Jimmy Goes Shopping for Nuts and Gets More than He Bargained For

My brother can’t cook. Sure, he can scramble some eggs or assemble a nice turkey, Swiss and avocado sandwich with pre-sliced ingredients, and he can heat up a Trader Joe's frozen dinner, but the guy can’t cook. So when he moved in with me this past spring he watched with fascination as I prepared the simplest meals (my culinary talents are simple but an order of magnitude beyond Jimmy’s). What he found most fascinating is my routine of making giant salads of chopped lettuce, veggies, currents, chicken breast, and toasted pine nuts. Jimmy watched me carefully as I poured a few pine nuts into a frying pan, shaking it periodically over the stove flame until the nuts turned a light brown and I tossed them onto my bowl of veggies. He tried a bite and then declared “those nuts are really good.” He made this declaration as though he had just made an amazing discovery….which he had, because Jimmy doesn’t like nuts, or so he thought. The next day Jimmy was chopping his own lettuce and veggies and toasting pine nuts on the stove. He was converted.

Well, the summer passed without incident and Jimmy and I chopped and tossed our salads side-by-side several times a week…sometimes for lunch sometimes for dinner. We would sit on my office couch munching and watching the Rachel Maddow Show or sit at the island in the kitchen gossiping and making inappropriate jokes. In the mild summer evenings I would BBQ a bunch of chicken breasts for the week and Jimmy would watch me asking questions like, “how can you tell when the chicken is cooked?” Yes, Jimmy, pay attention, this is where food comes from….this is how we make raw chicken edible.

Fast-forward to November. I leave for a month on a trip to Central America and Jimmy is now on his own. No big sis supplying him with cooked chicken and pine nuts. Feeling empowered my young bro ventures forth to the Whole Foods with the intention of buying something more than pre-sliced deli meats and cheeses, and frozen dinners. Jimmy is gonna buy some pine nuts. He picks up some chicken breasts from the butcher and then heads to the bulk section for the pine nuts. He grabs a plastic bag and starts scooping the nuts. He imagines the bakers jar that I keep the nuts in at home in the pantry…he tries to imagine its volume. He keeps scooping and holding the bag up and estimating. With a bulging bag in hand he is finally confident he has an appropriate amount of nuts to fill the jar. Feeling empowered (and slightly proud) he heads towards the check out counter. He’s got the lettuce, the raw chicken breasts, and pine nuts!

The tattooed and pierced checker scans the items and the bagger scoops them into the handled-brown paper bag. The checker and the cash register both declare “that will be $85 sir.” Jimmy pauses for a second and then swipes his credit card. Jimmy grabs the bag and heads toward his car wondering how a few chicken breasts and a bag of nuts could cost $85 (even at Whole Foods)? At home he unpacks his groceries and checks the receipt to see what things cost. The chicken was more than he expected but he soon realized that a breast is actually both sides of a chicken’s chest. He had bought twice as much chicken as he thought. Ok. Moving along. He then checks the receipt and discovered he has bought $45 worth of pine nuts! He picks up the bulging plastic bag and pulls out the baker’s jar…there are about 3 times as many nuts as would fit into the jar. Shit.

The next day I return from Central America and the following morning Jimmy and I host a brunch for family and friends. Jimmy tells me the pine nut story and shows me the huge bag of nuts. I laugh heartily at him. Jimmy then looks at me, tilts his head and muses, “maybe I could make small baggies and sell them?” Great idea Jimmy, selling nickel bags of pine nuts at a family brunch you’re hosting.

The next morning family and friends fill our house and we all start eating and talking and laughing. For Christmas Jimmy received a coffee maker which he had not used yet. He pulls the filters and coffee out of the cupboard and asks no one in particular, “should I ask Ron how much coffee to scoop or should I just eyeball it?” Our quiet well mannered 11 year old niece Devyn was sitting next to us. She looks up and with conviction says, “I don’t think you should eyeball it.” “Why not?” Jimmy asks with a smile. With an “are you kidding me” expression, Devyn responds, “Remember the pine nuts?”

The Best Welcome Home

I threw myself a welcome home brunch the day after the night I got back to Oakland, Ca...the end of a four and a half week trip to Honduras and Guatemala. Some of my most important peeps were on hand, including (the ex-New Yorkers gone Chicagoans) Andy and Jo and their gorgeous kids. There was the ever so pregnant Karen who was actually due that day but Calder decided to wait until Friday to pop out. And other biological and chosen family members including my niece Devyn, who I could swear matured five years since I last saw her which was actually on Thanksgiving (she turns 11 years old tomorrow).

Well, Devyn being the sweet soul she is wrote me a little welcome home poem I cannot not share. Here it is:

Gone for so long
Under the hot sun
A certified diver, oh what fun
Time and time again
Ever so caring
My friend, my aunt
Always incredibly loving
Love you
Aunt Mer

Please note what the first letter of each line spells.

What a treat. It was a nice transition back into to the more placid life I live here in the United States.

An Interesting Thank You

Most days I wear a basic uniform of jeans and more often than not a white t-shirt. I wear them with my jeans, with cargo shorts, under my sailing bibs, to bed with PJ bottoms, under my button down shirts when I go to work, etc. Truth is, if I am not showering or swimming (or doing any other naked-type things) there is a high likelihood I am wearing a white t-shirt. I like 'em. Like the way they feel. Like the way they look. Like the simplicity. But not all t-shirts are created equal and I like the Nautica men's white crew size L (and not just because they come with a little blue sail embroidered on the bottom).

I order a few packages of these t-shirts as the old one's get dingy or stained by my uncoordinated meanderings through this red wine, red-sauce, dirt and grease filled world. I order these t-shirts online from a company named "Freshpair." My most recent order of shirts arrived this week with a little note from the president of Freshpair. This is what it said:

Thank you! We're honored you've chosen us to help enhance your underwear collection. We hope you'll be back soon to browse our virtual aisles again.

Michael Kleinmann

President

"Enhance" my "underwear collection"? Yes, my standard Nautica mens white crew t-shirts size large have really enhanced my extensive and varied underwear collection. I simply sparkle and am the envy of many. So enhanced is my underwear collection that people have been coming up to me asking, "wow, you look so good....what have you been doing lately?" I shrug and say, "it's nothin'....I just enhanced my underwear collection with sparkly new white t-shirts from Freshpair."

Note: My middle-aged female body looks nothing like the male model in the picture...but isn't that t-shirt just fabulous?!

Back To Central America!

The thing about traveling far, making new friends, finding new places and people to love...the thing about it is I gotta go back. I gotta hug my new friends again, share another drink, see the place with fresh eyes, experience the old-new as the now-a-bit-familiar, experience the returning...and surprise everyone by keeping my damn word. Show them all I meant it when I said I would be back. And so I am going. Another December in the lower latitudes...another holiday season in Antigua with my new brothers and sisters. This time I go with a clear head, a mostly healed heart, and just a little bit, and I mean a little bit more Spanish.

I will again write a rough-on-the-go journal sitting in uncomfortable chairs in cramped internet cafes in unlikely places. I decided to revive my travel blog for these sloppy ramblings. So if you wanna know what I am doing in December go to:

merstravelblog.blogspot.com

And for those who might be interested here's the general plan.

November 30
LA to Guatemala City and Antigua, Guatemala

December 12
To La Ceiba, Honduras

December 13-20
To Utila (The Bay Islands), Honduras

December 20
Back to Antigua, GT

January 2, 2009
Guatemala City to LA

January 3, 2009
LA to Oakland

I also intend to see the Pacific Coast of Guatemala (the sea turtle hatchery in Monterrico) and head into El Salvador at some point....alone. It's gonna be good even when it's not. Even when it's hot and crowded and bumpy and buggy and scary and lonely. Even then.

I really like hearing from folks when I am traveling for weeks....so I encourage you to make a comment on the blog or shoot me an email. Trust me, it will mean a lot.

What Is Your Favorite Word?

This is the question that I recently posed to friends and family and I received some very interesting, educational, and often hilarious responses....which of course I can't help but share. I asked people to not think too much and to respond quickly.

But I will start this by sharing my favorite word: "yes." This is assuming I get to ask the question to which "yes" is the response...like "I won the lottery?" or "Is it sunny out?" or "Wanna have sex?" or "Am I free to go now?" or "Do you love me?" or "Will I die happily in old age with my friends and family around me?" or....well, you get the point. Many of those who responded offered their second (and sometimes third and fourth) choice(s)...so I offer the same.

"Pleasure" is my second fave and this choice is the culmination of a lifetime of thinking too hard about too many things too often. In the movie Venus, Maurice (Peter O'toole), an aged aesthete unapologetically groping (pun intended) for some final connection with carnal beauty, is asked by his aged friend, "Do you believe in anything, Maurice?" Maurice responds, "Pleasure, I like. I've tried to give pleasure. That's all I'd recommend to anyone." It is a very hedonistic "power of now" sorta thing uttered by a man teetering at the brink of death. And I see his point. When all the constructs and romantic narratives crumble at last and the promise of any replacement is gone...there is yet the capacity and desire for him to give (and receive) pleasure. For Maurice, it is the value of pleasure, at last, that endures.

