Daily Cup of Jo

Money might be the root of all evil, or perhaps it’s lawyers, but I’d make an argument that procrastination is near the top of the list of bad things.  Generally fueled by fear and sloth, procrastination wreaks havoc on our psyche.  Practiced at an Olympic level, it can destroy relationships, stall careers, and become so entrenched as to render a once merely complicated situation irreversibly damaged.

Case in point: Guantanamo.

Opened January 2002 in response to 9/11, the camp (and when I say ‘camp’, I don’t mean s’mores) for global terrorism suspects, at its peak, held over 700 detainees. Over the years, many have been released, deemed innocent of the charges brought against them.  Oh wait – there were no charges brought against them.  Heck, one guy was a used car salesman, in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Several were juveniles.  Too many were swept up by Afghani and Pakistani authorities intent on collecting the $5000 bounty offered by the U.S. government for arrests.  Former Secretary of State Colin Powell’s top aide, Lawrence Wilkerson, made it clear that W, Cheney, and Rummy knew many of those incarcerated were innocent but thought it imprudent to do or say anything – in the name of our safety and their political reputations.

Enter President Obama.  Closing Guantanamo became a priority, one he hoped to accomplish by the end of his first year in office.  That didn’t happen.  Why?  The likes of Sean Hannity, the Fox News talking head, called the detainees ‘the worst of the worst’ and instilled FEAR among his vast, paranoid audience.  Congress, led by Mitch McConnell, jumped on board, declaring it a bad idea to have these ‘captured terrorists’ transferred to American backyards, or at least prisons in the backyards of American towns and cities.  The boogeymen in Cuba scared us too much to be dealt with and so, like most critical issues facing our government, the President and Congress decided to procrastinate.  Guantanamo could be dealt with another day.

Cut to four years later.  One hundred sixty-three detainees remain, many attempting to starve themselves to death.  The bad press the U.S. will get when prisoners actually start dying of hunger will only be added to the already atrocious reputation we began to develop after Abu Ghraib.  Gitmo, in its current state, is a bad idea that only gets worse the more we put off the difficult choices.  By not stopping long enough to figure out a solution, and comprehensively agreeing on what that solution is, we’ve created human beings down at the naval base in Cuba who hate us now even if they didn’t when they arrived. Some of them (most?) are very likely bad men who want to do bad things to America, but looking at the history of the place, there’s a good chance that several were benign, if not outright innocent, when they were arrested.  Who’s to know?  They’re enemy combatants.  They have no rights.

A lawyer friend (I have several) once told me that the foundation of this country’s justice system, and that of many enlightened nations – innocent until proven guilty – is to be upheld at all costs, ‘even if it means criminals sometimes go free’.  I have no idea who these men are at Guantanamo.  They look guilty of something because they look like the 9/11 hijackers, but I’d hardly present those feelings in a court of law.  The point is, we can’t continue to ignore them indefinitely, even if, as average Americans going about our day-to-day lives, we think we can.  It matters how the world views us.  It matters how we view ourselves.

The economy, immigration reform, sensible gun control, clean energy, Gitmo – Washington kicks the can down the road every day on each of these issues.  Policy based on fear, greed, hubris, and sheer laziness?  It’s procrastination.  The root of all evil?  I think so.

In case you’re interested:

High Court Hears Detainee Rights Case – NPR, Nina Totenberg

Classified Files Offer New Insight Into Detainees – NY Times, Charlie Savage, William Glaberson, and Andrew W. Lehren

By the Numbers: Ten Years at Guantanamo Bay – Thinkprogress.com, Eli Clifton

Friday nights, we go out to dinner as a family.  When the girls were young, it was California Pizza Kitchen, El Torito, Baja Fresh.  Later, we went crazy and added The Counter.  Lately, we’ve branched out, dipping our toes in tapas, $u$hi, and southern BBQ.  But CPK, for so long, was our fall back – a solid restaurant where the food was exactly, and consistently, what you expected.  I ordered the vegetarian pizza (loved the Japanese eggplant), the husband – Chicken Tequila Fettuccine.  When they started posting calories on the menu we were both sad, looking for something that wasn’t two thousand calories a bite.

It’s been awhile since we’ve been back.  That burger I had at Stout last week may have been a heart attack on a bun but what do I know?  There were no calories listed on the menu and ignorance is bliss.  But oh, how I’ve missed digging my fork into the husband’s fettuccine, enjoying the tangy sauce, the tender chicken, the tasty peppers.  I was inspired Monday to create my own Chicken Tequila Fettuccine, calories schmalories.  And then I thought, why not see if someone knows the recipe so I can steal it and make it my own?  To the interwebs I went.

Three different sources all confirmed the secret ingredient – soy sauce – which feels wrong but makes this dish taste SO right.  The husband confirmed it was perfect and the daughters approved, so it’s staying in the repertoire.

