quotable

"Photography is not a contest… It's about being a witness to your times." —Rich Remsberg

pork carnitas

Leo and I made these last week and loved them.

The slight citrus taste rounds out the flavor profile and the jalapeno, onion, garlic, and other spices mellow nicely in the 8-10 hours this dish takes to cook. When we went to remove this from the crock pot, the meat literally fell off the bone, so it took almost no effort to shred the pieces for burritos. (We didn't bother frying them because they were awesome as-is.)

Also, we made green tomatillo salsa enchiladas with the leftover pork and it was wonderful.

Pork Carnitas
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cook Time: 8-10 hours
Level: Easy
Serves: 4 to 6 servings

Ingredients
2 pounds boneless pork shoulder/ butt (or 2 1/2 pounds bone-in)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons dried oregano (we use Uruguayan adobo)
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 onion, coarsely chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 jalapeno, seeded and ribs removed, chopped
1 orange, cut in half (we used a few tangerines)
3 tablespoons vegetable oil

Directions
Rinse and dry the pork. Salt and pepper liberally. Mix the oregano and the cumin with olive oil and rub all over pork. Place the pork in a slow cooker and top with the onion, garlic, and jalapeno. Squeeze over the juice of the tangerines and add the halves. Cover and cook on low for 8 to 10 hours or on high 4 hours.

Once the meat is tender, remove from slow cooker and let cool slightly before pulling apart with a fork. In a large saute pan, heat the vegetable oil over high heat. Press the carnitas into the oil and fry until crusty on one side. Serve.

Adapted from Melissa d'Arabian

quotable

“The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice.”— Peggy O'Mara

whiskey tango meatballs

When I told Leo that I needed to buy some grape jelly and chili sauce for the meatballs I was taking to his brother's party, he looked revolted. His voice was incredulous when he asked if I was sure that was the recipe. I told him I'd google it.

 He didn't think his family would try them if they knew the recipe, but I assured him that my colleague had said they were always a hit at parties and that they would be eaten and appreciated.

As predicted, they were a smash. I got stopped several times by guests, asking for more meatballs.

2 12 oz jars Heinz chili sauce
1 32 oz jar grape jelly
1 bag meatballs (about 80 in a bag)

Put chili sauce and jelly in a large pot, stir well. Add frozen meatballs; heat on low until meatballs have thawed and then simmer for 2 hours.

Via cooks.com

persimmon pumpkin muffins

This muffin has a flavor and spice combination that remind me of autumn. It makes sense, as the ingredients were picked at the height of their sweetness last fall. My friend Diana goes persimmon picking in the fall and always shares the loot. We eat as many as possible before they go bad and then peel, core, and put the rest through the food processor, freezing the puree to use during the year. Today, I finished the last of the puree and added it to some puree from a French heirloom Rouge Vif D'Etampes pumpkin we grew in our garden and harvested in the fall.

The muffins took all of 10 minutes to prep and baked for 25 minutes. When they were cool, I offered half of a muffin to my two-year-old son Sebastian and another half to his two-and-a-half-year-old buddy Violet when they woke up from their naps today. Seba kept asking for "mas pan" (more bread) and Violet also loved the "cake" and wanted more. In the end, they conned 3 muffins out of me.

persimmon pumpkin muffins
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (I used 1 cup all-purpose and 1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 cup canned solid-pack pumpkin (from a 15 ounce can)-- I used 1/2 cup of persimmon puree and 1/2 cup of roasted pumpkin puree
1/3 cup vegetable oil
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/8 teaspoon ground allspice
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
3/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon

1. Put oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 350°F. Put liners in muffin cups.
2. Whisk together flour, baking powder, spices, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl. Whisk together eggs, persimmon puree, pumpkin puree, oil, and 3/4 cup sugar in a large bowl until smooth, then whisk in flour mixture until just combined. 
3. Stir together cinnamon and remaining 1 tablespoon sugar in another bowl. 
4. Divide batter among muffin cups (each should be about three-fourths full), then sprinkle tops with cinnamon-sugar mixture. 
5. Bake until puffed and golden brown and wooden pick or skewer inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean, 25 to 30 minutes. 
6. Cool in pan on a rack five minutes, then transfer muffins from pan to rack and cool to warm or room temperature.

