1934

William + Catherine.

,
originally uploaded by callieo!.

I like this picture of me and Will, taken this fall while having dinner with Laura and Ghassan.

White trash?

So, we were at dinner with some friends recently, and Will and I were both a little shocked when one of the people at the table stated that on a recent visit to Wal-Mart, "everybody there was white trash." (I wondered if he included himself in that assessment? and how could anyone – let alone someone educated and politically astute – shop there in good conscious in the first place??) Normally, the use of this term has never bothered me that much, but in the context of our conversation, it really struck a nerve. I've used the term lots of times myself, but after this incident, I question the ethics of using a derogatory term like this in reference to people whose only crime in life is to be poor and disadvantaged (as I most definitely was as a child and into adulthood).

I did a little research and found an interesting summary of the history of the term and how people classified as "white trash" have historically been unfairly stereotyped and used as convenient scapegoats for the middle- and upper-classes. Below are excerpts from the source that I found particularly compelling:

The hatred and condescension of the poor seems to be the last available method of prejudice in our society. Just as Americans have made an effort to educate, understand and alter the treatment of marginalized groups and alternate cultures within our society, we have held on to poor whites as a group to demean. Making assumptions about groups of any sort on societal and biased definitions is flawed in any situation. As with other groups, there must be an effort taken to use an open mind and individual code to ascribe merit to those in our world.

and:

One option is to take the worst historical attributes of whites and placing them on those whites who are most powerless and isolated in society. Then you can blame and hate them for their crimes against humanity and your own. Upper class whites can join with blacks and other minorities, thereby alleviating their guilt, taking attention off themselves and bonding with minorities against poor whites. Uppers are still pitting the two groups against each other; they have merely switched sides. For proof, just take a look at recent voting patterns. The liberal, well educated white votes alongside minorities against politically conservative working class whites.

Think of the difference between the treatment of a black executive or politician who does not support gangsta rappers singing about rape and murder -- he is considered a sellout to his race. But if a white doctor is embarrassed by a television interview after a bout of domestic violence at the local trailer park, the world joins in throwing stones at the ignorant rednecks. Treason to whiteness has become a battle cry of devotion to humankind.

and finally:

But the truth is, working class whites have no choice but to work, and to work in thankless, physically demanding jobs which society's habits necessitate, but no one wants to perform. These jobs are looked down upon because they require little education and they place one in the lower level of social hierarchy. The job complaints of these men do not center around board meetings, not making junior partner, who got the nicest company car, or even paying off college loans. Their problems are on the job injuries and deaths, explosions, shift work year after year, no opportunity to ever receive a promotion, protecting their seniority, and providing health care for their families....not to mention paying the bills.

This class should theoretically be distinguishable for economic reasons. But our capitalist society teaches that we all get what we deserve -- the rich and the poor. This is further complicated if one is white. The cultural baggage of white skin includes the myths of power, education, wealth and opportunity.

At any rate, I find elitist disdain for the poor and under-privileged far more repulsive than the term "white trash" and all that it implies.

War News Radio.

Discovered this cool news source via an article in the New Yorker.

Speech disfluencies and discourse particles.

So, one of my most heartfelt pet peeves is the use of the word "like" as a filler. As a graduate student who's often around a lot of people in their early twenties, I can't tell you how much this bugs me and how inarticulate and unintellectual the overuse of this filler makes users of it sound. But what's really bad is when you meet someone highly educated and in their mid-thirties who uses the word "like", on average, about three times per sentence. I know someone like this. Listening to said person talk drives me INSANE!!! No matter how interesting the topic we're on, or what bright things she may have to say between "likes", I'm so focused on when she's going to say it again and wondering whether or not I should do her a favor and point out how distracting it is that she says it so much, that what she says in between is totally irrelevant, no matter how potentially thought-provoking.

It's one thing when you're in your teens and early twenties, but for people in their thirties who possess a graduate education??? No way. It's inexcusable.

Venturi + Brown.

This looks interesting. I'm always fascinated with husband/wife teams.

Christmas Spinning.

Dear Friends and Family,

As the gentle (and predictable), pre-Christmas drizzle falls on Seattle, it is time once again for us to look back on the past year and ask the question, “What in the world just happened???” (Please note that as it is the fashion of the current administration to “spin” events excessively, we will follow their lead.)

The big news items include Michaela’s move to Eagle River, Alaska in October. She is now 16 and a sophomore at Eagle River High School; her new hobbies include scaling Mt. McKinley and hunting polar bears. Apparently, it is not quite as exciting as Seattle, but she is glad to be able to spend some time with her father. We attempted to ask Jeff if sharing a house with a very independent-minded adolescent girl was sometimes a challenge, but he could not be reached for comment.

Seth, 18, is working hard, simultaneously earning high school and college credit at a local community college and working part-time for Peet’s Coffee & Tea. In his English class, he had an assignment to give a five-minute presentation on the war in Iraq. Apparently, Seth was so knowledgeable about the subject (and from more than one perspective) that he and his team were allowed to talk to the class for nearly an hour. And in fact, yesterday the White House called and wants him to take over the rebuilding of the country’s infrastructure. Seth, however, declined the offer as it would interfere with his electric guitar practice.

