Maria v. James

My in-laws were in town for Thanksgiving this past weekend, and as such, we made plans for various types of entertainment.  On Friday night, we went to the 5th Avenue to see The Sound of Music and Saturday afternoon, we went to see the new James Bond movie, Spectre.

Given the challenges in my marriage over the past year and a half, I am not a big fan of romance movies, books or musicals.  I might make an exception for Pride and Prejudice.  Elizabeth Bennett will always be awesomely intelligent and strong, and Darcy will always be charmingly difficult, but I digress.

This version of The Sound of Music has more songs than the movie, as well as a more developed Baroness Elsa Schraeder.  In the movie, she is a wealthy widow.  In the play, she is still a widow, but also president of her own corporation, running the family firm.  In some ways, I feel more like Baroness Schraeder than Maria: older, in control of money, a realist instead of an idealist* and slightly bitchy, but in a good way.

I am also slightly cynical about equating marriage with love, and see "happily ever after" as a load of bullshit.  I see it now more as a legal union, protecting both parties of their rights to property.  I see Jack's behavior last year, and see this:

I found this on this blog: http://oh-elsa-darling.tumblr.com

This quote is so true, except men don't get it, especially when a young woman is fawning over them.  As Elsa implies, it is hard for a man to be immune to such behavior.  Of course, not all men love all women, other there would never be the reality of women waiting by the phone for a guy to call.  Thank goodness for cellphones in this modern era!  Now girls can be out on the town with friends instead of waiting by the phone on a Saturday night! Bravo! I digress.

So we go to to the James Bond movie, which I was very excited to see. I think Daniel Craig is the perfect Bond, and he is exceptionally hot for a guy of 47.  Skip the age.  He is hot, full stop.  He is so hot that he made Ralph Fiennes who is 52 and plays M look like a toad, and I adore Ralph Fiennes.  To be clear, I am talking about Ralph Fiennes from The Constant Gardener, not Voldemort.  Seriously, Fiennes looked horrible compared Craig.  Fiennes is balding, and his nose looked huge.  I think the director uglied him up on purpose.  Daniel Craig is the bride, and Fiennes is a bridesmaid.  M can't be the hottest guy in the film--that would be not good for the Bond franchise.

After the Bond movie, my son asked, "What happened to the woman in the first scene of the movie?" Very good question for a 12 year old boy, and also the whole point of James Bond.  Therein lies the difference between men and women.

Women want happily ever after, and men want a different chick for every night of the week.  Generally men cringe at the thought of watching a romantic comedy and women grit their teeth through action flicks.

But here I am in middle age, preferring the Bond movie to Julie Andrews. I never thought I'd live to see the day.  When I was in high school I thought Bond movies were stupid, boring, sexist and completely unrealistic.  Now, it was nice to see a delicious piece of middle-aged man eye-candy for two hours. And yes, it is more realistic that men are tempted by many of the women they meet.  In Bond's case, it is all of the uber-hot, smart, in danger and/or dangerous women who cross his path.  We don't see him cavorting with the chick selling him a latte.  Maybe the latte chick is hot, but she is likely not dangerous.

Interestingly, Bond has put Jack on alert.  He is now looking at Bond's clothes and deciding he wants taper legged pants.  He is convinced the Craig is hotter than he is.  Seriously. How vain is that? Oh no! A Hollywood movie star is hotter than me!  WTF? Do I bemoan that 100% of the women in Hollywood are hotter than I am? No. That would be like comparing a preschool painting to the Mona Lisa, or a third grader playing the recorder to Miles Davis.  Just don't.  It isn't fair.

So back to James v. Maria.  Bond wins.  Fifty years later, Bond is making new films, chasing new criminals and new skirts.  What is Maria doing? She is singing same songs she has been singing for fifty years. Why don't we catch-up with the Von Trapps at their new home in Vermont, and see a musical about how their marriage is going along?  Why don't we check in on Elizabeth and Darcy?  Because we know better.  See Mr. and Mrs. Bennett.  I am sure they were happy and in love once, too.

* This applies to some areas, not others.  I would like to think that if I were in Austria in the 1930's, I would have stood up to the Nazi's, but history hadn't fully played out by then.  Those people couldn't look into a crystal ball and see the future horrors.

History and Gov. Inslee

History and social studies were my favorite subjects in school, and I majored in history in college. When I see mass fear of people who are Muslim, it makes me terrified.

• Anti-semitism after WWI brought us the Holocaust.
• Colonialism brought us the Trail of Tears.
• The bombing of Pearl Harbor* brought us the internment of Americans of Japanese descent. 
• And for Americans of African descent, we brought them here as slaves, and then treated them with years of racism, which included "separate but equal," lynchings and now mass incarceration.

I don't think I am wrong to compare the situation in Syria to those previously mentioned.  So far, 100,000 Syrians have died in their civil strife. 

Thanks to Washington's Gov. Inslee for being a voice of reason in this conversation on Syria refugees. As you said in The New York Times, national security is an issue and we can address that.  But what about happens when we look at the 99% of Syrians who are being terrorized by a small group of their fellow citizens? I think of my 12 year old son eating nearly 3/4 of a pound of wild caught sockeye salmon for dinner. What does a 12 year old Syrian boy have for dinner, besides hopelessness and despair?

We look back at history and say what could have been done to stop the Holocaust, the Trail of Tears? Why didn't someone say something, do something?  In fairness, many did call this out, but there wasn't a mass outrage. The people who called it out, said it was wrong, were outliers.

This is the same moment now, where future generations will look back, either with pride that we did the right thing or wonder why no one spoke out.

I recall reading about the US methods of interrogation of people they suspected of dangerous international activities prior to the post-9/11 methods of torture.  I wish I had the reference, but the US would bring in these young men, and tell them that the US could provide their aunt needed dental surgery or their mother surgery to remove a tumor.  They would bring in the insurgent's relatives, and provide them with modern medical care. This was not Marathon Man dental care where Laurence Olivier tortured Dustin Hoffman, but real, best in the world, medical treatment for their families. The insurgents were eternally grateful, and were then willing to work with the US State Department.

The point of the story about US not torturing people is that we as Americans have done the right thing to fight terrorism. There are better ways than torturing political prisoners and turning back refugees. We can do it again.

* Note that my family of German and Italian descent did not get interred when Germany invaded Poland or bombed England, nor when Mussolini sided with the Germans.

Hangover

Last night, my neighbor had his 50th birthday party at Salare, a hot new restaurant in Ravenna.  The owner/chef worked under Thomas Keller at The French Laundry and Per Se.  It is exceptionally cool that a guy with these credentials opened a restaurant in our part of town.

The party had hors d'oeuvres--oysters, fried smelt, cheese puffs, buckwheat pancakes with creme fraiche and caviar--and champagne when we walked in, then a five course dinner with two kinds of wine, plus dessert. The last course, lamb, was outstanding.

Over the course of four hours, I had one glass of champagne, and maybe two glasses of wine. The waitress kept filling my wine glass and there was no bottle on the table to tell how much was gone. I never really felt drunk to tipsy or hammered over the course of the evening, but today I had a hangover.

What gives? This is so unfair. All of the hangover, none of the fun.

Free Time and Volunteering

Friday night, I was at a lecture with my daughter at Seattle Central College given by the actor Jesse Eisenberg and writer Sherman Alexie. Outside the auditorium, there was piano and someone was playing what sounded like Chopin. I have no idea what they playing, but they played loudly and with passion. I thought to myself, I wish I could play the piano. Then I thought, I have a piano.  I could learn to play. 

This begs the question of what will I do now with all of my free time. Should I learn to play the piano? Should I look for a paying job? Should I quilt until I go blind? Should I starting running and get some real exercise? Should I go back to trying to write? If I do write, what should I write about?

The two biggest questions I have are Should go back into education? and Should I ever volunteer again? Right now, I am leaning towards a very emphatic no for both. Back when I was a freshman in college, I had told a friend of mine that wanted to marry someone who made a good living, and then volunteer. She chewed me out that that was not a feminist way of life. Women should pursue their own careers and get paid for their work. I thought Oh my god she is right! What am I thinking? And I did have a reasonable career for many years after college.  I figured out what I enjoyed doing and worked hard. I wasn't phoning in a career until Jack finished his medical training and then I could sit around eating bon-bons. And then...

The line from John Lennon's Beautiful Boy seems to be so true: "Life is what happens to you when you are making other plans." Life got in the way, and I somehow became a volunteer against my grander plans.

So I know what I don't want to do, but there lies a vast path before me, full of time, and deciding how to spend it. I realized listening to the lecture was how much I like to write, and how much I have the practice and habits of writer, and I never really saw it coming. Someone in the audience asked Jesse and Sherman about their writing practice. They both don't have a practice, but rather they need to write or else they will explode. Jesse said he writes about things he needs to write about, even if it might go against his better judgement.  In his book Bream Gives Me Hiccups, he writes restaurant reviews from the perspective of a nine year old whose parents are recently divorced. No one asked him to write about that, but he did anyway. I suppose that is what happens when we have free time, and spend it in the ways we wish.

At the same time, there are many things we do not because we love them but we do them because they need to be done. I read an article recently that said "Do what you love" is worst career advice ever.  Most people would want to sit around reading books, doing yoga and knitting. If that were true, who would mine coal or run for School Board?

Grief

Part of losing an election is the grief and sadness that comes with it. Having gone through several grief including events in my life, I am discovering this one isn't much different than ones before.

1. Some people don't know what to say, so they are avoiding me.
2. Some people who I thought would be first in line to console me aren't there, while other people are popping out of the word work to show support.
3. Other people simply say, "I am so sorry you lost. I voted for you." This is perfect.
4. Some people are more upset than I am, and need me to console them. This is hard, but part of life when you are lucky enough to be surrounded by people who love you.
5. Seventeen years ago, people sent cards in the mail. Now people send emails or texts.
6. Some people are happy I lost. "You will save your sanity and your marriage by not serving not the SPS School Board!

Paris

As we all have heard by now, there have been terrorist attacks in Paris that have killed more than 100 people. I was on my way to hear Jesse Eisenberg and Sherman Alexie speak at Seattle Central College with my daughter.  The doors to the event were opened about 45 minutes before the event started. As I looked around the room, I saw images of the Eiffel Tower and pictures of other Parisian icons on the phone screens in the room.

I looked at the White House FB page, and read the text of Obama's speech where he talked about liberte, egalite, and fraternite. I then read another comment below, asking why we don't see the same outpouring of grief when there are tragedies in other countries, like Syria or Egypt, where these events are more common.

I can't listen to NPR because I am too distressed to listen to what I call "The Daily Death Toll" they have at the top of every news show: death due to natural disasters or war or bed weather. Whatever. They list how many people died in massive amounts across the world. It makes me depressed.

And yet, then man who made the comment on the White House FB page had a point. Why did every screen in the Broadway Performance Hall have a snapshot of Paris? Why do we care so much for these people and not so much about others?

I was born a francophile. I thought France oozed sophistication and elegance along with a rich intellectual and artistic heritage. The French are cool and smart. When I was in seventh grade, I got to visit France for the first time. I remember sitting in the bus as it was driving from Brussels to Paris.  I knew that this would mark the moment of before I saw Paris, and in minutes later would be after. 

More Americans have been to Paris than to Syria or Egypt. More Americans have seen movies from France or seen scenes that take place in Paris. American history is deeply entwined with the history of France, the country that abolished its monarchy, albeit in a brutal and bloody manner. We love Paris because we know Paris, and it hurts to see something we love in trauma.

You are in our prayers, city of love, city of light. You are in our prayers.

Brie and Matthew Inman

The campaign is over, as you all know. During the campaign, I had the habit of not eating too much.  I was out and about most of the time, so I didn't have time to snack between meals.  My meals were generally small since I didn't want to be on stage and bloated with a full stomach. I avoided certain foods, like beans so I wouldn't get indigestion.

Now that the campaign is over, I ate a half a pound of brie cheese in a week. I ate with the brie fig paste which is sweet and Triscuits which are crunchy. More importantly, Triscuits ensure I am getting enough fiber. Our old babysitter Miriam used to tease Claire Adele about her love of cheddar cheese.

"If you eat nothing but cheese, you will never poop again," Miriam told Claire Adele one day. That sentence has become part of our family's lore, and hence the Triscuits.

Instead on bon bons, I am drowning my sorrows in cheese. I suppose I should also be getting a reasonable amount of exercise to balance out my new diet. I saw a hilarious video about Matthew Inman and why he runs. He runs because he is hungover, eats corn dogs for breakfast and loves birthday cake. I love this guy. He lives in Fremont. I might stalk him. Not really because that would be creepy. Okay maybe just a little tiny stalking. Nothing that would get me arrested or anything.

No Email

For the first time in nearly a decade, I have almost no need to check my email. The only important emails I am expecting are about plans for events for my kids. I woke this morning, and all of my emails were shopping ads. No urgent must reads or "There is a meeting next Tuesday" announcements. All of my mail came in my "promotions" section of gmail.

I remember once when I was at Ernst & Young and my project was in dormant phase.  The project was being reviewed by the executive staff, and there were nothing to do until they gave us direction for the next phase. It drove me crazy. When I talked to my boss about it, she said to be grateful for the down time. Something else will come next.

Summer in a Day

My campaign for school board is over and I lost.  And I am very, very tired.  I took a nap this afternoon and slept for four hours.  The down side of napping in Seattle in the winter is that I missed almost half of the daylight.  I woke up at 4:00 and the sun was starting to set.  I felt like I was Margot in the Ray Bradbury short story, "All Summer in a Day." I woke up, and all I had to look forward to was night again.