Wednesday, May 20, 2009

the baron and the husband aren't the only ones calling it rooster sauce

reader, you may know that the baron is one-half chinese, having inherited her relative lack of body hair and sallow winter-time skin from the mother (math skills as yet to be developed). in her youth - her extreme youth - she never gave her ancestry much thought, except that her house (and that of her grandmother's, and of her aunts') smelled strongly of cooked onions and canola oil and spices, and recently boiled rice; these odors were absent in the homes of her friends. when she was slightly older (having moved from the protective smallness of private school to the jarring public school landscape of junior high), her dark hair and slightly slanted eyes *really* bothered her, what with all her friends being blonde, petite, and destined for cheerleading greatness. the baron - tall and skinny and dark complected - felt her difference acutely.

those days are long past, reader. the baron has since come to appreciate herself: dark hair is no better or worse than blonde hair, the swim team is just as worthwhile as the cheerleading squad, and it turns out everyone wants to be tall and skinny! yay!

and, all those cooking smells, the ones that permeated her childhood home? the ones that permeate her memories still? well, those are coming around too: see this article in today's new york times.

Friday, May 15, 2009

a tale of two matheys

reader, you may recall that the baron recently went home for a week.
while there, her mother (from now on, 'the mother') tried to get a photo of the baron and jonathan.
the mother's results were not entirely successful... neither child really wanted to participate in the picture-taking, and the mother couldn't really work out the camera's finer points (like auto-focus).

see the fruits of her labor, below.

who's that handsome devil?

reader, if you have a few minutes, check out this video at, ahem, foxnews.com.

um.

reader, you must believe that the baron would never refer you to fox news unless the circumstances were highly unusual... and in this case, they are.

see, the baron knows neela who is married to holter who is the co-host of a show called 'wasted'. for reasons that remain unclear to the baron, holter made an appearance on everyone's favorite 'fair and balanced' news station to show the fox viewership how to make a meal for their dogs at home. this premise - the making of 'dog food' at home - is an excellent one, though it is lost on the hosts on-screen there with holter who evince surprise that ANYONE WOULD MAKE FOOD FOR A DOG!

the baron is fairly certain that the not-so-tiny particles of evil that swirl around the fox and friends studio did not permeate the dogs' meal. this must mean, too, that those particles didn't get on holter at all; or, if they did, hopefully they came right off in the shower. also, those particles probably will not travel from the fox news web site to your computer and into your brain, so. there's that.

ahem. in any case, the baron knows neela and has come to know holter, and his appearance on a nationally televised cable news show seems like something worth sharing with you. see how that's all highly unusual?

(the baron would like to point out that holter is great and engaging in this clip, but the real stars of the show are riley and remy.)

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

this conversation made her day

reader, though the baron tries very, very hard to maintain virtuous eating habits, she is occasionally unable to resist the temptations of certain fast food establishments. those of you who are personally acquainted with the baron know that taco bell in particular holds her in some kind of trance: when she's had a long day in the yard, when she's on a road trip, when it's mid-week and there's nothing at home for lunch, the baron will stop at her old friend, taco bell.

her favorite taco bell meal, for many years, had been two bean burritos with no cheese, with lots and lots of fire sauce. lately, though, she's made a change to the seven layer burrito. she orders it without the sour cream, cheese, or guacamole (which makes it essentially a bean burrito with rice and vegetables), and reader - it is good.

in the baron's experience at her local taco bell, the men and women who work the drive through are typically unenthusiastic about their work, following a pre-written script with little to no vocal inflection. the baron sometimes wishes that she and the drive through employees could break through their respective roles - seller, buyer - and have a real human connection, but then, she feels that way about most commercial transactions. in the baron's mind, she is always looking for a way in, for a way to connect with the person across the counter, to see him or her as a real human being.

yesterday, the baron stopped by taco bell and had this conversation with the young man at the drive through:

-(deadpan) welcome to taco bell. what can i get for you today?
-hello. i'd like a seven layer burrito with no cheese, no sour cream, and no guacamole.
-(deadpan) uh. huh. so you want a...
-seven layer burrito?
-(deadpan) right. no cheese, no...
-no sour cream, no guacamole.
-(deadpan) right. so you want a... a four layer burrito?
-no i- what?
-i said you want a four layer burrtio?
-yes, i guess i do.

