Of Faith, Beach Cottages and Lukewarm Coffee

Posted on May 17, 2013 by Deborah White

I write this to the gentle sound of ripples lapping the Atlantic shore, from a rustic beachfront cottage on Long Island Sound, generous cup of coffee at hand.

I write this on the eve of our youngest graduating from an elite university, one of the world’s finest. She’s garnered honors and accolades, and will be elaborately feted, along with classmates, over the next few days.

I write this knowing, though, that she has personal challenges, and no job or immediate Plan B other than moving back home. And the contrast between public expectations and private reality feels like embarrassing, albeit momentary, failure.

I write this while in gloriously good middle-aged health, despite needing to lose more than a little weight. Exercise, food choices, stress strategies, and genetic-lottery good luck have fused to move me forward to this sublime day, gazing at the shell-strewn beach 20 feet beyond this open window.

I write this, too, as a friend lays dying from pancreatic cancer. She has everything to live for: family, friends, love, a secure and happy future. But she won’t live to see 2014.

I write this in the aftermath of being treated like a crook and common thief for wanting to use a debit card to secure a car we fully paid for a month ago. (Never use Avis. Ever…) But I also write this as someone who went down the street (to Hertz), and without reservations, easily rented a top-of-the-line SUV for $100 less than the the first (dilapidated!) vehicle.

I write this as a citizen of the greatest country in world history, a nation built on the fair promise of freedom, opportunity, and dignity for all people. On the enlightened recognition that all people are created equal, and endowed by their gracious Creator with natural rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

I write this, though, as a political analyst who is painfully aware of the deception, ugly gamesmanship, and destructive greed that bogs down national leadership of all political leanings.

I write this to the gentle sound of ripples lapping the Atlantic shore, from a charming, rustic-chic beachfront cottage on Long Island Sound.

But the Connecticut sky is gray blue and flecked with clouds. Salty sea stench fills my senses. The coffee is lukewarm.

Life is mysterious and ebbing and capricious. Life is so very beautiful and precious. Life is hard, too. Life is victorious gain, but it’s also filled with loss.

I write this to remind myself again that life is not perfect. That despite appearances, no one’s life is perfect. That we all struggle. That we all strive to live a life of balance between joy and sorrow, realistic optimism and cruel reality, generous love and callous self-interest.

That our reality depends on how we choose to view the world, the event, the person. And if we choose to love.

I write this to remind myself again “… that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

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Dishes Men Like, Circa 1952

Posted on April 17, 2013 by Deborah White


From my collection of mid-20th century cookbooks and booklets.

Copyright 1952, 61 pages of recipes by the Lea & Perrins Company, makers of Worcestershire Sauce.

From page 2, the suggestion is made that husbands might occasionally participate in cooking:

“If you have a husband who likes to cook, pamper him. Encourage him! You are lucky indeed, even though you find yourself only a fetch-and-carry handmaiden while his genius glows.

“But men are wise, not one in a thousand really wants to take over the job. They usually have a few specialties to produce on occasion, and leave the rest of the cooking to us.

“So, what do we do? It goes without saying that most women choose dishes men like. And men have quite definite likes and dislikes about food.”

Seriously…

Have to say, reading this helps me better understand my often inexplicable mother, who was a 22-year-old wife and mother when this recipe compilation was published.

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Humbled by Lesson from Homeless Couple

Posted on February 4, 2013 by Deborah White

She knitted while he leaned back, smiling, eyes closed, warmed by hazy afternoon February sun. Their sagging nylon folding-chairs sat behind the open door to their home… a dented, rusting, rundown RV crammed haphazardly with papers, clothes, ragged essentials. They chatted and chuckled quietly.

I’ve spied this middle-aged pair often at the local park, my private sojourn spot, since last summer. Maybe longer. Fascinated and repelled, I’ve watched but never spoken to them. No one speaks to them. Ever. Even when the park teems with people.

