Friday Fun - advertising edition

Went to the AICP show hosted by the Richmond Ad Club last night. There was some truly great work shown, and some spots just demanded to be seen again. And again.


Tide-to-Go "Interview"




Bud Light "Swear Jar"




Skittles "Touch" (Brilliant echoes of classic stories in this one.)




JC Penney "Aviator" (Touching, really touching.)




JC Penney "Magic" (One of many that show how nice it is to see the whole spot as opposed to cutdown versions usually included in ad buys.)




Guinness "Dot" (Someone had seen the classic MGM cartoon of the circle and the line before making this spot.)




StuffIt Deluxe "Pregnancy"




Epuron/German Ministry for the Environment "Power of Wind"




Peace on the Streets "Kill the Gun" (Reverberated with me for obvious reasons.)




And because I don't want to end on a somber note...

Dos Equis "Most Interesting Man"

days in the life

In a recent conversation with my old friend Bonnie in NY, I described life as a single dad caring full-time for a first-grade daughter and holding down an occasionally-demanding full-time job as "balancing a bunch of different things on the ends of sticks with one hand while juggling with the other hand while standing with one foot on a yoga ball while blindfolded and with a mongoose on your head. In a hurricane." She added "sharp tacks on the ball's surface." To which, I also added "balancing the ball on a balance beam over a pit of hot coals."

As much as life can feel like that, though, there are things like the birthday gift Banana made for me:

Dear B & H Photo:

I was shopping on your site, and I liked some of the prices I was seeing on the Nikons. Unfortunately, your site is now broken. I guess the error message means I will look elsewhere.

Signed,
indecisive

Coming Back

I'm coming back. Regularly. I swear I am. The happy hangover of the election has left me as speechless as did the final months of the race, but I'm going to be giving daily attention to this blog soon. Part of it depends on getting a new MacBook—it's easier for me to work when I'm not constrained to a single desk. Part of it also depends on the direction I plan to take the blog.

Politics will probably never leave Impolitic Eye altogether, but I have to admit that writing about politics doesn't particularly make me happy. I am reminded of a recent story on NPR about Berkeley Breathed's decision to end Opus. I am addicted to politics, but I prefer writing about parenting—particularly life as a full-time single father—and advertising and design. Food, of course, is an essential piece of the blog.

I guess the point is there are plenty of people covering the political beat, from small blogs to massive communities. If Impolitic Eye is going to have value beyond offering a public diary of my life, I want to find the ideas, the mental places where that value can be best realized.

Choices, Consumers and The Future

Picked up from Hugh Macleod, this is a brilliant exploration of the connection between assembly-line thinking and the marginalization of consumer (public) voices. Read it. Seriously.

Friday Fun - pt. 2, the seventies edition

And here is where I give you a couple classics that my generation grew up with. You may curse me after the third day they are stuck in your head.




(points if you can tell me which 80s video seems to take a few visual cues from this one)

Friday Fun - pt. 1

Pixel art and a music video created in ASCII characters in Excel? Awesome.

A New Day Dawns

I told Banana this morning that Barack Obama won, and she said "Yay!" Much of what I could or should say about this historic moment I've already written in past posts. It's time for us to roll up our sleeves and get back to the work of making our world a better place.

a note to my neighbor on Monument Avenue

You were correct this morning when you told me that political signs are illegal on public thoroughfares and are only allowed on private property. You were not necessarily protected by the law when you removed the signs, however, and the growl in your voice betrayed your politics. When you ignored my question about whether you would pull McCain signs — had there been any out — I got my answer about your motives. What you did not do, however, is change any votes, and I made a point of picking up one of the signs and replacing the one that had been stolen from my yard.

To you, I also say this: it must be hard to watch your well-defended Southern Republican world pushed to the point of a defeat of historic proportions.

a touching tribute

Barack Obama's remarks about his grandmother on her passing yesterday are an inspiration:

She was somebody who was a very humble person, a very plainspoken person. She is one of those quiet heroes we have all across America, who are not famous, their names are not in the newspapers, but each and every day they work hard. They look after their families. They sacrifice for their children, and their grandchildren. They aren't seeking the limelight. All they try to do is do the right thing. And in this crowd, there are a lot of quiet heroes like that, people like that, mothers and fathers and grandparents who have worked hard and sacrificed all their lives and the satisfaction that they get is in seeing their children or maybe their grandchildren or their great-grandchildren live a better life than they did. That is what America is about. That is what we are fighting for.

what it comes down to tomorrow

Picked up from Daily Kos, this video is extremely well-done and pulls into a nutshell the history of disenfranchisement we confront as we go to the polls tomorrow.

catching up, pt. 2 — the garden edition

Our garden this summer produced the following:

• limited quantities of two kinds of cherry tomatoes
  
• a healthy basil crop
  
• no parsley
  
• no melons
  
• two peppers which were devoured on the plant
  
• one roma tomato
  
• one oddly shaped, but tasty cucumber

Next year, I'll do a little more planning.

Hard-working Americans

On Friday night, every conversation I got into turned toward politics. Whether I steered the topic or someone else brought it up, the presidential contest as well as a few local races dominated everything.

The conversation that stunned me the most was the final one of the evening. I had stopped in to say hello to my neighbors as the evening wound down, and M quickly enlisted me to help convince their visiting friend why she should vote for Obama rather than McCain. She tossed out a good many of the standard Republican and Fox News talking points and seemed stunned by some of our rebuttals ("we had to go after them" vs. "Iraq didn't attack us" followed by "he was planning to bomb us" vs. "he had no weapons capable of hitting us").

The talking point that struck me the most, however, was her contention that "hard-working Americans" should be able to keep their money. I stopped and asked her, "What makes someone who is making half a million dollars a year a harder worker than me?"

She said, "Well, I just don't think we should penalize anyone for being successful."

But I wouldn't let the taxation point go. "What," I asked her, "makes someone who earns ten times what I earn a harder worker than I am and why should that person pay a lower percentage of their overall income in taxes?" She came back with her comment about hard-working Americans, and that's when I really set in. "I earn a good salary on paper," I told her, "but I work full-time and am a full-time single father with no support. In what way am I not a hard-working American? Why is it fair for me to pay a higher percentage of my income in taxes than our neighbors in the million-dollar houses?"

My attack was harsher than it needed to be, but the point was still dead-on. I earn what should be a fairly comfortable middle-class income and work my ass off to do so both at work and at home. Hard-working people should be able to keep a fair share of their income, and the determination of that fair share should start from the bottom and middle of society rather than the top down.

As Phil and I decided yesterday, the rhetorical and ideological world conservative Republicans live in these days really is a topsy-turvy, carnival mirror take on reality.

I wish them good riddance on Tuesday.

toys

I went into the bathroom to stow some towels this evening. Half of the towel shelf was already occupied by a neat stack of towels; the other half was occupied by bath toys. Boats, fish, mermaids, all holdovers from Banana's toddler years. I'd held on to them through the move to our current house a year and a half ago and put them in the bathroom as though they would continue to be relevant to her life.

Over time, they were replaced by the Barbies she plays with during the occasional bath—often enough, she showers these days. When replaced, they moved beside our claw-footed tub. They eventually moved up to the shelves during a cleaning. In all that time, they were never purged. Until tonight.

Through a combination of lassitude and slack oversight, I'd managed to overlook them for this long. When I looked for a space for the stack of clean towels, I realized that this space-consuming collection of toddler toys would never be played with again, at least not by Banana. Should I become a father again, it's not going to happen soon enough to warrant keeping these obsolete toys in our active living space. So, out the toys went.

I suppose there's always a point in parenting (and life, in general) when you realize you've kept the artifacts of the past far longer than necessary. There's a certain bittersweet feeling to realizing that you truly have grown past that part of your life, and I know some mothers who mourn the moments when they realize their children are no longer their babies. In fact, it's happened to many of our friends as they sent their kids to first grade. Yet, though I fondly remember Banana's younger years, I also am coming to accept that we need to purge some of these artifacts (physical and otherwise) if we're going to move forward and grow into the next phases of our lives.

Friday Fun - pre-election political edition

catching up, pt. 1

This was the empty space in my front "yard" after the first Obama sign was stolen.



My answer was to get a second sign and make another donation to the campaign. The second sign hasn't been stolen yet, but it was pulled and thrown on the sidewalk. In addition, several of Kim Gray's signs on the block were vandalized. I don't really get the purpose of such vandalism. If it's out of anger, I can't believe it really makes the perpetrator feel better and the karmic loss isn't really worth such acts. If it's out of politics, you'd have to be stupid to believe that such acts will change my or my neighbors' views. The actual result is quite the opposite.

Friday Fun - another politics edition

HI-larious....

community parenting, a reminder

I am reminded after tonight, after this weekend, after this past month and year of what it means to be a good parent. It means to love and care for your child(ren) and all children in your life, whether they are family or friends. And a good parent shows the same respect and love for your child.

recycled writing - the old-post edition

While watching Jon Stewart's evisceration of Sarah Palin and Michele Bachmann's "pro-America" meme, I remembered this post from the beginning of this blog four years ago. Reading it again now, I think it still holds:

First, there was the North and the South. Then, a few years ago, it was Red America and Blue America. Now, there is John Edwards class-conscious meme of two Americas.

But the bipolar divisions can be so much richer: Democratic and Republican. Minority and majority. Black and white. Pro-choice and Anti-abortion. Vanilla and chocolate. Tortes and apple pies. Starbucks and Maxwell House. Walmart and Target. Organic versus processed. Poor versus rich. West versus East. New York City and Bentonville. LA and Portland. Flatlanders and hill people. Country and city. The New York Times and Fox News. Old and young. Minis and Hummers. Urban renovators and exurban McMansioneers. Greens and liberaterians. Federalists and socialists. Patriots and patriots. The NRA and gun victims. On and on and on.

Really though, there is only one "America" that gives the symbology life: the world of the big box store and pure consumption. Commerce is what creates our society and what drives it, from television to the names of roads built into new developments. The utopian ideal of a society where everyone has the same opportunities is simply the kitsch that our presidential candidates spin in different directions--bootstrappers versus nurturers. And in the classic truth of kitsch, this flag-waving picture simply hides the shit.

The shit is that there are more Americas than any of us know what to do with. It's not just about red and blue, or city and country, or black and white. Rather, the division is much broader, region to region, or even state to state. Cultures and even language change. Signifiers change. Political and social concerns change. All of it to such an extreme that it does not seem inaccurate to say that a Mainer and an Arkansan share nothing more in national identity than the ability to shop in the same stores, eat the same foods, and watch the same television shows. This is not to say that the shibboleth of national identity cannot evolve into a cohesive, nuanced culture, but it's not going to happen as long as our ethos relies on consumerist lemmings doing the bidding of brand managers.

In other news, so many of us are apoplectic over the lies and slander of Fox News, but what of the New York Times's kid glove approach to Bush's lies. Sure, they apologized for their coverage of the lead-up to war--but as a cursory survey of the blogosphere and the AP wire will show, they have let too many follow-up stories pass without notice. Sandy Berger anyone?

late Sunday-evening thoughts

I've had a tough time keeping up with Impolitic Eye lately. It's not for lack of ideas or topics I've wanted to tackle. The problem has, instead, been my own focus. It seems like I've gone through a period of extreme distraction — a case of seasonal ADD, if you will — and I'm lucky if I get the laundry folded each week, let alone keep some semblance of order around the house.

Part of the problem, I suspect, is that many of the things I've pondered lately are too personal for this kind of forum, memories and minor demons that I'm not yet comfortable putting out for public consideration. Other topics seem too trivial to warrant the kind of depth I would like to be putting into this blog. And then, at the end of the day, there's the simple fact that there are a lot of demands on my time and attention from waking to sleeping.

I will celebrate my 38th birthday at the end of this week. There are a lot of changes I want and need to make to my life (and Banana's life). They range from developing better fiscal discipline to getting back to photography to giving Impolitic Eye a more focused voice and effort to taking better care of myself. And more, of course.

So bear with me.

Friday Fun - the day-late, political edition

It's bizarre how much this video "gets" what we've seen in the recent debates...

more ad fun

Hat-tip to my fellow Richmond blogger Buttermilk & Molasses for this one.



It's funny and to the point. In this case, the message is one that resonates more and more: this election is not about us, and it's not about the past; this election is about our children and their future.

