Lusting After Duck Fat

It has been a while. I have to re-learn how to do this and convince myself this is what I should do.

Not that I don't want to blog. I do.

But being sucked up into the vortex of information makes it seem like other people's stuff is so much better than your own. 

It isn't. It is just different.

And the time thing. Other things I should be doing that I don't because I'm not good at them.

And when Mr. Toxification came to town, (No, not that guy, the other guy), it made it easier to break free. But I haven't. More like easing my way out. 

Because I have real life and virtual friends in the joint.

Anyway, this is about Duck Fat.

I was messing around Woot. Which I should not do because I get frustrated.

Epic Rendered Duck Fat found on Woot.com

Duck fat is expense. But it is also dang tasty.

Especially on fries.

Being a birth frugalista, it is hard for me to justify buying a jar of duck fat. And lord have I tried to crowbar a reason to buy some duck fat.

Most of the time, the price helps keep me away from it. Usually sells for at least $18 to $20 plus dollars.

But on the day I'm typing this, it is as close to affordable as it is going to get.

I should do this.

• It taste good.
• I could put it on brussels sprouts and broccoli. I need help getting them down my throat.
• I'll never find it cheaper.
• Potatoes!

I shouldn't do this. 

• I've never cooked with it before.
• I'm not supposed to have potatoes on a regular basis.
• It is the lust for the deal, not the value of the deal. Except it does have a value.

So, one of two things will happen. 

I will fret on this all day and not buy it.

Or.

I will buy it and then chastise myself that this might be or not be a good thing to do.

Neither one of those methods are healthy. But it is what I got at the moment.

Status Report - Moving Forward is Hard Work

It has been a while. Much and little has happened to me. I still have doves cooing in the morning. Still have crickets doing their thing. Especially as I try to record the podcast.

For me, it it hard to say I'm happy. I'm not. 

There is bad stuff in America and the world. Which is why I consciously make sure I listen to the doves in the morning. 

They know there are cats in the neighborhood. 

They coo for love. 

They coo for protection.

They even coo when they fight. 

 And doves do fight. Two or more non-relatives on a branch can cause a commotion.

What else?

I'm starting to work on a health literacy certificate. I have an idea about a concept.

I want and need more training so I'm hanging out at the National Medical Library to get a move on about it.

I've restarted the Create Video Notebook but this time I'm only posting once a week-ish on functional and accessible creative tools for media creation. Probably viewed through a frugal lens but hey, I'm a frugal (but not cheap) person.

Re-entry into the world is a bit tough, but I'm doing it. Need a new pair of shoes and have to wait until I'm vaccinated to get them. But will hobble to get vax'd.

Oh, on-line grocery shopping.

This is a big one for me. I never thought I'd do it. 

For me, it works about 70% of the time.

My preference is to shop for food in person. When I couldn't, I had to switch.

It made me more thoughtful about my purchases. I could order exactly what I wanted without concern about how was I going to get it home. Or reject an item because I couldn't carry it home.

Now I can order or try out things I wouldn't have.

However, I do not have access to items that I would have found in an Asian or other markets. There is also limited brand selection with one of the services I used. 

And the meat situation was not acceptable. I'm not paying $16 for a whole chicken. $28 for a piece of beef. 

Plenty of process meats but not good deli style. Processed deli if you get my drift.

And if you don't order within a certain range of you will see sold out. 

A lot.

So yeah, I will be ordering groceries about twice a month. A combination of actual retail and on-line grocery when I work from home. 

Now prepared food delivery. Probably not again.

It hurts. It hurts the restaurants. It hurts the delivery folks.

Damn sure it hurts my wallet. 

Only thing about it that works is the delivery. But I've had food 3/4 cooked delivered. Or forgot my drink. Or the dish overly salty.

Nah. I can do bad on my own. 

Otherwise...

I'm good. Doing ok. Have plenty to do and I'm grateful.

In memory of going downtown

 It has been awhile. Lots of stuff happening and not happening.

So, cleaning out some stuff and found some old photos from one of many food festivals that I attended.

I hope that I don't forget what it is like. Or have a permanent fear of being around people.

Well, maybe for the time being that is a wise fear to have. 

