I have always felt it best to deal with rumor and accusation head-on. People that speak ill of me are free to have their opinions. For example, the can say, "I think John is full of bullshit". That is an opinion and one that I would occasionally have to second. When someone says, "John is lying, or John is wrong", that really pisses me off........when I am telling the truth and right anyway. Words like 'lying' and 'wrong' are statements of facts. With that having been said, let me address a rumor concerning me that has been making the rounds. Specifically regarding something that I do for just a few hours once a week.
It is has been said that I wear items that are made of leather, rubber, and are laced up to keep things in place. These statements are true. I think it is worth noting that it is usually for just a few hours at a time and typically just once a week. Sometimes I will do it twice a week, sometimes I have gone two weeks at a time. The point is I do it consistently and unashamedly. Usually it is at church. It's true....I admit it......I wear nice shoes! Johnston Murphy's. My oxblood shoes are 16.5 years old. All of this is fact.
I have spoken many times about food and what I like. A hallmark of my favorite restaurants is a signature dish. One place I enjoy is Maddox. It is a destination restaurant to be certain. What is their signature dish? Turkey steak? Fried chicken? Steaks? Maybe all of them. What makes them good not intricacy of flavors, it is not complex techniques, it is not elegant presentation. What they do is make simple things perfectly. Let me illustrate my point by describing my last meal there. The water and ice are from their own well. It is clean, crisp, and in old-school glasses. The butter and rolls are next. The butter is soft, but not squishy, and easily speardable without tearing up the roll. Simple, but perfect. The rolls and corn pones are from a few simple ingredients but precisely mixed, baked, and served perfectly warm. Simple but perfect. Next is the seafood salad. It is artificialy crab meat over a bed of shredded lettuce topped with cocktail sauce. Strangely it works. It sounds vile, but it works and I eat it all every time. Yes I like the turkey steaks. They are unique but, let's face it, the emperor is wearing no clothes. The fried chicken is skinless which is fairly unique but hardly original. This makes the thighs edible, but it is otherwise......just OK. Many who would hear me say this would get angry. I would earnestly suggest they eat a turkey steak and shut up while I state the obvious. Maddox is all about steak. The tenderloin I had was large, properly aged and seared, and fell apart while I was cutting it. The dry rub and pat of butter work perfectly. It was medium rare, instead of the rare that I ordered. Otherwise simple but perfect.
Finally I am watching a debate between Huntsman and Gingrich. Gingrich is smart to be certain, well-connected....still, and understands history and the complexities. Huntsman is transcendent. I have always thought he is a politicaly thoroughbred and today people are seeing it. He will win.
One more thing, I am still kicking around running for Senate. Hatch is a moron and I doubt the Dems got anyone to consider.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
talking like a pirate , "Taco Nation", and machisimo
Today is my son's birthday. That meant he got to pick what he wanted for dinner and what kind of cake he wanted. More on that later.
Today is also 'Talk like a Pirate Day". I didn't. I suspect most pirates were, like most criminals, ill-educated and not terribly bright. Given my love for the Mother Tongue, I would likely be disgusted. Though I am not sure of the exact link, today is a day of celebrating the Flying Spaghetti Monster. May you all be touched by his noodly appendage.
Sometime in the last millenia salsa consumption surpassed catsup in this country. La reconquista is alive and well. I welcome it. The plight of the illegal immigrant is something I have discussed before. But La Reconquista is not about Mexico taking over. Quite the contrary in fact. The illegals come here because Mexico sucks. The U.S. rocks. What's so bad about assimilating a little Mexican culture? There is a weekly article entitled, "Ask a Mexican" that is the only reason I read a certain newspaper. He is writing a book entitled 'Taco Nation' wherein he discusses the encroachment of Mexican food into the American pallate.
Back to my kid's birthday. What did we want? We had ranchera preparada, abodobo chicken, with tortillas, and a tres leches cake. Was it Mexican night? Nope. He just got his favorites. For him the war is over. Can Spanglish be far off? Nope, we are already doing it. At least me. The cake had strawberries and fresh peaches, cream, condensed milk, and cake moistened with evaporated milk. There is only one cake that has ever been sweeter. That would be the cake I had a few years ago with a picture of Salma Hayek on it. Son number three ate the boobs before I got to them.
I have never been much of a 'competitor'. I played a little baseball as a kid. Growing up you could usually find me in a pick-up game of flag football or playing three on three. I played a little Church basketball and softball until I became disgusted with the lack of sportsmanship. In short, I like to play with the fellas and have some fun. No more. I live in a small house, I own nothing ostentatious or flashy. I don't have a boat. I don't have a sports car. I dress and act like an old guy and don't try to be one of my kids. I am a Taoist.
I do however like to be a hospitable host whenever possible. I always try to pick up the tab when I eat out with friends. When we eat out as a family we typically have a few extra 'Loertschers' with us. When it's dinnertime anybody is who is the house eats. All of this is nothing more than straight up 'quien es mas macho?'.
The Ybarras were my neighbors for the first 24 years of my life. I barely remember Senora Ybarra other than she was kind to me and bought we a sombrero that I wore everywhere as a child. I lover her for it. Her boys, Fred, Albert, and Carlos would throw neighborhood parties where everyone was invited. After all if everyone is there, nobody calls the cops! They would have the lights strung out. Music, sometimes live. Lots of wonderful food. Plenty of places to sit and socialize. FInally, a large area where I could throw a football around with their nephews Jose and Oscar. Even today, I cannot recall having attended better parties. When I was about 10 I remember leaving a party at midnight and going to my home next door. My parents promised they would be home in just a few minutes. For whatever the reason, I woke up about two hours later and the Ybarras were still going strong. I tried yelling for everybody to shut up and go to sleep. One of the neighborhood cops (who was at the party) pointed at me as he said something to my father. The old-man shrugged and then waved at me as if to say, 'you're bothering me kid'.
Fred poured me a beer when I was eight. I got through about half of it. My parents caught me nursing it. My mom seemed entirely non-plussed and promptly went back to chatting with the women. My old man asked, "Does it taste like shit?". I said it did. He explained that it wouldn't be impolite to not finish it. So I dumped it. Dad wandered off to grab some more tamales and lay down on the grass. I washed the taste out with some chile verde and Coke with real sugar and I was right as rain.
I blame the Ybarras for what I have become. I am nothing more than a middle-aged Mexican who suffers from an overdose of machisimo. What's next? Always wearing shirts that are impossibly white? A massive rose garden in the front yard? Growing my hair out in order that I can keep it impeccably combed? I'll have none of that. Still, La reconquista is over for me. I lost the battle by the mid-70's.
Today is also 'Talk like a Pirate Day". I didn't. I suspect most pirates were, like most criminals, ill-educated and not terribly bright. Given my love for the Mother Tongue, I would likely be disgusted. Though I am not sure of the exact link, today is a day of celebrating the Flying Spaghetti Monster. May you all be touched by his noodly appendage.
Sometime in the last millenia salsa consumption surpassed catsup in this country. La reconquista is alive and well. I welcome it. The plight of the illegal immigrant is something I have discussed before. But La Reconquista is not about Mexico taking over. Quite the contrary in fact. The illegals come here because Mexico sucks. The U.S. rocks. What's so bad about assimilating a little Mexican culture? There is a weekly article entitled, "Ask a Mexican" that is the only reason I read a certain newspaper. He is writing a book entitled 'Taco Nation' wherein he discusses the encroachment of Mexican food into the American pallate.
Back to my kid's birthday. What did we want? We had ranchera preparada, abodobo chicken, with tortillas, and a tres leches cake. Was it Mexican night? Nope. He just got his favorites. For him the war is over. Can Spanglish be far off? Nope, we are already doing it. At least me. The cake had strawberries and fresh peaches, cream, condensed milk, and cake moistened with evaporated milk. There is only one cake that has ever been sweeter. That would be the cake I had a few years ago with a picture of Salma Hayek on it. Son number three ate the boobs before I got to them.
I have never been much of a 'competitor'. I played a little baseball as a kid. Growing up you could usually find me in a pick-up game of flag football or playing three on three. I played a little Church basketball and softball until I became disgusted with the lack of sportsmanship. In short, I like to play with the fellas and have some fun. No more. I live in a small house, I own nothing ostentatious or flashy. I don't have a boat. I don't have a sports car. I dress and act like an old guy and don't try to be one of my kids. I am a Taoist.
I do however like to be a hospitable host whenever possible. I always try to pick up the tab when I eat out with friends. When we eat out as a family we typically have a few extra 'Loertschers' with us. When it's dinnertime anybody is who is the house eats. All of this is nothing more than straight up 'quien es mas macho?'.
The Ybarras were my neighbors for the first 24 years of my life. I barely remember Senora Ybarra other than she was kind to me and bought we a sombrero that I wore everywhere as a child. I lover her for it. Her boys, Fred, Albert, and Carlos would throw neighborhood parties where everyone was invited. After all if everyone is there, nobody calls the cops! They would have the lights strung out. Music, sometimes live. Lots of wonderful food. Plenty of places to sit and socialize. FInally, a large area where I could throw a football around with their nephews Jose and Oscar. Even today, I cannot recall having attended better parties. When I was about 10 I remember leaving a party at midnight and going to my home next door. My parents promised they would be home in just a few minutes. For whatever the reason, I woke up about two hours later and the Ybarras were still going strong. I tried yelling for everybody to shut up and go to sleep. One of the neighborhood cops (who was at the party) pointed at me as he said something to my father. The old-man shrugged and then waved at me as if to say, 'you're bothering me kid'.