But looking back there have been many words for which I felt a significant affinity. Heady words like "ontology" or "epistemology" or "existential"... the last word being the one I looked up whenever I checked out a dictionary (I used to love looking at period dictionaries...weird, I know). And then of course there is the ineffable word "love"...a word I have more and more committed to just feel and express versus robustly understand and explain.

And lastly there are the more base words that seduce me (again, puns intended). "Lust" and "fuck" are two favorites....and when realized in the order presented, well, we are back to "pleasure." And as my birthdays and contemplations have accumulated I keep coming back to these two simple words, "yes" and "pleasure." And when these two words are married, well, saying yes to pleasure? That works for me.

Next I offer you the responses from my friends and family presented here with only the most insignificant editing and in no particular order.

Deb
"believe"

Zane (age 10)
"love"

Rod
"genuine"

Elizabeth
"fledgling"

Shelly
"vacation"

Jessi
"motherfucker"
I so appreciate a foul-mouthed femme!

Karen
"fabulous"

Penny
"bloody"
I think she means it in the British-slang sense....especially since she is a paramedic!

Kevin
"utopia"

Sylvie
"sidereal"

Tracy
"My favorite word off the top of my head is 'panacea' not to be confused with 'pancetta."
The cure-all or the ham? Wonder what she meant?

Catherine
"Topolobampo', it is the name of a port city in Mexico (I've never been there) but I love the word! It sounds kinda like falling down stairs, but in a good way, as though perhaps tequila was involved..."

Stephen
"Delicious'...even when it is used out of context it is perfect."

Leila
"First thing that came to mind is 'perseverate."

Brother-Inlaw John
"ac·cou·ter·ment or ac·cou·tre·ment (-ktr-mnt, -tr-) n.
1. An accessory item of equipment or dress. Often used in the plural.2. Military equipment other than uniforms and weapons. Often used in the plural.3. accouterments or accoutrements Outward forms of recognition; trappings: cathedral ceilings, heated swimming pools, and other accoutrements signaling great wealth.4. Archaic The act of accoutering."
John is nothing if not meticulous!

Revi
"Tintinnabulation - since you asked me not to think too much - I like - succubi - quite well as well."

Sister Marcy
"appreciation" was her first submission but she changed it to "empathy"

Sister Laurs
"Aujourdhui'....it's French and means today......have always loved it."

Brother Jimmy
"pork-bellies"

Brother Outlaw Jonald (whose name we have bastardized to distinguish him from the other John)
"YES !!!! (a wise woman named Mer told me that one)"
Aww...thanks Jonald!

Nephew Ian (age 10)
"arugula"

Brother-Outlaw Ron
"Phoopie' a Chico State spawned PG f-word replacement."

Sister Julie
"Mine is fun because I seriously like having fun. I want to go to amusement parks and play computer games and read and go to museums and play board games. I search out fun things to do and then look forward to them. I like to laugh and I think a lot of things are funny. One of my favorite sayings is “Some people think life is a battle. It’s not; it’s a game.” The best games are challenging, interesting,…and fun!"

Neice Devyn (age 10)
"Whizpopper - it comes from her favorite book, The Big Friendly Giant by Roald Dahl. The giant drinks soda but in his world, the bubbles go down instead of up and they make farts, which he calls whizpoppers."

Nephew Trent (age 8)
"Trent’s is cheese, which comes from one of his own sayings that he has repeated often: 'I like cheese', said with a dramatic flair. It’s usually said to fill the silence (because god forbid there be any of that) or as a transition to a new topic or as an avoidance (eg, Trent, what are you going to write for your sentence on your homework?....'Um…..I like cheese!”)

Devyn and Trent submitted their words via Julie (their mom).

Niece Riley (age 8)
"artistic"

Niece Avery (age 5)
"John"
Her father's name!

And last but hardly least is a most hilarious rambling from my friend Andie. I present it here unedited for your reading pleasure.

Andie
"It's a tie between topography (plain old word I get to use often) and Ollantaytumbo (place name I rarely get to use but gets stuck in my head randomly and often; so does it count in your weird little world?). But then there is also archipelago and Titicaca (another place name, but in English I just can't believe how lucky we are to know there is a place with such a name out there! Named far before Bevis and Butthead were created!). I don't like single favorites. Top 5, top 10, maybe even 2 favorites - but in a world with so many amazing choices how can you ever pick just one? Especially if you are a Libra? OK, that was off the top of my head, but I love words so there are plenty more. OOOooo, like rungeechungge, the Nepalese word for colorful. Or Appalachian, but it has to be said correctly. I am working! Damn you! You miss me, don't you? And you get to see me soon. Are you going to put a list together of peoples favorites? I want to see! I bet Ollantaytumbo wins. Well actually, it would probably depend on what kind of words you like, whether foreign words count (anaranjado and pantalones and zappatos are all great), and whether anyone gets to "win"....Didn't you say quick? I will stop now."