Seeing how some folks are packing their Hummers for visits to places they got no reason to be.

Anyway, just a simple video. No words, just memories.

Fermenting and Maybe Letting Go

I do like the mini docs from the New York Times; quiet intimate views of real people trying to make their way in the world.


I sometimes like to imagine that I would become a back to nature homesteader. The reality is that it takes a hell of a lot of work. There isn't anything romantic about it but the landscape, sky and trees.

Everything else requires hard labor and love.

But I do like the lack of people. The earth and sky. The quiet.

Then I remember the few times I was in the country I got kinda itchy after two weeks. There is a part of me that needs city life too. Still, I envy this man. He lives as both and maybe, maybe it is possible to have both in one lifetime.


Speaking of letting go there is a new episode of the Anxiety Road Podcast; this one is on music tricks to nip an attack and a breath game for iOS and Android.

Books, Bread and Soul Work

I may have misread a sentence. I thought it said that books do soul work. It didn't. But it isn't unreasonable to think so; there are books that do soul damage under the guise of being right, being authentic or being the other and the other is always in power mode over the lesser.

I know that there are books for me that got me to this point in life. I needed to know that there was something other than what I was currently experiencing. Science fiction and adventure books carried me down the road.

These days I consume paper books, audiobooks, podcasts and other ways to keep me steady and on the path of ...

Well, on the path. That path leads to temptation. No immediate access to a book or spoken word recording could lead a person to seek oral gratification.

This is a dangerous place for carbo-holics. Bread, bread products, pastries, cakes and more stuff. It is still new in town and they are still knocking out the kinks but dang it I've been twice and trying hard not to make it three times in a month.

It is not the best bakery but it has tasty treats and is affordable. Now me, I liked the Squid ink bread ball. I also liked the chocolate then bread then chocolate then coffee and then something else bread ball.

Then there was this:

Never mind the super sized Ding Dong, which was just dandy, those creme puffs had actual cream; more cream that puff. I'm talking if you eat a loaded creme puff in the company of men folk they will get distracted watching you trying to eat said cream puff.

I may have shared too much.

Now I know I have to eat more responsibly. I try. I voluntarily eat veggies. I cut back on the fat when I remember. But it has been a hard week. Stupid people to the left and idiots on the right.

I want solace. I want comfort. I want more cream puffs!

And I can't have any more. I've exceeded the oral gratification budget for the week and probably month. I now need to hunker down and do some of that soul work like write; trying to figure out how to do my health literacy final project and do laundry.

Why am I always doing laundry?

Laundry can be soul work but you have to be willing. It takes time and acknowledgment of responsibility. And, as I was reminded this week, Americans talk a lot of shit but are unwilling to step up and do the do.

 I may be a little angry.

I need a book.

I Found My Carp Caviar

I feel like an automaton. Even when I get down time there is stuff to do. Which I don't always do. So I have a pound of writing back-up in my head yet I somehow manage to subscribe to British Pathe.




Which will not explain the above video. In the videoblogging group there was a guy, I think was named Phillip. What he use to do was deconstruct old 1970ish "tactile fortified" movies.

He would alter the sound, colors aspect ratios so that it wouldn't look like the original work but it would be transformed into something else. I like abstract art and video art. So when Wreck and Salvage proposed a collection of videos around the theme of Carp Caviar it seemed like a natural to me.

I don't know why.

Well, yeah I do. We have been experiencing a food as art and food as a nurturing drug of choice. It can be entertainment like Iron Chef. It can be a competition.

And goodness knows we fetish food in advertisments.

Why not Carp Caviar?

So I squeezed out this little bundle of ... something. I'm pleased that it is just as confusing and uncomfortable to wrap a feeling around it. 

Life is not neat and tidy. We smooth it out as best we can. And we pile up on what we learn so that we take a step forward.

The Man Says Show Your Work

I have been reading a book called Show Your Work by Austin Kleon. It is a encouragement to put your fanny on the line and show what you can do. Austin implores you to not to worry if the work it is good enough or top draw just do it, do it, and make it so.




Now, I just got back from a video storytelling workshop. I know the above video is handheld choppy and the lighting is not great. It is not the greatest story in the world. That is my hyper-critical side talking.  I'll do better the next time I record a video about bringing take-out Indian food back to the hotel.

