New Beginnings

Hello all!

Things have changed since last we spoke. I have committed to an M.A. program in Library and Information Studies, for one thing. I have also moved and started a new job. Hurrah!

However with new beginnings comes change. I feel like I lost my way with this blog. While I don’t want to give up on it entirely, in the end I felt like it was easier to start from scratch. So I have a new blog! Join me at The Cheap CinemaFile (http://cheapcinemafile.wordpress.com) for discussion on film, books and more.

I wish you all the best and hope to see you at the new blog! As always, thank you for your time and kind consideration.

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A few words on being stuck

It’s been a while since I posted anything about beer. Well, this post is not going to break that streak. All I can say about beer today is that if you have been ill, don’t think you can jump back on the party bus right away.

Oh, beer, darling friend of old. Why must you turn against me now when I most need you? In times past you brought me to a mellow state of being. You loosened my tongue, allowing me to discourse at length to perfect strangers about the origin of your hops. Now you just wring every drop of moisture out of my poor, infected respiratory system and make me cough like an eighty year old smoker.

But why, you may ask, do I especially need beer now? It is because I am confronting the question that every recent college graduate must eventually answer: what am I doing with my life?

I graduated from Loyola University Chicago in 2010. My plan was to take some time off and recover from my incredibly stressful senior year and then apply to grad school. I thought I would get my masters, take another short break and then head on to the PhD. At first I followed this plan. I worked all summer and fall at a mind-numbing but restful job and made some money. Over the winter I applied for the M.A. in Renaissance and Early Modern Studies program at the University of York and was accepted. While an undergraduate I had lived for eleven months in London and had felt at home there; returning to England for graduate school seemed a natural fit.

But mid-visa application, I was struck by doubts. Why was I going to grad school? Was it because I wanted to be a professor? Or was it because I couldn’t think of anything else to do? I missed my British friends, but was that a good enough reason to commit myself to an academic program and its inevitable accompaniment, debt?

The answer was no. I withdrew my application.

Since then I have been floundering. In the words of a recent interviewer, I have been applying myself “to all kinds of different activities ad hoc.” I interned at a theatre for a while, tried to run a half-marathon for the AIDS Foundation (emphasis on ‘tried’), started this blog and most recently, attempted to start my career in the internet marketing field. Nothing has brought me the satisfaction I crave—though The Beer n’ Book Place has come closest of all.

While I was in school, I was one of the best. I worked extremely hard and was rewarded for my hard work with good grades and praise. Now I’m stuck.

I’m lost. And I have a cold. All I can do is put these words down on a computer screen and hope that somewhere out in the vastness of the Internet, someone reads them and thinks, “I know exactly how that feels.”

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Top 8 Under the Weather Books

Autumn is upon us, and with it comes the usual onslaught of ear, nose and throat infections. Alas, I have fallen prey to one such infection. I don’t get sick often, but when I do, man, do I milk it. Tea by the boatload, pajamas all day, OJ (premium, no less), homemade chicken noodle soup, Ugly Betty marathons on Netflix—I do it all.

However around hour five or so of TV watching I tend to get bored. My foggy head prevents “heavy” reading, but I have a list of old favorites I return to on a regular basis when my nose starts running. I present them here for your perusal. If you like, you can look at the list as ranging from itty bitty cold (#8) to full blown, Last-Rites-needed plague (#1).

8. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, J.K. Rowling. This one places low on the list only because it is a pretty long book. Unless you’ve managed to take off work/school on a Friday and plan to keep to your bed until Monday morning, you probably won’t get through it. But a little Harry Potter never hurt anyone. I like Prisoner of Azkaban in particular because it has such a neat, satisfying conclusion. Upon finishing it, you can lean back into your pillows and feel good. Well plotted stories like this one set a nice pace that will keep you interested through the hours but won’t overtire you. Plus you can pretend that your Robitussin is one of Madam Pomfrey’s healing potions.

