Spring 2013
Oslo was beautiful, clean, friendly, quaint and very expensive. I went to the Nobel Prize Museum, an art museum and this sculpture garden. And then I paid $15 for a bottle of beer and that hurt. But I am over it now (13 years later).
Spring 2013
I only had one day in Denmark so we went to the part of town that is notorious for selling cannabis in the open. At this time, it was illegal to sell pot but the police looked the other way because this little part of town had become such a tourist attraction. So busloads of people stopped by each day. We were not allowed to take any photos and many of the merchants had all of their merchandise on a study sheet that could be gathered up securely at the moment's notice in the event the cops came by and tried to maintain some superficial semblance of law and order. The merchants could flee quickly and securely.
I didn't buy anything.
Pat Carbine | |
|---|---|
| Born | January 31, 1931 Villanova, Pennsylvania, U.S. |
| Alma mater | Rosemont College (B.A.) |
| Occupation | Magazine editor |
| Known for | Co-founder of Ms. |
Patricia Theresa Carbine (born January 31, 1931) is an American feminist and magazine editor. She was executive editor of Look, which was the highest position held by a woman at a general interest magazine, and the vice president and editor-in-chief of McCall's. She was one of the founders of Ms. magazine and served as one of the first publishers and the first editor-in-chief.
Carbine was born on January 31, 1931, in Villanova, Pennsylvania.She attended Mater Misericordiae Academy between 1936 and 1948. She received her Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Rosemont College in 1952.
source: Wikipedia
I met Pat in 2023 while I was at a ceremony at our common high school Alma Mater. I was being recognized on stage and she was sitting in the audience. The principal introduced her to the crowed auditorium and she stood up and waved to us. I had never heard of her.
But, apparently, as she was climbing the ladder of pushing for women and equity, journalists would contact our high school and ask questions about Pat. Apparently, the administration claimed that she never attended our school. Apparently she was an open lesbian. Apparently, her stand on abortion was offensive for this Catholic girls' high school. So they just pretended that they didn't know her. But today, on the day of her 75th year since she graduated, she was finally recognized.
After the Parkland mass shooting, the kids who survived wanted to stage a national protest and were encouraging students around the country to join them in a specific name. This challenge made national news and students and principal alike were interviewed by the media to see if students were goin to participate and if schools would tolerate this activism. In th midst of all of this, I posted my position on Facebook:
If I were still a high school principal, I would meet with my student council leaders and help them organize an event for this day. This is a teachable moment and an opportunity for students to lead. I wish them luck and offer my support.
Here were some responses form the community:
FROM A FORMER STUDENT: You were truly a wonderful principal and always had the students’ best interests at heart.
MY RESPONSE: - you could still be involved and help them organize! You would be just what they need!
FROM A FORMER TEACHER: I won't go to SHS because I don't want to step on that principal's toes. But I'm going to make contact with some people I still know. This would be a very empowering moment for kids. After so many of these killings, I have become afraid. I can't imagine how they feel.
MY RESPONSE: I totally understand. I know you would be involved if you were still there. I heard that students from Parkland were going to DC to March on April 20th which is the anniversary of Columbine. I hope these students can help with the long overdue change needed.
FROM A PARENT: Someone needs to step on his toes, Bridget E Kelly 🙊 My son is a senior at SHS, he showed me this and didn’t think kids would walk out. I told him how we pulled the fire alarms back when I was in HS to support you! 😊
Oil Treatment
Kathmandu, Nepal
December 2017
OMG, I let some woman drip hot oil on to my forehead for two hours and they were the most relaxing two hours of my life. And when I left the spa, my hair looked like Medusa but I didn't care because I felt was if I was floating through life.
Haikus of Descent #5
I am using AI everyday to generate haikus about the orange idiot's failed leadership. This the 5th edition of the series.
Sending Individuals to a Prison in El Salvador
Our America Today
April 2025
The decision to send a legally sanctioned individual to a prison in El Salvador is both outrageous and deeply troubling. El Salvador's prison system has faced global condemnation for human rights abuses, overcrowding, and inhumane conditions. Subjecting someone, regardless of their legal status, to this treatment undermines the principles of justice, due process, and international human rights standards. Legal sanction does not equate to a forfeiture of dignity or basic protections.
Transferring individuals to environments notorious for violence, lack of medical care, and minimal oversight raises serious ethical and legal concerns. It signals a dangerous precedent, where punishment trumps rehabilitation and human rights are disregarded. Furthermore, it erodes public trust in the rule of law and tarnishes the integrity of legal systems that prioritize fairness.
Outrage is not only justified, it is necessary to demand accountability, transparency, and the upholding of fundamental human values across borders.
Usually, I write every day but I haven’t touched my computer since Sunday afternoon when my friend called me to tell me that her husband has been harboring a second family for the past 9 years. I am devastated, anger and bewildered. But i just couldn't write about it. So today, I thought I have to write something before I imploded from my anger. I used AI and this is what came up and it describes my emotional state perfectly.
I am struggling to put my emotions into words, weighed down by a sadness so heavy it feels impossible to lift. Someone I trusted, someone I called my friend, has shattered that bond beyond repair. He confessed that he had been living a lie: happily married but with a second family hidden away, It was as though the ground beneath me disappeared. Every conversation, every shared moment now feels tainted, rewritten by this betrayal I never saw coming. I believed in him, laughed with him, and offered loyalty that now feels foolish. The pain isn't just from the lies, but from the ease with which he told them, the casual way he let me build a friendship on false ground. Grief and anger rage together inside me, and I wonder if I ever truly knew him at all. His confession ended more than a friendship. It has damaged my ability to trust.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I absolutely hate him.
