Thursday, February 28, 2008

In Treatment

In college, I spent a lot of time around the theater. My roommate, and several of my close friends, were acting majors and provided me a peek at their world. I particularly enjoyed shows in the Studio Theater, which was an intimate environment. The sets and costumes were usually simple, and the plays performed there tended to have a small scale. Shakespeare and elaborate musicals were better suited to the main theater. The reason that I loved the Studio Theater, however, were the moments that involved just a couple of actors and some dialog.

I recently read that the most dramatic thing that can happen on a stage or a screen is to watch two intelligent humans have an intense conversation. Some of my favorite moments on TV bear this out. Homicide, the best cop show I've ever seen (I don't consider The Wire to be a cop show), had several episodes that still stick in mind a decade later. I've been watching the new HBO show In Treatment and it epitomizes this approach to drama.

The show runs 5 nights a week and it about a psychotherapist, Paul. Each episode is a 30 minute therapy session; Mondays with a doctor who falls in love with Paul, Tuesdays with a fighter pilot who dropped a bomb on an Iraqi school, Wednesdays with a teenage gymnast, Thursdays with a couple for marriage counseling, and on Friday Paul meet with his own therapist. All that happens in each episode is the conversation that Paul has, and that's all we need.

There are some great actors in this show (Michelle Forbes, an alum of Homicide, plays Paul's wife while Dianne Wiest plays his therapist - they both are amazing) which is absolutely necessary since there is nothing but the words for the actor to hide behind. The best description I can think of is that the show is theatrical.

The first three weeks are available for free on iTunes. Just enough to get you hooked!

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

I'm not a morning person

When I'm on vacation, and have no particular schedule to keep, I tend to go to bed around 2-3am and wake up between 10-11. Some people need a cup of coffee before they really wake, I need a shower before I can think straight. However, there are a few times when I love the morning.

The summer after I graduated from high school, I worked for a restaurant as a stock boy/bus boy. Only the chef would arrive at the restaurant before I did. He would give me a list of all the produce, meats and dry goods that the various cooks needed that day, and I would go to the stock room in the basement and start the process of bringing everything up to the kitchen.

Most of the time, a professional kitchen is full of noise, stress and chaos. There was something magical about being there when it was silent, and then watch thing slowly come to life. Various people would trickle in; the sous chef, other line cooks, the pastry chef. The quiet would turn to a whirlwind while the simple raw ingredients I brought upstairs would be transfigured into a tiramisu or a spicy seafood marinara.

While the kitchen where I currently work does not have the same kind of frenzy one would find in a restaurant's kitchen, I still love the mornings there. It starts quiet and still. I love turning on the light and walking into the cooler. Seeing the herbs and cheeses and pork loins sitting on the shelves, while knowing that later that day someone out there will sit down with their family and enjoy those same ingredients in a great meal, is incredibly satisfying. It's a great way to start the day, even for someone who is not a morning person.

Photos from a visit to The City Market in Kansas City last fall.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Go Karen!

In high school, I was a proud tuba player in the band. We had a great low brass section with numerous members of the various all-state bands. One of the best parts of playing the tuba was how much fun our section always had. A girl who was a year younger than me, Karen Chandler, was responsible for much of that.

Now, if you saw Karen walking down the street and speculated about what instrument she might play, the tuba would absolutely be your last guess. The piccolo? Maybe. The clarinet? Sure. Little Karen playing the tuba? Never! Not only was she vertically challenged, but she probably didn't weigh too much more than the tuba itself.

Karen was one tough senorita, though. We started practicing for marching season in the middle of August when temps routinely stayed in the upper 90's, and despite grumbling from everyone else, I don't ever remember hearing her complain. And she had to be, um, diplomatic to put up with the macho posturing of all the low brass band geeks with whom she had to spend a lot of time (not to mention dealing with me as her section leader!)

But Karen did more than simply put up with us, she contributed a sweet, cheerful attitude to the goofiest section in the band. She also made incredible mint chocolate chip brownies that would show up in the tuba closet every so often. She knew how much I loved those brownies and was thoughtful enough to write the recipe for them in my senior yearbook.

I was reminded of all of this yesterday when I picked up the front page of the Sunday Kansas City Star. The lead story is about how Karen is using her toughness, tact, and optimism in the western province of Farah, Afghanistan. She works for the State Department as a representative on one of 25 Provincial Reconstruction Teams.

Last year, the reconstruction team on which Chandler serves built five high schools, including a $1.2 million “School of Excellence” offering higher-level secular and religious education to more than 1,000 students. The PRT also developed about 120 wells and spent nearly $4 million on bridges and roads.

Chandler’s role is to serve as liaison between the people and their young government.

