Unconscionable

Salmonella in peanut butter. Awful, right? Mercury in high fructose corn syrup. Troubling, right? What I find more troubling is that companies and regulators may have information about these issues long before the public learns about them and long before anything is done to correct them.

It is shocking and inconceivable that the company responsible for the current Salmonella outbreak in peanut products knew about the contamination long before any actions were taken. Salmonella is deadly, yet Peanut Corp. allowed the contamination to pass unreported and unresolved until death and illness brought it to light:

Michael Rogers, director of the division of filed investigations at the F.D.A., said that the inspectional team found records showing that on at least 12 occasions between 2007 and 2008, the company’s own tests of its product “identified some type of salmonella and released a product after it was retested, in some cases by a different laboratory.”

Mr. Rogers said the positive test results should have led the company to take actions to eliminate the contamination. “It’s significant because, at the point at which salmonella was identified, it shouldn’t be there, based on the manufacturing process that’s designed to mitigate salmonella, actually eliminate it.”

The firm took no steps to clean its plant after the test results alerted the company to the contamination, and the inspection team found problems with the plant’s routine cleaning procedures as well, Mr. Rogers said.

Without putting too fine a point on it, it is reasonable to say this: the people who knew this and chose not to report it have the blood of at least 8 people on their hands.

And from one processed-food issue to another, the week also brought the revelation that studies conducted since 2005 have discovered trace amounts of mercury in high fructose corn syrup:

In the first study, published in current issue of Environmental Health, researchers found detectable levels of mercury in nine of 20 samples of commercial HFCS.

And in the second study, the Institute for Agriculture and Trade Policy (IATP), a non-profit watchdog group, found that nearly one in three of 55 brand-name foods contained mercury. The chemical was found most commonly in HFCS-containing dairy products, dressings and condiments.

Products affected included "Coca-Cola, Yoplait strawberry yogurt, Nutri-Grain strawberry cereal bars, and Smucker's strawberry jelly. The top offender on their list was Quaker Oatmeal To Go." (source and additional links) While such findings don't surprise me given the industrialization of our food production, what worries me is the fact that the research has been showing this for more than three years.

From melamine to this, how many more instances have yet to be publicized (or found) of dangerous contamination in our food stream?

At this rate, Banana will never get to eat a school-supplied lunch again. Come to think of it... she never does.


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


UPDATE

Daddytypes does a good job of tossing water on potential hysteria over the mercury/HFCS issue. In particular, he correctly points out that a lax FDA under the Bush administration can't necessarily be faulted for not pursuing this; it simply wasn't something they were looking into. He also rightly points out that the potential contamination from tuna is much, much higher.

The sad part is that we probably have to assume a certain amount of contamination in almost anything produced in the maze of food processing and preparation. The contamination could be from chemicals included in refining processes or ingredients; carcinogenic residue from cooking utensils; corrupted ingredients; unhealthy additives; and so much more. And as long as our food production complex remains built on (first) business principles and (second) mass industrialization, and as long as these remain a thousand times more important than quality or healthfulness, we will continue to see problems like these.

Monday silliness

Ukuleles. Who knew?





and...

Lifehacking Tip #7,381

Stick to schedules, especially where kids and mundane matters of life are concerned. Using your morning appointment as an excuse to stay in bed a few minutes longer and get your child to school slightly later than usual will almost always mean that you end up making up for lost time anyway.

Friday Fun — the Aimee Mann edition

The fabulous Ms. Mann came on the radio earlier as I was on my way to an aborted PT appointment. A quick survey of her work seemed like a fine way to end the week.

We begin here, far back in the 80s:



Not bad, but then we swing into a stellar run of songwriting and recording...

Cynicism, Insidious Cynicism

Like millions around the globe, I watched our new president's inauguration on Tuesday, glued to the television from the moment the crowds were streaming in before the festivities began to the last moment I could keep my eyes open during coverage of the inaugural balls. There was a brief window when we turned off the TV for a bit of wine and cheese before I trucked off to a PTA meeting. Even at the PTA meeting, though, conversation veered between how cute the kids were and how much they were growing up to wonderment at the events of the day and the general sense of relief generated by two simple, wonderful events: the end of the Bush era and the arrival of President Obama.

How sweet it is to type those words.

Without question, the past eight years were marked by a torpor and a malaise. Adequate was good enough. The lack of events proved the triumph of ideological policies. The opacity and lack of respect shown by the administration for the populace as a whole and their clear contempt for the idea that the government could be a tool for good left us beaten and complacent. As I listened to a piece on NPR last week about Dick Cheney, it occurred to me that I had become so numbed by the cynicism that I had completely forgotten some of the truly egregious things that had happened during the reign of error.

The fact that President Obama's movement has been able to stand this cynicism and complacency on its head is — to my mind — just as powerful as the historical significance of his election. In fact, I'm tempted to say one could not exist without the other. It was his power to inspire millions of people and to engage the communities around the country that brought the change. And based on my conversations in the past few days, it may be that same power that truly helps to lead our country forward.

I have heard and read commentators who believed that Obama's speech did not soar, that it did not rise to the heights he had reached in past speeches. But I have to reject that. The speech we watched was quiet, determined, and powerful. Those who say it fell should watch it again, or read the following:

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions, who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short, for they have forgotten what this country has already done, what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them, that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long, no longer apply.

********

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions.

They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use. Our security emanates from the justness of our cause; the force of our example; the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

*******

We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus, and nonbelievers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth.

