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Summer 2014 Manifesto

The evenings are stretching out, long and lazy and golden. My balcony garden is putting out leaves. Another Commencement has come and gone, as has a delightful Memorial Day. And I’m craving ginger peach tea, blackberry cobbler and bright sandals (with a fresh pedicure, of course).

sunset cape cod

It’s officially summer, no matter if the weather in Boston occasionally veers back toward crisp or downright chilly. So here’s my list of what I plan to do, see, taste and savor this season:

tomatoes corn farmer's market

  • Visit the farmers’ market at Harvard – every week if possible. Buy loads of fresh produce, especially berries and tomatoes.
  • Go to Shakespeare on the Common – they’re doing Twelfth Night this year.
  • Visit Prince Edward Island and go see Green Gables, which I’ve wanted to do for years.
  • Host my parents for a visit, and take them up to Cape Ann, north of Boston. (My dad will love the fresh seafood.)
  • Dig into some summer reading. (Maybe I’ll make a syllabus like Anne.)
  • Drink fruity summer teas, eat Ben & Jerry’s, and balance it all with salads.
  • Go to an outdoor movie.
  • Tour the Longfellow House, which is right down the street from my office.
  • Spend lots of time outside – reading, lounging, walking, relaxing.

What’s on your list for this summer?

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Exceptions

Valencia 116

I love both tea and chocolate, but I don’t usually like tea with chocolate in it. But I am loving the Read My Lips tea I bought at David’s Tea last month. Rich, satisfying and slightly minty. (I bought it when I ran out of Santa’s Secret, their holiday black tea blend with peppermint.)

I don’t usually care for crude humor, but Tommy Boy makes me laugh so hard I weep. (Partly because I first watched it with my cousin Andy – and watching him crack up was even funnier than the movie itself.)

I’m not a coffee drinker, but on a trip to Spain a few years back, I tried cafe con leche and savored every sip. (See above for photographic evidence.)

I’m not a devotee of fantasy lit in general, but it is difficult to overstate my love for both the Harry Potter series and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Pure magic, these books, in all the best ways.

I didn’t think I liked hot pink (my sister is the pink-obsessed one), but a college roommate brought me a bright pink scarf from a trip to New York long ago and I still wear it all the time. (That one wasn’t so much an exception as a misperception.)

I grew up with spontaneous prayer, so a lot of memorized prayers feel forced in my mouth, but there are two that come easily: the Lord’s Prayer and the table prayer of my grandparents.

I’d almost always rather read a novel than short stories, but I’ve loved this collection of stories inspired by the Sherlock Holmes canon. Really fun and clever.

What are the exceptions in your life?

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Election season is upon us with a vengeance – a vengeance more bitter than most elections I can remember. I am planning to vote, because I believe in exercising my right to have a voice in my government, however small. (I am also mindful of the decades when women could not vote in this country, and of the millions of women around the world who still have no say in either their governments or their lives.)

But I spent a recent evening enjoying a different angle on politics. J and I watched The American President, the witty and romantic 1995 film in which Annette Bening plays a sharp-tongued, sparkling-eyed lobbyist who falls in love with Michael Douglas as he plays the sober, thoughtful and warmhearted President of the United States.

american president poster movie

(Image from imdb.com)

I watched this movie as a teenager, when some of the political commentary went over my head, but I loved the clever interplay between the President and his staff members, and the tender (if complicated) love story. Watching it as an adult, I’m struck by how not dated it is. The banter is still brilliant and utterly quotable; the power suits are still (mostly) the style in the halls of power; and the overarching concept that “politics is perception” has never been more relevant.

The movie is set in an election year, with the President trying to keep his job while sending two important bills to Congress (the issues at hand are gun control and the environment). A likable, urbane widower (with a teenage daughter whom he adores), he has been consistently popular, until he starts dating Sydney Ellen Wade, a lobbyist hired to help the environmental folks push their agenda on the Hill.

Despite his attempts to keep his personal life private, the President finds his ratings sliding, and as congressional votes on his bills also start slipping away, he must decide which issues to support. Sydney isn’t sleeping with him to get votes, but the pundits – and his opponent – pounce on the potential for scandal.