My tweaks: I reduced the amount of heavy cream because I don’t like heavy cream sauces.  I used Trader Joe’s bag of frozen Fire Roasted Bell Peppers & Onions to reduce prep time, and I eliminated the jalapeno pepper because I’m a wimpy gringa.

And so:

CPK’s Chicken Tequila Fettuccine

(serves 5)

1 lb. spinach fettuccine

3 T. butter

½ cup chopped fresh cilantro (set aside 2 T. for garnish)

2 T. minced garlic

½ cup chicken broth

2 T. tequila

2 T. lime juice (fresh is best)

2 large chicken breasts, uncooked and diced

3 T. soy sauce

1 package frozen Trader Joe’s Fire Roasted Bell Peppers & Onions

1 cup heavy cream

Boil heavily salted water for the pasta.

In a saucepan, melt 2 T. butter.  Add the cilantro (minus the 2 T.) and garlic and sauté for 4 minutes or so on medium heat.  Add the chicken broth, tequila, and lime juice and bring to a boil.  Cook until the mixture is reduced and resembles a ‘paste’, about four minutes.  Set aside.

Cook the fettuccine in the boiling water and drain.

Toss the diced chicken with the soy sauce and set aside for 5 minutes.

In a large skillet, melt the remaining T. of butter and heat the peppers/onions.  Add the chicken and soy sauce and stir, then add the cilantro ‘paste’, and heavy cream.  Toss well and heat until the chicken is cooked through, about 3-4 minutes.  Pour over the fettuccine and garnish with leftover chopped cilantro.

I served this with a Mexican Caesar salad.

Eat it, enjoy, and screw the calories.  Everything in moderation, right?

I’m beside myself about the gun vote yesterday.  Every time someone brings up the subject or I read another story about the reasons why 46 of our elective representatives in Congress failed to support sensible gun control legislation, my heart races.  It’s racing right now.  First, let me quickly clear something up in case you don’t know.

Senator Harry Reid of Nevada, historically a gun rights advocate, voted FOR the bans on assault weapons and large magazines, and initially voted FOR the expanded background check legislation.  He changed his vote to a NO in order to have the ability, as Majority Leader, to bring the measure up again (parliamentary procedures).  So don’t send him hate mail.

President Obama is as angry as anyone and quickly reminded us that the fight is not over.  And it isn’t.  One of the greatest reasons why the NRA/gun lobby is so effective is because they’re successful in getting their troops in line.  The NRA has roughly three million members, depending on whom you ask.  The population of the U.S. is over 300 million.  Yet when you hear about senators’ offices being flooded with phone calls, emails, and texts, it is not we who support the Manchin-Toomey amendment they’re talking about.  It’s the gun lobby.  Are we really so lazy that we’re okay sitting back and letting the parents of the Newtown victims do all the dirty work?  Have you called?  Have you emailed?  Emails are easy, and while several of my missives may have fallen on deaf ears, several did not.  Just Tuesday, I received a note from Montana’s Jon Tester explaining why he’s my friend:  “The Manchin-Toomey amendment is carefully crafted to make our communities safer while strengthening the Second Amendment rights of law-abiding Americans.  Having read the amendment closely, I believe it strikes a careful balance, and I will support it.”  He made other points, all illustrating his commitment to educate his gun-loving constituents on the reasons why they would NOT be affected adversely by this sensible, meaningful bill.  How can North Dakota be so different?  Yet Democrat Heidi Heitkamp voted No.  Flood her offices with phone calls and emails.  What do you have to lose?!  Nothing.

At dinner with friends last Saturday night, we were discussing the issue of gun control.  My overarching take on the subject is, and has always been, clumsy but passionate.  In my heart I believe, simply, that less guns means less death – if not tomorrow than somewhere down the road.  And while I hate to compare apples with oranges, consider the smoking issue.  However we did it – turning smokers into modern-day pariahs – less cigarettes has resulted in less death.  I’m aware there’s no equivalent amendment in our constitution guaranteeing a person’s right to smoke (and everyone still has that right, just in fewer places) but, like MADD, we’ve adjusted our mindset and our expectations of each other.  In regard to gun legislation, Margaret Talbot in The New Yorker this week got it on the nose:

“It’s true, too, that a background check would not have stopped Adam Lanza, who had no criminal record, and whose mother had reportedly bought the guns he used in Newtown.  But laws influence culture, just as culture influences laws, and if Congress enacted a serious piece of gun-control legislation perhaps that might initiate a subtle shift in American attitudes toward guns, and that might eventually lead some parent with a deeply troubled, deeply isolated son fascinated by violence to think twice before turning the family home into a munitions depot.  Conversely, if lawmakers won’t pass even a modest reform supported by the vast majority of Americans, they will be capitulating to the N.R.A.’s corrosive view that the only answer to gun violence is more guns.”