And because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

*******

And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside our borders, nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages.

*******

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies.

It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break; the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours.

It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

*******

...What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility -- a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence: the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed, why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall. And why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

*******

At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive, that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet it."

America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words; with hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come; let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

Clear, determined words with one powerful message: Together, we can do better.

Just a reminder, that this...



is a small, wonderful vignette of what brought us to this moment,



a moment that has refreshed my hope in our country. I cannot think of a single moment in my thirty-eight years on this earth that feels as powerful as the moment yesterday when I watched the culmination of the remarkable movement that brought this remarkable man to this remarkable moment.

And when I watched this



I thought of the journeys made and travails survived by so many to bring our country to this place, and I knew that I could only understand a part of the sea of emotion of this day. But what I feel listening to these again and what I hope for our future and our children's future is unlike anything I have ever felt.

Friday Fun - the Monday edition

Considering the import of today and tomorrow, I thought it would be worth honoring history.

From yesterday:


The same song from years ago, for comparison:


More classics without annotation...









I could keep going, but that will do for now...

In the U.S., we will do anything to market anything.

Well... Our auto industry is tanking because they make cars people don't want, and they rely on outdated corporate models and development strategies. Oh, and did I mention that their advertising stinks. All you need to do is watch a football game and count the number of cookie-cutter pick-up truck ads for the latest models which were designed and produced on the assumption that the market for big trucks would never shrink. Thanks to the congressional bailout, though, the companies' marketing budgets are safe — safe to continue trying to sell us on these ever-larger vehicles. Safe enough, in fact, to make an ad as bad as this one...



H/t to Gawker for this one.

Memories

I am back in an organize-and-purge mode to continue what seems to be the neverending process of settling and resettling.In the course of it, I came across a stash of pictures that had been on my office wall in grad school and beyond.

First there was the New Yorker cartoon that I've kept in one writing space or another since the early nineties. It's yellowed and marked with old tape now, but I still couldn't quite rid myself of it.



Then, there was a picture that has followed me for even longer, from the days when I played flute and spent my summers at Interlochen. What's remarkable about this—besides my old preppy look—is the power of the black-and-white printing. Until you've put a properly developed BW print next to the crap that comes out of automatic developers in most photo labs these days, you don't realize the stark contrast—hence the second shot under here, taken from the Staten Island ferry a little over ten years ago.





Then there was the picture of Erik and me at the edge of the Grand Canyon. This one came on a whimsical trip, shortly after we'd both turned thirty and not long before we would both become fathers. Two friends on the edge of a remarkable canyon, and on the edge of remarkable journeys in life.



And last but not least is the postcard I had saved from the motel I stayed at on my first two nights in Fayetteville. I can only imagine the glory The Chief must have seen in its heyday when Fayetteville was first coming up in the world. Imagination is all that's possible because by the time I chose it as an inexpensive place to stay close to the university, it was the refuge of a few transient families and locusts, saved only by the odd addition of one of the better restaurants in Fayetteville. That good restaurants would occupy a corner of dive motels was, in fact, an odd trait of Northwest Arkansas ten years ago. Good times...

Friday Fun — Monday cool edition

Since I'm running late with this, I'll run cooooool with it.



And throw in a little Serge Gainsbourg, to boot...

Trader Joe's and evangelism

Anyone who's known me in the past few years knows how much I love Trader Joe's. Actually, anyone who doesn't know me but visits this blog from time to time probably knows this. I'm not sure I've ever actually spelled out the reasons why I love TJ's and why I will evangelize about them to almost anyone who will listen and who hasn't actually bought into the TJ's cult yet. Here goes...

1. Size This may not be the first criteria most people bring up when evangelizing for TJ's, but it tops my list. At 15,000 sq. ft., the average TJ's is far more manageable and scaled to human needs than your average grocery store (50,000 sq. ft.) or superstore (a terrifying 250,000 sq. ft.). At this size, I can get in and out in a reasonable amount of time. Banana is also easier to manage in a store this size. She can help with the groceries without getting bored. Because things are closer to her scale, she can also take it all in without being as overwhelmed by hundreds of options for cereal/bread/cookies/crackers/cheese/you-name-it.


2. Quality With occasional exceptions, the quality of TJ's products is good and consistent. They have eliminated high fructose corn syrup and unsaturated fats from most (if not all) of their product lines. To the best of their ability, they source even their non-organic products from GMO-free sources. Their non-organic milk is rBST-free, as are most other dairy items. They offer cheeses from grass-fed cows, and their meats are hormone- and antibiotic-free. As a companion pointed out, they even specify the use of animal rennet versus vegetarian rennet in the cheeses. Their frozen foods are generally very good and can be a godsend when you need to pull together a quick, healthy dinner for a tired little girl, or when you need to pull together appetizers for cocktail hour.


3. Cost We finally get to cost, which is where most people start. I can get out of TJ's with groceries for a full week (breakfast, lunch, and dinner for two) as well as a couple six-packs of decent beer and a couple bottles of wine for a hundred dollars. Certainly some items cost the same as they might at one of the large supermarket chains, but there are many staples like pasta, yogurt, cereal, cheese, and juices that I can buy for significantly less at TJ's.


4. Customer Service I cannot emphasize enough the importance of customer service in this list. When managers and employees show genuine enthusiasm and are consistently friendly and helpful, the whole experience improves. When they go out of their way to pay attention to children with (healthy) treats and hellos, shopping becomes more fun than a chore. And any parent who has ever taken a kid grocery shopping will probably agree that keeping a kid happy in a grocery store is priceless.


