Takes a Village

While my blog has been silent for the past few weeks rest assured that its creator has not been. Came back from a restorative week at the beach. Cape May to be exact. Now Cape May is one of my favorite beach towns for several reasons. You know food's gotta be one of them and it sure is. The great shopping is another reason but the real allure is that Cape May is a dog beach town. It has a long expanse of beach in which dogs can cavort and rest their salty wee paws in the Atlantic.

I was accompanied to the beach by my friend Nina, a dog lover and karoke singer. You should hear her do La Bamba. what a Mexican yodel! Watching her play with Duke I realized why I've never desired to raise a child. I can't fathom doing it by myself, the thought alone exhausts me. And by alone I mean with a father and parent to my child, but we are still only a couple. What Nina showed me was a remembrance of how Indian children are reaised by aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmothers, grandfathers. All pitching in to watch the baby so she doesn't totter on unstable legs and fall on her face. To feed the wee one so Mom can eat. To keep her amused, thereby connecting with the energy of another human being. To punish her when she's naughty. To admire, croon, shower love so she grows up thinking she is a magnificent creature. If I had that kind of support I'd have squeezed out a dozen kids. But my life as it stands only offers the prospect of support in the form of expensive daycare and even more expensive nannies.

But this became clear to me. Does it take a village to raise a child? Hell yeah!

In Defense of Dining Out

Growing up with Puritan-minded parents taught me frugality and self denial. This manifested itself in many ways; always buying discounted clothing, 2nd hand cars instead of flashy new models, recycling items like computers and handbags long after they outlived their usefulness.

This also effected one area of my life that mattered most. Food. Due to my Dad's curious combination of spend thriftiness and a dislike of non Indian food, we never ate out. Dad reasoned "Why spend money on food that doesn't satisfy me when I can eat good food at home?" Thus my childhood and adolescence were deprived of dinners at upscale venues and even family style restaurants.

Unlike my parents neither my brother nor I shared their distaste for eating out. And to this day we think nothing of plopping into a neighborhood eatery or pub. Matter of fact, I love it. I count the month lost when I have not discovered a gem of a joint that serves a dish spectacularly well. Or a restaurant that has an aura and food that thrill my soul and stomach.

Still I do feel nudgings of guilt when I eat out instead of cooking just bought groceries. Must be my upbringing.