By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Jun 28, 2013 at 9:15 AM ET Sometimes, Sigmund Freud, was quoted as saying, “A cigar is just a cigar.”
And if Siggie were alive today he’d probably offer a corollary that “Sometimes same sex marriage is just same sex marriage.”
I don’t want to get all controversial about this….but this DOMA decision by the SCt has me worried.
No, not worried so much about the threat to the institution of marriage between a man and a woman caused by same-sex couples wanting to marry. We heteros have already done a fine job of that ourselves and can’t–with a straight face, so to speak–even try to blame same sex couples for piling on.
Frankly, I don’t think same sex couples care a great deal about what we heterosexuals do in our personal lives. It’s not all that interesting, I admit. But I kind of like knowing that gays are analyzing our sex life every chance they get. And lucky them! That allows gay people time to think about other things—like decorating and dressing nice. They sure got us on those two fronts.
I’d even go so far as to say we heteros could probably learn a thing or two about not always talking and thinking about gay sex and gays marrying. Maybe it does scare some of us. But I suspect anybody who talks all the time about how bad gay sex is, is talking about gay sex because, well, he just likes talking about the topic…. and it gives him a sort of cheap thrill he doesn’t get by talking about heterosexual sex.
And that’s fine. I’m not judging them. I’m really not.
Heck, when I was in elementary school I acted that way myself. At recess I’d chase girls pretending they were gross and I didn’t want to have anything to do with them. But even though I swore I was trying to avoid gettin’ the cooties, there I’d go chasing after these very girls who we thought had cooties and trying to touch, pinch or push them anyway I could. And it wasn’t a coincidence that I’d always chase and push the ones I wanted the most to like me back.
It didn’t really work out well for me. And wont for politicians talking about animal marriage this time. But on that playground I did get a little thrill out of it all and suspect these older fellers talking about gay-this and gay-that get some kinky thrill in their own way, too, when they are chasing and pushing around gay people in the political playground. I could be wrong. But I know what it looks like when someone says they don’t want girl cooties and then can’t stop chasing and talking about girls.
Read the rest of…
John Y. Brown, III: The DOMA Decision
By Nancy Slotnick, on Tue Jun 25, 2013 at 8:30 AM ET I was watching Lena Dunham on Charlie Rose the other day and despite the fact that
I’m not loving her new haircut and the second season of Girls is proving to be overly ambitious, I was inspired. And I shouldn’t be so hard on her. It would be almost impossible not to choke under the pressure that she is facing at such a young age.
Emphasis on the almost impossible. Which brings me to the part of the interview that was so inspiring.
When asked about how she accomplished such a meteoric rise, Lena quoted her Dad as saying, “Love the possible.” That stuck with me. Especially because I am trying to make that kind of meteoric rise happen in my life. So I am embracing that idea. My new year’s resolution is, as I have told you previously, (see my blog that quotes Will Smith’s new movie) to be fearless.
 When you are fearless, anything is possible. Or is it? I embarked on a quest to see what is possible and what is in store for me, on a Tuesday morning recently. I was hoping that a store front is in store for me. I was contemplating the fact that anything is possible if you believe that you can achieve it. How do you draw that line? Is it possible that I could go to one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city and procure a retail space by the end of the day without more than a stick of gum, $20 and a Metrocard in my pocket?
Well, let’s see what the universe said. I was able to procure a grilled cheese. And it was good. And then, as I was strolling around, following the path of whatever the universe sent me, I passed by an art gallery with a grafitti-esque painted canvas. It read:
“Enough is possible.” Thank you, universe, I have my answer!
Read the rest of…
Nancy Slotnick: Love the Possible
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Jun 19, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET  Socrates admonished “Know thyself.”
That’s tough–especially if you are a shallow person who is more interested in getting to know the popular person sitting in front of you rather than your inner self.
But an even more elusive conundrum than knowing who “we” are is knowing who “they” are.
You know who I am talking about: the extremely quotable and seemingly irrefutable “they”— as in “You know what ‘they’ say.”
Which has been a perennial problem. Everyone seems to know “what” it is that “they” say but NOT who “they” are.
Not anymore.
