My daughter has a doll. Well, she has more than one, but there is just one my wife dislikes and my wife hides this doll in the deepest recesses of my daughter's closet whenever she gets the chance. This doll bears an improbable name, dating from the time the Girl Child learned that people have more than one name and she decided her doll needed more than one name, too.

The Girl Child had an aunt visiting this weekend and the exchange when something like this:

Aunt: What's your doll's name?

GC: Mikado Philadelphia Booger.

Aunt: *Coughing fit* How did you come up with that name?

GC: We liked it. We thought it was a pretty name. So we that's what we named her.

No word on who the "we" was in the explanation. Frankly, I was a little bit afraid to ask.

I wonder, though, if any of her pretend friends had any input into the name.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:59 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 166 words, total size 1 kb.

I went, on Sunday, to attend an open house in the town next over from mine. The kids were napping, my wife was installed with the Sunday crossword, and I took myself off. It looked promising on paper: 6 bedrooms, .6 acres, walk to the train, all in a very nice town with a great school system. The advert didn't warn me to be prepared to be sad, which is too bad, because I was.

The house, you see, was an estate sale. It was being sold by the children of the previous inhabitants. The "children", the broker told me, were now all in their 50's and the previous inhabitants had lived there for many, many years and raised their family there. And then they died. But they didn't vacate the house.

They were there all around me, the ghosts. The clothes left hanging in some closets. The well worn books in certain book shelves. The family photos left on tables and hung on walls, many of them of such an obvious age that they must have depicted people long dead themselves. The papers left out on the desk in the home office. Their traces were everywhere, if you looked carefully.

The ghosts were there in the sadness of the house, in the way that the house had just been left there, and not all shined up for sale. The way the wall paper was peeling in certain rooms and the way the plaster walls in the master bedroom had been left cracked and stained from a roof leak. No way the previous inhabitants would have wanted their house to be shown like that. No way.

I felt more creeped out the longer I was in the house and I did not linger after I finished my tour.

What is it about an empty house, a dead house, that you can feel even before you go in? I suspected it was an estate sale just from the way the walk was poorly shoveled.

I felt like I was walking with ghosts the whole time I was there. I don't think I could own such a house.

Besides, it needed, easy $250,000 worth of work and was on a busy street which is a no-no with small children.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:58 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
Post contains 387 words, total size 2 kb.

Also posted over at Muniviana:

I read this weekend in the NY Times that Qatar may put up for sale its wholly owned television news network, Al-Jazeera. For sale. The whole network which is internationally known for anti-Semitism and anti-Americanism.

Who's up for pitching in with me, forming an investment syndicate, and buying the whole thing? Can't you just see it: Al-Munuvia. Forget Google news, we'd be our own news channel. I bet we could get some kind of government loan, too.

How cool would that be? Who's in?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:35 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 91 words, total size 1 kb.

I read a speech an an alumni magazine this weekend given by the president of the university in which he reflected on the civil rights struggle in the South and spoke about how "African-Americans" and "Anglo-Saxon Americans" joined hands and fought the good fight. Well, it was a good fight, no question about that. But what sent me over the edge was this pathetic example of academic, racial group think/categorization, speech. The good president meant, White. If he meant Anglo-Saxon American, he left out all of those of Italian, German, French, Polish, Russian, etc. heritage who did their part in the civil rights struggle. Besides, do we really need to point out that the Angles and the Saxons have not really been around much since, oh, the Roman occupation of Britain?

What's wrong with just plain American? It was good enough for my ancestors when they became American. They did not insist on some prefix to "honor their heritage". Besides, I think I've said this before, but claiming kinship with the entire African continent is just stupid. How many different languages are spoken in Africa? A lot. Too many for someone to claim a connection, credibly, to the entire continent.

Why aren't we happier about just being American? It is good enough for me.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:50 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
Post contains 226 words, total size 1 kb.

1 I was all excited to see that you'd posted something new...cause the last post just made my blood boil (yes, I agree with everyone else, horseshit.) Then I read this post...and realized that it makes my blood boil too. I'm with ya RP.

