I haven’t been in a plane in quite some time (can’t remember the last time), and so I have that anxiety that comes when air travel is not a habit. I am trying not to pack too much. For a few hours yesterday, I resigned myself to the fact that I couldn’t bring my camera. But, I decided to fuck it and bring it, because I really feel lost without it.

I just finished a book by John Robison, which was actually a gift I had given to Matthew for Christmas. I borrowed it from him after he quickly finished it post-Christmas. John Robison is the brother of Augusten Burroughs and lives in Amherst. He grew up in Shutesbury, just around the corner from where I work right now. The book is his first and it is about his life with Asperger’s. It’s a quick and engaging read; I highly recommend it. If you do get it, consider the hardcover edition. The paperback edition that I purchased removed expletives so that younger people could read it and learn about Asperger’s, or just growing up different (and all the bullying that comes with it).

Now I am between books and don’t know which one to start. I’m thinking that I’d like to switch to fiction, so I am considering Andre Dubus III’s latest The Garden of Last Days, which I received as a gift. I also received two nonfiction books that are en vogue right now–Omnivore’s Dilemma and In Defense of Food. I heard about them at JBo’s tea party in December and put them on my Amazon list.

I also got Obama’s The Audacity of Hope, but I have already decided against reading it next. Something about reading Obama while in Chicago seems awfully cheesy.

I think I’ve settled on Ande Dubus III. I don’t know anything about the book. A perfect escape.

I won’t have any computer access for a few days as far as I know. Back on Friday night.

Following our trip to Brimfield, I spent some time in the kitchen, figuring out something to do with all of our leftover parsley. The great thing about parsley is that it costs almost nothing, it comes in an abundance, and will last a decent amount of time stored in the crisper.

We originally purchased the parsley to make this fantastic salmon recipe for Mother’s Day. A week later, there I was, looking up recipes in Mark Bittman’s How To Cook Everything Vegetarian.

I’ve been trying to cut down on high-fat foods these days, in anticipation of our vacation next month (next month!?!), and this recipe fits the bill as a nice substitute for a sandwich condiment, such as mayonnaise. I modified it slightly by using less olive oil than was called for (4 TBSP instead of 1/2 cup) and two garlic cloves instead of a one-half clove. I think Matthew would have rather I put less garlic, because as he says, I am more “garlic obsessed” than he.

The recipe appears as part of a clam entree in the NY Times, but stands alone in Bittman’s cookbook.

The above photo was unenhanced. That’s the true color of the parsley puree.

Memoirs don’t have to be to-the-letter perfect accounts of someone’s past. If that were possible, the only good memoir writers would have photographic memories. They would have to remember the dialogue in every single conversation they have ever had. They would also have to remember details about the people whose lives have become intertwined with theirs. After all, if Aunt Jane wore a red hat to church every Sunday, but you remembered it as purple, then you’d be doing a disservice to Aunt Jane, wouldn’t you?

No, not really, but The Smoking Gun would like to think so.

What TSG seems to have missed in all of this is that James Frey is a memoir writer, not a journalist. As more than one writing teacher of mine has said, creative non-fiction is 95% truth and 5% fiction. It’s an art form, not a form of reporting.

I suppose the only literary crime James Frey has committed is not stating the literary definition of a memoir. Perhaps he could have done that in his foreword to spell it out plainly for gotcha-happy people like the folks at TSG.

He can also be blamed, I guess, for becoming too famous and too rich too fast. Blame Oprah for having an out-of-control iconic status among millions of sheep who flock to her to tell them what’s good — to read, buy, see, watch, listen to, eat, drink, poop in — but don’t blame Frey. He was just trying to get a book published.

For some reason I ended up watching ABC News with Peter Jennings last night. I don’t know why. Anyway, Mr. Jennings revealed the shocking truth behind the Harry Potter series: it encourages kids to read, thus giving them headaches (a doctor at GW University named them ‘Hogwart’s Headaches.’) Fascinating. So kids are reading too much and we might want to put a stop to that. If they read too much, they might actually reach the level of proficiency needed to make it in the 21st century, and as an added bonus might even become life-long readers. We wouldn’t want that!

This ‘news’ story sickened me almost as much as those commercials for the Saving Jessica Lynch made-for-TV-movie. I ask, who watches this crap? (Although I’m definitely tuning in for the Elizabeth Smart story on CBS. Haha, I’m kidding!)