A Few of My Favorite Things

Happy New Year. Enjoy!






















Happy New Year!

A New Year and a New Decade

My love tells me there's a blue moon on New Year's Eve. How appropriate.
This is a big time; a new decade, the decade in which I'll turn sixty (not to assume anything, but...), a decade in which both of my children will reach their thirties.
Incredible.



We had a picture perfect day just a few days before the screaming cold came roaring in. I took a walk and tried to capture this place. There was the golden angel atop the gift shop, the clouds skating across the mountains, a lovely mix of religions and season.








I do love this town, silly old hippie haven and overpriced city chic spot though it is. Around every corner there's something just incredibly lovely...




or tremendously silly.



I got to spend the holidays with my favorite people...KB (who would far prefer I never, ever put his picture here) and my kids (who may think this picture is okay as it's dark and silly) - it wasn't exactly like the Cratchett's, but it was us and we were together.




So ends 2009...so ends the 2000s. I'm not usually one for resolutions, but I think this may be the year for it.

I am going to appreciate what I have. I spend far too much time worrying about what I might lose or what I can't have. But I have everything. And no matter if I live in this house, if I live somewhere else, if my life changes utterly or stays just as it is, it will be enough.

I will remember what matters. It's way too easy to get bogged down, especially when there is a world of things to worry about and you've got a genetic tendency to worry. But I do know what matters. People matter. Relationships matter. Feeling good about myself and my life matters.

I will take better care of myself. I'm currently cutting out sugar completely - not forever, but long enough to remind myself how much better I feel when I eat well. I'll continue to exercise, thought it's a struggle when the wind is howling and I just don't feel like it. I will remember that what I need matters, too.

I will trust the universe. I work way too hard trying to make everything alright for everybody. I'm going to stop trying to rule the world - even a benevolent dictator is, after all, a dictator.

I'm going to try to relax and let my own world run itself a bit more. I doubt I'll be able to ignore the problems I see all around me, I doubt I'll stop preaching from my progressive soapbox, but I'm going to remember that everyone, no matter who, is always more likely to do well when you trust in their basic humanity.

Dear President Obama: My New Year's Wish

This is not a fan letter. Neither is it hate mail. It's a wish, a hope, a dream for the next three years of the Obama Administration.

It's no easy job you took on. It's complicated by an uneasy legacy from the past administration, one which has weakened our international reputation, increased the mistrust Americans have of our politicians.

You campaigned on change. It was the centerpiece of your platform. Simply by being who you are, being a very different style of president, you've delivered.
But not the way many of us who supported you hoped for.

You promised to bring our soldiers home. Instead, you're moving them to Afghanistan. Is it a strategically logical move? Perhaps, in traditional thinking. But it's no change. Change would have been to put a small, well funded group of covert ops experts to work on the terrorist problem, and divert the rest of the massive funds we spend on computerized warfare to humanitarian aid.

Shore up the education system. Rebuild the countries. Establish reliable food and water systems. Be the good guys. Make it impossible to argue we're not. Win hearts and minds in a real way, not with a few half-hearted efforts to understand the culture. Despite the enormity of the job, I'm betting it would still cost a fraction of what we're spending on our wars and it would be a godsend for our own country; allowing the thousands of our own soldiers whose lives we're maiming to instead believe in the possibility of their own futures again.

Your first months in office have been a big disappointment to me and many others who hoped for real health care reform.

You're accomplishing something - yes. Is it better than nothing? I have my doubts.
It discriminates against women, against gays. It doesn't offer health care to all. It gives the bloated health insurance industry what IT wants. It doesn't give us what WE wanted.

Sadly, it appears this half-assed health care is what you envisioned all along. That isn't what you told us. We didn't make up the promise of the National Health Insurance Exchange. You told us you intended to create it.

You promised you'd open the doors to prescription drugs from other countries, lowering the cost of medication for millions. That door is shut tight.

The winners here are the establishment - the insurance industry, the pharmceutical companies. The American people lose again. Because we allow ourselves to be ignored.

You took office in a financial crisis. You bailed out your administration's cronies on Wall Street, bailed out the firms that created the crisis, bailed out the auto industry. A bailout for Americans losing their homes? Lip service.
Loan servicers make more money if they pursue foreclosure. So they say they're participating in HAMP, but in truth they far prefer to foreclose.

I've been in the midst of that process, taking that proactive position we were all told to pursue. Staying current on my payments, watching my savings disappear, filing form after form, mailing file after file to IndyMac bank in hopes of getting a loan modification. It's been well over a year. They're still asking for more paperwork, pretending they don't have forms they've had on file for months.

Meanwhile, they got bailed out by the feds and bought out by OneWest. Fannie Mae, which owns my mortgage, is a bottomless pit of fiscal mismanagement which has a limitless budget of bailouts from the taxpayers. That would be me.

I've given up. There will be no cushion for me and for millions of others who are selling their homes, short selling, losing them.

Where is comprehensive financial reform? Where is the oversight?

I live in New York. My state is slashing funding, delaying payments to localities, and they're forced to try to make up the difference. Who will pay for this? I will. My neighbors will. We are the source of all the funding that government demands. Don't you see it? And yet jobs are disappearing, salaries have been flat for years while costs have risen so quickly that our dreams of a home of our own, a car that has fewer than 150 thousand miles on it, our hope of retirement are gone.

My children must borrow money to go to college. I cannot afford to pay their tuition. They will graduate with massive debts, which I will only be able to pay for them by winning the lottery.

We spend billions on a war that we cannot win. We will spend billions to bail out businesses that have cheated their way into near-bankruptcy. We will spend billions on a health care plan that won't cover everyone. And the next generation is lining up at community colleges, hoping to get a seat at the only affordable higher education opportunity there is, knowing that a four year degree means borrowing tens of thousands of dollars.


Don't you see how backwards this is?

Is America truly leading the way in developing sustainable energy? Is it developing a sustainable, growing economy? Are we moving forward or backwards?

There is a deep well of righteous indignation all over this country but you don't see it. You may find it swallows you whole in the next election.


Mr. Obama, I haven't given up on you. I think you're a decent man. I think you really want to create a legacy of positive change. You need to reconsider your course.

Your advisors are Washington insiders; the very people who've created the corrupt, old-boy network that's given us every abuse of power for the past twenty years or more. Their loyalty is to America's corporations. They're the wrong people at the helm.

You don't need them. You need to surround yourselves with great minds, open minds, people with ideals who refuse to accept the cynical "business as usual" and "it can't be done" mentality that sucks Washington DC down like quicksand.

You had us. You had our support. You are squandering that incredible privilege and for what - influence? Influence comes from grassroots support. Mobilize the American people and no amount of lobbying can compete. A second term? Look at your poll numbers. No amount of campaign funding is going to get you into office a second time if we don't believe in you.

The Republicans are unifying. They all see a clear threat to their philosophy of government and they will whip their voters into a solid voting bloc. Your base is disintegrating with each disappointment, each wrong turn.

Yours is a young presidency. There is time to change, time to set a new course.

We want to support you. We want to help. And we desperately need your help. We need an advocate in the Oval Office, not an adversary.

You work for us, Mr. President. And I know you know that. That should be the bottom line of every decision you make. Every single one. "Does this make a real, positive difference for the American people?" And coupled with this question should be a second one: "Is there a better way?"

I wish you the very best for the coming year. And I'm hoping you do the same for us.

Very sincerely,

Susan Barnett

Happy Holidays.

I've got my holiday decoration on my virtual door, the purple lights are strung on the wall and it feels like Christmas, pretty much. I got Christmas cards out this year (not nearly so many as prior years, but more than the years I sent none at all), I've written my holiday thank you's to the people who've contributed to my radio show over the past year. My shopping is done, my kids are on their way and my guy was up all night trying to finish his ambitious gift plans.

If you asked me most days, I'd say it's been a pretty rough year. For everybody.

But as I wrote those thank you notes, as I sit in my home office and prepare to start another day at a job that, for the most part, I enjoy and that seems secure, I realize it's been a decent year.

We're still here. We're okay. I got a book agent, I'm writing a book (though when it feels like I'm pulling out my insides and giving them a careful examination, it doesn't seem like such a fun project), I've got a new circle of friends and a man whose company I enjoy more than anyone else's. My kids are well and seem to have found their directions. This blog is read by people all over the world; people I may never meet but who know what I think and, perhaps, sometimes, agree.

There's been illness, there are money worries, there are my usual litanies of angst and neuroses. If I look at the world picture, I worry. But if I look at just my little corner of it, I have to admit it's alright. All in all, life's okay. And that gives me hope and energy to try to make it okay for everybody.

I hope you can say that and more and I wish you even better for the coming year.

Women's Rights in America

Two items of interest to me today as host and producer of a women's issues program.

One, the Senate health care reform proposal. Its language calls for women to make a separate payment, write a separate check for full reproductive services health coverage to the private insurer which would be offering insurance under the program.
The idea is to make certain that no public funds are used to finance abortions.

This ignores the Hyde Amendment,passed in 1976, which guarantees that very thing. It's not beloved of pro-choice lobbyists, but it exists. So this extra contortion reaffirms a prohibition that is already law. And what it effectively accomplishes is discrimination. A man will pay for his insurance, period. A woman will pay on a two-tiered scale, depending on her age and what services she might need.

I am not arguing for abortion. I've struggled with this one for years and I believe that except under very exceptional circumstances, that choice should not be abortion. I hate that there are people who treat abortion like a form of contraception. But I'm a woman; I know the difficult situations we all can face. Any choice made must be one that forces a real searching of the soul. But bottom line, I believe in allowing that choice. I do not believe the law should require you to have a child.

So we're creating a mandatory system that will force women to pay extra if they want to preserve that right to choose.

Not to mention the fact that insurance companies will also be permitted to charge far more for covering older people (like me)...one figure I've seen predicts it will be 300% more.

I'm disappointed in our president. I think he has been disingenuous. He's promoted a single payer public option while promising the insurance industry that he doesn't really mean it.

If I were a legislator, I think I'd have to vote down this cutout version of reform. But if I were a legislator, I'd be hounding Joe Lieberman out of any position of clout he even dreams of holding. I'd be holding 24 hour full volume heavy metal vigils on his doorstep.

So just as well I'm not.

Then there's CEDAW. Do you know what it is?

It's the Convention for the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women.
It was part of Eleanor Roosevelt's vision when she helped draft the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

It is an international treaty which has been ratified by 185 countries, countries willing to affirm that they stand against "any distinction, exclusion or restriction made on the basis of sex which has the effect or purpose of impairing or nullifying the recognition, enjoyment or exercise by women, irrespective of their marital status, on a basis of equality of men and women, of human rights and fundamental freedoms in the political, economic, social, cultural, civil or any other field."

Sudan hasn't signed it. Neither has Somalia. Nor has the United States.

Presidents Clinton and Carter signed it, but never managed to get it out of committee and into a vote by the Senate.

So I live in a country where my government cannot agree that all women deserve the same human rights and fundamental freedoms as men.

CEDAW turned thirty years old this month. And we are still waiting for it to come up for a vote in Washington.

It's a significant treaty, if only on moral grounds.

Isn't that high ground the one we like to claim as ours?

You can find out more here.

A Call For Ideas

I'm working on a book. It includes profiles of women doing remarkable, inspiring work aimed at improving one problem, whether it's global or local. What matters is that they have a story that makes you sit down, take a second look and say, "Wow. That's amazing."

My job puts me in contact with fascinating people on a regular basis and I've got a great list of interviews lined up or already done. But I have a nagging feeling that I'm missing someone - that there's someone out there with a story that should be told and I haven't heard of them.

I'm deliberately steering clear of celebrities and well known politicians. A few of the women I've spoken to have written books of their own. Many are well known to people in their cause, but not outside of it. Obscure is fine. But that makes them harder to find.

Here's where you come in: do you know of such a woman? Is there someone near where you live, or is there someone well known in your part of the world but perhaps not so well known in mine, who's dedicating her life to work that makes a real positive difference? Is there someone you'd like to know more about?

I'd like to know who she is. I don't want to miss her.

This Is What It's All About

Meet Lena Moultrie. She's an amazing young woman and one whose story must be told.

Lena died last year. She was eleven years old. She went to school, she had friends, she loved her family. She loved to dance, she hoped someday to marry Michael Jackson, she loved the movie "Seven Pounds" with Will Smith. Her life was not stopped by a three year old diagnosis of a cyst on her brain.

When a brain aneurysm left her on life support, alive only because her body was too strong to die, her mother remembered that Will Smith movie.

In it, Smith's character tries to atone for a horrible accident by sacrificing himself to save seven lives. He gives up his possessions, his identity, his future and his organs to give others a chance to live.

Hazelee Moultrie says that resonated with Lena. She thought it was wonderful that he'd sacrificed himself for others.

"She was a wonderful little girl," Hazelee told me. "She was always thinking of others, always reaching out to try to make someone feel better."

So Hazelee knew what Lena would want: she donated her organs to save others.

Lena saved four lives - and her heart was given to another eleven year old girl who is now strong and healthy.

"It's helped me so much," her mother says. "It's helped all of us, particularly knowing there's another girl Lena's age who's having a healthy life because Lena's heart never stopped beating."

Hazelee will be on the Donate Life float at the Tournament of Roses parade on New Year's Day. She says she knows that Lena will be with her, helping her get through it.

A hundred and five thousand people are on the organ transplant waiting list nationwide. Every day, nineteen people on that list will run out of time. The Center for Donation and Transplant says the need for donors is increasing though the number of donors has stayed flat.

Two Lives in the Recession

The new version of the American Dream appears to be just "getting by". Here's a story I did for the holidays profiling two lives - musician/photographer/writer DB Leonard and former social worker Sharon Butler.


