"Best of 2011 Lis...Wait"

I just frassed through the last few January's since I started this dumb blog and most of my previous New Year scribblings have been personal reviews. B#tching about being drunk or my weight or blah blah blah...For that, I'm sorry. Really, truly. And as a guy that doesn't make resolutions that much any more, that'll be one of the last times I attempt to be an apologist. As a definition of character as I creep up on my 4th decade, I kind of think I just need to get back to nutting up and shutting up and standing by certain convictions. Prevent myself from seeming wimby wimby on matters. So my desire for 2012, if not resolve, is to spend some time digging deep into my character to see if there are areas of growth that I can learn from and hopefully make me calmer hanging out in my own skin. (I do that a lot. And by "skin" I mean "head". And we all know that my head space is a very, very messy place to kick it.


2011, for what it's worth...felt like a really strange fever dream. Like how your eyes feel after having been in a pool for hours. Or the feeling you think treading water in an ocean must be like after the Indianapolis has sunk and right before the PBY picks you out of the water- It sucks, but at least you didn't get eaten by a shark. Nothing really, really bad happened this year to frass about on a personal level. I can tell you all as subjectively and honestly as I can that 2011 just really wasn't my favorite year. Or rather, it wasn't until the last few months or so that I really started to feel something of a shift in the world that was palpable and controllable. And that gave me a smidgen of comfort.


I'm starting off 2012 by listing a few of my favorite things from 2011 in addition to some things that warranted our either our disdain/disgust/wrath or our accolades and attention. For those that know me...some of these topics will wind up being about as political as I ever tend to get- and even my politicking will be as bland and generic as ketchup. As always, if I didn't see your gig it doesn't mean it wasn't the best...I just don't see a f#ck ton of theater. I'm trying to change that a bit...BUT NO APOLOGIES!!!! NONE!


Ahem:



Personal Best's: I managed to run 3 half-mary's, two 10K's, (And PR every time). I moved to a vegetarian dominated diet. I didn't over-over spend for the year. I lost weight, avoided hard alcohol, picked up a really enjoyable (knock on wood) new job, performed in 3 shows (and met some great new people. AND did a musical...AND a well-attended Fringe Show.), saw my first Twins game in the new stadium, went camping at the same Kampground, kept up the garden and transformed the back forty into the start of something pretty, threw a quiet raging party, began a noble slumber on my tempurpedic bed, went to Vegas for work, grew an EPIC beard, started hitting karate regularly, had a great birthday, went to some amazing new restaurants, and did some home projects that went outside of my comfort zone. Oh, and I finally got myself a new phone. I stiiiiill love technology...



Ehhhhh...that sucks: I worked some s#itty...s#itty temp jobs that started to drag me down to a level of lip-biting anxiety that nearly bested me. I got mega-sized sick for the first time in 15 years and lost my voice- awesome when you're in a musical. Had some car kerfluffles/break-downs and needed new tires. I lost my driver's liscense in Vegas. I busted my central a/c playing with a roto-tiller forcing me to undergo a few unwanted expenses...and finished up late Fall/early Winter with some really soul-dislodging news.





People/Things in 2011 that warranted a big thumbs up:

The "Occupy" protestors. Lean whatever way you want to politically. Bitch about how they only had a few hardships to endure and it's nowhere NEAR how awful it is in other parts of the world...but: We, as a nation, can still make a lot of noise when we want to. And it was here, Minny. And it'll take a select few hermits who won't know the difference between the 1%/99%. That much was made clear. And good on those who did it.


My friends and family. I get that this is a blanket statement, but hear me out- My mom...who went outside of her own comfort zone to volunteer and keep volunteering at the theater. To taking charge of and actively working to pimp out her antiquities like a 21st century Marcus Brodey. My brother and his family- raising two of the most adorable and wickedly funny children. For surviving a corporate downsizing and move. And for continuing to be an example of responsibility, respect, and loyalty to the rest of us.



My extended family...we managed to get through '11 without any death's, thank the Gods. My uncle managed to survive his heart surgery. My aunt/uncle on the West Coast found newer (better) employment in sunny San Diego. My cousins remained focused and entreprenuerial.

My friends who had the babies. There were sooooo many babies. Like, 500 babies. And they'll probably all be good at sports. And great parents all...

My friends who found new, exciting, and challenging work.

My friends who (A) ran with me. There support and energy kept me moving forward. Who (B) ran either their first marathon (an amazing event, btw) or their first half- it was a year for friends to push themselves into something new. And lastly who (C) started to take up running/fitness routines to frame their own personal fitness goals: Whether it was for rehabilitative purposes, health, weight-loss...There were so many people on F'Book who started an affair with the treadmill and it just made my heart happy every time I would read their status.


My friends who moved/bought houses/bigger boats...


My friend AL who got himself a hairy stepson in the form of Deuce.



My roommate. After we talked about how he's staying for the immediate future, he has consistently proven to be a solid and stand-up man. You should meet him. Or at the very least, introduce him to any single lady-friends.

My neighborhood. I've hermited a lot in 2011, so it's nice NE Mipples has a metric f#ck ton of options regarding restaurants and things to do. Heidi's was my favorite surprise of 2011, but I'm still in love with my neighborhood after 7 years. M'wah.

As an actron/power nerd I'd be so very, very remiss if I didn't say Craiggles and Anna getting their Ivey dues, the fantastic productions of "August: Osage County" at Park Square and "Street Scene" w/Girl Friday...man. I saw some beautiful intimate shows/performances (and some amazingly fun/smiley confections ala' "Mercy Watson" and "Hairspray") but the ensemble work moved these productions into a higher pantheon of shows I'll be digesting and talking about for a while. Shows and performances that make me want to be a better actor myself. Yeah.

The casts of "Joseph", "12 Angry", and "Knit et.al"...well I think I lucked out. I really really did. And had a great time during every show.



And for my final note: Thank you, movie studios. Thank you for putting out the kind of nerdy, fantastic fare that we've been waiting for and heaping it on. I'm talking to you, Marvel. Tell DC that "Batman" isn't their only property and that they should NEVER have cocked up "Green Lantern" like they did. AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!!!

People who should be taken down a notch from 2011: Politicians. Just. Ohhhh...f#ck it. Here's the thing, and this is real and the truth- We elect people to make decisions for us, and preferably in our best interest. And...and they just sit their idly and have to shut down the fucking gov't just to make a decision? I really could give a shit on the details- people lost jobs. Work. Activities meant to stimulate local (seasonal) business were shut down. So here's a thought: Stay open. Work overtime. Because it's what the rest of us schlubs are forced to do. And usually the word "mandatory" comes before it. I'd hate to think we're impeding tee time.

And if, if I hear about how so and so raised $x million dollars on a campaign...I'm liable to slam my head in a door. I need that money too. More than you! I need a bathroom and garage! You want elected? Prove you can do something. Better yet, prove you can do it on a budget...like the rest of us. And fix my tub.


MN Sports teams. You whiney little grundles. Win some f#cking games for a change. Use the Lynx as your shining example if you need to. Ish, ish, ish...

F'Book. Stop changing every five minutes. You're infuriating. And terrible for we ADHD sufferers.

Bacon. Enough. Yuck. Same with Breakfast. "Most important meal of the day" my ass. You're giving a complex to lunch, second breakfast, and dinner.

Movie Review: The Robber (2010)

(*Mild Spoiler Warnings)

I've been watching kung-fu/chop-sockey movies for a long, looooong time. Since getting into karate years ago, I found that I could establish a new appreciation for how the respective martial art forms translate (usually into pretty s#itty movies) onto the big screen. Now if we wanted to strike up a parallel, you probably couldn't get me to draw the same conclusion about running movies. While running/distance running/recreational (and Olympic) racing can been found onscreen for years as a plot device ("Chariots of Fire", "Personal Best", both "Prefontaine" movies...including the one with Crudup and the other one with Jordan Catalano come to mind), those films tend to fall in the "dull" category of "sports films".