They don’t appear dangerous or unbalanced or even emotionally needy. Just luckless and homeless, living in a dumpy, aging car, passing time under blue skies and a dry wind. A poignant, painful reminder that we all live uncomfortably close to the edge.

I felt seized by a different Spirit yesterday. I pulled my car out to leave, but instead, pulled in by the dusty RV. They looked up…

Me, awkwardly: “Hi. Uhhh… I’ve seen you here before. Is there anything I can get for you? Do you need anything?”

Hesitation. Appraisal. He smiles again, slowly. She resumes knitting.

Him: “No. No thanks. We don’t need anything.”

Me: “Are you sure?”

Him: “We have food. We get food from two churches.”

Her: “A church gives us a bag of groceries each week.”

Me, absorbing. Curious: “Which churches?”

He names two churches in the nearby neighborhood.

Me: “What about the Lutheran Church in downtown Fullerton?”

Her, rawly, sadly. “I get confused by directions.”

Him: “On Wilshire? Yes, been there. They have food on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

It hit me they can’t afford gas to get to the Lutheran Church’s Caring Hands Ministry in Fullerton, six miles away. More hesitation…

Her: “We applied to HUD for an apartment. We should hear soon.”

Me: “Good! Is that what you want?”

Him and Her, nodding: “Yes. Oh, yes.”

Me, unsure: “OK. OK…”

Him, leaning forward in his chair, again smiling: “We’re happy. We really are happy. We”re OK.”

Me, reluctantly: “OK. Take care…”

I pulled out, then looked back.

She went back to knitting while he leaned back, smiling, eyes closed, warmed by hazy afternoon February sun.

To my amazement, they looked genuinely content. Happy.

Then it came to me, Philippians 4:10 – 13: “… I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”

I feel humbled by and grateful for their example. And terribly saddened that our great country, the wealthiest in world history, doesn’t have better solutions for folks down on their luck. (And I still wish they would allow me to help!)

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Rethinking Mayberry, California: Wasting My Taxes in 2013

Posted on January 17, 2013 by Deborah White

Nine years ago, I referred to my town as “Mayberry, California” because of the innocuous cuteness of its so-called crimes. I also wondered if “this low level need for law enforcement justifies the cost of an entire police force.”

The thought reoccurred to me as I scanned the “Crime in Your Neighborhood” newspaper column for January 1 to 6, 2013. I now also wonder why people pester the police for such common nuisances. Why are they overly fearful? Why are they overreacting? Do laws actually exist to criminalize behavior that could and should usually resolved with common sense? With humor? With love?

Listed among 32 “Crimes in Your Neighborhood” for the first six days of 2013 were:

January 1, 2013
12:21 am – “Suspicious person. A male in 20s, wearing bright red pajamas, was talking to himself.” (This is unusual on New Year’s Eve?)

12:32 am – “Loud music, 300 block of Crown Way.” (It’s New Year’s Eve, folks! Buy some ear plugs, and give your celebrating neighbors a break.)

January 2, 2013
5:33 am – “Municipal code. One male and one female were digging through dumpsters with a flashlight.” (This is illegal? My heart breaks for this likely desperate couple.)

12:24 pm – “Verbal family dispute. A 19-year-old son was refusing to leave.” (Seriously? Have you ever parented a teenage boy?)

12:49 pm – “Suspicious circumstance. A Ford Ranchero last seen in area occupied by male and female subject went directly to a dumpster.”

January 3, 2013
2:50 am – “Domestic dispute. A women reportedly put her hand through a window.”(This is a crime?)

11:04 pm – “Suspicious person. Unknown subjects set off fireworks in local park.” (It happens. Get over it.)

January 4, 2013
6: 26 pm – “Suspicious circumstance. A male in his 60s was reportedly naked inside a laundromat.” (Disturbing, yes. And perhaps he is disturbed and needs help. But public nudity is perfectly legal in parts of some U.S. cities. Did anyone first tell him to put his clothes back on?)

