And now? I am relaunching my Courant blog, Still Small Voice, at http://courantblogs.com/susan-campbell, as of today. It has all new shiny buttons and technical support and everything but the pony.

I hope you’ll make the trek back, and I hope you’ll forgive me for yanking you over here for a while, but I found that I missed blogging after a few days of not-blogging — which is kind of sad, if you ask me.

Do wander over? Please? And do feel free to share your ideas for future blog posts. I’m always looking.

You can read the column here. Merry Christmas.

You can read more about The Wailin’ Jennys here.

I am off today, off to hold grandbabies. If you find a baby nearby, I suggest you pick it up and cuddle it. And happy weekend.

My student is a dark-eyed 9-year old with a 1,000-kilowatt smile. He is a fabulous reader, and this is a picture of our first chapter book together. I am not telling you about this because I want you to think I’m a nice person. In fact,  I used to volunteer far more than I do now, and I have missed far too many Tuesdays because of work.

But last week, we were reading this book with another student whose adult reader hadn’t shown up. It’s a magic/pirate book and just for giggles, I started reading some of it in Pirate. Immediately, my reading buddy jumped in with some extremely convincing “Arghs” and “Me mateys.” The kid’s 9. You wonder how kids learn Pirate at such a young age.

Anyway. If you’re looking for a volunteer opportunity in the Hartford area, I highly recommend Power Lunch.

And thanks, Tucker and Jeff. You actually didn’t give this to me, but I stole it from you on Facebook, which is far more fun.

Now off to find the Fancy Boy Lip Glitter and the Hair Dye for Newborns.

Gregory Tate’s turning 60 on January 26th.

Tate is the co-founder of  HartBeat Ensemble, a 10-year old theater ensemble Hartford is lucky to have, but which this year lost a $57,000 state education grant because of budget cutbacks.

So rather than get a bunch of socks (what does one buy an actor for his birthday, anyway?), Gregory’s suggests you donate to HartBeat using the following Greg Tate Math:

•  60 ÷ 3 = $20: If you’ve known Tate for a 1/3 of his life, it would be 20 years!
•  60 ÷ 2 = $30: $30 in honor of Tate’s radioactive “half life.”
• 1 x 60 = $60: For the first time you’ve donated $60 to HartBeat Ensemble in Greg Tate’s name!
•  2 x 60 = $120: Multiplied by two for the number of times in the last 60 years Greg Tate told you a joke that you actually laughed at.
• 4 x 60 = $240: “4″ he’s a jolly good fellow!
•  Or any equation of “Greg Tate math” you feel like celebrating!

$57,000 is a lot of money to make up, but surely we can find something for this creative man and his fabulous ensemble.

The standard argument against this is that everyone has an equal opportunity to benefit from past accomplishments. But it isn’t true. An American born in 1970 in the bottom economic quintile had only a 17% chance of making it into the top two quintiles. Reports from Brookings, Pew, and the OECD show that much of Europe has more economic mobility than the United States.

Even for those who headed up the newest computer-based technologies, their successes have depended on the input of thousands of physicists and chemists and chip designers and software engineers and market analysts over many years to lay the groundwork for the infrastructure and protocols needed for success.

And then he quotes Tom Paine:

All accumulation, therefore, of personal property, beyond what a man’s own hands produce, is derived to him by living in society; and he owes on every principle of justice, of gratitude, and of civilization, a part of that accumulation back again to society from whence the whole came.

“Please don’t come in and disturb me no more. When I’m gone you all can come back and do whatever they want to.”

Deutsche Bank relented and issued a second mortgage, in the face of seeing just how ugly such an eviction would be. That, and the public exposure might have moved them toward a change of heart.

And thanks, DickG., for the links.

I love this:

The question: What do I do when the river that swept me into the life of Christ now empties into a toxic swamp? The very word, “evangelical,” which once conjured images of joyful Jesus Freaks, conveys political intimidation. It’s as if Ayn Rand’s spirit descended and screeched on Pentecost: “Be selfish and shrill!” But then comes the challenge: Why am I so late? Why did I hide behind the term, “peacemaker,” and avoid the loving confrontation so necessary for true shalom? Why did I wait until I was personally hurt?