what are you afraid of?

I had a brief exchange with one of my co-workers. We secretly hate each other (well actually, we're both quite open about it) but we have some pretty stimulating conversations. I was commenting on the number of people in the gallery and how it was freaking me out. She asked if I had a fear of people - agoraphobia. We both paused a moment and decided her classification was incorrect. Agoraphobia is the fear of open spaces. This prompted me to try to look up the proper phobia. The list of phobias is endless and quite amusing in itself. Following is just a sample of the phobias beginning with "A:"

Ablutophobia- Fear of washing or bathing.
Acarophobia- Fear of itching or of the insects that cause itching.
Acerophobia- Fear of sourness.
Agateophobia- Fear of insanity.
Albuminurophobia- Fear of kidney disease.
Alektorophobia- Fear of chickens.
Alliumphobia- Fear of garlic.
Allodoxaphobia- Fear of opinions.
Amathophobia- Fear of dust.
Anablephobia- Fear of looking up.
Anuptaphobia- Fear of staying single.
Apeirophobia- Fear of infinity.
Atomosophobia- Fear of atomic explosions.
Aulophobia- Fear of flutes.
Autodysomophobia- Fear of one that has a vile odor.
Automatonophobia- Fear of ventriloquist's dummies, animatronic creatures, wax statues - anything that falsely represents a sentient being.

You have to admit to suffering from one or more of these to a moderate extent yourself. I know I have personally grappled with many of these. Show up with a dummy and I guarantee you I will run screaming into the night. And how many of us have stayed awake at night worrying about kidney disease? Huh? Come on, you know who you are. Well, perhaps some of these are a little bit of a stretch compared to others, but while we may laugh hysterically at some of these phobias, there is someone out there who is not so amused. I must admit that the list makes me feel downright healthy. I'll try not to be insensitive to the phobias of others, but secretly wouldn't it be funny to put together an ablutophobiac with an autodysomophobiac?

the day I stopped crying

I remember as a child how I used to cry whenever I hurt myself. I know this is a typical response to pain at a young age, but I also remember (oh, so many years ago) the day I stopped crying. I was playing in my cousin’s backyard and I was running towards the front of the house when I tripped on something. I went down very hard and very fast, skinning my hands and knees on the grass. It hurt as much as anything I had experienced at that point in my childhood (as far as my memory allows), but at that moment something clicked inside. I thought, “Yes, this hurts a lot, but I don’t have to cry about it. In fact, what does crying have to do with pain?” (Well, physical pain at least. I still cry sometimes when subjected to emotional or psychological pain, but if confronted, I will deny ever writing this. Also, show me a sad movie and I will practically weep. Again, I will exercise plausible deniability regarding this).

This disassociation of pain and crying has been just one of the many revelations I have encountered along the meandering path that is my life, but it was a startling one for me. Why had I wasted all of that time and effort crying when I could have just been nursing the pain with rocking motions and repeated "ouches?" Really. It was like that for me. Why does anybody waste the energy crying over pain (again, I reiterate, "physical" pain)? I haven't cried since that time; not when I inadvertently jumped through a sliding glass door on the night of high school graduation, not when I broke my wrist, not when I got the wind knocked out of me in Kung-Fu class. Crying is displaced energy and the act takes focus away from the matter at hand. If you are injured in any way, focus on the most efficient way of getting relief or aid as quickly as possible. Don't be wasting valuable time crying.

Now if only I can incorporate that disassociation with those other kinds of pain . . .

brand names - a word from our sponsor

As an active participant in the culture of consumerism, I've come to favor certain brand names. Best Foods mayonnaise (Hellman's in the east), as an example, is simply non-negotiable. If you don't have Best Foods mayonnaise in stock, forget about it. Ocean Spray cranberry juice is another. Any other brand just tastes like red stuff. And nothing beats the iconic Hostess Twinkie for classic junk food. Cheap imitators need not apply.

I'm sure this sort of discernment is not always justified. I do let my standards, real or imagined, slide occasionally, especially in these difficult economic times. I'm not as discriminating when I buy that container of chicken stock for my Cooks Illustrated recipe (although I AM conscious of the sodium content, which is actually horrifying if you look at the label. Personal caution alert: anytime you buy anything that's been processed, check out the sodium content. I think it might help you live longer, but again, I digress . . . ). Heinz Ketchup is yet another, although years I ago I swear it started getting runnier. Still, Heinz reigns supreme as far as I'm concerned.

Brand loyalty is an interesting phenomena. When and where does one reach a tipping point when one is willing to deviate from the tried-and-true choices and venture into sampling something new? For me, a relative "clinger" to my favorites, it takes a lot. A massive ad campaign that bombards the airwaves each night of the week is a good starting point. Well-designed, snobbish label and packaging design is another. A premium price is another attractive element for me. (Fact: when my wife did an internship in NYC some years ago for Elizabeth Arden, she learned that if one of their new product lines did not sell, they simply increased the price, which almost unfailingly led to higher sales). Coupon incentives and celebrity endorsements have no impact upon me whatsoever.

As consumers, we do indeed vote with our money and I usually vote for the incumbent. Occasionally, I do try new things when I am swayed by the factors mentioned above. Still, I have found that those times I do stray, I inevitably end up disappointed. The allure of something new is momentarily distracting, but soon dissipates with the first sampling. Keep on trying though, you manufacturers. I'm ready to jump on the bandwagon of customer loyalty as soon as you develop that next Twinkie. Until that time, I'll stick with my favorites.

the national theatre of the deaf

Many, many years ago I had the opportunity to attend a performance of the National Theatre of the Deaf. It was interesting that their tour brought them to Salt Lake City at that particular time, because I had just recently read about the group in an article in Smithsonian Magazine. (I have since come to recognize such occurrences as not just merely happenstance, but as signs of forthcoming moments of significance. I'm not sure if this is because I'm prone to wild flights of fancy in my advancing years or just romantic yearnings that have gone unchecked for far too long. Whatever the case, I attribute none of this to wisdom. Truth be told, coincidences are probably just coincidences. But I digress . . . )

The article featured time-exposure photographs of members of the company, signing and dancing in spectacular ways; their movement captured in sweeping brushstrokes of light and fancy. The photos evoked the group's sense of joy and unbridled energy.

When I arrived at the performance hall that evening, as I was taking off my coat to settle into my seat, I momentarily glanced towards the stage. At first I thought somebody was gesticulating at me in a welcoming way. It was a young woman. She had the warmest smile and bright, intelligent eyes. I did not recognize her and realized she was looking past me at somebody several rows behind me. She started to sign. I turned around to look at the recipient of her greeting and saw a young man, now signing back at her. They were carrying on a conversation! Across the crowded theater! I watched the exchange, fascinated. They signed, they smiled, they laughed. After a few moments, others joined in on the conversation from other parts of the theater. Their hands all moved excitedly as they each took their turn in the group discussion. There was a transcendent energy that emanated from all of them, exceeding any that would arise from a normal conversation among the hearing-enabled.

It occurred to me that their communication was more outwardly directed, entailing the use of their hands, their bodies and their eyes to a much larger extent than yours or mine would under similar circumstance. I wondered if there were less misunderstandings among the deaf for exactly this reason. They were committed fully to conveying their thoughts and ideas. We are not so blessed. Our conversations are more measured and guarded, perhaps not intentionally. We are more easily distracted by external factors. Our eyes wander off as we see something of interest in the peripheral corner of our vision, our listening is momentarily disrupted as a strain of familiar music plays in the background. We are much more susceptible to distraction because we can afford to be. This is sadly to our detriment.

