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"Prepare for the unknown by studying how others in the past have coped with the unforeseeable and the unpredictable." –George Patton
We are living in unprecedented times. Or are we? If you study history and business, you will see that our economy has experienced several cycles of growth and contraction. Many successful entrepreneurs and business owners throughout history have experienced prosperity and hardships. Granted, it has been a long time since we have seen something of this magnitude, but one thing that history proves is that the current trend will change. The question is: Will you be ready for the upturn when it comes?
Business owners who strategically prepare for the future will come out ahead. To ensure your long-term success, you need to continuously plan. More specifically, a Harvard Business School study suggests that it is important to have a written plan.
Conducted over the course of 25 years, the study found that of the 1,600 businesses it tracked, 70 percent had no written or verbal plan and 27 percent had only verbal goals. Only 3 percent of the businesses had written plans—and it was that small segment of the business owners who held 98 percent of the wealth.
That study proves the power of strategic planning, but success involves more than just having a written plan. It also comes from the process of developing that plan.
During this process, you must ask three critical questions:
1. Who are we?
2. Where are we going?
3. How are we going to get there?
The business owners who go through the planning process every year and forecast what their business will look like in the next one to five years know whether or not to expand or conserve. Being able to forecast and adjust accordingly gives you an edge against your competitors, who are more than likely just winging it. Obviously, your plan might get thrown off base at times, but having a sense of where you are and where you planned to be will mitigate those circumstances and allow you to adapt.
Strategic planning is probably the most important skill you can acquire as an owner or manager, and if you take the time to set a plan, you will come out ahead in the long run.
David McGarry holds a bachelor's degree in exercise science from the University of Florida and an MBA from the University of Texas at Dallas. McGarry also is certified through the NSCA as a certified strength and conditioning specialist and is the owner of www.davemcgarry.com, a fitness consulting company. Previously, he served as the assistant general manager for the Cooper Fitness Center at Craig Ranch. His experience consists of more than 13 years as a personal trainer and fitness manager. McGarry is actively involved with the community as a public speaker and presenter to corporations for health and wellness. His most recent accomplishment is a self-published book for fitness professionals and personal trainers called "Anatomy of Sales," available at www.anatomyofsales.com.

subset: commoncrawl


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WEDNESDAY, May 25, 2011 (HealthDay News) -- Taken in combination, two commonly prescribed drugs, the antidepressant Paxil and the cholesterol-lowering medication Pravachol, appear to significantly raise blood sugar levels, a new study finds.
The increase is most apparent -- and concerning -- among diabetics, whose blood sugar is already too high, the researchers noted.
"This interaction may affect as many as 1 million Americans who might be on these two drugs and who are getting a bump in their blood glucose that may be unnecessary," said lead researcher Dr. Russ Altman, a professor of bioengineering, genetics and medicine at Stanford University.
It's possible that the blood sugar spike triggered a diagnosis of type 2 diabetes in some patients, Altman said, "and we might have been able to avoid that diagnosis if they hadn't been on these drugs," he said. "That's speculative, but it's possible."
Neither drug alone raises blood sugar, and the researchers said they can't yet explain the effect of the combination. Also, combinations of other antidepressants and cholesterol-lowering drugs do not boost glucose levels. "It is not what we would call a 'class' effect," Altman explained.
Paxil (paroxetine) is in a class of drugs called selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs), and Pravachol (pravastatin) belongs to a group of drugs called statins. "We looked at all other pairs of SSRIs and statins, and there were a couple that showed a tiny bump in glucose, but there is nothing like the bump seen with Paxil and Pravachol," Altman said.
For the study, published online May 25 in Clinical Pharmacology and Therapeutics, the researchers used a technique called data mining, scanning large databases in hopes of finding information that, while not immediately obvious, is gleaned by combining data in a new way.
In this case, Altman's team used data from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration's Adverse Event Reporting System, plus data from Stanford, Harvard and Vanderbilt universities to identify associations that would not be apparent to doctors treating individual patients.
Using this method, the researchers identified 135 non-diabetic patients taking both drugs whose blood sugar increased 19 milligrams per deciliter after starting treatment. They also identified 104 diabetics whose blood sugar increased an average of 48 mg/dl while taking both drugs.
People with blood sugar levels of 126 mg/dl or higher on two tests are considered diabetic. Levels of 100 mg/dl to 125 mg/dl are considered pre-diabetic.
By extrapolating these findings to the entire United States population, Altman's team believes that of 33 million people currently taking Paxil or Pravachol, 500,000 to 1 million take them together.
To test whether their findings were merely associations that could be explained by other factors, the researchers experimented with the drugs in mice.
The mice were exposed to the two drugs after receiving a high-fat, high-calorie diet to make them pre-diabetic. While neither drug alone increased blood sugar, together they increased blood sugar from about 128 mg/dl to 193 mg/dl, the researchers found.
"This was just like the humans in our database," Altman said. "So, this seems to be a real biological effect. This might give us insight into mechanisms of diabetes."
Altman cautions that people taking this drug combination should not overreact.
"People on an antidepressant should not mess with that because depression is a very serious disease," he said. It would be reasonable to visit a physician and see if your glucose levels have been difficult to control, he said. "If it has been, then I would think the thing to change might be the statin," he said.
Dr. Ronald B. Goldberg., professor of medicine at the Diabetes Research Institute of the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine, said this is "an interesting finding and could be clinically important."
"People with diabetes have an increased risk of depression; they are all recommended to be on statins," Goldberg said. "So, it may aggravate blood sugar control in people who are diabetic."
But Goldberg thinks it's too early to change clinical practice based on this study alone. "This needs to be confirmed in a clinical trial," he said.
More information
For more information on diabetes, visit the U.S. National Library of Medicine.


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Prices incl. VAT - We are UK based but DON'T normally deliver beyond 40 miles from STOKE-ON-TRENT, if you aren't local to us please click here for details of our service area
This items in stock @ HYLANDS - check where if you wanted to view one. However if you are already happy with your choice you can order now for collection or fast same day/next day/your preferred day of delivery with an AM/PM time slot for no extra charge Subject to availability within our service area for orders over £199 excludes Sundays & Bank holidays Once you have placed your order we will call you to arrange a mutually convenient time or advise where our stock is held if you wanted to collect Please see our page footer for more details of our service area if you haven't dealt with us before
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Save upto 70% On Your Next iPhone Projectby Hiring a iPhone Developer on Monthly, Daily or Hourly basis!
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text:
Install Twitter
Install YouTube
Use Twitter
Activate Apple ID on mobile phone
Set up your mobile phone for internet
You can send iMessages to phone numbers or email addresses if the recipient has a device that supports iMessage. Before you can set up your mobile phone for iMessaging, you need to activate your Apple ID.
Find "Messages"
Tap Settings.
Tap Messages.
Turn on sending of iMessages
Tap the indicator next to "iMessage" to turn on the function.
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Tap the indicator next to "Send as SMS" to turn the function on or off.
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text:
Sioux Falls Man Arrested for Kidnapping Woman
A woman who needed a ride from a downtown Sioux Falls convenience store wound up being a kidnapping victim just after 10 p.m. Monday.
Police Captain Greg VandeKamp says the woman was at 14th and Minnesota, and waiting for a ride to the 3600 block of North Fourth Avenue top pick up some property.
Vandekamp says a man she didn't know offered to take her there, and on the way he stopped to buy some liquor, but eventually he took her to where she wanted to go.
"In the timeframe of getting the alcohol and getting out there he pretty much drank the bottle. When she was wanting to get out he was not wanting her to leave," explains Vandekamp. "She had asked him to let her out and he was not allowing her to do so and was continuing to drive through the lot at a fairly high rate of speed. She threatened to bail out on him [and] he eventually stopped. When he came around to the passenger side she grabbed the keys and chucked the keys."
VandeKamp says 61-year-old David Centra of Sioux Falls was arrested on charges of second-degree kidnapping, DWI and simple assault.


