February 21, 2017
I’m an optimistic person by nature, so I still hold out the hope that Trump voters are on the whole reasonable and decent, if misguided people, who voted for Trump out of desperation. I hope they are appalled by his behavior of this past month, and are having “buyer’s remorse” over their choice for President. I still hope that we can come together, throw this idiot out of office, and get our country on some semblance of the right track.
An article I read in the Wall Street Journal casts doubt on this hopeful view. Several Trump supporters in Fauquier County, Virginia held forth on why they still stand fully behind him. Note that Fauquier County is not a hollowed out factory town or a coal mine ravaged valley. It’s lovely, rolling hill country, in the shadow of the Blue Ridge mountains. The average per capita income is $90,000 a year. Residents are more likely to be riding their horse than shooting up opiates behind the abandoned steelworks. Not exactly a vision of desperation.
“This is Redskins country,” notes one man. “If you support the Dallas Cowboys, you should move down there.”
“Heaven has a gate and a wall,” notes one woman. “And they’re doing extreme vetting over there.”
Okay. So you’ve got one person analogizing support for the President, who represents the entire nation, and loyalty to a sports team who represents one small region. Not to mention that the quarterback of the Redskins does not have his hand on the nuclear button. And since when can’t a Cowboys fan live in Redskin country? Then you’ve got another person implying that the USA is heaven and that the Trump administration is God. No comment.
I still believe that the authors of these stunning statements love their children. Maybe we like the same bluegrass bands, or fried chicken restaurant. But their beliefs as regards our constitutional democracy are so at odds with mine (and at least 50% of the population) that I despair we can ever find common ground. It’s a long path to walk, and they’ve got to realize it’s a two way street.
February 9, 2017
I wear a resist button on my jacket every day. This is why.
I wear my resist button to remind me to act, not just complain: to call my congresspeople; to deliver household items for refugees; to march in the streets.
I wear my resist button to remind me that this is no time to be polite. We have to be firm. We have to be loud. We have to be heard.
I wear my resist button to drown out the drumbeat of people saying my concerns are overwrought, or that Trump is simply a “different” kind of president, or (as one Wall Street Journal columnist said yesterday) “this isn’t Germany in 1933”. Because maybe it is.
I wear my resist button so others will see it, and ask where I got it, and if they can have one. I want there to be a sea of people wearing resist buttons everywhere I look, so we can all support each other, and be strong.
I wear my resist button to remind myself that no matter how much the bully-in-chief tries to intimidate us, we will only push back harder.
January 31, 2017
This is a self-help book based on the idea that most of us live at the bottom of a pendulum, subject to alternating highs and lows. Kite offers a guide to “climbing the pendulum” so that you’re operating from the still center at the top.
While at the lower levels Kite offers wise, common sense advice: accept yourself as you are; accept others as they are; don’t prejudge; don’t make didactic moral judgments; live in the present without regrets; respect the needs of your physical body. But when he goes higher on the pendulum (in the latter part of the book) he veers into weirdo land. First we learn about which bodily organs are awake at which time (apparently the spleen is partying at 3 AM and the kidneys at 5?). While we do indeed have diurnal cycles, I’ve never seen any scientific evidence for Kite’s specific schedule. At the very top of the pendulum one is supposed to let go of free will, make no moral judgments, and accept what comes in life as if one was watching it on TV. This way we will be free of pain.
Sorry, I can’t buy this. In the eyes of God, perhaps we are all equal, from a malarial mosquito to our newborn baby, to an alien in a distant galaxy. Maybe all our problems don’t amount to a hill of beans in the immensity of space and time. But back in the micro world of our own little lives, our choices do matter. There is free will and there is right and wrong. If that knowledge leads to pain, so be it.
January 27, 2017
I’ve been on a cleaning/organizing kick the past couple weeks, lining books up by size on bookshelves, putting boxes of photos into albums and frames, labeling all the glass jars in the pantry, recycling mounds of irrelevant paper, you get the idea. The winter weather is part of it–this organizing binge started when I was snowed in and it’s still pretty gray and dreary out there. And I am doing less child care than I have in 36 years, so I have more time. But I think the main reason is political. If I can’t control the country, I can control my house.
Unfortunately, no matter how much organizing I do, I can’t reorganize Donald Trump out of existence. I can’t throw him out with the trash. If I could, I would.
January 26, 2017
Chevoo: two flavor sensations in one! I realize that sounds like a 1960’s advertisement, but it is the best way to describe this new product.
Chevoo combines cubes of flavored goat cheese with infused olive oil. Both the cheese and oil contribute their own flavors to the mix, and while both entities remain separate they play off each other wonderfully. There are currently three varieties: chili chevre and lemon oil; smoked sea salt chevre and rosemary oil; dill chevre and garlic oil. You can dip bread in the oil then top it with its accompanying chevre. Add a little balsamic mixture and the whole jar enlivens a salad. Or do the same on top of pasta or roasted vegetables.