Getting By As the New American Dream

News From The Reality That Is Iraq.

This is far more important than anything I might have to say today:



Last Of The Iraqis Blog - The Bomb Aftermath

The People Speak

Maybe I'm a Populist. I don't pay much attention to labels, but I stumbled across a Bill Moyers interview with Howard Zinn last night that made me sit up and cheer.

Zinn, if you don't know, is the author of "The Peoples Guide to the United States", a history of the events behind the history of our country. The transcontinental railroad may have been an incredible milestone in our development, but we're told very little about the thousands of men who built it. Those are the people Zinn wants to know about.

"The People Speak" is a film featuring actors reading some of the most dramatic, inspiring, yet seldom-heard words from great Americans.

These are everyday people who spoke out for social change. Their words are no less stirring today - a time when all of us again are called to stand up, to speak out, to demand reform, to demand that our country discard the rotting trappings of governance by greed and again stand proud and clean, a democracy created for, of and by we, the people.

The United States of America declared its people free, free to enjoy life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. We actually wrote that as part of our societal goal -
the pursuit of happiness. Not the struggle to survive, not the hunt for the almighty dollar, not the chance to have more than your neighbor. The goal was happiness. We lost sight of that.

I demand it. I demand to be allowed to pursue happiness. I demand it for you, too.
I am willing to work for it. You have to work, too. But our government was established for us - not for a few CEOs, not for Wall Street, not for the people with the most money, the most influence. It was not intended to tax us into submission, to conquer the world, to impose our form of government on everyone else. It was not intended to support corrupt and bloated industry.

We have lost our way. What I've seen of these performances convinces me it's not impossible to find our way back. We have to be willing to speak.

Pitchfork Mobs: The New Meme

The more I read, the more convinced I'm absolutely on target with my revelation that we have no middle and lower classes anymore - we have serfs and we have Corporate America. And it's not a thought unique to me - the angry people who are fed up with slaving for our corporate/government masters are known as Pitchfork Mobs. Man, there's a mental picture.

There does seem to be increasing news of violence. There have been questionable stories of Goldman Sachs executives buying pistols to protect themselves (stories that Bloomberg began and seem a little shaky on fact-checking). There are stories of attacks on individuals seen as involved in all this, which you can check out on the fine blog, Naked Capitalism.
It's worth reading not only the post, but the comments.

I'm sorry to hear that frustration and anger may be leading to violence. That's not the way I'd like to see the massive change we need occur. Dr. Martin Luther King proved that a peaceful show of mass dissent can make a difference. Ghandi did it as well. Mass marches are needed. A grassroots movement of angry people willing to call, to email, to visit their legislators over and over and over are required. People willing to speak out, to protest, to run for office - that's what we need.

Violence is an outburst, an expression of rage and frustration - and it poisons the people who do it.

That is not the kind of change we need.

It's All About the Corporations - We Are Serfs

My cousin the conservative likes to debate me on my blog. You'll find his arguments most every time I express a liberal view. But his latest comment made me realize I can explain what I believe is wrong with our system very succinctly: it's about the corporations, not about the voters.

Government and corporate interests are the same. The government's job since the eighties has been to loosen regulation and let giant corporations run free.

And as the corporations are the largest contributors to campaigns, that's likely to continue.

They like this form of capitalism real well. For the rest of us, it's not so good.

They hike credit card interest rates, they do mass layoffs while demanding government incentives not to move and the few at the top make obscene salaries. They fly their private jets to Washington to ask for bailout money.

This recession has taught us nothing, as we haven't made a single meaningful reform to the banking industry and the corporate climate continues to encourage massive conglomerates that are "too big to fail".

My cousin says legislators need to realize they're spending our money.

"Our money?" Our aging career legislators and the business interests who own them consider it all "their money". Our job is to keep them going. Our job is to keep paying for them to make more.

I resent being a serf. But that's what our capitalism has created. And that's what I am.

I work to support a government whose goal is to be business friendly, and I'm told the benefits will trickle down to me. I'm not feeling it. Nor will I. It's a lie.

I am entitled to nothing for my significant tax dollars but the right to live here, pay taxes, and watch my freedoms slowly erode.

I will pay for wars that cannot be won but were begun to get at oil that the corporations wanted. People will die for that.

I will pay to bail out banks that tripped over the fake bundled mortgages they made, and lenders and servicers will go through the motions of modifying loans while waiting for foreclosures that are more to their immediate benefit.

I will watch my governor threaten to cut promised funds to localities, seemingly oblivious to the fact that his "tough guy" stance simply means that the towns bleed when he makes the cut. It all ends up coming out of my pocket.

What do I want? I want a government that represents ME. Not the corporations, not the career politicians, not the party bosses, not the lobbyists.

When cuts are required, I want government to cut its own spending - not pass the pain on to the next level. I want government to cut taxes to attract business instead of hiking taxes, then offering businesses tax breaks.

I want my government to extend Medicare to me and to my children; my children should not be too old for coverage while they're still trying to finish their education. I want my government to create a system which ensures that the elderly have enough to eat without the stigma of poverty. I want my government to care for the people who support it, not the corporations that exploit it and its citizens. I want my children and your children to have access to the education they need to excel in the future. They shouldn't have to carry thousands of dollars of debt before they've even graduated.

I want the serfs to rise up and tear down the castle walls. I want us to throw out the career politicians and make serving as a legislator like jury duty - something we all have to do, even if we don't want to. Do it once and you're done. Wouldn't that be an incentive to get an education and make sure everyone else has one, too? But we're so tired, so demoralized, so stuck, that we can't even see a hope of change.

Welcome to medieval America.

Ah, That Feels Better

Some Good News - a little cooperation in trying to make things better. 56 newspapers in 45 countries carry the same editorial - all calling for leaders in Copenhagen to take definitive action on climate change.

http://newsjunkiepost.com/2009/12/07/copenhagen-56-newspapers-in-45-countries-speak-with-one-voice/

Tune Up Your Fiddles - The Fire's Begun

There is a fiscal crisis. Yeah yeah yeah. You're sick to death of hearing about it.

But really. There is.

Today's news was that the brand new MTA payroll tax New York's governor imposed on the Hudson Valley service area has come up 200 million dollars short. And the state's cutting its aid to the MTA by 143 million dollars as well.

What happened? No one's sure yet. Maybe people just haven't paid up yet. Maybe they can't. But the MTA is now scrambling to create its legally mandated balanced budget with a huge, nasty surprise hole in its revenue.

That's just the beginning, according to the governor's budget office. There are hard choices ahead, a spokesman says.

There's a three billion dollar deficit this year. Next year it's seven billion. And the next year, when the stimulus money is gone, it's thirteen billion dollars. Thirteen billion dollars.

This is in a state that's already so heavily taxed that businesses are leaving - not arriving. It's a state where personal and property taxes are among the highest in the country and while the cost of living goes up, salaries stay flat and jobs disintegrate.

You'd expect to see some very serious talk of reform at the state level. Or maybe not. If you live here, you know better.

