Effin' Awesome Music

I think I am late to the party, but I just discovered The Cave Singers. At turns Fleetwood Mac, The Castanets and Akron Family, this Seattle band has hit just the right spot. I heard "Dancing on Our Graves" and went out to buy the album that day. They are another layer in the Appalachian love story that is new folk music.


Their new album is out now and they also have a groovy photo-centric blog

We've declared war with Iran

Our Democratic majority is fucking useless.

While no one is listening, 28 mutherfuckin Democrats are voting YES on Senate Amendment 3017.

This amendment was called "Cheney's pipe dream" by Jim Webb. It states, in part:

(3) that it should be the policy of the United States to combat, contain, and roll back the violent activities and destabilizing influence inside Iraq of the Government of the Islamic Republic of Iran, its foreign facilitators such as Lebanese Hezbollah, and its indigenous Iraqi proxies;

(4) to support the prudent and calibrated use of all instruments of United States national power in Iraq, including diplomatic, economic, intelligence, and military instruments, in support of the policy described in paragraph (3) with respect to the Government of the Islamic Republic of Iran and its proxies;

(5) that the United States should designate the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps as a foreign terrorist organization under section 219 of the Immigration and Nationality Act and place the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps on the list of Specially Designated Global Terrorists, as established under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act and initiated under Executive Order 13224;...

Did you get that? These three paragraphs are basically the Senate giving their blessing on the "use of all instruments" to "combat, contain, and roll back the violent activities...of the Islamic Republic of Iran" and "designate the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps as a foreign terrorist organization" and "plac(ing) the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps on the list of Specially Designated Global Terrorists."

Remember when we said if the Dems that we elected rolled over and let Bush bomb Iran, there would be huge backlash and people would take to the streets and riot? Well get ready. I feel a riot coming on.

A few thoughts on the roll call:
the fact that Hilary Clinton voted for this makes it impossible for me to vote for her for President. I'm not sure I would have anyway, but fuck! She's as useless as the rest of them.

Murry, one of our two Democratic Senators here in Washington State voted for it.

Speak up, Sisters

We walked out of the movie into the dark Seattle night holding hands and sighing, not knowing what to say. It's hard not to feel completely hopeless, we remarked. The movie was The Devil Came on Horseback, a documentary about a man, Brian Steidle, who witnessed and recorded the atrocities in the Darfur region of Sudan with a camera and a notebook and hoped his reports would find their way to someone who could change things. In fact, he trusted, because of his faith that America would do the right thing, that his work was making a difference. But when he got home to the States, the story was his to tell. No one was talking about it; his reports disappeared into the ether. The veracity of his work was questioned by Sudanese living in America, the US government and the media.

The movie, which incorporates hundreds of Brian's photos, is not without its faults. The images, which are gruesome, bloody and hard to forget, are scattered throughout the film with haphazard and seemingly random ferocity. We are not given context for the bloody puddles in the dust, the half-buried, charred bodies, and blackened heads with mouths agape locked in their tortured last moments of screaming. See what I mean? These images will haunt you. And they should.

Another image that haunts me is one of the eyes of a woman in the refugee camp in Chad who, through a translator, states that after “the violence” occurred, her husband left her. Her watery coal-black eyes flit toward the camera for a brief moment and then away. "The violence" is the term they use for when they are raped by the Janjiweed. We learn through the translator that in Sudan, the stigma of being raped is so huge a disgrace that they often just say they were beat up or don't say anything at all.

The camps where the refugees are staying are called Displaced Persons Camps or DPCs. We are shown aerial shots from a helicopter, presumably, of a vast network of tents and corridors which stretch for miles. There are hundreds of thousands of displaced people here. In Chad. In Ethiopia and in Sudan itself. In The name "displaced person" has been used for decades to describe a person who has been removed from their home\land, but the term itself is troubling as it connotes a person who is still not in place. Dis-placed. To not be placed. To be without a place. To be in the wrong place.

