BABY TALK

Our daughter recently sent us a short video of our sweet granddaughter. Given that an ocean separates us, and does not facilitate a quick stop-by to see how she is growing, videos are such a great way to get little glimpses into this new life.  This most recent shows this 2 month old baby trying with all her might to vocalize.  Her mouth works to get into a shape to form words, her eyebrows lift as she really really tries to talk.  And, of course, these dear little ooohs and ahhs come out of her mouth.

Baby talk!  Isn’t it great?

Among the milestones we parents mark are the ways in which our children learned words, and then strung them together into sentences.  Parents record the first word a child says.  Many parents even save some of the precious pronunciations a child makes.  We still joke about our daughter saying CHIK-UMP for chipmunk.  Somehow, it seemed like a suitable renaming. 

A few years ago, I entertained the thought of pursuing a doctoral degree.  We live near a campus of the Penn State University, which offers a doctoral program in adult education.  Now, while I didn’t actually enroll in classes, I started to generate ideas for a possible dissertation topic.  And I came up with one.

I have been fascinated with the way we teach children language by reading or saying nursery rhymes to them.  Many of these rhymes are silly and sometimes nonsensical.  But they do help teach language by repetition, alliteration, rhyming.  So the topic I had in mind was to evaluate the correlation between exposure to nursery rhymes and language acquisition.  Of course, I did not get to a stage of collecting data, so I don’t know if there is a statistically valid correlation.  It stands to reason that the more culturally rich a child’s environs are when she is learning to speak, the quicker her language skills will develop.

For now, my hypothesis about nursery rhymes playing a critical part in language development will have to go unresearched, but maybe I can do a mini-experiment.  You can bet that I plan to get our granddaughter some edition of Mother Goose Nursery rhymes.  And, that I will most certainly read them aloud to her every chance I get.

Can’t wait to hear more baby talk.

WWWP?

Just this afternoon my husband asked me if I had written a blog post recently, and I replied--no.  Well, I hadn't.  I explained that I don't have many new thoughts these days--which is not to say I don't have thoughts...I have many.  But, I am aware that sometimes I cover the same ground.

All was well, and I was content not to have posted anything...and, then--then.  I went to the grocery store.  After I had done my shopping, I loaded my bags into my car, and began to return my grocery cart.  Immediately next to my car was an open parking space, and on the other side of that space was another car, with two women loading up.  They finished as I did, proceeded to get into their car and prepared to drive away.  Just before the driver pulled her door shut, I called out to her--excuse me, this grocery cart (which she had left SMACK in the middle of the parking space between us)--are you done with it?  Why, yes ma'am, she said.  I then asked--did you plan to leave it right there?  Yes, ma'am.  Well I said--I will be happy to return it with my grocery cart, SO SOMEONE ELSE CAN PARK HERE.
 
WWWP?--I thought.

Remember this rant?  WWWP? See, I keep thinking the same thoughts--and more than five years ago, I ranted, err--posted about this very subject.  And I concluded:  what's wrong with people? 

This particular time, the grocery store was all of three parking spaces away from where the thoughtless shopper had parked.  It really was no big walk.  I shook my head as I walked both carts back to the grocery store.  Amazingly, the woman was completely unfazed--and did not even thank me.

I think I must ascribe to the broken windows theory of society.  The gist of this theory is that an unrepaired broken window in building invites more broken windows.  Vandalism flourishes, trash accumulates, and--next thing you know--things fall apart, the center cannot hold.  There is something to this theory.  When you see something treated carelessly, it takes extra effort to treat it carefully.  And it is so easy to imitate the careless behavior and acquiesce to the degradation.

To my daughter's consternation when she was a little girl, I would pick up trash strewn about the floors of public bathrooms.  Trash invites more trash.  Abandoned grocery carts invite more abandoned grocery carts.  Neglect begets neglect.

A saying attributed to Gandhi is: You must be the change you wish to see in the world.  I don't know if Gandhi really said that, but the idea resonates with me.  Do I wish there weren't grocery carts left here and there in a busy parking lot.  You bet--well, then, I have to be the one to take MINE back and sometimes even someone else's.

But, I will still mutter--WWWP?

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Photo:  not mine, but from a site indicating "in the public domain."

The Last Roundup

No, no, no—dear reader—not that last roundup, but the last of my reviews pre-Oscar.  Having previously indicated that, for varying reasons, we did not see all the nominated films, the only two remaining films we saw were ARGO and ZERO DARK THIRTY.

These two nicely pair in a rich compare/contrast approach.  Maybe you recall that when I was teaching, I wrote about giving a compare/contrast question on an exam.  The course was Introduction to Literature (one of my favorite courses to teach) and I presumed that students would have had a basic composition course and would KNOW how to write a compare/contrast essay.  Well, no—I presumed too much.  This incident clearly made a mark on me, as in a previous movie review wherein I wrote a comparison/contrast review of another two movies, I referred to that exam experience.

Anyway—this year’s compare/contrast offering herewith.  Until we saw the second of these two movies—we went to see Zero Dark Thirty first and then Argo—I was thinking all the movies in the “Best Films” category were unique, stand-alone pieces.  Not so. 

