CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: FOOD FOR THOUGHT

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Back on Slow Motion on Monday, December 17, after an amazing time with my sister and her husband. We celebrated Christmas and New Year’s within the span of three days last week. First, Sue made a complete turkey dinner, with the Kathryn Hill family stuffing and with sweet potatoes (“not yams, “said Sue, “they’re too stringy”) and a tender, succulent free range turkey. Don’t forget the gravy with giblets. Rather non-traditional, but delicious, was Sue’s cheese pie with Graham cracker crust. Her husband Butch said their goal was to make me “pudgy” during my stay. That meal alone made me feel a little pudgy, but Sue and I walked every day, and we didn’t eat a turkey feast every night I was there. Oh no, we had a holupky feast before the turkey – the Ukrainian cabbage leaves stuffed with rice and ground round, cooked in a tomato sauce. And then for our New Year’s feast, we had filet mignon and lobster tails, with a side of Sue’s homemade pirogues (yes, both potato/cheese and cabbage). Is your mouth watering yet? It should be. This was one of the best weeks of my life for comfort food from my childhood in Bethlehem.

Before I write anything else, however, I must note that the Admiral makes incredibly delicious meals for us on Slow Motion. We have certain limitations, like the absence of a conventional oven, a grill and a slow cooker. Still, the Admiral makes the best stir fry this side of Asia. He makes soups chock full of savory ingredients – clam chowder (white and red), beef and barley, potato. He makes five alarm chili. He cooks the best omelets, a treat for breakfast or any time of the day. He’s a gumbo specialist. His spaghetti sauce is out of this world. Yes, you should be salivating right about now. I am.

So when I write that the meals at my sister’s were great, believe me, I know great food. I get to eat it practically every night on Slow Motion. Do you by any chance remember my description of the cooking extravaganza that the Admiral put on for our neighbors in Harper Canyon when we visited in November?  The pulled pork extraordinaire, the rib roast that was out of this world, the beef and pork meat loaves – yep, salivating again.  It’s close to dinner time, which explains some of my current fixation with oral gratification. But really, count me blessed to enjoy the cooking delights of both the Admiral and my sister.

We did other things besides work on making me “pudgy” in Vail, Arizona. Sue and I went to see “Lincoln”. Ever since the movie, “The Incredible Lightness of Being”, I have followed Daniel Day Lewis. In that movie, one of his oft repeated lines was “Take off your clothes. I’m a doctor.” He said this in a thick Czech accent. His lines in “Lincoln” were much loftier, for the most part, except when he had to get down and dirty with the democratic Congressmen to “persuade” them by any means necessary to vote for the Thirteenth Amendment to the Constitution. Day Lewis and Tommy Lee Jones made this movie. Jones was Thaddeus Stevens, the fiercest abolitionist in the House. He had great lines, probably drawn directly from the real speeches in Congress. Still, the delivery was all his. One of many interesting things about this film was the almost non-existent discussion about what the abolition of slavery would lead to, in terms of the rights to which freed Black citizens would be entitled. There was one reference by a Democrat during the House debate to the “Slippery Slope” which would lead from abolishing slavery to, God forbid, giving women more freedom and the right to vote. But the Black women in the movie appeared ecstatic with the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment. And the White women, like Mary Todd L. herself, made no mention of “Hey, while you’re at it, Mr. President, how about giving me more freedom under the law, including that precious right to vote?”

History tells us that leading Black women and White women worked long and hard for passage of the 13^th, 14^th and 15^th Amendments, and they were dismayed – nay, angered – that the men with whom they had fought to abolish slavery had little, if any, interest in changing the status  of women. And as we know, it took a lot of decades and another amendment to get women the right to vote. It hasn’t even been one hundred years since we won that right. Remember the Equal Rights Amendment? We got 35 out of the necessary 38 states to ratify it in the 1970’s, and that was it! No constitutional guarantee of equal rights for women and men. So those of you who are big States Righters, don’t talk to me about how this is a “state” decision. If you can’t agree on equal rights for women, and agree to put this guarantee in the U.S. Constitution, maybe you should secede from the Union. Bye Bye. You might enjoy an alliance with Saudi Arabia, where women will be permitted to drive in a few years. And along with the shameful treatment of women, you would get the additional benefit of energy independence. You States know who you are, the ones who refused to ratify the Equal Rights Amendment, but as a reminder for us all, here they are:

Alabama
Arizona
Arkansas
Florida
Georgia
Illinois
Louisiana
Mississippi
Missouri
Nevada
North Carolina
Oklahoma
South Carolina
Utah
Virginia

Yes, Illinois, so well-known for Abraham Lincoln and, uh, let’s see, of course, Barack Obama – joined the “Potty People”, who were aghast at the thought that women and men would have to share the same restrooms under the ERA. That never happens at home, does it? Or the folks who said that women were not genetically equipped for leadership or combat positions in war. That should have been a laugher then in the 1970’s. And now, post-Petraeus and every other big head/little head male leader, it appears that only women are qualified to be in charge in war zones. And yes, Virginia, it was time for gender equality in the 1970’s and it’s still the right thing to do.