Sudanese are living in these camps for years on end. They yearn to return to their villages, but there is nothing there and the danger is greater outside the camps. That said, the conditions in these camps are terrible and they aren't even necessarily safe. Another woman’s image haunts me -- she is tall and striking with long black braids. She speaks in clipped and correct English saying that they have nothing left. Everything is gone. She starts to tell us of who she has lost: her three brothers, her daughter and she begins to shake and cry. “Would you believe I am a teacher?” She asks as the tears take over. “I am a teacher!” I get goosebumps.

Back to the woman in the movie who tells Brian she was raped. She is not alone. She is one of countless women and girls who have been raped or mutilated, and then abandoned by their husbands or fathers. This is where it really hits home for me. I shift in my theater seat, I look away from the screen. I don't want to believe the horrors these women have been through. They are flesh and blood. They are teachers and daughters and mothers.

Brian looks directly at the camera and explains that the Janjiweed are paid in loot. Rape is a currency. In fact, rape has been described by the Janjiweed as an integral tool in their strategy. They get to loot and rape as they destroy each village or market. I remember reading in Dave Eggers' What is the What that when the men have been killed or have fled, the women are trapped and must watch as their babies are hacked apart, tossed down wells, their daughters gang raped in front of them. Think it’s hard to read? Imagine that this is your life.

Now imagine that the struggle doesn't end when you reach a DPC. Imagine that you are at the mercy of aid organizations which are operating on too little money and not enough time. The movie states that the places where the camps are located are often devoid of resources. They have no water, no shade and no trees. No trees means very little fuel for fires. No fires means no food. The Janjiweed patrol around the camps and compete for the same scant resources. If the men leave the camp to get firewood, they are castrated or murdered. If the women go, they are raped. It is the women who are forced to go. They sometimes walk 20 miles to gather a week’s supply of wood. These journeys are fraught with danger and if they are attacked, they dare not tell a soul. Imagine this after your house, your family, your possessions and your dignity are all taken away.

A woman from the Save Darfur Coalition came to speak after the film. One thing she told us about was an idea that addresses this firewood problem. It's called the Solar Cooker Project. There are several groups who are organizing to get solar stoves to the women in the DPCs so they don't have to risk their lives to get wood with which to cook. These solar ovens use the resource which is plentiful there: the sun and cook as well, if not better than, an open fire. They are inexpensive, portable and efficient. Jon and I decide the only thing we will put on our holiday wish list is that our friends and families to buy solar stoves for these women. They cost $30 for two. It is the smallest and simplest thing we can do.

I get home and begin researching the cookers. Much to my horror, there are four years worth of articles that chronicle this problem of being raped when hiking for firewood. I find one from 2004 on washingtonpost.com about how the problem is getting worse and worse. I find another from three days ago on CNN.com. Almost all of them mention these stoves and how it will make a huge difference in the comfort and security of the women in the camps. How can four years have gone by and we haven't organized to get every family in every camp a solar cooker? I am so ashamed. I, like Brian, would have thought that America would be doing something. I would have bet that the UN would hear this horrible story and act in the simplest and most peaceful of ways: by helping women provide for their families after they have all been through so much.

But they haven't acted enough, so now we must. This one small act to connect you to a woman across the world who needs your help. We can start here: The Solar Cooker Project and speak up until our voices of sisterhood and compassion are heard across the globe and into Sudan, into a camp and into the tent and into the heart of a woman who needs our help. How can it be so easy and not be getting done?

Bacon + Low = Good

Wow...what a great 24 hours. Last night, thanks to David, we saw Low at the Triple Door and today, thanks to 826 Seattle volunteer Blaire, I tried bacon chocolate.
Life is good.
Low was fantastic. Melodic and thumping. I feel like the bass player has it kind of easy. I know that's probably really offensive in bass-playing circles, but he just stands there and taps the strings twice every beat. Thump-thump thump-thump. On second thought, there was an awesome little military surplus Navy chaplain's "field organ" that he played for a couple songs. It had pedals and appeared to fold up into a 3' x 2' box with a handle.

The bacon chocolate was equally good. Like a Nestlé Crunch, only baconier. Tiny nuggets of salty goodness hidden in sweet and smoky milk chocolate. Nay-sayers can keep their boring ol' regular Hershey bars. This is candy ingenuity at its Homer-esque best. Bacon does make everything better.

