After Amanda Gorman burst on the world’s stage a week ago, I fully expected to be sitting here right now attempting to wax poetic and verbally swooning over the 22-year-old youth poet laureate phenom and her captivating and inspiring (understatement) performance at the Inauguration last week.
And I will, but I need to talk about something else first.
Noodles.
Specifically, Xi’an Famous Foods and their hand-ripped noodles.
Let’s file this entry this entry under “What I’m Watching-Doing-Cooking-Eating.” 🤷♀️
I recently saw this segment on CBS This Morning Saturday:
It was so fun to watch that I immediately looked the restaurant and its owner up online. And there they were, the magic words:
NOW SHIPPING MEAL KITS
!!!!
Within five minutes of the segment ending, Hot Oil-Seared Hand-Ripped Noodles (serves 4) were ordered for delivery that Wednesday.
And then, maybe five minutes after that, Kerri came downstairs and casually mentioned she was going low-carb.
Oof.
So after a few days of going back and forth with worry about my meal kit (because that’s what I do, go back and forth with worry, and almost exclusively about things that really don’t matter) I invited my sis and bro-in-law for a Friday Night Participation Dinner. Good sports that they are, they accepted.
If you watched the video above, you know what it’s all about. If you didn’t, the summary version is this: you take eight rectangles of dough and stretch them, slap them on the counter, separate them like a giant piece of string cheese, and boil them. Throw in some veggies, spices, special sauce, and hot oil, and you’ve got yourself a sizzling bowl of oh-my-God. (I supplemented with ground chicken and roasted broccoli because a) what if the noodles were a fiasco? and b) Kerri had to eat something. And those were great choices to both add some protein and balance out the meal if I do say so myself.)
So fun, and so delicious. Best $38 I’ve spent this pandemic.
What I’m Obsessing About: Amanda Gorman
Come on…a week later, and the magnitude of her Amanda-ness has not remotely begun to sink in. I mean, it would have been so easy to have been transfixed by the red headband; the yellow coat; the giant eyes; the open, earnest, happy face; the hands (those hands!); or the ring (from Oprah!) and barely be attuned to what she was actually saying. I sat on the couch, leaned forward, ears wide open and—Bam!—soul smacked by the words she spoke early on, “we’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace…” The more she read the harder it became for me to breathe, my eyes welled up, and I was hearing but it was just so much to process all at once…Hamilton and the vine and the fig tree…I…just…can’t…
When she finished, I sat…still, breathless, tears, in completely stunned silence. The power, the polish, the poise…the confidence, the promise, the hope. Sigh.
Amanda Gorman isn’t “us” or “them” or “Democrats” or “Republicans” or “Conservatives” or “Liberals.” She is America. We are America.
I’ve revisited the poem several times (dozens?) in the last week, read more of her back story, watched and read many interviews, and her talent speaks for itself, screams really. But the fact that she has it or that she works so hard to overcome a speech impediment is almost impossible to fathom or “appreciate,” and a look back at this 2018 interview with her is all you need to be completely blown away, if you weren’t already.
At this point I’m not really sure what else to say about this/her, but I am going to continue to listen and read and reflect in the hope that eventually I’ll figure out what exactly I’m supposed to do with the words that make up The Hill We Climb. I do know for certain but in a most unspecific way that this poem is an investment in today, tomorrow, and the future of our nation. Beyond that, I need to figure out what it all means for me. The poem challenges us all in so many ways, especially to find where we fit, to own that place, and to make it better. I’m up for it.
Geez…thinking and writing about that was…heavy.
Quick break to take a few deep breaths before I transition to the lighter stuff that rounds out what I’ve been up to since late December:
innnnnnnn….ouuuuuuuuuuuut
innnnnnnn….ouuuuuuuuuuuut
innnnnnnn….ouuuuuuuuuuuut
Ahhhhhh.
But first one more thing about the Inauguration—seeing Kamala Harris and Sonia Sotomayor and Amanda Gorman and Lady Gaga and J Lo and Amy Klobuchar featured so prominently was such a show of “girl power,” such a rainbow of hope, a message of strength—women can do anything, can be anything.
And now back to regularly scheduled programming.
