2 Things

According to the song, there are 2 things that money can't buy -- true love and home grown tomatoes. Thanks to Elaine, I have both.

Happy birthday my love.

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I have read 2 novels recently where contemplation of divorce was part of the plot, Walter Percy's The Thanatos Syndrome and Garrison Keillor's Liberty. In addition, an essayist I usually enjoy, Sandra Tsing Loh, chronicled her own divorce in The Atlantic Monthly and questioned whether lifetime monogamy was really all that praiseworthy. This unfortunate set of reading led to nightmares and conversations with Elaine along the line of: "Sure our marriage seems swell now, but what can we do to keep the odds in our favor?

We didn't come to any grand conclusions other than the standard ones: keep communicating, spend time together, work toward shared goals, blah, blah, blah.

At any rate, I was primed to receive a spirit-lifting story, and here it is: Those Aren’t Fighting Words, Dear by Laura A. Munson. Munson might have a slight New Age-y vibe, but her story also feels very New Testament.

Ross Douthat's column today that uses Judd Apatow films as jumping off point to discuss the difference between talking the family values talk and walking the family values walk is good. So is Timothy Egan's on the danger of misinformation.

TKM

In ninth grade English, we read To Kill a Mockingbird (TKM). We enjoyed lively discussions, and our term papers on the book were our first real attempts at literary criticism. Now I’m wondering how my beloved Mrs. Spurlock would have graded Malcolm Gladwell. Here’s a paragraph from Gladwell’s essay:

"In the middle of the novel, after Tom Robinson’s arrest, Finch spends the night in front of the Maycomb jail, concerned that a mob might come down and try to take matters into its own hands. Sure enough, one does, led by a poor white farmer, Walter Cunningham. The mob eventually scatters, and the next morning Finch tries to explain the night’s events to Scout. Here again is a test for Finch’s high-minded equanimity. He likes Walter Cunningham. Cunningham is, to his mind, the right sort of poor white farmer: a man who refuses a W.P.A. handout and who scrupulously repays Finch for legal work with a load of stove wood, a sack of hickory nuts, and a crate of smilax and holly. Against this, Finch must weigh the fact that Cunningham also leads lynch mobs against black people. So what does he do? Once again, he puts personal ties first. Cunningham, Finch tells his daughter, is “basically a good man,” who “just has his blind spots along with the rest of us.” Blind spots? As the legal scholar Monroe Freedman has written, “It just happens that Cunningham’s blind spot (along with the rest of us?) is a homicidal hatred of black people.” "

Agree with him or not (and I think he goes a little overboard here) Malcolm Gladwell can flat out write. He makes connections that I would never ever see on my own.