Nintendo DS divides a family

My niece, Kendall, turns seven next month and the only thing she wants for her birthday is a Ninentendo DS.

This portable gaming system is about $150 and because of the high price tag, I asked my younger sister and parents if they want to purchase this gift together and it would be Kendall's one birthday gift. My younger sister said she's in. But my parents - specifically my mother - said absolutely not!

Her argument is that Kendall is just turning seven and it's way too much money to spend on such a young child. She accused me of spoiling Kendall by getting her what she wants no matter the price and referred to the $175 telescope she got for her birthday last year. Kendall's really into astronomy and I thought it was important to support her interest. She could be a future astronaut, for crying out loud! My mother also said I'm setting Kendall up to believe that she should get whatever she asks for.

My argument is that Kendall is a good girl; makes good grades and it's the only thing she's been asking for for months. She started talking about her birthday about three months ago! Yeah, it's pricey, but that's the going rate for game systems and that's what kids are into and have been into for years. I had an Atari 2600 when I was just one year older than Kendall. I have no idea how much it cost, but my parents bought it for me because it was hot and I wanted it. Kendall's no different from me at that age.

I talked with my older sister, Kendall's mother, about the DS. She said she doesn't have a problem with me purchasing the system for Kendall. That's all the go-ahead I need.

My husband and I don't have kids, so we feel it's OK to spend money on our nieces and nephews, to even spoil them. Isn't that what aunts and uncles are for anyway?

Kendall will be alright if she doesn't get the DS; her world won't come to end. But with the DS, her birthday will be even sweeter. And if I can have a part in putting a cute crooked smiled on my niece's face, then point me in the direction of the game.

What do you think? Is $150 too much to spend on a gaming system for a seven-year-old?

Are you registered to vote?

I worked my first voter-registration drive Saturday.

I did a four-hour shift at an outlet mall in Elizabeth, NJ. It was the perfect place for a drive because there was a ton of foot traffic.

In four hours, I registered 23 people!

It felt good to have a hand in making sure people register to vote. A large majority of people who passed my table said they were already registered, which was good. I registered a 17-year-old who's birthday is today. As long as you're going to be 18 by November, you can register. It was my gift to him. I also registered several 20- and 30-somethings who had never registered because they weren't interested in voting until now.

There was only one woman, who was eligible to register (there were a lot of immigrants in the mall) who I couldn't convince to sign up to vote. She said her vote didn't count and that the government was going to put in office who it wanted there. She referenced Bush and how he lost the popular vote in 2000, but he ended up as president anyway. I told her that she was giving away her power by not voting, that this time could be different, but she didn't want to hear it.

Registering people to vote is only half the battle. There are so many folks who are registered who don't vote. If I could personally walk those 23 people I registered to the polls Nov. 4, I would. I hope the excitement of voting the first time doesn't wear off by this fall and the new registrants exercise their rights.

My next drive is Friday evening at a local grocery store. Hopefully, I'll have just as much luck.

Make sure you're registered to vote! And then, VOTE!

"Black in America" disappoints

I watched CNN's Black in America last night and was ready to turn in my black card when it was over.

Reporter Soledad O'Brien spent two hours highlighting just about negative aspect of the black community. It was basically a report on how blacks have failed. When it was over, I said out loud, to myself, "Is this all that black people have amounted to?"

As a member of the media and a minority, I try to always be cognizant of the way blacks are portrayed in the newspapers and on television. People always say reporters find the most ignorant blacks to put on television or quote in the papers. Yes, there are unintelligent blacks in the news all the time, but in my experience, those are the ones usually willing to talk. I feel safe writing that in the majority of cases, reporters just want to get the quote and head back to the newsroom. So, if the woman with the Marlboro Light hanging from her mouth, wearing a robe at 3 p.m. with a head full of rollers is at the scene talking, I'm writing and broadcast reporters are filming.

I say all that to say getting quotes from uneducated people in a breaking-news situation is different from what O'Brien did in her special, where she used a feature format to only focus on the negative. She had time to find someone or something positive. With breaking news, it happens fast and a reporter's main goal is to get the story fast.