We're transfixed by the former Senate majority leader's corruption trial (he was found guilty on two of seven counts). We're watching our former governor rebuild his image as a political pundit after being busted for paying for sex. We're arguing over whether the governor should run again or step aside.

Meanwhile, New York is burning.

There are a lot of important issues and it's hard to prioritize - there are civil rights questions, environmental issues, things that will haunt us for generations.

But not if we don't change the way we do business and make sure the state actually stays solvent.

New York mandates school programs but doesn't fund them. Instead, our taxes go up. New York mandates social programs in the counties but doesn't fund them. Our taxes go up.

There is no efficiency, there is little oversight, there's no big picture thinking.

There are highly paid positions filled by cronies and relatives. There are career politicians who are more interested in the content of their pockets and the influence they can wield than the welfare of their constituents.

There is partisan gridlock, with no better illustration than the immature, irresponsible shutdown of the Senate this past summer.

We've got crooks in the legislature - not just quiet ones but ones facing charges. Others have been convicted.

Aid to social service agencies is being cut while the need for their services is at an all time high.

We're in trouble. But there's still no sense of urgency either among the voters or in Albany.

And what's really sad is I think it's not an uncommon story.

Hear that? The fiddle's playing.

Apparently I Hit A Nerve

What a weird few days.

I did a radio show with my boss on a hot-button issue and the heavens split asunder, raining warm and fuzzy fan mail, while the earth's core also opened and hate emails were vomited forth in a seemingly endless stream. All aimed at me.

I'm the most eloquent voice on the issue. I'm a liar. I do an outstanding job and am an asset to the region. I'm a moron. I got my facts all wrong. I did a wonderful job explaining the issue. I should be featured more regularly. I should never be invited again.

I'm used to being in the public eye in a small way. This is way beyond my comfort zone.

It makes me realize just what the hot seat feels like. Very, very uncomfortable. It's not just where celebrities sizzle - it's where anyone who takes a side in a polarizing issue is tossed. Even if you don't take a side, someone will assume you did if you are put out in front and told to start dancing.

There are a couple of possible reactions. Mine is to withdraw. I'm not crazy about confrontation and if an argument can't be civil I just don't want to be part of it.
Others find it exhilarating - there's nothing like a good fight to get the blood pumping. Perhaps there are some who can maintain an emotional distance and simply debate the issue, refusing to get drawn into the heat and the venom. I'd like to be more like that, but I take it personally when I'm attacked.

I know plenty of people who take no prisoners when someone gets in their face; they don't take the first bite, but once bitten they turn into wolverines. It's very effective with bullies. I am horrified and secretly a bit envious.

I imagine it would feel really, really satisfying to bite back.

But that goes against my vision of what this life is supposed to be about. So I keep it civil. I maintain my outward poise. And I think I truly do make a horrible mistake every time I venture beyond my mailbox.

Holidays In Woodstock

The most famous small town in the world would, you would think, roll up and hibernate once the summer is over. After all, Bearsville, Allaire, the biggest music studios have closed their doors. The days of hearing Jimi Hendrix jamming amid the stale peanuts and beer at the Cafe Espresso are long gone. The Joyous Lake is a tee shirt shop. So if the tourist season is over and the music is no longer the central draw of the town, what's left?

Sheer silliness.

The Woodstock I grew up in is very different from the Woodstock I live in now. My childhood Woodstock was scruffy, worn around the edges and, to be honest, smelled a bit. It was a stoned town; there was a general fuzzy sweetness about the kids on the street and, for the most part, an affectionate tolerance from the town's "straight" residents. They were used to artists - remember that Woodstock was home to the Art Students League and both the Byrdcliffe and Maverick arts colonies long before Michael Lang's 1969 concert that used its name.

The shop that perhaps best personified what Woodstock was, was its leather shop: Happiglop. I think I'm spelling it right. It was a made up word which was the result of the owners' mis-hearing the name of an animal at the Natural History Museum. They were high at the time. That pretty much says it all.

Today's Woodstock is a bit slicker, a lot more tourist-y and a lot older. Most of the tourists who arrive looking for the old Woodstock find a couple of tie dye shops and go away content. But for those of us who live here look forward to the holidays; it's when the new Woodstock proves it's got something to offer.

Last night was the town open house. Most every shop in town opened its doors and served wine, cookies and snacks. Kids from the local school sang Christmas carols in front of the shops. The pizza shop had a cauldron with mulled cider heating over an open flame and the strip mall down the road had a bonfire, cider and s'mores.

KB and I both tend to be hermits; we go out and watch what's going on but seldom get too involved. You'll most often find us sitting on a bench on the main street with our coffee just watching the world go by. This year we got pulled into our neighbors' orbit and saw the event in an entirely new way.

Kim is an irresistible force. She used to be an actress, she's now a radio personality, a writer and a standup comic. We ran into her with the man she calls her "spousal equivalent", Joe, and we decided to tag along and see how Kim works what she calls her favorite night in town.

Her system is simple: find the shops with the wine and the best snacks, swoop in and enjoy. She's perfectly polite: she makes small talk with the owners, she samples just a little and she says thank you.

"You didn't eat before you came, did you?" Joe asked us.

We confessed we had.

"We really have to talk to you," he said.

Their dinner last night consisted, as best as I could see, of crackers, cheese, salami, cookies and, in one shining moment for Kim, cake. The cake is a story I'll save for a bit later here.

KB had his very first s'more last night and pronounced it "about what he'd expected." I think he regrets losing his status as a man who'd never tasted one.

Then we trooped up the hill and began hitting the shops. There was an art gallery with a fine spread and a lovely Husky dog. One of our friends' very little daughters was holding the dog's leash, wide eyed and delighted, while the dog snoozed happily amidst a crush of people and raucous live Celtic-inspired music. We had wine. I think my three companions also had crackers and cheese.

From there the hunt was on. One shop with wine informed us that the next shop had mulled wine. This being a distinct step up, we had to go. They also had a veggie platter. Joe and Kim got the four major food groups thanks to the local shoe shop.

Kim, at this point, was holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. She's serious about this. She forged on ahead, her long sweater flapping behind her. We followed, helpless to resist.

In the real estate office Kim discussed the merits of satin versus gloss finishes on the floors as Joe scoped out the cheese selection.

The cookies were particularly excellent in the candle shop. We discovered that one of their friends had opened a new gallery so of course we went. Amazing furniture, actually, and an enormous head created by parallel layers of what looked like green styrofoam.

Our goal was the music shop but this year they weren't open. Highly disappointing. But that was made up for by hot toddies at the streamside gift shop and Pecan Sandies. I was very excited about that.

The men's shop had cookies that sent Kim into paroxysms of delight...miniature half moon cookies.

"Oh you got real quality cookies!" she cried.

The expression on the owners' faces was somewhere between confusion and amusement.

"Go ahead and eat one," they suggested as Kim continued to coo over the plate.