Fred poured me a beer when I was eight. I got through about half of it. My parents caught me nursing it. My mom seemed entirely non-plussed and promptly went back to chatting with the women. My old man asked, "Does it taste like shit?". I said it did. He explained that it wouldn't be impolite to not finish it. So I dumped it. Dad wandered off to grab some more tamales and lay down on the grass. I washed the taste out with some chile verde and Coke with real sugar and I was right as rain.
I blame the Ybarras for what I have become. I am nothing more than a middle-aged Mexican who suffers from an overdose of machisimo. What's next? Always wearing shirts that are impossibly white? A massive rose garden in the front yard? Growing my hair out in order that I can keep it impeccably combed? I'll have none of that. Still, La reconquista is over for me. I lost the battle by the mid-70's.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
I resolve to post more often.
I got a quick email from one of my gentle readers (and fellow Pharmacy manager who was mentioned in a previous blog becuase he wears men's underwear) informing me that my blog is blocked from view by my employer. I can come up with several good reasons for it to be blocked. 1) We aren't getting paid to waste time reading my drivel. 2) Well........the first reason alone is sufficient.
It's not so much the why that gave me pause to thing but rather the how. Apparently I used the word 'hate' somewhere in there. So I thought this might be a good time for me to discuss words. Anyone who knows me can attest that I enjoy this. I am troubled when I hear people say that two words means 'the same thing'. Naturally this is not true, otherwise we would just have one word.
So I wish to pontificate on dislike vs. hate. 'Pontificate' is a nice word. It reminds me of a Little Rascals joke I know. Naturally, Buckwheat delivers the punchline. Before I do that I wish to separate out love and hate from the mix. I do not believe these are end points for a spectrum of opinion, rather they are two different sides of the same emotionally governed coin. There is a fine line between love and hate and when the conversion occurs they are usually of the same magnitude. Think mathematics. The absolute value of negative six is six. Examples could be: The person who I have loved for a long time who betrays me is now my worst enemy. A long time adversary makes a magnaminous gesture and is now my best buddy in the world.
Like and dislike lack an emotional component. Think about the girl in college who said the she really 'liked' you. Just in case you didn't know already, that means that there was absolutely no chance she would have ever had sex with you. It's far easier to bone the ones that 'hate' you since their is a built-in emotional component that is at least present. And, if my analysis is correct, can be converted into something that makes 'make-up sex' seem like going to the prom with your sister.
Finally I am about to make my point. We have like on one end and dislike on the other. Ultimately nobody cares what we like and dislike, unless of course they love or hate them. When there is no emotional component, people don't care as much. Hence people will result to hyperbole to make their views known. I should probably go back and see where I have used the word 'hate'. I am lazy though, so I will just start a fresh list. I will naturally not list individuals. Why, because there are no individuals that I hate. There are certain groups that I hate, but mostly there are acts and attitudes that I hate. Alas, many individuals do them on occasional. So without further ado:
Uncle John's top-ten list of hated things
1) White supremacists. The thing that I find most laughable about this group is their parareligious admiration for Hitler. Let's turn back the clock to post-Weimar Germany. You are a tattooed and pierced person with a lengthy record of criminal mischief and drug-dealing. You are going to be one of the first that is 'culled' from the tribe.
The truth is I hate any group that preaches hate. I am merely reflecting back at them what they project out. Most of these kids (yes I used the word 'kids' since they are typically young and stupid) are just pissed off about some type of perceived injustice. Many of them have probably been screwed over at one point. As crime statistics overwhelmingly bear out, you were most likely screwed over by somebody of the same race. Once they figure this out, then I don't hate them any more.
2) Political extremists. This is not to say that I hate those with extreme views. Quite the contrary in fact since I have some pretty extreme ones myself. What I hate is those who vilify anyone who has a contrary position. Consider the immigration issue. There are those who think that all illegal immigrants should be deported, after all 'what part of illegal don't you understand'. Then there are those who think that they all immigrants are just here seeking a better life, should be embraced, and anybody who expresses concerns about any of them are bigoted and uncaring. I hate them both. However, from a factual standpoint the latter is slightly less full of shit I suppose. That don't mean I hate them any less.
