Monday, June 30, 2008
Somebody Likes Me...or They Want to Sell Me Something
I was curious to see where a visitor to my blog came from, so I clicked on the link that brought someone here today. Below is where that link led me. I'm a skeptic, so I assume the "editor" who "rated" my blog wants to sell me something. Of course, if I'm proven wrong, I will blush and gingerly retract my skepticism.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Birthday Blast
Yesterday was my wife's birthday. I took her to a restaurant that we've never been to and, until recently, I'd not even read about, but which turned out to be an inspired choice. How I missed all the hullaballoo about Bijoux is beyond me.
I'm just glad we went. And I'm even happier that, upon learning where we were going, my wife had the presence of mind to pull out the $100 American Express gift card that had been moldering in a drawer so the sticker shock on my credit card was only half of what it could have been. It's pricey...well beyond my price comfort zone. We did not hold back, but we easily could have gone far beyond what we spent. Good grief, to think there are people who frequent these sorts of places on a regular basis! Here are our respective prixe fix menus:
My Wife's Meal
Appetizer of fresh crab on a tiny, crip shred of potato with cucumber shavings
Crispy Pork Belly, with fava bean "succotash," corn, and tomatoes
Tilefish (not quite sure how it was prepared, but it was good)
Long Island Duck Breast with foie gras fried rice, snap peas, spicy Asian jus
Combe cheese
My Meal
Appetizer of fresh crab on a tiny, crip shred of potato with cucumber shavings
East Coast Oysters, ponzu, tomato, black pepper mignonette
Scallops with pork cheek ravioli, tomato fondue, frisee
Maytag cheese, with potato bellini with corn, pancetta crisp, and caramelized red onion
There was more, of course. The obligatory "palate cleansers" between courses, the special "goodies" from the pastry chef, a half-bottle of 2006 Duckhorn sauvignon blanc.
Despite the snotty menu, the place was very comfortable and the staff were extraordinary. There was none of the snobbery that I associate with the typical "upscale" restaurant (which is one reason I like to avoid "upscale" restaurants). It was obvious that the young owners truly care about fine food and they avoid pretentions (except, I must say, in the descriptions of the food, which I found more than a bit pretentious...but that may be because of living a relatively sheltered life).
The most important part about the entire evening was that my wife really liked the place and felt that it was a special celebration for her birthday. She likes high-end restaurants much more than I do, I think, and she knows how I feel about most of them, so she appreciated that I sought the place out and made the reservations in spite of my normal misgivings. And, of course, I was blown away by the food and want to go back.
But, on my birthday, I want to go someplace I can wear shorts. Or, at least, jeans.
I'm just glad we went. And I'm even happier that, upon learning where we were going, my wife had the presence of mind to pull out the $100 American Express gift card that had been moldering in a drawer so the sticker shock on my credit card was only half of what it could have been. It's pricey...well beyond my price comfort zone. We did not hold back, but we easily could have gone far beyond what we spent. Good grief, to think there are people who frequent these sorts of places on a regular basis! Here are our respective prixe fix menus:
My Wife's Meal
Appetizer of fresh crab on a tiny, crip shred of potato with cucumber shavings
Crispy Pork Belly, with fava bean "succotash," corn, and tomatoes
Tilefish (not quite sure how it was prepared, but it was good)
Long Island Duck Breast with foie gras fried rice, snap peas, spicy Asian jus
Combe cheese
My Meal
Appetizer of fresh crab on a tiny, crip shred of potato with cucumber shavings
East Coast Oysters, ponzu, tomato, black pepper mignonette
Scallops with pork cheek ravioli, tomato fondue, frisee
Maytag cheese, with potato bellini with corn, pancetta crisp, and caramelized red onion
There was more, of course. The obligatory "palate cleansers" between courses, the special "goodies" from the pastry chef, a half-bottle of 2006 Duckhorn sauvignon blanc.
Despite the snotty menu, the place was very comfortable and the staff were extraordinary. There was none of the snobbery that I associate with the typical "upscale" restaurant (which is one reason I like to avoid "upscale" restaurants). It was obvious that the young owners truly care about fine food and they avoid pretentions (except, I must say, in the descriptions of the food, which I found more than a bit pretentious...but that may be because of living a relatively sheltered life).
The most important part about the entire evening was that my wife really liked the place and felt that it was a special celebration for her birthday. She likes high-end restaurants much more than I do, I think, and she knows how I feel about most of them, so she appreciated that I sought the place out and made the reservations in spite of my normal misgivings. And, of course, I was blown away by the food and want to go back.
But, on my birthday, I want to go someplace I can wear shorts. Or, at least, jeans.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
The Story of Steve
Please do not be alarmed. The following is a departure from my "normal" post (if there is any such thing). I just happened to be in the mood to fabricate a new reality and this is what came out.
All About Steve
I once had a friend, Steve, who developed a wonderful talent late in life. He learned to communicate with ants.
Steve would come by the house every so often and regale us with stories about his conversations with ants. He once explained to us why ants so often seem like they’re in a massively-confused state of methamphetamine-induced frenzy as they zig-zag from one place to the next, retrace their steps, almost crash into other ants, and then take off like rockets, just to do it all over again. I don’t remember that explanation, but it seemed perfectly rational to me.
Steve’s cross-species linguistic talent enabled him to die a rich and very happy man. It was just a few years after he started communicating with ants that he told us that ants mourned the loss of their loved ones just like people do. The difference, of course, is that ants’ facial expressions, tears, and cries of sorrow are almost impossible for us to perceive. So we did not know.
Well, Steve knew. And he decided he would do something to comfort them in their times of grief. He created an ant funeral home.
He took the limp little bodies (or crisp little bodies, as the case may have been) of dead ants, placed them in tiny coffins made of hollowed-out coffee beans, and arranged solemn services at which friends and relatives of the dear-departed ants would speak in hushed tones about how wonderfully well the dead ants treated their friends and families. Because there is really no appropriate place for ant coffins to be buried, they would burn them after the services, sending tiny little whiffs of coffee-scented smoke into the sky, carrying the remains of the little dead ants up into the air to be deposited a few feet or a few miles away, depending on the prevailing winds.
The families and friends of dead ants paid Steve handsomely for his highly dignified funeral services. They did not have money, of course, but they did have what amounted to armies of friends and relatives who could find miniscule little scraps of gold and platinum amongst all the tiny grains of sand and dirt they carried from place to place. They deposited those scraps of precious metal in a seldom-used room in Steve’s house.
In short order, Steve realized that he had hundreds and hundreds of pounds of precious metals in his store-room. As fast as he’d sell it (making quite a lot of money each time), the grateful ants would refill the room again. Steve used his money to build a coffee-bean-hollowing factory, along with a lovely house for himself, and to buy a weekly quart of Partida Elegante Extra Añejo Tequila. He also bought a fabulous river boat he named Felicity, where he entertained untold numbers of eccentric women.
Steve truly adored his ant friends and he grieved along with them when their family members and dear friends died. But he was so happy that he could relieve their pain, if for just a little while, that he devoted his attention to keeping the funeral pyres burning.
When Steve died just after his 97th birthday, his ant friends returned his devotion by fashioning a gigantic (in their eyes) coffin of whole, French-roaste coffee beans. After an extraordinary procession, during which billions of ants passed solemnly by his coffin, his best ant friends worked hard to hollow out a large number coffee beans, fill each of them with Partida Elegante Extra Añejo Tequila, drag them one by one to Steve’s coffin, and pour it over Steve. Finally, they lit the pyre and Steve’s happily drunken ashes drifted across the sky, dropping bit by bit onto the ground where his beloved ants toiled so tirelessly.
Steve had trained a number of his ant friends to run the coffee-bean-hollowing factory, so when he died his legacy lived on.
This is Steve’s story and he’s sticking to it.
All About Steve
I once had a friend, Steve, who developed a wonderful talent late in life. He learned to communicate with ants.
Steve would come by the house every so often and regale us with stories about his conversations with ants. He once explained to us why ants so often seem like they’re in a massively-confused state of methamphetamine-induced frenzy as they zig-zag from one place to the next, retrace their steps, almost crash into other ants, and then take off like rockets, just to do it all over again. I don’t remember that explanation, but it seemed perfectly rational to me.
Steve’s cross-species linguistic talent enabled him to die a rich and very happy man. It was just a few years after he started communicating with ants that he told us that ants mourned the loss of their loved ones just like people do. The difference, of course, is that ants’ facial expressions, tears, and cries of sorrow are almost impossible for us to perceive. So we did not know.
Well, Steve knew. And he decided he would do something to comfort them in their times of grief. He created an ant funeral home.
He took the limp little bodies (or crisp little bodies, as the case may have been) of dead ants, placed them in tiny coffins made of hollowed-out coffee beans, and arranged solemn services at which friends and relatives of the dear-departed ants would speak in hushed tones about how wonderfully well the dead ants treated their friends and families. Because there is really no appropriate place for ant coffins to be buried, they would burn them after the services, sending tiny little whiffs of coffee-scented smoke into the sky, carrying the remains of the little dead ants up into the air to be deposited a few feet or a few miles away, depending on the prevailing winds.
The families and friends of dead ants paid Steve handsomely for his highly dignified funeral services. They did not have money, of course, but they did have what amounted to armies of friends and relatives who could find miniscule little scraps of gold and platinum amongst all the tiny grains of sand and dirt they carried from place to place. They deposited those scraps of precious metal in a seldom-used room in Steve’s house.
In short order, Steve realized that he had hundreds and hundreds of pounds of precious metals in his store-room. As fast as he’d sell it (making quite a lot of money each time), the grateful ants would refill the room again. Steve used his money to build a coffee-bean-hollowing factory, along with a lovely house for himself, and to buy a weekly quart of Partida Elegante Extra Añejo Tequila. He also bought a fabulous river boat he named Felicity, where he entertained untold numbers of eccentric women.
Steve truly adored his ant friends and he grieved along with them when their family members and dear friends died. But he was so happy that he could relieve their pain, if for just a little while, that he devoted his attention to keeping the funeral pyres burning.
When Steve died just after his 97th birthday, his ant friends returned his devotion by fashioning a gigantic (in their eyes) coffin of whole, French-roaste coffee beans. After an extraordinary procession, during which billions of ants passed solemnly by his coffin, his best ant friends worked hard to hollow out a large number coffee beans, fill each of them with Partida Elegante Extra Añejo Tequila, drag them one by one to Steve’s coffin, and pour it over Steve. Finally, they lit the pyre and Steve’s happily drunken ashes drifted across the sky, dropping bit by bit onto the ground where his beloved ants toiled so tirelessly.
Steve had trained a number of his ant friends to run the coffee-bean-hollowing factory, so when he died his legacy lived on.
This is Steve’s story and he’s sticking to it.
The Great Clothing Shrinkage
Paralyzed Veterans of America (PVA) got lucky when they called my house the other night, asking if we have any old clothes they could take off our hands. I have an entre wardrobe of clothes that used to fit me, before the great clothes shrinkage occurred. I allowed as how I would be deighted if they would come by and relieve me of those unexpectedly small shirts and slacks and suits that I used to wear, back when they were larger.
I no longer wear suits. Haven't for years. But I did keep a couple that haven't been subjected to the great shrinkage, just in case I need to impress a would-be client.
Normally, we would have dropped off the clothes at a Goodwill station just up the street from us, but I'm guessing that PVA is experiencing a very big upsurge in people who need their help, so all those little-person's clothes will be put to good use, I expect.
I no longer wear suits. Haven't for years. But I did keep a couple that haven't been subjected to the great shrinkage, just in case I need to impress a would-be client.
Normally, we would have dropped off the clothes at a Goodwill station just up the street from us, but I'm guessing that PVA is experiencing a very big upsurge in people who need their help, so all those little-person's clothes will be put to good use, I expect.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Really, Really Bad Taste
Crap! Someone has actually done it...they've made a tequila that I simply cannot drink. My world is now topsy-turvy and my life is upside down. It's like magic happpened, but in a very, very bad way.
I took my wife to a very nice "California style" Mexican restaurant for lunch today. It's a fantastic place, with truly wonderul food, salsas that are out of this world, and an ambience that's sort of..."trendy upscale Mexican from California."
After eating our meals (she had an exceptional dish of camarones al mojo de ajo; I had carne de la diabla), the waitress asked if it was a special occasion (most people apparently ordered their more reasonably priced luncheon plates). We told her that tomorrow is my wife's birthday and she immediately volunteered that she'd like to bring her a tequila shot ("but it's fruity, not strong, you'll love it"). Neither my wife nor I wanted to insult her by saying "fruit-flavored tequila is a sin against man and nature," so we sat silently.
The waitress brought back a tall shot of tequila and a wedge of lime. My wife tasted it and twisted her mouth into what I can only describe as a contortion of agonizing pain. "This is HORRIBLE!" she exclaimed. I tasted it and, yes, it was a sickeningly sweet, foul-tasting mess. The wedge of lime helped eliminate the nasty, nasty flavor, but did not make it disappear. This stuff tasted like a pre-digested mixture of passion fruit and bad apples and corn syrup and mouthwash. Oh my god it was horrendous!
We have no idea what brand, nor what "flavor" this bad batch of pure evil was, but we both pledged then and there to avoid anything like it forevermore.
Tomorrow, I'll take my wife out for a veritable feast at a restaurant neither of us are familiar with. I hope our mouths can feel cleansed of that poisonous swill by then.
I took my wife to a very nice "California style" Mexican restaurant for lunch today. It's a fantastic place, with truly wonderul food, salsas that are out of this world, and an ambience that's sort of..."trendy upscale Mexican from California."
After eating our meals (she had an exceptional dish of camarones al mojo de ajo; I had carne de la diabla), the waitress asked if it was a special occasion (most people apparently ordered their more reasonably priced luncheon plates). We told her that tomorrow is my wife's birthday and she immediately volunteered that she'd like to bring her a tequila shot ("but it's fruity, not strong, you'll love it"). Neither my wife nor I wanted to insult her by saying "fruit-flavored tequila is a sin against man and nature," so we sat silently.
The waitress brought back a tall shot of tequila and a wedge of lime. My wife tasted it and twisted her mouth into what I can only describe as a contortion of agonizing pain. "This is HORRIBLE!" she exclaimed. I tasted it and, yes, it was a sickeningly sweet, foul-tasting mess. The wedge of lime helped eliminate the nasty, nasty flavor, but did not make it disappear. This stuff tasted like a pre-digested mixture of passion fruit and bad apples and corn syrup and mouthwash. Oh my god it was horrendous!
We have no idea what brand, nor what "flavor" this bad batch of pure evil was, but we both pledged then and there to avoid anything like it forevermore.
Tomorrow, I'll take my wife out for a veritable feast at a restaurant neither of us are familiar with. I hope our mouths can feel cleansed of that poisonous swill by then.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Sushi Star
My favorite wife had a stress echocardiogram done this morning; she has an odd malady of her heart (congestive heart failure) that has kept her cardiologists alert since the 1960s. After the test, she called me to ask if I wanted to join her for lunch. Well, of course!
So, we went to Sushi Star, a place that opened last November; we've never been there before. We got a lunch special (8 California rolls and 8 Spicy Salmon rolls), plus an order of unagi (fresh-water eel, cooked...4 pieces!) and an order of maguro (tuna) sashimi. My god, it was good! We both were astonished by how good it was and how inexpensive (a relative term when talking about sushi). We spent about $31 for the meal, including their iced green tea. That's an outageous price for lunch, I realize, but it was for my wife, for god's sake! And her birthday is on Saturday, so it's OK to do an early splurge.
We decided then and there that this place has instantly become our "special occasion" lunch joint. It's not too far from the office (and will be closer when we move at the end of August) and the prices won't break us unless we go more than once every two months.
I cannot get over how much I love sushi. I just wish it weren't so trendy and popular; I'd like the price to drop into the upper atmosphere at least.
So, we went to Sushi Star, a place that opened last November; we've never been there before. We got a lunch special (8 California rolls and 8 Spicy Salmon rolls), plus an order of unagi (fresh-water eel, cooked...4 pieces!) and an order of maguro (tuna) sashimi. My god, it was good! We both were astonished by how good it was and how inexpensive (a relative term when talking about sushi). We spent about $31 for the meal, including their iced green tea. That's an outageous price for lunch, I realize, but it was for my wife, for god's sake! And her birthday is on Saturday, so it's OK to do an early splurge.
We decided then and there that this place has instantly become our "special occasion" lunch joint. It's not too far from the office (and will be closer when we move at the end of August) and the prices won't break us unless we go more than once every two months.
I cannot get over how much I love sushi. I just wish it weren't so trendy and popular; I'd like the price to drop into the upper atmosphere at least.
I See Through the Window Pain
As we were leaving our house yesterday morning, I noticed that one of the large windows on the side of the house seemed to have a "frost" of water vapor across the very large pane of glass at the bottom. This is one of the many windows that we had replaced a year or two ago to the tune of $10,000 or thereabouts.
Today, after work, I took a close look at it. Sure enough, it's a fog between the double panes. Damn! Now, I'll have to go looking for the guy who sold and installed the windows. I hope he's easy to deal with and fair. I'm not in the mood for a hassle. It would prove to be a very bad day for the guy if he decided not to make good on the window. I wish him well. I really do.
Today, after work, I took a close look at it. Sure enough, it's a fog between the double panes. Damn! Now, I'll have to go looking for the guy who sold and installed the windows. I hope he's easy to deal with and fair. I'm not in the mood for a hassle. It would prove to be a very bad day for the guy if he decided not to make good on the window. I wish him well. I really do.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Witness to Safety
Not being a parent, I've not had the experience of watching someone close to me mature in front of my eyes. But during the past year, I've had an experience that I suspect is a bit like it. I have been watching a young woman who works for us mature in some surprising ways, or so I've been thinking.
This young woman is the unmarried mother of a mixed-race child. She has been very private since the very first days of going to work for us. Initially, she struck me as a very bright, but rather uneducated and "country<" young woman who was not at all trusting of other people. She has been quite the introvert during much of the time she has worked for us.
But her behavior has changed during the course of her employment. Early on, when she accompanied me to client events to handle registration, she was very reserved, quiet, and aloof. A friend of hers, a young woman about her age, would visit her but her visits were after hours and our employee made no effors to introduce us. I was fairly she was gay, but I didn't say a thing about it. I expected, though, that if she was, she would have been comfortable telling me, because of some comments I always make during employmenet interviews.