5. Variety TJ's may not have hundreds of options for every item, but I don't necessarily want or need hundreds of options. They have the staples in enough variety that I can generally find what I need. Then there is the constant flow of new, interesting products. Whether it's cheese, prepared food, wine, ice cream, or you name it, there are inevitably moments in every shopping trip when I come across something new and worth trying. As a creature of habit who occasionally needs to be wrenched out of my habits, I appreciate this. I can say the same thing for shopping at Whole Foods, Ellwood Thompson (our local natural market), or the farmers market, but I cannot say the same thing for the standard supermarket chains.


6. Green awareness I've found them to be very good about the use of recycled materials and about developing and using smart packaging. They are also very good about sourcing from sustainable sources. That said, I do wish that their use of packaging for fresh items would be more limited. All the smart packaging in the world can't change the fact that you're still adding waste to the trash stream.

In the end, my only quibble with TJ's is that they are consistently going into locations that can only be reached by car and are often in the exurbs. Such decisions are short-sighted at best and indicate a strategy that ignores the smaller urban areas where their core customers congregate. In Richmond, for example, a store placed in or near the Fan or near West End would perform phenomenally — and would show a nod to green economy. All one has to do is walk around the neighborhoods on recycling day to see how many TJ's bags are out. Hell, you could have done that before the Richmond store opened and seen the numbers of people who made regular treks to Northern Virginia and Hampton Roads for their TJ's fixes. I know; I was one of them.

The CPSC bows (a little bit)

Just picked this up from Consumerist. It looks like the Consumer Products Safety Commission has seen the light a little bit:

Large manufacturers and retailers say the cost of testing will not be a burden. But small businesses such as handmade-toy shops and thrift stores say the requirement would force them to spend tens of thousands of dollars to test products such as clothing, in which the threat of lead is almost nonexistent. Many thrift stores said they would be forced to stop selling children's clothing or close altogether.

The commission's two members (a third seat is vacant) voted tentatively to exempt:

• Items with lead parts that a child cannot access;
  
  
• Clothing, toys and other goods made of natural materials such as cotton and wood; and
  
  
• Electronics that are impossible to make without lead.

The commission also tentatively approved a rule that clarifies how it determines exclusions from the law.

Emphasis mine.

More Corporate Madness: How "helping" our kids could hurt in the long-run

I've been hearing rumblings on DaddyTypes and from my friend Phil who makes toys (among other things) about the law that the Consumer Products Safety Commission has drafted to go into effect on February 10. Considering my usual interest in small producers and quality products versus the marketing muscle of mega-corporations, I will take a mea culpa on not paying closer attention until this post. Apparently, the law affects toys and clothes, and it may be retroactive to extant items — whether or not they contain lead.

The law, aimed at keeping lead-filled merchandise away from children, mandates that all products sold for those age 12 and younger — including clothing — be tested for lead and phthalates, which are chemicals used to make plastics more pliable. Those that haven’t been tested will be considered hazardous, regardless of whether they actually contain lead.

Effectively, what the government has done is to ensure that small producers — anyone from a single maker like Phil to a small company with small revenues — must go through the same costly testing requirements as the corporations whose shoddy practices caused the problem in the first place. Word on the virtual street is that many producers simply won't be able to afford to make and sell their toys or clothes anymore. And that you may not be able to find and buy all those gorgeous handmade kids sweaters, blankets, wood toys, felted animals... you name it.

Do a couple searches or head on over to the Handmade Toy Alliance for more information.

UPDATE: Here's a good post from Consumerist on it with a couple good links beyond...

H/T to Neatorama for catching my attention.

Does everything need to be redesigned?

I bought the game Sorry! for Anna for Christmas. It was a game I figured we could both enjoy, and so far my instinct proved right. One thing bothers me about the game, though: the redesign.

This was the game I remember growing up:



And this is the game as it is currently designed:




The older version certainly needed a little updating. The design showed it's age, but what Milton Bradley did was unconscionable. Whoever designed it threw every trick in the book at it.

Grunge design has been all the rage the past few years, and the trademark splatters are here. Big cartoonish design has made a comeback too; the big outlines and super-splashy "Bam," "Pow" stars speak to that. And don't forget about half-toning; some of that's thrown in for good measure. Then there's the odd turn to a retro, space-age feel with the circles and gradients and bubble effects with circle outlines thrown on top of them. The cherry on top of that particular sundae are all the extra arrows and line elements that come from the little techie elements that felt fresh ten years ago. And don't forget about the updated cool-retro typeface—the name of which escapes me now—on the cover, the requisite handwriting font to give it the fun marketing splash of a printed Post-It, and the crazy-cool type treatments on the game board. To top it all off, there are transparencies everywhere. After all, where would we be without transparencies in contemporary graphic design, right?

Oy.

It all adds up to a redesign that feels like every design cliché of the past five years puked all over the package. In the end, it went from dated-but-readable to so-busy-that-you-have-to-concentrate-just-to-figure-out-what-you're-looking-for. I'm tempted to blame design-by-committee, but in the end it feels more like design driven by marketing. I can almost see the brand and sales managers agreeing that it looks new, fresh, awesome while a designer sits in the studio counting all the layers in his Illustrator files.

navel-gazing

is over for the time-being. I'm returning Impolitic Eye to topics other than my own therapeutic navel-lint. Consider this an addendum to the previously posted list of resolutions. That's all, thanks for playing...

self-sabotage

One of my central goals over the past few years has been to understand why I seem compelled to sabotage myself. Anyone who's read this blog knows that I struggle to hack through and improve my attention to the details of day-to-day life and relationships.

