a little red hen

New Fridge and Immigration Madness

 Oh, there she goes again.  I hear you but can you blame me for trying a new way to get your attention?  Done it before and will do it again because older people, Elderbloggers, seniors, geezers--whatever you want to call us-- need to add immigration reform to the list of issues that need our attention as much as healthcare. 

And the fridge news?  A recent post at Time Goes By (moving to Portland, Oregon, next month) brought a comment from My Mom's Blog that she definitely should get a refrigerator with a bottom freezer.   Millie is so correct.  We've been bumping our heads on the 1980s model that came with our new apartment.  We like the way the door is a slide-out drawer.  We'd had a side-by-side in New York but no room for that here.

Much looking around and voila!  Sears has a perfect Kenmore to fit our 30-inch space; love the cheese drawer, easy temp controls.  Had to take out a cabinet to get the height but no loss since it's just about unreachable.  And what was it that we had up there anyway?  I do miss my former glass-front Ikea cabinets.  But that's the past and in this present the important issues are treating one another like human beings.

Which brings me back to immigration madness.  How sorry I feel for Darlene, Elderblogger with progressive leanings who lives in Arizona, home of the Hispanic haters, and God knows what else that does not belong in a democracy.  She posts in more detail under the title,  Arizona's Shame.  The majority of people there appear lacking in morality with their latest move to make it a state crime--in less than three months from now-- to be an undocumented immigrant  in Arizona.

Morality aside, for those that can go there, how do they imagine their infrastructure will work without all the workers from across the borders.  Like the two excellent movers who seamlessly delivered our new fridge and took the old one away.  Spoke very good English too.

Boycott Arizona (link is to the number one Hispanic website, Hispanic News)  is the only thing that may stop clueless, vicious Arizonans.  Today I had lunch with my new friend, Elizabeth, who lives in the apartment right under mine.  With her family she had to leave Austria in the late 1930s.  They went to Mexico, were not able to come here till 1950.  Perhaps many readers here have forgotten that the U.S. would not open its doors to Jews trying to leave Europe: 190,00 000 - 200 000 Jews could have been saved.

There are stories in all American families about what it was like to be the first immigrant Irish, Italians, Japapanese, Roumanians....where does it end?  We are all immigrants, many of our forebears came here legally.  But it did not matter to many who'd had some years to Americanize. We need to get it together around just what it means to be American whether you speak "perfect" English or still have a Latino accent.

***UPDATE:  Saturday, May One, there will be a May Day Rally in downtown Portland, Oregon. 

Oregon voters, once again, 2 important measures coming up in May election...

If you live in Oregon, here are important measures to say "YES" about on May 18--for Safe and Healthy Schools...go to this important link yes on 68 and 69 for the entire scoop. 

About

On the May 18 Primary Election Ballot, Oregonians will see two ballot measures that correct longstanding obstacles to providing safe, healthy, and cost efficient schools for Oregon’s students, from K12 through community colleges and universities.

Vote YES on Measures 68 and 69.

Protect K12 students by allowing local communities to make decisions about funding repairs and maintenance in their school facilities. It will also help keep costs to local communities low by allowing the state to issue matching funds for voter-approved bonds.

Make sure Oregon’s colleges and universities can expand for more space by using low-cost bonds to reuse existing buildings, not just for new buildings. Measure 69 will conserve our state resources and environment while still making sure that our colleges and universities are prepared to train students for the jobs of tomorrow.

Broad coalitions of education advocates and business communities are supporting YES votes on these measures because they protect local control of our classrooms, save precious state funds, and provide Oregon’s students with the education they need.

Copyright 2010 Yes for Safe and Healthy Schools (above copied from website)

Vigilance Theme by Jestro

He Outs Me at Portland Farmers Market

  Today was another of our ongoing swell times in Rose City.  Walked to market with our old red Zabar cart. Made lunch from a Fresenden roll, Farmhouse Country Style Pate from CHOP, and just-bought green.  Shortbread cookies from Two Tarts.  Have to bring containers next week for free water; lines too long for tea and coffee.  Everyone, like me, buying rhubarb.  Found recipe the other day that uses it with chicken!

