Tuesday, July 14, 2026

Web Log for 7.13.26

Not a lot of online time today...

Music 

Randy Newman.


Sports 

Someone shared a video of the "historic" (in terms of tennis) tie-breaker match between Bjorn Borg and John McEnroe. What caught my attention was how tired both then-young men were when they started this game. If you saw people looking and moving like that on a job, you'd say "Go home." By the time Borg won, each had taken a fall, and both were playing like zombies. 

Book Review: Hour of Gold Hour of Lead

Title: Hour of Gold Hour of Lead

Author: Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Date: 1973

Publisher: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich

ISBN: none

Length: 323 pages with index

Illustrations: four black-and-white photo inserts

Quote: “I was warned by my husband-to-be...‘nver write anything you wuld mind seeing on the front page of a news­paper.’..I stopped writing in my diary completely for three years.”

The “hour of gold” in this book is what Mrs. Lindbergh wrote about her life during those three years. As a result, the first section of her memoir, the happy bit, is sketchy, patchy, and not much fun to read; it consists of letters that were preserved by friends and relatives, but the letters were kept as short and cryptic as possible. She was a minor celebrity in her own right, married to a major one. Although it was well known that both of the glamorous couple liked their privacy, they were hounded by reporters, fans, and weirdos wherever they went. The photo sections show that they were too good-looking, in too conspicuous a way, to get far incognito.

The second section comes from the “hour of lead,” in which Mrs. Lindbergh resumed keeping a diary to vent the anguish she felt when her first child, Charles Junior, was kidnapped. A few older people still remember how the newspapers publicized the Lindberghs’ effort to raise ransom money, only to discover that Junior had been dead all along.

In the third section, after the long crisis period, Mrs. Lindbergh seems to have felt that she reached a degree of healing. Since we’re still reading letters and diaries that were written at the time, this resolution is not as obvious as a more psychotherapy-oriented book might have tried to make it. What may be most important, for any reader who might have lost a family member, is what Mrs. Lindbergh seems never to have needed to say in so many words: the Lindberghs didn’t blame each other for the tragedy. They grieved. Sometimes they isolated themselves, apparently by mutual consent, and sometimes they tried to be nice to each other. They believed that marriage was for life. In some ways they seem to have grown closer together; among other things Charles Lindbergh seems to have resigned himself, although this isn’t spelled out in so many words either, to the fact that he’d married a writer, who was going to write, and write about him, and if he wanted any privacy he’d better keep her manuscripts well guarded rather than trying to discourage her writing.

They were Christians, in a modest and unobtrusive way, but this third section is not the religious story some readers might have hoped for. There is a rather derisive reference to the kind of people who were saying that of course God had been holding up the planes, earlier in the book. Mrs. Lindbergh refers vaguely to a “Christian belief in immortality, in rebirth,” which aren’t the biblical words and which now suggest Pagan beliefs more than Christian ones, but she was not a theologian—or even a Bible maven—and probably we do know what she meant; in 1932 relatively few Neo-Pagans were using “rebirth” to mean “reincarnation,” and likewise relatively few fundamentalists were asking churchgoers whether they had been Born Again. What is specifically described in this “healing” section are temporal kinds of love. Charles Lindbergh was “marvelous.” Having the rest of the family still alive, in another day’s entry Mrs. Lindbergh reports someone tactlessly saying to her, “But you are happy,” then lists her living relatives, friends, and in-laws and concludes, “Yes, I am happy.” By the end of the book there’s another baby. 

This book is recommended to anyone interested in studying Mrs. Lindbergh as a writer, and to any bereaved persons who can tolerate the possibility that a simple day-by-day narration of someone else’s grief might sound even more appalling than whatever they’ve been going through.

Readers with depressive tendencies may need to be warned that, although Mrs. Lindbergh later remembered the last months of 1932 as the end of her time in the depths of grief, even on page 317 she’s still feeling “bitterly and passionately that I had lived too much in the past years.” The book ends on a hopeful note, with a friend who had seemed near death recovering enough to be married, but it stops short of the really happy times that lay ahead as the Lindberghs continued flying, writing about flying and about other things, and raising their other children.

If you’re depressive and doing research on the writer or her family, you need only slog through this book and on to the next volume—but it’s a long slog and I don’t currently have a copy of the next volume to offer. However, your library might still have one. 

Petfinder Post: Learning About the Brussels Griffon

Next on the list of dog breeds the British Busybodies don't approve is the Brussels Griffon. I never heard of such a thing. The dogs have been bred in the United States, and Petfinder has a category for them, but they're not normally found in shelters. Searching four pages yielded one listing for one dog. 


Derry from Dalton, Georgia...see below.

So what is a Brussels Griffon? The griffin, griffon, gryphon, etc., was an imaginary animal used in heraldry. It symbolized different qualities of the human character in the form of an animal with features of lion, eagle, and sometimes other things. A Brussels Griffon is a smallish dog with a "mane" of long hair--not around the neck like a lion's mane, but on the face like a man with a full beard. A closely related breed, sometimes called a smooth-coated Brussels Griffon and sometimes given fancier names, has short hair on the body; the Brussels Griffon is somewhat shaggy all over.


Photo from the American Brussels Griffon Association. To my eyes, this show-quality specimen is not attractive, but that's probably due to the way his coat's been clipped. 

