Why run with the crowd when you can run around in circles?

Monday, June 22, 2015


By now most of you know my strong aversion to funerals.  All that sad boo-hoo, woe is me, why did my loved one have to die?  I dunno, because he/she was 102 and that’s how life works?  Yes, it is tragic when someone living a wonderful life has to go, and you will miss them to the ends of the earth.  No doubt about it, death sucks for the living. But funerals don’t seem to me to be a good way to celebrate someone’s life.

My friends know what to do with me when I push off for the next port.  Cremate me; stick me in a clear mason jar.  Put me on the ‘round table’ at my favorite shipyard, where everyone gathers.  On a pedestal of course, so I can see over the booze bottles.  Make sure there’s lobster and mussels.  Have a big, happy party.  Tell funny stories about me.  No crying!  I lived well, and it was my time, even if it wasn’t.   Then, at the end of the evening, (maybe a less intoxicated person should carry the jar to the water, because I would hate to spend eternity pasted to the blacktop), whoever’s drunkest gets to dump me out the end of the pier in my favorite harbor, so I can theoretically drift on the currents. 

The only problem with this plan is that all my friends are significantly older, so odds are right up there that I’ll be the last man standing.  Which leads to my new plan, as I rapidly approach that age where the early leavers are starting to bugger off with hardly a see ya later.  I don’t want to watch my friends kick off one by one, facing  all those sad, somber funerals that the remaining relatives will put on, leaving no one left to come to my party. 

So, as much as I love you all, sorry, but I’m going to have to replace you all with a bunch of 20 year olds.  

*this post is for 1dozenraw.  Enjoy the next port my friend.

Friday, April 10, 2015

When Life Hands You Chickpeas

I feel so bad for these companies that show a bit of something that might actually kill the weakest of our species, which these days seems to be a growing number.  As someone who lives on an organic farm where all precautions are taken at all times, I know just how ridiculously low the acceptable numbers are.  Just like the level of acceptable radiation was low till the earthquake in Japan sent their nuclear reactors’ waste into the air and sea.  After that, governments worldwide raised the acceptable level.  Now a higher level than was previously ok won’t kill us?  Huh, imagine that.

Whenever a company shows a tiny bit of listeria, a common bacteria found in SOIL and WATER, everyone goes nuts and throws away whatever they may have, and will never ever buy that brand again.  I, on the other hand, go the opposite way and buy more, unless it’s already something I don’t eat, like ice cream, which is made with dairy and sugar, two things I avoid.  I still remember the glory days of tomatoes and cantaloupes showing signs of listeria, because, you know, they grow in soil and get watered.  I love both, and during that phase, stores were all but giving them away as no one would buy them.  I wish more fresh food would make this list more often; I could afford to shop again.  I ate gobs of tomatoes and mountains of cantaloupes, until the furor wore off and people forgot and prices crept back up again.

I know that although we are human, we are entities made up of bacteria, as is everything else.  If listeria levels across the board suddenly went up on earth and therefore in everything we eat, the government would simply raise the acceptable level as they did with radiation.  Then none of these ‘scary/dangerous’ foods would be a threat according to the new 'ok' levels.  What would remain the same is that only the weakest would be affected, which is nature intended.  Last I checked she’s still in charge, despite humans believing they control the universe.  And in nature, the weak aren't designed to survive.

I usually make my own hummus using sprouted chickpeas, as it’s cheaper and better, but now, stores will most likely be giving away hummus, so I’m off to the store to splurge.  Think I'll survive? 

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Hick Chicks

We were parked outside the back door of one of the city’s finest restaurants, unloading boxes of organic greens, when a young woman popped out the kitchen door, approached us, and asked,

“Do you know where I can get the tea from here?”

I looked at my delivery partner; she looked blankly back at me. It turned out that we were both thinking the same thing: why would this person not ask the kitchen staff about their tea, and what was so good about it that she wanted some so badly?

I said, “ I’m sorry, what?”

“The tea,” she repeated. “You know, the train.”

Duh, oohhhh. The T. By way of explanation for my ignorance, I pointed to the out-of-state farm plate on the delivery van. She shook her head and went back inside the restaurant to ask less countrified people about transportation.

Friday, January 06, 2012

Don't Mess With the Redneck Chicks

A true story of my ‘hood.

Two guys in their early 20’s had been burglarizing in the city for a while, but it was getting old. Since the downturn in the economy, there were always so many nosy neighbors gadding about, reporting suspicious activity. It was hard to get away cleanly.

“Ya know what we need to do?” says one. “what?” says the other. “Jack a white van and head to the ‘burbs. All those folks are loaded, and no neighbors would think twice about a white van in the drive. We’ll go in all cool like we’re workin there, and all will be golden.”

“Man, that’s a great idea. Lets go look for a van.”

Fast forward to the duo driving south out of the city, because that’s where they heard all the rich folk live.

They drive blindly, and find a remote house on a quite street. 'Yeah, this is it. Let’s go.'

They are used to folk who work 9-5. It’s 2. They bust in, and start grabbing stuff they want to take.

Being latchkey kids, they have no concept of mom coming home to meet the bus at 3.

Mom pulls into her single lane drive behind the white van. 'Hmmm, I’ve requested no workmen….what’s up?' She walks in to find her possessions piled by the front door. And does country mother freak out, run screaming from the house? Nah, not in this hood. She’s had a rough day, and all that anger is burning…"HEY ARE YOU ASSHOLES STEALING MY HARD EARNED STUFF???" The said assholes stand stunned, like deer caught in the headlights….And Country Mom starts throwing punches. "NONONONO…..you dumbf*cks"….The yelling and screaming goes on, far beyond what these city boys have ever encountered, and the two robbers think, hell the neighbors gotta notice, we’d better bail….but Mom’s car is blocking their stolen vehicle. Crap, nothing to do but head for the woods. How bad can it be? Les Stroud and Bear Grilis do it all the time…..

Yeah well, this is swamp yankee woods. Its entirely filled with briars and muck.

The police report stated that the suspects were apprehended shortly after dark……

Of course they were, pansy city boys…no doubt running down the road, hands in the air, shouting, 'for gosh sakes someone call the cops to arrest us. Get us out of here and take us to jail where it’s warm and dry.'

I hope the word spreads: don’t underestimate country folk, especially swamp yankees. You city folk may be used to living behind lock and key, but we in the woods know that our muck is mightier, and we’re not putting up with any crap from you.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Burned out on Christmas

Maybe if it hadn’t started in September, I wouldn’t be sick of it. And playing Christmas carols two weeks before thanksgiving? I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.

I try my best to support my wonderful local hardware store filled with personable, knowledgeable staff, but occasionally find that I have to set foot in that big dumb chain hardware store, like the other night. My hardware store closes at six. I foolishly ran out of thread sealant tape at 7, and if I didn’t go get some right then to finish the plumbing job, there would have been no water until the next day.

Ever since there were green leaves on the trees, I’ve I entered through the contractors entrance in an attempt to avoid the massive Christmas display. I also try to avoid the orange panhandling employees, which is nearly impossible. 'Would you like a quote on a new kitchen?' 'Can we interest you in our flooring?' 'May I show you some options for window replacements?' 'Do you want to see what’s under my orange vest?'


What pushed me over the edge the other night wasn’t that it was impossible not be whacked in the face with a poinsettia in every aisle, nor was it the Christmas music playing for the second month in a row. It was the guy standing next to me, loudly humming along to the carol, completely off key.

I’m blaming this completely traumatic event on the fact that Christmas is now a week away, and I’ve done absolutely NOTHING.*

Can I pull it off before Sunday? Will I find the motivation to care?

*We won’t mention the fact that I just found out that Christmas was a week away, not two like I thought.