Two hours of happiness

Posted on September 1, 2011 by sheilawill

I’ve always wanted to eat a squash blossom, but I’ve never remotely imagined dipping pieces of giant peanut butter-cum chocolate chips-cum bacon topped cookies in bourbon infused sweet milk. Huh?

All this was part of the Wednesday night garden dinner with Julie and Penny at Jax Kitchen. The proud bearer of a Groupon that needed to be used up, I figured what the hell. I had never been there before. Dan and I usually don’t venture that far out of  our hood.

The crisp squash blossom apps were filled with Mexican chorizo and shrimp (probably Mexican too), set on a purple grilled onion “flower.” Really too pretty to eat but we forced ourselves. Our waitperson was a fine young man, an enthusiastic salesman. He was great. He knew his wine.

“We have this garden downtown. Everything on this menu comes from our own garden.” Wait a minute, chorizo? Shrimp? I still trusted him. The farmer’s salad comes with “our” squash + zucchini, bacon lardon (which I never heard of before), a soft-boiled egg and lemon oil. Gush it all together and it was yummy. Heirloom tomatoes too.

I don’t mind naming all these refined new vegetables. As a writer, a person who adores words, it’s fine to make everything we eat sound so artistic, even poetic.

Julie even took pictures of some of the dishes.  I always ask to hear about the desserts, which satisfies me enough to not order anything. Not tonight. I succumbed.

Two weeks ago I lost a few pounds. I had started to change my eating habits. Then Dan took me to Feast for a lovely dinner following a very difficult week.

Meat meat meat. Bar-b-q ribs rubbed with coffee grounds, which I chomped on like a cavewoman. Licked my fingers and all. Cured all that ailed me.

We finished the meal with Doug Levy’s outrageously gooey chocolate (decadence?) $.65 cookies, the best food bargain in town. A small cookie for each of us seemed just right.

This evening, a thin young woman at the next table with her boyfriend stared down a full plate. Had she eaten anything all day, or all week? Would she be able to zip her jeans up the next morning? Ahh…so much holds little importance to the young. Metabolism takes care of itself. Each day rolls smoothly into the next.

And life goes on. Some people eat nasturtium sandwiches. My uncle Joe went out to to eat and ordered spaghetti with ketchup. We had liver and onions for dinner growing up. Tonight I finally tasted a squash blossom.

Posted in Food/happy hours | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Kudos to Bill Keller, down with wimpiness

Posted on August 28, 2011 by sheilawill

He’s so right. “We need to ask candidates tougher questions about their faith,” Keller, the NYT executive editor writes in this week’s NYT mag. If a presidential candidate believes in the rapture, does that mean that s/he could never appoint an atheist to the Supreme Court?

That’s the way we’re rolling these days: It’s my way or the highway.

( Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas thinks of himself as an “originalist” and although he hasn’t posed a question at court proceedings in five years, he’s writing opinions neglecting precedent or that the framers of the Constitution allowed for changing times).

What are we so squeamish about? asks Keller. Be more aggressive, he advises journalists and ordinary citizens. I remember all the hubbub about Catholic presidential candidate John F. Kennedy during the 1960 campaign. People worried that if elected president he would have to consult with the pope before making decisions. Back then, voters were adamant about a president not being beholden to religious dogma in policy-making.

Today the opposite seems to be true; the more adherence to religious “values” the better. Worse yet, we’re not talking about nicey nice religious values like “love thy neighbor.” Disregard science, be subservient to your husband while condemning how some Americans choose to love, disregard the poor by condoning huge tax cuts to the wealthiest among us, and so on.

Keller has sent Republican presidential candidates questionnaires. Here are a few of his excellent questions:

“Do you agree with those religious leaders who say that America is a ‘Christian nation’ or ‘Judeo-Christian’ [I’ve never heard that one] and what does that mean in practice?”

“Would you have any hesitation in appointing a Muslim to the federal bench? What about an atheist?”

Why we don’t  ask more aggressive questions? For example, I’d ask, when there are millions of people out of jobs and the income level of working Americans hasn’t risen in years, how will you specifically help the unemployed? What are they supposed to do, pull themselves up by their ‘American Dream’ bootstraps, even if they have no boots?

