Since When Is Liberal a Dirty Word?

Inclusion and Charity, Farm-Style
Master mixologist (and cattle rancher) Schuyler was mixing up a great cocktail as everybody began arriving. He told us it was called a Rum Ramsay, and he made them with a rum that none of us had tried before, Kuya Fusion Rum, and each glass also had a teaspoon of bourbon mixed in, with a dash of Angostura bitters. We never have to be reminded that up here the limit is one cocktail. For us it's the socialization that matters, and the inquisitiveness of what a new cocktail may taste like. You've heard us say this before, that the amount of wine in our wine glasses is always very small because we have so many different kinds with our multi-course dinners, and naturally, the portions on our plates are always small.

Funny time of year, this. As we were gathered around the fireplace sipping our drinks, some of us began to express apprehension over the coming family visits. Sad, isn't it, that there has to be even a moment's concern about the stress of a family visit. Looking around, we wondered how it was that as many of us as there are in our group of neighbors, we never dread seeing each other; rather, it's the highlight of our days. Why do you thank that is, Jane asked? Why would we rather gather together daily with our neighbors, than look forward wholly to visits with our families?

Carmen, a Catholic, and Jim, her Pentecostal husband reminded us just to look at them as a family. They asked us to remember Cathy and Shelley, the two ladies who have the horse farm down the road: we don't have ever-present the difference in faith of Carmen and Jim, and we never, ever, think about the fact that Cathy and Shelley are a "same-sex couple" since for us they're just another couple down the road who breed beautiful horses with love and tenderness, and who lovingly cook for us when their turn comes up. Something else that "just wouldn't do" at most of our families' holiday dinner tables: other examples of our close-knit community of farming and ranching neighbors. We have Iraqi Muslims and Iraqi Jews; we have Jews from Israel; we have agnostics, we have atheists, we have Presbyterians, Anglicans; heck, we even let the dogs wander around the table as we eat, and if we're lucky enough while having dinner, we all thrill at the sound of a happy horse or two whinnying in the distance.

So, Charlotte said in her beautifully Belgian-inflected accent, we believe and live charity and inclusion, whereas many of our families, live only to battle people different from themselves.

Sadly, My "born-again Christian" Family Is The Worst
Stress. Stress? Well, it's easy to define it at this time of year. It's walking on eggshells, morning, noon and night. Never being able to express an honest thought without being buried by an avalanche of hate and exclusion.

Frighteningly secure in their own holiness, to the exclusion of the holiness of ALL other religions, these people scare the pee out of me when I have to be around them. Problem is, they think that they and they alone hold the keys to the kingdom, and that ALL the rest of us are doing straight to hell, so, how do you talk to a group of people who don't think and can't use reason in a logical, rational and scientific way? Their pastors are usually not very well educated people, and those pastors' flocks ordinarily have the brains you would expect of a "flock." You absolutely cannot talk with them with any degree of intelligence. No matter what you say, you're wrong because their pastors have told them that anything they hear that doesn't toe the line is wrong.

I'll give you one sad example of what seeing my "beloved relatives" is going to be like this year: my own sister is convinced that Katrina happened only, to the exclusion of everything else, because of the sinful ways of the people in New Orleans. She believes it right and good that her president has killed 100,000 Iraqi civilians and over 2000 U.S. troops, with tens of thousands of maimed, blinded, and amputated troops, for the sole reason that he "ostensibly" disagrees with abortion. She sees no evil in his using napalm, white phosphorous, or depleted uranium on the Iraqis. Why? Well, hallelujah honey, because he "publicly" condemns abortion although he's going down in history as the Butcher of Huntsville, executing more people than any other governor of Texas.

So, What's So Wrong About The Label: Liberal?
Well, if it means that you accept the fact that God loves everybody, nothing. If liberal means accepting all your neighbors, friends and relatives just as they are, well that sounds like a pretty good thing to be. And why, pray tell, are Democrats so afraid of being called liberals? They shouldn't be, since all the word means is that they believe in being charitable, noble, all-inclusive, accepting, loving, and willing to take care of the less fortunate.

