Someone I know posted an article online the other day along with an interesting statement. She said that she thinks that black pepper is overused in cooking, and that it often doesn't really enhance the foods that we automatically sprinkle it on. The article was written by someone who quit using pepper in their cooking years ago. She (the author) hadn't decided to quit using pepper; her pepper mill just quit working. She noticed that her foods began to taste better without the pepper, and then quit using it in her cooking.
When I decided to comment, I hadn't yet read the article. I fall more firmly into the salt camp as far as favored basic seasonings. There were some commenters to my friend's post that were vehemently pro-black-pepper. And some for whom that last sentence would be a gross understatement. There were others who were also bigger fans of salt than pepper.
I don't think that any of us were anti-pepper, it was just that we agreed it was routinely overused. How many recipes have you seen that instruct you to "add salt and pepper to taste"? Mashed potatoes? Add salt and pepper. Salad? Ditto. Just about every recipe you read except desserts will include that instruction. And with the trend toward savory desserts, even those recipes aren't all free from pepper!
Here's my problem with pepper - it can be like a person who thinks they're irresistible. It can come on too strong. Pepper, with its volatile oils, has a distinctly strong flavor. Instead of enhancing the taste of some foods, it can overpower it. Salt, in my opinion, is more likely to improve the flavors of many foods, whether they are robust or delicate. And you won't ever catch me eating popcorn without it! I am also a fan of different varieties of salt. I have Himalayan Pink, both ground and in a grinder, and Hawaaiian Red. My kitchen also houses Black Cyprus salt that looks like little black pyramids, Fleur de Sel, Chocolate salt, Bacon salt, Lime Salt, and Murray River salt from salt deposits in Australia, to name a few.
One commenter said something to the effect that salt kills and pepper heals, a statement with which I must respectfully disagree. Pepper, with such a strong, hot, or bitter flavor, can be too much for may people. And life without salt is impossible. Both humans and animals are drawn to it because it is necessary for their well-being. When my guardian Bill had horses and cattle on his land, there were always salt licks for the animals.
In many eras of human history, salt was valuable enough to be a form of currency or exchange. Even the ancient Roman legions couldn't function without salt. In addition to their ration of food and drink, they were paid in salt. In the non-coastal regions, it was precious enough to be a wage, and the word for salt evolved into the word salary. Litle wonder, then, that we have sayings about being worth one's salt - if we are competent at what we do, we are worthy of our salary, our salt. Pretty amazing for something we can now buy easily at a market, isn't it?
In the end, it's all a matter of personal preference, or perhaps I should say taste. My favorite of the two is salt, and I use it far more, but there are dishes that simply aren't as perky without that zing of black pepper. It comes down to loving the flavor of your food. Whether you favor one over the other doesn't matter as much as making food that will make you happy. So shake or grind or sprinkle - and enoy! Bon appetit!
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As
always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great
joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd
like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
Friday, February 24, 2017
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Old Friends
It's been a few weeks since I've written, and I freely admit to feeling guilty about it. I've toyed with various ideas over the last few days while I piddled away time binge-watching tv series and reading books. Okay, wait a minute, reading books is definitely not piddling away one's time. Last night I had a very vivid dream about someone that I haven't seen or spoken to in close to 25 years. I woke up thinking about this friend, and all of my ideas for blog posts slipped away. I needed to write about my old friend.
In this odd but incredibly realistic dream, I was in a school-type setting. I wasn't in any classrooms, and it must have been a college because of the lovely open campus setting. I walked into a room where a slightly older, very kind gentleman was sitting down on a classroom chair. He was a counselor or advisor of some sort, and I knew that he was very busy. Even so, he spoke to me for a few moments. He advised me to go to a woman named Kris B, with whom he had worked on an award-winning project.
My face broke into a huge smile because I knew her years ago. I told the man that I used to know her, and even went to New York City with her. He smiled as I told him how Kris had given me a wonderful compliment all of those years ago. She told me that among all of her friends, I was the only one who didn't just talk about going on a trip, but actually planned it and went. And we did go, one lovely early September. She was patient with me when we got off to a rocky start and I said I'd just as soon go home. Within hours, I fell in love with the city. And I was patient with her getting-ready-to-go routine that we joked about.
Anyway, in the dream I was a bit nervous to see Kris because our lives sent us on different paths and I was afraid that she wouldn't want to see me. When I saw her, busy at her work, she embraced me and made me feel welcome. Somehow I can see a real life reunion going exactly that way, and liberally sprinkled with joyful tears.
When I woke, I couldn't stop thinking about my old, dear friend Kris. We met at our banking workplace, both in the teller department. Our friendship developed fairly quickly, as I recall. We obviously got along well or we wouldn't have taken the plunge to go aross the country together. What fun we had on that trip! From the Statue of Liberty to the Hard rock Cafe (at that time only the second HRC in the world!) and Central Park, we saw so many wonderful things. We fell in love with the Carnegie Deli (just recently closed, to my great sadness) and its bickering waiters. It was with Kris that I discovered on our first full day in the city that we were slightly lost - in the Red Light District!