Instead, she reported that blacks are uneducated. Blacks live in poverty. Black women can't find a good black man. One in 20 black women in D.C. have AIDS. Blacks don't have insurance, so they have to use emergency rooms. And so on.

Most of this information is already widely known in the black community, so I'm not sure what O'Brien wants us to do with it. There was no commentary on solutions to get ahead. And no mention of Democratic Presidental Candidate Barack Obama other than the section on biracial Americans.

In giving her the benefit of the doubt, maybe O'Brien hopes the documentary begins a conversation. Maybe she wanted to show the black community their problems all at once so we will start thinking about solutions.

Even with last night's special being a downer, I'm going to watch tonight's on the black man. I can only imagine how O'Brien will show my brothers.

Reality show is full of irony

I couldn't sleep last night, so I ended up watching "Tori and Dean Home Sweet Home Hollywood," the reality show based on Tori Spelling's life. It's not a show I tune into every Tuesday, but I've seen it before.

During last night's episode, Tori and Dean, who on the show are expecting their second child, but in real life, have had this baby, were registering for their baby shower. The paparazzi were everywhere outside of the store trying to get a picture of the couple looking at baby items. It started with about five, then grew to 10 and finally, to 40, which is ridiculous.

But what's even more ridiculous was Tori's comment when Dean announced there were about 40 photographers outside: "We're trying to have an intimate moment."

What? Does she realize that her life is being filmed for a weekly TV show? And that everything about her life ceased to be intimate when she signed the contract with Oxygen? There are no intimate or private moments left, Tori.

I actually laughed out loud when those words came out of her mouth. So, it's OK that the Oxygen camera crew follows her into the store while she's looking at bibs and bathtubs, for ultimately the world to see, but she gets upset when someone, even 40 someones, want to take her picture. It doesn't make sense to me.

I'm not a fan of the paparazzi when they're hounding someone famous who wants their privacy. There's no need to take a picture of an actor at the grocery store; they have to eat, too. But when your life is knowingly being recorded for TV, the paparazzi should have free reign.

Loaf of bread stands the test of time

My husband and I have been eating off of the same loaf of bread for four months and it hasn't molded.

If you've read my blog before, you'd know that we haven't been in a cooking mood lately, which means we haven't really been going grocery shopping. Instead, we're on a first-name basis with the take-out guy.

The expiration date on this Arnold's 12 Grain wheat bread is April 9. My husband noticed it Sunday as we were making egg sandwiches - we do have eggs in the frig and opted to cook that morning rather than go to Sunday brunch. As he was grabbing the loaf of bread, I mentioned that I didn't remember the last time I bought bread. He glanced at the expiration date and frowned.

"What's the date?" I asked.

"You don't want to know," was his reply.

I love feeling like I've beaten the odds when I eat something past the expiration date that hasn't molded. So what if that yogurt has a June date on it, if it doesn't smell, I'll eat it.

I asked my husband again, and he said, "April 9."

Wow! True victory!

"I'm blogging about this," I said, feeling supremely satisfied that we'd got our monies worth.

I don't know what the folks at Arnold's are putting in their bread, but it amazes me that this loaf is still soft, tasty and and free of anything fuzzy. According to the website, it's made of "The finest wholesome ingredients like cracked wheat, sunflower seeds, oats, barley, brown rice and molasses create a delicious, hearty taste in each slice."

Arnold's will be my bread of choice from now on. We have about four slices left, so maybe by September, it will be time to purchase another loaf.

Bigger isn't always better

My husband and I are going house hunting this weekend.

We've been toying with the idea of ditching the suburbs to be closer to New York City. I would love to move to "the city," what folks who live in the Jersey suburbs call NYC, but my husband enjoys a more relaxed, less crowded environment. So, we compromised: If we can't live in the city, let's at least live close to the city. Right now, we're about a 45-minute train ride from NYC. We'll be looking in the Jersey City/Hoboken area, which is about 10 minutes outside of the city. And both are easily accessible to the city by the train and ferry.