Which isn't going to happen anytime soon. So what I need to do and remember is that it is a balance of being in the moment and respecting the moment by rendering it as best you can at the time.

In hindsight, I looked at that food and the ice cream and remembered the night before when I saw my body in a full length mirror and was shocked. I'm not the person I thought I was in my head.

Some kind of deception is going on.

And yet here I am.

Did I eat all of that food at one time? No, some of it was for breakfast.  Did I enjoy eating that mango ice cream?

Yes, absolutely.

Who am I? How did I get lost and why is the road getting back so long?

Always the dad gummed questions.

The Dreamsicle Ruminations

I loved Creamsicles, not to be confused with Dreamsicles. Personally, I can swing either way. One has ice creme and the other has ice milk over a orange sherbert shell. I was reading a health magazine and pointing out to a friend that "You know, no matter what you do you are gonna die."

His response was" You have the power to determine if you die sooner or later." And barring mad men and accidents that is true.

For the record, I am not advocating eating crap foods all day and all night. Veggies are essential. Water. Cut back on the sugar in all form. Be thoughtful in meat consumption.

You can plan for tasty and health. You can have Creamsicles without the yutz. This is Erika from a Little Insanity.





But really, we are gonna die. Before I go I will have another Creamsicle or a slice of Cherry pie.

I'm not proud but I'm ain't stupid either. The point of life is to live it.

How did I come to such a decision?

I met a woman who knew she was going to die. I spent some time with her teaching her to use the Internet. Often when I visited she would have a container of Ambrosia near her bed.

One day I read the ingredients, it was filled with sugar, artificial sweeteners, gunk and imitation marshmallows.

In my head I'm thinking "This mess will kill her."

In actuality, it was one of the few foods that she could eat without bring it back up. The woman did die but not from the pseudo Ambrosia.

Still, I'd be willing to list it as a minor contributing factor.

On a hot day with the sun beating down and life if good I see nothing wrong with my tongue and lips wrapped around the popsicle of my choice. Now some days that will be a 100% fruit ice bar. Or it could be shaved ice with some flavor on it.

One day I hope I could be that person that can take eat an olive and be completely satisfied. Behold, it would be enough and I would be in a state of grace.

Except that I am not that person and will never be that person. Ice on the tongue. The smile of lemon blossoms in the air. The patterns of clouds in the sky. Sucking on some sherbert.

Maybe it is how and what we decide to consume. I will give it more thought.

Memories Eating Below the Line

This past week there has been various folks participating in a campaign called Live Below the Line to bring awareness to living on $1.50 a day.

The goal is to experience what it is like to ration your money to buy food. Not good food, not healthy food.

Just food. 

I feel somewhat detached. Now anything that will help a child get near nutrition needs is okay with me. It is just that...well, I remember being a kid in that situation.

And because I remember I don't think the people trying to live on $1.50 a day for five days really get what is going on. What a life can be like and what decisions go into your head when you don't have enough to make it from one meal to the next.

Yes, it is one thing to say you are spending $1.50 a day when you have shelves full of spices, seasonings and pantry food.

If folks really took it seriously then when they went to the store they would find out about limited choices. Nutrition is not one of them. You can't do $1.50 at Whole Foods; well maybe if you are feeding yourself and you buy an eight of an ounce of beans and a quarter-pound of rice.

Nope, you need to go to the broke folks food store and work the numbers. They are not in your favor.

Childhood Eating Memories

As a kid I've eaten dinner when there was nothing in the house to but a half box of oatmeal and hot water going on day three of it.

Or rushing to nab the hot dog and a portion of a can of beans before one of your brothers snatches an extra one for himself. No time for slackers at a limited food table.

How about when you are handed a $5 bill and you are a told to go to the supermarket to get something for dinner for six people and you are expected to bring change back home. I had a lot of experience with that scenario. 

For the record, I usually stuck with the cheapest pasta and imitation Ragu type tomato sauce I could buy.

Or it could have been a loaf of bread and ground beef. With some of the butchers in the old neighborhood there wasn't that much beef in it. Plenty of gizzards though.

