If You Belonged Here

Alice Gets Jack

(Polly: Surely you all remember the interview series? Well, this is a remnant of that. Alice interview Ramblin' Jack, and this is what happened:)

Alice: Do you still make pancakes with chocolate chips for Mrs. Poppins?

Jack: Yes, but not just chocolate chips. I take requests. I even do animal shapes.

Alice: Can you do dinosaurs? Specifically the T-Rex?

Jack: You bet! I once did an entire diorama of the Cretaceous–Tertiary extinction event. I made the Chicxulub impact crater out of blueberries.

Alice: Why is it that everyone wants to be a designer?

Jack: Because we're rock stars.

Alice: So you do a lot of drugs in your studio then?

Jack: I've given up the lifestyle and settled down. Now I only have the memories of my mis-spent youth, a few scars,  and a lingering infection.

Alice: How did you get the name Ramblin’ Jack? (try not to ramble on)

Jack: It's sort of an alter-ego kind of thing. The carefree, no responsibilities vagabond. The person I could have been had I turned left at the fork instead of right.

Alice: Are you saying that in real life your a Quiet Quincy?

Jack: The only Quincy I know was from a 70s TV series, and I see no parallels between myself and Jack Klugman, other than our names.

Alice: You didn’t really build that teardrop trailer from scratch did you?

Jack: Yes, I did. It's my own design.

Alice: What did Mrs. Poppins do while you were building that?

Jack: Polly helped some, but mostly just gave me space and listened to me blather on about it. Sometimes talking through a problem helps me think. Polly humors me and pretends to listen. She's the best.

Alice: Why teardrop then? Are you sad? Did building it make you cry?

Jack: That's just what they're called. I didn't name them. And no, I'm not sad, nor did I cry building it. Last time I cried was when Ellie died in Up. Absolutely heart-breaking.

Alice: Mac or PC?

Jack: Mac. I got my first Apple computer in '83 before there was such a thing as a Mac.

Alice: I was born in `83. Just sayin.

Jack: Does your mommy know you're using the internet? Just askin.

Alice: You’re reading Foreskin’s Lament by Shalom Auslander, right? I bet you love it so far?

Jack: The cover is quite fetching.

Alice: I'm begging you. Read it.

Jack: I will. We only have one copy and Polly and I read at different speeds, so it's awkward to read the same book at the same time. I'm actually already a fan of his from his bits on NPR/This American Life. Funny stuff.

Alice: Who does Polly like best? Probably me.

Jack: I think we both already know who's first. I'm second. Secret Lulu's third. You can all fight over the remaining slots. Please video tape it.

Alice: So, you can tell the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek, right?

Jack: I find your lack of faith disturbing.

Alice: I think I have a facebook fan page of the same name....

Alice: Do you want to host the next Mojo Party at your house?

Jack: Fine idea. No boas though. Polly hates cleaning house.

Alice: I think boas are non negotiable. AND even if Polly liked to clean house she'd be too busy the next day getting a late brunch with us so we would probably count on you for the clean up. AND you have a housekeeper so Polly can't be your excuse for no boas. How do you feel about ticker tape parades? (Not because we would have one but just because I'm curious).

Jack: Okay, at least get the non-shedding color-fast variety. And I generally feel that ticker-tape parades are frivolous and a waste of taxpayer money, especially if they occur in my house.

Foreskin's Lament

 A good laugh does wonders for our souls and if that good laugh comes to me as a result of another man's fanatically religious and obviously painful upbringing, well then, so be it.

Reading Foreskin's Lament by Shalom Auslander is nothing short of a crash course in fanaticism and its undesirable affects on the brain. Speaking of the brain, I've racked mine trying to write something that does this memoir justice and the truth is, it's not going to happen. A girl can't do justice to a book so wonderfully well written and easy to read, yet so far from her realm of understanding.

It is safe to say that fanaticism is something I was never taught, religiously or otherwise, and for that I am thankful.

I grew up eating bacon (traif, I now know) on Sunday mornings without the thought that it was the delicious result of a slaughtered pig ever crossing my mind. My grandmother took me to church on occasion, so long as I wore tights and chewed a piece of Trident to keep quiet until it was time to be released for the children's service. I didn't mind going because there were always doughnuts and orange juice afterward. 