My history of self-sabotage goes back much farther, however, to taking tests ill-prepared to partying before an important exam to not pursuing a good job opportunity until it has slipped away to any myriad of other spots in my life where I feel like could have done better; what I had in every case was an excuse. There was always a reason why I didn't do better or didn't need to do better than I had, and in this way I was protecting myself from something. Usually, I believe I was protecting myself from the need to follow up a success — it was easier to be just good enough and live down to that than to repeat excellence.

In this case, though, self-awareness has been of little use. I know I do this, and yet too often I've slipped back into the self-sabotage habit. I didn't really have an excuse until I came across an article today courtesy of Neatorama and LifeHacker that brought it all into relief. Apparently studying this tendency is a fairly new (since 1978) idea in psychology:

This is one reason that genuine excuse artisans — and there are millions of them — don’t wait until after choking to practice their craft. They hobble themselves, in earnest, before pursuing a goal or delivering a performance. Their excuses come preattached: I never went to class. I was hung over at the interview. I had no idea what the college application required.

“This is real self-sabotage, like drinking heavily before a test, skipping practice or using really poor equipment,” said Edward R. Hirt, a psychologist at Indiana University. “Some people do this a lot, and often it’s not clear whether they’re entirely conscious of doing it — or of its costs.”

This idea that those of us who intentionally stumble aren't always aware of it is dead-on, as is the reliance on excuses. There are innumerable times that I've slipped up even though I knew getting a few more hours of sleep or doing a little more advance work would ensure better results.

Like most aspects of self-growth, you can hope it's just a matter of time before you take what you know and actually uderstand it enough to put it in practice. Sometimes, that matter of time is now.

Resolutions or Intentions?

I was talking over brunch yesterday about New Years resolutions, and intentions was suggested as a better word. I agree. It seems less proscriptive. In any case, my initial thoughts were to get more sleep and take better care of myself — physically and psychologically. The more I've thought about these ideas, the more I realized that they were vaguer than I wanted them to be. So how about some specific ways I can fulfill this? Here goes:

1. Take deep breaths often.


2. Read more books.


3. Do some strenuous physical activity at least once a week.


4. Fold the laundry and put it away when it is finished.


5. Do the dishes while cooking and after meals.


6. Go through the mail when it comes in rather than when "I get the chance."


7. Do something — play a game, help with a project, go to a museum, etc. — with Banana as often as possible.


8. Challenge my habits.


9. Create something — art, writing, music — once a month.


10. Finish a task before going on to the next one.

Friday Fun — Schoolhouse Rock! edition

Banana got the Schoolhouse Rock! DVD for Christmas, and we've been watching them constantly since. It's been a delicious little nostalgia trip. So delicious in fact that the question of what to do for this week's Friday Fun was dictated by a few of the songs that have been rattling through my head for several days...

Happy Newwwwww Year

By all accounts, the paella turned out well. In fact, the entire evening turned out quite nicely, from the dinner party portion with kids enjoying Shirley Temples and adults sampling champagne to the dinner itself to the black-tie cocktail party up the street. I wisely avoided the temptation of whiskey and followed my companion's lead on drinking water in between glasses of wine and champagne. And when I arrived at our friends' house to pick Banana up post-sleepover, I found her sitting in her nightgown with a Happy New Year! tiara on her head. It was an adorable image.

On the topic of images, I add this one as proof of dads in formalwear working in the kitchen:

crashing to a close

So, tonight is my first black-tie event in recent memory, courtesy of a neighbor who's been throwing a NYE gala for several years. It should be a grand time. First, though, I have to sort my way through the early evening dinner party and kids while figuring out a whole new way of preparing paella.

Since we have at least two members of the group who eat fish but not more carnivorous options, I've dropped the chicken and the chorizo from the usual preparation. Instead, I'll build this year's paella around squid, clams, mussels and shrimp. There will be asparagus and peas in it, as well as home-roasted peppers. For a bit of a nod to southern traditions, I may also throw in some black-eyed peas. We'll see how the mood strikes as I'm working on it.

If it all comes off well, it will be a hell of a way to ring out another year of lessons in life, and a perfect introduction to a year that I hope brings even more positive steps forward for Banana and me. What that means exactly is hard to say, but I am determined to get even better about paring our life down to essentials and being more mindful and better about getting things done.

skating

I watched Banana really push herself at skating today. It helped that she had new (to her) skates and that we had a friend along (thanks, Eileen!) who was a polished enough skater to teach her a thing or two... like skating backwards. I realized one of the things that worries me about Banana, however.

As anyone who knows us or regularly reads this blog knows, she is an independent, head-strong little girl. Her usual reaction to being told she should take lessons or join a team is to say that she already knows how to do whatever-it-is. She will then, as she did today, demonstrate her version of whatever-it-is. Sometimes she's successful; sometimes not. I have yet to figure out how to convince her that someone can teach her how to do things better—and why that's valuable.

Granted: she's a smart, headstrong six-and-a-half year old. Still, I worry that she will follow my path. That is to say that she will follow the path where she does just enough to know she can do something well and then veers on to something else.

As I explored in an earlier post, it's a tricky question—this question of how much to push, how much to encourage, and when to let something go.