Comparing the two films is easy.  They both deal with terrorism or extremism.  Zero Dark Thirty, of course, is about the hunting down and killing of Bin Laden.  Argo is about the infamous takeover of the U.S. Embassy in Tehran at the time the Ayatollah Khomeini first came to power.  Both films are set in the Middle East.  Both feature themes of the United States against the world.  (Thankfully, no one burst into that raucous and mind-numbing chant of USA USA USA during the viewings.)  They are both based on an historical event.

A few more expansive comparisons are in order.  Both movies feature a single-minded character.  In Zero Dark Thirty it is the CIA analyst Maya brilliantly played by Jessica Chastain. In Argo, it is Ben Affleck also as a CIA operative Tony.  Both movies have a happy ending in that the goal that is set out—either to find and kill Bin Laden or to rescue some American diplomats who managed to escape the embassy but not Tehran—is achieved.  To achieve these ends, both of the main characters have to contend with skeptical authorities.  Maya at times seems to be the only one in the CIA who believes she has a connection that will lead to finding Bin Laden.  Her belief is so strong that you get the impression that her conviction alone is what made the operation “a go”.  Tony’s rescue scheme is so fantastical that he has to use his best persuasiveness to get permission to proceed.  And of course, both movies operate on high adrenalin and tense scenes.

One final way in which these two movies align is the reception they have received in the awards giving world.  Both of the directors—Kathryn Bigelow for Zero Dark Thirty and Ben Affleck for Argo were snubbed by the Oscars.  True, they have previously been recognized for their work: Bigelow won as Oscar as Best Director for The Hurt Locker, which also won Best Picture; and Ben Affleck won an Oscar, along with Matt Damon, for the screenplay for Dogma.  But the great shock when this year’s Oscar nominees were revealed was the absence from the Best Director list of Kathryn Bigelow and Ben Affleck.  Since then, Ben Affleck has won several other awards for his directing of Argo, and Argo itself has been selected as best picture.  But the Oscars are always “another story.”

There are also differences between the movies (keeping in mind that a valid compare/contrast must have differences).  While we generally have known the story on which Zero Dark Thirty is based, the story behind Argo was classified for years and years.  There is one fine and wonderfully ironic line in Argo—when the news that the American Embassy workers have been freed, with credit at the time being given to the Canadians, one commentator opines “Why can’t we [Americans] do something like that.”

Another difference is the means whereby the operation at the heart of each movie is carried out.  While both stories begin with the CIA as the intelligence hub, the execution of the plans in each of the movies differs.  Once Bin Laden’s location is determined, it is the military which executes the final plan.  Officially known as The United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group, the group is referred to colloquially as Seal Team 6.  Where previously this group was TOP SECRET, seemingly of late some members can’t shut up. 

Such cannot be said about Tony Mendez, the hero behind the Argo story.  Of course, the movie itself has the CIA doing the planning, and the CIA executing the plan.  It seems at times that Tony is the only one who believes he can succeed.  But he is given the go ahead, and carries out a daring rescue—with a little help from him friends.  These friends include a make-up artist from Hollywood, played by John Goodman, and a composite Hollywood “producer” played by Alan Arkin.  Canadians are also Tony’s friends—several real-life Canadian embassy staff are collapsed into one character played by Victor Garber.  This remarkable story only came to light years after the events, when some of the information was declassified.  Tony Mendez himself kept the secret for years, finally revealing his role in an autobiographical work published in 1999.  Even his receiving of an award was done in secret.

Maybe the difference in who carries out the daring plans explains another contrast between the two movies.  Zero Dark Thirty is a tight, fast-paced movie which moves from early scenes of the U.S. CIA personnel torturing presumed Al Qaeda lower functionaries, to the actual military operation that is carried out with clock-work precision.  Argo has a much looser feeling.  From beginning to end, the rescue scheme is so improbable that the viewer sits gripping the edge of his/her seat, not knowing where the next twist will come from. 

Both movies were very engaging, action-filled, heart-pumping entertainment, well worth the price of a movie ticket and the hours to watch them.

COUNTDOWN--Life of Pi

Up until this point, I have been reviewing the movies in the same chronology that my husband and I used in viewing them.  With this review, I am skipping ahead to the last (and maybe final*) one we saw—LIFE OF PI.  I want to capture my thoughts as close to the viewing of the movie as possible, since LIFE OF PI is a challenging movie.

First, I loved the book.  I had seen the book in bookstores for some time, and finally decided to read it.  And I absolutely loved it.  I might have known I would, as I find every book that I have read which has won the Man Booker Prize to be singular and exceptional.  So it was with Yann Martel’s LIFE OF PI which won the prize in 2002.  But the book was one of the most thought provoking and challenging ones I had read in a long while.  In many ways, the book is a kind of fable.

So, when I first heard that there were plans to adapt the novel for a movie, I was skeptical.  There was so much in the novel that seemed beyond bringing to life through the visual elements of a movie.  But, I was wrong—maybe Ang Lee is the only director who could have done it, but do it he does indeed.

