Me again

It's been a while since I've posted any thing. I need to get back into this. I checked my stats for some reason and found out this page has been viewed in Russia and Brazil. Worldwide, Baby! That's me!

The Cookie Try

I baked some cookies today, using the following recipe:

BUTTER COOKIES

2 sticks (1/2 lb) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

¾ cup sugar

2 large eggs

¼ tsp salt

1 Tbs Amaretto (optional)

½ tsp vanilla - use 1 tsp if omitting the Amaretto

3 ½ cups flour

In a large mixing bowl, cream together the softened butter and the sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating briefly after each addition just to incorporate. Beat in the salt, the Amaretto and vanilla and then about a third of the flour until smooth. Gradually beat in as much of the remaining flour as possible using the electric beater, then stir in the rest with a wooden spoon or a spatula.

Turn out onto a lightly floured surface. If you haven't stirred in all of the flour you can knead in the rest quite easily. Once you have a smooth, homogeneous dough, wrap tightly in plastic wrap and let it chill in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Working with about half the dough at a time, roll it out to a thickness of not less than 1/8-inch, being careful that the dough is very evenly rolled out. Carefully cut out shapes with your cookie cutters. Gently transfer to a cookie sheet. You can use unlined, ungreased cookie sheets with no problem at all.

Bake for about 10 minutes. They will be set and appear cooked but they will NOT brown. You'll know they are done because they will slide right off the cookie sheet when just nudged with a spatula. Carefully slip each cookie off of the baking tray and all to cool on racks.

I had to buy a rolling pin and some cookie cutters this morning. You would think that a simple, round cookie cutter would be easy to find, but it wasn’t. I am certain there would be on in the tub of 500 cutters that was for sale, but that was a little excessive. I need only one, and would have to find a place for the remaining 499. I settled for a set of star shapes. The rolling pin guaranteed to not stick to the dough.

I halved the recipe. I figured that if the cookies turned into the equivalent of Elly May’s biscuits and needed to be thrown away; I wouldn’t have wasted a lot of ingredients. It took a little bit of practice figuring out the art of rolling dough. The dough stuck to the rolling pin with great ease. I was flouring the dough and transferring it back to the refrigerator to reset a couple of times. It was a trial and error time for baking, truly a great moment in kitchen science for me.

I spent the ten minutes baking waiting like an expectant father, hovering over the oven while Sinatra played in the background. They came out to better than expected. The first batch was slightly burnt. The dough was a little too thin. The following batches got better as I started to figure out how to roll the dough. By the end, the cookies weren’t browning excessively. Once cooled, they tasted great. They are even better with some cream cheese frosting that I had left over from a failed cake attempt. In the end, the recipe joins the keep file. I’ll have to do these again.

Tetrazzini - Round One

I made chicken tetrazzini for dinner today. I followed a recipe I found on the internet that was easy. It came out slightly bland. I have a belly full of angel hair pasta, but little flavor. I think I need to find a different recipe.

The New Favorite Video!

Memories

Bask in the Delicious

I have been on a silly quest lately. For some reason, I have been obsessed with homemade macaroni and cheese. It wasn’t like I was chasing anything either. I have minimal memories of the dish as a child. My father hated it and my mother never made it. Since I did not have a childhood reference for it, this need came out of the blue.

The first attempt was a recipe from Food Network Magazine. I decided to try it for the simple fact that it looked easy. I can cook; don’t get me wrong. I have been on my own for several years and have had only one brush with bad food I have prepared. But I also am cognizant of what I can and cannot do. Boil water? Yes, I can do that. Deglaze a pan? No, that is a little out of my league and I really don’t understand the need to do it. Anyway, the recipe looked like I could do it. I worked on the cheese sauce while the noodles cooked in the boiling water. The sauce never seemed to set up properly. The roux turned out nicely, but when I added the soymilk it never seemed to thicken. To speed the process along, I added the cheese. Four cups of melting cheese is a sure way to thicken any sauce. I drained the water from the noodles and added the cheese sauce.

The recipe called for butter to be melted with parsley in the microwave. I did as the recipe suggested and added that to the bowl with some panko breadcrumbs. I mixed everything together and tried it. It was like eating cheesy burnt leaves. The cheese was a little bland. Overall, I was disappointed. The leftovers went into the garbage disposal.

I told my co-workers what I was trying and they suggested a recipe from a cookbook made of coworker submissions. There was a macaroni and cheese dish that was easy to make and really good they said. I tried it and do have to say it was better. The sauce had a better flavor and it did look good on the plate. The dish even did something impressive. The taste improved the next day. There must have been some magical food chemistry happening that I am yet to understand about leftovers improving as they sit. I was impressed, but wanted to be blown away on the first bite. I moved on.

One of co-worker gave me several macaroni and cheese recipes to try. I had been talking about my attempts and she went into her cookbooks and photocopied a couple for me. (She must have a library of books, considering the number of recipes I was presented with. I’ve been to her house and there has to be a wing full of cookbooks that I did not see.) They were all simple, with a variation on the theme of macaroni and cheese.

I gave one a try and have to say I have found it. It is a simple recipe with the roux. I used 2% milk instead of soy and the sauce thickened nicely. Cheddar and Swiss cheese were used. I used elbow macaroni instead on the fancier twisted pasta the magazine recommended. I mixed everything together and poured it into an 11 x 8 dish to cook even though a 13 x 9 was suggested. I could not see what the difference would be.

It turns out to be important…very important. The cheese bubbled up and over the sides of the pan. My cooking rack and bottom over my oven ended up with a nice, cheesy coating by the time cooking was complete. I opened the oven door to a face full of smoke and the sight of hot deliciousness in front of me. I pulled out my circular pizza pan to set the cheese-covered dish on and marveled at my creation.

My 11 x 8 pan held homemade macaroni and cheese. The cheese sauce still bubbled under a crisp layer of Swiss and Cheddar cheese sprinkled over top. The top mad a slight crunching sound as I broke it to spoon up a serving onto a place. It was wonderful. The macaroni interlocked itself into a nice pile. The Sauce was warm and had a more natural taste than any powdered creation from a blue box. The flavor even held up the next day. Leftovers were just as good. The final test was freezing the final few servings, which will be reported on at a later date.

I just need to find a new dish to attempt now.

You might not be "hip" if…

the barista at Starbucks rolls their eyes when told your drink order.

a friend describes the artists on your iPod as “a bunch of nobodies”.

the TV show you have watched for the longest time is on HGTV.

you almost sent a nasty email to HGTV when they moved your favorite TV show.

you can discuss literary theory, symbolism and hidden meaning as it relates to Batman.

you try to discuss popular music with your nephews, but you keep saying “Who?”

you will not watch “Smallville” because you consider it “to revisionist.”

you are looking for a good macaroni & cheese recipe that does not come out of a blue box.

you have talked about a great movie you watched on TV. When asked what channel it was on, you say “Lifetime” proudly.

you have turned off a hard rock station because the music sounded “angry.”

St. Patrick's Day Parade

My NERF Rifle

I was trying to think of something to write about, but was drawing a blank. There is only so much a person can write about Lynda Carter or online poker before crossing over into the “crazy loner” category. And I don’t think work would appreciate it if Lynda Carter’s lawyers served me with a cease and desist order. Instead, I’m going to tell the story of how I got my Nerf rifle.

I start my story, as always, by blaming my coworkers. They gave me an issue of Geek Magazine for my birthday a couple of years ago. The magazine is a celebration of video games, comic books and science fiction. Somehow, this periodical has been able to condense my life to a series of four-color pages and $5.00 cover price.

I pick up an issue every once and a while. You never know when I feel like my nerd reservoir is running low. One issue I picked up had a contest that you had to write; in fifty words or less, why you needed a NERF Recon CS-6 Rifle. What? A writing contest! Unusual prizes that serve no purpose in my life! The ability to lord the accomplishment over others! Is there a sign up sheet? So, I got a submission together and emailed it in.

As with anything I do on a lark. It had left my mind as soon as I had finished it. I had other things in my life to worry about. All that online porn wasn’t going to download itself you know. So, it wasn’t until a couple of months later that this all came back to the forefront of my life when the magazine contacted me.

I thought it was a put on a first. Things like this don’t happen to me. But this time it did. The Nerf rifle showed up without any charge to any of my credit cards. I checked statements, even though my number was never asked for. I had to brag to some, so I sent the following email to my coworkers. I have edited out their names, and mine, but not to protect the innocent. I have a fear of retribution. I wrote:

Hey,

For my birthday last year, you guys got me an issue of Geek Magazine. It had everything geek and nerd related that I enjoy, so I pick up the occasional issue. The last one that I picked up had a contest in it. In fifty words or less explain why you need a Nerf Recon CS-6 Rifle. In a three or four drafts, I had my response and emailed it in. I wrote:

I need the Nerf N-Strike Recon CS-6 because I am waging war with the pressures of maturity and responsibility. My inner child is woefully under armed to deal with the onslaught of meeting the daily grind of meeting the bus, making deadlines at work and home life.

Pretty good, even if I am blowing my own horn. As for the magazine, I brought it to work and [it was shipped] to the Middle East [for the troops]. I forgot all about it until the first of the month. I got the following email:

Congratulations, you've won a NERF Recon CS-6 Rifle from Geek Monthly!

Email me the address where you would like it shipped and we'll get it in the mail to you.

Have fun, and don't put your eye out.

-- Marcus Alexander Hart

Senior Editor, Geek Monthly

The thing arrived today via UPS and it is Christmas morning in October. The funny thing is how ironic this all is. If you re-read what I submitted, you can tell it is a load of crap. My inner child is so well fortified that maturity is on the losing side in this battle. In a couple of minutes, I am going to be shooting at walls, the TV and some action figures.

If you don't know what a Nerf Recon CS-6 is, here is a ten your old to explain it to you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FBKVC1TPH6s

Now if you will excuse me, I must go pacify the living room with foam bullets.

See you tomorrow,

[Eiger]

It was like any new toy. You loved it. You played with it constantly. You hold it constantly. But after a while, you realize that your life is the same. You stumble at your attempts for promotions at work. Talking to strangers is still hard. Shocking as it sounds, a NERF Recon CS-6 Rifle is not the panty dropper you think it is. In fact, women think it’s kind of creepy that an adult male is obsessed with toys. For me though, it makes me happy. Every once in a while, I get it out and fire off a clip or two of foam bullets. Once the wall has been subdued, I collect everything and put it back. Happy memories don’t need to be ruined by the real world.

Death Grip on Third Place

I have found a new use for Facebook. Sure, I am still waiting for Lynda Carter to enter my life like vesper, but my online friends have shown little initiative in this project. Disappointment fills my life. To hold off the misery, I have found online poker.

It’s a perfect distraction for me. It requires some thinking, a little bit of strategy and spending of money. Sure, the money isn’t real, but it causes a slight twinge in the area that handles financial responsibility and the game has established a value to it, so it has to be worth something.

Understand? Probably not, since it doesn’t make that much sense to me either.

The thing is that I never realized how competitive I am. With a couple of friends already in the game, I used them as a barometer of my progress. If I fell behind their chip count, I was not doing as well. If I moved ahead, everything was fine. It’s not a very good measure of self worth, but it is what I use sometimes, the unreasonable comparisons.

My coworkers noticed I was playing. (I was posting my wins, i.e. bragging, on Facebook.) One co-worker joined and seemed to enjoy the social aspects of the game more than the game itself. She thought it was funny that I ignored buddy requests when she accepted what seemed to be any friend request that was thrown her way.

Another coworker suggested that I make a friend request to her boss, also in the building where I work. He plays poker and said that I could play a couple hands with him if we are ever online together. And Facebook is the place to make friends, isn’t it? I decided that the next complete stranger that sends a buddy request would be accepted. It wouldn’t matter from what corner of the world, language spoken or background. That lucky person would be my new friend.

With these two new additions, I am now in a permanent third place, fighting off fourth. My coworker’s boss has about seven times as many chips as I do. The unknown friend is nearly double of my coworker’s boss. The coworkers that were in the game are good players that don’t seem to roll over easily. One coworker seems to have better luck than I and is constantly circling, like a shark looking for weakness.

My self-worth, by the way, is in hiding somewhere. If you need me, I’ll be in a fetal position in my closet.

Letting Facebook Do the Work

After some debate, I have decided to join Facebook, the online social gathering place that allows you to be connected with people. I’ve been hesitant for a while. I can barely talk to people I know. By joining Facebook, I’d be dealing with people, adding bad typing and emoticons. But a coworker talked about how wonderful it is, keeping in touch with people. She said I could be in control of whom I would associate with, which is a very polite way of saying “ignore people.”

If I wanted to find old classmates, I’d go to a high school or college reunion. Lost friends and family members were probably lost for a reason. I thought about it for a little bit and have come to the conclusion that this could work for me. I figure that instead of using Facebook to find old classmates, friends and lost family member, I’ll use it to my advantage. The reason I have joined is very simple.

I want to meet Lynda Carter. http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0004812/.