Effin' Awesome Art

We have cool friends. Aaron is in the middle of some crazy never-ending art show where he send you passwords, which you send back and he mails you art. We have received 5 postcards (with awesome artwork) and 4 works of art. In my most recent email with our password I told him

"Not sure how you pick who gets which piece of art in this complicated project, but if you have anything of a polar bear barfing up a beautiful, beautiful rainbow, that would rock."

And oh, how it does. See for yourself.


Aaron is a genius. On a related note, his wife, Jessixa, who is also a genius, will be showcased in the next Pacific Coast issue of New American Paintings. They are the coolest married artists since Sonny and Cher, only with out all the beads.

Update: Required Reading

A while ago, I wrote about seven soldiers who wrote a piercing op-ed to the New York Times about their experiences in Iraq. One soldier died right before it was published and Brandon Friedman reports at Daily Kos today that 2 more of them were killed last week. Sigh.

Harvesty!

We ran into a friend at the Baguette Box this weekend (truffled fries!!) She clued us in on the coolness that is the Harvest Celebration Farm Tour. Here in King County on the day after the Autumnal Equinox, several area farms will open their gates to the public for a bounty-sharin', donkey pettin', hay-ridin', pumpkin pickin', chef-cookin' demonstrationin' good time.

Saturday, September 22 from 10:00-4:30 $10 suggested donation. We are there. Holubs? Newmans? We might see some show chickens -- too good to be true?

Bye Bye Beard...Bye Bye Fuzziness

My husband is a wonderful, wonderful man. Last year we raised $400 for 826 Seattle as a "farmer" and "grower" team. He worked on the mustache and I worked on getting donations.

After 6 weeks, he had the most wonderful, luxurious, salt-and pepper chin and lip hair you can imagine. Alas, he had to shave all but the 'stache for the cause. No beards allowed at the wrap-party.

Once last-year's 'thon was over, I begged and pleaded for him to grow it back. It wasn't hard...he hates shaving. So, Jon-with-a-Mustache became just Jon and the beard and mustache were just part of the package....

Until August 26. That morning we got up and he shaved his face. Naked. Back to Jon-Before-the-Mustache. Whoa.

The rules this year are going to keep him from growing the beard during the mustache-growing-season. I am not sure how I feel about this, but hey! It's my paycheck! I gotta jump all the way on board here. So Viva la Mustache! Give until it hurts! Go here to donate.

Death by Caffeine

If you ever wondered how many cans of Red Bull it would take to kill you, then there is an internet tool that might help.

The website Energy Fiend has a Death by Caffeine Calculator which will answer your every musing on the topic of weight vs. caffeine overdose. It includes everything with caffeine in it, from Sprite to No-Doz to Starbucks.

It would take 2,340 Penguin Mints to kill me. Neat.

Required Reading

Today in the NY Times there is an op-ed by seven soldiers stationed in Iraq. It should be required reading for every senator and congressperson.

The claim that we are increasingly in control of the battlefields in Iraq is an assessment arrived at through a flawed, American-centered framework...

We are skeptical of recent press coverage portraying the conflict as increasingly manageable and feel it has neglected the mounting civil, political and social unrest we see every day...

Four years into our occupation, we have failed on every promise...

What hits me the hardest in this piece is that these military "grunts" (their word, not mine) speak more eloquently, truthfully, and factually and realistically than anyone I have heard yet.

They close the letter with a line that I think is most important of their message:

We need not talk about our morale. As committed soldiers, we will see this mission through.

Translation: All you assholes saying that telling the TRUTH about where we are in this quagmire is bad for troop morale are full of shit and you offend us with your condescension.

The question is, will anyone listen?

Elijah vs. Baseball, Bond and Steroids

My eight-year-old god son (of "I don't have any trouble with the word vagina" fame) is obsessed with baseball. I wondered the other day how he was feeling about Barry Bonds breaking the home run record. Yesterday, I got this email which he sent to the editor of the Seattle PI and it answered my question.

