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Cute Faces … Dorky Glasses (Why Fashion is Irrational)

It isn’t often that you’ll find me writing about the world of fashion, but I feel it’s time for me to stand up to a modern gullibility of “The Emperor’s New Clothes” proportions.

To be frank, those “cool,” often expensive, glasses frames that many women (and men) wear, look just plain dorky. They looked horrible in the 1950s, and they still look horrible today. Just because it’s old, doesn’t mean it’s better. The thick-framed glassed of the 1950s and ’60s were popular because materials science and manufacturing expense required they be made primarily from plastic, and to get plastic to be strong enough (especially at the time), they had to be big, thick, and ugly. People ca n also check out ICU Eyewear for men if they need the best looking glasses or eyewear.

Modern materials give us a host of inexpensive and classy glasses designs. So why do these horrors persist?


You have a cute (if somewhat pale) face, honey … great color for the glasses, but … dang …


Jeepers, Uncle Ian, what were you thinking?


Dorky in 1950 … dorkier still if you think these are cool.


Yes, even the uber-cool companies are not exempt from marketing trash for your face. Be smarter!

Now, I’m going to prove my point by borrowing one of the world’s most beautiful faces, normally belonging to Catherine Zeta Jones.


Let’s see how dorky glasses ruin even Catherine Zeta. Here she is before a trip to the local optician nee fashionista.


And … here’s Catherine with her super-cool fashion-statement spectacles.


We hope Catherine Zeta Jones has better fashion sense than this, but many people with beautiful faces do not.


See how bad it can get?


Do you believe me now?

So … don’t be tempted to look like a dork just because all the cool people are doing it! Just like wearing your breeches half falling off your butt, tramp stamps, and bell-bottoms (and virtually anything from the 1970s), just because it is or was popular, trendy, faddish, or in some way nifty, doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. Spend your hard earned dollars on something useful, like foreign missions, books by John Piper, or World of WarCraft.


And the cooler they pretend to be, the worse it gets.

Note: Virtual glasses are from a cool-if-slightly-pokey (showing the dangers of not-careful-enough AJAX development) service called FrameFinder, courtesy of FramesDirect.com .

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What’s Wrong with … Doug?

Okay, here’s the deal …

Last Tuesday (May 27) I was falling asleep in a meeting. Now, bear in mind, I often fall asleep in meetings, but not usually in meetings of only a few people and where I am one of the key participants. I excused myself and went home sick.

(As I think about it, a week earlier I had been complaining that muscle pain all across my upper back—I thought from weight lifting—had lasted more than a week, and when I sat down to do chest flies, I discovered I couldn’t put much pressure on my left arm in the direction required.)

The next few days I took half days off, plus one full day, fighting a low fever (1 to 1.5 degrees above normal), working when I didn’t feel in that brain-dead state that fever brings on.

Meanwhile, I started having more and more stiffness in my legs, especially after sitting down for a while, and developed a pain in my fingers, particularly around the proximal phalanges.

Thursday I got in to see one of my two N.P.’s at Nashua Primary Care, and she explained that it was probably viral, and ordered a slew of blood tests, including a Lyme disease titer, because a number of the symptoms matched Lyme, even though we had not observed a tick bite or the infamous bull’s-eye rash from one. The only abnormal result was a slightly elevated sed rate, which indicates inflammation of some kind. However, Lyme disease antibody tests can be negative for several weeks even when symptoms have begun to present, so I have a retest in three weeks.

Monday had me phoning the doctor’s office again, explaining that the difficulty walking had gotten much worse beginning on Sunday. Questions and answers went back and forth throughout the day and the next morning, but around noon Tuesday (day 8 of fighting the fever), after confirming some swelling in my left leg (which I was completely oblivious of, but which Nichelle spotted right away), they referred me to the emergency department at Southern New Hampshire Medical Center. (I wasn’t even up to playing World of WarCraft on Tuesday morning. Tragic.)


