...who was very, very poor. Her single mother was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease which, in its early stages, rendered her unable to work. Also plagued by depression, her mother was somehow able to find her feet and move them into a small, section-8 apartment. Food stamps lined the freezer with TV dinners (ironically, since their TV was barely a TV at all), and they settled in, optimistic about the future.
Although most of the year was spent scraping by, the little girl came home from school one day to find her mother in high spirits. She was quickly bundled up and cheerily taken to the car. The girl watched through the window as the houses passed in a magical blur of light. The tiny, white speckles glittered like stars; at the sight of the candy-colored bulbs against the evening sky, the little girl held her breath. She could smell the snow in the air.
Just as the streetlights began their intrusive hum, they pulled into a tiny local produce stand and braced for the cold. Her mother's long, wavy hair had been tucked inside of her coat. Her lips were strangely bare - the fuchsia lipstick was missing, and in its place a slight curve of the mouth produced the faintest of smiles. The girl stumbled wide-eyed through the empty lot, straight towards a sad group of small evergreens, which by now had begun to turn brown on the edges.
Christmas.
Her mother beckoned her to come help. To the little girl's delight, her mother scrutinized each one; this one was too tall, this one too skinny, and this one - not enough branches. At the corner of the lot stood a pear-shaped tree, round on the bottom and slender at the top. The little girl took off her glove and felt the prickly branches on her skin. It smelled like winter, crisp and green. She felt it; this was their tree.
The money was given. The tree was tied. And, later in the night, the little girl would watch as the tree - their tree - came to life with colored lights and shiny, glass ornaments. The scratchy, floral couch melted away; her favorite rocking chair disappeared. All she could see was her mother's hands - the pretty, painted nails shining in the lights - hanging the delicate ornaments on each branch. She watched her stand back, tilt her head to the side, purse her lips, and readjust a branch or two. The pink lights that were supposed to be red lit her cheeks. And, for a moment, all was right with the world.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
The problem with Biblical literalism
I can only preface this by saying that I don't pretend or claim to have all the answers. None of us do.
In church we're checking out 1st Peter - and I'm privileged to be able to talk with some of the wisest and most wonderful people I know about such things as chapter 3 (as well as a myriad of other seemingly unanswerable life questions).
Is it in my nature to cringe at such thoughts? That women are the "weaker" partner? That, as far as God's esteem for creatures goes, it's man, then me, then the animal kingdom? Of course it's my nature. Apart from the obvious (hello, I'm a woman?), I was raised in an environment that's not conducive to this kind of thought. But I've tried, as is necessary when evaluating one's interpretation of just about anything, to be objective. I've wrestled with it, tried to accept it, questioned it, spent time in prayer over it... and in every single instance I've been left with the same answer. (I'll get to that in a bit.)
Is it possible for this revered apostle to be wrong? Of course it is. He's human. I think Peter was an astounding individual... But since I no longer find myself in the camp of people who view the entire Biblical canon as God's incontestable word, I cannot take his thoughts (or anyone else's for that matter) as such. Are his words inspired by God? I'm sure they were. There's evidence of this in his teachings - he advocated selflessness, just as Christ did. But I cannot fault Peter for being trapped within the cultural paradigm of his day. Nor can I fault Paul, who wrote in 2nd Timothy Chp. 2: "But I do not allow a woman to teach or exercise authority over a man, but to remain quiet. For it was Adam who was first created, and then Eve." He goes on to say that Adam wasn't the one who was deceived - it was the "woman." Elsewhere he continues this view. In 1st Corinthians 11, if I may paraphrase here, Paul claims the following:
- While Christ is the authority over every man, man is the authority over every woman. (Check out the Greek translation for "head")
- Although man was created for God, woman was created FOR man. (Woman "originates" from man)
- While man is the image/glory of God, women are the glory of men.
I don't think either of these men meant for their words to be taken figuratively. They truly believed these things. I think the disconnect here is twofold. First, this view doesn't quite corroborate the actions of Christ, and second, this view is dependent on a literal interpretation of the creation story.
Let me address the first. It is undeniable that while Jesus walked the earth, women were still objectified and completely dependent upon men. Men spoke for women in society. Only men were educated. Men controlled all the resources. There were very strict laws regarding the interaction between and the hierarchy regarding men and women - all connected to Judaic tradition. But consistent with most of His actions, Jesus bucks the system here. He talked with women. He allowed a prostitute to convey her emotions to Him in an act of repentance. He healed them - and, moreover, referred to them as heiresses of God's promise, "daughter(s) of Abraham" (Luke 13:15). Then, in Matthew 19 (and Mark 10), when questioned about divorce, Jesus reminds his crowd of two things. One, that God "made them male and female." Two, that they were made to be joined together as one - not two, with one individual holding more weight than the other - one. Not once, in any known record of Jesus' words, does He refer to any sort of hierarchy dating back to creation. He never supports the claim that women were made for men, to be the glory of men. Why would He call the woman with the back problem a daughter of Abraham (implying her inclusion into God's promise) if she was merely a creature formed to benefit men? Furthermore, referring to little children, Jesus reminded His closest followers that the kingdom of Heaven belonged to "such as these" (Matthew 19). Having taught ages two through five for many years, other than some anatomical curiosity, small children don't quite understand how "different" the sexes are. I know He's referring to the blind faith and innocence of children here, but I can't help drawing this conclusion as well. Children, although constantly searching for and exerting their autonomy, aren't quite as self-aware as us disillusioned adults. :) Hey, it's true. They are more prone to love and accept one another as equals - less jaded by society's flaws, if you will. Like I said, I can't help but draw this comparison. Time after time Jesus shocks the leaders of His day (remember, the leaders of the church were leaders of society - there was no separation there) with His treatment of just about everyone, including women. Remember the woman who was about to be stoned, but was forgiven by Jesus, and told to "go and sin no more?" He applies the standard the men hold her to to the men themselves: "He who is without sin, cast the first stone" (John 8:7). Does anything else really need to be said?
Probably not, but I will anyway. And here's where you might label me as a heretic. (Label on.) Even from an early age, as interested in ancient literature as I was, I couldn't help but note the similarities between the creation story found in Genesis and various other creation myths. Then, in college (a "secular" college, I should note), I took as many courses as I could on Judeo-Christian literature, its origins, its interpretations... and although I was exposed to what I think is a TON of BS - there were a few things that really stuck with me. One of them is an examination of Genesis and its four very differing strains of authorship. If you really want to look into it, it's quite interesting; actually, it's all interesting, absorbing differing interpretations and views and scholarly studies... but I digress. I will simplify my feelings on the Biblical creation story as this:
Myth. Myth frequently seeks to explain how something came to be; in this instance, someone set out to explain how we got here, in what order we arrived, why snakes slither, why women have pain during childbirth, and why men must perform manual labor for sustenance. (I will not, in this post, dare touch on the debate regarding why Genesis was written much later than the story it refers to if humans were as advanced then as we are now, the debate regarding the overwhelming scientific evidence that the earth is many, many years old, the details of the Council of Nicaea, the debate concerning the integrity of various other parts of this original text that were or weren't included, or the etymology of the word "Adam," or the possibilities regarding the genealogy that traces Jesus back to an "Adam".) I cannot look at this story as anything other than that - a story. I don't feel right about acknowledging this as historical fact. I find it to be a valuable allegory - one that, at the very root of its message, explains human nature: our unwillingness to believe that sin has consequences. I'm sure Peter and Paul took this account literally, and based their assumptions on nature's hierarchy accordingly. Which is why I reject it.
I know this all begs the question... what, then, do you "believe," and how do you decide what's truth or not? All I can say is that I choose to put faith in everything Jesus himself said. (I know, I know - if we're calling into question the literal value of Biblical text, what makes me more inclined to accept the recorded words of Christ? I can only tell you that I see consistency in His actions, across all accounts of His life, and that's good enough for me.) If He's the man I'm following, and He spent His time teaching about grace and humility and chasing after God with all your heart and the promise of even greater works than His by those who have faith in Him - but never once claimed that women are inferior, or that women serve no purpose other than to bring glory to men, or that women hold no spiritual authority - I'm not too terribly concerned about a first-century quote from a guy that was, in my opinion, misunderstood. I think most Christians would like to believe that the apostles knew what they were talking about. Unfortunately, they were still human, and were OFTEN corrected by Jesus, who consistently revealed to them truth that was difficult for them to wrap their minds around.
Does it mean that these views are completely irrelevant? Not in my opinion. The ultimate submission - laying down your will for that of another (or your life, if we're looking at Christ's example) - is a complete act of selflessness. I think men and women are equal partners in marriage, in society, and in the promise of Christ - and that both partners should live selflessly for one another daily. Isn't that what Jesus was all about? Never mind that my grandfather - a Baptist pastor - beat his wife senseless, clinging the aforementioned verses. Never mind that he terrorized his daughter (my mother) with the lie that she "isn't good enough." Never mind his claims that women are "less than dirt," or the support from his church to degrade and abuse women because they are "under his authority." I cannot accept this view; I cannot support this interpretation. Of this I am sure: he is a deranged individual, as are those who support this interpretation, and his actions will have grave consequences. But I need to say that my decisions regarding these verses are not connected to the bitterness and pain I affiliate with them. Having had them quoted to me as a child, like I said earlier, I've done a lot of searching and wrestling with God, and EVERY TIME feel a peace and a confirmation of my belief regarding these scriptures. I am continually reminded of how valued, precious, and strong I am in the eyes of the Lord. Some of the most incredible ministry I've had the opportunity of witnessing has been by women - courageous, intelligent women I strive daily to be like. Am I to discredit the amazing things they've done in the name of Christ because Paul didn't understand that women were also given spiritual authority?
I recognize and value the fundamental differences between men and women. I embrace my inclination to nurture and to seek affection, and respect a man's desire to feel trusted and relied upon. But I was created alongside men, not for their pleasure, but for God's purpose alone. Are we accountable to the people in our lives for our actions? Of course. But my ultimate authority is Christ. And nothing will ever change that.
If I could hold onto one truth regarding God's view and expectations of women, authored by the apostles, I'd choose the one that fits most perfectly into Jesus' treatment of everyone He encountered:
"There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." Galatians 3:23
In church we're checking out 1st Peter - and I'm privileged to be able to talk with some of the wisest and most wonderful people I know about such things as chapter 3 (as well as a myriad of other seemingly unanswerable life questions).
Is it in my nature to cringe at such thoughts? That women are the "weaker" partner? That, as far as God's esteem for creatures goes, it's man, then me, then the animal kingdom? Of course it's my nature. Apart from the obvious (hello, I'm a woman?), I was raised in an environment that's not conducive to this kind of thought. But I've tried, as is necessary when evaluating one's interpretation of just about anything, to be objective. I've wrestled with it, tried to accept it, questioned it, spent time in prayer over it... and in every single instance I've been left with the same answer. (I'll get to that in a bit.)
Is it possible for this revered apostle to be wrong? Of course it is. He's human. I think Peter was an astounding individual... But since I no longer find myself in the camp of people who view the entire Biblical canon as God's incontestable word, I cannot take his thoughts (or anyone else's for that matter) as such. Are his words inspired by God? I'm sure they were. There's evidence of this in his teachings - he advocated selflessness, just as Christ did. But I cannot fault Peter for being trapped within the cultural paradigm of his day. Nor can I fault Paul, who wrote in 2nd Timothy Chp. 2: "But I do not allow a woman to teach or exercise authority over a man, but to remain quiet. For it was Adam who was first created, and then Eve." He goes on to say that Adam wasn't the one who was deceived - it was the "woman." Elsewhere he continues this view. In 1st Corinthians 11, if I may paraphrase here, Paul claims the following:
- While Christ is the authority over every man, man is the authority over every woman. (Check out the Greek translation for "head")
- Although man was created for God, woman was created FOR man. (Woman "originates" from man)
- While man is the image/glory of God, women are the glory of men.
