Israel's withdrawal from Gaza and four smaller settlements in the West Bank marks the first time that Israel will pull out of areas that were conquered in the 1967 war and are considered by the Palestinians to be a part of a future state. But many of the settlers here regard Gaza as part of the biblical land of Israel granted to the Jews by God, and the pullout as a betrayal of its finest citizens by the state.
Monday, August 15, 2005
"It's mine! God gave it to me!"
For a little more on how God's will is indistinguishable from "might makes right" - from Times coverage of folks resisting the Gaza pull-out:
Reborn!
I went to bed at 8:30 last night, woke up hungry at 5:30, went downstairs for a few spoonfuls of yogurt and a glass of water, returned to bed, lay awake for about an hour, and just when I decided that I was going to get up and enjoy the early morning, fell asleep until 9 a.m.
Today I feel like a whole new woman! You should have seen me swimming my laps at the gym. I feel so good today that I don't care if this kid decides that s/he wants to stay put long enough to start school by correspondence.
Today I feel like a whole new woman! You should have seen me swimming my laps at the gym. I feel so good today that I don't care if this kid decides that s/he wants to stay put long enough to start school by correspondence.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
God says
From The Times yesterday, "Lutherans Reject Easing Gay Clergy Rules:"
This quote strikes me because my conservative christian brother, a fringe member of the liberal ELCA (go figure, I know, I was hoping this vote would go the other way so he would have to move to a more conservative synod), would have said nearly the same thing if they'd voted to allow gay clergy. One of the things about "faith" that gets me is the extent to which folks feel they need to act as if it is "God's will" that they are doing while refusing to acknowledge that what precisely "God's will" is doesn't seem to be patently obvious, is often a subject of disagreement, and that their personal understanding of God's will is frequently strangely in tune with their own preferences and desires. For instance, Rev. Cady clearly believes that gays in his church want to be ministers because it is God's will. My brother believes that gays will "burn in the fiery pits of hell" (let's ignore the fact that hell isn't particularly biblical) and, thus, any homosexual who thinks it is God's will that they serve as a minister is either very mistaken or, even more likely, working for Satan. In cases where there is a vote on church doctrine, I find myself all the more puzzled - wondering how we know the difference between "God's will" and the tyranny of the majority.
The Rev. G. Scott Cady of the New England Synod said rejecting gays who feel a call to ministry was tantamount to questioning the will of God.
''We have vacant pulpits and altars in congregations all over this country, We have people crying out for pastoral care,'' he said. ''The Holy Spirit has said, `All right, here they are. Here they are.' Are we going to now say, `Thanks Holy Spirit, but we prefer something else.'''
This quote strikes me because my conservative christian brother, a fringe member of the liberal ELCA (go figure, I know, I was hoping this vote would go the other way so he would have to move to a more conservative synod), would have said nearly the same thing if they'd voted to allow gay clergy. One of the things about "faith" that gets me is the extent to which folks feel they need to act as if it is "God's will" that they are doing while refusing to acknowledge that what precisely "God's will" is doesn't seem to be patently obvious, is often a subject of disagreement, and that their personal understanding of God's will is frequently strangely in tune with their own preferences and desires. For instance, Rev. Cady clearly believes that gays in his church want to be ministers because it is God's will. My brother believes that gays will "burn in the fiery pits of hell" (let's ignore the fact that hell isn't particularly biblical) and, thus, any homosexual who thinks it is God's will that they serve as a minister is either very mistaken or, even more likely, working for Satan. In cases where there is a vote on church doctrine, I find myself all the more puzzled - wondering how we know the difference between "God's will" and the tyranny of the majority.
Friday, August 12, 2005
That's your child!
You know how parents have a tendency to point out when their child is not theirs? "That's YOUR son/daughter." usually comes into play when a parent believes the child is exhibiting behaviors that could only be the result of the 50% of genetic information that the disclaiming parent did not contribute. A sociologist by training, I question the extent to which we can cite biology as the sole cause of behavioral characteristics. However, I begin to hope that I am wrong.
You see, my partner likes to do everything early. He revels in living ahead of schedule. He finishes his papers days before his own already overly optimistically scheduled completion date. When we go on a driving vacation, he always tries to get me to leave for the trip the night before we planned and to return early as well. When flying, he frequently shows up at the airport hours early and talks his way on to an earlier flight. He finished college early, he entered the academic job market ahead of schedule, etc.
This penchant for precocity (or "jumping the gun" as I refer to it when it causes trouble), is not something I possess. I like to be right on time, perhaps even flying in under the wire. No need to do things early, I say, because circumstances change and the next thing you know you've created more work for yourself. This is frequently the case when it comes to things like packing your bags for a trip or doing your taxes, but I must say that I do benefit from my partner's desire to be ahead of schedule when it comes to work.
So, my doctor has now returned from a week's vacation. I AM READY. Each morning as I pull on one of the 2 pairs of shorts and 5 shirts that fit, as I struggle to bend down and see what is on the lower shelf of the fridge at lunch, as I treat the blisters that my shoes leave on my swollen feet, I think to myself, "Please, kid, be your father's child."
