Archive for the ‘news’ category

Prayers (and Thoughts) For Abby Sunderland

June 10, 2010

Feeling sad and worried about little Abby Sunderland tonight, the 16-year old girl who is missing in the Indian Ocean in the midst of a round-the-world voyage.  Also feeling alternately sad for, and upset with, her parents.

Finally, I’m feeling guilty, guilty to write about this when the parents already must be suffering terribly.  So I want to start by saying I wish that nothing but good comes from this voyage, that Abby is found promptly, that she is safe and uninjured, that she receives a heroine’s welcome, that she is reunited with her family, and that she gets whatever wisdom the experience offers her and also whatever benefits fame can offer her.

And now, after all that, I want to say that there is a reason that 16-year olds are not legally competent to sign a binding contract; there is a reason that they are traditionally tried as juveniles; there is a reason why in the eyes of the law they are treated as infants and not adults.

The reason is that they are considered too young to fully understand the possible consequences of their choices.   Because of this lack of understanding, i.e. immaturity, their relevant adults– parents or guardians–are legally charged with making important choices for them.

In the modern age, however, there is no longer much notion of being “too young” for anything.  (It’s a new addition to the canon of Wallis Simpson, the Duchess of Windsor: “you can never be too rich or too thin.”) We confuse the vitality and beauty of youth with smarts, innate wisdom, a cool invulnerability. Kids want to pursue extreme activities that put their youth, their long-term health, and sometimes even their lives at risk—from nonstop training for Olympic sports or pro-tennis, to modeling careers, to concert tours, to solo trips in small boats around their world—and their parents, often incredibly loving parents, view their job as to “support” these youthful drives rather than to act as moderator, protector, shepherd, guide; the drive for fame and fortune and some form of “bestness” is just so strong.

A childhood (and possibly childish) dream is born, and the culture acts as if it is destined, with enough determination, to become a dream come true.

Of course, the dream often doesn’t come true (maybe not ending in calamity but simple failure, burn-out).  But the culture is determined to find fairy-tale endings, a magic of obstacles surmounted.

I feel terribly terribly sorry for the entire family, and pray for the absolute best.

Repeal of the Estate Tax – A Capital Gain For the Rich–What About the Rest of Us?

June 9, 2010

No Step-Up

In dying this year, Dan Duncan appears to have become the first U.S. billionaire to leave a multi-billion dollar estate to his children and grandchildren free from U.S. estate tax.  This avoidance of U.S. estate tax does not result from charitable giving, nor from the clever use of U.S. estate tax loopholes, but from a curious quirk of the Bush tax cuts of 2001, which repealed the estate tax for persons dying in the year 2010.  Only.

Under the Bush tax cuts, the one-year 2010 estate tax repeal is “sunsetted” next year, 2011.  At that point, the federal estate tax will come back into force with a vengeance, with higher rates and lowered exemptions, limiting the amount passing to non-spousal and non-charitable heirs, without federal estate tax, to only $1 million.

What this means is that if you are a relatively wealthy person and your heirs are likely to have tried very hard to keep you alive on December 31, 2009, but may not try nearly so hard on December 31, 2010.   In other words, if you are a wealthy old person, or wealthy young person, trust no one this year!  Don’t let an heir touch a hair on your head!

For the last ten years, trust and estate attorneys have made jokes about the prospective 2010 effect of the Bush tax cuts, sure that the Federal Government would act to change the rules before the end of 2009.  But in December 2009 congressmen were so fearful of being tagged as voting for an increase in the notorious “death tax” that no agreement was reached.

This is not a post about the unfairness to wealthy people of a weird one-year loophole.  Nor is it about the dangers of allowing increasingly high concentrations of wealth in the society.  Nor even about the dangers to old rich people from greedy heirs.

No, this post is about how this year’s rules (surprise! surprise!) actually raise the prospective tax burden of the middle class and lower.   Here’s how it works:

(Because I’m a lawyer, I’m going to start out by saying that this is a vast oversimplification, even though it will sound very complicated.  I’m also going to say that nobody should rely on this post for tax advice.)