I know what you are thinking. STALKER! But I’m not. Think of this as a grand experiment in the computer age. We are going to test the myth (urban legend? lie?) that each individual is six people away from knowing a famous person on earth, six degrees of separation.

I challenge you, Facebook. Introduce me to Lynda Carter, but there are rules.

1. It has to be Lynda Carter that starred in the Wonder Woman TV series that ran on ABC and CBS from April, 1976 to September, 1979. I am certain there are a lot of women named Lynda Carter that are wonderful people and have wonderfully amusing stories full of Wonder Woman jokes that they love to tell. I don’t care. Tell them to someone else.

2. I don’t need to be contacted by the “official Lynda Carter Fan Club.” Any dupe can do that. I need face-to-face contact.

3. If you think I can be stopped by a restraining/cease and desist order. You’re right. I can be. I’ll go as far as this will go, but I’m not going to cannonball into the crazy pool. I do have a reputation to protect, for whatever reason.

You have your assignment, so get to work, Facebook! Go make a guy with time on his hands happy in 2010!

Creative Slump

I haven’t been doing any writing lately. It seems that I have been jumping from one thing to another, trying to stay afloat. It isn’t like anything has been an emergency either, but I have been dragged under by the minutiae that makes up life. After a while, something gets pushed to the side and unfortunately, this has been it.

Work has been busy. It seemed like there was someone at my desk with a problem for the better part of the last two weeks. Everything was an emergency. It seemed like their lack of planning had suddenly become my emergency. I am a firm believer in helping where I can, but after a while I felt like a janitor, cleaning up after them.

My brother recently purchased a new truck. Good for him, I think he deserves a new vehicle. Unfortunately, he bought a used diesel heavy duty pick up that he found on the Internet at a dealership in a near by state. We live in an area that has several Chrysler dealerships closing because of the trouble in the auto industry. He could have found a great deal on a new vehicle with a little digging. Instead, he dropped a lot of money on a used pick-up with over 100,000 miles. No amount of talking would make him listen to reason. I always thought my brother was level headed, but he could be a little off kilter now.

Personally, I have been in the middle of what could be my mid life crisis. My have lost all interest in my job. I have thought about buying a motorcycle and getting some sort of tattoo. I even thought about going back to school. Not for a Master’s degree, that would be too logical. I have been thinking about checking a local art school that offers classes in graphic design. I used to work in that field, but never had any official training. Going back to school has been looking like a possible path lately. 

Man Up, Man Child!

I’ve decided to organize the collection. I have been collecting comic books since I was ten and after thirty some years, I have absolutely no idea what I have or how many.  Besides, it will give me a project, which is something I need. The time I have spent on the couch watching television has increased dramatically while the things that need to be done have been sitting, waiting to be finished. After a couple of weeks into it, I have concluded that I have a lot of useless crap.

Comic Books. Action figures. Trade paperbacks. Graphic novels. Unopened boxes of trading cards. That doesn’t include the childhood playthings; toys acquired as an adult and stuffed items that litter the place. Instead of progressing towards adulthood, I’ve had a white-knuckle death rip on my childhood. While my friends deal with marital problems, child custody issues and other familial issues, I can discuss the overall worthiness of a Nerf N-Strike Recon CS-6 rifle. Not that it ever comes up…but I’m ready…just in case.

With my overabundance of worthless items, I have decided to get rid of things. I am advertising them on eBay instead of my usual route of dropping things off at the local Goodwill store in the middle of the night.  Selling them will give me a little extra cash and prove to everyone that laughed at me that a collector’s market in action figures does exist. Besides, I don’t think the poor and thrifty would be interested in unopened boxes of trading cards.

I’ve had some luck. I sold a box of James Bond GoldenEye trading cards to someone in Texas. A box of Skybox DC Comics Master Series cards went to a person in New Jersey. They got something they wanted and I received cash for it, which is capitalism in action. God Bless America! The only thing left to do is getting rid of the sadness that goes along with selling the stuff. My family is a bunch of clean freaks, so the de-cluttering of my life would be looked upon as a good thing. But why does an Aquaman action figure still safely secure in original packaging make me happy? And the thought of letting go mean so much? 

The Kids

Hard Write

I tried doing a post a couple of days ago about a conversation I had in the office. I wrote about whom I talked to without revealing any names but the other person was still identifiable, if you knew me. After a hour of writing and editing, I reread everything to make sure everything sounded intelligent and the words flowed smoothly. When done, my one thought was "I can't post this." 