Notes from the holidays

Some days as a parent you feel like a super hero. Some days you feel like a super villain. I guess the key is finding the balance—remembering that at the best moments you will stumble and the worst moments you will do better. That said, here are some mental notes from the holiday season...

• A girl will fall in love with a pair of cool new boots. She will wear them every day. Gift success...


• It will be very interesting to see how many brands and/or retailers survive the current recession and holiday season. The sales are absurd. The discounts are so deep it's impossible to imagine how brands like Jos. A. Banks will maintain profitability and viability.


• The grocery shrink ray hit Reilly's food. California Naturals shrank the mid-size bag of their Herring and Sweet Potato food from 20 pounds to 15 pounds. The price remained the same. As a result, the per-pound cost went from $1.50 to $2.00, and the longevity of a bag is reduced from three weeks to two weeks. I appreciate the company's need to deal with rising costs, but I do not appreciated such a drastic loss in value for the consumer.


• Mad Men is an exercise in excellence.


• Once you accept that the holidays are about more than an orgy of consumerism, it is easier to see the beauty of the season. What it really comes down to is the ways in which any one of us can make the people around us feel better.


• Your grandmother's traditional dishes come out better when you stop reading the recipe and remember how to cook and how they tasted when she made them.

There will be more to come later...

A Good Day

Christmas this year began with my Grandmother's Swedish meatballs on the eve. It was a mopey start, however, because Banana was going to be with Mére until mid-day on Christmas. Even so, the meatballs and gløg came out well. In fact, I'd almost say they were the best I've ever done. Practice does make perfect, as my grandmother's example showed.

Christmas morning was a bit mopey as well as it is less fun to wake up without a kid chomping at the bit to open her presents. Nonetheless, I got up, made coffee, and worked at finishing up Christmas preps. Then a wonderful thing happened: Mére called to say that Banana wanted to come over earlier than planned. I had to race a bit, but things came together and I even managed to get showered before they showed up.

What followed was brilliant. Banana was naturally excited about the spread of presents—though in reality it was less this year than last year. Better yet, she was excited about everything she opened—from the stocking gifts to the Schoolhouse Rock DVD to the iPod Shuffle (pink, with her name engraved on back) to the Hanna Andersson outfit (including boots) to the framed picture of her ballet group from the spring. Honestly, it was sweet how she reacted to each and every one, and it was even sweeter that she made a point of saying "Thank you" for each and every one she knew was mine. And when it came to the Santa gifts (iPod and Pixos), she was beyond happy that Santa had remembered what she'd asked for.

The second part of our day — the day with the extended family — was mostly drama-free, too, which helped turn this into a grand Christmas. Ultimately, what made it great was the sense that the people who mattered — including my ex-father-in-law who came over for a bit while Mére rested — all had a grand time. Cynicism aside, it truly is a wonderful life sometimes.

Best Buy

On Friday, I tried to reach three Best Buy stores. Unsuccessfully. My goal was to find out how I could place an order for in-store pick-up in Ohio. After finally calling the main customer service line, I learned that there is, in fact, no way to place an order that someone else will pick up. This seems like something that should change...

Friday Fun - another Muppets edition

TV in the holiday season wouldn't be the same without the classic run of kids' holiday specials. There are many that bear repeating, and there are others that probably never should have existed in the first place. And there are others that I frankly wish would be repeated...







And kudos to them for doing this in German...



********

And Neatorama reminds us that there was also once a Fat Albert holiday special. I'd forgotten that one...

a foot grows in the brain

No kidding. A pediatric surgeon was operating on a three-day old baby and...

"The foot literally popped out of the brain," Grabb told TheDenverChannel Wednesday.
The appendage threatened the newborn's life.

When [Dr. Paul] Grabb performed the life-saving surgery at Memorial Hospital for Children in Colorado Springs, he was in for another surprise: he also found what appeared to be parts of an intestine in the folds of the infant's tiny brain, in addition to another developing foot, hand and thigh.

Picked up from Boing Boing.

Bleed the World

Brilliant satire via Boing Boing:

art and pondering

These pieces are both more than two years old. Banana was not quite four when she did them. I'm still amazed by the control of line and image. In the bird, the use of color is surprisingly good.





I keep these near my desk at work. As much as any picture I have of her, these are my constant reminders of what faces me and what I'm responsible for day after day, week after week. The talent and potential are remarkable in all children. I remain constantly aware that it is my job to foster that rather than hinder it.

Without a doubt, my parents did what they could to foster my interests and talents. I went to Interlochen for summers when I was a teenager to study flute and later composition. My parents enrolled me in gifted programs and Saturday enrichment classes. I had piano lessons. We traveled extensively. For all this effort, though, it was the Nikon EM my father bought me in ninth grade that probably most influenced me — well, that and all the time we spent in bookstores and around computers.

What I mean to say is that I've started to see all of the time spent on music and the sciences as mis-placed energies. While I was being given every chance to succeed in those areas, I was also doodling. When I dove into Dungeons & Dragons, one of the things I most enjoyed was designing and drawing maps; another was meticulously painting those little lead figures we all collected. And while I was doing this, many of my musician friends would obsessively practice, and some of them have gone on to careers in music. My experience was different: when I got to college and out from under my parents' expectant eyes, I stopped playing and switched to theater.

