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Archive for the ‘Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country’ Category

One Giant Leap

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , on July 21, 2015| 2 Comments »

Yesterday was the 46th anniversary of the Apollo 11 Moon Landing, and last night Bob and I watched the “Apollo Wives” documentary on PBS. It was a fascinating trip down memory lane for anyone old enough to remember where they were on July 20, 1969.

I was in a basement apartment in Cambridge, MA with a my roomie Alicia. My own wedding was on the horizon, and the moon landing was on a small black and white TV in the corner of our apartment. I remember feeling awed and wondering if the footage had been slowed down, because the effect of zero gravity didn’t translate to my brain.

Bob called me soon afterwards, to see if I had watched. There were no DVRs or recording devices to play back such a monumental moment in time. If you missed it, you’d have to wait for the next day’s evening news show. I had to remind Bob I was marrying someone else. I wonder if he remembers?

That August, Bob had to chase his own stardust at Woodstock:

The story of Woodstock, slice it how you will, is anti-Darwinian; nature suspended her processes of selection, and everyone more or less lovingly muddled through. Such menaces as there were seem to have been collective—the dodgy brown acid, the lack of sanitation, the rain that left concertgoers huddled under (packaged in?) sheets of clear plastic. When Sri Swami Satchidananda, ochre-robed, inaugurated the proceedings on August 15, he proclaimed the imminent oneness of everything: “America is becoming a whole!”  http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2009/09/woodstock-nation/307611/

America became whole when a man landed on the moon, but we didn’t know much about the military/astronaut wives back in the day. The press paraded their pretty faces in the back pages of newspapers. The drinking, the Valium and the divorces were kept under wraps. It was a watershed year for women, do you go all “Stepford Wife” or do you continue your education and put off marriage? Burn your bra, or pull up your girdle and soldier on?

Well there was a little known woman, an MIT scientist, behind the design of the software that made that Apollo mission possible. Margaret Hamilton and her team wrote the code for the computer’s guidance system on board the rocket. When NASA thought they may have to abort the landing, she figured out the computer’s memory was being overloaded with too much inconsequential data – she taught them how to prioritize! Landing went to the top of the list – isn’t it ironic?!

And this was when computers used “core rope memory” which was woven in a laborious process by hand, by women in factories…hence the male engineers called these memory programs “LOL Memory.” And it wasn’t because it was humorous. LOL stood for “Little Old Ladies.” http://www.vox.com/2015/5/30/8689481/margaret-hamilton-apollo-software

So here’s to you Margaret Hamilton! For going where no woman had gone before. And here’s to every girl who takes a science or a math class and loves it! In Catholic school, and later in high school, I was never given that opportunity. It wasn’t until college that I discovered I loved science. Back in 1969, I thought my future was secure. I’d be the wife of a Harvard lawyer and create cocktail parties to beat the band. Luckily, I woke up.

Margaret Hamilton

Margaret Hamilton

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Feminist Food for Thought

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , on July 16, 2015| Leave a Comment »

Lately, I’ve been thinking about food. Is it theatre, is it purely sustenance, or is it love? This morning at daybreak I clicked on an article about “Gay Chefs” on Slate. I read the whole piece on my phone, which I will rarely do. It was an interesting historical take on how gay men never had anything to prove when they cooked. Unlike women, who were trying to prepare a home cooked meal for a family on a budget and satisfy a husband at the same time. And by the way, start working outside the home too if you don’t mind. Hence the invention of the crock pot!

The Gay community treated food like fun; they enjoyed entertaining at home because as a whole they were living a secret life. They loved Julia Child, and lovingly mocked her Queenish mannerisms.

Then the 80s hit and AIDS took its tool on such frivolity. With the beginning of cooking shows on TV, and finally a whole channel devoted to food, macho male chefs took over the airwaves. Spices were added to dishes by yelling “Bam!” and cooking wars became de rigeur. An Englishman yells at us, an Australian wants us to get healthy. If we saw a woman chef on TV, we were lucky to maybe get Nigella Lawson on BBC. Finally along came Ina Garten, a woman who looks normal and not quite goddess-like. She prepares good food, she’s the real deal! Plus, I must admit I like her approach. I just made her pesto before I left Cville.