I don’t like wimpiness. What are we so afraid of, especially journalists, whom I always told my students were the fifth branch of government? But I’m not only talking about journalists; we’re lucky enough to discuss controversial topics without being carted off to jail.

Can we be respectful without being wimps? I just finished reading “Dreaming in English” by Tucsonan Laura Fitzgerald. Ike, the recently married husband of Tami, an Iranian woman new to America, keeps telling her to stand up for herself, to be strong. Without giving away the story, when Tami finally speaks her mind without fear of what might happen, she wins it all. Granted she’s come from a repressive country and traditionally must gives in to her likely fate, but she finally gets it.

She gets the importance of not being wimpy, for those she loves, but mostly for herself. Guess I’ve always thought that the crux of good education is learning to speak up for yourself, doing your research and asking perceptive questions.

Posted in Fight wimpiness, politics | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

“Too Jewish”

Posted on August 27, 2011 by sheilawill

Most of my life it’s been a quandary. Sure I’m Jewish but going to synagogue doesn’t do it for me. It feels more sacred to walk down the path at Wonderland in Acadia National Park; I feel more “one ” with the universe than I’ve ever felt being part of an organized religious practice.

My older brother, Joel, has his office in a building outside of Boston, which also houses  a Chabad group of religious Jews. Joel and I both went to Hebrew day school but are secular Jews. My brother’s a really nice guy, and when the Chabad rabbi was twice short of a minyan (10 Jewish men needed to hold a service), Joel took his place among the daveners,  or praying men, to help out. He told me recently that he could still read Hebrew but didn’t know what it meant. Only having to stay 15 minutes or so was fine with him.

Last week on the phone, my brother mentioned that he came across the tefillin from his bar mitzvah. One day he ran into the Chabad rabbi and asked if the rabbi wanted them.

“Oh, maybe you’ll need them, Joel,” the rabbi said.

“Rabbi, we’ve had this conversation already,” Joel replied, and the Chabadnik relented. My brother was not returning to his Jewish religious beginnings.

My kids are technically Jewish because they have a Jewish mother but they’ve never had any Jewish training except for going to Chanukah parties at the Einhorns’ house in Bar Harbor, Maine. My daughter, Brook Wilensky-Lanford — the wildly talented author of “Paradise Lust: Searching for the Garden of Eden” — was interviewed on Tucson Rabbi Sam Cohon’s “Too Jewish” radio show last Sunday.

Rabbi Cohon is a sharp guy. He had told me that he’s always been fascinated by the Garden of Eden, and although I told him that Brook’s book wasn’t at all Jewish — let alone “Too Jewish” — he was intrigued. I listened to the program and as much as Brook wanted to tell about her characters searching for the Garden of Eden, Rabbi Cohon wanted to remark on any Jewish connections. That’s what rabbis do, what anyone so connected to any religion takes on in her life.

Me, I keep wondering why I’m at the Arizona Jewish Post at this point in my life. Constantly steeped in Jewish life, I’m always trying to find out who’s Jewish and has an interesting story. My calendar revolves around the Jewish one (extra days off are great).

I’m definitely not “too Jewish.” Am I not Jewish enough? Will being Jewish matter more to me one day? Why are my children so interested in the impact that religion has made in history (Brook) and cultural anthropology (Ethan)? It’s a conundrum.

Posted in Family Matters | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

In my house

Posted on August 25, 2011 by sheilawill

If it all works out, a lobsterman will move into my Southwest Harbor home this weekend. Perfect timing. A major relief for me to have the house occupied through howling winds, ice and snow. Winter renters have moved in and out over the past nine years. Some great, some awful. A seamstress I had to evict, a lovely young woman dentist from Montana, teachers, a documentary filmmaker, a family waiting for their new retirement home to be finished, a Hungarian College of the Atlantic student and her older boyfriend with his art collection.

I’ve only spoken with said lobsterman twice. Each time he sounded like he was half-asleep or drinking too many beers after a hard day at sea. I guess it doesn’t matter what he does as long as he keeps the place clean, pays his rent on time, and makes sure that the pipes don’t freeze.

“He’s a pretty decent guy. I taught him how to play the drums in school,” another lobsterman who’s the son of a good friend told me today. “He used to be a partier but hey, that was three or four years ago.” And what, now he’s 25? Okay, I regress. If he sleeps a lot and is relatively quiet, or maybe even shy, that’s a lot better than my very worse tenants.

She was — and still is — a Southwest Harbor yoga teacher. She and her husband had three beautiful, shaggy blond-haired children. That didn’t stop the kids from drawing on the walls with crayons, carving their initials in the dining room table, with parents who were adept at lying, taking stuff and leaving dog hair all over. Bad karma indeed.

I’ll bet the lobsterman will be just fine. He went to last year’s tenant’s good-bye party. She told me today that she really didn’t know him, but he was very nice. I also heard from his previous landlord that he kept his place clean and paid his rent on time. He graduated from the University of Maine “two or three years ago.” Even though he’s a young fellow he just couldn’t remember.

I remember a now long-deceased doctor who moved his family to Maine so he could become a lobsterman. The doc tried it for a while but it was just too hard, the story went. I know a woman in her 50s who loves being a stern man, heading out the Western Way in the dark when most people are still sleeping. In July I’m often awakened by the chug-chug-chugging of diesel engines leaving the harbor, just down the path in the field behind my bedroom window.

Lobstering is honest work. Most of my renters have been honest, decent people. Some have become friends, even left books for me that they’ve written. There were the renters who said “your house feels like a hug.” I appreciate that.

Posted in Mount Desert Island/Maine | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

America, America, wherefore art thou?

Posted on August 21, 2011 by sheilawill

Brook’s “Paradise Lust” is getting great reviews. Ethan arrives in Houston this weekend to start grad school at Rice. Dan and I are doing fine. But America? That’s another story. Without jumping on the disbelief bandwagon about our politics getting crazier and crazier, I’m going to do what helps me most. I read. I write.

Historically, there’s always been political craziness in the United States, and it’s mostly been incited by greed and hatred of “the other.” But recently I read “America, America” (2008) by the terrific writer Ethan Canin, and he reminded me about many of the warped personalities who jump into the political fray. Yes, we’ve had sane politicians like George McGovern, Jim Jeffords, and Gabby Giffords. (I won’t bore you with the outlandish things that we’ve heard masquerade as public policy lately.)

Here’s what Canin writes in his novel: “We tend to elect those who can campaign over those who can lead.” It’s sad, but maybe that’s what happened with Barack Obama. I’ve wondered if Hillary Clinton might have been able to get more done, even though I dislike her more opportunistic style.

“How diligently privilege has to work to remain oblivious to its cost.” Denial is a powerful tool. How can any of the right-wing loonies lash out at Warren Buffett for being honest about billionaires being “coddled” with such a low tax rate?

“Power begins to grow from its own essence, rising no longer exclusively from the character of the man [or woman] but from the office itself. And this is where some balance must be found between its attainment and its allotment, between the unquenchable desire in any politician to rise, and the often humbling requirement that one’s station must now be used to some benefit. And here, of course, is where corruption begins. For power contains an irresistible urge to further itself: there is always the next race.” Sad, but true.

The narrator of the book, a newspaper editor [ahem] says “it never fails to surprise me that journalists, and politicians, and all the people whom my profession now calls opinion makers, can still be swayed with just a few of the right gifts and the right trips, with just a few of the right drinks and the right singers and the right last names, and that the citizenry, in turn, by the millions and millions, can still be brought in line behind them.” (Are we a bunch of sheep?)

I love the part of the book about the narrator’s father, reading constantly as a retired older man who never went to college, who finally has the time. He reads philosophy, and even Howard Zinn’s “The People’s History of the United States,” which endears me to him. Maybe he’s the book’s hero, someone who wants to keep learning, who doesn’t take the bullshit for granted.

