This morning I stepped on the scales and read 187 pounds.
Today is Saturday, so I don't anticipate much of a workout today, but it's been rainy so I might do a little lifting just to keep my eye in. If it cools off a bit I might go walking anyway.
Today we all went to Holy Land Market, a little grocery and deli on Sutherland Avenue in Knoxville, TN. As groceries go it's actually not that great. The range of products is limited. But that's actually okay, because it focuses on the stuff that really makes Mediterranean food what it is: unique ingredients that aren't common in Western cooking. Let's face it, you can get eggs anywhere and if you go to a distinctive grocery for them, you're going to take a bath at the checkout. So you won't find eggs at Holy Land. And that's okay.
Actually you might, but I never looked.
What you will find are such exotic (to us) concoctions as Turkish delight and stuffed grape leaves, ghee and seriously affordable cinnamon.
In the last few years Holy Land has gotten serious about its deli. We waited until Son #2 got home from work and went out there for a late lunch/early dinner meal. The food is fabulous.
At first Son #1 was a bit nonplussed at his choice, a beef brisket plate. It tasted like American food. "Except it isn't. It tastes like American food served in a Med restaurant. I mean it tastes like what someone would get in an American restaurant somewhere in Egypt, if they have American restaurants." I never really thought of food that way, that our traditional meat-and-three might have "exotic" overtones in the right setting. Anyway, he wound up trading nearly half his meat around. It was a delicious cut of meat, ridiculously tender. He traded heavily with me, Son #1 is a big fan of goat meat and couldn't get enough of my meal, the goat stew platter.
The goat stew platter has a strongly Indian vibe, there's plenty of curry in the dish and the sauce is a lot like a spicy masala, heavy with potatoes and served over rice.
Sweetie's dish was a shawarma chicken platter, wonderfully spiced and highly varied but she traded fairly early with Son #2 who got the chicken shiskebab, as he isn't fond of the Greek salad that came with it. Sweetie devoured the salad, and I watched her with some envy. The garlic yogurt dressing that came with that salad was brilliant, and wound up topping gobs of goat and rice on my pitas during the meal. She had some too, but most of it came to me.
Shawarma is really more of a street food preparation, it's easily moved from place to place. Shawarma just means the food has been roasted on a turning spit, kind of like gyro meat. For that matter Holy Land has gyros, but I'm keeping my eyes peeled for a nice Greek place in the area first.
While we were waiting, Walter - the guy who runs the place - brought us our grape leaves as an appetizer, with a cup of cucumber yogurt for dipping. Dipping the lamb-stuffed grape leaves is completely unnecessary, but it's fun. A lady came in with her husband, marveling at the place.
"Is this your first time here?"
"Yes! I didn't even know this was here. Is the food good?"
"Is it ever! Here, have one of these." And I held up the plate of grape leaves. She took one a bit doubtfully, and bit into it.
She waved her husband into a chair. "Sit down. We're eating here."
Holy Land Market at 3609 Sutherland Ave, Knoxville TN. You won't be sorry.
I might be, a little bit. I think I'm definitely going to have to go for a walk, that was a big plate of food.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Friday, May 9, 2014
Dallas: The Next Generation, and Day Five: 187
Stepping onto the scale this morning, I looked down at the dial between my toes: 187. Looked at one way, I've only lost two pounds. Now, two pounds in a week is pretty good. Looked at another way, I'm 10% of the way home.
In the 1980s my mom's favorite show was Dallas, as it was for lots and lots of other people, too. In fact Dallas first aired in '78 and steamrolled through the entire 80s at full chat, not coming to a top-tier finale until 1991. Along the way were many iconic moments like "Who Shot JR" and "It Was All A Dream," which drove my mom quietly bananas. She'd been a big fan of the show but that last bit pretty much pulled the drain out of the tub for her. That weird revelation that Bobby wasn't really dead wasn't enough to put everybody off, though: Dallas' finale is the 15th most-watched TV episode in US history.
That finale took JR Ewing, who was originally not the main character, on a little trip through the Land of What If, a Dallas version of It's a Wonderful Life. As Ewing is descending into depression, contemplating killing himself, another character walks him through how the various members of his extended family would have experienced different lives without him around. At the end of the episode, there's a gunshot.
That scene wasn't resolved until five years later! There was a Dallas reunion movie in 1996, and JR was alive and walking around in that. In fact there were two more movies over the next few years, and evidently there's either enough retirees with time on their hands and basic cable, or simply that many aging actors looking for work, that Dallas is back with significant elements of the original cast. Even JR returned.
Except now that Larry Hagman has died in real life, we have to see exactly how Dallas, which was heavily affected by the remarkable gravity of the Hagman singularity, will function in the future without either him or JR.
It Was a Wonderful Life!
In the 1980s my mom's favorite show was Dallas, as it was for lots and lots of other people, too. In fact Dallas first aired in '78 and steamrolled through the entire 80s at full chat, not coming to a top-tier finale until 1991. Along the way were many iconic moments like "Who Shot JR" and "It Was All A Dream," which drove my mom quietly bananas. She'd been a big fan of the show but that last bit pretty much pulled the drain out of the tub for her. That weird revelation that Bobby wasn't really dead wasn't enough to put everybody off, though: Dallas' finale is the 15th most-watched TV episode in US history.
That finale took JR Ewing, who was originally not the main character, on a little trip through the Land of What If, a Dallas version of It's a Wonderful Life. As Ewing is descending into depression, contemplating killing himself, another character walks him through how the various members of his extended family would have experienced different lives without him around. At the end of the episode, there's a gunshot.
That scene wasn't resolved until five years later! There was a Dallas reunion movie in 1996, and JR was alive and walking around in that. In fact there were two more movies over the next few years, and evidently there's either enough retirees with time on their hands and basic cable, or simply that many aging actors looking for work, that Dallas is back with significant elements of the original cast. Even JR returned.
Except now that Larry Hagman has died in real life, we have to see exactly how Dallas, which was heavily affected by the remarkable gravity of the Hagman singularity, will function in the future without either him or JR.
It Was a Wonderful Life!
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Fuel Economy, and Day Four: 188
Walking around the block for exercise last night, no workouts. Also last night we met Son #2's girlfriend, which was a surprise. It was a surprise because I didn't know he even had a girlfriend. One epiphany after another, I guess. The kid can be closed-mouthed, that's for sure. Anyway she's a pleasant young lady, suitably nerdy to appeal to not just him but the rest of us, too. We surprised her with a quickly-made dinner, then they hung out by the fire outside for a while. When it got dark, he popped back inside.
"Hey, dad...to run her home, could I take the Honda?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I have a really good average going on this tank and I really really really want to set a new high."
"I can do that."
"Don't be offended, but I don't think you can." I hold my own hypermiling skills in some regard and so far have the very best mileage performance of anyone in the family. When you're beating the EPA's estimate for your car by 20% or more, you must be doing something very right. I'm currently the #11 truck on the trucks leader board, and the #21 hybrid car, and the competition is tough.
Getting 20% over EPA also makes me think all those people who wanted their money back from Honda for "overstated" fuel mileage estimates weren't trying. Again, like my revelation regarding my own health, they're abdicating responsibility to entities outside themselves, another instance of the pop-a-pill mentality, that there is a quick, painless solution to every little ill and you don't need to invest time or energy on your own part to keep things performing at some arbitrary level.
I work at my mileage numbers. My truck is currently below 30mpg and that just galls me. Am I working at dragging that back up, you'd better believe it. It has held a moving average over 32mpg in the past, and I want it back up there, pronto. The tough part is that sometimes Son #2 - the only other one in the family with an interest in hypermiling - works a mere three miles away. Right about the time the engine is getting warm and starting to deliver good economy, he's parked.
Breakfast this morning: some backsliding. But the Panera cinnamon rolls are soooo good. Ye gods, look at all those calories. Well, I guess that's enough of that.
"Hey, dad...to run her home, could I take the Honda?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I have a really good average going on this tank and I really really really want to set a new high."
"I can do that."
"Don't be offended, but I don't think you can." I hold my own hypermiling skills in some regard and so far have the very best mileage performance of anyone in the family. When you're beating the EPA's estimate for your car by 20% or more, you must be doing something very right. I'm currently the #11 truck on the trucks leader board, and the #21 hybrid car, and the competition is tough.
Getting 20% over EPA also makes me think all those people who wanted their money back from Honda for "overstated" fuel mileage estimates weren't trying. Again, like my revelation regarding my own health, they're abdicating responsibility to entities outside themselves, another instance of the pop-a-pill mentality, that there is a quick, painless solution to every little ill and you don't need to invest time or energy on your own part to keep things performing at some arbitrary level.
I work at my mileage numbers. My truck is currently below 30mpg and that just galls me. Am I working at dragging that back up, you'd better believe it. It has held a moving average over 32mpg in the past, and I want it back up there, pronto. The tough part is that sometimes Son #2 - the only other one in the family with an interest in hypermiling - works a mere three miles away. Right about the time the engine is getting warm and starting to deliver good economy, he's parked.
Breakfast this morning: some backsliding. But the Panera cinnamon rolls are soooo good. Ye gods, look at all those calories. Well, I guess that's enough of that.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
The Personal Epiphany of Health Care
The Merriam Webster online dictionary defines "epiphany," besides the obvious Judeo-Christian meaning, as a moment of sudden understand in a new or clear way.
Sitting at the pharmacy drive-through window, hearing that the doctor's office had failed to call back to confirm a refill request on my blood pressure pill, I came to a moment of sudden understanding in a new and clear way. I had ceded responsibility for my own health.
At 46 years old, I'm about 5-10 and right at 190 pounds. That's a little heavier than I like. In fact, it's a lot heavier than I like because I can remember being much younger, a shade taller and about fifty pounds lighter. Granted this height at 140 is pretty skinny, but this height at 170 felt great. I could run, jump, lift heavy things, all that stuff. I could fit into 34-inch-waist pants. There haven't been any 34" pants in my bureau for a while now.
Now that I'm in 36" pants and sometimes sucking in a bit to get them snapped, I have been feeling a bit depressed. It takes extra effort to get off the couch and walk around the block, it takes a certain amount of will to say "no" to the second bowl of chili that is just so good but I don't actually need it. It takes a certain combination of pessimism and optimism, pessimism that even though I am happy in the moment of the second bowl, in the morning I will be unhappy when I cannot get the pants snapped, optimism that nothing is irreversible. I don't have to be stuck at 190, I may have trouble snapping the pants now but that doesn't have to be permanent.
One day, I can get back into 34" jeans.
I am certain that a fair portion of my need for a prescription medication to control my blood pressure is, at least in part, my weight. And there I was, fuming at the back of my mind that for whatever reason, my doctor hadn't called in the refill. Now, I know that weight isn't everything and that skinny people have high blood pressure, too. But I also know that weight is a contributing factor in a lot of cases, and it's a factor over which I have complete control. But I wasn't controlling it, and harboring a quiet anger toward my doctor when, in fact, I could actually take positive steps to eliminate my doctor's influence on my health and, by extension, my peace of mind. It doesn't feel good to have something so basic held in control by someone else.
So here I am now, stating these facts:
Day 1 (Monday 05/05/14)
Weight: 189 pounds. I had a ham-egg-cheese sandwich for breakfast, missed lunch, cold cut sandwich for dinner. Spicy pickle relish on the sandwich, big flavor, small calories.
Walked around the block, lifted a few modest weights. 15-lb dumbbells, 3x10. Sit-ups and push-ups. I hate push-ups. But I'm not keen on man-boobs either, so push-ups it is.
Day 2 (Tuesday 05/06/2014)
No weight. Scrambled eggs for breakfast, large hoagie at lunch. Green beans, onion, corn on the cob and smoked sausage for dinner. Tasty! Went easy on the butter, counter to my instincts. My big thing about the butter is the salty taste, so I salted the corn instead. That worked great. Walked around the block. No workout at all.
Day 3 (Wednesday 05/07/2014)
Weight 188. We're on our way! Breakfast at Chick-Fil-A. Skipped the fries. Lunch was leftover from dinner, no corn. Delicious.
That's it for the moment. It's the middle of my workday so I'll follow up. I'm determined to actually beat this thing. I'm not grossly obese or in terrible condition, but I can feel myself becoming more complacent. More than anything else, that complacency is the most dangerous part. I don't think it's good to be comfortable with having surrendered so much of my own life to the control of others, and I intend to take it back.
Sitting at the pharmacy drive-through window, hearing that the doctor's office had failed to call back to confirm a refill request on my blood pressure pill, I came to a moment of sudden understanding in a new and clear way. I had ceded responsibility for my own health.
At 46 years old, I'm about 5-10 and right at 190 pounds. That's a little heavier than I like. In fact, it's a lot heavier than I like because I can remember being much younger, a shade taller and about fifty pounds lighter. Granted this height at 140 is pretty skinny, but this height at 170 felt great. I could run, jump, lift heavy things, all that stuff. I could fit into 34-inch-waist pants. There haven't been any 34" pants in my bureau for a while now.
Now that I'm in 36" pants and sometimes sucking in a bit to get them snapped, I have been feeling a bit depressed. It takes extra effort to get off the couch and walk around the block, it takes a certain amount of will to say "no" to the second bowl of chili that is just so good but I don't actually need it. It takes a certain combination of pessimism and optimism, pessimism that even though I am happy in the moment of the second bowl, in the morning I will be unhappy when I cannot get the pants snapped, optimism that nothing is irreversible. I don't have to be stuck at 190, I may have trouble snapping the pants now but that doesn't have to be permanent.
One day, I can get back into 34" jeans.
I am certain that a fair portion of my need for a prescription medication to control my blood pressure is, at least in part, my weight. And there I was, fuming at the back of my mind that for whatever reason, my doctor hadn't called in the refill. Now, I know that weight isn't everything and that skinny people have high blood pressure, too. But I also know that weight is a contributing factor in a lot of cases, and it's a factor over which I have complete control. But I wasn't controlling it, and harboring a quiet anger toward my doctor when, in fact, I could actually take positive steps to eliminate my doctor's influence on my health and, by extension, my peace of mind. It doesn't feel good to have something so basic held in control by someone else.
So here I am now, stating these facts:
Day 1 (Monday 05/05/14)
Weight: 189 pounds. I had a ham-egg-cheese sandwich for breakfast, missed lunch, cold cut sandwich for dinner. Spicy pickle relish on the sandwich, big flavor, small calories.
Walked around the block, lifted a few modest weights. 15-lb dumbbells, 3x10. Sit-ups and push-ups. I hate push-ups. But I'm not keen on man-boobs either, so push-ups it is.
Day 2 (Tuesday 05/06/2014)
No weight. Scrambled eggs for breakfast, large hoagie at lunch. Green beans, onion, corn on the cob and smoked sausage for dinner. Tasty! Went easy on the butter, counter to my instincts. My big thing about the butter is the salty taste, so I salted the corn instead. That worked great. Walked around the block. No workout at all.
Day 3 (Wednesday 05/07/2014)
Weight 188. We're on our way! Breakfast at Chick-Fil-A. Skipped the fries. Lunch was leftover from dinner, no corn. Delicious.
That's it for the moment. It's the middle of my workday so I'll follow up. I'm determined to actually beat this thing. I'm not grossly obese or in terrible condition, but I can feel myself becoming more complacent. More than anything else, that complacency is the most dangerous part. I don't think it's good to be comfortable with having surrendered so much of my own life to the control of others, and I intend to take it back.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Regarding the Death Penalty: An Open Letter to the US Government
I've said it before: the death penalty is bad.
There are people who really shouldn't be walking the earth with good, law-abiding citizens. Those bad people cannot be trusted to respects the rights of others: they kill, they terrorize, they place their own wants - not needs, wants - above the needs of others. This last sounds trite but I'm talking about killers. Invariably, killers.
And possibly rapists. It's hard to get around rape, too.
And while I don't think people like that should be permitted to live around other, non-criminal people, I don't think it should be up to the law-abiding citizens to kill them. I'm not as concerned about the criminal as I am about the person who is supposed to carry out the death penalty upon that criminal.
When a condemned man is put to death, the medical examiner of the governing body where the execution took place lists the cause of death as "homicide." Which is to say, some other person killed this one. Through careful phrasing, those other people are absolved of the title that usually goes with committing homicide: murderer.
Clayton Lockett of MacAlester, Oklahoma was on the slab last night with a tube in his arm when something went wrong. Lockett was being executed for a terrible murder in 1999. I won't argue with the decision to rid the world of him, he was a terrible person. The sedative flowing into him failed, but the paralytic and respiratory suppressant drugs he was receiving continued. Those last two are known to be agonizing without adequate sedation.
Lockett died anyway of a heart attack, after about a half-hour. A properly performed lethal injection execution gets the job done in just a few minutes. The victim falls asleep and dies. This was not as simple as that.
When officials noticed things going wrong - Lockett struggling to rise from the table, regaining consciousness and mumbling - they pulled a curtain to block witnesses from seeing. That's a bit ironic, that it's okay to watch the man die but not to watch him suffer. It's obvious why it's not okay, of course. Seeing other people suffer hurts the watcher, too - usually. Certain pathologies react differently.
So, suddenly, it was NOT okay to watch the man die. And now, in the wake of what has happened, another execution scheduled for the same night has been put on hold. It would be unacceptable to kill a man in the wrong way, evidently. As technology and American culture has progressed, we have sought more and more humane ways to put people to death, to end their lives as gently as possible. We don't want to hurt the condemned, just get rid of them without causing them pain.
If we are a nation that holds life so dear, to spend billions of dollars on health care, to command assorted manufacturers to make their products safer for users, to acquiesce to other manufacturers that demand we not use their products to put condemned prisoners to death, then why do we kill condemned prisoners at all? In this one small pocket of cognitive dissonance we are bloodthirsty and unforgiving.
As he laying gasping, one wonders what the instincts are. Mr. Lockett was condemned to die, but now with the procedure going awry, were the attending medical personnel inclined to save him? The execution was supposed to happen in a certain way, a way that wouldn't unnecessary hurt him - his terrible crime was dreadful and all the fires of Hell may not be punishment enough, but that isn't for us to decide, so we're supposed to be as gentle as possible even as we hasten the heart's final beat. But he suffered, absolutely. He isn't even the first.
I submit to the entire United States government that our penchant for killing our own nation's criminals, however bad their crimes, makes us all party to systemic murder, adherents to a policy of death-dealing. The associated costs of keeping a condemned man in prison until his execution are already well known, much, much higher than for a non-condemned man. Looking at the situation from a coldly economic standpoint, on that basis alone killing condemned prisoners is unsupportable.
And worse yet, innocent men get executed too. Even one is too many. The only way to be absolutely certain that the United States, and by extension, all Americans, is innocent of unnecessarily killing an innocent person is to never kill another prisoner again. Stop now and forever.
These deaths that are carried out, ostensibly in my name as well as the name of every other upstanding citizen, weigh upon me. They bear down with a load that I do not want. Don't kill for me.
There are people who really shouldn't be walking the earth with good, law-abiding citizens. Those bad people cannot be trusted to respects the rights of others: they kill, they terrorize, they place their own wants - not needs, wants - above the needs of others. This last sounds trite but I'm talking about killers. Invariably, killers.
And possibly rapists. It's hard to get around rape, too.
And while I don't think people like that should be permitted to live around other, non-criminal people, I don't think it should be up to the law-abiding citizens to kill them. I'm not as concerned about the criminal as I am about the person who is supposed to carry out the death penalty upon that criminal.
When a condemned man is put to death, the medical examiner of the governing body where the execution took place lists the cause of death as "homicide." Which is to say, some other person killed this one. Through careful phrasing, those other people are absolved of the title that usually goes with committing homicide: murderer.
Clayton Lockett of MacAlester, Oklahoma was on the slab last night with a tube in his arm when something went wrong. Lockett was being executed for a terrible murder in 1999. I won't argue with the decision to rid the world of him, he was a terrible person. The sedative flowing into him failed, but the paralytic and respiratory suppressant drugs he was receiving continued. Those last two are known to be agonizing without adequate sedation.
Lockett died anyway of a heart attack, after about a half-hour. A properly performed lethal injection execution gets the job done in just a few minutes. The victim falls asleep and dies. This was not as simple as that.
When officials noticed things going wrong - Lockett struggling to rise from the table, regaining consciousness and mumbling - they pulled a curtain to block witnesses from seeing. That's a bit ironic, that it's okay to watch the man die but not to watch him suffer. It's obvious why it's not okay, of course. Seeing other people suffer hurts the watcher, too - usually. Certain pathologies react differently.
So, suddenly, it was NOT okay to watch the man die. And now, in the wake of what has happened, another execution scheduled for the same night has been put on hold. It would be unacceptable to kill a man in the wrong way, evidently. As technology and American culture has progressed, we have sought more and more humane ways to put people to death, to end their lives as gently as possible. We don't want to hurt the condemned, just get rid of them without causing them pain.
If we are a nation that holds life so dear, to spend billions of dollars on health care, to command assorted manufacturers to make their products safer for users, to acquiesce to other manufacturers that demand we not use their products to put condemned prisoners to death, then why do we kill condemned prisoners at all? In this one small pocket of cognitive dissonance we are bloodthirsty and unforgiving.
As he laying gasping, one wonders what the instincts are. Mr. Lockett was condemned to die, but now with the procedure going awry, were the attending medical personnel inclined to save him? The execution was supposed to happen in a certain way, a way that wouldn't unnecessary hurt him - his terrible crime was dreadful and all the fires of Hell may not be punishment enough, but that isn't for us to decide, so we're supposed to be as gentle as possible even as we hasten the heart's final beat. But he suffered, absolutely. He isn't even the first.
I submit to the entire United States government that our penchant for killing our own nation's criminals, however bad their crimes, makes us all party to systemic murder, adherents to a policy of death-dealing. The associated costs of keeping a condemned man in prison until his execution are already well known, much, much higher than for a non-condemned man. Looking at the situation from a coldly economic standpoint, on that basis alone killing condemned prisoners is unsupportable.
And worse yet, innocent men get executed too. Even one is too many. The only way to be absolutely certain that the United States, and by extension, all Americans, is innocent of unnecessarily killing an innocent person is to never kill another prisoner again. Stop now and forever.
These deaths that are carried out, ostensibly in my name as well as the name of every other upstanding citizen, weigh upon me. They bear down with a load that I do not want. Don't kill for me.
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Stuff Worth Owning: Trü Pickles (mostly)
I found these bad boys just a few weeks ago.
Once again, I happened upon them while wandering the aisles at Ace Hardware. I don't know if any of you have noticed, but it looks to me like Ace Hardware is on a tear lately. It may not seem that way nationwide but it sure looks like that in East Tennessee.
Near me are three Ace Hardware stores. One replaced a failed unit in downtown Clinton. I'm not surprised it failed; if you don't sell antiques from your store in downtown Clinton, well, you're in the wrong place. Another landed in Halls, nicely coinciding with the Walmart upping stakes and moving out of its former location. Walmart didn't go far, it is almost literally within sight of its former location, but it's just a wee bit further up the road. Why they went there, I can't fathom. But it's farther out of Halls, leaving folks in that little suburb that much more hard up for retail options. And another sprang up in the void left by the eventual dissolution of what had been the indefatigable Parker Brothers Hardware in Knoxville. Each one is compact, dense, and covers a pretty broad range of products. I love 'em.
So I was shopping for some wood stove door gaskets and cement. No problemo, I knew without even asking that Ace would have it. And on my way toward the door, I saw...
Near me are three Ace Hardware stores. One replaced a failed unit in downtown Clinton. I'm not surprised it failed; if you don't sell antiques from your store in downtown Clinton, well, you're in the wrong place. Another landed in Halls, nicely coinciding with the Walmart upping stakes and moving out of its former location. Walmart didn't go far, it is almost literally within sight of its former location, but it's just a wee bit further up the road. Why they went there, I can't fathom. But it's farther out of Halls, leaving folks in that little suburb that much more hard up for retail options. And another sprang up in the void left by the eventual dissolution of what had been the indefatigable Parker Brothers Hardware in Knoxville. Each one is compact, dense, and covers a pretty broad range of products. I love 'em.
So I was shopping for some wood stove door gaskets and cement. No problemo, I knew without even asking that Ace would have it. And on my way toward the door, I saw...
this
Being a fan of pickles I naturally snatched one up and plunked it on the counter beside my coil of fiberglass gasket and high temperature cement. I got 'em home, chilled 'em for an hour or three in the fridge, cracked 'em open.
They are amazing. These are some seriously good pickles. They're too spicy for some folks, Sweetie doesn't care for them on that basis alone, allowing that they are very tasty but far too spicy to suit her. That means they're all for me! No, wait, it doesn't. Son #1 also enjoys a mean pickle and we shared the jar. That didn't take long.
They're pricey, but they are so worth it.
Then, a couple days ago, I found these:
Smoked Black Pepper Pickles! Even spicier! So they're going to be great, right?
Wrong. There's a distinct black pepper flavor all right, but the most prevalent flavor coming out of this is mulch.
I'm not kidding. It took me a bite or three to figure it out, but this tastes more like compost than anything else. Wondering if I'd chanced upon one that just hadn't been quite right, I tried another. I think it must be the smoke flavor that's added, but they're dreadful. Maybe it's like cilantro with some people: most people have no trouble with cilantro but some say it tastes just like Palmolive. I hate to say it, but I've actually happened across a food item that I refuse to finish. I'm throwing them out.
I'm one of those people who says cilantro tastes like dish detergent. Maybe the problem is me?
But be not dismayed, Trü! I'm coming back. Those first pickles were fabulous. Sweetie may love the bread and butter pickles. I know I won't but that's just me - I can't stand sweet pickles. Can't please everybody.
A little sweet pickle relish in my deviled eggs, however, is crucial to a full and happy life. So even I can find use for sweet pickles.
I could dig into the question of whether you're going to "own" food. You take it in, take it apart for nutrients, and a fair portion - all of it, pretty much - eventually gets excreted back out. Anyway. Those kosher dills are fantastic and I highly recommend them.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Irony in the News
"Human Barbie" thinks interracial couples make ugly babies.
...and this individual is a good judge of beauty?
For comparison, a "composite woman" from the cover of Time Magazine:
As a typical, heterosexual male with more-or-less middle class standards, I find the second woman extremely appealing on many levels. The fact that that woman doesn't actually exist is beside the point, my point is that the image is the result of combining hundreds of faces. Those faces are from many different races, many colors, many shapes, and we can clearly see that when you put all those things together, what you get looks pretty good. And the first woman, Valeria Lukyanova, is freakish. Ms. Lukyanova claims to come from a place where "only joy and love exist," and I, for one, recommend she go back to that place and stay there.
She also says she has only had her boobs enhanced. Yeah. Not falling for that, either.
Russia is in Ukraine to assure peace
Sure thing, Vlad. We're all buying that. We're totally convinced the 90+% "yea" vote on Russian annexation of Crimea was on the up-and-up, too.
Click that link. Look at those happy faces. How many of them do you think were paid to look that happy?
Archie Andrews Must Die!
For those who might wonder at how that might be ironic, consider this: the publishing company is called Archie Comics. Killing off the title character could be considered shooting oneself in the foot, or perhaps the head.
It's not quite as apocalyptic as it seems. "Life with Archie" has been a what-if kind of title, like DC Comics' own "Elseworlds" line wherein familiar characters are dropped into environments and storylines far different from the mainstream, regular comics. The infant Kal-El of Krypton, for instance, raised as the son of the Wayne family and growing up to become a Super Batman.
Usually comics move along in a sort of timeless purgatory, living years over and over but the as the years move forward, the characters stay put. Lately that has required a string of "reboots" in the DC panoply in particular and I, for one, am well and truly sick of it. I am suffering from reboot fatigue and divesting myself of my large comic collection. But Life With Archie was different, Archie and the gang got older, became adults and had to deal with adult problems.
So this will bring an end to the what-if side of things. Archie Andrews, perennial teenager, icon who moves through the years without being entirely affected by them, will go on.
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