Saturday, October 22, 2011
Harvest
About a week before Corinna harvested a bushel of green tomatoes ahead of first frost, I managed to glean a few goodies from the garden. A disappointing year for some crops, especially tomatoes, but what we had was worth it.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Genius Bicycle Light
You can get some very bright LED flashlights for dirt cheap these days. I admired this guy's ingenuity, taking a cheapie flashlight, some tape, zip ties and a hose clamp. About a tenth the cost of even the famously inexpensive-but-bright Magic Shine.
I met the owner, he came out with his groceries while I was still loading mine on the bike. He's not a sport rider, just someone who decided he didn't want to spend a buck firing up his car to go three blocks to the Wal-Mart or five blocks to his job.
I met the owner, he came out with his groceries while I was still loading mine on the bike. He's not a sport rider, just someone who decided he didn't want to spend a buck firing up his car to go three blocks to the Wal-Mart or five blocks to his job.
I've Been Plagiarized
I spotted this headline today.
Without getting diatriabolical about people getting disability checks for bullshit disabilities, I just want to say that 'Disability Industrial Complex' is mine. I coined that. Senator Coburn used it without my permission, which I will sell for enough money to finish building out that Surly Long Haul Trucker and replace my stolen car with a used Scion xB.
Without getting diatriabolical about people getting disability checks for bullshit disabilities, I just want to say that 'Disability Industrial Complex' is mine. I coined that. Senator Coburn used it without my permission, which I will sell for enough money to finish building out that Surly Long Haul Trucker and replace my stolen car with a used Scion xB.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Hayride in Exurbia
Actually, I'm not sure the place qualifies as exurban: it's pretty much rural.
I've known a lot of people with the same dream, live 'in the country.' They may have a job on College Boulevard or even downtown, but they'll have mailing addresses in Paola, Kansas and Adrian, Missouri. Which isn't to say they actually live in those towns, they live on hobby farms or in a split-level plunked in the middle of a twenty acre lawn.
Then they commute. It was a revelation to Corinna the first morning she rode in a car with me on my morning commute. Here I was, getting on the interstate from the furthest southwest corner of Johnson County to head into the city for work, and there was all this traffic coming in from further south.
"Where do they come from?" she asked, half-astonished. I say half, because she knew the answer to that. Even lived that life briefly a few years ago.
The answer is they come from places like the one we went to the third annual hayride hosted by the woman who really got the special needs ministry at Heartland going.
I can see the appeal of living in such a place. It's beautiful. If I worked from home and didn't need to access the city apart from the occasional grocery run, I...could no way ever live out here.
Letting alone the fact that I hate riding on gravel roads, and living in the country would definitely lock me into that, I've felt far too isolated from cultural institutions, night life and entertainment living in Gardner, let alone way out in Miami County.
The only reason I moved to Gardner in the first place was I had a job there, and the job looked like a keeper. It was a great job for ten years, and nine of those years I enjoyed a commute so short I feel silly in hindsight for not cycling it more than a half dozen times. 2.4 miles, you can't even get sweaty on a hot day in that kind of distance. I could drive a jalopy and not care if the air conditioner or heater worked.
Or I could have gone it one better and gone car free.
Nothing against Gardner, it's a great place to raise kids. Phenomenal school district, low crime (when my friend in Chicago had her bike stolen from a fifth story stairwell I joked to her that I probably couldn't get my bike stolen from my driveway), and maybe the highest greasy spoon per capita count in 500 miles. As my friend (and mayor) puts it, 'a great place to live but I wouldn't want to visit there.'
I guess I'm kind of looking at the coin from the other side. While I enjoy visiting exurbia, and totally see why the people who sign up to drive 100 miles per day enlist in the gridlock marines, I wouldn't want to live that way. Too much time in the car, too much fretting over gas prices, and far too much wearing cars out.