And I love the part about Trieste, the young newspaper intern, explaining that it was in the worst of times during the Depression “when the national economy was at its low point of the century, that’s when we wrote the child labor laws. That’s when we showed the most care for our children.”

I still have faith that the majority of American people are sensible, and while all this yelling is going on for the next year and a half before the 2012 presidential election, let the farmers and the teachers, the writers and the plumbers, the students and the old folks, go to the polls and disregard the crazies. First our formerly eloquent young president — with his hair rapidly turning white — must act. Sometimes I wonder. A darker mood seems to be spreading across the country. So I read. And I write. What do you do?

Posted in politics | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Life’s ups and downs

Posted on August 6, 2011 by sheilawill

We all have them, the twists and turns, the highs and lows. But how to keep the extremes in check — that is the question. Tomorrow Brook’s first book “Paradise Lust: Searching for the Garden of Eden” will have a full-page review in the New York Times Book Review. the pinnacle of the literati. The reviewer calls Brook’s storytelling “irresistible.” No surprise there, but it’s a highlight of a mother’s life to have the world hear that confirmation. Anyone who’s known Brook since she was a tiny girl with an articulate voice has recognized her gift.

I’m a writer with a small gift — I’m good at ledes, zippiness (as Brook once told me), and snappy endings. Has my writing improved over the years since I wrote horrible poetry as a teenager about the sun shining, blah, blah, blah? Yes it has, immensely.

There are many really superb writers out there, but I remember once reading that persistence is what separates those who write well and those who never complete their projects.

I’ve also learned that there has to be a balance. Working all the time doesn’t cut it; it only diminishes productivity and puts me in a mental tailspin. I need breaks from too much concentration, seriousness, and earnest contemplation.

It’s about not being too hard on myself. Don’t we all regularly commit to finishing a projects like losing weight, getting more exercise, or cleaning the house? I often veer from my projects that I was so adamant about at the start, although I’m obsessive enough to eventually finish small tasks. When it comes to writing, I appreciate deadlines.

I’m so impressed with Brook. She had the determination and self-discipline to complete the huge project of meticulously researching and lyrically writing “Paradise Lust.” I know she had her ups and downs but she did it. Saying that I’m proud doesn’t do justice to her outstanding accomplishment. And now she’s harvesting the fruits from her garden!

How did she surpass the big questions? Sometimes it’s hard for me to get past worries about the big picture. I’ve always loved the E.L. Doctorow quote about writing that Anne Lamott distilled in “Bird by Bird”:

“E.L. Doctorow once said that ‘Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.’ You don’t have to see where you’re going, you don’t have to see your destination or everything you will pass along the way. You just have to see two or three feet ahead of you. This is right up there with the best advice on writing, or life, I have ever heard.”

— Anne Lamott (Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life)

Little mantras I often tell myself: You don’t have to work on the big picture all the time. Take small steps toward a goal. Don’t give up. Keep your eyes on the prize, even if you avert them occasionally.

Another thought about improving my own mental health as I age — I’ve realized how close excitement and anxiety are. I’ve always been a fan of both, but now I don’t want to depend too much on either to keep me going. Cultivating calm is far more important to me. Not to say that I don’t regress, like now when I’m over-the-top excited about Brook’s well-deserved success.

But I try to give myself a break from either getting too excited or too anxious, knowing that either can easily spiral away from my grasp of what’s really important to me — being a good mother, a good friend, enjoying all I have in my life. So maybe this afternoon I’ll go see the movie “Tree of Life” and look at somebody else’s big picture.

Posted in Family Matters, Mental illness | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Homeland run amok

Posted on July 30, 2011 by sheilawill

Since 9/11, we’ve been terrorized by fear. You see it in the monumental popularity of Fox News where almost every story is about something  (flip-flops) or someone (any Muslim) that is out to harm us. During this latest debt ceiling debacle in Congress, the fear is about the budget deficit.

Poof! Get rid of tax loopholes for the richest among us and it’s done, or at least on the right path. Instead of reason, sound bytes of politicians preaching fear rule.

