It's official, Michael Sam is now the first openly gay player to be drafted by an NFL franchise, the St Louis Rams. After he was picked in the seventh round of the NFL draft, he did what any person would do, he kissed his significant other. In the aftermath of this completely normal human activity, the sound of heads exploding must have echoed throughout certain regions of the U.S.
With that kiss, Michael Sam has utterly ruined watching big, muscular guys in tight spandex getting physical with each other every Sunday after church! FOREVER!!!
Here's wishing a long, successful career to Mr Sam, and a happy life together for the couple.
Cross-posted at Rumproast.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Bilocation
Tonight, I have to cover two sites on the job- it's what happens when corners are cut. I'll be leaving soon, so I don't have time for a substantial post... I think I'll post a video and hit the road. Today, the local radio station played an oldie-but-goodie by Joan Armatrading. I haven't heard Drop the Pilot in years, but hearing it today was a nice nostalgia trip.
Now, it's time to get my butt up to the other site... hopefully the radio will provide another nostalgia trip on my trip.
Now, it's time to get my butt up to the other site... hopefully the radio will provide another nostalgia trip on my trip.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Thoroughly Nettled...
Aunt Snow's latest post shows a picture of a lovely dinner that her son cooked. The last thing I cooked was a big pot full of delicious, nutritious stinging nettles. Every spring, I subsist largely on nettles- they grow profusely on a couple of my jobsites, so they are free and plentiful. Even better, they are packed with protein, and historically were a crucial post-winter food, bridging the lean period between the end of winter the the appearance of late spring's bounty.
To be entirely candid, I merely parboiled the nettles to neutralize the "sting" of their urticating formic acid-filled hairs. Now that they are parcooked, I will treat them in the same way I treat spinach. I can now use them to make nettle pesto, nettle soup, creamed nettles, nettle fritters, nettle pie, nettle omelets... thankfully, unlike this guy, I actually like the basic component of my spring diet. The nettles are good until their flowers develop, which in these parts typically occurs in late June- after that, phytoliths in the leaves can harm the kidneys. Given their ubiquity on-site, they'll be a major component of my meals for the next month and a half.
I am always happy to see the nettles appear on the property, though I believe I am the only one who feels this way- the wineberries receive a much warmer reception.
To be entirely candid, I merely parboiled the nettles to neutralize the "sting" of their urticating formic acid-filled hairs. Now that they are parcooked, I will treat them in the same way I treat spinach. I can now use them to make nettle pesto, nettle soup, creamed nettles, nettle fritters, nettle pie, nettle omelets... thankfully, unlike this guy, I actually like the basic component of my spring diet. The nettles are good until their flowers develop, which in these parts typically occurs in late June- after that, phytoliths in the leaves can harm the kidneys. Given their ubiquity on-site, they'll be a major component of my meals for the next month and a half.
I am always happy to see the nettles appear on the property, though I believe I am the only one who feels this way- the wineberries receive a much warmer reception.
Monday, May 5, 2014
Given up on Fighting the Marxicans
For the past two years, I have warned about the dangers of the Marxican threat. Well, this year, I decided to give up the fight, and to succumb to the Marxican invasion.
Having a day off from work, I headed over to the City of New Rochelle, which has a large Mexican population, mainly from Jalisco and Michoacan states. Yeah, I know Cinco de Mayo is a Pueblan holiday, but I figured that, just as the owners of a bar in Seattle wouldn't bat an eye at people drinking Sam Adams Boston Lager to celebrate Patriot's Day even though it is New England's holiday, the Jalisco-born owner of a family hole-in-the-wall wouldn't mind a big gabacho eating in his place to celebrate a Pueblan holiday.
Accordingly, I traveled to the "Queen City on the Sound" to dine at the redoubtable Mr Taco, a tiny restaurant that I have been patronizing since the days I had a big blond 'fro. The restaurant has the been owned by the same family for the past twenty-plus years. The owners are a diminutive man with a bright smile (how does he stay so skinny working in this place? It must be the frenetic pace at which he plies the griddle and the stove-top full of simmering cauldrons) and his sweet-natured wife. The place has all the atmosphere of the waiting room of a municipal bus terminal, but the food is amazing. I ordered a taco de carnitas, a taco de chorizo and a taco de lengua. To accompany my meal, I had a bottle of Dos Equis- as the proprietress handed me the bottle, I cracked a joke: "El sabor del éxito." which earned me a chuckle.
Authentic Mexican food is a lot subtler than the Tex-Mex stuff served up in chain restaurants... there are no globs of sour cream or mounds of grated processed cheese food product. At a genuine Mexican restaurant, the meat is well-spiced but not too hot (the proprietors have a bottle of strong homemade hot sauce for those who wish to heat up their food- I joked to the proprietress that I needed the hot sauce because I wanted to cry lágrimas del fuego. The sauce isn't so bad that I cried tears of flame, but it might just get me in the end. Anyway, the food is well-prepared, the carnitas are crispy little chunks of pork, the chorizo is crumbled into well-browned bits redolent of spices. The tongue was long-simmered and mild. Each taco was topped with finely diced raw onion and a couple of torn leaves of cilantro. The plate was accompanied by half a lemon- a squeeze of lemon juice, a squirt of hot sauce, and I was experiencing total culinary bliss. I should have taken a picture of the plate, but I was pretty ravenous. There are a couple of pictures on "Yelp", if you need to see what Mr Taco's fare looks like.
After my lunch, I headed across the street to La Flor de Michoacan to get a couple of paletas- on this visit choosing an eggnog popsicle and a lime popsicle. Mexican popsicles are made with fresh ingredients- the lovely lime popsicle was a beautiful green slab of pulpy deliciousness, the eggnog popsicle had a nice hint of spice. If you have a paletería anywhere in your vicinity, by all means go there, and bring a cooler so you can stock up on popsicles to take home.
For all of my joking about the "Marxican threat", I have long had an appreciation of the various cultures of Mexico. When I was a high-school kid working in the local deli, I got to know a lot of Mexican guys who were working as gardeners. They'd come in after work to buy Bud tall boys, and often the only words of English they knew were "Keeng Size Booweiser!" They thought it was a hoot when the blond kid behind the counter could shoot the shit with them in Spanish. For all that Mexicans are demonized by the right-wing in this country, the Mexicans I have known have embodied the virtues that right-wingers claim are uniquely American- they tend to be religious, they value their families, and they have a remarkable work ethic. The main problems in Mexican culture can largely be laid at the feet of the United States- the post-NAFTA maquiladora boom went belly-up as factories moved to China, where labor costs were even cheaper and environmental regulations more lax. The average Mexican farmer was hit hard when cheap American corn hit the Mexican market, forcing many of the campesinos off the land. The drug trade which has devastated wide swathes of Mexican society is driven by demand in the United States. My feeling is that the average Mexican and the average American are suffering from the effects of the same policies which benefit a tiny minority of oligarchs. It's a pity the average American is swayed by anti-immigrant propaganda to realize what the San Patricios quickly figured out- the enemy is not the peasant of a different race, but the exploiters of all races. I value my Mexican neighbors and their contributions to American society, and I was happy to partake of their culture today.
Hey, how about a number from Frontera Bugalú? I had to pleasure of meeting these folks and I immediately took a liking to them (they reminded me of a bunch of groovy grad students), and they certainly can rock the house:
Having a day off from work, I headed over to the City of New Rochelle, which has a large Mexican population, mainly from Jalisco and Michoacan states. Yeah, I know Cinco de Mayo is a Pueblan holiday, but I figured that, just as the owners of a bar in Seattle wouldn't bat an eye at people drinking Sam Adams Boston Lager to celebrate Patriot's Day even though it is New England's holiday, the Jalisco-born owner of a family hole-in-the-wall wouldn't mind a big gabacho eating in his place to celebrate a Pueblan holiday.