Sent: Saturday, August 11, 2007 8:00 AM
To: Opinion
Subject: Letter to the Editor re: Barry Bonds from Elijah, 8 years old

Dear Editor,

I really think Barry Bonds has been cheating when he broke the home run record. Why is Barry Bonds getting all of this attention? He was definitely on steroids. Why are you letting all of this crud get past you? Alex Rodriguez is not on drugs, he isn't using a corked bat. He's a nice guy and I don't know if Barry Bonds is but I'd much rather Alex Rodriguez break the home run record than Barry Bonds. Hank Aaron didn't use steroids to break Babe Ruth's record and I think it's very nice for Hank Aaron to call Barry Bonds on the phone. But Barry Bonds didn't break the home run record because he was most likely on drugs.

Sincerely,

Elijah Gold Newman
8 years old

I have no opinion whatsoever about Bonds. But Elijah's ire is hard to resist. Well put, 'Lij. Why are they letting all that crud get past them?

Pictures in Sqaures

This is a fun tool -- Mosaic Maker -- I've been playing around with it and putting some stuff on Flickr. You can do it by URL or tag or set.

Here's a mosaic of our wedding and celebration:

That settles it...

...we need a bigger fridge.

The only problem I see here (besides the fact that we will have to work very hard to eat all this by next week) is that the vino verde is burried somewhere down under the three heads of lettuce.This represents ONE WEEK of Jon's free produce take home from work. We'll never have to buy veg or fruit again.

Locally Grown Pie

Jon's new job has provided us with a gorgeous box of fresh organic produce each week. Right now blueberries are plentiful and have great texture and taste with just the right amount of tart and sweet. The last batch came from Many Hands in Rockport, Washington. Our apple trees in the back yard are also yielding a fantastic crop of super-crispy tart apples right now. I have been working hard and getting creative to find ways to use everything. The result last night was this:

Apple Blueberry Pie
Served warm with vanilla ice cream on top. Can I get an amen?

Georgetown Lunches

I wasn't expecting too much, but I was pleasantly surprised with the lunch Jon and I had at Kurry King today (5503 Airport Way South, Seattle, WA). The proprietress doesn't know much English except numbers and "You want taste?" but whatever she offers you, say yes and you will be happy. They offer a globe-trotting variety of curries (and some non-curry items) that are not super spicy or unique, but for the price are really quite a deal. We tried everything and then settled on masman and panang, both with chicken. Lunch for two (two kinds of curry, rice, iced teas and a spring roll) came to $15.00 with tax and tip. Ever since Jon got hired at Pioneer Organics we have been exploring Georgetown with really great results. Today: SmartyPants!

Effin' Awesome Magnets

As Part II of my "Effin' Awesome" series (which wasn't a series until today), I give you handmade magnets by my very best friend, Krista! Seriously, check these out:
They are so pretty and come four to a tin. Krista runs a small studio called Gallimaufry Arts in Amador City, California. She is a self-described "mostly stay-at-home-mom" who has worked really hard to get her art out there. I opened her e- newsletter (subscribe here) this morning and knew I needed a set (or two!). Support independent art! Check out her shop, it's effin' awesome.

Museum of Unnatural History

Jon and I went to Walla Walla last weekend. My sister-in-law and her boyfriend have opened a great little fresh fish market called A Fish on Land, they offer Walla Walla's freshest fish and oysters and other seafood delights. During lunch they serve really amazing fish and chips. The town was fine. Cute. Quaint. Small town-y. I couldn't live there, but it was nice to visit and go to the farmer's market and drive around to the wineries. I thought I had Walla Walla figured out and then we found the absolute highlight of the trip: the Museum of Unnatural History located at the Black Door Gallery on the town's quaint little main street.

We found the three-room museum in the upstairs of a bank building and walked, unsure into a black door that said, "Open." There, a bearded older man stood looking at his guestbook. After gasping and gaping and being delighted with just the entryway's displays, I asked him if he was the artist. He replied, "Yes, if you call this art, I am the artist."

