The Silent "I"

You Can Call Me Glennia Hussein Campbell

Over at MOMocrats, we're standing in solidarity with Barack Obama today against right-wing nutjobs who think that a person's name is fair game in their never-ending battle to take the American political process right into the crapper.  We're calling it "Just Call Me Hussein" day, and telling our name stories. 

Go over to MOMocrats and read the post that inspired this little impromptu blog action, and blog about it today, use "Hussein" as your name, or leave a comment with your story. 

This is my story and I'm sticking to it.

Long-time readers of this blog (all three of you) know that the reason this blog is called "The Silent I" is that the "i" in my name is silent.  Yes, my name is pronounced "Glenna", but I have gone through life being called, alternately,  "Glen-nee-ya," "Glen-ya," and my favorite: "Glen-NIGH-ya" (think Shania, as in Shania Twain). 

Telemarketers seem to have particular difficulties in pronouncing it, and it comes out, "Glenina," "Glenda," or "Glennis."  This came in handy in my twenties, when I was avoiding those calling about my late student loan payments, and would say, "Nobody named 'Glenenis' here."

I grew up in the '70's and at the time, there was a popular TV variety show hosted by country singer, Glen Campbell.  He had the annoying habit of opening the show with "HOW-DEEEEE, I'm Gleeeeeyun Campbellll!"  Needless to say, I heard that "Howdeee!" refrain on the playground a lot.  A whole freaking lot.

Even as a young adult, people would often ask if I was either named after Glen Campbell or related to him. (No on both counts).  Luckily, his star faded in the 1980's until a drunk driving arrest brought him back to the spotlight.  Moms, before you name your kid Britney or Madonna or Clooney, think of this as a cautionary tale.

Having a last name that was also a popular brand name did not help matter much either.  "Hey, Soup!" kids would shout, "Are you chicken noodle?  Get it? Chicken? Noodle?  Are you a chicken or a noodle?" har-de-har-har

When you're eight, you know people will find a way to razz you about your name. When you're a 47 year old candidate for President, the first African-American President of the Harvard Law Review, and a member of the United States Senate, it's beyond juvenile and ridiculous to insinuate that you're somehow aligned with terrorists because your parents named you after your father.  Last time I checked, most people outside of Hollywood don't have much say in what their names are. 

You got that, Bill the Pill "Cunnilingus-ham"?

Glennia Hussein Campbell

Another Child for Barack Obama

I was recording a message on why I support Barack Obama, when Alex decided to get into the act.  His message was much better than mine, so I decided to use his.  Click on the arrow in the box to hear Alex's message.  I think Obama should hire Alex as spokesman, don't you?

If you'd like to put a button on your blog or website supporting Obama, Clinton, McCain or Huckabee,  go over to  Utterz and record one.  Thanks to Queen of Spain for the blog tip!

Teaching Compassion

Alex was watching the "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" movie while I was cooking dinner last night.  A commercial came on for a program to help kids in third world countries.  It featured a story of a family with several children, one of whom sometimes opts to go hungry so his little brother can have food.  Normally, Alex doesn't watch commercials, since the magic that is Tivo allows us to fast forward through all those sugary cereals and Bratz dolls ads.  This time, he watched this commercial intently, and ran in to tell me about it.

"Mom! There are kids who don't have food or parents! They don't have schools or medicine!  I need to help them!"  he said.

I asked him if he got the number or the website.  He went back and got his dad to back up the Tivo so he could write down the number.  The next thing I knew, he was on the phone.

"Hello?  I'm calling to help the poor children.  How much does it cost?"  he said.  "Well, my dad is here and he has the money."  My husband got on the phone and found out that the group is called Plan USA, and for $24 a month, you can sponsor a child in a third world country.  They send letters and updates from the kids periodically.  They asked what country we wanted the child to be from, and Alex thought about it.  "Egypt," he said.  He wanted to sponsor a boy from Egypt.

Alex got back on the phone to ask a question.  "When will he be coming to our house?" he said.  They explained that he would not be coming to our house, but we could go visit him.  Alex loved Egypt, so I think he now wants to go back.

Frank hung up the phone and we realized that we knew absolutely nothing about this group or what they did, so we Googled them.  We found a blog post on Mortaine's Blog from a woman who has sponsored several children through Plan USA for 15 years.  It was very reassuring.  I wrote a comment, and she e-mailed me that she was about Alex's age when she first saw the ads for Plan USA and decided to help.  It was one of the best things she has ever done, she said.  After reading her post, we all got very excited about the prospect of hearing about the child.

