Every day, I have the opportunity to walk across a small college campus to my workplace. It is a lovely campus, layed out around a long mall, lined with big hardwood trees and nicely landscaped, the flowers changed seasonally and the wide expanses of grass kept neatly mowed.
During class change, the area is alive with students, heading back to their dorms or over to get something to eat, or to wherever college students go between and after class gets out.
I remember my college days on campus, greeting friends, playing frizbee, hanging out, laughing and talking, meeting new people, experiencing so many exciting and new events. It seems to be fairly similar, and not much has changed over the years, except for one phenomenom that I have noticed: these days, most kids walk across campus with their heads down, both hands on their cell phone or ipod, completely focused on whatever hand held device they happen to be using at that moment, completely missing whatever is going on around them in the world outside that small, amazing technological piece of plastic. Their ears are plugged up with earphones and those wondrous cries of the cardinals go completely unnoticed.
Of course, not all students are using electronic devises as they walk across campus, but recently I decided to just pay attention, see how many actually are walking around, heads down, rapidly pushing the tiny buttons in this new form of communication, and I was amazed at how many there were: some walking in groups but without any interaction with the people they were actually walking with, many solo, not looking up at all, shoulders hunched over, complete focus on the tiny screen of the new language of texting.
I walk by many students that I know, without any smile or greeting or realization that I walked by them. Sometimes, when they are in the line for food, I mistakenly think they are talking to me and respond, only to realize that they are talking with someone in some other location, and feel rather silly at the realization of this.
One young womann I work with came to work one day with her Ipod securely lashed to her belt, earphones securely plugged into her ears. I greeted her, but she did not hear me. I had to tap her shoulder and I politely asked her to remove her Ipod while she was at work. She smiled at me, but it was clear that she had no idea what I had just said. When she finally did remove the earphones, she seemed miffed that I asked her to remove her Ipod while at work. "I can hear you just fine", she said, and refused to turn off the device, replacing the one earphone that she had grudgingly removed to have a conversation with me. She turned her back and went on listening to the music that even I could hear faintly from a few feet away.
What type of world is being created here? A virtual world where nothing is real, where the natural environment can be tuned out forever? How can we hear the voice of God if our ears are plugged with earphones and the music is so loud?
Will the songs of the birds cease to exist if there is no one to listen to them?
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Rain Creek
Sitting by Rain Creek this morning, I was struck by many things. It was so quiet, except for the sounds of the myriad of birds and the occasional splash in the water of an aquatic creature. I thought, this is how it sounded before there were any motors, the sound of the day was this...... it seemed strange to think of a world where the only sounds were natural, no man made motors or TV or cell phone or anything, except the sounds of the natural environment.
Then I noticed that as far as the eye could see, there were no power cables or poles, only the marshland and the trees and the grasses and clouds and the sky - even though this is the natural environment, it seemed so strange to not hear or see those things that have become such a part of our everyday life.
I watched a pair of small martins feed their young and take turns flying over the marsh, collecting bugs to give to their unseen babies, nestled safely in the martin box Gib has put there for them; beautiful small birds, their song so soft and subtle but complex in the range of notes, almost clicks, that they sing to each other and their young. I watched the red winged blackbirds perched on the rushes, offering their loud and distinctive cry, scattering the seed of the velvety brown plants as they take off and light, heading back and forth to the unseen feeders that I know are by the house and that I have been watching them frequent.
I watched for the ripples of the unseen aquatic creatures as they spashed at the surface of the marsh, most times the result of the water disturbance being absorbed quickly by the water lillies and therefore, going unseen by me.
I watched a hawk soar overhead but fly beyond my site line, no doubt to a field where the prey could be more easily seen and captured.
I saw butterfies fly their lilting flight among the tall grasses and and down into the fern covered bottomland and flies, misquitoes, beetles and water bugs making their way in their protected habitat.
I thought about how beautiful this all looks but with the knowledge that Rain Creek is polluted, as are probably each and every body of water on our planet.
I sat there for quite some time before the first plane went over and I was brought back to the world of the internal combustion engine, the industrial world that is the downfall of all things natural, and possibly, no probably, the downfall of everything.
