Happy Thanksgiving — 2008
November 26, 2008 by Julia King · Leave a Comment
William Faulkner said, “Gratitude is a quality similar to electricity: it must be produced and discharged and used up in order to exist at all.”
He might have been exactly right: just like gratitude, creating electricity is a task for which not everyone is equally well-suited. Energy is relatively easy to come by, but electricity is not – a thought I have had countless times as I’ve pedaled my stationary bike to nowhere in my living room. “If only I could use all this pedaling for something worthwhile,” I often lament, sweat dripping from my brow.
Surely gratitude production is reliant on forces at least as complicated as electricity’s electrons, positrons, and ions. Perhaps science will one day create the mathematical formula for measuring an individual’s life situation against her nature/nurture constraints to equal her gratitude quotient. Something along the lines of: In order to feel (X) amount of (G), patient (Y) will need to expend (T) amount of (E).
Faulkner’s notion of gratitude as electricity (complete with my own addition of the stationary bike) was reinforced for me this morning on NPR’s Morning Edition. While still in bed, I listened to a story about a Fort Wayne, Indiana Christmas tree with lights that connect to a generator and stationary bike. Holiday frolickers take turns pedaling to light up the tree; when the battery that holds the energy gets low, an alarm sounds.
It’s a perfect set-up and not at all unlike gratitude (or even Thanksgiving Day), because everyone involved has something a little different to contribute to the experience. It begins, of course, with an idea. Next come the wires and the generator and the battery… all those pieces of the scientific puzzle that need to be solved, but in the end it just requires the simple (but magical) fact of able and willing legs. Short stubby ones or long skinny ones, young ones that move with lightning speed, or seasoned ones that pump slow and steady. When one pair grows tired, another pair takes over. And with each donation of effort, the light burns brighter.
I can see in my mind’s eye the scene at the Fort Wayne Christmas tree, not unlike a million scenes across the nation this Thanksgiving day. Family and friends gathered around, some full of laughter and energy to share, others weary from the work of pie-making, or turkey basting, or maybe just life. There is much pedaling and much resting and when the rolls are warm and the table is set and everyone sits down at the table, there it is… electricity.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING. Go ahead, bask in the light. It’s yours to share.
Simple and Beautiful Holiday Recipes
November 24, 2008 by Julia King · 11 Comments
4 people PLUS 5 hours EQUALS this cake.
NOTE TO SELF: The freezer does not act as a chilling microwave. For heaven’s sake, give the frosting the time it needs to THICKEN.
“Oh, you SHOULDN’T have!” Sen. Lieberman’s Unearned Gift.
November 19, 2008 by Julia King · 2 Comments
Sen. Joe Lieberman, Independent and outspoken champion of the Iraq war, will retain his powerful chairmanship position on the Senate Homeland Security Committee. Apparently Lieberman has the consummate unifier, President Elect Barack Obama, to thank for this gem of a gift.
Next time, Mr. President Elect Obama (I still love writing that), when you’re trying to make nice with political foes — may I suggest a fruit basket?
Obviously, within the halls of Congress gifting positions of power is seen as a way to smooth over the bumps, but down here with the little people it feels different – maybe a bit too much like being the monkey in a game of monkey in the middle. Try as I might, I just CANNOT reach that ball when the guys tossing it are so far over my head.
Throughout Obama’s campaign he talked about disagreeing without being disagreeable. That notion was (is) popular with the American electorate in part because after five years of war, many of us are just too tired to fight anymore. Civility is the perfect antidote to suicide bombs and death and soldiers with post traumatic stress disorder. Obama’s campaign was pitch-perfect for the times, just like his personality.
But from where I sit, there is nothing disagreeable about removing Lieberman from the Homeland Security Chairmanship, considering that he’s a man who represents a failed and unpopular approach to national security. The people have spoken. We don’t hate Lieberman; we disagree with him. We worked hard to elect Obama because we don’t want people like Lieberman (or John McCain) steering the agenda.
A fruit basket. Yes, that’s what Lieberman deserves.
Race Relations and an African American President
November 17, 2008 by Julia King · Leave a Comment
Since Barack Obama’s presidential win, I have been thinking a lot about a woman I used to know. I haven’t seen or spoken with her in years, but we were both members of a racially diverse steering committee for a project called Study Circles on Race Relations (the national organization has since changed its name, but its mission still involves encouraging small group discussions around difficult social issues).