Sitting down on rocks recently with a wrinkled tribal elder, she was buoyed by the man’s request for an American flag that a village wished to fly in appreciation for its new bridge.

Still, she noted, “the most important thing is not that they trust in us, the PRT. We’ve earned their trust. But we want them to eventually trust their own government.”
Karen is involved in the most important part of the task of helping the Afghans achieve stability in their country. Until small, local institutions are built, and the local population not only learns to trust but also participate in local government, democracy and stability will never come to that country.

Based on his rhetoric, on his shifting attention away from Afghanistan towards Iraq, and on the complete failure of planning in Iraq, Karen's boss in the White House does not seem to understand the significance of what she is doing. Bush acts as if the military is the most important tool the US has at its disposal to curb terrorism and promote democracy abroad. The military certainly as its role; I know that Karen would not be able to do her job in Afghanistan if the Taliban was still in power and she is currently being protected by members of the Arizona National Guard.

The most significant tool we have, however, is Karen and her colleagues who are listening and building relationships and helping to build local institutions. That's how we will win the so-called war on terror. A batch of mint chocolate chip brownies probably wouldn't hurt, either!

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Good Night


Leo loves his bed after a hard day of walking, chasing tennis balls, and begging for popcorn.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Ambition

I've never been a particularly ambitious fellow. I decided upon my college major at the latest possible moment, the end of my sophomore year. My choice, Literary & Cultural Studies, was greatly influenced by the relatively thin list of required classes for LCS. This allowed me to take more classes in other fields, like history and philosophy. (I didn't want to get tied into any one thing)

I did not seek out either of the first two jobs I had after graduation, I was recruited in both instances. There was a time while I lived in Washington state, after I left my youth ministry position at the town's Lutheran church, when I floated between a number of different things, never really developing a plan for my future. I took a couple of seminary classes, I did a bit of work as a personal chef, I contemplated being a full time house-husband. Once again, I ended up falling into something. The church I was attending was seeking a Director of Family Ministry, and I talked with the pastor about helping out on an interim basis while their search continued. She persuaded me to meet with their search committee, and I ended up on staff there. It was the best ministry job I've ever had, but it was not at all the result of any ambition on my part.

Last summer, when I started thinking about life after a divorce, I had a hard time picturing what I should do. It was kind of tough to think about being the Director of Family Ministry at a church when my own family just fell apart. The church graciously communicated to me that they would support me if I wanted to stay on staff, but I just did not think that I had the emotional or spiritual reserves to be effective in that position.

I have always loved to cook; some of my favorite memories from growing up were spending a Saturday afternoon making chili or goulash with my dad while watching college football on TV. Everyone in my family is a good cook and my sister, Monte, is a baker who currently works (at least until my new niece or nephew is born in the next couple of weeks!) in the test kitchen at King Arthur Flour. She and I have dreamed over the years about running a bed & breakfast or a bakery/cafe together in our retirement. It never seemed like it could happen any sooner than that because my ex has an incredible job in Washington that we would not leave, and Monte and her husband intend to settle down in the Midwest.

Since I am no longer tied to the Pacific Northwest, I decided to actually do something about that dream (which is now focused more on the bakery cafe idea than on the B&B) Could this be the beginnings of some ambition appearing in my life?

For the past three months I have been the assistant manager at a new fresh-take-&-bake kitchen in Kansas City. We make meals that people can pick up on their way home from work and cook for dinner that night. I get to do a lot of the cooking, help with the marketing, help with the training of the employees, and brainstorm strategies for growing the business with the owner. I also observed (and helped with a little bit) part of the process of opening a new business. The owner has been wonderful to work for, and he has been intentional about saying things like "such-and-such is something you will need to keep in mind when you and your sister open your cafe." I have a hard time imaging a better place for me right now to learn the things I will need to know to make the dream of running a cafe a reality.

Why I needed to stop blogging 2 years ago


Hat tip to Ezra Klein.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

All that really mattered then was that I was a man

...And those were the days of roses,
poetry and prose and Martha
all I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows,

we'd packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.

And I was always so impulsive,

I guess that I still am,
And all that really mattered then

was that I was a man.
I guess that our being together

was never meant to be.

And Martha, Martha,
I love you can't you see?

-
from "Martha" by Tom Waits


I've liked Tom Waits since the evening my college roommate and a couple of friends were hanging out in our dorm and playing our latest finds from the various used CD stores around campus. I think it was Dusty who played "I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You" from Waits' 1973 record Closing Time. I could not get that haunting, melancholy ballad out of my head. The Song "Martha" is from the same album, and evokes a similar mood.