Then we have movies dealing with a character "running" running and...yeah, I've frassed about good running in movies before. (Franke Potente does it RIGHT in "Run Lola Run", Matt Damon in the "Bourne" movies, Daniel Craig as "Bond", the Mayan's in "Apocalypto"...say what you will about Mel, but he runs well in movies ala' "Lethal Weapon 2" and directs good running. The same, however, can not be said about Mr. Steven "Flippers" Seagal. It's true)

As another parallel, I didn't start noticing running (i.e. how people run) in movies universally until I started distance/race training. (See "Apocalypto") Because let's face it: A movie with people karate chopping people in the face to advance the plot is infinitely more rewarding than a movie about watching Marathon after Marathon. (Pleeeease, don't get me wrong- it's important to WATCH races live as I've already established. The cheering is brilliant. The concept of it onscreen, though is akin to watching "Manos" over and over.)

Since I 1st heard of this movie I was very curious, and it took me a while to get it in my queue line so that I could enjoy it on my big screen- And I was presented with a first: An enjoyable and wholly satisfying heist thriller that uses running as the through line. I just said that.

Based on the true life exploits of the Austrian Bank Robber "Shotgun Ronnie" aka Johann Kastenberger, it tells the tale of a marathon runner who is released from prison only to start back on a criminal path as soon as he's released. His M.O. includes wearing a Ronald Reagan mask and knocking over multiple banks at a time- by running from bank to bank. Yes. In the meantime, he keeps up his alibi by setting numerous Austrian marathon records including a mountain Mary.

There were quite a few things that endeared me to the movie from the start. When we first meet Johann, he's running circles in the prison courtyard wearing technical gear and a Garmin. (Nice prison, btw) When called back to his cell, he resumes running on a treadmill (REALLY Nice prison, btw.) Immediately after release and meeting w/his parole officer- he knocks over a bank. (This happens w/in the first 8 minutes). Eventually he hooks up with an old female friend and starts a romantic relationship with her, all while training, winning marathons, and knocking over multiple banks. As you can imagine, his world begins to squeeze in on him as soon as she finds out about his double-life.

Interspersed throughout the movie are wonderfully filmed running scenes. Whether it's an sprint to escape across a field/park, training in front of a running club, volunteering as a guinea pig for a shoe firm to test his stride/bloodwork for extra money, crossing numerous finish lines- it's a fairly accurate depiction of the life of a dedicated and serious distance runner. (A favorite scene is after robbing a bank he's removing his telemetry strap and plugs it into his laptop to gauge his heart rate before, during, and after the robbery to see if there were areas for improvement.)

Since this is a drama, it should be said that the ending is more "Heat" than "The Town" (although his mask evokes images from that similar film) but at a little over 90 minutes it clips along at a brisk pace (PUN!) without dragging out unnecessary exposition. He is who he is, and can't stop himself from being who he is as much as he wouldn't be able to stop himself from running.

Highly recommended thriller/heist movie, but especially to runners of anything ranging from a 5K to an Ultra.

(The Robber is currently available on Netflix Streaming)

4.5/5

Make your early heart-healthy resolution!

(Article attached below) When I'm treadmillin', if I'm not running lines or plugged into the local news/Jeopardy I'll occasionally grab a magazine from the gym courtesy shelf by the exercise bikes. Mostly it's to cover the 'mill monitor (I dislike constantly knowing my time/mileage if I'm doing a long-ish dreadmill run. I'll occasionally peek to see where I am, but mostly it's a better motivator for me to concentrate on running form or listen to "S-words for $400, Trebek!") Magazines just aren't easy to read on the 'mill...typically failing in staying open unless you're just walking.

I grabbed the most recent Musclemag International (One of the rags I used to subscribe to in my youth. This one had a vein-y moose-y guy on the cover advertising "bigger delts just by sitting down!!!") and after about 3 miles or so I decided to start flipping through the advertisments (of which, 3/4th's of the magazine is comprised) bodybuilding workouts (of which...okay, I confess I might try one starting in January. Details to follow.) And found a list of articles called "Muscle Bites" (whatever. I don't work creative for the rag, okay?) and in it, there were the monthly doses of wisdom/random fitness facts- one of which prompted me to bogart the article from the magazine, research some of the facts, and post it here today.

(Sources cited. I found this particular article fascinating since it falls within conversations I've had recently with some other gym-rat buddies- not necessarily argumentative, mind you. I just like the simple logic behind it. And the American Journal of Physiology. Natch. Enjoy.)

DUST OFF THE RUNNING SHOES (Musclemag Dec 2011 issue, in "Muscle Bites")

Although studies have shown weight training increases metabolism and therefore helps to burn calories longer after a workout, researchers at Duke University Medical Center (Durham, NC) conducted an 8-month study that found aerobic exercise (such as jogging) is better than resistance training for losing belly fat in particular. Aerobic training greatly reduce visceral and liver fat (found in the abdomen), improving risk factors for heart disease and other health problem, whereas weight training alone didn't.

Aerobic exercise burns 67% more calories than weight training.

Source: American Journal of Physiology , published 8/16/2011

Please note: This was included with other "bites" including "Daily Exercise Reduces the Risk of Death" and another article advising to speed your metabolism w/Hot Peppers.

Autumnal Harvest

I was right...

It has been a s#itty growing season. To be fair, there are probably a lot of factors involved and the fact is that since starting the garden we've had a couple of wimby-wimby harvests. Still, I've been as diligent as I can be and so far it's been a mild disappointment. Not huge. Just the"Awwww. Shoot" kind.

In the interest of focusing on the positive, the cherry heirlooms have been a steady source of produce and support, and the herbs have consistently stayed fruitful. We've had a few heirlooms come out (however there are still about 20 or so on the vine that are still GREEN!) I think the squash is almost ready, but outside of a few gardening websites I researched, I can't be sure if they're good to go. The jalapenos and zukes finally produced, and one (pictured below) made it's way into a nice grilled mess, but the 2nd (and last one I had) I dropped on the ground on my way out to the car and BOOM it exploded. (Not, like, "broken and bruised"...it flat out exploded) On another positive note, the flowers in the front planter have remained bright and thick. I may stick with them again next year after the initial tulip burst dies out.


I'm hoping to have some more pictures and produce as the season changes, but I'm thinking that I'm going to write off 2011 as a "bad growing season". Moda picked up some special grass to plant once the garden is torn up, and with the roommate diligently turning the composter I think we'll have a nice fertile area to play with in 2012. Fingers crossed that we don't get gobsmacked with snow so we can get the leaf covering down. Bon Appetit...



Inexplicable. I've barely watered these and they were nigh on overrun with weeds until I took care of business. And they done blown up!


I'll let you pretend that that doesn't look delicious. With goat cheese, a little balsamic vinegar and basil? Yum.

Broccoli, heirlooms/cherry heirlooms, and the zuke.

JALAPENOS!!! I gave one to my co-worker, and so she can make "an" popper. (I'm betting these guys'll be hot. The banana peppers have face-melting properties...)

Two Fairs, back to back= Insanity

What...what the natural heck was I thinking? I'm really not into masochistic acts perpetrated on my self, so in what parallel world did the "Evil" Mikey think hitting two crowded ass MN past times over Labor Day weekend was a good idea? I just hope that twin has a Van Dyke mustache, leers a lot, and is thinner. Probably huffs spray paint.

