FRIDAY FROTH...

If you’re looking for a decadent read...The Post Birthday World, by Lionel Shriver, may not be a twinkie as much as an oatmeal cookie (with lots and lots of chocolate chips and walnuts)-- it's sinful, but not completely void of "nutritional" value. The first chapter introduces an expat couple living in London. He’s a Columbia educated PhD working for a think tank and she illustrates children’s books. Their evenings are like their lives: routine. They have dinner, then watch T.V. and eat popcorn. The spice in their relationship comes, literally, from the exotic spices they use to flavor their popcorn and, from a once-a-year dinner that she and her husband have with a charming and reckless snooker player, Ramsey, on Ramsey's birthday. With her partner “think tanking” in Russia, she finds herself alone with Ramsey for one of the birthday celebrations--she has a little too much wine at dinner and goes back to the Snooker player’s house for a game. One thing leads to another and a kiss is eminent—end of chapter one. Every subsequent chapter has two versions—one tells the story of what happens if she excuses herself and goes to the loo, and the other tells the story as if she kissed him. It’s a bit of a Rorschach test so be careful!

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Other than a New York Times article a couple of weeks ago, John Edwards name has been noticeably out of the news, given a federal grand jury is investigating whether or not he is guilty of using campaign funds to conceal his extramarital affair with Rielle Hunter. It has been reported that Mr. Edwards paid a top staffer to claim paternity for the child that was the result of his transgression. Ms. Hunter flaunted the child at her grand jury appearance on August 6. It takes two to tango and both dancers should pay the price for dancing. Mr. Edwards will most likely pay the ultimate price, which for him (and most politicians) means becoming inconsequential. As evidenced by my opening statement in this paragraph--no one cares about John Edwards anymore. But what of Ms. Hunter? I think her picture should be plastered in Starbucks across the nation. Like O.J. Simpson, you should know that if you get involved with her, things could go seriously wrong!

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I’m assuming that you have your jack-o-lanterns carved and your spider webs hung, but do you have your Halloween candy bought? I have done a little research and have come up with a top ten list of favorite Halloween candy: Tootsie Rolls, Hershey’s Milk Chocolate, Nestle Crunch, Nerds, Hot Tamales, Candy Corn, Snickers, Baby Ruth, Reese’s Pieces, and my favorite, Almond Joy. Or, if you are watching your waistline, you can just stay home with a scary movie and a handsome/beautiful vampire and eat face!

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U. S. News and World Report recently had an article on “10 Tips for Living to 100”. If you are feeling like this might be fun then here you go:

1. DON'T RETIRE—Duh! Can anyone retire now?

2. FLOSS EVERY DAY—This has less to do with keeping your teeth so that you can eat, as it does with bacteria that cause cardiovascular problems—I’m serious!

3. MOVE AROUND—Yes, exercise is the only fountain of youth—do it, and do it every day.

4. EAT A FIBRE RICH CEREAL FOR BREAKFAST—I’m not necessarily hungry the first hour I’m awake but I make myself eat a little cereal with yogurt and berries and I drink a big glass of water—it’s a great way to get your metabolism started. The cereal I eat is like eating tree bark but I just keep thinking about the big latte that I’m going to treat myself with mid-morning.

5. GET AT LEAST SIX HOURS OF SLEEP—not a problem for me, I LOVE to sleep! I have a beautiful and comfortable bed, the best sheets and blankets that money can buy (this is NOT something to skimp on!), a chocolate brown bedroom that is like a cocoon and a really good snuggle partner—what’s not to love? I am so good at this that I may live to be 125!

6. CONSUME WHOLE FOODS, NOT SUPPLEMENTS—I say do both, just in case.

7. BE LESS NEUROTIC—As a rule, southern women are not neurotic so this is not a problem for me. If you however, are more Woody Allen than Daisy Mae, refer back to number three.

8. BE A CREATURE OF HABIT—They say people that live by strict routines, eating the same kind of diet and doing the same kinds of activities their whole lives live longer. I say, boring. I’ll settle for living to 97.

9. LIVE LIKE A SEVENTH-DAY ADVENTIST—These people live, on average, ten years longer than the average American—they don’t drink alcohol, smoke, or eat a lot of sweats. WHAT! Do we really want to live to 100—maybe not?

10. STAY CONNECTED—You can have great wealth or incredible power, but we all know that it comes down to friends and family—case closed.