The song is sung from the perspective of a middle aged man, Tom Frost, who looks up a lover from his youth, connects with her over coffee, and reminisces about their past. My favorite line from the song is "And I was always so impulsive, I guess that I still am, and all that really mattered then was that I was a man." I was listening to the song tonight while taking Leo for a walk and started thinking about why that line resonates with me so much.

I think it's the way that Waits delivers "that I was a man," with all of the bravado of a 20 year old but also with the weariness and knowledge of an older man with many regrets, that gets me. I don't want to be a Tom Frost singing to my own "Martha" 20 years from now, but I can see ways that I was on that road.

My problem was never the need to prove how manly I was, it was almost the opposite. All that really mattered to me, was that I was a sophisticated, competent, intellectual, sensitive man who was nothing like the young Tom Frost. I still don't think that there is anything inherently wrong with being sophisticated or competent or intellectual or sensitive. The need to be that kind of man, however, kept me from ever dealing with the times in my life when I was not particularly sensitive or had it all together. The denial of who I really was, good and bad, did more damage to myself and all of my relationships than if had occasionally acted like the selfish prick that deep down I was from time to time.

Fortunately, I'm not middle aged, and I likely have more years ahead of me than behind me. I have learned more about myself in the past year than I have at any other point in my life. One of those things that I'm starting to learn is to embrace that inner selfish prickishness. If I deny it exists, then I can't surrender it and be changed.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Sunset in the Flint Hills



I've been away for a long time, over 2 years. I stopped blogging for several reasons, but mostly because I was spending too much time online and I needed to cut back. Much has changed since then, and I think perhaps it's time for me to start writing again.

The changes in my life are big; I'm now divorced, I have moved half way across the country (the picture above is from the Flint Hills in Kansas-just a few hours away from my new home in Kansas City), and I have changed careers. Other things have stayed the same; I still am a political junkie, I still am fascinated by the ways politics interacts with theology, and I still love music.

My blog previously focused almost exclusively on politics. I imagine that I will continue to write about that subject a lot but hope to branch out and talk about other things that I love (cooking, music, hiking, etc.) All of my previous jobs involved writing, whether it was producing an entire newsletter, writing articles, preaching, or even writing curriculum. I don't write anything for my new job (which I'm sure I'll blog about in the future) so I though it would be good to have some place where I force myself to organize my thoughts on a computer screen. I was also inspired to blog again by a conversation with a friend last night.

So, here we go!

Friday, February 01, 2008

February Recipe

(Each month, I include a recipe in the monthly newsletter for the kitchen where I work. These recipes need to complement the entrees on our menu that particular month, and are targeted towards our average customer. That means it needs to be simple, require little active prep work, and use only the most basic ingredients. Here is what we published in February.)

Store bought salad dressing is fine, but when it is so easy to make vinaigrette with ingredients you likely already have in your kitchen, why not do it yourself? There are three parts to vinaigrette; the oil, the acid, and the seasonings. Process any firm items first in your food processor, and then add the liquids and herbs.

Oil: I like to use heart-healthy olive oil (no need for super expensive extra-virgin olive oil - save that for a use when the flavor of the oil is featured) but any vegetable oil works. A dash of nut oil (walnut, sesame, etc.) can add some depth to the flavor. Olive oil can solidify when it's refrigerated, so be sure to take your vinaigrette out of the fridge 10-15 minutes before dinner (10-15 seconds in a microwave can also do the trick) a quick shake or stir before serving and you will be ready.

Acid: Vinegar will be the main acid (balsamic, cider, red or white wine, sherry, or whatever vinegar you have on hand) Replacing a portion of the vinegar with lemon or other citrus juice is wonderful.

Seasonings: Let your imagination run wild. Some suggestions; salt, pepper, fresh garlic, nuts (I always keep a bag of pecans, walnuts, or almonds in my freezer so that it's easy to pull out 3-4 at a time without worrying about them going rancid), any fresh herbs you have in the fridge, sun dried tomatoes, Dijon or brown mustard, prepared pesto, Romano or Parmesan cheese, etc.

Here's an example the proportions I typically use:
In a food processor, pulse 1/2 a clove of garlic with three or four almonds until the puree is a uniform consistency.

Then add
1 cup of olive oil,
1/4 cup of red wine vinegar,
1/4 cup of balsamic vinegar,
1/4 cup of lemon juice,
A hand full of fresh parsley,
2 tsp of Dijon Mustard, and
A dash of salt and pepper.

Process the vinaigrette until it has a uniform consistency, and then keep going for about 20 additional seconds to ensure that it is emulsified and will not separate. Then taste it. If it's too tart, add 1/2 tsp of sugar. Adjust any other seasonings to your taste.