Pictures from my “writing retreat” at a harbor in Ventura, CA. (Did I mention I was writing a novel? Self-imposed first draft completion date: sometime during my birthday month of May) I snapped these, weak knees and all, while I was out walking:
From the category archives:
General
Wouldn’t want it any other way.
If you’re able, give to Operation Family Fund.
If radio show host Dr. Laura Schlessinger says 100 percent of the money donated to Operation Family Fund goes directly the families, that’s good enough for me.
Operation Family Fund provides grants to injured military men and women and families injured or killed as part of the war on terrorism. The other day Dr. Laura shared a story. Someone who volunteers at the organization told her other groups that help military families have long since run out of funds. Operation Family Fund is their last hope. As expected, they’re overwhelmed with grant requests and could use our help. Whatever you can give, give.
The bad economic is affecting us all, but I will do what I can to help the injured and their families, men and women who sacrificed themselves while I sit here in comfort, relatively safe and free to do whatever I want to do. We read the headlines, but unless we have a loved one in harm’s way, we don’t think about what’s going on overseas every day.
I always thought service men and women injured in the line of duty were “taken care of” somehow. I had no clue that some of these people are essentially abandoned by our government. If you can, give. Contact Operation Family Fund.
Anyone who’s read my blog for a while (or the About page) knows I loathe the term “African American.” It’s not a proper way to describe black Americans. I think it’s inaccurate, insulting, and a poor attempt to connect with a lost past. (Also see a post titled, “African-American Canadians.”)
Let me tell you how much I dislike the term. I’m so pleased when white people call me black (when the racial reference fits the context) instead of African American, I have to suppress the urge to give them a big old fat kiss on the cheek.
A Facebooker sent me a link to a post at The Root titled, “Hold the Hyphen: Why African-American does not apply to me.”
Somehow I doubt Jennifer Mabry and I see eye-to-eye on much else, but we are one when it comes to the hyphen:
“I’m brown, thank you. But I’ll settle for black. It’s more than semantics. It’s semasiology. Once upon a time, we were niggers, coloreds, Negroes and then Afro-Americans. And so I understand the need for some blacks to refer to themselves as African-American, sort of. They want to feel connected to a population reflected in their own faces.
…
“I am constantly searching for answers as to how my café-au-lait self fits into an overwhelmingly white world. But the use of the word African conjoined with American leaves me empty. There are 54 countries in Africa. Which one would be mine?
“I have a friend whose father is Nigerian and mother is black American, which makes her literally African-American. But she refers to herself as black.
“I’m American. Period. I’ve never been to Africa. I hope to visit one day, but I also want to visit Europe. Not because I have the blood of English, Irish and Scots running through my veins, but because I’m interested in traveling to new places, seeing and experiencing new cultures and people.”
Some black Americans have a ridiculously romanticized view of the African continent. (Blame it on the movies.) Mabry addresses that, too. Check it out.
It’s so darn refreshing to know other black people agree with me on this African American nonsense. Few and far between, though…
A couple weeks ago, a Los Angeles Times reporter contacted me for a feature on Black History Month. She said she was looking for a “range of L.A. personalities” for quotes about Obama and BHM. I was to be the “independent conservative voice.”
I was delighted to know I’m considered an L.A. personality, as I’ve been here only three months. No matter what comes my way as a result of this blog, I’m always surprised. “But I’m just a blogger,” I always say. “Why do they want to talk to me?
Regardless, it’s nice to be included. Check out the main link here and my quotes here. (Keeps changing. Just scroll through. Man, I need a professional headshot!) I was asked several questions; one was about “diversity,” and those quotes were published.
Several months ago, a New York Times reporter interviewed me for about an hour, and not a single quote of mine made it into the article. It’s happened to me before…not saying what the reporter wants to hear and not making the story. My efforts paid off this time. 
One of my Facebook friends tagged me in this meme. Here goes:
1. I’m afraid of heights and large bodies of water. Standing too close to either makes my knees weak. (I have a similar reaction merely thinking about it.)
