And the hits just keep on coming

I don't mind rollercoasters in the grand scheme of things.  At least they keep things lively.

Honestly?  In all seriousness, the carnival ride that scares me the most isn't the rollercoaster or the hammer or the freefall or the centrifuge thingie.  Generally I'm just fine with those.  No, the one that I will not get up on, except maybe one day with Lillian, is the ferris wheel.

Scares the shit out of me.  Every time. 

Because you have time to THINK about where you are and what your position is, and you're suspended there, helpless and swaying.  I hate it. 

Go on, if you want to.  I'll be over here whapping moles.  See you after.

And all my enjoyment of these rides was heightened when Lou and I got on one, I forget which one, with dear Tom and just as the thing creaked into motion, he leaned over and said cheerfully, "You know, the guy who put this whole contraption together was probably stoned."

Talk about an adrenaline spike!

So today was another ride on the rollercoaster.  No, my alarm went off on time, and while Tammy was still out sick, things were just going along.  You know, the way they do when you're slowly chugging up that hill and it seems so slow and easy?  Yeah.

Then, after running one credit card transaction, the brand new credit card machine (remember the trouble from last January?  Yeah, that one) said it wasn't going to work.  It chose not to.

So I called customer service and they said that the "CE" message it was giving meant there was a communications error and that the problem wasn't the machine, just the way it talked to the rest of the world.

JB and I spent - and I'm not exaggerating here - the better part of four hours trying new things, hooking up lines, re-booting, re-routing, re-thinking the whole process.  We finally narrowed it down to either the router or the wall connection. 

And we discovered along the way that we can have either credit card service or telephone, not both.  But we were at least marginally functional, as long as no one needed a credit card rung up while the phone was in use (Sorry, Mat, but it'll be okay tomorrow!).

Finally, JB had to go take his son to lacrosse practice, we'd had a long talk with the phone company who are sending out a new router, and I could get on with the rest of the day.  It was only 3:30, what's a day in the life of a bookseller anyway?

Then on the way home, it started to snow. 

It's March 26th in the Pacific Northwest where things are supposed to be damp but moderate, and they're saying we could have up to FOUR INCHES on Friday. 

Just in time for my root canal.

Yeah, one of those days.

But you know what?  It's okay.  It's all about perspective, and I got some, and I'm going to share it with you.  Go get a cup of coffee or something, take a deep breath, this is going to take a while.

Ready?  Okay.

I'm going to send you over to read Cornelia Read's essay - it's really too important to be a simple blog post.  And I want you to read it all the way through.

This isn't a funny or easy one, although she's capable of those, but it's important.  And we all need to know about it, especially if you love children.  It might depress you, but mostly I'm counting on it making you angry.  I am.

I know, I do know that a lot of the people who are saying some of the things she's saying ought to be wearing tinfoil hats.  They should.  But I know Cornelia.  She's not a crank, and she's not a fool.  She's been researching this for a long, long time, and she just had to speak. 

And to know why she did and why she is saying these things, all you have to do is look at the last picture and read her last line.  Look at that face and tell me you wouldn't fight like a tiger too. 

I'm not raising a call to arms, I'm not saying storm the bastions of complacency.  I'm just saying be aware.  And when you have choices to make, now or in the future, for the sake of the children you love, ask the tough questions and don't settle for the smug and supercilious answers. 

Do it for me, do it for Cornelia, do it for Lila.  Do it for your kids.  Do it because it's the right thing to do.

Comments

[Cornelia Read]

Thank you.

I promised myself I wasn't going to cry, when I was writing that post. I wasn't going to get personal, or start ranting, or throw things... but most importantly I *wasn't* going to cry.

It took me three days to write it. Partly because I kept having to walk away from my computer, because I was about to start really weeping, and I knew that wouldn't help get the point across.

I managed that, but just reading this made me totally, abjectly, completely lose it.

I really, really needed to do that. And it means a great deal to me that you've said what you've said here.

Thank you, dear Fran.

[Melissa]

Wow, what an intense posting. When I was in college I did some research on methyl mercury, had to do everything inside a fume hood, layers of gloves, have someone around to make sure I didn't contaminate myself or others. Mercury is scary shit. The phrase 'mad as a hatter' comes from the neurological damage from the mercury used in the felting process of making hats! Mercury compounds are popular as anti-fungicides and bactericides because they are so effective. There have been whole villages damaged when people have eaten grains intended for planting having been treated with mercury compounds. These compounds were also used in makeup! And in Japan they call methyl mercury poisoning Minimata Disease http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minamata_disease
Knowing how dangerous these compounds are and still not doing anything about it is inexcusable.