Captain Underpants versus Voices from a Medieval Village

I laughed when I first read of the  growing disenchantment surrounding The Newbery Medal, the literary award for children's books. I wasn't wholly convinced to take it seriously by The Washington Post's take.  Of 25 Newbery winners and runners-up from 2000 to 2005, most of them dealt with issues some would consider too heavy for young minds to process. Four of the books dealt with death, six with the absence of one or both parents and four with mental challenges such as autism. The rest centered on tough social issues. Okaaay. 

This piece in the online magazine, Slate, convinced me that a literary war is brewing. (That or the winter storms left some of us with a tad too much time on our hands.

I get that prizes are big business. Since Oprah doesn't read children's books, the Newbery is one of the few ways sellers of children's books have of generating buzz and boosting sales. The golden seal of the Newbery affixed to the cover of a book is enough to get me to pull it from the shelf and peruse the pages. Whether I buy the book or not depends on if I think my 7-year-old will be interested in the storyline. My son is an emerging reader whose motivation to do the heavy lifting of reading depends on the literary reward. Some of the Newbery choices are hits with him, others are, in his words, snoozers.

So many of his choices, Junie B. Jones, Henry Huggins, Encyclopedia Brown and Cam Jansen aren't award winners. But my son loves them. So I guess it says something that I have more of those books on my shelves than those bearing the golden seal.  But what it says, in the grand scheme of things, isn't much. 

Winter at its best

I haven't taken that walk yet. A spot near the fireplace and the Sunday paper caused a delay. But my son is taking in enough of the outdoors for both of us. 

Of Winter Storms and Time Well Spent

I woke up this morning to twenty-five degree temperatures, high winds and a landscape blanketed under snow. The last week has been like this meaning I can never again say I live in a region of milder climes. There is nothing mild about having to empty the outdoor water systems and drag in the grill and all of my potted plants. The bird bath froze with water in it before I could move it so I just have to pray it doesn't crack. We're use to grilling year round so storing it for even for a week or two is a bummer. My husband went out and stocked up on flashlights and candles but he also did himself one better and made reservations at the Four Seasons in the city. I knew there was a reason I married that man!

 

I'm sitting here clutching a cup of hot coffee with a winter scarf wrapped around my neck wondering how much longer the skinny, tall tree in front of my window will last before the wind muscles it down like a high-school wrestler.  One of the new Mercedes-Benz hybrids just came down the hill, rounding the bend and passing my window, rolling smoothly along the icy plane and chunks of snow and dirt as though it were July. That Benz seemed to say, "neither sleet nor snow will keep me from going about my day!"  Reality check: Just looked up the sticker price and guess I'll stick with what I have in the garage.

If the weather is too bad for mere mortals, I've got plenty to do here. One of the reasons I started this blog was to take a personal look at several areas I write about professionally. The first is education. By the time I finish sorting out the best educational options and services for my 7-year-old I'm certain I'll be either crazy or qualified to write a book. (Hmmmm. The two could work hand-in-hand.) I want to do this over the holiday break so he returns to school, and I to work, with maybe not all of the answers but at least a new direction. The old route is a dead-end and I don't want my beautiful boy stuck there. Second thing I've got to do is finish a compilation of essays on fiber art. Part of that process includes making a square that will be part of a quilt for an artist friend, a fierce sista who favors Hawaiian batiks and tranquil hues of the ocean. She is also one of the smartest public advocates for children in this part of the country. She deserves a quilt so gorgeous all she and visitors to her home can do is stare at it.

But maybe a walk first.

There is something bracing about freezing cold air. I feel like I burn more calories when I'm out in it, even if I just went to the end of the driveway for the newspaper. My plan is to slip into my ski wear and see how far outside I get. The options are that in an hour or two I could be sledding down some of the mountainous hills we have around here, or I could be as I was last night, reclining on the couch under a shawl with a book in one hand and a beverage in the other. There's no shame in my game. Either way I'll let you know.

White Knights for Black Friday

We'll find out on the news later this evening whether shoppers went out and saved all of our economic hides. I'm refusing to participate. The best way to help America's credit addiction is to begin to just say no. 

Don't worry, I'm not trading Coach loafers for Birkenstocks I'm just saying I've had enough of rollercoaster ride our economy has us on. Someone once told me, when I complained about wanting to lose a few pounds, "eat less, move more." That simple. 

As Sinead O'Connor sang, "I do not want what I haven't got." 

Addendum: St. John suits and cashmere throws war mightily with me to be the exception to the rule.

Can I just tell you?

I usually love that opening sentence before the host of the NPR program "Tell Me More," takes it away in a dash of intellectual fury. But this recent podcast by Michel Martin left me wondering if there's any hope for the media when so many of us live in a bubble.

Yes, I said us. When Michel talks about the trade offs made by Michele Obama, including giving up her own income, her privacy and, let's face it, some of her power as a person equally as important and valueable as her husband, I agreed. I understood when Michel talked about her husband, a successful attorney who represents high-profile clients. But at some point the line from the movie Broadcast News came to mind: "What do you do when your life exceeds your dreams? Keep it to yourself."

Americans facing record foreclosures and the largest unemployment rate in recent history don't want to hear Michelle Obama whine about too many butlers or how the opportunity to help lead the largest wealthiest nation on the planet places a crimp in her future plans.

