So Freud was walking down the street when he saw a banana peel….

Freud and the Banana

The other morning I had a Freudian slip that got me thinking a few funny thoughts about my Main Man of Neuroses.  As you might gather from this blog, I have a whole Hell of a Lot of random thoughts, including thinking up the beginnings to jokes- a HUGE time sink.  As I’m sure you’ve noticed in jokes as in life, the setups come fast and easy – it’s the punchlines that are always the killer to create.  When a setup does come to me, I typically go to Google Images and type in my thought.  Inevitably someone – like the guy behind the above t-shirt image (That Web Design Guy)  has already produced some similar take on the idea that is amusing enough to satisfy.  It’s a nice quick way to process the thought so that I can move on with the important stuff in life, like penning a grocery list or picking up the dog poop, rather than sitting around for the many hours it may take to flesh out the joke.

So, back to the morning’s slip – because let’s face it, aren’t Freudian slips the ultimate punchlines?  As the blip occurred, I was thinking to myself, “Already? It’s only 7:42 AM and already I’m doing this?” The trigger?  A new post on Facebook from a Professor friend, Jeff Nunokowa. (*More on Jeff below) Well,  Jeff was making the point that in his teaching, much of what he accomplishes is to help his students “fill in their blanks. ” But, as a mother of a son soon to start the college process, I brought a certain listening to this post and instead of their blanks, I read it as saying that he helped kids, “fill in their banks.” A Sigmund moment if ever there were one.  Oh, the ever-present subconscious worry of a parent breaks through again.  At 50, if there is one thing that I’ve figured out, it’s that life plays out over a lonnnnngggg time.  This realization has led to my biggest concern: Have I done enough to help my children sustain their efforts, or have I been helping them train for one isolated sprint. High school to college is of course a very public sprint — one that we cannot ignore.  However, as anyone out there knows who has ever run a 10K or a marathon, sprinting only takes you so far.  Doing well over longer distances requires a whole different set of mental and physical skills (managing BOREDOM being one of them – more on that topic later this week.)  Aware of the worry behind my mis-reading, I took consolation in my breeding retriever who does not even seem to recognize her puppies when she meets them again only weeks after they’ve left the whelping box. And I paused to ask myself, are robins at all worried when their hatchlings fledge? Certainly we have all heard that the lilies of the field don’t share our concerns.  Maybe I just need to plant more lilies.

Lilies of the field

* You can read about Jeff Nunokowa in Fast Company and then buy his new and acclaimed book, entitled: Note Book* with its cornucopia of literary life lessons and philosophical insights.

Literary Perambulations: The Ransom of Red Chief by O. Henry

Porter as a young man.

Of all the short stories I was ever assigned, The Ransom of Red Chief is by far the most humorous, entertaining, and memorable.  The story was written by O. Henry – a pseudonym for William Sydney Porter, a Southerner born during the Civil war who moved to Texas and had a very colorful life.  A performer and humor writer of great regard, O. Henry may have honed his knowledge of the kidnappers in this story during his 3 year stint in an Ohio federal penitentiary.  He had landed there, after being caught as a fugitive, accused of bank fraud and embezzlement (several articles on his life insist he was SLOPPY but not a criminal.)  This marvelous story has a wonderful twist as do many O. Henry stories.  I’d say read “in” it but at about 16 pages,  it is a short read and well worth the effort.  Children of all ages will love hearing it read out loud.  Happy summer reading…

Oh Puh-leez – Restoration Hardware Is Back At It

Here we go again, the time of year when the National Association of Letter Carriers (AFL-CIO)’s work comp filings go up by at least 10%.  “Letter Carriers” my ass!  What with the whole necessity of delivering Restoration Hardware “source books,” let’s just call a spade a spade: more like the National Association of Bowling Ball Carriers once they spend a day lifting those packages.  Chronic lower back pain, strained lats, neck spasms – it happened back in 2014 and now I’m sure it’s happening again.  Frankly, if RH keeps this up, the USPS may have to consider axle enhancements for many of its local delivery trucks.

All I can tell you is THANK GOD I began Cross Fit in March.   Last year I swung the 17 lb bag of monochrome style folios up from my stoop and nearly had a coronary event as I lugged them into my home.  And what’s with the slippery plastic wrapping?  They could at least give us hand holds to grip onto.  This year,  applying the appropriate squat technique from my clean and jerks (which I have only recently realized is NOT called a snatch and grab), I was able to wrestle that beast off the portico and onto my forearms like nobody’s business.  My technique eclipsed that of a hungry lioness dragging home a 1200 lb. cape buffalo, if I do say so myself.  I seem to recall hearing one of my neighbors exclaim … “Wowww” as she backed away to call her husband for assistance with her RH deposit.

Once inside, I decided a few overhead squats with the catalogs were in order – just to test my mettle.  (See photo below)

And then I thought, next time there’s a Murph*, I’m gonna roll each “book” up and stick them all into the slots of my very own weight vest.  That way I can do my workout with RH close to my heart, because what better way is there to honor a fallen American Hero who died protecting my right to be mailed the heaviest catalog on earth against my will?  Just think, if he’d had a set of these “books,” they may have protected him significantly better than the standard-issue Kevlar vests they’ve been dispensing down at Coronado.  I reckon that if being mailed a 17 lb piece of junk mail isn’t the most stunning example of the power of a corporation to exert its individual right to free speech, I don’t know what is.   And you know those Navy Seals just live for their next purchase of fancy RH poolside furniture when they aren’t out there in the God-forsaken desert gunning down bad guys.  Hell, maybe we should advise them to take along a few thousand kilos of RH catalogs for their next bombing raid – nothing like “leafleting” the enemy – Patriot-style.

So, what to do with the catalog until my next Murph?  Well first of all, with a winter like we just had, I’ve sworn I’m gonna get prepared early this year, and I know I can use all the ballast I can possibly find to combat the fish-tailing tendencies of my beat up minivan.  Who needs four-wheel drive when you can have the added traction of the RH “source books?” Since the catalogs will be in the car anyway, I will now have access to a full 7″ of insulation any time I need it.  If you’re anything like me, October through late November you’re freezing your ass off at multiple stadiums around your county watching your kids play second-rate sports and wondering why you didn’t just get a couple of extra housebound pets and call it quits at that.  Well friends, with the help of the RH “bundle” you will freeze-no-more.  In fact, there’s so much insulation there that you will have plenty of cold-busting layers to share with all your friends.  My guess is with your new RH butt-saver-bundle, you could now sit in an igloo stadium watching Eskimos play a game of ice ball and it would feel like a spring day in Savannah, you’ll be so comfortable.

Speaking of spring, do you feel like you should  also be getting some warm weather use out of these things? Imagine the shock that first mosquito of the season is going to get when you whack him and all his buzzing friends from behind with 17 lbs of lethal RH force.  Talking about force – I’m thinking about starting a new RH self defense course.  Jab the sharp corners into your attacker’s eyes; place the slippery pages below his feet so he will slip and fall while running with you in a headlock; let’s face it, just one blow of the RH pile to the scrotum and your attacker isn’t getting back up any time in the near future.  Future female fraternity-party goers, take note – arm your self with the RH bundle and do it early…

The RH “source books” 2015 model is just the gift that keeps on giving.  Frankly, if you can persuade a bunch of your neighbors into giving you theirs, and you – like I – are strong enough to carry them – just stack several bundles up. Voila your very own DIY RH coffee table …MOVE OVER IKEA hack websites!  No need to buy ANYTHING from this catalog ever again.

* Murph: An agonizingly long CrossFit workout dedicated to a fallen Navy Seal.

_____________________________

Restoration Hardware’s Bogus, “What Do You Think We Are, Stupid?” Enviro-Caveat Page, recreated below, for your eye-rolling pleasure:

1

OUR COLLECTION
OF SOURCE BOOKS
IS MAILED ONCE A YEAR.

Our 6 source books – 2 Lifestyle and 4 category books – are published just once a year and shipped to you in a single package. BLAH BLAH BLAH

2

OUR PAPER
IS FOREST CERTIFIED.

Our source books are printed on FSC chain-of-custody certified paper. 100% of the fiber used in our paper is sourced from responsibly managed forests. We are the founding sponsor of the Verso Forest Certification Grant Program. The program provides start-up funding to expand forest certification BLAH-BLAH, BLAH-BLAH, BLAH-BLAH

And here it is, in it’s entirety, as a link for those who really want to eye-roll: Restoration Hardware’s Disingenuous Enviro-Caveat – What B.S.!

Art Thursdays: Introducing Kids to Art

This summer, I plan to impart my love of art, science and culture to my children., even if it kills me (and believe me, I hesitated in saying “kills me,” just in case it actually does.  I fear that then you, my gentle readers, might have an excuse to dance around and say, “I told you so, I told you so,” when you read my obituary in the Globe).

I’m a pretty realistic person.  So I do know that mixing art/culture with children tends to pose some challenges.  In preparation, I have turned to every corporate training I’ve ever had on leadership and management in order to figure out how I will co-opt my sons into going along with this plan. There’s a basic tenet in leadership training that goes something like this, “In order to improve your leadership effectiveness, meet people where they are at.”  Introducing 3 boys to great works of art certainly will take some real walking in their shoes and where my kids shoes are at right now is basically Call of Duty Modern Warfare and anything about the Navy Seals.

Caveat on my summer: by summer, I mean the end of the blissful, seven daily hours of free care via the public school system.  I know it is soon to be summer because this free care is coming to a screeching halt in 3 days.  This is the summer of short exciting trips for each child interspersed with long periods of nothing scheduled.  They requested it this way.  I want to give you a sense of how I am now feeling about this state of affairs. Do you know the feeling when you hear your child is running water upstairs and you get all worried that the sink may overflow or they might drown? You know how you find yourself inching ever more towards the stairs in order to properly assess whether your growing anxiety is justified?  Well, that is just about how I now feel about giving my kids this much say on how full their schedules will be for summer 2015. The closer I get to “summer” the more worried I am getting.

Today was the day I decided it was fish or cut bait time in terms of hatching a plan so that I can meet the potential onslaught of anticipated endless TV watching, mess and sloth head on.  Basically, the plan looks something like this (please snicker quietly if you think this plan won’t fly – it’s all I’ve got and I’m holding onto it like a drowning rat on a small, floating plank in the ocean):

1. Let them sleep as late as possible each day (Pipe dream, the sun wakes them by 7 AM but here’s to hope that that will stop when school’s out.)
2. Eat and exercise while it is cool.
3. Media at midday when it is hot.
4.   2-3 days a week, in late afternoon/early evening when others are clearing out, we will hit a museum-periodically they are even free then; 1-2 days a week we will go to an afternoon movie, with a fun snack or meal thrown in as a bribe to encourage cooperation.

With mantra in hand: “The fun in the planning is meeting them where they are at.  The fun in the planning is meeting them where they are at, ” I have dived in to research war museums, any techie museum where they think they are still on media even if they are now transported to within the 4 walls of a museum (e.g. Museum of Science, MIT Museum, Discovery Museum) and finally, art in a typical art museum that has something to do with violence, death, pestilence, and anything that looks even remotely like a zombie – I’m betting on the middle ages to fill my needs here.

Well, to my shock when I opened up an article: Harvard Art Museums in the NY Times about the recent remodel, it led me to the website which featured the (below) painting of Jesus v. Satan.  And I actually think that that painting will appeal to zombie loving boys! Can’t you see Jesus saying, “Die, Satan” in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s voice?  Or possibly Jesus in a perfect imitation of Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry, saying, “Go Ahead, Make My Day…” Already I’m seeing movie-art tie ins! Don’t judge – sometimes you’ve got to go to the more edgy material to hold their attention.

This image is by an artist from Sienna known only as the Master of the Osservanza who painted from c. 1425 to c. 1480.  It is known as The Descent into Limbo and I frankly think the image of Satan whose been stomped down by Jesus and now rests in a hovel under a golden door is kind of funny, in the same way that Wiley Coyote is pretty funny when he finds himself pancaked at the bottom of a canyon.  Maybe the painting should be called: “Beep Beep, Says Jesus”.  I think I’ve stumbled onto the summer theme – “Caption that Art Work.” The boys are going to have a lot of fun cartoon captioning great works of art throughout this and other museums.  Wish us luck!*

*There’s always my desperate go to if this doesn’t work – go into a room in any art museum and tell your child to pick the one work of art they’d save if there were a fire and tell you why.  It’s pretty effective at keeping their attention and you periodically get some pretty creative responses.

You Know How I Know That School Has Just GOT to Come to an End?

Cliff Shot – Double Espresso

I know because last week I ran out of kid snacks and instead I packed my 9 year old a 100 milligram double espresso energy shot for his snack time.  OK…before you get all judge-y on me…First, my kid LOVES them – he loves them so much that we have to hide them in the house. Second, in my defense, it was Field Day and these things are for athletes.  The school did after all send all kinds of dire emails beforehand warning us about proper pre-workout foods and hydration and sun lotion.  I will admit, however, that the eye-rollers amongst you are probably right — there was no actual communication about proper caffeination in the email onslaught from the principal and the nurse).

Nothing says I have ceased to give a shit what my kid’s teacher thinks about me, my family and my kid quite like sending in a Cliff Double Espresso Turbo Energy Shot for snack time.  Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE this teacher.  It’s just that Day 174 of 180 happened to be the day when I just snapped.  And when a mother snaps in this public a way, then the entire system should realize that it is time for the whole 8 AM have you brushed your teeth, what do you mean you haven’t eaten yet, get your shoes on horror show to cease and desist – PRONTO.

Worst part of the whole thing? When was THE ONE time my husband offered to wash out the lunch box? You guessed it – that evening. And what did he find? Yup…the fully devoured, flat, cleaned out packet of tawny espresso goop… HIS precious goop, the goop that he lovingly hides so that he has just the right number for his harder workouts each month.  I bugged him for months about helping with the lunchboxes and THIS happens.  173 consecutive days of hand cut organic apples, raw milk cheddar from cows with names and cookies baked by vegan Buddhists and he finds the one time I slipped  – albeit kind of a big slip – and went full tilt off the reservation of healthy-mom snack protocols.  It’s always the way…isn’t it…

Food Friday: How to Handle the Resident LocaBore…

You know THAT person…the LocaBore – the one who picks through the scraps from the plates during a dinner party?  The one who spend hours prepping their waste – sorting the vegetable matter for composting and then taking  bones and meat fat out back to BURY in self-dug micro-pits that dot the backyard landscape  — the pits that might break your ankle if you aren’t careful.  Some of these extreme enviro-weenies are still enough in touch with the litigious reality of the suburbs that they have at least covered their meat holes with board and heavy rock – a strategy that also discourages fox and dog and possibly coyote from foraging on the tender morsels before the requisite 30 years of aging returns the meager nutrients back to the soil.  You know this type, right? These are the friends that Nick and I like to call the “ashes to ashes, dust to dust” locavores – those few radical “ultra-local” eaters whose hallmark is often prominent ownership of the cult back-to-the lander classic, the Humanure book (if you don’t know this one already, you may not have the stomach to learn…research at your own peril.) If you haven’t met someone like this, you obviously have not spent nearly enough time in Lincoln or Lexington or Marin.

It can be quite intimidating to make these folks’ acquaintance and even harder to maintain a friendship. No matter what small victory you may have in your quest for local healthy eating, they have done it all  already — more AND better. You buy leeks at the farmers market, they already have them in their very own garden.  You eat raw honey WITH the comb, they have an entire beekeeper’s outfit in the back of their shed and bee boxes generating artisanal honey in their clearing. (You must resist the temptation of asking whether you can borrow the LocaBore’s bee keeping outfit for Halloween next year – that request will trigger a whole LONG conversation about bee diseases and hive collapse – as if someone else, from some neighboring hive-owning home, might bump HIS bee suit into YOUR bee suit while out trick-or-treating and thereby cause an inadvertent but deadly cross-contamination bee suit disaster …. trust me on this one!)

