On political speech

In this season of fraught political dialogue, if you can call it dialogue rather than diatribe and demagoguery, I entertained the thought of weighing in on some topics. However, when I read the editorial pages I find them to be so partisan that reasonable speech seems as remote as the stars and unheeded when it pops up. I think the reason why local papers publish letters to the editor is to prevent angry hotheads from actually doing something they will regret. It is a real public service to deflect the misguided from some intemperate or criminal act. Mercy! Hasn't the conversation reached the shouting pitch on so many topics? If my stated mission is the preservation of civilization and civility, ought I not add my voice to the many?

On topical subjects I am fairly familiar and we do take two newspapers in the morning. We also listen to radio and watch television, so we are fully exposed to reporting. Journalism used to be a profession in which practitioners prided themselves on an impartial presentation of issues. Now I see the trend is toward advocacy where many salient facts are being presented in a biased fashion. Truth becomes a casualty in this and we are then victims of our own prejudices since we tend to seek out opinions which confirm our little preferences. We delude ourselves by affirming how smart we are to share in the opinion of so many. Don't get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with advocacy. My Daddy was a lawyer and he practiced that craft all his life for the benefit of many good people.

The disturbing element in this stew of opinions is that everyone is shouting at everyone else, if not directly then by proxy. The name-calling and the scurrilous remarks are characteristic of schoolyard behavior. This becomes all the more serious when adults refine and routinely practice these rhetorical vices in the name of tribalism. That's the beginning of real trouble and what begins as local gang warfare becomes a model for international behavior, and you know where that leads.

We have lived through many disagreements in this country on very broad topics and some have led to war. That was a terrible time when the nation was riven. Throughout those travails the citizen-statesman was a person to be respected, someone who offered his time, energy and beliefs for the common good. The professional politician of today has usurped this mantle of formerly noble service and winks at his financial backers with an eye to re-election only. It is small wonder that there is so much mistrust of and anger at our elected representatives. Their class has been smeared recently by the conduct of too many of their number.

In keeping with my rating scheme for gauging the value of aspects of modern living, I had expected to offer worthiness rankings on the political front by awarding up to three tall hats for excellence. It now seems I will have to hold them in my top desk drawer until the tone of the current political discourse improves considerably.

Many kisses, Celeste

And it's not even February!

What is it about the winter blahs? Some of us suffer more severely than others beginning in September when the sun begins its grimly lowering arcs in earnest. Does your mood shift into low gear? Do you feel despondent, discouraged and depressed? For many of us this is a naturally occurring phenomenon and if your heritage is not of the Scandinavian or Eskimo origin, you may feel all of the above in noticeable intensity. Right now it’s time to cheer up with a little self-help!

Probably the acronym SAD preceded the naming of Seasonal Affective Disorder in an obvious attempt at linguistic cuteness. Nonetheless there are some well publicized strategies such as increasing your vitamin D intake and placing artificial light sources in your face which promise to offer simple solutions to attenuate the effects of this pernicious condition. Really it can be debilitating and make one feel like lying in bed all day. Don’t turn your face to the wall! Snap out of it! The first step is to recognize that this condition exists and that you may be a victim of it. Ha! Does that sound like certain other programs? Of course it does but it doesn’t make it any less meaningful.

Here are a couple of my tried and true strategies: See live theater, browse the seed catalogues, feed the birds and have tea at 4 pm. Stay engaged by any and all means. Whether it is for a cabaret, black box or big venue you should go to the effort of dressing and going out and being among your people. Loneliness is not your friend at this time and mingling is prescribed. Just the sight of those luxurious garden blooms can lift spirits, no matter that you have thrown away too much money in the past on gardening projects. It is about optimism for goodness sake! Go ahead and indulge yourself in some more hopefulness. It is worth the price. Those titmouses are pure pleasure in song and activity at any feeder. Put out the good stuff, the hulled sunflower chips and seeds, and guard as best you can against the silly squirrels whose craftiness in the end has to be admired. Chickadees, house finches, nuthatches, blue jays, cardinals and goldfinches will find you too so revel in the sight of them all. Enjoy a pleasant cup of Darjeeling tea in your favorite chair and perhaps butter a scone to go with it at the precise time of day when darkness begins its subtle intrusion and before you repair to the kitchen for any evening preparations.

In addition to these modest proposals, you might also create a windowsill kitchen garden of herbs. I admit that these are notoriously difficult to maintain with any success; however, the satisfaction from adding freshly grown seasoning to your dishes is not to be denied. Choose marjoram, thyme, parsley and rosemary to begin. Give them as much window light as you possibly can to prevent them from paling and stretching. You might also consider a weekly massage and frequent manicures or pedicures in order to boost your immunity against the blahs. Don’t forget to pick some bright and surprising colors. Be daring! These treatments do cost money so any home styling or care is to be encouraged and time set aside for them is well worth it. All of those colors you pay for are available elsewhere, the nail kits are affordable and there are some clever massage devices on the market too, as you well know. Banish the blahs!

