If you're ever down Siesta Key way, stop by the SKOB on a Wednesday night, order up a big plate of oysters on the half shell, and give a listen to Kettle of Fish:
The guys were great, but I was irked because they played their hearts out and the cheapskate patrons in the place were only throwing a buck or two here and there into their tip jar. Thus, I bought a round of drinks for the band and tossed a twenty into the jar. (That's how we roll in the Windy City.)
As a thank-you, their electronic guitar/vocals guy gave me his new CD. Sweet! Check out Thornson Moore'sOpen Art Surgery. "This Old Man" is my particular fave.
Anyhow, if you ever get to see any of these guys, throw a ten or a twenty in their tip jar, will ya? They earn every penny of it.
My BlogDaddy and I rarely think exactly alike, but we know each other well.
I saw this yesterday, and just had to forward it on to his geekiness. (Actually, I should have sent him this, this and this, too.)
Today, he returned the favor by sending me this. To which I say, that's why I always specify that I want autopilot (and a cup holder) when I get one of my own. (And I still want one.) _____
This is just totally cool. Read and listen carefully:
_____
I'm off to Florida four a couple of days to do a reprise of the memorial service for the Princess Mom.
I'm guessing it'll be my own last trip down there, as Florida is just not my thing.
But it'll be nice to see her friends one last time.
An email from my dear (and outrageous) friend Mr. Bill got me to thinking that I haven't posted the jokes some of you keep sending me in a very long time.
Here's Mr. Bill's contribution:
A teacher is explaining biology to her 4th grade students.
'Human beings are the only animals that stutter,' she says.
A little girl raises her hand. 'I had a kitty-cat who stuttered.'
The teacher, knowing how precious some of these stories could become, asked the girl to describe the incident.
'Well', she began, 'I was in the back yard with my kitty and the Rottweiler that lives next door got a running start and before we knew it, he jumped over the fence into our yard!'
'That must've been scary,' said the teacher.
'It sure was,' said the little girl.
'My kitty raised her back, went Fffff, Fffff, Fffff' and.................................. before she could say 'Fuck!', the Rottweiler ate her!'
Just so Pammy doesn't feel like the only Mrs. Noah these days, this was what it looked like two blocks from my house just a few days ago. (And that sinkhole was 15 feet deep!)
So what if I’m making far less per hour than I’ve made at any point in the last nine years.So what if I have to put on a polyester apron and plastic gloves and travel back in time to my first job.So what.THE BILLS ARE GOING TO GET PAID!This is not the last stop in my career.This is just taking care of business, doing what needs to be done. I am not better than this job.I am not better than any job.This is not something to be embarrassed about.I will wear this nametag with pride.I will wear this baseball cap so that hair doesn’t get in the food.I will be on time.I will not complain.I will work my way up if I have to stay.I will get the hell out if something better comes along.Hello, underemployment....
I can’t allow myself to be bitter because I owe it to the other people that would have gladly worked this job, or who may not get to go to college like I did, not to be an ingrate, to be glad for what has landed on my plate, even if I didn’t order it.However, I also owe it to them and to myself not to stay here forever.
I tip my hat to her. _____
Saw this article on boys and Axe... and immediately thought of Bou. Heh. _____
Even if you'ye never met them in person before, there are some bloggers you just know you're going to hit it off with. For me, one of those is Pammy.
Today, I got to play tour guide to her, da Zigster, and a couple of their good friends (who will have to self-identify in the comments, as I don't "out" non-bloggers (family excepted, and even they have pseudonyms)), destination Chinatown.
Since none of the gang had tried Dim Sum (think Chinese tapas on wheels) before, I hauled them out to Mandarin Kitchen for a new dining adventure. Unlike dinner dining, Dim Sum brunch involves wheeled cart after wheeled cart of small plates. If something looks good, you order as many small plates of it as you think your stomach can hold. The beauty of Dim Sum is that you can try a WIDE variety of different foods without ending up with a thousand "to go" boxes.
So what was on our table? Shrimp encased in steamed rice noodle pasta, fried shrimp (heads on!), broccolini in fish sauce, barbequed pork, duck in oyster sauce, lobster fried in wonton wrappers, curry noodles, more barbequed pork, sweet fritters stuffed with pork and mushrooms, green pepper shrimp, spiced beef steamed in noodle wrapper and small custard tarts, all washed down with cup after miniature cup of green tea. [Egg drop soup, too. Forgot to mention that.]