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Jowai is located in the district of Jaintia Hills in the state of Meghalaya. The town of Jowai, which is a popular tourist destination, is also known by the name of Jwai. Jowai consists of many tribes and settlements that depict the cultural heritage of the town.
The festival of Behdeimkhlam is a popular festival, when locals prepare delicacies that mainly include meat, fish and pork like Jadoh, Doh Khleh, Doh Jem during this time. Jowai is the commercial and educational hub of the region as several students from neighbouring towns come here to study.
One of the popular attractions in Jowai is Syntu Ksiar, which is located along the region of the Myntdu River. The destination once used to be one of the most important places for India's freedom struggle and it was Kiang Nangbah, who led the struggle in the region of Jowai. Jowai has a monument dedicated to the memory of the freedom fighter Kiang Nangbah. Other popular attractions in Jowai include the Thadlaskein Lake and Lalong Park.
Jowai is one of the wettest regions. Jowai experiences a short summer, comparatively long monsoon and extremely cold winters.
The best time to visit the destination is from December to April.
Share your experience
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text: Pap Smears The Pap smear is a screening test effective in the detection of pre-malignant changes of the uterine cervix. Repeated periodic testing and follow up of results are essential due to the occurance of false negative results. Falst negative results may occur due to sampling errors, screening difficulties inherent to the method or due to the subjective interpretation of the cellular changes in the smear. Similarly, false positive results may also occur. For positive identification, the name of the patient MUST be provided. For Liquid Based Paps, it must be clearly written on the vial. For conventional Paps, it must be written on the frosted end of the slide in pencil AND on the bottle or slide container. Specimen Labeling Requirements Always label samples at the time of collection in the presence of the patient. Use a minimum of two patient identifiers on every sample submitted for testing. Required patient identifiers include Patient Full Legal Name (First and Last) AND at least one additional identifier: Patient Date of Birth (DOB) or Social Security Number or Numbered Requisition Lable Specimens submitted on slides must have patient full legal name (first and last) and one additional identifier on each slide. The container holding the slides should also have two acceptable patient identifiers. For your convenience, Legacy requisitions have adhesive labels printed with a unique identifying number. Please print the patient's full legal name on this label and attach to the specimen. Last name and first initial are not acceptable. Please include the source of the specimen on the requisition form. Specimens will be rejected and returned to the originating site if the following conditions apply: Specimen is submitted without a requisition. Requisition is received without a specimen. The patient name or other identifiying information on the specimen and requisitioin do not correspond. The specimen is labeled appropriately but the requisition is not labeled. The conventional Pap slide is irreparably broken. The specimen has completely leaked out of the specimen container. A specimen is submitted from an unauthorized source. Please refer to the documents listed below for detailed instructions on how to properly collect a cervical cytology specimen. SurePath Pap Test Method ThinPrep Pap Test Method Clinical history is extremely important for proper evaluation. Complete the clinical history portion of the Legacy Laboratory Services Requisition as fully as possitlbe - age, LMP, previous abnormal Pap or cervical cancer. Legacy Laboratory Services will provide all supplies necessary for collecting and transporting Paps to Legacy Laboratory. For liquid Based Paps, we provide ThinPrep® or SurePath™ specimen vials; for Conventional Paps we provide Pap bottles and slides with frosted ends or Pap kits. Additionally we provide either cervical brooms or endocervical brush/spatula combinations, per physician preference. For supplies, please contact Client Services at 503-413-1234, Toll Free 877-270-5566 or submit a Supply Request Form.


text: Yellow Swans were an American experimental electronic noise band from Portland, Oregon. The duo are renowned[citation needed] for their improvisional approach to music, creating a unique experience for each live performance. They describe their music as "a constantly evolving mass of psychedelic noise that is both physically arresting and psychically liberating"[1]. The band consists of Pete Swanson (vocals, drum machine, electronics) and Gabriel Mindel Saloman (guitar, feedback, electronics). The band announced their split in April 2008.


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Federal judge recuses from Ark. gay marriage suit
A federal judge is recusing from a case challenging Arkansas' ban on gay marriage, citing friendships with supporters of the amendment that voters approved banning same-sex unions.
U.S. District Judge Leon Holmes on Thursday ordered that the lawsuit challenging the ban be assigned to another judge. Holmes cited personal and professional relationships with leaders who drafted and campaigned for the ban that was approved by voters in 2004. Holmes wrote that the relationships developed in 1980s working on issues similar, but not identical, to the gay marriage ban.
The case was reassigned to Judge Kristine Baker.
Holmes wrote the professional relationships ceased when he became a federal judge, but the personal ones have continued.
Three gay couples filed the lawsuit on Monday.


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And here I am, on Christmas eve, posting a picture of Rick Moranis:
If This Post Doesn't Convince You To Subscribe to my Blog, I Don't Know What Will
Legend has it that many bloggers don't post very much during the holidays. I was like "I'm not going to be like that... I'm going to be the best blogger ever! I'm going to post three times a day!"
And here I am, on Christmas eve, posting a picture of Rick Moranis:
And here I am, on Christmas eve, posting a picture of Rick Moranis:
Consider it an early Christmas present.
You're welcome.
6 comments:
- Kirsten said...
May the baby jesus bless you for this!
I love Rick Moranis..especially in
1. Little Shop of Horrors
2. Honey You Shrunk the Audience (Disneyland).
Also, please keep posting so I dont die of boredom during xmas. Thanks.
- December 24, 2009 at 2:17 PM
- Allie said...
Kirsten - I'll keep posting. It might just be photoshopped pictures of Rick Moranis declaring his undying love for me, but I'll keep posting.
- December 24, 2009 at 2:21 PM
- Blaise said...
Haha! I am definitely looking forward to those! Merry Christmas!
- December 24, 2009 at 2:39 PM
I didn't technically subscribe to your blog... but you have your very own button on my browser toolbar... Marry Christmas!
- December 24, 2009 at 2:53 PM
- Carrieann said...
If I could subscribe to your blog a second time just because you are posting these pics, I would do it.
- December 24, 2009 at 4:31 PM
- Dual Mom said...
Ahhhh you're such a good blogger! A trooper, really...
Merry Christmas!
- December 25, 2009 at 6:28 AM
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text:
Chromcraft crates classic designs for dinettes, tables, chairs and stools in wood and metal.
Default | Name Up | Name Down | Price Up | Price Down
Don't see what you are looking for? GIVE US A CALL! (856-486-1880)
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Click here for Furniture Repair services and general pricing from Viking.


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Onion powder
Product description
NameOnion powder
TypeSpice, seasoning powder
ColorLight yellow
OdorStrong onion aroma
FormPowder, 3000-25000SHU, 40-80 mesh
Place of originShandong, China
Brand nameHIDOO/OEM
GradeFood grade
Application scopeused well in sausage, meat products, snack, cans, seasoning, pickled
Recommended dosagechoose the best quantity through test
StorageSealed in cool and dry place, keep away from strong light and heat
Shelf life12 months
Package25kg/kraft paper bag
Container660bags/20FCL, 1000bags/40FCL
Delivery time5-25 days after the payment against the order quantity
PaymentTT100%, Western union, PayPal, LC
PortQingdao, China
1. 100% pure natural dried white onion with different ASTA
2. Natural & Delicious & Healthy
1. Material: new cropped dried white onion
2. Size: 40-80 mesh
3. Hot unit: 3000-25000 SHU
4. Moisture:<10%
1. Hidoo Food company is manufacturer. We have our own factory which make us more competitive in the market. We can supply the best quality, price and service.
2. Our team are experienced, excellent and responsible who have more than 10 years for export, production, technology and can meet your various demand.
3. We establish a long-term cooperation with customers at home and abroad. Up to now, we have exported to more than 10 countries in Africa, Asia, Europe and America.
4. Our products, such as "Double Crown", "Rainbow", "Flying fish", "Napa Valley", "Victory Food" are widely known and popular by the market and customers.
25kg/kraft paper bag, 660bags/20FCL, 1000bags/40FCL
1-5 kg, waterproof bag >5kg, carton
Products will be transported by sea, air, truck, rail according to different demand.
≤50kg, we can send via DHL, TNT, FEDEX, EMS------fast and convenient
≥50kg, recommend to choose air transportation------fast and cheap
≥200kg, recommend to choose sea transportation------cheapest way
Product Application
1. Is Hidoo Food a manufacturer or trader?
Hidoo Food is a manufacturer. We have our own factory which will make us supply the best quality, service and the cheapest price.
2. Can I get the sample to test the quality?
Yes, samples are free! You'd better charge the express fee pls.
3. How long will I get the sample?
We will get the sample ready for you in 2-3 days usually. You will get it in about 7-8 days by the express, such as DHL, TNT, UPS, FedEx, EMS.
4. How is your products quality?
You could totally be assured of our products quality. Firstly, we have strict quality control system to ensure the high quality products. Secondly, qualified products are the major factors
5. What is the payment?
TT100%, Western union and PayPal are available
6. What is the MOQ?
MOQ is 1kg. You will develop your business without stock pressure. However, we suggest 100kg or more considering the inspection and shipping cost.
7. How long will be the good shipped?
It depends on the quantity. We will finish the production for one 40 HQ, about 15 tons within 20-25 days.
8. Will you supply OEM?
Yes, OEM is ok. We can make the best products with your own brand, design, formula and so on.
9. How can I contact you?
Pls contact us freely at any time.
Email: firstname.lastname@example.com, Moble/whatsapp/wechat: +86 185 5325 7711Customized dehydrated vegetables powder