I don't think either of these men meant for their words to be taken figuratively. They truly believed these things. I think the disconnect here is twofold. First, this view doesn't quite corroborate the actions of Christ, and second, this view is dependent on a literal interpretation of the creation story.
Let me address the first. It is undeniable that while Jesus walked the earth, women were still objectified and completely dependent upon men. Men spoke for women in society. Only men were educated. Men controlled all the resources. There were very strict laws regarding the interaction between and the hierarchy regarding men and women - all connected to Judaic tradition. But consistent with most of His actions, Jesus bucks the system here. He talked with women. He allowed a prostitute to convey her emotions to Him in an act of repentance. He healed them - and, moreover, referred to them as heiresses of God's promise, "daughter(s) of Abraham" (Luke 13:15). Then, in Matthew 19 (and Mark 10), when questioned about divorce, Jesus reminds his crowd of two things. One, that God "made them male and female." Two, that they were made to be joined together as one - not two, with one individual holding more weight than the other - one. Not once, in any known record of Jesus' words, does He refer to any sort of hierarchy dating back to creation. He never supports the claim that women were made for men, to be the glory of men. Why would He call the woman with the back problem a daughter of Abraham (implying her inclusion into God's promise) if she was merely a creature formed to benefit men? Furthermore, referring to little children, Jesus reminded His closest followers that the kingdom of Heaven belonged to "such as these" (Matthew 19). Having taught ages two through five for many years, other than some anatomical curiosity, small children don't quite understand how "different" the sexes are. I know He's referring to the blind faith and innocence of children here, but I can't help drawing this conclusion as well. Children, although constantly searching for and exerting their autonomy, aren't quite as self-aware as us disillusioned adults. :) Hey, it's true. They are more prone to love and accept one another as equals - less jaded by society's flaws, if you will. Like I said, I can't help but draw this comparison. Time after time Jesus shocks the leaders of His day (remember, the leaders of the church were leaders of society - there was no separation there) with His treatment of just about everyone, including women. Remember the woman who was about to be stoned, but was forgiven by Jesus, and told to "go and sin no more?" He applies the standard the men hold her to to the men themselves: "He who is without sin, cast the first stone" (John 8:7). Does anything else really need to be said?
Probably not, but I will anyway. And here's where you might label me as a heretic. (Label on.) Even from an early age, as interested in ancient literature as I was, I couldn't help but note the similarities between the creation story found in Genesis and various other creation myths. Then, in college (a "secular" college, I should note), I took as many courses as I could on Judeo-Christian literature, its origins, its interpretations... and although I was exposed to what I think is a TON of BS - there were a few things that really stuck with me. One of them is an examination of Genesis and its four very differing strains of authorship. If you really want to look into it, it's quite interesting; actually, it's all interesting, absorbing differing interpretations and views and scholarly studies... but I digress. I will simplify my feelings on the Biblical creation story as this:
Myth. Myth frequently seeks to explain how something came to be; in this instance, someone set out to explain how we got here, in what order we arrived, why snakes slither, why women have pain during childbirth, and why men must perform manual labor for sustenance. (I will not, in this post, dare touch on the debate regarding why Genesis was written much later than the story it refers to if humans were as advanced then as we are now, the debate regarding the overwhelming scientific evidence that the earth is many, many years old, the details of the Council of Nicaea, the debate concerning the integrity of various other parts of this original text that were or weren't included, or the etymology of the word "Adam," or the possibilities regarding the genealogy that traces Jesus back to an "Adam".) I cannot look at this story as anything other than that - a story. I don't feel right about acknowledging this as historical fact. I find it to be a valuable allegory - one that, at the very root of its message, explains human nature: our unwillingness to believe that sin has consequences. I'm sure Peter and Paul took this account literally, and based their assumptions on nature's hierarchy accordingly. Which is why I reject it.
I know this all begs the question... what, then, do you "believe," and how do you decide what's truth or not? All I can say is that I choose to put faith in everything Jesus himself said. (I know, I know - if we're calling into question the literal value of Biblical text, what makes me more inclined to accept the recorded words of Christ? I can only tell you that I see consistency in His actions, across all accounts of His life, and that's good enough for me.) If He's the man I'm following, and He spent His time teaching about grace and humility and chasing after God with all your heart and the promise of even greater works than His by those who have faith in Him - but never once claimed that women are inferior, or that women serve no purpose other than to bring glory to men, or that women hold no spiritual authority - I'm not too terribly concerned about a first-century quote from a guy that was, in my opinion, misunderstood. I think most Christians would like to believe that the apostles knew what they were talking about. Unfortunately, they were still human, and were OFTEN corrected by Jesus, who consistently revealed to them truth that was difficult for them to wrap their minds around.
Does it mean that these views are completely irrelevant? Not in my opinion. The ultimate submission - laying down your will for that of another (or your life, if we're looking at Christ's example) - is a complete act of selflessness. I think men and women are equal partners in marriage, in society, and in the promise of Christ - and that both partners should live selflessly for one another daily. Isn't that what Jesus was all about? Never mind that my grandfather - a Baptist pastor - beat his wife senseless, clinging the aforementioned verses. Never mind that he terrorized his daughter (my mother) with the lie that she "isn't good enough." Never mind his claims that women are "less than dirt," or the support from his church to degrade and abuse women because they are "under his authority." I cannot accept this view; I cannot support this interpretation. Of this I am sure: he is a deranged individual, as are those who support this interpretation, and his actions will have grave consequences. But I need to say that my decisions regarding these verses are not connected to the bitterness and pain I affiliate with them. Having had them quoted to me as a child, like I said earlier, I've done a lot of searching and wrestling with God, and EVERY TIME feel a peace and a confirmation of my belief regarding these scriptures. I am continually reminded of how valued, precious, and strong I am in the eyes of the Lord. Some of the most incredible ministry I've had the opportunity of witnessing has been by women - courageous, intelligent women I strive daily to be like. Am I to discredit the amazing things they've done in the name of Christ because Paul didn't understand that women were also given spiritual authority?
I recognize and value the fundamental differences between men and women. I embrace my inclination to nurture and to seek affection, and respect a man's desire to feel trusted and relied upon. But I was created alongside men, not for their pleasure, but for God's purpose alone. Are we accountable to the people in our lives for our actions? Of course. But my ultimate authority is Christ. And nothing will ever change that.
If I could hold onto one truth regarding God's view and expectations of women, authored by the apostles, I'd choose the one that fits most perfectly into Jesus' treatment of everyone He encountered:
"There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." Galatians 3:23
Saturday, October 29, 2011
PuMpKiN ShOrTcAkEs
Scenario: It's Saturday morning and you're all out of eggs AND Buckwheat pancake mix. Your awful tires aren't suitable for the wintry mix outside. You've got Bisquick and leftover pumpkin. Time to improvise... :)
I looked online for a pumpkin biscuit recipe, but I couldn't find anything that really seemed like what I was looking for. So I took the original Bisquick shortcake recipe (minus the strawberries, of course) and added pumpkin. Here's what I came up with (I think!).
2 1/3 C Bisquick
3 Tbsp. melted butter
1/2 C of milk (add more if dough is too stiff)
Approx. 3/4 C pumpkin puree
1 Tbsp. pumpkin spice, plus a dash of extra cinnamon
3 Tbsp. white sugar
3 Tbsp. brown sugar
Use a spoon to combine ingredients in a large bowl. Then, use hands to mix properly until all ingredients are incorporated and dough is soft. Spoon giant, over-sized tablespoons onto an ungreased baking sheet. Cook @ 425 for 14 minutes. Directly out of oven, go over outsides of shortcakes with the end of a stick of butter and sprinkle with cinnamon sugar. Spread with butter when cut. Serve with pumpkin spice coffee.
Enjoy!
Monday, October 24, 2011
Anybody out there?
I don't really fit into any one "political party."
At the same time, I feel very strongly about my civic responsibilities to vote and to hold our government accountable.
That being said... I'm ultra-frustrated (as usual) at my options for next year. Will my ideal candidate ever appear?
I want to put someone in office who's not afraid to propose drastic changes (to everything). Our "system" is obviously not working - I'm afraid that merely "reforming" it won't do. I want someone who's going to cut government spending on those taking advantage of my tax dollars. I am in no way saying that we should get rid of public welfare systems - but at some point the argument for spending which benefits "the good of society" must give way to the realization that such readily available handouts clearly aren't doing our society any "good." "Good" would be motivating our fellow citizens to compete for a position in the work force, not encouraging unemployment and laziness. Yes, I want my taxes to help others. I want our nation to work together, even economically... but I'm tired of leading the upcoming generation in the wrong direction. I know several people in that narrow socioeconomic margin (it should be termed limbo) who make the bare minimum, work their tails off at multiple jobs, pay their own rent, buy their own groceries, make responsible choices about family planning and try their best to contribute to the community rather than be a "burden" to it - and yet these very same people are the ones "making too much." They are denied health care funds while their neighbors, sitting at home all day, are able to take themselves and their many children to a doctor sans charge. For years... and years... and years.
What happened to working hard?
I want a candidate who is, above all, serious about the environment. If the government is to regulate anything, it should be related to taking care of this quickly-diminishing resource we call "earth." Yes, I believe our climate is in crisis - global warming is, in my opinion, irrefutable. However, I have not yet been exposed to overwhelming evidence that climate change is directly related to carbon emissions. While it would certainly appear that way, looking at the climate history of the earth... this place is so prone to change and more change and back again that there's just no telling whether the current trend would've happened regardless. Despite this uncertainty, we should be competing to perfect clean energy forms. Yes, alternative fuels would decrease (and hopefully, one day, eliminate - once we can get rid of these nasty plastics) our dependence on the foreign oil market - but to me, that's just a nice side effect. Bottom line: stop being stupid. If we don't take care of the earth, it's not going to take care of us. Any candidate supporting additional drilling is completely off of my roster. Being the most powerful, intelligent species in the world comes with a responsibility to be good stewards of our resources and our fellow species - it's not a green light to overconsume, nor is it a ticket to exploit other species or to interfere with their habitats. Biggest. pet. peeve. ever. Anyway... and I'm serious when I say this - government-mandated recycling. Cut the war budget, bring our troops back home, stop trying to overhaul a culture that's entirely different than our own - and put that money toward social education programs and incentives that teach citizens and corporations how to reduce our negative impact on the environment.
I want a candidate who's willing to do everything in his/her power to decrease our dependence on China, for a myraid of reasons (concern for human/animal rights, cheap/easily dispensable products, TAKING JOBS FROM AMERICANS...).
I want a candidate who'll promise to take a second, third, and hundredth look at our justice system. Get it together, Congress - this "good behavior" thing is down right sinful. I'm not sure that we, as humans, are justified to end another human being's life - but to dishonor the victims who've been kidnapped and raped and mutilated and murdered by releasing their killers is just about the most nauseating thing I've EVER heard of.
I want a candidate who's going to stop focusing so much on "the war on drugs" and who'll spend that time creating ways to intrinsically motivate our nation as a whole to make better choices.
I know it's unrealistic, but I haven't completely given up hope. If anyone knows of such a candidate, please let me know. Until then I'll be living under a giant rock via sustenance farming with all of the endangered species.
Peace.
At the same time, I feel very strongly about my civic responsibilities to vote and to hold our government accountable.
That being said... I'm ultra-frustrated (as usual) at my options for next year. Will my ideal candidate ever appear?