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen's version of this recipe

quotable

As a parent to two children, this responsibility and joy resonates with me on many levels.

"Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
...
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth."
"On Children"--Kahlil Gibran

second chances and service to others

This is the eulogy I gave at my father's funeral today.

When I think about my dad, many things come to mind. But what I remember most about him is that he believed in second chances and he also believed in service to others.

Dad was, to a fault, someone who would always turn the other cheek and who didn’t believe in giving up on someone. I like to think that is because second chances changed his life many times.

• In high school, he was an average student who really only cared about his carpentry and shop classes and had no plans to go to college. His high school math/ carpentry teacher, Bill Davis, pulled him aside and gave him a second chance and the encouragement he needed to see life beyond Miami, Oklahoma.
  
   So he put in the work and spent years at junior college taking required classes and eventually double-majored in Industrial Arts and Mathematics at Oklahoma State University, finishing a bachelor’s education in six years instead of four.
  
• Right after he finished college, dad got a draft notice from the US Army. On the advice of his uncle, he went to the Air Force recruiter and asked to have his enlistment backdated, because his odds were better in the sky than they were in the Vietnamese jungle. The recruiter agreed. Once in the Air Force, he earned an alternate slot to Officer Training School. Then he earned an alternate slot into flight school. Each of these second chances kept him Stateside and out of harm’s way for a bit longer. He did go on to serve in Vietnam, logging countless hours as the navigator in the F-4 Phantom.
  
• Eventually, his fighter pilot lifestyle caught up with him and he got a DUI. He was given a second chance by his base commander and sent to Alcoholics Anonymous. He made the most of that chance at redemption – for himself and for others.
  
   Dad was always a friend to the underdog, to the person whom society had given up on long ago. AA was a place where dad would sponsor those who had ceased to believe in themselves, because he knew they needed someone to believe in them. It was also a place where he would gladly give his last dollar to someone who needed it more than him, helping many folks finish school and stay sober. Dad’s time in AA was defined by service to others. He spent many hours doing H&I work in schools and hospitals. And that is consistent with the man I knew.

Dad also believed in service to others.

• He spent 24 years in uniform. While there, he took many Airmen under his wing, mentoring and counseling them on financial matters, family issues, and the job.
  
• When it was time to retire from active duty, he went back to the career he’d planned before Vietnam intervened—he wanted to teach high school, not to the college-prep kids, but to the kids who’d been like him … smart enough to succeed if they worked hard and had a teacher who cared enough to help them along the way.
  
  After he died, I got a note from a friend who had gone to my high school. She told me of dad’s patience and countless extra hours with her, helping her get through ‘remedial’ math after she failed pre-algebra. His time spent with her made all the difference – she got back on track and went on to college. She now teaches high school, too.
  
• Even when faced with a horrible cancer diagnosis, dad remained focused on serving others. Once he was diagnosed with stage IV bladder cancer, he chose a path of treatment that wasn’t just about him beating the disease. He underwent two brutal clinical trials because he firmly believed that if doctors had anything to learn about the disease, he wanted them to use what they learned from him to help others.

My dad was many things to many people. But when you think of him, I hope you’ll remember Gary A. as I do: he was someone who gave people the benefit of the doubt and who believed that with a little help, all of us can use a second chance to change our lives -- or the lives of others -- for the better.

quotable

"Travel like Ghandi, with simple clothes, open eyes and an uncluttered mind." -Rick Steves b. 1955

fettuccine with pancetta and fennel

3 tablespoons unsalted butter
5 ounces thinly sliced pancetta, cut into matchstick-size strips (I use applewood smoked bacon)
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 large fennel bulbs, fronds chopped, bulbs cut into 1/4-inch-thick wedges
2 teaspoons fennel seeds
1/8 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
1 cup whipping cream

1 pound fettuccine
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Melt butter in heavy large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add pancetta and garlic; sauté until garlic is pale golden, about 4 minutes. Stir in 1/3 cup chopped fennel fronds, fennel wedges, fennel seeds and crushed red pepper. Cover and cook until fennel wedges are soft, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes. Add cream; cook until reduced by half, about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, cook fettuccine in large pot of boiling salted water until just tender but still firm to bite, stirring occasionally. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup pasta cooking water. Toss pasta with fennel mixture and enough reserved cooking water to coat. Season with salt and pepper. Serve, passing Parmesan cheese separately.

