A ROSE IS A ROSE

A climbing rose bush (which technically is a misnomer because roses never truly ‘climb’) can make a yard come alive so quickly! So why not just stick these devils in every nook to give life and color to bleak landscapes? Because, like everything else in the growing world (people included) it is an unpredictable little thing. A little disturbance and it will falter, wither and die.

Some, though, are (like humans) hardy and tough and they can stand up to the frost and the animals and the poor soil and the drought and the negligent gardener. It’s good to surround yourself with resilient types (flowers and people) if only because they free up your time to deal with the truly needy among us. Or, for the needy growth spurts of typically hardy plants (or people).

A SAD BLOGGER MOOD; IF YOU WANNA BE HAPPY, SKIP THIS POST.

There are two very real reasons why I cannot get myself to write a chipper post:

1. The pernicious rain did not creep up the un-solarium floor. It did not flood the basement. But it did crack the roof and is currently flooding the house from above. As it’s a holiday week-end, all we can do is run with buckets. Unless someone has a more clever idea?

2. I had been talking to a friend about an article that I’d read on Friday about alternative medicine. It was suggested that I blog about it, though I put it off for a while, what with the rain and the market and all sundry issues.

The study attempted to document how Americans are increasingly turning to alternative medicine for relief from life’s aches and pains. It was a curious study in that it listed a number of “holistic remedies” that I would not myself have thought to include under the rubric of alternative medicine: “prayer,” for example. If you pray for relief, is it really that you regard this as the equivalent to (or a replacement for) popping a pill with medicinal properties? It doesn’t take much to imagine that many pray for any number of convoluted reasons, perhaps too complicated to untangle for the purposes of a simple survey.

Or, another curiosity: “yoga.” A friend asked me to go with her to a yoga class this coming Wednesday. I balked: why invest an hour and a half to stretching? (Truthfully I balked because she is almost 20 years younger than I and the idea of us stretching together was … disheartening.) Ultimately she prevailed and so we’re set to go Wednesday. Which means I probably wont have time for my regular gym and/or walking. There’s only so much time one can invest in body repair in the course of a day. But are any of these “alternative healing?” I didn’t think so. I never hum meditatively when I walk or run, I do not focus on finding an inner sanctum, nor do I seek to eradicate poisons that that have seized control of my body.

But then, yesterday, something terribly sad happened and suddenly writing about all this became hugely more complicated.

I received an email from a very good friend who lives across the ocean. And I am hoping that he does not mind that I include just a fragment of his message. He writes:

My father passed away on the 30th of April, three weeks short of his 83 birthday, 59 years to the day after he was liberated from the Dachau concentration camp…But there is a more tragic side of this story. As I have told you my parents have been Christian Scientists for the last 15 years. Never went to see a doctor (except when my mother broke her leg), did not take any medicines and did not ever want to talk about their health. They believed in spiritual healing, God's ever-present love and harmony. Material world is an illusion. Mind not just over but instead of matter. Beautiful ideas and they do work - as I have witnessed several times. But perhaps not always...

You can tell where this is heading. The old man died even though he should have, could have lived. Here, prayer was indeed used as an alternative form of healing. And it became not an addition to, but a substitute for scientifically-driven medicine.

Perhaps one of the problems is that we have created this dichotomy of ‘alternative’ and ‘conventional.’ We now know that many of the alternative forms ought to have been studied and incorporated into conventional practice, but for any number of economic, social and political reasons they had been pushed to the side. Yoga may well be on that list. Certainly herbs and other non-conventional therapies have medicinal benefits that have been ignored for years. To me, alternative thus simply comes to mean “scientifically untested.”

But insofar as science cannot run tests for all illness and every permutation of every therapy, there appears good reason to try untested cures especially under desperate conditions. This would include conventional medicines used in unconventional ways (who would have thought, for example, that aspirin may decrease the likelihood of breast cancer?). My mother pops some ten or more non-conventional pills every day. She is strong as a horse for her age. She swears by her various remedies, though she also has another ten or so conventional medicines that she takes. She is a walking pill machine.

