tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68535550527817625332024-03-13T14:46:43.564+01:00So, Sarah Says...a blog about everything, nothing, and anything in betweenSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-29600578930502119472010-06-22T05:55:00.002+02:002010-06-22T06:42:23.634+02:00The Little Old Lady on My Morning RunIt's been awhile since I've written... I know. You may have thought my blog was long abandoned for <a href="http://twitter.com/sosarahsays">Twitter</a>. That wouldn't have been a poor assumption. Little blurbs of 140 characters each has been oddly a better fit for me recently. Though brevity has never been my strong point - if you've ever heard me try to tell a story, you're probably nodding - I guess I just haven't had a lot I've felt like sharing recently. And by "recently" I mean "in months."<br /><br />I've always written this blog as more of a journal for myself than anything else. I don't really caring who else, if anyone, reads it. I like to chronicle interesting things that happen or random thoughts about random things when I can formulate them into substantial enough of a bundle to make sense. My thinking has been kind of scattered recently. I mean, I think it's been scattered my whole life... I've never been a very linear thinker... but recently it's been <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> all over the place. I guess because, honestly, from day to day, I don't know what I'm really doing or where I'm going in life. Overall I'm happy, but I often feel like I'm just sort of floating, along for the ride. I'm thinking this feeling will eventually pass. One day I'll settle and figure things out and "get a future." Someday. Until then...<br /><br />The reason I'm writing tonight is because I've almost finished reading Haruki Murakami's <span style="font-style: italic;">What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.</span> This book has taken me forever to read because 1) I read more digitally nowadays -- blogs, news sites... I love the feeling of hardcopy and it's very unlikely that I'll ever own a Kindle or similar, but that's just how it's worked out. and 2) Like all the Murakami books I've read, it's nice to savor. Read a little bit at a time. Put it down. Think about it. Savor it. Like dark chocolate.<br /><br />Anyway, this post is going to be short because it's after midnight and I'm planning to get up and run in about 5 hours. I may write a longer review of Murakami's book later, but I wanted to jot this down for posterity before I hit the hay:<br /><br />Murakami's book hit close to home. I've never really considered myself a runner, despite successfully finishing my first 10-mile road race this past weekend (!). Nope, not a runner. Someone who runs occasionally? Yes. A runner? Not really. I'm not really sure what makes someone a "real" runner... but I'm not it. Maybe runners are competitive? Am I competitive? Sure, with some things. But not with running. I've never and will probably never be a superstar runner. I don't need to win age group awards or run Western States. I'm happy enough just getting out there on the pavement for awhile. It's time alone, time to think. Like, Murakami, I don't really know what I think about when I run. It's kind of like dreaming... if someone asked me right in the moment, I may be able to tell them, but after the fact, who knows? Like dreams that are lost forever the minute you wake up, a lot of things get left on the road. Problems, troubles, stresses, frustrations... A lot of them just get left out there after a run, like leaves and footprints... and that's a good thing. I'd like to think I've left a few ideas for the next great novel and inventions that would have made me millions out there as well, which isn't such an awesome thing, but, hey, it happens.<br /><br />Wow, I'm getting really tired. Where was a going with this? Oh, I wanted to talk about my morning run. I may have talked about why morning runs are special in a previous post, but I'm not sure and am too tired/lazy to look right now. Seriously, I'm fading fast and need to turn the lights off... If I have never talked about the special-ness of pre-dawn runs, I may eventually, but not now. Now, I want to mention my morning run "friend." Every time I run my "regular loop" (as opposed to the "DC loop" I sometimes run) in the early mornings before work, I see this woman. I used to see her five days a week when I was running that often, before I got my stress fracture. Now that I only run in the morning on two week days -- usually Tuesdays and Thursdays, I only see her then. This little old lady must go for a walk every day. I always see her walking in the opposite direction I'm running, on the same side of the road, when I'm about 3.5 miles in, shooting downhill on Wisconsin Avenue. She's usually between the entrance to Somerset and Saks Jandel on the right, just before I get to a small hill that goes over a little stream and is just long enough for me to hope the next walk light is red so I can stop for a second and catch my breath. I can almost pace with her. If I see her higher up the road, I know I'm going fast or running late... usually the latter. If I see her lower, I know I'm going slower or left the house a bit early... in this case, usually the former. If I don't see her at all, I worry. She's pretty old and always walks by herself. I worry that, if I don't see her, something's happened to her. I pay extra attention on my next run, looking out for her, making sure she's okay, still walking. I've been running by her for over a year now and I think she recognizes me. Sometimes she'll wave, other times she'll just smile a bit. I think it depends on the weather. I get more of a wave when it's warmer.<br /><br />Anyway, it's weird. I've never spoken a word to this woman with the exception of maybe a "good morning" here and there, though I feel like I've gotten to know her during my runs. I could say the same for the business man at the bus stop, or the cyclist shooting down Connecticut Avenue towards D.C., or the slender female runner I always pass going the opposite direction on Bradley Lane.<br /><br />When I had a stress fracture and couldn't run for a few months, I missed seeing these people. There's a nice camaraderie in those early morning hours. I wonder if they missed me, too, in my absence... Did they notice I wasn't around, running by, a human mile marker? I'd like to think they did because, truthfully, as much as I like running, sometimes there are days I just don't want to get out of bed. I run through every excuse in the book and then some (It's cold; it's dark; I worked out hard yesterday; I'm going to have a long day at work, I should sleep in...) before bribing myself (just get dressed and go stand on the sidewalk... if you still don't want to run, you don't have to...). But the real thing that gets me out of bed? My morning friends... especially that little old lady on Wisconsin. Weirdly, it sometimes makes my day to see her.<br /><br />12:41 and the morning run is approaching fast. I'm off to bed. Night!Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-78130371977212077112010-03-28T05:20:00.003+02:002010-03-28T05:43:30.886+02:00Mom's First 5kMy mom texted me tonight to see if I wanted to do a charity 5k, which supports the middle school where she works, with her in a few weeks. Unfortunately, I've already got salon plans that morning, so I had to turn down her offer. However, I'm quite proud of her for doing it. I grew up in a relatively healthy household (no sodas, healthy, home-cooked meals, etc...) but, of course, there's always room for improvement. Recently, my dad's made A LOT of healthy changes; he's hitting the gym for lifting and cardio nearly every day, making healthier food choices (the other day he told me that the family was now addicted to Sabra roasted red pepper hummus -- "We eat it with raw veggies! So much better than chips and dip!") and just being overall excited about it and open to learning more. My mom's dabbled in exercise for years. A couple of times a year, she'll sign up for this or that group class (water aerobics, jazzercise, etc.) and has been practicing gentle (hatha, I think) yoga a couple of times per week for the past six months or so. When she texted me tonight, I couldn't help but think that she was slowly slipping over to "the dark side" (if you can indeed call a healthy lifestyle, erm, dark). The following text exchange made me laugh. I think I pushed her a bit too hard, too fast with the Jeff Galloway comment... <span style="font-weight: bold;">[bolded text added for clarification]</span><br /><br />SoSarahSays: You should do it with dad :)<br /><br />Mom: He can't -- in Calif. <span style="font-weight: bold;">[for work]</span><br /><br />SoSarahSays: Can you do it? Is it a walk/run? Sorry I'm not available!<br /><br />Mom: I have signed up.<br /><br />SoSarahSays: Exciting! Your first 5k, right? We are becoming such an active fam!<br /><br />Mom: Before you get excited - I'm walking.<br /><br />SoSarahSays: So? I walk sometimes. You're still going the distance.<br /><br />Mom: Wow. <span style="font-weight: bold;">[Looking back, I feel like she meant this sarcastically. I know there are a lot of people who will argue that people who walk 26.2 aren't really "running a marathon," but you can't argue that it's not impressive to walk 26.2. Yeah, this is just a 5k, but you've got to start somewhere, right?!]<br /><br /></span>SoSarahSays: Everyone walks before they run!! Some people ALWAYS walk and run -- google Jeff Galloway and the Galloway Method <span style="font-weight: bold;">[Seriously, do it. <a href="http://jeffgalloway.typepad.com/jeff_galloways_blog/2010/03/running-no-more-than-30-seconds-to-set-a-personal-record.html">I was reading on his blog today about a woman who cut 30 minutes off her marathon time -- from 5:15 to 4:38 -- by utilizing a 30s/30s run/walk ratio.</a> 4:38 isn't Kenyan or even Boston-qualifying, but it's not terrible for the average Joe, and certainly nothing to sneeze at. I haven't run a marathon yet, but when I do, I imagine I'd be happy for 4:38, at least for my first one!]<br /><br /></span>Mom: Barf.<br /><br />SoSarahSays: Dad's come over to the dark side... You're next. Muahahaha. You've been toeing the line for years with your exercise classes.<br /><br />Mom: Towing like a tow truck.<br /><br /><br />lol. :)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-37901031866657403702010-03-26T14:00:00.000+01:002010-03-26T14:04:34.102+01:00Lemonade?<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S6yw4qUisYI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/SlA3RW2UOMk/s1600/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAyMzcuanBn%3F%3D-774102"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S6yw4qUisYI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/SlA3RW2UOMk/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAyMzcuanBn%3F%3D-774102" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452927736318439810" /></a></p>Piggybacking my last post, I also found this picture on my blackberry. I took this photo at Whole Foods in Tenleytown, DC in February, when I was waiting in an aisle-long line to buy quinoa and soy creamer (necessities!) right before the first great snowstorm. I thought lemonade was just lemons, sugar and water? Apparently sometimes grapes, too. I was surprised at the time, but now that I know you can make ORANGE JUICE from lemons (see previous post), nothing surprises me. Lemon... The most versatile fruit?<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-15891150676813706852010-03-26T13:54:00.000+01:002010-03-26T13:56:25.939+01:00Orangeade<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S6yu-RBWuvI/AAAAAAAAAQw/UDVDA-yoZvU/s1600/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAyNjIuanBn%3F%3D-785940"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S6yu-RBWuvI/AAAAAAAAAQw/UDVDA-yoZvU/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAyNjIuanBn%3F%3D-785940" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452925633583037170" /></a></p>Anyone have a recipe for orange juice made from lemons?<p>Snapped in the produce section at the Giant grocery store in Bethesda, MD on Wednesday, March 24, 2010. <p>I bought a couple of these potentially-hybrid lemons and can assure you that they taste like regular lemons and don't appear to be a food science, taste modification experiment. Confounding.<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-63286719991147133172010-02-10T20:02:00.002+01:002010-02-10T20:03:19.962+01:00Looks like we won't be recycling any time soon...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S3MC4_YFF9I/AAAAAAAAAQo/54Wg1_fRzC8/s1600-h/snowcycling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S3MC4_YFF9I/AAAAAAAAAQo/54Wg1_fRzC8/s320/snowcycling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436692353274681298" border="0" /></a>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-88424156928508580532010-02-06T15:33:00.003+01:002010-02-06T15:42:49.525+01:00WMATA and SNOWPACALYPSE 2We're in the middle of Snowpacalypse 2 here in the DC area (to see what I learned during Snowpacalypse 1, go <a href="http://sosarahsays.blogspot.com/2009/12/snowpocalypse-and-being-adult.html">here</a>). I'm already suffering from a bit of cabin fever. It seems to set in quick when you're anticipating it, doesn't it? In a bit, I'm going to eat a hearty coffee and stove top oatmeal breakfast <s>spiked with creatine</s> and go outside to <s>get huge</s> start shoveling. In the mean time, the snow means delays for Metro (and all above-ground stations are closed), but they seem to be taking it in stride:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S21-RMRP_eI/AAAAAAAAAQg/U4ev4Yi8VHY/s1600-h/metro+tony+the+tiger.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S21-RMRP_eI/AAAAAAAAAQg/U4ev4Yi8VHY/s320/metro+tony+the+tiger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435139159122509282" border="0" /></a>(click to enlarge)Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-32199610430317030802010-01-18T00:51:00.000+01:002010-01-18T00:56:05.644+01:00When you're just too lazy to go inside...<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S1OjlYEyT8I/AAAAAAAAAQY/t_Q1uOg_xVQ/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAyMjcuanBn%3F%3D-765645"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/S1OjlYEyT8I/AAAAAAAAAQY/t_Q1uOg_xVQ/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAyMjcuanBn%3F%3D-765645" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427861838424592322" /></a></p>God, I "love" the concept of walk-up windows... They are like drive thrus... For your feet. For the record, they have one of these in Copenhagen (on Stroeget, next to Illum), so I know this isn't just a lazy American thing. Damnit though, seriously, you are eating Burger King, you could probably use the extra .000001 calorie burn walking inside would give you. It adds up, people. <br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-28366604286805147512009-12-19T18:12:00.003+01:002009-12-19T20:59:15.592+01:00Snowpocalypse and being an adultUnless you are living under a rock (or on the West Coast, possibly), you know my fellow mid-Atlantic-dwellers and I are currently experiencing a record-breaking December snowstorm, which the Weather Channel has dubbed "a winter wallop." Now, aside from the obvious grumbling that this had to happen on a weekend and couldn't buy us all a few days off work by doing its walloping on, say, a Tuesday, I've learned a few things in the past 12 hours. With the exception of a year and a half I spent being a Viking in Copenhagen, Denmark, I've lived in the mid-Atlantic region (Maryland) since I was nearly 8; the better part of, um, 15 years?! Eeep. Anyway, my point is not to age myself. My point is to illustrate that I should have a basic understanding of what you need before -- and what you need to do after -- a major snowstorm. Here's a list of things I've come up with of basic things responsible adults need to do before a snowstorm.