Breakfast, bowling and the N-word

Sunday was one of those days where there was nothing special going on -- just a few ordinary things, scheduled and impromptu, that added up to a satisfying, relaxing day.

Morning: Got up early and went to the gym, my first day exercising after missing three in a row due to a cough and cold. Amazes me how quickly my strength (or perceived strength) slips away in that short a time. Going to make time this afternoon for a long run or swim.

Met Nathan for a brunch at Accanto, a classy cafe on Southeast Belmont that's owned by the same folks who operate Genoa, one of the city's finest restaurants. Nathan told me there's never a wait for a table because Accanto hasn't been discovered yet, and when I arrived I could see he was right.

I had a breakfast strata made with brioche, chevre, and turnip greens baked in a savory custard and served over a San Marzano tomato sauce topped with a sunnyside up egg. Nathan went for the bucatini carbonara, an artisian pasta with guanciale, pecorino, black pepper and eggs. Very nice.

We talked a bit about his and Sara's upcoming visit to Pittsburgh, where they will get to visit Simone and Kyndall, and about the wisdom to be found in this summer's "How To Be A Man" issue of Esquire.

Afternoon: Came home and went to the Irvington Farmers Market, a few blocks from our home, with Lori. We picked up some fresh fish and produce, olive oils, barbecue sauce, a bouquet of flowers, and a pita sandwich for Lori. Ran into a couple of folks from the neighborhood, then went down the street to Broadway Books and picked up a new novel. Feels good when we can patronize local vendors and merchants, especially those who are selling homemade products.

Had a reunion of sorts with the Broken Taco Shells, the coed bowling team that formed last fall and recently completed the third of three consecutive bowling seasons at Hollywood Bowl. We're taking the summer off as a team, so this was a nice gathering. Couple pitchers of beer, no pressure to beat another team and a side game of poker -- take one card for a spare, two cards for a strike and make your best hand. I had a full house, aces over jacks, and still lost to my buddy, John, who somehow came up with four eights!

Evening: Had a casual dinner built around leftover pork chops (as tasty as when we grilled them two days earlier), then watched a re-run of "60 Minutes." Sandwiched in between profiles of J. Craig Venter, the California microbiologist, and Colin Firth, the Oscar-winning actor, was a very thoughtful treatment of the national debate over the sanitized version of "Huckleberry Finn."

David Bradley

A well-meaning Southern publisher, a guy who grew up in segregated Alabama, took it upon himself to publish Mark Twain's classic to give teachers an alternative to the 1885 original, which is littered with more than 200 references to the N-word. The new version replaces the N-word in each and every instance with "slave."

Correspondent Byron Pitts visits a couple of high school classrooms and talks to teachers and students about the pros and cons of teaching the original version, but also provides a nice surprise when he interviews David Bradley, a creative writing professor at the University of Oregon. I hadn't heard of Bradley before, but his views are provocative and well articulated.

He argues for teaching "Huck Finn" with the original language, as it accurately reflects the speech that was used in those times in that part of the country. Substituting "slave" for "nigger" dilutes the power of the N-word, he says, and does a disservice to readers who otherwise have to confront why they react as they do to the uncomfortableness of the word and all it represents. I agree completely.

On the other hand, he says "nigger" is just a word, that depending on whom is speaking it and whom it directed to, the tone and delivery can totally change its meaning. That is, a black person speaking to another black person can claim it in a way that non-blacks cannot. I'm not black, so I can't say I would ever feel comfortable having that word spoken aloud in my absence. To me, it's detestable and hateful and I never speak it for the same reasons I don't ever say "wetback" or "beaner" or "spic" -- equally demeaning words directed at my people over the years.

Like I said, nothing special about yesterday. I guess it was ordinariness of the day that was so satisfying.