News outlets have widely reported on the prank phone call recently made to vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin. A Montreal radio personality called and spoke to Palin, claiming to be French President Nicolas Sarkozy. Speaking in an exaggerated French accent, the interviewer sneakily jabbed at Palin about Joe the Plumber, her comments on seeing Russia from her home and a porno made to spoof her. Palin responded with hesitant, polite conversation until the prankster revealed himself as such, and a campaign aide took the phone to end the call.
Hysterical.
OK, well, a little funny.
Actually, it was mostly dumb, but I give the interviewer an E for effort (which is naturally right between D and F on the standard U.S. grading scale).
Palin's camp has appeared largely undisturbed by the prank, at least in its public statements. One spokesperson described Palin as "mildly amused" by the incident -- although I contend that "mildly amused" is her natural, default demeanor.
In reality, there's another reason why Palin and her people are purportedly passive about the prickly pranksters (conclusion of gratuitous alliteration). It's because Palin is just moments away from revealing a much bigger, more impressive prank.
This blogger has learned that at 9 p.m. Eastern standard time, in a presidential election special of "Saturday Night Live," Palin and her accomplices will reveal that her candidacy for VP has been a carefully executed prank on the people of the United States.
While I have not been able to obtain an exact script of the sketch, SNL insiders say the revelation will occur midway through the program as the real Palin and the Tina Fey version engage in a mock debate, during which they apparently compete to see who can make the most over-the-top idiotic statements. After the real Palin blurts out a serious of comments so ridiculous and offensive to human reasoning that even the staunchest GOP voters in the audience will reconsider their choice, Ashton Kutcher will rush out onto the stage and shout: "America, you've been Punk'd!"
Campaign insiders tell us that a new vice presidential nominee will then be introduced. They wouldn't name him for fear of spoiling the surprise, but they did hint they he was older, whiter and better endowed (in the penis department) than Palin.
The stated motives for the Palin stunt vary widely depending whom we ask. GOP campaign insiders describe the intent as two-fold: A) The party wanted to appear hip and in touch with the young, TV/Internet generation by dropping a major news item for some last-minute publicity, and B) They couldn't get a real candidate to agree to join the ticket in time for a traditional announcement.
However, people close to Kutcher and Fey (who were both instrumental in the prank since its beginning) say the TV stars will describe the prank as one carried out strictly for entertainment purposes. Meanwhile, there's chatter that the liberal Hollywood types have been secretly steering the plan in a direction that would discourage voters from electing the GOP ticket.
Whatever the case, this hoax obviously took a lot of cunning and coordination. One insider suggested that McCain himself hasn't been told yet that Palin is not his real running mate. The same source also said Barack Obama was even in on the prank: "Think of him as the hedge fund short-seller to the plan -- betting on failure by the GOP."
Well, McCain/Palin, it's been a zany ride. Boy, do we all feel silly now.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
BofA's NASCAR Banking: The financial markets are saved!!!
You've all heard the painful news from the world financial markets: Major banks and investment banks have failed. Stock prices have plummeted (and taken down retirement accounts with them). The credit markets are tight and getting tighter, which means some businesses lack the working capital to effectively operate and pay their employees.
It's bad news. People have thrown around doom-and-gloom words like "depression" and "bread lines." And while I can't deny that there are some fundamental economic problems that will take time to work out, I also think the average consumer and investor needs to try not to panic. What we need is a little confidence, to keep at least a reasonable amount of spending and investing alive.
Well, today, I found the confidence that I needed in the form of a radio ad. Today I learned about Bank of America's NASCAR Banking program.
Thank heaven. We are saved.
Before, I might have been a little concerned that banks were unstable and maybe I should consider stuffing a little cash and maybe a jar of Nutella into my mattress, just to be safe. But now I've found something that makes all that precaution unnecessary. What could possibly be more secure than a free, no-minimum-balance Dale Earnhardt Jr. checking account? (Also available in Jeff Gordon, Mark Martin and about a dozen other varieties.)
Seriously, Earnhardt has been the rock of a multi-generational racing family ever since his father's untimely demise in 2001. The guy has ranked in the top 10 in four out of the last six NASCAR seasons. Plus, his success has naturally bolstered his finances, as he's averaged about $5 million a year in winnings since 2001.