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Things Adults do Before and After Snowstorms</span><br /><br />1. <span style="font-style: italic;">Buy salt for sidewalks and walkways.</span><br /><br />(I live in a house, not an apartment where they have groundskeepers to "de-snow" for you). I realized we should probably get salt for our walkway around, oh, 9:30 last night, <span style="font-style: italic;">after</span> it had already started snowing. I needed to go to the grocery store anyway, so I thought it wouldn't be a big deal to pick a bag of rock salt for the walk there. Unfortunately, rock salt is either hardware store-exclusive or they were completely sold out of three grocery stores. I'm guessing the latter, considering it was <span style="font-style: italic;">already</span> snowing and meteorologists have been predicting snowpocalypse since Wednesday. More on grocery store madness in a minute.<br /><br />Anyway, being the resourceful Bob-Villa-cum-McGyver that I am, I picked up a $.52 container of <span style="font-style: italic;">table salt</span> and decided that would work for the walk (we don't have sidewalks in our neighborhood and thus aren't bound under sidewalk clearing laws -- in my parents' neighborhood, they have to be cleared within 12 hours of the end of snowfall). I came home, ripped the spout off the container and "liberally" "sprinkled" the walk. When I woke up this morning and saw over a foot of snow outside my bedroom window, I ran to the front door, anxious to see my salt at work, doing it's chemical-melting-thang on the walk. Um, no. EPIC FAIL #1.<br /><br />2. <span style="font-style: italic;">Locate your snow shovel. Place it by the front door, ready for action.<br /><br /></span>Last night, I was explaining my brillant table-salt-on-the-walk idea to my roommate (sounding overly pleased with my "resourcefulness," I'm sure). I distinctly remember saying something along the lines of "No worries if it doesn't work, we have a snow shovel." Well. Thing I've learned number two is that you need to know where your snow shovel is to USE it. Like, if it's sitting out back, leaning against the side of the house, maybe go grab it <span style="font-style: italic;">before </span>there is over a foot of snow on the ground. Now I have no idea where our snow shovel is and the table-salt-on-the-walk brilliant chemical reaction isn't working. EPIC FAIL #2. This will probably become EPIC FAIL #s 3, 4 and 5 when my roommates and I need to "dig" our cars out.<br /><br />3. <span style="font-style: italic;">Go to the grocery store, stock up on necessities, like bananas.<br /><br /></span>Wait, bananas? As mentioned above, I did have the foresight above to go to the grocery store (after it had already started snowing) to get some "necessities." "Necessities" for me included soy creamer for my coffee and cottage cheese<span style="font-style: italic;">. </span>Normal people's snow storm "necessities" include things like soup, milk, eggs and bananas. Wait, bananas? Yes. Man, it was crazy. I just wanted two or three bananas to go with my greek yogurt and oatmeal and you'd think that bananas are out of season on the East Coast (haha, wait a second...!). In all seriousness, though, three out of three grocery stores I visited were completely out of bananas. In two of the three, the banana area of the produce section looked like the water aisle at Harris Teeter in Charleston after Hurricane Hugo. There were ripped open banana boxes everywhere and not a banana in sight. When checking out of the second store, I spied one lonesome, already-browning banana right by checkout. I grabbed it. The old woman in line in front of me was like "Wow, where'd you find that banana?" I was pleased to have gotten what was probably the last unclaimed banana in three states. In retrospect, I probably should have offered to give it to her. Oh well.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span><br />It's still snowing, so this list will probably grow once it stops. I'm going to gear up and go on a Snow safari to find the snow shovel and, once I do, pretend the excursion was my plan the whole time. Maybe I'll also go visit Mike Seidel, Weather Channel's on-location reporter in Tenleytown (about a mile from me) who just said "oops, I tripped over slush" on the air. Maybe I can audition to be the next Jim Cantore. Where is my favorite meteorologist, anyway?<br /><br />Stay safe, DC. Don't let your white pets out in the snow. Enjoy your bananas.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-12226306896937331882009-12-11T20:03:00.002+01:002009-12-11T20:18:22.841+01:00“I wake up in the middle of the night and write things that are beautiful” or Does the New York Times hate Orrin Hatch?The following was published in the <span style="font-style: italic;">New York Times </span>on December 8, 2009. Apparently Sen. Orrin Hatch (R-UT) is quite the songster and holds a soft spot in his heart for Jews. I've <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">bold italicized</span> the best parts.<br /><br /><div class="timestamp"></div><blockquote><div class="timestamp">December 9, 2009</div> <h1><nyt_headline version="1.0" type=" "> <span style="font-size:130%;">A Senator’s Gift to the Jews, Nonreturnable </span></nyt_headline></h1> <nyt_byline version="1.0" type=" "> <div class="byline">By <a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/l/mark_leibovich/index.html?inline=nyt-per" title="More Articles by Mark Leibovich">MARK LEIBOVICH</a></div> </nyt_byline> <p>WASHINGTON — The canon of <a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/subjects/h/hanukkah/index.html?inline=nyt-classifier" title="More articles about Hanukkah.">Hanukkah</a> songs written by Mormon senators from Utah just got a little bigger.</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Senator <a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/h/orrin_g_hatch/index.html?inline=nyt-per" title="More articles about Orrin G. Hatch.">Orrin G. Hatch</a>, a solemn-faced Republican with a soft spot for Jews and a love of <a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/s/barbra_streisand/index.html?inline=nyt-per" title="More articles about Barbra Streisand.">Barbra Streisand</a>, has penned a catchy holiday tune, “Eight Days of Hanukkah.” </p> <p>The video was posted Tuesday night on <a href="http://www.tabletmag.com/" title="Magazine’s Web site.">Tablet</a>, an online magazine of Jewish lifestyle and culture, just in time for Hanukkah.</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Known around the Senate as a prolific writer of Christian hymns and patriotic melodies, Mr. Hatch, 75, said this was his first venture into Jewish music. It will not be his last.</p> <p><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">“Anything I can do for the Jewish people, I will do,” Mr. Hatch said in an interview</span> before heading to the Senate floor to debate an abortion amendment. “Mormons believe the Jewish people are the chosen people, just like the Old Testament says.” </p> <p><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">In short, he loves the Jews.</span> And based on an early sampling of listeners, the feeling could be mutual.</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">“Watching Orrin Hatch in the studio, I said to myself that nothing this great will ever happen to me again,” said Alana Newhouse, the editor-in-chief of Tablet.</p> <p>Set against a bouncy synthesizer beat, the song begins:</p> <p>“Hanukkah, oh Hanukkah, </p> <p>The festival of light/</p> <p> In Jerusalem,</p> <p>The oil burned bright.”</p> <p>Adding to the project’s only-in-America mishmash is that the song is performed by Rasheeda Azar, a Syrian-American vocalist from Indiana. But Mr. Hatch is the song’s unquestioned prime mover, or<span class="italic"> macher.