The Kate Chronicles

The Supreme Court Hearings

I have a lot of empathy for Sonia Sotomayor. Of course, according to some Republicans, "empathy" is now a negative trait, synonymous with "bias" or "bleeding heart." But hey - what do you expect from a Wise, White, German/English/Polish/Irish/Scottish/Russian Woman like myself?

Even though I know that the confirmation hearings are political theater, they are still making me crazy. How dare the Republicans rail against "judicial activism." The decisions that have been rendered by the Justices nominated by Republican presidents have reached farther into the personal lives of Americans than I could have ever imagined. 

As a longtime journalist, I know how preposterous it is to suggest that people don't bring their life experiences to their work. All the white men in the Senate and on the Court do, Thurgood Marshall did, Clarence Thomas does (though in a pretty twisted way) and so, thank God, do the women who have served on the Court. The only thing that saved Roe v. Wade was Sandra Day O'Connor's objection to part of a Pennsylvania law that would have forced married women to inform their husbands before getting an abortion.(She famously asked why women lost their constitutional protections when they married.)  And Ruth Ginsberg noted that she may have a bit more understanding than her male colleagues about why is was particularly humiliating for a 13-year-old girl to be strip searched in her public school.

Grrrrrr. I know Sotomayor will likely be confirmed. But Grrrrr........

Moms and Sons

Yesterday I transcribed my notes from my discussion with the moms up in Maine. Here are a few quotes to give you a flavor of how mothers talk about their relationships with their sons:

"On my son's first day of school, I was working. His Dad was working at home. I called and asked, "How was his first day of school?" My husband said, "Fine." When I got home, I cuddled with my son and asked him how school was. All of the sudden his face changed and he opened up about things that upset him. He just tells me things."

"It's all fine and good to suggest that men become the models of emotional intelligence. But if that's Mom's department, why isn't it more celebrated?

"Why do all the mothers die in movies?"

"I worry that [the physical affection] is too much, especially with my 10-year-old. I feel like I need to pull back from that relationship. When I lay down and rub his back, he responds like he's an infant. My husband doesn't do this with my kids."

"My oldest son is 13. I adore him. We're so close. He's gives me clear advice. He'll lie down with me. Even when I talk to my closest friends about how close I am to my son, they say, 'don't you think you should stop?'"

"My mother has to some degree lost my brother. My sister-in-law calls the shots about how much time they spend with the family. I have friends who feel they've lost their boys to their wives. The relationship just gets thinner."

Lots of themes, lots of food for thought....

Maine, The Book and The Boy

I'm home, after 1300 + miles in the car in 5 days. On our trip from Maine to New York this weekend, I managed to talk to My Sis on the cell phone through 3 states - Maine into New Hampshire into Massachusetts. (You'd think we would have covered everything on our Sister Trip, but evidently not...) As icing on the cake, I caught up with My Daughter from Massachusetts into Connecticut. Gotta love those unlimited calling plans.

Anyway, Maine was great. The women from Boys to Men were very helpful - we had a particularly interesting discussion about the role of Moms and the violence that is so prevalent in our sons' lives.  If it sounds abstract, it was anything but - real world stories about how insecure we are in helping our sons navigate bullying on the playground (is this Dad territory? Should we stay out of it and let Dad teach him how to fight? Why is it that when things turn physical, we feel so out of our league as mothers?) Then there were the gender issues. So what if our young son wants to wear pink shoes? We don't really believe there are "boy colors" and "girl colors." But do we feel so strongly about it that we'll keep quiet and let our sons take a beating on the playground?

It was a great cross section of Moms - some the mothers of toddlers, some with grown children. There were lawyers and teachers and therapists and all in all a lot of insightful women who were very helpful.

The next day The Weatherman and I went to visit The Boy, who I found to be a bit beleaguered. Camp counseling sounds like a breeze, but this year the camp is short-staffed (the economy), it has rained nearly every day,  The Boy has had a cold the entire camp season, and this was only his second day off since June. 

Next week he will probably chaperone some of the half-season boys home and then escort the second season boys back to camp. He will do so with a disposable temperature gage. The camp is so worried about Swine Flu that no campers are allowed in if they have a fever. 

But Maine is Maine. Portland is a very cool city and Bridgton, where The Boy's camp is, was beautiful the day we were there - a rare sunny, dry day. The photo today was taken by The Boy from his tent. You can see the classic Maine weather - beautiful sunset, with impending storm clouds on the right.

On The Road Again....

No sense in unpacking my toiletry bag. My Sis and I returned to New York from our annual sister trip yesterday afternoon. But this morning The Weatherman and I are heading up to Maine. 

The trip is a combination of business and pleasure. Late this afternoon I am meeting with a group of women from an organization based in Portland called Boys To Men. I love the sentence under their logo: "Exploring how to get there in one piece."

The mission of the group is to reduce violence among boys. They're trying to support the healthy adolescent development of boys as well as to increase community awareness about the specific needs of boys.

I'm meeting with the mother's advisory group for the organization, and needless to say I am very interested to hear their thoughts about the mother-son relationship. The organization deals with a lot of the issues I plan to address in my book, including how traditional media and cultural representations inform our views of masculinity.(Naturally, I think these images also heavily influence the lens through which we view mother-son relationships.)

