Month: January 2017

Big Beer Mondays at Mister Up’s

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Taken the day after Independence Day. This is not Mister Up’s, but an old-school diner in the hills of New Jersey. I ordered a coke and a slice of cold apple pie. I think I was reading “The Sympathizer” by Viet Thanh Nguyen — not entirely sure. The service was fantastic. The waitress reminded me of Rachel. 

On Monday nights, five dollars can get you 25 oz. of any Vermont brew at Mister Up’s, a local restaurant and pub in Middlebury. There are about a dozen local beer selections, from dark and creamy pours like Otter Creek’s Oatmeal Stout to Burlington’s Queen City Hefenweizer, a light, citrusy ale that tickles the lips.

Ordering one “big beer” is a given. Ordering two isn’t unheard of. Ordering three… well, good luck.

By 9:30 P.M., the booths are packed in both dining rooms, with locals and college students alike. This is nothing like the Thursday bar night at Two Brother’s Tavern, where sweaty collared shirts and silky tops dominate the downstairs lounge.

At Mister Up’s, there’s no loud music, no dancing, no strobe lights. No one appears hammered. People often keep their scarves on – the cozy charm of questionable heating. Sometimes, there are board games. Often, it’s just cards.

The bar stools are taken, minus the occasional lone seat between parties of two and three. Rachel, the bartender, frantically fills oversized mugs with beer, sometimes clamping down on two taps at a time, serving up one after another. I marvel at her speed, her coordination. She hands me a “big beer.” I clutch it with two hands; it’s always heavier than it looks. I glance at her forearms in awe.

Rachel is the gem of the joint. Though tucked away on Bakery Lane, there’s no baker in sight. And besides the occasional burger or taco assembly, the chef doesn’t seem to do much besides stick frozen food in the oven. Sometimes, the fryer. Don’t be fooled by the exotic adjectives on the menu, like “Cajun” in front of the word “salad” or “sandwich”; it’s all standard American fare. You might as well have brought your own seasoning to sprinkle on yourself. It’d be less salty. You might actually taste the spice.

Hungry students usually order “fingers and toes”, a benign plate of chicken fingers and fries. It’s a college favorite, only because the rest of the menu is a crapshoot. Even 0rdering nachos can be risky. Will all the cheese be melted? Will half the chips be burnt?

The cookie skillet “a la mode” is admittedly delicious, but it’s a dish that’s hard to screw up. Think vanilla ice cream melting into the warm, molten nooks of a chocolate chip cookie, sizzling with crisp buttery edges that hide a soft, doughy inside. For sober pals and underage buddies, this dessert is a nice alternative to the classic “big beer.” It’s also reasonably priced at $6 per skillet that’s big enough to share.

And if you order a beer, make sure to tip Rachel.

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Film Review: “Everything Is Copy”

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From Creative Commons/Flickr

Nora Ephron. For most college students, the name rings like a faint hourly bell, dull and distant, just frequent enough to take notice. The screenwriter behind “When Harry Met Sally”? The author of Heartburn? Yes, and yes. The feared and revered literary icon, the unabashedly honest feminist, the self-proclaimed “relationship expert”? I had no idea.

The documentary opens with Nora Ephron reading an essay on an important family mantra, one recited by generations of Ephron women. A running ribbon throughout her wildly public life and puzzlingly private death, it’s also the title of this film: “Everything Is Copy.”

Using Nora’s life as “copy” for the script, Director Noah Bernstein take a page from her family book. It’s fitting. He’s her son.

We hear Bernstein’s voice in the narration; we see him on the screen. A journalist by training, he initially admits his discomfort with putting himself in the story.

Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted it so early on, right after the opening credits, because the early interview scenes, him sitting across the couch from Delia Ephron, appear forced and awkward. It’s as if his admitted uneasiness of putting himself in the film is contagious. Every time I heard him ask a question, I squirmed. Every time he appeared on screen, I cringed. When the camera finally cut from the couch to Delia’s face, I sighed in relief.

But maybe that was the point. This film isn’t just about Nora Ephron as the writer, sister, friend and wife, but about a son coming to terms with his mother’s sudden death. Ephron suffered from a blood disorder that she kept secret from him (and most of the world) for many years, before succumbing to leukemia in 2008.

This 90-minute reel unspools like a scrapbook of Nora’s life: her sisters and close friends provide voice-overs for old photographs, modern female icons like Lena Dunham read funny, biting snippets from her early essays, an interview with ex-husband, THE Carl Bernstein, reveals his take on their marriage as tabloid shots of their tumultuous divorce flicker on screen.

The film embeds short television clips from Nora’s interviews throughout the years. Though the older segments are sometimes grainy, the zing of her witty one-liners and abrasive, yet hilarious views remain fresh.

Like many 20-something women, I saw and loved “When Harry Met Sally.” Unlike most romantic comedies, the heroine is ambitious and confident, flawed but effortlessly funny.

After watching “Everything Is Copy,” it all makes sense. She wrote incredible screenplays because she was an incredible woman. This tribute to Nora Ephron is not just for writers and it’s not just for feminists. As a young millennial trying to make my own mark, I take strong note of Ephron’s character and drive.

DeVos Doesn’t Know My Public School

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My parents at my high school graduation. They’ve never looked prouder, I think.

Poised to upend the status quo, our next education secretary is likely Betsy DeVos. She’s pumped millions of her own fortune to support voucher programs, funding private tuition with taxpayer dollars. Charmed by charter schools, DeVos is eager to fork it over when prep schools come knocking, but she slams the door when the outstretched hand belongs to a public school. 

As someone grateful for my free K-12 education, this woman scares me most among all of Trump’s nominees. I’m a proud graduate of West Windsor-Plainsboro High School South, a highly-ranked but overcrowded public high school in suburban New Jersey. Many of my classmates were Asian immigrants like myself.

Prestigious private schools, including The Lawrenceville School, Princeton Day School and Peddie, were a 15-minute drive from our home. But like many immigrants, my parents couldn’t afford the six-figure price tag to send two kids there every year. Nor could they navigate the competitive admissions process with their broken English and full-time jobs.

If my family had been offered a voucher under DeVos’ grand scheme, we likely would have taken it. My classes would have been smaller. I would have gotten more one-on-one attention from my teachers. The counselor might not have asked me to outline my own college recommendation. There would have been soap in the bathroom dispensers. Maybe even full-size lockers.

But I might not have learned to focus in crowded classrooms, unafraid to shout a wrong answer with confidence. I wouldn’t have signed a petition to fix public health guidelines, after learning the defrosted pizza on my Styrofoam tray counted as a vegetable serving (because under a thick layer of cheese lay two tablespoons of tomato sauce). I wouldn’t have been able to walk myself home from school on days both my parents worked.

I remember my local school district struggled to maintain its diverse reputation. As Asian students became the overwhelming majority, a dozen or so of my classmates transferred to prep school. All but one were white.

DeVos’ policies to cut education funding would only expedite this wealthy, white flight from public schools, not just in my town but in districts across the country. The result: a segregated education system that voucher programs aren’t likely to fix.

In San Francisco, whites make up 29 percent of the school-age population but just 12 percent of students in the city’s public schools. In the South, a 2016 report by the Southern Education Foundation found that private schools are re-segregating classrooms into rich and white or poor and black. Furthermore, it reported that vouchers have done little to diversify them.

Voucher programs can also hinder student progress. Recent studies on the programs in Louisiana and Indiana found that reading and math scores declined after voucher recipients transferred to private schools. Yet, there was an unexplained advantage among these private school transfers. When it came to a college degree, they were more likely to attend and finish a four-year school compared to their public school peers.   

Even here at Middlebury, a college with need-blind admissions and a generous financial aid budget, prep school diplomas are the norm, rather than the exception, like it is in the rest of this country. The College’s website estimates 48 percent of students graduated from private school.

Though the split is near fifty-fifty, it’s nowhere close to the national statistic. The National Center for Education Studies reported just 10 percent of school-age children went to private school in 2014. That means Middlebury recruited nearly half its incoming class from a one-tenth sliver of all American students. Furthermore, the median family income among students is $244,000 and nearly a quarter belong to the wealthiest one percent of all American households, the New York Times reported.  

Playing the numbers game, I’m lucky to be here. But what will be the odds of my peers – the three million other 18-year-olds who graduate each year without the privilege of private schooling – to attend an elite college like ours after DeVos cuts funding for public schools? After she implements voucher programs in their place?

The rise of populism in this year’s election revealed discontent among hopeful college graduates and hardened blue-collar workers alike. Yet, a quality and free education gives every American a shot at the “American Dream,” no matter their party, race, income or immigrant status. In conservative speak, education spending is the rising tide that lifts all boats. If Trump’s administration champions merit, hard work and grit among our country’s founding values, our education secretary must invest in public schools, not defund them.