I want to put someone in office who's not afraid to propose drastic changes (to everything). Our "system" is obviously not working - I'm afraid that merely "reforming" it won't do. I want someone who's going to cut government spending on those taking advantage of my tax dollars. I am in no way saying that we should get rid of public welfare systems - but at some point the argument for spending which benefits "the good of society" must give way to the realization that such readily available handouts clearly aren't doing our society any "good." "Good" would be motivating our fellow citizens to compete for a position in the work force, not encouraging unemployment and laziness. Yes, I want my taxes to help others. I want our nation to work together, even economically... but I'm tired of leading the upcoming generation in the wrong direction. I know several people in that narrow socioeconomic margin (it should be termed limbo) who make the bare minimum, work their tails off at multiple jobs, pay their own rent, buy their own groceries, make responsible choices about family planning and try their best to contribute to the community rather than be a "burden" to it - and yet these very same people are the ones "making too much." They are denied health care funds while their neighbors, sitting at home all day, are able to take themselves and their many children to a doctor sans charge. For years... and years... and years.
What happened to working hard?
I want a candidate who is, above all, serious about the environment. If the government is to regulate anything, it should be related to taking care of this quickly-diminishing resource we call "earth." Yes, I believe our climate is in crisis - global warming is, in my opinion, irrefutable. However, I have not yet been exposed to overwhelming evidence that climate change is directly related to carbon emissions. While it would certainly appear that way, looking at the climate history of the earth... this place is so prone to change and more change and back again that there's just no telling whether the current trend would've happened regardless. Despite this uncertainty, we should be competing to perfect clean energy forms. Yes, alternative fuels would decrease (and hopefully, one day, eliminate - once we can get rid of these nasty plastics) our dependence on the foreign oil market - but to me, that's just a nice side effect. Bottom line: stop being stupid. If we don't take care of the earth, it's not going to take care of us. Any candidate supporting additional drilling is completely off of my roster. Being the most powerful, intelligent species in the world comes with a responsibility to be good stewards of our resources and our fellow species - it's not a green light to overconsume, nor is it a ticket to exploit other species or to interfere with their habitats. Biggest. pet. peeve. ever. Anyway... and I'm serious when I say this - government-mandated recycling. Cut the war budget, bring our troops back home, stop trying to overhaul a culture that's entirely different than our own - and put that money toward social education programs and incentives that teach citizens and corporations how to reduce our negative impact on the environment.
I want a candidate who's willing to do everything in his/her power to decrease our dependence on China, for a myraid of reasons (concern for human/animal rights, cheap/easily dispensable products, TAKING JOBS FROM AMERICANS...).
I want a candidate who'll promise to take a second, third, and hundredth look at our justice system. Get it together, Congress - this "good behavior" thing is down right sinful. I'm not sure that we, as humans, are justified to end another human being's life - but to dishonor the victims who've been kidnapped and raped and mutilated and murdered by releasing their killers is just about the most nauseating thing I've EVER heard of.
I want a candidate who's going to stop focusing so much on "the war on drugs" and who'll spend that time creating ways to intrinsically motivate our nation as a whole to make better choices.
I know it's unrealistic, but I haven't completely given up hope. If anyone knows of such a candidate, please let me know. Until then I'll be living under a giant rock via sustenance farming with all of the endangered species.
Peace.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
How do you kick a cold?
So I beat a cold for the *very first* time (takes a bow in response to the generous applause). I know you're probably thinking... really? You've never gotten over a cold?
It's true. I have the immune system of a frail old woman. Even when I'm in peak physical condition and eating right, I can't fight anything off. It doesn't help that I need to have my tonsils removed - I've had strep throat every couple of months for the last year. But with my severe TMJ I'm terrified of having my jaw stretched too far again, so I'm hoping that my tonsils will just randomly disappear.
Anyway, every time I'm sick it lasts for weeks. A simple cold will inevitably turn into a nasty sinus infection. I always end up having to rush to the doctor for antibiotics. Airborne and all the vitamin C in the world won't touch it. And we all know, after taking the same antibiotics over and over, that they become ineffective.
I was camping last week with my runny-nosed 7th graders in Pennsylvania. Sharing a cabin with 7 crazy middle schoolers and running around on no sleep was the perfect cocktail for a monster cold. I came home for the weekend, experienced the sniffles, and when I returned to camp this week with 8th grade I was fighting it full-on. Without the time, patience, or money for the doctor, I decided to put good ol' vitamin D to the test.
I had read an article several months back about how vitamins are a rip-off; anyone who shares my distrust of the pharmaceutical industry has my immediate attention. While I don't normally consider Reader's Digest to be a reliable medical journal, they were right on. The author stated that vitamin C won't do anything for the immune system, and that vitamin D is the only effective tool against illness - something my best friend's mom has been telling me for years. I used to supplement with D, but I'm now convinced I wasn't taking enough. I started taking 8 a day. Symptoms decreased almost immediately. I also added hot tea to my regimen; I absolutely loathe tea of any kind, especially hot tea - but hot, herbal/green tea with no sugar soothed my sore throat, and I started to drink several cups a day. I don't think it's any coincidence that my condition improved.
Combine all this with a humidifier to comfort the membranes and ease the breathing, a generic Unisom for good sleep (first sleeping aid I've ever taken that actually works), Alka Seltzer to fight congestion, ibuprofen to reduce swelling in the throat and lots and lots of fresh air and even sunshine (more vitamin D!)... and there you have it. My very first win against the common cold.
So what are you secret weapons against the cold season?
It's true. I have the immune system of a frail old woman. Even when I'm in peak physical condition and eating right, I can't fight anything off. It doesn't help that I need to have my tonsils removed - I've had strep throat every couple of months for the last year. But with my severe TMJ I'm terrified of having my jaw stretched too far again, so I'm hoping that my tonsils will just randomly disappear.
Anyway, every time I'm sick it lasts for weeks. A simple cold will inevitably turn into a nasty sinus infection. I always end up having to rush to the doctor for antibiotics. Airborne and all the vitamin C in the world won't touch it. And we all know, after taking the same antibiotics over and over, that they become ineffective.
I was camping last week with my runny-nosed 7th graders in Pennsylvania. Sharing a cabin with 7 crazy middle schoolers and running around on no sleep was the perfect cocktail for a monster cold. I came home for the weekend, experienced the sniffles, and when I returned to camp this week with 8th grade I was fighting it full-on. Without the time, patience, or money for the doctor, I decided to put good ol' vitamin D to the test.
I had read an article several months back about how vitamins are a rip-off; anyone who shares my distrust of the pharmaceutical industry has my immediate attention. While I don't normally consider Reader's Digest to be a reliable medical journal, they were right on. The author stated that vitamin C won't do anything for the immune system, and that vitamin D is the only effective tool against illness - something my best friend's mom has been telling me for years. I used to supplement with D, but I'm now convinced I wasn't taking enough. I started taking 8 a day. Symptoms decreased almost immediately. I also added hot tea to my regimen; I absolutely loathe tea of any kind, especially hot tea - but hot, herbal/green tea with no sugar soothed my sore throat, and I started to drink several cups a day. I don't think it's any coincidence that my condition improved.
Combine all this with a humidifier to comfort the membranes and ease the breathing, a generic Unisom for good sleep (first sleeping aid I've ever taken that actually works), Alka Seltzer to fight congestion, ibuprofen to reduce swelling in the throat and lots and lots of fresh air and even sunshine (more vitamin D!)... and there you have it. My very first win against the common cold.
So what are you secret weapons against the cold season?
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Adventures in New England
This past July I met up with former roomies of mine from Denver in Worcester, MA. I had the pleasure of travelling through the West coast of Africa a few years back with Jaime, the girl who hosted us - and she had no shortage of plans for our girl's weekend. After catching up over various drinks the night we arrived, we were tipsy enough to crave copious amounts of sugar.
First stop: Sweet, a dessert bar in Worcester. We all know that feeling... when you walk into what you imagine will be an ultra-trendy establishment and there are maybe two other parties there... and you're faced with a choice: Stay and get the party started or head back home. We, of course, opted to get the party started. I wasn't impressed with the food - pastries were generally dry, accompanying sauces too thick or too sweet, that sort of thing. But we were friends with the wait staff in no time and rocking out to bad pop music while drinking Prosecco. What more could a girl ask for? The menu was limited but fun; French donuts with peanut butter and jelly, Cracker Jack popcorn ice cream... creative, to say the least. But they lacked in execution. Still, we had a fabulous time.
Next was Newport, RI. We opted for a cheap hotel and fully expected roaches and strands of hair in the shower, of which there were none. Having spent the day on the beach (and I wish I remembered the name of the beach, the water was really serene and pleasant), we dragged our sunburned selves back for the ultimate girly-girl time: getting ready. After much deliberation, advice, and trading undergarments/accessories/hair products, we were ready for a night out. We ate at a restaurant on the water - the food was, again, unmemorable, but eating while watching the sunset at the dock was magical. The bar scene in Newport was interesting. Combine the preppy, upscale, trying-to-be-exclusive feel of D.C. with the coolness of Canton - et voila. I had a blast. Despite parking tickets and tired feet, we bar hopped until we were ready to crash, and loved every minute. I'll definitely be visiting Newport again.
Boston was next. And shame on me, teaching U.S. History, never having been there. Philly's great, I love D.C., and I adore Manhattan - but I've gotta say, Boston is my favorite U.S. city so far. So full of history, so old-town New England... and it's just so unexpectedly green. I wished we had stayed for the night (hey, something to do next time, right?) I'm dying to try the restaurants and bars... to meet locals... just seems like an interesting place. We walked around and enjoyed just taking the city in.
That evening we ventured out in Worcester to a place called Evo. It was cute and artsy and everything you'd expect from a vegetarian-friendly establishment (options for everyone). My salad was amazing - greens, blue cheese, walnuts, some other-worldly vinaigrette - as was my salmon. The drinks, though, were my favorite. Clean and crisp, never too sweet, perfectly mixed. I love this place. And then, after a good night's sleep and plenty of girl-talk, it was time for Martha's Vineyard.
Yessss.
I expected something better than Cape May (and maybe I'm just partial at this point) - and while it wasn't the Cape, I fell in love with its quiet charm. I absolutely must get back to MV (didn't get a chance to go to the Black Dog, but it's on the list for next time). It was too overcast to do much swimming, but Jaime showed us the bridge where we'll jump off into the water next time around. Can't wait. Rather than bore you with the details of every single place we visited (as I tend to do), I'll highlight my three favs:
- The Gingerbread Houses. At first, I compared them to the Victorian houses in Cape May, but my snobbery was quickly put to rest when I heard the history. Do some Google-ing - very, very cool.
- Gay Head cliffs. Iconic, beautiful, peaceful. Loved it.
-
- Sweet E's Bakery. A little background: I've been searching for the perfect cupcake for two years. Since cupcakeries are popping up everywhere, I decided a while ago that one of these trendy new shops is bound to have the world's best cupcake. While admittedly I had only made it through the Potomac region, I was fairly certain it would take a lifetime. I even waited in line for 3 hours at Georgetown Cupcakes (site of TLC's show, DC Cupcakes), only to be completely disappointed. The secret to the soft, plump look of their cupcakes? Cream cheese icing. In just about everything. Cream cheese icing should be reserved for spice cakes and the occasional lemon cake. They were also WAY to sweet. Sweet E's was adorable, and I never expected to completely fall in love, but I did. And fast. I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.