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I may have found the perfect job for me! On a long flight from the east coast, I had a conversation with my seatmate, a Broadway actress. Like a lot of actresses, she has to make ends meet with other jobs. She told me that recently she has been doing “foot fetish” jobs. Men pay her from $150 an hour, to $1500 for an evening, to rub her feet. I asked to see her feet! They were normal, everyday feet, so I felt inclined to ask her if her clients rubbed anything else. They don’t go above the ankle she told me. Still not believing how great this sounded, I asked if the men kept both of their hands on her feet the whole time or did they maybe need one of their hands for, you know, themselves. She assured me that both hands were on her feet, and feet only, the whole time. I asked if she could sign me up! Imagine, someone pays you to rub your feet, AND, you get to expense pedicures, Manolos, and Louboutins! I ask you, does it get any better?

HEALTH-CARE PART 2

A couple of Tuesdays ago I wrote on palliative care—the palliative care that people need at the end of their lives to help them die with dignity. This week--another kind of palliative care.

Palliative is defined as: relieving pain or alleviating a problem without dealing with the underlying cause. I’ve always thought of palliative like a band-aide of sorts; it covers what we don’t want to see, while we wait for it to go away. The biggest (pardon the pun here) palliative problem in America is not end-of-life care—it’s obesity.

The San Francisco Chronicle recently reported that one-third of American children and adolescents are obese or overweight. Most people know that obesity causes cardiovascular disease, diabetes, contributes to many cancers, including breast and colon, and exacerbates joint problems. Yet, we continue with our unhealthy eating habits and allow our kids to do the same; we see our doctors and use medicine to treat the symptoms, while ignoring the cause. We want to eat our cake and have it too. In this case, the cake is probably fast food and sugary sodas, and having it too is still wanting to be slim and healthy. This is America—why can’t we have it all?

Time magazine reported that as a nation we are spending more than 147 billion dollars a year on diet-related illness. Yet, how many politicians have you heard talking about the cost of obesity on the health-care system? Politicians like telling people what they want to hear and people do not like to hear that they are fat. At some point, politicians are going to have to start telling people some hard truths. Warning: this will not be the last time you see the previous statement in this blog!

I recently attended a dinner party with Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore’s Dilemma. Mr. Pollan has done extensive research on what we eat and how food gets from its sources in nature to our plates--he is a proponent of local and sustainable eating. There was good discussion on why Americans are overweight and what we should do about it. I took away these salient points from the evening: Policy is needed to help get America’s obesity problem under control, whether it be redirecting farm subsidies toward more healthy foods, or putting a tax on sugary drinks. We need to limit the number of sugary sodas we consume. And, we need to cook—Mr. Pollan stressed that almost anything we cook at home is healthier than fast food.

I would like to focus on the relationship between sodas, obesity and health-care.

The soda companies are, I’m sure, encouraging politicians to leave sodas out of the health-care conversation. They are also running ads that assume that we are all incredibly stupid. Have you seen the one with the mom getting her bags with several liters of soda out of her mini-van? She tells the camera that money is tight. She warns Washington to not put a tax on soda. Some very brave politician (is this an oxymoron?) needs to call a press conference, look into the camera and explain to this mom, and moms across the country: Yes, I know that money is tight and I think I can help you. Turn on the water facet—it’s easy, it’s non-caloric, it’s healthy, it’s safe, and it will save you money. Yes, I know that your kids will object, but you are the mom and you love them, and you want them to be healthy.

Did you know that a twelve-ounce can of soda has approximately 10 teaspoons of sugar? Can you imagine putting 10 packets of sugar in your tall latte (the smallest size at Starbucks and also 12 ounces)? If you need more reasons to limit soda intake, then you should know that they are also very acidic and hard on tooth enamel, and the phosphorus that causes them to fizz also causes calcium to be leeched from bones.

I don’t think that the government is responsible for keeping us healthy. However, because obesity is a burden on our health-care dollars (this affects our premiums), because sugar is so closely associated with obesity, and because soda has no nutritional benefits, it should have a sugar tax like cigarettes have a tobacco tax, and the tax should go directly to off-set health-care costs.

Politicians need to make some hard choices on health-care; a tax on sugary drinks would be a good place to start.

FRIDAY FROTH...