the baron had momentarily forgotten that the man at the other end of the speaker box was an actual person, with an actual personality. and he was looking for a way in too, a way to connect with the person at the other end of the sales transaction. it was a nice feeling, knowing that someone else out there was reaching, and she was glad that he reminded her. and it made her four layer burrito taste that much better.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

musings on her father, or, keeping the tradition alive

reader, the baron is very excited for tomorrow's release of the new 'star trek' movie. even though she's been referring to it in her mind as 'star trek: the tiger beat version', and even though she is annoyed by all the young, young actors in it*, and even though jj abrams went and uglied up eric bana for no good reason... in spite of all these things, the baron is, as the 1998 version of herself would say, totally psyched!

she loves 'star trek', the original one, with kirk and spock and bones and scottie and chekov and sulu and even that mostly useless uhura. she loves all the movies, even the 'wrath of khan', and especially the one where they end up in modern-day san francisco? the one with the whales? she even loves 'star trek: the next generation', a series that she watched until almost the end, when the characters had evolved so far from their original selves that she had long since lost the ability to understand or relate to them.

she's not the type of fan who can quote the films back to you, or the type who knows every epsiode by heart. she would refer to herself, in the right company, as a trekkie... but not a TREKKIE, if you get her drift. and anyway, what's not to love? 'start trek', at least the two television series that she watched (after 'the next generation', she kind of gave up on it), took place in a mostly idyllic setting, where mankind had magically not destroyed the planet or itself. where practically any kind of food could be produced, whole, from a replicator (lamb tonight? no problem, and guilt free! no baby animals were slaughtered for your meal!). where the big issues were solved in one hour, two at the most. and really, who doesn't want his or her own holodeck? indeed, the 'star trek' universe was pretty heady stuff for the baron, stuff she's never quite gotten over.

and also.

her father loved 'star trek'. he always did like a good escapist novel or film, but 'star trek' was special. so special that - as the baron has told a few people this week - he used to skive off work on the opening day of a new 'star trek' movie to catch the day's first showing. later on, when the baron and the brother were older, he would take them too... though, no skipping school for them. the baron never quite knew exactly why her father was so excited about these films, or what spoke to him from the screen. she never knew if he saw himself reflected in kirk or spock or bones, or if he liked the subtlety of direction, or if he had had, since youth, a yen for space travel. they weren't really chatty in that way, the baron and her father.

so.

what she's left with are her memories of coming home from school the afternoon that a 'star trek' film opened to find: leftover popcorn on the kitchen counter (back in the days when popcorn came in bags, not buckets; her father could never finish a large bag himself); her father ready to share his very cursory review of the film; and the lingering feeling that something special had happened that day.

so.

the baron, being rather desperate to remember her father any and every way she can, will see 'star trek: the tiger beat version' tomorrow with the husband; new traditions and all that. she'll hope for a transformative feeling, one to remind her of childhood, before things got heavy. she'll pay a little homage to her father - maybe with a large popcorn - and try to imagine what he would have seen on the screen, what his review of the film would have sounded like.

she can actually imagine it now, what he might say after sitting through nearly two hours of film, the whole movie boiled down to this: 'those kids sure seem young.'


*(these actors are not, it should be noted, actually very young at all. the baron is probably just bothered that, for the first time in her life-long relationship with star trek, she is approximately the same age as the players on the screen. which makes her feel old.)

Monday, May 4, 2009

photo essay: things they did last weekend

though the weather was bad the first weekend of may, the baron and the husband and the dogs were able to spend some time outside. the husband mowed the lawn, while the baron took photos of their nascent gardens...


a white poppy, the first one to bloom this year.












lavender iris, the first one.




vegetable boxes, built by the husband during the week the baron was away.






arugula, seeded last weekend.






one of many ferns that survived the winter.





stairs to the not-yet-built-patio.










the 2009 christmas card... which still needs some work.