So, what to make of the story?  The plot—which I will eschew from summarizing in too much detail as to do so would  “spoil” the ending—revolves around a young boy named Pi Patel.  He lives with his father, mother and brother in Pondicherry, India.  When we first meet the young Pi, he is tormented by his playmates because of his name—Piscine, which is eventually shortened to Pi.  We also learn that young Pi has a deep interest in religion.  While he is raised as a Hindu, he is also drawn to Christianity and to Islam.  The level of Pi’s interest is not superficial; he is precocious in his desire to encounter God.  This interest in religion is important, as it helps explain one of the meanings of the movie.

His family owns a zoo, which eventually his father decides to sell to help capitalize a move of the family to Canada.  Some of the animals will be transported with them on the same freighter they take to sail across the Pacific.  Among these animals is a magnificent tiger named Richard Parker—not a usual tiger name, but there’s a reason for that name: a simple mix-up on the shipping label for the tiger.  The fact that the tiger has a human name is also important—at least I think it is, once you get to the ending of the book (and the movie).

Part way across the Pacific, the freighter encounters a horrific storm.  Pi has awakened just before the ship founders and sinks, which is one of the reasons why he escapes.  As the storm rages, Pi is practically pushed overboard and manages to make it into one of the lifeboats that is launched.  Perhaps because of the storm, animals are loose on the decks, and Pi is soon joined by a zebra that crashes into the lifeboat.  As the boat begins to move away from the sinking ship, Pi spots something swimming through the stormy water and realizes, to his horror, that it is Richard Parker.  Pi screams NO, and we assume the tiger does not make it.

When the storm calms, we see Pi in the lifeboat, and the injured zebra—which broke its leg in the fall—cowering at the end of the lifeboat.  Soon an orangutan is spotted, floating on a bunch of bananas, and Pi pulls her aboard.  Then, a hyena pops out from under the tarpaulin.  Just as things begin to get hectic—the hyena keeps trying to maul the injured zebra—we hear a sudden ferocious growl –Richard Parker somehow made it on to the lifeboat after all.

So begins the adventure of the perilous struggle for survival on the lifeboat.  The zebra, orangutan and hyena are dispatched, one by one, until only Pi and Richard Parker remain.  But, how to survive on a lifeboat with only basic food supplies and a Bengal tiger? 

Somehow, Pi manages.  He “tames” the tiger, provides food and water for him, and even reaches a kind of détente where he can feel safe with the tiger.  As they drift across the Pacific, they encounter all the majesty and ferocity of nature.  Here, Ang Lee’s directorial strength is on full display.  The movie is one of the most visually stunning movies I have seen in a long time.  I should note we did see the movie in 3-D.  Very much the recommended way to view it.

After 227 days, Pi and Richard Parker finally wash up on the shores of Mexico.  Pi is rescued by people (as he says “members of his species”) who find him exhausted on the shore.  Richard Parker vanishes.  While Pi is in the hospital, recuperating from his ordeal, he is visited by representatives of the Japanese shipping company who owned the freighter.  They want to know why the ship sank.  So they ask Pi about his experiences.  After he relates his story, they look at each other incredulously, and then ask Pi to “tell them the truth, something they can believe.”  So he begins again, and this time recounts a different story.

Upon hearing it, they are again uncertain what to think.  So, Pi says—I have told you two stories about what happened.  Which one do you prefer?  Not which one do you believe.

Ah—there is a key, and the connection to the young Pi’s deep fascination with religion.  For me, part of the meaning of the story (and, trust me, you will come out of this movie wondering “WHAT DOES IT MEAN?”) is that humans are on a quest to experience and understand God.  There are several ways that people have done that.  Are they all true? Is only one true?  Is reality true and fantasy untrue? Or is fantasy true and reality an illusion?  Sometimes it is preferable to accept what is unbelievable than it is to accept what is believable.

As a movie, LIFE OF PI deserves its nomination for Best Picture.  Also, Ang Lee certainly deserves the best director nod.  The other Oscar nominations it garnered are for cinematography and film editing—all of which shows in the visual feast that is LIFE OF PI.

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Editorial Note: MINORITY opinion--my husband did NOT like LIFE OF PI, but he went with me because he knew I wanted to see it.

*Only two more movies to review--ZERO DARK THIRTY and ARGO.  I plan to review them together. But, what about the rest, you might ask.  Well, some we can't see--they are no longer playing in our area (Beasts of the Southern Wild)--AND some we don't want to see (Django Unchained).

ROUND UP--Les Miserables

Periodically, the Academy nominates a musical to stand among the best motion picture nominees.  And sometimes they even win.  The last musical to win Best Picture was Chicago, in 2002.

This year's musical nominee is Les Miserables.

We had seen Les Mis (as it is more easily referred to) twice before on stage, including seeing it on Broadway.  As a stage musical, it is an enjoyable performance with a dramatic historical backdrop, a tale of revenge and redemption, an interwoven love story, a touch of comic relief, and a fair bathing of pathos.  All that plus some quite stirring songs that you can actually hum days after seeing the performance.

