Blast from the Past - Door goes up, door goes down. Door goes up, door goes down.

(Originally published June 2007)

Ah, the joys of summer.  Nothing like trying to fix a garage door in 5000% humidity.  I left for work early today, gung-ho to get a small project done while it was still quiet there.  Sadly, I was dry for a whopping seven minutes this morning before the fun began.  I opened the garage to get the garbage can, only to find my newly-hung fluorescent shop light (they hum like angels!) dangling precariously above Buttercup, one of my new ceiling hooks clattering across the floor.  Crisis averted and light removed from the danger zone (cue Top Gun theme).

Garbage delivered safely to the curb, soda retrieved from the fridge, I was ready to be on my way, and even be to work early today, when I attempted to close the garage door.  Half-way down, I got a 'brzzrt-thud-thud-whirrrrrrr' as the safety switch kicked in and reversed the door.  Hmm.  Interesting.  I hit the button again, only to have the same result.  On further inspection, I noted that one of the two cables (or 50% of them for you math buffs) was no longer an active participant in the spring-and-pulley show, and the door was landing askew.  I wound the cable and tried to slot the end into the pulley, at which time the cable unwound.  About this time I decided wearing gloves MIGHT be a good idea, rather than filling my hands with oily metal shavings.  I slotted the end into the pulley and then wound the cable around, and it unwound.  I finally loosened the pulley, MOVED the slot to where it would actually reach, then wound the cable and tightened the pulley again.

Success!  Almost.

This time instead of half-way down, I got to within a foot of the ground before 'brzzrt-thud-thud-whirrrrrrr'.  I released the safety catch on the opener, re-tightened the cable, then tried closing it again.  I think I got about  30 'brzzrt-thud-thud-whirrrrrrr's before I got within inches of the ground.  One more tightening, one more  'brzzrt-thud-thud-whirrrrrrr'.

I unlocked the side door to the garage, since it only locks from the inside, and opened the big door again, then dropped it to the ground without the opener attached.  One final tighten, and now the door goes up, the door goes down.  Door goes up, door goes down.

And if you've ever been thrown into a pool with all your clothes on, just imagine that pool being bathwater warm and extremely salty.  That's how I felt by the time this was all done.  It should go without saying that I was NOT early for work.

Random Acts of Thursday - The Fun Fact Fat Guy Film Finds Foodipalooza

Merry Christmas, kids!  Happy holidays, as well, should you not be of the Christmas ilk.  Winter is upon us and it's time once again for our annual trivial trivia giveaway!  We're currently driving to Wisconsin to be among family and friends for the holiday weekend.

Last year, Nej took top honors and in return, wrote a stellar review of her prize.  You could be next!  Just be the winner of the following scavenger hunt of facts and you could soon be the proud owner of greatness.

This year, first prize is one of a selection of fine art photographs, matted and framed, by Lori Mason Photography.  These works have a retail value of $75, but a current overstock due to our recent relocation means we can offer one of these to you to display proudly in your home or office.  There are a lot of different images, and if you win we'll send you a preview gallery to choose from.    

Second prize is your choice of classic films, all discussed at some point here at Ye Olde CDSe.




First, Leone's classic 'A Fistful of Dollars', a remake of 'Yojimbo!'.





 










Second, one of Hitchcock's pre-Hollywood films, 'The 39 Steps'.












Or, you can choose 'The Station Agent', one of my modern favorites.













Finally, third prize is that ever popular meat candy, BACON.  Just because it's third doesn't make it less important.  This year, it's Hungarian smoked bacon, enough for two beautiful BLT's or a hell of a lot of bean soup.  You could also opt for Wisconsin-made Nueske's if you'd like your bacon pre-sliced.  This stuff is great under the broiler, and has the true bacon flavor that seems to be missing from many of the store brands.  I fried some of this up to add to a cremini-cheddar risotto last weekend, good stuff.

Now, on to the quiz.  We grade on a curve here at CDS Enterprises, and some of these questions will take some work and creative thinking.  Since many of the questions relate to the previous answer, working in order might be better for all involved.

1) Name two films that featured two future state governors.

2) Name another that featured one future governor and a chimp.

3) Hal Holbrook has never been a governor.  Hal Holbrook has never been president either, but he's played two on TV as well as helping to topple a third in film.  Name two films where his good-guy role turns out to be a front, and he's exposed as the villain (Scooby-Doo style, if you will.)

4) Speaking of Scooby Doo (in an offhand sort of way), explain the significance of September 14, 1985 in music history.  (It has to do, marginally, with the Pointer Sisters and one of their 'upbeat' songs, if that helps.  It went to eleven.)

5) Also on that day, one of the greatest premieres in all of television occurred.  The theme song was originally released by Andrew Gold in 1978.  Name two films to feature Gold's previous hit, 'Lonely Boy'

6) Now that you're all sexed up thinking about the television show mentioned above, maybe thinking about baseball would help.  Who followed Jimmy Blake to the plate, possibly in Massachusetts but just as possibly in California, depending upon who you believe?

7) Speaking of geography, how far is Winnipeg from Montreal? 

8) Who told you that distance?

9) Why is that distance in miles instead of kilometers?  Burma!

(Sorry, I panicked.  I'm not Doctor bloody Bernofsky, you know.)

10) What do they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in France?

11) Finally, which actress was born on the anniversary of the Mexican Revolution, and became a global sensation after starring in one of the great films written and directed by the late Blake Edwards?

