Entry #11

Entry #11

Thursday, September 22

1:30 p.m. There must be someone in the corporate office of Hubbell & Hudson who's Jewish because they’re selling round challahs for Rosh Hashanah as well as potato latkes. The latkes are on display next to bacon-wrapped meatloaf, interestingly. Still...

Thanksgiving decorations are already out, and there are a host of figurines for sale including Indians and Pilgrims, both male and female (no kids though). How does one arrange such figurines? How many does one get of each? Right now they’re all in a group huddle.

2:00 p.m. I finally found out that Terry Gross’s show, Fresh Air, is on at 11:00 a.m. Michael Lewis, the author of Moneyball, is tomorrow’s guest.

I’ve met Michael Lewis before. He’s a parent at Prospect Sierra, the school my kids attended before we moved. While Michael Lewis is quite busy being a world-famous, best-selling writer, he’s still a dad, which brings him down to earth, at least on campus. 

This brings the Six Degrees of Separation game to mind: Me, Michael Lewis, Brad Pitt (a mere two degrees—the closest I’m sure I’ll ever get to Brad Pitt). I have a good friend in New York who’s usually my Six Degrees of Separation connection (she just had dinner with President Obama a few days ago), but this one was fun.

Friday, September 23

We went to see a movie last night and the downtown area was nearly deserted. We were one of three couples in the theater and went outside and saw hardly anyone there, too. A Dutch woman I met at the kids’ school likens The Woodlands to The Truman Show, and this film definitely came to mind while walking along the empty downtown streets.

If you haven’t seen it, here’s a synopsis:

Truman Burbank is the star of one of the most popular shows in television history. The only thing is—he doesn't know he's the star. An entire other world has been fabricated for him... His hometown is a giant set piece, and everyone around him is an actor going by a script. But Truman is not happy with his life. He wants to see the world. He wants to get away from his happy-happy, ever tidy, nice'n'shiny little town...

8:00: I overslept this morning after having weird dreams about a gigantic black spider I saw scamper across David’s shoe on the sidewalk last night. It was the biggest spider I’ve ever seen, something that may very well be related to Hagrid’s friend, Aragog.

Upon leaving the house, our next-door-neighbor was also leaving. Izzie saw her and instead of hopping into the car like she usually does, she ran around like a lunatic and jumped up on our neighbor (who’s allergic to dogs). Our neighbor smiled and said, “It’s all good,” but I knew it was not. I made things worse by asking if her cleaning lady would be available to clean our house, too. She explained that this woman only cleans their house. Oh.

I felt bad about our morning interchange, so I bought a small yellow rose plant for my neighbor and wrote a note of apology. Only after I made the purchase did I make the connection between this plant and “The Yellow Rose of Texas.” No symbolism intended.

On the way home, a sporty silver Mercedes swerved around me and sped by. Its license plate read: GT GRL. This brings the following questions to mind: What will his vanity plate say if he loses the girl? Should he really be advertising the fact that he needed a sports car to get her in the first place?

This morning’s Huffington Post cited a satirical Twitter account, @RickPerryFacts, which now has more than 1,700 entries:

Since 2009, the satirical Twitter account has documented everything that makes Rick Perry the 2012 election's most bad-ass candidate, from peeling potatoes with his eyelids to ghostwriting every article in Garden & Gun magazine...these are the only facts you need to know.

Here’s a sampling:

• Rick Perry’s cereal never gets soggy. It sits there, staying crispy for him.
• Rick Perry has never lost a sock. Ever.
• When somebody yells, “Last one is a rotten egg,” Rick Perry is never, ever the rotten egg.
• Rick Perry lives vicariously through himself.
• Rick Perry does not “style” his hair. It lays perfectly in place out of sheer terror.

Saturday, September 24

Noah decided he wanted to join a bowling league. He’s been asking me about bowling for quite sometime actually, but I’ve always managed to find something better for him to do that didn’t involve a dark, noisy space with lots of greasy food, cigarettes, and greasy balls. Now that we have plenty of time,  I really couldn’t say “no.” So, for the foreseeable future, Noah will go bowling on Saturday mornings at the AMF bowl just outside The Woodlands bubble.

Noah’s actually fairly good at bowling, though his form is pretty goofy—he seems to do an arabesque upon releasing the ball. Aidan explained to the bowling coach that Noah bowls the way Lincecum pitches, but the coach said he’s a football guy and didn’t get the reference. I wonder if he’ll say anything about Noah’s balletic form. I hope not. It’s what makes his bowling entertaining.

I saw lots of kids with bowl cuts and thought it ironic that I noticed this at the bowling alley...One woman was stitching quilted coasters to pass the time while the coach handed out forms. Do you know there are 22 official rules? Seems everyone takes their “sport of choice” very seriously around here.

Izzie needed to go out, so I took her for a walk around the area, which was largely composed of parking lots with the frontage road traffic on both sides. We went around the back of the bowling alley in search of a garbage can and I accidentally opened up the blackened “grease only” lid. That’s one way to kill a craving for french fries...

2:30 p.m. Noah and Aidan had a basketball game today, the first one they’ve played together. Since Noah’s taller than anyone on either team, he’s a natural rebound guy, and scored the first basket. Aidan didn’t have as promising a start, having been elbowed in the ear and knocked down in the first quarter. He recovered, though, and scored the first three-pointer.

While Noah and Aidan don’t really look alike, there is a palpable connection between them, and it’s fascinating to watch from the bleachers. 