Okay... seriously? Perfect. Perfect. A chocolate on chocolate cupcake needs to be just right - perfect balance of that deep chocolatiness and sweetness, perfect icing-to-cake ratio, perfect texture, traditional buttercream... and Sweet E's did it all. I kid you not, I'll be back to MV just for the cupcakes. We actually waited for the shop to open, so it was as fresh as it could be. Needless to say, the search is over. A little anti-climactic, if you will (they were here on the East Coast the whole time) but I'll certainly enjoy hunting down a runner-up. :)
I love you, New England, and I'll be back next summer to run amok!
Foodie Heaven at the Cape (June 2011)
So happy to have returned to Cape May this summer (don't get me wrong, Miami was fabulous - but a whole year without Cape May?!) While we usually go to all of our normal spots to dine, we were motivated to try new places this year - and we did. Lucky for us :) Here's a quick rundown of our new dining experiences, as well as some highlights of our traditional ones. It's not Las Vegas, but I promise you, as far as food goes, you can't go wrong in Cape May.
The Washington Inn - classic, upscale American dining. Pricey? Yes. Worth it? Ohhh yes. My favorite restaurant of all time. (Refer to previous post about their crabcakes.) They know how to cook a filet better than anyone in the area. Flawless sides. Excellent cocktails. Impeccable service. Hazelnut-encrusted halibut = pure deliciousness. I can't say enough about it.
A Ca Mia - Italian, moderately priced, worth the trip for the shrimp scampi alone. I was sad to hear, however, that the baker (they also have a small bakery) who's made the classic pig sugar cookies for years has retired. :(
410 Bank Street - eclectic Island cuisine, moderately priced. Tried it for the first time this summer - WHOA. I'd have to say it's one of my favorite restaurants for the atmosphere alone. I love that sound of wine-induced conversation. We started with quail over summer greens. Neither of us had ever had quail and, needless to say, it's all we can talk about now. It was the tenderest, juiciest, most flavorful bird I've ever tasted. You couldn't cook a chicken that way if you wanted to. It was truly perfect. Their blackened sea scallops are a local favorite: thinly sliced fan-style, the scallop pieces are blackened individually, making the dish pop with flavor. Yes, they were awesome, but if you're going to impress me with scallops, do it by cooking the entire piece (a difficult feat, to be sure). The prime rib and salmon were also very nice. It certainly didn't hurt that we brought our own bottle of Argetine Malbec (straight from Argentina, a gift from a friend) :).
Copper Fish - upscale seafood. Pricey but worth every cent. Blueberry scallops were to DIE for. My mouth is watering as I type. Tad enjoyed the Firecracker calamari, as well as an outstanding Kobe meatloaf. My salmon was cooked to absolute perfection - flaky, flavorful but not overly fishy, paired perfectly with the potatoes. I will definitely be returning to Copper Fish. It's a fairly new place and the decor is beautiful and a lot more mod than most restaurants in the area, but I do wish the atmosphere wasn't quite so hushed.
The Blue Pig - classic American upscale, lots of seafood to choose from. Pricey - worth it, depending on what you order. I will first say that their outdoor dining is my favorite. There's something about being under those garden lights on a summery night right next to the Congress Hall hotel. Just sitting there feels ultra-classy. :) However, you really have to be choosy about your dish. Don't expect a whole lot of flavor with any white fish they serve, or to be completely blown away. Their salads and sides, however, are fantastic.
Stumpo's - R.I.P. We missed you and we're sad to see our favorite lunch spot go.
The Mad Batter - Breakfast and pub fare. Reasonably priced. Chances are, if you're in Cape May, you're staying at a B&B that already provides breakfast. Mad Batter is the perfect choice for breakfast or brunch when you've arrived in town before check-in. While the crowd (and it is ALWAYS crowded) makes service sub-par, the food is excellent. Try the pancakes, for sure. Country potatoes and omelettes are also delish.
Martini Beach - tapas. Overpriced. The food just doesn't cut it. I know tapas is trendy, but if you're going to do it, do it right. They do, however, offer a fantastic bar menu, and dining right on the beach (beach view from the table) is always fun.
The Ugly Mug - pub. Cheap. Good for a quick sunburn-recovery meal, like fajitas.
Jackson Mountain Cafe - pub. Cheap. Perfect for late-night snacks. Definitely get the roast beef au jus.
The Brown Room - bar @ Congress Hall. Probably the best bar in Cape May, even if it's crazy expensive. The live music and fancy drinks are totally worth it :)
I think that about sums it up. Hope this inspires you to head up to the Cape and try something new. More on where to stay some other time :) Happy eating!
The Washington Inn - classic, upscale American dining. Pricey? Yes. Worth it? Ohhh yes. My favorite restaurant of all time. (Refer to previous post about their crabcakes.) They know how to cook a filet better than anyone in the area. Flawless sides. Excellent cocktails. Impeccable service. Hazelnut-encrusted halibut = pure deliciousness. I can't say enough about it.
A Ca Mia - Italian, moderately priced, worth the trip for the shrimp scampi alone. I was sad to hear, however, that the baker (they also have a small bakery) who's made the classic pig sugar cookies for years has retired. :(
410 Bank Street - eclectic Island cuisine, moderately priced. Tried it for the first time this summer - WHOA. I'd have to say it's one of my favorite restaurants for the atmosphere alone. I love that sound of wine-induced conversation. We started with quail over summer greens. Neither of us had ever had quail and, needless to say, it's all we can talk about now. It was the tenderest, juiciest, most flavorful bird I've ever tasted. You couldn't cook a chicken that way if you wanted to. It was truly perfect. Their blackened sea scallops are a local favorite: thinly sliced fan-style, the scallop pieces are blackened individually, making the dish pop with flavor. Yes, they were awesome, but if you're going to impress me with scallops, do it by cooking the entire piece (a difficult feat, to be sure). The prime rib and salmon were also very nice. It certainly didn't hurt that we brought our own bottle of Argetine Malbec (straight from Argentina, a gift from a friend) :).
Copper Fish - upscale seafood. Pricey but worth every cent. Blueberry scallops were to DIE for. My mouth is watering as I type. Tad enjoyed the Firecracker calamari, as well as an outstanding Kobe meatloaf. My salmon was cooked to absolute perfection - flaky, flavorful but not overly fishy, paired perfectly with the potatoes. I will definitely be returning to Copper Fish. It's a fairly new place and the decor is beautiful and a lot more mod than most restaurants in the area, but I do wish the atmosphere wasn't quite so hushed.
The Blue Pig - classic American upscale, lots of seafood to choose from. Pricey - worth it, depending on what you order. I will first say that their outdoor dining is my favorite. There's something about being under those garden lights on a summery night right next to the Congress Hall hotel. Just sitting there feels ultra-classy. :) However, you really have to be choosy about your dish. Don't expect a whole lot of flavor with any white fish they serve, or to be completely blown away. Their salads and sides, however, are fantastic.
Stumpo's - R.I.P. We missed you and we're sad to see our favorite lunch spot go.
The Mad Batter - Breakfast and pub fare. Reasonably priced. Chances are, if you're in Cape May, you're staying at a B&B that already provides breakfast. Mad Batter is the perfect choice for breakfast or brunch when you've arrived in town before check-in. While the crowd (and it is ALWAYS crowded) makes service sub-par, the food is excellent. Try the pancakes, for sure. Country potatoes and omelettes are also delish.
Martini Beach - tapas. Overpriced. The food just doesn't cut it. I know tapas is trendy, but if you're going to do it, do it right. They do, however, offer a fantastic bar menu, and dining right on the beach (beach view from the table) is always fun.
The Ugly Mug - pub. Cheap. Good for a quick sunburn-recovery meal, like fajitas.
Jackson Mountain Cafe - pub. Cheap. Perfect for late-night snacks. Definitely get the roast beef au jus.
The Brown Room - bar @ Congress Hall. Probably the best bar in Cape May, even if it's crazy expensive. The live music and fancy drinks are totally worth it :)
I think that about sums it up. Hope this inspires you to head up to the Cape and try something new. More on where to stay some other time :) Happy eating!
Why I won't be an educator forever.
The disclaimer for this post is a stereotypical one about how wonderful it is to change young lives by exposing them to new thought patterns, by working for that moment when you can see the light bulb go off, etc. etc. etc. You can probably guess, so I won't write it out. But I will say that teaching is truly one of the most rewarding things you can do with your life, and I really don't know how I'll ever be anything else.
That being said, I know the day will come when I have to walk away from education. I started as an aide for the child care center that's attached to the school where I work. I quickly became a preschool teacher, and moved from there to running the Aftercare program. Finally, after graduating college, I started teaching foreign language to the elementary students. My position was changed yet again this year when an opening in the upper school (5th - 8th grades) was offered to me. I couldn't be happier teaching this age group. I've had this emptiness in my life since I left my old church where I spent a significant amount of time as a youth mentor/leader. I watched the lives of those kids change, and all the late-night sleepovers and convention trips and holding teenage girls while they cried their hearts out was worth it. I left that church, however, because as I got older I saw the truth in the direction they were headed, and decided to follow Christ instead. In the years after I struggled to find my place in ministry; people would ask all the cliche questions about where my life was headed, what were God's plans for me, etc. I always felt like there was some direction for me lying right around the corner, but could never say "Yeah. This _____________ is what's next." It became very clear to me at the beginning of the school year that this is what's next. That attending private school doesn't mean these kids are any less lost than the rest, any less hurting, any less starved for someone to simply understand them. Finally, that empty space once occupied by making a difference is filled.
While it's all fantastic, I have the gut-wrenching feeling that it's only temporary, and it saddens me deeply. I once was venting my frustrations to some coworkers about teaching 6th grade math. Despite all my best efforts - using the Smartboard, doing physical math, visual illustrations, practice tests, after-school tutoring - some of these students simply don't understand. A fellow teacher looked at me and said, "Sometimes, that's all you can do." For years I refused to accept this travesty - how nauseating to think that someone is "unteachable." I've always believed that everyone can reach any given plane of understanding - it's just finding the means to get there. My naivety has recently given way to reality, and while I retain a faint glimmer of hope that it can be done, I am fully aware that you can only do so much.
I don't mean academically. I mean socially and behaviorally. Middle schoolers might be the most impressionable organisms on the planet. And while we try and try and sacrifice all of our time and patience, it all comes down to reinforcement. If at any given school a student is exposed to loving relationships and is taught how to be kind, generous and humble, he or she will only retain that information if these ideas are reinforced at home. Ten years ago (and yes, I can speak from experience) the parents involved in their children's educations were supportive. They allowed their children to make mistakes, because that is, after all, how we learn best. If a teacher approached them about their child's misbehavior, we were assured that there would be appropriate consequences at home. Sadly, and to the disappointment of anyone who's concerned in any way about the future of our nation, those days are long gone. As we move into the era of entitlement, each generation becomes progressively more self-seeking. Parents now defend the behavior of their children, regardless of the severity. A child screaming at the top of his lungs during an educational presentation "just because he felt like it" is not to be considered "wrong" - it is merely him "expressing himself according to his cultural norms." Disrupting the class, then, is now the norm. Children who judge, boss, and bully others are excused as "emerging leaders." Parents will lie for their students to prevent the fitting consequences. Children who arbitrarily display physical violence toward others are always, always, ALWAYS "provoked." (Really?! Because I just saw your child walk across the room and twist that little boy's arm until he cried for no reason.) Per friends who work in local centers, correction is no longer an option; behavior (we can't call it "bad" anymore) that is disruptive or dangerous is now "redirected." (Look, I know you just punched that little girl in the face, but here are some Legos to distract you/reinforce your horrendous behavior with, since you love to play. Enjoy.)