(Enterprise E sick bay drawing courtesy of www.ex-astris-scientia.org.)

The primary reason for going to the E/R was because such swelling can be caused by a DVT (I would explain, but that would save you the fun of some Wikipedia research) or a blood clot in the lungs.

More blood was drawn. Twice, actually, the first batch turned out to be unusable. (I warned them not to expose it to sunlight or tachyon radiation …)

Nichelle dropped me off, and brought everyone by when she picked up Isaac and David from school. Shortly thereafter, as I was being wheeled to the Radiology department (my first trip on a gurney since infancy), both Isaac and David asked, “If you die, can we have your World of WarCraft gold?” Weasels.

The ultrasound and X-ray didn’t turn up any clots; however, the chest X-ray showed an enlarged heart (and you all thought my heart was two sizes too small), so in addition to still having a problem with whatever is causing me to be unable to walk, I’ll be visiting a cardiologist soon.


Admit it, this is more like what you expected.

The hospital gave me a tapered dose of prednisone, which, for 23 hours, allowed me to hobble a lot faster. It was a delight to wake up this morning and be able to move my legs with almost no difficulty, especially as on Tuesday I was nearly completely crippled, and the pain in my hands was so bad I couldn’t even open a soda bottle. But around 5:00 p.m. today the leg pain when moving set in again, and I was back to smaller steps (although not nearly as bad as Tuesday).

I have an appointment to see my own N.P. tomorrow night. I’ll have a cardiology appointment as soon as my doctor’s office can arrange one. (They are remarkably adept at getting a squeeze-in consultation; I’ve seen them turn an 8-week wait “even if your doctor refers you” into a three day one.) Possible causes for the enlarged heart are an infection in the past that caused tissue damage, or—as I learned about through my own research today—a completely benign condition called Athlete’s Heart Syndrome (see also this article) which sometimes develops in people who do a lot of cardiovascular types of exercise.

Ignoring the enlarged heart and going back to the original symptoms, I called my sister Cindy last night and learned that my niece Jenn had exactly the same symptoms, and is currently recovering finally after a round of antibiotics. The only test that she had come back positive was one that indicated an exposure to strep at some point. This matches a bacteriological diagnosis, rather than a viral one, but her case baffled her doctors for a while, and, they too suspected Lyme disease.


The weasels just want my gnome engineer Mortalan character’s gold if I kick.

Being sick like this has made me appreciate much more how difficult it is for those with movement-related disorders or painful problems like arthritis. I also have a much better understanding of just how difficult it was for Nichelle all those years when her vitamin D deficiency left her debilitated.

Still, I find many blessings. Kronos’ sick time policies are excellent, and the superb insurance for which they are paying means I do not have to worry about the medical bills. I can work from home to coordinate with going to appointments or on those mornings when I’m not sure how well I’ll feel, and keep up with work e-mail, etc., even when too sick to go in. I get to experience my children’s delightfully twisted senses of humor in a time that might have been stressful to them. Nichelle is a constant help to me as well. I continue to benefit from (and am particularly grateful for) the large amount of time coordinating my case that my N.P.’s Celine Fortin and Rebecca Cooper-Piela and my “nurse-on-the-phone” Fran have put in.

I am glad God doesn’t want my life to get too boring.

(The saga continues on the post entitled Day 13.)

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NaNi Reviews Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

We all trekked off to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull on Saturday, including Naomi.*

Here’s her review:

Indiana Jones was amazing. Sam [Shia LeBeouf, playing Mutt Williams, whom she recognizes as Sam Witwicky from Transformers] was old! He had a mustache and beard, and I was, like, “What the heck?”

We asked NaNi if she had a favorite part, and she explained, “No; I loved all of it.”


Naomi can’t wait to review this upcoming release from Disney-Pixar.

