I thought of titling this “A Moment in Self-Absorption” because isn’t that what this really is. Here’s here I just bare my soul, spout whatever comes to mind, ramble for a bit, and basically just say way more than I should. So, be forewarned A Peek Inside may be retired and be replaced by A Moment in Self-Absorption. All you bloggers out there who realize that self-absorption is really what blogging is all about … raise your hands. Hmmm … not as many as I thought there would be. Maybe I’m wrong about this.
I made lettuce wraps for dinner tonight. Chicken lettuce wraps. A knock-off recipe of P.F. Chang’s Chicken Lettuce Wraps. They were good. But I’m not much of a fan of P.F. Chang’s. Part of the appeal of Chinese food is the relative economic value of the food. Not sure what I mean? OK. Here’s the deal. Chinese food … usually large portions for ridiculously low prices. P.F. Chang’s … not so much.
But the lettuce wraps. They were good. A decent low-cal dinner with flavor. You want the recipe? Google it. It’s right there. And, isn’t that amazing? Everything you could possibly want to know is at your fingertips these days. I’m not sure that’s a good thing or bad thing.
I was watching Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives this afternoon and one of the places Guy Fieri visited was a Vietnamese restaurant in New York. They made crispy crepes — made with rice flour, tumeric, and not much else. A few minutes later, via Google, I had a recipe for Vietnamese Crispy Crepes. Again … is that good or bad? Isn’t there something to be sad for there being a bit of mystery in life for not being able to access something like Vietnamese Crispy Crepes except for that restaurant down on 72nd street, on the corner, where the chef toils away, sweat on his brow, making treasures from his ancestral homeland? I mean, seriously, what’s the point of it all, if we can just go to google, find the recipe, and make it ourselves?
So, I was making dinner, eating dinner, and thinking about this post. What would I contribute to the blogosphere tonight? And, now, it’s completely slipped my mind what I was going to blog about.
Hold on a sec.
No, seriously. I have completely forgotten what it was that I was going to fill this post with.
It’s coming to me.
I think this … I want to become apolitical. Apolitical is defined as “not interested or involved in politics.” For just about 30 years, I have been fascinated with politics. I’m a liberal Democrat. I have pretty much voted for Democrats my entire life. Not because I pledge allegiance to the party line. No, it’s because the Republicans have rarely offered a credible alternative based on what I believe. Give me a Republican who recognizes that we all don’t live on our own islands, that we must all be in this together, that a rising tide lifts all boats, and I’ll vote for that Republican. Problem is that those concepts don’t seem to be in the DNA of Republicans.
I have tired of the nature of the debate. It’s all about name-calling and winning and … well most of it just isn’t really based on reality or facts. And, it keeps getting worse. So, I want out. Our political system, our system by which we are governed, seems irrevocably, irretrievably broken. And I want nothing more to do with it. I may very well try to come up with a way to start ignoring the political blogs and the election. At the moment, based on how I feel, I won’t be voting this fall in the state elections.
This bothers me. I have thought there are certain basic civic duties we all have. Which we should take seriously. They are a part of what makes us citizens. One of those is serving on juries. Another is voting. Participating. At the most basic level.
It just seems pointless though. It’s all finger-pointing, arguing, casting aspersions, and, like I said, nothing that is based on reality or facts. So, I’m going to see what I can do about just not caring as much about it all. It just is what it is.
You ever notice how many times I start sentences with “So”? It drives me crazy. I wish I could stop. But, you know, sometimes “So” just seems right…
So, here was my day. (See what I did there?)
I had this incredible, wonderful Saturday that was all of my own. I have this story — Northville Five & Dime — that is awaiting my putting the finishing touches on it. All I need to do is commit to writing the final few chapters and it is done. Instead …
First I had to get the kid to school at 5:00 in the morning for him to travel to some school competition a couple of hours away. Well, once I got home, I slept for a few hours. Then I did this. Then I did that. Then I had to go to the grocery story for the ingredients for the chicken wraps. Had lunch. Took a short nap. Read a bit. Vacuumed the house. Watched a bit of the Food Network. Read a bit.
Here’s what I’m reading. Sycamore Row … it’s John Grisham’s latest. It harkens back to Jake Brigance … a key character in Grisham’s first novel A Time to Kill. I loved that story. Absolutely loved it. And was disappointed a few years after I read it to see an interview of Grisham in which he claimed to be embarrassed by the story. Which, of course, leads to me to wonder why he would go back to one of the main characters if he was so embarrassed by the story. Besides, as I read the story, I begin to see all of these problems with it. Weaknesses in how he writers. Massive weaknesses in how he writes. And I wonder … what the hell? When did Grisham become such a crappy writer?
And, back to my Saturday … you know, the one where I have all this time and this story that’s burning a hole in my head. Hours and hours to burn. And burn them I did. It’s now almost 8:00 in the evening. Dinner is done. The kitchen is cleaned up. The house vacuumed. And … I have contributed nothing to that damn story.
These are the Saturdays of my life.