A job to die for
by Anton Zuiker on January 16, 2025
I took a break from blogging tonight to watch The Devil Wears Prada. Had never seen that (that I remember) but I hear references to it all the time. The takeaway: whatever job you do, do it with integrity. Amen.
Edited the next night after I thought more about two specific scenes.
In Paris, Andy tells Christian she can’t give in to his advances because she’s had too much to drink and she’s not capable of making good choices, and the lout keeps going. That’s absolutely wrong. This makes me angry.
In a less consequential exchange in a NYC street, Nate answers Andy that he’s been making port reduction sauce all day and he’s “not in the Peace Corps.” This made me chuckle. I cherished my bottle of port on Paama Island, and the pork in plum sauce is one of the more memorable, and storied, meals of my time as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
Connoiseur of Silence
by Anton Zuiker on January 15, 2025
Last night, at the reception for Kelly’s book reading, I told a friend that I’d taken an eight-day silent retreat when I was in college (naturally, I’ve blogged about that). Silence is on my list of 2025 goals, part of my move to focusing on words that start with s. Strength is another. Subtlety. Skills. Smarts. Tonight, on my way home from soccer, I caught the tail end of Terry Gross’s Fresh Air interview with Pico Iyer. They ended with talk about silent meditation at a Benedictine monastery (Iyer) and a Zen monastery (singer Leonard Cohen). Iyer described Cohen as a “connoisseur of silence.” Lovely. I happened to see Iyer’s new book, Aflame, at Flyleaf last night, but I passed by since I haven’t finished reading his previous book. Now that I know what Aflame is about, I will circle back to get it.
After Fresh Air, President Joe Biden gave his farewell address from the Oval Office. (NYTimes has transcript here.) It was a strong speech even if he faltered a bunch. I liked the focus on the Statue of Liberty and the fact that it actually moves.
Like America, the Statue of Liberty is not standing still. Her foot literally steps forward atop a broken chain of human bondage. She’s on the march. And she literally moves. She was built to sway back and forth to withstand the fury of stormy weather, to stand the test of time because storms are always coming. She sways a few inches, but she never falls into the current below. An engineering marvel.
The other day when I was testing the scanner, one of the random slides I pulled out and scanned was the image above, a photo my father must have taken of the Statue of Liberty before I was born. (This scan shows dust and more; I’ll stop by the camera store later this week to get supplies to clean this old film.)
After soccer, I returned home, showered and dressed, then waited for the UNC men’s basketball game to end. Oliver was at the game with three friends, on tickets Oliver won as prize for selling the second-most amount of fancy popcorn in the high school athletics fundraiser. The Tar Heels handily beat Cal, and pickup along Manning Street amid the crowds went smoothly.
Oliver and I home now, drinking tea: Yunnan Golden Tips Supreme, from Upton Tea Imports. Oliver was interested in how to brew tea, so I showed him the expensive golden leaves and compared them to my other go-to teas, a Moroccan green mint and Hong Cha Mao Feng (also from Upton). We shared a bar of milk chocolate.
Redefining waste
by Anton Zuiker on January 14, 2025
In a post last September, I mentioned Truffles and Trash, a new book by our friend Kelly Alexander. This evening Oliver, Erin, and I returned to Flyleaf Books to hear Kelly talk about her field work in Brussels and how her research focus shifted from the value of black truffles—she worked in the kitchen of a top restaurant, where she noticed all the food being thrown out—to how she might redefine what the sheer volume of food waste means.
It was an interesting, informative, and uplifting story. Kelly highlighted the European Union and Belgian policies that focused attention and resources on the topic, and she talked about some of the local innovators who created the volunteer kitchens and restaurants to feed the hungry.
Kelly was joined tonight by Sera Cuni, a chef with restaurants in Chapel Hill and Pittsboro. Chef Cuni is also the founder of Feed-Well Fridges, a nonprofit organization that takes some of the unused food, makes it into meals, and places it into public fridges in the community.
Just last night, Erin and I were watching the new miniseries Lockerbie: A Search for Truth. There’s a scene in the 1980s English kitchen, and we noticed the small fridge, so diminutive compared to the nice fridge we have in our kitchen.
