saint innocent

After graduating, my wife moved to Mexico. It's one of the qualities I most admire about her. She lived at an orphanage near Rosarito, a Baja town
30 miles south of Tijuana.

Shortly after we were married, we visited the orphanage so "the boys" could meet me. I'm the gringo in the red hat.

I wish I knew Spanish. I'm fairly convinced they made fun of me the entire time, and Elaine won't tell me what they were saying.

I'll never forget how hard they laughed when they convinced me to try some god-forsakenly hot pepper. I like hot food. I like really hot food. I put Tabasco on damn near everything. But jesus help me, I thought I was going to die.

Elaine and I still speak often of "the boys." When I was visiting the orphanage, I remember thinking about how my definition of "need" is different than most world citizens; most of what I "need" is actaully just I "want." So why does it take a visit to Mexico to realize this?

Recently some of "the boys" came to see us. I was reminded that helping change lives usually means your life is changed in the process, and that which begins as kindness quickly evolves into mutual respect, satisfaction, and shared human experience. We give because we receive.

I know what I'd do if I won the lottery. I'd start an orphanage in Mexico.

old friends

I like surfing the blogosphere by clicking other people's blogrolls. I keep running into old friends.
The best bass player to ever play in my band: Joe.
The best bass player to ever play in kyle's band: Matt.
The best bass player to never play in our band: Tim.

tidbits

some other good sites i've come across with pictures of minnesota's autumn colors:
timbu went north.
some guy with lots of cool photographs.
pearl has a picture of Big Sandy. (I went to bible camp there when I was in grade school)
somebody with a blog i found using google has some nice pictures of Baker Park Reserve.


I have posted about my love/hate relationship about Walmart.
Now you can watch a dvd about the real walmart: The High Cost of Low Price. (Thanks to Pearl for the link)

the fifth season

There aren't many things I enjoy about living in Minnesota. Actually, I live in Wisconsin now. Strange. Since I live in a suburb? of Saint Paul, I still consider myself a Minnesotan. I watch the Twin Cities news channels, I still read the Star Tribune, I cheer for the Timberwolves (but not the Vikings and their crazy sex parties), and I work in Minnesota.

I say goodbye to the motherland 5 times a week, when I pass the "Thanks For Visiting" sign on the way across the river. So that makes me cheesehead now. I even sent a friend of mine one of those grotesque cheese hats. He's a 4th grade teacher. He says his kids love the hat.

Living in Minnesota - there's not much good about it. Except the schools, low crime rate, nice people, plenty of good paying jobs, the best Big Ten University in the Country, a metropolitan area with an abundance of entertainment options, and a populace gracious enough to give a pro wrestler a chance at being governor. We even make gas out of corn. Take that napa valley.

O.k., so I suppose there are some positive things about living in Minnesota. But the weather is not one of them. Unless of course you enjoy scenic drives along the river looking at the leaves in the fall. Or walking through a park as winter flakes fall and land softly on your coat (preferably a stylish one from J.Crew). Or smelling new life blooming all around you in the spring....

As I write this, I realize I enjoy 4 out of the 5 seasons. I relish Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter. I appreciate living in a place where I can experience nature's natural rhythm. But I hate the fifth season.

I don't know what to call it. But local residents know what I'm talking about. In Minnesota, Winter ends sometime around January 15th. But Spring doesn't start until April. The space between might as well be called death. Nothing grows. Nobody goes outside. Ice discourages the paperboy from delivering the paper all the way to your front door. Most people drink more. All color is gone. Have you ever had to change a tire on the side of the road when it's 15 below? I have. It's enough to make you want to start the car on fire. At least it would be warm.

Maybe the fifth season is why I appreciate Autumn, even as I dread it. I love the colors because I know they will soon be gone, pushed away by the bleakness of the fifth season. I hate the colors because I know they will soon be gone, only their memory will remain, and I'll be forced to endure another fifth season.

I know the fifth season is why I enjoy spring so much. You remember the feeling when an old friend schedules a visit, but reserves their plane fare 7 months in advance? And you wait and wait and wait, eager to see your old friend, and then finally, after 7 months of anticipation, they finally arrive, you go to dinner on the way home from the airport, and conversation is just as refreshing as it was the last time you spoke. That is what spring in Minnesota feels like.

Minnesota isn't too bad. It's the fifth season which drives people mad. But what the hell, at least it gives us an excuse to have a tall drink. Or 16.

samuel, day 6

Dear Samuel,

Why must you pee on me?

Yesterday, at the exact moment I removed your diaper from your skin, you started to pee. You hit me in the face. I swore like a drunken sailor, which brings me to life lesson #1:
Never curse in front of a lady

...Especially if the lady happens to be your wife or your mother.

In my case, both my mother and wife were present when I was changing your diaper, and thus both heard my admirable use of some of the finer words in the English language. However, neither of them think fuck is an appropriate word for a 5 day old baby to hear.

Now, I can't say I disagree with them, but I'd like someone pee in your eye someday and we'll see how you respond.

In the meantime, I'm sorry Samuel. I'll try to be a better father. My outside words should stay outside.

samuel

Dear Samuel,

Today is 10/10/05. You were born today.

Mommy kicked me awake at 3:00AM because her tummy hurt. She told me it was time you moved out. So she cleaned the toilet--never argue with a pregnant woman, Samuel. Then she did her hair--never argue with a pregnant woman, Samuel. She said we had time. I wasn't so sure--but don't ever be so stupid as to argue with a pregant woman, Samuel.


While your Mommy was risking having you pop out in the car ride to the hospital, I went and filled up with gas. On the day you were born, gas was expensive.


Samuel, you have a big sister named Ana. She was excited to meet you, even if we had to interupt her dreams at 5:00AM.