PSAs

I picked this up from Daily Kos.

Apparently, the spot ran just after last night's debate. This means too few people probably saw it, because it is one of the most emotionally powerful ads I have ever seen. It has the visual feel of Errol Morris and the power of a punch in the gut. Watch and pass on, please.

sickening

We truly are entering a scary time in the course of our public discourse. Perhaps this election will give us a renewed chance to have an honest, national dialogue about race, history, and the future. Unfortunately when I watch videos like the one below and pick up articles like this from the Times I wonder whether we can ever find the kind of common ground we need. After all, how do you really reach across to people who hold these kinds of deep convictions.

“I would think of him as I would of another of mixed race,” said Glenn Reynolds, 74, a retired textile worker in Martinsville, Va., and a former supervisor at a Goodyear plant. “God taught the children of Israel not to intermarry. You should be proud of what you are, and not intermarry.”

*********

“He’s going to tear up the rose bushes and plant a watermelon patch,” said James Halsey, chuckling, while standing in the Wal-Mart parking lot with fellow workers in the environmental cleanup business. “I just don’t think we’ll ever have a black president.”

And the money shot:

“I’ve always been against the blacks,” said Mr. Rowell, who is in his 70s, recalling how he was arrested for throwing firecrackers in the black section of town. But now that he has three biracial grandchildren — “it was really rough on me” — he said he had “found out they were human beings, too.”

So, you jump from there to these people in Ohio, and it's hard to imagine a long-enough bridge to cross this divide.



**********

UPDATE: In case we need further proof, here it is:

the Richmond Folk Festival — balancing kids' needs and adults' wants

The first Richmond Folk Festival was a clear success, building on the past three years of the National Folk Festival. Almost 200,000 people came out for the shows, and it all came off without visible hitches.

Banana and I saw Mayan pole dancers, Japanese taiko drummers, great blues, Inuit throat singers, Zuni traditional dances, and remarkable celtic harmonies from Liadan. Sad to say, I wasn't able to get great photographs — I'm still trying to put enough spending money together for a digital SLR. Nonetheless, here's a brief taste of a remarkable afternoon.









With any luck, the partnership with the National Council for the Traditional Arts will tamp down the usual Richmond non-profit egotistical inefficiency and this remarkable festival will continue for years to come.

the sewer we've fallen into...

Picked this up from Brian.

I should have something articulate to say about how this image epitomizes in with the whole sad state of political and social discourse in our society. Unfortunately, all I can say is that things like this make me profoundly sad and more than a little scared that our future will continue to repeat our past.

my most surreal moment as a parent, so far...

The moment I turned around and found Banana trying to teach our neighbor's daughter about meditation...


Mind you, this is not something I (or anyone else as far as I know) has actively taught Banana.

a quick snapshot

I had an unfortunately contentious argument with some fellow parents today. The four of them were, shall we say, on the conservative end of the spectrum, and I am clearly not. Unfortunately, I was partly responsible for the contentious turn of the conversation since I saw it fit to drop plenty of my own opinions about the election, the mess we're in, and the record of the past several Republican administrations. What bothers me is not so much the substance of our debate—such discussions are important for society, I think. What bothers me is the rhetoric and anger that I let slip.

That said...

I thought about a few of the points I glanced on in the conversation, and it seemed worth putting a small inventory of them together:

• Many of the foreign policy disasters we are still dealing with happened during Republican administrations. These include the removal of Iran's Prime Minister in 1953 under the Eisenhower administration, the support of and development of Saddam Hussein's dictatorship during the Reagan administration, and the support and development of Osama Bin Laden as part of the mujahadin in Afghanistan during the Reagan Administration.
  
  
• Much of Palin's story is built on lies. The funny part here is that I wanted to provide one or two solid non-partisan links, but there were far too many good sources to choose just one. For now, though, here's a good start.
  
  
• McCain's favorite economic adviser and co-chair of his current campaign really should take much of the blame for the current crisis. And that culpability began in the Reagan administration. Man, ain't deregulation great?!?
  
  
• Obama and Ayers have never been close. In fact, they haven't had any direct contact in more than three years, and never "palled around together."
  
  
• It strikes me as very interesting that this campaign almost seems like a contest between Obama and Palin at moments.
  

I'll come up with more points as the days wear on. Regardless, I learned an important lesson today: you don't persuade anyone by criticizing their people. Rather than attacking someone's candidates and listening to their attacks on my candidates, I should have asked a question. To wit, why should someone support McCain?

Had the conversation turned in that direction, I could have offered plenty of reasons I think someone should vote for Obama. And every one of those reasons would have been based in things I like about the man, his ideas, and his advisers.

Forest Hill market, this week - and more

We had a small, but productive trip to the market this week. We came home with some nice lettuce, broccoli, peppers, amazing carrots, some bread, and apples. A few of the vendors reacted with dismay, however, when I mentioned in casual conversation that I had begun to trim my market purchases. Why, they wanted to know, would I do that?

The answer was simple: through the early and middle parts of the summer, I overbought. This meant I spent money on food I ended up throwing away. The simple and sad truth is that, as a single parent with a (small) commute and a demanding full-time job, I can manage only so much meal preparation during the course of a week.

With various fresh vegetables and fruits that go bad at unpredictable rates—from the lettuces that can last three weeks when stored properly to the strawberries that suddenly go bad in a day—it is hard to base your entire meal planning around a market trip. And when things get busy and exhausting by the middle of the week, going out or making a quick, simple pasta dish takes precedence over the creative use of that eggplant that seemed like such a good idea at the time. Add the unpredictability of a six-year old's palate—one week zucchini is great, the next week it is devil-spawn—and you have a tough juggling act.

Too often, the result of that juggling act was food that went bad. (For example, there is currently chicken in the refrigerator I may have to throw out because the past few days ended up being busier than expected, and some unfinished pac choi from last week went into the trash.)

Given that August and September were extraordinarily difficult on the Impolitic Eye bank account and given the strange and difficult financial straits internationally, I've decided to pull back a little bit. There are still a few things that I will buy at Whole Foods, but we will return to stocking our cupboards heavily with Trader Joe's items that are inexpensive and easy to prepare. It's a tough thing to accept that I can't always afford either the money or the time for everything I'd like to make or do, but the reality is I have two hours in the morning to get us both showered, fed and out the door and three hours between picking Banana up from after-school care and her bedtime. And dinner needs to be on the table in that first hour and a half.