This is where the camera comes back into play. In those years, I also took picture after picture, and in my last year at Interlochen, I was one of the photographers and editors of the camp yearbook, Scherzo. With the exception of showing up for classes and lessons, the flute was all-but-ignored. The camera was my companion. And when we were doing the design, photo cropping, and paste-up in the layout meetings, I slipped into the element that I would return to again and again until it became a profession in the mid-nineties.

In recent years, I've come to realize that the areas that truly interested me were not the areas I was exploring. My one regret for all the years I spent at Interlochen is that I never took a single visual arts class. Same with college. Why? I don't know. I was trained to pursue certain areas and not others. Even my mother acknowledged as much when I broached the subject with her. The fact was my parents didn't recognize what I was showing an interest in, and I didn't tell them that there were reasons why I didn't practice nearly enough. In the end, though, none of that can be changed. What's done is done; what I've learned on my own over the years, I've learned on my own.

Fast-forward to my life as a parent. I have a child with remarkable creative talents and not-inconsiderable scientific experience and knowledge. The latter I can only foster tangentially; her mother is a better resource there. On the creative (and athletic) side, however, I've made some clear decisions. I will do whatever I can to support the things she actually shows an interest in, but I will not push her in area once she's said she doesn't want to pursue it. Currently, this means I am supporting ballet, art, and possibly ice skating. Soccer and piano are out so far, as are other musical pursuits—though she has shown an aptitude there. And as long as she keeps working and wants to keep working at her ballet positions and her drawing and painting, I will do whatever is within my means to make sure she gets as far as she can. I just won't decide what she should or should not be doing, and I will not push her past the point she decides she's not interested.

Hopefully, I'll see years and years of elephants and birds—or at least brilliant ideas and solid achievement.

subway junkie porn

If you love turn-of-the-century New York and if you obsess over the history of subways, this video picked up from Gothamist is pure crack.

Friday Fun - the Cowboy Junkies edition

So I used the next band on my shuffle to determine this week's Friday Fun, and I picked a few of the top clips that allow embedding. Enjoy. I do.

exhaustion

Banana has a habit of waking up early. Today took the cake: 4:55 a.m. What's particularly odd is that she went to sleep almost an hour later than usual. The early wake-up—particularly since she insisted that I should get out of bed too—was a surprise to say the least. And since I am emphatically not a morning person and find it difficult enough to get out of bed at the usual time (6:15), I am not dealing particularly well with this recent trend.

note to self...

Most Chinese takeout food tastes the same, whether it's Richmond or Fayetteville or Bloomington. I don't know why I even bother any more. It's not like I'm ever really satisfied by looking at the same menu again, or like anything I eat remotely resembles the real stuff I ate while traveling in China. (A special exception is in Charlottesville. Then again, they only serve dumplings, buns, noodles and soup.)

Days like this make me miss living in New York and Boston. Just saying...


(Shot borrowed from here.)

the great Christmas debate

We live, of course, in a consumption-driven society. Getting, wanting and spending are the drivers of our lives. We live between the poles of want and need, and there are even whole sections of kindergarten curricula dedicated to discussing the difference between desires and necessities. But there is no other time of the year when it seems to become as crucial to consider the want vs. need question than at Christmas time.

Banana and I talked the other day about what she was going to ask for from Santa. The list was short, only three items. At the top of the list was an iPod. At the bottom of the list was a complete Littlest Pet Shop set. Believe it or not, I'm okay with the iPod. Shuffles are $49—not inexpensive, but also not bank-busting. When it came to the Littlest Pet Shop, however, I suggested that she probably shouldn't ask Santa for it. Since the summer we've been periodically purging toys, and several Littlest Pet Shop items have been purged. She said she'd play with the complete set, and with all the self-assurance that six-year-olds possess, she told me that the complete set was very different from the other stuff. I persisted a bit longer in part because while none of these things are needs, I am acutely aware that I want to spend money on things that will be used and would much rather spend the same amount on something that she will use for the foreseeable future rather than a few months. (The Polly Pocket racing set from last Christmas is a prime example here; friends play with it more than she does.)

So that brings us to the boots. Does Banana need $60 boots from Hanna Andersson? Probably not. But there are two reasons I will splurge. First, compared to the Circo boots at Target or similarly disposable items for a third of the price, I'd rather spend more on something that won't look worn out in two weeks. I also see a value in teaching her to look for higher quality items that last longer rather than seeing inexpensive as better. Second, I realized recently that Banana is seriously lacking in little girl clothes. She's been wearing more jeans this fall, but when she gets the chance to "girl up" she does. And I realized that her dearth of more-stylish clothing is a direct product of my pragmatism. Just as I'd rather spend more on a few better-quality items, I also tend to spend money on clothing that is more "practical."

The thing is, a little girl should be able to look like a little girl — even if she lives with daddy rather than with both parents. So these boots and the faux shearling coat she'll be getting from Grandma? They're also an effort to remind myself that life isn't all about jeans, sneakers, and fleece jackets.

life costs $40

Lately, I've been hit with a series of random and unexpected expenses—water filters for the coffee maker, water filter for the refrigerator, arthritis meds for Reilly, an impromptu dinner with the family, the Christmas tree, a batch of random necessities from Target, membership dues in the Ad Club. To a one, these expenses keep hovering in the forty dollar range. Individually, none of them are budget busters, but taken together and with other random expenses that have popped up lately (vet check-ups for old dogs can be expensive!), I'm suddenly in that uncomfortable position of realizing that Christmas is coming and I'm going to have to be a little more budget-conscious than I was expecting. Then again, it's probably time to sit down and take a close look at the budget line-items again.