Accordingly, I traveled to the "Queen City on the Sound" to dine at the redoubtable Mr Taco, a tiny restaurant that I have been patronizing since the days I had a big blond 'fro. The restaurant has the been owned by the same family for the past twenty-plus years. The owners are a diminutive man with a bright smile (how does he stay so skinny working in this place? It must be the frenetic pace at which he plies the griddle and the stove-top full of simmering cauldrons) and his sweet-natured wife. The place has all the atmosphere of the waiting room of a municipal bus terminal, but the food is amazing. I ordered a taco de carnitas, a taco de chorizo and a taco de lengua. To accompany my meal, I had a bottle of Dos Equis- as the proprietress handed me the bottle, I cracked a joke: "El sabor del éxito." which earned me a chuckle.
Authentic Mexican food is a lot subtler than the Tex-Mex stuff served up in chain restaurants... there are no globs of sour cream or mounds of grated processed cheese food product. At a genuine Mexican restaurant, the meat is well-spiced but not too hot (the proprietors have a bottle of strong homemade hot sauce for those who wish to heat up their food- I joked to the proprietress that I needed the hot sauce because I wanted to cry lágrimas del fuego. The sauce isn't so bad that I cried tears of flame, but it might just get me in the end. Anyway, the food is well-prepared, the carnitas are crispy little chunks of pork, the chorizo is crumbled into well-browned bits redolent of spices. The tongue was long-simmered and mild. Each taco was topped with finely diced raw onion and a couple of torn leaves of cilantro. The plate was accompanied by half a lemon- a squeeze of lemon juice, a squirt of hot sauce, and I was experiencing total culinary bliss. I should have taken a picture of the plate, but I was pretty ravenous. There are a couple of pictures on "Yelp", if you need to see what Mr Taco's fare looks like.
After my lunch, I headed across the street to La Flor de Michoacan to get a couple of paletas- on this visit choosing an eggnog popsicle and a lime popsicle. Mexican popsicles are made with fresh ingredients- the lovely lime popsicle was a beautiful green slab of pulpy deliciousness, the eggnog popsicle had a nice hint of spice. If you have a paletería anywhere in your vicinity, by all means go there, and bring a cooler so you can stock up on popsicles to take home.
For all of my joking about the "Marxican threat", I have long had an appreciation of the various cultures of Mexico. When I was a high-school kid working in the local deli, I got to know a lot of Mexican guys who were working as gardeners. They'd come in after work to buy Bud tall boys, and often the only words of English they knew were "Keeng Size Booweiser!" They thought it was a hoot when the blond kid behind the counter could shoot the shit with them in Spanish. For all that Mexicans are demonized by the right-wing in this country, the Mexicans I have known have embodied the virtues that right-wingers claim are uniquely American- they tend to be religious, they value their families, and they have a remarkable work ethic. The main problems in Mexican culture can largely be laid at the feet of the United States- the post-NAFTA maquiladora boom went belly-up as factories moved to China, where labor costs were even cheaper and environmental regulations more lax. The average Mexican farmer was hit hard when cheap American corn hit the Mexican market, forcing many of the campesinos off the land. The drug trade which has devastated wide swathes of Mexican society is driven by demand in the United States. My feeling is that the average Mexican and the average American are suffering from the effects of the same policies which benefit a tiny minority of oligarchs. It's a pity the average American is swayed by anti-immigrant propaganda to realize what the San Patricios quickly figured out- the enemy is not the peasant of a different race, but the exploiters of all races. I value my Mexican neighbors and their contributions to American society, and I was happy to partake of their culture today.
Hey, how about a number from Frontera Bugalú? I had to pleasure of meeting these folks and I immediately took a liking to them (they reminded me of a bunch of groovy grad students), and they certainly can rock the house:
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Goose on the Roof
Yo, what the hell are you doing up there on top of that shed?
You're not fooling anyone with that weathercock routine! Chanticleer you're not.
Maybe some dramatic back-lighting would give you some flair...
Needs a little work, bud. Maybe a theme song:
Goose, goose, goose on the roof,
Goose, goose, made to goose you.
Needs work... now GET DOWN OFF OF THERE!!!
You're not fooling anyone with that weathercock routine! Chanticleer you're not.
Maybe some dramatic back-lighting would give you some flair...
