I Was The Only Person There Without A Nametag
The Star Wars exhibit was half completely awesome and half, to paraphrase Douglas Coupland, very Krusty the clown. From the geek perspective it went to 11. Personal highlights included R2D2, C3PO, Darth Vader costume, lightsabers and of course, Luke's landspeeder which had a giant sign that said "do not touch" and I desperately wanted to touch it but didn't want to set a bad example in front of the children. The many, many, many children. More on that in a second.
I also liked the wampa and wished I had my wampa with me so I could show it what it would look like when it grew up.
One thing I thought was hilarious was the little video features they had which in a completely straight-faced Discovery channel manner discussed topics such as what drives the economy of Tattooine, how living things can survive the rugged ecosystem of Hoth or the culture and customs on Kashyyyk and the communication limitations of the Wookie.
I also thought they did a pretty good job of creating an actual exhibit from what is essentially a bunch of props. They had interactive stuff for the kids to do: make robots and play with some sort of magnetic thing like pod racing and ride on a hover chair thing. They also padded it out with some actual real life science, for example a section on prostheses. (Remember both Anakin and Luke lost a limb(s). A lightsaber is not a toy.) Also some stuff on transportation and the maglev train, living in harsh weather conditions and current technology and deep space travel. (They say: not happening anytime soon.)
I was there on a weekday morning shortly after opening so I had zero lines but I got a feel for what a ginormous money making machine this must be ($15 adult, $13 child/elder). There was a tent out front with switchbacks for entrance into the museum. More switchbacks inside. You buy a ticket for a certain time and then wait to be let in. I can't imagine what it would be like on a crowded day.
I know the exhibit is aimed at kids. I knew kids would be there. I underestimated how many there would be and that they would be at the age too big to be cute and too young to have their shit together when they're out in public. I'm exaggerating a little for story-telling purposes but they were pretty hopped up and bouncing off each other, roving around the exhibit in loud packs and generally oblivious to anyone else that might be trying to look at/listen to something. More than once I'd be standing there watching a video when a kid would come up and hit all the buttons, stopping and restarting the presentation and then wander off again.
Maybe I should clarify that I entered the exhibit shortly after several classes totaling about 100 kids arrived. When I bought my ticket the cashier warned me so I killed some time in a nearby exhibit that happened to be about aging. That got old quick. (ha ha)
Two good moments. During my first attempt (it took 3 tries) to examine the lightsabers a kid, hunched over the display so no one else could see, said "This is stupid. They don't even have Yoda's." Later I was looking at some sort of model for Luke's fake hand that we see at the end of episode V and two girls walked up and said, "Ew! That is disgusting."
On the way out I cruised the gift shop (part 2 of the money making machine) but resisted the urge. I barely have a place for all the Star Wars stuff I already have.
Final review: totally worth it.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Save the Cheerleader, Save the World
I need to be very focused this morning since I'm going to sneak out of here in an hour and check out the OMSI Star Wars exhibit.
Item 1 - There's rumor that some freezing rain is on its way. Fantastic. I don't mind freezing. I don't mind rain. But the two together is an ugly clusterfuk from hell. Earlier in the week I packed up a redrope with work I could do at home and I've been carrying it back and forth so if I can't come in, I can do stuff from home. At the same time, I put my sweats and an extra book and glasses in the car so if I get stuck downtown and have to stay on someone's couch at least I have something comfortable to wear and something to keep me busy. Twice the redrope has fallen off the front seat and turned out all the papers onto the floor. Also once at home. Maybe it's trying to tell me something.
Item 2 – Earlier this week I wrote about being both-handed. Last night I was awake between 2 and 4am (not on purpose) and thinking about my Illustrator final project which is an ad for tea. We were given a bunch of photos to use as possible models and I took the tea cup and the tea pot and reversed them in Photoshop so that the handle was on the left. It seemed like it would be easier to draw that way.
Item 3 – Today the NYT food section has an article about fancy cocktails and one of the people mentioned in the article is a "bar consultant." That's his job. I didn't even know that was a choice.
Item 4 – Am I the last person to figure this out? Or the only person to even care? The cheerleader's dad in Heroes was Steven Carrington. Steven Carrington!
I need to be very focused this morning since I'm going to sneak out of here in an hour and check out the OMSI Star Wars exhibit.
Item 1 - There's rumor that some freezing rain is on its way. Fantastic. I don't mind freezing. I don't mind rain. But the two together is an ugly clusterfuk from hell. Earlier in the week I packed up a redrope with work I could do at home and I've been carrying it back and forth so if I can't come in, I can do stuff from home. At the same time, I put my sweats and an extra book and glasses in the car so if I get stuck downtown and have to stay on someone's couch at least I have something comfortable to wear and something to keep me busy. Twice the redrope has fallen off the front seat and turned out all the papers onto the floor. Also once at home. Maybe it's trying to tell me something.
Item 2 – Earlier this week I wrote about being both-handed. Last night I was awake between 2 and 4am (not on purpose) and thinking about my Illustrator final project which is an ad for tea. We were given a bunch of photos to use as possible models and I took the tea cup and the tea pot and reversed them in Photoshop so that the handle was on the left. It seemed like it would be easier to draw that way.
Item 3 – Today the NYT food section has an article about fancy cocktails and one of the people mentioned in the article is a "bar consultant." That's his job. I didn't even know that was a choice.
Item 4 – Am I the last person to figure this out? Or the only person to even care? The cheerleader's dad in Heroes was Steven Carrington. Steven Carrington!
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
How Euphemism Ruined Discussion of the Tossed Salad
I didn't eat very much yesterday so I'm starving this morning.
I just read FoodDay and thought every recipe needed to be clipped and tried as soon as possible. Sort of like going to the grocery store hungry.
The feature article highlights three people who donate time cooking for fundraisers. There's a gumbo lady, a cabbage roll guy and a loukoumades (honey dipped donut hole) lady. I don't like frying and neither does my digestive system so the donuts are out, but the other recipes are a must try. I don't like beef or pork very much either so my cabbage rolls will have ground turkey. I bet if that guy knew I was even considering this substitution he'd come to my house and confiscate my cabbage.
As I was reading the article I was thinking of how great it would be to learn to make different kinds of foods standing elbow to elbow with people who've been making them for years after learning from their parents. Then I thought about how many of such opportunities I've squandered because I was too busy visiting in the other room.
There's another article on salad dressings. This is another type of recipe that I always clip and hardly ever use. I'm not fond of creamy dressings. I hate bottled dressings for any reason except convenience. I have a standard vinaigrette that I make with slight variations.
I've developed a genius salad making technique over the past year. We get huge bags of fresh greens from a local farmer so we have salad almost every day. I make a two serving salad in a shallow bowl and use designer salt and a couple twirls of designer pepper. I throw on a variety of other chopped vegetables and depending on my ambition level, add crumbled cheese, toasted nuts, maybe some dried fruit and possibly some other random leftover that might fit in. Then I drizzle on the dressing and toss until the leaves are coated. Then it goes into serving bowls and onto the table.
Have you ever run into these annoying people who spent a semester in France and can't stop telling you how brilliant France is because they eat the salad after the entree? Oh, so great, just because it's France. What if the U.S. served the salad last and France served it first. Would that be the better way? What if Tunisia served the salad last? Would anyone talk about how awesome Tunisia is? I like the salad with the meal.
What I think is wrong is when you're served a salad heaped in a dinky bowl with a little side serving of separated vinaigrette that you're supposed to add. No wonder people don't eat more vegetables.
I didn't eat very much yesterday so I'm starving this morning.
I just read FoodDay and thought every recipe needed to be clipped and tried as soon as possible. Sort of like going to the grocery store hungry.
The feature article highlights three people who donate time cooking for fundraisers. There's a gumbo lady, a cabbage roll guy and a loukoumades (honey dipped donut hole) lady. I don't like frying and neither does my digestive system so the donuts are out, but the other recipes are a must try. I don't like beef or pork very much either so my cabbage rolls will have ground turkey. I bet if that guy knew I was even considering this substitution he'd come to my house and confiscate my cabbage.
As I was reading the article I was thinking of how great it would be to learn to make different kinds of foods standing elbow to elbow with people who've been making them for years after learning from their parents. Then I thought about how many of such opportunities I've squandered because I was too busy visiting in the other room.
There's another article on salad dressings. This is another type of recipe that I always clip and hardly ever use. I'm not fond of creamy dressings. I hate bottled dressings for any reason except convenience. I have a standard vinaigrette that I make with slight variations.
I've developed a genius salad making technique over the past year. We get huge bags of fresh greens from a local farmer so we have salad almost every day. I make a two serving salad in a shallow bowl and use designer salt and a couple twirls of designer pepper. I throw on a variety of other chopped vegetables and depending on my ambition level, add crumbled cheese, toasted nuts, maybe some dried fruit and possibly some other random leftover that might fit in. Then I drizzle on the dressing and toss until the leaves are coated. Then it goes into serving bowls and onto the table.
Have you ever run into these annoying people who spent a semester in France and can't stop telling you how brilliant France is because they eat the salad after the entree? Oh, so great, just because it's France. What if the U.S. served the salad last and France served it first. Would that be the better way? What if Tunisia served the salad last? Would anyone talk about how awesome Tunisia is? I like the salad with the meal.
What I think is wrong is when you're served a salad heaped in a dinky bowl with a little side serving of separated vinaigrette that you're supposed to add. No wonder people don't eat more vegetables.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Pam CrossedHands
Before I start, I'd like to mention that the November 1942 rainfall record has been broken. We're at 11.61. And the month's not even over. And more precipitation on its way. And maybe even snow. If you love endless buckets of rain, this is the best November ever.
A couple weeks ago when I was at Ki's yoga workshop, she said something about being a right hander trapped in the body of a left hander and something about school and nuns not letting you write with your left hand.
I started thinking about it and I'm both-handed. Wikipedia has a whole article on cross-dominance.
I write, eat and do domestic things with my left hand. Domestic meaning ironing, sewing, scissoring, wielding cooking utensils, hair and tooth brushing and holding garden nippers.
When I started guitar I had it strung left handed but my teacher put a stop to that and encouraged me to learn right handed. Could this have contributed to how bad I was at it? Even now if I play air guitar or air violin, I do it left handed.
But sports, which I am also bad at, I do right handed. I throw with my right hand, catch with my right hand (problematic), bat right handed, and hold any kind of racket or paddle in my right hand. In gymnastics I did right handed routines and in yoga my right side is usually a teeny bit stronger. But if I was going to shoot a gun (sports or domestic?), I'd do it with my left hand.
What's really mixed up is that I mouse right handed. When I do Photoshop or Illustrator I do drawing, lassoing or whatever with my right hand. This weekend I got the electronic tablet out thinking it would be easier for me to use my left hand. Wrong. The drawing part was easier but navigating and clicking was awkward. I found myself with the pen in my left hand and the mouse in my right hand trying to coordinate.
I wonder what the lesson is here.
Before I start, I'd like to mention that the November 1942 rainfall record has been broken. We're at 11.61. And the month's not even over. And more precipitation on its way. And maybe even snow. If you love endless buckets of rain, this is the best November ever.
A couple weeks ago when I was at Ki's yoga workshop, she said something about being a right hander trapped in the body of a left hander and something about school and nuns not letting you write with your left hand.
I started thinking about it and I'm both-handed. Wikipedia has a whole article on cross-dominance.
I write, eat and do domestic things with my left hand. Domestic meaning ironing, sewing, scissoring, wielding cooking utensils, hair and tooth brushing and holding garden nippers.
When I started guitar I had it strung left handed but my teacher put a stop to that and encouraged me to learn right handed. Could this have contributed to how bad I was at it? Even now if I play air guitar or air violin, I do it left handed.
But sports, which I am also bad at, I do right handed. I throw with my right hand, catch with my right hand (problematic), bat right handed, and hold any kind of racket or paddle in my right hand. In gymnastics I did right handed routines and in yoga my right side is usually a teeny bit stronger. But if I was going to shoot a gun (sports or domestic?), I'd do it with my left hand.
What's really mixed up is that I mouse right handed. When I do Photoshop or Illustrator I do drawing, lassoing or whatever with my right hand. This weekend I got the electronic tablet out thinking it would be easier for me to use my left hand. Wrong. The drawing part was easier but navigating and clicking was awkward. I found myself with the pen in my left hand and the mouse in my right hand trying to coordinate.
I wonder what the lesson is here.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
How To Do A Holiday Newsletter
If you've ever opened mail in December, you've probably received a multi-copied holiday letter from a friend or family member. And for every one you've liked, there are probably five that you thought were dreadful. Most years I start my holiday newsletter over Thanksgiving weekend. I read over some of the previous years and look at my calendar and make notes and look through photos and then try to whip out a quick first draft. Then the following weekend I can finish it up and get it ready for posting/printing.
After doing a newsletter for 15 years I've decided I'm qualified to pass on some tips.
What's the point of a holiday greeting? Generally to make a connection with people. Signing your name at the bottom of a card does little to further this goal. If you're a terrible writer, super busy or would prefer to spend your holiday time doing other things, consider the photo greeting. You don't have to have kids or pets to go this route. Just find a fun photo of yourself, take it to your local photo processor, order up a bunch and send. Easy.
If you want to go the multi-copied letter route, take some time to figure out what you want to say. Avoid making a list of your activities and accomplishments. If you're going to do that you might as well copy a page from your day planner or send out one of your annotated grocery lists. No one wants a list of your children or grandchildren's purchases and activities either.