I tell everyone I interview that I have very liberal views and that we are extremely welcoming of diversity of all kinds. I warn interviewees that if they have any prejudices against people because of race, sexual orientation, sex, etc., etc., they would not be comfortable working for us and we would not want them on our staff.
Recently, she accepted an invitation to have dinner with my wife and me and she brought along her partner. While nothing was ever said about their relationship, I got the impression that our employee was beginning to feel more at ease with us. During the past few weeks, I've noticed that she has become much more open, more demonstrative, and she laughs much more easily.
As I started writing this, I thought I was going to write about witnessing her becoming more mature. But the more I think about it, I think what I'm witnessing is someone who is simply feeling safer in her environment. And while that's very good news, it makes me so sad that she must have felt a need to be secretive because of the prevailing attitude in this part of the country.
This young woman is the unmarried mother of a mixed-race child. She has been very private since the very first days of going to work for us. Initially, she struck me as a very bright, but rather uneducated and "country<" young woman who was not at all trusting of other people. She has been quite the introvert during much of the time she has worked for us.
But her behavior has changed during the course of her employment. Early on, when she accompanied me to client events to handle registration, she was very reserved, quiet, and aloof. A friend of hers, a young woman about her age, would visit her but her visits were after hours and our employee made no effors to introduce us. I was fairly she was gay, but I didn't say a thing about it. I expected, though, that if she was, she would have been comfortable telling me, because of some comments I always make during employmenet interviews.
I tell everyone I interview that I have very liberal views and that we are extremely welcoming of diversity of all kinds. I warn interviewees that if they have any prejudices against people because of race, sexual orientation, sex, etc., etc., they would not be comfortable working for us and we would not want them on our staff.
Recently, she accepted an invitation to have dinner with my wife and me and she brought along her partner. While nothing was ever said about their relationship, I got the impression that our employee was beginning to feel more at ease with us. During the past few weeks, I've noticed that she has become much more open, more demonstrative, and she laughs much more easily.
As I started writing this, I thought I was going to write about witnessing her becoming more mature. But the more I think about it, I think what I'm witnessing is someone who is simply feeling safer in her environment. And while that's very good news, it makes me so sad that she must have felt a need to be secretive because of the prevailing attitude in this part of the country.
Monday, June 23, 2008
A Nicely Welded Insurance Overture
Good news at the office today. Our new PEO's insurance options will allow us to pay less for insurance per employee, while simultaneously giving them better coverage than they had AND they will no longer have to make a contribution toward their own insurance! Talk about win-win! That's a benefit of leaving Gevity.
I welded a nice frame yesterday, 4 feet by 2 feet, made of 3/4 inch square tubing that I cut using a chop saw, making perfect 45 degree angles for the corner joints. Then, I cut and welded together the pieces to make an octagon. I learned (thugh admittedly I should have already known) that the cutting angles for the pieces of the octagon are 22.5 degrees each. Next week, I'll probably finish welding seams, I'll create a couple of more shapes to complement the octagon, and will assemble the pieces into a trellis of sorts which I'll attach to our fence after painting or otherwise finishing it.
I won't try to write much about my bizarre dream last night, except to say that somehow, in one's dreams, one can be in a crowded Chinese market, with no English spoken by anyone, and just simply KNOW that one is in New York. And one can attempt to find a NY subway train near the Chinese market, only to have a very attractive but utterly mute American woman make some very suggestive overtures in an attempt to keep one's mind off the train.
I welded a nice frame yesterday, 4 feet by 2 feet, made of 3/4 inch square tubing that I cut using a chop saw, making perfect 45 degree angles for the corner joints. Then, I cut and welded together the pieces to make an octagon. I learned (thugh admittedly I should have already known) that the cutting angles for the pieces of the octagon are 22.5 degrees each. Next week, I'll probably finish welding seams, I'll create a couple of more shapes to complement the octagon, and will assemble the pieces into a trellis of sorts which I'll attach to our fence after painting or otherwise finishing it.
I won't try to write much about my bizarre dream last night, except to say that somehow, in one's dreams, one can be in a crowded Chinese market, with no English spoken by anyone, and just simply KNOW that one is in New York. And one can attempt to find a NY subway train near the Chinese market, only to have a very attractive but utterly mute American woman make some very suggestive overtures in an attempt to keep one's mind off the train.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Food & Metal
I woke up just before 6:00 am today. Just as I was starting to make my coffee, I heard my wife's voice. "Do you want to go out for breakfast?" Yes! Of course! Why wouldn't I?! My wife wasn't able to sleep much last night, she said, so she was wide awake.
So, we went to Nikki's, an old-style cafe just a mile or so from the house. We had breakfast with other early-risers, including a couple of motorcyclists who were already there when we arrived. Their two big sleek Harley's were parked a long way from the door, no doubt to keep them safe from drivers who park as close to the door as possible. We had a nice breakfast got back home just a few minutes ago. My wife announced she was going to try to get some sleep, so she went into the bedroom.
As for me, I've got to go find a metal/welding supply store downtown so I can get my supplies for my welding "project." Tomorrow's the day I start on it.
So, we went to Nikki's, an old-style cafe just a mile or so from the house. We had breakfast with other early-risers, including a couple of motorcyclists who were already there when we arrived. Their two big sleek Harley's were parked a long way from the door, no doubt to keep them safe from drivers who park as close to the door as possible. We had a nice breakfast got back home just a few minutes ago. My wife announced she was going to try to get some sleep, so she went into the bedroom.
As for me, I've got to go find a metal/welding supply store downtown so I can get my supplies for my welding "project." Tomorrow's the day I start on it.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Mild Message
My $6,000 increase in annual expenses for our PEO will be offset by our $6,000 reduction in rent for our new office lease! The whippersnapper broker, whose real estate brokering and negotiating skills I was beginning to seriously doubt, came through today. While I don't have a contract in hand, if things turn out the way the broker says, the landlords of our new space agreed to dropping the rental rate by $1 per square foot per year, plus they confirmed that two spaces we thought were not in the quote were, indeed, included. So, I'm feeling happy. My financial ruin has been delayed, if only by a little.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Memories: Few and Fuzzy
My memories of my childhood and even later, some deep into adulthood, are few and fuzzy. There are so few that are sharp, fewer still that I can be sure are accurate. I don't know whether any of the following are truly sharp or accurate. But they are in my head somewhere, insisting on spilling onto the page.
Ice Cream
I remember helping make ice cream in the back yard one day, using a hand-crank freezer. Our preacher (a young Methodist minister) was visiting [this was when I was very young and before I decided that church was a load of ya-ya-goop). Being the five or six year old that I was, I was bouncing off the walls and climbing trees. The preacher decided it would be fun to tickle me as I was hanging upside down from a large limb. And when he did that, I fell. It couldn't have been too bad, but vaguely remember crying and knowing the preacher was very concerned about whether he'd caused me to break something. I believe his last name was Lewis. It's odd what the memory drags out of the mud sometimes.
Cut Lip
Another memory is from my young absurdhood, when I was a bad-ass high schooler. Some friends and I went out for a weekend bash of beer-drinking. I got hammered on lager beer and somehow ended up getting into a fist-fight with a friend while the group of five or six of us were getting gas. He belted me in the face and I bled profusely all over my shirt. We went to the home of one of our friends, where a girfriend's mother nursed my face but couldn't remove the blood from my shirt. I went home later and claimed I had tripped over a speaker wire at a drive-in movie. My mother accepted it, but I knew she knew I was lying.
The Bully
Yet another time my mother didn't buy my innocence for a minute when a kid accused me, via his father, of beating him up. The kid couldn't walk and I was accused of being the reason. The fact was that I had bullied the little bastard, but had not hurt his foot...he had stepped on a nail. But he was getting back at me for being a purebred prick. And so the kid's father spoke to my mother on the phone and threatened to sue my parents. My mom refused to let me go to the Buccaneer Days parade and carnival because she believed I had beat the kid up. I deserved the treatment, despite the fact that it was meted out for invalid reasons. I was the sort of kid that, today, I would forcefully euthanise if given the opportunity to escape prosecution.
Gay Friend
My first exposure to a gay person (to my knowledge) was while I was in high school when I developed a friendship with a guy, probably 8-10 years older than I, who taught at the local college. He recognized that I was heterosexual, so there was never anything between us except friendship. I, of course, had no idea for at least a year or two that he was gay. He was an Hispanic guy whose primary interest was in English literature (he taught English and literature). It was probably because of my friendship with him that I developed such an affinity for literature (that, and the fact that my mother was an English teacher). And it was probably my friendship with him that enabled me to escape the normal homophobia of life in Corpus Christi in the early 1970s. For reasons I don't still don't understand, over the years he stopped returning my phone calls; we haven't spoken in 20 years or more. He really did understand I was not gay and I am pretty sure he understood we were simply friends.
Diabetic Episode
My mother was diabetic. One time, when I was in elementary or the very early years of junior high school, not long after visiting our family doctor and being given a prescription for a pill-form drug called diabenese, she awoke one morning unable to move. She simply made noises, loud noises. She was conscious, but could not move or communicate. My father called the doctor, who had an ambulance sent to the house. We had a dog named Buck who went apeshit as the ambulance attendants moved my mother on a gurney to the ambulance to take her to the hospital. It scared the shit out of me, both her being taken to the hospital and the dog trying to kill the ambulance attendants. I had to go to school that day, even though my mother was taken to the hospital. I was pissed and scared and so utterly in the dark about what was happening. That was a very, very scary day. The problem was that the doctor had prescribed a dose that was too much.