Callie, the MFA candidate, had a very challenging but successful quarter at the University of Washington. One of her many projects included a five-minute, experimental film, with Will assisting with some of the camera work. The finished product, distilled from over an hour’s worth of footage, was a very impressive first effort. Will indicated that if Callie wants to be a film maker, that’s fine with him…as long as there are no opening weekends grossing less than $30 million.

Will still enjoys gainful employment with AVST, Inc. in Bellevue, a mere hour-and-ten-minute commute from the homestead. Somehow, he found time to paint the house this summer. Gone are the pale yellow hues that first signaled to him that the little house was a diamond in the rough. Thanks to Callie’s keen sense of color, the house now sports a robin's egg blue coat with a nice, cream-colored trim.

Other recent highlights include Thanksgiving visits from three out of four McCeney’s (hey, three out of four ain’t bad) and Tish, who dog-sledded in from Cle Elum. And next door, our nice neighbors, Conner and Mo, are building their dream house. Unfortunately, it is so large that their friends now think our house must be Mo and Conner’s garage. But overall, Seattle continues to be a very stimulating place to live, with a highly outspoken, well-read, and scandalously liberal populace that ranks right near the top of the nation in dog ownership.

And speaking of dogs, how could we not mention the news regarding Oslo and Mies, the Weimaraners extraordinaire? Earlier this year, Oslo took a “Best of Breed” award at a local dog show; we were so proud. But we have told him not to brag to his friends about it. (That would just be sooo unseemly.) And Mies, who you may recall was rescued by us from an unloving home last February, has become a very sweet and loving dog. He is not as classically handsome, perhaps, as his nephew, Oslo, but people comment on his good looks just the same. He is a fierce watch dog and lets no random sounds in the house or on the property go unnoticed. He earns his keep (not counting Callie’s $80 Pumas we just found beyond repair and baring his signature teeth marks).

Like other educated, middle-class families who enjoy penning long, holiday patters, this one wouldn't be complete without a brief mention of our family travels. This year, we took several trips to the local Costco to replenish our supplies of organic milk, dog food and macaroni & cheese, and on at least two occasions, we all hopped merrily into the car, traveling north on Seattle's infamous Highway 99 to fetch a couple dozen Krispy Kremes.

We could go on about lots of other esoteric details of our lives, but we need to save some of this for next year. So, until then, take your pick and have a politically correct:

a.) joyous and peaceful holiday
b.) Merry Christmas
c.) Happy Hanukkah
d.) Happy Kwanzaa
e.) none of the above, just wish Bill O'Reilly a hearty "Bah, humbug!" or, better yet, "Happy Holidays!" for me.

Hailing cheerily from the ever damp and soggy Pacific Northwest,
Will, Callie, Seth, Michaela, Oslo, Mies, and Stieglitz (the cat).

Syriana.

So, we took Seth with us to see Syriana last night. The movie started out on an interesting note, but got increasingly muddled over time. Seth and I thought it was far too drawn out without making the point that you could easily guess was coming. We left the theater before the ending, mainly because we were already at the two hour mark and the movie wasn't really going anywhere, or, maybe just taking waaaaaaaaay too long to get where it was going. There was no real protagonist (or maybe one too many), and the plot was too convoluted. I came home feeling bad for leaving early, especially since it was a movie about the middle east. So, I looked up what other people had to say about it, wondering if it was just me. Well, it's a New York Times critic's pick, but the New Yorker did a pretty good of summing up how I felt about the movie.

It was directed by Stephan Gaghan, the same guy who did Traffic. I really liked that movie, and while complex, with multiple threads running simultaneously through that film, too, it was much more cohesive and coherent.

What I did really like about this movie were the intriguing, but-disappointedly-far-too-undeveloped-glimpses into the development of a suicide bomber. I wish he would have focused more on that. As it was, Syriana lacked any real focal point at all. IMO, of course. But Will liked it. He would have stayed, but he was tired (we went to the late, late show) and I was having a hard time staying awake for the whole thing. Not unusual for me, as those of you who know me well can attest. :)

Sweet Oslo.

,
originally uploaded by callieo!.

This is Oslo, my beloved Weimaraner. I'm crazy about both my dogs, but Oslo is my first love. And he's not as mischievious as Mies, which works in his favor, too. :) Although how we'd live without Mies's quirky earnestness, I don't know. They're both wonderful, wonderful dogs....

Oslo + Mies.

,
originally uploaded by callieo!.

I love this photo of Mies (in the foreground) and Oslo. Our two beautiful Weimaraners.

Form.

,
originally uploaded by callieo!.

This is a photograph taken during 10 weeks of form studies. My object was a bag of white plastic tile spacers. This image was created by taking two of the spacers, melting the ends together, then pulling them apart, creating strings of plastic. I then draped the strings over a red onion, shooting the photo with my Digital Rebel. I think this was the weekend I rented the macro lens, too. Gotta get one of those!