Wrong: "We traded our Jaguar for a BMW, chartered a yacht for a 28 day Mediterranean cruise to celebrate Madison's perfect SAT scores and our son cleared 7 figures on the housing development he completed after years of litigation over the so-called wetlands destruction."
Avoid use of the word "continue."
Wrong: "Wilford continues his weekly shuffleboard classes while I continue to be active with the Daughters of the Confederacy and Baking league."
Instead, try to tell stories and use lots of details. Try to create a picture of something you did.
Right: "The highlight of our cruise was the twilight disco where we danced with an Elvis impersonator while the blazing sun set into a clear, blue sea."
Don't feel like you're limited to events of the past year. Tell an old family story.
Use an informal conversational voice. Writing in a monotone isn't in the holiday spirit.
Life is made up of all sorts of events and a holiday letter doesn't have to ignore tragic events. Use your own judgment on how to approach this.
Avoid a list of your health problems. People care about your fitness but don't need all the gory details of every replaced valve, removed organ or impaired function.
Avoid the temptation to write something that rhymes or is written in the voice of a pet, child or someone who died. I suppose this can be done cleverly but unless you're super confident that you're good, I wouldn't do it.
Don't (and I'm totally guilty of this, sorry) make it too long. No one wants to have to set aside an afternoon during December to read your holiday newsletter.
When it's time to put it on paper, use a simple layout with an easy to read typeface. Don't go crazy with the fonts or font colors. Include pictures. People like pictures. Or drawings. Or make a collage. I should note here that I put mine online and make paper copies that I can hand out or send to people who aren't into that Internet thing.
If you're a bad writer, consider doing a page with pictures only. Write a few explanatory captions. If you're bad with computers, use photos and tape and take it to the local copy shop. Another idea might be send a holiday recipe with a story about it. There are no rules so you should do what you want as long as it's not something that would embarrass your family. Even then, do what you want. It's your stamp.
Finally, don't worry if you send it after xmas. People love mail and no one will judge your for sending it out late.
If you have anything to add, comments are open.
If you've ever opened mail in December, you've probably received a multi-copied holiday letter from a friend or family member. And for every one you've liked, there are probably five that you thought were dreadful. Most years I start my holiday newsletter over Thanksgiving weekend. I read over some of the previous years and look at my calendar and make notes and look through photos and then try to whip out a quick first draft. Then the following weekend I can finish it up and get it ready for posting/printing.
After doing a newsletter for 15 years I've decided I'm qualified to pass on some tips.
What's the point of a holiday greeting? Generally to make a connection with people. Signing your name at the bottom of a card does little to further this goal. If you're a terrible writer, super busy or would prefer to spend your holiday time doing other things, consider the photo greeting. You don't have to have kids or pets to go this route. Just find a fun photo of yourself, take it to your local photo processor, order up a bunch and send. Easy.
If you want to go the multi-copied letter route, take some time to figure out what you want to say. Avoid making a list of your activities and accomplishments. If you're going to do that you might as well copy a page from your day planner or send out one of your annotated grocery lists. No one wants a list of your children or grandchildren's purchases and activities either.
Wrong: "We traded our Jaguar for a BMW, chartered a yacht for a 28 day Mediterranean cruise to celebrate Madison's perfect SAT scores and our son cleared 7 figures on the housing development he completed after years of litigation over the so-called wetlands destruction."
Avoid use of the word "continue."
Wrong: "Wilford continues his weekly shuffleboard classes while I continue to be active with the Daughters of the Confederacy and Baking league."
Instead, try to tell stories and use lots of details. Try to create a picture of something you did.
Right: "The highlight of our cruise was the twilight disco where we danced with an Elvis impersonator while the blazing sun set into a clear, blue sea."
Don't feel like you're limited to events of the past year. Tell an old family story.
Use an informal conversational voice. Writing in a monotone isn't in the holiday spirit.
Life is made up of all sorts of events and a holiday letter doesn't have to ignore tragic events. Use your own judgment on how to approach this.
Avoid a list of your health problems. People care about your fitness but don't need all the gory details of every replaced valve, removed organ or impaired function.
Avoid the temptation to write something that rhymes or is written in the voice of a pet, child or someone who died. I suppose this can be done cleverly but unless you're super confident that you're good, I wouldn't do it.
Don't (and I'm totally guilty of this, sorry) make it too long. No one wants to have to set aside an afternoon during December to read your holiday newsletter.
When it's time to put it on paper, use a simple layout with an easy to read typeface. Don't go crazy with the fonts or font colors. Include pictures. People like pictures. Or drawings. Or make a collage. I should note here that I put mine online and make paper copies that I can hand out or send to people who aren't into that Internet thing.
If you're a bad writer, consider doing a page with pictures only. Write a few explanatory captions. If you're bad with computers, use photos and tape and take it to the local copy shop. Another idea might be send a holiday recipe with a story about it. There are no rules so you should do what you want as long as it's not something that would embarrass your family. Even then, do what you want. It's your stamp.
Finally, don't worry if you send it after xmas. People love mail and no one will judge your for sending it out late.
If you have anything to add, comments are open.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Black Friday Video
If you haven't seen it yet, some black friday videos here.
I do not understand this. This is a country where people will pay $5 for a cup of coffee or $3.99 to download a special annoying sound for their cellphone.
Why in the name of all that's good and holy would anyone want to get up before dawn and then brawl to get a special deal on something?
If it was a constitutional requirement, I would pay double to get out of it. I can't think of anything I want that badly. If it was the last kidney on the planet and my only hope for survival, I still wouldn't do it.
Project update: I'm about 90% finished. There are a couple special requirements (how am I going to shoe horn a clipping mask into this thing?) that I can't wrap my head around tonight. But I can smell the fresh paint at the finish line.
If you haven't seen it yet, some black friday videos here.
I do not understand this. This is a country where people will pay $5 for a cup of coffee or $3.99 to download a special annoying sound for their cellphone.
Why in the name of all that's good and holy would anyone want to get up before dawn and then brawl to get a special deal on something?
If it was a constitutional requirement, I would pay double to get out of it. I can't think of anything I want that badly. If it was the last kidney on the planet and my only hope for survival, I still wouldn't do it.
Project update: I'm about 90% finished. There are a couple special requirements (how am I going to shoe horn a clipping mask into this thing?) that I can't wrap my head around tonight. But I can smell the fresh paint at the finish line.
Clear Skies
Every day the paper reports how close we are to breaking the record for rain in the month of November. As of today we're at 11.14 and we need to beat 11.57.
This is one record we don't need to beat and today we celebrated the sunshine by going for a nice long walk by Vancouver Lake. I took the special effects camera (new camera should be here next week) and got a few shots which were decent enough to share.
Meanwhile, Illustrator final project kicking my butt. Cannot linger here. I'm going to hammer away on it until bed time and whatever isn't done will have to be thrown together at the last minute. I have other things that need my attention this weekend.
Epic post not ready yet but I'll give you a hint: it has to do with holiday newsletters. If you look at that page, don't look at 2004. It's all screwed up and yet another thing I haven't had time to fix this weekend. My desktop is littered with photos and text clippings (and Illustrator items). I just can't get it all done. Note to self: if you ever take a class again, don't do it Fall quarter. Finishing a class during the holidays is caca.
Update: I fixed 2004. You can look at it now. It could use additional tweaking but this is going to have to do.
(Aside: I was at the bar last week signing my bill and the bartender gave me a bad pen. I used one from my purse. When I handed him back his pen, I said, "This is caca." He said, "Does that mean it doesn't work?")
Friday, November 24, 2006
Insert Sparkling Clam Joke Here
I have an epic post for this weekend but I didn't get to it yet. I spent all day working on my final project for Illustrator. I'm slow and not especially artistic and having a hard time.
Meanwhile, the non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner went fantastic.
I ran into trouble with the pasta maker because the person who designed it had a limited idea of how thick a kitchen counter might be, as if we had kitchen counters/tables/whatever made out of a sheet of plywood. I couldn't clamp it down. For the first rounds of flattening it didn't matter but as I got to the last couple of levels I needed more muscle and I couldn't hold the pasta maker down, crank the handle and manage the pasta at the same time so it got all gummed up which lead to me opening the dinner wine a couple hours early. I ended up finishing it with a rolling pin which required a lot of brute strength, it's not like rolling cookie dough. The strands were all different shapes and some with rough edges but turned out fine when it was cooked. It was excellent pasta but I'm not sure worth that much extra work.
Now that I've done it once I think I can make it easier next time. I'm going to try at least once more before I give up on homemade pasta.
The linguine turned out excellent. I sauteed Prosciutto with leeks and garlic and then added some cheapo white wine and chucked my very thoroughly scrubbed clams in there. I had clam paranoia so they were sparkling by the time I got through with them. The recipe called for cherry tomatoes which are out of season and I don't like to cook with them anyway. I used a half a jar of sun-dried which was a good call. The cooked noodles get added last and after letting it all mingle together for a few minutes, it gets heaped on warmed plates and sprinkled with parsley and toasted pine nuts. Excellent.
The bread didn't rise into a pretty dome but tasted great and the roasted potato and spinach salad had a nice zing from the dressing, a fairly generic vinaigrette with tons of shallots. I ate leftover salad for lunch today.
The brulee turned out creamy delicious but the torch was a little scary. It doesn't come with many pictures but tons of directions with millions of danger disclaimers so I was afraid I'd blow up myself and/or the house. Filling it with the butane is also scary and I had some dripping down my arm which I then washed for 20 minutes so as not to accidentally ignite it.
The directions weren't clear on how much sugar to put on so I used a lot and the torch is like a extra-hot hair dryer and blew the sugar around which I didn't expect. Also the sugar didn't slowly burble, it melted and pooled into a brown mass. At that point I figured it was done. It tasted fantastic.
Priscila brought crab and shrimp and crudités so we did end up with way too much food. But we've got all weekend to eat it.
I have an epic post for this weekend but I didn't get to it yet. I spent all day working on my final project for Illustrator. I'm slow and not especially artistic and having a hard time.
Meanwhile, the non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner went fantastic.
I ran into trouble with the pasta maker because the person who designed it had a limited idea of how thick a kitchen counter might be, as if we had kitchen counters/tables/whatever made out of a sheet of plywood. I couldn't clamp it down. For the first rounds of flattening it didn't matter but as I got to the last couple of levels I needed more muscle and I couldn't hold the pasta maker down, crank the handle and manage the pasta at the same time so it got all gummed up which lead to me opening the dinner wine a couple hours early. I ended up finishing it with a rolling pin which required a lot of brute strength, it's not like rolling cookie dough. The strands were all different shapes and some with rough edges but turned out fine when it was cooked. It was excellent pasta but I'm not sure worth that much extra work.
Now that I've done it once I think I can make it easier next time. I'm going to try at least once more before I give up on homemade pasta.
The linguine turned out excellent. I sauteed Prosciutto with leeks and garlic and then added some cheapo white wine and chucked my very thoroughly scrubbed clams in there. I had clam paranoia so they were sparkling by the time I got through with them. The recipe called for cherry tomatoes which are out of season and I don't like to cook with them anyway. I used a half a jar of sun-dried which was a good call. The cooked noodles get added last and after letting it all mingle together for a few minutes, it gets heaped on warmed plates and sprinkled with parsley and toasted pine nuts. Excellent.
The bread didn't rise into a pretty dome but tasted great and the roasted potato and spinach salad had a nice zing from the dressing, a fairly generic vinaigrette with tons of shallots. I ate leftover salad for lunch today.
The brulee turned out creamy delicious but the torch was a little scary. It doesn't come with many pictures but tons of directions with millions of danger disclaimers so I was afraid I'd blow up myself and/or the house. Filling it with the butane is also scary and I had some dripping down my arm which I then washed for 20 minutes so as not to accidentally ignite it.
The directions weren't clear on how much sugar to put on so I used a lot and the torch is like a extra-hot hair dryer and blew the sugar around which I didn't expect. Also the sugar didn't slowly burble, it melted and pooled into a brown mass. At that point I figured it was done. It tasted fantastic.
Priscila brought crab and shrimp and crudités so we did end up with way too much food. But we've got all weekend to eat it.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
For Those About to Feast
I have about a half hour before I need to hit the kitchen in order to have dinner ready by 5pm. I made the Crème Brûlèe yesterday. I bought the culinary torch which I can't wait to use and 6 ramekins. Note to Kitchen Kaboodle: could you just pony up the extra 3½¢ per item it would cost to get stickers that peel off easily rather than the crapshit you use so I have to spend a half hour scraping and goo-goning to get my new ramekins clean?
My mother-in-law was kind enough to clip an article for me from one of her magazines that tells a common version of the first thanksgiving story including happy pilgrims and Indians whooping it up with lots of sharing, caring, giving and general good cheer.
In return, I've clipped for her a few articles that tell a less common version of the story which is a little darker and shows a side of the pilgrims that is not so generous.
From Deconstructing the Myths of The First Thanksgiving
Myth: The First Thanksgiving occurred in 1621.
Fact: No one knows when the “first” thanksgiving occurred. People have been giving thanks for as long as people have existed. Indigenous nations all over the world have celebrations of the harvest that come from very old traditions; for Native peoples, thanksgiving comes not once a year, but every day, for all the gifts of life. To refer to the harvest feast of 1621 as The First Thanksgiving disappears Indian peoples in the eyes of non-Native children.