Being liberal means giving human beings the right to make decisions concerning their own bodies. Being liberal means recognizing that good people can be different and still be deserving of everything good a human is recognized as needing in order to be able to live in comfort, dignity, good health and in proper shelter. Being liberal means recognizing that the über-rich are not the only people deserving of the government's concern and largesse. Gosh darn, sounds up here like being liberal just means being a good human being, as opposed to being a snotty, selfish, paranoid fanatic of the military-industrial complex, frightened by and uncaring of, the "masses."

A Break From Deep Thinking: A Banquet!
The teenagers were hungry, and we were ready for a change of pace and a change of subject. After a day of hard work on the farm and on the ranch, there wasn't one of us who could honestly say wasn't ready for a small feast.

Our pleasure began with Beatrix's Tartlets of Wild Mushroom and Fontina Cheese. She prepared them with a bit of dry sherry, and served us some cooled Fino sherry as a perfect accompaniment. Beatrix decorated the plates with a bit of arugula, which added a hint of the greenery we'd all be seeing soon on our mantelpieces and banisters. I think we've all become a bit Spanish, for we all love to try the "tapa-of-the-night."

Art, who moved here from Mexico, always surprises us with his variations on Chayote squash, and tonight delighted us with using it in a Chicken and Chayote Soup. What made his soup special was the addition of a bit of smoked haddock, which added a different dimension to an otherwise plain chicken soup. The combination was, of course, genius in a soup bowl. Art brought some chardonnay he thought we'd like with the soup, an Evans and Tate Chardonnay Margaret River 2004.

For the seafood course, Bob and Judy prepared some very simple prawns, fried with garlic, red chiles, sea salt and ground pepper. Served over a simple mound of fluffy steamed rice, their dish was simple but exquisite, as food should be. Prepared with a dry sherry, they decided to pair the prawns with an Hidalgo Fino sherry.

Quince and mango sorbet dollops effectively prepared us for the next course. These small dollops we serve may seem to be an affectation, but they really do serve a purpose. They serve as an interlude between the fish and the meat courses, and we have become so used to them we no longer think of the sorbet as anything but a normal part of our meal.

Max went to the pool house to put the finishing touches on his Grilled Lamb and Vidalia Onion Shish Kebabs. The olive oil and the balsamic vinegar made Max's grilled lamb special. On the plates, he served some perfectly braised spinach and artichoke hearts, and paired the dish with a delicious 2000 Domaine Chandon Terrazas de los Andes Mendoza Reserva.

For dessert, we had begged Carmen for several days to make us her famous flan, and she prepared them for us tonight. She and Jim were generous with their wine tonight, bringing from their cellar some bottles of 1996 Château Tirecul La Gravière Monbazillac.

Time With The Teenagers
Forgotten, for a minute, the stress of having to meet with family members who find fault with every other human being on the planet; instead: finding wonder in the kind and accepting faces of the next generation, and a sincere desire to see their generosity and belief in inclusion continue long after we are gone.

Stalls need cleaning, cows need feeding, and last minute chores still have to be taken care of, so we called it a night, fully satisfied with our meal, looking forward to communing with our animals, and wishing time to fly so we can soon gather again and enjoy each other's company.

Summary:
Liberal is not a dirty word or a word to shy away from: it's the best definition we can find for what a fine human being should be. One half the country defines itself by this honorable word, and if we set our hearts and minds to it, maybe we can convince a few misguided souls to the beauty of charity, inclusion, acceptance, and the honor inherent of caring for those unable to care for themselves.

©Copyright 2005 Grindstaff Chronicles. All Rights Reserved.
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Reprinted from The Grindstaff Chronicles Newsletter which is published in the USA by farmers, ranchers, and neighbors.

It is intended to share the thoughts and lifestyle of people who work hard, like to relax and enjoy life, and are often dismayed by news, politics, and the events of the day that defy common sense.
http://www.GrindstaffChronicles.com
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