New Year's Eve is also kind of a somber affair for me. It was my Buddy, Michael's, birthday. I had to get him buried, with full Military Honors (he was a Vietnam Era Marine) after fighting City Hall, etc., for months. Doc, 1. City Hall, 0. It also caused a minor shit-storm within the Coroner's Office here. The woman that "handled" my Buddy's' case file no longer works there. Whether or not that's because of her ineptitude in general or because of her (and the whole office) "sweeping Family-less Vet's under the carpet," I don't know. I DO KNOW that there are more guys, "alone in the world" due to varying circumstances, that were buried in local cemeteries, group grave style, no grave markers, that need to be exhumed and re-buried with proper respect. I'll leave that job to The Pro's (They're ALL Volunteers). I've already mentioned them in a prior post. M.I.A.P.. The Missing In America Project. They'll get the job done. It's "what they do," all day, every day. Cover off to all of you Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you!
Toast w/jam and tea, the good Russian Imperial stuff, at 05:30. Actually, I woke up about 03:00 and couldn't seem to get back to sleep. So, I got up. It's cold outside, 33.4 degrees. Wet-Cold, too. That shit that creeps into all your old injuries and takes up residence in them for the morning. The heat gets turned on and the fuzzies come out of the Winter Drawer. My personal favorite is flannel "house pants," a t-shirt and sweatshirt with Acorn slippers. A wool hat of any kind doesn't hurt either. The old adage: "Head, hands and feet" bears true. Keep that trio warm and you're "set." It works, no matter where you are. That and staying dry.
The Depressing News for awhile. CNN: Planes going down and horror stories from around the globe. Soap commercials in-between. New York Rep. Steve Scalise giving a speech to White Supremacists. The Third Highest Poobah in the Repukelican Party. See ya', Buddy. Michael Grimm down the tubes too. Tax evasion. "Later, Dude." At least Fox Noise is currently off air with Dish TV, my satellite provider. I wrote to Dish and said: "Fine. Tell them to go to cable or DirecTV. Fuck 'em. Anyone with a higher number than a ball-sack temperature I.Q. doesn't watch that trash anyway." Rupert Murdoch and Roger Ailes have done more to damage the objectivity of television news than any two men in history. That includes the usual roundup of Rodeo Clown "Pundits" they employ and their Bubble Headed Bleached Blondes that smoothe the Wembley neck ties and make coffee.
MSNBC is telling the story of: "Let's Go Crazy: The Story Of Making Purple Rain," hawking a book of the same title. Snore. Who cares? Joe Scarborough has a secret, androgynous, boner under the news desk...
I'll read Reuters, Euro News, The Christian Science Monitor and AP Wire if I want REAL news.
"I'm the Best You Can Get, have you Guessed Me Yet? I'm The Slime Oozin' Out Of Your T.V. Set."-F.Z.
Not much on the slate for today. Some house cleaning and a load of laundry. We're partying now, Baby. I may or may not make some quasi-Lasagne later on. The hamburger and Ricotta, Mozzarella and Parmesan and Asiago stuff that tastes a bit like frozen Stouffer's "Prison Loaf" when it's done. It's "all about the sauce and spices," in my book. I never make anything the "same way" twice. Except salad dressings and soups. I'm "sort of famous" for dressings (I make a KILLER Burgundy/Dijon/Vinaigrette,) sauces, soups, and, SALSA!
My "Doc's Private Reserve Salsa" flew off the shelves at the natural foods store I worked for in Salt Lake City, back in the late 80's. I made three temperatures: "Medium, Hot and NUCLEAR." The NUCLEAR would be in the cold case for about three hours and then, we'd run out. It came in a 1 qt. plastic tub with the standard: "Caution, Radioactive Material" warning labels I printed up on the tub lid and side/front. Hippies loved the shit. Heavy on Cilantro and Chipotle powder, Anaheim and Habanero Peppers, both red and green tomatoes, splash of red wine and a liquified Scotch Bonnet (more like: five) per gallon. Let it rest and open up in the walk-in cooler overnight. I made five gallons of each heat per week. The NUCLEAR was too hot for me to eat. I'm allergic to taking a shit that can catch my butt hairs on fire or burn/discolor the porcelain in a commode. It goes back to a Jalapeno eating contest I was foolish enough to enter in the early 80's. Took the flesh right out of my guts and off of my sphincter for days. Later, I discovered Thai Bird Chilies, which I could handle, if they'd been "flamed" to burn off some of the capsaicin. Raw, they're brutal. We used to con Newbies to Hawai'i into munching on one, as a rite of initiation.
So much for Salsa Making, 101. Stand back and watch The Master work, Grasshopper.
Just watched the tail end of a documentary on The Funk Brothers. Get y'er ass over to YouTube and listen!
-Doc
No comments:
Post a Comment