sorry, Gregorio, no PV pics yet. Maybe Boyer will be very fast and get some up very soon.
but for right now, here are some impressions on the cab ride from O'Hare back to reality.
1. Orlando's Hair Salon
2. Mr. Pollo restaurant (a sign we must have driven by dozens of times without noticing but now has more meaning)
3. Great Big Accessories Sale! (... well, kind of a stretch, but everyone loves accessories).
Hey,
I'm waiting for the pictures of family frolicking on the beach at PV and move in pics from Erin and Moneka.
Where's the blog entries that chronicle little Evan's first everything?
Where I ask???
so, I promised more about the cooking class, but I've not had time and now I'm bored with the whole idea. So, if I am, then what are you? exactly.
I mean, I'm not bored with cooking, or what I learned in the class, but I'm bored with trying to write it all down. and I should have written it up for work by now, if only to report on it, but who has the time? and if it is work, I'm not going to do it at home, nosiree, bob. ... plus, there seems to be a little thing about getting approval first for all blogs outside of work. who knew? well, I just found out. and it will be less easy to track this down if I don't write about that little class thingie.
instead, hey, we are meeting up with the Kerr-Boyers and the Stykemain-Flatts in PV, like really soon! like 7 days!
if only any of my shorts still fit! poppa needs a shopping spree!
I'm not an alcoholic.
I'm in denial.
That's different.
so, I gotta post about something to get that awful picture of me downpage so that I won't see it anymore. I guess that I could just delete it, but then Boyer will accuse me of editing to make myself look better. which I'm not above, in theory, by the way.
so, guess, what? I went to a week-long culinary class last week! and it was great. And I was thinking on posting about it each night, but it was pretty exhausting. so instead, I'll write now. in parts.
Overview
So although cooking has been my biggest hobby for more than 20 years, as most of y'all know (Boyer, you've been my friend for nearly 20 years! did ya know that? well, at least you've known me for nearly that long) this class sounded great. Coz as my buddy Robin says: Self-taught cooks don't always get a thing right.
When I broached the subject with my boss, no problem. what? yes. she was excited, saw how great the opp was, how directly applied to work. I didn't even need to drop into plan B or plan C (I had worked out elaborate arugments and strategies; if they wouldn't pay, then would they at least give me the time off? etc.).
There were only 6 people in the class and the structure was that we would cook all day for five days, broken down into different categories by day.
Monday: Knife skills & butchering
Tuesday: Proteins and all the cooking methods
Wednesday: Sauces
Thursday: Vegetables & starches
Friday: Flavor dynamics, menu planning and final exam (making up a menu on the spot and then cooking it up)
We made 6 to 8 to 9 things a day. It was exhausting and really cool.
More later
... by the way, I won't be the cook in PV. well, not every day.
Congressman Ackerman, I don't know that a more astute observation has been uttered in time of war since Churchill.
Read about it here.
wednesday morning; El platform, Belmont Station.
9 o'clock
6 degrees
no makeup
No, we don't care what we look like at all. It's cold, it's Chicago, global warming is a GoreScam.
this morning when I left for work, it was 2. now it's about 9.
but this weekend the days started less than zero.
it's so cold that Chris isn't even having bootcamp.
it's so cold that the El trains keep stopping
it's so cold that you take expensive cab rides everywhere
it's so cold that you don't have to chill your gin
it's so cold that we have declared global warming over ... at least in Chicago
yes, midway through a forecast week of single digit, zero and subzero temps, it's so cold that you don't even care what you look like
just though y'all in California would enjoy reading about this
Chicago Tribune photo
Following is a e-mail message from a Detroit friend who is over in Iraq fighting the Bush War. As you will be able to tell by his writing he is a very interesting person with a different take on life! (did you expect me to hang with boring types). The photos are from his first tour of duty last year. bad glasses YES but - who is the latin was my first question to him ! !
From: "Never Say Never"
Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2007 04:22:44 -0600
Subject: Dustbin Dispatch from Babylon
DUSTBIN DISPATCH FROM BABYLON
Well Hello There My Fine Feathered Friend!
