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In The Midst of Winter… An Early Easter Litany

Yesterday, March 10, I wrote this on my Facebook page. What follows is self-explanatory. Enjoy. May your heart be lifted.  – PB
Bostonians are beginning to say the word “snow” in the same tone of voice Ronald Reagan used to use for the word “Communist.” I’m in a howling blue mood, having slipped and fallen flat on my back on the ice late last night while walking the dog. Just a big bundle of aches and pain and a bothersome right arm and hand (with which I broke the fall). Feeling well enough to type and trying it out with this status. She’s up and typing! Please tell me something lovely about your day and feed my mean winter goblin soul.
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Steam and Chill: Feeding The Community In a Beautiful “Third Place”

I was in St. Pete Beach, Florida a few weeks ago at a clergy gathering and went out one morning to see if I could hunt down a good latte. My eye caught the sign for Steam at the side of the road. The font — yes, the FONT on the sign — communicated “hip, progressive, fun” so I pulled over and into the parking lot.  When I saw their tag line, “Sharing common grounds,” I knew I had found my “third place” in St. Pete Beach.

This is the sign on their door. It communicates a generous spirited welcome.

Breakfast all day. Free wi-fi. Open late.

Doesn’t that feel so much different than “Hours of Operation” or “No shirt, no shoes, no service” or “Please use the other door?” What does the front door of your building say? What does it communicate?

The interior of the place was warm, funky, and inviting with a womb-like color scheme. The server and the staff were extremely attentive and friendly and seemed to genuinely care whether or not I was happy with my latte. I was very happy with my latte. That’s a beautiful latte. It was also delicious.

I was very happy with the whole situation! And so Steam and Chill (the tapas restaurant the space becomes at night when it switches to dinner) became my home away from home for the few days I was in Florida. I ate every meal there. Isn’t that what you want people to feel about your church? and I spent hours talking to owner Ruthie Buxbaum one morning. She’s very special.

There’s never a rush at Steam. Ruthie’s menu says, “The philosophy of Steam and Chill is this: if you were planning a big party at home for very special guests, you would clean up all day. You would shop carefully for each ingredient & find the freshest produce possible. You would greet your friends warmly with enthusiasm. You would cook each item carefully and decorate it gently. You would be grateful to cater to their every need. … Then you would give each one a warm goodbye. And, if you’re blessed, they will come again. So, sit long, talk much, and laugh often.” This is a mission, people! On a menu! Is your church’s mission that loving, generous and explicit?

 

That’s the coffee bar and below is the tapas bar. Lots of fun to sit there and watch the chefs create the gorgeous dinner plates. I wound up having a wonderful conversation with a couple from Missouri one night over dinner and meeting them back for coffee the next morning. That’s my version of “picking people up at a bar.” They were wonderful, fun people and I am hoping that they’ll visit a Unitarian Universalist congregation when they get home. They had never heard of us and didn’t know there was a religious community in their area where they would be welcomed as liberal atheists.The cheese grits and eggs with andouille sausage was heavenly. Again from the menu, “Life always seems to happen in the kitchen. We find the Language of the Heart is often shared when we break bread together. So, know that we will strive to serve you with love & gratitude.”

And from the last phrase, “We are so grateful to welcome you to Chill.” A beautiful mission, delicious, healthy, affordable food, and a lovely space. An altogether inspiring enterprise and I feel very lucky to have discovered this little gem.

Steam and Chill specialize in vegetarian and gluten free dishes. Thanks to Ruthie and her family for nourishing me body and soul. My most sincere blessings to you as you continue to feed the community.

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Richard III Under The Parking Lot: “Now Is The Winter of Our Disinterment”

This whole Richard III thing has got me all jazzed up and put me back in touch with the intensity of my Shakespearean fangirl past.

I was an English Lit major at Northwestern and spent the first six years of my professional life teaching high school English. If I died tomorrow I might be most proud that I was the one to introduce the Bard of England to a certain small group of Minnesotan 8th graders in the early 1990’s.  Shakespeare must be seen and heard, not just read! was my motto, and so I invited actor friends to appear in my classroom with scripts in hand and to launch into scenes from the play with no introduction. The students would file into class and Patty and Stuart would simply BE there, BEING Romeo and Juliet. In love, pining, swooning, and making sweet literary love. I was the Nurse once or twice, I remember, fussing after Juliet and worrying about her secret marriage. The kids were transfixed. No one was late to class during that unit of study: in fact, they rushed through the halls to get there on time.

Parents called me and said, “I can’t believe it. He’s in his room reading this thing out loud. What did you do?” I’d say, “I didn’t do anything. Thanks Mr. Shakespeare. He makes great reading.”

My own real introduction to Shakespeare was a baptism by fire in 1982 when I was asked to play Hermia for a summer production of “Midsummer Night’s Dream.” I was 15, a sophomore in high school.  The company was entirely student-run and featured the most precocious theatre talent I was ever to know including Jase Draper and Jim Lamb, both now deceased. Jase, a successful actor who had an agent from the time he was about ten and worked out of New York City, has assembled a group of ridiculously talented peers from Fairfield County, and imported a few from Northwestern University where he was a student (a freshman, I believe). They were an extremely intimidating crowd and I was scared to death to accept the role but too thrilled to have been asked not to. I saw myself as the weak link in the cast and spent hour after hour sitting on my bed studying the unfamiliar iambic pentameter so I wouldn’t make a fool of myself alongside the likes of Jim and Jase and the amazing Ellen Reilly who designed and made all our costumes in addition to knocking the role of Helena out of the park.

“Midsummer” remains one of the most personally meaningful works of art for me and believe it or not, I have always seen Bottom as one of the most poignant of Shakespeare’s characters. Poor guy, making mad, delirious love with the Goddess in one moment — divine rapture! waited on by faerie attendants! – and then waking in a field the next with nothing but a vague memory of ecstasy and a foolish sense of his own gross mortality. Dude, I know how you feel.

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