White Bread on the World Stage

I'm part of a dining group that has potlucks around a theme. I've written about some of those dinners in this blog. The next dinner's theme is German. I have in my head a notion about German food, so I was delighted when the host wanted to sample German culinary culture around the world - including Pennsylvania and East Texas.

My own family has German roots. My Stepmom's father was born in Germany. Until I started thinking about this meal theme, I didn't think that German had too much to do with the way I ate as a child and growing up. I'm changing my mind. My grandfather was a farmer in and Colorado. He always had a large garden and a root cellar. My grandmother raised chickens. I'm pretty sure they raised some pigs, too. Grandpa liked his sauerkraut. Grandma sometimes made him spaetzle, but more often chicken soup with biscuit dumplings.

I think underneath the food I grew up with was this Germanic theme that emphasized meat, root vegetables, and garden vegetables. We often baked our own bread and desserts. We rarely purchased prepared foods or ate out very much. The food was hearty and perhaps heavy, and often overdone.

So along comes this German-themed dinner. I decided to pick a place that was not Germany, but German-influenced. I also wanted to prepare a homey dish. I settled on a dish from the Alto-Adige region in Italy, Speck Knödel. It's a bread dumpling (as opposed to a biscuit dough or noodle dumpling) that uses Speck, a cured and smoked bacon imported from Alto-Adige.

Speck is hard to find in the greater Washington, DC area. I finally procured a (large) quantity from Antico Mercante in Atlanta, Georgia. It's a slab of bacon, and it has a subtle, smoked taste to it. I've been eating too much of it. It makes the Speck Knödel into a wonderful dish.

Of course, I get to experiment on Ron. I made this dish this weekend, and it tasted really good. I've had bread dumplings before, and they are often heavy. These were not. My Mother made a bread dressing and stuffing when I was growing up, and these dumplings taste a lot like that dressing. I think it's interesting how the form of food changes as it moves from place to place. Do noodles become spaetzle, then bread dumplings, and finally dressing? Maybe not, except that there remains a commonality of taste and ingredients. It's been a lot of fun exploring some (perhaps stretched) cultural culinary connections.

My Busy Week

Last week was (what passes for me) a busy week. I'm not altogether sure that it was a busy week, because when you are retired, it skews your sense of how the world works, but I think it was a busy week, when I reflect on it, which I do now that I'm retired and really have little else to do except to comment, reflectively, on my busy (or not so busy) week.

Monday started off with a SAGE - Metro DC meeting. That seems like weeks ago, but it was only last Monday. SAGE used to mean Seniors Active in a Gay Environment. Now, I'm not sure what it means. The organization didn't change its acronym, it just changed the words, which confuses the hell out of me. I can't keep up with all this change. Excuse me while I adjust my teeth. They are chattering. Afterwards, Joe and I went out to dinner at Sergio's a Salvadorean restaurant in the 'hood. It's pretty basic, and very good. Go for the taco special and for the pupusas. You can't go wrong with that advice.

Tuesday, Tim came over for some recreation, and we ended up at Sergio's for dinner. Imagine that - taco special twice in one week! The tacos are are white corn soft-shell filled with chopped meat and sauce, slathered with sour cream and guacamole. It's not for the faint hearted. The margaritas are good, too, but I opted out on Tuesday, because Tim and I headed out to Billy's for C1 dancing. Billy is a great caller, and it's a fun floor.

Wednesday made its way into my life. The day was cool, but sunny, so I took off for several hours of bike riding trails in Montgomery County. I explored the lower part of the Matthew Henson Trail, which branches off the Rock Creek Trail near Dewey and Randolph Roads. The trail is beautiful, and I want to go back and see how far beyond Georgia Avenue it runs. I biked 31 miles and called it a day.

I had been anticipating Thursday all week long. Thursday was the day of the DC Lambda Squares Annual Meeting. I spent much of the day preparing for the meeting, getting items printed, and preparing a report. The meeting went well, although I'm always nervous when I'm in front of a lot of people. We had a good turnout, and the beginning of a good discussion about the future of the club.

Friday dawned very early. I got up shortly before 5 a.m. and headed on down to the three husbands to get them off to the airport to Buffalo. Afterwards, Ron and I headed off to the Silver Diner for breakfast, where I received a call from Buffalo - Michael had forgotten Flat Margy, so I had to break into their suburban castle, kidnap Margy, and send her by overnight to the Crowne Plaza in Niagara Falls, New York. I couldn't figure out how to fix the lock box, so I'll return the keys when they get back.... The rest of the day is a blur. We had some soup, then watched a movie, although I haven't a clue at this point what it was.

Yesterday wasn't quite as eventful. I did my laundry, and stretched that out over several hours. I also sent out a flurry of DC Lambda Square-related emails. Sometimes the appearance of busyness is business. It salves my corporate guilt. Perry and I took a coffee break at Starbucks. We also discovered a comprehensive neighborhood bakery, which makes excellent eclairs. I made chili and cornbread for dinner. Ron fixed his famous Parmesan Cauliflower. It's simple food that's simply delicious.

And finally, today, the beginning of a new week. We'd put off shopping for several days, so I was preoccupied thinking about provisioning at Giant. It was Giant's Grand Re-Opening. Pretty weird if you ask me. But the store is offering a lot more selection in food, and vastly more shelf space for all of us mindless consumers. Today, I did some research for Caribbean recipes. I'll be trying them out on Ron for the next three weeks or so. Tonight was fried bananas. Okay, but I need a little work on my technique. Maybe there is a Jerk Chicken in my future. Is that similar to Choke a Chicken? Inquiring Minds Want To Know.