One of the serendipitous outcomes of the recent NSA scandal is out nation’s cutting edge technology tools has identified a group of six friends in Newark, N.J. who appear to comprise the mysterious and powerful group who seem to have something wise and influential to say about almost everything.
Here is a close up from a secret aerial shot just last week as the group was leaving a MENSA meeting and about to, ironically, opine on the NSA controversy –while also reminiscing about the groups most famous commentary: why we should never “assume” anything because, “You know what they say. It makes an a**….”, well, you remember.
Reaction to identifying the small but internationally revered group has ranged from relief to self-reflection.
 One news reporter for a local station said, “That’s “they?” Adding “I see them roller-blading together all the time in the park near my station. They are terrible roller-bladders and can sometimes be really obnoxious. The one one the right has body odor.”
A local mother who often quotes they to her two teenage children spoke for many when she reflected, “I have to admit, they don’t look that impressive close up.”
And then added, “I am going to start thinking for myself more in the future. I don’t trust them–I mean “they” –as much as I used to.”
By Lisa Miller, on Wed Jun 19, 2013 at 8:30 AM ET  In the workshops and retreats I lead, a definition of health is always part of the conversation of the day. I feel this is essential because we have such limited time on earth to enjoy being in a human body, to experience love, to revel in nature. The healthier we are the more opportunities we have for these things to be possible over the course of the mere decades we get to have.
Often, in asking students the question, “What role does beauty play in your definition of health?” they think I’m asking about human physical beauty. I do understand the confusion since vitality can be clearly visible in one’s countenance.
But what I’m really asking about refers to the experiential and how much personal time is spent engaged with art, music, literature, nature, spirituality, or other meaningful things one would classify as beautiful.
Oftentimes, we don’t realize that a complete definition of health includes the integration of beauty into our lives, but it does, in a big way. Beauty fills a giant space in the core of human beingness.
On the flip side, as we age and tend to spend more and more time thinking about what’s wrong and worrisome, we further reinforce what’s broken. But how to fix and solve those problems comes only partly from the itemized solutions and goals we think up. The rest actually comes from allowing ourselves regularly scheduled time to just be with something profoundly bigger than our problems—with something beautiful that stirs both heart and soul.
 Though spending time in “beauty” might not provide the specific solutions we desperately need for problem x, it absolutely creates the fertile ground from which creative solutions can be born. It creates perspective, it soothes, it reminds us that we are not here merely to struggle. Beauty reinforces hope.
Given the choice, why not go there? “There” is anything that does it for you.
For me, the natural world satisfies a lot of this definition involving beauty. I am mentally and viscerally
enthralled by the relationship between sky and ocean, and the constant fleeting change between them.
I took photos of this magnificent show last week over the course of 90 minutes, from about 7:15pm to 8:30pm as I hung out in the calm Gulf water and then from my chair in the sand. So moved and awed by these gorgeous natural elements, I actually sang, out loud (don’t worry, no animals nor marine life were harmed in any way).
However, what I feel is profoundly beautiful, and what you feel is beautiful, probably differ. What is it for you? The important thing is to know in one’s heart what that is. Conscious awareness is essential here in order to participate in the experience when it shows up.
While I love the ocean, I spend most of my time in Kentucky, which I also love. I’m enthralled here too, from my front porch.
 I took this photo yesterday while observing my doggie, Apple, as she watched a family of robins hop around the front lawn in the rain.
I was acutely aware of everything good about this rainy day, the smell of the warm damp air, the sound of water, the flowers and happy birds everywhere.
It took just 10 minutes on the porch for my bad mood to be soothed after paying medical bills all morning.
I would definitely classify this experience as a beautiful one—I love a rainy morning in the summer, but it was Apple’s calm, sweetly quiet observing that made my heart melt in the midst of it. And all at once I felt a revelation about the simplicity of beauty in beingness. What matters most can be so routine and so right in front of us all the time that all it takes is some stillness and some noticing.
 I’ve lived in my house for 16 years, and I work from home for the most part, I can’t remember the last time I made the conscious decision to sit out on the front porch with Apple during a rain shower.
So now I know. These occasions add up; they make a difference in the overall quality of a life lived. Near the end, I want to say that I lived a beautiful life. So I intend it now—I’m seeking it and living it—trying to make enough time for the nourishment of beauty in my definition of health today.
