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Lately, I’ve been wondering to what extent my political worldview was influenced by my parents and my environment when I was a child. Are my beliefs truly my own? Or am I simply regurgitating what I happened to soak in during my formative years? The same set of questions can be asked of anyone with political opinions: is what you believe truly “original”?

I see three possible outcomes, with the first two being the most likely:

• Opinions are formed by childhood indoctrination — the environment — with little or no resistance by the subject
• Opinions come as a direct result of rebellion (typically in the teen years). The subject ends up having opinions at odds with those of his environment.
• The subject forms opinions objectively — with scant indoctrination during the formative years. In this case, the subject’s environment has little or no effect on the subject’s worldview, either positively or negatively.

Rarely is the third outcome given as a explanation of why someone has certain political beliefs. If his environment propagated similar worldviews, then it is likewise credited. But if his environment had dissimilar worldviews, then the subject must have rebelled.

Just when I thought it was safe to eat healthy again, Annie goes to the store and brings back two large containers of ice cream, at least two packages of Pepperidge Farm cookies, a dozen doughnuts, tea cookies, chocolate chip cookies, brownies (with sprinkles), spicy hot potato chips, Boboli pizza dough, two four-packs of Starbucks Frappuccinos, and Lord knows what else. Add to that my new affinity toward Dagoba dark chocolate and Jif peanut butter — and Annie’s propensity toward putting those bite-size chocolate morsels and Reese’s peanut butter cups in little bowls in the living room — it’s a wonder that my body hasn’t completely gone to seed.

On the bright side, at long last my weight now starts with a “1” instead of a “2” (well, at least for this week), so I must be doing something right. Let’s see how long it lasts. Here’s another meaningless graphic for those of you who enjoy such things…

• …in a browser. Ideal specimens, in descending order, are Firefox 3, Opera 9.5, Safari 3.1, Firefox 2, IE7. Browser chrome should be optimized to increase viewable page area. Application(s) should — naturally — be maximized.
• …with an operating system released this decade on a PC manufactured after 2003. An Internet connection speed of at least 200kbps. Memory of at least 512mb. A system not infected with viruses or spyware.
• …with a minimum screen resolution of 1024×768, although 800×600 is still unofficially supported.
• …on a computer monitor with a contrast ratio of at least 600×1, at least 80 candelas per square meter (nits), and an ambient correlated color temperature of approximately 5000K. Ideal monitor connections are, in descending order, HDMI, Display Port, DVI, and VGA. Additionally, other factors will affect viewing, including proper visual perception and adequate room lighting (indirect natural sunlight and/or shielded halogens are recommended).

Additionally, readers should possess a strong command of the English language and should have the ability to detect such subtleties as irony, parody, and attempts at wry humor. Reading this post while under extreme mental anguish or substantial physical pain is not recommended.

The Pretenders’ “My City Was Gone“, known as the bumper music with the killer bass line on Rush Limbaugh’s radio show, has typically been viewed as a protest song: focused on then-president Ronald Reagan’s economic policies. Between the lines, Pretenders’ singer Chrissie Hynde argues that Reagan’s policies (the “government”) contributed to the mall culture in middle America — whereby bedroom communities and open spaces are replaced with big box stores, fast food joints, off-ramps, and strip malls. While there is some validity in protesting against the homogenization of American culture, Hynde’s anger may have been misdirected. Let’s examine if Reagan could have contributed to the injustices that Hynde rails against:

The Budget process of the United States government states that the president shall submit a budget proposal to congress, who will then approve and/or modify the proposal. Reagan’s first budget request was for fiscal year 1982, which started on October 1, 1981.

Since “My City Was Gone” first appeared on wax in October 1982, Hynde only had a small window by which to pen the supposedly anti-Reagan lyrics. Reagan didn’t even take office until January 1981, and his budget wasn’t effective until October of that year. I seriously question the influence that Reagan (and the gridlocked 97th congress) had on new construction contracts in Akron, Ohio between October 1981 and the day that Hynde wrote “My City Was Gone”. For the sake of argument, let’s say spring 1982, although it could have been much earlier. Various sources indicate that the song was written before the death of The Pretenders’ guitarist James Honeyman-Scott which occurred in June of 1982.

In reality, Hynde is lamenting that her Ohio isn’t the Ohio she knew when she was younger. In a perfect world, there should have been a moratorium on all real estate development in Akron, Ohio in 1973 — the year Hynde left for London. It’s becoming apparent that Hynde is railing not only against development and change, but against capitalism and the market economy itself.

A certain confluence of situations has devolved this blog into a near-ghost town. Admittedly, posts of late have been less than superb. About the only bright spots are write-ups (that I didn’t write) and photos (some of which I didn’t take) of our rabbit, Sniff. There’s been some unintentionally funny images and musings that only a mother could write.

Apart from that, posts have been sort of boring. I just don’t have the flair that I once did. I’ve gotten the mindset of not blogging about specific topics because they’ve been done in bigger and better fashion by others. To compound matters, I don’t find my life particularly interesting. Deeply fulfilling, yes — but hardly interesting.

Some authors of topical blogs feel restricted in that they don’t have any leeway in what they can blog about. They blog about one topic, and write well. I have the opposite problem — my site has no true focus, so my posts swing wildly from religious and political musings and random humor to geeky stuff to what I happened to do last weekend. Because I have the freedom to post in any conceivable topic, I post infrequently, and with poor results. I’ve had better luck with Facebook’s status updates, a feature I adore because it enables me to post witty one-liners without all the rigmarole of creating a full-fledged blog post.

My resolution for the summer is to assign myself topics to blog about. I may even ask people to demand that I write a blog post about a specific topic — however obscure or esoteric. Whatever it takes to get out of these doldrums.

I have a comment about the design of the yogurt container. There is no mention that the yogurt must be stirred. I ate about 3/4 of a yogurt before I realized that there was a huge dollop of chocolate at the bottom. Before I discovered the chocolate, I was thinking, “..my, what a bland yogurt!” Perhaps I was just having an off-day.

My suggestion would be to replace the text on the front (“With Imported Cocoa”) with “Chocolate on the bottom”, “Please stir”, or something to that effect.

Furthermore, calling it “imported cocoa” isn’t necessary, as the US doesn’t even grow the cocoa bean. The phrase borders on deception, as some consumers do not know this and assume that “imported” cocoa is a luxury.

Sera Cahoone is an interesting little-known “country” vocalist from the west coast. I first heard her on KEXP (Seattle) and purchased her first self-released album almost immediately thereafter. Her voice isn’t particularly commanding or strong, but it’s very pure and has a certain charm to it. Her band plays down-tempo classic-influenced country with just the right amount of pedal steel guitar and banjo.

Sea Wolf is a newish band — actually a pseudonym for Alex Brown Church, an indie-pop singer/songwriter from LA. I actually just purchased his debut EP (Get to the River Before it Runs Too Low, 2007) a month or so ago; it was only a matter of time before the full-length album came my way. I think what initially drew me to Sea Wolf was the way his songs sounded like sped-up dirges. Church also double- or triple-tracked his vocals on the songs — altogether pleasing to the ears. Further adding to his appeal are at least two songs on the album that specifically mention gypsies!

I’ve told Annie that I love her more with each passing day. While on the surface, that may sound mushy and trite, but there’s actually some truth behind the statement. But the question remains: is this increase in love quantifiable? Would a graphical representation be adequate in estimating the inestimable?

The formula I use is simple: L+((1-L)/D) where L = love and D = divisor. Rules: The initial value for love must be a number between 0 and 1. The divisor must be a number greater than 1. The greater the divisor, the slower the rate of increase in love. For this exercise, the number is totally arbitrary. Actually the number I chose for love is totally arbitrary, too.

The formula calculates the estimated increase in love for each year — not unlike the increasing amount of principal that many of us see on our monthly mortgage statements. One crucial difference is that my calculations are, fortunately, not at all dependent upon the workings of the Open Market Committee of the Federal Reserve. At the current rate of increase, I’m projected to peak sometime in the year 2056.

A week ago, Annie and I took a trip down to Miami, and from there, the Bahamas, to witness the wedding of our friends Emiko and Garin. Despite the bountiful food 24/7 on the cruise ship to Nassau, Annie and I both managed to lose weight — it must have been the numerous walks from our hotel in Miami Beach to South Beach. We’d walk for hours at a time, but we didn’t mind it because of the scenery. Many thanks to Miko and Garin for being the perfect couple and for giving us an excuse to travel the world. Many years of health and happiness to you both.

View photos from the wedding and of our separate trip to Miami after the cruise.

While I was singing and playing the guitar for Annie, Sniff hid under the bed and kept thumping his hind legs. We sounded like a badly rehearsed duet between a guitar and a bass drum. After a while, either my playing had improved or Sniff’s curiosity got the better of him as he came out from under the bed and began to inspect the cause of the ruckus. Pictured: Sniff helps me tune the “G” string, as I was presumably a bit flat.