As I sat down in my seat, still mesmerized by the conversation going on around me, it occurred to me that in this instance, I was the impaired person. Indeed, all of us who were not part of the world we had come to visit at that concert hall that night were the ones missing out on something wonderful, something magical.

am I blue?

Chemists at Oregon State University accidently created a new, durable and blue pigment. Evidently the creation of blue pigments is problematic; ultramarine blue is expensive as it utilizes ground up lapis lazuli, cobalt blue is a possible carcinogen and Prussian blue can leach cyanide.

The chemists were actually trying to create compounds with unique electronic properties when they stumbled upon their new pigment. Sadly, it is not cheap, since it incorporates an expensive material, indium. They are now trying to replace the indium oxide with cheaper oxides.

I am enthralled by the idea that experimentation with compounds accidently resulted in blue. Rock on, blue! Who knows what other accidental discoveries await us in our experimentation?

the end of the world

The Large Hadron Collider has resumed operation today. As you may recall in a previous blog, I had addressed concerns about its potential for bringing about the end of the world. Then there's the new movie, "2012." Are you worried yet?

According to an article in the N.Y. Times published November, 16th, NASA had declared that the world was not ending - at least not anytime soon. CERN said the same thing last year. CERN's reassurance was actually issued to address concerns regarding the inadvertent creation of a black hole during the operation of the Large Hadron Collider that would swallow the earth. NASA's proclamation is more targeted to concerns about the end of the world on December 21st, 2012.

Rest assured, according to astronomers, there is nothing special about the Sun and galactic center aligning in the cosmos. This phenomena occurs every December with no consequence. And in reality, the Sun and galactic center will not exactly coincide even in 2012. So it appears we can now all relax. The earth will not be consumed by a black hole created by the Large Hadron Collider. The cosmos will not align in December of 2012 to wreak havoc upon our planet. All is well.

Scientists do however, remind us if we REALLY want to worry, let us not forget global climate change, rogue asteroids or nuclear war. Also, geological apocalypse is a good bet for destruction as well. Earthquakes large enough to swallow Los Angeles are indeed within the realm of possibilty. AND Yellowstone could erupt again with the cataclysmic force of the super volcano it once was. SOOOOO, pick your poison. Earthquakes, rogue asteroids, whatever. Just remember, you don't have to throw a black hole or the alignment of planets in the mix.

absent photographer

It's been over a year since I've taken any photos, which is unusual for me. I used to get a little down if I neglected this creative outlet. It's probably a commentary on how many other distractions have diverted me from some of my normal passions these days.

Yesterday, I brought my camera to work on a whim. I've had an idea for a portrait shot I wanted to explore recently, and coincidentally, my co-worker, Kim Riley (also a photographer), asked when I was going to shoot photos of her again! I told her about my concept and we took about 15 minutes to do a set-up, and shoot off about a half-dozen images before my long-neglected camera's batteries died.

The nice thing about working with a photographer as your subject is that they are able to visualize your idea and can contribute to its realization on film. My idea entailed the use of a fan that was not as cooperative as I would have liked. The net of this long explanation is that while I was not able to achieve my "vision," it was very gratifying to look through the viewfinder of my trusty camera once more to at least attempt to do something creative. The images you see here are my favorites. Stay tuned. Hopefully, armed with a fresh set of batteries and two fans this time instead of one, I will be able capture that image that has been forming in my mind. When it happens, I'll post it here.

mexican coke revisited, pepsi throwback

A while ago I posted a blog about Mexican Coke, my favorite drink. This week in the New York Times Magazine (which is dedicated entirely to the subject of food), an article appeared entitled "Cult Classic" by Rob Walker. It reaffirms my position, however irrational, that there is nothing quite as pure and clean tasting as the Mexican variety of this iconic American drink. Walker writes that as per a Coke spokesman, while there are differences in the sweeteners used for regional Coke products depending upon economics and availability, there are no perceptible differences in taste. Walker suggests that the difference could be attributed to the sweetener used, but also adds that the glass bottle of Mexican Coke may play a part as well. Glass is the most inert material in which Coke is packaged versus the plastic bottles or aluminum cans that are the norm. Whatever the reason, Walker is a fellow devotee. He, too, is willing to spend that extra amount to have a Mexican Coke with his lunch rather than the less expensive, more commonplace U.S. variety.

As a nod to the success of Mexican Coke, Pepsi unveiled a limited run of Pepsi Throwback, their own version that incorporated pure cane sugar rather than the usual high fructose corn syrup. At that time, I immediately jumped on it, storing and hoarding a respectable number of Pepsi Throwback bottles in my basement. I am down to my last one. Although I prefer Coke (the products are not as "sweet" as Pepsi's), I felt that just like the Mexican Coke, Pepsi Throwback had an amazingly pure and clean taste. Pepsi Throwback it should be noted, is packaged in cans and plastic bottles, thus dispelling the idea that the glass bottle is solely attributable to the taste difference. Interestingly, as a concession to the hue and cry of Pepsi fans, Pepsi has announced the limited return engagement of Pepsi Throwback beginning December 18th. It will be available for 8 weeks. If you are an afficienado, I recommend you stock up.

And oh, a while ago, I also touched upon my obsession with blueberry soda. I had the opportunity to try Izze Soda's version. Don't bother.

did you know?

Again, reading the NY Times, I stumbled upon another interesting fact that I thought deserved some attention. Did you know that during this period of nuclear disarmament, we are dismantling Soviet nuclear weapons and using the material to generate electricity via our nuclear power plants? Uranium used in generating electricity is enriched to less than 5 percent. Isotopes in nuclear weapons are enriched to about 90 percent. Currently 10 percent of the electricity in the United States is generated via this source. In comparison, hydropower generates 6 percent and solar, biomass, wind and geothermal together account for 3 percent.

Evidently utility companies have avoided publicizing this for fear of spooking consumers. Russian bomb materials account for 45 percent of the fuel in American nuclear reactors. This program is set to expire in 2013. Utilities are hopeful that a new Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (which expires on December 5th) will prove successful to continue the flow of nuclear material. One man's garbage is another man's treasure . . .

setting sail into space

Many years ago I read with great interest, an article about the possibility of space travel utilizing a large sail attached to a small, manned pod. The science of the sail essentially involves propelling a space ship via light that carries not only energy, but momentum. The force is a gentle one at first propelling the space ship slowly, and gradually accumulating speeds of hundreds of thousands of miles an hour. Such speeds would enable a ship to travel the distance of our solar system in 5 years. Using the light from a powerful laser, a journey to another star system could be made in 100 years.

Experiments are currently underway testing the feasibility of this mode of travel. The woman heading a collaboration between two groups interested in this technology is Ann Druyan, the widow of Carl Sagan. Backing for some of the experiments has been provided by an anonymous donor who was intrigued by a presentation given by one of the groups. I sound like a real geek here, but I remember a Deep Space Nine episode in which the series' main character and his son sail a portion of the cosmos in a craft propelled by a large solar sail. It's a very romantic notion; sailing the stars on the solar winds generated by the sun in the darkness of space. I continue to revel in the wonders we confront each day and the possibilities that life affords us.

where the wild things are

Recently, I had the opportunity to see Spike Jonze's, "Where the Wild Things Are." My initial reaction was that I liked the film although it did not conjure up the sentimental feelings I originally experienced when I read it to my daughter oh so many years ago. The film was a little dark, a little melancholy. I know there have been many mixed reviews, ranging all the way from approval to "don't take your kids to this one." Yesterday, I read a more recent review in the New York Times written by A.O. Scott. I think he brilliantly summed up the movie and it's commentary on life. He summarizes Max's journey to "Where the Wild Things Are," his disappointment, and subsequent return home thusly:

"No place is free of conflict and bad feeling, and no person has the power to make problems disappear. Where there is happiness - friendship, adventure, affection, security - there is also, inevitably disappointment. That's life."

new year's resolution

I'm a procrastinator. I hate myself for it. Typically, if I can avoid working on something tomorrow, why work on it today? It's as if the wicked me is sabotaging the innocent, unsuspecting me to reign undue pressure and stress upon myself at the midnight hour. The sad thing though is that I'm not even a good procrastinator. While I forestall the inevitability of my tasks, I fret about them. Like the drip, drip, drip of Chinese water torture or the incessant ticking of a clock, my psyche is slowly and steadily building to a fever pitch of a silent scream. (I'm old enough to remember when people would put their watches to their ears to confirm they were still working, at least the ones without second hands. In today's electronic age you hear nothing. But I digress . . .)