25 Random Things Since I last Blogged Here

No, I didn't disappear, I just couldn't get around to writing in my blog for a month or so. I apologize to my blog readers, everywhere. So here's the scoop:

1. I bought a walking stick. My knee has been a problem, so I went looking for a walking stick. REI carries a sleek one that doesn't make me look too much like an old geezer. It's adjustable, and it fits into my carry-on bag.

2. Because I was going on a sailing trip. Except that the walking stick looks like a gun, so I had to check the bag, anyway. But it was a very nice sailing trip with six other guys. Three of the guys were pretty experienced sailors. I pretended to cook. Actually, I made the food list and helped herd cats while shopping.

We sailed on a 40-ft monohull, the Wombat, and that's about as technical as I get. The captain would start talking about lanyard and halyard and mainsail, and I would hyperventilate. I had a small library with me, and I was working on those menus....

3. In the Caribbean. Ah, yes, this all took place in the Caribbean, more specifically, the British Virgin Islands. They use greenbacks there, too, but they only seem to go half as far. Markets in the BVIs are interesting places. The range of products is somewhat limited, but the prices are not. Near the moorings and anchorages, the markets cater to the sailors, and the products have a peculiar skew to them. More particularly, sailors apparently have a huge appetite for potato chips and alcoholic drinks.

One of the guys on the boat mixed rum punches every afternoon. It's a very civilized practice, and quite in keeping with local custom. His recipe is 1 part rum, 1 part tropical fruit juice, 1 part whiskey sour mix, a few drops of grenadine syrup for color, and a couple of dashes of bitters. Stir and serve over ice.

This is my second trip to the British Virgin Islands. This is a beautiful place, and well worth the visit, especially by sailboat. Check out the Baths and Gorda Peak on Virgin Gorda. Enjoy the beauty and the beach on Sandy Cay. Sail around the Dogs.

4. With a side visit to Puerto Rico. Before we found ourselves on Beef Island, we spent a long weekend in Puerto Rico. This was the first time that I had visited Puerto Rico, apart from spending many hours in the airport. We stayed at the Luquillo Sunrise Beach Inn. One of the guys, Lee, had lived in Puerto Rico, so he was our tour guide. He used to live near Fajardo, which is near Luquillo, so he knew the local area, and took us to all kinds of interesting places to eat.

Luquillo is outside San Juan, on Puerto Rico's northeast coast. The beach is very pretty, and we had a nice hotel. Every night, the local caballeros would ride their horses down the street in front of the hotel.

Lee took us to El Yunque Rain Forest and Las Cabezas de San Juan Nature Reserve. We also visited an unofficial nude beach, Playa Escondida, which is near the nature preserve. To get to the beach, park in the Seven Seas Beach parking lot, walk all the way to the west end of Seven Seas Beach, then walk north along the shore to Playa Colora, then cross the neck of land (there is a trail) separating Playa Colora from Playa Escondida. Public nudity is not permitted in Puerto Rico, so we were discreet (and respectful).

5. Sometimes conch tastes good. I once ate a conch fritter in Key West, and it seemed like a vastly overrated dish designed to separate tourists from their dollars. So when I saw conch on the menu in Puerto Rico (in a sandwich!), and on Tortola (in a fritter!), I was skeptical. The sandwich was outstanding. The conch was tender and tasty, just like my men. I think I had conch on three different occasions, and I was very pleased. It may be a tourist treat, but it's a tasty one.

6. Ron and I hosted a MGMC Potluck. Ho Boy! What a starry social gathering of Montgomery County's Gay A-List! About 30 guys showed up with dishes in hand. I made my famous Scalloped Potatoes. They were finished in approximately twenty-five minutes. I liked James's lemon pie, which he says consists of lemon juice, condensed milk, and Cool Whip^®. I googled the ingredients. Tim (the other Tim) stopped at Whole Foods and brought some potato salad and some vegan General Tso's Chicken. I slapped them in some serving dishes to avoid potluck shame. They were both tasty, too, because it's okay to cheat at potlucks, as long as you don't serve it in the store container.

I provided half-time entertainment when I caught my pants on the arm of the couch, then stumbled and took a gracefully 2-1/2 reverse turn dive into the corner landing behind the China dogs, and missing the glass table with the cloisonne fish. The gargoyle was also unharmed. I ended up with bruises all over my right arm. I did not break anything, and my dignity remained somewhat intact. The guys enjoyed the party (so did I!), nobody got hurt, and nobody went away hungry.

7. I visited my dermatologist. She saw my peeling, sunburned skin and tsked a bit. Can't say as I blame her. I had a good excuse. She froze three spots, an old one and two new ones. She has a certificate hanging in the examination room that says she attended a workshop in 1994. Should I ask her about that? She's African-American, and I'm always the only white guy in the waiting room, usually the only male, too. I think she's a great doc. She asks lots of questions, carefully explains treatment options, and she spends time with me. That's my kind of doctor! She's already cleared up a nasty skin infection that I had had for fifteen years, cleared up a skin rash, and now we're working on those actinic keratoses that appear in fair skinned men of a certain age. She's using Solaraze on it. So far, I haven't noticed any difference in my skin color (it reddens and dries out the skin). But I've been on it less than a week.