It becomes complicated when spiritual matters enter into the equation. Science is only now beginning to investigate the relationship between spiritual well-being and the likelihood of healing (the most recent research that I’ve come across does not support a link between positive thoughts and healing: cancer patients who had a better, more hopeful outlook about their prognosis were NOT more likely to overcome their illness; and, those that could not improve their outlook, were doubly burdened by their depression and their guilt for not overcoming their depression).

So, here I am, on this wet, drippy day, thinking about all this and feeling terribly sad for my friend who is so unhappy. And for the roof that is leaking. These two issues are not at the same level of sadness, to be sure, but they coincide to make me want to go out and do some brisk walking right now. Not for spiritual healing purposes, but to distract myself from the realities that are before me.

MONSOON SEASON?

My secret other life shivered through the deluge, then took on a rosy glow from the ovens.

...And it rained and rained and rained. And then it really rained. And then it poured. The wind and rain together caused temperatures to plummet. It was not a fun day to be L’Etoile’s forager, nor was it fun to be a farmer at the Market.

But the colors of the flowers looked so vibrant, even under the gray skies of the day.



The list of foods needed for the restaurant was woefully large on this wet Market day. 8 pounds of sauté spinach, 3 pounds of soup spinach and 6 pounds of salad spinach. 30 pounds of asparagus. 3 pounds of angelica, 2 pounds of tarragon. Cheeses: camembert, Fantome goat (Dane County’s biggest goat advocate is back!), nutty Swiss. 11 quarts of strawberries (pictured here: only Jordan Produce has them because they are lucky enough to have a southern-facing slope), 10 pounds of pea pods, edible flowers, on and on and on. And anything else that is new and exciting. It took five trips around the square (plus one with Odessa) to get it done. In the pouring rain.

But without misery there is no appreciation for the little things: like a hot oven. Odessa asked me to stay on to do some cooking and food prepping and I happily agreed. Toasting fresh breadcrumbs in the oven suddenly brought forth delicious moments of warmth. Typically it is an tedious task because you have to stoop (never bend!) and check for doneness too often. Today? Bliss. So warm!

When I last cooked for L’Etoile (a couple of years back) I had graduated from being a line-cook to being up there with the chef types, hence I now have my own coat. (Though technically, in the hierarchy of the restaurant, there is only one chef and we know who SHE is; to get her attention, you need only call out “Chef!” and it’s clear who is being summoned.)




And a l’Etoile cap, of course. It’s good to be wearing them again.


The most fun thing to make this afternoon? Fennel pesto with Stravecchio cheese. The most tedious? Nothing, even chopping up the spinach and the shallots was a good. To work with the hands, to allow my mind to focus on the task before me, at the same time that I could take in the steady work of my fellow cooks is pretty much equivalent for me to a day at the spa.

Tired now, but in a good way. And the glow from the ovens is still with me.

THE BLOG AS AN EDUCATIONAL TOOL

Still searching around and testing out different blog functions, I came across this piece of advice today from someone who is perhaps the business traveler par excellence (he spends, I'm told, some 40 nights per year at home; the story was in today's IHT) and so I thought I'd share it with the blogworld of travelers to educate and inform: never, ever leave those little plastic key cards in hotel rooms or other public places after you've checked out. You THINK they are all about entering your hotel room. In reality, most have encrypted information on you as well, including your credit card number.* The advice is to return them to the front desk at check-out.

*I do have to wonder, though, how many potential thieves know this AND are able to access the info AND indeed do make use of that ability, or are even on the prowl for left-behind keys. It seems remote to me, at about the same level of remoteness as someone entering a friends' house I guess. Last year he told me to stop by their place and pick up something while they were away. I protested that I didn't have the key. He answered "Neither do I, I just don't typically lock the door.**"

** Or, the same level of remoteness as having a would-be thief now search for information on my past and present friends after having read this post and having thus found out that one of these people may indeed leave the door unlocked upon occasion. Hmmm. That suddenly doesn't seem that remote. Okay then, that story about the friend and the key? Completely fabricated.

AND IN THE MEANTIME, THE MAGIC OF EARLY MORNING SUNSHINE TAKES HOLD

...of the branches of the tree outside my office window.

How can one not like being up at the wee hours of the morning?

