11.05.2009
10.03.2009
Why I Will Not Be Getting the Flu Shot
Go ahead, gasp: but I will not, repeat not be getting the flu shot. Nor the H1N1 shot. Nor whatever next shot comes down the pike to stave off a viral illness that I or any member of my family may or may not happen to get.
In fact, I find it hard to believe that I might be the only one just a little bit stunned at the sudden urgency behind this whole flu-shot thing. Yes, I know about swine flu. In fact, I'm told that the other day 31 kids in my children's elementary school were absent with what may be swine flu. I hear it's running around the local college campus. Yet I still maintain that running off to get an injection of thimerosol loaded with a virus is probably not going to do one single thing for my health.
It troubles me that these flu shots are being made available for pregnant women, when there is mounting evidence that mercury-based thimerosol correlates with autism in children. As a mother of an autistic child, I really wouldn't dick with that. It troubles me that we're rushing to stick millions of people with a fresh-off-the-shelves vaccine that hasn't been around long enough to know potential long-term effects. It troubles me that we're vaccinating for a virus, when every eight-grader knows that viruses mutate. It troubles me that many of the people who get a flu shot seem to come down with the flu. And it troubles me that there is a growing community consensus that to refuse vaccination is irresponsible.
I'd like to suggest that there is another way to fight the flu: your immune system. Our family plan? Pro-active amounts of rest, fresh air, vitamins and fluids. I will be using the BodyTalk Access technique set liberally to keep our bodies balanced and our immune systems strong. And if any of us gets sick, then we'll ride it out. Like people do.
So if you too are refusing the flu shot, know you're not alone. There's at least one other renegade out there, taking on the virus straight-up. Vitamin C, anyone?
In fact, I find it hard to believe that I might be the only one just a little bit stunned at the sudden urgency behind this whole flu-shot thing. Yes, I know about swine flu. In fact, I'm told that the other day 31 kids in my children's elementary school were absent with what may be swine flu. I hear it's running around the local college campus. Yet I still maintain that running off to get an injection of thimerosol loaded with a virus is probably not going to do one single thing for my health.
It troubles me that these flu shots are being made available for pregnant women, when there is mounting evidence that mercury-based thimerosol correlates with autism in children. As a mother of an autistic child, I really wouldn't dick with that. It troubles me that we're rushing to stick millions of people with a fresh-off-the-shelves vaccine that hasn't been around long enough to know potential long-term effects. It troubles me that we're vaccinating for a virus, when every eight-grader knows that viruses mutate. It troubles me that many of the people who get a flu shot seem to come down with the flu. And it troubles me that there is a growing community consensus that to refuse vaccination is irresponsible.
I'd like to suggest that there is another way to fight the flu: your immune system. Our family plan? Pro-active amounts of rest, fresh air, vitamins and fluids. I will be using the BodyTalk Access technique set liberally to keep our bodies balanced and our immune systems strong. And if any of us gets sick, then we'll ride it out. Like people do.
So if you too are refusing the flu shot, know you're not alone. There's at least one other renegade out there, taking on the virus straight-up. Vitamin C, anyone?
10.01.2009
Facebook: Neither a Face nor a Book
Last night I decided to peruse my somewhat humble Facebook friends list and take stock of my collection. Like most Facebook users, from what I can tell, my friends list is an oddball collection of actual friends--that is, people I see or talk to regularly to share a laugh; old friends who have long since fallen off the map; bona fide acquaintances; and actual strangers I wouldn't know if I hit them with my car.
How is this friendship, again? I did a little stalking on a few of my "friends". One is engaged. I only know this because of a wall comment that said "heard you're engaged!" and a status of Engaged in the sidebar. Another actually got married, here in town, and I never heard a peep. An old friend has two kids, I learned yesterday (in fairness, he just joined Facebook, not that I would have been invited to a baby shower in any case). My "friends" have moved, changed names, changed jobs and been through many life experiences, but I only know about any of it because of wall posts and profile pictures.
So Facebook is not a face. Because when you see a friend's face, you know what's happening with her--in the moment and in general. You care. You ask. You make her a handmade card and put it under her windshield wiper. You don't just hit an icon of a thumbs-up to say congratulations on the new job; you actually congratulate her.
Nor is Facebook a book. Books are, by their very nature, in-depth investigations of a subject. In a book, you really get to know what the author has spent so much time thinking about and sharing with you. Facebook is a medley collection of tidbits that make no distinction between major affairs of life ("been away from the computer dad just had a stroke") and trifles ("Joe Blow has completed 17 quizzes today. Take this quiz!").
And I won't even mention the travesty of punctuation and grammar.
I admit it's neat to hear from old friends. Facebook has allowed me to reconnect with a few people and share some nifty emails. Also, I like being able to share what's going on locally as far as events, art openings and so on. I don't think Facebook is evil or anything; I just think that it's a poor substitute for real friendship. It really doesn't matter how many little pictures you have on your list. It matters if you have honest people you can talk to about matters of common interest. Really.