Over dinner, we talked about what sponsoring this boy meant.  Alex said, "I want to help the poor people not be poor.  Maybe he will find a family, if he's an orphan.  Maybe he'll get medicine if he's sick."

We talked about a boy we met two years ago visiting the Great Sphinx at Giza.  He wore ragged clothes, and the soles of his shoes were barely hanging on.   His smudged little face was streaked with tears, and his older brother was yelling at him.  He was about 7, the age Alex is now.  He was not in school, even though it was a weekday.  He was selling old postcards to tourists for change.  We bought his postcards, and he smiled.  Alex called him his friend.  When they parted, Alex said, "Don't be sad, I love you."  I'm pretty sure the boy did not speak English, but it didn't matter. 

Alex remembered him when I brought it up, though vaguely, and was happy that he was now going to help a child like his postcard seller friend. 

People have often asked us why we have traveled so much with Alex.  The reasons are partly selfish (we love traveling), and partly because we want to educate him that not everyone in the world has the advantages that he has.  Some people have more, but many, many people have less.  Giving him the sense that he can make a difference is a harder lesson, but somehow, I think he's learned it.

Advice for Hillary: Read MOMocrats

I've posted some advice for Hillary Clinton's campaign over on MOMocrats today.  Go check it out, and if you're into Digg, please give it some Digg love.  The MOMocrats have applied for press passes to the Democratic National Convention in August.  One of the things they look at is the blog's "reach," so if you're a blogger, it would help us if you could link to us or put a MOMocrat's button on your sidebar.  You can find the code here.

On Thursday night, I went to a fun blogger event sponsored by Staples with security expert Bill Stanton of The Today Show and Dateline: NBC.  I had a great time with mah girls, but to get the full story, read CityMama's account.  I'll post what we learned from "Wild Bill" later, but the kid has spiked a fever and I have to go do the mom thing.

 

Kids, Don't Make Me Come Over There

I don't know about you, but I've had just about enough of the Hillary-Barack fighting.  This time, Hillary's team is raising a fuss over Obama's use of some phrasing from one of his key supporters, Massachusetts Governor, Deval Patrick.  Hillary's camp is crying "Plagiarism!" while Obama's shrugs it off with a "So what?"

What's next? In the inimitable words of Pee-wee Herman, "I know you are, but what am I?"

It's times like these that I wish I could give the political equivalent of what my Dad used to do to my brothers and me when we were bickering in the backseat of the car:  One swooping hand gesture smacking all three of us on the top of the head.  Dad was the ultimate multitasker, because he could do this while driving 85 miles an hour down the freeway smoking a cigar.  That got our attention, and we usually stopped fighting immediately, because we knew that if he pulled over, somebody was getting left on the side of the road.  (He never actually left us, but we were sure he would if we kept it up).

Barack, give credit where credit is due, otherwise you look like Joe Biden a dork.  Hillary, you're starting to look desperate, and it is not becoming of a future President.  Both of you, just remember that the real opponent in this race is this other guy.  Eyes on the prize, people, eyes on the prize.

Cross-posted at MOMocrats.

Have You Heard of Alltop?

Guy Kawasaki, internet guru, start-up evangelist, purveyor of a thousand good ideas and my friend and yours on Facebook, has started a new news/blog aggregator site called Alltop.com.  He has put together some of the best links from sites on politics, mom blogs, news, and even a section for Mac-oholics.  It's a great place to start for all the day's news, from top political stories to mom stories. 

Guess who is listed on the Moms site?  Yes, that would be me, right there next to Scribbit and This Full House, just below Surrender Dorothy, with all those mom-o-sphere luminaries.  I'm honored to be among such distinguished company.

And, looky there, in politics, right next to Wonkette and MSNBC, way, way above Michelle Malkin, is ... MOMocrats!  Yes, my friends, the MOMocrats rate up there with CNN.  If you are wondering why, check out the postings for Healthcare Day Week.  Kyla's post has been talked about all over the blogosphere, including over at The Health Care Blog.

Belated Valentine

Valentine's Day has come and gone, and though we celebrated in style this year, I wanted to send some love to one of my blogger sisters who is going through a tough time right now.  Divorce is never easy, and when kids are involved, it makes it even harder for everyone.  One of my Seoul Sisters, one of the fabulous Kimchi Mamas, is currently going through this right now. I want her to know that she is not alone, and that I am thinking of her and sending love and support her way.