Posted by: C at January 30, 2005 05:12 PM (0yCni)

2 P to this horseshit, too!

Posted by: Mark at January 30, 2005 06:44 PM (9OVw0)

3 I was watching something on TV recently and a white man referred to the friend to his side as African-American. The friend looks at him and says, "No. We're not African-Americans anymore. We're Blacks again." So, just wait a few years and the political correctness statements will change. In other words, what's good enough for us doesn't mean what's good enough to those who are hyper-sensitive about their heritage.

Posted by: Linda at January 31, 2005 08:14 AM (9Pzdi)

4 Why is the assumption hyper-sensitive? Maybe it has to do with pride. I myself am an Asian-American, according to my brith certificate and documents from home. In the school systems, in my documents, and in the pictures of my family, I am an Asian-American. And I am proud of it, actually. My father came over, immigrated at a tender age, and made a real difference in his life. Over here, I am an American. There's no need to tell people I am of Asian origin, but if they ask, I will tell them. I'm not hyper-sensitive, I am not indignant, and I don't carry a flag around. If people just call me American, that's ok. But I have been classified as Asian-American and I am pretty damn proud of it. It's a tribute, I think. And one I am ok with.

Posted by: Helen at January 31, 2005 08:34 AM (MmtAs)

5 Thanks for a different point of view, Helen. As always, you add something valuable to the conversation.

Posted by: RP at January 31, 2005 09:37 AM (LlPKh)

6 Aren't we all technically hyphenated Americans? I'm second generation American, my grandparents on both sides came from Eastern Europe, so that would make me Polish- or Russian-American. Right?

Posted by: Howard at January 31, 2005 02:56 PM (lWNxu)

7 That's my point exactly, Howard. Most of us are from some place else, originally. And now we're all Americans. And that should kind of be enough, I think.

Posted by: RP at January 31, 2005 03:07 PM (X3Lfs)

8 Helen - There was no offense made by my comment. I really was speaking of people who ARE hyper-senstive. While you may not be, it's those who are who make a big deal of the distinction. As mentioned in the previous two comments to this one, we are all ???-American. I'm Norwegian-American, Bohemian-American and German-American. Just becauae I don't NEED the distinction doesn't mean I'm not proud of my heritage. It just means that American works just fine.

Posted by: Linda at January 31, 2005 06:51 PM (9Pzdi)

9 I've always felt it was odd to refer to black Americans as African-Americans since many could well be Of Australian Aboriginal descent, and either not know or be referred to as African-American by someone who doesn't know. And I would be Roumanian-Scottish-French-English-Irish-Hungarian-Greek-American, and who the hell wants to repeat that all the time? LOL

Posted by: Mark at February 03, 2005 10:04 PM (zZf4h)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

Today, I am shaking my head over the decision in Rhode Island to cancel the spelling bee because it would violate the spirit, I gather, of the No Child Left Behind Act. What, are they kidding me? They actually said:

"No Child Left Behind says all kids must reach high standards," [Assistant Superintendent of Schools Linda] Newman said. "ItÂ’s our responsibility to find as many ways as possible to accomplish this."

The administrators agreed, Newman said, that a spelling bee doesnÂ’t meet the criteria of all children reaching high standards -- because there can only be one winner, leaving all other students behind.

"ItÂ’s about one kid winning, several making it to the top and leaving all others behind. ThatÂ’s contrary to No Child Left Behind," Newman said.

A spelling bee, she continued, is about "some kids being winners, some kids being losers."

As a result, the spelling bee "sends a message that this isnÂ’t an all-kids movement," Newman said.

Furthermore, professional organizations now frown on competition at the elementary school level and are urging participation in activities that avoid winners, Newman said. ThatÂ’s why there are no sports teams at the elementary level, she said as an example.

The emphasis today, she said, is on building self-esteem in all students.

"You have to build positive self-esteem for all kids, so they believe theyÂ’re all winners," she said. "You want to build positive self-esteem so that all kids can get to where they want to go."