WHAT is happening?! For one, parents don't trust educators anymore. I understand that none of us are perfect... but we get paid in beans, and it's one of the hardest jobs on earth. Do you really think any of us took this job just to make your student's life miserable? I can't tell you how many parents call and complain about their student's grades when CLEARLY, phone call after phone call, detention after detention, their student hasn't been performing at his or her best. Missing homework, goofing off in class, relying on parents to do their work and, in doing so, bombing in-class assessments - um, yeah. Your student's not gonna get an "A". But when it's a C or D (or worse) on the report card, somehow it's our fault. We "don't like" their student; we "never gave him/her a chance"; or, my personal favorite, "he/she just wasn't challenged enough in your class. He/she is bored." These are the times I'm sure I will be bald by 30 from pulling my own hair out.
But I digress. Back to behavioral issues. With most of America more sue-happy than ever, no administration in the country wants to say "no" to a parent. One wrong move and you're being subpoenaed. No one wants to accept that their child is wrong; and so, as educators, we take the fall. An unruly student screaming at the top of his lungs while I teach algebra? Deal with it. A child bossing others around and then experiencing loneliness? My problem. Students who are blatantly disrespectful to everyone they cross paths with? Shh, don't say anything to their parents. "Who cares that my child bit her classmate and drew blood? It must be your classroom management."
It couldn't possibly be that America's moral compass is disappearing entirely. It couldn't be related to the fact that we're raising the upcoming generation to believe that the government, or the rest of society, owes them their fortune. It couldn't be that kids watch us sit on our behinds and live off assistance while contributing nothing to our community.
Hm.
I just spent 6 days camping with some of my students in PA at an awesome outdoor education facility. I saw parent chaperones doing their student's work for them, texting in the middle of devotional time, making derogatory comments about other students, interrupting instructors in the middle of class to (erroneously) correct them in front of the kids, talking loudly with their students during instructional time, shouting/grabbing food/making demands instead of asking politely at the dinner table... I was hoping that Michael Douglas was hiding in the woodwork and waiting to come out to tell me I was being filmed for a movie with a similar concept to "The Game." It felt like an experiment gone horribly wrong. (And let me just note that I have the patience of a saint.) And therein lies the secret to you can only do so much - setting a decent example avails to nothing when what you're doing is completely undone at home.
And that, friends, is why I won't be retiring from a teaching job. Not just parents, but the general laziness/self-centeredness of the nation as a whole. The educational spectrum has moved from one extreme to the other without any middle ground. As soon as we stopped spanking children in school, we started serving them un-earned promotion on a silver platter. Yes, we need to let our kids know how wonderful they are. Of course we need to boost their self-esteem. But (and you can call me old-fashioned) I firmly believe that they need to be taught respect. They need to be exposed to their own weaknesses in order to turn them into strengths. I have so much more to say, but since I'm sure it would be just as unorganized as the rest of this post, I will simply leave you with what I consider the greatest criticism of modern education to date:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U
That being said, I know the day will come when I have to walk away from education. I started as an aide for the child care center that's attached to the school where I work. I quickly became a preschool teacher, and moved from there to running the Aftercare program. Finally, after graduating college, I started teaching foreign language to the elementary students. My position was changed yet again this year when an opening in the upper school (5th - 8th grades) was offered to me. I couldn't be happier teaching this age group. I've had this emptiness in my life since I left my old church where I spent a significant amount of time as a youth mentor/leader. I watched the lives of those kids change, and all the late-night sleepovers and convention trips and holding teenage girls while they cried their hearts out was worth it. I left that church, however, because as I got older I saw the truth in the direction they were headed, and decided to follow Christ instead. In the years after I struggled to find my place in ministry; people would ask all the cliche questions about where my life was headed, what were God's plans for me, etc. I always felt like there was some direction for me lying right around the corner, but could never say "Yeah. This _____________ is what's next." It became very clear to me at the beginning of the school year that this is what's next. That attending private school doesn't mean these kids are any less lost than the rest, any less hurting, any less starved for someone to simply understand them. Finally, that empty space once occupied by making a difference is filled.
While it's all fantastic, I have the gut-wrenching feeling that it's only temporary, and it saddens me deeply. I once was venting my frustrations to some coworkers about teaching 6th grade math. Despite all my best efforts - using the Smartboard, doing physical math, visual illustrations, practice tests, after-school tutoring - some of these students simply don't understand. A fellow teacher looked at me and said, "Sometimes, that's all you can do." For years I refused to accept this travesty - how nauseating to think that someone is "unteachable." I've always believed that everyone can reach any given plane of understanding - it's just finding the means to get there. My naivety has recently given way to reality, and while I retain a faint glimmer of hope that it can be done, I am fully aware that you can only do so much.
I don't mean academically. I mean socially and behaviorally. Middle schoolers might be the most impressionable organisms on the planet. And while we try and try and sacrifice all of our time and patience, it all comes down to reinforcement. If at any given school a student is exposed to loving relationships and is taught how to be kind, generous and humble, he or she will only retain that information if these ideas are reinforced at home. Ten years ago (and yes, I can speak from experience) the parents involved in their children's educations were supportive. They allowed their children to make mistakes, because that is, after all, how we learn best. If a teacher approached them about their child's misbehavior, we were assured that there would be appropriate consequences at home. Sadly, and to the disappointment of anyone who's concerned in any way about the future of our nation, those days are long gone. As we move into the era of entitlement, each generation becomes progressively more self-seeking. Parents now defend the behavior of their children, regardless of the severity. A child screaming at the top of his lungs during an educational presentation "just because he felt like it" is not to be considered "wrong" - it is merely him "expressing himself according to his cultural norms." Disrupting the class, then, is now the norm. Children who judge, boss, and bully others are excused as "emerging leaders." Parents will lie for their students to prevent the fitting consequences. Children who arbitrarily display physical violence toward others are always, always, ALWAYS "provoked." (Really?! Because I just saw your child walk across the room and twist that little boy's arm until he cried for no reason.) Per friends who work in local centers, correction is no longer an option; behavior (we can't call it "bad" anymore) that is disruptive or dangerous is now "redirected." (Look, I know you just punched that little girl in the face, but here are some Legos to distract you/reinforce your horrendous behavior with, since you love to play. Enjoy.)
WHAT is happening?! For one, parents don't trust educators anymore. I understand that none of us are perfect... but we get paid in beans, and it's one of the hardest jobs on earth. Do you really think any of us took this job just to make your student's life miserable? I can't tell you how many parents call and complain about their student's grades when CLEARLY, phone call after phone call, detention after detention, their student hasn't been performing at his or her best. Missing homework, goofing off in class, relying on parents to do their work and, in doing so, bombing in-class assessments - um, yeah. Your student's not gonna get an "A". But when it's a C or D (or worse) on the report card, somehow it's our fault. We "don't like" their student; we "never gave him/her a chance"; or, my personal favorite, "he/she just wasn't challenged enough in your class. He/she is bored." These are the times I'm sure I will be bald by 30 from pulling my own hair out.
But I digress. Back to behavioral issues. With most of America more sue-happy than ever, no administration in the country wants to say "no" to a parent. One wrong move and you're being subpoenaed. No one wants to accept that their child is wrong; and so, as educators, we take the fall. An unruly student screaming at the top of his lungs while I teach algebra? Deal with it. A child bossing others around and then experiencing loneliness? My problem. Students who are blatantly disrespectful to everyone they cross paths with? Shh, don't say anything to their parents. "Who cares that my child bit her classmate and drew blood? It must be your classroom management."
It couldn't possibly be that America's moral compass is disappearing entirely. It couldn't be related to the fact that we're raising the upcoming generation to believe that the government, or the rest of society, owes them their fortune. It couldn't be that kids watch us sit on our behinds and live off assistance while contributing nothing to our community.
Hm.
I just spent 6 days camping with some of my students in PA at an awesome outdoor education facility. I saw parent chaperones doing their student's work for them, texting in the middle of devotional time, making derogatory comments about other students, interrupting instructors in the middle of class to (erroneously) correct them in front of the kids, talking loudly with their students during instructional time, shouting/grabbing food/making demands instead of asking politely at the dinner table... I was hoping that Michael Douglas was hiding in the woodwork and waiting to come out to tell me I was being filmed for a movie with a similar concept to "The Game." It felt like an experiment gone horribly wrong. (And let me just note that I have the patience of a saint.) And therein lies the secret to you can only do so much - setting a decent example avails to nothing when what you're doing is completely undone at home.
And that, friends, is why I won't be retiring from a teaching job. Not just parents, but the general laziness/self-centeredness of the nation as a whole. The educational spectrum has moved from one extreme to the other without any middle ground. As soon as we stopped spanking children in school, we started serving them un-earned promotion on a silver platter. Yes, we need to let our kids know how wonderful they are. Of course we need to boost their self-esteem. But (and you can call me old-fashioned) I firmly believe that they need to be taught respect. They need to be exposed to their own weaknesses in order to turn them into strengths. I have so much more to say, but since I'm sure it would be just as unorganized as the rest of this post, I will simply leave you with what I consider the greatest criticism of modern education to date:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDZFcDGpL4U
Monday, April 25, 2011
On Attachment and Impermanence
I promise this isn’t a plug for a book… BUT: If you haven’t read Dog Years (Mark Doty), you’re seriously missing out.
I was traipsing around a cute little used bookshop on the bay and came across his famous memoir. There was literally almost no one else in the shop, but I grabbed it and clung to it as though it was the last copy anywhere in the world. I finished it the next day (naturally; after all, it is Doty), and was grateful to have found one more soul in the universe who feels the way I do regarding just about everything. Ever.
Why is it that we shouldn't be too attached?
I wouldn’t call myself an overly emotional person, nor would I ever consider myself clingy. But when Princess, our 14-year-old collie mix who had been my best friend since birth, who had lost her front left leg to cancer, who had been banished to the basement when the great grandmother with allergies had moved in, who had survived litter after litter, move after move, needle after surgery after treatment after old age – died, I honestly felt like I wanted to leave the earth. (I was 10). What HELL to lose the one you love most, even if it makes sense for them to go. And I know most kids go through this with pets, this devastation at a loss – but eventually grow out of it. As we age we learn to regard death/loss (of pets, of people, of self) as just “part of the circle” of things.
Not me.
A couple years ago I went through a very dark time in life. Out of seemingly nowhere (other than some dark, looming vortex over my head, following me around like a bad comic strip), I began to dwell on the idea of death. Not in any way did I ponder the pain one may encounter in dying, or contemplate the fear of that crossing-over that no one can possibly ever know the real nature of until it’s their turn. It was simply a deep pit that began to form inside me, a great emptiness and sorrow originating from that primal acknowledgement of the impermanence of things. At some point I looked around, thought – wow, I’m in love with all of this, and these people, and these feelings – and felt queasy knowing that one day all of it would fade.
There are various forms of this acknowledgement. Impermanence is one of, if not the most important foundation of many Eastern religions. Bumper stickers encourage us to carpe diem. Famous musical artists compose songs about the circle of life. A close friend of mine, as we dished over coffee, watched me break down a little as I was just coming out of this murky shadow that had plagued me for months. Now, while the general depression I was in stemmed from existential questions that covered everything, the object of my despair became my grandmother. In her early seventies but healthy, I suddenly (and irrationally) felt I was losing her more quickly than the way I’m losing, say, Tad. My friend calmly reminded me that each fleeting moment is always right behind us, and never in our possession, because we live HERE and NOW. Attachment to earth, to things, to people – it’s all in vain, and to some degree, pointless, since we won’t have it forever. I appreciated her words and was consoled, if only for a moment; but try as I might, I could not remain on that side of things, and don’t know that I ever will.