Not to mention the fact that my mother would give me a one-dollar bill for the offering plate,  which I stole each time and used to buy candy at the pharmacy downtown.

I've never considered whether or not my parents are religious people. I suppose I always just assumed as much. After all, my Dad kept a sonogram photo of his and my mother's first baby, who didn't live, tucked in the pages of a massive Bible in his desk drawer. He told me one time that an image in the sonogram looked to him like the hand of God and so, I assumed that God was one he firmly believed in. Because my mother is married to the man, I went ahead and assumed she believed, too.

The thought that, "I was sick. I was diseased. I was a criminal. I was a Sodomite, an Amorite, a Hittite, a Sinite, a Givite. I was Cain. I was Esau. I was Lot's wife," has never crossed my mind. In fact, I'm not even sure what 80% of those words mean and the degree to which I'm not afraid of God being angry with me for Slim Jim consumption is likely as foreign to Mr. Auslander as those words are to me.

Throughout each chapter of Foreskin's Lament we get a glimpse of the ways Shalom Auslander's parents' belief in and practice of Judaism affected not only his mind as a child but, more interestingly, the ways those beliefs and practices are unshakable to him as an adult.  

The man has clearly mastered two things in his life: fearing God and writing about it.

I can imagine the frustration that must come along with a constant internal dialogue, but what I cannot imagine, for the love of all that is holy, is the fear. Fear of eating Cheetos, fear of loved ones dying, fear of a parent, fear of the act of circumcision. Fear of publishing stories about fear.

Auslander writes about a walk in the woods with his dogs and his wife, Orli, as she explains to him that the story of the old lady and the foreskin "sounds like bullshit." He calls for the dogs, worried that someone may be getting an early jump on hunting season, noting that without their orange safety vests they look like deer and writes, "If I could get one of those vests to protect us from God, I wouldn't even be thinking of circumcising our son."

I hate to say that I'm quite happy, for one, that orange God safety vests don't exist because if they did, my favorite book wouldn't.

 

Alice Measures Polly

 Alice: Why did you start If You Belonged Here?

Polly: I’m a very private person—aloof, secretive, and sarcastic—and the blog is an experiment in being more approachable without actually having to, Hank forbid, make actual human contact.

Alice: Where-o-where did you come up with the name?
 
Polly: I’m from New England and once upon a time at a wedding, Ramblin’ Jack was mentioning how half the street signs in my neighborhood are missing. My friend got this really sly, I’ll-let-you-in-on-a-secret look on his face and said, “that’s because if you belonged here, you’d know where you were going.” All of life is like that for me. I’m just trying to find my way around but someone has stolen all the signs.
 
Alice: Admit it, you made Ramblin’ Jack fall in love with you before he knew what hit him.
 
Polly: I’ve never denied it. I dazzled him with my smile, lured him with my wiles, and then sealed the deal with flannel pajamas. 
 
Alice: Do you think we will all win some sort of blogging award for being the hottest group of bloggers out there?
 
Polly: We definitely have the best profile pictures.
 
Alice: Am I your favorite?
 
Polly: Are you kidding? I’m my favorite.
 
Chance: Is this blog your one true love?
 
Polly: Ramblin’ Jack is my one true love. After that, I’ve got a soft spot for gerbils.
 
Alice: You’re the leader of this nonsense so does that mean you get final editing power over the entire team?
 
Polly: I only use my powers for good and I try to stay humble. But I admit that sometimes the power goes to my head.

Diosa: How are you keeping your sanity trying to organize all of us fabulous women?

Polly: I don't. I can't. So I stopped trying and decided to focus on the fabulous. And Chance. He's very helpful in a pinch.

Alice: If you had to keep only one of your posts, which would it be?
 
Polly: Darth Dateable. I think it’s solid advice. Once you go geek, you don’t go back.
 
Alice: Do you think Chance is a Save-the-Whales Zsa Zsa?
 
Polly: He might be a little more of a Save-the-Whales Michael Stipe. He seems less self-indulgent and more virtuous than the rest of us, somehow, while at the same time being just as self-indulgent and, well, quite prone to the naughty. I don't know how he pulls it off but he does.
 
Alice: Why don’t you have any pets?