Quoted from: The Hidden History of Massachusetts
According to a single-paragraph account in the writings of one Pilgrim, a harvest feast did take place in Plymouth in 1621, probably in mid-October, but the Indians who attended were not even invited. Though it later became known as "Thanksgiving," the Pilgrims never called it that. And amidst the imagery of a picnic of interracial harmony is some of the most terrifying bloodshed in New World history.
From The Thanksgiving Myth
Jump 129 years to 1621, year of the supposed "first Thanksgiving." There is not much documentation of that event, but surviving Indians do not trust the myth. Natives were already dying like flies thanks to European-borne diseases. The Pequot tribe reportedly numbered 8,000 when the Pilgrims arrived, but disease had reduced their population to 1,500 by 1637, when the first, officially proclaimed, all-Pilgrim "Thanksgiving" took place. At that feast, the whites of New England celebrated their massacre of the Pequots. "This day forth shall be a day of celebration and thanksgiving for subduing the Pequots," read Massachusetts Bay Governor John Winthrop's proclamation. Few Pequots survived.
To end on a lighter note fromAddams Family Values:
[As an Indian, ad-libbing during a Thanksgiving play]
Wednesday: Wait, we can not break bread with you. You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans, and drink highballs. We will sell our bracelets by the road sides, and you will play golf, and eat hot h'ors d'ourves. My people will have pain and degradation. Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They said do not trust the pilgrims, especially Sarah Miller. And for all of these reasons I have decided to scalp you and burn your village to the ground.
I have about a half hour before I need to hit the kitchen in order to have dinner ready by 5pm. I made the Crème Brûlèe yesterday. I bought the culinary torch which I can't wait to use and 6 ramekins. Note to Kitchen Kaboodle: could you just pony up the extra 3½¢ per item it would cost to get stickers that peel off easily rather than the crapshit you use so I have to spend a half hour scraping and goo-goning to get my new ramekins clean?
My mother-in-law was kind enough to clip an article for me from one of her magazines that tells a common version of the first thanksgiving story including happy pilgrims and Indians whooping it up with lots of sharing, caring, giving and general good cheer.
In return, I've clipped for her a few articles that tell a less common version of the story which is a little darker and shows a side of the pilgrims that is not so generous.
From Deconstructing the Myths of The First Thanksgiving
Myth: The First Thanksgiving occurred in 1621.
Fact: No one knows when the “first” thanksgiving occurred. People have been giving thanks for as long as people have existed. Indigenous nations all over the world have celebrations of the harvest that come from very old traditions; for Native peoples, thanksgiving comes not once a year, but every day, for all the gifts of life. To refer to the harvest feast of 1621 as The First Thanksgiving disappears Indian peoples in the eyes of non-Native children.
Quoted from: The Hidden History of Massachusetts
According to a single-paragraph account in the writings of one Pilgrim, a harvest feast did take place in Plymouth in 1621, probably in mid-October, but the Indians who attended were not even invited. Though it later became known as "Thanksgiving," the Pilgrims never called it that. And amidst the imagery of a picnic of interracial harmony is some of the most terrifying bloodshed in New World history.
From The Thanksgiving Myth
Jump 129 years to 1621, year of the supposed "first Thanksgiving." There is not much documentation of that event, but surviving Indians do not trust the myth. Natives were already dying like flies thanks to European-borne diseases. The Pequot tribe reportedly numbered 8,000 when the Pilgrims arrived, but disease had reduced their population to 1,500 by 1637, when the first, officially proclaimed, all-Pilgrim "Thanksgiving" took place. At that feast, the whites of New England celebrated their massacre of the Pequots. "This day forth shall be a day of celebration and thanksgiving for subduing the Pequots," read Massachusetts Bay Governor John Winthrop's proclamation. Few Pequots survived.
To end on a lighter note fromAddams Family Values:
[As an Indian, ad-libbing during a Thanksgiving play]
Wednesday: Wait, we can not break bread with you. You have taken the land which is rightfully ours. Years from now my people will be forced to live in mobile homes on reservations. Your people will wear cardigans, and drink highballs. We will sell our bracelets by the road sides, and you will play golf, and eat hot h'ors d'ourves. My people will have pain and degradation. Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They said do not trust the pilgrims, especially Sarah Miller. And for all of these reasons I have decided to scalp you and burn your village to the ground.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
A Simple Plan
I do not do crowds if I don't have to. I don't wait in long lines. I'd skip my own funeral if it took more than 5 minutes to find a parking place.
I took today off partly to get started on my final project for my Illustrator class, partly to do some day-before cooking projects and partly to avoid the evening commute. Between the weather and the holiday traffic, it will no doubt be a long, slow haul.
Bob had to work late last night so I made plans for some dinner and drinks with a friend downtown and then I wanted to stop at the New Seasons on Interstate on my way home. All the upscale-natural type food stores near our house have moved across town or closed so as part of my holiday weekend planning strategy, I thought this stop would make my life easier. HA HA
I won't bore you with the details but I've never been there before and almost never drive to that part of town so I got completely lost and it was dark and raining and my windows all foggy so pretty much optimal driving conditions. When I finally found it there was a line to get into the parking lot.
I optimistically inched along and then joined the dozen SUVs that circled the world's smallest parking lot, in the rain, dodging customers, can't see for crap. Who builds a market with 20 parking spaces?
The earlier D&D at least kept me sedated so I exited the micro-park as soon as I possibly could, who knows how long and how violent it would get for parking and the area is not set up for street parking. Then got lost finding my way back home again. That aspect of the plan failed on all levels.
This morning I got going early and did the shopping and finally got a much needed haircut. Now I'm not in the mood for Illustrator or cooking and I'm tempted to say, aw screw it and panic about it later.
I read over my recipes and then decide.
I do not do crowds if I don't have to. I don't wait in long lines. I'd skip my own funeral if it took more than 5 minutes to find a parking place.
I took today off partly to get started on my final project for my Illustrator class, partly to do some day-before cooking projects and partly to avoid the evening commute. Between the weather and the holiday traffic, it will no doubt be a long, slow haul.
Bob had to work late last night so I made plans for some dinner and drinks with a friend downtown and then I wanted to stop at the New Seasons on Interstate on my way home. All the upscale-natural type food stores near our house have moved across town or closed so as part of my holiday weekend planning strategy, I thought this stop would make my life easier. HA HA
I won't bore you with the details but I've never been there before and almost never drive to that part of town so I got completely lost and it was dark and raining and my windows all foggy so pretty much optimal driving conditions. When I finally found it there was a line to get into the parking lot.
I optimistically inched along and then joined the dozen SUVs that circled the world's smallest parking lot, in the rain, dodging customers, can't see for crap. Who builds a market with 20 parking spaces?
The earlier D&D at least kept me sedated so I exited the micro-park as soon as I possibly could, who knows how long and how violent it would get for parking and the area is not set up for street parking. Then got lost finding my way back home again. That aspect of the plan failed on all levels.
This morning I got going early and did the shopping and finally got a much needed haircut. Now I'm not in the mood for Illustrator or cooking and I'm tempted to say, aw screw it and panic about it later.
I read over my recipes and then decide.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
The Plogical Song
We have something in our house that my husband calls plogic. It means Pam's logic. Or put another way, doing things my way. When my husband is feeling less than thrilled with the plogic he grumbles, "It's Pam's world, we just live in it."
It's not just that I'm bossy or control freaky. I am pathologically logical (are you allowed to put those two words together?) and am often frustrated/mystified/agog that the world does not share my vision of the best way of doing things.
I'm not this way about everything. For example, I have no input on things having to do with sports. But generally I think the best way to do things is the most efficient — I don't like to waste my or anyone else's time, money, or energy — so really exercising plogic is for the good of mankind.
The other day I was at the burrito cart (Fuego at 2nd and Yamhill for you locals, cheap burrito-y goodness) and an Asian woman came up and started to fill out the little sheet you use for your order. The guy always asks you wheat or flour so he can warm your tortilla while he finishes the order in front of you. When he asked her, she shook her head and said in broken English, that she didn't understand.
Before I could even think about it I jumped right in telling the guy how to make her burrito because I had a good idea how she would probably like it, not too spicy or with too much sour cream. And then I stopped myself because, omigod, I was being That Pushy Woman who bosses around random strangers.
In my defense, have you ever been in a situation where you weren't clear on the customs and ways and you kind-of wished someone else would just take charge for a minute? When I was a teenager my family went to France and it was time to eat. The waiter came over and said a bunch of stuff in French, a language we unfortunately do not speak. My Dad nodded and held up 4 fingers. The waiter knew exactly what to do. He brought us 4 drinks and 4 sandwiches which we ate with great joy. "Hey, look at us, ordering food in France."
Back in Portland, I pointed at my burrito and she ordered flour. English was not her native language, but she had a pretty good handle on it. The problem was she couldn't hear because of the traffic.
We have something in our house that my husband calls plogic. It means Pam's logic. Or put another way, doing things my way. When my husband is feeling less than thrilled with the plogic he grumbles, "It's Pam's world, we just live in it."
It's not just that I'm bossy or control freaky. I am pathologically logical (are you allowed to put those two words together?) and am often frustrated/mystified/agog that the world does not share my vision of the best way of doing things.
I'm not this way about everything. For example, I have no input on things having to do with sports. But generally I think the best way to do things is the most efficient — I don't like to waste my or anyone else's time, money, or energy — so really exercising plogic is for the good of mankind.
The other day I was at the burrito cart (Fuego at 2nd and Yamhill for you locals, cheap burrito-y goodness) and an Asian woman came up and started to fill out the little sheet you use for your order. The guy always asks you wheat or flour so he can warm your tortilla while he finishes the order in front of you. When he asked her, she shook her head and said in broken English, that she didn't understand.
Before I could even think about it I jumped right in telling the guy how to make her burrito because I had a good idea how she would probably like it, not too spicy or with too much sour cream. And then I stopped myself because, omigod, I was being That Pushy Woman who bosses around random strangers.
In my defense, have you ever been in a situation where you weren't clear on the customs and ways and you kind-of wished someone else would just take charge for a minute? When I was a teenager my family went to France and it was time to eat. The waiter came over and said a bunch of stuff in French, a language we unfortunately do not speak. My Dad nodded and held up 4 fingers. The waiter knew exactly what to do. He brought us 4 drinks and 4 sandwiches which we ate with great joy. "Hey, look at us, ordering food in France."
Back in Portland, I pointed at my burrito and she ordered flour. English was not her native language, but she had a pretty good handle on it. The problem was she couldn't hear because of the traffic.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Things to Do Before You're 40
This morning I read a post that referred to a magazine list of things to do before you're 40.
It's too late for me but I was curious to see if I could find the list to see what I missed because there is nothing like assigning importance to random events and circumstances and giving them an arbitrary deadline.
I plugged the phrase into a search engine and turns out there are books and all kinds of people talking about these lists.
If you're under 40 and have a list, I'd say get on it and go for it because once I hit 40 I was too lazy to do anything. I have to be in bed by 9pm or I'm tired for a week. A hangover lasts at least three days. A weird muscle pull can annoy me for months. If I eat too much or stuff that's too fatty or preservative laden, I spend the night in roiling pain. It takes us a week to get organized enough to do dinner and a movie.
At this point I'm enjoying making a list of things I'm never going to do and am thrilled to avoid. I'm never going to climb a mountain, sail around on a frigate like Master and Commander, wait in line all night for anything, do space travel, observe a gnarly surgical procedure, gamble away my life savings, be on reality TV, win an Olympic medal, have a threesome (possibly negotiable) or study grizzly bears in their natural habitat. Whew. So liberating.
This morning I read a post that referred to a magazine list of things to do before you're 40.
It's too late for me but I was curious to see if I could find the list to see what I missed because there is nothing like assigning importance to random events and circumstances and giving them an arbitrary deadline.
I plugged the phrase into a search engine and turns out there are books and all kinds of people talking about these lists.
If you're under 40 and have a list, I'd say get on it and go for it because once I hit 40 I was too lazy to do anything. I have to be in bed by 9pm or I'm tired for a week. A hangover lasts at least three days. A weird muscle pull can annoy me for months. If I eat too much or stuff that's too fatty or preservative laden, I spend the night in roiling pain. It takes us a week to get organized enough to do dinner and a movie.
At this point I'm enjoying making a list of things I'm never going to do and am thrilled to avoid. I'm never going to climb a mountain, sail around on a frigate like Master and Commander, wait in line all night for anything, do space travel, observe a gnarly surgical procedure, gamble away my life savings, be on reality TV, win an Olympic medal, have a threesome (possibly negotiable) or study grizzly bears in their natural habitat. Whew. So liberating.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
American Indian Heritage Month
When I enrolled at Clark College I filled out some form that asked my ethnicity and I put American Indian. Now I'm on the diversity mailing list and have gotten more mail than a person taking a single class for one quarter could possibly need.
I got a letter inviting me to try out for head dancer at the Clark College Pow Wow and when I told Bob, he said: "Cool. Are you going to do it?"
And I gave him a funny look because (a) I've never been a pow wow dancer, (b) pow wow isn't part of my tradition, and (c) I'm not even a dancer in my own tribe's tradition. Still, it was nice to be asked.
We went for Indian tacos before the pow wow and I was a little worried because there were only about 20 people and I thought, Oh no. Low turnout. My fears were unwarranted. The gym was more than half full. And those people are sad they missed out because the Indian tacos were awesome. I'll omit any discussion about the fry bread controversy since it's so yummy but if you're interested start here. Also there was a tiny riot when late in the night the frybread ran out.
