Category: American Culture

  • Anachronisms (Or 3 Reasons Why I Love My Electronic Devices)

    My youngest son and I were talking about eating alone in restaurants, when I flashed back to life before cell phones, tablets, GPS and Internet connectivity. He’s a nice guy, so he didn’t tease me about my “Why in my day, Sonny, we used to . . .” moment. Electronic devices have profoundly changed the outcome of several awkward or frustrating experiences.

    Eating Alone

    While traveling for business in the late 1980’s, I faced a dilemma that no longer exists: how to eat alone in a restaurant without looking weird or attracting unwanted attention.

    Articles for career women advised bringing a book and reading at dinner. That way you wouldn’t feel stupid, and you wouldn’t attract sleazy guys trying to pick you up. Or you could order room service and avoid the whole issue.

    I usually preferred a good meal with a glass of wine to a dry turkey sandwich in my room, so I learned to carry a book. Wait staffs’ reactions and service varied from dismissive to sympathetic. To boost my confidence and convey that I had a right to be there, I was pleasant but a bit aloof. While waiting for my order I sipped my wine and read. Usually that worked, but sometimes I didn’t have the energy for the performance.

    Now I can take my smartphone or tablet and catch up on email, check Facebook, read online, or write and be legitimately busy and content. I don’t have to worry that I look pathetic or vulnerable.

    Missing Connections

    Before cell phones, bad luck could ruin a rendezvous. Imagine this: you’re in Chicago on business. You have a free afternoon before your flight and want to see a college friend. You agree to meet by the lions in front of the Art Institute at 1:00. By 1:15, you’re checking your watch and wondering. At 1:35, you’re frustrated and uncertain. Stay? Go? What’s going on?!?

    Screen Shot 2015-05-27 at 10.47.28 PM

    There was no way for your friend to call or text to say, “Missed my train. Can I meet you inside by the Chagall window at 2:00 instead?” You could go inside alone but she’d have no idea where to find you. Or you could leave, angry and disappointed. Either way, you would have missed each other. The afternoon of laughs and reminiscing couldn’t be salvaged.

    Getting Lost

    MissouriFor years, I’ve driven cross-country for family visits to Ohio or vacations in Virginia, Texas, and Montana. I also think nothing of driving to a distant suburb to meet friends for dinner. Usually I navigate these trips successfully . . . as long as I have a map or Garmin for GPS.

    Occasionally, though, I’ve gotten spectacularly lost. Driving 30 miles out my way near Green Bay, Wisconsin. Circling Eden Prairie, Minnesota for 40 minutes (and Eden Prairie isn’t that big). Hubris accounted for these mishaps. I thought I knew where I was going, so I didn’t bring a map.

    Back in the day, the only solution was to stop and ask for directions. I had to hope the person was reliable and not a knucklehead who’d send me the wrong way, because he forgot to mention three important turns.

    If there’s no cell phone signal (rural Montana and Wisconsin come to mind), I can be just as lost as in the old days. Google maps and GPS have definitely reduced the likelihood that I’ll get lost during a road trip, but sometimes they are wrong or incomplete. Just in case, I still carry a paper map and keep my cell phone charged up.

    How about you? What difficult situation has become a thing of the past because of your electronic devices?

  • Naming Rights

    Naming Rights

    The ring I wear on my left hand honors my marriage. My maiden name—the name I’ve had all of my life—honors who I am as an individual.

    J&E1985bWhen I married 30 years ago, this was an important and controversial distinction. Like many people, my parents worried that I would offend my in-laws and that our future children would encounter problems because my husband and I have two different last names.

    Nonetheless, we felt strongly about this decision. He’d keep his name and I’d keep mine. For practical reasons, we didn’t choose to hyphenate. Shriner-Sakowski is just too much name!

    Without meaning to, I did offend my in-laws, but they came to accept our decision. Our sons tell me that my different last name hasn’t been an issue for them. Perhaps some of their teachers or coaches assumed that my husband and I were divorced, but divorce is so commonplace that no one commented. I chose not to be offended when people called me Mrs. Sakowski. I knew who they meant and that they were trying to be polite. Often I pre-empted the discussion about names by introducing myself as “Greg’s Mom” or “Mike’s Mom.” That was all the teacher or coach wanted to know—my relationship to the kid in question. These days, I rarely have to explain the name difference.

    So it came as a surprise that using a maiden name has been resurrected as an issue. Recently, a friend recounted a conversation she overheard at a coffee shop. A young couple was talking with their minister about their wedding ceremony and the minister said, “Some ultra feminists don’t even take their husband’s last names.” Huh? I can easily list half a dozen women I know who kept their maiden names. It’s not that radical.

    Equally surprising was my recent experience with two different lawyers (one was settling my aunt’s estate and the other was handling my mother’s estate). Each assumed that I was Ellen Sakowski or Ellen Shriner-Sakowski. With my aunt’s lawyer, I explained several times that my real legal name is Ellen Shriner. Finally, I had to state unequivocally that I had never changed my name, and I wouldn’t be able to cash an inheritance check made out to either of those imaginary women.

