In the Headlights

WOTD: Bowdlerize

  There have never been a shortage of people willing to decide what was good for other people.  We see it today in censors of movies and music, even talk radio.

We still have people trying to decide what books are acceptable to have shelf space in a library.

From the 1930's well into the 1960's, the Hays Code was in effect, deciding what was and what was not okay for the American public to see at the movies. Among their rules:  ridicule of religion was forbidden, as well as depicting ministers as comic characters or villains, nudity or sex, or perversion or depictions of childbirth were forbidden, and adultery and illicit sex could not be explicit, justified or presented as an attractive option.

The word "bowdlerize" entered our language as the result of one man's efforts to make things more acceptable for the more delicate among us:  women and children.  Thomas Bowdler was an English editor who in 1818 published an expurgated version of Shakespeare's works "in which those works and expressions are omitted which cannot with propriety be read aloud in a family."

Bowdler remembered his father reading Shakespeare aloud when he was a child, and on rereading it years later realized that his father had edited it while he read.  Bowdler did the same for others, saying that not a word was added, but of course, many were removed. 

Bowdler also published expurgated versions of parts of the Old Testament and Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire.

His Shakespeare version was popular enough to be reprinted in a number of editions.

Social Anxiety

The other day, during a dance lesson, my instructor, Tom, asked me if I'd ever heard of "fear of blushing".  I never had, but we talked a bit about social phobias in general.

Mine is public speaking.  I hate it, it makes me sweat (and I hate that too) and stammer, and even panic.  I have to do it now and then, but I move heaven and earth in trying to avoid it.  Panic attacks are a bit different:  I've had a couple related to my fear of heights (acrophobia).

Fear of blushing is called erythrophobia, and has been classified as a psychosomatic disorder.  Not only does the victim blush at the slightest provocation, but they decrease human contact in avoidance of the embarrassment of what they perceive as inappropriate blushing, avoid situations that might induce blushing, and have feelings of guilt and shame associated with the blushing.

Social anxieties or social phobias run the gamut from mild to incapacitating, reflecting fear, apprehension or anxiety about social situations and being judged or eveluated by others.  The experience has physiological components (blushing, sweating, trembling, stammering), cognitive components (belief that one is being judged), and behavioral components (avoiding triggering situations).

Most people some social anxieties.  Those in whom they are debilitating can be treated with cognitive behavioral therapy or a class of drugs called antidepressants (particularly, selective seretonin reuptake inhibitors like Zoloft or Prozac).

[Illustration from the Media Technology Research Centre]

Rosa Villa, Street Artist

A lot of sidewalk art by Julian Beever has been circulated through the internet and email.  Until she came to our town for an art festival, I'd never heard of Rosa Villa, although her home is only two hours away, in Orlando.

Whereas Beeman creates three dimesional illusions, Villa reproduces classical paintings and masterworks.  She began her career in Italy, and in 1997, moved from Milan to Orlando when Disney hired her as an artist for the Italian Pavillion at Epcot Center.

In addition to holding degrees in set design, photography, advertising and art instruction, Villa is a trained fashion designer.

She does chalk art at festivals a couple of times a year.  She also uses fabric, watercolor, acrylic, pencil and mosaics in her creations.

The street paintings are about seven feet in length and can take up to twenty hours to make.  The paintings are then fixed with hairspray.  Sadly, it won't protect against a Spring rain or foot traffic.  Fortunately, there is photography.

In addition to her corporate work, Villa is available for commissions.  Most of the information on this page, as well as the illustrations are from her site.  You can find information there about hiring her, as well.

Strawberry Chiffon Pie

I made these pies for my bridge group Saturday.  They are easy to make, and delicious.

The recipe makes two 9" pies.

2 premade graham cracker crusts
3 pints ripe strawberries
1 cup sugar
2 envelopes unflavored gelatin
2 cups heavy cream

Heat oven and bake crusts according to instructions.

Hull and rinse strawberries.  Set aside 6-7 beautiful berries for decoration.

Puree remaining berries in the bowl of a food processor.  Add 1/2 cup of the sugar.  Taste for sweetness. 

Soften gelatin in 2 ounces of water.  Microwave about 30 seconds and stir.  Repeat until gelatin mixture is clear and liquid.

Turn on food processor and add gelatin liquid until fully incorporated.

Beat cream and 1/2 cup sugar.  Taste for sweetness.  Fold strawberry mixture into whipped cream.  Pour into prepared pie shells decorate as desired with remaining strawberries.  Refrigerate until firm.

O Valencia!

I listened (again) to The Crane Wife by The Decemberists while I was cooking for Easter.  As so often happens with this CD, one song has stuck in my head ever since:  O Valencia!

The song reminds me of West Side Story, which is, of course, on the theme of Romeo and Juliet:  Young lovers who are tied to rival factions or families.  But this one doesn't end as West Side Story and Romeo and Juliet, with sad realization of the folly of the feud, but with further resolution of mayhem.  You'll see it in the lyrics from O Valencia!:

You belong to the gang
And you say you can't break away
But I'm here with my hands on my heart

Our families can't agree
I'm your brother's sworn enemy
But I'll shout out my love to the stars

So wait for the stone on your window, your window
Wait by the car and we'll go, we'll go

When first we laid eyes
I swore to no compromise
'Til I felt my caress on your skin

Well, how soon we were betrayed
Your sister gave us away
And your father came all unhinged

So wait for the stone on your window, your window
Wait by the car and we'll go, we'll go

O Valencia!
With your blood still warm on the ground
Valencia! 
And I swear to the stars
I'll burn this whole city down

All I heard was a shout
Of your brother calling me out
And you ran like a fool to my side

Well, the shot, it hit hard
And your frame went limp in my arms
And the lull of love was your dying cry

So wait for the stone on your window, your window
Wait by the car and we'll go, we'll go

O Valencia! 
With your blood still warm on the ground
Valencia
And I'll burn this whole city down
Valencia
With your blood still warm on the ground
Valencia
And I swear to the stars
I'll burn this whole city down

I think it's much more powerful with the music, so please listen for the full effect.

The pain is palpable. The music is haunting too. 

*   *   *   *   *

The phenomenon of passing on a song that is stuck in your head is jukebox sabotage, according to Urban Dictionary.  Hopefully, I am thus passing this song on to you, reader, and out of my head.  For a while, at least.

The Ides of Taxes are Upon You

The ides of taxes are upon you,

All the live long day.

The ides of taxes are upon you,

You cannot get away.

Do not think you can escape them,

At night, or early in the morn'.

The ides of taxes are upon you,

'Till Gabriel blows his horn!

A month ago, I did a post on the Ides of March, the day Julius Caesar was assassinated.  The Roman calendar was a lunar calendar, and the Ides fell on the full moon.  Unfortunately for this post,  in April, the Ides is the 13th. 

The good news:  Some of you have a couple of extra days to get that money to the IRS:  The 15th is on a Sunday, and Monday the 16th is, in some states, a holiday:  Patriot's Day.   This day is a holiday in Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New York, Vermont and the District of Columbia.  If you live in one of those places, you have until midnight on Tuesday, the 17th to get those tax returns postmarked.

[Shamelessly adapted from "The Eyes of Texas are Upon You"]

[I found the image on No Government Cheese]

Fierce Food

Last week, I heard an interview with Christa Weil, author of Fierce Food:  The Intrepid Diner's Guide to the Unusual, Exotic, and Downright Bizarre.

Weil feels that we should escape from the comfort of the ordinary (i.e. "comfort food"), as she takes us through a tour of some unusual, and some downright disgusting dishes.  She's tasted most of them.  Presumably sober.  The thought is that the more squeamish among us can experience this vicariously.  Thank goodness.

She mentioned in her interview that she gets the same rush from eating repulsive food that she does from pushing the envelope physically.  Ms. Weil is a triathlete and climber who knows about adrenaline rushes.  In fact, "fierce food turns eating into a form of extreme sport, in which we face our misgivings and dare to plunge into the unknown" she declares.

Now, you are either an adrenaline junkie or you're not.  I'm in the latter group.  The adrenaline rush that many seek makes me uncomfortable.  This is not to say I don't stick my neck out now and then, try something new, or eat a new food  (if it's repulsive, it may require a couple of drinks up front.  That's how I tried my first snail.)  For me, this is the perfect compromise.  I may not eat any of the stuff she writes about, but I sure can read about it.

Meanwhile, here's some not so fierce food:

[Playing with your food images shared with us by Glo and L.C.  Thanks.]

Potato and Rosemary Bake

We were having ham for Easter dinner, and my Mom was bringing her cauliflower au gratin as a side dish.  I was in charge of potatoes, salad and dessert.  With all that  rich food, I didn't want to make a heavy potato dish as well.  This is what I came up with.  It's low fat except for some olive oil, but moist and flavorful.

3 baking potatoes, peeled and sliced into 1/8" slices
3 sweet potatoes, peeled and sliced into 1/8" slices
3 medium onions, sliced thin
14 ounces canned chicken broth
several sprigs of rosemary
olive oil

Prepare potatoes and onions. (I submerged the potatoes and sweet potatoes in salt water after peeling them to prevent discoloration.)

Preheat oven to 350.  Grease a medium-sized casserole with oil or cooking spray. Layer potatoes into casserole dish.  I put alternating rows of white and sweet potatoes, the first row flat, and other rows angled leaning on the previous row.

Scatter onions over the top.  I slipped some in between the potatoes as well.  Pour chicken broth over potatoes.

Salt and pepper the top, then drizzle with olive oil.  Strip a few leaves from the rosemary and sprinkle over the potatoes.  Place the remaining branches over the top.

Bake at 350 degrees for one hour.  Remove the rosemary branches and serve.

 

Good Bye, Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut is dead.  It's not unexpected. He was 84 years old.  He sustained a bad fall a few weeks ago and sustained brain injuries.

More important is that a voice has been stilled. The well known humanist and humorist became the voice of conscience.   His anti-war stance was well known, his views forged by his experience of the bombing of Dresden and as a prisoner of war at the end of World War II.  Equal parts absurd, horrifying and funny, his novels resonated with the generation that next faced the war in Vietnam. 

In recent years, Vonnegut was an outspoken critic of the current administration.  Never politically correct, he always spoke his mind.

Sad that he is dead.  Tragic that such a voice is stilled.

Good-bye, Mr. Vonnegut.

So it goes.

Multiple Personalities

My real name is not particularly common.  So imagine my surprise when I found out there is someone else in town here with the same name.  We found out long ago, when I got phone calls intended for her, and after one angry call, we unlisted our phone number.  Then I discovered we were both members of the same YMCA.

Anyway, when L.C. sent me this site, I was intrigued.  How Many of Me will tell you how many of the 301,563,166 people in the United States have the same name as you (not counting middle names).

Here's my result.  There are 135,704 folks with the same first name, and 205,064 with the same last name.  Only 92 have the same first and last.

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 92 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

Find out for yourself.  Many of you are unique, others not so much.  I mean, I'm sure YOU are, but maybe your name isn't.  For instance, there are  49,799 John Smiths in the U.S., each one an individual like no other.

Or the site can just pick random names for you.  Entertaining, for a while, at least.

There are 46 folks in the U.S. with L.C.'s name.  Just half of mine.  I wonder what that means.