Friday, February 13, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Books..
I had the good fortune to grow up in a home where books were commonplace. We didn't have a fancy television with luxuries like remote controls, a viewable picture, or channels that weren't 4, 5, or 8! We had clunky box with tinfoil-encrusted rabbit ears. Changing the channel required a pair of pliers, a short walk, and a certain fearlessness about being electrocuted whilst cramming a metal instrument into the bowels of a decrepit electronic device.
My dad's huge entertainment center didn't hold a flat panel tv. It had a record player, stereo speakers, stacks of record albums, and books. Row after row of books.
There was another tall book case full of paperbacks in the garage. My dad's taste leaned toward sci-fi and the like, perfect for a burgeoning young reader to pick up and enjoy. On those endless summer days between middle school years, I would wander out to the garage and browse the covers for something interesting. I read Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, Larry Niven, Stephen King, Greg Bear, Tolkien, and many others. There was some seriously good stuff out there.
I had my own books that I picked up at various book fairs. I was a regular at the school library. I think I read every Hardy Boys book in existence. I always wanted to go for a ride in Chet's sweet jalopy. I read Where the Red Fern Grows, Old Yeller, and The Call of the Wild over and over again. After I discovered my first Lord of The Rings book and brushed off the dust bunnies, I barely slept a minute in the next two days
Books were important to me, and they are important now. Language and entertainment have moved toward the quick and easy. I have hour after hour of shows on my dvr (Doctor Who is paused right now as I type this). I send a hundred fragmented e-mails every day at work. Text messages have transformed writing from an art or a pleasure into a terse, joyless expediency to get through as quickly as possible. Heck, I can misspell every word, and Big Brother iPhone will helpfully correct it all.
I believe that I am a better, more intelligent person from all the reading I have done in my life. I hope people keep reading. I hope I do. Most of all, I hope my little boy can somehow resist the ubiquitous Nintendo DS'es, the endless wonders of the internet, and the hundreds of channels of digital cable. I hope some day that he will wander out to my bookshelf, brush off a dusty cover, and settle in for a good read.
My dad's huge entertainment center didn't hold a flat panel tv. It had a record player, stereo speakers, stacks of record albums, and books. Row after row of books.
There was another tall book case full of paperbacks in the garage. My dad's taste leaned toward sci-fi and the like, perfect for a burgeoning young reader to pick up and enjoy. On those endless summer days between middle school years, I would wander out to the garage and browse the covers for something interesting. I read Robert Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, Larry Niven, Stephen King, Greg Bear, Tolkien, and many others. There was some seriously good stuff out there.
I had my own books that I picked up at various book fairs. I was a regular at the school library. I think I read every Hardy Boys book in existence. I always wanted to go for a ride in Chet's sweet jalopy. I read Where the Red Fern Grows, Old Yeller, and The Call of the Wild over and over again. After I discovered my first Lord of The Rings book and brushed off the dust bunnies, I barely slept a minute in the next two days
Books were important to me, and they are important now. Language and entertainment have moved toward the quick and easy. I have hour after hour of shows on my dvr (Doctor Who is paused right now as I type this). I send a hundred fragmented e-mails every day at work. Text messages have transformed writing from an art or a pleasure into a terse, joyless expediency to get through as quickly as possible. Heck, I can misspell every word, and Big Brother iPhone will helpfully correct it all.
I believe that I am a better, more intelligent person from all the reading I have done in my life. I hope people keep reading. I hope I do. Most of all, I hope my little boy can somehow resist the ubiquitous Nintendo DS'es, the endless wonders of the internet, and the hundreds of channels of digital cable. I hope some day that he will wander out to my bookshelf, brush off a dusty cover, and settle in for a good read.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Monday, February 02, 2009
Hero Dog: Sergeant Stubby
Read this article about a wonderful hero dog from WWI. Sergeant Stubby is now a permanent resident at the Smithsonian museum.
Sergeant Stubby's Story
Sergeant Stubby's Story
Adventures in Baby____ing
This an e-mail I sent to Shannon on Friday morning. Now that her maternity leave is over, the baby and I spend some quality time together during work day mornings. We get ready for work and for day care together. Some days, not all goes according to plan.
-----
This happened when I was getting ready to take Michael to child care for the morning. He hadn't had a dirty diaper in several days...
He sat serenely. Leaning forward, pale skin contrasting against the blue Bumbo chair, he looked peaceful. But that was an illusion. Deep within, powerful forces were at work. Pressure was building. Geothermal currents and processes were reaching critical mass.
Outside, birds fell silent and dogs struggled to escape their yards. The Brushy Creek mountain lion screamed and cowered in a cedar tree. Something was coming, and nothing could stop it.
The first indication was subtle. Was that a smile? Why is he turning red? What is he concentrating on? Then came the sound; a baritone rumble like a tuba full of saliva. We had heard plenty of those in the last few days, but none had produced anything in the diaper. Then came another report; a boom like demolition of a water tower full of taffy. And then came another, like a hundred cannons firing slightly out of unison.
Silence rushed in suddenly, and Mikey slumped back in his baby chair, exhausted by the elemental forces he had unleashed. I instantly knew what had happened, and my heart filled with icy cold dread. How could this happen now? Just after Shannon left for work and just minutes before day care? All those peaceful days of clean diapers this week had come home to roost. Peaceful Krakatoa had exploded at precisely the wrong time.