Show-quality Brussels Griffons are up to 10 inches high at the shoulder and weigh up to 10 pounds. These cat-sized dogs live as long as cats; people adopting one need to plan on a life expectancy up to 15 years.

Show-quality Brussels Griffons come in four colors: black, reddish brown, black and reddish brown, or black and tan. The dogs are sometimes born light tan or "blue" gray all over. In that case they are not show-quality and might, like the individual we'll meet below, be sent to shelters.

They usually get along well with other dogs and children. Because of their small size, you may need to supervise to make sure the other dogs and/or children don't hurt the "Griffs." They tend to bond with one human and want to stay close to that person, even to the point of showing separation anxiety.

Some health problems run in the bloodlines of this breed. Potential adopters need to check for eye, heart, and joint disorders. Individuals who survive long enough to be adopted are usually healthy but, because of their long facial hair, their eyes and ears need attention. 

The long hair doesn't shed a great deal. The short-haired variety do shed, twice a year.

Although small dogs can get most of their exercise indoors, they do need at least a half-hour of exercise each day. Many Griffons like to chase and fetch balls. They are typically clever enough to compete in dog athletic events.

The breed can be described as easy to train, or difficult, depending on your approach. According to the American Kennel Club, starting early and understanding the dog's psychology are important. 

"
Griffs have a high degree of intelligence and bond strongly with their owners, which makes them easy to train. As with many toy breeds, though, housebreaking may take some extra time and effort. Griffons have a very sensitive nature, and they don't respond well to harsh corrections or training methods. A Griffon wants to be with his family, often following his person from room to room, and undesirable behaviors can result if he is regularly left alone for long periods of time.
"

And of course, because of their small size, you need to walk with them on a short leash whenever they're out where they could possibly run out into traffic. 

It's good to see so few Brussels Griffons up for adoption. In honor of this small breed this week's photo contest will focus on other small dogs and small cats. 

About small cats not much needs to be said. Almost all domestic cats we see today have been bred down to the small end of their species range. Their ancestors weighed about 30 pounds; they typically weigh 10 pounds, with slim, light-boned breeds like the Siamese often even smaller. Some cats weigh less than 10 pounds because of ill health. If you like small, thin cats (as I do) it's worth checking, before you adopt one, to find out what medical conditions may have contributed to their small size and which of them need treatment. A real featherweight cat, especially if just rescued from an alley, probably has multiple long-term parasite infections, treatment for which may be the cat's only chance of survival. A small, slim cat with solid little bones and wiry muscles usually has a good chance of living ten or fifteen years.

Zipcode 10101: Adrian from Puerto Rico via NYC 


Sato is a Puerto Rican word for a street dog, but Adrian was actually rescued from a small house where he was crowded together with about thirty other dogs. One of those pathetic "animal hoarders" who wants to adopt all the homeless animals on Earth even after the situation in the hoarder's house starts to seem worse, to everyone but the hoarder, than living in an alley would be. Somewhat shy and unaccustomed to what North Americans consider normal pet dog life, this 20-pound young adult dog is ready to move to a safe place with adequate amounts of space and attention.

Gardenia from NYC 


Thought to be three years old and healthy at just six pounds, Gardenia is described as friendly and respectful with other cats, snuggly, gentle, and lovable. 

Zipcode 20202: Dart from Amarillo by way of DC 


A stray dog called Buttons was rescued along with a litter of five puppies. Here are the others, Patch, Lace, Velvet, and Stitch, who are also up for adoption:


The best guess is that Buttons was some sort of mini-poodle and Shih Tzu or other shaggy lapdog mix, and the puppies' father was something a bit larger, possibly an Australian Shepherd. None of the pups is expected to grow over 30 pounds, though they might pass 20 pounds. The organization has a list of places where animals can be adopted. They have a long, though not altogether unreasonable, list of requirements for adopters. They might be control freaks. It's not unreasonable to want to see some indication that a dog is going to have an adequate home; I'd go ahead and send them flatphone photos of the fenced yard and a nice doghouse, porch, or basement space where the dog's crate will be parked, but that's NOT the same thing as showing strangers through the human family's actual home, which is something they deserve to be shamed for suggesting. 

Pablo from DC 


Pablo seems to be a healthy two-year-old tomcat who, for reasons unknown, has a healthy weight of just six pounds. He doesn't have much of a story. He is in a foster family; you can learn more about him by e-mailing his foster humans. 

Zipcode 30303: Derry from Dalton 


...makes it clear that poor little Derry has fallen into the hands of a virulent Humane Society gaggle of control freaks. You have to beg for a chance to meet her. They decide, based on your application pleas, whether they think you can live with her. They're not giving out any information about her to anyone they don't approve of. There's a distinct possibility that the lack of a story about this dog indicates that the Humane Society are aware of her having been petnapped by some US version of the Busybodies of Britain.

Feh. FEH. A glance at Derry's web page makes me want to breed dozens of Brussels Griffons and air-drop them over Georgia, although obviously that would not be an ethical course of action. You can, ethically, decide to adopt an alternative small dog, such as...

Alternate: Alfie from Atlanta 


This mini-poodle was found on the street, possibly dumped out because he had a skin infection. The infection cleared up with treatment, which included a short haircut. He has a smooth short silky coat now but he'll need frequent trims to stay that way. His hair will grow long, curly, and tangly if it's not clipped. Now this quiet, mellow, mature dog (they think he's about 13 years old, but mini-poodles can live up to 20 years) is ready to snuggle up on someone's couch and be a house pet again. The organization insists that he be adopted by someone in northern Georgia, only. The adoption fee is quite reasonable for a Poodle.