Gerald and Susan Tuck, Chevoo’s producers, emigrated to Northern California from Australia, where marinated chevre is a staple. They begin with local goat curd and extra virgin olive oil, then steep the oil for 4-8 weeks in a giant “tea bag” filled with the appropriate crushed botanical. Then they bring the chevre and oil together in the jar. The oil lends the cheese a richness, and all the flavors are robust but subtle. Our family’s favorite was the sea salt and rosemary.
Chevoo is sold in over 400 stores: Whole Foods, New Seasons, and Market of Choice in Portland and Seattle, as well as many smaller stores in California. The Tucks recently opened a 10,000 square foot production facility in Healdsburg. The standard 7 oz jar retails for $9.99; “picnic size” 4 0z jars and a 2.3 food service tub have just been released.
January 1, 2017
It’s been an edgy, uncomfortable time, but I am in a good mood today. I saw a great concert last night, the jam band Railroad Earth, in a loving environment filled with light and balloons. this is coming off of a holiday season filled with friends and family. Our house is cozy and warm. I tend to be a default positive person, and I cannot help but feel happy.
Please forgive me if I sound preachy, but there has been a wringing of hands/end of days mood going on since the election that is driving me crazy. I have a few New Year’s meditations and advice to send out into the world:
- Remember that no matter how heartfelt and valid your opinions are, there are no doubt people in the world–both in this country and in countries that are our supposed enemies, who hold equally heartfelt and valid opinions that are quite different It’s especially important in these divided times to listen to people with an open heart and grant their viewpoint and values the same weight that you do your own. While campaigning for Bernie Sanders last year, I ran into several people who preferred Bernie to Hillary because they thought he was more supportive of their socially conservative views. In reality, his personal views on these issues, such as abortion, were the same as Hillary’s. But what he was doing was validating other, equally respectable beliefs instead of scorning or pitying them. If Hillary had not called half the US population “deplorables”, she might be President today. Also people’s values are not a package deal. They come in many nuanced varieties. Do not presume.
- The means determine the end. I definitely come down on that side of this ancient philosophical debate. If you wouldn’t overlook political malfeasance in the Republican party, not to speak of foreign countries (ie Russian hacking) don’t overlook it in the Democratic party. Demand integrity from all entities.
- Think critically. Not every meme blasted about social media is true. For that matter, neither is everything written in the New York Times. Think like the investigative journalists that should be out there.
- Be as strong as you need to be. I don’t know how we will be tested this year. I hope not as much as we think. But whatever we face we are going to need to face it with courage and never be afraid to speak out or take appropriate action.
- Let’s forget about identity politics and concentrate on our shared humanity. We are one little species on one little planet; do our minor differences truly define us? I don’t think so. Every human on this planet deserves their basic needs met, every one deserves to live a meaningful life. Let’s concentrate on that and fight the economic structures that hurt us all and the threats to the environment that endanger us all.
- This is no time for wringing your hands!!! (no time is, really, but especially not difficult times). We cannot control what life throws at us. But we can control our reaction. How strong we are, how understanding, how joyful–these are decisions that are always in our power, every minute of every day. We are resilient beings. We will get through this.
- Happy New Year to everyone!
December 31, 2016
This book deals with the traumas of the Encarnation family, who are split apart when the mother, Soledad, flees Cuba with her two young children in 1980, leaving her “counterrevolutionary” husband Uxbal behind. the family settles in chilly and strange Hartford, Connecticut, where Soledad begins a tempestuous relationship with a Dutch tobacco farmer, Willems , who aspires to re-create fine Cuban cigars. Her troubled daughter Isabel misses her father desperately, and at the age of 18 or so, returns to Cuba, locating Uxbal, who is dying of alcoholism in a raggedy rebel camp. Her brother Ulises soon follows, looking for her, and eventually Soledad and Willems show up too, for a bizarre family reunion. (how all these folks get to Cuba in the 1990-‘s I truly wonder??)
While Palacio exhibits flashes of eloquence, especially when describing Cuba, the novel never truly comes together. The politics of the time are evidently clear to the author, but he never conveys any sense of them to the reader. I never understood what the “rebels” were rebelling against or what drove Soledad to take her children and leave everything she knew behind. The characters always feel symbolic, never like real human beings. Hartford is never portrayed at all–we see the area only from the point of view of Willem’s tobacco farm, and why he chooses to grow this quintessentially Southern crop in New England is never elucidated. Palacio tells his story from a weird omniscient perspective, diving erratically into all the character’s point of view in an irritating and distracting manner. Lots of ponderous Catholic theology drains any emotional tension the book manages to build up. And there’s tons of random weirdness–Soledad, dying of cancer, becomes fascinated with the soap opera “As the World Turns,” and makes elaborate diagrams of the multitudinous storylines therein. She and Willems enjoy violent sex. Ulysses is practically seven feet tall. Why? Who knows? Who cares?
