If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe. -Carl Sagan

Walking into work today, the iPod selected “A Glorious Dawn” by Symphony of Science, featuring Carl Sagan, Stephen Hawking and lots and lots of Auto-Tune. It begins with the above quote which always delights me.

The idea that the cosmos was created solely so that one day there would be apple pie is a magnificent thought to me. That some deity sprung into existence thinking “mmmmm, apple pie” or that the concentrated matter that became our universe blew apart in a Big Bang with the of anticipation of the warm apple pastry.

I can’t dismiss the fact that these thoughts occur to me in large part because of my 15 month-old daughter’s absolute adoration for Symphony of Science songs. Along with the fact that I have a duty to try to explain the universe and the whys-and-where-fors to her. (Clearly I favor a similar approach as Calvin’s dad.)

Taran’s sheer devotion to these remixed songs of scientist celebrities is a constant source of pleasure for Kip and me. Her especial favorite is “We Are All Connected”; upon hearing the first strains Richard Feynman on the bongos, she will get the most beatific smile on her face and toddle towards the source of the sound, which is usually her poppa’s computer, hoping to see the trippy visuals that accompany the video of the song. If the song comes up while she’s riding in the car, Taran will start to bob and weave her head and flex her hands in imitation of Bill Nye’s “Really I’m just a SPECK!” hand jive.

Unsurprisingly, all these thoughts put an extra bounce in my step as I headed to work.

And is probably why, upon seeing Taran when she and Kip picked me up from work, I felt it necessary to pick up six to eight apples on our way home.

Man, I was all set to do a joke update today, sketched out the art and everything. And then, about 3 weeks back, our four month old daughter who used to sleep through til morning began waking once or twice during the night. (I feel sucker punched, here.)*

Sigh.

I really enjoy April Fool’s, look forward to smirking through out the day (example, our IT guy announced a way to reduce costs and energy usage through limited email access: Last names starting A through M will have email access 6:30 AM through 1:00 PM. Last names starting N through Z will have email access 1:00 PM through 7:30 PM.) And I was totally stoked that this year’s was on a Wednesday, my regular update day. But between the day job, freelance, baby care** and the 5 hours of sleep per night AND baby’s first shoulder dislocation this past Friday AND AND a sudden computer upgrade… just not meant to be. Not with me enjoying it, which is the whole point.

I was contemplating going with a simple “screw comics” post, but I already did that and caused unintended heartburn for some folks. And I don’t think I’m in the right mental space to pull that off, all things considered.

And I told Patrick I got this week so no update from him either, I’m afraid. Entertainingly enough, my original April Fool’s prank was to present a slick, hyper stylized, action and boob packed comic as Dicebox’s new direction. Kinda redundant now.

As penance, and a way to rev back up into Dicebox as I complete other obligations*** I will be attempting to post something in the Dicebox Process Journal at least six times a week for the month of April. I will start tonight with a one of the cleaned up and colorized sketches. And this weekend I’ll share some concept art for Book 2 that I was originally planning to share today a balm for goofiness.

Oh, and updates to Dicebox here on out: Patrick and I will be alternating every other week until he’s finished, allowing me time to ramp up fully as well for hime to wrap up this epic. And they’ll be truly Wednesday updates again! With as much material as we can manage in two weeks time.

See you on April 15th with the beginning of Dicebox Book 1: Part 9: Out of a Molehill. No fooling.

*What she really wants is to sleep in the bed with Kip and me, something I gave her a taste for when traveling–hated the crib arrangement, room temperature and we were in a king sized bed. It’s also part of her biggest growth spurt yet, not just size but mental activity and physical ability. And it’s the fact that she can now roll and hoist herself along and over things that has me firmly vetoing her sharing the bed with us. Which means a good couple of hours every night getting her to settle and go back to sleep. In her own bed/bassinet.

**By which I mean breast feeding. I produce at least a quart everyday for our little monkey girl and, man, what a time consuming, exhausting enterprise that is. Looking forward to weaning, tantrums and all. I’ve seen it compared to a part time job, seven days a week and boy they’re not kidding.

***And wean the Kid.

But then my lovely mother called me to wish me Happy Thanksgiving, and she was, as she described it, “rosie.” This is is referring to that state she gets in when she’s had a glass or two of wine and has a a happy mellow buzz going.

This instantly reminded me of the Really Rosie TV special of the 70s featuring characters of Maurice Sendak and the singing of Carole King. Naturally this led me to think of the recent noise on the internet of early Sesame Street being rated adult only. For anyone who might not know, they’ve been deemed too depressing and scary for young children–for a variety of reasons that I find overly cynical and paranoid, and well, depressing.

This led to my recalling that they made the Snuffleupagus real on Sesame Street, a move I, and many of my peers, disapproved of. Then I tried to decide if there was ever one of those oversized character balloons of the Snuffleupagus in the Macy’s parade.

Naturally the Macy’s parade brought me back to Thankgiving, reminding me that I had better get cracking on my pie for today’s dinner or I would lose my window of kitchen time.

And this is the cranberry-apple pie I made before it went into the oven:

It’s a happy pie. It wants to be eaten ( A concept that really freaked me out as a kid.)

A co-worker just pointed out this exceptional photo set of pastries and chocolates from Japan. Some lovely pictures of truly decadent desserts.

As is our wont, Kip and I went over to Barry, Sarah and Charles’ house to share Thanksgiving with them and assorted friends and housemates: Matt, Kim, Sydney, Maddox, Jake, Bean, Dan, Bill, Anne, Dylan, Indy, Kevin, Katie, Owen and briefly John, Becca, Alice and another Matt.

As usual, I baked pie: mushroom and brandied butternut squash. As usual, Kip baked bread: goyish challah and potato oat.

Not much else to report: we talked a lot, laughed a lot, ate too much and then stumbled home in a food coma. And are still cleaning the kitchen.

The photo above is one I took of the Spiced Berry Balsamic Chocolates from a new coffee and chocolate bar that has opened near my workplace called Sweet Masterpieces.

Beyond the fact that they serve chai cider, I’m very pleased that this place has opened because it prompted me to do a web search for its actual name to share with a friend. While I failed to find that out online, I did chance across a website dedicated food in Portland, specifically “An Exploration of Portland Food and Drink” with the sub-title motto: Throwing Ourselves on the Grenade of Bad Food to Save You.

A group blog born of a misleading restaurant review, not only are there restaurant reviews (sometimes with menus), but they report on current Portland food trends, like local micro distilleries, supply press releases on upcoming food focused events and review food specialty shops, like the Meadow, a place that carries 35 kinds of salt.

I figure this to be a timely find as we are entering the rainy season, the rainy winters being part of my theory of why, according to my father-in-law, Portland was known for its fine restaurants even in the mid-60s. (I also credit the winter rains for the large amount of coffee, bath products, candles and book reading around these parts.)

Now, I don’t mean “how can they patronize such a multi-corp coffee house?” Though some of their practices as outlined in Naomi Klein’s No Logo sound just atrocious. I don’t know enough about the business practices of other coffee chains*, or Apple themselves to make that comparison.

No, I’m talking about the taste of the coffee itself. When it has any, that is. Cause my experience with Starbucks nationwide is that when the coffee isn’t burnt, it’s flavorless. I can see if you are really desperate and there is no other coffee in a twenty mile radius, but good lord! This is the land of coffee shops! And many are oh so good.

In fact I am moved to go get some coffee goodness right now. From Torrefazione, who, yes, Starbucks has bought, but haven’t ruined yet. Their unsweetened mochas are the best.

*Except Stumptown, who are coffee gods and always my first choice when possible.

Under Sex I would include the urge to masturbate, which I see as being different than the urge to copulate, and with Sleep I would include the idea of leisure, the need to be lazy or inactive. In exploring these concepts, I am unconcerned with bodily functions (such as breathing or voiding), emotions, or spiritual aspirations. I am simply interested in the physical drives that more or less we base our lives and culture around.

The drive to make money or amass riches? Well, in it’s purest form, it’s a way to secure better, bigger, more sex, food and leisure. I am as interested in the demented impulse to acquire money for its own sake as I am in underwater-scatalogical-kiddie-barnyard-animal porn.

Given my interest in trickster figures, these are aspects that I have been given reason to think about often, as your basic trickster indulges in them to excess, usually to comic effect. And this is what I see reflected in many of the most popular of the American TV sitcoms such as Friends, Scrubs, and so on. The main cast of most of these shows are picked from very specific groups—no matter how hip or modern they have been upgraded to be—and then painted in broad, fantastical strokes: They are New Yorkers (gypsies, bohemians, not mainstream) Hospital Staff (Soap Opera fodder, pantheon of gods [doctors] and nymphs [sigh, yeah, the nurses]) Gangsters, College and High School students and those that stand between us and the End of the World. The border groups, those on a threshold. Not normal. Not us.

So let’s begin. Instead of saving the “best” for last, let me begin with what began it:

Sex

Okay, let me just get this out of the way. Though I sympathize with Barry’s emotional reaction, let me just state I disagree with his general premise. Sorry: in my experience, people in the real world who base their lives around sex after their early twenties are looked on with as much derision as those who have none. Phoebe Buffay on Friends would be classified as a nymphomaniac who endangers herself daily and should be urged to seek help, if not be ostracized. As for Joey Tribbiani, well, no one would take him seriously—hmmm, actually, kinda like on Friends.

The fact is, this is not the real world nor does anybody I know take it as such. The main characters on these shows have insanely easy access to sex, as they do to real nice apartments, up-to-the-minute wardrobes and expensive gadgets. And a more than fair portion of each thirty minute episode is dedicated to sex humor, because sex is an easy hook and easy to make fun of because it is a point of vulnerability. But Hollywood overrates the time and effort that sex, or thoughts of sex, take up in our daily lives.

I actually find that premise easy to dismiss. What burns my cookies is the idea that love equals sex, like, say, on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. In the second season, when Angel, the vampire-with-a-soul, experienced true happiness, it wasn’t from the realization that he loved Buffy and Buffy loved him. Oh no. It’s when they had sex that his soul pops out. Gah… (Really, that makes Angel a bit of a girl that way—true acceptance through sexual encounter.)

I could go on and on about the unrealistic and unattainable sexual ideal for women on TV and in the movies (often conflicting, Ice Princess vs. Slut), but what about the men? Despite what Hollywood would have us think, they are not always ready to go. They can be, very specifically, not in the mood. Thank God. How annoying would it be, walking down the street with someone who is always this close to an erection?

Then there’s the sexual intolerance, actually, specifically, towards masturbation, which is not respected in its own right. Only those who can’t get any resort to masturbation, right? Well, no, not for me, and quite a few others I know. I like sex with another, I like masturbating, and the urge for both is quite distinct.

I actually find masturbation jokes irritating in an embarrassing kind of way. A sort of swaggering “oh, yeah, I can get It any time I want, so let me prove it in a slam against the losers who can’t” kind of way. Please.

True mundane sexual incompatibility never seems to be addressed; it’s either love of the Gods or the Psychos. Not the well, that didn’t work, or that was kinda icky. And it would be nice if the girl could be turned off by the young stallion (not the balding letch) for indefinable reasons. And vice versa, ’cept that the girl not be a nerd or homicidal bitch.

In real life, with those married couples I have known who have sought marriage counseling, it wasn’t because of sexual incompatibility or infidelity. It was a problem in communication and connection. And those people looking for a mate, male or female, do not emphasize the sex. They are looking for an emotional or intellectual connection with a person they trust enough to have sex with. (Now, “couple logic”, that’s a rant for another day.)

I know and have known friends who would be typified as average, mainstream Americans clubbers, been in Greek Houses, and those who would be considered promiscuous, though they‘d have nothing on Phoebe or Joey. And I have known those who indulged in the lewd talk because that’s what you do, right? Right? As for the scandalous affair that is on everyone‘s lips? Well, if it were common, no one would talk about it, and usually it’s two years old when you hear about it.

Sex is indeed commonly thought to be a measure of success—but not sex alone. There are other qualifiers such as social position, intellectual merit, popularity, etc. I mean, your average hooker outdoes all of us, but no one puts her or him up on a pedestal and toasts their achievements.

We aren’t that straightforward about sex; we can’t frankly talk about it or the possible consequences. Not like adults anyway, we haven‘t moved much beyond a grade school mentality in many respects. Though of all of the three appetites I’m discussing, it is the one that we can literally live without in a way we can’t with Food or Sleep. So why is it the most important, and why am I going to end up spending the most words on it?

Hunger

The human relationship with food is even more perverse than sex and usually treated as pornographically, with similar moral restrictions. Let’s go back to Friends, shall we?

A motto that I grew up with was “Never trust a skinny cook.” What, then, are we to do with Monica Geller?

Skinny? She’s a starvation victim. It‘s not just that she doesn’t enjoy food, she’s clearly repulsed by it. Then there’s the Bizarro alternate universe where she is a fat smelly geek, reflecting her adolescent trouble with eating. But, that Monica always seemed more content and comfortable and trustworthy than the starved-crazed “real” Monica.

Most anxiety relates to food—not enough or too much. In a land when a sense of never-ending supply and overwhelming portions is the goal, those that show any honest evidence of indulgence are scorned and ridiculed. Show us famine victims in Africa and we shriek and throw food at them without thinking out how it will actually reach them. Our insanity around food knows no bounds.

Food neuroses and limits are usually brought up at some point. And usually ridiculed. And when the actual food does make an appearance on your average TV show, is it pleasure in the healthy foods, nourishing staples or comfort foods? Oh no. It’s the bad foods, the naughty, the elite foods: dark chocolate, lobster, devil’s food cake. Not a tuna sandwich, not Nutella, not red beans and rice, not even a simple candy bar or a glass of water, things people I know will really crave and feel better by.

But the real screwed up messages about food for me come from the commercials. Talk about conflicting messages and unrealistic measures of success. And the gender politics? Brrr. Yes, women can do it all: a career, motherhood, house-keeping, cook every meal while eating Jenny Craig, keeping herself safe from exposing the fact she‘s “on her period” and following Jenny Craig–all without pores! Whereas the men are generally too stupid to work a microwave and so have to resort to fast food. But that’s okay if they can figure out what beer to party with.

Sleep

Or, as I said, leisure. You can find dozens of articles on how screwed up Americans are about simply relaxing and doing nothing. Most instances I see on the sitcom is the ruined vacation or the prevention of sleep, funny because, well, do they really deserve this rest? Shouldn’t they be working or looking for fulfillment?

I actually would put drugs under this category rather than Sex—and alcohol as well, as opposed to Hunger. It’s all recreation, a change and an escape. All good. We actually need this for our all-over health—physically, emotionally and mentally.

It still cracks me up that in the dot com days, all these fringe alternative web jockeys put in 80 hour weeks for their Company. It was a striving for virtual money at the sacrifice of their health and well-being. And I thought that this was the Slacker generation…

And vacations aren’t vacations unless you are doing something—skiing, hiking, cancer research, whatever. And as for the weekends, when someone asks, “What did you do?” surely you cannot answer “sat on my ass the whole time, and, by God, I liked it!’

Conclusion

Let me just some up by saying there is no real conclusion, no new thoughts, theories or observances. We humans are screwed up into tight little balls over our base—as well as our higher—impulses. We check ourselves against the perceived norm and calculate who are our allies and who are not. As with any other human venture. This, as always, comes out in the most popular tales of the day.

In these stories, human nature and appetites are exaggerated and often lampooned. There is usually moral judgement and retribution appropriate to maintain the status quo. Excessive behavior will be often punished, but sometimes rewarded depending on the offender. And though these stories reflect the standards of the culture of where they are told, they never were a place to derive an accurate picture of everyday experience or beliefs.

Like I said, when Kip and I go out to eat, it’s ov er at a friend’s house more often than not. Almost all our friends have at least one or two things they can cook and cook well. In the same way I enjoy scoping out the books, video and Cds that people keep out in public, I like seeing what people choose to cook.

For example, I was very charmed the time Christopher had us over for dinner and actually used the lasagna recipe printed at the back of Bruno book 3, These Troubled Soles. (And, oh yes, it was yummy)

Actually been treated to quite a bit of lasagna lately, a nice veggie one at Elaine and Mark’s a couple of weeks ago and then a few days after that John and Becca brought over a white lasagna that John made full of tasty things like spinach, artichokes and green olives. It was made with a white sauce because John has a sensitivity to tomatoes. Which is actually what prevented us having a lasagna when Victoria and Johnzo had all four of us over a few weeks ago. Instead, we had a tofurkey dinner with all the trimmings— the first time Kip and I have had tofurkey, which is a feat considering Kip has been a vegetarian since we first got together about nine years ago.

