1-800-257-1234. Anyone recognize that number? I grew up during the 60's and 70's in rural Ms. We never had cable TV in our home. It simply wasn't available and as a result we never had more than 3 or 4 TV stations; CBS, NBC, PBS and sometimes ABC. So it was a bit of culture shock when I went off to college and discovered that there was life beyond the networks.
Ted Turner's WTBS opened a whole new world of old movies, sitcom reruns and Atlanta Braves baseball. In those days, WTBS didn't get the traditional advertisers like laundry soap, toilet paper, car manufacturers or Alka Seltzer (plop,plop,fizz,fizz).
Ted made much of his fortune by advertising Ginsu Knives, and forming a symbiotic relationship with Ron Popeil who brought us the Chop-o-Matic, the Pocket Fisherman, Mr. Microphone and the Inside the Shell Egg Scrambler.
In those days,800 numbers were also relatively new and not that common. It seemed every product sold on TV could be purchased by calling 1-800-257-1234. My college roommates and I would make jokes about what we could buy by calling that number and whenever the end of a commercial approached we would mimic the announcer in unison when he said: "Call Now 1-800-257-1234."
Friday, March 4, 2016
I think we've all seen a Beer N Bait store... pretty common here in Mizzippi . But as I was traveling round the state last week, I saw a couple things I had never seen before. Up in the Delta, I ran across a Beer N Meat store where you can buy bulk meat and beer by the case. 50 lbs of assorted meat for $99.99 sold out the backdoor and beer sold up front.
In Vicksburg not far from the River, we found another unique combo: Hair salon and reception hall.
If I ever find a funeral home w a snack bar, I am going in for a look around.
In Vicksburg not far from the River, we found another unique combo: Hair salon and reception hall.
If I ever find a funeral home w a snack bar, I am going in for a look around.
Happy 30th
Last year we both forgot our anniversary – not gonna happen this year as we celebrate our 30th and our daughter’s birthday (for those with questions, same day – different years). We were out for dinner last weekend and someone asked if we were celebrating Valentine’s Day. My response was “after 30 years of marriage, we no longer celebrate- we tolerate.”
Tracy was not amused….. but she’s ok now as she has that toleration thing going for her.
Here’s to 30 years with the love of my life, full of celebration, toleration, admiration, adoration, appreciation and affirmation peppered with consternation, meditation, arbitration, dispensation and the occasional reparation and aberration. There are a few “ations” that are not included here for discretionary reasons.
Tracy was not amused….. but she’s ok now as she has that toleration thing going for her.
Here’s to 30 years with the love of my life, full of celebration, toleration, admiration, adoration, appreciation and affirmation peppered with consternation, meditation, arbitration, dispensation and the occasional reparation and aberration. There are a few “ations” that are not included here for discretionary reasons.
People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.”
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
I've never been one who liked to rank things.. the greatest athlete, singer, etc. It always seemed silly to me. I certainly feel that way about literature. As I go back and re-read "To Kill a Mockingbird" I think I can begin to understand her eccentricity about writing and why she never published again til just before her death. Everything she would do for the rest of her life would pale in comparison.
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
I've never been one who liked to rank things.. the greatest athlete, singer, etc. It always seemed silly to me. I certainly feel that way about literature. As I go back and re-read "To Kill a Mockingbird" I think I can begin to understand her eccentricity about writing and why she never published again til just before her death. Everything she would do for the rest of her life would pale in comparison.
***
On the radio right now, the trials and tribulations of trying to get your dog into an exclusive doggie daycare. And to defeat the label of elitism, premium doggie daycares provide scholarships for those who cannot afford their services.
HOW ABOUT A LITTLE MORE SAUCE WITH THAT WINE
I love food. All you have to do is look at me and it becomes obvious that eating is one of the top three things I like to do. I’ll not say what the other two are but suffice it to say that they can involve food too. But I don’t totally understand the fanaticism that some people have toward certain foods. There are two groups in particular that seemed to have reached a common state of shear madness; wine connoisseurs and barbeque buffs. In the cases of wine or barbeque, it seems that the process and the trappings have taken on much more importance than the products themselves. Talking the right talk & walking the right walk is all important. In other words, the snobs have taken over.
