One of my favorite houses in Montclair always has an amazing garden growing. When we first moved here, I used to make the 3/4 mile walk with the kids to their preschool all the time, and we’d pass this house several times a week. I’ve become more suburban now, so we drive most times. However, we walked the other day and were treated to these gorgeous tulips. There were also some “pom pom” flowers – but the tulips were especially gorgeous colors. It definitely is May in Montclair.
This mural – and the Java Love logo – were created by Tracey Diamond, a local parent and designer.
Click on the photo for her site.
I love coffee. If I had to choose between wine and coffee, it’d had to be coffee. If I had to choose between chocolate and coffee, it’d be a tougher decision, but I think I’d still choose coffee. And lucky me was able to indulge in a coffee-lover’s dream evening at the VIP* event at Java Love, the newest place to fall in love with hot liquid joy all over again. Wow. That does not sound right.
Java Love, which is owned and operated by Jodie Dawson and Kristine Petrik, is a rustic spot to sip a cappuccino, ice brewed java, or a traditional cup of joe. The store, at 244 Bellevue Avenue in Montclair (next to Olive That! and just down from the Bellevue Cinema), also sells coffee beans and coffee accessories. I first got to know Java Love through a school fundraiser over the 2012 holidays. So good! I also noticed that Java Love coffee was served at The Montclair Bread, Co., another favorite spot in town. Now, Java Love is the place hosting different local products including The Chocolate Path, The Montclair Bread Co., Little Daisy Bakeshop, and Olive That!
At the VIP* event last week, we learned about Cupping Coffee, pea berries – the most valuable type of coffee bean, and Jodie (who is a trained sommelier) told us that coffee actually has far more nuance than wine. The coffee cupping exercise convinced me.
The cappuccino I had after the Cinderella screening at the Montclair Film Fest was excellent, and I have to admit that I think the iced coffee I tried at the VIP event was my favorite of the night. No milk, no sugar, just ice and coffee. Rich and full. Definitely stop in and check out the offerings at Java Love. As of today, they’re still getting details finalized – because they are really brand new! – so make sure to ask about prices and drinks if you don’t see them listed. I found the drink prices very reasonable, and the coffee was good to the very last sip.
If you stop in, let me know what you tried and what you thought!
*VIP: I have no idea why I’m considered a VIP. I think it might mean Voluptuous Internet Padawan, but who knows.
NJ Senators testify first. Photo: Julio Cortez via SFGate.com
I taught high school for over a decade, so I have some experience with name-calling and attempts at intimidation. It doesn’t work very well, and it’s rarely effective at helping to get a point across. Also, I have to say, other than spelling “whore” correctly on occasion, the gun lobby supporters are not very impressive with their insults.
On Tuesday, while waiting three hours for the Law and Public Safety committee of the New Jersey Senate to begin hearing testimony on 14 gun violence prevention bills, the very patient friend I brought along and I made some friends and had some interesting discussions with people around us — none of which included gun laws. After testifying, however (which came after waiting another three hours to be called), those cordial faces were quite nasty.
“That was racist!” said two men, almost in unison, as I walked back to my seat. Hissssssss I heard as I sat down. And apparently, as I was speaking, some gentlemen attempted to drown out my voice by crinkling their plastic water bottles. Clever, but un-effective since the microphone only picks up short-range sounds. But really, it wasn’t that bad because I wasn’t booed at or laughed at as other speakers for gun violence prevention had been or shouted down or called a criminal or liar as some New Jersey State Senators had endured.
Waiting and sitting politely through testimony that included fears of tyranny, threats of fascist invasions, calling those who believe in limiting access to firearms traitors who spit on the graves of soldiers who have served and died for the United States of America, and listening to emotional misinformation that claimed that only those in support of more guns could have ever been victims of violent crime, I was amazed at the hyperbolic feeling expressed by those testifying. And then there was the classic idea that there should be a gun “behind every blade of grass” so that invading countries know that we will fight them. Wow. WOW.
I don’t laugh at these claims because the people who voice them almost always truly believe what they are saying. And that’s not funny. Not at all. You can watch the entire set of testimony here: NJ Senate Testimony. My testimony is at 3:19 (That’s three HOURS, not minutes.) One of the other co-chapter leaders for Moms Demand Action – NJ is at 1:07. I’ll freely admit to speaking generally about the gun bills, and not specifically — but I didn’t feel too badly about that because of many pro-gun people who didn’t speak to bills and were overtly rude and disrespectful.
