Family culture is a funny thing. Some families are quietly fond and mannerly. Some are barbed and hostile. Some sweep everything possible under the nearest rug.

As best as I can tell from the inside, I was raised in a family that, besides being loving, was characterized by quick thought and quick wit. I was privileged to be brought up by a father who taught me by example about incisive thinking and constructive verbal engagement. If you weren't prepared to discuss the question, whatever the question happened to be, you didn't have much conversational fun. It wasn't hostile -- it was exploratory. It honed minds and tongues.

I was reminded of this when I read John Leo's recent piece titled Let's Keep Arguing. Leo suggests that what passes for discussion these days is actually partisan shouting to an audience of those who already agree with us.

This cheats us of one of the main benefits of living in a democracy. Raising the level of discourse includes Courtesy as the price of entry. But after that, points go to well-considered, well-articulated argument. More ideas, rather than fewer, are a good thing. (One would hope that colleges and universities would know and espouse this, but evidence suggests the opposite.)

In addition to enriching the thought life of the listener, argument serves the speaker as well. "When a friend launches an argument and your rebuttal starts to sound tinny to your own ears, it shouldn't be that hard to figure out that something's wrong -- usually that you don't really agree with the words coming out of your own mouth. Arguing can rescue us from our own half-formed opinions."

Let's go to it, America.

A delightful young woman named Ambra Nykola writes with great wit and talent on Nykola.com. Her latest post titled Spanking: The Best Way to Save Tax Dollars is a good example of her ability to think and speak for herself. Some lines beg to be quoted:

My name is Ambra, and my parents beat my butt. The preferable term here is "spanking", but within a cultural context, there are many who know the word "beat" is merely an idom and not literal. I come from a long line of corporal punishers. The fact that I say this with so much pride is a bit disturbing. I am still proud to say I am a product of spanking.

I wasn't a bad kid, but I was definitely a smart-mouth (some things never change). If you attempted to reason with me, you would have to enter into a full-out, head-on debate. This was something my mother refused to do and thus she employed other methods to "help" me to obey. Generally speaking, this form of "help" didn't feel good.

One guest on [a talk] show outlined the "steps" she used to discipline her children:
Step 1: You get a warning
Step 2: You get a time-out
Step 3: Privileges are taken away
When I was growing up, we had no steps. It went like this:
Step 1: You do it.
End of story.

My children felt the sting of hand or paddle from time to time. They seem to remember it to have been more frequent than it actually was, which is evidence of a beneficial unintended effect of the occasional application of flat object to round bottom -- the very presence of a credible threat serves to reduce outbreaks of unacceptable behavior.

Hmmm. Sometimes I sound a lot like Ronald Reagan.

It occurs to me that I should post an Official Disclaimer or two on my site just to keep myself out of legal trouble. (I know that no one would ever pick on small fry like this author, but perhaps the implication that I am widely read would impress the occasional passer-by.) The writing of your garden variety "gee whiz, please don't sue me" statement is usually more pedantic and boring than I care for. However, the following example from Blog From the Core caught my eye and made me chuckle.

Citation of, and/or quotation of, articles [from] mainstream-media publications by The Blog from the Core — especially those in The New York Times — assume that the article was written by the one given credit for writing it; that assertions as to the time and place of authorship are true; that assertions of fact in the article are, indeed, factual; that any individuals mentioned or quoted are, indeed, who they are said to be; and, that quotations are substantially correct and were actually said and/or written by the person or persons to whom they are attributed. The Blog acknowledges that this assumption is quite shaky.

OK, I'm jealous. I want some cool disclaimers too, but I'm not interested in the usual legalese. How about this:

It is unreasonable to infer that any of the opinions expressed herein are based on anything more than whimsical intuition or wishful thinking. You may rely on them only at your own risk. I wouldn't, if I were you.

Hmmm. It's a start.

It was quite a day.

* A blissful sleep-in; then finished current book of frivolous reading
* 11:00 a.m. Mass at the Maronite Catholic cathedral downtown St. Louis
* Walked around historic Central West End; bought three used paperbacks from Left Bank Books
* Late lunch with friend at Leadership Center
* Schlepped back to central St. Louis with friend to meet another friend at highly-touted discount shoe store. I was the only person who wasn't really shopping for shoes. I was the only person who bought any (on clearance, mind you)
* Matinee showing of Troy starring Brad Pitt. (Mini-review: spectacular scenery, great costumes, a cast full of beautiful people. Editing was underutilized. Director paid too much attention to war scenes and not enough to making sure he got good performances from his actors. 2 stars.)
* We went to Harrah's Casino to greet mutual friend who was working for the first time as a blackjack dealer. Dinner first at pretty good Italian restaurant. We found out that we needed to sign up for some kind of pass to get into the gambling section, and by the time that got taken care of, friend's shift had ended and she had disappeared.
* We wandered around casino to see what it's all about. All that was missing to make me look like a complete clueless tourist was a camera hanging around my neck. We decided to try a slot machine to see what it was like. I invested $1, won $5, and decided to cash out my winnings while I was ahead.
* We left at the same time a Wayne Newton concert on the grounds was letting out. I had to fight concert traffic to get out of the casino and come home.

I need a rest from all the activity. Maybe a nice quiet day at work...

I chortled when the Huxtables admitted that they loved the first day of school because "we get the house back!". I admit that I am not a big "doter". I love children, particularly my own, but I have a low tolerance for anything sappy.