A spelling bee only benefits a few, not all, students, the elementary principals and Newman agreed, so it was canceled.

What a big, steaming pile of horse shit. Self esteem is built by accomplishment, by failure and success, by trying and winning, not by only being told you should have it. "Sends a message". I hate that phrase. The only thing missing here is that Ms. Newman doesn't claim to be "speaking truth to power" by her actions.

Do we need to say, by the way, that she's flat out wrong? NCLB addresses schools, not events like this. Don't cancel the event, make your damn school better.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 11:52 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
Post contains 352 words, total size 2 kb.

Last night, I sat with the Girl Child and worked on an assignment from Nursery School. At school, they are doing a lesson that involves, broadly, learning how to not judge a book by its cover or a person by their appearance. I had to talk to her about what people would not be able to tell about her just based on her appearance (which is pretty darn cute, if I do say so myself).

Her answers were:

*Polite and playful
*Norsk (that's Norwegian, in Norwegian)
*"Sharebul" (her invention meaning sharing and friendly, she explained)
*loves to cuddle with her brother
*likes to run around the dining room table
*loves to dance ("make sure you write that one down, Pappa, ok?")
*loves all her friends in her class
*loves to swim and play in the pool and go underwater
*loves to eat ice cream cake
*thirsty all the time (I don't think this one is true, really, but whatever)
*loves to read and play with her doctor kit
*likes to play on the piano and loves music

It got me thinking, after she went to sleep. I wonder what kind of image I project by my appearance. I know someone once asked me, as I was on the subway going down to court, if I was a lawyer so maybe I project that vibe. I know that you will make certain assumptions automatically about a person based on certain socio-economic status clues that the subject gives off, but that won't tell you about the important things like ice cream cake.

So what is it about me that you can't tell when you see me all dressed up in my lawyer suit:

*I love the Autumn
*I enjoy the smell of a fire in the fire place
*I like the tactile sensations of different fabrics
*I love to read
*I like to talk to strangers
*I am not patient, not at all
*I am a patriot, I think, with a great love of my country
*Fatty foods over sweets
*I tell a damn good joke
*I love to get into a cold bed and feel it warm up from my body heat
*I loathe cucumbers to the point where, if you ask, I'll just claim that I'm allergic
*I wish I had a little convertible to zip around in, I miss the one my grandfather used to have
*I am very bad about following the dictates of my religion, pretty much any of them
*Spring training games bore me
*I am trustworthy and people tend to repose trust and confidence in me
*I am a nostalgia hound
*I welcome and embrace change, so long as it doesn't interfere with any of my little routines
*I can self indulge with the best of them

That's a good start, I guess.

How about you? What would people not know about you just by looking at you?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 11:40 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
Post contains 497 words, total size 3 kb.

1 I speak passable French, down from fluent French when I was 13.(lack of use) I have been to more foreign countries than states of the Union. I think the Grateful Dead are the best rock and roll band that has ever existed. I haven't had a drink in over 16 years (and boy, you talk about the GC, I really AM thirsty all the time!) Actually, I meant alcoholic drink. Not that I stumble around, or anything! I think travel is the most important geographic and sociological education anyone can give their children, surpassing any of what they learn about those subjects in school. I can take raw lumber and turn it into interior millwork and cabinetry, and then install same.

Posted by: Mark at January 28, 2005 12:14 PM (39jTO)

2 Had lunch with Princess Diana. Was shopping around the corner from her the weekend she died in Paris. Conducted a computer workshop without a computer. Got locked out of the campus computer room. Have a wicked, rather good sense of humor. Grew up in a multi-national, cultural family. Was on the front page of home town paper's sports page. Understand more Spanish and French than I let on. Tarot card reader and spiritual channeler. Very intuitive and spiritual. A big reader of newspapers, magazines and books. Enjoy reading erotica. Major sports fan. Very shy. Learned gregarious behavior. Have lived through post concussive disorder. Love to laugh. That I know how to use a gun. I love to sing. I wanted to be a doctor. In my own way, I am a on-line hospice volunteer. I am madly, totally, completely in love with NYC. My best friend is dying of cancer. I wore braces on my teeth as an adult. My left foot is larger than my right foot. Met the "real" Bobby Jones and Viktor Frankel. and so forth and so on...