yield: Makes 4 to 6 servings

Adapted from Fettuccine with Pancetta and Fennel

turkey meatballs

2 1/4 cups (6 oz) panko bread crumbs
1 1/2 cups buttermilk (or 1 cup plain yogurt + 1/2 cup milk)
3 eggs, lightly beaten
3 lbs ground turkey (or 2 lbs 85% lean ground beef + 1 lb ground pork)
6 oz prosciutto, thinly sliced and chopped fine
3 oz Parmesan cheese, grated (about 1 1/2 cups)
6 TBSP minced fresh parsley leaves
3 medium garlic cloves, minced (about 1 TBSP)
1 1/2 tsp powdered gelatin, dissolved in 3 TBSP cold water
1 1/2 tsp table salt
1/2 tsp ground black pepper

1. Place wire racks in 2 foil-lined rimmed baking sheets. Adjust oven racks to lower-middle and upper-middle positions. Heat oven to 450F.
   
2. Combine bread crumbs and buttermilk in a large bowl and let sit, mashing occasionally with a fork, until smooth paste forms, about 10 minutes.
3. Add eggs, ground meat, prosciutto, Parmesan, parsley, garlic, gelatin mixture, 1 1/2 tsp salt, 1/2 tsp pepper to bread crumb mixture. Using hands, gently mix until thoroughly combined. Lightly form about 1/4 cup mixture into 2-inch round meatball (about 2 oz); repeat with remaining mixture to form approximately 40 meatballs.
4. Spray wire racks with nonstick cooking spray and place meatballs, evenly spaced, on racks; roast until browned, about 30 minutes, rotating trays from front to back and top to bottom halfway through.
5. Remove meatballs from oven and lower oven temperature to 300F. Gently add meatballs to sauce, cover pot, and place in oven. Cook until meatballs are firm, about 1 hour.
   

Adapted from Cook's Illustrated, Nov/Dec 2010.

balsamic dijon vinaigrette

Balsamic Salad Dressing

1 1/2 tsp Dijon mustard (I tend to use the grain grain mustard)
2 TBSP balsamic vinegar (I use Costco’s Kirkland variety)
Pinch of salt (Kosher) and pepper
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil (again, Costco Kirkland)

In the bottom of a large salad bowl, whisk together the mustard, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper. Add the olive oil and whisk together. Ina uses a lot of olive oil; I don’t use as much as her.

Taste the dressing with a lettuce leaf (that’s the only way to truly taste a salad dressing). If it’s too bitter, add some more olive oil or mustard. Really — it’s that simple!

Then layer the lettuce on top with your favorite salad fixings. I like to add tomatoes, cucumber and avocados. Toss the salad together when you’re ready to eat.

Here’s a little trick (courtesy of the Barefoot Contessa herself): You can make the salad in advance as long as the dressing is at the bottom and the lettuce and everything is not tossed together yet. So leave it in the fridge and then toss it before you eat. I do this every time we bring it to someone’s house. Hosts think it’s magic. Isn’t Ina smart?!

Via Leah's Thoughts

welcome, lucía

We are pleased to announce that Lucía was born by cesarean section in San Diego, CA on 10 February 2012 at 11:40 a.m. Baby weighed 6 lbs, 11.4 oz/ 3.045 kg and is 19.5 in/ 49.5 cm long. Queremos compartir la noticia de que hoy, 10 de Febrero, a las 11:40 de la mañana, Lucía ha nacido por intermedio de cesárea en San Diego. La nena pesó 3.045 kg y midió 49.5 cm.

creamy corn empanadas

We make a few kinds of empanadas, but these are most people's favorite.

The filling is adapted from Alton Brown's Better Than Grannie's Creamed Corn recipe. I use La Salteña's wrappers (para hornear) and this is an easy, crowdpleasing recipe.