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Podcast Reference
How do I reference a podcast? Its audio only from a confrence tha has been posted in a podcast
How do I reference a podcast? Its audio only from a confrence tha has been posted in a podcast
Hi AW,
Please let me cut and paste a little from the relevant referencing page from our website: (https://www.lib.uts.edu.au/help/referencing/harvard-uts-referencing-guide/website-or-online
If you downloaded a podcastfrom a website, it may be an audio file or a video file. Details of the radio or television program (program name, station name, station location, and broadcast date) should be provided.
In text
(Crawford 2009) or (Small town salvation 2009)
Reference list
Crawford, M. 2009, Shop class as soulcraft, audio podcast, Future Tense Radio National, ABC Radio, Sydney, 5 November, viewed 18 November 2009, <http://www.abc.net.au/rn/futuretense/stories/2009/2728755.htm>
Small town salvation 2009, video podcast, Compass Television Program, ABC TV, Sydney, 1 November, viewed 18 November 2009, <http://www.abc.net.au/compass/s2707046.htm>


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Well appointed and updated 2bd condo in the best location in the area. Quick access to 95/395/495 and nearby metro (Van Dorn), make this condo an amazing starter home. Not far from Amazon locations! Hardwood flooring, Gas Fireplace, Washer/Dryer, new granite in kitchen! So many updates! This condo is ready for its next owner.
Condo, Unit/Flat, Garden 1 - 4 Floors
The information being provided by the Central Penn Multi-List, Inc is exclusively for consumers' personal, non-commercial use, and it may not be used for any purpose other than to identify prospective properties consumers may be interested in purchasing. The data is deemed reliable but is not guaranteed accurate by the MLS.


text:
NR F1 Podcast: 2017 Italian Grand Prix Review – From livewire Lewis Hamilton to face-Palmer karma
The NR F1 Podcast takes to the airwaves to bring you its 2017 Italian Formula 1 Grand Prix review.
It wasn't quite all action, but there was more than enough to talk about following the 2017 Italian Grand Prix.
Edition 195 of The NR F1 Podcast sees our podcast crew hail more records for Lewis Hamilton, enjoy the new kids on the front row block, lap up the intrigue at Red Bull and contemplate getting #FacePalmerKarma trending.
Monza signs off the European action for another Formula 1 season. Singapore awaits...
The NR F1 Podcast gets together to their views on the latest Formula 1 action out across the world.
The pod's recent activity also includes their review of the latest F1 news, interviewing former BBC F1 host Jake Humphrey, plus their predictions for what they thought might happen at Monza.
You can subscribe with iTunes, audioboom or your podcast player of choice – to make sure you catch every edition as soon as it is released.
• Follow The NRF1 Podcast @theNRF1 on Facebook and Twitter – or get in touch with an email to email@example.com
If you value what this story gives you, please consider supporting the Islington Gazette. Click the link in the yellow box below for details.


text:
NASHVILLE, Tenn. – The Tennessee State men's basketball team fell to 3-23 with a, 73-65, loss to Murray State on Saturday night in the Gentry Center.
Patrick Miller led the Tigers in points for the 24th time this season, scoring 26 on 9-of-16 shooting (56 percent). The senior also added five boards.
M.J. Rhett had his second-consecutive double-double and 12th this season with 10 points and 10 boards.
Kennedy Eubanks also had a solid game, netting 13 points and grabbing seven rebounds.
The Tigers were cold from the field to begin the game, hitting one of their first seven shots (14 percent). The slow start allowed Murray State to race out to an 11-4 lead through the opening six minutes.
TSU finally found its stroke and got within three at 16-13 when Miller converted a layup at the 10:48 mark. However, Murray's Cameron Payne countered with a pair of triples to pad his team's cushion.
The Racers raised their lead by as many as 13 during the first half, but a 6-2 Tiger run to close out the period made the score 37-28 in favor of the visitors.
Miller had half of TSU's points during the first 20 minutes, but MSU outshot TSU, 47 to 37 percent.
M.J. Rhett started the second half with a strong, two-handed dunk that was assisted by Miller, but Jonathan Fairell answered with a slam of his own on the other end.
The Tigers could not gain any ground on the Racers through the first half of the second period, and did not record consecutive buckets until Rhett poured in a layup at the 6:28 mark.
A long two-pointer by Jordan Gaither got TSU back within five with 4:38 to go, but four straight from Murray State put the visitors in control for good.
Tennessee State will travel to Belmont on Feb. 13 for a nationally televised matchup with the Bruins. Tip-off is scheduled for 8 p.m. and can be seen on ESPNU.


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Download screensavers with historic photos of Sangamon State University and Illinois Springfield (instructions included):
We created several different musical styles of the song Illinois, Illinois as ringtones! Choose your style:
- Funk (mp3)
- HipHop (mp3)
- HouseDance (mp3)
- Jazz (mp3)
- Reggae (mp3)
To use these ringtones, you need a cell phone with MP3 ringtone support. Use one of the following options to transfer the MP3 ringtone onto your phone:
If you have an iPhone, you can download all the ringtones to your computer and add them to your phone (ringtones are in M4R format, file is a .zip file, 3.9 MB):
- Use Bluetooth to pair your computer and cell phone
- If your cell phone has a USB connection, use that to move the MP3 file to your phone
- E-mail or text the MP3 as an attachment
Once you transfer the file to your phone, place the ringtone file into the Audio folder of your phone, then select the new ringtone in your Tools or Options menu.


text:
Rockmans at Stockland Burleigh Heads is your one stop shop for flattering, fashionable & affordable style solutions.
With new styles and new trends, wardrobe essentials and accessories for work and play, plus style tips, body shape & outfitting advice, Rockmans is the style destination for new fashion to ensure you look fabulous and feel great!
We're really sorry, but something has gone wrong.
To provide you with the most relevant gift ideas, tell me about the person you are shopping for.
What is the age of the person?


