Facebook | Just Love Coffee Roasters

Facebook | Just Love Coffee Roasters

There's also a widget in the sidebar that will take you to the Just Love Coffee Roasters website. Just Love Coffees is more than just a place to get your fair trade, specialty coffees--the vision behind it is both personal and global. You can read about my cousins, Rob & Emily Webb, their story of adoption and the motivation for starting Just Love Coffees, here.

I was thrilled to be able to meet my new first-cousins-once-removed on my recent visit back home to middle TN. Communication mostly took place in shy smiles and grins, since my Amharic is, well, non-existent. Can't wait till next time, and neither can Clare.

Till then, Just Love Coffees is, I hope, going to be our coffee-supplier-of-choice as soon as it's up and running in the Fall. So if any of you are needing a supplier, well, I know a guy. Yeah, my cousin, just lemme know, I can hook you up. (imagine me imitating Jon Stewart's NJ routine here)

I know I'm not the only in need of a daily morning and afternoon fix. Let's use our addiction to make the world a more just and loving place, shall we?

the ultimate Others: dare we love them?

I've been horrified by the promos for the new horror movie Orphan I've caught during commercial breaks in The Daily Show (but not for the reasons the movie makers would prefer). I've been thinking for a couple weeks now that I needed to blog about how awful it is that a storyline trading on the neurotic xenophobia that runs unchecked in our society already (in, for example, expressions of racism and anti-immigrant sentiment) is being once again proclaimed as justifiable through that marvelous engine of capitalism known as the Box Office, but as it turns out, I don't have to, because someone much more qualified and eloquent has done so.

from K's blog: "Dr. Aronson recounts the numerous phone calls and emails that she has received from families whose adopted children have merely seen the trailer for this movie. One child asked her parent, ‘Is this what I am? Is this what other people think about me?’ and that kid was 5 years old."

Check out the rest of K's thoughts here, and follow the link to the NPR story as well.

commentary: Horton the Elephant

Horton the Elephant Hatches an Egg was never one of my childhood Seuss favorites as far as I can recall. I dimly remembered the book, mainly through phraes like "lazy bird Maisie" and "I meant what I said and I said what I meant, an elephant's faithful 100%." So watching the 1942 cartoon as an adult, a theologian/mom/feminist adult, is pretty interesting: I wish I could say I liked it--or disliked it--100%, but I'm not Horton.

First off I'm struck by how misogynistic the characterization of Maisie the Bird is. She's a completely despicable character and soundly condemned by adjective in the text: Lazy Bird Maisie. Her opening monologue is a self-pitying rationalization of how she really needs a rest because she's tired of sitting on her egg, it's boring, it's too much work, and she would rather play. Of course we hate this deadbeat mom who lies to the faithful Horton. But who hasn't watched Toy Story or Nemo or Horton the Elephant for the zillionth time in a row and thought "this is boring," or cleaned up vomit from bedsheets and blankets and child in the middle of the night--twice--and thought "this is a hell of a lot of work," or just wished that for once, you could sleep in or (dare I say it) head for Palm Beach? And if there's nothing wrong with the sentiment, what is it about saying it, or even doing it, that is so dastardly? I mean, outside of seducing and lying to a poor dope and totally ditching your egg. But the fact is, judgment is passed on Maisie before she commits that crime; she's already the villain simply for doing a little bitching about her life. Which IS, let's be honest, totally boring. Even Horton the hero thinks so when he ever so faithfully takes it on.

Whic brings me to the next complaint--the cartoon actually in some sense upholds Lazy Maisie's view of the burdensome nature of motherhood, because Horton confirms it repeatedly, and on top of that, Horton is, bluntly, a dope. So despite the overt moral regarding 100% faithfulness, apparently, you have to be a little bit of a dim bulb in order to voluntarily take it on and do it right. Yeah, that's the image of SAHMs I've been looking for. Just flippin' great.

Not to mention the completely random fish that commits suicide by shooting himself in the head with a gun after beholding Horton sitting on the egg.