In fact, that’s not the answer.  From Ezra Klein’s Six facts about guns, violence, and gun control (The Washington Post, July 2012):

“Last year, economist Richard Florida dove deep into the correlations between gun deaths and other kinds of social indicators. Some of what he found was, perhaps, unexpected: Higher populations, more stress, more immigrants, and more mental illness were not correlated with more deaths from gun violence. But one thing he found was, perhaps, perfectly predictable: States with tighter gun control laws appear to have fewer gun-related deaths.”

THIS IS NOT OVER.  Flood the Senate with your thoughts.  Just one email.  Just one text.  You’ll sleep better tonight.

The text from my friend Tracey asked simply: “Is Doug in Boston?”  For the past two years, my husband has run the country’s oldest, greatest marathon – but not today.  I texted back a simple ‘no’.  When she responded, “Good year to miss”, I asked why and then quickly thought to check Google News.  I heard from several family members and friends over the course of the next two hours, wondering if the husband was running.  Again, he wasn’t.  So when I subsequently contemplated how best to approach this latest horrific incident with the girls when I saw them at school, I was grateful I didn’t have to start with, “Your dad’s okay but there was a bombing at the Boston Marathon.”

I’m sad.  Aren’t we all?  And now to hear one of the dead was an 8-year-old boy – how do we handle this newest tragedy?  It’s Monday so I’ll talk about motherhood because many of these big, bad events have happened since I’ve had children.  On my own, I can foam at the mouth and call my friends, cry, and ask questions.  In regard to Phoenix, Aurora, and Newtown, we can righteously fight for more effective gun regulations.  But 9/11 and now today in Boston leave me searching for a meaningful approach with the girls.  How can I best assure them that this country remains a mostly safe and worthy place to live?  That life itself should not be approached tepidly simply because there are a few bad guys out there?

What I really wanted to say to my daughters was “I don’t want to talk about it” and “It’ll never happen to you” – but the former is unacceptable and the latter I can’t say with certainty.  We knew someone who died in the South Tower on 9/11.  The husband wasn’t in Boston today simply because he missed qualifying by a minute or two.  Am I scared?  No, but that didn’t stop me from crying while watching the news.  Every time something like this happens, I do think, It’s official. We’ve broken the world and now I have to tell the girls. But I can’t do that because deep down, I don’t believe it’s true.  In the words of my beloved Pink:

“Just a second, we’re not broken, just bent.”

And in terms of our dinnertime conversation this evening, I had to use the words of Mister Rogers.  Perhaps you saw this on Facebook after Aurora or Newtown.  It’s appropriate for today:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping.’  To this day, especially in time of disaster, I remember my mother’s words and I am comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.”

We’re with you Boston.  We care.

I had little love for the “Mad Men” season opener; it was bound to happen.  For years, I didn’t care much that these people were mostly dreadful – selfish, greedy, gluttonous.  They embodied nearly all the seven deadly sins, but their approach was so stylish and compelling, the husband and I returned week after week to Don, Betty, Roger, Pete, Peggy, and Joan.  Last Sunday, however, they lost me.  In a series of vignettes not connected in any obvious way, the arcs of their characters appear to have hit permanent plateaus.  Betty remains chubby, detached, and obliviously cruel.  Don is still a sullen cheater, allergic to happiness.  Peggy has become Don.  Roger takes up space, and Pete – well, Pete is Pete.  There’s not a cheerful one in the bunch.

We’re halfway through Netflix’s “House of Cards”.  Kevin Spacey portrays Majority Whip Frances Underwood in a D.C. environment so contemptuous, if it’s anything like the real deal, we all should kill ourselves right now.

Look this way and that – on television, in the movies, at the grocery store, the dog park, Starbucks – and you’ll find cynicism as quickly as you’ll find joy – no, faster.  This is nothing new.  It’s easier to criticize than compliment.  I’m as guilty as the next person, but it wasn’t always this way.  My glass is still half full but just and I know why.  We feed off each other; our inner curmudgeons win the battle for our souls more often than not.  On any given day, I’m going to have ten conversations and six of them will be negative.  We’ll complain about Washington, the weather, traffic, our WiFi connection, the job, the boss, school issues, children who don’t make their beds, Washington, wrinkles, parking at Trader Joe’s, bills, aches, pains, more bills, allergies, our ‘inbox’, spam, dust bunnies, acne, Washington, the spouse, the house, the car, red lights, coffee that’s too weak, coffee that’s too strong, leaf blowers, Washington, and the printer (because printers rarely work).  Then we’ll complain about those who complain all the time.

Believe me, there are real issues about which we should be upset.  But everything else has a bright side, if we’re interested in considering it.  Sure, sometimes it’s more entertaining to be Eeyore than Pollyanna, but it can often wear us down, too.  I’m sick of being weary.

The husband and I went out the other night and returned home to dirty pots and pans that the girls had failed to clean up after dinner.  I was ready with my anger and disappointment until the husband showed me this letter from Miss T:

Silver linings abound.