Keep it fresh, keep it simple, keep it fun.

And now I’m watching “Chef’s Table” on Netflix while Baby Boy naps. http://decider.com/2015/05/09/chefs-table-netflix/ It’s exactly what we’ve been missing. Foodies everywhere must be rejoicing. A Japanese American woman, Niki Nakayama (LA, California) creates a truly Japanese restaurant that doesn’t serve sushi. There is a folding screen between her kitchen and her dining room because in her culture, women are not chefs. And she is mad about that, but also sensitive to her customers. She talks about her older brother telling her it probably won’t work out – which only made her more determined.

Certain doors were always closed to women, but bit by bite, we slowly opened them. Cooking should be done to please yourself, your own palate. And of course, I’m making the Love Bug Mac and Cheese tonight, from scratch. Just because.

This is what eating a fresh peach feels like!

This is what eating a fresh peach feels like!

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Smoky Mountain Drive

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on July 12, 2015| 2 Comments »

Here we are again, on the road to Nashville. Trucks pulling into the left lane just as I approach another hill, Dollywood in the rearview mirror. And I know y’all are wondering what in God’s name is she listening to now, in that wilderness between Cville and Nville, what’s the latest podcast all the young’uns are tuning into?

While loading up the car this morning, the Bride called me to say I just HAD to download Marc Maron’s WTF podcast. She said that time would just fly by, and I had to listen to his interview with Terri Gross. Maron is a comedian, granted one I’d never heard of, but I love Terri Gross. Her voice could put me into a catatonic state, and I mean that in a good way. She is arguably one of the best interviewers on the planet; little did I know her life story would mimic mine in so many ways.

Terri is a bit younger. Hailing from Brooklyn, I had no idea she was Jewish. She graduated high school just two years after me, in 1968. But she dropped out for awhile to hitchhike across the country! Now I used to hitchhike up at Camp St Joseph in the Catskills, but to San Francisco for the summer of love? She talked about being on the forefront of the feminist movement; her first radio job was on a feminist radio station. She had a starter marriage too. She even tried teaching – check, check, check!

I found it interesting that she chose not to have children, because she felt she couldn’t accomplish her career goals. I vaguely remember those days; young feminists thought you couldn’t have it all, the fantastic career and a family. It was either one or the other. We thought children were our responsibility alone, that marriage was a construct with little chance of success. If we wanted the whole package, it was best to give up our dreams for awhile and work at supporting our spouse, Stay barefoot and pregnant, baking cookies. For alot of women, the dream deferred ended in divorce.

Remember that crack about cookies from Hillary? Not every woman had a Harvard law degree and nonstop childcare.

Listening to Terri talk, it took me back. My brother, sister and I were just on a conference call last Sunday talking about what our lives might have been like if our Father didn’t die in 1949, and our Mother wasn’t hit by a drunk driver later that summer. Would we all still be living in PA? Would Kay have been an early airline stewardess/lipstick feminist? Would Jim have become a psychologist? Would I have chosen to stay at home with my children, and write for a local newspaper? Would I have raised a daughter who thinks she CAN have it all? Or a son who wants nothing more than to make music?

Ms Cait and the Rocker sent me an interesting test to gauge my political persona and help me decide who I should vote for next year. I thought for sure I’d be a staunch Hillary supporter, but surprisingly my political leanings are toward Bernie! Now  Bernie Sanders is not even on my radar since he continues to sound like an NRA lobbyist; and even more than feminist issues, gun control in 2016 will be my litmus test. Still, if you have the time the test is fun – http://www.isidewith.com

And to find out more about Bernie’s life in the Green Mountains of Vermont – http://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2015/07/bernie-sanders-vermont-119927.html#.VaGtoYuCaFI

Bob in the Blue Mountains

Bob in the Blue Mountains

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The Hat Trick

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , on July 7, 2015| 2 Comments »

When the Rocker was two years old, we moved back to our home state of NJ. It was a tricky transition. I loved and still love New England. I love the kind and fiercely independent people; I love the weather, a little like the Emerald Isle; I loved Martha’s Vineyard in the Spring and Tanglewood in the Summer. And believe it or not, I loved the Winter. We would ice skate on frozen ponds and go cross country skiing out our back door, through a bird sanctuary. And the Fall foliage was like no other.

