My family loves gags, practical jokes, etc. Since we spent this Christmas with my CaliFamily, and I found a timely recipe for fortune cookies, I thought it appropriate to make some "misfortune cookies" for them.
Unfortunately the cookie recipe ended up bland. (British book -- there ya go.) But I had fun coming up with fortunes such as
You will lose 10 pounds overnight.
Good fortune will find you in 2004. (of course, too late)
This cookie was inspected by Homeland Security.
I am Fortune W. Cookie, and I approve this message.
Y'know, silly things like that. I think I had 12 total. Additionally, I had some paste food coloring (which may have altered the taste as well, but I couldn't find dry food color) and dyed half bright red and half bright green.
Some of my family really got into them. Unfortunately there were a few who were caught up in other things and didn't seem to pay attention. But, the few people I had breaking open cookie after cookie -- not to eat, mind you, but to read the fortune -- made it worth it.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
robbery/beating on the street where I grew up
They say you can never go home. That's never been truer than it was today.
I'm visiting family for the holidays in Newark, CA. Bruce had stayed home, while my mom and I went out for a bit more Christmas shopping. We were about to make the left turn onto my mom's street when... a guy had stopped his car in the middle of the intersection, his door open, his hand in the air, shouting, "Call the police!"
He just stood there, saying nothing else, so we figured he wasn't all there. My mom drove around him and down a few driveways to her house. Meanwhile, two teenage-looking kids ran down to the end of the street. I thought nothing of it.
When we pulled in the driveway and got out of the car, the guy told us a bit more. An elderly woman had been walking down the cross street; the girl (running down the street) had punched the woman and the pair stole her purse. They dropped the purse having run most of the way down the street, but the poor woman had fallen to the ground, scraping up her hands, face, and legs.
My mom called the police and took a wet rag out to comfort and clean up the woman. Within seconds, the police had arrived. (Must say, I'm impressed with their response time.) We all did our best to describe the situation -- but to my horror, the guy who told us to call, in the first place, had already left. Wouldn't he have been the best witness?
Meanwhile, neighbors gathered around to show their support. Two or more police cars were parked where the purse had been found (minus $60, but otherwise intact), which was across the street from my mom's house and in front of my aunt and uncle's house. (During this time, said aunt and uncle pulled into the driveway, probably wondering at the police gathering in front of the house...)
As things went, I ended up being the primary witness other than the woman herself. I didn't even see the kids from the front -- only from 20-30 feet away. I felt helpless, wishing I could add more to their description. Still, the officer was appreciative.
But what really got me was something she said: "Sounds like the usual suspects."
???? When did such suspects start entering my hometown? Sure, it was never wealthy or high-class, but it was a community of people who got along and cared for each other. Now, it's filled with hate crimes against various ethnic groups, silly petty theft, and communities against one another.
Back in the '70's, I could go into any business in the city of Newark, and my family was known: "My daughter was in your mom's 1st grade class" or "You're H's granddaughter, aren't you?" Newark, you've come a long way -- you're no longer a bunch of neighbors caring for each other. If there were only a way to nip the crime in the bud.
And therefore, I can never truly go back home, because my home no longer exists.
I'm visiting family for the holidays in Newark, CA. Bruce had stayed home, while my mom and I went out for a bit more Christmas shopping. We were about to make the left turn onto my mom's street when... a guy had stopped his car in the middle of the intersection, his door open, his hand in the air, shouting, "Call the police!"
He just stood there, saying nothing else, so we figured he wasn't all there. My mom drove around him and down a few driveways to her house. Meanwhile, two teenage-looking kids ran down to the end of the street. I thought nothing of it.
When we pulled in the driveway and got out of the car, the guy told us a bit more. An elderly woman had been walking down the cross street; the girl (running down the street) had punched the woman and the pair stole her purse. They dropped the purse having run most of the way down the street, but the poor woman had fallen to the ground, scraping up her hands, face, and legs.
My mom called the police and took a wet rag out to comfort and clean up the woman. Within seconds, the police had arrived. (Must say, I'm impressed with their response time.) We all did our best to describe the situation -- but to my horror, the guy who told us to call, in the first place, had already left. Wouldn't he have been the best witness?
Meanwhile, neighbors gathered around to show their support. Two or more police cars were parked where the purse had been found (minus $60, but otherwise intact), which was across the street from my mom's house and in front of my aunt and uncle's house. (During this time, said aunt and uncle pulled into the driveway, probably wondering at the police gathering in front of the house...)