As it was explained to me by a barbeque authority, (Take it for what it’s worth as half the men south of D.C. consider themselves to be an authority on BBQ; the other half are authorities on NASCAR.) the processes of wine tasting and barbeque judging are exactly the same. See it – smell it – taste it – and describe it. The description process being of utmost importance as it says more about you than it does about the product. Simply to say “I like it” or “I hate it” is considered to be in extremely poor taste and an offense to the party involved. A judge of either product must be sufficiently flowery in language and vague in substance to be considered expert. In other words, the best judges are political candidates.
For example, an expert wine taster might describe a wine in this manner: “This vintage comes from a less than robust grape that nevertheless shows high-toned estery, acetate aromas that may be pleasing to some palettes. Its oakness is unquestionable yet leaves an earthiness to be desired by the more liberated connoisseur.” It’s more of a Sandra Bullock than a Kim Kardashian and its lack of dark, mysterious undertones makes it more suitable for less serious occasions.
The judge at a barbeque cook-off would speak in this manner: “Woo- Boy! That there beer-butt chicken‘s got a real twang to it. It’s real obvious that this ol boy used a light beer to stick up that chicken’s butt which gives it a nice airy feel but I woulda tried a full-bodied beer of 5 % alcohol or higher, preferably of Anheuser-Busch distillation. That sauce has a good color & he swabbed it on just about right. Its combination of sweet and heat is darn good but more honey & less brown sugar would have given it more body and a more complex taste. I gave it a good bite but it didn’t bite back. Good enough to make ya slap yore Pappy but not yore Granny.”
What’s really interesting is that these two groups, no matter how different in style, seem to be coming together. Jean Pierre meets Joe Bob. There are wine web sites that have recipes for barbeque, ( calling for a non domestic beer to stick up that chicken) and barbeque sites that give advice on which wine goes best with Billy Don’s Thundering Chicken Thighs, (Mogen David’s fortified Mad Dog 20/20)
I have never understood the desire to make a competition out of doing something that you love. How do you judge something that is so subjective to individual taste? Some people like red; some people like white. Some like sweet and some like hot. Eat and drink what you like in moderation. If it were me, I’d drink the beer, quit messin with that chicken’s butt (that ain’t natural) and throw him on the grill while watching a college football game on TV, another one of the top three things I like to do.
As it was explained to me by a barbeque authority, (Take it for what it’s worth as half the men south of D.C. consider themselves to be an authority on BBQ; the other half are authorities on NASCAR.) the processes of wine tasting and barbeque judging are exactly the same. See it – smell it – taste it – and describe it. The description process being of utmost importance as it says more about you than it does about the product. Simply to say “I like it” or “I hate it” is considered to be in extremely poor taste and an offense to the party involved. A judge of either product must be sufficiently flowery in language and vague in substance to be considered expert. In other words, the best judges are political candidates.
For example, an expert wine taster might describe a wine in this manner: “This vintage comes from a less than robust grape that nevertheless shows high-toned estery, acetate aromas that may be pleasing to some palettes. Its oakness is unquestionable yet leaves an earthiness to be desired by the more liberated connoisseur.” It’s more of a Sandra Bullock than a Kim Kardashian and its lack of dark, mysterious undertones makes it more suitable for less serious occasions.
The judge at a barbeque cook-off would speak in this manner: “Woo- Boy! That there beer-butt chicken‘s got a real twang to it. It’s real obvious that this ol boy used a light beer to stick up that chicken’s butt which gives it a nice airy feel but I woulda tried a full-bodied beer of 5 % alcohol or higher, preferably of Anheuser-Busch distillation. That sauce has a good color & he swabbed it on just about right. Its combination of sweet and heat is darn good but more honey & less brown sugar would have given it more body and a more complex taste. I gave it a good bite but it didn’t bite back. Good enough to make ya slap yore Pappy but not yore Granny.”
What’s really interesting is that these two groups, no matter how different in style, seem to be coming together. Jean Pierre meets Joe Bob. There are wine web sites that have recipes for barbeque, ( calling for a non domestic beer to stick up that chicken) and barbeque sites that give advice on which wine goes best with Billy Don’s Thundering Chicken Thighs, (Mogen David’s fortified Mad Dog 20/20)
I have never understood the desire to make a competition out of doing something that you love. How do you judge something that is so subjective to individual taste? Some people like red; some people like white. Some like sweet and some like hot. Eat and drink what you like in moderation. If it were me, I’d drink the beer, quit messin with that chicken’s butt (that ain’t natural) and throw him on the grill while watching a college football game on TV, another one of the top three things I like to do.
Smokin Skeeters
As I get older, I find myself reminiscing more and more about my childhood. Time seems to almost always minimize the bad and exaggerate the good. That’s probably a good thing and I know that memories are always sweeter than reality.
For the most part, I missed out on the grandparent thing. My grandmothers had died many years before I was born. Life was tough on women – even just a generation or two ago.
I did have an elderly neighbor lady who served in that capacity. Miss Katie lived across the road in my grandfather’s old house. She was always, Miss Katie, even though she was a widow lady. She struggled financially but always produced a good garden and supplemented her income by crocheting a few items for folks who were kind enough to buy them from her.
Summertime was always the best. If my pals, Jimmy or Charlie weren’t around to play army or cowboy and indians, I always seemed to find myself on Katie’s front porch by late afternoon. She had a couple of rockers and a porch swing that suffered from heavy use.
Before any porch sittin’ however, chores had to be done. Lawn mowing was a big job for Katie. She covered over an acre with a push mower and it was usually a two-afternoon process. Sometimes I helped but as I look back, I now realize that I probably didn’t help enough.
By the second day of mowing, the first day’s grass clippings had sufficiently dried to be used for a special purpose.
Sitting on the porch as twilight approached and cooling off after a hard afternoon’s work was a pleasant experience, but only if you were able to keep the gnats and mosquitoes at bay.
Katie had a unique approach to insect control. Smoke would suffice to keep those little buggers away and partially dried grass clippings were perfect to maintain a nice white haze over the porch and the immediate lawn. Katie kept two slop jars on her porch and when it was time to “sit a spell”, I would gather up sufficient clippings to fill the enameled pots and set a slow burn. One slop jar would be placed at each end of the porch. If you don’t know what a slop jar is, ask somebody that’s older than dirt - like me.
Today when I see an old slop jar in an antique store, I immediately think of Katie – probably not the way she would have preferred to be remembered but I doubt she would have minded too much. And the smell of burning grass brings back a memory of a slow, peaceful 1960’s twilight listening to the steady creak of a rocker, the hum of the box fan just inside the screen door and the whine of an old farmer’s decrepit pickup as it fades away with the sunset on an old country road.
For the most part, I missed out on the grandparent thing. My grandmothers had died many years before I was born. Life was tough on women – even just a generation or two ago.
I did have an elderly neighbor lady who served in that capacity. Miss Katie lived across the road in my grandfather’s old house. She was always, Miss Katie, even though she was a widow lady. She struggled financially but always produced a good garden and supplemented her income by crocheting a few items for folks who were kind enough to buy them from her.
Summertime was always the best. If my pals, Jimmy or Charlie weren’t around to play army or cowboy and indians, I always seemed to find myself on Katie’s front porch by late afternoon. She had a couple of rockers and a porch swing that suffered from heavy use.
Before any porch sittin’ however, chores had to be done. Lawn mowing was a big job for Katie. She covered over an acre with a push mower and it was usually a two-afternoon process. Sometimes I helped but as I look back, I now realize that I probably didn’t help enough.
By the second day of mowing, the first day’s grass clippings had sufficiently dried to be used for a special purpose.
Sitting on the porch as twilight approached and cooling off after a hard afternoon’s work was a pleasant experience, but only if you were able to keep the gnats and mosquitoes at bay.
Katie had a unique approach to insect control. Smoke would suffice to keep those little buggers away and partially dried grass clippings were perfect to maintain a nice white haze over the porch and the immediate lawn. Katie kept two slop jars on her porch and when it was time to “sit a spell”, I would gather up sufficient clippings to fill the enameled pots and set a slow burn. One slop jar would be placed at each end of the porch. If you don’t know what a slop jar is, ask somebody that’s older than dirt - like me.
Today when I see an old slop jar in an antique store, I immediately think of Katie – probably not the way she would have preferred to be remembered but I doubt she would have minded too much. And the smell of burning grass brings back a memory of a slow, peaceful 1960’s twilight listening to the steady creak of a rocker, the hum of the box fan just inside the screen door and the whine of an old farmer’s decrepit pickup as it fades away with the sunset on an old country road.
Political opinions popping up this morning like mushrooms on a manure pile.
I wonder if God ever laughs? His sense of humor is without question- slathered in abundance atop all human interactions like whipped cream and sprinkles. But does he giggle,guffaw or roar occasionally with a good belly laugh? And if he does, is it the result of his own pranks upon his human herd or the absurd actions of humanity when left to its own devices?
I wonder if God ever laughs? His sense of humor is without question- slathered in abundance atop all human interactions like whipped cream and sprinkles. But does he giggle,guffaw or roar occasionally with a good belly laugh? And if he does, is it the result of his own pranks upon his human herd or the absurd actions of humanity when left to its own devices?
Pineapple on Top
It’s not that I have anything against pineapple. When we were kids, we ate pineapple straight out of the can or sometimes Mom would make some kind of dessert called an “upside down cake” for Sunday dinner. I never understood why it was called upside down because the pineapple was on top where it looked like it was supposed to be. Anyway, pineapple has its place in my diet – as a dessert or snack.
It doesn’t belong anywhere else. Lately restaurants have been putting pineapple in the oddest places. I guess they are in season now and the price has got so low that restaurants have decided they can afford to be creative with them. I’m speaking for most red blooded, meat-eating, iced-tea swilling American consumers when I say: STOP IT!!
I don’t want pineapple chunks on my pizza or in my salad and especially not on my cheeseburgers. My buddy, Terry and I went to a restaurant a few years back: one of those big chains with plastic potted flowers hanging from the ceiling and a ten minute wait before they seat you. The menus are different in these places. They have steaks and seafood and chicken but not like you would prepare at home or that your Mom put on the table. These dishes are dressed up a bit. They “blacken” almost any meat dish now. The first time I tried a blackened steak, I assumed it meant well done, but what it actually means is that it is coated in a half inch thick layer of spices which the chef then proceeds to burn to a dark black hue while the meat inside remains raw. And these restaurants aren’t satisfied unless your meal is covered with something sticky. Blackened steak topped with blue cheese cream sauce, grilled shrimp in a white wine and garlic sauce or a grilled chicken breast topped with a light chutney sauce. (I don’t know exactly what chutney is but I bet it’s chopped pineapple sautéed in pineapple juice and then blackened over a fire made from the wood of a pineapple tree.)
Terry was a Midwestern boy; strictly meat and potatoes. If it hasn’t mooed or oinked in its recent past, he wasn’t going to eat it. He even considered chicken (unless it was fried) to be a little suspect. We decided to play it safe and stick to cheeseburgers and fries. They had fourteen variations of the basic cheeseburger. From tofu burgers to Swiss mushroom burgers to bleu cheese burgers till we reached number twelve on the menu; the pineapple burger. I asked the waitress if there was any real meat in that one.
“Of course, it’s a genuine angus beef patty topped with a ring of pineapple and cottage cheese.”
My next question was - had anybody ever actually ordered one?
“I have to be honest. It’s not one of our most popular burgers. Come to think of it, I don’t think a man has ever ordered one; mostly little old ladies in hats with big purses.”
We tried to order a plain ol’ cheeseburger and fries. There wasn’t one and we were informed that we had to order from the menu. Terry was about to order breadsticks to go when I got creative. “We’ll have the pineapple burger with the pineapple and cottage cheese on the side on a bed of lettuce; extra ketchup and mustard, please.”
“Excellent choice, sir. Now what kind of fries would you like? We have Cajun fries, curly fries, cottage fries, steak fries, sweet potato fries or tofu fries?”
We ended up across the street at Wendy’s with our double cheeseburgers and not a pineapple in sight.
It doesn’t belong anywhere else. Lately restaurants have been putting pineapple in the oddest places. I guess they are in season now and the price has got so low that restaurants have decided they can afford to be creative with them. I’m speaking for most red blooded, meat-eating, iced-tea swilling American consumers when I say: STOP IT!!
I don’t want pineapple chunks on my pizza or in my salad and especially not on my cheeseburgers. My buddy, Terry and I went to a restaurant a few years back: one of those big chains with plastic potted flowers hanging from the ceiling and a ten minute wait before they seat you. The menus are different in these places. They have steaks and seafood and chicken but not like you would prepare at home or that your Mom put on the table. These dishes are dressed up a bit. They “blacken” almost any meat dish now. The first time I tried a blackened steak, I assumed it meant well done, but what it actually means is that it is coated in a half inch thick layer of spices which the chef then proceeds to burn to a dark black hue while the meat inside remains raw. And these restaurants aren’t satisfied unless your meal is covered with something sticky. Blackened steak topped with blue cheese cream sauce, grilled shrimp in a white wine and garlic sauce or a grilled chicken breast topped with a light chutney sauce. (I don’t know exactly what chutney is but I bet it’s chopped pineapple sautéed in pineapple juice and then blackened over a fire made from the wood of a pineapple tree.)
Terry was a Midwestern boy; strictly meat and potatoes. If it hasn’t mooed or oinked in its recent past, he wasn’t going to eat it. He even considered chicken (unless it was fried) to be a little suspect. We decided to play it safe and stick to cheeseburgers and fries. They had fourteen variations of the basic cheeseburger. From tofu burgers to Swiss mushroom burgers to bleu cheese burgers till we reached number twelve on the menu; the pineapple burger. I asked the waitress if there was any real meat in that one.
“Of course, it’s a genuine angus beef patty topped with a ring of pineapple and cottage cheese.”
My next question was - had anybody ever actually ordered one?
“I have to be honest. It’s not one of our most popular burgers. Come to think of it, I don’t think a man has ever ordered one; mostly little old ladies in hats with big purses.”
We tried to order a plain ol’ cheeseburger and fries. There wasn’t one and we were informed that we had to order from the menu. Terry was about to order breadsticks to go when I got creative. “We’ll have the pineapple burger with the pineapple and cottage cheese on the side on a bed of lettuce; extra ketchup and mustard, please.”
“Excellent choice, sir. Now what kind of fries would you like? We have Cajun fries, curly fries, cottage fries, steak fries, sweet potato fries or tofu fries?”
We ended up across the street at Wendy’s with our double cheeseburgers and not a pineapple in sight.
News Reporter: " the 3 jail escapees are STILL considered armed and dangerous this morning!". Darn - was hoping a good night's sleep would have mellowed em out a bit.
When subtle and oh so delicate sarcasm is lost in the vast digital universe of Facebook.
Punster: A dyslexic man walked into a bra.......
Comment: You misspelled "Bar"
Punster: Thank you so much. How's my punctuation?
Comment: Cool but you really shouldn't imply that all dyslexics drink. I mean what's the point?
Punster: Exactly
Morning news commentator: "I'm black and I don't take offense at a white actor playing Michael Jackson. After all, look at him in his later years- he was very light skinned and had white features. I just want to know- can this white guy dance? hmmmm
When subtle and oh so delicate sarcasm is lost in the vast digital universe of Facebook.
Punster: A dyslexic man walked into a bra.......
Comment: You misspelled "Bar"
Punster: Thank you so much. How's my punctuation?
Comment: Cool but you really shouldn't imply that all dyslexics drink. I mean what's the point?
Punster: Exactly
Morning news commentator: "I'm black and I don't take offense at a white actor playing Michael Jackson. After all, look at him in his later years- he was very light skinned and had white features. I just want to know- can this white guy dance? hmmmm
Where's all the fat people at?
Ever notice there's not any fat folks in most commercials ( unless it's a "before" picture for a weight loss product. Just watched a commercial set in a mall...dozens of folks walking around- all young, thin and well dressed. Not a gut, gray hair or" I'm with Stupid " t- shirt in sight. Think about that next time you're in North Park mall or heaven forbid- Walmart.
Exercise Anyone?
