Nostalgia

The terrifying thing is I remember this advertisement. I stomped my little feet until we flew on TWA from SFO to JFK in 1967. Yes, they did become loafer-clad on my first visit to the wonder of Manhattan's many clothing emporiums. Yes, I have both the menu and the "pilot's wings" from the flight. And yes, we did arrive at the Saarinen terminal, and it was fantastic.

Recherche du temps perdu

A meta post, about not blogging.

Having just returned from a conference on technology, in which the social changes technology is enabling and facilitating was much discussed, I've realized that I'm a socially challenged blogger. I don't post much, and I don't link. My always supportive partner has suggested that if only I wrote more, and on what I actually think about and do, and linked, I could become a solid third-tier blogger. Imagine!

I'm happy here in my little digital backwater, thank you.

And I'm happy occasionally posting. Life doesn't really allow me enough time to be reflective and constructive. So you get what you get.

Also, buying a house doesn't allow much free time. Who knew there was so much to do?

Who's your daddy, W?

Really, this snippet from the OMB website says it all:

Tips for better results:

* Check your syntax.
* Make sure to use the correct spelling.
* Use the correct case (uppercase for capitalized names, lowercase for common words and phrases).
* Use a comma to separate capitalized names or phrases.
For example: Richard Cheney, George W. Bush
* Try synonyms and variations of words.
For example: CDROM, CD-ROM

I'm sure it's just coincidence that Vice-Emperor Chee-neeh is listed first. An accident, even.

Music

My "mission statement" for this blog was to include music in some way, shape or form. Well, this might be the moment at which I accomplish this.

This is a tiny part of what's on my iPod.

Summer

Peach Blackberry Cobbler. Yes, it is as good as it looks. Yes, it was baked at home. Yes, there is a recipe, and no, it wasn't published by Cook's Illustrated or the Silver Palate people. But I was influenced by both, and by James Beard, when putting the recipe together.

Filling:

6-8 ripe peaches, peeled and cut into 1/8ths
2 pints blackberries, rinse and cleaned
1 tbsp fresh lemon zest
1-2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 tsp vanilla extract
Fresh grated nutmeg
2-3 tbsp tapioca flakes
1/3 cup sugar

Place the peaches and berries in a large, non-reactive bowl. Add the dry ingredients. Add the liquid ingredients. VERY gently toss all ingredients, using your hands, until the berries and peaches are evenly coated. Set aside for 30 minutes.

Once the peaches and berries have macerated, place them in an 11" glass baking dish. The dish should be about 2" deep to hold the berries.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Once the oven reaches 350 degrees, place the filled baking dish in the bottom of the oven for 10 minutes. The peach-berry filling should just be starting to bubble.

Cobbler:
1 1/3 cups flour
2 tbsp sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp lemon zest
1/2 tsp fresh grated nutmeg
6 tbsp butter, cold, cut into 1/4" chunks
1/4 cup cream
1/4 cup milk

Mix all dry ingredients together. Cut in butter with a pastry knife until the butter and flour mixture has an oatmeal like texture. Add the milk and cream. Mix until the batter just holds together. Do not over mix.

Assembly:

Remove the pre-baked filling from the oven. Make sure to shut the oven door. Place 1-2" pieces of the cobbler batter on top of the filling, leaving only small breaks. Place the dish on the lower rack of the oven. Set timer for 10 minutes. At 10 minutes, move the baking dish and cobbler to the top rack, and sprinkle 1 tbsp of sugar on top of the cobbler. After 10 minutes, turn off the oven, and allow the cobbler to remain in for another 15 minutes. Remove from the oven, and allow to cool to room temperature.

Serve with vanilla ice cream.

To reheat cobbler, place serving in oven-proof bowl and heat in a 350 degree oven for 10 minutes.

Back to the Future

I feel guilty for liking Justice, if only because listening to Justice -- and D.A.N.C.E in particular -- reminds me of listening to AM radio in 1976, which I absolutely detested in 1976.

Of course, listening to AM radio in 1976 also meant hearing "Afternoon Delight" and "Muskrat Love." About which nothing more need be said.

David Foster Wallace is wrong

We've returned from the cruise alluded to here. I'm pleased to say we've returned both alive and refreshed, and genuinely pleased and satisfied with the experience of having traveled by ship.

While I can understand David Foster Wallace's reaction to a Caribbean cruise (and did in fact see much of the excess he described in his essay), it's easy to step away from that. The horrifying spectacle of the Lido deck is easily ignored on the Promenade deck, where in a comfortable wooden chair, and with the company of a good book, a journal, a pen, and a decent drink (a cigarette or cigar is optional) one can easily imagine they're enjoying recreational time travel back to the 1950's.

Then there's this:


What's not to like?

Through the Looking Glass, or how a new passport tells so much

On my morning stroll through the blogosphere I ran across this at We, Like Sheep (where curmudgeonly snark is served, somewhat obliquely on a regular basis).

The issue of the new passports really, really infuriates me. My first passport (issued in 1985) was a standard, international type passport -- a perfectly acceptable, useful, document. The renewal in '97 saw a distinctly more colorful version, but still altogether acceptable. This, this travesty of a new passport looks like a fast trip to the bottom of the design barrel.

A passport is meant to facilitate the quick and secure negotiation of a national board, either alone or in conjunction with a visa. It should not be a tool for agitprop. What, you're gonna convince a North Korean border officer of the virtues of "democracy" when he flips through your passport on the way out of the Pyongyang airport? I don't think so.

You want a secure, non-tamperable passport? Establish a global standard for identifying an individual, then install a write-once ROM chip with suitable encryption in the passport, and write the individual's identity to the ROM when the passport is issued. End of story.

I'll save my rant on United States' currency for another time.

Jesus Christ, Larry Flynt, Jerry Falwell

Jerry Falwell's death brought a maddening, chattering crowd of thoughts and emotions to me. Regardless of how you feel about a person's life, how can you honor and respect the pain their family and friends suffer with death?

Since Falwell's life was devoted to presenting a view of religion and spirituality that I found morally empty and repugnant, and that his conflation of religion and politics was fundamentally wrong, how could I act in a way consistent with my beliefs.

Enter Larry Flynt. Yes, that Larry Flynt.

I've never felt compelled to utter the words "what would Jesus do?" And Flynt never does. But his eulogy, and the relationship that developed between Falwell and Flynt that Flynt writes about is exactly what Christ preached -- and lived.

It should be an example to everyone on how to let grace move one's relationships.

Weather apocalypse and fashion meltdown, or from our recent correspondence

email like this does remind one that correspondence is indeed a good thing. Once upon a time we wrote letters. Now, this


R --

the latest, in this year's series of weather apocalypses:

http://www.erh.noaa.gov/wwamap/wwatxtget.php?cwa=lwx&wwa=severe%20thunderstorm%20watch

Is it not possible just to have bad weather anymore? Or is this one more way in which 9/11 changed every f*ckin' thing?

As you can tell, I'm in a cheery mood.

Ta,

S

You said it. Just in the last 15 minutes, it started to look like Mordor here.
The rain hasn't started yet, but I'll be surprised if there ISN'T a tornado.

Actually 9-11 allowed the WH to descend so far ethically that John Ashcroft
became a man of principal by comparison. Wonderful.

R

I'd love to say I'm shocked by Comey's disclosure, but nothing that's happened is worse that what I imagined would happen after Bushco stole the 2000 election and strongarmed the Supreme Court.

On a much cheery note, remind me to tell you why I will never wear white pants and a blue blazer. Hint: Gilligan's Island.

Ta,

S

S,

Unless you're also wearing a striped tie and boater (Perrin Tellock flashback -- woah), it's something best avoided.


R --

Add boat shoes, too.

Suffice it to say I felt I looked like Thurston Howell III. When fashion becomes costume, run.

I couldn't stop laughing at the image of myself I saw in the mirror. Hell, I've felt more comfortable in drag than I did in those linen pants and blazer.

S,

When pray tell did you wear this? #$%? Brunch with G's parents? The Eagle? Even more than Thurston Howell, I'm having dueling visions of the British olympians in Chariots of Fire vs. Ted Knight in Caddyshack. My brain hurts.

R -- the ensemble never left the dressing room of _-_, so there is no photographic evidence, of which I'm grateful. Meant as cruise wear, it served to provide much humour for me.

I decamped to ___s, and promptly bought a much more reasonable Hugo Boss brown, black and grey tropical wool blazer, chocolate brown pants, and black linen pants, and a Dolce and Gabana (!) shirt. None of which feels at all like costume, and all of which will be worn in multiple venues outside of the cruise.

I did abandon the tissue thin, white D&G shirt, the wearing of which fetishized my nipples and abs more than a snakebite kit and a leather harness. A lovely piece of clothing for the underwear model set.

S,

Those D&G bits of kleenex will do that. By the way, snakebite kit and leather harness is a phrase and image that will be with me for a while. thank you for that.

Speaking of perky nips, must we go through this every spring? May sucks. During the week it is blazingly hot as if it were July -- super fun in wool dress trousers and just in time to leave town for the weekend, the temperature dives 20 or 30 degrees. As far back as my first summer here, it's been the same thing every year. I still remember freezing in the rain coming home from rowing practices seemingly each weekend up to and through graduation.

On a funner note, you could make some really great party invitations by going back to _-_, recreating the look and taking pictures in the dressing room mirror with a camera phone. I'm just saying.