Posted by: Azalea at January 28, 2005 05:00 PM (hRxUm)

3 The most confident person with low-self-esteem that you will ever meet. Has met several rock bands and was, at one time, a Band Wife who traveled with and sang background vocals from the sound board. It was exciting -- for about two weeks. Loves to sing, and has been told (by one very sweet, sweet man) that when he closed his eyes, he thought Patsy Cline was in the room. An incurable romantic who cries at all weddings and sappy proposal scenes in dumb movies. Hell, even some commercials! Far too thin-skinned and sensitive for her own good. Whose idea of decadence is 440-threadcount Egyptian cotton sheets and ten pounds of faux-mink blanket, a cup of tea or cocoa, and a thick, new book. Getting to where she must read with dimestore magnifying glasses or suffer the consequences in lack of focusing ability when attempting to see across the room. Loves the smell of: dusty antiques shops/bookstores, freshly bathed babies and newly-mown grass. Who thinks the most beautiful sound in the world is the sound of a baby laughing. (And I would love to meet Azalea. LOL!)

Posted by: Margi at January 28, 2005 05:32 PM (zalxZ)

4 i love to read things that are complete garbage to relax i dislike the color orange i am addicted to fresh pineapple when i write - (to quote a friend) - my mind often gets far ahead of my fingers...and i rarely let them catch up i love to fish -and grew up doing it quite a bit (and not just little fish...the big ocean type) i like words games...scrabble...bookworm...etc... but...don't like crossword puzzles water soothes me water excites me i love the water i am comfy in work boots...and a cocktail dress oh...and i blog

Posted by: standing naked at January 28, 2005 06:11 PM (IAJcf)

5 I'm pretty much a "what you see is what you get" person. Although everyone is surprised when the bitch pops out because I've been told I look "soft". But I'm not always. Much to their surprise. ;-) I look Californian, I look like I'd love cats, I look like I have a good sense of humor, I look like I'm high-maintainance. And I am all those things. The biggest part of me people don't seem to see is that I can be a shark in the sales department. I can manipulate when I choose to do so. Oh, and apparently when I get really angry, like if I'm protecting my kids or something, I can look murderously insane. Which is a good thing at a moment like that, IMO. *grins*

Posted by: Amber at January 28, 2005 08:18 PM (zQE5D)

6 I, too, am pretty much a "what you see is what you get" type of person, but these are the things that generally surprise people about me. -I used to model/act in commercials when I was in high school. I did this so often, if I needed to go on TV/have photo taken nowadays, I could do my own makeup. I was even up for a national campaign, too, but I didn't get it. -Can't stop myself from perusing the wares at nice jewelry stores. -I, too, have the sales gene, and can skillfully manipulate when the need arises. -I like daiquiris and pina coladas. I particularly like the little umbrella that sticks out the top. -I like to watch figure skating as much as I do hockey -I had a--how to put this delicately?---a reputation in college. And it didn't bother me one damn bit because I had a great time. -Guns scare the crap out of me. -I adore perfume. And silk and cashmere. -I like (a little too much, I think)the looks I get from the husband and other men when I make the effort to get all dressed up/made-up. It's always a pleasurable thing to make a man's eyebrows hit his hairline. Also, I rarely mind a polite pinch on the bum, either. That should be MORE than enough

Posted by: Kathy at January 29, 2005 06:05 PM (sQLe5)

7 Thanks for playing, y'all. To borrow from Margi, I'd probably enjoy having lunch with all of you!

Posted by: RP at January 31, 2005 09:39 AM (LlPKh)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

I could not believe how many talented people were born today:

*1756 Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Need we say more?

