{"id":1838,"date":"2004-08-12T01:30:00","date_gmt":"2004-08-12T01:30:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2004\/08\/12\/thats-my-answer"},"modified":"2004-08-12T01:30:00","modified_gmt":"2004-08-12T01:30:00","slug":"thats-my-answer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2004\/08\/thats-my-answer\/","title":{"rendered":"That’s my answer."},"content":{"rendered":"

Much to attend to. It\u2019s apero<\/em> hour, and I\u2019ve been eating edamame and drinking a chilly gin and tonic with lots of lime.<\/p>\n

David Byrne<\/strong>, like Nan Goldin<\/a>, is so very brave<\/strong>. He is so extremely odd. It makes me exquisitely happy to see how odd he is. Take a listen to \u201cAu Fond du Temple Saint\u201d on his newest album Grown Backwards<\/a><\/em>, and you will understand. It\u2019s Byrne-esque opera, for one thing, and he is singing loudly<\/em>. He may have perfect pitch, but it takes some kind of courage to push that voice to that decibel level. The way those strings build into the chorus almost brings tears to my eyes. Also, David Byrne is silver-haired, foxy, and stylish. Keats and I (and a horde of her relatives) are going to see him play at the Pier this Sunday. I almost cried when we saw him there in 2001. He is so odd, out in the world doing his own weird thing<\/strong> and making it work. Isn\u2019t that what we all want for ourselves? His lyrics sometimes sound like instruction manuals. He puts clothing on furniture and calls it art, makes it to the Venice Bienniale. David Byrne, I want to work for you. Or be you.<\/p>\n

In other quotidian news, I found myself in conversation today with a school friend who tells me that she has given up sugar. \u201cIt\u2019s toxic<\/strong>,\u201d she tells me, \u201cEven worse than drinking or doing drugs!\u201d Her eyes are wide, her tone insistent. \u201cDon\u2019t get me started,\u201d she warns. She\u2019s flailing her arms. She\u2019s taking cod liver oil.<\/p>\n

Now, we all have different bodies and different experiences of those different bodies. I know this, yes yes. Trite though it may sound, this body wants everything in moderation. Or usually in moderation. Usually. Food\u2014contemplation of, preparation of, and consumption of\u2014is a tremendous source of pleasure, both intellectual and sensual. From earthy Brussels sprouts to sweet green beans and crusty bread and gamey meat and runny-yolked eggs and barnyardy cheeses and cold apples and bitter chocolate, everything in its right place\u2014but everything<\/strong>. Sugar tastes good<\/em>, period, and it\u2019s wickedly fun to not obsess over everything that crosses your lips. I will admit to having found diet\/lifestyle guru Dr. Andrew Weil (e.g., Eating Well for Optimum Health<\/em>) pretty sympathetic, but I can\u2019t help but stray, no matter how sensible he is. He would look askance at the products of my weekend baking binges, and I just won\u2019t stand for it. So onward I go. There is so much to be baked, roasted, braised, eaten! I wonder if David Byrne likes torta di ricotta<\/em>. I’ve got the ingredients in the fridge, just waiting.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Much to attend to. It\u2019s apero hour, and I\u2019ve been eating edamame and drinking a chilly gin and tonic with lots of lime. David Byrne, like Nan Goldin, is so very brave. He is so extremely odd. It makes me exquisitely happy to see how odd he is. Take a listen to \u201cAu Fond du Temple Saint\u201d on his newest album Grown Backwards, and you will understand. It\u2019s Byrne-esque opera, for one thing, and he is singing loudly. He may have perfect pitch, but it takes some kind of courage to push that voice to that decibel level. The way those strings build into the chorus almost brings tears to my eyes. Also, David Byrne is silver-haired, foxy, and stylish.…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nThat's my answer. | Orangette<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/orangette.net\/2004\/08\/thats-my-answer\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"That's my answer. | Orangette\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Much to attend to. It\u2019s apero hour, and I\u2019ve been eating edamame and drinking a chilly gin and tonic with lots of lime. David Byrne, like Nan Goldin, is so very brave. He is so extremely odd. It makes me exquisitely happy to see how odd he is. Take a listen to \u201cAu Fond du Temple Saint\u201d on his newest album Grown Backwards, and you will understand. It\u2019s Byrne-esque opera, for one thing, and he is singing loudly. He may have perfect pitch, but it takes some kind of courage to push that voice to that decibel level. The way those strings build into the chorus almost brings tears to my eyes. 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