Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Bittersweet Morsels, ParentBlogging Style

I didn't want to blog on this, because the circumstances bum me out, but.... The Lad tookm his first step Sunday night. Just one step, and he hasn't repeated it, but it happened.

And I missed it. By three feet. I was in the kitchen, fixing dinner. TFR told me, and by the time I took the step and a half required to look over the breakfast bar, he was back on his butt. I'm proud but sad that I missed it. Such are the ironies of a parent's love.

Parenthood is full of ironies:

I've said repeatedly that it is both humbling and yet a great source of pride to realize that The Lad is far better looking than I.

A baby is the most effective "Chick Magnet" on the planet. And yet, the one thing most likely to attract a woman is the one thing you normally won't have unless you've already attracted a woman (proof thad God and Darwin are conspiring against us).

I hate that The Lad isn't the cuddly little baby he once was, and that this sweet one-year-old stage will one day end, but I'm excited to see him become him, to get to know the person he is becoming.

Cue "Sunrise, Sunset".

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Chili Reception

It's been a while since I recipe blogged, so....

Well, actually, this isn't my recipe, it's TFR's.

And it really isn't a recipe, so much as a brag about what TFR managed to do on short notice.

Friday will be payday, so naturally, the budget's tight, and we have to go with what's in the freezer/fridge. Last night, since she doesn't work Mondays, TFR asked if she could cook so I could relax for once during mealtime. Lord, I love that woman.

I'd pulled a pound of hamburger (ok, ground buffalo) out of the freezer, and we'd agreed on chili. TFR started pulling out leftovers and working with them, and the results were delicious. So here's what she used:

1 lb. hamburger
1 14 oz. container salsa
1/2 cup of hubby's leftover pizza sauce
1 can beans

brown hamburger in a skillet. Add other ingredients, simmer for 30 minutes over medium heat.

Friday, June 09, 2006

Your Weekly Dose of Steve Taylor Lyrics: Installment #7

(Sorry for the hiatus)

This week, the Steve Taylor song I present to you asks the question, does being acclaimed for your creative talents excuse your self-destructive and antisocial behavior? The song is Jim Morrison's Grave, and here's what Steve himself had to say about it:

"The idea started a couple of years ago when I went to Paris and visited Jim Morrison's grave. The experience made me think a lot about who Jim Morrison was and what he stood for. I was into The Doors' music and read a biography of Morrison called, No One Here Gets Out Alive. As I read the book, a picture emerged of Jim Morrison as someone who embraced the Rock-n-Roll myth, 'It's better to burn out than to fade away.'

"I guess he thought of himself as somewhat of a 'tortured artist' who not only believed that genius justifies cruelty but that genius and selfishness are inseparable. And that's really how he lived his life. He was very cruel to the people who were close to him, even the people who loved him. So this song is just my thought about going to the grave, almost a stream-of-consciousness lyric.

"'Jim Morrison's Grave' asks the age-old question: Does artistry justify being a weasel? The last line of the song is, 'The music covers like an evening mist/Like a watch still ticking on a dead man's wrist." Morrison left the world some intriguing music. As far as I'm concerned, that's not enough."

Jim Morrison's Grave
From the Album I Predict 1990

Am I a pilgrim
or another souvenir hound
in the city of lights
I set my sights
on a king's domain

It was a manhole
dug over at the edge of town
and a spray can scrawl
on the cemetary wall
said, "You'd better behave"

Jim Morrison's grave

It's getting cold here
and there ain't a lizard in sight
did the end begin
when you shed your skin
in the home of the brave

Somebody shake him
from the land of larger than life
where the remnants warn
of a legend born
in a dead man's cave

Jim Morrison's grave

I stay driven 'cause there's nowhere to park
I can't shut my eyes--I'm afraid of the dark
I lie awake
that stone left me chilled to the bone
sound the alarm before it's done
find Jim Morrison

Come away to Paris
let him see another day
let him fade out slowly
only fools burn away
let a true love show him what a heart can become
somebody find Jim Morrison
find Jim Morrison's grave

I get weary
Lord, I don't understand
how does a seed get strangled in the heart of a man
then the music covers like an evening mist
like a watch still ticking on a dead man's wrist
tick away


Heady Cone

Thanks for the memory to Lurch.

So very cool. Go watch.

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If she's standing by the water, looking to sea, where is she waiting for you?

