Disclaimer: I am neither a PETA enthusiast nor a Ted Nugent drone. I eat meat, and have done so all my life. I have been to a slaughterhouse and seen how cows are euthanized. And let me tell you, I’d prefer death by a quick shot to the brain to living the life of an egg chicken. The recent discoveries linked with the salmonella outbreak have once again brought to the forefront the horrifying cruelty of people who view animals as only the bottom line. So goes the demise of a real hen house where chickens lay eggs, scratch dirt, peck at feed, walk around and cluck, and sleep in a comfy nest. We can’t produce a half a million eggs a day like that, now can we?

Without opening up a huge, protracted discussion on food ethics or government policy (because, as I am wont to say, harsh words are often spoken with no minds being changed), something must be done about the deplorable conditions surrounding egg production in this country. Why are these egg “farms” even allowed to exist? They should be closed down for the simple reason that it is unconscionable to put an animal in an eight-and-a-half by eleven-inch space and never allow it to move.

If someone did this to a dog or cat, he would be fined and perhaps jailed. But the torture of these poor hens is allowed to go on with impunity. (I won’t provide links to the hidden-camera revelations — it’s too sickening.)  Makes about as much sense as television commercials showing almost-naked women in Victoria’s Secret commercials, but never showing a single person take a drink in a beer ad. Ridiculous and stupid.

It’s likely useless to argue the point, and I know there are thousands of atrocities (against animals AND humans) being perpetrated every day. Choose your cause, and there’ll be evidence to support you. I’m just zeroing in on this particular travesty this day. It’s a shameful testimony to the greed for which our country and its industries are becoming infamous. Blah.

Fink, having fruit and yogurt for breakfast

I’m sure that phrase has crossed the brains and lips of many horrified teenagers over the last five years. And although my children are no longer teenagers, I try to make sure to not embarrass them on Facebook. Since my children, step-children and daughters-in-law are also my friends in “real life,” I think we’ve all done a pretty good job. Lars does not do the Facebook thing, but I love him anyway because he is my baby boy.

Notice I didn’t say anything about not embarrassing my children in blog posts.

I read an article yesterday about people over 50 getting into the whole social networking scene. This is news? I guess I’m among the exceptions: the people who’ve “been on the Internet” since around 1993-94, when brands like Mosaic, Netscape and Usenet were cutting-edge. When nearly *everyone’s* connection to the Internet sounded like this. So I take exception to the over-50 crowd’s techno savvy being viewed as such an anomaly. Dang kids anyhow.

Somebody’s car alarm is going off. Eight thirty on a Sunday morning, and there’s a car alarm going off at a house down the street. I hope it isn’t Lars and Helen’s…haha

Anyway, I saw a funny feature on Time‘s site. Why Facebook Is For Old Fogies lists ten reasons. Among them:

We’re not bitter about high school anymore. You’re probably still hung up on any number of petty slights, but when that person who used to call us that thing we’re not going to mention here, because it really stuck, asks us to be friends on Facebook, we happily friend that person. Because we’re all grown up now. We’re bigger than that. Or some of us are, anyway. We’re in therapy, and it’s going really well. These are just broad generalizations.

How true, heh. Some of the reasons don’t apply, but others hit home. Speaking of hitting home, I wonder how many teenage readers identify with this website. I thought it was funny, but I wouldn’t have 35 years ago, you know? Then again, I’m an old fogie who’s just now discovered she can “get on that Facebook page.”

There goes that car alarm for the third time. I’ll be back later. Must go find the Louisville Slugger and take a walk.

Random Neuron Firings

As the summer of 2010 comes to an official close with the first week of school now in the books, there is much to ponder. As fall approaches (signified by my sitting here in my parlor with a sweater on), I think it’s safe to say that the summer of 2010 was likely the best, busiest, and most revealing of my life. Behold:

1. I took an amazing vacation with the Thriller (with more to come next year, yay).
2. Mavis and I added a couple of very special people to our family. More on that at a later date.
3. Jake and Justin spent lots of time with us — that alone could make an awesome highlight film.
4. For the first time in my career, I did not spend several days a week at school during the summer.
5. Spent some fabulous time with BFF Kay and Bob.

Yet, some things remain undone and unattended, as is the norm around here. Not enough time or discipline or opportunity or whatever to get thus-and-so taken care of.

This summer, I didn’t:

1. get rid of those nasty 20 lbs.
2. redecorate my classroom
3. get all my photos arranged in albums
4. do my annual eBay summerummage sale
5. take boxes and boxes of stuff to Goodwill
6. choreograph a single routine for Singin’ in the Rain
7. plant a garden (not that I would have been home to see flowers and tend veggies)

But honestly. If I analyze the two lists, what I didn’t do fades into insignificance compared to what I did, ja? So does this mean all is well in my world, and everything is good?

Yep.

This morning I opened an email from RtB fiend (and my writing hero) Ross, asking me if I’d ever been to Sporcle.com. Well, I hadn’t even heard of it, so I went.

Big mistake.

Now I’m running completely late — as if that doesn’t happen often enough anyway. But man, did I ever nail the Beatles Opening Lyrics quiz. Still, I’m just sayin…if you do not go there, you stand a good chance of getting a timely start to your day. If you go there, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Thanks, Ross. Sheesh…

Happy Finkday! It’s a good day (unless you’re Adam, Bando or Rae, who get to schlep bands to football games tonight).