January 6, 2013
12:42 am – “Patrol check. Reporting person heard tires screeching and thought someone was drag racing.” (Drag racing is the only reason for screeching tires?)

12:44 am – “Possible drunk driver. A white SUV may have hit a bush.” (Obviously reported by an unfriendly neighbor, peeping out a window in hopes of spying a reportable infraction.)

3:53 pm – “Verbal family dispute. Dispute between mother and daughter.” (This is a crime? Or news? Mothers and daughters dispute. It’s a truism of motherhood, and a rite of passage for daughters. All daughters.)

10:44pm – “Narcotics violation. Two subjects smoking marijuana in the backyard. On-going issue, and reporting person can see and smell it.” (Reporting person sounds jealous…)

People, stop pestering police officers with petty, frivolous nuisances. Stop trying to control your neighbor’s private behavior. And stop thin-skinned, fearful overreacting to every stray sight, sound, or smell.

Stop wasting my taxes, and your taxes, too. These so-called “crimes” may seem innocuous and cute, but they waste valuable law enforcement time and resources. Such unnecessary personal use of public services is a prime example of why our taxes are too high.

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Our 2012 Holiday Season Letter: Lessons, Books, Baseball

Posted on December 31, 2012 by Deborah White

Dear Friends,

Ron and I last penned a Christmas letter five years ago. Maybe ten years ago. For many people, a newsy holiday letter once a decade is plenty… Since Christmas has already passed, please consider this our 2012 holiday season letter.

First, White family specifics.

Ron continues to enjoy working as senior quality engineer in manufacturing, and, in fact, has never enjoyed a position, company or boss more. Seriously. Or the distance from home: four miles! He’s been with this aerospace-related employer for nearly eight years, and our hope is for six more years before retirement. After two layoffs in the early 2000s, ending his career well has been a pleasant surprise.

Post-elections, I resigned after eight years as political writer/editor for About.com, part of the New York Times Company. I’ve also decided to not run in 2013 for a fourth consecutive two-year term as elected Delegate to the California Democratic Party. Eight frenzied years of constant, plugged-in politics is enough for any not-so-young journalist and activist. I’m profoundly grateful for invaluable experiences and resulting insights gained, though. Future endeavors include my three blogs, and two book-projects-in-process.

Our four adult children are thriving and surviving life’s joys and challenges. Trisha (soon moving to New York City), Ryan (here in Orange County), and Kevin (in the Bay Area) are all college-educated, and working in satisfying jobs. Or will be again quite soon. Andrea graduates from Yale University in May 2013 with a B.A. in Environmental Studies. She hopes to find employment in environmental consulting, and concedes that grad school is a probability within a few years.

Our two grandchildren, Ryan’s children, are ages five and seven and, quite fortunately, live close enough for us to be an important part of their lives. They’re bright, funny, adorable, inquisitive, active, curious… Can you tell we adore them? And adore grandparenting?

Three of our parents thankfully are still alive in their mid-80s, living independently, and fighting the good, feisty fight. My mother is fairly immobile now, but both of our fathers continue to drive and shop occasionally, cook, and more. My parents recently celebrated their 64th wedding anniversary.

Second, lessons we’ve learned over the past couple years.

Love your loved ones. Truly love them, and consciously treat them like you love and respect them. Because life is short. Too short. We lost five friends and acquaintances to cancer just in 2012. Two of them succumbed less than four months after diagnosis. Enjoy and cherish whom God has placed in your life. Do it today.

Partisan politics don’t have to divide people, but sadly, can and do. We have dear, dear friends who heartily disagree with both of us on most political stances and issues. So we ensure that the subject never comes up. Our friendship is too important. Is more important. We apparently became invisible several years ago to one couple we love when they discovered we don’t share their staunch views; a handful of others have avoided us since the 2012 elections. That’s our loss, and theirs too. It doesn’t have to be.

