A Modest Proposal

How to address Flushing’s malodorous sidewalk mines

When I first moved to New York in February, I was prepared for many aspects of big-city life: higher cost of living, the tremendous quantity of people everywhere you go, and the ubiquitous availability of public transit.  There were a few items, however, that nobody mentioned:  the way New Yorkers never touch handrails on escalators (for good reason!), the profound difference between living in Manhattan and out in “the boroughs,” and the stench of rancid curry trash in the summer sun.

The last of those is hard to describe, and really must be smelled for oneself.  Unlike much of the country, New  Yorkers do not put their garbage into bins or receptacles on trash pick-up day; they leave it in loose bags on the edge of the sidewalk.  Where I live, in Flushing, there is an abundance of Indian cuisine, and consequently many of those black plastic monstrosities are full of curry.

Now, I love curry, but when it has been left out in the sun, it begins to smell, then stink, then present the olfactory equivalent of first-degree assault.  Worse, the trash trucks compress the garbage as they pick it up, and from the sides of those mobile stench-machines flows a steady stream of foul-smelling, green-colored liquid that renders Flushing in need of, well, a flushing.  I apologize for that pun.

In a way, the addition of new, different stinks has the effect of at least varying to some degree the rancid air of the town.  However, the purpose of this proposal is to address a secondary, and most unwelcome, ubiquitous presence on our city streets: dog poop.

It is not a unique feature of New York that so many dog owners simply refuse to pick up after their pets.  In Lexington, I remember a particular zone in our subdivision affectionately-termed “poop island,” since there was a general consensus that this was the place for lazy people to allow their dogs to defecate without incurring the penalty of bending-the-hell-over to clean it up.

But, as they are in many things, New Yorkers are especially audacious.  Large, stinking mounds of dog crap are frequently left in the middle of sidewalks, on jogging trails, and even in crosswalks.    What is especially baffling about this is that Flushing is typically full of people, meaning these owners presumably leave their dog droppings in full sight of onlookers.  The role of social shame has been marginalized to the point of ineffectiveness.

After considerable thought, I believe a common-sense solution to this acute problem is simple, and involves snipers.  Imagine, if you will, a few strategically-placed gunmen on roofs overlooking Kissena park, the residential neighborhoods, and other points of interest in the city.  New York is singularly well-suited for this approach, because of the abundance of tall buildings.

Floating this idea by a few of my friends, one of the surprisingly-few objections I have heard is a general reluctance to kill people for doing something irritating.  Without getting into the distinction between the mild word “irritating” and the more appropriate term “sociopathic,” I would respond that a high body count is not necessary.  It really will only take a handful of casualties before word gets around, and I would imagine the prospect of life-threatening injury might have a more immediate and quantifiable effect than a “fine of up to $100,” which is seldom enforced.

Unfortunately, given the political climate of today’s New York City Council, I doubt they could implement even this common-sense reform to protect our citizens.  However, I find that visualizing this enforcement mechanism is an effective mental exercise, especially when scraping nasty dog crap off one’s jogging shoes.

~Andrew

 

Published in: on July 10, 2013 at 10:31 am  Leave a Comment  
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Refusing to Double Down

Railing against quantity-based incentives in the food service industry

With the exception of a piece about a unique vegan restaurant run by a friend of mine, I don’t tend to write about food.  This is for what I believe is a very good reason: food narratives are boring.  While eating forms a pervasive and often crucial part of our individual lives, anyone having spent countless recreational minutes reviewing photos on their Facebook wall can tell you that our interest level in what other people are eating is, at best, moderate to low.

With that disclaimer/apology out of the way…let me tell you about my lunch today.

By way of background, I am attempting to eat healthier things, in an abstract, non-specific way.  I do not struggle with my weight per se, but have issues with its distribution.  My broad chest has an irritating habit of migrating southward, stopping just about my midsection.  I blame gravity, though cheeseburgers are alleged to have played a role.

To combat this unfortunate migration of mass, I am making a token effort to eat healthier things.  With encouragement from my wife, this includes juicing, which I have on strong authority is now a verb, and keeping healthier foodstuffs in the kitchen.

Since much of New York life involves eating on the run, I am also making a concerted effort to make healthier choices for my lunches.  This involved, at my last job, frequenting a fairly terrific salad spot, though for some reason the green stuff is absurdly expensive.  In the more limited surrounds of Bayside, where my current office is located, the healthy choice often comes down to that perennial low-cost, low-fat alternative, Subway.

Now, I like Subway.  Something about fresh veggies and bread helps me forget about tasty, medium rare patties of deliciousness, covered in cheese.  I often eat there for breakfast, as a flat-bread egg sandwich with a coffee is available for three bucks.  Today, however, I decided to go for lunch, resolved to try something new and under a million calories; when setting goals, the key is to keep them manageable.  My only beef (pun not intended) with East Coast Subway restaurants is the green slime they attempt to pass off as avocados.  Having spent eight years in California, I know avocados, I cooked with avocados, avocados were a friend of mine, and Subway’s green goop is no avocado.

For today’s meal, I settled on an eggplant Parmesan sandwich, which is at least reasonably healthy, provided I skip the white fat-paste in a bottle that tastes so, so delicious.   The problem that led to this erstwhile blog entry arose when I first asked for a six-inch sandwich.

