Tawk Amongst Yourselves

Me too, Julia. I check back frequently, hoping for more exciting posts and comments. (Not “more-exciting.”) Don’t tell my boss.

Glad I’m not the only FA compulsed.

Oh and a Happy Bloomsday Everyone!

Okay, since Mr. Felber is too busy making with the funny for his day job, Get Your War 0n - page 55 - is now up and running for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy your weekend, guys!

Thanks for the link, Cooper. Glad I compulsed by FA on the way offline.

Gee, Dan, somehow POTUS didn’t come through our neighborhood either. Wonder why that is…and yes, Ann, traffic past the game tonight was wicked. We second your motion for such a fabulous lane! All in favor?

Oh wait, my partner works for the DoT, and she says there’s not enough space for as many lanes as it would take to acccomodate all of us who are rabid non-Mariners fans. Don’t you hate when the technicalities get in the way of a really good idea?

Mr. Cooper, I read the link. You ingest too much poison, sir. Read something from Coulter, and relax.

Right wing politics trump everything. The religious right voted out the most devout Christian president in our history to have the first astrologist president. In the same way the right will defend (or just tolerate) the psychotic Ann Coulter.

In the introduction to this week’s Wait Wait, sadly Adamless, Peter Seagal starting talking about the Yellow Rose’s trip into dangerous and hostile territory. Much to my dismay the punch line had nothing to do with his visit to our upper left hand corner. However the Lobster was kind enough to us lefties to send a rain shower, both papers I get had pictures of the POTUS standing in a downpour. I guess his momma never learned him to come in out of the rain.

On a more dismal topic, I note with no small amount of shame the attempts by the military and administration PR flacks to paint the GITMO suicides as planned acts of warfare. I guess you have to totally deny the humanity of people you have rendered faceless and nameless in order to keep doing the things we are doing to these men. How did we ever sink so low, to where the suicides of desperate men become “asymmetric warfare”? I guess there is more truth than I would like to admit in this story on Slate bye Michael Kinsley “The CIA is in the forefront of efforts to make sure that democracy, individual rights, and stuff like that don’t get in the way of our crusade for the spread of democracy, individual rights, and stuff like that.”

Jay

I’m back. I’m tired. My luggage (along with everyone else’s in our group) is still in Atlanta.

It was rather nice not having access to the internet/American news on a daily basis (though I did snag a USAToday to check on the Tigers one day).

So when does the new crew move in here anyway?

“Envy was dripping…” Nah, David. I’ve lived in Central Florida and I suspect it was the humidity.

Oh good, dee, you’re back. I did offer, if you recall, to schlep the bags and guard them with my life, if you would take me along to Provence. After all, my bass voice is much more established than that of a newly testosterone engorged 17 or 18 year old male. But I’m not a bitter person and probably had nothing to do with them being flown to a dusty airstrip near Bemidji, MN, where they were hung from the the horns of the 20 foot concrete statue of Babe The Blue Ox during a driving rainstorm. Probably not.

Ah, cooper - I’m sure your basso profundo would have rounded out the ensemble nicely. But even with three teenage basses, the concerts went well.

The first was in a 700 year old church in Roquemaure, and we were apparently one of the biggest things to hit the town in a while. They fed us well, and I discovered a new taste sensation — white wine flavored with violets.

The second one,in the basilica in Marseille, was special because all of our host families were there. I think all of us, especially the kids, will find that part of the trip the most memorable. Such incredibly sweet and generous people, sending us off with wine, foie gras (homemade!)and freshly picked cherries.

The third one was in a modern church in Toulon and unfortunately was scheduled at the same time France was playing its first game in the World Cup.The audience was sparse, but appreciative. We sang the Canticle by Jean Racine as our encore and they were in tears. In a good way.

In between we sang a capella in the Arena in Niems, in the cathedral in Monaco, on top of the fortress in Roquebrune, and, on our last night in Nice after the farewell dinner, we gathered outside the restaurant on the street and sang the Marseillaise. We got a nice reception from the passers-by and the little old ladies in the upstairs apartments who leaned out their windows to listen.

And if it would get the Tigers into the World Series, I would take one for the team and return to France. Every summer, if I must.

siobhan, about 30 years ago, I remember hearing a commercial from the Pork Council about how they used everything from the pig except the squeal. Soon afterwards, following a tour of the meat case of a supermarket in a more “ethnic” part of town, I considered the numerous undesirable and disgusting parts of the hog that I had never seen offered for sale and I came to a conclusion… these parts of the hog are made unrecognizable by grinding them up and putting them into sausage, bologna, braunsweiger, the various “wursts” and HOTDOGS. I’ve been near vegetarian ever since.

Adam, this is what you meant by tawking amongst ourselves, right?

Besides, who has money after the $8 beer?

Siobhan–the Tigs have the best record in baseball. Run, don’t walk to your nearest bandwagon!

It was envy-laced sweat, Cooper.

Doesn’t matter what was in the hot dog if she got to eat it with her grandfather at a baseball game. That would be a most sacred application of the principle of gustatory dispensation.

Maverick Ranch puts up an all-natural, mad-cow disease-free all-beef hot dog that is quite good (boiled, of course, the only way to prepare a hot dog).

I’m trying to remember who is the fellow Cabot’s Hunter’s Seriously Sharp Cheddar fan. If you feel adventurous, try a slice with a slice of guava paste. I find it perilously close to addictive.

David,

I’m the Cabot’s fan. But what, exactly, is guava paste? I understand “paste,” and I believe that “guava” is a kind of tropical fruit, but I’m not sure what they mean together.

Sharon,

Check in the Hispanic foods section of your grocery story. Get the straight guava paste, not the guava paste with a guava jelly center (guava jelly is good in its own right, but doesn’t work so well for this purpose). The paste is really, really thick, and for people like me, really, really good. Guava paste is also really cheap, for which I am thankful. I remember my mother and my uncle who has spent 2 years in Brazil during WWII making the paste. It involved cooking the guavas, squeezing out the liquid through cheesecloth, and fending off pesky children until it was done.

I’m more intrigued by the fact that your mother and uncle spent two years making guava paste!

David, I remember making that kind of fudge and must agree, it’s much better than the gooey kind. Hmmmm. Maybe it’s in Joy of Cooking. If not, we may need to start a recipe exchange thread.

I know what you mean, David. When I was nine, my best friend tried to hang me from the joist in his garage. Nothing malicious, mind you, it was purely an experiment to him. I was on my way up, when my older cousin just happened to be walking by and stopped the foolishness. Life is often like that, don’t you think?

Cooper,

In my brother’s case, it was malicious. I just don’t know if the fact that he was only 4 precluded success.

siobhan,

Oh, I hope Maureen Thomas is a lurker. Dad won’t be able to conjure up a complete enough memory of how he made the other greatest fudge in the history of the world (he and Maureen Thomas, fudgemakers non pariel).

David, I don’t know her current last name, but I know that she moved from our native Dearborn to Seattle. Perhaps she will wander into a certain bookstore…