Annnnyway. This is what happens when you wait until the closing end of the State Fair, I guess. Well, that and the fact that my #1 companion Momo doesn't like to Gogo to the Fair and has been eyes deep in Tech/Rehearsal. #2 companion (Mom) wasn't too interested. And a few of my other buddies w/o day jobs had already gone during the weekdays leaving me, and my ridiculous need to get my annual mega-crowd fix on. (And really, I start to really yearn for the deep-fried turkey sammich by June...and since the dumb thing is now at the Twins Stadium I can get that craving out of the way any old time. What I'm saying is, my reasons for actually fighting the unwashed masses diminished significantly...And also...finding out you can get most Fair Food pretty much year round. Which I knew. But still...)

I put the call out on FB for a Fair Date, and had a few nibbles but was prepared to retire the notion of tandem/group Fair visits and see how I'd do flying solo. And when mentioning it the night before, my roommate started grilling me as to the "what time I was leaving" etc. before asking if it was okay if he tagged along. And I said "Okay".

And for folks who know the Bean, and his peccadilloes regarding crowds of more than 4-5 people? Please know that this is pretty amazing.


Pictured. Apparently the 3rd most crowded/highest attended Fair day. Also, see those deep fried pickles? Longest damn line, ever.


Of course I did the smart thing and rousted my ass up for a nice 7 mile trot before we left to get the metabolism moving in preparation, and then Bean and I found the closest park and ride to our house & began our adventure. Sufficed to say...we had a really nice time. He was a capable companion, nimbly navigating the crowds and "keeping up" with Mikey Longshanks. He didn't judge me for wanting a 10am beer with my Pronto Pup. We picked opportune times to find shady areas to rest/get away from the crowds. We shared all sharable dishes. Took pictures when asked. Let me make juvenile dick jokes when we visited the poultry barn. And was trying to be helpful in finding the Surly Booth, even though we couldn't find it. All told, we managed to stay for nearly 4-5 hours before hitting a wall and skiddadling.

Unfortunately, my camera died before I could document a lions share of the insanity that was milling about Falcon Heights that day (Or the dishes we enjoyed.) So I hope the list and these few will give you a taste...a taste of that dirty, dirty Fair. See you next year.

We et/drunk:
Pronto Pup, Elk Burger, Deep Fried Turkey Sammich, New Zealand King Potatoes, Deep Fried Crab Fritters (New, and a winner), 2 Nordeasters, and a Summit. Urp.

Not often you find an adult with the Fraggle Hair. Pictured with 10am beer. And easily-identifiable bandana of strength.

Bean found a quiet corner to recharge in Heritage Square. Mom told me it looks like he's having a time out. Which to be fair, he kinda is.

Camera p#ssed out before I could get a ton of the obnoxious novelty t-shirts. And what better statement at an event that revels in Bacchanalian amounts of excess...

The MN Renaissance Festival... (Monday, September 5th)
Hoping to capitalize on her brief days off during tech, I was able to corral Companion #1 for a Labor Day Renaissance Festival Jaunt. (FYI- Sign up for Groupon/Star Tribune Steals...etc. We snagged a sweet discount on two-fer tickets. Very cost effective)

Hipster T-Shirts never say die...


The metabolism revver wound up being our hauling our buns up and early for a festive jaunt to the Victory 10K to support D-Gangs and FeeJ, before cleaning up and heading to Shack-of-Pee...and eagerly anticipated 16th Century Shenanigans. While the Belly-Dancing weekend isn't my tip-top fave (and my partiality to the cooler late-Autumn weather) we managed to get a beautiful sunny day...and Mo full of mischief. ("If they're going to heckle me? I'll see their heckle and raise!") Said mischief wasn't too bad, and was usually relegated to finding people who made good photo-ops, and my standing next to them as she pretended to take my picture while covertly snapping them.

We were joined by Davey and KT, and had another really wonderful day. (And we stayed 3 x's the amount of time we were out there last year!) We ended up running into a gaggle of friends who decided that Monday was also their day of Renning- And later on left tired, with sore and dirty feet... full, and happy that we all took turns petting a python. (No Jon Voight's were harmed during the day, I hear)

The end of day nibble tally: Chindian food (Curry chicken and Veggie Samosas), shared Turkey leg, Chicken Wild Rice Soup in a bread bowl, Apple pie ala mode, Sweet Potato Fries, Egyptian/Raspberry Mead...and many, many beers. (Not Root Beer. "What?!? Are you on your PERIOD!?!?" That's my girl.) Anyway, if you need me I'll be in the corner popping Prilosec with a Pepto chaser...

I have now entered the pantheon of d-bags who make stupid jokes regarding their biceps around signs that say "Blah de blah bans guns on the premises." I make no apologies. We were having fun.

Meal #1- Veggie Samosas (a little dry and lacking veggies), Curry chicken (delightful), Schell's Oktoberfest and a Guiness. What did you think we were having for breakfast?

Honestly...I don't know why this was an important picture. I just thought Mo asking me to pose by it and "look serious" to be hilarious.

Oh...what? Look similar to the one I snapped at the State Fair? And they are evvvverywhere at Fest.

Pictured: Microencephalitic finally finds a hat that makes my head look normal, albeit mildly double-chinned. And it sorted me into "Sandwichdor" or "Gryffinbeer" or some stuff.

Here's the thing...coming in costume is encouraged. KT told me that when she was working out there people wouldn't just try and keep it within the time period...but that people would show up dressed as Darth Vader...a Storm Trooper. (My roommate told me that, long ago, he went in drag as a Geisha. Don't ask, because I didn't) And hey, more power to them. This guy? We called him "Sir Menards from Pressed Tinsville"...based solely on the location of where he acquired his materials. I know, right? It's 85 degrees, btw...and I was swassing like mad.

Aren't we fun? We hug. We love. We huzzah. And we-meaning the royal "me"- still stands by my (appropriated) opinion that Mead tastes like a drunken-diabetics p#ss...no matter if it's iced or not.

Fringe Accomplished

Yowza. I needed a few days to recuperate from the Fringe but I'm hoping to get back to status quo for your reading pleasure- covering such topical and important issues like running, gardening, auditioning, and how majorcaly depressing the end of summer/beginning of Fall feels*. First up:

We closed out "Knit" after a successful Fringe run. It was well attended, well-received by the audiences, and it was a real pleasure to perform and sad to see it over. (How often can I say that after my previous post discussing rotten experiences?) For me personally, it was kinda nice to play a guy who was closer to the chest than most "characters". I dunno. Takes the guess work out during rehearsal. And it was nice to work with some really talented people. Are you sad you missed it? GOOOOOOOOD!!! (I kid. Kinda.)

Par for the course, I did not get out and abuse my artist pass and set a record as to the number of shows I was able to take in. I maxed out at about 5-6 shows and I'm fairly happy to report that they were all consistent in terms of quality and my personal enjoyment. (Oh...there was some...not-so-greatness...but it's a palate cleaner. And my own fault for checking it out without doing homework. Whatever. Live a little and be adventuresome, right?)

Personal Fringe highlights...beside seeing buddies: Mid-towns inventive Fringe Cocktail tasting, the MotoI kerfluffle (Apparently some people had a bad experience, and that steamrolled car of teh interweb in to a full blown flame off. The night in question we did a quick scan of the patio and thinking the crowd was prohibting movement? Promptly said "F#ck this" and hit Herk's next store) And enjoying the crap-read spending too much- at the neighboring restaurant situated next to our performance venue. Where you should all...go.

So yeah. Happy to have been involved again after a few years. Happy to have had my Fringe experience. Happy as hell I can breathe now that it's over.