Nicaragua
Spring 2011
I was standing in the plaza, watching some professional dancers who were there to entertain us. It was hot that day. And as I looked around to survey the crowd, this beautiful girl captured my attention. And so I captured her face. Those eyes just pierced through me.
A few weeks later, I had this photo developed and something about it seemed off. It took me awhile to realize that there are two girls in this photo. I don't think I even saw the other girl that day in the plaza. I just saw this gorgeous face.
Katmandu, Nepal
November 2017
I was teaching leadership skills to college women in Katmandu. Rita was in my class. She had run away from home at the age of 14 becasue her parents wanted to sell her off in marriage. And she was having none of that.
A family took her in and helped her get through high school and now she was in college and determined to step up in the world.
Her story was so inspirations that her classmates began going to remote villages every so often and giving presentations to the community about the drawbacks of child brides. They spoke to parents and to school children and asked all of these people to sign a pledge to stand up against the practice of pushing daughters to marry so young.
I often think of Rita and wonder what has been the outcome of these courageous acts. Some people, like Rita, have so much more courage than me.
Cremations
Katmandu, Nepal
November 2017
The first time I came to this site was in 1999. I was with a group and our tour guide would not let us go any further out of respect for the moment. There were several cremations going on this day. The moment intrigued me.
I returned to Katmandu in 2017 and I told me Nepali friend that I had been here before but had to keep my distance out of respect for the dead. She was surprised by that and couldn't understand this mandate from my previous guide.
So she took me here for the afternoon and encouraged me to get as close as I wanted. She went across the river and laid down on a bench and took a nap. I sat close to a family who were cremating a grandmother. I didn't see any outward demonstration of grief or sadness. It seemed more like they were in a hurry to get the task down.
I later learned that this sense of hurry was a reflection of their desire to allow the grandmother to begin the process of reincarnation. She couldn't start this rebirth until her body left this earth. And so, this afternoon, she was now free to return.
Trump's reckless approach to tariffs destabilized the stock market and hurt American businesses and consumers. His unpredictable trade wars, especially with China, created economic uncertainty, triggering volatile market swings and undermining investor confidence. Instead of strengthening U.S. industries, the tariffs raised costs for manufacturers and farmers, many of whom rely on global supply chains and foreign markets. The erratic policy shifts, often announced via tweets, made it difficult for businesses to plan ahead.
Ultimately, Trump’s impulsive economic tactics prioritized political posturing over thoughtful strategy, putting short-term attention above long-term economic stability and growth. He needs to be impeached yet again and removed from office.
We could only go inside if we had to use the bathroom and we had to call to her through the mail slit to let her know we needed to come it. And then we had to go right out again.
But kids today, in the USA, don't drink from the hose. They drink from water bottles or from pitchers of cold, filtered water. They don't even drink directly from the tap or a water fountain.
So when I saw these kids lining up for a drink from the hose, I just stopped and watch. I was so nostalgic that I wanted to put my water bottle down and join them for a nice, unsatisfying lukewarm sip.
But recently, I have been going there on an irregular basis. And one day, I got on the stationary bike to see if I could bike a mile within 6 minutes. And I did. And then I took a photo to show the world. And then I wobbled up to my apartment and took a nap.
A Confrontation At The Market
Somewhere in Tibet
June 1999
Our guide dropped us off at our hotel and said he would be back in tow hours to take us to dinner. The other group members went up to their rooms to relax but, out of the corner of my eye, I saw an open air market that I wanted to explore. So, off I went by myself.
There were probably 50 merchants here and the venue was empty. As a matter of fact, I think I was the only customer. So all eyes were on me. There were all sorts of things for sale: food, clothing, trinkets, artifacts, etc.
I picked something up out of curiosity. It looked to be bronze and I couldn't tell if it was a tool or an ornament. And that was a mistake. The merchant leapt out of her corner and charged at me, begging me with hand gestures to buy this thing that I could not identify. I tried to tell her that I wasn't interested but she just rubbed her stomach to indicate that she was hungry. "No sale today", she struggled to tell me in her broken english.
"No, no," I tell her. "just looking" and I attempt to move on as I put this thing back in its spot. I stepped away and planned on moving on. But she wasn't accepting my response. She came right up to me and grabbed my arm, holding the thing and begging me. "No sale today" she pleaded again.
Now, a second woman appeared out of nowhere. She, too, had a similar object in her hand and she appeared to start a bidding war on her object. She, too, had no sales today and she too was hungry. And she, too, gripped my other arm.
All eyes were on me. The place became silent and the moment was intense. The three of us were connected and had become one unit. Their tight locked grip on my arms became stronger and stronger and more desperate. I couldn't get away from them as they continued to beg and beg. I used all my might to break away but I wasn't strong enough to break their grip. I began to panic a little.
I looked around and saw two police officer in the distance. But I wasn't going to call them. They were Chinese and the Chinese government looks for every opportunity to harass the Tibetans. If I yelled out for help, these women would pay too big a price. They could be beaten or arrested. And all they wanted to do it eat. And I couldn't give them any money at this point or I would have been mobbed by all of the other merchants who had dropped everything they were doing and now were watching to see if they had a potential opportunity to earn some money today.
The moment was tense. I never thought the women would harm me. But their desperation was so strong, they couldn't help themselves.
I decided to just wait it out. I stopped resisting. I continued to give a clear message of "no" and I hoped they would finally surrender to reality that I wasn't buying anything.
And then suddenly, they did surrender and I took off. I hurried back to my hotel as fast as I could, hyper-ventilating the whole time.
Facebook Post
A Message from John
On Social Media
March 16, 2011
I hadn't been retired a full year yet and one day, I had lots of time on my hands so I spent a few hours taking stupid quizzed on Facebook. At the time, I was unaware that a notice went on my wall every time I finished a quiz. So after a few hours, I looked pathetic to the general public. John sent me the message below:
