The Red Balloon

As I mentioned earlier, I went out of my way to read non-kids books while on vacation recently. One of the books I read was Anthony Bourdain's Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World of Food and the People Who Cook.

I don't have a full review but, rather, a Twitter review: So much fun but not quite as shocking or eye-opening as Kitchen Confidential.

What I insanely loved about the book was the following passage. Ever see the movie The Red Balloon as a kid? Well, I did. Repeatedly, every time we had a substitute teacher and it traumatized me every time. I blame my astrological sign (Cancer). Bourdain sums it up:

What exactly was the message of The Red Balloon anyway? Every time our teachers didn't show up, they'd haul out the projector and show us this supposedly heartwarming and inspiring story of a little French boy and his enchanted balloon friend.

But wait a minute. The poor kid is impoverished and clearly unloved. He wears the same clothes every day. Immediately on finding his balloon, he's ostracized by society, banned from public transportation, chastised at school, even ejected from church. His parents are either dead or have abandoned him - as the hideous crone who cruelly throws his balloon out the window at first encounter is clearly too old to be his mom. The boy's schoolmates are a feral, opportunistic bunch who instinctively seek to destroy what they don't understand and can't possess. In fact, nearly every other child in the film is depicted as part of an unthinking mob, fighting viciously among themselves even as they pursue the boy and his balloon through the streets, like a pack of wolves. The boy runs away, is assaulted, separated from his only friend - then reunites with it only to watch it die slowly before his eyes.

The happy ending? Balloons from all over Paris converge. The boy gathers them together and is lifted aloft. He drifts away, dangerously suspended over the city. The end.

Where's the kid going? To an unspecified "better" place - for sure. Or to a fatal drop when the balloons empty of their helium (as we've seen them do just previously).

The message?

Life is cruel, lonely, and filled with pain and random acts of violence. Everybody hates you and seeks to destroy you. Better to opt out altogether, to leap - literally - into the void, escape by any means necessary. However uncertain or suicidal the way out.

Hilarious and so true, right? After a couple mai tais on the beach, this was the funniest and truest thing I had ever read. In case you need a reminder, there's this:

It certainly isn't the first time I've disagreed with A.O. Scott. And to completely counterbalance that unjustified lovefest, there's this:

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Eat, drink, and put this on the shelf next to Love You Forever.

Did you just eat...Wilbur?

As my regular readers know, I draw lots of parallels between food and children's books, and I've pointed out countless times how the two worlds intersect in such odd and interesting ways.

Here is another one: Jennifer Armstrong's article, "Eating Reading Animals*", in this month's issue of The Horn Book.

Jennifer Armstrong is one of my absolute favorite non-fiction writers out there, anywhere, adult or children. Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World (Random House) is brilliant and was one of my go-to recommendations to reluctant readers when I was working in libraries. I can't recommend her books enough. And I will continue to passionately recommend them.

I had to say all that before I tell you that I vehemently disagree with the arguments she makes in the article and I'm certain my face went red as a beet** while reading it, puffing up with all the unspoken arguments in my head.

And this is probably where my new job position is a good thing: it's going to prevent me from going on a rant. This blog post is my protest and I'll leave it at that.

I'll give Jennifer (and the folks at Horn Book) this: as usual, they are provocative and interesting, inspiring debate and thought and argument. And rarely, if ever, do I consider that a bad thing. By all means, yes, let's talk to each other about ethics and food and books and our children!

Eat, drink, and please read this article. Have at it in the comments.


* The article title actually has a strikethrough on "Eating" but, for the life of me, I can't get friggin Blogger to replicate it.

** Pun totally intended.

Cooking with kids

Those of you who cook with kids must check out Kitchn's post: On Cooking with Kids.

It perfectly captures my own feelings about cooking with Bug and children in general. Why, because it's children, must so many kids' cookbooks be baking centric?! Kitchn's post has a great list of recommended cookbooks that don't dumb down food but are still kid-friendly.

Eat, drink, and encourage our kids to do the same!

Two-year-olds: Plop them in front of the TV and give them a Coke!

According to this article, the French government is no longer allowing its TV stations to air shows aimed at children under 3 years old. Apparently, there are entire channels (BabyTV* and BabyFirstTV) dedicated to programming for the under-3 set, 24 hours a day. I had no idea this 24/7 baby programming existed until I read this. The odd thing is that these channels are available through satellite, which the French government actually can’t ban. So French households will still be able to access BabyTV. However, what the ruling does is prevent French stations from promoting the channels or any other shows aimed at very young children.

I have mixed feelings about this. For one, I’m against government legislating the way in which people should parent their children; they’re integrating themselves into households in a scary, Big Brother sort of way. Not to mention that you can’t legislate good parenting. Do you really think that just because parents won’t be able to use BabyTV as a babysitter they will, instead, spend lovely quality time with their children? Ummm, somehow I doubt that. Why do I suspect that they’ll either 1) find some other activity to keep their kids out of their hair, thus not spending more time with them, or 2) they’ll still park their kids in front of the TV, only watching something wildly inappropriate for their age range?

On the other hand, it’s frightening when Big Business starts treating young children as consumers. There’s a whole hook-‘em-when-they’re-young mentality to all this baby programming that sends up red flags all over the place for me. And if their parents aren’t going to look out for their best interests (and, really, preventing very young children from watching TV for hours a day is in their best interest), isn’t it up to society-at-large to take care of them? And society-at-large is certainly going to be affected when all these TV-fed children are unleashed into its folds. Stations like this do not exist for the good of the children, as much as Big Business and some parents would like to think so. Instead, they exist for the convenience of the parents and to create consumers.

Ultimately, I feel channels like BabyTV are a symptom of a bigger problem, which is the consumer-frenzy that has gripped the world. And I’m all for slowing down a bit and keeping things within reason. Let’s put a stop to seeing our** children as nothing but future consumers.

* Not only can you get BabyTV through satellite on your set, but you can also get it online (sit your kids in front of the computer!) and you can also listen to Babio (baby radio) on their website. I don't know, but it just doesn't seem right to be streaming like this with young children. Let's just hook 'em up to an IV!

** I use "our" in a very collective sense because, as most of us know, we're affected on a daily basis by other people's parenting decisions. So those who don't have children should still care very much about this.

Indulging in a classic

Have you ever felt so excited about a Friday night that you just didn’t know what to do with yourself? The world is about ready to burst into bloom and you have a weekend ahead of you, full of promise. I don’t have plans this weekend and I’m just tingling with the excitement of doing everything and nothing.

In our house, Friday night is “TV Dinner Night”. We usually ban eating meals in front of the TV, but we do allow it on Friday nights and have made a ritual of it. Naturally, my dinners reflect our change of venue. Tonight, I brought back an old favorite from my childhood: grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. My dad used to make them all the time when I was a kid, and I have the fondest memories of eating them. Then I went through a binging-dieting phase from about 14 years old through 30 years old…and, sadly, never had a grilled PB&J during those years because, you know, peanut butter was evil. But no longer. Tonight I had my first grilled PB&J in 18 years…and it was every bit as satisfying and rich and pleasurable as I remember it.

And, no, I didn’t document it with a photo. Some moments really shouldn’t be interrupted by a clicking camera and worries about the lighting.

So I entreat all of you to indulge a bit this weekend with a forgotten classic from your childhood. Remember that the week starts fresh on Monday – get back on track then. For now, though, enjoy.