We have a three-bedroom, two-bathroom house now. It's about 2,600 square feet if you include the full, finished basement. Unless we get lucky and find a steal, we'll be downsizing to a two-bedroom condo. For the sake of our sanity, we'll need at least 1,500 square feet and a garage for my husband's new motorcycle. And because the area is right outside of New York, we'll be paying twice as much for about half the room.

In a era when bigger means better, some have asked why we're downsizing. It's just the two of us now. We don't need our backyard; hardly ever use our deck; never use the fully-furnished office and only use the guest bedroom when someone is visiting. For us, right now, it's too much space.

And some say we're foolish to pay more for less, but I say you pay for what you get! I love the appeal of the city - bright lights, big city! My eyes light up whenever I see the New York skyline on TV. I love the culture, the food, the eclectic people. There's nothing like it. There's a vibe about New York that's unmatchable.

It took seven months and about 60 houses before we could agree on the house we finally purchased. There was so much overpriced crap for sale four years ago, that we had to wade through the sludge to find something in our price range that didn't need a major overhaul. I'm hoping the process the second time around won't be so painful.

The housing slump will be a double-edge sword for us: Sellers are desperate, so they will hopefully be flexible. But this time around, we're sellers, too, and will want the best price for our home. But fortunately, we don't have to move. If our house doesn't sell, we'll just take it off the market until the economy is better. New York City will always be there, waiting for us to move closer to reap its benefits.

Objects of desire

Have you ever looked at the wanted section on craiglist? There's some crazy stuff on there. It's amazing what people are looking for.

If you're not familiar with the site, it's like an online garage sale. People post items they want to sell, including real estate and cars, but they also list items they want. All major cities and most smaller cities have pages on craigslist.

I had some extra time at work today and thought I'd checked out the wanted sections for New York City, Hattisburg, Miss., Odgen-Clearfield, Utah and the San Fransisco Bay area. Other than NYC, which is my default page for craigslist, I chose random places to see if the smaller the area, the more weird the wanted items became, only to find out that there are quirky needs everywhere.

The most strange - and creepy - was a man in Hattisburg looking for an "attractive house wife."

Here's his plea: "Single Father of 10 Year Old son seeks a Female House Mate. Must be willing to relocate to Mobile. Should you have children of your own that is fine with us. Please have a picture and be willing to exchange on the first email. I do not want to waste your time, or you waste mine. This ad is for real. Jim."

I kind of feel sorry for Jim.

A man in NYC is willing to pay $100 a month for a space to park his 2007 Audi he hardly drives. If you've ever tried to park in the Big Apple, you understand his pain. It's already hard to find a spot to park in NYC, and once you do, on most streets, you have to move your car - at the crack of dawn - to the other side for street so it can be cleaned - the street, not your car. Here's a photo of the cars in action.

Also, in NYC, someone's willing to pay you $1 if you have a box for a 32-inch TV and someone's looking for 50,000 people to send him $1 each. Here's the address if you want to pledge: P.O. Box 48, Douglas, Mich. 49406.

If you have a trampoline net, you can get $1 for it and $9 for a fixer-upper car.

Other odd wanted items in NYC include a jazzercize T-shirt, Legos and a massage partner. I can only imagine what that's for!

Heading south to Mississippi, someone's looking for funny stories about people getting high. Huh? And then there's the ad for people willing to sell their hair. The woman who placed the ad said she's setting up a website for "serious" people interested in buying human hair. She's willing to pay $5 for your locks.

In Utah, someone's looking for scratch-n-sniff stickers, hold on, from the 1970s and 1980s. Gotta love the specifics! And a couple posted their engagement picture on craigslist asking for someone to marry them. You guessed it, they're broke and want the service for free.

In San Fransisco, a low-income, disabled woman wants $2,000 to take a massage class; another person wants fresh fish. What? And yet another needs "all kinds of balls."

If you have a Dublin High School class ring from 1974-77, someone in the Bay area's looking for one and a shoe shopper needs a Nordstroms' discount. Don't we all!

Funny, I didn't see any postings for world peace.

New Yorker cover goes too far

The editors said it's satire and they were making fun of the rumors that Democratic Presidential Candidate Barack Obama is Muslim.

