My former governor, Christie Whitman of New Jersey, centrist Republican, laments the loss of Arlen Specter and says:

In the coming election cycle, we have the opportunity to remind the nation that our party is committed to such important values as fiscal restraint, less government interference in our everyday lives, environmental policies that promote a balanced approach between protection and economic interest, and a foreign policy that is engaged with the rest of the world.

Huh? What Republican party is she talking about? The one whose president and members of Congress supported unnecessary tax cuts, government expansion, wiretapping without a warrant, decimating the environment, and saying fuck you to the rest of the world? File under wishful thinking.

Despite what I said, I opened a Twitter account last week. It was an impulsive decision — I thought it could help me be more social by giving me a quick way to tell people that I was up for going out and doing something on the weekend. Or I could use it in some sort of quasi-Dodgeball way to find nearby friends if I’m out and about.

I still haven’t written a Twitter post, but the account is there.

The problem is, I like to have all my web thoughts in one place. There must be apps that let you cross-post to WordPress, Facebook and Twitter. Or maybe I could set up a sidebar on the blog that will display Facebook/Twitter posts? Anyone know if that’s possible?

One more thing about our vacation: this was our first extended trip since I got my iPhone, and that little device was my BEST fricking FRIEND. In my pocket I had a camera, a map, a GPS device, an email checker, a web browser, a telephone, a music player, a weather reporter, an alarm clock, and a game player. This thing is the coolest device EVER.

Of course, Matt is going to disagree with me as soon as he gets the new Palm Pre, whenever that may be.

We got back from New Mexico on Tuesday night. Our trip wasn’t nearly long enough; from the time we landed to the time we took off again, we were in the state for less than 72 hours. But it was more rejuvenating and enlightening than a weeklong vacation at home. The best trips are those that lift you up out of your life and place you back in it slightly askew. That’s how I feel after New Mexico.

I have an overwhelming impression of blue — the beautiful deep blue sky overhead almost the entire time.

This wasn’t so much a sightseeing trip. As I mentioned last week, the reason for the trip was a memorial service for Matt’s grandparents. Matt’s grandfather passed away in 2007 and his grandmother last fall. They lived most of their lives in New Mexico, and Matt’s parents both grew up there. I got to meet Matt’s extended family — people I’d heard about for a long time but had never met. Cousins who live in New Mexico and Oklahoma.

Saturday night was a get-together at a cousin’s house in Albuquerque; Sunday was a trip to Old Town Albuquerque, followed by a drive to see the house where Matt’s grandparents lived for many years; at night there was a gathering in a private area of a Mexican restaurant, and then a bunch of us went to Sonic for ice cream.

I’d never been to a Sonic before.

On Monday morning we had the memorial service, and then we all drove up to Santa Fe for a short service at the Santa Fe National Cemetery, where Matt’s grandparents were to be interred. (His grandfather was a WWII vet.) If you’ve ever been to Arlington National Cemetery, it looks similar — endless rows of gravemarkers of identical height, except there are desert mountains in the distance. It was beautiful. We gathered in a small pavilion where two soldiers formed an honor guard on either side of the urns; taps was played; the soldiers unfolded and then folded an American flag and presented it to Matt’s mother and aunt. After 45 minutes, we were able to visit the actual interment site — a long marble wall of rectangular markers.

Afterwards, we drove to the Santa Fe Plaza where we walked around and window-shopped for an hour or so, and then we all went out to dinner at — of all places — Denny’s.

I’d never been to a Denny’s before.

After dinner, we drove back to Albuquerque and all hung out at the hotel pool for a while; then it was time for bed. We woke up early on Tuesday morning and flew home.

The first leg of the trip home was from Albuquerque to Minneapolis, and during the last 15 minutes we had awful turbulence. It ranks among my worst turbulence experiences ever. A guy across the aisle from us actually used his barf bag — I’d never seen that happen before. And we were in the last row of the plane, so when we finally landed it took forever to get off that metal tube of death. We got off the plane at 12:20 and our next flight was scheduled to take off at 1:05, and I had zero desire to get on another plane right away. Fortunately, our second flight wound up being delayed for an hour — and on that second flight, we had bulkhead seats, in the front row of coach, with about 12-15 inches of extra legroom in front of us. It was awesome, and the flight was mostly smooth. Thank god.

Again, it was a great trip, and I only wish it had been longer. Someday we’ll have to go back, spend several days there, and do some sightseeing.

Boy, it sucks to be back.

Hillary Clinton rocks. There are a couple different levels of subtext going on in this clip between the Secretary of State and Congressman Mike “like a normal outdoor market in Indiana in the summertime” Pence, but we can see here why she almost became president.

In front of the Larry Craig restroom

When we fly to New Mexico on Saturday, and again when we fly back on Tuesday, we’ll have a short layover at the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport. That’s the home of the Larry Craig bathroom stall.

I have to take pictures.

I’ve done some research and found out where it is. Basically, it looks like we just have to go to the main mall area and look for the big Snoopy statue and the Royal Zeno. Here are some helpful links I found.

* description of the location

* airport mall map

* Flickr photos

* video:

Here are a couple of parodies of that National Organization for [Hetero] Marriage ad. The first one’s great. The second one is funny but… weird.

Via Kottke, here are some vintage DHARMA Initiative ads from the 1970s, and here’s a trailer for an upcoming movie that looks pretty cool.

Makes me think of this.

Since I’m easily susceptible to guilt, religious food restrictions bring up complicated issues for me.

We’re in the middle of Passover right now. For some reason I’ve been more conscious about the holiday this year. I’ve been trying harder to observe the dietary laws of Passover than in the recent past.

When I was a kid, it was easy — I had no choice. My mom made my lunch every day, and I’d open up my lunchbox or brown paper bag at school to find tunafish on matzoh, or peanut butter and jelly on maztoh, or something similarly depressing. I couldn’t wait to get through the holiday so I could eat regular bread again. Even when I was a teenager and started to make my own lunch, I obeyed, because I was living under my parents’ roof.

When I got to college I mostly stopped observing. Then one year during law school I decided to observe for the whole eight days. Since that year I haven’t been particularly observant. I often start out intending to avoid forbidden foods, but I slip up because I like them too much. And once I slip up, I decide, well, since I’ve broken the laws of Passover, there’s no point in continuing.

But this year I’ve been paying more attention to it. I’ve slipped up a few times, but I’m still continuing to try.

Why? After all, I don’t believe in God. I didn’t affirmatively choose not to believe; it’s just that I realized one day that it makes no sense to me that there would be a God. But religious belief is not the only thing that binds Jews together. To me, my Judaism is a connection to my heritage, to my culture, to the great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents whom I never knew, to the distant relatives who died in the Holocaust.

But since I don’t think I’m going to suffer spiritual punishment if I disobey the dietary laws, it’s hard to get myself to stick to them.

One thing that makes the traditional observance of Passover so difficult is that the prohibition goes beyond leavened bread: corn, rice, and beans or other legumes are also forbidden. Since you can’t eat corn, nothing containing corn starch or high fructose corn syrup is allowed, either. I’ve often wondered why this was the case, so yesterday I googled why can’t you eat rice on passover and found the answer: it’s because several hundred years ago, rabbis decreed that these things could be confused with leavened bread, so we should avoid them. It’s not biblical — it’s just traditional. That’s how you get from Exodus to not being able to drink regular Coke.

(My friend Dan blogged about this last week, but I guess I had a brain fart and forgot.)

This is silly — how can you possibly confuse HFCS with leavened bread? But we Jews like to suffer, so apparently anything that adds more annoyance to our daily life is good as long as it makes us think about God. And in an economy where it’s nearly impossible to avoid food products containing HFCS, the opportunties for suffering abound. The whole point of the holiday — celebrating the escape from slavery — is lost, because we’re too busy avoiding certain foods. Of course, it also increases the number of opportunities to be reminded that it’s Passover, which I guess is a good thing, but it makes for a not very fun occasion. So I’ve given myself permission to eat rice and corn, although I still tell myself it’s wrong.

My own Jewish dietary rules have no rhyme or reason to them. Much of it comes from upbringing. For instance, even though pig isn’t kosher and you’re not supposed to mix meat and dairy, I’m okay with eating bacon cheeseburgers, because my parents eat them occasionally. I’m generally okay with eating sausage if I’m out at brunch somewhere. We never ate bacon or sausage at home growing up, but we sometimes ate them at restaurants. As for pork and ham — we never ate those, at home or elsewhere. I still feel uncomfortable eating pork, and I feel exceptionally uncomfortable eating ham. I ate ham for the first time a few years ago, and that’s only because they were out of sliced turkey at the grocery store and I was curious. It tasted good but I haven’t had it since.

Matt can’t make any sense of my reasons, and neither can I. Why are bacon or sausage okay but not pork or ham? And why is ham worse than pork? Because these are the same rules my parents seemed to follow when I was growing up. It makes no sense, but it’s how I was raised.

Tradition!

We’re flying to New Mexico this weekend, arriving Saturday and coming back Tuesday. It’s been on the calendar for weeks — we’re going out there for a belated memorial service for Matt’s grandparents, who lived in Albuquerque and both passed away in the last couple of years. Matt’s parents and brothers and other relatives are flying out there as well, so it will a big family weekend. We’ll be spending time in Albuquerque and Santa Fe.

Despite the solemn reason for the trip, I’m excited about going to New Mexico. I’ve never been there, and I love adding another state to my list of places visited. I don’t think I’ve been outside of New York or New Jersey since late 2007, unless I’m totally forgetting about something. So we’re loooong overdue for a trip.

I’m psyched.

We live in the area south of Columbia University. I just got back from a long walk and was reminded that we have so many food markets in my neighborhood. Within a five-block radius there’s a D’Agostino (a NYC chain supermarket), a Westside Market, and a Garden of Eden, as well as a twice-a-week sidewalk farmer’s market, a Japanese food store I’ve never walked into, an Italian market, and probably other stuff I’m forgetting. I went into the Westside Market yesterday for the first time — it’s just a few blocks away, we’ve lived in our apartment for almost a year, and I just walked into there yesterday for the first time! — and their produce section had every sort of produce imaginable. Tons of green things, tons of other things that didn’t look familiar. They also had a full aisle containing nothing but different kinds of cheese.

I hate the fact that I rarely take advantage of any of this. All these great opportunities to expand our food palates and we never do it. My parents got us a food processor for Hanukkah that I still haven’t used, and there’s a housewares shop a few blocks away that sells almost any kind of cookware or bakeware you could need. And we eat the same old stuff — which we usually order in.

I like cooking and baking, but I rarely do it. It requires time and effort and it costs money to buy ingredients (like it doesn’t cost money to order in?) and I’m kind of scared that I’ll do it wrong. On the other hand, cooking and baking is very therapeutic, because you’re engaging in tasks that require your attention, and you’re making something new.

I really should take a boring Saturday or Sunday afternoon and make a new dish. I should try to buy a new ingredient every weekend and make something with it. I live in practically the center of the universe with every food I need at my fingertips — there’s this world of exciting opportunities out there and I never take advantage of them! I hate when I let things like that slip by. That has to change.

I love the name of this TV movie.

If anyone was curious about our apartment decision — we decided to renew our lease. It wound up being the best, easiest option. So yay.