FAT BAN

NEW YORK (AP) -- New York on Tuesday became the first city in the nation to ban artery-clogging artificial trans fats at restaurants, leading the charge to limit consumption of an ingredient linked to heart disease and used in everything from french fries to pizza dough to pancake mix.

When I first learned of this new ban proposal, I didn't feel anger or joy, only confusion. Great- New Yorkers, famous for their restaurant food penchant as well as for their neurosis, will be able to feel a little bit healthier and a little more in control of what goes into their bodies when they eat out.

But banning transfats, to me, is a drop in the bucket. Sure, in the quest for improving the state of America's health, you have to start somewhere. But transfats aren't the issue but rather, a biproduct of a larger socioeconomic consumption dynamic that needs to be fixed.

This ban seems to be directed towards improving the healthfulness of fast food- McDonald's, KFC, etc. But for New Yorkers that make at least a decent living and eat at McDonald's once a year when on a road trip, or even once a month, the effects of the transfat ban are rendered obselete.

It is the New Yorkers at lower socio-economic levels who are eating from these cheap, low-quality food establishments on a regular basis. Take out the transfats from their fast food and they are still consuming- daily!- high fat meals that are poor in nutrition. But the food tastes good and it is really affordable, so they keep going back. It is a viscious cycle.

To me, that what really needs to change is eating behaviors. And changing behaviors comes from education. We (the people) need to educate ourselves on what is good and what is bad for us. We need to take some responsibility for managing our own personal health and also make strides to help those without the means to manage their own health better. No amount of legislation is going to save us- nor is any company- if we don't want to save ourselves.

Ponderings over a Tuna Fish Sandwich

Studies have proved it, but we all inherently know it- memories can quickly be triggered by a simple sensory experience.

Here I am eating a tuna fish sandwich, the anchoring element of my homemade lunch today (boring, I know). While I’ve progressed from Miracle Whip to Hellman’s and to brown bread versus white, the moment that I bit into it, I was transported back 25 years- to the Friday afternoons when I used to eat tuna fish sandwiches with my beloved cleaning lady and baby-sitter Margie, after I came home from morning sessions of Kindergarten.

Margie never really did much eating- she is a tiny bird of a thing and to this day prefers cigarettes to nutritional sustenance- but she would sit with me as I ate and lovingly watched reruns of the Mary Tyler Moore show. Back then, I used to want to be a cleaning lady when I grew up, just like Margie. But as I reflect on my life trajectory now, as an actual grown up, I wonder how much I was actually influenced by Mary Richards, the main character of the Mary Tyler Moore show.

Mary was a single woman in her 30s who moved to the big city of Minneapolis to “make it on her own”. While in this day and age, that doesn’t sound like such a big deal, it was a big deal indeed back in the 70’s when the show ran. Mary was the epitome of an independent woman and a type of character that hadn’t yet been depicted yet on TV.

Flash forward to the premiere of “Sex and the City” in the late 90s, which resonated so strongly with young, independent women from all walks of life. I wonder if this show - which I also loved so dearly - wasn’t just picking up from where Mary left off. What is interesting is that while Mary didn't define herself by finding "Mr. Right" (http://www.museum.tv/archives), at least 2 of the main characters in Sex & the City were all about finding a man (Carrie and Charlotte). Perhaps because they had already proven that they could make it on their own and be successful within their respective careers, going back to square one - finding a man - became their new frontier. Another thought is that perhaps the four female leads on S&C together represent the varying, often paradoxical, facets of being a liberated, powerful women in a big city in the new Millenium.

Worst Ad Placement, Ever.

I was quitely parusing chicken dinner ideas on cooks.com when all of a sudden a vertical banner ad for Lamisil popped into the peripheral vision of my right eyeball. Now you may not recognize Lamisil by name, but I bet most of you are familiar with its advertising. Please see below...



Lamisil has been running print ads like the one above, with a prominently featured, fungally-infected, yellowing toenail and a cartoon-like critter for years now. I think the critter is meant to represent the evil fungus, kind of like Geico and its gecko lizard, only disgusting. But, I have never seen Lamisil ads online. I have to say that placing one on a recipe page of a cooking site- a place where the page paruser is probably focused on the delicious food that she will soon be putting in her body- is really a terrible idea.