You see, my partner likes to do everything early. He revels in living ahead of schedule. He finishes his papers days before his own already overly optimistically scheduled completion date. When we go on a driving vacation, he always tries to get me to leave for the trip the night before we planned and to return early as well. When flying, he frequently shows up at the airport hours early and talks his way on to an earlier flight. He finished college early, he entered the academic job market ahead of schedule, etc.
This penchant for precocity (or "jumping the gun" as I refer to it when it causes trouble), is not something I possess. I like to be right on time, perhaps even flying in under the wire. No need to do things early, I say, because circumstances change and the next thing you know you've created more work for yourself. This is frequently the case when it comes to things like packing your bags for a trip or doing your taxes, but I must say that I do benefit from my partner's desire to be ahead of schedule when it comes to work.
So, my doctor has now returned from a week's vacation. I AM READY. Each morning as I pull on one of the 2 pairs of shorts and 5 shirts that fit, as I struggle to bend down and see what is on the lower shelf of the fridge at lunch, as I treat the blisters that my shoes leave on my swollen feet, I think to myself, "Please, kid, be your father's child."
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Jane says
I am reading some Jane Addams right now - doing some thinking/writing about class and race privelege in reaction to "the transmission of poverty" school of thought. I've always thought it fairly peculiar that I did not come across her writings until my graduate training in sociology (in a seminar on American Pragmatism). Had they been introduced to me while I was working on my first masters' at the University of Chicago School of Social Service Administration, I might not have jumped ship on social work. However, I suppose they did not have us read Addams for the same reason that I jumped ship: the predominance of the clinical/professional model of social work in which the client and not the context is seen as that which should be treated.
Anyway, a couple of quotes from "The Subjective Necessity of Social Settlements:"
"[T]he paradox is here: when cultivated people do stay away from a certain portion of the population, when all social advantages are persistently withheld, it may be for years, the result itself is pointed at as a reason, is used as an argument, for the continued withholding."
this one I particularly like-
"We are all uncomfortable in regard to the sincerity of our best phrases, because we hesitate to translate our philosophy into the deed."
Anyway, a couple of quotes from "The Subjective Necessity of Social Settlements:"
"[T]he paradox is here: when cultivated people do stay away from a certain portion of the population, when all social advantages are persistently withheld, it may be for years, the result itself is pointed at as a reason, is used as an argument, for the continued withholding."
this one I particularly like-
"We are all uncomfortable in regard to the sincerity of our best phrases, because we hesitate to translate our philosophy into the deed."
Pasta v. Noodle
I make one particular fettucine dish a great deal over the summer. It contains fettucine (cracked pepper and spinach mixed is best), marinated artichoke hearts, feta, avocado, carrot, red onion, asparagus, and sun-dried tomatoes. I dress it with a balsamic vinaigrette. It refrigerates well and is a real crowd pleaser at picnics and potlucks. My partner refers to this lovely dish as "noodle salad." To which I invariably respond huffily, "It's not noodle salad, it's a fettucine toss or, if you must, PASTA salad." My partner snickers and says with a pompous accent, "Ah, yes, pasta."
Last night we made zucchini and eggplant parmagiana with whole wheat spaghetti on the side. As he was setting up our plates, my partner queried, "How many noodles would you like?"
OK, here is the thing, it is hot and I am walking along with 7-9 pounds of baby under my skin. I am short-tempered and likely to fly off the handle at any moment.
"For god's sake, I don't want any noodles! I would like a small serving of spaghetti! It's PASTA!"
Fortunately my partner, who has grown accustomed to my outbursts, took my obvious emotional upheaval in stride. "When is it pasta and when is it noodles?" he rejoined.
Thus, our dinner conversation turned to decision rules on pasta and noodles. We concluded the following:
1. Both noodles and pasta consist in the main of flour (not only wheat), water and salt cooked in water. Noodles refer to this combination of ingredients in Asian or Asian fusion cooking and in the case of egg noodles. Pasta refers to this combination in Italian-derived and most American cooking.
2. When possible refer to the particular pasta/noodle by name (e.g. fusili, lo mein, rice stick noodle, macaroni).
3. When in doubt as to classification as pasta or noodle, be guided by the name. Macaroni=pasta chow fun=noodle egg noodle=noodle penne=pasta.
Last night we made zucchini and eggplant parmagiana with whole wheat spaghetti on the side. As he was setting up our plates, my partner queried, "How many noodles would you like?"
OK, here is the thing, it is hot and I am walking along with 7-9 pounds of baby under my skin. I am short-tempered and likely to fly off the handle at any moment.
"For god's sake, I don't want any noodles! I would like a small serving of spaghetti! It's PASTA!"
Fortunately my partner, who has grown accustomed to my outbursts, took my obvious emotional upheaval in stride. "When is it pasta and when is it noodles?" he rejoined.
Thus, our dinner conversation turned to decision rules on pasta and noodles. We concluded the following:
1. Both noodles and pasta consist in the main of flour (not only wheat), water and salt cooked in water. Noodles refer to this combination of ingredients in Asian or Asian fusion cooking and in the case of egg noodles. Pasta refers to this combination in Italian-derived and most American cooking.