It must be working; I feel pretty good these days too.
I do plan to work on my singing voice now.
By Nancy Slotnick, on Tue Jun 18, 2013 at 8:30 AM ET  I love girls.
I love girls. Ok, I should really say I love Girls, the new HBO show, but the previous sentence was my feeble attempt to capture the attention of my male readership. Anyway, the show is awesome. The guy’s line “I want you to know, the first time I f*ck you, I might scare you a little, because I’m a man, and I know how to do things,” makes Marni need to masturbate before she even makes it back to her apartment. This is alpha male behavior. Does it exist outside of cable television? Can it be taken seriously or are players, pick up artists and sketch comedians the only guys who really talk this way?
Women want a contradiction in terms, and Lena Dunham does a fantastic job of pointing this out. We want men to take us by storm. We tell ourselves “If he really wanted to meet me, he would come over and talk to me.” But yet when they do take charge, we don’t want to be bossed around. Our girlfriends shame us if we cancel plans because we have a date, as if a whipped boyfriend is the only kind of boyfriend that is acceptable. Maybe they’re just jealous?
I’ve been a dating coach for the last decade, and every girl I meet wants to nab the bad boy who is also a good guy: a husband/father candidate who is an Alpha male in the bedroom. Because I found one for me, I’m in a pretty good position to help in this regard. But the first rule of being married to an Alpha male is very similar to the first rule of Fight Club. In case you haven’t seen it- the rule is you do not speak of it- but I shouldn’t even tell you this because if you want to date an Alpha male you should see Fight Club. And commit not to cringe. Then see it again and watch it as a relationship movie- fascinating on a whole nother level. But I digress.
Read the rest of…
Nancy Slotnick: I Love Girls
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Jun 17, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET I have received three flirty messages from three different fake FB profiles pretending to be a young woman eager to exchange private emails with me.
I finally responded to the last one just now.
“Thanks for your message.
However, another woman sent me an almost identical flirty message yesterday and we got married this afternoon.
And it’s really going well. To top it all off (and no offense) but she is a lot hotter than you are.
Here name is Rebecca Brown and we have “married” now as our Facebook relationship status
Good luck with finding romance. Or amusing yourself pretending to be a young woman. Which is, frankly, a turn off to most women your age and not the most well thought out romance strategy.
But you never know…you just might stumble onto an interaction that will change your life forever doing just what you are doing now. It could happen.
Keep the faith. And keep putting yourself out there until something better than rejections like this one from me start to happen for you.
There’s more than one fish in the sea. And more than one profile to fake private message on Facebook. Somewhere out there there on FB tonight there is a soulmate for you who as we message is writing a really funny trolling message under a fake name and profile just like you. And you two are destined to meet someday and fall in love. Someone who “gets you” and will love you just the way you are. And that is no laughing matter.
By Jeff Smith, on Mon Jun 17, 2013 at 10:00 AM ET  Q: I recently listened to your interview on NPR and applaud you for your comeback after spending time in a federal institution. I was on my way back to academia when I was arrested while being a practicing psychologist for two counts of fraud. I got 21 months. I have no criminal record prior to this and am very concerned about my future beyond incarceration. Any thoughts? Right now I am still in the numb/ embarrassment stage.
—R.V., A City in Calif.
I actually have a chapter in a new book about recovering from crisis. I think the key is to repair and reinvent yourself in a way that stays true to the best of who you are. For instance, if you lose your professional license, could you still offer counseling at a halfway house after you complete your sentence? Or perhaps at a shelter for the homeless or victims of domestic violence?Something that will be therapeutic for you and helpful for others. For me that’s taken many forms, from teaching about the legislative process and addressing elected officials about ethical dilemmas to advocating for educational opportunities inside prison.
I won’t lie to you: Prison sucks. But it forced me to pause and reflect and thus gave me an advantage over the Sanfords and Weiners on the road to recovery. It can do that for you, but you must constantly remind yourself that failure is not falling down but staying down.
(And if you’re interested in the book, co-authored by a dozen elected officials who each faced crises and came back strong, it’s called The Recovering Politician’s Twelve Step Program to Survive Crisis, and it’s available on Amazon.)