I love pow wows. My first favorite part is grand entry. It starts with Indian veterans and there's always at least couple ancient elders, usually tiny, who stand so tall and so proud and are so completely confident and in charge. There is no way to watch without feeling a tug in your heart.
Last night was no exception. They followed grand entry with an hour of talking into microphones that sounded like the grownups on Charlie Brown. Everyone got to say something. Too bad most of it was unintelligible. This situation was made worse by all the dancers wearing bells on their shoes or jingle dresses and jumping around. I understood little except that this is part of a Title VII program — some sort of federal education funding and Indians.
They talked about Indian Heritage Month and read some sort of proclamation from President Bush. Possibly this. I like the part that goes, " ... we honor the generations of American Indians and Alaska Natives who have added to the character of our Nation." I sat in the bleachers and said, "added? Are you kidding me, added?" The person reading the proclamation said he was going to skip the part about money and I said, "Yeah, how about settling Cobell?" the Indian trust case that doesn't seem to have a chance of being settled. My dear husband encouraged me to relax and perhaps keep it down a bit
The MC was fantastic, as they usually are. He said, "We used to get just a day. Now, we get a whole month."
My second favorite part was the kid in the bleachers who danced during the opening songs, with a light saber.
My third favorite part was the tiny tots. Seven and under kids dancing is the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life. There was a little girl who looked like the Indian version of Little Miss Sunshine. I had my fingers crossed for a Super Freak moment.
Probably the highlight of the night was the drumline group of non-Indian sixth to eighth graders who set up their drums and joined the pow wow drum for a song. The first round didn't completely work but the second round they were on fire. But no dancers. The MC asked them to play again and asked the dancers to get out there. Some of them balked but he would have none of it. "Make something up," he said. At least half of them got out there and went for it. It was really, really cool.
The next dance was Intertribal and the MC called the drumline kids out and asked them to dance. A nice moment and when you think about it, this is what heritage month should be all about.
I know a lot of people worked hard to make last night happen so huge applause from me. Super fun time.
When I enrolled at Clark College I filled out some form that asked my ethnicity and I put American Indian. Now I'm on the diversity mailing list and have gotten more mail than a person taking a single class for one quarter could possibly need.
I got a letter inviting me to try out for head dancer at the Clark College Pow Wow and when I told Bob, he said: "Cool. Are you going to do it?"
And I gave him a funny look because (a) I've never been a pow wow dancer, (b) pow wow isn't part of my tradition, and (c) I'm not even a dancer in my own tribe's tradition. Still, it was nice to be asked.
We went for Indian tacos before the pow wow and I was a little worried because there were only about 20 people and I thought, Oh no. Low turnout. My fears were unwarranted. The gym was more than half full. And those people are sad they missed out because the Indian tacos were awesome. I'll omit any discussion about the fry bread controversy since it's so yummy but if you're interested start here. Also there was a tiny riot when late in the night the frybread ran out.
I love pow wows. My first favorite part is grand entry. It starts with Indian veterans and there's always at least couple ancient elders, usually tiny, who stand so tall and so proud and are so completely confident and in charge. There is no way to watch without feeling a tug in your heart.
Last night was no exception. They followed grand entry with an hour of talking into microphones that sounded like the grownups on Charlie Brown. Everyone got to say something. Too bad most of it was unintelligible. This situation was made worse by all the dancers wearing bells on their shoes or jingle dresses and jumping around. I understood little except that this is part of a Title VII program — some sort of federal education funding and Indians.
They talked about Indian Heritage Month and read some sort of proclamation from President Bush. Possibly this. I like the part that goes, " ... we honor the generations of American Indians and Alaska Natives who have added to the character of our Nation." I sat in the bleachers and said, "added? Are you kidding me, added?" The person reading the proclamation said he was going to skip the part about money and I said, "Yeah, how about settling Cobell?" the Indian trust case that doesn't seem to have a chance of being settled. My dear husband encouraged me to relax and perhaps keep it down a bit
The MC was fantastic, as they usually are. He said, "We used to get just a day. Now, we get a whole month."
My second favorite part was the kid in the bleachers who danced during the opening songs, with a light saber.
My third favorite part was the tiny tots. Seven and under kids dancing is the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life. There was a little girl who looked like the Indian version of Little Miss Sunshine. I had my fingers crossed for a Super Freak moment.
Probably the highlight of the night was the drumline group of non-Indian sixth to eighth graders who set up their drums and joined the pow wow drum for a song. The first round didn't completely work but the second round they were on fire. But no dancers. The MC asked them to play again and asked the dancers to get out there. Some of them balked but he would have none of it. "Make something up," he said. At least half of them got out there and went for it. It was really, really cool.
The next dance was Intertribal and the MC called the drumline kids out and asked them to dance. A nice moment and when you think about it, this is what heritage month should be all about.
I know a lot of people worked hard to make last night happen so huge applause from me. Super fun time.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Tripendicular
This morning we woke up early and drove across town to the Bean Store. I'm sure Mr. Red Mill would be thrilled to know that he went to all the trouble of building a giant red building to sell his products and we still refer to it as the Bean Store. They serve a kick ass breakfast which is a huge motivator. I bought tons of legumes and breakfast grains and a couple of bags of flour. I'm trying a new recipe for Thanksgiving. I've got the test loaf going now.
I decided that not having a camera is making me crazy so I'm going to do something I never do and pull money out of savings and not do very much homework and march into a camera store downtown on Monday and buy something. i hope I'm not sitting here in 6 months and linking to this post and talking about what an idiot I am. I keep seeing great things that should have their pictures taken. Like Bob's side order of pancakes this morning. He got three different kinds and each one came on its own different colored plate. Or the vacuum cleaner the construction crew was using at the office had giant block letters on it that said: LOUD.
Don't you think that O.K. Go song "Here it goes again" sounds like a lost song from the Valley Girl soundtrack? (That's a huge good thing, by the way)
My beeper just went off and it's time to run out to the Clark College Pow Wow. Busy day.
Archives Update: : I fricked around with it for a little while earlier today and now most of the archives are working. I guess blogger gets tired after awhile and can't seem to muster the strength to republishing my entire blob. You get what you pay for.
This morning we woke up early and drove across town to the Bean Store. I'm sure Mr. Red Mill would be thrilled to know that he went to all the trouble of building a giant red building to sell his products and we still refer to it as the Bean Store. They serve a kick ass breakfast which is a huge motivator. I bought tons of legumes and breakfast grains and a couple of bags of flour. I'm trying a new recipe for Thanksgiving. I've got the test loaf going now.I decided that not having a camera is making me crazy so I'm going to do something I never do and pull money out of savings and not do very much homework and march into a camera store downtown on Monday and buy something. i hope I'm not sitting here in 6 months and linking to this post and talking about what an idiot I am. I keep seeing great things that should have their pictures taken. Like Bob's side order of pancakes this morning. He got three different kinds and each one came on its own different colored plate. Or the vacuum cleaner the construction crew was using at the office had giant block letters on it that said: LOUD.
Don't you think that O.K. Go song "Here it goes again" sounds like a lost song from the Valley Girl soundtrack? (That's a huge good thing, by the way)
My beeper just went off and it's time to run out to the Clark College Pow Wow. Busy day.
Archives Update: : I fricked around with it for a little while earlier today and now most of the archives are working. I guess blogger gets tired after awhile and can't seem to muster the strength to republishing my entire blob. You get what you pay for.
Friday, November 17, 2006
The Test Kitchen
This week feels like it's gone on forever. I'm beat.
Wednesday's NYT Dining In had my favorite food porn type of article: perfect pie crust. You'd think after reading and clipping every article of this kind I've ever seen I'd be the reigning gold medalist in both the single and double pie crust events. But no, I haven't even been invited to try out for the team.
Pie lady made 5 pie crusts with various approaches to the fat part: 1 all butter, 1 all shortening and 3 with different amounts of both.
She said butter won hands down. Dang, I don't like butter crust. (I'm appalled, too but I like what I like.) I use the all shortening method which she says is popular because it's easier to handle. If that's easiest I guess I'd better to stick to what I'm doing.
Don't you think being a test cook would be a weird job?
Every time I read an article and they roasted 18 turkeys, or made 12 kinds of green bean salad or once it was bread pudding and I swear the article said they made 40 different kinds to find the perfect recipe, all I can think about is the stuff that didn't work. Do they give it to homeless shelters? Do they take it home to their families? Who had to taste and report on 40 different kinds of bread pudding? Do they throw lots away? Are they so sick of bread pudding by the end that they have the perfect recipe for a food they never want to see again in their lives?
I hate wasting food and I remember how awful I felt tossing a huge pan of carrot cake that I'd royally screwed up. I think I forgot half the flour and it was a soupy mess that nothing could save. It made a hollow whump! when it hit the bottom of the garbage can. I didn't make it again.
This week feels like it's gone on forever. I'm beat.Wednesday's NYT Dining In had my favorite food porn type of article: perfect pie crust. You'd think after reading and clipping every article of this kind I've ever seen I'd be the reigning gold medalist in both the single and double pie crust events. But no, I haven't even been invited to try out for the team.
Pie lady made 5 pie crusts with various approaches to the fat part: 1 all butter, 1 all shortening and 3 with different amounts of both.
She said butter won hands down. Dang, I don't like butter crust. (I'm appalled, too but I like what I like.) I use the all shortening method which she says is popular because it's easier to handle. If that's easiest I guess I'd better to stick to what I'm doing.
Don't you think being a test cook would be a weird job?
Every time I read an article and they roasted 18 turkeys, or made 12 kinds of green bean salad or once it was bread pudding and I swear the article said they made 40 different kinds to find the perfect recipe, all I can think about is the stuff that didn't work. Do they give it to homeless shelters? Do they take it home to their families? Who had to taste and report on 40 different kinds of bread pudding? Do they throw lots away? Are they so sick of bread pudding by the end that they have the perfect recipe for a food they never want to see again in their lives?
I hate wasting food and I remember how awful I felt tossing a huge pan of carrot cake that I'd royally screwed up. I think I forgot half the flour and it was a soupy mess that nothing could save. It made a hollow whump! when it hit the bottom of the garbage can. I didn't make it again.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Pamily Values
Last night after I finished my delicious dinner of leftover soup washed down with two glasses of my favorite $6.99 Trader Joes Tempranillo the phone rang and you know the best calls always come around dinner time.
It sounded like a recording except the recording asked me questions so I'm not sure if it was a robot blend or the lady was just so filled with family values that she spoke without inflection.
She identified herself as being from the Dove Foundation which I had never heard of before. Then she started with something about families, kids, and concerned parents and grandparents. I almost cut her off right there because I have no children and was anxious to be excused from the call. But I let her go on because she was talking about how don't I think that measures for monitoring violence and adult content in entertainment aren't doing enough? (Note: I'm totally paraphrasing here, especially in favor of my side of the story.)
No, I said.
She went on into a longer speech making statements like, "We're not about censorship," and "Sure parents can be doing something in the home but that's not enough," and "We all know Hollywood won't make movies with our family values, don't you think we should do something about that?"
I behaved poorly because I laughed and said, You're crazy.
She told me her message was intended for concerned parents and grandparents and thanked me for my input.
I wish I'd had my act more together and could have stated my opinion more intelligently. If people want to get together and promote family entertainment, I have no problem with that. I have a big problem with someone calling my home and telling what to think and feel about a particular subject while making untrue statements and projecting a particular set of values on me. I'd love to write 10 more screens on this except, it's of limited interest and my writing time for today has long expired.
Last night after I finished my delicious dinner of leftover soup washed down with two glasses of my favorite $6.99 Trader Joes Tempranillo the phone rang and you know the best calls always come around dinner time.
It sounded like a recording except the recording asked me questions so I'm not sure if it was a robot blend or the lady was just so filled with family values that she spoke without inflection.
She identified herself as being from the Dove Foundation which I had never heard of before. Then she started with something about families, kids, and concerned parents and grandparents. I almost cut her off right there because I have no children and was anxious to be excused from the call. But I let her go on because she was talking about how don't I think that measures for monitoring violence and adult content in entertainment aren't doing enough? (Note: I'm totally paraphrasing here, especially in favor of my side of the story.)
No, I said.
She went on into a longer speech making statements like, "We're not about censorship," and "Sure parents can be doing something in the home but that's not enough," and "We all know Hollywood won't make movies with our family values, don't you think we should do something about that?"
I behaved poorly because I laughed and said, You're crazy.
She told me her message was intended for concerned parents and grandparents and thanked me for my input.
I wish I'd had my act more together and could have stated my opinion more intelligently. If people want to get together and promote family entertainment, I have no problem with that. I have a big problem with someone calling my home and telling what to think and feel about a particular subject while making untrue statements and projecting a particular set of values on me. I'd love to write 10 more screens on this except, it's of limited interest and my writing time for today has long expired.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Five Things I Like to Cook (including baking)
1. Apple Pie.
Home baked apple pie is one of the best foods known to man. My struggles to make pie crust have been well documented (e.g. here, here and here. ) however, I do it anyway because no matter how badly it's patched together it always tastes and smells fantastic. I like mine still warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I probably make at least 10 apple pies a year and it's one of my favorite things to bring to a function. No one ever says, "Bummer. Apple pie."
I use the Betty Crocker recipe from my Mom's cookbook and use unhealthy shortening in my crust. One of my tips is to use a mix of apples but at least half should be of a tart variety.