Ms. Tabby from Atlanta 


Not much information is available about Ms. Tabby except that she's a small healthy adult cat. 

Monday, July 13, 2026

Web Log for 7.12.26

Blog Hospitality 

So on Friday before last, I got to one of those "blog hop" posts in time to add a post here to the link-up. This only incurred a need to read about thirty other people's blogs. Not a problem. I opened all the tabs. Then the sun was down. Not a problem. I could read those blogs on Saturday night.

Except that on Saturday night nobody in the Point of Virginia had electricity. 

Electricity returned on Friday. By then I had cyberchores to do before I read those thirty blogs. But I left the tabs open.

Finally, this Saturday night, I got to the thirty blog posts. 

A couple of them were completely closed to comments.

About half of them had that Googlitch where Google, without bloggers' knowledge or consent, decides to block people's comments on one another's blogs as a way of whining for more cookies. Of course that's not going to get any more cookies onto the computer. 

One Blogspot blog included a message that comments were "open" on its Wordpress shadow blog. I clicked. Comments were NOT "open." 

I felt as if I'd wasted a lot of time and energy trying to post comments at blogs where nobody's being paid per comment any more, anyway, and nobody's interested in my comments, and that's just as well since the posts consisted mostly of pet photos and what's to say about them? I mean to say, some of these people took clear and clever photos of beautiful animals, but not all. "Nice photo" would not have been truthful in every case. 

Maybe the same thing is happening when people try to comment here. I don't know.

I know this. If you want me to comment on your blog, BE SURE "anonymous" comments are welcome. I'm not anonymous. How could you follow me back here and post a comment here if I were anonymous? I type in my name. But if the comment is blocked in any way, I feel unwanted at that blog and will probably never go back. I won't blame you--you're not a public figure, maybe you want only relatives to read your blog--but as an introvert I will naturally feel motivated not to intrude again. You want your blog posts to sit there in their pristine state without comments, have it your way! 

Blogspot actually has a system that allows you to wave some people's comments right through while holding others for "moderation," if you look for it and activate it. It's not perfect but it does catch 99% of the spam while bringing the legitimate comments from new people to your attention. 

Music 

Rhiannon Giddens.


Van Morrison.


Judy Collins.


Some random soccer fan. I'm not sure exactly what the message was intended to be, whether or not it's true, but it works as a song.


Bob Dylan.


What I'd call a hammed-up rendition of "God Bless America," but the song is sung accurately by the crowd in between bursts of strutting and gurgling, and it's a good enough song to have survived a lot of hammy performances over the years,


Tom Waits. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYRPhH60MRQ (Christmas in July, anyone?)

Sheriff Joe Arpaio...who knew he sang?


Polish Ambassador.


Matthew Magnusson and company.


The Pixies.


Pop-up mob.


Tindersticks.


David Bay. 


Tropic Vibration.


Melanie.


I'm not sure I believe anyone played three-quarters of "The Star-Spangled Banner" perfectly on metal targets with a rifle. I think this amateur video might have been enhanced a bit. But it's a target toward which the audience can aim.


Pelosi Family in the News Again 

Nancy Pelosi's husband Paul, who was last featured in national news when a maniac beat him up, made headlines last week by driving irresponsibly. He has been arrested for driving under the influence of alcohol before. This time he admitted driving under the influence of old age. While apparently sober, he slammed his Maserati into the back of a parked Tesla, then drove away for as far as the Maserati could go. Only when the Maserati, also damaged, came to a halt did Mr. Pelosi admit he was having trouble.

It can be hard to hand over the car keys but, when people start taking daily blood pressure medication, pain medication, Flomax, etc., handing over the keys can prevent expense and embarrassment.


Politics 


Google traces it to an Instagram account called Theeconomist, who may (it's hard to tell) have credited a cartoonist called Javi Aznarez. It's appeared in lots of places. It is viral.

Book Review: To Be Real

Title: To Be Real

Editor: Rebecca Walker

Date: 1995

Publisher: Anchor / Doubleday

ISBN: 0-385-47262-5

Length: 290 pages text, 40 pages introduction

Quote: “The greatest gift we can give one another is the power to make a choice.”

Rebecca Walker’s first contribution to American feminist thought was this collection of essays by young people who are still concerned about gender parity, but don’t fit the stereotype of the yuppie feminists of the 1980s. One reason they don’t fit the stereotype is that they came along too late to be yuppies. A few ambitious teachers and lawyers contributed essays to this book, but there’s also a model, a stripper, a rodeo showgirl.

There are also some men and some lesbians. Too many to suit me. Gloria Steinem used to cite a dictionary definition of “feminist” as meaning “anyone who thinks women are equally as valuable as men.” By that definition, these days, anyone who is reasonably in touch with reality qualifies as a feminist. If I were collecting a book about the female experience, however, I’d select writing by people who were unequivocally female and had lived an unequivocally female experience. Jeannine Delombard’s explanation of how her ambition to be as totally feminine as possible, too different from the boys even to want to kiss one, shaped her life of lesbian “Femmenism,” is an interesting story but not one the majority of women can really identify with.

