We've all seen the iconic image of "Rosie the Riveter" rolling up her sleeves and proclaiming, "We Can Do It." The image we know was created by Pittsburgh artist Howard Miller. the model was Geraldine Hoff Doyle, a 17-year-old working as a metal stamping machine operator in Ann Arbor.
It's such a powerful image that even though Norman Rockwell later painted a "Rosie the Riveter" cover for Saturday Evening Post, the Miller poster is the one we remember.
And it's also the one that has been used ever since as a symbol of female empowerment by candidates and others on both sides of the political spectrum. During the 2008 campaign, there were several versions using GOP Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin. The visual fit the candidate's roots and persona as a "can do" kinda gal, and you saw a lot of it.
In 2012, there being no women in the running, Michelle Obama has inherited the "We Can Do It" image, which is sometimes captioned "Yes We Can," to echo the motto of her husband's 2008 campaign.
This campaign season, in one way or another, it has been all about the women. Both the Republicans and the Democrats showcased an amazing parade of smart women who represent the best their parties have to offer. It was thrilling to see all of them.
In the immortal words of Dirty Dancing--"Nobody puts Baby in the corner." Women voters will mostly likely decide who will be President come 2013. We can do it. Yes we can.
Friday, September 7, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Quick Cuisine--Curried Brown Rice with Veggies
Photo by Vassilis Dourdounis |
CURRIED BROWN RICE
WITH VEGETABLES AND SUNFLOWER SEEDS
1 cup brown rice
2 cups water
1 bag frozen mixed veggies (corn/peas/carrots/green beans)
Several ounces unsalted sunflower seeds (to taste, really. I like a lot of crunch)
2 TBSP. olive oil
salt to taste (I don't add salt if I'm making this just for myself, but will add it if sharing)
Curry powder to taste (I like a lot, and I use a Madras curry blend)
Prepare the brown rice as usual, but dump in everything else. It will take a little while for the water to come back to a boil because of the frozen veggies but then just turn off and cover as usual.
This will serve two people heartily as a main dish and you only have to spend about five minutes at the stove. It's kind of like fried rice without the egg and the olive oil makes it particularly satisfying.
Little Brother
Four years ago I wrote this story for a contest that challenged writers to come up with a tale about the newly elected president. The winning story was terrific, an interior monologue the President had while smoking a cigarette bummed from a Secret Service Agent. I dug up this story after watching a night full of great speeches given by women at the DNC. Such amazing diversity--and I don't mean ethnicity and race and creed. Sister Simone Campbell and Cecile Richards. (I remember Governor Ann Richards and think she would be very proud of her daughter.) And I thought of the women who broke the ground for the women who were at the podium tonight. The narrator in this story is one of those women who came before--a woman who once gave a keynote speech at the DNC herself.
This is the only piece of political fiction I've ever written.
This is the only piece of political fiction I've ever written.
Little Brother
President Barack Obama came to Austin today.
Austin
loves him. When he and Joe Biden came
through on the Obama-Rama campaign stop last year, the whole town went
crazy. This year the welcome is a bit
more subdued, but still enthusiastic.
He is here to make a speech and as he passed through the
main terminal of the Austin-Bergstrom
International Airport,
there were some who expected he would stop for a photo opportunity and maybe
mention me. Instead he joked with
reporters about football and kept moving.
Well he was preaching to the choir there. The reporters were all local boys and Texas is football
country after all. We’re known for
it. That and birthing beauty
queens.
I don’t begrudge the slight. He’s a man in a hurry, that
Obama and if talking foolishness with a couple of good ol’ boys is what it
takes to play the game, then so be it. The
game was different in my time but I still played to win, even when I knew the
odds were stacked against me. When I was
mentioned as a possible running mate for Jimmy Carter in 1976, I knew that was
never going to happen and just accepted it.
Although it would have been nice to be asked.
I didn’t go to Harvard Law school like the President,
although Harvard started accepting my kind back in 1950. Instead I got my degree from Boston University
Law School
and then went home to Texas
before getting involved in politics. John
Connally was governor then. He was a man
I could work with. Not like Dolph
Briscoe who was a Democrat too but acted more like a Republican sometimes.
We butted heads over the Voting Rights Act of 1965. You remember, that was the one that extended
the rights of language minorities. Dolph
didn’t really see the point. Well, he
wouldn’t, would he? I didn’t find much
to admire about the second president from Texas but I’ll say this. He spoke Spanish like a native and could
communicate with all his constituents
back when he was governor.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Brilliant Marketing Ploy--The Mug Shots from Copper
I am a sucker for great marketing ploys--yes, I'm the person who would have sent in box tops to get a decoder ring, and Copper has come up with a dandy. I've been tracking BBC America's show Copper since it was first announced and I'm liking it more and more with each episode. I know the era and the setting pretty well from my own research and I love that the writers are taking the time to use period slang that's accurate and bring up events from the time that aren't completely obvious.
The gimmick? You can upload your photo to their website and turn a photo of yourself into a vintage mug shot.
I had two thoughts when I saw the results. One, I really look like my brother in drag; and two, this must be what it's like to be a face transplant patient.
Check it out. On the left is the original vintage mug shot.
Below left is the color photo I used. Note, we have nearly identical noses. And the final result is to the right. I find it...strangely fascinating.
There weren't enough letters to spell out Kat the Blade, which is an inside joke among my geekier friends. (Like I can point geeky fingers at anyone.) If you want to see what you'd look like as a 19th century felon, check out Mugshot Yourself on the Copper site.
The gimmick? You can upload your photo to their website and turn a photo of yourself into a vintage mug shot.
I had two thoughts when I saw the results. One, I really look like my brother in drag; and two, this must be what it's like to be a face transplant patient.
Check it out. On the left is the original vintage mug shot.
Below left is the color photo I used. Note, we have nearly identical noses. And the final result is to the right. I find it...strangely fascinating.
There weren't enough letters to spell out Kat the Blade, which is an inside joke among my geekier friends. (Like I can point geeky fingers at anyone.) If you want to see what you'd look like as a 19th century felon, check out Mugshot Yourself on the Copper site.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Sunday Sample Story: Death of a Dancer
This story appears in my new collection The Poisoned Teat, which is still not up at Amazon, although it is available from Smashwords. It's an urban fantasy/noir about a working class vampire in love. It is sparkle-free.
DEATH OF A
DANCER
Most of what
people think they know about vampires is a lot like what people think they know
about American history—a skein of lies tangled up with half-truth and wishful
thinking and fanciful notions.
Not every vampire
is handsome.
Not every vampire
is rich.
Not every vampire
is ancient.
In 2008 I was 19
years old and stocking shelves in a 24-hour convenience store when a vampire
strolled in for a midnight snack and left me permanently working the night
shift.
And I did have to work. Even with groceries
taken out of my monthly budget, I still had to cover rent and cable and my WoW
subscription, and my cell phone bill.
All vampires are
rich? That’s a laugh.
I’ve maybe saved a
hundred a month since my blood-birthday and even after four years, that isn’t
exactly serious money.
There isn’t much
chance I’m going to be making bank any time soon, either. Having to work at
night severely limits my employment options. And then there’s the vampire
sensitivity to garlic—I can’t even work as a pizza delivery guy.
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