As we are approaching the conclusion of yet another year, my resolution will be to work on my procrastination tendencies and to subsequently reduce the stress that I can only blame upon myself. I am too often my own worst enemy. Why contribute to the dark and evil forces that are already at play conspiring against me?

So there you have it.

My new year's resolution: to stop procrastinating. Oh, and as always, to lose weight too. And oh yeah, to teach myself how to play the harmonica. The cool kind of harmonica, not the dorky kind.

the amazing curta calculator

Once again, I have to reiterate my uncanny ability to find new and wonderful things to spend money on. Please be forewarned, I do not ALWAYS purchase the items I've blogged about with such lust. The most recent example of this is the $18,000 portable remote controlled helicopter that can serve as a platform for your digital camera. I did NOT buy one, although I did buy the recumbent trike . . . (right, Stacie?)

My latest find in my ever growing wish list of coveted playthings is the amazing Curta Calculator. Briefly, prior to the advent of inexpensive digital calculators, the Curta Calculator was a mechanical handheld device that could add, subtract, multiply and divide (and perform other calculations like squaring, determining standard deviations, etc.) to 11 places! It was produced and sold from 1947 to around 1973. The cost at the time of its final production run was around $125. Approximately 140,000 units were produced over the years. Units now sell between $300 and $5000 (and up).

Curt Herzstark of Austria, was the proud inventor of this remarkable instrument. According to many articles, Herzstark was a prisoner in Buchenwald. His Nazi captors were fully aware of his work and encouraged it, with the intent of having him produce one of his calculators as a victory gift to be given to Hitler upon the close of World War II. Well, we all know that didn't happen. However, Herzstark did go on to realize his dream and ultimately his Curta Calculator went into production.

The Curta is a beautiful example of mechanical engineering and construction. It exemplifies the finest work of its time. Even now, some of the items produced in that time period still amaze me. (I still marvel at the Minox camera, the miniature spy camera featured in so many old-time thrillers. That camera was tiny, yet sported a built-in light meter and exposure controls including full aperture and shutter speed settings.) I remember seeing these devices advertised in Scientific America magazine (yes, I know that sounds very geeky, but I didn't read them THAT much). I only wish at the time I would have made the purchase. Other items like the Haverhills pocket microscope/telescope inspired me to place my order (with no regrets. It is STILL a cool little item!). Sadly, I did not. Check it out though. The Curta Calculator. I think you will agree that it is a neat little thing of a bygone era.

http://www.vcalc.net/cu.htm

christmas came early this year

This weekend, I drove to Cedar Hills to inspect and test-drive a TerraTrike Sport that appeared in the KSL on-line classified ads a few days ago. Since I had been contemplating the purchase of a TerraTrike as my Christmas present, it seemed to make sense to consider purchasing a used one. The Sport is a better model than the Cruiser I had been contemplating. It sports an aluminum frame versus the chro-moly frame of the Cruiser, making it 4 pounds lighter. In addition, the shifting components are of a higher quality and more durable nature. In brief, I purchased the Sport for less than the cost of the Cruiser and have been riding this baby joyously for two days now. I intend to eventually ride it to and from work for my daily exercise in addition to simply enjoying it for pure recreational fun. I'll keep you posted, but I can already tell you that it has become evident that I am sorely out of shape. And yes, it is sparkle orange as shown in the original KSL ad photo above. I actually have taken a shining to it.

introspection and technology

I've been following the blog of Don Saito, a laid-off individual, who took the opportunity of his unemployment to traverse the United States in a recumbent ICE trike.

http://cycleamerica2009.blogspot.com/

At the time of this writing, he has successfully traveled from San Francisco, cross-country to Florida, to Maine, etc. and is currently somewhere around Seattle, heading home.

Don chronicles his experience in his blog whenever possible and I have been following his progress daily. I've of course been inspired by his undertaking and his blog is largely responsible for my new passion for recumbent trikes. I've considered the ramifications of such a journey in physical and psychological terms and concluded that the experience in the venue of a blog might be altered in a way that detracts from its full potential benefits however.

Undertaking a journey alone suggests that there would be many solitary hours to experience one's surroundings and reflect upon one's life. With today's technology, I'm not sure Don is feeling the isolation that would normally provoke such introspection. Each day as he finds camp he chronicles his progress in his laptop (I imagine), to post at a later time when Wi-Fi becomes available to him. I wonder if this process, writing with an audience in mind, doesn't change his "voice" to one that externalizes his experience. Knowing there are people out there who are following his trip seems to change the fundamental nature of a solo adventure. It seems akin to spending time at a monastery and taking along your television and iPod. I think perhaps writing about the experience afterwards might have allowed Don a deeper and richer journey. While technology is a wonderful thing, I'm not convinced it is always such a wonderful thing.

recumbent trike

I had the opportunity to drive to Payson this weekend to test drive the three recumbent trikes I had decided upon based on "value" (another term for the best I can afford). One of the premier dealers in the country is Utah Trikes. Nice that they are located nearby (sort of).

It was a blast! I couldn't stop grinning! The recumbent trike has been compared to a sports car in the family of bicycles and I could easily see why. You sit very low in a recumbent, so even standing (that is, sitting) still, you feel like you're already moving fast. The recumbent position also provides a high degree of comfort with a totally different pedal feel. While you cannot stand on the pedals as you do in a conventional bike when going uphill, I understand you become accustomed to pedaling in such a way that you still have the capability of going up steep ascents with the added bonus of simply stopping and resting when you become overtaxed. You just apply the brakes and remain seated while you catch your breath.

This means little to those who have no interest in this sort of thing, but the three models I tested were the KMX Typhoon, the Catrike Trail and the TerraTrike Cruiser. Of the three, the Typhoon is really in a different class from the other two. It is really targeted at teens and younger bikers who are looking for a fun ride at a low price ($1099) and seemed more like a BMX version of a recumbent trike. The Catrike was nice (at $1749), but did not have an adjustable seat, which is an important consideration to me, especially if I ride long distances. The Catrike was the lightest of the three bikes however, and felt very nice although I did experience some pedal steer (meaning the bike sways from side to side as you pedal - something practice can help rectify, but interestingly, I did not experience it in the other two models). The TerraTrike Cruiser ($1499) proved to be the best of the three in my opinion, possessing a nice degree of comfort, no pedal steer and marvelous handling (indirect steering, which is again something of no interest to the unitiated. I think direct steering might be preferable, but for my money, the indirect steering was smoother). Santa (aka my wife) suggested that the Cruiser might be my Christmas present if I've been good this year. So, like the children you see in old movies, I may be out there in the snow on Christmas Day tooling around the neighborhood on my new trike. I've already begun planning my route to work and back and have carefully studied the bike path maps for SLC and Salt Lake County . . .

inner teenaged boys and their toys

I’m always looking for unique ways of spending money I don’t have. As an example, I recently posted a link to the ultimate camera accessory, a remote-controlled, highly maneuverable helicopter that starts at about $16,000 (see http://www.draganfly.com/uav-helicopter/draganflyer-x6/gallery/videos/). Never mind the fact that I will never purchase one, it’s just plain cool and fun to imagine.