I’d also try to include some viewpoints that are conspicuously missing from To Be Real. This book is supposed to be about the diversity of contemporary feminism but all the writers, without exception, are pretty far out on the left wing of twentieth-century politics. As Eleanor Burkitt observed, this is not an accurate representation of feminist thinking and action in the 1990s, which were also the decade when Republicans were begging Elizabeth Hanford Dole to run for President, when Laura Ingraham and Laura Schlessinger became media stars. Any historical study of the 1990s will need to balance this book with Burkitt’s book, The Right Women, a study of the diverse and sometimes baffling manifestations of right-wing feminism.

It might have been hard to persuade Laura Ingraham to write anything that would appear in an anthology along with a piece by Angela Davis, or vice versa, but that would have been the sort of anthology of 1990s feminist diversity that I would have accepted as “being real.”

Most of the contributors to To Be Real were not, and have not become, celebrity authors, although the book opens with Steinem and closes with Davis and includes pieces by Bell Hooks and Naomi Wolf. Most of them were in their early twenties when they wrote these essays, and it shows. The only way to describe the topics some of these writers chose, and the passionate intensity with which they made points they probably prefer to forget having argued now, is to say—as one had to say to some of what was collected in Sisterhood Is Powerful, years ago—“They are so young.” Anna Bondoc writes about being estranged from her conservative Catholic family by her activism on behalf of a left-wing group, or groups, that certainly don’t seem to have filled her life with joy. When she shares with a left-wing group the very personal story of how she’s given up her home and allowance to fight for their cause, a slightly older woman rejects her display of self-abnegation, complaining that Bondoc seems to have cut herself off from her roots...and Bondoc is so upset, you’d think she’d never even heard of the Queen Bee Syndrome. This is a teenage experience, even if Bondoc managed to postpone it into her twenties.

Then there’s Wolf’s essay, “Brideland,” which is remarkably revealing if you (a) are conversant with historical costumes and (b) have already read Hypocrite in a Pouffy White Dress. Wolf has absorbed a feeling that a wedding gown ought to resemble a “milkmaid” dress with “an eigh­teenth-century bodice, three-quarter-length sleeves, and an an­kle-length skirt with voluminous panniers.” (If you’ve never studied period costumes these descriptive words may not mean much, but you’ve seen the style—it’s in all the color illustrations of all the Mother Goose books.) Wolf has also absorbed the belief that a woman who wears this type of dress “is essen­tially dressing up like Queen Victoria.” In historical fact, Queen Victoria approved, more than created, several different fashion looks, but the “milkmaid” dress wasn’t one of them; the “milkmaid” dress was a late eighteenth century style, fondly recalled but not really repeated in nineteenth century fashions. There was a high fashion version of the “milkmaid” look, affected by Madame de Pompadour and Marie Antoinette, and then there was the downscale version real milkmaids might have worn. The downscale version was preserved in many parts of Europe during the nineteenth century’s craze for distinctive “local costumes,” like the Austrian costumes in The Sound of Music. So is the modern woman who wants to put on a pouffy dress trying to feel like Queen Victoria, or like a European peasant...or is she just discovering that the basic idea of the pouffy dress, the fitted waist and full skirt, is remarkably comfortable and flattering to women who don’t fit so well into styles designed for men or children? Regardless of which historical period or village “uniform” might have inspired the details?

Bell Hooks had written several books before To Be Real. She’d even raised a point I consider very important—the need for women to raise our consciousness of the way some of us displace anger at “societal oppression” onto our children and students. Her contribution to To Be Real, however, will probably strike moderate to right-wing readers as surreal. In “Beauty Laid Bare,” Hooks addresses the Far Left: “Militant black power movement...did not encourage a reclamation of atti­tudes about beauty common in traditional black folk culture,” she complains. “All too often...living simply was made synonymous with...living without attention to beauty.” Her solution: “[W]e need to be vigilant in creating an ethical approach to consumerism that sustains and affirms radical agendas for social change. Rather than surrendering our passion for the beautiful, for luxury, we need to envision ways those passions can be fulfilled that do not reinforce the structures of domination we seek to change.” For middle-of-the-road feminists who were and still are likely to connect with each other mainly at arts, crafts, and music festivals, Hooks is probably preaching to the choir, but she is preaching to an “English Only” choir in Sanskrit.

Then there’s the weird effect created by placing Veena Cabreros-Sud’s call for toughness (“don’t ever not fight”) immediately before Elizabeth Mitchell’s whimper of tenderness (“It’s not that I did my dolls wrong,but that I secretly resented them. They made me a mother too soon...Through dolls, the heart muscles of females are strengthened, ensuring that they will be ruled by compassion and, trough that compassion, by others, for the rest of their lives”). Both of these young women have, it seems, been exposed to yuppie feminists who still think altruism is a good thing, who don’t want to hit a mugger because that would lower them to his level. Neither of them has thought seriously about the very radical Christian idea that “God’s will,” or the Highest Good, for two or more seemingly opposed people may be different from and better than either having their own way or giving up their own way. One in an aggressive way (Cabreros-Sud suggests that every undesirable thing in life be seen as “violence” not “limited to the physical” plane, and fought against with “ugly, angry, cuss-ridden mouths”) and one in a passive way (Mitchell talks about the healing benefit of selfishness, but what she seems to mean is that she wants to travel more before she has a baby), they’re still speaking the truth of early adolescence. Neither seems to have thought much about the empowering benefits of responsibility or of genuine, rather than altruistic, love.