I've known a lot of people with the same dream, live 'in the country.' They may have a job on College Boulevard or even downtown, but they'll have mailing addresses in Paola, Kansas and Adrian, Missouri. Which isn't to say they actually live in those towns, they live on hobby farms or in a split-level plunked in the middle of a twenty acre lawn.
Then they commute. It was a revelation to Corinna the first morning she rode in a car with me on my morning commute. Here I was, getting on the interstate from the furthest southwest corner of Johnson County to head into the city for work, and there was all this traffic coming in from further south.
"Where do they come from?" she asked, half-astonished. I say half, because she knew the answer to that. Even lived that life briefly a few years ago.
The answer is they come from places like the one we went to the third annual hayride hosted by the woman who really got the special needs ministry at Heartland going.
I can see the appeal of living in such a place. It's beautiful. If I worked from home and didn't need to access the city apart from the occasional grocery run, I...could no way ever live out here.
Letting alone the fact that I hate riding on gravel roads, and living in the country would definitely lock me into that, I've felt far too isolated from cultural institutions, night life and entertainment living in Gardner, let alone way out in Miami County.
The only reason I moved to Gardner in the first place was I had a job there, and the job looked like a keeper. It was a great job for ten years, and nine of those years I enjoyed a commute so short I feel silly in hindsight for not cycling it more than a half dozen times. 2.4 miles, you can't even get sweaty on a hot day in that kind of distance. I could drive a jalopy and not care if the air conditioner or heater worked.
Or I could have gone it one better and gone car free.
Nothing against Gardner, it's a great place to raise kids. Phenomenal school district, low crime (when my friend in Chicago had her bike stolen from a fifth story stairwell I joked to her that I probably couldn't get my bike stolen from my driveway), and maybe the highest greasy spoon per capita count in 500 miles. As my friend (and mayor) puts it, 'a great place to live but I wouldn't want to visit there.'
I guess I'm kind of looking at the coin from the other side. While I enjoy visiting exurbia, and totally see why the people who sign up to drive 100 miles per day enlist in the gridlock marines, I wouldn't want to live that way. Too much time in the car, too much fretting over gas prices, and far too much wearing cars out.
Barrels
In front of the Firehouse Gallery, which is housed in a former firehouse, appropriately enough. While I was shooting this, I noticed firefighters smoking in front of the new firehouse just up the street.
The new firehouse may have more garage space or whatever, but it sure lacks the character of the old one.
The new firehouse may have more garage space or whatever, but it sure lacks the character of the old one.
Helmet
Mo used to wear this helmet quite a bit. The arrowhead logo is long since worn off the side—it was mine when I was a kid.
It turns out it still fits. Sort of.
It turns out it still fits. Sort of.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Lasagnapalooza
Corinna invited a few folks over for dinner and made an Olympic-sized lasagna.
I always try to cook for leftovers, and this has typically meant I fill both my casserole dishes when I cook something like this. It never occurred to me to use my turkey roaster as a casserole dish.
I always try to cook for leftovers, and this has typically meant I fill both my casserole dishes when I cook something like this. It never occurred to me to use my turkey roaster as a casserole dish.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Speed Table
I'd never heard of speed tables, just spotted this sign on the way home the other evening. It turns out it's like a long, flat speed hump, one that keeps the traffic from getting too crazy without stripping your muffler off if you're flying a long at 7 miles per hour.
I can think of thirty streets or so that could really benefit from these, including my street in Gardner.
A House Divided
I made a t-shirt and sweatshirt for a customer who was more than willing to pay a setup charge for a below-minimum order.
It seems he has two kids at college, but they aren't at the same one. Their two schools were, however, about to butt heads in a football match.
It seems he has two kids at college, but they aren't at the same one. Their two schools were, however, about to butt heads in a football match.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Stuffed Punkins
I love stuffed pumpkin.
Last time I made it, according to my above linked post, was about two days before I met the girl of my dreams. A couple of years ago there was a shortage of pie pumpkins, which is the kind you stuff, so I have my radar up by late September now. They're dirt cheap and plentiful again this year, and I decided I like this dish too much to make them one at a time. I did two, I might do three next time, I think three will fit in the oven.
About the same amount of work, and a lot more lunches left over.
I've started mixing up the stuffing recipe, too. Here's what's essential: sautéed onions, garlic, croutons, cheese, savory herbs, and fruit.
Gruyère is fantastic, but sharp cheddar will do and it's a fifth the price. Some bleu cheese in the mix is good to get some sour and salty notes. Craisins, figs or dates, even plain old raisins, will provide sweet bits.
Nuts of some kind are a good idea. And I advise a free hand with the butter, allow at least half a stick per punkin, use it for the onion/garlic sautée.
You can reintroduce the roasted seeds from cleaning the pumpkin seeds out, but I really like the roasted seeds by themselves.
Stuff the squash as tight as possible, then pour in a cup of chicken stock to each. You'll have to be patient, if you've done your due diligence at cramming the stuffing in, it'll take a few minutes to get a cup of stock absorbed.
Cap and bake for 90 minutes at 350º, uncap, top with more cheese, and bake another half hour.
Last time I made it, according to my above linked post, was about two days before I met the girl of my dreams. A couple of years ago there was a shortage of pie pumpkins, which is the kind you stuff, so I have my radar up by late September now. They're dirt cheap and plentiful again this year, and I decided I like this dish too much to make them one at a time. I did two, I might do three next time, I think three will fit in the oven.
About the same amount of work, and a lot more lunches left over.
I've started mixing up the stuffing recipe, too. Here's what's essential: sautéed onions, garlic, croutons, cheese, savory herbs, and fruit.
Gruyère is fantastic, but sharp cheddar will do and it's a fifth the price. Some bleu cheese in the mix is good to get some sour and salty notes. Craisins, figs or dates, even plain old raisins, will provide sweet bits.
Nuts of some kind are a good idea. And I advise a free hand with the butter, allow at least half a stick per punkin, use it for the onion/garlic sautée.
You can reintroduce the roasted seeds from cleaning the pumpkin seeds out, but I really like the roasted seeds by themselves.
Stuff the squash as tight as possible, then pour in a cup of chicken stock to each. You'll have to be patient, if you've done your due diligence at cramming the stuffing in, it'll take a few minutes to get a cup of stock absorbed.
Cap and bake for 90 minutes at 350º, uncap, top with more cheese, and bake another half hour.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Ripple
I've recently started recycling my glass bottles. They park this dumpster at the Price Chopper. I'm not going to get into the 'green' arguments for recycling here, because to me there's a better reason to take your bottles to the Ripple dumpster:
It's fun to throw them in and hear glass breaking. True story.
It's fun to throw them in and hear glass breaking. True story.
Homecoming
Em went to Homecoming in this dress with glittery Converse court shoes.
Step off, boys: You'll never measure up.
Step off, boys: You'll never measure up.
The New Normal
So I spotted this car on the way to work. I was ahead of schedule enough to stop and take a few shots.
Someone in the coffee shop tipped the owner off that someone was checking out his ride and he emerged offering to take my picture by it, in it, whatever I wanted. He all but offered to let me take it for a spin.
"What is it?" I asked.
"What are you?" he asked. "I see you come by here every morning and I wonder what is up with that helmet and all these lights and whatnot."
The car was a Morris Minor, a '63, so I guess part of the British Invasion in a way.
He asked me how far I ride. Really, he asked all the usual questions, and I gave the usual answers.
As in:
He also observed that it was dangerous, riding a bike to work. And I said, as usual, that sitting around waiting to have a heart attack is risky too.
Then he said, "You are normal!"
This was delivered as if he were the arbiter of this designation. I was afraid I was a freak, but some dude tooling around in a '63 British economy car says I fit right in... I'm pretty sure he meant it as a compliment, but I think it's the first time I've been accused of this. Ever.
Someone in the coffee shop tipped the owner off that someone was checking out his ride and he emerged offering to take my picture by it, in it, whatever I wanted. He all but offered to let me take it for a spin.
"What is it?" I asked.
"What are you?" he asked. "I see you come by here every morning and I wonder what is up with that helmet and all these lights and whatnot."
The car was a Morris Minor, a '63, so I guess part of the British Invasion in a way.
He asked me how far I ride. Really, he asked all the usual questions, and I gave the usual answers.
As in:
Q:Why the mohawk?
A:It doesn't matter if drivers are happy to see me, so long as they do see me.
He also observed that it was dangerous, riding a bike to work. And I said, as usual, that sitting around waiting to have a heart attack is risky too.
Then he said, "You are normal!"
This was delivered as if he were the arbiter of this designation. I was afraid I was a freak, but some dude tooling around in a '63 British economy car says I fit right in... I'm pretty sure he meant it as a compliment, but I think it's the first time I've been accused of this. Ever.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Occupants
I thought stopping by IOU/USA to see the Occupy Wall Street's local branch do their thing would be fun.
Not as fun as I'd thought. Fewer people than I expected, maybe 30 or 40. They spent most of the hour or so I hung out arguing about whether to move and, if so, where to.
Some wanted to camp out some place where pedestrians would see them and have to interact. Like Wall Street.
But this is Kansas City, and unless they're going to occupy the parking lot at a mall, they're going to be disappointed in the foot traffic. 99.9% of Kansas Citians don't walk anywhere except to and from their cars.
People would put up their hands to speak, but as soon as a recognized speaker started up, the interruptions were immediate, followed by interruptions to the interruptions along the lines of, 'Is this respectful? Is this what we're doing?'
Followed by even more earnest threats to quit, that, 'If this is what we're going to do, I'm out of here.'
It was frustrating to me on many levels, well beyond the fact that the only thing more annoying than someone running a meeting by Robert's Rules of Order is a meeting that desperately needs Robert's Rules or nothing can even be said. I've been as obnoxiously earnest as anyone in the park, and I've wanted to end the Fed since the 1980s. I just don't see this protest being effective. It's all emotion and no solution.
I don't mean to trash these protesters, some of them may not get the fundamentals of economics, but it's not like they'd learn that shit in school or in the mainstream press. They're out there for a good reason: many of them don't have the jobs their college degrees were supposed to secure because they had the bad fortune to graduate during the Second Great Depression which they did little to cause and are powerless to cure.
Everyone is hurting except, it seems, the handful of folks most responsible for it. Some of these elites complain about their lot, but be serious. It's lonely at the top, but there's plenty to eat and the lights stay on.
Protesting 'corporate greed' is like marching to end hurricanes or earthquakes. Corporations don't exist for some hippie-dippy set of ideals, they exist to make money and they should. Given a clear profit-based mission they generally only fuck up a little bit and almost always have to put at least a few knotty logs on the community wood pile in the process.
The Federal Reserve, fiat currency, central banking, and 'stimulus' spending, on the other hand, is worth protesting. A bunch of kids hanging out in a park is not really an occupation and doesn't require anyone to take them seriously.
Listen up: a system built on robbing Peter to pay Paul is not going to fold up because you hold up a sign that states the obvious about Paul's failings. And Paul is going to get his PR people way out ahead of you to make sure everyone knows that Peter wouldn't even have something to steal if it weren't for Paul.
Not as fun as I'd thought. Fewer people than I expected, maybe 30 or 40. They spent most of the hour or so I hung out arguing about whether to move and, if so, where to.
Some wanted to camp out some place where pedestrians would see them and have to interact. Like Wall Street.
But this is Kansas City, and unless they're going to occupy the parking lot at a mall, they're going to be disappointed in the foot traffic. 99.9% of Kansas Citians don't walk anywhere except to and from their cars.
People would put up their hands to speak, but as soon as a recognized speaker started up, the interruptions were immediate, followed by interruptions to the interruptions along the lines of, 'Is this respectful? Is this what we're doing?'
Followed by even more earnest threats to quit, that, 'If this is what we're going to do, I'm out of here.'
It was frustrating to me on many levels, well beyond the fact that the only thing more annoying than someone running a meeting by Robert's Rules of Order is a meeting that desperately needs Robert's Rules or nothing can even be said. I've been as obnoxiously earnest as anyone in the park, and I've wanted to end the Fed since the 1980s. I just don't see this protest being effective. It's all emotion and no solution.
I don't mean to trash these protesters, some of them may not get the fundamentals of economics, but it's not like they'd learn that shit in school or in the mainstream press. They're out there for a good reason: many of them don't have the jobs their college degrees were supposed to secure because they had the bad fortune to graduate during the Second Great Depression which they did little to cause and are powerless to cure.
Everyone is hurting except, it seems, the handful of folks most responsible for it. Some of these elites complain about their lot, but be serious. It's lonely at the top, but there's plenty to eat and the lights stay on.
Protesting 'corporate greed' is like marching to end hurricanes or earthquakes. Corporations don't exist for some hippie-dippy set of ideals, they exist to make money and they should. Given a clear profit-based mission they generally only fuck up a little bit and almost always have to put at least a few knotty logs on the community wood pile in the process.
The Federal Reserve, fiat currency, central banking, and 'stimulus' spending, on the other hand, is worth protesting. A bunch of kids hanging out in a park is not really an occupation and doesn't require anyone to take them seriously.
Listen up: a system built on robbing Peter to pay Paul is not going to fold up because you hold up a sign that states the obvious about Paul's failings. And Paul is going to get his PR people way out ahead of you to make sure everyone knows that Peter wouldn't even have something to steal if it weren't for Paul.
Boobies and Blood
They dyed the J.C. Nichols fountain pink for breast cancer awareness in October.
But in a story I heard of the Arab Spring heading into fall, a Syrian protester talked about spiking their fountains with red dye to symbolize the bloodshed.
The effect is rather pink in the fountainy parts of the fountains, in Damascus as in Kansas City:
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Motivation
The school is long sense closed but the grounds of this middle school building by my work serves as a practice field for the neighborhood's youth sport. Lacross, soccer, football, it's the same group of boys from what I can tell, they just change equipment with the seasons.
For football, they've brought these enormous yellow barrels out. I wondered what they used them for, and asked an adult through the fence the other day.
"What, do you take the kids who aren't cutting it and put them in barrels?"
"Yep," came the answer. "And then we put them out on the highway against a bridge support to make sure the other kids know they have to run fast and hit hard."
For football, they've brought these enormous yellow barrels out. I wondered what they used them for, and asked an adult through the fence the other day.
"What, do you take the kids who aren't cutting it and put them in barrels?"
"Yep," came the answer. "And then we put them out on the highway against a bridge support to make sure the other kids know they have to run fast and hit hard."
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
In-Korruptible
My favorite West Bottoms watering hole has apparently gone dry. Okay, I only went there twice, once to hear Melissa do her hippie shake and once out of curiosity.
The curiosity visit, I'd ridden past it so many times on my commute. Corinna was out of town, I figured for the hell of it I'd stop off and have a pint.
It was a bunch of kids. The bartender/manager included. They were sweet kids, treated me like a genuine folk hero because they'd seen me ride by with the tulle helmet mohawk. When a new batch of them arrived and the bartender girl asked to see their IDs, I realized, Holy shit, all these people are over 21!
I realize the corollary to my perception of them being younger than they are was their perception of me as much older than I am.
Anyway, the crazy old man on the bike has been riding by an apparently defunct bar lately. It never did seem to be very busy, so I guess that's to be expected. Even the lettering is gone from the windows, there have been speaker cabinets and furniture left out by the curb.
Korruption, once an apparent bellwether of the West Bottoms Renaissance, has shuffled off this mortal coil and joined the choir invisible.
The curiosity visit, I'd ridden past it so many times on my commute. Corinna was out of town, I figured for the hell of it I'd stop off and have a pint.
It was a bunch of kids. The bartender/manager included. They were sweet kids, treated me like a genuine folk hero because they'd seen me ride by with the tulle helmet mohawk. When a new batch of them arrived and the bartender girl asked to see their IDs, I realized, Holy shit, all these people are over 21!
I realize the corollary to my perception of them being younger than they are was their perception of me as much older than I am.
Anyway, the crazy old man on the bike has been riding by an apparently defunct bar lately. It never did seem to be very busy, so I guess that's to be expected. Even the lettering is gone from the windows, there have been speaker cabinets and furniture left out by the curb.
Korruption, once an apparent bellwether of the West Bottoms Renaissance, has shuffled off this mortal coil and joined the choir invisible.
Saturday, October 08, 2011
Friday, October 07, 2011
Thursday, October 06, 2011
Talent Show
I guess it's the same song except usually I'm complaining that I can't get a shot of Em on stage. I still couldn't, not like I'd want to, because they hide her in the back rows on accusations of height.
I have a compulsion to shoot even when my camera isn't the right gun for the job.
Lighting and distance considered, I did much better than average, photo-op-wise.
One kid sang "Don't Stop Believing." I guess Journey has gone full circle. It would have been laughably passé when I was in high school (back when the plains were black with buffalo and I had visions of Reagan drafting me to kill commies in central America). So while I feel incredibly un-cool saying so, what a great song.
Another performance was by a teacher who remembers the disco era. She described it as being two camps: rock & roll on one side, which people liked to listen to, and disco on the other, which they liked to go dancing to—this to introduce a country song. She sounded a lot like I probably do when I talk about the late 1980s, except she was talking about the late 1970s. I guess when it comes to nostalgia, we can't smell our own bullshit.
The overall caliber of the performances was pretty high, even allowing for the occasional karaoke bit. I'm not a fan of singing to a recorded background as a talent show entry. Nothing against the singing, but I think it robs the performer of a lot of the interpretive canvas. The kid with the Journey song on the piano owned his song in a way I don't think a karaoke singer can.
I did dig that the choral pieces had quite a bit of choreography to them. The choirs I remember from high school were so dull they could have been classified by the FDA as a Schedule I narcotic.
The show included the jazz band, too, and here I did get nostalgic. I lost some of my hearing sitting directly in front of a drum kit with a cymbal by each ear, but gawd I loves big band music. I like being the guitar player in the big band even better than I like listening to the band—well, I have Joe Henderson's big band album going on the hi-fi right now, I don't know if I like playing in a mediocre big band better than listening to a world class one.
The flashback effect of seeing this band was made the more vivid for the bassist in this band being, basically, a redheaded version of the bassist from my alma mater's jazz band (and the band that was never going to be called Foolkiller).
One of the neatest performances was a girl who sang with a buy playing a djembe as accompaniment.
Kind of surreal, the plaid shirt and African drum.
And I admit to getting some decent shots though desperate zoom measures of Em. She made herself up for the occasion and the impression was, basically, one of the girls from Robert Palmer's Addicted to Love video.
The stand-out performance, I thought, was this folkie type kid who came out and said he wanted to do something impressive since it was his senior year, but realized he should do something simple and powerful instead. I've lost the name of the piece, so I can't Google it to find out if it was a cover or if he wrote the piece, but I remember thinking If this is his simple piece, I wonder what the complex shit he plays is like.
I tried to get some shots of this girl with the batons, because I've never seen a twirler with such a well developed routine, but she moved far too fast. It was set to Walk This Way and at one point she was juggling/twirling three batons.
The show lasted over two hours with an intermission. Mo got a bit fussy when we went back in after the snack. She reasonably thought the show was over, and to settle her down I had to show her the program and count out that there were only eleven more pieces and then we could go home.
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