The Tyranny of My Home Cooked Meals

 

"The women interviewed faced not just children but grown adults who are whiny, picky, and ungrateful for their efforts. “We rarely observed a meal in which at least one family member didn’t complain about the food they were served,” the researchers write. Mothers who could afford to do so often wanted to try new recipes and diverse ingredients, but they knew that it would cause their families to reject the meals. “Instead, they continued to make what was tried and true, even if they didn’t like the food themselves.” The saddest part is that picky husbands and boyfriends were just as much, if not more, of a problem than fussy children." from Slate by some whiny Skirt.

Pre-school Dinner Quid Nunc at Casa Hickey ( 1999-2010)

"Why can't we have fried chicken like Mom used to make?" asked my oldest.

"Mom's dead." was my cold hard fact of a rejoinder and I had taken the Hamilton Beach slow cooker out of the box in the basement to signal the start of a new school year.

"You're horrible! How . . .how could you say that?"

" I employed the stative subject complement."

" Well, what are you making for dinner?"

" Find out at meal time. Now, scat!"

The dinner table is not a Democracy.  This is gustatory Spain; not England. One cook, one meal is good enough for one dinner table with three children ( two girls and boy), while the chef and waiter stands, serves, clears and cleans the kitchen serving board.

In the summer months the grill does the trick, but fall, winter and early spring belong to the cast-iron skillet or the Slow Cooker.  I don't follow the rules.  I make them.  I am Pater Familas, The Widow Dad.

Voila~!

 


Sic Semper Tyrannis!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Boys to Men - Only If We Skip Gender Fluidity

BOYS. . . Leo's Lioness -Aurora Latifi -THE Woman who Loves Them!

I crashed English teacher Robert Sills' 9th Period class yesterday.  I grabbed one of the guys to discuss an 'incident' that took place the previous Friday.  As I had guessed it was much ado about nothing, to quote Mayor Emanuel when his staff was caught illegally taping a dialog between Rahm and a reporter.  Taping a conversation is so gender fluidly passive that no such thing would happen here in a Catholic all male high school - one deals with a problem head on.  That methodology has worked for centuries.

When I returned the likely lad to his class, I decided to catch up on the group work and discussion concerning the plot of the Hunger Games. The story is about a young woman trapped in a futuristic dystopia created by males that requires a lottery to determine combatants of both genders, and I imagine those questioning their sexual preferences and identities as well. In sum, America is composed of a Capital dedicated to the pleasure and luxury of the wealthy, attractive and athletic class and the twelve surrounding impoverished Districts populated by industrial slugs, breeders and close-knit ethnics, or hillybilly bible and gun hugging helots.Interestingly this post-apocalyptic USA is called Panem, which is Latin for Bread.

The protagonist is Katniss, a mythical Diana/Atemis forest dwelling huntress and her male counterpart is Peeta, a gender fluid baker's boy.  One on one the chick would take out the dude, because she got game. . . Hell,she stalked game.

I asked the lads, "How about it?"

" There's some tough girls"

You may say. However, would a Katniss start for Leo at defensive tackle, or power forward?

There was a roaring answer to the negative.

I went into a summary of the Illiad and focused on the convention ( there are five to epic poetry) of beginning in the middle of things ( In Media Res) and explained the starter for the Achaens -the Greeks - was sulking in his tent: Achilles.  Achilles is what being a boy is all about.  He is like every one of the twenty guys in Mr. Sills' freshman English Class -petulant, argumentative, egoistic, angry, violent, willful and easily distracted,
In short, Achilles is all boy.  Our culture has no time, patience, or sympathy for budding males.

Boys are ignored, bullied and persecuted in grammar schools, because the schools are not meant for boys. . . . Sloppy, smelly, scatter-brained, bored, loud, disgusting willful boys. One of our Canaryville boys, a skinny, athletic little smart-ass in very bad need of a hair cut named Sal, has grammar school 'rap sheet' that is as thick as an Oak Lawn phone book with with disciplinary reports form Miss J, Mrs, B, Ms.K and Mrs. Q indicating a completely unrecalitrant blaggard, sloven and scoundrel destined for the gallows.