But transfer these ingredients to the screen--and what do you get?  Sadly, I think you get a piecework of dramatic vignettes that only just barely hang together.

Several elements work against this movie being a satisfying experience.  First, there is what seems to have been a conscious decision to present the movie as though it were a stage performance.  Of course, a stage is a limited space which imposes restrictions on actor and scene.  Movies are free from these restrictions and can frequently bring a different and vibrant element to making a story visual.  But repeatedly, the way scenes are presented in Les Mis gives you the impression of its being a stage performance.  The most obvious example of this was the decision to have all the singing performed live for the camera--that is, not dubbed in afterwards.  So the camera is constantly right in the face of the actors as they sing.  Sometimes it works well--as when Anne Hathaway sings "I Dreamed a Dream."  Sometimes it just seems forced as when Russell Crowe sings...well, just about anything.

Another example of the staginess is the way the movie goes from scene to scene.  Scenes follow each other with almost no transition--except an occasional "20 years later" or some such other explanatory note.  The effect is more confusing than anything else.   Even the context of the movie is somewhat mysterious.  It is set during times of revolution in France--QUICK--what revolution is this in France?

Did you say the French Revolution?  Well, duh.  It's France, it's revolution--hence the French Revolution.  But, no.  The uprising that dominates the latter part of the movie actually takes place in 1832, the so-called June Rebellion.  Victor Hugo immortalizes this rebellion in his novel Les Miserables.  But for his work, this rebellion would have been a footnote in history.  What the movie presents is even more confusing.

In fact, the way each of the plot elements is presented is confusing.  We have multiple story lines--the intertwined fates of Jean Valjean who serves time for the most minor of crimes and Jafvert who pursues Valjean because...well, it's not really clear why.  There is Fantine who works in Valjean's factory--oh, that's after he is out of prison and becomes a town mayor and captain of industry.  Fantine is fired and turns to prostitution to earn money to support her daughter Cosette who is being kept by the Thénardiers who...oh, never mind. 

I haven't even gotten to Valjean's decision to take in Cosette and raise her as his own daughter, or to the students' rebellion which introduces us to Marius who is loved by Éponine (the Thénardiers' daughter), only Marius loves Cosette...

All of these elements are in the stage version too, but somehow they hang together more convincingly in the stage version.  Here in the movie version, we are presented with scene after scene quilt-like fashion, only the binding stitches are missing.

Another disappointment for me was how some of the characters were portrayed.  The exceptions are Hugh Jackman who is amazing in the role of Jean Valjean, and Anne Hathway who is a revelation as Fantine.  Two big disappointments were Russell Crowe as Jafvert--which he plays with a flat slightly baffled vengeance.  His demeanor seems to be rather like a dog that knows he hates cats, but doesn't quite know why--but, oh look--there's that cat, gotta chase it.  And there's Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter cast as the Thénardiers.  In the stage version, these characters are benignly comic.  In the movie they are manically rapacious and grasping.  The inn scene with them filching practically everything from customers at the inn is--frankly--off putting and disgusting.

I make it sound as though the whole movie experience was a waste.  Well, for the most part the singing is good, at times even stirring--and isn't that what you want in a musical?

ROUND UP--Silver Linings Playbook

Every year, when the Oscar nominations are first announced, there are a few surprises.  No doubt, the nomination of SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK* for best picture was one such surprise.

Several years ago, there was a sudden flurry of independent films--and while SILVER LININGS may not be an independent--it has that kind of feel.  I really enjoy indie films.  Rather than use (or overuse) special effects, violence, mayhem and absurd story lines, indies draw their strength from character development and credible plot lines.

I am thinking about movies such as LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE (nominated for Best Picture in 2006), or LOVELY AND AMAZING (2001) or THE SUNSHINE STATE (2002).  On a recent plane trip, I rewatched IN AMERICA (2002).  I loved it again--having forgotten how touching and sweet it is. 

I itemize these movies because that is the kind of movie that really appeals to me.  Despite that, I was at first reluctant to go and see SILVER LININGS .  I tend to do advance research before going to see a movie--if it is historically based, I might brush up on the historical context.  I certainly read reviews, and check out the tomato meter. 

So when I read the plot summary for SILVER LININGS , I hesitated.  It sounded confusing, even potentially screwed up.  But then I checked the tomato meter--hmmmm 92%.  Well, OK, let's give it a try.

I am so glad we did.  In the movie, we meet Pat Soltano (Bradley Cooper) whose life has come apart.  Actually, he is the one who pulled it apart--he lost his wife, his job, and is in a state institution (mental? penal? both?) as the movie opens.  Soon, his mother bails him out, giving him a chance to put his life back together.  He has no place to go, so he is back with his parents living in his boyhood bedroom.  Not an auspicious beginning.  His sole goal at this point is to get back in the good graces of his estranged wife.

Along the way, he meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), who has as many problems as Pat does.  Slowly a relationship of sorts develops.  Tiffany also has a goal--to participate in a dance contest but she lacks a partner.  Through some maneuverings, she cajoles Pat into being her partner.

OK--enough plot.  I should add that the movie is set in Philadelphia, and being an Eagles' fan is a prominent part of the plot--Pat's father (Robert De Niro) is a die-hard fan.  But, as I said, enough plot.

A quick word on the acting--I had not seen Bradley Cooper in a role before (or seen him in any other way) but I am now a fan, especially if he keeps playing roles such as Pat.  As for Jennifer Lawrence, we first saw her in WINTER'S BONE (oh, another indie--2010) and were absolutely blown away with her performance in that movie.

So see SILVER LININGS .  I hope you will be as charmed as I am.
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*From here on out, I will just say SILVER LININGS .

ROUND UP--Lincoln

Time to do the Oscar round-up.  Every year, part of our preparation for watching a favorite annual spectacle—the Academy Awards—involves trundling off to movies.  We usually compress this preparation into one or two weeks.  This year, we have been a little more leisurely, a little less frenetic.

Even before the Oscar nominations were announced, we went to see LINCOLN.  Whether or not the movie was nominated was of less import than seeing one of the consummate actors of our time—Daniel Day Lewis—at his craft.  Only, we didn’t see Daniel Day Lewis.  Instead we saw a reincarnation of Lincoln—the long wearied looks as the weight of the Civil War grinding on weighs on him; the flex of his jaw as he endures the in-fighting within his cabinet; the twinkle in his eye as he recalls an anecdote that may—or may not—have bearing on a situation before him.

There are wonderful little bon mots sprinkled throughout the highly literate screenplay.  In one scene, Lincoln wanders into the communications area where two young men sit, waiting to send and receive Morse code messages.  Seemingly disconnected from all the action surrounding the scene, and even to some extent the whole movie, Lincoln launches into a rumination of Euclid’s First Common Notion (Things which equal the same thing also equal one another.)  He muses about having been reading Euclid and cites the First Common Notion.  He draws no explicit conclusions.  But to the viewer, a clear foundation is laid down that in deed and fact “all men are created equal.”

The fulcrum of the movie is the fight to get the 16^th amendment passed.  And quite a messy fight it is.  It is both heartening and disheartening to see how contemporary that fight seems.  Update the players, the setting and you could easily see the event as something occurring in our time.

When the Academy Award nominees were announced, it was no surprise at all to see how many nominations LINCOLN garnered—deservedly so in my view.  In addition to Daniel Day Lewis’ powerful incarnation as Lincoln, Sally Fields is cast as Mary Todd Lincoln—a role she plays with a convincing blend of tartness, pathos and touch of insanity.  Tommy Lee Jones is Senator Thaddeus Stevens who eventually had to bend his unbending principles to accomplish something great. 

Finally, kudos go to Stephen Spielberg for directing this movie, and to Tony Kushner for pulling out of the myriad of historical accounts a coherent narrative that is the screenplay.

If you have time to see just ONE of the nominated movies, make it LINCOLN.

Month-iversary

I can't say ANNI-versary, as that refers to year.

But, the newest member has reached one month...

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Happily spending time with our London family...soon time to return home to the U.S.

Meet the newest member--

And her mama--

And her papa--

And the newly minted grandparents--

Grandpa--

And Grandma--

And a grand time was had by all!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

No Small Potatoes

Among some Americans, there is a presumption that British cuisine is…somewhat lacking. Frankly, based on my experience, nothing could be further from the truth. I have not gone grocery shopping frequently while visiting London, but occasionally we have.  Visiting food stores is one interesting way to experience a slice of culture in a particular country.

One of the first times we visited our daughter and son-in-law, we spent a fair bit of time in absolute delight at the Borough Market, which was near their flat at that time.  We loved wandering around the various stalls—in fact, I wrote about thatexperience.  The smells, the sights, the absolute sensual overload. 

On our most recent trip, I went grocery shopping with our son-in-law.  Our mission—procure all the ingredients for a traditional Pennsylvania Dutch New Year’s Day dinner: pork loin roast, potatoes, sauerkraut and applesauce.  The large grocery store we went in had lovely pork roasts, including some from free range pigs.  Really?  Thinking about shopping for meats in my local U.S. grocery store, I do not routinely find free range meats.

And as for potatoes.  Well!  I did recall the Borough Market shopping experience where the vegetable arrays were an absolute feast for  the eyes, with at least 10 different kinds of POTATOES.  Once again, the choices were far larger than I would find in a typical U.S. grocery store.  In the U.S., I might have a choice of ordinary white potatoes, yellow potatoes, redskin potatoes and baking potatoes.

In London, in a large grocery store, my choices were:  “essential” potatoes, “essential” baking potatoes, organic potatoes, organic NEW potatoes, baby potatoes,  Maris Piper potatoes, King Edward potatoes, McCain roasting potatoes, Red Desiree potatoes, Charlotte potatoes, Carlingford small new potatoes, Roseval potatoes and fingerling potatoes.  All of these were the FRESH potatoes.

Our shopping trip was successful—true, we had to go to two different grocery stores to get all the items.  The large grocery store was OUT of sauerkraut.  But, once we went to a grocery that stocked “American” goods, we got the sauerkraut AND the applesauce.