Friday Fun

Good stuff. Maybe you can figure out my mood.

RIP Odetta

There's a remarkable interview the NY Times did with Odetta in 2007. It's a remarkable piece of oral history with some brilliant insights into her life and mind, and a few amazing moments of song. There are some pretty amazing moments of song here too:

oddly sad

The post on Craigslist is titled "i need a digital camera for my daughter for christmas." In it, the poster offers: "i have 2 leather jackets for trade i mens dress jacket medium ,i ladies dress jacket size small both black." I may be reading this completely wrong, but it strikes me as very emblematic of our current moment that someone is looking to barter his and his wife's leather jackets for a digital camera for their daughter. I know what it's like to feel so close to the bone. Had I been able to upgrade to the SLR I'm looking for, I would offer him my point-and-shoot for free...

brings tears to my eyes

I hope for this little boy's sake that he will not be able to remember the the horrific events he just witnessed. By the same token, I hope that he will retain some glimmering memory of his parents before that day.

Friday Fun (on Monday morning)

I don't know why, but this one came to mind yesterday. It's a classic...



And while we're in the land of odd covers, how about a ukulele cover of "Come Sail Away"? Why not? Come on...


(picked up from Boing Boing)

continuing journeys

A whirlwind trip of five days to Ohio and back is liable to make one feel like this:



In truth, despite traffic and very mild family dramas, something like this characterizes the trip much better:



I'm a bit tired to write more tonight. Suffice it to say for now that it is nice to feel old enough to return "home" without feeling all of the pressures, petty dramas, and angst associated with such journeys. It's also pretty amazing to turn around and look at your kid and say, "When did you get to be so big?"

On Going Home

I haven't considered Dayton home for many, many years. Still, it is the place I spent many of my formative years, and it is the place where I return once a year for a sort of homecoming. It is one of the places where I never have to think about how to get some place, and one of the places I stand a fair chance of running into someone I've known for more than thirty years.

That said, it is always a strange, somewhat challenging experience to return "home."

dreams into reality?

I know that I as a kid would have been ecstatic to have a jet pack. I'd still be ecstatic as a 38-year-old.

There is no parachute. There is no safety net. There is no air bag. But there is 800 horsepower on my back," said the former TV stuntman who on Monday piloted his hydrogen-peroxide-powered jet pack across the 1,053-foot-deep Royal Gorge.

In a 21-second burst of deafening thrust, 45-year- old Scott soared across the 1,500-foot-wide chasm, setting all kinds of first-ever records in the nascent world of rocket-strapped flight as hundreds of spectators gaped.

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

At 135 pounds, Scott's pack is the most technologically advanced flying machine in existence, said Eric Strauss, the Boulder aerospace engineer who designed it. Strauss was almost hyperventilating after Scott's successful traversing of the Royal Gorge. So many things were uncertain, he said in a whisper.

It's just cool, just so cool.

foodblogging on cold, rainy night

We had some pork chops from Faith Farms thawed in the fridge, and some fresh, local cider that was about to turn the bend. Having read Elegant's recipe for cider-sauced pork chops, I decided to marry the two. From Elegant's recipe I dropped the cider vinegar and the whole grain mustard as these might make the dish a bit too tart for Banana's palate. In their place, I used a splash of orange juice to add tartness without the extra bit. The accompaniments were roasted tri-color confetti potatoes and whole garlic cloves with olive oil, salt, pepper, and paprika, and steamed green beans.

The result? Banana declared the potatoes "famous" and the pork chops "excellent." I love my kid.

*******

Part 2...

In the refrigerator were the following: chicken carcass and carrots, parsley, shiitakes and kale all just past their prime. Add a couple quartered onions, salt, pepper, and water. Turn the fire on high. Wait approximately half an hour and your house fills with the smell of jewish penicillin. Once the initial boil is finished, turn down the heat to a simmer and let simmer for at least 8 hours. At that point, add water and any other spices to taste and raise to a boil. Turn the heat off and allow the stock to cool. Strain and freeze until the next cold.

Bigfoot wanted to play a little Chopin.

What a brilliant little mystery. A piano and a bench at the end of a road in the woods. Too heavy to be moved by one person. Set with the bench ready for playing. And best of all: apparently in tune. Perhaps the ghosts of Thoreau, Frost, Lowell, Dickinson, and Emerson were planning to gather and play us into an apocalypse ringed with maple and black flies.

Authorities in Harwich, Massachusetts, are probing the mysterious appearance of a piano, in good working condition, in the middle of the woods.

Discovered by a woman who was walking a trail, the Baldwin Acrosonic piano, model number 987, is intact -- and, apparently, in tune.

Picked up from Boing Boing, story here.

Friday Fun - The Darwin Awards edition

Just one more reason to love the interwebs...

Really?!?

Apparently, today is World Toilet Day. I am not making this up. Really. If it's a joke, it's a well-designed joke. To quote the site:

Toilets deserve better social status. WTO has been striving to elevate the status of toilets to make them status symbols and objects of desire.

Really? Wow.

a new 'puter?

So, Impolitic Eye has decided to expand our arsenal of computers by a factor of one. The thing is I can't decide between

• A new 13" MacBook, or


• A refurb 15" MacBook Pro (last generation), for the same price.

Any thoughts? Votes, suggestions, and comments are welcome.

oh, the memories...