So as we hear political commentators tell us that gay marriage is the last big civil rights issue for this country, please say: “Oh no. We have some unfinished business with the ERA. Let’s guarantee equality for women.”  Because even if you gain the right to marry as a gay woman, you’ll still earn just 72 cents for every dollar earned by a man, straight or gay. And you’ll still have “glass ceilings” and the “old boys network” to contend with. You’ll still be the brightest, most capable candidate for the Presidency and lose in your own party – even other women will choose the male candidate over you, especially if it means advancing the cause of African-Americans. After all, what could be more noble than to elect the first African-American President of the United States? Oh, I don’t know, at least equally noble would be electing the first woman President of the United States? There are a lot of women out there, my age and younger, who have held the dream of being the first woman President. I know I had that goal for years. My sister signed her fourth grade picture “To the First Woman President”. I treasured that validation within my own family. By the time I was finishing college, I had set my sights a little lower, being the first woman Governor of a relatively small state. And by the time I was in the legal profession for a decade, I aimed to be the first woman Superior Court judge in Monterey County. That “first” went to another woman, but I like to think that as more and more of us set our sights on being the “first”, as a group of uppity women we had enough force to break down the walls of sex discrimination in the corridors of power. So if you have a daughter, a niece, a granddaughter or a young girl that looks up to you, teach them the long, proud history of women’s struggle for equality and help them aim for their own “firsts” in positions previously denied them. There are still plenty left.

OMG, that was indeed a very long rant. Take a deep breath. Grab some coffee or tea. Maybe warm milk would be more soothing. Or vodka, straight up. About guns: They kill people very, very quickly, when they are assault weapons with obscenely large magazines. That is what they are designed for. Where is it written in the Constitution that every person should have a personal semi-automatic assault weapon and hundreds of lethal non-pass-through bullets for his or her very own? Time to roll over in your graves again, drafters of the Constitution. What “arms” were around at the time of the passage of the Second Amendment? Certainly not assault rifles like the Bushmaster used at the Newtown elementary school. And hey, if you can fit a nuclear device into a firearm, is it your God given right under the Second Amendment to own it? Imagine the massacres we would weep over then – and do nothing? Do nothing? Not an option. “If assault weapons are banned, only criminals will have assault weapons.” Well, duh, of course, because it would be illegal to own or possess assault weapons.

And it’s not the “criminals” who are going on the mass shooting sprees of innocents. It’s the “troubled young man” with no criminal record. So, Mamas and Papas, if you own or possess a “troubled young man”, it would be a very good idea NOT to own or possess any weapons, especially firearms. It would also be a good idea not to encourage this “troubled young man” to go to target practice and to learn how to shoot a weapon of mass destruction. This is simple common sense. Dianne Feinstein’s proposed legislation – which would revive the law introduced by her and enacted many years ago – is a good start at the national level. This country did not suffer during the years of her federal anti-assault weapons ban. Hunters continued to hunt. People continued to protect themselves and their homes. Everyone who wanted a gun could get one – just not one designed exclusively to kill other people. Heck, in Virginia you could buy a new gun every month. Are twelve guns a year enough to fully exercise your Second Amendment rights?  So please remember, not all guns are equal – there are guns we use to hunt animals for food and guns we use to protect ourselves, and then there are guns that are used solely to kill people – very fast. We need to outlaw the fast, people-killing guns. If you have been using those types of rapid fire assault weapons to go deer hunting, then you are clearly not a sportsman, as any sane person defines that word.  You are probably mentally deficient or downright deranged. Sorry, but someone had to tell you. Try a bow and arrow – make hunting the challenge it is supposed to be, if you must kill Bambi. Or try “shooting” Bambi with a digital camera. One picture of a beautiful, live dear is worth a thousand dead deer.