I think it's safe to assume that my Dale Earnhardt Jr. checking account will be just as sturdy, reliable and lucrative as its namesake driver. I'm moving all my money over there today. Nevermind that Bank of America had to cut in half its quarterly dividend and raise $10 billion in capital last week to keep racing through this series of yellow-flag laps. This NASCAR Banking program should be just the thing to keep BofA leading the pack of US banks, and hopefully let the rest of the financial system draft off its success.
Some might say I'm being overly optimistic. I say: those people have never met Jr.
OK, so I've never met Jr. either, but he seems pretty cool.
At any rate, if this plan doesn't work and the financial markets truly do collapse, we can always go back to a bartering system.
It's bad news. People have thrown around doom-and-gloom words like "depression" and "bread lines." And while I can't deny that there are some fundamental economic problems that will take time to work out, I also think the average consumer and investor needs to try not to panic. What we need is a little confidence, to keep at least a reasonable amount of spending and investing alive.
Well, today, I found the confidence that I needed in the form of a radio ad. Today I learned about Bank of America's NASCAR Banking program.
Thank heaven. We are saved.
Before, I might have been a little concerned that banks were unstable and maybe I should consider stuffing a little cash and maybe a jar of Nutella into my mattress, just to be safe. But now I've found something that makes all that precaution unnecessary. What could possibly be more secure than a free, no-minimum-balance Dale Earnhardt Jr. checking account? (Also available in Jeff Gordon, Mark Martin and about a dozen other varieties.)
Seriously, Earnhardt has been the rock of a multi-generational racing family ever since his father's untimely demise in 2001. The guy has ranked in the top 10 in four out of the last six NASCAR seasons. Plus, his success has naturally bolstered his finances, as he's averaged about $5 million a year in winnings since 2001.
I think it's safe to assume that my Dale Earnhardt Jr. checking account will be just as sturdy, reliable and lucrative as its namesake driver. I'm moving all my money over there today. Nevermind that Bank of America had to cut in half its quarterly dividend and raise $10 billion in capital last week to keep racing through this series of yellow-flag laps. This NASCAR Banking program should be just the thing to keep BofA leading the pack of US banks, and hopefully let the rest of the financial system draft off its success.
Some might say I'm being overly optimistic. I say: those people have never met Jr.
OK, so I've never met Jr. either, but he seems pretty cool.
At any rate, if this plan doesn't work and the financial markets truly do collapse, we can always go back to a bartering system.
Friday, September 12, 2008
I couldn't say it any better
On the day after a terrible anniversary for our nation, I found an article in my e-mail that I think is worth sharing.
The following letter was drafted by a handful of religious leaders including Jim Wallis, founder of the progressive Christian organization Sojourners, shortly after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. About 4,000 of the nation's religious leaders (from a number of faiths) endorsed the letter and it was soon printed in the New York Times as an advertisement.
I hope everyone can appreciate the sentiments of these words, regardless of your own religious beliefs. I can only wish that the nation's political leaders had heeded them over these past seven years:
The following letter was drafted by a handful of religious leaders including Jim Wallis, founder of the progressive Christian organization Sojourners, shortly after the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. About 4,000 of the nation's religious leaders (from a number of faiths) endorsed the letter and it was soon printed in the New York Times as an advertisement.
I hope everyone can appreciate the sentiments of these words, regardless of your own religious beliefs. I can only wish that the nation's political leaders had heeded them over these past seven years:
"Deny Them Their Victory: A Religious Response to Terrorism
We, American religious leaders, share the broken hearts of our fellow citizens. The worst terrorist attack in history that assaulted New York City, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania has been felt in every American community. Each life lost was of unique and sacred value in the eyes of God, and the connections Americans feel to those lives run very deep. In the face of such a cruel catastrophe, it is a time to look to God and to each other for the strength we need and the response we will make. We must dig deep to the roots of our faith for sustenance, solace and wisdom.
First, we must find a word of consolation for the untold pain and suffering of our people. Our congregations will offer their practical and pastoral resources to bind up the wounds of the nation. We can become safe places to weep and secure places to begin rebuilding our shattered lives and communities. Our houses of worship should become public arenas for common prayer, community discussion, eventual healing, and forgiveness.
Second, we offer a word of sober restraint as our nation discerns what its response will be. We share the deep anger toward those who so callously and massively destroy innocent lives, no matter what the grievances or injustices invoked. In the name of God, we too demand that those responsible for these utterly evil acts be found and brought to justice. Those culpable must not escape accountability. But we must not, out of anger and vengeance, indiscriminately retaliate in ways that bring on even more loss of innocent life. We pray that President Bush and members of Congress will seek the wisdom of God as they decide upon the appropriate response.
