I Have No Complaints
People say this all the time, but they're seething on the inside with dissatisfactions and discouragements, little aches and pains, nagging resentments against their parents, their kids... Amazon Prime.
They have thinning hair, thickening waists, sagging flesh, they can't hear the high-pitched sounds anymore, but there's a mocking bird that squalks all night keeping them awake. What I think is that we need to voice all these dark realities, and do it until we bore ourselves to tears. Just be as cranky as you want, and let everyone else do the same, and sooner or later we all throw up our hands and realize that life is well worth any struggling we need to do to stay a part of it.
I live in a neighborhood that is becoming heavily infested with wealthy entitled young people, and it drives me crazy. Why, right next door to my beautiful 1920's Spanish-style building is a monstrosity of a home under construction...one of those places that takes up every square inch of the rather small piece of property it's sitting on. It's the tallest thing on the block, and now I hear there will be a roof deck up there. It's a structure that clearly mirrors the ego of the owner, a designer of baby furniture for children named Taylor and Madison and Riley. Why do they keep using last names? Why is that a thing? Is it supposed to be classy? Do they think these names will better prepare their children to go to Yale? I get up early every morning except for Sunday and leave my place to avoid the noise, which starts at 7am, and goes until 5pm. The other day as I was complaining about this unpleasantness I listened to someone say 'You're lucky it ends at 5pm, by law they could go until 7.' Is that supposed to make me feel actually lucky? Grateful? This person didn't laugh after she'd said that so I guess it wasn't a joke. This particular fact of my life is the main issue I complain about these days, and I just can't stop. Maybe soon I'll be able to take it all more in stride. I am squeezing in a 10 minute mindfulness meditation before I leave in the morning. I'm attempting to see my thoughts like colorful balloons drifting away in the breeze. That's what the voice on the recording says to do, but there are just so many damn balloons, and the air is very still.
But here in the neighborhood there are some things that don't change and they keep me grounded and on certain days can make me deliriously happy. All the palm trees standing around watching what's going on and not caring one bit. They are spiritual pillars with giant feathered hats on. One look up and I feel better. Just on the outskirts of this newly fancified area is eastern Hollywood, which will never be anything but its grimy authentic self. There is a market in a strip mall about a mile from here right on the borderline between rich and poor, though I doubt the shiny people go there. I've never seen a Mercedes parked in that lot, or a state-of-the-art aluminum jogging stroller in the place. It's full of things you can't find anywhere else... mustards from Russia, imported butter, jars of pickled eggplant, pita and flatbread still warm from the oven. The best part is the produce. This is always where I go for my fruit and vegetables. All summer long they have piles of real tomatoes...the kind that are ugly and misshapen. You know they're perfect on the inside. I can find blood oranges there in season for 69 cents a lb. They have fava beans and bins of walnuts and the very best dates soft and fresh off the oasis. Oh! The herbs! There is everything! Dill, cilantro, mint, basil, both Italian and Thai, tarragon, even a few things I don't recognize, but eventually I will. In my catering days I would leave with 2 or 3 giant bags of beautiful colorful produce having spent about $20. Last week I went and found dark red cherries, almost black, ready to burst. So yes, all the noise, all the problems deserving of complaint, it's all worth it, if only for the cherries.
Cherry Barbecue Sauce
1 cup fresh cherries, pitted and coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 tablespoon olive oil
½ cup pineapple juice
¼ cup balsamic vinegar
¼ cup apple cider vinegar
¼ cup maple syrup
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
In a heavy pan fry the tomato paste in the oil. Stir until the paste gets a bit darker and the aroma is strong. Set aside to cool.
Place all other ingredients in a non-reactive pot over a medium flame, stirring now and then. Simmer until reduced by half, about 20 minutes. Add tomato paste and stir. Sauce will immediately thicken. Remove from flame and set aside to cool. This will make about 1 ½ cups of tangy sweet sauce. Use this to marinate red meat or chicken, but only for about 2 hours. The enzymes in the pineapple juice and vinegars will actually break down the fiber of the meat if left too long, but it will tenderize a tougher cut like flank steak. Dab liberally on meat while grilling or broiling, and you'll find the flavor of the cherries will come through and make your life worth the struggle.