An Unexpected Thanksgiving

Two weeks ago Thursday, Ms. Serensky raved about the food she typically eats for Thanksgiving. Although the conversation eventually turned absurd, as she declared, “Get me a raft that functions as a floating tray! God, I disgust myself,” I ventured to 7^th period thinking about my family’s Thanksgiving the past few years. My initial descriptors included “lame,” “pathetic” and “boring.” I craved the experience Ms. Serensky and my classmates described. Since freshmen year, my family has remained at home for the holiday and has “celebrated” in the absence of extended family. Spending Thanksgiving with only my parents seemed mundane and pathetic to me. At that moment I decided that I would blog about Thanksgiving between 4pm and 6pm on Thanksgiving Day. I would rant about my pathetic family and our lame celebration. I even found a picture for the blog of our pitiable table on my phone from last year’s Thanksgiving (see first picture below). I hyped myself up for this blog for the better part of two weeks. However, as Thanksgiving Day concluded, I realized my hopes for an epic Thanksgiving-bashing blog would never come true. I had actually enjoyed myself! As I sat down to begin my blog, I reflected on the day. I realized I had spent almost every hour with my parents, either watching the parade, commenting on the dog show, playing ping-pong or viewing movies. Our dinner was not unlike any other year’s dinner (see second picture below) yet the day seemed much more enjoyable than the previous Thanksgivings. I realized the catalyst for this change was not the amount of food on the table, but instead, the increased amount of time I spent interacting with my parents. I concluded that time well spent with those you love is more valuable than anything material, food or otherwise. I decided at once to cherish the remaining hours with my parents and write my blog the next day, with a more positive and grateful attitude than originally intended. This year, I am thankful for my wonderful and loving parents and the holiday of Thanksgiving, which helped me learn this life lesson. 

Wings, a Coke and Grammar

On Saturday, my family ventured to Station 43 in Aurora for some savory chicken wings. Despite the half-price special on a delectable item, very few people seemed to be dining in. We were seated immediately and ordered a few baskets of wings and some fountain drinks. After our waitress took our orders and our menus, I noticed the placemats sitting on the table (see picture below). The words “Open Sunday’s for Breakfast,” at the top of the placemat, jumped out at me. I figured someone had just overlooked the minor grammatical mistake, so without any hard feelings, I continued to scan the rest of the placemat. After about 15 seconds, I noticed that someone had added an apostrophe “s” to every day of the week. Questioning the intelligence and carelessness of the “proof-reader,” I then noticed that on November 5^th, Station 43 served “$2 Margarita’s and Corono’s.” Seriously? I could not believe what I was reading. The “author” of the placemat had not only, once again, confused plurals and possessives, but also misspelled a common brand of beer. I soon began to wonder how many people dine at Station 43 and notice this poorly written placemat in front of them. I wondered if it was carelessness or lack of intelligence that allowed for a placemat with glaring grammatical errors to be printed. In either case I find it completely unacceptable. Am I too impatient and critical? After finishing a delicious serving of wings, amidst mild frustration, I returned home and looked through the large pile of mail on the counter. A bright, lime-green brochure jumped out at me, so I began to sift through the seemingly endless number of magazines my mom receives on a daily basis. After a minute of sifting, I located the green flyer and read, “we will plow if there is 2 inches’ of snow or more.” Again? Another problem with possessives and plurals? Another grammatical error? Wow. I understand this is for a plow truck driver, but I feel as though any business owner, regardless of profession, should have the ability to proofread, spell check, differentiate between possessives and plurals and match subjects with verbs. If owners lack these capabilities, then they should find people who understand the basics of the English language and will proof-read their documents. Is this too much to ask? I’m still not certain if my impatience and frustration with grammatical errors stem from a year and a quarter of striving for AP English stickers, or if, I just cannot tolerate the ignorance and stupidity which seem to pervade our society.

Overachievers Expect Perfection

Each day, as I walk through the hall following class, I wonder if, as a class, we have criticized the characters in the book too harshly. I realize it may be easier to judge and criticize someone who repeatedly appears weak and pitiable through the text, but at times I feel as if we expect too much from a character or characters. After reading Othello, we discussed how our initial frustration towards the characters for failing to realize Iago’s evil intents was almost irrational since, in order to realize his tricks, the characters would have had to constantly question each others’ actions, something we today would refer to as paranoia. After realizing our unrealistic expectations from all of the characters in Othello, I would have thought that we would have had more patience with the characters in the The Namesake, but that clearly did not hold true. At least once every class period, someone, oftentimes myself, expresses frustration towards one character or another in the book. For instance, today we mentioned how people felt frustrated that Gogol rediscovered the book only because his mom encouraged him to clean out his room, not because he himself had the aspiration to explore a novel from his father. Other students expressed irritation that Gogol waited until the age of 32 to read a novel his father gave him for his fourteenth birthday. Do you really think a disappointed fourteen-year old, hoping for exciting presents rather than a book given to him because it relates to his name, which he hates, is going to enthusiastically and immediately read the book? I know on numerous birthdays, I have completely disregarded and dismissed “boring” gifts, despite the giver, and have never given those gifts another thought. I understand that Gogol should have displayed more interest, even if feigned, in the book, as not to completely dismiss his father, but I feel as if we must give Gogol a break. No one is perfect, and, perhaps, at the age of fourteen he might not have understood the story anyway. As I think back on the book as a whole, I realize that, had I been in Gogol’s position, with his father’s book, with his name, with the issue with Moushumi and her name and with Moushumi’s affair, I would likely have acted in a fashion similar to Gogol, and therefore I feel I have judged him too harshly throughout the entire novel.  

Two Names, Different Meanings?

Jhumpa Lahiri’s novel, The Namesake, has encouraged me to consider my name in a whole new light. Some people have always referred to me as “Emily” and others “Em,” without giving it a second thought. I have always responded to both names, yet noticed those few people who address me as “Em.” Recently, however, after reading about Gogol and his two names, I have paid special attention to not only the people who call me “Em” but also the times and situations when they do so. Before he legally changed his name, Gogol often used the name Nikhil when meeting new people. Additionally, he used the name “Nikhil” when partaking in actions which would not receive his parents approval, “He feels... protected as if by an invisible shield” (96). Although I typically write my name as “Emily,” I, unlike Gogol, have no real preference over which name I use, because, to me, they mean the same thing and refer to the same person. I have noticed in the past two weeks or so that only about four of my friends and two of my teachers refer to me as “Em” on a regular basis. This select group of friends includes the people to whom I feel the closest and with whom I have a very deep or long-lasting friendship.  I have also concluded that the two teachers who use “Em,” like my four friends, seem to know me the best. Through my increased focus on peoples’ use of “Emily” and “Em” in the past few weeks, I have determined that the use of “Em” likely represents a sense of familiarity and endearment. Because of this realization, I think my preference over the use of “Emily” and “Em” has changed slightly. I hope that people who feel close to me continue to refer to me as “Em” instead of “Emily” because it makes me feel somewhat special. However, I still love the name “Emily” and I do not take offense or resent the people who choose to refer to me by my real name instead of my nickname, “Em,” unlike Gogol who desires to only go by one name, “Nikhil.” 

Frequent Frustration

In Jhumpa Lahiri’s novel, The Namesake, Gogol and his name usage have consistently elicited my frustration. Since the beginning of the book, when, as a kindergartener, Gogol chose to use his pet name, Gogol, instead of his good name, Nikhil, I have felt frustration toward both Ashima and Ashoke. This frustration multiplies later when his parents neither objected to Gogol's idea for a name change, nor explained to him the significance of his name. In Chapter 9, during the wedding, Gogol flashes back to when he told Sonia his idea for a name change, ‘“You can't do that,’ she'd told him... ‘you can’t. Because you're Gogol”’ (221). Sonia, at the time, a mere thirteen-year old, serves as a foil to her weak and timid parents as she boldly asserts that her brother has no right to change his name. The juxtaposition in Chapter 9 of this opinion with the narrator’s statement, “he still felt guilty at times for changing his name,” makes Gogol appear pathetic, as his thirteen-year old sister knew he should not change his name. I feel by waiting this long in the novel to insert Sonia’s opinion on the name change, the frustration and guilt evoked becomes more focused toward Gogol and less on Ashima and Ashoke as the reader learns that although his parents did not object to the change, he received some guidance from his sister. My frustration increases with his inability or refusal to tell Moushumi how he feels throughout Chapter 9. For example, the narrator acknowledges that although “he hasn’t admitted this to her, he’d [Gogol] hoped,” that Moushumi might consider changing her last name to Ganguli “as a tribute to his father if nothing else” (227). Although in a strong relationship a wife may have the ability to intuit her husband’s desires, some blame remains on Gogol for not confessing to Moushumi his hope that she would change her name. This failure to speak his mind not only indirectly characterizes Gogol as weak and timid but also parallels Gogol to his parents, in their inability to speak up against his name change. However, I now realize I cannot entirely fault Gogol for his refusal to speak up, his parents modeled this behavior through allowing him freedom with his name and he allows Moushumi the same.