*1832 Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, author of Alice in Wonderland as Lewis Carroll

*1834 Dmitri Mendeleev chemist who discovered the periodic table of the elements

*1872 The Hon. Learned Hand, Albany NY, Chief Judge (US Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit)

*1885 Jerome Kern, composer of Showboat, among other productions

*1900 Admiral Hyman G Rickover, USN, considered the father of the modern nuclear navy

Posted by: Random Penseur at 05:06 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 94 words, total size 1 kb.

My mother takes the grand children out for lunch once a week. Sometimes the lunch is held at my mother's house, sometimes she comes over to our house, and sometimes they all go out. Yesterday, they went out. I am informed that the following conversation took place between Nana and the GC:

Nana: I hear that you're doing a lot of painting these days.

GC: Yes.

Nana: Will you paint me some new pictures I can put on my fridge?

GC: What's wrong with the old ones? You don't like them?

Damn. I just wish I had been there to see my mother's face. It would have been priceless.

Heh.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:51 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 122 words, total size 1 kb.

1 Cute as a button and sharp as a tack. Watch out for that one, RP!

Posted by: Jim at January 27, 2005 04:17 PM (tyQ8y)

2 Yep...you can tell she's already got Daddy wrapped around her little finger.

Posted by: C at January 27, 2005 06:23 PM (0yCni)

3 She always makes me smile! So did grandma get any new pictures?

Posted by: Rachel Ann at January 28, 2005 03:05 AM (Gf7BP)

4 Grandma did not get any new pictures, once GC was satisfied that the old pictures were still doing the trick.

Posted by: RP at January 28, 2005 08:14 AM (LlPKh)

5 A pragmatic one, that GC.

Posted by: GrammarQueen at January 28, 2005 05:03 PM (glf8i)

6 *Amber bursts out laughing* That's hysterical, Random!

Posted by: Amber at January 28, 2005 08:11 PM (zQE5D)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

The Dutch kind of crack me up. My dad sent me this article about a bank robber in Holland who was permitted by the Court, with the encouragement of the prosecution, to deduct from the amount of restitution he had to pay to the vicitm of his crime, the cost of the handgun used in the commission of that crime because it was a "legitimate business expense". Ok, sit back down now. Really, its true.

And the prosecution had this to say:

"You can compare criminal acts to normal business activities, where you must invest to make profits, and thus you have costs," explained Leendert de Lange, a spokesman for the national prosecutor's office.

De Lange went further to state that drug dealers could also deduct the cost of vehicles used to make deliveries of illicit substances — within reason.

Asked whether a very successful drug kingpin could cite the cost of a Ferrari, de Lange replied: "No, he would have to prove that he needed the car to transport the drugs around, and I hardly think he would transport them in a Ferrari."

No word on the logical question of whether the gun was deducted at full cost or whether the bank robber had to eat the depreciation. Also, how did he treat it on his tax return?

Seriously, can you believe this?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:41 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 248 words, total size 1 kb.

Philip Johnson, age 93, has died today.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:14 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 13 words, total size 1 kb.

Seriously. You know that you should consider applying for federal emergency disaster relief for your desk when the only way you can find your cell phone is to engage in autotelephonation and then it still takes you what feels like 5 minutes to find it buried in the mounds of paper on your desk.

Actually, I think I just saw the Governor go by in a helicopter as he came to inspect the disaster that is my desk.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:53 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 102 words, total size 1 kb.

1 You actually put your phone down? Seriously? Mine is always in my hand. Always. Makes typing hard

Posted by: Helen at January 26, 2005 12:59 PM (uFX1z)

2 When it came time to choose which kind of computer I wanted the school I work for to provide, I should have asked for a Dell rather than a Mac (the choice compatable with the majority of the people I work with). If I had gotten a Dell, that powedery black finish would have shown up so much better in th eblizzard of white paper on my desk. I brought a pile of papers home with me one night, and didn't realize my computer was in among them.

Posted by: Mandalei at January 26, 2005 03:22 PM (LcyhB)

3 sometimes it is just better to sweep it all off into the trash and start over (if only we could)

Posted by: standing naked at January 27, 2005 05:40 AM (IAJcf)

4 Autotelephonation, eh? Is that legal?

Posted by: GrammarQueen at January 27, 2005 02:53 PM (glf8i)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

Today's Time Suck of the Day is the site that answers the question, inter alia, of whatever happened to Pam Dawber? Or Jessica Hahn? Or Eddie the Eagle (where you learn that there was a song "featuring him apparently charting in Finland in the late 80's") You can see why, just from that small sample, this site gets the Time Suck of the Day nod.

Tell me, looking at that picture, don't you think Jessica had some breast work done? I mean, really.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:38 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 105 words, total size 1 kb.

Why? You ask. Because, sometimes, just sometimes, when you leave the house in the middle of a snow storm (small one, but still a storm), one neighbor will call your name and, when you turn around, will tell you that there are train wires down at the station, or so his wife has just heard on the radio, and there are no trains in or out of our station. So, as you stand there in the middle of the street thinking, "SHIT!!!", you then hear your kind neighbor say, "my wife is driving me to the next station up the line where I think that there are trains, wnat a lift?" And just like that, your day goes from disaster to SAVED, Hallelujah!

Thank you kind neighbor/benefactor!

We make it to the station where we then sprint over to the other platform on the New Haven bound side where the New York bound train is just pulling in. It is so crowded that I check every door for room, from the first door to the last door before finding just enough room to squeeze in and stand for the remainder of the journey. At least the guy next to me as reading something interesting, which I could read over his shoulder. Although he did read too slowly so I kept having to wait for him to catch up and turn the page.

Still, finally made it. I have no doubt that if I was not normally nice to my neighbors, I'd still be standing at my local train station waiting for the next train.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:30 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 280 words, total size 1 kb.

Today is Australia Day. Go wish Simon a happy Australia Day and buy an Aussie a beer!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:39 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 29 words, total size 1 kb.

Ok, as promised, the report. We had a great time. As per my suspicion, the service you get when the guest of a native speaker of the native langauge of the wait staff is better. Putting to one side the issue of whether the majority of the kitchen staff at the Turkish Kitchen is actually Turkish or, more likely, some very smart guys from Mexico and Guatemala, we ate very well.

We sat down and immidiately had some raki. As described below, raki, when you get the good stuff and not the stuff somebody just brewed up in their garage, is fantastic. It helps if you like the taste of licorice, though, which I do. After the raki was poured, and after a thoughtful consultation between our hosts and the waitress, the food started coming. And coming. And coming. I don't know that I can remember it all, but it included: Shepard's Salad (which I don't eat as I loathe cucumbers); stuffed grape leaves; fried phylo dough stuffed with some kind of yummy cheese; octupus salad; a feta-like cheese; smoked and pureed eggplant; ezme (tomatoes and onion and other things, whirred together); lamb sausages; pita bread; and, mucver (yummy fried zuccini pancakes). I seriously think I may have left something off the list but I cannot remember what it is. All of this was great with the raki.

With the meze out of the way, we got down to some more serious eating.

I think that our hosts were surprised by our knowledge of Turkish food in general and thought that we chose our main courses well. My wife and I and one of our hosts, had grilled lamb sliced thinly from an upright spit and served over smoked eggplant puree. I think that the eggplant is called hunkar and here is a good looking recipe for it. The other person in our party had manti, those lovely little dumplings in a yogurt sauce. We drank a bottle of Turkish wine which was quite good, but a little thin, maybe, unlike any of us after we rolled out of the restaurant.

Dessert was actually attempted by the women in the group, thus proving that woman are the stronger sex. Or more prone to eating disorders. Whichever. They had stuffed apricots and some honey, walnut pastry, the name of which escapes me. The restaurant also brought us a plate of beautifully cut fruit. Our friends tell us that this is standard practice on Turkey but we had never experienced this before. It was, I thought, a reflection on the amount of money our hosts may have spent, but that just may be a typical NY cynisism coming to the fore.

Either way, it was a lovely meal with great company. Time flew by and before we knew it, two and half hours had elapsed.