Next up: S.O Birthdays, Sad tomatoes and non-existent Zukes (WHAT?), a new Trail half-mary I recently discovered, and...your favorite: Movie Reviews. (Papa hasn't even SEEN Captain America yet...)

And the Fair. Hellllllls yes.




*Anyway, the subject of Summer's End is touched on in our dialogue during the show...about how the 4th of July is the "true" turning point and it's all down hill from there. Not so. Granted, mid-way through the Fringe we (thankfully) hit a cooling respite so it wasn't all swass and frass. Still. I woke up this morning. August 17th. And the morning felt kinda...chilly? Grump.

Stay-De-Um!

Pictured: Section 310, Sunscreen, and mild -but not bad- vertigo

FINALLY!

Can I get an amen, please? I was starting to feel like the only person who hadn't been to the new Twins Stadium. F#ck, my best friend who is about as far from being a sports fan had been there. What is HAPPENING IN THE WORLD!?!?

Here's what's happening: I am not a gi-normous sports nut. (Which, I think, mildly alienates me from about 90% of conversations with most dudes.) I mean I like seeing professional sports at whatever venue it is, but I won't actively pursue purchasing season-tickets...dig? (Or- historically speaking when I was a kid- pester my parents for tickets) And yes, I'd go see Twins games as a kid, sure...mostly through Scouts or Safety Patrol...but it wasn't like I really gave a poop about the game. (I'm a 7th inning "leave"er) And when you go to those promo games, invariably I'd wind up by the jumbo-tron in the nosebleed seats. (With one notable exception in 1993 when a friend was hooked up with bullpen seats b/c she worked at the hotel the opposing team was staying at)

Oh, oh...and don't get me started on stadium building. I was of the mind that the Dome was perfectly fine in spite of friends arguing the opposite. I mean the acoustics sucked. Fine. Andthe sightlines were meh, and you'd get vertigo just trying to navigate the stairs. But c'mon...it was built in the early 80's! People liked multi-tool stadiums back then! It was like a Triple-Change Transformer! And remember when we HAD to get a stadium for our new basketball team back in 1990 it set in motion the bitchin' and complainin' from the other franchises (See why I'm jaded and resentful? Look how well the Wolve's have done! )

So that was it. Meh on sports. Fond memories of powering down stadium beers and Dome Dogs. And if you're a professional sports team, you better bring home some medals or some shit before you whine about needing a new place to play. Boom. Truth bomb.

Being a fan of new experiences and having heard the hubbub from pretty much EVERYbody, when afforded the opportunity to check out a game at the new stadium (Versus Detroit, which is ironic in the sense that I feel like every game I saw between age 10-16 at the Dome was usual the Tigers) I hopped on it. And here is where I salt and pepper the crow I'm about to eat, because the thing about the Twins Stadium? What's really, really cool about it? Is how much it gets right. Which in turns, makes those faults of the Dome that much more glaringly apparent.

See, the Dome makes it so you're sort of "herded" in to the big concrete muffin tin. And ya gotta circle and circle to and move and climb to just find your seat. Madness. But at the new stadium you get to walk across the plaza to enter the stadium and you are greeted with BASEBALL. Maybe it's the bronze sculptures all around. But to Simple Mike, it was apparent that you're about to experience a Major-League Baseball game...and it's going to be awesome. And that's when I understood. And I didn't get my Hebrew National like I normally do, but instead got a deep fried turkey sammich. And a $7 Summit. And I was sold on traversing the escalators to the upper levels. I was sold on "non-trough" bathrooms where you uncomfortably relieve yourself "cheek to cheek" with another guy. I might not run out to get a jersey, moreover I'm still reserving the right to be skeptical as to the Vikes getting a new place to squat- but I'll tell you...if you haven't?

You gotta check out a game.

I'll go with you.

I still need to get a Hot Dog.

And I still love Saints baseball...

"What's Up?" /Ohhhh, not mulch"

If you don't mind, I think I'm going to be done with the outdoor projects in 2011 (with the exception of the garden, lawn mowing, and plotting what plants I might wanna throw down.)

Yup. I gave myself a deadline this weekend to get the rest of the outdoor frass finished. Last weekend I made my 4 trips to the Home Depot to collect the last of the 100 or so bags of cedar mulch (they had a sale) so that's down. The rain barrel had been sitting by the side of the house looking forlorn so THAT needed installed. The paver block to line the walk way wasn't going to install itself so I had to get THAT in the ground. (To be fair, it would've been done two weekends ago. Except since I couldn't seem to figure out how to remove the correct amount of dirt, so it ended up being a lawn-chunk by lawn-chunk process.)


And did I mention it was f#ck all hot out? Yeah. As I stood in the shower rinsing the black dirt off and picking wood fragments out of the corner of my eye, I wondered why I was there and not with my friends frolicking in the river. As my co-worker exclaimed: "Were you high? You should have gone to the river". Good answer.

I'll let the pics speak for themselves. If anyone knows of any good ground scrubby kind of the "come-back" kind of plants, or knows something about landscaping to make it look pretty...well I wouldn't be adverse to the assistance. In case you're curious, this was all done this weekend.("Before" pics can be found in the archives here and here.)

Now isn't that inviting? Clean? Doesn't that make you just wanna grill? Take that, creeping Charlie. Pictured: Toil. And for the uninformed, the Mazda can fit 12 bags of mulch. 16 if I'm not worried about visibility.

A row O' hostas is begging to be planted here, don't you think? This part of the house gets d#ck for sunlight.

This will, I'm hoping, keep the rain from getting in the basement. The nice thing about chunking out all of that soil is there was plenty of dirt for assistance with grading. I admit, I got panicky and I've been stalling the install as it were since part of it required my cutting away a portion of the downspout. During this phase, I discovered that stucco siding is really good at exfoliating the skin from your knuckles.

More soil for grading. I found some moisture in the wine cellar and the only time I've ever taken in water is when a downpour knocked off the drain spout last year. I'm reminded of my home-inspector years ago, when he advised keeping the soil high here on the South side of the house to keep the basement dry. Good advice, that. A good idea to follow it occasionally, Michael. (Incidentally. The dirt was sitting in a light plastic "garden" barrow. Overnight. And then it rained. Do you know what's heavy? Mud.)

Transplants, courtesy of the Mel's via Moda. That's all I have right now. I'm taking more. Anyone? Backyard is clean and mulch-y, but pretty nekkid.

Re-painted the picnic bench. Go on. Imagine eating some steaming weinies...baked beans...that crappy yellow potato salad and some lemonade. Ugh. I just threw up in my mouth. (*Note, by "painting" I mean I dumped the paint on it and pushed it around with a brush until it was even-looking. This was the final project of the day, and the heat/humidity had me a little addled)

Table courtesy of A and D. I scraped it, then re-painted with this nice textured spray. Doesn't this help you envision polite discourse over mojito's?

This was a completely unnecessary project on my part. I don't know. My herb pots used to live on the picnic table so I had this idea that I could build a small "herb table" to live next to the garden. I had some superfluous lumber and some really, really weak building skills. After a few hours with the cutting, the drilling, the cussing, the new fixes I discovered while building...we have a reeeeeally ghetto herb bench.

Hot banana pepper. I picked up some new (sturdier) tomato cages but I'm still a little chafed that my garden feels like it's taking forever to grow. (Coupled with the fact that Moda and Cap't Dawn's bounty already looks edible) This is what I get for expanding the dumb thing. See why this year? This year? Is the last time I expand the stupid thing.

Flaky and slow. Just like me! We ended up finding two scapes that escaped our notice. (See what I did there?) It made for a delicious and pungent egg scramble mixed with some goat cheese. Slurp.

BOOM! Done...

