Lax

Middle school or junior high, eighth graders remain a consistent inconsistency. As a veteran of the middle school trenches, I guess I should count myself fortunate that no such prank ever occurred in any of my classes, not that there were not ample opportunities.

One of the units for the speech portion of class is traditionally the demonstrative speech. Over the years cooking became a popular way to get through this particular unit, especially for those who felt that they had not yet had enough life experience to tell anyone how to do anything... at least, nothing adult-approved. It got parents involved, usually mothers, and eventually necessitated planning presentations according to dishes being offered. Naturally enough, the boys produced the most enthusiastic and entertaining presentations, though not always intentionally.

As I reflect on the whole situation, I guess it would have been a little harder to slip something into a dish one was preparing right in front of prospective consumers. On the other hand, since everyone took to preparing ample quantities ahead of time, I suppose it wouldn't have been too hard to slip something in, provided one's mother could be circumvented. Those Long Island teens must not have been proffering their doughnuts in the wake of a graded project, or perhaps they simply did not care.

I remember the late sixties, when pranksters began lacing candies and fruit with drugs, razor blades, broken glass, and other similarly harmful things not generally anticipated in consumable goods. It was a tough time to be a kid, perhaps even tougher for parents unfamiliar with the kind of mentality that could conceive of such acts, then execute them. Laxatives seem harmless enough, merely humiliating, but they might also be heralding the return of an overtly socially barbaric time. That's one form of nostalgia in which I have no desire to indulge. Is there any chance we might spiral past any such repeat, rather than circling back through it? Let us ignore the unpopular war, the neglected veterans, the rising fuel costs, the growing gap between the privileged and the deprived. One can always hope...

Alternative Fuel Source?

HAVANA — Fidel Castro signaled Thursday he is itching for a return to public life after eight months of illness that has kept him out of sight, lambasting U.S. biofuel policies in a front-page newspaper editorial. . . .

In his article, the 80-year-old revolutionary asserted that President Bush's support for using crops to produce ethanol for cars could deplete corn and other food stocks in developing nations, putting the lives of 3 billion people at risk worldwide.

I admit I'm not a great fan of the current president of the United States, but this headline startled me for a couple of reasons. First, I was surprised to read that Bush supports anything that might undermine the oil industry on which his home state's economy seems to rely so heavily. Is this not the same politician who has been advocating the rape of Alaska and other federally protected areas in order to satisfy this nation's lust for fossil fuel? Okay, strong language, but you see where my head has been on the subject.

Then there is the assertion of Fidel Castro, leader of Cuba for the past several generations, that the use of crop-based alternative fuel might jeopardize food supplies on a global level. My initial response to such an accusation was naturally skeptical. I've been told for so long that American farmers are paid to let arable land lie fallow and that we have rotting stockpiles of grain because our production capabilities so far outstrip the ability of consumers to absorb such supplies. Of course, my information is roughly three decades old, and I haven't felt the need to update my information, so I should probably check my facts before spouting, but it seems to me that if we have had such capabilities in the past, we can surely set in motion whatever machinery is necessary to reestablish those levels of production if they prove sufficiently profitable. If people of the world are currently unable to obtain sufficient grain, surely it is not because the U.S. is not producing it. We might be withholding supplies because sellers don't see sufficient profit, which is a different problem altogether, but I don't see the problem being the actual ability of the American farmer to meet world demands.

Here's a thought: if people don't want to eat genetically engineered crops, surely there is use for them as an alternative fuel source. The truth of the matter, however, is that there are ample people in this country alone who find genetically engineered food more affordable than that wrested from the land by more traditional methods. If we are to make use of crops as both food and fuel, it won't be the first time we are sharing. After all, corn has long been used for both cattle and humans, though I'm reliably informed that they are not the same kinds of corn. The same will be true for fuel supplies, I'm sure. The bulk of the land will be used for what is profitable, whether that be food or fuel. Maybe we'll see a shift in the health community's decrees as to the viability of meat consumption in the face of decreasing supplies of consumable produce. Now that would be interesting indeed.

Man caught videotaping women's feet - Yahoo! News

Man caught videotaping women's feet - Yahoo! News

For centuries feet were considered erotic in China. For centuries a glimpse of a woman's ankle was considered a turn-on for some men, its flash an act of lewdness on the part of women. To this day people can be considered odd for having a "foot fetish".

On the other hand, this is the 21st century, and Santa Cruz is part of the United States, a country that prides itself on progressiveness, its repressive laws and mores notwithstanding. So how does a story like this qualify as Yahoo headline news? Perhaps it is more a reflection on the variety Yahoo strives to achieve with its periodically changing headlines than it is any sort of commentary on contemporary American society.

As for me, I like feet, and I like the article's closing quote: ". . . I don't think there's any need to jump to conclusions. Maybe he was doing research."

