I finished putting Farrah’s name on her stocking just in time! I was actually asked to put it on both sides, but hopefully one side will be sufficient. I can add the other side after Christmas. And maybe straighten out the “h”. I’m not very happy with the way that came out. Actually, I’m not very happy with the whole thing. But hopefully M and Farrah will be happy with it — that’s what’s important.

As always, click on the picture to embiggen.

Former New York police commissioner Bernard Kerik has abruptly withdrawn his nomination for Homeland Security Secretary.

Kerik said in a withdrawal letter to Bush that he had suddenly discovered that there were questions regarding the immigration status of his housekeeper and nanny. He apparently discovered the problems while filling out the documents required for Senate confirmation.

Homeland Security oversees Immigration.

Oops.

Quoth Kerik:

I uncovered information that now leads me to question the immigration status of a person who had been in my employ as a housekeeper and nanny. It has also been brought to my attention that for a period of time during such employment required tax payments and related filings had not been made.

Hmmmm… no employment taxes paid, either. I wonder how that little detail escaped his mind?

In what is sure to be hailed by teenagers everywhere as a landmark decision, the Washington State Supreme Court has ruled that even kids have privacy rights and can expect that their private conversations will not be snooped on.

Four years ago, Carmen Dixon was having a tough time with her daughter Lacey, then 14. Quoth Dixon:

I just believe you have the right to know what your kids are doing and who they’re doing it with. We were having a hard time with her as a teenager. She was sort of out of control. [Monitoring her phone calls was] the way I could keep track of what she was up to.

Four years ago, two boys knocked down an elderly Friday Harbor woman, breaking her glasses, and snatching her purse. Lacey’s boyfriend at the time, Oliver Christensen, was a suspect in the case. Sheriff Bill Cumming asked Carmen Dixon to be alert for any evidence. When Lacey chose to take a call from Christensen behind her closed door, Dixon became suspicious and used a speaker phone in another room to eavesdrop. And she took notes while Christensen admitted knowing where the stolen purse was. It was Dixon’s testimony in court that convicted Christensen to 9 months in jail.

Christensen’s lawyer argued that it is against the law to snoop on any conversation, and even children have a right to privacy. Citing provisions in Federal wiretapping lawas, attorneys for the state maintained that children have a reduced right to privacy because parents have an absolute right to monitor all calls that come into their home. The court sided with Christensen.

In the court’s opinion, Justice Tom Chambers wrote:

The Washington act, with its all-party consent requirement, contains no such parental exception and no Washington court has ever implied such an exception. We decline to do so now.

It’s a good thing I live in Oregon. I told # 1 son long ago, and frequently since, that nobody living in my house should have any expectation of privacy. For a long time I screened both his phone calls and his internet chat. He hated that I did so because “none of the other parents do that.” For the most part the conversations were the typical teenage stuff, but every now and then I learned some things that became useful or that I needed to deal with.

At 16 he doesn’t need the same kind of monitoring. But if I had to do it over again, I’d do exactly the same thing.

No matter how involved a parent is with their child(ren), there comes a time when teenagers don’t want to talk to their parents — or at least don’t want to talk about “important” things. That’s OK, because kids have to grow up. Part of growing up is growing away, and that means that some things are kept private. But parents also have a need, and a right, to know what’s going on with their kids.

It’s hard to balance a child’s right to privacy with a parent’s need to know, just like it’s hard to balance a child’s desire for absolute freedom with their need for guidance.

But in my house, if I need to know there is no privacy, and freedom is gained by proving that it can be handled appropriately.

Yesterday morning I heard that Jerry Scoggins died, at the age of 93.

Scoggin’s baritone, along with pickin’ from Lester Flatt and Earl Scruggs, brought us The Ballad Of Jed Clampett, the theme song for The Beverly Hillbillies. And since I read this, that’s the song that’s been the background music to the movie of my life that’s playing through my head…

Come listen to my story ’bout a man named Jed
A poor mountaineer, barely kept his family fed
Then one day he was shootin’ at some food
When up through the ground come a bubblin’ crude

Oil that is. Black gold. Texas tea.

Well… it’s better than having Grandma Got Runover By A Raindeer going through my head, which it’s threatening to do…

On the way home last night, # 1 son informed me that not only did I fail to successfully schmooze with the right people, I wasn’t stylin’ either. If I want to get ahead in my career, then according to #1 Son I needed a few obvious additions to my wardrobe.

There followed a safari to Meier & Frank at Washington Square in search of what he insisted are my most pressing needs: (1) the perfect button-down shirt, (2) the perfect black jacket and (3) the perfect necktie, all to combine with black slacks I already had at home.

I usually hate going to malls during the holidays. But either we were there at just the right time of day or this shopping season is not going as well as the merchants would hope, because we had no trouble finding a parking place reasonably close. Nor did we have to fight our way through the racks of clothes or wait in line for hours to use a dressing room. There were shoppers there, but it wasn’t crowded. And there was an awesome sale going on.

I have to admit that #1 Son is a lot of fun to shop with. He’s relatively patient and also very honest, with comments like: That looks good, try that on. and I’m not seeing that, mom, but it might be worth a try. and No. That’s ugly and will look terrible on you. Plus pointers on what I needed to be really stylin’.

Honesty is a good thing.

I ended up with a white shirt — not button down, but a good shirt nonetheless — the perfect black jacket, a great peach and blue striped shirt, a black sweater and a long, black sweater coat sort of thing. Upstairs #1 Son suggested a black and purple tie in a geometric pattern. What with the sale and a coupon that was available at the register, the prices were really, really good. ($50 shirt for $9 — yep that’s not a typo — nine dollars. I love sales.)

This morning I looked really, really stylin’, oh yes I did. And new clothes are such an ego-boost.

Now I need to find the perfect pair of amethyst earrings to go with that tie…

People have different responses to the end of a relationship. Steven Coleman’s is very different.

Steven Coleman is certainly upset with his ex girfriend. Not knowing the circumstances surrounding their break-up, it’s hard to know exactly why he is so unhappy with her. But the strength of his emotion is evident.

Apparently motivated by a desire to share his unhappiness with his ex, Coleman threw two Molotov cocktails at her Dover, NH, apartment building last Saturday night. The home-made bombs — made from gasoline-filled Budweiser bottles plugged with rags — did little damage, since it appears he forgot to light the fuses. But one of them did break, sending fumes into nearby apartments and causing two residents to seek treatment for breathing problems.

Concerned with making a clean getaway after the attempted bombing, Coleman jumped on what I assume was the closest available transport: A lawnmower. Dover police were contacted and began a brief slow-speed chase.

Quoth Dover prosecutor George Wattendorf:

[At one point during the chase, Coleman] turned around and looked directly at [a police cruiser]. Coleman appeared calm as he was smoking a cigarette.

Perhaps he meant to use the cigarette to light the Molotov cocktails, but that little detail escaped him?

Capture by police was a slightly larger detail that Coleman did not escape. The police officers finally got out of their car and walked towards him. Coleman turned himself in, claiming that he had just come from a convenience store. He was arraigned Monday on charges of criminal trespass, attempted arson, and resisting arrest. He could get up to 31 years if convicted on all charges.

Think of the marketing possibilities for Budweiser and the makers of the mower:

– This Bud’s for you… and your ex.
– Budweiser, the King of Molotov.

What ad campaigns can you think of?