Monday

I've got more spice than the Frugal Gourmet.

Jeff Smith is probably responsible for teaching me more about food than any other television chef. In the days before Food TV and assorted other cable television cooking shows, PBS was the place to go to feed your food instruction jones and The Frugal Gourmet was always my favorite way to do it. While the show's raison d'etre was teaching about other cultures through the use of food, The Frug always came through with the basic technical instruction and essential knowledge needed to be a good cook. He's the reason I cringe every time I see Rachel Ray drag her knife sideways on her cutting board and his voice is the one I hear when someone in my family says "Hot pan, cold oil, food won't stick". He could cook circles around just about any of the doucheballs on Food TV right now and I would put his store of knowledge up against any and all of them. Even Alton Brown.....sure the guy knows food science like nobody's business, but he fails to bring anything near the joy to his cooking that Jeff Smith did.

Unfortunately, the guy's career ended in disgrace when he was accused of sexual assault by a former employee and then about 7 others joined the first accuser in suing him. He settled out of court and never admitted any wrong doing, but the damage was done and he left the air forever soon afterward. In my humble opinion, he got jobbed. The first Michael Jackson case showed people that accusing public figures of sexual crimes could make you a boatload of money and I have no doubt in my mind that Jeff Smith was a victim of both the times and some unscrupulous assholes who sought to enrich themselves by destroying his good name. It's a shame and 10 years later it still pisses me off that such a nice man died in disgrace.

On the brighter side, his cookbooks are still available, still selling like hotcakes, and they make GREAT GIFTS for the bloggers in your family.

Hint hint.

I'm Bringing Sexy Back....


...and when I say "Sexy" I mean "Mork Suspenders".

What the hell ever happened to the utter joy of expressing yourself through the use of trouser suspension technology? What ever happened to our ability to learn all there is to know about a person simply by looking at their suspenders and the assorted paraphernalia buttoned or sewn onto them? One glance at Mork and you knew that he was a fun loving dude from outer space who loved rainbows, white gloves, and doing cocaine until your nose falls off.

Nanu Nanu, motherfucker.



Unfortunately, if you were to take a look at Mork today, your only conclusion would be that he is just some gay guy who works at TGI Fridays. I suppose this information would be helpful if it were true, but what do we learn about Mork as an individual?? I'll tell you what we learn....not a god damned thing.

Thanks to the corporate cancer that has turned America's chain restaurants into the kinds of places that put grill marks on cheesecake, fun suspenders and cool buttons are now nothing more than the uniform of despair. This was so aptly illustrated in the famous "Pieces of Flair" bit from the movie Office Space. Yes it was hilarious. Sadly, it was also true.


I realize that by causing you to contemplate these facts I have sent you into a deep depression. Your longing for the innocent days of the early 80's when rainbow suspenders were fun and cool threatens to crush your very soul. I apologize for that.... but fear not!

I am going to change everything.

I have a plan that will right this wrong and give fun suspenders with cool shit stuck all over them back to the people.

When I am done, you will hardly be able to resist going to the store, getting those suspenders, and adorning them with all the things that make you you.

Buttons buttons buttons!

Maybe you'd like a button with the name of your favorite musical group or sports team?

Perhaps a pink unicorn jumping over a river of cotton candy?

Maybe even a picture of a tripped out March Hare that says "Keep On Truckin'"?

Whatever.....you can have any button your little heart desires and you will once again be able to make a statement with your awesome suspenders that lets the people you meet know what a special kind of person you truly are.

Happy days will indeed be here again.

That reminds me....remember when Mork was on Happy Days? Great episode.


So anyway...big things are on the horizon


I admit that the plan is in the early stages of development and right now it is little more than the idea that I will wear these suspenders and try not to get my ass kicked, but when I am done it will truly be something to behold.

As will you with your neat new suspenders.

Thursday

Crusoe

This show has become my newest guilty pleasure. I am sure I am not alone in my love of the "Stranded on a desert island" story. I have been a fan ever since I read Robinson Crusoe as a kid and I think the initial success of the show Survivor proves this fact. I have always wondered how I would fare if left to my own devices on a tropical island capable of sustaining a hardy adventurer. Of course, in the book, Robinson worked for years to build his island fortress and recreate some of the creature comforts of home using what little he could salvage from his wrecked ship. On the show, it seems the ship blew apart in a storm, flew through the air, and landed in a tree in the form of the Westin Kalawani Hills Hawaiian Tree House Resort ( I made that up). Before Robin and his pal Friday moved in, MacGyver paid a visit to the tree house and rigged up just about every contraption he could think of to make The Rob-Man's home more comfortable and defensible. It's pretty sweet......every show begins with the boys lounging in their hammocks discussing philosophy, religion, or Olde England, and just waiting around for something to happen. Fortunately for the viewer, something invariably does. Most weeks the adventure involves mutineers who have camped on the island, Spanish soldiers, or on really special shows, the cannibal tribe from whose treacherous clutches Robin saved Friday. These cannibal dudes are my favorite characters on the show. Ably portrayed by what look like members of the horror metal band GWAR the cannibals never cease to provide a few laughs as they snort and scream their way through 40 some minutes of suitable for TV action. No actual flesh has been eaten, thanks to Rob and Fri. At least not yet.