Needs a little work, bud. Maybe a theme song:
Goose, goose, goose on the roof,
Goose, goose, made to goose you.
Needs work... now GET DOWN OFF OF THERE!!!
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Opening Day
Today was the first day of the regular tourist season. We've had various group tours and a couple of special events, but this was the first day the doors were open to the general public for regular tours. I got to work with two of my favorite co-workers, a sweet woman who, like my mom's mom's mom had, has Graubünden roots, and a hilarious, flamboyant rocker gal who wears a ton of eccentric jewelry and used to be in an almost-up-and-coming band in Germany in the late 70s (the latter took these pictures last year). Visitation numbers were good- several tours had to be added to the schedule.
When things quieted down, I ascertained that the loon is still on site- my first sighting of it was two weeks ago. As an added treat, there was a osprey on the premises, perched in a tree in the same vicinity that the loon tends to occupy.
Behind our visitors' center, the gorgeous flowering bushes (I'm pretty sure they're Viburnum) are giving off a most delightful fragrance:
The daffodils are still doing quite well. More importantly, my stinging nettles are coming in like gangbusters, and I plan on picking a bunch of them tomorrow so I can make creamed nettles on my day off- I've gotten pretty good at making Yorkshire pudding over the past month or so, so I'll probably split the little things open so I can fill them with nettles.
I'm happy to say that our opening day was a success, and I hope that it portends a great upcoming season. I'm actually pretty optimistic here.
When things quieted down, I ascertained that the loon is still on site- my first sighting of it was two weeks ago. As an added treat, there was a osprey on the premises, perched in a tree in the same vicinity that the loon tends to occupy.
Behind our visitors' center, the gorgeous flowering bushes (I'm pretty sure they're Viburnum) are giving off a most delightful fragrance:
The daffodils are still doing quite well. More importantly, my stinging nettles are coming in like gangbusters, and I plan on picking a bunch of them tomorrow so I can make creamed nettles on my day off- I've gotten pretty good at making Yorkshire pudding over the past month or so, so I'll probably split the little things open so I can fill them with nettles.
I'm happy to say that our opening day was a success, and I hope that it portends a great upcoming season. I'm actually pretty optimistic here.
Friday, May 2, 2014
May Madness
So it begins... tonight is the first night of our new "swing for the fences" spring fundraiser. Our board wants to recapture the October magic that rakes in the majority of our organization's income. This morning, the technicians working on last-minute adjustments didn't leave until after 3AM. I am at my usual worksite, but will be heading to the site that's hosting the fundraiser in a few minutes. After locking up the place and checking to see that all is well, I have to return to the usual place in order to ready it for the first day of our regular season. I already turned on the public drinking fountain in front of the building- I don't expect any sudden freezes at this stage of the year.
My co-worker **REDACTED** will be heading up to shut down and lock up after the fundraiser tomorrow, so I'll be in the usual spot, closing up after opening day. I'll have some time to play around with the cats, and to harvest some of the stinging nettles which are finally coming out of the soil after a harsh winter.
The past couple of weeks have been a lot like October... I haven't done the full "Captain Nemo" act like I do then (I go down in the "submarine" and won't surface for a month), but if this new fundraiser is a hit, then it will be expanded, because nothing succeeds like success. It'll be another month of craziness, but anything that brings in cash helps to ensure my continuing employment.
In instances like this, one has to defer to the wisdom of Wreckless Eric:
My co-worker **REDACTED** will be heading up to shut down and lock up after the fundraiser tomorrow, so I'll be in the usual spot, closing up after opening day. I'll have some time to play around with the cats, and to harvest some of the stinging nettles which are finally coming out of the soil after a harsh winter.
The past couple of weeks have been a lot like October... I haven't done the full "Captain Nemo" act like I do then (I go down in the "submarine" and won't surface for a month), but if this new fundraiser is a hit, then it will be expanded, because nothing succeeds like success. It'll be another month of craziness, but anything that brings in cash helps to ensure my continuing employment.
In instances like this, one has to defer to the wisdom of Wreckless Eric:
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