Casino Royale

I've watched it twice in just a few days. I really liked this movie.

It falls into my favorite category of movies: Guys that aren't perfect, yet have honor and bravery. They aren't always great at the micro level, but they put the macro above themselves. Plus, they have to have passion.

Eva Green is very pretty, if a bit too thin and frail. She's fine, I suppose. I can set aside my disdain for scrawny women long enough to get into the moment of the movie. As Vesper Lynd, she is pretty, after all. And, smart. And, bold. And, sharp witted. It all adds up.

"I can't resist waking you. Every time I do you look at me as if you hadn't seen me in years. Makes me feel reborn."

-- Vesper Lynd

I love that part. That one line. She says it, but it's really him and his passion that drives it.

That's what I want: That feeling. Every man should have a woman who they find themselves looking at like that.

Every woman should be adored. And, feel it. Know it.


Only time will tell if I watch this one as much as Gladiator, Last of the Mohicans, Casablanca, and Raiders of the Lost Ark, but so far, I like it. I keep going over parts of it in my head. Great lines. Great moments. Best Bond movie in years.

But, it also seems to be a new category of Bond movies. Like Batman Begins, hopefully this one starts the movie slate clean. I'd like to see the books and stories again. Fresh and more bold, manly, and robust. James Bond started out great, years ago, then took a nose dive into campy adventure that I could easily forget, if we could move on with this new James Bond.

The combination of Daniel Craig and the writing style of this movie, brings us a grittier, bolder James Bond, who's far more flawed, vulnerable, passionate, and powerful than than the ones of the recent past. Thank God.

Of course, with power comes responsibility...

"If the only thing left of you was your smile and your little finger, you'd still be more of a man than anyone I've ever known."

"That's because you know what I can do with my little finger..."

Grease

I'm watching Grease with my kids right now. I love this movie. I must have seen it at least 30 times. That's more than Star Wars, which is good or bad, depending on who you are.

A few more sexual innuendos that I remembered, now that I'm watching it with kids. They don't seem to get them, though. That's good. They're too busy laughing at the funny names of the the characters (Doody. hehe.). Whew!

Boy, I used to have such a huge crush on Olivia Newton-John.

Guess mine is not the first heart broken,
my eyes are not the first to cry
I'm not the first to know,
there's just no gettin' over you

Hello, I'm just a fool who's willing
to sit around and wait for you
But baby can't you see, there's nothin' else for me to do
I'm hopelessly devoted to you

What a fuckin' asshole, that Danny Zucko!

Sandy, can't you see
i'm in misery
We made a start
Now we're apart
There's nothin' left for me
Love has flown
All alone I sit
And wonder whyi-yi-yi
Oh why you left me
Oh Sandy

Yeah, Danny. Big mystery. We all wonder whyi - yi -yi.

I remember seeing this at the old Whitwood Theater. You could pay a buck and stay all day. Just keep watching the two movies that were playing. I think it was Grease and Foul Play, over and over. That's a lot of sodas, I'm telling you. Good thing they had "Beauty School Dropout" right there in the middle; a built in intermission...

Lots of good songs in Grease.

I got chills.
They're multiplyin'.
And I'm losin' control.
'Cause the power
you're suplyin',
it's electrifyin'!

Yeah. I got chills, too. But, I think I preferred her before, rather than her after version. That's just me, though. Still, both were good.

Anyhow, I don't think I'd seen Grease in a few years, so it was sorta nostalgic. My daughter liked all the songs, and she seemed to know some of them (we played the tape a lot when she was a baby). I told Allie that I had the album and she wants me to look for it. That's a problem, since I don't have a turntable anymore. Gotta re buy...

If Your Seeing It, It's You're Responsibility To Help Me!

I've had a terrible problem, lately. It's the accidental swapping of "your" and "you're." It's become very frustrating to me.

Your probably not seeing it as often as I do, but believe me, it's a big point of frustration for me. Spellcheck doesn't catch it, unless your using a grammar checker, too.

When I actually write, I catch most of them. I hope. But, it's been pretty common to find the mistake when you take a look at you're email or instant messages. That's where this problem really rears it's ugly head.

So, please... Please. If you see me use the wrong "yore," point it out. Please help me.

Next time we'll discuss my subtle placement choices for my commas.

Oh, really...

So, if the guy in front of me really is/was a sniper in the Marines, why does he drive a champagne colored RAV4?




Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

The Lost Poster

Down at the beach, there are some signs posted. Poor guy lost his kite board.

The sign has a picture of the board and lots of little tear-offs down at the bottom. So you can take Klaus's number and call to say you've got his board.

First, what are the tear-offs for? You found the board? Take the poster. If you're the guy who has it, no one else needs to see the poster. Right? Just call Klaus.

Second, why are six tear-offs torn off? Did six people really find a board that looks like Klaus's board?

Blogged via Blackberry, where backspacing is more trouble than it's worth. Please forgive any typos.

Hey! Look Who Invented The Smiley? :D

The other day, I was googling for something about emoticons and found this quote.


"I often think there should exist a special typographical sign for a smile – some sort of concave mark, a supine round bracket, which I would now like to trace in reply to your question."

Vladamir Nabokov, when asked how he ranked himself amongst living writers and those of the immediate past.


Obviously old news, but I think it's interesting that this statement (from a 1969, New York Times Interview) pre-dates computer usage, and emoticons, by so many years.

Tony's First Real Read

This weekend Tony picked out a book at the bookstore. A Goosebumps book called "Deep Trouble."

He has never liked reading before. But, he started reading this in the car on the way home. And, he never put it down until he was done.

He read it more after dinner at the restaurant, in bed, when he woke up, instead of watching a dvd, instead of playing his DS, etc. He even chose the book over fishing!

It too him 46 hours of elapsed time, according to him. Pretty speedy for a boy who's never read a real book on his own.

When he was done, he opened it up to the inside front cover and wrote "To Tommy. From Dad. I love you" and asked Kim (his Mom) if she would save it for him so he could give his first book to his son, someday. He likes the name "Tommy," I guess... Who knew?

The OC You Can't See

OC is one glamorous place! Shiny and clean and filled with the most beautiful people in the State of California. I mean, they didn't make a TV show about Stockton*, did they?

I had a pretty glamorous time Friday night! On Friday, the kids' school had it's annual Beach Blanket Blast. BBB is a carnival, of sorts, with a beach theme and plenty of wet and watery activities. Good thing, too. It was 97 degrees! And, much of the BBB is held on the blacktop playground.

My kids' school, in Rancho Santa Margarita, is deep behind the "Orange Curtain," where its streets, medians, and house colors are safely protected by the strict rules and regulations of numerous Homeowners Associations. It's almost too bad. So little creativity; a blessing and a curse. But, at least it makes sure the houses are so ugly.

I don't really go back there and mingle with people much, anymore. I go to pick up the kids, hang out with a friend or two, then move on. So, it was nice to see all the people that I'd missed over the past year or so.

Lately, we hear so much about the obesity epidemic. Everyone's getting fatter! Well, not in the OC (home of the beautiful people, remember?). In the OC, things are different. In the OC, they pass the obesity plague around like a bacterial infection that's not exactly fatal. You get it, then you get better, infect someone else, then get it again. I saw so many people who'd lost weight since I saw them last. Unfortunately, I saw an equal amount who'd put on plenty of pounds.

As to glamor (again), this event was not glamorous. It was a beach themed carnival. So, I can hardly expect people to be dressed up. Instead, we see the worst of the worst when it comes to fashion. People just don't know how to dress. Board shorts? Fine. Striped Board shorts and a t-shirt? Fine. Hawaiian shirt? Not my choice, but fine enough with board shorts. But, how do you even get out of the house with blue and orange striped shorts and a green and red Hawaiian shirt? Don't you have a wife? No? Well, you're not gettin' one, either!

Okay. Two words. Fanny. Pack. What's even in that thing? Cell phone? Nope. Clipped to the belt of said fanny pack... nice touch. The carabiner is pretty cool, too.

Work and personal cell phones. I'm sorry, too. I'm also saddled with a huge work phone. A primitive, full keyboard Blackberry. But, if I want to be fashionable, I put it in my pocket. That's why God made cargo pants and shorts; for you, Mr. Two Cell phone. Granted, God also made belts. But you really shouldn't wear them for a beach party. And, if you're not wearing the belt, you really can't have two cell phones hanging off of it, either.

Sandals and socks. The socks could have been black. I'll give you that much. Good work, fella.

You know, so far I'm really just talking about one guy, by the way. But, there were plenty of them that had various aspects of this ensemble. The Omega Males. Portly, multi-hued, cell phone laden, fanny pack wearing men; slowly leading up the rear so the Alpha Males can focus on bigger, better things (I guess we can thank them?)

Just like the Omega Males, there are females in sad states, too. The bigger they are, the louder the clothes. The louder the clothes, the louder the voices, too. I don't get this. I was big once. I focused on vertical stripes or none at all. Blend in. Muted colors or black from head to toe. And, I was quiet.

People needn't be ashamed of their bodies. But, there's quite a difference between having a few to lose while wearing shorts and a t-shirt and proudly parading a huge muffin top and camel toe at a school carnival. The former is living, the latter is... wrong?

Another thing that I noticed on Friday. The larger the women were, the more overtly sexual and suggestive things flew out of their mouths. This was particularly true as the groups got larger. They seemed to feed off of one another and egged each other on and attempting to quietly and "subtley" cat call the men who walked by. Very subtle, ladies.

The thing that struck me most was the endless string of fashion faux pas. Again, it's a beach party. It seems the easier thing to dress for. But, everyone wants to kick it up a notch. Hula skirts, every loud shirt with even one flower, bad shorts, and the endless scratch-slap, scratch-slap, of rubber zorries hitting the ground were about all that I could take.

Thank God for the kids. With all the water around, the kids were staying fashionable in shorts and bathing suits. T-shirts here and there. All in all, pretty tame and pretty fashionable. I can only assume it's because kids grown out of their clothes before the fashion changes. Or, maybe they know better and refuse to leave the house "dressed like that." Who knows? But, maybe they do just know better.

Maybe that's why the kids beg to run off with friends as soon as they get to the party. Not to be alone, but to be away from all all the adult "fashion?" Something to think about as you watch your kids run off with their friends. They are laughing, right? Think about it.


* since The Big Valley, at least. Audra was pretty hot...

Where Are They, Dammit?

All my old recipes are just gone. Not that there were that many that I loved, but I was going to make Chicken with 40 Cloves of Garlic (everyone's got a recipe, but I liked mine).

It wasn't that hard to make. Something like this...

1 chicken, cut up
2 tablespoons olive oil
40 cloves of garlic (not peeled, but separated from the head)
1/2 cup vermouth or dry white wine
salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Season chicken with salt and pepper. Toss with a 2 tablespoons olive oil and brown on both sides in a wide fry pan or skillet over high heat. Remove from heat. Add vermouth and garlic cloves. Cover tightly and bake for 1 1/2 hours.

The garlic cloves are pretty good squeezed onto bread, but don't do it. Bread is the devil.


Back to my problem... So, I only noticed that this was gone because I looked for it. What other recipes are lost forever? What recipes will I never remember? Bummer.

OMG

I'm at a poetry reading. Purely by accident. I would never knowingly attend something like this.

It's got an open mic component going on. It's really horrible...

The headliner cancelled. It's all open mic, now. No one knows when to clap. These people put dramatic pauses in at innopportune times, yet never seem to end.

We've got an unusual mixture of vegans, smoking up a storm out on the patio, and talking their PETA talk. Inside, oldsters are gathered around complaining about the slow going here. It's not organized, per se. There are several, seemingly normal people here, too.

The have three "leaders" at this thing. An old skinny guy that's waaaay to educated to be rubbing it in with such big words, a modern day beatnik with a kangol rather than a beret, and a stunningly beautiful woman who must really want me (I tire of that...). Only the beatnik seems normal, like he's not taking himself too seriously.

Right now, there's a bearded lady talking at the mic. That's correct. A little white beard. Not just a few hairs. Her poem is about fruit flies mysteriously eating her cheese. Cheese flies, I'd call them.

Eli was up, just before. He spent his four minutes setting up his schtick. He has a big floppy hat, plaid pants, and a peacoat that's strangely big, yet too small to button. He sets up an amp and plays music over the speaker as he sets up. I think it's his act. The oldersters think he's taking too long to start. I think he's almost over. It's his performance art. One minute of a child crying "Mommy, I want to go home" plays. Eli apologizes for playing the wrong thing. He introduces himself and pushes a button. A song starts. Eli plays the violin along with the music. He's pretty good. Then it's over. He apologizes for being out of breath.

I'm skipping the reviews of two typical boring ones.

Freestyle White Rapper up right now. He raps about how he's a black poet rapper on the inside. That's not obvious. It must be deep inside. Trapped. That was the worst thing I ever sat through.

This is like a 90s SNL skit. You know how they were sorta funny, then didn't really have an ending? That's where I am. 1992, I think.

I'm skipping the reviews of two typical boring ones. I need more "acts" to keep my attention.

There's a bilingual one going on at the moment. It's very awkward. How is the guy breathing in that shirt? The buttons are almost popping.

In case you're wondering, I won't be doing any poety here at the coffee house.

Here at the coffee house
People are reading
This is so awkward
I'm thinking of leaving
Burma Shave

I'm about out of here. I feel bad. Is it better to mosey during a "good" one or a bad one?

Low Carb Cheesecake?

Over at JP's, Brenda suggested that I channel my cheesecake efforts into a low carb variety. I said "low carb cheesecake is like having a beautiful girlfriend that smells funny."

But, that's really a problem with taking most traditional carb-rich foods and translating them to low carb. They are never quite right. I thought I'd start from scratch, instead.

The biggest hurdle is really the crust. Cookies and crackers have no good lower carb substitution. Does it need crust at all? Maybe not. It needs something. A contrast of textures. A difference in mouth feel. Otherwise it's pudding. Pudding is not sensual. Cheesecake is.

Here's what spurred my change of heart. I've had vanilla on my mind. I'm smelling it everywhere. I imagine it. I'm dwelling on it. It's not the number one ice cream flavor for nothing. It seems basic to think about, but it's not so basic when you really smell or taste the good vanilla.

I have a small jar of Madagascar vanilla beans. I hate to open it because it's like I'm letting it all out. It smells heavenly. I can't not open it, either, because it smells heavenly.

But, with vanilla on my mind, I set to work on a cheesecake that so good that you won't care about the carbs that aren't there. A little non-traditional twist, here and there, but a cheesecake base so you know what you've got.

So, I've got a base recipe to work on, now. Whipped up a batch of filling, today. Made a crustless little number, to start. Vanilla bean cheesecake filling. Let's just say that it's a good thing I only made a little bit. I don't care how low carb it is, 1000 calories of low carb in a sitting is bad. And, this was bad. Naughty maybe. I wanted more.

Now for the contrasting element. I've got a few ideas. A few weeks of fiddling and perfecting, and you should see something good posted up here.

So, I guess it is possible, Brenda... There's hope for having a beautiful girlfriend that smells heavenly.

Speedy Quick! (Update)

The movie was the new Pirates...

We're missing the best part, I'm sure!

There really was no "best part."

I hope no one gives that DVD to my kids, they loved it and would watch it way to much for me. Like one more time.

Speedy Quick!

Wouldn't you think the goal of the concession stand guy at the movies would be to be speedy? We're missing the best part, I'm sure!

rainy day adventure

What type of person are you? You show up in a new and exciting city, New York, for instance. You're dressed and ready to go walk around and find something interesting, but you get downstairs and it's raining. Do you go back up to your hotel room and watch tv? Or, do you head out anyway, with no umbrella (California people don't use umbrellas much. I don't even have one.).

I used to choose the room, but now I'm looking forward to getting my hair wet in a strange city. A little water doesn't hurt, but leaving adventure behind does.

I've been safe and warm too long. Time to get out there and get my feet wet, literally or figuratively.

Of course, my first stop might be an umbrella stand. Or, maybe a store that sells those hats with the flaps. It's a strange city, I won't see anyone I know...

Have The Courage To Cook Simply -- Cilantro Pesto

Over the past few weeks, I've talked to quite a few people about cooking. I love to cook, always have. Lately, I've gotten the cooking bug back. Back with a vengeance, too. I'm always thinking of what I'm going to be cooking later. Always talking about it, apparently.

Some of my friends just don't cook. When I asked them why, it's obvious that they are intimidated. But, cooking is easy. They just don't know it. Grab half the cookbooks on the shelf of a bookstore and you'll see so many ingredients and steps that the newbie puts it back and heads to the drive through.

But, here's the secret. Keep it simple. Cook simply. Food is good. Fancy food isn't always better, it's just different. When in doubt, keep it simple. There are a few simple little things you can make and keep handy that make basic foods better. My number one such thing is a condiment called pesto.

Pesto means "paste" in Italian. In it's most simple and traditional form, pesto is a paste of fresh basil, garlic, olive oil, Parmesan cheese, and pine nuts. But remember, we're talking simple here. And, simple means you have to be able to find it all easily. Sometimes you can't find enough fresh basil at the supermarket to make a batch of pesto without breaking the bank. Pine nuts are expensive, too.

In Southern California, you can always find cilantro, the basic, staple herb of Mexican cooking. Sunflower seed kernels are pretty easy to find, too. Cotija cheese is a crumbly cheese in the cheese section of most grocery stores, but if you can't find it, go with Parmesan.

Finally, but most importantly, this is about you trying to impress someone, right? Lots of people have had the traditional basil pesto. The last thing you want to hear when you serve your meal is some "best pesto I ever had" story about some Italian restaurant that may or may not have been on a date...