So,

Celeste

Awards season

I haven't won any awards lately but when someone remarks that I look fabulous I have to pause for a reality check. Do they really mean it? How long since I last saw them? Have I done anything particular that day to set myself off from an ordinary appearance? Do I look so dreadful that someone feels compelled to compliment me in order to buck up my spirits? Am I near death? What about my shoes? Has my personal assistant sabotaged me because I failed to acknowledge her new hairdo? These are all red carpet thoughts, which though unspoken, must race through the minds of honorees posing in front of photographers. It is really only me from Euphoria, South Carolina after all. Those poor people who swagger and swan must feel utterly false if they give any credence to the praise and adulation fairly shouted at them. Still, a statuette is a nice memento. I like to think that they take it all in as a necessary procession of vanity for the sake of job security. What's wrong with that?

The “awards season”, now in full force, is such a peculiar time. In fact it is a bit of a silly season. It intervenes in that slack time between New Year's and the next traditional family holiday which used to be Valentine's Day. Now the Super Bowl has insinuated itself into that space in a hyperattenuated one day orgy of concussions and fast food. At least two and perhaps three generations of Americans now worship at its gladiatorial altar so it must be important. If nothing else it has given us the best day for travel in the whole year. If it were around today, the cover of The Saturday Evening Post would portray Grandma and Grandpa lovingly passing the salsa dip and pizza slices to their adoringly distracted grandchildren, whose attention is charmingly diverted by the enormous wide screen television. That's a real holiday tableau, with their lively spaniel Tippy slyly harvesting errant chip morsels from under the sofa!

But “awards season” lingers for weeks, one event closely following another, as if the news cycle is on a continuous loop. This hypnotic cavalcade of over-the-top appearances has all the allure of a July parade without the floats. Our attention is focused on clothing, shoes and hairstyles if not the recognition of actual talent. Testing the limits of good taste is a recreational effort for the gods and goddesses who seem entirely at ease with the concept of competition in the “arts”. If it weren't for the rigors of the calendar and the annualization of these events, the presenters might as well forget about rolling out the red carpet and just leave it in place. Take it up for an occasional dry cleaning and be done with it! We love our stars, the royalty of this nation.

Then again, a simply sincere compliment can offer a precious lifeline to someone who needs it. It doesn't have to be agreed upon by a committee of peers or industry specialists; it just has to come from a place of truth and unselfishness and be offered without a hidden agenda. It might be a good practice to look for opportunities every day to recognize someone. It might not be in front of millions of people but in its exchange there may a richness and a reward that is incalculably more worthy.

Smoochies, Celeste

On fruitcake again

Some foods, as I have written, provoke memories by their invocation and fruitcake appears to occupy a priority position for many people, spanning a wide spectrum of emotion. It is more like a lightning rod or hot button. From the remarks gathered, people seem to love or hate it with little ground in between. It ranks right up there with clear toys and ribbon candy as a sentimental seasonal staple in some homes. In others it is forbidden entrance for reasons that probably dare not be mentioned.

The list of foods that are considered anathema is short at our house since we pride ourselves on being inclusive yet discriminating. They derive their power from childhood encounters that terrorize in much the same fashion as “The Creature from the Black Lagoon” did. Everything about the physical appearance of these dishes can be repulsive to some but for me they are avoided because one had less than pleasant experiences directly related to them.

Meat eaters ought not to be squeamish of the raw material which they enjoy cooked in so many styles. Beef tongue holds a special place for me. Padding into the kitchen in my pajamas one sleepy morning, I had an unexpected and startling encounter with it. This monstrous protrusion over the edge of the cooking pot provoked a screaming fit not easily forgotten. No matter the delicacy of its taste, this will never grace our table.

Certainly these are irrational food prejudices but no less valid than any other preference. As a way to stretch short provisions in time of scarcity, chipped beef on toast has afforded generations with a palatable alternative to starvation. I have always found its appearance so repulsive that, even though I was mercilessly prodded at the family table, I uniformly declined to eat it in favor of the kindlier fate of an empty stomach and banishment to my room.

On the sunnier side of the equation I place fruitcake and its kindred panettone, as holiday preparations unrivalled in symbolism and reward, evocative of tradition and celebration of family. To chase away the winter blues there is nothing finer than a thinly sliced and delicately made slice of fruitcake or panettone accompanied by a cup of Assam tea. Lemon is optional. Most of today’s commercial confections are laden heavily with nuts and garish candied fruit. They are completely out of balance with anything akin to the enchanting food of memory. This comports with the rampant up-sizing that plagues many prepared foods. Does everything have to be exaggerated and jumbo? Even some fresh fruits in the market have achieved a sort of cartoon-like size, almost always at the expense of flavor. For my money, fruitcake sweetened with fruit preserves and prepared with moderate enrichments happily represents the best in family ties, thanks to Mama and a long line of talented bakers in her heritage.

Many kisses,

Celeste