They are also planning a mother-son conference, so you can imagine how grateful I am that they are willing to share their time and thoughts with me.

As icing on the cake, tomorrow I will be visiting my own son, a.k.a. The Boy, who is working as a camp counselor in Maine this summer. It's all good. 

Sis Trip Continues....

Boy, the Berkshires are beautiful. It's not like I didn't go to college here for four years, but when you return as a tourist and on a perfect summer day, it's a very different experience.

We arrived in Williamstown yesterday in time to take a long walk around campus. We felt just like stuffy old foggies as we expressed our disapproval for all the changes that had been made, i.e. ugly modern buildings next to the brick, ivy-covered edifices we were more used to. 

We barely dodged getting drenched by a brief but violent thunderstorm. Then we went to the Clark Art Institute. There was a show exploring the influence of the artist Arthur Dove on Georgia O'Keefe. Honest to God, we are not SUCH old foggies, but we preferred the permanent collection, particularly the impressionists.

Last night we saw a production of "The Children" at the Williamstown Theater Festival (which goes by its initials WTF which cracks me up). It turns out the playwright, A.R. Gurney, is a Williams alum. The drama is suggested by the John Cheever story, "Goodbye, My Brother," and it takes place on the terrace of a summer house on an island off the New England coast.

There's nothing like watching a dysfunctional family drama with your sis to spark some great conversation, particularly when we had differing perspectives on the ne'er-do-well brother.

I haven't mentioned our meals, but they have been plentiful. A sister trip in which you visit a place from both of your pasts while you rake over your own family history could be a play in itself. But I've already written enough this morning....

The Sis Trip Continues

Here is the Inn where My Sis and I are staying. I wanted to feature our room's fire escape - a coiled rope in the corner of the room next to the window. But instead of packing the little wire that allows me to download my photos, I packed the one that let's me update my ipod. Ah well - please enjoy this stock photo of the pretty Red Lion Inn in Stockbridge, Ma. 

We had a nice drive up, the highlight being a good hour of listening and singing along to a cd with all of our old summer camp songs. Next we had a truly inedible lunch. Still hungry, we asked the waitress if there was an ice cream shop in town. She said there was nothing in Stockbridge, we had to drive to the next town. I was willing, but My Sis had some self control. No matter, we walked around the corner and discovered three ice cream places, making us regret the generous tip we'd given the waitress. (At the time, we figured it wasn't her fault that the food was so bad. But misleading us on ice cream opportunities if pretty unforgivable...)

The ice cream cheered us up considerably. Then we took a pretty hike along a river bank. The Inn has a beautiful porch out front, and last night before dinner we had a nice, leisurely glass of wine while doing some great people watching, not to mention raking up all sorts of incidents of our childhood. 

Today we are heading over to Williamstown. We both went to college there and are planning a nostalgic walk around campus, plus a trip to the Clark Art Institute, and we have tickets tonight for the Williamstown Theater Festival. Time to hit the road....

Lay Over

Just got back from the Adirondacks last night. Lots of rain, lots of food, lots of family. I'm home long enough to take a nice long shower, do two loads of laundry and repack. This morning I'm heading up to the Berkshires to spend a few days with my sister. My Sis lives in California and she and I always try to carve out some time alone together each year. 

So far we have bought tickets for the wrong night of a dance festival (for the evening after we've left Massachusetts) and have switched hotels once. And we haven't left yet. Stay tuned...

Off Line

This gorgeous picture was taken last year when I was in the Adirondacks for July 4 with my extended family.

We're heading up there again, but it might not be quite this pretty. The Weatherman has predicted showers for most of the long weekend. I've packed plenty of books along with my hiking boots.

In any event, there is no Internet, cell phone reception or many of the other trappings of modern life up there, so I won't be posting until Monday.

Hope you have a wonderful 4th!

The Appalachian Trail

Really, really, I was going to refrain from blogging about Gov. Mark Sanford and his indiscretions. I am not big on following the personal peccadilloes of politicians and do believe there is such a thing as privacy, even for someone in political life.

But this guy just won't shut up. His confessional complex and his need to trot out more and more details about his "tragic love story" is ridiculous - it's like the guy is still in junior high school. 

Yesterday he told the A.P. that he believed his Argentine lover was his soul mate, and that though he would go to his grave with that knowledge, he was trying to fall back in love with his wife.

What a prize. As a wife myself, I'd say thanks but no thanks to this charming offer. The Weatherman and I love to hike, but if he ever takes that particular Appalachian Trail there will be hell to pay.

Aging

According to a new Pew Research Center poll, aging is not so bad. Then again, it's not so good. Here are a few key findings:

-Old age begins at 68. That's what the average person thinks. But people over 65 said the average person becomes old at 74, while people under the age of 30 believe old age begins at 60.

-You're as old as you feel. About 7 in 10 adults ages 65 or older say they don't feel old. And among those ages 65 to 74, about a third said they feel 10 to 19 years younger, and another 1 in 6 feel at least 20 years younger.

-It's better than you thought. Only a tiny share of adults ages 65 or older say their life turned out worse than expected. Nearly half say it turned out better and the rest say it turned out about as they expected.

-Who's happy and why? Older adults are about as happy as everyone else, and the main predictors of happiness are the same as those in younger adults: good health, good friends and financial security.

Unfortunately from what I can tell about those happiness predictors, there's little you can actually control.