"The bicycle is the most civilized conveyance known to man.
Other forms of transport grow daily more nightmarish.
Only the bicycle remains pure in heart."
- Iris Murdoch, Irish-born British author/philosopher (1919-1999)
July, 2006. Woke up at 3:00 AM in order to stretch, have coffee & eat a light breakfast.
I clicked into my pedals in front of my house at 4:15 in the morning, up the street a few people were just getting home from a Friday night of partying. As I rode past them, they looked at me as if I was insane. It was still full dark.
I rode over to the start line at the University of Washington campus and met up with my co-worker, JJ. It was just the two of us together, as all the rest who had said they were going to ride with our group had dropped out for various reasons. We joined the 9,000 other riders milling about, and we ended up rolling out for the start of the ride just before 4:45 AM. The first 25 miles or so wound along Lake Washington Blvd, past Seward Park and along the route I take when I ride to work...
We stopped at a rest stop near my office in Kent for a couple of minutes to get rid of the early morning coffee and have some energy bars. We got to "the Hill" in Tacoma (as the ride organizers like to call it) before 7:00 AM. It was a fairly steep, mile-long ride - but no different than many of the hills we ride all the time. A few people were walking their bikes up, but not many.
We got to the rest stop at 50 miles and had some bananas and more energy food. As we rolled out, we jumped on a train of about 20 bikers and picked up the pace. We flew over the next 50 miles without stopping and arrived at the half-way point, Centralia, 100 miles into the ride, at 10:50 AM. Our goal had been to be at 100 miles by noon so we beat that by over an hour. It was the easiest hundred miles I had ever ridden - we averaged 19mph for the whole hundred, and that included the hill and the rollers.
JJ's girlfriend was driving support for us along with his dog, and met us in Centralia. Most of the 9,000 riders who participate in the STP ride it in two days, and Centralia is where most of them stop for the night. We were among the (foolish?) minority who had determined to ride it all in one day.
We relaxed in Centralia, rested, had a big spaghetti feast, lots of water, stretched, and then rolled out again just after noon. We had planned on going somewhat easy for the first 10 miles or so after Centralia, but it was clear pretty fast that JJ wasn't feeling good. We stopped at the next rest stop and he laid on the ground, complaining of a stomach-ache. After a bit I convinced him to get back on the bike and continue on. I kept hoping he would ride himself back into form, but he continued to get worse. He said the food was sitting in his stomach like a rock. We stopped in Winlock and he laid in the shade for about 20 minutes.
We mustered on. He would seem to look better and so I would pick up the pace and then look back and find him about a quarter mile behind. It seemed to take us forever just to get to a mini-rest stop at mile 137. Again he laid in the shade for about half an hour. I felt bad for him, but was getting antsy and frustrated at our slow pace. We had been cruising so well for the first 100 miles, but our momentum was now broken. We nursed ourselves to the rest stop at mile 145 and met up with JJ's girlfriend again. We told her she had better stop at every rest stop from now on, just in case.
I wouldn't have pushed him so hard, except that this wasn't the first time he had gotten sick on a ride. We had ridden the Flying Wheels Summer Century a few weeks previous. It was a 100-mile ride around northern King and southern Snohomish counties, with over 3,000 feet of climbing. After the first steep climb, just 8 miles into the ride, JJ had puked. He had had a triple latte and an egg McMuffin before starting (idiot!) and that didn't sit well with the exertion. After throwing up he felt better and was able to continue and finish that ride. With that memory in mind I just assumed he would eventually get better and be OK.
JJ rested again, ate a bit, and laid down. He said he thought we was feeling a little better. This would proof false however, as soon as we started again. He was still feeling pretty bleak & weak, and our slow pacing had really brought my energy level down as well and I began to feel the miles a lot more.
We passed through Longview, Washington and crossed into Oregon at mile 152, over the huge, steep Lewis & Clark bridge across the Columbia River. I paced JJ up and over the bridge and we continued on. The rollers were a little less steep now, but our pace was still well below where I wanted it to be.
Eventually we made it to mile 175 and I told JJ I thought he had better call it a day. He had had the dry heaves for the last few miles and was wobbling on his bike. Since his stomach was so upset he wasn't able to eat and drink enough and so that compounded his problems. He had come to the same conclusion, that he was done, and crawled into the back of his girlfriend's Blazer. I told them I would see them at the finish line.