Satire, mocking rumors or not, the New Yorker's cover of Obama and his wife, Michelle, depicted as terrorists, is insensitive and goes too far.

I'm not a subscriber to the New Yorker, but if I were, I could cancel my subscription. Call me sensitive, but I'm highly offended. The editors are feeding into the rumors and someone may look at that cover and truly believe that the Obamas are Muslims, when they are actually Christians.

Obama spokesman Bill Burton said, "The New Yorker may think...that their cover is a satirical lampoon of the caricature of Senator Obama's right-wing critics have tried to create. But most readers will see it as tasteless and offensive. And we agree."

The New York explains that the cover "combines a number of fantastical images about the Obamas and shows them for the obvious distortions they are."

In the magazine that hit newsstands Monday, the cover also shows the couple standing in the Oval Office bumping fists, which they made mainstream to white America, and burning the American flag in the fireplace.

The only thing right about the cover is that the Obamas are in the White House.

How young is too young to get an email address?

My six-year-old niece, Kendall, has a Gmail account.

I'm not sure how I feel about this: On one hand, I think she's too young to have an email account because it symbolizes how fast she's growing up. But on the other, she is growing up and getting an email address is just a part of life.

Kendall, who will be seven next month, just got the account yesterday. My younger sister, who is not Kendall's mother, set it up after Kendall told her a child's website was asking for her email address. My niece didn't even know what an email address was before yesterday.

I couldn't find any data about six-year-olds with email addresses, but according to the Pew Internet and American Life Project, which tracks Internet use, 87 percent of 12-17-year-olds have an email account. That percentage is higher than any age group up to 90-year-olds. And there are websites out there just for kids who want email addresses. A popular one is Kids Online (KOL), which is AOL for kids.

I don't want my niece to grow up too fast, but at the same time I don't want her to get left behind the technology boom. Technology is everywhere - cell phones with Internet capability and cameras; GPS devices, cars that park themselves. Everything is quick and convenient these days.

It shouldn't amaze me that Kendall knows how to use a computer, but it does. She's been using them at school for a couple of years now and uses her parents' at home. She knows how to turn it on and type in a handful of web addresses - all kid friendly, of course.

She's also into texting, which blows my mind. When I saw her over the July 4th weekend, she grabbed my BlackBerry Curve and asked if she could send a text. We sent one to my younger sister, who was in route to Memphis for the holiday weekend. "This is Kendall," she texted. "Hurry up and get here :)." Her little fingers slowly finding the letters on the keyboard made me laugh. She certainly wouldn't win a texting contest.

Even though I'm on the fence about Kendall having an email address, I'm looking forward to my first email from her. We recently became pen pals after she complained that mommy and daddy get mail everyday and she doesn't. We've been writing each other letters every week since May. I look forward to getting the short notes written in second-grade handwriting with a drawing that always made me smile.

Maybe that's what's bothering me: I'm afraid Kendall will stop writing letters and only send emails. Emails can be impersonal. No penmanship. No drawings. And if she eventually reverts to only emails, I will miss running my hand over the heart or animal she drew just for me. I won't have anything to hang on my frig.

Hopefully, I can have it both ways - occasionally, we'll send an email, but the weekly letters will continue for life.

A funny thing happened on the way to the kitchen

My husband and I remodeled our kitchen early spring. When we bought the house more than four years ago, the first thing we wanted to renovate was the kitchen. At the time, the house was 23 years old, and I imagine the kitchen hadn't been updated during those two decades. But after plopping down all of our available cash for the down payment and closing costs, little was left for a kitchen remodel.

So, we painted the dark oak-colored cabinets cream to brighten the space, painted the cream walls khaki and my lovely father came from Memphis to rip out the vinyl floor and lay ceramic tile. Back then, that's all we could afford - a can of paint and some free labor!

But four years later, after painting nearly every room in our three-bedroom house, installing decorative baseboard and transforming a half bath/laundry room to a spa-like full bath, we were ready to tackle the kitchen.