We arrived at the hospital at 6:00 AM. You moved out of your Mommy's tummy at 10:00 AM. I must say you have a knack for round numbers: born 10:00 10/10/2005.


Welcome to the family. Another 2 months and I'll let you have some of my whiskey.


And I know your sister seems big now, but I'm counting on you to protect her. Someday some boy is going to want to kiss her when I'm not around and it's your job to kick the living shit out of him.


Welcome to the world, my son. Eat well. Drink better. Strive to be happy. Pray often, even when you think it's bullshit. Don't be afraid to cry. Remember the world is beautiful. Be thankful for everything, including hardship. Smile. Smile big. You've got your mom's genes; your smile can light a room.

...and don't forget to protect your sister.

powerball update

This is getting old. I won the powerball again.

Wednesday's winning numbers:
2 15 25 30 45 Powerball: 17.

I matched the powerball, which earns me another $1. Alas, my $4 investment has returned dividends.

8 out of 10

The Common Man, a Twin Cities AM radio talk show personality, often speaks of "the 8 of 10," in reference to his theory that 80% of Americans don't use enough reasoning power.

Our nation's recent Supreme Court nominations have brought to focus a consistently contentious issue: abortion. It would seem here too, 8 out of 10 people act like idiots.

Some thoughts about the issue:
1) I'm pro-life. Sort of.

I don't like the idea of pregnancies ending for unnatural reasons. To me, it's tragic. But politically speaking, I'm pro-useyourdamnbrain. Keep reading.

2) I can't figure out why more Republicans aren't pro-choice.

There is a strong libertarian wing to the Republican party. You know the type: "Let me have my guns, my big cars, and my land. Don't pass any laws which impose on me. Don't pass any laws that limit anyone's freedom. This is America dammit. If I want to drive a tank down the highway and shoot at squirrels while waving my confederate flag and listening to Charlie Daniels, then it's my right to do so. The government has always been too big and is always putting their nose into my business."

Why aren't these types also pro-choice? It logically follows that they should be.

3) Making abortions illegal is *not* the best way to stop them. Abortion is the result of a larger cultural problem, not the cause. Even if James Dobson thinks elsewise. (BTW, when did James Dobson get so political? Couldn't he just stick to his preaching about family?)

The best way to stop abortions is to limit the number of unwanted, unplanned pregnancies. Period. If people don't get pregnant when they don't want to (or are unable to provide for a child) they won't have an abortion.

What perplexes me is that the people who scream the loudest about making abortions illegal are the usually the same people who think teaching children about sex is from the devil and that we shouldn't give "hand outs" (like contraception) to those who can't afford it. I could live to be 1000 and this will never make any damn sense.

4) Why are many people who are willing to speak in grossly general terms like "we support life" also willing to support the death penalty?

5) In regards to Supreme Court nominations: aren't there better things to worry about? Listening to James Dobson talk, you'd think he was convinced that unless we reverse the Roe v. Wade decision, the Mexican army is going to invade America and help gay terrorists burn churches.

But there are more important issues. When a woman chooses to have an abortion, your life (unless you are the woman or the baby) isn't changed. However, if your city council tells you they are tearing down your house because they are putting up a walmart, you've got problems. And thanks to a recent Supreme Court decision, city governments now have the right to take your private property, even if you don't want to give it to them. Now that's a real issue, one that could potential change your life.

6) 8 out of 10 Republican voters are being taken for a ride by their political candidates. The Republican party doesn't really want to make abortion illegal. How would they get people to the polls?

single barrel

For all of you that thought I had forgotten about whiskey...I didn't.

Two weekends ago Elaine and I had a house warming party for our new house-house. My brother warmed the party with a gift which warmed my stomach: Jack Daniels Single Barrel.

As part my commitment to public service, I descended upon the goal of comparing single barrel to Jack original. I poured a little of each into my favorite tumbler. I sipped. I tasted. I pretended I know what I was doing (other than tying on a nice buzz).

Here's my thoughts:
1) Single Barrel tastes better. A lot better. I usually drink Maker's Mark because it has a "fuller" taste than Jack (and because Jack changed their recipe to make a profit). Jack Single Barrel has the same fullness of Maker's Mark, so I like it.

What do I mean by "fullness"? Ever have a cup of weakly brewed folgers coffee, so weak it was almost clear? Compare that to a dark roasted sumatra from your favorite coffee shop. The later is "full." It coats your tongue, feels smooth in your mouth, it's flavor lingers. The former, the folgers, isn't anything; it's mostly just water. I prefer fullness in my whiskey and in my coffee.

2) If you drink 3 glasses of each, you will get drunk.

dino's gyro's

I've come across several bloggers who write marvelous restaurant reviews about marvelous restaurants. I suppose an evening at a fine eatery can only be enhanced by the experience of collecting one's thoughts and attempting to describe in prose the symphony which began in the mouth and continues into the gullet.

Being entirely unoriginal and forever questing for new material, I shall try my hand at finer art of restaurant reviews. Today's installment: the world renown Dino's Gyros.

I've been to Dino's before. I think the meat might be real. Did you know Arby's uses real meat? Turns out it really doesn't ship to Arby's stores in liquid form.

Today we had a party. The food was catered from Dino's. The chicken gyro meat was dry and tasteless. The lamb was dry and tasteless. The bread threatened freshness; they probably just microwaved it to revive it to semi-softness. The onions and tomatoes were most likely cut within the last week, so at least they weren't rotten. All in all, individual ingredients were average at best.

But o my god when they are put together if they don't taste like heaven. I think the secret is the tzatziki sauce. You could slap that stuff on a Cadillac bumper and I might like it.

We also had some of Dino's spicy feta. Try it. Try lots of it. The mixture of Tzatziki and spicy feta was divine, even if the "main" ingredients weren't.