Yesterday the Senate failed to pass an immigration bill that would have provided funds to solidify our borders and naturalize an estimated 12 million illegal immigrants in our country. If you think this was a Democratic-backed legislation, think again. President Bush was a strong proponent of this bill.

Accompanied with the headline story about the immigration bill in this morning’s Washington Post was an article titled, “Small-Town Resistance Helped to Seal Defeat.” It provided insight into part of the reason for the bill’s failure – the xenophobia of “small town” Americans. While I don’t have a concrete position on the immigration bill, I was disturbed by the reasons that some “small town” Americans opposed it. Sure, the people quoted in the article are not exactly a reflection of all people from small towns but they certainly reinforce the perception of some that they are insular racists.

For example:

That was the first time I looked around and said, ‘Man, I didn’t realize how many Mexicans there were here,’ [Stephanie] Usrey, 39, recalled. ‘And they don’t seem to feel any discomfort when they’re, like, six inches from your face and talking to each other in their language, either. I just felt very encroached upon….It was like an instant feeling of ‘I’m in the minority, and if we don’t get control over this, pretty soon all of America will be outnumbered.”

Well Stephanie, that’s precisely how white Americans felt about the Italians, Irish, and Jews that passed through Ellis Island. We’re all familiar with white people who would sweat beads if they were in a place full of African Americans where they are the “minority”. It is an abomination when non-whites are not comfortably dispersed throughout the country where they cannot collectively threaten white domination!

Charles Slay, 73, described how, on a recent visit to the emergency room at the city’s main medical center, he was incensed to find it filled with Mexicans, whom he presumed were seeking non-emergency care because they lacked health insurance. ‘You should’ve seen how I had to holler to get the nurse’s attention,’ he said.

Charles, Charles, Charles…that sounds like what happened prior to 1964, where it was a crime for a white person to get in line behind black people.

But [Max Crawford] is also unsettled by many of their customs, such as a tendency to throw toilet paper in the trash rather than in the toilet — a common practice in areas of Latin America where commodes do not flush with sufficient force to handle paper. ‘I mean, we actually had to show them a video explaining how you’re supposed to put the toilet paper in the toilet,’ he said.

Crawford said he decided to get in touch with his senators because, ‘Everyone was saying you need to let them know how you feel about this right now.’

So this is a valid reason to shoot down the immigration bill, because they throw wads of toilet paper smeared with their caca in the wastebasket?

Ironically, Michael Chertoff, the U.S. Homeland Security Secretary, said that without the additional funds provided by immigration bill they will not be able to buttress the borders. This, in turn, means that illegal immigrants will continue to stream over the border, at a rate of 700,000 to 800,000 per year. And we don’t want these people scaring the bejesus out of proud Americans like Stephanie Usrey, Charles Slay, and Max Crawford.

If these “small town” fellas were smart, they would have asked for trillions more for the immigration bill in order to erect titanium behemoths safeguarding our country against the vicious immigrants who would put stained toilet paper in our wastebaskets!

It’s with great pleasure to announce the addition of Liz Stone to the DeafDC.com blogroll! Those who know her will agree that she has an infectious spirit that is positive and optimistic. Liz wrote a guest blog for DeafDC.com that had a soothing effect on the tempers that flared during the protests. We look forward to her impact on our audience!

Liz, an ecothusiastic green blogger who hails from San Diego, California, plans to discuss organic delights in the DC area, how to protect our environment, and much more. A resident in the Capitol Hill area, Liz is a proud ZipCar user and a recent semi-herbivore convert (she still eats fish). She is on a quest for delectable vegetarian recipes but she’s always game for dining out. Liz loves quality conversations, fascinating people, lame jokes, and the company of other solution-seekers and idea-creators. She currently works as a development officer at Gallaudet University.

Please give Liz a hearty welcome aboard!

Ah, Mexico. Land of pristine beaches; of gentle guitar music strummed softly in the background while you sip your margarita. Land of linguistic nightmares.

The year was 1994. The Willem Dafoe paraplegic drinking scene in Born on the Fourth of July was still fresh in my mind. Thus when I asked my friend Mary* if there was indeed a worm in every shot of mescal down there, she suggested a trip to Nogales to find out! I was twenty-four at the time; naïve and new to the ways of the world. Be gentle.

Not that this is a drinking story, mind you. The whole point of the trip—for me anyway—was to buy one of those awesome Day of the Dead skeleton masks for my apartment. It was a part of the World Traveler image that I was trying to cultivate… Buy local folk art, decorate walls, women swoon. My command of Spanish could be described as limited at best and butchered at worst, but this did not faze me. Using my ever handy English-Spanish dictionary, I scribbled down rough translations of questions and phrases that I thought might prove useful:

“Where can I buy Day of the Dead masks?” ¿Dónde puedo comprar yo Día de las máscaras Muertas? “I’m deaf.” Soy sordo. “Your burritos are at once delicious and a digestive gateway to hell!” ¡Su burritos son simultáneamente deliciosos y una puerta digestiva al infierno!

Armed with these newfound and formidable linguistic capabilities, I flew out to meet Mary in Tempe, and a few hours later we found ourselves bravely entering the streets of Nogales, Mexico! I firmly believed that I knew enough Spanish to (at the very least) get myself pointed in one direction or another by someone who knew his way around, which would in turn enable me to find my mask. In an entirely unexpected way, I turned out to be right!

Not five blocks across the border we encountered three little girls—the youngest was about ten—selling trinkets out of an old wooden Pepsi crate. One of them held up a doll that looked like it was made out of a corncob, complete with a little cloth sombrero. She held it out to me with one hand and said something, showing me five outstretched fingers with her other hand. Buy this? Five dollars.

“Uh, no,” I said. “¿Dónde puedo comprar yo Día de las máscaras Muertas?”

She looked at me blankly, not comprehending. I tried again.

“El día del Muerto?” The Day of the Dead?

No response. The other two girls drifted away toward a new group of tourists.

“Uh… diablo rojo?” I mimed the action of putting a mask on my face. “¿Las máscaras?” Red devil masks?

No response. I looked at her Pepsi crate and saw what looked like a skeleton puppet draped over a stick, which was pretty close to what I wanted.

“Um, cráneo? Calavera?” I mimed putting on a mask again while pointing at the puppet. “Máscaras cráneo?” Skull masks?

She picked up the skeleton puppet and showed me three fingers with her free hand. Three dollars.

I shook my head “no” again and said “Baila con el Diablo,” looking to Mary for help. She was standing across the street looking at bracelets and necklaces being sold by yet another group of children. The second my attention wandered, the little girl I had just been talking to kicked me sharply in the knee—yes, directly in the kneecap, not in the leg… The kid could aim—and took off. I yelped and hopped backward. She was already at the far end of the block before I could put weight on it again. She turned around and flipped me the finger before vanishing around the corner. Thus my earlier hopes were fulfilled; in a manner of speaking, someone familiar with Nogales was pointing me in a specific direction.

Mary laughed at me as I hobbled across the street. “What’d you say?” she signed.

“I don’t know! I asked her if she knew where any mask stores were.”

“So she kicked you?”

“I said ‘Baila con el Diablo.’ The festival with the devil masks.”

“What festival? That’s not. . .”

Just then we saw the same girl come back around the street corner, this time with some tall guy in tow. He was carrying what appeared to be an axe handle, and he was quite angry.

Mary met him halfway, speaking fast. And thank God, too. The tall guy calmed down enough to merely point the axe handle at me and hold it steady—making this the second time that I was being pointed in some sort of direction in the city of Nogales—until Mary came back and towed me away, walking us around the corner as quickly as possible.

“You idiot,” she signed furiously, “You said ‘It dances with the Devil!’” You didn’t even call her ‘she!’ You called her an ‘it!’”

It was then and there that I swore to refrain from ever speaking Spanish in Mexico again. But a few hours later I accidentally mispronounced “mescal” as “sexo,” (translate that one yourselves) while being served in the bar where Mary insisted she could prove to me that all shots came with their own worm. This particular round of miscommunication resulted not only in our being thrown out of that fine establishment, but also in our quite literally having to flee the country before I could get us into any more trouble.

I did, however, manage to steer us into a shop and purchase my diablo rojo mask before we crossed the border again. So that’s something.

*Not her real name.

(P.S., Next week my wife and I are going to Cozumel on our first real vacation in three years! If I survive, I’ll let you know how the trip went when I get back!)

By Jason Lamberton

I subscribe to the New Scientist magazine, which often antagonizes me because it occasionally carries pieces that are, according to me, siren songs singing sourdicide (sourds = deaf + genocide). Or, in less antagonistic words, the magazine from time to time heralds the work being done towards a cure for deafness, often carrying articles that carry a certain British tone of disdain towards sign language.

For example: a 25 September 2004 letter to the editor said:

Although profoundly sympathetic to the wish of deaf people not to see themselves as disabled, I believe they are deluded. I need only one word to refute the “different but equal” claim: music.

Should a cure be perfected, to withhold it from a profoundly deaf infant would be an abominable act.
[emphasis mine]

Deluded! An abominable act! Whoa! It seems like the English folks over there in the offices of New Scientist think that music is central to life. A recent (12 June 2007) Technology Special Report on their website touting “New implant may ‘bring music to the deaf’” helps drive home that assertion. Another article titled Ear implant success sparks culture war (23 November 2006) opens up with the sentence: “COULD the end of sign language for deaf children be in sight?” Yet another letter calls us genocide-invoking whingers (16 December 2006).

But, lately, they have fallen silent on the issue of deafness till a couple items came up in recent issues. So, for my first piece as a guest blogger for DeafDC.com, I wanted to bring up two recent items to attention. We should keep these pieces in mind as evidence of the need for ASL (or BSL, et al.) to continue its existence, that it is not a threat to cochlear implants, and that it can actually contribute to the full utilization of a CI, and ultimately, a bona fide cure for deafness.

I know that this issue is not new, but I just wanted to rehash it and sorta celebrate the fact that scientists out there are actually starting to realize and acknowledge the empowering power sign language has on a developing infant brain. A letter to the editor by Anthea Fraser Gupta, a sociolinguist at the University of Leeds with research interests in child language in a social context, in the May 26, 2007 issue, entitled Grammar Lesson said:

There are many languages based on gesture, notably various sign languages, and these have grammar just as complex as that of speech-based languages. Speech is not essential for language. [emphasis mine]

The first thing that came to my mind was “yay! Another bit of evidence that the oral/CI method should not quarantine itself from the healthy benefits of sign language, evidence that should be used to show hearing parents of deaf babies what to do.”

In the next issue, there was a short column called Babies are watching your language:

…showed that deaf babies use visual cues to learn sign language, but ‘never did we dream that young hearing babies acquiring spoken languages also use visual cues in this stunning way.’

Interesting. The article claims that, up to eight months of age, hearing babies, because their auditory processes in the brain are not yet developed, rely on lip-reading. That ability disappears after eight months unless the baby’s raised bilingually. The twin brain processes enables the baby to “switch” from reading lips to hearing speech.

This drives home the point that babies with CIs are better off learning sign language as soon as possible. It improves the baby’s chances for perfect speech (the sole goal of nearly all hearing parents of deaf babies), which is the crux of their desire to open up a hole in their babies’ skulls in order to implant their cochleae. Ostracizing sign language from the baby’s early development destroys the potential to build a strong foundational framework for learning speech. No wonder there are so many oral/CI failures!

Jason Lamberton is a student pilot, progressing towards his life-long goal to become an astronaut. He will enroll in Gallaudet’s Masters program in Linguistics this fall, and was a Ph.D. student at George Washington University doing research on a 3-D ASL animation and gloved computer recognition of sign language (the AcceleGlove) — research projects which Jason plans to continue working on at Gallaudet. He has more interests than he can handle, and considers himself an autodidact — a self-taught person.

Sometimes I get pissed: I’m too nice
I don’t like it
because
I smile
nod
say:

“Yes, I’m deaf. No, not hard of hearing. Deaf. Yes, I use hearing aids. Yes, I read lips but don’t make me. Yes, I speak sometimes.”

And I stand
passive
look into eyes
of various colors
some real, some fake
the wheels turn, coins drop
neatly into their slotted categories with each answer.

“Yes, my parents - my whole family - are hearing. No, my husband’s Deaf. And my daughter too. No, I’m not happy or sad about it. It just is.”

I’m
too nice
submissive
with silence
voicing what they
want to hear or even see
watching as they form
stories onto my bodies
they think my face, my breasts, my mind
with their questions and my answers and their truths

“No, I didn’t sign until later. No, my family doesn’t sign. I cued. Yes, cued. Well, no, I don’t think it’s weird. Yes, it works. No, it’s not just for hearing people.”

If I really
had ovaries
or was proud
of the Deaf woman I am
I would speak, sign, shake my head, deny, seize.
This is my day. This is my life. I shall overcome and they shall pay.

“No, I don’t have an implant. Yes, I cue. No, not all cuers have implants. Um, obviously. No, I’m profoundly deaf. No, cueing doesn’t make my speech better.”

I’d forget
power is
an illusion like truth
and my truth and theirs are equally valued
mine by me and theirs by the world at large.
And sometimes even I forget my own economy.

“I teach English. No, I told you I was Deaf. Yes, I said English. No, really, I’m Deaf. Yes, I really am!”

If I
had really big ovaries
and they didn’t induce giggles
but reverent gasps like balls
inconstant penises,

I would stop their inquiries with my own coins
slotted into my own categories.

I would sheath my own intentions
and not worry, for once, about protection,
for my sake or for theirs.
I would gaze into
their face,
name,
brain
say:

My name is Alli. I’m a lover, a sister, a teacher, a student, a writer, a blogger, a reader, a slob, a procrastinator, a dreamer in no particular order. Pick a number. I hate pink because it reminds me of what that demonized thing called ’society’ uses pink for, but I still wear it because a magazine with a coupon for a free bikini told me it went well with my skin tone. I believe - like most people pretend at faith - that this country is going to hell even though there is no hell because too many people are preoccupied with going to hell. When I was little my mother told me there was no God so now I spend my days looking for Her. I have a sneaking feeling She’s hiding behind a corner laughing Her size sixteen ass off at us and me and all the capital letters I want to give Her. But it pisses me off when people and things hide or cower or deceive so I look and look. When I remember that I have a job to do and mouths to feed and cliches to abuse, I stop looking and I go home and dry-hump my government-sanctioned husband and hope that’ll get him to stop pestering me about the bills. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. When it does we turn the lights off and do tandem tactile from breastbone to pelvis but then we turn them back on to see what the hell we’re saying. Then he rolls over and I get a book and fall asleep with my teeth unbrushed and dream guiltily of flying away from my own body because it lives in this fucked-up world that tells me who I am. And then I wake up and think about how good I have it.

I really would.
But their categories
are foreign to me
just like their coins
I think they’re Euros
or maybe they’re just dimes
I don’t really know.
And if I inserted into their slot
my two-cent pennies
I’m pretty sure, pretty…
the machine would break
and it’d be my fault.
You break it, you buy it.

Me, the
Deaf
militant
cuer
radical
woman
whitetrash
uppity
whore
out-of-control
PMSing
heathen
ungrateful
lazyass
ball-buster
who doesn’t know shit.

That’s non-refundable, by the way, ma’am.

By Virginia L. Beach

As a member of the deaf blogosphere, I’ve observed how we interact with and treat one another in such an environment, and witnessed some of the debates and “heated discussions” that can occur. I’m not here to criticize the actions taken by any particular individuals or to state who is right and who is wrong. That’s beside the point. However, based upon the above-mentioned observations, I have come to think about the ethics of v/blogging. Hmm…this might get some of us thinking. Do we need a “Code of Ethics” within the deaf v/blogosphere?