If you have never seen the show and have not picked up on what I am hinting at here, I'll spell it out for you: The show is bad. Incredibly horribly bad. It is the most contrived and clunky piece of tripe a major network has foisted upon us in years.



Guess what though.....IT'S STILL GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!!!!!

I grew up watching CHiPs and The Love Boat, dude.

Shit TV is in my blood, man and Crusoe is just the shit I need right now.

No long story arcs, no intense and compelling dialog, no flawed but loveable characters.

Nothing but production values and a problem that is solved by show's end.


That's how TV used to be and I'm glad there's something like this still around.



It will probably be canceled any minute now.

Wednesday

It's getting hard not to talk politics...

Many years ago I made a pact with myself to never discuss politics with anyone.

Friends, acquaintances, strangers, the guy who pumps my gas, yo momma...no political talk with any of them.

This wasn't always the case.

I used to engage in heated arguments with just about anyone who wanted to mix it up, and many a night of back road drinking (an Orange County phenomenon) was spent wrangling with my Republican friends over a case of Rolling Rock.

This ended one night when my buddy Eric Kent brought his college roommate along on one of our excursions and he proved himself to be one of the wisest young people I have ever met.

In the middle of the usual yammering he asked a question I will never forget: "Why do you guys even bother with this? You're never going to change the other person's mind."

My initial reaction was to inform him that he was wrong and that ,with a carefully thought out argument, it was indeed possible to swing your opponent around to your way of thinking, but I almost immediately decided that I was the one who was incorrect.


You really aren't ever going to bring the other person over to your side. Of course people do change their views over time, but it is almost never due to one conversation or debate. It might be possible to influence a fence sitter or two, but I found from that point on that attacking an entrenched opponent rarely resulted in a productive outcome of any sort.

I realize that there are people that love to debate and take pleasure in scoring points whenever they can, but for some reason I have always been committed to showing the other person that they were wrong, that I was right, and securing an admission of that fact. Of course this never happens.


Could be that I am a shitty debater, and I very well might be, but it has been much better for my psyche and my soul to let others engage in the political chit chat while I concern myself with more pressing matters.

I am content to accept that different people see the issues in different ways and it is best to let that lie.


This worked quite well until I discovered the Times Herald Record's news forums and started exposing myself (yeah, poor choice of words) to some of the most ignorant people I have ever encountered.


Now I have been all over the Internet and I have seen all kinds of shenanigans, but for some reason I find the fact that these people live near me makes their behavior and views even more unsettling.


These forums have long been a place for the local malcontents to gather, spread rumors, bash local officials, and complain about high taxes, but Election 2008 has pushed things in a new direction.

I admit to taking a few shots when stories concerning my neighborhood have run in the paper and I can never resist jumping in when the facts are misrepresented by The Record's woefully incompetent Goshen beat reporter, but the presidential election seems to have brought out a new brand of crank that has begun stirring up old feelings.


Feelings that compel me to point out the errors in their thinking, show them how wrong they are, and convince them that perhaps putting a gun to their temple and ending it all might be the best solution for everyone.

Of course my favorite potential targets are the ones least likely to listen to my brand of reason so I have managed to resist so far, but it's becoming a bit of a struggle.

My ire could be directed at both the right and the left, but the variety of idiot most likely to break me down is the right wing nutjob who loves to repeatedly post how "stupid liberals" just don't get it while making numerous spelling and grammatical errors. You can find this type of character on pretty much any political blog these days, but the local headcases seem to be out in force on the THR site. The local morons also love to justify their own racism with references to Jeremiah Wright. Pathetic.


THESE MOTHERFUCKERS NEED A STERN TALKING TO!!!!!

Grrrrrr.......must......resist......




Of course it could be that nearly constant exposure to news media (thank you BlackBerry) has over sensitized me and I feel the need to lash out in the forum most available to me, but that's another post.


For now I am staying out of it....one week to go.

Tuesday

A Sound Investment Strategy For Troubled Times

This little article on Marketwatch has led me to a plan that I believe could be the savior of IRA's and other retirement accounts across the nation.

In case you don't feel like clicking on the article I will summarize it for you: Heinz (yeah the Ketchup company) has been doing awfully well despite the economic crisis and it in the opinion of CFO Art Winkleblack (That's his real name....honest) it is due to the fact that many of Heinz's products are inexpensive comfort foods.

I think old Arty is 100% correct.

When I find my personal shit hitting the fan I love nothing more than seeking solace in a big plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes awash in a sea of Heinz Beef Flavored Gravy. I know what you're thinking.....yes I would normally make the gravy myself but when Big C is really hurting he cuts a few corners. That's just the way Big C copes, my bitches.



Enough of the Big C shit.....Jesus that was a little embarrassing.

There is no reason to think millions of other fat-assed Americans don't find solace in hot meat and liquid fat just like I do. Shit....Arty Winkleblack even said they do!







So...on to the meat and potatoes of my plan. Get it? Meat and potatoes? LOL!




The heart of the plan is using this revelation to guide the total re-allocation of my retirement assets into a broad spectrum of warm and comforting food company stocks and commodities futures like pork bellies, lean hogs, and live cattle.


From there I plan to start hoarding frozen turkeys and looking into cornering the market on crock pots.