BLOG MARGINALIA

I have noticed recently that political blog posts, while interesting, are far less provocative than the comments they inspire. Often a discussion (argument) ensues between the poster and an anonymous reader* and the third party, the reader, watches it unfold, tempted to jump in, yet also fascinated by the discourse itself-- a private argument voyeurism of sorts, for it has the appearance of being private, on the margins, accessible only to the committed, the motivated, the impassioned (or the bored).

In one recent round, a reader had responded to Ann’s blog post on the “blatantly partisan blogosphere” thus:

Isn't there really only one kind of centrist, the ideological centrist?

The ideological centrist is one whose beliefs are not driven by a core ideology that being equality vs. liberty. The ideological centrist is more concerned with practical results and will disregard the the liberty vs. equality debate. The centrist, however, will always have an ideological enemy because you can't have both liberty and equality. You will always either have more of one and less of the other.

How could one resist this provocation? For in creating this dichotomy, the Anonymous poster has both taken the steam out of the centrist position by equating it with an extreme pragmatism it doesn’t deserve (Ann’s rebuttal) and expunged the possibility of creating economic or social justice (I assume the Commentator meant economic, but this was not specified) without trampling on personal freedom (to spend? to function without government?) – at which point I had to jump in, of course, because, in my view, categorical pronouncements of this nature have to be discouraged even if they appear only on the margins of a blog post.

And all this is taking place on the side, while the happy blog reader reads on, unaware, looking for the next post, the next quirky blogger observation.

Still, I hold to my previous post’s declaration: I don’t want a “Comment” function here! I am not even sure yet how politicized this blog will be in the future. June 1st – the date for blog transformations – is fast approaching and I have done nothing, NOTHING to puff up the blog sails and head toward the changes that I am determined to make.

* I, too, dislike profoundly the new Blogger comment format which encourages anonymous posts; even I prefer to simply post an anonymous comment (and have done so on numerous blogs) than to go through more elaborate posting procedures called forth by Blogger. As a result, the reader never know whether the anonymous commentator is a new voice or an old voice saying new things. Annoying!

WINING AND DINING MYSELF

Since, for one reason or another, I have not had a regular dinner since Saturday, I decided last night to treat myself to a normal evening meal. I went somewhere where I'd not been before, though I certainly know the dining space from its previous restaurant incarnations.

Inside, the transformation to this more trendy-feeling dining room was completely successful. As for the food? I asked them to modify an appetizer – cut out the meats and concentrate on the Napa cabbage, cilantro and sprouts and they did, charged me half the price of the original and produced and exceptional, spicy and substantial appetizer (for $4.95). From the main menu I wanted something ‘standard,’ what anyone would order on a typical night. I opted for the Kung Pao shrimp with brown basmati rice and got a huge dish that was loaded with a fresh spinach sauté and monster (and not overcooked! yes!!) shrimp, priced at $8.95. The wines – their house glass of Chardonnay was under $5. So, an ample meal with fresh ingredients and good use of spices at $20 (before tip). Can you guess where*? P.S. For those who like trendy drinks, I hear their ginger-infused martini is cool – and I thought the bar ambience itself was quite nice.

*Lacking a “Comments” section (I know, I know, I've had many comments about the lack of 'Comments.' My own comment on that? 'Je refuse.') forces me to make up potential reader responses:
(Anonymous): It must be Big Bowl?
(NC): No, not Big Bowl, though there are definite similarities.

(From the East Coast): You’re not in Madison anymore! I’ve been to Madison – there is no good Asian or pan-Asian restaurant in the entire town.
(NC): You East Coast people are all the same. You think things never change here. Just because Imperial Gardens has a menu that looks remarkably identical to the menu I first encountered there some 20+ years ago, does not mean that ALL Asian restaurants are going to follow in its wake.

(A FoodFight Enthusiast): We are better than Lettuce Entertain You! We’ve got Firefly!
(NC): A biased but accurate answer. I am a card-carrying Lettuce Entertain You once-frequent diner and a fan of what they did to the Chicago dining scene (they pumped money into restaurants that they thought could revamp and produce a hefty loyal following and it worked). I am happy that Madison is benefiting from a similar entrepreneurial dining spirit.

ME, INTERESTED IN NUMBERS??

Or: what I found this morning in a paper that I never otherwise read: numbers, numbers everywhere!