Extremely tired and sore at this point, I decided to try to ride the rest of the way in as fast as I could. I jumped on the wheel of two really strong riders and drafted behind them at about 24mph for the next 15 miles, then stopped to refill my water bottles for the final push. Riding solo, and basically trying to time-trial home to finish the damn thing as fast as I could, I tried to stay between 18 and 22mph, I finally crossed the bridge into Portland and rolled across the finish line sometime after 8:00 PM.
Even with all the meandering and rest stopping, I still managed to average about 17.5mph for the entire 210-mile ride. Just over 12 hours of actual saddle time.
I met up with JJ and his girlfriend and went immediately to the beer garden. A cold one had never tasted so perfect. JJ was feeling a bit better - he had eaten and napped - but was still not well. After resting a bit with some more beer, we climbed into the car, got some food, and began the long drive back up to Seattle. Got home about 1:00 AM, took a long, hot shower, and fell into bed...
KJT - Seattle to Portland (2006)
30 March 2009
Seattle to Portland by Bicycle
(210 miles)
28 March 2009
Suite - uh, Sweet Game!
"Looking through the bent backed tulips
to see how the other half lives
looking through a glass onion"
- The Beatles, "Glass Onion" (1968)
One of our (Raleigh's) vendors scored me an extra ticket to tonight's Seattle Sounders FC game. Turns out it was in the club level. Got to see how the "other half" lives.
Seattle beat Real Salt Lake 2-0. The crowd was amazing once again. Another sell-out with almost 30,000 fans in attendance. And that was with very cold weather and constant drizzle - of course, that didn't bother me - being in the club level and all.
Nate Jaqua scored first in the 17th minute, and the wonderkid Fredy Montero scored his third goal in two games in the 77th.
Two games, two wins, two shut-outs, two sell-outs. Not a bad way to start your inaugural season.
Extra special thanks goes out to Dean and the guys at ESP - thanks so much for the ticket, the hospitality, and the great time!
KJT - Seattle (2009)
24 March 2009
Liver Worries
Semi-Teetotaler from here on out.
Just got back from the doctor's office.
At the end of January I had a doctor's appointment during which the doctor mentioned that in 2007 a blood test had noted that I had an elevated liver enzyme, Gamma-glutamyl transferase or GGT. The GGT is the liver enzyme involved in the transfer of amino acids across the cellular membrane (among other things). The normal range for me should have been between 7 - 64 IU/L (International Units per Liter). The 2007 test had the GGT at 90 IU/L. She had said the elevation could have been due to having alcohol a day or two before the test. She suggested then that we retest it, and I agreed. It would be a good time to test since I'd had the flu and hadn't had anything to drink for a few days. I had another blood draw.
The doctor called me at home a couple days later, around the first of February, to tell me the test had shown a GGT level of 201 - extremely elevated!
I immediately stopped drinking all alcohol, and decided to wait a month before taking the retest. A friend of ours got married on February 14th, and I had one glass of wine to toast the nuptials, but other than that I haven't had a drop of alcohol since January 25th. No Guinness or Jameson on St. Paddy's Day, no beer at the soccer game - nothing. On February 20th I also quit drinking coffee. I started drinking green tea and mint tea. Went through a couple weeks of headaches with the caffeine withdrawl. Also began mixing organic apple cider vinegar with water and drinking that throughout the day. In the mornings, instead of my normal espresso, I'd boil water and squeeze a half a lemon into it, a capful of the apple cider vinegar, and I'd cut up a bit of fresh ginger and steep that in the water.
I also began running a bit more regularly, as in at least 5K five or six days a week. Some days I'd run a 10K, some days I'd run a fast 5K, some days just a mellow jog - but at least 5K everyday. Usually on the treadmill in the weight room at the office before work, since the weather has been shite lately, but also at home outside with the dogs.
I've lost 15lbs since January, and I've got more energy. Last Thursday I went in for a blood draw for a full liver panel and hepatitis panel and this morning I met with the doctor to see the results.
All hepatitis results were negative.
The GGT level was back down to 71. Still a bit higher than the normal range of 7 - 64, but the lowest it's tested since 2007.
The ALT level was 43. Back within the normal range of 10 - 60.
My ALP (alkaline phosphatase) was 46, within the normal
A bunch of the other tests came back with good results as well: my HDL Cholesterol (the good kind) was 40 (barely within the normal 40 - 59 MG/DL range - this one should be a little higher), and my LDL Cholesterol (the bad kind) was 117 (in the near optimal range). My Cholesterol index was 4.3 (in the average range of 4.0 - 6.7). My Triglyceride was at 82 (normal is anything below 150).
She was very pleased with the results, and I was quite relieved as I had been running through worst-case scenarios in my head and in my dreams: liver disease, liver failure, transplant lists, cancer, etc.
She said she didn't think I needed to give up alcohol or coffee for the rest of my life (another fear of mine), but that it would probably be wise to use them in moderation much more than I had in the past. Good enough for me. I'm thinking I'm done with hard liquor, except for maybe very rare occasions and then just one little shot to sip in celebration of something. I was given the green light to have an occasional beer or glass of wine or espresso, and so I will. Rarely. Looks like I'll no longer be going by the nickname "Two Pints", but at least I don't need a liver transplant.
Palpable relief.
KJT - Seattle (2009)
19 March 2009
Sounders FC
"The Beautiful Game" comes to Seattle.
We took Sennet to his first soccer game tonight, though I doubt he'll remember it.
The Seattle Sounders FC opened their inaugural season against the New York Red Bulls in front of a sell-out crowd of almost 34,000. Our good friends (Karen & Greg) have season tickets, but unfortunately (for them) they couldn't go to the home opener. Their bad luck was our good luck. Karen emailed me and asked if Stacie and I wanted to go? Umm, YES!! We jumped at the chance.
It had been raining all week, but as we drove downtown around 5pm the skies were overcast but dry. The temperature cool, but not cold. Perfect game weather.
We found free parking on the street several blocks away and walked to the stadium. Their seats were great, about 15 rows up from the field in the SW corner.
We stayed for the entire game (a slight worry before-hand, with Stacie being 6-months pregnant) and had a blast.
Seattle scored two goals in the first half (Fredy Montero: 12´, Brad Evans: 25´) and another in the second (Fredy Montero, again: 75´). Final score 3 — 0.
This won't be the last time we go to a game. We're thinking of buying the half-season package for next year. And later this year we'd love to see the Sounders play the L.A. Galaxy at home May 10th, and an exhibition game against venerable English Premier League team Chelsea FC on July 18th.
Seattle welcomed Major League Soccer with a bang - setting a new standard for soccer and the league in America. Here is more on the story from www.MLS.net.
16 March 2009
Big Baby
Placenta prævia is an obstetric complication in which the placenta is attached to the uterine wall close to or covering the cervix. It can some times occur in the latter part of the first trimester, but usually during the second or third. It is a leading cause of antepartum haemorrhage (vaginal bleeding). It affects approximately 0.5% of all labors.
We just returned from another ultrasound, and the news was all good.
In an earlier ultrasound, we discovered that Stacie had placenta prævia, where the placenta is covering the cervix, potentially making for a complicated birth or a C-section. On today's ultrasound the doctor said the prævia was diminishing on it's own and would probably be gone in a few more weeks. That was the news we were hoping for. We'll have one more ultrasound at about 34 weeks.
We also got a couple more pictures, and learned that Sennet looks like he's going to be a BIG BOY. We're at 26.5 weeks right now and he's already 13 inches and over 3.5lbs. Not overly surprising considering his father (moi) is 6´5˝ and about 230lbs, my father was about 6-foot, Stacie's father is 6´4˝ and I've got two cousins who are over 6´6˝. Big runs in the family.
To date we've had four parenting classes: Infant Safety and CPR, Conscious Fathering, Breast Feeding, and Newborn Care. I now know the proper rhythm for giving CPR to a baby (the same beat as "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees), the correct way to swaddle and sooth a baby, the proper way to 'latch on' to the breast, and how to (try to) have the Happiest Baby on the Block. I think we're ready to move on from the classes and try it for real.
Three months left to go...
05 March 2009
The Clap
The new U2 album (No Line On The Horizon)
I've heard a bit of it, and I imagine I'll check out the rest.
Which takes me to the point of this blog:
This is surely fiction, but it's a great story. Hilarious.
At a U2 concert in Scotland, Bono asked the audience for total quiet.
Then, in the silence, he started to clap his hands slowly,
The crowd was silent as Bono continued the slow clapping.
Finally from the front of the crowd a drunken voice
“Well, fookin' stop clapping then, ya evil bastard!”
KJT - Seattle (2009)
03 March 2009
Mix & Match, or Separate but Equal?
"Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like
- Mark Twain, American humorist/writer (1835-1910)
I was having lunch the other day at a little Mediterranean cafe on Capitol Hill (falafel, baba ghanoush, hummous & dolmathes). I observed a young woman with her lunch across the restaurant. It looked like she had ordered a gyro sandwich and fries. She ate all the fries on her plate before even unwrapping the gyro. This struck me as profoundly odd. I've never understood people that eat one item at a time on their plates. I usually go around the plate sampling everything, trying to leave a little bit of what I like best as the last bite. I have NEVER eaten just one item at a time for any meal in my life (unless, of course, the meal was just one item - like Phad Thai or something). What makes one do such a thing?
I'm not saying it's a bad thing, or wrong. I just don't understand it. Perhaps I'm the odd one.
How do you eat? A bit of one thing after another until the plate is empty, or just one single item until it is finished, then moving on to the next?
And why? That's the million dollar question. Why do you eat the way you do?
No judgements here, just curiosity...
Got a few comments already...
Red, your tale of bread barriers reminded me of this
(Sennet will be introduced to many of this man's great books...)
27 February 2009
Rambleweed, Pt. 1:
the Spud Incident
“My theory on housework is, if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?”
- Erma Bombeck, American humorist writer (1927-1996)
In 1988-89 (my second year of college) I lived in a apartment complex that we all colloquially referred to as Rambleweed. (Strangely, this complex was directly next to my old high school.) It was predominantly students from Colorado State that lived in the complex, so needless to say it was a bit rowdy, noisy, rude.
I shared an apartment with two friends, one being six-foot-seven, and the other six-foot-five, like myself. It was a tall, loud apartment.
Many, many odd, mysterious and highly amusing occurrences took place over that year...
At one point we all decided that our apartment was beginning to smell a bit, shall we say, ripe. Not terrible, but just... less than fresh. We decided we'd better clean the place up some. We spent the weekend vacuuming, dusting, mopping, and sweeping. We cleaned the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, the hallways and our bedrooms. We were very satisfied to have a nice, fresh clean apartment again.
The next morning we woke up and the 'ripe' smell was still there. We made half-hearted attempts to locate the origin of this smell, to no avail.
A few weeks went by, and the smell lingered, evolving into a decided funk. Our apartment was funky, and not in the good way.
We all blamed each other, looked through the refrigerator and cupboards, hoping to find the offending substance. Again, nada.
Finally one Saturday afternoon, our roommate BS decided he'd had enough. He demanded that we all tear the apartment apart until we found what was causing such a rank, malodorous air.
For a few hours we pulled open every cupboard, every drawer, checked the drains, the trash can, everywhere. Finally as I was fiddling around in my room half-heartedly poking through stuff I heard BS say from the hallway, "Hey did anyone check through the hall closet?" I had thought they had, and they thought I had. BS opened the door and nodded his head, "Yeah, I think it's in here..."
He reached up on a high shelf at the very back of the closet and pulled down a paper grocery bag.
"What's this?" he asked.
Immediately I knew what had been causing our misery. I tried to stop him, but before I could utter a word BS opened the paper bag and stuck his head down deep inside and took a long, deep breath.
His screams echoed off the walls and rattled the windows. He flung himself backwards and dropped the bag, hands clawing at the air and his eyes closed and watering. His face was beet red, his veins were bulging on his neck and he was sweating profusely. He banged into the wall and, with eyes still closed, began running at full speed. He slammed into the closet doors, knocking them off their hinges. Still disoriented and blind he turned slightly and ran full speed into the bathroom, directly into the sliding shower doors, knocking both off their rails and into the tub. Still bellowing, out of his mind and half-blind, he bolted out of the bathroom and down the hall. He flung the door open, flew down the steps and out into the parking lot, taking huge gulps of air and making spastic movements with his arms and legs. It looked like he'd developed a tic. Or that he was having a fit.
Laughing my ass off, I grabbed up the bag and ran after him. I held the bag out at arms-length and opened it and ran toward him. He sprinted into the middle of the street and then stopped and turned around. His eyes blazed and he yelled at full volume,
I decided that I'd better not mess with an angry, disoriented six-foot-seven, 250-pound behemoth in the throws of a seizure. Still chuckling, I jogged down the street to the garbage bins and threw away the bag of quite rotten, slimy, and horribly moldered potatoes that I had squirreled away in the back of the closet untold weeks ago in order to keep them from going bad too quickly.
Unfortunately, I had promptly forgot all about them. Even the smell in the apartment didn't register. It wasn't until he'd pulled the sack out of the closet that everything had suddenly clicked into place...
KJT - Ft. Collins, CO (1988-89)
20 February 2009
Khoda
"I paint objects as I think them, not as I see them."
- Pablo Picasso, Spanish artist (1881-1973)
This is a kickass five mintue video by Scottish artist Reza Dolatabadi. Each frame is a separate PAINTING! Pause anywhere in the video and you are looking at an individual painting. Reminds me of some of the Tool videos...
From the artist, Reza Dolatabadi:
What if you watch a film and whenever you pause it, you face a painting? This idea inspired Reza Dolatabadi to make Khoda. Over 6000 paintings were painstakingly produced during two years to create a five minutes film that would meet high personal standards. Khoda is a psychological thriller; a student project which was seen as a 'mission impossible' by many people but eventually proved possible!
Director and art director: Reza Dolatabadi
Written by Reza Dolatabadi & Mark Szalos Farkas
Animation by Adam Thomson
Music by Hamed Mafakheri
Winner of the Best Animation Canary Wharf Film Festival (London) Aug, 2008
Winner of the Best Student Animation Flip Festival (Birmingham) 2008
Winner of the Best Student Animation, Royal Television Society Award, Scotland (rts) 2009
Official selection for the "Best Short Film Program" at Waterford Film Festival (Ireland) November 2008
Official Selections
16TH FILM FESTIVAL CONTRAVISION (Berlin) Sept 2008
Marbella International Film Festival (Spain) Oct 2008
Encounter Film Festival (Bristol, UK) Nov 2008
Exposures Film Festival (Manchester, UK) Nov 2008
Renderyard Short Film Festival (London)
Flip Animation Festival (Birmingham) Nov, 2008
Animated Dreams (Tallinn) Nov, 2008
Rendezvous with Madness Film Festival (Toronto) Nov, 2008
Tip: Sullivan.
KJT - Seattle (2009)
18 February 2009
To Snip, or Not To Snip?
Male circumcision is the removal of some or all of the foreskin (prepuce) from the penis. The word "circumcision" comes from Latin circum (meaning "around") and cædere (meaning "to cut").
So that's the debate we're having around the house these days. Do we have Sennet circumcised or not? (He's not due till June).
Neither one of us has terribly strong feelings either one way or another, so I thought I'd get some opinions.
Right now I'm probably leaning toward not having it done, since it's natural to have it (the foreskin), so why remove it.
The American Medical Association states, from 1999: "Virtually all current policy statements from specialty societies and medical organizations do not recommend routine neonatal circumcision, and support the provision of accurate and unbiased information to parents to inform their choice."
So there's my question to you:
Mothers: if you have a son, or have had the discussion, what do you think, yes or no?
Fathers: which decision did you make for your son? Or would if you had a son?
Ladies: have you been with "both kinds"? Any opinions on performance, presentation, grooming, friendliness?
Guys: Do you have strong feelings of your own either way? Why?
Please leave any and all opinions in the comments section, and thanks.
KJT - Seattle (2009) (Picture photoshopped this morning...)
15 February 2009
Through Paris, Quickly
“Secrets travel fast in Paris.”
- Napoléon Bonaparte, military & political leader of France, later Emporer (1769-1821)
From 1988 to 1995 I went to college at Colorado State and eventually graduated with a bachelor's degree in technical journalism (and a history minor). In one of my various electronic field production classes our professor showed us the above movie (along with The Red Balloon). It impressed the hell out of me, but over time I had forgotten it completely.
Recently a blog I follow posted it, and it brought back a flood of memories. It was great to see it again, because when I originally viewed it back in maybe 1992 or 93, I hadn't been to Paris. Now that I've been four times and recognize some of the scenery it is even cooler.
Here is the background behind the movie, from Hollywood Elsewhere:
"On an August morning in 1978," the story goes, "French director Claude Lelouch mounted a gyro-stabilized camera to the bumper of a Ferrari 275 GTB and had a friend, a professional Formula 1 racer, drive at breakneck speed through the heart of Paris.
"The film was limited for technical reasons to 10 minutes. The driver barrel-assed all the way from Porte Dauphine (on the city's western edge, adjacent to the Bois de Bologne) to the Basilica Sacre Coeur in Montmartre.
"No streets were closed, for Lelouch was unable to obtain a permit. The driver completed the course in about 9 minutes, reaching nearly 140 mph (or was it kph?) in some stretches. The footage reveals him running real red lights, nearly hitting real pedestrians, and driving the wrong way up several one-way streets.
"Upon showing the film in public for the first time, Lelouch was arrested. He has never revealed the identity of the driver, and the film went underground until a DVD release a few years ago."
That kicks ass.
Tip of the hat to Cajun Boy, I basically stole his post.
KJT - Seattle (2009)
11 February 2009
Panama Canal, Quickly
"Scientists investigate that which already is;
Engineers create that which has never been.''
-Albert Einstein, German-born theoretical physicist (1879-1955)
This is a great video showing the time-lapse passage of a cruise ship through the 48-mile long Panama Canal in under two minutes. A typical passage of a cargo ship takes between eight and ten hours. The canal consists of man-made and natural lakes and canals and three sets of locks.
I've never been to the canal, or to Panama, but would love to go sometime. I'm impressed and amazed at the engineering marvel that trimmed the ocean-going trip from San Francisco to New York from 14,000 miles (south around Cape Horn) to just 6,000 through the canal. Mind-boggling feat, which unfortunately cost over 27,000 lives to complete. The canal opened in 1914.
Tolls for the canal are based on the type of vessel, the size, and what it is carrying. The most expensive toll to date was charged to the cruiser liner "Disney Magic" on May 16, 2008: $331,200! The least expensive toll was $0.36 to American adventurer Richard Halliburton, who swam the canal in 1928. The average toll is around $54,000.
Tip for the video from Andrew Sullivan.
KJT - Seattle (2009)
08 February 2009
χταπόδι των Κυκλάδων
"The Greek earth opens before me like the Book of Revelations. I never knew that the earth contains so much; I had walked blindfolded, with faltering steps... The light of Greece opened my eyes, penetrated my pores, expanded my whole being."
- Henry Miller, "The Colossus of Maroussi" (1941)
We took a ferry from the mainland. Deck passage. Threw our bags down in a heap, threw ourselves on top of them and hunkered in for the long, slow voyage. The Cyclades were the island group we were heading for, out of Athens via the commercial port of Piraeus. Our specific destination, the small island of Ios. Only 11 miles long and six miles wide with a population of about 1,500 - a hilly, arid island rising out of the sapphire of the Aegean Sea.
It was a foggy journey, small islands and rock outcroppings appearing suddenly off to the side or almost in front of us. Nervously, we trusted the Greek sailors who had been plying these waters since antiquity to see us through. We sat out on the bow cross-legged and shared a bag of pistachios. The fog muted the sounds and our senses. We napped.
Eventually we pulled into the small harbor on Ios, disembarked, and made our way up the twisting staircases to the main village of Chora - no vehicles here, just stairs, narrow walkways, and donkey paths. We checked into a small room at a cheap, but decent hostel, and set out to explore the village. It was a beautiful town of whitewashed stone houses with bright blue painted doors and windows. We felt like we were walking through a fairy tale - everything clean and bright and perfect.
One evening we stumbled across a small cafe, set at the very top of the village overlooking the houses and the bay. No one was around and we wondered if it was open. We poked around a bit and eventually a wild-haired man with a twisted beard, a tank top, and short short cut-off jeans appeared and asked if we wanted to eat. We asked if the cafe was really open, and he laughed and bade us to sit down. We took a table out on the small deck - the view was spectacular and the sun was just beginning to set. We could see a ferry down below in the harbor.
He had no menus so we asked if he had Greek salad and calamari. His eyes lit up and he explained that he went diving every morning for fish and calamari and he had some that were caught just hours ago. We both ordered a big plate of the calamari and Greek salads to start with. Also a bottle of the fantastic Greek resinated wine, Retsina.
Soon the salads arrived and we were in heaven. Such fresh produce, such thick ornery squares of fresh, handmade feta, locally pressed olive oil. The tomatoes and peppers were ripe to bursting with wholesome flavor and the romaine, onions, and cucumbers had a fresh crunch that was unequalled. The warm homemade pita bread pushed it over the top. Eventually the calamari arrived and we were treated to one of the best meals in my lifetime. We marveled at the juicy texture and light coating on the octopus. We were both fans of calamari, but neither of us had ever experienced anything like this. A squeeze of lemon and we were in heaven.
Crazyman cleared our plates and asked if we needed anything else. We looked at each other and I knew RJ was thinking the same thing as I was - how often would ever find ourselves in a position like this again? The setting, the warm breeze off the bay in the twilight, and the amazing food - we had to do it. We both ordered an exact repeat performance: another two Greek salads and another two orders of calamari. The man laughed and jumped around and ran off to start them. He brought us back some Ouzo and three glasses to which we all splashed a bit of water and lifted our glasses to each others health. The bitter anise-flavored liquor warmed our bellies and was a perfect apéritif to begin our second dinner as the stars began to burn in the night skies.
We stayed on the island almost a week, most days lounging on the beaches, swimming, snorkeling, hiking through the hills, and reading under the shade of the olive trees. The nights were a bit more hedonistic - the island a magnet for young travelers from across the globe. A few nights RJ didn't make it back to the room at all.
So enamored was I of the beauty of the Greek salads, that one day before we left I had one for breakfast, one for lunch, and one for dinner - that was all I ate all day, just Greek salads. It was bliss. Pure bliss.
KJT - Ios, Greece (1998)
(translation: Octopus of the Cyclades)
24 January 2009
Burgled
“Thieves respect property.
They merely wish the property to become their property
that they may more perfectly respect it.”
- G. K. Chesterton, English-born Gabonese Critic, Essayist, Novelist, and Poet (1874-1936)
Unreal.
I went outside Saturday morning, got in my truck, started it up and got quite a surprise. My normally smooth-running pickup now sounded like a motorcycle in need of a tune-up.
I sat there for a minute pondering. I used to have an old Chevy Blazer (1972) that I had bought used. The guy that had it before me had installed glasspacks on the exhaust system - giving it more power, but also making it noisy as hell - and this is what my pickup now reminded me of.
I turned off the engine, got out, and looked under the truck. To my amazement, my exhaust system was in two distinct pieces, with a large gap missing in the middle. I was baffled. I didn't remember running over anything or striking anything. Looking closer, the pipes had a very clean edge to them. Even more confusing.
I went inside and called around to a couple repair shops, explained my situation, and was told that my catalytic converter had been STOLEN!
Yep, last night someone had crawled under my truck, SAWED OFF THE CONVERTER, and absconded with it. I guess it takes these dicks about two minutes with a Sawzall.
I had never heard of this, but apparently it is an epidemic growing across the country - skyrocketing, some are saying. Sometimes the thieves unbolt it, and sometimes they saw it right off. I have now learned that there is platinum inside the converter, which is an expensive metal and greatly valued by thieves meaning to sell it for scrap to dealers willing to turn a blind eye to pesky legal concerns. From what I've read, this is so prevalent now that it's happening in broad daylight in shopping mall parking lots. Bastards!
It's going to run me around $400 to have it replaced, and I'll try to find out if there is anyway to secure it to prevent this from happening again.
KJT - Seattle (2009)
22 January 2009
Bacon Nirvana!
"Mmm ... bacon"
- Homer Simpson, Nuclear Safety Inspector, bacon lover
I wasn't sure it could get any better than the BACON ROLL,
Granted, I haven't tried it yet. But I will... oh, yes... I will!!
Behold, the goodness that is, the BACON EXPLOSION:
Step 1: create the bacon weave; Step 2: season
Step 3: add sausage layer; Step 4: add second, cooked bacon layer w/ BBQ sauce
Step 5: roll sausage tightly; Step 6: roll bacon weave & season, place on grill
Step 7: grill till center is 165° (1 hour/inch thickness); Step 8: slather BBQ sauce
(And MUCH thanks to my friend & bacon comrade, BF, for the head's up...)
KJT - Seattle (2009)