But for now, I shall enjoy the beauty that is Rain Creek, and continue to try to come to terms with something that seems so totally beyond my control or the control of anyone who would take action against that which is killing us. Because beyond changing the thinking of the industrialized civilization's power brokers, there IS nothing we can do.
I hope my grandchildren are getting to see what is left of our natural world; I hope their parents see the urgency in allowing them to reallize the sacred beauty and connection of everything living, for the future will certainly be one that is devoid of anything we would define as natural, and I want them to know how it was and how it could have been if we had only listened to that which we destroyed.
Then I noticed that as far as the eye could see, there were no power cables or poles, only the marshland and the trees and the grasses and clouds and the sky - even though this is the natural environment, it seemed so strange to not hear or see those things that have become such a part of our everyday life.
I watched a pair of small martins feed their young and take turns flying over the marsh, collecting bugs to give to their unseen babies, nestled safely in the martin box Gib has put there for them; beautiful small birds, their song so soft and subtle but complex in the range of notes, almost clicks, that they sing to each other and their young. I watched the red winged blackbirds perched on the rushes, offering their loud and distinctive cry, scattering the seed of the velvety brown plants as they take off and light, heading back and forth to the unseen feeders that I know are by the house and that I have been watching them frequent.
I watched for the ripples of the unseen aquatic creatures as they spashed at the surface of the marsh, most times the result of the water disturbance being absorbed quickly by the water lillies and therefore, going unseen by me.
I watched a hawk soar overhead but fly beyond my site line, no doubt to a field where the prey could be more easily seen and captured.
I saw butterfies fly their lilting flight among the tall grasses and and down into the fern covered bottomland and flies, misquitoes, beetles and water bugs making their way in their protected habitat.
I thought about how beautiful this all looks but with the knowledge that Rain Creek is polluted, as are probably each and every body of water on our planet.
I sat there for quite some time before the first plane went over and I was brought back to the world of the internal combustion engine, the industrial world that is the downfall of all things natural, and possibly, no probably, the downfall of everything.
But for now, I shall enjoy the beauty that is Rain Creek, and continue to try to come to terms with something that seems so totally beyond my control or the control of anyone who would take action against that which is killing us. Because beyond changing the thinking of the industrialized civilization's power brokers, there IS nothing we can do.
I hope my grandchildren are getting to see what is left of our natural world; I hope their parents see the urgency in allowing them to reallize the sacred beauty and connection of everything living, for the future will certainly be one that is devoid of anything we would define as natural, and I want them to know how it was and how it could have been if we had only listened to that which we destroyed.
The Space Tour
The tour ship slowed so the passengers could get a good look at what the guide was pointing out.
"On the left, out the window, you can see barely see Earth, which is now surrounded by a layer of orbital debris. Although many of you may not realize this, Earth was once a beautiful planet, in fact, they say, this is where we came from. Hard to believe that the garbage planet was once our home.
"Once a vibrant, living planet, where humans and other creatures, such as birds, land animals, and water creatures lived, it has become the waste dump for many space communities. If you can find an old hologram of what Earth used to look like, you might find it hard to believe that this once beautiful planet was taken down in a short period of time by a civilization created by the humans that once lived there.
"This particular civilization actually believed at one time that the planet was theirs to use up and in a very short sighted period of time, our fore bearers completely destroyed their own habitat and took all the other living creatures down with them. After completely depleting their food, water, and air resources, a small colony of humans was able to escape and founded the ancient colony they called "Hope". As we know from our history - were you paying attention? - these humans suffered many hardships and were ostracized for the behavior that they had exhibited on their own planet.
"Made to design systems for survival that were sustainable, the humans were taxed beyond the realm of their own knowledge but a few survived and were allowed to start their own community under the watchful eye of the Keepers of Life. Gradually changing into creatures who were much more like us today, they learned how to live in harmony with every other living creature in their new homeland and their colony flourished to become one of the most beautiful, harmonious communities in the planetary system.
"You can visit their community, which still exists today, on the tour called "Believe".
"And now, out the right viewing area..............."
"On the left, out the window, you can see barely see Earth, which is now surrounded by a layer of orbital debris. Although many of you may not realize this, Earth was once a beautiful planet, in fact, they say, this is where we came from. Hard to believe that the garbage planet was once our home.
"Once a vibrant, living planet, where humans and other creatures, such as birds, land animals, and water creatures lived, it has become the waste dump for many space communities. If you can find an old hologram of what Earth used to look like, you might find it hard to believe that this once beautiful planet was taken down in a short period of time by a civilization created by the humans that once lived there.
"This particular civilization actually believed at one time that the planet was theirs to use up and in a very short sighted period of time, our fore bearers completely destroyed their own habitat and took all the other living creatures down with them. After completely depleting their food, water, and air resources, a small colony of humans was able to escape and founded the ancient colony they called "Hope". As we know from our history - were you paying attention? - these humans suffered many hardships and were ostracized for the behavior that they had exhibited on their own planet.
"Made to design systems for survival that were sustainable, the humans were taxed beyond the realm of their own knowledge but a few survived and were allowed to start their own community under the watchful eye of the Keepers of Life. Gradually changing into creatures who were much more like us today, they learned how to live in harmony with every other living creature in their new homeland and their colony flourished to become one of the most beautiful, harmonious communities in the planetary system.
"You can visit their community, which still exists today, on the tour called "Believe".
"And now, out the right viewing area..............."
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Hot Dog Palace
remember that guy from the Hot Dog Palace?
he came in there that day
and said, he could eat 100 hot dogs in 5 minutes?
said he would do it for nothing
just to give the Palace the free publicity.
that one poet started screaming at him
told him to shove the 100 hot dogs
right up his ass.
that was when Dwayne, the manager at the time
remember him?
grabbed that poet and told him
he was sick of his shit
and threw him out through
the open air window.
then Dwayne told the hot dog eater,
"look what you made me do"
and the hot dog eater said,
"man, I didn't make you an asshole"
I kind of forget what happened after that,
but all I know is,
in the fracas, someone stole the tip jar
and I went home without any money
and Dwayne had to close the place for a couple of days.
and the hot dog eater
ate 100 hot dogs over at the Weeney Wonkle,
but it took him 8 minutes.
he came in there that day
and said, he could eat 100 hot dogs in 5 minutes?
said he would do it for nothing
just to give the Palace the free publicity.
that one poet started screaming at him
told him to shove the 100 hot dogs
right up his ass.
that was when Dwayne, the manager at the time
remember him?
grabbed that poet and told him
he was sick of his shit
and threw him out through
the open air window.
then Dwayne told the hot dog eater,
"look what you made me do"
and the hot dog eater said,
"man, I didn't make you an asshole"
I kind of forget what happened after that,
but all I know is,
in the fracas, someone stole the tip jar
and I went home without any money
and Dwayne had to close the place for a couple of days.
and the hot dog eater
ate 100 hot dogs over at the Weeney Wonkle,
but it took him 8 minutes.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Tranquillo
More and more I realize that there are no outside influences that should affect my ability to move through life with ease and calmness, taking each new event, each moment as something that is happening for the first time ever, and seeing the wondrous miracle in that.
Would it be possible to remember this if I were severely injured, or being horribly tortured, or cold on the street somewhere with no place to sleep? Would these events even occur in my life if I came to the state of being as I described above, or would I be in a state of existence where injury, torture or homelessness did not even occur or exist? Some sort of parallel universe that we could slip into, with the same cast of characters, only operating and living in an existence that we cannot even begin to understand or if we do understand, put words to.
What is there when the body is gone? and the house is gone and the money is gone and the television is gone? What if we were left entirely with ourselves without the existence of any material thing? Including our body.
My friend James says, then we would cease to exist. If there is no outside influence to tell us who and what we are, then we simply do not exist. No biologist to trace our evolution, no archeologist to trace our civilations, no sociologist to trace our societies, no prohpets to trace our meaning of existence.
But we do have all those things, all those things that define who and what we are. What if we blocked out all that information and just looked at what was left - what would that be? And how would you know?
Would it be possible to remember this if I were severely injured, or being horribly tortured, or cold on the street somewhere with no place to sleep? Would these events even occur in my life if I came to the state of being as I described above, or would I be in a state of existence where injury, torture or homelessness did not even occur or exist? Some sort of parallel universe that we could slip into, with the same cast of characters, only operating and living in an existence that we cannot even begin to understand or if we do understand, put words to.
What is there when the body is gone? and the house is gone and the money is gone and the television is gone? What if we were left entirely with ourselves without the existence of any material thing? Including our body.
My friend James says, then we would cease to exist. If there is no outside influence to tell us who and what we are, then we simply do not exist. No biologist to trace our evolution, no archeologist to trace our civilations, no sociologist to trace our societies, no prohpets to trace our meaning of existence.
But we do have all those things, all those things that define who and what we are. What if we blocked out all that information and just looked at what was left - what would that be? And how would you know?
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
STOPPING BY
Stopping by, unannounced, is something I missed when I was away from the midwest. Here, in the midwest, it is perfectly fine to just stop by and if it is at dinner time then you might as well just stay.
It is not uncommon for your good friends, the ones you want to share meals with and with whom you have the conversations that give your life meaning, to just stop by. Whatever you are doing, you just stop or continue doing what you were doing, while you visit with your friends.
This happened at my house just this evening. We ended up eating lemon pasta, made from the expired lemons given to us by the local brew pub, and drinking a fine bottle of Cabernet Savinion. No particular reason for the visit other than "in the neighborhood". It was a fine end to a wonderful spring day with gusty winds, clear blue skies, mid-50's temps and daffodills blooming like heck all around the neighborhood.
It is not uncommon for your good friends, the ones you want to share meals with and with whom you have the conversations that give your life meaning, to just stop by. Whatever you are doing, you just stop or continue doing what you were doing, while you visit with your friends.
This happened at my house just this evening. We ended up eating lemon pasta, made from the expired lemons given to us by the local brew pub, and drinking a fine bottle of Cabernet Savinion. No particular reason for the visit other than "in the neighborhood". It was a fine end to a wonderful spring day with gusty winds, clear blue skies, mid-50's temps and daffodills blooming like heck all around the neighborhood.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Chase Scene
Well, it is spring and the squirrels are having at it. We have this unique community of black squirrels that someone introduced into our neighborhood - they only live on the east side of the main street, in about a 5 block area in my neighborhood. The gray squirrels and the black squirrels do not get along at all. They have these incredible chasing events in which they run around and around the tree trunks, up and down the trees. jumping from one high branch to another, finally giving up when one or the other manages to fool his pursuer by stopping on a dime and remaining perfectly still.
A couple of nights ago it was fairly mild and I was out on the deck enjoying the night air. The sky was an incredible indigo color, about an hour after sunset, and all of a sudden all hell broke lose. I couldn't see them, but some squirrels got into an incredible chase, making strange noises like screaming monkeys and running about in the treetops and up and down the trees in what must have been some amazing acrobatics. "In the night?", my housemate asked. Yes, in the night. Someone of them must have tried to raid a nest, or steal some food, or snuggle up where he shouldn't have. As quickly as it started, it stopped, and I was left wondering how it all turned out.
Next day, there was some gray fur in the yard, and so, now, there is a gray squirrel around somewhere missing a quite significant patch of fur somewhere on his little body. Must be incredible, being able to run around the trees like that, at breakneck speed.
A couple of nights ago it was fairly mild and I was out on the deck enjoying the night air. The sky was an incredible indigo color, about an hour after sunset, and all of a sudden all hell broke lose. I couldn't see them, but some squirrels got into an incredible chase, making strange noises like screaming monkeys and running about in the treetops and up and down the trees in what must have been some amazing acrobatics. "In the night?", my housemate asked. Yes, in the night. Someone of them must have tried to raid a nest, or steal some food, or snuggle up where he shouldn't have. As quickly as it started, it stopped, and I was left wondering how it all turned out.
Next day, there was some gray fur in the yard, and so, now, there is a gray squirrel around somewhere missing a quite significant patch of fur somewhere on his little body. Must be incredible, being able to run around the trees like that, at breakneck speed.
New Folds in the Brain
Attachment - that which keeps us from realizing our true nature as immortal souls, sons and daughters of God. I am attached to rich foods and refined sugars and flours, and I have an incredible attachment to a past relationship. Over and over I resolve to give these things up, but when I pass through the bake shop and smell the sugar cookies fresh out of the oven, or I learn that a past love is in another relationship, I eat the cookie and I feel jealousy over the new relationship. It takes 8 years to completely develop a new habit, good or bad - years of struggling against these things that I know are not good for me and hinder my progress in my quest to find God. Years of erasing the folds in my brain that are deeply creased with those bad habits, years in making new folds of good habits.