2. When possible refer to the particular pasta/noodle by name (e.g. fusili, lo mein, rice stick noodle, macaroni).
3. When in doubt as to classification as pasta or noodle, be guided by the name. Macaroni=pasta chow fun=noodle egg noodle=noodle penne=pasta.
Monday, August 08, 2005
pathological
And the life-time achievement award for the sociological turn of speech that does more harm than good goes to
The Intergenerational Transmission of Poverty!
The Intergenerational Transmission of Poverty!
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Book Review: Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer
A friend recommended Artemis Fowl, claiming that the series was fun and similar in many respects to the Rowling books. So, the other day while I was cooling off in the wading pool, I read it.
Artemis Fowl is a 12-year-old criminal mastermind, the youngest member of a wealthy old family of criminals. His father was lost at sea over a year ago and his mother's grief has led her into insanity. Artemis, spurred on the emotional upheaval in his family, hatches a plot to steal fairy gold in order to restore depleted family riches and (perhaps?) be granted a wish. Once Artemis takes action, Colfer shifts our attention to fairyland, and to the adventures of Captain Holly Short (assigned to LEP recon, get it?) and a small cast of characters working to derail Artemis' nefarious plot and repair the breach Artemis creates between the magical and human worlds.
The first of a growing series, Artemis Fowl attempts to provide the intricately woven plots and detailed world of the Potter series coupled with the wit of Lemony Snickett's Series of Unfortunate Events. Unfortunately, the book fails on both counts. Although the premise has potential, the creativity Colfer employed in developing it is largely absent from the book itself. Character development is minimal. For the most part Colfer's characters never depart from the stereotypes he uses to construct them. The pace of the book is quite uneven, at times the storyline drags while at others circumstances with tremendous potential for development are resolved in a sentence or two. Although there is plenty of material for witty commentary on the part of the intermittently present narrator, for the most part the narrator does little but make toilet jokes and point out upcoming twists in the plot.
This book isn't particularly worthwhile so I don't recommend spending the couple of hours it takes to read it unless you're killing time at the airport or something along those lines.
Artemis Fowl is a 12-year-old criminal mastermind, the youngest member of a wealthy old family of criminals. His father was lost at sea over a year ago and his mother's grief has led her into insanity. Artemis, spurred on the emotional upheaval in his family, hatches a plot to steal fairy gold in order to restore depleted family riches and (perhaps?) be granted a wish. Once Artemis takes action, Colfer shifts our attention to fairyland, and to the adventures of Captain Holly Short (assigned to LEP recon, get it?) and a small cast of characters working to derail Artemis' nefarious plot and repair the breach Artemis creates between the magical and human worlds.
The first of a growing series, Artemis Fowl attempts to provide the intricately woven plots and detailed world of the Potter series coupled with the wit of Lemony Snickett's Series of Unfortunate Events. Unfortunately, the book fails on both counts. Although the premise has potential, the creativity Colfer employed in developing it is largely absent from the book itself. Character development is minimal. For the most part Colfer's characters never depart from the stereotypes he uses to construct them. The pace of the book is quite uneven, at times the storyline drags while at others circumstances with tremendous potential for development are resolved in a sentence or two. Although there is plenty of material for witty commentary on the part of the intermittently present narrator, for the most part the narrator does little but make toilet jokes and point out upcoming twists in the plot.
This book isn't particularly worthwhile so I don't recommend spending the couple of hours it takes to read it unless you're killing time at the airport or something along those lines.
what's in a name? (Part II)
Last night I dreamt it was a boy and my partner came up with the name Ran'Ulf or something like that, which he derived from Stargate SG-1 (don't ask me to explain, not only was it a dream, I don't follow SG-1). I was horrified by the name, absolutely horrified.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Martine's questions
Here are my responses to Martine's questions:
1. what is something you'd like to do before you die?
Move back to the island.
2. what is something you likely won't do before you die that you think you might regret not doing, but at the same time don't necessarily plan on actually doing?
Hike the appalachain trail.
3. what is something that you thought you'd like to do before you die, but it turns out it probably isn't that a big a deal to you whether you do it or not?
Write a novel.
4. are you someone who is more likely to regret doing something or regret not doing something? Not doing.
5. what is something you'd like to do before you die and are likely to do soon?
Have/raise a child.
1. what is something you'd like to do before you die?
Move back to the island.
2. what is something you likely won't do before you die that you think you might regret not doing, but at the same time don't necessarily plan on actually doing?
Hike the appalachain trail.
3. what is something that you thought you'd like to do before you die, but it turns out it probably isn't that a big a deal to you whether you do it or not?
Write a novel.
4. are you someone who is more likely to regret doing something or regret not doing something? Not doing.
5. what is something you'd like to do before you die and are likely to do soon?
Have/raise a child.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Expectant
She pointed diagonally across the parking lot, indicating the shortcut which departed from the tree-lined sidewalk and traversed the steaming black-top of the lot. “Walk that way to save yourself some steps.” It sounded to me like an order, not a recommendation. As I complied she looked at me seriously, “You should have a hat on.” I walked on in silence.