When I first moved to New York, I gravitated to writing in dive bars and cafes. Often writing in a cafe would lead before long to pulling up at a bar and dropping my manuscript on the bartop where I would continue working and beginning drowning the caffeine buzz with pints of Guinness. The best of the dive bars were cheap places where you could go in the daytime and be left alone. Bartenders at these places tended to be generous with buybacks every third or fourth drink. "Cheers," they'd say as they left your money on the bar; the less loquacious would just tap the bar. The only exception was probably the Holiday Cocktail Lounge on St. Marks. The bartender was never generous and the place was too dark for an aspiring young writer trying to slide down the gullet of New York to work in, but the Holiday had its other charms.

The bar that became my muse, however, was Milano's. The old men who came there had known the daytime bartenders since before their wives had passed and when they were still working men. There were regulars who'd grown up around the corner and came back to drink after they moved out to Queens. There was a bartender named Maggie who liked to talk for hours, which was great until the day she kept serving Jameson's with the conversation—never saw a bill for that one and barely remember getting home. There were the happy hours when the owner showed up and bought rounds for everyone in the place, and I swear the bartenders just figured out a fair price sometimes.


The price for the nostalgia, however, was that I stopped being a productive writer. I had to learn my lesson, had to stop going there, had to realize that for all the "character" I thought I was learning about in those times, I was also losing something.

So, yeah, I have a certain nostalgia for dive bars, but I don't have much nostalgia for what dive bars do to people.

My (Sporty) Concession

A week and a half ago, I took the 2004 Jetta in for its 40K service. Our local VW dealer had just gotten in a new shipment of cars, including a few Jetta SportWagens. I've been tempted by these since they were announced late last year. Well, it just so happened that one of the models had a manual transmission—still one of my requirements for a car.

I drove the car and found it stiff but sporty. The engine had a good bit of zing, and the car felt as stable as any I've driven—more like a couple of Audis I've driven than the last generation Jetta. It was also remarkably roomy inside. In the end, I played with the financing and thought through one basic issue: the '04 Jetta was coming out of its warranty, and I probably couldn't handle any major service bills that might come up, at least not in the foreseeable future.

In the end, it just came down to a decision to take one more step to putting the past behind me, and I came home in this:



I will admit I've had some moments of buyer's remorse—moments where I wonder if I should have stubbornly stuck out paying off the 2004 and moments where I wonder if I've made the ultimate concession to parenthood and approaching middle age by getting a wagon. In reality, though, neither is really a good reason for remorse. Paying off the 2004 would have been an honorable activity, but might have not have benefitted me in the long-run. And the wagon question? Well, the reality is I need to haul a kid, a dog, and all the stuff that goes along with those responsibilities. I also hope to get back to more active, outdoor pursuits, and a wagon just works better for that.

In the end, though, I'm a dad. I'm almost forty. I'm an adult in need of adult trappings. Would I love to have the cherry red GLI with its 6-speed gear box and 220+ hp engine I looked at before buying the last Jetta? Sure, I would. But that one will have to wait for the day Banana inherits our well-used, paid-for 2009 SportWagen... in 2019.

God help us all...

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

One other thing I should add: I love the car. It truly is fun to drive. And when we came home from IKEA and Trader Joe's this weekend, there was room to spare. Time to add the Apple sticker...

dinners

My standard for dinner preparation is increasingly being held up to two standards: taste and ease of preparation. Banana crashes too early and I'm too fried after an average day to pull together some of the complicated meals I've tried in the past. Beyond that, I've begun to embrace the power of simplicity. To that note, tonight's dinner.

Center-cut pork chops from Faith Farms, kale and peppers from Victory Farms, and couscous. How many extra ingredients and preparations? As few as possible.



I added a little sea salt and cracked pepper to the pork chops before searing them in butter in the Calphalon Everyday Pan (my best kitchen purchase yet). After they were browned, I added some white wine, and once the pan was deglazed and the wine cooked off, I added a bit of balsamic vinegar. Total ingredients: 6

I briefly steamed the kale and peppers, then poured off the water and added a pat of butter and some salt and tri-color cracked pepper. I would have added a bit of lemon if I had any fresh. Total additional ingredients: 2

The couscous simply had butter and a bit of cracked pepper added. Total additional ingredients: 1

In the end, the meal was remarkably simply and easy-to-prepare. It tasted delicious—even though I omitted garlic for the evening, and was as local and healthy as possible. Banana even asked for seconds.

good stuff

First Saturday in November. Apples. Dads. Kids. And finally, beer.

The apples were courtesy of the Vintage Virginia Apple Harvest Festival in North Garden, south of Charlottesville. And the beer was courtesy of Blue Mountain Brewery.

The owner and brewmaster of Blue Mountain was with Goose Island in Chicago for several years before moving to the South Street Brewery in Charlottesville. He's turned out some really nice beers at Blue Mountain now. Their pale ale is excellent. The kolsch is nice and light. And the nitro porter is excellent. I also enjoyed the growler of aged hefeweizen I brought home. In addition to some nice brews, they have a stellar location looking out to the Blue Ridge and link in nicely to the locavore movement by growing their own hops and serving as much locally produced food as possible on the limited menu.



What I also appreciate, though, is the space they've created. The room is open and inviting, with big windows looking out to the deck. Because it's non-smoking and fairly sedate, it's also a very parent-friendly environment. In fact, it's exactly the kind of place I wish we had here in Richmond: a place where adults and kids can relax, eat, socialize.



My only complaint (and suggestion): Two dollars for a bowl of mini pretzels? Really? Kind of absurd. They should be free. Really.