If you are tired of being tweaked by the pontifications of your favorite LocaBore,  there is a simple solution.  And that, my friend, is a $2 basil plant from your local grocery store.  You may notice a current that runs through every post in this blog: my caution precedes me and my impulse is to share each thought and idea with the admonition to START SLOWLY… merely dip your toe in to new experiences.  EMBRACE your inner hesitancy. DO NOT tax yourself by jumping in whole hog. With irrational exuberance comes some very time consuming and costly mistakes.   Remember: tentative hesitancy is what has kept your bloodline alive through famine, war, pestilence and wild bear attacks.

So, just get the 1 potted plant for your windowsill or counter top. The nice thing about a $2 basil plant is that it is meant to be used up – my polite way of saying that the intention is to KILL the basil plant over time – in fact I encourage you to kill it just BEFORE the moment that your lack of watering will have killed the plant anyway (N.B. I have been known to use a few “artisanally dried” i.e. DEAD basil leaves in a pinch.)  Over time, use the delicious leaves whole in salads, chopped in salad dressings, ground into pesto, placed under the skin of a baking chicken, or shredded into a chiffonade and sprinkled over tomatoes and mozarella or in a tomato, goat cheese and basil panzanella salad – so easy! Then, when you’ve polished off the leaves, you can either use the stems to flavor a soup stock, or declare yourself complete and pitch the remnant into your compost or even into the farthest back garden where no one ever looks, if you don’t yet have a compost pile.* Then, when the resident LocaBore talks about his leeks, which are probably growing at least 20 FEET from his house, minimum,  you can share that your garden is only 18 INCHES from your saucepan.

* PS:  DO NOT …and I mean DO NOT EVER … ask your LocaBore friends about compost piles either.  That is unless you want a dissertation-length lecture about dry and wet and layering and rain and sun and turning vs. not turning the compostable matter with a pitchfork.  You will thank me for this advice … I promise…)

Voilà – The Wellesley Riviera is born…

Le Lac du Morse

Dear Wellesley Friends,

The time is upon us. In just 2 weeks all schools, public and private, will have disgorged their charges and summer will go into full swing. And yet, I have a nagging sense that something is missing for those of us for whom our Wellesley house is our “four season” house, where summering elsewhere is but a delightful dream – a reverie of a midsummer’s night. Friends, I ask you, how can we bring back the resplendent Wellesley summer vacation scene of yore? The 19^th Century Summering Style of Hunnewells and Durants — families who escaped from their city dwellings , coaching out on the bucolic byways and lanes of Wellesley to enjoy lakeside breezes, punting contests on our lakes and ponds, and pantalooned bathing on private shorelines.

I would like to propose that the mood of stylish summer recreation would be mightily enhanced with one simple name change. I invite you to join me in banishing the term, “Morses Pond” from your vocabulary and instead, envision the dawn of a new era where we as a community join together with friends and family on the beaches of The Wellesley Riviera. All that this necessitates is that you acquire, in the next 2 weeks, a few accoutrement (that’s “Ah-Coo-Treh-Mon,” for the uninitiated amongst us).  To help foster the proper Côte de Wellesley mood, please provision yourselves with the following accessories vite, vite:

• A strapless bikini or maillot-style swimsuit – paired with a colorful sarong draped decorously to give the illusion you are covering your topless self. NOTE: extra points to those of you who can persuade your man to don a coordinating sarong, particularly if it is worn over harem pants a la David Beckham. 
• Espadrilles! This one is critical: men women AND children of both sexes – you MUST wear espadrilles!                    
• I’m pretty sure there is a subset of residents who will be excited to learn that for the sake of the summering community, a few of you will need to purchase an antique convertible – extra points for a Renault, Citroen, or Fiat – triple points if you can find one with a picnic basket decorously attached to the boot.  
• Lastly…and you will thank me … all of your handsome 16-20 year old sons will now have summer employment because you will be purchasing a minimum of 2 cute canvas beach chairs and a coordinating large beach umbrella. Your sons will be lugging this equipment from your minis (or mini-vans) to the beach like the plagistes or beach boys of the fancy French resort towns.     
• Bon Courage Mes Amis – you are about to have the best Wellesley summer of your life time! Now to work on relaxing the liquor laws so that champagne cocktails and les apéritif can be served on the banks of Le Lac du Morse…