Well, my latest dalliance into the fantasy world of acquisition is the Ice Trice Q (http://www.ice.hpv.co.uk/trikes/q.htm). This is a recumbent tricycle (yes, I said tricycle), with two wheels in the front for stability, and the third wheel rearward. This configuration is known as a “tadpole” design in the vernacular of three-wheeled vehicles. The more traditional tricycle design with one wheel in the front is referred to as a “delta.” While the word “delta” sounds much cooler than “tadpole,” I’m afraid I would have to defer to the design advantages of the tadpole if I were ever to make such a purchase, namely, speed, stability, drive train simplicity and touring comfort. These babies go for a starting price of about $2,800 and increase as you begin to add more sophisticated components and accessories. In deference to safety considerations, I would most certainly purchase a flag to increase my visibility to others (I know, I know, this seems like “Big Wheels” for grown-ups), a rear-view mirror and several strategically placed bicycle lights at a minimum.

I’m not sure what it is that appeals to me about these trikes, but they do offer the promise of comfort, freedom, health and adventure. One individual, a 52 year-old gentleman of Japanese descent who was recently laid off from his job (talk about a doppelganger), took the opportunity of his circumstances to ride across the United States in his Ice Trice Q. He began his journey in March and is still on the road. See his blog at http://cycleamerica2009.blogspot.com/.

So the question now becomes, how can I get my hands on $2800+ of disposable money?

blueberry soda

During our recent visit to Maine, I discovered a local culinary favorite, Moxie Soda. According to the travel guides, Moxie Soda, like Dr. Pepper and Coca-Cola originated as an elixir claimed to cure many ailments. Naturally, after the formation of the Food and Drug Administration, such claims were quickly abandoned. Moxie Soda, however, remains one of the oldest sodas on the market even though it has not moved beyond the region where it originated. Sadly, it had an odd taste (which may account for the reason it has not moved BEYOND the region where it originated). As a friend commented, it tastes like a poor imitation of root beer. Locals like to drink it mixed with their whiskey, although some say that they like it undiluted. Most admit it is an "acquired" taste. In any event, it is not for me. I will not be ordering Moxie Soda via the internet anytime soon.

I DID however, discover Blueberry Soda during my travels in Maine. This was a delightful surprise. Initially I was skeptical, but found the taste of blueberries, blended with carbonation, to be the perfect balance of flavor, sweetness and "texture" (not to mention its beautiful color). Today, I decided to order a shipment of Blueberry Soda via the internet, but during my search, stumbled upon a recipe! I share it here with you, but advise you to wait until I have had time to test it before your proceed. I have high hopes however and will let you know how it tastes shortly. I figure worst case I can always order the manufactured stuff. Following is the recipe attributed to Alton Brown:

Ingredients

• 20 ounces fresh blueberries, approximately 4 cups, rinsed and drained
• 2 cups water
• 7 ounces sugar
• 1 lime, juiced
• Carbonated water

Directions

Place the blueberries and the water into a medium saucepan, set over medium-high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer for 15 minutes. Remove the saucepan from the heat and pour the mixture into a colander lined with cheesecloth that is set in a large bowl. Allow to cool for 15 minutes. Gather up the edges of the cheesecloth and squeeze out as much of the liquid as possible. Discard the skin and pulp. Return the blueberry juice to the saucepan along with the sugar and lime juice. Place over medium high heat and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Bring to a boil and cook for 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and transfer to a heatproof glass container and place in the refrigerator, uncovered, until completely cooled.

To Serve: Combine 1/4 cup of the liquid with 8-ounces of carbonated water and serve over ice.

mercedes sosa

Mercedes Sosa died today at the age of 74. Mercedes was an Argentine singer with a beautiful contralto voice. She was very charismatic and sang many songs that championed social justice in the face of government repression in her home land. At one point, she was banned from Argentina's radio and television stations for her political views. She fled to exile to Europe for several years during that period, unable to earn a living. She eventually returned when the dictatorship collapsed to find a loyal following and dramatically increased popularity. She went on to win numerous Latin Grammy Awards. Mercedes performed in the United States several times and received a 10-minute standing ovation at Carnegie Hall. According to Joan Baez, she was so moved by Mercedes Sosa's voice at a performance that she (Joan) fell to her knees to kiss Mercedes' feet. One of my favorite songs is "Unicornia." I played a CD of a collection of some her favorites from the past 20 years today in her honor. If you have the opportunity, I hope you will give her a listen sometime.

the facebook phenomena

As a new initiate into the world of Facebook, I’m still learning its vernacular, subtleties and mechanics. My first impression is that Facebook is an oddly impersonal way of being personal. You post something out there on your wall for all of your friends to see (like a mass mailing, “Dear Occupant . . .”). THEN, they can respond with a comment at their leisure. While this is nice from a time shift perspective, it just rings a little “hollow” for me. At least e-mail is a direct exchange with one targeted friend. Perhaps this is indicative of my old age and my increasing inability to embrace the new. (I need to comment here that we have all lost the eloquence of the written word as evidenced by letters read in the Ken Burns documentary, “The Civil War.”) Give me some time though, I’m still grappling with the concept of social networking.

I do wish to take the opportunity here to personally thank Facebook for making me feel like a loser. It appears that most Facebook participants have hundreds, even thousands of friends. I have a grand total of nineteen friends and I don’t see that number increasing any time soon. Of the nineteen friends, one is my wife, another, my daughter, one is the teenager who mows my lawn (Hey, Taylor), and one is a total mistake. (Don’t worry, it’s none of you dear readers.) This only reinforces my impression of myself as a friendless hermit, lacking in social skills, unable to forge any deep emotional bonds. Yes, I could claim that my nineteen Facebook friends are CLOSE friends (Hey, Taylor), not gratuitous ones, but this is only true to a certain extent. Some of my “friends” are not responding to my “friend requests” or are not on Facebook. And did I mention that since joining Facebook, I HAVE managed to spook an old college girlfriend who must have thought I was stalking her (oh, yeah, come to think of it, make that EIGHTEEN friends)? I’m beginning to think Facebook is really an abbreviation for “In Your Face!” book . . .

cincinnati chili

As I've mentioned in a previous post, I love to cook. I have very few passions, but this is one of them. Actually, I think the correct thing to say is I love to EAT, and since a lot of the things I like to eat cannot be obtained on demand, I resort to cooking them myself. One such example can be found in my recent craving for Cincinnati Chili. This is a dish I became acquainted with during one of my numerous visits to that fair city (which was a major training center during my tenure at AT&T). One of the instructors of one of my first training sessions suggested that a visit to Cincinnati was not complete without sampling the local dish.

For the uninitiated, Cincinnati Chili is not like your traditional chili. It contains a mixture of spices and ingredients (cinnamon, allspice, chili powder, apple cider vinegar, brown sugar, tomato sauce, chicken broth and ground beef that is boiled in the sauce) that combines to form a mildly sweet, aromatic, mildly spicy chili. But the uniqueness does not end here. Cincinnati Chili is served in several possible variations: two-way, three-way, four-way or five way. Two-way is with the chili served over spaghetti noodles (this is the minimal way - it MUST be served with the spaghetti, otherwise it is not Cincinnati Chili). Three-way adds grated cheese on top. Four-way builds upon the mound with raw onions, and finally, Five-way adds kidney beans. It's really quite an odd dish and you can sample it in the food court of the Cincinnati Airport if you have time during a connection there (a Delta hub). The booth that serves it is directly across from the McDonald's. In reality, I found the dish to be a little off-putting, but thought the novelty of it to be quite charming.