It’s true you can’t go home again, but I wanted to keep something of the Berkshires for my transplanted babies in NJ. Instead of driving to the Big Apple Circus in Lenox, we took the train to Lincoln Center. And instead of skating on a frozen pond, I signed the Rocker up for ice hockey when he could just barely carry his own equipment bag. I would sit and freeze at the Jersey Shore rink, watching him skate like he was born with blades on his feet.

That was the first time I heard of a “Hat Trick.” And for the rest of my days I thought it was a hockey term.

Until Sunday night. World Cup Soccer was the cap on a dismal Fourth of July weekend – my Fourths are almost always dismal – (Bob working the Fourth and our Year of Living Dangerously culminating on the Fourth with the Flapper’s car accident combine to make this holiday less lovely for obvious reasons).

Anyway, I was kvelling over Carli Llyod’s third blistering mid-court goal in the Women’s World Cup Soccer game, and I heard the term again. She had scored the first three goals in the first 16 minutes of the game! I missed the first one because I was feeding Ms Bean, but immediately caught the replay. Bob then returned home from the hospital to find me hopping around the living room, twirling my dish towel like a banshee!

The U.S. was the superior team through and through. Not content with four, it scored yet another goal — an easy finish by Tobin Heath in the 54th minute. It had had seven shots on goal to Japan’s four.

Much of the credit goes to the U.S. goalie, Hope Solo.

http://edition.cnn.com/2015/07/06/football/womens-world-cup-final/

Before ice hockey, I was the Rocker’s pee wee soccer coach. I cut up the oranges before games and tried not to act like ALL the other male soccer coaches. Sometimes cruel, often not fair, and loud as only NJ coaches can be, I was the Yin to their Yang. Since I had to look up this complimentary Chinese philosophy, to make sure I was using the phrase correctly, I was amused to find the feminine form “Yin” is the negative force?! Huh? “Yin is negative, dark, and feminine, Yang positive, bright, and masculine. Their interaction is thought to maintain the harmony of the universe and to influence everything within it.”

Believe it or not, the term Hat Trick originated in 1858 by Brits playing Cricket, whenever someone got three wickets, whatever that means, they scored a Hat Trick. Fans would collect money to buy the champion Hat Tricker a new hat back in the day. http://mentalfloss.com/article/65863/where-does-soccer-term-hat-trick-come

Well ladies, my hat is off to you! To the Scarlet Knight from Rutgers, Carli – to the Huskie from U of Washington, Hope, – to the Gator from U of Florida, Abby. To the two UVA Cavs on the team, my heart has been officially won! And anyone with a little girl in love with soccer, here are the top colleges for future World Champions, and UVA is number 2! http://college.usatoday.com/2015/02/20/these-are-the-10-best-d1-womens-soccer-schools-in-the-u-s/

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Food Police?

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on July 2, 2015| Leave a Comment »

When you see an obese child, what do you think? Do you immediately blame the parents, and/or poverty? There is no fresh produce to be found in their neighborhood, or maybe you think the parents are just lazy…What if we make school lunches more nutritious. Let’s get Jamie Oliver into every school cafeteria and teach those lunch ladies how to steam vegetables! Get a communal garden going outside the gym!

I find it fascinating that the GOP is all about getting government out of our way for free enterprise. They start yelling “fascist” whenever Mrs Obama wants to see kids get off the couch and move, or a school system tries to change what a school lunch may look like – don’t tell us parents what to do with our kids! Get government out of our lunch boxes!! We know what’s best for them, and if a parent wants to leave a gun lying around well…and then I picture a two year old yelling I WANT TO!!

