Livingston, I Presume

Boy jock

I remember standing next to the edge of what seemed an impossibly high play structure in Lion's Park willing myself to jump off. The goal? To break my leg. I was eight years old, and a broken leg sounded far less painful than another go-round with the Presidential Fitness Tests that were looming. If you're a graduate of any American public school, you'll know what I'm talking about. Six athletic events that will tell you--and everyone else--whether you are a Fit Winner! or a Fat Loser.

That I still remember all six--The Mile, the 50-yard dash, the shuttle run, the standing broad jump, the bent arm hang, and sit-ups--should tell you how indelibly the process is welded in my brain. Of the six, I could manage a good showing in sit-ups alone. My nemesis was The Mile--running four times around Lincoln School, trying to keep up with one of the "good" runners and failing miserably. I don't think I was ever anything but dead last. Built for speed I am not, and when that was combined with asthma, it's a wonder I didn't have the courage to follow through on the leg-breaking idea. The two weeks of testing in the fall and spring of each year were some of the most dreaded in my young life.

All of which is a long way of getting to the ironic bit. Connery came home from school yesterday in a state of high excitement, having taken part in his first-ever Presidential Fitness Contest (apparently it's a contest now, not a test). He scored in the top range on his first test--sit-ups--and was gunning for the top in the other events to come. "Not many first graders can get the award, but I think I can do it," he told me. "We get to run a mile!"

I am so relieved that he is excited about these tests. May it ever be thus. May he always be the kid who can finish strong. On the other hand, I am bemused to think of his joy in this movement when I contrast it with how terrible the very same events used to make me feel. Based on physical activity alone, Connery is no more "fit" than I was at his age. If anything, he may get a little less physical activity than I did simply because I was raised in the good ol', go-out-and-play 1970s. I did ballet and ice skating and basketball and martial arts and biking; he does soccer and basketball and scootering

The difference is that Connery is, most mysteriously, built like a miniature professional athlete. The kid's got washboard abs and visible muscles in his legs, arms, and shoulders--at 6! Despite his asthma, he can run for an hour and barely get winded. Watching him makes me question how he could be of my genetic material, akin perhaps to the person who can't carry a tune in a bucket seeing her child become an opera star.

So we'll train like he wants to. We'll go to the park and let him do pull-ups and measure out fifty yards and have him run back and forth. And I will never, ever let him know that he is freaking me out by succeeding in something that I never could.

Many happy returns

So, uh, did you all have a nice break? What a coincidence! So did I! Obviously, that whole Pita-making process wore me out more than I realized.

In neglecting to blog for more than a month, I completely missed getting to talk about how the U.S. is now totally a socialist utopia in the manner of Karl Marx and Adolf Hitler. All hail the Glorious Leader! In all seriousness, the un-hinged-ness of the opponents of the very modest healthcare reform is alarming. I'm going to go with NYT columnist Frank Rich here and say that it's not REALLY about the healthcare.

Also in national news, the ever-unbiased Heritage Foundation has found that the United States is less free on account of the whole socialist thing (H/T Gabriel Winant at Salon's War Room). Winant juxtaposed that alarming news with the report issued by left-wing propaganda machine Forbes.com that the average U.S. citizen pays more into Federal taxes than companies like GE and ExxonMobile do. Not a higher percentage, mind--a higher actual dollar amount:

"The most egregious example is General Electric ( GE - news - people ). Last year the conglomerate generated $10.3 billion in pretax income, but ended up owing nothing to Uncle Sam. In fact, it recorded a tax benefit of $1.1 billion.

Avoiding taxes is nothing new for General Electric. In 2008 its effective tax rate was 5.3%; in 2007 it was 15%. The marginal U.S. corporate rate is 35%."

Don't mind me. I'll just be over here paying my taxes, as required by law. Tell me again why I should shoulder a larger burden than a multi-national corporation? I'm just not getting it.