Well, at least this gives me something to do, each moment of every day.
Well, at least this gives me something to do, each moment of every day.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Snow Walker
After a couple of extremely rapid mini-blizzards yesterday, we are left here, again, with snow on the ground. But again, and this seems unusual to me for this area, this time of year, the sun is shining brightly and the sky is blue.
Venturing out for a walk around the neighborhood for fresh air and to think about God, I was surprised at how sublime everything seemed to be. The birds were incredible! Incredible! and it was very quiet as not many people were out and about on this windy, sunny, cold day.
There was the perfect amount of snow on the sidewalks for excellent, sole gripping walking. In some places, I got to be the first one who had walked on the snow! In a couple of places, it was just me and a bunny rabbit, my two steps to her one big hop.
At times I felt like I was in a dream, walking through some otherworldly place, where the senses were different, and the atmosphere translucent. It felt like I was on the verge of waking up, but wanted to stay content in a enchanting dream where nothing is really happening, it just feels like the whole thing makes sense and everything is connected.
Did I wake up then to the sound of a car, or did I fall asleep and the car was in my dream?
In all scenarios, the one, beautiful constant shines brightly, permeating the truth of existence throughout all that is.
Joy pervades in the wisdom of the immortality of my soul. Everything else falls away as the desire to know God infuses everything.
Walking on snow and thinking of God.
Venturing out for a walk around the neighborhood for fresh air and to think about God, I was surprised at how sublime everything seemed to be. The birds were incredible! Incredible! and it was very quiet as not many people were out and about on this windy, sunny, cold day.
There was the perfect amount of snow on the sidewalks for excellent, sole gripping walking. In some places, I got to be the first one who had walked on the snow! In a couple of places, it was just me and a bunny rabbit, my two steps to her one big hop.
At times I felt like I was in a dream, walking through some otherworldly place, where the senses were different, and the atmosphere translucent. It felt like I was on the verge of waking up, but wanted to stay content in a enchanting dream where nothing is really happening, it just feels like the whole thing makes sense and everything is connected.
Did I wake up then to the sound of a car, or did I fall asleep and the car was in my dream?
In all scenarios, the one, beautiful constant shines brightly, permeating the truth of existence throughout all that is.
Joy pervades in the wisdom of the immortality of my soul. Everything else falls away as the desire to know God infuses everything.
Walking on snow and thinking of God.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Standing by the Window
Today I was working on my computer in my room on the second floor of the big house where I live, on a project for a friend. We had heavy rain and wind today here in Northern Indiana, and warm temps in the 50's.
Late in the afternoon, the rain stopped and the sun came out for a bit. It was like a lovely spring day, all the snow has melted and the river is running high. I took a walk down to the river and back and when I got home, I began work on the project.
The windows in my room are tall, about 5 feet high, and I get a good view of the neighborhood and all the way over to the college campus. While I was working, I heard a sound like a jet overhead and paused to listen. No, it's a train I thought. But then I realized it was the wind. Bad sign here in tornado country. And, it started pouring rain, sheets of rain. So, I got up and stood by the window to see what I could see.
The trees were bending tremendously and there was a dark line in the clouds. I stood there fascinated by the sound and the trees and the rain and this cloud and then it occured to me, that I was on the second floor, next to a window and a tornado was possibly coming through here! For some reason, I stood there immobilized, knowing that I should run for cover in the basement, 2 floors down, but could not tear myself away from the window. I ran from room to room to try to see if I could see a tornado and then while I was trying to get a glimpse of what could have been my demise, the wind stopped, just like that, and everything became still. Another bad sign.
Better get downstairs now, I thought, and ran down the stairs. One of my roommates said, did you hear that wind? We stood there listening, still not heading down to the basement, but nothing happened. The wind had just stopped and was not picking up again. The rain continued, a nice, even steady rain and I went back upstairs to my room.