Unless you are fascinated by anything Cuban, I would give Mortifications a pass.
December 23, 2016
This is not really a post. Many more posts are on their way! I just wanted to let me readers know about my essay, “An Unsettled Woman in an Unsettled World”, published in the December 206 issue of Literary Mama, an online magazine. I invite everyone to check it out!
December 9, 2016
Donald Trump is the shock jock of politics. Believing that any attention is better than no attention, he has spent his entire career spouting outrageous statements that provoke people and make headlines. Maybe just for once we shouldn’t fall for this distraction? It would be wiser to focus on who Trump is rather than his last ridiculous tweet. And that is a billionaire developer and the producer of a hit reality TV show. He manipulates the public with the same disdain as other business titans and producers of television shlock. He runs with an elite cosmopolitan crowd in New York and Florida, including the Clintons, that is by no means culturally conservative. While he has awoken and given legitimacy to a truly vile form of racism, sexism, and homophobia there is no sign he actually believes any of this in his personal life. He may yet crack down on the rights of women, gays, or religious minorities but so far he gives no sign of doing so. What he is doing, however, is consolidating the oligarchy Bernie Sanders tried (and is still trying) so hard to fight, and betraying the economic hopes of many of his (misguided) supporters.
Stop worrying about transgender bathrooms for a minute and take a look as his cabinet appointees. His pick for Labor Secretary, Andrew Putzer, is a fast food executive who opposes raising the minimum wage. His pick for the head of the EPA is Scott Pruitt, a climate change skeptic with close ties to the oil and gas industry. Tom Price (HUD), financier Wilbur Ross (Commerce Dept) and Ben Carson (HUD) all favor rolling back regulations that restrict the overreaches of business interests. He’s picked two Goldman Sachs veterans to oversee our economic future: Steven Mnuchin as Treasury Secretary and Gary Cohn as Treasury Secretary.
This does not sound like “shaking things up” by anyone’s definition. What it sounds like is more of the same.
The other thing to pay close attention to is the fight for power within the Democratic Party. Anyone who thinks Clinton’s picks for these cabinet positions would have been radically better is deluded (witness her speeches to Goldman Sachs and pharmaceutical industries, the fact she has yet to take a position on the Dakota pipeline, the fact that her honorary campaign head Debbie Wasserman Schultz is a big promoter of the TPP, etc). Yet her wing of the party–after all the damage they’ve done, at this place they’ve led us to–are still desperately trying to hang onto power. Keith Ellison, Bernie Sander’s pick for head of the DNC has long fought for the rights of the 99%. He also happens to be black and a Muslim. Tulsi Gabbard, a two time Iraq War veteran quit her job as vice chair of the DNC to campaign tirelessly for Bernie Sanders. She is a rising influence in Congress and even met with Donald Trump to counsel him on foreign policy issues. She also happens to be a woman and a Hindu.
Let’s not let shock headlines and cultural differences distract us from what’s really important for all of us as Americans.
November 21, 2016
Portland’s Central Eastside exemplifies what I love best about living in a city: all the old wood, slanted floors, tin roofs, angles, shadows, and surprises. Always a place where things are made and sold, the Central Eastside is now home to many new enterprises including chocolates, salts, distilleries, and import emporiums. But its after the work day is done that things get truly interesting, with innovative restaurants, electronic music concerts, and other entertainments that are just tantalizingly off the beaten path.
One new discovery is the Portland Night Market. Or at least it’s new to me; apparently it’s been going on for a year. Mash up Last Thursday with Saturday Market and you will get the Night Market. Close to 4 PM (opening time) your only clue to anything special going on is the line forming in front of a cavernous old warehouse. But inside the space is bustling with several rooms of food and craft vendors–distilleries, hot sauce makers, T shirt designers, ceramicists, bakers, jewelers and more. Go upstairs and you will find a pop up speakeasy brought to you by the new Sellwood speakeasy, Bible Club. Speakeasies by definition have an enticing illicit air but Bible Club carries this off better than any other Portland speakeasy I’ve seen, an improvised room with impeccable Prohibition style detail complete with tin ceiling, on the otherwise largely deserted second floor of the warehouse. The bartenders are dressed twenties-style as well, and create craft cocktails with panache, complete with giant ice cubes chopped from an ice block, artfully zested oranges, and artisan maraschino cherries that bear no relationship to the neon red ones in jars. The Old Fashioned they made me was the best I’ve ever had.
Behind the warehouse are more vendors and an appealing array of food carts, including some fantastic looking Korean fried chicken. As evening sets in, live music starts, a diverse and friendly crowd fills the place to bursting, and everything truly gets jumping. This is everything that’s great about Portland.
Portland Night Market is open one weekend per season, from 4-11 PM