My life falls into some pretty narrow constraints. No matter how I try to game my own system, those constraints don't appear to be changing any time soon. Time to live with in my means. And those "means" are financial, chronological, and physical.

To some extent, this is the ultimate lifehacking.

friday fun - the stock market's crashing so it's going to be cheesy edition

Presented without further comment, some fine fruits of the middle of the Reagan years...

last night's debate

To put it as simply as possible, the messages I got from last night's debate were:

• Obama: Vote for me because I have plans for how to get the country back on the right track, and I care about the middle and working classes — a message that clearly resonates with me.
  
  
• McCain: Vote for me because I've been doing this for a long time, and I deserve it.
  
  
• One man struck me as patient, but ready to fight back when attacked while the other struck me as someone who simply cannot believe that he is not winning—after all he's done.
  
  
• Though the debate has been declared dull by many pundits and bloggers, I think the subtler psychodrama was fascinating.
  
  
• Tom Brokaw did a wretched job as moderator.
  
  
• McCain mentioned Ronald Reagan and Joe Lieberman more times than he mentioned Palin. Which is to say he didn't say her name a single time.
  
  
• Mostly, I was struck by how much this matchup exemplified a generational break. McCain relied on anachronistic references and jokes and, from an obsession with oil and nuclear power to a Cold War mentality, displayed a frame of reference buried in the last half of the twentieth century. Meanwhile, Obama displayed a desire to look at the world as it is now and find solutions that make sense for future generations.

That said, the most remarkable and telling part of the debate didn't even occur in the debate itself. Instead, the post-debate period illustrated clearly the differences between the candidates and their approaches. Picked up from Wonkette, the video below shows 11 minutes out of more than half an hour filmed by CSPAN after the debate. Sure, you can see the infamous dis when McCain sidesteps shaking Obama's hand. More importantly, you can watch the McCains leave as quickly as possible while the Obamas stayed around to talk to people. There is no audio, so you need to be able to read lips if you want to know what they're saying. It is remarkable, however, to watch them both carry on conversations with many of the people in the hall, and to watch the excitement as these "undecided" voters ask to have their pictures taken with the Obamas.

So I put it out there... who would you rather have as a leader: someone who leaves as quickly as possible or someone who makes an effort to connect with and listen to everyone?

Pho Tay Do

Just took a longish lunch at one of our local pho places. What distinguishes this one — besides the fact that I haven't been able to locate it with Google Maps — is that it is in a small house one street off the Horsepen corridor, a small house decorated with fascinating artwork painted by what I can only assume is one of the owners.

The food, however, is excellent, and the crowd is small and almost exclusively Vietnamese.

smears

Brian picked this up as a reminder. I have to say that it's the classic embodiment of the glass houses cliché. What is stunning is that it represents yet another blind spot in the McCain campaign to the power of the internet, and another moment of their hubristic belief that they still hold the majority. After all, there are no videos of Obama's distant, tangential associations with mildly controversial figures, but there are videos of McCain contradicting himself... oh yeah, and of Palin being protected from witchcraft and singing as part of a Christian recording group.





If evangelicals viewed Bush's presidency as a validation of their mission, putting Palin in one of the most important offices in the world would set us on a full path to a religious schism in the country.

crash, anyone?

Mid-afternoon and the DOW is off by 700 points. Ouch doesn't even begin to cover it. We are in scary, scary straits. Personally, my retirement savings (kept in a well-balanced TIAA-Cref IRA) are down 14% since July. I had considered using some of the funds to wipe out some debt and/or to use for a down payment on a house next year, but realistically, I'm starting to wonder how much will be left after all is said and done.

debate follow-up

For any of you who missed both the VP debate and this weekend's SNL, this clip gets the debate dead to rights. Tina Fey is, of course, excellent as Palin (head shake). Queen Latifah as Gwen Ifill, though, is an absolute stroke of genius. Watch, please.




(Shout outs to Berkeley, Chris, Sarah, and all of our kids for helping make this a great weekend.)

Friday Fun - mindblowing ad edition

Friday Fun - bad teeth edition

I dunno. After a crazy week and coming off last night's debate and staring down the tunnel of more roller coasters, I'm feeling in an up mood.

Happy October!

October. Crisp morning air. Turning leaves. Oktoberfest biers. Macaroni and cheese. Spaetzle. Chicken paprikas. Halloween. (My birthday.)

I have to admit I love this month. It often feels like life starts over around now. The process of cleaning and organizing the house gains new importance. New projects come up, and I feel like I have the energy to pursue them.

wow

Scary news today. Very scary. And now the Dow is down 537.7 points at 3:00.

bad ad

I put it to any of my fellow media-obsessives out there to tell me where the worst mistakes happened in this spot. Was it on the part of Shawn Johnson's agent? Was it on the part of the Creative Director who came up with this stupid spot? Was it on the part of the copywriter who wrote such a hilariously bad line as "It makes my taco pop"? Or was it on the part of the brilliant brand manager for Ortega who clearly saw an obvious connection between Olympic gymnasts and taco fixins?



(Picked up from AdFreak.)

Notes from the weekend - State Fair edition

Paul
Originally uploaded by spcejunk

Banana and I wrapped up the weekend with a few hours at the Virginia State Fair. For folks like your trusty blogger, this is a much-needed grounding experience. Full account to follow soon...

Notes from the weekend - Trader Joe's edition

Anyone who has been near me in the past four years knows how excited I am to have a Trader Joe's in Richmond. Many of us still think they should have landed in the city-proper, rather than putting roots in Short Pump*. Still, I have to admit that it's just nice having TJ's (and Whole Foods) in this city finally.

Frankly, it's shocking that it took so long for these stores to arrive. Richmond has a fairly cosmopolitan population and a diverse business community. There is a fair amount of old money running around and a strong, young creative class. But the city also has one of the strongest urban inferiority complexes I've seen. Considering all the places I've lived, this is not an insignificant observation. That complex jives well with a certain provinciality—civic structures and the corporate and governmental bodies are driven by a good-old-boy mentality that is further driven by a sense that only home-grown solutions work.