I love Turkish food and my experiences in Turkish restaurants has always been good. There was one around the corner from our apartment when we lived on the Upper East Side and only had one child. We used to go there regularly and when we did, we would go early with the baby. We would sit down and not really see the baby much until we were ready to leave because there was always one or two young women working as waitresses who would grab the baby to play with as soon as we sat down. It was just so friendly. I sure do miss that place.

PS: WordPerfect must be broken. It has not identified one single spelling error in the above post. That is not possible.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:11 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 605 words, total size 3 kb.

Friday night was a lot of fun. I will deliver a full report later. I got to work late today due to a physical and am struggling to catch up. The news from the doctor, while still awaiting the results of the blood tests, was good. My blood pressure is now 120/78, which she thought was very good. Beats me. I'm happy if she's happy, you know?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:04 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
Post contains 79 words, total size 1 kb.

We are dining tonight with some friends in the City, NYC, that is. The friends are Turkish and we are being taken to a Turkish restaurant. I happen to love Turkish food so I'm kind of looking forward to it.

I also happen to like going to ethnic restaurants with representatives of that ethnicity. You eat differently, I believe. You see that in Chinese or other Asian restaurants. Some things are just not meant to be eaten by the Gringo, or so the waiter or manager believes. And the tables around you get things brought to them that you cannot identify but which smell good and look, well, somewhere between yummy and interesting. You can try to remonstrate with the waiter and even try to break out a little phrase book to help communicate that you must, under doctor's order, have a portion of the scallop udder that the table next to you is having, and you want it steamed with chili sauce and then fried, just like them, but they never believe you. Sometimes, they may be doing you a favor but you resent the inherent paternalism just the same.

But, back to the Turkish place. I suspect we will eat things I've never seen before and I know that we will get better service than we usually do. The restaurant is reputed to be the finest Turkish restaurant in the City and our friends are probably regulars.

I am excited.

I am also aprehensive. Do you know why? Have you ever heard of Raki? No? I have. *Exagerated, but not without good reason, shudder* Raki is distilled.

Raki was first produced from the residue of grapes left over from wine making. When a shortage of residue started, spirits from abroad were imported and processed with aniseed. This went on till the First World War when, for want of raw materials raisins were used in the production of raki and sometimes even dried figs and mulberries. For good quality raki, seedless raisins and aniseed in Cesme (Izmir) were preferred. As the raki industry developed, aniseed agriculture grew and developed with it. When alcoholic beverages were prohibited at one time, underhand producers lost no time in taking steps. The administrative authorities, especially in small towns, turned a blind eye to the illegal production of raki so long as it was made in accordance with the technical rules. In many houses meat grinders were used for mincing the raisin, large basins formerly used for daily washing were now used for fermenting the grapes and oil cans were converted into distilling apparatus. The raki which was usually without aniseed and which often contained materials harmful to health were distributed to by children, in the evenings, when the streets were no longer crowded.

Today in Istanbul, drinking raki has its own traditional rituals. Most important is what it is to be partaken with. White cheese is the main and unchangeable "meze" of raki. Raki is usually drunk with cold dishes like tomatoes, cucumber, lettuce and seafood. Fish is also a favorite, especially mullet and mackerel. Due to the aniseed it contains, raki changes color and becomes a milky white when water is added and a glass of pure water to go with it gives a distinct pleasant taste.

Source.

Distinct pleasant taste until it knocks you on your ass and makes you its bitch. That's what it should have said there.

Raki is an important part of Turkish dining. I suspect that it will play a role in tonight's dinner. This is why I booked a car service to drive us home and why I am front loading on the water, now.

It is going to be a long night, filled with food I may not be able to recognize, drink which has already declared me a hostile combatant, and sub-arctic temperatures outside.

I can't wait! Have a great weekend, y'all!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 05:32 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 670 words, total size 4 kb.

I have been too busy today to pay any attention to the swearing in down in D.C. Fortunately, Mark, over at Irish Elk, has put together a great re-cap with a look back at some memorable and some not-so-memorable Presidential speeches. Go check out the Mencken quote. Hilarious.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 06:29 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 52 words, total size 1 kb.