8. A guy in the mall tried to sell me drugs. (I think...) I had gone to the mall for a haircut, but my guy, Joe, couldn't see me for several hours, so I thought I go to Bubbles, and check it out. I got an appointment there if I could just wait fifteen or twenty minutes, so I did. I sat reading in a public area of the mall, and this guy walks up and starts chatting, (which is annoying if you are trying to read The Economist) commenting on my clothes, the time, asking me what I'm doing. He finally says something like, "I could get something for you, if you know what I mean." I replied, "No, I don't know what you mean." He smiled and walked off, turned on by his cell phone. Yep, right here in downtown Wheaton.

9. And I got a haircut. Mai Li cut my hair at Bubbles. The salon has an astonishingly awful web site. It loads slow and the Flash just doesn't do that much for me. Mai Li gave me an okay cut. I think, though, she was probably more interested in pushing product. It's more expensive than the Hair Cuttery, but not much. Okay, I'm cheap. And what kind of name is Hair Cuttery, anyway?

10. I bought some jeans. My old pair has a hole in the crotch and is extremely thin in the butt. I've had to wear underwear the last couple of weeks. I got a pair of Wranglers, "loose" fit. Cambodian Made. They are a little bigger cut than I like, but I'll get used to it. The old pair was regular fit, and I think that caused them to wear a little faster in the aforementioned places. I'm a big boy! While shopping for jeans, I also picked up some $9.99 shirts (at Target), Woody Woodpecker, Superman, and Iron Man. I'm now girded with protection.

11. I've been square dancing because cortisone works wonders. It took nearly two weeks for the cortisone to fully kick in, but it has. The knee pain is gone, so I've been square dancing. John Marshall, Ett McAtee, Bill Harrison, if they call C-1, I dance! Tim's been quizzing me on definitions. At Ett's on Monday, I nearly lost it completely. Some of the dancers blamed it on the full moon, but it certainly was some gothic (horrifying?) dancing! Quantum physics came into play when one of the dancers created an indeterminate wave-field while attempting to orient her spin to a head or a side wall. Observation of the experiment didn't help as she hovered between the two positions. The field finally collapsed and she found herself in the wrong position, in a much lower energy state. Quarks at work. It happened at the Cherry Hill Campground.

12. I've been keeping my boys happy, at least smiling. I missed my guys! I'm glad to be back. I was kind of horny, too, because it is possible to be in the middle of the Caribbean, in one of the world's most romantic places with six other gay guys, and remain somewhat frustrated and randy all at the same time. I think this is only a guy issue. So I was glad to see the boys, and I'm making up for anything that I missed.

13. You can't buy a brief-styled swimming suit in the mall. What is the world coming to? Evidently, straight guys are interested only in board shorts. I looked at Macy's Penneys, and Old Navy. The sales clerks clucked at me, and told me to come back when the seasonal clothing was in. Yah! Every direction, nothing but board shorts. Unflattering! Hey guys, what's up with this? I found some online, but it's definitely not the same shopping experience.

14. I predict that the California Supreme Court will uphold Proposition 8. Ron and I took a walk earlier this week. We have a regular path through the neighborhood. We were talking about California, and the Supremes. I'm betting they will uphold "the will of the people" because the court is elected, and the voters will kick them out of office. An elected judiciary is a dangerous, sometimes timid creature. Ron and I often have really important discussions on our walks. Here are some possible outcomes: The court could overturn Proposition 8, which I think is highly unlikely. It may, however, leave the 18,000 same-sex marriages in California intact. I think there's a good chance of that.

My own personal druthers is to have the state offer civil unions that must be performed by civil officers, then let anyone who wants to, get married by their priest or rabbi. The church should not be validating civil contracts between people who want to establish a domestic or civil relationship with each other. Get the church out of marriage.

15. Scalloped Potatoes. I can't help myself. These potatoes are good. These are not your usual scalloped potatoes.

7 T unsalted butter, divided
2 lb Golden Yukon potatoes, pared and sliced (1/8")
1 medium onion, sliced (1/8")
1 small green pepper, chopped
1/2 lb mushrooms, coarsely chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 c flour
2-1/2 c milk
1/2 lb Gruyere or sharp Cheddar cheese, grated
1/4 t cayenne pepper
1/2 t Louisiana hot sauce
salt and pepper, to taste
1/2 c chopped parsley (optional)

In a large, heavy skillet, melt 4 T butter over low heat. Add the onions, green pepper, mushrooms, and garlic, and cook over low heat until the vegetables are cooked down and soft, about a half hour. Stir the vegetables occasionally, while cooking.

While the vegetables are cooking, pare and slice the potatoes into a bowl of cold water. Drain and rinse the potatoes in a colander.

Butter a 13" x 9" pan with 1 T of the butter. Set the pan aside.

Stir the flour into the cooked vegetable mixture (keep the burner on low). Slowly stir in the milk, and bring to a boil over low heat. If you haven't already done so, you should grate the cheese, now....

While the sauce is cooking, arrange one-third of the sliced potatoes to cover the bottom of the prepared pan. Salt and pepper to taste. As soon as the sauce boils, stir in the grated cheese, and stir until all of the cheese is blended in. Stir in the cayenne pepper, hot sauce, and parsley. Remove the skillet from the burner.

Spread one-third of the cheese sauce over the potatoes. Layer one-half of the remaining potatoes, and salt and pepper them. Top with one-half of the remaining sauce. Top with the remaining potatoes and sauce.

Mix the bread crumbs and 2 T melted butter. Spread the bread crumbs on top of the potatoes. Bake in a 350° F oven for 45 minutes.