"Here I am!" Things are good, things are busy, and Haji is as frisky
as ever. It's an 8 day a week job over here. Those sneaky little
terrorist buggers certainly do try their best to cramp my style, and
no matter how pesky they may be, I keep on truckin'. And since I have
diarrhea of the mouth, or brain, or whatever you call it when you're
not actually speaking, but writing, err, typing, I shall tell you a
little bit about my life in the crusty wellspring of the cradle of
civilization.
Well it's winter over here in the former Kingdom of Sumeria, and
although it seems that the rest of the world thinks it's always a
blazing hot desert over here, there actually is a real winter, and
it's delightfully nasty! The temperatures get down in the 20's and
30's at night, and then rise to the 50's or 60's in the day. And this
is the rainy season, so that means dealing with cold, wet, and mud.
mmmm, yummm. There is a spot of graffiti on one of the fortification
walls of our base that states, "Mud City ->" with an arrow. Quite
apropos. It has been a week since the last rain, but the mud is still
like chocolate cha-cha everywhere. But shucks, no snow!
Then throw into the mix that this place is like the Detroit of the
Middle East, and lacks some serious natural beauty like trees, but has
an overabundance of trash piles and scattered debris to suit any
Feng-Shui. So to that end - I do not recommend starting a postcard
business here in Iraq.
Although the temps are adequate for snow, there is something about the
topography that negates that possibility. Yet I still pray to the snow
god, and eagerly spread rumors of snow over here, just to trifle with
the people.
What this place really needs are some trees, and about three daylight
savings times in a row. And sure, Martha Stewart could make an
absolute killing here too. But she'd have to change her name to
Mohammed Stewart, and wear a man-dress. The subjugation of women is
still en vogue, although anything having to do with any sort of
quality control is overseen by the fairer sex.
You will also find it interesting to note that not everybody looks the
part of the swarthy Arab, and that is because the Arabs do not make up
the majority of the Middle East, they primarily occupy a strip amidst
the middle of Asia Minor. So it is quite normal to find light skinned
Iraqis with blue, green, or hazel eyes and European facial features.
And every once in a while you will see a blond/sandy haired Iraqi.
This land is reminiscent of what I believe Stalingrad to have looked
like: an interminable/total wasteland where chaos and the detritus of
a shattered society take on a perverse art like quality. Yet out of
the rubble and scum you will find pockets of beauty just like oases in
the desert. Places where the palm and date groves are lush along the
banks of the Tigris River, and a thick green velvet like Spanish moss
covers the terra firma. And like gems in a crown, mosques dot the
landscape with a prevalence only rivaled by the Baptist churches of
the southern US. Five times a day the muzzeins call the faithful and
ignorant alike to prayer, or at least to bend an ear. Their songs of
prayer, like apostolic liturgical chants with a medieval flavor, are
both similar and different at the same time. Haunting and beckoning,
with a soulful yearning, the Imams call out from the minarets.
Well let me head you off at the political pass regarding the news
about the ramp-up in troop strength. To answer your as yet unasked
question about the current increase in troop numbers on the ground
here in the spicy areas of Iraq. What is my take on this situation,
and how do I feel about it? Frankly, to be quite honest, if it leads
to me getting a date while I am over here in the Sandbox, then Hooah!
I am all for it!
Oh - I have now been anointed. And knighted with the noble name Abu
Shaebe. A title of respect based on my grey hair and some small
negotiations I handled between the US military, Iraqi police force,
and the local nationals in a rather feisty town on the banks of the
Tigris. Now I just gotta get a shemagh, dish-dash, and a harem. A
flock of sheep wouldn't hurt either. :->
It appears that I have come to the end of my discourse herein. So
without further ado, I bid you adieu.
Best wishes and best regards to all!
Ciao for now,
-Wilson
P.S.: If you have not seen/rented any of the comedy routines of Eddie
Izzard, then I command you to check them out Pronto, Tonto!
"When I'm old and gray, I want to have a house by the sea. And paint. With a lot of wonderful chums, good music, and booze around. And a damn good kitchen to cook in."
some recent random thoughts ...
1. so Chris' birthday approaches. For years, since he was about 40-42, I've joked that he wasn't old and his current age didn't matter, but when he turned 50, he would be out and I'd be looking for a younger model. Isn't that hilarious? Well, now he is going to be 48. 50 is in sight. And now maybe the joke is not so funny. Should I stop? Or give it another year? Or keep going right up until the 50th, then he'll be surprised when I don't kick him out?
