Leesburg Essay 14: The Snowmageddon Issue

a.k.a. Tell Vancouver We Still Have Snow Available for Immediate Shipment

Annaliese, Nora, &Alexander; Christmas Eve 2009; Leesburg

Yoga Update

Since October, I’ve been teaching quite a bit in gyms around the Leesburg area. I work my schedule around when the kids are in school or when George is home, but even with the time restrictions I have found numerous opportunities to teach. How true it was when our instructors warned us trainees that as a yoga teacher you are totally exposed up in front of the class (like any kind of teacher, I suppose). They also stressed how hard it is to teach mixed-level gym classes, tackling the dual problem of keeping the more advanced students from getting bored and the beginners from getting lost—the solution to which is to become skilled at giving people options. In a class with a lot of beginners, I have found that I must demonstrate the poses almost continually otherwise the students tend to freeze in place. I spend the whole class in front on my own mat or walking around and helping individuals. This makes it harder to focus on what the whole class is doing.

One of the places in which I’ve been teaching is incredibly loud—the aerobics room is right over the racquetball courts and behind the weight machines—and the class typically has 15-plus students. I imagine that it’s hard for them to relax—and hard for them to hear me. I just ignore the noise and talk over it. Luckily, I can be very loud when I need to be. Most of the group class instructors (e.g., body pump, cardio step, zumba—a popular dance class) have the lights in the room on very bright, the fans on, and microphones on for shouting instructions. In contrast, the yoga instructors come in and turn off the lights, turn off the fans, and in some cases bring in their own heaters.

Many yoga teachers at gyms teach something called “power yoga,” which generally means that they go through poses very quickly to create a big cardiovascular effect. Even though a couple of my classes are labeled “power yoga,” I don’t really teach power yoga. I don’t think that power yoga really helps the students to understand and feel what’s happening in the poses. I asked the gym manager to relabel the classes to be “flow yoga” so it’s not false advertising.

Many of my jobs in the fall involved subbing for others. Currently, I have three regular jobs and one gym for which I’m on the list for a Saturday morning class rotation. There’s another facility desperate for yoga teachers out near Dulles that is willing to pay above normal rates to get teachers, so a friend and I may be splitting those Saturday morning sessions. It would be ideal to have a couple more regular classes. There’s also the option of marketing private instruction, but that begs the question of where the instruction would take place.

One of my colleagues from the teacher training, and one who has drawn me into a number of teaching jobs, asked me to consider subbing for her “yogalates” class, which is a combination of yoga and pilates (which is an exercise program developed by some German guy and meant for strengthening your core). At first I said no because I’ve never even taken a pilates class and I expected I’d be utterly hopeless. In the end I said yes, and bought a book and video to study up. I then asked a yoga teacher who also teaches pilates what she would recommend I do, and she commented that she’s never understood the point of yogalates classes because the two approaches are actually quite different. Well, given this, I memorized the basic principles and a ten pose routine, and then managed to make it through the class. A group class instructor develops a number of things to say that become routine, phrases to fall back on during the class. I don’t have a feeling for how the teachers cue pilates poses, so I didn’t have anything to fall back on other than what I managed to memorize. I guess I would benefit from taking some pilates classes but they always seem to be at noon or some other time when it’s pretty much impossible for me to go.

It is hard to tell how you are doing as a teacher, unless you get direct feedback from your students. I guess if the students keep coming than I’m doing okay. The students who come up to me after class mainly like to talk with me about their injuries, or how lately they’ve let their yoga practice slip and they're trying to get back into it; sometimes how different my class is (usually they seem to be saying this as a good thing) than the other “power” yoga classes.

In my last job (at EPA—now almost eight years ago), I had a normal salary, so I rarely thought about the fact that my salary was listed on my paychecks as an hourly rate. Now I’m getting paid by the hour, so I really have the sense of what it’s like to work for an hour.

I have continued a lot of the reading that I was doing for my teacher training. What has occurred to me lately—probably not a remarkable insight, but I hadn’t thought about it before—is that yoga philosophy is definitely tied to place, which in this case means India, which means references to elephants and lotus flowers. (Yoga philosophy is also closely related to Hinduism). This is all well and good, but what if yoga had been born in the Arctic Circle? Would we then be speaking of elephant seals? How much does this matter? In the case of Ayurveda, the traditional health system closely related to yoga, it actually means a lot. Ayurveda demands ingredients and herbs that are most likely to familiar to Indians, but not to Westerners. Just once I’d like to hear a discussion of Ayurveda that suggested a Western equivalent for Indian holy basil (tulsi).