One distinct exception was David Coggins, an attorney from Haddonfield, NJ. He was strongly supportive of everyone being heard, and actually shouted out “Let him speak!” when people were booing. My friend and I sat next to him, and I have to say, it was a pleasure and an honor to converse with him during our 6 hour wait. He testifies at 3:24.
I’m posting the text of my Tuesday testimony for your information. See if you can tell how nervous I was as I stumble over a few words.
“Good afternoon, Senators. Thank you for the chance to testify in favor of the gun bills presented to this body. I am a parent of two young children, I have taught public high school for over a decade, and I am a co-leader of the New Jersey chapter of Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America. I appreciate the opportunity to share just a few of the reasons I support stronger common sense gun regulations, including 2723, but I would prefer the firearm safety classes were for ALL gun owners.
I’ve heard a constant stream of excuses from the gun lobby each and every time a gun tragedy occurs. When a four-year-old finds a firearm and kills his neighbor, those parents were the exception – outliers as irresponsible gun owners. When a husband shoots his wife and then himself dead in their home, he “must have snapped” or – worse – we hear the warped mentality that “she must have made him angry.” And those of us who have worked with children and teenagers in urban settings know that being a victim of gun violence within the borders of a city doesn’t make you a “gang-banger,” as the gun lobby would have us believe. It is a shameful and ugly suggestion.
I am tired of excuses. I am weary of every gun death being explained away as the exception. There have been over 70 New Jersey exceptions in just the last four months. We’re coming close to 4,000 exceptions across our great nation in that same time period. Enough is Enough. Enough excusing, enough blaming the victim, enough inaction. The gun bills presented for consideration to the NJ Senate are not radical. They are common sense. It’s respectful of 2nd Amendment rights, and it is working towards showing respect for all New Jerseyans’ right to ‘Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.’
Thank you very much.”
No need to leave town when you live in mine. Some weekends are comfortable routine, and some are chock full of tantrum-inducing activities. This weekend was exhausting and most excellent - the perfect combination of both.
With the Montclair Film Festival in full-swing and with perfect weather to bask in, my family enjoyed routine activities, indoor culture, and outdoor veggie-garden planting while getting back-to-nature. And we avoided sunburns, to boot!
Saturday was about Soccer, seeing Montclair Film Festival films with the kids (Magic Camp! Cinderella!), and then bowing out of the Filmmakers Party due to exhaustion and wanting to spend a quiet evening at home with the kids. (I know, we’re old and tired and so not red-carpet-ready.) It was totally worth it.
The highlight was definitely the Disney Magic. The kids loved getting dressed up for it, and the entire audience was full of princesses and princes and happy chatter. It was a beautiful, cleaned-up film, and my son laughed through the mouse-antics, and my daughter loved the fairy godmother’s song and magic.
Sunday was lazy and lovely. We were totally out of milk, bread, and any food other than risotto rice and lemon juice, so we went to Taqueria Autentica for lunch – it was the 5th of May, after all. Lucky for me they had their vegan tamales AND an avocado taco as specials. My carnivore husband was very happy to enjoy the chorizo tacos — and we decided that the salsa verde was probably the best thing ever. (After the avocado tacos.) We even got to sit outside in the sun, and the kids enjoyed drawing with the chalk on the sidewalk.
After that it was off to Richfield Farms in Clifton for plantings for our vegetable garden. I picked out lettuce, cukes, peppers, tomatoes, and some sweet basil for good measure. I didn’t buy tomatoes all last summer, so I’m hoping they do just as well this year. It was fun to dig around in the dirt with the kids and plant the already started veggies. My husband had the tough job earlier in the day of building our second raised garden — I got to fool around and pretend to know what I was doing with spacing the seedlings. (18 inches apart is pretty much the same as 8 inches, right?)
We all pretty much collapsed onto the couch after bath-time for some silliness with America’s Funniest Home Videos with Tom Bergeron (my kids love Tom Bergeron!). I spend most of the show cringing and covering my face while the kids and my better half howl in laughter. I swear that show creates helicopter moms.
What was the best part of your weekend? Don’t even try to say it was better than ours!
I can’t tell you how miserable this video compilation from Moms Demand Action for Gunsense in America makes me. It’s been an exhausting, educational, heart-wrenching four months since I started working with the NJ Chapter. And somehow, more than other ads and videos, this one really gets to me. Probably because it demonstrates so clearly how little our government has done to regulate weapons that are used to shoot 100, 000 people in The United States every year. Over 30,000 of those shooting victims die. The rest live with pain, disabilities, PTSD, loss of limb and ability, and so on. We don’t talk about them all too much, do we?