3) Raw tomatoes
4) People that exploit suffering or fear for financial gain or to secure power. I'm not talking about morticians, or even ambulance chasing attorneys. I did however say that I would not list individuals. My old man told me, "Son, no matter how shitty things get, somebody always benefits from the status quo". These are the people that I hate.
5) Francophiles. Give it up.......English won!
6) Filet Mignon (say, isn't that a French phrase?), or any other decent cut of beef, that is 'well done'.
7) Caesar's Palace.
8) Golf.
9) Pico de Gallo.
10) Greasy, spamming, malware-spewing, robo-calling, denizens of the cyber universe. I would consider hell as a viable option if I am able to administer your daily pineapple (think "Little Nicky").
It's not so much the why that gave me pause to thing but rather the how. Apparently I used the word 'hate' somewhere in there. So I thought this might be a good time for me to discuss words. Anyone who knows me can attest that I enjoy this. I am troubled when I hear people say that two words means 'the same thing'. Naturally this is not true, otherwise we would just have one word.
So I wish to pontificate on dislike vs. hate. 'Pontificate' is a nice word. It reminds me of a Little Rascals joke I know. Naturally, Buckwheat delivers the punchline. Before I do that I wish to separate out love and hate from the mix. I do not believe these are end points for a spectrum of opinion, rather they are two different sides of the same emotionally governed coin. There is a fine line between love and hate and when the conversion occurs they are usually of the same magnitude. Think mathematics. The absolute value of negative six is six. Examples could be: The person who I have loved for a long time who betrays me is now my worst enemy. A long time adversary makes a magnaminous gesture and is now my best buddy in the world.
Like and dislike lack an emotional component. Think about the girl in college who said the she really 'liked' you. Just in case you didn't know already, that means that there was absolutely no chance she would have ever had sex with you. It's far easier to bone the ones that 'hate' you since their is a built-in emotional component that is at least present. And, if my analysis is correct, can be converted into something that makes 'make-up sex' seem like going to the prom with your sister.
Finally I am about to make my point. We have like on one end and dislike on the other. Ultimately nobody cares what we like and dislike, unless of course they love or hate them. When there is no emotional component, people don't care as much. Hence people will result to hyperbole to make their views known. I should probably go back and see where I have used the word 'hate'. I am lazy though, so I will just start a fresh list. I will naturally not list individuals. Why, because there are no individuals that I hate. There are certain groups that I hate, but mostly there are acts and attitudes that I hate. Alas, many individuals do them on occasional. So without further ado:
Uncle John's top-ten list of hated things
1) White supremacists. The thing that I find most laughable about this group is their parareligious admiration for Hitler. Let's turn back the clock to post-Weimar Germany. You are a tattooed and pierced person with a lengthy record of criminal mischief and drug-dealing. You are going to be one of the first that is 'culled' from the tribe.
The truth is I hate any group that preaches hate. I am merely reflecting back at them what they project out. Most of these kids (yes I used the word 'kids' since they are typically young and stupid) are just pissed off about some type of perceived injustice. Many of them have probably been screwed over at one point. As crime statistics overwhelmingly bear out, you were most likely screwed over by somebody of the same race. Once they figure this out, then I don't hate them any more.
2) Political extremists. This is not to say that I hate those with extreme views. Quite the contrary in fact since I have some pretty extreme ones myself. What I hate is those who vilify anyone who has a contrary position. Consider the immigration issue. There are those who think that all illegal immigrants should be deported, after all 'what part of illegal don't you understand'. Then there are those who think that they all immigrants are just here seeking a better life, should be embraced, and anybody who expresses concerns about any of them are bigoted and uncaring. I hate them both. However, from a factual standpoint the latter is slightly less full of shit I suppose. That don't mean I hate them any less.
3) Raw tomatoes
4) People that exploit suffering or fear for financial gain or to secure power. I'm not talking about morticians, or even ambulance chasing attorneys. I did however say that I would not list individuals. My old man told me, "Son, no matter how shitty things get, somebody always benefits from the status quo". These are the people that I hate.
5) Francophiles. Give it up.......English won!
6) Filet Mignon (say, isn't that a French phrase?), or any other decent cut of beef, that is 'well done'.
7) Caesar's Palace.
8) Golf.
9) Pico de Gallo.
10) Greasy, spamming, malware-spewing, robo-calling, denizens of the cyber universe. I would consider hell as a viable option if I am able to administer your daily pineapple (think "Little Nicky").
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
President Huntsman
I'll make this brief. Back in the day when Jon Huntsman was elected as Governor, I distinctly remember commenting that this guy had the proper mix of smarts, business and governmental savvy, centrist thinking and governing style, and a smokin' hot wife. In short,l he is a political thoroughbred.