It's rare that I am sitting in a coffee shop early in the morning reading the Wisconsin State Journal, but today was just such a day. I was in my office early today. So early, as a matter of fact, that I witnessed this sunrise out my window (forgive the slant, I am, after all, on a hill):

It is imperative to fill yourself with something that'll really knock your eyes open on such mornings and so I headed to Starbucks for a strong shot of espresso (but greatly diluted by milk so who am I kidding). There I picked up a paper tossed aside by someone else. I am generally dismissive of this paper, taking a position of haughty superiority, perhaps, in flaunting my commitment to the NYT or WashPost or the IHT instead.

But today I actually learned something from our local rag. There were a number of articles that threw out numbers and they were not uninteresting numbers. I'll give you four examples (directly quoting from the paper)of stories that piqued my curiosity, in the order that they appeared in the paper:

1. Only 63% of 4 year college students earn a college degree within 6 years (this is in the entire US)... At UW Madison, the 6 year graduation rate for white students is 76.9%, compared to 52.1% for minorities... America is almost unique among industrialized countries in failing [in recent years] to improve its graduation rate. [Reasons for failure to complete college here: lack of academic preparedness, lack of personal attention given by colleges to the needs of students, and the need to quit and go home to get a job and care for families.]

2. Two-thirds of divorces after age 40 are initiated by wives. The survey found that women over age 40 seemed more aware of problems in their marriage while men were more likely to be caught off-guard by their divorces. 26% of men said they 'never saw it coming' compared with 14% of women.

3. Immigrants who come to the U.S. [that would be me!] live an average of 3 years longer than people born here [oh no, I don't want to usurp the bounty and use it to my own advantage!]. A growing body of evidence indicates the life span difference reflects both immigrants' innate vitality and their reluctance to embrace Americans' drive-through, drive-everywhere mentality (bold added).

4. This year's top 10 finalists (in the 16th annual National Geographic Bee) were all boys. Bo Sun of Ladysmith WI was among them. [N.b. I would say that the winning Q wasn't that hard compared to all Qs preceding it. The Q: Peshawar, in Pakistan, has had strategic importance for centuries because of its location near what historic pass? A: Khyber Pass. Comment: Forgive me for sounding provincial, but do we even know of any other Pass in that area?]

I would have missed all this had I only done a computer scan of my standard press. Of course, I am not going to mention the other stories, the ones that make me convinced that I can never really like the Journal. Let's just give it one moment of glory and not look critically beyond these few interesting pieces.

WHY SOME BLOG IN THE BATHROOM and other abstruse observations on a hobby

Rarely have I wanted to parrot a blogger's comments as much as I did Ann's today on the NYT article that gives extensive if rather narrow and banal comments on bloggers who like to blog. I wont say a word more. Read her analysis of the article and just assume it could easily have been mine as well.

Passion for anything -- including work, family, love, food, travel, literature, bird-watching -- anything at all, always irritates the passionless.

MORE IRRELEVANT NOTES FROM AN IRRLEVANT DAY

That row of breakfast rolls from today’s breakfast in the previous post? That may have been the highlight of the day. No, wait, I have to do better than that. Other highlights:

- Sitting in a coffee shop and grading exams, I looked up to notice that a colleague was sitting at the table next to mine doing exactly the same thing. It was a good reason to stop grading and start distracting each other. I think she was better at the grading while I was better at the distracting.

- I went to the bank to withdraw all the money and fly off to some distant destination. It just seemed the clever thing to do, an investment in a worry-free existence. Ah, to travel, to see the world and let the rest toil and fret about small things like bills and tuitions and other trivialities. But on the way, I got side-tracked by this sign (on the right here). I happen to know that this particular Fest makes one of my distant readers very happy and so I stood there and contemplated the unfairness of life. Here I am, happy not to be consuming anything from the Brat Fest, while there she is, far away, wanting so much to bite into that greasy little sausage from the Fest grill. By the time I finished with these profound reflections, the bank was closed and so I could not run anywhere at all.

- Because I was being so good about grading, I rewarded myself with not only the delicious junk breakfast but also a delicious junk dinner: MANY handfuls of nuts, a bowl of soup (that part was healthy) and a huge piece of cinnamon something or other. I am also thinking that a further desert is in order. After all, coffee shops have limited menu offerings. If there are only desserts here, what can I do, right?

