Category: Jane’s Posts

Sourpuss

Tootling ’round town today, happy as a clam, perhaps even happier, in my trusty 2cc, I was listening to NPR, which I like to think of as “Culture on the Go!” Does anyone listen to the radio whilst stationary? Rhetorical; I’m sure many do, however, I am not of that persuasion. The radio means the smell of the asphalt and the wind in my hair. Well truly, the wind in the scarf that covers my hair. At any rate, the road represents “freedom” to me, a freedom not felt whilst in the confines of my own home. Perhaps it was all those years being constricted by my late husband, Otto.

Where was I?…

Oh yes, road, 2cc, NPR…Well, there I was. And on came the most fascinating piece.

Sandor Ellix Katz, quite the name, was chatting about fermentation. Of food. He is a, or possibly, the, “fermentation revivalist.” His exploration and experimentation in the area of food preservation is seemingly encyclopedic. He has written a couple of volumes on the subject, his latest being “The Art of Fermentation: An In-Depth Exploration of Essential Concepts.” Well la-di-da say I, in the most reverent way possible. If you are going to love a subject, I say, love it to the depths of your soul. And he certainly has. Perhaps this is what comes of being a Jew in Tennessee; one can only speculate. But yes, preservation!

Well, you all know, or should, that I am fascinated by anything to do with preservation. I love old books, papers, furniture, my 2cc, myself… To that preservationist end, I am currently soaking my face in a tub full of vinegar. This is not something Mr. Katz recommends, but I thought, “Why the heck not?” At the very least, it is refreshing, and allows me some quiet, albeit wet, time to share with all of you. The burning in my eyes is but a small price to pay for our wonderful time together!

I am very glad, however, that I invested in that waterproof and, it seems, vinegar-proof, case for my cellular telephone on which I am writing this entry. Frivolous then, prescient now.

Should you be interested in more information on Mr. Katz and his fermented life, you may follow this link: Wild Fermentation.

Oh my, my hands have gotten quite prune-y, and I’ve become overtaken by a strong desire for salad. Time to say, “Bye” for the while. Until next time we meet, here’s a thought: Try to live each day with a little more kindness than the day before. It’s just a thought.

Love, Jane

Procedure

Dear friends! Jane has returned.

I must apologize for my absence, but it was a necessary one. You see, it seems I had broken my funny bone. Or at least strained it in an extremely torturous fashion.

I had been watching too much news: the world, the earth, our politics. And then one day, I felt it go. Oops, and ouch. My eyes glazed over and I became numb. Well, not actually numb; that’s what one got after one of Mr. Capote’s soirées. It felt more like being trapped in a very small room with many people you really don’t care for, and you simply can’t find the door. All you want to do is scream, “Let me out!” And, of course, no one does, let you out, or listen to your plea, so your anger grows and grows. But the room is so very small that there is no where for it to go. So you shut down; you withdraw, you close up shop for the night, or for however long it takes you to find a way out of that tiny dungeon. With your broken funny bone flailing along uselessly by your side. Actually, that is how I always felt at Truman’s. Anyway…

I have led a very free life. I have led a life of “don’t bother them and they won’t bother you.” It’s what I grew up expecting from the world; I suppose this is what happens when you cocoon in the soft silk of like-thinkers. Not that my eyes, ears, and mind were closed to what was going on around me. No, not at all. I am ever diligent; ever amused, and yes, I’ve tried to live my life as, well, an example. Some would say an example not to be emulated, but an example nonetheless.

You see, I believe that people are at heart good. That the ladies and gentlemen of the world have better things to do than to worry over other people’s lives. The rise of the politically correct movement and reality television should have been my clues that this belief was, if not wrong, at least not wholly right.

Of course, reality television is entertaining. Well, some of it is. We get to forget our own chaotic lives for a moment and be o’er-washed by other people’s chaotic lives, which, for broadcast purposes, are generally, and hopefully, far more chaotic than our own. But it does have the insidious tendency to allow us to feel free to judge. To feel better than. To look down upon. To, in the end, dehumanize our fellow human beings. And how can that not carry over to our “real” lives.

It seems we’ve become a nation of snippy little grannies with too much time on our hands. We seem to miss the irony of being judgmental of others whilst ignoring our own foibles. We all have foibles; I’ve got a box full. On a shelf. Labeled “Box of foibles; always room for more.” This is what is lovely about the human animal: We are fallible. Leave perfection to the Gods, or to God, or fate, or to whomever or whatever you choose to believe in.