I am still puzzled about why I didn't immediately take cover, as I had been taught to do since kindergarten, when such conditions exist. Why I stood there by the window, trying to see if there was a tornado, is beyond me. Some strange fascination with the weather and its power, like standing by the ocean during a big swell, out on a rock, or walking through a blizzard, or walking around through the cracking trees after a big ice storm.
Maybe it is the adrenaline rush or perhaps just a simple reminder of my place in the universe.
Late in the afternoon, the rain stopped and the sun came out for a bit. It was like a lovely spring day, all the snow has melted and the river is running high. I took a walk down to the river and back and when I got home, I began work on the project.
The windows in my room are tall, about 5 feet high, and I get a good view of the neighborhood and all the way over to the college campus. While I was working, I heard a sound like a jet overhead and paused to listen. No, it's a train I thought. But then I realized it was the wind. Bad sign here in tornado country. And, it started pouring rain, sheets of rain. So, I got up and stood by the window to see what I could see.
The trees were bending tremendously and there was a dark line in the clouds. I stood there fascinated by the sound and the trees and the rain and this cloud and then it occured to me, that I was on the second floor, next to a window and a tornado was possibly coming through here! For some reason, I stood there immobilized, knowing that I should run for cover in the basement, 2 floors down, but could not tear myself away from the window. I ran from room to room to try to see if I could see a tornado and then while I was trying to get a glimpse of what could have been my demise, the wind stopped, just like that, and everything became still. Another bad sign.
Better get downstairs now, I thought, and ran down the stairs. One of my roommates said, did you hear that wind? We stood there listening, still not heading down to the basement, but nothing happened. The wind had just stopped and was not picking up again. The rain continued, a nice, even steady rain and I went back upstairs to my room.
I am still puzzled about why I didn't immediately take cover, as I had been taught to do since kindergarten, when such conditions exist. Why I stood there by the window, trying to see if there was a tornado, is beyond me. Some strange fascination with the weather and its power, like standing by the ocean during a big swell, out on a rock, or walking through a blizzard, or walking around through the cracking trees after a big ice storm.
Maybe it is the adrenaline rush or perhaps just a simple reminder of my place in the universe.
Friday, January 23, 2009
I STAND CORRECTED
Just when I was thinking that no one really reads my blogs, there it was! An actual comment! And, a good one for clarification on the tenderloin sandwich.
Now, I guess my tenderloin tasting spree might have to cross state lines, perhaps taking me all the way to Missouri! The Show Me State!
Show me the tenderloin, baby!
Now, I guess my tenderloin tasting spree might have to cross state lines, perhaps taking me all the way to Missouri! The Show Me State!
Show me the tenderloin, baby!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Indiana Tenderloins
Indiana is the home of the breaded tenderloin sandwich. Pork tenderloin, that is. And there are a number of restaurants and cafes that serve this curiously "Indiana Only" sandwich.
It has continued to surprise me, as I have traveled around the contiguous United States, that Indiana really seems to be the only state where you can get these sandwiches. Maybe there are one or two places just across state lines, but I've never found them, or heard of anyone else finding them.
As it turns out, my dear friend's family by marriage claim to be the inventors of this sandwich. It's a pork tenderloin, pounded out thin - but not too thin for a good one - and coated with breading and deep fried to a golden crispy brown. Served on a bun with "the works" of course, or whatever you want. It is usually a big sandwich, the tenderloin hanging way over the edge of the bun, but size doesn't always mean better, or best, in this situation at least.
Other criteria that my other friend and I have determined are necessary for a good pork tenderloin sandwich are tenderness and flavor of the breading. Tastless breading and cardboard thin tenderloins are guarantees of a one star rating from me and my friend.
We have decided to tour the state in search of breaded pork tenderloin sandwiches and are planning to write a tenderloin guidebook to hopefully help attract tourists to our great state. Dan Quayle has outserved his usefullness in that regard.
Other factors we consider are service, atmosphere, and the ability or not to get a Bloody Mary with our sandwich. We are trying to not let that last criteria overshadow the actual quality of the tenderloin, but have to admit, that we have been disappointed when all we could get for a beverage was coffee or a softdrink. We were especially elated just this past week when we were able to get not only a delicious sandwich but a spicey and strong Bloody Mary at the tavern in a town of about 150 people. "How do you like 'em?" the bartenderess asked us. "Strong and spicey", we said, and that is just what we got. She stood there while we tasted our drinks, just to make sure she got them right.