I might not be alone. For others of my ilk, here's a list of the Top Ten Least Popular Bedtime Stories.**

10. Run, Kids, Run! Keith and Becky Discover Uncle Pete's Hornet Farm

9. And Who Will Help Me Fry The Chicken? - The Colonel teaches Henny Penny A Lesson About Whining

8. A Child's Illustrated Treasury of Rodeo Accidents

7. Nippy the Infectious Chihuahua

6. A Critique of Kantian Metaphysics and Ontological Presuppositions-for Kids!

5. The Day Barney Caught on Fire

4. The Adventures of Milo, the Obnoxious Intestinal Parasite

3. Babaar the Elephant Gets Gunned Down on Safari

2. The Big Red Fire Engine Meets the Little Engine That Could In a Fiery Head-on Collision

1. Otis the Hungry Rottweiler Meets Shaun, the Magically Delicious Leprechaun

** These were required reading at Mean Mother School from which, as my children will tell you, I graduated with honors.

I confess, when it comes to basketball, I'm the worst kind of fair-weather fan. I watched a total of two (2) Pistons games this year. The last two. It doesn't stop me from feeling gleeful, though.

When you wake up this morning, you'll notice a new crown in town. It wasn't stolen. It didn't fall from the sky. The Lakers didn't squander it, and the referees didn't conspire it. The Pistons -- write this verb down -- won it. Got that, Phil? Got that, Shaq and Kobe? They won it. They captured it.

OK, Tigers, it's your turn.

A tradition in my home faith community is to acknowledge Saturday evening as the vigil of the Lord's Day, beginning with a beautiful Christian adaptation of the traditional Jewish Sabbath ceremony. One line is ringing in my head today - offering God thanks for the "joy that has come to us out of our work" during the past week.

I often feel a bit rueful when I hear it. The line makes me think of the swinging of an ax or hammer, putting up preserves, painting a house, toting that barge and lifting that bale on a brisk autumn day where you can do a solid something with tangible results, take a deep satisfied breath, and brush the sawdust off your hands with a sigh of satisfaction.

What is the Work from which I rest on the Lord's Day? I talk to people, hunch over my computer, sit in meetings, develop that flat left ear from lengthy phone conversations, encourage, write and rewrite, grouse, snack and sit.

I'm not sure what to think or say about that. It doesn't feel virtuous. I suppose it's worthwhile, though the connection between work in Corporate American and doing genuine good seems tenuous at best sometimes.

Any thoughts?

Here's a vocabulary quiz for those of you who would like to torture yourselves. I scored 166 out of 200 with lots of wild guesses. Not shabby, but after this many years of practice, one would think I'd have better command of my native language.

Even my most Democratic friend praises the Reagan team though he disagrees with the goals and views they espoused. Peggy Noonan offers an interesting and candid insider's view of Reagan and those who gathered to remember him. Read it.

Among other gems, it contains this passage.

How did Reagan do this? He felt something was true. He studied it; he questioned it; he read about it. He concluded it really was true. But he knew that what was true was unpopular, and it would hurt him if he held it high. He held it high anyway. That was his way of showing his love.

This is a worthy accolade for any public servant.

(Thanks to Dom Bettinelli for the link.)

Yet another reason to tighten up security on our northern border, courtesy of the Watley Review.

Of course, one doesn't have to be Canadian to be shocked that the Cup has been hijacked to Florida. See what Tom of Santificarnos thinks should be done about it.

I've had the chance to tell some of you about this development. It's proof that not all change is bad.

As a result of a company reorganization, I now have a new boss. I no longer work directly for the Leadership Center, but belong to the Organizational Development group, whose members are scattered nationwide. I will be working with the Center as my major customer for now, but I will also move into other responsibilities with various work groups. (Can you say "frequent flier miles"?)

New Boss is very supportive of telecommuting and flexible work. It's entirely possible (though not certain) that I'll be able to remain resident in Ann Arbor and travel to commitments in St. Louis and elsewhere rather than relocating permanently. This, as Martha Stewart would say, is a Good Thing. The situation is still pretty complex (I'd probably be on the road at least half the time), but the chance to live where I belong is a powerful inducement.

So please say a prayer that this works out.

I guess I need something to cuddle today.

***********************

What Color is Your Brain?
brought to you by Quizilla

At work or in school: I like to be with people, sharing with them, inspiring them, and helping them. I work and learn best when I can take into consideration people and the human element. I flourish in an atmosphere of cooperation.
With friends: I always look for perfect love. I am very romantic, and I enjoy doing thoughtful things for others. I am affectionate, supportive and a good listener.
With family: I like to be happy and loving. I am very sensitive to rejection from my family and to family conflicts. I really like to be well thought of and need frequent reassurance. I love intimate talks and warm feelings.

***********************

Sometimes this sort of thing makes me think "Eeeeuuw." Not today, though. The analytic part of me must be on vacation.

Everything that is most precious in life is a form of love.
Art is a form of love if it be noble;
labor is a form of love if it be worthy;
thought is a form of love if it be inspired.

Benjamin Cardozo, Supreme Court Justice, 1931

The author's acronym:

D	Delicate
E	Exhausting
E	Earthy
P	Philosophical
Y	Yum
O	Old
G	Glorious
R	Refreshing
T	Tough

Name / Username:

Name Acronym Generator
From Go-Quiz.com