Bob tells me he rarely mentions weight to one of his patients, after all he is not a family practitioner. But when he sees a severely obese child, he may say something to the parent in the ER. Because this is such a serious health risk, he risks that patient’s dismal satisfaction score. Not all doctors have the courage to tell a parent they are endangering their child’s health. Luckily, the rate of childhood obesity in this country is finally leveling off:

After a steady rise for many years, the number of calories American children take in each day is going down. Childhood obesity rates, though still too high, have now leveled off, and are starting to go down in some populations. The 5 billion school lunches served each year are more nutritious than they were a decade ago. Children are eating less processed food and drinking less sugar-sweetened beverages and full-fat milk.  http://www.cnn.com/2015/06/30/opinions/clinton-brown-healthy-kids/index.html

So yes, we can put juice in vending machines and model a healthier diet for our youngest children: by including them in food prep and offering fresh, real food; by sitting down to dinner as a family (an almost insurmountable task these days); by going to farmer’s markets or even helping them plant their own little tomato plant in a pot. I’ve mentioned my neighbor Kath the food blogger before. I love the way she has introduced real food to her toddler, he http://www.katheats.com/ways-motherhood-has-changed-me

Still, I think about how my Foster Mother Nell really didn’t cook, she would jokingly say she could open a can. Women in the 50s were sold that bill of goods – TV dinners on a tray, canned vegetables with marshmallows. Life was supposed to be “easy” for the 50s housefrau. They grew up watching their mothers actually grind meat on the dining room table, and wash clothes by churning them through a semi-automated washing machine, or maybe they were hauling clothes down to the creek? Why shouldn’t they get to vacuum in high heels!

And all I ever ate for lunch in high school was tuna sandwiches and potato chips, followed by a cheeseburger at White’s Drug Store immediately after school, with fries dipped in gravy… SO, canned food, semi-fast food, and I was never fat, in fact I made spaghetti for myself at night cause I thought I was too skinny! Those were the days, before babies, before menopause packed on the pounds.

We can all teach ourselves to prepare a healthier diet, we don’t need an RD to work up a meal plan. If there are no markets with fresh veggies in our neighborhood, we could plant some in pots. What we cannot and should not do for our kids is model complacency. What my generation had was the ability to walk to school, to go out on our bikes after school and not come home till twilight. We had the freedom to move, which this next generation may lack.

Kudos to the city planners and engineers who are redesigning parks and playgrounds all over the country. And bravo to the police who are walking beats and making neighborhoods safer and crime-free – not by stopping and frisking but by stopping and talking.

And maybe we could have a course at the police academy on nutrition?

Basil is ready for Pesto

Basil is ready for Pesto

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Mobility of Content

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , on June 30, 2015| Leave a Comment »

The first time I heard this phrase, “The mobility of content,” was yesterday while driving along the most glorious mountain views of Albemarle County. It was a sunroof-open-mobil moment on the good ole fashioned radio. I was listening to NPR and an interview with the creator of Netflix, talk about how they came up with the idea of original content. Most people think “House of Cards” was their first original pilot series. But no, Little Stevie’s “Lilyhammer” was being produced in Norway; they were six months in, when The Boss’ bestie cringed at the idea of releasing all of the Scandinavian mob-driven drama at once. Think of it like a record album, Steven Van Zandt was told, and so we begin.

While celebrating Ada’s 91st birthday, I grabbed her iPad and told her, “You’re gonna love this.” Ada has been a Marriage and Family Counselor for almost as long as I’ve known her. In fact, when she returned to school in the 60’s, thereby creating a role model for all young feminists in the NY/NJ metropolitan area, I had just started dating her son. “It’s about two couples, Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin play the wives,” I crooned in her ear. I had just finished semi-binge watching “Grace and Frankie” on Netflix, a comedy about divorce loosely, and I wanted her to enjoy it as much as I had. https://www.netflix.com/title/80017537

Now I hate to get prejudicial, but for the most part I’d bet not many octogenarians+ know from streaming content. Ada is unique, in many ways, but her tech skills are particularly excellent. She gets her news online and in paper form, she shares photos and corresponds via email, although she prefers actual phone calls! She can Facetime with her Great Grandchildren in Nashville, and now I’ve got her on Netflix! We only watched two episodes of “Grace and Frankie” while I was there,  but I’ve got a feeling this woman who wrote her dissertation on humor in conflict, will become addicted in no time.