4:00 p.m. After the game we were going to take the kids out for a treat, but David had to go to Wal-Mart to return some light bulbs. The kids were thirsty and so we went in to get a drink, only we couldn’t find a section that would simply sell individual drinks. We walked around the store's periphery and finally ended up finding a six-pack of juice (packed in plastic bottles and plastic wrap). 

As we headed towards checkout, we passed more processed food than I ever knew existed. Did you know that Wal-Mart sells 18 different types of Oreos alone (not including generic brands)? I never even knew that Oreos came in so many flavors and fillings (ranging from white to pink to green to brown, in various thicknesses).

There’s an entire aisle devoted to not just soda, but Coca-Cola brand sodas on one side and chips on the other. Display aisles advertised Kool-Aid in wax bottles, Velveeta cheese shells, beef jerky and Uncle Ben’s instant rice. This is the antithesis of Whole Foods. Perhaps Wal-Mart's grocery section should be named Processed Foods.

Inside this giant Wal-Mart is a McDonald’s, for people who want warmed processed foods. There’s also a phone store, a nail salon and a barber shop inside, as well as a check-cashing place. I imagine some people spend several hours at a time inside that place. I couldn’t leave fast enough.

10:00 p.m. Watched two more episodes of Friday Night Lights. We're completely hooked.

Here’s my favorite quote from tonight’s episode:

“Texas isn’t even technically a state—it’s a republic. It would be nice to live somewhere that’s actually a part of this planet!” —Coach Taylor’s daughter, Julie

Sunday, September 23

Robert Redford wrote to the Houston Chronicle recently, in an article with the headline, “Let’s say no to the pipeline that threatens U.S. heartland.”

Here’s an abbreviated version:

The Keystone XL pipeline would transport the dirtiest oil on the planet from the Canadian province of Alberta to Gulf Coast refineries, wedding our nation's energy future to the destructive ways of the past. 

It would promote one of the most damaging industrial practices ever deployed, the strip mining and drilling of Canada's boreal forest, to coax low-grade crude oil from tar sands. 

And it would put at risk the farmers, ranchers and croplands upon which our nation depends, exposing them to the kind of ruptures and blowouts that in just the past year have brought environmental disaster to the Yellowstone River, the North Sea and the Gulf of Mexico.

Rather than building a conduit to the past, we should invest in a clean-energy future centered on efficiency, sustainable communities and renewable power. That's the way to put Americans back to work, make our country more secure and create a healthier future for our children. (September 12, 2011).

After getting heat for his op-ed piece, Redford wrote a follow-up editorial in The Huffington Post, beginning with this opening sentence:. 

“When you challenge Big Oil in Houston, you can bet the industry is going to punch back...” —Robert Redford, 9/24/11

Now that I'm living in the Greater Houston area, Redford's article and commentary really hit home. It’s impossible not to notice the emphasis on oil and gas here—The Woodlands was built by a wealthy oil tycoon for people who work for the oil industry. If only there was a bit of environmental awareness...

6:00 p.m. I just ordered a pizza for David and the kids from a place called Grimaldi’s. They advertise the following, “The mozzarella for our pizza comes from free-range cows.” I’ve heard of free-range chickens, but never thought about the fact that cows might not be able to roam free. Gosh. Now I have another thing to worry about when I shop for dairy products.

I could really use a haircut, so I looked up “hair salons in The Woodlands" and found a list with names like “Brass & Sassy Hair,” “Got Style,” “Hot Headz Hair,” “Texas Hair Team,” and “Visible Changes.” I'm going wait until I return to San Francisco in December. I should have a foot of hair to donate by then.

Monday, September 26

9:30 a.m. I found myself reading the sports section, specifically an article about a football player who beat cancer and is now a professional football player. Before watching Friday Night Lights, I wouldn’t have even glanced at the sports section. Okay, so it’s an emotional piece. Still, it’s a sports article! Seems I’m beginning to drink the Texas Kool-Aid.

In the mail I received a manila envelope that turned out to be two packets that Aidan filled out on his first day of Sunday school. It was fun to read what Aidan had to say.

Q: Who is your favorite athlete?

A: Fear the Beard (Brian Wilson)

Q: If you could do one thing to change the world, what would it be?

A: Solve peace and make less garbage.

Q: How can you be a better brother/sister?

A: Don’t be boisterous and get in their space. Be kind and generous.

Q: How can you be a better friend:

A: Listen to them and don’t be mean and tell friends jokes they don’t get.

Q Why is it bad to be jealous:

A: Because the world is full of happiness but you won’t get everything.

Q: What Torah story interests you most?

A: Noah and the Ark because it is cool and my brother’s name is Noah and I love animals.

Q: Your question to Mr. Schlossberg:

A: Can you please not be so strict  When I ask a question I am just curious. I don’t mean to offend you. Do you like teaching?

2:00 p.m. Just returned from my first Bikram yoga class. I now understand why people call it “sweaty yoga.” The room is 105 degrees with 40% humidity. A man standing in front of me was drizzling with sweat—it was just pouring out of him. I’ve never seen anything like it.

Before class I spoke to the instructor. While telling me about the class, he took off his shirt to reveal that he was wearing nothing more than a teeny pair of gray stretch shorts. I tried to act casual.

After class he showed me how to protect the lower back by extending the pelvic area, only I couldn’t watch closely for obvious reasons. Once again, nonchalance was key.

After class, I walked into Hubbell & Hudson to meet David for a quick lunch. We sat on the second floor where there’s café seating and I noticed that the ceiling looked like it was covered with gray snow. While I understand the appeal of industrial design, exposed spray-on insulation just isn’t an appetizing sight. The rest of the store is beautiful. Just don’t look up.