The Collected Wisdom of Levi Adler Whitehouse
Levi was born after three days of ridiculously hard labor to our daughter Annie, on October 4, 2008. 10/4, good buddy. The quips were hard to miss from the very beginning, even the early wordless ones. The day I made us a tea party when he was three, and held up his pinky and laughed hysterically. But let’s start with his own proclamation:
“Levi Adler Whitehouse Boy Superhero. That is my whole, whole name.” – 2012, four years old
Levi, from a seat in the pickup truck, watching Stu hunting for a way to get down to the water for some fishing by a railroad bridge: “If Papa Stu gets into any trouble, I will have to get out and put some Ranger moves on the swamp monster.” – 2014, six years old
On a walk through squirrel-infested oak trees:
“Did you know that if you stare at a squirrel for a long time, he can hypnotize you?” – 2014, six years old
Levi, who takes his make-believe very, very seriously:
“Grandma, the boggyman is part of the vampire family.” – 2014, six years old
On our walk, half way to the park, Levi ran out of steam:
“Grandma, do you have any money?”
“Yes, Levi, why?”
“Could you call a taxi?” – 2014, six years old
Lamenting how much he misses us in the middle of a busy time at the restaurant:
“I know! You could make a robot that looks exactly like you, and it could do all your work, and you could come see me!” – 2014, six years old
Levi was certain he didn’t want any potatoes tonight, because he only likes “French fries.” What if, I asked him, we made French fries? And so he learned how to peal them, and then with very careful assistance from me, used my chef’s knife to cut them up.
Stu called from the couch, “How’s going, Levi?”
“Right now, Grandpa, I think the potatoes are winning.” – 2016, 8 years old
This morning, after he watched Papa Stu shovel the new snow off the driveway, Levi told him, “You deserve a medal and a bag of money!”
Stu asked him, “Where are you going to get a bag of money?”
And Levi said, “Take it out of Grandma’s allowance!” – 2016, 8 years old
After bath time, as Levi is putting on a pajama top, he accidentally poked me in the eye.
“Hey,” says Levi, devilish grin, “I’d never hit an old lady with glasses!” – 2016, 8 years old
For Levi, honesty has always been the best policy:
“Grandma, have you ever seen any R-Rated movies?
“Well, yes Levi, I’ve seen a couple. I’m an adult.”
“Oh, Grandma, you’re way past that.” – 2017, 9 years old
Stu and Levi are talking about playing Parcheesi and Stu says, “I don’t know, your Grandma always wins. When I met her I thought, that woman is a great game player. I oughtta marry her. Don’t you think so Levi?”
Levi thought about it a bit and said, “Well, she’s not perfect, but she’s the one who said ‘yes.'” – 2017, 9 years old
Early signs of a Real Estate mogul in the making: Stu posed a question to Levi while we all rolled sushi for dinner.
“You know we are selling our other house, and I was thinking when there is a showing tomorrow, since the house has no furniture in it, would it be good, you think, to put some cookies out for people to take, to make it more homey, or do you have another suggestion?”
“Well,” said Levi, “I would make a nice martini, and put it in the fridge to keep it cold, and then put a big sticky note on the fridge that says, ‘Open the door for a surprise for you!’” – 2018, 10 years old
Levi is visiting and he has been looking forward to providing “Light Saber Training” to younger neighbor Dillon, so this afternoon, after several hours at the pool with Papa Stu, Levi came home and excitedly donned his Luke Skywalker Cape (“Genuine dragon skin, Grandma, don’t put it in the washer”) and gathered up his light sabers, and headed out to the big shared lawn in our circle. A while later, I saw him sitting on a big rock in the middle of the circle, the cape wrapped around him – I can’t imagine how hot dragon skin is in July – while all the neighborhood kids, Dillon included, played on a slip-n-slide.
I wandered out to the rock. “What’s the matter, Luke?” I asked.
“Well, Dillon’s light saber training was supposed to start now,” he said sullenly. “But he’s just playing in the water.”
“Well, Levi, sometimes you don’t always get the disciples you want.”
“Yeah,” he said, “Jesus found that out the hard way. But then, three days later, he said, ‘You guys suck. I have to come back.'” – 2018, age 10
Levi, at Christmas dinner: ” You know, we never really see the true color of blood. It’s not red, it’s blue, but as soon as it meets oxygen, it turns red.”
