Beauty and the Beast

It has long been said that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”.  When I first heard that expression I asked my mother what it meant and she told me that what was beautiful to one person, might not be to another.  Everyone defined their own beauty.  I always thought my mother one of the most beautiful women in the world.   As a young girl I would watch  the ritual of her brushing her thick dark hair, or applying her ruby red lipstick  and believe it was truly like watching an art form blossom.  I would tell her how pretty she was, and she would  shake her head and tsk, tsk me as if I was being so silly while  at the same time she slyly stole glances in the mirror as if to say, “yes, it’s true”.

I grew up and discovered the joys of makeup, the art of hairdressing and  the power women can have over men when we choose to dress alluringly.  I enjoyed the compliments I received from both men and women  and knew that I was pretty.  I loved having my picture taken and didn’t mind being the life of the party.  I still love fashion and love a good shopping trip with my daughter topped off with a trip to our favorite Mexican restaurant.

But something happened  a few years ago that was unexpected.  I began to feel ugly.  Not just an off day, mind you, but deep down, hideous ,  who would ever want to speak to her ugly!!

Don’t Pay Your Taxes!!!

I will be the first to admit that I was not happy about Barak Obama being elected as our new President.  While others spoke of change and hope, all I could see was more government regulation, bigger government and intrusiuon into our lives.  As I watched bits and parts of the Inauguration, or as I disdainfully referred to it, a love fest,  I bemoaned what was going to become of our great country for the next four to eight years.  While others celebrated President Obama’s victory and their deliverance from the oppression of all the tyrannies of capitalism, war, social injustice, and work, another social injustice that so many have been subjected to  raised it’s head about the same time….paying your taxes.

While many of my friends and associates are running around gathering receipts and wondering if they should cough up $60 or $70 for a tax program or tough it out and stand in line at the library for all the bewildering forms from good ‘ol Uncle Sam, I am not worrying.  While ads are bombarding me with TURBO TAX promotions or H&R BLOCK, I simply ignore them and pour another glass of pinot grigio. 

 You see, my friends, I have embraced the change that President Obama espoused in all the speeches that he gave as he ran for office.  And he is now backing up that rhetoric by endorsing Timothy Giethner as the Secretary of Treasury.  Timothy Giethner who owed over $48K in back taxes to the very agency he now oversees.  President Obama continued to stand by Tom Daschle even while evidence continued to come in that Daschle owed over $140,000 in back taxes.  That’s a lot of money folks.  Some how I find it hard to believe you just don’t forget to pay that much money.  Although Daschle has withdrawn from being considered for Health and Human Services director, the excuse that “nobody’s perfect” seems a little lame for owing that much in back taxes.  I hardly think I or you would get such a pass….but then maybe we will. 

Barack Obama is far closer to Daschle than he is to Geithner.  Obama knew that Daschle had failed to pay taxes on Monday, and he knew that Daschle had failed to pay taxes on Tuesday. If Obama doesn’t want to send the message that there are “two sets of rules”–one for members of his administration and one for ordinary citizens–then why did Daschle have to go if Geithner got to stay? When Charles Gibson asked Obama this question  on ABC NEWS on Tuesday, the president dodged, saying, “Well, as I said, I think everybody makes mistakes. Tim owned up to them. And I think I’ve been very clear of the fact that this was a bad mistake.” 

After all, this is the dawn of a new era.  A time for setting aside the past and looking to the future.  A time for hope and reconciliation.

It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

I Remember Rain

The soft pitter patter of rain on my windows, the rivlets  running down the panes, the puddles in the drive way has eluded my life for months now.  Gone are the days of snuggling down into my sofa reading while listening to the rain, a pot of soup simmering on the stove or sipping a cup of hot tea.  It has been too long since  I have been able   to  lie in bed while the thunder rolls and listen to  the rain pelt the windows.  The trees around here have taken on an eery thick beige coating of dust.  Everything is brown.  There may not be any wildflowers this year.  Wildflowers need rain in the winter.  
Whoever heard of Easter without wildflowers?  That’s just wrong!  Each cold front promises rain, but doesn’t deliver.  It only brings a red flag warning of “High fire danger” because of the low humidity and dry conditions. It’s as if the weathermen were snake-oil salesman.  Promising desperate people a 20% chance of showers that never comes.  We believe them because we want to, we must; but in our heart we know we have heard the prediction before and been left high and dry.