2. Although I love to write and believe God’s purpose for me at this (unmarried) time is to glorify him and build the Kingdom through the written word, writing would become a distant second to a husband and children.
3. In high school, I fancied myself a non-clique-belonging rebel, but my clique was one of the most popular in the school. 
4. I consider eating a necessary chore. It’s not that I don’t enjoy food; I just don’t like to stop whatever I’m doing to eat. I do it mainly to keep my stomach from growling.
5. “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” is one of my top ten favorite movies. (Come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination…)
6. I’m working on a novel about a vampire seeking “Christian” redemption. I envision it as a three-book series, and I know exactly how it ends.
7. I’ve always thought I’d die from a heart attack.
8. I’ve always liked the name “Matilda.”
9. If I have children, I want all boys. Sorry, Matilda!
10. When learning to drive at 14, I had to do it with my shoes off.
11. The happiest moments of my life were road-tripping with my family as a child. I don’t think I’ll ever feel that secure again.
12. I used to make fun of Christians behind their backs.
13. I’m very attracted to Giovanni Ribisi, and I don’t know why.
14. I’m very attracted to Bokeem Woodbine, and I don’t know why.
15. I want to be Hanson’s assistant tour manager. (They’ve got a Superwoman of a manager [Go, Bex!], and I know she could use the help!)
16. I wish I looked like Angela Bassett.
17. I wear a chastity ring on my left ring finger that reads “True Love.” I think it’s cool.
18. When I was 14, I was enamored with Lady Diana Spencer, who became the Princess of Wales. She was only five or six years older than I was, and I used to imitate her shy glance…although I wasn’t remotely shy.
19. I hated having siblings (two sisters and a brother) growing up, but now I’m grateful every day I wasn’t an only child.
20. I’m a closet anglophile who loves British mysteries (books, TV, and film).
21. Hot tea made from black tea leaves nauseates me.
22. I’ve always wanted to be flat-chested. I have a rather large chest and short waist, and trying to avoid looking top-heavy in clothes is a pain.
23. I saw my 10-year-old niece being born. I was overwhelmed by the miracle.
24. I want to interview musicians and actors, well-known and not-so-well-known, and get them to open up about what they believe about God and why.
25. Just once before I die, I’d like to walk the red carpet at the premiere of a movie based on my novel/screenplay.
The web has changed the way we do so many things, especially the way we consume news. The video below is a 1981 news story about reading newspapers online. It’s quaint, and there’s a sci-fi quality about it. Several newspapers engaged in a then-time consuming task of putting print news stories online. Check out those computers! (In fact, technology changes so fast that computers made at the turn of the century look ancient. Then again, that was almost a decade ago…)
David Cole of the San Francisco Examiner describes his paper’s experiment. They were trying to “figure out what it’s going to mean to us as editors and reporters and what it means to the home user. And we’re not in it to make money…We’re probably not going to lose a lot [either]…”
Man. Little did they know. Good thing they weren’t in it to make money. The world wide web caused newspapers to lose money as print readership dropped and advertisers went online. Laid-off editors and reporters and former owners of shuttered newspapers owe their downturn to the computer.
Embarrassing doesn’t quite capture the essence of what you end up doing and saying when you’re sloshed. I should know. I spent 12 years trying to stay sloshed. Some people can handle alcohol. I can’t ever go there again.
E. Curtissa Cofield, a judge in Hartford, Connecticut, “showed out,” as we say in the vernacular, at a police station following a drunk driving arrest. Cofield’s black, and I mention her race because it’s relevant. She referred to Sgt. Dwight Washington, who is black, as “Negro trooper” and “head nigger in charge” as he questioned her. He asked if she was ill, and she said her illness was “Negro-itis” and that she needed “anti-Negro” medication, and on and on. It’s pretty bad. Read the rest for yourselves.
