Saturday, May 10, 2008 | by nathan

Unfried Green Tomatoes

Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to present my first tomatoes:

I’m not sure I can adequately express my excitement about having helped in the creation of these tomatoes, except to tell you that when I saw them, I squealed like a little girly piggy, fer sure.

Yesterday my coworker Gwyn brought me and my boss - who also is an avid gardener - some raspberry plants that her boyfriend had dug up from their garden. They needed to thin their bushes out, and she immediately thought of us. They sat in a pot with only a little dirt, no light and no water yesterday at work, but I put them down as soon as I got home yesterday. So far I’m not *too* hopeful about them, but there’s a whole lot of compost and manure under them and they’ve been watered no fewer than 4 times in 12 hours. Still, for the moment they look a little pathetic:

So pray for the newest addition to this garden. They’ve been watered and fed and watered and then fed some more, and it should be noted that they look a tiny bit better now than when I put them down, but only just. At any rate, if they work out I’ll have raspberries as well as blueberries and blackberries. The blackberry bush I put down last week, the one I got from Home Depot, is going nuts; it’s had about 6 inches’ new growth since I put it down:

This week I also took a chance and put down some of my cucumber seedlings. Here’s a lesson in gardening for you: always grow more seedlings than you’ll need. Best case scenario? You’ll have a whole bunch of extra plants you can give away to loved ones or other gardeners. What will probably happen, though, is that some of your seedlings will die after transplant and you’ll need the extras to fill in. Here’s hoping the latter is not the case with my cukes:

I also put down some carrots, though I don’t have a great deal of faith that they’ll do very well, or live at all, actually. But it’s always good to keep hope alive.

Friday, May 9, 2008 | by nathan

“…and all the reindeer too!”

My first real job - besides mowing yards and walking dogs for my neighbors or doing chores around the house - was in a small telemarketing operation in south Oklahoma City during my senior year of high school. It paid the most of any of the local phone sales outfits - eight dollars an hour - and I’d just bought the only car I’ve ever financed. Seventeen though I was, I suddenly found myself saddled with a monthly car payment of $217.53, which I was all too happy to pay, and so I went out and got myself an honest-to-God job.

Telemarketing is quitely likely the single most degrading kind of work on the planet. Quite likely even more so than prostitution. We were given a normal looking little beige phone and a stack of index cards with phone numbers on them, and a big, long, color-coded script with questions and answers.

Part of the script was that we were told to ask for the woman of the house; the rules were strict that we must never give the pitch to a man.

The boss explained it this way: "Men aren’t going to buy anything from you. They have good business sense. It’s much easier to talk women into things."

I cringed at him; he handed me a bottle of Lysol to spray down the receiver of my phone.

The men, when they did answer, were often threatening, as we weren’t allowed to even tell them why we were calling, only that we needed to speak to Mrs. So-And-So, or, barring that, the "Woman of the House." I got more than my share of guys who thought I was some no-good suitor coming along to steal their wives out from under them.

As if, I always thought.

Even worse than the men, though, were the children. Have you ever seen a two-year-old answer the phone? One day, this happened (and yes, my handbasket is all ready to go; I am going to Hell):

"Hu-low?"

"Hi! Is your mommy there?"

"Mommy?"

"Is your mommy there?"

"Hu-low? Mommy? Mommy?"

"No, I’m not your Mommy. Is your Mommy at home?"

"Yes."

"Can I speak to her?"

"Hu-low?"

"May I speak to your Mommy? Can you go get your Mommy?"

"Mommy? Hu-Low?"

[gritting my teeth together now] "CAN.I.PLEASE.SPEAK.TO.YOUR.MOMMY?"

"Can I speak a Mommy?"

"YES! The lady! Mommy! The big lady who lives with you!"

"The Big Mommy?"

"Yes! To! Your! Mommy!"

"Mommy?"

"No, I called to talk to you! What’s your name?"

"[something indecipherable]"

"Well, I just called to tell you that Santa is dead! DEAD!"

The child immediately starts crying on the phone, wailing, "SANTA!" After a few seconds I hear another line pick up.

"Who the hell is this?" asks an angry woman’s voice.

My heart leaps into my throat and I immediately hang up the phone.

Friday, May 9, 2008 | by nathan

Decorative Skewers

I stole borrowed these antique skewers from my mom for the first cookout we had after we moved into this house, and I’ve, um, never quite found my way to giving them back to her. We make shish-kebab almost every time we have people over, as they’re super easy and delicious, and with these skewers and a wide assortment of vegetable color they always look absolutely fantastic.

Friday, May 9, 2008 | by nathan

Sam Fridays: Moving On Up, To The East Side

Last weekend, in the midst of all our fabulous relaxifyin’ and general laziness, we also participated in our neighborhood garage sale. We’ve been trying to get rid of the last bits of detritus from when we redesigned the back porch, and our first garage sale didn’t quite go as well as we’d liked. The good thing about a neighborhood garage sale is that you have 50 other homeowners putting stuff out for sale the next day, and all your more experienced garage salers - the people who scour strangers’ front yards day and night in an attempt to find used items - will go from house to house. We sold almost everything.