In fact, this young bothersome scapegrace is scary smart - he picks up math at all levels like a Shop Vac.  Boys are not in the least like girls and must not be treated as such.

I have watched Illinois certified K-12 male teachers trained in gender neutral methodologies collapse into jello when confronted with a classroom packed with young males.  Boys get bored when teaching is boring, rote, unimaginative and unloved.  If a teacher does not love his subject, but demands a paycheck, boys will eat him for breakfast.

Our strongest teacher is a woman from Albania who loves boys and knows that boys learn differently from girls and knows her discipline inside and out.  Mrs. Aurora Latifi is better male role model than most of the boys have in their lives, despite her feminine grace and exotic beauty, because she loves men and demands their best - self-discipline, gallantry and masculine empathy.

I read a wonderful essay by a Canadian journalist Margaret Wente who summed up my experience in Robert Sills; 9th period English class, concerning the neglect and abuse of boys in our culture -

. . . in the modern world, boys are often treated as a problem. The dominant narrative around difficult boys – at least in the public school system – is that they’re unteachable, unreachable, disruptive and threatening. Many commentators – men as well as women – blame male culture itself for the problems with boys. In their view, what we need to do is destroy the death star of masculinity and all the evil that goes with it. What we need to do is put boys in touch with their emotions and teach them to behave more like girls.
This argument might make some sense – if you’re someone who believes that masculinity is nothing but a social construct. But people who care about real boys know that’s not true. They know you have to celebrate boys’ boyness – and work with it. Many boys’ schools are trying to do just that.(emphasis my own)

Leo High School most certainly does just that. Our boys range in age from 14- 94.  Merry-hearted boys make the best of Old Men. Real women, like Aurora Latifi recognize just that.  My guy Sal will either be a Nobel Prize laureate in math/science, or, if his public grammar school teachers are correct, some kind of James Bond villain.  I think the former.

Real Housewives, Moms, Lovers, Best Pals, Body Guards of the Faith of Morgan Park

I never saw one episode of Desperate Housewives, Sex in the City, or any . . .any Reality TV Show.

I was dragged to see first wave feminist movies back when I was a student at Loyola, right after Dewey took Manila from Spain. I went along to those strident 'woman must liberate herself!' soft core porn films - where some babe skanks around with pipe smoking professors from whom they learn secrets of sex and Blake's Poetry and then toss off the Jugs Harness and run through New York with other mini-skirted Feminists.

I dated a 'Dip-stick in Lip-stick' who thought Abortion was the signature of real Feminism . . .once.

Hell, I am a sucker for babies and detest the thought of murdering an innocent. I'm a Caveman.

The family is mocked in the film arts as well as plucked brow literature.

Women are never happy in these films unless they are slapping the mattress with a young Che Guevara wannabee and ditching their kids and their Old Man. Romantic Forbidden Love That ALWAYS ends tragically is the ideal.

I'm a hand-holder. I come from the very same place where I happen to live right now.

Last Night, my Daughter Nora and I ( Conor was frying fish at DiCola's) watched Clare receive the St. Cajetan's Computer Science Award at the 8th Grade Honors Ceremony. All the girls, text-message-ing little women who play basketball, volleyball, softball and work service hours at the two nursing homes in Morgan Park looked like run-way models and the fourteen something young men, looked like their Dads . . . sad to say.

I looked around at all the Moms, because Clare's Mom, my Bride, is an angel. Mary died when Clare was two and a half. However, Mary would have fit in nicely with Anne, Collette, Darleen, Sheila, Peggy, Kerry, Jennifer, Linda and all the rest.

Happy women. Not Cosmo guzzlers. Real women and not poor confused victims. Knockouts and most of them could care less. They are married to 'older versions' of the boys who struggled into an actual tie that you need to tie for the first time: Pete, Desmond, Declan, Jake, Jack ( about four by my count), Sean, Danny, Ray and Nick!