Pregnancy is an illuminating experience.
My expectant state seems to inspire goodwill and even happiness in many people on the city streets who look me in the eye, smile, and often even say hello as if I am more noteworthy than the other people walking past, someone to be acknowledged, perhaps even more than just a singular someone. Although sometimes I want to be as invisible as everyone else, I do not mind the smiles.
Others see me as infirm, someone whose mental capacity has dwindled in step with her belly’s expansion. I must be directed across parking lots, told what to wear, what to eat and when to rest. “You should not be carrying that bag.” “You should have stopped exercising months ago.” “It is too hot for you to be outside.” Even as a child, I never took kindly to outside direction. Now an adult, I positively bristle with anger when I receive unsolicited direction, not friendly advice, direction from people whose authority is suspect.
If what I saw at my own baby shower this weekend is any indication, having the baby won’t deliver me from being ordered about. My friend, Anna, hosting the shower has a three-month-old baby herself. My partner’s grandmother began issuing commands as soon as she and Anna were introduced.
“That baby is dressed too warmly.”
“You shouldn’t hold her so much.”
“You need to let her cry.”
“If she eats every 2 hours, then she isn’t getting enough food. You need to start her on solids.”
Shocked that anyone would suggest that Anna’s baby, who is as big as the average baby 2 months her senior and covered with rolls of fat, was ill-nourished, and fearing that Anna was about to cry as a result of the continuous attack on her parenting, I interrupted.
“Actually, Grandma, they say that you are supposed to stick to breastfeeding for the first 4-6 months. Even after that most of the nutrition for the first year is supposed to come from breastfeeding or formula with solid food being introduced gradually.”
Grandma snorts. She is the depository of the wisdom of the ages. “That’s just a fad. If you want to sleep through the night you need to give them cereal, but it sounds like you’re against giving cereal.”
“It’s not me. It’s the World Health Organization, the American Association of Pediatricians, the American Medical Association…”
“Those doctors don’t know what they’re talking about."
"Well... the research shows.."
"You read too much.”
Pregnancy is an illuminating experience.
My expectant state seems to inspire goodwill and even happiness in many people on the city streets who look me in the eye, smile, and often even say hello as if I am more noteworthy than the other people walking past, someone to be acknowledged, perhaps even more than just a singular someone. Although sometimes I want to be as invisible as everyone else, I do not mind the smiles.
Others see me as infirm, someone whose mental capacity has dwindled in step with her belly’s expansion. I must be directed across parking lots, told what to wear, what to eat and when to rest. “You should not be carrying that bag.” “You should have stopped exercising months ago.” “It is too hot for you to be outside.” Even as a child, I never took kindly to outside direction. Now an adult, I positively bristle with anger when I receive unsolicited direction, not friendly advice, direction from people whose authority is suspect.
If what I saw at my own baby shower this weekend is any indication, having the baby won’t deliver me from being ordered about. My friend, Anna, hosting the shower has a three-month-old baby herself. My partner’s grandmother began issuing commands as soon as she and Anna were introduced.
“That baby is dressed too warmly.”
“You shouldn’t hold her so much.”
“You need to let her cry.”
“If she eats every 2 hours, then she isn’t getting enough food. You need to start her on solids.”
Shocked that anyone would suggest that Anna’s baby, who is as big as the average baby 2 months her senior and covered with rolls of fat, was ill-nourished, and fearing that Anna was about to cry as a result of the continuous attack on her parenting, I interrupted.
“Actually, Grandma, they say that you are supposed to stick to breastfeeding for the first 4-6 months. Even after that most of the nutrition for the first year is supposed to come from breastfeeding or formula with solid food being introduced gradually.”
Grandma snorts. She is the depository of the wisdom of the ages. “That’s just a fad. If you want to sleep through the night you need to give them cereal, but it sounds like you’re against giving cereal.”
“It’s not me. It’s the World Health Organization, the American Association of Pediatricians, the American Medical Association…”
“Those doctors don’t know what they’re talking about."
"Well... the research shows.."
"You read too much.”
Monday, August 01, 2005
Basket case
You think I've got it under control, do you?
Well, I've got news for you because it's atomic magnetism, not will, skill, or even luck, that keeps me from falling apart.
1. I am the worst RA of all time and soon the entire State of Wisconsin will be aware of how awful I really am.
2. Midsummer head colds suck.
3. You know how I always swore that I wouldn't allow myself to worry about those things my parents always worried about? How I always said that there were more important things than, well, things? Here I am worrying.
4. I carry most of my tension in my jaw and shoulders - hence the mouthguard when I sleep to save what remains of my teeth and help my TMJ. Days like today insure that I have ground my teeth down plenty before I even hit the sack.
Well, I've got news for you because it's atomic magnetism, not will, skill, or even luck, that keeps me from falling apart.
1. I am the worst RA of all time and soon the entire State of Wisconsin will be aware of how awful I really am.
2. Midsummer head colds suck.
3. You know how I always swore that I wouldn't allow myself to worry about those things my parents always worried about? How I always said that there were more important things than, well, things? Here I am worrying.
