Let Us Give Thanks

This is the day of the year where at most gatherings we Americans are asked to share what we are grateful for. This is always kind of an uncomfortable moment for me since I usually feel like I have way more blessings than I deserve, and that sharing those might sound boastful. Mainly I am thankful to be alive, healthy, and living comfortably. This year I think I have more to be thankful for than usual...

I am thankful that there will be a Democrat in the White House next year, bringing with him the promise of more opportunity and support for those less fortunate, a plan for a sustainable economy, an end to attacks on our civil rights, and a vision of hope that will inspire us to be our best selves.

I am thankful for my husband, Dave, with whom I build a stronger relationship every year, and who encourages me to keep up with my interests, friends, and TV shows.

I am thankful that Dave and I survived our move to Pittsburgh, the cats arrived safely, and the house we rented sight unseen turned out to be a great place to live in a nice quiet block full of cat lovers. Also, I am thankful that Pittsburgh is exceeding expectations regarding livability and opportunities for activity.

I am thankful that I work for a company that allowed me to move across the country and still be considered a part of the team. I'm also thankful that Dave found a teaching position that allowed us to move to an area of the country where we can be within driving distance of most of our family members, and where we can afford to buy a home of our own.

And last, but not least, I am thankful for my little furry buddies, Jackie and Mr. Moustache, who keep me company during the lonely work day, snuggle with me when I'm down, and provide us with endless entertainment.

Book Report

Last spring my father started reading Then We Came To The End. However, he did not come anywhere near the end. And, since he had to get that book as far away from himself as he possibly could, he mailed the hated book to Virg and me. Then one day this summer Virg picked it up in desperation, and ended up loving it. She flew through it, laughing as she went. And so I started reading it, and it immediately became clear why Virg loved it so much. Virg's secret passion is to read random blogs about people complaining about their co-workers, which is exactly how this book reads. It takes place at a struggling advertising company that's laying off its people one by one, and yet everyone spends their days goofing off and gossiping. It begins as a blur of characters, but gradually you realize you don't really need to keep track of them, as the author keeps reminding you as needed. And you get sucked into the gossip, determined to find out what really happened to so-and-so's chair, etc.

In a way, the book reminded me of another book I enjoyed in the recent past: The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night. That story is narrated by a fictional autistic kid who is wrapped up in various details and misses all the serious emotional turmoil around him, just as the Then We Came To The End characters are too busy gossiping to recognize that their co-workers are coming to terms with divorce, unwanted pregnancy, loss of a child, etc. As the reader, you don't really stop to think about this stuff either, because somehow you just really want to know what's going to happen to that office chair. Part of this detached experience comes from the book's unusual narrative style: It's told in first person plural ("we"). Then halfway into the book, the voice changes, and for just one chapter, you're given an honest look at the boss's loneliness as she comes to terms with having cancer. And when you're thrust back into office gossip again, and the book's humorous events now take on an undertone of tragedy. And when I came to the end of the book, I found I had really enjoyed its entertaining and touching look at office life.

The other two books I enjoyed recently were authored by Barack Obama. I already wrote about how much I was enjoying Dreams From My Father during the run up to the presidential election. Well, it never disappointed. He tells his story so beautifully it feels like reading fiction. It reminded me a little of reading Sting's memoirs about his parents and beginnings, entitled Broken Music. If you read only one Obama book, read Dreams From My Father. Written shortly after he graduates from Harvard Law, the book traces his early life in Hawaii and Indonesia, his experiences as a community organizer in inner city Chicago, and his journey to Kenya to meet his father's family. The story focuses on the role that race plays in his life. It's a story about someone who is seen as a black man, but feels like an outsider in the black community, given his mixed and unusual background, and who, more than anything else, is just looking for somewhere he feels he belongs--a place he seems to find at last as he connects with his extended family and learns about his origin from them. It'd be impossible to read this book and not love Obama, for his honesty, insights, and genuine efforts to do good.

Obama wrote Audacity Of Hope in his first year as a U.S. senator, but it still feels honest. About half of the book provides the more detailed views behind the sound bites we heard in his presidential campaign. That half can be a little dry. But the other half, sprinkled throughout the book, consists of fascinating accounts of his time in politics. At its most personal, this is a book about a man contemplating the distance that his political life has put between himself and his family.

Hallelujah!

Not yet president, and Obama has already healed the nation's wounds with lactose-free egg nog!!!