Pictured: Ebullient Insanity. All smiles in the early miles.

Right. I think I'm gonna make people gag with a step-by-step recitive on the race. So I'll say this: I'm very glad I did it. I'm glad I was with my buddies early on. I'm glad my friends came out to cheer and D-Gangs was "on point", getting a ton of terrific photos/video. I'm glad Moda's folks were there to take some of the best race photo's I've seen of Team Awesome. I'm proud of the half-Mary "virgins" who ran their first. (And smoked the s#it out of the course. WHERE'S THE FIRE!?!) And I'm reeeeeeally proud of my new race shorts. They're very short.

Pictured: Crossing the finish. Everyone is looking away. Why? Because of what you don't see that's been cropped for decency purposes. Not pictured? Decency...and dignity.

FeeJ PR'd, Moda has a new itch to (someday) be a pacer in a more "official" capacity, and I managed to shave 11 seconds off of my own PR. (And wondering if I can run a sub-2:00 at the Monster Dash.) Which is weird, since I was going in to this thing suuuuper chill. It was just a joyful morning to be goofy and chatty and see what the body could do. I mean, it's weird...I was trying to drift off for a post-race snooze and my mind kept at it- "Was my pace off?" "Could I have turned it up earlier?" "I could do a Full-Mary". It's madness. Or the shorts. Probably the shorts.

Anyway, the worst part is that we're all hurting a bit after this one. Moda is still "technically" recuperating from G-Ma's two weeks ago. Both FeeJ and I are nursing a janky foot. And (on a strange note) I've had the s#ittiest sleep patterns. (I was dog-tired when I got home, and couldn't go back to sleep to save my life. And after a late night firework show, I tossed and turned aGAIN!)

So yeah. We'll be taking a few days off. Not too many, though. I'm really hoping to get back out for long runs with my buddies.

You know what you don't do?

(pictured- The author post-recovery run on the record-setting hottest day of 2011. I went early to beat the heat but still lost a 4 pints of water. It was like my own mini-Badwater marathon out there! And you know somethi...fahk. I am anti-photogenic. Ugh...)

DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK!!! What? You think that because the race is over and my wistful memories and the painful exertion that went into the half-Mary was the end of running jibba-jabba? No, No, No, my friends. I have a new toy to play with that you see there dangling out of my mouth like a slobbery tennis ball being handed to you by a golden retriever. I found it in the locker room at work and after turning it in to the lost and found , I waited a month (or until my last day on the job if it matters) before inquiring if anyone had claimed it. To be fair, I'd have walked off with it as soon as I found it but Moda made mention that it's bad race karma to abscond with someone else's running tool. (And it had also been pointed out to me that the karma worked when I twisted my ankle during the run and didn't up and break my foot. I'm just sayin'...) So, when no one claimed it?

Yoink.

So now I have a Garmin and outside of the fact that it's supposed to tell me my pace and distance, I can't figure the dumb thing out. So I now own the equivalent of an expensive digital watch on my wrist. Still...I wanted to get used to wearing it. And on my little 4-5 mile putter, it did give me an idea of how long I was going to be out in the wretched heat and when to "turn it up" so I could haul-ass home before it hit 100 degrees. Nothing says nothing like a training recovery run that involves blood, swass, and tears...

(Pictured: Swass)


Anyway, I'm gonna start frassin about the back yard but I still need to figure out a mulch solution (although during the Half-Mary we did see the tree chippings in an enORMOUS pile off of the Plymouth avenue bridge...the remnants of the tornadoes from a few weeks back) and also a plan as to what I'm planting and where. (I'm having a tough time "imagining" what the layout is going to be. I might solicit your help, readers) First and foremost is getting the stupid whirligigs blown off the weed barrier so that they don't take root or turn into a nesting ground for the stupid boxelder bugs that permeate my home when I neglect to do so.

(Remember when you were a kid and you'd watch them twirl and whirl like little helicopters and it was SO much fun? Yeah. I don't either)

It also means keeping them out of my gutters, garden, and flower/herb pots. 2 years ago I forgot to clear them out and they started growing in my gutters that were uncovered and choked out my flowers and herbs like they were in a mixed-martial arts match. It was a sad growing season in 2009...just sayin. Moreover, they actually do provide the nesting materials for the bugs and since I'm not hosting a insectoid orgy I'm getting outside and blowing that crap away from the huis.

(Pictured: It's always a good idea to respect your elders...unless they're getting their groove on next to the outside dryer vent.)


Oh. I'll also be posting my "X-Men: First Class" review soon. Fair warning, it's not what you'd probably expect from this nerd.

Rock N' RUN!

(Skip to the end if you just can't stop the music. This is mainly for my mom who complains of blog lenghth. No need to comment, Ma. This disclaimer is solely here to help you out!)

From the time I first started running, I've spent an ungodly amount of time in my head. And friends, this can be a terrible, terrible place to reside. I had one crazy summer in 1997 or so where I had this...thing...this am/fm thing that was the size of a pair of earmuffs sporting an antenna that I'd wear running my "Uptown Loop" from Lake to Franklin and back again. And since this was back in 1997 or so, "Tubthumpin" was on continuous loop. As was Alanis Morrisette. No good. And so when my sweaty melon finally shorted it out? I haven't used music during runs since.

Since my jaunts were usually 30 minute jobbies, I'd barely have enough time to plot world-domination much less what I was having for dinner so owning whatever the newest fangled music-listening device that was prevalent at the time wasn't a high priority to me. Now fast-Forward to last year when we started to put up 1-2 hour training runs. This takes "Inside Mikey Head-Time" to torturous water-boarded levels. Enter the kindness of my techonologically savvy friends to help me understand the (at the time already) outdated concept of: The MP3 player.

FeeJ was kind enough to give me her old model and Moda threw a bunch of tunes on it that she already had saved on her computer. So finally, I was able to plug in and tune out to some rockin' tunage. And while this was a fun period of adjustment for me and I no longer had to imagine what like would be like if I was filthy rich (A frequent fantasy while running), there were a few issues that I took with the technology. Minor quibbles, really.

First off:

-It was pink. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all, but yeah. No. Mikey No Pinkalicious.

-I stretched the arm strap so it wouldn't stay on, so I had to carry it in my hand. (Probably because of my BIG MUSCLES!) Plus my fat fumbly fingers couldn't skip songs very well. See the next bullet.

-While there was plenty of Michael Jackson (Thanks dear!) and Beyonce' et.al. which were upbeat and peppy? There'd occasionally be some of "FeeJ's Favorites" on there as well...namely, Jason Mraz. I have nothing personal against Mr. Mraz or his music, but after having the aforementioned Michael Jackson beats dropped, his music tends to acts like a drag parachute.

And that's the thing. Music and the beat, it's said, quickens your pace a bit. Adds to your energy. I can get behind that. When Moda's pa Panja hooked me up with an Ipod + clip last summer to replace the awkward MP3 (Lookit Mikey getting all the tech handouts!) and she loaded it up with her distance training mix (which was much more consistently peppy and beat-heavy. Nary a Dolly Parton song to be found), I had many months on my own to try and calculate/imagine what my personal race soundtrack would be. (Sorry, love. I'm not besmerching your mix. The beats got me through nearly 100's of runs)

So today, (After I finally launched into the 21st century and got an Itunes account of my own) I'm sharing the Mikey Mega-Run Mix Playlist. (Truncated version 1.0) For some reason I thought it'd be full of 80's montage power ballads (And they're on there, oh yes), but I ended up with an eclectic array that I've found to be encouraging on my long runs, and strangely enough...mildly inspirational? As long as I don't wind myself during the race playing air drums during "Sister Christian" or trying to sing along. Ahem. Feel free to bogart some of the titles for yourselves...