This President is an intelligent, well-informed man who carefully considers his decisions (the scene involving an attack on Libya under the guise of “proportional response” is one of the film’s best). He struggles, privately and deeply, with the power and influence accorded him as the leader of the free world. He listens to his staff’s advice (the supporting cast, including Martin Sheen and Michael J. Fox, is outstanding), but in the end he makes his decisions alone. And crucially, he has the courage to admit his mistakes.

The movie’s climax comes when the President finally steps up to address the White House press corps, refuting multiple accusations brought by his opponent, Senator Bob Rumson (Richard Dreyfuss). Whether or not you agree with the political statements herein, it is an incisive, rhetorically dazzling speech, and it begins with this statement:

For the last couple of months, Senator Rumson has suggested that being president of this country was, to a certain extent, about character. And although I have not been willing to engage in his attacks on me, I’ve been here three years and three days, and I can tell you without hesitation: Being president of this country is entirely about character.

 

I am more weary than I can say of the mudslinging, name-calling, pandering, dodging and mean-spirited comments that pervade the political ads, debates and social media sites in this country. I am not suggesting that a romantic comedy holds the solution to these problems, nor am I suggesting that it is quite that simple.

But I do believe we would all benefit by remembering that this country can be best led by people of character, whatever their political affiliation or stance on certain issues. And I also believe we ought to act as people of character toward our friends, coworkers and fellow Americans, even (or especially) when their political views don’t agree with ours.

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kramerbooks interior washington dc

Kramerbooks in D.C., which I recently visited

Paris in Love, Eloisa James
This memoir of a year in Paris sparkles with delightful anecdotes and wry commentary. It’s no easy feat to move your family across the Atlantic, and James and her Italian husband managed it rather well. (Their 11-year-old daughter, Anna, is particularly hilarious.) James admits that living in Paris has its challenges, but she loves this city and it’s such fun to walk with her through it. Utterly charming, and the bite-size bon mot format is addictive.

Gods Like Us: On Movie Stardom and Modern Fame, Ty Burr
Burr, the film critic for the Boston Globe, examines our culture of stardom in the U.S., from early silent actors to the talkies, all the way up to the Internet and our current obsessive celebrity culture. His anecdotes about stars past and present (Chaplin, Wayne, Stanwyck and many more) are fascinating, and his questions about why we have stars – why we need stars – are insightful, timely and rather unsettling. To review for Shelf Awareness (out Sept. 18).

A Pocket Full of Rye, Agatha Christie
When a wealthy financier is poisoned, police inspectors are surprised to find cereal in his pockets. Then his wife and the maid are also killed, with each death containing a link to the “Sing a song of sixpence” rhyme. Enter Miss Marple, who (of course) befriends nearly everyone in the household, picks up bits of useful information, and helps Inspector Neele connect the dots. This is classic Christie, clever and fun, with a fair dose of coincidence and a tidy wrap-up at the end.

The Secret Adversary, Agatha Christie
I loved this first novel in Christie’s Tommy and Tuppence series, featuring two young adventurers in post-World War I London. They set up a detective agency and quickly find themselves drawn into a web of political intrigue. This era fascinates me, and the easy banter between Tommy and Tuppence reminds me of Castle. Lots of red herrings, as usual, with a chilling twist near the end. (Bought during my D.C. indie bookstore crawl.)

Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy, Gary D. Schmidt
Turner Buckminster, minister’s son and new transplant to Maine, has a tough time fitting in – but then he meets Lizzie Bright Griffin, who lives on a nearby island. Lizzie teaches Turner to dig clams and hit a Maine baseball, but their friendship is threatened by the town’s elders, who are trying to evict Lizzie and her fellow African-Americans from their island. Based on a true story and told in Schmidt’s skilled prose, this was a moving story and a gorgeous evocation of the New England landscape.