There was the world's cutest Golden Retriever puppy in front of one shop. I never checked out the snacks inside because Kim and I were very busy petting his belly. Four legs straight in the air, he presented his little fuzzy soccer ball of a body for our attention.

At this point, I was introduced to a neighbor who wrote us a nasty anonymous note about the lights on the back of KB's studio - he apparently is annoyed by the lights he can see through the trees in the distance. Those are the lights which Kim, who lives directly behind us, loves. We know it's him but he never admitted it, nor has he ever spoken to us. I don't know how I'd have reacted if I hadn't been distracted by the puppy, but as it was I just "Oh, hi." and turned back to the dog. Kim was amazed.

"You didn't realize? she gaped.

"Nope. I was paying attention to the dog."

"Totally understandable," Joe said.

Peace on earth, etc.

We ran into a lot of people: Joe knows everyone, Kim knows everyone else, KB knows his fair share (though when the buxom little stoner girl threw herself into his arms for a long hug and told him she'd been wanting to come to his house and give him a massage, both Kim's eyebrows and mine shot up) and I even ran into a woman I know from junior high. Celebs were around (KB encouraged me to talk to one actor from a show we both like and, emboldened, I ran up, put a hand on his arm and said, "I really like your work. Now I'll leave you alone." He was a bit surprised but very nice.) And while we were in a shop (where aforementioned actor also ended up, trying on hats- I pretended I didn't notice.) I overhead two women whisper as they looked at KB, "Rod Stewart's here!" We said nothing. I hope they were really happy with their celebrity sighting.

Then Kim heard there was cake. You must understand that Kim loves cake. She blogged about it. She did a routine about it. She thinks cake is the answer to all of the world's problems. So free cake is not something she's going to pass by.

We walked down a side street to a basement gallery I'd never noticed. There were a couple of older men inside and yes, there was clearly something going on. There was a veggie platter, some cookies, some wine. Kim went in, followed by Joe. KB stayed outside to have a cigarette and I waited, too. But Joe peered through the window and beckoned us in. So in we went.

"It's his birthday," they informed us. The artist, an older gentleman seated at a workbench, gave us a friendly nod as we wished him a happy birthday. We had just crashed his birthday party.

Kim, always gracious and at ease, was petting his dogs' stomachs and telling him about our adventures so far. I was off in a corner, staring in wonderment at what his gallery featured. He makes intricate wire perpetual motion sculptures. Most of them look like insane ferris wheels with marbles that are lifted up, spin madly around and around, chiming bells as they pass, then landing back at the bottom only to begin the circuit again.

More guests arrived (people who knew him) and we all began to chat. Turns out they love my radio show so they were very excited to meet me and ask me why they can't figure out what my co-worker is saying when she says her name. We understand. We're still not sure if NPR's reporter is Corva Coleman or Corava Coleman or maybe Cora Vacoleman.

So Kim got her cake and Joe delightedly informed us that that's a pretty good picture of their relationship: he eggs her on to do things he would never do and she'd probably never think of. She does them with great gusto once the idea is planted. This, in fact, was not the first birthday party she'd crashed just to get a slice of cake. He dares her. Kim can't resist a dare.

It was a very silly evening.

And this is just the beginning. On Christmas Eve, the center of town is blocked off and Santa arrives - and being Woodstock, he never arrives in a sleigh. One year he was shot out of a cannon. It's a big secret and no one knows what will happen this year.

My guess is that while everyone else is watching for Santa, Kim will be hunting for cake.

The High Cost of Hosting the President

Those are cookies served to the media as they waited to cover the president's speech at West Point this week. Yeah, they actually had cookies with his picture on it.

That made me wonder - just how much did this little event cost?

I was there: I'll tell you what I saw and you can speculate along with me.

First, incredibly tight security at the gates. Several officers at each gate, dogs, security at almost every corner. Cadets were given vans and told to drive in front of reporters to make sure they parked in the appropriate lots.

From there, we were sent to the hall where the president would speak. The White House press office had a mobile office there, very sparse indeed - a couple of laptops and some harried looking people in suits.

Next door was the huge room for the media. Lines and lines of long tables, each with power and internet hook up times four. Then they brought out the food.

It was a nice gesture - they made us arrive at least eight hours prior to the speech, so they decided to feed us.

There were cold cut platters, salad and dressing. There was chili. There was lasagna. There were cookies, brownies and the very special petit fours and Obama cookies. Coffee, tea, iced tea, soda. And a spectacularly carved watermelon which spelled out "West Point".

Don't picture a bunch of fat reporters sitting around for hours eating well. Within fifteen minutes of laying out the food, we were kicked out of the building. Too bad if you hadn't eaten. It was time for the security sweep. We were left outside for the next three and half hours. At least it wasn't raining.

I spoke with a photographer who ended up going back into the building at the request of the Secret Service. He said he'd never seen anything like it - high tech equipment, dogs, weapons...it had to have cost a fortune.

Then there was the routine security - boats and divers in the river nearby. Secret service patrolling the grounds. Dogs. I stopped to take a photo of a particularly interesting tunnel and was surrounded by men with a dog.

"Can we help you?"

"I'm just taking a picture cause it's cool," I replied breezily.

It was a total lockdown. We're in a post 9-11 world.

I didn't stay; I'm not sure if they fed everyone again around dinnertime. I'll bet they did. The speech didn't begin until eight.

Then factor in the cost of flying the president to West Point, the motorcade, the police, the traffic control.

How much did all this cost?

It was no cheap outing for the media either.

It made me wonder: wouldn't it have been cheaper to fly some cadets to the White House and do it all there?

Her Name Was Scout

We got her to try to help ease the transition in a tough move. We already had the best dog in the world; his name was Gus. But Gus' puppy days were long behind him and it seemed like a great idea: a puppy would not only be a terrific playmate for two young kids, but might give Gus a new lease on life.

My daughter desperately wanted a puppy; Gus had been with us long before either of our kids were born. So we went to the local shelter's adoption fair and there she was: a little Lab/Border Collie cross with the fastest tongue in the East. We wrapped her up in a towel and brought her home. By the time we got there, she had a name - Scout.

Gus had infinite patience with her as she nipped at his ears and growled at his tail. I think he may have snickered when she got caught in the sunroom because her little legs couldn't reach up one step to get into the family room.

We tried to take pictures of her, but she was so black that she was hard to see in the tall grass. She had to grow to her full size before we could get a decent picture.

She's gone by many names, though Miss Pooh seemed to be one of our most frequent nicknames. She was also Nurse Jane Blackdog, as she had a talent for snuggling up against anyone who appeared to need care.

She loved to burst out of the back door and race in mad, ecstatic circles around us when she was feeling particularly full of herself. "Happy dog" we called it. She also piled into snowdrifts with her shoulder and push herself through them on her side. That was "snowfish".

She could play basketball with my son for hours. She'd leap up and pull down the ball with both paws as it bounced, then chase after it, trying to grab it with her teeth. She never managed to do it. But she never tired of trying.