- A friend sent e-photos of a baby just born to one of my former students. The baby looked like -- a real newborn. There is something predictably newborn-like about freshly born babies. There's little else you can add to that description, unless they also have a huge mass of hair or an usual feature or an odd number of toes.

- I do believe the rest of America is currently watching American Idol. The build up has been tremendous. I know some of the people who voted. To them, I say this: I hope that if you can only have the results fall your way in one election in the next six months that it wont be the elections leading to the selection of the American Idol.

A PUZZLER AND A TEMPTATION

An early office visit revealed this outside (my window is large and beautiful and looks out on Bascom Mall):

What the heck? Cows on campus? An athletic event? What?





A breakfast break from grading put me in sight of these sweet little things.
<--

The up-side: it reminds me of wonderful vacation breakfasts. I mean, it’s not the type of stuff one has on a daily basis. Still, a reward for grading is in order, right?

The down-side: this is no way to start a ‘healthy eating’ day! After a breakfast of this sort, what does one do, go to Noodles for lunch, like this blogger?

EMAIL CAN BE A GOOD THING!

Something I learned today: The blogging lawyer from St. Croix, V.I. wrote the following in an email that responded to an earlier post of mine:

We don't wear tropical shirts or sandals to court, but we DO wear them to the office (I have, in fact, worn sandy flip-flops to work). Most attorneys I know have one suit jacket that they keep in their office for court appearances and that's the extent of their formal, "lawyer" wardrobe.

Comment: I would enjoy wearing sandy flip-flops to work.

Another thing that I learned today: Nuts do not a dinner make.

Comment: if you forget to eat dinner by 9, you should not think that nuts will be a good alternative. You should make or get dinner after you remember.

Yet another thing I learned today: Even when you think your sister is not reading your blog, she may be reading your blog. One of the nice emails I got today came from her and in it she wrote:
“Your travel descriptions were great. You should be doing this for a living -- get paid to travel and write about it.” I include this quote not for any other reason but because I think it was a genuinely sweet thing for her to say and because it can serve as a lesson (see comment).

Comment: I should learn not to make assumptions, jump to conclusions and do all those other awful things one does in the absence of information. I should learn this and I WILL learn this. I PROMISE!!

And one more thing that I learned today: Online translations are amusing in their worthlessness. My new friend in Japan, Masahiko, who speaks almost no English, periodically writes in Japanese and then submits his note to an ‘automatic Net translator.’ Here are portions of his email from today:

Nina looks forward to meeting it by mail from now though it is lonely
because it came back to America.

Do your best, and come to Japan again in the next year though Nina is
thought work to become hard after the return, too.

Be relieved because both Kazumi and I are cheering it up.

Well, it mails it again.

I can only guess what my reply translated to in Japanese.

QUIZ: GIVERNY, OR NINA'S GARDEN YESTERDAY?

Too easy? I know, I know, it's not the one flower, it's the entirety that counts. Still, this is one heck of a pretty little columbine.

SECRETIVE

You’re darn right, Tonya, I cling to my private thoughts with true survivor-of-political-dictatorship (that it was communist is irrelevant) paranoia and out of a desperate need for guarded secrecy to ensure self-preservation (see Tonya’s blog here)! Of course I do! You never know, YOU NEVER KNOW who will stab your back today let alone tomorrow. I say ‘favorite this’ or ‘boo-hiss on that’ and it’ll make its way to the slimy hands of some holed-in bureaucrat who is then going to make sure that every employer, politician, and neighbor is aware of my proclivities and inclinations.

Same goes for friends, colleagues, students, loved ones. You tell them what you like or don’t like and you are liable to be smeared, ridiculed, maligned, taken apart limb by limb and given over to the dogs the next day. (I checked the closet and underneath the bed before I wrote that. YOU NEVER KNOW. That I am under the grip of acute paranoia can be evidenced by the fact that I have not moved more than two feet from my spot of 8 hours ago. I just don’t trust the next room, the corridor, they seem full of mechanical contraptions and eerie ghost like-shadows, waiting to NAB me.)

