I don’t get out much. Between my physical limitations (being disabled and in chronic pain, low income, crummy car) and my mental ones (I’m just not that interested in so doing), I’m lucky to get to the credit onion, grocery store, a cheap restaurant and perhaps the library each week.
This is one reason my Internet access and computer are so important to me! My ‘window on the World’, as it were!
I’m essentially the ubiquitous pajama boy, except much older, more educated, and living in a rented room upstairs instead of a stereotypical basement.
And I’m less liberal.
In one of my travels, I met a nice couple. A psychologist and her office manager husband (not that that’s of any importance to this post). Marlo and Jon are both pre-eminent in their field.
And Marlo comes from a long family history of motorcycle riders.
In 2008, she was in an accident which changed her life. And almost ended it. A car turned in front of her. (Can you see why she got my attention?)
While hospitalized and in rehab, she wrote a blog, which she later coalesced into a very personal book regarding her Chautauqua from a person with addictions to one in recovery. Her story included the courage, loyalty and love of her partner and husband Jon – whom I have personally nick-named St. Jon after reading her book.
Anyone who has had love, loss, ‘challenges’, courage and been fortunate enough to have others to help with those challenges should read this story! Be forewarned – it is not always light reading.
But, there IS most definitely a positive message!
(FTC – I get nothing from Amazon I don’t pay for. Only friendship from Dr. Archer. Leave me alone.)
Regular readers know I love movies and TV. What you may not know is, I rarely go ‘out’ to the movies.
Part of the reason is the technological shift in how we can view movies. I get them directly on my satellite dish, or through services like NETFLIX™. I even own a ‘few’ on DVD! (I know – OLD technology!) 😛
There are more than enough from which to choose.
And there’s this (from FB, in part – not me!):
Went to the H****** Metrocenter 12 …at the 01:30pm “Jupiter Ascending”…Me and 2 others of my party had to walk out!!!
Some trashy family with 3-4 kids sat right next to us and talked and talked ..and talked…and also they let their kid run up and down in front of us!
Then to top if off….the father had the nerve to pick up one of our parties drinks and hand it to his kid to drink out of ….then said sorry and handed it back “AFTER” his kid (& himself took turns slurping it down!).
I had to had have a friend get a manager…2 (Two) times….then finally got our money back and walked out!!
BAD!!!! I wont be back to the H****** Metrocenter 12…sad missed a film that I had been wanting to see for weeks!
Metrocenter used to be a family-friendly huge, upscale mall, wherein many weekends were spent window and actual shopping. With my then wife and young daughter. Now, with most of the brick-and-mortar department stores closed, it’s become a hang out for misguided yutes.
I remember even in pre-VHS days, attending a different theater and encountering rude people. As the film began, three yutes (misguided teens) began talking loudly to each other and the screen. Against my better judgment, I approached them and strongly suggested I paid good money to hear the movie, and not to hear them sh*** and j***. (Using a 40’s vernacular with which I’m certain they lacked familiarity).
They quieted down, and I spent most of the movie checking my six for some variety of retaliation. Thankfully, none came.
While I sometimes miss the big screens and speakers (remember CINERAMA™ and Dolby™?), it is nice knowing I can pause the film for bathroom and/or beverage, and even watch in my skivvies.
Say, didn’t we do this just a year ago, and the year before that?
And so on, and so on…
Seriously, best wishes for a Happy New Year to my family, my friends, my FB friends and especially my Internet and blog friends!
Most years fail to meet expectations at some point, but 2016 (for me, anyway) was particularly bad.
(There is no need to account for the negative items here.)
Thus, I’ve great hopes for 2017.
It does say something about the human condition, for all the pessimism, depression, war, disease, man’s-inhumanity-to-man, that EVERY YEAR we return to this ritual of celebrating the onset of a new year with positive hope for the future.
Either we’re optimists, or insane. (“Insanity – repeating the same behavior, expecting different results.” ( attributed to Albert Einstein)
Today, right now, I vote for optimism.
What other choice is there?
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
To all my friends and family near and far.
And, to all my Jewish friends,
And to my ‘other’ friends,
Joyous Solstice (belatedly)
And Best Wishes for a Safe and Healthy return for those in service to this Great Republic!
And to everyone, regardless,
PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL TO MEN
Let’s hope 2017 is a better year for everyone.
Christmas Eve at my niece’s last night!
Well…A kitchen secret.
Okay, for anyone who cooks, not a secret at all!
I don’t cook as often as I used to. This is because a combination of neuropathic foot pain and the lesser availability of funds for quality ingredients. In short, standing for any length of time is painful, and I can’t afford the fine ingredients I would like. Yes, I’m a kitchen snob.
Also, my roommate gets cabin fever and likes to go out – even if it’s for ‘cheap fast food’. So, there’s that.
I recently posted my standard recipe for Garlic Goldfish. A staple in my Christmas household for over 30 years. I used to use Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce™ initially, because many times it was the only brand available. And certainly the most famous.
But, in recent years, with my income having been cut (going on disability), I felt the need to cheapen the recipe. After all Worcestershire is Worcestershire, right?
The past few years, I used whatever was on sale, sometimes a ‘name brand’ in condiments, like French’s™, other times Ralph’s Brand (my nom-de-brand for a generic product).
And I found the Goldfish have suffered for it. They just didn’t taste the same.
SO, after making an initial small batch using French’s this year, I bit-the-bullet and spent the extra .75 and went back to Lea & Perrins™.
What a difference!
Now I can visit my Sister this Christmas Eve with confidence.
Accompanied by quality Goldfish, and my ex-wife (it’s a long story). 🙂
FTC – neither Lea & Perrins, French’s, Ralph’s Brand or Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers gave me anything! Go make your own!
The Garlic Goldfish (a perennial favorite Christmas snack) have arrived!
Actually, they were assembled by yours truly, in a couple hours standing at the iron skillet, Worcestershire, Blue Bonnet margarine and garlic powder at-the-ready. Then slow baked until dry and toasty.
(For the uninitiated, this is a snack I’ve made traditionally for years. Originally, I made standard Chex Mix, with the requisite addition of peanuts, pretzels and the like. With a tablespoon of this, a dash of that. I determined two things – people singled out the Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Crackers for consumption so the other ingredients were wasted, and screw this tablespoon-dash thing!)
I cover roughly 9/10 of the bottom of the skillet with Worcestershire, add 1/2 a stick of margarine, and sprinkle garlic powder generously. Then marinate a pan full of crackers until they soak it all up, over medium heat. Transfer all to a turkey roasting pan and bake @ 300° or so, turning every 10 minutes of so to check for burning, until they are all dry and crispy. (I use Blue Bonnet because it’s cheap and takes the high heat.)
I used to make these in massive quantities for Christmas when I was employed and bring them into work. It became such a tradition that folks would start asking me in September if I was bringing in goldfish that year!
Consumer Warning – they are QUITE addictive and go great with beer! People consuming these snacks needn’t be concerned they will be molested by vampires, or members of the opposite sex. (Unless they, too, have partaken of the garlicky treats!)
FTC – neither Blue Bonnet, French’s Worcestershire, Pepperidge Farm Crackers or anyone else gave me anything! I bought and assembled it all myself. Go make your own – and Merry Christmas!
I’ve an addictive personality. I come by this honestly, as both my parents were also afflicted. It killed them both.
Before you get all worried, I’m not addicted to tobacco, as my Mother was. My Father liked his cigars and his alcohol.
And his excess food.
The S.A.D. (Standard American Diet) – too many refined carbs, too much protein, too much white sugar.
I, too, like food. Sometimes to excess. Including sugar.
And, I’ve been diabetic since 2002.
The Good Rev. Paul posted recently regarding Krispy Kreme Donuts. Now, I
like LOVES me a good doughnut! The problem is unlike normal folks, stopping at one, for me, can be difficult. And here in college/commuter town USA, we are surrounded by doughnut shops! The ubiquitous Dunkin’, Krispy Kreme, and many local emporia.
SO…I must make the choice. And sometimes I partake.
Fortunately, it’s not too often, and not a dozen-at-a-time.
I’m reminded of a cartoon, long ago in Playboy. (Buck Brown? Gahan Wilson? Which I was unable to locate it on the ‘Net)
An older couple in their rocking chairs, on their front porch. Both are quite obese. And they are chowing-down. Between them is a large bucket of fried chicken. Just visible, to the side of the house, is a square, striped building(!?)
And one says to the other, “Sometimes, I wish they hadn’t moved in next door…”
Today, give me strength.
Thankfully, the nearest are at least a mile away, and I’ve no funds. And, it’s ‘cold’ out (40° – sorry, Rev. Paul!)
♫ “When I’m Sixty Four”♫
Every summer we can rent a cottage in the Isle of Wight
If it’s not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck & Dave
Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away
Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four?
(apologies to Paul McCartney)
My dear friend Bob Hall passed away February last. He had suffered complications from diabetes (first losing a big toe, then the lower half of a leg), then ultimately acid reflux lead to GERD, and then esophageal cancer. The last few months of his life, he was eating through a feeding tube. Lost half his weight, and was fighting pneumonia which finally took him.
I had known Bob, first as my investigation boss at Tom Ezell & Associates; later as my boss at Legendary Guns of the West (where I worked part-time), since 1981. More than being a boss, he was a dear friend. We saw each other through the stuff of life. I’ve a stepbrother – Bob and I are much closer.
He was always honest and true to me. His trademark was nothing is so serious that a joke cannot be made about it. Irreverent humor – Firesign Theatre and Monty Python quotes were often exchanged between us.
He was a crack shot and loved to go ‘to the desert’ to go shooting. Even in his final days, using a walker. And he passed his love of guns and The Second Amendment to his wife and daughters.
He didn’t want a somber funeral.
I heard from one of his daughters that this Saturday (yesterday) was to be his memorial celebration. A caravan of his friends and family went to the desert to one of his favorite shooting spots, did some eating, shooting, then spread his ashes.
Bob’s favorite things, family, shooting and grilling – combined!
I was honored to have been invited, and was honored to bring and shoot my 1911 – a National Match slide on a Vega frame, with lowered Bomar sights, a Micro bushing, and Swenson ambidextrous safety, hand-fitted by gunsmith Burke Hill. Which Bob sold to me in 1983.
I dubbed her The Bob Hall Signature Model. My roommate calls her Bobbie.
It’s been probably 20K rounds, and except for occasional cleaning, lube and replacing the recoil spring @ 3000 rounds, not much has changed. She remains a tack driver.
Essentially a race gun (c) 1977.
And she is my companion when the Phoenix weather permits.
Bob sold her to me for a pittance. He never profited from guns he sold to friends. And I had to make payments to him, I was so poor! (having been a new father at the time.)
It’s only fitting I take her to what Bob called Burro Town to shoot her one more time.
So, about eighteen of us gathered yesterday. Did some shooting – ate BBQ chicken with all the fixings. (including cherry cheesecake – Bob’s favorite!)
Then, we stood in a circle and shared memories of Bob. There was tears and laughter. Then Anita (Bob’s wife) asked those who wish to to take some of Bob’s ashes and place them about Burro Town*.
Then, we shot a simultaneous volley in his name. All of us using guns once owned by him!
This is the photo the family chose to place on the food table. Bob hated having his picture taken.
(*It was named Burro Town by Bob, due to the wild burros that wander the region. Usually, we see a few. Yesterday, they were absent.)
But we who loved him were there.
For some reason, my elders saw fit to pass trinkets from their lives onto me. Some, I understand, like my Dad passing his Dad’s NY, NH & H railroad police badge to me. 🙂
And my Dad, his railroad pocket watch (complete with fob and Grand Central Station locker key)!
But others aren’t so straight forward.
My maternal grandfather (Gramp), took me aside one day and gave me a compass. He didn’t explain where he acquired it, or who it was from. Gramp passed in 1977 with this information.
I still have the police badge. I gifted the pocket watch to my long-time friend Jim, as he has always been obsessed with trains, on his 50th birthday. (He and my Father talked about trains for hours, when I wasn’t all that interested.)
I still have the compass. Compasses of the same manufacture can be found on Ebay for $55.00. Of course, they don’t have the personalization on the inside of the cover!
The inscriptions read as though they might be of military origin, including a 1917 date. The Great War? I’ve no way of knowing. Internet searches of the initials and dates haven’t provided any further information.
As it is with so many things originating with my family, like what happened to my twin brother, I guess the answers are lost forever.