    But then I recalled that four young professional women I know who’ve recently married all took their husband’s names. I was surprised and remain curious. Is the gesture that was so important to me when I married irrelevant now? Does it no longer feel necessary to make that distinction? Are women’s independence and equality a given for those young women? I hope so, but I’m skeptical.

    Despite my skepticism, I’m not trying to take anything away from women who choose their husband’s name. As a feminist, I believe women have the right to handle their names however they like: keeping their maiden names, using their maiden name as a middle name, or taking their husband’s name. I would never prescribe what a woman should call herself. Naming is a very personal decision.

    I think of one friend who was glad to shed her father’s name when she married. They had a difficult relationship and taking her husband’s name was a way of distancing herself from her father and asserting her new grown-up identity. Changing her name was a mark of independence.

    Another friend, who survived a childhood fraught with sexual abuse, invented a whole new name to mark the break from her family and her hard-won emotional health.

    What really matters is whether the choice of name is based purely on personal preference rather than perceived societal expectations. As a feminist, I just hope that women today feel much more free to choose the name that pleases them than I felt 30 years ago.

  • Trying Hard to Embrace Winter (even though I hate being cold)

    Trying Hard to Embrace Winter (even though I hate being cold)

    Although this week is a blessed reprieve, winter came WAY too early to Minnesota. This year, we had high temps in the mid-20s on Veteran’s Day and by mid-month we had single digit lows. And snow. Jeesh.

    This unwelcome weather called for drastic rethinking of my usual approach: gritting my teeth, hunching my shoulders against the cold, and waiting for it to be over. Instead, I’m trying to embrace winter and focus on what I do like. So here goes—

    Drinking hot tea – Holding a hot mug full of tea warms you up. Drinking it warms you up even more. I don’t see much of my favorite mugs during summer, so it’s a treat to pull them out. I stash the peppermint and green tea with blueberry (good as iced tea) in favor of Celestial Seasonings Candy Cane Lane and Gingerbread Spice—teas that are sold only in winter.

    Eating homemade soup and stew – Stew is such an ugly word for the wonder that is Guinness stew (tender chunks of beef braised for hours in a rich beer and onion gravy served over champ – an Irish version of mashed potatoes made with green onions) or Hungarian goulash – not the hamburger hotdish, but beef simmered with spicy paprika and onions. Chicken mole chilé – spicy with a hint of cocoa – the taste is rich with nothing sweet about it. Tortellini soup with chunks of carrots, zucchini, and Italian sausage. Mmmmm.

    Spitzbuben are sandwich cookies made with ground pecans, butter, flour and sugar. Raspberry jam holds them together. Don't tell my husband there's one missing! Quality control.
    Spitzbuben are sandwich cookies made with ground pecans, butter, flour and sugar. Raspberry jam holds them together. Don’t tell my husband there’s one missing! Quality control.

    Baking Christmas cookies – Maybe I should really say eating Christmas cookies since that’s mostly what I do. My husband is a whirling baking dervish who makes dozens of breads, spitzbuben, chocolate cherry espresso drops, spicy peanut butter cookies dipped in chocolate, and almond bars, while all I usually manage to make is a batch of ginger cookies and frosted sugar cookies.

    Watching TV shows while I exercise (re: cookies) – While I log miles on the treadmill, I catch up on the TV shows I never watch from April through October. I love going to the movie theater to see the year’s best movies. Plus, Mad Men and Downton Abbey resume in January (geeky fun – I can’t wait!)

    Wearing Smartwool sox – OMG are they expensive, but they work. My feet are warm and dry. So worth it. So are silk long johns, a puffy down coat, shearling boots, mittens, and earmuffs. Yes, I’m aware that by New York standards I’m one big walking Fashion Don’t. And I get tired of putting on all of that, but I hate being cold even more, so look out for the hot pink parka headed your way – that’s me.

    lightsSeeing Christmas lights, moonlight on snow, sundogs on January mornings – Yes, I hate that it’s full dark at 5:00 p.m. in December, but there’s something so fanciful about Christmas lights—they help tamp down the gloom. To me, it’s magical when the moon reflects off the snow and casts blue shadows—so occasionally I’m willing to don all of the gear described above so I can walk on a quiet winter’s night. Blue shadowsSundogs (flame-shaped rainbows that flank the rising sun like parentheses) appear only in the dead of winter when it’s really cold—a small compensation for being up early when it’s minus 20.

    I haven’t completely lost my mind. I still hate tear-your-face-off winds, shoveling snow, icy sidewalks, slushy streets, sooty snow clumps chunking off my car and hulking in the garage. And no, I’m not a skiing, skating, snowmobiling, ice fishing nut. But winter does have its rewards and if I’m going to win this battle against Mother Nature, I have to outwit her. Starting now. With Irish coffee – the kind with Bushmills and whipped cream.

    How do YOU cope with winter?