June 2 – national cancer survivor day
Posted: June 2, 2015 Filed under: cancer | Tags: cancer, live long and prosper, national cancer survivor's day 29 CommentsI just saw that today is national cancer survivor day. Not exactly a club anyone would choose to join, but once cancer drafts you, membership is OK. I’m still here, so that’s good. Hard to believe it was three and 1/2 years ago that I went under the knife.
In the words of Mr Spock… Live long and prosper. I plan to.
movies and biking and hotdogs
Posted: May 25, 2015 Filed under: cycling, food, travel | Tags: cycling, Erie Lackawana trail, Monon trail, root beer, travel 15 CommentsI was going to call this post “A hotdog and a movie” … but that might be misconstrued as self referencing…
First the movie: Mr Pip with Hugh Laurie. If you love the great books and Dickens in particular, then this story of a small Island caught between the Soldiers and the rebels in a revolution – and the impact that story can have is brilliantly done. The location is exotic and the flashbacks to Pip’s England with an island flair are magic. The lesson is honorable as well, in that moment of choice – who do we choose to be. I just had to tell someone.
If you drive an hour or so out of Chicagoland into Indiana you can find the Erie Lackawana bike path. It’s a pleasant well maintained rails to trails kind of path. You can link it with the Monon trail which has a more urban feel and loop it in to get a nice 50 or so miles. This sign near the trail seemed to show the perfect business… 24 hour laundromat, milk-shakes and hot-dogs. Maybe Indiana is cycling heaven…
Have I fainted in the heat and awakened in cycling heaven ? Well, Indiana anyway.
For our lunch, we had a hot dog and a root-beer float ( generic root-beer ) but hunger is the best sauce….
a taste of Paris in Philly – food
Posted: May 20, 2015 Filed under: food, Philadelphia, travel | Tags: food, Parc Restaurant, philadelphia, travel 12 CommentsAn art opening requires a celebration, and after the opening we had a nice brunch at Parc. On a nice day you can sit outside and gaze across to Ritenhouse Park where college girls in sundresses walk by, or you might see a woman saunter by with black and white poodles, a perfect fashion accessory. The day was perfect, and Parc is a fine place to have a brunch.
While you look at the menu, the pastry basket is a wonderful start…
a pastry sampler – croissant, chocolate croissant, madeline, lemon curd and wonderful butter and raspberry jam
And then of course the champagne arrives, a rose since it’s warm outside
when it’s warm – rose is often just the right way to enjoy bubbles…
Next, the pate…. this was called “Chicken Liver Parfait” it came with a grain bread which was heavenly – it gave texture to the pate and the thin layer of rasberry on top of it. This was rich… a bit of pate.. a sip of champagne… a smile at the sun or the passers by…. This choice was a risk, but you know what they say about risk and reward…
pate with bread, mustard, and pickled onion….
And then “Eggs Norwegian” – a twist on Eggs Benedict – replacing the ham with smoked salmon. The fried potatoes were perfect – this meal required no seasoning… every flavor complemented the other
Perfectly poached – the salmon, egg yolk, muffin and sauce were perfect
I thought Parc was a small place, but inside it was bustling – I will absolutely dine here once again. And… how can I not like a restaurant with this wallpaper in the men’s room…
Now that’s a French men’s room decorum.
nothing like an art show PAFA
Posted: May 17, 2015 Filed under: art | Tags: art, pafa, philadelphia, Philadelphia academy of fine arts 28 CommentsThere’s nothing like an art show, a gala event – especially when your favorite youngest daughter has her first wall in the show…
a beautiful artist…
a proud father by a tapestry. Art is the voice of the artist made real.
Soon… the wonderful celebration brunch in downtown Philly.
heroin – the deadly seduction
Posted: May 4, 2015 Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: drug addiction, Heroin in the suburbs, loss, sorrow 29 CommentsI know a young couple who live under a bridge. It sounds a bit like a fairy tale, but it not. It’s tragic. They’re both hooked on heroin and she’s pregnant. No matter what anyone does to help, the siren call is too strong. Hard to believe it’s a problem in the affluent community in which we rent.