Ten questions would have been enough, but this quiz goes to eleven (like the Pointer Sisters).  Eleven answers would be impressive, eleven correct would be even better! 

To keep things fair and above-board, please email your answers here to avoid anyone using your answers to better their cause.

Winners will be announced January 1st, so get cracking!  (No pun intended, I just liked the picture...)

Same As It Ever Was

As I woke this morning, bleary-eyed and still unsure of my surroundings, the day didn't feel any different from others. Cool, rainy, a perfect day to sleep in while the rest of the family goes off to do their things, while I loll about, eating cake for breakfast and wishing I could work on the projects around the home for which I took off the entire week.  Because we just moved, I did NOT take the second week of May as vacation this year.



It's almost always cold and rainy this week in May, I know this because for many, many years I have taken this week off, in an attempt to ignore our culture of celebrating the aging process so blatantly. I didn't do that this year, this year I faced my aging head-on, and it went remarkably well, I suppose. There were no balloons and confetti in my office, no gibes about my creaking bones as today I achieve the near pinnacle of agedness, I 'turned' 39.

This is not my beautiful car...

It really didn't click over like a cheap odometer, or a 1974 clock radio with the flappy numbers, it just kind of happened. It arrived like so many other days, and as I've passed the years, the days seem less and less significant.


Most recently, I celebrated my 30th. I actually made a point to plan an outdoor picnic for family and friends, a day spent in the park playing volleyball and grilling red meat. Prior to that, I may have celebrated my 12th birthday, with some minor fanfare for the 15th and an impromptu cake-and-candling by my college roommate at 20. Otherwise, I have made every effort to ignore the day, letting it pass like 364 of its brethren.


Today, I found it difficult to tie my shoes. One might blame this on age, but I doubt it. More than likely, I can't tie my shoes due to my mass. Weight, like age, is just a number. A much larger number.

When I was young I set goals and dreams based on age. I thought that by 25, I'd have a job I loved, a career. I'd have a wife and kids, a home in the country. Twenty-five came and went. That subsequent year, time passed and I wasn't sure how to handle that goal lost. I hit 26. No big deal, but when 27 rolled around, I was devastated. No family. Every day going to work was a crushing weight. And while I'd been in my apartment for a few years, that hardly passed for a country estate.

This is my beautiful wife...

Not quite eleven years ago, I met Lori. Shortly thereafter, I met her daughters. Our relationship grew slowly, ever slowly, and since I'd given up my expiration-dated dreams, I fought the relationship for a while. But now, I have a beautiful wife. Beautiful daughters. A large luxury automobile. (Where does that highway go to? Under the water, carry the water.) Six weeks ago, I started a new job, one for which I'm so excited by the possibilities I can hardly contain myself. No home in the country, but it is a beautiful house.

This is me, barely containing myself...

So there you have it. Empirical evidence that 39 is the new 25.  Now I just need a giant suit.

Deja Vu All Over Again

Oh, dear reader, how I've missed you.  It's been a busy week at Chez NFG, what with the packing and the unpacking and the driving and such.  N'glavin. 

For anyone who doesn't already know, we're now Ohioans by residence, if not yet legally. (Still featuring America's Wang on the license plates and driver's licenses.  Can't do everything at once, you know....)  I've been working here, off and on, for the last six weeks, we're finally permanently ensconced.  No more hotel pillows for me, thank you.

Somewhere in the midst of this, I passed the 50-mark on subscribers to this little queso-centric world o' mine, so I thank each and every one of you kiddoes, my dear, dedicated readers.  You deserve so much better, you really do, so I'm gracious for every little word you choose to read here.  We'll get this train back on track soon enough.  I've been dreaming up new quizzes, and there are pictures and stories to share.  (And I'll be here when the day is new, and I'll have more ideas for you.)

Our movers were great, and ask and ye shall receive, we had the same driver that moved us to Florida back in '07.  Mike is a wonderful guy, and seeing that big white and yellow truck in front of the house brought back memories.  He recognized many of the boxes crushed by our previous move, boxes that never got unpacked in 2 1/2 years.  We even happened to pass him a few times on the road, and stopped at the same rest area for lunch so chatted for a little while.  Not that I could hear my phone ring in the car, but he also called to warn us about some impending road construction while he was ahead of us.  I have no desire to participate in another cross-country move any time soon, but he's the go-to guy if change rears its difficult head at us again.

Moving also meant new discoveries.  When Lori moved a shelf in our old living room, she found a mummified frog, a remnant of the frosty winter we had in Florida. 

We had a few stowaways, lizards that haven't quite come to terms with the sudden temperature shift.  One hitched a ride inside the rim of my potted rosemary bush, and the other managed to stow away inside Lori's desk.  It was 95 degrees the day our movers packed the truck down in Florida, and the last few days here have been in the low 40's with rain and hail.  Sucks to be cold-blooded, apparently.  Though I'll take lizards over cockroaches "palmetto bugs" any day.

Made our first meal in the new kitchen last night, herb-stuffed chicken breasts with a roasted beef marrow risotto.  Worked out very nicely, though I still need to fine-tune the location of some of the more popular utensils.  Oh, and we still need to find the box with all of our flatware. 

The dammit is transitioning as well as can be expected, he seems to recall quite well what the bark collar does.  He may have a few more bouts of collar-wearing until he figures out on his own that there's nothing to bark at (except the giant squirrels).  Hopefully he figures that out before he figures out the battery's been dead for three years.