(An * indicates a song that I can't help but listen to twice. This isn't the full list, mind you. I put about 2.5 hours worth of music on there which is...I hope...enough time to finish the Half-Mary without doubling back through the playlist. I even categorized them.)

YOU WILL RUN. YOU WILL RUN FAR AND FAST AND IT IS GLORIOUS. DROP A BEAT!

Montage Music/80's
- "Live to Win" (Paul Stanley) Doi. If you've seen the MMPORG "South Park"...you'll know. Goofy.
- "Eye of the Tiger"/"Burning Hearts" (Survivor) You will beat up Russians.
- "Sister Christian" *(Night Ranger) Yeah. Twice. It rules.
- "Doctor Feelgood" (The motherlovin CRUE)

Mike's music tastes are stuck in High School between 1989-1993
- "Poison" (Bel Biv Davoe)
- "I'm gonna Knock You Out" (LL Cool J)
- "Good Vibrations" (Marky Mark mit der Funky Bunch)
- "Gonna Make You Sweat" (C+C Music Factory)
- "I've got the Power" (Snap! To be fair, I envision the movie "The Perfect Weapon" when I hear this)
- "Freedom-90" (George Michael. I have fond...fond memories of this song. My earliest workouts in my parents basement used to consist of running in place, doing jumping jacks and push-ups, all while watching "MTV". And this video? Mega Hot to a 15 year old. Get out of the tub, Ms. Evangelista. Please?)
- "Roam" * (B-52's. Reminds me of mall cruising Brookdale and Orange Julius)

Michael Jackson
- "Beat It", "Thriller", "The Way You Make Me Feel", "Bad". I should mention my Janet hold out is "If"...b/c it's great. And yeah. MJ. 'Nuff Said.

Mo-ldovers from the MP3 days
- "All the Single Ladies" * (Beyonce') What? I'll cut you.
- "My First Mistake" * (Jellyfish)
- "Low" (T-Pain) "Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur...The whole club was like: 'Hey, that fat chick hates cardio and animals'!" (Not my quote, fyi)
- "Buttons" (Pussy Cat Dolls feat. Snoop-dogg) I'll explain this later.
- "I'm going on"/"Run" (Gnarles Barkley) Awesome...awesome running songs.

Goofy WTF'ers
- "I'm Awesome" (Spose) Look...don't knock it until you've worked out to it.
- "Thong Song" (Sisqo) Like "Buttons"? When you need to dig deep? Really really deep? And it's, like, mile 10 or so? You could do worse than songs dealing with women getting undressed. IJS.
- "Calling Baton Rouge" *(Garth Brooks) STOP WITH YOUR JUDGEMENT!

That's something off the bullet list, I guess.

This won't be contrary to my stance on not posting political jibba-jabba. It's pretty topical and has my gut in knots over the emotions/thoughts/perceptions of what has transpired since the news broke out late last night. In other words, it's kind of a big deal

I'm tired today. And I know that writing about my "feelings" is something that should probably be relegated to my gernal, or LJ...but I had a ton that I wanted to say about it. (I always do when monumental current world events happen. It's just there's always someone more eloquent who can post a quote, or a poem, or say what invariably gets stuck in my head. It's hard for me.)

I heard the news as I was getting ready for bed last night. My roommate stood outside my door and asked if I would mind turning on CNN to watch the White House response. I donned my robe, mobilized, found the channel (one hiccup of owning that big-ass tv? Finding the channel. I'm still learning that nightmare) And that's what we did. We sat in our jammies and would vascillate between the TV and a flurry of texts (him), or the TV and F'Book (me)...

I mean that's really kind of boring. Right? The biggest bookend story to the greatest planned attack on American soil. In our robes? No champagne. No "woohoo-ing". Nothing. In the last 10 years or so, you've all had that conversation at least a couple of times: "Where were YOU on 9/11?" Right? And people share with a somber respect for the even. And we remember. And it was...I'm sorry- it always will be a horrible event. An event that laid bare our feelings of safety, security, and comfort with this terrible tragedy that penetrated our shores. They made us bleed. And as a nation, we felt it. The anger, fear, insecurity, the pain and heartache. Nations came to our support. Even Quaddafi condemned the act.

And when we launched a war on "terror", we now had a face that was really the target. I knew about the blind cleric. The terror cells in the Middle East and Pakistan. I don't even think I'd have known who this guy was from Mary...but there was his face all over the news. And we were gonna git'em come hell or high water. And, I think collectively, as a nation, we were all fine with that.

So last night, why was I left feeling so...I guess "numb" is the best way to describe my feeling. Numb. Like a soldier after a pyrrhic victory?

I was going to start off today with one of those long-winded Mikey rants about the last 10-15 years in terms of how it culminated in the events of last night...about history and the despair that comes with repeating itself...blah blah blah. How it's so important to know how this affects us but also that if we don't take the measures to remember this as a country, that in the future this "victory" could be a shallow one. That the best we, as a nation, can now hope for is that those who suffered directly and the most can at least find a small amount of closure. And I'll probably touch on that. Sorry. I'm full to burst.

What really has my head spinning is the schizophrenic way that this historical recent world event played out...So let's look at the last 72 hours or so:

-Friday...Rich entitled young white kids having their wedding televised to the world
-Friday...Rich entitled atheletes and owners figuring out who a QB is going to be
-Friday...The final launch and postponement of the space shuttle Endeavour
-Sunday...The death of one of the most sought after evil leaders in the last 50 years.

This is big stuff that just happened. Over the weekend. (Not to mention on a personal note that I ran a race, rehearsed my show, shot a video for a court reporting firm. I digress.) It's just...can you take a second to see how the world and our news shifts gears so quickly and tangentially that it causes my head to hurt?

So I'm watching this last night, listening to the broadcasters kill time before the Prez comes out, seeing the images of the rally outside of the White House, and I started to harbor some pretty weird thoughts on the matter. These are first impression-y kind of things:

-Is this a true statement, Mr. Newscaster? I mean...It's been 10 years and he was nigh on impossible to find. IMpossible. So my first thoughts were: "Are you sure?" and "The public will want to see images or something. These days no one is happy unless they get a gruesome image" and "They sure as shit better be sure". My second thought? So who's gonna get the lottery winnings that was the price on his head? The guy that pulled the trigger? Will they even pay it out?

-The babies. Almost all of the faces they were showing outside of the White House- cheering, smiling, with their makeshift "victory" signs made out of pizza boxes with their clever slogans? They were so, so young. I mean, they had to be college kids. (NPR this a.m. reported that a majority of them were. Meaning they were all little, little kids when this first happened.) And this is what turned me into Grandpa Mikey- These kids are acting like it's a rally or sporting event. Fist pumping. Chest thumping. Cheering that someone is dead like they're in Munchkinland and a pair of stocking feet are rolling back under a Kansas Farmhouse. And...Look, I'm not sad that he's dead. Not one bit. But, for the life of me, I can't imagine cheering on a death. It feels so macabre.

To double back...you know the people who cheer during death penalty executions aren't typically the immediate families? (They just want closure and for the events to be put behind them.) The loud one's tend to be the protestors on both sides of the prison fence. The one side has signs for life and holds candles- the other chants for death and retribution. And here's where I started to feel extraordinarily sad: This war (wars? Engagements? I get confused), has never really seemed to have a definitive "end" in sight. (Mission accomplished indeed) Lookit all the "bad guys" we've arrested or executed or torutured over the last 10 years and tell me that it doesn't feel like just another bump in the road. Are the goals to end these wars wholly dependent on the death of one person because they were the figurehead to us?

It doesn't feel balanced. It doesn't feel like the senseless deaths caused by the tragedy, the countless deaths of the young men and women overseas fighting these wars have been justified by what has happened. Something felt bigger than this.

I also wasn't sure if I felt this was a victory or not because when it comes to terrorist "cells", they'll always have another bastard come by and pick up the mantle. My roommate called it a victory b/c it was the death of a terrorist figurehead. Well okay. But what if, within their infrastructure, while it sucks for them that their appointed leader is dead that the only thing they think of is that they need to scramble to appoint another CEO and keep right on trucking? And we're left waving or flags of victory for a perceived moral victory...While we're still fighting. We're still at war.

- 2 mixed things: I hate the news. Whenever you get a news story of this magnitude invariably it winds up being talking heads repeating sound bites and filling it full of wacky unproven improv until the story is confirmed. (When I first turned on my TV on 9/11 the reporters were saying that there was a possible death toll of 10,000 or greater. Seriously. I still have my little notebook where I tried dictating what I was hearing on the news verbatim until my wrist hurt.)

When 9/11 happened, movies like "Wag the Dog" and the idea of "spun" news stories was perceived as merely fodder for fiction. Terrorist actions...in 1993...1995...various embassy bombings throughout India et.al. Those incidents were reported at what (now) seems like a snails pace through our 2-3 news outlets. In our post-9/11 world we ended up with dozens of news sources with so many different ways of spinning the problems of the world at large- although they all agreed our newest bad guy. And it wound up being a guy, in a turban, with Dumbledore's beard.

We had our new enemy. WE had already forgotten how these were the same "bad guys" in 1990 and 1991. Think about it...after 1990 we lost the big boss baddies when we up and became buddies with Russia. But hot damn, oil and gas are too important and we needed someone to hate. So we got ourselves pissed at Saddam and Quaddafi. And the war was over in a week, with our SCUDs, night vision and all. And even though he became a pop culture doof- (Not one, but two appearances in Proft/Zucker movies) Saddam dropped off the map. We plain ignored him for 10 years. Even Quaddafi didn't seem like the vile overlord we had thought he was. And we ignored him too. Well they'll make for fetching targets again! If we can't find these cave dwelling terrorist then we'll fight people who have guns and WMDs! And lookit this! And we caught one of'em!. He done got found like a mole in the ground! He got hisself a trial and done executed. Hoo Rah for 'Merika! And lookie here at the last few months! Quaddafi is topical again! (I guess we can say the same about Trump, right?) And crazy! And we killed his kids! And we're gonna git'em!

But we got fuzzy face first. And finally. With thoughtful and planned intelligence gathering and a minimal/non-existent loss of life in civilians or our Armed Forces. The timeline, if it isn't a spin and I'm not being too cynical, was about 7-8 months from the initial reports on his location. In. Out. Found. And dead.

And again, all I could think of is that these aren't tunneling terrorist cave rats. These are guys that have someone with a shit ton of money putting up the dough to help keep them hidden. Which means, there's a nameless face out there who shares the "hate-on" America. And they're still writing checks. So you'll please forgive me if I'm still a little concerned. I'm not saying what happened isn't an amazing display of agencies working together for a swift and common goal- I just don't think this counts as our generations VE day.

Which brings us to F'Book and my second (and hopefully final) point- Before we had the capability to compartmentalize our feelings/religion/polictical stances in 140 character or less text bites? We had email/cellphones/telephones. (And mail. But even in 2001 physical letters were considered passe') With the magic of Facebook, I've been able to connect with old neighbors, teachers, high school- hell-elementary school mates. People who I might've seen once every few years at a reunion or something. Where you might get a phone number and promise to call but it falls through or you forget. So with the cliche' being "as you get older you become the people you lived with" (Meaning, your parents... to a certain degree) The friends you played "Army" with as kids and had sleepovers or went tee-peeing or whatever..? They have mortgages and babies and spouses and car payments and roofs that might need new shingles and credit card debt...And that's the famous commonality.

But what FB has got me frassy about (and a little sad) is that...well ...now I know more about these people than I might have if I didn't have a connection with them in the first place. And that isn't entirely a great thing, I fear. It's one thing to wear your faith and political beliefs on your sleeve. But leave it to an event like the death of the leader of that terrorist group to act as an impetus to show the worldthe often times difficult-to-understand "true colors" of these recent nostalgic connections. Some examples I saw on the recent feed:

-"Hope you're enjoying the 10th circle hell without your virgins!"
-"Good f#cking riddance!"
-"Let's make sure we give credit to the 'Real' president who helped capture and kill the scumbag- GW Bush. God Bless!" (Or the other "I didn't vote for him, but glad to know the current administration has done something positive!")

(Look. Just so you don't think I'm picking on these people you should know that I'm friends with artists/actors/performers. They're not off the hook, okay? Some of the jokes...are really, really bad.)

I mean...really? It's hard enough to filter or determine tone online. It's hard enough to disregard the political or sometimes manic religious bent of old acquaintinces if they don't align with your own. Keeping with the theme of full disclosure: I hang with liberal minded folk. I voted for Obama. I have hippie sympathies. However I also have conservative leanings. (Although I stopped feeling "Republican" after I realized that I didn't have to always follow the party of my parents and relatives and when I could start making intellligent and informed choices on my own. And private choices, too.)

I consider myself a proud-American. In spite of one of the most awful economic crises to affect our country- In spite of some of the most virulent and vitriolic forms of fighting within our elected government. In spite of decisions being made that are not just contrary and immoral...they're just plain dumb. (Really? Banning same sex marriage? What business is it of yours who does what behind closed doors. Banning spouses and partners who are lousy in the sack? Let's see what kind of hoopla THAT would stir up!) No, I choose to maintain a stance of optimism, faith, and humor. My patriotism, my dedication to my home country falls in the place of being a supporter of those who are our protectors- a few of whom are my friends. Of being respectful to others in their beliefs and opinions. To never fall into a trap of forgetfullness, or complancency. To believe in a changing and vibrant America.

I have never maintained the belief that peace is a possibility throughout the world. Even in times that I've personally considered peaceful domestically- well let's face it... there are still some unbelieavably rotten people in the world. People who fight. Who can't stand their station in life. So they use guns. They steal. They burn. They hurt. The world is too complex to assume that everyone can fall into a business model of peace/love/understanding. (in other words: 'MERIKA!)However if we remain at peace with our individual selves first. And spread it outward with how we treat each other. Our neighbors. Our loved ones. Our families. The one's that we may not understand but people who deserve our respect, regardless of their background.

In my house- We don't celebrate a death, even a symbolic one. We won't celebrate the death of an enemy. We can (and do) acknowledge their passing in the most respectful way possible- By remembering the actions and atrocities that brought them up to their falling. By remembering that there can and may still be those out their to follow their path. And to remember and give tribute to those who have been lost or suffered pain and loss through the actions and orders of that one person. And to accept that as a rule The only answer is humility, peace, and to ultimately choose life.

‎"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." Martin Luther King Jr. (Thanks, Moda. See? The smarter one's always find a better quote)

Making dinner with things I find in the kitchen...

(Cooking blog. Fair warning.)

"Cooking with shit I happen to find in the kitchen".

Catchy, isn't it? I'm like a lot of folks who occasionally turn around in circles in my kitchen, open the fridge or the pantry numerous times with the hope that inspiration will hit me. Hit me in the FACE! What happens is I default to takeout, or Moda and I will toss recipes back and forth before hitting the grocery store to pick something up...and then buying an ingredient or three that I already had. (So there's doubles of things like coriander, mustard seed, vanilla extract etc.)