What I’m Doing for “Fun” lately (pandemic) is trying to get my mom a vaccine appointment in FL. I had an easier time getting tickets to see Madonna in concert in 1990 (Blond Ambition tour, Worcester Centrum) than I’ve had getting her inoculated against COVID. Turns out that old people who constantly require tech support for the most basic of electronics issues are pretty good both at navigating Eventbrite and getting in front of me in the Publix pharmacy online queue at the crack of 6am. Seriously. It’s brutal.
What I’m Playing these days, and what we enjoyed a few rollicking rounds of after finishing up the noodle dinner the other night, is a game called Rummikub, a 2-4 person tile game based on the premise of the card game Rummy. If you like games AND Rummy (and things that aren’t expensive, $10.49 from that evil beast Amazon currently), I highly recommend it. (Plus all the cool kids play…I mean, I saw John Legend playing on NYE in an Insta post, so if you don’t trust me, trust a Legend.)
What I’m watching lately isn’t too much to write home about, mainly because my weekly programs are on winter break and bingeing is out because I simply don’t have the focus to get to know new people or plot lines. At this point I aspire to have the attention span of a goldfish.
Anyhow:
The documentary “76 Days” was free on Saturday, one year after the lockdown in Wuhan began, so we watched that Saturday night. It was subtitled, which took a lot of emotion out of the experience (a good thing IMO), but seeing the inside of a hospital in Wuhan for the 76 days of the lockdown cemented the reality and the gravity and the sheer tragedy of this scourge…and also left me grateful for the health of those I love, praying that it continues, and knowing there are no guarantees. Scary times.
Football. Tom Brady is going to another Super Bowl, with a new team (that was under .500 last year). Say what you want, but the dude deserves it. He works his ass off. I mean, he was drafted so low (#199) that he’ll never be featured in a commercial for an NFL draft but he has six rings and a chance for another. At 43. In his home stadium. It’s nuts. Gotta give mad props to someone who starts here:
And stands here now:
I know people don’t like him. Even after he won Sunday I heard the comments…too many interceptions…did everything he could to lose the game (well, except lose it)…etc., etc. A win is a win, and as my old (awful) college basketball coach used to say “if ifs and buts were fruits and nuts then every day would be Christmas.” Which is kind of a stupid expression, especially so when used to motivate a bunch of 18-22 year old college students, but…anyway, the GOAT’s going to the Super Bowl. Again. And I’m rooting for him. I admit to having some philosophical differences with him (like “why didn’t you shake Nick Foles’ hand (twice), Tom?,”) but I’ve come around. Whatever ego he has, he’s earned. Gotta respect that level of discipline and commitment. And if he left New England to prove that Bill wasn’t The (Only) Genius, uh, touché. Well-played, Tommy boy. Well-played.
Football commercials. This one made me laugh Sunday. And the fact that he’s friends with Martha Stewart makes it that much funnier to me. Hope it makes you smile too.
Hank Aaron’s 715th home run. RIP to one of the greatest players out there, the old-school kind who succeeded on muscle and grit and determination and not on inflated ego, ginormous salary, and HGH (or whatever else). I was watching some coverage after he died and let out an audible gasp upon hearing this announced after he cracked 715: “What a marvelous moment for the country and the world, a black man is getting a standing ovation in the deep South…” This was in 1974. Progress? Equality? I think I’ll just leave this here and you can do whatever you want with it.
Jeopardy! with guest host Ken Jennings. It never has been a real love connection for me and Ken so I was a skeptic from the get. That said, I think he’s doing a good job—and it gets me every time when he ends the show with “Thank you, Alex.”
What I’m Not Reading is “Why We’re Polarized,” because I finally finished it—glad that I stuck with it. All of the theory around why we are polarized is really interesting and definitely helped me understand things differently, even if the book itself was bit of a slog for me. The whole time I kept hoping that Ezra Klein was planning to talk a about how we unpolarize. Which *finally* happened on page 261, a few pages before the story ends. As it turns out, three of my guiding principles, namely:
1) general mindfulness/reflection,
2) focusing on my own sphere of influence and control, and
3) trying to make every day better than the last
are also useful tools to help close this gap. I have a lot of work still to do but together we will close it. We’ll find a time and place for politics, we’ll work on rebuilding relationships, we’ll commit to looking forward…and we will make a difference.