And then there is politics. I have been alive a very long time (I sense the smirk; I carry my years wonderfully), and I can honestly say, as have many others, this is not a new thought I’m expressing, I’m simply expressing it in my own fashion, that I have never in my life seen a time when people were so divided, and so divisive. We have become a nation of black and white, and of course, there are many shades missing from that particular view of the spectrum.

And really, I do believe that the politically correct movement started that ugly ball rolling down a very steep hill.

Political correctness is, in and of itself, a lovely idea. Communism is, in and of itself, a lovely idea. Fried ice cream is, of itself, a lovely idea. But the practice, the reality, of these things is where things can get pretty messy (especially in the case of fried ice cream).

When the PC craze started, happy day!, we were to be aware of other peoples feelings, religions, beliefs, what have you. It was an ideology that was to make us more empathetic to, with, I’m never sure, our fellow human beings. Unfortunately, what is did was to create a legion of snitches, snipes, and overprotective whiners who were more interested in what other people were doing than in their own doings, all in the guise of “doing good.” It was, is, like being in a giant nursery where everyone weeps and wails, and no one takes responsibility for themselves, being, of course, too busy worrying about the others.

And then this latest political season hit, and I truly mean hit. Like with a big nanny stick. And I mean no disparagement to grandmothers everywhere; I could have been one myself. But I am not.

Watching these gentlemen and ladies turn the waa-waa tables; it has been a masterclass in, to use the political parlance, “spin.” There is no way to think, act, believe, other than what they espouse. If you do think, act, believe otherwise, and this is the rich and horrible part, you are treading on their rights.

I wake up each morning and I go out into the world with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. At no point in my day, do I expect people to agree with me, or even to like me. If they do, that’s grand. If they don’t, that’s grand, too. Live and let live. Enjoy your day. You hate people who are different than you, fine, I’ll give you a chance, try to see what makes you tick, have a little lively conversation. If at the end of the conversation, not argument, not shouting hysterics, conversation, if then you still strongly believe that you are somehow better, more entitled to your opinions than I am to mine, again, fine. Go off, carry your beliefs proudly, just don’t try to foist them on me with violence or legislation. I probably won’t like you, but so what, you probably won’t like me either. The world is a big place with room enough for all of us. As my dear late friend Bob used to say, “That’s what makes the phone book.” It seems, however, that some people out there won’t be happy until “John Smith” is the only name in that book, endless repeated over and over, page after page.

And perhaps, I need to put another ice pack on that funny bone of mine.

Be well, my friends. Try each day to look at the beauty and peace that is all around you, instead of the fear and hatred that is being thrown like tear gas into a loving world.

And don’t forget that I, and the rest of the ladies are back on the air, live, on Wednesday, May 16th at 9pm! Thank you BCTV for picking us up!

Love, Jane

Anticipation

Well darlings, the premier of That’s What She Said! was a delightful success! I couldn’t have been happier. Nor could I have been prouder of our work; Ellen, Christina, Martha, Sheila, and indeed, I, too, rose to the occasion with bells on.

And now, we wait for word from BCTV of our fate. It is in the hands of the program committee, which will meet *sigh* at the end of the month. This schedule, alas, means that, when we are picked up, which I can’t imagine not happening, we will not have another episode until March. It seems so long a wait to sit and gab with my favorite ladies again.

By the way, if you saw the show, let us know what you thought! We’d love to hear your comments. Also, if you liked the show, please let the good folks at BCTV know; every little bit helps in the effort to get back into your living rooms!

On a more universal note, I was listening to Talk of the Nation on NPR today. They were featuring a writer, Rodger Jones from the Dallas Morning Star, who had written an Op-Ed piece on the Komen/Planned Parenthood controversy. Something he said got my dander up. Well, many things he said did that, but the insidious manipulation of one of his statements took the cake. He said – in the interview – that he didn’t understand why PP “needs to tether the abortion part of its business so closely as it does, to everything else it does considering the explosiveness of the issue for so many people.”

Abortion is merely a small part of the vast scope of services that Planned Parenthood Parenthood offers. Women’s general health is a far more expansive part of their services. Many low-income women, in our land of prohibitively expensive health care, would be in bad shape, indeed, if PP was not there to fill in that health care gap.

I would say, and indeed, do say, that if anyone is focusing on, tethering to, PP’s abortion services, it is Rodger Jones and his judgemental ilk. It is like someone who doesn’t like chocolate ice cream saying, “Why does Bryers promote their disgusting chocolate flavor more strongly than the other, good, flavors?” Well, darling, they don’t; you’re just obsessing.