Dear Mr. Krugman:

I saw you on the Bill Maher show last week with director, John Waters and scandal-plagued politician, Eliot Spitzer. I don’t remember what you were talking about because I was so distracted by you dropping the F-bomb! Bill Maher uses this word so often that it’s not even effective—it disappears into the background like his pale skin and colorless hair. Jon Waters is a very cool movie director and everyone knows that cool movie directors use the F-word as effortlessly as they do cut and action. I’ m betting Mr. Spitzer got a feel for the four letter version of “oh my god I can’t believe I got caught” when he found out about the wiretaps linking him to a prostitution ring. But need I remind you Mr. Krugman, that you graduated from Yale, got a Ph.D. from M.I.T., and you teach at my favorite Ivy League institution, Princeton. Your biography on the New York Times website says that you have written or edited more than 20 books and 200 papers—you should know a lot of words, you don’t need to use the f-word. Not to mention, you are a Nobel Prize winner! You dropping the F-bomb is like George Clooney showing up at your door in polyester pants and having bad breath. Mr. Krugman, I don’t always agree with you; you are a Keynesian economist—I’m more of a supply-side girl, nevertheless, I read your erudite columns loyally. So please, put back on your tweed sport coat, comb your grizzled but distinguished hair and don’t let this kind of thing happen again.

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I love fall. The weather is good and so are the movies. Drew Barrymore’s directorial debut, Whip It, is perfect fare for fall—it’s well written with characters that are less than perfect looking, doing things that are interesting—not clichéd. You don’t have to like roller derby to enjoy this film as it’s more about finding your dream than knocking an opposing skater off course. The real beauty of this film is that the dreams are simple dreams---the ones that can come true for a lot of us. If you grew up it a small Southern town where beauty pageants and football rule, you will relate to this film. Take note of Marcia Gay Harden’s performance—Oscar nod? Maybe!

If you are in the mood to see bigger dreams come true, go see Coco before Chanel. French actress, Audrey Tautou, does a beautiful job portraying a young and determined Coco. The movie starts as a nine year-old Coco and her sister are being dropped off at an orphanage and ends with Coco presiding over her first couture show. Ms Tautou’s dance between gritty independence and manipulative charm brings Coco to life.

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Every few days I log on to my friend, Mary Doan’s blog, A Plethora of Postcards. Mary has been collecting postcards, sent to her by friends or to herself, for over 30 years. I am either reminded of places that I have been, or introduced to places that I want to go. A few weeks ago Mary featured a postcard from Norfork Dam in Arkansas. I grew up water-skiing on Norfork Lake and have great memories of the “big dam”. This week she had a postcard showing a cyclo in old-town Hanoi. I immediately remembered squeezing both of my kids in one of these pedicabs with me (in 100 degree heat!) in the summer of 2001 and riding through Old-Town where the streets are named, appropriately, by the items which are sold there. On Shoe Street all of the shops sell—you guessed it—shoes, and the sidewalks are lined with a superfluity of footwear of every kind. The very tiny shops have very few wares inside; they don’t always have electricity and they need the sunlight for people to be able to see what they are buying. If you are shopping for a destination or just want to dream of getting away, check out Mary’s blog: www.apleathoraofpostcards@blogspot.com

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The Supreme Court has just started their October session. They heard arguments this week of a man convicted of selling videos of dog fighting and other animal cruelty. The man was not involved in the animal cruelty, he only sold videos of it. It seems the man is protected under the First Amendment, which, rightly so, has few exceptions--obscenity and child pornography are two of these exceptions. The court will be reluctant to mess with the First Amendment but I ask you: Is it not obscene to watch videos of women trampling to death small dogs and other animals with their bare feet or high heels? Yes, it’s seems that this is a sexual fetish du jour. This is the way I see it: Like children, dogs and other animals cannot advocate for themselves. Dogs are especially vulnerable; we have domesticated these animals--inviting them to live in our homes and depend on us for food. Like children, they deserve our protection. Let’s hope that the Supreme Court does the right thing.

HEALTH-CARE: PART ONE

I have been attempting to write about health-care for weeks. As the debate has raged, I have made an effort to read, listen, study, and question the myriad intricacies of this polarizing subject. I was overwhelmed! Therefore, for the next few Tuesdays this blog will explore health-care bit-by-bit. My approach is to deliver to you—simply and succinctly—ideas on how, I believe, health-care can be improved. I welcome your feedback.

Today: Palliative Care

If you were paying attention to the health-care debate this summer, the words palliative care probably ring a bell. The house bill addressed palliative care, and it needs to be addressed. Sadly, and wrongly, Sarah Palin tweeted that this would create death-panels that would choose whether ill people should live or die.

