hunger

Not that I am truly hungry, of course. Thank God, I have never experienced real hunger (at least not for food). But I am ready to eat. But what? Food and I have a long-standing relationship. A deep relationship. An on-going relationship. I really like food, and it must like me--why else would it stick around so long?
I am no gourmet. Truffles and foie gras and wine hold no real appeal to me. I am a gourmand. I love food. And it shows. I love the food I grew up with: country ham, biscuits, gravy, chicken and dumplings, fried chicken, soup beans and corn bread, macaroni and cheese, cole slaw, fried green tomatoes, corn on the cob, green beans (white half-runners) cooked with fatback, fried cabbage, apple dumplings, turtle cake. I love breakfast: eggs scrambled with ham, fried bologna, grits (with or without cheese), fried apples, oatmeal, French toast, pancakes, waffles, bagels with cream cheese. I love ethnic food: Chinese and Thai and Mexican and Italian and Greek and Middle Eastern and African and Cajun and Japanese. I love the recipes that my wife experiments with: Tuscan pork chops and pizza rustica. I love fruit: apples (red delicious, yellow delicious, Granny Smith, Macintosh, Rome), pears, grapes, cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon, oranges, pineapple, kiwi, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, lemons, plums. I love fair food: sausages with onions and peppers, fried dough, fresh-cut french fries. I love seafood: shrimp and clams and crab and lobster and tuna and cod and halibut and salmon and catfish and grouper and mackerel and bass. I love ice cream and pies and cake and cookies and fudge and no-bake cookies and cobblers and pudding. I love hamburgers from the grill and kabobs and pasta salads and baked beans and salads. I love bread: crusty, warm bread with body and substance; hot corn bread with butter or milk; hot yeast rolls, soft and sweet and smelling of memories. I love food. Food is good.

Wallace and Gromit

Just so you know, Nick Park is a genius. Wallace and Gromit have been favorites of mine since my friend Duane foisted a tape on me several years ago. It is all so simple and all so lovely. The world is in balance so long as there be cheese in the cupboard and nothing short circuits.
Park's claymation is fluid and vibrant. CGI and traditional animation are both wonderful media, but there is a special beauty to the molded forms which inhabit Park's world. Perhaps it is that Wallace and Gromit themselves are special; though I enjoyed Chicken Run, it did not have the same feel as the films of the hapless inventor and his charming dog. I went into Curse of the Were-Rabbit with a bit of apprehension, not entirely certain that the duo could sustain a whole film, but I worried needlessly. The new film has all the charm and all the wit of its shorter predecessors.
One review of the film pointed out that one can see fingerprints on the characters, and this is true: on the big screen, it is possible to see lines and sworls left by the artists. However, this too is part of the charm of the series. There is a very home-made feel to the films, but it is not a home-made that any of us could capture or recreate. The art and skill of the film is not in-your-face; it is subtle. It is the art and skill of a craftsman. It is the attention to detail and the affection for the subject that carries the film.

My prejudices

Since I teach books like To Kill a Mockingbird and Night and Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, I often have students ask me about my personal prejudices. I have two answers, and I use one or the other depending upon my frame of mind at the time: stupid people and rude people. By stupid I mean people who do not think--not people who cannot think or people who have trouble thinking; I mean people who choose not to think. And so, probably, the two groups I list are more or less the same. Being rude is a kind of not thinking, with a large dose of not feeling thrown in for good measure.
I could list all kinds of rude and/or stupid acts, ad nauseum, but we all know the kinds of things I mean: driving too fast in a residential zone (Ah, if we were only all made of the same stuff as Garp); cutting in front of older people at the grocery; making crude comments about (take your pick) females, gays, ethnic groups, the elderly, the young, people from the South or the North or the Midwest or Canada; using inappropriate language in public.
Basically, it all comes down to being selfish. All rude and stupid behavior has its origin in caring more about oneself than about anyone else. I talk with my freshmen about archetypes in literature, and I point out that the biggest difference between the hero and the villain is that the former is selfless while the latter is selfish. We live in a culture of villains. Not everyone, of course. You and I are okay. We know better, right? We always think of others first. So I guess it's easy to see why people act the way they do--it's easier. Doesn't make it easier to accept, but what can we do?
Maybe we can try a little harder. Maybe if we think, then it would rub off on someone and they might start thinking. Scary concept, no?
Couldn't hurt.