“You know that’s four dollars, and for five you can get a footlong?”  the Sandwich Artist Mo asked me, grabbing a full twelve-inch loaf.

“Can I just have six inches for two-fifty?  Or how about three dollars?” I asked, answered only with a sad, slow head shake.  I assume his detached demeanor was because he is an artist.

Now, I had a difficult decision to make.  I like money, and I do not like wasting it; perhaps we can all agree on the merit of my position in this regard.  However, lunch is a decision based not on dollars alone, but on nutritional content, and a twelve-inch sub sandwich is significantly worse than its six-inch cousin in terms of calories.  One might even infer that it is twice as bad.

So I took a deep breath, swallowed, and went with my gut, over-paying for a six-inch sandwich.

I think it’s terrible for a restaurant chain that at least pays lip service to healthy options to create such a dramatic price incentive for super-sizing one’s entree.  It takes quite enough effort to make healthy choices when eating out without contrived economic penalties for making good nutritional choices.

It would be immensely gratifying to write that I won’t be back to Subway, or at least to THAT Subway, but the reality is that there are woefully few healthier options in the neighborhood, and chances are good that I’ll be back before the week is out.  To paraphrase my favorite Indiana Jones movie, that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

So, thanks for bearing with me on an ill-fated journey through my bygone lunch break, and I’ll try to keep it more interesting next go-round.

~Andrew

Published in: on July 8, 2013 at 11:49 am  Leave a Comment  
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Slower developing, but Irving on Top of His Game

A brief review of one of my favorite authors, John Irving.  

It has been awhile since I have heard from John Irving.  The author best known for Cider  House Rules and A Prayer for Owen Meany used to be fairly prolific, releasing an average of one book a year in the late 90’s.  Since that time, his production has slowed to a crawl, and for a few years I was concerned that he might have stopped writing altogether.

Fortunately, after a four-year hiatus Irving began releasing novels again with 2005’s “Until I Find You,” a remarkably well-told story full of familiar Irving subject matter: wrestling, lost parents, abuse, and the fallibility of memory.  It took another four years, but Last Night in Twisted River was worth the wait.  It represents a departure from Irving’s more familiar themes, and its humor and self-awareness propel the novel to among Irving’s best.

The novel begins set in a logging camp, in the first half of the twentieth century.  The story is focused on the cook and his son, Danny, living in the extremely isolated and undeveloped town of Twisted River.  The novel begins by presenting a trilogy of tragedies:  the drowning of a young boy on the river, the remembrance of a similar drowning of Danny’s mother, and the accidental killing of the cook’s love interest, who Danny mistakes for a bear.  This latter event leads to their departure from Twisted River, and a life of hiding from an obsessed former police officer (called “the Cowboy”) who suspects them of the killing.

During the next several decades, the cook and Danny move to Boston, and then to Canada, in an attempt to stay ahead of the Cowboy.  Their only tie to Twisted River is an old logger named Ketchum, a friend who stays in close contact with them over the years.  Danny grows up to be a writer, and several of his novels are described in ways clearly designed to invoke Irving’s own work.  As with many of his novels, there is an autobiographical quality that shines through, only this time, he does not try to conceal it through fiction.

Ultimately, the Cowboy catches up to the cook, and kills him.  Danny comes to the cook’s rescue and kills the Cowboy, but is too late to save his father.  He continues writing despite the tragedies in his life, and his final novel ends up being an account of his escape from Twisted River, with its beginning mimicking the first chapters of this book.

Irving has always been a strong developer of characters, and while his plots tend to strain credulity, they are entertaining and often humorous.  With the exception of his latest release, 2012’s In One Person, I have read all of his novel-length work, and in my opinion, Last Night in Twisted River is his best.  While its characters are not as memorable as Owen Meany, and its political themes do not rival Cider House Rules, this novel represents a strength and cohesion of writing that is a level above Irving’s earlier works.  I strongly recommend it, and am pleased that this author has kept sharpening his skills.  I look forward to reading him again soon.

~Andrew

Published in: on July 5, 2013 at 9:31 pm  Leave a Comment  
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A Time to Fight

Why is nobody talking about preemptive war in Korea?

I support peace, and generally oppose war.

Of course, it is highly popular to express after-the-fact opposition to the Iraq war, but I have some bona fides: I organized and led a class boycott at the University of Kentucky when we first invaded.  I even opposed the Afghanistan war, a position I later realized was an error, as we are better off for our decision to dismantle the Taliban.

I start with that bit of “about-the-author” background because it colors my views on the emergent conflict in the Koreas.  The Iraq conflict in particular provides us with an interesting context for evaluating Korea.

We were told, falsely, that Saddam Hussein was developing weapons of mass destruction.  It was further posited that we could not allow a brutal, unstable tyrant to possess nuclear weapons.

Kim Jong Un, the young ruler of North Korea, comes from a line of tyrants.  However malleable the term “brutal, unstable tyrant” may be, suffice it to say he falls within most rational definitions.  He has nuclear weapons, and has defiantly tested them.

We were told, falsely, that Iraq posed a threat to its neighbors, and that it had ambitions to attack other nations in its region.

North Korea, by contrast, has threatened repeatedly to use its nuclear arsenal on its neighbors, Japan, and the United States.  It currently lacks the delivery mechanism to bring nuclear weapons to our shores, but it is working on them; it recently launched a satellite into orbit.