Toward the end, Ron and I became transfixed by Chef Kathryn Yeomans with biz card: Sage Culinary Advice.  The most diverse cross-section of Portlanders I've seen yet crowded around to watch/ listen/inhale.  She was the Market's Chef-du-jour aligned with the mushroom people next door.

In these photos she  poaches salmon--with ingredients from vendors in the Market.   "Nobody poaches anymore,"  Kathryn noted. I have to agree.  Seeing/tasting her results though makes it more of a possibility in our own kitchen.

She began with broth from a bit of  salmon ( vendor who is actually a fisherman), carrots, celery, other stuff.  Then the broth was used to slowly poach the rest of the salmon, so,  as she explained, the result is tender fish.  At the end there's bok choy, mitake mushrooms...the bone lifts easily from the fish.  For the finish--a chance to taste--a splash of olive oil, a bit of spicy chevre.    Great performance with delicious outcome.

This post is a  stretch; LRH here is not a cooking blog.  All because Ron announced to the crowd that pictures would be on my blog--and named the blog! Right there in Portland, home of so many smarty-pants bloggers.  Mortified.

"Radio Golf," August Wilson's Final Play

Complaining weekly about the whiteness of Portland (and Oregon), I have nowhere to go with this thorn in my perfect little life here.  All week I've been handing out postcards about  a local theatre production of  "Radio Golf," the last of August Wilson's ten-play chronicle of black life in mid 20th century Pittsbugh. 

Every man, woman, and child over 15 ought to  be required to troop on over to the Portland Playhouse (small church converted to a performance space).  Sit down on a couch or chair,  open up to Wilson's picture of the pain and pleasure African Americans have always known in their own settings.  People keep asking if we miss New York.  No, we mostly miss living in a colored world.  Asians running ethnic restaurants, Hispanics cooking in most eating places--but not living in my West Hills neighborhood.  What's with all these white people?  How did they conspire to be so cut apart from the America I've known--Baltimore, St. Louis, Oberlin, New Orleans, Louisville, New York of course.

But I get in the way of celebrating last Sunday in Albina, an historically black residential neighborhood.** Decided to wear this pretty little hat bought from its maker at a local Saturday market many years ago.  "Oh, it's Easter," did not occur to me until we were halfway there.   Influenced by the dominant culture here or feeling my hair continues to whiten so consider again little caps to hold back my fading from view?

We arrived early for the play and sat in the car in front of a house with a wreath,  "Happy Every Day."  As I  knit, a woman drove into the driveway, got out of her car.  Her shoes were bright pink.  We exchanged hellos  and I held up my mauve gloves, "These match your shoes!"  She nodded and chuckled on her way inside.

Five minutes later a man came out of the house, got into a car parked in front of us.  Soon the woman reappeared, wearing black shoes now, opened the passenger door and asked, "You hear from Johnny?"  Her voice had a cadence Ron and I know so well.  We never hear it in Portland--the way a voice sounds in a question from one black person to another.   You had to be there--and be us to--understand our  pleasure and sadness.

The Oregonian went all out to promote "Radio Golf" on the cover of its entertainment section.   There is  an excellent slide show of the set and scenes from the play.  Also, the story of the two young white Weaver brothers (Michael at right in photo) started Portland Playhouse only last year.  The "campaign poster" in the photo is of Harmond  Wilks, played by Lawrence Street, a real estate developer planning to run for Mayor of Pittsburgh.Notable too was that this is a co-production with BaseRoots Theatre company, also a recent addition to Portland's performance scene  with a mission is to "showcase the unique African-American experience."

