I suppose in the modern times it should be the LifeList all smashed together with capital letters distinguishing the actual words.
Whatever. What Ever. WhatEver.
A friend of mine who is very wise, hip, cool and, well, extraordinary in many ways, told me that the LifeList is quite different from the depressing (bucket list) denoted in lower case letters and in parentheses. In other words, bad dog, bad dog!
(bucket list) = things you do, then you DIE!
LifeList = Things you Do to Live!
Alex, I'll take Option B for 100 years of more life.
So, what is a LifeList, how big is it and what do you do? Well, it's surprisingly simple. The LifeList is as long as you want it to be, you do what you want to do and if you do everything on your list you simply make another one! How cool is that? Everybody gets an A, we all go to college, pass GO and collect $200.
I asked my colleague to review an actual LifeList and I was surprised to see some of the items on it.
Bake a soufflé.
Drive to Amarillo.
Photograph a turtle.
I looked at this and I said, "Geeze, Louise, I've done a lot of these things! What's so special about this list?"
Then Master Po spoke and I, Grasshopper, listened.
"First of all it's my list, not yours. These are things I want do, not things you or anyone else wants to do."
Master continued, "It's not a list to be accomplished before I die, or ever, or never. It's simply a set of achievable goals and objectives written down. One might say, Someday I will bake a soufflé. Or Someday I will drive to Amarillo. Or Someday I will photograph a turtle. But writing these things down, however big or small, puts them within my reach. Things that I can actually do. And when or if I exhaust the list, with the breath remaining in me, I can make a new list. And one after that, and one after that. So you see, Grasshopper, the list never ends, it simply changes as all things change."
I still didn't understand.
I complained, "There is nothing extraordinary on your list! No skydiving, no oil painting, no NASCAR racing. What's the point of having simple, easy stuff on your list?"
Master Po closed his eyes for a few minutes and thought. Finally, when he opened his eyes he said, "Perhaps you should start a list, Grasshopper, with 'learning to listen' as your first objective. This is my LifeList, not yours. What is important to me may not be important to you or Important to the World in a capital sense. It is my list. Personal to me. I, Me, Mine. If flossing my teeth every Wednesday was important enough to me to put on the lists, it would be a valid thing to do. I am mine and you are yours."
I thought about this and began to construct my LifeList.
1. Blog more.
2. Walk.
3. Pet my cat.
4. Learn some Japanese.
OK, I've got a start.
To Master Po I would say "kanishiwa" but he is Chinese, not Japanese. Sheh-sheh, Po.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Danube
We went up the Danube this summer. On a big boat, a river boat. Basically, two state rooms plus a hallway wide and bunches long. Flat bottomed, quiet, stable as in "not rocking around" and like a little hotel on the river.
We traveled from Budapest to Prague, sort of, not quite reaching Prague but getting pretty close. It was an interesting experience and something I'd do again.
The nice thing about a river cruise is that you can drop you stuff off in your room when you arrive and you don't have to pack up and leave until the trip is over. That was a great plus over other kinds of tours where you move every few days or so.
If it's Tuesday it must be Brussels!
Every day you stop at little towns along the river and get to spend a day wandering around looking at the sights. Mostly the sights are castles, things, more things, museums, things, more things and RESTAURANTS, my favorite! I found that after 15 minutes of looking around I was ready for a coffee, pizza, beer or all three. That was usually possible. There was nothing better than sitting in a cafe in the shade enjoying a coffee and watching the other tourists scurry around in the sun looking at "stuff" they wouldn't possibly remember once they got home.
"Oh, look, Alice, this a picture we took of something somewhere and it's Very Old and, Oh, look Alice this is another picture of the same thing we took two seconds later. Somewhere, I don't remember, but it's European, right?"
I contented myself taking pictures of young women in short skirts. I figured, in the scheme of things over time, that my pictures of young women in short skirts would trump pictures of something old taken somewhere sometime.
We'll see.
We traveled from Budapest to Prague, sort of, not quite reaching Prague but getting pretty close. It was an interesting experience and something I'd do again.
The nice thing about a river cruise is that you can drop you stuff off in your room when you arrive and you don't have to pack up and leave until the trip is over. That was a great plus over other kinds of tours where you move every few days or so.
If it's Tuesday it must be Brussels!
Every day you stop at little towns along the river and get to spend a day wandering around looking at the sights. Mostly the sights are castles, things, more things, museums, things, more things and RESTAURANTS, my favorite! I found that after 15 minutes of looking around I was ready for a coffee, pizza, beer or all three. That was usually possible. There was nothing better than sitting in a cafe in the shade enjoying a coffee and watching the other tourists scurry around in the sun looking at "stuff" they wouldn't possibly remember once they got home.
"Oh, look, Alice, this a picture we took of something somewhere and it's Very Old and, Oh, look Alice this is another picture of the same thing we took two seconds later. Somewhere, I don't remember, but it's European, right?"
I contented myself taking pictures of young women in short skirts. I figured, in the scheme of things over time, that my pictures of young women in short skirts would trump pictures of something old taken somewhere sometime.
We'll see.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Not a-Mused
Hello, Muse?
It is not your night off. Imma pretty sure of that. I'm waiting. Inspire me.
(taps foot)
Don't tell me it's going to be one of those cheap, under-the-wire NaBloPoMo posts just to get something written.
(stares at screen)
Well, let's go down the list of favorite subjects.
1. Cats. They slept all day and are sleeping now.
2. Bad drivers. Nothing out of the ordinary today. Everybody in their lane, moving at the posted speed.
3. Food. Leftovers. Nuked expertly. Eaten with a spoon out of a big bowl.
4. Weather. All is clam.
5. General. I may be developing athlete's foot. I'll keep my feet warm and damp and perhaps grow something worth writing about.
As for Muse, thanks for nothing. I hope you wake up with somebody else's underwear on your head.
It is not your night off. Imma pretty sure of that. I'm waiting. Inspire me.
(taps foot)
Don't tell me it's going to be one of those cheap, under-the-wire NaBloPoMo posts just to get something written.
(stares at screen)
Well, let's go down the list of favorite subjects.
1. Cats. They slept all day and are sleeping now.
2. Bad drivers. Nothing out of the ordinary today. Everybody in their lane, moving at the posted speed.
3. Food. Leftovers. Nuked expertly. Eaten with a spoon out of a big bowl.
4. Weather. All is clam.
5. General. I may be developing athlete's foot. I'll keep my feet warm and damp and perhaps grow something worth writing about.
As for Muse, thanks for nothing. I hope you wake up with somebody else's underwear on your head.
Monday, November 07, 2011
Side Effects
A guy I know takes several medications daily and he's always worried about "side effects." The other day I asked him why he was so worried and he said that the medication was supposed to relieve X or minimize Y or maximize Z but in some people it also did "other stuff."
"What kind of other stuff," I asked?
"Well, I dunno, but it's never good. That's why they're called side effects. Effects on the side, like getting a helping of fried okra at Luby's when you didn't ask for it."
"I like fried okra," I said, thinking about my fried okra-hating cholesterol level.
"A side effect," he continued, "is like finding hollandaise sauce on your chocolate ice cream, or chocolate ice cream on your steamed asparagus. Not a good thing."
I thought about the chocolate ice cream and asparagus and, you know, it might just work with some candied ginger and a dash of freshly ground black pepper. Note to self ...
I said, "Aw, come on! You're such a Debbie Downer," and by the look he shot me I was sure he was taking downers, too. OK, time for Plan B.
"Suppose," I said, "a side effect produced an unexpected but good thing, like suddenly being able to play the piano or juggle. That would be cool, don't you think?"
I was on a roll. "Or what if a side effect was to improve your vision or make you look like Harrison Ford." I thought about his wife who actually does look like Harrison Ford and immediately regretted that remark.
But, I was on a roll, take no prisoners, victory or death! "Why does a side effect always have to be a bad thing? A side effect could be cool. Occupy Side Effects, I say!"
My friend went quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he looked up and said, "Well, there is this one thing I noticed with my blood pressure medicine."
I thought, "OK, well, if he's going to tell me about a side effect that lasts over 4 hours, I really don't want to know. Awkward!"
But, he said, "I can talk to animals. Well, not all animals. Mostly birds."
"You can talk to birds," I said, suppressing the Obvious Teed-Up Softball - Let me guess, you Tweet them! Rather, I let my comment hang in the air.
"Yeah," he said, "it's uncanny. I can go out into the back yard and talk to the doves, the mockingbirds, blue jays, starlings and even ducks down by the pond. I can coo, chich-chich, raaaaak, breep breep and awk-awk-awk and, well, tell them anything."
"What exactly do you say to the birds," I ventured.
"Oh, anything and everything. How I'm feeling, politics, jokes, TV show reviews. Apparently, the birds are great fans of Parks and Recreation. Who knew?"
My friend was growing quite animated, walking around like a pigeon, then spreading his wings like a goose and hopping like a robin.
I couldn't resist. "And, what exactly do the birds say back to you?" I asked hopefully.
"Well," he replied smiling, "nothing yet. Just a bunch of twitter-jabber. But, I'm starting this new diuretic next week and I have high hopes. Yes, high hopes, indeed!"
"What kind of other stuff," I asked?
"Well, I dunno, but it's never good. That's why they're called side effects. Effects on the side, like getting a helping of fried okra at Luby's when you didn't ask for it."
"I like fried okra," I said, thinking about my fried okra-hating cholesterol level.
"A side effect," he continued, "is like finding hollandaise sauce on your chocolate ice cream, or chocolate ice cream on your steamed asparagus. Not a good thing."
I thought about the chocolate ice cream and asparagus and, you know, it might just work with some candied ginger and a dash of freshly ground black pepper. Note to self ...
I said, "Aw, come on! You're such a Debbie Downer," and by the look he shot me I was sure he was taking downers, too. OK, time for Plan B.
"Suppose," I said, "a side effect produced an unexpected but good thing, like suddenly being able to play the piano or juggle. That would be cool, don't you think?"
I was on a roll. "Or what if a side effect was to improve your vision or make you look like Harrison Ford." I thought about his wife who actually does look like Harrison Ford and immediately regretted that remark.
But, I was on a roll, take no prisoners, victory or death! "Why does a side effect always have to be a bad thing? A side effect could be cool. Occupy Side Effects, I say!"
My friend went quiet for a moment, deep in thought. Finally, he looked up and said, "Well, there is this one thing I noticed with my blood pressure medicine."
I thought, "OK, well, if he's going to tell me about a side effect that lasts over 4 hours, I really don't want to know. Awkward!"
But, he said, "I can talk to animals. Well, not all animals. Mostly birds."
"You can talk to birds," I said, suppressing the Obvious Teed-Up Softball - Let me guess, you Tweet them! Rather, I let my comment hang in the air.
"Yeah," he said, "it's uncanny. I can go out into the back yard and talk to the doves, the mockingbirds, blue jays, starlings and even ducks down by the pond. I can coo, chich-chich, raaaaak, breep breep and awk-awk-awk and, well, tell them anything."
"What exactly do you say to the birds," I ventured.
"Oh, anything and everything. How I'm feeling, politics, jokes, TV show reviews. Apparently, the birds are great fans of Parks and Recreation. Who knew?"
My friend was growing quite animated, walking around like a pigeon, then spreading his wings like a goose and hopping like a robin.
I couldn't resist. "And, what exactly do the birds say back to you?" I asked hopefully.
"Well," he replied smiling, "nothing yet. Just a bunch of twitter-jabber. But, I'm starting this new diuretic next week and I have high hopes. Yes, high hopes, indeed!"
Sunday, November 06, 2011
The Dawg
Kink hates the Dawg.
The Dawg loves Kink ... ish.
I would love to sniff you! I would love to claw you!
I would love to run with you! I would love to run at you!
I love your food! I hate that you love my food!
Give me some fur! No problem, it will be yours mixed with a little blood, also yours!
But I love you! Sorry, but your argument is specious.
The Dawg loves Kink ... ish.
I would love to sniff you! I would love to claw you!
I would love to run with you! I would love to run at you!
I love your food! I hate that you love my food!
Give me some fur! No problem, it will be yours mixed with a little blood, also yours!
But I love you! Sorry, but your argument is specious.
Saturday, November 05, 2011
Plan B ... and D, E, F and G.
Plan A was a seafood cocktail made out of boiled shrimp, crab, cabbage/lettuce mix, avocados, jalapeños, tomatoes and some kind of sauce made from horseradish, mayo, tomato paste and Tabasco.
Unfortunately for Plan A, I only had the shrimp and jalapeños. Well, rats, on to Plan B.
Plan B was sautéd shrimp in a cream sauce with feta cheese and bell pepper served on fettucini.
Unfortunately for Plan B, I only had shrimp and jalapeños.
Perhaps you're starting to see a pattern here. Further investigation uncovered some rice, mushrooms, a piece of salmon, green beans, ginger and I have lemon grass growing outside.
So, Plan C was to simmer up some chicken stock with sliced ginger and some smashed lemon grass shoots. While that was going on I wok-ed up (is that a verb?) the chopped jalapeños, green beans, mushrooms, shrimp and a shake of red pepper flakes. After removing the ginger and lemon grass shreds, in went the shrimp mixture, seasoned with a little salt and left to simmer.
Meanwhile, Plan D, was on auto-pilot: rice in the Zojirushi, press the pink button.
Plan E involved mixing in the wok some rice wine vinegar, minced ginger, minced lemon grass, soy sauce, heavy soy sauce, fish oil and a little honey, bringing the mixture to a boil and simmering for a few minutes until it thickened. After cooling for a few minutes I poured half of it over the salmon and let than marinade.
Plan F, eat the soup while the fish hangs out in the marinade.
Plan G, hot cook the fish in the wok three minutes a side and drizzle some of the remaining marinade over the sizzling fish to make a glaze.
Not bad for only having some shrimp and jalapeños.
Unfortunately for Plan A, I only had the shrimp and jalapeños. Well, rats, on to Plan B.
Plan B was sautéd shrimp in a cream sauce with feta cheese and bell pepper served on fettucini.
Unfortunately for Plan B, I only had shrimp and jalapeños.
Perhaps you're starting to see a pattern here. Further investigation uncovered some rice, mushrooms, a piece of salmon, green beans, ginger and I have lemon grass growing outside.
So, Plan C was to simmer up some chicken stock with sliced ginger and some smashed lemon grass shoots. While that was going on I wok-ed up (is that a verb?) the chopped jalapeños, green beans, mushrooms, shrimp and a shake of red pepper flakes. After removing the ginger and lemon grass shreds, in went the shrimp mixture, seasoned with a little salt and left to simmer.
Meanwhile, Plan D, was on auto-pilot: rice in the Zojirushi, press the pink button.
Plan E involved mixing in the wok some rice wine vinegar, minced ginger, minced lemon grass, soy sauce, heavy soy sauce, fish oil and a little honey, bringing the mixture to a boil and simmering for a few minutes until it thickened. After cooling for a few minutes I poured half of it over the salmon and let than marinade.
Plan F, eat the soup while the fish hangs out in the marinade.
Plan G, hot cook the fish in the wok three minutes a side and drizzle some of the remaining marinade over the sizzling fish to make a glaze.
Not bad for only having some shrimp and jalapeños.
Friday, November 04, 2011
Slow No
Word to drivers who can't drive.
You don't do yourself a favor by doing a crazy thing S-L-O-W-L-Y ! ! !
If you're turning up the down then doing that S-L-O-W-L-Y makes no difference. You are still a moron.
If you are doing a U-turn in front of a sign that clearly says No U-Turn, then doing that S-L-O-W-L-Y makes no difference. You are still a moron.
If you drive slowly because you think driving S-L-O-W-L-Y doesn't gain you attention, you are both wrong and a moron.
That is all.
You don't do yourself a favor by doing a crazy thing S-L-O-W-L-Y ! ! !
If you're turning up the down then doing that S-L-O-W-L-Y makes no difference. You are still a moron.
If you are doing a U-turn in front of a sign that clearly says No U-Turn, then doing that S-L-O-W-L-Y makes no difference. You are still a moron.
If you drive slowly because you think driving S-L-O-W-L-Y doesn't gain you attention, you are both wrong and a moron.
That is all.
Thursday, November 03, 2011
Out With the Old, In With the Gnu
Gnu trash cans!
Yea! I guess.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow when brand new trash trucks roll down the street to pick up our refuse out of brand new trash cans. All high tech and all. The containers come with instructions on how to place them in the street and what to put inside and how much and what not and so on and so forth, whatever. Awesome! You always have to throw in an "awesome."
I went around the house tonight gathering up stuff so we aren't seen as slackers on the first day.
We even have a special, larger bin for recyclable stuff like wine bottles and "somebody" suggested that we might need two of them. I really don't know what she meant by that remark.
But, be that as it may, clinkies and cheers to the new trash thingines. Salut!
Yea! I guess.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow when brand new trash trucks roll down the street to pick up our refuse out of brand new trash cans. All high tech and all. The containers come with instructions on how to place them in the street and what to put inside and how much and what not and so on and so forth, whatever. Awesome! You always have to throw in an "awesome."
I went around the house tonight gathering up stuff so we aren't seen as slackers on the first day.
We even have a special, larger bin for recyclable stuff like wine bottles and "somebody" suggested that we might need two of them. I really don't know what she meant by that remark.
But, be that as it may, clinkies and cheers to the new trash thingines. Salut!
Wednesday, November 02, 2011
Best Left Over
Some things are good out of the gate and some things are best Left Over.
I'd put chili and beef stew and my special spaghetti sauce in the latter category.
Things like flan and chocolate soufflé are best done hot. (That's what she said.)
Tonight we had left over chicken tortilla soup, augmented by fresh, roasted corn tortillas and a bottle or three of classy central coast zinfandel. If I remember correctly, the soup was quite good but, now, I think I need to take a nap.
I'd put chili and beef stew and my special spaghetti sauce in the latter category.
Things like flan and chocolate soufflé are best done hot. (That's what she said.)
Tonight we had left over chicken tortilla soup, augmented by fresh, roasted corn tortillas and a bottle or three of classy central coast zinfandel. If I remember correctly, the soup was quite good but, now, I think I need to take a nap.
Tuesday, November 01, 2011
Hello NaBloPoMo!
Here we are again in November. National Blog Posting Month where I am challenged, really, really challenged to write something every single day. We'll I've done it ever since I signed up back in 2006 and never missed a day. This month will be no exception although I do have a few days during which I will be traveling that will make it a little more difficult.
A few years ago, time flies and fruit flies like a banana, I decided to "upgrade" this site with the new Blogspot templates but my first attempt, and my second, third and fourth turned out to be such a big palava that I backed off to the original template. However, it needs to be done if for no other reason than to update my Favorites, some of whom have dropped off the InterTubes or have changed their domain or transmorgrified from moose to panda. (Long story)
So, this month, for sure, I'll bite the bullet, put my nose to the grindstone, untie the G-string and do the dirty deed to move into the Modern Age. Fortunately, you'll not have to listen to me screaming as I do this.
Now for my Driving Tip of the Week.
Hello, scrawny, pencil necked peckerwood brainless 20-something sitting at the Left Turn Arrow long after it went green because you were Tweeting some brainless poot like "Here I am sitting @ a lite." Watch the freaking light and when I politely beep your hairless ass a nice little "beep" rather than a long, New York, "HOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!" that you don't stick your boney little finger out the window and flip me off. No, sir, that's my job you pitiful little twerp.
And, p.s. , your left rear tire is low, not that you could use a tire pressure gauge given instructions in 10 languages.
Moron.
A few years ago, time flies and fruit flies like a banana, I decided to "upgrade" this site with the new Blogspot templates but my first attempt, and my second, third and fourth turned out to be such a big palava that I backed off to the original template. However, it needs to be done if for no other reason than to update my Favorites, some of whom have dropped off the InterTubes or have changed their domain or transmorgrified from moose to panda. (Long story)
So, this month, for sure, I'll bite the bullet, put my nose to the grindstone, untie the G-string and do the dirty deed to move into the Modern Age. Fortunately, you'll not have to listen to me screaming as I do this.
Now for my Driving Tip of the Week.
Hello, scrawny, pencil necked peckerwood brainless 20-something sitting at the Left Turn Arrow long after it went green because you were Tweeting some brainless poot like "Here I am sitting @ a lite." Watch the freaking light and when I politely beep your hairless ass a nice little "beep" rather than a long, New York, "HOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKKZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!" that you don't stick your boney little finger out the window and flip me off. No, sir, that's my job you pitiful little twerp.
And, p.s. , your left rear tire is low, not that you could use a tire pressure gauge given instructions in 10 languages.
Moron.
Monday, October 31, 2011
National Blog Posting Month 2011
NaBloPoMo 2011 starts tomorrow, November 1st.
Time to get back in the saddle.
Time to get back in the saddle.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Where Were You on 9/11?
Everybody was somewhere. More precisely, everybody is always somewhere.
"Where were you when" is a popular meme, party game or conversation topic.
Where were you when Kennedy was shot? I was in social studies class in the 7th grade. Our teacher, Mrs. Alford, returned from lunch looking pale and shaken and we all thought she was simply pissed off at us, which was the usual case. However, this day she steeled herself at her desk. I remember her sitting there, unnaturally, very erect, palms flat on the desk, looking down and composing herself. We had been studying government for several months. Finally, she stood up and started talking. First things first, we knew immediately that she wasn't pissed off with us because she didn't launch into her normal diatribe about lazy students, late homework and lack of appreciation for her vast teaching skills.
This time she started off quietly and started talking about democracy and America and the President and a bunch of rambling things. Finally, she blurted out (and began to cry) that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas. I remember several students in the room cheering. Kennedy was not all that popular in the South and this was a display of seventh grade ignorance at its best. Unfortunately, there are people to this day stuck in the seventh grade. Mentally and emotionally.
As Mrs. Alford was talking the school librarian appeared at the door. There was a pause. The librarian was crying and wiping her eyes with a little handkerchief. The room quieted and the librarian said, "He's dead. The President is dead."
There were a few more cheers in the classroom before the formidable Mrs. Alford brought order. We then spent the rest of the day, which was shortened, discussing the presidential succession order which we had been studying. Shortly thereafter school was let out and we all went home. I recall that school was closed for a few days as the country dealt with the assassination of a president.
Where were you on 911?
I was at work messing around with a pesky website I was building. I had CNN running in another window and vaguely heard a report about an "aircraft flying into the World Trade Center tower."
I blew it off. Probably a Piper Cub. Off course. Check it out later.
Then I got a phone call from a friend of mine in Odessa, Tx. who told me to check out the CNN coverage of a jetliner that ran into the WTC.
Jetliner? You mean a commercial jet? How could that be? Did air traffic control give the pilot the wrong coordinates? How could the pilot see that he was heading into a building?
So many questions raced through my mind as I pulled up live coverage of the accident, and also on the BBC which had a different and more rapidly updated feed.
The World Trade Center. I visited the security company ADT housed there in 1985. We stayed in the hotel (Hilton?) at the base of the towers. I remember the huge elevators that could hold 100 people, the observation deck where we saw the Statue of Liberty, the restaurant where we had a great meal and how you could feel the building sway in the wind. "You get used to it," our waiter said, nonchalantly.
I turned to my computer screen and couldn't believe the image being broadcast. One tower was engulfed in thick, black smoke. The reporters were falling all over themselves to explain what happened. However, in a few minutes it became clear that a giant jetliner had slammed into the tower, not a little, podunk Piper Cub that was off course.
How? HOW?? How could this happen? Had traffic control gone crazy? How could a jetliner be directed on a course that would take it crashing into a building?
I was on the phone with my buddy in Odessa watching the live video feeds from CNN and the BBC when the second airliner hit. Suddenly we saw this huge, orange and black fireball erupt from the other tower! At first we thought that the second tower had suddenly caught fire from the heat of the first tower, but within seconds reports started pouring in on CNN and BBC that it was not the case. A SECOND jetliner had hit the other tower.
Now, we were very confused! Clearly, something was wrong with air traffic control in New York that two jetliners had hit buildings. Yes, we had no clue at this time that it was a deliberate act. It was the farthest thing in our minds. I mean, who would deliberately crash jetliners into buildings? It had to be a monstrous accident.
In fact, it turned out to be a monstrous deliberate act.
Shortly, both buildings were burning furiously and CNN and BBC were replaying the strikes and receiving video from other viewpoints across the river and beyond. Then reports started coming in about the planes being hijacked and flown into the buildings.
A report surfaced that a jetliner had been flown into the Pentagon but no video was available at the moment. There was a sketchy report about a jetliner that had turned around over Pennsylvania and was heading back to Washington.
It was very strange and confusing.
Soon, all work stopped and we were gathered around computer screens, speculating and trying to find new video feeds to give us more information. Then word spread that the video was being projected in one of our conference rooms and we all went up to that floor to watch.
We had two, large screens in the conference room and the same CNN feed of the burning towers was being projected on both. The room was packed but I managed to find an open chair and sat down. The projector was very good and the two towers loomed large in front of me. There was a buzz of speculation, muted chatter and quiet conversations. This was history in the making, not a football game. Everybody was serious, studying the images in front of us and trying to figure out what was going on.
Suddenly, the antenna on one of the towers started to sway and somebody exclaimed, "It's going to collapse!" As we watched the tower collapsed from the top down, the sides splitting out and falling away. It just went down in a big grey cloud of debris.
The room was silent. Nobody could believe what they had just seen. Dust and smoke started to rise from the collapse and new video feeds from helicopters documented the destruction. I don't recall anybody exclaiming at the time of the collapse, but after it was over there were murmurs of "Oh my God" from around the room. There was nothing else to say.
Nobody left the room. The second tower was burning furiously. There was every expectation that it would collapse, too, and we talked about when it might go. Then somebody said loudly, "It's going!" And down it went in a big, grey cloud. By this time CNN was switching video feeds from a position on a building to a helicopter and we saw the extent of the devastation, at least in terms of smoke and dust. It was a huge, smokey, dusty blot drifting off across the harbor.
No more work got done that day. We watched the news reports, cancelled staff meetings and most of us drifted home early. Later we learned about Flight 93 over Pennsylvania and what happened at the Pentagon. It was a long and confusing day.
Years later the days are not quite so long but just as confusing.
"Where were you when" is a popular meme, party game or conversation topic.
Where were you when Kennedy was shot? I was in social studies class in the 7th grade. Our teacher, Mrs. Alford, returned from lunch looking pale and shaken and we all thought she was simply pissed off at us, which was the usual case. However, this day she steeled herself at her desk. I remember her sitting there, unnaturally, very erect, palms flat on the desk, looking down and composing herself. We had been studying government for several months. Finally, she stood up and started talking. First things first, we knew immediately that she wasn't pissed off with us because she didn't launch into her normal diatribe about lazy students, late homework and lack of appreciation for her vast teaching skills.
This time she started off quietly and started talking about democracy and America and the President and a bunch of rambling things. Finally, she blurted out (and began to cry) that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas. I remember several students in the room cheering. Kennedy was not all that popular in the South and this was a display of seventh grade ignorance at its best. Unfortunately, there are people to this day stuck in the seventh grade. Mentally and emotionally.
As Mrs. Alford was talking the school librarian appeared at the door. There was a pause. The librarian was crying and wiping her eyes with a little handkerchief. The room quieted and the librarian said, "He's dead. The President is dead."
There were a few more cheers in the classroom before the formidable Mrs. Alford brought order. We then spent the rest of the day, which was shortened, discussing the presidential succession order which we had been studying. Shortly thereafter school was let out and we all went home. I recall that school was closed for a few days as the country dealt with the assassination of a president.
Where were you on 911?
I was at work messing around with a pesky website I was building. I had CNN running in another window and vaguely heard a report about an "aircraft flying into the World Trade Center tower."
I blew it off. Probably a Piper Cub. Off course. Check it out later.
Then I got a phone call from a friend of mine in Odessa, Tx. who told me to check out the CNN coverage of a jetliner that ran into the WTC.
Jetliner? You mean a commercial jet? How could that be? Did air traffic control give the pilot the wrong coordinates? How could the pilot see that he was heading into a building?
So many questions raced through my mind as I pulled up live coverage of the accident, and also on the BBC which had a different and more rapidly updated feed.
The World Trade Center. I visited the security company ADT housed there in 1985. We stayed in the hotel (Hilton?) at the base of the towers. I remember the huge elevators that could hold 100 people, the observation deck where we saw the Statue of Liberty, the restaurant where we had a great meal and how you could feel the building sway in the wind. "You get used to it," our waiter said, nonchalantly.
I turned to my computer screen and couldn't believe the image being broadcast. One tower was engulfed in thick, black smoke. The reporters were falling all over themselves to explain what happened. However, in a few minutes it became clear that a giant jetliner had slammed into the tower, not a little, podunk Piper Cub that was off course.
How? HOW?? How could this happen? Had traffic control gone crazy? How could a jetliner be directed on a course that would take it crashing into a building?
I was on the phone with my buddy in Odessa watching the live video feeds from CNN and the BBC when the second airliner hit. Suddenly we saw this huge, orange and black fireball erupt from the other tower! At first we thought that the second tower had suddenly caught fire from the heat of the first tower, but within seconds reports started pouring in on CNN and BBC that it was not the case. A SECOND jetliner had hit the other tower.
Now, we were very confused! Clearly, something was wrong with air traffic control in New York that two jetliners had hit buildings. Yes, we had no clue at this time that it was a deliberate act. It was the farthest thing in our minds. I mean, who would deliberately crash jetliners into buildings? It had to be a monstrous accident.
In fact, it turned out to be a monstrous deliberate act.
Shortly, both buildings were burning furiously and CNN and BBC were replaying the strikes and receiving video from other viewpoints across the river and beyond. Then reports started coming in about the planes being hijacked and flown into the buildings.
A report surfaced that a jetliner had been flown into the Pentagon but no video was available at the moment. There was a sketchy report about a jetliner that had turned around over Pennsylvania and was heading back to Washington.
It was very strange and confusing.
Soon, all work stopped and we were gathered around computer screens, speculating and trying to find new video feeds to give us more information. Then word spread that the video was being projected in one of our conference rooms and we all went up to that floor to watch.
We had two, large screens in the conference room and the same CNN feed of the burning towers was being projected on both. The room was packed but I managed to find an open chair and sat down. The projector was very good and the two towers loomed large in front of me. There was a buzz of speculation, muted chatter and quiet conversations. This was history in the making, not a football game. Everybody was serious, studying the images in front of us and trying to figure out what was going on.
Suddenly, the antenna on one of the towers started to sway and somebody exclaimed, "It's going to collapse!" As we watched the tower collapsed from the top down, the sides splitting out and falling away. It just went down in a big grey cloud of debris.
The room was silent. Nobody could believe what they had just seen. Dust and smoke started to rise from the collapse and new video feeds from helicopters documented the destruction. I don't recall anybody exclaiming at the time of the collapse, but after it was over there were murmurs of "Oh my God" from around the room. There was nothing else to say.
Nobody left the room. The second tower was burning furiously. There was every expectation that it would collapse, too, and we talked about when it might go. Then somebody said loudly, "It's going!" And down it went in a big, grey cloud. By this time CNN was switching video feeds from a position on a building to a helicopter and we saw the extent of the devastation, at least in terms of smoke and dust. It was a huge, smokey, dusty blot drifting off across the harbor.
No more work got done that day. We watched the news reports, cancelled staff meetings and most of us drifted home early. Later we learned about Flight 93 over Pennsylvania and what happened at the Pentagon. It was a long and confusing day.
Years later the days are not quite so long but just as confusing.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Scam Me Once
How many times can you get scammed in Paris? Well, how many times do you blink your eyes? How many steps can you take? Think of a number between 1000 and 100000000.
That many.
Seasoned travelers we are, we were nearly scammed in Paris but avoided any loss and learned, nearly, from the experience.
Having just arrived at Charles de Gualle and made our way to Gard du Nord we were momentarily confused in getting from the train station to the tube station. Fortunately (not) there was a "gentleman" to "help" us. By "help" our guide meant to purchase our tickets then suggest that we pay him back in cash and, surprise, a local ATM was within reach. Once we realized the scam we was on we played along and went to the ATM but kept on walking and down a nearby Metro entrance. Once underground we shed our coats, switched bags in case the moron was following us and purchased tickets to out destination.
Who knows what would have happened at the ATM? The word to the wary is that NOBODY is interested in helping you in Paris. Just say No.
That many.
Seasoned travelers we are, we were nearly scammed in Paris but avoided any loss and learned, nearly, from the experience.
Having just arrived at Charles de Gualle and made our way to Gard du Nord we were momentarily confused in getting from the train station to the tube station. Fortunately (not) there was a "gentleman" to "help" us. By "help" our guide meant to purchase our tickets then suggest that we pay him back in cash and, surprise, a local ATM was within reach. Once we realized the scam we was on we played along and went to the ATM but kept on walking and down a nearby Metro entrance. Once underground we shed our coats, switched bags in case the moron was following us and purchased tickets to out destination.
Who knows what would have happened at the ATM? The word to the wary is that NOBODY is interested in helping you in Paris. Just say No.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Facebook and Google Plus
Well, Facebook has taken up most of my life in the past few months and now there's Google Plus which I can't figure out at all.
I think, seriously, I need to get back to basics on the blog and leave all this trivial stuff behind!
Please!
I think, seriously, I need to get back to basics on the blog and leave all this trivial stuff behind!
Please!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Failure, squib, pffffft!
Well, that was a failure.
The object of the previous exercise was to kick my butt into writing regularly.
Hmmm, need something else to fuel this.
OK, I've got it!
More later.
The object of the previous exercise was to kick my butt into writing regularly.
Hmmm, need something else to fuel this.
OK, I've got it!
More later.
Monday, March 07, 2011
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night 7
A distinguished gentleman sat in a burgundy leather chair, an Ekornes Stressless with matching footstool, trimmed in oak; so comfortable you hardly know your sitting, more like floating except that your nose isn't bumping against the ceiling unless, of course, you were in a room with a four-foot ceiling in which case it probably would be; bumping against the ceiling, that is; your nose.
Lord William observed the distinguished gentleman with an eye (his left, mostly, which was his best eye, rather, it needed the least correction to be perfect, although not in the Greek sense) and after a few moments of careful, if slightly nearsighted observation, pronounced,
"You look strangely familiar."
The distinguished gentleman regarded Lord William with an equally slightly nearsighted left eye, that, coincidentally was only slightly less nearsighted than his right eye, meaning that he could nearly see farther, more clearly with his left eye than his right eye, although he could drive a car without too many problems and had learned to ignore all the rude horn honking and yelling, which had become easier to ignore due to his partial deafness, but that's another story, and after taking a swig of his gin and tonic replied,
"Strange or familiar? Strange in a familiar way, or familiar in a strange way?"
Lord William thought carefully. Yes, he thought, I should have refreshed the lemon in my G&T, and answered, "B. Definitely B. I'll put 500 on B, Alex."
The distinguished gentleman regarded his G&T carefully, as a jeweler might regard a rough diamond he's about to fracture into either the perfect gemstone or a pile of rubble, and not the Barney kind. "Hmmmm, yes, you're correct," he said, "more lemon would be a definite improvement. Everything goes better with lemon, they say."
No sooner had the distinguished gentleman said "say" that ...
Lord William observed the distinguished gentleman with an eye (his left, mostly, which was his best eye, rather, it needed the least correction to be perfect, although not in the Greek sense) and after a few moments of careful, if slightly nearsighted observation, pronounced,
"You look strangely familiar."
The distinguished gentleman regarded Lord William with an equally slightly nearsighted left eye, that, coincidentally was only slightly less nearsighted than his right eye, meaning that he could nearly see farther, more clearly with his left eye than his right eye, although he could drive a car without too many problems and had learned to ignore all the rude horn honking and yelling, which had become easier to ignore due to his partial deafness, but that's another story, and after taking a swig of his gin and tonic replied,
"Strange or familiar? Strange in a familiar way, or familiar in a strange way?"
Lord William thought carefully. Yes, he thought, I should have refreshed the lemon in my G&T, and answered, "B. Definitely B. I'll put 500 on B, Alex."
The distinguished gentleman regarded his G&T carefully, as a jeweler might regard a rough diamond he's about to fracture into either the perfect gemstone or a pile of rubble, and not the Barney kind. "Hmmmm, yes, you're correct," he said, "more lemon would be a definite improvement. Everything goes better with lemon, they say."
No sooner had the distinguished gentleman said "say" that ...
Sunday, March 06, 2011
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night 6
... a dark and stormy night.
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"What, another shot?," Lady Helen intoned snidely.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen narrowed her eyes such that her eyebrows nearly met her ample chin, but said nothing. She turned on her well clad heel and marched out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Fuck me."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ... nothing.
I've been here before, he thought, the clack-clack-clack. Make it stop!
"Make it stop when, sir?" he heard a voice say.
Lord William turned towards the voice and saw ...
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"What, another shot?," Lady Helen intoned snidely.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen narrowed her eyes such that her eyebrows nearly met her ample chin, but said nothing. She turned on her well clad heel and marched out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Fuck me."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ... nothing.
I've been here before, he thought, the clack-clack-clack. Make it stop!
"Make it stop when, sir?" he heard a voice say.
Lord William turned towards the voice and saw ...
Saturday, March 05, 2011
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night 5
... a dark and stormy night.
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"You call that a shot?," Lady Helen laughed raucously.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen did her best puppy dog look matching a doleful expression with a come-hither look, but said nothing. She turned on her well clad heel and skipped out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Oh, baby."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"You call that a shot?," Lady Helen laughed raucously.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen did her best puppy dog look matching a doleful expression with a come-hither look, but said nothing. She turned on her well clad heel and skipped out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Oh, baby."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Friday, March 04, 2011
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night 4
... a dark and stormy night.
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"You need another shot?," Lady Helen whispered.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen eyed Lord William lustily. Her big, brown eyes glistened at the prospect for the evening, but she said nothing. Turning on her well clad heel she glided out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time, and aroused Lord William.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Oy vey."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"You need another shot?," Lady Helen whispered.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen eyed Lord William lustily. Her big, brown eyes glistened at the prospect for the evening, but she said nothing. Turning on her well clad heel she glided out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time, and aroused Lord William.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Oy vey."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Thursday, March 03, 2011
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night 3
... a dark and stormy night.
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"Want another shot?," Lady Helen shouted from the bar.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen observed her best patron admiringly. Seeing she was out of gin, she turned on her well clad heel and marched out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time, all the way to the storeroom.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed to no one in particular, "It's not just me."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"Want another shot?," Lady Helen shouted from the bar.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen observed her best patron admiringly. Seeing she was out of gin, she turned on her well clad heel and marched out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time, all the way to the storeroom.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed to no one in particular, "It's not just me."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night 2
... a dark and stormy night.
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"Oh, I was about to get you another shot?," Lady Helen cooed.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen narrowed her eyes such that her eyebrows formed a heart-shaped arch, but said nothing. She turned on her well clad heel and marched out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time, endearingly.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Lucky me."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"Oh, I was about to get you another shot?," Lady Helen cooed.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen narrowed her eyes such that her eyebrows formed a heart-shaped arch, but said nothing. She turned on her well clad heel and marched out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time, endearingly.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Lucky me."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Tuesday, March 01, 2011
It Was a Dark and Stormy Night 1
It was a dark and stormy night.
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"What, another shot?," Lady Helen intoned snidely.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen narrowed her eyes such that her eyebrows nearly met her ample chin, but said nothing. She turned on her well clad heel and marched out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Fuck me."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Suddenly a shot was poured.
"What, another shot?," Lady Helen intoned snidely.
"Only my third, my dear," replied Lord William, "to take the edge off. You agree, yes?"
Lady Helen narrowed her eyes such that her eyebrows nearly met her ample chin, but said nothing. She turned on her well clad heel and marched out of the room to a regular clack clack clack clack. And those clacks could go on for quite some time.
Lord William swirled his glass, took a long draught of gin and sighed, "Fuck me."
At that moment there was an audible *pop* to which Lord William turned.
In his amazement he saw ...
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Kink the Cat dot Com
Kink the Cat dot Com is the number one hit for the Google search "kink the cat"
That. Is. So. Cool.
Kink. Does. Not. Care.
That. Is. So. Cool.
Kink. Does. Not. Care.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
JFK - Words I Heard
Vice President Johnson, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chief Justice, President Eisenhower, Vice President Nixon, President Truman, reverend clergy, fellow citizens:
We observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom -- symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning -- signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three-quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe -- the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.
We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans -- born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage, and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
This much we pledge -- and more.
To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided there is little we can do -- for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
To those new states whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom -- and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
To those people in the huts and villages of half the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required -- not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge: to convert our good words into good deeds, in a new alliance for progress, to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support -- to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective, to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak, and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course -- both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
So let us begin anew -- remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear, but let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us.
Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms, and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.
Let both sides unite to heed, in all corners of the earth, the command of Isaiah -- to "undo the heavy burdens, and [to] let the oppressed go free."¹
And, if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavor -- not a new balance of power, but a new world of law -- where the strong are just, and the weak secure, and the peace preserved.
All this will not be finished in the first one hundred days. Nor will it be finished in the first one thousand days; nor in the life of this Administration; nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.
In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again -- not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need -- not as a call to battle, though embattled we are -- but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation,"² a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.
Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South, East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in that historic effort?
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility -- I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it. And the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world, ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.
We observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom -- symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning -- signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three-quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe -- the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.
We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans -- born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage, and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
This much we pledge -- and more.
To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided there is little we can do -- for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
To those new states whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom -- and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
To those people in the huts and villages of half the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required -- not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge: to convert our good words into good deeds, in a new alliance for progress, to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support -- to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective, to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak, and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course -- both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
So let us begin anew -- remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear, but let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us.
Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms, and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.
Let both sides unite to heed, in all corners of the earth, the command of Isaiah -- to "undo the heavy burdens, and [to] let the oppressed go free."¹
And, if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavor -- not a new balance of power, but a new world of law -- where the strong are just, and the weak secure, and the peace preserved.
All this will not be finished in the first one hundred days. Nor will it be finished in the first one thousand days; nor in the life of this Administration; nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.
In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again -- not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need -- not as a call to battle, though embattled we are -- but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation,"² a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.
Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South, East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in that historic effort?
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility -- I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it. And the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world, ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Imma Bad Person
Srsly.
I have bad thoughts.
Just today I watched a young lady pull her big, honking, planet killing SUV into a Handicapped slot just so she wouldn't have to walk another fifty feet to the supermarket. Oh, Miss Dainty Foot, is the bad old parking slot JUST OVER THERE too far for your widdle feetsies??
Come on, babe, I thought, let's see you limp. Bring on the limp!!
Well, she got out of her SUV, painfully slowly, and limped to the door.
This is where my Bad Person asserted himself.
I thought, YOU CALL THAT A LIMP? I've seen actors on TV limp better than that!
Imma Bad Person.
I have bad thoughts.
Just today I watched a young lady pull her big, honking, planet killing SUV into a Handicapped slot just so she wouldn't have to walk another fifty feet to the supermarket. Oh, Miss Dainty Foot, is the bad old parking slot JUST OVER THERE too far for your widdle feetsies??
Come on, babe, I thought, let's see you limp. Bring on the limp!!
Well, she got out of her SUV, painfully slowly, and limped to the door.
This is where my Bad Person asserted himself.
I thought, YOU CALL THAT A LIMP? I've seen actors on TV limp better than that!
Imma Bad Person.
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Kink the Cat Dot Com
Kink the Cat has his own website!
I may live to regret this, but I'm helping out the little guy by serving as webmaster. Yes, master is more like it! So, Kink gets pets, yummy cat food and Kat Snax AND his own website.
What's next? Calendars? Mugs? Books? Movie contracts? Move to Beverly Hills?
Time will tell.
Check it out at Kink the Cat.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Twelve Two Two Fondue 7 - Soon!
Hopefully, we will be streaming the Seventh Annual Twelve Two Two Fondue party, aka Flamingo Fling, tomorrow starting around 4pm CST.
See you at: Twelve 22 Fondue TV
Also, check out our sister party in Las Cruces: New Mexico Fondue
I'm melting with anticipation!
See you at: Twelve 22 Fondue TV
Also, check out our sister party in Las Cruces: New Mexico Fondue
I'm melting with anticipation!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Heard on the Phone
Hey, you got home OK?
Yeah, it was quite a trip. I had to go east to go west and my luggage went to Chicago and it was a mess.
Oh, well, I'm glad you finally got it sorted out.
Well, it would have been a whole lot better if you had sent a private jet to pick me up.
Long pause. Uh, OK.
Yeah, it was quite a trip. I had to go east to go west and my luggage went to Chicago and it was a mess.
Oh, well, I'm glad you finally got it sorted out.
Well, it would have been a whole lot better if you had sent a private jet to pick me up.
Long pause. Uh, OK.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Sad But True
Some things you can't make up. Overheard at a local restaurant:
Diner 1: Ugh, after Christmas I'm going to become a vegetarian!
Diner 2: Not me! I am strictly carnivore.
Diner 3: I'm quite happy to be an omnivore.
Blonde girlfriend of Diner 3, slapping his arm, exclaims: You are so not an omnivore! You'll eat anything!
Me: *facepalm*
Diner 1: Ugh, after Christmas I'm going to become a vegetarian!
Diner 2: Not me! I am strictly carnivore.
Diner 3: I'm quite happy to be an omnivore.
Blonde girlfriend of Diner 3, slapping his arm, exclaims: You are so not an omnivore! You'll eat anything!
Me: *facepalm*
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Orangette
My good friend, Molly, is the most talented person I know. She writes a blog, writes a column in Bon Appetit, runs a restaurant and authors books. Where does she get all this energy?
I think it's from Orangette, which is the name of her blog!
I decided to make orangette this weekend. I needed oranges, sugar and chocolate. What could go wrong with that!
Here's the blueprint:
Oranges
Sugar
Chocolate (semi-sweet drops did the trick)
Cut off the orange peel into strips. Boil them in water for 10 minutes. Refresh the water and boil them twice more. Meanwhile make a sugar syrup out of 3/4 cup sugar dissolved in 1/2 cup water. Boil the peel in that for about 15 minutes. Remove peel and place on a rack to "set" for about a day. They say an hour, but it takes much longer for the peel to dry.
Then dip the sugared peels into melted chocolate and you're done. It's messy.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Kink's a Winner! (We knew that.)
From my friend Jerry Coyne's blog. Jerry, a kat lover, ran a contest to provide a picture and a 250-word story about your favorite kat. I wrote about Kink, of course, and who wouldda thunk it, Kink won! Here's the posting from Jerry's website:
Kitteh contest winners!
December 11, 2010 – 10:08 am
I’ll announce the three winners of the kitteh contest today: the first two runners-up this morning (they’re in no particular order), and then the grand prize winner this afternoon. Winners: be sure to contact me via email to claim your prizes.
As I said, the celebrity judges had a hard time. There were about 85 entries, many of them awesome. Thanks to Miranda Hale, Russell Blackford, and Ophelia Benson for making the difficult choices. I’ll be highlighting many of the other entries over the next few months.
The first runner-up (and by “first,” I mean “presented first”) is the combination of Doc Bill (human) and Kink (cat). Remember that each entry comprised both a picture and a story. Here’s Doc Bill’s:
My Best Friend
This is a picture of Kink on his first day in his new home:
Kitteh contest winners!
December 11, 2010 – 10:08 am
I’ll announce the three winners of the kitteh contest today: the first two runners-up this morning (they’re in no particular order), and then the grand prize winner this afternoon. Winners: be sure to contact me via email to claim your prizes.
As I said, the celebrity judges had a hard time. There were about 85 entries, many of them awesome. Thanks to Miranda Hale, Russell Blackford, and Ophelia Benson for making the difficult choices. I’ll be highlighting many of the other entries over the next few months.
The first runner-up (and by “first,” I mean “presented first”) is the combination of Doc Bill (human) and Kink (cat). Remember that each entry comprised both a picture and a story. Here’s Doc Bill’s:
My Best Friend
On the day I brought Kink home we stopped at the veterinarian’s office. Poor little Kink, barely 4-months old, had been poked and prodded all morning long and now had to suffer one more indignity before going home.
Doc Geoff pronounced Kink a paragon of fitness.
Putting Kink back into his travel container I commented idly that I needed to swing by the grocery store to get a box.
Geoff looked at me over the tops of his bifocals and asked, “Why?”
“Well,” I replied somewhat uncomfortably, “don’t kittens live in boxes until they can, uh, get around?”
Geoff regarding me as if a Bocydium globulare had landed on his knee said, “I suppose.”
We made our farewells and, shortly, Kink and I were home. Doc Geoff’s voice, however, was lodged in my skull, “I suppose.” Over and over.
That afternoon Kink made himself quite at home eating cat food until he could hardly walk, running up and down the stairs and playing with all the cat toys. He took a couple of cat naps but was ready for bedtime when we all turned in.
I walked into the bedroom with Kink and said, “You know, I think he’d feel more comfortable if he slept with us for a few nights.” I placed Kink behind my knees where he purred himself to the Land of Nod.
Four years later he’s still there and I can’t imagine it being any other way with my best friend. Thanks, Doc Geoff.
This is a picture of Kink on his first day in his new home:
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Twelve Two Two Fondue Seven
Coming to a house near you!
Yes, you can host your very own Twelve Two Two Fondue at your house, invite your friends, have fondue and celebrate.
This year the International Fondue party will be held on all seven continents!
Ours will be broadcast on Internet TV, details to follow.
Meanwhile, get the cheese, get the pot, get the booze and get the friends and get ready for
Twelve Two Two Fondue Seven!
Yes, you can host your very own Twelve Two Two Fondue at your house, invite your friends, have fondue and celebrate.
This year the International Fondue party will be held on all seven continents!
Ours will be broadcast on Internet TV, details to follow.
Meanwhile, get the cheese, get the pot, get the booze and get the friends and get ready for
Twelve Two Two Fondue Seven!
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Not Again!
I remember distinctly when I took down the Christmas Tree.
I checked it carefully for any missed ornaments. I emptied the water from the stand and blotted it dry. I hauled the tree to the street to be picked up by the recycling crew. I carefully dismantled the stand, dried and oiled the parts and put it away for another year.
I did all this ... yesterday.
Yesterday!
What, are you kidding me, that was nearly a YEAR AGO??? No way! Can't be possible!
But, there I was this afternoon hauling down the well-oiled Christmas Tree stand from its lofty perch in the garage and afixing it to our 2010 Christmas Tree.
I'm sure I'll have a dream about afixing the stand every night for a month, only it won't be a dream. How does this happen? When I was a kid the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas was an e.t.e.r.n.i.t.y. We had time in school to get all revved up about Christmas by making presents, decorations, practicing Christmas shows and all sorts of things. Now it's put up the tree, put up the tree and put up the tree.
What happened to the time? How do I slow it down? How do I stop it!!!
This is an observation, not a complaint. Christmas is my favorite time of the year. I love the lights (even the Santa Helicopter next door), and all the confusion and joy. It's a great time of year. And I get to play Christmas music, although I'd play it year round given the chance.
Putting up the Tree again? I can't hardly wait!
(Neither can Kink!)
I checked it carefully for any missed ornaments. I emptied the water from the stand and blotted it dry. I hauled the tree to the street to be picked up by the recycling crew. I carefully dismantled the stand, dried and oiled the parts and put it away for another year.
I did all this ... yesterday.
Yesterday!
What, are you kidding me, that was nearly a YEAR AGO??? No way! Can't be possible!
But, there I was this afternoon hauling down the well-oiled Christmas Tree stand from its lofty perch in the garage and afixing it to our 2010 Christmas Tree.
I'm sure I'll have a dream about afixing the stand every night for a month, only it won't be a dream. How does this happen? When I was a kid the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas was an e.t.e.r.n.i.t.y. We had time in school to get all revved up about Christmas by making presents, decorations, practicing Christmas shows and all sorts of things. Now it's put up the tree, put up the tree and put up the tree.
What happened to the time? How do I slow it down? How do I stop it!!!
This is an observation, not a complaint. Christmas is my favorite time of the year. I love the lights (even the Santa Helicopter next door), and all the confusion and joy. It's a great time of year. And I get to play Christmas music, although I'd play it year round given the chance.
Putting up the Tree again? I can't hardly wait!
(Neither can Kink!)
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Insane Storage
My new camera, a Nikon D3100, produces pictures (at full resolution) that are 3.2 Mb each. With this chip I can store about 10 pictures.
Ten thousand pictures? Are you InSaNE? Are you cRaZY? Are you NUTZ?
It wasn't that long ago that a cassette of pictures was 12, 24 or 36. And you had to send it off to be developed. Double prints? Yes, please!
(Ah, that's going to cost you a pretty penny!)
Now, you can take 10 pictures for every 1 you would have shot back then and either keep them, discard them, print them or send them off to be printed, or publish them on-line in a variety of ways.
Where will it end? Cameras that shoot pictures at the atomic level? Time will tell.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
No Mo NaBloPoMo
Finally, it's the end of November!
Sort of like where did November go? And, yea, it's the end of National Blog Posting Month.
The next big event is the International fondue party on December 22nd. Get it, Twelve Two Two Fondue. Never mind, just be there, OK?
Sort of like where did November go? And, yea, it's the end of National Blog Posting Month.
The next big event is the International fondue party on December 22nd. Get it, Twelve Two Two Fondue. Never mind, just be there, OK?
Monday, November 29, 2010
Biscuits Better
I had a leftover to deal with. Turkey and stuff in a soup. Well, leftovers and leftovers. What to do? So, I thickened it with a roux of flour and butter, then whipped up a batch of biscuits and baked the whole thing.
The result? Sort of a turkey pot pie topped with biscuit.
The reviews? Rave!
I'll put this in my book.
The result? Sort of a turkey pot pie topped with biscuit.
The reviews? Rave!
I'll put this in my book.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Oops!
I was thinking to myself, "This is stupid. You're going to hurt yourself."
Right before the Kitchen Devil serrated bread knife sliced over the top of my knuckle.
Ohhh, that's gonna sting, was my next thought.
Kitchen Devil 1, knuckle skin 0
Right before the Kitchen Devil serrated bread knife sliced over the top of my knuckle.
Ohhh, that's gonna sting, was my next thought.
Kitchen Devil 1, knuckle skin 0
Saturday, November 27, 2010
My Dinner with Molly
I'm not a cyberstalker but I play one on TV.
That makes no sense to anyone born after 1970, I'm sure.
That said, I have a lot of virtual friends, people I've "met" over the Internet and with whom I've had many electronic exchanges, some very lengthy, but who I have never met in person. I don't remember the first person I met through the Internet but I remember the first most famous: Dr. Jill Tarter, director of SETI and the inspiration for the Ellie Arroway character in Contact by Carl Sagan and the movie by the same name, Jill being played by Jodie Foster. Well, one degree of freedom from Carl is pretty good right out of the chute! I wrote to Jill after reading an article in Science that provided her email address. It was a whim, and I was astounded when I got a reply. A very nice and thoughtful reply. We had a few exchanges and that was that.
My first Internet Fling!
Inspired by this success I boldly went where no electronic pen-pal had gone before and contacted, when possible, people who piqued my interest. Imagine my astonishment when the Poet Laureate wrote me a personal poem. And so it went.
Now, back to today's subject which is Molly. Molly is Molly Wizenberg who writes the Cooking Life column in BonAppetit magazine. I met Molly through her website, Orangette, and in time got willingly conscripted to help her test recipes for her upcoming book. My task was to follow her recipes exactly and not improvise. Out of character I assure you! But, I did it and what I learned was that Molly's recipes worked! I didn't need to improvise.
Which brings us to tonight. I'm doing Molly's Lentil Soup. Smells good and I'm looking forward to snarfing down the whole thing. I'll provide the recipe later but right now the timer went off and it's dinnertime!
That makes no sense to anyone born after 1970, I'm sure.
That said, I have a lot of virtual friends, people I've "met" over the Internet and with whom I've had many electronic exchanges, some very lengthy, but who I have never met in person. I don't remember the first person I met through the Internet but I remember the first most famous: Dr. Jill Tarter, director of SETI and the inspiration for the Ellie Arroway character in Contact by Carl Sagan and the movie by the same name, Jill being played by Jodie Foster. Well, one degree of freedom from Carl is pretty good right out of the chute! I wrote to Jill after reading an article in Science that provided her email address. It was a whim, and I was astounded when I got a reply. A very nice and thoughtful reply. We had a few exchanges and that was that.
My first Internet Fling!
Inspired by this success I boldly went where no electronic pen-pal had gone before and contacted, when possible, people who piqued my interest. Imagine my astonishment when the Poet Laureate wrote me a personal poem. And so it went.
Now, back to today's subject which is Molly. Molly is Molly Wizenberg who writes the Cooking Life column in BonAppetit magazine. I met Molly through her website, Orangette, and in time got willingly conscripted to help her test recipes for her upcoming book. My task was to follow her recipes exactly and not improvise. Out of character I assure you! But, I did it and what I learned was that Molly's recipes worked! I didn't need to improvise.
Which brings us to tonight. I'm doing Molly's Lentil Soup. Smells good and I'm looking forward to snarfing down the whole thing. I'll provide the recipe later but right now the timer went off and it's dinnertime!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thursday, November 25, 2010
First Thanksgiving
It was grand.
Rather, it was unexpectedly grand.
Eons ago, before the Internet, when we still got information from papyrus and clay tablets my friends in England where I was living at the time asked me if I could cook them a traditional American Thanksgiving dinner. Well, after eight pints of beer anything is possible so I agreed, "Sure! No problem! We'll have a feast to remember!"
Several days later I was reminded of my boast to roast and I was hoist by my own inebriated petard.
But, fearless is as fearless does and I set out to buy the stuff of stuffing and other stuff. I got a turkey, potatoes and plenty of wine and beer. If this didn't work out I hoped at least to create a Fog of Success.
I had no kitchen at this time, you see, and I would be cooking at a friend's flat. When they asked if Mark 4 would be a proper temperature to cook a turkey I said "yes" with more assurance than I felt. The only thing I remembered, dimly, about cooking was a Rule of Thumb: 20 minutes a pound plus 20 minutes. In short, although that's pretty short, it means: cook until done.
Well, to make a long afternoon short I produced my very first Thanksgiving Dinner in an unknown kitchen for a bunch of graduate students and friends. We had the turkey which we cleaned to the bones, mashed potatoes (my first attempt), candied yams (lots of guessing but no complaints), local vegetables cooked by my host and sous chef, all preceded and followed by copious amounts of liquid depressants.
Thanksgiving. Seriously, what can go wrong? Friends, family, food and drink. It doesn't matter if the turkey would be approved by Betty Crocker and the decorations certified by Martha Stewart. What is important is the day, being thankful that one has friends and food and drink, and to take pause from the Rat Race at least for a few hours to reflect on what is really important in life.
Happy Thanksgiving to All.
Rather, it was unexpectedly grand.
Eons ago, before the Internet, when we still got information from papyrus and clay tablets my friends in England where I was living at the time asked me if I could cook them a traditional American Thanksgiving dinner. Well, after eight pints of beer anything is possible so I agreed, "Sure! No problem! We'll have a feast to remember!"
Several days later I was reminded of my boast to roast and I was hoist by my own inebriated petard.
But, fearless is as fearless does and I set out to buy the stuff of stuffing and other stuff. I got a turkey, potatoes and plenty of wine and beer. If this didn't work out I hoped at least to create a Fog of Success.
I had no kitchen at this time, you see, and I would be cooking at a friend's flat. When they asked if Mark 4 would be a proper temperature to cook a turkey I said "yes" with more assurance than I felt. The only thing I remembered, dimly, about cooking was a Rule of Thumb: 20 minutes a pound plus 20 minutes. In short, although that's pretty short, it means: cook until done.
Well, to make a long afternoon short I produced my very first Thanksgiving Dinner in an unknown kitchen for a bunch of graduate students and friends. We had the turkey which we cleaned to the bones, mashed potatoes (my first attempt), candied yams (lots of guessing but no complaints), local vegetables cooked by my host and sous chef, all preceded and followed by copious amounts of liquid depressants.
Thanksgiving. Seriously, what can go wrong? Friends, family, food and drink. It doesn't matter if the turkey would be approved by Betty Crocker and the decorations certified by Martha Stewart. What is important is the day, being thankful that one has friends and food and drink, and to take pause from the Rat Race at least for a few hours to reflect on what is really important in life.
Happy Thanksgiving to All.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Ready to Launch, er, Lunch
T'was the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring except me and Kink in the kitchen cooking the midnight stuffing.
Here's the blueprint:
Kink and I are sitting here, smelling the stuffing cooking and already it's looking to be a wonderful Thanksgiving Day. Thyme will tell.
Not a creature was stirring except me and Kink in the kitchen cooking the midnight stuffing.
Here's the blueprint:
1 nosey cat
ground sausage (sage and hot)
Spanish onion
chopped celery
garlic
rubbed sage
chicken stock
cornbread
some chopped baguette
this and that
don't forget the chopped pecans
don't add anything weird like squid or "parts"
Cook, mix, pack lightly into a baking dish and cook at 350 for an hour or so, or less. Cool, refrigerate until the next day and use to stuff the turkey and serve as one of a million side dishes. Don't make enough for leftovers to prevent fights.
Kink and I are sitting here, smelling the stuffing cooking and already it's looking to be a wonderful Thanksgiving Day. Thyme will tell.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
They Gather for the Feast
Thanksgiving is upon us again. My favorite time of the year. Cool, crispness in the air. Autumn leaves. Chance of snow.
Or, as we say here in Houston, warm moist Gulf air, high humidity, hello Mr. Muggy and a certainty of condensation.
Preparations have started already. Lists are being made. Recipes discussed. Should we do something new? How about a tofu turkey? Uh, that gets voted down every year and I think it only gets discussed so it can get voted down.
The gathering this year will be much like previous years: giant turkey, trimmings to feed an army and enough wine to float a navy.
And, I'm sure after three or four rounds of my Famous Bean Dip appetizer someone will be in command of the air force.
Just saying.
Or, as we say here in Houston, warm moist Gulf air, high humidity, hello Mr. Muggy and a certainty of condensation.
Preparations have started already. Lists are being made. Recipes discussed. Should we do something new? How about a tofu turkey? Uh, that gets voted down every year and I think it only gets discussed so it can get voted down.
The gathering this year will be much like previous years: giant turkey, trimmings to feed an army and enough wine to float a navy.
And, I'm sure after three or four rounds of my Famous Bean Dip appetizer someone will be in command of the air force.
Just saying.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Dunning
"It's worth the drive," we were told.
"The road's a little narrow. Try not to end up in a ditch."
"It's a beautiful drive, if you get back OK, of course."
"I don't remember if your go right or left at the fork. If you take the wrong way you can't turn around."
And so began our journey to Dunning Vineyards near Paso Robles, California. I felt good about the trip because I had a rented car. Can't turn around, no problem, just leave the car and walk home.
Lions and tigers and bears! Oh, my!
It was a nice drive and a combination of good directions and small, handmade signs got us to the property. Up the hill to the left was a rambling, Central Coast farmhouse and ahead of us up the hill were rows of grapevines. To the right was a huge barn with a small sign on the door that said "Enter."
Charming.
We went in and were surrounded by rows and rows of giant barrels. The place smelled like wine and oak and sawdust and maybe just a hint of nutmeg.
In short order we met the owner and vintner who set us up with a row or four of glasses to sample the wares. Later that evening I was told that the sampling went great, the wine was great and we ordered a great quantity to be shipped to us in November.
To be honest, I had mostly forgotten we ordered the stuff when the doorbell rang and a straining UPS guy plonked down a box of plonk; "Sign here."
Tonight we uncorked the dream that is Dunning.
Dunning Vineyards
Take Highway 46 West from Highway 101 just over three miles to Oakdale Road. Head right onto Oakdale and drive one-half mile.Turn right onto Las Tablas Willow Creek Road and drive about 1.2 miles. Bear right onto Niderer Road and continue about one mile. Turn left up the path to the winery.
"The road's a little narrow. Try not to end up in a ditch."
"It's a beautiful drive, if you get back OK, of course."
"I don't remember if your go right or left at the fork. If you take the wrong way you can't turn around."
And so began our journey to Dunning Vineyards near Paso Robles, California. I felt good about the trip because I had a rented car. Can't turn around, no problem, just leave the car and walk home.
Lions and tigers and bears! Oh, my!
It was a nice drive and a combination of good directions and small, handmade signs got us to the property. Up the hill to the left was a rambling, Central Coast farmhouse and ahead of us up the hill were rows of grapevines. To the right was a huge barn with a small sign on the door that said "Enter."
Charming.
We went in and were surrounded by rows and rows of giant barrels. The place smelled like wine and oak and sawdust and maybe just a hint of nutmeg.
In short order we met the owner and vintner who set us up with a row or four of glasses to sample the wares. Later that evening I was told that the sampling went great, the wine was great and we ordered a great quantity to be shipped to us in November.
To be honest, I had mostly forgotten we ordered the stuff when the doorbell rang and a straining UPS guy plonked down a box of plonk; "Sign here."
Tonight we uncorked the dream that is Dunning.
Dunning Vineyards
Take Highway 46 West from Highway 101 just over three miles to Oakdale Road. Head right onto Oakdale and drive one-half mile.Turn right onto Las Tablas Willow Creek Road and drive about 1.2 miles. Bear right onto Niderer Road and continue about one mile. Turn left up the path to the winery.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Words of Wisdom
I have a good friend, well, more a cousin many times removed, whom I've never met who does something with food in New Orleans. Check down below during the Great Tasso Experiment and you'll find a link to his blog. Anyway, although we've never met it's clear we fell from the same tree.
Danno writes:
Exactly right. That's how I cook. Every meal is an experiment, done from scratch and following my instinct. Mostly usually all in all and, eh, give or take a few, my meals are rated by much gnashing of teeth and yum-yum sounds. Occasionally I produce a monster like the Not So Great Tasso Curry.
No pain, no gain. Judging from my weight I've had a lot of pain!*
Just today I was looking up recipes for corn bread. Corn bread, you say, who needs a recipe for corn bread? Well, nobody does, you just add a bit of this and a bit of that, squint at it and it's corn bread. Every once in a while, though, somebody will come up with a new trick that's worth trying if for no other reason than to hear your family complain about the nasty corn bread. Makes them appreciate the every day stuff all the more. I must say, the anchovy corn bread was not something to repeat.
Take boiled water, for example. Who would look up recipes for boiled water? I do! Turns out that if you add water to a pot a teaspoon at a time and stir vigorously, your boiled water will come out lighter and fluffier. I tried it and it's true!
So, get out there and check out those recipes. No telling how it will improve your every day fare!
*French for "bread," get it? Never mind.
Danno writes:
I never follow a recipe, but you can always find nine, or so, cookbooks open on my table when I’m cooking it. I always search for a new technique, they almost always turn out good, but once in awhile, there is magic in the pot.
Exactly right. That's how I cook. Every meal is an experiment, done from scratch and following my instinct. Mostly usually all in all and, eh, give or take a few, my meals are rated by much gnashing of teeth and yum-yum sounds. Occasionally I produce a monster like the Not So Great Tasso Curry.
No pain, no gain. Judging from my weight I've had a lot of pain!*
Just today I was looking up recipes for corn bread. Corn bread, you say, who needs a recipe for corn bread? Well, nobody does, you just add a bit of this and a bit of that, squint at it and it's corn bread. Every once in a while, though, somebody will come up with a new trick that's worth trying if for no other reason than to hear your family complain about the nasty corn bread. Makes them appreciate the every day stuff all the more. I must say, the anchovy corn bread was not something to repeat.
Take boiled water, for example. Who would look up recipes for boiled water? I do! Turns out that if you add water to a pot a teaspoon at a time and stir vigorously, your boiled water will come out lighter and fluffier. I tried it and it's true!
So, get out there and check out those recipes. No telling how it will improve your every day fare!
*French for "bread," get it? Never mind.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Tasso Curry. Just Say No.
I had a brainstorm while working on a curry dinner. What if I boiled up some lentils and added my freshly smoked Tasso. I wonder what that would be like? Also, I could add some red curry paste. That should zing it up a notch.
OK, don't try this at home.
Seriously. Smoked ham curry is not a good thing. Yeah, you can eat it if you try and if you're very, very hungry. Take my word for it, curry spices and smoked ham are like peanut butter and chocolate. No, that's wrong. More like peanut butter on a filet mignon.
Just don't do it.
Ever.
Pinky swear.
OK, don't try this at home.
Seriously. Smoked ham curry is not a good thing. Yeah, you can eat it if you try and if you're very, very hungry. Take my word for it, curry spices and smoked ham are like peanut butter and chocolate. No, that's wrong. More like peanut butter on a filet mignon.
Just don't do it.
Ever.
Pinky swear.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Tasso Done. Now What?
Here it is, the final product. Seasoned smoked pork loin.
Parts of it look ham-like, but nothing like the infamous Ham Ribs, nor is nearly as salty since I didn't soak it in brine overnight. However, I thought it would come out a bit more pink.
Alas. Tasso version 1.0
Now comes the big question. What to do with it. For now I'll break it into smaller pieces, bag it and freeze it.
Parts of it look ham-like, but nothing like the infamous Ham Ribs, nor is nearly as salty since I didn't soak it in brine overnight. However, I thought it would come out a bit more pink.
Alas. Tasso version 1.0
Now comes the big question. What to do with it. For now I'll break it into smaller pieces, bag it and freeze it.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Henryk Górecki
Polish composer Henryk Górecki died on November 12th leaving behind a small body of work and one very remarkable piece, the Symphony Number 3, Symphony of Sorrowful Songs. Although this piece was composed in 1976, it gained prominence and worldwide fame in a 1992 London recording by conductor David Zinman featuring soprano Dawn Upshaw.
I remember hearing a report on NPR while driving to work about this piece and they played a bit of it. It might have been the second movement; I don't remember and I haven't been able to find the original audio report. However, this much I do know. For the first time ever I pulled over, stopped the car and listened to the rest of the report. I fished around for a scrap of paper to write down then name of this composer and I only got part of it right: Goriki. Polish. Symphony.
I put the scrap of paper in my wallet and carried it around for a year, stopping in every music store I visited looking for this recording. I looked locally and when I travelled I checked out music stores but to no avail. This is before Google and Amazon, remember! (How did we survive?)
Anyway, over a year later I was in Phoenix and while browsing a large music store there I found it. Under the letter G in the classical section. Symphony No. 3. I bought it.
Although the first few times I played the piece I really enjoyed it, my epiphany didn't come until one fateful evening, home alone, I decided to follow along with the program notes and read the lyrics in English because the symphony was sung in Polish.
My life was changed. Forever.
Once I read the lyrics and understood the Sorrowful Songs I understood. I felt the pain, the anguish, the despair, the hopelessness and the hope, the healing and the optimism. All at once. Unfortunately, or maybe it's a gift, I can no longer just enjoy the music for music's sake. I know what it means and it affects me profoundly.
The songs are about loss, fear, anxiety, all the horrors of war and love. Ultimately love. Love for lost ones. Love for hope. Love for loved ones.
"And you, God's little flowers
May you blossom all around
So that my son
May sleep happily."
In talking with people who have listened to and understood this symphony there are different "tipping points." Points during the piece where one's emotions rise to the surface like a pot of boiling pasta ready to overflow, an emotional release that can't be stopped. For me it's around the 6-minute mark during the second movement. This movement consists of a series of building ascending tones that reach a wail of sorrow (to me) at this point. Even though I know it's coming, or perhaps because I know it's coming, I can't resist my own emotional release.
I find the middle of the first movement an introduction, or a warning, of what's to come.
Oddly, I really like the Symphony of Sorrowful songs, but only play it when I feel a need for catharsis. I don't listen to it for joy but feel some joy at the end. I guess it's like a rite. I'm going to play it tonight, strap on the Bose QC-15's step off the cliff. I know where I'm going; I've been there before. I owe it to Henryk and the people he wrote about.
Here's a sample. The second movement. Watch out for the 6-minute mark.
First Movement
My son, my chosen and beloved
Share your wounds with your mother
And because, dear son, I have always carried you in my heart,
And always served you faithfully
Speak to your mother, to make her happy,
Although you are already leaving me, my cherished hope.
(Lamentation of the Holy Cross Monastery from the "Lysagóra Songs" collection. Second half of the 15th century)
Second Movement
No, Mother, do not weep,
Most chaste Queen of Heaven
Support me always.
"Zdrowas Mario." (*)
(Prayer inscribed on wall 3 of cell no. 3 in the basement of "Palace," the Gestapo's headquarters in Zadopane; beneath is the signature of Helena Wanda Blazusiakówna, and the words "18 years old, imprisoned since 26 September 1944.")
(*) "Zdrowas Mario" (Ave Maria)—the opening of the Polish prayer to the Holy Mother
Third Movement
Where has he gone
My dearest son?
Perhaps during the uprising
The cruel enemy killed him
Ah, you bad people
In the name of God, the most Holy,
Tell me, why did you kill
My son?
Never again
Will I have his support
Even if I cry
My old eyes out
Were my bitter tears
to create another River Oder
They would not restore to life
My son
He lies in his grave
and I know not where
Though I keep asking people
Everywhere
Perhaps the poor child
Lies in a rough ditch
and instead he could have been
lying in his warm bed
Oh, sing for him
God's little song-birds
Since his mother
Cannot find him
And you, God's little flowers
May you blossom all around
So that my son
May sleep happily
(Folk song in the dialect of the Opole region)
Postscript - I'm sitting here and the second movement has started. I'm in the grip already. Ah, the purge has begun.
I remember hearing a report on NPR while driving to work about this piece and they played a bit of it. It might have been the second movement; I don't remember and I haven't been able to find the original audio report. However, this much I do know. For the first time ever I pulled over, stopped the car and listened to the rest of the report. I fished around for a scrap of paper to write down then name of this composer and I only got part of it right: Goriki. Polish. Symphony.
I put the scrap of paper in my wallet and carried it around for a year, stopping in every music store I visited looking for this recording. I looked locally and when I travelled I checked out music stores but to no avail. This is before Google and Amazon, remember! (How did we survive?)
Anyway, over a year later I was in Phoenix and while browsing a large music store there I found it. Under the letter G in the classical section. Symphony No. 3. I bought it.
Although the first few times I played the piece I really enjoyed it, my epiphany didn't come until one fateful evening, home alone, I decided to follow along with the program notes and read the lyrics in English because the symphony was sung in Polish.
My life was changed. Forever.
Once I read the lyrics and understood the Sorrowful Songs I understood. I felt the pain, the anguish, the despair, the hopelessness and the hope, the healing and the optimism. All at once. Unfortunately, or maybe it's a gift, I can no longer just enjoy the music for music's sake. I know what it means and it affects me profoundly.
The songs are about loss, fear, anxiety, all the horrors of war and love. Ultimately love. Love for lost ones. Love for hope. Love for loved ones.
"And you, God's little flowers
May you blossom all around
So that my son
May sleep happily."
In talking with people who have listened to and understood this symphony there are different "tipping points." Points during the piece where one's emotions rise to the surface like a pot of boiling pasta ready to overflow, an emotional release that can't be stopped. For me it's around the 6-minute mark during the second movement. This movement consists of a series of building ascending tones that reach a wail of sorrow (to me) at this point. Even though I know it's coming, or perhaps because I know it's coming, I can't resist my own emotional release.
I find the middle of the first movement an introduction, or a warning, of what's to come.
Oddly, I really like the Symphony of Sorrowful songs, but only play it when I feel a need for catharsis. I don't listen to it for joy but feel some joy at the end. I guess it's like a rite. I'm going to play it tonight, strap on the Bose QC-15's step off the cliff. I know where I'm going; I've been there before. I owe it to Henryk and the people he wrote about.
Here's a sample. The second movement. Watch out for the 6-minute mark.
First Movement
My son, my chosen and beloved
Share your wounds with your mother
And because, dear son, I have always carried you in my heart,
And always served you faithfully
Speak to your mother, to make her happy,
Although you are already leaving me, my cherished hope.
(Lamentation of the Holy Cross Monastery from the "Lysagóra Songs" collection. Second half of the 15th century)
Second Movement
No, Mother, do not weep,
Most chaste Queen of Heaven
Support me always.
"Zdrowas Mario." (*)
(Prayer inscribed on wall 3 of cell no. 3 in the basement of "Palace," the Gestapo's headquarters in Zadopane; beneath is the signature of Helena Wanda Blazusiakówna, and the words "18 years old, imprisoned since 26 September 1944.")
(*) "Zdrowas Mario" (Ave Maria)—the opening of the Polish prayer to the Holy Mother
Third Movement
Where has he gone
My dearest son?
Perhaps during the uprising
The cruel enemy killed him
Ah, you bad people
In the name of God, the most Holy,
Tell me, why did you kill
My son?
Never again
Will I have his support
Even if I cry
My old eyes out
Were my bitter tears
to create another River Oder
They would not restore to life
My son
He lies in his grave
and I know not where
Though I keep asking people
Everywhere
Perhaps the poor child
Lies in a rough ditch
and instead he could have been
lying in his warm bed
Oh, sing for him
God's little song-birds
Since his mother
Cannot find him
And you, God's little flowers
May you blossom all around
So that my son
May sleep happily
(Folk song in the dialect of the Opole region)
Postscript - I'm sitting here and the second movement has started. I'm in the grip already. Ah, the purge has begun.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Four Seasons Rating
Dear Four Seasons Fancy-Dancy Hotel in Austin,
Thank you for a lovely stay in your nicely groomed, well kept hotel this weekend. You get 10 Points for the attentive, quick and polite valet parking attendants who took care of our car swiftly and efficiently. You get another 10 Points for a painless check-in. Also, we award you 5 Points for a nice view of downtown Austin, including the Hampton Inn Downtown right across the street. More about that later.
Furthermore, you get 15 Points for the invisible housekeeping service which swept away litter, turned down our bed and provided fresh towels every hour whether we needed them or not, and 5 Points for the thousand thread, imported cotton, personalized bathrobe that encouraged me to take two more showers than I planned. I was going to award only 2 Points for the cantaloupe shampoo but will up that to a full 5 points just for the entertainment value of hearing people exclaim as I passed, "Wow, do you smell cantaloupe?"
