Don't look at the postcard
“Comparisons
are odorous.” –
William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing,
Act III,
Scene V
Let me just suggest something to you. There
are very few things that I know for sure in life, but this is one of them: When
a recipe states at the top of the instructions that it “depends on skill
level,” it might be time to walk away.
Oh, if my 3-year-old only liked rectangles
or squares, or even circles, I would be so happy. Note to self: introduce her
to the happy solid-colored art of Alexander Calder or,
better yet, Kasimir Malevich (see
illustration). I could probably do a respectable Jackson Pollock cake, too. (And if
you go to that Jackson Pollock link and put your cursor on the screen, you can
create your own Jackson Pollock! Left click on your mouse and each time you do, you'll get another color...)
I pushed past panic to the questioning
stage: “What on earth was I thinking?” There were no answers, so I pushed on to
the denial stage: “I think it looks good.” After denial came blaming: “If you
had printed the picture bigger, I could tell how to lash this pretzel ladder on
and attach the melting Fruit Chew ladder.” Blaming was followed closely by
hysteria: “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET TO INGLE’S IMMEDIATELY FOR SOME
CUPCAKES SO THESE POOR CHILDREN WILL HAVE SOME SUGAR TO CONSUME AT THE PARTY!”
Shame came next: “I cannot possibly take this monstrosity out in public.” Then
resignation and acceptance: “Tess is three. Her friends are three. What do they
care?”
It
was an exhausting day in my apron. Tess napped as I completed the decorating,
twirling the green Fruit Chew hose into its resting place atop the truck,
placing the licorice running board, icing the windows white. When she woke up,
she ran into the kitchen. “WOW!” She loved it! And she got on her little ladder
to see it close up; I was nervous—would she touch it and ruin it? She picked up
a yellow M&M (not in my color scheme) and, as if in slow motion, her hand
moved toward the cake. I stifled a “NO!” as she pushed it into the side of the
cake. “LOOK! A BUTTON!” She spent the next 10 minutes decorating to her own
satisfaction. I bit my Martha Stewart tongue.
Twenty-four hours and some dozen failed
pretzel ladders later, the big moment arrived. Tess and a few of her tiny
friends joined the very fabulous members of Engine Company Number 1 for a
special tour of the firehouse, sitting in the fire trucks, watching Tess’ big
sister Emma try on fire fighter gear, and getting firefighter badges. Then we
walked to a nearby children’s museum for play and sugar.
nted to her M&M decorations, she
pranced and danced and twirled, exclaiming her part in the cake to all her
38-inch-tall friends. Once they figured out that the dirt was made from Oreos,
it was all over. The fire truck was demolished and eaten in 8 minutes flat, leaving
only Fruit Chew hub cabs and a Dalmatian doggie candle on the tray.
Walk
away. Run.
I
burned up the motor in my mixer on the first batch, requiring me to run to Best
Buy and pick up that nice Kitchen Aid mixer I had always wanted. I figure the
gingerbread project, once I added in all the equipment, the mixer, and supplies,
was a good down payment on a new car. We found a pattern, requiring us to cut gingerbread
dough into 1,218 pieces of intricate wall sections, bake them, and magically
piece them together. After baking, we had no idea how to glue the pieces
together. (By the way, gingerbread doesn’t remain perfectly flat while baking,
in case you were wondering).
At around 3 a.m., we decided that it would
be a project about castle ruins. This decision was further underscored when in
a split second, our dog Blue ate the northwest corner of the structure. After
watching these proceedings for about 20 hours, Blue performed like an NFL
linebacker, studying the field until the opening appeared, lunging for the hole
in our defenses.
“It is almost impossible (to see) because the Grand Canyon, the thing as it is, has been appropriated
by the symbolic complex which has already been formed in the sightseer's
mind. Seeing the canyon under approved circumstances is seeing the
symbolic complex head on. The thing is no longer as it confronted the
Spaniard; it is rather that which has already been formulated--by picture
postcard, geography book, tourist folder, and the words Grand Canyon. As a result of this
preformulation, the source of the sightseer's pleasure undergoes a shift.
Where the wonder and delight of the Spaniard arose from his penetration of the
thing itself, from the progressive discovery of depths, patterns, colors,
shadows, etc., now the sightseer measures his satisfaction by the degree to
which the canyon conforms to the preformed complex. If it does so, if it
looks just like the postcard, he is pleased; he might even say, ‘Why it is
every bit as beautiful as a picture postcard!’ He feels he has not been
cheated. But if it does not conform, if the colors are somber, he will not be
able to see it directly; he will only be conscious of the disparity between
what it is and what it is supposed to be. He will say later that he was
unlucky in not being there at the right time. The highest point, the term
of the sightseer's satisfaction, is not the sovereign discovery of the thing
before him; it is rather the measuring up of the thing to the criterion of the
preformed symbolic complex....”
Go ahead, make the fire truck cake. Don’t settle for what’s easy—go for the Eiffel Tower sculpted from
marshmallows, the class project made completely from gingerbread cut and baked
into intricate, crenulated towers, the science project created entirely of
licorice and white chocolate shavings. Why settle for easy?
This reminds me of John Daniel's, "The Impoverishment of Sightseeing."
Posted by: Kurt | 19 June 2006 at 19:56
Kurt - I don't know that essay, but it sounds intriguing - thanks so much for the reference. I'll definitely take a look...