Now where were we? Oh yes, when I returned to Slow Motion at the Thunderbolt Marina, I was perhaps a little pudgy, as I ate my way across country. I had filled a small container with the baked goodies Sue and I made. Those Tollhouse cookies hit the spot for dinner on the run at the Atlanta Airport. But yesterday, Monday, the Admiral and I went to Fort Pulaski, where we walked around the outside perimeter of the entire fort, then entered it and walked around the inside perimeter. Fort Pulaski was taken by 150 Confederate soldiers from 2 Union soldiers near the start of the Civil War. In April, 1862, Union soldiers under Gen. David Hunter captured Fort Pulaski after 30 hours of bombarding the fort with “rifled” guns and cannons that effectively destroyed the thick brick walls of the fort. And the Confederate leader, a twenty five year old colonel (Olmstead) surrendered rather than have all of his men killed. So in the capture of Ft. Pulaski, one Union soldier lost his life and several Confederate soldiers were wounded. And that was a battle in a WAR. Human life was precious, and this wise beyond his years Colonel Olmstead placed the value of human life over a Pyrrhic victory or a massacre. Bravo!

The Union General, David Hunter, was no slouch either, when it came to humanitarian deeds. After capturing Fort Pulaski, he issued General Orders No. 7, which freed the slaves inside the fort and on Cockspur Island. Later, he extended No. 7 to emancipate all slaves to South Carolina, Florida and Georgia. Not one to be upstaged, President Lincoln (remember how noble he appears to be in all our history books and movies?) rescinded the order – it was premature, and besides, if anyone was going to free the slaves and take credit for it, the President was the one who wanted that to be his legacy, not General David Hunter’s. Historians say that General Hunter’s pre-emptive emancipation order probably “pushed” President Lincoln to issue his own Emancipation Proclamation sooner than he had planned. So hurray for General Hunter!

Fort Pulaski is a brick mason’s Taj Mahal. The brick work is wonderful to behold. There are shapely brick arches everywhere, and you wonder how the masons were able to fashion the bricks to fit those angles and make each arch a work of art. The outside walls still have the large craters made by the Union guns and cannons. General Robert E. Lee made the original design for the Fort, but he gave Col. Olmstead bad advice on where to place most of firepower inside the fort. The Union came at the fort from a different direction. Still, minimal loss of life and limb occurred, thanks to Col. Olmstead. The Confederate soldiers were transported to a military prison up north. Later in the war, some Confederate prisoners of war were “jailed” at Fort Pulaski, where the conditions were close to abominable and thirteen of the prisoners died in captivity. So while the Union guns didn’t harm many soldiers at the fort, the maltreatment in the fort’s prison camp took its toll.  The National Park Service cares for Fort Pulaski today, and they provide an informative 18 minute film, as well as guided tours of the fort throughout the day. It’s well worth a visit. For a Northerner, it’s still jarring to hear “Dixie” played at the end of the film, as though it were the national anthem, but otherwise a rewarding experience.

Near Fort Pulaski and Cockspur Island is Tybee Island, a summer resort for Georgians. Both Islands are on the Savannah River and very close to the City of Savannah. We visited Tybee Island’s beach, which looked abandoned. The sea gulls followed us like hawks, hoping for a handout. There were some shells high up on the beach left over from the high tides of Sandy. And then the rain came. So we scurried back to the car and drove in search of a barber for the Admiral. The last cut of his mane was done by the bald-headed Barber John in Prince Frederick Maryland in September. So the Admiral was looking pretty shaggy. As luck would have it, Tybee Island has THE BEST BARBER SHOP IN THE ENTIRE WESTERN WORLD. The shop is in a little house that is painted just like a barber pole, red white and blue. And there is a barber pole as well. Inside there are two chairs. One was occupied, and the other one beckoned the Admiral. The barber asked him what kind of a cut he wanted, and I interjected: “Just like the barber’s.” You could tell that this man was fastidious and he had the best haircut. He allowed that the Admiral had a lot more hair than he did, but he would make the Admiral “look respectable again.” And that he did. It was lovely to behold, as he carefully shaped, trimmed, shaved and wetted the Admiral’s unruly locks. Indeed, at the completion of this tour de force in barbering the Admiral looked “respectable”, according to his barber. Are you ready for the cost? Fifteen dollars. The Admiral nearly fell asleep during the 45 minutes he was in the chair, with the master barber making soothing cuts and massage-combing his hair. You can’t get anything else that feels that good for fifteen dollars.

So if you made it through the political rants, you have come to a much calmer place with me – the heavenly barber shop on Tybee Island, Georgia. I recommend it highly. Wonder if he cuts women’s hair? 

We’re leaving Thunderbolt Marina tomorrow and heading straight to Hell Gate. The next Blog should be about our hair-raising experiences on the waterway, which is interdenominational and can be enjoyed by all persons of all political persuasions. I must admit, however, I do feel better after expressing a few of my deeply felt opinions and beliefs.  And I’m sure these opinions come as no surprise to those of you who know me. Agree or disagree, but get involved. Support what you believe in – passionately.