</span> He is featured in the video, sitting stoic in the studio, head bobbing slightly, donning earphones and contributing backup vocals. </p> <p>The song’s contagious refrain goes:</p> <p>“Eight days of Hanukkah,</p> <p>Come let’s celebrate. </p> <p>Eight days of Hanukkah,</p> <p>Let’s celebrate tonight, Hey!”</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">At one point, Mr. Hatch unbuttons his white dress shirt to expose the golden mezuzah necklace he wears every day. Mezuzahs also adorn the doorways of his homes in Washington and Utah. Mr. Hatch keeps a Torah in his Senate office.</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> “Not a real Torah, but sort of a mock Torah,” he said. “I feel sorry I’m not Jewish sometimes.”</p> <p>The genesis of “Eight Days of Hanukkah” came a decade ago. Mr. Hatch was considering a run for the presidency in the campaign eventually won by <a href="http://topics.nytimes.com/top/reference/timestopics/people/b/george_w_bush/index.html?inline=nyt-per" title="More articles about George W. Bush.">George W. Bush</a> (Mr. Hatch wound up writing a song for Mr. Bush’s second inaugural, titled “Heal Our Land”). He was discussing his love of songwriting with the writer Jeffrey Goldberg, a well-known mensch-about-town in Washington with a longtime grievance against “the general lameness of Hanukkah music.” (As a columnist for The Jerusalem Post years earlier, Mr. Goldberg had organized a “write-a-new-song-for-Hanukkah contest” that attracted 200 entries, most of them — in his estimation — “dreck.”) </p> <p>He asked Mr. Hatch if he would write a Hanukkah song. The senator said he would, but never did.</p> <p>Mr. Goldberg, who now writes for The Atlantic, mentioned the decade-old promise in his blog last year a few days before Christmas. A day later, Mr. Hatch sent him an apologetic e-mail message that included the first five stanzas of “Eight Days of Hanukkah.”</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">“I am willing to serve as a Semitic song muse for any United States senator,” Mr. Goldberg said. “God forbid any of the Jewish senators write a Hanukkah song.” </p> <p>Mr. Hatch enlisted his collaborator, Madeline Stone, a Jewish songwriter from the Upper West Side of Manhattan who specializes in Christian music. “I’m a pretty liberal Democrat,” Ms. Stone said. “But it became more about the music and the friendship for me and Orrin.” </p> <p>The song was recorded in October at a studio in Manhattan. </p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Mr. Hatch speaks of “Eight Days of Hanukkah” as a gift to the Jewish people. “This song means more to me than most of the songs I have ever written,” he said. “People need to know the story of Hanukkah. It was a miracle.”</p> <p><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">He said his ultimate goal would be for his idol, Ms. Streisand, to perform one of his songs. “It would be good for her and good for me,”</span> Mr. Hatch said, while acknowledging that given her outspoken liberalism, that union might require another miracle.</p></blockquote><p></p>http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/09/us/politics/09hanukkah.html?pagewanted=print<br /><br />You can watch the video of Hatch in the recording studio (complete with taking his muzuzah necklace out of his shirt!) <a href="http://www.tabletmag.com/arts-and-culture/music/21886/eight-days-of-hanukkah-video/">here</a>.<br /><br />The frosting on top of the cupcake is that Sen. Hatch's Hanukkah song has been A DECADE in the making. The <span style="font-style: italic;">Times</span> published the following article on August 1, 1999. Again, I've <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">bold italicized</span></span> the best parts:<br /><br /><div id="content"> <h1></h1><blockquote><h1><span style="font-size:130%;">Love Is All Around</span></h1> <h2><span style="font-size:130%;">Orrin Hatch is a distinguished U.S. Senator who is running for the Presidency. But what he really likes to do is sing sweet songs of love.</span></h2> <p>By Jeffrey Goldberg</p> <p><em>The New York Times</em>, August 1, 1999<br /></p><p>Midway through a conversation about his quixotic bid to be the Republican Presidential nominee, Orrin Hatch, the grim-faced Mormon patriarch who serves as chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee, asked a question no other United States Senator has ever asked. Or, at the very least, has asked me.</p> <p>The question: “Have you listened to my love songs?” </p> <p>I had not, in fact, listened to his love songs. I was familiar with his gospel music—he has a new CD out, “Put Your Arms Around the World,” featuring Jesse Jackson’s daughter Santita—and I have listened to his patriotic songs, including “You Gotta Love This Country.” But I had not yet been exposed to his love songs.</p> <p>Orrin Hatch, the senior Senator from Utah, is not associated in most minds with romance. Orrin Hatch talking about his love music is sort of like the farmer in “American Gothic” jumping off the painting and saying, “You know, what I’d really like to do is go to an all-night rave.”</p> <p>Hatch asked me this improbable question as we walked through the Hart Senate Office Building.<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> His press aide had warned me against bringing up Hatch’s budding career as a songwriter, on the grounds that he would never stop talking.</span> The Senator loves talking about his music, so much so that he barely noticed the Secretary of State walking by. “Hi, Madeleine,” he finally said. “Keep up the good work.” Albright looked as if she might have something to say, but Hatch’s mind was elsewhere.</p> <p style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">“You know, some of my songs are written just for Barbra,” he told me as we continued walking. Barbra, as in Streisand.</p> <p><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Hatch once wrote a song in honor of Ted Kennedy and his wife, Vicki, called “Souls Along the Way.”</span> “Oh, he loved it,” Hatch said, speaking of Kennedy, his sometime legislative partner. “Everybody loves that song. Everybody in the industry thinks it could be a major hit.”</p> <p>“We are souls along the way—in my heart you stay/You know my secrets, I have cried your pain,” the song goes.</p> <p><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I asked Hatch if he thought the Republican Party would expel him for writing songs for Ted Kennedy and dreaming of working with Barbra Streisand. “I’m not prejudiced. I love Democrats. One of my favorite Democrats is Gladys Knight.” </span>On an album of inspirational music, Knight sings “Many Different Roads,” a song about Mother Teresa and Lady Diana that Hatch wrote the lyrics for: “A princess and a pauper/Walked the lonely roads of life/In many ways so different/And yet so much alike/Many different roads can lead to glory/Many different lamps can bring the light.”</p> <p>“The music,” Senator Kennedy told me, “is a side of Senator Hatch that not too many people know about.”</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Hatch would like that to change, because this is all you need to know about Orrin Hatch: while he would like to be President—name a Senator who wouldn’t—what he would really like to be is Neil Diamond.</p> <p>Senator Hatch, who is 65, has written poetry for a long time, but he branched out into music only a few years ago, when a Utah composer, Janice Kapp Perry, asked him one day if he would give lyric writing a go. One thing led to another, and soon “he was sending them in batches of 10 and 15,” Perry said. Their first collaboration was “My God Is Love,” a CD of Christian praise.</p> <p>“This is a way of getting my feelings out without hurting anybody or irritating anybody,” Hatch told me. “Well, some of the songs might irritate people.”</p> <p><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">His music is a little bit country and a little bit rock-and-roll.