My guilty pleasure is watching “Bloodline” late at night when Bob’s working the evening shift. I’ve plowed through all the original content Netflix has to offer, “House of Cards,” “Orange is the New Black” and yes, I even started out long ago with “Lilyhammer” when we first got our Apple TV. I can watch Netflix on a plane, on a train, or even in the rain. I don’t like to watch on my phone however, even though “Lawrence of Arabia” has been watched on cell phones worldwide more than any other content. Imagine that.

But “Bloodline” is skeeving me out. It’s Shakespearian in its ethos, a family tragedy enfolding in the beautiful Florida Keys. If you want to see what drug/alcohol addiction is really like, how it can corrode character from the inside out, just watch Ben Mendelsohn play the “bad” brother Danny. And our Albemarle neighbor, Sissy Spacek, is compelling as the Rayburn family matriarch.

“Bloodline” is cleverly constructed, but a lot of the mystery hinges on Danny. Mr. Mendelsohn (who made his name in the United States in the Australian crime drama “Animal Kingdom”) is suitably inscrutable — his character is a quicksilver manipulator who can seem benign one second and malevolent the next. His good looks are bleached out by bad behavior, and only his smile, wryly sweet but fleeting, restores his boyhood charm. At his best, Danny seems well-meaning and misunderstood; at his worst, he looks a little like a middle-aged Robert Durst.     http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/20/arts/television/review-bloodline-on-netflix-depicts-a-family-with-nasty-secrets.html

Since we can carry our entertainment with us, wherever we go, and now not just with Netflix, but Amazon, Hulu, Google and even HBO will be streaming content, http://www.digitaltrends.com/movies/best-media-streaming-sites-services/ I wonder how this will change story telling. Or is a good story a universal thing of beauty, passed down in its oral tradition from generation to generation, since we could paint an image on a cave.

Scene From a Birthday

Scene From a Birthday

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Beyond Contempt

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , on June 23, 2015| 2 Comments »

An interesting word, “contempt.” It implies dishonor, and three more D words – disdain, disgrace, and one may even result in being despised. It’s a strong word; if you should find yourself in contempt of court you may find yourself in jail. But contempt is a step beyond the worst case, like despair trumps depression. Which is why it was so contemptible for an Alabama Congressman to use such semantics on a radio show recently.

Republican Rep. Gary Palmer told a radio host he thought it was too soon to be calling for the removal of the Confederate flag from the SC memorial in front of the state house. He just kept clinging to his Southern tradition as he elaborated:          “…people that have an agenda seeking to exploit a tragedy…to me, that’s beyond contempt.”

Now granted, I’ve taken my time trying to exploit this particular tragedy, one in which a white supremacist zealot sat in on bible study in a black church in Charleston, SC for an hour, and then executed nine people in cold blood. When I saw the picture of that deranged 21 year old, my first thought was, “He’s crazy as a loon.” And news junkie that I am, I followed right along with the debate. Should this be called an act of terrorism, or a hate crime? And I think you know which side of the fence my sentiments were falling right? Because to me it’s no worse to kill someone in a house of worship than in their own house – or in a Kosher market or a movie theatre – or in a college or an elementary school.

Why has no one asked the important question over Father’s Day weekend? Why did the shooter’s father buy him a handgun for his 21st birthday?! Most parents can tell when their kid is going off track, and from all accounts this particular young man was sending out all kinds of clues. But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the mentally ill will always be with us, but how crazy are we Americans for not doing something about gun violence in this country! We had a legislator in this state who was attacked by his psychotic son, with a knife, because guns had been taken out of the home. Can we not agree on background checks at the very least? https://mountainmornings.net/2014/01/26/political-willpower/

A debate about the Confederate flag only serves to pollute the waters. Yes, I agree the Rebel flag belongs in a museum. I was semi-shocked to find it flying on houses in rural parts of the South still, but that involves private property and if I want to fly a cardinal flag outside my house I have that right. Do we fly a Nazi flag outside the Holocaust museum? A blogger I admire, who happens to be African American and Jewish, posted a comment online that the erosion of voting rights in the South should be our priority, and not where or what is on a flagpole. And I get it, I really do.