“Really?” says another guest. Levi narrows his eyes at her.
“Never question a ten year old,” he says. – 2018, age 10
Levi and Papa Stu spent the afternoon at the pool, and returned home ravenous.
“What’s for dinner, by the way?” he asked in between scarfing down a handful of nuts and two oranges.
“Oh, it’s a ham and bean soup with lots of vegetables, and some corn muffins,” I said.
“Great! I said in the dressing room at the pool that what I needed for dinner tonight was something hearty!” – 2018, 10 years old
As we tootled around Hood River in my car, Levi reads aloud the sign: “‘Artifacts, Good Books, Bad Art.’ Hmm, I make some terrible art. Maybe I should make a deal with those guys.”
I said, “I don’t know why, Levi, but this feels like Saturday, not Thursday.”
“You know Grandma, when you’re driving around eating crackers with the windows down, and it’s summer, and you’re in Hood River, Thursday always feels like Saturday.” – 2018 10 years old
Stu and Levi talking about animals breaking into the house and how that is darn near impossible given that animals don’t have hands.
“That’s one of my greatest fears,” Levi said, “that panthers will get opposable thumbs.” – 2022, 13 years old
We packed the car to take Levi home to Eugene yesterday, and Stu went back to look for whatever Levi forgot (he always forgets something) and when Stu came back to the car, he motioned Levi to open his palm, and dropped in is hand the tiny plastic bowler hat from a bottle of Broker’s Gin.
“Here. You forgot your hat,” he told Levi.
Levi, deadpan: “I will cherish this forever.” – 2022 13 years old
Hanging out with Levi at Max and Hannah’s baby shower in Portland yesterday. He’s growing into such a tall and stately young man, nearing six feet already. I sat down on his lap, which made us both laugh. Such a minuscule time ago, he sat on my lap!
Levi quipped, “And what would you like for Christmas, little girl?” – 2022, age, 13
A Lot
by Levi Adler Whitehouse
Find a new person
Don’t recognize the shards of amphetamine
Reconcile wit da Henny and spiral,
Sold my soul to do the shit that I do
I made a band off of rappin bout sand
But when I tried to preach I realized the people that I teach
And the people I’m lovin’ I
Can’t reach no more cuz greed will feed em
More than the Lord of godly valor
Luring a brudda who ain’t neva known more different
Riches only known to those ones he be robbin’
I realized dis fallacy and then a wall in the metrix breached, I guess
I got too elaborate so let’s look at dis logically
Dr. Drew prodigy collaborating, calling me Kaepernick, follow me
Abandoned my lowly Negus crown on my head, no king is before me now
None will be left after the groove.
Music is love and love is the war so all is fair as far as I see
Demons among the deceased callin deadly brothers
Will die on the concrete regardless of roses or thorns or devilish horns
They live in they pearl white world, yeah
O like hell wit urbanity I feel insanity.
— 2023, age 15
Two passions: food, words. Some days, it’s a tug of war, some days, a peaceful coexistence.
Best day ever? Create it, cook it, eat it, write about it. I sold my restaurant, Nora’s Table, in 2015, and now I can be possessed by anything in the long day that I choose: writing 400 words, creating the next menu for the Chefs Collective at Ruby June Inn, teaching a cooking class at Jacob Williams Winery, or tromping through the fields with farmer Laurel Bouret.
A rainy afternoon with a foundational cookbook, such as Marlene Mater’s fabulous “Allepo Cookbook” or Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn’s “Charcuterie” can feed my spirit and spark my creative power. So can reading Maggie Shipstead, Michael Chabon or Alison Kraus.
I live in Hood River, Oregon, with Stuart, also known as the Happy Meal Man. In other words, all I can desire. And then there’s Satchel, our six-year old Idaho Shag who is simply the world’s best dog. We run together, and sometimes, we even let Stu join us.
Our oldest daughter Annie and grandson Levi live in Eugene, Oregon. Annie is cooking in restaurants, like her Mom. Son Max and his wife Hannah and our granddaughter Shiloh are in Portland, where he is a school principal. It’s a good tribe, all the way around.
