Snowy Blah Chachouka

It's cold today, and a light dusting of snow on the ground. Not the kind of morning where ya rise and shine. Nonetheless, I awoke at a bit before five to read the news and such. Good day for chachouka, a Moroccan/Tunisian dish, and coffee.

Here's what ya do [spices are what I whip together - you can choose yer own]:

Thinly slice some peppers. I use green peppers because of the cost factor, but any bell pepper will do. I then dice 'em, and do the same with garlic cloves and onions. Sautee these veggies in olive oil - I use a wok with enough oil to cover the bottom. Once they get somewhat translucent, I drop in a can of Italian tomatoes in juice [crushed or diced, no matter]. Let this cook down, stirred up, covered. I put in cumin powder, turmeric, white pepper, basil and red pepper flakes.

Once the stew has cooked down a bit [20 minutes or so, stir occasionally to keep it from sticking/browning], crack in eggs. I used three this morning. You can poach 'em, or like I did today, turn off the heat and cover, letting sit for ten minutes or so. This way, they were sunny side up, good for dipping with bread.

Serve over rice with bread for dipping into the eggs. Yummy and filling.

Today, I also enjoyed Caribe` coffee ["for the Latin taste"] with a pat of butter stirred in, Abyssinian-style. No sugar or cream. Goes nicely with chachouka.

Great way to start a frigid morning.

Once I finish my repast, I will do my bills and hope the wind stops blowing. Maybe around noon I will go for a run on the beach. It's 34 F outside [back in Detroit, I ran in as cold weather as 7 F, so layer up!]

This afternoon and evening, football!
Think I'll make glop for that ;-)

1/19 Snow Falling Apropos

January Nineteenth.
I went on active duty on that day in 1985. Aviation Officer Candidate School, NAS Pensacola, Florida. Ice was falling from the sky. We got yelled-at a lot. [Think of that movie, An Officer and a Gentleman, only not as quiet or polite.]

Virginia Beach and Norfolk, 23 years later. Flakes coming down. Dig the subtle irony. I'd be a Commander by now, maybe a Captain, even, if I had stayed in. I'd be a different person, for certain. No worries.

Ow!

Man, I am hurting. Not a good reason for not posting, but I've been getting a couple of hours of sleep each night [no, not due to activity!!].

I have aggrievated my left rotator cuff [non-throwing side]. Originally, I had suffered some inflammation to the area back in '01, when I wrecked my mountain bike [remember?]. Not entirely sure, but I was on the phone with my pal, Mallory, a week ago and slouched against my truck's door [stretching the left side.....] Next morning when I awoke, I was hurting. It has gotten better. Strangely, it did not hurt yesterday in the daytime, maybe because I was at home and could eat ibuprofen every couple of hours and rub down with IcyHot. Can't get comfortable while lying down and refuse to sleep sitting up.

Any nurses out there? Yes, I know I am abusing myself somewhat, what with dosages of ibuprofen, and Monster Energy drinks and coffee, and sleeping aids..... count backwards, then, from the end of my life, and we'll be square. All things must pass. George Harrison said that.

Fuelled

Folks, I am angry with mob mentality and bloodlust, and I am spouting off here.
If you are easily offended, might want to sit this one out.
Charmaine, use your best judgement.

I am sick to death of sanctimonious sons of bitches. Allow me to explain: Jim Leyritz drove while intoxicated, and while his license was suspended. He ran a red light, and struck another vehicle. The driver of the other car, Fredia Ann Veitch, a mother of two children, was killed.

There's a lot of people out there in the blogosphere preaching. Her name was Fredia Ann Veitch. If you are going to preach to me, you sanctimonious sons of bitches, at least do grant her the decency of identification. She had a name. Fredia Ann Veitch. Don't pontificate as though you know something special, something priviledged because you are expressing your opinion: Jim drove drunk and caused an accident in which Fredia, a person whom he knew and was friends with, died. You do her injustice when you do not name her. She died.

Fredia lies dead.
Jim's life is destroyed.
Those of you out there who call for Jim's head on a platter, what does it matter? Should I be impressed by your sanctimonious anger at his transgression? His life is destroyed by his terrible choice. Do not say, nay, do not think that I am condoning Jim's poor decision. The man has a history of alcohol induced poor decisions, and this last one cost someone, a friend of his no less, Fredia Ann Veitch, a mother of two, her life. Jim will pay according to the penal system, and rightly so. Castigating Jim won't bring her back. Castigating Jim does not make you knowing or powerful in my eyes. No, you are just another pathetic band-waggoning loser, homes, and
you can chupo mi huevos, you sanctimonious, pathetic wretch. Why don't you go bugger a dai-oni, homes? Fucking wankers.

Fredia is dead.
Jim is destroyed.
Stop trying to make a name for yourself through slander.
We're on to your games, pathetico.
Go suck on a ruger, motherfuckers;
hope you catch the perfect sturm.
Fuck off and die.

Daruma of Japan

Hoshi chan o watakushi no tomodachi wa daisuki desu, konban wa!
Dearest friend who I like so greatly, good evening!

Today I drove home from work and decided that I did not feel like cooking. I walked approximately two blocks to the northwest to dinner, at Daruma of Japan, and I am very glad that I decided to.

You see, it had caught my eye on many occasions, yet I did not venture inside. Have I explained my connection to Nihon? I took Japanese as my language requirement in high school and in college [sadly, I remember chisaii n desu ne..... very little!] My first mother-in-law was Aiko Kamimura, from Kobe. We're still fine, although her daughter could be swallowed by an Oni for all I care. My boys are exactly 1/4 Japanese, as a result.

So, it is a pleasant little restaurant, clean and friendly. The waitress asked me where I would like to sit, so I chose a table right in the middle. There is also a sushi bar area, but I was close enough to chat with the sushi chef, who is also the owner. Pleasant chap, very likeable.

I chose Kirin Ichiban [#1 Dragon] for my beverage; I am partial to deer-dragons [and beer-dragons, coincidentally!]. The waitress was excellent at never allowing me to pour any from the bottle into the [correct, I might add] beer glass. Very attentive.

The house appetizer was tuna chunks, served warm, in a sweet and tangy sauce. Very nice!!

I also ordered gyoza, the steamed pork-filled dumpling, which is one of my faves. They were just right, lightly browned and moist inside. Delectable.

For dinner, I ordered the combination tempura [ten` pura if you want to get technical on the Romaji]; it came out as shrimp, sweet potato, and broccoli, with shredded daikon [Japanese radish]. I always liked having dinner at Aiko's house when she would make tempura [her husband hated Japanese food!]; she enjoyed getting to cook Japanese food for people who appreciated it :-) This was tastier, though.


Dinner came with an ordinary lettuce salad and radish strings in a ginger dressing. Both refined and tasty :-)

Typically, dinner is served with miso shiru, a standard soy soup, but I elected for pumpkin soup, which was very smooth and had a wonderful flavor. Seasonal.

Had a nice conversation with Anastasia from Siberia, the blonde and svelte Russian waitress. Nice girl, and very attentive. Made sure she got a big tip.

Grapes for dessert as I was too full for ice cream, and the owner's wife had made Christmas cookies, so I was given a nice little cellophane bag of them to carry along for later. I thanked the owner and made sure he knew I appreciated the hospitality very much. I closed by telling him gochisooo sama deshita, it was truly a feast!

I live two blocks away.
I will surely be back.

Hope you enjoyed the story.
One day, you must accompany me there!
Have a great evening.

Chuck

Merry Christmas, Everybody!!

Gotta admit, it does not seem to Christmassy around here. I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong, it is just non-traditional, that's all.

Virginia Beach. It IS cold right now, probably 38F or so ;-) No snow. Once the sun comes up proper, I may go for a run on the beach. It's 5.2 miles to Rudee Inlet and back. Location, location, location.

Gotta work tomorrow. Not enough vacation time [or money!] to visit everyone in Atlanta, so I am here. I'll phone over in a little while, though.

No tree, don't need the additional expense, and finding a place for it in this apartment would be problematic anyhow. Certainly not a live tree [shedding, and whatnot].

For Christmas feast, I am opening with heart of palm salad, followed by fried catfish, hush puppies, and Miller Chill Chelada style beer beverage, just the thing to go with fried fish. Might even have pecan pie and coffee for dessert.

So, please do not feel sad on my behalf, friends. I'm not sad, not at all :-)
Merry Christmas, everyone!!

Chuck in '79

This is me. Who else, eh?

Gainesville, Florida, 1979.

Go Gators!!

At the time, I was getting ready to go to work at Pic 'n' Save [hence the collar and tie and the awful, hideous vest].

This house was on Northwest 37th Terrace, just off NW 8th Avenue; Jo Ann [my sis] and I and Mama lived there for one year while Jo and I were in college.

I'm leaning on my '68 Firebird. 400 inch V-8 4-speed Muncie, headers, 4 barrel Rochester Quadrajet. Convertible. Sadly, it cost WAY too much to maintain, so I had to let it go. :-(

My Mountain Bike Story

I like to bike.
That was short poem, but it's the truth, too!
I have a mountain bike, a 21 speed [3 front, 7 rear gears]. It's a Magna, and it's heavy [I could have purchased lighter, but lighter = more expensive, and heavier = more of a workout, so I opted for cheaper ;-)]. Got front and rear shock absorbers, which is kinda cool - I like the configuration pretty well. Made one modification, as I have changed the brake pads to Aztec composites from the original rubber stoppers.

There's trails around here, so they say, but I have not checked them out yet. When I lived in Michigan, there was a county park with many trails nearby. I used to go riding there, enjoying cutting across the prairie, stopping to look at the lake, challenging the hills. Very wooded, almost got run over by a doe and a couple of fawns who were jmping across the trail!

Once, I wrecked my bike [I have had it rebuilt and safety-checked]. I was coming back from the park along the asphalt bike path, and when I pulled up on the handlebars to cross a curb , the front wheel and tire kept going straight. It became in slow motion [I realized that riding a horizontal unicycle was not a good idea!] and the front forks dug into the path, causing me to flip forward. I still have scars on the back of my hands, where they landed between the handlebars and the pavement.

I managed to turn my head slightly, but still hit pretty hard. I still have my shades and helmet. The sunglasses look like someone has taken a wire wheel to them, and the helmet is crushed in front - I'd have had a skull fracture for sure if I was not wearing it, and maybe would have died or suffered brain damage. As it was, I broke my nose, and have a scar on my upper lip where it tried to stop and the rest of me did not wish to. Nice scar on my shoulder road rash], and an inflamed rotator cuff on the other shoulder.

At the emergency room, a plastic surgeon was on duty, so I got stitched up really nicely. Later, when the swelling went down enough, he would set my nose as the fracture was displaced. Here's the funny part: doc's name was Mohammed Ali [almost like the boxer!!]. I looked like I had had business with Muhammed Ali, for sure!!

To keep my nostrils from growing shut, he inserted plastic tubing in each nostril. I had a gauze underneath in case there was leakage, and I wore a little mask over that so it would not look so bad. So, when I went to work later [I missed two days after the crash and three days a week later after getting my nose set], I was sitting at my computer when Kim, whom I worked with, came in. I turned around to see who was coming into the office, and she gasped!!! So [imagine a nasally voice, as though I was pinching my nostrils shut and talking at the same time], I asked "What is it?". She laughed and said, you reminded me of Hannibal Lecter [Anthony Hopkins' character from the movie "Silence of the Lambs".] Man, I loved the recognition.

Getting the tubes out a week later was welcome, but still not pleasant. The air was cold and sweet [although I had a nosebleed for a while], and as I sat in the recovery room, the lights went out!! All was well, I sure wasn't going anywhere ;-)

Anyway, I still ride. The bike is fine, and my nose is actually better now than ever [I think I had broken it, non-displaced, a couple of times playing football and baseball, so now that annoying lump at the top is gone. There IS an interesting crevice at the top, where the cartilage connects to the bone. It's not visible, but you can feel it. Remind me, and I will let you feel it for yourself. I think it's hilarious.]

That's my story ;-) and it's true! Have a great day.

Thoughts on the Baseball Hall of Fame

The Hall is not one conscious thought process, but more of a collection. There is no rhyme nor reason, really. Jim Rice is not in, but Ted Williams was also rude to reporters. Of course, Ted was one of the handful of best hitters, ever, so maybe he was past the point of debate? In such case, where is the line of no debate? Rice was feared, no doubt about that. Rice put up some monstrous numbers - should he be in The Hall?

Pete Rose is currently banned. Should he be in? I say that he is past the line of doubt: meaning, his numbers alone are good enough to get him in. His gambling is not really the issue here, but the integrity of the game. He consorted with big money gamblers, and there might have been cause for him to negatively affect outcomes. Here's my take on this: Cooperstown is about recognition. Pete had over 4000 hits. He belongs in the Hall of Fame. He consorted with shady figures who might have had an interest in "affecting" performances. For that, he has been banned from participating in the game, and rightfully so.