Ahh…I can sense the outcry amongst the deaf community – “Rules? We don’t need no (bleeping) set of bloody rules! It’s my v/blog, and I will do as I dang well please!” Whoa…slow down. I’m not talking about establishing the “Ten Commandments of the deaf v/blogosphere.” I don’t like rules any better than most of us. I believe that if you are going to put your thoughts, opinions, and feelings on the Internet for the world to see, you are responsible for the outcome of such actions. Thus it is my humble opinion that those of us within the deaf v/blogosphere should have an inherent sense of ethics, and strive to maintain a high standard of morality. As we examine the definition and application of ethics to our v/blogging activities, not only must we examine our behaviors, but also how we define and implement our moral duties and obligations towards ourselves and towards others. Admittedly, this is no easy task. Morality and standards of behavior are very subjective by nature, and differ quite substantially from person to person.

I like to start with honesty, which as they say, is the best policy. And let’s face it – the deaf community is known for being brutally honest, which isn’t always a bad thing. I like such honesty. I always know exactly where I stand, because people will tell me that hard truth, no matter how difficult it may be for them to say it or for me to hear it. However, in most situations tactful honesty will serve you better. It generally gets you the same results, without pissing off a whole bunch of people. But honesty doesn’t just mean telling the truth, tactfully or otherwise. It also means being willing to look at things clearly and objectively, without prejudging, and coming to an understanding of it. That doesn’t mean you have to like it or agree with it, but at least you see it for what it truly is.

Next is to always try and remember: “Anyone else is just as important as I am. I am just as important as anyone else.” We are all individual people, with individual hopes and fears, dreams and goals…each of which matters, because each of us matters. When we come to understand this then we can achieve a balance, where all people on all sides of the equation are treated fairly and squarely. Keeping the above two concepts in mind, whenever I write a blog, or whenever I post a comment to someone else’s v/blog, I try to do so in an honest, respectful, and loving manner. Now, I want to clarify that that this doesn’t mean I can’t and don’t admit when so-and-so is being a total jerk. It doesn’t mean that I don’t see clearly when others are wrong and call them on it or that I make excuses for them. It doesn’t mean that I have to give someone endless chances — there are times when enough is enough. It simply means that I try hard to care about them all the same, and to recognize that their words reflect their thoughts, feelings and opinions…which in turn reflect their hopes, fears, dreams and goals.

And didn’t I say that anyone else is just as important as I am?

My own ethical framework tends to revolve around a belief in “harm none” - that as long as you harm no one, you’re free to follow your own will. Harm refers to interfering with another’s free will; lessening someone’s freedom of choice; causing unnecessary injury; damaging someone physically, mentally, or emotionally; or wantonly destroying something, whether that is a report, a relationship, or a reputation. Any time that you count your will (or your thoughts, or your opinions, or your feelings) as being more important than someone else’s will (or thoughts, opinions, and feelings), you are harming them. Any time you decide that what you want is what you will get, no matter what it takes, you are harming someone. Any time you attack with your words while v/blogging, without regard for what it may do to others, you are harming someone. Any time you go thoughtlessly about your own way, demanding your own say…and never stop to notice those around you, there’s a good chance you will harm someone before the sun sets.

This doesn’t mean that in the process of implementing my own free will, that there won’t be times that it clashes with someone else’s definition of free will. When this happens, I can end up in a “heated discussion” with others. But even then, it’s still important to treat everyone with honesty, respect, and love. Be calm and rational, but have reasons and objections ready. And most importantly, fight fair. One of my past teachers gave me her list of Rules of Fighting:

1. Be rational.
2. Stick to the point.
3. If you aren’t sure what the point is, ask for clarification or definition.
4. Don’t bring up a third party.
5. Don’t make personal remarks.
6. If you realize you were wrong, admit it. Everyone is wrong sometimes.

Remember — everything that we say and do has consequences that ripple through the world like a pebble dropped into a pond, and we are responsible for those consequences. Thus, the key is — before you publish that post or put up that comment, to think…to consider honestly and lovingly, and then to act consciously with full knowledge and forethought.
Hopefully by sharing a bit of my own sense of ethics, I’ve given you some food for thought in creating yours. I don’t expect them to be the same as mine — while they may contain the same basic framework, the finished system will be a little different. When it comes to how we would deal with specific moral problems, my answers are not necessarily your answers. That’s why we have ethics in the first place, and not just a code of laws. And don’t expect it to always be perfect, all the time. None of us are perfect, we all make mistakes. The important thing is to own up to those mistakes, learn from them, try to fix the damage, and then move on. That is the root of our ethical system, personal responsibility.