We went to Macy's and Bloomingdale's and Sak's and my favorite, Tiffany. We ate all sorts of wonderful food varying from street fare to dinner in the Crystal Room at Tavern on the Green. We rode buses and subways and acted like the city was ours. In fact, a woman who sounded like she was from New York stopped us to ask for directions to a specific address. Without skipping a beat, I was able to tell her exactly how to get there. We loved it.
My joy and zest for travel were awakened then. I've gone to several states and made it all the way to Budapest and various points in Hungary to find my family. I've seen Vienna, Austria and the incredible city of Paris. If I could, I'd jump on a plane tomorrow. Hey, my passport is still valid! Although it would take a little while for Trent to get one...
A little over a year after our great adventure, she was very supportive of me when I was hospitalized and diagnosed with lupus. Her dear sweet husband Joe, a paramedic, even stopped at the hospital to check on me. When I was feeling a bit better, Kris and I went to see a fairly new movie in the theater, a "chick-flick" called Beaches. In a nutshell, it's the story of two friends over the course of some years. One becomes very ill and dies. We wept profusely all through the movie. After the lights came on Kris told me, "I was sitting here thinking, she looks like Katrina when she was sick." And I told Kris, "I was sitting here thinking this is what I put my friends through." I have never seen the movie again. When I recently saw ads on the television about a made-for-tv remake, I announced that I will not be watching it, and I wondered whether her feelings would be the same.
As I said, life has taken us in separate directions and we drifted apart. I think of Kris from time to time, and very lovingly. If there was any way that I could help her in a time of need, I would do so without hesitation. Could we rekindle a friendship? I don't really know. After all of these years, we're different people now than we were before, so it could never be the same. And that's a good thing, because if it was the same it would mean that neither of us had experienced any life or any growth. But I will cherish the knowledge and memory of having such a wonderful and amazing friend, one that I will always carry in my heart. Thank you, Kris, for all of the love and memories.
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
In this odd but incredibly realistic dream, I was in a school-type setting. I wasn't in any classrooms, and it must have been a college because of the lovely open campus setting. I walked into a room where a slightly older, very kind gentleman was sitting down on a classroom chair. He was a counselor or advisor of some sort, and I knew that he was very busy. Even so, he spoke to me for a few moments. He advised me to go to a woman named Kris B, with whom he had worked on an award-winning project.
My face broke into a huge smile because I knew her years ago. I told the man that I used to know her, and even went to New York City with her. He smiled as I told him how Kris had given me a wonderful compliment all of those years ago. She told me that among all of her friends, I was the only one who didn't just talk about going on a trip, but actually planned it and went. And we did go, one lovely early September. She was patient with me when we got off to a rocky start and I said I'd just as soon go home. Within hours, I fell in love with the city. And I was patient with her getting-ready-to-go routine that we joked about.
Anyway, in the dream I was a bit nervous to see Kris because our lives sent us on different paths and I was afraid that she wouldn't want to see me. When I saw her, busy at her work, she embraced me and made me feel welcome. Somehow I can see a real life reunion going exactly that way, and liberally sprinkled with joyful tears.
When I woke, I couldn't stop thinking about my old, dear friend Kris. We met at our banking workplace, both in the teller department. Our friendship developed fairly quickly, as I recall. We obviously got along well or we wouldn't have taken the plunge to go aross the country together. What fun we had on that trip! From the Statue of Liberty to the Hard rock Cafe (at that time only the second HRC in the world!) and Central Park, we saw so many wonderful things. We fell in love with the Carnegie Deli (just recently closed, to my great sadness) and its bickering waiters. It was with Kris that I discovered on our first full day in the city that we were slightly lost - in the Red Light District!
We went to Macy's and Bloomingdale's and Sak's and my favorite, Tiffany. We ate all sorts of wonderful food varying from street fare to dinner in the Crystal Room at Tavern on the Green. We rode buses and subways and acted like the city was ours. In fact, a woman who sounded like she was from New York stopped us to ask for directions to a specific address. Without skipping a beat, I was able to tell her exactly how to get there. We loved it.
My joy and zest for travel were awakened then. I've gone to several states and made it all the way to Budapest and various points in Hungary to find my family. I've seen Vienna, Austria and the incredible city of Paris. If I could, I'd jump on a plane tomorrow. Hey, my passport is still valid! Although it would take a little while for Trent to get one...
A little over a year after our great adventure, she was very supportive of me when I was hospitalized and diagnosed with lupus. Her dear sweet husband Joe, a paramedic, even stopped at the hospital to check on me. When I was feeling a bit better, Kris and I went to see a fairly new movie in the theater, a "chick-flick" called Beaches. In a nutshell, it's the story of two friends over the course of some years. One becomes very ill and dies. We wept profusely all through the movie. After the lights came on Kris told me, "I was sitting here thinking, she looks like Katrina when she was sick." And I told Kris, "I was sitting here thinking this is what I put my friends through." I have never seen the movie again. When I recently saw ads on the television about a made-for-tv remake, I announced that I will not be watching it, and I wondered whether her feelings would be the same.