(*Yes, I know you wouldn’t take your 4-year-old to see a possibly frightening movie, but she really wanted to go, even after knowing it might be scary. So we did take her, after instructing her on how to close her eyes and snuggle up with Mom if there was anything she found scary on screen, and that we would not be taking her out to the lobby. She did need to close her eyes once or twice, but it was David—age 9—who was the most frightened, but only in one part, and he used the same technique to deal with it.

Hey, she’s our kid, and has been raised on a steady diet of appropriate action-adventure, fantasy, and sci-fi films, such as Star Wars, Superman, The Lord of the Rings, and Barbie Swan Lake. Get over it.)

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A quick family update….

When Naomi woke up this morning, I asked her if she slept well, and also told her that I was happy she slept all night in her own bed. With the cutest glimmer in her eyes, she then told me that she had “the most wonderful dream in the world.” She then explained that she dreamt about Speed Racer, and that she was 5, and they went on vacation and they visited her and they talked. She had this twinkle in her eyes and the sweetest smile. She said that she never had this dream in her whole life.

Naomi’s been using Isaac’s scooter in the house for a bit now and has great balance. Phil pointed out to her that she may be ready to use her bike without training wheels because she can balance so well on the scooter. Man, oh, man, did she like that idea. She was quick to ask Doug to take the training wheels off her bike and is doing amazingly well. We took video of her mastering her skill at the two wheeler. It’s too soon for my liking, although that’s a mom thing!!! I’m, of course, proud of her accomplishments, but she’s growing up too fast.

David, after years of begging for glasses, got his wish. Doug took the kids to their appts a few weekends ago (Naomi’s first eye exam, too), and David was told that he needed glasses. He picked out the ones he wanted, and was told that they’d be ready in a week, but … the week came and went and still no glasses. He was disappointed to find out that he needed to wait several more days because there was a problem with the lenses and needed to be returned to the company to have them corrected. He finally got his glasses yesterday, and of course, he’s thrilled.

Isaac celebrated his 13th birthday the end of April and we’ll be celebrating with a party this weekend. Can’t believe he’s already a teen. [Doug’s note: He’s had the attitude of a teen for at least five years now, it certainly doesn’t surprise me.]

At the end of April, Naomi and I spent 4 days in DisneyWorld. Yup, just us girls, with two of Phil’s sisters and niece. We had a great time. Loads of fun watching Naomi’s expressions on the rides and just the fun she had with MacKenzie. Doug and the boys had a great time, too, as expected by me anyways. He took the boys indoor skydiving, which I’ll be doing sometime soon. We have a video of that along with pictures that David took. Those should be posted soon, too.

More from Doug. Nichelle is the biggest weasel in the world for going to DisneyWorld without us. I would certainly never go on such a trip without my wife.

In addition to indoor skydiving, David, Isaac, nephew Andrew Roberts, and I visited the U.S. Navy Submarine Force Museum, which is home to the USS Nautilus, the world’s very first nuclear-powered submarine. For technophiles like us, this was a perfect trip. In fact, we were late picking Nichelle and NaNi up at the airport because we got to talking to a submariner who was stationed on the USS Henry Clay (a “boomer”—a ballistic missile submarine) in the 1960s. In addition to touring the Nautilus, we got to play with various submarine control stations, see a lot of weapons, including a disassembled Polaris 3 MIRV, use working periscopes, and learn a lot about the history of the US submarine force. Jim, the sailor from the Henry Clay, also answered a question that was very important to me: Which movies about submarines are actually accurate. He said the Widowmaker was highly accurate, but admitted that others could still be entertaining. I’ll post pictures from this trip soon.

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Belittled by PETCO: A Bad Customer Experience

Two weeks ago, Isaac spent some of his savings on purchasing a new tarantula, to replace Chandan, one that had died after about 3.5 years in our care. (The tarantula was fully grown when we purchased it, so we expect the death was due to old age, as these Chilean spiders, typically sold in pet shops, live only to 5-8 moltings, and she had molted thrice, about once a year, while we had her.)

However, the new tarantula did not fare so well. After a week, Isaac noted that she had some trouble climbing, within another week she was dead.

PETCO issues a 15-day guarantee on "companion animals" they sell, so we headed back to PETCO to see if we could get an exchange. To prove to them that we had adequate and appropriate housing, we brought the large plastic shoebox type storage container (about 2.5 gallons in volume) containing the spider.

That is where the trouble started.

The attendant examined the box, and said, “You’ve used fertilized potting soil; it looks like you killed it.”

(For the record, we did use potting soil. Potting soil often contains Styrofoam, perlite, or vermiculite to improve aeration and water retention. In this case, our soil contained perlite, which is completely harmless. Of course, some potting soils, even organic ones, contain fertilizers and insecticides, but I was very careful to avoid selecting one of those.)

“No, I replied carefully, "we used sterilized potting soil with no chemical additives. You must understand we had a tarantula living for nearly four years in exactly these conditions, and it was an adult when we bought it."

Then he seemed to express concern over the container. I quickly pointed out, "The container is not airtight,” which, after some seemed to satisfy him.

By this time I was seething, although outwardly completely controlling my anger. We are not idiots. We have been keeping tarantulas for four years now. Chandan, the one who died several months ago, exhibited no problems of any kind during her life. I even keep a tarantula (named after one of our VPs) at my office. I strongly resented the immediate and obvious blaming, and felt even worse because essentially everything I said was ignored, even when I was correct.

Reluctantly, the clerk issued me a refund, and we headed off to the reptile and fish department, which houses tarantulas and such. The fish display featured a wall of Betas, all in tiny, nonaerated plastic containers. Great way to take care of those fish!

And there we waited. And waited. And waited. Isaac repeatedly spoke to the staff, who assured us they would be “right with us.” This went on for about 30 minutes. (Thankfully I’d brought a book to read.)

Finally, the “spider guy” came out. He claimed the soil contained “chemical crystals” that kill insects. I explained the reality to him, which he clearly didn’t accept, and recommended peat instead. He also claimed we had told him we would be keeping the tarantula in a 10-gallon aquarium, which, we, of course had not, and he wondered, “How do you expect to regulate the temperature in a plastic container?” (I did not want to go into physics with him.)

Initially and over the years, we’ve done most of our research on tarantula care via the Internet, from a variety of sources. If we go the experts, the American Tarantula Society, we can see what their articles and care guides say:

Pet Pals sold in pet shops, work well for many species. Many plastic and glass containers can be adapted for tarantula homes.

They also recommend topsoil or potting soil as the ideal substrate for tarantulas. Peat was only second-best.

Good air circulation in a container has been thought by some in the past to be a requirement, however, serious doubt has been cast on this idea in the last few years. The up side is good air circulation may prevent stagnant conditions with very high humidity that can easily breed mold, fungi, bacteria, nematodes and mites.

The clerk said he might not sell us another tarantula, and that he would have to talk to the other clerk and check. After a few minutes, he returned, and informed us that we could buy a replacement tarantula, but they would not provide a guarantee this time. We paid for the new tarantula with our refund money, and left.

Over the week I triple-checked our information. The ATS agreed with our care policies completely, contrary to the details the PETCO personnel provided. So, the next weekend, I went back to the store and spoke with the manager. I told him that I understood people do not typically do the research into caring for exotics, but that we were experienced tarantula owners who were thorough about what we were doing. I explained that we were very dissatisfied with our treatment, and pointed out where the ATS recommendations were contrary to the store’s advice.

He apologized for how we were treated, and said he had all our information, and that he would have the regional controller call us.

We’re still waiting for the call …

But at least the new tarantula is doing well.

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Lego Turns 50 Today

Today is the 50th anniversary of the filing of the patent for Lego bricks.


The Google logo received a Lego treatment today.