Recently, Cooks Illustrated, my favorite source for recipes, featured their version of the regional dish. Whatever flaws I found with my samplings in Cincinnati have been masterfully addressed in the C.I. version. C.I. has refined the combination of ingredients to the point of perfection. The dish I once thought odd, but quaint, and not necessarily desirable has now become a frequent obsession of mine. Never mind that is has no redeeming nutritional benefits (well, I guess there IS protein), the important thing is that it makes me happy and warm inside, all the while delighting my taste buds! Last night, I made a batch after a self-imposed hiatus of three months without Cincinnati Chili. It was truly a culinary delight. I recommend it highly. I'm not sure what the ramifications would be of posting the recipe on the web, but if you're tempted to try it, shoot me an e-mail and I'd be happy to share it with you.

Cincinnati Chili. It is the "Sin" in "Cincinatti!"

personal violation

Well, I've just violated my own personal oath to ban current photos of myself from this blog until I had undergone some weight loss. This is a photo I just had to post. We are season ticket holders to the University of Utah's Women's Gymnastics Team meets. This last Saturday, for my work, I had to man a booth at the annual Avenues Street Fair. As it happens, the University of Utah's booth was situated just across the street. When the entire team showed up, I shyly asked Megan Marsden, the co-head coach of the team, if she would let me have my photo taken with her. At that point, Megan asked, "Why don't we just have a picture taken with you and the whole team?"

That's me in the center looking a little coy, but loving every minute . . .

dr. who

Have I mentioned that I have become a Dr. Who fanatic? PBS started broadcasting the newly revived Dr. Who series about three years ago, with Christopher Eccleston in the lead role, then transitioned into the tenth Doctor, David Tennant. Eccleston was a good intro into the new Doctor, but for my money, David Tennant is the perfect embodiment of the Time Lord. He is humorous in the face of danger, reveling in the adrenaline rush, yet lonely in his place in the universe and somewhat egomaniacal - in other words, the just-right, dashing hero figure for a tongue-in-cheek sci-fi series!

PBS is presently re-running the third season, but somehow I could not bring myself to wait for future installments (we're behind the BBC broadcasts by two years), so I purchased the remaining two-plus seasons (two seasons plus two extra episodes) from iTunes. Word has arrived that David Tennant is leaving the series to be replaced by a 25 year-old actor, Matt Smith, beginning in 2010. The producer, Russell T. Davies, will also be leaving the series. I attribute the brilliance (to coin a British phrase) of the show to Davies, so I have my doubts that the new Matt Smith series can live up to the whole David Tennant series run. I have to tell you however, that viewing all 5 seasons is a treat. The season (5) finale was one of the most climactic, emotionally pitched TV shows I have seen here to date. It was a two-parter that incorporated many of the elements from the five-year run, not to mention ongoing story lines from the original Dr. Who series dating back to 1963!

I even broke down about a year ago and ordered my toy replica of Dr. Who's sonic screwdriver, which I will occasionally bring out and wield while watching some of the episodes. There's also a USB hub shaped like the Tardis, the Doctor's time/space machine that I will undoubtedly be ordering soon . . .

If you enjoy a fun show with plenty of colorful characters and surprising emotional resonance, I highly recommend you purchase the series. Some shows are not as stellar as others, but there are enough gems to make it well worth the price of entry. Even the incidental episodes contribute to the character development and overall myth of Dr. Who.

love, kung fu and the New York Times

I'm a romantic. I hate myself for it. Romantics, like optimists, are very susceptible to disappointment. We hope for the happy endings and root for the triumph of good over evil. It's really quite pathetic, yet I cannot seem to help myself. Originally I attributed it to my age as I read somewhere that men became more emotional in their advancing years, but in retrospect, I've always been a romantic. I blame the media. Movies, books, television, music, all shamelessly promote love in unrealistic ways even when they are lamenting its loss and subsequent pain. And I have been there every step of the way, taking it all in.

When Joni suggests we attend a romantic comedy for one of our movies of the week, I protest somewhat mildly, but am secretly reveling in the prospect of screening yet another variation of the boy meets girl (or these days it COULD be a boy meets boy or girl meets girl) storyline. Oddly, I also still revel in typical "guy" movie fare like a good old action movie with plenty of fight scenes. So when you present me with something like "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" or "The House of Flying Daggers," well, as you can imagine, I am in movie heaven. I cannot fathom a higher art form than a love story within a Kung Fu movie.

I always begrudgingly watch these love stories unfold, but unfailingly succumb to the swelling orchestration in the background and emotion-packed climax as the two lovers finally proclaim their love for one another. (In college, I always waited for that music to commence whenever I was with my girl friends, but it never came . . . ). I recognize intellectually that the love on that screen is just as fabricated as the exploding car tumbling end over end in an action sequence, but somehow I still find myself BELIEVING in that moment. Well, if not believing in that moment, WANTING to believe in that moment. I suppose this is the true revelation of my older age: knowing the difference in believing and wanting to believe.

I have gained enough wisdom over the years to realize that love in real life is something that requires more effort and tolerance and forgiveness than anything portrayed in the movies. I have come to recognize that it is because of this that real love is more rewarding when its challenges are met and overcome. And like the ebb and flow of the ocean, it has its own rhythm.

Still, it's fun to engage in entertainment that dwells upon the conceit of love. Now that I have my iPod, I subscribe to the free daily feed provided by the NY Times. If you are like me and enjoy a good love story, I highly recommend a weekly visit to its illustrious wedding section. Contained therein are many modern day fairy tales written especially for us romantics. And just like in the movies, these stories always end with a happily ever after . . .

a few facts about lobsters

At the end of our trip to Maine, we visited the Oceanarium, a lobster hatchery, to learn more about lobsters. I felt it was only fitting since I had so voraciously feasted upon them each day during that time. Here are a few of the more interesting facts:

True lobsters have two very powerful claws. One claw is sharp and used for cutting, the other is bony and used for crushing. Lobsters that have their heavy ("crusher") claw on the right are considered "right-handed" and the others are "left-handed". Some lobsters are ambidextrous, they usually favor the claw that is the largest. True lobsters have two very powerful claws. One claw is sharp and used for cutting, the other is bony and used for crushing. Lobsters that have their heavy ("crusher") claw on the right are considered "right-handed" and the others are "left-handed". Some lobsters are ambidextrous, they usually favor the claw that is the largest.

Rubber bands are placed around the lobsters' claws for the protection of other lobsters, not necessarily its handlers.

According to the Oceanarium, a local university did a comprehensive study of the nervous system of lobsters and concluded that it was not developed enough to allow them to feel pain. This was very comforting and I CHOOSE to believe this, even though I have read contrary reports on other websites. I do not remember which university was cited, but after all, it is an institution of higher learning that did the research . . .

Another source on the web (this time from the Five Islands Lobster Company reads), "For those of you who are concerned about cooking screaming lobsters, here are the facts. The nervous system of a lobster is decentralized and has been compared to that of a grasshopper. From what we know, this means they probably feel little or no pain. They also have no vocal chords. The sound you may hear is actually steam escaping from the shell as the lobster cooks. If you're still concerned about hurting the lobster, begin to cook it in cold water instead of hot. As the temperature rises, it will put the lobster to sleep. So will laying it on its back for a few minutes."