Directions:

1. Make filling and let it cool
   
2. Line 1 cookie sheet with parchment paper (in case of blowouts)
   
3. Fill wrappers, fluting the edges or using a fork to seal them well
4. Paint with a beaten egg yolk (for color)
   
5. Bake at 350 for 25 minutes or until golden brown

Creamy Corn Filling
Prep Time:10 min
Cook Time: 12 min
Yield: 3 cups

Ingredients
1/2 onion, diced
1 TBSP butter
2 pinches kosher salt
2 cups frozen organic corn
1 TBSP sugar
1/4 tsp turmeric
2 TBSP yellow cornmeal
1 TBSP corn flour or all-purpose flour (to thicken it so that it doesn't ooze out)
1 cup heavy cream
Fresh ground black pepper

In a saucepan over medium heat, sweat the onion in butter and salt until translucent, about 3 minutes. Add the corn and cook over medium high for about 5 minutes. Sprinkle the corn with the sugar and turmeric and stir constantly for about 2 minutes. Sprinkle the cornmeal and flour on the corn, using a whisk to combine well. Add the heavy cream and cook until the corn has softened, about 2 to 3 minutes. Season with freshly ground black pepper.

zucchini bread

My friend Audra made this the other day and it was the right mix of spicy and sweet. She served it with softened salted butter, and it was a great complement to the other flavors.
It is a Paula Deen recipe, and because Paula's the queen of butter, I did a double-take when I saw that she used oil in the recipe. Being a butter fascist myself when it comes to baking, I substituted unsalted butter for the oil. I also omitted the nuts and added the zest of half a lemon.

Ingredients

3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (or 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour and 1 cup whole wheat pastry flour)
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 cups sugar
1 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled (it works just as well with 1/2 cup butter and 1/2 cup applesauce)
4 eggs, beaten
1/3 cup water
2 cups grated zucchini
1 teaspoon lemon juice
zest of half a lemon
1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a large bowl, combine flour, salt, nutmeg, baking soda, cinnamon and sugar. In a separate bowl, combine oil, eggs, water, zucchini and lemon juice. Mix wet ingredients into dry, add nuts and fold in. Bake in 2 standard loaf pans, sprayed with nonstick spray, for 1 hour, or until a tester comes out clean. Alternately, bake in 5 mini loaf pans for about 45 minutes.

Thanks to Audra N for sharing this Paula Deen recipe with me.

my renewed pledge on national coming out day

On National Coming Out Day, I renew my pledge to teach my son (and his little sister) what I didn’t learn at home:

• That the greatest family value is valuing all families.
• That home is a safe place to be yourself.
• To embrace your identity and the identities of others.
• That there is no normal ... there’s who you are and that is wonderfully unique.
• To speak up for those who are afraid to use their voices and to stand up for those who feel powerless.
• To befriend those who feel alone and are most at-risk for checking out of this world.
  
• To fight for a world where there is no need for closets because there is no longer any reason to hide.
• That they are loved by me and by their father, period.

hate is a virus

I love my son more than I ever thought was possible and want him to grow up knowing that he is loved and accepted for who he is. I also want him to love deeply without worrying that I will love him less if he happens to love a man instead of a woman. I'm fortunate that his father feels the same way as I do. And both of us will absolutely stand up for and with our son, no matter who he happens to choose when he's older.

Lessons from Sharing the Story of My (Possibly) Gay 6-Year-Old Son
By Amelia
Posted: 10/3/11 12:07 AM ET
Editor's note: "Amelia" is a pseudonym chosen by the author in order to keep her family's identity anonymous.
On August 16 I learned what viral meant.

I wrote an essay about my oldest son and his love of a popular gay television character, Glee's Blaine, and how this crush led to him telling me he wanted to kiss boys, not girls. I naively posted it to a blog, thinking some fans of the show might think it was cute.

Within 24 hours it had been reposted and "liked" over 30,000 times on the blog's website. It wasn't long before messages started flooding in, other websites began posting it and people were commenting. The response was overwhelming positive. What I thought was a simple story about my kid and our family had clearly stuck a chord with a lot of people.

It also made some people uncomfortable. Of the criticisms, the most common is that my son is six years old and doesn't know anything about sex. While I fully acknowledge this may not be the end-all-and-be-all to my son's sexual orientation, I object to the idea that being gay is only about sexual acts. Our emotions and feelings, our attractions and compulsions, all contribute, not just our body parts. If my son had a crush on the star of iCarly, I doubt people would be saying he was too young to have those sexual feelings towards a girl. I think they would think it was an innocent schoolboy crush, which is exactly what it is.

