THINGS THAT DON’T WORK

THINGS THAT DON’T WORK – EVEN THOUGH THEY SHOULD

Right now my whole house stinks of vinegar.

I am in the process of trying to save our cast iron skillet. You see, it was one of my favorite pans a couple of weeks ago. And I thought, well, maybe I should season it again. For those of you who are not familiar with cast iron skillets, you’re supposed to rub the inside with oil and bake them in the oven every now and then so that they maintain their “non-stick” quality. If you do it correctly, these pans will last forever and will cook like a dream with barely any clean-up at all.

Well, it had been a while since I had seasoned the skillet, and I wasn’t sure how much oil to use or what temperature to bake it in. I also was unsure about how long to bake it in the oven. So, being a twenty-first century kind of a girl, I consulted the Internet. I Googled “care of cast iron pans”, and a whole bunch of information appeared before me. I read several of the offerings, and finally hit upon one that seemed very sensible. They instructed me to first rub the pan with a “generous” amount of vegetable oil. They gave me a temperature and told me to leave the pan in for about two hours. Which I did. At the end of the seasoning, they said to “pour out the remaining oil”, and that’s where I did a double take. I remembered vaguely that the first time I had seasoned that pan I had just rubbed it with enough oil to cover it, and then when I took it out of the oven, most of that oil had seeped into the pan. But – (and this is my own particular downfall) I didn’t trust my memory, and I thought, “If it’s on the Internet, surely it must be right”. So I dutifully lathered vegetable oil on all three of my cast iron skillets and set them in the oven.

Lo and behold – When I removed them from the oven at the end of the prescribed two hours, each pan was covered with a brownish, greasy, sticky coating. I couldn’t pour out the excess oil because it was now solid. It appeared that the only way I was going to get the excess oil out of these pans was to scratch it out with my fingernails.

So this morning I finally got around to looking in my household tip books – I’ve got a little book called “Mary Ellen’s Best of Helpful Kitchen Hints”. My mother-in-law gave it to me early on in my marriage, since it was apparent to her that I was – shall we say – domestically challenged. I have to admit that at the time I felt a little bit miffed by the implication, but this morning I was overwhelmingly grateful.

As best I can determine, the best I can do now is to boil a little vinegar and salt in the pans. This is supposed to lift off the burnt-in food. (Well, in this case, burnt-in oil). That’s why my whole house stinks of vinegar. The jury is still out as to whether this will actually work.

I seem to have a knack for following directions that don’t work. I don’t know why. I mean, I’m very obedient by nature. When I was in grade school I always got As in citizenship and the comment, “follows directions”, was always checked off.

But there is such a thing as “too much of a good thing”. I am forever undercooking or overcooking our dinner because the directions on the package aren’t calibrated for our oven, which is always a little hotter or a little cooler than what it’s set for. When Art asks me whether I “stuck my finger in it” to see if it’s done, I am appalled. I don’t want anyone sticking their fingers in my food. I protest, “But the directions said. . .” and he cuts me off by pointing out, “You can’t go by the directions!” This flies in the face of all I have ever believed in. I have always believed in my heart of hearts that if it’s written in black and white, it must be so. (Where on earth did I get that)?!

Same thing with recipes. I am scrupulous about following the recipe when I cook. If the recipe says to add an eighth teaspoon of salt, I will use a quarter teaspoon and fill it exactly half way. Of course, none of this guarantees anything. I had a recipe for applesauce cake, for example. I would follow the recipe religiously time after time, believing that it was somehow my fault that it came out spongey and undercooked. It took our son, Tobias – himself a very talented chef – to point out to me that the recipe was flawed. He took one look at the directions, halved the amount of applesauce, added some flour, changed the time in the oven, and finally, I had a real applesauce cake. Toby made me chant with him over and over, “What don’t we follow? The recipe!”.

And while we’re on the subject of things that should work but don’t – I have this problem with the computer. Time after time I will be working on the computer and will try to execute a simple command, like “save” or “print” or “close”, and the computer will suddenly freeze on me. I have no idea why. After a half hour of pressing the little button over and over again in a desperate but futile attempt to save face, I am forced to call on Art. Most of the time (there are exceptions) he will calmly walk over, press the same button that I did, and voila. It works. I am long past the point of getting angry over this. I simply accept it as part of my “magic touch”. But it is embarrassing.

I don’t know what the lesson is in all of this. Some things work. Some things don’t. And some things are inconsistent – They work sometimes. They don’t work other times. And some things work for some people and not others. Sometimes you should follow directions. Sometimes you shouldn’t. But it’s anyone’s guess as to when and to what extent. (Sigh). Just one more mystery to the Universe.