Third, we face deep and profound questions of what this attack on America will do to us as a nation. The terrorists have offered us a stark view of the world they would create, where the remedy to every human grievance and injustice is a resort to the random and cowardly violence of revenge -- even against the most innocent. Having taken thousands of our lives, attacked our national symbols, forced our political leaders to flee their chambers of governance, disrupted our work and families, and struck fear into the hearts of our children, the terrorists must feel victorious.
But we can deny them their victory by refusing to submit to a world created in their image. Terrorism inflicts not only death and destruction but also emotional oppression to further its aims. We must not allow this terror to drive us away from being the people God has called us to be. We assert the vision of community, tolerance, compassion, justice, and the sacredness of human life, which lies at the heart of all our religious traditions. America must be a safe place for all our citizens in all their diversity. It is especially important that our citizens who share national origins, ethnicity, or religion with whoever attacked us are, themselves, protected among us.
Our American illusion of invulnerability has been shattered. From now on, we will look at the world in a different way, and this attack on our life as a nation will become a test of our national character. Let us make the right choices in this crisis -- to pray, act, and unite against the bitter fruits of division, hatred and violence. Let us rededicate ourselves to global peace, human dignity, and the eradication of the injustice that breeds rage and vengeance.
As we gather in our houses of worship, let us begin a process of seeking the healing and grace of God."
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
September is a new day: A personal pep talk in five stanzas
September is a new day, and I shall be a new man. I shall water the ferns more regularly and walk the dogs at least every other day. I shall read more and work fewer crossword puzzles. I shall comb my hair and brush my teeth first thing each morning, even though I do not plan to leave the house. I shall whistle while I work.
I shall eat less fast food and exercise more. I shall finally buy life insurance and e-mail the photos to my uncle that I promised him months ago. I shall clean my floors twice weekly.
I shall spend more of my work hours working. I shall spend any free work hours pursuing the freelance writing opportunities I have long claimed to want. I shall more frequently foster creativity through blogging, which shall mean bettering my recent average of three to four posts per month. I shall spend far less time playing this game and this game, and for goodness sake I shall not play any more of this game.
I shall be more content and less restless, yet I shall boldly go where no man has gone before. I shall try something new in bed. I shall not pay anyone $1,500 to $2,000 to paint the exterior trimwork of my house, the scoundrels.
I shall resist evil and seek justice. I shall give to charity. I shall stand my ground against the neighborhood cats who defecate in my yard. I shall be a new man.
I shall eat less fast food and exercise more. I shall finally buy life insurance and e-mail the photos to my uncle that I promised him months ago. I shall clean my floors twice weekly.
I shall spend more of my work hours working. I shall spend any free work hours pursuing the freelance writing opportunities I have long claimed to want. I shall more frequently foster creativity through blogging, which shall mean bettering my recent average of three to four posts per month. I shall spend far less time playing this game and this game, and for goodness sake I shall not play any more of this game.
I shall be more content and less restless, yet I shall boldly go where no man has gone before. I shall try something new in bed. I shall not pay anyone $1,500 to $2,000 to paint the exterior trimwork of my house, the scoundrels.
I shall resist evil and seek justice. I shall give to charity. I shall stand my ground against the neighborhood cats who defecate in my yard. I shall be a new man.
Monday, August 25, 2008
A lifetime of learning
As much as I value the knowledge I gained through formal education, sometimes life's most important lessons are learned through day-to-day experiences. So, to help you and me both avoid work and productivity for a little while, here is a quick list of lessons I've recently learned:
1. August is not the time of year to do home-improvement projects inside your attic. This sounds like common sense, I know, but yet I have been (and continue to be) determined to complete a radiant barrier project in my attic before Georgia's sweltering summer ends. The idea here is to see whether and how well the radiant barrier works, as its mission is to deflect away some of the sun's heat energy, cooling down the attic on hot summer days and then cooling down the upstairs rooms.
Despite knowing that the attic temperatures easily top 100 degrees on sunny days, I attempted to work in the space two days straight a couple of weekends ago. It was very slow-moving work (applying the radiant barrier mixed with paint by roller), and my clothes were entirely drenched with sweat, as if I had jumped into a pool. I knew I had to call it a day at about 1:00 on Saturday afternoon, when I found myself sitting on a plank between two ceiling joists feeling so sluggish that I considered taking a nap inside the attic.