Plus, for every comment I've read saying my son is too young, I have received multiple messages from adults saying "I knew when I was little, too."

It got me thinking and after awhile I started to feel like I knew this big secret that shouldn't be a secret at all: Every gay adult used to be a gay kid. It's not as if all children start off as straight until some time later when someone flips the gay switch. We are who we are from the very moment we are born.

The horrible and hate filled words of the Michele Bachmann's of the world take on a whole new level of disgusting when picturing them being screamed at a group of kindergartners and first graders. They are unnatural. They are sinners. They are going to hell. They are dirty, wrong and sick.

These people would tell my innocent little boy (who currently wants to be a fireman-ninja when he grows up) he is the biggest threat the American family... because he wants to kiss boys and not girls.

The reality is they are pounding these words of ignorance and hate into the ears and minds of gay children every day. And those children are hearing them. I know because many of those kids are now writing to me. Kids as young as 14 have sent me messages. So many are scared children, who sure as hell did not choose this for themselves, living in fear of their family finding out because they know full well what their mom and dad will say. And they tell me they wish I was their mom.

I want to keep all this talk, all these lies, all this hate, away from these kids. Of course, there is an inherent problem with that. We can't pick out the gay kids simply by looking, and behavior isn't a clear indicator (some little straight girls are tomboys, and some little gay boys love their monster trucks). The only way we can truly know someone's orientation is if they tell us, which for some doesn't happen until well into adulthood.

So the solution is obvious to me. Keep it away from all our kids. It's my responsibility as a mother, as a human being, to stand up and say "No more." No, you are not allowed to say those things in front of my children, not unless you want to deal with me. Because I will not allow any of my sons to be viciously attacked without seeing me defend them. They will never have to doubt for a second exactly where their parents stand, and never have to live in fear of who they are.

Because since August 16, I have learned that hate is the virus we all need to be worried about.

“mommy, they are just like me.”

What an amazing parent. In a time when bullies and gay teen suicide are finally being taken seriously, it's refreshing to encounter a mom who is focused on her son's happiness and supporting whatever choices he makes.

I aspire to be this kind of parent. If my little boy is lucky enough to eventually find love and someone who loves him and deserves him, I really don't care if that person is gay, straight, or purple. So long as he is good to my son and good for my son, I'll be thrilled.

“Mommy, they are just like me.”

My oldest son is six years old and in love for the first time. He is in love with Blaine from Glee.

For those who don’t know Blaine is a boy…a gay boy, the boyfriend of one of the main characters, Kurt.

This isn’t a ‘he thinks Blaine is really cool’ kind of love. It is a mooning at a picture of Blaine’s face for a half hour followed by a wistful “He’s so pretty” kind of love.

He loves the episode where two boys kiss. My son will call people in from other parts of the house to make sure they don’t miss his ‘favorite part.’ He’s been known to rewind it and watch it over again…and force other to, as well, if he doesn’t think people have been paying enough attention.

This infatuation doesn’t bother me or his father. We live in a very hip-liberal neighborhood, many of our friends are gay, and idea of having a gay son isn’t something that bothers either of us. Our son is going to be who he is, and it is our job to love him. End of story.

He is also six. Six year olds get obsessed with all kinds of things. This might not mean anything at all. We always joke that he’s either gay, or we have the best blackmail material in the history of mankind when he’s a 16 year old straight boy. (Take that naked bath time pictures!)

Then the other day we were traveling across the state listening to the Warblers album (of course), and in the middle of Candles, my son pipes up from the back seat.

“Mommy, Kurt and Blaine are boyfriends.”

“Yes, they are,” I affirm.

“They don’t like kissing girls. They just kiss boys.”

“That’s true.”

“Mommy, they are just like me.”

“That’s great, baby. You know I love you no matter what?”

“I know…” I could hear him rolling his eyes at me.

When we got home I recapped this conversation to his Dad, and we stood simply looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Then we smiled.

“So if at 16 he wants to make a big announcement at the dinner table, we can say ‘You told us when you were six. Pass the carrots’ and he’ll be disappointed we stole his big dramatic moment,” my husband says with a laugh and hugs me.

Only time will tell if my son is gay, but if he is I am glad he’s mine. I am glad he has been born into our family. A family full of people who will love and accept him. People who will never want him to change. With parents who will look forward to dancing at his wedding.