Virginia L. Beach has been studying ethics for the past 25+ years, and teaches a course on such for others. While admitting her own sense of ethics is far from perfect, she sees it as a valuable tool for helping her to grow and become the person she desires to be. Virginia gives special thanks to her family, friends and colleagues for their assistance, and especially to Robin Wood, whose writings and teachings have played a significant role in developing that ethical framework.

I love my Digital Influence class. It’s being taught by John Bell, managing director/executive creative director of 360 Degree Digital Influence. Public relations in the age of digital influence is about leveraging social media to create conversations with potential influencers. Heady stuff.

As much as I’m enjoying what I’m learning about in class, I’m becoming more and more frustrated that deaf people will be left behind again. When A.G. Bell patented the telephone (the true inventor was Antonio Meucci), he ended up isolating the deaf community, the very people he set out to help. Bell’s famous words, “Mr. Waston, come here,” was only the first of many technological milestones that marginalized deaf people.

We were managing to get caught up by working with the FCC to regulate access for television and telecommunications, then came along the internet. At first, the internet wasn’t so bad. It was still pretty equal footing for those of us who had a computer. Now, with the advent of Web 2.0, we’re about to be screwed, or, should I say, Bellized, yet again.

YouTube is becoming more and more popular as a means of exchanging information. Ditto for podcasts. My professor assigned the class a podcast to listen to, but luckily, I was able to get a transcript from him. What about the other podcasts with information that would benefit me, such as those from NPR or The New York Times? Much of this information is so new; traditional media hasn’t caught up yet. This information could be critical to a person working in a cutting-edge industry. We’d better get on the horn, and fast, if we want to remain competitive.

Why, oh, why doesn’t anyone use universal design principles?! We wouldn’t have to go to the FCC or Congress to regulate access every time a new invention rolls along.

Summer nights, hazy evenings, you’re sitting out on the restaurant patio, watching people walk by or you’re enjoying the summer breeze on your back porch, talking with your loved ones. It’s one of those nights when you’re in the mood for something refreshing, something tasty…but you’ve grown tired of mixed drinks? And you’re not in the mood for a beer? How about a glass of wine? But you’ve no idea what to pick.

I know the feeling.

Five years ago, I planned a trip to Europe, and some of the planned meals were accompanied with wine. I was nervous because all I’ve known was mixed drinks, particularly vodka. I wanted to try and appreciate wine while in Europe, so I decided to start tasting some of my dad’s wine whenever he opened a bottle for dinner. After a few bottles, I was beginning to feel hopeless. I didn’t like the taste of any of them, I felt like I was choking the wine down. How do people do this?!

Basically, I sucked it up. I tasted all kinds of wine while I was out on a five-week tour in Europe. There was even one incident, when I was at dinner with the entire tour group, and I was sharing a bottle of wine with two other guys. Both of them kept topping off my glass. I think that’s when I started to really enjoy wine. At the end of the five-week tour, I came home with three bottles of wine from Germany for my family to try.

I liked wine. But I didn’t know exactly what I liked. I definitely preferred white over red. But would try anything. Now comes the trial and error! I used to work with some ladies who enjoyed wine and champagne. That has helped refine my taste for wine, I learned that I liked Riesling and Gewurztraminer, the best (I Googled it, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to spell it correctly, if only I could pronounce it!).

Here’s a description of my favorite kinds of wine:

Gewurztraminer is a white wine that produces distinctive wines rich in spicy aromas and full flavors, ranging from dry to sweet. This varietal is a popular choice for Asian cuisines and pork-based sausages.

Rieslings are white wines known for their floral perfume. Depending on where they’re made, they can be crisp and bone-dry, full-bodied and spicy or luscious and sweet.

This link has a great description of all the wines you can think of!

I also lived with two other girls who loved white wine, so whenever we were in the mood to have some wine, we’d go off to the World Market, or some other store, spending some time trying to pick out some wines we’d like to try. Occasionally, there would be someone to help us pick some wines out (usually those turn out to be the ones we don’t like!)