Mastectomy
On the morning that my wife had her mastectomy folloowing the diagnosis of breast cancer, I completely fell apart. I was not the stoic husband. When the doctor came out say the surgery was successful...but...I fell apart. He said the cancer appeared to have spread to the lymph nodes and she would need to undergo extensive chemo-therapy if she was to have a chance of survival. I was just unable to keep any semblance of composure. I came apart. My sister-in-law was with me and one of my sisters was easily available by phone and, between the two of them, they kept me from falling into an abyss from which there would have been no escape. So many fragments of my memories surrounding this awful experience are too fuzzy to recall, but that after-surgery moment is so clear it takes my breath away whenever I think o it.
Why do these memories flood back somtimes? I don't know. They just do.
Ice Cream
I remember helping make ice cream in the back yard one day, using a hand-crank freezer. Our preacher (a young Methodist minister) was visiting [this was when I was very young and before I decided that church was a load of ya-ya-goop). Being the five or six year old that I was, I was bouncing off the walls and climbing trees. The preacher decided it would be fun to tickle me as I was hanging upside down from a large limb. And when he did that, I fell. It couldn't have been too bad, but vaguely remember crying and knowing the preacher was very concerned about whether he'd caused me to break something. I believe his last name was Lewis. It's odd what the memory drags out of the mud sometimes.
Cut Lip
Another memory is from my young absurdhood, when I was a bad-ass high schooler. Some friends and I went out for a weekend bash of beer-drinking. I got hammered on lager beer and somehow ended up getting into a fist-fight with a friend while the group of five or six of us were getting gas. He belted me in the face and I bled profusely all over my shirt. We went to the home of one of our friends, where a girfriend's mother nursed my face but couldn't remove the blood from my shirt. I went home later and claimed I had tripped over a speaker wire at a drive-in movie. My mother accepted it, but I knew she knew I was lying.
The Bully
Yet another time my mother didn't buy my innocence for a minute when a kid accused me, via his father, of beating him up. The kid couldn't walk and I was accused of being the reason. The fact was that I had bullied the little bastard, but had not hurt his foot...he had stepped on a nail. But he was getting back at me for being a purebred prick. And so the kid's father spoke to my mother on the phone and threatened to sue my parents. My mom refused to let me go to the Buccaneer Days parade and carnival because she believed I had beat the kid up. I deserved the treatment, despite the fact that it was meted out for invalid reasons. I was the sort of kid that, today, I would forcefully euthanise if given the opportunity to escape prosecution.
Gay Friend
My first exposure to a gay person (to my knowledge) was while I was in high school when I developed a friendship with a guy, probably 8-10 years older than I, who taught at the local college. He recognized that I was heterosexual, so there was never anything between us except friendship. I, of course, had no idea for at least a year or two that he was gay. He was an Hispanic guy whose primary interest was in English literature (he taught English and literature). It was probably because of my friendship with him that I developed such an affinity for literature (that, and the fact that my mother was an English teacher). And it was probably my friendship with him that enabled me to escape the normal homophobia of life in Corpus Christi in the early 1970s. For reasons I don't still don't understand, over the years he stopped returning my phone calls; we haven't spoken in 20 years or more. He really did understand I was not gay and I am pretty sure he understood we were simply friends.
Diabetic Episode
My mother was diabetic. One time, when I was in elementary or the very early years of junior high school, not long after visiting our family doctor and being given a prescription for a pill-form drug called diabenese, she awoke one morning unable to move. She simply made noises, loud noises. She was conscious, but could not move or communicate. My father called the doctor, who had an ambulance sent to the house. We had a dog named Buck who went apeshit as the ambulance attendants moved my mother on a gurney to the ambulance to take her to the hospital. It scared the shit out of me, both her being taken to the hospital and the dog trying to kill the ambulance attendants. I had to go to school that day, even though my mother was taken to the hospital. I was pissed and scared and so utterly in the dark about what was happening. That was a very, very scary day. The problem was that the doctor had prescribed a dose that was too much.
Mastectomy
On the morning that my wife had her mastectomy folloowing the diagnosis of breast cancer, I completely fell apart. I was not the stoic husband. When the doctor came out say the surgery was successful...but...I fell apart. He said the cancer appeared to have spread to the lymph nodes and she would need to undergo extensive chemo-therapy if she was to have a chance of survival. I was just unable to keep any semblance of composure. I came apart. My sister-in-law was with me and one of my sisters was easily available by phone and, between the two of them, they kept me from falling into an abyss from which there would have been no escape. So many fragments of my memories surrounding this awful experience are too fuzzy to recall, but that after-surgery moment is so clear it takes my breath away whenever I think o it.
Why do these memories flood back somtimes? I don't know. They just do.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
At This Very Moment
One more troublesome issue out of the way: I signed a contract today with a professional employer organization (PEO) to replace the agreement I had with Gevity (which I hope goes out of business after its senior executives are imprisoned). It's costing us more than $6,000 per year more than the contract we had, but at least we'll have health insurance. With this $6,000 hike, coupled with the base line expense and the costs of health insurance, our PEO/insurance expenses for the next twelve months will be somewhere in the neighborhood of $36,000.
Another troublesome issues still pending: We still haven't signed a lease contract on new office space. We don't have a "final" offer on space yet from any of the final three or four spaces the commercial real estate broker has been looking. It's nerve-wracking, knowing that we have to be out of our current space August 31 (or risk paying double our current lease payment).
Welding Update: I learned (just enough to be dangerous) to use the plasma metal cutter in my welding class on Sunday. So, now I've experienced the stick welder, oxygen-acetylene torch, MIG welder, bench grinder, metal chop-saw, and other tools and odds & ends I might encounter in the metal-working shop. Next Sunday, I begin work on my "class project," which I have almost decided will be a fairly simple metal fence arbor. If I had the money and the time, I could have a wonderful time working with metal! It's fabulous!
The "Authorities" Suck: I cannot go into detail for a variety of reasons, but suffice it to say that I have very strong negative feelings about: 1) the local police; 2) the State Attorney General's office; 3) the Federal Bureau of Investigation; 4) the Secret Service; 5) the Federal Trade Commission; and 6) Federal Express. Every one of them is, in my opinion, peopled by spineless people who are obsessed with keeping as far away as possible from potential litigation, regardless of the fact that their failure to act is harming many, many people. If you think any of the "law enforcement agencies" is really concerned about protecting the population, you'd better wake up and smell the coffee. Many of the people who work for them (I'd go so far as to say most) don't give a shit about anything but a paycheck. If you see a scam taking place, don't call the authorities. Get an axe handle and claim self-defense.
That's All I Have to Say at this Very Moment
Another troublesome issues still pending: We still haven't signed a lease contract on new office space. We don't have a "final" offer on space yet from any of the final three or four spaces the commercial real estate broker has been looking. It's nerve-wracking, knowing that we have to be out of our current space August 31 (or risk paying double our current lease payment).
Welding Update: I learned (just enough to be dangerous) to use the plasma metal cutter in my welding class on Sunday. So, now I've experienced the stick welder, oxygen-acetylene torch, MIG welder, bench grinder, metal chop-saw, and other tools and odds & ends I might encounter in the metal-working shop. Next Sunday, I begin work on my "class project," which I have almost decided will be a fairly simple metal fence arbor. If I had the money and the time, I could have a wonderful time working with metal! It's fabulous!
The "Authorities" Suck: I cannot go into detail for a variety of reasons, but suffice it to say that I have very strong negative feelings about: 1) the local police; 2) the State Attorney General's office; 3) the Federal Bureau of Investigation; 4) the Secret Service; 5) the Federal Trade Commission; and 6) Federal Express. Every one of them is, in my opinion, peopled by spineless people who are obsessed with keeping as far away as possible from potential litigation, regardless of the fact that their failure to act is harming many, many people. If you think any of the "law enforcement agencies" is really concerned about protecting the population, you'd better wake up and smell the coffee. Many of the people who work for them (I'd go so far as to say most) don't give a shit about anything but a paycheck. If you see a scam taking place, don't call the authorities. Get an axe handle and claim self-defense.
That's All I Have to Say at this Very Moment
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Insanity in Chile and in My Room
Every once in a while I get the shit kicked out of me, awakening me to the fact that I live in an insular world, protected from the realities of life on this viscious and hard little planet.
Here's some information from the Santiago Times that blows my mind:
SHARP PRICE INCREASE FOR SANTIAGO OFFICE SPACE
Tuesday, 17 June 2008
The price of office space in Santiago rose 51.1 percent in the past year, according to a report released on Monday by real estate giant CB Richard Ellis (CBRE). This increase was the highest in all Latin America.
CBRE's report is published twice a year and analyzes the trends in commercial rentals. According to the global survey, office space in Santiago has risen to an annual price of US$420 per square meter (3.28 square feet).
Offices in Rio de Janeiro continue to be the most expensive in Latin America at US$803 per square meter. Prices in Sao Paulo increased by 44 percent, reaching US$769 per square meter. Buenos Aires remains the most economical at US$53 per square meter.