So Far Away, Meg Mitchell Moore
I enjoyed Meg’s debut, The Arrivals, but I loved So Far Away. (I couldn’t put it down even when watching Olympics diving – I had to know what happened.) Thirteen-year-old Natalie Gallagher, who is dealing with her parents’ divorce and cyberbullying at school, is a proud, strong, confused, completely authentic teenager. And archivist Kathleen Lynch, who helps Natalie decipher an old diary she unearthed in her basement, is also a great character. So much heartbreak – Kathleen’s runaway daughter, Natalie’s mom’s depression, and the struggles mentioned above – but also hope. (And it’s set in and near Boston, which I enjoyed.)

Whew. So many books in July. I’m slowing the pace a bit in August, but still digging into the to-read stacks with enthusiasm. What are you reading these days?

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Dear Friend,

I like to start my notes to you as if we’re already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend we’re the oldest and dearest friends, instead of what we actually are: an essayist-novelist-screenwriter-director who became a cultural icon, and one of her many adoring fans.

I remember the day we met: I was 15, and I went to see You’ve Got Mail with my sister, her boyfriend, and my (male) best friend. My sister’s boyfriend, predictably, rolled his eyes, but the rest of us were instantly smitten – with Kathleen Kelly, the Shop Around the Corner, and New York in the fall (and the spring). When I finally visited New York as a twentysomething, I made a pilgrimage to Cafe Lalo, and pictured you and Kathleen walking beside me as I wandered streets overhung with blossoming trees.

cafe lalo new york city

My family has watched You’ve Got Mail so many times that its phrases – and its wisdom – are part of our vernacular. We all know that eucalyptus candles make an apartment smell mossy, that newly sharpened pencils are the perfect bouquet to celebrate fall, and that when you read a book as a child, it becomes part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does. (Actually, we already knew that, but you gave us the words to express it.) And you pointed out what should have been perfectly obvious all along: daisies are the friendliest flower.

Thank you for making movies that made us believe in the sparkling potential of ordinary days. Thank you for giving us characters who have become friends, lines we can repeat back to ourselves and to our loved ones, stories we can crawl into when life gets a little drab or ho-hum or cruel. Thank you for your wit, your class, your charm, your refusal to take yourself – or anyone – too seriously. But most of all, thank you for the stories you gave us, which affirm the worth of our small but valuable lives, and help make them bigger and richer and more lovely.

With much love, and lots of daisies,
Katie

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I’ve gushed before about my love for the Muppets – I grew up watching Sesame Street, became a fan of the movies in college (thanks to Jeremiah), and watched three seasons of the show last fall. I can’t get enough of these musical, goofy, completely adorable characters and their antics. (We watch our favorite Muppet videos on YouTube regularly.) I especially adore Kermit the Frog.

So – in case you hadn’t heard – they’re making a new Muppet movie. And yesterday I saw this:

Doesn’t it look fantastic?

I cannot WAIT.

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My husband and I aren’t big TV- or movie-watchers. We do love our Friends DVDs – they’re a great antidote to a bad day – and we enjoyed watching The Muppet Show last fall and a little Friday Night Lights this winter. And I love me a good chick flick when I’m feeling low. But since we activated the Netflix gift subscription my sister sent for Christmas, we have watched a total of one streamed movie and a few episodes of FNL. So I canceled it last week.

The thing is, when I get home (usually before J does) after a day of screen time, I tend to putter around, cleaning and tidying, or I curl up on the couch with a book. Then, we love to eat dinner at the table together, instead of spaced out in front of a movie (though we’ll do that once in a while). And after dinner, J often gets out his guitar (or the brand-spanking-new djembe he got for his birthday), and spends a while making music, while I read, write, bake or sing along with him.

Of course, some nights we zone out in front of our computers, or we both get home late and we’re just frazzled. But by and large, I like our quiet evenings. And I’m trying to spend part of my evenings doing what Felicity mentioned in her post about small changes a while back: producing instead of consuming. Even if it’s just knitting a few rows, or scribbling some notes in a journal, or drafting a blog post or two, it feels good to make something. And, well, not much gets made if I’m watching TV (or surfing the Internet).

So, for now, at least, we are a Netflix-free family. And it feels good.

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