I'll be back attic, and I'll defeat you. But on rainy days when the sun has not baked through the roof all morning.
2. My best solution in the what-baby-stuff-to-register-for crisis (See prior post) is this: Register for almost everything and then return to the store the things you don't use. Seriously, it was really hurting my head for a while, trying to figure out a way to be a minimalist at the whole raising a baby thing. Trouble is: I've never raised a baby. I've only seen other people do it, and I've never seen anyone else do it in a way that I would consider even close to minimalist. Plus, I know many family and friends are going to buy us lots of stuff, whether we register for it or not. So I've decided (and I think Meaghan agrees) that we're going to err on the side of getting things, and then when we see what we are not using we'll take that stuff back to the store.
That's not so much a lesson learned from day-to-day experience as a decision to escape my usual indecisiveness.
3. In any garden or area of self-installed landscaping, the most expensive plants always die first. This is a repeat lesson, exactly the same as the one nature taught us last summer, but we had hoped this time it would be different. Of the various flowers, bushes and ferns we set out this year (not an overall expensive lot, mind you), the only ones making any effort to continue flourishing are the absolutely cheapest white flowers in the garden. There is one fern on the front porch that continues to do well, looking like its own miniature rainforest, while its counterpart (which received the exact same watering treatment) is the equivalent of Charlie Brown's twig of a Christmas tree.
I suppose maybe the real lesson here should be: Plants die without water. We are pitifully neglectful about watering our plants. If I do go to the trouble of ever planting a vegetable garden in my yard, I will most certainly have to install some of those drip-irrigation hoses to keep it watered.
4. Wherever there's a hole in a fence that you're pretty sure your dog can't get out, the dog will most certainly get out. Maybe two days in a row. Especially if that dog is Jewels.
No worries; we got her back. She had just gone next door to visit another dog. And the hole is officially repaired now. She's not getting out at that spot again unless she learns to use a pry bar and pop the nails loose. I'm pretty sure.
5. Gently jogging a couple times a week on an indoor track is poor preparation for running a very hilly 5K road race. Seriously. Some of you may be familiar with a certain hill topped by a tower topped by a clock. Well, try running up that hill in the middle of a 5-kilometer footrace. It hurts. I haven't been that sore in a long time.
That's pretty much all. I hope that, deep down, I have learned much more valuable lessons than these in the last several weeks, but they're escaping my mind at the moment.
1. August is not the time of year to do home-improvement projects inside your attic. This sounds like common sense, I know, but yet I have been (and continue to be) determined to complete a radiant barrier project in my attic before Georgia's sweltering summer ends. The idea here is to see whether and how well the radiant barrier works, as its mission is to deflect away some of the sun's heat energy, cooling down the attic on hot summer days and then cooling down the upstairs rooms.
Despite knowing that the attic temperatures easily top 100 degrees on sunny days, I attempted to work in the space two days straight a couple of weekends ago. It was very slow-moving work (applying the radiant barrier mixed with paint by roller), and my clothes were entirely drenched with sweat, as if I had jumped into a pool. I knew I had to call it a day at about 1:00 on Saturday afternoon, when I found myself sitting on a plank between two ceiling joists feeling so sluggish that I considered taking a nap inside the attic.
I'll be back attic, and I'll defeat you. But on rainy days when the sun has not baked through the roof all morning.
2. My best solution in the what-baby-stuff-to-register-for crisis (See prior post) is this: Register for almost everything and then return to the store the things you don't use. Seriously, it was really hurting my head for a while, trying to figure out a way to be a minimalist at the whole raising a baby thing. Trouble is: I've never raised a baby. I've only seen other people do it, and I've never seen anyone else do it in a way that I would consider even close to minimalist. Plus, I know many family and friends are going to buy us lots of stuff, whether we register for it or not. So I've decided (and I think Meaghan agrees) that we're going to err on the side of getting things, and then when we see what we are not using we'll take that stuff back to the store.
That's not so much a lesson learned from day-to-day experience as a decision to escape my usual indecisiveness.