A cultural paranoia has taken over, much like the low level of Jewish paranoia that I’ve always had, knowing I would have been hauled off to a concentration camp during World War II in Europe. But at least I’m aware that it’s a form of paranoia, because I wasn’t there.

Many people have real fears, how to feed their families when they’re unemployed, how to get decent medical care, or how to pay for their kid’s college education. That makes it all the more important for our dysfunctional Congress to jump off the crazy train.

Poor House Speaker John Boehner crying on his couch, an icepack on his forehead after trying to placate his dogmatic freshman members. But that “fool’s errand” has only gotten worse.  President Obama may call on the 14th Amendment to raise the debt ceiling in a few days because it’s unconstitutional to not meet our debts. The Tea Partiers will go nuts but, as one senator said, they’re already nuts.

Whatever happens with the debt ceiling debacle, the goings-on in our nation’s capital have been insane (“doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results,” Albert Einstein’s definition of insanity).

I hope the Tea Party movement’s mantra of cutting spending — without sufficient regard for the most vulnerable among us — will eventually be overridden. Do they really think the deficit is our worst problem? I think it’s about unnecessary super-expensive wars, lowering unemployment, and rebuilding our spirit of innovation through top-notch education.

I’m an optimist and believe that most sensible voters will not in 2012 vote for the crazies ranting about the budget deficit. But a lot of strange things have happened in the past 10 years.

And the polluted mixture of real economic fears and imagined fears doesn’t help.

Posted in politics | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Sicko

Posted on July 29, 2011 by sheilawill

My right ear is throbbing but at least it doesn’t hurt anymore. Yesterday the ear/nose/ throat doc said I had a “nasty” middle ear infection. He sent me out of his office with a bunch of prescriptions, calling into the hall after me, “So you’ve had no surgeries? (I hadn’t seen that question on the informational sheets. I’m not sure why he asked.)

“Oh, I’ve had two, both with local anesthesia,” I told him. And I had explained — probably repeatedly — that I didn’t like taking pills.

Recovery Day One: I’m not one to lie around but here I am, hanging out on the couch. Not worrying about the debt ceiling or work or whether someone wonderful will rent my house for the winter. I’m taking a break from regular life. Maybe I’ll lose some weight in the process. All because of the meds.

One of my goals growing older is not to take a lot of pills. In just one day I can see how they rule your life: ear drops 4x a day, antibiotic twice a day one hour after a meal, and a weird schedule of some kind of steroid that was supposed to reduce the swelling of my Eustachian tubes (I’ve already gotten the ent man to let me drop it after a day, made me dizzy and nauseated).

Pills can rule your life. Antibiotics make my stomach hurt. Then take a probiotic supplement. More pills. I’d rather eat a mango.

Good clean water is the best medicine. “Drink plenty of water” may have been some of my best parenting advice. At least I know it was heeded. I recall Brook directing a play when she had a bad cold during her senior year at Wesleyan. She sent an article with a photo of herself looking very directorial, with a scarf around her neck, gesturing with her hands, telling a reporter, “I’m drinking plenty of water like my mom told me.”

Not having enough water on the plane must be how I got this ear infection. Flying cross-country last week I also didn’t splash water on my face every half-hour. Reading “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” commanded all my attention. I remember thinking later, “Hmm…I probably should have tossed more water on my face.” This technique — especially under my nose — has worked  to keep my ears safe in the past.

When I was younger I got lots of sinus infections. My former ent brother-in-law told me I had “kinky eardrums.” I pop my ears in the shower daily, as he advised. Next time I fly I’m taking one of those spray bottles for plants. Saving a lot of money on doctor’s visits and pills — so that I can go on more trips — is always a good thing.

 

Posted in kinky eardrums | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Empty Wallets

Posted on July 26, 2011 by sheilawill

George Packer’s piece in the July 25 New Yorker humanizes the serious economic mess we’re in, not like the politicos in Congress ranting about cuts that disallow an unemployed father from providing medical treatment for his daughter with bone cancer. I’m mad as hell and I can’t take it anymore! So I’m writing.