And I have to admit, Blaine would be a really cute son-in-law.

warren for president 2016

quotable

Dogs love us like we wish we could love others; they are faithful where we are feckless. For as long as they are able, they endure. - Annmarie Kelly-Harbaugh, in Hounded By Grief Over A Canine Companion

quotable

How I love thee, Jon Stewart.

Via Prose Before Hos

love

Leap
by Brian Doyle

A couple leaped from the south tower, hand in hand. They reached for each other and their hands met and they jumped.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them falling, hand in hand.

Many people jumped. Perhaps hundreds. No one knows. They struck the pavement with such force that there was a pink mist in the air.

The mayor reported the mist.

A kindergarten boy who saw people falling in flames told his teacher that the birds were on fire. She ran with him on her shoulders out of the ashes.

Tiffany Keeling saw fireballs falling that she later realized were people. Jennifer Griffin saw people falling and wept as she told the story. Niko Winstral saw people free-falling backwards with their hands out, like they were parachuting. Joe Duncan on his roof on Duane Street looked up and saw people jumping. Henry Weintraub saw people “leaping as they flew out.” John Carson saw six people fall, “falling over themselves, falling, they were somersaulting.” Steve Miller saw people jumping from a thousand feet in the air. Kirk Kjeldsen saw people flailing on the way down, people lining up and jumping, “too many people falling.” Jane Tedder saw people leaping and the sight haunts her at night. Steve Tamas counted fourteen people jumping and then he stopped counting. Stuart DeHann saw one woman’s dress billowing as she fell, and he saw a shirtless man falling end over end, and he too saw the couple leaping hand in hand.

Several pedestrians were killed by people falling from the sky. A fireman was killed by a body falling from the sky.

But he reached for her hand and she reached for his hand and they leaped out the window holding hands.

I try to whisper prayers for the sudden dead and the harrowed families of the dead and the screaming souls of the murderers but I keep coming back to his hand and her hand nestled in each other with such extraordinary ordinary succinct ancient naked stunning perfect simple ferocious love.

Their hands reaching and joining are the most powerful prayer I can imagine, the most eloquent, the most graceful. It is everything that we are capable of against horror and loss and death. It is what makes me believe that we are not craven fools and charlatans to believe in God, to believe that human beings have greatness and holiness within them like seeds that open only under great fires, to believe that some unimaginable essence of who we are persists past the dissolution of what we were, to believe against such evil hourly evidence that love is why we are here.

No one knows who they were: husband and wife, lovers, dear friends, colleagues, strangers thrown together at the window there at the lip of hell. Maybe they didn’t even reach for each other consciously, maybe it was instinctive, a reflex, as they both decided at the same time to take two running steps and jump out the shattered window, but they did reach for each other, and they held on tight, and leaped, and fell endlessly into the smoking canyon, at two hundred miles an hour, falling so far and so fast that they would have blacked out before they hit the pavement near Liberty Street so hard that there was a pink mist in the air.

Jennifer Brickhouse saw them holding hands, and Stuart DeHann saw them holding hands, and I hold onto that.

Via Aaryn

on globalization

Your car is Japanese. Your pizza is Italian. Your falafel is Lebanese. Your tortillas are Mexican. Your democracy is Greek. Your coffee is Brazilian. Your movies are American. Your tea is Tamil. Your shirt is Indian. Your oil is Saudi Arabian. Your electronics are Chinese. Your numbers are Arabic, your letters Latin. And you complain that your neighbor is an immigrant? Pull yourself together!

quotable

Do your little bit of good where you are; it's those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world. - Bishop Desmond Tutu

quotable

"How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something but to be someone." - Coco Chanel

happy birthday freddie

Happy birthday, Freddie. Your light burns brighter than ever.

quotable

“Modern cynics and skeptics see no harm in paying those to whom they entrust the minds of their children a smaller wage than is paid to those to whom they entrust the care of their plumbing.” -John F. Kennedy

font geeks of the world, unite

I'm a typography geek. And I love "Doves". Carry on.