Catchup

For my birthday on November 7th we really hadn't settled on anything special to do, so I proposed going to the monthly Friday evening gallery hop, called Unblurred here in Pittsburgh. Dave ended up working late and I was tired, so instead we decided to go to Ma Provence, a romantic-looking French bistro right in our neighborhood.

The restaurant is very cozy and the service was nice, the food was good if a little uneven in flavor. Dave's Mignons de Porc au Raisin et Bacon was wonderful but the weekly special steak dish was nothing special. We also had butternut squash soup which was also very yummy, and the charcuteries plate which was so-so as the pate was very cold and stiff. For dessert we had a slice of apple tart which was nicely presented but nothing special.

The bread service was unusual. The server would come by and offer you a slice every now and then. The bread was awesome, but it was a bit odd to serve it in this way. I suppose it was to make sure that the fresh and warm bread would come straight out of the oven and onto your plate.

Since the 7th was very quiet, I decided that we had to go down to the Strip on Saturday morning to breakfast at the locally famous greasy spoon, DeLuca's, shop with the crowds at the various shops, and check out the farmer's market.

DeLuca's was jammed at 8:15am so we breakfasted in another cafe just a block up the street that had yummy French toast. I wish I could remember the name of the place. Just a few doors down was a chocolate shop with novelty chocolates and chocolates from around the world. I settled on a bacon-chocolate bar, and a 100% cocoa bar.

Mmmmmm, choclate and bacon together at last!

We also stopped a lot of other stores, but there was only so much shopping I could handle and it was very cold out. On the way back to the car we stopped by the farmer's market, which was a sad little affair in a tiny parking lot next to a bar, and no one was shopping there--nothing like the crowded overflowing bounty of the Mountain View farmers market, but I suppose this is how it goes in late fall around here.

Here are some pictures of the cats acting cute:



It's been snowing off and on all week. Here's the view from our front porch:

Doing Lunch

I went to a couple of new-to-me places this week for lunch:

Zaw's in Squirrel Hill. One word--CHEAP! This is not a place to dine in. There is a counter you can sit at, but it's not a pleasant place to sit. There's a lot of smoke from the open kitchen, and it's not at all clean. Still the food is very good and lots of choices. I really enjoyed the kung pao chicken with fried rice.

City Grill in the South Side also has nice prices. Good pub atmosphere and great service. I really enjoyed the pulled pork sandwich and the skin-on fries were perfect.

My Boys

Our Attempt To Vote

On Sunday we got another door hanger for Obama, informing us of our polling place. Thankfully, Virg was smart enough to know it was actually the wrong location! We ran outside to catch the people posting false polling information, but they had already disappeared.

We've discovered that Pennsylvania doesn't mail sample ballots to voters, nor do they mail us information booklets to tell us what candidates are running or what measures are on the ballot. So, we picked up the Sunday newspaper, but even that had no information. We eventually found some info on a random web site, but now I can't even seem to find that anymore. I therefore gave up and decided just to vote for president.

This morning we woke up early to get to our correct polling place before it opened at 7am.
Everything we read said that a driver's license would be sufficient identification, but we each brought our voter registration card, not wanting to take any chances. When we arrived at the polling place, there were Obama and McCain campaign signs around the entrance, which seemed pretty suspect.

There were already two long lines. There were murmurs in the crowd as to whether it made any difference which line you were in. Virg snuck inside to ask one of the poll workers, and sure enough, there are two precincts at this location, and you need to know your district number in order to vote. Thankfully, the number was on our registration cards. Still the poll workers were too inept to post signs or make any announcement to identify which line corresponded to which district number, so Virg kindly shared her information with others in line. Most people didn't seem to know their district number anyway, so they waited to get to the front before knowing which line they should have been in.

There were four electronic voting machines for each precinct. Apparently all four machines for our precinct were broken. And so 100% of the people in our precinct were already being given paper Emergency Ballots. To obtain one, I needed to show ID, at which point they gave me a numbered card without explanation. Another person then took the card, tore it in half like a movie ticket, and gave me back my voting stub. Then another woman handed me a ballot. "How do I fill it out?" I asked. "On those tables." "With what?" The woman handed me a pen, saying "There are more pens on the table." There weren't.