4. I carry most of my tension in my jaw and shoulders - hence the mouthguard when I sleep to save what remains of my teeth and help my TMJ. Days like today insure that I have ground my teeth down plenty before I even hit the sack.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Saturday, July 30, 2005
words of encouragement
To all you prelimmers out there, even though I know that you are studying and unlikely to read this post before the event, I wish the best of luck on that heinous exam.
Pending Child, Pending Chaos
My dad is a funny one. It seems to me that he has never really been comfortable with the advisory aspect of the fatherhood role, preferring instead to use encouragement and, perhaps a bit more frequently, shame to move his children in what he feels is the right direction. In rare instances when he is actually concerned enough to issue some kind of warning or advice, he generally resorts to the parable or bottles up his concerns for so long that he ends up blurting them out in the most negative hurtful way possible. I have been working with my dad on this. When he speaks to me about his concerns regarding my siblings, I talk to him about how he might productively share his advice and experience with that sibling. I encourage him to frame the discussion in terms of his own experience - how did he learn what he thinks his child should know?
As a result of all of this, I appreciated this recent conversation with my dad.
"Are you ready for the baby?"
"Well, I guess so. I'm not sure how ready you can be for the inconceivable. We've just done a lot of reading and are trying to accumulate the necessary stuff and all that."
"You know, when I was a new parent, it was quite a shock for me to loose so much control of my life. The two of you are people who always have situations under control and I just want you to realize all of that is about to change. I worry that it will be difficult for you."
"Thanks, dad. I've already got an inkling of that even just noticing all the clutter and the worrying and all the extra responsibilities and we don't even have a baby yet."
"Well, that's just how it is so make sure that you take it easy on yourself."
"Yes, sir, and may I say that you did an excellent job imparting those words of wisdom!"
As a result of all of this, I appreciated this recent conversation with my dad.
"Are you ready for the baby?"
"Well, I guess so. I'm not sure how ready you can be for the inconceivable. We've just done a lot of reading and are trying to accumulate the necessary stuff and all that."
"You know, when I was a new parent, it was quite a shock for me to loose so much control of my life. The two of you are people who always have situations under control and I just want you to realize all of that is about to change. I worry that it will be difficult for you."
"Thanks, dad. I've already got an inkling of that even just noticing all the clutter and the worrying and all the extra responsibilities and we don't even have a baby yet."
"Well, that's just how it is so make sure that you take it easy on yourself."
"Yes, sir, and may I say that you did an excellent job imparting those words of wisdom!"
Friday, July 29, 2005
What's in a region?
The JFW community seems to be having a grand old time discussing the cache Midwestern origins may have in Boston-area dating game. It is an odd discussion for a couple of reasons.
Jeremy's post is primarily concerned with what he should do about his car. He states that folks have suggested a lack of wheels will limit his dating prospects. This is a preposterous suggestion. Many people who manage to get lucky all the time in Boston do so without the benefits of car ownership because many Boston residents do not own cars. Boston has about the most comprehensive and convenient mass transit system in the country. The city is not designed for the automobile. Just one example - if you want to take your date to Fenway for a game, you will quickly learn that, even if you have a car, you should not drive to the game. On the sox website they tell you not to drive. Perhaps, if you have always lived in places where cars are a necessity, then it is difficult to believe that there are places in which cars are not only unnecessary, but, in fact, a nuisance. Boston is one of those places. Just one nuisance example- Boston gets much more snow than Madison and the design of the city makes snow plowing and removal extremely difficult. Not only do you have to worry about finding street parking, you need to deal with an informal system of winter parking space ownership in which folks who shovel out spots designate those spots as their own (using cones, signs, etc).
On the value of Midwestern roots in dating: It should first be noted that most people who have lived their lives on the east coast don't even know the term Midwest (referring to Wisconsin as "out west" or something similar), don't really know anything about what life is like off the seaboard, and don't really think it is important that they find out. They have never given the "interior" much thought because it never occurs to them that it is so different from their own world (the same way that folks who have always lived in areas developed for automobile use don't realize that some places are not that way). I think that most Americans think that the part of the country they live in is quitessentially American and regional differences come as a shock.* There is not much that draws people out to spend a great deal of time doing more than driving through much of middle America outside of Chicago while the distribution of cities, universities, etc, makes it more likely folks from the Midwest get "out east" at some point or another.
As an east-coaster(which, actually, is as false an appellation as referring to everything west of Philly as out west) who has spent much of her adult life in Chicago and Wisconsin, I have observed that the folks who seem to make the most of Midwestern/East Coast differences are Midwesterners themselves. My partner's Midwestern family disdain my vegetarianism and cooking with "fancy"and "spicy" ingredients like pesto and garlic and attribute it to the fact that I'm from the east while, in fact, my been-in-New-England-since-the-white-folks-started-coming family also wishes my diet and cooking were a little more "normal." I was surprised when long-time friends from Madison (originally from Greenbay and outside of Minneapolis) visiting us in Portland last summer reacted with obvious disdain to people they encountered on the street who looked "stereotypically" east coast (e.g. were wearing white shorts and boat shoes and boat hats, etc). Almost every time we came across such people, one of them would make an ugly face and comment about how they must be a Kennedy, wonder aloud what time their next polo match was, or make some comment about how they have probably never been to a Menard's. I finally told them that they were offending me, that the folks they were ridiculing didn't do anything to deserve their disdain and, likely, did not even reciprocate it.