Female lobsters can store the male's sperm for up to two years and individually fertilize each egg (ranging anywhere from approximately 8,000 to 100,000 depending upon their age and size).

Somewhere between 80% an 90% of the lobster produced in the U.S. originates from Maine.

The lobster population in Maine is experiencing healthy growth, which means we don't have to feel guilty for enjoying its flavorful deliciousness.

I close here with the oft heard statement, "You are what you eat."

a good friend

I have a good friend from my days in Connecticut with AT&T dating back some 14 years ago. Bob Breau worked in our media center and was in charge of compiling our "raw" drafts and customer information into polished, bound proposals complete with the customer's logo and beautiful charts and graphics he created. Bob has been and always will be a very interesting fellow. He reads voraciously and has many interests ranging from music to nature to science, to just about anything you can name. In fact, I cannot think of an area of human endeavor that Bob has not explored to some extent. We have maintained contact throughout the years via e-mail and his e-mails are always packed with interesting tidbits. He has sent photos as well as sound clips taking full advantage of technology to share information. There are times when I will prompt him to send more information by asking innocently if anything interesting is going on in his neck of the woods. He never disappoints.

Several years ago, when we were in the CT area scouting colleges for my daughter, Bob made a distinct effort to connect up with us to spend some time together with me and my family. On our trip to Maine last week, Bob drove 200 miles to meet up with us once more. Of course, he does have a sister who lives not far from Portland, so he did have lodging, meals and the chance to visit his sister as well, but nonetheless, I am grateful and touched he would extend himself in such a maner. I have "friends" nearby who probably would not even deign to drive me to the airport in a pinch.

We spent the good part of a day exploring the city of Portland together and catching up. We shared a couple of moments of hilarity, one involving a very odd, but colorful clerk at a local hardware store whom we encountered again on the street many blocks from his place of employ. The clerk could have easily been a character in the movie "Ghost World." Bob commented it was almost as if he had been hired as an extra for a movie we were in and he was asked to double as a passerby for the street scene in addition to his role as sales clerk. Reviewing this, here on the computer screen, it isn't as funny as it was at that moment. You had to be there.

In any event, I wanted to acknowledge Bob's friendship and thank him for keeping in touch all of these years. Thanks, Bob! You da MAN!

divining rods

During our visit to Fort Knox in Penobscot Bay (the OTHER Fort Knox, not the one where the gold reserves are kept), I spotted a small display of divining rods in the museum shop. Naturally, I could not resist the temptation and purchased myself a pair of L-Rods. Divining rods come in different configurations, with the sort of wishbone shaped stick being the most well-known. L-Rods resemble the letter "L" and come in pairs. The handles are hollow tubes and L-shaped copper wires are placed within the tubes to allow free-movement of the wires to do their thing. Tradition calls the ability to utilize a divining rod as "dowsing." Dowsing is the sixth sense originating from one's subconscious mind.

The document that accompanied my purchase of the dowsing rods claims that as your proficiency increases, "you will also be able to locate lost pipes, unmarked grave sites, lost treasure and other earth features with a high degree of accuracy and confidence."

Today, there exists an American Society of Dowsers (Inc.) headquartered in Danville, Vermont. There are approximately 1000 members with other smaller (dowser) organizations throughout the world.

There are many theories about the dowsing phenomenon. It is purported that those who believe it is possible and could work have moderate success, followed by increasing success as confidence and belief strengthens. As I have mentioned in earlier posts, I want to believe in such things (see my post regarding the Loch Ness Monster). I'm intrigued by the possibilities of things unseen and unexplained. I can attest to the fact that as I departed happily from the store with my L-Rods in hand (wasn't it P.T. Barnum who proclaimed, "There's one born every minute!"?), I swear the wires started to rotate freely, coming to rest for a brief moment, then arced towards the river to my left in unison! I turned with my back to the river, re-positioned the L-Rods in my hands once more with the identical result. The wires began to rotate, stalled for a brief moment as if settling into a final resting position, then slowly turned (again in unison) and pointed directly behind me! My daughter, Marissa, tried utilizing the L-Rods with exactly the same results. When Joni and Chris, my daughter's boyfriend, tried the L-Rods, neither achieved any positive results. Perhaps their shared training as lawyers was a hindrance to their psychic success.

I did try the divining rods again that night in the comfort of our hotel room and the L-Rods behaved in the same manner. In this instance, they both pointed directly to my left. I had no idea where any bodies of water lay in relation to the hotel room so I cannot vouch for their accuracy, but the fact that they both pointed in the same direction leads me to believe something was at play here. I'll have to keep you posted as I experiment more with these things. I figure my $7.00 investment is a small price to pay for a renewed sense of wonder . . .

consequences

I neglected to mention that I gained an additional 3.7 pounds due to my overindulgent ways in Maine!

the food of maine

Where to begin regarding some of the restaurant highlights of Maine? In chronological order they were:

Duckfat - owned by the same purveyors of Hugo's, a renowned destination dining restaurant (see below). Duckfat is known for its fries cooked in duckfat. The duckfat renders the fries a deep brown color mirroring the richer, more earthy flavor. We ordered the fries with cheese curd and duck gravy (referred to as Poutine), but also tried some with truffle ketchup, which was absolutely amazing. The truffles added depth to the ketchup which simply has to be experienced firsthand. Duckfat does not take reservations, so needless to say, we had to wait for quite a while before we were seated. We also ordered their vanilla milkshake which has to be one of the richest shakes I've ever had. The vanilla ice cream was obviously home made, incorporating the freshest of vanilla beans.

Hugo's - that same evening, we had procured reservations at Hugo's. Chef Rob Evans was the winner of the 2009 James Beard Foundation for the Best Chef of the Northeast. We began the evening with Romaine Hearts, white anchovy, parmesan, caesar dressing and bottarga. The simplicity of this first course was superb due primarily to the freshness of the ingredients. The Romaine Hearts were crispy and sweet. For the second course (actually another first course choice, but we shared), we had Watermelon & Watercress Salad, with goat cheese, organic radish topped with a citrus vinaigrette. Again the excellence of this course was based upon the finest freshest ingredients. Finally, the entree was Prime Beef Rib Eye, potato- miso puree, onion jus with multiple garnishes. The portions were very small, but overall the dining experience was superb. We overheard a waiter telling a patron that some of the courses took three days preparation. It is not difficult to believe judging from some of the dishes featured on the menu.

I won't bore you with too many more details, but have to mention a couple of other highlights:

The Azure Cafe in Freeport was located in a small building in the middle of town. I had the Freeport fish and chips made of haddock that was probably among the finest I have ever experienced. The batter was light and did not overpower the fresh delicacy of the haddock. Even the fries tasted light and were not greasy at all. I also sampled their lobster roll which contained some of the sweetest lobster meat of the trip. I suspect from the cost, the lobster meat may have been harvested solely from the claws, the most tender and prime part of the lobster.

Finally, Fore Street in downtown Portland capped off the entire trip with what was the finest meal we had in Maine. You cannot pull up a menu for Fore Street on their website because it is determined by whatever ingredients they purchase that day. There are a few favorites they do offer consistently however, like their hanger steak and spit-turned chicken.

We started out with a tomato tartlet appetizer which was nothing short of amazing. The tomato was baked to sweet perfection in a flaky dough that complimented the taste and texture perfectly. We then had mussels, steamed and swimming in its own juices and butter. As with most high end restaurants in Maine, the mussels were fresh and of the highest quality. The entree was striped bass with fresh celery relish and broccoliette. The delicacy of the fish and the fresh test of the celery were again a wonderful combination of ingredients that served to enhance each other. Finally, the dessert was a warm Rainier Cherry upside down cake with caramel sauce and house made vanilla ice cream. This was a dessert I will never forget! I can still taste the warmth of the cake and the caramel sauce in my mouth just as the sweet tartness of the cherries hit my taste buds . . . Just so you are aware of its credentials, in 2002, Fore Street was named Number 16 in Gourmet Magazine's Top Fifty Restaurants in the United States. In 2004, Chef-partner Sam Hayward was named Best Chef in the Northeast by the the James Beard Foundation.

Finally, as mentioned, I had lobster in one form or another each day of our visit in Maine. Most of it was in the form of lobster rolls, one of my favorite dishes culled on our first visit to Maine. Most places were tiny shacks manned by high school students earning their summer pay, but all you really need to know to produce a fine lobster roll is how to cook fresh lobster, get the meat out of the shells, mix it with a little mayonnaise or butter and slap it onto a grilled hot dog bun (which in the Northeast is really a slice of bread folded in half). There were admittedly, small variations in the lobster roll in the different shacks, but most were superb. I don't know if this can be attributed to the fact that I only visited those shacks recommended by the guide books, but I suspect as in anything, quality control and good management make for some better shacks than others. Occasionally, I would indulge in other menu items like fried clam strips during these visits to the shacks, but honestly, I faithfully adhered to having lobster each and every day in some form or another. Perhaps given another week, I may have tired of this seafood choice, but overall, we were there for 9 entire days, and I am confident I could go for more days, perfectly content.

more images of maine

This is the Portland Observatory. The observatory was used to track incoming ships in the old days to signal dockworkers to prepare for unloading. A flag of the particular ship's company would be hoisted to identify the ship. Visitors can climb the observatory for a wonderful 360 degree view of Portland.

This is the Portland Headlight, the most photographed lighthouse in the United States. I shot photos in a fog enshrouded setting of this very same lighthouse over 10 years ago. Nearby was the Lobster Shack, essentially a shack that served lobster with both indoor and outdoor seating with a nice view overlooking the water. It was touted in one of my guide books as one of the best places of this type to enjoy lobster. We were not disappointed. The going price for lobster rolls ranged from $12.95 to about $19.95, so needless to say, after purchasing the accompaniments like fries or onion rings (fattening and bad for your arteries, but oh so delicious!), drinks and a slice of blueberry pie, you we were shelling out something like $48 to $56 on average for two people. And this was at a place no more classy than a drive-in! It was worth every penny . . .

This is the Penobscot Bay Bridge. Visitors can ascend in the elevator to the top of the 420-foot tower on the right. As the elevator doors open, you face a wall of glass which can be somewhat unsettling. There are only three bridges of this type in the world and this is the only one in the United States.

This is the view of the town of Bucksport, Maine from the tower.

A shot of a restaurant in Bar Harbor. We didn't actually eat here, but the entryway deserved to be photographed.
Sadly, we encountered fog during our visit to Acadia National Forest. It did make for some moody images. The photograph of the boat shrouded in fog on two previous posts was shot on the same day.

images of maine

We took a short cruise to Peak's Island for a lobster cookout. This is the view as we entered the harbor. Peak's Island is the closest one to Portland and boasts the highest population of year-around residents of any of the islands due to its proximity.

This is the view of Portland at dusk upon our return from the cookout.

maine

I've just returned from our Maine adventure. I can tell you that it is possible to eat lobster every day and that no, I did not tire of it. It IS a very expensive proposition however, and even the most modest of lobster shacks did exert a toll on my pocketbook. The trip really turned out to be more of a foodies guide to Maine taking precedence over the sights. I'll post a review of some of the more memorable meals there shortly along with some photos.

We experienced the best dinner on our final night in Portland at the Fore Street restaurant. It was located in a lovely, very old but expansive brick building one block up from the wharf on, you guessed it, Fore Street. The menu cannot be viewed on line since it is determined by the day's purchase of the finest fresh ingredients. Sadly, I did not take photos of the meals as others were obviously doing as their flashes went off nearby.

To be continued.

I'll be heading for Portland, Maine shortly with family in tow (actually, I'm in tow - since it is in conjunction with a conference my wife will be attending). Happily, we will be meeting up with our daughter, Marissa, who will be joining us for a week of fun-filled adventure. I know this posting does not dwell on larger matters like the end of days brought on by the Large Hadron Collider or the Loch Ness Monster, but nonetheless, I cannot contain my excitement here. I fully intend to gorge myself on fresh lobster every day (which I have worked into our itinerary as we work our way up the coast). Fact: 90% of the lobster served in the U.S. comes from Maine. Can one ever have too much lobster? I will let you know.

Also, I am anticipating many wonderful meals. I have cross-referenced four travel guides (Fodor's, Frommer's, Mobil and Moon's) in selecting restaurants where I have made reservations. If the selected restaurants do not appear in at least three of the four travel guides, they have been discarded from consideration.

In addition to the lobster, let's not forget Maine's blueberries and other unique culinary delights. For instance, Moxie Soda is evidently an invention of Maine's, touted as the official soft drink of the state. It originated in 1876 and was developed by a doctor who claims it helped alleviate just about any malady. After more rigorous standards were implemented by the Food and Drug Administration however, it was downgraded from its medicinal status to a mere soft drink. It is said to have a unique taste that many prefer mixed with whiskey rather than as a standalone beverage.

And, there is a woman who makes her own special version of what she calls Wicked Whoopie Pies, which have been featured on Oprah and ABC's Good Morning America. One of her outlets is in Freeport, Maine, home of L.L. Bean and an entire community of factory outlet stores. You can count on a visit there and a subsequent review. If you are interested, Wicked Whoopie Pies can of course be sent anywhere from their website.

It may appear that I will be eating my way through the state of Maine, rather than sightseeing, but really, I will post some photographs just to let you know that there are other things to do there. More to follow.

dark matter

I'm very interested in the concept of dark matter. I think it's fascinating that scientists "know" it is there even though it cannot be seen; its presence is "inferred" from the motions of astronomical objects, specifically stellar, galactic, and galaxy cluster/supercluster observations. Supposedly the universe is composed largely of dark matter.

I'm also drawn to the name itself: "dark matter." For me, our lives are intertwined with "dark matter" not altogether different from the one identified by astronomers and physicists. There are times when events in my life seem to have been influenced by an unseen, unobservable force, beyond the scope of my power to control or alter. As in the full spectrum of our experiences, these events have proven to be both uplifting and burdensome.

Dark matter.

I can only conclude that dark matter, destiny, chance, the power of a greater being or whatever we choose to call it, will continue to buffet me around, determining my trajectory or orbital path. How I behave and what attitude I adopt as dark matter continues to surround me though is my choice.

large hadron collider - continued

If you have been following some of my posts, you may be familiar with my portents of doom concerning the Large Hadron Collider. Of course, I don't really believe that a cataclysmic event will occur once all of the experiments are fully underway, BUT according to a recent article in the New York Times, the collider is presently riddled with thousands of bad electrical connections and thus far, it has yet to collide any particles at all. Could it be that this is the reason we are all still here? I'm just saying . . .

How old Cary Grant?

As an impressionable young man, I remember watching with rapt enchantment, the suave and elegant Cary Grant. Even as a child, I recognized there was something special and charismatic about this man as he occupied the screen with his nonchalant charm. He moved effortlessly from one situation to another as a precursor to James Bond. Nothing really upset him or threw him off his game. Sure he would look concerned from time to time, just to let us know he was after all, one of us, but I never really bought it. He was NEVER one of us. I tried to analyze for many years, especially as an adolescent seeking an identity, what I could incorporate that might just be a smidgen of the Cary Grant persona. I decided it was his sense of humor and mild detachment that kept him apart from the fray that all too often envelopes the rest of us humans.