Posted by: patti digh | 19 June 2006 at 20:16
What a beautiful article Patti! Instead of settling for what's easy, you challenge us to do what's hard and more memorable. AWESOME suggestion! Thanks Patti! Now to find that big hairy audacious goal that I've been running from. :)
Posted by: Phil Gerbyshak | 19 June 2006 at 22:23
Absolutely...this insidious comparison really DOES rob life of a certain satisfaction...there are so many "postcards" now--wedding shows, birth shows, shows on the perfect party, meal, dessert, lovemaking position...you name it! Every aspect of life has been professionalized and airbrushed by a team of experts, and yet we're expected to emulate them perfectly. How can we possibly do so and retain any enjoyment? This leads to the idea that it's better to let the experts do their thing, and not bother with anything new unless we can prove that we'll be proficient at it.
Ahem, as you can see...you hit a nerve. Great GREAT posting...and your cake looked wonderful too!
Posted by: Mardougrrl | 19 June 2006 at 22:44
Phil - Thanks for your note! I love the image of you running from that goal!
Posted by: patti digh | 20 June 2006 at 07:54
Mardougrrl - you're absolutely right at the numbers of postcards we're confronted with these days and your insight about not trying unless we're good at something is right on target...hadn't thought of it that way. That's it - exactly! It keeps us from venturing into new waters, this fear of failure. Thanks for the food for thought!
Posted by: patti digh | 20 June 2006 at 07:56
LOL, the dog ate the corner of the castle. Ha! I can just see his brown-beaten apology. Wha? Bad dog? Grumble, grumble. I'll never figure out these people.
I knew the little one would love the firetruck. But we all get MArtha Stewart style fixations by times. Just living and laughing, that's the real deal. Life will serve this lesson often...(smile)
Posted by: Pearl | 20 June 2006 at 09:31
Patti, wonderful story!
Posted by: Steve Sherlock | 21 June 2006 at 19:45
Great post, Patti. And I *love* the graphics!
: )
Posted by: Ann Handley | 21 June 2006 at 23:33
patti-- you have given me a laugh this morning as i recall similar experiences from my own past baking distresses. i think it must be a universal experience, especially for those of us who have raised children. i loved the gingerbread story! thanks for sharing-- jylene
Posted by: jylene | 22 June 2006 at 07:55
What a cute cake. I love the look in your daughter's eyes as she looks at it. You're so right that comparisons with perfection usually get in the way of 'real' life.
I've always to prefer learning a skill as I need it. Like learning to sew by making my bridesmaid's dress for my sister's wedding. It certainly helped that I found a wonderful older woman to walk me through the process. The downside are the unfinished projects littering my house...
Posted by: OTRgirl | 22 June 2006 at 15:21
Patti,my daughter,Jylene has been sending me
your writings and I always enjoy them. But this one particularly hit home.I'm no expert by any means but she and I have managed a few Gingerbread houses and for the past 4 years I have organized a Gingerbread house contest at the library where I work .I have even given a couple demonstrations to get the event started.Most people find it less difficult than they had thought and it is always fun to see the creative results, especially with the first timers. There is nothing that can compare with the light in
a childs eyes, as they bring in their finished masterpiece. My idea has always been to enjoy the process of creating, as much as the end result,and,although I admit to having shed a few tears of frustration,
for the most part, I feel the creation was as much about treasured memories,as any "Martha Masterpiece". I now have a whole new batch of grand children and great grand
children to teach the joy of creating.
Janey
P.S.Just this morning,I saw a piece on t.v.
about the Grand Canyon. They said the average tourist spends 15 minutes at the site on their way to somewhere else. They stop,look,snap a few "post cards" and drive on. Pretty sad. Now there is food for thought and another essay.
Posted by: Janey Davis | 22 June 2006 at 19:18
wow, patti.
when i needed help with writing, i used to open up the bible and point randomly at a section - and invariably, the part i pointed at would relate to what i was trying to communicate, and would jolt me out of block.
i've started to think that way about your site. i haven't visited in a while (not sure why), but today i needed some calm, so i came.
the challenge made me cry. i needed to be told to do the most difficult thing, because that's where i'm at and i was losing steam and faith in myself...but you made me feel like someone was watching.
thank you so much for that. i can't tell you how much it helped. your beautiful words were a lifeline to someone this morning.
Posted by: bee | 24 June 2006 at 09:00
Thanks so much to everyone who has commented - I appreciate your very kind words, and am happy that you found something meaningful in my words! Your images and stories are a real gift to me, too!
Posted by: patti digh | 26 June 2006 at 18:13
Bee - I'm so glad you found the lifeline you needed at the time when you needed it...!
Posted by: patti digh | 26 June 2006 at 18:14
Jylene - wow. your comment about the "15 minutes at the Grand Canyon" is really amazing. I've traveled all over the world and have never seen the Grand Canyon--it is first on my list of "must see's..." if my husband is reading this, a trip to the Grand Canyon would be a lovely birthday gift.... ;-)
Posted by: patti digh | 26 June 2006 at 18:16
What always amazes me, Patti, is your ability to take these seemingly mundane subjects and make them into something so deep and true. I usually start out with the deep and the true and try to make sense of it, but after reading your stuff for the past few months, I have to wonder if I don't have it altogether backwards.
Posted by: Felicity | 28 June 2006 at 11:42
Patti-
You've obviously gone amiss...the dog is clearly not a dalmatian. :D I do applaud your dedication to your daughter's passion for firetrucks and all things firefighter.
Posted by: Dan | 11 July 2006 at 10:27
Patti-
You've obviously gone amiss...the dog is clearly not a dalmatian. :D I do applaud your dedication to your daughter's passion for firetrucks and all things firefighter.
Posted by: Dan | 11 July 2006 at 10:27
wow.
Posted by: joana applegate | 14 May 2007 at 03:12