What's the point here? I'm not quite sure. Let me try to sum up:
1. When in Rome - in order to really experience a new place, one should endeavor to live life as the folks who live there live. That way, instead of feeling animosity toward a place and people because of all the ways in which your own taken-for-granted ways of doing things don't work there, you come to recognize and appreciate another orderly way in which life works.
2. Don't vilify people on the east coast for not taking a great deal of interest in the Midwest. For the most part it's simple ignorance. It may be painful to realize that folks think roots or even an entire region are insignificant but, likely, many of us experience similar situations frequently: when our relatives call us teachers instead of professors; folks don't want to talk about our research interests because they have no practical value; or people observe our work flexibility and comment that it is about time we "get a job."
*even the folks from Manhattan are surprised by some of the taken-for-granted things that are lost when they leave the island.
Jeremy's post is primarily concerned with what he should do about his car. He states that folks have suggested a lack of wheels will limit his dating prospects. This is a preposterous suggestion. Many people who manage to get lucky all the time in Boston do so without the benefits of car ownership because many Boston residents do not own cars. Boston has about the most comprehensive and convenient mass transit system in the country. The city is not designed for the automobile. Just one example - if you want to take your date to Fenway for a game, you will quickly learn that, even if you have a car, you should not drive to the game. On the sox website they tell you not to drive. Perhaps, if you have always lived in places where cars are a necessity, then it is difficult to believe that there are places in which cars are not only unnecessary, but, in fact, a nuisance. Boston is one of those places. Just one nuisance example- Boston gets much more snow than Madison and the design of the city makes snow plowing and removal extremely difficult. Not only do you have to worry about finding street parking, you need to deal with an informal system of winter parking space ownership in which folks who shovel out spots designate those spots as their own (using cones, signs, etc).
On the value of Midwestern roots in dating: It should first be noted that most people who have lived their lives on the east coast don't even know the term Midwest (referring to Wisconsin as "out west" or something similar), don't really know anything about what life is like off the seaboard, and don't really think it is important that they find out. They have never given the "interior" much thought because it never occurs to them that it is so different from their own world (the same way that folks who have always lived in areas developed for automobile use don't realize that some places are not that way). I think that most Americans think that the part of the country they live in is quitessentially American and regional differences come as a shock.* There is not much that draws people out to spend a great deal of time doing more than driving through much of middle America outside of Chicago while the distribution of cities, universities, etc, makes it more likely folks from the Midwest get "out east" at some point or another.
As an east-coaster(which, actually, is as false an appellation as referring to everything west of Philly as out west) who has spent much of her adult life in Chicago and Wisconsin, I have observed that the folks who seem to make the most of Midwestern/East Coast differences are Midwesterners themselves. My partner's Midwestern family disdain my vegetarianism and cooking with "fancy"and "spicy" ingredients like pesto and garlic and attribute it to the fact that I'm from the east while, in fact, my been-in-New-England-since-the-white-folks-started-coming family also wishes my diet and cooking were a little more "normal." I was surprised when long-time friends from Madison (originally from Greenbay and outside of Minneapolis) visiting us in Portland last summer reacted with obvious disdain to people they encountered on the street who looked "stereotypically" east coast (e.g. were wearing white shorts and boat shoes and boat hats, etc). Almost every time we came across such people, one of them would make an ugly face and comment about how they must be a Kennedy, wonder aloud what time their next polo match was, or make some comment about how they have probably never been to a Menard's. I finally told them that they were offending me, that the folks they were ridiculing didn't do anything to deserve their disdain and, likely, did not even reciprocate it.
What's the point here? I'm not quite sure. Let me try to sum up:
1. When in Rome - in order to really experience a new place, one should endeavor to live life as the folks who live there live. That way, instead of feeling animosity toward a place and people because of all the ways in which your own taken-for-granted ways of doing things don't work there, you come to recognize and appreciate another orderly way in which life works.
2. Don't vilify people on the east coast for not taking a great deal of interest in the Midwest. For the most part it's simple ignorance. It may be painful to realize that folks think roots or even an entire region are insignificant but, likely, many of us experience similar situations frequently: when our relatives call us teachers instead of professors; folks don't want to talk about our research interests because they have no practical value; or people observe our work flexibility and comment that it is about time we "get a job."
*even the folks from Manhattan are surprised by some of the taken-for-granted things that are lost when they leave the island.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
What's in a name?
As we don't know what flavor of baby we're getting, we need to have at least 2 names in reserve. If it's a girl, we're going to name her after my mother. If it's a boy....we've got a problem. I have 2 names that I prefer but my partner loathes one. He is OK with the other but feels there must be some "dark horse candidate" out there that will sweep us both of our feet. To that end, I have been soliciting names. This morning I received an email from a friend in Sweden with a list of popular Swedish names. Perhaps we should go with one of these?
Oscar
Anton
Emil
Alexander
Lucas
Simon
Linus
Albin
Jonathan
Isak
Gustav
Adam
Marcus
Rasmus
Sabastian
Wilmar
Leon
Melvin
Ludvig
Vincent
Elliot
Alvin
Oliver
Viggo
Nils
Sixten
Anton
Emil
Alexander
Lucas
Simon
Linus
Albin
Jonathan
Isak
Gustav
Adam
Marcus
Rasmus
Sabastian
Wilmar
Leon
Melvin
Ludvig
Vincent
Elliot
Alvin
Oliver
Viggo
Nils
Sixten
Interview
This morning I had the interview for that position I really want. I believe it went well so keep your fingers crossed. I won't hear for a couple of weeks.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Progress
I know you probably don't want to know but I want to tell you, OK?
My stats as of this morning
Weight gained: 19 lbs.
Inches gained: 36
Blood pressure: 100/60
Dilated: 1.5 cm
Effacement: 50%
This is all good news - especially considering that it was just as likely that I would not be dilated or effaced at all! You know what they say, don't put off until labor what you can do before it starts!
All of this good news allows me to hope that I will not be pushing through until September. It would be nice to go sooner than later.
My stats as of this morning
Weight gained: 19 lbs.
Inches gained: 36
Blood pressure: 100/60
Dilated: 1.5 cm
Effacement: 50%
This is all good news - especially considering that it was just as likely that I would not be dilated or effaced at all! You know what they say, don't put off until labor what you can do before it starts!
All of this good news allows me to hope that I will not be pushing through until September. It would be nice to go sooner than later.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
neither here nor there
I don't really have a geographic center to my network of friends. I suppose the biggest collection of close friends is in Chicago - where I have 5 friends and 2 siblings and a whole bunch of other people that I might see every now and then at a party. Other than that, I've got folks scattered somewhat randomly across the globe. One of the difficult things about Wisconsin, be it Milwaukee or Madison, is that I have not managed to make any really close friends here or even establish a significant number of mutual friendships. I used to think that this had something to do with the fact that I haven't been around that much. Now I am beginning to think it's because I suck.
At any rate, today my friend of 16 years, Dawn, emailed to let me know that she was quitting Oxfam to return to Holland. Not too long ago a friend from the U of C, Katarina, wrote to tell me that she was coming back to Chicago from Stockholm for the fall semester. The result: no net gain in proximity to friends.
At any rate, today my friend of 16 years, Dawn, emailed to let me know that she was quitting Oxfam to return to Holland. Not too long ago a friend from the U of C, Katarina, wrote to tell me that she was coming back to Chicago from Stockholm for the fall semester. The result: no net gain in proximity to friends.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Book Review: The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson
The Devil in the White City is a surprisingly interesting account of Chicago's Columbian Exposition (1892) and the activities of a serial killer who made the city home at the time of the fair. When I picked up the book, I suspected that the book's popularity might be due in large part to the fact that the book would have automatic appeal to Chicagoans, particularly Hyde Parkers. Having spent many years in Hyde, Park, the part of the city in which the Exposition occurred, I was particularly enthralled by discussion of many of my own favorite haunts (e.g. the wooded island where I walked my dogs every morning and the Midway).
What Larson does best in this book is drawing the sharp contrast between the "White City," the almost mythical city created for the fair, and "darkness," the chaos of turn of the century urban living exemplified by Larson's villain, serial killer Holmes, but also by the soot and pollution of the trains and factories, disease, economic depression, and the stench and gore of Chicago's slaughterhouses. Indeed, the White City, which, by Larson's account, had a profound impact on America for the next century, deeply affecting the American psyche, architectural styles, and even inspiring Walt Disney's Magic Kingdom and the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, is ever in danger of succumbing to the "darkness."
As for the story of Holmes, as I just indicated, I like it best as symbolic of grim reality. However, if you are into reading about serial killers, you might find it more interesting on its own account.
I highly recommend this book.
What Larson does best in this book is drawing the sharp contrast between the "White City," the almost mythical city created for the fair, and "darkness," the chaos of turn of the century urban living exemplified by Larson's villain, serial killer Holmes, but also by the soot and pollution of the trains and factories, disease, economic depression, and the stench and gore of Chicago's slaughterhouses. Indeed, the White City, which, by Larson's account, had a profound impact on America for the next century, deeply affecting the American psyche, architectural styles, and even inspiring Walt Disney's Magic Kingdom and the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, is ever in danger of succumbing to the "darkness."
As for the story of Holmes, as I just indicated, I like it best as symbolic of grim reality. However, if you are into reading about serial killers, you might find it more interesting on its own account.
I highly recommend this book.
I have returned!