Notice I didn't mention veggies or organic choices or unprocessed meats. They were not affordable options. Potatoes if they were on sale; maybe.

It Isn't Just About The Food. 

It is also watching television and seeing all this food you do not have access to. It is being reminded that you don't have the right to a whole range of foods, taste and experiences. 

It is watching Julia Child on television and watching her make a wonderful meal and not connecting to the reality that some people really do eat that well.

I'm glad I watched her show because it inspired me to want to taste new things. Yet there was a disconnect. I remember being that kid biting into a chicken bone to get at the marrow (chicken use to have marrow in their bones back then) while she was making Coq au Vin.

I and many other kids had no breakfast.  Or it might be that lunch was the meal of the day. Depended on how the day went for the parents; if there was day work, temp work or any kind of work. 

It isn't about the food as much as it is about infrastructure and what do we expect grown people to do when they can't be crowbared into programing, technology or service jobs?

How do you make a living?

How do you take care of the family if you have no money?

How do we keep pretending that we can turn a whole society back to pre-industrial wages and have no clue that we are hip deep into the future?

I don't know.

I do know I was doing a bit of disassociation when I saw tweets about the campaign. It is the kind of hunger you just don't forget. Or want to remember.

I Know What A Rutabaga Is Dang It!

I am encountering people perceiving me as less than competent when my grey hair is exposed.

That I am no spring chicken.
That I am nearing my expiration date in terms of my opinions and social relevance.
That I am out of shape and it is too late to do anything about it.
That I have instantly become daft.

I was in the supermarket. I bought rutabagas.  Not turnips.

At checkout, the young man is looking up the vegetable he can enter the right code. I tell him it is a rutabaga.

"No, it is a turnip."

"It is a rutabega," I repeat.

"No, it's a turnip."

Now I could have stood in a busy supermarket arguing the point but I have learned that there are certain things your should not fight to the end of the line.

I could have yanked his behind over to the vegetable section where someone had put a sign that said rutabegas. I could have pulled out my smartphone and spent five minutes searching for a mobile photo of a rutabega.

No, I let the boy child ring it up as he pleased.

Let the record show that I know my vegetables and I did indeed buy a yellow rutabega.

Yes, I know that in some parts of the country both items are called the same things.

Not the point.

He judged the vegetable by the purple banding.
They are not quite the same, rutabages have a very strong taste.

We judge people by the externals.

This is not right.

Long Journey From Dreamland

I've been away from my blog. I caught a wicked flu and that sucker wouldn't let me go. The concept of being sick is not easy for me. For some reason I want to do things and be productive.  This is incompatible with being sick.

This last flu had me in bed for two solid days. I had no choice but to rest and sleep. I was cooking chicken dinners for people, riding in fighter planes and my usual intergalactic adventures.

It was surreal.

I'd have these active dreams then I would wake up sneezing up a storm, coughing and what not only to fall back asleep to another adventure.

Two full days of it and it was exhausting in both realms. This is when you need a good movie to try to put the breaks the dreams but I kept falling into dreamland. There was this 1930ish movie about the future where the two lead actors were pining over wanting old fashion girls.

By the time my subconscious had wrapped itself around the movie I had taken over the planet and declared free love for all.

I'm better now. Except that once again this morning I woke up from a dream where I was serving broiled chicken on demand to friends and strangers.

I have no idea what to make of it.

Shaved Ice Cream Is a Mighty Good Thing

I wanted to walk. I got a chance at the October CicLaVia. I started in Chinatown, then past the courthouse and the new Grand Park across from City Hall.

 

At the Los Angeles Times building there were food trucks. I have learned to at least inspect them to see if it is the real deal or is somebody trying to push foo-foo food on me.

I wasn't supposed to go near those trucks in the first place. Trying to cut back on carbs and the lard of the land.

Over yonder was a truck that had something to do with shaved ice. Now I was raised a water ice girl, which is not the same thing. It is better. But I was far away from getting any rum raisin water ice anytime soon so you gotta go with the flow.

I was dehydrated. Which is why I ordered a stawberry, coconut and mango shaved ice concoction with a base of vanilla ice creme.