Jan and I went to a presentation and the policeman said that now drug deaths outnumber gun deaths. He showed us some pictures of OD victims, the drug shuts down the signalling that tells the body to breathe and the lungs fill with a brown mucus fluid that is oozing from the nostrils when the body is found. Pretty horrible sounding isn’t it, but the police say that when they administer the nasal injection to counteract the heroin opiate often the drug user is angry that their high was ruined.
I was surprised by the “corporateness” of the problem. The cartel ships to Chicago, the supply-chain uses gangs to deliver and sell. Often people start on prescription pain killers which are costly and then dealers use the marketing bait and switch. Try this, its less expensive or dealers tell the users it’s a new designer drug. Anything to get the product used and keep the revenue stream moving, and the user hooked.
What can parents do ? Get unused prescription meds out of the house as soon as possible. Be in touch with their kids. If the kid’s behavior changes or their friends change don’t be afraid to drug test. Some of the new tests can detect up to five different drugs and give the results in about seven minutes. If the kid passes, reward them. If they fail, you know what you’re facing. If you find pills in their possession, use an online app to identify them. Information is important.
Testing also gives the kids a face-saving out. When their friends ask them to try something the child can say “No, my parents test.” One of the mothers who spoke said “He told me he just used a little weed.” She came into his room one morning and found him dead.
Early intervention is important. One constant was that despite their sorrow, many families say “At least it’s over”. The relief, the sorrow combine as the siren song ends for everyone that heroin has touched.
long roads – cycling
Posted: April 25, 2015 Filed under: cycling, food, travel, wisconsin | Tags: beer, cycling, long roads, new glarus, poem, poetry, wisconsin 26 CommentsWisconsin has a rolling heart of the country beauty. Living near the city we often forget how wide and bountiful the US is. Although on climbs there is often only one thought in mind, the next pedal stroke, I find cycling a good place to work on poems. It can be a solitary moving meditation, a place to pray.
Chris coming up a long hill
After three days on the road, a stay at a legendary bad motel “Ikes”, and a thirty mile stretch of rolling hills, a glass of New Glarus Old Milwaukee Belgian Red hits the spot. Hunger may be the best sauce, but this Lambic like brew which tasted of cherries is the single best beer I have known.
Near the Fox River’s gentle boundaries
Daffodils peek forth amongst the trees
Iridescent in winter’s defiance
As I and spring silently passed them by
I did not stop and tarry there
Though in Summer heat they’ll wane and fade
And yes, I loved their beauty dearly
But had places to be and promises already made
cycling back into time – rootbeer
Posted: April 21, 2015 Filed under: Chicago, cycling, food, travel | Tags: cycling, dognsuds, fox river bike path, rootbeer 20 CommentsIf you start in Naperville Illinois at the crack of dawn and head toward the Fox River bike path, you’ll catch the mist rising above the ponds. Then Northward bound along the mighty Fox river the daffodils burst into sight and the frog princes croak their song of undying love to all the frog maidens as you silently pedal by.
Up near the Wisconsin border in Richmond after sixty miles or so along the path you’ll find a small fast-food joint still attended to by pretty teens who’ll take your order and bring you a hot-dog or a rootbeer and a smile. It was a long day riding, about 73 miles total and I hadn’t seen a Dog N Suds since the 1970’s. We pulled our weary seats in and enjoyed a root-beer as celebration of a day well done.
It was 1973 she was sixteen, I was seventeen and her first real job was car-hop and the local Dog N Suds. That year root-beer was the taste and flavor of youthful romance. She brought the root-beer out in a frosted mug ( just like the old days ) and it was lightly carbonated, slightly sweet with just a hint of licorice, just as good as I remembered. I told the story to our server, did we look so young at sixteen too, and she smiled and told me there were only a handful of franchises left in the whole country, a place of distant memories and tastes.
a sip of tastes from the past
premium popcorn – food
Posted: April 12, 2015 Filed under: food | Tags: Fleur de Sel de Camargue, grubb's farm, iowa, popcorn, premium popcorn 28 CommentsWe’re a popcorn family. Popped up in the microwave with a little melted butter and salt added, eaten with chopsticks ( the kids discovered this to keep from getting their fingers greasy and it’s become a family tradition ) popcorn is the perfect movie food for at home while we sprawl across the couch or lounge in the recliner chair.