I received my first Lego set 34 years ago—number 480, the Rescue Helicopter—at age 5, as a Christmas gift from friend-and-neighbor Chuck Altwein. I quickly learned to completely assemble and disassemble the model without the directions. This was followed by set number 135 that year from my parents (too small a set, but I do not blame them), and many, many others, including some of my favorites, 190, 404 (which still gets my vote for best classic building set), and the 487 Space Cruiser, which was one of a trilogy of sets that opened Lego’s hugely popular (and still running) space line. (This line also introduced the modern Lego minifigure, or minifig.)

Lego forever changed my childhood, as I spent nearly every Saturday morning surrounded by Lego. One of the worst punishments I ever received was when I got frustrated trying to build a truck, and threw the partially completed assembly across the room. My Mom put my Lego in the attic for a week, and I learned to control my temper better. (I recall an incident with Isaac, at around age 4 or 5, where he had his Lego taken away for something similar, and he cried for 3 1/2 hours straight.)

I continue to build with Lego with my kids on rainy days at home, and lead a Lego robotics group that meets once a week at work (where I am known by the nickname LegoDoug). We have completed one project using the original RIS/RCX, and are switching to the NXT this week, thanks to Nichelle’s wonderful anniversary gift.

My boys are crazy about Lego Bionicle and the Lego Star Wars lines, and even NaNi loves to build, and I can’t think of any toy that has provided so much innovative playtime.

Check out some coverage on Gizmodo, Slashdot, Time, and this Lego timeline on Wikipedia.

Following are images of some of my favorite bits of my own Lego history.


I lobbied shamelessly and amorally for this one Christmas. It was Lego’s largest set to date.


One of Lego’s best sets ever, which included a Lego motor.


The Lego Space Cruiser, an unquestionable classic.


Lego’s first castle set.


The first Lego robotics kit, and a little piece of history.


An iconic robot constructed from the new Lego NXT robotics kit.

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2008: Year of the Nerd

I hesitate to include this, but this is the sort of thing that goes on at a New Year’s Eve party at Heritage Baptist Church.

In addition to “praying in” the new year, we also spent several hours playing board games and doing improv skits. Lynn B., our great game organizer, ran a Family Feud session, which was quite fun, although at first we demonstrated our vast lack of knowledge in how this particular game show operated. Once it got going, the competition was fierce.

I loved the fact that all the kids were involved as well. David was interviewed by me in one of the skits as an eyewitness to the events of “The Ugly Duckling”; in his version he ran over the Ugly Duckling with his car! Tom H. brought a snowball inside, which ended up recycled a number of times by being thrown or dropped down the back of people’s shirts. Pastor Erik told people (not necessarily children) not to run about 4,328 times. Phil L. and David E. carried Isaac outside a couple of times and threw him in a snowbank.

Afterward we went home and let the kids stay up as long as they wanted, as is our tradition on New Year’s. NaNi didn’t make it much after 1:00. David was up until about 4:30. Isaac stayed awake until 6:40 p.m. on the first. We woke him up for dinner, and trounced him at Halo 3, which is extremely unusual, but shows how drastically sleep deprivation can affect performance and critical skills.

Late afternoon on the first, we were in the process of getting ready to go see Enchanted, when David came in calling, “It stings! It stings!” I thought he’d hurt or frozen his hands, until he pointed to his head. Isaac had accidentally hit him across the eyebrow with a snow shovel, splitting the skin open quite deeply, so we went to the emergency department at SNHMC instead of to the movies. (The physician’s office had just closed.) David was very worried about stitches, but got to have his skin superglued together instead.

While David and I waited, and waited, and waited in the waiting room, Nichelle was at home making beef enchiladas, our last bit of holiday eating-too-much-for-our-own-good.

Welcome, 2008!

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Gospel

“We acted badly, badly, until they brought us God’s carvings. Then, seeing His carvings and following His good trail, now we live happily and in peace.”

—Mincaye

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Erik DiVietro IS Jack Ryan

Erik DiVietro posted this via his MySpace page. As I hate MySpace, and loved this, he gave me permission to cross-post it here.