text:
Reshaping the Data Center - Reshaping the Workplace - Cloud Computing
Does cloud offer new options to local authority administrations. Is it thus an alternative to traditional IT provision? Yes is the answer to both questions.
Planet Reseller has now been operating at CeBIT for ten years. Its powers as an ITC specialist trade center have not diminished.
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text:
New York |
Empty Nest
by Sarah Marian Seltzer
edited by Brian Joseph Davis
Excerpted from the in-progress linked collection, Joy, Somewhere in the City
Laine was in the passenger seat, her husband Gerald at the wheel, when he confessed he'd been sleeping with another woman. She folded up the papery New Jersey map, keeping the creases where they belonged, even smoothing down the seams before she started screaming.
Their car sped along the Turnpike on the way home from the airport, where they had just dropped their daughter Maya at the British Airways counter, yielding her to the Crown for a post grad year at Oxford. Their older son Alex, who had lived with them at home after college, had flown off to Berlin for a consulting job. Laine was alone—not just in the house, but on the continent. Gerald had used her long name: "Elaine, I'm sorry to tell you this way."
The leather seat stuck to the bottom of her thighs. They both wore sunglasses to contend with the early autumn glare. Perhaps that's why he'd chosen that moment, she surmised later. Because of the partitions put between them, and between each one of them and the rest of the world, by those thick shades.
For part of the drive she engaged in a few vigorous rounds of shouting and screaming "are you fucking kidding me?" and its variations. He winced and muttered in response.
But she was even angrier once the shock wore off. In her mind, she floated outside the car and could see the two of them sitting there, two middle-aged parents, hollering, mouths open, saw the overwhelming indignity of his timing. Maya was still sitting in the departures lounge; they had been true empty nesters for less than an hour. He must have timed his affair for this moment, with children out of their reach, unable to leap to the defense of their wronged mother.
And how clever of him to tell her now. One couldn't jump out of a car in the middle of New Jersey. As to which of them would do the jumping, what difference would it make? One of them would be gone, and the other of them wouldn't.
"Are you trying to turn us into a cliché?" she shouted. "Our last kid leaves home for good and not two hours later you announce that you've got a midlife crisis lined up and ready to go?"
"I'm not telling you now because of Maya," he said. "I'm telling you because it's going to be," this time he cringed in the old familiar way, "It's going to be, um, in the papers soon. Someone got wind of it," he said. "I'm so sorry, Laine."
Laine bit down hard on her lip.
She and Gerald were celebrities—if you could call them that—in their insular, backbiting world of New York media. She was a radio host and he was a top editor at a major publishing house. But Laine and Gerald were classy. They were. They avoided these sordid, gossipy things. She never even read the Post, except when her producers required it of her.
She crumpled up the folded map and threw it into the backseat. She crossed her arms over her chest, like a teenager, like their teenagers often had. She stared straight ahead and said nothing. He ought to do the hard work; he should have to bring up all the questions he wanted her to ask.
Who is she? How long? Are you leaving me? Or am I leaving you?
No tears formed, nothing pricked at the corner of her eyes. Laine rarely cried—everyone knew her to be a cool analytical type. So instead she began to probe, straight away, the choice she'd made to link herself to Gerald, to bear his children, to tie her fate to that of a man, she'd long since realized, who saw the whole world, who even saw her, through a thick screen of self, blocking out the world's needs as he avoided her now with his sunglasses.
She adjusted her own Ray Bans. Why should his Ray Bans have the upper hand?
Gerald, as she predicted, couldn't bear her silence. He spoke up and told her all, in serious tones, while he kept his focus studiously on the road. It turned out that the woman was one of Gerald's authors, a rising young star at his publishing house. She'd written a self-help book called "Be Your Skinny Jeans Self" currently skyrocketing up the Times bestseller list.
He drove perhaps too fast, now. She put a hand on his shoulder, as usual, to slow him down.
Gerald and the woman had been seeing each other for about four months, and he'd been planning to break it off with her, he really had, and as to what would happen now, Gerald intoned, he just didn't know. He needed some time to think. "A Page Six item is coming tomorrow," he admitted.
Elaine snorted.
"Is it a blind item?" she spat. "I can't believe I have to ask that, like some fallen Disney starlet." The sun burned golden on the swamplands rushing past the windows of the car. A few bushes and trees had turned red at the edges, blood-like spots on the endless expanse of telephone poles, swamps, and grass.
"Yes, I think so," he said. "My friend at the Post told me so when he tipped me off. It wouldn't be recognizable to like, Joe Schmoe in Kansas."
"But all our friends will know, won't they?" she said.
"Probably. I don't know."
"You could have been a bit more discreet," she said, sensing a snide tone creep into her own voice.
"I'm glad you're more concerned about your reputation than our marriage," he replied. "I've always admired your professionalism."
"Well I'm glad you're now blaming me for not caring about our marriage after you've just shit all over our wedding vows with a bimbo self-help guru who's buttering you up for the next advance. What do you think, mid to high six figures?" she said. He blanched.
"I'll say it again," she continued, sensing the opening he'd provided. "I feel like I'm in the opening scene of a—of a chick flick for the menopausal set. Diane Keaton should play me. Or Jamie Lee Curtis, maybe. I can't wait for some Matthew McConaughey clone to amble in and bring laughter back into my wrinkled life."
Gerald laughed, and so did she. Then she tried to turn away from him, uncomfortably twisting against the seatbelt. Her sharp humor had brought him to her, had caught his attention so many years ago. She knew his thoughts were the same. She knew his thoughts. She knew he admired her, and it came as no surprise that it should hurt her to know it.
"I'm not telling the kids," she said firmly. "You are. Before their friends do. Or god forbid, before their grandparents do. Tonight." His silence acknowledged that telling Maya and Alex was indeed his burden. And she thought to herself: Why am I so tough now, after all these years of letting Gerry be Gerry? Gerry with his damn sunglasses. She reached over and removed them from his face, startling him so much he nearly drove over the median. Then she fitted them back over his face again.
And without warning she felt it, beneath the frustration and fury, beneath the resentment and worry about what people would think. She felt him crawling out of the place in her where he'd dwelt for so long. Loss gnawed against her. She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes in silent anguish at the decisions they'd have to make.
She had met Gerald when she was 33, beginning to make a name for herself at NPR. He was a notoriously powerful not to mention eligible nonfiction editor, and he'd called her up out of the blue to tell her how hilarious her spot mocking Andrew Lloyd Weber musicals was that morning, and would she consent to have a drink with him?
A series of boyfriends in the media world had paraded into her bed, and her life, and they'd all turned out to be assholes. Gerald possessed a sweetness, an affectionate innocence, that was so different from them. On one level, he treated her better than anyone she'd ever been around. He loved to cuddle with her under a big blanket on her couch and run his hands through the hair she spent pained minutes ironing each morning—and he was so proud of her radio prowess he positively blazed with it. She had thought it unselfish for a man like Gerald, clearly such a player himself. She assumed it was because of his age, because at 40 he had attained a level of security.
She had ignored it when the wife of a friend of theirs, drunk to truth-serum levels on Pinot Grigio, had leaned across the dinner table one evening and asked her "what it's like to be swept under the cloak of Gerald Siegel's massive ego? Gratifying, I bet, but smothering too." Envy, Laine had thought at the time, dismissing this woman who spent her husband's ample fortune lobbying politicians for all sorts of domestic violence and abortiony kind of issues. Everything fits into her stupid militant narrative, Laine thought. The woman simply couldn't imagine a man being kind, much less a man like Gerald. But years later, as she noticed the way he took on the kids—pigeonholing them by their interests, their talents—that she began to wonder if the woman hadn't been right, if Gerald's pride in her didn't have more to do with him than with her. She wondered if she was Gerald's intellectual trophy wife, while Maya was his soccer-playing, poetry writing arm and Alex his arm who was good with numbers. Together, she imagined, he saw them as some sort of super-Gerald squid.
And there was a flip side to the self-absorption. Humor, soccer, poetry, math—these subjects he got.
But he couldn't quite latch on to the parts of the children that were beyond the realm of school. "Wow, look at them," he'd often say, but the subtext was I didn't sign up for organic farming; I didn't sign up for the WWF Wrestlemania and bad sitcoms, and cheeto stains on my suits. "What's new in your world?" he'd ask, but then his eyes would skip nervously past what they answered. Her burgeoning realization had spread like a silent, years-long fissure. Particularly with Alex, their oldest, who claimed to see right through his dad, the conflict had been almost unbearable. Alex had gone to boarding school by choice, chased out by his dad's encroaching largeness, his need for attention. Poor Alex loathed writing and wasn't particularly verbal, not an easy thing not to be in their household, and Gerald had regarded this as a threat to himself
She shook her head, thinking about the way her boy used to scream at Gerald—"You have a fucking narcissistic personality disorder, dad."
Gerald slowed the car in pre-tunnel traffic and Laine saw, ahead of them, a Princeton sticker in the rear window of another car, just like theirs. Would Gerald have been happy if one of the kids had followed him to his alma mater there? She had secretly encouraged them in a less traditional, more artsy direction. Had that been her sin?
"You're shaking your head. Is it at me?" Gerald asked.
"I'm thinking about the kids, actually," she said. She marveled: there had been years and years of "is it me? Have I done something?" which she had taken to be humble neuroses. But maybe such queries were a need to put himself at the center of every drama. Just as, she surmised, his dalliance with Skinny Jeans came from the same desire.
Each road sign rose ahead of them in successive phases of illumination as the sun set, glaring, then muted, then grayish rose, and still he kept on his sunglasses, as if to face off the dusk with an end of the day all his own.
At last they were in Manhattan and out of traffic, zooming home up the Westside Highway. The light had faded to purple. The river glowed beneath the George Washington Bridge.
"I love you, you know," he said. "I couldn't live without you."
"You should have thought about it before you unzipped Ms. Skinny Jeans," she said with a sigh. "I'm not a pair of Mom Jeans, Gerald. You can't just do this."
He laughed, and said in a tone that was overcompensating, perhaps, in its contrition, "I'm so, so, so, sorry. I know I fucked up."
He probably expected she would stay with him after it all died down. She wondered if she expected the same thing.
"I'm not talking to you," she said, and she didn't for the rest of the ride back.
At home, she stalked into the room that served as her office, picking up the manuscript of an anthology of humorous essays by women. She began to mark up the margins, as focused as she was furious in her intensity. She put on opera, which Gerald hated; this served as her "do not disturb" sign. A laughable notion: Gerry, not disturbing her. A few times she had to lay her work aside and fold her hands across her chest, like a corpse in its coffin. Her wounded heart seeped pain into her limbs, her back; her cheeks flamed with indignation and mortification, and beneath it something worse: a cavernous, gaping bereavement.
When she bought a Post the next day, her newsman on the corner of 68th and Lex looked at her no differently than usual. If this were a movie, she imagined, she'd be greeted by herself on the cover of a magazine as the new face of scorned older women everywhere and the newsman would shake his head in recognition. But the truth was this man would never know, and the people on the street would never know. The crowd of coats and hats on the 6 train would remain oblivious that, to quote the Post, the one and same "beloved radio personality being made to look a fool as her big-time editor husband cavorts with a hot authorial prospect" rode in their midst. She crossed her still slender ankles, feeling thankful for small mercies.
When she arrived at the studio, slid into her chair, adjusted her mic, and smiled at the young intern bringing her coffee—as she did each day—she lost the refuge of anonymity. Here, people knew what her husband did for a living. They knew, she thought wryly, that she was "beloved." They had made her so. She tried to ascertain the significance in everyone's look, the arch of the brows, the curl at the corner of their lips. But it was a futile exercise. She was a rational person so she rationally understood that this news was making her irrational, making her see things, conjuring signs that weren't there. Crazy. She groaned: the Broadway actress she was meant to interview in half an hour was Rina, Maya's longtime friend who had graduated NYU and gone straight into theater. The city could be such a village.
Laine anchored a regular half-hour segment on arts and culture on the morning show of the public radio station. It was said that all literate people in NYC listened to Laine at least once a week on their morning commutes, or while making toast and coffee beforehand. Today, she wished she were a schoolteacher, a train conductor, anyone but herself.
Rina breezed into the studio; the women embraced, Laine clucked maternally.
"How was seeing Maya off?" asked Rina. This girl who had once lain across Laine's floor in overalls and pigtails was now sensually perky; her crimson scarf trailed behind her like a tail. Today, her youth repulsed Laine, recalling Ms. Skinny Jeans to her. But as Rina settled in her chair, something steely in her made her hard to dislike. Her limbs were long, yes, but bulging, defined muscles poked out of her feminine clothes. She had worked for this. In her performance in a downtown rock musical about to move to 42d street, Rina swung a leg alluringly around the microphone stand and belted out songs; she exuded a sort of primal feminine strength mixed with just a touch of vulnerability. She was star material even if the critics didn't quite see it yet, since they were still dubious about her NYU pedigree, her youth, her "cloying earnestness" in the words of one. The two women sat across from each other as the technicians adjusted their headphones, microphones, postures. Just before the show began, Rina leaned over to touch Laine's arm and said, without a trace of irony, "I've always admired you so much, you know, as a woman in the arts and as a woman, period. You're a role model. I support you in every way. Thank you for inviting me to do this." Rina had read the Post, Laine realized, and everyone in the office probably had too.
Laine looked hard at this girl, pictured Maya's legs dangling off the edge of the iron frame bed of some distant Oxford dorm room, kicking the air just as they'd done at home; and asked herself, "am I not even allowed to feel that? My kids thousands of miles across the ocean?" and the tears suddenly began gushing up out of nowhere. She wavered and closed her eyes and held them there, and took a giant breath, and suddenly there was Rina, handing her a pair of sunglasses without a word.
They were on the air in five, four, three…
So, her eyes shaded, protected, she proceeded to verbally joust with Rina about the hot pants and heels she wore onstage, and her voice lessons and the challenge of the score's musical range; and then when they were done she kissed Rina on the cheek and walked her to the door. A commercial, then a plea for donations, came on air.
She read the arts and entertainment news, plugged the next show, fake-smiled at the microphone.
After it was over and the technicians gave her the thumbs up, she went into the women's room and tucked her feet up above the toilet and sobbed silently, soaking sheet after sheet of toilet paper, dropping them in the bowl. Even then she felt proud of her own toughness, because no one could hear her.
What was going to happen? Would he stay? Would she go? Would he go? What did she want them to do?
She was a rational woman. She didn't care about the sex, really. He'd always had a bit of a Woody Allen thing going on when it came to sex—a little neurotic, a little obsessed, a few too many pathetic hang-ups. So it didn't shock her that he'd lust after some buxom construct. But what his affair indicated: the fault line running beneath the surface of the marriage, his absurd idea that she would help put everything back together with her fucking competence, an imposition she had allowed for too long, that dug into her, that would leave its mark on her, that maybe already had.
"Mom? Is it true?" Maya's voice sounded tinny and removed through Skype. Her face wavered in an out of focus. It was lunchtime, and Laine sat at her desk sorting through emails.
"Oh shit. You haven't heard from your father?"
"I was supposed to hear from him?' Maya asked. "So it's true, then. Rina emailed me. She saw it in the Post. She said you seemed dazed this morning."
Laine took a deep breath.
"Shit. He was supposed to call you last night. It was the only thing I asked of him. He's so helpless—I mean, I'm sorry, darling. So sorry that this should be affecting you. Everything's going to be fine. I promise you. You know I've got things under control. You just focus on your Modernist lit and let me and your father work out his midlife crisis. Okay? Just don't drink too much and use a condom every time, darling," she said, trying to get her daughter to laugh, though Laine realized she probably sounded desperate.
"Mom! This isn't funny. This is just—I can't. Maybe Alex is right and our father is a horrible excuse for a human being," her voice wavered. Maya was a such a girl. She adored her father. They all did. "That was all you asked of him? Nothing else?"
Laine pursed her lips. "Your father worships you," was all she had to say in response. "He made a mistake, is all and we're going to deal with it. You shouldn't use this as an excuse to stay attached to your dysfunctional family now that you're at Oxford. You have to trust me. Now don't you have to go to some sort of Shakespearean rugby or beer drinking society meeting?"
"Mom," said Maya. "You're ridiculous to defend him when you have us on your side. What is wrong with you? I'm calling Alex, not Skyping, and I'm not using a calling card. I'll send Dad the bill."
Good, thought Laine, because I'm failing right now as a mother, and you and your sibling need each other.
Gerald had caused her to fail this way. Gerald would make her seem weak in her daughter's eyes.
Active rage finally enveloped her, enough to enable a choice. Laine had anticipated a return of sensation at some point; now it had returned with a vengeance; she abhorred him. She'd subsumed herself to this marriage for far too long, absurd as it seemed given her career, but she had. Her kids were out, and she wanted out too.
"I know this is a random question," she asked her literary agent, who knew everyone, on the phone. "But do you know any divorce lawyers?"
"That's not random at all," said the agent with a sly lift in her voice. "And good for you."
Everyone really did read the Post.
"Also," she asked her agent. "Whom do you know at Page Six, and how can I reach her and tell her exactly what I'm doing—or would you do me the honor?"
"Double good for you," her agent said. "Let me make a call."
Laine stayed at the office until nine, ordering Chinese takeout and hiding behind her computer. She had seen the staff members, in profile, pausing outside her door all day, felt the hush descend when she walked to the cooler.
When the hour grew late enough she trudged home. Gerald had been home, the doorman said, but he'd left again. Laine smiled, tightly. The building staff had probably known for months. How did they choose their loyalties? Had it been Laine having the affair, would they have let slip a clue to Gerald?
In the apartment, taking advantage of the respite, Laine moved a few nightgowns and toiletries and changes of underwear into Maya's room and locked the door. Her chosen fate was to lie in her daughter's single bed that night with the light on, staring up in the glare at posters of British rockers from the 90s, all slanty haircuts and scowls. A few teddy bears and china animals lingered on the shelves, blanketed with dust. So she remained inert there even when she heard Gerald come home and shuffle around, loudly, clumsily, looking for his sunglasses, which she had taken rather venomously with her into Maya's bed. She had placed them sideways on the pillow so that they would face her, but they kept flopping over, as though she couldn't look the situation in the eyes.
She must be strong in her resolve to stay away from Gerald and his hangdog face and his soft hugs and his eyes lighting up when she entered the room—or hiding behind the slick glare of the lenses, being gazed at by something that couldn't see her. She had to make her choice alone, in this hard, narrow bed. Well, hard metaphorically, anyway--they had loved Maya enough to buy her a nice mattress.
After a fitful few hours of sleep, Laine gave in to insomnia and walked into the kitchen. She called her friend Sharon, who lived twenty blocks north and would be up at dawn for pilates.
"It's a mistake, honey," Sharon said. "He made a mistake."
"But he publicly humiliated me. Everyone in the city knows."
"Okay, so people in your office know. Big whoop. In New York, that kind of publicity is only a good thing. Plus he's a sweet man. Plus plus, this happens to most people, only they're not famous enough to get written up about." Sharon said. "Men just do this when they get older. And you were lucky to catch him when you did."
"Catch him? I didn't catch him in flagrante delicto, Shar. That would have traumatized me for life."
"Ha ha Laine. I meant catch as get him to marry you. You always say that. He pursued you without even knowing what you looked like. I find that so romantic," she said.
"My picture was in the newspaper," said Laine, "I'm sure he knew what I looked like," but she heard the defeat in her voice, a metallic weight pushing out her words.
The narrative of her having been alone for all those years before he rescued her from some version of contemporary spinsterhood proved difficult to elude.
Was it too late to call the divorce lawyer, to call Page Six, and take it all back, just like she'd taught the kids to symbolically suck regretted words back in with a big intake of breath? Whoosh--all was forgiven.
Sharon's points could be acknowledged—she had been lucky to meet him. He was sweet. But he also, as Alex reminded her in an email from Berlin later that day, "doesn't give two shits about anyone. I admit that on my good days I love Dad a lot," he wrote, "but you seriously need to consider whether he's dragging you down, mom. Maya and I will side with you, of course," he wrote (how thoughtful). "PS the beer here is off the hook mom."
"Sounds delicious, and wonderful. Soak it all up, but watch out for anyone who uses the phrase 'master race' or lebensraum," she wrote in response.
Holocaust jokes. She was sinking to a new low.
Laine doubted that Maya would adjust to a split easily, despite her daughter's righteous-babe posturing. She had left home and now home was breaking up? What a nightmare. The therapy sessions would rack up quickly.
What a paradox she faced. If they stayed together, Gerry would be lonely, kept apart in familial exile. If she left him, she'd be the shrewish career woman who drove him into the arms of someone else, someone fun and vivacious. Any initial triumph would give way to bitterness, solitude.
She paced the living room with a glass of sherry in her hand, touching the spines of their library. 24 hours ago he had told her. Yesterday Maya had been here.
Now it was so still, so abruptly. No kids, no husband. No Maya kicking her ball against the wall of her room, or Alex playing videogames, or cellphones buzzing with text messages and computers beeping with chats.
"I'm talking to a lawyer," she texted Gerald. "Thought u should know."
"Please, can we talk?" he asked. "Coming home in a few."
She responded by pouring a fifth of vodka, which was his alcoholic beverage of choice, into his favorite plant—the one he expected her to water every day.
She would leave him, she swore; she would be like Nora in "A Doll's House." The family breakup would hurt her daughter now, but she'd be setting a good example.
She flopped down on the couch, stretched out her legs, and leaned back, reveling in the prospect of freedom. Why not take a nap now, and think later? Yes, with no meals to fix, no wounds to soothe, why couldn't she nap, tipsily, on the couch?
Tomorrow, Sunday, a new item would grace Page Six. She had told her agent to place that call. Her name would be in bold. It would say she'd lawyered up. There would be fallout. That would be tomorrow. She closed her eyes, whispered to herself, "it's okay, Laine. It's okay," and slid out of consciousness.
The phone ringing through the darkness of the early morning awoke her. She tossed off Alex's fleece blanket (where had it come from?) and ran to answer it. The acrid smell of alcohol was thick in the air. Gerald had come home.
She could barely hear Sharon through the gulping sobs on the other end of the line. "It's Rina," said Sharon. "She fainted in front of a train tonight and fell on the tracks—she's gone. Cameron's with her parents now. Oh, Laine, this is the worst thing that has ever happened. The worst, the worst…"
Laine collapsed on the floor in a howl, the phone between her neck and chin, and shook with horror. Impossible. She had seen Rina just yesterday, full of vim.
But possible, because anything was. Anything could be obliterated in an instant. A marriage, a life, a family.
No one would care about their divorce now, a thought buzzed into her mind, and she swatted it away. She didn't care about their divorce now. Poor Maya. Her sweet daughter, who would have to fly home again, to bear witness. Laine's voice came out in coughs, her words came out as retching. Her face was soaked already.
Then Gerald came in, and swept her up in his arms. There was no other way to describe it. He took the phone, told Sharon she'd call back. He instructed her to lie down. He held her on the couch, and began to speak to her, to calm her, to reassure her.
His baritone voice filled up the apartment that was both of theirs, at least for now.