Take a breath Andie! And by the way, YOU win for the most longest and hilarious submission! Congratulations!

Thanks for humoring me folks.

A Day at the Office and a Rancher Called Pete

There is a small hydro project in California that X utility decided to decommission because relicensing said facility would simply not be cost effective. The decision was also informed by the fact that decommissioning the project would help create much needed habitat for anadromous fish (i.e. salmon). The decision to decommission the project will result in the loss of a small reservoir that is currently used as a fishing hole by a small population of folks living in the surrounding rural community. And these anglers are pissed.

I have facilitated several public meetings where the decommissioning decision and process has been explained…including the fact that the decision is legally irreversible. Utility X has given up their license and can no longer operate the project. They are mandated to develop a decommissioning plan and implement it. This has been repeatedly explained and public input for the plan has been solicited on several occasions.

Recently, utility X hosted yet another public meeting to present a draft of the plan to the public and provide an opportunity for additional comment. The community folks came to the meeting still pressing utility X to “save” the reservoir for recreational use. Antagonistically they challenged the utility on the logic of their decision, at times pleading for them to reconsider.

Part of my job is to manage the conversation and expectations…to act as a hinge and help clarify key points including the stated legal parameters of a given proceeding. In this case, NOT decommissioning was NOT a legal option. Representatives from utility X reiterated this fact again and again in straight forward language and then I repeatedly paraphrased things in an attempt to foster understanding. And, well, it just didn’t take. Many of the local folks, mostly ranchers and farmers, were not accepting reality.

At one point a woman aggressively interrupted me and stated, “Come on. This is the United States of America and we can do anything if we really want to.” Hmmm, I thought, this is interesting logic. This woman feels that “we” should violate the Code of Federal Regulations and the Federal Power Act to save an insignificant reservoir so a few folks can have a nice little fishing hole in rural California which is a ginormous state with an astonishing amount of recreational opportunities including prime fishing in the areas surrounding this community. “We” should do this even though it would cost millions and would thwart the habitat restoration for anadromous fish which over the past 100 years have loss 90+% of their habitat on the west coast. This same women went on to say the following (I am paraphrasing but I am pretty close here including the awkward syntax):

“When you take away the reservoir then the animals like the mountain lions and the bears will lose a source for getting water and then they will come down to the ranches and I used to have 11 cats and now I only have two and I have a young son. What are you going to do when you are liable when a mountain lion can’t get water from the reservoir and comes to my ranch and kills my son? What are you going to do about that?”

I am not kidding, this was her statement/question late in the meeting….a “when did you stop beating your wife?” question with such grossly faulty presuppositions I was amazed. This is one of the more creative bits of reasoning I have observed….and believe me, I have heard some crazy shit at public meetings. Mr. XX from the utility did an excellent job of handling the question, carefully explaining that the loss of the reservoir would not be a significant impact on animal habitat and there are innumerable water sources in the area for the thirsty mountain lions that she fears will eat her son as a snack while seeking to quench their thirst.

Again, when I facilitate public (key word here) meetings I often think of it more as playing referee…hopefully I help foster a little more understanding between parties but mostly I just set the tone and manage the meeting so no one starts throwing shit. Public meetings are not the most enjoyable part of my job…except when I get to meet men like Pete.

Pete is a quiet man, a rancher of maybe 60 years. His family has ranched on his land for generations and he and his wife and two daughters continue that tradition. I don’t get the sense that Pete or his family is formally educated beyond high school. Pete and his family have real concerns regarding the potential impacts that decommissioning the project may have on their water rights. There are some structural changes that will occur that may result in rerouting their water diversion. His concerns are neither fishing nor mountain lion attacks.

I remember the first public meeting over a year ago when I met Pete and his family. He wore his NRA hat and a pair of Wrangler jeans held up with suspenders. We shook hands and I felt the calluses of a working man. He smiled and looked me in the eye and told me I did a good job running the meeting. He introduced me to his family…earthy folks of few words. At each subsequent meeting Pete and I always greeted each other. We sought each other out through the crowd and said hi and he usually complimented me on my performance no matter how mellow the meeting may have been.

I have reflected that we come from such different worlds and I am sure our politics are mostly diametrically opposed. I am a butch queer city slicker (ok, not that slick) consultant contracted by the seemingly monolithic utility X. He is an NRA supporting rancher living in the California bible belt. Yet there is some sort of connection between this man and me…something that transcends the obvious differences in our worlds. We meet each other in some way.

