That Smell

Can't you smell that smell?

The smell of a stinky, rotten editorial by our local rag?

I sure can. And I think the whole crossroads area can, too.

Quick, before it's too late....go here for the editorial, and check out the reader's input before it all disappears, and commenting becomes disabled, as the VicAd is known to do.

I have never witnessed a newspaper that would not support its town's institutes of higher learning. Of course, I don't expect the editorial staff to agree with everything UH-V does, but to show such an appalling lack of support is beyond the pale.

Anyway, I voiced my opinion and was promptly deleted. But, see, I WENT to UH-V and am one of their proud alumni, so I'm smart enough to have saved the comment so that it could live in eternity here on my blog because I KNEW it would be gone in a moment's time. So here it is:


How disappointing to read an editorial opinion that does not support a local university, U of H, with a VERY good extension of same right here in Victoria. Oh, and nevermind UH-V has been here in Victoria, turning out THOUSANDS of educated graduates who have gone on to the medical, engineering, chemical, education, and so many other varied fields to lend their talents back to their hometowns.

Does the VicAd staff really not understand this? Do they not see that UH-V has actually been here LONGER than most of the editorial staff themselves, nevermind the cub reporters who were not even BORN when UH-V established itself so long ago? Where were these "editorial staff" and "journalists" when UH-V worked so hard over the years to educate and contribute to this community? Oh....that's right, they were in Ohio, Kansas, Illinois....

Why don't you consider for a moment that your and a certain commission's push to get UH-V out of this community just looks like a lot of strangers who were not even born and raised in this state who now think they know what is best for Victoria and its surrounding towns? What sort of power do you really think you hold?

U of H, and UH-V has been here much longer than you, has contributed more than you, has intertwined with these citizens' lives much more than you ever have or ever will.

I really don't think this comment deserved to be removed, but the VicAd thought differently. How very sad.

In keeping with the season, all I can say is, and I quote:

STINK!

STANK!

STUNK!

The Year of Dying Dangerously

The recent posthumous pardon of Jim Morrison for his "lewd acts" in Miami, in addition to an email from a dear friend, has sent my mind on a journey that I haven't been on in some time. Some of the most talented rock stars, the ones we lost so prematurely, seem to have a grim statistic in common: dead at the age of 27.

Jim Morrison.

Janis Joplin.

Jimi Hendrix.

Kurt Cobain.

Their music, and my memories, have been swirling in mind the past few days. An odd, and sad, soundtrack underlying my flashbacks to MY 27th year. I died my own sort of death that year, with a crisis the likes of which I have never experienced before or since. The miracle of one singer, of one CD, pulled me through. And luckily, she is not yet dead. Alanis Morissette has passed her 27th year, as have I, and we are not statistics. Her "Jagged Little Pill" album single-handedly, slowly, pulled me out of my 27th-year haze and into the future. And, yes, I doubled up on the Alanis just because she and her music mean so much to me.

Because these artists have contributed so much to my life story, I offer here two performances by each that touch me and haunt me the most. I hope you like them. I will never forget.

No.....

I haven't dropped off the face of the earth. Much too busy for that. In fact, if I stay this busy always, the way I figure it, I won't have time to die either. Wouldn't that be nice?

We are slowly transitioning between fall and Christmas. The front of the house looks kind of funky, what with Santa Claus and two snowmen sharing our brick ledge along with still remarkably preserved pumpkins and gourds. The fall wreaths are still hanging on the doors, while a poinsettia garland drapes our front door. Pretty split-personality, actually. But little by little, we will get there.

The tree base is in the living room, just waiting for the tree to be put in it as it is every year, and so I must remind myself to put away the pilgrim figurine and scarecrow candle holder soon.

Has anyone felt as disjointed as I feel this holiday? Does anyone experience this duality of decorations, this schizophrenic seasonal malady which I seem to be going through?

At least dad is still bringing over the totes containing Christmas decor from his garage. He is really taking the lead this year trying to get things up such as lights. I get the feeling he is more excited about Christmas this year than I am. And that's a good thing. I'm glad to see him in the groove.