I am a Google lover. That doesn't make me unique, in fact I don't know anyone who doesn't love Google, or at least appreciate the company for its continually bringing innovative search tools to the internet. I actually can't imagine how I browsed the internet- and the world!- before there was Google...how did we survive?

I like that Google rolls out new search tools and services even while they are still in test. This makes me feel as if I am helping them to perfect their goods; that I am integrated into their system. Google has helped me, so I am happy to help them. And, doing so makes me feel a little bit like an early adopter, without having to purchase anything.

So Google is constantly updating and improving their systems and services and perhaps their systems will always be in a "test phase". I like that...everyone and thing is constantly evolving and improving, so why not be transparant about it, and make it a selling point....a company that is on its toes all of the time versus static.

I wonder, in moving forward, whether a certain element of their Gmail system will ever be tweaked and "improved"; whether anyone else has the same issues that I do with Gmail chat...

I use Gmail as my personal email account. Gmail has a chat feature built right into its email interface (if that is the correct verbiage). When you log into your email account, you are also automatically logging into your chat room. You can then see which other Gmailers listed in your chat room are online and able to chat or not (via red, green and orange light system).

I have never been a big Instant Messanger kind of gal. Maybe it had something to do with me not being able to deal (in good conscience) with yet one more form of distraction (to which I am highly susceptible). Or maybe the idea of signing up for another online account just seemed like an effort. Whatever the reason, I never really got into IMing. Gmail's chatroom is right there at my fingertips, no extra effort required.

But the thing with Gmail chat is that you have no ability to filter your contact list, because anyone who you have ever emailed, who is also a Gmailer, is on your list. I literally feel as if I am sitting in the same room with a bunch of different people with whom I have emailed for whatever reason at some point in my recent past. As you can imagine, some of the people within my list are closer to me than others.

This leads me to feel a mix of eagerness and awkwardness. If someone I have had minimal contact with has his/her green light on, I feel like I am caught in the awkward silence of a bad conversation. We can both see that the other person is there, but we have nothing to say. We shouldn't have to have anything to say, except for the fact that we are both in the same online "room".

I realize that I can easily change my chat status from active (green) to red (offline) or orange (away from gmail), if I really want to rid myself of the awkward chat room silence. But that would mean that actual Gmail friends would not know that I was available. And I don't necesarily want that, as I am always eager to talk to them.

Because I feel compelled to chat with my real friends, and at a much more incessant level than I would contact them via regular email. And usually it is for no reason. And, as you can imagine, I welcome their spontaneous, irrelevant chats to me as well.

It is kind of like the "I must make a call because I can" cell phone phenomenon--- that because you have your cell phone on you at all times, you feel compelled to take it out and give someone a call; to make use of your time most efficiently, or to just fill in "empty" time. The idea of doing something ordinary, like walking around town, without inputting some form of electrical stimulus (ipod, cell phone) into your system has become a bit of a foreign phenomenon.

I think that chatting is the parallel of sending an evite versus handwriting an invitation. Texting versus picking up the phone. It is just plain easier to chat; low hanging fruit. It is remarkable how low our thresholds can go.

But, I think that until Gmail makes any significant changes to its chat room set up, I need to make some changes myself. I am going to forgo a level of distraction in order to create a stronger sense of anonymity. I'm going to switch on my red light...I'm going to wait and speak when I actually have something to say. I'll be like a fly on the wall...I can see them, but they can't see me.

Following in the path of the gender difference topic...

This picture is from the Details magazine website. They coined the term "mantropy" in backlash to the metrosexual movement. They describe mantropy to be a cruel degenerative disease that sets in during the best years of a man’s life, causing the man within that man to slowly wither and die until the victim is literally a husk of his former self.

See, that is funny! So smart, insightful and funny. Why aren't there any womens' magazines like Details? I am female, but I still love its humor, its articles and topics, its insightfulness into the male brain, its useful lifestyle info (e.g. why you should find a restaurant you like and stick to it, how it's not ok to wear flipflops with a suit).