Cilantro Pesto
2 cups of firmly packed cilantro leaves
1 large garlic clove
4 tablespoons raw or toasted sunflower seed kernels, divided
1/4 cup plus 2 tsp. extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup crumbled cotija (or Parmesan) cheese plus additional for garnishing

Using food processor (or a knife or blender (see below), which is harder, but still doable), blend cilantro leaves, the garlic clove, 2 tablespoons of the seeds, the the crumbled cotija cheese, and the 1/4 cup olive oil until the mixture is smooth. Add additional oil in small amounts, if necessary, to make a smooth paste.

Knife Pesto -- you sometimes find pesto made by chopping alone in some fancy restaurants. You just chop, chop, chop the ingredients, then chop some more.

Blender Pesto -- lots of little pulses, scrape down, pulse, scrape down, repeat for what seems like forever. A food processor is so much easier...

Serving the pesto

Once you have the pesto made, there are so many ways to use it. You'll like it so much that you'll want to make extra. Down at the bottom of this blog entry, check out a few storage methods, so you don't have to make the pesto every time you want to eat it.

Use the pesto for anything, but here are a few ideas. Remember, the pesto has a strong and robust taste, keep the foods pretty simple. That's why this is easy. The chicken may be the biggest thing on the plate, but the pesto is the main ingredient.

• Top some grilled chicken with your pesto and serve with hot grilled vegetables, like zucchini, summer squash, and bell peppers
• Toss some hot pasta with a little olive oil and a few tablespoons of pesto. Throw in some diced or shredded chicken or pork for a complete meal.
• Grill some corn on the cob, straight on the barbecue or grill. Give it a light coating of pesto just before serving.
• How about some gourmet quesadillas or tacos? Nothing run of the mill about a taco that's been spread with a thin layer of pesto before you fold the tortilla around the simple steak, chicken, or shrimp filling. Or, rather than guacamole next to a quesadilla, place a large spoonful of pesto there, instead. A tiny salad of diced avocado, bell peppers, red onion, and a bit of pesto for dressing brings it all together.
• Pesto, thinned with a bit of half and half makes an excellent, creamy salad dressing, too.
• Stir pesto into tortilla soup or fresh or jarred salsa for a change of pace.

Whatever you serve, a little extra crumbled or shaved cheese and a sprinkling of sunflower seeds makes a good garnish.

Storing the extra pesto

Pesto keeps well in the refrigerator, but, it turns dark very quickly. Use the tallest, narrowest jar you can find and pack it down. Just before it goes in the refrigerator, pour just enough olive oil over the top so that air cannot come in contact with the pesto. Cover the jar and put it away for up to a week.

For longer storage of your pesto, freeze it. I like to use an old ice cube tray to make pesto cubes, then break them out into a large ziplock bag. Thaw them in the refrigerator overnight, before using them. You can use the microwave, but be careful, go slow, and don't nuke them until they are hot, just thawed. ...and never use these trays for ice cubes again!

Thank you for stopping by...

Okay, so I hope you enjoy what you can do with cilantro pesto. It's easy and unexpected. Having some handy can make a simple meal pretty good. Pesto is not something that most people expect to be served at someone's home, so you'll be in a good position. Someday, they'll regale someone else with the story of "the best pesto I ever had," so be happy that it will have been served by you.

I've been busy

And, I have virtually nothing to say...

Mahi Mahi with Red Pepper Sauce & Summer Squash

I made this for my father, just the other night. He practically licked the plate clean.


Mahi Mahi with Roasted Pepper Sauce and Summer Squash


Mahi Mahi

4 Mahi Mahi fillets
¼ cup sesame seeds
1 tbsp light olive oil
½ tsp salt


Roasted Pepper Sauce

3 large red or yellow bell peppers
1 tsp olive oil
¼ cup chopped onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 fresh large basil leaves or ½ tsp dried basil
¼ tsp cayenne pepper
¼ tsp black pepper
1 cup chicken broth
½ cup cream
salt to taste
sesame seeds for garnishing

Summer Squash

4 small zucchini
4 small yellow summer squash or crookneck squash
1 red or yellow bell pepper
3 tsp light olive oil, divided
Salt and pepper to taste
2 fresh basil leaves (optional)


Directions:


Roasted Pepper Sauce

Roast peppers over open flame, on the grill, or in the broiler. Keep turning them until the surface is charred and mostly black. Immediately seal in tupperware or ziplock bag for ten to twenty minutes. Submerge them in cold water and rub the skins off with your hands. A lot of blackened spots will remain. Cut open peppers and remove seeds. Coarsely chop the peppers.

In medium saucepan over high heat, combine oil, roasted peppers, onion, garlic, basil, salt, cayenne pepper and black pepper; cook 3 minutes.

Add broth to the pepper mixture and heat to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, about 5 minutes.

Remove from heat and pour mixture into a blender jar. Let stand for 5 minutes. Blend until smooth. Add cream to blender and blend for a few seconds to mix.

Salt to taste.

If made ahead, keep the sauce warm, but do not allow it to boil.


Summer Squash

Cut zucchini and summer squash into 2 inch long pieces. Slice each segment, lengthwise, into 8 to 10 strips.

Seed the bell pepper and cut lengthwise into 2 inch strips.

Heat 1 tsp olive oil in a skillet over high heat. When oil is very hot, add half of the squash to skillet. The squash should not be crowded in the pan or it will steam. At most, you should be able to see equal amounts of squash and skillet bottom.

Stir often, but allow the squash to brown in spots. Repeat with 2nd half of the squash, then with the bell pepper. Combine vegetables and salt and pepper to taste.

Serve squash on small salad plates or bowls, garnished with finely slivered basil leaf (if you only have dry basil, then just skip it).



Mahi Mahi

Spread sesame seeds and half of the salt onto a plate. Lay filets in the seeds, coating one side only

Heat a nonstick skillet using high heat. Add olive oil and swirl. When oil begins to smoke, add the coated filets, sesame seeds down. Cook for 4 to 5 minutes on each side.

Pour ½ cup of sauce into rimmed plates or shallow flat bowls. Carefully, lay a filet onto the center of each plate, sesame seeds up. Sprinkle sauce and filets with additional sesame seeds.

May 20th, 2003

Meredith Lee Hudson
1938 - 2003

Dear Mom,

There are so many things that I should have told you, and now you're gone.

For so many years, you were a good friend, in addition to being my mother. Even as a child and a teenager, when other kids my age would be embarrassed by their mother, I wasn't.

I enjoyed the weird books that you had around; that I read. In a way, I enjoyed the weird spelling habits that I picked up from those books. To this day, I have to correct myself of some of my more colourful spelling habits. Some are a grey area, and I let them slide...

The last few years, when you lived off in Montana, we were not close. At least not like we were in the past. I don't know how typical this is of mother/son relationships. Maybe very. I could have done more.

I thought of you every day, even when I didn't call. You were important to me then, and continue to be, today. Montana was far, but there was little excuse for me to stay away so long. You're farther from me now, but you are still close to my heart.

I love you,

Your son

Cooked Greens Salad with Flattened Meatballs

Makes about 4 servings (maybe 3-ish…)

Flattened Meatballs
1 lbs misc. ground meat (½ lbs beef, ½ pork, for instance)
½ red onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced (reserve a small amount for the salad)
2 tbsp paprika
1 tbsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried oregano, rubbed between palms
4 basil leaves, minced
1 tsp salt
Fresh ground pepper

Salad *
1 large bunch of collard greens, cleaned
1 tsp olive oil or reserved pan drippings
½ red onion, sliced into thin strips
Reserved garlic
1 tbsp water
Salt and pepper to taste


Directions:

Meatballs

In a large bowl, mix all the meatball ingredients together with your hands. Form the meat into 12 meatballs. Flatten them into oblong patty shapes.

Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Cook the flattened meatballs until they are browned on both sides. If possible, only turn the meatballs once. When cooked, drain the meatballs on paper towels.


Salad

Slice the collard greens across the ribs into strips that are about a ½ inch wide.

Heat a large lidded pan over medium high heat. Add the oil or pan drippings. Add the onions and cook until the onions are soft, but not browned. Add reserved garlic and stir fry for about 30 seconds. Add water and collard greens. Lightly stir or toss to coat the greens. Cover and turn heat to low. Check the greens every minute for doneness. They cook quickly. They are done when they have slightly wilted but are not soft. We’re looking for a salad feel here…

Immediately remove the pan from heat and immediately plate the greens onto salad plates so they stop cooking. Salt and pepper the greens to taste.

Arrange three of the flattened meatballs onto each plate of greens.

Eat.


* Sometimes, collard greens are hard to find. The salad works well with salad greens or spinach, too. Just don’t cook them. You’ll need a dressing. Thinned yogurt, some pan drippings, and salt/pepper sounds good.

Hazy Saturday

Sand Challenge and Beach Cleanup done. I kicked ass. I was in the top three, at least. One bastard effortlessly longjumped right past my lead. Only a few inches, but he just did it. I had to work hard to get that far.

I ate it on one dune. I'm uncomfortable sandy.

On the cleanup, I found:

• 1 squash, whole
• 100s of tiny ziplocks
• 1 larger baggy of questionable content

Too hazy for beaching it. But, I forgot my wallet. The $1.87 in my ashtray isn't quite enough for a fun morning on 2nd street. Home it is.

It's 11:20, but I still haven't decided on my plan. The relatives sounded tired and zonked when I called. Maybe another time...





Blogged via Blackberry, where backspacing is more trouble than it's worth. Please forgive any typos.

Drive Time

It's a good thing I love driving, because there's been plenty lately. More to come.

Work's been simply crazy with zig-zagging across Orange County from one client to another, only to often head back to the first at the end of the day! Luckily the weather's been good enough for the top to be down.

Tomorrow, it's down to San Diego for a pretty full day. Luckily, I love the gyms down there. I have the best workouts in San Diego 24 Hour Fitness. Maybe it's the change of scenery?

A combination of guilt about work and a desire to not train for it has caused me to abandon the 7 hour drive up and back, just to run a 10k at 8,000 feet. I don't feel all that guilty about it and I justify it by knowing that my coworker now gets to take Friday off to do something important with his kids, rather than work while I drove to Reno.

Instead, I will take a shorter drive to visit some relatives and relax. Road trip starts after the Sand Challenge on Saturday, after which I'll head to Cuyucas and the relatives for the night. On the way back, it's a stop in Santa Barbara at my sister's place.

I love to drive, but it's weird to dread a beautiful drive for work and look forward to a similar drive on the weekend. It's not even the destination. Sometimes I just drive on the weekend, and stop wherever I like. No destination, but still fun. How long 'til Friday?

Our Food Focused Lives

We are a nation, a world, a people obsessed with food. I certainly am. It's a constant struggle to not eat more and more. More and more good, good food.

We need food, but we need so many other things, too. But, I don't know anyone obsessed with air, for instance.

This weird obsession takes so many different directions. The recent Baskin Robbin's Anniversary highlights this obsession.

On May 2nd, Baskin Robbins 31 Flavors offered scoops for a mere 31 cents. That's quite a deal. I watched people line up in a huge line. It was a really long line. Really long. All to save how much? A buck or so?

Really, how much does a scoop cost on May 3rd, when the line is shorter? Splurge, already.

I could almost understand the mentality if the people were truly celebrating the anniversary, but they were just getting the scoops and leaving. They didn't look any happier than normal.

One guy pulled up in his car and called out "Are you limited to one scoop each?" No, apparently. So, he parked and got in line. 35 minutes later, he was somewhere near the front, about to be saving around two bucks (he's not limited to just one scoop, after all).

Tortilla Soup (or for me, just Soup)

In Mexico, Tortilla Soup is like “leftover soup,” like Minestrone is to Italians or Chop Suey is to imaginary Chinese people.

Since the soup is historically made of leftovers and remnants, you can toss in practically anything you have handy in the way of vegetables or meat, and still feel pretty good about having an authentic dish.

Also, Mexicans often usually use up their older, drier, day-old tortillas that aren't so tasty for tacos anymore. The tortillas that we eat from the supermarket are already at that stage, so don’t sweat waiting for your tortillas to get old… They’re already there.

This soup is great for families like mine, where I eat low carb and avoid starches and grains for the most part, while my kids don’t. Everyone doctors up their own bowl just the way they like it, so everyone’s happy. I leave the tortillas out of my bowl of Tortilla Soup, so it sounds odd to still call it “Tortilla Soup,” but what are going to do?

In the US, we tend to save soups for cooler fall and winter weather. In Mexico, soup is an everyday, year-round dish. So, why wait?

Makes about 6 Servings

Soup
1 onion, chopped
6 cloves garlic, peeled (broken is OK)
1 tsp olive oil
1 tbsp paprika
1 tbsp New Mexico chili, ground
28 oz can stewed whole tomatoes
6 cups chicken stock
2 zucchini, or crookneck squash, etc., quartered lengthwise & sliced *
2 carrots, quartered lengthwise & sliced *
2 ears of corn *
2 bay leaves
1/4 teaspoon sugar
salt
thick tortilla chips or homemade fried tortilla strips (about 6 tortillas worth of fried strips)

* if you don't eat any of these vegetable, leave them out or pick something else, like some colorful bell peppers or a second type of summer squash. Anything goes, but a few different colored vegetables make it look that much better than just one.


Garnishes (use some or all, it's up to you):

• limes wedges
• shredded cabbage
• grilled, roasted, or rotisserie chicken (the bagged ones from the market deli work well), cut or shredded into bite size pieces
• diced avocado
• cilantro, chopped
• salsa
• hot sauce
• shredded jack, cheddar, or some fancy Mexican cheese
• crumbled cotija cheese
• cubes of cream cheese
  

Directions:

Saute onion and garlic over medium heat until soft. Add paprika and chili. Cook until fragrant (1-3 minutes). Add tomatoes and 1-2 cups stock. Use an immersion/stick blender (or pour into a standard blender) to puree the ingredients.

Add the tomato mixture and the rest of the broth to a soup pot and bring to a simmer.

Add bay leaves, carrots, and zucchini and simmer for about 20-30 minutes, until vegetables are cooked, but carrots are not mushy.

While soup is simmering, reheat the chicken, if using and prepare your chosen garnishes.

Cut corn from the ears and add to the soup during the last five minutes of cooking.

To serve, add tortilla chips or strips to the bottom of the soup bowls and ladle soup over them.

Top with desired garnishes.

Eat.

Studying for a Certification

So, in my head, I've started the process. I plan to take the exam for the NSCA-CPT (Certified Personal Trainer with the National Strength & Conditioning Association) in a few months.

First, before I move on, a "thanks" to all of you who've supported me in this. I've barraged a few of you with PMs and emails and got lots of great advice and encouragement back, too. So, again, "Thank You!"

I was torn about which certification to get. Primary choices were NSCA-CPT or NASM-CPT. I still don't know if one is better than the other. There seems no clear cut answer. But, two things, outside of the cert itself, weighed in favor of my choosing the NSCA direction.

1. I know several people who have recently taken the NSCA-CPT exams who've offered to help me when I need it.
2. Some of those same people have given me much of their study materials, DVDs, and CDs to help me get started. That saves a lot of money, right there.

As to the cert itself, I don't know if it's the better choice. But, I also have no problem with looking into other certs down the road. I enjoy the process of learning about fitness and nutrition, so who's to say the philosophies of another group's certification won't be just as enlightening? And, to be honest, I'm not sure that this will definitely lead to a career in fitness. This is as much about learning for myself as for anything. I want to do it. What I want to do with it, comes secondary.

I don't yet have a handle on when I'll take the exam. I need to get a grip on the depth of studying involved. I've never been much of a studier. I read and remember, but going back to study is a problem for me. Somehow, I feel like I'll need to adjust... This isn't like college, where I could trick myself into studying by joining the Cute Girls' Study Group.

Down the road, I might also be interested in a nutrition cert. I don't fully know my options, at this point, but I'd also like to look into some sort of nutritional certification. I doubt if they will provide the nutritional knowledge that I really want, but I also want to be aware of what's being taught in the real world. What other trainers teach about nutrition. I have my own ideas on diet, but you also need to "know the rules before you can break them." I will want any clients to know that my mind isn't closed to new ideas and that I've done my homework. A current (or past) nutritional cert at least shows that I was willing to learn before I just make up my own philosophy on the subject.

My goals as a future trainer are primarily focused on fat loss, but I really want to look at it from a different angle. Having been fat, I realize that my workouts were really just a tool to help me get lean and fit. I was a sad boy. Looking back, that was really the root of my issues. I don't yet have a handle on why I was sad, but I was. I'm much happier now. And, not fat...

The other day, I posted "Fat & Happy?"over at the JPFitness forums. That post sums it up for me, for the most part.

I like to help people. I'd like to help sad people be happy. I feel connected to this certain group of sad people, so I hope I can connect with them in my own way.

I'll never be a psychologist or psychiatrist, so I'll dispense with psychiatric advice, other than to encourage people to look to the root of the issue and start to fix things down there. For me, the root issue was being unhappy. I can't prove it, but somehow I feel like I can pick out unhappy people just as they are walking down the street. There's something about them. Not in the face or eyes, but in the size of their clothes.

In My Head All Day: Daydream Believer

Daydream Believer -- The Monkeys

Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings
Of the bluebird as she sings
The six o'clock alarm would never ring
Whoops it's ringing and I rise
Wipe the sleep out of my eyes
My shavin' razor's cold and it stings

Cheer up, sleepy Jean
Oh, what can it mean
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen

You once thought of me
As a white knight on his steed
Now you know how happy I can be
Oh, and our good times start and end
Without dollar one to spend
But how much, baby, do we really need?

Cheer up, sleepy Jean
Oh, what can it mean
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen
Cheer up, sleepy Jean
Oh, what can it mean
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen

Black Beans with Sofrito

I haven't been cooking much until just recently. I used to cook all the time, but for some reason, I haven't been in the mood. Well, I am now.

I'm starting with this one because it's the best one. Not just my best one. It's the best black bean recipe. Anywhere.

If you like beans, you'll love these. If you are a fan of black beans, then I feel sorry for all the other poor saps that serve you their black beans. Other beans may still be edible after these, but you may wonder why you bother.

These aren't side dish beans. Serve them with some chicken and grilled veggies as the sides...

These seem complicated, but give them a shot. They are easy, just take it step by step. After you do it once, you'll know how easy beans are to make.


Black Beans with Sofrito

First, what's a sofrito? It's a blend of vegetables, herbs, and spices, cooked on the side and then stirred into the beans near the end. Seems like work, huh? It's worth it. Don’t shortcut and just dump it all in earlier. You might not think it matters, but trust me, it does.

I often make these in a slow cooker. When I do, I reduce the water by one cup. They have to cook for a lot longer, but you don't have to watch them to make sure they don't burn or stick.

If using a conventional pot, try to use one with a heavy bottom to insure even heat across the bottom. A thin-bottomed pot can cause the beans to stick in the center, then burn.

Pasilla chilis aren't too spicy, and you’re only using two for the whole pot. You shouldn't be afraid of the heat. But, they might be hard to find, I suggest two red bell peppers, instead. There will be a subtle taste difference, but they will be terrific. I can never decide which way to make them. Each way is different, but equally good.


Beans
1 lb. dried black beans
½ lbs. salt pork or a ham hock
1 medium white onion, finely chopped
7 cloves garlic, minced
6 cups water (5 in a slow cooker)
1 pasilla* chili, seeded and halved
2 bay leaves
1½ tsp salt

Sofrito
1 pasilla* chili, seeded and chopped
1 medium white onion, chopped
5 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp olive oil
1 tbsp cumin seed, ground
1 tbsp dried oregano
1½ tsp. salt

1 tbsp fresh lime juice
chopped cilantro (optional)

* You can substitute other chilis, or even green or red bell peppers, if desired


Directions:

Pick through beans, discarding all non-bean material and any beans that are broken or strange looking. Rinse beans and add to the pot.

Rinse salt pork and add to pot. Add onion, chili or bell pepper, salt, bay leaves, and water.

Bring beans to a low boil, cover, and then simmer slowly, stirring occasionally until beans are the desired tenderness (tender but not splitting or falling apart), about 1 ½ to 2 hours. You may have to add more water periodically. The only downside, if you add too much is saucier beans…

Remove the chili/pepper and ham hock/salt pork. Unless the salt pork or ham hock is very meaty, discard it. If it is meaty and you actually like to eat it, you can cool it a bit and pull the meat off and shred it with a fork. Then add it back to the beans.

Make sofrito by sauteing the chili, onion, and garlic until soft.

Add the ground cumin and oregano and saute about a minute, until fragrant. Remove from heat.

Mash 1 cup of the beans with a fork or potato masher (or, alternately, lightly blend 1 cup of the beans and 1 cup of bean liquid in a blender). If you have a stick or immersion blender, use it now. Just stick it in and very briefly pulse 2-3 times. Careful, you can always do more later, but you can never bring the beans back if you do it too much.

Add mashed beans back to the rest of the beans in the pot (unless you used the immersion blender…)

Add sofrito to the bean pot.

Simmer beans, uncovered, another 20 to 30 minutes until thickened to the desired consistency.

Add lime juice and cilantro and stir.

In your world, you serve the beans over rice, if desired. In my world, I just eat them. Why waste calories on rice when there's a whole pot of beans?

The Rime of the Ancient Dieter

Food, food, everwhere, nor any reasonably sized serving to eat. -- The Rime of the Ancient Dieter

So, I ran out of food while I was out. I pull into a supermarket, rather than hit a fast food place.

I'm currently eating things like meat, eggs, nuts, cheese, and vegetables. I cruise through the store and realize that despite being surrounded by food, there's very little that I can just buy and eat without throwing out the leftovers.

Supermarkets really have no single sized servings of anything healthy. I can get a couple of veggies to eat. But, what am I going to do with the extra cheese or lunch meat?

I head to the deli counter. The salads are crap, in a purely delicious but unhealthful manner, of course. I can get a single serving of meat or cheese there. Even some hardboiled eggs from the salad bar, but as I add it all up in my head, I realize that this is saving me nothing. And, it's not really as tasty as the bunless Double Cheeseburger and side Caesar that I passed up at Wendy's.

So I head out, spot an In 'N Out Burger and hork down on two cheeseburgers, protein style, extra tomatoes, pickles, and grilled onions and a huge ass Diet Coke.

Articulated Bus

I loved this scene in Stranger Than Fiction.

It takes that awkward boy/girl meeting to a whole new level.





I thought it was amazing only to me, since when I talk about it, I just get a blank stare in return. But, if you google "articulated bus stranger than fiction," it seems that there are a lot of people that liked it.

Enjoy.

Man, they ruin everything...

Ever since I was a kid, I loved going to A&W. I remember how fun it was to have the food brought out to your car, with those little window trays, and root beer floats. Good stuff.

There aren't too many of the drive up ones around. I know there's one in Paso Robles. I make a point to stop there when I'm in that area, but that's pretty rare.

The last few months, I've noticed a sign for an A&W in my area. I was sure it wasn't going to be like the old ones, but one can hope for the best.

But, it gets built and opened up and I find that it's not only a normal looking fast food place with bright lights and a drive thru, it's also a combination KFC. That's nice, huh? Ruin my memories. Go ahead.

I understand the monetary reasons for doing these combination stores, but keep it to the places that I could care less about. There are enough Taco Bell/Pizza Huts around to cover the unrelated foods category without digging into my memories and ruining the nostalgia.

Enough!

This is pathetic! A million posts about love. One post about something else. It's about an ice tea despenser that pissed me off.

This must end.

When Does Like Become Love?

I was speaking to a friend at work about some girl he likes. I say loves. He says like. He's trying to move on, but he's having a tough time of it.

Not that it makes it any easier, but I point out that he already loves the girl. He says "no," that he could love her if _______. It doesn't even matter what you fill the blank in with, does it? How is it this not love already? He's kidding himself.

Part of the kidding of one's self might be some misguided concept about the purity of love. That love is some rational feeling that we come to after weighing the pros and cons and knowing what we are getting into.

But, I really think it's more of a defense mechanism. If he's not "in love" then he's not going to be "as hurt." Won't work. I've been not in love plenty of times. Hurt every time.

Either way, history and literature are full of examples of unfortunate encounters with love. Most fairy tales would not even exist without our hearts guiding us, rather than our minds.

I threw some slightly twisted fairy tale examples at him.

• The peasant girl would love The Prince, if only he wasn't The Prince.
• If only she wasn't a mermaid, Eric would love her.
• If only he wasn't The Beast...
• Looks like she's cursed to sleep forever, so I'll be moving on...

Come on, where's the romance? You don't choose who you love or set the rules for when you will.

One's own personality dictates who and when we love. Would we be better off if we could logically go up and down a list, or plug the numbers into a spreadsheet and get a solid answer? Who knows? On the surface, you'd think so. But, let's look at the process for a sec.

I think back to the girls that I've loved. I'll start with 2nd grade.

2nd grade girl was obviously more of a crush, but that crush was based on something. My class had a dozen girls, but I singled one out. I can't tell you why, but looking back at the class pic, she wasn't necessarily the cutest one, so it's looking like I started off less-than-shallow, at least.

However, in the middle of 2nd grade, I moved. I was pretty sad. For a day. New 2nd grade class, new love. Shallowness did prevail. She was the cutest and I have zero recollection that she even had a personality.

Jump to 3rd grade and I remember going for the brain, once again. But, she was also the cutest little sandbox companion. She not only brought her own magnet to school, but she also knew that it was iron ore that we were collecting from the sandbox with those magnets. Smart and pretty...

Fast forward to whenever and you realize that we are constantly leapfrogging from relationship to relationship, no matter how short, long, full, or one-sided they may be. Each hop leaves a footprint. Each hop, both consciously and subconsciously leaves us with an updated set of wants, wishes, and desires for the next Love Of Our Life.

When you meet him or her, the next potential Love, you can only hope that your head prevails earlier than your heart. It's the ones that hit so close to home that are the most troublesome and the most devastating.

I'm not sure that the spreadsheet would help. By the time you started plugging the numbers in, it's likely too late. And, if you had a spreadsheet to pick your True Love, it would have to be some sort of magical one. There's simply no way to break down all these variables into simple math formulas and values.

So, we're back to fairy tales. Using the fairy tale concept again, you'd need a spreadsheet of fairy tale magic. But, fairy tales are an old theme and spreadsheets are a modern one. And, unlike two lovers, the two concepts don't go hand in hand. Ever see a movie billed as a "modern day fairy tale?" Sucked, huh?

Anyhow, this blog just ends, with little in the way of resolution. My buddy needs to move on. The _______ may be insurmountable. Only he really knows. But moving on is what the spreadsheet says to do. But, we covered that, right? It's likely going to be the unfortunate fairy tale approach, instead. Unfortunately for him, not all fairy tales end with "happily ever after." Especially the modern day ones. They always suck.

Why Do They Even Make These?

Ice Tea Jar w/Spigot

Why do they even make these things? All they do is leak! Just who do they think they're kidding?

And, why do women keep buying them? Wishful thinking?

Big, Small, or Somewhere In Between - #5, Kiss

or The Greatest Moments In My Life

I like to spend time recollecting. That's mostly a euphemism for zoning out, but sometimes good memories come back.

Really, I spend a lot of that time thinking about some of the great times I've had. There have been some really good ones, some great ones, and some nice little moments.

Kiss

Before you continue reading, if you're a guy (or a mean girl) who's going to make fun of me for this one, go ahead and click on that little red x in the upper right corner of the window and go away!

More romance. Short and sweet, and very memorable to me. But it might come across as strange. I think it makes me look like a wuss. Like I might like chick flicks and romance and all that crap. But, I do. If you don't, then you probably already got bored with this guy's blog.

Before I start, I bring your attention to "way back when" sometime, when I wrote about some of my more memorable moments in life (Say Anything" Moments and Great Moments in Dating). I can't believe the one coming up didn't make it to my GMiD. Of all my "moments," it brings out the most intense emotion. It's hard to put into words, but I'm going to try.

then I did the simplest thing in the world.
I leaned down... and kissed him.
And the world cracked open.

-Agnes de Mille, b. 1905-

Three Roommates. Two of Which are Jealous Bastards (Thankfully)

In college, I roomed with three other guys in a two bedroom apartment. Two of these guys were part of the family/friends from Episode #2, Wedding.

At this point, it's the end of the girl's two weeks in town. She was going back to New Mexico the next day. Roland was on cloud nine and very sad.

We had spent a lot of time together. Disneyland was our first date. Her friends told me that I totally blew it by planning to take her there, but afterward she told me it was bold. Bold worked for me, I guess. It was a great, great day.

So, after two weeks of mostly me, her friends were feeling slighted. So, while I got lots of dates and practically that whole last day to myself, it was a little awkward to say our goodbyes at my own apartment and see her leave with one of my roomies and a couple of our other friends. But, there they went.

Roland is sad. Roland goes to bed.

I reiterate. I was sad. I went to bed.

My actual room mate (the one who shared my room and was not previously mentioned) worked late and always came in quietly. I remember the light from the doorway, just like always, and I fell back asleep, just like always.

Only it wasn't my roommate.

"Wake up a little," I heard whispered. It was pitch black.

I could feel her caressing my face as she whispered for me to wake up again.

She gently lay down on the bed next to me, sighing and nestling in. "I only have a minute. I told them I'd be right back down."

"What are you..." She shushed me with her finger.

"I left my jacket up here," she told me.

I could smell her hair. She turned to face me and then I could feel her kissing me so deeply and so tenderly. I found that she was laying on top of me, with her arms surrounding my head on the pillow. She sighed so deeply when she kissed me and I felt so enveloped by her. It was so dark and deep and everything felt complete or whole or full. That kiss. The touch. Her smell. Each was wonderful, but it adds up to so much more. It was such a short time, but it sometimes feels like it's still happening today.

Too soon, she stood up. I could sense her reaching down way under my bed and pull something out. Her jacket.

"Bye," she whispered as she stood to leave. I could see her red-brown hair in the light, as she opened the door. She had a quirky little smile on those lips.

"Hey!" I stopped her. "Kiss goodbye?"

She gave me a a cocky little huff and smiled as the corners. "Now, what did I just do?"

"You said bye..."

And, my God, she came back!

Mmmm... Another smile, another kiss, and one more of those sighs...

Ear To Hair Ratio (E:H)

There's really no doubt about it. I have big ears. I can only pray that those stories about ears growing forever aren't true...

Over the years, I've made piece with my ears. I've come along way from getting in fights because someone called me "Dumbo."





"Lots of people with big ears are famous." -- Timothy





But, I'll admit that I've become self-conscious about them, once again. It's because now I have less hair AND I want a date. The less hair, the more ears stand out. Do I really think that my ears will stop a girl from liking me? No. But, I still hate my ears.

I'm currently not bald, but I certainly have less hair up front than I'd like. I don't want to be one of those guys that people think is kidding himself, you know? If my ears were small, I might have shaved my head by now.

A few months back, I cut my hair VERY short. Go to work, and one of my coworkers makes a crack about my huge sails in front of everyone. Asswipe. I don't think he even thought it would hurt. But, a couple of days later he was kissing my ass, so someone must have clued him in.

So, while I wish my ears were smaller and I wish I had more hair, you play the cards you're dealt, right. Which way to go? Do I increase my E:H ratio or reduce it? Tough call.

I guess when it becomes "critical" I'll already know what to do. I can't be kidding myself about these ears. I can be about the hair. Lose the hair and flaunt the ears? Which peacock gets the babes anyway, right?

My saving grace was a realization that I only remembered my ears seeming smaller. Turns out that they've always looked immense. Check out the 1990 Roland.



Same ears, more hair. I don't think the ratio was doing much for me.




I don't think the girls were lining up because of the ears, but I did okay.

Saturday Beach Ramble

You'd think that the Sand Challenge AFTER the refeed would be good, but no. I felt a little queesy at one point. I recovered, though. Kicked a little ass, but not as much as the last time.

30 Minute Beach Cleanup was afterward. Justin (the boot camp leader) is behind that, too. The were tons of people. Picked up a lot of trash. I won nothing in the raffle.

Somewhere there are pictures of me with Miss Long Beach.

I told some girl, who's the local leader of a running group, that I'd show up for a 5 mile run, 6:30pm Monday. That won't go well. But, I have to run sometime, right. 10Ks don't train themselves...

The sun's out for a while, so I'm camped out on the beach. Veggin' out for a bit. But I am getting hungry. I don't care how healthy they say their food is, Wild Oats brought out a whole table of 'healthy foods' that I had to pass on. I'll let the other 30 Minute Cleanup people eat that crap (I did have an apple and trail mix with no added sweeteners, though. 30 minutes later, it's like I had nothing...)

If you haven't listened to the latest Fitcast, do so. Not that strength, size, and brains are mutually exclusive, but Dave Tate is a smart guy. I'd never heard him talk before. Common sense and funny, too. Everyone knows Berardi's smart, so blah blah blah.

I just caught up on all the fitcasts, and this random mode isn't cutting it for my music mp3s.

This is one good weekend. Started on Friday at around 3:30, with an early start to the weekend with a friend, one of the best workouts in a while, sleep that was solid, now a Saturday that's going great.

Ramble over.






Blogged via Blackberry, where backspacing is more trouble than it's worth. Please forgive any typos.

Refeed!

Two planned meals. I feel so guilty. Sooo good, though.

Spaghetti and meatballs
Apple (huge)
Brownie
Black and white cookie

Kashi Go Lean Crunch
Special K with dried strawberries
Milk
Yogurt
Steak

Bed

Sand Challenge in the morning. Woo hoo! I'm jazzed.

Apologies...

Well, one anyway.

Somehow, my comment moderation got turned on. I'm sure I did it. But, it didn't email me or anything, so the comments just sorta sat there until someone got all huffy that her comment didn't show up. Women...

It was fun to try to find out where the 20 or so comments went, since they were weeks old and the system here doesn't tell you which comment goes with which post.

So, my apologies to you all. It might not happen again.

My Stomach & Mind Conspire Against Me

The other day, my boss needed someone to take a drive to a remote account. I used to cover that area, so I put up my hand. I have fond memories of that area. So, I head on up to take care of business.

I get up there, and notice that the place is a pit. I guess it always has been. As I'm driving around, looking for the address, I notice restaurants, taco stands, and burger joints. They bring back fond memories. I love these places. I used to eat here a lot.

Suddenly, I'm painfully reminded about how my life used to revolve around food. I found such pleasure in eating. Good food, certainly. But, there's something to be said for the "Worlds' [sic] Best Pastrami" or a great burrito served in the same little joint that whips up burgers, teriyaki, and a good gyro. You know the place. There's one around every corner.

So, here I am, 75 miles from home, but now aware that I'm here because of a fond feeling that I wish I could have left behind. Permanently.

I find the address. But, before I head in, it's time to eat. All of these great food choices are calling me, but instead of the gyro that I smell, I grab a Diet Coke in a drive-thru and park in the shade. Instead of the gyro that I would love to eat, I grab a handful of raw veggies and some hard boiled eggs from my cooler.

It's not really that the gyro would be all that much tastier. I love eggs and vegetables. But, somehow there was a feeling of comfort associated with the old foods that is lacking in the new ones. I haven't fully worked it out yet, but I'd like to think I have a new outlook on food. That I no longer turn to food for comfort or stress relief.

Unfortunately, if I'm correct, these good foods will never be able to overpower the feelings associated with the old foods. I can live with that, I guess. Life is full of plenty of other things to be passionate about. Healthier things.

In a strange, almost ironic twist, I still have a passion for cooking great food. It's not the cooking or the eating of the food that does it for me. It's the enjoyment that others get from the food. Particularly when that other is a woman. It's a healthier and more satisfying passion, but when I think on it, I almost feel like a drug pusher. After all, my goal is to stimulate an emotional response in the person for whom I'm cooking. That was my whole issue. Gotta be good and cook healthy food, I suppose...

Shoe Box Boy

There's a guy at my gym who brings his gym shoes in their original box. Every time. Guy loves his shoes...

Naturally Thin? Hah!

Today, somebody gave me crap for being so lucky to be naturally thin.

He thinks I can eat anything I want. Oh, the beauty and ignorance of new friends.

Blogged via Blackberry, where backspacing is more trouble than it's worth. Please forgive any typos.

As Long As It's Black

I remember back when I didn't like coffee at all. I worked graveyard and struggled to stay awake. All around me, people drank coffee like it was water in the desert. I tried. I hated it. I kept drinking it. Bad stuff. Turns out it was just the crappy coffee that we bought at USC. Who knew? Once I got good coffee, things changed. Now, I love coffee.

Coffee, for me, falls into two distinct categories. Gourmet coffee and diner coffee.


Gourmet Coffee

Gourmet coffee is typically associated with places like Starbucks. Only I don't like Starbucks, with the exception of the Americano (espresso and water). Starbucks coffees are roasted too dark and taste burned and/or bitter to me. It's become something of a cliche to say you don't like Starbucks. I don't know what to tell you. I still drink it. I just wish there were more choices.


My favorite coffee house was Diedrich Coffee. Unfortunately, Diedrich closed up shop and sold off to Starbucks. They still sell wholesale, and I see their signs in some of my favorite restaurants. I was sad to lose Diedrich Coffee.





Next comes Peet's Coffee. Peet's has excellent coffee, but the locations aren't all that convenient for me. They never seem very comfortable, either. Small and not relaxing. I'm sure all the other coffee houses have french presses, too. But I only get them at Peet's.

It might be hard to make good espresso at home, but with a french press, your own grinder, and some quality fresh beans, the gourmet coffee experience is pretty easy to have at home.


Diner Coffee

Diner coffee is really nothing special. It's as much about the diner and the little white mug or cup, as anything.

I like sitting in a vinyl booth. I like sitting at the counter. A window seat on a pedestal table can be nice. A brightly lit, shiny surfaced diner, with waitresses who's uniforms probably haven't been updated in 20 years. Weird little aprons with the ticket pocket up front. I like that it's a small, heavy mug that keeps getting topped off. Or, just maybe, this place has a thick ceramic cup that thunks on the saucer more than it clinks. They don't ask if you want more, they just assume that you do. It's your responsibility to stop them when you've had enough.

Although the coffee served in this place is nondescript, it's distinctive in it's own way. It's not strong and not weak. It's never bitter, and through sheer volume, it's always fresh. It's made in a machine that drips coffee out quicker than you can imagine. It puts your home machine to shame and it's capable of making hundreds of pots a day. Forever.

I suppose that because of atmosphere trumping taste, this is the coffee that you just can't do at home. You can get the cups. You'd need the thick mug or heavy cup and saucer (available at a restaurant supply store for an amazingly low price or at Williams & Sonoma or Restoration Hardware for an amazingly high price). But, that's where it stops. No vinyl booth. No plastic covered tent menus. No funny aprons. Then there's the coffee.

You'd think that the coffee isn't that important, so long as it's not that gourmet stuff. We just need joe here, after all. But, for the life of me, I can't find a coffee that measures up to a halfway decent diner's cup. They are all too good or too bad. Too strong or too weak. I've tried, but other than conning a waitress out of a few foil packets for home, there's really no way, it seems, to get the coffee I need for home.

Maybe this is a good thing. After all, the experience is the kicker. Fond memories of something so basic and silly. Sitting alone or with a friend, sipping average coffee in an environment that is virtually the opposite of what most people want from their coffee experience.

Really, if a few friends want to go out for a cup of coffee, where do they head? Joe's Diner? The local Denny's? Or the Starbucks, just down the street?

One day, I will take a road trip. It will off the beaten path, where there might still be a non-chain diner or two. I'll stop here and there, and have breakfast several times a day. I'll drink a lot of coffee.

I'm just not sure how long it would take me to get not very far on this road trip. Once I sit down, that cup will keep getting filled. And, I can drink a lot of coffee.

Coffee Trivia (Cat Poop Coffee?)

While scouring the web for pics for the main coffee blog, I found this little gem on this site.

Cat Poop

Kopi Luak, or "cat shit" coffee, drives the Nipponeese wild. The Luak is a small cat-like creature that eats ripe coffee cherries right off the tree, digests the flesh but poops the beans out whole. Somehow the fermentation undergone in the animal's stomach makes the final cleaned and roasted coffee beans taste really really good. This stuff sells for $100 per pound and is woofed down by the gallon in places like Japan and Sumatra. These guys can quaf cat ka-ka all they like, fricking wierdos.

Yum!

Food Is Fuel. Continue The March

Food is fuel. Continue the march. -- Captain Dale Dye, USMC

I love food!

There are very few things in life that bring me as much simple joy as good food. I love to eat it. I love to cook it. I really love to cook it for other people (I like the attention...).

Of course, I also realize that I love food a little too much. Hence, the fat Roland of five years back. But, it's been a long journey since I was fat. I've changed a lot of bad habits. I eat less food -- I eat better food -- and I exercise more. I'm no longer fat.

Because of my job, I keep a cooler full of food in my car. For two years now, that cooler has called my name. Reminding me that it was filled with tasty food. Just sitting there, behind the passenger seat. Taunting me. I'd often have to force myself to wait until my next meal. Watching the clock, counting down the minutes until 3 hours was up.

One day, at the gym, I was listening to a podcast of Captain Dale Dye. He doesn't talk about food, health, or fitness. He talks about our troops. I don't know how it came up, but the subject of feeding the troops in the field came up. His brief statement, "Food is fuel. Continue the march," struck a cord with me. I actually stopped lifting to write it down.

Over the next day or two, I thought a lot about that simple statement. I'm sure the guys in Iraq enjoy good food when they get it. But, they have to make do with whatever rations they can get when they are on the march, patrol, or whatever. Likely, they know they have the food handy, but just eat when they need it. It's just their fuel.

At that point, I decided to make a few adjustments to my daily food plan. I'd stick with the good foods when I had the time to cook, sit, and eat. But, when I was on the run, I decided that simple fuel was in order.

Enter the SuperShake, a concoction concocted by John Berardi. A homemade meal replacement shake. Unfortunately, the only good ones are the ones hefty enough to eat when bulking or maintaining your weight. When you're trying to lose weight, they are either tiny and unsatisfying or gross.

Re-enter the Velocity Diet shakes. I did The Velocity Diet about a year and a half ago. The shakes aren't all that great. But, they aren't bad. They just are. I remembered my V-Diet experience and what it taught me. I can survive for 28 days with nothing tasty passing my lips.

For about a month, I'd eat breakfast and dinner, but load up the cooler with three V-Diet shakes for my day. It was nice and stress free, having nothing in the cooler to look forward to.

After a while, I decided to try to add some veggies into the shakes. Gross. Back to a quasi-SuperShake. When that didn't pan out, I started eating cut up veggies with my shake. But, what I really wanted was some sort of homemade bar of protein, nuts or seeds, and veggies. It couldn't taste too good, either.

"Soylent Green is people!" I heard the familiar movie line repeated on some late night comedy show one night. That was what I needed. Soylent Green, sans the unusual protein source. I'd made some zucchini bread and zucchini bars before. It wasn't much of a stretch to make some that weren't as tasty.

I started cooking and ended up with this:

Soylent Green Bars

8 scoops Cyto-Sport Pure Whey (Vanilla Bean)
6 large omega-3 eggs
3 packs Splenda (optional)
6 tbsp flax seed, ground
15oz zucchini, cut up (about three medium squash)
2 cups frozen spinach, thawed (use frozen, not fresh. trust me.)

6 servings

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Blend eggs, squash, and spinach until very well pureed. Stir in protein powder, Splenda and flaxseed meal. Mix well.

Spray a flat baking dish (I used a 10x7 inch pan) with cooking spray and pour it in.

Bake for about 35 minutes, until a knife blade comes out pretty clean. The very center may still be a little soft when a knife blade is inserted.