It was an intense years-long experience, one that drains me to recall in too much detail. There was genuine friendship within the group, but also some genuine strife. A handful of us met regularly for long lunches to hammer out recruitment plans and explore funding possibilities; and to try — to the best of our abilities — to confront our groups’ own inter-personal challenges, some that were a result of personality differences, and others that no doubt stemmed from race. We presided over workshops and discussions together, sometimes gracefully and sometimes clumsily. However imperfect, we were a team.
During those years I witnessed moments of uncommon interracial dialogue, moments that included accusations, defensiveness, tears, apologies. But there were just as many moments in which everyone stayed well within the carefully constructed boundaries of polite society. Either way, as a discussion facilitator, I usually went home with a headache.
The incident I’ve been thinking of since Obama’s election, however, wasn’t from a formal discussion session; it was at a steering committee lunch meeting that happened just a day or two after a racially motivated murder occurred in town. The tragic coincidence was that one of our members knew the victim. Not only did she know him, he was on his way to her house on the evening he was shot and killed. The details are fuzzy in my mind; it’s possible I’m remembering things incorrectly; but what I do remember clearly was this woman’s grief, the way it hung on her face and her shoulders.
At some point during lunch, she began telling us a story about a man (black) who knew another man (also black) who worked for a white man who seemed like a wonderful guy. It was the sort of story where the black man and the white man ran through fields together giggling and catching butterflies.
Then one day the black man was looking for a roll of tape (or paper clip) in the white man’s desk drawer, when he discovered the truth. There it was, plain as day… a Klansman’s mask.
I doubted the story at the time (as I still do today), but didn’t say so. This woman clearly not only believed it, but needed to tell it, needed to give shape to what she was feeling – that all white people, no matter how kind or cooperative or sincere they might appear – have a Klansman’s mask hidden in their desk. It was not an unreasonable thing for her to believe on that day, but it hurt to hear her speak it.
And so she has been on my mind, this woman who lost trust, who lost hope.
Winter Word to the Wise
November 17, 2008 by Julia King · Leave a Comment
Seasonal tip: if you are too lazy (…busy, disorganized, undisciplined…) to make room for your car in the garage, you will probably not get the full benefit of a product that requires you to cover your car the night BEFORE a snowfall.
Grandmother Births Granddaughters after Eating Wild Mushrooms (or Receiving Fertility Treatments)
November 15, 2008 by Julia King · Leave a Comment
Imagine a world in which a woman gives birth to her own triplet granddaughters. I know. Run-of-the-mill already. Wake me up when a man gives birth to his triplet grandparents. That’s a real story.
Oh, the complexity.
What drives a family to such … I don’t know… exertion? What makes three presumably sane people grab nature and twist it into intractable knots?
15 years ago my body birthed one child and mysteriously halted production. I have a beautiful spitfire of a daughter who loves egg sandwiches and hiking in the woods and has an unnatural aversion to the sound of harmonicas. There was a time when I ached to have another just like her; but looking into her gold-specked eyes I know I’d have to be greedy to require more than one miracle.
All of us together in the child-production-and-rearing years, my sisters wanted me to “do” something, to take up arms in the War for Babies. Because in America we’re always supposed to be “doing” something about everything… weight loss, face-lift, lawn replacement, breast enlargement.
“Just do something little,” they said (so loaning me their uteruses never actually came up). But I didn’t know what “little” meant. There was a line somewhere that I knew I shouldn’t cross but it was so fuzzy it was almost impossible to see. And on the way to that line were a million stops, a million places to rationalize away convictions.
A strong proponent of population control, my social worker sister bent her rules regarding fertility medicine because she loves me. But I was unwilling to bend mine.
There are still moments in the dark-blue hours past midnight when I think far into my daughter’s future, the one where I no longer exist, and wonder if I should have tried harder, longer – not for me, but for her.
But in the light of day things are clearer: Life offers few guarantees, and there is even something to be gained (wisdom to name it) from deprivation or loss. I know, too, that even under the best circumstances fertility is fleeting; every woman must eventually bid it farewell. My time just came sooner than most.
Veterans’ Day
November 11, 2008 by Julia King · Leave a Comment
Thank you, Veterans.
Thank you to all those who have lost lives, limbs, loved ones, and innocence in service to our country. Some of you are gone. Some are old and creaky, years away from the sharpness of battle. Others of you are living this very moment through unimaginable violence and darkness. Some of you are veterans of “popular” wars, some of controversial wars. But you all deserve thanks. What you have given to this nation is generous beyond measure.
