Acts of Liberation

The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted (and Other Small Acts of Liberation), by Elizabeth Berg, 2008; Random House


If you're not a person who stays on top of new releases, then a trip to the library can be full of surprises. You can wander the aisles, thumb through the books on the shelves, stare at the wall of Staff Picks, and occasionally, you hit pay dirt.

And that's how I stumbled upon Elizabeth Berg's collection of 13 essays, The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted.

That's the great thing about authors like Berg -- she's always writing, always publishing, so you never know when you'll come across a book you haven't read.

Released in 2008, this is a departure from her fiction, although the essays read largely like excerpts from a novel. The title comes from the essay that bears the same name, and naturally, I read it first. And what perfect timing! On Easter Sunday, I ate whatever I wanted. And I'm pretty sure Jesus was OK with that. I'm also pretty sure he laughed when one of my friends insisted that the strawberry/crushed-pretzel/cream cheese salad with gelatin belonged with the salads and not the desserts. I argued with her, then decided, heck, it's Easter. Put it with the salads. And then I had four helpings. And that's OK because it's a SALAD and not a dessert.

To balance things out, Berg's essay "The Day I Ate Nothing I Even Remotely Wanted" chronicles a Weight Watcher's daily battle with a diet that allows only condiments like fake butter spray and a spritz of vinegar.

But the book is not all about food. "The Only One of Millions Just Like Him" tells the story of a husband and wife and their dying dog, and while it made me cry and think of my dog Penny, it was also laugh-out-loud funny.

And in typical Berg fashion, the truly poignant and sad stories are mixed in. I will admit that I skipped a couple of those. I saw them coming, and I simply skipped ahead to the next essay. That's the beauty of reading a collection of stand-alone pieces. The commitment level is really low.

The theme of these essays -- as you might have picked up from the book's title -- is liberation. How liberating to feel liberated. How free a person must feel to abandon rules and what I call "have-to's." A have-to is different that a rule or a law. A have-to is more like an obligation or a courtesy. Just think if you didn't follow a single have-to, even if just for a day. Pretend -- for just one day -- that nobody is watching you or your kids, nobody is looking at what your kids wear or how clean your house is, nobody cares how you will spend your morning or your evening, because in light of eternity, much of this stuff just doesn't matter anyway. Wouldn't you do a few things differently? Wouldn't you feel liberated? And wouldn't you feel like an Elizabeth Berg character?

From the back cover:

Every now and then, right in the middle of an ordinary day, a woman rebels, kicks up her heels, and commits a small act of liberation. What would you do, if you were going to break out and away?

And I would add, then go do it.