Now who wants to friend me on Facebook?
How is this friendship, again? I did a little stalking on a few of my "friends". One is engaged. I only know this because of a wall comment that said "heard you're engaged!" and a status of Engaged in the sidebar. Another actually got married, here in town, and I never heard a peep. An old friend has two kids, I learned yesterday (in fairness, he just joined Facebook, not that I would have been invited to a baby shower in any case). My "friends" have moved, changed names, changed jobs and been through many life experiences, but I only know about any of it because of wall posts and profile pictures.
So Facebook is not a face. Because when you see a friend's face, you know what's happening with her--in the moment and in general. You care. You ask. You make her a handmade card and put it under her windshield wiper. You don't just hit an icon of a thumbs-up to say congratulations on the new job; you actually congratulate her.
Nor is Facebook a book. Books are, by their very nature, in-depth investigations of a subject. In a book, you really get to know what the author has spent so much time thinking about and sharing with you. Facebook is a medley collection of tidbits that make no distinction between major affairs of life ("been away from the computer dad just had a stroke") and trifles ("Joe Blow has completed 17 quizzes today. Take this quiz!").
And I won't even mention the travesty of punctuation and grammar.
I admit it's neat to hear from old friends. Facebook has allowed me to reconnect with a few people and share some nifty emails. Also, I like being able to share what's going on locally as far as events, art openings and so on. I don't think Facebook is evil or anything; I just think that it's a poor substitute for real friendship. It really doesn't matter how many little pictures you have on your list. It matters if you have honest people you can talk to about matters of common interest. Really.
Now who wants to friend me on Facebook?
8.17.2009
48 Continental States
This past week, while road-tripping with Sarah, I finally managed to complete one of the longer-term projects of my life. By swinging through the northwest corner of Nebraska (pleasantly hilly, I'm happy to report) I can now say I have been to every state in the continental U.S.
As you can see by the pictures, there's a reason I keep going out on road trips. This country kicks ass. Even in Nebraska. I just can't get over the fact that in this particular day and age, I can just hop into a car and cruise all over this incredible landscape. If you haven't gotten in your car recently and gone beyond the grocery store, then I recommend you do. There are wonders and miracles around every freakin bend. Seriously. Make sure you take your camera.
8.04.2009
The 80/20 Rule
I have been reading Tim Ferriss' high-intensity book The Four-Hour Workweek and one tidbit that has stuck with me is his exploration of the 80/20 rule.
This rule states that in any given situation, 20 percent pulls more weight than the other 80. In an average work day you'll be productive 20 percent of the time, and screw around the rest of it. Most of the benefits of an exercise program will come from 20 percent of your effort. And around the house, you can bet that 20 percent of your stuff is actually important, and the rest of it is dross.
This has me thinking. Sarah has been working on the 100 Things Project--trying to winnow her total possessions down to 100 items. Yeah, right. At rough count, I'd say I personally own one thousand items, especially counting the CDs and the books, and I'm not in a hurry to divest myself of any of them. But are they important items, or are they draining me of my life energy?
Then there's my work day, which is, to be generous, about as organized as an dyslexic file clerk on crack. I don't even have a work day. I have a schedule that I have to keep in pencil and which gets erased and re-worked until the pages wear thin. Talk about misused energy. If I count scheduling, phone calls, obsessive email-checking and financial fretting as work hours, then the 80/20 rule is holding strong. How much of my life am I frittering away again?
When I hold up this same rule to my spare time (waaaaay too much TV), my internet habits (do I really need to check Swap-Bot every day?), and my dietary choices (cheeseburger and fries vs. garden salad), I begin to see a theme.
It may be time to cut the fat, as Tim says. And not just the cheeseburgers, either.
This rule states that in any given situation, 20 percent pulls more weight than the other 80. In an average work day you'll be productive 20 percent of the time, and screw around the rest of it. Most of the benefits of an exercise program will come from 20 percent of your effort. And around the house, you can bet that 20 percent of your stuff is actually important, and the rest of it is dross.
This has me thinking. Sarah has been working on the 100 Things Project--trying to winnow her total possessions down to 100 items. Yeah, right. At rough count, I'd say I personally own one thousand items, especially counting the CDs and the books, and I'm not in a hurry to divest myself of any of them. But are they important items, or are they draining me of my life energy?
Then there's my work day, which is, to be generous, about as organized as an dyslexic file clerk on crack. I don't even have a work day. I have a schedule that I have to keep in pencil and which gets erased and re-worked until the pages wear thin. Talk about misused energy. If I count scheduling, phone calls, obsessive email-checking and financial fretting as work hours, then the 80/20 rule is holding strong. How much of my life am I frittering away again?
When I hold up this same rule to my spare time (waaaaay too much TV), my internet habits (do I really need to check Swap-Bot every day?), and my dietary choices (cheeseburger and fries vs. garden salad), I begin to see a theme.
It may be time to cut the fat, as Tim says. And not just the cheeseburgers, either.
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