I ordered the small one but I got a huge ice cone of wonderment. I rested my body along side of the Times building and just slurped. It was hot, the bikes were bressing by and all was right with the world.

I walked around the corner I found a ledge I could sit on and continued to suck and slurp. I was indeed orally fixated.

There was a bike in the shape of a motorcycle. Then a  old rattly one just out of the garage. Expensive gear that must have cost a good $500 to start.

There were the sound of bikes. But it was also quiet. Peaceful.

You don't get that often in a big city. You have to work on it.

The above photo was when I was just about to break though to the ice creme level. I figured I should have something to show for my pleasure. It was small enough by that point that I could place it on the ledge to take the photo.

Shortly after the photo was taken there was nothing more to slurp. I walked and walked and walked.

It was a good day for it.

Choosing to Kick the Can

I did a lot of walking in New York City. The more I walked the more I missed home. This is a good thing because sometimes Los Angeles can get on your last nerve. You have to leave it to appreciate it. I missed the palm trees and the mountains.

Then again, you get to see things in a new light.

Once upon a time I used to drink soda like water. I know that I must have drank 10 to 15 cans a day. My mouth ran at light speed from all of the caffeine and sugar I was ingesting.

I was cranked up to maximum speed. Years later I went on a diet that totally cut out sugar. I had to go through a period of detox. Oh, my god was that tough. Headaches. Foggy thinking. Hostility.

When I got to the other side of the detox there was mental clarity. I dropped a lot of weight. My skin was perfect. I eventually slipped out of that diet but I never went back to that much soda ingestion.

Independent of the bottling company's intentions, I have a problem with any governmental body telling folks what they can and can't do with their bodies.There has to be a compelling, life threatening. and cost to society reason for the restriction of food products.

I get it. The cost of treating illness compounded with obesity issues does impact health care costs. We do eat way too much sugar, both visible and hidden. The costs are staggering.

I'm just not sure that banning the amount of consumption is the way to go about it. I have a feeling there will be 3 liter soda bottle smuggling from New Jersey.

I bring this up because here in California we have been seeing bus ads about the 22 teaspoons of sugar in a 20 ounce soda. One of the awareness web sites is the Kick The Can campaign.


There are other voices putting their two cents such as The Santa Clara County Public Health Department and Kaiser Permanente who are responsible for the video.

So what is my point? I think this has to be a personal decision and responsibility. Don't get me wrong. I do support what Mayor Bloomberg is trying to do; the health repercussion of internal obesity are serious.

Until each individual makes an informed decision about ingesting huge amounts of sugar and psuedo-sugars I don't think that you can have a long term lasting dietary change.

The money invested in ad campaigns making sure we remain un-healthy is staggering. Soda consumption advertising taps into our primal connections with community, social life and who we think we are.  Except that we are not runners, high jumpers or always walking on the beach with our loved ones.

Our desire to change must be real and committed. That has to go beyond legislation.

When folks said they didn't want high fructose corn syrup in their food products the industry changed and provided alternative non-HFCs products.  I think the same can happen when there are alternatives to super sugar drinks. I don't mean the diet stuff either.

So if you want to be healthier cut back on the sugar drinks. Or not. But don't leave it to the beverage companies or anyone else to make that decision for you. You are the one that has to live with it.

Looking down at my thighs I got some inner reflection to do as well.

Knowing Is Half the Battle and So Is Laughter

Last night I was checking the YouTube to see if there was any goodies I had missed. I glance at the right of the screen. The man was crafted skin tight. Nice looking fella but I couldn't take my eyes off of Mike's chest.

You know, on the list of things I have to develop, my chest area is not one of them.  One night you are able to sleep flat on the sheet. A week later you have bumps. That grow and grow and I really had no say in the matter.

This video is nine minutes of a man working hard for his body.



I can see his abdominal muscles. I count four but I can see the other two under his pectorals.

You know, it is a pleasure to watch a guy work out. It is not necessarily sexual. It could be if my hormones were at high tide. I'm posting it so that when my hormones flow upward again I don't have to hunt for this video. This is called being pro-active.

I'm looking at the aesthetics of him lifting up those weight.  Dude is kinda cute tho.

