I Choose ... Who?

Today in Chicago, we had runoff elections for city aldermen. I voted, because I feel strongly that voting is our sacred civic duty. However, once again, the vote was clearly a choice between the lesser of two evils. Why is that always the case in elections?

On the up side, I did get to use the fancy-schmancy electronic touch-screen voting machine, complete with printed record of my vote. Tell me again why Diebold says we can't have printed records from electronic voting machines?

Miscellany

It's official: We'll be spending a week in June in a beach house in Oregon so that the twins can celebrate their second birthday with their paternal grandparents. This will be the girls' first big trip away from home (including their first flight) -- so my excitement at the prospect of a beach-house vacation is tempered with a bit of trepidation. Wish us luck.

You have missed your last chance to see the Chicago Chamber Choir in concert for the '06-'07 season. Yesterday was our final concert, and I think it was the best of the batch.

The twins' physical therapist called Evelyn a spatial genius. Like I need medical professionals to tell me about the girls' geniushood -- but it is gratifying nonetheless.

April is indeed the cruelest month. I'm ready to send it on its way.

So much to get done! Back to work for me.

Tunak Tunak Tun

I don't understand this, but I love it.




(Or you can watch it here.)

Smoke 'Em If You Got 'Em

There's talk of an Illinois statewide ban on smoking in bars and restaurants. Several Illinois communities have passed local smoking bans; this ban looks like the next anti-smoking step.

Now, let me make it clear that I'm just about as anti-smoking as they come. This attitude most likely stems from the fact that I lost a beloved grandmother to lung cancer. I experience emotional and even physical pain every time I see a loved one light up. Few things on Earth bother me more. I think the tobacco companies are pure evil -- they hide data about just how dangerous cigarettes are, they conspire to make cigarettes more addictive, and they encourage kids to start smoking young, creating new generations of addicted customers. (Speculation? Hearsay? Unfounded claims? I don't think so. There's pretty good evidence that these assertions are true.) And I can't tell you how much I love going to a totally smoke-free restaurant or bar. It's truly a delightful experience. I wish all such establishments would get rid of their smoking sections.

Yet despite my hatred of cigarettes and tobacco companies, despite my visceral twisted-gut reaction to smoking, despite my desperate desire to protect everyone I know and love from the evils of cigarettes, I just cannot support these smoking bans.

As adults, we get to make these kinds of choices for ourselves. Restaurant and bar owners get to decide what works best for their establishments and for their clientele. Customers can choose where to drink and dine. It's perhaps a bit more complicated when we consider the employees of these establishments, and maybe it's naive or simplistic to say that these people should just find a job elsewhere if they don't like the smoke. But surely there are other job options these people can pursue. And if the market truly supports smoke-free establishments, then more and more bars and restaurants will ban smoking all on their own.

It just isn't appropriate for government bodies to dictate this sort of thing, in my opinion. It would be really, really great if everyone decided to up and quit smoking, but these bans just aren't going to accomplish that. What do you think? Am I being short sighted or narrow minded here? Does this mean I have to resign my membership in the Democratic Party? Am I totally smoking crack?

Give or Take a Few Billion Years

I just stumbled across this startling statistic (while reading The Language of God): 45% of Americans are Young-Earth Creationists. That means that almost half of my fellow Americans believe the Earth is less than 10,000 years old. I must say I was a bit taken aback to learn that the number is so high.

I'm curious -- what are your thoughts on creationism? Are there any Young-Earth Creationists among my readers? If you are so inclined, please use the comments to discuss.

In a Secure, Undisclosed Location

In Lee Iacocca's book Where Have All the Leaders Gone?, Mr. Iacocca says he wants to light a fire under Americans -- he's outraged about the state of our nation, and he wants us to be outraged, too.

Well, I'm already outraged, but this excerpt from Iacocca's book certainly added fuel to the flames. Check it out if you feel like getting all worked up about the pathetic excuse for leadership that currently occupies the Oval Office.

Giving credit where credit is due: I found this link over at Whatever.

Let Me Count the Reasons...

...why I might never eat out again. At least not in New York City.

From CNN.com: Rat-infested restaurant's passing grade under fire

"...Thomas documented only 87 rat droppings and didn't cite an additional 20, which would have caused the restaurant to fail the inspection and could have forced it to close immediately, the department said."

Am I missing something? Eighty-seven rat droppings isn't enough to close a restaurant immediately? Just exactly what do we consider to be an acceptable level of rat feces in an eating establishment?

Encased Meats, My Friends

This afternoon, we made the trek out to Hot Doug's for the best hot dogs and fries in the city. It's a tragic situation, really. The surly proprietor...

...and recent troubles with the law have been just terrible for business:


Mr. Sohn was entertaining and friendly, as always. I'm sure his delightful demeanor (or his "slight"and "owlish" ways, as New York Times food reviewer R.W. Apple, Jr. put it) are part of what keeps customers flocking to his door (in addition to that mouth-watering menu).

Some of you can attest to the fact that pretty much anyone who comes to visit me in Chicago is subjected to a trip to Doug's. (And every one of you will agree that the long lines and 20-minute drive past countless inferior hot-dog stands is well worth it, right?) Those of you who haven't experienced the joys of "The Sausage Superstore" -- well, it's time you get your plane tickets and hop a ride to Chi-town, pronto.

