Tuesday, September 21, 2010

The Son From America. (a poem)

Oh, to be content!
To have all in the world that you need
and to want for nothing more.

How I envy the simple people
who are only simple to those of us who
are trying desperately to justify
our dissatisfaction with life,
with ourselves.

To those of us to whom a destination,
or a car,
or a house,
once acquired
know that certainly, everything will be
alright then.
But who will be so Disappointed,
No,
Distraught
when we find that with the destination
or the car,
or the house,
now acquired
not only doesn't provide the bliss we were
Hoping,
No,
Praying for,
but leaves us with an undefined
Emptiness.
that we can no more fill than the Grand Canyon.
And, so, spinning into confusion,
we redefine.

Altruism, Charity
Certainly this must be the key.
Give back to the little people, the simple people.
for we know that, certainly, everything will be
alright once we do.
But we are so Distraught,
No,
Devastated
when we find that after the altruism, the charity,
not only don't we find the fulfillment we were Looking,
No,
Searching for,
but we are left with only

Ourselves

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Fish are Friends

Dia has decided to become a vegetarian. I think her recent viewings of Finding Nemo, Happy Feet and her realization that turkey-food was once a turkey-bird made significant impressions on her. So she announced to me she no longer wants to eat meat because she doesn't want to hurt animals, much less eat them.

Honestly, this isn't that big of a leap in our household. We aren't all that carnivorous to begin with, though I do like to prepare nice dinners (even if it will just be Dia and me sitting down together) and that occasionally includes chicken, turkey or fish.

I do my grocery shopping after making out menus for the week. I always try to incorporate recipes that include ingredients I already have on hand. It keeps the ol' grocery bill down and also prevents me from tossing food that's gone bad (which always makes me feel guilty). This week one of the menu items was Sesame-Crusted Red Snapper, curry couscous and a spicy vegetable salad. I had just about everything on hand thanks to my garden and my incredible spice cabinet, so it seemed a no-brainer. I just needed the Red Snapper.

I was in no way disrespecting my child's decision. I just knew my mom and I would enjoy a nice fish dinner and, anyway, I often fix Dia different dinner entrees from the rest of the family (we very much like spicy foods) so I really didn't think anything of it.

My judgment there failed me.

It was at the meat counter that Dia launched her protest. I asked the butcher for a fillet of Red Snapper and he was kindly choosing the right size fillet for me. This really didn't take any time at all, but it was time enough for Dia to exit with the cart. "Fish are friends, NOT food!" she yelled, running off with the cart that she is still too short to steer.

I asked her to come on back, honey, this is for Grandma and me, not you... but that didn't sway her. On she went careening directly toward an end kiosk. Thanks to my wicked fast sprinting ability I caught Dia and the cart just in time. It hit, but not hard. Whew.

At this point I was calmly explaining to her that she couldn't run off with the cart and, more importantly, she couldn't run it into people or things. To the untrained ear, I'm sure it sounded like a mild suggestion rather than a determination (you have to really know Dia to get why this is necessary). In response, Dia stamped her foot and said "If you eat fish then I WILL run it into people and I WILL run it into things." An elderly gentleman nearby made a very concerned face and immediately redirected his path to give her a wide berth. If I could have broken character, so to speak, I would have assured him of his safety, but I didn't have that option just then.

I still had my hand on the cart's handle when the sweetheart of a butcher came behind his counter and walked down the aisle to bring me the Red Snapper, now all wrapped up and in a bag and looking very innocuous.

At that point, the moment had passed for Dia and the protest was over. We continued our regular shopping, entering an aisle where we happened upon that elderly gentleman again. He made the same face as before as he exited that aisle prematurely. A few minutes later we were in the soup aisle and here he comes again. We made eye contact just long enough for him to turn tail and almost run away. Honestly, he was never in any danger, but I kind of understand. Shin bruises don't heal for weeks and weeks on me and I'm only 46. He probably just didn't want to take the chance.

Later that evening, as I was fixing dinner and deciding between a couple of vegetarian options Dia said "Mom, I want a burger tonight. I'm just going to be a vegetarian during the daytime."

I guess it's all about moderation.

kec