When our President must use the N word to make his point, and shrugs his shoulders to show he has little political leverage or will left to fight the gun lobby, well I just wanted to cry. That was after listening to the families of the #Charlestonshooting forgive the killer. What should we forgive him for exactly? I’m getting out my rosary beads, and this will be my prayer:

 “Forgive us Lord for letting this happen again and again and again”

CIIahHHUwAAuQWt

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Tough Yet Tender

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , on June 20, 2015| 2 Comments »

I was going to write about Father’s Day. About all the great Dad episodes over the years in this family. Instead, it was becoming a list of Mommy fails:

About how I never wanted to say to my kids, “Just wait ’till your father comes home,” and then one day I did. About how I quit  teaching the Bride how to drive. After she hydroplaned her way through five trees and over the Hope Road sign in the rain, Bob gallantly picked up the pieces of my shattered psyche, and taught her how to drive.

But maybe that’s the point? When we’ve had it up to here with the mundane, daily life of children, housekeeping, cooking, laundry, driving, pet care and generalized nursing duties. like picking bees out of the Rocker’s clothes, well a good Dad knows when to step into the fray. The 50s are gone and Father Doesn’t Always Know Best, but it would behoove him to know how…

To calm a frightened child at night

To cook a meal, or pick one up

To do the dishes

To help his child learn to ride a bike, and drive a car

To tutor/help with homework, including advanced math and science projects

To encourage critical and creative thinking

To not mix colors and whites in the laundry

To ease the passing of an old dog over that rainbow bridge

To remind his wife that everything will be alright, again and again, and that she has a partner in all this

And to stick around until that time when it’s just the two of them again, and they can lean on each other

A Good Husband and Father will bend with the wind, above all he must not be rigid and set in his ways. He will put his family first, ahead of his career. He will protect them at all costs. And even if he was hit as a child, he will never hit his children or break their spirits. He would never use words or discipline to humiliate them. And if his Father left, or he never knew him for some reason, this Father will be doubly determined to never abandon his family, he will ride out the storm of life. He will be like that Israeli fruit, the Sabra; an Israeli born citizen named after a prickly pear – tough and treacherous on the outside, but soft and tender on the inside.

I remember dancing with my Foster Father, or really standing on his feet while he twirled me around the kitchen. There was a dogwood tree outside the window, and he would whistle a tune and sometimes play the spoons! I remember playing gin rummy with him almost every night, for pennies. I remember his little presents for me every day when he returned home from work at Picatinny Arsenal – a flower, a pretty rock, or a colored pencil. Ada always said he was a hard act to follow and she was right.

Fatherhood today can be a challenge, a paradox. But when it’s done well, the outcome is pure love. When your children yell, “Watch Daddy, watch me,” all they need is to know that you love to watch them: climb trees; play an instrument;, swim without swimmies; or ride a bike. All they need is your presence. So sleep late all you Dads out there, put down your devices, and then remember to play and have fun tomorrow! Oh and Bob, your second and third Grand Daddy acts are priceless!IMG_1753

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Identity Politics

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country on June 16, 2015| 2 Comments »

Once upon a time, a girl named Rachel Dolezal thought she was black. She sprayed on a tan and permed her hair and that was that. She worked towards racial healing and social justice, until her really mean white parents spilled the beans, which left us feeling flat.

Poetic justice? Karma? What we think about Rachel says a lot about who we are. How does one forge an identity? Politicians of old would play up their status as first generation immigrants. You could be proud to be Italian, or Irish when in truth not very long ago, your last name meant you would be unelectable. I was so proud when Jack Kennedy was elected President. It proved that not all Irish Americans/Catholics were under the Pope’s thumb. 

But Rachel was passing as an African American. She lied and said her father was black. No one has mentioned that not very long ago, light-skinned black women might pass as white. Reconstructing themselves to fit into the class and culture of the majority in order to gain access to all that being white in the early Twentieth Century had to offer. 

So does that mean that today being perceived as black, or mixed race, is more empowering for young white women, offering them more economic and cultural opportunities?