As you can see, the twins are big fans of the duck-fat fries:

Gentle Jean

One of the songs on the Chicago Chamber Choir's spring concert program is an arrangement of Stephen Foster's "Gentle Annie." It's a beautiful arrangement of a stirring song, prominently featuring the tenors and accompanied by guitar. I think that song is my favorite moment in our spring concert. According to Timm, our gifted and talented director, the song was written for Foster's grandmother.

After our first performance of this program, I was talking to my mom on the phone and telling her how much I think she'd enjoy this music. It's all lovely early American music, which is right up my mom's alley. When I told her about our arrangement of "Gentle Annie," Mom told me that the song reminds her of her mother, my Grandma Jean, who died almost 12 years ago.

Mom is totally right -- the song's description of a kind, sweet, gentle woman who is sorely missed by her loved ones is pretty accurate. She was devoted to her family and showered attention and love on her numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She never missed a band concert, a tee-ball game, or a wrestling match. While her health still allowed it, she shuttled us kids to and from marching band rehearsals and took us out for Taco Bell -- a special treat indeed.

Grandma Jean was an excellent nurse. She believed that those who have experienced a great deal of physical pain are better equipped to have compassion for the suffering of others, which made her extremely qualified indeed to be a compassionate person. Grandma Jean was a young girl in the late 1920s when her osteogenesis imperfecta reared its ugly head, leaving her bedridden in body casts due to badly broken legs. It's a wonder she was able to recover from those injuries. When I suffered similar broken bones in my childhood, I spent long stretches of second grade in the hospital where Grandma worked. She always came to visit me on her breaks, bringing me treats and bullying the pediatric nurses who weren't as compassionate as they might have been.

I think every one of Grandma Jean's grandkids felt like they shared a special relationship with her. In my case, we had a common love of literature. Grandma Jean and I would discuss Jane Austen, Willa Cather, and Dostoevsky. Shortly before she died, she gave me her (much-coveted) copy of the complete works of William Shakespeare, a worn and fragile tome that once belonged to her grandfather. It is one of my most prized possessions.

Sure, Grandma Jean had her raucous side. She was nigh unbeatable at Balderdash and a worthy opponent at Trivial Pursuit. She was a passionate liberal; regular visitors to this blog with infer that most of the apples in this family didn't fall far from the tree. Near the end of her life, she advocated legalizing marijuana and prostitution so they could be regulated and taxed. I learned new curse words by watching Rush Limbaugh with her, and you don't want to know what that woman had to say every time Bob Dole showed up on C-SPAN.

Bob Dole figures prominently in one of my favorite memories from those last few days, when Grandma Jean's cancer was spreading fast and we all knew the end was near. A group of family members was gathered in Grandma Jean's bedroom, talking softly as she slept. Suddenly, Grandma woke up and exclaimed, "Bob Dole is in the house! Bob Dole is in the house!" She was clearly distraught, so we all tried to calm her down. "No, no, Grandma! He's not here! Why would Bob Dole be in our house?" Finally, my aunt Sherry said, "No, I think Bob Dole is in the Senate."

Even after all these years, Grandma Jean leaves a hole in our hearts and our lives. I'm so glad she met Airan before she died, and I'm heartbroken that she wasn't alive to meet Evelyn and Sophia. I wish the twins had this amazing woman in their lives -- I take comfort in the knowledge that they have many excellent grandparents and great-grandparents to love and spoil them.

At Friday night's CCC concert, I had a hard time keeping it together while we sang "Gentle Annie." I imagine our final concert on the 15th will be just as hard. But I'm so glad I could call this wonderful woman my grandmother, and I'm glad to honor her memory now.

Gentle Annie
by Stephen Foster

Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie,
Like a flower thy spirit did depart;
Thou art gone, alas! like the many
That have bloomed in the summer of my heart.

Shall we nevermore behold thee;
Never hear thy winning voice again --
When the Springtime comes, gentle Annie,
When the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain?

We have roamed and loved mid the bowers
When thy downy cheeks were in their bloom;
Now I stand alone mid the flowers
While they mingle their perfumes o'er thy tomb.

Ah! the hours grow sad while I ponder
Near the silent spot where thou art laid,
And my heart bows down when I wander
By the streams and the meadows where we strayed.

Weekend Recap

Friends Dave and Mandy were in town for the weekend, which was great fun. I've known Dave since kindergarten, and it's always nice to catch up with him and his lovely wife. On Friday, they were kind enough to indulge me by coming to my choir concert and claiming to enjoy it. Saturday was spent walking the beach and enjoying some delicious Ethiopian food (Dave knows his stuff). And Sunday, we walked the beach some more and brunched at the Heartland Cafe before Dave and Mandy had to catch their train. Highlights:

• Dave was able to successfully identify the autograph on my super-awesome saltcellar.
• Dave and Mandy sampled two contenders for the "Best Pizza in Chicago" title: Giordano's (boo!) and Pequod's (yay!). No final pronouncement of preference was given.
• The sofa bed, in a Sarlacc Pit-like moment, nearly swallowed Sophia whole.
• Dave discovered the joys of walking Pepper, a.k.a. "Demon Dog."
  

Good times.