-- Most mornings, when I hoist myself off the platform, my right ear is completely sealed-off. In the past when this would happen, I'd mess around with it and try to restore normalcy. But, I've learned, that only prolongs the problem.
So over the past few months I've just ignored my dead ear, and within thirty minutes it comes back to life. And man, when it pops it's a glorious moment. You instantly go from being slightly disoriented and
off, to feeling pretty damn great.
Yesterday morning, however, it lasted for several hours and I was starting to get concerned. Where's the pop? I need the pop! Then I was out in the front yard yelling at Andy (he always wants to serve up a pipin' hot yard cruller on our neighbors' lawn), and there was a powerful explosion in my head. And all was right with the world.
I'm freakin' falling apart… Every day it's a new adventure.
-- Yesterday I put $63.00 worth of gas in my Camry. A new record, I believe; the thing was about as empty as it could get, without saying fuckit.
And as I was driving to Wendy's, for a #1 with cheese, no pickles, and a Coke, I started thinking about what $63.00 could buy. And I realized my new iPod docking station, which I'd agonized about for weeks before finally ordering, only cost about $15.00 more.
In fact, the price has dropped since my purchase, and is now LESS than a tank of gasoline.
Check it out.
I'm no audiophile, but I've listened to a lot of music in my time, and that thing sounds
good. As is the tradition, I read roughly a million reviews of docking stations/speakers, before pulling the trigger. And that particular model received almost unanimous praise. The sound quality is supposedly equal to the
Bose SoundDock, which costs about five times as much.
And it was a far more satisfying purchase than four or five days worth of gasoline, I'm here to tell ya. What else would $63.00 buy? Help me build up a good bitterness, won't you? It's been a while.
Also, what's the most you've ever paid, filling up yer tank?
And please, we're just having some fun here, no need to get up on any political high-horses about
the subject. I get enough of that at work, and talking to, um, relatives. Holy hell, can't we just joke around for once, without someone inserting the
stick?
-- Speaking of work… You know when you go to your boss with a potential problem, and it gets completely blown-off?
Then the potential problem comes to full fruition in a few weeks, and everybody wants to know why you didn't prevent it?
Yeah, I do too.
-- And a woman at my job told a big convoluted story about a dog fight a few nights ago. I was only half-listening, until she got to the part about her nephew.
She said he "has problems," is very frail and sickly with "paper-like skin," was born with a Tayback hump, or an Orzabal hump, or something like that. And during this dog fight, the kid was knocked down and "fell behind an end table."
Man, I had to tap into some unknown reservoir of strength to keep a straight face during all that... I mean, I'm only flesh and blood here.
-- Did any of you try the buttermilk steaks this past weekend? If so, how'd it go? I need a full report.
Following is how I was told to do it, by a self-proclaimed expert, and it turned out really well for us. We cooked rib-eyes (I think), and they were almost impossibly tender.
Soak the steaks overnight in real buttermilk ("no fat-free shit!"). Rinse the next morning with cold water, then let sit in a marinade throughout the day. He recommended a homemade marinade consisting of 75% A-1 sauce/25% apple cider vinegar, sea salt, and pepper. But it can be something else, if you prefer.
Cook on a very hot, pre-heated grill, and once they're done, don't cut into the meat for several minutes.
If you try it, let us know how it worked-out for ya.
-- The house where I grew up is reportedly for sale (asking price: $110,000). One of my friends said I should buy it, and "set things right." And while that's an intriguing idea, it doesn't appeal to me as much as someday buying the one directly across the street.
It's a house my grandparents had built in 1955, and where they lived when I knew them. It's a small cinderblock place, on a corner lot. My mother and aunt sold it after my grandmother was moved to a nursing
home years ago, for something like $62,000.
A woman with one leg lives there now (my spies tell me), and I imagine her in there, day and night, scratching up my grandmother's prized hardwood floors, with her peg-leg.
I sometimes daydream of buying that house, and having it restored. Oh, I wouldn't try to recreate my grandparents' décor; that would be creepy. But I'd have the floors fixed, a new fancy-ass kitchen installed, everything painted, and the wiring re-done.
Plus, there was a big magnolia tree in the backyard when I was a kid. In 1972, or thereabouts, a storm came through and the thing fell over. So I would replace the magnolia tree, thank you very much.
I would also turn my grandfather's den (where I remember him watching the Watergate hearings on a black & white TV) into a home office, decked out with just a shocking amount of cutting-edge electronics.
Yes, on the outside it would look like any other house on the block, but inside it would be a full-blown home office extended-stay workspace media center extravaganza. You know, in my fantasy world...
How much do you think it would cost to have peg-leg grooves rubbed out of a hardwood floor, anyway?
And for the record, I also have detailed daydreams in which I purchase a
great old bar
I used to frequent in Greensboro, NC. It was once an old-fashioned beer bar (no liquor to be found), with a fantastic jukebox.
And I would restore it to its former grimy-ass glory.
Am I alone in these kinds of crackpot ideas?
-- Here's something I wouldn't mind trying.
Yum! I'd like to have that added to my feedbag.
-- And are you aware the Brits make fun of us Americans, because we call the final show of a TV season the "finale." It's true. I heard 'em yukking it up at our expense, on the
Clive Bull radio show. Of course, it is kinda douchey, when you think about it…
-- Finally, the Smoking Fish has been spotted, all over Ireland. Luckily, Surf Reporter Daniel was there to document the phenomenon. Very cool.
Check it out!
Thanks, Daniel. Great stuff.
And I won't be able to update on Friday, I'm afraid, since I'll be shepherding twelve year old kids through the
Bronx Zoo all day. However, I have a feeling it'll lead to an extra-special Monday update. Sweet sainted mother of Eeka
the Snake Woman!