In personal news, we weathered spring break with a big assist from Nana and Papa, who hosted Connery for the first week (meaning that yes, there was more than one week involved!) of spring break. The best comment about this vacation came from a Tweet from thehighsign: "Looking forward to the end of Spring Break, also known as the Fortnight of Blithe Disregard for Parents' Jobs." Onward to the 13 Weeks of Bright, Sunshiny Disregard!

My brother and his wife had a beautiful baby boy named Kennedy, and we got to meet him when he was just four days old! Connery thought he was excellent, while Emerson thought he was competition.

Let's see. What else? We used part of our tax refund (thanks Exxon!) to rejoin the gym, and last night, I attended my first-ever Zumba class. I believe that Zumba is Spanish for "aerobics with better music and hilarious flailing about in a semi-rhythmic fashion, especially when your heritage is Northern European." It would be much better if the mirrors were on the ceiling, where you wouldn't have to look at them. It's hard to Zumba when you're concentrating most on avoiding a glimpse of your own pastiness in the ever-present wall mirrors.

If you've made it this far, you should be rewarded with some pictures of cute children. Luckily, I have a lot of those. Pictures, not children. You didn't miss that much.

 

Making pita no PITA

About a thousand years ago I printed out this step-by-step manual to making pita bread. Although I am a practiced baker, I haven't really ever attempted bread beyond those that include ripe bananas and chocolate chips. Yesterday, however, Connery and I set out on a pita-bread-making extravaganza, and I am pleased to say that it is just as easy as the site claims. You too can make pita bread at home! (Six-year-old baker's apprentice not included.)

Child labor is the best labor!

Baking on our ersatz hot stone (please ignore the oven condition)

 

Puffy pita goodness!

Pita is served!

Would you like some cheese with that ham?

Guest Post: The husband talks healthcare

NB: While many of us are content to let slide all manner of things on Facebook (third Mafia post today? HIDE), Chip occasionally uses social networking for educational purposes. Over the weekend he got into a very long exchange about healthcare after retweeting a sarcastic comment about the healthcare that Canadians enjoy. After many back-and-forths, this is his final word on the subject. Names have been removed, naturally.

Yes, I'm very passionate about this issue. I think it's because it wasn't until I moved to Montana that I got a real taste of what I expect the majority of people across the country have to deal with regarding health insurance. As I child I was a dependent of an active Army officer. During school, I rarely went to the doctor and when I did, it was covered by student health services. As a young professional out of graduate school, I had the advantage of being part of a union as a state employee in Massachusetts. And, in the Czech Republic, as I've explained, I was covered completely as a result of my legal alien work status.

When I moved to Montana, however, it quickly became apparent that working for a small business with no real buying/negotiating power--that is to say nearly ALL Montana companies--put its employees at a disadvantage. Some call it the "penalty for living in the last best place,'" but now I know that's just part of a carefully constructed communication plan to make employees feel better while they get the shaft.

While higher than in the U.S. of course, the Czech Republic has a relatively low tax rate comparatively. However, I saw the benefits of that slightly higher tax rate all around me. Besides healthcare, I could count on an on-time, clean public transportation system, an in-country and international train system that was reliable and on-time, a monthly stipend to help defray the costs associated with raising a child, a one-time payment for having a child--not to mention my wife's SWEET seven months of paid maternity leave--and, all those eligible for college are able to attend for free, allowing them, upon graduation, to not be saddled with thousands in debt at the beginning of their careers. Those are just a few examples.

The thing about taxes, for me at least, is being able to see what you get for the money. And, perhaps more importantly, in the U.S., what "invisible" taxes you are paying. In 2008, more than 20% of my family's income was used to pay for healthcare--both paying for the plan I was eligible for at work and the out-of-pocket costs forced on me by the plan. 2009 was better only because my son didn't have to spend a night in the hospital and we didn't have another baby like in 2008.

The American attitude about taxes has always flummoxed me. Personally, I like having public services. I like the idea of having well-paid emergency services personnel because when they aren't worried about making ends meet, they can pay attention to me in my time of need. I like the idea of well-groomed parks, clean streets, and sidewalks (don't even get me started on that local issue). Citizens want these services and they want them to run well but the short-term memory loss of how these things are paid for just kills me.

The same goes with healthcare. I agree that we have some of the best healthcare/facilities in the world. The immorality of it all is that only the privileged few have access to them. That's not what our country's foundations are set upon. Our notion of rugged individualism has started to bite us on the ass. A society, by definition, has elected to work toward a common set of goals. Our society, I believe, has lost sight of the fact that individuals in a society must work together for the common benefit of all; that we are part of system that must work together to succeed - not a collection of one-offs that have no relation to each other.

VD

Not that! Get your mind out of the gutter.

I want to write about Valentine's Day, that most maligned holiday. I know that as a committed cynic, I'm supposed to hate Valentine's Day. It's a greeting card company holiday designed to make us buy chocolate! It's cheesy! It's just on the calendar to support the florists!

All of that may be true, but that doesn't stop me from loving Valentine's Day. You know why? Because when I was growing up, it was never presented as a holiday exclusively for romantic love. My parents always made a big deal out of Valentine's Day. We had presents waiting for us at the breakfast table and special heart-shaped eggs and "I HEART YOU" made out of eggs, ham, and toast. Even during those years when it seemed like every other female on earth was getting roses from a boyfriend--and there were many of those years--I knew that there was more to love than flowers. Love from family matters, too.

That's why both of my kids will get up on Sunday to find presents at their plates. Because there are times in everyone's life when romantic love isn't happening, and before that becomes a Big Deal, I want my kids to know that their lives are meaningful even without chocolates from a special someone.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. And remember that love is love. And love is good.

Not very red, definitely not so menacing

There have been many spirited letters to the editor in the Bozeman Chronicle lately on the virtues of capitalism. As a counterpoint, some letter-writers have offered up the dangers of “European-style socialism” as the evil that could befall the United States if we deviate even slightly from our adherence to the invisible hand. From the way it sounds in the letters, the casual reader might infer that “European-style socialism” automatically results in bread lines, death panels and terrible, inevitable economic ruin. Plus we would all have to dress in black, read existentialist literature and smoke.

But you know, if the economies of Europe are in tatters, I have totally missed it. Wouldn’t there have been something about that on Twitter? Also, I have some friends in Europe, and they haven’t mentioned anything about bread lines or death panels. Are they too busy enjoying their four weeks of guaranteed paid vacation, generous maternity leave and single-payer healthcare to fill me in?

All sarcasm aside, I’m going to have to cite Paul Krugman on this, even though I know that some people believe that Krugman, a New York Times columnist and Nobel Prize- winning economist, is just a sickle short of a commie himself.

“The real lesson from Europe is actually the opposite of what conservatives claim,” he wrote in his column recently. “Europe is an economic success, and that success shows that social democracy works.”

After going through some statistics—per capita real G.D.P. growth in both places is virtually identical, employment rates in prime working ages (25 to 54) are almost the same, productivity is similar—and giving a full caveat that Europe is no utopia, Krugman nevertheless concludes that most of us have been sold a bill of goods when it comes to the Euro-zone economies.

“Europe is often held up as a cautionary tale, a demonstration that if you try to make the economy less brutal, to take better care of your fellow citizens when they’re down on their luck, you end up killing economic progress,” he wrote. “But what European experience actually demonstrates is the opposite: social justice and progress can go hand in hand.”

No system is perfect—not theirs and not ours and not anyone else’s—but to pretend that there is only one system out there that holds a shred of promise is not just intellectually dishonest. It’s plain false.

What’s more, it seems to me that the invisible hand of capitalism has been delivering more right hooks than fond caresses for a whole lot of Americans lately. Layoffs that would have resulted in months of severance in a European country come with scant weeks—if that. Medical bills that would have been paid in full under “socialized medicine” haunt millions of Americans. Ordinary American families have to find money for the childcare, eldercare and higher education expenses that a German or Belgian or Dane would expect to be well subsidized. It’s hard to see how those things could be considered evil.

I’d tell you to do as Krugman suggests and check with your own eyes how the reality of social democracy matches up with the hysterical rhetoric, but most of us can’t swing a trip to Europe just now. Especially since every Euro is worth $1.40 and, unlike our European brethren, we’re not guaranteed any paid vacation.