Cofield obviously has drinking and self-image problems. Alcohol does lower inhibitions, and apparently Cofield has issues with being black and, in her drunken state, with blacks in authority who’re merely doing their jobs.
Thank the sweet Lord above my antics were not caught on tape (that I know of!), and I was never arrested for drunk driving. In March I’ll celebrate 12 years of sobriety. There, but for the grace of God, as they say. While I was drinking, I gazed into the future and saw myself as a 50-year-old drunk. It may be cute to be tipsy all the time in your 20s (extended adolescence and all that), but a middle-aged drunk? Nothing cute about that. I set a goal to stop drinking by the time I was 30. Two months shy of my birthday, I gave up the bottle.
Judge Cofield is 60 years old. Perhaps she gets drunk only twice a year. This may be a fluke. (Here’s a video of Cofield in a sober state.) Regardless, the video is an indication of how she handles alcohol. Badly. Just say no to the booze!
My supermodel-tall 10-year-old niece (she didn’t get that trait from our side of the family, that’s for sure) thinks my at-home antics are funny. I like to make her laugh. And it’s easy to make a 10-year-old laugh.
Robin’s * school is in walking distance of where we live, and sometimes I pick her up. I work from home, and walking to her school is a nice afternoon break. (I’m still getting used to this warm California weather; it’s almost February but spring’s in the air). Strangely enough, those same antics don’t make her laugh when performed within earshot of her friends.
“Aunt Shawn, you’re embarrassing me,” she said.
“Really?” I asked, genuinely surprised. What’s the big deal? I was doing and saying the same things that crack her up at home. Then it hit me: She’s entered the tween, peer-pressure, trying-to-look-cool phase. No kisses. No hugs. No cringe-worthy adult stuff.
As I’ve never raised a child, I am not familiar with this new stage of development from an adult’s perspective, although I can’t plead complete ignorance. My father used to enjoy embarrassing me, my sisters, and brother in public, especially in malls. Talk about uncool. I thought I’d die – die – from shame.
“People are looking at you,” I whined. “Pleeeaaassse stop doing that!” My mother was absolutely no help. She was used to it; didn’t bother her at all. Fond memories, childhood. Oh, ancient of days!
So I can empathize with Robin. Not a teen and not a “little kid,” she’s also going through an I-hate-boys-but-only-when–you’re-around phase (exacerbated by the fact that she’s the only girl among my sibling’s kids – her cousins are all boys). For example, whenever I mention her autographed picture of actor Taylor Lautner (her friend attends his church and asked Taylor to sign a photo of himself for my niece for her birthday), she frowns like she’s smelling something bad. “Gross!” she whines.
But her friend’s mother tells a different story. Robin was very excited to get that photo, we were told. Acknowledging that fact to her mother and aunt, however, would be the height of shame.
Being a quasi-mom to my niece is challenging, sometimes confusing, usually fun, and always enlightening. I sing Disney show theme songs in my sleep (Ahhhhhh!), I’m aware that Taylor gained over 20 pounds to keep his role as Jacob Black in blockbuster “Twilight,” and I know more than I need to know about DS games popular among middle-schoolers.
I’m learning how to be more patient and flexible, and most of all, more loving. I’ll always cherish these years. Thanks, Rob. 
*Not her real name. Totally phony for her protection. Besides, she'd be so embarrassed by this post.
Special thanks to reader Julia G, who sent two books from my Amazon wish list:
- The Politically Incorrect Guide to Women, Sex and Feminism
- The Politically Incorrect Guide to the South (and Why It Will Rise Again)
A few years ago, I was reluctant to post a link to my Amazon list of wishes. Guess what? I got over it!
Thank you, readers, for sending me such books as The Anti 9-to-5 Guide: Practical Career Advice for Women Who Think Outside the Cube, The Victory of Reason: How Christianity Led to Freedom, Capitalism, and Western Success, The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for Belief, and Scripture Alone: Exploring the Bible’s Accuracy, Authority and Authenticity.