Pain But No Gain

Exercise is supposed to be good for you
But I think it's time for a quick review
If I pace myself and don't try to go too fast
I should see results that will ultimately last
But if I try to do too much too soon
I might as well aim at the moon
As hope for success
Though I strive my best
Well, all right, already, I guess I've done it
Worked my muscles beyond that bit
I knew the doctor had said I had a pinched nerve
But I thought some light exercise would surely serve
To get me back into a good groove
Get me ready to make my move
Instead I've spent this following day
Lolling about in the usual way
The pain in my shoulder is surely no joke
I feel like such a foolish bloke
Tomorrow for sure my legs will move forward
Taking my dead weight to be dumped overboard

Manual Labor Is Not My Thing

Manual labor is not my thing
Makes my ears kinda ring
Makes my back seriously ache
Guess I just don't have what it takes
To do an honest day's labor
Not even as a friendly favor
I prefer to let my fingers do the walking
Let my overactive mouth do the talking
Let ink flow freely across a page
Trying to sound somewhat sage
I'd rather take a long walk any time
Than rush around, only to stop on a dime
Wrench my knees trying to change directions
Find myself in need of timely interventions
I'd rather take a moment to contemplate
A savory meal set out on a fine plate
Or a brilliantly painted sky
Or something ephemeral, gone in the blink of an eye
If I had anything to do over again
I still wouldn't look to beard any lion in its den
I like the life I've lived thus far
From it nothing I would bar
(Okay, reaching for a rhyme - sometimes I just hit a speed bump too hard. :-) )

"Freedom" Revisited

In the days of my childhood
In the days of my youth
We ranted about freedom
But what is the truth?

Decades later as I look back
I realize I'll always just be a hack
Because my notions of freedom somehow got twisted
With irresponsibility while trying not to be tight-fisted

Responsible people pay as they go
Whether in cash or other currency
They don't defer or delay or deny
Or sit around and just wait and see

Act for act follows talk and idea
Things get done while talkers drift behind
Concepts are great as far as they go
But someone has to make a motion of some kind

One of my kittens talks a lot, like me
Begs for games, wants to climb a tree
But though she could actually reach the shelf
She couldn't get up there all by herself

A boost got her up
And then she was happy
Till she tried to come down
And realized things were crappy

She thought and she spoke
And she sat and she wondered...
Till the earth moved for her,
She thought she might have blundered

But there was a shelf
All nicely cleared
So down she leapt
As though nothing she feared

Those of us watching below
Thought many silent things
As she pranced past us
As though she'd grown wings

Freedom that's fettered
Is no freedom at all
Opportunity passes
While the irresponsible one is having a ball

Coroner condemns U.S. attack on British forces in Iraq

Coroner condemns U.S. attack on British forces in Iraq - International Herald Tribune

My life as an ostrich is being seriously disrupted. Browsing news headlines brought this story to my attention, one of which I had not previously heard.

When the U.S. first went to an all-volunteer military setup, there were a number of rude comments made as to the probable quality of volunteers likely to be attracted to military service, Robert Heinlein's speculations notwithstanding. During the subsequent days of at least overt peace, it didn't really seem to matter. Now, however, these recruits are being armed and sent into situations that invite the use of those weapons. Worse, the rate of fatalities suggests that some of these recruits are, perhaps, getting into such situations far too rapidly, (though for some, time might never provide adequate preparation...) I guess the cherry on this story for me is the cited quote from the cockpit in which one soldier addresses the other as "dude". Too many bad sitcom scenes are evoked.

On another front, I find it disturbing that there is at least one high visibility official of the British government who is so openly critical of the U.S. as to be antagonistic. He is well-placed to make his ire widely known as well. While there has been ample evidence in recent years that Tony Blair's alignment with George W. Bush has not been universally popular in Britain, to find such vocal opposition to both U.S. troops and U.S. officials is disturbing, perhaps because here in the States, there has been such a conscious attempt to try to think of the two factions as separate entities.

I feel a bit like the fool who wrote to Harry Potter after reading Rita Skeeter's interview covering the return of Voldemort - I don't quite know who or what to believe. There does seem to be a fair amount of withheld information all around, as is generally the case in times of disagreement. No one likes to think that allies are potentially more dangerous than enemies, nor that allies distrust each other, especially in times of warfare. If you can't trust the fellows on your side to watch your back, a foxhole can be a pretty lonely place, no matter how populated.

And yet, I don't see how arming ill-trained idiots can be good for the intended targets either, when all is said and done... So few ways to win, so many ways for everyone to lose...

Da Pit

Ka lua = Da Pit, literally

Back home the lua is the necessary place. Makes sense, if you think of plantation days and the realities of life back then. Things only get disturbing if one worries about possible confusion as to the purpose of a given pit. All that work, and then - oops? No, no... Surely the olfactory organ would have settled the issue long before such an unfortunate incident could occur... If not, the hot rocks...

Authentic kalua pig, according to my Internet and cookbooks research, is not distributable under FDA guidelines, something about hygiene standards, but that's just cultural bias and techno snobbery... ;->

Authentic kalua pig is really the whole pig, properly rubbed down w/sea salt, laid out on banana leaves, then wrapped in deveined ti leaves, and gently placed on hot lava rocks and keawe wood lining a pit dug 6' x 4' x 3'. It is then covered with more fronds and burlap, all of which is wetted down before being covered with dirt. There it remains, smoldering and steaming, from sunrise till sunset, when it is dug back up, shredded, and served up. Onolicious!

Modern day cookbooks recommend the salt bath accompanied by a bath in liquid smoke, followed by four hours at 500 degree heat. Personally, I like low and slow, and you can take that any way you like...

So yesterday I hauled out my lovely smoker grill, last year's b-day gift, and once again kicked off the barbecuing season. I have learned that keawe is actually the Hawaiian word for mesquite wood, so out came my bag of mesquite chips, better than charcoal and doing double duty. I also happen to be using almond wood logs right now because Bev-n-Mo had such a good deal on them last year... Makes for an interesting twist on flavors...

Did I mention that I love my smoker grill? I'm fairly useless when it comes to starting fires, which is probably a good thing, given my occasional pyromanical urges, but that's another topic... I don't know what' I'd do without my handy dandy chimney starter or my flick and click lighter, either... Use the oven, I guess... I did have the brilliant idea to use the recently shredded cereal box cardboard, which actually worked better than the more conventional newspaper, especially in light of the fact that I was using chips instead of the more chemically laden charcoal. Can you believe there is such a thing as organic charcoal now? What's up with that?

Costco was kind enough to provide (for a price) a fine slab of pork, big enough to make me think of a whole pig without actually being one...

For the sake of my kitties, I refrained from the unconventional use of garlic, though it took all my willpower to do so...

The smell of mesquite filled the air all day and lingered through the night. I don't know that my neighbors are all that fond of me, but there you have it...

By 7 p.m. the meat was fall off the bone tender, which was good, since I hadn't realized that there was, in fact, a bone in there...

It may not be kosher, but it's definitely a taste of home. Onolicious grinds!

Okay, not my deepest thoughts, but surely some of my greatest lovings here. :=)

If love of eating is a pit, clearly I dive in eagerly, avidly. My appetite may no longer be as bottomless as it once was, but there's still plenty of room for this kind of satisfaction, the kind you just can't buy. Ahhhhhhhhh.....................

Big Brother Redoux

There's a proposal in a nearby town to ban smoking. Now, here in CA such bans already cover all public buildings and most privately owned places of commerce. Now, however, there is an attempt to ban smoking in open air common areas and even in apartment buildings. Some folks see that last as discrimination against renters. What I see is the potential for such legislation to be extended to any facilities joined by common walls. Here in the Bay Area, that covers pretty much all of residential San Francisco. What's more, I think that bites.

Now, don't get me wrong - I enjoy a smoke-free environment as much as the next non-smoker. What I enjoy even more is free choice. Some folks say that people who don't like the rules and laws of a particular geographic area are free to move. They apply such logic to tables in restaurants, seats on planes, housing, cities, states, countries... Will moving off-planet be the next option? Realistically, who can afford such nonsense? Fairly, who should have to make such choices and bear such expenses? If I had to move as often as I'm offended, I'd keep a fairly bare cupboard, partly to ease all my moving, partly because the expense of so many moves would leave me destitute.

Since when has the government had the right (never mind responsibility) to legislate personal business so closely? Sure, they've been trying forever, but since when has it been right?

Taking a Hike

Okay, so it wasn't really a hike, but any kind of forward motion has to be better than the immobility that has characterized my first week back. Of course, a loco moco was probably an inappropriate reward for such a meager effort, but it can't possibly have been any more inappropriate than the chocolate eclair yesterday, or the iced mocha thirst quencher later on... Perhaps I don't quite have the idea of healthful exercise down yet. I should consult Max - he oughtta know; after all, he spends all his days and most of his nights in restful slumber, and there's no one I know with a better figure or a more graceful leap, or such loving paws. That's what the world needs, you know: more loving paws to help one know just when amidst life's turmoil to pause.

Day or Night

We civilians live by a twelve-hour clock, making confusion easy enough when sleep is lacking and shades are drawn. Lack of a daily routine can add to the confusion, so it shouldn't be any wonder that disorientation can sometimes set in, especially as age advances.

Cell phones have facilitated communication across distances short and long, which is a good thing, except that connections still aren't 100% reliable. Things can get quite stressful as those disoriented get increasingly distressed without some sane voice of authority providing assurance that everything is under control.

Meanwhile, those expected to provide order amidst such chaos can experience a different kind of stress because of a failure of communications. How, after all, can one provide assurance without substance to support it?

Oblique enough? It was just that kind of day, and night is barely falling...

Kaboom!

Two Cents

Look wise, say nothing, and grunt. Speech was given to conceal thought.
- Sir William Osler

For years the common wisdom in my hometown has been that one only goes to the local military hospital to die or to say farewell, so the recent news that military hospitals are providing inadequate care for the injured and ailing seemed a waste of breath. What more, after all, is there to say on the subject? I guess having otherwise healthy youngsters coming home maimed on behalf of a government that is hearing impaired is reason enough to speak up. After all, what is there to lose that is not already out of reach?

Cynical? Who, me?

I guess the school of thought that suggests silence is the only appropriate response to the obvious must take some credit for the perpetuation of such ongoing problems. I guess I'm one of the major contributors to that school. I guess...

And yet, some of the finest people I have met have served in the military medical community. They have done what they could with what they have been given, which clearly cannot compete with the facilities and resources available in the private sectors of contemporary American society. Perhaps if resources were reallocated with the aim of preserving and improving life, rather than taking it, the situation for military medical personnel and those they serve might improve, but that seems antithetical to the espoused purpose of military. Eh...

Full Lunar Eclipse

First one in three years!

clipped from www.latimes.com

First total lunar eclipse in years

From Times Wire Reports

March 4, 2007

The moon darkened, reddened, and turned shades of gray and orange during the first total lunar eclipse in nearly three years, thrilling stargazers and astronomers around the world.

The Earth's shadow took over six hours to crawl across the moon's surface, eating it into a crescent shape before engulfing it completely in a spectacle at least partly visible on every continent. The moon began moving out of Earth's shadow just after 5 p.m. PST. The eclipse ended a little more than an hour later.

So naturally, I spent the day drifting in and out of sleep, totally oblivious to the world around me as I moved from one time zone to another, from a world in which I had total responsibility for all things to . . . my more customary life . . . Were the world to have rebooted, I would have missed it and not known the difference - did it?

Airplane Seating

The first time I rode on an airplane was back in the summer of 1964, when jumbo jets were first coming into existence, and we were all very excited about these big new sky boats that could fit three rows of passengers across two aisles. There were no such things as overweight children then, and we could easily have sat two to a chair, even with the novelty of seat belts. I guess that was a long time ago.

Along with that bygone era has gone such generous seating, at least outside of first and business class sections. This time around I was unable to select my seat until I checked in online en route to the airport, by which time I was stuck with a middle seat. Naturally I requested an aisle seat upon reaching the gate desk. The attendant very kindly did a bit of shuffling, and I was grateful. Little did I know what she had done...

While sitting in the waiting area for a couple of hours, I looked around and realized that most of us had made arrangements for the convenience of those providing our transportation to the airport, meaning that many of us were there a couple of hours early. In particular I could not help hearing a couple of ladies who chose to sit down behind me. The reason I could not help hearing them is that they spent an hour and a half discussing how and why they intended to blog vile things about some of their erstwhile companions who, for some reason inexplicable to them, had abandoned them. Sitting there trying desperately not to listen, I had no trouble understanding the absent party's motivation...

Finally it was time to board the plane. As usual, I took my time. After all, why rush to another seat that I would have to maintain for five or more hours? There would only be more flesh pressing as people crowded onto the plane and over each other to get into their various seats. My plan to delay was so effective that there were only two cannier people behind me, one of whom quickly accepted an offer to trade her seat for a $400 travel voucher, a night at one of the finer hotels in Waikiki, and transportation and meals overnight. Me, I got the aisle seat in the row containing... yup, those two abandoned women, still bemoaning their misfortunes and dissecting their misadventures.

Did I mention that airplane seats don't seem as ample as they once did? I'm not sure which of us has changed dimensions more... What I do know is that while I was able to seat one cheek comfortably enough, the other spent the majority of the trip hanging over in the aisle, bumping and being bumped by passing people and carts. (I know the secret of how to raise the aisle arm to get extra space for tight seating... I confess I don't think the flight crews with which I have flown appreciate my knowledge, but as it was one of their own who once showed me, who am I to complain?) Meanwhile, the animadversions continued. I was near despair.

Fortunately, a child traveled with them. Soon, (if not quite soon enough,) the lights went down and people went to sleep. Rather than risk waking these sleeping dragons, I quietly played my Sudoku puzzles by the ambient lights left on for the flight attendants. Peace reigned until about forty-five minutes prior to landing when the foolish flight crew felt it behooved them to give passengers fair warning about our imminent landing. I couldn't believe someone could wake up and pick up where they had left off, but so it was. Ah well...

Conclusion: airplane seats just aren't what they used to be. (Can't have been me...)