I will avoid large and diversified industrial food producers like Con Agra and concentrate on only the companies that have been mathematically determined to offer the highest levels of down home goodness. The Down Home Goodness Formula must remain secret for now.


American desperation and subsequent compulsive eating will ensure continued growth and a healthy return on my investments. Shit, the uptick in Kraft Macaroni and Cheese sales may just buoy the Dow all by itself.

I also heard a rumor that there is some rich dude who can only cure his depression by doing cannonballs into a pool full of Heinz 57 sauce.

Let's pray this becomes a fad.






Come see me at Thanksgiving and I'll make you a nice deal on a Butterball.

Sunday

Just got back from Corolla, NC.

This was the view from our back porch every evening.

Too bad we don't own a tripod. There are 5 or 6 shots that would have turned out better than this if I could have only held the camera still.

Shucks.

Posted by Picasa

Monday

"Rice and Vermicelli mixture"

Yeah, that's what it used to say on the Rice-a-Roni box.

Seems to me like it should have been called Rice-a-Celli. Well...maybe not...that shit doesn't flow.

I just ate some of this stuff the other night (beef flavor) and Goddammit do I ever love it.

Always have.

With all the negative publicity and health warnings surrounding convenient dried crap like Rice-a-Roni I find myself eating much less of the old beef flavored ambrosia then I used to. This is probably a good thing because I have no doubt in my mind that it was just this kind of delicious over processed starchy shit that gave me a mild case of The Sweet Blood.

Damn you, Giant Industrial Food Conglomerates.....damn you to hell!


Plowing down a nice sized helping of the stuff got me thinking though.

I've spent a good deal of time in San Francisco.

I lived there 6 months and have been back on several occasions and not once during that time did I ever see a plate of Rice-a-Roni or even hear the name of the product spoken.

Never.

There I was in what Television led me to believe was Rice-a-Roni's birthplace (Heaven, if you will) and I was not getting my fair share of Domenico (a.k.a. Charlie) DeDomenico's wonderful creation.

This was perplexing indeed.

Perplexing until the other night when I had an epiphany.


Yes Rice-a-Roni has been inextricably tied to San Francisco, but this association is not without conditions.


You see.....this stuff is the San Francisco Treat.


You gotta earn it, baby!


At no time during any of my stays in The Bay Area did I perform deeds or actions virtuous enough to earn myself a mouth watering plate of rice and macaroni steamed in chicken soup mix.

I just didn't get it.


I do now.


You had better believe that the next time I visit San Fran, I will be on my best behavior.

I'm going to be tossing bums five dollar bills, helping old ladies cross the street, giving blood every day, fighting crime, saying please and thank you, and just generally being an all around good guy. No......make that excellent guy.


I am going to make it fucking impossible for those smug-ass side dish withholding San Francisco mother rapers to deny me my fair share of delicious carbs. They'll probably be inviting me into their homes for big steaming piles of the stuff. They might even be so impressed they'll bust out the new Fried Rice Flavor for me to try.


Oh yeah.....I have their number now.

The Rice and Vermicelli mixture is so mine.






I could also just pick up a box at Hannaford's too. I might do that instead.

Friday

Talk about miffed!

I love horse racing.

I could go on and on about the reasons why.

Sure, racing's popularity is at an ebb these days, and bad publicity following the filly Eight Belles' death in the Kentucky Derby has done much to damage its reputation, but there are still hard core racing fans out there and I am proud to count myself among them.

From the atmosphere at the track to the beauty of the animals themselves, I find a lot to like as a "sports fan" and spectator.

There is something supremely relaxing about sitting in the stands and enjoying a beautiful day or taking a walk to the paddock to watch the horses being saddled and guided around the walking ring.

These tranquil interludes are broken up by two minute periods of furious action and excitement as the actual races are run.

Sure the races are fun to watch and there are few summer experiences that can top a day at the track, but the excitement is greatly increased when you've risked a little money and this leads to the true reason I find horse racing so compelling.

Racing is not just a sport, but it is also game. A game that takes knowledge and skill to play well and a game that rewards hard work and diligence with more than one kind of satisfaction.....the satisfaction of financial gain and, perhaps more importantly, the satisfaction of being right.

This takes you beyond a mere spectator and turns you into someone who has an actual stake in the outcome of each event.

Unlike most other forms of gambling, you are not playing against the "house" when you bet the races. You are playing against the other fans who are there with you (and others around the country). The track has no interest in weather you win or lose, only that you bet. Thus, there is no house advantage and by increasing your skill you can gain your own advantage over the people you play against.

Sure there are many people that go to the track for the day and bet on horses that carry their lucky number or favorite color, but for the serious player the real work takes place before he or she ever sets foot in the grandstand. Work that leads to an advantage over the casual or unskilled player.

Horse racing may be more glamorous in England, and Japanese race horses may be household names, but no horse player in the world is provided with anything near the sheer volume of useful data about upcoming and past races that the American fan has access to.

Each horse is judiciously watched and timed when it is working out and when it is racing and this data is used to create the myriad of times, speed figures, and pace numbers that are printed in the Daily Racing Form (and elsewhere) and are used by the prospective players to handicap the upcoming race. In other words, make an educated guess as to the outcome and then wager accordingly. The idea being that horses are quite literally creatures of habit and are wont to perform repetitive tasks the same way they have in the past. Studying what the horse has done previously can lead you to a reasonable expectation of what he will do in the future. You may have heard the story about the horse who could take his master home after he passed out drunk in town. Same idea.



Here's some old bastard with his copy of the form:





Poring over this data and sinking my teeth into the stats the night before a trip to the track is my second favorite thing about playing the races. (The first being when that effort results in me holding a winning ticket).

The thing about this is, other serious players have access to the exact same information I do, and the result of many people backing the same horse is lower odds.

Lower odds mean lower payouts and lower payouts mean you have to win more often to make money.

I hope you didn't get the idea that utilizing this data leads to me being able to pick the winner of every race. I strive for a 40% win rate and in reality, it's at around 20% just about as often as it is 40.

Low payouts and a 20% win rate are a recipe for breaking even at best and more often result in a losing day.


You have probably guessed by now that finding information that other players don't have is a key part of actually making money with your bets and attempting to do just that is what has led to my current state of incredible miffedness.

I mentioned the Eight Belles tragedy at the beginning of this post, and it kind of ties in to my quest for unique info. In the interest of safety and the prevention of just the kind of thing that happened to that great horse, many tracks have installed synthetic racing surfaces in place of their dirt ovals.

Yes...fake dirt. Mostly the surfaces are comprised of sand, wax, rubber chunks, and fibers and they are designed to not only cushion the horses' feet as they run, but drain off water and eliminate the muddy and potentially dangerous conditions brought on by rain and other bad weather.

A noble idea that has yet to bear fruit.....no real data has proven that the synthetic tracks decrease injuries..only that the horses suffer different kinds of injuries when running on them.

The tracks have their supporters and detractors and I constantly vacillate between both camps, but one thing is certain: Some of these tracks play hell with normal handicapping methods. The tried and true rules simply don't apply.

This has led to many people refusing to bet at tracks that have these surfaces installed.

It has also led to many horses winning at very attractive odds.

Thinking about this led me to a brilliant idea.

I would build my own database consisting of the results of every single race run at the last Keeneland meet.

(Keeneland is a track in Kentucky that only runs for two weeks at a time and features one of the most inscrutable synthetic surfaces in horse racing.)

This incredible database would lead me to insights not available to my opponents and allow me to destroy them at the next meet.


I was going to be rich!!!! Well, maybe I could win a couple hundred bucks anyway.


I set to work.

I downloaded the result charts of every single race, I designed and built an Access database that would contain every relevant bit of info I could glean.

Running times, fractions, sires, dams, trainers, jockeys, early pace, late pace, speed!!!

Oh it was a thing to behold!


I spent hours entering the data from the charts into the database. It was tedious work but I was buoyed by the prospect of the huge payoff my efforts would earn.
The summer wore on and every day brought me closer to the opening of the fall Keeneland meet and the vicious attack I would launch from my online betting account.

Then one day I looked at their website.

Keeneland, who as a track has no interest in weather I win or lose...just that I bet.....MADE A DATABASE AVAILABLE ON THEIR SITE THAT COMPILES RACING DATA FROM EVERY RACE SINCE 2006!!





Motherfuckers fucked me.



So, everyone who takes the time to look on their site will have access to a database just like mine. Only bigger.



I think I'll play Santa Anita instead.

Tuesday

Finally....a bail out for the rest of us.

Just go here http://www.buymyshitpile.com/ and sell your bad assets to the US government.


I can't tell you how good it's going to feel when I finally unload Mama's Family: The Entire First Season on Beta that I bought during a night of drunken eBaying.


Estimated vaulue: $56,000.

Friday

On Food

Ok, I am going to take a break from the low rent Dave Barry thing and do a post about food....well restaurants actually...and it might turn into a rant.

Maybe not though. Read on!


Orange County(NY) may not be a restaurant Mecca like NYC but there are a few things we have here that are pretty special and may be taken for granted by people who have never left the beautiful haven of Southeastern New York to take up residence in food poor areas of the country. The most prominent thing, in my mind, is the abundance of pizza joints. They're everywhere. Some are great, some are the kind of places where you just know the pizza guy took a dump, walked right past the bathroom sink, and sunk his hands straight into your large sausage with mushrooms. For the most part though, you can walk into any pizza place in Orange County (well, maybe even the whole Northeast) and be assured that you will be eating something that at least resembles what real pizza should be. Invariably, along side this pizza will be the ruling triumvirate of the hot sandwich kingdom: Chicken Parmesan, Meatball Parmesan, and Sausage and Peppers. Always there, always reliable, and always ready in about 10 minutes.

This doesn't happen everywhere.

There are large swaths of territory in this country where the pizza joint is either non-existent or a stygian torture chamber where dough goes to die. You can't wake up after happy hour in Northern California, grab the phone in that semi-drunk semi-hungover stupor, and order up a hot meatball sandwich. Ditto for anywhere south of the I-Hop/Waffle House line and anywhere in the Southwest. I must admit that my experience in the Midwest has been limited to Chicago and their incredibly silly (but delicious) version of "pizza", but just driving through places like Ohio and Indiana left me with a very strong feeling that I was surrounded by people who think Pizza Hut makes the best damn pies in the world. In case you were wondering, we have a name for people like this. They're called "Fucking Idiots" No offense to real pizza loving New York idiots intended.


Of course other areas of the country have their own regional quirks and specialty foods that you can't find around here and the lack of any Thai food in the area is maddening, but good pizza and saucy hot sandwiches are something we should treasure.



Hold on one moment though.



Before you run around slapping all your local pizza dudes on the back and/or offering them oral sex for being so super awesome we need to talk about the downside of this phenomenon.

Specifically, the Italian influence on Orange County fine dining.

There are relatively few establishments in The OC (Yeah, I call it that now) that can claim to be purveyors of fine food and the fine dining experience and with only a few exceptions the bulk of the successful ones feature "Northern Italian" cuisine. Don't get me wrong, I love this kind of food and there is a restaurant in Goshen that deftly serves some of the best Nor-Tal grub I have ever eaten. I am referring to Il Tesoro which not only features fantastic food, but is owned and operated by one of the most capable and professional restaurant people I have encountered anywhere. This is great and I would be happier than Roger Clemens with a 14 year old country singer if this were one of many different kinds of restaurants competing for my fine dining dollar, but the fact remains that for every nice non-Italian restaurant there are two or three places serving the very same kind of food. Sure there have been attempts to open local minds, but most of these maverick establishments fold soon after I discover them and proclaim their magnificence to everyone I know.

Frankly, it's getting boring.


I know it's an uphill battle though. Just listening to people rave about a mediocre place like La Vera Cucina has made me realize that the average local resident is happiest when the comida piled on their plate is not only familiar, but served in great abundance. It seems the only real requirements for satisfaction at this place are that the food be Italian and served in a nice room.


(Forgive me if I seem to be harboring a particular dislike for this restaurant, but I can't stand to hear the constant gushing over a place that not only serves up some of the most uninspired crap in Orange County, but can't even cook a fucking steak. To those of you who would tell me that you don't order steak at an Italian restaurant I would ask that you do two things: 1. Go to Il Tesoro and order the Tuscan Steak. 2. Show proper contrition when you come back and tell me it was one of the best steaks you've ever stuffed in your ignorant gob.)


So much for not ranting.


I know I sound a little bit negative and I realize that what I consider a lack of variety is still better than living in a place that doesn't have any decent restaurants at all (Western Virginia, I'm looking at you), but I refuse to stop imagining a day when there are more than 5 or 6 really nice restaurants in this county that don't all serve the same thing. A really good French restaurant would be an excellent start.


A lot is going to have to change before that ever happens.

Tuesday

In The News

Ok, the news has been pretty bad lately.

Lehman Brothers going under, Merrill Lynch gets bought out by BofA, WaMu looks like they're going down and AIG is in big trouble as well.

Wall Street has been rocked to its very core and the financial landscape may never look the same. Those aren't necessarily my words, but that's what the likes of Bloomberg, CNN, and Reuters have been saying.

It also looks like the government rescue packages made available to Fannie and Freddie (stupid names) will not be offered to Lehman or WaMu and I for one think this is a very good thing.

Whether or not these firms simply aren't well connected enough or have been deemed too small to save it's nice to see the Fed let the market play out like it was meant to and refrain from throwing more taxpayer money at the problem. That would do nothing more than perpetuate the moral hazard that created the credit crisis in the first place.

Of course this does not mean there wont be more money tossed to the auto industry or some other business entity that the government feels we cannot do without, but for now there's a few billion dollars that won't be added to the national deficit.

Not that letting companies die is a good thing. Jobs are at stake. Jobs held by people who had nothing to do with the bad decisions made by upper management. Having once held a job that became a casualty of poor decision making at the top I can unequivocally say that the whole experience sucks a fat dick. I feel for these people.

Yes, it looks bleak, but I am here to tell you in the immortal words of Douglas Adams: Don't Panic.

It's been worse. Heck the early 80's featured the same kind of stagflation and falling real estate values we have today,but with double digit interest rates and even higher unemployment. Things are going to come around again like they always do.


I know that's not cheering you up, but there are actually a few good news items that are sure to do the trick.



1. Sirius Satellite Radio has launched an all AC/DC channel. It's only for a "Limited time" but let's enjoy it while it lasts. No, I don't have Sirius either, but a guy at work does and he's cranking the AC/DC channel all day long. Cool.

2. Palermo thoroughly dominated AS Roma on Saturday. Rome came out, scored early, and made it look like it was going to be a yawner. Palermo refused to roll over and fired back with three goals while making the game the most enjoyable soccer match I have watched this year. I can tell...you're smiling already.

3. That new Metallica album is pretty darned good.

4. If you live in the Houston area, you probably have the day off. Go do something fun!

5. A bad economy is good for Obama. I don't know who I am voting for yet, but I am sure that both of the people who read this blog are hardcore dems so.... Yay you!

6. Back to AIG. I hope they pull through this, but I think they are going to need to cut way back to do it. All unnecessary spending must be eliminated, starting with sponsorships. Specifically sports sponsorships. Specifically their sponsorship of The Evil Empire. Yes, I am referring to the agglomeration of vile cunts known to the world as Manchester United. Any development that results in the loss of funds for Sir Alex Fuckerson and his gang of soccer playing doucheballs is great news in my book. Sure they've probably barely even blown through the massive wad of cash they got for winning The Champions League, but still......every little bit counts and in this case we could be talking about 14 million pounds a year.