Know This Headline's Font? You're 'Just My Type'
September 4, 2011

Are you an Arial person? A Times New Roman? A Garamond? A Lucida Handwriting? So much of our communication is expressed in text these days that people become deeply attached to the typeface they use to type out their thoughts. Bold or unbold, serif or sans-serif — like the car you drive or the clothes you wear, your font expresses who you are ... and can go in and out of style.
A Font For Radio

Many NPR staffers read scripts all day, so fonts are near and dear to our hearts. We asked some familiar NPR voices share their typeface of choice:
Garamond: "It's got little feet on it — serifs. It's a very clear, simple font."

Garamond: "It's got little feet on it — serifs. It's a very clear, simple font."
Gill Sans: "The cleanness, the simplicity of the Gill Sans is what I really like. I like that you can experiment with different fonts, but finding one that really works is nice. I feel like I'm not wandering through the font desert anymore."

Gill Sans: "The cleanness, the simplicity of the Gill Sans is what I really like. I like that you can experiment with different fonts, but finding one that really works is nice. I feel like I'm not wandering through the font desert anymore."

"Type, like fashion and music, comes in and out of vogue," Simon Garfield, author of Just My Type, tells NPR's Audie Cornish. So what's in right now? "I think now script fonts are making a comeback," he says.

Fonts didn't always hold such a significant spot in the cultural imagination. Before personal computers, type looked largely the same. "Everything basically looked like the typewriter font," Garfield says. "It was a liberating thing in the '80s" when it became possible to manipulate fonts with the click of a mouse.

But with great power comes great responsibility ... and some didn't use their typeface forces for good. To wit: Comic Sans. If you've ever printed signs to advertise a yard sale or sent invitations to your child's birthday party, chances are you've employed the wildly popular Comic Sans. The playful letters became so overused that it inspired a backlash. Garfield is hardly a fan, but he comes to Comic Sans' defense.

"The key thing with Comic Sans and with all fonts is really the use to which it's put," he says. "If you used it ... to invite people to your school fair, that was great. [It was] not so great, however, when it began appearing on the sides of ambulances and gravestones." Garfield recalls one member of the Ban Comic Sans "movement" saying: "If you use it in the wrong place it's like inviting a clown to a funeral."

Then there's Helvetica — a typeface used so widely that for many people it has become essentially invisible. (The 2007 documentary Helvetica chronicled the many uses of Helvetica in our everyday lives, from public transit signage to corporate logos.) In Just My Type, Garfield follows the story of one man who tried to spend a day without Helvetica — and found it almost impossible.

"He couldn't get up in the morning," Garfield says. "His T-shirt label instructions had Helvetica on them. He couldn't use a dollar bill because the numbers were in Helvetica. He couldn't go on the New York subway because [all the signs were] in Helvetica as well. It's really taken over the world."

But fonts come and go, and Garfield says that Helvetica has a rival these days: Gotham. (You may recognize Gotham from Barack Obama's 2008 presidential campaign materials.) But while fonts today simply fall out of fashion, back before computers, getting rid of a font wasn't simply a matter of waiting for it to fade away. Take, for example, the Doves typeface, which met a rather abrupt end.

"Doves, like the bird, is a fleeting type," Garfield says. The typeface was designed in 1900 by T.J. Cobden Sanderson, who was "a real aesthete. He thought he could invent the perfect, most beautiful type," Garfield explains. (You can see a page from the 1903 Doves Press Bible here.)

Sanderson formed a publishing house that printed using Doves type, but after a terrible falling out, Sanderson decided that he did not want his publishing partner to be able to use the font after he died. "So he took all the letters that had ever been made with Doves and he took them to Westminster Bridge over the [River] Thames and threw them in," Garfield says.

... don't get any ideas, Comic Sans haters.

happy re-birthday to me

Today, I'm eight years kidney cancer-free. Lots has changed in my life since my diagnosis and treatment. I have much to be celebrate. I also have much to be sober about, including the current illness of my father (stage 4 bladder cancer) and other friends who are waging their own battles with pancreatic and breast cancers.

If nothing else, please do as I'm doing today -- take a moment to savor a wonderful meal, hug (and laugh with) your loved ones, and do something healthy for your mind/ body. None of us are promised tomorrow. But we can all make today glorious.

quotable

“Harry Potter is about confronting fears, finding inner strength and doing what is right in the face of adversity. Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend.” -Stephen King

why capitalization matters

Capitalization is the difference between helping your Uncle Jack off a horse & helping your uncle jack off a horse.