For whom was this book written? Who could have learned something from it? I’m not sure. If To Be Real was meant to encourage more young people to think of themselves as feminists, I’ve seen little evidence that it succeeded. Of course, this cannot be attributed entirely to the book’s merits; pressure on public libraries to discard even excellent books to make room for ephemeral electronic junk kept practically any book that wasn’t a computer manual and didn’t feature Harry Potter from being as successful as it would have been ten years earlier, and then the mass media decided to publicize war, foreign policy, and the continuous fall of “the economy” to the exclusion of everything else. I don’t know of any feminists who’ve either abandoned our goals or seriously decided that we’ve met them, but I do know that not nearly as much is being published about feminists as was being published ten years ago.

If To Be Real was meant to persuade people like Alice Walker that people like Rebecca Walker were Real Feminists too, I’m not sure how well it succeeded in that goal either. It does conclusively prove that, although even China had admitted that Marxism or Maoism couldn’t work in the real world, the people for whom left-wing ideology had been a substitute for religious faith were still clinging to their faith in 1995. At the time one could hope that they’d outgrow it. The behavior of some people in the current administration suggests otherwise. The authors in this book were still left-wingers, and probably several of them still are. But “left-wing” and “feminist” are entirely different things.

For whom could this book be useful today? Future historians may want it as a study of the 1990s, but is anyone writing a book or even a paper about the 1990s yet? Well...in the meantime, this is a book of short stories about young people coming of age. Each contributor was asked to write about her or his personal growth through a personal experience of feminism, so although the stories are memoirs rather than polished pieces of literary symbolism, each story can still be enjoyed for its plot and characters. If, like me, you find fact-based short stories more interesting than the ones that are altogether fictional, you will enjoy reading the stories of 21 twenty-somethings.

Butterfly of the Week: Purple Spotted Swallowtail

Graphium weiskei is the Purple Spotted Swallowtail because it has pale purple spots. A few sources give it the more fanciful name "Purple Mountain Emperor," and a few simply translate its Latin name as "Weiske's Graphium." Emil Weiske was a nineteenth century naturalist. Another butterfly (in the genus Delias), a bee, and a bird species were also named weiskei in honor of him. Weiskei is most "properly" pronounced like "vye-sky-ee."


Photo by Gancw1 for Inauralist, December, 2024.


Photo by John Lenagan for herpsandbirds.tumblr.com.


Photo by Gan CW on Tumblr. A little actual pigmentation underlies the purple spots, but they can shade to pink or blue or fade to white, depending partly on the light and partly on the individual's condition. 

Swallowtail butterflies named after real people or places tend to have been named later, so less information is available about them. Graphium weiskei was named only in 1900. It is common in a small habitat, the higher elevations of New Guinea; few people have actually seen it alive, though its unusual color has generated much interest in pictures and dead bodies. 

The underside of the wings, which is more often seen, doesn't look very distinctive, though it may have a faint purplish blush on the upper wing tips. It could be mistaken for Graphium kosii or Graphium gelon or other species. One of its other distinguishing features is that, even for a Swallowtail, it has a big head and stout, furry body.


Photo from Gailhampshire, originally on Flickr, donated to Wikipedia.

It has been found between 4000 and 8000 feet above sea level.

A less than faithful drawing appears on postage from Sao Tome e Principe:


The purple color can be conspicuous on a living butterfly:


Photo from papua-insects.nl. 

On some male individuals it can fade to periwinkle, or sky-blue like the blue spot on the butterfly shown above, or even white. On females, the black base color can fade to brown, and the purple spot can fade to pink. Even the pink spot makes this a very unusual butterfly.

Here is a slow-motion video of Graphium weiskei startled into flight:


Nothing seems to have been documented about this butterfly's food plants or life cycle. Someone in New Guinea can still become famous by learning about this species.

Sunday, July 12, 2026

Book Review: Love Must Be Tough

Title: Love Must Be Tough

Author: James C. Dobson

Date: 1983

Publisher: Word

ISBN: 0-8499-0348-3

Length: 212 pages

Quote: “There would be fewer bitter divorces if young husbands and wives knew how to draw therir drifting partners toward them, rather than relentlessly drive them away.”

Dr. Dobson thinks the concept of tough love is “relevant to all human relationships...business and labor, guards and prisoners, Americans and Russians.” He doesn’t want readers to think he’s promising them more than he can deliver: “Genuine insights into human behavior are not everyday occurrences...if one stumbles into two or three fundamental principles in the course of a lifetime, he has done well. The pages that follow focus on one of my allotted few.”

His insight was that it takes two people to save a relationship. If the other person refuses to do anything to save it, your best chance is to toughen up, stand on your principles, get a life of your own, and let the other person come back around to you. Or not.

In the early 1980s, Dr. Dobson was actually offering a big improvement over what some Christian counsellors were telling people, which was to forgive everything, be a doormat, keep pleading for love and being rejected, and offer your misery up to God.

Now that we’ve all agreed that walking away from a relationship before it becomes toxic is more likely to work toward everyone’s Highest Good than enabling abuse is, however, there is a need for a next step. Christians who are not in twelve-step groups have yet to discover the power of community to help tough love work.