Q: I want to run campaigns, but getting a job as a manager is quite difficult. Candidates have two main problems: They often seem to think that they do not need to be managed, and when they do, they do not want to spend money for a salary. Of course, it is full-time work that is simply too much to ask of a volunteer. I have spent a lot of time on campaigns in general, and last year in particular. Consequently, I have taken the position that I will not do any more free work for politicians—I’ve seen that it usually does not pay off. I do not like sitting on the sidelines. Do you have any ideas?
—C.B., New York CityI totally agree with the paradox you reference regarding candidates and campaign managers. As I’ve said before, candidates who try to run their own campaigns have a fool for a manager.
I think you should broaden your search and consider working for an issue campaign instead. There are lots of benefits to that; for instance: (1) no lying awake at night wondering if your candidate will make a campaign-ending faux pas; (2) no screaming candidate calling your cell at 2 a.m. to berate you about a typo in an email you did not write; (3) no frantic middle-of-the-night calls to bail the candidate’s son out of jail.
Most important, when you work for an issue campaign, you don’t have to worry if the candidate will actually follow through on the campaign pledge that motivated you to work on his behalf, because an issue never lies. And you don’t have to worry that your candidate’s efforts to follow through will be scuttled by her evil colleagues in the legislature, or wherever. So if you win an issue campaign, you really do win.
Read the rest of…
Jeff Smith: Do As I Say — A Political Advice Column
By John Y. Brown III, on Sun Jun 16, 2013 at 12:39 PM ET Here’s to father’s who kick a** and take names — every day, as dads. Here’s to fathers who are men’s men and the modern version of Father Knows Best but who also have a metrosexual side when they need it.
Who make boatloads of money but still have time to go door-to -door with their daughters to help sell Girl Scout cookies and coach their son’s soccer team and make dinner for their wife’s scrapbooking club the second Tuesday of every month.
Here’s to the fathers who are as loving as they are strong and never complain or ask for praise but just keep on being a grown-up –and daily–version of Prince Charming, Assuming Prince Charming is middle-aged and moved to suburbia and worked his way up to partner at a medium-sized accounting firm. And teaches Sunday School and is trying to persuade his wife to take dance lessons together because it “sounds fun.”
Happy Big Daddy’s day to all those arse-kicken’ super pops!
And just a regular old Happy Father’s Day to other 99.997% of the reat of us dads out there. And just a reminder that the 0.003% making the rest of us look bad by comparison , are on the verge of a nervous break down and could crack any day now.
So hang in there. For us, today is more of a Happy ‘Lil Daddy’s Day. We’re pretty good dads, all things considered, but fall short of the exhausting ideal. And that’s OK. We kick a** in our own way and deep down we know they know that.
Just don’t hope for more than a tie today and a pleasant Lil Daddy Day card. And pat yourself on the back. And don’t mention they got you the exact same tie two years ago.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Jun 14, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET Parental competition.
When a 19 year old son is traveling abroad and the two parents are trying to keep up with what’s happening based on short cryptic texts from said 19 year old son, the information exchanges can be interesting–and a little competitive.
Rebecca: “Have you heard from Johnny today?”
Me: “Yes, he sent me a text giving me an update of how he’s doing. Sounds like he’s having a …really good time.”
(Truth of the matter is I received only an abbreviated text saying, “Someone mentioned one of the company’s you represent.” That was all I got…but I didn’t what my wife to know that.
Naturally, I read more into the text than was really there. But the day before my wife had received not one but two texts from my son. According to her, he advised her of a number of updates about him personally and the itinerary.
But now I’m suspicious. Maybe she only got a short semi-coherent text and is trying to read much more into it to impress me…..
Next time Rebecca asks if I’ve heard from Johnny, I am telling her, “Yes, just a short text that he likes me more than you.”
And then laugh!
By Liz Roach, on Fri Jun 14, 2013 at 10:00 AM ET  Note: I’m very excited to begin a food column for The Recovering Politician. From recipes to restaurant trends to chef interviews, this space will be devoted to all things gustatory. Check back regularly for updates!
Most people would not call my father a foodie. His diet revolves more around salmon and nuts than bahn mi or foie gras corn dogs.
Every morning, he pulses kale, spinach and other nutrient-packed ingredients into a murky green concoction he calls a smoothie. The potent quaff, which has yet to tempt my palate, appears to have a life of its own.