Actually, I just spent about four paragraphs writing my oversimplification and then, in sympathy for you, I cut it. I’ll just go for the juglar:

In 2009, a person could leave an estate of 3.5 million or less (not including bequests for spouses and charities), without federal estate tax.  Under the traditional (non-2010) rules, appreciated assets that were inherited got a “stepped-up” cost basis to their value as of the date of death of the decedent.  This meant that the assets could be sold by heirs with relatively reduced capital gains tax (or, if sold promptly, with none at all.)  This also means that in 2009, the heirs of a person with an estate of approximately 3.5 million or less did not have a federal estate tax burden, and actually had some federal income tax benefits, related to the death.

In 2010, the Bush tax rules offset the loss of fiscal revenue from the repeal of the estate tax by eliminating the capital gains benefits that had previously been granted on dying.   Just as there is no estate tax, there is, in 2010, no “step-up” in cost basis for the appreciated assets of the deceased.  For the very wealthy, this exchange of tax burdens is a bonanza—(i) because capital gains tax rates are considerably lower than estate tax rates;  and (ii) because capital gains tax is only assessed if gains are actually realized, i.e. when assets are sold.  Many wealthy heirs may not need to sell inherited assets, such as stock or jewelry or houses, or can offset the gains by realizing losses on other assets.

However, the loss of the capital gains step-up imposes additional tax costs on those less wealthy people whose estates would not have been subject to the federal estate tax under prior rules, but who now will have to pay higher capital gains taxes on the sale of inherited appreciated assets.   (Keep in mind that the lower cost basis will not get changed at the end of this year, so could affect sales far in the future.)

So once again (even after Bush leaves office), his tax policies favor the rich.

The amazing thing to me is that no one is talking about this.  (Yes, I know it’s complicated.)

Even weirder is the feeling I have that many lower and/or middle-class Americans, who seem to have a perverse habit of rooting for economic policies which do not, in fact, favor them, may be happy about the one-year repeal of the estate tax.  I imagine them thinking that it’s a blow against big government, not realizing, of course, that they may personally pay the price tag.

IRS CIRCULAR 230 Disclosure:  To ensure compliance with requirements imposed by the IRS, please be aware that any U.S. federal tax advice contained in this communication (including any attachments or enclosures) is not intended or written to be used and cannot be used for the purpose of (i) avoiding penalties that may be imposed under the Internal Revenue Code or (ii) promoting, marketing or recommending to any other person any transaction or matter addressed herein.

iPad Sunnyside Up–Let Me Just Check My Mail

June 7, 2010



iPad Sunnyside Up

The  New York Times has a couple of articles this morning on how technology is re-wiring our brains; you can find them if you check online—excuse me a sec, I’ve got a new gmail coming in.

The articles talk about the mental and emotional price of a life hooked into, and hooked on—oops—there’s my cell….gizmos.

(Sorry, sweetie, I’m writing my blog.  Can I call you back in two minutes?)

Some people think multi-tasking makes them more productive, but studies show it makes people actually accomplish less, and encourages a kind of shallowness.

Did you know, btw, that Robert Pattinson won MTV awards for best actor, global star, and perpetrator of best 2010 screen kiss last night?   (Does ManicDDaily have her finger on the popular pulse, or what?)

One article depicts a software executive (hey, what do you expect?  The guy’s a software executive, head of a start-up, in Silicon Valley), who “works” in front of three or four large video screens.

In the photos of the guy’s family , they all have iPads.  Even the kids.  The guy even reads Winnie the Pooh on an iPad to his littlest kid.  In bed. (I know it’s kind of awful, but the graphics are also amazing!)

I can’t help wondering if the article will be good for Apple stock.

(I’m just going to check that, okay, it’s bookmarked, so won’t take a mo.)

The guy’s wife say it’s hard for him to be fully in the moment, that when the emotional going gets tough, he escapes into computer games.  But then one of the articles cites a kid who texts a lot in school and that kid says that the “the moment”–that is all the time she spent in school before she had texting–was incredibly lonely and isolating.

I feel sympathy for the kid, but isn’t loneliness and isolation part of what school is all about?  Childhood?  Has she not read Jane Eyre?  Virtually any Dickens?   (I’m sure they are on Kindle.  Maybe even for free.  Or Google Books?  Let me check a sec.)

Oops, there’s my other email, office, you know, my crackberry, the red light is blinking—do you mind?

Promoting Non-Self-Promotion–Whitman, Dickinson, (Jim) Joyce and Armando Galaragga

June 3, 2010

Self-promoter?