16. Why being condo treasurer is too much like work. Well, for one thing, I have to fill out spreadsheets and keep records. Then I have to pay taxes. I send out late fee notices. It goes on and on. If I pick up a few more gigs like this, I'm going back to the office.

17. I'm so gay. I grew a beard before I went to the Caribbean so that I could look like a pirate. When I came home, I went square dancing (with a bunch of gay guys), and they unanimously agreed that the beard should stay. One of the guys even told me that I looked hot. My profile on ManHunt has also been getting comments like, "Woof" and "Hey!". I'm going with the flow on this one.

18. I fell off the wagon, but the horse hasn't run over me yet. Cleaning the office has turned into a joke. I can't face that room. Tim suggested that I post a picture everyday on Facebook of the office, showing what progress I'm making in its cleaning. I may be reduced to that very soon. Stay tuned. This could turn very ugly very quickly. I'm thinking about it.

19. Three issues of the Economist remain pretty much unread. I'm rolling my eyes and wringing my hands. I'm so far behind. But I have to at least read this week's issue because it's the technology issue. All kinds of interesting stuff to read. I also like reading the obits.

20. This blog and every blog must be fed. I haven't written in here for nearly a month. I went on vacation, then I suffered blog fatigue. For those of you who wait breathlessly for each installment of my blog, I apologize. I hope that you haven't suffocated. The fact remains, I have to come up with something to say, and often I draw a total blank.

21. What are we going to do about Mexico? Ron and I watched a program on CNN about the drug war in Mexico. The United States should legalize drugs and regulate them in a way that effectively changes the government drug policy from one of criminal enforcement to one of public health. Legalizing drugs, although an imperfect fix, should have the same broad social effect as that of ending Prohibition. In the long run, we'll probably end up with more drug addiction, but possibly at a much lower cost to our society in terms of cost for police and prisons. The current "war" model keeps people out of treatment, and only enriches the cartels. It promotes a prison industry in the United States, and encourages gang wars in Mexico and other production and transit countries. It causes a huge human toll (over 8,000 murders in Mexico last year because of drugs). The best way to help Mexico's law enforcement in its drug war is for the US to end its drug war.

22. Computer envy. One of my friends (Brian J. you know who you are), has one of those teeny laptop computers. I get hard just thinking about his computer. Sleek, powerful, but small is really big when it comes to computers. I lust for it. Captain Rick on the sailboat also had a mini laptop (his was an Asus). In the meantime, maybe I'll forgo the swimsuit, and get myself a sexy computer, instead.

23. The Spanish Civil War and other light reading. I'm reading Antony Beevor's The Battle for Spain, The Spanish Civil War 1936 - 1939. It's a slow, depressing slog, not so much for the writing, but for the subject. The Nationalists appear to fascist monsters who engaged in a policy of wholesale terror and killing, and the Republicans who were so factionalized that their response to the Rising was fatally weakened. Each page of this book is depressing, but I'm trying to continue through it.

24. Convention Insanity. Less than a month from now, hundreds of gay square dancers will be in Washington, DC for DC Diamond Circulate. The age of procrastination is at an end. The convention is already raising contention on the national list serve. I'm guessing we're in for a lot of griping over the next four weeks.

25. Reconnecting with high school classmates. I've been making friends on Facebook. Many of my new friends are from Moscow High School, classes of 1968, and 1969. The class of '69's 40th reunion will be this August in Moscow. I plan on being there. I'm trying to drag my twin brother along, as well.

I Got Holes

Tim and I were in York, Pennsylvania for a Challenge-1 Square Dance Concepts weekend. We ate at the Farmer's Market on Saturday. It was a gay man's paradise.

"We Specialize in Holes" Photo by Tim Walton,
©2008 by Tim Walton, All Rights Reserved

A Flurry of Activity!

The New Year has picked up its pace, although the old year never really slowed down that much, either. Perry and I went shopping on Friday morning. We first went to the Container Store, because he wanted some magnets. Neodymium magnets. Really strong magnets. These magnets have an exceedingly strong magnetic force. They can cause irreparable damage to floppy disks.

From the Container Store, we ventured to Borders in White Flint. Oh, I love the joys and sights of Rockville Pike! Perry was looking for a calendar. I picked up a "calendar" that contains a recipe for every day of the year. Ron is already thumbing through it.

Saturday night, I made one of those recipes, Spanish Tortilla, for the Montgomery County Gay Men's Community potluck. It was held at a friend of Ron's, so we decided to go. Well, the house was about 7500 square feet or more, and fitted by what appeared to be a decorator from hell. The theme upstairs was Victorian, and downstairs an American diner. Let's say it was over the top, and not one personal touch in any part of the house that I could see: prints, no originals. I guessed no one lived here, they were just part of the display.

The food was good, although Ron and I disagree on how good. Ron's and my contributions were both finished by the boys. One of the hosts, John, made a meat and bean dish that was very tasty, and a cake from cornmeal that was very good, although Ron thought the icing was too sweet. Honey, I hate to break the news, but icing is supposed to be too sweet!

I also enjoyed the company. I had a nice conversation with Duane. I really need to be more social. I get shy (I know that's hard to believe) and stand around without talking to anyone. This time, I struck up a very "deep" conversation with Duane about the nature of belief. Duane wondered why one needs to believe anything. And my lame answer is because it provides a purpose-driven life. I'll have to think about that.