Saying the wrong thing is the biggest fear of anyone raised in troubled times, political and personal, and I belong to that group, yes I do and so no one, NO ONE will ever know what my favorite movie** is. Ever.*

*I was emboldened to mention movies that ruled my life at age 15, 16 and 18 (see Sunday post). That was risky enough. The fallout is just beginning to be felt.
**I also do agree that Blogger is but another marketer of Friendster-like connections. (btw, who are the Olson twins?)

WAKE UP, BEAR, IT’S CHRISTMAS!

So went the children’s story (I’m talking about VERY SMALL children) about a bear, who, because of hibernation, almost slept through the holiday. It is an irrelevant little book, with not much of a story line and, as I recall, rather straightforward illustrations.

But the title, for some reason, has stayed with me over the years. It pops up in my mind when I am walking through a day in a stupor brought on by little sleep and who knows what else and I think I need a jolt. Coffee is the substance of first choice, but to get to coffee, one must first arise and move toward a coffee container. And so there must be some motivation.

The book title, bizarrely enough, flashes in my head and there I have it! That jolt, that needed reminder that there is a day through which one must move in some state of alertness. Christmas or not, there is a day out there.

It’s strange what drivel and nonsense come back to either haunt us or help us in moments when the day seems too confusing and never-ending.

HAS THIS BLOG BECOME A RUNNING COMMENTARY ON CROISSANTS, CREEKS AND CULVERTS?

A friend and fellow blogger asked today why I had not posted a single word about my legal work in Japan. This is not the first time I got asked this question. It’s as if the ‘law’ has completely exited from this blog so that it can no longer even hold the title of ‘blawg.’ It cannot be called a bpoliticlog either. What happened?? Has the unbearable lightness of being me pulverized all ideas of any substance? Or at least pushed them aside into a complete state of dormancy? Have I entered into some kind of partnership with mr. Irrelevance and ms. Trivia?

As I said earlier, I am rethinking what this blog should be about. In Japan I was spending quite a lot of time on the non-work postings and it was impossible to imagine that anyone would want to read even more text than I had already included.

But that was then. Perhaps this week-end I’ll take a stab at creating some blogorder and in so doing I’ll allow space for the blawg that is within me. Perhaps I can then revisit this other side of my travels to Japan. Perhaps. Patience, patience, we have many a calm day before us.

WINE SNOBS AND DINNER PRICES

A blogger (here) mentioned an extreme episode of wine snobbery that she experienced while eating at L’Etoile.

It breaks my heart when that happens! (Not literally, but you get the point – I so dislike wine snobbery.) It is no secret to those who know me that I do like wine. I especially like it when it is made by a small family-run operation, from grapes grown on small strips of land. Why? Because while others are imagining pears, lemons, minerals, woodsiness, etc on the palate while sipping wine, I am imagining the hard work, the care, the love that went into the making of it. You cannot be a small producer and not love your work because it is so very tough and extremely unpredictable in its result. One grower told me that he was happy that he had little kids, otherwise for sure he would have committed suicide in years when everything in wine-making failed him.

Wines should never break anyone’s budget. There are so many good inexpensive wines out there! Less than $10 per bottle, yes, of course – so many interesting, enjoyable bottles that complement meals and can be had for small prices. The ones that top $30 per bottle are already over the top – to be enjoyed by those who truly do not know where to lay down their cash. I always think that we in this country are such impatient fools, spending huge sums on wines that have been aged because we are used to instant gratification. Elsewhere, if people truly love the complexity of older, more expensive wines, they buy them young (and cheap) and put them away for a requisite number of years, to be enjoyed later.

Restaurant wines drive me insane: the mark up is two to three times the cost of the wine. Again, this is so unique to our way of dining. Elsewhere, the basic table wine is often the price of bottled water. And no waiter should ever, EVER even bat an eye if you ask for an inexpensive ‘house wine.’ Of course, this category of wine does not exist at l’Etoile… Sigh… L’Etoile’s prices all around are steep. If it’s any consolation, the restaurant doesn’t get fat on its dinner service. The cost of ingredients and the labor-intensive work makes each dish prohibitively pricey to prepare. L’Etoile makes up deficits incurred during slow days by selling croissants at the Market Café!