7. Wintersmith, Terry Pratchett. Like most people I tend to get sick when it starts turning cold. And here we have a book all about defeating winter! Furthermore it features the Nac Mac Feegles, my favorite literary creations in all of Discworld. In the words of Pratchett, they are like “Smurfs who have seen Braveheart one too many times.” How can you not love that? Plus, Wintersmith‘s heroine Tiffany Aching is decidedly cuddly. She’s brave, clever and a little insecure—the perfect character to root for. For Pratchett neophytes, the book takes place in Discworld, a fantasy land resting on the back of four elephants which in turn ride a giant turtle through space. Tiffany is a recurring character. Like Harry Potter, she is a trainee magic user, but unlike the bespectacled boy she isn’t plagued by any pesky “Chosen One” complex. Like Prisoner of Azkaban, Wintersmith is a deeply satisfying book. It places higher because it doesn’t have all the twists and turns of the Harry Potter universe. There also aren’t any dementors, which I for one don’t want to think about when I have a fever. Instead this story about a teenage girl who does the best she can (and then some) when Winter falls in love with her will make you grin a little and snuggle up in the covers.

6. The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Elizabeth George Speare. As we get sicker, the books get shorter! The Witch of Blackbird Pond isn’t much longer than a novella. It is concise, has a limited cast of characters and a fast-moving plot. In fact, depending on your age, you may have already read it in middle-school. The Witch of Blackbird Pond is about Kit, a young woman who grew up on her grandfather’s plantation in Barbados only to be forced to move to Puritan New England. There she finds: Witches! Romance! Helpful historical details about corn husking rituals! And a cat. I still like to read it when I’m feeling ill because it’s an easy read. The only problem is that it was written for school children in 1958. So the overall tone of the book is, “Education is GOOD. Disrespecting other cultures is BAD. Here’s some corn husking!” All fine messages to be sure but a little one note. However I continue to rank Nat, Kit’s sailor friend, as one of my favorite snarky love interests of all time.

5. The Wolves of Willoughby Chase, Joan Aiken. Another one from my childhood! The Wolves of Willoughby Chase is a bit fairy tale with a bit of Dickens. It’s about Bonnie and Sylvia, two cousins left in the power of the eeeeevil governess Miss Slighcarp and her man friend Josiah Grimshaw after Bonnie’s ridiculously wealthy parents go on a cruise. They are aided by Bonnie’s friend Simon the gooseboy (seriously) who can do helpful things like make biscuits out of chestnut flour. He is also apparently in possession of a TARDIS since he can show up at will to save the girls from their many predicaments. Oh, and there are wolves that will eat you if you go into the woods after dark. How eeeeevil are our villains? Miss Slighcarp’s first words to her equally maniacal friend Mrs. Brisket are: “Gertrude. It is I. Our plans are going excellently.” It takes balls to be that much of a baddie. I took this book very seriously when I was young, but now I love it because it is so over the top. Perfect for a day in bed with the flu.

4. The Perilous Gard, Elizabeth Marie Pope. If you can’t finish this book in time for your afternoon chicken noodle soup, you are probably too sick to read. Weighing in at an easy-going 280 pages (with pictures!) The Perilous Gard will keep you entertained for at least an hour or two. Like The Witch of Blackbird Pond and The Wolves of Willoughby Chase, it was written before 1980, but it has aged better than either—probably because it doesn’t try to pound home some moral message. It’s a retelling of Tam Lin/Thomas the Rhymer, a folk story from the British Isles about a heroine who must rescue her love, a musician named Tam/Tom after he is taken by the Faerie Queen for nefarious purposes. How dark the story is depends on the author’s interpretation of why the Faerie Queen wants Tam/Tom. In the case of The Perilous Gard she wants to sacrifice the young man, here named Christopher Heron, to save her People Under the Hill. But heroine Kate Sutton is not having any of that. She’s a lot of fun, that Kate. The romance between Christopher and Kate is by turns cuddly and heroic, as Kate struggles to save him while also facing her own insecurities. The ending confrontation between the Faerie Queen and Kate is masterful. I love this book at any time. Short, clever and romantic, it’s a good choice for a sick day.

3. The Savage Damsel and the Dwarf, Gerald Morris. I have a weakness for romances, especially when I’m feeling down, and this one’s a doozy. Third in Gerald Morris’s delightful series about Arthurian England, this features a love triangle between damsel-NOT-in-distress Lynet, kitchen boy turned knight Beaumains and snarky dwarf Roger. If you know the story of Sir Gareth and the Knight of the Redlands, you’ll know how this story goes. Morris has a serious talent for taking the Arthurian tales and injecting Monty Python-esque humor. His first book The Squire’s Tale is one of my favorite books ever, but this one is more feel good. Morris’ humor is perfect for those who are going in and out of a fever (“Arthurian knights battling over the correct conjugation of the word ‘cleave’? Did I hallucinate that?”), and you’ll feel a warm, non-drug-induced glow at the book’s conclusion. Also, as is becoming a trend in this list, it’s nice and short.