Long ago I wrote this blog post, Up high, down low, about a time I was hungry and asked to be fed. Six years later, I wrote this post, Box of hungry. It’s about hunger close to home. Rereading these, I know I haven’t done enough to remember my past, reduce waste, share wealth, give attention. Hearing Kelly read from her book tonight is reminding that I can help. Indeed, I have an obligation to do so.
Malia in Madrid
by Anton Zuiker on January 13, 2025
Malia spent last semester in Madrid studying with American University. She checked in with us nearly every day via text, FaceTime, WhatsApp, and email to tell us about her experiences, ask questions or get help (often about the iPhone and cell service), or let us know where she was traveling next. Nearly every weekend she seemed to be going to another place in Spain or country in Europe, sometimes as part of the program and often to visit her friends studying in other cities. I honestly couldn’t keep up, and while I was a bit nervous for her safety, I also was confident that she’d make the most of every location.
When Malia returned home and unpacked, she gave me the football jersey I had requested from Atlético de Madrid, and under the Christmas tree she put gifts of small jam jars and bottles of olive oil from markets in Europe and gifts for her sister and brother. She also handed me a small crinkly brown bag filled with postcards, one from each of the places she’d traveled.
In the hubbub of the holidays, and our own family trip to the Caribbean, I didn’t take the time to look at the stack of postcards until we were back home.
Once I did, I realized that she’d written a note on the back of each card to tell us what she’d done in each place — enjoyed the views from Santorini, admired the artwork of Antoni Gaudí in Barcelona, eaten a lot of cannoli in Roma, hiked volcanoes in the Canary Islands, visited the Van Gogh Museum and Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, thought of our new house as she looked at the amazing tiles in Porto, enjoyed Geneva and the French town of Annecy with her friends, and felt the history of Valencia and Sevilla and Cordoba and Toledo.
And her writing was beautiful and full of feeling.
I don’t think I can accurately put into words what this experience means to me. I went into study abroad expecting to challenge myself and step outside my comfort zone but I wasn’t sure how much I would grow. I have learned so much about myself during this experience. I have been lucky enough to travel to multiple different countries and cities. And most of all, I’ve gotten to fall in love with Madrid.
In five months, Malia packed in a lot of travel and memories. When I finished reading the set of messages, I had tears in my eyes. This pack of postcards was a beautiful and thoughtful gift to give me and Erin. We are so glad that she made the most of this opportunity to study abroad.
Mostly, I’m proud that Malia’s handwritten messages conveyed her wonder about this world and her sense of good fortune. “I’m beyond grateful for this experience,” she wrote in her final card.
Giving attention
by Anton Zuiker on January 12, 2025
On Micro.blog, I’ve been following Lou Plummer, @amerpie.lol, for a few years (I’m not sure if there’s a way for me to determine when I exactly hit the follow button). Lou is a natural blogger and he contributes app reviews, personal essays, and statements on current events throughout the day. I just reread his honest essay about quitting the bottle and his more recent post about the Difference Between Journaling and Blogging.
I’ve been blogging for 25 years, and journaling even longer. Similar to Lou, most of my journal entries have been about my daily activities—what I’ve done, where Erin and I traveled, how we cooked, what the kids learned. There wasn’t much writing about my emotions. My blogging even more tightly focused away from my feelings.
Or so I thought.
Part of what I have worked so hard on through therapy, meditation, coaching, reading, and long talks with Erin and friends is slowing down and breathing and taking the time to recognize all the feelings inside of me. Through this I’ve learned that I’m almost over-tuned to inputs around me, from sounds and heat to smells and yes, feelings.
And when I reread my old blog posts and paged through my old journals, reading more slowly and giving attention to the me who was writing those words, I noticed I could remember the feelings of those times. While my posts and entries didn’t usually say how I was feeling, I actually had a river of emotions that flowed through me, sometimes getting dammed up and sometimes erupting and plenty of times blossoming into smiles and laughs and love.
Now, in the morning (after I’ve sat still and breathed slowly and watched the dawn bring the day) I write in my journal and I often start with “This morning I am feeling …” It feels good to check in with myself this way.
In my blog posts, too, I’m trying to mention what I’ve noticed about how I am feeling.
As it happens, I’m excited to meet Lou. Turns out he lives in Fayetteville, just an hour away. We’re making plans to meet up for lunch. I know we’ll have a lot to talk about.