As I said, life has taken us in separate directions and we drifted apart. I think of Kris from time to time, and very lovingly. If there was any way that I could help her in a time of need, I would do so without hesitation. Could we rekindle a friendship? I don't really know. After all of these years, we're different people now than we were before, so it could never be the same. And that's a good thing, because if it was the same it would mean that neither of us had experienced any life or any growth. But I will cherish the knowledge and memory of having such a wonderful and amazing friend, one that I will always carry in my heart. Thank you, Kris, for all of the love and memories.
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
A Cat's Tale
This is the true story of a cat.
Trent and I have never really been cat people. I think that a big part of this for me is the experiences I had with Alice. During the hellish couple of years that I lived under her care, it was evident that cats were more important to her than human children. Especially more important than the orphan children of her husband's Hungarian relatives. As a result, I went through a period during which I actively disliked cats; this phase ended many years ago.
Trent has been a dog person for many years, as have I. We both take issue with the type of cat that will walk all over the kitchen counters and things of that nature. It kind of disgusts us. But we have had cordial interactions with cats who own humans of our acquaintance.
Many changes have occurred recently in the land of The Lunatic and company. Perhaps these will be discussed in a future blog post. One of the results of these changes is that Liz, my sister, has become a member of our household. Along with her comes a well-behaved and shy (reclusive?) cat named Brutus.
Brutus is a substantial (chunky monkey) grey cat that Liz adopted as a kitten. He was a motherless feral cat, and has some issues as a result. It takes him a while to warm up to people, and when he sleeps, as some cats seem to do for about 20-odd hours per day, he cries because of his bad dreams. It's sad and very touching, and frankly a bit heartbreaking.
So here's a brief rundown of Brutus' first week at the home of The Lunatic.
On Wednesday evening Brutus arrives in a pet carrier lined with his mother's bedsheets. The carrier door is opened, and Liz and I adjourn to the living room. Within less than an hour, this shy and frightened cat comes into the living room and gets on the pullout bed with Liz. He gives me a look, jumps off the bed, and hops up on the loveseat next to me. He allows me to pet and admire him and then goes back to his mommy. Brutus quickly discovers that the furniture here really suits him - both the pullout bed and the recliner provide hiding places that are perfect for a shy, fat cat.
Each evening, Brutus comes out from his nesting areas and cuddles with Liz. He also comes to see me, asking for some treats from the package I keep nearby. By Monday evening, he walks over my lap to visit Trent for treats, and allows him to pet and admire him until the treats are eaten. He then hisses something sassy about no treats, no touching, and goes back to his mother.
On Tuesday evening, Brutus is surprised to find himself more interested in the actions and behaviors of the other humans than he expected. He hears me place his bowl on the counter and get him some canned food which I bring to the living room. He eats some with gusto, and does more of his customary exploring. He becomes frustrated when his desire to follow Trent conflicts with his desire to stay with Liz. He deals with this by going to one of his hiding places. When Trent sprays some air freshener from a loud spray can, Brutus gets startled and runs for cover. In his aunt and uncle's bedroom! Liz comes in a short while later to lay on the end of the bed. Brutus joins the family and places himself between mom and aunt and allows both to pet him, AKA worship the cat.
When The Lunatic moves around during the night, she discovers that a big fat cat has moved so that he can lay next to her leg. She later feels him jump on the bed (after spending some time with Liz) but doesn't feel him lay down. That must be when he was with Trent. One cat, two new humans, and seven nights - I think we have been accepted as not only residents of his new home, but members of his family. Welcome to the family, Brutus. And don't ever start jumping on the counters!
And now his tale is told.
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
Trent and I have never really been cat people. I think that a big part of this for me is the experiences I had with Alice. During the hellish couple of years that I lived under her care, it was evident that cats were more important to her than human children. Especially more important than the orphan children of her husband's Hungarian relatives. As a result, I went through a period during which I actively disliked cats; this phase ended many years ago.
Trent has been a dog person for many years, as have I. We both take issue with the type of cat that will walk all over the kitchen counters and things of that nature. It kind of disgusts us. But we have had cordial interactions with cats who own humans of our acquaintance.
Many changes have occurred recently in the land of The Lunatic and company. Perhaps these will be discussed in a future blog post. One of the results of these changes is that Liz, my sister, has become a member of our household. Along with her comes a well-behaved and shy (reclusive?) cat named Brutus.
Brutus is a substantial (chunky monkey) grey cat that Liz adopted as a kitten. He was a motherless feral cat, and has some issues as a result. It takes him a while to warm up to people, and when he sleeps, as some cats seem to do for about 20-odd hours per day, he cries because of his bad dreams. It's sad and very touching, and frankly a bit heartbreaking.
So here's a brief rundown of Brutus' first week at the home of The Lunatic.
On Wednesday evening Brutus arrives in a pet carrier lined with his mother's bedsheets. The carrier door is opened, and Liz and I adjourn to the living room. Within less than an hour, this shy and frightened cat comes into the living room and gets on the pullout bed with Liz. He gives me a look, jumps off the bed, and hops up on the loveseat next to me. He allows me to pet and admire him and then goes back to his mommy. Brutus quickly discovers that the furniture here really suits him - both the pullout bed and the recliner provide hiding places that are perfect for a shy, fat cat.
Each evening, Brutus comes out from his nesting areas and cuddles with Liz. He also comes to see me, asking for some treats from the package I keep nearby. By Monday evening, he walks over my lap to visit Trent for treats, and allows him to pet and admire him until the treats are eaten. He then hisses something sassy about no treats, no touching, and goes back to his mother.
On Tuesday evening, Brutus is surprised to find himself more interested in the actions and behaviors of the other humans than he expected. He hears me place his bowl on the counter and get him some canned food which I bring to the living room. He eats some with gusto, and does more of his customary exploring. He becomes frustrated when his desire to follow Trent conflicts with his desire to stay with Liz. He deals with this by going to one of his hiding places. When Trent sprays some air freshener from a loud spray can, Brutus gets startled and runs for cover. In his aunt and uncle's bedroom! Liz comes in a short while later to lay on the end of the bed. Brutus joins the family and places himself between mom and aunt and allows both to pet him, AKA worship the cat.
When The Lunatic moves around during the night, she discovers that a big fat cat has moved so that he can lay next to her leg. She later feels him jump on the bed (after spending some time with Liz) but doesn't feel him lay down. That must be when he was with Trent. One cat, two new humans, and seven nights - I think we have been accepted as not only residents of his new home, but members of his family. Welcome to the family, Brutus. And don't ever start jumping on the counters!
And now his tale is told.
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
Monday, January 23, 2017
The Qimas Solution
It was very early in the morning. By early, I mean get up and tinkle and go back to sleep o'clock. It was dark and at least three or four hours before my planned wake-up time. I had one very clear and urgent thought as my mind crossed into consciousness. Their bodies haven't had enough time to clear the Qimas Solution before they have to wake up.
I became aware that it was too early for me to get up for anything other than to answer nature's call. I shook my head as I stumbled into the bathroom. What the heck had I been dreaming about? As a general rule, if I wake with coherent (or even partly incoherent) thoughts related to a dream, I remember at least the last part of the dream. This time I was coming up completely blank. I was able to find some amusement from the idea I had awakened with. In fact, I opened up Blogger on my phone and saved the title you see at the top of this post. It was just so odd, and I didn't want to wake up later with it fully erased from my memory.
When I woke up hours later, the memory of the incident was still there, but I couldn't remember the name of the Solution that was still coursing through the bloodstreams of the faceless and possibly victimized bodies. I looked at the title on my phone and once again shook my head. I still had no clue what it meant or where it came from.
You may think that this is a tempest in a teapot, and it sort of is. But I routinely have extremely vivid dreams. I suppose most of us do, or the dreams wouldn't accomplish the mysterious functions they perform. But I am also someone who remembers most of their dreams. In fact, when I have repeating dreams, or serial dreams as I tend to call them, I will frequently have thoughts like oh no, not this dream again! Many people, including Trent, seldom if ever remember their dreams in the morning. I have awakened happy, sad, irritated, frightened, disgusted - you get the idea - all because of remembered dreams.
The following night (last night), I woke up numerous times thinking about the silly Qimas (KEE-mus) solution and the blog post I was going to write about it. I was, over and over again, composing the blog post in my sleep! After about the fourth time I awakened while mentally writing, I promised myself that I would write it before the next time I went to bed. And that is why I am writing, and you are reading, about this odd bit of mental nonsense.
I fervently hope that the Qimas Solution will not affect your dreams tonight. Since I don't know the contents or purpose of the Solution, I have no idea of the potential side effects. And I hope that by the time I go to bed tonight, the Qimas Solution has had sufficient time to clear itself from my bloodstream!
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
I became aware that it was too early for me to get up for anything other than to answer nature's call. I shook my head as I stumbled into the bathroom. What the heck had I been dreaming about? As a general rule, if I wake with coherent (or even partly incoherent) thoughts related to a dream, I remember at least the last part of the dream. This time I was coming up completely blank. I was able to find some amusement from the idea I had awakened with. In fact, I opened up Blogger on my phone and saved the title you see at the top of this post. It was just so odd, and I didn't want to wake up later with it fully erased from my memory.
When I woke up hours later, the memory of the incident was still there, but I couldn't remember the name of the Solution that was still coursing through the bloodstreams of the faceless and possibly victimized bodies. I looked at the title on my phone and once again shook my head. I still had no clue what it meant or where it came from.
You may think that this is a tempest in a teapot, and it sort of is. But I routinely have extremely vivid dreams. I suppose most of us do, or the dreams wouldn't accomplish the mysterious functions they perform. But I am also someone who remembers most of their dreams. In fact, when I have repeating dreams, or serial dreams as I tend to call them, I will frequently have thoughts like oh no, not this dream again! Many people, including Trent, seldom if ever remember their dreams in the morning. I have awakened happy, sad, irritated, frightened, disgusted - you get the idea - all because of remembered dreams.
The following night (last night), I woke up numerous times thinking about the silly Qimas (KEE-mus) solution and the blog post I was going to write about it. I was, over and over again, composing the blog post in my sleep! After about the fourth time I awakened while mentally writing, I promised myself that I would write it before the next time I went to bed. And that is why I am writing, and you are reading, about this odd bit of mental nonsense.
I fervently hope that the Qimas Solution will not affect your dreams tonight. Since I don't know the contents or purpose of the Solution, I have no idea of the potential side effects. And I hope that by the time I go to bed tonight, the Qimas Solution has had sufficient time to clear itself from my bloodstream!
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
Monday, January 9, 2017
How to Open a Box
Having been around for a little while, I have learned many things. I have also not learned many things. Today I want to share a valuable lesson with you on how to open a box.
In order to open a box, you must first acquire one. Think of something that you would like to eat. Look at your phone's treasure trove of apps with store membership rewards and coupons and specials. Check your rebates app(s). Determine, through the use of these research venues, which store has the prize which you seek.
After loading any and all applicable coupons and rebates on your cellular device, arrive at the store and locate the product. Scan the shelves to find the closest-to-perfect match. Breakfast biscuits? Check. Ooh, chocolate? Check. Itty-bitty bite-sized morsels of yum so that you don't have to bite into them and send crumbs tumbling everywhere? Check. While waiting in line, resist the brightly colored packages of chocolates, candies, and beef jerkey. Ignore the gums and mints and Burt's Bees lip balm, and the tabloid headlines that scream at you with their bold print. Pay for your treasure (and your other groceries - you wouldn't drive to the market for just one thing, after all) and head home.
Curse your insanity as you lift your ridiculously heavy reuseable shopping bags onto your shoulders. Carry so much that it makes every muscle in the upper half of your body tremble, because you do not want to make a second trip out to the car. Take everything that requires refrigeration or freezing out of the bags, stow them away accordingly, and collapse onto your favorite sofa or chair for a few minutes of recovery. Heave a sigh and gather up your cellphone to take pictures of barcodes and your receipts because rebates are important. Go sit on the bed with your legs up just because it feels good.
Forget about your treasure until a day or two later. Smile as you recall that box full of cute little chocolate yumminess in individual-serving packets. Sit down with the box in your lap and see the upside-down instruction to gently lift the flap with your finger. Squeeze your finger under the end of the flap and realize there's enough glue there to build a model airplane big enough to hold small children, and strong enough to hold together while it flies. Notice the inadvertent gasps coming out of your mouth. You will not be defeated by a little cardboard box!
Slide you finger across the half-inch wide swath of glue as the lid reduces in thickness by half - that glue isn't moving for anybody, anytime. Holler as the glue slices your finger a little bit. Throw the box down, wash your hands, and find a bandage. You don't want blood from a chocolate injury all over the house. Return to the box and realize that you'll never be able to use the locking tab feature - the locking tab is very thin and the slot is covered with the killer glue. Decide that being careful is no longer necessary and just tear the other side of the lid to get into the box.
Nibble on your morsels of chocolate yumminess while emptying the box into a resealable and more finger-friendly container that is perfectly suitable for snacks. Remind yourself that the next time you buy these overpriced nuggets of yum you will just open the box with a knife or some scissors. Wait three months and repeat the process because you forgot all about that evil glue and its bloodlust. Sigh and swear to yourself it won't happen again. Until the next time.
A note from The Lunatic: No, I didn't cut myself. But when I was trying to open that box today, I could imagine that happening to some unsuspecting seeker of chocolate delight. And I did not tear the box lid open. But for a second there I really wanted to!
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
In order to open a box, you must first acquire one. Think of something that you would like to eat. Look at your phone's treasure trove of apps with store membership rewards and coupons and specials. Check your rebates app(s). Determine, through the use of these research venues, which store has the prize which you seek.
After loading any and all applicable coupons and rebates on your cellular device, arrive at the store and locate the product. Scan the shelves to find the closest-to-perfect match. Breakfast biscuits? Check. Ooh, chocolate? Check. Itty-bitty bite-sized morsels of yum so that you don't have to bite into them and send crumbs tumbling everywhere? Check. While waiting in line, resist the brightly colored packages of chocolates, candies, and beef jerkey. Ignore the gums and mints and Burt's Bees lip balm, and the tabloid headlines that scream at you with their bold print. Pay for your treasure (and your other groceries - you wouldn't drive to the market for just one thing, after all) and head home.
Curse your insanity as you lift your ridiculously heavy reuseable shopping bags onto your shoulders. Carry so much that it makes every muscle in the upper half of your body tremble, because you do not want to make a second trip out to the car. Take everything that requires refrigeration or freezing out of the bags, stow them away accordingly, and collapse onto your favorite sofa or chair for a few minutes of recovery. Heave a sigh and gather up your cellphone to take pictures of barcodes and your receipts because rebates are important. Go sit on the bed with your legs up just because it feels good.
Forget about your treasure until a day or two later. Smile as you recall that box full of cute little chocolate yumminess in individual-serving packets. Sit down with the box in your lap and see the upside-down instruction to gently lift the flap with your finger. Squeeze your finger under the end of the flap and realize there's enough glue there to build a model airplane big enough to hold small children, and strong enough to hold together while it flies. Notice the inadvertent gasps coming out of your mouth. You will not be defeated by a little cardboard box!
Slide you finger across the half-inch wide swath of glue as the lid reduces in thickness by half - that glue isn't moving for anybody, anytime. Holler as the glue slices your finger a little bit. Throw the box down, wash your hands, and find a bandage. You don't want blood from a chocolate injury all over the house. Return to the box and realize that you'll never be able to use the locking tab feature - the locking tab is very thin and the slot is covered with the killer glue. Decide that being careful is no longer necessary and just tear the other side of the lid to get into the box.
Nibble on your morsels of chocolate yumminess while emptying the box into a resealable and more finger-friendly container that is perfectly suitable for snacks. Remind yourself that the next time you buy these overpriced nuggets of yum you will just open the box with a knife or some scissors. Wait three months and repeat the process because you forgot all about that evil glue and its bloodlust. Sigh and swear to yourself it won't happen again. Until the next time.
A note from The Lunatic: No, I didn't cut myself. But when I was trying to open that box today, I could imagine that happening to some unsuspecting seeker of chocolate delight. And I did not tear the box lid open. But for a second there I really wanted to!
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The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
Friday, January 6, 2017
The College
In the wake of our most recent Presidential election, I have seen numerous charming posts on social media telling everyone why the U. S. Electoral College is such a wonderful thing. These posts are, of course, intended to show everyone who reads them that the Electoral College's selection of Donald Trump as the Pesident of the United States in spite of the popular vote being in favor of Hillary Clinton is a good thing. Before some of you get your knickers in a twist, I am not going to say anything in this post about who I wanted or didn't want elected. This is all about understanding the Electoral College.
As I said before, since the election I have seen a lot of charming posts about why the Electoral College is so fabulous. Why do I keep referring to them as being charming? Because even though they are well-intentioned and sound quite brilliant and factual, most of them are simply misguided regurgitations of incorrect information. I'd like to address acouple of the misconceptions that keep being stated as facts.
Claim: the Electoral College was created to balance the voting power between higher- and lower-population areas. Actually, this is not the case. The Electoral College was created because our Founding Fathers weren't sure that the power to elect the President should lie in the hands (votes) of the uneducated, inexperienced (not so bright?) general public. The FFs wanted the President to be chosen by a vote of the Congress. The Electoral College process was created as an alternative to choosing one option or the other.
Claim: the Electoral College gives an equal say in the election to areas with lower population density. Have you seen the same meme that I have? It shows a map of the USA that is mostly shaded in gray. There are scattered areas that are shaded in blue, and on the map it states that half of the US population is in these counties. It goes on to say, "Now, imagine living in the gray areas and the blue zones voted opposite of you. This is why we have an Electoral College. Civics 101. You're welcome." Here's the meme in question:
Guess what? The Electoral College does exactly what this meme claims it protects us from. You see, this meme implies that the College prevents the larger populations from deciding for the smaller ones. In a nutshell, here's how the votes are apportioned. The 50 States and the District of Columbia all have Electoral College votes. Each State (for this purpose, we will use the term State to refer to DC) has at least 3 votes. Each State has 2 votes because each State has 2 Senators. Each State has at least one other vote, because they also get one vote for each member the State has in the House of Representatives. And how is the number of each State's Representatives determined? Why, by population, of course.
And how are the votes distributed? Well, before the election, each State selects groups of Electoral College voters. Alaska, which has 3 votes, has 3 electors selected by their individual parties. These voters are dedicated to giving their votes to their party's candidate. In the 2016 election, in other words, there would be 3 electors with votes for Clinton, 3 for Trump, etcetera. I know that some of you are thinking that adds up to more than 3. So here's where it gets even more interesting. In 49 of the 51 Electoral States (everywhere but Maine and Nebraska), it's an all-or-nothing vote. So if the majority of the general public's votes in Alaska go to the Democratic cadidate, the 3 Democratic Electors represent the entire State and all 3 votes go to the Democratic candidate.
Let's take this a step further. The higher the State's population, the higher their number of Representatives, and the higher their number of Electoral College votes. And the truth is that regardless of people's opinions to the contrary, larger population blocs carry those votes. Colorado has 9 votes, and the greatest population density is in the Denver-Boulder Metro area. Yes, we potentially decide the Electoral votes for the whole State. But there are 48 other Electoral States that work the same way. The largest number of votes in the State determines the Electoral votes from that State. There are 6 Electoral States that have 20 or more votes each, with a total of 191. There are 33 Electoral States with 10 or less votes each, totaling 189 votes. The numbers don't lie. That's 6 States with more Electoral power than 33 other states. So I think this begs the question: do you still believe those posts saying that the Electoral College is the great equalizer?
Note: My source of information on the Electoral College is the National Archives and Records Administration, which you can access through this link.
Electoral College
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The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
As I said before, since the election I have seen a lot of charming posts about why the Electoral College is so fabulous. Why do I keep referring to them as being charming? Because even though they are well-intentioned and sound quite brilliant and factual, most of them are simply misguided regurgitations of incorrect information. I'd like to address acouple of the misconceptions that keep being stated as facts.
Claim: the Electoral College was created to balance the voting power between higher- and lower-population areas. Actually, this is not the case. The Electoral College was created because our Founding Fathers weren't sure that the power to elect the President should lie in the hands (votes) of the uneducated, inexperienced (not so bright?) general public. The FFs wanted the President to be chosen by a vote of the Congress. The Electoral College process was created as an alternative to choosing one option or the other.
Claim: the Electoral College gives an equal say in the election to areas with lower population density. Have you seen the same meme that I have? It shows a map of the USA that is mostly shaded in gray. There are scattered areas that are shaded in blue, and on the map it states that half of the US population is in these counties. It goes on to say, "Now, imagine living in the gray areas and the blue zones voted opposite of you. This is why we have an Electoral College. Civics 101. You're welcome." Here's the meme in question:
Guess what? The Electoral College does exactly what this meme claims it protects us from. You see, this meme implies that the College prevents the larger populations from deciding for the smaller ones. In a nutshell, here's how the votes are apportioned. The 50 States and the District of Columbia all have Electoral College votes. Each State (for this purpose, we will use the term State to refer to DC) has at least 3 votes. Each State has 2 votes because each State has 2 Senators. Each State has at least one other vote, because they also get one vote for each member the State has in the House of Representatives. And how is the number of each State's Representatives determined? Why, by population, of course.
And how are the votes distributed? Well, before the election, each State selects groups of Electoral College voters. Alaska, which has 3 votes, has 3 electors selected by their individual parties. These voters are dedicated to giving their votes to their party's candidate. In the 2016 election, in other words, there would be 3 electors with votes for Clinton, 3 for Trump, etcetera. I know that some of you are thinking that adds up to more than 3. So here's where it gets even more interesting. In 49 of the 51 Electoral States (everywhere but Maine and Nebraska), it's an all-or-nothing vote. So if the majority of the general public's votes in Alaska go to the Democratic cadidate, the 3 Democratic Electors represent the entire State and all 3 votes go to the Democratic candidate.
Let's take this a step further. The higher the State's population, the higher their number of Representatives, and the higher their number of Electoral College votes. And the truth is that regardless of people's opinions to the contrary, larger population blocs carry those votes. Colorado has 9 votes, and the greatest population density is in the Denver-Boulder Metro area. Yes, we potentially decide the Electoral votes for the whole State. But there are 48 other Electoral States that work the same way. The largest number of votes in the State determines the Electoral votes from that State. There are 6 Electoral States that have 20 or more votes each, with a total of 191. There are 33 Electoral States with 10 or less votes each, totaling 189 votes. The numbers don't lie. That's 6 States with more Electoral power than 33 other states. So I think this begs the question: do you still believe those posts saying that the Electoral College is the great equalizer?
Note: My source of information on the Electoral College is the National Archives and Records Administration, which you can access through this link.
Electoral College
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
Gifted
Another Christmas has come and gone and a new year is rapidly approaching. We find ourselves still enjoying the newness of the gifts given and recieved, and revel in the lingering warmth of the holiday. Amid all of the delicious food and snacks and presents and contentment, sometimes we overlook the intangible gifts of this and other seasons.
Like many who celebrate holidays at this time of year, I always find myself wishing that I could do more for others. I am also stunned and humbled by the gifts and love that I receive. The general warmth and goodwill that can be felt around holidays is a truly special thing. As I reflect on the things that made these recent days a delight, what really sticks out for me are not just the big things, but the small, the delightful, the lovely moments.
One of the best things about Christmas happened on Christmas Eve. After working a long day in the meat and seafood department of a large supermarket, my sister Liz came over to spend Christmas Eve with us. She was able to wipe off the tarnish of customers who waited until just before the store was closed and were furious that there was no more prime rib. They couldn't believe the store would be closed on Christmas. What if they needed food? We shook our heads about the drama and exchanged our love and our gifts.
Our feast of clam chowder and garlicky rolls was accompanied by smiles and laughter, the best seasonings of all. What made this Christmas even more special is that Liz told us that it was the best and most relaxed Christmas that she has had in at least fifteen years. We are hoping for it to be the first of many together - Liz and her cat Brutus will be making their home with us soon. Perhaps The Lunatic will write some more about this on a later date. Suffice it to say that this is a positive and welcome change.