A disproportionate amount of health-care dollars are spent during the last year of life—this simply needs to change. I have encountered numerous stories of how expensive test and useless x-rays are ordered for patients, that save a miracle, will be dead in a matter of weeks, maybe months. The following link is to a story of an oncology nurse's view inside the trenches of what’s happening with end-of-life care, and why it should change. The story takes about three minutes to read and is very insightful.

http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/09/09/prolonging-death-at-the-end-of-life/?scp=3&sq=cost of palliative care&st=cse

President Obama explained in his nationally televised health-care speech, and I paraphrase: Palliative care is not about death panels; it’s about insurance providing funds so that families can sit down with doctors to talk about options for terminally ill loved ones. I agree that money is better spent to inform families of the options for dying loved ones than throwing money on delaying the inevitable. However, regular doctors and nurses are not always the best people for this job—they’ve been trained to do everything in their power to save lives; helping families let go is counter to this training. Palliative doctors are trained in medicine, but also in hospice care and even spiritual care. As the baby-boomer population ages, this relatively new discipline should be in demand.

As I was ready to post this story, I got an email from a friend who was at the hospital with his dad who has been fighting lung cancer. My friend was faced with the excruciating ordeal of deciding on breathing and feeding help for his dad to prolong his life a few days or weeks, or making him comfortable with drugs, in which case he was looking at a couple of hours, or maybe a couple of days.

I know that if my son or daughter were lying in a hospital bed and I was faced with this decision, I would be so tempted to prolong the inevitable; even if it was just so that I could watch their chest rise and fall.

Palliative care is not about “death panels”. While the dollars and cents of keeping people alive needs to be addressed, make no mistake, the biggest cost is the emotional one.

FRIDAY FROTH...

If you are an aspiring filmmaker, a film buff, or just interested in finding a movie to see this weekend, then you have to check out MakingOf.com. This website was started by my friend, producer, Christine Alyward and actress Natalie Portman. Ms. Portman was inspired to give outsiders, an insider’s view of movie making by her very interested and enthusiastic friends visiting her on movie sets. Being a producer, Ms. Alyward has a love for the craft of filmmaking and an understanding of the need for more information to help fledgling artist. The site has tips from working experts on all aspects of movie making, as well as movie clips, interviews, photo galleries, and much more. It’s a well designed website with tons of FUN information—check it out!

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It’s inexcusable that republican gubernatorial candidate, Meg Whitman didn’t vote for years—surprisingly, those are her words, not mine. Ms. Whitman stated her reasons for not voting: working, raising a family, supporting her husband’s career and moving many times, but didn’t try to make excuses. She also said that going to work at eBay and seeing how government regulations hurt small businesses inspired her to get involved in politics. How refreshing to hear a politician take responsibility for their actions--I think I could vote for her on this alone!

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I love driving my daughter to school in the morning, even if she doesn’t talk to me. We listen to the radio together as our form of communication. This week some DJ’s were talking about a just released poll that named the countries that produced the best and worst male lovers. I yelled “earmuffs” to my daughter. She used to cover her ears when I did this, but now, at 15 and 2/3, she just rolls her eyes. And now for the results: Drum roll please… German men were voted the worst lovers; English men came in second worst; and those handsome, but from the poll reports, too quick Swedes, came in third. It probably won’t surprise anyone that Spanish men, Brazilian men and then Italian men came in as best lovers. If you want to comment please know that there is an anonymous option for your privacy!

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The very controversial PATRIOT ACT is reported to be what led to the arrest of Najibullah Zazi, the man who allegedly planned to attack New York’s subway system. Counterterrorism experts say that this is the most serious terror plot since 9/11. I say we suck it up and let the government listen in on our phone calls and read our emails instead of sending more troops and money to Afghanistan. I have a great appreciation for civil liberties but even more so for safety. Maybe this is a war that has to be fought at home. And now for the part you are going to really hate: Anyone who rides the New York subways owes George Bush a thank you.

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Bright Star is poetry in motion. Jane Campion wrote and directed this wildly romantic film that tells the story of English poet, John Keats and his love affair with the girl next door. Fanny is literally the girl next-door, yet anything but that figuratively. Fanny is outspoken and interested in fashion design--a modern woman living in Victorian times. She is drawn in contrast not only to her peers, but to Keats and his fanciful, yet tortured existence. A beautiful job by Ms. Campion on both the writing and directing fronts--cheers!