In college, I stumbled upon a brief story in Newsweek about a reporter doing a piece on Cary Grant. Wanting to determine Grant's age at the time, he sent a telegram to the revered actor (yes, yes, this was a time when telegrams were commonplace). He wrote in the shortened style of telegrams, "How old Cary Grant?" After a few days, he received his answer from Cary Grant, "Old Cary Grant fine, how you?" This only served to increase my appreciation and admiration for the actor. His movie screen persona was not just fabricated, it was really a reflection of the man himself!

Why do I bring up Cary Grant here? In yesterday's NY Times, there is an article about a Cary Grant retrospective being put on at the Brooklyn Academy of Music cintematek. The reporter, Mike Hale, it seems shares my admiration for the actor as well. Grant, he writes, "was an ideal of the ascendant American male . . . urbane but athletic, absurdly handsome, but self-effacing, a joker who could be a bit of a cad, even a little cruel, but would always do the right thing in the end."

He concludes, "Watching him is to be reminded of a time when intelligence, grace and self-containment were their own rewards. The 21st century, so far, hasn't deserved him."

new website coming soon

Since abandoning my old AT&T Worldnet (dial-up) for Qwest DSL service, I have lost my personal website. It was always a little difficult to find, having an odd URL with a "~" in it. I'm in the process of revamping my site, but honestly, it will be a while since I have some forthcoming milestones fast approaching. The good news is that my new site will simply be www.stephenseko.com. Luckily, none of the other Stephen Sekos had snatched up the URL (and believe me, they're out there - one plays for a symphony, another has something to do with an aeronautical company and yet another works for AT&T in New Jersey!)

I will let you know when the new site comes on-line.

how to kill a rattler - continued

My friend and desert dweller, Celeste, mentioned that her husband recently killed a rattlesnake by drowning it. Why, you ask, would one go to such lengths rather than the tried and true (and more effortless) shotgun method of disposal? He hopes to have it stuffed for display in his living room. I sense a forthcoming territorial dispute between husband and wife . . .

the new york times

When we lived in Connecticut, we first subscribed to the Hartford Courant. While the Courant offered news about Connecticut, we never really liked it. I realize they have been awarded a number of Pulitzer Prizes over the years, but overall, the publication was generally unimpressive. As an alternative, we soon opted out for the New York Times.

I truly learned to love this newspaper. (The Sunday edition was always "packed" and was so thick and heavy, it would invariably elicit an involuntary grunt as I lifted it from the door mat to transport it into the house.) It not only featured the insightful writing of it's amazing cache of reporters, but also provided entertainment and information unavailable elsewhere. For instance, one memorable article dealt with the proper methodology of getting ketchup to pour from the stubborn Heinz glass bottles (now being overshadowed by plastic squeeze bottles). In case you were wondering, you tilt the bottle at a slight angle and tap on the "57" imprinted on the neck with the blade of your hand, like a karate chop. Another article dealt with the best bottled water in the world, with the author journeying to the spot where it sprang forth from the ground. (Panna was the water selected as the best of the best.)

Why am I writing about this? I have just loaded the New York Times app on my iPod Touch. At no cost, I can now access articles from the Times daily! I can rekindle (no pun intended here) my romance with this publication (well, I could have at any time, but again, I'm really a cheapskate as I've told you previously) once more. True, it doesn't have that same tactile quality of having the actual newspaper in my hands, but let's face it, these are modern times. Advances such as Amazon's Kindle (do you get the unintended pun now?) will undoubtedly deprive of us of this pleasure, hopefully saving trees and replenishing the oxygen in our environment. And besides, it is the content that is important here. I can now delight in the publication I enjoyed so much during my days in Connecticut. And who knows what valuable knowledge I will once again be privy to? Perhaps an article about how to effectively get those capons out of that damn obnoxious skinny little bottle . . .

the remarkable iPod touch

Being the cheapskate that I am, although I've lusted after the iPhone since its launch, I've been reticent to invest in one. I know, I know, it's now gone down to $99 if I wanted to purchase the 1st generation 8 Gig version, but there's still the matter of the minimum $59 per month subscription fee (which I assume is more with taxes, etc.).

As an alternative, I recently purchased the iPod Touch 2G 16-Gig version. While the iPod does not enable you to make calls (actually, you can over Skype via a Wi-Fi connection) or take photos or video, it basically performs all of the other functions of the iPhone. And can I just say it is amazing?

In addition to the basic iPod functions of an MP3 player, you can download videos and more importantly, apps (that's applications to you unschooled in the vernacular of Generation X). Again, being the cheapskate that I am, I've only ventured into the free apps, but I could easily be convinced to part with my hard-earned $ .99 to purchase a truly worthwhile one - and I know it is out there. Thus far I have downloaded a number of games, utilities (check out Handy Level) and services (like Pandora or Urbanspoon or Google Earth). Thanks to apps, I can waive my iPod menacingly as it simulates the sound of a lightsaber, complete with the Star Wars soundtrack playing in the background. I can send out an SOS signal using my iPod screen (only as long as the battery permits - so let's hope a rescue would not be too far off). I can open my Zippo lighter, light the flame and sway in time to the closing number of a rock band in the darkness of the arena. While none of these apps may seem immensely practical, they are oddly appealing.

Interestingly, a lot of them simulate "reality." While I can never light a fire with my Zippo program, the flame will sway with my movements. And though I cannot cut through the blast door of a fortified spaceship with my lightsaber (as if this were "reality") I can at least sound convincing as I re-enact the moves of a Jedi in combat with a Sith Warrior.

And so I have joined the grateful and awe-struck ranks of the millions of Steve Jobs fans out there. Yes, technology is an amazing thing. Yes, Apple reigns supreme. Like others, I suspect Jobs has reverse-engineered alien technology he has somehow stumbled upon. Give me a little time and I'm confident I will surely put down my iPod Touch to look-up and re-engage with the real world. In the meantime, please don't disturb me while I throw my simulated wadded paper balls into the simulated trash can, awaiting the simulated sounds of that satisfying "clunk" when I make that shot . . .

big stomach and an 11-day diet

Sadly, I've recently hit my heaviest weight once more. In the past it was relatively easier to lose the pounds, but now I find it annoyingly difficult, if not next to impossible to get back to fighting weight. As I contemplate my large stomach and what could possibly reside therein to form that round, Buddha-like shape, I have concluded in my mind that I am harboring some kind of tumor. It cannot be from my eating habits (see post below) or lack of physical activity. No. This thing I carry with me (perched precariously above my belt), is the external manifestation of a basketball-sized tumor. I cannot explain my enlarged face (now "engagingly" moon-like) nor my puffed sausage-like fingers other than to reason it is due to some sort of bloating associated with my tumor.

I'm tempted to post a recent photo of myself, but don't want to frighten friends I have not seen for a while with a face and body vaguely recognizable as me. It's sort of like those movies where they put people into fat suits. Anyway, the net of this post is to publicly declare that I am going to attempt regulating my diet and exercise for a while to see if my tumor theory holds up. If I am to reduce the size of my stomach (and subsequently other appendages) as a result, then I am obviously wrong. My round stomach and bloating is fat after all. I've found an 11-day calorie shifting diet that claims an average 8-pound weight loss at the end of this period. Stay tuned for a follow-up report. Fat? Tumor? Fat? Tumor?