But after being miserable, I shake it off and remember how I felt having to talk about Columbine with my own high school students, how relieved I was to be on maternity leave so I wouldn’t have to have the same conversation after Virginia Tech, how angry and disgusted with a ridiculous “law” I was – recognizing my own Skittle-eating students – at the Trayvon Martin murder, how horrified I was at learning about the Aurora shootings on Twitter – and later hearing the stories of those in the theater “waiting for the shooting to stop, but it didn’t,” and how I sobbed with fury at the Newtown tragedy. Then I remember meeting parents of a young woman killed almost 20 years ago on the LIRR massacre, and seeing their strong, weary, persevering eyes. Such strength.
After a deep breath, I stop being miserable and defeated and get back to determined. This fight is not new. This fight is not unique. But it’s a fight that needs an army of compassion, strength, activity, and YOU. Yes, YOU are needed. Be Bold. Get involved in whichever organization fits for you. There are loads. This post from Mom-101 has a few to start.
We’re used to seeing signs like these in salons, but this one is at an auto shop. Congrats on your popular demand, Willie!
Today is about getting back to hyper-local love. As I came back from the bus stop yesterday afternoon, I saw a crinkly white bag on top of my mailbox. Oh Jeez, I thought, did someone leave something nasty as a “quit being such a busybody” message? (I mean, really, I thought it was dog crap or something.)
It was not something nasty. It was something very, very good.
A few days earlier, my neighbors and I had been waxing poetic on the joys of pastry, and one neighbor claimed that the best pastry is Sfogliatelle from Nicolo’s Bakery in Montclair. I admitting to not particularly liking pastry with cream or gooey insides, and he said, “Oh, you’ll like this.”
And I did. I really, really did. Thank you, neighbor!
From an apartment on Elizabeth Street, just south of Houston, I tried to contact my friend Eileen after the second plane hit the World Trade Center. I remember leaving a message on her cell phone hoping she was okay and to get back to me when she got the chance. Then I called an ex-boyfriend who might have been on the 4/5 coming in from Brooklyn to go to work. I never got through on that call. Then I went up to the roof with a dozen or so people to watch the Twin Towers burn and to hope for the best.
From my dining room in New Jersey, four hours from Boston, I texted my sisters when I saw the tweets about bombs going off at the finish line. “Are you guys okay?” My youngest sister’s office is just off the finish line on Boylston Street, and I thought she might have gone down to watch the race. She hadn’t. She was working from home. They found out about the bombs from me. Then I watched the horror unfold on my laptop screen through tweets and Boston Globe updates, and I hoped for the best.
Based on these and other – less devastating – situations over the years, I know how I react in times of indirect crisis. I reach out to my own, and then I try to make sense of the situation. Seeing how others, those who are in the midst of hell-on-earth, have responded, I can’t promise I would do the same. Would I run towards the smoke and pull aside barricades to try to save a life? I’d like to think I would, but I don’t know. And I don’t blame or judge those who run or hide or pray or curl up in a self-protective cocoon. Because really, luckily, I’ve never found out what I would do.
And that’s what makes heroes what they are. They have been tested, and they chose to jump in – knowing they could help. We can’t all be heroes, and I don’t think everyone should be a hero. If we all ran towards every crisis, it would become a mess of wannabe-do-gooders getting in each others’ way. Some of us need to take on self-preservation, caring for our circles. Some of us need to be on-lookers, witnesses. Some of us need to be the ones who run for help when screamed at to do so.
I’ve heard several accounts of people sheepishly admitting relief at having left the marathon early or going for a drink or not doing enough after the bombs went off. Survivor’s guilt is a nasty business. Similar to regret, it strips away the relief and joy of the present to expose supposed inadequacies of the past. Shake it off. Shake it off and know that each one of us, every day, has the capacity to jump in at any moment. You are here. So jump!
The City of Boston and the State of Massachusetts have set up a place to accept donations that will be used to help those most affected by the events on Patriots’ Day. It’s called The One Fund, and it is the best place to donate, if you choose to do so. Scary Mommy is also running a matching donation up to $1000. So feel free to go there to donate through Scary Mommy Nation.
And if you need some distraction from the news, check out the yeah write challenge grid – or the speakeasy. Good stuff.
I don’t even know what to say any more. I just know that I have to say something. Last night, within hours, I received alerts about two different stories involving preschoolers shooting guns and killing or injuring others.
This story involved a four-year-old (4!) shooting a rifle found on a bed at a cook-out – and killing a 48-year-old woman. Killing. As in – dead.
And then this story was about a four-year-old (4!) shooting a six-year-old in the head. Thankfully, this incident seems like it won’t be as tragic. Still. In the head. Read the story. It could have been your child shot in your neighbor’s yard. Update: The six-year-old has died.
There was no evil-doing here. There was carelessness. Tragedy. Lives altered forever. No bad guy with a gun, you know? So as gun advocates scramble to say, “That guy was stupid – he didn’t lock up his guns.” Or something along the lines of, “They were drinking – don’t drink and show off your guns.” Or, “Every responsible gun owner knows….” People are still getting killed. Children are still getting shot in the head. And these two incidents were accidental. That’s not even the shooting a baby in his stroller or while her diaper is being changed.
Well, guess what? Now that we’re paying attention, we’re starting to see where some the 32 Americans killed with guns every day are coming from. The eight children killed each day. And there are many more than that injured – many times with a lifetime of pain and medication and injury to show for it. And we have tax-payer funded legislators threatening to stymie a conversation, a debate on how we can make a dent, a difference in the 30,000 people killed with guns a year. That’s just in the USA.
As mentioned above, I don’t even know what to say anymore. Common sense gun legislation needs to happen. And the casual gun culture needs to change. Many do, but all gun owners need to respect the power inherent in firearms. It’s not the same as a hammer, a screwdriver, a pair of scissors. And even those have “rules;” even those tools useful for myriad tasks other than possibly harming yourself or others while using them carelessly or dropping them or falling with them — have parents telling their kids “Don’t run with scissors!”
At the very least, we need to keep talking. And our legislators ought to be raising the bar on the conversation, not ending it. Feel free to use this link to tell the 14 US Senators threatening to filibuster the gun violence prevention package that you’d like to keep talking – that we, as a nation, owe it to those who no longer can.
Sonia Sanchez performs. Courtesy of MADLOM’s FB page.
“Am I late?”
I didn’t stand when she walked in. I felt like I ought to. My heart almost jumped out of my chest – but I didn’t stand when she walked in. Instead, close to an hour after we had expected her, she moved into the lobby and to the ticket table I was tucked behind, and I felt a goofy, sparkly grin spread across my face.
And then I realized she was asking me something.
“Am I late?”
You’re 79 years old! I thought. You’re Sonia Sanchez! You can’t be late.
Instead, I gushed, “Oh no. No, no! You’re right on time.” Smooth.
A small smile. “Oh, alright then. Where do I go?” I mumbled something incomprehensible about “back there” or “down the hallway.” It was ambiguous because I didn’t really know where the musicians were. Thankfully, someone with more wits and fewer stars in her eyes did know where the lauded Poet Laureate of Philadelphia and legendary writer needed to go to prepare, and off she went.
Wow, she’s small. No, that’s not the correct word. But yeah, she’s short! And what a presence. Welcoming and intimidating all at once. Loved the jacket.
But, as is preferred when it comes to performers and artists, the best was yet to come. Really, if a performer is better next to you than on stage, there’s something off.
Later, listening to Sonia Sanchez perform her words with world-class jazz musicians Reggie Workman, Odean Pope, and Pheeroan akLaff, I realized I was witnessing a true artist. Four true artists. Hearing her honor Chinua Achebe, who had died two days before, was beautiful, moving. And the powerful performance of “Middle Passage,” with echoes from Odean Pope’s saxophone, created a moving musical conversation. Hearing this particular poem live was extraordinary.
Sanchez has explained in interviews that working with Odean Pope helped her go deeper, more fully into the experience of “Middle Passage.” To be able to witness these legends create a performance in spontaneous familiarity was unforgettable. Listen. I’m babbling because I have no words to convey the power of the evening. Watch it here – but know the subject matter could be a trigger for rape/assault:
This style of performance poetry isn’t for everyone. That’s for sure. But holy hell does Sonia Sanchez reading live make the meaning of the poem jump out and grab the audience by the throat. Sometimes we need a shock to the psyche to remind us what’s good. This was uncomfortable, thrilling, victorious, horrifying, cathartic. What art ought to be more often. And I’m so glad I was there.
Hooking up with the yeah write anniversary celebration this week. Go check out the bloggers who write and the writers who blog. April is also Poetry Month. Try it! You’ll like it.
That Unique Weblog by kdwald is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