I am saying right now that he will win the Republican nomination and defeat Obama. He will also be the only Republican presidential candidate I have voted for aside from Reagan in 1984.
I will produce this in about 16 months and look like a freaking genius if he wins. If he doesn't I will be able to correctly say, 'what a shame he didn't'.
I am saying right now that he will win the Republican nomination and defeat Obama. He will also be the only Republican presidential candidate I have voted for aside from Reagan in 1984.
I will produce this in about 16 months and look like a freaking genius if he wins. If he doesn't I will be able to correctly say, 'what a shame he didn't'.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
"Perfect" things, Rocky Horror, and high school graduation
There are few perfect things in this world. Many beautiful things, but few that are transcendent. Beautiful things have flaws, perfection is transcendent. The only perfect things I know are firmly rooted in the religious realm. Much of the spiritual, or mystic, realm is flawed. Things that move me emotionally are frequently flawed, but they are moving nonetheless.
Whew......that was all cryptic enough. What's my point? Let me tell you some things that move me. A perfectly ripe peach, the Brandenburg concertos and Beethoven's 9th, a solitary soak at DFHS on a stormy day, warm sand underfoot, having my buddy Jay roll two straight 'ones' when attempting to take Bucharest at 2:1 odds. My transcendent moments I share only with those who are very close to me. I did have a moment after I climbed Lone Peak that involved a cold beer and a hot shower that was pretty close to transcendent though.
Towards the end of Rocky Horror, Frank 'n furter sings about the need to do wild stuff when you're young in order that you'll have memories that will last a lifetime. I've done a lot of crazy stuff in my life. Most of it recalled in a non-specific sense and a neutral judgement. Some things I regret. Most of what I regret was things I said, not actions. There are a lot of things I've done that I'm not proud of, but few that I've regretted. In fact, many of these things I still recall with fondness. I've no desire to repeat nor revisit these things, but I've no regrets.
FInally I went to son number two's high school graduation. It is indeed a microcosm of those things in high school that were good and bad. It all started a few weeks ago. There are always a number of kids that are not going to graduate. They, or typically their parents, demand that some last-minute make-up assignment be given so they can graduate. Graduating high-school is a joke. Basically all you need to do is show up and make even a half-assed attempt to do the work. Alas, many cannot even do that yet they feel entitled. We were sent out a number of rules for the graduation ceremony. NO RUNNING, NO JUMPING, NO SKIPPING, and most important of all NO HORSEPLAY! Well not exactly, but people still wear leis, do the fist and arm pumping, have their numbskull posses scream from the peanut gallery, and wear hot pink tennis shoes so they can 'be comfortable' which is just their bullshit excuse for thinking they are cool. I'm going to advise son number three to do a few things when he graduates next year. First wear some ugly ass fluorescent shoes that 'light up' when you step on them. Second I will weigh him down with leis. Third, I will scream, hoot, and holler for 30 seconds in an attempt to drown out the names of as many kids as possible. After all, they aren't important, just MY kid. At least this is the view of the assholes that ruin graduation every year by thinking they are the exception.
Some would say I am picking on 'polys'. I suppose that is a fair critique. Personally, I love the idea of leis. I think the prohibition on leis at graduation is a bad rule. Nonetheless it is a rule, so it should be obeyed. If they wish to challenge it then let me know. I will show up and fight for leis. Let me tell you what breaks my heart about the poly graduates. The girls are virtually ignored, and the boys inevitably self-identify as football players. It is a tragedy that aside from athletics and student government they rarely distinguish themselves. And this type of attitude is by no means relegated to polys, but I find it the hardest to accept. Islanders have a proud history of sacrifice for an ideal. They are a innately peaceful people, but have a strong warrior ethos infuses in them. Consider the long odds their ancestors faced in coming, yet they did it anyway. And what is the result? Ask yourself how many poly professionals or military do you know? These are the people that should be emulated, not the football punk-asses that are already forgotten.
Finally, I noticed a particluar trend in female summer fashions today. It consists of baby doll type dresses that only reach down to the mid-thigh. I suppose if there were just one or two girls wearing this ensemble (and who had toned calves and thighs) they could have really rocked it. When seemingly every other girl is wearing this, it becomes mundane and hence ugly. Being unique is the way to get noticed. Take a lesson for someone's mom who wore a form fitting tan, knee-length, skirt, with a white men's dress shirt, and some understated sandals. Mmmmmm........now if I can just talk my wife into wearing that!
Whew......that was all cryptic enough. What's my point? Let me tell you some things that move me. A perfectly ripe peach, the Brandenburg concertos and Beethoven's 9th, a solitary soak at DFHS on a stormy day, warm sand underfoot, having my buddy Jay roll two straight 'ones' when attempting to take Bucharest at 2:1 odds. My transcendent moments I share only with those who are very close to me. I did have a moment after I climbed Lone Peak that involved a cold beer and a hot shower that was pretty close to transcendent though.
Towards the end of Rocky Horror, Frank 'n furter sings about the need to do wild stuff when you're young in order that you'll have memories that will last a lifetime. I've done a lot of crazy stuff in my life. Most of it recalled in a non-specific sense and a neutral judgement. Some things I regret. Most of what I regret was things I said, not actions. There are a lot of things I've done that I'm not proud of, but few that I've regretted. In fact, many of these things I still recall with fondness. I've no desire to repeat nor revisit these things, but I've no regrets.
FInally I went to son number two's high school graduation. It is indeed a microcosm of those things in high school that were good and bad. It all started a few weeks ago. There are always a number of kids that are not going to graduate. They, or typically their parents, demand that some last-minute make-up assignment be given so they can graduate. Graduating high-school is a joke. Basically all you need to do is show up and make even a half-assed attempt to do the work. Alas, many cannot even do that yet they feel entitled. We were sent out a number of rules for the graduation ceremony. NO RUNNING, NO JUMPING, NO SKIPPING, and most important of all NO HORSEPLAY! Well not exactly, but people still wear leis, do the fist and arm pumping, have their numbskull posses scream from the peanut gallery, and wear hot pink tennis shoes so they can 'be comfortable' which is just their bullshit excuse for thinking they are cool. I'm going to advise son number three to do a few things when he graduates next year. First wear some ugly ass fluorescent shoes that 'light up' when you step on them. Second I will weigh him down with leis. Third, I will scream, hoot, and holler for 30 seconds in an attempt to drown out the names of as many kids as possible. After all, they aren't important, just MY kid. At least this is the view of the assholes that ruin graduation every year by thinking they are the exception.
Some would say I am picking on 'polys'. I suppose that is a fair critique. Personally, I love the idea of leis. I think the prohibition on leis at graduation is a bad rule. Nonetheless it is a rule, so it should be obeyed. If they wish to challenge it then let me know. I will show up and fight for leis. Let me tell you what breaks my heart about the poly graduates. The girls are virtually ignored, and the boys inevitably self-identify as football players. It is a tragedy that aside from athletics and student government they rarely distinguish themselves. And this type of attitude is by no means relegated to polys, but I find it the hardest to accept. Islanders have a proud history of sacrifice for an ideal. They are a innately peaceful people, but have a strong warrior ethos infuses in them. Consider the long odds their ancestors faced in coming, yet they did it anyway. And what is the result? Ask yourself how many poly professionals or military do you know? These are the people that should be emulated, not the football punk-asses that are already forgotten.
Finally, I noticed a particluar trend in female summer fashions today. It consists of baby doll type dresses that only reach down to the mid-thigh. I suppose if there were just one or two girls wearing this ensemble (and who had toned calves and thighs) they could have really rocked it. When seemingly every other girl is wearing this, it becomes mundane and hence ugly. Being unique is the way to get noticed. Take a lesson for someone's mom who wore a form fitting tan, knee-length, skirt, with a white men's dress shirt, and some understated sandals. Mmmmmm........now if I can just talk my wife into wearing that!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
frustration at the 'in window' and Noah's Ark
This is a unique posting for me since it is done in the morning rather than the evening or night. I just woke from a dream which merited mentioning here. I was at a theme park entrance.....a Disneyland type thing if you will......and I was filling prescriptions for people. There was a line of perhaps 100 plus people yet they were waiting. The people I was trying to help were an seeming amalgam of every difficulty I've ever had at the 'in window' where I work.
Let me see if I recall all the details. It was a young lady that had just been recently married. As is often the case in this sitatuation I was asking her questions but she would answer by looking at her husband as if to ssay, "you want to handle this one honey?". I can certainly understand that if a newlywed couple had some stranger coming up and asking for her phone number and address it would be a huge problem. A problem that might very well be best handled by her new husband. I'm your pharmacist. There are good reasons (one of them being legal requirements) why I need to know this stuff. So grow the **** up!
The dream continued as I went through her demographics. "What is your address?". The first address made no sense being something like 60 North 1170 North. So I asked is that 1170 E or 1170 W. Then they start giving me another address, but this one without coordinates i.e. I live on 2175 11th St.. Then they get into a lively debate about what city they live in. I really enjoy this one. People who live squarely in West Valley or Magna will most frequently say the live in Salt Lake City. My personal favorite was a guy that lived on 35th South and about 56th West and stridently maintained he lived in West Jordan. There is another city between the city he lives in and West Jordan!
The dream still continued with phone numbers. Should it be her cell, or his cell since he's a trucker and on the road a lot, or their home phone. (I always love it when trucker's explain to me that they are on the road a lot. NO SHIT!! That comes as a complete surprise to me since your job is to operate trucks and transport goods on the road!).
I woke up about here. What a relief it was. I hadn't made it to her allergies or insurance. I've had lots of frustrating answers to these over the years. Maybe that will be tonight's dream.
Moving on.........Noah's Ark. Like many others, I have been fascinated by this one for years. I think my particular take is unique hence I am sharing it here. My first beef is with those who believe that everything in the bible happened literally and precisely as it is written. I do not believe for a second that the entire earth's surface was covered with water. Where did the water come from? Where did it go? Yes, yes, yes I know that God works miracles. I've seen them and experienced many. I also know that God, being the creator of the universe, uses natural means subject to rules and contraints that he created. So was there a Noah? Yes. Did he build and ark? Yes. Was their a flood that deluged where he lived? Yes, but just his area not the entire earth's surface. Did he have two or more of every species on the earth? Without answering this directly I would ask how at least two of every species could be housed in the dimensions that the bible provides us. Or perhaps it was just a sample that when released migrated out and covered the entire earth in an impossibly fast time and evolved wildly. Oops, I forgot evolution doesn't exist. It doesn't matter that it is being actively observed in species right now. It just seems to me that if someone hadn't postulated that Man descended from apes but everything else is evolved then Darwin's 'theory' would instead be referred to as what it is......FACT
What has perplexed me is the where and when of Noah. I have studied maps to come up with my answer. Not land maps though, rather ocean maps. Before discussing the four options I propose, I wish to talk about Mount Ararat. I don't believe it is the mountain in Turkey that carries the name today. We have had people all over it for years and they have uncovered zilch. Why? Because it didn't stop there. The ark probably came to rest at the BASE of some large hill which Noah called Ararat. They then piled out and went back to living with his livestock which is all he probably threw on the boat. Look, I realize that I am taking all the magic out of the story but I am not disputing nor diminishing the miraculous nature of what happened. As I mentioned earlier, I believe the story.
I digress again. Where could Noah's ark have occured. Where could a combination of sudden and prolonged rains (with maybe an earthquake to shift around a large body of water......hint.....hint) could deluge a large enough area that people cannot merely flee for high ground. We also know that the oceans were at a lower level a few thousand years back.
Option 1: The areas surrounding the Red Sea. This would put Noah squarely in "Bible Land". The population, the wood, the mountainous terrain (including a mountain called Arafat in the Sinai). Besides God did in the Egyptian army here as a favor to Moses.
Option 2: The northern Persian Gulf near in Southern Iraq. Hey why not! Abraham came out of the area. The population is there, the wood. A combination of floods coming out of the north via the river and a sudden rise in the gulf might do it. The only problem? No mountains anywhere close to the area.
Option 3: The central Med. There is a subterranean land bridge that connects Tunisia to Sicily. If the strait of Gibralter had landlocked the Med at this time, then the disparity of levels between the Atlantic and the Med would widen. The Med has a much higher evaporation rate so it would be even lower. This would open up a large swath of land between Tunisia and Sicily. Could mere rainfall flod the entire Med. No. Could a breach at Gibralter do it. YES. Perhaps this might be Atlantis?
Option 4: This is a variant of 3. The western shores of the Black Sea. There would be a second choke point for water in the Dardanelles. A combination of high rains, spring runoff, and the aforementioned breach of Gibraltar would have flooded the entire 'world' of Noah and would have done it quickly and unlike the Red Sea or Persian Gulf variants the water wouldn't have gone anywhere soon. The Crimea was probably the final resting place of the ark. There is ample archaelogic evidence for the Gibraltar breach. There are subterranean city sites along the Egytian and Greek coastline. There is also a lot of these in the Western Black Sea in the massive fan on the Danube. A large flat area from which there is no fleeing to higher ground, especially when spring floods have already bogged everything down.
Don't believe me? Check out the ocean maps.
Let me see if I recall all the details. It was a young lady that had just been recently married. As is often the case in this sitatuation I was asking her questions but she would answer by looking at her husband as if to ssay, "you want to handle this one honey?". I can certainly understand that if a newlywed couple had some stranger coming up and asking for her phone number and address it would be a huge problem. A problem that might very well be best handled by her new husband. I'm your pharmacist. There are good reasons (one of them being legal requirements) why I need to know this stuff. So grow the **** up!
The dream continued as I went through her demographics. "What is your address?". The first address made no sense being something like 60 North 1170 North. So I asked is that 1170 E or 1170 W. Then they start giving me another address, but this one without coordinates i.e. I live on 2175 11th St.. Then they get into a lively debate about what city they live in. I really enjoy this one. People who live squarely in West Valley or Magna will most frequently say the live in Salt Lake City. My personal favorite was a guy that lived on 35th South and about 56th West and stridently maintained he lived in West Jordan. There is another city between the city he lives in and West Jordan!
The dream still continued with phone numbers. Should it be her cell, or his cell since he's a trucker and on the road a lot, or their home phone. (I always love it when trucker's explain to me that they are on the road a lot. NO SHIT!! That comes as a complete surprise to me since your job is to operate trucks and transport goods on the road!).
I woke up about here. What a relief it was. I hadn't made it to her allergies or insurance. I've had lots of frustrating answers to these over the years. Maybe that will be tonight's dream.
Moving on.........Noah's Ark. Like many others, I have been fascinated by this one for years. I think my particular take is unique hence I am sharing it here. My first beef is with those who believe that everything in the bible happened literally and precisely as it is written. I do not believe for a second that the entire earth's surface was covered with water. Where did the water come from? Where did it go? Yes, yes, yes I know that God works miracles. I've seen them and experienced many. I also know that God, being the creator of the universe, uses natural means subject to rules and contraints that he created. So was there a Noah? Yes. Did he build and ark? Yes. Was their a flood that deluged where he lived? Yes, but just his area not the entire earth's surface. Did he have two or more of every species on the earth? Without answering this directly I would ask how at least two of every species could be housed in the dimensions that the bible provides us. Or perhaps it was just a sample that when released migrated out and covered the entire earth in an impossibly fast time and evolved wildly. Oops, I forgot evolution doesn't exist. It doesn't matter that it is being actively observed in species right now. It just seems to me that if someone hadn't postulated that Man descended from apes but everything else is evolved then Darwin's 'theory' would instead be referred to as what it is......FACT
What has perplexed me is the where and when of Noah. I have studied maps to come up with my answer. Not land maps though, rather ocean maps. Before discussing the four options I propose, I wish to talk about Mount Ararat. I don't believe it is the mountain in Turkey that carries the name today. We have had people all over it for years and they have uncovered zilch. Why? Because it didn't stop there. The ark probably came to rest at the BASE of some large hill which Noah called Ararat. They then piled out and went back to living with his livestock which is all he probably threw on the boat. Look, I realize that I am taking all the magic out of the story but I am not disputing nor diminishing the miraculous nature of what happened. As I mentioned earlier, I believe the story.
I digress again. Where could Noah's ark have occured. Where could a combination of sudden and prolonged rains (with maybe an earthquake to shift around a large body of water......hint.....hint) could deluge a large enough area that people cannot merely flee for high ground. We also know that the oceans were at a lower level a few thousand years back.
Option 1: The areas surrounding the Red Sea. This would put Noah squarely in "Bible Land". The population, the wood, the mountainous terrain (including a mountain called Arafat in the Sinai). Besides God did in the Egyptian army here as a favor to Moses.
Option 2: The northern Persian Gulf near in Southern Iraq. Hey why not! Abraham came out of the area. The population is there, the wood. A combination of floods coming out of the north via the river and a sudden rise in the gulf might do it. The only problem? No mountains anywhere close to the area.
Option 3: The central Med. There is a subterranean land bridge that connects Tunisia to Sicily. If the strait of Gibralter had landlocked the Med at this time, then the disparity of levels between the Atlantic and the Med would widen. The Med has a much higher evaporation rate so it would be even lower. This would open up a large swath of land between Tunisia and Sicily. Could mere rainfall flod the entire Med. No. Could a breach at Gibralter do it. YES. Perhaps this might be Atlantis?
Option 4: This is a variant of 3. The western shores of the Black Sea. There would be a second choke point for water in the Dardanelles. A combination of high rains, spring runoff, and the aforementioned breach of Gibraltar would have flooded the entire 'world' of Noah and would have done it quickly and unlike the Red Sea or Persian Gulf variants the water wouldn't have gone anywhere soon. The Crimea was probably the final resting place of the ark. There is ample archaelogic evidence for the Gibraltar breach. There are subterranean city sites along the Egytian and Greek coastline. There is also a lot of these in the Western Black Sea in the massive fan on the Danube. A large flat area from which there is no fleeing to higher ground, especially when spring floods have already bogged everything down.
Don't believe me? Check out the ocean maps.
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