Replete, we hit the shops. Before my batteries died...
Dried fish, mushrooms and fruit...
... along with loads of exotic loose teas sold in bulk.
Lots of kitschy Chinatown goodness. (Ask Pammy about her new waving Maneki Neko.) We also hit a couple of tea shops and Pammy gave bubble tea a whirl.
After we walked off a good bit of that brunch, I introduced the gang to the wonders of Chinese bakeries. We picked a typical example -- linoleum floors, white hi-gloss enamel paint on the walls, some tacky paintings, a small shrine complete with Kuan Yin figurine and joss sticks, formica-topped tables, duct-taped chairs and a wonderful, wonderful case full of sweet and savory delights. [And Chinese soap operas. Very funny.]
The rest of the gang opted for cheesecake -- strawberry, banana and mango. I got sweet cakes filled with red bean paste (these taste a quite a bit like Fig Newtons) and green bean paste (slightly sweeter, color similar to Suntanas). Yummy! Before we left, we loaded up on goodies like Char Siu Bao, buns filled with ham and egg, ham and cheese, Chinese sausage and chicken, as well as a ton of other sweet treats. (The buns freeze well, so I'll be eating them for breakfast for the next week or two.) Big boxes of goodies for around ten bucks each. Bargain!
I dropped the gang back at their car with promises that I'll make a trip down south, and they'll visit the Windy City again very soon.
All in all, a very nice visit.
_____
One interesting note -- The weather here got very cold with a good covering of heavy wet snow just about the time the gang rolled into town. We tromped through sloppy glop and gray skies all the way through Chinatown. As I stood on the Red Line platform and watched them pull out onto Cermak to head for home, the sky started clearing and the sun came out. Hmmm....
_____
I am grateful beyond words for the Pammylanche that have brought many new readers here. Stick around. Read a little bit more. Really -- I promise to entertain you.
Heaven help me , I've actually volunteered for my company's "green office initiative." Mostly to combat nonsense like "Earth Hour," for which I had to send the office-wide memo out.
Look, I believe we've become incredibly wasteful in our packaging and in the amount of garbage we throw away. But that's just because we're stupidly wasteful, not because, as Old Crankypants would say, "We're all gonna die!"
Case in point (and the reason I got involved) -- my firm's team sent out an email, two days after we'd laid off admin staff, two out of three who were friends of mine, offering up coffee mugs to anyone who would swear off styrofoam cups.
Call me crazy, but I found it repugnant that my company could find the money to buy politically correct coffee mugs, but couldn't find a way to keep people who I loved in paychecks.
So I suggested that we raise a little consciousness and ask people to bring mugs from home. Add some incentive by turning it into a contest and having categories like the mug from farthest away (Paris and Pisa for me), silliest mug, most meaningful mug (the lovely bone china mug painted with lovely cats gifted me by the Princess Mug (er... Mom)), the oldest mug, etc. Putting photos of peoples' mugs (faces) with their winning mugs in our office newsletter.
I also suggested we promote groups like Cell Phones for Soldiers as a way to recycle unwanted technology.
I'm gaining traction. Even if I am the least likely person on earth to join the "green" movement. _____
Americans are guilty of causing every bad thing in the known world, I guess. _____
I've heard of scuttlebutt, but not Subtle Butt before. (Sounds like a useful thing to have handy at blogmeets, no?) _____
Holy moly! Seems Chicken Little actually appointed one fiscal conservative in the whole damn bunch of appointees. Way to go, Janet! _____
In Illinois, on the other hand, soon we're going to find ourselves just handing over our wallets to the state every payday. I'm surprised they haven't figured out how to tax us for breathing yet. (Oh, crap! Don't tell the Governor I even mentioned that thought. He'll find a way to do it, I'm sure.) _____
I find at least one thing on FMLife.com to giggle about every day. Like this.. and this... and this... not to mention this, for example. Makes me feel quite normal and lucky most days. _____
More grins and giggles:
If you haven't seen or heard the Bud Lite "Real Men of Genius" ads, you're missing pure hilarity.
Two fine examples:
... and...
(Buddies Walt and Mr. Bill just about killed themselves laughing over that last one last night.)
If I'd heard this on April 1st I'd have believed it was a joke. But it's not. That's one Chicago tradition I absolutely hate seeing die. _____
Oooooo! Can't wait to take TMBCITW and TMPAE to this. Maurice Sendak was a childhood favorite of mine, and it's nice to see Spike Jones is being so faithful to the original. _____
Hmmm... seems Chicken Little Sr. is getting a whole lot less love from his Hollywood supporters these days:
Now if he'd only take the hint. Little hope of that, it seems. _____
If you're coming to Chicago soon, be prepared for sticker shock in parking garages, but especially at the parkingmeter. And bring plenty of quarters. _____
I got a catalog from this funky company this weekend. Somehow it brought to mind Maeve, LL and Pammy. Dunno why... _____
P.S. -- Can we bring this guy to the U.S. and send him straight to Washington?
Huzzah, sir! _____
One more thing. I was going through one of the Princess Mom's three recipe boxes this past weekend, and I came across the only recipe that was ever a complete FAIL in the history of family Omnibus.
Toss it? No freaking way. In typical Princess Mom buggerdly stubborn style, it was tucked between two frequently used favorites.
Now, your family might really, really like this. I'm a mustard on ham kinda gal. Brown sugar and pineapple -- yetch.
But here you go (exactly as she wrote it out) -- and it'll either be a huge hit or an epic fail:
Pineapple Ham Loaf
3-1/2 cups ground cooked ham 1/2 lb. veal shoulder, ground 1/2 lb. beef, ground 2 c. day-old bread crumbs 1/4 tsp. poultry seasoning 1/2 tsp. salt 1/4 tsp. pepper 1 egg, slightly beaten 1/4 c. catsup 2 celery stalks, snipped fine [snipped fine? minced! minced!] 3/4 c. milk 1 med. onion 2 tbsps. snipped parsley 1/2 c. brown sugar 4 pineapple slices
Start heating oven to 350 degrees F. Place ham, veal & beef in a bowl. Add bread crumbs to meat, along with poultry seasoning, salt, pepper, beaten egg, catsup, celery and milk. mince onion, letting pieces fall into meat; add parsley. With 2 tined forks, lightly mix meat and other ingredients in bowl.
In bottom of 9" X 9" baking dish, sprinkle brown sugar, arrange pineapple slices on top. With spoon & spatula, carefully press some of meat around pineapple, then pat rest on top. Bake loaf 1 hr.
When loaf has finished baking, carefully pour off all drippings. To unmold loaf, place board or platter on top of baking dish. With aid of 2 potholders hold platter tightly against dish & quickly turn upside down so loaf rests, pineapple side up, on platter.
[Bon apetit, y'all.]
Given the peculiarities of the directions, part of me thinks she made this up to enter in a recipe contest, and that having the entire family sob through dinner as we gagged this down just stiffened her spine and made her determined that one day we'd see the light and appreciate her efforts. Heh.
(And those stubborn genes run in the family. I won't tell you what size mine are, but they are boot cut.) _____
And, yes, Keesie, I have "orginised lots of parties and drunken scenes over all 57 states." Why else do you think people keep inviting me back to blogmeets? *Giggle*
For those that say you can't make friends on the Internet, I say fie on you.
Susan Palwick has become a very dear friend through her poignant struggles with her father's failing health and very real wrestles with faith in herself along the way.
Fathers, especially, are supposed to be the strong, solid foundation that never buckles, never lets us down. Unfortunately, a life has a course to be run, bodies fail, and the next life beckons.
My heart and prayers go out to Susan, who misses her dad Alan terribly, and is beating herself up, thinking she could have done more.
There's not one among us who've been on that journey who haven't done the same thing.
Here's what I believe -- If there is room in Heaven for Old Crankypants (and I believe there is), then there is room for Alan, who didn't believe in God, but who acted in kindness and love throughout his life. We may give up on or not believe in God, but God never gives up on us or stops believing in us. We'll be judged by our hearts and our deeds, and that's enough for me.
Susan, I wish I could wrap my arms around you and take your hurt away. Only time and faith will do that. In the meantime, let me remind you of this:
Hang in there through the setup and discussion of Chicago's proposed mandatory spay/neuter ordinance. Bonnie will soon be on the line, and one of the funniest conversations ever ensues.
'Bout fell of the couch howling, I did.
P.S. -- Bob Barker is a nosey buttinsky who should stay the hell out of Chicago's business.
P.P.S. -- I'll never again see the written word "thunk" or hear that sound without flashing back to this clip. And giggling madly. _____
Velociman -- Another guy who recognizes pure comic gold when he sees it:
My boss's face was a stone mask of solemnity, lips pursed in concentration and fingers interlaced across his belly. But his eyes were absolutely swimming in tears. His mirth ducts were in full flower.
He saw that I saw, told me the nature of the payroll issue, and asked if I would be so kind as to resolve it. I looked at the woman and gave her a dismissive wave of my hand, said gesture full of both condescension and noblesse oblige, as if to say the issue had already been handled. It was an unfortunately imperious gesture, having that air of dismissal, but the plain truth is I was terrified of opening my mouth. I too had managed thus far to present a reserved and judicious appearance to this nattering woman, but I fully understood the thin tightope I was precariously perched upon. I had three sharp barks and a rolling guffaw attempting to explode from my throat.
JihadGene is MIA, but we can still celebrate. "It's Friday! Let's Dance!":
_____
Oh, Dear God. Chicken Little Sr. put Junior in charge. Junior, who weeks after Sr. finally quit screeching that the sky is falling starting parroting dear ol' Sr.'s "sky is falling" line.
We're all in trouble now. It's deja "boo" all over again. _____
Oh. And Sr.'s "irritated" because someone might be asking questions he doesn't want to deal with.
Get used to it, Bucko. Your constituency is beyond irritated and well into irate. And the questions are going to get harder to answer and louder if you try to ignore them.
I can't believe I finally pushed the button, but my Ireland trip is on!
April 18-27 -- beautiful countryside, soaking up the culture, pub grub, pub quaffs, traditional music and the company of a very dear friend -- what could be better?
And look! He's taking on immigration reform next. Given his performance to date, I assume he's just going to hand the keys to the country to anyone who cares to grab a set, with special emphasis on carpeting our southern border with welcome mats from one end to the other.
Is it any wonder he's finding the true definition of "backfire"? _____
Chicken Little Jr. takes up where Chicken Little Sr. left off. These guys really are determined to made it a depression, not a recession. Sheesh. _____
Speaking of Chicken Little Sr., I'd like to see him deliver this news to the troops personally:
The leader of the nation's largest veterans organization says he is "deeply disappointed and concerned" after a meeting with President Obama today to discuss a proposal to force private insurance companies to pay for the treatment of military veterans who have suffered service-connected disabilities and injuries. The Obama administration recently revealed a plan to require private insurance carriers to reimburse the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) in such cases.
He doesn't have the guts.
And he's too busy taking his message to the Jay Leno crowd.
If this pisses you off as much as it does me, I suggest you lift heavily from this letter and write your Senators and Representatives today. _____
And, by the way, Laura Ingraham can kiss my rather wide Conservative ass, too. (And if I finally moved from Moderate to Conservative, it's because I'm tired of watching Nero fiddle while Rome burns.) _____
Joanie composes a lullaby we should all be singing. _____
Got Kindle2? Then you should know this. (Yes. I'm tempted now.) _____
Really, it's Chicago that makes it worse. Just ask Joe Moore, who now is pushing for a mandatory spay/neuter law for dogs and cats over six months of age in Chicago. This is the same guy who brought us the short-lived foie gras ban and the whole trans fat kerfuffle.
Our police force is understaffed and underpaid. The city is running out of money, and our streets are one pot-holed mess due to the crappy weather we've had this winter.
Good to see ol' Joe's got his priorities in order when it comes to taking care of Chicago. _____
I bought this for my Great Niece and it was a HUGE hit. Sinfully soft, cuddly and washable -- the perfect toy for a little girl. _____
It rains one day, and it snows like a mother the next.
The time change tosses my sleep cycle out the window.
We have a president, who I really wanted to vote for but couldn't, who now shrieks, "The sky is falling!" about the economy, but ignores that the economy now affects him personally and brings his wife and children back to Chicago, two weeks after he takes over the White House, at great expense to tax payers like you and me, because "they miss Chicago."
It must be nice.
I wouldn't know, because I don't have Air Force One at my personal disposal.
Crazy people shoot their families and bystanders, and that same president wants to take our ability to protect ourselves and our own families away from us.
Co-workers are laid off.
The Divine Miss Marilyn isn't there to snuggle under the covers with me any more.
That same Chicken Little president pisses off not only our best allies -- the Brits, because he's got a personal agenda -- but also the Israelis.
He's sent agents back to the Taliban. And now we're supposed to send soldiers, some of whome are friends of mine, back to Afghanistan to clean up the mess he just made worse.
Does he really think radical muslims will forgive us, much less embrace our culture?
Apparently, he does.
How frightening is it that he has turned his self-righteous back on our known good, faithful allies for what are apparently personal reasons?
He's overwhelmed?
Of course he is. He has absolutely no experience with running anything, let alone a country, successfully.
But a strong person doesn't run home when he is overwhelmed. He doesn't throw a party or two and hope that the bad crap goes away: he goes to work, knuckles down and figures out what must be done, clean or dirty, and gets it taken care of. He holds his good allies close.
So far, I see a road show and a teleprompter. Unfulfilled promises, and bad judgment.
A strong person also doesn't believe that throwing pile after craptacularly large piles of money at problems large and small solve them -- it doesn't.
Sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal with it. You encourage Americans to remember that their parents did just that.
Lest any of you take offense at that notion, I have had to and done just that in the past, and will do it again in the future. That's how I was raised. That's how I roll.
I've personally had to choose between peanut butter sandwiches and macaroni and cheese. I've lost endless nights of sleep over paying my rent. And I was married to a well-meaning guy who had no idea what it meant to earn a paycheck with no Uncle Sam for a safety net.
Full disclosure here -- I've lost my own home. The details don't matter. What does matter is that it didn't define me as a person, and it didn't kill me.
I learned to pull my socks up and deal.
I'm tired of whiny people.
I want the real America back.
People who'll pull their own damned socks up and deal with it.
I'll be back, but right now I think I need a break.
Sorry to be out of touch for a few days. A wake for the 89-year-old mother of a good friend was held in Outer Mongolia last Thursday evening, and attending involved two trains (and an extra-large coffee on the second one to make sure I didn't end up in northern Siberia by missing my own stop... which, if you're on the last train, means that the only hotel in town is more than a mile from the train station and there's nowhere else to stay*), rather than at the Omnibus Depot.
Friday I couldn't keep my eyes opened or my brain focused. Too freaking tired, both physically and emotionally. And then we had a couple of layoffs in my office. Really a small number, but a real kick in the morale.
This weekend the skies opened up and dumped all the precipitation they've been missing in both Texas and California directly upon the Depot d'Omnibus. (Or at least that's the way it felt.) Uck. I holed up on the couch and chewed through a couple three good thick novels.
Anyhoo... back to blogging. _____
Windypundit gave me the giggles: Thunderwear. (My brother already has a hamper full of thunderpants, and it's not because he's carrying a loaded weapon -- he is the loaded weapon, especially after a fine Mexican dinner.) _____
Via William Jacobson, a new artist whose album is high on my gotta have list: Kathleen Stewart sings "It Ain't Your Money to Spend." Priceless (and a toe-tapper, to boot). _____
What makes me smile? Bourbon. Yummy, yummy bourbon. _____
The media is just now getting around to asking this question??? If President Chicken Little would quit squawking that the sky is falling and call it what it was -- a recession instead of a depression -- the public wouldn't have panicked nearly so much, and the markets would be much more stable.
P.S. -- Grade Chicken Little yourself here. Interesting numbers so far. (And for my more liberal friends, feel free to post this on your own blogs and invite voters, too. I'm curious to see true numbers.) _____
So Chicken Little is overwhelmed? It might help if he'd stick around the Oval Office and actually learn something, instead of dragging his telecrapper out on the road every other day. Gotta get those sound bites in, though. That's the important thing. _____
*And I know whereof I speak, as I did my own version of Blanche DuBois very late one Friday evening there. I still owe favors to a coffee shop bus boy (who drove me to the hotel and wouldn't let me pay him) and a very nice guy who was in town to visit his son (and wouldn't let me pay him to take me back to the train station). It's an hour back to the Depot d'Omnibus from there by rail. Longer by car. Bankruptcy far by taxi.
... on a gray day.
Yes, they live that close to the ocean.
Lots of signs, for zero traffic.
Mmmmmmmm mangoes!
There you go!