</span> A very little bit: though he professes to be an eclectic listener—I like some of the rap music”—his music fits comfortably into the easy-listening category. Everything rhymes, more or less, and subtexts are nonexistent. I asked him if he would ever write about darker subjects, like his poverty-stricken childhood (the Senator once worked as a janitor), or about controversies in his public career. But Hatch said he had no plans to set the Anita Hill episode to music. His music is straight uplift. “I wake up in the middle of the night and write things that are beautiful,” he said.</p> <p>Listening to his Christian music gave me an idea. I<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> have been on a 10-year campaign to encourage the writing of better Hanukkah songs. The current Hanukkah catalogue, Adam Sandler’s songs excepted, is insipid and shopworn.</span> Perhaps, I suggested to Senator Hatch, he could write a Hanukkah song to go along with his vast repertory of Christmas music.</p> <p style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">“I’m going to show you something I don’t show everybody,” Hatch responded, and pulled out from under his shirt a small mezuza on a chain.</p> <p>Hatch cottoned to the idea of a Hanukkah song; some of the themes of Hanukkah, the quest for religious freedom most of all, echo the story of the Mormons. He said he would give it a try and invited me to return to his office later that week, to talk about the Hanukkah song and to—and there’s no other way to put this—kick back and listen to his love jams.</p> <p>So one weekday morning, when the other dozen or so Republican candidates for President were presumably squeezing donors for money—Hatch is roughly $36 million behind George W. Bush, though he has asked that one million Americans contribute $36 each to his campaign—the Senator sat in his office for an hour and listened to CD’s.</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">“Do you like Sting?” he asked me as he began playing “Whispers of My Heart,” one of the love songs. Yes, I said. “This is Sting,” he responded.</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">It is?</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">“Well, no. Actually it’s a kid from Utah. But he sounds like Sting.”</p> <p>I had prepared, at Hatch’s request, an outline of themes for his Hanukkah song. I would have suggested the title “Light My Fire,” but Orrin Hatch plays things straight, so I thought better of it. He read the outline carefully and said, “I think we can really do something here.” I recommended getting the song out in advance of the New York primary. But he said he doesn’t mix politics and music.</p> <p>It is not entirely clear why Hatch is running for President. Unlike the other Republican munchkins, he has stature to lose. He has an impressive legislative record and the chairmanship of a powerful committee. He is running, he says, because he is the best alternative to George W. Bush, and because he could do a good job as President.</p> <p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">But then I put this question to him: If he had a choice between the Presidency and superstardom in the world of popular music, which would he choose? “President,” he said. With all due respect, I didn’t really believe him.</p></blockquote><p></p>http://www.nytimes.com/1999/08/01/magazine/the-way-we-live-now-8-1-99-encounter-love-is-all-around.html</div><br />Orrin Hatch is my new favorite Senator... Mr. Congeniality.<br /><blockquote></blockquote>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-79249398785797564202009-12-07T14:19:00.000+01:002009-12-07T14:23:42.995+01:00Who's regulating this? OR The existence of Santa and his carbon footprint...<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/Sx0B3yq005I/AAAAAAAAAQM/rxSyTzQ11oU/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxODYuanBn%3F%3D-722996"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/Sx0B3yq005I/AAAAAAAAAQM/rxSyTzQ11oU/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxODYuanBn%3F%3D-722996" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412484385175032722" /></a></p>On my way to work this morning, I noticed my neighbors had tacked this sign up on a telephone pole. Good thing I park on the other side on the street... But, on that note, doesn't the big guy park his sleigh on rooftops? Why does he need a reserved spot on my street? Maybe this is the new way parents ease into telling their kids Santa doesn't exist. This year, it's "kids, Santa has traded his antiquated (albeit low carbon footprint) sleigh for a mini van, which handles better and boasts greater fuel-efficiency than an SUV, the only other commercial class option that could possibly hold all those gifts." (Santa probably eats organic kale and Scottish oatmeal over cookies, too.) Next year, it'll be "kids, Santa has morphed into your mother. Sorry, they're one in the same."<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-29139858394778547382009-11-21T02:13:00.000+01:002009-11-21T02:17:59.411+01:00The sketchiest ATM in the world...<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/Swc_x5q8uOI/AAAAAAAAAQE/adUd9BNGjjE/s1600/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxODEuanBn%3F%3D-779412"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/Swc_x5q8uOI/AAAAAAAAAQE/adUd9BNGjjE/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxODEuanBn%3F%3D-779412" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406360004208670946" /></a></p>Spotted at Friendship Heights Metro station (Maryland side entrance under Indique Heights). Yes, it is just a box with air vents with a huge sticker that says ATM on the three visible sides. It's very poorly lit and there is no bank affiliation or anything... Um, yeah, go ahead, that seems legit.<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-79436181654651636302009-11-20T02:21:00.000+01:002009-11-20T02:29:57.506+01:00When it rains...<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SwXxFf7vv4I/AAAAAAAAAP8/mBpwmqBlIOo/s1600/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNzcuanBn%3F%3D-797507"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SwXxFf7vv4I/AAAAAAAAAP8/mBpwmqBlIOo/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNzcuanBn%3F%3D-797507" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405992004501880706" /></a></p>I saw these rainboots abandoned in a flower (tree?) bed at 9th and F NW tonight. They were large, so I assume they were men's boots, unless some female criminal stole them from the scene of a crime... Why not a girl borrowing them from her boyfriend? Because if someone borrowed them from someone they cared about, they wouldn't have just ditched them, they would have returned them -- rainboots aren't exactly the same as the throw-away shirt from your last half marathon. So why criminal? Because they were just abandoned when it was raining and they could have been useful? What bothers me about this theory though is that they were positioned the way the were. They were taken off deliberately. They weren't "run" out of in a chase (they would have been one in front of the other). Maybe the person wearing them. Took them off to go into Gordon Bierch (sp?), the restaurant directly in front of the tree bed? But why would you leave rainboots outside when it's still raining? It clearly wasn't to dry them out -- unless the decision was made when it was not raining. And then maybe the owner was in the restaurant and didn't realize the conditions had changed? (Drunk? Impaired by the darkness augmented by artificial light?) But that begs the question of safety... Washington, DC isn't rural Idaho. Stuff gets stolen. Why risk the "safety" (ownership) of your wellies to dry them outside? What would be wrong with the air inside the restaurant? Sure they wouldn't be scented like, um, DC (?!?!?). But... These boots are mystifying. This could be because I admittedly had one (or two) too many chard-cranberries (I know, I'm so gauche it hurts sometimes), but it could be because I naturally like to analyze the life out of everything and I occasionally thought-vomit all over my blog. Wait, who am I kidding? This blog is called 'So, Sarah Says...' It's 100% thought-vomit and random musings. That's the point. I write all this for myself. Anyone who reads this should be interested in hearing about what goes on in this gobbeldy-gook mind of mine. No apologies.<p>Back to those wellingtons... Maybe the person kicked them off to do run around footloose and fancy-free in the rain. I mean, when YOU think about running around footloose and fancy, don't you first factor in kicking off your shoes? Oh. Well, I do. Someone is dancing around Penn Quarter, boot-less! Why am I on my way home and not searching for them?! I bet my overanalytical self could learn a lot from them.<p>Oh, here's my Metro stop.<p>End drunk, bored, Metro blackberry post. (Other people read on the Metro, don't they? I type away like a 14 year old. Sad. At least I'm not texting or, worse, sexting. God.) END.<br>
<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-81199764592939394572009-11-06T22:12:00.004+01:002009-11-07T02:46:26.294+01:00My colleague sent me this screen shot in an email<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SvTRal3oddI/AAAAAAAAAP0/ahFwWuQXWQA/s1600-h/too+busy+for+my+jams.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SvTRal3oddI/AAAAAAAAAP0/ahFwWuQXWQA/s320/too+busy+for+my+jams.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401172107896321490" border="0" /></a><br />I was amused. (click to enlarge.)<br /><br />Notice that the title of the email is "Um, too busy to get my jams done er what?" The window is busy?!<br /><br />I hate when you have an epic computer fail when you are trying to work... and of course it always happens at the most inopportune times, like when you're under deadline... or when you're in the middle of some intricate calculation or eloquent prose and haven't risked breaking your intense concentration to save in awhile... or when you're browsing Facebook and your boss walks up behind you and your computer freezes and you can't close the window... Wait, what?Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-46143403929932114802009-10-31T01:35:00.000+01:002009-10-31T01:39:59.617+01:00Witchcraft and Wizardry<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SuuHX3a85qI/AAAAAAAAAPc/vH4yt6zSG7U/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNTQuanBn%3F%3D-799618"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SuuHX3a85qI/AAAAAAAAAPc/vH4yt6zSG7U/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNTQuanBn%3F%3D-799618" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398557422417405602" /></a></p>Snapped this in the window of Bloomindale's in Chevy Chase. It's probably Alexander McQueen.<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-27694336090341035272009-10-26T23:42:00.000+01:002009-10-27T04:47:43.446+01:00Why do Scanvinavians love licorice?<span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">This is another previously unpublished draft from the archives. It was originally drafted on January 30, 2008. I'm not really sure why I never finished this one. I'm sure I could dredge up at least a half dozen more possibilities to explain why Scandinavians love licorice, but I'm hitting publish as is.</span></span><br /><br /><br />Scandinavians love licorice. As a general rule - the saltier, the better. Living in Denmark, I've talked to many a Dane and a foreigner about this unusual propensity towards salt liquorice. What makes them so fond of it while people in other countries are repulsed by the taste and absolutely despise it? Moreover, why do Scandinavians tend to favor progressively saltier licorice as they get older, moving from mintier, children's varieties to salt-infused adult-only types? One friend, Libby (of <a href="http://copenhagenrevisited.blogspot.com/">Copenhagen Revisited</a>), believes that there may be some kind of tolerance build-up over the years as Scandinavians are culturally encouraged to frequently indulge in liquorice treats. Or, perhaps Scandinavians share a genetic inclination towards liquorice, similar to the way the are genetically inclined towards blue eyes and blonde hair (in comparison to people of other cultures).<br /><br />I did some quick, Google-aided research on liquorice because I was curious about possible health benefits of frequent liquorice consumption. I wonder if, over time, Scandinavians have taken to eating mass-quantities of liquorice as a kind of inadvertent herbal remedy against ailments that may plague the Northern-dwelling residents to an extent significantly greater than other places in the world.<br /><br />My findings were as follows:<br /><br />1. <a href="http://sexualhealth.e-healthsource.com/?p=news1&id=524318">Licorice Derivative May Slow Karposi's Scarcoma</a> - According to the American Cancer Society's <a href="http://www.cancer.org/docroot/home/index.asp?level=0">website</a>, a "sarcoma is a cancer that develops in connective tissues such as cartilage, bone, fat, muscle, blood vessels, or fibrous tissues (related to tendons or ligaments). Kaposi sarcoma (KS) was named for Dr. Moritz Kaposi who first described it in 1872. For decades KS was considered a rare disease that mostly affected elderly men of Mediterranean or Jewish heritage, organ transplant patients, or young adult African men. This type is called classic Kaposi sarcoma." (For a detailed description of KS symptoms and it's general manifestation, please go <a href="http://www.cancer.org/docroot/cri/content/cri_2_4_1x_what_is_kaposis_sarcoma_21.asp?sitearea=cri">here</a>) Already, it seems that as there are not significant populations of any of these typical 'types' for whom KS usually strikes in Scandinavia, preventing against KS does not seem to be a likely reason for Scandinavian propensity towards salt liquorice.<br /><br />The ACS website continues by stating that in the last 20 years most cases of KS have developed in association with HIV and AIDS, esp. (as these diseases oft tend to be, among homosexual males). This strain is deferentiated and specified as AIDs-related KS. Like the latter, however, I don't believe that AID-related KS is the reason for Scandinavian licorice consumption, as HIV and AIDs are primarily found in homosexual male populations in Europe and percentages of infected persons are seemingly <a href="http://www.aidsmap.com/en/docs/AE856838-075F-489F-AFCD-9C528C7D04C7.asp">declining</a> (at a rate that is likely not corollary with licorice consumption!)<br /><br />2. <a href="http://www.annecollins.com/diet_news/lose-fat-licorice.htm">This Study</a> (on a website that admittedly looks largely non-academic and thus, none-too-trustworthy) claims that eating black liquorice may reduce body fat without any side effe<span style="font-size:100%;">cts. "Our study showed that licorice intake of 3.5 grams a day [roughly 1.4 ounces] reduced body fat up to 4% without any change in blood pressure," says co-author Carlo De Palo, MD, a clinical researcher at the University of Padua. "One explanation is that the strong taste of licorice suppresses the appetite," he adds.<br /><br />Perhaps Scandinavians eat licorice to stay thin, though a 4% decrease in body fat hardly seems like anything to write home about. Moreso, judging purely phenotypically, I think Scandinavians have a genetic disposition to be relatively thin, so I don't see a need for them to eat licorice to stay thin. Hmmm...<br /><br />3. <a href="http://www.worldhealth.net/p/230,5726.html">Drug Derived from Licorice Improves Memory</a> - A British study found that a drug <span style="font-style: italic;">derived</span> from licorice root improves memory in older men and may protect against age-related cognitive decline. The drug, carbenoxolone, which is usually used in treatment of stomach ulcers, boosted memory and slightly augmented subtle memory decline in healthy older men with type 2 diabetes.