Doty and I share this feeling. In one striking scene, Doty is walking his aging dog, and happens upon an elderly woman who comments on the dog’s age. She makes a pleasant remark in passing about how “lovely” it is that we’re here for a time, part of the cycle, and then we go. Doty explains it thus: “She wanted to assert that in the great current of being, the particularly elderly struggling creature in front of her didn’t really matter, that his particular condition was not tragic, because he was just a flash in the great motion of the whole. To which I wanted to say, though I did not, **** you” (13).
Why do we consider grief a failure? Don’t misread me – I’m not talking about those unfortunate few who become so overcome with anguish at a loss that they ignore everything else that’s important in life, and can never re-assimilate. I’m talking about the way we ignore our own mortality. The way we hide old people away in separate communities so as not to face the fact that yes, life does come to an end, but not before we lose our strength, beauty, and minds. I’m talking about the church ladies with their “It’s for the best. He’s in a better place.” While that’s probably true, it minimizes the real – the emptiness where someone once was. I, like Doty, feel that that the grief we carry does not accomplish an erasure of this existence, but offers us evidence and testimony that this exact space was not always empty, but was once filled with so-and-so. It offers a presence somehow.
For some, accepting the impermanence of this life is just what it is – acceptance, and true acceptance at that. But for most of us, it’s a over-romanticizing of sorts: “The oversweetened surface of the sentimental exists in order to protect its maker, as well as the audience, from anger … Sentimental images of children and of animals, sappy representations of love – they are fueled, in truth, by their opposites, by a terrible human rage that nothing stays.” Try as we might to be ok with death, even from a Christian perspective, the fact remains that we’re here, we’re mortal, and we feel pain and emptiness when we lose someone. Even the loss of self upon entering into the symbolic order as a child is tragic, and we can feel it here and there, when trying to explain a feeling and finding that words are hopelessly inadequate. Then again, do we really want that privilege? To retain the self to that degree, that it can join us in this arbitrary system of signs? “Maybe we should be glad, finally, that the word can’t go where the heart can, not completely. It’s freeing, to think there’s always an aspect of us outside the grasp of speech, the common stuff of language. Love is common, too, absolutely so – and yet our words for it only point to it; they do not describe it. They are indicators of something immense” (48). If, in all of our science and promise and endeavor, we could somehow communicate, express, or even accept the business of the heart, would we be left with anything? Isn’t that, after all, what makes it the heart? Its uncommunicativeness? Its impossible-to-understand-ness?
I’ve rambled incoherently and I apologize. I guess what I’m trying to say is that, to me, grief is not failure. And neither is the mourning long before the loss. Is it so bad, to feel the highs and lows, and take them as they come? How else will you recognize those brief, glimmering highs? I will, then, continue to remember that yes, things are impermanent, but nonetheless HERE. The very idea that one day these damp, green trees, sweet with Spring, will die – as will these deep memories, this brass laughter ringing its wild echo in the hall – makes me wither with sorrow. But I will not hide from it behind philosophy or sentiment; I will meet it with grace, and use it to cherish the now more than ever. I will continue to be attached, to reject the seeming perfection of the “circle.” Love, after all, isn't love without that proper ache that leaves you without a heartbeat now and then.
Monday, April 11, 2011
An evening in the District (and why you should go there, too).
I'll try to be brief and save my words for descriptions... but Tad and I went down yesterday to celebrate his birthday. Here's what we ended up with - I couldn't have been happier.
Although the metro is SO great for D.C., The Four Seasons has valet for $10 when validated by the restaurant, so we decided to drive. Destination: Bourbon Steak. http://www.bourbonsteakdc.com/ @ the Four Seasons. I'm a research junkie when it comes to dining and travel, and among all the outstanding choices in D.C., this one stood out significantly. Needless to say I was expecting the best.
First impressions: The decor was mod without being overly contemporary; clean lines, Ethan Allen-esque chairs at tables that have a leather-like surface (tres cool), dimly lit - by no means your Grandfather's steakhouse. It was extremely classy without being fussy; the atmosphere couldn't have been more perfect. Music in the background but soft enough to talk and to hear the general hum of the other tables (love that noise). The open kitchen was a cool feature.
Although we ran 35 mins. late, we were immediately seated at a table that had both a chair and a corner booth, so we could opt for a romantic seating if we wanted (and totally did). I had told them ahead of time when my reservation was confirmed that we'd be celebrating Tad's birthday; he enjoyed the birthday card on the table from the chef. :) Nice touch. One thing I'd give this place SIX out of five stars in is service - every single person we spoke with was friendly, professional, and accommodating. The waiter continually gave us great feedback on the wine selection, dishes, everything - he was patient and very pleasant.
We started with some wine (great selection). Tad got an Argentine Malbec, while I opted for the Atteca Garnacha ( a first for me). TRULY delicious - perfect to start - blackberry-cherry-ish flavors with an espresso finish. Very open and light without being sweet. I fell in love. The selection of appetizers here was great, but surprisingly no crab, so we decided to just skip to ordering dinner. Imagine our surprise when we received two starters - the first, a trio of duck fat fries, including dill fries with pickled ketchup, old bay fries with something creamy?, and parmesan-truffle fries with a bbq sauce. Very tasty and so uniquely presented! Loved it. Then came a piping-hot serving of four salted sourdough rolls fresh from the pan. Different than anything I'd ever tasted, as far as bread goes, but certainly interesting. We were content thus far, and our glasses never stayed empty for a moment.
Tad ordered a NY strip; I got the filet, of course. The outside was seared just right, the steak was juicy, and the flavor was fantastic. Tad loved his as well. The only thing I nitpicked over was the fattiness - most filets are impeccably trimmed, but this one had a little fat, perhaps due to the fact that it was a larger-than-normal filet. In any case, we were very pleased. As for the sides, I was blown away. Tad got a Wagyu fried rice (creative, spicy, full of flavor!) and I got the Yukon Gold puree. I'm a russet girl myself, but it was SO creamy I felt like I was on a farm. A touch of hot gravy in the center sealed the deal. I could've eaten seven helpings.
Bourbon is definitely the kind of place where you can take your time... and we did. Two hours into the meal and we had just ordered dessert. Well, I ordered dessert; Tad got a complementary super-moist cake with layers of je ne sais quoi in between and a hazelnut/chocolate ice cream with fresh cocoa. YESSSSS. I got a passion fruit panna cotta served with coconut sorbet and fresh grapefruit, avocado, and pineapple. I'm a huge chocolate fan, but this was just right - citrusy, light, fruity, sweet, satisfying.
Their cocktail selection was wonderful - they had so many unique offerings I was a little intimidated by the menu! Saving my tolerance for the after-dinner surprise, Tad ordered the Monkey Gland: "...named after a surgical procedure that was intended to produce longevity. the cocktail was created in the 20's by harry macelhone, owner of harry's new york bar in paris - plymouth, kubler absinthe, fresh orange, grenadine - shaken and served up with a burnt orange peel."
Tad loved it. And, for a birthday splurge, we checked out the cigar menu (yes, Bourbon has their own cigar line) and chose a maduro torpedo. At 30 bucks a pop, it better be one of the best maduros he's ever had - he's saving it for his next birthday. :)
All in all, everything was perfect. I seriously can't find a flaw. We had seven different people at our table throughout the evening - from our incredible waiter to multiple people cleaning/clearing the table to those bringing food to the manager checking up on our evening, Bourbon went the extra mile to make sure we were impressed.
Ok, now the best part.
Since the valet at the Four Seasons runs 24/7, we took a taxi over to The Passenger - a bar that's a bit of a dive, but it was cute and comfy. Very casual Manhattan, and dozens of microbrews. I wish I could remember what Tad ordered - some kind of ale that I LOVED!!!! And I ordered a Naked Fish - a delicious chocolate-raspberry stout from Du Claw. Anyway... we enjoyed our drinks while waiting for our reservation time. This place has to be booked several weeks in advance, and your reservation must be held with a credit card (25 dollar fee per seat if you don't cancel within 48 hours of a no-show). It's called the Columbia Room, and it's been featured in Esquire, GQ... it's famous for just about everything it has to offer, including a renowned mixologist who frequently bartends. The room is hidden away in the back of the Passenger - so hidden, in fact, that you forget you're in another bar when you're inside the Columbia Room.
First, you're taken to a dimly-lit study, complete with an antique telephone, old record-keeping book, mahogany desk, and framed prohibition-era documents. (The bathroom and coat rack are located here as well; and forget paper towels - there are individual washcloths for each guest, rolled up in a wicker basket. Darling.) After giving our names, we were taken into the actual lounge - a long and somewhat narrow room with a bar unlike anything I've ever seen. Tall, velvet chairs lined the back wall for guests who had to wait past their reservation time (with ornate wooden tables in between where drinks could be placed). At the bar itself were seated ten tall chairs. Each place setting had a stone-like plate with a wooden trivet in the center. All along the walls, in between some very cool exposed brick, were shelves with farm-jars and steel tags containing everything under the sun. From dried dandelion to cinnamon sticks, they had it all, and none of it was anything I'd ever seen in a cocktail before. I felt like I was at an apothecary. The staff, who looked like they had arrived from a 1930's cocktail party (no uniform, just classy clothes, vests for the guys, etc.), were very friendly and welcoming. We were instantly given cold water poured from a copper pitcher (look, I know I'm being too detailed, but it's the details that matter to me) and scented hot towels were placed on our plates. I buried my hands and was transported to somewhere were pampering is taken to a whole new level. If you could combine a swanky, antique bar with a world-class spa, this would be it. The Columbia room offers a tasting menu; 68/pp for 3 cocktails each and a small plate. They also let you choose a la carte, which I did when I made reservations. I soon realized, however, since the bartender gave us a first drink without asking, that they hadn't received my request for a la carte. No worries, says the guy. This one's on the house, then. Here's where it gets crazy:
I was fascinated at once with the painstaking exactness with which each bartender executed a drink. I was also intrigued by the giant block of ice on the center of the bar, placed in a vintage wooden barrel top; no ice cubes here, apparently. The perfect amount of ice is chipped off by each bartender for whatever its destination. The first drink, served in antique punch glasses, was what they called their "house punch" for the week. I wish I could remember all that went into it - in fact, being so close to the bartenders, watching it being made (it took a good 10 minutes) was satisfying in and of itself. The various ingredients and intriguing bottles of liquor are all right there, too, for you to see, inspect, inquire about... and generally marvel at. All I remember is that some kind of scotch was involved, as well as a frothy layer of something lemony on top. I watched him measure, pour, measure, pour, repeat.... shake... pour into the glasses, finally; then whip the frothy lemon topping right in front of us and spooned it onto the top of each drink with the care of a surgeon. Each drink was then garnished with a tiny pink flower, first picked out of a bowl of about a thousand, then plucked from the stem, fluffed, and placed meticulously on the foam.
