An Actor’s Musings

I’ve been propelled from my bed at 6:30am on a Tuesday morning because I can’t stop thinking about the word ‘marriage’. A big word these days.

No one would be surprised to know I am for anyone who wants to, having the right to get married as long as they are a consenting adult. I’d be more likely to fight to have laws passed trying to keep teenagers from getting married than two adult people of any gender that love each other.

But I digress….

What I keep seeing is a lot of white guys saying things like “Marriage has always meant a man and woman” or “throughout the ages, marriage has been defined as one man, one woman” or my personal favorite “we can’t go around redefining the word ‘marriage’”.

(First let me say that why does no one remember that marriage used to mean one man and as many women as he could afford?)

What I don’t understand is why straight, married women aren’t standing up to that statement and saying ‘ein minuten, bitte’. Ladies – marriage has already been redefined. If not we would’ve been owned by our fathers and presently owned by our husbands, with no rights of our own and no choice but to serve and have babies. Marriage was created as a pact between a man and the woman’s family that gave them ownership over us. Is that what marriage means now? Of course not – we redefined marriage as a society when the current definition was no longer working for our social progress towards equality and fairness.

By not correcting people that make these statements we laugh in the face of our history, we deny our own fight for equality and fair treatment, we allow ignorance about whom we once were and who we are now. When someone says “marriage cannot be redefined” I first note their ignorance (as it HAS been redefined several times) and then I get angry….angry at the person choosing to deny the men and women who fought and died for my right to be independent. How very quickly we forget.

Misogyny is rampant and insidious and I believe by fighting for the rights of anyone to marry we are doing the same good work as our foremothers.

The father of my oldest friend, Toni, died last week. It wasn’t unexpected - Charlie had been sick for several years with various ailments. Toni’s mom, Jeannie, had a stroke several years ago and she’s never fully recovered. I wasn’t able to go to the funeral last week and it broke my heart but I haven’t seen Jeannie since her stroke and I also knew seeing her would crush me.

My brother, Carl, was able to go to the funeral and he called me afterwards to tell me about it. He saw the little tree I sent (which Toni adored and is now in her house in Nashville), and he was telling me how he remembers our father seeing Charlie as a mentor and friend. Charlie was funny and friendly and stern and sure of himself. Charlie was a good guy.

Toni and I haven’t stayed as close as we once were but we have kept in touch off and on. I emailed her when I heard about her dad and we’ve been corresponding since then. Last week she sent me an email saying that we’d always have a bond. She’s right.

Today she replied telling me that her mother is moving in with one of her brothers and they don’t expect her to last long (how could she? Her partner of 50 years is gone….can you imagine how crushing?). They are selling the house Toni and her four older brothers grew up in and today the phone number that has been the Moon’s number for 50 years is being shut off.

Here is part of my reply to Toni:

I don’t think we were like sisters…I think we are sisters: forged by fire and history. You’ll always be very special to me, Tones and your family will always feel like a bit of my family, too.

…To me your mom is still at the front door of Wal-Mart greeting me and giving me a hug and your dad is at the front of the church plucking his guitar with his knee up on a chair…and you and I are in the bedroom of your house cutting the hair on our Barbie heads or I’m dragging your ass around during ‘Paralyzed in Paradise’ as your mom giggles and sews or cooks….and I’m dialing that phone number so we can sit for hours and watch TV together. That’s how it’s always going to stay inside me. Promise.

It’s only the tip of the iceberg of memories - almost every Sunday after church, I would go to the Moon’s house or Toni would come to my house. Endless sleepovers. Numerous youth group trips. We went to the same college. I stood up in her wedding. Fights, tears, boys, loss……she couldn’t be there for my dad’s funeral but it broke her heart because he was like a father to her… I lost a bit more of my own father last week.

(And let’s not forget the laughter. So much laughter. Belly laughs - especially at fart jokes. It’s a Moon thing)

I knew he was like a father to me when I was a teenager and we were at choir practice….I was dating my first love, Chris (another kid in our church) and I was upset about something. Charlie made a joke and said something about it wouldn’t be the last boyfriend I had. I was so angry and hurt. Of COURSE it would be the last boyfriend I had! We would be together forever - I couldn’t possible love this much again!! Only a father could make a girl that frustrated and hurt and be exactly right all at the same time.

I wish Toni and I could go out for a long lunch and laugh and cry and remember. We were always good at that.

The world is a little less bright, Charlie. You’ll be remembered.

A bill proposed by a Republican president was hashed out by a room full of mostly dems and a few reps. They ultimately worked it out. The vote:

Democrats: 140 yeas, 95 nay
Republicans: 65 yeas, 133 nays

And yet immediately after it was defeated those with an ‘R’ next to their name blame the Democrats for not rallying enough of their people.

REALLY?

This makes me so angry I can barely see straight.

So I’m reading about the concessions and negotiations both sides are making in order to bailout the financial markets. For the record: the idea makes me uncomfortable (because we don’t actually have this money so it’s all, in its way, a falsehood), however I do understand the need to do something and not allow the stock market to completely crash and cause another depression.