Moreover, I've "inherited" a bunch of food from my folks from back when they had themselves a Costco membership- Which means I have a lot (and I mean a lot) of canned and jarred stuff in the pantry and fruit cellar. And yet again, I wind up with doubles packages of everything when I don't bother checking what's in the larder before running to Cub for the "main" ingredients. So laying around I have cans coconut milk, chili beans, rice, and a disgusting amount of pasta.

That said, making pasta at my place becomes a struggle in creativity.Ievolved from making Ramen as a default dish to boiling water/using a whole box of rotini/dumping the jar of red sauce on top/eating it all. And within the last 7 or 8 years I've made valiant efforts in terms of edging away from a jar (and discovering the joys of jarred pesto)...which means I've been involved in some pretty atrocious experiments. (The genesis of this was when I was 16 and tried to cook for a date, boiling pre-cooked fettucine to death and pouring cold alfredo sauce on top. I did the same thing years later for yet another date who was a vegetarian and I made spaghetti with a melange of random vegetables. It was inedible. The trash can got sick.)

So clearly I'm not a fantastic cooking improviser. But I'm a helluva copy cat. And with that, I randomly present you with one of my favorite scenes in the movie "The Godfather"- Remember the one where Fat Clemenza shows Michael Coreleone how to make dinner for "A buncha guys?". He's making red sauce, right? (And film nuts, I know. Okay? I know how Coppola loves to incorporate food into his movies. Enough) So when we started gardening, I actually got the gumption to make my own red sauce at home with inspiration from that film by using the tomatoes and herbs from the garden and fully believing it'd turn out like shit. What I discovered? It was:

A) Fulfilling to make red sauce that you grew yourself
B) Easier than I thought
C) Tastier than Ragu
D) Not as messy as I thought. (I won't lie. I hate the mess. And making your own pasta can get messy as you'll see below)
E) Easy enough that even a flibbertigibbet clutz like me can do it.


So if you have a bunch of cans of tomatoes- diced/peeled whatever (Notice in the photo below that there are two different brands of tomato. See what I meant when I said I get doubles?) or when you're on a budget (read: "Po'") you can still play chef by making your own red sauce at home. (You can do it with fresh tomatoes, just make sure to de-seed them first before chopping them up)

I'll show you what I did and reference the food and utensils needed along the way:

What you'll need:

One 24 oz. can of diced tomatoes. (Or 2 small cans of peeled. Whatever)
One bunch of basil
2-3 cloves of garlic, coarsely chopped (The chopped and jarred kind? Fine. It'll just taste weird)
1 large onion or 2-3 small ones. (I had a bag from "Fare For All". I can frass about those guys later)
Handful of brown sugar
1/4 cup of olive oil
A whatever of ground pepper and sea salt. (To taste, I guess)
A splash of red wine (Optional, but whatever. Fat Clemenza recommended it)
I guess some spices from a generic spice rack or something. (To play with. I used some of the generic "Italian Seasoning" and "Oregano")

Tools- A large pan, sharp cooking knife, and a food processor. (Note: Everyone, and I mean EVERYone needs to invest in a good, sharp, cooking knife. Not just the bunch you get from Target. I mean invest, and keep the dumb thing sharp. Cutting crap should be as effortless as letting the blade fall across the veggie and you pull back your elbow to cut through. And the food processor? You don't need a $300 model, but for the times you'll probably break it out to make stuff? Not a bad investment. Otherwise, feel free to dirty up your margarita/daiquiri making blender.)



Prepare ingredients by opening the cans (If using fresh tomatoes, use 6 Roma tomatoes if that's your thing and cut into four piece then de-seed. Then chop them coarsely as well). Coarsely chop the onion and garlic. (See? "Coarse" in this case means "Not fancy and small". So it's easy. Get to da Choppah.) Heat the olive oil in the large pan over medium heat. Once it warms up a bit, put in the garlic and onion.

Babysit that pan until the onion gets a little clear (Don't burn the garlic) and sprinkle your herbs and brown sugar over the mess. Dump the cans of tomato in there with a splash of red wine. Lay the basil on top so it makes a for a good photo. Reduce the heat and let it simmer.



Once it starts bubbling a little, take it off the burner and shut off your stove. You'll need to be careful when transferring it to the food processor. (Clearly you can see that mine is a fancy wall-mounted model) So use a deep spoon and steady hands. On LOW, pulse the processor until the ingredients resemble the consistency of the shit you can find at the store in a jar.


Why low? Because as you can see from the photo above? You might wind up with more sauce than you (or your processor) can handle and it turns into a marinara sprinkler (tm). Put the superfluous sauce in tupperware.


Set yerself up for a fancy feast! Serve over pasta (I used farfalle) cooked to instruction. Serve w/fresh shaved parmesan or whatever comes in the green cardboard tube. Maybe with a side of garlic bread.

IMPORTANT TIP- Boil the water, cook for the allotted time, then shut off the stove and let it sit for another 3-5 minutes in the hot water. (Otherwise most boxed pasta winds up too al dente if you cook it exACTLY to the minute it says on the box.)

TIP 2- Feel free to "healthen" up the meal by substituting Barilla Protein Pasta or whole wheat noodles. Or, you know...just eat less.

You're creeping me out, Charlie!!!

That? See that?!?! That, my friends, is "Creeping Charlie". To paraphrase my friend Mid-Town circa last year: "If it wasn't for the crabgrass and Creeping Charlie, I wouldn't have a very green lawn". Ain't that the truth.

This invasive bastard came around last year and like a demonic vine that spreads subterraneanly it has taken root and stayed. It pops up between my border stones. Gets into the garden. Chokes out all grass seed I plant. And is seemingly impervious to taunts, curses, and the elements. (Seriously. After raking, this was all that was green under the dead bed of leaves.)

I need an old priest and a young priest.

Or better still, someone with agri-knowledge that doesn't revolve around tilling up my entire lawn, hiring an expensive lawn-service to come out, or requires "bleach-killing" my grass and soil and doing an entire re-plant. So, to all my 2 readers out there- If there is someone with more knowledge than I, I bow to your superior wisdom and humbly request your advice. Even respond on Facebook if you can't do it here. I f#cking hate Creeping Charlie and I if there is one thing I take pride in like a Midwestern Hank Hill- It's my lawn. It's big. And I want it comfy beneath the toes.

That said, I had a big sprout-a-ganza this weekend. Moda posted pics already of the two rows of garlic bulbs for the viewing public. Here, you get a sneak peek of my early-season pride-N-joys:




(Tulips. Or as I call it, "Holland East". The bulbs were a gift from my folks when I first moved in. As much as I don't like'em- They have the staying power of lilacs and brown-out and die after a few weeks- I don't have the heart to uproot them out of honoring my folks. I'll post more when they blossom)

(CROCUS! Please, stop forking your fingers and banging your head. This is NOT the hair-band. Again, more bulbs from da'. The crokes are pretty, but I have these lame green spriggens that don't do anything. I uprooted a few last season, but the rest come back. No hate here. I just think they're dumb)

(Trap door bun-buns. Okay, so I finished the initial raking and thatching of the back-40, and while getting around the base of the tree I found a suspicious clump of dead grass and hair that started to come up like a cork...and then a little gray leg started kicking in the air. I cussed, jumped back, looked in my raked pile to make sure no bodies came up with my effort, and carefully stuffed it back in place. As much as I hate the buns around the garden, I hadn't the heart to flush'em out, fill the hole, or do much of anything except wet my pants. Over bunnies. Because I'm a bad-ass, weightlifting, distance running, martial artsing, lawn-raking cream-puff sissy.)
(These will be the peonies...which will grow, get too heavy, fall over, and die. The end. Circle of Life. Elton John can't write this.)