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1215 South Walnut Ave.Demopolis, AL 36732 map
Access to Care: 1-800-239-2901
DivorceParentingLife IssuesElder CareChild Care
with much passion and good humor, this work is a delight to share, and in its
audiobook version (read by the author), deserves an audience well beyond its
original target (his own daughters). Begun as a project designed to provide a
frank, confessional "Dad's advice for daughters", writing down
thoughts before speaking in the fear of simply embarrassing himself, there is
much for everyone here -- mothers and sons, grandparents, and singletons alike.
am not fully in agreement with all of the views expressed (and Yes, the 'how to
deal with guy stuff' is rightly included), but there is much 'good, solid
advice' that I could list here (and the reasons why I like them). Van Munching
takes on issues with TV soap operas (their poorness as role-model provision and
why few of us 'out here' cannot be saved by the commercial breaks as the actors
so often are!), physical possessions (how and why to get rid of them), fate and
romance (why 'soulmates' rarely turn out to be such), boyfriends (include how
to identify the right one, and how & why to get rid of them if they are
not!). However, the author also has a tendency on occasion to preach a little
with regards certain do's and don'ts with respect to his own lifestyle choices
and personal beliefs. For example, rather than listing the cautions associated
with tattooing and body-piercing, I would have preferred to hear more about
young ladies being encouraged to think about what their bodies are designed to
DO, rather than how they look; or to be better schooled in how to
explain about the exclusiveness and intimacy of sexual activity, rather than
being told simply that it is so. However, many parents may forgive Van Munching
for these omissions given his honesty and depth of genuine concern in offering
to share his values with such personal humility and openness.
surprising feature of this volume (at least for me) was its welcome scattering
of occasional references to significant gender issues with regards the personal
and social 'differences' between boys and girls, and especially so as they may
relate to their post-pubertal adolescent years. Many teenagers would do well to
consider the real-life experiences of the author, and his reflections upon them,
in explaining the possible causal factors giving rise to the finding that boys
and girls of the same age so often explain their behavior (both their own and
that of others) very differently. Indeed, for those parents neither able nor
willing to discuss some of the more sensitive issues raised here, I would
certainly suggest their considering giving this book to their children to read
(both boys and girls) – with the hope that they may thereafter at least have
been exposed to its specific content, which will surely be of great interest to
them all.
not an academic book based on research findings, but neither a volume to be
consigned solely to the humor shelf, this is a welcome addition to the
bookshelf of anyone wishing to provide serious, yet entertaining, discussion
material designed to aid young ladies (and young gentlemen) through their
journey from middle-school right through to their college and university days.
2006 Tony Dickinson
Tony Dickinson, Washington University School of Medicine, St. Louis, MO. USA., & People Impact Consulting (Asia).
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The last thing Bryant �Fluke� Stallings told a cousin before he headed home from a nearby uncle�s home Friday night was �I can�t wait to wear those shoes tomorrow,� said first cousin Dre Brant
The last thing Bryant �Fluke� Stallings told a cousin before he headed home from a nearby uncle�s home Friday night was �I can�t wait to wear those shoes tomorrow,� said first cousin Dre Brant
But Stallings isn�t walking in the shoes another uncle offered to give him as �we all hung out near the �big field� in Craven Terrace.�
Gunfire between Stallings and New Bern Police Officers Alexander E. Thalmann and Justin R. Wester about 11:45 p.m. Friday took away that chance for the man Brant and others in the neighborhood and businesses near Duffyfield described as �a man who loved to make people laugh.�
Stallings is dead. Wester was treated and now released at Vidant Medical Center for a wound in his leg and Thalmann, shot in the face, remains there in serious condition.
The 33-year-old New Bern native Stallings attended New Bern High School and many who knew him said he was well liked. They said he could often be seen riding his bicycle while wearing ear buds as he listened to music. He was good to his mother and his girlfriend.
�He was a comedian; anything he�d say would make you laugh,� Brant said, as he stood Saturday morning with a friends near the site of the Oak and Elm streets shootings that had kept the area lit up with search lights until sunrise Saturday.
Shawn Pack, whose mother�s apartment was hit with the gunshots that killed Stallings in the Friday night incident, said �he was always a nice guy.�
Old classmate Shanta �Slim� Smith, whose apartment was temporarily walled off, said, �He didn�t bother nobody. He�d just ride up and down the street on his bike and go on about his business.�
But Stallings was carrying a pistol, which he fired at the two New Bern policemen in separate but close encounters as they tried to stop him for questioning.
�He always carried,� said Brant. �You never know what may have to deal with out here.�
Craven Terrace is a large New Bern public housing project, which has had multiple shootings in recent years and is thought to have some gang activity.
Changes have been made in the New Bern Housing Authority in the past two years in an attempt to improve the project�s condition and problems, reconsidering the idea of so many low income people clustered so closely.
It has considered curfews for residents and the Authority received a planning grant to explore new ways to more safely and positively house New Bern�s low income population.
A private corporation has also been formed to work as an affiliate to New Bern Housing Authority to help find ways to update housing.
District Attorney Scott Thomas on Saturday that said, �Stallings has a brush with the law but he is not in the system now.�
With no outstanding warrants, it is unclear why Stallings was stopped and New Bern Police Chief Toussaint E. Summers Jr. did not say why at a Saturday afternoon news conference.
Brant said, his cousin �always said he wasn�t going back to prison but he wasn�t the one they were trying to stop. They stopped him because the person he was with had warrants out and he slipped away.�
A State Bureau of Investigation report expected in two weeks should include some of the answers Craven Terrance residents and Stallings� family have about the incident.
Sue Book can be reached at 252-635-o5665 or firstname.lastname@example.com. Follow her on Twitter@SueJBook.