I'm not sure just at this present moment how this fits in to my goal of "purification" for the new year, but I'm sure it fits in there somewhere.
So far, we have visited 4 taverns or cafes that serve tenderloin sandwiches, including the store that claims to be the original maker of the breaded tenderloin sandwich. So, I would say, there are only about 150 or so left to try. Right now I am not prepared to make a public statement, beyond what I said about the little tavern with the good Bloody Marys, except that we feel that we have had 2 good and 2 okay pork tenderloins. And we have had 1 great and 1 okay Bloody Mary.
It could be that the last good Bloody Mary was so good because it helped us recover from a night of tequila drinking at the new art studio of one of our friends.
Nothing like a good breaded pork tenderloin sandwich in that situation, either.
It has continued to surprise me, as I have traveled around the contiguous United States, that Indiana really seems to be the only state where you can get these sandwiches. Maybe there are one or two places just across state lines, but I've never found them, or heard of anyone else finding them.
As it turns out, my dear friend's family by marriage claim to be the inventors of this sandwich. It's a pork tenderloin, pounded out thin - but not too thin for a good one - and coated with breading and deep fried to a golden crispy brown. Served on a bun with "the works" of course, or whatever you want. It is usually a big sandwich, the tenderloin hanging way over the edge of the bun, but size doesn't always mean better, or best, in this situation at least.
Other criteria that my other friend and I have determined are necessary for a good pork tenderloin sandwich are tenderness and flavor of the breading. Tastless breading and cardboard thin tenderloins are guarantees of a one star rating from me and my friend.
We have decided to tour the state in search of breaded pork tenderloin sandwiches and are planning to write a tenderloin guidebook to hopefully help attract tourists to our great state. Dan Quayle has outserved his usefullness in that regard.
Other factors we consider are service, atmosphere, and the ability or not to get a Bloody Mary with our sandwich. We are trying to not let that last criteria overshadow the actual quality of the tenderloin, but have to admit, that we have been disappointed when all we could get for a beverage was coffee or a softdrink. We were especially elated just this past week when we were able to get not only a delicious sandwich but a spicey and strong Bloody Mary at the tavern in a town of about 150 people. "How do you like 'em?" the bartenderess asked us. "Strong and spicey", we said, and that is just what we got. She stood there while we tasted our drinks, just to make sure she got them right.
I'm not sure just at this present moment how this fits in to my goal of "purification" for the new year, but I'm sure it fits in there somewhere.
So far, we have visited 4 taverns or cafes that serve tenderloin sandwiches, including the store that claims to be the original maker of the breaded tenderloin sandwich. So, I would say, there are only about 150 or so left to try. Right now I am not prepared to make a public statement, beyond what I said about the little tavern with the good Bloody Marys, except that we feel that we have had 2 good and 2 okay pork tenderloins. And we have had 1 great and 1 okay Bloody Mary.
It could be that the last good Bloody Mary was so good because it helped us recover from a night of tequila drinking at the new art studio of one of our friends.
Nothing like a good breaded pork tenderloin sandwich in that situation, either.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Mexican Snow Boots
When I left Mexico for the mid-west, I stopped in the port city for one last look around the "Secundas", the second hand shops. There is a 5 or 6 block section of the town that is only these second hand shops. You can find some real treasures there if you are patient and look carefully.
And there they were. The snow boots I had in my vision of the type of snowboots I wanted to weather the winter in the mid west. Snowland, the label on the inside said, with a little caricature of a person skiing. Brown with fake fur tongue, above the ankle with the patterned piping that would put you in mind of the Alps, well, it did me, anyway.
Being this was Mexico, and a part of Mexico where they don't get any snow, I wondered how the boots ended up there. The manufacturer figured out just how to make the soles so that they don't slip at all, well, unless you are walking in conditions like the last ice storm when even my friend's railroad ice boots were ineffective. They are lined with the fake fur and made from some waterproof material on the outside that keeps the heat in and are so comfortable, fit me like a glove.
I love my Mexican snow boots.