The post turned into something incredibly personal. I had opened myself up a little too much and put something about myself out there that made me uncomfortable. I started editing. I tried to turn the post into a little bit of media criticism, but that sounded forced. I edited again. I changed it to a piece about how my iPod might have hindered conversations since I listen to it while working out. Unfortunately, this wasn't working either. I kept trying to end the piece on a joke, but everything sounded forced to me. Humor should happen naturally and not be forced and I was desperately trying to shoe horn a joke into four or five paragraphs.

So I am back to where I started. I want to talk about something, as long as I don't get overly personal. I want the world to see my writing, but not see me. If this is going to work, I'll have to put everything out there and be ready for what happens when that happens.

Come On Joe

I recently decided to sell my audiocassettes to a local Half Price Books store in Rocky River. I sorted through what I had and decided that it was time to get rid of them. That is until I got to my Jo-El Sonnier cassettes. I checked iTunes and he is represented on the music service. I thought that I was in luck. I could buy his Come On Joe album and have it on my iPod. All that Cajun/zydeco goodness pouring into my ears and filling my skull would bring back the mid-90's when the cassette was almost permanently in the tape deck of my Sunbird. But the album wasn't listed. For some reason, RCA/Victor has taken this album out of circulation. That, to me, is a crime. 

Come On Joe was probably one of the first albums that fell out of mainstream music for me. I can't recall what possessed me to purchase it in a time when Culture Club, Duran Duran and other artists of the second British music invasion were popular. I listened to what was popular, to what my friends were listening. The idea of going against the high school tastemakers was tough and I bowed to peer pressure. Once out of high school, I started expanding to what I listened.

It is a fun album, country tinged but still having a beat to that pop/rocker/pseudo-head banger could listen. The ballad that shared the album's title was easily relatable to me. I took it as a man trying to work up his courage to on. At the time I was listening to it, I was moving out of high school into college and trying to find my way in the world. It has a slow waltz like tempo that makes slow dancing perfect. 

For me, the high light of the album is the last track, Tear Stained Letter. Accordions and electric guitars fill the music as a Jo-El sings about being on the receiving end of a bad beak up. The song has references to dance instructor Arthur Murray and punk band the Clash and offers sound advice: Cry cry if it makes you feel better/Set it all down in a tear-stained letter

Others have covered this song. I also have to Patty Loveless version, but it isn't the same. The music has the same infectious beat, but her delivery sounds bored. It sounds like Patti Loveless isn't happy to be singing the song. 

In this day of digital downloads and sagging CD sales, I don't understand why all albums are not available for sales. With services like iTunes, Napster and Amazon's MP3 service, music that does not sell a physical CD could still be available in electronic format. This would allow artists to still get their music to fans and record companies make a profit. RCA/Victor, are you listening to my suggestion?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=di8vqzTMAP0

http://www.last.fm/music/Jo-El+Sonnier/Come+On=Joe

The Reason…Still Searching

I guess I am still looking for a reason to do this blog. I think I have a point of view and something to say, but is it worthy of the masses? The attempt to be "hip" or "funny" does not translate if the reader does not understand the over all point. Aquaman, cute fuzzy animals and just about everything else is discussed in a blog somewhere, so one more voice in the cacophony will not hurt. Will it?

Undue Credit

I've been getting credit at work lately for my writing skills. I'm responsible for taking notes during certain meetings and summarizing them. The summation is distributed to all employees so an "open dialogue," for lack of better term can exist between management and the employed masses. The thing is that my name is on the newsletter, but it is not my writing. The final write up has to be given to management for approval. They changed it, completely reworking a couple of paragraphs. In my eyes, I think what I wrote survived in maybe fifty percent of the final draft.

So, is it still my work? I've asked this to a couple of people. The resulting consensus was to take credit, to say "Thanks" and walk on. I've done that. I've even dodged a couple follow up questions about stuff that was changed. "How did you know that?" Answering truthfully, that I didn't and management changed the notes for their benefit would undermine what the employee relations committee was about.

First Shot

Okay.

I guess I will give this a try. It is not like anyone is going to find this…unless I tell them about it. 

Welcome to my blog, where I will rant and rave about the things that drive me nuts. I will see how things go and how much trouble I can create for myself. After all, isn't total honesty what we seek and want out of life?

Every once in a while I will try to post something from the Boredom Journal. I will just have to edit it down a little, remove names to protect the innocent, or not so innocent. After all, confidentiality agreements can be a pain to write around.