Office space in Latin American remains significantly cheaper when compared to the rest of the world. The most expensive office rentals can be found in London’s West End for a staggering US$3,224 per square meter followed by Moscow for US$2,501.
Despite a precise explanation for the sharp rise in the report, some analysts cite new office buildings as the source of the “Chilean phenomenon.” The new office spaces simply did not satisfy the existing level of demand. “Until now, Latin America had managed to escape the effects of the sub prime crisis and the subsequent loss of economic optimism,” the report stated.
Even with the sharp increase of prices across the region, CBRE adds that there is no reason to worry. Additional office constructions should yield a positive economic turnout for Latin America and, more specifically, Chile in the remaining quarters of 2008.
In an effort to curb inflation, the Central Bank of Chile raised key interest rates to 6.75 percent last week, the highest in nine years. The move could further influence CBRE’s next report on commercial rentals.
Can you fucking believe it? That's like $128 per square foot per year! I'm going apeshit over paying $12 per foot! Businesses in Chile are paying ten times what I'm prepared to pay! That's absolutely absurd! There is no legitimate business in the world that would find $128 per square foot to be a reasonable price.
And if that's not enough to make you cough up blood, how's this?
AVOCADO PRICES FALL BY 12 PERCENT
Tuesday, 17 June 2008
A recent Ministry of Agriculture survey showed an average of 12 percent decline in avocado prices last week, after two weeks of sustained price increases.
Avocado has been one of the agricultural products most affected by price inflation, with recent Consumer Price Index (CPI) showing a 151 percent increase since last year (ST, June 6).
The Ministry’s weekly survey looks at the prices of the 20 most-consumed fruits and vegetables in supermarkets and street markets in the Santiago area.
According to the survey, avocado prices weren’t the only ones to decline last week. In supermarkets, the price of oranges and lemons each fell by 10 percent, while in street markets the biggest declines were in zucchini and kiwi, which dropped 38 and 16 percent, respectively.
In supermarkets, the highest price rises were seen in onions (21 percent), sweet peppers (16 percent) and kiwis (15 percent). In street markets, sweet peppers jumped by 33 percent, while green beans and bananas increased by 29 and 22 percent, respectively.
Can you believe week-to-week price variances of 21 percent in onions? Or 33 percent variances in sweet peppers? My god, if I had to cope with those prices and those price changes, I would most certainly go off the deep end, spraying large groups of unsuspecting and undeserving people with machine gun fire as I laughed wildly about the unfairness of the color blue!
Here's some information from the Santiago Times that blows my mind:
SHARP PRICE INCREASE FOR SANTIAGO OFFICE SPACE
Tuesday, 17 June 2008
The price of office space in Santiago rose 51.1 percent in the past year, according to a report released on Monday by real estate giant CB Richard Ellis (CBRE). This increase was the highest in all Latin America.
CBRE's report is published twice a year and analyzes the trends in commercial rentals. According to the global survey, office space in Santiago has risen to an annual price of US$420 per square meter (3.28 square feet).
Offices in Rio de Janeiro continue to be the most expensive in Latin America at US$803 per square meter. Prices in Sao Paulo increased by 44 percent, reaching US$769 per square meter. Buenos Aires remains the most economical at US$53 per square meter.
Office space in Latin American remains significantly cheaper when compared to the rest of the world. The most expensive office rentals can be found in London’s West End for a staggering US$3,224 per square meter followed by Moscow for US$2,501.
Despite a precise explanation for the sharp rise in the report, some analysts cite new office buildings as the source of the “Chilean phenomenon.” The new office spaces simply did not satisfy the existing level of demand. “Until now, Latin America had managed to escape the effects of the sub prime crisis and the subsequent loss of economic optimism,” the report stated.
Even with the sharp increase of prices across the region, CBRE adds that there is no reason to worry. Additional office constructions should yield a positive economic turnout for Latin America and, more specifically, Chile in the remaining quarters of 2008.
In an effort to curb inflation, the Central Bank of Chile raised key interest rates to 6.75 percent last week, the highest in nine years. The move could further influence CBRE’s next report on commercial rentals.
Can you fucking believe it? That's like $128 per square foot per year! I'm going apeshit over paying $12 per foot! Businesses in Chile are paying ten times what I'm prepared to pay! That's absolutely absurd! There is no legitimate business in the world that would find $128 per square foot to be a reasonable price.
And if that's not enough to make you cough up blood, how's this?
AVOCADO PRICES FALL BY 12 PERCENT
Tuesday, 17 June 2008
A recent Ministry of Agriculture survey showed an average of 12 percent decline in avocado prices last week, after two weeks of sustained price increases.
Avocado has been one of the agricultural products most affected by price inflation, with recent Consumer Price Index (CPI) showing a 151 percent increase since last year (ST, June 6).
The Ministry’s weekly survey looks at the prices of the 20 most-consumed fruits and vegetables in supermarkets and street markets in the Santiago area.
According to the survey, avocado prices weren’t the only ones to decline last week. In supermarkets, the price of oranges and lemons each fell by 10 percent, while in street markets the biggest declines were in zucchini and kiwi, which dropped 38 and 16 percent, respectively.
In supermarkets, the highest price rises were seen in onions (21 percent), sweet peppers (16 percent) and kiwis (15 percent). In street markets, sweet peppers jumped by 33 percent, while green beans and bananas increased by 29 and 22 percent, respectively.
Can you believe week-to-week price variances of 21 percent in onions? Or 33 percent variances in sweet peppers? My god, if I had to cope with those prices and those price changes, I would most certainly go off the deep end, spraying large groups of unsuspecting and undeserving people with machine gun fire as I laughed wildly about the unfairness of the color blue!
There's Bad News and There's Good News
Nicole's comments about eggs has had me thinking.
Of course I know that any mass-production of animal foodstuff is apt to occur in conditions that are not favorable to the animal. But I've not seen it, so I've allowed myself to ignore reality in favor of happy tastebuds. My favorite spouse is not as sensitive about such things as I am, so I have to really push to get her to accept things like living at least a half-life of vegetarianism. She's hard to convince that eggs deserve much thought.
I made a phone call yesterday to a long-ago employee (20 years or more) who now lives in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I used to send her a birthday card or at least an e-card every January 2 (her birthday...of course), but I managed to lose her email address a few years ago and just got lazy and stopped. The current floods in Iowa and environs, especially Cedar Rapids, got me thinking about her, so I looked up her number and called. She and her husband are find, I'm glad to report, but they're stunned by the devastation all around them. Hundreds and hundreds of blocks of their city are under water. The Iowa floods are reported to be the worst in 500 years. What a catastrophe, caused in large part I'm sure by humankind's rape of the planet.
Now the good news. I haven't killed myself or anyone else (the latter is much more likely, given my moods of late). OK. That's enough for now.
Of course I know that any mass-production of animal foodstuff is apt to occur in conditions that are not favorable to the animal. But I've not seen it, so I've allowed myself to ignore reality in favor of happy tastebuds. My favorite spouse is not as sensitive about such things as I am, so I have to really push to get her to accept things like living at least a half-life of vegetarianism. She's hard to convince that eggs deserve much thought.
I made a phone call yesterday to a long-ago employee (20 years or more) who now lives in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I used to send her a birthday card or at least an e-card every January 2 (her birthday...of course), but I managed to lose her email address a few years ago and just got lazy and stopped. The current floods in Iowa and environs, especially Cedar Rapids, got me thinking about her, so I looked up her number and called. She and her husband are find, I'm glad to report, but they're stunned by the devastation all around them. Hundreds and hundreds of blocks of their city are under water. The Iowa floods are reported to be the worst in 500 years. What a catastrophe, caused in large part I'm sure by humankind's rape of the planet.
Now the good news. I haven't killed myself or anyone else (the latter is much more likely, given my moods of late). OK. That's enough for now.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Leon Redbone
I have always liked Leon Redbone, from the first time I heard him. My wife and I saw him not long after we got married. He was playing in a very small club in Houston, Texas and I bet there were no more than 30 or 40 people in the audience...but my memory may be playing tricks on me. I'm not sure what got me thinking about his music this afternoon, but when I listened to the track, "I Wanna be Seduced," I knew I had to put some tracks on my blog today.
There are Egg Poachers in My Neighborhood
This morning, I started out having a hankering for poached eggs. That happens occasionally and it's best to address the craving early-on. Otherwise, I can be cranky all day. My wife has been buying Eggland's Best eggs. The chickens seem to have been bred for their ability to create eggs that have the letters "EB" appear to be stamped on one end. Aren't those chickens clever? Or is it the farmers who raise them? Maybe, though, the chickens have been trained to use ink-jet printers which have been installed in their coops. It doesn't matter, I supposed. Back to the story at hand. Poaching eggs in the microwave isn't as satisfying as using a steam-powered egg-poacher, but it's much quicker and far easier to clean up. And, when my wife opts not to have any eggs, the two-egg poacher like this one works very well. I always like my poached eggs in multiples of two and this little microwave poacher does a decent job.