A young couple “fall in love,” get married, believe that making babies is the only way they can really “make love,” and do it often. After ten years, the husband notices that love is not exactly what he feels for his messy house, his five needy whiny children, and his fat, depressive, lactating wife. If he were a Real Man he’d get tough,. himself, and recognize that feelings are supposed to come and go, and plan on doing the decent thing for a few years until the children reach a more enjoyable stage of development and the wife recovers her health. Real Men, however, were always a minority; in his generation they’re an endangered species. So he makes excuses to move out—“on business”—and, since he has a good income and has moved into a low-rent neighborhood, very soon he’s sharing a house with a divorced woman. Then he’s sharing a bed. Then they have a baby. Then he’s genuinely torn for a while, because his wife is beautiful (apart from the temporary weight problem) and has Background, whereas the divorcee is frequently mistaken for a fat boy and is known among her people as White Trash, but in the end, the house with one infant seems more pleasant than the house with five. So he files for divorce.

Now, more than twenty-five years after Love Must Be Tough was first published, at least all the qualified and unqualified counsellors are telling the divorced mother the same thing. Give him tough love! Raise the babies alone! Show him that you’re a thoroughbred! Living well is the best revenge! Get a better job than he’s got, lose the surplus weight, put all five kids through college without him! Go, girl!

It all sounds good, and plays well on TV, but reality is that she's not qualified for a job that's going to put anybody through college. There are those who say, “What she needs to do is beg for handouts.” First of all, there’s a long line of people waiting for every handout our government can still afford to offer, and we all know our government is offering more than it can afford. Then, if she has any assets, such as her looks and Background, instead of feeling moved to help her, social workers probably feel inclined to gloat; they don't want to help her back up to the lifestyle to which she is accustomed, they want to push her further down into the mire. Maybe they can "help" her move into a housing project where she has to share a bathroom with a drug dealer.

Christians need to learn from the apostles’ example. The apostolic church was not content to sit around telling people how they were supposed to feel. The apostolic church understood “love” as an active verb. Although some apostolic church communities actually practiced voluntary communism, or communalism, for a while, no apostolic church community was foolish enough to offer handouts to people who were able to work. Even the “widows...taken into the number” of respectable ladies over age seventy still seem to have been expected to give something back to the community. Instead of doling out handouts and pauperizing people who wanted to be useful, the apostolic church put these people’s talents and energy to work. St. Paul ordered them to “Let him that stole steal no more, but let him labor...that he may have to give to him that needeth,” and, “If any will not work, neither let him eat.”

It would be pleasant if Dr. Dobson had written another book advising Christians how to help fat, depressive, heartbroken rejects practice Tough Love and be fascinatingly independent. That mother of five needs help on both practical and emotional levels if she is going to practice Tough Love. Women, particularly, need to rally around a woman who is in financial straits. This may be hard to do, especially when the lady in distress is still prettier than they’ll ever be, but if they don’t do it their husbands will. They need to keep this woman busy; they need to make sure her income is steady and her loyalty is to them rather than to their husbands.

Well...that’s the book I think Dobson needed to write. What about the book he did write? It’s still worth reading today. If you’ve already heard a lot about Tough Love, as it might be in a therapy or recovery group, you might feel that you no longer need to read all the examples of tough love Dobson shares. If the concept is relatively new to you, even today, then you might still need to read the whole book, with specific examples of how Tough Love can help people whose spouses have left them or cheated on them, families plagued by domestic violence, families of addicts, parents and teenagers, and so on.

Actually, although the first few chapters try to be inclusive, the first two-thirds of the book deal mostly with adultery...probably reflecting Dobson’s counselling experience; the book never discusses examples of Tough Love between “Americans and Russians.” Dobson had discussed Tough Love for parents and children rather thoroughly in Dare to Discipline and Preparing for Adolescence. The final third of this book discusses other family situations that call for Tough Love. Dobson was among the first Christian counsellors to advise wives to leave abusive husbands--not to remarry, just to go somewhere else for their own safety and that of the children.

Those interested in being counsellors probably need to read the whole book. Counsellees may skim over the sections that don’t apply to them. 

Web Log Weekender for 7.10-11.26 (Unless All the Transformers Blow Up Again)

Gentle Readers, I hope your week has been more profitable than mine was. I spent most of mine sweating, wondering what was going on with "the grid" that we need to break down before it gets even more connected so that even more people lack electricity even longer after every little summer storm, and being very glad that I was not one of the people who had gone off to spend a week at the beach, leaving their freezers and refrigerators full of food...

Now I have a week's worth of e-friends' blogs to catch up with, not even to mention the e-mail. So of course Microsoft thinks my top priority should be spending two hours watching it roll out "updates." 

We need a law, if the Internet is to survive, mandating that companies respect the PRIVACY and SOVEREIGNTY of INDIVIDUAL Computer OWNERS. (\Those words are important because the people demanding the never-ending "updates" and obsolescence and wasteful "data centers" haaaate them).The wording of the law should include in a brief preamble a recognition that "Microsoft, Google, Facebook, and other companies have gone too far" and should mandate, as a condition for corporations to be able to "update" computers or send unsolicited messages at all, that all computer operating systems block all input not invited by a specific keyboard command while the computer is in use. It should also specify that third-party input must be reviewed by the FCC and, if found to contain any attempt to "see" any content that has not been published under its creator's name, will result in the company and all of its employees having only "read-only" Internet access for a year.