Yesterday, I wrote about stress and success, but what I really wanted to write about was my antipathy towards self-promotion.

Self-promotion is a major currency in our culture.  Many believe that fame, celebrity, translates into wealth; that notoriety is an achievement of its own.  (See e.g. Richard Heene, father of balloon boy.)

I personally have an exceedingly hard time with self-promotion.  I don’t mind it so much in others;  I well understand that a certain kind of self-touting is necessary to get attention in our culture, and that, for all my wish to deny it, attention can translate into a kind of power (book sales, ticket sales, advertising and endorsement contracts, appearances on “Dancing With the Stars”).

But, the idea of my self-promotion, that is, my own self-promotion, seems acutely, horribly, embarrassing.

What can I say?  I was raised as a Lutheran (which seems to instill, in its adherents, an overwhelming sense of inadequacy), admire Buddhism (which finds triumph to be illusory in any case), and I’ve been formed (culturally) by the stiff upper lip of English literature.  Besides all that, I am a woman.  (In my generation, feminine modesty did not just mean keeping your clothes on.)

(When I think of historic restrictions on women’s self-promotion as compared to men’s, my mind turns automatically to Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman ; while Walt, sounding his “barbaric yawp,” openly identifies himself as “Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Manhattan the son,….Divine am I inside and out, and I make holy whatever I touch or am touch’d from,” Dickenson writes, “They shut me up in Prose–/As when a little Girl./ They put me in the Closet—/Because they liked me “still”—”)

Agh!

Putting me aside (thankfully), I have been heartened by the recent hubbub around two wonderful non-self-promoters—Detroit Tiger pitcher, Armando Galaragga, and supremely penitent umpire, Jim Joyce.  Nothing could have been more graceful than the rueful smile of Galaragga when his perfect game was blown by the wrong call of Joyce, umpire at the first base line during the critical 9th inning third out.   Joyce’s open and sorrowful admission of his mistake was equally refreshing.   (Even the reporters listening to Joyce’s apologies were taken aback, one of them actually telling the ump that he was only human.)

Given our culture’s quest for both celebrity and happy endings, both men will probably get more fame and fortune from Joyce’s wrong call and Galaragga’s acceptance of unfairness than they would have gotten had the perfect game been achieved without incident.  (Society loves a story!  Society loves meaning!  Maybe the whole incident will result in the use of instant replays!)

Still, that doesn’t diminish the men’s grace and sincerity, and the wonder of a modern, heartfelt, and very public, apology.   A pretty perfect interlude no matter how the game is ultimately classified.

Fleet Week – Where are you, Horatio?

May 26, 2010

Fleet Week in New York (See Statue of Liberty in background!)

It’s Fleet Week in New York!   It corresponds, oddly, with my current personal absorption with Horatio Hornblower, the mythical hero of C.S. Forester, who through a series of eleven books makes his way through the ranks and at least some of the depredations of the British Navy during the Napoleonic Wars.

It’s an interesting testament to the power of narrative that I had a very hard time tearing myself from the printed page of Forester’s Ship of the Line this morning to watch actual battle ships course down the Hudson, right next to my apartment building.   (So much for living in the moment.)

I just wanted to stick with Hornblower, even though the ships were hugely impressive, and lined with living, breathing human beings.

Much has changed since Hornblower’s time.  The U.S. Navy ships seem inordinately plain compared to Hornblower’s schooners, frigates, ships of the line, with their top gallants, topsails, reefed topsails, mainmasts, mizzen masts, jury masts, rigging,  netting, and long nines.  There are a few small towers of gizmos, presumably related to radar, but for the most part, these new ships are large slightly curved trapezoids of painted grey.

It’s hard  to imagine these huge wedges of steel as the descendants of the beautiful, if gnarly, sailing ships of the British Navy.  Though there they were–men (presumably women too) lined up in rows of white (the sailors) and dark blue (the marines), roughly in the same divisions of rank and service as on Hornblower’s ships.

Other similiarities: decks!  Portholes!  (Wait–are there portholes now?) Starboard, port, stern, bow, lee, tack–vocabulary.

Space constrictions–though I expect modern seamen have more than 18 inches per hammock.

Some monotony of food?  But, hopefully, today’s soldiers  do not have to tap their sea biscuits to scare out weevils.  (They only need to be concerned about trans fat and high fructose corn syrup.)