For this reason, I think, our local grocery chain was able to fend off inroads by companies that would hurt its business. Why, then, am I ecstatic about patronizing our recently-arrived chains? Because I do not feel that the local grocers really cater to me in the same way that TJ's or Whole Foods does.

That said... We finally have a Trader Joe's! In short order—shorter order than a similar trip to Kroger or Ukrops might take—I had satisfied most of what we needed, and thrown in a few extras besides. We have a nicely stocked pantry for barely more than I might have spent at either of the other stores, and I can feed Banana snacks and meals that are generally filled with wholesome ingredients. Is the stuff entirely organic? No, but that's not the point. The point is that I do my best to keep high fructose corn syrup and other artificial sweeteners and flavors out of her diet, and I do my best to make sure that the food we eat is processed as little as possible. And between TJ's (and Whole Foods) I can make that happen without having to read every label and worry about the sourcing of every product.

I do, however, need to make sure that I keep us within our budget. It would be so easy to slip...





*For those who do not live here, Short Pump used to be farmland, about eleven miles west of the city limits. The arrival of a "lifestyle" mall and many big box stores transformed it about five years ago, and it has been a hub of suburban retail sprawl ever since. Traffic is hell, and fallow soil has been replaced by a soul-less commercial crossroads.

Notes from the weekend - South of the James Market edition

The balance of the market vendors this week fell disproportionately to craft and prepared-food vendors. I hope this trend does not continue. The market is a gem and should aim to be the premiere source of locally grown and produced food. The bowls and blouses need to be secondary.

Notes from the weekend - debate edition

If you have been hiding under a rock for the past week, you may not know that there was a minor altercation between our presidential candidates on Friday night. You may also have missed the news that one of the candidates tried to scuttle the whole damn thing under the guise of this little economic crisis we've had going on. Well, the little gambit didn't work; the maverick gambler played his bluff and lost. He arrived in Oxford, Mississippi, with a slight snark following in the media coverage.

{On a side note, the location of the debate is, itself, remarkable. Ole Miss was a campus that required National Guard intervention for integration to happen.}

So, yes, the debate happened. The Impolitic household took in another parent and child for the evening, and the first graders tore up Banana's room whilst the parents drank wine and beer and tried to follow the meanderings between Senators Obama and McCain. Loosely put, here's what I saw:

• Both candidates played to their supporters. In general, Obama was more forward-looking and more specific in his answers, but really both did their best to stick to talking points even when Jim Lehrer tried to pull them into more engaging territory.
  
  
• McCain looked tired and seemed the less-prepared of the two. His efforts to land attacks against Obama turned ad hominem and snide. In fact, when he tried to begin with the standard, tired attack of the Democratic candidate as a tax-and-spender, Obama deftly argued back with specifics about his proposals and effectively took the wind out of the attack.
  
  
• Obama seemed better prepared, and generally navigated the proceedings with a far more presidential demeanor. When asked to engage McCain directly he obliged, even when it was clear that McCain would not even return eye contact.
  
  
• McCain spouted some fascinating lines. His reference to SDI (Reagan's Star Wars program) was bizarre and seemed anachronistic given current issues. We had to rewind his phrase "not the beginning of the end, but the end of the beginning" twice to parse what he meant. His reference to a pen for vetoes recalled Bob Dole's awful debate performances, particularly when he paused and said, "Well, this pen is kind of old." It truly was a head-scratcher.
  
  
• Obama held his own on the foreign policy sections of the debate. Particularly good was the moment when he pointed out that McCain kept referring to the surge—as though the war had begun in 2007, not 2003.
  
  
• Though some friends have criticized the format, I appreciated Lehrer's effort to push the debate into a more discursive model and to resist hewing firmly to a script.

************
UPDATE: This Old Pen

Friday Fun - Steve Earle edition

Given the season we're in now and the madcap antics of certain leaders, this man's songwriting comes to mind a great deal.

I don't necessarily love the video antics added to this, but the performance is clean and beautiful.



This one reminds me that as much as I like Earle on his own, I also think he was stronger with the Dukes. They were a tight band, and really remarkable live.



And finally, the song he opened with on the night I first saw him in March 2001. It was a hell of a show, the end of this tour, and Earle and the Dukes tore up the setlist and played for more than three hours. A friend lost track at 34 songs. That night is also, in large part, responsible for Banana's existence since I met Banana mère at that show. What a long, crazy, transcendental trip it's been...

proud parent moments

Occasionally, your kid does something small that just makes you proud to be her parent. Yesterday, Banana popped out two pieces of artwork that fit the bill.

First, there's this piece from school. Her control of the lines and balance of colors is really remarkable. The lettering is also pretty impressive.



Later, at dinner at Sticky Rice, she colored in Piko with an equal flare. But it's her illustration of Reilly, complete with frame and narrative that really blew me away.


(Translation for those who aren't used to reading a six-year old's kidspelling: "My dog is a he. Name is Reilly. I really like him. He's very friendly to me.")

Friday Fun - another politics edition

I have to give props to Phil for this one...

biden

Thirty-six years ago, Joe Biden lost his wife and young daughter in a tragic car accident. His two young sons were severely injured as well. It was the year he was set to begin his first term in the Senate. He nearly recused himself from the seat, but continued nonetheless. For the next few years, then, he juggled life as a single father and a Senator. Despite a remarriage, new children, and the success of his sons, the man still carries with him the weight of the loss. The man has my respect and sympathies.


Watch CBS Videos Online

mornings, pt. 2

Is it something in the moon cycle? Do darker mornings also mean darker moods for Banana?

This morning, I was up and let Reilly out earlier than usual. I was on target for a morning where everything was pulling together, and then Banana woke up. From the get-go, she was cranky. Considering she'd been cranky the night before, I was a little disappointed that ten hours of rest hadn't reset her mood switch. Nonetheless, her crankiness kicked off another stressful morning. She decided she didn't like the new rice milk I'd bought over the weekend. She didn't want yogurt. It was cold. Her leg hurt. Her stomach hurt. She didn't want to take a shower before she ate.

Unfortunately, I had to play the role of both good cop and bad cop. The good cop was understanding and sympathetic and offered to make oatmeal. The bad cop had to threaten to cancel dinner with our friends this evening. In the end, everything worked out. We made it to school a little later than I'd hoped, and Banana was very helpful in getting stuff out of the house.