I write letters to healthcare providers

Dear Far-Away Specialist Clinic:

Thank you for your recent missive in which you express your appreciation for our months and months of prompt and steady payments. I can tell just by the way you type that it's heartfelt and sincere, though not as sincere as the next phrase, which indicates that our payments "do not meet the requirements of the [Redacted Far-Away Specialist Clinic] payment policy."

Frankly, I'm a little confused, since you set up the payments with me after I explained to you way back in June that my husband had been laid off. Seems to me that payments you set up should continue to satisfy your requirements. Guess not.

Your handwritten note (complete with highlighting for impact) explained that we should increase our monthly payments right away. We'll get right on that, because heaven knows you can't be without your $81.47. I would imagine that $81.47 is totally going to be the difference between keeping your lights on and shutting down completely.

You want your $81.47! I get it!

Luckily, just this week, my husband got a new job after eight long months of unemployment. I can only imagine the reaction this letter might have prompted in me last week. This week I can tell you without being a total itch-bay that we liquidated a retirement account a couple of weeks ago to pay off medical bills just like yours. So your check is in the mail.

I trust that you won't spend my $81.47 in one place.

Also, I invite you to suck it.

Yours sincerely,

Nicole

Some reservations, please?

Anthony Bourdain continued his tour of Places The Ritters Have Lived this week with an episode filmed in Prague. I thoroughly enjoyed all but the 10 minutes where he decided it was necessary that we witness wanton violence against pig parts. *shudder* In all, it was excellent to see so many places that we knew well (U Medviku, including the beloved Topinky!) and funny that we actually knew more places and people in the episode than we did in the one Bourdain filmed in Livingston last year.

During the pig dismemberment section, I was really torn. One the one hand, guts! I can't watch so much! Bleah! On the other hand, the piggatoir was being led by one Christopher Robertson, founder of Bacon.cz, who used to deliver English-style bacon and sausage directly to my apartment when he first launched. Pork delivery! For serious!

I see by visiting his website that he now has two shops in Prague. That is awesome. Because I remember going to the hair salon to pick up my bacon. The salon owner, a South African named Mark Phillip Gravell, loved Chris' products and served as an ersatz distribution center for the expats who lived in Vinohrady. I don't think anyone was ever not confused when I would mention that I had to go Hair by Mark Phillip to pick up some sausage.

But that's the way it was then, in the olden days of the early 2000s, in Prague. Expats still passed around culinary secrets like they were jewels, and you often had to leave the country to get the spices you wanted or certain ingredients. I totally smuggled in cheddar from Scotland and sun-dried tomatoes from Italy. It made it more fun somehow.

Seeing Anthony Bourdain wander around a place where it seems that all of that is available and more made me realize just how much things have probably changed since we left five years ago. At least U Medviku is still serving up lard-fried bread and rapid-fire beers. And the street sausages on Vaclavske Namesti still looked as disgusting as ever. Hopefully, some things will never change.

Explained

Via Sher comes this hilarious video that explains the birth of the kilt. Since it is, as Sher points out, Burns Night, and it is, as Melissa McEwan points out, finally legal again after 21 years to import a haggis from Scotland to the United States, I think it's appropriate:

I hope all of my Scots friends are enjoying a festive evening, with all the haggis they can...um...stomach?

Extra super duper majority

In the clip below, Jon Stewart perfectly encapsulates the seething rage I've felt as I've watched the Democratic majority squander its every opportunity to actually do something for fear of the Big Bad Filibuster. As you watch the fallout from the Massachusetts Parade of Suck (TM Looky Daddy), please keep in mind that the Democrats, even without Ted Kennedy's seat, have a larger majority than the Republicans ever did under George W. Bush, and then heed Jon Stewart's wise words:

"It's not that the Democrats are playing checkers and the Republicans are playing chess. It's that the Republicans are playing chess and the Democrats are in the nurse's office because once again they glued their balls to their thighs."

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