Everyone says when company's over they congregate in the kitchen, and it's true. We love to entertain, and even in the ugliest kitchens, people still gather there. We couldn't wait to have a designer space to showcase. And we also love to cook. I record shows on the Food Network. And my husband likes to experiment with recipes. He'll just go to grocery store, buy a bunch of random ingredients and create a meal. Before the remodel, we were alternating weeks cooking with the understanding that if it's your week to cook, the other would do the dishes, which was big, considering we didn't have a dishwasher.

But since the new kitchen, which has contemporary cherry-wood cabinets stained mahogany, (some with glass fronts) staggered throughout the space for effect, and stainless steel appliances, including a dishwasher (yea!), there's been no interest in using our kitchen.

The kitchen was completed the second week of May and since then, we've probably turned on the stove five times and the oven even less than that. The new cafe table's been used once. For two people who love to cook and were dreaming about a new kitchen for four years, we don't know how to act now that we have one.

Jesse Jackson's comments make me question his reverendship

From now on, the Rev. Jesse Jackson will just be Jesse Jackson to me. No title needed.

After his unChristian-like comments about what he'd like to do to Sen. Barack Obama, I'm questioning Jackson's walk with God.

Jackson, after an interview on FOXNews, thought the microphones were off when he said to Reed Tuckson of the UnitedHealth Group that the Democratic presidential candidate's been talking down to blacks on the faith-based issues. Then Jackson said, "I want to cut his nuts off."

Is Jackson's hatred for Obama really so strong that he wants to mutilate him? Some may argue that Jackson's comments were just an expression, but what would move a supposed reverend to use such wrathful words?

Jackson apologized to Obama. But was Jackson sorry for his crassness or that he got caught? And even if Jackson truly wants to cut off Obama's privates, why would he say that with a mic pinned to his lapel? Jackson should be media savvy enough to know that just because the producer says you're not on the air, that unless you're out of the building, there's still a chance you could be heard by the public.

Jackson not only embarrassed himself, but his son, who publically chastised his father, using the senior's words against him. Jackson Jr. told his father to leave Obama alone and "keep hope alive."

Some politicos said that Jackson is jealous of Obama's success. Jackson ran an unsuccessful bid for president in 1988. Jackson may also feel left out because Obama hasn't asked Jackson, who endorsed the senator, to take a role in his campaign.

Whether Jackson is feeling slighted or not, there was no need for his comments. Hopefully Jackson's learned a simple lesson from his faux paux: If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

Carbon footprint leaves me feeling like Big Foot

I wear a size 6 shoe, but that has nothing to do with my carbon footprint, which is 22.95 tonnes.

I calculated my carbon footprint this morning to see what kind of impact I'm having on the environment, and it's bad. The average U.S. carbon footprint is 20.4 tonnes; it's 11 for the average industrial nation and 4 tonnes worldwide.

The website, carbonfootprint.com, takes how much energy you use at home, in your ride, the number of flights you take per year and whether you take the bus or train, and combine that with if you eat meat or organic foods, buy second-hand clothes and how often you remodel you home, to determine your effect on the environment.

The website also gives you tips on how to reduce your carbon footprint.

I try to be conscious of the environment: I use reusable bags at the grocery store and recycle plastics, aluminum and cardboard. But according to the website, I'm not doing enough. I need to be more cognizant of what I eat and where it comes from. I need to buy foods and products with very little packaging. I need to turn off the lights when I leave the room; unplug appliances and electronics when they're not in use and maybe open a window, rather than turning on the air. These are all easy changes that I am going to try to incorporate in my life. It's a win-win. I will save money and help the environment at the same time.

What's your carbon footprint?

My first pedicure

I'm 33 years old and I got my first pedicure Saturday.

I've always thought pedicures (and manicures) were a waste of money because my toes have always looked cute after I've painted them. People compliment me on my toes and they ask where I get my pedicures. There's a look of shock when I tell them I painted my toes myself.

It's not that I was never exposed to pedicures. My mother has a standing appointment at the nail shop every other week. Every birthday, anniversary and mother's day, she asks for gift certificates to get her toes done. My younger sister gets her toes professionally painted almost as much as my mother. 

Friday night, my younger sister announced she was getting a pedicure Saturday and asked me if I wanted to go. I thought about it and agreed, thinking I would finally see why people pay $35 plus tip for this service.