2. But maybe by then he'll be disappointed to not be on his own coz maybe he'll be in the midst of a second mid-life crisis (the first one was the Beemer convertible, remember?) and will want to exchange me in for a younger model; one who doesn't drink so much and who isn't so mean.
3. All my new girlfriends here in Chicago have the hots for Chris and go on and on about how handsome he is and perfect and such. One of them even has an elaborate fantasy in which Chris leaves me and moves in with her. "Those shoulders and he's so handy," she says. (And this is not Missy.) She has been fixing up her bungalow on the Northwest side, and though she is impressively handy herself, much remains to be done. So one can understand her attraction and her dismissal of me as a candidate. "I can cook," she says, in understatement (she's a culinary school grad). It doesn't make me feel that bad to be passed over, although I do really like her cat Scooter. I guess I could visit.
4. Speaking of the 50s set, has anyone heard from Daddy? (Ha! Boyer, you thought I was gonna say you!) I haven't heard a word from him nor from Simone. One would think he'd have a new script in the works by now ... something about the execution of Hussein? How she and Liza were throwing back martinis in the front row?
Hello, Ashleys!
Happiest of New Year's to y'all.
Chris & I are hanging at home after a grueling party night of having dinner at home (seared tuna steaks in a teriake/clementine marinade with Japanese-ish wilted greens & orange salad, kabocha no goma-ni, well, really it was butternut squash, not kabocha, and succulent steamed rice) and watching movies. Bolli was the bubbly. We stayed up all the way to about 11:30! Imagine!
Earlier in the holidays, we traveled to Charleston to visit Chris' sister Gina and the rest of the Layton/Greggory family. Very warm down there, though rainy. I flew down to meet Chris, who had driven down earlier. Here is a lovely Christmas photo of us ...
... yes, we are blurry, but I'm feeling a little blurred lately. Must be the meds. (I'm on the right.)
We drove home in one day, a 14.5 hour driving endurance test for Chris; he did great. Me, I slept a little and read from one of my Christmas presents, "Dry" by Augusten Burroughs. It did not actually make me want to stop drinking, but it did make me want to cut back ... so let that be a warning to anyone considering picking it up. And my New Year's morning mimosa notwithstanding, I have been cutting back ... a touch.
Otherwise for 007, I resolve to have more fun, just like Eddie Monsoon. Chief among the pursuits will be our trip to PV with the gang!! I am so excited I can't stand it!
Also, my goal is to see a lot more of people like this:
hi, Evan! Heya, Auntie Moneka!
... and of course Evan's daddies. Chris has not seen the Shangri-la Shack by the Sea, nor has he met Evan, so we hope to invade L.B. too this year.
oh, and can I just say that the bestest Christmas photo of the year is of Evan & his daddies on the beach?! All three are so handsome and happy; golden lighting, smiling faces, perfectly chosen outfits. It's as if a personal artistic director had staged every detail ... and maybe one did.
That is what I wish for us all, then, in 007: Artistic directors to guide our lives for perfect moments ... whether that A.D. is within or the spirit of Boyer or Paulie or someone called down through the cosmos ...
cheers
Yup, a new look, ashley fans.
Almost a new year, so time for a new fashion. Seems like the photos pop better against these colors.
Also, the blog is 3 years old now!
Happy BGN!
remember that famous Justin quote? (Not Justincredible, the other Justin).
Me thinks he doth protest too much. That tlacuache invasion last year visited upon Dave & Paul & Al & Justin and company? Well, them tlacuache are marsupials, ya know. And it is not too much of a leap to suggest that JustinOne had something to do with it.
Isn't it possible that he called upon his marsupial brethern to invade the PV vacationers?
Doesn't this look like JustinOne?
I'm just saying ...
.... until Ted pointed it out, by his actions and words, i did not realize that it is more of a sin and embarrassment to be found out that you are "a gay" than it is to be found out as a "speed / crystal / tina / poison sniffing” freaky evangelist?? - now there them is proper values that are being taught to the mindless cows in the evangelical herd ! ! !