2. Seven Strange and Ghostly Tales, Brian Jacques. I am particularly invested in this entry because it’s what I wanted to read yesterday when I was at my worst physically. Unfortunately my copy is still at my parents’ house two states away. Tragedy! I have read this short story collection many, many times. A fan of Jacques’ Redwall series in junior high, I received this slim collection for Christmas one year and immediately read it three times in succession. The stories won’t frighten anyone of the Saw generation, but there are a few that might send a chill down your spine. “Allie Alma”, the story of a girl who steals from the wrong lady, is particularly disturbing. Others are sillier, like “Jamie and the Vampires” and “The Lies of Henry Mawdsley”. My favorite is the good old-fashioned ghost story “R.S.B Limited”. The real reason why I place Seven Strange and Ghostly Tales so high on the list though is because if you find yourself too tired or ill to continue reading, you can just finish the story you’re on and then put the collection down, no harm done.

1. The Princess Bride, William Golding. Skip the introduction. Skip the passages in italics. Just read the goofy story of Inigo Montoya and Fezzik the Giant with costars Wesley and Buttercup. And when the fever overtakes you, when the chills start and you seem to have four hands, put down the book and turn on the movie. Enough said.

So. . . what are your tried and true feel-good books?

Wesley’s here to smite any illness that might come your way.

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Confessions of a Silly Book Reader

I have a confession to make: I am always on the search for a good silly book. Sure, my last post was about Anna Karenina. No matter—I love silly books too. Or, as the genre is often called, chick lit.

Having spent many years on my quest for the next good book to enjoy with a glass of wine (or maybe a nice lambic), I argue that it is the scarcity of genuinely good chick lit that fuels my love. The market is flooded with mediocre novels that work their way from the display racks of whatever bookstore chains still exist to the bargain bookshelves at Target. Many of these unworthy books eventually get made into surprisingly enjoyable movies. The most notorious (in my mind, at least) is Lauren Weisberger’s The Devil Wears Prada. Part tell-all exposé of the cutthroat fashion world, part sullen whine (“I worked so late that I had to take the company car home”), this terrible book was made into a really good comedy starring Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway. I can only imagine that Weisberger was banned from the set, lest she infect it with her malcontent attitude.

My happiness in finally discovering a really GOOD silly book was comparable to my disappointment in all the other bestselling examples of chick lit I had read—that is, it was considerable. Sophie Kinsella’s Confessions of a Shopaholic is a frothy, clever, completely unrealistic novel about the travails of Becky Bloomwood, finance journalist and uncontrollable spender. True to form, it was made into a film with the bubbly Isla Fisher in the leading role. But in this case the book trumped the movie. It isn’t just that Kinsella is good with her words. She’s a smart writer.

Becky is a deeply flawed personality, as many main characters are. She has a problem with spending money recklessly on meaningless consumer goods, which results in considerable debt. That she writes for a magazine called Successful Savings is a nice bit of irony, unbelievable though it is. In many novels, this would be enough conflict to cushion the entire story. But Becky’s problems go a bit deeper than that. Her lack of discipline hurts her relationship with everyone important: her parents, her best friend, her boss. And she never seems to learn from her mistakes. Over and over she resolves to improve herself, only to slip up again on the next page. Even her big reinvention is undone on the last page.

What distinguishes Confessions of a Shopaholics from other novels of its ilk is that Kinsella understands how flawed her heroine is. She doesn’t excuse her actions the way Weisberger does the main character of The Devil Wears Prada. Kinsella’s novel is a silly book to be sure, but it doesn’t treat its readers like they are silly. We can laugh at Becky, but we stop short of wanting to emulate her.

Confessions of a Shopaholic is the first in a series, but I’m going to hold off on reading the rest for a while. As the Starks would say, Winter is Coming. And I’m going to need a store of silly books to get me through the dark and cold.

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Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina: Snow, Adultery and Confusion

Oh Russia. Land of snow, oddly shaped cathedrals, corrupt politics, and most importantly, vodka. Why are all your novels so long? Is it because there’s nothing else to do during the interminable winter but read? Don’t you know how to make snowmen? Because, really, building a man of snow with two rocks for eyes, a carrot for a nose (or for a penis, if you’re a boy under the age of ten) and a bit of licorice for a mouth would probably alleviate a lot of your feelings of despair and helplessness.

I understand that I am giving the impression that all Russians are plagued by feelings of inadequacy in the face of mankind’s relentless march towards death. Having just spent the better part of a month reading Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, I feel that I am qualified to make that assumption.

Let me make this clear right of the bat: this novel is a masterpiece. It is simultaneously epic and intimate, masculine and feminine, religious and secular. It asks questions about the human condition, answers them and then asks them again. Having read it in translation, I can’t offer much commentary on Tolstoy’s language—though at the end of this entry I offer translator Joel Carmichael’s opinion—but the sheer scope of the novel is fascinating.

Anna Karenina follows two main characters: the titular Anna and the philosophically tormented Levin. The secondary characters number in the hundreds. Of the two mains, Anna is the more exciting. She is married to and has a son with Karenin, a bureaucrat who favors sarcasm to sentiment. Early in the novel she falls in love with a handsome nobleman named Vronsky. Her story is about the struggles her forbidden love inflicts upon her and how she is confined by Russian society. Levin, on the other hand, is defined by his seeming inability to take any action. He loves a girl named Kitty. After an excruciatingly long period of time, they marry. Several hundred pages later, they have a child. Also his brother dies at one point, and he has issues with the peasants who live on his estate.

In fewer than 200 words, I have just summarized the plot of an 868 page book. Good god.

Obviously, anyone who is looking for a fast paced, cohesive story is going to be at their wit’s end. The delight of Anna Karenina doesn’t lie in its plot. The plot of adulterous lovers has been produced millions of times in more interesting ways, and no one would ever describe Levin’s story as interesting. I would describe this novel as the quintessential adult novel. There isn’t any violence or sex (though babies do get made off-screen), but Anna Karenina is the kind of book that, when I tried to check it out of my grade school library, the school librarian would peer over her glasses and say, “I think this is a little beyond you right now.” I didn’t understand what she was getting at then, but I do now.

In this novel Tolstoy tackles ALL the questions which plague us as we become adults. Is there a God? What is my true vocation? How do I exist as a moral person and also a person of the world? What if I get ugly as I get older? What if my spouse stops loving me? What if my spouse starts loving someone else instead? Why am I here anyway?

Anna and Levin each undergo cycles of depression and joy in the course of the novel. They are both tortured by questions they don’t know how to answer. What makes them worthy leads is that they dare to ask these questions. For a reader to meet a character who feels the same confusion as he or she does and who dares to articulate this confusion is a powerful thing. And so, despite my occasional cries of “When will this damn thing end?!?”, I was genuinely moved when Anna commits suicide at the end. If she didn’t make it, there’s a chance I won’t either.

The merit in reading books like Anna Karenina is that we come away from the experience feeling as if we have made a friend. Someone besides you has felt uncertain about what life brought them. I don’t recommend this book, or any other for that matter, as an answer-all resolution to life’s problems, but sometimes it is enough to take respite with someone who can say, “Yes. I understand you. I’ve been there.”

I read the 1960 Bantam translation by Joel Carmichael. It is an enjoyable and accessible translation which appears to still be in print. Check it out on Amazon.com! And oh goodness. There is a film adaptation coming out soon. It’s directed by Joe Wright and stars Keira Knightley. The last films these two made together were Pride and Prejudice (2005) and Atonement (2007). I have high hopes for their Anna Karenina, though I have a feeling they will focus more on Anna’s shenanigans than Levin’s soul searching.

Joel Carmichael on Tolstoy’s prose:

“Tolstoy. . . has no style at all. He seems to be stringing statements together so as to convey all the facts needed to make up an unadorned description of real situations. He lacks the slightest interest in using language for its own sake, in order to show off virtuosity. Perhaps his writing is best characterized as flat-footed. . . .

It is, indeed, just this universal aspect of Tolstoy’s style that is so impressive. His flat-footedness means his planting the flat of an immense foot on whatever he wants to say, then pressing it into the reader’s mind with irresistible force. It is a question of acumen: what he has selected from among the myriads of available details can be depended on to convey exactly the impression he wishes to. At any rate that is the effect on the reader, whose attention is so absorbed the content of Tolstoy’s writing that its form—his ‘literary style’—seems to be a mere sheath, limpid and unobtrusive.” (872)

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A Visit to the Two Brothers Brewery!

