refined grains

One day, someone's going to write a memior with the corny title, Refined Grains.  Grains is a word that goes in many different directions.  We say against the grain, talk about the grain of wood, or the grain in the field, whole grains, or we refer to film, a carrier of memory, as grainy.  There are many different senses of the word.  I have given up sugar and, to the extent possible, refined grains in order to stay trim for running but also to keep my energy levels even at a time when I'm not getting too much sleep, as now. 

We've been getting to bed early enough to get a solid seven hours, but I keep waking up around two, maybe as a result of lingering jetlag, but it was also a very busy week, one in which the conference I've been helping to plan was finally and successfully staged.  So, glad that's over with.  It went really well.  I gave a paper that was well received (and maybe the dread of giving a talk was part of what bolting me upright at 2am all last week, our subconsious works in strange ways) and the invited speaker seemed to enjoy herself.  

It's funny how European aristorcrats used to refine grain as a sign of their distance from the whole-grain eating plebes; how different things are now.  I ran twenty this morning and then with Tammi went to Whole Foods for a few items, including a recovery breakfast burrito.  One thing I'll say about Whole Foods:  They signify authenticity or wholeness to their customers by postering the place with images of third-world women sitting or standing next to bags of coffee beans or rice, but you never see images of third-world men.  Why is this?  Despite all the self-congratulatory progressivism of many of their customers, the third-world man still poses a sort of existential threat that interrupts the equaniminy of the shopping experience, insofar as he is associated more with terrorism (or with the sordid poverty of the new immigrant) than with feeling good about food.  Certainly, there is a hidden continuity between the war on terror and eating organic or buying expensive produce.  Both are, in a sense, protective measures that aim to keep contaminants out, or to keep the interior free from invasion from the exterior.