In the meantime, I've been working on my contact database throughout. It's not very exciting, but it contributes to my purpose-driven existence. Yeah, right!

On Sunday, January 4, Ron and I attended a party. It was a nudist event. Great food, and for once an occasion where I was not seeing iceberg-sized behemoths of jiggly flesh. Most of the men, while not gym-toned, had not gone completely to the dinner buffet for refills, year after year. What a relief for my sore eyes. I thoroughly enjoyed the company, and all that encompassed, as well as the buffet the host had set out.

Again, in this situation, I have to force my self to talk with the other guys. They proved very friendly. Two men from Alabama struck up a conversation with me, and I felt a lot like Scarlett O'Hara (even though, I know [rolling my eyes] that she's from Georgia). One of the guys roots for Auburn, and the other for University of Alabama. Seriously, gay men talking about football! Frankly, my geography gets mixed up anywhere South of the Mason-Dixon Line. I think I could grow to enjoy the company of some Southern Gentlemen.

So yesterday, I went to the doctor to clear up a nagging sinus infection that has dogged me since Portugal, and to figure out what's causing the really annoying pain in my right knee that has dogged me since Christmas. Some days have been miserable, and that's saying a lot from me.

I like my doctor. He's a DO who has been a very good doctor for me. His assistant cleaned the wax out of my ears. I've been very stuffed up, and my ears had clogged when I tried to clean them a week ago. I had been walking around in an echoey fog. The tinnitus is still pretty loud, but I can hear better; the fog is gone. She got a lot of gunk out! The doctor came in and gave me a pep talk. He's kind of hot with curly hair and a two-day growth with that lab coat! He told me to get off the Sudafed^® and start the Nasonex^®. He also prescribed some clarithromycin for the sinuses and meloxicam for the knee. Better living through chemistry, although NSAIDs do scare me.

In the afternoon, I went over to Tim's house. He had a plumbing emergency going on. I provided him with some plumber information, but I think he went with someone else. He had some lame, vague reason about wanting this plumber or that plumber. I hugely enjoy Tim's company, even if he is preoccupied with plumbing. (I'll do some plumbing!)

Last night, Ron and I enjoyed a PBS special about India. Like the nation, the special is a production, and will continue for many nights hence. I don't care much for the narrator (the story sometimes seems all about him), but the scope of the story and the images of a great and enduring nation are compelling.

At the end, I went to bed.

Scan It!

Ron and I were in Giant Foods during rush hour, and Ron was flying through the place, wanting to get to checkout before the hordes descended. I, on the other hand was dawdling, with a hand-held scanner, zapping each item Ron put in the cart. Wow! A new toy! I was having fun!

Here's the drill. When you enter the store, you scan your shopping card at the scanner stand and pick up a scanner. Then, as you shop, you scan the UPC code on each item you put in your cart. I was bagging as we went along. For produce, you weigh the item, print out a label, stick the label on your bag of produce, and scan the label. It sounds a little complicated, but it really isn't.

And it's fun to use that scanner gun, shooting up those UPC codes, and watching the cost of your purchases mount up on its bright and happy screen. The scanner also contains store specials that you can look through, then purchase. Nothing like advertising right at your fingertips, right when you are most likely to make a purchase!

At checkout, a "checkout" UPC code is displayed where you normally would unload your groceries. You zap the checkout code and scan your shopper card, and voila, your itemized list appears on the checkout screen. At that point, you simply pay and leave the store. Our wait in the checkout line lasted all of 45 seconds.

I think as I continue to use the hand-held scanner, the process will go a lot faster. The scanner is actually much more sensitive about picking up UPC codes than the scanner at the checkout counters. And think of all the labor costs this is going to save Giant shareholders! Giant can probably lay off some checkers, oh, the perils of technology.

Of course, the new technology does nothing for the lamentable quality and diversity in the Giant grocery offerings. For some reason, yesterday, the produce was completely sucky. Produce bags were hard to find. The parsley was limp (kind of like me without my blue pill). Parsnips were not to be found. Some of the bliss potatoes were rotting in their boxes.

Technology, like the hand-held scanner, may be a shining jewel in Giant's crown, but the crown is otherwise rapidly losing its luster.

T'Was Too Daze Before Christmas

Yesterday, I was in the mall getting a haircut. The crowds were thin, and I think any merriment in evidence was simply putting a rosy glow on the coal that's being delivered this Christmas. This is a glum Christmas for merchants and shoppers, two days before Christmas.

I was listening a to a financial show on the radio. A listener called in and mentioned that she was paying off her credit card debt. One of the panelists said that she needed to be spending instead, that if we didn't all spend, we'd end up in even a deeper recession. So, let me think.... I should keep on accumulating credit card debt at a 22% interest rate; it's patriotic. I'm so confused!

This is a weird economic time. Lawmakers talk about regulation, but the horse has already left the barn. Consumers want relief, but don't want the consequences of declining equity value. It's a great time to buy into the stock market, but people are afraid to buy for fear of an even larger slide.

Christmas isn't so jolly. Shoppers and merchants are in a funk. St. Nick only needs four reindeer this year. Rudolph has been laid off, and the elves are trying to renegotiate their labor contract. No bailout or bridge loan for the North Pole unless Christmas proves its viability. Santa told me that he's trying to take the bah out of humbug, but it's a tall order this year.

I Have a New Toy

I'm forgetful. In fact, you can ask me something, give me a date, or tell me your name, and within about 15 seconds, it's history. Nothing registers anymore. Oh, I mean, I can still function (like a rutabaga), but it requires real power lifting for me to retain brand new information. Something has to be repeated at least six or eight times, and even then, it's about a fifty-fifty chance of retention.

