legacy

#WWRBGD – Day 677

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Photo: L.Weikel

#WWRBGD

What a blow to our already stressed collective psyche. I’m referring, of course, to our loss this evening of the iconic Ruth Bader Ginsburg, second female Supreme Court Justice of this United States of America, to the unrelenting ravages of cancer. As soon as the world knew of her passing, my phone lit up in reaction to the profound grief so many of my friends, family, and colleagues are feeling in this moment. It is as if 2020 refuses to relent. We’re being pounded into submission, forced to face head-on the stark reality – and profundity – of the choices facing us. And in the face of our grief, in the face of these choices, I ask: #WWRBGD?

Let me be clear: I am not being glib or cute in asking the question. Perhaps asking the question in the form of a hashtag lends it a more pedestrian patina than I’d like, but I actually think the fierce, dynamic champion of human rights would chuckle. After all, she embraced her status as ‘the Notorious RGB,’ and she undoubtedly knew of the hashtag #WWJD. It seems only fitting that #WWRGBD take its rightful place as a question the answer to which might guide our actions in the days to come.

I ask the question, #WWRGBD, because it is too easy for us to get lost in grief and lose our focus on what’s truly important. Yes, her life had historic significance and impact. And goodness knows, she fought an Herculean battle to remain on the bench until, ideally, a new president could be elected.

But it wasn’t meant to be.

We Must Not Give Up

And when I consider how tenaciously she fought throughout her life, not only for equality, fairness, and justice under the law, but also to model collegiality, open-heartedness, integrity, and grace, I cannot imagine us demeaning her efforts by giving up the fight to soundly defeat Donald Trump and his enablers in the House and Senate.

We must not give up. We must not surrender to grief or despondency. We know what’s at stake and we must use her death as a rallying cry, a rod that stiffens our spines, and a torch that leads us to do whatever it takes to reclaim our country and the principles and values upon which it stands.

When our energy flags, when we are slapped in the face yet again with the hypocrisy of the Mitch McConnells, Donald Trumps, William Barrs, and Ted Cruzes (just to name a few), we must stop and ask ourselves: #WWRBGD?

I have no doubt that she would tell us to suck it up and move forward. In my mind, that’s the best way we can honor her memory and her legacy.

(T-434)

 

Ford v Ferrari – Day 609

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Forbes.com

Ford v Ferrari

Karl and I watched the movie Ford v Ferrari tonight on HBO.

I think Karl was pretty surprised that I suggested we watch it. To be honest, it wasn’t a move either one of us would think we’d be interested in. While I love to drive – and stick is best – I am definitely not a racecar fan.

I suggested it because I like the actors who star in it (Matt Damon and Christian Bale) and I knew it had produced some Oscar nominations. But I have to say, I didn’t expect to be writing a post about it.

What a good movie, though! I love it when we start watching a production hoping for the best but not having the highest of expectations. It’s great to be pleasantly surprised.

The Choices We Make

It’s a true story, or at least it’s factually based on the lives of two men, Carroll Shelby, a race car designer and builder, and Ken Miles, a daring and skilled race car driver. The drama was tight and definitely relatable, especially with respect to the pressure brought to bear on the pair from corporate suits at Ford.

Indeed, that aspect was maddening.

But when all was said and done, the choices each made in the moment stuck with me. They caused me to think about life and what we do with the time we’re given here on Earth. What values and talents do we hope to pass on to our kids? What’s really important to each of us in the long run? I know, typical annoying questions you’d expect me to ask.

Yet I ask that them not only with respect to the choices made by the characters in the movie, but also with respect to our own legacies.

Our Choices Define Us

The driver, Ken Miles, is certainly depicted as a guy who drove hard but was intimately tuned to the machine he was driving. He could read the cars he drove better than most of us read our own bodies. And he achieved some milestones with those cars that obviously made a difference, especially in the trajectory and legacy of the Ford Motor Company. I can only imagine how proud his wife and son were – and are – of him. Certainly they must be gratified that his story is being told.

And yet I suspect many people unfamiliar with the racing world would never have heard of him had it not been for this movie. And even if everyone knew his name at one point (in the ‘60s), it seems to only take a couple of decades or so for people to forget.

Most pertinent of all, at least from how he is depicted in this movie, I doubt Ken Miles ever imagined a movie would be made about him, his choices, and his role in the competition between Ford and Ferrari.

All Around Us

All around us there are people living extraordinary lives who probably appear ordinary to many of their peers. Indeed, perhaps many of us sharing these posts are living such lives.

It makes me think about the stories we hold close to the vest. Why we make the choices we do. Who cares and who will remember?

In any given moment, it seems like the true measure of who we are resides in the choices we make when we think no one will ever know and no one will ever care.

In the end, if we’re not true to ourselves, then why bother?

(T-502)

Carol’s Chocolate Cake – Day 126

Posted on by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment
Carol’s Chocolate Cake (with green icing to celebrate our Irish) – Photo: L. Weikel                                                                                       (Missing from Photo: A big glass of ice-cold milk)

Carol’s Chocolate Cake     

We had some pre-birthday cake tonight. My middle son’s birthday is this week, and even though we decided not to officially celebrate until next weekend, I baked him a chocolate cake with buttercream icing on it this weekend anyway. Just because.

The cake I baked today was the ‘official’ cake of my sons’ childhoods; my ‘go to’ cake recipe that I baked for birthdays (and only birthdays) for years and years.

Officially, in the household I grew up in, this cake was known as ‘Carol’s Chocolate Cake.’ This was not because my sister Carol came up with the recipe. In fact I doubt she even knows where the recipe originated. I’m sure I don’t know. But it was called Carol’s Chocolate Cake because she was the one who baked it.

This wildly popular darkly chocolate and seductive confection was a dessert we would have only on rare, celebratory occasions – although while I was growing up, this chocolate cake was not the official birthday cake.

NOT the Official Birthday Cake of My Youth

No, the official birthday cake while I was growing up was ‘Aunt Grace’s Cake.’

Inasmuch as I have 985 more posts to write in order to fulfill my 1111 Devotion commitment, I’m going to save a chitchat about Aunt Grace’s Cake for another post.

Although, truth be told, I really can’t talk about one without mentioning the other. You might think it odd that I did not carry on the legacy of having Aunt Grace’s Cake be ‘the’ birthday cake for my kids, but there are a couple of reasons why that happened.

How the ‘Official’ Designation Shifted

First and foremost, since my sister Carol is 13 years older than I, she grew up, went to college, and married well before I was out of the house. As a result, Carol was gone but the cake needed to be baked. And so I was tasked with becoming its baker. It was a recipe I ‘brought to the marriage,’ so to speak, and since I knew how to bake it from having taken up the reins when Carol grew up and moved to Massachusetts, and the recipe was easy, it became our official birthday cake.

The second reason was because Aunt Grace’s Cake was never one that was baked in our house. As can be gleaned from its name, it can also be deduced – and you would not be wrong in making that deduction – that it was baked at Aunt Grace’s house. Indeed, all I ‘knew’ about Aunt Grace’s Cake was that my mother would buy what seemed to be vast numbers of Hershey’s bars, walnuts, and eggs, and would drop them off at Aunt Grace’s house days before any of our birthdays.

I never saw the recipe, nor did I ever think I could master this feat of orgasmic culinary wizardry. This was mostly because my mother would just rave and rave over it – not once did she even feign an interest in baking it herself. (Smart woman, my mother.)

A Cake’s Daunting Legacy

As a result, I had it in my head for the longest time that it was something only an expert in the kitchen could bake. Or a Hungarian – as it was a recipe my Aunt Grace (who was an aunt by love and affection, not blood) had brought in her head as a child when she emigrated here from Hungary.

So I never even tried. Not until, oddly enough, about eight or nine years ago.

Instead, through pretty much the first 30 years of Karl’s and my marriage (and consequently our sons’ lives), I remained loyal to the achingly delicious, tried and true, now Aunt Carol’s Chocolate Cake. It was the official birthday cake of the Weikel household.

And I’ll tell you the secret to why this has always been exquisitely pleasing: it has a robust cup of coffee in it. Yum. So not only do you get the caffeine hit of cocoa, but also of coffee. Add sugar, butter and flour and you have a hit. But top it off with homemade buttercream icing?

Yeah, you get the picture.

An Impossible Choice

Fast forward to Son #2’s 31stbirthday: When asked which cake he wanted me to bake for his birthday (which again, he opted to celebrate next weekend, since it falls in the middle of the week), he asked for ‘the walnut cake’ – which is another name for Aunt Grace’s Cake.

I could tell from the lightning-quick looks that flashed between him and his wife that my son’s choice may have been slightly influenced by my daughter-in-law’s unabashed passion for Aunt Grace’s Cake. Not that any of us suffer for that selection, mind you. (Smart son I have.)

But what the heck.

Especially considering what I wrote about last night and the preciousness of making our ‘time’ count by virtue of the experiences with which we choose to fill it, I decided we all needed a pre-birthday fix of Aunt Carol’s Chocolate Cake.

Just for old times’ sake.

(T-985)