A recent article in The New York Times discussed the relationship between yoga and food, eventually covering some of the arguments about the necessity of veganism to yoga. Some yogis are quite militant on the subject, citing the philosophical basis of yoga, one piece of which (a “yama” or abstention) stresses the broad concept of non-violence (the Sanskrit term is ahimsa), which is taken by many to extend to vegetarianism (or even further to veganism). This is fine, but I’d like to know if they also subscribe to the “yama” of Bramacharya, which basically says that you’re supposed to abstain from sex. Those in the yoga world are perennially reinterpreting this stricture, much like the second amendment of the Constitution. I think the focus on veganism is political more than anything else, something hip about which to be holier-than-thou. I suspect this is the case, but I’d have a more complete picture if I could find out how the militant vegans felt about abortion, given the ahimsa stricture. And, if yoga brings people away from various bad habits on its own, as the article notes, why the need to browbeat anyone? Finally—on the idea of eating and doing yoga—it’s not really a good idea to eat and then get yourself into, let’s say, a headstand. And I don’t need an ancient source to tell me that.

In case you’re curious, I’m listed on Yoga Alliance’s website, although my name is misspelled as "Kathrine".

Media Update

Books with Pages to Turn

Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. This is the first book in a series that was a favorite of George’s sister Alex. It is historical fiction combined with elements of Harlequin romances (I recently reconnected through Facebook with a friend from high school whose room at that time was covered in huge stacks of Harlequin romances). I liked the book, but I didn’t love it. I found the lead character too incurious and nonfrustrated by eighteenth century life. And she goes on ad nauseam about the beauty of her buxom young husband.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling. Nora and I have begun the Harry Potter series, making it through the first two books. I found them very funny and clever. The characters and situations are interesting, and the kids seem mostly to behave like real children, which is a plus. In addition, it’s nice to see Nora play that she’s the character “Hermione” from the Harry Potter series rather than, let’s say, Hannah Montana. It’s hard for Nora being the only one in the family who can’t read, although they are working on this at school. Don’t bother to ask her, though, as she never seems to be able to remember what she did in school.

The Girl who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson. This book is the second in the Millennium series that I mentioned in my last essay. I thought it lived up to the promise of the first book, and now I must wait until the third book is translated from Swedish, which I believe is supposed to be by next summer.

I am currently making my way through War and Peace. I hope to provide a full account in my next essay, but I’m enjoying it so far. The biggest problem for me is less the tossing around of all those Russian names, but all the military terms that are a complete mystery to me, such as “Cossack,” “Hussar,” and “Junker.” And the whole battle scene early on that involves the taking or blowing up of this one silly bridge.

Audiobooks

The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. This book is beautiful and hopeful in a weird sort of way, but the reader on the audio version has a style that is too slow and deliberate. The story revolves around a teenager who is raped and murdered by a neighbor and she observes the fallout for her family from her perch in Heaven. Apparently the movie eliminates much of the ugliness and presents a lighter and younger-teenager friendly movie, but I imagine that this approach cuts the heart out of the story.

The Forsyte Saga by John Galsworthy. These books concern the slow disintegration of the traditional outlook and lifestyles of an upper middle class family in Victorian-era Britain. It moves slowly, as does the voice of the reader, but I found it weirdly fascinating. The motivations of the (numerous) characters are in many ways utterly incomprehensible to a twenty-first-century American, but there are things I found to recognize in them all.

Television

The Biggest Loser. I am still a fan of this silly “reality” show. Every year they have to up the ante, so this season they have the heaviest person ever on the show: 526 pounds. After his first week on the ranch, however, he’d already lost about 40 pounds or so, which is quite astonishing. The end of last season featured the participants running a marathon. This brought back for me all my memories of walking the Marine Corps Marathon in 1997—and being out on Haynes Point in the 50 degree, rainy weather, with few people out that far to cheer on the participants, exposed to the elements, and thinking “wow—I really want to go home.”

24. We’d nearly given up on 24—the hook of the ticking clock had long since lost any meaning, the plots were formulaic, the characters sort of annoying—then along came this season, which so far is promising. The addition of Katee Sackhoff from Battlestar Galactica is definitely a plus, as is the return of Jack’s partner from last season, the newly-deranged Renee.

Caprica. I was completely suspicious of this show, which purports to cover the origins of the conflict that leads to Battlestar Galactica (50 years later). I should have had more confidence in the producers, because I liked the first couple of episodes a lot. A completely different show but compelling in its own way.