WOW. I love me some whiskey, but I'm partial to Irish whiskeys, and had never really tasted much scotch. It was so well-balanced and unique I could've had several more, but wanted to dive into all the other cool options. Meanwhile, my favorite tracks were playing softly in the background, candles were flickering, and just about everyone in the room was cooing over the whole experience. While I nursed the punch, Tad moved onto to an absinthe frappe - that's right, folks. Essentially an absinthe slushy, served in a really cool metal cup with a metal straw/spoon thing. So weird - and SO cool. I hate absinthe, but the mere fact that this place not only carried it - but carried THREE different kinds from different regions (Switzerland, CA, and somewhere I can't remember right now) - was extremely impressive. Tad raved over it, and quickly discovered he'd need to take his time. :) We asked a lot of questions, and the main bartender was super friendly and willing to give into our curiosities. There's no cocktail menu - in fact, most of your "standard" mixed drinks aren't ever made here. Key Lime Pie martini? Forget it. Go to Canton or P.F. Chang's. This placed proudly serves the finest cocktails with recipes dating from the pre-prohibition era. If you're requesting a drink, you basically tell the bartender what direction to go in, and he or she will provide you with exactly what you didn't even know you wanted. I asked for something fruity, but not sweet, that included lemon. She gave me the pre-prohibition version of a Pink Lady - a to-die-for mix of gin (Plymouth, of course - outrageously expensive stuff), apple brandy, lemon juice, a splash of grenadine for a hint of sweetness and that blush color it's famous for, and egg white for a creamy, foamy top. Loved it. Tad joked that, although he found it excellent, he'd have a hard time ordering such a girly-named drink, so he decided upon sliding a note to the bartender robbery-style should he ever need to request one. :)
My favorite drink of the night, however, was just about as classic as you can get: a dry martini. I love dry martinis, particularly when they're served with olives (we were given almonds and some kind of blue olive that I'd drive back down to D.C. for). She asked Tad what was next, and he said dealer's choice - the initial idea didn't appeal to him (meanwhile, I'm thinking YES! dry martini!), but she mentioned that GQ called their dry martini the "best in the world." It's kind of a big deal. And she was serious, too. The gin (or was it the vermouth?) was chilled to 31 degrees exactly before being served. The vermouth was perfectly dry. Shaken, poured, and garnished with, get this: the oils from a lemon peel. We watched her carefully and patiently allow the aromatic lemon oil to make its way off of the squeezed rind onto the very top of the drink where, as she showed us under the light, it sat perfectly and sparkled, giving off its barely-there but noticeable presence. In addition to the ice-cold and perfectly mixed concoction, the thing that made this one better than any other dry martini in the world, so to speak, was the orange bitters. It was just a dash, and while you're drinking it you're thinking... something makes this work like never before, but what?!? Orange bitters. That's what.
Again, we were able to take our time and delight in the unique deliciousness. When we told her we were ready for our check, she simply said, "JP will take care of you in the study", whereupon were were escorted back to the study for our coats, and JP, sitting at the record book, took me back to 1920 with a hand-written receipt, tip included. We walked out into what would've otherwise been a chilly night, but the glow of endless conversation, the satisfaction of having experienced so many new flavors, and the warm edge from such sophisticated spirits made it quite comfy.
I seriously can't recommend either place enough.
http://www.passengerdc.com/columbia/index.cfm - offical site
http://www.welovedc.com/2010/06/03/we-love-drinks-columbia-room/ - article I just found while searching for images. This guy had a lot of similar things to say, right down to the spa feel. :)
Although the metro is SO great for D.C., The Four Seasons has valet for $10 when validated by the restaurant, so we decided to drive. Destination: Bourbon Steak. http://www.bourbonsteakdc.com/ @ the Four Seasons. I'm a research junkie when it comes to dining and travel, and among all the outstanding choices in D.C., this one stood out significantly. Needless to say I was expecting the best.
First impressions: The decor was mod without being overly contemporary; clean lines, Ethan Allen-esque chairs at tables that have a leather-like surface (tres cool), dimly lit - by no means your Grandfather's steakhouse. It was extremely classy without being fussy; the atmosphere couldn't have been more perfect. Music in the background but soft enough to talk and to hear the general hum of the other tables (love that noise). The open kitchen was a cool feature.
Although we ran 35 mins. late, we were immediately seated at a table that had both a chair and a corner booth, so we could opt for a romantic seating if we wanted (and totally did). I had told them ahead of time when my reservation was confirmed that we'd be celebrating Tad's birthday; he enjoyed the birthday card on the table from the chef. :) Nice touch. One thing I'd give this place SIX out of five stars in is service - every single person we spoke with was friendly, professional, and accommodating. The waiter continually gave us great feedback on the wine selection, dishes, everything - he was patient and very pleasant.
We started with some wine (great selection). Tad got an Argentine Malbec, while I opted for the Atteca Garnacha ( a first for me). TRULY delicious - perfect to start - blackberry-cherry-ish flavors with an espresso finish. Very open and light without being sweet. I fell in love. The selection of appetizers here was great, but surprisingly no crab, so we decided to just skip to ordering dinner. Imagine our surprise when we received two starters - the first, a trio of duck fat fries, including dill fries with pickled ketchup, old bay fries with something creamy?, and parmesan-truffle fries with a bbq sauce. Very tasty and so uniquely presented! Loved it. Then came a piping-hot serving of four salted sourdough rolls fresh from the pan. Different than anything I'd ever tasted, as far as bread goes, but certainly interesting. We were content thus far, and our glasses never stayed empty for a moment.
Tad ordered a NY strip; I got the filet, of course. The outside was seared just right, the steak was juicy, and the flavor was fantastic. Tad loved his as well. The only thing I nitpicked over was the fattiness - most filets are impeccably trimmed, but this one had a little fat, perhaps due to the fact that it was a larger-than-normal filet. In any case, we were very pleased. As for the sides, I was blown away. Tad got a Wagyu fried rice (creative, spicy, full of flavor!) and I got the Yukon Gold puree. I'm a russet girl myself, but it was SO creamy I felt like I was on a farm. A touch of hot gravy in the center sealed the deal. I could've eaten seven helpings.
Bourbon is definitely the kind of place where you can take your time... and we did. Two hours into the meal and we had just ordered dessert. Well, I ordered dessert; Tad got a complementary super-moist cake with layers of je ne sais quoi in between and a hazelnut/chocolate ice cream with fresh cocoa. YESSSSS. I got a passion fruit panna cotta served with coconut sorbet and fresh grapefruit, avocado, and pineapple. I'm a huge chocolate fan, but this was just right - citrusy, light, fruity, sweet, satisfying.
Their cocktail selection was wonderful - they had so many unique offerings I was a little intimidated by the menu! Saving my tolerance for the after-dinner surprise, Tad ordered the Monkey Gland: "...named after a surgical procedure that was intended to produce longevity. the cocktail was created in the 20's by harry macelhone, owner of harry's new york bar in paris - plymouth, kubler absinthe, fresh orange, grenadine - shaken and served up with a burnt orange peel."
Tad loved it. And, for a birthday splurge, we checked out the cigar menu (yes, Bourbon has their own cigar line) and chose a maduro torpedo. At 30 bucks a pop, it better be one of the best maduros he's ever had - he's saving it for his next birthday. :)
All in all, everything was perfect. I seriously can't find a flaw. We had seven different people at our table throughout the evening - from our incredible waiter to multiple people cleaning/clearing the table to those bringing food to the manager checking up on our evening, Bourbon went the extra mile to make sure we were impressed.
Ok, now the best part.
Since the valet at the Four Seasons runs 24/7, we took a taxi over to The Passenger - a bar that's a bit of a dive, but it was cute and comfy. Very casual Manhattan, and dozens of microbrews. I wish I could remember what Tad ordered - some kind of ale that I LOVED!!!! And I ordered a Naked Fish - a delicious chocolate-raspberry stout from Du Claw. Anyway... we enjoyed our drinks while waiting for our reservation time. This place has to be booked several weeks in advance, and your reservation must be held with a credit card (25 dollar fee per seat if you don't cancel within 48 hours of a no-show). It's called the Columbia Room, and it's been featured in Esquire, GQ... it's famous for just about everything it has to offer, including a renowned mixologist who frequently bartends. The room is hidden away in the back of the Passenger - so hidden, in fact, that you forget you're in another bar when you're inside the Columbia Room.
First, you're taken to a dimly-lit study, complete with an antique telephone, old record-keeping book, mahogany desk, and framed prohibition-era documents. (The bathroom and coat rack are located here as well; and forget paper towels - there are individual washcloths for each guest, rolled up in a wicker basket. Darling.) After giving our names, we were taken into the actual lounge - a long and somewhat narrow room with a bar unlike anything I've ever seen. Tall, velvet chairs lined the back wall for guests who had to wait past their reservation time (with ornate wooden tables in between where drinks could be placed). At the bar itself were seated ten tall chairs. Each place setting had a stone-like plate with a wooden trivet in the center. All along the walls, in between some very cool exposed brick, were shelves with farm-jars and steel tags containing everything under the sun. From dried dandelion to cinnamon sticks, they had it all, and none of it was anything I'd ever seen in a cocktail before. I felt like I was at an apothecary. The staff, who looked like they had arrived from a 1930's cocktail party (no uniform, just classy clothes, vests for the guys, etc.), were very friendly and welcoming. We were instantly given cold water poured from a copper pitcher (look, I know I'm being too detailed, but it's the details that matter to me) and scented hot towels were placed on our plates. I buried my hands and was transported to somewhere were pampering is taken to a whole new level. If you could combine a swanky, antique bar with a world-class spa, this would be it. The Columbia room offers a tasting menu; 68/pp for 3 cocktails each and a small plate. They also let you choose a la carte, which I did when I made reservations. I soon realized, however, since the bartender gave us a first drink without asking, that they hadn't received my request for a la carte. No worries, says the guy. This one's on the house, then. Here's where it gets crazy:
I was fascinated at once with the painstaking exactness with which each bartender executed a drink. I was also intrigued by the giant block of ice on the center of the bar, placed in a vintage wooden barrel top; no ice cubes here, apparently. The perfect amount of ice is chipped off by each bartender for whatever its destination. The first drink, served in antique punch glasses, was what they called their "house punch" for the week. I wish I could remember all that went into it - in fact, being so close to the bartenders, watching it being made (it took a good 10 minutes) was satisfying in and of itself. The various ingredients and intriguing bottles of liquor are all right there, too, for you to see, inspect, inquire about... and generally marvel at. All I remember is that some kind of scotch was involved, as well as a frothy layer of something lemony on top. I watched him measure, pour, measure, pour, repeat.... shake... pour into the glasses, finally; then whip the frothy lemon topping right in front of us and spooned it onto the top of each drink with the care of a surgeon. Each drink was then garnished with a tiny pink flower, first picked out of a bowl of about a thousand, then plucked from the stem, fluffed, and placed meticulously on the foam.
WOW. I love me some whiskey, but I'm partial to Irish whiskeys, and had never really tasted much scotch. It was so well-balanced and unique I could've had several more, but wanted to dive into all the other cool options. Meanwhile, my favorite tracks were playing softly in the background, candles were flickering, and just about everyone in the room was cooing over the whole experience. While I nursed the punch, Tad moved onto to an absinthe frappe - that's right, folks. Essentially an absinthe slushy, served in a really cool metal cup with a metal straw/spoon thing. So weird - and SO cool. I hate absinthe, but the mere fact that this place not only carried it - but carried THREE different kinds from different regions (Switzerland, CA, and somewhere I can't remember right now) - was extremely impressive. Tad raved over it, and quickly discovered he'd need to take his time. :) We asked a lot of questions, and the main bartender was super friendly and willing to give into our curiosities. There's no cocktail menu - in fact, most of your "standard" mixed drinks aren't ever made here. Key Lime Pie martini? Forget it. Go to Canton or P.F. Chang's. This placed proudly serves the finest cocktails with recipes dating from the pre-prohibition era. If you're requesting a drink, you basically tell the bartender what direction to go in, and he or she will provide you with exactly what you didn't even know you wanted. I asked for something fruity, but not sweet, that included lemon. She gave me the pre-prohibition version of a Pink Lady - a to-die-for mix of gin (Plymouth, of course - outrageously expensive stuff), apple brandy, lemon juice, a splash of grenadine for a hint of sweetness and that blush color it's famous for, and egg white for a creamy, foamy top. Loved it. Tad joked that, although he found it excellent, he'd have a hard time ordering such a girly-named drink, so he decided upon sliding a note to the bartender robbery-style should he ever need to request one. :)
My favorite drink of the night, however, was just about as classic as you can get: a dry martini. I love dry martinis, particularly when they're served with olives (we were given almonds and some kind of blue olive that I'd drive back down to D.C. for). She asked Tad what was next, and he said dealer's choice - the initial idea didn't appeal to him (meanwhile, I'm thinking YES! dry martini!), but she mentioned that GQ called their dry martini the "best in the world." It's kind of a big deal. And she was serious, too. The gin (or was it the vermouth?) was chilled to 31 degrees exactly before being served. The vermouth was perfectly dry. Shaken, poured, and garnished with, get this: the oils from a lemon peel. We watched her carefully and patiently allow the aromatic lemon oil to make its way off of the squeezed rind onto the very top of the drink where, as she showed us under the light, it sat perfectly and sparkled, giving off its barely-there but noticeable presence. In addition to the ice-cold and perfectly mixed concoction, the thing that made this one better than any other dry martini in the world, so to speak, was the orange bitters. It was just a dash, and while you're drinking it you're thinking... something makes this work like never before, but what?!? Orange bitters. That's what.