I did, however, have to sit and breathe for a few minutes after I'd dropped her off. The stress of it all had taken its own life in my head and back. Raising kids is stressful enough, but when you're the only parent and you have to play every role at all times... well... it seems like every positive, wonderful moment has the possibility of dropping precipitously into a minefield of frustrations.

some mornings are like this

8:01 a.m. - We've successfully passed waking up, having breakfast, and getting dressed. Banana and Daddy are both happy and getting ready for the final push where Daddy will eat his breakfast while pulling together the lunch box.

8:02 a.m. - Back in the kitchen to eat a banana and have vitamins.

8:03 a.m. - "Daddy, I don't really like bananas." "Really? When did that happen?"

8:04 a.m. - "Daddy, I don't really feel like going to school today." "Really? Why?" "Because I don't feel good." All evidence points to the child being fine.

8:05 a.m. - The voice is getting whinier. "Daddy, I don't really like the Y Aftercare." "Is it because AE is still being mean to you?" The eyes are beginning to look puffy. She nods.

8:06 a.m. - "Sweetie, we can talk about it later, but what I need right now is for you to finish your vitamins and finish getting ready for school." The puffy eyes have now begun to water, and the whimper kicks in. I'm still trying to measure my words and my tone while the whimper turns inexplicably into a full cry.

8:09 a.m. - We're into full meltdown, and I'm trying to take in a bit of my fruit and yogurt while simultaneously pulling lunch materials together and trying to talk down a little girl who is now saying that I am "the meanest daddy in the world" and who is begging for mommy. Mind you, nothing has passed in the past two minutes since I asked her to finish her vitamins.

8:11 a.m. - "You know, Daddy, I don't really like lemonade." Lemonade dumped and water poured, Banana exits the kitchen.

8:12 a.m. - How the fuck am I going to get everything together and get her to school and me to work?

8:13 a.m. - I find her in her room in abject tantrum. Why? Some of the water spilled on her diary. Offers to dry the diary off are refused. I stalk out of the room and make it halfway down the hall before correcting my approach.

8:14 a.m. - I kneel down and tell her that I'm very sorry she spilled the water, and that I'm very sorry that she is upset, but that I very much need her to get some shoes on and brush her teeth.

8:15 a.m. - I pick her up and hold her for a couple minutes.

8:18 a.m. - I leave the room as she is putting on socks and her pink Chuck Taylors.

8:21 a.m. - She trots in the kitchen, grinning. She has brought some coins with her. "We put it in the Fox bank at school," she announces. "Can you get your teeth brushed?" I ask. She nods happily and bounces back to the bathroom.

8:28 a.m. - We begin the final move toward the door. I am still befuddled.

8:32 a.m. - Outside, locking the door. "It's the third day of Fall, Daddy, and it reeeeaaaallly feels like Fall."

8:33 a.m. - "Yes, it does," I say after a deep breath. The air is cool, and I'm still befuddled.

wow

There has been plenty of rumbling about McCain's begrudging support in his party and further rumbling about how he has lost some Republican support, but losing George Will has to occupy a special level of Republican Hell. And when Will compares you to the Queen of Hearts, well, it's just a sad day if you're a Republican candidate:

Channeling his inner Queen of Hearts, John McCain furiously, and apparently without even looking around at facts, said Chris Cox, chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission, should be decapitated. This childish reflex provoked the Wall Street Journal to editorialize that "McCain untethered" -- disconnected from knowledge and principle -- had made a "false and deeply unfair" attack on Cox that was "unpresidential" and demonstrated that McCain "doesn't understand what's happening on Wall Street any better than Barack Obama does."

What a two-fer of criticism: Will and the WSJ. Good going, McCain. Keep it up, please.

*shaking head*

DailyKos has picked up yet another awful example of the government's idea of environmental stewardship. The lede itself is frightening enough:

The Environmental Protection Agency has decided there's no need to rid drinking water of a toxic rocket fuel ingredient that has fouled public water supplies around the country.
EPA reached the conclusion in a draft regulatory document not yet made public but reviewed Monday by The Associated Press.

The ingredient, perchlorate, has been found in at least 395 sites in 35 states at levels high enough to interfere with thyroid function and pose developmental health risks, particularly for babies and fetuses, according to some scientists.

So those are the broader risks, but it's one of the last notes in the article that particularly gives me pause:

Perchlorate is particularly widespread in California and the Southwest, where it's been found in groundwater and in the Colorado River, a drinking-water source for 20 million people. It's also been found in lettuce and other foods.

Granted: poisoning our food and water supplies is nothing new. At what point, however, does news like this become widespread public knowledge and reason for larger changes?

The market return

After a few weeks off, I made it back to the market yesterday. There is no doubt that Whole Foods has cut into my market purchases. Nonetheless, I came away with some absolutely beautiful produce.

The heirloom tomatoes and peppers have continued to come in. Lettuces are back, and I can't wait for the fall weather to bring more varieties. The pac choi was in again, and I plan to stir fry some with locally made tofu and bamboo shoots tomorrow. Tart and crisp apples have finally appeared. There were a few hawkers trying to rid themselves of watermelons, getting the price down to two melons for three dollars. I was tempted, but I had to remind myself that Banana and I rarely make it through half a watermelon—never mind two. So it was a good, if smaller than usual, trip to Forest Hill.

That said, Banana and I had a couple of long days. She was slated to have the weekend with Banana Mère, but it was a little mixed up with a party with some pool friends yesterday afternoon and a block party on our street this afternoon. It made for a grand, tiring time.

Fast forward to this evening when I was facing down dinner preparations with a tired, potentially-cranky girl on the couch. I looked at the beautiful array of veggies on the cutting board, and came up with a perfect, easy solution.



Penne burro e parmigiano with garlic, fresh basil, a few tomatoes, and olives. Seven ingredients to make for a simple and delicious meal.




(P.S. — Excuse the poor-quality photos. The phone, not the camera, was handy at the moment I needed it.)

Friday Fun - the Ben Folds edition

So I'm in a Ben Folds mood. Somewhere between the fall air in the morning and the scratch in my throat, a couple of his tracks have been trucking through my mind the past few days. So without further ado, some clips from a live recording at Sessions at West 54th way back in 1997...