Polly: I consider Secret Lulu a pet. But even if you don’t count her, we totally have a betta. And I’ve sponsored the adoption of no less than six webkinz.

But I can’t have a real dog or a real cat. I’m allergic to cats, but it wouldn’t matter. The food smells horrible and the poop smells worse. And sometimes they get diarrhea.

Alice: So, you refuse to eat at a buffet, huh?
 
Polly: I can’t eat buffet or cafeteria. I just can’t. The food is room temperature. It’s been breathed on. I’m suspicious of anything that comes from a vat. And maybe it's just a coincidence, but I mention diarrhea and that prompts a question about buffet? Of course it does.
 
Alice: Funniest thing you said this week?
 
Polly: I’m hilarious and I’m organized, but it’s not like I’m walking around taking notes on my own funny. I should probably hire a person for that.
 
Alice: Where do you wish you were right now?
 
Polly: At any given moment, on any given day, I’d probably choose to be at a spa doing spa things. In slow motion to avoid stress.
 
Alice: What would your mother say if she read this blog?
 
Polly: Well, she could read the blog but she doesn’t. I think that translates roughly into she’s already heard it all.
 
Alice: As an INTJ you cannot rest until everything is wrapped up, decided, and determined. That’s a quote. So does that mean you would have rather just written the questions and the answers to this interview yourself?
 
Polly: I want my house to be clean but I’d rather not do it myself. I like predictability but I’m not a micromanager. I prefer to sub out what I can.
 
Alice: You have a birthday coming up. Am I invited to the party?
 
Polly: Did you get me an expensive gift?
 
Alice: What’s your dream job?
 
Polly: Psychic advisor to Oprah. Or blues singer. Maybe both. But really, I'd like to be paid to attend spas. Not to review them or anything like that. Just to be there doing spa things.
 
Alice: Favorite movie, book, song.
 
Polly: If Lucy Fell, Shadow of the Wind, Close to Me.
 
Alice: What is your best INTJ characteristic?
 
Polly: I don’t have to be right. I usually am, but when I’m not, I’m fine with it. Unless the other person is wrong about me being wrong. Then I'm annoyed.
 
Alice: Being an INTJ means you’re not very friendly, right?
 
Polly: That depends on what you mean by friendly. But I’ll admit to disliking a sizable portion of the population. But only because they're idiots.
 
Alice: Where did you learn to do shots of Patron with such form?
 
Polly: The Marine Corps.
 
Alice: Do you love Foreskin’s Lament so far or what?
 
Polly: Everything but the genital mutilation.
 
Alice: If you had to be a celebrity, who would you be and why?
 
Polly: I’d be myself in celebrity form. Because I could keep my life but be fabulously wealthy, have more staff, and wear Valentino.
 
Alice: Most embarrassing moment?
 
Polly: Once, when I was packing, my vibrator fell out of a box and rolled across the floor. Of course I'd hired a moving company to do the heavy lifting, and of course the wayward item landed at the feet of one of the movers. And then the batteries popped out. I think Bookgirl might be able to top that, but not by much.
 
Alice: Proudest moment?
 
Polly: The vibrator thing.
 
Alice: One thing none of us know about you (except maybe Jack, but preferably not even him).
 
Polly: There’s a reason no one knows; I can keep a secret.
 
Pandora: I just purchased a candy bar. What was your last purchase?
 
Polly: Socks and underwear. Really.
 
Chance: Would you rather have a sex tape of yourself find its way to the internet or never be able to have sex again?
 
Polly: Too late.
 
Alice: How's the book coming along?
 
Polly: I’m on sabbatical.
 
Bookgirl: Never ending physical discomfort in the, lets say, hip or loud shrill screaming 20 minutes each day for the rest of your days?
 
Polly: I’ve kind of built up a tolerance for the shrill screaming and, in spite of it, I've become irrationally fond of Secret Lulu, so I’ll go with that.
 
Alice: You seem to have quite the educated opinion when it comes to birth control. What gives?
 
Polly: Everyone who is having sex should either be planning to use birth control or planning not to use birth control. But there should be planning. I cannot think of one manmade problem that would not be improved by the widespread use of birth control.
 
Alice: Rhode Island and San Diego. Biggest similarity?
 
Polly: The geographic footprint.

Alice: But seriously, am I your favorite?

Polly: I was being serious.