The writers at Details somehow manage to make fun of men as a means to communicating empathy and comraderie. When you read the magazine, you get the sense that they just want to give men on the verge of being cool a fighting shot. I love its "big brother-in-the-know" tonality. Picture Vince Vaughn in his "Swingers" days.

In contrast, womens' magazines just aren't funny; they aren't entertaining at all. They are more like self-help books, dispensing advice on how to lose weight, have better sex and better understand your man. They don't even have any stories beyond depressing (but uplifting!) human interest bits about women who had to cope with some ordeal.

While Details may feel a little bit like a boys' club, it's a fun place to hang out. Womens' magazines feel like support groups for women with neuroses and low self-esteem. If womens' mags represent insight into the female psyche, I am so scared! Honestly, I feel like these books perpetuate an image of women as being so NOT fun.

The thing about Details is that they know that as a man you think you've got it going on, but they call your bluff anyway. I don't think womens' mags feel like they can poke fun at women and call them out; perhaps they think women are too sensitive, and perhaps they are. But that doesn't mean that all we care about is a tighter tummy and how to make a little bit of food seem like a lot. The womens' mags are just so...earnest! In contrast, details has a cooler, "watch and learn" approach that makes you want to, well, watch and learn.

The only womens' book I have seen in the recent past that nears the level of smartness that Details has reached is Bust magazine. Bust is honest and funny, it actually has interesting stories, its subjects aren't just focused on health and beauty, which is a refreshing change. But, you get the sense that the people over there are a little unhinged, on the fringe, and perhaps a little angry at the world....like the girl who was an outcast in high school and never got over that but was able to qualify as "indie" as an adult. And that is fine, but you don't have to be so quirky or subversive in order to be cool. If you think of a magazine as a person...confidence, sense of humor, multiple interests, and good storytelling go a long way...

men versus women: the breakfast table

I have come to the general conclusion that women love and need breakfast and men, well men just don't. I don't know for sure why this is typically the case, but from personal experience, observation, and talking with other people, I believe it to be more true than not.

I love breakfast. I do. I am not talking about enormous weekend brunches, which I don't always love because they mean lazy, wasted days and that I will only get to enjoy two meals a day versus my typical three. What I love is weekday breakfasts, which are much lighter than weekend brunches and which are as much about kick-starting my system- mentally and physically as they are about taking care of my self.

Each morning I get up earlier than I technically need to (in order to get to work on time) so that I can enjoy a simple breakfast, paired with French-pressed coffee and if I have extra time, a look at the headlines or a flip through a tabloid.

I don't make savory breakfasts in general. My staple breakfasts rotate between three variations on the same general theme. In its most simple form, my breakfast will consist of a bowl of cereal or granola (or a combo of both) topped with walnuts and 2% milk, or a whole wheat english muffin with butter, honey and walnuts. In its most constructed form, breakfast will be a bowl of plain yogurt with honey, crushed walnuts, granola and dried cranberries (when on hand).

It is not that when I wake up every morning, I am starving for food. But, I am knowledgeable enough about my body's needs to know that after not eating for 6-8 hours during the night, I need a little refueling. More than that, it is about satisfying mental and emotional needs.

I fear the idea of being hungry mid-morning with lunch seeming to be far far away. I hate those hunger pangs. Maybe this fear of hunger is a remnant of my marathon training days, during which I was starving at all times. I hate the idea of being stuck somewhere without food...of being forced to go a long time without access to food. Maybe I am just spoiled and don't want to be uncomfortable for one single moment of the day. Possibly. It is also possible that I, we, are just primed to want to eat, to think we are hungry, since there is food all around us, everywhere....perhaps we don't even know what hungry is anymore.

The catch to it all is that when you eat breakfast, your metablosm gets kickstarted...so, you burn more calories, which makes you hungrier. But, I hate the idea of my body and digestive system laying dormant, as if it was still asleep...I hate the idea of limiting calories while your body conserves them versus burns them...I am an active eater!

Emotionally, it feels good to have a little morning ritual. It is little time for myself. I'm not a 40 year old mom who needs a "me moment" in the day, but I do appreciate a little bit of time to mentally prepare myself for the day. And, to feel like I am doing something good for body, while I awaken my brain with coffee and feed it with news (or gossip reading). It feels like I am starting off right, each day. And, it is not because I had a toaster pastry on the go. It is because I put a little time into my morning, to get it right.