Virg and I sat at a table together and tried to make sense of our Emergency Ballots. There was a bubble that let you vote "Democratic," letting you vote the entire democratic ticket in a single bubble. But marking this and leaving the Obama bubble unmarked made me very nervous. Plus, we didn't know if the ballot would be counted by machine or by hand--if at all. So Virg and I read through the directions at the top very carefully. The directions described two options for voting: (1) vote for a single party, or (2) vote for a single party, and then mark the exceptions. There was no indication of how you might just vote for individuals, or how you might vote for some offices but not others. I took the ballot over to the poll workers and asked one of them what I should mark if I just wanted to vote for president. She looked at it, and told me she had no idea.

And so Virg and I decided to hedge our bets by using different strategies to mark our ballots. I marked both the "Democratic" and "Obama" bubbles, and nothing else. Who did I vote for with those bubbles? Like the poll worker, I have no idea. Did I vote for all democrats, or just Obama? Did I vote for all democrats except Obama? Or did I invalidate my ballot by marking both?

We were told to seal each ballot inside an envelope. But in order to get them to fit, we had to fold the ballots in quarters. I can't imagine they'll be able to score folded and sealed ballots by machine.

At last, Virg and I left, with no confidence that our votes will be counted. I really hope Obama can win Pennsylvania without us...

Harold & Kumar Escape From Censorship

The writer/director team and lead actors kindly autographed this HK2 DVD for me. The four of them did an audio commentary track that's hysterical, in part because they're very funny people, and in part because it's the first time Kal Penn is seeing the unrated version, and his mortified reaction to it is priceless. Also, long-time Dave fans will be pleased to hear me cited during the library scene.

Getting Out The Getting-Out-The-Vote

Last week I began reading a book that I'm enjoying immensely--an autobiographical coming-of-age story about a man coming to terms with his identity and with the role of race in America. But it reads more like a novel, and the writing is poetry, and I can't seem to put it down. And in the middle of my reading, I got the rare opportunity to see the author in person.

The experience reminds me of when you hear a good joke, and then later you hear someone else tell the same joke, but this time it ends "... and that man was Bill Clinton," or "... George Bush", or some other super-celebrity. And you think, but the original joke was funny in its own right. Why do people feel the need to cheapen it by dropping some big name at the end?

That's kind of how I feel about the author of this engrossing book growing up to be the famous Barack Obama. And yet, of course, I would never have started reading it, otherwise.

It's a fascinating book, because it's very honest, having been written before Obama's political career. And it was against the backdrop of my reading that I got to see Obama himself speak at a rally in Pittsburgh's Mellon Arena. Virg and I waited in an endless line outside the Arena (which ultimately still left half the seats empty). Every time we advanced a few more feet, another volunteer would remind us that we couldn't bring any banners, that we had to remove our Barack Obama pins in order to get through the metal detectors, and that we should turn our cell phones on (the implication being so that we could prove they weren't bombs). We were probably approached by 20 such volunteers, each concerned that it might take us a good 30 minutes to unfasten our Obama buttons.

And each volunteer asked if we were registered to vote. Did they really think we had the energy to make our way downtown and stand in line in the cold to see Obama, but that ultimately we couldn't be bothered to stop by to vote at the polling place near our house? Each volunteer also asked if we were interested in volunteering for the campaign, and were pleased to learn that Virg is already a volunteer. Do they really need more volunteers? They already have 20 people to tell us to take off a campaign button. And it seemed silly that the primary job of a volunteer was to recruit more volunteers.

Waiting for the rally to begin, we watched bemused as campaign workers passed out campaign-approved banners to the people nearest the podium. At long last, Obama came out to much applause, and his speech was well written and masterfully delivered as always. We were very glad we went to hear him. But the contrast to his book was striking. Here was the author who wanted to see himself as an American, but lived in a racially divided America that could only see him as a black American and continued to place him in black communities. I can just imagine Obama chuckling to himself after addressing the sea of white faces at the Mellon Arena.

Still it seemed to me that Obama was preeching to the choir, and it was hard to imagine what purpose the rally served. When I got home, I read about Obama's own experience in attending a rally event early in his career as a community organizer in Chicago. He wrote, "To my mind the whole thing came off a bit flat, like a political convention or a TV wrestling match. Still, the crowd seemed to be enjoying itself."

Virg has been phone-banking for the Obama campaign this week. On Thursday night, she spent a couple hours calling volunteers to remind them of when they needed to come in to phone-bank. At home, sitting by myself and finishing writing recommendation letters, the phone rang. It was a volunteer from the Obama campaign. She was calling to remind Virg to come in to phone-bank on Monday. It's as if Obama has too many people lining up to campaign for him, so he creates fake work for them. As if he's organized a community of people and tricked them into thinking they're community organizers.