have yet to figure out why people stay at Bed & Breakfast’s.   I have several friends who love these places.   They gush over the quaint houses, the delicate gardens, the antiques and wonderful hosts with their never ending supply of quiches and herbal teas.   The truth is that a Bed and Breakfast is really just a boarding house.   That’s it.   Ma Bailey is, “letting” out rooms to try to make the bank note.   She has dressed the place up with old furniture, more chintz that my sainted Aunt Esther, and lavender scented soaps, but it is still just a boarding house.             The B & B is a depression era concept made new.   While Ma Bailey would include three square meals of bland, starchy and simple fare–the original, “three hots and a cot”—the modern B & B offers something that is both less and more.   They lend themselves to small portions, high on presentation, low on carbs, and with enough thyme to make Satan sneeze.   For all of this they charge top dollar.