Their Moms are married to their Dads, their best pals. Their Moms don't need Botox. These are Real Women and they do not buy obscene numbers and qualities of shoes, read How to Be Happy Manuals by Skank Head-Cases, pop pills, 'take time for themselves,' wallow in self-pity. They are Happy Women. They have no tolerance, let alone capacity for Bitching. They are the Women that Feminists hate to the very marrow of their beings!

They are women of Faith, who do not seek some stupid alternative life-style, pierce their beautiful bodies, or Tattoo their limbs, or sculpt their personal destinies with Dr. Gaddam Gupta. They have it all. They have borne the pains of child birth and nurtured babies to a point where these babies too can become Real Men and Women.

They are the Breeders. They are the Real Family Core. The makers of tortilla roll-ups with lime and jalapenos! They know how to 'Work a Beer Glass' and a Mikita Power Drill. I love each and every one of these women.

The love of my life, lives in Chicago's Gold Coast and my Morgan Park neighborhood is familiar to this elegant and beautiful woman who sings at the Pump Room, because she grew up among Real Women in Chagrin Falls, Ohio as well.

I am a thrice blessed man. My love Mary went home to Christ. Not my call. I had a huge hole in my heart that Christ allowed me to patch up with my mistakes and stupidities, but allowed me to realize the majesty that is Woman. For better or worse I too am a Mom. A homely, lumpy, Mom, but a Mom nevertheless. I buy the Feminine Hygiene products in this house! Yet, I am blessed with the love and affection of another Real woman.

Whenever, I see the vapid, self-absorbed, shallow, and indulgent clothes horses portrayed in film and on TV, I click on Paula Deen on the food Channel. That is a Woman! Women make the home and in so doing create the world where kids do not need to take Zoloft, or fill their hours on the internet. The daughters of the Housewives of Morgan Park are women.

These Real Little Women play sports, play with make-up, but they also have learned to be friends and best pals with Ray, Pete, Jake, Jack (our by my count), Sean and Danny.

The Women of Morgan Park make a happy world. Thanks Be to God.

Today in Chicago Tribune, the sun dial for the changing times, there is another stupid couple of paragraphs about some stupid reality show that wants to further insult Women and the Family.

A show revealing the lives of upper-echelon housewives -- Botox parties, tennis matches and all the drama in between -- is coming to Chicago.

Towers Productions is casting for the Midwestern premiere of a housewives show similar to Bravo's "Real Housewives," which has focused on Orange County, New York, Atlanta and New Jersey.

The producers are searching for "a dynamic group of women" who have a unique connection to one another, whether through their lifestyles or social network, casting director Becky Cattie said.

Interested women can e-mail casting@towersproductions.com (a date for auditions has not been set yet). Include your name, age, the area where you live, contact information, a photo and some personal background information.

Reality my Broad Manly Ass!

Katha Pollitt - Palin Hater for America and One Ugly Broad! Chicago Tribune Thinks She's Swell!

Katha Pollitt is one ugly woman - this past Halloween the kids at the door gave her candy; in Katha's photo album there's only negatives;beauty is only skin deep but ugly is to the bone (Dangerfield. New York).

Click my post title for the article - it is pretty standard hate stuff but very badly written and certainly worthy of the Chicago Tribune editorial board.

I read Miss Pollitt's op-ed piece with great interest this morning. The Tribune did not provide a photo of Miss Pollitt but I managed to match the face with the message. Miss Pollitt is also not all that bright it seems to me thata demitasse would fit her head like a sombrero. Miss Pollitt is also rather . . .shall we say offensive? I've come across decomposed bodies of two fishermen tossed up on the beach at Holland Michigan that were less offensive than Miss Pollitt.

Miss Pollitt would scare a starving dog off a meat wagon, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. As Progressive are wont to say 'Who's to judge?' As I am wont to say, 'Me.' That is one ugly broad. Beauty works it's way up from the heart and Miss Pollitt's words of unnecessary invective match her tiny heart.

But shucks, don't take my word for it I am a dedicated and devout sexist.

My favorite Lesbian/literary critic Camille Paglia thinks not much of Miss Pollitt*. as well.