Covering The Flaming Lips:


Great lyrics and a killer rhythm:


From his earliest stuff:


And a kick-ass version of what may be the greatest post-breakup song ever:

question of the day

If WaMu fails as is predicted, do I still have to pay the bills on my WaMu card?

more brilliant satire

Enough said...

back to the 80s (please don't)

Let us reiterate: actors should tread very, very carefully when they try to cross over to music. This video is certainly proof. It may also represent one of many, many low cultural moments in the 80s.



Thanks so much to Gothamist for reminding us that this ever existed. Rock on!

Brilliant!

Picked up from Crooks and Liars:



***************

UPDATE: Brian linked this here, and he added a nice little comment to Republicans about their ability to do satire.

I would also add that our current generations of Republicans do satire the way they do governance: ham-fisted and badly. In fact, I've come to the conclusion that Republicans only care about protecting profits and the profiteers. After all, thinking about the shambles of the past eight years and the Reagan/Bush years of the eighties, what other conclusion can one draw? The protection of the environment is handed over to the people who see resources as something to be exploited not protected, other species as a hindrance rather than part of an ecosystem. Regulation of the health care industry is handed over to people who see it as a profit vehicle rather than something that can (and should) ensure the care and well-being of anyone who needs it rather than anyone who can pay for it. Regulation of our financial industries is handed over to people who honestly seem to believe that debt itself is a commodity, and that corporate profits are the truest sign of a healthy economy. The military is run by people who have a vested interest in proving that might makes right, who embody what Truman warned us against. The educational system is handed over to people who do not believe that a system of education can work. Protection of our citizens is completely abdicated by a ruling class that believes businesses with no civic ethic can regulate themselves and who believe that social darwinism can really work. And we land here.

Is it any surprise that I want to see a better world for my daughter?

economic madness

This interview on Morning Edition this morning is a maddening exercise in double-speak. When confronted with McCain's description of himself as "fundamentally a deregulator," McCain adviser Douglas Holtz-Eakin performs some astonishing rhetorical flips to explain how McCain understands "leveling the playing field." Then later in the interview, Holtz-Eakins performs an even more astounding feat when he suggests that more transparency about CEO pay will lower pay inequity between corporate CEOs and "average" Americans.

Listen to it for the sunshine metaphor alone. But more importantly, listen to it for yet another reason why McCain cannot be allowed to win this election.

ouch

From the NYT headlines just now:

Investors, nervous over the fates of A.I.G., Merrill Lynch and Lehman Brothers, sent the Dow Jones average down 4.4 percent or 504.48 points.

Guess I'll have a couple beers before I check my retirement accounts this evening. On the other hand, maybe this is the time to diversify a bit.

*******

And then from another article in the Times comes this gem of a lede:

After more than six months in triple-digit territory, oil prices dropped sharply on Monday, falling under the symbolic $100-a-barrel threshold as financial woes raised concerns about a slowing economy and slackening oil demand.

Remind me again... how many months have we heard rumblings about "a slowing economy"?

Speaking from this end of the food chain, it certainly seems like we're in deep, deep trouble.

Monday Madness

So, let's just say that the financial news today is a little unnerving. And in the face of it all, Atrios has to remind us of this particularly shade of the early nineties:



*shudder*

sirens

Two police cars just blasted past Chez Impolitic with their sirens and lights going. They were moving easily at 50 down this residential street. I imagine some of the cars coming to our old house did the same thing a year and a half ago. That said, here's a little update on where I am with all of that these days.

Sirens and loud sounds still make me jump, but they have ever since (at least) the shooting at Arkansas in 2000. I still have occasional flashbacks. Overall, though, I've accepted a different take on the whole thing—I am a hero, but I am not larger-than-life; I'm not the only person who has ever been shot, randomly or purposely; the experience was awful and is immutable at this point; and finally, it has simply become part of a remarkable set of growth experiences within the past few years.

I'm not saying that the case is closed—it isn't—but I am saying that am finally beginning to move beyond a certain level of solipsism.

Personal (or family) mythologies, and the lessons therein.

This is a story of painful lessons based on poor research.

A few years ago, I was given my great aunt Dorothy's china and silver. The silver included four sets, and it was Oneida Heiress. The china I had once heard referred to as "Dorothy's Spode." Knowing what little I do about antiques, I saw the Oneida as the lesser and the china as the greater—after all, what I knew of Oneida was inexpensive, but nice flatware and Spode was a name that came with a certain cachet.

After lugging these things around for the past few years, I realized that they were adding little to my life beyond weight. Some friends had tried to point this out, but I hadn't listened. I hadn't listened until I took a long hard look at the realities of my life. Fine china had little purpose in my life, and I didn't particularly like the pattern. As for the silver, I'm not a fan of polishing, and until I am, the stuff would just collect dust. Besides, there was at least one other set with more family history attached to it that I knew I'd be inheriting down the line.

This is all a prelude to my decision to include these items and a few decorative plates I'd also been given from Dorothy's various possessions in the alley sale we held on my block today.

I did a fair amount of research to try to get a value on the china. Unfortunately, it did not have any of the marks that Spode—particularly Copeland Spode—should have. The pattern did not match anything I could come up with online. Still, I remember that remark I heard a few times, that it was "Dorothy's Spode." With that, I put a few pieces and a complete inventory out for people to check out. I also put the silver out, though I had done no research on it. My mistake.

The china drew some interest, but no takers. I asked people to make offers; no one did. They said it was nice and moved on to other things. The decorative plates drew some interest, but only one taker. The woman who bought one plate and who fingered the others with interest pointed out to me that two of the decorative plates were transferware, which significantly decreased their worth I discovered on a quick web search later. On further research, it became clear that "Dorothy's Spode" was either a set of seconds or department store-grade version of a pattern—neither the true pattern, nor the provenance to make it truly valuable.

The silver sold quickly. I asked $40 for the set of four place settings and a serving spoon and fork. When the guy offered me $30, I took it. I was tired of the added weight in my life, and tired of worrying about whether I was going to sell anything at the alley sale. Oh, but isn't short-term gain a long-term loss sometimes. After doing a bit of further research on the china this evening, I decided to check replacements.com for a value on the silver. What I found was that I had given the guy a killer deal—$30 for a set that could sell for nearly two hundred. Granted: selling it for that would require time and patience for polishing, both of which are in short supply.