We were also told, accurately as it turns out, that Hussein’s regime was committing human rights abuses against its own people, and that moral considerations militated (no pun intended) for intervention.

The human rights abuses in North Korea make Hussein’s Iraq seem downright pleasant.  It is an entirely closed society, with pervasive censorship, authoritarianism, and a populace kept starving while the military ranks among the largest in the world.

Based on the now-discredited “case against Iraq” from the Bush years, it appears that North Korea checks all the boxes.  North Korea is everything we falsely claimed Iraq was prior to invading.

The recent escalation in both rhetoric and action is incredibly unnerving.  We are dealing with a brutal dictator, oppressing his people beyond the bounds of human rights, and openly threatening to attack America and its neighbors with both conventional weapons, and the nuclear weapons we are absolutely sure he possesses.

The response of America, and the world, to North Korea baffles me.  What outcome do we expect?  It is a matter of time before either the dictator is overthrown- unlikely given the imbalance of power and lack of communication with the outside world- or Kim Jong Un acquires the means to bring a nuclear attack to our shores.  Alternatively, he could sell his nuclear arsenal to “interested third parties,” such as Iran or international terrorist groups.

I believe it is time for a more robust debate about whether military intervention is appropriate in Korea, and if so, how to go about it in a way that will minimize casualties, and the risk of the regime using its nuclear arsenal.  I make that assertion reluctantly, but confidently.  For all the reasons intervention in Iraq was a mistake, intervention in Korea may be appropriate, and ultimately necessary, to prevent terrible consequences in the near future.

As far as I can tell, this debate is not yet taking place, on either side of the political aisle.

~Andrew

Published in: on April 1, 2013 at 6:51 pm  Leave a Comment  
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National Registry of Mental Illness Holds No Answers

Over the past two months, I have been working with my friend Anne Rosenberg to address the proposed “national registry of persons with mental illnesses” proposed by the National Rifle Association.  Our completed article is below. 

–Anne Rosenberg is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker who specializes in working with children, adolescent and adult survivors of trauma.  She has experience working in outpatient mental health clinics and with adults struggling with chronic mental illness.  Anne currently works in a New York City outpatient mental health clinic for clients diagnosed with both a mental health disorder as well as intellectual and/or developmental disabilities

By Anne Rosenberg and Andrew Grossman

In American politics, it often takes a tragedy to prompt preventative action.  This was true after the attempted Reagan assassination (see the Brady Bill), after the financial collapse (see Dodd-Frank), and by all indications, it will be true after last month’s shootings at Sandy Hook Elementary School.  There is broad general consensus that something needs to be done in the wake of our most recent tragedy; the debate is focused on what actions are appropriate.

In an attempt to deflect efforts to pass gun control legislation, the National Rifle Association and other conservative groups have taken aim at persons with mental illnesses.  The most dramatic of these proposals is to create a national registry of people with diagnosed mental illness.  This registry, proponents claim, would help enforce existing restrictions on firearm purchases by those deemed “mentally defective” (thank you, Illinois legislature, for your compassionate terminology), and will thus reduce the risk of gun violence.

In this article, we discuss several reasons we believe the NRA’s proposal is unwarranted, and would harm efforts to treat and interdict potentially dangerous mental disorders.  In addition, we explain that a constructive approach must focus on accessibility, education, and early treatment of those with mental disorders, in order to  lessen the likelihood of a recurrence of Sandy Hook.

The National Rifle Association’s proposal to establish a national list of persons with mental disorders is overbroad, and would result in government monitoring of a large portion of the US population.  

The approach proposed by NRA Executive Vice-President Wayne LaPierre is consistent with the NRA’s long-held mantra that the responsibility for gun violence lies not with the weapon, but with its wielder.  To an extent, they have a point; federal and state laws already prohibit gun purchases by convicted criminals, those adjudicated to be a danger to themselves or others, and children.  That said, their broad-stroke proposal to have the government register all individuals diagnosed with mental illnesses is misguided and offensive enough to make mental health professionals cringe.

One of the first threshold concerns this raises is what group, exactly, is the NRA’s intended target.  The term “mental disorder” is incredibly broad.  Mental Health Professionals use a system known as the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders- currently the Fourth Edition with Text Revisions. The DSM-IV-TR covers everything related to mental health, including Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities; Learning Disorders; Developmental Coordination Disorder; Communication Disorders; Attention Deficit/ Hyperactivity Disorder; Oppositional Defiant Disorder; Feeding and Eating Disorders; Dementia; Alcohol Dependence and other Substance Related Disorders; Schizophrenia and other Psychotic Disorders; Depression; Anxiety; Post Traumatic Stress; Pain Disorder; Insomnia and other Sleep Disorders; Gender Identity; Kleptomania; Adjustment Disorders; Personality Disorders; and Erectile Dysfunction, to name a few.

Which of these diagnoses is dangerous? Who needs to be monitored?

What about someone with insomnia? What about the CEO of a major corporation who is unable to get an erection because his job is stressful? No diagnosis represents a threat in and of itself.  It is the combination of a diagnosis that leaves the individual vulnerable, and the complex family and environmental factors that contribute to a situation where there is a higher risk of violence for that individual. It is not the mental illness that creates violence; mental illness leaves that individual vulnerable, with possibly unpredictable reactions to high-stress situations. Rather than keeping a list of everyone with a mental illness, investing in quality care and available resources for those who are vulnerable would be much more effective.

Of all the above diagnoses indicated, the one most positively correlated with acts of violence is substance abuse- drinking and using drugs. With this, it would be more effective to establish a list of people who consume and abuse drugs and alcohol, but we suspect no one would feel comfortable with the government monitoring our drinking habits.  However, the same right to privacy from government intrusion that renders such monitoring unappetizing applies to the mentally ill.

In the Newton Connecticut shootings, the shooter, Adam Lanza, was not, as far as we know, diagnosed with Schizophrenia or any other mental illness.  While initial reports suggested that he may have been diagnosed with Asperger’s Disorder, that disorder is not typically associated with violent tendencies.  More recent reports cast doubt on whether Mr. Lanza was diagnosed with any mental illness at all.  It is more likely that he suffered from an undiagnosed condition; the events of that terrible day are a clear indication that he was not mentally well-adjusted.  However, suffering from a mental disorder- even an undiagnosed one- is not a good predictor of violent tendencies.

In fact, over one quarter of all American adults are estimated to have a mental disorder in any given year.  These can range from anxiety disorders to acute depression or schizophrenia.  While this number may seem staggeringly high, most mental disorders can be managed or treated, and patients can continue to live healthy, productive lives.

Creating a national database of persons diagnosed with mental disorders could discourage people from seeking treatment, exacerbating the problem.  

In order to manage or recover, however, the patient must first seek treatment.  One of the toughest challenges faced by health service providers is the reluctance of many to speak to a psychiatrist, psychologist, social workers, or other mental health professional about their symptoms and challenges.

The reasons for this reluctance to seek treatment are complex, and it is perilous to generalize for a population that includes tens of millions of us.  However, the societal stigma placed on mental illness is certainly a factor in a large percentage of cases in which the mentally ill do not seek treatment.  This stigma will only be exacerbated if the government begins requiring individuals diagnosed with mental illness to participate in a national registry.
Mental health diagnosis is not an exact science.  Unlike diseases which can be cultured and confirmed, mental health treatment and management decisions are typically made by using the DSM-IV-TR system to classify symptoms and make differential diagnoses based on symptom clusters.  While not all mental health disorders can be cured, the vast majority can be managed and treated with both pharmacological and therapy-based approaches.

By setting up a system in which a loss of rights and loss of privacy results from a mental health disorder diagnosis, the government would be creating a substantial disincentive for people to seek treatment.  Ironically, the most dangerous subset of those suffering from mental disorders- those who do not seek treatment- would be the only group excluded from the list.

Moreover, the significance of registration on this national database has not been fully thought-through.  Would new laws aim to deprive any person with a diagnosed mental illness from gun ownership?  While this may seem sensible for persons with severe, dangerous disorders, it is an inappropriately broad restriction for the vast majority of those whose mental illnesses present without any tendency or proclivity towards violent behavior.  It is also inconsistent with the 2nd Amendment rights so loudly trumpeted by some of its proponents.

While the intention may be simply to change the topic from gun control to mental illness, this proposal smacks of scapegoating a vulnerable population.  While the mentally ill have advocates looking out for their interests, they are nowhere near as well-organized and well-funded as the pro-gun lobby.  This makes them an easier target than proposals to regulate gun violence through the regulation of firearms.

The best way to prevent violence by those suffering from mental illness is to increase access to care, reduce patient costs, and reinforce the resources available to patients.

We do support a spotlight being placed on mental health services, not because those with mental health issues are a threat, but because we are creating a system where mental health services are difficult to get and high quality care can only be obtained by the wealthy. We all know about the recent and impending cuts to Medicaid and Medicare, and one of the primary consequences is that mental health services are becoming grossly more expensive and less-widely available.

Two years ago, New York’s Office of Mental Health underwent a huge Medicaid reimbursement restructuring for its mental health clinics.  This resulted, among many other changes, in clinics being reimbursed less for the same services. Since then numerous clinics have closed due to lack of financial viability, and those that remain open have long waiting lists, particularly those serving children. Most of the workforce is now made up of what are known as “fee-for-service” contractors, who are paid $18-35 average per clinical session. In this situation, they are typically paid only to do their 30-45 minute clinical hour. Not for paperwork, not for outreach, not for supervision or consultation with more experienced workers. This austere system replaces one in which full time staff members were provided with salary, benefits, and one hour of supervision a week- ideally with a more experienced clinician.

Because there is less money coming in, the fee-for-service workers are needed to make the clinic cost-efficient, and the full time staff are expected to carry draining caseloads of 35-60+ clients a week in order to justify their salaries. Because of this, good clinicians burn out, change jobs frequently, or leave for private practice as soon as they are ready, so they can make significantly more money with a smaller caseload. This means that clinics are ill-equipped to handle the demands of the population, and people fall through the cracks. This is not to say that there isn’t excellent care being provided in these clinics- some clinics go above and beyond to provide the best care for their clients- but this is at the expense of very dedicated workers. This also creates situations in which someone receiving services at an outpatient mental health clinic for a total of 3 years may have as many as 4-5 therapists. There isn’t the ability to provided consistent, comprehensive care when clinics are struggling to keep the doors open and lights on.  After the 2nd or 3rd therapist leaves, many clients say “why bother.”