Sam enjoys garage sales. He gets to hang out in the front yard with us and walk up to complete strangers, begging them to pet him. We were worried that some people might be afraid of or allergic to him, though, and so we tied him down with a stake I bought for when we take him camping. He did great; it gave him the freedom to move and walk around a bit without having to be completely immobile and without me worrying he’d get a bit too excited and dash out in front of a car.

I walked across the street to the neighbors’ sale about noon and found something that I knew Sam HAD TO HAVE. I got Sam a Dog-Loo.

MAN OH MAN did he love that thing; he took to it immediately. He went almost immediately inside and didn’t come out almost at all:

It’s basically a doghouse, right? Only MADE OF PLASTIC AND SHAPED LIKE AN IGLOO! It got pretty hot that afternoon, and Sam was able to keep cool. He even managed to catch a nap:

He definitely didn’t want to leave his dogloo when it was time. But he did come out a few times to get some lovins:

Now it sits in the backyard and Sam still seems to enjoy it, though he sorta forgot about it the other day when he got caught in the rain whilst doing his business. Oh well; he’ll get used to it.

Friday, May 9, 2008 | by nathan

Facade

Skirvin Hilton Hotel, downtown Oklahoma City.

Thursday, May 8, 2008 | by nathan

Damage

Last night as I was packing my stuff up to leave the office the tornado sirens went off. We all piled into a room downstairs and turned on the television there. Immediately I was struck with a bolt of fear - Brian had left work a few minutes earlier and there was a very actively tornadic thunderstorm headed directly across his route from work to home. The scariest part was that the meterologists were saying that any tornadoes that would come from the storm would most likely be wrapped in rain and fog, and therefore invisible. There was no cell phone signal in the room we were in, and so for several minutes I felt my heart stop in my chest, hoping to God Brian knew what was going on. There is nothing worse than not knowing if someone you love is okay. Nothing worse.

Finally I got him on the phone and he was fine. The storm was nowhere near me - or so I thought - and since I only live a half-mile from my office I declared I’d take my chances and try to get home, which I did with no problem. Later in the evening I went to the gym like I always do, and everything seemed fine.

Little did I know that, half a mile from my house, the straight-line winds had knocked the steeple off the chapel at Oklahoma City University and caused structural damage to the building. Check it out:

Thursday, May 8, 2008 | by nathan

Go Ahead. Mock.

Yes, I just scored 8th row seats to Tina Turner. And yes, I am unashamedly, unironically stoked.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008 | by nathan

Downtown

Tuesday, May 6, 2008 | by nathan

The Party Faithful by Amy Sullivan

In the fall of 2004, about a month before the presidential election, a dear friend from college told me he was voting for George W. Bush because, "I just think it’s wise to vote for someone who’s a believer."

Never in my life have I wanted so badly to kick another human being in the balls.

Amy Sullivan’s book The Party Faithful examines the origins of the idea that we have in America that the Republican party is the party that Jesus would join, that good Christian people should always cast their lot with the GOP. It examines how the Democratic party became - largely due to its own efforts or lack thereof - to be regarded as the party of out-of-touch elites and secularists.

This distinction, argues Sullivan, is inaccurate and harmful, not only to the Democratic party but to American politics in general. The truth is that a majority of Democratic voters - myself included - describe themselves as "religious" and attend church regularly. Our votes, in fact, reflect our religious background and beliefs, and to the extent that Republicans have been able to capture a majority of religious votes is just as much due to efforts to scare ordinary Americans over abortion and gay marriage as it is due to the refusal on the part of Democratic Party leaders to engage churchgoing voters.

All this is changing, Sullivan says, pointing to the disastrous showing of John Kerry among Catholics in the 2004 election and the failure on the part of his campaign to answer questions from voters on the subject of religion and public policy. Sullivan points out that the major Democratic contenders are all engaging these issues head-on and changing the dialogue in this country around issues of religion and politics.

For example, instead of constantly going on the defensive about abortion, Democratic candidates and consultants are actively engaging evangelical and Catholic constituents about "pro-life" issues, attempting to expand the definition of what "pro-life" means. It means not only making abortions rare - through safe-sex education and help for mothers who fear they will not be able to provide for a child - to eliminating life-destroying problems like poverty, global warming, pollution, the death penalty and war. They point out that Republicans who march blindly and ardently toward war, toward the death penalty, and away from providing assistance for people that will help prevent abortions, cannot be called truly pro-life. They’re changing the dialogue because the dialogue needs to be changed, and in the process they’re opening the eyes of the electorate to the fact that there are more pressing matters in America than abortion and gay marriage.

The book is a fascinating look at why religion does matter to all voters, and why it should. Sullivan herself is an evangelical Democrat whose work is inspired by a deep, personal faith both in Christ and in Democratic party principles. This sets it apart from other books on the subject, many of which are written from a detached religious perspective. For Sullivan (and for me) this stuff is personal and vital; it’s the question, largely, of what it means to be a Christian in America.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008 | by nathan

What It Looks Like When You Burn A Copy of The Prayer of Jabez In Your Backyard After Not Even Being Able To Give It Away At Your Second Garage Sale In A Month (PART 2 of 2)