Our New Year’s Day meal was a success.  And my admiration is great for the dedication of English grocers, small and large, whether in supermarket grocery store or open-air market, to stocking a full array of marvelous foods.

Next time someone scoffs at English cuisine—I might just say “it is far better than you know.”  Why, in the U.S., you can only find a few kinds of potatoes.   And no small potatoes!

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 Note the dish with mashed potatoes in the foreground.

 

Getting the Details Right

I am as guilty as the next person.  At this time of year, I love to decorate the house for Christmas, and one of the prized possessions on display is a lovely Nativity set.

Each year, I try to arrange the pieces in as natural a looking scene as possible.  And yet...and yet, deep down I know that I am not getting the details right.

Why? Because it simply didn't happen this way.  How can I say something so outrageous, especially at this time of year.  Because--I will tell you why.

When I was in college, I took a wonderful course in the Gospels from one of my all time favorite professors.  He taught us to read each Gospel carefully and in its own right.  When you do that, you will come to understand that each Gospel was written by a particular author for a particular purpose.  So, the details the writer was selecting were intended to deliver a very specific message.

So, the writers of Mark and John simply skip the Christmas story.  That's right.  Not one mention in either Gospel of any of the details we associate with this time of year.

That leaves Matthew and Luke.  What have we done with their accounts?  Well, we have mashed them together into one grand scheme, rather like a Hollywood production.  Cue the angel Gabriel announcing to Mary what is to come (Luke).  Cue Joseph planning to break the engagement because Mary is pregnant (Matthew).Cue Caesar Augustus sending out a decree to have "all the world registered" (Luke).  Cue Joseph and Mary traveling to Bethlehem where she gives birth and places the baby in a manger (Luke).

So, who tells us about the shepherds?  (Luke)
The angels singing? (Luke)
How about the wise men visiting? (Matthew)
And what of Joseph and Mary journeying to Egypt because Herod plans to kill all the baby boys? (Matthew)

Do you begin to see the issue?  We have taken two separate accounts that do NOT duplicate details and have made of them one story.  And that story gives rise to the nativity scene.

So no where in the Gospel accounts do we ever have a grand scene with everyone coming to the stable.  And what about that stable?  Who tells us about that?  No one.  That too has been part of the presumption.  The brief cryptic statement in Luke's gospel is that the baby was laid in a manger "because there was no room in the inn."  Of course, our presumption is that an inn must have been like a motel, sort of the Bethlehem Marriott or some such.  One writer, however, suggests that what the statement may be referring to is that there was no room in the guest room.  Not quite as picturesque, is it?

In the process we tend to lose the reason that the account in Matthew focused on details such as the visit by the wise men.  And, where did the THREE wise men detail come from? Again, no where--except that there are three gifts mentioned.

We also lose the reason that the account from Luke focused on lowly shepherds.

Oh, I will keep my nativity.  But I won't assume that the story that is being told is one grand continuous uninterrupted narrative.  Because it isn't. 

Telling

We are overwhelmed with the incredibly sad news of the events on December 14 in Newtown, Connecticut. 

One of the most wrenching details for me was about the way frantic parents had gathered awaiting news of their children.  One by one, children and parents were reunited, until—finally—there was only a handful of parents remaining.  While there was a protocol that was to be followed, apparently the governor of Connecticut thought that prolonging those parents’ agony was simply cruel, so he straightforwardly told them—if your child isn’t with you, they aren’t coming home.

Some people have criticized the governor for being so blunt.  But, his approach was the right one.

I don’t know if you have ever been in a situation where you have to be the one to tell the bad news.  I have. 

Many years ago, my father-in-law suffered a catastrophic health event, a dissecting aortic aneurysm.  He was rushed to the local hospital, and family members were quickly summoned.  We all gathered in the critical care unit awaiting news of his status as he underwent diagnostic tests.  During that time, the assembled family decided that someone needed to travel to his home town and be with his elderly mother.  That lot fell to me.

When I reached the home, I tried to comfort Grandma as best I could.  My father-in-law was her eldest child and very much a mainstay for her.  Suddenly, the phone rang.  When I answered, it was my husband calling to inform me that his father had not pulled through, and had died even before he could be operated on.  Something in my tone of voice tipped Grandma off—and, even though “the plan” was to wait until the pastor arrived to tell her, she demanded: Is he dead?

I had a choice—I could have postponed responding, temporizing and delaying the news until the pastor arrived, or I could answer her straightforwardly and honestly.  I chose the latter.

I replied simply: Yes, Grandma, he’s gone.  Immediately she began wailing and rocking back and forth.  After a bit, as I held her, she calmed down a bit.  I read some of the Psalms to her as she quieted.  Of course, my immediate telling in no way lessened her grief, but it gave her immediate information instead of making her stay in a suspended state, fearing and guessing the worst all the while hoping against hope it wasn’t true.

Of course, I don’t know if Governor Malloy was going through a similar calculus, but his decision to tell immediately was a small kindness in the midst of horrific grief. 

Advent

This is a season of waiting.