Erik treated one of those inane e-mail surveys as if he were Jack Ryan, the protagonist in most of Tom Clancy’s novels. (Also, I should note that, just like Erik, I’ve read all of Clancy’s novels. Clancy peaked with The Sum of All Fears—avoid the movie, though—and really hasn’t done remotely as well since.)

I completed this entire survey as Jack Ryan, of the Tom Clancy novels. It is disturbing that I retain this much information about a fictional character, and more so that I do it about MANY fictional characters.

1. If you were to kill a man, horror movie style, which kitchen utensil would you use?
Horror movie style, eh? That’s a tough one. I had an Ayatollah killed by sending in the B-2 bomber with a bunker buster.

2. Did you ever swallow a coin?
No, but I did buy a helicopter once.

3. What was the worst gift you’ve ever received?
That moron Tom Clancy ruined my legacy by writing Teeth of the Tiger

4. What is your most embarrassing childhood memory?
That my father almost arrested John Clark

5. How many kids do you want?
I have four. For some reason, every time my wife and I slept together in another country or in a time of international crisis, she got pregnant again.

6. What’s your moms middle name?
She didn’t have one, but her maiden name was Burke

7. Have you ever operated a fire extinguisher?
In ways the manufacturer never contemplated.

8. What did you eat for breakfast?
I skip breakfast a lot, and Kathy is always getting on my case about it.

9. who do you hate?
Used to communists, then the Japanese and then the Asian-financed terrorists. Oh, and bureaucrats. MAN do I hate them!

10. what do you hope to have accomplished by the end of this year?
When you’re Jack Ryan – there is nothing left to do. I made millions on the stock market; I wrote books; I was a Marine; I’ve been head of the CIA, Vice-President and President. SHOOT…I single-handedly brought peace to Jerusalem. I stole an entire ballistic missile submarine from the Russians AND forced the head of the GRU to defect! There’s nothing I haven’t done.

11. do you have any reallllly crazy relatives?
Apparently, I have two twin psychotic nephews. My daughter is a little strange as well.

12. Did you ever wake up under the influence of NyQuil, completely unable to move?
I was addicted to painkillers after I almost broke my back, and had a drinking problem that forced me out of government service for awhile.

13. Are you feeling nostalgic right now?
I’m a former president of the USA, of course.

14. Did you own a Lite-Brite?
My grandkids do; but it is nothing compared to the NSA command center.

15. Can you dive?
In a wetsuit? No. I’m a terrible swimmer; but I did operate the dive planes of the Red October under Captain Marco Ramius

16. Do you own a mouthpiece for anything?
Not really.

18. Have you ever used a pogo stick?
Is that anything like a 9MM handgun? Or explosives?

19. Who was the most creative bum you’ve ever met, trying to get some money from you?
Probably Ed Kealty.

20. What’s your favorite Jelly Belly jelly bean flavor?
Can of INTERNATIONAL WHOOPIN’. That’s a flavor, right?

21. favorite food you CRAVE?
I love my wife’s cooking. Of course, every time she makes a special meal, people seem to try to kill us.

22. When was the last time you pulled lint out of your bellybutton?
What do I look like? A democrat?

23. Did you ever use someone else’s toothbrush?
There was this crisis where the president thought the Russians were launching nukes at us, but it turned out to be a BIG misunderstanding. But I stayed up for like 3 weeks without sleeping, so I probably did.

24. Do you REALLY floss everyday?
Of course. I’m a Georgetown alumnus.

25. what is your favorite cologne/perfume you always wear?
Cologne is for men who haven’t killed Irish terrorists with their own hands.

26. If you were on Double Dare, would you take the physical challenge?
Look. I’ve been dropped from helicopters onto submarines in storms; I’ve been shot at by drug czars; and I was there when a crazy Japanese pilot flew a 747 into the Capitol building. My wife and I survived nuclear blasts AND two different version of the Ebola virus. You got nothing on me.