What else do Forester’s sailors and today’s share?  The sea!  The sky!  The horizon!  Occasional seasickness!

Reading C.S. Forester makes one very conscious that conditions of the British navy during the Napoleonic Wars were almost unimaginably severe, especially with so many sailors press-ganged to begin with.  (Hardly a volunteer force.)

Scurvy, disease, amputation, the requirement of absolute obedience at the threat of flogging, court martial, hanging.  Though, actually, the biggest danger seems to arise from the incompetence and/or greed of supervising officers. (Hornblower, of course, excluded.)  And too, less-than-reliable allies.

Hmmm….

Of course, what ultimately makes the books compelling is not the politics, the tacking and heaving of sails, or even the discussions of sea biscuit, but the character of Hornblower himself — outwardly indomitable, inwardly hyper-sensitive, noble (in spirit if not rank), brave, and amazingly quick-witted even when in a near stupor of fatigue and stress.

Did one of his spiritual descendants sail by this morning?

Maybe.   (I, for one, was too busy reading to notice.)

Even Stouter than Hornblower?

Kristoff’s Moonshine, Hirsi Ali’s Feminism, “Honor Killing”

May 23, 2010

A couple of articles in the New York Times today are enough to make a woman a feminist for the sake of bettering the world as a whole, and not simply the lot of women, (although since I am already a feminist, I may not be a good judge of that. )

One from Nicholas Kristof describes the situation among the poor in Africa where spending choices by fathers favor alcohol and cigarettes over anti-malarial mosquito netting and children’s tuition fees.  To combat this problem, micro-bankers are trying to put more money in women’s hands, as women tend to be more likely to spend money on the welfare of their children than on their personal habits or pleasures.

Another article by Deborah Solomon, portrays Ayaan Hirsi Ali, an ex-Muslim woman, the author of Nomad:  From Islam to America, and discusses the Islamic view of women as family property, only with the twist that women are property that is capable of devaluing itself (like silver that self-tarnishes, an oven that self-chars.)

To some degree, the articles discuss unpopular topics; some in the West are so anxious to compensate for cultural biases and depradations of the past (and present)  that they are reluctant to criticize, or even acknowledge, practices that are unjust and oppressive.  This, to my mind, is political correctness at its worst: when there is a pretense that all points of view are equally valid and that cultural norms (even those that are unjust to women and children) are somehow fine simply because they are foreign and/or tradiional.)

Here is a poem on the subject on honor killing.   It was inspired by an incident in the Middle East where a brother killed a sister suspected of dishonoring her family:

Honor killing

The knife slides in,
with force.
She is thinner than he has remembered,
her collarbone sharp as
a hook he thrashes upon.
Mind snags heart, but
cannot aim for breast,
only the knife can look past nipple.
Smaller than he’s remembered,
with too-soft skin that folds within
whites of eyes big as
blade.
He tries to think
of flame, the filmy body
of smoke, the dryness of
ash, but blood,
fountains,
in honor of
the righteous,
fountains.
Why has she made him,
righteous,
do this,
with force.

The Benefits of Being Embarrassed. (Before Being Found Out.)

May 18, 2010

Untethered

I have been thinking about a post I wrote this morning about Richard Blumenthal, illustrated with a drawing of burning pants (liar liar pants on….)  and I am concerned now that I was too arch, too glib.

The fact is that even though I feel pretty disgusted by  Blumenthal, I also can’t  help but feel sorry for him.   He’s had a long career, a distinguished career, which now seems to be in tatters because of stupidity, hubris, and, perhaps, cowardice (fear of embarrassment, fear of consequences.)   Who knows how the original exaggerations got started?  Perhaps he did feel a true connection with those serving in Vietnam;  perhaps he really did feel spat upon when he finished his long-avoided service with the Marine reserves.  Probably, he genuinely does feel sympathy for returning veterans.

Is any that enough to excuse his mischaracterizations? No.

Nor is it an excuse to look to our culture–its emphasis on self-promotion and anecdote, where expertise is frequently alleged on the basis of minimal experience (see, e.g. Sarah Palin on foreign policy based on neighboring Russia).