So some of the things that were negotiated: the money is split up into several installments and the last $350 million congress will have at least 15 days to vote on if they think it’s not necessary or a waste of money, limits on executives compensations for failing companies, and the government must be allowed non-voting stock so the money can be recouped if the company does well. No word on how much unchecked freedom Paulson gets. So far seems pretty reasonable.

But here’s what pisses me off.

First: Dems wanted judges to have the ability to adjust mortgage rates for first-time home buyers so that they actually might be able to pay them off if they are having trouble and their house is going into foreclosure. The Republicans got their way on this and no, if you own your first house and your in trouble, the company who gave you your loan might get bailed up, but you’re screwed.

That makes me mad.

Second: The Dems wanted money made from this to go to affordable housing. Well, I’ll let you read it:

They (the dems) also agreed not to dedicate a portion of any profits from the bailout program to an affordable housing fund that Republicans claimed would primarily assist social service organizations that support the Democratic Party, the official said.

Republicans do not want to help people who have trouble affording housing because the people that choose to assist them as their life’s work might be democrats. Just take that in.

If you are a dem who wants to help people who are poor, you are not worthy of money because, and only because, you vote democratic. That may be the single most selfish thing I’ve heard in weeks.

Matty and Tab threw a surprise party for me several weeks ago and it was a great time. Ben and Will flew in from Chicago and I adore them both so much I just want to squeeze their heads off.

Ben then made this video

Hilarious. I haven’t been drunk since about 1997 but I do like the Malibu (thanks David Nugent!)

I’m a dork.

You must watch this.

And be sure and watch it to the end because some of the best parts are closer to the end.

You know the dude did the choreography.

And somebody’s mom can move!

This time of year, when I can see a change in the position of the sun, it’s not so hot and the sky has a deeper hue, I find myself longing to cook. Slow cook. Chop and saute and cover in liquid and end up with a beautiful stew or pork loin cooked all day in milk and garlic or a lemon roasted chicken with bread salad - no recipes just whatever I have and feel like cooking.

I should’ve been french and had my own cow to milk and make cheese and grind my own wheat.

It seems like the time of year where senses are heightened. I want to luxuriate in feelings….physical feelings…..feeling sensual. Using my summer deadened senses that seem to come alive at the barest hint of fall. And smells - smells that evoke so much comfort. It’s a very comfortable time of year.

I pulled out my orange enameled stock pot, turned on the heat and poured in a good amount of olive oil and a few pats of butter…the first of my favorite smells: butter sizzling into good olive oil. Nutty and rich.

I dusted the beef with flour and salt with herbs de Provence and then browned the meat. As I was doing this in batches I was thinking about how cooking reaches a deep, soulful part of me….how even something as simple as turning the cubed beef over to discover a perfectly browned crust makes me happy….satisfed. And of course the smell!! Heavenly.

Right now my fingers smell like mirepoix.

I love thumbing my nose at the mise en place rabble of the world and just barely getting my vegetables chopped in time as the meat is browning. It feels like a tango - timing my dance between the hot oil and meat and the cutting board with colorful veggies still wet in my hands.

After removing the meat, the mirepoix went in and was left to sweat. Then I crushed in garlic, sloshes in half a bottle of good red wine, dropped in thyme, crushed red pepper, couple of bay leaves and a bit of salt and black pepper.

There is something eternally sexy about the smell of red wine and herbs reducing to half.

As any good cook would (and I, of course, envision myself a fancy, fancy cook - the hero of all my own cooking stories), from here on out I taste constantly. My fingers are used to quickly dipping into simmering liquids and up to my tongue to make sure the spices are balanced and there’s enough salt. It’s so important to me to taste at every stage.

I added a large can of drained diced tomatoes and about five cups of vegetable broth, brought it all to a simmer, taste for salt, and then put on the lid to cook for hours and hours and hours.

The house smells of rich food that brings people running.

Right at the end I’ll add in some chocolate and fresh rosemary to lend an earthiness and brightness that no one can put their finger on but makes the dish divine. I’ll roast haricot vert in olive oil and salt and pepper and make garlic mashed potatoes to go alongside the thick stew.

I’m also considering a batch of dark brown sugar shortbread cookies.

A good day. To me, quite possibly a perfect day.

I fear ‘uniting’ is not an option when the main theme of the Republican convention seems to be frat-boy like sarcasm. I don’t get it. Even Huckabee (who I disagree with on a good 7/8ths of the issues but is just immensely likable as a person) seems to show disdain about this hateful rhetoric. Don’t get me wrong - rhetoric I get…they all do it. But the plain ol’ mean tone of attacks…….I honestly don’t understand. Do you have nothing else to belittle but the person because their policies make sense? Did your mother not teach you in first grade that the reason “that” kid is hateful is to make themselves feel better?

Are they just a bunch of bullies with horribly low self-esteem trying to make themselves feel better by cloaking in false righteousness and high-jacking religion?

I’m frankly insulted that McCain thinks because I am a woman who adores Hillary, I will be swayed by a pro-anwar, anti-choice, pro-Iraq war VP pick JUST because she’s a woman? Are you kidding me? How did that meeting go? “Well, she’s a woman ya’ see…..they won’t notice the difference!!!”

I’m fairly sure this guy was the brains behind it.

“It’s not that John McCain doesn’t care - it’s that he doesn’t get it”

I think that’s both gracious and dead on.