I have really put on the weight in the last couple of years – stress, age and a job that requires a lot of computer work and drive time have all colluded to inflate my spare tire. So –I’m thinking about dieting ---after the holidays. It’s a lot easier to think about it than actually do it.
Even though I’m not totally convinced of the need to be able to bounce a quarter off your stomach at the age of fifty five, I have made several attempts at exercise over the past few years. (You know its time to do something when you get out of breath while brushing your teeth.)
My most humiliating attempt involved a health club. I joined as a New Year’s resolution in January and paid $399 over the year. By the next Christmas, I had gained five pounds and I went to the management in hopes of getting my money back. I should have read the fine print in the contract because apparently their money back guarantee requires that you must actually go to the club and exercise. They should have told me this before I signed up.
Later I decided that I could exercise on my own and I took up power walking. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen people doing this activity but it involves moving your arms & legs in a most unnatural manner as you waddle down the street as if you have two pit bulls fighting it out in the seat of your pants. I had to give that up after only a week as I had started to attract spectators.
Over the years, Tracy & I have bought every kind of exercise machine ever invented by opportunistic sadists; from rowing machines, weight benches and treadmills to a strange little device called the Ab-Igator consisting of pulleys and ropes that you attach to a doorknob. The worst thing we ever bought was a giant rubber band that you placed under your feet and used for stretching exercises. It cost $29.99 plus $6.95 shipping and handling.
Many of these things ended up as a great place to hang our clothes and the only healthful exercise we got from most of them was the extra steps required to walk around them in the bedroom or from lugging them to the front lawn for the yearly yard sale. We did however use the rubber band. After we broke the knobs off the bedroom door with the Ab-Igator, I looped the band through the hole and we used it to open & close the door for a period of time.
I do think about exercising a lot; mostly after I’m already in the bed at night and there’s no risk of me actually getting up and doing any jumping jacks. When I do exercise, it’s limited to walking and I have to do it early in the morning before my brain wakes up and figures out what’s going on with the rest of my body.
But I’ve promised myself that after the holidays, I’m starting a stringent exercise program and whip myself back into shape; unless it’s raining or too cold or too windy or if there’s any pollen in the air or if there’s something good on TV. Then I’ll start after Valentine’s Day because when I die, I want to die healthy. But right now I’m going to have a glass of sweet tea and get ready for another Christmas Party tonight.
Even though I’m not totally convinced of the need to be able to bounce a quarter off your stomach at the age of fifty five, I have made several attempts at exercise over the past few years. (You know its time to do something when you get out of breath while brushing your teeth.)
My most humiliating attempt involved a health club. I joined as a New Year’s resolution in January and paid $399 over the year. By the next Christmas, I had gained five pounds and I went to the management in hopes of getting my money back. I should have read the fine print in the contract because apparently their money back guarantee requires that you must actually go to the club and exercise. They should have told me this before I signed up.
Later I decided that I could exercise on my own and I took up power walking. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen people doing this activity but it involves moving your arms & legs in a most unnatural manner as you waddle down the street as if you have two pit bulls fighting it out in the seat of your pants. I had to give that up after only a week as I had started to attract spectators.
Over the years, Tracy & I have bought every kind of exercise machine ever invented by opportunistic sadists; from rowing machines, weight benches and treadmills to a strange little device called the Ab-Igator consisting of pulleys and ropes that you attach to a doorknob. The worst thing we ever bought was a giant rubber band that you placed under your feet and used for stretching exercises. It cost $29.99 plus $6.95 shipping and handling.
Many of these things ended up as a great place to hang our clothes and the only healthful exercise we got from most of them was the extra steps required to walk around them in the bedroom or from lugging them to the front lawn for the yearly yard sale. We did however use the rubber band. After we broke the knobs off the bedroom door with the Ab-Igator, I looped the band through the hole and we used it to open & close the door for a period of time.
I do think about exercising a lot; mostly after I’m already in the bed at night and there’s no risk of me actually getting up and doing any jumping jacks. When I do exercise, it’s limited to walking and I have to do it early in the morning before my brain wakes up and figures out what’s going on with the rest of my body.
But I’ve promised myself that after the holidays, I’m starting a stringent exercise program and whip myself back into shape; unless it’s raining or too cold or too windy or if there’s any pollen in the air or if there’s something good on TV. Then I’ll start after Valentine’s Day because when I die, I want to die healthy. But right now I’m going to have a glass of sweet tea and get ready for another Christmas Party tonight.
Politically Correct- Green Beans?
What could be more innocuous than green beans? As a food, they are about as plain and simple and politically correct as anything I can imagine. I mean they even have the socially responsible word “green“ in their name. But then Facebook is a truly different world.
I saw what appeared to be a tasty recipe for green beans posted by an individual on my timeline a couple of days ago. I read it- it looked pretty good and then I saw a long list of comments. Thinking that I could find out if others liked it, I started reading a few. Most comments were pretty standard - “Like it” – “good but try it with this ingredient or that ingredient”, etc. But then it got weird.
Someone made a rather snide comment about overcooking the beans (like we do in the South) and as how that was socially irresponsible and cooked all the nutrients out of the dish. Many folks rushed to the defense of the recipe poster but somehow the conversation turned – drastically .
It somehow became a platform for social causes such as a need to provide more for the poor and food quality in soup kitchens. Someone enough posted their manifesto against human consumption of milk which was strange because the recipe didn’t call for any milk products. But when your cause is “milk is poison” and “we’re stealing milk from all those baby cows”, I guess you take your shot wherever you can.
All I can say is that some of us just ain’t right.
Brain Fluff
Be thankful. Even a manure pile is the result of some form of successful endeavor.
With this new Star Wars craze, I got to thinking... You know there's got to be some guy out there who is about to turn 40 named Chewbacca Jones.
Well apparently I didn't get Mark Zuckerberg's stock last night and I guess I'll have to start paying for my Facebook account next Spring ($9.99) cause I couldn't get my Facebook icon to turn any bluer than it was. I haven't heard from Bill Gates lately either.
I'm afraid Jesus may not love me anymore cause I failed to like someone's post. I also am confused about this Sharia law that Obama's gonna put us under. Do I have to have more wives or can I keep the one I've got?
And who is this Jade Helm gal and where did she disappear to?
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
The Recruit
Grown men losing their minds over the college choice of a 17 year old. We've had a parachute jump, a pro wrestler and Snoop Dog as kids craving attention grab their 15 minutes. A while back we even had a kid base his college decision on a coin toss.
Let's just be honest and give into our baser instincts. How about a reality show on ESPN called The Recruit. The kid is courted by a bevy of Division 1 coaches as he weeds them out by presenting highlight films on each episode. The winner drives off into the sunset with the Recruit in a Cadillac Escalade filled with cheerleaders and athletic shoes.
Let's just be honest and give into our baser instincts. How about a reality show on ESPN called The Recruit. The kid is courted by a bevy of Division 1 coaches as he weeds them out by presenting highlight films on each episode. The winner drives off into the sunset with the Recruit in a Cadillac Escalade filled with cheerleaders and athletic shoes.
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Jane - You Ignorant Slut
I once had an economics professor in college that made one statement that stuck with me long after the meaning of GNP and fungability slipped from me.
“Economics is a dismal science. ”
No matter our efforts, we cannot escape the realities of a finite world.
I believe religious debate without faith is also a dismal process. We attempt to approach it much like the old 60 minutes segment – Point-Counterpoint. Unfortunately many of us take the Saturday Night Live approach when our faith is lacking– “Jane, you ignorant slut.”
“Economics is a dismal science. ”
No matter our efforts, we cannot escape the realities of a finite world.
I believe religious debate without faith is also a dismal process. We attempt to approach it much like the old 60 minutes segment – Point-Counterpoint. Unfortunately many of us take the Saturday Night Live approach when our faith is lacking– “Jane, you ignorant slut.”
Secularism?
I never really gave the concept of secularism much thought. In my younger days, I always thought of it in terms of separation of church and state which I agree with in its basic form . But secularists have pushed far beyond that now and continue with surface only arguments intended to strip the world, or at least our little part of it, of the Christian religion.