The alternative? I don't like it, but given the current administration it will probably be necessary: Mass Exodus. If the Internet is not going to serve us the technorati in ways that are ethically acceptable to us, let it crash and burn. We can build a new one.

Animals 

Nice clear photos of England's version of our Ebony Jewel Wing damselflies, showing how different the species really are. In less clear (or lower-magnification) photos they can be hard to tell apart.


The speed at which kittens are adopted in Ohio...similar to here. I'm sure the adorable photos and video helped this purrfect pair.


Vintage meme revived for your delight:


Lens traces the photo to https://sirmend.weebly.com/ , where it's still top of a list of five beautiful bird pictures that seems to be the only post that's been left online. Lens didn't trace the caption. It may have originated with Pointman 12 Deplorable Garbage, who shared the photo and caption on the Meow.

Finally our own status update: Serena's kitten's eyes are open, his ears are starting to unfold, he's adjusted to the size and ugliness of humans and re-learned to snuggle into my hand, and he's walking on stubby little baby legs. He seems to feel a bit bored and lonely, trying to play and exercise all by himself, but to feel that that's the feline condition and not worth complaining about; he's not a whiny kitten. He is a talker, though. He makes it absolutely clear when he wants milk. From the "word" he uses to tell us he's hungry (which Serena is not allowing to happen very often), I've started calling him Mooch. The formal name "Miracle" is still unclaimed, of course, if he lives to claim it. 

I think he gets his looks and precocious activity from Wild Thyme. I think he's going to be absolutely adorable and, unless he's one of those kittens whose actual gender isn't what it appeared to be when they were babies, too much competition for Drudge to be asked to tolerate. He is not up for adoption, though. He's been claimed. If he lives so long, he'll stay here until he's six months old or until Drudge or Serena says he needs to leave, whichever comes first, and then he'll have his own barn to manage. The barn belongs to people with a good healthy level of Glyphosate Awareness so all he should have to fear are clumsy horses. If he's blessed with foster siblings, females who fit in with Serena and Silver can stay here. (Hard to imagine any female cat not getting along with Drudge.)

AARP, Wixness of 

The American Association of Retired Persons has exploited the concept of "retirement" for the Left for longer than I've been alive. I've been burning invitations to join them for years now, despite the benefits they offer members. They reached a pinnacle of wixness, however, with their advertisements on Right-leaning web sites today, demanding that people who they know don't support the group's political agenda "sign the pledge" to support that agenda anyway. 

Know this, AARP: I am a writer. My work is my life. I pledge, if unable to work, to stop eating. Stick your "pledge" up your noses.

Books 

Someone has finally defended the reputation of Warren G. Harding, the United States' only Seventh-Day Adventist President. (As a politician Harding drifted away from a church that didn't really approve of its members being "worldly" enough to vote, but he maintained some ties; his former home became the President's Residence at the Adventist college outside Washington.) Click for details that may make you want to buy the book.


Scalzi's auctioning off a bundle of e-books in aid of World Central Kitchen...hey, you don't have to read all 22 books; I'll take them.


Least Fortunate Criminals 

Although this web site is hiding the street slang title in one of those Embedded Links we don't usually bother to do, we do think this Weird News incident is funny: While Thief #1 was robbing a store, Thief #2 stole #1's vehicle.

Music 

Gentle Readers, this category is open to suggestions. I like the mix of styles, periods, ethnicities, etc., but it could be madder. I think (for example) every full-length music links entry here has some Canadian content; I could be wrong; we could have more, and not always Neil Young. Speaking of Young People, of whom Neil is no longer one, this web site is of, by, and for old ladies whom young people are supposed to visit in order to listen and learn, but listening and learning should work both ways. I like and often post music from my parents' and grandparents' times. I'd like to know more of the music of The Nephews' times, too. What do you listen to, repeatedly, by choice, and why?

Anyway: Roy Buchanan.


The Fixx.


Jefferson Airplane.





Little Texas.


David Crosby.



Dolly Parton.


Ludovico Einaudi.





Ricky Martin. Some PG-rated dancing--I hope nobody's watching videos at the office anyway.


Yuval Gilboa.


Jennifer Lopez.


George Winston. For me this tune is not associated with a specific season. If it sounds like December and brings a pleasant chill to you, all to the good. (It's on his "December" album.)


Alanis Morissette.


Baklava Klezmer Soul. (This song was actually in the school music books in California when I was in primary school, so I grew up singing it--in English.)


Chiloo.


JJ Cale.


Shania Twain.


Mark Knopfler.


One of the America 250 performances, US Air Force band. Amateur recording cuts off short of the end, but you can hear the words so I'll allow it.


Robin Williamson.


Justin Hayward.


Neil Young.


Felix Mendelssohn. Someone at the site where I found the link asked whether this was the piece Felix couldn't get to sound "right" to him, and started to throw away; Fanny made it come out "right" but Felix still published it under his name only. Nobody claimed to know, but that was the way their parents told Felix Mendelssohn to behave. Left to himself he might have shown a little more brotherly spirit. The parents didn't think it was fair for Fanny, who was pretty and married well, to publicize the fact that she was as good a musician as Felix was--until Felix died, and people began to wonder whether any of the works of "F. Mendelssohn" were really Felix's own. (Probably some of them were.)