I prefer, though, to poach eggs in a steam-based poacher. We have one that is just fine for poaching four eggs (though the design leaves a bit to be desired), but whenever we have guests (which is rare, I'll admit) the four-egg poacher isn't quite adequate. But I found a really nice-looking six-egg poacher that looks like it would be perfect! However, since I think spending $30+ on an egg poacher is something one should do no more than once in a lifetime (which I believe with have, with our nice four-egg poacher), I'm not going to do it. Instead, I'll suffer through with our four-egg steamer and our two-egg nuker, should we have a guest. If we have more than one guest, I'll just work twice as fast.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
A Satur Day
Today was a day of errands and sloth. First, an oil and filter change, plus a tire rotation, for the Bastard, my 1997 Toyota Avalon.
I've given the beast more care and money than he deserves over the 11-years-and-counting that I've had him so far. But, in all honesty, he's treated me well, too. No massive breakdowns on the highway, no general sense of unreliability. But that Bastard has cost me lots to keep it in tip-top shape! But, since I paid for my previous car about four years before I bought the Bastard new, for cash, I've not had car payments (on my personal car) for fifteen years!
After caring for the car, it was off to do some short-sleeve-shirt-shopping at J.C. Penny, which I typically loathe because I become upset at the prices that I consider highway robbery. But I was surprised by massive discounts, allowing me to buy four shirts for only $51. The down-side, of course, is that the shirts were made in Bangadesh (I think) and the people who made them are probably living in abject poverty, courtesy of my willingness to buy sweat-shop shirts. Realistically, though, I don't really know what options I have. Seems everything is made someplace else. Signs are everywhere of the well-deserved decline of the American empire.
Thereafter, we stopped for lunch at a place called La Hechizera. The staff speaks very little English, I'm reticent to try my Spanish, and the menu board is printed in such tiny type I couldn't read it. But, we we managed to order some tortas that were very flavorful. My wife had one that had ham, lots of cheese, avaocados, and various other "stuff," but it was too large and too greasy to eat easily. I had a torta that was a mix of pork (al pastor) and chorizo, also with loads of cheese, avocados, jalapenos, and various other stuff. Good! Just a few minutes ago, I read a review of the place on chowhound that made me want to go back and try some other things...and try my Spanish.
When we got home, not long after 1:00 pm, my wife allowed as how she'd like to take a nap. While she napped, I showered and shaved so as to be presentable for the remainder of the day. And then I took a nap (which I do rarely, but more frequently now than in the past). I woke after 5:30!
It wasn't long after that my wife inquired as to what we should do about dinner. A short conversation resulted in an agreement that New York strip, grilled outside, would be just right. When the time came, I prepared the meat for grilling, quartered a large onion (also for grilling) and my wife sliced some tomatoes and got some fresh broccoli ready to steam. The timing worked out well and we had a nice dinner.
Tonight, we'll watch a DVD (Blood Diamond). And then, tomorrow, I'm off to class number three in welding!
I've given the beast more care and money than he deserves over the 11-years-and-counting that I've had him so far. But, in all honesty, he's treated me well, too. No massive breakdowns on the highway, no general sense of unreliability. But that Bastard has cost me lots to keep it in tip-top shape! But, since I paid for my previous car about four years before I bought the Bastard new, for cash, I've not had car payments (on my personal car) for fifteen years!
After caring for the car, it was off to do some short-sleeve-shirt-shopping at J.C. Penny, which I typically loathe because I become upset at the prices that I consider highway robbery. But I was surprised by massive discounts, allowing me to buy four shirts for only $51. The down-side, of course, is that the shirts were made in Bangadesh (I think) and the people who made them are probably living in abject poverty, courtesy of my willingness to buy sweat-shop shirts. Realistically, though, I don't really know what options I have. Seems everything is made someplace else. Signs are everywhere of the well-deserved decline of the American empire.
Thereafter, we stopped for lunch at a place called La Hechizera. The staff speaks very little English, I'm reticent to try my Spanish, and the menu board is printed in such tiny type I couldn't read it. But, we we managed to order some tortas that were very flavorful. My wife had one that had ham, lots of cheese, avaocados, and various other "stuff," but it was too large and too greasy to eat easily. I had a torta that was a mix of pork (al pastor) and chorizo, also with loads of cheese, avocados, jalapenos, and various other stuff. Good! Just a few minutes ago, I read a review of the place on chowhound that made me want to go back and try some other things...and try my Spanish.
When we got home, not long after 1:00 pm, my wife allowed as how she'd like to take a nap. While she napped, I showered and shaved so as to be presentable for the remainder of the day. And then I took a nap (which I do rarely, but more frequently now than in the past). I woke after 5:30!
It wasn't long after that my wife inquired as to what we should do about dinner. A short conversation resulted in an agreement that New York strip, grilled outside, would be just right. When the time came, I prepared the meat for grilling, quartered a large onion (also for grilling) and my wife sliced some tomatoes and got some fresh broccoli ready to steam. The timing worked out well and we had a nice dinner.
Tonight, we'll watch a DVD (Blood Diamond). And then, tomorrow, I'm off to class number three in welding!
Friday, June 13, 2008
Chi'ren
What does one do when one realizes, too late, that one's life could only be fulfilled by having had children...but when one realizes that too late?
I'm not referring to my wife and me, though it could easily apply to us. We've never wanted children. I don't know quite why, other than our selfishness. We've just never wanted them or the life-changes they would have wrought.
What happens to people who didn't want children, for many good reasons, but who then realize that maybe they really did, after all? I can only imagine it must be akin to finding a huge, gaping hole in one's life, a hole that can't be filled. Assuming, of course, that it's too late. At 54 and 62, it would be too late for us.
But what does one do? Nothing, I imagine. There's nothing to be done. I just hope people who opt not to have children think about it long and hard.
My only concern with our decision is that there's no one to take care of us after we can no longer take care after ourselves Hmmm. We'd consider adoption, if you're in the market.
I'm not referring to my wife and me, though it could easily apply to us. We've never wanted children. I don't know quite why, other than our selfishness. We've just never wanted them or the life-changes they would have wrought.
What happens to people who didn't want children, for many good reasons, but who then realize that maybe they really did, after all? I can only imagine it must be akin to finding a huge, gaping hole in one's life, a hole that can't be filled. Assuming, of course, that it's too late. At 54 and 62, it would be too late for us.
But what does one do? Nothing, I imagine. There's nothing to be done. I just hope people who opt not to have children think about it long and hard.
My only concern with our decision is that there's no one to take care of us after we can no longer take care after ourselves Hmmm. We'd consider adoption, if you're in the market.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Hard Neighbors
I attended our neighborhood association annual meeting this evening. The talk was of falling perimeter walls, roof rats, ways to keep criminals out of the neighborhood, and getting hard-nosed with the lawn-care guys who put leaflets on our doors. "They don't seem to be able to read our no-soliciting signs...maybe we ought to put them in Spanish!" I think I astonished and annoyed some people when I said, "I actually find their flyers kind of useful sometimes." You'd have thought I had expressed appreciation for a rapist dropping by for a chat.
As much as I want to be neighborly and have neighborly neighbors, I have to wonder: are these the people I want to be neighborly with?
As much as I want to be neighborly and have neighborly neighbors, I have to wonder: are these the people I want to be neighborly with?
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Today's Breathtaking Story
Weather returned to its surly self here today, boiling oxygen and carbon dioxide into a soupy mess of humidity and meteorological malaise.
Even after a nasty yesterday, I soldiered on today and acted as host to an online chat for my cash-challenged client...it zipped by faster than I expected, starting at 6:00 p.m. and ending after 7:00 p.m., although I thought it was only 6:15 p.m. when it was time to cut it off. This was my first time acting as host and answering questions as they were submitted online. I actually enjoyed it. Even the nasty comments were interesting challenges; I think I succeeded in being cool and collected to such an extent that most participants came quickly to my side and found the aggressive, strident questioners to be surly and nasty and undeserving of atention.
Because it was well after 7:00 p.m. when I was done, my entire wife (who works with me, in the office) suggested we got out to eat. We did, and enjoyed Tanee Thai as much today as we did the first visit. I got adventurous tonight and did not order my typical Pad Kee Mow. Instead, I ordered a Green Curry with Chicken. Green it was. Not my favorite, but not bad. My wife had a Chicken Volcano Dish...hard to say what it was, except it was fried strips of chicken with sesame seeds in the fried batter and lots of need for jazzing up with spicy Thai condiments.
Tomorrow (June 12) is a brother's birtday. June 9 was a sister's birthday. Happy birthday to the both of them!
Even after a nasty yesterday, I soldiered on today and acted as host to an online chat for my cash-challenged client...it zipped by faster than I expected, starting at 6:00 p.m. and ending after 7:00 p.m., although I thought it was only 6:15 p.m. when it was time to cut it off. This was my first time acting as host and answering questions as they were submitted online. I actually enjoyed it. Even the nasty comments were interesting challenges; I think I succeeded in being cool and collected to such an extent that most participants came quickly to my side and found the aggressive, strident questioners to be surly and nasty and undeserving of atention.
Because it was well after 7:00 p.m. when I was done, my entire wife (who works with me, in the office) suggested we got out to eat. We did, and enjoyed Tanee Thai as much today as we did the first visit. I got adventurous tonight and did not order my typical Pad Kee Mow. Instead, I ordered a Green Curry with Chicken. Green it was. Not my favorite, but not bad. My wife had a Chicken Volcano Dish...hard to say what it was, except it was fried strips of chicken with sesame seeds in the fried batter and lots of need for jazzing up with spicy Thai condiments.
