Nobody Knows Anything

Welcome to Diane Patterson's eclectic blog about what strikes her fancy

Journalism 101

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From Americablog, the blog that brought you the Jeff Gannon scandal:

According to my source, Gannon’s insider tidbits were always on the mark. “Gannon’s stuff was always golden,” the producer says. My source says they kept asking themself, “how does this small news outfit get this info?”

Now, I’m not going to get into this story (for one thing, Americablog has been all over it; for another, I can’t believe we have to debate whether or not hookers should have White House press passes under fake names), other than to say: The problem with our current press corps in a nutshell!

“How does this small news outfit get this info?” How, indeed? Why, it’s so puzzling, someone oughta get right on it, do some investigation, figure it out!

Too bad we don’t have anyone around capable of, say, taking an extremely puzzling question and, you know, trying to find the answer.

Calling all Congresscritters

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Call your Congressperson! You may tell them something they didn’t know.

I called Congressman Mike Honda’s office today in Washington and I asked the nice young man who asnwered the phone (who, I assume, was not Mr. Honda) what the Congressman was planning to do in regards to the execrable deal the Department of Justice made with Wal-Mart>.

“What deal?” the man asked.

“Well, basically the DOJ made a settlement with Wal-Mart in regards to a child labor case that said, Hey, Wal-Mart, from now on, you go investigate yourself.”

“What?”

He might have been acting, but if he wasn’t I have the feeling he might make a note of it for the Congressman. I told him to call George Miller, find out what’s going on over there. Clearly no one else has called the office about this.

Call your Congresscritters, folks. Evidently the Democrats aren’t getting out word to their own side of the aisle fast enough. Do your part. The phone call’s not that expensive.

Find your Representative’s contact info.

Find your Senator’s contact info.

A good night’s sleep

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No, not for me. Well, maybe for me; but for right now, it’s the kids.

They’re already in bed. Possibly asleep.

The defining factor of the afternoon is When does Simon fall asleep? Everything depends on that: he falls asleep around 2 these days, so I plan on getting most errands done before 2 pm, with perhaps one or two after he wakes up around 3:30 or 4 pm. I am a slave to his afternoon rhythm.

Today we went to the gym around 11. At least, the first time we did. When we got there I discovered we needed to go home to get something, so it was back into the car, go home, turn around, return to gym. Simon’s eyes were fluttering at that point. Although it was earlier than he’s been napping lately, he could have dropped off very easily if I’d driven any further.

We left the gym around 12:30, and it was clear the kids needed lunch. So did I, for that matter. I thought Simon would fall asleep on the way home, but he didn’t. So, they had lunch—each asked for cereal, strangely enough—and I decided they could watch a show afterward, which would help Simon fall asleep.

No, they just played.

At 2 I realized I was in the danger zone: if we left to do any errands now, Simon would immediately fall asleep, which would necessitate turning around again. I wanted him to fall asleep without the rigamarole of getting into the car.

Didn’t happen. He was sleepy, he was staggering around like a sailor on shore leave, he would lay on the ground…no sleep.

At 4 I knew if he fell asleep any time soon he’d be up again by 6 and then stay up until 10 or so at night. So it became imperative to keep him awake. I made him his favorite snack, Nutella on toast, while I made up a batch of mac-and-cheese. (No need for me to go all out: Just me and the kids tonight for dinner—damn you, Tiger.) The kids ate their mac and cheese and then happily got into a bubble bath to play. They didn’t even want a long bubble bath, which I was prepared to let them have. Nope, it was out of the bathtub and into pj’s. They asked for a few books; I read them two each.

I said, “You can play for a little bit while I go downstairs and have some dinner, okay?” Well, sure, they said Okay but they meant No way, lady. I ate one forkful of leftover halibut a la provencale before I needed to go up and separate the two of them. I waggled my finger and said, If I need to come up here again, it’s lights out.

I had to go up again. The lights were turned off.

After a few minutes of a chorus of, “Daddy! Daddy! I want my Daddy!” all sound has ceased. They’re asleep by 6:30, a good 90 minutes before their usual bed time.

I hope this doesn’t mean they’re going to be up by 5. They just need a lot of sleep tonight, right?