Feminist author Camille Paglia described Pollitt as a "whiny troll, an unscrupulous and unreliable critic and a cultural philistine...She's a good example of the phony prep-school/trust-fund leftism suffusing the incestuously interwined Ivy League cliques who run the corrupt East Coast literary and magazine establishment."[6]

Yet, the Chicago Tribune's editorial board sees fit to use a 'whiny troll' to smear Sarah Palin. Pollitt is a feminist. One of those feminists who can not seem to develop a happy life and Billy-bedamns any woman who is everything that they are not. Pollitt tosses hate on Sarah Palin like Englewood Napalm ( a horrific concoction of boiling water and bacon grease that is infamous for branding domestic disputes.

Sarah Palin will be fine. The Radical Feminists are scared witless - I believe that is the word I wish - of Sarah Palin.

The Chicago Tribune has become as sad a joke in journalism as the soon to closed Chicago Sun Times.

Katha Pollitt is married ( her second and his third) to Marxist critic Steve Lukes.

Sarah Palin is Governor of Alaska and happily married to the man she met in high school.

This is list from Mother Jones by Katha Pollitt Her Ten Must Reads - Yeah, I'll get around to those hits . . .when it snows in the Philippines.
Katha Pollitt is a columnist for The Nation magazine and author of Reasonable Creatures: Feminism & Society in American Culture at the End of the Twentieth Century (New York: Vintage, 1994). In the early 1980s, she reviewed books for Mother Jones. Her choices, listed chronologically:

1976 Keywords: A Vocabulary of Culture & Society, by Raymond Williams (London: Oxford University Press). The great Marxist scholar of English literature analyzes the history of 131 crucial words, from "aesthetic," which has always meant the opposite of "social" and "practical," to "work," which did not always mean paid employment.

1978 For Her Own Good: 150 Years of the Experts' Advice to Women, by Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English (New York: Doubleday). This feminist classic is still the most elegant and spirited dissection of received medical wisdom -- a.k.a. sexism.

1983 Imagined Communities, by Benedict Anderson (London: Verso). A brilliant and erudite investigation of the concept of national identity -- a modern invention whose psychological power lies in denying that it is one.

1984 Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste, by Pierre Bourdieu (Cambridge: Harvard University Press). With subtlety and sophistication, the great French sociologist analyzes the way social and economic classes are shaped and preserved by myriad tiny but amazingly precise differences -- from preferences in food and art to body language and hairstyles. The data are French, the implications universal.

1984 Not In Our Genes: Biology, Ideology, and Human Nature, by R.C. Lewontin, Steven Rose, and Leon J. Kamin (New York: Pantheon). Three prominent scientists debunk genetic determinism and sociobiology so thoroughly it's amazing The Bell Curve got published.

1988 A Small Place, by Jamaica Kincaid (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux). A beautiful, furious essay about the author's native Antigua, tourist mecca and postcolonial slum -- the modern world in a nutshell.

1990 City of Quartz: Excavating the Future in Los Angeles, by Mike Davis (London: Verso). I learned something from every page of this bold social history of Los Angeles as the prototype of a new kind of city, the world megalopolis.

1991 Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women, by Susan Faludi (New York: Crown). The book that woke American women from their Reagan-era "post-feminist" nap. Faludi shows how the media operates as a kind of Möbius strip, endlessly recycling half-truths and distortions to "prove" that feminism has made women miserable.

1991 Mao II, by Don DeLillo (New York: Penguin). A Pynchon-like writer leaves his study to explore a world of cults, terrorists, dilapidation, and drift. A tragic meditation on post-modernity as alternating currents of isolation and mass hysteria.

Adolph Reed Jr.'s essays are not collected in a book, but he is the smartest person of any race, class, or gender writing on race, class, and gender. (His writing appears in the Progressive and Village Voice.)


Rather have my gums scrapped, Katha!

Cammy, with words such as yours about Katha ('She's a good example of the phony prep-school/trust-fund leftism suffusing the incestuously interwined Ivy League cliques who run the corrupt East Coast literary and magazine establishment.') I am proud to call myself a Lesbian too!