Again, we were able to take our time and delight in the unique deliciousness. When we told her we were ready for our check, she simply said, "JP will take care of you in the study", whereupon were were escorted back to the study for our coats, and JP, sitting at the record book, took me back to 1920 with a hand-written receipt, tip included. We walked out into what would've otherwise been a chilly night, but the glow of endless conversation, the satisfaction of having experienced so many new flavors, and the warm edge from such sophisticated spirits made it quite comfy.
I seriously can't recommend either place enough.
http://www.passengerdc.com/columbia/index.cfm - offical site
http://www.welovedc.com/2010/06/03/we-love-drinks-columbia-room/ - article I just found while searching for images. This guy had a lot of similar things to say, right down to the spa feel. :)
Friday, January 21, 2011
Girlfriends.
Why are girlfriends so great? Seriously, my girlfriends are the best. I know it’s cliché but girl time is the greatest thing ever.
I’ve been really blessed for the past year being able to hang out with some awesome chics who I absolutely adore. It has occurred to me that there’s literally nothing we could do together that wouldn’t be a total blast. Example: I’m an ex-karaoke-hater. I’ve been dragged to karaoke for years by various people, always happy to oblige because I’m cool with hanging out wherever. But these girls made it so fun I actually started to enjoy it. (Shhh, don’t tell anyone.) I love singing with them. I love dancing with them. I love acting like a crazy person and cheating on my diet with them. I’m not ashamed to admit it – I have a girl crush. Well, several, actually. I have the most amazing friends ever.
But why is it SO great? Why is “girl time” so invaluable? Sure, I’ve had relationships in which I was comfortable telling the person everything. I’ve dated my “best friend.” Even so, nothing can replace going out with the girls. What is it that makes me feel that “ohmygoshthisisthebesttimeeverrr” moment every time we get together?
Well, for starters, because women show their emotions. Regardless of whether they’re justified, a woman’s feelings are sacred. Sharing them is like bearing your soul, no matter how small the emotion. It feels good to exhibit that dramatic side when I need to, or that over-reactive side, or that side that needs more attention than one person should have once in a while. And then we all join in and it feels totally normal. And I love it. I can cry as much as I need to (even when I’m not PMS-ing), and let me tell you, there’s nothing in this world like a long hug from your bestie. Because she inevitably smells good.
Because we gather self-esteem in the same way. Granted, we have varying degrees of self-esteem needs, but put us all in heels and a mini skirt on a good hair day and I guarantee you we’ll all reap the confidence booster the same. Interestingly enough though, I find that my self-confidence is more cultivated by my girls than by my own boyfriend. My ladies make me feel like a diva, even when my mascara’s running.
Because we all have some element of superficiality – and that’s okay. ‘Cause we’re women. And we can rein each other in when it’s necessary and say, “Hey, you’re being a *&%#@. Shut it down.”
Because we like to share. How many guys go to the bathroom and borrow the crucial toiletries from each other last-minute at the club? How many guys say, yeah dude, you can wear those pants? Seriously. What good is carrying black eyeliner if your girlfriend doesn’t need any Thursday night?
Because we know how to keep secrets (well, some of us do). There’s no middle ground here. There’s no better way to measure friendship than one’s ability to lock something in the vault. I’ve been friends with plenty of girls who like to start drama, who enjoy sharing private information just for fun. And then I’ve had friends who I’d trust with my deepest and darkest. I can do anything, say anything, be anyone – and if those things are between just us girls, then so be it. It’s in the vault and there’s nothing else to be said (except, “Girl, of course. You know I’ll take it to the grave”).
Because it’s okay to be late when we’re getting together.
Because when we get together we suddenly feel like the sexiest women on the planet, even in sweats and a bad haircut.
Because a glass of wine with girlfriends goes a long way.
Because 4 a.m. isn’t too late to get home when you’re making sure your girls are home safely.
Because a girlfriend will hold your hand when you’re tipsy and you wore your platforms.
Because a true girlfriend will tell you, “Yes, that outfit is hideous. I can see your belly-roll. Wear this instead.”
Because blaring Mariah from the early 90s on the way downtown turns in to an in-car concert. Every time.
And because, most of all, we share a common and unbreakable bond – the little things make us happy. A compliment from the bartender, a kiss on the cheek, extra olives in a martini, a card in the mail, a flower on a desk, a dinner made, a sweet text, a great facebook picture, a good shave, a short period, a perfectly-baked cookie, the laugh of a toddler, the sprout of a plant in a first-time garden – it doesn’t take much. And we can go on about it forever. <3
To my girls: I love you. I can’t live without you. You are my family and more and I’m so lucky to have you in my lives. Don’t ever change – you’re all perfect, you’re all my favorite, and you’re the best besties a girl could have.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Speaking of crab...
Some co-workers and I were discussing crabcakes the other day. And when I crave beer, it's inevitable that the craving for crabcakes comes along. I could go for one right now. So... What's the best crabcake you've ever had?
I actually had to name three. No, it wasn't Box Hill - I've had theirs once and it was pretty good. I wouldn't turn it down, anyway. I've also never had Phillip's (I've heard theirs is great), but I'm very curious to check it out. I'm not gonna lie, I'm a bit of a crabcake snob, so here's my take.
Top 3 Crabcakes:
#3 - Catches, Middle River.
No, I didn't mistype. It's that restaurant on 40, with the big bar and giant projector screen hovering over a karaoke stage. It was my first time there, and my friend had ordered a salad with medium-rare tuna. When it came out it smelled so bad I felt naseous. I almost immediately wrote the place off, but when my crabcake came out, I figured I'd give 'em one last chance. It was excellent. I'm not a big fan of any kind of filler, and thankfully theirs was minimal. Even so, it actually added to the dish - I feel like most fillers take away from crab taste, but this one was perfectly complementary. Almost like a light imperial sauce or something. Whatever it was, I said bravo. I finished the whole gargantuan cake - and left wanting more. Best crabcake I've had in Maryland, hands down.
#2 - Del Frisco's, Manhattan.
Del Frisco's is good at a lot of things. Making you feel like a high-end food critic is one of them, if for no other reason that the fact that everything they serve is outsanding. The quality of the steak is a dream. But what better way to start an amazing steak dinner than with a little "surf"? I'd like to know how it's possible to serve a cake with lumps that size without it falling apart on the plate. Seriously, they were huge - and impeccably juicy. There was LITERALLY not a trace of filler or egg white or any of the above. I marveled at the sheer construction. Needless to say, with minimal extras, this cake was extremely impressive. They do serve the cake with a cajun lobster sauce on the side, which was also excellent, although it had a bit too much of a bite for my taste. Either way, delicious. Aaaand... drumroll, please?...
#1 - The Washington Inn, Cape May.
Although the lumps aren't as big as Del Frisco's, they're a decent size - but what makes this cake stand out above the rest is the prep. Like I've already said, I don't love a bunch of extras. But these guys take it to a whole new level. The (extremely light) breading cooks into a crisp, outer layer that seals in every tiny morsel of flavor. The crab is just barely seasoned, allowing the choicest bites to shout, "CRAB!" The key, however, is in the roasted red peppers. Even more than Old Bay or Malt Vinegar, roasted red peppers pair with crabmeat like Will Smith and Jada. It's like the gold medal of the flavor olympics. Not only are there a few right inside the cake, but they serve it with a roasted red pepper cream sauce that I could bathe in (as long as I could simultaneously eat it). I've said too much - if I didn't have to work tomorrow I would literally drive to Jersey right now.
I've started to use red bell peppers in my homemade cakes, too - haven't mastered the sauce yet, but the cakes themselves are fabulous with the diced peppers. I've also found that the Culinary Reserve brand (Super Lump) is worth the 20 bucks a can - it's huge, it's juicy, and I couldn't find a shell in there if I tried.
*sigh* I realllly want a crabcake now...
I actually had to name three. No, it wasn't Box Hill - I've had theirs once and it was pretty good. I wouldn't turn it down, anyway. I've also never had Phillip's (I've heard theirs is great), but I'm very curious to check it out. I'm not gonna lie, I'm a bit of a crabcake snob, so here's my take.
Top 3 Crabcakes:
#3 - Catches, Middle River.
No, I didn't mistype. It's that restaurant on 40, with the big bar and giant projector screen hovering over a karaoke stage. It was my first time there, and my friend had ordered a salad with medium-rare tuna. When it came out it smelled so bad I felt naseous. I almost immediately wrote the place off, but when my crabcake came out, I figured I'd give 'em one last chance. It was excellent. I'm not a big fan of any kind of filler, and thankfully theirs was minimal. Even so, it actually added to the dish - I feel like most fillers take away from crab taste, but this one was perfectly complementary. Almost like a light imperial sauce or something. Whatever it was, I said bravo. I finished the whole gargantuan cake - and left wanting more. Best crabcake I've had in Maryland, hands down.
#2 - Del Frisco's, Manhattan.
Del Frisco's is good at a lot of things. Making you feel like a high-end food critic is one of them, if for no other reason that the fact that everything they serve is outsanding. The quality of the steak is a dream. But what better way to start an amazing steak dinner than with a little "surf"? I'd like to know how it's possible to serve a cake with lumps that size without it falling apart on the plate. Seriously, they were huge - and impeccably juicy. There was LITERALLY not a trace of filler or egg white or any of the above. I marveled at the sheer construction. Needless to say, with minimal extras, this cake was extremely impressive. They do serve the cake with a cajun lobster sauce on the side, which was also excellent, although it had a bit too much of a bite for my taste. Either way, delicious. Aaaand... drumroll, please?...
#1 - The Washington Inn, Cape May.
Although the lumps aren't as big as Del Frisco's, they're a decent size - but what makes this cake stand out above the rest is the prep. Like I've already said, I don't love a bunch of extras. But these guys take it to a whole new level. The (extremely light) breading cooks into a crisp, outer layer that seals in every tiny morsel of flavor. The crab is just barely seasoned, allowing the choicest bites to shout, "CRAB!" The key, however, is in the roasted red peppers. Even more than Old Bay or Malt Vinegar, roasted red peppers pair with crabmeat like Will Smith and Jada. It's like the gold medal of the flavor olympics. Not only are there a few right inside the cake, but they serve it with a roasted red pepper cream sauce that I could bathe in (as long as I could simultaneously eat it). I've said too much - if I didn't have to work tomorrow I would literally drive to Jersey right now.
I've started to use red bell peppers in my homemade cakes, too - haven't mastered the sauce yet, but the cakes themselves are fabulous with the diced peppers. I've also found that the Culinary Reserve brand (Super Lump) is worth the 20 bucks a can - it's huge, it's juicy, and I couldn't find a shell in there if I tried.
*sigh* I realllly want a crabcake now...
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