<br /><br /></span>This study is relatively useless to me for a number of reasons. First, the study was extremely small, with only 10 subjects. Second, researchers used word association and verbal tests to evaluate subject's memory, tests in which there is extreme variation in <span style="font-style: italic;">all</span> populations. Furthermore, if the researchers really wanted to test carbenoxolene's usage as a combatant against memory decline or towards memory improvement, it seems they would have needed to run a longitudinal study... not a series of piddly word association tests!<br /><br />The study goes on to talk about specific compounds, etc., but it does not mention if the chemicals found in carbenoxolene are available with regular consumption of liquorice or if it can only be garnered through a modified derivation process.<br /><br />4. <a href="http://www.bio-medicine.org/medicine-news/Treating-Latent-Herpes-With-Licorice--3337-1/">Treating Latent Herpes with Licorice</a> - This is another dodgy looking site, but claims that findings of a recent study have found that a compound in licorice shows promise for treatment of latent, lingering herpes virus. The compound, glycyrrhizic acid kills cells of the herpes virus that cause... guess what... Kaposi Sarcoma! Glycyrrhizic acid targets key proteins involved in the latency without causing a toxic effect on tissues. Researchers hope that their findings will lead to drugs that can eradicate herpes from the body altogether.<br /><br />Again, not really sure if this may be why Scandinavians eat so much licorice. Do they have a lot of herpes here?Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-1927201855013625502009-10-26T23:40:00.000+01:002009-10-27T04:42:48.272+01:00The Swedish concept of 'lagom', Jante Law, and the fact that Americans just can't escape!<span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">This post was drafted on September 12, 2008. Twelve days after I moved back to the United States from Denmark. The bottom of the post is <span style="font-style: italic;">italicized</span>, which generally means I didn't write it. I probably intended to use parts of it for commentary, and never got around to it. I'm not sure where I was going with the title of this post... "the fact that Americans just can't escape!" Hmm... I'll have to think about that, it's intriguing. I think I was going somewhere.</span><br /><br />A few days ago I discovered Anthony Bourdain's <span style="font-style: italic;">No Reservations</span> show on The Travel Channel. In this particular episode, he went to Sweden. In addition to watching Anthony eat pigs knuckles, try to glass blow his own bowl, visit Lapland to hunt reindeer (where he claims he had previously gotten "flat out lied to about the connection between Lapland and lap dancing"), and sing traditional (non-ABBA!) Swedish songs, I learned about the Swedish concept of 'lagom.' According to my favorite internet resource, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lagom">Wikipedia</a> (I know, I know!), Lagom is 'a Swedish word with no direct English equivalent, meaning "just the right amount", "enough, sufficient, adequate, just right", "in moderation", "balance," "suitable", "average." But whereas words like "sufficient" and "average suggest some degree of abstinence, scarcity, or failure, lagom carries the connotation of perfection or appropriateness.'<br /><br />The Wikipedia entry elaborates that "the word "lagom" has no exact translation in English, although similar words exist in some neighboring languages. [...] In a single word, lagom is said to describe the basis of the Swedish national psyche, one of consensus and equality. In recent times Sweden has developed greater tolerance for risk and failure as a result of severe recession in the early 1990s. Nonetheless, it is still widely considered ideal to be modest, avoid extremes, and seek optimal solutions."<br /><br />Hearing Bourdain talk about about this Swedish concept throughout the episode was interesting because it got me thinking about Scandinavian culture in general and discussions I've had with Danish friends about how the culture and mentality of the United States greatly differs from that which is followed de facto in Denmark. In Denmark (and the rest of Scandinavia, according to Wikipedia), they seem to adhere to a "phenomenon" known as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jante_Law">Jante Law</a>. Jante Law is apparently practiced under the different nomenclature of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tall_poppy_syndrome">Tall Poppy Syndrome</a> in the United Kingdom, Australia, Canada and New Zealand.<br /><br />Jante Law, or <span style="font-style: italic;">Janteloven </span>(The Jante Law) as it is called in Danish, is made up of ten variations on the the of homogeneity. "<i>Don't think you're anyone special or that you're better than us."</i><br /><p style="font-style: italic;">In the book, those Janters who transgress this unwritten "law" are regarded with suspicion and some hostility, as it goes against communal desire in the town, which is to preserve social stability and uniformity.</p> <p style="font-style: italic;">Later in his book, Sandemose adds an 11th rule, formulated as a question:</p> <p style="font-style: italic;">11. You think I don't know anything about you? (Du tror måske ikke jeg ved noget om dig?)</p> <p style="font-style: italic;">This is the threat of punishment—that other Janters will know something about those who transgress, which can be used to punish them. Emphasis can be either on know or on you, or both.</p> <p style="font-style: italic;">It has to be said that the general understanding of the law was an essential and fully integrated part of the Danish and Norwegian societies long before it was ever written down.<span style="text-decoration: underline;"> </span>Sandemose, however, explicitly said that he had seen the Jante law in operation in all countries he had been in.</p><span style="font-style: italic;"> The rules are not only applied outwards; Danes apply the rules equally towards themselves. This means that the rules of the Jante Law become a sort of social stabilizer where one does not wish to be either too high above or too far below others socially and economically.</span>Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-57346699385688078192009-10-26T23:33:00.000+01:002009-10-27T04:48:54.444+01:00From the archives...Tonight, I was looking for a post on dating, judgment scales and criteria and how being a member of one of the "higher sets" might not really be better. It sounds stupid or complicated, but I've been tumbling the idea around for awhile and really wanted to get something out, "on paper," to help solidify the idea a bit. It's probably something sociologists have considered and tested (observed), but I like to think I come up with new, brilliant ideas. I <span style="font-style: italic;">know</span> I started drafting the post somewhere (probably on my cell phone, because I can't find it anywhere else. Since I delete everything on my phone periodically, it's probably gone forever until I resurrect it... from scratch. Awesome.). Anyway, while I was looking around, I realized that I have 38 unpublished drafts for this blog. I might publish a few. I'm debating not even editing them and publishing them unfinished. We'll see. Stay tuned.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-26054516363151203182009-10-26T01:33:00.000+01:002009-10-26T01:36:01.189+01:00WMATA's New Workout Plan<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SuTu8RQ5CAI/AAAAAAAAAPU/ZvQnt_VABgE/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNTIuanBn%3F%3D-761191"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SuTu8RQ5CAI/AAAAAAAAAPU/ZvQnt_VABgE/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNTIuanBn%3F%3D-761191" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396700972690507778" /></a></p>On Sunday night, I was riding the red line home when I caught this guy shamelessly throwing it down and pulling it up. He got on at Tenleytown wearing a too-tight City Fitness shirt (if you don't have ripped muscles, guys, you should know that tight shirts "show off" fat and jiggly-bits, too.) and headphones. He found an open area and, as soon as the train started moving, begun doing pull ups on one of the overhead hold-on-so-you-don't-get-trampled-and-subsequently-killed-during-rush-hour bars (seriously, that's what they are called, translated from Italian, patented in Italy where the Metro cars are made). (Of course I did what I'm surprised other people didn't do... I blatantly whipped out my camera phone, snapped a pic and tried to muffle my laughter). I doubt those bars are made to support a 200+ lb guy doing push ups. Plus, didn't you just leave the gym?!? Maybe not. Maybe he just wanted to LOOK like it... And the Metro is really his poor-man's gym...? I got off at the next station, Friendship Heights, so I don't know if he also did shuttle runs or sit ups, but I wouldn't be surprised. I see it, you see it.