I am not here to say whether abortion is wrong or right. That is a choice I can only make for myself. But that is the point, I should be free to make it and to act on it; it is my body, my life. When society and government start controlling choice in the name of virtue, my dears, we are in for a very bad time of it.

But moving on, what about those Giants? While I would rather look at Mr. Brady over Mr. Manning…well not over him, compared to him, I mean…I am a New York girl at heart! May the Mets be the next NY team to prevail! (Well, what’s life without a dream?)

And so, we wait…for the baseball season to begin, for a less judgmental mindset in our country, but most importantly, we wait eagerly for a green light to proceed from our friends at BCTV. Stay tuned…

Love, Jane

Countdown!

Well, my darlings, the countdown is on! In a little over twenty-four hours, the gals and I will be coming into your home live!

I am very proud of our little group: Ellen, Sheila, Martha, Christina, me, and the boy in the background, our Producer, Jamie. Together, we are going to shake up this little burg, and revitalize the airwaves!

Speaking of Jamie, he has prepared a special video road trip featuring yours truly. Where’d we go? You’ll have to tune in to find out.

And where, oh, where does one tune in? Why BCTV of course. And if your cable operator doesn’t carry that channel – or if you have no cable operator – you can stream the show live at BCTV.org. It will also be available in the BCTV archives for viewing several days after the broadcast.

So darlings, tune in to BCTV tomorrow night, Tuesday, 1/31 at 7pm for our premier episode of That’s What She Said!

As an old friend once said, “Who’d miss that?”

Love, Jane

Taking It Back

Ok, darlings. I am finding it evermore difficult to hold my tongue during this barrage of political yammering that is the Republican nomination season. And so…

For several years now, and ever-increasingly during this political maelstrom, I keep hearing that “we need to take our country back”.

My goodness, “back” from what, exactly?

As I look over the history of this country, what has made us strong, vibrant, and desirable (much like me) is our growth, adaptation; our desire to, and for, progress. And now, it would seem, listening to the rhetoric being blasted all around us like piercing shrapnel, we have progressed too far; we need to go back, we need to stop this bold march into the future and return to the values and ideals that “made America great!”

This seems a conundrum. Well, not so much a conundrum as simply misinformed blather. How can we return to what made us a shining example for all the world – albeit lately somewhat tarnished – when what made us great was our desire for progress? How does one go back to go forward? Well, I suppose it is a conundrum. And one that hasn’t been addressed at all in this season of condemnation.

Call me crazy – and many have – but I like my right to vote, my ability to choose what I do with my body. I like to know that the food I eat is reasonably safe to eat; that there is some attempt to assure that the air I breathe is relatively non-toxic. I am comforted by the fact that, while not perfect, our education system is not just a crazy quilt of philosophies and methodologies. I like that I have friends of many varied beliefs, religions, orientations, and pet preferences. And I like that we all have the right to be different; to march to our own drumbeat; to follow our own path.

And that is what made America great; the ability to be who we are without interference. And sometimes, paradoxically, one has to implement controls in order to make sure those freedoms are not trampled upon. Yes, darlings, sometimes we need rules in order to be free; wrap your head around it: even chaos has an order.

When I hear these folks running for office say they want less government interference, it seems to me what they are really saying is that they want greater ability to interfere without restriction or consequence.

And that, my dears, would be a truly frightening step backward in the progress of this great country of ours. Regression is for cowards; progress is what keeps us alive. And I, for one, love being alive!

Love, Jane

 

Re-entry

Oh heavens to Gershwin… I have just removed my sleep mask and peered blearily at my alarm clock…I am horrified to discover that I have been out like a sailor with a weeks pay since the wee hours of New Year’s Day 2012!

How did I know the day from looking at the clock, you wonder, and your confusion would be indeed justified. Well, my sly little pusses, there you have me. I was condensing for dramatic effect! The truth is that upon waking and looking at the clock, I thought to myself, “Heavens, I’ve overslept! I’ve missed part of the Rose Bowl parade!”

So I hopped, or rather unfurled, out of bed, started a pot of extra-strong Joe, grabbed the paper…s. Paper…s? Was there a special extra New Year’s Day edition?, I wondered. Paper…s? And then it started to dawn that something was amiss. The Eagles had landed in too great an abundance. There, in my, now ink-stained, hands was the proof: I had been locked in Morpheus’s embrace since my New-Year’s-Eve-into-New-Year’s-Morn Bacchanalia had come to a crashing, and I realize now, unremembered, finis. Days, of – it now seems required – sleep-filled recovery, had passed! And here it is, Tuesday, and I have missed not only my beloved Rose Bowl Parade, but my Monday posting here!