I have a bunch, well, a small bunch of things I have been thinking about, none of which rise to the level of a full post and I've decided to simply let them all out here, for better or worse:

* Who would have thought that sometimes a broom is better for getting snow off of your sidewalk than a shovel? Came as a pleasant surprise to me. Much less effort and a much cleaner sidewalk. It snowed last night and I was out there at 5:45 this morning getting it all clean for the day.

* How come, when it gets really cold and you're waiting for the train, the cold starts licking at your feet with the big toes first?

* Running committees for non-profits is like herding cats. I am now heading up three different, major, committees for three different non-profits and I am astounded, sometimes, that I have any time for my paying job.

* The State of NY is perilously close to overtaking the Great State of Louisiana in my mind for Most Dysfunctional State Government. I am seriously contemplating fleeing to Connecticut where, at least, taxes are so much lower and, Greenwich aside, I can get a lot more house/land for the money. Something to think about.

* The Girl Child goes today for her annual tune up and oil change -- the birthday check up. That reminds me, time to get a physical for myself.

* Ok, physical now scheduled for next Monday. Why is it, that whenever I make an appointment for a physical, I immediately want to start watching what I'm eating? Like its going to make a difference now.

* Attending nursery school "pyjama party" for a picnic and sing-along is a divine way to spend the evening. Is there any better smell in the whole world than an almost two year old boy's hair which still smells from last night's Johnson's Baby Shampoo as the little one sits on your lap during the songs and you bury your nose in his hair? Anything better? Not really.

* Sitting cross legged on the floor for a half an hour reminds me that I ain't as young as I used to be. Ridiculous, isn't it? On so many levels.

* I really need to do something about the damn banner, or lack thereof, on this site.

* I am quietly pining for Summer, for the beach, for the wind on the bare chest on the beach, for chasing kids in the sand, for cocktails next to the water, for sand in the car and not under the car on the roads, and for just a longer day between sunrise and sunset. This surprises me since I've always loved Winter. I have no guesses as to why this is.

* The February social commitments list is getting longer and longer and I'm feeling like I'm falling farther and farther behind. What else is new?

* Does anyone really think that because they send me an email with an attachment and the re line reading either, "Your Bill", "Your Document", or your "Account Statement", I'm just going to open it? Please.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:01 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
Post contains 534 words, total size 3 kb.

1 My favorite is "You've won!" I never open them, just bask in the illusion for the 1.2 seconds it takes to delete it

Posted by: Elizabeth at January 21, 2005 01:39 AM (eDdcE)

2 brooms - also very good for brushing off a very big truck...when you are 5 ft 2.

Posted by: standing naked at January 21, 2005 06:17 AM (IAJcf)

3 Despite being a huge New York supremacists, I've often pondered the prospects of Fairfield County and western Connecticut as well. And if you get bored, you could always join the Governor's Foot Guard. (1st Coy.: http://www.governorsfootguard.com/, 2nd Coy.: http://www.footguard.org/).

Posted by: Andrew Cusack at January 21, 2005 01:52 PM (xuV6d)

4 Aah, Connecticut: Where the smart New Yorkers live! Welcome to the neighborhood?

Posted by: Tuning Spork at January 23, 2005 11:26 PM (L9A/j)

5 Great post.

Posted by: Jester at January 27, 2005 12:49 AM (yS8Mo)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

Here's the call you hate getting from a client at any time of the day, really, but particularly first thing in the morning:

Guess what? I've just been made the subject of a Federal indictment. What are we gonna do?

One of my colleagues just got that call, now.

Oh, joy.

[cynicism]You really hate it when that happens to a client who has been sooo good about paying his or her bills.[/cynicism]

In all seriousness, I'm truly bummed. I like this guy a lot, actually.

UPDATE

Actually, the call came from the client's wife to say that her husband had just been taken away, in handcuffs, by six Federal agents.

No word on whether the agents were singing: "Bad boy, bad boy, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do when they come for you. . ." Seemed tacky to ask her, really.

Federal indictments suck.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:42 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
Post contains 162 words, total size 1 kb.