3. In any garden or area of self-installed landscaping, the most expensive plants always die first. This is a repeat lesson, exactly the same as the one nature taught us last summer, but we had hoped this time it would be different. Of the various flowers, bushes and ferns we set out this year (not an overall expensive lot, mind you), the only ones making any effort to continue flourishing are the absolutely cheapest white flowers in the garden. There is one fern on the front porch that continues to do well, looking like its own miniature rainforest, while its counterpart (which received the exact same watering treatment) is the equivalent of Charlie Brown's twig of a Christmas tree.
I suppose maybe the real lesson here should be: Plants die without water. We are pitifully neglectful about watering our plants. If I do go to the trouble of ever planting a vegetable garden in my yard, I will most certainly have to install some of those drip-irrigation hoses to keep it watered.
4. Wherever there's a hole in a fence that you're pretty sure your dog can't get out, the dog will most certainly get out. Maybe two days in a row. Especially if that dog is Jewels.
No worries; we got her back. She had just gone next door to visit another dog. And the hole is officially repaired now. She's not getting out at that spot again unless she learns to use a pry bar and pop the nails loose. I'm pretty sure.
5. Gently jogging a couple times a week on an indoor track is poor preparation for running a very hilly 5K road race. Seriously. Some of you may be familiar with a certain hill topped by a tower topped by a clock. Well, try running up that hill in the middle of a 5-kilometer footrace. It hurts. I haven't been that sore in a long time.
That's pretty much all. I hope that, deep down, I have learned much more valuable lessons than these in the last several weeks, but they're escaping my mind at the moment.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Is it sad that I'm excited about diapers?
A quick prologue here: I realize it will be tempting to comment on this post with a simple, "Yes. Yes, it is." Resist that temptation, or risk having your comment deleted by the administrator (that's me). I'm looking for something a little more thoughtful, despite the forbidden yes/no-question title.
The wife and I have recently discovered that there's a whole lot of crap out there for babies. Mostly plastic crap.
Crap for them to sit in, sleep in, ride in, drink out of, eat out of, pee in, vomit on, swing from, make noise with, chew on, and of course crap for them to crap in. I shouldn't really say we've "discovered" this abundance, because we kind of already knew about it. We had been to stores before and seen much of this crap in passing, but the reality sank in hard when we recently visited an area megalo-store (whose name started with a "Tar" in case anyone is wondering) to begin creating a baby gift registry.
Apparently some kind, generous people whom we know and in some cases share DNA markers with are planning to buy gifts for us to be used for the baby's benefit. (In reality, probably just a few of them are kind and generous, while many others will feel obligated by some ancient tribal tradition to buy tiny baby outfits by the case-full, complete with cute shoes that the child will never wear. Regardless, the point is: we'll get stuff.)
So, to help them select this stuff to get us... well, we select it for them, walking around the store(s) with a little barcode-scanning gun to compile an electronic list.
The point of all my rambling is that we, as first-time parents and wanna-be environmentalists, had no idea how to distinguish the stuff that we'll really need from the stuff that Gerber just really wants to sell us. (Good environmentalists don't buy stuff just because Gerber tells them to.)
Meaghan did find several articles on the Internet on the subject --- the general theme of which was the baby mostly just wants to eat, sleep and be loved, so don't stress about the stuff. It was morale-boosting advice, but didn't really get us any closer to deciding whether to buy one car seat with two snap-on bases (one for each car), or two car seats, or a car seat-stroller "travel system", or a car seat that's adjustable for all stages of baby-toddler-young childhood.
The good news is -- and this is the uber-dorky variety of excitement of which you were warned -- we have found an earth-friendly alternative in the diaper category that I can feel really good about as a parent-to-be. (Do I need to stick the word "advertisement" in tiny print at the top of this post? Cause that last sentence sounded like one of those "advertorial" letters in a cheap magazine -- you know, you get halfway through the letter and then realize it's about how some nutritional supplement changed this woman's life and saved her marriage.)
We have decided we're going to use gDiapers. (Cue the dramatic music.)
This crowd can immediately see the problem with standard disposable diapers, I'm sure. You do an awful lot of disposing, not to mention the ills of the plastic manufacturing process. I read that diapers are something like the No. 3 single largest contributor to U.S. landfill waste, an annual dump of 3.5 million tons of poop and plastic (but that came from the gDiapers website, so the data might be skewed for impact).
gDiapers look to be an excellent alternative to the disposables (says the guy who really has no idea how much work this whole diapering process will require). As explained on the website, though, it looks like the changing process is not much different from disposables.