We are hopeful that instead of imposing an unhelpful system of monitoring useless information that stigmatizes and inhibits people from seeking services, the policy changes to come from the Connecticut shooting will be to provide better funding for and more access to mental health services. This way, people are able to locate local clinics and obtain services with better quality care.

We need to encourage, rather than discourage, individuals in need of mental health treatment to seek help.  Setting up a national registry of the mentally ill would cast too wide a net, and give people an additional reason to put off seeking treatment.  Crimes of this magnitude appropriately focus our attention on the risks of letting mental illness remain undiagnosed and untreated, and of presenting  those with dangerous, untreated illnesses with the opportunity to cause spectacular harm.  The best response will encourage diagnosis, treatment, and management of mental illness, without making a large part of the US population yet another victim of the Sandy Hook tragedy.

We are not expressing an opinion in favor of gun control legislation in this article.  While there is a general assumption that something must be done to avert future school violence of this magnitude, any either/or discussion is misplaced, and each proposal should be scrutinized on its own merits, not in contrast to other competing proposals on unrelated topics.  Over the coming months, gun control will certainly be debated and discussed, and so will our treatment of the mentally ill.  It is our sincere hope that the focus remain on making treatment available, affordable, and free from unnecessary stigma.

~Anne and Andrew

Published in: on February 22, 2013 at 6:19 pm  Leave a Comment  

Un-Doctored Strangefood

24 Carrots, Sadhana Raj, vegan, juice bar, Chandler, Phoenix

Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Beet

Over the course of the last ten days, I have been making the final step in my relocation to New York.  This involved a six-city, 3,600-mile drive across the country, stopping at various ports of call to visit relatives, friends, and rest stops.

When I sat down to plan the details of this trip, I realized that my intended route would pass through Phoenix.  As it happens, two of my childhood friends (Sadhana and Shyam) opened a business just outside Phoenix, a juice bar and restaurant called 24 Carrots.  Since I planned to be in Phoenix right around mid-day, I made a plan to stop there for lunch.

There was, of course, a catch.  24 Carrots distinguishes itself by serving high quality vegan food, raw food, and locally-sourced food.

As those of you who know me can attest, I am not a vegetarian.  My pendulum swings far to the other side.  I enjoy meat, the more exotic the better, and prefer my steak still mooing.  I recognize that vegetables have their place, but that place is as a garnish to meat.  When it comes to non-meats, my favorite culinary category is dairy; I love good cheeses.

I consider the cheeseburger the highest accomplishment of civilization.

Because of that, the prospect of eating a meal at a vegan restaurant gave me pause.  Vegan food avoids not only meats, but animal products such as eggs and dairy.  Of course, it would be worth it to visit Sadhana, so I resolved to order a variety of offerings from their menu and chalk it up to a new experience.   Frankly, I did not expect to enjoy it, but fell back on my favorite mantra: yes, I am willing to try new things.

When I first arrived at 24 Carrots, just a mile off the interstate in Chandler, I was very impressed.  Along the wall, they featured tree-themed fine art, consistent with the nature-friendly theme of the restaurant.  A large blackboard in the rear featured inspirational and funny quotations.
The atmosphere was bright, clean, and welcoming.  I was glad to be there.

During my 90-minute visit, the frenetic lunch rush kept the staff, including Sadhana, scrambling to fill orders for invariably happy diners.  Most had apparently been there before, and returned with regularity.  This was very encouraging.

I ordered a wide variety of food from the menu, beginning with a smoothie.  As much as I hate to devote a full paragraph to a single smoothie, my experience with it was interesting.  When I first took a sip, I thought perhaps it had not been mixed properly, as there was hardly any flavor.  It had color, but no taste!  Immediately, I thought my bias confirmed, that vegan/raw/organic food would be ethically rewarding, and gastronomically disappointing.

However, as I continued drinking, a funny thing happened: it started to get better, and then not just good, but really really good.  It was different from the type of “good” I would usually assign to a beverage.  It was a sort of crisp, clean taste that I enjoy but seldom experience.  Upon later reflection (did I mention the 3,600 miles?  Lots of time to think…), I believe what happened was a sort of palate-cleansing.  My only earlier meal that day was a croissant sandwich from Arby’s, along with some high-fructose orange-like beverage.  The shocking sugars and processed foods had conditioned my palate to only respond to shouting; the softer tones of wholesome food did not immediately register.

As I finished the smoothie, I was definitely enjoying the more subtle flavors.  This was followed by a jalapeno dish stuffed with cashew and vegan cheese.  I still have no idea what is in the oxymoronically-named vegan cheese, but this was the best thing I tasted at the restaurant, and I nearly ordered a second helping.

The main course was a half-sandwich filled with, of all things, beets.  Now, to say that I do not like beets is a bit of an understatement.  I have written a derisive short story regarding the fictitious history of the beet, positing that they grow underground because God was attempting to hide his mistake from us.  There is nothing redeeming about a beet.

…except that these beets tasted good.  They were thinly sliced, and there was some sort of chemistry between the bread, the other ingredients, and the beets that rendered them not only edible, but enjoyable.   They did drip annoying stain-juice all over my sleeves, but I can’t really blame the dish for my inability to cleanly consume it.