(VULTURE SIX IS NOT ALLOWED TO ANSWER THIS ONE)

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If you've a slack jaw and not much to say, where are you?

Damned With Faint Praise

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention yesterday, I got one more birthday present on Monday. Smallholder finally responded to me with regards to Illegal Immigration. Well, OK, I didn't forget to mention it, I didn't see it until yesterday afternoon.

I suppose I should be glad that he clarifies his belief that I, myself, am not "knowingly" prejudiced:

I do not feel that Brian is intentionally basing his anti-immigrant stance on concious prejudice. Once again I got caught up in the heat of the moment and used words loosely and did not mean to give great offense to our blogsopheric buddy. Brian is a good man and would not conciously hold ideas that were prejudiced.

But I'm not sure that "unwitting dupe of prejudiced ideas" is that much of a step up. Oh, well, you take what you can get.

He then goes on to say,

Many of the folks on his side of the argument are prejudiced. And prejudiced in ways that require them to contort logic. When presented with clear evidence, in the form of FBI records, that immigrants are slightly LESS likely to commit crimes than native-born Americans (or should I say nativists?), there is a pause and then "what about Hispanic gangs!" come right back out. As if Hispanic gangs are not included in the FBI statistics and as if Tookie Williams and the Crips are an export of Tijuana.

Funny -- most of the people I talk to on this side of the illegal immigration debate believe exactly as I do. Yet they’re prejudiced, I’m not. And he did it again. Notice the absence of the word "Illegal" in front of the word "Immigrant". That is a glaring and important omission. I called Smallholder on it in an earlier post, and he backpedaled, saying it was an unintentional gaffe, and I accepted that explanation. However, given his stubborn insistence on using this particular ploy, and further given the tone of Monday’s post, I can no longer trust the sincerity of that apology. Fool me twice, and all that.

So before I continue to respond to Smallholder’s post, let us make this point painfully clear: Despite what Smallholder would have you believe about us, I and those like me on this side of the Illegal Immigration debate do NOT hate immigrants, we do NOT oppose immigration; we oppose ILLEGAL immigration. We’re quite aware, thank you, that most if not all of us are descended from immigrants, and we have a great deal of respect and admiration for those who play by the rules and come to this country legally.

One commentor on Brian's site, and I'm calling Lurch out by name, makes the farcical argument that, FBI statistics be damned, illegal immigrants must commit more crimes since they have shown a willingness to violate immigration law…. … Perhaps we are more likely to believe them Hispanics are capable of crimes because they are.... icky.

Well, considering Lurch never saw your original reference to the FBI study (because he onmly reads my blog usually), I don’t see how his comment could be construed as “FBI statistics be damned”. And implying that my best friend is an anti-Hispanic racist isn’t really progress after clarifying that I’m not.

Interesting thing about that FBI document Smallholder references. I read the quote he mentioned, and it specifically refers to immigrants, not illegal immigrants. Again, that’s an important distinction. And it’s a distinction that Lurch made in his comment to my earlier post (he pointed out that he did not believe that the illegal immigrant population was representative of Hispanics in general) – a distinction Smallholder ignores in implying that Lurch thinks “Hispanics are icky”. Smallholder says, “Note that the conclusion that illegals have a lower crime rate than citizens…” Um….. Again, the study doesn’t say anything about illegals, it says immigrants. Repeat after me, Smallholder: Not all immigrants are illegals.

But it’s not the only time in his post that Smallholder does that in the post, as we will see as we progress:

On the anti-immigrant side of the argument you have the following threads:

Anti-ILLEGAL Immigration. Get it straight!

Economic: Immigrants are bad for America.

No, ILLEGAL immigrants are economically bad for America.

Refuted.

Interesting that right after taking Lurch to task for “ignoring” the FBI study, Smallholder then readily “refutes” the economic costs of Illegal Immigration, studies (many of which are readily available with a simple Google search, and some of which were provided by reader Polymath in a Maximum Leader post) be damned.

At this point, in order to discuss economics and Illegal immigration, the difference between legal and illegal immigrants is VASTLY important, even more so than on the issue of crime. The reason for this is simple: Large numbers of illegal immigrants, especially in border states and western agricultural states (that’s redundant, isn’t it?), do NOT, contrary to Smallholder’s assertion, obtain false papers and get legitimate jobs paying at least minimum wage and withholding taxes. Maybe some do, maybe even a large number, but I suspect that, especially out here, the completely undocumented illegals are if not the majority, a very large minority at the least.