Luckily, our incoming first lady is too smart and self-aware to do this. But can I just tell you that I don't want anyone else doing it either. Those of us privileged enough to choose to work or not, to have household help or not and to have to worry about choosing our words in public as we flit from one social event to the next, are damn lucky. We may bemoan our exalted status as we stand in front of our closet wondering what to wear tonight but we ought to keep these things to a whisper. The explanation that such bemoaning is not about money or status but about the intangibles, doesn't fly. Fixating on the intangibles is a luxury most women catching NPR on the fly as they rush from one necessary task to the other don't have.

Everyone has their right to an opinion. And I'm exercising mine right now. The world is scary. We need all hands on deck, even the most bejeweled.

Martin is right that black women have always worked. We've always had our own career and piece of money. And I get it that a move to the White House interrupts that flow for Michelle Obama. Yes, the next four years will be all about the presidency. But this is more than a charitable trade-off. It is the steps that lead to large spheres of influence. Improving the lives of ordinary Americans will be the public's reward if this all goes right. And for the Obamas? Well when they exit the White House, they and their children will find the world theirs for the taking. Need a job that pays gazillions, here's one. Need a top-notch surgeon, this one's on speed-dial. Need anything from the yawning list of things most families do without, its yours. That's how power and affluence works. I don't know anyone who doesn't get that. But back to the Broadcast News guy, "Keep it to yourself."

And while my heart is working harder than Beyonce, let me add my voice to the call for more diversity among the chatter about Michelle Obama. Aren't there viewpoints beyond a parade of well-heeled, politically-connected women with D.C. area codes? I only ask because from what I've read on the website The Root, every writer is looking for the incoming First Lady to be vindication for their particular set of principles. One writer heralds Michelle Obama as the new poster child for stay-at-home black moms. Another writer says Mrs. Obama puts an end to feminism because she is under 50 and non-white.

Wow. To have all of these expectations placed upon one's back, I mean if there is anything the public can sympathize with Michelle Obama about, it is that.

The White House through the eyes of the butler

This is a touching story about a White House butler who has served presidents from Truman to John Kennedy to the Carters to the Reagans.

What struck me in the story, besides its simple beauty was how well the presidents and their families treated this man who was for all intents and purposes  part of a vast array of household help. To know that people still take time out of their busy lives to treat others as individuals deserving of respect and recognition gives me hope for mankind.

I'm still jet-lagged from spending the last week on the East Coast. Like the rest of the country I'm keyed up with anticipation over the future of our country under President Barack Obama. I'm trying to keep my expectations low. Interviewing policy experts, politicians and ordinary people, I realize that alot of hopes lie with Obama. Too many in my estimation. The peaceniks aren't going to get their quick end to the war. Iraq is a bloody quagmire and Afghanistan is as unbreachable as Sudan. Obama may be able to broker a peace deal between Israel and the Palestinians but President Carter did also and we see how long that lasted.

Closer to home, I'm excited about the challenge our new president sets before each of us: to change our lives. We can't go on the old way. Those of us who voted for Obama did so because we believe in his potential to change our world. But we shouldn't forget that the other part of that bargain included believing in our own ability to change. It is time to live simply, so others may simply live. 

No need to take vows of poverty or silence. I rather like the idea of enjoying what I have, whether its money or the biggest mouth this side of the Mississippi. I've always exercised a certain joie de vivre but mostly around significant events or objects. Now, everything must become significant. Every touch, every bite, every smell signals that I am alive and have elected change. Thinking of it, I am elated and if I'm honest, a bit tired. Change requires energy. :)

Et tu?

President Barack Obama and way too much champagne

More than 130 million Americans voted in yesterday's election, the most in our history! Folks rose to the occasion!

I wrote about this momentous occasion in my column this week. And then I ran out of the office like I was being chased.  My rationale for not working election night, the most important day for journalists was this:  when I look back I want to remember that I witnessed this election surrounded by people for whom the moment held the same magnificent meaning. 

We used the fine crystal for our bubbly and settled down to an evening of election returns punctuated by whooping, fist bumping and dancing around our living room. I knew I would have a headache the next day, and I do. But the most important election in my life time, and that of my parents and grandparents was no time to pretend to be unmoved. 

My neighbor, a stay-at-home mom who home schools her three children and believes in homeopathic remedies, baked an "Obama" cake, a chocolate-covered ring adorned with M&Ms added throughout the night to match the number of electoral votes won by Obama.

Surprises for me, included the large swaths of Latino voters in Florida who normally break Republican but voted this time for Obama. He pulled the young vote and his technologically efficient campaign ought to be a model for anyone planning to seek public office. 

Throughout the night and today, people have sent me anecdotes that tell me I'm not alone in my euphoria. There was the hard-bitten corporate lawyer happily ensconced in his fifties and his suburban McMansion breaking down in tears when Obama reached the winning number of electoral votes.  There was my home-schooling neighbor who spent the day making "get out the vote" calls for Obama and related the elderly Minnesota woman she talked to who was half-blind and in her 90s but was awaiting a ride to the polls so she could vote. No one wanted to let history pass them by. 

The Wall Street Journal attributed Obama's win to angst over the economy. But it was about so much more. In the Seattle area where I live, voters overwhelmingly approved tax increases for everything from parks and roads to fire stations. Angst doesn't send 130 million to the polls; hope does.

I'll leave off  with a sweet letter to our new president from the writer Alice Walker. Her charge to Obama: cultivate happiness, responsibility and good will in his own life and it will be a model the rest of America will follow.  Words to live by. Et tu?