Friday, March 30, 2012

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Eerily Plucking into the Night

Once again I didn't go to bed last night until 11:00 PM because I got all caught up in a TV show about aliens.  It was a fictional account, albeit dressed up like a documentary, of what it would be like for us (Earthlings) if suddenly aliens made contact with us and told us they were coming.

Also, I'm learning a new song on my banjo.

 You want to hang out at my house, don't you?

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Phantom Vibrations

The phrase is "touch base," as in, "Okay then, lets touch base next week before your hot air balloon ride."  Because there's a lady within earshot here at work who keeps saying "touch bases," plural.  She's saying it so often that I'm starting to doubt myself.  I hate it when I doubt myself.

And those people who claim to have evidence that the Moon landings were faked by NASA so that we could win the Space Race against Russia in the late 60's.  Fuckers.  Because now I'm thinking, "Shit, some of their evidence is compelling."  Assholes.

Or when women fake their orgasms.  Wait, no, I actually prefer that one.  (Hey-O!)

Or when I'm sitting there minding my own business when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket... Nope.  Didn't happen.  Prolly just the tumor in my thigh gettin' twitchy.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Screaming into the sky, arms outstretched.

The leaky kitchen sink is fixed.  Fixed! 

The carpets are shampooed.  Shampooed!

The meat is ground.  Ground!   Wait... ground meat?  Yes, blog readers, after catching up on the recent scare of the moment, we have decided that we do no want to eat ground beef that has been treated with what scientists are calling the Pink Slime. 

(In brief, Pink Slime is taking all the parts of the cow that cannot/should not be eaten like cartilage, gristle, and all those lovely sinewy pieces typically left on the plate after eating a steak, and grinding/melting/rendering it down into a mush that then must be soaked/cleaned in an ammonia based chemical bath to kill all the E-Coli and other peculiar bacteria that forms after the trash pile of cow parts sits in a pile on the floor before going through this process.  The mush (Pink Slime) is then added back into the good meat so that stores, et al, get more bang for their buck.  Alarmingly, because Pink Slime has all the fat rendered out of it, it can be added to "regular" ground beef and bring the fat content down.  That package of 90% fat free ground beef is most likely jacked up with a bunch of Pink Slime filler.  Most grocery stores do this, but not all.  Here's a list if you're curious.  Note: "organic" beef sold in stores does not use Pink Slime. 

As someone who knows his way around a kitchen and fancies himself somewhat knowledgeable in the culinary world, this Pink Slime business offends me.  All in the realm of saving money, companies have decided that they can sneak dog food grade material into what we eat.  I'm not a rich man, but for fuck's sake I would like for my food to taste good.  To make us seem even more stupid and moronic, the "powers that be" have decided to call this nifty filler Lean Finely Textured Beef, AND are not required to indicate in any way on the label that the meat you are about to feed your children contains ammonia hydroxide. 

With all that said, Lynette and I purchased a meat grinder attachment for our KitchenAid stand mixer.  I bought a bunch of sirloin steaks and made a slew of burgers.  I added no fillers to my burgers.

Here's Jamie Oliver explaining Pink Slime to a group of West Virginians (read: dumbed down real low)

Friday, March 16, 2012

Demotivate or Die

Had a thought the other day after hearing someone say "Live Every Day Like It's Your Last Day!"  And all I could really think of in response was "Blow It Out Your Ass, You Non-working Lazy Dick!"  Because can you imagine a world where everyone was living like it was their last day?  Think about it... If we were all informed that a meteor had slipped past detection and was about to strike the Earth tomorrow, do you think I'd be sitting here in a cubicle at work?  Shit, I wouldn't even be obeying traffic signs!  Those who weren't lucky enough to find someone to have sex with would be contributing to a chaotic, panic-stricken, terrifying world.  Riots would erupt in the streets. Any semblance of law and order would disappear.  I can't think of a more awful way to live.  Anyone who says live every day like your last is nothing but a sadistic anarchist.  I say live every day like you have thousands more to follow.   You can still be happy and fulfilled knowing that your days are not numbered.  You're allowed joy without the cost of the end of days.

My Grass is Blue

I can't stop listening to bluegrass music.  Ever since getting my banjo last month I've a new appreciation for it, or something.  I won't try to explain it - I hate it when people (me) do that.  As I've said before, "Explanations are such cheap poetry."  (Stephen King said that.)

I just finished Uncle Stevie's new book (11/22/63) yesterday and had one of those moments where the eye moistens, but we swallow that dry, quivering sensation to avoid an outright sob.  What a fantastic read.  Riveting and thoughtful. I can't tell you why I liked it without spoiling it.  I don't get too excited about many books I read.  I'm usually a generous reviewer, but rarely am I giddy over a book.  I'm giddy over this one.  Read it, fool.


Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Multiplication Tables

James started clapping yesterday.  How the heck do I make a baby go to sleep who won't stop clapping in his crib, incredibly pleased with himself, radiating that smile of smiles, the smile that could end all wars and feed all the starving children in the world? 

Just when you think you're spending all the love you have on your bride and dog, along comes a tiny human to steal the show. 

I was watching a show on the Science Channel over the weekend narrated by Stephen Hawking (the ultra-famous physicist) debating whether or not there is a God.  Heavy stuff, indeed.  Most of it made sense.  I was able to hang on all the way through quantum physics, but then fell off the toboggan when Hawking began talking about black holes and how time does not exist in them. His point, when he finally got around to it, was to answer the question many Christians (myself included) always asks: What existed before the Big Bang?  

*Note that the Christians I refer to are the ones who believe in evolution, but that some divine force (God?) sparked it.  Genesis Christians need not apply.

So Dr. Hawking purports that nothing existed before the Big Bang because it originated within the confines of a black hole.  And if time does not exist in black holes then nothing existed prior to the Big Bang.  When asked why the Big Bang occurred, Hawking goes on to point to evidence on the subatomic level that particles appear and disappear seemingly randomly all the time.  Granted, there's math to allegedly back up these theories.  I'll have to take his word for it.  And although I know that given enough time science will eventually explain everything away, I can't stop seeing James clapping.  And waving.  And walking.

Science is amazing, no doubt.  Our biologies alone are nothing short of miracles.  Even though Hawking seemingly explained away the creation of the universe, I still wonder how the heart beats.  I'm humbled by emotions and the bonds I find myself intertwined in.  Hawking wasn't able to explain what love is.  I might believe the idea that time does not exist in black holes even though no one has ever been in one (or seen one, for that matter).  But there's got to be a reason for it.  No amount of math can explain away the weakness I feel in my heart when I have to make my son go to sleep when he'd rather stay up clapping into the night.

Monday, March 12, 2012

First Contact and Other Things

This weekend we had a few "firsts" at Home Carlock.  First, we discovered James' first teeth poking through his lower gums.  Second, the kid waved at us.  Unprovoked and unsolicited!  Third, walking... kind of.  See the videos if you don't believe me. 

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Midnight in Paris

Last weekend Lynette and I watched a movie.  A whole movie.  We only had to pause it 18 times to quell the cries of both baby and dog. For our rare moment of cinematic joy we chose Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris (because it won an Oscar for its screenplay and I'm a sucker for good writing - - How a film can win best screenplay and not best picture confuses me...)  Anyway, if you consider yourself literary or a lover of the arts I highly recommend this movie.  In it a man visiting Paris finds himself transported nightly to a Paris of the 1920's.  He meets and parties with the Fitzgerald's (F. Scott and Zelda) and takes manly advice from a young Ernest Hemingway. Paths are crossed with Gertrude Stein and Pablo Picasso and  various other "Ex-patriots."  We even get to see a group of young Absurdists including  Salvador Dali played wonderfully by Adrian Brody.  There were many other references to famous writers and artists that I did not recognize, but represented nonetheless.  It's a simple, fantastical, charming movie. Short and delightful.  I say see it and like it.  Cheers.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

A Journey Through Time and Elastic

I've been giving this a lot of thought and I'm about 93% sure that I'm switching back to briefs.  Tighty Whities.  I bought some last weekend and been wearing them sporadically to the gym and to bed.  In comparison to the boxers I wear during the day at work I find myself yearning for the snug comfort of briefs.  It's been since high school since I wore briefs.  Before I lost my virginity.  Freshman or Sophomore year maybe.  Putting them on felt very strange at first.  But then I started thinking, "Why did I stop wearing these?"  Society dictated that boxers were cool and briefs were for basement dwelling, booger eaters.  But I have to give my objective opinion and state that briefs are more comfortable. 

Yes, I tried "boxer briefs."  Several times.  But those are for men who really want the comfort of briefs, but are too cowardly to make the jump.  Like people who buy SUV's instead of minivans, which is really what they need/want.  Also, boxer briefs ride up and make the world a miserable place.  Most of life's irritations are probably due to some asshole trudging through a day of boxer briefs riding up his thighs.

So, I think it's time I take my junk back in time and embrace the briefs.

*Photos available upon request.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Sweaty Pillows

I finally did it.  I woke up at 4:42 AM (before my alarm), got out of bed, and went to the gym. The Moon and stars were still shining high above in the chilly sky by the time I got back home to get ready for work.  It was as if I never went.  Maybe it was a dream...

Friday, March 2, 2012

Chicken and Waffles

3212:  Today I going to eat fried chicken and waffles for the first time.  I'll let you know how it goes.