Justin Johnson.


Emmylou Harris. (Content warning: this is a funeral song.)


Wes Montgomery.



Tom Petty.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gaPj1GoDpQw (Christmas in July anyone?)


Townes Van Zandt.



Peter Green.


Sergio Mendes.


Antonio Carlos-Jobim.


Metallica.


John Coltrane.


Astrud Gilberto.


Incredible String Band.



Traffic.


Steppenwolf.


Poems 

Arnon Peterson, grade twelve...I'm sure some adult helped him polish these poems. Nevertheless. Dang fine work, and it's worth reading the comments for a live exchange in rhymed quatrains.


Politics 

Maine's Ds finally jettison Graham "Jonah" Platner.


Google says it was done by Chip Bok and posted in lots of places in just two days, including TheViewFromLadyLake, which is where I saw it first. 

This is partisan and uncharitable, but a party that can't find better candidates than Platner deserves it. Why why why can't Ds fold in to the center and reclaim moderates like, well, the current administration? Why don't they just once and for all take an adult view of socialism?

Zazzle

I have no idea whether either of the bloggers who commented about wanting T-shirts that said "Blog stalking--the sincerest form of flattery" have had those shirts printed and worn them out by now, or still want them. But this is the point of the Zazzle Page soon to appear here. Almost any idea can be printed on a T-shirt. And/or on matching ball caps, stationery, pillows, postcards, almost anything. 


In the post immediately after that one, Barb Taub described a family gathering when someone ran out of T-shirts and bought one, and the whole family bought the rest of the store's inventory so they had matching "team" T-shirts. That's what Zazzle is for. You can even order college, movie, or cartoon character themes, although if you do that you're feeding money to corporations rather than supporting this web site.

However, a great way to support this web site (morally--profits are still going to USPIRG until we reach our donation quota, and then and only then will I have a chance to cash an actual check) is to order a shirt with the message of your choice on it. You can add your own images (they need to be fairly high-resolution) or public-domain images from sites like Morguefile or Pixabay, or just play with type fonts, sizes, and colors. You can suggest a design for me to post, then tweak it to suit yourself before buying it; Zazzle is set up to encourage customers to add design elements of their own, especially names and event dates. For example, if I post a shirt that says "Blog stalking--the sincerest form of flattery," you could add a line that lists one or more blogs you follow and/or blogs from which you're hoping to raise a little subscription money for yourself. 

Friday, July 10, 2026

Belated Petfinder Post: Just Some Cats and Dogs

If I could dash off a Long & Short Reviews post, I can dash off a Petfinder post. I'm not willing to squeeze in the time, this afternoon, to learn about the Brussels Gryffon or Bull Mastiff breeds. They will just have to wait. Here's potluck--the best of the first dozen pictures on each of the Petfinder pages I visit:

Zipcode 10101: Kenzie & Louie from NYC 


Born on 10.31.23, this tabby sister and brother aren't described as particularly good at recognizing words, but they generally seem to like hearing humans talk or sing. They could be adopted separately.

Rudolph from Puerto Rico 


Like so many humans from the island, this sato (street dog) came to New York City in search of a better life. He is about six months old, weighs about 35 pounds, and is described as very good at making his foster human feel loved.

Zipcode 20202: Katniss Everclear from South Carolina


Someone drives up the coast regularly so she can be delivered to DC or "the Northeast." If you're not near Route 1, you can still adopt this adorable, kitten-sized two-year-old cat but you'll need to come to South Carolina to meet her. Five pounds may always be her healthy weight. 

Alex from Cleveland, Texas, by way of DC 


Believed to be a Border Collie or more of that than anything else, this handsome dog probably won't be in search of a home for long. He is described as a young friendly dog who likes to cool off by swimming (could be part retriever?). Adopt Alex if you are, or are committed to becoming, an active person who enjoys walking or jogging a few brisk miles every morning with extra strolls around the neighborhood in between times. Border Collies are intelligent dogs who like to have "jobs." 

Zipcode 30303: Wisteria from Chattanooga 


She has siblings but they don't insist that you adopt a sibling with her. Wisteria is described as the smallest kitten in the litter, liking to play with her siblings and to be alone and think. 

Gage from Chattanooga 


He weighs about 60 pounds. He has probably reached his full size. He has a safe foster home; he's not in desperate need of adoption. That his foster family are willing to keep him until the perfect pawmanent home can be found says a lot about this hound's pawsonality. 

Bonus: Zipcode 37660: Shirley from Kingsport 


The alley cat family as rescued includes Shirley, her sister Laverne, and her kitten Squiggy. They're from Connecticut; any resemblance to the Patchnose Family is coincidental, but they could be another social cat family. Shirley is described as a shy cat, not completely feral but not eager to be a pet. If you can adopt the whole family together and wait patiently for the cats to become pets, that may help.

Simon from Texas 


A DNA test suggests that this lovable shaggy puppy is mostly poodle with at least seventeen other breeds mixed in. He was abandoned at a public park and is currently in foster care in Texas, but listed for adoption in every other place his humans are willing to visit. They say he needs to be adopted by someone who has experience training puppies. He is completely ignorant but seems smart and willing to learn. He weighed 15 pounds when photographed but is expected to weigh twice that much as an adult. Small dogs can live as long as cats, so you should plan on his being part of your family for ten to fifteen years or even longer.