YouTube seems to think that I need a shape up. How they knew about my visit to my doctor is beyond me. This is like a re-enforced guilty reminder of something, I don't know what.

I do know that I will never be sleek. I have curves. I am rounded. For heath reasons I need to drop a few pounds but I am designed for puffyness.

So I am taking the pledge to eat more veggies this week. Not lettuce. Full green and orange veggies. Because I want to.

And I will walk more. 

And not let the societal pressures of having a perfect body get me down.

A Moment to Laugh Freely

We use to have fun. You know? We use to laugh freely and didn't care what anybody thought. When I look at this video I remember when I was this open and ready to laugh and just enjoy the moment.



It isn't about the erotic cookies. To me, it is about being engage in work that make you happy.

We have creaky old hypocritical men trying to dictate what we can do with our bodies. Trying to re-introduce shame. This is a video by Philip Campbell for the Montreal Gazette.


Let's not help them do that. Let's laugh in their sad faces and find joy, how ever you define it. But if you want to kick it with Roscoe Palmer that is okay by me.
No shame. A bit of peak a boo but more "oo la la".

Mainly I just wanted to share her laughter.

Lessons Part 2 - Learning That We Mirror Each Other

People are nosy. I am a people, therefore, I am nosy.

I try to control it but there are times when you just have to pay attention to other people’s business. I did not want to but I really had no choice.

Every once in a while I’ll buy a burrito from Chipotle.  I was standing in line and the person ordering before me put in her order for three burritos.

Like a drill sergeant she commanded what she wanted. Sarg wanted everything. She wanted extra of everything. Except for what she did not want.

I could see trouble coming.

When it came time to fold the burrito the laws of mass and space kicked in. The tortilla ripped a gash. Food started oozing like a scene from The Blob.

The server tried to move the heaping mass to another tortilla. Sarg became irate:

“That looks like garbage. Something you would feed a pig. I’m not a pig. Start over!”

I'm looking at Sarg.

No comment.

The food was thrown away. The server started again. Sarg told the server what she wanted extra again except for what she did not want.

I don’t know how it was possible but this time the burrito was constructed. Then the whole thing had to be done for the other two burritos she ordered.

My Turn

I was hungry. Yet a sense of culinary moderation flowed from within. I modified my order:

• Carne Asada
• No Beans
• Rice
• Corn
• Pepper/Onions
• Avocado

I bring it home and eat it. All of it. I am stuffed for the next four hours.

A few days later I watch the documentary Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead about this guy’s having a fruit and vegetable juicing fast as he interviews people across the country.



I don’t make it half way though the movie without swearing I’m gonna get a juicer.

I’ve checked out the high toned ones. They are very expensive. It will be awhile. In the meantime, I’m drinking water instead of soda and eating more veggies. Truth is, I am surrounded by temptation. And boredom. And other stuff too.  I’m stripping it away step by step.

My body agrees with making some kind of change. Sarg is still on my mind. I can’t seem to let that movie go until I do something. This is the back side of being nosy.
 
So, yeah. There are times when being silently, acutely observant of other people’s behavior is kinda sorta ok.

But not really.

Re-invention and Change - The White Hut

I needed down time. I have gotten up at 4 a.m. to write or cobble together items of interest for my blogs and others. I want to create and do things but I was force to realize that I need x amount of sleep and nutrition.

When one or both get out of balance I am not a happy camper.There is other stuff happening that I can't discuss but that life balance thing is kicking me into submission.  I got to find writing time that does not involve the pre-dawn hours.

This is a project I've been wanting to finish for chunk of time. I want to mix essays with video. This will not look that different from my other work but my goal today was to post a video.

The Whit Hut was a mom and pop restaurant in the Pasadena area. It closed in September 2011 and word has it that a new organic coffee house will be built. I'm sure that the new joint will not be serving up fat laced Pastrami on Rye. 


Part Two

I have to step back and think about what do I want to do. I want to re-claim a bit of my creative writing. I want to really get better working with video. I need a new career but I think what I want to do hasn't been invented yet so I have to pave my own path.

Not a bad idea but it can make a person nervous. Can you re-invent yourself again and again and again?

Yes. You can. It is not easy but I'd rather give it a go than to be among the walking dead.

That is not a zombie reference.

There are people that do the same thing day in and day out because it is safe. No deviation. No curiosity about what went before or what is to come. No hobbies. No vices.  No challenges. No goals.

Nothing. They live. The eat. They work. They sleep. It is enough for them.

Now if you are in any form of recovery and you aspire to this type of life go for it. I'm not talking about you. You have already lived a bit and you need routine and stability. Carry on and work your program.

For me, I want more. I want to access the untapped parts of my potential. I can't mess around, I'm coming up on another birthday in a few months and I want something to show for it.

I thought that 2011 was going to be a quiet year and that sucker did everything in its power to prove me wrong.  I might need a combat helmet for 2012.

Right now, it is a beautiful day and I have time for a nap, if I want one.

Being Myself Is Hard Work

Somebody has to do it and I guess it is up to me. But the mail that gets stuffed in my mail box is disheartening.




One ad to lose weight. Another for Dish TV. Two ads for Pollo Loco. More ads for losing weight. As near as I can figure it I'm supposed to sit at home all day watching TV and not eating anything.

This is my Day 2 video for International Videobloging Posting Month aka Vlomo2011.

Yes, There Was Chocolate

I feel like that rabbit from Alice In Wonderland. Running here, late there and mumbling to myself.

I have video but I don't have time to edit just yet. My beloved computer is one foot from the grave and I can't make a decision on the replacement. It is a very personal thing. It has to be just right.

So does chocolate and access to it. Which is why I went to the Los Angeles Luxury Chocolate Salon that was held in Pasadena.

This was the fifth salon and my second one that I have attended. So many people! Seriously. Not near enough space for the chocoholics; of which there were many.

Special shout out to all the excellent chocomakers who participated and sliced, diced and gave to the teeming masses of humanity that flowed by their tables.

I'll have more later but I'm still in recovery from that most excellent choco-chilli morsel that lit up my mouth with a living incarnation of the pleasure/pain principle.

In the meantime, if you want to see some of the folks that presented at the festivities you can catch a glimpse at Chocolate Television on Hulu.

I'm Still Here Thinking That You're Not Gone

Yep. I didn't make the cut. Apparently nobody else did either so I'm kinda sad about that. Really.

There was a whole bunch of people I had hoped that would be removed from the planet in a holding place until it could be explained to them that the concept of Agape or universal love was the goal and not the ranking of "I'm more holy than you."

Come to think of it, if members of that noxious Westboro Baptist Church gets to go to heaven then I don't think I want to go.

Speaking of not going, this is a video I recorded with Rick Hodge who has a book called 2011 Our Destiny Has Arrived.



Folks, no worries until December 12, 2012. That is 12/12/12 aka the Age of the Fifth Sun.

Part 2

I heard a son call his father to check in on him.

"You still here Pop?, yeah, me too."

I think the rest of us want to say that you can't escape life through false prophets who profit on fear. Spirit doesn't operate that way.

Even if you are an Atheist one thing is clear, either you live your life or your don't. It is a choice and praying for your spiritual removal en mass I think violates that freedom of spiritual choice thing.

In other words, I don't think you can make Spirit/God/Jesus do anything. And if we could why would we so willing to commission other people's souls to damnation? Why would you follow a being that tells you to do that?

Last word on the (non) rapture. A special shout out has got to the RaptureHelpDesk. Best dang use of Twitter for humor that I have ever seen. I look forward to October 21, 2011 cuz it is going to be hard to top these tweets. Cracked me up.

Part 3

Yesterday I paid $4.50 for maybe a scoop and a half of Gelato. It was Stratachoco... something but it was good. Dark chocolate laced into vanilla ice cream. This is counter to my normally frugal ways but I had seen the store for years and never went inside.

I liked it.

I am going to try to make it another eight years before I go back to that place. I will not pay $5 for a gallon of ice cream but I have to admit this stuff was tasty.

I should get around to making my bucket list so I can put luxury ice cream on it and then cross it off.

Well, this is just to check in. I'm trying to write another post, edit video, do laundry and possibly dye my hair. I guess this is justifiable procrastination. So much to do and see.

Not enough time.

Never enough time.