So buck up, little camper!


Things are pretty sunshiny if you look at them right.

Thursday

I think I might be ready to forgive Metallica...

Things have been bad between Metallica and me for quite a long time now. In fact, I have a hard time remembering when our time together was truly enjoyable and untainted by bitter regret. When I think back, the days when we would just hang out and enjoy the gifts the Gods of Heavy Metal gave to young men of our generation seem fuzzy in my memory and it's hard to conjure up the feelings in my heart that used to come so freely. It's gotten so bad that even when we find ourselves alone in the car (purely by chance... it's never planned...not any more) I can barely summon the energy to play a little air guitar or play the drum parts on the steering wheel and/or dash board.

What happened?


It wasn't the Napster thing. Sure that whole mess was awful and Metallica were key players in bringing about the end of a truly fun and carefree era. Not to mention the fact that Lars Ulrich proved himself to be one of the most insufferable and humorless pricks to ever draw sweet sweet smoke through a tour bus bong.


No. It wasn't that.


Could it be that I've gotten older?

Nah.

I've found that despite my advancing age and the widened musical tastes and wisdom that accompany it I am still able to enjoy the cheesiest of cock rock anthems as if they were released only yesterday. Shit, I can even tolerate Bon Jovi in small doses. I still rock out like a god damned moron when I hear a loud guitar.

It isn't me.


So what then?


Oh wait....maybe it's because the last few Metallica albums have profoundly SUCKED.


The Black Album started the downward slide. Being the first Metallica album to fail to improve on the last in any way it was where the cracks in our relationships started to appear. Sure they had lots of new fans and I am sure they enjoyed the hell out of those cheap whores who didn't know Kill 'Em All from a hole in the wall (God that was lame) but I knew right then it would never be the same.

It wasn't.

Load. Reload. Some piece of shit live album that couldn't have been a more obvious attempt to make people pay for songs they already owned twice (Not that most of us weren't vindictively downloading them for free by then) It got so bad that I never even considered listening to St. Anger, the album that was supposed to be the "Return of the real Metallica".

FYI, guys....The real Metallica recorded songs with guitar solos in them.

Don't get me wrong...releasing a few shitty albums is not the kiss of death for your average band, but when said band has raised the bar so high there are expectations put upon them by their fans that must be met. The cardinal expectation being: never change. If you must change, do it gradually and learn from your mistakes. You might even consider listening to your fans. The fact is that you sold yourselves to us a long time ago and we own you forever. The terms of sale require that you deliver the product we want regardless of your personal desires and creative yearnings. Yes...it's stifling. We know you're capable of so much more, but we don't care. If it makes you feel better you can become bitter and treat us with contempt...it seems to work quite well for Pete Townshend.


It looks like the newest release (Due on September 12th) may be indicative of the fact that Metallica is finally starting to miss me. Ditching that shithead Bob Rock was a good start. Adding a badass like Robert Trujillo to the lineup was a sure fire way to get me interested and little bit of Rick Rubin never hurt anyone.

Allowing preview songs to appear on iTunes has also shown their willingness to come to terms with the horrible horrible demon known as digital music. All good signs.

Put them together with some stupid lyrics and over the top guitars and I am yours.


It might be time for me to give a little.

I have been a hard-ass long enough and I think I am going to give Metallica another chance.


Look for me at Best Buy this Saturday standing in line with a shiny new copy of Death Magnetic in my filthy mitts.

Yes....I am actually going to pay for it.

Tuesday

Thai Leader Ousted Over Cooking Show

Yeah, this is a good one:


According to the AP, Samak Sundaravej has been relieved of office by the Thai Parliament for maintaining private employment while in office.

Samak hosted a popular cooking show for 7 years before becoming Prime Minister, but has apparently made a few appearances on the show since taking office and according to the Thai courts, that's good enough to earn you the old heave ho. He claims that he received no payment for the appearances beyond reimbursement for transportation and the food he cooked while on the show.

It looks like he may be back in office any time since his party has vowed to re-nominate him for the post when Parliament votes for a new prime minister sometime in the next few days.

His tenure has been controversial and fraught with intrigue, but what I really want to know about the whole situation is what the hell he cooked.

I love Thai food and would hope it was nothing less than a blisteringly hot green curry filled with perfectly done seafood that did him in. I'd hate to think the dude got axed for making something as boring as Pad Thai or failing to otherwise bring the spice.

Here's hoping you went out in a blaze of glory, my friend.


You've gotta love the Thai people for actually electing the guy. (Possibility of rigged election notwithstanding)

This is the equivalent of The United States electing Emeril Lagasse president.



Just imagine....Emeril In Chief....Kicking the presidency up a notch....



Merely saying the word "Garlic" during the State of The Union address would evoke paroxysms of bi-partisan joy and a five minute standing ovation.

The Democratic rebuttal would always contain the line "I wish those of you watching at home could smell this!"

Cabinet meetings would only take place during the holidays and rotating cabinet posts would be drawn out of a hat: Secretary of Defense, Secretary of Transportation, Secretary of The Interior, etc, etc. Of course they would always find a way to stick that dumb bitch Sandra Lee with nothing more weighty than fun and fruity drinks. President Lagasse will be damned if he's going to let that idiot fuck up Thanksgiving with a boneless turkey loaf.


As you can see above, I have assumed Emeril is a Republican and probably a neo-con. Of course this means that any group or nation that would seek to threaten America's interests will be treated to a little Essence.


No, I don't mean Creole Seasoning.

I mean hot,spicy,delicious death rained down by the highly trained line cooks of the US Air Force....BAM!

Under President Emeril, the aftermath of all M.O.A.B. strikes will be characterized by a smell that kind of reminds you of Old Bay, but with more cayenne. Not so much that it overpowers the delicately scented roasting flesh of our enemies, but enough to give it a little kick. It's really nicely balanced and the secret is that the spices are lightly toasted during the explosion which brings out their natural oils.



I'm not going to get too involved with his elaborate plans to prop up the dollar and fix the US economy, but I will tell you that it involves pork fat, which rules.





Jesus, we would be so screwed.

Friday

I'm Hypermiling now.

Yeah.....I know you've probably never heard of it and if you have, what you've heard has most likely been negative. It seems to have been much more positively portrayed under its alternate name of Ecodriving.


Basically, Hypermiling (or Ecodriving) is the act of using simple driving techniques to maximize your gas mileage. The ultimate goal being to exceed your car's EPA estimated fuel economy by as wide a margin as possible.

I first became aware of the practice when reading an article in Mother Jones about Wayne Gerdes, the original and probably the most extreme hypermiler ever . He not only coined the term "Hypermiling" but has spun off numerous terms, acronyms, and abbreviations that have become the jargon of its fans. This led me to his site: www.cleanmpg.com and then to engaging in the practice myself. I am not as fanatical as some of the people you'll learn about if you follow the link, but I am definitely making progress.

Wayne started doing this not long after 9/11 with the idea of keeping as much money out of foreign oil merchants' hands as he possibly could. His rationale: Big oil led to big construction in Saudi Arabia and then to big money in the pockets of the Bin Laden family. This coupled with the reduction is greenhouse emissions are his main reasons for starting this movement.

Ok, sounds great on the surface, but I am more interested in big money in the pockets of Chris Canzoneri. You see...I am not green. I couldn't care less about Global Warming and do not pray at the alter of the New Environmentalist Church. The fact that I engage in many green behaviors is motivated solely by my desire to save money. Compact florescent light bulbs, new windows, attic sealer, programmable thermostat, etc. All done to put more of the other kind of green to better use. I admit that I don't let that stop me from advocating energy conservation and cleaner living for everyone, but the fact is if some whack-ass endangered species gets up in my face he's going down. Spotted Owl or no, you come in my territory, you're getting a cap popped in your feathery ass.

Just kidding.

I'd never shoot an animal because if the bullet were to pass through its body and land in protected wetlands the lead could seep into the ground water.


Anyhoo, I did want to comment on the whole Ecodriving vs. Hypermiling thing.

Hypermiling has been condemned by Triple A and most blogs and websites where it is mentioned include at least one or two comments about its danger and/or silliness.

Ecodriving, on the other hand, has actually been endorsed by the state of California and even has a super slick website developed by The Alliance of Automobile Manufactures. Check it out.

I can't help but think the connotations of the prefixes "Eco" and "Hyper" are part of the reason.

Lately, all things "Eco" are good. "Eco"-Tourism, "Eco"-Living, Umberto "Eco", the "Eco"nomy...ok scratch that last one.

In contrast, "Hyper" is almost never good unless you're going into "Hyper" space and for all we know that shit isn't even real.


"Eco" good.
"Hyper" bad.


From now on I am Ecomiling.

Thursday

Small Town Girl

What is this crap I keep reading about Sarah Palin's small town values and "Regular folks" type charm? Are we really supposed to believe that people who grow up in smaller municipalities are served up an extra helping of integrity that those crafty-assed city slickers miss out on? I was born in a small town and I live in a small town. I'll probably die...never mind. The point is that, in my experience, small town folk can be just as scummy as any city bred huckster. The mere fact that your town has one traffic light does not magically imbue you with some sort of benevolent wisdom and unimpeachable moral character. Frankly, the fact that she was willing to blatantly lie in her speech last night (Which I didn't watch...I know....BAD VOTER) pretty much exemplifies that very fact. I am referring to the Bridge To Nowhere. Apparently she was for it before she was against it. Add that to her claims that she stood up to special interests when in fact as both mayor and governor she chased more pork than a horny boar and you have someone that sounds pretty much like a typical politician.

I am fully aware of the fact that anyone seeking high public office in this country is going to have to make a few thousand moral compromises, but acting like her hick roots are going to strengthen her resistance to this giant sell-out is just plain stupid. She's going to play the game just like everyone else.

As for her being just a regular hard working American just like the rest of us regular hard working Americans?

Don't care.

That whole thing smacks of the "I'm going to vote for Obama just because he looks like me" crap some of the most ignorant rightys love to sling at African Americans.



If it is at all possible that you are going to be the leader of my nation and you're just a regular guy (or womyn) like me, you're not getting my vote.

Call me crazy, but I want the leader of this country to be exceptional. I'm talking about a truly awesome individual. Hyper-intelligent, Hyper-organized, and if possible...good at at least one of these three things:

1. Sports
2. Scoring with chicks
3. The Saxophone

No president has ever bagged the hat trick on this one, but I refuse to stop dreaming.

Let the small town schleps run for mayor.

Wednesday

I have a problem with fortune cookies.

I eat way more Chinese food than I should and as a result I find myself reading a large number of little white pieces of paper that I’ve plucked from the depths of their vaguely vanilla scented folds. Most of the time I forget what I’ve read almost immediately, but today I noticed something that made me recall many of the fortunes I’ve read in the past and something that many of them have in common. No, I didn’t learn the final word that led me to mastery of the Chinese language. (By the way, I am sure that if I had and traveled to China armed with this skill I would have ended up learning Mandarin when I needed to know Cantonese or vice/versa) What I noticed was that these days very few of them are “fortunes”.

Call me a traditionalist, but I want that damned cookie to tell me my destiny.

Not that all non-prognosticatory cookies are bad. I usually enjoy the ones that contain nuggets of “Ancient Chinese Wisdom” (“The axe soon forgets, but the tree always remembers” is one of my favorites) but that is about the limit of my fortuneless cookie love.

From here we enter the realm of the cookies that attempt to do two different things.

1. Give you advice

2. Teach you something about your nature.



Listen, cookie….I am a grown-ass man. I know right from wrong. Quit trying to get up in my grill and tell me what to do.

When I need advice I’ll ask for it and you can be damned sure I won’t be seeking it from a Chinese cookie that’s too freakin’ bland for its own good.

You also need to keep your baseless and inaccurate judgments about my life, work, and family to yourself.

You don’t know me, bitch.

Well, ok…you totally called it that one time you said I love Chinese food, but that’s it….you’re batting like .023 ...big whoop.

Stick to the whole “Opportunity will soon knock. When it does, answer the door!” type thing and we’ll be cool again….in bed.

Perry Bible Fellowship





I love this strip.

Too bad it will never be seen in our local paper.

More here.

RIP Jerry Reed

Jerry Reed passed away on Aug. 31st.

This quote says it all:

"Let me say this firmly, with no room for quibbles or dissent: Jerry Reed is the coolest motherfucker who ever walked the planet. You think he's just a goofball who recorded some novelty records and drove a truck in Smokey and the Bandit? Then listen to the way he performs each song: He's always an actor as well as a singer, not to mention a dynamo guitarist. Listen to the way he jumps easily from country to blues to swampy funk-rock, from funny tall tales to love songs to political numbers so witty you almost forget he's making a point. Listen to that LAUGH, son. Jerry Reed kicks ass."


Tuesday

Is This a Gen Y Thing?

Ok, I bought a new car last week and absolutely love the thing.

I know I'm still basking in the glow, but so far I really have no complaints ...knock on wood.

During my exhaustive pre-purchase research (It's a Saturn Astra by the way) I kept reading that the lack of an auxiliary input on the stereo was one of the car's most glaring defects.

I read this repeatedly in the automotive press and chalked it up to the reviewers' need to find something negative about a car they wanted to dislike going in, but further reading in internet forums revealed that many people consider this a deal breaker.

The vehemence of some folks was downright surprising.

Many flatly stated that they would never buy a car that didn't have one and it was clear that the majority of these Anti-Saturnites were under age 30.


Now I am not an old fart, I have owned an iPod since they came out and have even used one in the car with a cassette deck adapter.

It's cool but I have always hated the inelegance of a wire coming out of the dash and the iPod sitting in the cup holder.

The presence of an aux input would do nothing to alleviate that particular situation.

The stereo in the car will read MP3 discs however, and to me, burning several of them would not only allow you to transport nearly as much music as your iPod, but leave you with a much neater driving environment. You can even navigate through the menus using the steering wheel controls in the car. Much safer than looking down at the iPod you just fished out of the center console.

This puts the aux jack in the "Nice to have but not necessary" category for me.


Is today's average Gen Y'er so addicted to his or her MP3 player that they are unable to drive a car without using it?


Is today's average Gen Y'er too lazy to take the time to think the situation through and do a little bit of work to remedy the problem? Especially when it might mean they get the car that might meet the rest of their needs splendidly?



At the risk of sounding like an old fart, I'm going to say yes.

I'm pretty sure I dislike blogs

Generally, I am of the opinion that they are nothing more than a vanity press for those who mistakenly feel they actually have something to say that is not only worth reading, but worth being read by large numbers of people who are neither friends or family.

Sure blogs are great for keeping up with family, sharing pictures, etc...but I find that most journeys taken off the Big Time Blog Highway end on dusty roads full of overblown prose, silly opinions, and shitty metaphors.

(Notice I said "most" not "all". If you are reading this and happen to be someone I know, rest assured that I think your Blog is awesome. Really...I love it.)


Despite my disdain for most things bloggish, I find that my natural curiosity about things I dislike has led me past intrigue and straight to the point where I want in on the action.

After all, I have a buttload of silly opinions about a variety of subjects and can bust out a shitty metaphor with the best of them.

I'll leave the overblown prose to the experts.


Most of the time.