Kindles and Nooks cause people to read more than ever, for some oddly unknown reason. So do book clubs, for obvious reasons. Both Ron and I are reading more books than ever before, and loving it. Reading preserves the mind, opens new horizons, and creates understanding. It’s fun, too.

Fresh-picked fruits and vegetables are delicious. Since we started subscribing in 2011 to a weekly CSA carton of organic produce from Central Valley family farmers, we feel better, and our health issues… Ron’s diabetes, my blood pressure… have witnessed dramatic, doctor-pleasing improvements.

An unexpected side-benefit is that Ron and I now live with more imagination… in cooking, in eating, in experimenting, in creating. (To learn more, CLICK HERE for my blog post My Real Food Christmas Wish for Liberals, Conservatives Alike.)

Church matters. Church matters as a vital force for good in the community and the greater world. Church also matters as loving community and support in all phases of life, from young children to young families, empty nesters to the most senior of citizens.

On a personal level, church matters if your congregation choice is a fit for you. Ours is. Since joining the ranks of empty nesters, we’ve not been stellar attenders or givers. We plan to do better starting in 2013 because church injects substance into our suburban lives. Church is a relationship, not entertainment; giving back is part of the experience done right. While we both regularly pray, church attendance brings us closer to God.

Third, what truly matters? Four things, in our estimation:

  • Love, and the conscious choice to love and listen, rather than react in anger or fevered judgment.
  • Gratitude, rather than cynicism.
  • Health, and working toward health.
  • Voting.

Oh, and baseball! The Angels’ first spring-training game is February 22… only 53 days away. (We’ve already marked our calendar to watch the Angels WIN the 2013 World Series.)

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours!

Love always,

Ron and Debi White

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Book Review: Where’d You Go, Bernadette?

Posted on December 13, 2012 by Deborah White

Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple is one of my favorite books of 2012, despite its total lack of literary pedigree or intellectual pretensions. So I was pleased, and a bit surprised, that Time magazine and Christian Science Monitor both named “Bernadette” among Top Ten Fiction Books for 2012.

In her first novel, Maria Semple, screenwriter for cult TV show “Arrested Development”, gleefully skewers all manner of upper middle-class hipster-parent sacred cows in clever humor that rivals the best screwball comedy movies of the 1930s and 1940s. (Think “Bringing Up Baby” starring Katherine Hepburn and Cary Grant in 1938, or any number of Abbott and Costello comedies in the 1940s.)

Set in coffee-gourmand, eco-conscious Seattle, the story revolves around a dysfunctional family of three: Bernadette Fox, creatively blocked architect whose claim to social cache is winning a Genius Grant; husband Elgin Branch, distracted, driven “Level 80 Vice President” at Microsoft; and daughter Bee, an eighth-grader who secretly longs to not attend a snooty, top-notch college-prep boarding school.

Among modern-day lifestyle sacred cows slayed by author Semple in her warm, big-hearted novel are:

  • Private school parents, aka obsessive, doting helicopter parents
  • Politically correct school curriculums
  • Compulsive architectural competitiveness
  • Green-friendly and “natural” living foibles
  • Intellectual class self-absorption (TED Talks!)
  • Workplace pressures and objects of trendy prestige at Microsoft and the like
  • Movements and ironically whiny self-help groups

Like two books I raved about in June 2011… “A Visit from the Goon Squad” by Jennifer Egan and “Just Kids” by Patti Smith… this thoroughly contemporary caper is not for your mother’s genteel book club.

Nor is Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple for the humorless, the unimaginative, the prudish, or the over-the-hill in spirit.

This 336-page satire was one of my favorite books of 2012 simply because it sparkled with fun and witty plot surprises. More than once, I laughed out loud… sometimes in hilarious, humbled familiarity. Perhaps I should read it again. I recommend it for your 2013 reading list, too.

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