What I’m Reading. Since my goal was to get through “Why We’re Polarized” before digging into anything new, the update is simple: I added “Your True Home” by Thich Nhat Han to my morning reading ritual for a Buddhist accompaniment to “The Daily Stoic.” I’m trying hard to stay focused and keep things in perspective and be kind to myself (while cracking the whip to stay motivated), and every little bit helps. For pleasure reading I’m about 1/4 of the way into “The Answer Is…Reflections on My Life” by Alex Trebek. It’s an easy read, a random-ish compilation of snippets, many of them interesting—it’s been fun learning about someone I (didn’t) “know” (at all). My TBR list is long, but I’m hoping to throw several new titles into the mix before the next time I report out on a Wednesday. Fingers crossed. Let’s face it, if I can barely watch TV because of some attention-span challenges, I need to really double down on my focus here.
What I’m Listening To. Music always has been, and continues to be, balm for my brain and salve for my soul. Some songs that click for me come up randomly on a playlist, others I seek out in a (desperate)(and necessary) attempt to transport myself to another place and time, and they almost always do for me whatever it is I need them to. Just give me music!
Anyway, in no particular order, here are some of the songs that delivered what I was looking for over the last month (and if you don’t mind, please LMK if the links to the songs are useful or annoying by replying to this email (if that’s how you get this) or by dropping a comment below, and you can also do the same if you want to recommend any tunes or books or shows or whatevs):
A Long December (and November and October and September and August and and and and and and…) by Counting Crows. This is one I like to listen to in January, most years just because “maybe this year will be better than the last” and this year because we really need it to be. That’s all.
Angel From Montgomery, John Prine. Sigh. In it he sings what I believe is a rhetorical question, “How the hell can a person go to work in the mornin’, come home in the evenin’ and have nothing to say?” But I think all of us stuck working at home now know the answer to this question—you can quite easily have nothing to say when you come home from work…when going to work means walking upstairs. Good reminder to be attentive and attuned to the stress that relationships are under these days, even if we don’t see it and/or feel it.
Rhymes and Reasons, John Denver (voice of an angel). Prescient, priceless lyrics punctuated with pain—“Though the cities start to crumble and the towers fall around us, the sun is slowly fading and it's colder than the sea.” And hope—“And the song that I am singing is a prayer to non believers, come and stand beside us, we can find a better way” The country boy does it again.
Check Your Phone, Cheap Cuts featuring Pete Wentz (of Fall Out Boy and formerly of Ashlee Simpson), which would be funny if it were tongue-in-cheek but instead it’s just plain sad. I can only speak for myself, but I suspect we all need to engage and be present more. Maybe this pandemic and all the screen time, all the alone time, will be what ultimately frees us from our devices when we ease back into the real 360° world. But knowing us, probably not.
Hamilton soundtrack, original Broadway cast recording. Amazing how in the span of 24 hours the listening experience can change. So. Dramatically. One day it brings tears of despair, the next tears of joy…but for the same reason, because it’s all (frighteningly and excitingly) relevant. Speaking of prescience, right?
As I was reading this through before posting (which I always do at the last minute and never with enough time to proofread it all that well) I saw these last two songs and even though I’m the one who is listening to them and who wrote about it here, it kind of stopped me in my tracks. And I suppose I could have deleted one or edited something or reordered them or whatever, but you know what? No apologies. This is the order of events that came naturally to me, so I’m leaving as is…if you can’t be honest about what you’re listening to, can you be trusted at all? That said, if you can make sense of any of this, LMK by replying to the email (if that’s how you get this) or by dropping a comment below. Anyway, the last two songs this month are:
Skating Away (On the Thin Ice of a New Day), Jethro Tull. I think the title itself makes it obvious why I find it relevant of late, but “do you ever get the feeling that the story’s too damn real and in the present tense?” Uh, only like 86,400 seconds a day. Roughly.
Danny’s Song, Anne Murray. Because the truth is some days I just need to time travel to a living room full of unconditional love in the house on Bengal Road, an Anne Murray album playing, my sisters and I crowded on the couch, my parents dancing. That’s the calm comfort I need…my mind is still…and from that stillness, quiet…and from that quiet, peace. So yes, Amanda Gorman, we have learned that quiet doesn’t always mean peace. But sometimes it does.
Thank you for being here.
Peace.
I pre-ordered Amanda’s book right after I heard her💕
This song comes closest to helping me with the feelings piece...https://open.spotify.com/track/28m84EzeAOlqrJQ3GHzs8C