After last week’s deviation into current events talk, we’re back on track with a post about that glorious beverage beer. You may remember that my favorite beer of summer was Two Brothers Brewery’s Dog Days Dortmunder Style Lager. Well, it turns out that the good people of Two Brothers are not only proficient at producing great beer; they are also some of nicest people around. They were kind enough to give my boyfriend Jeff and me a tour of their Warrenville, IL, brewery two weeks ago and even fed us! (Granted, we had to pay for the food, seeing as it was from their restaurant and all but still. . .)

The brewery is located in an industrial park in scenic Warrenville, Illinois. I use the word “scenic” very loosely. A nasty bit of construction slowed traffic to a standstill around the brewery, but that was okay as it gave me more time to serenade Jeff with Whitney Houston songs. When we finally escaped the traffic, we discovered that all the buildings in the industrial park were both identical and without sufficient signage. In the end we figured the building with the giant silo outside was probably the brewery.

At this point our high spirits had diminished somewhat. From what I had read on the Two Brothers website, the brewery had on the premises a restaurant which served organic meat, local products and other good things. This place did not look like the kind of place you would find such an eatery.

For some reason, Jeff leapt out of the car as soon as we parked. I thought I heard him say something like, “No more singing, ever again,” but I’m sure he was just tired of being in the car. I offered to sing a little Celine Dion to make him relax, but he opted to hustle us both inside instead.

And what a surprise was waiting for us! The restaurant (for there was indeed a restaurant) is completely at odds with the outside appearance. The lights were off, as the Two Brothers Tap House doesn’t open until late afternoon, but even in the dimness it is still an inviting space. The walls are lined with larger rectangular tables, perfect for groups, while smaller round tables are dotted through the room at intervals. It has more of a restaurant feel than that of a bar, but while we were eating there after the tour, there were still several people who came in just for a drink.

Our tour guide was one of the restaurant managers. After introductions, she took us through the back room of the Taphouse to the brewery proper. That’s right, the brewery is separated from the restaurant only by a wall. As we walked, she told us about the history of the brewery. Unfortunately it was so noisy that we didn’t really hear what she was saying. All I gathered was that the Two Brothers Brewery is actually owned by two brothers. But we stood there nodding and smiling like champs as she led us around the brewery, where people in coveralls were bustling around. It was very different from visiting somewhere like the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin where the tour is a planned out event complete with gift shop. This is a working brewery.

What was great about the tour was hearing about the substantial amount of growth which the company has experienced over the last few years. Our tour guide told us that a year ago she knew everyone who worked there. Now she sees a new employee every time she turns around. That’s wonderful news for Midwesterners who want more Two Brothers in their lives!

There is a gift shop on the premises, and we were happy to pick up some beers which are not available in Chicago. I got the Red Eye Coffee Porter, one of the brewery’s 15 Beers for 15 Years Anniversary Series. In honor of their fifteenth year of business, they are bringing back fifteen beers which have since gone out of circulation. The Red Eye was brilliant—not overbearing on the maltiness, chocolate/coffee overtones, and drinkable on even the hottest days of summer. I heard from one of the bartenders that it also goes well with ice cream. Coffee Porter Float, anyone?

Oh, and it’s 18-proof. I was a happy girl after finishing.

I recommend taking a trip out to Warrenville next time you have a day off. Hopefully the construction will go away soon. Whether or not you take the tour is up to you, but either way at the end of your journey there is a delicious meal and cold beer waiting for you.

[All photos are my own. I am not employed by the Two Brothers Brewery, though I would like to be.]

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Chick-fil-A and the Rights of Americans: To Eat Mor Chikin or Not

As I write this, the number one search term on Google is “Chick-fil-A”. Unless you live under a rock or in North Dakota, I’m sure you know that this is not the number one search term because of a nationwide desire for a 1000+ calorie chicken sandwich. The Baptist Press recently published an article in which Chick-fil-A CEO Dan Cathy replied to questions concerning his stance against “non-traditional” families with a pithy, “Guilty as charged.”

BOOM! a controversy was born.

Much like the upcoming presidential campaign, the issue has split America into two extreme camps: the overly intellectual liberals and the Bible-thumping conservatives. There seems to be no middle ground, no group of people willing to say to one another, “I understand and respect your opinion but cannot agree with it.”