And after more than a month spent sleeping in rented beds, air mattresses and the floor, I'm glad to be back in my own bed again, this time for more than a few days at a crack.  And despite Lori's flagrant use of earplugs for dramatic effect, I know she missed my snoring over the last month.  I'm sure of it.  Just ask her.  No, wait, don't ask.   Just trust me, she's fine with it.

Really.

Check it out...

I may have mentioned, once or twice, that Lori is a photographer, something she pursues with great passion and talent. She recently started a '365 Days of Photos' project on her blog, and last week we moseyed out to the fairgrounds to get a night shot of the Cavalia circus tent.
Between posting that shot Monday night and checking her email Tuesday morning, Cavalia's national marketing firm (based here in Tampa) saw the shot and invited her to today's press review. This meant an almost private performance, and she was in heaven.

Go check her blog. Check it now. And don't be afraid to follow her, you'll be rewarded every day. Go!

Dinnertime - Low and slow, that is the tempo

Mmmm, Crockpottery goodness. Sometimes (often times, I suppose) simple meals are the best. Last night's dinner was no exception. It's 'cold' here in Florida, and the occasional tang of woodsmoke in the air just adds to that wintry feeling. I love comfort foods, slow-cooked meats and the unctuous mouthfeel of melted fat. Add to that a bottle of very nice wine and my Bitsy Pookums, and dinner was incredible. This is a little more involved than some crock-pot dishes, but well worth that last half hour of work, trust me.

In the morning, combine the following in your crock pot:

4# chuck roast
4 cups carrots, peeled and cut to bite-size
8 branches of fresh rosemary
1 unpacked cup flatleaf parsley (I just grabbed a handful off the bunch)
4 cloves garlic, slivered
1 cup slivered onions
1/2 cup red wine
1 Tbsp celery salt, sprinkled on roast
Salt & Pepper

Turn the slow cooker on low heat for seven or eight hours. When you're ready to finish the meal, you will need:

8-10 pearl onions
4 cups rough-chopped mushrooms (I used cremini, shiitake, and oyster)
2 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup red wine now
3-4 Tbsp flour
4 cups beef juices, divided (from the slow cooker, add water to supplement)
3 cups frozen baby peas, thawed
1/4 cup red wine later

Pierce the onions with a paring knife right next to the root end. Add to boiling water and boil for 10 minutes or until tender. My Julia Child trick, the piercing. I watched her belittle Jacques Pepin on national television for not piercing the onions, as they will expand uncontrollably without that release point. Drain and cool in ice water. Remove the root end and outer layers of the onions and reserve.

In a heavy saute pan, melt butter with olive oil until bubbling. Once bubbling subsides, add chopped mushrooms. You will want larger pieces, as they will cook down and you don't want them dwarfed by the other vegetables.

Something I learned about mushrooms that makes me very happy. DON'T TOUCH THEM. Let them sizzle away in one spot until you just can't take it anymore, then toss them. This allows them to take on a beautiful golden-brown crispiness instead of just steaming down. Do it. You will be rewarded.

Once the mushrooms are golden brown, add the pearl onions to the pan to allow them to soak up that delicious color. Sprinkle with two tablespoons of flour, and cook until flour has all but disappeared in the pan. Add 1/2 cup of red wine, and cook until all moisture is gone. Add half of the juices from the roast and stir, you'll see the sauce thicken. Because I don't separate the fat from the juices, this fat will rise to the top of the pan. Gauge this and measure 1-2 tablespoons of additional flour into a sealed container, then add the remainder of the juices and create a slurry by shaking the container vigorously. Add this to the saute pan and allow to simmer.

Remove the roast from the slow cooker and allow to rest, covered. Retrieve the carrots from the slow cooker and add to saute pan. Just before serving, add remaining wine and the peas to the saute pan and stir to combine. Spoon the sauce over shredded beef.

I love the egg noodles with this, but you can also serve over mashed or boiled potatoes. Parsnips and rutabaga would also be a nice addition. This makes four healthy portions, and you can adjust depending on the size of roast you buy.

As for the wine:

I had an open bottle of shiraz in the refrigerator, a Mollydooker Boxer if you must know. Thanks to early experiences and this Monty Python sketch, I've shied away from the Australians. The Mollydooker, when I opened it very long ago, was slightly reminiscent of cough medicine, so syrupy it was. But it still worked for cooking. From the same friend as the Mollydooker, I had an '05 Midnight Run Crow Eater, a blend of shiraz and grenache that was much friendlier than a full syrah. It was a bright, high-alcohol wine, and really stood out with the luscious earthiness of dinner. Certainly one of the best bottles we've had in a while.

Rodgers and Hammerstein never saw it coming

As a child, the Wisconsin State Fair was always about the animals, and the WonderKnife demos, corn on the cob and then the cream puffs. I don't even remember eating anything else there as a kid, except for the one time I thought fried rice from a trailer seemed like a good idea.

It wasn't.

This year, we decided we should make the effort to make it to the Florida State Fair, it being, presumably, our last year in Florida. What we encountered was light years from anything either Lori or I have ever seen in our lives.

Wisconsin holds their state fair in August, a nice, summery month where we can wear shorts and enjoy cool lemonade and not get hypothermia. Florida, contrary to popular northern belief (or at least mine), is not this way twelve months a year. What started out as a tolerable 55 degree day descended quickly to 40 when the sun dropped. Thankfully, we were dressed for it. Our parents raised us well, and Wisconsin weather means you ALWAYS expect it to be colder than you think it could ever get.The fair did have the original Batcopter, and for $30 apiece you could get a 45-second ride around the fairgrounds. Sorry, but unless I actually get to use the Shark Repellent Bat Spray, it's not worth $3, let alone $30. They had removed the wings, too, so it wasn't until we were right up at the booth that we even knew it was anything other than an ordinary helicopter.

Upon entering the fairgrounds, though, the first thing we encountered was Cracker Country. The purpose of the exhibit is to preserve and celebrate Florida's rural pioneer heritage. Am I the only one who thinks this might be a wee bit racist? Just me? Okay, then. Old turn-of-the-century buildings, craftspeople, overpriced touristy crap, ideal. Kind of like Old World Wisconsin, only without the diversity. I must admit, it was tempting to send our friend Bob, the whitest white guy I know, a postcard from the Cracker Country post office.Once out of Cracker Country (and am I the only person relieved they elected to keep the traditional spelling?), we emerged into the sea of food stands that comprises about 80% of the remaining fairgrounds. If it can be deep-fried, you can buy it from about 200 different vendors. Elephant ears and funnel cakes shared space with the more modern deep-fried Oreos and Twinkies, and the 18" corndogs shared their batter-dipped goodness with Swedish meatballs, bratwurst, Polish sausage and more. The fried green tomatoes were excellent, but I didn't try the deep-fried pickles from any of the vendors offering them up. Fried cookie dough, battered and fryolated bacon, fried butter, Hostess cupcakes, Ringdings, Mars bars, Pepsi Cola, potatoes both French- and spiral-cut, tons of pizza, tacos in a bag, barbecue from all regions of this fair nation, strawberry pies, shortcake, cheesecake (which could also be had deep-fried or chocolate-dipped on a stick), and grilled Italian, German and Polish sausages with peppers and onions, cheesesteaks, and a vendor making a killing selling cheap frozen burgers, fried and mashed into a Krispy Kreme donut for $6.50. For another $1.50, you could add cheese and bacon, but I will not sully my first Lutherburger experience by going on the cheap. Deli sandwiches from far and wide, including the ubiquitous Cuban. There were more turkey legs than I've ever seen, piled high next to grills and smokers. There was a pork chop on a stick. There was even the official 'Fried Wisconsin Cheese' wagon that usually graces the south entrance of the Wisconsin fairgrounds.

Disappointed was I, denied gator on a stick, denied any signature 'Florida Flavor', some gimmick that would suck me in for something unique, something that won't appear anywhere else.

Surprising, too, was the ratio of elements. Five Ferris wheels, but barely a sampling of livestock. Had we not been so tired from our six hours of wandering, we would have made it back to the freak show, with the world's tallest man, the gorilla girl, and one of the original Oompa Loompa's eating fire, all 39" of him. We missed the world's smallest horse, because I think $2 a person is too much to ask for a goat with a mane hot-glued to his head. There were funhouses and Whizzers and Himalayas and all manner of spinning, shaking nauseaters. When the nation's carnival companies winter in your back yard, I suppose there wouldn't be a shortage of rides, (ahem) scams, weight-guessers and side-show attractions, would there?

There were some animals, exotic chickens and lop-eared rabbits, goats and sheep and llamas and Watusi cattle and a six-day-old Guernsey calf, we saw a few horses but everything is so cordoned off, not like Wisconsin where we spent our childhoods walking right up to animals to pet them. We saw newborn piglets suckling with fury, fighting for prime position. They had exotic animals, wallabies and giraffes, frantic to eat the overpriced carrots being sold.

More than anything else, Lori and I got sucked into the mechanical bull riding tent. It's insane how much money this thing makes! $7 for your chance to ride the bull, for as long as you can or until the barker decides you've used your $7 wisely. Little kids, teens, grown men and women alike, $7. Make your eight seconds? You're done. Next? It was nice to see he was gentle with the little ones, let them enjoy themselves until they couldn't hang on any longer. Want a photo? That's another $7. Want a DVD of your eight seconds of glory to show to all your friends? $10. Lori and I watch for better than half an hour, for sure.

Every state fair should have one.

Movie Mania Monday - Where did you get those pants

Happy Monday, y'all! Congrats to S.B., who identified last week's quote from Thunderbolt and Lightfoot. How can you not love the 70's with shirts like these?
For that matter, how can you not love shirts like these? Ah, the dense unbreathability of polyester!

Nice weekend, hope each of you had a sappy little valentine's day. Lori and I spent a great weekend together, complete with a Friday date night, rare for us. Tomorrow you'll get to hear all about the Florida State Fair. It's quite the event, a champion's tournament of the deep-fried arts, let me tell you.

For now though, let's fire into the miasma that is Movie Mania Monday. If you're new here, there are some rules. First person to correctly identify the original source of the quote wins the peoples' ovation and fame forever, along with the title of Iron Quote-Guesser. No movie characters quoting other characters, but the original film source. No Googling, no asking Jeeves, no Bing (you'd have to dig him up), either you recognize the quote and know the source, or you wait on the sidelines for your turn. Snarky comments are welcome, but should be accompanied by a guess. This week's quote, an easy one:

"I can handle things, I'm smart. Not like everybody says. I'm not dumb, I'm smart!"

Allez guessing!

Random Acts of Thursday - It Takes Two

Lori made a brilliant home-baked version of a famous logoed chocolate sandwich cookie last night. She bought special cocoa just for such purpose, and the taste was surreal. The cookies were crisp, light and flaky, the filling just like you'd find in those 'store-bought' cookies, but better. Be jealous, because really, you're missing out.
But what you're not missing out on is all this movie-quizzin' fun! Lucked out there, didn't you?

Name Two Films...

1) ...based on board games

2) ...featuring characters named Chance

3) ...based upon video games, but that DON'T feature CGI

4) ...based on 'true stories of alien abduction'

5) ...starring Bill McKinney and Geoffrey Lewis

6) ...based in part on both Dashiell Hammett's book Red Harvest and the works of Akira Kurosawa

Certainly, I expect you to do some research. Can't all be simple, that's what Mondays are for. However, I'm only asking for two of each, and some of these categories have more than two correct answers.

If you want to list more than two, hoping it gets treated as extra credit, you may. Doesn't mean it will be. You want extra credit? Name two actors who starred in films in more than one of the above categories. This is tough, because if you don't guess the films I'm thinking of, it'll be more difficult to get the extra credit right, though again, more than two actors fit the bill here.
What do you want, a cookie?

You can't always be a winner in Vegas

I'm old. I'm 38 going on 83. I complain. I grouse. I drive slowly. I suddenly enjoy Barry Manilow music. I forget things, like the things I want to write for you, oh dear reader.

I wanted to tell you about our mini-vacation last weekend, a beautiful time in Nevada. But it just kept deteriorating into a full-blown old-man rant about unrelated and generally unimportant things, so this is the third draft.

To sum up, first, the Bad (so you'll end on a high note, like the French resistance!):

No free rental car upgrade. Skippy would have gladly charged me 50% more for a slightly larger car, but really, I'm not going to pay more for something I don't want to drive, when I'm already getting something I don't want to drive. The exception here is if the only car they had in my class was a PT Cruiser, I do have my limits. His response to me became the title.

No hotel reservation when we arrived at the hotel around midnight.

A nearly two-hour adventure in the hotel's only open restaurant in order to get our food. He comped us, apologized profusely, but when I haven't eaten in ten hours I don't really care. Bring me my bacon and eggs. If necessary, I'll cook it myself.

DFW is a monstrous airport, just allowing them to put connecting gates further apart, I suppose. It's an impressive feat of engineering, but how can you enjoy it when you have 20 minutes to travel to another time zone in the airport?

And really, can't we join hands across America to stop people from bringing their yippy dogs and screaming children on planes? I understand that children need to get places, too, I really do. But is it really a good idea to take them on the latest flight you can possibly find? Overtired children plus overtired me will get me banned from an airline some day, I'm sure of it.

Funny how travel takes everything out of you. As nice as the core of our trip was, seeing the strip and the mountains and everything between, the periphery of a trip can really take its toll. In fact, I know this is a lousy post, but hey, they can't all be winners.

The Good:

Believe it or not, my Ford Focus. The Ford Focus with the bad wheel bearing and jangling rattle in the door. Of course, I could have taken the Rondo, but we already know how I feel about that. Truth be told, though, if I were an economy car kind of guy, and wheel bearing aside, it was a zippy little car. Not much for offroading in the desert, but zippy nevertheless. I'd actually give this car a B, for what it was.

Had a nice Thanksgiving dinner at my boss' house with his family and friends, phenomenal wine that I could never afford myself and pumpkin pie. Mmmm, pie.

Had a great drive out to Red Rock Canyon, though we failed to see any of the wild burros they claimed were roaming the land. Because Friday was their busiest day of the year, filled with people avoiding the mall, they let us use Friday's receipt for admission again on Saturday. We went back in the morning, when the crowds were gone, and it was still stunning that something so wild could be so close to civilization. That just doesn't exist here in Florida.

Drove the strip, still quite the experience, we even drove past the 'civilized' areas and on to the cliched wedding chapels and motor lodges. It's important to have perspective.

Had some great Mexican food, first thing we've had that rivalled Jalisco's that didn't come from a truck by the side of the road. Though I love me some truck tacos.

Even though it was just a long weekend trip, we got to look at houses. There's some surprisingly affordable new construction out there.

And the best part of any vacation, returning home and sleeping in my own bed, with my own pillow, nestled against my sweetie.

Dreaming of luxe rental cars, posh new houses and wild burros.

I'm not witty enough to find a title that ties all this together

Just some random thoughts for the day and shameless links to my older stuff. I know you missed me, but it's proving to be a long busy week, and I just don't have much energy for this today, Wednesday being theme-free for me.

First, a hearty thank you to the men and women of our armed forces past and present who have given some, if not all, for this country. Enough said.
Second, I've started to load more blogginess to the Lori Mason Photography site (read: I've finally added something). Go. Look. Enjoy. It's not much yet, but it's certainly a start.
I just finished reading 'Red Alert' by Peter George. While it varies GREATLY from Kubrick's 'Dr. Strangelove', still a high-paced read, and really makes you think where we've come in the last 50 years.


Finally, here are a few things that amused me in the past week. First, for anyone who doesn't know, I train and support users of our Payroll/HR software. As much as I'd love this shirt, I don't think I could make it work, even on casual Friday.

What would you do?

Finally, I found this during my quest for images on last week's Fun Fact Friday.

I know I shouldn't find it amusing, but I do. But since God's put up with my sense of humor so far, I don't see this being the straw that breaks the camel's back. After all, I didn't make it, I just passed it along willy-nilly to the world population at large.

Speaking of 'willy-nilly', does anyone else wish they ran old 'Electric Company' reruns on Nick at Nite or some such show?

Oh, and I added a few new things to my page, including a little koi pond at the bottom of the page. If you clicky on it, you can feed the fishes. There's also a wine gadget that I added to the side, but I haven't figured out just how to make it work yet.

Finally: Remember, there's always time to submit a question to 'Ask The Nerdy Fat Guy'! You could be featured in a future column! Gain fame, fortune, notoriety!

I now return you to your regularly scheduled lives.

It's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care.

So I promised everyone over at Bev's place that I'd show you my official workspace, where I do the stuff that goes with that whole employment thing I have going on (and sometimes things like this that don't).


So here goes.

Yes, there are two cups on my desk. What you can't see behind the monitor are two water bottles and another cup. I'm down to one stress ball on the desk, the rest have been safely hidden away in one of the drawers. To the right is my perpetually-knotted headset. Mustn't forget the blatant product placement hanging on the wall! You can't see the second stapler, the black mark at the very left of the desk, which is my Milton-tribute Swingline. For looks only. The plastic fork is for jump-starting my little desk fan when it decides not to spin. And yes, I'm one of those ergonomic keyboard nerds.


Like you're surprised.

And then there's my Get Fuzzy collection, things that make me chuckle when I'm feeling blue. And a business-card-sized piece of Velcro. If I knew why, I'd tell you.

And I think I may have mentioned the leaky ceiling. Maybe.

Because this is my workplace, I don't have copies of my unfinished novels lying about, those are in the other office. My desk used to be far worse clutter-wise, but since I travel as much as I do, I try to keep it tidy(er). We also have a new 'clean desk' policy, requiring anything potentially secure to be locked away at night. In my case, if I put something in a drawer, it ceases to be useful, and will eventually go into the locked shred bin.

Because that's how I roll, yo.

I don't like to talk about my flair...

Since I shared my office earlier today (and since I think my readers might be planning an intervention...), I felt it only balanced to show Lori's office as well, the office where she spends 50-60 hours a week. She insists that it's a cluttered mess, but given the paper-intensive nature of her day job, I think it looks just fine.
I'm also proud of my handiwork with the panelling.
Can't take credit for the paint, though, my painting skills are like my photography skills. That's actually a beautiful chocolate pudding brown over white, with white cabinets, off-white carpeting and an espresso-finish desk. The guest chairs (that I missed in my photograph, somehow) are a pale blue, chocolate brown and tan leaf print.

Fun Fact Friday - Daylight Savings Time Bugs Me

Lori has been out of town for a few days for work, and in our conversation last night, she related to me a story of both amusement and commiseration. She had to be at the office at 7:30 yesterday morning, so she set the alarm in her hotel room and thought nothing of it. She rose, showered, did those normal morning things like brushing her teeth and the like, got dressed and headed out at 7:05. Only then did she glance at her watch to find the hotel’s clock had not been turned back last weekend.

My friend Mark also gets out of sync (more than normal) for a week or so each Spring and Fall when the time shifts. I have clients in Arizona, which doesn’t observe DST, so I rarely know what time it is when I call them.

Much of the world does NOT observe daylight savings time, especially as we shift to the southern hemisphere. This could make travel even more confusing than normal. (Look! I’m traveling in time! I’ve arrived someplace earlier than when I left! It’s magic!)

Of course, even modern timekeeping is a recent invention. Even when Benjamin Franklin visited Europe in the early 19th century, the practice of changing the length of an hour to accommodate the daylight instead of measuring 24 equal hours was still commonplace. He didn’t invent Daylight Savings Time, as many speculate, he merely postulated that adapting your day to the sun’s natural cycle was a good idea. It wasn’t until people started missing trains later in the century that someone decided ‘hey, we should do something about standardizing time!’

This brings us then to George Vernon Hudson. Not all naturalists had family money or wealthy patrons. George Hudson funded his love of nature with a relatively mundane day job as a postal clerk. As well as providing him with an income, his job involved shift-work, giving him ample time to pursue his twin passions of entomology and astronomy. However, I’m not concerned with the astronomy, since that’s a nighttime pursuit and wouldn’t have necessitated a voluntary time shift.

Hudson was born and educated in London, one of six children and the son of Charles Hudson, a stained-glass artist. George began collecting insects at the age of nine, and started keeping a natural-history diary, devoted almost exclusively to insects, a few years later. One of the most distinctive things about Hudson’s diaries, and later his books, are the beautifully painted illustrations – a skill he learnt at the hand of his father.

In 1881 George, his father, brother and sister left for New Zealand, where they met up with his two older brothers and sister. After living in Nelson he became a cadet in the post office in Wellington on 1 February 1883. His father died in 1884, and by then Hudson had determined to present New Zealand's insect fauna to the general public in the manner of natural science books in Europe. His first book, An Elementary Manual of New Zealand Entomology, was completed when he was just 19 years old. He continued writing and illustrating popular books on New Zealand’s moths, butterflies and beetles throughout his life. Lepidoptera – moths and butterflies – were Hudson’s main interest and, as well as collecting them in the bush-clad hills around Wellington, he bred them at home, to better observe and illustrate their life cycles.

In 1891 George Hudson had bought an acre of land in Messines Road, Karori, where he built a three-roomed house. On 30 December 1893 at St Mary's Church, Karori, he married Florence Woodhead Gillon, a teacher at Wellington Girls' High School. Hudson continued to work at the post office until his retirement in 1919, reaching the position of principal clerk of the postal division.

In 1895, Hudson presented a paper advocating seasonal time adjustment – daylight saving. His idea was initially ridiculed, and it wasn’t until 1927, with political support, it was successfully adopted. Even then, it took more than 30 years for anyone else to think this was a good idea. Really? And somehow, this wasn’t a clue? And social commentary about politicians aside, and for fear of beating a dead horse, REALLY?

In the true style of a gentleman naturalist, Hudson did all his fieldwork in a three-piece suit, complete with watch-chain. Beneath his suit, he wore head-to-toe pink woolen underwear. So we're basically complying with the idea of a crazy person, is what I'm getting at.

In November 1907 he joined a scientific expedition to the subantarctic islands on the Hinemoa and spent 10 days camped on Auckland Island. Sixty-one species of insects were found, and many were described with accompanying colour paintings in volumes edited by Dr Charles Chilton. Hudson's contact with local scientific interests was through participation in the Royal Society of New Zealand and its predecessors. He became a member of the Wellington Philosophical Society in 1885 and was its president in 1900, 1901 and 1940, by which time it had become the Wellington Branch of the Royal Society of New Zealand. He was elected one of the original fellows of the New Zealand Institute in 1919, and was awarded the Hector Memorial Medal and Prize in 1923 and the Hutton Memorial Medal in 1929. He served on the board of governors of the institute from 1923 to 1933 and on the council of its successor, the Royal Society of New Zealand, from 1933 to 1946.

He was critical of the formal education system and wrote outspoken letters to newspapers criticising this and institutionalised science. He provided alternative methods of learning through his books, which required no scientific training to be understood, and by holding regular meetings in his house for young boys eager to find out about insects and astronomy.

George Hudson died at his home on 5 April 1946, survived by his daughter; his wife, Florence, had died in 1935. His achievements place him among New Zealand's distinguished pioneer naturalists. His invention is the bane of civilization twice a year, when we have to adjust everything just so some nut could collect bugs. Really. Think of it, you have to reset all of your clocks, VCR’s, DVD players, microwaves, stoves, watches, cell phones, GPS devices and anything else we’ve come up with to put a clock into TWICE A YEAR to accommodate a dead man’s hobby. When really, we only need to know one time:

A thanks to Rebecca Priestley and George Gibbs, whose brief biographies made this educated rant possible.

Hobbes was fond of his dram

And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart. No question.

Several of you have questioned the reference to my bitsy-pookums. My snoogy-woogy.

This is, of course, Lori. And the nickname, classic Hobbes.
No, not that Hobbes. This Hobbes:
Consider turning your head sideways as exercise for the day.

One miserable, murky Monday

Because cloudy is the weather. Both out there, and in my brain. I leave for Ohio shortly, and even though I've known about this trip for a month or more, I just booked my hotel this morning. I can only hope I get the scenic overlook of Lake Erie the city boasts.

However, the weekend was bliss. We had clear sunny days, cool crisp evenings, and a lot of fun. Thursday we started the Florida Wildlife Watch after picking up Bob and Diane at the airport and heading to dinner overlooking (and overhanging) Tampa Bay. The restaurant lights the water, and since I'm sure plenty of people feed the fish off the patio, it attracts swarms. Huge catfish and a little manta ray.

Friday started off a little slow, because the Dammit had to go to the vet for scratching a hole in the side of his head. Like he needs another one of those. "It stops the scratching of its skin, or else it gets the cone again!" We now have a cone for regular use, and he's also on antibiotics and got a cortizone shot. Dammit the high-maintenance doggy, and the reason we can't have nice things, apparently.

Saturday we wandered about Busch Gardens, and since Lori and I hadn't been there since 2008, there were lots of new things to see and do. I don't do roller coasters, since if given the choice, I don't even do elevators, but Lori and Bob got to ride them all to their hearts content. And I got to do the Land Rover Safari, though the river segment was 'closed'. I have always taken this to mean 'non-existent but it sounds cool', since the ride has been closed every time we've gone. Still fun, since I could almost pet the zebras we were so close. Even got to grill out, big juicy burgers and fresh sweet corn. It was just like summer!

Yesterday we spent the whole day driving along and shelling at the beaches along the Gulf. Growing up swimming in Lake Michigan, I'm still in awe that I can set foot in the ocean in mid-October and not lose a toe to frostbite. We were late, so all the retirees had hit the beaches and snapped up the best picks already, but everyone still found a few gems. We also got to watch the little baby clams feed along the shore and then bury themselves in the sand as the waves came in. Oooh, nature. Sweet, delicious nature.

It was great to have friends visit, especially since it seems we won't be in the Sunshine State much longer (and that's a good thing, it really is). It was nice to take advantage of it from an outsider's viewpoint again, because of course, being a tourist is the best part of Florida, and we could actually enjoy it for a change.

Reader's Remorse - a bloggy confession

I don't read every blog to which I subscribe.

Sometimes a writer has a beautifully crafted witty post, followed by clunker after clunker. Sometimes a writer has a beautifully crafted witty post, followed by months of silence. Maybe I started following the blog because the author stated a well-versed opinion or relayed a humorous anecdote in someone else's blog comments. In some cases, I just started following because I thought Lori would enjoy it, and because I don't remember they're there, I never bothered to show them to her.

I just deleted three more, and the list is down to 40 blogs. Forty. The big four-oh. That still seems like way too much to keep up with. I am bleary-eyed and my brain hurts trying to remember even what many of the blogs are about.

But I'm sure I didn't delete your blog. I like you, I really like you. If you post regularly, and I get much enjoyment from what you post, I'm sure I'm reading everything you put out there.

Really.

Another Random Act of Thursday - I can read you like a book

When it comes to dead wrestlers, nobody messes with The Crusher, the wrestler that made Milwaukee famous!

As we established last week, I never read 'The Stranger'. I have no shame about this, and don't feel I must make an effort to rectify the matter. Though I might pick up Sartre's 'Nausea'. Because hey, Camus liked it.

One of the guys in my office was reading last week's quiz and offered up that he never read Camus, either. As we discussed taste in authors and genres, he indicated that his wife has set before him a reading list of classics and important works, and the next day he informed me, following discussion of my blog with his wife, the list has now been updated to include both The Stranger and a Vonnegut to be named later. No need to thank me. That's me, ruining people's joy since 1971.

A long time ago (and originally only the day before KV passed away), it occurred to me that I may be an odd reader because:

A) I have books that I have re-read so many times the pages are falling out, books that make me laugh even before I get to the parts that make me laugh, and yet I still enjoy reading them again and again, like old friends.

B) When I got my last library card, I checked out three books from the library to read, even though I was already reading three fiction, one biography, two cookbooks and two non-fiction books already, and I alternate between books without just finishing one before picking up another - think of it as channel-surfing in print form.

I never gave this much thought, but I know this isn't normal, because Lori reads far more than I do, and she reads cover to cover before ever picking up another book. She even reads books she can't stand this way, because not finishing would be wrong. She once struggled through a book (I think it was Crighton) and declared at least twice an hour that it was the worst book she had ever read, but she wouldn't put it down. With rare exception, I don't believe she has ever read the same book twice. We both have a few authors we truly enjoy, few, if any, of them overlap.

So here are my questions, my little turkeynecks:

1) Do you have a favorite book? What is it?

2) How many times have you read your favorite book?

3) How many times would you read a book you enjoyed, if it wasn't your favorite?

4) Do you have a favorite author or authors, or do you pick books at random?

5) Do you read cover-to-cover, or do you jump from book to book (to book...) before you finish the original book you started reading?

6) Do you read for yourself and the joy of it, or because of a task or challenge set forth before you?

Elliott and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

***note, I apologize now for the negative tone and self-centered nature of this post. Save yourself. Go Google cute bunnies or surf porn now, avoid the whole mess.
I had a fantastic weekend. Should I, therefore, be punished? Apparently so.

My phone died Sunday night, and apparently that means that the phone itself decides to go into paperweight mode after recharging. No calls, no email, nothing. Therefore, I never got the calls from the mechanic about the Buick, so even though I dropped the car for service yesterday morning, it didn't get fixed. I was able to bum a ride home, but now I have two vehicles in south Tampa and none at home, on a night I work until 8 pm. I'll be going to get Lori tonight, then driving back down here to get my car, then driving back home. That's not inconvenient. Not at all.


And the Packers lost. To He-who-shall-not-be-named. But we won't discuss that.

When I got to my desk this morning, my computer was off. I didn’t shut it off, but powering it back on confirmed a ‘thermal event’ transpired overnight. That’s a weather condition, not a PC issue. It’s like the Alli people referring to uncontrollable anal seepage as a ‘Treatment Effect’.
***artist's depiction. If only our closet was actually this big!

When the computer finally booted up again, I got the email from Lori that the new double-poled, double-shelved, beautifully organized closet that we put together last month suffered a meltdown this morning. The top shelf collapsed, and since it landed on the bottom pole, I’m sure that one’s worse for wear, too. Lori can’t tell for sure because the whole closet is just a jumble of wire shelving, clothes, hangers and boxes.
***not the Dammit, but the markings are strangely familiar


Now I just got another email from her, indicating that the Dammit Dog decided he wanted to roll in poo, and is now encrusted in it. He never does this, but it’s my fault, I haven’t picked up the yard lately because in rainy season, it disintegrates before I can get to it.
Meanwhile, our systems have been experiencing outages all day, so clients can’t access our system. And their clients can’t access our system.

And, thanks to stress, the nightmares are better than ever. Lori woke me up because I was whimpering in my sleep, apparently. That’s better than snoring, I would think, but she doesn’t agree. As I was trying to go back to sleep, the medivac helicopter was suddenly hovering and circling above our house until traffic wherever they were headed could clear. That’s not disconcerting when you’ve just been woken from a bad dream. Not at all. When I came back from lunch, my desk fan wouldn’t turn. After a few minutes disassembling, turning, flipping switches and banging it on my desk, it’s finally running again.
And I just read that my favorite magazine, Gourmet, is stopping publication after 68 years.
Can I get a do-over on my week? Because this one just isn’t working for me.

And it’s only Tuesday.