Turn on the Slow Cooker and Let It Simmer a While

While hanging out at this service thing with a bunch of people a couple of  weekends ago I witnessed tons of hugs, hellos, smiles and general all around friendliness. Maybe even a bit too much chattiness and not enough getting-er’done going on. But that’s okay.

photo-25 copy 9I’m near two women when one leans over to the other and says, “I love how everyone’s so friendly even though we all come from so many different walks of life.”

The other woman replies, “That’s so right! It’s like this place works like a great big crock-pot.”

The other woman agreed wholeheartedly.

I had to perform some mental gymnastics to stop myself from correcting her metaphor. I’m sure she actually meant to say “melting pot” not “crock-pot.”

Don’t take my word for it. Here’s what Merriam-Webster has to say about that metaphor:

melting pot 

1 a place (such as a city or country) where different types of people live together and gradually create one community

2  a place where a variety of races, cultures, or individuals assimilate into a cohesive whole

3 a process of blending that often results in invigoration or novelty

That term was first used around 1887 about immigrants to the United States as they assimilated, contributed and became part of the culture here.

To clarify, a crock-pot, or slow cooker, simmers or cooks at a very low temperature over many hours. This process tenderizes meats, rarely burns the food, and simplifies meal preparation and cleanup. It’s one of my favorite appliances.

Can you see why I felt a little queasy at the mixed up metaphor?

Imagine a big pot of melted cheese (with a side of tortilla chips please.) Mmm. I could go for some Queso about now, couldn’t you? That’s how I picture a melting pot. Everything blends together into one big indistinguishable gooey mass of deliciousness. There’s nothing that really stands out or looks different. It’s all good, but it’s all one flavor.

Photo By jeffreyw (mmm...veggie beef soup  Uploaded by Fæ) [CC-BY-2.0

Photo By jeffreyw (mmm…veggie beef soup Uploaded by Fæ) [CC-BY-2.0

I like the crock-pot image better for what my friend observed and tried to put into words.

After a day of simmering, whatever ingredients thrown into the pot in the morning still seem familiar and beckoning in the evening. Carrots, meat, potatoes, onions, peas, celery have spent enough time together enduring the heat that they’ve sort of shared flavors with each other along with the spices and broth in the pot. Lifting the lid on such a concoction sends out such an aroma of comfort.

Or maybe what you throw in the crock-pot is beans, rice, corn, meat, tomatoes, green or red chili peppers, onion and garlic. Ten hours of basking in the heat makes for melt in your mouth, warm up your belly wonderful nuances of shared flavors and mixed tastes. Nothing beats a big bowl of chili this time of year, with autumn singing its promising song.

Isn’t that what we want when interacting with people different from us? A little something of them rubbing off on us and maybe a bit of us making them a bit sweeter or spicier? Spending time together, even if only metaphorically, ought to make everything better.

Expecting a kind of total agreement and sameness sounds so boring and sad. Imagine cheese dip every single day, all year long, every year.

Don’t take my word for it. Listen to these wise words:

“Just as the natural environment depends on biodiversity, so the human environment depends on cultural diversity, because no one civilization encompasses all the spiritual, ethical and artistic expressions of mankind.” ~ Rabbi Jonathan Sacks

I love that idea! Pluralism really does define how society naturally works best. In case you were wondering the Oxford English Dictionary defines pluralism this way:


1 A condition or system in which two or more states, groups, principles, sources of authority etc. coexist.

2 form of society in which the members of minority groups maintain their independent cultural traditions. 

Reasonable, right? That’s what I think, too!

imagesWhat worries me happens when political correctness or peer pressure or social media onslaught demands conformity from everyone. Seems to me that insisting on complete and total agreement, drowning out differences of opinion actually takes away from the idea of unity that all those louder, bigger voices say they want.

Tension and repression and discord become the norm and actually kill off unity.

Some days I feel like I’m watching this country attempting to force a giant stew into a blender and turn it into baby food. Ick! Nothing delectable there.

Can’t we just simmer down and enjoy each other’s differences and work together somehow for a happy outcome?

The crock-pot’s set on low for a while.

I’ll bring a few loaves of fresh-baked bread, if you’ll bring along some butter.


Categories: good ideas, People, Politics? | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Hey, Batter Batter Swing! Tigers, Giants, Donkeys and Elephants

English: Line art drawing of a baseball field....

A baseball game. Four bases, nine players per team, an umpire and people watching on the sidelines.

  • The game that the pitcher sees is seen from the center of the four bases, facing toward home plate.
  • The game that the catcher sees is from behind home plate facing the pitcher.
  • The batter sees the game from beside home plate, at least while at bat. If he hits the ball his perspective will change rapidly, from base to base to base to home.
  • What the left fielder sees is not the same thing that the right fielder sees.
  • Short stop sees an angle similar to, but not exactly the same as the left fielder. And each base player has an angle unique to their position on the field.

And, sometimes, it seems, that the umpire is seeing an entirely different game altogether than everyone else.

And we’d be right to think so.

Because, he’s seeing the game from behind home plate, hunched over the catcher, with a batter on one side just ahead of him.  No one else in the stadium has that exact same view.

There’s also those observers of the game.  The game experience can be vastly different each time I attend. Sitting in front of a group of people who’ve had a few extra beers before ever arriving at the game, and then have steadily added to that amount as they’ve watched, will color my experience because I’ll get their unfiltered, fairly loud comments as a sort of spice to the game.  My team may lose, but I might walk away having had a hilariously entertaining time.  Or I could leave angry and agitated by the drunken fans.

And then there’s the kind of game.  A little league game is going to have a different feel and look than a small hometown high school rivalry game.  And the major league experience I have watching the Diamondbacks play in downtown Phoenix with the Chase Field roof closed, is going to vary significantly from watching the Colorado Rockies team playing at Coors Field during a rainstorm.

It’s all just baseball.  Isn’t it?

We’re talking innings, strikes, balls, outs, fly balls, runs, errors, home runs, mitts, bats, stealing, sliding, catching, throwing.  Basic baseball.

So many points of view.

And it’s just a game.

Here’s my question.  Okay, questions.  Who’s having the real baseball experience?  Which point of view is correct?  Is there a correct point of view? Can everyone be right?  Can every experience be valid? Is the pee wee game where everyone’s a winner just as “baseballesque” as the World Series?  Or is something in-between the two extremes the “real” baseball experience?

Am I just talking baseball here?

It feels bigger than that, but I haven’t figured it out yet. I don’t follow baseball.  I had to Google “world series” to see who was playing.  I think it’s more than baseball though. It feels like a political metaphor.  But I don’t talk politics.  I steer clear of controversy of all flavors. Any insight you have about why baseball is on my mind would be helpful.

I want all the answers, but I don’t think I can have them all.  I think I’m just one player in the game with most of my time spent on the bench, spitting out sunflower husks, making a mess of things.

I feel a little antsy hoping, worrying, watching.  There’s only so much I can do from my perspective out in the field or on the bench, or in the stands, or behind the plate.

Does it matter?

Sure it does.  To me.

And to everyone else.

What’s your perspective?

Categories: Politics?, Sports | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: