The Last Piece with Peanut Butter

 For almost all of my workaday life, I have been, nearly without exception, almost gonna be late. 

Almost gonna be late is a state of mild, yet steadily increasing panic that permeates every single morning before work for a person with my condition whereby you wake up feeling like it might be just a little later than you had intended to awaken and therefore may have to hurry a bit this morning, and then steadily, at each stage where you check the time you’re somehow a little bit later until you leave the house (first having to move your wife’s {who is btw blissfully still fast asleep upstairs} car into the street making you oh just that tad later) and start driving and realize that even if the streets are entirely empty due to some unrealized apocalypse and every light turns in your favor, you will only be 7 minutes late, and 7 is less than half of 15, so you can still count it as starting at 8, rather than 8:15. This all occurs only to realize upon arrival that nobody cares or pays attention at all to your comings and goings. 

For a prodigious sleepy-head, I have had some obscenely early staring times at my jobs over the years. I had to get to the library at MCC by 7am (I think my start time was actually 6:30, but the library itself opened at 7, so if I wasn’t there by then I was officially failing the public), and I think the Deli at Lake Lawn opened as well at 7am (again, I think I was supposed to get there earlier, but as long as I was there a few minutes prior would give the coffee time to brew I never got found out). Paint crew started at 6am (but had the advantage of literally waking 5 minutes before you started, blundering there, and then finding a room far from where Bob Sheets was working where you could sit on the floor and sleep for a couple hours, pretending like you were working on “the bottom of the wall”). 

Even after my rise into middle management (prior to my precipitous and predictable fall), when I was by no means punching a clock or needing to be anywhere by an absolute time*, I not infrequently grabbed the 6am Southwest flight to La Guardia or the 6am Hiawatha train to Chicago (both of which had me walking into the relative hearts of each of those cities at right around 9:30am local time). 

All of this is to say, that once in a great while (and today was one of those rare onces), I find my self awake and refreshed before my alarm is set to go off, and going through my morning steps discovering that today I might be running just a little bit ahead for a change, and might just have a bit of extra time for something (maybe a little reading, a toss with my dog, or in today’s case a {very slightly} leisurely breakfast). Today I had the time to make myself some toast and use up most of the last of the peanut butter jar thereon. (I’m delighted to discover that I’m not the first person to consider this issue

source: huffPo.com

!)

Scraping out (most of) the last of the peanut butter jar is an art and a skill that I have mastered over the years. It takes time and patience, and starts with assessing correctly that you have the appropriate amount of PB remaining in the jar: too much, and you may need to have another piece of toast (plus, you’ll have scraped for nothing!); too little and the last piece of toast (AHH!!…) with peanut butter will likely be quite disappointing or needing something else to cover over some of the gaps. 

Once you decide to take on this rewarding task, I like to start at the center bottom of the jar, and scrape out to the edges.  Don’t worry so much about getting volume on your knife at this stage, your more just trying to get enough together around the bottom circumference of the jar to get one or two small glomps^ of PB on your toast before you begin the orbital scraping process that should satisfy to fill in most of the gaps on your toast between glomps. For orbital scraping, begin at the top, and with your knife mostly vertical, scrape around the inside, where the grooves for the lid are. This should yield you a fairly good crop of filler creamy PB. Next, repeat but just below that first lip of the inside of the jar. This will likely be your most productive line of filler, so be sure to go all the way around. Continue thusly on down the jar until you have a satisfying piece of PB toast in front of you, and congrats!, you’ve (mostly) used up the peanut butter jar. 

Enjoy!!

* I am talking here start time or departure time from home in the morning, not for any other meetings or appointments throughout the day. For those, for me, time is sacrosanct and I am on time (or 3-5 minutes early for a meeting off site), every time. 

^ Glomp is the standard unit of measurement of peanut butter as recognized by the Seeger Science Ministry (SSM) with one standard issue piece if toast taking 3 to 4 glomps for full coverage. 

A steady diet of red round things...

 

A pre-lunch snack (or perhaps it's elevensies), I have started in on Rage, which I am not sure I have ever read after first reading The Running Man a couple of weeks ago (again, a first for me, I think) so I could listen to the corresponding episode of my new favorite podcast, The Kingcast: A Stephen King Podcast for Stephen King Obsessives (their patreon page).  I've listened to half a dozen of the episodes so far, and really enjoy the fact that I may have found a couple of people who are as deeply enmeshed in King's oeuvre (and especially The Dark Tower stuff) as I am...  Almost.

Overall, not terribly inspiring... some radishes from Sendik's and some not-so-thrilling cherry tomatoes from the South Shore Farmer's Market.  Filtered Milwaukee tap water and a few chapters of Richard Bachman.

I've actually been on something of a Stephen King bender as of late (these are different than SK's benders from the old days), having finished his latest book of novellas, If It Bleeds, just this morning.  (This is actually how I usually read Stephen King, all at once for a few weeks or months, and then I leave it alone for a couple years while he builds up a new arsenal).

It got me wondering about his "Books of Four" habit (collections of 4 long short stories and/or 4 short novels/novellas/novelettes), but he really only has 3 of them now (or 4 if you count The Bachman Books), so perhaps it's not actually a pattern... Yet.

Jalapeño Serioso

We ate last night (for about the 500th time) at Jalapeño Loco - hands down the best Mexican restaurant in Milwaukee.  Just north of the airport (5067 S. Howell Avenue), it looks from the street like a place you'd pass by, but inside it's cozy, particularly on the bar side (best option if you're two or one is the bar, which is friendly and plenty of space for food).

Order the High Taste Margarita while you consider your menu options.  It is a superior concoction made with the Sauza Conmemorativo.  The house and gold versions are fine - and there are flavors if that's your speed, but if you don't go high taste you're selling yourself short. 

The reason there are so few great Mexican restaurants is finding a balance of a great margarita with exceptional authentic food.  Jalapeño Loco (or "Jalapanoes" {hard 'J'} as my in-laws fondly refer to it) specializes in Oaxacan cuisine, and dabble in a number of other regions of Mexico.  You really can't go wrong on their menu, although their moles are quite special and not to be missed.  The weekly specials are also generally quite good, and we frequently visit and only stay on this ever-changing list.  Last night, it was the Chalupas appetizer and Pollo Estofado and a few High Taste Margaritas. 

As we were entering last night, we were bemoaning the fact that Milwaukee doesn't have any truly upscale Mexican places, which are coming into favor in larger metros.  So we propose a new restaurant in Milwaukee - in the same vein as Jalapeño Loco (perhaps even with the exact same menu!).  I think we should call it Jalapeño Serioso, and it should probably find a location in the 3rd Ward/5th Ward fluidity.  A lofty, industrial space - if Hugo and Janet want to start it, that would be awesome (!), but if they don't want to, that's okay... your spot is a favorite already. 

But i duly submit this as a brilliant idea...

SFSE

In The Chronicles of Amber, characters eat, drink, sleep, and sex more narratively thank is typical in other epic fantasies I know (perhaps the Gunslinger is an exception to this this).

Gets me thinking about our own SFSE project - I think the intro, and part of the goal will be to outline be challenge in coupling (and ultimately procreating), where your natural inclinations (I'm hungry now, tired now, etc.) get alters and affected by the needs of others. 

We label this civilization, and my writing this would cause my partner to lambast the "selfish male tendencies in me".  I think, thought, that this is just another, subtler manifestation of Social Taylorism, and why hetero-normative coupling is good for capitalism and systems of control. 

The fantasy novel that depicts a hero wandering (alone or together), and eating when he/she is hungry, sleeping, etc. is a challeng e to this (but an escapist one)


*   *   *

February 2020
So, firstly, it seems clear that I was drunk while writing this...  But it still seems to make good sense to me, and I like it.

Shitting, Fucking, Sleeping, Eating (SFSE) is a book project i have proposed over the course of the past decade (several years still before this post).  I haven't worked on it enough, and felt it was a project that should be co-written by a large team.  It's a book about intimate living (in fact, i thought the title might be SFSE: A Guide to Intimate Living).  An advice book that ideally the wacky aunt would give to newlyweds, i imagined a PR blitz - moral outrage, anger at swears and a complication of what we think of as a "standard" life.

Unfortunately, our current era has become too profane, too crass, for this book to make a dent.  We are living in the obscenity not only of the Trump era, but the obscenity of massive wealth and middle class decimation.  But maybe - there is still something to be said for finding better and better ways to coexist, both in our individual homes and in the larger world...

Love li'l sandwiches

I love cucumber sandwiches. Saturday I picked up a few weird little cukes (one was called 'lemon' - I don't recall the name of the other one). Some thin-sliced radish, smoked salmon straight from Alaska (thanks in-laws)...

Oh, 1Q84, great book. Also, a celebratory vodka martini in honor of understanding and curing Rex Grossman's summer long meh-ness.  

Emotion, Elasticity and Paucity

The last 45 minutes has been personally significant. I came home from work (which evidently is a bastion of out-of-the-loop-ed-ness and "what was that?"), fixed a snack (crackers and cheese) and a cocktail (The Fifty-Fifty Cocktail, from The Savoy Cocktail Book) and turned on a rerun of The Daily Show, as I am wont to do.

It was the May 3rd episode, featuring an interview with Peter Bergen, recent author of the book Manhunt: The Ten Year Search for Bin Laden From 9/11 to Abottabad.  As I sat and watched, I was in a pretty good mood - as I always am.  Jon Stewart is (no matter what he says about it) the foremost voice of critique of the 24-hour cable news culture in America.  Bergen, who is doubtless the most well-informed person outside of the current administration about the killing of Usama Bin Laden, pretty clearly stated that...

***

Update: 1/10/13 - I have no idea what the Bergen interview clearly stated, but here - you should watch it, because i trust my then-self:

!!!!

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Peter Bergen
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In a Sunburned Land

Hello faithful readers!

I am arrived in Miami, living in a condo near Florida International University where I am spending the next 6 weeks studying Haitian Creole.


*   *   *


February 2019
Wow, i seemed so positive and upbeat at the outset here.

On my first night in Miami, i broke the bed.  I was sub-renting an apartment off West Flagler Street near 97th, and staying inamongst the stuff of a Chinese professor who'd left for the summer.  It was minimally furnished, and the bed was a cheaper-than-IKEA structure.  When i first lay down on the bed uncarefully, it cracked, but didn't break.  The rest of the summer i slept sorta spread-eagle hoping to balance the weight so it wouldn't fully collapse.

That summer i saw every movie in theatres.  I ate Papa John's pizza so often that the crew knew me by name.  I ate at Denny's, because they had free wifi.  I had Netflix DVDs delivered to me in Miami nearly every day - because i was on a 3-Disc plan and i was finishing one or more almost every day.  I took the bus (and waited for the bus in the heat, my god, the heat) and got a used bike cheap, which i eventually abandoned for broken next to a gas station. 

But i didn't know all of this when i started this post.  I spent a summer learning Haitian Creole - and learned it well.  To this day i can read and write and understand and speak Haitian.  On my return to Milwaukee, i was asked to return to Mahler, almost magically, and things began, slowly, to turn around.

This was an important summer in my life i think - i still think.  I wrote my dissertation in my head over the course of this summer.  It's every bit as good as it was when i first came across it in the ether.

FICFs

Last Wednesday afternoon i attended my first ever Cubs game at Wrigley Field. Having recently developed a keen hatred for the Cubs & Cubs fans (where before there was a deep, abulic indifference), i thought the event might be uncomfortable, awkward, or even dangerous (though, less so once i decided not to wear my shiny new Prince Fielder t-shirt).

They were playing the Houston Astros, in a rubber game on a beautiful Wednesday afternoon. We got to the stadium just before first pitch & grabbed snacks & beers on the way to our seats. I'd heard the food at Wrigley was simply abysmal and the "brat" i was served definitely backed that up. On the upside, they had Old Style available at about half of the concession stands.

We got to our seats, which were the cheapest we'd found on stubHub & were impressed to find we were very close to the field along the left field line (near the foul pole). Alfonso Soriano (literally "big jerk") was close by when the Cubs were in the field and he joked back & forth with the Bleacher Bums (at one point after Fonzo had misplayed a fly ball, they pointed to Right Fielder Fukudome's snazzy catch as an example of something he might try).

Our seat-neighbors were cordial for the most part, decidedly un-Chicagoan. Then the 3rd inning started. The Astros took a 4-1 lead, scoring the last 3 on a home run by Carlos Lee (el Caballo, literally "Carlos Lee"). Actually you can find the entire game, obsessively blogged by some guy listening to the radio broadcast. Down 4-1 the fans starting turning. They became the cynical, slightly jerky (but still harmless) Cub fans i've come to know...

At that point, Nathan & i decided to get out of the sun, stretch our legs, and see the stadium sites. We wandered back around the stadium and walked through some better infield sections. It's amazing how close to the action you feel at any of the lower deck sections at Wrigley. It's also astounding to think how long people have been walking these same sections - Wrigley is a really old (at least relatively) feeling place to see a sporting event (i suppose the Colosseum in Rome might put this into perspective, but still).

As we were headed back we were accosted by a guy trying to get us to sign up for credit cards (or checking accounts) in order to get a free t-shirt. Nathan quizzed the guy about damaging his credit score by running a credit check, but the guy assured us that as long as you don't do it all the time you had nothing to worry about... We (surprisingly) declined the offer, but as we were finishing up a conversation with him the Cubs hit a grand slam.

We continued back toward our seats, but it suddenly came to us that the reason our food might have sucked was due to the wrong type of food... In Milwaukee, you order a brat at the game, in Chicago, a Chicago style dog. We grabbed dogs & more beer (loading up with hot peppers & a frighteningly green relish) and headed back to our seats. While we were in our respective lines, the Cubs scored 4 more runs for an 8-run bottom of the 3rd. We got back in time to watch Theriot ground out to end the inning.

The fans in our section were in high spirits by the time we came back.

"Did we miss anything?" we asked.

"Nooo. Nothing, you didn't miss anything. Though, if the Astros start scoring again, you're going to have to leave again," They replied.

In fact, somehow, the fans, not just the game, were extremely enjoyable. At the end of the game, winning soundly, fans were in good spirits. DoucheBag Cubs fans & Drunk Bleacher Girls were cultivating meaningful relationships in the last couple of innings... Singing "Take Me Out To the Ballgame" at Wrigley was something special, even if it was Ron Santo singing... Then they sing some "go cubs go" song when they win...

Overall, i was actually somewhat disappointed by how accommodating & not-overly-douchey the Cubs fans were... And while everyone was laughinghavingagoodtime and singing their songs, i actually saw what might drive someone to being a Cubs fan. There's a good-timie-ness to it that is almost unavoidable. By the end of the game, i was even cheering for the Cubs and i'm a fucking Brewers fan.

I mean, i still hate the Cubs & hate Cubs fans when they come to Milwaukee, for sure, but Wrigley... actually kinda cool.
thanks, gilk, for getting me to wrigley, finally.

oh-oh-oh Laughing By Myse-elf

Reading David Sedaris in a public place is never a very good idea...



This i discovered today, first as i was eating lunch in the cafeteria and later, more conclusively, when i was in the CyberCafe/Lobby area. I'm reading Sedaris' newest book of essays, When you are Engulfed in Flames, and it's good, though not as laughOUTloud funny as his previous offerings. I've been alternating back and forth between it & The Amber Spyglass, by Philip Pullman the last few weeks at lunch. I generally eat alone here at Northwestern Mutual and, having learned my lesson from miron, i place a napkin on my lap before eating & reading...



Today i was eating a salmon cake

*** 6 December 2009 ***

Unfortunately, I don't recall what happened with the salmon cake. I'm sure it was really important and rife with significance, but alas, it's lost to obscurity...

Sticks in my Cray...

Crayfish or Crawfish...

Last night we went to Barnacle Buds for just the second time for their 1st annual Crawfish Boil. It was quite an experience, though not all that we'd hoped... It was cold & windy outside, so we ate inside...

I don't know if you've ever been to a Crayfish Boil (maybe i'm way behind here), but the setup was... unexpected. When it "boiled over" they dumped it all (a mix of Crawfish, Corn on the Cob, Red Potatoes, Carrots, Garlic Cloves, & Andouille Sausage) along a table covered in newspaper & sort of said 'have at it'. All they had were a few rolls of paper towels & we were a bit confused. One guy quickly went over how to eat (or access) a Crayfish, which i only partially got so it's very likely i was eating Crawfish brains & poop, but naja, new experiences and all...

I wished we'd had an expert (i'm looking at you, dave yost) to help us along with the eating & the entire process... & if it had been nicer out i think part of the point is that you all just stand around the table eating and chucking shells away. We were angesprochen several times by a guy (who i think may have been Barnacle Bud) who looked like a cross between Santa Claus & the Gorton's Fish Stick Fisherman Guy (who i'm convinced may be the same person, just in different seasons)

**Note: Loyal reader(s) may have noted the increased usage of full names the last couple of posts... This is a throwback to an earlier idea i'd had about an occasional Membership Drive segment for Roman Numeral J, but just a lazier version... in hopes that people still google themselves (do they? I know i do from time to time...) Anyway, if you've found your name here and would like it removed let me know and i will give you a codename like Kojak or Kojak2

how d'you like them apples...

It occurred to me today as i was leaving work and polishing an apple on my shoulder that i look pretty damn good eating an apple. I came up with a theory when i was living in Münster that if nothing else, i look good eating apples, so i ate apples all the time. There's something to the way i bite with a bit of reckless abandon, but without the Roman-esque excesses of juices dripping down my chin...

When i'm not biting, i hold the apple well, slightly daintily at the ends of the core, but without seeming overly concerned with getting my hands a bit sticky... My arms swing freely, if a bit away from my body (think Brody Peed walking down the halls of Clinton High School, but without the muscles). I've gotten pretty good at walking while eating an apple, i can usually time finishing the apple pretty well with my arrival at a garbage can...

I can even, truly, finish an apple... not in the Teutonic sense, perhaps, where you eat ALL of the apple, stem, core & seeds, but all the way around, then to the top & bottom, getting almost of meat off of it...

So what i really want to know is, what is it that you look really good doing? Dancing in the club ( deine Bewegungen gefählen mir), doing shots, or smoking (i look a lot like John McClane when i smoke, taking entire cigarettes in in just a couple inhalations)... So tell me, in an effort of supporting and promoting self-confidence & positive self image (not in the blow smoke up their ass sense, but for real, quality things that don't generally get noticed).

Dinn-Arr

Last night we had dinner at the latest addition to the Tippecanoe neighborhood, Shiver Me Timbers, a new restaurant specializing in American-Pirate Fusion... That's right, a Pirate restaurant right here in Milwaukee (which clearly has a long, prestigious pirate history).

I think (it was hard to tell, because their stories seemed to keep changing) last night may have been the first night they were serving food... Our reactions were mixed. A lot of first week kinks still to work out... Only about a third of the menu was up and running, the bar was a bit sparse, and they hadn't fully figured out their feel...

First-off, this place needs to get some pirate drinks. I inquired after juices and the only ones they had were cranberry, orange, and pineapple, which is pretty standard for most bars, but a Pirate bar??? Don't you think you need something more exotic? I mean, a minute and a half of internet research produced a list of pirate drinks... Additionally, splash some Welch's passion fruit juice onto some white rum makes a tasty instant pirate cockt-arr-l.

This place didn't even have rum... I ordered a second-rate pirate drink, but they only had Malibu or Captain Morgan Spiced Rum... I mean, if you're opening a pirate restaurant (which is awesome, by the way, and we totally have to open one in Decorah) you better have a damn impressive rum list.

On the other hand, i ordered the Pecan Red Snapper, and it was hands down, the best red snapper i've had in my life. The chef came out to apologize for a slight delay in getting our meals and was concerned about the dish, but i think it was fantastic... Brooke's goat cheese/smoked salmon salad was adequate, but nothing special & brig's chicken was ok, but the fish, my god the fish...

As a self-proclaimed great orderer, my two rules are 1) order the special & 2) what does this place seem like they should know? order that. And pirates ought to know fish. And these pirates did..., though they didn't know rum... yet.

i ate a grapefruit today

It'd seriously been like two years since i last had one. And man, i love them. I'll probably start eating them all the time now. I not only love the taste , i love the experience. The cutting in half, looking inside, figuring out the best way to scoop out the fruit bits. Should i put sugar on it (NAY!) or salt (wha?)? Should i eat just a half, or the whole thing? I love re-experiencing things i loved long ago (& wrote a terrible poem about the experience in "Intro to Creative Writing", which i might subject you to some day)...

So, i had an idea...

It's time for the first ever Roman Numeral J user poll... Perhaps in future user polls i'll figure out how to put a little image down there where people can vote and see the results (but that necessarily limits responses to whatever i thought of at the time), but for this poll just tell us in the comments section...

Poll Question #1

What is something that you really love to do (or loved to do) or just love... that you haven't done/had/experienced in years?

-sub question, go do/have/experience this thing again... and discuss the experience...

Totally stealing...

Because i think this idea is so ingenious i'm totally stealing it from Russell... Russell, thank you for your borrowed idea. If you want a better, originaler version of this idea, check it out on its original...

Because it's Thanksgiving & because i'm reading about postcolonialism, i figure the drink/eat/read photo will be a great addition to my blog... Thursdays, i'll say... i'll try to present a "snapshot" (by which i mean snapshot) of what is going on in my world... what i'm eating... what i'm drinking... what i'm reading.

And here's this week.

on the Pathologist to success...

It's been a lovely last several days... Since Saturday aftereve much has happened. We've not been without houseguests, we met the house we think we might LOVE, and we made an offer (and had said offer rejected) on said house.

Saturday we discovered a lovely 2-story colonial... that's just about perfect... and we think we'd like to buy it. Then, Saturday, andy flew in from Atlanta, after a conference presentation, and good times were had... Dinner at Lulu's, then some drinks at At Random... He stayed long enough to watch the Bears lose and for us to put an offer in on the house and headed to Clinton Monday morning... at which time, the wheels of houseguest fate spun joel miron in our direction. Miron is interviewing pathological programs for his residency coming up next year and one of his possibilities was here in the greater Milwaukee area.

We explored a bit of Milwaukee - drinking, seeing the lake on a cold, sleety, rainy afternoon, drinking old school cocktails (Bourbon Old Fashioned - Sour, Tom Collins, & a Harvey Wallbanger) at Comet Cafe, revelry, drinks at Paddy's, sleeping.

Our alleged new house is in the Tippacanoe neighborhood (seriously) of southern Milwaukee... Theme party's abound - then, it's also a two-story colonial, opening up even another realm... So, start your theme engines now... and get ready to visit real soon...

Searching for "yourself"

I have a friend, Ron, in the Program who has enjoyed, at times, playing this 'character' during the course of his life here at Milwaukee. The 'character' is a guy who has just discovered the Internet, is just finding all of these websites and who likes to share with other people his new discoveries: "I was at this website and any word i typed in, it would bring up, like, a million pictures of that thing, i mean, literally, a million, man, can you imagine?"

It's an amusing diversion, but it's recently gotten me thinking...am i still the only one whose sort of blown away by this whole internet thing? I mean this sort of seriously...i was googling myself the other day (does anybody else still do this? if not, don't worry, i've probably googled you recently, so i can tell you about yourself or others who share your same name) and first of all, i was appalled to find that google suggests that when you search "joel seeger" you might instead want to search for "joel siegel". This didn't use to happen, but now it's the first result. It kind of verärgers me.

I remember having a conversation with Dave Wake several years back after i'd met a cute girl at an emergency room... I'd googled her to figure out a little about her, which at the time i thought nothing of, but he informed me that "that's a little creepy." I wasn't convinced, but for the most part i desisted in looking up information on people unless i knew them fairly well, it would strategically help me for some reason (e.g. i'm going in for a job interview with them, or something), or i just really wanted to know more about them.

Anyway, i noticed in googling myself, that my Chips columns were still showing up, but no longer on anything resembling the Chips website. Some other site had co-opted them... When i went to investigate (to see if/who i could sue) they had some sort of disclaimer in their "About Us" section that the copyright for the intellectual content on the website is not theirs and their content is 'spidered' from other websites.

Not only am i continually overwhelmed by the sheer amount of 'information', but how much easier it is to maintain personal relationships with the internet. Before the internet, i would completely ignore my friends for months & years on end, miss their birthdays, steal their pants, i would have to make amends, apologize, or return their pants. Now, i can use the internet to find new friends... so much easier.

Occasionally, i enjoy typing in random words into google... Did you know, for instance, that if you search for "yourself" your first result is a site that tells you how to be yourself? Very useful information. Not only that, but the site that teaches you how to be yourself, wikiHow, can teach you how to do any number of useful things, like make deviled eggs. I love deviled eggs.

Roman Numeral J Greatest Hits: 7 May 2007 - 18 June 2007

Throughout most of the month+ prior to my previous post I had a lot of fine ideas for blog entries, but just never got around to blogging them... I'm sure many of you wasted precious moments checking the blog for updates and i want to try and make it up to you, Faithful Reader, by providing you with a sampling of discarded blog entry ideas, that never came to fruition. Enjoy!

I Would Like to Be a Sell-out
Over Memorial Day Weekend, brooke & i decided we needed to lighten our load before the move to Milwaukee and we had a neighborhood yard sale, at which we tried (and to a large extent succeeded) to sell off several of our large items and a good many small pieces of crap.
We advertised in the World Herald (and oddly enough got free Whopper coupons because of it) and people came from all over to view and haggle over our garbage.

At the time it occured to me that i was simultaneously selling a good many books and was pretty well willing to part with almost anything i own for the right price. I'm not into stuff... i'm just into money.

So, my idea was that i would try and market a sweet cruiser bike, a versatile glass-top desk, and some of my books on Amazon Marketplace in an attempt to make a little money off the blog...

Suddenly It's all Good

I meant for this post to be about how just as we were preparing to leave Omaha, everything about it seemed to be getting better and better.

The farmer's market produce was improving, getting better produce each week, the weather was lovely, the College World Series was just getting underway and Shakespeare on the Green was looming. At the same time, we were mentally preparing ourselves for taking what would likely be our last leave of Omaha by going to all the bars, restaurants, and events we'd always meant to get to, but somehow missed like Taste, Tanduri Fusion (which we highly recommend), and Omaha's most recent addition, The Slowdown.

The Slowdown is Saddle Creek's new facility and their grand opening featured a number of great hipster bands (Connor Oberst played a "secret" Thursday night pre-opening show). The place is fantastic, with a balcony, pit & ample seating both near and away from the music (so you can actually have a conversation while a bad band is playing...) Slowdown also features games to play, pool, and some of those sweet garage door-style windows for nice days and would be great for seeing a band at or just hanging out at. The crowd, at least those first two days, wasn't the typical Saddle Creekers, however, mostly, i think, because it was too clean and not enough of a dive...

The crowd was a mix of older folks who go to check out all the new "things & events" in Omaha and the exceedingly young variety of hipster who are convinced nobody who goes to Sokol drinks, they just go to dance... Then there was another type of person who i couldn't quite place... the sort of person who handed me this invite to a kegger, because he butted in fron tof me at the bar. But the music was fun, the lines were long, definitely cool stuff

Taste of Joel & Brooke

This was always going to be an ill-fated entry, but i had the idea to do a brief tour of all the food we'd had recently... Mostly at Taste of Omaha, which happened just before we left (see "Suddenly It's All Good"), Taste of Clinton (which featured somewhat less food and some last minute restaurant visits - really, it would have been a waste of your time, so it never materiealized.


Well, now you're all caught up with Roman Numeral J, thanks for riding along...

the Blind Rice Cooker

Within a period of 24-hours brooke & i have accrued two rice cookers where previously we had (and presumeable needed) none. I've never had a lot of trouble cooking rice, so when i learned we had accrued one at a garage sale i was skeptical. But when i saw it i was impressed. Produced by Sanyo (who incidentally also manufactured both of our cell phones), the rice cooker is a 50's-style retro design, though, i'm guessing it wasn't originally retro.

The other rice cooker we accrued was as a late wedding gift from my aunt & uncle. Made by Kitchen Gourmet, this rice cooker is retro more in the sat-in-my-basement for 10 years sort of way. Having decided that we definitely don't need 2 rice cookers (and likely don't need 1) the trick now is to figure out how to unload a rice cooker.

All in all i now have in my possession a lot of machines i never had before, and i think i was doing quite fine without them. I'm not sure exactly how this happened and haven't decided really how good or bad a thing it is...but it certainly is a thing.

A review of Food

Quite the Tuesday. After getting home late from barring around last night, i slept a bit late this morning, then headed to campus, leaving Nathan & Lissa to find their way downtown to hook up with Tritle, which they did fairly successfully. I had a blueberry muffin & coffee at the Classics Café. The coffee was desperately needed & the muffin was ok, but a bit crumbly. I really shoudn't get muffins. I don't eat them very attractively, i'm afraid.

I headed downtown to meet up with everyone & got to the basement restaurant they had lunch in just as they were finishing. After stops at Millennium Park (which i now appreciate as a pretty sweet thing - previous visits have all been in foul weather & therefore tainted) and the Art Institute of Chicago, we hit the 'Park Grill' near Millennium Park for a Heinekin and some chips & salsa (my favorite food, hands down). The salsa tasted a bit barbecue-y to me & had a very thick consitency. Strange stuff.

After that we headed to U.S. Cellular Field for the White Sox Game. They won handily, in a quick game. We got in on some successfully scalped tickets & i had a brat w/ sauerkraut. It was pretty decent, but nothing too special. I had been told by several Chicagoans that U.S. Cellular Field has some of the best stadium food in the country, but i would say it doesn't hold a candle to Miller Park... Not even close. I had a Sam Adams & then discovered with my Pretzel purchase (again, no Miller Park pretzel) that they had a vendor with PBR on tap. Which makes this stadium ok in my book.

The game was fun. Lot's of homeruns & a 'loud guy' (guess which one of those people is 'loud guy') pretty close to us who yelled at Frank Thomas a lot. Once again, no actual images of the game, because Nate's camera has a crazy big memory card that fits nowhere, but here is some evidence we were at the game, and here's some more... of my watch, Lissa's soda, and me looking at the card the photographer handed me that says how to find my picture. (You can buy a Joel & Lissa at the White Sox game t-shirt - Nate was getting cash & food). Oh, speaking of photographic evidence... there was a couple in front of us, who, when the photographer came around asking if people wanted their pictures taken, to put on the website, they were like "No, we can't be shown to be here..." then laughed & were hiding from the photographer as he took other people's pictures. I think they were illicitly coupling. Cool.