My mother Gail is visiting us from Chicago this weekend. She flew in yesterday afternoon and flies out Monday morning after we've had a lot of fun. That's the plan.
To make her feel especially welcome, I wanted to make sure we had some food in the house that she liked. You know, food = love.
Gail is gluten-free so the other evening Eric stopped by the Whole Foods to get some gluten free items which, not intuitively, are stored at the opposite end of the store from the other baked goods, back by the meat. Not sure if this is some sort of advanced psychology merchandising or if they found that late at night the regular baked goods were bullying the gluten-free items and making them feel bad about themselves.
We ended up getting Ezekiel Bread and gluten free muffin mix which I made into pumpkin muffins last night.
Combine that with fresh coffee with half & half et voila!: Gail is welcomed.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Fresh
I thought I was being a real garden badass by cutting greens from my very own garden yesterday morning and bringing them to work for lunch.
I had a meeting during lunch where I got as far as taking the tupperware out of my bag, putting it on the desk, and opening the top. But I never actually dressed or began to eat the pointy leafy greens.
Halfway through the meeting, my colleague Nicky casually reached over and plucked a little green spider off the rim of the tupperware where it was doing a little spider dance.
Salad remained untouched and was still chilling on my desk at around 3pm when an inchworm wandered out onto the rim of the tupperware and inched his way around and around the container while I talked to a client on the phone.
Once I got off the phone, I raided the snack closet and ate some granola for lunch instead.
But the salad is still in the fridge. It's so hard to throw away something you grow yourself! Maybe I'll wash it several times and eat it today. Or maybe tomorrow.
I had a meeting during lunch where I got as far as taking the tupperware out of my bag, putting it on the desk, and opening the top. But I never actually dressed or began to eat the pointy leafy greens.
Halfway through the meeting, my colleague Nicky casually reached over and plucked a little green spider off the rim of the tupperware where it was doing a little spider dance.
Salad remained untouched and was still chilling on my desk at around 3pm when an inchworm wandered out onto the rim of the tupperware and inched his way around and around the container while I talked to a client on the phone.
Once I got off the phone, I raided the snack closet and ate some granola for lunch instead.
But the salad is still in the fridge. It's so hard to throw away something you grow yourself! Maybe I'll wash it several times and eat it today. Or maybe tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
A tale of two memberships
Membership #1
About two weeks ago I got Eric and I a dual membership to the SFMOMA, which is about a block and a half from our place. It's a great deal for a great museum and you get to feel good about being a patron of the arts. Or something like that.
Saturday the SFMOMA opened up a new rooftop garden gallery for a member preview, with the opening to the public on Sunday. It was a beautiful day so Eric and I decided to try out our new membership and check it out.
We hadn't yet gotten the member welcome packet in the mail but I had gotten an email confirming the membership was effective from date of purchase so we strolled up to the membership desk and asked for our member tickets to the rooftop garden. The young lady working the desk looked in the system and couldn't find us.
"How long ago did you sign up?" she inquired.
"A little over a week ago," I told her.
"Oh. Yeah. You're not in the system yet."
"How long does it take for the membership order to get into the system?" I wondered aloud.
"About five to six weeks," she answered with a straight face. "Did you bring the printout of your membership order? I can't confirm you're actually a member without it."
"Obviously I didn't bring it," I snapped. "Five weeks for an online order to get from one system to another? What year is this?"
Cold stare.
Resolution did not involve clawing her eyes out but it did involve me imagining doing that while I showed her the confirmation receipt email on my blackberry. And off we went to enjoy what turned out to be kind of an underwhelming sculpture patio.
Membership #2
We've been to the symphony several times recently and have found it sufficiently delightful that it seemed membership for next season was a grand idea. When we learned that the student membership is 50% off the regular price, it became an imperative.
The box office is only open from 10am-6pm during the week so one day last week after a doctor's appointment nearby, I stopped into the Symphony Box Office to get us signed up with a subscription.
I started by confirming that I could purchase two student subscriptions*. Off to a good start. I thought I was all prepared with what I wanted but the lady behind the window threw me a curve ball: student discount only applies to certain programs. She started reading me different options and I was immediately confused because I need to see things written down. So I asked her to show me the different options on paper, which caused her to take a deep breath and roll her eyes; this was only the first of many times she would do that during our unfortunate and lengthy interaction. For some reason I was incredibly challenged as I tried to explain what I wanted to her: dates, programs, performers, series, all swirled together in a soupy mess. She was exhausted by me.
"Where are you a student?" she looked at me dubiously.
"Um, Stanford," I said sort of sheepishly, knowing that I was tarnishing Stanford's reputation as I said this.
She sighed again and rolled her eyes. It took at least another 15 minutes before I got out of there with two student symphony subscriptions in hand. At least she didn't suggest I might also qualify for a discount for the disabled.
*I get a courtesy ID from Stanford through Eric which gives me access to Stanford facilities as well as student discounts when people don't look closely enough to see it isn't really a student ID but just a courtesy ID.
About two weeks ago I got Eric and I a dual membership to the SFMOMA, which is about a block and a half from our place. It's a great deal for a great museum and you get to feel good about being a patron of the arts. Or something like that.
Saturday the SFMOMA opened up a new rooftop garden gallery for a member preview, with the opening to the public on Sunday. It was a beautiful day so Eric and I decided to try out our new membership and check it out.
We hadn't yet gotten the member welcome packet in the mail but I had gotten an email confirming the membership was effective from date of purchase so we strolled up to the membership desk and asked for our member tickets to the rooftop garden. The young lady working the desk looked in the system and couldn't find us.
"How long ago did you sign up?" she inquired.
"A little over a week ago," I told her.
"Oh. Yeah. You're not in the system yet."
"How long does it take for the membership order to get into the system?" I wondered aloud.
"About five to six weeks," she answered with a straight face. "Did you bring the printout of your membership order? I can't confirm you're actually a member without it."
"Obviously I didn't bring it," I snapped. "Five weeks for an online order to get from one system to another? What year is this?"
Cold stare.
Resolution did not involve clawing her eyes out but it did involve me imagining doing that while I showed her the confirmation receipt email on my blackberry. And off we went to enjoy what turned out to be kind of an underwhelming sculpture patio.
Membership #2
We've been to the symphony several times recently and have found it sufficiently delightful that it seemed membership for next season was a grand idea. When we learned that the student membership is 50% off the regular price, it became an imperative.
The box office is only open from 10am-6pm during the week so one day last week after a doctor's appointment nearby, I stopped into the Symphony Box Office to get us signed up with a subscription.
I started by confirming that I could purchase two student subscriptions*. Off to a good start. I thought I was all prepared with what I wanted but the lady behind the window threw me a curve ball: student discount only applies to certain programs. She started reading me different options and I was immediately confused because I need to see things written down. So I asked her to show me the different options on paper, which caused her to take a deep breath and roll her eyes; this was only the first of many times she would do that during our unfortunate and lengthy interaction. For some reason I was incredibly challenged as I tried to explain what I wanted to her: dates, programs, performers, series, all swirled together in a soupy mess. She was exhausted by me.
"Where are you a student?" she looked at me dubiously.
"Um, Stanford," I said sort of sheepishly, knowing that I was tarnishing Stanford's reputation as I said this.
She sighed again and rolled her eyes. It took at least another 15 minutes before I got out of there with two student symphony subscriptions in hand. At least she didn't suggest I might also qualify for a discount for the disabled.
*I get a courtesy ID from Stanford through Eric which gives me access to Stanford facilities as well as student discounts when people don't look closely enough to see it isn't really a student ID but just a courtesy ID.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Yeah it's that easy
I taught a yoga class last night at a studio I haven't taught at before. I was really excited to try out a new venue with new students, and it is between home and work so it could be an easy commute if I wanted to teach there every now and then.
I'd never been there before so I got there a bit early, chatted with the owner, got a tour of the space and got all set up. It was still about 10 minutes before class was supposed to begin, so I set about chilling and waiting for time to pass.
At 6pm, no one was there.
A woman stuck her head into the studio and asked if the class was going to happen. I said I thought so but wasn't at all convinced of it myself. I stepped out into the check-in area where the two staff women had been sitting and they were gone. The place was completely deserted.
Odd, no? I would think that if you were advertising a yoga class you might spend, oh I don't know, at a minimum, the ten minutes before the scheduled start time actually sitting at a desk where people interested in taking the class could give you their money.
I ended up teaching the class to two students - a regular and the woman who wandered in off the street. For a while it didn't feel like it was going so well, but I tried to adjust real-time and at the end both women seemed pleased with the experience they had had.
At 6pm, no one was there.
A woman stuck her head into the studio and asked if the class was going to happen. I said I thought so but wasn't at all convinced of it myself. I stepped out into the check-in area where the two staff women had been sitting and they were gone. The place was completely deserted.
Odd, no? I would think that if you were advertising a yoga class you might spend, oh I don't know, at a minimum, the ten minutes before the scheduled start time actually sitting at a desk where people interested in taking the class could give you their money.
I ended up teaching the class to two students - a regular and the woman who wandered in off the street. For a while it didn't feel like it was going so well, but I tried to adjust real-time and at the end both women seemed pleased with the experience they had had.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Just lounging around
In anticipation of the coming apocalypse, and because it is fun, I try to do a little bit of vacation every day and a whole lot of it on the weekend. It is less about going physically away or doing specific things and more about a state of mind. I think it also helps when you have the right conditions, as we did this past weekend, namely really crisp clean air and plenty of sunshine. When you have those things, then just sitting on the velvet couch with the windows open after getting thoroughly worked over at yoga will send you right to vacation land, which is conveniently located near nap land.
There were two other events this weekend that served to transport one from the here and now to another time and place, namely a nine-year local area college reunion for my class and going to see Star Trek. They were, in very different ways, both quite effective at taking me on a journey.
The class of 2000 San Francisco Bay Area reunion was Saturday evening at a barbershop lounge* started by a classmate two years ago and was a great venue to learn that I am apparently the only person from my class who hasn't founded or been elected board president of a non-profit. It was, suffice it to say, an impressive parade of do-goodery. It also turned out that four of the eight rowers in my freshman boat on the crew team were there, along with three of the freshman men's eight. I don't know what that means other than that we like free food. Probably nothing.
Star Trek, on Sunday evening, was great fun and took me somewhere very far away. Other than the very beginning which made me cry (it was a pretty horrible scene but I don't expect that that's a good enough excuse for crying at Star Trek) I thought it was some good old-fashioned escapist entertainment with clear good guys and bad guys and lots of unadulterated heroism. It came along with a healthy dose of "daddy issues" of course because it was directed by JJ Abrams, but still managed to be a good time. The experience was further enhanced by seeing it at the Kabuki which is a theatre where the balcony has reserved seating and sells food and drinks. No, I'm not noticing a pattern here.
And now, the week begins, with a heap of work to tackle. I am already looking forward to a little bit of vacation this evening, perhaps at the Clementina Lounge.
*This "barber lounge" concept is a new generation of barber shops based on market research that showed that men would spend more time and money at a barber shop if it were actually just a bar with booze and a comprehensive selection of men's magazines where it turned out you could also get your hair cut.
There were two other events this weekend that served to transport one from the here and now to another time and place, namely a nine-year local area college reunion for my class and going to see Star Trek. They were, in very different ways, both quite effective at taking me on a journey.
The class of 2000 San Francisco Bay Area reunion was Saturday evening at a barbershop lounge* started by a classmate two years ago and was a great venue to learn that I am apparently the only person from my class who hasn't founded or been elected board president of a non-profit. It was, suffice it to say, an impressive parade of do-goodery. It also turned out that four of the eight rowers in my freshman boat on the crew team were there, along with three of the freshman men's eight. I don't know what that means other than that we like free food. Probably nothing.
Star Trek, on Sunday evening, was great fun and took me somewhere very far away. Other than the very beginning which made me cry (it was a pretty horrible scene but I don't expect that that's a good enough excuse for crying at Star Trek) I thought it was some good old-fashioned escapist entertainment with clear good guys and bad guys and lots of unadulterated heroism. It came along with a healthy dose of "daddy issues" of course because it was directed by JJ Abrams, but still managed to be a good time. The experience was further enhanced by seeing it at the Kabuki which is a theatre where the balcony has reserved seating and sells food and drinks. No, I'm not noticing a pattern here.
And now, the week begins, with a heap of work to tackle. I am already looking forward to a little bit of vacation this evening, perhaps at the Clementina Lounge.
*This "barber lounge" concept is a new generation of barber shops based on market research that showed that men would spend more time and money at a barber shop if it were actually just a bar with booze and a comprehensive selection of men's magazines where it turned out you could also get your hair cut.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Deepish agriculture
Last night we went to hear Michael Pollan speak. The title of his talk, which is part of the Seminars About Long-term Thinking (SALT) series with the Long Now Foundation, was "Deep Agriculture."
I really like how Michael Pollan thinks and talks about agriculture and the entire US food system. He approaches this massive and gnarly mess in a positive and solution-focused way: in spite of the overwhelming nature of the problem, which he does not skirt, you somehow leave feeling like we can actually fix this rather than feeling beaten down.
Food, he pointed out, is the shadow problem which is driving some of the largest problems we are grappling with as a society right now: climate change, the skyrocketing cost of health care, and elusive energy independence. The industrialization of agriculture over the past 50 years was single-mindedly pursued in the service of ending hunger (and making certain parties extremely wealthy, but bear with me a moment): I think we can say that the system has over-performed on that count. It is time to rethink what we are optimizing for, and then line up appropraite technologies and subsidies, regulation and other policy incentives and disincentives to create a system that better serves the health and well-being of the American public.
What's exciting is that we finally have a president who "gets it" and sees the path to fixing this. What's troubling is that he has said privately that he doesn't yet see the movement. He's listening for it. Michelle's planted an organic garden at the White House. But he needs the American public to demand it in a way they are not yet doing today.
The demand is clearly building, however. Michael Pollan doesn't know about my rooftop garden and my fantasies of small-scale farming life, but he did say that not a day goes by that he doesn't have some young professional - programmer, analyst, etc - share with him that they are cashing out and buying a farm. This makes me feel so much less original in my instinct to do just that and makes me wonder if what we are talking about is a real movement here.
In fact, the biggest obstacle he cited in getting from where we are today to a healthier, more resilient, more sustainable food system is that we don't have enough farmers. Today, one million farmers feed over 300 million people. He estimates that we will see something closer to 20 million farmers in the US by 2050.
How do we get there? Michael Pollan says: "we need to make farming cool."
I really like how Michael Pollan thinks and talks about agriculture and the entire US food system. He approaches this massive and gnarly mess in a positive and solution-focused way: in spite of the overwhelming nature of the problem, which he does not skirt, you somehow leave feeling like we can actually fix this rather than feeling beaten down.
Food, he pointed out, is the shadow problem which is driving some of the largest problems we are grappling with as a society right now: climate change, the skyrocketing cost of health care, and elusive energy independence. The industrialization of agriculture over the past 50 years was single-mindedly pursued in the service of ending hunger (and making certain parties extremely wealthy, but bear with me a moment): I think we can say that the system has over-performed on that count. It is time to rethink what we are optimizing for, and then line up appropraite technologies and subsidies, regulation and other policy incentives and disincentives to create a system that better serves the health and well-being of the American public.
What's exciting is that we finally have a president who "gets it" and sees the path to fixing this. What's troubling is that he has said privately that he doesn't yet see the movement. He's listening for it. Michelle's planted an organic garden at the White House. But he needs the American public to demand it in a way they are not yet doing today.
The demand is clearly building, however. Michael Pollan doesn't know about my rooftop garden and my fantasies of small-scale farming life, but he did say that not a day goes by that he doesn't have some young professional - programmer, analyst, etc - share with him that they are cashing out and buying a farm. This makes me feel so much less original in my instinct to do just that and makes me wonder if what we are talking about is a real movement here.
In fact, the biggest obstacle he cited in getting from where we are today to a healthier, more resilient, more sustainable food system is that we don't have enough farmers. Today, one million farmers feed over 300 million people. He estimates that we will see something closer to 20 million farmers in the US by 2050.
How do we get there? Michael Pollan says: "we need to make farming cool."
Monday, May 4, 2009
Take a good look at my face
Eric and I went to a friend’s wedding in Santa Cruz on Saturday. It was a small wedding at their house in the mountains and a disproportionate share of the group were Iowans. The ceremony was untraditional and three hours long, but had some nice moments.
As we got into the evening, the dance party, courtesy of someone’s laptop, started to get going on the deck under an awning onto which they were projecting the laptop screen and showing the youtube videos along with the songs. People would shout out requests at the end of each song, and then someone would search it and bring up the video. This was all going swimmingly (assuming you like random German techno music) until someone shouts out “Smokey Robinson Tracks of my Tears” (yes, I suspect this was one of the parents who were also very much part of the dance party).
It was searched and clicked on; everyone is dancing. The video is not of Smokey himself but instead is showing pictures of happy cows- the Iowans are loving it. Then the screen goes white and shows the words “now for some real cows…” The next image on the screen is of a CAFO cow that looks, um, kind of messed up. There’s a collective confused noise from the dancers.
Next image: CAFO cow with half its face missing, covered in pus and blood and slime. The whole crowd goes “uuuggghhhH!!!” and someone dives towards the laptop to stop this delightful PETA video from ruining the wedding reception.
I laughed so hard I cried. It might have been my favorite moment from the whole wedding.
As we got into the evening, the dance party, courtesy of someone’s laptop, started to get going on the deck under an awning onto which they were projecting the laptop screen and showing the youtube videos along with the songs. People would shout out requests at the end of each song, and then someone would search it and bring up the video. This was all going swimmingly (assuming you like random German techno music) until someone shouts out “Smokey Robinson Tracks of my Tears” (yes, I suspect this was one of the parents who were also very much part of the dance party).
It was searched and clicked on; everyone is dancing. The video is not of Smokey himself but instead is showing pictures of happy cows- the Iowans are loving it. Then the screen goes white and shows the words “now for some real cows…” The next image on the screen is of a CAFO cow that looks, um, kind of messed up. There’s a collective confused noise from the dancers.
Next image: CAFO cow with half its face missing, covered in pus and blood and slime. The whole crowd goes “uuuggghhhH!!!” and someone dives towards the laptop to stop this delightful PETA video from ruining the wedding reception.
I laughed so hard I cried. It might have been my favorite moment from the whole wedding.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