Lost. We are still following this series, now in its last season—but in this case, “following” can be considered a very loose term.

Movies: Four Stars

Milk. My favorite part of Milk, a movie starring Sean Penn that tells the story of Harvey Milk, the gay activist from San Francisco who was eventually assassinated, is all these guys sitting around in a purported “camera shop” in the Castro district mocking one another day in and day out. It is unclear to me how they made any money in the “camera shop” because they seemed to have a wall with rolls of film and little else, but that doesn’t seem to concern anyone else in the movie. The end is touching. I thought Sean Penn was great.

Three Stars

Burn After Reading. Directed by the Coen brothers, this film is punctuated with weird, unexpected violence, but it’s very funny—and Brad Pitt is so ridiculous it’s refreshing.

Rachel Getting Married. I first thought that this might be a chick flick and George rolled his eyes, but then we started watching and realized that this was much darker than your typical wedding story. Rachel’s sister Kim gets out of rehab to attend Rachel’s wedding, and all sorts of revelations concerning their train wreck of a family ensue. The only problem was the ending, which was typically vague (the “I kinda like the way this movie feels but I really don’t know how to end it” syndrome). This leads us right into…

I've Loved You So Long. Another uplifting story about sisters, one of whom has a challenging past. Kristin Scott Thomas is terrific. It only gets three stars because—despite the fact that it’s a quality film— it’s very French.

Two Stars

Body of Lies. I liked the Jordanians in this movie—and it has since come out that the Jordanians are in fact in close working contact with the CIA—though not much else. George hated pretty much everything about the movie, especially the way that the Agency is portrayed. Russell Crowe is not on screen enough to develop his character, and Leonardo DiCaprio sometimes sounds like he’s reading his lines. Not a best effort by writer, cast, or director.

Australia. This movie is very pretty, but it has such a weird tone to it (Is it a comedy? A drama? Are we supposed to like Nicole Kidman?) that neither one of us could say that we really enjoyed watching it. That said, the ending is definitely better than the beginning and some parts are truly touching.

Theater

Cirque du Soleil—Wintuk. We caught Cirque du Soleil at Madison Square Garden over the Christmas holiday. The production was striking and beautiful; the “story” is nonsensical and besides the point. Alexander was literally on the edge of his seat through most of it; Nora claims she liked it too. I’m absolutely certain she liked the part at the end where paper snow came pouring out of the ceiling onto the audience; she collected a big chunk of it and had me carry it home in my purse. (It’s still there, come to think of it.)

Random Stuff

Hunting season. Driving back from D.C. one night last fall, a hormone-crazed deer launched itself into the side of George’s car on the highway and did about $5500 worth of damage. The auto body place said that at that point they were seeing an average of ten deer-damaged cars a day; Enterprise Rent-A-Car reported that six out of ten of their rentals were resulting from deer strikes. George got half the two-deer-per-season limit that Uncle Bill is allowed to bring home in New Jersey, and he didn’t even need to go crawling around the woods in the cold.

Kids and illness. As I learned in history class at some point during my long school career, revolutions occur in the time of rising expectations. It’s like that with kids and illness. Both kids had the flu in the fall. (Alexander, at least, definitely had swine flu, although Nora was sicker.) When they’re really sick it’s almost easier to deal with them. The real trouble starts when they begin to feel better and are almost ready to go back to school or start playing with their friends again. Then there’s constant collapsing on the floor and whatnot as they chafe against their illness-related restrictions.

Our budding composer. In New Jersey over the Christmas holiday, Alexander composed the following little song about Nora; he says he came up with it while lying in bed and had to jump up, turn on the lights, and write it down before he forgot:

‘Tis the season to check our passports

Fa la la la la la la la la

I think my sister’s name is “Nopa”

Fa la la la la la la la la

(Here’s where Nora chimes in: No no no no no no no no no)

My parents also think that’s true

Fa la la la la la la la al
So I’m going to check her passport too

Fa la la la la la la la la

Food. I've had (lately) the feeling that I should learn to eat fish. At the very least it would be nice to have another option when we go to restaurants. So I chose a fish recipe from my most trustworthy source, Cook’s Illustrated. They considered a classic French recipe for fish (in this case cod) baked in parchment and updated it to be baked in aluminum foil pockets with a compound lemon butter on the top and leeks and carrots underneath. As it baked, I sat with uneasy expectation—probably how my kids feel every night at dinner. Was it a failure, do you ask? Well, it was okay. Nothing to write home about (although I guess I am writing home about it). I didn’t say yum, nor did I say yuck. I may try it again someday soon, with a different fish. I still prefer tofu for an alternate source of protein. Alexander sort of liked it but not in large quantities.

I have, however, developed a strong liking for vegetarian sushi. This probably gives George hope, as he loves sushi and I’m sure he wishes we’d be willing to go to a sushi restaurant with him. Let’s see: if Alexander can eat simple cooked shrimp (which he loves) and I can eat the veggie sushi, this just leaves Nora. Plain rice, maybe?

Wedding dances. George and I have been to two weddings in the past year. One was for a couple in their early 20s and one for a couple in their early 40s. Both featured Abba’s “Dancing Queen” during the dance portion of the reception and both times it got a big chunk of the guests on their feet. What is it about this song? At what point will this stop being a high point at weddings? Alexander loves this song, too, so maybe not too soon.

Speaking of dancing, Vanity Fair featured an article on the history of disco that consisted of quotes from people remembering bits and pieces of the times. One quote from the writer Fran Liebowitz describes going to the New York clubs in the wintertime and being perplexed at what to do what your winter coat. She says that at one club people kind of folded them and laid them on the side and kept an eye on them. She says thinking about this dilemma still has the power to make her feel anxious. I can relate to this—I remember going to the club Limelight in New York when it was horrifically cold out. I must have brought a coat. What did I do with it? Was there a coat check? Did I manage to get it back? There was probably a whole industry in New Jersey reselling the coats of people that managed to lose them at the clubs.

Canine intelligence. I thought that along with tying shoes, reading, and adding two plus two, the kids would learn how to tell time in school. Alexander displays, however, a disturbing (perhaps deliberate) lack of awareness of what time it is. Actually, the dog tells time much better than my kids. He knows when breakfast and dinner are, what time we go to the bus in the morning and afternoon, and what time George comes home at night (this is when he primes himself by running around the house and barking at everything).

No Clear Place to Start on Current Politics

Well, just where to start. Perhaps with the distribution of visas to those coming to visit the U.S. I thought the point of having a visa structure was so that the U.S. could control who was coming into the country. It amazes me that the Christmas Bomber could get a visa despite the warnings his father gave the government about him. I gather that the State Department requires a great weight of evidence before it denies a visa, but really. I guess a more strict regime could create complications for people trying to get into the country if one (perhaps false) comment from a friend or a family member or “source” to the U.S. government gets that person on a no-entry list, but it seems that the State Department just passes these things out willy nilly to some groups and then makes it very difficult for academics and scientists seeking visas to come to conferences to take up research at American universities.

I’m counting the months until President Obama talks about a single issue without making some reference—explicit or implicit—to some mess that he “inherited” from the previous (read “obviously incompetent”) administration. I would love to see him stand up and own something—anything. Between blaming the previous administration and pushing forward the pain of various pieces of legislation to beyond his current term, he’s going to take responsibility for nothing. No president is ever handed a blank slate. How lovely it would be if they were—oh were it that the outgoing president was simply able to sign off on the final piece of legislation, push through a couple of controversial pardons, erase the white board, and turn out the lights, leaving the new president a fresh blotter and an empty agenda for the first staff meeting.

One presumably wants to be president because not only do you get a cool house and a cool ride and your own plane (!) but you get to make what you believe are much better decisions than the guy before you. Oh, unless you don’t like to or are too inexperienced at it. The president reportedly didn’t like his options on Afghanistan. Let me guess—he was looking for the option that was costless and was followed up by a chorus of Hallelujahs. News flash: whatever option you choose, Mr. President, people are going to die. Then he finally made a momentous move, stunning his critics: he decided to decide! Of course he supposedly decided a good six to seven months earlier.

I am beginning to see Obama morphing into Tiger woods. Not in the obvious ways, and no, I don’t believe that he’s got mistresses all over the world. Tiger Woods seems to be one of those people who became a receptacle for others’ hopes and dreams. No one seemed really to know him and he remained aloof and sheltered by all sorts of handlers—but now all the flaws are being teased out. At least with the Clintons it seemed to be all out there—all their flaws and whatnot—even their lack of allegiance to any particular set of ideas was out there. Obama reminds me of Tiger: a blank slate onto which others have pitched their assumptions. Even his reported eloquence seems to have crumbled into nothing. I find his speeches pretty boring. Even when Clinton was saying nothing or something infuriating he was interesting to listen to (well, except for those seeming four-hour long Chavez-style State of the Unions).

Also, Scott Brown, the new senator from Massachusetts, may be the miracle boy, but he’s also a scandal in the making. Just look at him.