text:
MSI GeForce GTX 760 2GB MINI-ITX Gaming OC Video Card Review (Page 15)
Sleeping Dogs
Version and / or Patch Used: Latest Steam Update
Timedemo or Level Used: Built in Benchmark
Developer Homepage: http://eu.square-enix.com/en
Product Homepage: http://www.sleepingdogs.net/
The core gameplay of Sleeping Dogs consists of giving the player an open world environment in which to move around freely. Sleeping Dogs is played as an over-the-shoulder, third-person perspective action-adventure game with role-playing elements. The player controls Wei Shen, a Chinese-American police officer, as he goes undercover to infiltrate the Sun On Yee Triad organization. On foot, the player character has the ability to walk, run, jump, climb over obstacles, and swim, as well as use weapons and martial arts in combat. Players also drive a variety of vehicles, including cars, boats, and motorcycles.
Sleeping Dogs sees the MSI GTX 760 2GB MINI-ITX Gaming OC perform extremely well at all resolutions. You can see that even at the highest resolution we manage a strong 78 FPS.
Last updated: Apr 7, 2020 at 12:32 pm CDT
PRICING: You can find products similar to this one for sale below.
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- Page 1 [Introduction and Package]
- Page 2 [The Card and Specifications]
- Page 3 [Benchmarks - Test System Setup]
- Page 4 [Benchmarks - 3DMark 11]
- Page 5 [Benchmarks - 3DMark Fire Strike]
- Page 6 [Benchmarks - Unigine Heaven Benchmark]
- Page 7 [Benchmarks - Phantasy Star Online 2]
- Page 8 [Benchmarks - Lost Planet 2]
- Page 9 [Benchmarks - Just Cause 2]
- Page 10 [Benchmarks - F1 2012]
- Page 11 [Benchmarks - Metro Last Light]
- Page 12 [Benchmarks - Dirt Showdown]
- Page 13 [Benchmarks - Nexuiz]
- Page 14 [Benchmarks - Sniper Elite V2]
- Page 15 [Benchmarks - Sleeping Dogs]
- Page 16 [Benchmarks - Hitman Absolution]
- Page 17 [Benchmarks - Tomb Raider]
- Page 18 [Benchmarks - BioShock Infinite]
- Page 19 [Benchmarks - Battlefield 4]
- Page 20 [Benchmarks - High Quality AA and AF]
- Page 21 [Temperature Test]
- Page 22 [Sound Test]
- Page 23 [Power Consumption Test]
- Page 24 [Pricing, Availability, and Final Thoughts]