But I swear, if I hear "White Christmas" one more time........

Thanks!

Just wanted to repost this past blog of mine; I can't say it any better than I already have. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

For all your readership this year and in years past.

For an opportunity to entertain, enlighten, confound, astound, and tickle you.

For the circle of friends I have made through the blogging world. You know who you are.

For the warmth you have shown me and my family.

For the good times.

For the bad times.

For all time.

Forever. I am most grateful.

She once was lost, but now she's found

This blog was originally written November 26, 2007. Now that it has been almost three years, there are developments in this case and so many others that bear revisiting.

The remains of this precious baby have indeed been identified as Riley Ann Sawyers, and both her mother and stepfather have been convicted of murder and are serving life sentences. The island where her tiny body washed ashore has been renamed "Riley's Island".

Remains in North Carolina have been identified as Zahra Baker, a precious ten-year old murdered, after having battled loss of a leg to cancer and hearing loss.

Beautiful, innocent four-year old Emma Thompson died a horrible death, having been sexually assaulted, infected with genital Herpes by her mother's boyfriend, being beaten and abused, suffering a lacerated pancreas and a fractured skull. Her killer got life in prison, while her mother was sentenced to twenty years for failure to protect her child.

Teketria Buggs, or "Teeky Bug", as she was affectionately known, was only twelve when she was stabbed to death and dumped in the Brazos river by her stepfather.

I will not give the names of the perpetrators of these unimaginable crimes here; they DO NOT MATTER. The victims matter. The murderers do not deserve any more press. These beautiful, precious innocent children are only a fraction of those who are killed every day by the people they trusted with their lives. Baby Grace is just one of them, and I chose to tell her story long ago because she touched my and so many other's heart. She still does. There are too many victims to even begin to list, but I hope they know they are never forgotten. I still believe they must be in Heaven, if there is one. There must be for these children. The alternative is unthinkable, for they have already experienced hell here on Earth.

Baby Grace now has a name - Riley Ann Sawyers. The beaten body of a precious 2-year old girl found just off a desolate island in Galveston Bay has been tentatively identified, pending final DNA results, as Riley Ann Sawyers from Spring, Texas. Her mother and boyfriend have confessed to her torture and murder, according to the latest news release. If you can stomach it, go here for the rest of the latest news update.

This baby will not see another Christmas, another birthday, nor another nightmare perpetrated upon her by those she most trusted and likely loved with all her young heart. As a late Thanksgiving prayer, I give thanks to the dedicated law enforcement personnel and talented forensic sketch artist that made possible the tip that apparently came from Riley's grandmother in Ohio who identified these sketches as her granddaughter.

God be with the family members who will no longer have Riley in their lives, to hold, to cherish, to protect as she deserved to be. While little Riley is surely in a better place now, I cannot imagine a Hell that is, well, Hellish enough for the mother and her boyfriend, if this is truly of their doing (although it doesn't get much more watertight than a confession).

The Texas-based search team, Equusearch, vowed to help in the identification and swift justice needed in this case, as they have in so many others. A member of Equusearch crafted a cross by hand, and placed it in the spot where Baby Grace was found. He said that he looked forward to engraving the cross with her real name, once known, and was optimistic that would soon be forthcoming. He was right. Now her real name can be put on that cross that marked the end of her journey in a watery grave.

This story has touched so many people, on such a large scale, that I hope some good comes out of it. If just one mother gives an extra hug to her child tonight, if one life is saved by someone who recognizes themselves or someone they love in similar circumstances and acts to stop the violence and suffering, then Riley's undeserved and untimely end will not have been in vain.

If you choose to view this video of "Amazing Grace" by the incomparable Mahalia Jackson, as I hope you will, I hope you will also say a little prayer for Riley. This is the song that says it all, and I will forevermore think of Baby Grace when I hear it now. I know that she is in Heaven singing with the angels now, and how sweet the sound. God rest her soul.