There also doesn’t seem to be a lot of people interested in the FACTS of the situation. So I did some research.

Regarding the Cathy family:

  • Dan Cathy did not mention homosexuality by name in his interview with the Baptist Press. Regarding “non-traditional marriage”, he said:
    • “We are very much supportive of the family — the biblical definition of the family unit. We are a family-owned business, a family-led business, and we are married to our first wives. We give God thanks for that. . . We want to do anything we possibly can to strengthen families.”
  • The Cathy family has donated millions to different charities. Some (like the WinShape Foundation) are openly Christian. Many of these groups oppose the legalization of gay marriage. Other charities receiving funds are not religious. One such group, the AbleGamers Foundation, has refused any more funding from Chick-fil-A or the Cathy family. Its president and founder is openly gay.
  • In its marketing and in interviews with company leaders, Chick-fil-A has defined itself as a “company with Christian morals.” Hence its policy of closing its franchises on Sundays.
  • The Cathy family is behind the WinShape Foundation.  Among other things it provides retreats for heterosexual married couples, including one retreat specifically for couples entering into a stepfamily.

Regarding Chick-fil-A’s official policies:

  • Chick-fil-A is a privately owned company and remains the property of the Cathy family.
  • Chick-fil-A’s Company Overview makes no mention of the word Christianity. Its Mission Statement is “Be America’s Best Quick-Service Restaurant.” The only mention of any religion is found under the Closed on Sundays tab. You can read the statement here.
  • The majority of Chick-fil-A franchises are located south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Only 14 franchise locations are in the six states (and the District of Columbia) where gay marriage is legal.

Regarding reactions to Cathy’s comment:

  • The owner of the only Chicago-based Chick-fil-A location went on record to the Chicago Tribune saying that some of her employees are gay.
  • After Dan Cathy’s interview, elected government officials objected to building franchises in two states. One was in Illinois. Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel said that “Chick-fil-A’s are not Chicago values. They’re not respectful of our neighbors, our residents and our backgrounds.” The other objection came from Boston Mayor Thomas Menino.

In my mind, what we have here is an individual (Dan Cathy) speaking about his own beliefs. I don’t like his beliefs. He calls it “non-traditional” marriage, but what he is talking about is gay marriage. Otherwise, why would his foundation have a retreat for people going into a stepfamily? A stepfamily is not a traditional family.

I’m not a Christian, but I respect the Christian value of loving others as you love yourself. Dan Cathy does not love gay people as he loves himself, so I see him as both a disgusting person and a failed Christian.

HOWEVER we live in a country where freedom of speech is protected by the Constitution. To my mind, that means that Dan Cathy is allowed to dislike gay people. He can also dislike women, blacks, Hispanics, Asians, transgender people, or blondes. He is free to believe as he will. What he cannot do is act on that hate. In other words, he can think all Buddhists are going to hell, but he can’t throw rocks at them in the street.

Chick-fil-A is a privately owned company. Its CEO is free to do with its profits what he will. He can make a scholarship for midget dog-walkers if he wants. As long as he pays his taxes and doesn’t buy anything illegal, he’s in the clear.

So Chick-fil-A is allowed to donate to anti-gay groups if its CEO desire. They have not broken any rules. And I respect Dan Cathy’s right to hold whatever opinion he wants and that he can use his money in whatever legal manner he desires.

That having been said, should there be a national boycott?

Anyone who doesn’t want to give money to a man like Dan Cathy doesn’t have to. But boycotting Chick-fil-A isn’t like the colonists boycotting British imports in pre-Revolutionary Boston or African-Americans boycotting segregated businesses during the Civil Rights Movement. Those were widespread boycotts designed to change laws. Dan Cathy and Chick-fil-A haven’t broken any laws. So simply boycotting them (and no one else) won’t be enough.

I won’t be buying from Chick-fil-A anytime soon, but that’s isn’t enough to affect change. Dan Cathy is probably a good husband and father, but I doubt he will be changing his mind on gay marriage any time soon.  You can’t force individuals to change. You can only decide what is legal and what is not, and then wait to see who is strong enough to let the scales fall from their eyes. We should focus more changing the law and less on Dan Cathy.

What do you think? Will you be boycotted deep-fried deliciousness in the name of civil liberties?

[The original post was edited to clean up some wording in the last few paragraphs.]

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