But, no more! I am now the grateful owner of the Olympus NV-3200PC Digital Voice Recorder! This is a little gadget, smaller than a small cell phone that can record up to 54 hours of the stuff that I'm always going to forget. Plus, it has the added bonus of recording my greatest thoughts, and also profound insights that I want to memorialize in this blog. I'm expecting great results from this technological helper brain. You should see a marked increase in the quality, if not quantity of my blog entries. I think you'll be impressed, and will probably want to go to Radio Shack and purchase one for yourself.

Ron already cringes when he notices that I have it in hand. I tend to harass him with my new toys. The unit has very high quality playback fidelity. I'm sure I'll think of all kinds of interesting uses for it. When I have this stuck in my pocket, I have new confidence, yes, I'll remember that factoid. It won't escape me anymore.

Pad Thai on Bucknell Terrace

I'm not exactly Thai, although I did know a Thai foreign student in Moscow, Idaho in the mid-60s. I've been wanting to make Pad Thai for years. It's one of my favorite foods. Whenever I would look at a recipe, the list of ingredients and the preparation looked daunting, but no more!

A while ago, I bought Ron a Thai recipe book, Simply Thai Cooking (Young and Ayanoglu, Robert Rose, 1996, Toronto, Canada). I've only cooked two recipes in it: one for Pad Thai, and the other for roasted chilies. In the last 25 years, I've eaten lots of Pad Thai, but the recipe in this book (on page 76) produces a dish that is every bit as good as I've had in any Thai restaurant.

Yes, the ingredient list is a little daunting, but if you buy the tamarind paste, you'll be able to make three or four batches of Pad Thai (yummm!). In the local Asian grocery, I was confronted with dozens of varieties of fish sauce (an essential ingredient for Pad Thai and many other Thai dishes). I went to the Internet, used my trusty Google, and purchased a recommended brand (Golden Boy) for a whopping $1.69.

So tonight, I fixed Ron some Pad Thai. What a satisfying meal. This is the kind of experience that only whets my appetite for additional Thai culinary adventures. Stay tuned.

My Huge Basket

Okay, Tim, this one's for you! Tim's been demanding a picture of my basket.

Happy's Huge Basket

This basket is a shameless promotion for Starbuck's, with a side plug for Bed Bath and Beyond. Special thanks goes to Perry, who went shopping with me at the Woodmoor Starbucks. I don't know what I was thinking when I went with the theme, "For the Morning After, There's Starbuck's." I mean, how lame can I get? I was probably having a bad ManHunt day, or maybe I was thinking of melancholy John McCain supporters. On the other hand, a nice cup of coffee from freshly ground beans isn't the worst way to start the Morning After.

The basket will be raffled away this weekend in Shepherdstown, WV at the HFH XIV! square dance fly-in. It will be one of many huge baskets, donated by hunky, chunky, and lanky guys and gals looking for all kinds of fun and all kinds of square dance programs, as well as contra and country western. Maybe you should head up to Shepherdstown, and my huge basket could be yours, and not just for the evening, either..., but for the morning after!

Field Trip on Frederick Rd.

Ron and I had an errand in Gaithersburg this morning (something about flying kitchen drawers needing repair), and drove past the county's waste recycling center. So on the way back we stopped in. Ron had seen an article in the Washington Post (KidsPost page), and thought it might be interesting.

It is! As you enter the driveway into the facility, there is a parking lot on the right in front of the Recycling Center where you can park. (Otherwise, you drive all around the facility and the waste transfer facility.) The center has an information room that tells you all about the county's recycling efforts. It also gives an overview of the recycling activities in the center.

After we read the information in the information center, we walked upstairs (be sure to get your earplugs!), and walked out on a mezzanine above the facility floor. From the mezzanine, we could see the various sorting activities, trucks bringing recycled goods into the center, and trucks taking recycled paper out of the facility. We arrived during lunch break, so we got to see all the workers get to their positions, then the machinery start up. It's an amazing collection of conveyor belts, bins, and exciting activity. Any guy who likes gears, belts, machines, and dirt will love this place.

The work looks like it's grimy and monotinous. I appreciate the employees (I think the center has about 30 people working on a shift), because they take care of the recycled waste of a million people, and the workers do it every day.

The visit is also eye-opening, because of the amount of waste that county residents generate. The visit reminds me (yes, this is a civics lesson) that I need to be cognizant of my purchases, and my habits. Some tips: the county now accepts more plastic items than it used to, including margarine tubs and lids. Also, you can recycle steel cans and their lids. Empty plastic drink bottles before putting them in the recycly bin (the extra weight sometimes gets them dumped on the wrong conveyor belt). Finally, quit using the plastic bags offered to you. Take some reusable bags the next time you go shopping.

Ouch!

New Refrigerator

A new refrigerator has come into our life. It was delivered this morning before 9 a.m. Two earnest, young delivery men showed up on our doorstep shortly before Ron had breakfast. I had already emptied most of the retiring fridge, but I certainly didn't expect the men from Appliance Land knocking at our door quite so early.

The retiring refrigerator still worked like a charm, but it was 41 years old, and its estimated energy cost was about $250/year, which is about five times what the new refrigerator will cost to operate. The new refrigerator will pay for itself in about five years as a result of energy savings. The expected life of the new one is about 10 years. I had done some research, and Ron did, too, then we went to Appliance Land on Thursday afternoon and inked the deal.