Tomorrow (June 12) is a brother's birtday. June 9 was a sister's birthday. Happy birthday to the both of them!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Friendly Realities
Today was a bad day for my company. My largest client's board voted to reduce the amount they pay for management by 25%. That means the immediate reduction of one staff position. But as much as it pains me, it's the right decision, though it's a hard pill to swallow.
It's the right decision that came very, very late. And it comes on the heels of many, many irresponsible decisions to keep spending at unreasonable levels, despite my strong warnings to the contrary. My extremely harsh words to them last February, telling them they would be bankrupt by July if they continued on their path of blindness to reality, finally got to them. I berated them then for being so unwilling to listen to my recommendations and earlier warnings that they had put the organization in grave risk. If I'd kept my mouth shut, I might have kept being paid at full fee through this year end.
So, who gets hurt? Not the Board, though it did finally decide to turn off the spigot on the funds it had allowed itself for travel, hotel, and expensive meals connected to its meetings. Not the members, who think their dues should cover all services and then some (despite the fact that their dues actually cover 20% of expenses).
No, it's my company, my staff, and a couple of other "vendors" as they call us, that get hit hardest.
Live and learn. When the going gets tough, the people who were once "friends" become very focused on the bottom line. Rightly so, I suppose. Emergencies do reveal what's important to people, though. And my "friends" on the board revealed that what they're buying is more important than who they're buying it from.
Economic realities ruin friendships all the time, I suppose.
Today, my challenges are: 1) can I get health care coverage; 2) who do I fire; 3) how do I reconcile my situation with the way I think the world ought to work?
And I still haven't heard from the bicycle company...but I think they've already decided there are others who are better suited than I to selling their products.
I guess I need to explore the mechanics of becoming a "drug mule" for Central American drug smugglers. I hear the pay can be good, and if I turn the other way, I won't notice all the people who suffer and die as a result of my role in the business.
It's the right decision that came very, very late. And it comes on the heels of many, many irresponsible decisions to keep spending at unreasonable levels, despite my strong warnings to the contrary. My extremely harsh words to them last February, telling them they would be bankrupt by July if they continued on their path of blindness to reality, finally got to them. I berated them then for being so unwilling to listen to my recommendations and earlier warnings that they had put the organization in grave risk. If I'd kept my mouth shut, I might have kept being paid at full fee through this year end.
So, who gets hurt? Not the Board, though it did finally decide to turn off the spigot on the funds it had allowed itself for travel, hotel, and expensive meals connected to its meetings. Not the members, who think their dues should cover all services and then some (despite the fact that their dues actually cover 20% of expenses).
No, it's my company, my staff, and a couple of other "vendors" as they call us, that get hit hardest.
Live and learn. When the going gets tough, the people who were once "friends" become very focused on the bottom line. Rightly so, I suppose. Emergencies do reveal what's important to people, though. And my "friends" on the board revealed that what they're buying is more important than who they're buying it from.
Economic realities ruin friendships all the time, I suppose.
Today, my challenges are: 1) can I get health care coverage; 2) who do I fire; 3) how do I reconcile my situation with the way I think the world ought to work?
And I still haven't heard from the bicycle company...but I think they've already decided there are others who are better suited than I to selling their products.
I guess I need to explore the mechanics of becoming a "drug mule" for Central American drug smugglers. I hear the pay can be good, and if I turn the other way, I won't notice all the people who suffer and die as a result of my role in the business.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Where I've Been...
Neat mapping service...lets you create a map of the countries you've traveled to...here's mine:
create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands
There is so much more to see!
create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands
There is so much more to see!
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Quake Perspective
Open this link to get an interesting, Chinese, perspective on the recovery efforts following the massive May earthquake in Sichuan Province, China.
How Oil Prices Will Change the World
These are my rosiest predictions. And I really mean it. This is best case, the way I see it.
As energy prices continue to rise and push other prices ever higher, people will want to...be forced to...stay closer to home. Zoning laws will have to re-adapt to pemit and even to encourage neighborhood businesses. Cities will be forced to re-think massive investments in "build it and they will come" suburbs and regional malls. Businesses will be forced to allow employees to telecommute in order to attract high quality workers. Municipalities will surely begin taxing businesses on the basis of employees' carbon footprints, so the closer the employee is to the business, the less tax the business will pay. The transportation/distribution systems that we have come to take for granted will become highly valued; there will be an enormous surge in demand for access to, and proximity to, distribution systems. This, paradoxically, will occur at precisely the same time that demand for "hyperlocality" (see below) soars.
As zoning laws change (but don't keep up with social change, which will far outstrip municipalities' ability to respond to the real world), the growth of residential-neighborhood-based businesses, both retail and business-to-business, will accelerate well beyond the capacity of cities to keep up with them. These businesses will be smaller, much more personal, and highly competitive for the business of smaller markets. For people who have grown accustomed to their "pure residential" neighborhoods, this change will seem like the world is coming apart. And, in fact, what they will be witnessing will be the beginning of that process.
Cities like Dallas, which heretofore have purposely segregated businesses from their customers through the use of zoning and which have staked their futures on what all of us have believe was the immortality of the internal combustion engine, will find themselves unable to cope. The new realities of citizens' lives will result in radically changing expectations about what cities should be doing and should have done. Cities will be forced to respond to demands for IMMEDIATE projects to dramatically improve public transportation, create bicycle lanes on roadways, and undertake other projects that will ease the pain of having to deal with the new realities of gas prices.
Globalization, long the rallying cry of politicians who want to "lead" theirsubjects constituents into a make-believe future, will begin to be viewed as the monster it is (it is not inately so, but is made so by the forces of the free market, which can turn even the most innocuous process into an ugly and dangeous mutant). An equally unrealistic reaction, that of "hyperlocalism," will emerge as the "way of the future." [The term "hyperlocalism" has been used to describe media coverage at the neighborhood level; I use it here to describe a reaction to globalism that takes provincialism to entirely new levels.] Hyperlocalism is apt to breed insularity and distrust between nations and even between cities and states. "All politics is local" will take on a new and much more ominous meaning.
Trying to forecast the rolling impact of change on society is one of my favorite pasttimes. But I wish I could believe that the impact of oil prices on our society will be as rosy as the picture I just painted. In reality, I think we are witnessing the beginning of what will be a massive collapse of civilization as we have come to know it and the ultimate demise of humankind. When we talk about what the world will be like in fifty years, I think we're engaging in wishful thinking of biblical proportions. In fifty years, I think it will be The World Without Us (a book I've mentioned before, but still haven't read...time is running out).
As energy prices continue to rise and push other prices ever higher, people will want to...be forced to...stay closer to home. Zoning laws will have to re-adapt to pemit and even to encourage neighborhood businesses. Cities will be forced to re-think massive investments in "build it and they will come" suburbs and regional malls. Businesses will be forced to allow employees to telecommute in order to attract high quality workers. Municipalities will surely begin taxing businesses on the basis of employees' carbon footprints, so the closer the employee is to the business, the less tax the business will pay. The transportation/distribution systems that we have come to take for granted will become highly valued; there will be an enormous surge in demand for access to, and proximity to, distribution systems. This, paradoxically, will occur at precisely the same time that demand for "hyperlocality" (see below) soars.
As zoning laws change (but don't keep up with social change, which will far outstrip municipalities' ability to respond to the real world), the growth of residential-neighborhood-based businesses, both retail and business-to-business, will accelerate well beyond the capacity of cities to keep up with them. These businesses will be smaller, much more personal, and highly competitive for the business of smaller markets. For people who have grown accustomed to their "pure residential" neighborhoods, this change will seem like the world is coming apart. And, in fact, what they will be witnessing will be the beginning of that process.
Cities like Dallas, which heretofore have purposely segregated businesses from their customers through the use of zoning and which have staked their futures on what all of us have believe was the immortality of the internal combustion engine, will find themselves unable to cope. The new realities of citizens' lives will result in radically changing expectations about what cities should be doing and should have done. Cities will be forced to respond to demands for IMMEDIATE projects to dramatically improve public transportation, create bicycle lanes on roadways, and undertake other projects that will ease the pain of having to deal with the new realities of gas prices.
Globalization, long the rallying cry of politicians who want to "lead" their
Trying to forecast the rolling impact of change on society is one of my favorite pasttimes. But I wish I could believe that the impact of oil prices on our society will be as rosy as the picture I just painted. In reality, I think we are witnessing the beginning of what will be a massive collapse of civilization as we have come to know it and the ultimate demise of humankind. When we talk about what the world will be like in fifty years, I think we're engaging in wishful thinking of biblical proportions. In fifty years, I think it will be The World Without Us (a book I've mentioned before, but still haven't read...time is running out).
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Music in My Life Blog
Thanks to alex, I'm able now to incorporate a music playlist into my blog. It's there, over to the right. See it? Click on Sultans of Swing (or any other title) to hear it play. Assuming, of course, you have speakers and your volume is turned up.
Morality Dinner
We made another attempt recently to keep our neighborhood ethnic dining group alive. Last night, we visited a Viennese/Bavarian restaurant that we'd been to before (with a very small group). Last night, the group was smaller. Our neighborhood was represented by just one other couple from down the street. Because of we knew in advance of the poor showing, we invited a staff member to come along. She joined us, along with her domestic partner. It turned out to be one of the more enjoyable dinners we'd arranged, because the six of us were able to converse easily (despite a noisy restaurant).