Before this dinner, the first we had with Johnzo and Victoria, Johnzo emailed to find out any dietary restrictions we might have, remembering that one of us was vegetarian. I wrote back not only mine and Kip’s, but John and Becca’s as well.

Many of my friends have this small part of their brains dedicated to their people’s eating preferences and needs. Everyone I know has something they can’t or won’t eat, from lactose intolerance to cutting out wheat to citrus allergies to nausea when confronted with soy sauce. Not to mention temporary fasts and diets. (Just try getting all these people together to share one meal. Oy.)

When most of the vegetarians you know dislike eggplant, you just can’t assume anything when you invite people to dinner. Gets stressful at times.

So when my co-worker, Chelsea, read aloud the following questionnaire composed by her husband Brian Vandiver, I had to laugh. And share:

Please print and fill out this form and return to us at least seven days prior to tentative dinner date.

WHAT YOU EAT
Choose only one of the below:

Omnivore (eat damn near anything or the-world-is-made-of-food)
Carnivore (eat meat only)
Herbivore/Vegan (eat plants only)
Piscivore (eat fish only)
Vegetarian (Limited Omnivore or a-herbivore-that-likes-dairy)

POLITICAL DIET LIMITATIONS
Choose as many that apply:

Will eat GMO’s (If you know what GMO stands for, you know whether or not you eat them. If you don’t know, don’t worry about it.)

List all foods currently boycotting (Be brand specific if necessary. Use separate sheet if needed. Don’t list why.)

Eat only Organic Foods (If the word “organic” doesn’t invoke an instant definition then don’t worry about it.)

DIET LIMITATIONS
Intolerances and Allergies. (i.e. Lactose, gluten, peanuts)
List everything. Start with those things that could kill you. For just plain
picky people this is a good area to list those foods you flat out just don’t like. If you are a recovering Alcoholic and can’t have alcohol even in your food please list. Write on back if necessary.

Religious or fasting:
Are you a practicing Catholic?
Does the date fall during Lent?
Practicing Jew?
Do you eat pork?
Are you fasting for any reason?
Islamic?
Does the date fall during Ramadan?
Please write in any religious food restrictions not listed above.

ETHIC FOODS
Circle those you don’t want. Put stars by the ones you love. Ones with stars or left not circled need to have a an “AM” after them signifying Americanized or an “AU” signifying Authentic.

Mexican
Japanese
Chinese
Moroccan
Ethiopian
Italian
Soul Food
German
Spanish
French
Russian
Greek
Thai
Astronaut
Tex-Mex
Cajun
East Indian
Mediterranean
White Trash
California Fusion
Other____________

ON A DIET
Circle all that apply:

Atkins
Caveman
Low Carb.
High Carb.
Yo-yo
SeeFood
High Protein
No Protein
Meat only
Deal-a-meal (bring your own cards)
Calorie Counting
Other_____________

GUESTS
Choose one only:

I like to eat alone.
I don’t like assholes or bitches.
I think assho les and bitches are just misunderstood little kids in grown-up bodies. I don’t mind eating with groups of people as long as there are no surprise guests that I haven’t been notified of.
I like kids.
I like kids but not while I’m trying to eat.
I don’t like kids.
I like people who talk constantly.
I like quite, shy people.
I’ll bring someone.

ATMOSPHERE

Do you like to dress up?
Do you hate to dress up?
Does it really bother you to dress up and then end up watching Will and Grace while drinking coffee at 8 o’clock at night?
Does it bother you to wear sweats and end up drinking a hundred dollar bottle of wine while discussing the finer points of Post-Modernism with a renowned author?
Do you have a hard time seeing in low light?
List all music you prefer not to hear or that you will make fun of.

THE DATE
Choose one:

A date cemented in stone.
A flexible date, penciled in and subject to change by the slightest whim orfancy.
A date of your choosing.
A date of my choosing.
A suggestion that you can mull over and not get back to me until that morning.

GIFTS
Please specify what makes you feel most comfortable:

Should I ask you to bring something?
If so, would you like it to be something you can buy at the store?
Do you not like bringing something?
Do you feel pressured to show up with a $15.00 bottle of wine?
Do you like to cook and want at least one thing on the table you know you can eat?

Thanks for taking the time. This will help make the evening enjoyable for everyone.