And for the rest of us, those who have never seen up close war in all its power, here’s a place to begin to explore our relationship (as humans) to this thing we do over and over: War is a Force that Gives Us Meaning, by Chris Hedges.
California’s Proposition (Crazy) 8
November 8, 2008 by Julia King · 2 Comments
Just before the election, I was reading the New York Times on-line (like a good latte-drinking liberal, except that I mostly drink plain coffee) when I peeked into the weddings/celebrations section to ease my then-politically-anxious mind.
I saw that two lovely men were married beneath a “vine-cloaked pergola” in their “Tudor-style Beverly Hills home.” Later, they dined with guests in a fairy tale setting, complete with tea lights, fine china and intricate floral bouquets.
Now, I love Will and Grace. And that’s not just a line to prove I’m gay-tolerant; it’s relevant here because one of the grooms was the successful and wildly talented writer and creator of the show. As I said, I love the show. And I love homosexuals. I’d like to have a party and invite them all over. Once, as a matter of fact, my husband and I befriended a guy just because he was gay. Living in a small town, we were thrilled to be so cool. Surprisingly, however, when we finally had him over to our house, he brought his girlfriend. It turned out he was just unusual, but not actually gay – so the budding friendship took a big dive.
Anyway, my point here is that I’m basically comfortable with homosexuality and with gay marriage. And YET… for some reason, looking at two men with a prayer shawl draped over their shoulders and matching infant daughters in their arms makes my nose crinkle. Through my Midwestern heterosexual eyes, it looks a bit silly. Two handsome, fancy men and their little babies: Is THAT the way it’s supposed to work?
If it sounds like I’m gay-bashing, that’s certainly not my intention. It’s just that when I saw the stories about the passage of Proposition 8 in California, the images from the Hyman/Mutchnick wedding were still fresh in my mind. I thought about those 5-million (plus) people who voted to rob fellow citizens of serious rights, when really all that was called for was a little nose-crinkling.
Unlike the California voters, I understand that my visceral response to the love between two men (or two women) is not a call to action against that love. It’s a call for me to remember that some men love other men the way I love my husband – down to their very bones. If I am to have respect for my marriage, I must be willing to give respect to others’ marriages. It’s that simple. Proposition 8 had it exactly backwards.
Catch a Falling Leaf and…
November 7, 2008 by Julia King · Leave a Comment
Mrs. Davis taught us that song in 4th grade music class (but it was a falling star instead of a leaf). I thought of it yesterday as I stood in the street with my husband and our daughter catching (and missing) falling leaves. Even my teenage daughter couldn’t manage to roll her eyes when I cajoled her into the autumn day to play. If you’ve still got leaves falling in your neighborhood, get out there and catch some. Laughter guaranteed!
Race, Progress and Obama: How far is far enough?
November 7, 2008 by Julia King · Leave a Comment
Like many Americans, I’ve spent a couple of days congratulating myself and my country (and my state – bless your HEARTland, Indiana!) on a job well done. This whole Black Man in the White House phenomenon is an impressive collective achievement. And the beauty of it lies in the fact that Barack was so clearly the better candidate. Never, not once, did I believe I was risking important public policy in order to attain important social progress. President Elect Obama, with his Constitutional expertise, his grassroots experience, his command of the language, and his graceful strength is without a doubt the right man at the right time.
We on the Left have wept and danced and celebrated both the short and long term implications of an Obama White House. As my sister said the day after the election, it’s as though we had been carrying an invisible burden all these years and until it fell, we had no idea how heavy it was. Despite all the hard work ahead, there is an unfamiliar lightness in my step and a much refreshed belief in possibility in my heart.
Meanwhile, in my daughter’s high school world, things are not so cheery. There are the basketball jokes and the bizarre references to hangings and a not-so-subtle 1950s tone of racism slinking into classroom conversations. And there was the slapping incident, in which a black student struck a white student after the white student said he wanted to keep the White House WHITE. In other words, the pot has been stirred.
We have absolutely jumped a hurdle, but have we “overcome?” Or is this what “overcoming” looks like? All across the world people attack one another for being different (more later regarding the hurdles we DIDN’T get over this election). Do we expect too much when we expect genuine harmony among humans? Is there a place on this earth where people embrace their differences (be they racial, cultural, religious, etc.)? Under what flag does true acceptance flourish?