I’ve recently been reading the Horatio Hornblower books by C.S. Forester, about the perfect English seaman in the Napoleonic Wars, and also just finished watching the new episodes of “Foyle’s War” about the perfect police detective in Hastings (England), at the end of World War II.   In the old-style British traditions explored by each of these narratives, the heroic impulses are just the opposite of those so common today.   These heroes are not only stiff-upper-lipped; they are close-mouthed.  They forbear to advance themselves through reference to even true accomplishments; a self-touting speech would be deemed unseemly, undignified, even dishonorable.

But we live in an age of self-promotion, an age when memoirists and fiction-writers alike make up their autobiographies; an age too where everyone takes credit for the good stuff, points fingers with respect to the bad, avoids liability at all costs.  (People use words like “taking responsibility” but shy, ultimately, from “owning up.”)

None of this lets Blumenthal of the hook.  Still, what does it all mean?   That we should look for politicians who have the strength and integrity to sometimes be embarrassed, or even openly ashamed, of themselves?  In advance of being found out?

Hmmm…..

Richard Blumenthal’s Pants

May 18, 2010

Richard Blumenthal's Pants

Breathtaking spectacle of Richard Blumenthal, Democrat, Attorney General in Connecticut, running for Senate.  You’ve probably heard already–he’s the guy who got five deferments from military service in the Sixties, then joined the Reserves (which, unlike now, was a safe harbor from combat service, and basically consigned him to community service in D.C. and New Haven rather than transport to Vietnam)—and , more recently, has cited his service in Vietnam, or homecoming from Vietnam, in speeches that leave the impression he actually was there.

One big question comes to my mind, well, two big questions—the first being variations on how could he do it?   Oh, I’m sure there’s some casuistic explanation.  But how could he look himself in the mirror afterwards?  How could he actually utter the words?

The second is, why?

Actually, scratch the why.   Obviously, he thought active military service would seem more appealing, less effete, to a wide cross-section of voters than, say, Yale Law School.

So, I guess my second question is how in the world did he think he could get away with it?  We live in a world where the past is public.  Did he honestly think no one would check?  Granted, the press tends to largely feed off itself, simply repeating repeating repeating one brave soul’s original reporting; but in a campaign!? !

The answer to this question seems to be that, in addition to problems with integrity, Blumenthal has problems with common sense.   It doesn’t seem to me to be stupidity (which shows, I guess, a certain bias on my part towards the basic intelligence of  Yale Law School graduates).  Maybe egomania?  Maybe… arrogance.

The commentary of people reading about Blumenthal is interesting, in part, because it is so partisan—about half seem to say, “what do you expect?  He’s a Democrat.”  The other half:  “what do you expect?  He’s a politician—just like Bush and Cheney.”   And the other half (and my proportions may be a bit off here):  “what do you expect?  He’s from Connecticut.”  (Sorry, Connecticut.)

And then there are the realists.  Correction.  Maybe I should call them the wishful thinkers:  they simply say, he’s finished.

PS – they talk about strong politicians helping the election of others in their party with their “coattails.”   Will there be a drag-down effect of Blumenthal’s liar liar burning pants?

Gritted (Pleasing) Teeth–Important Tool In the Kit for Women Seeking Raises and TIME.

May 14, 2010

Pretty Please

Although I really do try to keep my work life separate from my blog life, I wanted to weigh in on an interesting article by Tara Siegel Bernard in today’s New York Times, “A Toolkit for Women Seeking a Raise.”

I’ve never asked for a pay raise.  This reflects well on my employer, who I have always believed to be both generous and tolerant.  But it is also apparently typical of women, even more typical (I fear) of women of my age and  and generation (middle/end of baby boom, beginning of feminism).

On the other hand, I am someone who, years before it was fashionable, negotiated flexible work arrangements due to the different pulls of child care, creative life and work life.

I’m not sure if these factors truly equip me to comment on the article, but here I go:

Two things jump out at me: first, a new study conducted at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government, which found that women “need to take a different approach” than men to requesting pay raises, an approach which is “more nuanced” and “avoids undermining their relationship with their boss.”

As Hannah Riley Bowles, an associate professor at Kennedy says, “we have found that if a man and a woman both attempt to negotiate for higher pay, people find a women who does this, compared to one who does not, significantly less attractive…. Whereas with the guy, it doesn’t seem to matter.”

Sorry, but, DUH!

Anyone who has followed Hillary Clinton’s political career knows how difficult it is for women to assert themselves in our culture and still be considered very likeable, (as opposed to “likeable enough”.)