So...I have blabbled on and on about me, and my breakfast ritual...because that is what it is...a ritual...but what really struck me the other day is exactly what I said at the get-go...women love breakfast, they create rituals around it, and men just don't.

I have talked to other women my age, and there are many others out there like me...it may be cereal, it may be peanut butter and banana on toast, or honey and butter on toast, but I know many women who take the time to have a small, specific breakfast each morning, and who have a ritual around it, whether it be at home or at work. But, I can't say that I know any men who take the time to eat breakfast, let alone to make it. The male concensus seems to say that breakfast is great if it is made for them, but if not- they'd preferable to get a few extra minutes of sleep.

I can't help but admit that I think there is a little bit of an evolutionary thing going on here....I think it goes back to women traditionally being providers, and having to worry about feeding themselves and their children, and rationing food, as a means of survival. But more than that, or in addition to that, or because of that, I think that women have a stronger emotional connection to food. We love to eat. We look forward to eating. We want to incorporate it into our day as much as possible, and to get pleasure out of it. And we don't want to feel bad about that.

5 years later

i don't fancy myself to be a writer with enough experience, insight and infinite wisdom to write, head-on, about 911. but i have had the experience of being in nyc on that unpleasantly beautiful day 5 years ago, and my own experience, or elements of it, is something that i do have the credentials to write about.

i was 24 on sept 11, 2003. that sounds like a very young age to me. i didn't realize how young i was at the time.

i had been called onto jury duty that morning, so i was quite close to the twin towers when the planes hit. i ended up getting out of having to serve, for the time being. when i left the court house, people were running by quite frantically and i really didn't know what was going on. I had just gotten a cell phone...back then, having one still wasn't a right of entry into modern life. i received a message from my sister asking me if i was alright, and i remember her saying how crazy it all was. i didnt have service and couln't call her back, and frankly i just wasn't clear on what she was referring to.

i found out soon enough what had happened, but i am not sure the magnitude of the situation really hit me until the two towers collapsed. and even then, not so much as it hits me now. truth be told, i had never given the twin towers any thought whatsoever before that point in time. in hindsight, i lived in a bubble. i probably still do. sometimes it is only when something disappears that you realize what you missed.

i didn't know where to go, so i walked north. back to my office, on hudson and houston. i remember stopping to pause on canal street, and i remember feeling like i was in a Die Hard movie. the towers looked like flaming candles and there was sirens and chaos on the streets. there was a car pulled over onto the side of the road with doors open, so that everyone could hear the news report. a black woman next to me sobbed "its terrorists!". still, nothing really sunk in.

back at the office, i made the necessary call to my parents to let them know that i was ok (sister was with them). for some reason my landline worked when others did not. i later joined some people staring at the one of the TVs hanging from the hallway ceiling. our creative director at the time had installed them to try and shake things up and add some energy to the office; we were an advertising agency damn it- look alive!

so there i was, about 1 mile north of the travesty going on at the twin towers and i was watching the scene unfold on CNN. i was even facing south. i don't know if i thought it surreal or strange at the time, but when i think about 911, this is this scene that usually comes to my mind. i feel guilt, as well as a lack of comprehension, about being so close to the scene of the crime yet so visually and emotionally distanced from it. At the same time that TV provides instant access and more complete coverage, it also keeps you one step removed from reality. If you watch hard enough, it almost feels like all the bad stuff you see is not really happening, or not happening to you at least. But I would be lying if I told you that distancing myself, consciously, was a motivation. Watching the TV for the next bit of news was what occurred to me.

The rest of the day was...hard to sum up...there was a long walk north to a friend's house in hell's kitchen, to get out of the foul air and smoke downtown....there were phone calls from friends in other states....there was guilt on my part for moving forward with previously-made plans to meet up with a high school friend for dinner at the corner bistro...it was guilt for being alive, and doing things that alive people regularly do...because this wasn't a regular day. the guilt thickened when we were seated next to another guy from high school who was getting a bite before he went down with another doctor to help out at the site. but what could we do but to keep watching the screen.