The sandwich came with a soup of avocado and tomato.  For some reason, the descriptive word “raw” did not register as it should, and I was surprised to find the soup served cold.  Avocados are nature’s butter; nothing with avocados tastes anything but wonderful, and this cold soup was no exception.

Overall, my experience with vegan food was refreshing.  I do not think I could eat vegan food for every meal, but this dining experience was a pleasure, not a chore.  My later stops in Austin and Little Rock provided enough barbecue that my dietary need for massive quantities of animal protein was not jeopardized.

If you ever pass through Phoenix, I recommend trying 24 Carrots.  Even if vegan is not your thing, you might be pleasantly surprised.  I certainly was.

~Andrew

 

 

Published in: on February 11, 2013 at 1:32 pm  Leave a Comment  
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A Craigslist Yahtzee

photo (14)

Short personal narrative explaining why I’m up before 9 on a Saturday

We live in a deeply divided world.  I’m not talking about political, racial, gender, or ethnic divisions; I’m talking about normal people, and Morning People.  While the former look forward to weekends in order to sleep in, catch up on their rest, and stay up past their bedtimes, the latter are a different breed entirely.  They wake up at ridiculous hours starting with sixes and even fives, and more insidiously, they expect that the rest of us do, too.

So, when my email correspondent yesterday afternoon queried “I can be there tomorrow at 8:30.  Does that work for you?” every fiber of my being recoiled.  I am not a Morning Person.  I enjoy Saturday, because it gives me the opportunity to wake up at the crack of noon and stay up entirely too late.  If I see the sun rising on a Saturday, it usually means I have stayed up way too late on Friday.

Somehow, though, I just could not turn down this meeting.  To recapitulate my recent, lengthy blog post in two words: I’m moving.  Since the move is cross-country, most of my furniture and a good portion of my stuff needs to be sold.  That’s easy if you have a garage, tough if you’re an apartment-dweller like me.  So, I turned to that trusted standby, Craigslist.  Dozens upon dozens of items are listed in my frantic quest to reduce my clutter and generate some cash for the move.

Now, Craigslist is convenient and free, and I’m not really sure how I would fare without it.  All honor.  That said, I hate selling things on Craigslist.  Here are a few reasons why:

1. Some people are flaky.  They set up times to meet with you and no-show.  They email asking for more pics and information, and then disappear without even a “thanks but no thanks” message.

2. Some people are greedy.  They offer far less than your posted price, usually after they’ve already taken up your time by setting up an appointment and coming into your home.

3. Some people are rude.  They write short, terse emails with grammar so incomprehensible it feels like physical assault.  Seriously, my eyes HURT after reading some of their queries and missives.  No matter how polite and professional I try to make my correspondence, some people cannot seem to muster better writing than your average eight year old.

When it comes to selling my beautiful sectional sofa, two additional objections enter my mind:

4. The damn thing is HEAVY.  I distastefully remember spending over an hour moving it into this apartment; getting frustrated by every corner, doorway, and staircase; sweating and aching from its bulk and weight; pledging to burn it rather than ever move it again.  Whoever buys my couch is going to need help getting it out, and I don’t want to help them, not for the $200 I’m asking for the item.  My billing rate at work is $300 per hour, and that’s for a job that I like.  In my view, fair compensation for moving that couch again is about $2,000.

5. I have two cats, and a wife who has been away most of the year for her job.  For that reason, the area behind the couch, under the couch, and between the couch cushions is riddled with cat fur, crumbs, wrappers, cat food, the lost treasure of the ancient Inca, loose change, and additional bric-a-brac that has accumulated over the last four years.  Thoroughly cleaning these areas would require moving the couch, and see objection #4.

To summarize, I was not looking forward to selling the couch, and when I received an instant-response to my posting, I saw an opportunity to get a hard task completed.

So I bit my lip, and lied through my teeth.  “Sure, 8:30 am this Saturday works great for me!”

Skip to: Saturday morning, approximately one hour ago.  The phone rings promptly at 8:30: my prospective buyer had arrived.  I throw on some clothes and go to the parking lot to show him the way.

The first person I see in the parking lot is an older man in a Mini.  I avoid eye contact.  This could go horribly, horribly wrong.

Then, thankfully, I see the gentleman who is, in fact, my prospective buyer.  He brought his roommate, and not one, but two large trucks.  They are both about my age, and built like linebackers.  Seriously, each one of them was built like two of me put together.  I gladly show them in.

Their purchase decision is made in the pure, magical way that only guys can stereotypically shop.  They sit down on the couch, pat the cushions next to them, then stand up.  They sit down on the other side of the couch, pat the cushions on either side, and stand back up.  “Okay,” one says, and hands me two one hundred dollar bills without discussion.  They then proceed to methodically and quickly disassemble the couch and move it out like so many pieces of styrofoam.  Having already resigned myself to having some part in the moving process, I pick up two of the cushions; that was my only role in the relocation of my furniture.

This was by far the best Craigslist sale I could have imagined.  My fears proved unfounded.

I should probably go now, and vacuum the empty spot on which my couch once stood.

~Andrew

Published in: on January 12, 2013 at 10:57 am  Comments (1)  
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Time to Say Goodbye

An open letter to my friends in California

Dear Friends,

Over the holidays, Ashley and I decided to relocate to New York.

