I had an interesting conversation today about whether elite athletes should be expected to be role models, even if they’ve made it clear they want to keep their personal lives private. Does fame automatically make someone accountable to the public? Do we have a right to scrutinize their choices just because they’re successful?
Then there’s the bigger question: If someone never claimed to be a role model, should they still be held to that standard? Is it fair to blame them when parents point their kids to celebrities instead of setting the example themselves? Public figures, whether athletes, actors, or politicians, are still just people. They have flaws, struggles, and personal issues like anyone else. And again and again, we see what happens when they’re placed on a pedestal. No one has met that impossible standard except Jesus Christ.
At some point, we have to accept that people will act according to who they are, not who we want them to be. Holding them to unrealistic ideals leads to disappointment. Instead of demanding perfection, we should focus on recognizing each other’s humanity, flaws included.
We also need to separate achievement from character. You can respect an athlete’s performance or an artist’s talent without treating their personal life as a model to follow. No one gets it all right. Instead of looking up to people because they’re famous, perhaps we could learn from those who live with consistency, honesty, and purpose. Celebrate the ones who lead by example, even without a spotlight.
Who hasn’t gone to an eatery and ordered something absolutely delicious only to find out that our stomachs (or our spanx) simply will not allow us to finish it? Sure, we stopped asking for “doggie bags” because (1) Doesn’t the dog have it’s own expensive food and (2) Fido will never see this plate. Instead we ask for a “to go” box.
So, I’ve managed to get the food out of the restaurant, now what do I call it? Leftovers sounds, hmm….callous. It just doesn’t do my dish justice.
On Sunday, my extended family gathered to celebrate the birthday of my cousin. She is an amazing young lady that I am a bit proud of, but I digress. We all gathered at a restaurant named Made in Asia and had great meal. It did not take long for me to realise that there was no way that I was going to finish my lovely plate of Thai Basil Fried Rice Fried rice with fresh Thai basil leaves, bell peppers & string beans (so yummy).
The upside of my dilema is that I now had a wonderful lunch for Monday. I could barely wait until it was time for me to liberate the flavors gathered from the night before. I was glad to see the microwave was fresh, free and waiting for me to heat things up. So, given my feelings, there is no way that this was “leftover” . I dub this meal, Dinner, The Sequel.
I love to order from a menu. I’m good at it, but every once in awhile you have to eat at home. Tuesday was that type of night. With a limited budget and even more constrained skills I entered the local grocery store in search of ingredients.
In this instance, I think it is pertinent that I say that I live in the rural south but I know nothing about “down home cooking” except how to eat it. So when I saw that my local grocer was putting a line of feta cheese on clearance because they were going to stop selling it last week I was glad (for the bargain) and sad (because now I’m going to have to drive a bit further for feta). So, I knew that dinner would probably star my cheese find from the week before.
First stop was the produce department. My son, (a young teen with a similar pallet) spies the grape tomatoes and they are on sale (about $2.50). Okay, I think, but if there will be tomatoes, then I must have fresh basil (not on sale but doable at $2.79). Now we are going to need a protein. I found fresh chicken breast tenders on sale for $3.51. Perfect because they will cook up quickly and it’s getting late.
So after a rather long commute and a trip to the grocery store, I saunter into the kitchen without a hint of a recipe or a plan. The only logical thing to do is….wash the produce and prepare my pasta water. Maybe an idea will solidify as I prepare the veggies. So I wash my produce and then open the chicken to give it a good rinse as well. I put it in a bowl of salt water to wait for further action as I cut the tomatoes. When the tomatoes are done, I turn my attention to the chicken and pasta. I place about a half pound of vermicelli into the oiled and salted boiling water and I remove the tenders from the water and place them on wax paper to season. I take out the sea salt, peppercorns, cumin, and oregano from the spice cabinet and coat both sides. In my skillet I pour a healthy amount of olive oil and turn the temperature up. It is at that moment I realize that I had forgotten the garlic so I pull out 3 small cloves and quarter them and throw them in the oil. Just as they had begun to cook, I added my chicken tenders, frying them on both sides until a golden brown. Once they are done, I remove them and the garlic from the pan and place them on coffee filters to drain.
I look in the frying pan and I have oil and the crispy bits of chicken so I add about a tablespoon or so of butter and grab the white wine from the cabinet. They steam up in the pan and I throw the tomatoes in. As their skins begin to wrinkle a bit, I toss the cooked pasta into the mixture along with my fresh basil. The pasta/tomato combo is then placed in a casserole dish with the chicken layered on top. I crumble my feta in last, close the dish and call the family to the table (I know how long it takes them to come when called so the feta had a good chance of beginning to melt). We all put some on our plates and even my hardest to please pallet seemed satisfied. My mom asked me what it was called…I still don’t know.
It’s that day. The one where I make the effort to bring my lunch trying to stay on track with my “spending plan” (Thanks Dave Ramsey). But I am hungry hours before so I ate it as a snack. Then lunch time rolls around and I just finished talking to a lady from customer service about the practice of not telling someone exactly when a trial ends is, well, wrong and how I need her to fix it (compromise reached). I need to break out of my office and I need a treat. But what about money and “the plan”?
Enter one of my all-time favorite gifts: The Gift Card. On days like today, the ones between bills paid and I’m paid, I reach into my stash for my guilt free pick-me up and I found my Starbucks gift card. Yea! I zipped down to see my local barista and ordered this lovely Black Shaken Iced Tea (southern style). Work may now resume.
This weekend I was introduced to Brio’s in celebration of my cousin’s birthday. It is one of her favorite places and I really enjoyed my food but if and when we return I am going to order what my son had. It was as light and tasty with fresh basil, angel hair pasta, and sweet red peppers.
I fully expected to be regaling about the sumptuous spread on a class reunion dinner cruise but that wouldn’t be right. Although there were numerous offerings on the menu it paled in comparison to the fun I had catching up with my classmates.
While we were talking and I was sipping on a $5 ginger ale, the subject of Northern Neck ginger ale came into the conversation. I am not sure of the reach of the soda brand, but whenever I see it, I buy it. This brand is more ginger than ale which sets it apart. This is no quiet mixer that needs to be propped up like the looker with no personality. No, this ginger ale shows up like the quick witted stunner everyone wants to sit beside at the dinner party. It never disappoints and if it is pared with other ingredients, it brings out the best in them without disappearing into the background. My cousin makes a punch with it that is always a hit. I just wish I could get it closer to home.