Pooh was a pain in the ass on a leash. I have to say it. She was always so happy to get out, so anxious to see what was out in the world that the first half a mile was like playing tug of war. But she eventually settled down, realizing that she was going to be out for a nice, long while and would happily trot alongside you.

Off the leash, she could be an angel or a devil. She might stay close, or she might decide she just had to chase the neighbor's cat. Or poop in his yard. Or find a body of standing water, no matter how filthy, and jump in.

She proved it was possible to have two perfect dogs in one lifetime. She never, ever threatened anyone. She used to bare her teeth when I trimmed her toenails (she hated that), but her tongue would flick out between her teeth and she'd lick me as she made ferocious faces.

Scout was afraid of thunder. She'd come running, shivering, and hide her head when it stormed. She was afraid of spray bottles (my fault- I thought spritzing her when we tried to house train her was a gentle form of correction - it scarred her for life). We couldn't iron - she was terrified of the spray starch.

When my son went away to college, he wrote and said he missed one thing more than anything - he missed seeing Scout. I took pictures and sent them.

I missed Scout - she stayed with the kids' dad. Her life was lonely sometimes, but the kids' grandfather is a kind soul and he decided she'd make a great shop dog. In her last few years he came to pick her up a few times a week and brought her to his antique shop. She loved going to work.

I got a note from my daughter tonight that Scout was gone. I called. She had a tumor, she said. It burst. It was either surgery she wouldn't survive or putting her to sleep. My daughter said she stayed with her. I so wish I could have been there.

Scout loved jamming herself between your legs and forcing you to scratch her butt. She'd stand there for hours if you'd put up with it. She loved chewing. She went through chew bones made for wolves - she'd destroy them. But she never chewed furniture. She never wrecked anything. She never broke anything.

Except maybe my heart.

A Turning Point for A New President

President Obama will be at West Point tomorrow night. He's expected to announced the deployment of an additional thirty thousand soldiers to Afghanistan.

I'll be there. It's history and sad as it is, I want to witness it.

I subscribe to a very interesting report called Stratfor. It's a subscription-supported intelligence gathering report. It offers in depth analysis of global issues, particularly the developments in politics and the military. It's fascinating reading.

There are already 68 thousand Americans in Afghanistan, fighting alongside 45 thousand soldiers from NATO and other countries. It's the biggest foreign presence since the Russians got whupped there.

Afghanistan is known as the graveyard of empires...and it's very likely we'll fare no better there than the Russians, the British and even Genghis Khan.

We've enraged the Taliban by our complicity in mass murders. We missed bin Laden when we nearly had him; we decided we wanted Iraq's oil.

Stratfor's analysis is that we cannot get enough soldiers (I refuse to call them 'troops' - it's a way of depersonalizing them. They are people.) across the massive region to do any good, nor can we get them in and out quickly enough to satisfy an American public weary of war. It concludes that what will matter is where the president decides to deploy our soldiers.

I think Afghanistan may prove to be the issue that sinks this president. He came into office with a huge tide of goodwill. Despite an economy more challenging than any in most of our memories, many of his supporters haven't given up on him. His efforts to get health care reform finally done deserves credit. But if he sinks our already-exhausted military into yet another unwinnable war, the Democrats can kiss the White House goodbye.

He is the president. He has a choice. I'll be there to see what it is. And I'm truly hoping he'll surprise me.

GivesMeHope.com

NOW I really have something to be grateful for. My daughter told me about this site and it was a ray of sunshine on a gloomy day. GivesMeHope.com is a response to FMyLife.com, a site on which people wrote down the most discouraging, disheartening events in their lives. It's a great idea, but infinitely depressing.

Gives Me Hope is the flip side of that coin - people writing down little notes describing an experience that makes them think that life may just be worthwhile.

It also has a YouTube page. Nice antidote when you feel like you're sinking.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jn2s81Zup2Y

Listen to Your Grandparents

Thanksgiving's a great time to get together with relatives. Somehow it's not nearly so emotionally loaded as that Christmas/Hanukkah/Epiphany/Kwanzaa/New Year season. Families just sit down to a meal. No gifts, no nostalgia for Thanksgivings past, no tears, no pressure. And if you're lucky, everybody talks. It can be really interesting.

This year was a good year. The talk turned to politics, then the economy. And we had the good fortune to have three people at the table who've passed their eightieth birthdays and appear likely to be around for another decade. They had some very interesting observations about the world we live in.

"We have never owed anyone anything," one couple told us. "We bought a house when we could pay cash. Now we own several and rent them out. We don't carry balances on our credit cards. We drive a ten year old car. We don't eat out much."

Don't pity them. They don't live a deprived life. They have two vacation homes (they rent them out in the prime season so they pay for themselves), they travel, they collect art. But they respect the money they've made in their professions and spend it only on things that really matter to them.

"We don't spend what we don't have."

They say that's where they see today's society going wrong.

"What is Black Friday all about? What are they buying?" they asked in genuine bemusement.

Good question. Electronics, apparently. The latest gotta-have-it goody that will be obsolete in three months and broken in six months to a year.

I'm torn. I like my modern conveniences. I like my computer (except when a virus tries to sneak on board, as it did this morning. That just infuriates me. Why can't PC's be reliably virus-free?), I like my washer and dryer, I like central heat. But I find myself longing for an off grid lifestyle that's simpler, that lets me unplug - no, that FORCES me to unplug. I'm a lazy slug. I'll watch TV when I could read. I'll read when I could write. And my back tells me my days of hauling wood and shoveling snow are over - doubt I'd last long if I had to heat with wood now.

But I don't want a cell phone - I have a cheapo pay as you go because my job requires it. I don't use it for much else. I have one television. I'd like to throw it out the window but I still watch it. I don't need a PalmPre, an iPhone, a hURL, a wEDGIE, a sLice or any other cutesie name they may come up with for yet another piece of technology that plugs me into the grid.

For Christmas, I want some good company and good conversation. I want to be with people who like to laugh. I don't want to go to the mall and I don't anyone going there for me. I'd rather we all saved our money for what really matters to each of us.

For me, the best gift would be a little more peace - not only in the world, but in my own little corner of it. We all deserve it.

Happy Gratitude Day

This one's a challenge this year, but let me give it a shot:

I'm thankful for my guy - he's been a gift.

I'm thankful for my kids - they've become interesting and worthwhile human beings.

I'm thankful there are a growing number of people who won't eat meat today. I'm glad that I'm one of them

I'm grateful for my health, though I take it for granted.

I'm grateful for the people I've known, the friends I have and the ones I've lost touch with. I've had a rich life.

I'm grateful for opportunities - both ones I've pursued and ones that have dropped into my lap.

I'm thankful for the natural beauty I've been lucky enough to grow up in. I've seen a truly dark sky, heard nothing but birds and smelled nothing but pine needles. I've been underwater in a freshwater pond and stood under a waterfall. That, I know, is a gift.

Hope you all have something to be grateful for, too.

Just 'Cause You Can't Let Lies Go Unnoticed...