Hearts are fragile and can be broken, but lucky for us, they mend in time.  Take care of yourself and your beautiful little one.  The love that you hold in your heart for her will see you through the roughest of times.

XOXO

My Funny Valentine

Last year, my husband got a mention in the Atlantic Monthly in their Word Fugitives column seeking a word for men who give over-the-top gifts to their wives.  It stared with the 10 bouquets for 10 Years for our 10th Anniversary.  This year, it was the dinner-and-a-spa for our eleventh.  He's such a romantic, that guy.

On the morning of Valentine's Day this year, as I was hurrying out the door, he said, "You might get a delivery at your office!"

I thought it was sweet that he remembered, and figured it would be some flowers, which would be nice. We got engaged on Valentine's Day 1996, and every year, he has remembered with flowers and dinner.

As far as I was concerned, he had already given me the best Valentine's day present of all time.  He was there with the refrigerator repairman, and the two of them had pulled back the fridge to discover ten years of dirt build-up under the fridge.  He got out a mop and started cleaning it.  I don't think I've ever seen him with a mop in his hand before, and the fact that he didn't just hand it to me was, as the kids say, hot.

I went off to work as he was mopping away.  I was sitting in our usual weekly staff meeting, when the receptionist came in and said, "Glennia, you have a delivery..."

I sort of wondered why she didn't just leave it on my desk instead of interrupting the meeting, when four people trooped in behind her.  There were three men in white tuxedos and a woman in a red dress.  One of the men said, "Who is Glennia?"

My coworkers pointed to me, and they lined up behind me.  One of the men whipped out a pitch pipe and the four sang something like, "I Love You and Only You" in perfect, four-part harmony.  I was stunned, to say the least, and couldn't help but giggle.

They finished their song, and handed me a card and a rose, saying this was from Frank.  Then, they sang, "Let Me Call You Sweetheart."  It was all so sweet and heart-felt I wanted to cry.  The group is called "A Rose Among Thorns" and are part of the Peninsulaires singing group. They are the first co-ed barbershop quartet I've ever seen. 

Later that day, two dozen red and peach roses arrived at my office.   My coworkers were duly impressed.

Still, I can't get over the mop.  That man really knows a way into a woman's heart, and how to keep it as well.

Now I Know How Angelina Jolie Feels

I had to go for my annual mammogram today.  It's one of those extra-special treats that you get after you turn 40, like hot flashes and unsightly hairs that show up in the oddest places.  There's nothing like standing topless and hugging a big, cold hunk of machinery that shoots out radiation while your boobs are being squashed into something resembling IHOP leftovers. 

The very nice technician had to prod my unruly breast onto the plastic plate, all the while telling me to "lift your right arm up, take one step forward, square your shoulders, and then hold your breath."  I did so without complaining, even though I was starting to wonder if this was a mammogram or the Hokey-Pokey we were doing here.

After my breast was firmly ensconced between the plastic plates, she stepped back and said, "If you don't mind my asking, weren't you in the newspaper last week?"

"Yes, that was me,"  I replied.  I'm not sure how she recognized me, since in the photo in the paper I happened to be fully clothed. She asked me about MOMocrats (the subject of the article in the San Jose Mercury News) and whether we were all for Obama.  I explained that we had all been for John Edwards, but now some supported Hillary and some supported Obama. 

There's nothing like a political discussion and a mammogram to really make your day.

Speaking of mammograms, click here to go to a site that gives free mammograms to women who can't otherwise afford them.  Consider this a reminder to schedule yours, too.

Disney Comes to The SV

When we went to Los Angeles in January, we didn't have time to stop at Disneyland.  We didn't tell Alex that we were close to the Land of Mouse, otherwise we would have never heard the end of it.  In our travels, we've been to six Disney parks (Disneyland, California Adventure, Disney World, Epcot, Tokyo Disney and Disney Sea), and each one was a memorable experience. 

I think my favorite has to be Disney Sea, the companion park to Tokyo Disney, with it's around-the-world sea coast theme.  It's a truly amazing place, even though Alex threw the mother of all meltdowns at the turn-of-the-century Cape Cod attraction.  Still, it's a place I'd recommend to anyone visiting Tokyo.  I'd love to go back now that he's older and less prone to throwing popcorn out of a stroller at unsuspecting Japanese children.

We were fortunate to be invited to a Disney party this weekend, thrown by the wonderful women of the Silicon Valley Moms Blog and Disney.  When I told Frank about it, he said, "What exactly does one do at a Disney party?"

I had to admit, I had no idea.