My Memory Has Just Been Sold

When I was little and at a family gathering, if there was going to be a photo taken of all the kids, it was a thing.  Some adult got us all gathered together like monkeys and formed us in some order, usually on steps or with a chosen pretty background. 

I'm not in this pic but my sis Rach  (3rd row from bottom left) and Terry (top middle) made it. So many funny things about this picture that I could share.  Two is that I wore the shirt that my cousin Debbie has on as hand me downs years later.  And that there must have been a thing about sailors back then because I had many of those types of shirts that I see in this pic worn by my sis and cousin Eva. 

We were given instructions, when to smile, look alert. Usually two were taken so you had a chance to fix your screwed up expression or hair or everyone would be disappointed two weeks later when you got the pictures back.  Actually Polaroids were the big thing in this particular era. And then we dispersed and it was over.  No one would follow us around or take candid shots.  We were free from most eyes. Our playtime was undocumented and not monitored.   That left our imaginations room to blossom and go crazy.  I was fully aware of what I now know as my freedom back then.  I was in my own world, completely open to anything I could think or do and more importantly, completely alone.

                                      
Now, I see all these babies, photographed and filmed throughout their entire growth period, toddlers into tweens and beyond.  As if they learn that phone is just an extension of their mother or parent looking through at them.  As a matter of fact, they actually look at the camera or phone eye adoringly, as if it is alive from pretty early on.  By 2 they're already performing in a way.  They know they gotta put it on for momma so to speak.  The camera likes happy, smiles, and cute action!

I worry this is not a good trend. When it's the only thing you know, then it's probably not unusual for the child but to me its as though the parents are unintentionally stripping a right from the kids very early on.  These kids have that God given right to their privacy, not to be photographed or filmed and then shared with the world or other family members.  I mean, those memories belong to us as individuals, not the makers of Instagram. The other problem is that pictures and videos can be revealing at times and the world sees those things that perhaps they shouldn't be allowed to if we are truly protecting those kids.  This is not an issue in one or two photos during life events, when the kids are posing and are consenting in a way.  But on a daily basis and on every occasion, I feel it's changing trust and those beautiful exchanges you can have with your mom for example as a child.  The moment you realize how much she loves you in that glance that you share.  If that is replaced with the camera, does it have the same effect?

I may be overthinking this but I think we should respect children's rights and limit our filming and pictures.  Or at the least the sharing of them all.

I used my imagination to make this quick-style curry chicken with potatoes, chick peas and tomatoes.  P bought one of those hundred dollar free-range whole roasted chickens from Greene Grape, so I stripped the leftover meat into cubes the second day.  To add lots of flavor to the potatoes I boiled them in chicken stock, garlic and salt before adding them to the mix.  A lemon dressed leafy green salad with Feta on the side was a nice cool accompaniment.

One Thing for Sure, Love Stinks

Valentine's Day Enchilada Pork Chops

Love is one thing, romance is another.  Valentine's day in my head was always connected to the latter. Exaggerated, extravagant gestures. Storybook type affairs. Really pouring it on, as my mom would say.  I'd say unnecessary silliness.  I never bought into any of that fantasy-type adoration.  So Valentine's Day is a bit of a sneer for me.  I over think things though generally.  Couldn't it just be a day to give a little shout out to your loved one?  Sure.  And I could actually get with that.  If...But P is not romantic in any shape or form either. In fact, he winces a little when I lean in for a kiss or hug.  He likes me, more now than before, I think anyway.  But then why wouldn't he?  I'm a live-in maid and cook.  What's not to like?  I don't harass him because I don't bother people.

Actually, I think we're both just really surprised we could not only tolerate but truly enjoy another human for this many years, so we don't fool with it.  You live some years and learn some things.  As a matter of fact my humble opinion is love forming between partners is taught in the worst possible way ever to kids.  We're first people, without all these male or female characteristics.  Love is science and chemistry.  Love is also a muscle. Love has mass and exists. It's ugly and mean and messy.  The best coaching would have been to just tell us, no one understands it.  Unlike black holes, no one can figure this shit. Passion is more like happiness.  You can't be romantic, but there are moments when it's in the air like a mist.  Enchantment and fascination is sorcery at work and they all defy laws of logic. 

So, dinner.  With all the romance thrown in the food so its more palatable.  And he doesn't have to talk to me, which is my little gift to him. His favorite, my mom's enchilada sauce over a grilled pork chop on a bed of cool iceberg lettuce and onions. Topped with freshly made pico de gallo.  Confetti corn and black rice.