Locker room talk. Harmless braggadocio. Boys will be boys.
If you’re a hetero male like me, you might feel that we’re getting a bad rap, that we’re being slandered and libeled, being painted with a big stinking brush. We don’t talk that way. We don’t even think that way. OK, sure, we like looking at women and yes, we are guilty of crudely expressing our opinions about female anatomy, but that’s different. Isn’t it?
Is it? Continue Reading »
Posted in Culture, Politics | Tagged boys will be boys, locker room talk, sexual assault | 5 Comments »
The Pacific Northwest is in a tizzy today. Why? It’s gonna rain.
[I’ll just wait here until the laughter dies down… Okay… Finished? Good. Onward.]
Yes, it’s gonna rain, and it’s gonna rain good. We have a series of deep low-pressure cyclones heading our way, one of which is the remnants of Typhoon Songda, and the gradients are setting up to rival the historically massive Columbus Day storm of 1962: sustained winds (not gusts) of 50+ knots, 5–10 inches of rain in the mountains, flooding, power outages, The Works.
These storms are going to wallop us from today to Sunday; already the heavy rains have begun.
To prepare, yesterday we went out to get a few punkles of firewood. Our neighborhood is not prone to power outages, but this weekend may be the exception, so I thought it best to lay in a small amount of supplementary fuel. We drove up to WinCo, where they usually have a couple pallets of firewood out front.
Nothing but pumpkins. Ruh roh.
We went to Fred Meyer. Pumpkins. Central Market? Pumpkins. Safeway (yeah…right)…pumpkins.
The world has gone pumpkin crazy.
Hopefully the power won’t go out here or, if it does, not for long. We have a couple of punkles left over from vacation, plus a bin of scrap wood from old projects down in the garage. And there are some large branches in the back garden, trimmed and laid out as nurse logs, that I could chop up. We’ll be fine. Besides, these systems aren’t particularly cold, just wet and wild.
I hope to take a walk in the teeth of it, to enjoy the fury and strength first-hand.
See you on the far side.
k
Posted in Seattle | Tagged flooding, Seattle, storm, weather | 8 Comments »
I walk the wavering limit of sand and sea, the Pacific’s grey serrated edge. The wind, flavored with salt and sun-dried kelp, pushes me, smudging my glasses with briny thumbs. A foam-white gull hunkers down against the wind. It glares at me with a yellow eye, wary but unwilling to move as long as I keep my distance. Plovers weave up and down the sand, dancing with their watery partner, piping and whistling. At my approach, they burst upward in a seething cloud of wings that veers drunkenly along the shore before settling down at a safer distance.
The waves hesitate, gathering their courage, then rush up the sloping shore. The first one covers my feet, the second my ankles, the third, calves. The water shocks with skin-tightening cold, but once the waves caress the sun-kissed sand, they recede with warmth and slip gently out to sea.
It is low tide, the time when the ocean rummages through dark cupboards, searching for trinkets and loose change to toss up on land when the next advance begins. Past offerings make ripples beneath the retreating waves or lie bright in the water-dark sand. Razor clams, splayed wide like nacre butterflies, are brittle and sharp splashes of dark purple or brilliant white. The pale skeletons of sand dollars lie strewn about, all broken, metaphors waiting to be used.
I walk through the dirty, heavy-handed rip current and the calmer, cleaner slack. I feel the tug of the water, sense the shifting sand beneath my feet. I taste both sea and earth on the ceaseless wind.
This is the edge, the limit of the world, the place where both land and ocean end.
Or begin.
k
Posted in Writing | Tagged creative writing, ocean, Poetry, seashore, simple living, vignettes | 2 Comments »
My world has become meaner, of late, and I’m guessing yours has, too.
Mean, in the sense of “harsh, spiteful, and cruel,” but also in the sense of “crude, lowly, or ignoble.”
Work, politics, society, and even some relationships have taken on a more callous, retributive aspect. People don’t want to listen — They don’t even want to care. — and it feels like the whole social contract has begun to unravel.
My world has indeed become more mean.
In response, I find that I have becoming meaner, as well. Patience has vanished. Reactions have intensified. Empathy has hit rock bottom.
And I hate it.
So I’m doing something about it.
I’m changing the only thing I can.
Posted in Culture | Tagged daily stress, empathy, handling stress, inner peace, modern life, quiet living, simple living | 1 Comment »
Cats have their signs.
The twitching tail.
The flattened ears.
So do I.
Know me?
You’ll see them.
Esteem me?
You’ll heed them.
Else
No fireworks.
No tirades.
No hiss and lashing claws.
Just silence
And the snick of the closing door.
Too late.
Too late.
Call it what you want.
I no longer care.
Cats have their signs.
k
Posted in Writing | Tagged friendship, personal value, Poetry, Relationships | Leave a Comment »
Want to bring a little pizzazz to that sandwich? Want to add some zip to that cold-cut platter? Here’s a suggestion. A complex mix of flavors — earthy, sweet, tangy, spicy — designed to enhance rather than smother.
Cook up a batch of this, set it in the fridge for a couple of weeks to mellow, and enjoy.
Makes about 4 pounds
k
Posted in Food, Recipes | Tagged chipotle chutney, cooking, plum chutney, Recipe | Leave a Comment »
On September 1, Seattle breathed a collective sigh of relief.
After weeks of dry, sun-sopped, over-warm weather, we awoke to grey skies, moist air, cool winds, and the hiss of rain.
It’s back! The rain is back!
Visitors and recent transplants grumble and curse, but for most natives and for almost all who, like me, came here a long time ago and chose to stay, it is a needed balm for our sunburnt souls.
Seattle’s rep as Rain City is well-known. In inches, we don’t get the most — not by a long shot — but we get a little bit quite often. Showers. Drizzle. Fog. Mist. We’ll have them for days at a time, days where the sun’s strength is shrouded by an armada of battleship grey clouds, days when the puddles never fully dry up.
And we don’t mind a bit.
Do not hide from rain.
Stand tall. Receive weather’s kiss.
Drink it in. Enjoy.
k
Posted in Seattle | Leave a Comment »
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani 