Coming this fall to a celebrity news site near you

Samantha Burke, the soon-to-be mother of Jude Law’s fourth child, held a press conference over the weekend, asking reporters for privacy during this time. At first sound, that may strike most as a counterproductive tactic, but allow me to break it down. I am a Burke myself, so I understand these things. Not to mention I was brought up on this stuff; I have hours and hours of reading, watching, and analyzing celebrity news under my belt. Naturally, I bring the kind of much-needed insight to these things that Rachel Nichols does to her ESPN interviews.

So here’s how it works. As her seasoned lawyer pointed out in the statement he read, Samantha Burke has been getting constant requests for interviews from every media outlet. And tabloid magazine. And why wouldn’t she? With the on-going health care debate on Capitol Hill; bracing ourselves for the next phase of the recession; the political unrest everywhere from Iraq to Pakistan, Iran to Afghanistan; nothing interests Americans more than Jude Law—what’s more, Jude Law’s ex-love interest who is now having his baby.

I know, I know. I am being unfair. Healthcare and Jude Law: apples and oranges. You can’t compare them. But even under the heading of celebrity news, who cares? This isn’t TomKat or Bradgelina. A press conference announcing Angelina’s decision to adopt three kids from Compton I could understand. But who does this woman think she is? Heidi Montag?

Oh, the burden of being wanted. It’s like being the popular girl in high school. When those lesser guys would follow you around, their mouths open, metaphorically drooling all over you. And like those guys, the media just doesn’t take the hint when you send them mixed messages. You have to gather them around to tell them to stop gathering around. Only an idiot wouldn’t get the point.

Long time, no blog...

Sorry, was gone awhile. Working on some other assignments. Back now. Posts to start this weekend.

Can green be local

What do you do when you don't have a Whole Foods or Wegmans in your area? How green can you be? Organic fruits are relatively easy to come by, but in small communities, are there really places you can readily buy natural, organic skincare products that don’t have any of the chemicals of the big box brands? Or clothing made in the U.S.? Dog toys that aren’t toxic? Things people were paid a decent wage for?

Of course, there are a lot of online retailers (i.e. Nimli, greenloop) available to everyone. But these places are not like Zappos, where shipping is free.* If you’re like me, who varies in size depending on the brand, that involves a lot of guesswork. When things don’t fit, you have to pay more money to ship it back. I wind up paying $15 in non-refundable shipping costs, just to return a $50 item. So what does Rhode Island offer? I’m not talking about Providence where there’s probably more available, including a Whole Foods. I’m talking about small cities—Aquidneck Island, Jamestown, Narragansett. I keep asking people and they don’t really know. So here’s a couple of the best I’ve discovered thus far.

Green Grocer
where it is: 934 East Main Rd. Portsmouth, RI. 401.683.0007. what I like about it: location and staff. A great option for people who are at the other end of the island—whether they live in Portsmouth or are just hanging out there for the day. Pick up some organic fruits and cheeses and go picnic at Greenvale Vineyards, where they have a jazz and wine tasting Saturday afternoons, May through October. Green Grocer offers healthy, organic foods while supporting the local economy. Among other things, they sell fruits, vegetables, meat, and milk from local farmers. Additionally, the staff is friendly and helpful. And not in that annoying way that prompts me to say “I want to be left to my own devices.” They’re truly nice—the kind of friendly that puts me in a better mood.

Green Envy
what it is: eco-friendly boutique that sells jewelry, handbags, Soy Candles by Phebes, skincare (Farmaesthetic and Bryce lines), hair care products, home goods, and clothing for women, men, and babies. where it is: 223 Goddard Row Newport, RI. 401.619.1993. what I like about it: better for you in all respects. Green Envy isn’t your typical Newport boutique where, when you enter, the shopkeeper gives you an anemic “Hi,” and then returns her attention to the book she clearly finds more interesting than you. Too many shopkeepers aren’t interested in catering to the customer. They think it’s a privilege to let you shop in their overpriced store. Hopefully the recession will force them to be more conscientious of the customer, but in case that doesn’t happen, go to Green Envy. Rachel Lessne, the owner, is always friendly and willing to help. You’ll get a warm hello when you enter and she has a knack for offering up bits and pieces about the products without pestering you. When I notice a solar-powered purse, she’ll tell me who makes it, how it works—giving me all the information without the pressure to buy it. Everything in the shop is not only eco-friendly, organic, or fair trade, but reasonably priced. If something is expensive, it’s not because she marked it up extraordinarily; it’s because utilizing organic materials or fair trade practices costs that much. A great place for birthday and hostess gifts, plus it’s the best kind of shopping experience you can have: one that supports your health, the environment, the community, and your wallet.

I hope this sparks people’s curiosity to go explore Rhode Island’s green scene on their own and share what they find, good or bad, on Rhode Tripping.

*TOMS offers free shipping in the U.S. though I could not find on their website if that means free returns as well. Greenloop currently offers $5 shipping and free returns, according to their website.

Wake up and smell the coffee

This week, Adlai Wertman, a professor at USC’s Marshall School of Business, wrote a post about how the growing numbers of unemployed upper-middle class and rich people could be a good thing. These are highly-skilled laborers that could put their capabilities and resources to good use: volunteering and assisting charities. While not generating any monetary income, opportunities exist for these individuals to work out their professional muscles by giving back. A good idea that I’m sure most will embrace in theory but no one will try out or take on.

When we’re down, that’s the time we most need to work out, eat right, and get out of the house. But it’s also the time we’re least likely to. Whether we're talking about how to function in winter or during unemployment, these are the times we most need to bolster our mood, our emotional health, but the times we’re most likely to sulk, wallow, and let the situation exacerbate itself. We actually sit there and watch it grow, getting worse by the hour and day, knowing we need to act, but becoming increasingly paralyzed by our fears. I’m sure it would help, just like working out when it’s grey and cold outside can really mitigate the despair of winter, but people are going to come up with excuses why they can’t. “I don’t want to promise something I can’t keep. What if I get a job in three months?” “I can’t get sidetracked. I need to devote my time to searching for a job. In an economy like this, you need all the time—40 hours a week—to look for a job.” I appreciate Mr. Wertman’s point, but it is an ideal that will never be realized. It’s the quintessential thing you say to someone when they’re down and feeling overwhelmed by the state of things. You say, “Hey, this could be a good thing! You could turn it into something positive!” as they sink lower into the sofa cushions.

Straighten up and fly right

Remember the commander in Top Gun? The bald guy that’s constantly sucking on a cigar with that pissed off, old man, chip-on-his-shoulder attitude? I looked up Top Gun on IMDB and it turns out his name is Stinger.

I think Congress could really use him right now. Correction: I think we could really use him yelling at Congress. While driving home from work yesterday, I heard on the radio that the government has spent a trillion dollars in the last few weeks—money that, surprise, they don’t have. Was there ever a time when a short, bald, pissed off man was more needed to say “Son, your ego is writing checks your body can’t cash!”

James Tolkan is the actor who played Stinger. It’d be nice to hire him for the occasion. Have him walk on in to the Capitol Building and start kicking ass and taking names. Congress needs to get their act together. What are we on any way? Draft 471 of the bailout?

I don’t want to hear anymore of this “It’s the Republicans’ fault it hasn’t gotten passed yet” and “The Democrats aren’t helping; they’re going to make the problem worse!” I feel like I’m dealing with two children and I want to smack them both. I’m not suggesting that they slap together some half-assed stimulus package but the economy is going down faster than Monica Lewinsky.

We can’t wait any longer. Remember when Hollywood’s plane goes down and Stinger asks how long it will take to get another plane in the air? “Bullshit ten minutes! This thing is going to be over in two minutes! Get on it!”

Of course, the only people who are going to check Congress—and Obama, for that matter—are us. We are, collectively, Stinger. It’s up to us to impress upon each one of them that if they don’t work together; if they don’t stop being politicians and start being statesmen; “if you screw up just this much, you’ll be flying a cargo plane full of rubber dog sh*t out of Hong Kong!”

Link to

Jamie Lee Curtis' post, yesterday.

Hendrika's Cafe

Few places can give you that feeling of warmth and sunshine when it’s cold and grey outside. Hendrika’s Café & Coffee, on the corner of Broadway and Farewell is one of those places that can. The café’s giant paned windows let in a lot of light and remind you of a sunroom. The walls are a warm, golden yellow so that even when it’s cloudy outside, it seems sunny inside. Little wooden tables and chairs fill the main room. Adjoining it is another room with more 60s-style tables and chairs. Each has its own vibe, but it’s the main room that I like best. A counter with stools divides the room in half, separating the kitchen—which occupies the back half of the room—from the little tables and chairs that occupy the front half. A long strip of blackboard runs above the counter, just below the ceiling. In sweet, slightly cursive handwriting the drink offerings are listed in different colors of chalk and accompanied by drawings of cups and saucers.

The menu is not extensive but it feels complete, covering all the bases for lunch and breakfast. Everything is made in-house that day—a big thing for me since I once worked at a place in town, where nothing was made on-site, but ordered days in advance from some deli or catering company. At Hendrika’s, the owner gets in around six every morning to start work on that day’s soup offerings.

So many times I want something fresh, homemade and moderately priced for lunch, but it’s hard to satisfy all of those requirements. Inevitably, quality and tastiness become secondary to cost. At Hendrika’s, I don’t have to make a choice between the two; the menu is reasonably-priced. I love when I can get a pot of tea for a $1.65. Breakfast is served all day long and for $3.50, you can get two eggs, any style, with toast and fruit. Sandwiches are $6-7 and they come with pasta salad and a pickle. The Parisian is good. A layer of caramelized apples is spread on French bread; warm ham and brie are served on top with spicy mustard.

In addition to serving breakfast and lunch, they have a wide array of drink selections. Just about anything can be taken to-go. The place is so inviting though, you may just want to stay. I once sat contently at a corner table for an hour and a half with a notebook, a bowl of split pea soup, and a small pot of English Breakfast. I stayed there, writing, until my tea was completely gone—and no one seemed to mind. That’s the kind of place it is. Previously, I’ve blogged about my quest to find “a spot.” Hendrika’s is the closest thing I can find to that in Newport.

Why Rhode Tripping?

I wanted a versatile blog—one that would allow me to express my varied interests.

I wanted an outlet where I could share my opinions on some of the restaurants, cafes, and eateries in town. So much is out there but so little of it is worth the money. Regardless of the experience, I like talking about it. Either it’s great and I want to tell people, “Go here,” or it sucked, and I have to get it off my chest.

I wanted to ruminate on the environment and all things eco-friendly. There’s a lot of talk about it, but not a lot of meaningful things being said. Turning off the lights, driving as little as possible, turning the thermostat down two degrees in winter, these are all obvious things we do because none of us want to spend more money than necessary. However, when it comes to organic apples and organic lotion, it doesn’t cost less to go green, it costs more. Then again, with the tomato and jalapeño pepper recalls last year, we start thinking, “Maybe it’s worth it.” The recession highlights the complexity of the issue at hand: the economics versus the environment. What is worth it and where do you draw the line?

I also wanted to leave room for the oddball topics that I couldn’t not blog about. Politics is not something I have a great interest in writing about, but on occasion something happens that I feel compelled to write about. Same is true for a lot of other things.

Rhode Tripping was born. The double pun allowed me to cohesively bring together my various interests under the same umbrella. First: road tripping in Rhode Island; second: trippin’ on anything, but doing it while living in Rhode Island.

Tricky Dick, Slick Willy, and Bad Bush

When I saw the trailer for Frost/Nixon, and Frank Langella as Nixon says, “I’m saying when the president does it, it’s not illegal.” I was shocked and disturbed. But by the time the line came up in the movie—after watching Langella for an hour and a half as Nixon—I thought, “Yeah, that seems about right. I agree with that.”

I’m 26 years old. My presidential experience has been Clinton and Bush. That’s been my life for the last 16 years. Aside from being vaguely aware of the first Iraq war and Bush, Sr. as the figure that took us there, Clinton and Bush are all I know. Reagan exists in my knowledge of him, but not in my memory. What my personal experience is comprised of is one man known for getting B.J.s in the Oval Office, and another that led us into a war on disputable evidence. More importantly, as he leaves office, we’re coming up on six years in two wars.

Clinton was impeached. Bush should at least be investigated. Eight years after high school and American History I know or remember very little about Nixon. So watching the movie and relearning what he did, I kept waiting to find out something else. He broke into the DNC headquarters. Is that it?

One of the film’s characters, James Reston Jr., has a line about how anti-democratic Nixon’s actions were. He tried to get a leg up in an election, tried to learn the Democrats’ strategy. It’s not like he bent the vote. He didn’t make up ballots, or discount ballots. What he did was unethical, but it doesn’t raise my eyebrows. I don’t relate to this response—that was prevalent at the time and is still felt by many today—of feeling personally insulted by Nixon’s supposed blatant disregard for democracy. Older generations—like my parents'—experienced Nixon first, and then, years later, Clinton and Bush. It didn't happen that way for me. I learned about Nixon in history class while I was experiencing Clinton (and Bush) firsthand. If it's 1977, and there’s no Mr. BJ or Mr. Decider to compare Nixon to, I can see how one could become offended by Nixon’s actions. But my knowledge of Nixon came after my experiencing Clinton
and Bush everyday in newspapers and on TV.

And Kennedy—I didn’t experience him as a refreshing contrast to Eisenhower who might revive the spirit of the country, but through the few repeated images that are thrown up in every television piece of him and are always alongside pictures of Marilyn Monroe or candid photos of him lounging poolside with various other women. And there’s always that undercurrent that something bad is about to happen. The sense of happy-go-lucky snapshots leading to trouble.

So it’s hard to see Nixon as betraying the legacy—and the Golden era—of the Presidency. Because I didn’t see Kennedy as being all that great before him. And what came after Nixon was so much worse. Nixon’s actions were neither unique to a President, nor were they the best example of a President abusing power. Andrew Jackson still bears that title, having massacred hundreds of thousands of Native-Americans by presidential order. Even in recent history—in my life—Nixon’s actions do not stand out in comparison to Clinton and Bush. I know most Democrats dismiss what Clinton did, saying it didn’t affect how he governed. But I find him getting a blow job in the Oval Office to be a greater mockery of the office of President than anything Nixon ever did. And Bush? I don’t understand how a person today could get worked up over Nixon saying, “I’m saying when the president does it, it’s not illegal.” when more recently, a President has said, “I’m the decider.” More people balked at the poor grammar in that sentence than at the idea behind it.

Maverick-y Seasonal Affective Disorder

I’m having trouble writing mostly because I feel like I have nothing to say. I mean, there are other problems. I’m not disciplined, I procrastinate, I look for any excuse not to work and then I devote my time to legitimating the excuse I’ve come up with. It’s a sad pattern, greatly exacerbated in winter. You know, when it’s grey outside and you can’t tell whether it’s dusk or that’s just the day. 8am looks the same as 4pm. We’re too hard on Sarah Palin. The cold and lack of light does things to a person. If I had to spend a winter up there, you’d have difficulty diagramming my sentences too. Hell, I’m surprised she’s not catatonic.

My seasonal affective disorder is pretty predictable. It’s like a menstrual cycle: let’s see, it’s been three weeks since I last saw sunshine, so I should be getting depressed by Tuesday morning. Usually, it hits February 20th and stays till around, oh, March 20th. In December, winter is this quaint little idea—a novelty that makes Christmas feel authentic. In January, there’s my birthday to look forward to. And Valentine’s Day is cool because my boyfriend and I make each other something. But after Valentine’s Day, there’s nothing to look forward to. It becomes just a matter of waiting out the rest of winter. And in the northeast, winter doesn’t end till mid-April. You’ll get a warm day here and there at the end of March, beginning of April. But it’s just a tease, meant to sink you back into the depression it took you weeks to shake.

I don’t know what it is but this year my seasonal affective disorder has hit early. And just like a menstrual cycle that shouldn’t be due yet, I am bitter. I’m thinking, “Hey! You’re not supposed to come for another four days!” Or month. Nevertheless, it’s raining on my parade.

It’s tough enough when it hits mid-February and there’s two months left of winter to wait out. But to have it happen now—to have to wait out three months—I may just come out of it saying, “You betcha!”

Destination: chocolate?

If you’re going to name your place Destination: Chocolate, you better know what you’re doing. First, you better know chocolate. Second, you better be able to execute it (and by that I mean not just know chocolate in theory, but be able to translate that knowledge and turn out an incredible bonbon). If you’re not going to do that—call your place something else. That’s my biggest beef with Destination: Chocolate in Newport. Not that they turn out mediocre chocolates, but that they profess their chocolates are so great.

What’s the old saying? Under-promise, over-deliver. If you under-deliver, you’re going to hurt your business more then the mediocre product alone would have. For example: a restaurant offers a crème brûlée on the dessert menu. You order it; it’s a decent crème brûlée. Not the best you’ve had, but certainly not the worst. Suppose the restaurant offers the best crème brûlée ever. If they serve you a “C” crème brûlée, that “C” is going to stand out more in comparison to the “A” standard they set up. It’s a failure by comparison.

The name is what initially drew me in. Just as if some restaurant had bragged “Oh, we have the best crème brûlée,” it dared me to try it. Now, I should stop for a moment and tell you I take chocolate seriously. Especially when it comes at $24 for a box of twelve. Or $10 for a box of four.

Destination: Chocolate has the look of a gourmet chocolate shop. Chocolate confections pour out of antique-looking medicine cabinets; each impeccably wrapped in cellophane and tied with blue ribbon. A butcher’s block style table surrounded by wooden stools looks perfect for a chocolate tasting. The whole place is warm and inviting.

The proprietor greeted me cordially and gave me a brief rundown of her chocolates. She spoke so authoritatively on the subject I almost missed the fact that she doesn’t make the bonbons herself. They’re made fresh, with local ingredients. But by someone else. Somewhere else.

Once home, I sit down on the couch, tucking my legs underneath me. I pulled out my box, excited to finally eat my prettily-painted chocolates. The first—alright, not the best espresso I’ve ever had. But let’s try the passion fruit. The proprietor said her passion fruit bonbon was very good so I’m enthusiastic. But it’s not quite right. The balance isn’t there and it ends up being somewhat sour. Next up, the Venezuelan—the store owner’s self-professed signature chocolate. It’s completely bland; I don’t note any of the rich spiciness that I’ve come to associate with Venezuelan chocolate. The box of chocolates goes on like this—successively underwhelming me.

I’m not as disappointed by the fact that the chocolates fell flat, as I am by the unsubstantiated egotism of the store’s name. Garrison Confections in Providence or Golosa in Philadelphia are much more deserving of the title “Destination for Chocolate.”