As things went, I ended up being the primary witness other than the woman herself. I didn't even see the kids from the front -- only from 20-30 feet away. I felt helpless, wishing I could add more to their description. Still, the officer was appreciative.
But what really got me was something she said: "Sounds like the usual suspects."
???? When did such suspects start entering my hometown? Sure, it was never wealthy or high-class, but it was a community of people who got along and cared for each other. Now, it's filled with hate crimes against various ethnic groups, silly petty theft, and communities against one another.
Back in the '70's, I could go into any business in the city of Newark, and my family was known: "My daughter was in your mom's 1st grade class" or "You're H's granddaughter, aren't you?" Newark, you've come a long way -- you're no longer a bunch of neighbors caring for each other. If there were only a way to nip the crime in the bud.
And therefore, I can never truly go back home, because my home no longer exists.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
'round midnight
Funny story my mom related to me.
She has a black cat named Midnight. He's quite the talker.
One day, my mom was working out in the yard, and Midnight was in the house by himself. Apparently... her friend Cathy called. Well, Midnight somehow was able to brush by the phone, knocking over the receiver. Cathy said, "Hello?" and Midnight merrowed back. This went back and forth a few times until Cathy finally gave up. Of course, my mom didn't find out until later told by Cathy...
So there you have it... cats really do talk on the phone.
She has a black cat named Midnight. He's quite the talker.
One day, my mom was working out in the yard, and Midnight was in the house by himself. Apparently... her friend Cathy called. Well, Midnight somehow was able to brush by the phone, knocking over the receiver. Cathy said, "Hello?" and Midnight merrowed back. This went back and forth a few times until Cathy finally gave up. Of course, my mom didn't find out until later told by Cathy...
So there you have it... cats really do talk on the phone.
Monday, December 19, 2005
apprentice redux
For the first time in my life, I was compelled to contact someone from a reality TV show.
Crazy, huh? Well, Bruce and I are certifiable Apprentice junkies. We've learned a lot about group dynamics watching the show... expetcing impending train wrecks... contrasting the maverick Trump (whom we both admire) with the overly cautious Martha (of whom we now have a lesser opinion). Most people watch for the cat fights. We watch to figure out how they could be avoided.
While Trump's candidates, this season, were mostly great picks, there was much dysfunctionality on the Martha show. So many women seemingly fraid of confrontation (not that I'm the best with it myself, but it's something you gotta ge tused to in business). No one was a stand-out candidate, the whole time I watched the show.
But Jim grew on me. Quickly. Everyone hated him as the loud-mouth, the egoist. I have no idea why TWoP and others called him Hateful Jim -- I didn't see the hate! Me, I saw raw talent. I saw drive. I saw someone who has tons of creative ideas whom I'd love to work with. In the end, the MSLO people got tired of his treating the show as a "game" -- that business is not a "game". Like hell, it's not! Conversely, a company must always strategize about getting customers on board with them, and not with the competitor.
In the end, Jim was third to last fired on the show, leaving behind two women whom I'm sure are great employees, but I'm not sure they're leadership material. One of them seems to be focused on small tasks and forgetting about the big picture (and leaving some of the details to fall behind if need be, to get the whole event working). The other one seems less creative and not dynamic enough. Yet this is who Martha wants to work for her. Cryin' shame, if you ask me.
And this is why, for the first time in my life, I had to Google someone to send them a note of support. I found Jim's website and emailed him (and got a response today!). What compelled me was that everyone -- and I mean, everyone, from Apprentice message boards, to chats with my personal friends, to TWoP -- had nothing but negativity to say about him. Jim seems like a strong guy, and this would probably roll right off his back; but I thought... can't hurt. After all, why pass on an opportunity to form a potential new relationship? He was very appreciative. Too bad he lives 2500 miles away... I'd much rather work for him than any of the schmucks I've sold my soul to over the past 10 years.
Crazy, huh? Well, Bruce and I are certifiable Apprentice junkies. We've learned a lot about group dynamics watching the show... expetcing impending train wrecks... contrasting the maverick Trump (whom we both admire) with the overly cautious Martha (of whom we now have a lesser opinion). Most people watch for the cat fights. We watch to figure out how they could be avoided.
While Trump's candidates, this season, were mostly great picks, there was much dysfunctionality on the Martha show. So many women seemingly fraid of confrontation (not that I'm the best with it myself, but it's something you gotta ge tused to in business). No one was a stand-out candidate, the whole time I watched the show.
But Jim grew on me. Quickly. Everyone hated him as the loud-mouth, the egoist. I have no idea why TWoP and others called him Hateful Jim -- I didn't see the hate! Me, I saw raw talent. I saw drive. I saw someone who has tons of creative ideas whom I'd love to work with. In the end, the MSLO people got tired of his treating the show as a "game" -- that business is not a "game". Like hell, it's not! Conversely, a company must always strategize about getting customers on board with them, and not with the competitor.
In the end, Jim was third to last fired on the show, leaving behind two women whom I'm sure are great employees, but I'm not sure they're leadership material. One of them seems to be focused on small tasks and forgetting about the big picture (and leaving some of the details to fall behind if need be, to get the whole event working). The other one seems less creative and not dynamic enough. Yet this is who Martha wants to work for her. Cryin' shame, if you ask me.
And this is why, for the first time in my life, I had to Google someone to send them a note of support. I found Jim's website and emailed him (and got a response today!). What compelled me was that everyone -- and I mean, everyone, from Apprentice message boards, to chats with my personal friends, to TWoP -- had nothing but negativity to say about him. Jim seems like a strong guy, and this would probably roll right off his back; but I thought... can't hurt. After all, why pass on an opportunity to form a potential new relationship? He was very appreciative. Too bad he lives 2500 miles away... I'd much rather work for him than any of the schmucks I've sold my soul to over the past 10 years.
Friday, December 16, 2005
garage band
Here I am in Cali, at my mom's house. I'm playing with her new Mac G5 -- namely, Garage Band. I'm having fuuuunnnn. :D
The first set of tracks I made: I recorded myself singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat -- then copied and pasted twice so I'd be a round. Then, behind that, I added a funk drum riff and a funk horn section.
I've listened to this far too many times. However, I need an 1/8 in RCA adapter to plug in my mic. Hopefully will get that soon.
The first set of tracks I made: I recorded myself singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat -- then copied and pasted twice so I'd be a round. Then, behind that, I added a funk drum riff and a funk horn section.
I've listened to this far too many times. However, I need an 1/8 in RCA adapter to plug in my mic. Hopefully will get that soon.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
midway through the southwest
RIP, perfect record. Until today, Southwest Airlines had a record of no deaths in any accident. Today, a child on the ground was killed.
The irony being... three months ago, I flew into Midway Airport on Southwest. While there was no snow, there was torrential rain. The turbulence coming in was horrible. We circled many times, waiting for the runway to open. I was a bit nervous.
Then, we flew over the airport, and I saw the runway. That tiny thing? I got more nervous.
We then came in for the approach. SLAM! and the brakes went on, hard. We made it to the gate unscathed, but again, I was a bit shaky.
Afterward, we learned that at Midway, the planes pretty much have to be slammed down and brought to a screeching halt, given the small airport size. I was also surprised, riding out of the airport on a cab, that less than a block away, there were residences, businesses... nothing that you'd typically see right up against an airport -- which, I'm sure, contributed to today's accident.
When we landed at Midway, I had no desire to land there again. Now... I really don't want to go to Midway. Some airports (perhaps prior to the jet era) are becoming outdated...
The irony being... three months ago, I flew into Midway Airport on Southwest. While there was no snow, there was torrential rain. The turbulence coming in was horrible. We circled many times, waiting for the runway to open. I was a bit nervous.
Then, we flew over the airport, and I saw the runway. That tiny thing? I got more nervous.
We then came in for the approach. SLAM! and the brakes went on, hard. We made it to the gate unscathed, but again, I was a bit shaky.
Afterward, we learned that at Midway, the planes pretty much have to be slammed down and brought to a screeching halt, given the small airport size. I was also surprised, riding out of the airport on a cab, that less than a block away, there were residences, businesses... nothing that you'd typically see right up against an airport -- which, I'm sure, contributed to today's accident.
When we landed at Midway, I had no desire to land there again. Now... I really don't want to go to Midway. Some airports (perhaps prior to the jet era) are becoming outdated...
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
shaken, not stirred
My new favorite frou-frou dessert drink:
Mix a standard kahlua'n'cream over ice. Add one shot butterscotch schnapps. Shake and serve in a martini glass. (nice little frothy frothy on top.)
Kind of... mocha roca.
Mix a standard kahlua'n'cream over ice. Add one shot butterscotch schnapps. Shake and serve in a martini glass. (nice little frothy frothy on top.)
Kind of... mocha roca.
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