Since we are discussing the distinction between being banned from the game and entry into the Hall of Fame, let's add one additional tragic figure: "Shoeless" Joe Jackson. He consorted to a far lesser degree than Pete. Indeed, he knew of the World Series fixing in 1919 in advance, but did not come out and report it. Reckon he feared for his well-being? Joe Jackson has paid his dues. He belongs in the Hall of Fame.

The Hall is about awareness. Pete and Shoeless Joe had major roles to play in the baseball of their times. They belong in. The Hall should have a display near their plaques, educating visitors about their controversy. Why was Jackson banned? Why was Rose controversial? The Hall is about awareness. They belong in.

Barroid? Big Mac? Swingin', Sneezin' Sammy? Same thing applies here. They did what they did. The Hall is about awareness. They belong in, along with the display of education, letting us know about them and their deeds. To not put the 5 players I have mentioned into the Hall of Fame is as though MLB has its head buried in the sand. Doesn't work too well for ostriches, either.

'Roid Rage

I posted this over at The Post, in response to what many people were saying. Aside from the general [annoying] hysteria of anti-Yankee propaganda put out by Red Sock Haters and Yankee Bandwaggoners, there is a silent throng who is not that affected, and a select few who see a bigger [more sinister] picture. Rock on, Sistah!

Good points, people.
Like the ape suit tells us, the show goes on, and the stigma of juicing runs deep. For every Yankees player who juiced, there are DOZENS of others who did so as well. People howling that there should be an asterisk [that's right, folks, "asterisk", please get it right] by the Yankees WS wins in '96, '98 - 2000 are missing the point. Every team had juicers. Some teams managed to win the championship, some did not. All of this talk of little stars is purely Yankee-bashing, and yes, we get it: you don't like the Yankees. Fine. 26 titles will engender that, and when yer larger-than-life, there will be envy and even hate. I'm okay with that.

Now, on to what Tanya was talking about. All of this current media frenzy is exactly what Bud Selig was hoping that the Mitchell Report would generate. You see, all of the media's sensationalist types are having a field day at the expense of players [many Yankees, many others too]; the Springer-esque sheep amongst us are predictably bleating about Rocket being a cheat, Andy being a cheat, asterisks, blah blah blah. Why is Bud happy? Because the frenzy is not directed at him. Bud was Commissioner when much of this was occurring. He tried to keep the peace [and thereby, keep the profits going]. He and his minions looked the other way. They shied away from confronting the union. They refused to crack down on their cash cow. They made the deal with the Devil and are now gleefully hearing "Bad Yankees! Bad Rocket! et cetera" which puts the spotlight exactly where they want it - somewhere other than on Bud Selig and MLB. Notice how Sen. Mitchell recommends that no player be punished for past transgressions [with a caveat, I understand] - first time a disciplinary action comes up based on this report, the union will go nuts. Not what MLB wants.

So, what IS the big deal? It's not so much individual performance. We all love tape measure home runs [unless we threw the pitch that got whacked]. When Ben Johnson ran his 9.79, I was astounded. True, he used a performance enhancer, and that gave him an unfair advantage, but it was still amazing. The big deal is competitive advantage: Player A uses steroids [as an example]. Player A builds bulk and recuperates faster, and gets a little bit better fast twitch.
All of this gives him the competitive advantage over Player B, who does not use any banned performance enhancers. Player A is a better player as a result [in this example, all other factors are equal], and wins the job. Player B is cut from the team for not being as good, and loses his job. Player A exhibits all sorts of problems, such as raging behavior, back acne, brittleness of body structure, and eventually, a tumor. Player B, now out of the game, suffers none of the symptomology, but has to work for a living like the rest of us average Joes.

Now, let’s go a bit south and a little bit before the major league scene... Question, do steroids [for example] work only on major leaguers? OF COURSE NOT! Many kids from San Pedro de Macoris, for example, all trying to impress the staff at the baseball academy, having decent meals and steady work perhaps for the first time in their life and desperate to make it in baseball. Maybe some give in to the temptation? Maybe MLB could do something other than look the other way? What is the morally right thing to do, as opposed to the profitable thing?

How about in America? Could MLB do more? Could the union do more? Could this possibly affect profits? Bingo. That's why Tanya is aghast. Don't just scratch the surface, peeps. This goes way deeper than that. Sheep, continue with your Bad Yankees bleating. It's exactly what Bud wants you to do. Baa. Baaaaaaaa.