Christianity seems to offend the secularists, agnostics and atheists at a much higher level than other world religions. That shouldn’t surprise anyone. Not only is it an easy target since you are less likely to be killed due to a Christian’s principles of faith, it also evokes the most hatred because it requires the most from you. It requires you to struggle against all those human failings that keep us in this difficult world we live in. It is an easy target because it has a long human history and a turning point. Any human history is filled with those failings – destruction, greed, jealousy, fear and murder; all things that are so easy for secularists to target as justification to remove Christianity from public consumption.
Secularists often point to wars and violence perpetrated over religion as justification for their efforts. I contend that wars are fought for all the aforementioned human failings and the name of religion is invoked only to make it palatable to the participants.
As best I can tell, secular humanism is based upon the concept that religion does more harm than good and that discarding the chains of faith is liberating and an intellectual pursuit. Lack of faith in a higher power is without question, liberating. It liberates us from the pangs of conscience and responsibility. According to secularism, men are undesigned, unintended and totally responsible for themselves and their existence.
As such, Christians have allowed secularists to define Christianity in the modern world - to twist its principles and to meet the display of human weaknesses in its history with cries of hypocrisy. Christians are being abused by a re-definition of their own faith.
In today’s world:
Thou shalt not kill – means thou shalt not defend yourself or your faith against those who seek to destroy it.
Judge not lest ye be judged – now means that a Christian must be tolerant of everything that the secular world deems acceptable regardless if it offends you or your beliefs or that you perceive that it is destructive to your society.
Turn the other cheek – now means – do not challenge my actions or my beliefs
Love one another – now means that you must accept me and celebrate me as I am regardless if my actions are destructive or in contradiction to your faith.
Yet hypocrisy runs rampant (another human failing) I recently listened to a secular humanist in a radio interview - a very pleasant fellow interviewed by a NPR host who didn’ t have the desire nor the intellectual where with all to offer any serious questions. The interview did yield something however. This fellow admitted that secularists had a strong desire for a moral code and a yearning for some small meaning of life. Where did that come from? His goal through his writing is to establish some rules or goals for secularism that included love of mankind and a responsibility to society. Kind of sounds like religion doesn’t it? Just without the responsibility.
Christianity seems to offend the secularists, agnostics and atheists at a much higher level than other world religions. That shouldn’t surprise anyone. Not only is it an easy target since you are less likely to be killed due to a Christian’s principles of faith, it also evokes the most hatred because it requires the most from you. It requires you to struggle against all those human failings that keep us in this difficult world we live in. It is an easy target because it has a long human history and a turning point. Any human history is filled with those failings – destruction, greed, jealousy, fear and murder; all things that are so easy for secularists to target as justification to remove Christianity from public consumption.
Secularists often point to wars and violence perpetrated over religion as justification for their efforts. I contend that wars are fought for all the aforementioned human failings and the name of religion is invoked only to make it palatable to the participants.
As best I can tell, secular humanism is based upon the concept that religion does more harm than good and that discarding the chains of faith is liberating and an intellectual pursuit. Lack of faith in a higher power is without question, liberating. It liberates us from the pangs of conscience and responsibility. According to secularism, men are undesigned, unintended and totally responsible for themselves and their existence.
As such, Christians have allowed secularists to define Christianity in the modern world - to twist its principles and to meet the display of human weaknesses in its history with cries of hypocrisy. Christians are being abused by a re-definition of their own faith.
In today’s world:
Thou shalt not kill – means thou shalt not defend yourself or your faith against those who seek to destroy it.
Judge not lest ye be judged – now means that a Christian must be tolerant of everything that the secular world deems acceptable regardless if it offends you or your beliefs or that you perceive that it is destructive to your society.
Turn the other cheek – now means – do not challenge my actions or my beliefs
Love one another – now means that you must accept me and celebrate me as I am regardless if my actions are destructive or in contradiction to your faith.
Yet hypocrisy runs rampant (another human failing) I recently listened to a secular humanist in a radio interview - a very pleasant fellow interviewed by a NPR host who didn’ t have the desire nor the intellectual where with all to offer any serious questions. The interview did yield something however. This fellow admitted that secularists had a strong desire for a moral code and a yearning for some small meaning of life. Where did that come from? His goal through his writing is to establish some rules or goals for secularism that included love of mankind and a responsibility to society. Kind of sounds like religion doesn’t it? Just without the responsibility.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)