Yesterday on the radio a guy was talking about how he makes pies from scratch and he always wants to try other peoples pies to see how they measure up and so on. Another guy asked him what he means by scratch and he says he gets the pastry shell at the grocery store and then cuts and spices the fruit himself. This does not fit my definition of baking from scratch.
[Aside: while looking for pie stories I found I've already written about the futility of the Great Pumpkin. I have zero recollection of this. ]
2. Tamales.
I learned how to make these fairly recently. We have a friend from Mexico and I was hoping she would teach me but it never worked out and I had to take matters into my own hands. I read as many recipes as I could find in books and online and then went for it and it turned out to be labor intensive, but easy.
Now I've made them a bunch of times and can whip out a big batch without breaking a sweat. The corn masa bag has a recipe, too. I use real lard for the tamale and fill them with a mixture of cooked chicken, cheese, chiles and lots of spices.
They're super delicious with green salsa and perhaps a dab of sour cream. Great to freeze and serve later and a great gift. People love tamales.
3. Gumbo.
I use the Cooks Illustrated recipe and I would give you the date of the issue if I had it handy. It's pretty labor intensive so I have to want to spend most of the day in the kitchen. It has shrimp and sausage and all kinds of seasonings and is magically delicious. Unfortunately, this is one of the foods I ate leading up to the digestive system meltdown I had in April so now I'm afraid of it.
4. Bob's White Bean Chili and other Taco-ey Things.
Bob's white bean chili is a recipe I got from the Oregonian and is basically chili using chicken and white beans. But it's easy to make, great for leftovers and yummy every time. We do a lot of chili or taco type variations. We use regular tortillas or Safeway sells tortilla crowns which are taco salad bowls made out of corn. I use Penzeys Taco Seasoning, I just bought a ginormous bag, and ground turkey. The usual toppings: grated cheese, lettuce, onions, salsa, sour cream. If we're getting crazy we open a can of olives. My favorite food group.
5. Chocolate Chip Cookies
I've turned into a cookie snob and only like home baked cookies. A chocolate chip cookie is my favorite sweet. I make a batch every couple of weeks and put them in ziplock bags and freeze them and keep them at the office for an afternoon treat. I use the Toll House recipe or the Cooks Illustrated and use lots of nuts, pecans or walnuts, which I toast before I chop. One of my favorite foods.
1. Apple Pie.
Home baked apple pie is one of the best foods known to man. My struggles to make pie crust have been well documented (e.g. here, here and here. ) however, I do it anyway because no matter how badly it's patched together it always tastes and smells fantastic. I like mine still warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. I probably make at least 10 apple pies a year and it's one of my favorite things to bring to a function. No one ever says, "Bummer. Apple pie."
I use the Betty Crocker recipe from my Mom's cookbook and use unhealthy shortening in my crust. One of my tips is to use a mix of apples but at least half should be of a tart variety.
Yesterday on the radio a guy was talking about how he makes pies from scratch and he always wants to try other peoples pies to see how they measure up and so on. Another guy asked him what he means by scratch and he says he gets the pastry shell at the grocery store and then cuts and spices the fruit himself. This does not fit my definition of baking from scratch.
[Aside: while looking for pie stories I found I've already written about the futility of the Great Pumpkin. I have zero recollection of this. ]
2. Tamales.
I learned how to make these fairly recently. We have a friend from Mexico and I was hoping she would teach me but it never worked out and I had to take matters into my own hands. I read as many recipes as I could find in books and online and then went for it and it turned out to be labor intensive, but easy.
Now I've made them a bunch of times and can whip out a big batch without breaking a sweat. The corn masa bag has a recipe, too. I use real lard for the tamale and fill them with a mixture of cooked chicken, cheese, chiles and lots of spices.
They're super delicious with green salsa and perhaps a dab of sour cream. Great to freeze and serve later and a great gift. People love tamales.
3. Gumbo.
I use the Cooks Illustrated recipe and I would give you the date of the issue if I had it handy. It's pretty labor intensive so I have to want to spend most of the day in the kitchen. It has shrimp and sausage and all kinds of seasonings and is magically delicious. Unfortunately, this is one of the foods I ate leading up to the digestive system meltdown I had in April so now I'm afraid of it.
4. Bob's White Bean Chili and other Taco-ey Things.
Bob's white bean chili is a recipe I got from the Oregonian and is basically chili using chicken and white beans. But it's easy to make, great for leftovers and yummy every time. We do a lot of chili or taco type variations. We use regular tortillas or Safeway sells tortilla crowns which are taco salad bowls made out of corn. I use Penzeys Taco Seasoning, I just bought a ginormous bag, and ground turkey. The usual toppings: grated cheese, lettuce, onions, salsa, sour cream. If we're getting crazy we open a can of olives. My favorite food group.
5. Chocolate Chip Cookies
I've turned into a cookie snob and only like home baked cookies. A chocolate chip cookie is my favorite sweet. I make a batch every couple of weeks and put them in ziplock bags and freeze them and keep them at the office for an afternoon treat. I use the Toll House recipe or the Cooks Illustrated and use lots of nuts, pecans or walnuts, which I toast before I chop. One of my favorite foods.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Interim Update
I've started a wonderful post about things I like to cook except I was interrupted before I could finish and now I've got work to do so, hopefully, I can finish up tonight.
Meanwhile, three quick updates.
1. I believe my archive problems could be fixed by a quick blogger republish. Except everytime I hit the republish button (home, office, various browsers and times of day), I get a hanging screen followed by an error. Will investigate further someday.
2. Remember those banking calls I was avoiding? Turned out worse than I imagined. Will not bore you except to say, it is my opinion that you avoid doing business with Washington Mutual Financial Services. They're yucky.
3. I want to do handmade pasta for Thanksgiving but do not possess a pasta machine and didn't want to buy one until I tried it once. I sent out a call in the office thinking among all these women, someone would have one. No, no and no. I inquired in the lunchroom and Kent (resident forester guy) found one in his attic. Score!
I've started a wonderful post about things I like to cook except I was interrupted before I could finish and now I've got work to do so, hopefully, I can finish up tonight.
Meanwhile, three quick updates.
1. I believe my archive problems could be fixed by a quick blogger republish. Except everytime I hit the republish button (home, office, various browsers and times of day), I get a hanging screen followed by an error. Will investigate further someday.
2. Remember those banking calls I was avoiding? Turned out worse than I imagined. Will not bore you except to say, it is my opinion that you avoid doing business with Washington Mutual Financial Services. They're yucky.
3. I want to do handmade pasta for Thanksgiving but do not possess a pasta machine and didn't want to buy one until I tried it once. I sent out a call in the office thinking among all these women, someone would have one. No, no and no. I inquired in the lunchroom and Kent (resident forester guy) found one in his attic. Score!
Monday, November 13, 2006
Mythical Creatures: The Paradoxasaur
(If you believe in it, it doesn't exist, if you don't believe in it, it does.)
The show let out by 9:20pm which was perfect. We weren't the oldest people there. Other than old people there were young people and, of course, the requisite hipsters: the guy with the goofy knit hat with huge earflaps and lined with fur (what are those hats called?) which he wore during the entire show, the good looking jock type who walked up the aisle using his outside voice and big arm gestures to make sure we were all looking at him (I assured him we were) and the drunk loud can't-stop-talking chick also with the flapping arms who manages to find us and position herself near us at every event we attend. I can't stand this girl.
We must have done something terrible in a past life to be continually punished like this. Please girl, leave us alone. Tell us how we can appease you.
The beer line was long. Upstairs was the faint smell of Otto's jacket. The show was not sold out but well attended. About 5 minutes before curtain an endless stream of people came in and went to the front looking for seats. Why?
I don't know how to review a comedy show. There were two other comics on the bill with Demetri and they were all funny. The middle guy did a riff about losing your cellphone and not having any of your phone numbers and feeling alone. I'm probably the only person in America who writes all my phone numbers down, on paper, and then dials them in when I use the cellphone. I am by no means suggesting that this is an intelligent thing to do.
Demetri was hilarious and looks like he's about 12 years old. He played guitar, harmonica, little bells on the floor that you hit with your foot, tambourine and keyboard. Usually two or three at a time.
I'd love to sit here and make this post better but I have a few moments and I'm going to deal with that banking thing I was whining about yesterday.
[Note to Blogger: my first impression is that this "upgrade" suxass and I fail to see what it improves.]
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Stuck In A Rut
Today's special feature is original art. I'm still trying to learn Illustrator with more frustration than not. This reminds me of learning to play guitar a long time ago when I was in college. I'm trying, but it's taking me awhile and the results aren't much to look at. I'm still having fun, I just wish I could catch on a little easier.
I thought instead of grinding through tutorials I'd make something myself. I find I learn a lot when I have to figure it out rather than the book telling me what to do. Almost two hours later, ta da! I had to abandon my first effort because it got brown and when I shrunk it to proper size it looked turd-like and made me want to stick forks in my eyes.
Aside from Illustrator, I'm stuck in the biggest rut. I can't seem to move forward on anything. Little piddly chores go ignored. Paper accumulates. Dust bunnies peek out from the corners. Lists get stapled to other lists, or thrown away because that's easiest.
For example I have a banking matter thats probably going to involve at least 3 phone calls. All week long I think: Friday I will take care of this. But then Friday rolls around and I take care of a few other things and can't bear the idea of making numerous phone calls for this matter. So I think, well this week for sure. I will do this on my lunch hour. Or, I'll definitely take care of it before I go home. Now several weeks have gone by. The matter is unresolved and becoming time sensitive.
Yesterday we took advantage of the sunbreak to take a wonderful walk. I wish I would have had my camera (and that it worked) so I could have taken a picture of a huge sign someone put on a telephone pole: Jennifer: I LOVED You.
I didn't want to, but I worked outside and cut down most of the Dahlias and dug a small batch of bulbs, washed them and set them out in the garage to dry. I suppose I should carefully store them today so I don't run into mass-of-moldy-bulbs next spring.
We're going to see Demetri Martin tonight. Going out on a Sunday night is something I have a firm policy of never doing. We did last weekend because it was part of our lecture series and other than the biblical downpour when the lecture let out, it wasn't that bad. Demetri is a comedian from the Daily Show. I loved him the first time I saw him but it still took a bit of convincing before I agreed to it. Since I believe his target demographic is about half my age, you know, people who don't covet sleep as they should, it's seems a lot to hope for that I'll be in bed before 11pm. But maybe.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
The Hot Cocoa Ceremony
Start with a your favorite large coffee mug and fill it with milk.
Pour the milk into a blender and add a heaping tablespoon of cocoa. I recommend Penzey's Dutch Process. Hershey's also works. Unsweetened is ideal because then you can sweeten to taste.
Next, add any or all of the following to the blender:
Pinch salt
Pinch Cayenne
Tiny splash of vanilla (careful on this because too much wrecks it)
Sugar. The cocoa is much tastier if it's not too sweet so don't be afraid to be stingy with the sugar.
Next, put the top on the blender, hold it down just to be safe, and hit any button. The speed isn't important. Once you're sure the lid is secure, you can step away from the blender and let it do its thing while you find a pan to heat your chocolatey treat.
When your cocoa is sufficiently frothy (use your judgment) turn off the blender and pour the mix into your pan. Heat at a low temperature and don't go into the other room to check your email and forget about it. Most people would prefer if it didn't boil. I like to stir with a whisk.
It's ready when you stick your finger in the mix and go, "ack, that's hot." Pour into your mug.
At this point you can add mini-marshmallows, a quick shaving of chocolate, a splash of adult beverage or anything else you think might be good. I know some people who like to add a tablespoon of flax seeds to the mix. I can see why this might be hard to sell to the public-at-large but you never know, try it.
Since you've spend this much time and gotten this many dishes dirty, you need to take the time to enjoy this cocoa. Sit down by the window and watch the wind and rain. Pull your sweater a little more tightly around your shoulders. Enjoy.
Start with a your favorite large coffee mug and fill it with milk.
Pour the milk into a blender and add a heaping tablespoon of cocoa. I recommend Penzey's Dutch Process. Hershey's also works. Unsweetened is ideal because then you can sweeten to taste.
Next, add any or all of the following to the blender:
Pinch salt
Pinch Cayenne
Tiny splash of vanilla (careful on this because too much wrecks it)
Sugar. The cocoa is much tastier if it's not too sweet so don't be afraid to be stingy with the sugar.
Next, put the top on the blender, hold it down just to be safe, and hit any button. The speed isn't important. Once you're sure the lid is secure, you can step away from the blender and let it do its thing while you find a pan to heat your chocolatey treat.
When your cocoa is sufficiently frothy (use your judgment) turn off the blender and pour the mix into your pan. Heat at a low temperature and don't go into the other room to check your email and forget about it. Most people would prefer if it didn't boil. I like to stir with a whisk.
It's ready when you stick your finger in the mix and go, "ack, that's hot." Pour into your mug.
At this point you can add mini-marshmallows, a quick shaving of chocolate, a splash of adult beverage or anything else you think might be good. I know some people who like to add a tablespoon of flax seeds to the mix. I can see why this might be hard to sell to the public-at-large but you never know, try it.
Since you've spend this much time and gotten this many dishes dirty, you need to take the time to enjoy this cocoa. Sit down by the window and watch the wind and rain. Pull your sweater a little more tightly around your shoulders. Enjoy.
Friday, November 10, 2006
It's a Trap. The coupon is a Trap.
This morning I did something so completely stupid you'd think I don't pay attention to my own advice.
Based on a direct mail coupon, I made an appointment to get a "winter service special" for my car at the dealership. (01 Camry with 70K miles, so you have the details.) Today I took the car in.
You know what coupon means in car service? It means, "We must make up for the $4.99 you're going to save by finding at least $100 worth of other services to recommend."
DOH! This after reading on Consumerist that auto mechanics get paid on commission. Some in the 40% range. Sure, the article is referring to one particular business. We don't know if all auto mechanics work on commission. But it makes you think, eh?
I didn't have class today because of Veterans Day and this is the first Friday morning I've had since September so I had a ton of errands planned, including this car service which consists of an oil change, tire rotate, battery check, windshield wiper change (the selling point for me!) and something with fluids or hoses or whatever.
I made a 7:30am appointment thinking the drag ass out of bed early would be paid off when I was finished early and could have a fine morning of errand running. They said 1½ hours and I said no problem. Because I had tons of reading material with me.
Just like Murphy's Law on a plane, I had a guy sit down next to me who wanted to chat. But he was mildly entertaining and I listened to his stories. He was doing the same service as me.
2½ hours later we were both a little antsy. Why was this taking so long? We joked it was probably the coupon. The guy came out to talk to him about his truck first and as soon as he opened his mouth I realized that I totally was forked by the coupon. He had a laundry list of things that should probably be taken care of.
They called my name and I followed my guy into the screw-a-torium. $527 worth of recommended services, plus replacing the spark plugs, no price given and some sort of air filter thing which I said fine: whatever. May your stupid coupon at least pay for itself.
Two of the items were 60K mile services items. "But I had the 60K mile service," I protested. "Here?" the guy says.
No I did not. There is another dealership more convenient to my office so depending on what type of service I need and what my schedule is like, I switch back and forth. Apparently only the service I have at that dealership counts.
"No," I say, "Can't you tell by looking at it?"
"It doesn't look like it was done 10K ago." Is he covering his ass or did I not get this done? I don't know and now like Fox Mulder, I trust no one.
One item was a front brake replacement which I expected except he wanted to wheel and deal and I did not want to spend one more minute of my morning sitting there.
One item was a battery, which I expected because I have a 60-month battery that turned 60 several months ago. I've been keeping an eye on it. $120. Obviously I'm stupid but that sounded awfully steep for a battery. When I balked, he started wheeling and dealing again.
One item had to do with the fuel injection. Remember my bent-over-the-hood of my Toyota story from a couple of years ago? (scroll down to June 1 and work your way up) I have to doublecheck my records but I thought they replaced my whole fuel injector apparatus during that fiasco. Does it really need to be serviced again? Are the two issues even related? This guy didn't know jackcrap unless it was in his system.
Crap. I thought I was supposed to be able to trust the dealer.
Bob's going to take the car to Les Schwab for the battery (I'll report my savings here) and talk to them about the brakes. I'm going to look at my 60K service and see what they did. Crap. I hate car stuff.
But I LOVE my new windshield wipers.
Update: Bob got me a battery at Les Schwab for $72.
This morning I did something so completely stupid you'd think I don't pay attention to my own advice.
Based on a direct mail coupon, I made an appointment to get a "winter service special" for my car at the dealership. (01 Camry with 70K miles, so you have the details.) Today I took the car in.
You know what coupon means in car service? It means, "We must make up for the $4.99 you're going to save by finding at least $100 worth of other services to recommend."
DOH! This after reading on Consumerist that auto mechanics get paid on commission. Some in the 40% range. Sure, the article is referring to one particular business. We don't know if all auto mechanics work on commission. But it makes you think, eh?
I didn't have class today because of Veterans Day and this is the first Friday morning I've had since September so I had a ton of errands planned, including this car service which consists of an oil change, tire rotate, battery check, windshield wiper change (the selling point for me!) and something with fluids or hoses or whatever.
I made a 7:30am appointment thinking the drag ass out of bed early would be paid off when I was finished early and could have a fine morning of errand running. They said 1½ hours and I said no problem. Because I had tons of reading material with me.
Just like Murphy's Law on a plane, I had a guy sit down next to me who wanted to chat. But he was mildly entertaining and I listened to his stories. He was doing the same service as me.
2½ hours later we were both a little antsy. Why was this taking so long? We joked it was probably the coupon. The guy came out to talk to him about his truck first and as soon as he opened his mouth I realized that I totally was forked by the coupon. He had a laundry list of things that should probably be taken care of.
They called my name and I followed my guy into the screw-a-torium. $527 worth of recommended services, plus replacing the spark plugs, no price given and some sort of air filter thing which I said fine: whatever. May your stupid coupon at least pay for itself.
Two of the items were 60K mile services items. "But I had the 60K mile service," I protested. "Here?" the guy says.
No I did not. There is another dealership more convenient to my office so depending on what type of service I need and what my schedule is like, I switch back and forth. Apparently only the service I have at that dealership counts.
"No," I say, "Can't you tell by looking at it?"
"It doesn't look like it was done 10K ago." Is he covering his ass or did I not get this done? I don't know and now like Fox Mulder, I trust no one.
One item was a front brake replacement which I expected except he wanted to wheel and deal and I did not want to spend one more minute of my morning sitting there.
One item was a battery, which I expected because I have a 60-month battery that turned 60 several months ago. I've been keeping an eye on it. $120. Obviously I'm stupid but that sounded awfully steep for a battery. When I balked, he started wheeling and dealing again.
One item had to do with the fuel injection. Remember my bent-over-the-hood of my Toyota story from a couple of years ago? (scroll down to June 1 and work your way up) I have to doublecheck my records but I thought they replaced my whole fuel injector apparatus during that fiasco. Does it really need to be serviced again? Are the two issues even related? This guy didn't know jackcrap unless it was in his system.
Crap. I thought I was supposed to be able to trust the dealer.
Bob's going to take the car to Les Schwab for the battery (I'll report my savings here) and talk to them about the brakes. I'm going to look at my 60K service and see what they did. Crap. I hate car stuff.
But I LOVE my new windshield wipers.
Update: Bob got me a battery at Les Schwab for $72.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Wanted: Blow Torch
One of this weekend's projects is figuring out what I'm going to make for Thanksgiving.
We're a very small crowd (3) and I decided months ago that I didn't want to make turkey. I was sure that as the holiday got closer I would change my mind but I haven't. I'm not sure what this is all about because I love the traditional Thanksgiving dinner but I don't want to do it.
Part of me says it's the work. But the things I'm thinking of making would also be lots of work.
Anyway, I need to go through my giant recipe files and books with marked pages and figure out what it's going to be.
At the moment I'm thinking handmade pasta because I've always wanted to do that. I recently ran across a recipe for pasta with pancetta and something else. I can't remember exactly but it sounded like it would be good.
Yesterday's New York Times had a fantastic looking bread recipe that I think I might try. Bob and I have been talking about making a bean store run so I could grab some special flour along with all my other treats.
I'd need some sort of vegetable side. I need to do some homework on that one. And dessert.
As my regular readers know, I'm all about all things pumpkin and I have a bushel sitting on my counter just longing to fulfill their life purpose to be baked into a pie. BUT Cooks Illustrated just had a Pots de Crème recipe that was very tempting. And I've been dying to try Crème Brûlée. I have a Kitchen Kaboodle gift certificate burning (heh heh) a hole in my pocket. Could a home kitchen blow torch be far behind?
One of this weekend's projects is figuring out what I'm going to make for Thanksgiving.
We're a very small crowd (3) and I decided months ago that I didn't want to make turkey. I was sure that as the holiday got closer I would change my mind but I haven't. I'm not sure what this is all about because I love the traditional Thanksgiving dinner but I don't want to do it.
Part of me says it's the work. But the things I'm thinking of making would also be lots of work.
Anyway, I need to go through my giant recipe files and books with marked pages and figure out what it's going to be.
At the moment I'm thinking handmade pasta because I've always wanted to do that. I recently ran across a recipe for pasta with pancetta and something else. I can't remember exactly but it sounded like it would be good.
Yesterday's New York Times had a fantastic looking bread recipe that I think I might try. Bob and I have been talking about making a bean store run so I could grab some special flour along with all my other treats.
I'd need some sort of vegetable side. I need to do some homework on that one. And dessert.
As my regular readers know, I'm all about all things pumpkin and I have a bushel sitting on my counter just longing to fulfill their life purpose to be baked into a pie. BUT Cooks Illustrated just had a Pots de Crème recipe that was very tempting. And I've been dying to try Crème Brûlée. I have a Kitchen Kaboodle gift certificate burning (heh heh) a hole in my pocket. Could a home kitchen blow torch be far behind?
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
The Futility Factor
When I was a kid, my Mom was a school teacher and for my birthday parties we would get to watch movies. This was way, way, way before the days of VCRs and DVDs and DVRs and a pretty big forking deal.
She would bring home a film projector and we'd have to pick a movie and there weren't ten trillion choices so we'd get some variation of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, I remember something with bears, or my favorite: Paddle to the Sea.
Wikipedia tells me that Paddle to the Sea was a 1941 children's book by a Canadian writer named Holling C. Holling. (It's a cool name but what were his parents thinking?)
The movie was made in 1966 and is about a boy who carves this Indian in a canoe and then after all his hard work, runs out to the front yard and lets it go in a stream. The movie follows the Indian canoe as it travels into bigger and bigger water. Being that I was a kid, I didn't really get that the journey started in Canada and went through the Great Lakes to the Atlantic ocean.
I must have seen it at least a half dozen times because we also watched it at school. I still have vivid memories of the images of this film. The little canoe bobbing along next to ginormous ships. I would love to see it now and you can buy it from the National Film Board of Canada. I'm guessing demand is low as the only format is VHS.
Another movie that we watched at my birthday party and also at school at least once a year, every year, for-freaking-ever that I did not like was The Red Balloon. Omigod, I HATED that movie. Every time I had to watch it I'd come home from school and whine to my Mom. I can barely remember what I hated so much except I think it pissed me off that there was no dialogue and why was that dumb kid pointlessly chasing around this stupid red balloon?
Yesterday boingboing linked to the movie online I accidentally clicked on it and even just the opening credits made me mad. Ug, that music.
I also never liked the Great Pumpkin and I would link to it but the last two times I opened the imdb page, it crashed my browser. I think my problem with these stories was the futility factor. Linus stayed out in the pumpkin patch all night long: for nothing. That French kid had nothing better to do chase around a balloon that had a short expiration date. For proper literary scope, I should probably include a third example, but nothing is coming right now and this was intended to be a phoned in entry rather than an exhaustive study of my early cinematic experiences so I'm coming to a screeching halt right here.
When I was a kid, my Mom was a school teacher and for my birthday parties we would get to watch movies. This was way, way, way before the days of VCRs and DVDs and DVRs and a pretty big forking deal.
She would bring home a film projector and we'd have to pick a movie and there weren't ten trillion choices so we'd get some variation of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, I remember something with bears, or my favorite: Paddle to the Sea.
Wikipedia tells me that Paddle to the Sea was a 1941 children's book by a Canadian writer named Holling C. Holling. (It's a cool name but what were his parents thinking?)
The movie was made in 1966 and is about a boy who carves this Indian in a canoe and then after all his hard work, runs out to the front yard and lets it go in a stream. The movie follows the Indian canoe as it travels into bigger and bigger water. Being that I was a kid, I didn't really get that the journey started in Canada and went through the Great Lakes to the Atlantic ocean.
I must have seen it at least a half dozen times because we also watched it at school. I still have vivid memories of the images of this film. The little canoe bobbing along next to ginormous ships. I would love to see it now and you can buy it from the National Film Board of Canada. I'm guessing demand is low as the only format is VHS.
Another movie that we watched at my birthday party and also at school at least once a year, every year, for-freaking-ever that I did not like was The Red Balloon. Omigod, I HATED that movie. Every time I had to watch it I'd come home from school and whine to my Mom. I can barely remember what I hated so much except I think it pissed me off that there was no dialogue and why was that dumb kid pointlessly chasing around this stupid red balloon?
Yesterday boingboing linked to the movie online I accidentally clicked on it and even just the opening credits made me mad. Ug, that music.
I also never liked the Great Pumpkin and I would link to it but the last two times I opened the imdb page, it crashed my browser. I think my problem with these stories was the futility factor. Linus stayed out in the pumpkin patch all night long: for nothing. That French kid had nothing better to do chase around a balloon that had a short expiration date. For proper literary scope, I should probably include a third example, but nothing is coming right now and this was intended to be a phoned in entry rather than an exhaustive study of my early cinematic experiences so I'm coming to a screeching halt right here.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Rain In Your Eyes
I used a tiny sticky note to jot down some ideas for today's post and now, shocker, I can't find it. Oh well.
I know one of the topics was this rain we're having. I'm guessing another 8 feet since I last mentioned it. I know PAC NW rain is legend but normal rain is like a steady grey drizzle. The kind of weather where you can still go for a walk or do sports or possibly even have a barbeque if you're so inclined. Half the time you don't even need an umbrella.
The rain we're having has me permanently strapped into a life vest and scanning Craigslist for a message from Noah. Oh good and look, today's forecast is for heavy rains. Fortunately tomorrow the chance of rain plummets to 80%. Cross your fingers!
With all this rain I'm surprised that instead of flooding stories, I keep hearing people talking about an earthquake we had the other night. They discussed it on the radio and in the lunch room and at yoga class. One guy on the radio moved to the west coast recently and was disappointed that he was in the car and missed it as he cannot wait to experience an earthquake. (Insert Jon Stewart HUH? here.) Careful what you wish for guy because waking up to shaking walls and tumbling furniture is not really a good time.
