What’s In A Name?

I’m dutifully reading The Progress Paradox, as are you, no doubt.  But otherwise, my reading list is about as deep as a puddle these days.   This morning I read the nutritional information on a box of cereal, but that’s about as complex as it gets.


                                                 

By the end of the weekend, I’m going to try to kickstart my intellect. 

Here’s what I’ll be thinking about reading.  You should read it, too, so we have something to talk about.

Andrew Sullivan wrote
“May the Judgment Not Be Too Heavy Upon Us,” on The Daily Dish about the contradictions and hypocrisy and outright scariness of the willingness of cretins like Dick Cheney and misguided “Christians” to advocate torture.

Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman, authors of
Nurture shock: New Thinking About Children , have an article at The Daily Beast, “The Child-Testing Craze,” that every parent or human on the planet with a stake in public education THAT MEANS YOU, should read.  While you’re at it, read the book. 

Maybe it’s because I saw a preview for Sex and The City II, which looks idiotic but I’ll see it I’m sure because, Hello?  Mr. Big?  I’d watch him read the phone book on the big screen for three hours, but I want to read the book that Carrie Bradshaw was reading in the first idiotic Sex and the City movie,
Love Letters of Great Menby (?? compiled by??) John C. Kirkland. 

And because it’s February, and February sucks, and I’m feeling apathetic and pasty and yuck, I’m going to read all the trashola Janet Evanovich Ranger Stephanie Plum Novels.  Again.  For the fourth third second time.  I know.  It’s really sad.  And I’m obviously not going to read them ALL this weekend.  Probably.  And no, we’re not going to discuss the fact that someone has cast Katherine Heigl in the role of Stephanie Plum for the movie version of the first book.  If we pretend it didn’t happen, maybe it will go away.



Yesterday’s Black Bean and Tomato Quinoa, adapted from
Epicurious.com, originally appeared in Gourmet in July, 2007.

Whisk together a bunch of lime zest and lime juice – the recipe calls for 2 tsp zest and 2 TB juice, but I’d go all out with the lime juice and add as much as you can get your hands on – 2 TB melted and cooled butter, 1 TB veg. oil (you could skip this, I did and nobody missed it), and 1 tsp. sugar.  Why?  I don’t know.  Also add some salt and pepper or else you’ll be stuck in blandville eating your bland dinner.

Do the whole washing and rinsing the quinoa thing.  It’s irritating, and those little grains get everywhere.  If you skip this step, I’ll never tell, and I’ll probably respect you more.

Cook 1 cup quinoa in a pot of boiling water, uncovered, for about ten minutes.  Drain it, put it in a sieve, and set the sieve over 1 inch of boiling water in a big pot.  Cover the quinoa with a dish towel, put the lid on it (it doesn’t matter if the lid doesn’t fit, because why would it?  On top of a sieve and a dish towel?).  Steam it all over medium head for about ten minutes.  Remove from heat and let stand for about five minutes.

Add the lime-butter stuff, a can of rinsed black beans and a bunch of diced fresh  tomatoes to the quinoa and mix it all together.  Add more pepper, and salt if you don’t have high blood pressure or aren’t prone to bloating.

Good warm, good cold.  Better with some interesting hot sauce.

Wholesome Grains and Scummy Politicians…It’s What’s For Dinner!

I was all set to regale you with the tale of a culinary success and give you a gentle nudge to finish The Progress Paradox: How Life Gets Better While People Feel Worse  by Gregg Easterbrook,  which is the Virtually Well Read book selection of the month, but then my husband sent me a link to this from Politics Daily

“A vast majority of Americans — 80 percent — oppose last month’s Supreme Court ruling that lifted restrictions on corporate and union spending in political elections, according to a Washington Post/ABC News
conducted Feb. 4-8. Though most other areas of national politics may be
paralyzed by partisanship, the opposition to the decision cuts across
Republican, Democratic and independent lines.”
  (This is just the first paragraph, click through to read the whole thing.)

Well, duh.  Everybody opposes it except for the people with money buying influence and the people accepting the bribes money in order to “more carefully consider the position” of said influence-peddlers.

It says a lot about us, we the people, that we need statistical evidence to tell us what we feel.  It says even more about us, we the people, that we continue to elect into office a bunch of people who willfully ignore what we the people feel. 

Tomorrow, quinoa with black beans and tomatoes and a little book talk. 

Jeff Bridges Could Be My Biological Father

Or something like that.

My grandmother was in a sorority at UCLA with Jeff Bridges’ mother.  One night at a party she introduced Jeff Bridges’ mother, who was not at that time to the best of my knowledge anybody’s mother but whose name is the same as my grandmother’s name, to a guy she knew named Lloyd.  Bridges.  They fell in love and got married and had babies.  One of the babies was Jeff Bridges.  In my version, Jeff Bridges’ mother stole Lloyd away from my grandmother, but that’s OK because my grandfather was awesome and lovely and I wouldn’t want anybody but him as my grandfather.  Also, that whole last part about my version is a complete fabrication.  But it COULD be true.  What?  You weren’t there.  How would you know?

What am I going on about?

JEFF BRIDGES.

The other night my husband and I went to go see Crazy Heart, featuring my could have been biological father Jeff Bridges.  We’d heard nothing but good things about it, and as it was February 13th, the anniversary of the day we got engaged, WHOOHOO.  Big date night out.  Except that Crazy Heart was sold out.  So we saw Valentine’s Day, which was silly but cute and predictable but cute, plus we ran into our friends who we don’t get to see often enough and made plans to spend Monday (that would be yesterday for those of you following along at home) together with the kids and some other girls and much hilarity ensued.

What am I going on about?

JEFF BRIDGES.

He’s seriously underappreciated.  The dude abides, people!  The dude abides! 

So TWGH and I have decided that we’re going to watch all of Jeff Bridges’ movies.  ALL of them.  All. 

Keep you posted.