Today's one of those introspective days when I wished I didn't have to interact with 80 students. This feeling is magnified by the fact that I have to have "a talk" with each class regarding etiquette and responsibility and so on. But, the good news is that with the chillier weather I can wear my fall clothes, and I love my look today. I'm wearing my full black anthropologie skirt that I bought in Ohio this summer when I was visiting my friends J-. J-, and S-. I've paired it with my favorite button down blouse, a crisp white with tiny black pindots that I bought 2 falls ago at the Ann Taylor Loft in Peachtree City (and which my aforementioned friend J- suggested would be nice with the skirt). I feel Parisian chic, which is heightened by my favorite Coco Red lipstick (nothing better than Chanel) and black heels. One of my students told me I looked so cute, just like the 1950s. All I needed was a vaccuum and some obscure cocktail like a sidecar in hand instead of a piece of chalk and a stack of papers to look the quitessential June Cleaver:)
At lunchtime I headed home straightaway instead of going to the YMCA because I needed to do my 75 minute yoga tape--I felt that Baron Baptiste himself was calling me to unroll my mat and work out the kinks that running has created. Something about the weather, the smell of the Nag Champa incense undulating through the cool air in my guest bedroom/study, and my reflective frame of mind connected me to what I can only call an autumnal sense. I felt moments of past falls swirling through my mind..."memories, through the corner of my mind..."
Tonight I went to see Ken Burns speak. I only had 30 minutes after class before the talk began, so I ate peanut butter (simply Jif) and jam (homemade raspberry chambord) on honey whole wheat bread in the car. Peanut Butter is another one of those comfort foods, evoking childhood when I enjoyed pb and j nearly everyday for so long that I had a decade long peanut butter hiatus. About the time I decided to be a vegetarian (1998) I decided to give peanut butter another chance, and since then it's been a quiet staple in my cupboard. Now, this jam I made tastes like pure raspberry--because it is, with only sugar and a splash of Chambord to amplify the fruity expansiveness. I love to spread it on yeasted waffles on langorous weekend mornings, though I haven't had many of those with my new schedule.
So, on to Ken Burns. He approached the stage and I thought, "He's so cute!" wearing blue jeans, a crisp white shirt, subdued navy patterned tie, and navy jacket. His shoes: a dark brown casual loafer, slightly shiny. He began by spinning a tale of the dawn of the Brooklyn Dodgers, and continued to cover his three biggies: Baseball, the Civil War, and Jazz. Such eloquence, and engaging storytelling...he repeated "listen, listen" throughout his speech, urging us to hear the stories that make us who we are. My favorite line of the night was when he was discussing the modern crisis facing America, and said that he is worried about the kind of fundamentalism that is eroding the separation of church and state "intelligently designed" by our founders. He nicely used the Katrina tragedy to segue into the power of jazz and improvisation to help us rebuild our world. I feel inspired and happy to be American, devoted to making this American life something amazing...