I don’t know about you, but I tend to go about this strategy: Pick wine based on its labels. My mom says she does that all the time. It’s fun! but that’s not the only thing I look at, I also look at what fruits are made in the wine. I know I like citrus flavors, but not so much peach flavors. I’ve had quite a few hits with the wines I’ve chosen, now if only I could remember what they were!

Often times, I come across the dilemma, I’m out to eat and I want to have some wine with dinner. But I never know what to pick! I know the general flavors I like, but not all of the wine lists have descriptions of wine. This is when I ask the waiter to tell me a little about some of the wines that i might want to try and go off of that (I’ll be lucky if I completely understand what they’re saying). However, I think I’ve had more misses than hits when ordering wine while at a restaurant.

It’s hard to ask someone to recommend a wine that you might like, simply because everyone has a unique palate. Some are going to like drier wines, others prefer a sweeter wine. You also can’t always go by price because sometimes a pricey wine isn’t suited to your tastes.

Here’s what I suggest to do when ordering wine in a restaurant: the first thing is to decide whether you want white or red. That cuts your choices in half (if it’s a small group of people, choose one, but if you have a bigger crowd, perhaps try ordering one in red and one in white). You should also determine what will go good with what you’re eating. That’s as far as I can go with choosing wine. It depends on what you like! You should check out this list of suggestions on how to choose wine.

Now, you’re in a wine store or a grocery store and the choices are overwhelming! I know. I feel like that every time. Sometimes I try to remember what wine I really liked last time. I usually don’t remember the name of the wine, but on occassion I’ll get lucky and remember exactly what the bottle looked like. Now, I think you should be able to pick a wine based on the description of the wine. Also, location of where the wine came from does make a difference. You should also pay attention to how the wine is stored (upright or on the sides–wine is kept longer if stored on its side.) Try this website for some suggestions.

Now if you really want to learn what you like and don’t like, I suggest trying some wine festivals. Those tend to be fun, especially when you get a few friends to go with you. This gives you an opportunity to try the local wines, which I think promotes awareness of the environment. We have the Maryland Wine festival and the Virginia Wine Festival Incidentally, we’ve got something coming up for this weekend at Linganore Winecellars.

How do you choose your wines? Do you have any favorites?

It’s time to celebrate! Next month we will jump from one revelry to another — a few days after the fireworks of the 4th of July, we’ll be showing our national pride once again at an unmistakably American place — Buffalo Billiards for the DPHH on July 6th! This place won “Best Pool Hall” in washingtonpost.com’s Best Bets 2006 Readers’ Choice contest.

Blaise Pascal one said, “Thus so wretched is man that he would weary even without any cause for weariness… and so frivolous is he that, though full of a thousand reasons for weariness, the least thing, such as playing billiards or hitting a ball, is sufficient enough to amuse him.” This guy was some brilliant person from France, go figure. Well, my fellow Americans, unshackle yourselves from weariness and have fun playing the frivolous activity of billiards (or pool for those of you who don’t know what that is…).

This place has 30 well-kept pool tables and a snooker table (shorter version of the popular game). If billiards isn’t your thing, then there are five dartboards, five shuffleboard tables, two full bars, two jukeboxes and board games upon request from the bar. Monopoly anyone? Not to be outdone, Buffalo Billiards has six huge high definition projection televisions along with 20 additional TVs on the premises. Now that’s American pride, boasting about the size and quantity of your TV sets. If games aren’t your thing, when in America, do as the Americans do, socialize!

Hungry? Bypass the temptations of nearby eateries and sample the fare at Buffalo Billiards. According to the WaPo, their traditional burger-and-salad fare quality is better than most. Carnivores will want to try real buffalo meat at this establishment, just don’t think of the Gally bison while scarfing down your burger. And in the spirit of the 4^th of July, get the freedom fries! Don’t like to eat your meat? Try the garden burger. Microbrew aficionados, supplement your meal with a Buffalo favorite, Anchor Steam or Bass. See you at the July 6th DPHH!

Thanks to Viable for sponsoring the Washington DC area DPHH.

If you’re looking for a yummy, savory, summery dinner or afternoon BBQ nosh, look no further! I’ve played around with the ingredients to get the tastes right, and tonight it looks like I hit the mother lode!