<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-59442199155095448452009-10-25T19:44:00.000+01:002009-10-25T19:46:37.283+01:00An English take on religion?<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SuSdDWlA2NI/AAAAAAAAAPM/MpZeMJMKk9U/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNTEuanBn%3F%3D-797284"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SuSdDWlA2NI/AAAAAAAAAPM/MpZeMJMKk9U/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNTEuanBn%3F%3D-797284" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396610934422690002" /></a></p>Spotted on a Volvo in the parking lot at Giant in Bethesda, MD. The car also had a Sweden sticker, I don't know if that's because the car is Swedish, the owner, or both.<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-45398864641691717402009-10-17T19:11:00.000+02:002009-10-17T19:13:40.140+02:00Sarah Ave<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/Stn7RGWEOeI/AAAAAAAAAPE/M7EVQqQvVT0/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNDQuanBn%3F%3D-720141"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/Stn7RGWEOeI/AAAAAAAAAPE/M7EVQqQvVT0/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNDQuanBn%3F%3D-720141" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393618299932391906" /></a></p>I'm sure this would be an awesome place to live. Too bad it's in Linthicum, Maryland, which isn't the nicest/prettiest/most happenin' place in the world...<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-73216948656839551282009-10-12T17:35:00.000+02:002009-10-12T17:39:47.422+02:00Times are tough<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/StNNw70YZpI/AAAAAAAAAO8/Z_7lJYXf67o/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNDAuanBn%3F%3D-787423"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/StNNw70YZpI/AAAAAAAAAO8/Z_7lJYXf67o/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxNDAuanBn%3F%3D-787423" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391738681979070098" /></a></p>Spotted in today's Washington Post.<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-79286834696404057032009-09-19T04:51:00.000+02:002009-09-19T04:56:04.041+02:00Cheap tricks<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SrRIRL0189I/AAAAAAAAAO0/ObUxoBUrrzI/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxMjcuanBn%3F%3D-764042"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/SrRIRL0189I/AAAAAAAAAO0/ObUxoBUrrzI/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxMjcuanBn%3F%3D-764042" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383006914683990994" /></a></p>Spotted at a gay sports bar on U Street, a sign in the unisex bathroom that tries to trick you into thinking you are seeing double:<p>* I know, I think "gay" and "sports" are kind of oxymoronic, or at least not the most obvious pairing, too. Couldn't they just recreate/reopen the [now defuct because, seriously, who wants to eat greasy burgers in the presence of models?] Fashion Cafe? Le sigh.<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-65940790001742215052009-08-29T21:08:00.000+02:002009-08-29T21:10:15.575+02:00Control Center at the Newseum<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/Spl9F-ECn4I/AAAAAAAAAOs/yZRbL7U-Y68/s1600-h/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxMDAuanBn%3F%3D-715577"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wbWFU_6o-Ac/Spl9F-ECn4I/AAAAAAAAAOs/yZRbL7U-Y68/s320/%3D%3Futf-8%3FB%3FSU1HMDAxMDAuanBn%3F%3D-715577" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375465171756162946" /></a></p>The Newseum is touts itself as "one of the most technologically advanced museums in the world." These guys sit in the glass-enclosed control center. Newseum visitors can watch them work as part of the overall experience. As I watched this guy, he was g-chatting. Slacker. <br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-66599130103323042362009-08-29T15:39:00.003+02:002009-08-29T15:44:48.111+02:00Layoff CakeI was recently put in charge of planning a going away party for a colleague who moved away, Jess. I pride myself on my hostessing skills, so I arranged for music, food, drinks, wine and a fancy <span class="il">cake</span>, which was to be delivered to the office this afternoon.<br /><br />The <span class="il">cake</span> was delivered around 1:15pm, two hours ahead of schedule, while I was in the middle of a conference call. My colleague, Monica, ran out to get the <span class="il">cake</span> and tip the delivery guy. She was gone for awhile. She came back with a worried look on her face, just as I was finishing my call.<br /><br />"Okay, don't freak out, I fixed it," she assured me.<br /><br />"Fixed what?" I asked.<br /><br />Apparently the <span class="il">cake</span> was delivered and read "We'll miss you, Jeff" instead of "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">JeSS</span>." To make matters worse, the guy covering reception when the <span class="il">cake</span> was named Jeff, so when he opened the box to peek, he thought he was getting fired. A <span class="il">layoff</span> <span class="il">cake</span>. Here, eat your sorrow.<br /><br />Monica immediately took the <span class="il">cake</span> to the kitchen to do damage control. She lifted the bottom two swoops of the (luckily cursive) <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">f's</span> off. It looked more Jess-like.<br /><br />As we were in the kitchen admiring her skills, the CEO and another high-ranking staff member walked in. The CEO peeked over my shoulder and said "That's a beautiful cake! Who's it for?"<br /><br />"Thanks," I replied, "It's for Jess. We're having a going away party for her at 4... you should come!" (I hadn't previously invited the CEO because I work in a pretty big office and, frankly, I'm nervous about sending an email to the CEO.)<br /><br />"I'd love to! I'll definitely be there!" the CEO affirmed. "...I could have sworn the cake said Jeff, though...!"<br /><br />Monica and I stand there stupidly for a good ten seconds before responding, dryly, "It did."<br /><br />Way to appear competent.<br /><br />Luckily, the cake was delicious. Jess was sent off with a bang, and Jeff is still happily employed.Sarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6853555052781762533.post-48884167788143549772009-08-29T00:29:00.000+02:002009-08-29T00:30:54.402+02:00False AdvertisingWashington Sports Club, why do you have a Metro Ad with a middle aged man in a wearing a wetsuit, holding a surfboard, accompanied by text that reads "exercising slows signs of aging." Last I checked, you can't surf at WSC. Pretty sure you don't even have pools. Why don't you show someone on a treadmill? You're probably doing a better job tempting people to use potential membership money to buy a beach pass. Just sayin'. <p>Sorry folks, no picture. Ill work on it.<br>Sent via BlackBerry by AT&TSarahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03172258803318527990noreply@blogger.com2