The church of my childhood was not one to observe the liturgical year.  So, it was with some puzzlement that I slowly adapted to the concept of seasons of the church year--including Advent.  For years, our church has eschewed singing most Christmas carols in services until Christmas Eve.  And for years, I have chafed at this restriction.

I had conversations--not arguments--with our pastor (who is also a friend, and who recently retired) about the available carols that could be sung without breaking that Advent message.  And sometimes we might even sing on of those carols--for example "Once in Royal David's City."

But still, our services during Advent continue to draw on the repertoire of Advent hymns--most of which are in a minor key, and are usually sung in unison.  I guess to appreciate the import of that last description, you need to know that I am an alto, through and through, and I love--make that LOVE--to sing in four part harmony.

"O Come, O Come, Emanuel" or "Watchman, Tell Us of the Night" just doesn't put me in a Christmas spirit.

And then, last Sunday, our new pastor gave new meaning to me that helps me understand and even appreciate Advent.  He said:

 

"The work of these weeks before Christmas, then, this time that the church calls Advent, this season of pregnant hope and possibility, is not so much to prepare for the birth of the baby that happened long ago but to welcome the Christ in us in ever deepening ways. It is a time to get the nursery of our hearts and the manger of our minds ready to engage the ministry of Christ in us more completely and creatively than ever before."

Suddenly, it clicked--and I finally get it. 

When we focus on Christmas--on the birth of a baby--we forget that what preceded that birth was nine months of being pregnant.  Nine months is a long time.  Oh, certainly, it can pass by quickly, but when you are waiting for that nine months to go by, it can be a long time.

A long time for the expectant mother and father.  A long time for family members--grandparents, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, and all manner of cousins.  All waiting.  Waiting for one singular day.  Waiting for a birth.

And so, I now understand Advent in a way I had not understood it previously.  So, thank you to our new pastor for giving me insight.

And thank you to our daughter and son-in-law for giving us a very personal example.  Only a few more days--as we all wait.

50 Shades of Brown

When I returned to teaching college English, I helped select a textbook of essays for students to read and then discuss.  We selected a text with a wonderful variety of engaging essays on a wide array of topics.  One of the essays, written in 1998 by Luis Urea and titled “Nobody’s Son”, included the observation that by the year 2050 “Latinos will be the majority population of the world. Not only will America be ‘brown,’ but it will also be the home of the new Democrats.”

I posed the question to the class—what do you think will happen in the U.S. when the majority population is brown?  Well, swaggered one student, it won’t matter because whites will still hold the power.  And, I swear, he snickered at his brilliance.  Maybe this year, that former student voted for Romney—and like Romney must have been stunned when Romney didn’t win.

Welcome to the new normal, as they say.  Or, as they say—this is not your father’s Oldsmobile.

There have been many analyses of the reasons why the 2012 presidential election turned out the way it did.  I can’t compete with all that greater wisdom, but I find it noteworthy that, as far back as 1998, someone such as Luis Urea anticipated the impact of a political party’s stance on issues would have on voting response.  He wrote: “most Mexican immigrants—both ‘legal’ and ‘illegal’—would vote Republican if given a chance, except the Republicans scare them.”

This wisdom was something that Bill O’Reilly and Karl Rove seemed unable to fathom.  Karl Rove’s meltdown on Fox News was particularly embarrassing, excruciating, and delicious to watch.  Perhaps—like too many Republicans, he has ignored facts for so long that, when faced with indisputable statistical evidence, he simply couldn’t believe that the skewed polls the Romney campaign had been relying on toward the end of the campaign could have been wrong.  But wrong they were, and wrong Rove was. 

When it came to Romney’s explanation as to why he lost, he also ignored the numbers, focusing instead on a variation on his 47% theme.  Obama—according to Romney—simply gave too many gifts to too many groups of people and Romney couldn’t compete with that.  Gifts?  Oh, right—such as forgiveness of college loan interest, or health care, or amnesty for children born in the U.S. or brought here as infants by parents who were illegal immigrants.  Sounds rather like Emma Lazarus’ poem “The New Colossus.”

I found it fascinating if not troubling that Romney saw those things as gifts—with a clear implication that the recipients were not worthy to receive—but did not see his own plans as gifts.  What about more tax breaks for the rich?  What about privatizing some of the essential elements of government so investors could reap the profits?  Romney also didn’t seem to realize that he himself benefits from “gifts”—a tax structure that grants him a far lesser tax burden than it does most of the people he disparaged.

But I digress.

If you want to delve into the numbers a bit more, here’s a fascinating graphic that looks at where Obama’s strength was, and where Romney’s was. Note that the trends that have continued to move in Obama’s favor are voters of Hispanic background. 

We are now two weeks past the election—and Romney has had his say.  Amazingly, other leaders in the Republican Party are distancing themselves from the “too many gifts” approach.  And, some of these leaders are even beginning to recognize that, if the Republican Party is going to survive into the future, it has to begin to reckon with the new normal.  Whites are now becoming a minority—as Bill O’Reilly observed, with a touch of amazement—and now there are fifty shades of brown. 