You can imagine my surprise to see in the paper that this "earthquake" was a 2.6. That's not an earthquake, that's a fire truck passing by. This is sort of like when Los Angeles gets a quarter inch of rain and the whole city shuts down and people up here sneer about how they can't handle the rain. Or like what Minnesota thinks about us when we get a quarter inch of accumulated snow and the city shuts down. We need to reserve our excitement for the real deal.
Another item I wanted to mention is that I finished watching Lemony Snicket last night and LOVED it. I haven't read the books, although I want to, but I'm too much of a tightwad to pay $10 for a book I can read in 45 minutes. I thought the movie got lukewarm reviews but Erin liked it so I got it from Netflix. I liked the story and the characters but I loved the way it looked and I was mesmerized by the closing credits and saved the disk so I can watch that part again. They should make a show out of that.
Finally, I'm sad to report that I heard on the radio this morning that String Cheese Incident is disbanding, I think at the end of next summer. I'm not sad for me, but sad for my spouse. I wrote a review of one of their shows here and I can't find it to save my life but I thought their shows were fun enough to attend one per year. I had a one show Cheese limit.
I used a tiny sticky note to jot down some ideas for today's post and now, shocker, I can't find it. Oh well.
I know one of the topics was this rain we're having. I'm guessing another 8 feet since I last mentioned it. I know PAC NW rain is legend but normal rain is like a steady grey drizzle. The kind of weather where you can still go for a walk or do sports or possibly even have a barbeque if you're so inclined. Half the time you don't even need an umbrella.
The rain we're having has me permanently strapped into a life vest and scanning Craigslist for a message from Noah. Oh good and look, today's forecast is for heavy rains. Fortunately tomorrow the chance of rain plummets to 80%. Cross your fingers!
With all this rain I'm surprised that instead of flooding stories, I keep hearing people talking about an earthquake we had the other night. They discussed it on the radio and in the lunch room and at yoga class. One guy on the radio moved to the west coast recently and was disappointed that he was in the car and missed it as he cannot wait to experience an earthquake. (Insert Jon Stewart HUH? here.) Careful what you wish for guy because waking up to shaking walls and tumbling furniture is not really a good time.
You can imagine my surprise to see in the paper that this "earthquake" was a 2.6. That's not an earthquake, that's a fire truck passing by. This is sort of like when Los Angeles gets a quarter inch of rain and the whole city shuts down and people up here sneer about how they can't handle the rain. Or like what Minnesota thinks about us when we get a quarter inch of accumulated snow and the city shuts down. We need to reserve our excitement for the real deal.
Another item I wanted to mention is that I finished watching Lemony Snicket last night and LOVED it. I haven't read the books, although I want to, but I'm too much of a tightwad to pay $10 for a book I can read in 45 minutes. I thought the movie got lukewarm reviews but Erin liked it so I got it from Netflix. I liked the story and the characters but I loved the way it looked and I was mesmerized by the closing credits and saved the disk so I can watch that part again. They should make a show out of that.
Finally, I'm sad to report that I heard on the radio this morning that String Cheese Incident is disbanding, I think at the end of next summer. I'm not sad for me, but sad for my spouse. I wrote a review of one of their shows here and I can't find it to save my life but I thought their shows were fun enough to attend one per year. I had a one show Cheese limit.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Prehistoric MySpace
When I was a kid, my hobby was writing letters. I collected pen-pals.
My first pen-pal was my friend Julie Kaufer. Her family lived on our street in Encino, CA and they moved to Malibu. This was back in the elementary school era and, not having cars to travel that 30 or so miles, we started writing letters.
For a long time I saved all my letters but this eventually became ridiculous so I tossed most but I'm pretty sure I have a pile of Julie's letters in a box somewhere. I think the last time I saw her was her Bat Mitzvah or possibly a high school graduation party, but by then we'd grown apart and the letter writing was long finished.
I also wrote letters to my cousins and sometime around middle school, I started writing to people looking for pen-pals who had their names and addresses in magazines. It's hard to imagine now that there was ever a good time for a 13 year old girl to list her name and home address in a magazine, but there you go.
Turns out, it was a thriving subculture. There were networks of kids who shared addresses and put together these little handmade booklets called slam books that had variations but usually listed a different question on each page and you'd fill it in and send it on and ideally, it would eventually go back to the person who made the book. You could also write to other people listed in the book. Then there were these labels you could have printed up with your favorite band or a saying and you could get these with a friend and stick them in the slam book or trade them with people. Mine had Journey and Def Leppard sayings on them.
I have no sense of how much time I spent doing this, I don't think it was ridiculous. And I have no idea how many pen-pals I had because there were always new one and old ones dropping off. Let's say never more than 20 at one time.
There was one girl, Tami from Georgia, who got pregnant at 16. She moved to a special class at her school with the other girls who were pregnant where the school hoped to at least get these girls a diploma. She eventually married the guy and then had another kid before we lost touch. I had another pal from Tennessee who got married right out of high school with a big fancy wedding. She sent me pictures that I admired with a twinge of jealousy. It seemed so romantic.
Every once in awhile I wonder how these women's lives turned out. They're both probably grandmothers right now.
Somewhere along the way I also began corresponding with men in prison. My parents must have been clueless, although I don't remember trying to hide it. I do remember more than one of my friends telling me that their parents though it was a bad idea. It's hard for me to have any perspective now on the appropriateness of the situation. I wrote about being a high school student. They wrote about their lives. It didn't seem weird at the time. I never worried that one of them was going to try to find me and none of them ever did.
Only one of these pals lasted for any length of time. Bill was in prison on the east coast and now that I think of it, I think he was busted for assaulting a woman. Okay, so this entire post is evidence of what a moron I am. At least nothing bad happened.
Bill and I wrote for a number of years and I occasionally sent him stationery, I think this was one of the few gifts he could receive, and we even exchanged a few cassette letters. He was not very bright but harmless enough. When he got out of prison he hooked up with another of his pen-pals. I'm sure her parents were thrilled. And the last letter I got from him he was having a tough time and had been working at Pizza Hut until he accidentally almost cut his finger off. I guess life was not easy for poor Bill.
By the time I got to college I didn't have as much time. I still corresponded with friends that had moved or relatives but I dropped the pen-pal thing. Although it's pretty much email now, I still have a few people in Germany that I send paper letters to and I still like to write a letter in a birthday card.
I'm still in touch with two of my pen-pals from back in the day. I met Debbie from a gymnastics magazine. She lived in Maspeth NY and came to visit me once when I lived in L.A. She now lives in Florida and we usually check-in during the holidays. Darren and I met from a guitar magazine and he lived in Wichita until he recently moved to S. Cal. We email on a fairly regular basis.
By all of this I guess I'm explaining that I have a long, long history of writing about what I'm up to for other people. You can see how this blogging thing would be natural for me.
When I was a kid, my hobby was writing letters. I collected pen-pals.
My first pen-pal was my friend Julie Kaufer. Her family lived on our street in Encino, CA and they moved to Malibu. This was back in the elementary school era and, not having cars to travel that 30 or so miles, we started writing letters.
For a long time I saved all my letters but this eventually became ridiculous so I tossed most but I'm pretty sure I have a pile of Julie's letters in a box somewhere. I think the last time I saw her was her Bat Mitzvah or possibly a high school graduation party, but by then we'd grown apart and the letter writing was long finished.
I also wrote letters to my cousins and sometime around middle school, I started writing to people looking for pen-pals who had their names and addresses in magazines. It's hard to imagine now that there was ever a good time for a 13 year old girl to list her name and home address in a magazine, but there you go.
Turns out, it was a thriving subculture. There were networks of kids who shared addresses and put together these little handmade booklets called slam books that had variations but usually listed a different question on each page and you'd fill it in and send it on and ideally, it would eventually go back to the person who made the book. You could also write to other people listed in the book. Then there were these labels you could have printed up with your favorite band or a saying and you could get these with a friend and stick them in the slam book or trade them with people. Mine had Journey and Def Leppard sayings on them.
I have no sense of how much time I spent doing this, I don't think it was ridiculous. And I have no idea how many pen-pals I had because there were always new one and old ones dropping off. Let's say never more than 20 at one time.
There was one girl, Tami from Georgia, who got pregnant at 16. She moved to a special class at her school with the other girls who were pregnant where the school hoped to at least get these girls a diploma. She eventually married the guy and then had another kid before we lost touch. I had another pal from Tennessee who got married right out of high school with a big fancy wedding. She sent me pictures that I admired with a twinge of jealousy. It seemed so romantic.
Every once in awhile I wonder how these women's lives turned out. They're both probably grandmothers right now.
Somewhere along the way I also began corresponding with men in prison. My parents must have been clueless, although I don't remember trying to hide it. I do remember more than one of my friends telling me that their parents though it was a bad idea. It's hard for me to have any perspective now on the appropriateness of the situation. I wrote about being a high school student. They wrote about their lives. It didn't seem weird at the time. I never worried that one of them was going to try to find me and none of them ever did.
Only one of these pals lasted for any length of time. Bill was in prison on the east coast and now that I think of it, I think he was busted for assaulting a woman. Okay, so this entire post is evidence of what a moron I am. At least nothing bad happened.
Bill and I wrote for a number of years and I occasionally sent him stationery, I think this was one of the few gifts he could receive, and we even exchanged a few cassette letters. He was not very bright but harmless enough. When he got out of prison he hooked up with another of his pen-pals. I'm sure her parents were thrilled. And the last letter I got from him he was having a tough time and had been working at Pizza Hut until he accidentally almost cut his finger off. I guess life was not easy for poor Bill.
By the time I got to college I didn't have as much time. I still corresponded with friends that had moved or relatives but I dropped the pen-pal thing. Although it's pretty much email now, I still have a few people in Germany that I send paper letters to and I still like to write a letter in a birthday card.
I'm still in touch with two of my pen-pals from back in the day. I met Debbie from a gymnastics magazine. She lived in Maspeth NY and came to visit me once when I lived in L.A. She now lives in Florida and we usually check-in during the holidays. Darren and I met from a guitar magazine and he lived in Wichita until he recently moved to S. Cal. We email on a fairly regular basis.
By all of this I guess I'm explaining that I have a long, long history of writing about what I'm up to for other people. You can see how this blogging thing would be natural for me.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
The End is Here
Today was going to be dahlia digging day because the weather people cruelly teased us with the information that today we were having a break from the rain. (Also note that the "after" photo comes from the special effects camera. I've got fall clothing needs and the holidays are upon us, thus I have yet to remedy my kaput camera.]
I realize that about 28 days in the month of October were a break from the rain, and I love the rain. But I don't love an unrelenting downpour that makes commuting or even the smallest errand a soggy pain in the ass. Today's paper says we've had 1.62 inches of rain this month and I'm not sure what measuring stick they're using because by my estimate we've had about 8 feet.
So for now the dahlias have to wait. Better luck next weekend. I'm not digging them all if you're thinking about last year's disaster (scroll down to Nov 19, I can never make that link to target thing work right). I'm only digging a few side patches that I want to move and I'm digging up yellow ones to share with Kimberlee. Also I have one short orangey one that was beautiful but hard to appreciate nestled amongst the taller plants. Much smaller scale this year. Let's hope it goes better this time. (scroll to Mar 2).
[Aside again on comments. I'm doing it wrong and being on the computer is making me mad so I'm going to do an art project, away from the computer, in a completely different room and try to figure it out later — possibly around the same time I dig dahlias. I suspect it has something to do with the stuff I pasted into my template since everything else seems to be in order. Other people using blogger seem to have normal comments. Technology: blah.]
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Product Review: Puff Pastry
When I was at Jenny's this summer, one of the many things we talked about was cooking and recipes. Jenny said one of the things she always had in her freezer was puff pastry.
What is this puff pastry thing?
She said it was handy when you had to make something to bring to a party.
Fast forward to Thursday night when Bob and I were putting our groceries into the trunk after a wild evening of food gathering at Safeway and as he closed the trunk he said: I didn't get anything for Joe's party. (Annual Day of the Dead Party - super fun time. They make this punch that's sort of like hot apple cider only with tequilla in it. Two drink limit recommended.)
Bringing party food has morphed into an awkward issue at our house, mostly because of bad communication. No one wants to hear on Friday morning when there's a party that evening, that someone assumed you were going to make something to bring. No one wants to come in the door on Thursday night after working all day and then sitting in traffic and then be standing there violently yanking the cork out of a $5 red wine blend from Trader Joes and be asked if she's planning on bringing something to a party the next day.
Can you blame a person for a head that swivels 360 degrees while flames shoot out of her eyes?
So often, rather than tempt the wrath of the dragon lady, someone else deals with party food by stopping at Safeway on his way to the outing and picking up one of their pre-made convenient party foods. This leaves the other someone feeling less put upon but somewhat embarrassed about the lameness of the party offering.
So when the topic came up on Thursday, I thought: Hey, this may be the time to try that puff pastry thing. But first, I needed to do some research.
On Friday, in computer lab, I plugged: puff pastry, appetizer and recipe into a search engine and what did I find?
puffpastry.com. Is this a great country or what?
After a quick scan of a few recipes, I learned that puff pastry is a Pepperidge Farm product that you thaw on the counter and then unfold and spread with a mix of several high-fat items, roll up, slice and bake for a delicious treat. The high-fat items can be mixed with high sugar items as well or folded into different shapes depending on the effect you're going for.