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Story highlights
- Until now, bereavement has always been excluded in the diagnosis of depression
- New guidelines might allow depression to be diagnosed after two weeks of grieving
- Dr. Charles Raison: No one has found anything magical that differentiates depression, grief
I am starting to think that there are no answers to the issues most worth writing about, at least in psychiatry.
Consider the following scenario: A woman who has been mostly happy in her marriage for 30 years comes home to find her husband dead on the floor, the victim of a heart attack.
At first, she is numb with shock. Slowly, as the days pass, she becomes more and more upset. She cries at any mention of her husband. She can't sleep. She can't eat. Nothing seems worth doing, and even if it was, she wouldn't be able to concentrate enough to get it done.
Sometimes she wishes she could die to be with her husband. Fifteen days after her husband's death, she goes to a doctor, who diagnoses her with major depression and puts her on an antidepressant.
If this scenario bothers you, it is likely because you feel the doctor has created an illness out of what most would consider normal grieving -- that he has trivialized the woman's loss by giving her pills to make it go away. If this is your reaction, you are not alone.
An editorial published Wednesday in the prestigious medical journal The Lancet takes the American Psychiatric Association to task for changes proposed in the next edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual, which is the guiding document of psychiatry in the United States.
Until now, bereavement has always been excluded in the diagnosis of major depression. Not anymore. The current draft of the fifth version, known as DSM-V, will allow major depression to be diagnosed two weeks after the death of a loved one.
Major depression is a serious illness that profoundly impairs function, disrupts relationships and is a significant cause for early death. So it would follow that anyone who is upset most of the day, nearly every day, for at least two weeks after the death of a loved one is sick and needs treatment.
Yet the editors of The Lancet write: "Medicalizing grief, so that treatment is legitimized routinely with antidepressants, is not only dangerously simplistic, but also flawed. ... Building a life without the loved person who died cannot be expected to be quick, easy or straightforward. Life cannot, nor should not, continue as normal. ... Grief is not an illness; it is more usefully thought of as a part of being human and a normal response to death of a loved one. Putting a time frame on grief is inappropriate -- DSM-V ... please take note."
Hard not to agree. But consider the following scenario:
A woman who has been mostly happy in her marriage for 30 years comes home to find her husband having sex in their bed with her best friend. The husband tells his wife that he is terribly sorry, but he is in love with her best friend and will be leaving her.
At first, the wife is numb with shock. Slowly, as the days pass, she becomes more and more upset. She cries at any mention of her husband. She can't sleep. She can't eat. Nothing seems worth doing, and even if it was, she wouldn't be able to concentrate enough to get it done. Sometimes she wishes she was dead. Fifteen days after catching her husband in his indiscretion, she goes to a doctor who diagnoses her with major depression and puts her on an antidepressant.
Whereas the bereaved wife only gets depression status in the new DSM, the wife in this scenario would have qualified for a diagnosis of major depression for more than 30 years.
Doesn't this seem inconsistent at best, and perhaps disingenuous at worst? Is there really something magical about the loss of death that should give it a privileged status compared with other horrible losses in life, all of which are perfectly acceptable gateways into a diagnosis of major depression? Do we really believe that although the women in the two scenarios I've described experience exactly the same symptoms for the same length of time, the biological causes underlying these symptoms are somehow different just because one woman's loss involved death and the other woman's loss involved betrayal?
In fact, many years of research has failed to find anything magical that differentiates bereavement from depression.
Yes, there are studies showing that bereavement has slight differences in symptoms when compared with other types of depression. But there is also powerful data showing that all sorts of life stressors produce specific symptom patterns within depression, so this is nothing unique to bereavement.
Yes, most people who are bereaved eventually recover, but so do most people with depression, regardless of the inciting incident, or lack of one.
So that's the rub, and the rationale for removing bereavement as an exclusion from the next version of the DSM. And yet ... and yet, it still doesn't sit right. Should logic really so thoroughly trounce sentiment and tradition?
I would like to modestly suggest that the reason this dilemma is interesting, and has no answer, is that it is essentially wrong-headed, at least in light of what science is revealing about human responses to adversity.
We all tend to feel good when things go our way; we feel we are generally winning in the game of life. People who perceive themselves in this way are happier, healthier and live longer than their more pessimistic compatriots.
On the other hand, we all tend to feel anxious and depressed when we lose things and people of value to us, or when we lose in competitions or are shamed or lose status. Feelings of anxiety and depression can't last very long in humans without other symptoms following in their wake. This is for the simple reason that the mind is connected to the brain (or created by the brain), and the brain is connected to the body.
All over the world, people who are anxious and depressed also develop problems with sleep, appetite, concentration and energy. They feel badly about themselves and begin to feel like failures. When it gets intense enough, they want to die to escape their misery. This pattern of emotions and physical changes appears to be hardwired in humans, with some people being very vulnerable to this response and others being fairly resilient.
Sometimes the arising of these emotions and symptoms prods a person to make changes in his or her life for the better, and the experience is rightly seen as an essential component of growth and spiritual development. Sometimes these emotions and symptoms lead a person down into years of despair and misery, into a realm of diminished accomplishments, love and purpose.
What a pity that we as clinicians don't have crystal balls to accurately predict which path any given person will follow.
We can't look to the cause of the symptoms for clues, because that doesn't help. In fact, the only clue that even remotely approaches "crystal ball" status is how long the symptoms have lasted. The longer a person is depressed, or bereaved, the longer he or she is likely to remain in that state and the greater the long-term damage is likely to be.
So if you ask me how long someone should be allowed to remain in a state of bereavement before offering treatment aimed at resolving this condition, I have no answer.
Nor, to the best of my knowledge, does anyone else.
As I said at the beginning, there are no answers to the issues most worth writing about, at least in psychiatry.