So let’s take both groups separately. With regards to the group relied on by smallholder to support his argument, namely, the group that is using fraud to pose as legal workers (but the only crime they ever committed was crossing the border, I thought? Huh….), they provide not a single valid economic advantage to the US economy that can’t be provided by streamlining the immigration process and making it easier to admit more LEGAL immigrant workers (something I’ve advocated all along, as have many others).

So that brings us to the completely undocumented illegals: the day laborers working for lower than minimum wage with no benefits, withholding, etc. The only reason they are economically cheaper than citizens or legal immigrants is because their illegal status and the threat of discovery allows people to hire them for lower wages than they could get away with for a legal laborer. And while they may provide an economic benefit, especially for their employers, I’m not sure it’s as big an advantage in the long run as Smallholder claims. One study indicates that the cost of labor accounts for only 6% of agricultural production expenses. A shift from underpaid illegals to higher paid legal immigrants and citizens isn’t going to suddenly result in $5 Avocados, folks. And no, rich folks in California aren’t going to stop having their roses trimmed just because they have to pay Juan $8/hour instead of $4.

But even allowing for some cost advantage to hiring such underpaid illegals, economists have for some time pointed out the myriad of drawbacks: artificially deflated wages in certain industries; the financial strain on certain government services (more on that in a moment), the added burden on the prison system….

Which brings us to this:

Crime: Immigrants lead to higher crime rates.

Actually, that’s a gross misrepresentation of the argument against illegal immigration from the effects of crime. The real argument for our side is this: A porous border that allows people to cross with near total impunity is bound to attract, and has attracted, individuals who intend to cross over into this country in order to engage in activities far less innocent that merely seeking work. Furthermore, the shadow society created by such a large number of illegal immigrants, and their willingness to help each other avoid deportation, makes it easier for the criminal element within their community to hide from and escape prosecution. And while this criminal element may (or may not) be a smaller percentage of their population that the crime rate in general (a claim that is not established by Smalklholder’s FBI study of IMMIGRANTS IN GENERAL, not ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS), given the estimated millions of illegals crossing the border, even a single digit percentage of them would amount to tens of thousands of predatory criminals. Securing the border against all (or ass close to all as possible) illegal immigrants will also contribute to preventing these criminals from entering.

The examples cited: Los Angeles Gangs; Oregon drug rings and child molesters are not meant to prove that immigrants in general are more criminally inclined, but that a lax immigration policy has made it easy for these individuals to import their crime.

Refuted. Government statistics definitively show that immigrants are, if anything, slightly less likely to commit crimes.

This is true, but also irrelevant, because WE’RE TALKING ABOUT ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS, NOT ALL IMMIGRANTS IN GENERAL!!!!!!!!!

Now, back to the economic cost/benefits analysis of illegal immigration:

Tax fairness: Immigrants don't pay their fair share of taxes and use social services.

Immigrants do, ILLEGAL IMMIGRANTS DON’T!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry, Smallholder, but I’m not going to let you “Big Lie” this into a general immigration debate, this is about ILLEGAL immigration.

[Illegal] Immigrants actually pay the same sales tax on all purchased goods

Ummmm…. No. This assumes that all goods and services are taxed at the same rate across the board. This is certainly not true in California (they have a few illegals, don’t they?), where necessities like food and medicine are not taxed, which means that low income illegals, less likely to purchase luxury goods, are not paying sales tax on the same percentage of their purchases as are higher paid legal immigrants and nationals. Furthermore, one state near the border, my home state of Oregon, has no sales tax at ALL.

and do not get any of the taxes they pay under false social secutiry numbers back. They do not get welfare or social security (becuase they are illegal).

Two things:

1. I’m to assume that they’re willing to commit fraud (not a crime, I suppose, since the only crime they ever commit is crossing the border) in order to get jobs, but not to get government services? Riiiiight……

2. This may come as some surprise to Smallholder, but Federal assistance in the form of welfare and Social Security are not the only forms of government assistance available, and are not the only burden an individual might place on the system. There is state assistance. Here in Oregon, the U of O, in conjunction with the State and the Mexican Consulate, actually held seminars for illegals on how to apply for and get all sorts of government assistance. In California, Illegals account for very high percentages of the uninsured motorist population, as well as uninsured visits to emergency rooms.

Job theft: Immigrants steal jobs from hard-working Americans.

No, ILLEGAL immigrants steal jobs from hard-working Americans and LEGAL immigrants.

Anti-immigrant folks are also typically opposed to raising the minimum wage because it will eliminate low-level jobs by rejiggering employer's calculations of marginal utility, but somehow magically think that an indirect lift of the minimum wage would not have the same effect.

Again, Smallholder’s argument here is based on ignoring the fact that American and legal immigrant workers must be hired for the minimum wage, while a large portion of the illegal population can be hired for less.

Plus, Republicans are supposed to value hard work and individual initiative.

Yes, we also value a level playing field, one that doesn’t exist when legal workers are given an artificial limit to what they’re able to do to get the job (work for less than minimum wage), a restriction that illegals are not hampered by.

How hardworking are Americans who are outcompeted by folks who don't even speak English?

In other words, Yanquis are icky and lazy and deserve to be unemployed.

Or maybe they’re outcompeted because that minimum wage vs. subminimum wage imbalance gives illegal immigrants an unfair edge? Hmmmm……

The Law is the Law! We should punish all wrongdoers: "What part of illegal do you not understand?" When the legal purists demand the harsh punishment of speeding and fellatio, I'll pay more attention.

That was never MY argument, so I’ll let the strawman defend himself in my comments. Or not.

Assimilation: Hispanics, unlike all other immigrant groups of the past (aside form the involuntary immigration of Africans), will not assimilate. Open to question. BUT, historical trends say they will.

The popularity of La Raza and the Chicano movements among young Hispanics in the Southwest would seem to indicate otherwise. But since this is not an argument I’ve ever made against illegal immigration, I’ll not belabor this point.

American Morality. Talking with the Foreign Minister, I realized there is another aspect to the immigration situation. Given that legalizing currently illegal aliens will lessen the countrywide financial benefit of illegal labor, on purely economic grounds we ought to make sure that they never get legal status. Of course, such a Machiavellian stance has moral implications: Is it okay to exploit the willingness of immigrants to work to benefit ourselves while at the same time denying them basic benefits of American society? This is troublesome. I don't know where I stand here.

I know exactly where I stand on this one: Using their illegal status to force them to work for less than Americans would is not only unfair to American/legal immigrant workers, it is a form of economic slavery, and is equally victimizing of the illegals themselves.

Elitiism. Rich middle class people only like immigration because it threatens the poor and less fortunate.

Not an argument I’ve made. Scarecrow?

Smallholder would have you believe that opposition to illegal immigrants is opposition to all immigration, and is thus racists. I hope I’ve made it painfully clear that those of us on this side of the argument don’t oppose all immigration. As Lurch says, “among those of us who oppose illegal immigrants, the "immigrant" part is not the thing that concerns us.” And I hope it’s clear why this distinction is important.

I wonder if perhaps there isn’t a little bit of reverse racial bias in Smallholder’s point of view: The implication of image of all immigrants, and by ignoring the distinction, all illegal immigrants, as honest, hard-working simple folk without an evil bone in their body, is that anyone who opposes them must be racist. It couldn’t possibly be that we oppose illegal immigration for any other reason.

Could it?

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Happy Birthday

Note: This was supposed to be posted on Tuesday, but somehow Blogger didn't get the memo. I was wondering why no one was commenting:

Multiple reasons to celebrate this weekend, beyond the good news about culinary school.

Yesterday was my birthday, so I took a vacation day and just doing whatever I wanted. TFR was very good about taking over the childcare duties for most of the day. I'm blessed to be married to her.

She gave me a couple of belts for my birthday, along with the boxed set of all three extended version LOTR movies. We watched part of Return of the King last night, making it to the lighting of the signal fires. There are still some major discrepancies that bug the heck out of me, but the extended versions are much closer to the books that the theatrical releases were.

My mother sent me a check with instructions on what to buy for myself, and it was perfect:

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

I've dubbed it "Old 97". It's not as hard core as a hand-built, competition-grade smoker, but it's a step up light years from the "R2 Unit". I bought it on Saturday and started working on it between chores, finished it and cured it yesterday, and played with cooked on it all day yesterday. TFR tried apologizing last night that I had to cook on my birthday. Sweet, misguided girl.

To add serendipity to the weekend, on Thursday I received a parcel from my mother. Included in it were some items of memorabilia that had belonged to my grandparents. Among them was a decanter that I had always admired -- cobalt blue, it was a commemorative released in 1969 on the 50th anniversary of the American Legion (my grandfather was proud of his veteran status), and originally contained bourbon. But the most prized contents of the package were my grandfathers pipes. I've loved the smell of pipe smoking since I was a boy because of him, and have wanted to inherit his pipes since I took up pipe smoking myself. Most of the pipes are currently unsmokeable -- the stems are either broken or missing, and they're just bowls. Those will eventually go on display (when I have the space and a proper place to do so), but one or two are either still smokeable or of high enough quality to be worth refurbishing.

Almost as exciting was the piece of notebook paper I found, on which was written, in my great-grandfather's handwriting, the following recipe (verbatim):

Smoked Fish

Cut fish- & Soak in Salt
Water - 1 hour. Dry off-
Oil & rub each Piece &
Put brown sugar on it-
Quite a bit. Pepper if
you like - five or more
hours- hickory chips &
Mesquite-
As luck would have it, I happened to have a smoker (see above... hehehe...), so I tried the recipe on a salmon filet and a steelhead filet yesterday while I was smoking a pork roast at hte same time. It was delicious.

Because of the decanter, I'd gone out and bought myself a small bottle of Makers Mark, and so last night I smoked my grandfather's "Missouri Meerschaum" (corncob pipe) and drank my first glass of Bourbon (on the rocks). It's good stuff, but I'm still a Scotch man.

All in all a good birthday.

Friday, June 02, 2006

I'm In!

I received this email yesterday, and saw it for the first time this morning:

Congratulations! You have been accepted into the Lane Community College Culinary Arts program for fall term, 2006.
You will soon receive a letter in the mail outlining what your next steps will be to enter the program. As you know, you will be responsible for paying a $275 application fee, but please do nothing yet until you receive the letter with instructions. We are also offering a limited number of scholarships to help defray the cost of your first term at Lane.
So, please stay tuned. If your address or phone number changes, please let me know and be sure to change it in ExpressLane also.
Thank you...you'll be hearing from me again soon.


For all those who have been supporting me, thank you.



*Update

Yes, Bobgirrl, I realize this means I have to up my garlic powder.

Friday, May 26, 2006

O.....K.....


Thanks for the Memory to Vulture Six.

Roth: Return to Van Halen 'an inevitability'
'It's not rocket surgery,' says singer


"Rocket surgery"? I'm no brain scientist, but I think ol' Dave's taken a few too many hits off of the ol' "hookah", if you know what I mean....

The Searchers All Say

I was pleased (but not surprised) at the number of people who got my Edmund Fitzgerald musical geography question right. Professor David, while late to the party, gave the most detailed answer. That didn't surprise me either, since like me, he and Lurch (my to best friends from college) have been fascinated with the story of "the Pride of the American Side". For me, it started the first time I heard Lightfoot's song. When TFR and I honeymooned in Northern Wisconsin, we stopped in Duluth, MN, and visited the Lake Superior Marine Museum, which has an excellent display on the Edmund Fitzgerald, including a model of the wreck on the bottom of Superior, as well as a model of her as she was before the wreck.

For them, it was part of where they grew up -- in Michigan on the shores of the Great Lakes.

When I decided to do a Musical Geography question on that song, I originally intended to ask the question, "To where would 'She' have made it if she's put 15 more miles behind her?" The answer, of course, is Whitefish Bay.

That line in the song is, to my mind, one of the most haunting. And it's a significant commentary on storm-related shipwrecks in the Great Lakes, especially Superior, which tend to happen at a greater rate than even the open ocean. In a recent documentary I watched on that subject in general (not just on the Edmund Fitzgerald), it was mentioned that a significant factor in this is the relatively short distances from one end of Superior to the other. On the open ocean, with enough advanced warning, a ship can outrun an advancing storm, putting enough distance between themselves and the weather to go around or make a safe port. In the Great Lakes, you run out of real estate very quickly and have to turn north or south to make safe harbor, and that's when the storms get you. In addition, the relativer dhallow depths in the Great Lakes (as compared ot the open ocean) increase the danger for ships, especially when they cause the storm swell to break.

David called me last night and recommended a newer book about her, Mighty Fitz by Michael Schumacher. Thanks, Chancellor, I'll check that out.

Memorial Day

This post was originally written on May 30, 2005, just before last Memorial Day. I have decided to bring it up to today, because I really can't add anything to it.

(Posted early, since I won't be near a computer on Monday)

I have memories from my childhood and even my early adulthood of my parents and grandparents going to cemetaries around San Diego every Memorial Day to place flowers on the graves of relatives who had served in the military. I always thought it was a nice sentiment, but felt no urge to participate.

Now my own father and grandfather lie in such graves, and I, far from those cemetaries, wish I could be there this weekend to follow my family's lead. I wish I could, in person, honor the memory of these men who so nobly served their countries. So I will have to settle for honoring them here, in my Blog.

It is customary on this holiday to remember the way in which our honored dead died heroically for their country. And certainly that is a righteous custom. but while neither my father nor my grandfather died heroic deaths, they did live heroic lives. And that, in my estimation, merits honor.

My grandfather was the quintessential Man's man: a rugged, handsome chap who in his lifetime worked as a farmer, a ranch foreman, a Navy machinist's mate, and a pioneer in the field of harvesting salt from the sea. He lived an outdoor life, and adored fishing and hunting. I remember the time he visited us in Southern Idaho. He wanted to try his hand at Idaho's trout, and was disdainful of our proposal that we fish the local irrigation canals. Disdainful, that is, until he saw the size of the lunkers lounging right beneath the surface. I'd never before seen my usually stoic grandfather so excited.

He served in the Pacific in World War Two, and when his ship went alongside to help another that had been struck by a kamikaze, he went over the side and into a burning compartment to rescue other men.

I loved to go for drives with him to the Salt Works at the south end of San Diego Bay where he, like his father before him, was the superintendant. He would take me for rides on the "dinky", the narrow gauge railway used to transport harvested salt. He smoked cheap cigars, and had the slyest wink in the world.

His final days were filled with pain from the cancer and old age that finally took him. But he never ceased to be dignified and courageous. I wasn't there when he passed, but I did have a chance to tell him several years ago that I planned to name my first son in his honor.

My father was a different kind of man, but all the same he was the best man I've ever known in his life. His childhood was full of tragedy and heartache. His mother died of gangrene when he was 5, and childhood polio guaranteed that he would forever be small and beset by medical issues. But he made up for his physical stature with a giant personality. He aggressively attacked life with a suprirsing vigor his whole life. As a teenager, he worked on a cattle ranch in northeastern Oregon, and rode bulls on the side. He attended Bible College, and then joined the Navy, graduating at the top of his class in basic training and in advanced school, and served as a sonarman on the destroyer USS Bausell, DD-845. he played all sorts of sports, both in school and the Navy. The stories he told of his days in the Navy were always fascinating and often highly amusing. After leaving the Navy he and his new bride moved back to his beloved Oregon. It was there that they had me and my sister. It was there that he began and eventually ended his career as a pastor. He served in churches in multiple towns in Oregon, as well as one in Idaho. In all those towns, he made sure he was more than a passtor, he was a friend and a citizen. He served on volunteer fire departments, risking his life on several occasions and prompting a huge, shaggy Idaho farmer and atheist fellow VFD member to comment, "Preacher, you're one hell of a man!" Indeed.

He was more demonstrative of his emotions than my grandfather, and I grew up being hugged, told I was loved, and supported. I loved leaving the house early on a Saturday morning to go fishing with him, stopping at a convenience store on the way for a pop and a candy bar. He was active in our schools, announcing games, serving as a crossing guard, teaching little league softball, chaperoning events. I remember seeing the inside of his coat jacket, patched together with different colors of thread, as he went without new clothes so my sister and I didn't have to. I understood that my father loved me very much, but it wasn't until four months ago, when my own son was born, that I understood just how much.

My father taught me to fish. He taught me to hunt. He taught me to drive and to throw a ball and ride a bike. But he also taught me to care for people, to be good to others, and to love God. I know my own shortcomings and the ways in which I'm not as good a man as my father was, but he instilled in me enough of himself that I can hold my head up.

My father served his country. He served his community. He served his family, and above all, he served his God. For all of that, he is my hero.

This is my Memorial, this is their Day.

UPDATE 5/26/06
The ship on which my father served:
Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting
The USS Bausell, DD-845
Builder: Bath Iron Works, Bath ME
Keel Laid: May 28, 1945
Launched: November 19, 1945
Commissioned: February 7 1946

A Message from Mexico to the United States:

Haga como digo, no como hago.

Thanks for the Memory to Babalu Blog via It Comes in Pints?

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Your Blog is Suffering From What We Veterinarians Haven't Got a Word For

In case you haven't noticed, I'm in a bit of a blogging rut here. Sorry to disappoint everyone.

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If you've just heard a bell chime 29 times, in what city are you?

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Musical Geography Question for the Day

If you're a desperate man and the sh*# has hit the fan, where are you hiding and what do you need?

Monday, May 22, 2006

Pulling My Fat Out of the Fire (Literally)

I barbecued a brisket on the smoker on Saturday, and narrowly averted a very expensive culinary disaster.

I was aiming for a distinctively Pacific Northwest flavor, so instead of a complex dry rub, I seasoned it with salt, pepper, ground rosemary (for an evergreeny flavor, very Northwest), garlic powder, and hot chili powder. The source of smoke was alder (a traditional wood for smoking here) chips, apple chips, and rosemary sprigs. Partway through the smoking process I placed it in a shallow foil pan with the contents of a 22 oz. bottle of Oregon craft brewed beer -- this time Siletz Spruce Ale, which replaces most of the hops with sitka spruce tips -- the fresh new growth at the ends of the branches. Later, I glazed it with a glaze made of marionberry syrup, vinegar, and spices, the leftover of which I mixed with a tomato-based barbecue sauce, the results were delicious.

So when did the near disaster occur? Early in the process, before I transferred the brisket into the beer baste. Normally, I keep whatever cut of meat I'm smokinf fat side up until it's time to glaze it, but with the more involved process I had planned, I wanted to turn the brisket fat side down for a short time to let that side get a good smoke. Before I did, I noticed a pool of juices sitting on top of the fat layer. Loath to let it go to waste, I took a ramekin and tried to scoop it up. Unfortunately, I put too much pressure on the brisket, and the grill came off its brackets, falling into the drip pan, which subsequently came off of its brackets, and the whole thing fell into the coals. Before I had time to react, I had a face full of steam and ash and a $25 piece of beef sitting in a fire.

My first reaction was to grab for the brisket, but I couldn't see, so I tore my glasses off of my face, lifted the main section off of the smoker, and rescued the brisket. Fortunately, the water had doused the fire and washed off the coal hpan where the brisket hit, so it was unburned and relatively free of coals and ash -- it was a breeze to clean off. And because the whle thing had tipped to one side, only half the coals were doused -- I had the fire going again in no time, and within 10 minutes the brisket was cleaned off and back to smoking away.Only then did I clean off my face and change my shirt and hat. And it was a half hour before I noticed the first degree burn on my face.

One taste of the brisket, though, and it was worth it.

Tonsorial Travails

The good news is, The Lad no longer looks like a little girl.

The bad news is, he no longer looks like a baby, either.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go listen to Harry Chapin and get maudlin.

Good Will Blogging

Thanks for the Memory to best friend Lurch, who really should have a blog:

Wise and Honorable
It appears that on a scale of 300 you are: 30 boorish, 0 artless, 0 currish, 0 craven

This quiz has measured your responses in four areas.


Boorish: How rude are you?

Artless: How dumb are you?

Currish: How mean are you?

Craven: How cowardly are you?

"How far that little candle throws its beams; So shines a good deed in a naughty world" (The Merchant of Venice)




My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

free online datingfree online datingYou scored higher than 50% on boorish
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 0% on artless
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 0% on currish
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 0% on craven



Friday, May 19, 2006

Paying the Piper in Millibars

For most of this week, we've been enjoying unseasonably warm weather here in Oregon. On Monday, it was 96 in Roseburg, where I was born, a 10 degrees hotter than the previous record for that date. The reason was that we've had two low pressure systems, one stuck to the west of us over the Pacific, and one stuck over the mountains, and they've been funneling warm air up from the south. Well, it was due to happen eventually -- they unstuck, and I awoke this morning to raindrops on our living room skylight. Oh, goody, just in time for the weekend.
Link: The What Would the Bard Call You? Test written by drew30319 on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test