P.S. Karl Rove's new job (thanks to Farleftside.com)

 

Another One Bites the Dust

Well, it’s happened again. A powerful man is revealed to have been engaging in an extramarital affair. In this instance—the story of General David Petraeus—is a touch unusual. Instead of two women being involved, there are three—the wife, the “other” woman, and the “other, other” woman. So, not a triangle but a square? Rectangle?

The ingredients are so painfully predictable—the man is older, powerful, well-known.  The wife is also older, but for her age does not lend a cache of charm, but a burden of being (perhaps) past her prime.  She has been the home base while the general fought wars overseas.  True, she has her own career, and has made contributions working on alleviating the needs of military families.  Oh, how ironic. 

The other woman is younger, in need of a mentor, and—I wouldn’t be surprised—adept at charming the older man with flattery.  As the story is told, she made the initial contact with the general, and eventually got herself embedded (the irony piles up) with the military in Afghanistan while she worked to expand her doctoral dissertation into a full length book.  With the recent revelations of “the affair” sales of the book have soared. 

As for the other “other” woman, nothing is known—except that she apparently received threatening anonymous emails.  Because of their nature, it seems she contacted the FBI.  And thus began the investigation that unraveled the situation.  Of course, her presence does raise a niggling question—why was she perceived as a threat to the erstwhile mistress?  Don’t even want to go there.

Do you hear echoes of similar recent stories?  The New York Times chronicled the sad litany of some of the name of those involved in these affairs—Alexander Hamilton, Warren Harding, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Lyndon Baines Johnson.  And that doesn’t even bring us to the current transgressors—Gary Hart, William Clinton, David Vitter, John Ensign, Mark Souder, Anthony Weiner, John Edwards.  I even edited this list to shorten it!

So, what’s the lesson? That power attracts? That forbidden fruit is just too tempting? That great men fall? That we are all flawed? That in a digital age, there is no such thing as secrecy?

The truth is—I don’t know.  I do know that this particular revelation made me especially sad—sad for all involved.

It's Not Nice to Fool Mother Nature

I wonder how many of you will recall that commercial from a number of years ago.  The tag line of the commercial was “It’s not nice to fool Mother Nature” whereupon Mother Nature stands up and with a wave of her hands—boom--thunder and lightning.

I couldn’t help but recall that commercial with its closing line as the predicted Hurricane Sandy bore down on the East Coast of the United States.  Even now, a day after the hurricane has blown through central Pennsylvania—on its way to the Midwest—the storm is wreaking incredible havoc.  Manhattan, New York City has been hugely affected—power stations exploding disrupting power, cranes dangling from building construction sites, cars trapped in or out of Manhattan with bridges and tunnels closed. 

Of course, post-hurricane there will be debates—has global climate change made such super-storms inevitable?  I have read enough to know that climatologists are careful to talk about long-term trends, and steer us amateurs away from drawing hasty conclusions about individual weather events being caused by global climate change.  So, they are comfortable attributing the many heat records that were broken this past summer and the widespread extended drought to global climate change.  They are less comfortable attributing a single storm such as Hurricane Sandy to global climate change.

I find this whole topic maddening.  It is emblematic of a weird tendency in the U.S.—the tendency to subject something that either is (or isn’t) to a popularity contest.  So, polls are conducted to determine if people BELIEVE in global climate change.  And, while you might not think something such as global climate change would be an indicator of one’s political leaning, we find that depending on whether you are a Democrat or a Republican, global climate change is or is not happening.  85% of Democrats say there “is solid evidence of warming” as compared to 48% of Republicans who accept that.  (Source: Pew Research Center) (Incidentally, more than 70% of so-called Tea Party adherents do NOT believe that global climate change is occurring.)

Where my anxiety goes off the scale is when the political ramifications come to play in WHO provides leadership in our national governmental structures on these issues.  Where the Republican platform four years ago had an extensive section on climate issues, the whole topic of climate has disappeared from the Republican platform.  Thankfully, the Democratic platform still deals with global climate change.  I know, I know—the platforms don’t mean much.  They simply give a snap-shot of what matters to the respective parties.

It should come as no surprise that our regard for science—or, I should say, our lack of regard—has an effect on our success in science education.  A recent report found that the U.S. is lagging behind many countries in various subject scores.  As the report notes, we might have won more Olympic gold medals, but we aren’t winning gold in education areas including science.  Who ranks first in science?  China.  The U.S. ranks 23^rd.  (Source: Huffington Post article)

I do not blame our public education system for this decline—not at all.  I blame the pervasive attitude in the U.S. that science just doesn’t matter.  After all, you can subject it to a popular vote—if most people don’t believe it (whatever IT is: global climate change, evolution, you name it), then it must not be true.  Not only is it NOT true, but it has to be disputed at every turn.  Layer on top of that scorn a constant drum beat of fascination with the most mindless topics imaginable—can you say Snooky? Honey Boo-Boo?  Boxers? Or Briefs?  (All those topics have been asked of recent candidates for President, where the candidate’s position on global climate change has NOT been asked.) 

Well, Mother Nature gets the last word.  It’s not nice to fool her.