I chose the Artichoke and Spinach swirls because everybody loves artichoke and spinach dip. How could baking it into a crust not make a million times better?
It did. Bob loved it and the pan emptied right out. And this was a party with tons of fantastic food. Puff Pastry gets 10 stars.
When I was at Jenny's this summer, one of the many things we talked about was cooking and recipes. Jenny said one of the things she always had in her freezer was puff pastry.
What is this puff pastry thing?
She said it was handy when you had to make something to bring to a party.
Fast forward to Thursday night when Bob and I were putting our groceries into the trunk after a wild evening of food gathering at Safeway and as he closed the trunk he said: I didn't get anything for Joe's party. (Annual Day of the Dead Party - super fun time. They make this punch that's sort of like hot apple cider only with tequilla in it. Two drink limit recommended.)
Bringing party food has morphed into an awkward issue at our house, mostly because of bad communication. No one wants to hear on Friday morning when there's a party that evening, that someone assumed you were going to make something to bring. No one wants to come in the door on Thursday night after working all day and then sitting in traffic and then be standing there violently yanking the cork out of a $5 red wine blend from Trader Joes and be asked if she's planning on bringing something to a party the next day.
Can you blame a person for a head that swivels 360 degrees while flames shoot out of her eyes?
So often, rather than tempt the wrath of the dragon lady, someone else deals with party food by stopping at Safeway on his way to the outing and picking up one of their pre-made convenient party foods. This leaves the other someone feeling less put upon but somewhat embarrassed about the lameness of the party offering.
So when the topic came up on Thursday, I thought: Hey, this may be the time to try that puff pastry thing. But first, I needed to do some research.
On Friday, in computer lab, I plugged: puff pastry, appetizer and recipe into a search engine and what did I find?
puffpastry.com. Is this a great country or what?
After a quick scan of a few recipes, I learned that puff pastry is a Pepperidge Farm product that you thaw on the counter and then unfold and spread with a mix of several high-fat items, roll up, slice and bake for a delicious treat. The high-fat items can be mixed with high sugar items as well or folded into different shapes depending on the effect you're going for.
I chose the Artichoke and Spinach swirls because everybody loves artichoke and spinach dip. How could baking it into a crust not make a million times better?
It did. Bob loved it and the pan emptied right out. And this was a party with tons of fantastic food. Puff Pastry gets 10 stars.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Phones on a Plane
I did Illustrator class this morning and when I got home, still fired up with the spirit of Adobe, decided to try a fun and easy tutorial and let's just say that after an hour and a half it was neither fun nor easy. I got to the bottom of the tutorial and noticed that I was only on page 1 of 8 pages.
Enough tutorial for today.
Consumerist reports that by 2008 many airlines will be offering cellphone service to their customers.
Kill. Me. Now.
Two of my most detested sounds in the Universe are strangers talking on their cellphones and the sound of a TV unless it's a show that I'm watching. Airports are a wonderland for these two sounds. That horrible airport in Minneapolis has a huge TV hanging from the ceiling every 10 feet. If you must have them, why so many?
One of the things I love about airplanes (the other being that it's faster than walking because to be honest, I don't love airplanes) is that the phone doesn't ring. You can sit there with your book or iPod and you don't have to do anything else because there's nothing to do.
I admit, I can understand the appeal because some might consider it dead time, why not catch up with a friend or conduct a little business? But I can't even comprehend what it would be like to sit there listening to someone yammering away completely oblivious to how loud they are or how their conversation is intruding on someone else's space. It's not that easy to tune out people talking. I hate hearing it in the waiting area. My only defense is earplugs or a white noise track on my iPod.
Consumerist says it could cost as much as $3 a minute. Maybe no one will think it's worth it.
I did Illustrator class this morning and when I got home, still fired up with the spirit of Adobe, decided to try a fun and easy tutorial and let's just say that after an hour and a half it was neither fun nor easy. I got to the bottom of the tutorial and noticed that I was only on page 1 of 8 pages.
Enough tutorial for today.
Consumerist reports that by 2008 many airlines will be offering cellphone service to their customers.
Kill. Me. Now.
Two of my most detested sounds in the Universe are strangers talking on their cellphones and the sound of a TV unless it's a show that I'm watching. Airports are a wonderland for these two sounds. That horrible airport in Minneapolis has a huge TV hanging from the ceiling every 10 feet. If you must have them, why so many?
One of the things I love about airplanes (the other being that it's faster than walking because to be honest, I don't love airplanes) is that the phone doesn't ring. You can sit there with your book or iPod and you don't have to do anything else because there's nothing to do.
I admit, I can understand the appeal because some might consider it dead time, why not catch up with a friend or conduct a little business? But I can't even comprehend what it would be like to sit there listening to someone yammering away completely oblivious to how loud they are or how their conversation is intruding on someone else's space. It's not that easy to tune out people talking. I hate hearing it in the waiting area. My only defense is earplugs or a white noise track on my iPod.
Consumerist says it could cost as much as $3 a minute. Maybe no one will think it's worth it.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Right Into The Danger Zone
I think we need to start a movement to get Kenny Loggins back to writing movie soundtrack hits. He is responsible for three of the most spectacular cheezy movie hits ever: "I'm Alright" from Caddyshack, "Footloose" from duh, and probably the best movie pop hit ever: "Danger Zone" from Top Gun.
Don't you sometimes make a list in your head of artists you would love to hear cover that song? Can you imagine Bono singing:
Headin' into twilight
Spreadin' out her wings tonight
She got you jumpin' off the deck
And shovin' into overdrive
Highway to the Danger Zone
I'll take you
Right into the Danger Zone
Or Stevie Nicks belting out:
Revvin' up your engine
Listen to her howlin' roar
Metal under tension
Beggin' you to touch and go.
That would be awesome. Too bad the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame doesn't honor songs because I would make it my life's mission to get this song inducted. Imagine the jam session they could put together.
You could make a good argument that Bryan Adams is the king of movie soundtrack hits. (e.g. "Heaven" from "A Night in Heaven" {Does anyone remember that movie?} and "Everything I Do (I Do It For You)" from the Robin Hood movie with Kevin Costner.) (While I'm here, I encourage you to check out BA's bio. He's been up to a lot since the summer of '69. He also lives in England and supports a team I like, Chelsea.) But BA's hits are mostly variations of the same sappy love song and don't have the thematic range or rhythmic depth that Loggins covers in his superstar three.
When I went to UCSB Kenny lived in Santa Barbara or more likely, Montecito. I don't know if he lives there now as we've lost touch over the years, but I suspect he does because no one would ever leave there if they didn't have to. I worked at the Santa Barbara Zoo on the weekends and one Sunday afternoon Kenny showed up with his family. I didn't actually see him but I heard about it and immediately had to go find a telephone (this was way before the days of cellphones, kiddies) and call my friend Jenny, because she was a Kenny Loggins fanatic.
She brought fellow fan, Gina (who you can see in a Kenny Loggins special going on stage and kissing him before gently being removed by security) and they stalked him from afar, taking photos. Last night I ransacked my old photo albums thinking I had one of these photos which consist of some people in the distance standing around on the grass. Sadly, I couldn't find one.
According to Wikipedia, Kenny is still keeping busy including, and I'm so bummed that I just found out about this, participating in some sort of "Singing with Celebrities" TV show where he sang some of his hits with Lucy Lawless AKA Xena andsuper badass cylon lady. That would have been the best night of TV ever. Just the photos on Kenny's website make me feel a bit tingly.
If you see Kenny, tell him I'm thinking of him and hoping for more hits.
[Aside: The way the comments display is forked up and I'm going to have to wait until the weekend to apply my vast technical knowledge to sorting it out. No doubt a bottle of red wine will be involved.]
I think we need to start a movement to get Kenny Loggins back to writing movie soundtrack hits. He is responsible for three of the most spectacular cheezy movie hits ever: "I'm Alright" from Caddyshack, "Footloose" from duh, and probably the best movie pop hit ever: "Danger Zone" from Top Gun.
Don't you sometimes make a list in your head of artists you would love to hear cover that song? Can you imagine Bono singing:
Headin' into twilight
Spreadin' out her wings tonight
She got you jumpin' off the deck
And shovin' into overdrive
Highway to the Danger Zone
I'll take you
Right into the Danger Zone
Or Stevie Nicks belting out:
Revvin' up your engine
Listen to her howlin' roar
Metal under tension
Beggin' you to touch and go.
That would be awesome. Too bad the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame doesn't honor songs because I would make it my life's mission to get this song inducted. Imagine the jam session they could put together.
You could make a good argument that Bryan Adams is the king of movie soundtrack hits. (e.g. "Heaven" from "A Night in Heaven" {Does anyone remember that movie?} and "Everything I Do (I Do It For You)" from the Robin Hood movie with Kevin Costner.) (While I'm here, I encourage you to check out BA's bio. He's been up to a lot since the summer of '69. He also lives in England and supports a team I like, Chelsea.) But BA's hits are mostly variations of the same sappy love song and don't have the thematic range or rhythmic depth that Loggins covers in his superstar three.
When I went to UCSB Kenny lived in Santa Barbara or more likely, Montecito. I don't know if he lives there now as we've lost touch over the years, but I suspect he does because no one would ever leave there if they didn't have to. I worked at the Santa Barbara Zoo on the weekends and one Sunday afternoon Kenny showed up with his family. I didn't actually see him but I heard about it and immediately had to go find a telephone (this was way before the days of cellphones, kiddies) and call my friend Jenny, because she was a Kenny Loggins fanatic.
She brought fellow fan, Gina (who you can see in a Kenny Loggins special going on stage and kissing him before gently being removed by security) and they stalked him from afar, taking photos. Last night I ransacked my old photo albums thinking I had one of these photos which consist of some people in the distance standing around on the grass. Sadly, I couldn't find one.
According to Wikipedia, Kenny is still keeping busy including, and I'm so bummed that I just found out about this, participating in some sort of "Singing with Celebrities" TV show where he sang some of his hits with Lucy Lawless AKA Xena andsuper badass cylon lady. That would have been the best night of TV ever. Just the photos on Kenny's website make me feel a bit tingly.
If you see Kenny, tell him I'm thinking of him and hoping for more hits.
[Aside: The way the comments display is forked up and I'm going to have to wait until the weekend to apply my vast technical knowledge to sorting it out. No doubt a bottle of red wine will be involved.]
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Poor Dog
I bought Shadow a Halloween costume. Every woman I mentioned this to said, "How cute." Every man that heard about it said, "Poor dog." I guess Shadow, who was once a he but now suffers the indignities of being an it, wasn't excited about being Batman.
Halloween was uneventful at our house. I think the doorbell rang 10 times. Bob is the door answerer because he likes to do it and says dopey things like, "Ooh, what a scary ghost." For some reason I hate doing this. Yeah, opening the door to strangers who knock and want something. I don't like it. Especially around 8:00 there's always a group of teenagers who aren't remotely ashamed when you suggest that maybe they're a little old for this.
I distinctly remember my last year trick-or-treating, which was probably 8th grade, and we got a lot of grief for being too old. I'm trying to come up with some epic Halloween tale from my youth but I've got nothing. My only remark is that the candy was bigger. For real, not some idealistic memory like "When I was a girl the weather was better and people were nicer and unicorns frolicked on the back lawn." A mini candy bar was at least three good bites. Sweet tarts came with 4 nickel sized candies (possible exaggeration). Even the Tootsie rolls were bigger and I think there was more variety.
Okay, on the variety thing, I'm full of crap. I have no idea what kind of loot the kids are raking in. But from the person shopping for candy point of view: it all looks like chocolate to me.
In honor of NaBloPoMo, I've turned comments on. I think. I'm too lazy to read the directions and not sure how it works so I suspect I'll get nothing but porn spam. But at least I'm trying. If you're not a NaBloPoMo blogger you can also participate by leaving a comment a day.
I bought Shadow a Halloween costume. Every woman I mentioned this to said, "How cute." Every man that heard about it said, "Poor dog." I guess Shadow, who was once a he but now suffers the indignities of being an it, wasn't excited about being Batman.Halloween was uneventful at our house. I think the doorbell rang 10 times. Bob is the door answerer because he likes to do it and says dopey things like, "Ooh, what a scary ghost." For some reason I hate doing this. Yeah, opening the door to strangers who knock and want something. I don't like it. Especially around 8:00 there's always a group of teenagers who aren't remotely ashamed when you suggest that maybe they're a little old for this.
I distinctly remember my last year trick-or-treating, which was probably 8th grade, and we got a lot of grief for being too old. I'm trying to come up with some epic Halloween tale from my youth but I've got nothing. My only remark is that the candy was bigger. For real, not some idealistic memory like "When I was a girl the weather was better and people were nicer and unicorns frolicked on the back lawn." A mini candy bar was at least three good bites. Sweet tarts came with 4 nickel sized candies (possible exaggeration). Even the Tootsie rolls were bigger and I think there was more variety.
Okay, on the variety thing, I'm full of crap. I have no idea what kind of loot the kids are raking in. But from the person shopping for candy point of view: it all looks like chocolate to me.
In honor of NaBloPoMo, I've turned comments on. I think. I'm too lazy to read the directions and not sure how it works so I suspect I'll get nothing but porn spam. But at least I'm trying. If you're not a NaBloPoMo blogger you can also participate by leaving a comment a day.
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