Friday Mornings

Almost every Friday I get a challah from our local bakery, Silver Moon and when I get one in the morning, when it's still warm, I have to walk in the door and put the challah down sloooooowly. The way it feels in my hands, the smell of it, there's nothing like. I literally want to bury my face in the thing. The whole Challah experience is really the thing that lets me know some sacred time is on the way, even if by "sacred" I mean I'm going to make a meal I know we're all going to eat.

The State of the Union?

The news in this post by Conor Friedersdorf (spell that ten times fast!) on Sullivan's blog isn't good, but it's worth reading.

The Bookstore

Early this morning I was working on, well, my novel. (I've never said that out loud on this blog but I've been writing a novel and I'm trying to finish a revision before I start school. I digress.) So I was working on the novel and I came to a scene where my heroine, Lauren, is imagining someone in a book store picking up a book with her name on it. And then I thought, "My god! What are we going to do when we don't have bookstores anymore!" I admit it, I panicked. What ARE we going to do?

The E-reader is really here and electronic books -- they're exciting, they're light, you can take them anywhere as long as you have a plug for recharging. But how will you find new books if you never wander along a bookshelf? Granted a bookstore or library shelf can be overwhelming, but they're also exciting. You can find books you might otherwise never have read, books that would never get moved through the algorithm of "What else you might like based on what you've already bought." Our incredibly siloed world will only get more so and new writers will have an even harder time breaking through.

Of course, ever since I had this thought I tried to come up with an example of a book I've read recently that wouldn't probably pop up through one or another of my algorithms, a book that hadn't been recommended to me or that wasn't in a genre I'm very familiar with, and I couldn't. But still, you see my point. I know I'm just sawing at my violin when Rome is burning, but the smoke is so thick! I just love a book.

Here's to You, Mrs. Robinson

Last night I dreamed about election night 2008. It was so nice, even if I couldn't figure out why Barack Obama was driving a car without any secret service guys around. When I woke up this morning I told David about the dream, he told me that today is Michelle Obama's birthday.

Then we got to talking about getting new jobs, because Obama, of course, got a big new job in 2008, and then we started talking about how things probably weren't easy for the Obamas when Barack was an Illinois state senator in Springfield most of the time and Michelle was in Chicago working full time. David commented on how big a role Michelle Obama's mother played in their family life. And then I said this: "Imagine. If it weren't for Michelle Obama's mother, Barack Obama might not be president."

I think this might be true.

A million stars have to align for anyone to become president, whether he has a funny name or a plain one, whether you're a WASP or African American or whatever. But on some level, for Barack Obama to pursue a political career, his home life had to be in order. For his home life to be in order, Michelle Obama needed help. And because they lived in her home town where her mom still lived, and because Mrs. Robinson was and is able to play a very active role in their family, Michelle Obama could turn to her mom and her mom could help their lives go. And look where they went.

Even before I had kids I thought of birthdays as celebration days for moms, too. So happy birthday, Mrs. Obama. And, Mrs. Robinson, we owe a great big thank you to you.

The Tiger Mother

Of course many friends emailed the Wall Street Journal excerpt from Amy Chua's book. I've said nothing about it, because, well, what could I say? That's nice for her, maybe too bad for her kids, who am I to say what's what and I'll remember not to think my kids are vulnerable ALL the time. It is our great good fortune that Marjorie Ingall has written something about the Tiger Mother situation. Something right on. Read it here.

This Morning

So, I admit it. Last night, in my zeal to knit, I completely forgot about the President's speech and caught up with the nice cooks on Top Chef. It happens. Once reminded about it in an email ("did you watch?") I read it and watched a little today. Here's a round-up of reactions from serious bloggers the Daily Dish. I'll just say what my husband did when he finished reading the speech (he forgot about it, too). "Speeches don't get much better."

Conspiracy Theories and Crosshairs

Robert Wright has something to say about violent rhetoric and, more importantly perhaps, conspiracy theories. It's right here.