text:
MADISON, Wis. (AP) – Frigid temperatures in Wisconsin are keeping plumbers busy.
They're dealing with frozen pipes that burst in residential properties.
Luke Bauer of Monona Plumbing & Fire Protection says every homeowner should know where their water main shut off valve is located. He tells WKOW-TV that it's the first thing to do if a pipe freezes.
The city of Madison also has issues with its water system. Crews have been working around the clock to repair at least a dozen water main breaks throughout the city this week. Madison water utility spokeswoman Amy Barrilleaux said there wasn't enough insulating snow on the ground before temperatures plunged.
Forecasters don't expect temperatures to get above zero Wednesday in northern Wisconsin.
Information from: WKOW-TV, http://www.wkow.com


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Calendar of Events
The Gross Gathering
June 13, 2013
Flooding in your basement or backyard? Don't suffer alone!
Help us document your stories, and work with you to develop swift, affordable, neighborhood solutions.
Share flooding experiences on the 'Soap Box' ● Meet with contractors and officials ● Bring your wet basement photos for our montage and Civic Techarette ● Tell your story on camera
Reframing Ruin Exhibit
February 28-August 22, 2013
at the CNT Energy location
1741 N. Western Avenue
Open gallery hours for the public are from 5:00 – 8:00PM on the following Mondays:
March 18, April 15, May 13, June 10, July 8, and August 5.
Or by appointment.
Contact firstname.lastname@example.com to schedule a visit.
Reframing Ruin: A Prelude to the Bloomingdale Trail is a photography exhibition presented by Friends of the Bloomingdale Trail and The Trust for Public Land.
For nearly a century the Bloomingdale freight line has rolled across and above the City's Northwest side. Today the tracks are aligned to transform the Bloomingdale into an elevated, mixed-use, linear park and trail. Reframing Ruin showcases the community's documentation of the future trail, its relationship to the diverse neighborhoods it cuts through, and how we currently interact with this stretch of land through photography.
Sponsored by:
Center for Neighborhood Technology
CNT Energy
Rebuilding Exchange
Hot Chocolate
In Partnership with:
Youth Service Project
Learn more about the project here>>.


text:
I'm really a map kind of girl. You have to be, in my line of work. Editors don't take kindly to journalists who can't dig up even basic information, such as how to get from Point A to Point B. Surely, they reason, a reporter is not going to uncover the next Watergate if she can't even find the nearest Walgreens.
I'm really a map kind of girl.
You have to be, in my line of work. Editors don't take kindly to journalists who can't dig up even basic information, such as how to get from Point A to Point B. Surely, they reason, a reporter is not going to uncover the next Watergate if she can't even find the nearest Walgreens.
And so, by sheer necessity, I've come to love my maps over the years. Mapquest.com and RandMcNally.com are saved on my computer's "Favorites" list. I keep an entire U.S. atlas, plus city maps, in my car. And most importantly, my pride isn't hurt one bit if I have to stop to ask for directions.
But past experience tells me that I'm not in the norm here. More than one friend has gotten lost on their way to my house, telling me accusingly about their mishap even while admitting that they brought neither a map nor my written directions. Likewise, plumbers, florists and furniture-delivery men consistently call my house, asking for directions. This particularly irks me, because I believe it is their job to not only carry a map but to use it liberally.
Alas, I think the paper street map is fighting a losing battle. It is, after all, being replaced by the increasingly popular GPS.
In case you haven't picked up a Best Buy ad in the past several years, personal global positioning systems are mounted right into your car. They have maps pre-loaded into their tiny computer brains, and they will give you step-by-step instructions as you drive.
The downside to GPS, in my opinion, is that the system will never actually tell you to consult a map or stop and ask for directions. In its little computer brain, the GPS always is consistently, annoyingly right. This makes it extremely popular among men, even though it has been known to send drivers the wrong way down one-way streets.
I've used a GPS exactly one time in my life: while camping in the barren Nevada desert. This is the type of activity GPS excels at: helping you get around a place with no 1) gas station attendants, 2) street signs or 3) actual streets. In this case, GPS serves to prevent the frightening "Moses episode," in which you find yourself wandering around the desert for 40 years.
Outside of the desert, however, I don't see much need for one. But because I'm married to a member of the species who can't help but drool over these things, I recently took the plunge and went GPS shopping. It was a particularly painful experience, seeing as I'm the kind of woman who feels I should actually be paid to set foot in an electronics store. There are no shoes, no purses, no cosmetics and no clothes in these stores. The prices are ridiculous. People use funny words such as "bytes" and "watts." It's like forking over half a paycheck to shop on Mars.
Because I wanted to keep my shopping trip as brief as possible, I did a bit of research ahead of time on GPS products. This entailed asking other women which system their husbands liked, then narrowing it down to the least-expensive ones. I then price-shopped online, found the best deal and headed into the store.
Of course, as these things go, I opened the paper the next day to find a competitor's ad offering the same thing for $20 less. Presumably, I could return the original GPS in exchange for the cheaper one. But as moms of toddlers know, some things just aren't worth $20 — and prying your child's fingers off every breakable electronic in the store is one of them.
But perhaps this whole GPS thing will wind up to be a turning point for me. Maybe I'll find that folding up my old-fashioned maps should be a thing of the past, that the GPS is something I just can't live without.
Hey, if it learns to give a pedicure and facial with those directions, I might just be on board.
Rockford Register Star


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