The next day, The Lunatic and husband are sitting in the back row at a church service. Always the back row, because people who are sick tend to cough their cooties toward the front of the room. An immunosuppressed person tends to stay more healthy sitting behind the cooties. On one end of the back row are an extended family group, including grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and cousins. All of the little ones are under five years of age. Grandpa produces a bag of multi-colored miniature marshmallows to help keep the kids occupied and to try and prevent boredom. A boy of about four passes by and tells me that the boy with him is his little brother. A few minutes later, he stands in front of me, the bag of marshmallows clutched in his little hands. "Do you want a marshmallow? They taste really good!" What response could I have other than to thank him and eat a marshmallow? It was one of the best marshmallows I have ever eaten. It was probably one of those magical marshmallows that could grow Grinch hearts three sizes on any day, so naturally it touched mine. This child who doesn't even know me, and who wasn't told to share, couldn't keep the simple joy of marshmallows all to himself. I felt well and truly gifted.
On the day after Christmas, we went to visit our friends Marie and Thayne. Also there were her daughter and son-in-law, and their two daughters, aged four and almost one year. Sometimes I forget how easy it can be to make a small child happy. The baby was thrilled to have anyone say anything to her in a silly tone of voice. If her smile had been any larger, you could have fallen right in to that pool of happiness. And I was able to score some points with Big Sister when I asked if I could have one of her (plastic) cupcakes. She was delighted to place it on a plastic plate and serve it to me. Being someone who is not afraid to look silly in front of a small child, I let my goofiness run free. Her face lit up as I "slurped" up the frosting and exclaimed at how much I liked frosting and that her cupcakes were very yummy. Getting huge smiles from two children within minutes is a gift beyond compare. I went home feeling once again that I had been very greatly gifted.
I'm wishing for you, my friends and readers, that every day you live can be gifted. If we can still get joy from the intangible things in life, what more do we need?
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
Like many who celebrate holidays at this time of year, I always find myself wishing that I could do more for others. I am also stunned and humbled by the gifts and love that I receive. The general warmth and goodwill that can be felt around holidays is a truly special thing. As I reflect on the things that made these recent days a delight, what really sticks out for me are not just the big things, but the small, the delightful, the lovely moments.
One of the best things about Christmas happened on Christmas Eve. After working a long day in the meat and seafood department of a large supermarket, my sister Liz came over to spend Christmas Eve with us. She was able to wipe off the tarnish of customers who waited until just before the store was closed and were furious that there was no more prime rib. They couldn't believe the store would be closed on Christmas. What if they needed food? We shook our heads about the drama and exchanged our love and our gifts.
Our feast of clam chowder and garlicky rolls was accompanied by smiles and laughter, the best seasonings of all. What made this Christmas even more special is that Liz told us that it was the best and most relaxed Christmas that she has had in at least fifteen years. We are hoping for it to be the first of many together - Liz and her cat Brutus will be making their home with us soon. Perhaps The Lunatic will write some more about this on a later date. Suffice it to say that this is a positive and welcome change.
The next day, The Lunatic and husband are sitting in the back row at a church service. Always the back row, because people who are sick tend to cough their cooties toward the front of the room. An immunosuppressed person tends to stay more healthy sitting behind the cooties. On one end of the back row are an extended family group, including grandparents, aunts and uncles, brothers and cousins. All of the little ones are under five years of age. Grandpa produces a bag of multi-colored miniature marshmallows to help keep the kids occupied and to try and prevent boredom. A boy of about four passes by and tells me that the boy with him is his little brother. A few minutes later, he stands in front of me, the bag of marshmallows clutched in his little hands. "Do you want a marshmallow? They taste really good!" What response could I have other than to thank him and eat a marshmallow? It was one of the best marshmallows I have ever eaten. It was probably one of those magical marshmallows that could grow Grinch hearts three sizes on any day, so naturally it touched mine. This child who doesn't even know me, and who wasn't told to share, couldn't keep the simple joy of marshmallows all to himself. I felt well and truly gifted.
On the day after Christmas, we went to visit our friends Marie and Thayne. Also there were her daughter and son-in-law, and their two daughters, aged four and almost one year. Sometimes I forget how easy it can be to make a small child happy. The baby was thrilled to have anyone say anything to her in a silly tone of voice. If her smile had been any larger, you could have fallen right in to that pool of happiness. And I was able to score some points with Big Sister when I asked if I could have one of her (plastic) cupcakes. She was delighted to place it on a plastic plate and serve it to me. Being someone who is not afraid to look silly in front of a small child, I let my goofiness run free. Her face lit up as I "slurped" up the frosting and exclaimed at how much I liked frosting and that her cupcakes were very yummy. Getting huge smiles from two children within minutes is a gift beyond compare. I went home feeling once again that I had been very greatly gifted.
I'm wishing for you, my friends and readers, that every day you live can be gifted. If we can still get joy from the intangible things in life, what more do we need?
***************************************************************
The Tip Jar:
As always, I am happy and honored to write for you. It brings me great joy, and I hope that it gives you joy and/or food for thought. If you'd like to support the cause, please visit:
https://www.paypal.me/TheLunatic
Thank you for reading!
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