This refrigerator is going to take some getting used to. It makes noticeably more noise than the old one. It's also white and shows up every smudge. On the plus side, it's much larger than the 14 cubic foot one that we had.

Beaten, but not Bowed

So the guys bring the refrigerator up to the front door and wheel it in the front hallway. We have an island in the middle of the kitchen, and one of the guys felt that the island was going to make it difficult to move in the refrigerator. He asked me if it could be moved, and I told him it was on rails, but could be lifted up over the rails and moved out of the way.

He and I grabbed the island's countertop (a voice was screaming in my head: "Empty out the pots and pans before you move the island!!!!"). I'm quite good at ignoring myself. The top fo the island popped off, the island came crashing down on my left toe, and the drawer in the island went flying across the kitchen and ended up in pieces, along the quantities of kitchen gadgets accumulated over the last 19 years, and stored in that drawer.

Island sans Countertop

So this is what the island looks like now: the countertop is leaning against it, and the drawer is in three different pieces in the living room, waiting to be taken to a furniture shop for rebuilding on Monday. The drawer contents are in a box in the dining room. You'd be surprised how inconvenient it is to have all your kitchen gadgets packed in a box in the living room. I hope the furniture shop guys can repair the drawer quickly.

In the immediate aftermath, Ron felt a little queasy, after I told him about my toe. I told him to get on with his breakfast, and I started putting all of our food into the new refrigerator (focus on the immediate situation!). I also wiped some yogurt off of a cupboard, the victim of the exploding island. Eventually, things calmed down.

So after the catastrophe (which is really overstating it), Perry came over to consult about the countertop. Then he and I made a list and headed off to Home Depot. I like shopping. I bought some glue, Dep 10-Minute Hair Clog Remover, two wood clamps, two screwdrivers, ten wood screws, and the fall issue of "Fresh," a magazine full of goodlooking recipes.

By the time I got home, the toe was really bothering me. We couldn't find a bowl suitable for soaking it (my foot isn't big, but most bowls aren't big enough), so we ended up putting some water and ice in a small cooler. It fit my foot, and brought some immediate pain relief.

Tomorrow, I'm going to fill in the screw holes in the island countertop, and attempt to install it (I did it the first time, 18 years ago, so I might as well give it another whack). I'm also going to try to repair the splintered fiberboard in the drawer with some glue and filler (hence the wood clamps). I'm taking the drawer to a furniture repair place on Monday to fix it properly.

So that's been pretty much my day.

Portugal Looms

I visited my travel agent yesterday. The vacation across the Big Pond is taking over my head. I'm twenty days from departure. I've been a little more focused on the trip this week. I tend to get overwhelmed, thinking about the details. So I've been concentrating on actually doing things that will get me to and from Portugal.

After seeing Ms. Travel, I went to Barnes and Noble and purchased a couple of maps of Portugal. Between them and the Lonely Planet tour book, I'm going to start laying out a more definite itinerary for me and my sister.

We fly into Madrid and spend three days there. There were lots of things I didn't get to see the first time, so I'm looking forward to seeing the city again, and doing some more exploring. I especially want to go back to the Prado and spend several hours there. I need to dust off my Madrid tour book and my Spanish phrase book. Homework!

I've also ordered some travel clothes and a new backpack, and I need to get a European adapter for my computer and battery charger. I haven't decided completely whether to take my computer, but it would be nice to have it with me on the road. I also need a security wallet and a secure strap for my camera.

I've started a Portugal folder to put all my travel papers, passport, tickets, and reservations. My theory is that if I act like I know what I'm doing, I might actually know what I'm doing. My sister and I are excited and are getting ready to roll.

Busy, Busy

I'm not equating busyness with productivity, but I felt a little like the Energizer Bunny^®. I got up, made myself some breakfast, read the paper, then got a wild idea to mop the kitchen floor. At this point, I started my laundry. I mean, if you're going to mop the floor, you might as well run a couple of loads of laundry. After that it was off to the gym. When I got home I wrote my brother a birthday card, then Ron and I walked to the Post Office, after which we walked to Safeway and did a little food shopping. About this time, I really needed a drink (I'm so grateful for cocktail shakers!), then I steamed some broccoli for a salad. I answered some emails, purchased an airline ticket, reserved a rental car, and made a hotel reservation for trip to Idaho in November. I finished making the rest of the salad - chopping celery, slicing tomatoes, sauteing garlic, grating carrots, the usual, (I made another cocktail) then I cooked the ravioli, warmed up the pasta sauce, and set the table for dinner. After dinner, I watered all the pachysandra, which meant repeatedly filling a bucket full of water, and traipsing down the path to the thirsty little plants. (I just about killed them, but I think I'm nursing most of them back from the brink.) Now, I'm writing in here, then I'll read the Economist before going to bed. This is what I mean about retirement - I have a lot to do, but not an awful lot to show for it.

Homo Genre

I don't mean to be a social critic, but Genre Managzine wants me to renew my subscripton. Now don't get the wrong idea - I never actually paid for a subscription in the first place. But somehow I've been receiving the magazine for the past year, and it even has my name on the subscription label.

I'm not claiming that Genre is shallow, or anything like that. But after you have read an issue or two, you realize that if you are 57, this magazine isn't for you. Maybe I should use skin moisturizers, but I have different priorities. Maybe I should be interested in the latest dance music, but only if it's 4/4, and I can square dance to it.