27. What’s the largest living organism that you killed?
Shoot. I’ve killed so many things. Probably my father-in-law’s ego.

28. Did you ever take a lighting bug and smear its guts on your arm so you get a cool glowing effect like war paint?
Who writes these stupid questions?

29. What’s the best toy you’ve ever gotten in a McDonalds happy meal?
an armored limousine Hot Wheel

30. if you could be anywhere in the world doing anything right now what would it be?
Back in the Oval Office, ordering Clark and Ding to take care of people.

31. Can you juggle?
HELLO! Fearless leader of the free world here!

32. how do you feel right now?
nostalgic, see 13 above.

33. Do you remember that square candy bar called “Chunky”?
I do. Ate many a Chunky bar out of the CIA vending machines.

34. Predict the length of the next Peter Jackson movie.
Longer than Bear and the Dragon felt but somewhat shorter than Executive Orders actually was.

35. What was your favorite toy as a kid?
G.I. Joes.

36. Are you willing to go the distance?
That’s one heck of a question to ask me. How many of you have even TRIED to read all my books?

37. Did you answer question 17?
How could I? It was stolen by Arab terrorists bent on bringing down the free world through Internet hacking.

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The Jerks Always Win

… was the text message I received recently from a heartbroken friend. I am not at liberty to share the details behind this, but emotional abuse figured significantly in the story that was summed up by that statement.

For several years, I have informally studied the short- and long-term effects of sexual abuse. I have read over a dozen books on the topic, attended trials and hearings, evaluated cases in the media, communicated with subject matter experts, and supported and interviewed survivors. The bottom line is, as Anna Salter wrote, “Child sexual abuse was like getting bitten by a rattlesnake: Some kids recovered completely, and some didn’t, but it wasn’t good for anybody.”

On the whole—unlike 20 years ago—our society is beginning to “get it” in regard to sexual abuse. Popular knowledge is now cognizant of the need to expose its occurrences, protect its survivors, and punish and forever monitor the offenders.

Sadly, the balance still favors the offender. Most are never caught; even those who are prosecuted often reach that stage only after permanently damaging numerous innocents. The jerks always win.

But there is another type of abuse, typically (but not exclusively) perpetrated by males against females, that we often gloss over: Verbal and emotional abuse.

There was a lot I did not understand about sexual abuse, due to my own ignorance—I could not fathom, for example, why Celie did not simply run away to escape her abusive husband when I read The Color Purple ages ago. Of course, now I know that her sexual abuse as a child played a large part in this, and that certain types of abusive behavior will nearly always produce certain types of behavioral results, such as remaining with or returning to the abuser. Whether this can be explained rationally is irrelevant; the causative facts remain both evident and consistent.

There is a lot I do not understand about verbal or emotional abuse. Why would one continually mistreat a woman with whom he shares a social or even romantic connection? Why would anyone continually belittle her accomplishments, describe her as worthless or stupid, scream profanities at her, become angry at her without provocation, or limit her financial and personal freedom?

Why take something beautiful and damage it, making it less valuable?

Why tarnish God’s most beautiful and intricate creation, rather than polishing it for all the world to see?

We’d like to think this happens only in our underclasses, but that is hardly the case. One account conveyed to me by a friend was of a woman who was a published biological research scientist, with a doctorate. This didn’t protect her from her boyfriend whose constant belittlement convinced her that she was of no value. This happens far more than we realize.

I confess, I simply do not understand verbal or emotional abuse. I absolutely cannot understand why someone would mistreat any woman, especially one entrusted into one’s care. I know what the advice is to those in an abusive situation: “Get out immediately”; but few will be able to heed that. I often wonder why women seem to be so predictably malleable under such abuse, but perhaps this is why the Apostle Peter referred to wives as “the weaker vessel,” and commanded husbands to honor them and be understanding.

I see that I need to improve my knowledge deficit, just as I studied sexual abuse.

In the mean time, I’m going to keep polishing.