How outrageous that Congress and the President are babbling about reducing trillions in the budget, cutting Social Security and Medicare — for some elderly their only income/health care — while members of Congress have the best health care on earth, don’t have to worry about paying for their next gallon of gas, or consuming ultra-giant sodas instead of milk because the crap is cheaper.

President Obama should not give in to these irresponsible, inhumane supposed government representatives who are really only interested in securing their jobs for another term. Use the bully pulpit, you know how, comon’ Barack! Now is the time.

Speaker of the House John Boehner is carrying on about the president wanting a blank check to get us out of this economic mess. Yeah, that’s enough to scare the masses who get so riled up about the possibility of their taxes increasing by $100 a year. Is it really so awful to pay $100 more a year to have decent schools or help provide health care for a young girl with cancer?

Why does saving such a small amount of money have more impact than letting the wealthiest corporations maintain tax loopholes, or allowing the ultra-rich to benefit from tax breaks approved by the Bush administration?

But not help the Hartzell family, who not only were denied the best medical treatment for their daughter, but were also cut off from receiving jobless benefits in Florida?

Ninety-seven percent of House Republicans have taken the “No Tax Pledge” while the biggest corporations get out of paying their fair share of taxes. Is that what they mean by a “No Tax Pledge?”

Why are no-tax pledgers so angry about helping others? If they’re religious, don’t they learn in church to do onto others as you would have done unto you, or something like that. It’s really the religion of individualism that has driven us into this abyss. Individualism to the detriment of everybody else only inspires greed, harkening back to the Reagan years.

We hear words tossed around such as freedom, rights, more freedom, but why do they only relate to the people intent on spouting them, not all of us?

Posted in politics | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Hello again — from east to west

Posted on July 22, 2011 by sheilawill

Flying home to Tucson from my home in Southwest Harbor, Maine, I’m sipping on Bailey’s Irish Cream on the rocks, wified on board this Southwest Airlines flight west. I’ve been east — down east — for three weeks.

Who said “you can’t go home again?” Nearly nine years ago I added another home to my life. I’m lucky to have two homes that suit me so well. Yesterday in Southwest Harbor I could feel myself heading west again. As much as I love my Southwest Harbor home/community of more than 30 years, I was mostly ready to leave. I’m reading “Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain” by David Eagleman, and I’m learning how our conscious mind merely illuminates the headlines of our daily lives. Amazing how seamlessly all those neurons underneath the headlines do their job.

I’ve been thinking about how we’re developmentally ready for the different stages in our lives, how I’m glad to be getting older, calming down. I’m still ravenously curious about the world but am intent on not stressing out about it. Maybe the best years of my life will be from 66 to 70 — social security (if it still exists next year), seeing the lavender fields of Provence, reading at my leisure?

I’m finally pleased with myself, which has taken a long time and hasn’t been easy. My Maine poet friend Candice told me what a perfect image it was to watch mama me sitting between Brook and Ethan in front of a 1972 poster of George McGovern on my sunporch, sipping wine, eating a perfect Maine summer dinner of grilled halibut, asparagus, tomato wedges. Shared memories perked up the conversation as tourist cars passed by on their way to Seawall Road campgrounds, a glimmering full moon rose outside the window, and one or two pesky mosquitoes bit the dust.

It was a very special time in Southwest Harbor this year. Brook launched her first book, “Paradise Lust: Searching for the Garden of Eden,” at the Southwest Harbor Public Library. Nearly everyone there knew her when we went to the library and as a four-year-old, she would choose a stack of books. Candy Emlen,  now the library director, started working at the library in the late 1980s doing her final project in my College of the Atlantic class, “Teaching Social Issues through Children’s Literature.” She introduced me to introduce Brook, referring to me as a very special person in the community who had done so much for literacy by starting Oz Books in our little town. My big story, “The Heyday of Children’s Literature,” came out in this week’s Publishers Weekly.

And I got my hair cut really short to let the gray grow in faster. I’m not sure what I’m trying to say, but hey, I’m 38,000 feet above ground, having woven lovely threads of my life together.

 

 

 

Posted in Mount Desert Island/Maine, Tucson Festival of Books/good books | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments