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Love: Theater: Gardening:
Morsels:
Wild
Hair The cow bell hanging from the door of the coffee shop clang-clangs as a woman walks in from the cold. She is bundled up in shearling coat, wool scarf, gloves and cap. After pulling off her gloves, she tugs at the cap and unfurls a head-full of shiny, brunette curls. She shakes them loose and even from a few feet away, you can smell the floral tones of her shampoo. At this point, a man at a table near the door looks up from his newspaper and glances to the side as the woman makes her way to the counter. She has unbuttoned her coat, loosened her scarf, and continues to casually arrange the mass of gleaming ringlets over her shoulders and around her face. The man takes a deep breath as she walks by, closes his eyes for just longer than a blink, and returns his gaze to the newspaper. Hair is utilitarian: It keeps us warm; it protects delicate skin; it camouflages. It is among the most primal of characteristics, linking us closely and uniquely to our mammalian kin. But hair is also a gauge. From it we assume some part of a person's status — cleanliness, health, wealth, competence — which may be why people in the United States spent a little more than $6 billion on hair care products in the year 2000, and sales for 2005 are projected at $7.5 billion (source: The U.S. Market for Hair Care Products); or why more than 177, 000 men underwent hair replacement and transplantation surgery in 2000; or why a Google search for "hair, power" will return nearly two million hits.
Hair has shifted from the utilitarian to the decorative, even to the transformative. We cut it: pageboy, brush cut, crew cut, Mohawk, buzz cut, mullet. We style it: Afro, chignon, dreadlocks, beehive, French braid, cornrow, flip. We bemoan it: dull frizzies, receding hairlines, static fly-aways, split ends, dandruff, tangles. Good hair days are sunshine and rainbows; bad hair days are dark. Those mythic "lost a match with the lawnmower" haircuts are soon enough forgotten, since hair always (er, generally) grows back. From Trump's comb-over to Betty Page's va-va-voom bangs to the helmet heads of Ted Koppel and Oprah, hair says something. At its very mildest, it is a distraction; at its most extreme, it is enchanting, seductive, erotic. It indicates vitality and vigor, which in turn indicate power. And that power can be very, very sexy. Such is the provocative nature of hair that some cultures and religions require it to be hidden. Since 9/11, we have become familiar with images of Middle Eastern women whose heads and bodies are covered in the full burqua or hijab shawl covering. We associate these coverings with oppression and chauvinism, though there are arguments that such covers protect religious and cultural modesty by protecting the intimate display of hair and skin. The theory is similar to that behind the more commonly accepted practice of covering the breasts and posterior.
In The Body in Islamic Culture, Fuad Khuri explains the different meanings of hair in Arab culture: Hair in men's moustaches means honor and manliness; in men's beards, hair means piety. If men's beards are left to grow untrimmed, this signifies bereavement. Hair on a woman's face signifies negligence. Women in mourning cut their hair short. If men let their hair grow long, it indicates rebelliousness against the existing social and political order. This is the reason that some dictatorial regimes in the Middle East have forbidden young people to grow long hair, even if it is the popular fashion. Americans are not without their own hair rules and oddities. Religious communities in this country such as the Amish, Mennonites and stricter Catholics, all have rules for covering the hair. In an article in The Journal of American History, "A Token That Love Entwines: Human Hair Work and The American Middle Class, 1780-1920," Dr. Helen Sheumaker explores the American tradition of or "hair work," or decorative objects made of human hair. She says, "Hair work was very popular among white, middle-class Americans from the Revolutionary period to just after WW I… You think hair work is weird. But that perception is a reflection of our times and of our discomfort with sentimentality and the body. For its original consumers, hair work was a true, sincere expression of the heart. You could literally wear your relationships, in the form of jewelry made of human hair, or you could hang your family on the wall, in the form of a wreath made of flowers of their hair." Hair work was powerful because it was literally a production of the human body (usually a loved one's body); it was created by hand, so that the final object bore the mark of human action; and it represented one's most private, sincere emotions
In dream interpretation, the significance of hair echoes that same intimacy: To comb or arrange the hair of anyone of the opposite sex indicates a happy outcome to your current sex problems. To cut one's own hair or have it cut in a dream is a sign of success in a new venture or sphere of activity. To cut someone else's hair is a warning of hidden jealousy. Seeing oneself with luxuriant hair is a sign of good health, progress and contentment; seeing oneself with hair that is thin, falling out or worrisome in any way forecasts difficulties ahead. Eating or chewing hair signifies that you would do well to give more attention to your own affairs and less to the affairs of others. To find hair on an unusual part of the body promises a steady increase in material wealth. Whether you're dreaming about it or contending with it in the morning rush, whether it's falling out or growing from your ears, hair is a huge part of how we define ourselves, of how we create individuality. We make it say something about us, and when it does, people pay attention.
Freedom's
Price Long before Betty Frieden penned The Feminine Mystique, women have been forced to feign happiness in their predestined roles as wives and mothers. Except some women liberate themselves, as does the protagonist in Lord Leebrick Theatre Company's production of Nora, Ingmar Bergman's stage version and contemporary interpretation of the Ibsen play, A Doll's House. Opening on a sparsely adorned set that serves as the Helmer's apartment, the tenuous relationship between Nora and Torvald unfolds. Transiting directly from her father's house into her husband's, Nora has never known independence. By all appearances, she is an adult married woman with three children, yet emotionally she remains childlike, due, in part, to her husband Torvald. A successful lawyer and strict authoritarian, Torvald treats Nora like a child, doling out an allowance, for which she is delighted, and referring to her as his "little songbird." He is condescending to the extreme and Nora seems to encourage his behavior with her constant need for approval and guidance. However, it quickly becomes evident that behind Torvald's back, Nora is anything but the dutiful wife. In the presence of her husband's oldest and dearest friend, Dr. Rank, Nora asserts her rebellion in a myriad of harmless ways — from keeping a stash of Macaroons — Torvald says she shouldn't indulge because they're bad for her teeth — to blurting out shocking, un-ladylike phrases like "kiss my arse!" Christine Linde, an old friend of Nora's arrives unexpectedly, in hopes that Torvald, the manager of a cooperative bank, will give her a job. Meanwhile, Nils Krogstad, a lawyer with a shady past, also pays Nora a visit in an attempt to blackmail her. In the end, when all the sordid truth comes out, rather than standing behind Nora, Torvald turns on his devoted wife. But the next morning, Nora confronts Torvald with her own "truth." She realizes that their relationship is a sham. In eight years of marriage they have never had a serious discussion. She's lived by doing tricks; by being a doll toy. She's married to a stranger, she feels wronged by both her father and her husband, and plans to embark on her own journey of self-realization. Director Hans Christofferson has assembled a talented cast for Nora. Susan Tate is Nora Helmer. Petite and pert, Tate actually resembles a delicate, porcelain doll. And while her performance throughout the play was exceptional, most delightful were the opening scenes where Nora is boxed into the role of the happy, happy, homemaker. Someone on Prozac could not have done a better, more convincing job. From his insultingly patronizing stance toward Nora at the beginning of the play — which often drew audible gasps from the audience — to his maudlin and wimpy display at the end, Dan Pegoda puts in a top-notch performance as Torvald Helmer. James Aday is sweet and credible as Nora's biggest admirer, the Freud-ish Dr. Rank; Sharon Sless was terrific as Mrs. Linde, and Ken Hof does an admirable job as Nils Krogstad, although his performance opening night came off as a bit wooden at times. Also deserving of acknowledgment is costume designer Anna W. Lawrence for her exquisite and finely detailed period costumes. The 90-minute production is presented without an intermission, but the compelling performances and engaging dialogue make it barely noticeable. Ibsen had no intention of being a voice for women's rights, but his century-old play remains a powerful and timeless statement about the injustice modern women continue to endure.
Orchid
Madness Professors, in my experience, are overworked, highly focused people who rarely have hobbies. So when I ran into Wendy Larson last summer and she told me she had just built a greenhouse to house her collection of orchids, I felt I needed to know more. Wendy, associate dean of humanities at the UO, is also a professor of modern Chinese literature, and she began her story this way: "When I was in Beijing in 1979-81, I bought five seeds of something called "The Exemplary Person Orchid." The seeds germinated and, several years later, bloomed. We now jump to December 2000, when friends came to a birthday party at Wendy's bearing two orchids as gifts. The new orchids started her wondering about the identity of her Exemplary Person Orchid.
Wendy had learned from friends in China that the Chinese people have a highly developed aesthetic appreciation of plants. This "elitist" activity was frowned on under the Cultural Revolution, and those who persisted in growing flowers took a big hit for it, she says. There was still an aura of near-secrecy surrounding the cultivation of certain plants when Wendy made her purchase in Beijing. It was the intrigue of this somewhat clandestine deal that captured her imagination. When it comes to plant names, Wendy claims she was "totally clueless." So she started visiting nurseries, talking to orchid growers, and reading. Not surprisingly, her book list included both Susan Orlean's The Orchid Thief and Orchid Fever by Eric Hansen. Hansen's book was key to her new passion. "Hansen has a fine social sense," she says, which allows him to describe brilliantly what she calls "the social world of orchids.". Everyone associated with these exotic, sexy and coveted plants seems a little larger and stranger than life. The world of intrigue and obsession Hansen draws so vividly clearly resonated with Wendy's own experience in China. Like Hansen, she told me, "I'm not interested in the natural world so much as the fantasy world that plants can create." While immersing herself in the orchid world, Wendy of course acquired plants. "I soon had fluorescent lights all over the house " she said. "I built structures for them out of copper tubing, and painted the light covers gold." She showed me couple of them. She looks at them in mild wonder, remembering this phase of her obsession. "I was a little crazy," she laughs. Less than 18 months into her habit, she realized she needed a greenhouse. And the greenhouse a friend built for her last year is not just any greenhouse. This one is built out of triple-wall polycarbonate for energy efficiency, with heat from a natural gas burner, a humidifier for summer, and a Co2 generator. So how did you find out how to grow orchids, I asked? "I went on the internet. I found there is this debate about the best growing medium." Orchids are usually grown in bark, she says, but when the bark breaks down it holds too much water. Some growers were using an "expanded clay" product called hydroton. She tried it and nearly killed her orchids. "It drowned them," she says, "I think it's wrong for the western Oregon climate." Wendy then went to Bandon to visit an orchid grower named Dale Borders who uses coconut (husk) chips. She showed me any number of plants in obvious recovery since she switched to a mix of coconut chips, Styrofoam pellets, and some hydroton. She waters plants once a week. "I'm really too greedy to specialize," Wendy says, "but right now I have more paphs than anything." This is probably an accident of timing. "Paph" means the genus Paphiopedalum, I learned. Along with "phrags" (Phragmipedium), they constitute the tropical slipper orchids, a group which only quite recently became widely available and are about the hottest orchids around. They've been through a blizzard of hybridization, and it is mainly hybrids that occur in commerce. Wendy showed me two new acquisitions: a "complex hybrid" (a result of many crosses) and a cross between the so-called King of Orchids, Paphiopedalum rothschildianum, and another long-petalled paph named P. kolopakingii. In late January, flowering stems were just emerging from many of Wendy's orchids. Some had visible buds, but it would be weeks before the blooms open. "They tease you," she said. Slipper orchid flowers have a pouch (or slipper), the purpose of which is to trap an insect and force it to leave the flower with a load of pollen. While the pouch and adjacent organs are indeed about sex — flower sex, that is, and sex with insects (I wish I had time to go into this) — they bear a bizarre, coincidental resemblance to human sex organs. This probably accounts for their ancient reputation as aphrodisiacs. It is also a feature that breeders like to exaggerate, and some of the hybrids are downright lurid. The Exemplary Person Orchid, by the way, was not an orchid at all. It turned out to be a clivia, a strap-leafed plant with orange, lily-like flowers from an entirely different family.
Victuals
& Va-Va-Voom
Johnny
Ocean's Grille Johnny Ocean's, located in the Heritage Courtyard at Oakway Center, offers a casual and friendly atmosphere, great homemade desserts, and tasty sauces. Out of the countless places to get a burger in Eugene, Johnny Ocean's sets itself apart by adding a Caribbean flare and intense flavors to the equation. But other aspects of the meal are average. Dinner entrees are served with garlic bread, vegetables, and your choice of both rice and beans or fries. The fries resemble fast food, and the rice and beans lacked pizzazz. Johnny Ocean's does a good job with its homemade sauces. The peanut sauce came highly recommended by the owner, and I liked it so much, I ordered an extra side to slather on my burger and fries. The secret-recipe peanut sauce has a jelly-like texture and a kick from sweet chili sauce. Johnny Ocean's plans to expand their menu in the near future and incorporate more dishes with this scrumptious peanut sauce. Even if you usually pass on dessert, try Johnny Ocean's. The owner's wife makes all the desserts, and the time and care she puts into them shows in the flavor and quality. The chocolate bourbon pecan torte was velvety smooth, albeit the nuts, and light enough to finish without feeling overloaded. Johnny Ocean's tries to emulate a beachside setting with their pseudo-tropical decor — think thatched umbrellas and strings of lantern lights. Seating is limited because of the large open kitchen, which looks clean and organized. The staff is always friendly, and the owner personally makes rounds through the restaurant to check on customers. M-Sa 9 am-9 pm, Su 12-7. $-$$. — Mariko Fukuyama
Jade
Palace Now that Govinda's has turned into a cafe for FOOD for Lane County (a great success until complaints from neighbors temporarily closed it, but it'll be back soon), vegetarians gotta get their buffet elsewhere. One place with a good dinner is the Thursday night vegetarian buffet at the Jade Palace. It has a great spread. There are veggies, noodles and tofu in several forms, fried won tons and egg rolls, even soup. The dishes are a little mild, but there are hot oil and sauces, including a rich, tasty Wonder Sauce, available at the end of the line. It's easy to customize your meal. Many of the buffet selections are not available on their regular menu, and your choices change quickly as the trays are emptied and refilled. There's even a desert bar, with cookies, fruit and fabulous Agar pudding cubes, and little cardboard cups of ice cream or sorbet on request. The buffet runs $8.50 for adults, and $3.50 for kids under 6 years old. Friday nights are seafood buffet nights, and the regular menu is available the whole week. 11 am to 9 pm Tu-Th, 11 am to 9:30 pm F, 5 to 9:30 pm Sa, noon to 9 pm Su. — Marina Taylor
Steelhead
Brewery Steelhead has a great location, right on the corner of Pearl and 5th. Amidst the 5th St. Market, the fabulous LocoMotive and Chantrelles, and the trendy Café LN, Steelhead can hold its own. It's actually a more casual and inexpensive project from the owners of the Oregon Electric Station, a gourmet spot up the street. At Steelhead, the food is good and there's lots of it. The service is quick, friendly and very professional. I hardly had time to get into my dark and tangy root beer when the food arrived. The halibut fish and chips were fresh and crispy, served with very nice slaw and dipping sauce. I also tried the individual cheese pizza, which was satisfying and filling if a little generic, and a sweet and rich tomato bisque. The comfort food here is certainly a step above regular bar fare. 11:30 am-midnight, daily. — MT Leftovers: The Jail, John Lee's new fast Asian fusion project, is up and running, and it seems to be an idea whose time has come. The place looks packed already. Conquering Lion live foods is now open and serving lunch and dinner out of Cozmic Pizza's space, seven days a week. And even Albertson's is coming around — thanks to encouraging letters from its customers. It now offers organic and fair trade coffees in 140 Oregon and Washington supermarkets. Looking
for a few good opinions:
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