Well, it is art and the artist is Gerald Matthews. While we were there he sat quietly on what looked like a very old director's chair, green accounting-style visor obscuring his eyes. When we asked him questions he didn't say more than was necessary. He seemed almost zen however, an air of "crotchety" swirled around him, that of an old man so mad at the establishment, if he started talking about it he might never stop ranting. His art is a mix of collage, sculpture, folk art and pop culture. A small sampling of the pieces includes decrepit dolls' bodies arranged in shadow boxes with tiny animal skulls, a tray of antique keys, tiny cut-outs of the Bush administration's faces put on oldy-timey clown figurines, clay angels with clunky big feet. The pieces are wry, creepy, political and bizarre. He was very friendly and humble and asked Jon to send his digital pictures if he didn't mind.

I asked him if he ever sells his art and he pointed to the wall of framed photos hanging in background of the picture shown here and said, "I sold those ones and have been trying ever since to get them back. There's no reason to sell! The only reason would be for my ego and these pieces couldn't fetch a price around here to do anything for that for me, so no. I don't sell anything." As much as there are several pieces that I would be eager/proud/lucky to own if he ever sold anything, I kind of like the idea of this genius hiding upstairs of the bank and being the coolest part of Walla Walla.

Here's me -- Simpsons style - UPDATE

I have to admit I am totally sucked in by the Simpsons Movie hype. The website is awesome and Jon and I went to the Kwik-E-Mart a few weeks ago. Here I am drawn as a Simpsons character: (And Jon made one too!!)

Effin' Awesome Dinner

This is the dinner we had a few nights ago when it was too hot to cook and too hot to even go outside and grill -- I call it the salami salad sandwich thing:


Ciabatta rolls toasted
Coppa salami ripped into bite-sized pieces
Organic tomatoes sliced
Red onions sliced
Two fistfuls of Arugula
A small handful of toasted pine nuts
Goat Cheese

Spread goat cheese on the toasted bread
Pile all other ingredients on top -- include a few chunks of goat cheese here too
Drizzle with balsamic and really good olive oil
Sprinkle with flake sea salt and fresh ground pepper

It reminded me of our Italy trip last year, which we were just coming home from around now. In Tuscany especially, we had been keyed into the simplicity of a few good ingredients combined well. This sandwich is a perfect example of that.

It's not that she's a woman, it's that she's an idiot!

Rebecca Traister writes over at Salon.com about Katie Couric's interview in New York Magazine.

I could go on and on about the interview with Katie, but instead I want to comment on Traister's reaction to it. She writes that Katie's public candor about the fears she has and questions she's asking herself with regard to her career move aren't helping to bolster her ratings. According to Traister, she needs to buck up and "grow a pair" and lie publicly that she loves her new career and it couldn't be going better. This is grossly Stepford Wivien and I couldn't disagree more. It will no more help Katie's ratings than putting her in a man's suit and calling her Olbermann. I will say, though, that Katie has made a career being falsely sincere and the people who enjoy Today are apparently stupid enough to fall for it. Traister's point might be that the time for bringing back the false sincerity might be now and it could reconnect her with the folks she left behind.

I would put forth that the reason that people aren't interested in watching Katie as CBS Newswoman is the same reason that no one calls Today a news program. It's not news. She is not a newswoman. We lost (if we ever had) respect for her because of the ridiculous sincerity she asked the hard questions such as, "Who CAN wear white before labor day?"over and over on Today. She did stories like, "Is your purse making you look fat?" and "Which is better, girls night in, or girls night out???!" These are not news. She interviewed grief stricken families involved in the tragedy-of-the-week -- from dead children to missing pets to a boat overturned that ruined our picnic on the water (wah!). All treated with the same false sense of urgency and importance and the implication that as Americans we should all care deeply about their loss/pet/picnic/whatever. These are not news stories.

The idea that a person like Katie could bring her spunky can-do attitude and "ball buster with a heart of gold" personality to change the evening news into something that more people want to watch -- that was the mistake. Katie can ask smart questions, be serious, stoic and real, but her popularity was based on the bubbly, giggling lady wearing the captain's hat while honking the ferry horn on the Today Show. I'm not sure people like Serious Katie. If the evening news was a popularity contest, she might be able to flash her million dollar smile and softball questions and win, but thankfully, apparently it's not.