The gDiapers are outer cotton pants, with an inner protective liner and then a refill liner. The refill liner is meant to catch all the pee and poop, in most cases. (Sometimes there's leakage or squishing, as with any diaper. A gross truth of child-rearing that I somehow already know.)
So at each changing, you just tear out the refill liner and flush it down your toilet. The main liner stays put (unless there was leakage or squishing) and you just put in a new refill liner. You wash the outer pants and main liner as needed; the frequency of washings will depend on how many pairs of the pants you have.
There's nothing to throw away! It's fantastic! It's earth-friendly. It's... it's... greentastic!
OK, calming down...
The refill liners actually are made of fluffed wood pulp with some standard absorbent material, so they can be flushed or thrown away if you've got old plumbing that gets clogged easily. We'll see what works at our place, which does have old plumbing, I'm afraid. But, even if you do have to throw the refills away, they're biodegradable, so much so that you can actually compost the wet ones in your own home compost pile. (Not the poopy ones. Don't compost the poop of any being that eats meat or dairy.)
Not only do we escape the guilt of producing a lot of waste this way (and hopefully keep a lot of stink out of our trash cans), but the materials are safer for baby's health. No plastic, no bleaching used in manufacturing, and so on.
I suspect these gDiapers will end up costing us a little more than disposables, but probably not much more in the long run, since the flushable refill liners are the only piece that we'll have to keep buying over and over. The cotton pants seems somewhat expensive, at $17 to $19 a pair, although we can get a little break by buying the "starter kit".
Regardless, the cost won't be exorbitant (any more so than other diaper options) and I'm happy to be going with this option. I hope the concept will catch on quickly in the U.S. Apparently gDiapers originated in Australia, where they're already fairly popular.
It will be great peace of mind for me that Mickey, my environmental conscience, won't be scolding me in my head every time I change a diaper.
So, if you come across any other marvelous green innovations (how about greenovations? yes? no?) in baby-raising equipment, send them my way.
The wife and I have recently discovered that there's a whole lot of crap out there for babies. Mostly plastic crap.
Crap for them to sit in, sleep in, ride in, drink out of, eat out of, pee in, vomit on, swing from, make noise with, chew on, and of course crap for them to crap in. I shouldn't really say we've "discovered" this abundance, because we kind of already knew about it. We had been to stores before and seen much of this crap in passing, but the reality sank in hard when we recently visited an area megalo-store (whose name started with a "Tar" in case anyone is wondering) to begin creating a baby gift registry.
Apparently some kind, generous people whom we know and in some cases share DNA markers with are planning to buy gifts for us to be used for the baby's benefit. (In reality, probably just a few of them are kind and generous, while many others will feel obligated by some ancient tribal tradition to buy tiny baby outfits by the case-full, complete with cute shoes that the child will never wear. Regardless, the point is: we'll get stuff.)
So, to help them select this stuff to get us... well, we select it for them, walking around the store(s) with a little barcode-scanning gun to compile an electronic list.
The point of all my rambling is that we, as first-time parents and wanna-be environmentalists, had no idea how to distinguish the stuff that we'll really need from the stuff that Gerber just really wants to sell us. (Good environmentalists don't buy stuff just because Gerber tells them to.)
Meaghan did find several articles on the Internet on the subject --- the general theme of which was the baby mostly just wants to eat, sleep and be loved, so don't stress about the stuff. It was morale-boosting advice, but didn't really get us any closer to deciding whether to buy one car seat with two snap-on bases (one for each car), or two car seats, or a car seat-stroller "travel system", or a car seat that's adjustable for all stages of baby-toddler-young childhood.
The good news is -- and this is the uber-dorky variety of excitement of which you were warned -- we have found an earth-friendly alternative in the diaper category that I can feel really good about as a parent-to-be. (Do I need to stick the word "advertisement" in tiny print at the top of this post? Cause that last sentence sounded like one of those "advertorial" letters in a cheap magazine -- you know, you get halfway through the letter and then realize it's about how some nutritional supplement changed this woman's life and saved her marriage.)
We have decided we're going to use gDiapers. (Cue the dramatic music.)
This crowd can immediately see the problem with standard disposable diapers, I'm sure. You do an awful lot of disposing, not to mention the ills of the plastic manufacturing process. I read that diapers are something like the No. 3 single largest contributor to U.S. landfill waste, an annual dump of 3.5 million tons of poop and plastic (but that came from the gDiapers website, so the data might be skewed for impact).
gDiapers look to be an excellent alternative to the disposables (says the guy who really has no idea how much work this whole diapering process will require). As explained on the website, though, it looks like the changing process is not much different from disposables.