And there they were. The snow boots I had in my vision of the type of snowboots I wanted to weather the winter in the mid west. Snowland, the label on the inside said, with a little caricature of a person skiing. Brown with fake fur tongue, above the ankle with the patterned piping that would put you in mind of the Alps, well, it did me, anyway.
Being this was Mexico, and a part of Mexico where they don't get any snow, I wondered how the boots ended up there. The manufacturer figured out just how to make the soles so that they don't slip at all, well, unless you are walking in conditions like the last ice storm when even my friend's railroad ice boots were ineffective. They are lined with the fake fur and made from some waterproof material on the outside that keeps the heat in and are so comfortable, fit me like a glove.
I love my Mexican snow boots.
Friday, January 9, 2009
remain calm
do you think that if you fell out of an airplane
at 10,000 feet
without a parachute
you'd be able to remain calm?
how about if you were captured
and your captives
comitted some horrible atrocity
against your body?
or if you were walking down the sidewalk
and the person in front of you
suddenly burst
into spontaneous combustion?
or how about if you were sitting
beside a stream
and the water
just kept flowing right on by?
at 10,000 feet
without a parachute
you'd be able to remain calm?
how about if you were captured
and your captives
comitted some horrible atrocity
against your body?
or if you were walking down the sidewalk
and the person in front of you
suddenly burst
into spontaneous combustion?
or how about if you were sitting
beside a stream
and the water
just kept flowing right on by?
Knowledge Gained
Recently I applied for a position at the little local college, with the encouragement of the department chair. Even though I felt it might be a long shot for me to get an offer, it was something that I felt passionate about and believed I could have learned the apsects of the position that were not in my area of expertise. I had many of the qualifications that the position description listed as necessary.
On several occations, I visited the department chair's office, wanting to introduce myself and get a name with a face, but he was always out or in class. I did not get the offer, not even an interview.
Listed on my resume was my current employer, the college, as I work in food service there. The other day, while serving the Rotary Club their lunch, I saw that this department chair was in attendance and introduced myself to him. "Oh, I didn't know you worked here", he said.
This caused me to wonder if he had even read my resume or application. I learned later that they already had someone in mind for the position, and the listing was just a matter of formality, you know, to satisy those pesky human resources people.
I thought about all the time and energy I had put into this application process and was left feeling, well, sort of bummed out.
But then I remembered that I had learned so much from an on-line course I had taken - to gain some of that knowledge that I didn't have that was pertinant to the position - and I realized what a blessing the whole process had been. I brightened up and gave thanks for the experience and went outside to feed the squirrels.
On several occations, I visited the department chair's office, wanting to introduce myself and get a name with a face, but he was always out or in class. I did not get the offer, not even an interview.
Listed on my resume was my current employer, the college, as I work in food service there. The other day, while serving the Rotary Club their lunch, I saw that this department chair was in attendance and introduced myself to him. "Oh, I didn't know you worked here", he said.
This caused me to wonder if he had even read my resume or application. I learned later that they already had someone in mind for the position, and the listing was just a matter of formality, you know, to satisy those pesky human resources people.
I thought about all the time and energy I had put into this application process and was left feeling, well, sort of bummed out.
But then I remembered that I had learned so much from an on-line course I had taken - to gain some of that knowledge that I didn't have that was pertinant to the position - and I realized what a blessing the whole process had been. I brightened up and gave thanks for the experience and went outside to feed the squirrels.
Friday, January 2, 2009
the answer
it wasn't exactly as if i were waiting for it,
it just showed up at an opportune moment.
a moment of weakness, or perhaps vulnerability.
a moment when my soul must have been crying out,
unheard even to me, hidden behind the sound proof barrier.
there it was, golden and shining, powerful yet meek, known yet unknown,
everything and nothing, all at the same time.
i suddenly found myself enveloped, surrounded,
the sound proof barrier instantly gone,
the sounds of angels resounding across the universe.
it just showed up at an opportune moment.
a moment of weakness, or perhaps vulnerability.
a moment when my soul must have been crying out,
unheard even to me, hidden behind the sound proof barrier.
there it was, golden and shining, powerful yet meek, known yet unknown,
everything and nothing, all at the same time.
i suddenly found myself enveloped, surrounded,
the sound proof barrier instantly gone,
the sounds of angels resounding across the universe.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