And yet, he has a point. A physician, he espouses the life-changing qualities of eating well at his busy medical practice and has had meaningful success with his patients.
But the example he sets is more than just about health. The biggest imprint his eating lifestyle has had on me is his dedication to and appreciation of good, quality food.
Growing up, I watched in wonderment as he skinned freshly caught fish in the backyard, slicking the scales off with a look of great intensity.
 I would scrutinize with the closest attention the reddening orbs sprouting in the strawberry patch he had planted near my play area. The towering asparagus edging the fence appeared to me like a jungle, but one I knew better than to explore.
Today, cucumbers, peas and onions are ripening in his backyard forest of green, and the basil is ready to be freshly picked for his smoothies. If it’s a Saturday morning, you’ll find him culling pokeweed to sauté with bacon (really the only way to eat pokeweed, if you’ve ever tried it).
At this time of year, other dads may covet grilling tools, a well marbled steak, or an aged bottle of scotch. For my dad, those gifts would be met with a bewildered stare.
But. He has a weakness. I hate to share his secret so publicly, but every hero has his sweet spot.
 For my dad, that weakness is jelly thumbprint cookies. A specialty of my mother’s made only a few times per year, the cookies offer the perfect guilty pleasure. Gently sinking his teeth into a freshly baked, piping hot cookie lovingly imprinted by my mother’s own thumb, he needn’t say a word to express his bliss. The delicate sweetness of the treat is heightened by the velvety texture of the blackberry preserve topping.
This Father’s Day, you’ll find my dad savoring each bite of his cherished cookies, eyes closed. The memory will have to tide him over until Christmas, the next special occasion worthy of the splurge. But until then, he will relish this moment.
Luckily, you don’t have to wait as long as my dad to have a taste. I coaxed the recipe from my mother’s dog-eared treasure trove just so I could share it. You may just find that your father, or any other special man in your life, may enjoy it just as much.
If you want to get creative, use the cookies as a canvas for a variety of fillings, from jams to honey to Nutella.
Or if you’re short on baking time, I’ve included a few other ideas that will satisfy any man’s appetite:
For the Cook: The Lee Bros. Charleston Cookbook by Matt Lee & Ted Lee
Reflective of a modern but simple Southern sensibility, the Lee brothers share delectable fixings such as smothered pork chops and kumquat gin cocktails.
For the Cultured Connoisseur: Elmer T. Lee Single Barrel
If your father is an enthusiast of distilled beverages, give him a snifter of this fine bourbon poured neat for an after-dinner indulgence.
For the Meat Eater: Charcuterie from Olympic Provisions
A mouth-watering array of cured meats such as capicola, finocchiona and even saucisson au chocolat are available by mail-order from this salumiera based in Portland, Oregon.
For the Gardener: Heirloom Seeds from Southern Exposure Food Exchange
From butterbeans to collards, Ira Wallace’s seed collection spans an impressive range of vegetables, herbs, and flowers, with more than 700 varieties.
For the Red Wine Lover: Wild Horse 2010 Cabernet Sauvignon Central Coast
For a classic California wine that doesn’t break the bank, Wild Horse provides a fruity, medium-bodied flavor that pairs well with steak.
Dee Dee’s Jelly Thumbprint Cookies
Ingredients
1 cup butter softened
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 egg yolk
2 2/3 cup flour
Directions:
- Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.
- Beat butter in bowl until creamy.
- Add sugar; mix until light and fluffy. Add egg yolks and vanilla; mix well. Add flour gradually, mixing just until moistened.
- Shape by tablespoonfuls into balls. Place on greased cookie sheets. Make indentation in each cookie with thumb.
- Bake at 350 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown.
- After removing from oven, place cookies on drying rack for cooling.
- Once they have cooled, cookies may be filled with homemade jam or jelly.
Note: My dad prefers Blackberry preserves, but there are a variety of tasty fillings you can use. My favorite is a vanilla-orange flavoring. Here’s how you make it: In a medium saucepan, melt 1/3 cup of butter, add 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract and 6 tablespoons of fresh-squeezed orange juice. Whisk until smooth. Gradually whisk ½ cup of powdered sugar into the liquid. Then spoon the frosting onto each cookie.
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