The gDiapers are outer cotton pants, with an inner protective liner and then a refill liner. The refill liner is meant to catch all the pee and poop, in most cases. (Sometimes there's leakage or squishing, as with any diaper. A gross truth of child-rearing that I somehow already know.)
So at each changing, you just tear out the refill liner and flush it down your toilet. The main liner stays put (unless there was leakage or squishing) and you just put in a new refill liner. You wash the outer pants and main liner as needed; the frequency of washings will depend on how many pairs of the pants you have.
There's nothing to throw away! It's fantastic! It's earth-friendly. It's... it's... greentastic!
OK, calming down...
The refill liners actually are made of fluffed wood pulp with some standard absorbent material, so they can be flushed or thrown away if you've got old plumbing that gets clogged easily. We'll see what works at our place, which does have old plumbing, I'm afraid. But, even if you do have to throw the refills away, they're biodegradable, so much so that you can actually compost the wet ones in your own home compost pile. (Not the poopy ones. Don't compost the poop of any being that eats meat or dairy.)
Not only do we escape the guilt of producing a lot of waste this way (and hopefully keep a lot of stink out of our trash cans), but the materials are safer for baby's health. No plastic, no bleaching used in manufacturing, and so on.
I suspect these gDiapers will end up costing us a little more than disposables, but probably not much more in the long run, since the flushable refill liners are the only piece that we'll have to keep buying over and over. The cotton pants seems somewhat expensive, at $17 to $19 a pair, although we can get a little break by buying the "starter kit".
Regardless, the cost won't be exorbitant (any more so than other diaper options) and I'm happy to be going with this option. I hope the concept will catch on quickly in the U.S. Apparently gDiapers originated in Australia, where they're already fairly popular.
It will be great peace of mind for me that Mickey, my environmental conscience, won't be scolding me in my head every time I change a diaper.
So, if you come across any other marvelous green innovations (how about greenovations? yes? no?) in baby-raising equipment, send them my way.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Guess what's growing in my wife's uterus
Some (if not all) of you have already read about this over at Whatever Happened to Schoolhouse Rock, but just for the record: we're having a boy.
We took this as good news, since now the lone nephew on my side of the family will have another boy to play with at family gatherings as he grows up. Also we had already settled on a name for a boy, whereas we were still debating girl names. (Logan Matthew, by the way. You already know all this. There's no suspense here.) Plus, Meaghan confessed she was a little nervous at the prospect of raising a girl, especially through the teenage years, and she's even more excited than I am about traditional boy things like Little League.
More "for the record" stuff: we would have been happy about a girl too, probably for slightly different reasons. Most importantly, the baby appears to have all his parts in all the right places.
It's amazing what you can see on the most basic "level 1" ultrasound. The technician verified a beating heart, with four properly divided chambers. She pointed out specific parts of the brain, the names of which I've forgotten now. She showed us that the spine has appropriately formed inside the skin.
And, of course, he's got the usual twig and berries that make him a him, and he was not a bit shy about showing them off for the "camera".
So, I think this officially puts us in the second half of the pregnancy. Roughly 20 weeks (give or take a week) down and roughly 20 more to go.
Then, it's on to the easy part -- raising the child.
We took this as good news, since now the lone nephew on my side of the family will have another boy to play with at family gatherings as he grows up. Also we had already settled on a name for a boy, whereas we were still debating girl names. (Logan Matthew, by the way. You already know all this. There's no suspense here.) Plus, Meaghan confessed she was a little nervous at the prospect of raising a girl, especially through the teenage years, and she's even more excited than I am about traditional boy things like Little League.
More "for the record" stuff: we would have been happy about a girl too, probably for slightly different reasons. Most importantly, the baby appears to have all his parts in all the right places.
It's amazing what you can see on the most basic "level 1" ultrasound. The technician verified a beating heart, with four properly divided chambers. She pointed out specific parts of the brain, the names of which I've forgotten now. She showed us that the spine has appropriately formed inside the skin.
And, of course, he's got the usual twig and berries that make him a him, and he was not a bit shy about showing them off for the "camera".
So, I think this officially puts us in the second half of the pregnancy. Roughly 20 weeks (give or take a week) down and roughly 20 more to go.
Then, it's on to the easy part -- raising the child.
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