Cut into 12 bars.

2 Soylent Green Bars per serving.

Nutrition (per 2 bar serving): Calories 263, Fat 11g, Carb 7g, Fiber 3.5g, Protein 33g


That's the basic version. I've got some variations (a tasty Yellow and less than tasty Red), too.

A few batches of these gets me through my week with a lot less hassle than three shakes a day. The perfect fuel.

I feel a little funny eating these things. They look weird. I explained this all to a friend at work. He saw me eating one and asked "How's the Soylent Green?" I laughed and told him that that was what I called them. He asked why I didn't just buy protein bars. Three reasons. Most are crappy for you. They are expensive. They taste too good. If they taste good, I'll just want to eat more and more of them.

For the last month, these have been my daily staple. And, you know how we start to appreciate the simple tastes of healthier food, over time? I'm afraid I'm really starting to like these bars. I've already dropped the Splenda from the recipe. The spinach is a recent add. Neither change altered the taste much. These bars are starting to be too good. How will I make them worse than they already should be? If these bars start calling to me, I'm in trouble.

Hope For The Future

It's heard all the time: the world is doomed because our children can't be trusted to lead us into (or in) the future. I'm sure this has been a popular sentiment since the Dawn of Man.

I don't have anything deep and meaningful to say, specifically, on the subject, only to say that I don't agree.

I don't really know that many "kids" other than my own. They're 9 and 10, and it's a little soon to imagine them running anything.

I interact a bit with younger people at some local coffee houses. They might be rowdy in groups, but when they actually talk to me, the same ones aren't bad. The younger gym set is about the same. Not too bad.

Over on the JPFitness forums, I've gotten to know a few of the next generation. I'd count several as friends, even. Three, in particular, have really impressed me.

One is an Eagle Scout, athlete, church goer, excellent student, etc. The guy's so busy that he really has all the room in the world to complain. He doesn't. He talks about how busy he is, then gets it all done. I wish he lived on my street so my son and I could get to know him. He's someone I could point to as a teenager with great character and strength of will. It's hard to imagine him not doing anything he wants to do in life.

Two is simply a genius (or close to it, at least). While anyone can be quick witted with a good fart joke, this girl's mind spins a more sophisticated joke faster than I can head off. And, when you think it's done, it comes around to get you from behind. It's unlikely that a good laugh will keep the world on an even keel, but it can't hurt. What really strikes me is the dedication. Again, she's busy enough that many would give up, but she hasn't. When I talk to her, her character shines right through, plain as day. I don't really know what she wants to do with her life, but she knows what she wants out of life. That's far more important, I think.

Three, I've actually met. He thinks people don't take him seriously because he's a goofball. But, we can see through that. When we met, he walked up to me, offered his hand, and introduced himself. I don't know if he could tell I was nervous to meet new people or if that's just him. Either way, a young man that takes the initiative in those situations will take the initiative in many more. He's worried because he doesn't know exactly what he wants to do. But, what he doesn't see is that he's still doing all the right things. Most people who don't know, just wait and do nothing. Analysis paralysis. I don't see that happening here. Nothing to worry about. I have to mention this guy's character, too. He does the right thing for others, even when it benefits himself less. I'm not a believer in karma, but I do believe that others see you, your character, and your actions, and give back when they can. That's better than karma in my book.

I'm sure these three aren't the only ones with this much going for them. I'm hoping they are like roaches: Where there's one, there's a thousand!

The Face

At the beach, there was an old concrete structure. Whatever it used to be, now it's just a ruin.

Someone had painted green faces on them.

These faces creep my daughter out, but they intrigue me.

Easter Pics

Allie gets her share.













Help for Evan.

















Counting the take.






The beach was where the fun was.

All in all, a great Easter weekend at my sister's. Santa Barbara was beautiful. Despite the gloomy pics, the weather was nice by each afternoon. We got to eat lunches and Easter Dinner outside on the patio, even.

Note

I have laryngitis.

Easter Weekend

Easter

I've got my kids for a long weekend. Four days, then back to work. It's been nice having them around. Next weekend, it'll be three weekends in a row.

Driving up to Santa Barbara tomorrow morning to spend the weekend at my Sister's place. This is my first attempt at actually spending time with my family again.

I even charged up the batteries for the camera so I can attempt a few snapshots. I'm not good with that stuff.


Work

Work has been crazy. It's been hard to keep my head on straight. Everyday, I get pulled in so many different directions. Which customer do I leave in the lurch? Decisions, decisions?


Gym

No workout today. I won't be hitting the gym until Tuesday night, either. I can probably do with the break on the heavier weights. But, I really like to workout.

On Tuesday night, I'm planning to try the 300 workout again. I'll do the whole thing and see what time I end up with. I predict a poor showing. My biggest concern is the floor wipers. The last time I attempted them, I got cramps in my hamstrings when I went left.

I'm trying to stay calm

Deep Breath

It's all good. Nothing bad.

I'm excited to be getting lean. I've been somewhat lean before, but I actually had to buy a new belt. A smaller one. Then, two weeks later, I moved it down a notch.

It's hard not to be excited. Is that a light at the end of the tunnel? Steady progress. Past the points of the past attempts.

This time, I told myself that I wasn't going to give up when I saw a stall in progress. Not flip out and change my plans in frustration. In the past, I'd approach leanness and suddenly nothing happened anymore. No fat loss. No weight loss. So, I turn to gaining muscle for a while, which of course adds some fat back on.

While that did end my frustration on the short term, it does nothing for the long term satisfaction. I'm never lean. Always a bit too flabby with the shirt off.

It's particularly frustrating to see my face get leaner and leaner, my arms show more veins and muscle, while the "loose" area around the waist stayed put. You can't tell with a shirt on, but shirt off, it's another story.

This time, it feels different. Long haul!



Mom

It's very strange. I never really miss my Mother.

For most of my adolescent and adult life, my Step-Mother was my Mom. Only I didn't realize it at the time.

She was quietly supportive and always loving. She was completely accepting of me. I can't pick out ANY moment when I felt less a son that her natural sons. I didn't even live there, but I still got the full son treatment.

I've always called my Step-Brothers my Brothers. I think it's safe to say that my Step-Mom is the reason why. When you're part of the family, you are just family.

The only time I really think about my natural Mother is when I consider my journey away from fatness. She was diabetic since she was 20, and she was meticulous about her diet and always stayed pretty trim. I'm sure it was really hard on her to have a chubby son. I know she tried a lot of things to encourage me to lose weight.

Coincidentally, after she moved away to Montana, I lost the weight. Of course my first time getting fit, it was almost accidental. I played so much racquetball and rode my bikes so much that it was hard to be fat. Of course, since my diet never changed (the loser at racquetball had to buy the burgers and fries), I gained it back once I was injured.

By the time she was dying and I went to visit, I was no longer thin. She died and I lost the weight again. This time, on purpose. Good nutrition and exercise.

So, sometimes, when I see myself in the mirror, I wish that she could see me. I don't think it wouldn't have changed anything. She didn't treat me badly or anything. She loved me a lot. She was just always angry and whacko, and that made it hard to really love her back. Still, I'd like to show off a little. I know she'd be relieved.

I don't know where I'm really going with this. I have no ending.

hungry

very

there's a certain satisfaction in it. it fits with the goal.

find your hunger and feel it. use it to get what you want.

if you're not hungry for it, it's not worth having.

Big, Small, or Somewhere In Between - #4, Fresh Meat

or The Greatest Moments In My Life

I like to spend time recollecting. That's mostly a euphemism for zoning out, but sometimes good memories come back.

Really, I spend a lot of that time thinking about some of the great times I've had. There have been some really good ones, some great ones, and some nice little moments.


Fresh Meat

As the JPFitness Summit approaches, I'm reminded me of my first trip to Arkansas, back in '89 or '90...

My friend and I had been driving all day and we needed to stop and stretch our legs. Maybe get some food and a beer. We pull off at a local little town and head to a little bar/restaurant that looks okay.

We go in and are greeted by a couple of homely women with friendly calls of "Hi boys!" Things like that. I head to the restroom, while my friend goes to a table. When I come out of the bathroom, I notice a small crowd around my friend and head over. It's pretty loud over there, and the look on his face is a cross between laughter and horror. Our eyes meet, which tells the crowd, which is all homely ladies, that I'm back. They turn, and with calls of "Fresh Meat! Fresh Meat!" head my way.

Suddenly, I'm surrounded by a herd of these women, frantically grabbing my crotch and ass, hooting and hollering "Fresh Meat! Fresh Meat!" Screeching, if you will.

Somehow, we get to the door, smiling and laughing our way to safety, back to back, all while we're being pressed, grabbed, and groped. "Fresh Meat! Fresh Meat!"

We break for the truck, but the women stay at the door, calling us back. However temping, we leave, not stopping until we are out of state.

Luckily, my last trip to Arkansas was slightly more pleasant, although equally memorable.