But can popcorn be gourmet ? Can you get popcorn non GMO grown from a family farm? Will it taste better ? The answer is a resounding yes.
GMO free popcorn from a family farm in Iowa.
It pops up with a crisp fresh flavor, and the butter and salt burst on your tongue. Alas, it’s chopstickability is the same as regular popcorn, but for those of us without greasy fingers – we just say it lasts longer. We tried butterfly ( which pops with a little hull ) and mushroon ( which doesn’t taste like mushroom, but pops into a bigger, rounder form ) I think either will delight.
You can find this popcorn, grown in the beautiful state of Iowa here: http://www.grubbpopcorn.com/ It’s a special treat to go direct to the family farmer.
Happy popping, maybe next time I can convince my wife to use salt from the Camargue ( Fleur de Sel de Camargue ) we just can’t tell my youngest who happened to visit the salt marshes in France where this salt is harvested. “Dad”, she said – “You know what flamingo’s do in the marshes.”
spring – the time of love and new cars
Posted: March 20, 2015 Filed under: history | Tags: first new car, love and new cars, my history, rugby trips, spring, toyota corolla 68 CommentsIt’s spring, when thoughts turn to love and cars. Fondly I recall my first new car, a 1974 Toyota Corolla. I was so green I didn’t know you could negotiate the cost so I paid the full sticker price. I went in to pick it up tried to haggle with the salesman and he said, “You can’t do that.”
“Oh, OK” What did I know about the world?
Imagine $4,300.00 for a new car. It thrilled to drive it off the lot and if I lurched about trying to learn to drive a stick, that excited too.
It was the perfect car to drive about the Midwest for rugby matches, including the Ohio Under 23 select side match against Michigan. I drove with “Moose” and we won the game, on the
way home my mileage was way down and I was sure my car new car was failing. Imagine my relief when I discovered Moose’s bulk cost me six miles per gallon.
Now I dream of a Toyota Land Cruiser and a Corvette, but somehow I don’t think they’ll thrill like a Grey Toyota with a motor smaller than Harley Hog.
I’d love to hear about your first car.
We had such good comments, that I invite you to share a picture if you have it…
First car love from Diana
at https://talktodiana.wordpress.com/
an afternoon on the Pigalle – YARS
Posted: March 4, 2015 Filed under: travel | Tags: can can, France, pigalle, yars 29 CommentsIn 1982 I was in Paris with two friends for a couple days, a side trip from rugby tour in England. We saw the Jeu De Paume, the Louvre and napped in the Tuileries near an organ grinder with his monkey. The last afternoon we went through the Pigalle, the red-light district and home of some famous theatres and galleries. Even then it was much as you might expect – though sunlight reveals much that evening hides.
As we walked along, there were hawkers, like at a traveling carnival – bellowing out at every entrance, enticing us in – though we didn’t speak the language, we understood the terms. In front of one – three rough looking men saw us and exclaiming “show, show” rushed us in.
It was an old theatre, once grand, now showing wear and tear of time – and they sat us down and offered us drinks. As they went off, we realized our risk – alone in the old theatre – we quickly drew straws to see who’d drink first in case the drinks were drugged, and planned a mad dash out in case this was a robbery or worse – but the beer was just beer – and they guys kept saying – show, wait, drink – and we’d already paid.
After a while, an older lady, probably the cleaning crew hustled past us toward the stage, and then the lights went on, and the music began and the curtain opened and there was our cleaning lady, in a bright red corset and heels dancing a can-can for us.
We gave her a standing ovation, and at the end we left, poorer, entertained and wiser.
YARS – Yet Another Rugby Story
bwthoughts 