The most recent meeting I facilitated was really tough. I worked hard for two and half hours straight dealing with irrational questions and borderline belligerence on the part of many of the community members (see above). My job is to manage the volatility enough so it does not erupt into more dramatic dysfunction. It is an art, not a science and it involves being hyper-present and attentive and relating in a way that can be exhausting. When we adjourned I plopped into a chair and just sat there for about five minutes barely talking to anyone. Finally, I got up and scanned the room for Pete. He was engaged in conversation with folks so, exhausted, I decided to leave without saying hello. I headed out the back door into the parking lot when suddenly I heard Pete’s voice, “Marie.” I turned to see he had chased me out the door and he had a big smile on his face. “You earned your money tonight. You did a good job. I just love watching you work.” I walked towards him, “Thank you Pete. I really appreciate your feedback.” Our conversation was brief and we shook hands…we both smiled big at each other and sincerely wished each other a good night.

I have often said that the less tangible benefit of my work is the personal and spiritual growth that results from interacting with folks I would probably never otherwise encounter in my life. This is a man that many would reduce to a cliché, some stereotypical Republican-NRA-supporting-idiot not deserving of consideration. He is someone that folks in San Francisco (myself included at times) might summarily dismiss because of the profound cultural differences. But I got to meet him, shake his hand, see his sweet smile and sparkly eyes, meet his wife and daughters, hear some of the history of his family’s ranching and his legitimate concerns regarding his water. I got see his gentle and respectful way of participating in the crazy public meetings. And he got to see me do my stuff at the front of the room and he appreciated me for it….this butch dyke from the city. There is something about this man that has touched me and I can say that I am truly grateful to know Pete the rancher…

There you have it. A little slice of my days at the “office” trying to keep the peace.

Current Favorites, Preoccupations, and Distractions

Smell:
Mr. Zog's Sex Wax
The best smelling surfboard wax known to man...it's my potpourri. Seriously. Have a bar sitting here right next to me. I'm a huffer. I huff surfboard wax.

Food:
Pine nuts and currants on salad. Can't imagine life without the pignoli. Toasted of course.

Book Title:
I Don't Believe in Atheists by Chris Hedges
Haven't read the book yet but I think the title is hilarious.

Journal Article:
Why Ivy Leagures Can't Think: The Disadvantages of an Elite Education by William Deresiewicz in The American Scholar, Summer 2008
Articulates wonderfully much of what I have thought and preached for years...but he makes the critique as an insider after realizing he doesn't know how to have a conversation with his plumber.

Magazine Article:
Why is There a Universe at All? by Adolf Grunbaum in Free Inquiry, June/July 2008
Get out the truth tables and philosophy dictionary for this rambling exploration of "primordial existential questions" and "the null possibility" and "the ontological spontaneity of nothingness." I studied the article and there is a much more accessible way to say this stuff...but then, maybe I got it all wrong. After all, my education was not an elite one. So I decided to answer the primordial existential question for myself by expressing awe at the ontological spontaneity of nothingness and quoting Neutral Milk Hotel: "Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all." I guess I will always land with the NMHs or the William Blake's of the world over the positivists and haughty logicians. Nonetheless, I do enjoy the intellectual meandering.

Drugs:
Vicodin
I recently injured my back while working out. Got to hurtin' so bad I resorted to two days of serious drugs which is unusual for me. The vicadin made me sweat and have nightmares, but the good thing about being on a narcotic is that one doesn't care so much about such things. And my back didn't hurt. Feeling much better now thanks.

Doctor:
Dr. Bruce
My hyper-competent, caring, and hilarious chiropractor who completely appreciates my perverted and irreverent humor. He hurts me so and then soon after, I feel better. We have such a physically intimate relationship for two people who barely know each other. God bless the chiros.

Bed Buddies:
Books
I used to sleep with women but now I sleep with books. All kinds of books...even comic books. Sometimes I sleep with magazines or journals. When I change my sheets I find books or magazines I had forgotten about...books that slid into the cracks or got lost under a pillow, old magazines with crinkled pages and yesterdays news. Although it is my intention to sleep with women again, books never snore or hog the bed or fart in the night...and I will leave it at that for now.

Teaching:
Conflict Resolution
Love teaching but got a little depressed when I found out that several of the students couldn't write at a graduate level. Some couldn't write at an undergraduate level. Told them I would fail their asses if they didn't get help and stop turning in crap. I was slightly more diplomatic. Only slightly. Most everyone got their shit together and odds are there will be no failing grades.