short takes

Eric Bogle, meet Gary Trudeau and Darby Conley (link via browngirl and several others).

On a lighter note, someone has finally given Jack Chick's "Dark Dungeons" MST3K treatment (link via autographedcat).

A guide to those bizarre glyphs that have replaced actual words on the lanudering instructions on some clothes (link via bhakti). Most bizarre entry, presumably included only for the sake of completeness: "do not dry".

Ok, Enterprise gets points for not using the time-travel reset button I feared they might use after "Azati Prime", but... ugh. I don't like the direction some of our characters are moving in. Archer should not get off easy even if he does save the world.

Last Sunday on the way to the bunny melt we were held up by a large number of police cars that seemed to be in an awful hurry. I counted eleven, and I didn't start counting until I noticed that this was not your run-of-the-mill car or two. As they came through the intersection we were stopped at they peeled off in different directions, so we were guessing it was a containment effort, but we had no further information. It wasn't until I caught up on newspapers last week that I realized that we were right in the path of a chase involving kidnapping and ultimately murder. Ouch. (They chased the guy from somewhere in the west end, onto the parkway, off into my neighborhood, through another neighborhood or two, back onto the parkway, and then onto the turnpike, where he later made an illegal U-turn and finally crashed at an exit.)

Yesterday I cooked red snapper for the first time. I was unsure what other fish might be an adequate substitute if they didn't have any at the store, but I got lucky. (Having now worked with it, if I had to make a substitution I think I'd go for haddock or monkfish -- similar consistency and not strongly flavored. Other opinions welcome.) Here's what I did, which turned out well: brown onions and lots [1] of garlic in olive oil, then add chopped parsley, salt & pepper to taste, and some white wine. Cook down (reduce by half), then add diced tomatoes (I didn't drain the liquid from the can but probably should have). Simmer a few minutes. Then spread half of this in a greased casserole, put the fish on top (in a single layer), spread the rest of the sauce on top, and bake for about 40 minutes at 350. Yummy! (I was working from a recipe, but I tend to be pretty casual about measuring so you're not getting quantities unless you ask.) ([1] "Lots" refers to the conventional understanding of garlic quantity, not to this writer's personal preferences.)

a study in contrast

This Shabbat I had encounters with both ends of the human-nature spectrum within the span of a few hours. It was enlightening.

S and L are both women in their 80s. S is a bitter, cranky person whose husband went into a nursing home about a year ago. That's certainly a source of stress for her, though I suspect he's probably better off there because we've all seen her be pretty abusive to him. She speaks snidely of him now, behind his back. Better for her not to be his primary care-giver. L's husband died a year ago aftr 65 years of marriage, and L is one of the most kind and gentle souls I've ever met. I know all of that from observation, but this week I got strong examples from both, and it really struck me.

This Shabbat, as we were getting books out for Torah study, I accidentally bumped S with a book. I immediately said "I'm sorry" and she said "sorry isn't good enough" (!). I've had no previous altercations with this person, so I think that was really uncalled for. (Even though she's a crank I've never been anything but completely polite with her -- she'd stir up more grief than I'm willing to deal with otherwise.) So I said that I obviously didn't mean to bump her and all I could do after the fact was apologize, which I had done. She then said something like "you have to understand that I'm on [some drug] and I could bleed from a bump". Again, I said, it was an accident, I clearly didn't mean to hurt her, and I didn't see what else I could do about it. She muttered something testy-sounding under her breath and went into a sulk. (By the way, it was a very minor bump; it's not like I dropped a dictionary on her point-blank or swung at her or anything like that.) But to S, everything is about her, and if you're not 100% for her you're against her.

(S did later have the decency to say she shouldn't have snapped at me. I believe that she had outside help in reaching that conclusion. I fear she will not have learned anything from it, but I hope I'm wrong.)

After services I learned that L had walked (usually she gets a ride from someone), and she lives between shul and my house, so I and one other person offered to walk her home. We had a very pleasant conversation, and when we got to her building she insisted that we come in for a bit, and the next thing I knew she was getting lunch out for us. We spent a couple hours talking about all sorts of things -- her husband, her children, but also just as much about us (at her prompting), and politics, and assorted other things. After she fed us lunch she thanked us for sharing a meal with her. She's self-sufficient (aside from not driving and not going out alone at night), and she insisted on being a hostess -- but she was also a friend (and is). She obviously misses her husband quite a bit -- 65 years is a long time -- but she is finding ways to fill the time, and she's making additional friends, and she's just got this great outlook on life. (By the way, one of her kids is local and they have frequent contact.)

L and S may be about the same age, but L acts 20 years younger and S acts 20 years older. L sees the silver lining; S sees the cloud. L grieves but in a healthy way; S grieves and believes it's everyone else's fault that she's unhappy.

L is going to be my role model when I'm that age. She actually reminds me a lot of my maternal grandmother, who, sadly, didn't reach that age due to a stroke. But I think my grandmother would be a lot like L if she were still alive. And if she were still alive, I'd introduce them to each other first chance I got.