This decision has been a long time in the making.  As most of you know, Ashley has a master’s degree in 3-D Character Animation, and in the fall of 2011, she was hired as a freelance animator by a company based in Manhattan.  While the job security was not great- she would find out each week if she was “booked” to work the following week- it provided her with her first real experience in her chosen field.  Since that time, she has been renting a room in Flushing, and while we have traveled back and forth to spend time together, we have been effectively “bi-coastal” for nearly a year and a half.

This past February, I sat for the New York Bar Exam, and was admitted to their bar in October.  The exam itself was quite simple compared to California’s mandatory hazing ritual, but the admissions process was frustrating enough to warrant a future blog post, which will be forthcoming when the mood again strikes me.

We have been investigating whether to relocate, or to have Ashley find a position on the West Coast, since that time.  Finally, last month, two independent developments led us to a decision.  First, Ashley was offered a contract, and negotiated terms better than a professional negotiator (i.e. her husband) could have accomplished.  The significance of this is that she now has job security, along with benefits.  Second, we spent the holidays together in Kentucky, and realized that our current situation is untenable.  I love being with Ashley; it is one of the countless reasons I married her.  Remaining bi-coastal is no longer an option.

For those reasons, today I notified my firm that I will be resigning my position, and leaving California at the end of January.  While I do not yet have a position secured, I am confident that once I am there, in person, for interviews and networking, an opportunity will present itself.

To be sure, I have mixed feelings about moving, though I am confident I am making the right choice for our family.  I love California.  The culture here is, in my opinion, the best in the country.  We are diverse, accepting, progressive, and forward-thinking.  The politics here suit me.  More, California is beautiful.  We have nearly every climate represented in our one state.  I am also a big fan of seasons, which is why I live in an area that skips the crummy ones.  We have snow, if you care to drive to it, but it never imposes itself where we live.  I will also miss the beautiful hiking trails, particularly those in the Auburn area, along the Northern Fork of the American River. If you live here and haven’t visited them, you’re missing out.

More than the state itself, I will miss the people here, and the wonderful friendships I have enjoyed since moving to San Rafael in 2005.  My law school classmates and professors, my wonderfully unique social group in Sacramento, and the professional connections I have relied upon make this a wonderful place to live.  I feel richer for having known all of you.

However, I am also greatly optimistic and excited about the new opportunities and adventures that lay ahead.  New  York is a vibrant city, and moving to the East Coast puts us much closer to our families and childhood friends.  I expect to arrive in New York about a week into February, and look forward to reconnecting with old friends, making new ones, and finding my way in the city that never sleeps.

Thank you all so much for the friendship and support you have shown me over the past eight years.  I will miss you.

~Andrew

Published in: on January 2, 2013 at 8:06 pm  Comments (2)  
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The Mystery of Robert B. Parker

This Thanksgiving, I had the pleasure of joining Ms. Annie Rosenberg for the holiday meal.  She reminded me that a few years ago, when we first re-connected after 14 years, she had made a book recommendation to me, and I had written her a tongue-in-cheek review.  With her permission, I am sharing it below:

Dear Annie,

On the northwest side of San Francisco, tucked between the Chinese restaurants and little cafes on Clement and 6th Avenue, sits Green Apple Bookstore.  The establishment is everything a used bookstore should be: narrow passageways, tall wooden shelves, a labyrinth of nooks and crannies, three meandering stories tall.  Ashley and I love to read, and this is our favorite bookstore: we’ve been here more often than the grocery store.

Usually, I follow the same path through the aisles each time, browsing the literature section, fiction, new fiction, and even science fiction.  Living real life every day, I don’t feel compelled to read about it, too, much preferring a made-up reality.  The circuitous path I follow usually takes me about an hour to fully browse through, agonizing over how many books to purchase, and which.  For Ashley, the trip is much more straightforward: she walks straight back to the fantasy section, and there she remains, sometimes for hours.

This particular Thursday, however, was not for browsing.  We had chores to do, packing to begin.  However, I was compelled by a suggestion- or rather a demand- by an old friend (you’re not old, Annie, just of older acquaintance than most people I know) to find a book by Robert Parker, something about a “Spenser.”  My browsing and glancing and back-cover reading over the years has familiarized me with most popular authors, but this was a name I did not recognize.  When I didn’t find his name in any of my usual sections, I took drastic action: I asked the store clerk where to find his books.

The clerk directed me, not to fiction, not to science fiction, not to literature, nor non-fiction, not even to fantasy, though the proper section was tucked away behind fantasy, so I passed by Ashley as I walked to it: she gave me a funny look, a look that says “this isn’t your area of the store…”

Mystery.  I was seeking a book in the “mystery” department.

I am not a fan of mystery, which is to say I’m not a fan of the idea of mystery, since I have not, to my knowledge, ever read a mystery novel.  I associate the genre with older, barely literate readers, and airports, for some reason.  Mystery, in my mind, is just one step above romance, and not a very large step, either.  This was going to be difficult: Spenser and I were not off to a good start.

I selected “Now and Then” from among the dozen-or-so Parker offerings.  Flipping to a random page, I noted the names “Spenser” and “Hawk,” remembering a suggestion (though not a demand) that the book I choose incorporate Hawk in some way.  Five dollars lighter, I left the store with Ashley, my new book, and enough skepticism to fuel a marital conversation.