Ten points for being on the rickshaw route to the Drunken Mile, aka Sixth Street, although we decided to walk. Still, it was nice to know that we could take our lives in our hands on the way back if we so chose.
All in all, a very impressive score. Nearly a perfect score. Nearly.
HOWEVER, I am compelled, compelled I say, to penalize you for the High Crime of charging me Eleven Bucks ($11) for High-ish Speed (?) Internet access a grand total of Eleventy Million Billion Gazillion Points, which puts you sort of in last place on Planet Earth. How can you charge the prices you do, supply your customers the high quality products you do, pamper and serve them with great professionalism and care, then INSULT them here in the 21st Century by charging them for Internet access? Why not charge for water? I'm sure yours is the best! Why not charge them for electricity? I'm sure your electrons are Class A! Why not charge them a quarter for using the elevator?
I. Just. Don't. Get. It.
Finally, I award the Hampton Inn Downtown Austin Eleventy Million Billion Gazillion Points even though we didn't stay there. (But next time will.)
So, there.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Tasso Phase I
Nola Cuisine Tasso Recipe
I've had an interest in making Tasso ever since I read about it on the most excellent food blog, Nola Cuisine. However, I didn't have a smoker so all my Tasso dreams went up in smoke (which I didn't have.)
That's all changed with the arrival of my most recent obsession, the Cookshack Smoker. I've been looking for things to smoke! (er, don't quote me on that, kthx.)
I've already done fish, ribs and a chicken, just for practice, you see, and now I'm ready to get serious. To be totally honest I don't even know what Tasso is, but if Danno says it's good then that's enough Kool-Aid for me Fortunately, Chef Google knows all about Tasso and would tell you that it's lean strips of pork, highly seasoned, smoked and it's used in small quantities to flavor beans (think red beans and rice), soups, gumbos and anything else that would benefit from spicy porky goodness, like a bowl of Cheerios. That's enough for me, fire up the smoker!
Not so fast. Making tasso is del-i-cate or you'll ruin the spell, as the Wicked Witch of the West said. It takes three days to let the rub sink in, then a few hours of air drying and about 4 hours of smoking.
"Tastes like chicken" is something I'm not looking forward to hearing after all this! Not likely, either, considering my ninja Ham Ribs-fu. It's gonna be ham-licious.
Full report in a few days.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
OMG, Roy's!!!!
OMG! WTF! WK! IANAL!!
Roy's Hawaiian Fusion restaurant in Austin has CLOSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I need more exclamation points!!!!!!!!!
Oh, this is a tragedy! Where will I get lobster sauce pot stickers? Where will I get volcano chocolate soufflé? Where will I get such S A T I F A C T I O N ? ? ?
I am so sad. What has the world come to?
Blech.
Roy's Hawaiian Fusion restaurant in Austin has CLOSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I need more exclamation points!!!!!!!!!
Oh, this is a tragedy! Where will I get lobster sauce pot stickers? Where will I get volcano chocolate soufflé? Where will I get such S A T I F A C T I O N ? ? ?
I am so sad. What has the world come to?
Blech.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Smart Technology
You know when you drop your Blackberry in the pool it doesn't work any more? The Blackberry, that is, not the pool.
Wouldn't it be cool if the phone could figure out it was being drowned and turn into a fish until you pull it out?
I'd totally buy a FishPhon.
Seriously.
Wouldn't it be cool if the phone could figure out it was being drowned and turn into a fish until you pull it out?
I'd totally buy a FishPhon.
Seriously.
Tuesday, November 09, 2010
Carl Sagan 1934-1996
From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of particular interest. But for us, it's different. Look again at that dot. That's here, that's home, that's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.
The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.
Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.
It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.
- The Pale Blue Dot by Carl Sagan
Pizza Strike
This week I was home alone and my schedule got me home late and I was just too shattered to think about cooking a meal even a boiled egg.
What to do, what to do?
Then I remembered all those "spam" emails I had been receiving and decided to call in a pizza strike from Papa Johns. It was too simple. I logged on to the website, selected my pizza preferences, paid for it right there on-line and the thing was delivered about 30 minutes later!
You can get food from the Internet! Al Gore never told me that. Nothing short of magic.
Am I the last to know about this?
Yum, anchovies!
What to do, what to do?
Then I remembered all those "spam" emails I had been receiving and decided to call in a pizza strike from Papa Johns. It was too simple. I logged on to the website, selected my pizza preferences, paid for it right there on-line and the thing was delivered about 30 minutes later!
You can get food from the Internet! Al Gore never told me that. Nothing short of magic.
Am I the last to know about this?
Yum, anchovies!
Monday, November 08, 2010
Uneasy Truce
Kink the cat at 12 pounds.
Tripp the dog at 80 pounds.
It's an uneasy truce, big dog versus sharp cat.
So far the match has been Sharp Cat 1, Big Dog 0.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Ham Ribs Part 2
"Ham ribs is a term we never want to hear again."
Yes, Dear.
I dunno, I like salt. I thought EVERYBODY liked salt! Hey, pass the salt. I've heard that forever and even said it myself a few million times. Salt of the Earth. Old salt. Salty language, even. It's everywhere, why not in pork ribs?
"What am I ever to do with these ham ribs?"
I had a suggestion, but thought better of it. For once.
"Shove them in the ... fridge ... for now and I'll figure something out."
It turns out the solution was right under our noses. A wonderful breakfast treat, ham hash with jalapenos topped with a sunny side up egg. With toast.
Here's the blueprint:
It was so good I'm thinking about making ham ribs again.\
What's that, dear, over whose dead body?
Yes, Dear.
I dunno, I like salt. I thought EVERYBODY liked salt! Hey, pass the salt. I've heard that forever and even said it myself a few million times. Salt of the Earth. Old salt. Salty language, even. It's everywhere, why not in pork ribs?
"What am I ever to do with these ham ribs?"
I had a suggestion, but thought better of it. For once.
"Shove them in the ... fridge ... for now and I'll figure something out."
It turns out the solution was right under our noses. A wonderful breakfast treat, ham hash with jalapenos topped with a sunny side up egg. With toast.
Here's the blueprint:
2-3 ham ribs, deboned
1 potato
1 onion
1 jalapeno
Chop it all up and sauté it in butter or oil until the potatoes are cooked. Add pepper to taste, but NO SALT! Cook up an egg and serve the hash with the egg on top. Fork it all down as fast as you can.
It was so good I'm thinking about making ham ribs again.\
What's that, dear, over whose dead body?
Saturday, November 06, 2010
Ham Ribs
"Why do you experiment with our food? Even Dr. Frankenstein didn't do that!"
I hear this a lot around my house. I've been working to find the Perfect Rib Smoking recipe, but today was not my day. A dog visiting us thought they were great! Lucky dog.
The change in the Rib Routine was to do a pre-soak in a brine solution made from 1 cup of Morton's Tender Quick and 4 cups of water. This was successful with salmon and I found a few recipes on-line. What could go wrong?
Well, the brine soak "cured" the meat somewhat, but I was quite surprised to see how much "somewhat" that was when I cut into the finished product.
"Wow, that's really pink."
"Looks like ham."
"Tastes like ham!"
"Salty like ham. Pass the water or a few gallons."
Later that evening ...
"Whatcha looking up."
"Ham recipes. I figure if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."
Friday, November 05, 2010
Penny for the Guy!
Happy Guy Fawkes Day!
Except for Guy, of course, who would rather forget about the whole thing.
Except for Guy, of course, who would rather forget about the whole thing.
Thursday, November 04, 2010
Rushin' Chili
Not Soviet style, just done in a hurry.
I threw some stuff together to make a chili for a blustery, cool-ish day here in Houston and it was Out-Stand-Ing! The chili, not the day.
Here's the blueprint:
I fried up the chopped onions, then added the beef chopped into half-inch cubes, added the chopped jalapenos and tomatillos, tossed in some water, the chopped tomatoes and stirred it all up. Then I added the spices, adjusted the water and put it under pressure for 30 minutes or so.
Then I reduced the pressure, added the tomato paste, tasted it (OK!) and put it under pressure for another 30 minutes. Finally, I just let it sit for 20 minutes while I got other things organized.
Result: El Perfecto!
My rule of thumb is that all a chili needs is 2 hours of cooking. The rest is fate.
The Fates graced me tonight.
I threw some stuff together to make a chili for a blustery, cool-ish day here in Houston and it was Out-Stand-Ing! The chili, not the day.
Here's the blueprint:
2 lbs beef
2 onions, chopped
3 jalapenos
5 tomatillos
1 box chopped tomatoes
1 small can tomato paste
garlic powder
ancho chili powder
salt
dried chopped onions
cumin powder
I fried up the chopped onions, then added the beef chopped into half-inch cubes, added the chopped jalapenos and tomatillos, tossed in some water, the chopped tomatoes and stirred it all up. Then I added the spices, adjusted the water and put it under pressure for 30 minutes or so.
Then I reduced the pressure, added the tomato paste, tasted it (OK!) and put it under pressure for another 30 minutes. Finally, I just let it sit for 20 minutes while I got other things organized.
Result: El Perfecto!
My rule of thumb is that all a chili needs is 2 hours of cooking. The rest is fate.
The Fates graced me tonight.
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Attack of the Catalogs!
They're coming! Clogging your mailbox. Daily catalogs from LL Bean, Land's End, Williams Sonoma and Think Geek! Each day brings more catalogs, thicker catalogs, promoting stuff you can't live without. Fur-lined coffee makers, oak slippers, toothbrushes for your cat, John Boehner orange peelers.
What I need is a mailbox catalog so I can order a bigger one. I'll have to look into that.
What I need is a mailbox catalog so I can order a bigger one. I'll have to look into that.
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
HallowThanksMas
The Christmas decorations are up at the local Mall. They've been up for a week. I had to fight my way through Christmas decorations at my grocery store just to get to the Halloween candy.
Let's see, should I hand out Butterfingers this year or candy canes? I had a choice.
Poor old Thanksgiving! Not even a shelf to itself. Nope, just a little stand at the end of an aisle with cans of pumpkin pie filling, Karo Syrup and cranberry sauce. Thanksgiving which is the dinner dry run for Christmas has been caught in the squeeze.
Pitiful.
I think we ought to simply give up on the holiday competition and combine the whole mess into one Mas. I'd call it HallowThanksMas, a national holiday season lasting from October 30th until January 8th. Why Jan 8? Well, that's a common last day for returning gifts to retail merchants.
It's all a blur anyway, why not make it official.
Yep, if I ruled the World ...
Let's see, should I hand out Butterfingers this year or candy canes? I had a choice.
Poor old Thanksgiving! Not even a shelf to itself. Nope, just a little stand at the end of an aisle with cans of pumpkin pie filling, Karo Syrup and cranberry sauce. Thanksgiving which is the dinner dry run for Christmas has been caught in the squeeze.
Pitiful.
I think we ought to simply give up on the holiday competition and combine the whole mess into one Mas. I'd call it HallowThanksMas, a national holiday season lasting from October 30th until January 8th. Why Jan 8? Well, that's a common last day for returning gifts to retail merchants.
It's all a blur anyway, why not make it official.
Yep, if I ruled the World ...
Monday, November 01, 2010
Happy Birthday, Kink!
Kink the Cat turned four years old last month. He finally grew into his ears ...
... and out of the basket!
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