Grilled Surf n’ Turf Kabobs with Pineapple
Garlic Ginger Shrimp Marinade
Olive Oil Steak Marinade
**vegetarians, follow the asterisks!

Ingredients:
one package diced beef tenderloin (about six large cubes, you will dice them)
one pound jumbo or large shrimp
one head fresh cilantro leaves
one small ginger root (about the size of your fist)
fresh garlic cloves (about 6, use more or less to taste)
bunch green onions (scallions)
one pineapple
6 baby onions (size of a half-dollar or smaller)
package vine-ripened cherry tomatoes
blend of green, red & yellow bell peppers
2 handfuls shiitake or cremini mushrooms
ground black pepper
worcestershire sauce
soy sauce
3 limes

Fill an oblong baking pan or casserole dish until the water level hits approximately the 1/2 inch mark; soak wooden kabob skewers so they won’t burn and splinter your food while on the grill. Doing this will also help you remove the skewered food with ease.

Steak Marinade:
To already diced beef cubes (about 24 pieces), add about 1/2 cup of olive oil, roughly chopped fresh garlic, juice of one lime, three teaspoons ground black pepper, mix in a bowl and let sit at least 20 minutes uncovered in the refrigerator (room temperature also works, but I find better consistency with a cold marinade).

Shrimp marinade:
One pound of large shrimp, peeled and deveined. Julienne green onions, and put in a food processor. Add freshly diced ginger root (about half of a root that is the size of your fist), three tablespoons soy sauce to the green onions; run the processor and add four tablespoons olive oil, 2-3 tablespoons worcestershire sauce, juice of 2 limes, half a head of cilantro. Process until the consistency is thick (about 30 seconds altogether while adding the above ingredients) and color is a dark brown-green. Mix with shrimp, and set aside in refrigerator about 20 minutes.

Using a pineapple corer, remove the insides of a fresh pineapple and quarter the slices. Set aside.

Prepare vine-ripened cherry tomatoes in a bowl, set aside.

Cut baby onions (about the size of a half-dollar) in half, remove skins, set in bowl and place them with the pineapple quarters & cherry tomatoes.

Take out either Shiitake or Cremini mushrooms (your preference, I like Shiitake better grilled) and leave them whole, depending on the size. If they’re big, halve them.

You can add cut, squared green, red or yellow peppers for more color and a better taste blend. Fire up the grill–if you use charcoal, allow about 15-20 minutes for the briquets to whiten, depending on the type you purchase. For convenience, I like Kingsford’s Match Light, they’re almost always ready to go within 15 minutes.

Remove the steak & shrimp from the refrigerator, and begin to assemble the kabobs, using your preferred combination (steak/onion/pepper/tomato/shrimp) or (pineapple/shrimp/tomato/onion/pineapple/shrimp) or (steak/mushroom/onion/shrimp/mushroom/steak), let your creative juices dictate the flow!

Set aside excess marinade (option: you can use a basting brush and dab the ginger shrimp marinade onto the shrimp while grilling–same with the steak marinade, onto the steak–keeping the seafood/meat moist will allow for a tender consistency)

Over direct heat (spreading the briquets evenly after they’ve whitened), cover-grill the kabobs–about three minutes per side, and place on a serving dish, cover to keep warm. Once all the skewers have been cooked, grab a frosty Corona (a sweet Riesling or a fruity Cabernet Sauvignon have worked wonders for my palate in the past, but there’s no substitute for a light beer with this meal!)

and simply enjoy! Generous portions more than enough for 2, should comfortably serve 3-4 people.

You can vary the recipe to your tastes; each time I make the ginger shrimp marinade, my friends have found it tasty, and I’ve never exactly prepared it the same way each time. I recently added the pineapple to this recipe, and I found that its naturally sweet taste brings a good balance to the sometimes tart taste of the garlic ginger marinade, and it complements the tenderness of the beef.

**For vegetarians, you can remove the meat and seafood, the grilled pineapple really balances out the acidity of the onions and the plumpness of the grilled tomatoes.

Bon Appétit!