Dana Perino on terrorist attacks

Changing the World

Time to focus on the positive - focusing on the negative is just making me miserable.

So here's a book that could spark a discussion about creating a sustainable future.

I interviewed author Peter Brown today. The idea is based on the Quaker concept of Right Relationship. That means that no one interest prospers at the expense of others or the expense of the general good. The question this book poses is simple: what if we built an economy based on the realization that our environment is fragile and its resources are limited instead of an economy based on using it up?

The authors propose a solution that will hit some as radical; the creation of a global federation with all existing countries becoming member states. The creation of a global court that can enforce agreements made by that federation. Rule by consensus, not majority. An economy based on awareness of environmental impacts, meaning more local economies, more local thinking.

Brown says any concerns about loss of sovereignty are misguided - that's already been lost. He points to the fact that the United States is in debt to China up to its eyeballs.

What's required, he says, is a mass public rejection of the current economic values, an acknowledgement that they don't work and a demand for reform. He says there is precedent for such a sea change - he points to anti-smoking campaigns, anti-drunk driving campaigns, civil rights and even anti-slavery movements of the past.

There are resources for learning more, for deciding what could work and what couldn't. This book is a good starting point for discussion, particularly the Quaker emphasis on consensus. It can work. It has. He argues that now it must.


Moral economy

International Day of Climate Action

Gund Institute for Ecological Economics

Local Money

You Know You're Old Part Two: the American Music Awards

I watched the whole thing. I was wiped out after planning a really nice little surprise birthday thing for my guy, I was sprawled on the couch and hey, I like music.

I didn't like this. None of it. It was just godawful. Music was the very last thing anyone cared about. Which is pretty damned ironic for an award about music. Unless you get real and call it the American Idol Awards

Here's what the LA Times had to say - I'd like to reply.

2009 American Music Awards: Grading the performances
November 22, 2009 | 5:18 pm

Grading the performances at the 2009 American Music Awards, typos and all.

Janet Jackson. So, supposedly the American Music Awards were going to open with a performance from Janet, and that's technically what happened. Except Janet's performance was largely a commercial for her "Number Ones," in which the singer, in a tan outfit that looked like it was ripped straight from the racks at REI, performed a medley of her hits. Imagine going to Amazon.com and clicking on a bunch of song samples from her two-disc set. That's largely what this performance was -- it's "Miss You Much"! and now it's "What Have You Done for Me Lately"! -- and if you were a Janet fan, you surely enjoyed this swift little medley. It was a safe and solid opening, and it gets a slight bonus for focusing entirely on Janet and not becoming another Michael tribute, so B-.

First, so what with the clothes? I liked 'em, you didn't. Spare me. Yes, it was definitely Janet reminding the audience that she'd had a few hits. Did you expect something new? It is about Michael, still, and Janet knew that by the placement and emphasis on Miss You Much. It was okay as a dance routine, which is what this is all about. Singing is totally secondary. I really like Janet, always have. But she and another dancing diva need to come up with a second act because Madonna's shown that there's something creepy about trying to be Britney after 40. C

Daughtry. Boom! Nothing ignites the excitement of a three-hour award show like a mid-tempo rock ballad from heartland rockers Daughtry. "No, there's no life after you," leader Chris Daughtry sings through gritted teeth, trying to muster some importance out of these tepid lyrics and lightly strummed electric guitars. This type of song is typically saved for the moments during an arena show when a band says, "This one is for the ladies," and everyone goes and buys a hot dog. D

And we don't want those moments at an awards show. Got it. Of course he's bland. He's an American Idol. D


Shakira. Rather than perform "She Wolf," Shakira opts for her more recent single "Give It Up to Me," and turns in a performance worthy of Broadway's "STOMP." A little militant, and a little bit "Single Ladies," Shakira's minimalistic outfit matched the sparseness of the song. Her dancing didn't match the oddness of "She Wolf," but it was aggressive, and put the viewer on the defensive. B

"Her dancing". There you have it, folks. This is about costumes and dancing. Welcome to the Coliseum and may the most shocking win. Shakira can sing. You wouldn't know it from her performance. And for me, it ends there. D

Keith Urban. In case Shakira was too risque for you, don't worry -- the AMAs went right back to PG with Urban's good-time country rocker, "Kiss a Girl." The AMAs have gone back and forth between sexy and middle-of-the-road thus far, and Urban, sporting a slightly shiny Western shirt, kept things simple and to the point. "Say goodbye to all the rules," he sings in the song, but this country-crossover rocker never strays from them. B-

Keith Urban can play guitar. He instead rolled out this bland piece of white bread that I've heard him play on a gazillion other shows. And where were the dancers? What's pitiful is you just know if Nicole had hopped onstage and shimmied, he'd have been called a show-stopper. C-

Kelly Clarkson. Yes, she had an album this year -- don't forget! -- and she sold it well tonight with a solid take on "Already Gone." Looking glamorous and sounding terrific, Clarkson was a classic throwback, a reminder of a time when "American Idol" didn't make all artists think they had to over-sing. B+

Kelly looked nice and sounded okay. She didn't sound great. I'm sorry - no one did. No one. Singing just wasn't part of what mattered. C

Alicia Keys and Jay-Z. Dressed all spiffy in their finest formal wear, Keys and Jay-Z performed their pandering "Empire State of Mind." This was fine the first time we heard it on an award show -- at the MTV Video Music Awards, and it was fine at the World Series, but enough. It's worn out its welcome. Yes, we know New York is cool. Bars are open late and the public transportation is swell and all, but performing this love letter to New York in Los Angeles? We're tired of it. No more songs about cities. D Side-note: The introduction by Alex Rodriguez gets an F. And was he chewing gum? He's unprofessional off the field too.

You're just mad 'cause Jay-Z has managed to sell this piece of garbage by sheer force of will. It is annoying and unmusical - agreed. A-Rod? He sleeps with gum in his mouth. If you want rock star, get rock stars to present the awards. Oh. Wait. That's right. The rock stars avoided this show like the swine flu. F

The Black Eyed Peas. The Los Angeles popsters received a showcase performance, getting to offer live takes of "Meet Me Halfway" and "Boom Boom Pow," two of the most ubiquitous songs of the year. Viewers were reminded of this fact repeatedly, with their sales constantly hyped, and the Black Eyed Peas declaring themselves "the new kings" at the end of their performance. On record, "Meet Me Halfway" is all electronic futurism. Live, it was a bit messier, but there was plenty of eye candy in this extended performance. Crazy wigs and stereo outfits and some crowd-pleasing samples of C+C Music Factory and Nirvana. It was all pop-culture nonsense, and that's what the Black Eyed Peas excel at. B+

More hype, more costumes, Fergie looking swell and actually singing. That was nice. I thought they were less horrible than just about everyone else but really...they were horrible, too. C+