We arrived at the nail shop, took off our shoes and soaked our feet in warm bubbling water. The lady removed my existing toenail polish and began to rub my feet. She scrubbed the bottoms to make them smooth and used a sugar scrub on my legs to shine my skin, all this while I was sitting in a vibrating chair.  The woman quickly painted my toenails - a clear coat, two color coats and a top coat - without letting the layers dry. The entire experience lasted about a half hour.

I glanced at my toes and thought, "It looks the same as if I had painted them. Forty bucks wasted." 

When I paint my toes, there's no warm water, sugar scrub or vibrating chair, but it doesn't cost $40, either. I buy the same $8 bottle of polish the professionals use and get my monies worth by doing my toes myself. 

I try to look at everything as a learning experience - from this I learned I never need to pay a professional to paint my toes again. They look just as good when I do them.

Club patrons make noisy neighbors. Duh!

Residents of the Broadway Hollywood building filed a lawsuit yesterday against the owners of the S Club, claiming the club-goers are too loud and residents of the luxury condo building can't get to sleep before 2 a.m.

The residents' complaints would be legitimate, if the condos weren't on top of the Los Angeles club! If you buy a place on top of a nightclub, you can't expect the building to be quiet. Thumping music, intoxicated people falling out of the club at all hours of the night and horns honking goes with the territory. You don't live in the suburbs. You live on top of a popular club.

In the lawsuit, filed in L.A.'s Superior Court, residents said the S club is operated in an "unreasonably and unacceptably disruptive manner," according to TMZ. The residents are complaining about the loud music and have accused the club operators of ignoring their concerns, while raking in "huge profits."

That's what they're supposed to do - make money. What are the operators expected to tell their patrons?

Club bouncer (holding his index finger to his lips): "Welcome to the S Club. Come on in, but use your library voices."

Club bartender: "Here's your martini. Your limit is one because drunks get too rowdy."

Club DJ: "Here are your complimentary earbuds. Sorry, this is the only way to enjoy the music."

I'm sure the folks who bought condos in the Broadway Hollywood paid a pretty penny. The website doesn't even list the prices. If you have to ask, you can't afford it. While the residents were shelling out all kinds of money to live in a trendy building, they should have thought twice about the consequences of buying in a place where you share an address with a nightclub. It's too late to complain now!

I'll drink to that

Over the last 10 months, my husband and I have been making wine.

We did this legally. There's no need to insert a moonshine or Tennessee (my home state) joke here.

We made 30 bottles of Riesling and 30 bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon. The Riesling is for me - I'm a fan of white wine and I love sweet wine, but I'll share with my husband, who favors red.

We took the wine-making class at The Grape Escape in South Brunswick, in central New Jersey. It was a four-session process that started last March. In the first session, we had the option to stomp the grapes, but decided to run them through a machine that squeezed the juice into one container and spit the seeds and stems in another. I'm not sure how many people would want to drink wine that I stomped - no matter how cute my feet are.

In the second session, which happens about a week later, we extracted the wine from the "musts" or skins and poured the wine into oak barrels. We also sweetened some of the whites with regular white sugar that you have at home, which was a surprise. I thought we would have used a special sugar.

During the third session, we racked the wine and removed the "lees" or sediment. And the last session, which was Saturday for the Riesling, was bottling and labeling the wine. We bottle the Cab at the end of this month.

My husband and I designed our labels - "Haute Vineyards" with a wine cave in the background for the Riesling. "Drink with Style" is at the bottom of the label. And "Lazy Sundays" with a wine glass on fire for the Cabernet Sauvignon. "Just drink it because we made it" is at the bottom of my husband's label.

We can't drink the Riesling for at least three months and it must stay upright during that time. And we can't drink the Cabernet for about six months.

We enjoy a nice glass of wine and went on a wine-tasting tour in Cape Town, South Africa, when were there in October for our third anniversary. We learned the proper way to swirl the glass, sniff the wine and identify the fruits used to make the spirits. It was fun and we've toyed with the idea of starting a wine club. In the meantime, we'll have 60 bottles of wine to drink. Thank goodness, wine makes a good gift!