© 2005, Robin Munson

LIVING IN THE LIGHT

Last night we had dinner with some friends. Although we would like to see them more often, the opportunity is rare, so the four of us usually wind up talking for several hours while our wait-person twiddles her thumbs and wonders whatever we could be talking about.

Oh – Not much. We just solve the world’s problems, that’s all. We talk about politics and religion (the two big no-nos). We talk about life in America versus life in other parts of the world. (These friends are big travelers and have lived for extended periods of time in Europe and Asia). We talk about the creative life – (both of them are very gifted). We talk about family. In other words, we cover all the bases.

Last night we got to talking about movies. It was one of those situations where they would say, “And have you seen. . .?” And we would say, “No, but have you seen. . .?”. Finally I had to take out a pen and scribble down some titles on a napkin so I wouldn’t forget. (My mind is rather porous these days). While we were talking about movies, I realized that my taste in movies has changed quite a bit.

Back when I was in college, my favorite films were the ones by Ingmar Bergman. Of course, I had no money so I had to watch scratchy, blotchy copies on home movie screens set up in the basement of the dorm. You may have seen some of them, “Wild Strawberries”, “The Seventh Seal” – there were many, whose titles I no longer can remember. What I can remember is the darkness of the films. Looking back, they remind me of what Garrison Keillor refers to as the “Dark Lutherans”. There was a starkness to these films, a bleakness that always left me in an altered state. The one that stays with me the most is “The Seventh Seal” which was a movie about the black plague: A knight plays chess with Death in a futile attempt to save his life from the epidemic. It ends with a very famous image of Death leading the knight and his family into the sunset. It was eerie, beautiful, and depressing. Dark, dark, dark.

So anyway. Last night this friend and I were talking about movies, and we both agreed that nowadays we would rather watch films that enlighten and lighten – films that focus on the happier side of life. I think this is because after you’ve been on this planet for a while, you realize that you don’t have to seek out the dark side. It will find you. There is plenty of stuff out there to be sad about – all you have to do is turn on your TV, glance at the headlines, tune in to NPR on your way to work in the morning, or just overhear a conversation while waiting in line at the bank. In other words, you can’t avoid it. If I had never read a newspaper in the past two years I would still know the names of Scott Peterson and Lacy Peterson. I would still know why I know those names. And even if I put cotton in my ears, I would have to walk around with those images tattooed to my brain.

My friend is worried that by not exposing herself (deliberately) to the more weighty issues she will be “burying her head in the sand”. Well, to that I answer this. And suppose you did not bury your head in the sand. What, among the smorgasbord of catastrophes, could you personally change? The answer, it turns out, (and you have to have lived a few years to know this, too) is: precious little.

My wise therapist once reminded me that I should save my energy for something more constructive than wringing my hands over the political direction of the country. As he pointed out, “You have one tiny little vote.” And so it is with so many things. When you are confronted with something that upsets you, ask yourself if there is anything you can do to change it. If the answer is “No”, move on. If the answer is “a little”, go ahead and do it.

If the answer is, “A lot!” – Then by all means, go for it. But realize that you’re in for quite a battle and will probably deserve sainthood when it’s all said and done.

Meanwhile. Seen any “feel-good” movies lately? I highly recommend “Second Hand Lions”.

© 2004 Robin Munson

I’VE GOT ONE LAST NERVE, AND KARL ROVE, YOU’RE ON IT

I want to go on record as saying here and now that I am one heterosexual, married woman who is a member of the so-called “American People”, who is not threatened by the idea of gay marriage.

I was just watching the News Hour with Jim Lehrer, and one of the guests was a very uptight looking woman who was representing some organization whose sole purpose is to create a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. This woman had the gall to purport to speak for the “American People”. For the record, she does not – I repeat – does not speak for me. (Or my husband, for that matter).

How threadbare must your marriage be for you to be afraid that someone somewhere is enjoying the benefits of marriage with a (gulp) member of the same sex? It is not the constitution that needs changing. It is the petty, narrow-minded, hypocritical stance of all those self-righteous, fundamentalist Christians who believe they know how everyone else should conduct their life in the bedroom.

Dear God – Don’t we have bigger fish to fry?! We’ve got the war in Iraq. We’ve got terrorists plotting against the citizens of this country every day. We’ve got diseases like AIDS, cancer, ALS, Alzheimer’s, and a flu that may possibly get out of control this winter thanks to a huge shortage of vaccine. We’ve got hunger right here in America. We’ve got violent crime destroying lives in our inner cities. We’ve got children who can’t go to school because they don’t have a permanent address.

But the biggest thing on the mind of America is gay marriage?!

I’m just too fed up, too frustrated, and too angry to write more on this just now – except to say how embarrassed I am to be lumped together with these so-called “American People”.