And now, although there is no way to reset the clock and watch those millions of flowers roll by, I can write of my surprise, and chagrin, at having missed my posting day (and several others), but I live happily knowing that my dear friend Ellen will not mind splitting and sharing her day with me.

Yes, it is a Tuesday with double helping of the ladies of TWSS! And I am sure I speak for us all when I say, “Happy New Year! May you find new mountains to climb, and new comforts to enjoy! Happy 2012!” (Though I am still bitter about the parade…)

Love, Jane

Oh, New Year!

Happy New Year Darlings!

My goodness! 2011 is almost a memory and, if we are to believe the scuttlebutt, the last year of our lives is about to begin! I say, “I’ll drink to that!”

Let’s all resolve to enjoy this wacky trip toward the end of the world. Live each day with gusto; drink in every last drop of possibility from every moment that you are alive.

Let’s all work together to make this next year the best year of of lives! Why shouldn’t we? Optimism is so much more productive, and fun, than the alternative.

Be bold, exciting, be a positive force to be reckoned with in 2012!

Happy New Year!

Love, Jane

Gratitude

The tree is trimmed. The presents are bought, although I do still have to make a few. The streets are alive with light; a warm carnival embrace. And I am happy to be alive. And I am filled with love and gratitude to all my dear friends for the love they show me. My heart swells to bursting with happiness and life.

There truly is something magical about this season. Some special sparkle in the air that makes us a bit more open, a bit more caring. Perhaps it’s the eggnog, the Southern Comfort, the sugar high from one too many tasty Tollhouses or succulent sandtarts. But I don’t think so. I think it’s something in us, some shared knowledge, desire, need, to feel closer to the ones we love, and even to the ones we don’t even know.

Perhaps we carry it from our earliest of days, when there were no explanations, no sciences to take away our fear of the early fading of the light, the killing frost, as we huddled around fires of warmth and protection; of life.

Perhaps we need to feel that fear from time to time to rekindle the fire of our own humanity. And we should be happy that no matter how smart we become, some tiny reptilian part of our over-wise noggins still retains that wonder as we look up at the darkening sky with its multitude of tiny lights and we feel small in the face of it, and also magnified; we feel a need for kinship, for sharing, for redemption.

Or perhaps it is just the eggnog.

Have a Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, a Blessed Yule. I hope someone holds you in their arms and shares their warmth, if even for a moment.

Love, Jane

That’s What She Said – The Show!

It is Monday, so I get to relate some very exciting news.

It is official: Tune in to BCTV on Tuesday, January 31st to see we five ladies live on the small screen. Yes, we’re going live in just over a month!

And if you aren’t near a television have no fear, the show will be streamed live at BCTV.org. We’ll be international!

And if you miss it that evening…well, you are not out of luck! The show will be replayed on the station, and also archived on the site! I have no idea how these things happen, but trust me, they do. It is magic, and Martha, Christina, Ellen, Sheila, and I are excited to be a part of that magic!

So my dears, we’ll keep on blogging, you keep on reading, and before you know it, we’ll be popping into your living rooms, dens, and bedrooms! Electronically, of course.

Have a wonderful week, my dears!

Love, Jane

Cold

Hello kids. Jane is going to be less than her usual verbose self this week, as she is feeling a bit under the weather. Yes, it seems unthinkable that the bastion of inner strength that is I, could ever be taken down by a simple cold. But there it is, sitting on me like a wet blanket on a lovely party.

Speaking of lovely parties, a little bird tells me something wonderful is in the offing, but the big bird of authority hasn’t yet sent notice of this rumor’s veracity, so you all will have to content yourselves with that little teaser.

I just cracked myself up, that is exactly what I used to call dear friend Jackson: “Little Teaser”! Oh dear Lord, laughing with this chest full of distasteful gunk is not a pleasant experience; a paradox, that, well not really a paradox, more of an irony, but not that either…well never mind. My mind is awhirl with médicaments contre le rhume, cold medicine, but it sounds so much more intriguing en Français. And I’m particularly adept at the phlegmy “rh” sound just at this moment; I wish you all could hear it!

But perhaps not.

I’m babbling, I believe. Blame the meds, darlings! I’m as woozy as a musician with a paycheck.

I should go…Have a lovely week. Think healing thoughts for me, and for yourselves; we need all our fortitude during this last, desperate run-up to the holidays. “Seigneur nous donne la force“, as they say on the Champs Élysée!

…Here’s hoping my head is not floating several feet o’er my body when next we meet.

Love, Jane