Still, it's a little bittersweet to discover that I relied on vague memories of family history rather than doing my own investigation. Next time, maybe I'll give a little more respect to the dead and take a little more time to do research. Or perhaps I'll simply take the path I've chosen with the china—Banana likes it, so we'll hang on to it for the time-being.

After all, to quote Wendell Berry: "Short-term practicality is long-term idiocy." I think I'm going to aim for long-term sensibility.

Friday Fun - another politics edition

The use of fonts and music alone in this brand new Obama ad make it fun — and relevant.

kids grow up

So Banana started first grade last week. What a difference a year makes...



Six is both more amazing and more frustrating than any age before it. By now, kids are developing a truly amazing sense of self—and fighting back accordingly. At four and five, the goofy sense of self and personal development was remarkable to watch, but at those ages, kids are still largely parroting what we parents tell them. Six and going into first grade change that.

At this age, kids become truly empathetic and truly seem to develop their own ways of thinking about the world. That little glimmer you saw in their eye at a year and three and four and a half has suddenly blossomed into a full-fledged human being. As amazing as it is, it's also very frustrating, but that's another story for another time...

Belated

So, while we were in Ann Arbor two weeks ago, my father insisted that we should hit one of the classic haunts of pre-football crowds at Michigan games—Krazy Jim's Blimpy Burgers. I hadn't been there in years, at least not since sometime in the nineties. This is odd considering a pilgrimage to Blimpy's was practically an essential part of the Michigan football tradition. We'd park in the lot near West Quad and the Union and stop at Blimpy's on our way down to the game, picking up our greasy footballs of burgers and some fried zucchini or french fries to go with it. In the later fall, there might be soup and hot cider. And there was always the line, which snaked out the door. Now, the line snakes out the door and down the sidewalk. Beware anyone who tries to make a quick trip of Blimpy's on a football Saturday: you will end up standing next to this sign for a while.


While we were waiting in line, a neophyte couple behind us asked many questions. They were, in Blimpy parlance, Blimpy virgins. There is, in fact, an annotated menu for Blimpy virgins to explain the ordering process. Put simply, every person (including young children) has his/her own tray. The first order put in is for drinks and sides. Then the burgers are ordered as singles, doubles, triples, quads, or quints. You have your choice of extras, cheeses, and rolls, and you order from the fry cook. The fry cook, mind you, has worked at Blimpy since she was 14, since 1969. She is as much an institution as the place itself. She berates and abuses the customers, but it's the classic heart of gold hiding behind a rough exterior. She will do whatever she can to make your meal the best it can be. While we were eating, in fact, she prepared a grilled cheese for a boy who didn't want a burger. When the condiment-man/cashier shoved it past with a shrug, she loudly said, "Just because it's a damn grilled cheese doesn't mean it doesn't get the same treatment every other sandwich gets. You give him whatever he wants. You show him he matters too." I appreciate this level of service not just because it indicates the care she has been taught and exhibited for almost forty years, but because I have benefitted from it too—for as many years as I can remember, I have asked for Tabasco on my burgers, and she has always obliged, even though there isn't a single Tabasco bottle visible behind the counter and it's not on the menu. But, regardless, this isn't just about me.


With that great (albeit surly) service, comes a great result. My apologies the the vegetarians and vegans who read this blog, but I still love my burgers. And Blimpy's serves up a damn fine burger. A triple with grilled onions, provolone, and Tabasco on a kaiser roll. And on the side, fried broccoli and a big bottle of (pretty good) root beer.

plagiarism?

I was searching for images related to the Peterson's Guides today, and one of my searches brought up this old logo for the company:


The image seemed awfully reminiscent of something else I've seen recently, something that was supposedly designed recently:


I guess this means the McCain campaign is so bereft of new ideas that they can't even design a unique logo. Or maybe it's just that there isn't anything they won't recycle. Anybody care to comment?

late sunday fun

Just picked this up off of Gawker. Awesome and funny. Oh, McCain, your people were so short-sighted in their choices of background material during your big speech.

Whole Foods hits Richmond

And it hit with a gigantic bang. I headed out there late this morning, thinking that Sunday morning should be relatively quiet. No way. Not even. The place was packed. I have a feeling Trader Joe's will be similarly mobbed when it opens soon. Yet another reason I'm amazed it took so long for these stores to land in Richmond... and perhaps another testament to how much the population of Richmond has changed since Fresh Fields (later bought out by Whole Foods) opened a store here in 1994.

I will say this for Whole Foods: it has Banana's stamp of approval. Realizing that I would be too busy this afternoon to roast a chicken, I bought one of their rotisserie birds. She declared it some of the best chicken she has ever had, and asked for me to put a leg in her lunch tomorrow. That's a first.

*********

On a side note, I've been remiss about the blog again. Life, life, life...

Friday Fun - the RNC edition

So many good moments on the Daily Show this week, but this has to be one of Stewart's best ever.



This is really good too...

McCain

I have one thing to say about McCain's speech... apparently none of his handlers have ever watched The Colbert Report. If they had, there is no way they would have had McCain speaking in front of a green screen (or a blue screen) again. Ever.

Let the games begin.

RNC moment

Mitt Romney is speaking now, and what amazes me is that the talking points never change, not even a little bit. Apparently, though, Mitt didn't get the memo that you're supposed to call the liberals Democrats; instead he relies heavily on the word liberal, and on old, tired tropes like "the party of Big Brother."

*sigh*

Now, the liberals/Democrats are to blame for the mortgage meltdown. Amazingly, that provides the "perfect" seque to tie Ronald Reagan to John McCain. Honestly, if you listened directly to the rhetoric, you'd think it was a liberal or a Democrat who'd been running and destroying the country in the past eight years.

Perhaps the choicest visual moment is that of "Prosperity" signs being raised while people are chanting "U-S-A." The irony in that is rich beyond belief.

note to self

I occasionally read political journalism that swing to the opposite end of the spectrum. Call it an exercise in knowing the enemy. But then there are the moments when my head explodes and I realize I can't stand some of the maddening obfuscations and twisted rhetoric required by the adherence to old, tired storylines.