It wasn't that hot (well, it didn't FEEL that hot) at the game yesterday on account of the fact that it was quite windy and not as muggy as it might be. All the same, I drank over a gallon of water and didn't feel like putting anything that wasn't a simple carb (preferably served ice cold) into my body. I'll be ingesting a whole lot of protein today to make it all up to the pending child.
I'm ready for an August cool down. At home in Maine we have many August evenings that presage autumn - there's just a little bit of crispness in the air and, as soon as you start to pay attention to it, it's gone. I'd like that right about now.
I'm ready for an August cool down. At home in Maine we have many August evenings that presage autumn - there's just a little bit of crispness in the air and, as soon as you start to pay attention to it, it's gone. I'd like that right about now.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Dorks and Nerds Only Need Apply!
Way back in the days when I used to date, I had one hard and fast rule, specified above.
As you can imagine, my dating pool became much larger when I made the transition from high school to the University of Chicago, both because there were so many more nerds to be had and because my search for love was no longer stymied by my failed attempts at make-up and the right clothes and my ignorance of what was going on in the world of television and radio and all that - for all but a few "normals" lurking around campus such things were not important. Many people feel strongly about their undergraduate institutions, myself included. I could start talking about how important my Chicago years were but I doubt you would find it very interesting so let's skip it.
At any rate, my partner and I are still tremendous U of C freaks. That's why we're going to Hyde Park this weekend to buy a University of Chicago outfit for the pending child, to learn about sabermetrics, and to watch the White Sox- Red Sox game. Apart from the heat, I expect it will be a wonderful weekend.
Incidentally, in writing this post, I decided to test my own nerdiness. I am, alas, mediocre.
As you can imagine, my dating pool became much larger when I made the transition from high school to the University of Chicago, both because there were so many more nerds to be had and because my search for love was no longer stymied by my failed attempts at make-up and the right clothes and my ignorance of what was going on in the world of television and radio and all that - for all but a few "normals" lurking around campus such things were not important. Many people feel strongly about their undergraduate institutions, myself included. I could start talking about how important my Chicago years were but I doubt you would find it very interesting so let's skip it.
At any rate, my partner and I are still tremendous U of C freaks. That's why we're going to Hyde Park this weekend to buy a University of Chicago outfit for the pending child, to learn about sabermetrics, and to watch the White Sox- Red Sox game. Apart from the heat, I expect it will be a wonderful weekend.
Incidentally, in writing this post, I decided to test my own nerdiness. I am, alas, mediocre.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Today
So far nothing is going right. We'll see what happens because it is still early after all but I definitely feel that today could be the day for a little felix felicis. If you happen to have some that you are willing to give, let me know!
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Married to Mary: July version
Remember how I was all angsty about my dad's fairly sudden wedding and his plans to move to Connecticut? Further, do you remember how I returned from my last trip out to Maine with relatively little to say about my dad's new wife but with comments on my dad's sneakiness? If so, perhaps you will appreciate this:
I was speaking with my father. I mentioned that the weather in Portland has been wonderful (mostly the high 70s compared to the muggy 80s and 90s inland and in southern New England) and said that his grumbling about the long, cold, wet spring must finally be a thing of the past. He abruptly commenced a long monologue in which he spoke endlessly about how unbearable Maine winters are and how Connecticut runs about 10 degrees warmer than Portland on average. He emphatically stated that he really wasn't keen on spending another winter on the island.
"Dad, what are you talking about?" I replied.
"Well, Mary has decided that instead of me selling the house and moving to Connecticut, she is going to sell her condo and move up here. We'll put the money into the house and the cottage. Due to the property tax reassessment, the island real estate market is flooded. Mary thinks it would be crazy for us to sell right now. Besides, she really likes it out here."
"Ohhhh," I stifle my laughter, "Sounds like a great idea to me!"
My dad grumbles under his breath - something about how he didn't move down to Connecticut fast enough.
So, my dad's wife kicks ass, folks! Not only is she going to see to it that my island home is preserved, she might just be financially savvy enough to keep my dad out of the poorhouse and (NO JOKE) that takes a load off my mind!
I was speaking with my father. I mentioned that the weather in Portland has been wonderful (mostly the high 70s compared to the muggy 80s and 90s inland and in southern New England) and said that his grumbling about the long, cold, wet spring must finally be a thing of the past. He abruptly commenced a long monologue in which he spoke endlessly about how unbearable Maine winters are and how Connecticut runs about 10 degrees warmer than Portland on average. He emphatically stated that he really wasn't keen on spending another winter on the island.
"Dad, what are you talking about?" I replied.
"Well, Mary has decided that instead of me selling the house and moving to Connecticut, she is going to sell her condo and move up here. We'll put the money into the house and the cottage. Due to the property tax reassessment, the island real estate market is flooded. Mary thinks it would be crazy for us to sell right now. Besides, she really likes it out here."
"Ohhhh," I stifle my laughter, "Sounds like a great idea to me!"
My dad grumbles under his breath - something about how he didn't move down to Connecticut fast enough.
So, my dad's wife kicks ass, folks! Not only is she going to see to it that my island home is preserved, she might just be financially savvy enough to keep my dad out of the poorhouse and (NO JOKE) that takes a load off my mind!
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