After dinner, our employee and her partner went on their way and my wife and I invited our neighbors to go with us to one of our favorite ice cream shops (actually, one of the only ones we ever visit). The guy, who readily admitted to having an ice cream addiction, quickly agreed and so off we went.
It did not even occur to my wife and me until just before we left for dinner that some people might be uncomfortable with (or might make other people uncomfortable with) the fact that a gay couple was part of the group. Fortunately, either our neighbors are not among those who would be uncomfortable or they simply didn't act on their discomfort or they did not realize the two women were gay. Once I started thinking that, in this Republican stronghold of Dallas, our neighbors could be ultra-conservative on the matter, I became concerned about our employee and her partner being made uneasy. I'm glad that didn't happen, but I'm disappointed that I realized it was even a possibility. Our society desperately needs to get over its rigid standards of "morality" in so many areas.
After dinner, our employee and her partner went on their way and my wife and I invited our neighbors to go with us to one of our favorite ice cream shops (actually, one of the only ones we ever visit). The guy, who readily admitted to having an ice cream addiction, quickly agreed and so off we went.
It did not even occur to my wife and me until just before we left for dinner that some people might be uncomfortable with (or might make other people uncomfortable with) the fact that a gay couple was part of the group. Fortunately, either our neighbors are not among those who would be uncomfortable or they simply didn't act on their discomfort or they did not realize the two women were gay. Once I started thinking that, in this Republican stronghold of Dallas, our neighbors could be ultra-conservative on the matter, I became concerned about our employee and her partner being made uneasy. I'm glad that didn't happen, but I'm disappointed that I realized it was even a possibility. Our society desperately needs to get over its rigid standards of "morality" in so many areas.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Hot Bike Moves
Weather has been unpleasant of late, with low temps at night dropping only to the high 70s and climbing to near 100 during the day. This is not suitable for walking, not even from the car to the comfort of air conditioned space. No relief in sight, say the weather people.
My wife and I visited an office space today...looks like it might be the place to lease. I liked it when I saw it. It has "loft" offices, each with two levels. A funky old (1970s vintage, so not really "old") building that is highly nontraditional in today's sterile office building conventions. I envision some Mexican colors on the walls, some newly-minted metal art from the soon-to-be-welder, and a new business direction!
I made a call today to Whizzer Bike Company, distributor of electric-powered bicycles. My purpose was to explore setting up a dealership in the Dallas area. They want someone with various motorcycle backgrounds and licenses, but they're willing to talk. So later, we'll talk.
My wife and I visited an office space today...looks like it might be the place to lease. I liked it when I saw it. It has "loft" offices, each with two levels. A funky old (1970s vintage, so not really "old") building that is highly nontraditional in today's sterile office building conventions. I envision some Mexican colors on the walls, some newly-minted metal art from the soon-to-be-welder, and a new business direction!
I made a call today to Whizzer Bike Company, distributor of electric-powered bicycles. My purpose was to explore setting up a dealership in the Dallas area. They want someone with various motorcycle backgrounds and licenses, but they're willing to talk. So later, we'll talk.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Help Me Do Something...and So Forth
One day, I'll explain what I have done to justify returning to this blog. Suffice it to say I think it was something that should have been done, but it was not as much as should have been done. But it was something that helps me at least temporarily shelve my shame for bitching too much and doing too little. Enough said, for now.
Some who read this blog know that my wife is a breast cancer survivor. She was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of breast cancer five years ago and was given essentially two options; have a total mastectomy of her right breast and undergo extensive chemotherapy or die soon. It wasn't as straightforward a decision as it should have been. But ultimately she agreed to undergo the surgery and the absolute horrors of chemotherapy. And subsequently she had to face the realization that "don't worry, your hair will grow back," was a lie, unintentional though it may have been. Her very, very thin, wispy hair, barely covers her head now; no matter how she wears it, there is a lot of skin showing...a lot of bald patches. She finally got the point that she could go out in public without a cap. It wasn't because her hair got any thicker, it was because she finally decided she wouldn't let others' reactions to her appearance dictate how she felt about herself and the world.
Five years after her diagnosis, all I care about is that she is a survivor. She's safe. She doesn't have cancer. At least not now. And I'll do anything in my power to keep it that way. One thing I can do is to support efforts to find cures and better ways of treating breast cancer until the cure if found. And one way I can do that is to support the cause of friends, both personal and those I make through blogs, who want and need support while they are dealing with their own personal nightmares of cancer.
And another thing I can do is to condemn organizations that put corporate profits and shareholder "value" above the lives of people who don't deserve to be sacrificed to the almight dollar. One such organization is Gevity, the professional employer organization (PEO) that recently cancelled our contract, which included providing medical insurance coverage for my wife and me, as well as our employees. Their terse, heartless letter said, in effect: Our contract says we can cancel your account for no reaon: we are doing so and we are giving you 30 days notice." If anyone who reads this blog has any influence over anyone who might conceivably have decision-making power over selecting Gevity as a PEO...or if anyone knows of a company contemplating contracting with Gevity...know this: Gevity is not trustworthy. The company utterly ignores its tagline of "People 1st." Its true tagline should be: "Money 1st. People Are Expendable." Bastards. If you know anyone with ANY connections to Gevity, please pass along my views.
And another thing I can do is to be less vindictive. I'll try. As a start, let me suggest to you that you offer any support you possibly can after reading this blog post:
So That There is a Tomorrow.
On a much more positive note: I took my first welding class on Sunday evening. I'm in love with metalworking. During the course of fewer than three hours last night, I fell in love with everything having to do with shaping and joining metals. If I had the skills I would need, I'd quit working in my business tomorrow.
Finally, I looked at several more possibilities for new locations for my company's offces today and found some great options. I am ready to move out of my current space and, in fact, gave notice of my decision not to extend my lease last Thursday. One place I'm looking at could be a retail space, in addition to office space. I'm so tempted, but the old-style office loft was appealing, too. And I'm still thinking I may surprise everyone, including my wife, by just announcing my decision to close my company's doors. Probably not, but my god it's tempting!
One more thing. Read this post from Drugmonkey. It proves that the world is just full of heartless bastards who deserve to die and full of people who make humankind so god damn wonderful. And I hate the duality of it all.
Some who read this blog know that my wife is a breast cancer survivor. She was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of breast cancer five years ago and was given essentially two options; have a total mastectomy of her right breast and undergo extensive chemotherapy or die soon. It wasn't as straightforward a decision as it should have been. But ultimately she agreed to undergo the surgery and the absolute horrors of chemotherapy. And subsequently she had to face the realization that "don't worry, your hair will grow back," was a lie, unintentional though it may have been. Her very, very thin, wispy hair, barely covers her head now; no matter how she wears it, there is a lot of skin showing...a lot of bald patches. She finally got the point that she could go out in public without a cap. It wasn't because her hair got any thicker, it was because she finally decided she wouldn't let others' reactions to her appearance dictate how she felt about herself and the world.
Five years after her diagnosis, all I care about is that she is a survivor. She's safe. She doesn't have cancer. At least not now. And I'll do anything in my power to keep it that way. One thing I can do is to support efforts to find cures and better ways of treating breast cancer until the cure if found. And one way I can do that is to support the cause of friends, both personal and those I make through blogs, who want and need support while they are dealing with their own personal nightmares of cancer.
And another thing I can do is to condemn organizations that put corporate profits and shareholder "value" above the lives of people who don't deserve to be sacrificed to the almight dollar. One such organization is Gevity, the professional employer organization (PEO) that recently cancelled our contract, which included providing medical insurance coverage for my wife and me, as well as our employees. Their terse, heartless letter said, in effect: Our contract says we can cancel your account for no reaon: we are doing so and we are giving you 30 days notice." If anyone who reads this blog has any influence over anyone who might conceivably have decision-making power over selecting Gevity as a PEO...or if anyone knows of a company contemplating contracting with Gevity...know this: Gevity is not trustworthy. The company utterly ignores its tagline of "People 1st." Its true tagline should be: "Money 1st. People Are Expendable." Bastards. If you know anyone with ANY connections to Gevity, please pass along my views.
And another thing I can do is to be less vindictive. I'll try. As a start, let me suggest to you that you offer any support you possibly can after reading this blog post:
So That There is a Tomorrow.
On a much more positive note: I took my first welding class on Sunday evening. I'm in love with metalworking. During the course of fewer than three hours last night, I fell in love with everything having to do with shaping and joining metals. If I had the skills I would need, I'd quit working in my business tomorrow.
Finally, I looked at several more possibilities for new locations for my company's offces today and found some great options. I am ready to move out of my current space and, in fact, gave notice of my decision not to extend my lease last Thursday. One place I'm looking at could be a retail space, in addition to office space. I'm so tempted, but the old-style office loft was appealing, too. And I'm still thinking I may surprise everyone, including my wife, by just announcing my decision to close my company's doors. Probably not, but my god it's tempting!
One more thing. Read this post from Drugmonkey. It proves that the world is just full of heartless bastards who deserve to die and full of people who make humankind so god damn wonderful. And I hate the duality of it all.