For three days, the book sat on my night stand, uncracked, staring at me with a mix of obligation and dread.  “Do I really have to read this book?” I wondered.  “Could I just tell Annie I read it, and move on to Ayn Rand instead?”  Many options were considered, nothing was off the table, except of course for the book.

Finally, on the fourth day after its purchase, I cracked the cover and decided to give Parker twenty minutes in which to impress me.  I confess to feeling no small amount of pride in myself for taking this course of action.  “Yes,” I thought (or maybe I said it aloud…I’ll have to ask Ashley), “I am willing to try new things.”

Now, 20 minutes for most books only gets you through the introduction and perhaps the first few pages.  For “Now and Then,” the combination of large print, small pages, and a large amount of one-word-per-line dialogue translates into roughly forty pages per twenty minutes interval.  The pages were flying by so fast I could feel a draft on my face.

After you mentioned that Parker wrote a paper on the literary form of the detective novel, I was on the lookout for scenes a faire and conspicuous generic elements.  I was not disappointed.  The book opens with a stereotypical meeting between PI and prospective client, complete with sharp, witty dialogue and enough clues about Spenser’s character to render my ignorance of his past twenty-or-so adventures relatively moot.  I never once sensed that I was being slighted for not knowing his background, or for the fact that this was my first Spenser novel.

The plot moved along as quickly as the pages.  Within two dozen pages, the “case” had been solved, and within another twenty two murders had occurred, one each for the client and subject of Spenser’s investigation.  Per the genre, the detective work uncovered clues about not just the case, but about the detective, and it was the intertwining plot-line of his own relationship with that of his nemesis-du-jour that made the book memorable.  My twenty-minutes trial period for Parker lasted an hour and forty minutes, and put me within reach of the end.  I finished it the next morning before work.

My only disappointment with this novel (mysteries are considered novels, right?  I’m very new at this genre…) was the treatment, or rather non-treatment, of Hawk and the other “assistant” characters.  Hawk was presented as a stereotype rather than a round character.  The depiction of the Mexican (though not authentic Mexican, as repeatedly noted) bordered on impropriety through the excessive use of stereotyping.  The book was not intellectually challenging: it was just a good read, plain and simple, a clever story told with talent and conciseness, unlike this review of it.

It was somewhat jarring to transition out of Parker’s world into that of Ayn Rand, since I have been meaning to read “the Fountainhead” for many months, but overall my first experience with mystery was satisfying and enjoyable.  I have become a fan of Robert Parker, and intend to read all of his Spenser books.  It is still a bit disconcerting to be reading books classed as “mystery,” but I think I’ll adjust.

Thanks for the book recommendation.  It was a good one.

All the best,

~Andrew

Published in: on December 5, 2012 at 12:02 am  Comments (1)  

Somebody has to say it…

An inappropriately cynical view of Chris Christie, from a realpolitic perspective

I have been neglecting this blog as the election approaches, instead focusing on my Grossman Guide.  However, that site is non-partisan, and I have a few partisan and ridiculously inappropriate observations to share here.  Consider yourself warned.

The big news story from today was President Obama handling the fallout from Hurricane Sandy, looking presidential, and getting some unexpected kudos from Chris Christie, the Republican governor of New Jersey.  Now, Christie played this one exactly correctly; he slapped down any considerations of politics and focused his attention and remarks on helping the victims of the storm, as he should.  As a part of that, he heaped praise on Obama and his response to the storm, which only underscores the president’s competence in the last week before the election.

So, my inner cynic has been working this out, and I have a theory that is bound to upset some folks, but here it is:  I think Christie is making an intentional, politically-motivated power play.  I do not naively believe that the New Jersey governor, a prominent Republican thought to be on the short list for VP earlier in the cycle, is blind to the political significance of his comments.  Rather, I believe he had two reasons for boosting Obama at this critical juncture in the cycle.

First, Christie may feel snubbed at being passed over for the less-qualified, less-deserving Paul Ryan for the vice-presidential nod.  He would have added immeasurably more to the ticket, and I think he is unhappy at Romney’s decision.  Second, I believe that Christie plans to run for president, and an Obama re-election sets him up as one of the front-runners in 2016.  It simultaneously eliminates Ryan, who will be tainted with a Romney loss, and clears Romney out of the way, since if elected, he would presumably run for re-election in 2016.  Now, Christie can have the field to himself.

And what a field it is!  There are no- make that, NO- Democrats with a clear front-runner status.  Both Hillary Clinton and Joe Biden would be considered front-runners, but they will be rather old four years from now, which is a campaigning liability.  I believed that Christie’s decision not to seek the nomination this cycle was due to his calculation that it would be very difficult to unseat Obama, a political dynamo.  By waiting out his second term, Christie may make his eventual election to the presidency that much more likely.

At the same time, his reaction to the storm, especially in the face of a pending election, gives him bi-partisan credibility.  He put governance before politics at a crucial moment, and the moderates will remember this, as will many Democrats.  Any Republican backlash will ebb if and when he becomes the nominee, as we saw with the lining-up of support for Romney after a bruising primary.

So, controversial much?  I know.  But somebody had to share this opinion, as I’m sure it is shared by many other political observers out there.

~Andrew

Published in: on October 31, 2012 at 9:16 pm  Leave a Comment  
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