The range of what is considered attractive, both on a physical and a behavioral level, is simply narrower for women than men.   This range does not allow women much leeway for self-assertion.

What Professor Bowles seems to say, in fact, is that in order to negotiate a pay raise and keep a boss’s good opinion, a woman needs to grit her teeth (but not visibly), and please.

To give Professor Bowles credit, her advice is based in pragmatism.  Still, there’s something awful about it.

Another point of the article that struck me discussed women’s negotiations on child care issues.  Bernard  here cites Paula Hogan, a Milwaukee based financial planner, who tells women to take responsibility for a need to be with children.  As Ms. Hogan points out, most companies are not going to say, “Gosh, I notice you have three kids now. Would you like Tuesdays off?”  Women need to think through what they want and then ask for it.

Of course, Ms. Hogan is right.  One additional piece of advice I would offer is that once you figure out a solution, and (if you are lucky), get your employer’s agreement, then you need to grit your teeth again, and stick to your agreement.

I cannot overemphasize the “gritting your teeth” part of this equation.   The fact is that employers may be fair-minded enough to agree to a certain amount of flexibility—but that doesn’t mean that they will be thrilled by your late arrival (because you took your kids to school), or assist you in meeting an early departure (so you can pick up your kids at school).   Nor will your employer feel particular sympathy for the fact that, even with the flex-time, you are still gasping for breath.

As a result, in order to keep this kind of split arrangement going you may have to give up on some of the pleasing, and just take the agreed flexibility.

One further piece of advice:  once you do leave the office, be very very sure that when you are with your child to enjoy that walk (or drive)  home from school.

V-E Day (Back in My Mother’s Day)

May 8, 2010

My Mom's Favorite Flower

May  8th.  Anniversary of V-E Day.   Mother’s Day tomorrow.   Anyone who knows my mother (my wonderful mother) knows that this is a thought-provoking juxtaposition.

It seems to me very difficult for young, or even middle-aged, Americans today to conceive of the impact of World War II on the generations who lived through it.  There’s so much tribute paid to the War at this point—the stern stone eagles at the World War II memorial in Washington, D.C., the heavy Samuel Barber music that accompanies so much WWII footage (at least on YouTube), even the high-flying term the “Greatest Generation”.   The bunting of commemoration makes it very hard to see the truly memorable; the grandiosity somehow diminishes the greatness, both of the effort and the suffering.

The magnitude of loss is also something almost impossible for Americans today to understand.   Most of us know a little about the millions of lives lost.  Sometimes smaller numbers are more comprehensible: I read today, for example that the two and a half months of the Normandy Invasion cost the lives of nearly 20,000 French civilians.  As a comparison (not intended to diminish the level of suffering there), it is estimated that 90 Afghani civilians have died since the beginning of this year.

Which brings me to my mother.  (Hi Mom, if you ever read this blog!)

My mother was neither a WAC or WAVE, but had the curious experience of working as a civilian in both the U.S. occupation of Japan and Germany, closely following the end of the War in both theaters.   She is rightfully proud of her experiences.  And she truly was intrepid—she came from a small town in Iowa, a farming family, which was very very far from post-War Japan.  Her dad actually drove her by horse and buggy to catch the train that would take her to San Francisco where she would embark for Yokohama.

While she is proud of her own grit, and the grit of her generation, my mother does not believe in the greatness of war.   When the subject comes up (even sometimes when it doesn’t come up), she speaks passionately of her memories of cities flattened, whether by the Atom Bombs, or incendiaries—she visited both Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as well as Tokyo and Dresden.  She talks too of the massive fields of white crosses in France, the large mass grave sites in Russia, the grim, death-scented, ovens in Dachau.   Her visits to these places impressed her beyond measure, and she is anxious to pass on her memories, to somehow make them as vivid and meaningful to others as they are to her.  Even though she is absolutely certain of the horror of the Nazis, though she loved FDR, though she is very proud of my father, a veteran of both the European and Pacific War, she has no faith in war’s value to solve conflicts; it all just seems like killing to her, killing until people are sick and tired of killing or being killed, something to be avoided at all cost.

I don’t always know what I think.  I consider myself a pacificist, though I’m not completely certain of peaceful solutions in a irrepressibly violent world.  Still, it seems to me useful to pay attention to voices of experience, and, of course, the voices of mothers, even though listening to one’s own is almost invariably a little bit hard.