Rihanna. Ne-Yo told us that the "R" in her "Rated R" stands for either "remarkable" or "really, really sexy." Not quite sure if it completely hit both of those notes, but it was definitely over too soon. Performing in a sort of sci-fi junkyard, Rihanna came onstage in what could have been a torture device. Like Lady Gaga and the Black Eyed Peas, Rihanna is definitely tapping into the cyborg pop mentality that's all the rage at the moment (nice spikes on the shoulders). She gave us snippets of two songs from "Rated R" -- "Wait Your Turn" and "Hard" -- but it would have been better to just stick with one. To her credit, she sounded sharp, metallic and owned the songs. The night's best performance thus far. A-

Are you kidding me??? The girl cannot sing. Cannot sing. Pretty, nice outfit, showy, you bet. Sing? Just awful! Stop focusing on the space between her outfit's straps and listen! D

Carrie Underwood. Was it really just a week ago that this song was performed on the Country Music Assn. Awards? There were fewer nods to Nashville tonight, or maybe it was just too hard to focus on the slide guitar when Underwood was sporting some kind of half-dress, half-lingerie outfit, and the band was nowhere to be seen. This wasn't about the song; it was about her strutting around onstage. C

No kidding. That's what the whole show was about. This was completely American Idol and Carrie, the cutest singing Barbie doll ever, tried gamely. It was gruesome. But at least the singing mattered. C-

Lady Gaga. Coming onstage like a creature from "Pan's Labyrinth," Lady Gaga was all twitchy masked dance moves for this two-song medley. That was a good thing, as her "Bad Romance" is a bit of a mess, ultimately falling back on the retro-synth choruses that Gaga can't resist. There was broken glass and a flaming piano (no flaming bras, sadly), and Gaga showed off her pipes on "Speechless" as she got violent with some water bottles. Gaga makes for entertaining television, no doubt, but at some point she's going to need more than just crazy masks, pryo and fake blood. C+

She looks so depressed all the time. Probably because Gaga tries so hard, pushes for shock value and never wins a damned award. Again, she can sing. But it doesn't matter. It's about the spectacle. Hope you enjoyed it, my fellow Romans. D-

Mary J. Blige. Her "I Am" isn't a knock-out on par with "I Can See in Color," but it's the type of ballad Blige can perfectly deliver in her sleep. On a night were futuristic flash and bare skin were all the rage, Blige kept it lovingly old school. B

Old school performance. Old voice. I'm not picking particularly on today's artists - there just comes a time when you have to realize your voice is shot and it's time to stop. I felt the same way about Sinatra. If you go old school, you're supposed to be able to sing and sing a good song. Mary J. was a snooze without much of a voice. C

Jennifer Lopez. Given an elaborate stage with a fake boxing ring, Lopez was hyped as "the main event." She wasn't. Her "comeback" single, "Louboutins," is a silly little trifle, and that may even be too complimentary. She sounded Auto-Tuned for the entire performance, and the title is a ridiculous word to repeat multiple times in a pop song. But it'll sell some shoes this holiday season, so maybe some retailers are stoked. D

JLo and Janet should talk. The song was awful, she seemed forced and whoever convinced her to climb the backs of dancers and jump probably got fired after she landed on her keister. Aging gracefully and dancing diva clearly are not compatible. C-

Whitney Houston. She received a standing ovation, and it was deserved. With "I Didn't Know My Own Strength," Houston hollered and showed a bit of a rasp. If her instrument isn't what it once was, it can still silence a room. Compared to Blige a few songs ago, Houston was perhaps a bit over the top, but she belted until she was nearly out of breath. It was a powerful moment. But the angelic background lighting? Could have done without that. A-

Ah, Whitney. How long since she's had a hit? Another voice trashed and she did it all by herself. It was a strange, jerky performance done that had me filling in the blanks during that excessively long adultation-fest near the end of the song. "Aren't you lucky I'm still around? It sure would have been a shame if I'd died, huh? I still sound gooood, baby. You know you love me." Really. C-

Alicia Keys. Getting a chance to redeem herself for her earlier performance, Keys drops her new single, "Try Sleeping With a Broken Heart," in her second performance of the evening, touching on a bit of '70s R&B vibe. Her gold-draped jacket will dominate the gossip sites Monday, and the single's good too. Keys doesn't belt at the top of her lungs here, and though I prefer her when she's at the piano (she sat down and played in the song's final moments), she's softly restrained for much of the song. The background dancers, copping some vintage "West Side Story" Broadway moves, were cute to boot. B+

Yeah, she sat down at the piano toward the end and sang like an amateur. A dopey performance, a so-so song and a highly overrated artist. KB liked the dancer guy. Thought he was terrific. I thought the concept was pretty stupid: "you dance around Alicia and she'll push you away." D

Eminem and 50 Cent. The censors worked overtime in this collaboration for "Crack a Bottle," as there was more silence than music. That about sums up the performance as well, as this was all offensive swagger. But it didn't shock -- it was simply kind of annoying. D

And I keep trying to hate Em and fail. He is the most rhythmically interesting rapper out there, in my opinion, and despite writing Songs for Psychos, his lyrics are imaginative and intelligent. He could leave Fifty Cent home...he contributes nothing. That said, you can't perform when most of what you do has to be bleeped. Why even try? C-

Timbaland, SoShy and Nelly Furtado. This song needed a little more Nelly Furtado and a little less Timbaland, but the producer-rapper certainly keeps good company. This slinky dance-floor cut excels when newbie SoShy and Furtado trade vocals, and hits a bit of a wall when Timbaland controls the microphone. B

Timbaland and the Talents. Another dopey song, another big dance routine. Las Vegas has taken over the music business and it's just more of the same. C

Green Day. Here to perform recent single "21 Guns." It's the least exciting of the singles from "21st Century Breakdown," but it does show off the band's more theatrical, serious side. With all its stops and starts, and on-the-sleeve crooning from Billie Joe Armstrong, it certainly feels important, but it never quite takes off. B-

But it was an attempt to do a musical performance. Props for that. B-

Adam Lambert. You wouldn't have seen this on "American Idol," a show that has broadcast its share of monstrosities. Borrowing some of Rihanna's shoulder spikes and torture devices, Lambert dragged women around onstage and got frisky with dudes, all in what seemed like an overly calculated way to show himself off as some sort of glam-gone-dangerous artist -- and to instantly distance Lambert from the family-friendly "Idol" fare. It all would have been forgivable if the song actually had a hook. Lambert has the voice, and a charisma that stands out in today's pop music landscape, but this was provocation by the numbers. D

-Todd Martens

We are in total agreement, except that's what the whole damned SHOW was. American Idol has taken over American music and this stupid, unmusical, shock-entertainment Las Vegas on drag shlock is what's called a performance. Bad song, dumb performance by Adam...no melody, no soul and just a few vocal runs to prove he can do them. I do not care about his sexual proclivities and I'm not stunned by a stupid S&M dance number - I'm just disappointed by it. I'll take his Idol performance of "Mad World" over this any day of the week...I'll even take "Ring of Fire" that the judges hated.

So there you go - not a bright spot in the entire dreary evening. It was like watching a bad car accident - and left me feeling just that depressed.