Can we wear our identity in the same way we pick our clothes? I don’t think so. Being true to our “authentic self” is the first order of business in the world.  We might study Spanish, dye our hair black, and live in Puerto Rico, but if our parents and grandparents immigrated from Sweden to MN that doesn’t make us Latino. We can assimilate a certain culture sure, and if we marry into that culture/race the chances are pretty good our children will be able to check that “mixed” box on their college applications. But we are still unabashedly pasty white, no matter how much we may like the music and food of a different race. 

Today is Ada’s 91st birthday. Many in her generation changed their names or even denied their Jewish heritage in order to live in America without prejudice before and after the Holocaust.  Just look at Madeleine Albright. But not Ada, she fought to keep her identity, and when our little Happy Bud had his Bris, I could tell that she was pleased. 

When we all melt into the American pot, sometimes we miss out on the spices that make us the most enticing and liberated country in the world. We need to embrace our differences, add some pablano peppers and cardamom so that we can grow as a nation

Eventually we will all check the mixed box, or maybe that question will no longer be asked – no one race will be marginalized – and then we can truly be “post-racial.” A beautifully pregnant young ER doctor in a Mexican hat does not make her Mexican. 

  

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Gender Bending Bias

Posted in Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country, tagged , , , , , , , , on June 10, 2015| 2 Comments »

Bet you thought this was going to be an essay about Caitlyn Jenner. To spin Dr Henry Higgins, “Why cant’t a man be more like a woman?” But no, this is about the woman who replaced my favorite columnist at the NYTimes (Anna Quindlen). After all, I fashioned my writing at the Berkshire Eagle as a mix of personal and political a la Quindlen for years. But today, let’s talk about Dowdworld for awhile, shall we.

Anyone would think I’d love a fiery, redheaded, post-feminist, liberal writer from a big Irish family. And i did, until things began to change. Ever since the Bride went off to medical school, I’d email her Dowd’s columns, in the same way the Flapper would cut articles out of the newspaper to send to me. “Dowd nails it again!” might be the title of one such email, hoping to keep my daughter’s feminist mind clear in the midst of mind-grueling study. Then, a few weeks ago, the Bride sent me one of her columns; the email header read “WTF Maureen Dowd?”

Well naturally I jumped to Dowd’s defense, who was castigating emergency medicine in print, or digital, or however one reads the Times these days. I replied immediately, “Ok I get it. But she was just quoting an egotistical neurologist who compared body parts to cars. I wouldn’t be so mad at her; it’s an opinion piece and it’s her niece.” As if I was making up an excuse for a beloved elderly aunt, or sister, who slipped up on her medication. But the Bride was really mad, and later sent me the reply to her article by an Emergency Physician.

Today, I’m wondering why Dowd is so Debbie Downer on Hillary. Now she did give Bill a lashing over his indiscretions in the Oval Office. She sounded downright Republican there for awhile, and some blamed this on her Roman Catholic background. Still, one might expect her to be sympathetic to the woman best known in the GOP press for her pantsuits and helmet hair. Conservatives like to throw strong adjectives around about Clinton, like how “secretive” she is, how she gives off an “atmosphere of hostility,” and she holds a “forced smile” while being a “shapeshifter.” And these are NYTimes columnists!

“And oh yeah, “she can’t figure out how to campaign as a woman.” That from Dowd, who has spent her career at the Times personally attacking Clinton.”                                                                                          http://mediamatters.org/blog/2015/06/10/the-curious-way-new-york-times-columnists-are-c/203934

How would you have Hillary campaign “…as a woman” Maureen? After reading this critique in New York Magazine, “The Redhead and the Gray Lady,” http://nymag.com/nymetro/news/people/features/14946/ I may have a clue what she’s talking about, which is to say, I’m very disappointed in you Maureen. Here is the first sentence in this article, you can get the gist: “Possibly, there are even more naked women at Maureen Dowd’s house today than there were when this place was JFK’s Georgetown bachelor pad in the fifties.” 

Maureen to Hillary: “You seem like an annoyed queen”

Me to Maureen: “You seem like the queen of mean.”

images

Dowd’s Vanity Fair cover

Anna Quindlen, I miss you! Because politics isn’t all about money, and power, and sex. Is it?

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