On the bright side, when the egg hatches, of course, not only is the little offspring loyal to Horton, who despite adversity cared for this egg he inadvertently inherited--subverting myths of blood ties, inherent maternal nurture, etc.--the little thing's a hybrid: it looks like an elephant but with wings like a bird. Oh how I love me a hybrid little elephant bird who prefers a non-traditional parental unit over the uncompelling tie of biological kinship. What's so spectacular about it is Horton's initial objection of being biologically unsuited to hatch the egg is completely subverted; he hasn't feathers (boobs?) and he hasn't wings (womb?), but not only does Horton show, through the act of hatching the egg, that biology doesn't make the crucial difference in the act of nurture--the elephant bird understands that Horton is the real mom. And in undoing the biological essentialism of motherhood with regard to Horton, it's also by extension undone with regard to Maisie--whether the narrative itself goes there or not.

(Should gay parents adopt? Is Horton faithful 100%?)

Lenten disciplines

This year, our Lenten disciplines as a household are pretty simple and practical: top of the list, no more casual eating out. This is harder than it sounds, even for me, who grew up practically never eating out. Now that I'm all grown up (hmph) I appreciate the implicit training I somehow soaked up from Mom's disciplined weekly menu planning and grocery list making and shopping. It's what I do. But I'd fallen into the habit of planning for 5 or 6 meals a week and counting on one night of beng able to talk Brent into pizza, Chinese, or burritos or whatever. Plus, I'd gotten very permissive about indulging my love for egg sandwiches...stopping on the way home from Clare's preschool to buy myself a happy little breakfast is the kind of expense I'm usually good about resisting, but I'd gotten sloppy. So what this really means is paying a bit more attention to what we're eating, making sure that I plan and buy enough food for all our weekly meals, staying within our budget--while "eating well," mindfully and sustainably and nutritionally. It's a bit more work but truthfully, not that much more than I was doing before anyway. And I've found that a judicious combination of Trader Joe's and the Shoprite near St.Stephen's is the economical way to go. (I'm especially happy with Shoprite's new organic store label...my canned tomato buying is much simplified thanks to that.)

Personally I'm also trying to re-start my habit of the daily Jesuit pray-as-you-go podcasts. I'm not doing so well on this one yet but I'm not giving up. Sometimes it just takes awhile to get back into the groove.

The other personal Lenten discipline that I'm resolved upon is a little vaguer than the concrete goals of not eating out and listening to the prayer podcasts, but no less important. I am finding it harder than usual these days to maintain a sense of willingness and ability to give to others, probably fueled by all the apocalyptic economy talk. I suspect this is the case for lots of other people at the moment as well. It's hard to spontaneously and generously give to others when you suspect the tradeoff is your own security. But this instinct of withdrawing and pulling back from our commitment to other people is the problem and not the solution. So I'm looking for ways to remind myself that we all depend on each other, and the illusion of self-sufficiency created by shrinking back into our own households actually makes us all more vulnerable.

If you're looking for a good Lenten discipline to remind you of all the above, think about visiting the Webb family's site and donating a few dollars to help with travel expenses to Ethiopia for their two adopted daughters. A better reminder of the dependency of all human lives on each other, this material world, and ultimately the mysterious sustenance of God that fuels this creation, cannot be found. $25 won't break your budget, but it may remind you that a willingness to share, to love, to recognize our connection, is what makes human lives worth living.

why Facebook is awesome (and you can win a Spa Day)

Facebook is awesome, and even more awesome now that both my parental units are on it. (Maybe my dad will be a more faithful Scrabble partner than Mom? I can only hope.) But in case you're still not convinced, (Joe Hays), here's another reason to love Facebook: it will tell you things about people you've known all your life that you didn't know before (perhaps in an itemized list of 25).

And it lets you participate in people's lives in ways you might not, without it.

Until this morning, I didn't know this was happening. I rarely get to see these cousins 'o mine any longer (a shame!!!) but I have fond memories of spending some formative growing-up years on Archer Ave watching Rob on skateboard and saggy homemade ramp made of discarded plywood from the heap in our adjoining backyard with the Beastie Boys blasting loudly from the boombox. Rob was just older than me enough to be untouchably cool. Now, of course, we're all grown up, with spouses and kids and jobs. The kind of life that often gets all-consuming even while it is very contented, or perhaps because it so very contented. Except--like others I know--my cousin and his family aren't content to be consumed with themselves. Instead, they are full of the unbounded love that spills out over family walls, washing over the whole rest of the world. I love it that I am connected--however virtually--to people like this. And I love it that I can--however slightly--help make something this important and life-changing happen.

And you can too.