March 4: Saint Casimir and My Famous Cousin

So, I have a famous cousin.  That famous cousin's name has been thrown at me quite a few times in the last week.  If you recall, I recently wrote about my weakness for jealousy and envy.  More than one person who has read that post (February 26, 2011) has said to me, "I'm surprised you didn't mention your famous cousin."  My father, who is not even aware of my tiny flaw, handed me a People magazine last Sunday and said, "Do you want to read about your famous cousin?"  Everyone feels it necessary to add the word "famous" in front of "cousin" for some annoying reason.  Yes, that's right.  My cousin is famous enough to grace the pages of People.  In fact, a couple years ago, he made the "Sexiest People Alive" issue.  Whatever.

I have been blogging for over a year now, and I have successfully avoided this topic so far.  It's time to talk about the elephant in the living room.  I can no longer hide the fact that someone related to me is famous, successful, rich, and sexy.  My reticence has nothing to do with the fact that I'm trying to protect his privacy.  My reticence stems from the fact that he gets enough damn attention already without me adding to it with my blog.  But, due to how many times I've encountered my cousin's name and face in the past week, I think God is trying to tell me something.

My cousin's name is Grant Achatz, and he has, among his accomplishments, won the James Beard award for Best Chef in the United States for the year 2008.  He is one of the leading chefs in molecular gastronomy, whatever the hell that is, and his restaurant in Chicago, Alinea, was given the Five Star Award from the Mobil Travel Guide, one of only 16 restaurants nationally to receive that rating.  In 2010, Alinea was named the number 7 restaurant IN THE WORLD by Restaurant magazine.

Alright, all that's pretty impressive by itself.  But it's his personal story that's made him a celebrity.  In July, 2007, my cousin was diagnosed with stage 4 squamous cell carcinoma of the mouth.  Doctors wanted to take out a portion or all of his tongue and jaw.  He refused, opting for radical radiation therapy.  The treatments caused him to lose his sense of taste.  He has gradually regained his ability to taste, and now, in 2011, he is cancer-free.

That's my famous cousin.  He's a world-renowned chef, owns a million-dollar restaurant, and survived tongue and mouth cancer.  Sounds like the ingredients for a good book, doesn't it?  Someone thought so:  his memoir Life, On the Line was just released yesterday.  One of my best friends just called to tell me they're talking about making a movie out of the book, possibly starring Tobey Maguire.  My friend was laughing so hard when she told me this news that she could barely speak.  Another friend suggested my cousin should be played my Robert Pattinson.  "I'd go see that movie," she said in her best, Twilight-crazed fan voice.

Now, having a rich, famous, handsome cousin doesn't help me with my character flaw.  In fact, it's like having a mosquito bite that just won't stop itching.  I keep scratching and scratching and scratching.  And my friends don't help.  I'm sure Superman's friends didn't keep handing him kryptonite shakes every day.

Casimir, today's feast saint, wouldn't understand my little problem.  He was the son of the king of Poland, but he "had a horror of luxury and practiced many mortifications in secret."  Like any good saint, he had absolutely no interest in royalty.  In fact, he turned down the throne of Hungary when it was offered to him.  Casimir died at the age of 26 of tuberculosis in 1484.

Well, I suppose I should feel a sense of relief now that I have revealed my little secret about my cousin.  Now I can be jealous of him publicly and frequently.  Don't get me wrong.  I know Grant has had a difficult life.  He's worked hard.  He's faced an illness that, at the very least, should have ended his career and, at the worst, could have killed him. He overcame it, tongue, career, and life in tact.  And he's a freaking genius chef.  He deserves all of his success and money and good looks and world traveling.

Saint Marty's going to take his cue from Casimir.  Saint Marty's going to develop a horror of luxury.  Of course, Saint Marty needs to HAVE luxury first before he can be horrified of it.



Notice the family resemblance?