Nothing gives a person nutritional pause like being pregnant. I’m seven months along, and suddenly each ingested calorie is scrutinized and found wanting. Crunch (I’m hurting the baby). Swig (the baby’s going to have major issues from this caffeine). Chomp (maybe I should just lock myself up in a room and chew carrot sticks).
Eating properly can be daunting, especially when you have the mind-blowing responsibility of growing another human being. Of course, if you’re sans neonate, it is much easier to slip into the one-more-potato-chip-won’t-hurt routine, despite the exhortations of the latest Zone Diet book whizzing around your overcaloried brain.
We know we’re supposed to eat fruits and vegetables, and that fried foods are like a death sentence. Why is all this lovely knowledge not helping? A reasonable question, with diabetes an alarming national epidemic and fast-food sales the only thing saving the economy’s ass. It seems that sometimes we need a little nutritious nudge in the right direction, right around the time when Cheetos wend their way into the grocery cart in place of celery sticks.
Enter Paul Becker, Santa Rosa Community Market’s onsite certified nutritionist. The workers of the co-op market recognize the obstacles that impede a nutritious diet, and have put their hip vegetarian minds together to come up with a solution: half-hour sessions with Becker, where anyone who signs up can bare her soul, and maybe talk about nutrition, too. Cost to the customer? Zero.
I sat down with Becker to voice my own dietary dilemmas. Pregnant, full-time student, married to a junk-food-a-holic, a diet soda craver who happens to live for coffee—my rap sheet is a long one. After listening carefully to my story, he began without an ounce of judgment and with plenty of advice. “Eat a variety of foods,” Becker says reasonably enough.OK, but is it really possible to pull all of this off on such a busy schedule? “Being too busy is the concern of most people,” Becker says. His answer is to be practical, which means organization, planning and discipline. Prepare several meals on the weekend and freeze some to eat during the week. Each morning, prepare lunch for that day. Use a web-based program like AccuChef ($20) to organize recipes. Make a weekly meal plan and stick to it.
One person’s starting point could be another person’s far-off goal, Becker says, so it’s best to zero in on your individual needs and go from there.
An appointment with Becker is as easy as signing up on a clipboard at the market. Time slots are Monday-Wednesday and Friday from 4pm to 5pm; Thursday, noon to 1pm. With a little analysis and a lot of encouragement, anyone can be on the road to dietary success.
Santa Rosa Community Market, 1899 Mendocino Ave., Santa Rosa. 707.546.1806
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The Giants, post-Bonds: it’s like Candlestick again, they way it should be. People yelling “sit down, asshole!” to the guy standing in the way. Fans screaming on their feet when there’s two strikes on the opposing team. Total strangers arguing about the new guys in the infield. Old-timers in the stands yelling, “Bring back Candy Maldonado!” That kinda stuff.
The Black Keys – Attack & Release (Nonesuch): I’d always written off these guys as a retro act, because for years that’s essentially what they were. But for this completely excellent album, they’ve dropped all ties to Cream and sound off with fresh sonic fabric: there’s organ, flute, tambourine, piano, bass clarinet, and the whole thing has an incredibly warm, organic quality to it that their last album lacked. The songs are great, Marc Ribot and Ralph Carney are on it, Danger Mouse doesn’t cheese it up too hard and the whole thing’s a slam dunk. If this is the new white boy blues, sign me up.
Nick Cave – Dig, Lazarus, Dig! (Anti-): Homeboy is on a roll. I loved Abbatoir Blues, didn’t care for Grinderman, but this is back on track. “Moonland” has that great brooding quality, and there’s a few litanies with spoken-sung lyrics, as in “We Call Upon the Author.” Not too many people can pull off the sermon thing the way Nick Cave does, and he gets downright Dylanesque on the 8-minute closing cut, “More News From Nowhere.”
Boredoms – Super Roots 9 (Thrill Jockey): Other than Seadrum / House of Sun, there’s been no existing recording of the Boredoms that comes close to capturing the band’s mind-blowing live shows. Until now. This live set, from 2004, has the three-drummer setup with Yamatsuka Eye on electronics and—get this—a 24-piece choir. If you’ve been longing for more of the drum-based pounding that the Boredoms plunged headlong into at the turn of the millennium, pick this up.
Man Man – Rabbit Habits (Anti-): This will inevitably get compared to Tom Waits, but that’s not fair to either Waits nor Man Man. Sure, there’s circus elements, gravelly vocals, and stompy bluesy tracks (“Big Trouble”), but on the whole this is just a really quirky, creative record. Yes, the guitarist has obviously been studying his Ribot (“Easy Eats or Dirty Doctor Galapagos”) and the vocalist goes into those high squeaks that Waits nails so well (“Top Drawer”) but I don’t think Waits fans will find a lot here to embrace. It’s more of a Sleepytime Gorilla Museum thing.
Mountain Goats – Tallahassee (4AD): The victory of this day is beyond instant human comprehension, my friends. The Mountain Goats’ Tallahassee, after six years, has finally been released on vinyl. Praise almighty, 4AD! This was the second greatest album released in the year 2002 and remains the best Mountain Goats album by far. One of the most mesmerizing opening songs ever—such construction, such poetry—and “No Children” will fuck you up so badly you won’t know what hit you. Get this, get this, get this.
Just six years ago in 2002, a completely mixed crowd at the Phoenix Theater, much older, lost their heads and loudly sang along to every line of “Life is… Too Short.” Last night, in the middle of Too Short’s headlining set, the classic guitar hook came in and… nothing. Kids just stood there.
Freddie Hubbard, four days shy of his 70th birthday, staggered out onto the Yoshi’s stage last night with a flugelhorn and a menacing scowl. Mean and disorderly, he waved his arms to stop “Now’s The Time,” barking at the band. How dare they?