ISLAND PEOPLE

In one day I had two encounters with island law types. I received an email from the author of this blog, based in St. Croix of the U.S. Virgin Islands, and I had lunch with a friend who spent a year with her husband studying and practicing law in Palau. I’m told that in Palau, there is indeed a law of the indigenous people, supplemented by random suggestive rather than binding case and statutory law from the States. I would assume that in the Virgin Islands the primary law IS the U.S. law.

But what’s it like to be an attorney on the islands? Do people walk to court with sand in their sandals? Do they wear breezy, patterned shirts with palm trees on them? Am I creating images that not only stereotype, but also demonstrate my complete ignorance about island life?

More importantly, how did these law people find such interesting places to apply to for jobs, while my biggest venture into the world Out There after law school was to send inquiry letters to Milwaukee firms? I think I missed the boat on that one. Literally.

WHERE TO EAT IN MADISON?

A friend and fellow blogger succumbed to the “favorites” list mania (posting on the topic here, responding to a call for favorites here). In spite of my dire warnings about favoring this or that (see post below), he rolled forth with a listing of top three restaurants (in three separate categories), overall bottom five as well, and explanations justifying placement. Now, as a self-proclaimed foodie, I am going to say that his lists are not bad. Perhaps his rant against Mickey’s is a little odd given his favoring of Hubbard’s, but still, one can forgive – it is a trivial error.

But let’s go back to the top of the top. Where in that little pile is Harvest? I mean, granted, who am I to squabble about the virtues of the place where I choose to lay down my wimpy talents, but still, assuming l’Etoile rules, where, after that, is Harvest?

As for chains, please scratch Macaroni Grill and replace it with Big Bowl. For sure!

Finally, my own personal announcement of the bravery award: that my pal should think he can continue to live, work, and eat and not bear the wrath of not listing Chautara attests to his strong moral fiber and unwillingness to succumb to the PC trend of including it on all lists favoring anything at all in Madison, including ‘favorite place to encounter other favorite place aficionados.’ For this alone, one should trust his listings and give him the reigns to freely expound on the subject of food henceforth. [Though, in all fairness, anyone writing on the topic should right away explain what they do and do not eat. I happen to know that this particular blogger is a semi-vegetarian. Irrelevant? Not really: I may not myself put Smoky’s on a top anything list, but it certainly explains why this blogger blows Smoky’s off without so much as a wink. I have yet to meet anyone who would rank Smoky’s as a superior eating place based on its caraway-laden cottage cheese side-dish, or its iceberg lettuce salad alone, but those who eat beef do swear by the place.]

LEARNED HAND AND GUIDO CALABRESI’S WIFE ARE NOTED AT YALE GRADUATION WHILE THE BUSH FAMILY LAYS LOW

Today marks the first day of the graduation ceremonies on the Yale campus. I understand that every effort was made to keep politics away from the podium. President Bush, though in New Haven, is not going to make an appearance at any of the ceremonial events. His graduating daughter, too, skipped the speeches today.

…And so she failed to hear filmmaker Ken Burns say the following (this from the AP):

Without mentioning Bush by name, Burns drew parallels between today's political leaders and the Iraq war, versus Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War, which he chronicled in an award-winning film series.

Both wars threatened to tear the country apart, Burns said.

"Steel yourselves. Your generation must repair this damage, and it will not be easy," Burns told the seniors.

Burns quoted famed jurist Learned Hand as saying, "Liberty is never being too sure you're right."

"Somehow recently, though, we have replaced our usual and healthy doubt with an arrogance and belligerence that resembles more the ancient and now fallen empires of our history books than a modern compassionate democracy," Burns said, to applause from the 1,300 graduates and their families and friends.

…But I wonder if she noted the protesters outside the home of the University president (where the Bushes were staying for a while this week-end)? And who exactly was protesting? From the AP release:

The crowd was a mix of students and older Yale graduates.

Anne Tyler Calabresi, 69, of Woodbridge, said she was protesting on behalf of herself and her husband, Federal Appeals Judge Guido Calabresi, a Yale graduate and former dean of the Yale School of Law.

"I'm profoundly worried about the way this country is going," she said. "And I'm furious about the lies George Bush has told to us again and again. He has led us into a war that is destroying our reputation around the world and creating implacable enemies around the world that we didn't have one year ago."