Nora and friend under dire threat from global warming, February 2010

Baxter and his friends bewildered by climate change, February 2010

Welcome to the sunny south, February 2010

Nora's picture of George shoveling, February 2010

Given the global climate chaos in December and into February that saw us here in Virginia experiencing extremely cold temperatures and huge amounts of snow, the threat of global warming is a difficult sell (I personally believe this winter is a result of the wrath of God descending on D.C.). Obviously global warming needs a serious rebranding. Upon the president’s return to the U.S. from the Copenhagen climate conference, he was greeted by terrible cold and even frostier politics. (While at Copenhagen, I believe the president apologized for years of U.S. economic development. George thinks that when developing countries start demanding that industrialized countries fork over more cash to make up for years of pollution, the West should demand payment for the development of things like electricity, cell phones, computers, the Internet, vaccines,...you get the idea.) The climate crowd is gradually making its way toward the conclusion that mass suicide on the part of Americans, western Europeans, Canadians, Australians, and perhaps the Chinese is the only solution. If this is to be the case, then I humbly suggest that unlike the leadership of Al Qaeda, the first person to bring it up in public should be the first one to go.

Of course the recent scandals concerning climate data don’t help matters. The cynicism of many climate scientists is jawdropping. It seems that they believe that ordinary people are too stupid to grasp the nuances of climate data and its interpretation, and thus it’s not important to be careful about data management, never mind interpretation. What they’ve managed to do is make it more likely that people will believe that their agenda is really to reign in the biggest economies and punish us for wasteful lifestyles. The Economist had a really good take on the climate data scandal. I also like this editorial from Bjorn Lomborg in The Australian. Finally, related to this subject, here is a link to a good article about environmentalism as the new religion.

In Alexander’s third grade class, obviously in an effort to be inclusive in discussions of famous or important Americans, they had the kids learn about a series of clearly carefully-selected historic figures. I have no quibble with George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, or Harriet Tubman, but included on that list is Cesar Chavez, who agitated for farm worker’s rights in California. I really don’t know how I feel about that. As the only Hispanic included on the list, it’s an interesting choice. And what is interesting is that the minorities included on the list are ones who were fighting the powers that be. Is there any minority who could be included who was not remembered mainly for struggling against white people for power? I’m not suggesting that these figures were not important, or noteworthy, but in terms of role models for today’s students, couldn’t the list include a supreme court justice? Or a successful military leader? Or perhaps even a religious or civic leader who worked to provide charity to people in their communities? These are not fully formed thoughts on my part, I agree, but I’d like to see a broader and ultimately more inclusive inclusive list.

And FYI

This link discusses an interesting museum in Eisenhuttenstadt, in the former east Germany.

And to close, here's the best news I’ve heard (yes, heard) in a long time for Generation Xers, from the Washington Post:

Is that Right? Loud music ruined baby boomers' hearing?

After years of being told that the loud music we listened to in our youth would make us deaf, we baby boomers can take comfort in a new studythat provides evidence that Led Zeppelin didn't permanently damage our eardrums after all.

Researchers at the University of Wisconsin School of Medicine and Public Health found that rates of hearing loss have actually been decreasing over the past decades. The authors suggest the improvement may lbe due largely to reductions in smoking (the cardiovascular effects of which can contribute to hearing loss) and better management of workplace noise. It's exposure to that kind of long-term, environmental noise that's most apt to harm hearing, the authors note.

The study analyzed data for 5,275 people born between 1902 and 1962, comparing the incidence of hearing loss in later years among those born earlier (the parent group) and a group of their offspring (a cohort roughly coinciding with the baby-boom generation). They found that as the younger folks advanced in age, they maintained good hearing far longer than their elders had as they aged.

From the news release announcing the January 15 publication of the research in the American Journal of Epidemiology:

"Generally people think that our world is getting noisier and noisier, but we found that the prevalence of hearing loss is decreasing," says Dr. Weihai Zhan, who led the study. "These results suggest that hearing loss is not a normal part of aging and there are things we can do to delay hearing loss."

In the news release, the authors note that short-term noise exposure such as may occur at a concert (or when listening to recorded music with the volume set to 11) generally causes just temporary hearing loss. As they note in the study, though, it remains to be seen whether frequent use of earbuds among today's young people may causepermanent loss of hearing.

I'm so happy to hear this news, I'm going to go dance around the kitchen to some White Stripes songs on my iPod. Really loud.

By Jennifer LaRue Huget  |  January 29, 2010; 7:00 AM ET