If readers want to buy me books for Christmas and other occasions, who am I to stop them? My bookcases runneth over! Thanks, again.
Blackbird, the browser for black people. Good grief. No, it’s not a “Saturday Night Live” skit. It’s not from The Onion. Somebody came up with and implemented this idea. If you don’t like it, organize a massive Firefox boycott. Or a protest? Isn’t that what the disgruntled do? This will do wonders for race relations. Great idea, guys. Very innovative and cutting edge.
Read reactions here. As I said before, I don’t know why these things happen. I just blog and link (and provide reams of commentary!).
I need a vacation. A Christmas vacation!
Update (12/16): A little birdie told me that the Mozilla Firefox team is not behind Blackbird.
“It was created by a group of black entrepreneurs from the Firefox source code, which anyone can download and change. As such, I think it is unfair to boycott Firefox, since they aren’t behind this absurd concept.”
Thursday, November 13: DragonLady writes:
“So, a few years ago, I started blogging. 2004? Must have been since it was before the Bush/Kerry election, and that’s what really got me into blogging in the first place. It was via Michelle Malkin that I discovered La Shawn Barber. La Shawn didn’t just write about politics, though. She wrote (and still does) about her Christian faith. She has often broached subjects from a Christian viewpoint that I didn’t necessarily want to hear. She got me to open up my Bible, and the more I opened it, the more I knew I needed to get back into church, not so much for me, but for the kids. They need that stable and positive influence in their lives just like I did.
…
“So anyway, what I had intended to do was to email La Shawn, and thank her for starting that ball rolling again in my life. But after yesterday’s post (that she trackbacked back to me), I thought I would make that thank you public. Thank you, La Shawn, for being so open with your faith. It was that openness that was the beacon I needed to get back on the ’strait’ and “narrow’ road that I had strayed from.”
This was the Lord’s doing; It is marvelous in his eyes.
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There aren’t enough hours in the day to deal with all this stuff.
Reading this Newsweek story for a Pajamas Media TV segment I’m taping in an hour tomorrow, one paragraph stopped me cold (emphasis added):
“If this week’s exit polls tell us anything about religion, they remind us that there are tens of millions of voters in this country who believe in God, read their Scripture, pray, regularly attend a house of worship—and do not consider themselves born-again Christians.”
OK. For the record, there is no such thing as a Christian who has not been born again. To say you believe in God, go to church every Sunday, etc., doesn’t mean you’re a Christian. People worship all kind of gods and go to church for various reasons. The questions is, is Christ your Lord and Savior? If someone has been forgiven, he has been born again, no matter what cultural or social connotations the term born again (white fundamentalist Bible-thumpers?) has been burdened with. Those saved by grace through faith in Christ understand what the term means biblically.
General Douglas MacArthur said, “No man is entitled to the blessings of freedom unless he be vigilant in its preservation.”
Gratitude, undying. Thank you, veterans.
Visit Military.com.
Californians, vote YES on Proposal 8 to protect traditional marriage.
In 2000, 61.4 percent of voters chose to ban homosexual “marriage.” Last June, the California Supreme Court overturned that law 4-3. After the decision, over a million Californians signed a petition to put Proposition 8 on the ballot. The measure would amend the state constitution to define marriage as between only a man and a woman.
“Proposition 8 protects marriage as an essential institution of society. While death, divorce, or other circumstances may prevent the ideal, the best situation for a child is to be raised by a married mother and father.”
I’m sitting outside on the deck with laptop and “working,” as the Santa Ana winds blow all sorts of allergens my way. Hard to believe it’s currently 91 degrees. If I were sitting outdoors in DC in 91-degree weather, I’d be a sopping mess. Dry heat is cool.
Anyway, I stumbled across this YearbookYourself time-waster and thought I’d share.
Check me out in 1958 and 1960 (Integration now! Segregation never!):
1972 and 1976:
