Letter to a New Year: Dear 2009 from a Head Case Oddity

Dear 2009,

Thank you for giving 2008 the boot. Of course, I was supposed to get the boots! I'm the one who asked for black stiletto boots for Christmas that I didn't get. Hmmph. Sure 2008 brought all kinds of whoopty-do in its paper sack of life's greatest hits: Mac Daddy and I turned 40, Bird started kindergarten, Deal saved the planet by ditching diapers and pull ups, we went to Disney Land, Barack Obama won the presidential election (which still makes me high just thinking about it), and all the goes-without-saying stuff that I won't say because well, it goes without saying.

2008 also kinda sucked in its own special the-sky-is-falling way. I mean we are in a recession and all. Virtually the whole world order is crashing at our feet that are clad with last fall's shoes because no one can afford to keep up with fashion anymore. Money matters have driven me to insomnia, a slow down in my business has caused premature graying (granted I'm 40 but I still feel like the gray is premature), I suffered an insufferable chronic cough for nine+ months and discovered some weird growth on my vocal chord, and my cat died. I know this last point comes as a surprise to many. It has been so heart breaking that I cannot bring myself to blog about it. Seriously. I'll get to it. I owe her some time in the limelight. 2008 also marked yet another year that kept us away from close friends. Damn fuel surcharges and obnoxiously high airfares stomped out our planned and highly anticipated trip to Europe with the boys. The raping of the American consumer continued.

Oh, I sound awfully negative and ungrateful, don't I? What a wretch am I. Full of venom here at Dirt & Noise. I am grateful for all the joys that 2008 brought. I am. Really. My family is healthy, happy, well fed, warm in winter, cool in summer, clothed, educated, and spoiled. There I go muttering all the stuff that goes without saying.

But 2009, please bring consumer confidence back to our lives. Rejuvenate the economy so that we can breathe the intoxicating scent of optimism again. Heal our wounds, mend our fences, stitch the fabric of our being, and throw us a bone and scratch our itches while you're at it. I'm also going to go ahead and ask for something that I bet everyone would add to the list but is too chicken to ask for: more sex. I figure the year can't be all bad since it does mark George Bush's final farewell, the end of arrogance and errors.

Bring back the good ole days, 2009. Keep us healthy, make us wealthy. And could you maybe cut Obama some slack? He's inheriting some pretty serious shit. Let's treat those little girls with some respect, mkay? Sasha and Malia don't need to be harassed like the offspring of Hollywood royalty. Basically, don't suck as much as 2008 and you'll go down in history. We're all feeling a bit spent so let's spend the new year being grateful, not greedy, honorable, not ornery. I'm not one for resolutions (no sense setting myself up for failure and disappointment), but I'll sign up for an attitude adjustment.

Thanks for obliging, 2009. I'm looking forward to seeing what you bear in your sack of tricks. I'm going to do my part to make it a rockin' year.

Peace, love, and laughter.

You Are *Where* You Eat

My book club recently read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. The book changed my life. Oh, you heckle me and jeer at such a hyperbolic statement. I hear you; Web 2.0 is that powerful. Snicker not, dear readers. I mean it. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle changed my life. And my family's. Our newly adopted philosophy is not just "You are what you eat," it is "You are where you eat."

In a nutshell, a nutshell indigenous to Kingsolver's farm in Virgina, natch. Barbara (I've read all her books so I think she'd be cool with the first name basis here.) and her family lived for one year on what they grew or raised on their own farm. Homemade cheese included! They supplemented their fare with what they could purchase from fellow farmers and vowed to only consume what could be purchased from a 50-mile radius. That means giving up peanut M&Ms, Haribo gummi bears, and Malbec. Well, that's what such a commitment would mean for me.

What Barbara did was not unconventional or radical; she simply lived as our ancestors did not all that long ago. Tomatoes do not grow in most places in November. So why do we settle for mealy, waxy ones during winter months? How many times have you chewed that iceberg, tomato, and stale crouton salad drenched in ranch dressing with absolutely no orgasmic sounds brewing from your tastebuds? Exactly how fresh is that kiwi that flew for two days to get to your local market? No telling how many days you can add to account for those little green gems to be picked, packed, trucked. Fresh? Nah!

Now compare those mealy flavorless tomatoes to the ruby red ones handpicked from your own summer plot of soil. No. Comparison. Ditto for the cukes, squash, okra (what, you don't grow okra, much less eat it?! You are missing out on a Southern and Indian delicacy!), chard (Don't tell me you don't eat chard either.), spinach, and even basil and dill.

The beauty of Barbara's book was not just how it enlightened me to try to eat locally. I gained a fresh new perspective of farming and farmers. Some neighbors invited the neighborhood younguns to come pick carrots and potatoes from their vast garden. What a joy to see the kids hand pluck carrots, brush off the pesticide free dirt, and chomp away! What a teaching moment to bring to life where our vegetables really come from. Something we all take for granted. We have become inured to the balnd flavor and have come to expect uniform perfection. God forbid the apples have blemishes. We treat our produce the way we treat women in our society; they must look perfect to be desirable.

The Dirt & Noise family joined a CSA this year. Farmer Tom has surpassed our tastebud expectations week after week. His little tomatoes were candy. His basil divine. Snap peas went like candy corn, with both Bird and Deal clamoring for handful after handful. Mac Daddy didn't even get a taste. And the lettuce and turnip salad we enjoyed tonight was spectacular. Truly. Who knew that lettuce had its own flavor that need not be masked with bottled dressing (a condiment we do not own...why buy when I can make my own concoction without high fructose corn syrup?). The turnip is an oft overlooked root vegetable. They are delicious raw or roasted. The most divine food is also the simplest and the freshest.

Sidebar:
Our salad was simply hand torn curly leaf lettuce, sliced raw turnips (not even peeled because the real deal have no freaking wax !), freshly ground black pepper (never the pre-ground powdery stuff in my kitchen), and a splash of olive oil and red wine vinegar. I'm telling you, Bird was eating the turnips as quickly as I could cut them. It's a wonder we had enough for the salad.

We have not adopted Barbara's full regime but we are doing what we can. Local veggies, meat, and some cheese. Local wine frankly sucks so we still get that imported from outside our fine state. Organic for the most part, especially for dairy products and meat. We live a nitrite free and high fructose corn syrup free life. I'm not over-the-top since we still eat out (fast food even, Gasp!), but I am vigilant when it comes to my grocery list.

We take our food for granted. We take our growers for granted. We are a country of entitled consumers. We must have instant gratification. We think that if we can afford it we must have it. We indulge in crap and don't give our children the benefit and joy of a diversified palate. We squash our children's gastronomic curiosity. No 15-year old suddenly wants to eat habanero corn chowder and sweet potato biscuits with cilantro butter. Oh man, the shit kids eat and the shit their parents feed them is a whole other post.

We never, ever, ever think about the political ramifications of our food choices. Yes, political. Food consumption requires food creation. That means consolidated big business farming, chemical fertilizer lobbyists, astronomical fuel consumption, packaging waste, and a bevy of other issues. Michael Pollan's article is a must-read.

I urge you to read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and do your own homework on the food choices you make. To steal a line from Loreal, you and your family are worth it.

Impeach Bush. You'll sleep better if you try.

In all the hubbub of the upcoming election (and a damn exciting and important one it is!), we seem to forget what a shitty and downright dirty job George Bush has done. If Janet Jackson were to ask him, What have you done for me lately? he'd just smirk, flash that signature shit eating grin, and harumph his way to a babbling non-answer.

The answer is: George Bush has done NOTHING for us lately. In eight years he has drive nthis country into the ground and left us with no shovels or backhoes to dig ourselves out. Meanwhile, he and his oil and Halliburton cronies are getting fat off our backs and tee hee heeing all the way to their private island to count their money and pat each other on the back.

I challenge you to list three things Bush has done or influenced to make your life better than it was 8 years ago. I can list 12 million things he's responsible for to make my l ifeworse but can't muster one single way in which he's made my life better. And by "my life" I mean an extension of what Bird and Deal will pay for well into their adulthood. They are my life, and I want to exercise what rights and power I have to secure their future.

Bush is going to dance his way out of office without a blemish. No accountability for the war in Iraq and Afghanistan (also a war, folks, whether we officially call it that or not). The situation ain't getting any better. "Mission accomplished," my ass. His legacy will certainly be Worst President Ever. D'ya think he'll care? Nah. Fat cats grin as long as they're fat.

There are some people who believe Bush has more evidence for impeachment than a certain president who left his mark on a certain blue dress. Screwing Monica or screwing every single person in multiple countries? You decide which is worse.

Kucinich has some of that Paul Wellstone spark that I so admire. He's urging us to hold Bush accountable for his misdeeds. Please take a minute, literally one minute, to sign the petition. Perhaps it's for naught, but at least you know that you did just one teeny tiny little gesture to flip off George Bush. I for one, feel pretty good about it.

In the words of a brilliant Nike copywriter, just do it.

The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same

This clip is short so check it out.

I understand a lot can change in three years, but McCain's emphatic assertions that he supports Bush all the way seems to be unlikely to have turned a 180. If you listen to his current proposals for boosting the economy, the gas tax, and how to continue the debacle that is Iraq, you'll note that not much has indeed changed in three years time. Seems to me that McBush is running in 08.

Somebody smother that shrub with Round Up.