In this magazine, gay men don't live a day over 45, all of the men are beautiful, and I assume they just die early deaths, or something like that. All of the guys want to get married, and they all want to be dads. All of them want monogamy, and most of them tend toward a certain bland, conservative self-righteousness. Some of the men profiled even admit that John McCain would make a good President.

This is a magazine for shallow, young, good-looking men. In fact, no other kind of gay man exists in this magazine. Why would I want to pay money for a magazine that makes my incredibly wonderful life completely invisible?

Mean Spirited

Usually when I use the words, "mean spirited," I'm talking about someone else. But sometimes it applies to me, too. Like yesterday after I got up. I must have gotten up on the wrong side of bed and taken some meanie pills, because I was a regular grouch, Happy with Bad Attitude and Bed Hair. I knew it would pass, but stay out of my way while I'm bad.

The person who suffers me most is Ron. And I'm publicly apologizing in this forum for sometimes (well... many times?) being snappish and nasty (in the bad sense) to him. If I ever treat any of you, my dear readers, this way, it usually isn't because I'm angry with you, it's just Happy being mean spirited. A walk, some food, maybe an extra coffee, a shopping trip, any combinations of the above will usually return my attitude to its normal sunny, sarcastic self, and you'll all be quite relieved.

Yesterday's experience involved computer hardware and software that was behaving badly, Ron trying to be helpful, me willfully taking Ron shopping* to a store that he wasn't all that excited to go to. I mean, it kind of gets diabolical. And I could feel it's hold on me, and I really had to restrain myself, which is scary, considering how mean I was being while restraining myself.

I don't like acting like Dick Cheney's public persona. I never auditioned for it, but I have it in spades sometimes. I don't know what kicks it off (well, Dick Cheney does), and I really do not like myself when I'm behaving so badly. It's my dark side, and my not-so-secret self. It's a mental thing, and it is hard to shake off when I'm feeling it, but happily, it usually passes very quickly, like bad gas at a cocktail party.

So if I appear ticked off, just give me wide berth for a half hour or so, then check back in. I'll probably be fine.

* After a few minutes, Ron did get kind of excited about shopping (Trader Joe's, what's not to love?) and by that time, my mood was out of the danger zone. Sweetie, I can be such a lunk, sometimes, and I'm sorry.

New Wheels

New Wheels in Parking Spot

Today has been eventful. We brought home a brand new 2008 Prius from the Darcars Toyota. If you ever want to buy a Toyota, talk to Alex. He's a hustling sales consultant who refuses to be undersold. If you speak Russian, you'll probably get an even better deal.

This purchase is the culmination of a fair amount of research, plus some visits to other car dealers, too. Ron and I did our homework, and we're pleased (though a little stunned) with the deal. The coolest gadgets in the car are a GPS navigation system and BlueTooth. I haven't paired my phone with the car yet, but you know it's coming. Undoubtedly, this car will be fodder for some additional blog posts.

What Gay Men Do on Sunday Mornings

We go to the Silver Diner, and we shop at Whole Foods. Yep, the boys were on the prowl on Rockville Pike. We are such a merry crew. I wore my Santa hat, figuring it fitted the occasion. It's a very grey day out with thick fog in Wheaton. But we went out anyway. Ron tried a new item at the Diner: peanut butter and banana stuffed French toast. The concept was great, but it had too much peanut butter. Perry and I stuck to our usual pork products.

The scene at Whole Foods was a little desperate. People clogged the aisles looking for that special something that will turn Christmas dinner into something memorable. I did my desperate shopping on Friday, so I could inwardly gloat at the discomfort of others today.

I finally hung Kat's watercolor of the Palouse Hills in the living room. It is a beautiful picture. The wall behind and around it really needs repainting. I guess that's another retirement project. This time, I measured very carefully before hanging the picture, and I think I did a pretty good job of it. Ron usually complains (with justification) about how badly I hang pictures, but he hasn't seen it yet. On the other hand, the picture always looks better on the wall than sitting on the floor looking very lonely.

Kat's Watercolor

Kat's one of my sisters. She's an artist who lives in Moscow, Idaho. I really enjoy her work. This watercolor captures just about everything I love about the Palouse Hills.

Now that I'm Retired

I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.... Today I finished up the Christmas cards. I also need to go to Target and get a pair of jeans. I ripped out my crotch (really!) while square dancing last night. This was potentially far worse than Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction. I wasn't wearing any underwear, and I was quite concerned about my equipment. We're talking about a rip that starts directly at my crotch, and proceeds six inches down my right leg. Very scary dancing.

While seeing Tim on Saturday, he and I made reservations at a steakhouse for Christmas Eve for the four of us (+Perry and Ron). We figured all of us could find something on the menu. Perry vetoed a tapas restaurant, and I'm betting that Ron probably had a sigh of relief over that. In any case, I'm sure we'll have lots of fun. You'll undoubtedly read more about it here.

New Shoes

My tennies are just about dead - no sole. So I went to the mall to get new shoes. I like free enterprise, but I can't even begin to fathom the fruits of the capitalist system when it comes to athletic shoes: walls and walls of shoes, and no explanation to differentiate the product. The "sales associate" was not a great deal of help, either.

It appears that Nike is the king of shoes. The ratio is about 90:1, and that 1 includes all the competition. This was true in three different shoe stores. Nike has niched its product into several hundred slices, but I can't tell what slice is mine. I finally erred on the side of cheapness. They are ugly but serviceable, and halfway comfy. I can live with it.