We enjoyed the play--especially the outstanding acting.  Two of the five actors are members of BaseRoots.  Kevin E. Jones who plays the oldest character, Elder Joseph Barlow, and Victor Mack as the fast-talking neighborhood deal-maker, Sterling Johnson, struck us as the men August Wilson felt closest to in this play.     As a black man on his way up and ready to change the old rundown Hill District neighborhood, Bobby Bermas is Roosevelt Hicks.  He swings his golf clubs with bravado and determination that had us believing that playing the white man's game would bring him success.  The Willamette Week review reflects my own reservations about the play while also calling it "...the best show in town." 

At the last minute I'd changed our tickets when I  learned  there'd be talk-backs at Sunday performances.  Most of the audience stayed, asked questions, and listened to the actors' describe differences they'd experienced as black performers in Portland compared with other places. We missed more of an African American presence among us and I think they did too.    Kimberly Howard (far right) from the Oregon Cultural Trust, one of the sponsors, moderated and told of Portland  Playhouse efforts to bring in more black audiences, particularly from  public schools.  

Other Wilson plays have been have been more powerful for me ("Joe Turner's Come and Gone" for one) but none of them--in Baltimore or New York--have gifted me with as pleasurable a total experience as this one... at the right place and in the right time. 

UPDATE:  "Radio Golf" run extended to May 16

**Nothing useful in Wikipedia, but so much in this research paper pdf from the University of  Oregon.

Hattie's Web arrives in real time...

Last night Marianna, of Hattie's Web, and I had our third Portland encounter.  This time, however, she and spouse Terry could visit us as voting Rose City residents.  No more Powell's or Pearl Bakery--lovely as those sites are.  Ron and I revealed life in a retirement community, Dagen/Bloom style.

It has been a very, very hectic week.  After dropping out for a bit for low level illness, I'm back to Water Aerobics twice a week, with the glamour of my new bathing suit (partial view)--a tankini as Marianna once suggested from her superior experience as a water baby in Hawaii.

Tuesday school started again at Portland State--two classes back to back.  The quarter system is more intense than the semester one of my past; two hour sessions with no break.  And there's Blackboard to learn--more life in the electronics lane.  When the men separated from the women last night, Ron tells me that Terry was intrigued by this online approach to class readings and assignments. Thursday much cooking for a delayed Seder, first time for us, at our daughter's.

Marianna showed me her much-loved Kindle and I countered with a favorite old book, the beautifully illustrated temperance autobiography, Frances E. Willard's Glimpses of Fifty Years, published in 1889.  This is a good a time to begin my long-planned project of writing about the temperance movement and its contemporary relevance.  [We enjoyed a bottle of Beaujolais-Villages brought by our guests.]  As I pointed out, Willard was known to drink a little wine. That's the true meaning of temperance,  a concept with little currency in the U.S.

We talked about making changes to blogs over time--whether they are a very new concept that will continue to evolve stylistically or on their way out as some recent reports claim.  Marianna has recently changed her blog's look--impressive effort.  When I said my instinct is to write more about food, her right eyebrow raised.  I sensedalarm in her plea, "Please don't become a foodie blog!"  Ah, I answered, you must read The Blog that Ate Manhattan (doctor who cooks and talks about women's health) and another with much more than recipes,  A Chicken in Every Granny Cart.

Using her Kindle, Marianna attempted to alter my recent dismissive attitude toward Michael Berube's writing, expressed in a comment at Hattie's Web.  I warmed to his idea that the CIA influenced European attitudes about American art produced during the years of the cold war.  But he goes on too much in a certain academic style that is very familiar to me.  

   Attempting to memorialize our evening, we passed around cameras.   Marianna models one of Ron's growing collection of knit hats and inspects my latest knitting pattern for an elephant toy...the two Elderbloggers examine my lost art of neckpiece-making and demonstrate the lost art of  talking with hands sans electronic objects...the men explore nuances of Yiddish vis a vis German.  It's unlikely we will get to Hawaii but  I forgot to mention this idea--that we meet up on Marianna's  next Seattle trip with that other blogger/thinker/grandma, 20th Century Woman, who like me admires chickens (scroll down).