I steeled my nerves and sipped my coffee for an energy boost. This was going to be a long morning. I peeled back the little baby shorts and got to work.
I wasn't prepared for the carnage that greeted me. Both legs had catastrophically breached. The flimsy elastic was like a straw hut facing a massive milk tsunami. He was covered from the waist down. Feet, legs, thighs, waist. Everything. I despaired. With only several hundred diaper wipes remaining, I feared the supply would run out.
After what seemed like an eternity, the job was done, the beast was slayed. The mountain of wipes and the DIAPER OMG went straight outside to the trash can. And the little harbinger of doom; the conduit of such destruction? He just smiled.
-----
This happened when I was getting ready to take Michael to child care for the morning. He hadn't had a dirty diaper in several days...
He sat serenely. Leaning forward, pale skin contrasting against the blue Bumbo chair, he looked peaceful. But that was an illusion. Deep within, powerful forces were at work. Pressure was building. Geothermal currents and processes were reaching critical mass.
Outside, birds fell silent and dogs struggled to escape their yards. The Brushy Creek mountain lion screamed and cowered in a cedar tree. Something was coming, and nothing could stop it.
The first indication was subtle. Was that a smile? Why is he turning red? What is he concentrating on? Then came the sound; a baritone rumble like a tuba full of saliva. We had heard plenty of those in the last few days, but none had produced anything in the diaper. Then came another report; a boom like demolition of a water tower full of taffy. And then came another, like a hundred cannons firing slightly out of unison.
Silence rushed in suddenly, and Mikey slumped back in his baby chair, exhausted by the elemental forces he had unleashed. I instantly knew what had happened, and my heart filled with icy cold dread. How could this happen now? Just after Shannon left for work and just minutes before day care? All those peaceful days of clean diapers this week had come home to roost. Peaceful Krakatoa had exploded at precisely the wrong time.
I steeled my nerves and sipped my coffee for an energy boost. This was going to be a long morning. I peeled back the little baby shorts and got to work.
I wasn't prepared for the carnage that greeted me. Both legs had catastrophically breached. The flimsy elastic was like a straw hut facing a massive milk tsunami. He was covered from the waist down. Feet, legs, thighs, waist. Everything. I despaired. With only several hundred diaper wipes remaining, I feared the supply would run out.
After what seemed like an eternity, the job was done, the beast was slayed. The mountain of wipes and the DIAPER OMG went straight outside to the trash can. And the little harbinger of doom; the conduit of such destruction? He just smiled.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Healthy Recipe: Bacon Explosion
For those of us working on resolutions to lose some christmas cookie, pregnancy, or pregnancy empathy tonnage, a healthy recipe that tastes good can be valuable. Too bad this is not one of those recipes.
The Bacon Explosion, a creation of http://www.bbqaddicts.com/, combines massive quantities of Italian sausage and bacon in a dense roll that can be smoked or grilled. It's guaranteed to cause the meat sweats. I'm going to give this one a try in the spring. It could be a winner at a cooking challenge party.
The Recipe:
NY Times Article:
Monday, January 26, 2009
Another Awesome Pie at Home Slice
The Sieber family trekked down to South Austin last night for a Sunday night dinner with the Floyd brothers. We enjoyed yet another completely free dinner thanks to Chris' ongoing dynastic reign as the pizza-eating champion. We noted to a waitress last night that our baby Mikey probably holds the record for most visits to HomeSlice without eating anything (4 and counting).
The average pizza at HomeSlice features 1-3 toppings. The pricing model: Cost of Pie = $16 + $2x (where X=# of toppings). Freed from the constraints of cost, Chris's free pizzas are a crazy laboratory for experimenting with topping combinations. A typical order might be 7 different toppings. There have been some strange ones over the last three years, with clams, broccoli, fried eggplant, anchovies, and ricotta making appearances.
Last night, while the other paying customers where enjoying their cookie-cutter pizzas, we enjoyed a fantastic overloaded pie free of charge, as always. If you ever get a chance, try thinly sliced fresh pear as a pizza topping. It works phenomenally well.
Toppings: pepperoni, meatball, mushrooms, fresh mozzarella, fresh basil, and sliced pear.
Cost (comped): ~$28
Tasting notes: Sweet and savory/meaty notes with a hint of aromatic basil. The flavors hit the right notes with a great balance of salty, savory, sweet, and acid. The pear was the standout addition, adding great texture and sweetness. The usual suspects in our free pies, meatball and basil delivered once again. Overall, a top notch topping combination at a price that cannot be beaten ($0).
The average pizza at HomeSlice features 1-3 toppings. The pricing model: Cost of Pie = $16 + $2x (where X=# of toppings). Freed from the constraints of cost, Chris's free pizzas are a crazy laboratory for experimenting with topping combinations. A typical order might be 7 different toppings. There have been some strange ones over the last three years, with clams, broccoli, fried eggplant, anchovies, and ricotta making appearances.
Last night, while the other paying customers where enjoying their cookie-cutter pizzas, we enjoyed a fantastic overloaded pie free of charge, as always. If you ever get a chance, try thinly sliced fresh pear as a pizza topping. It works phenomenally well.
Toppings: pepperoni, meatball, mushrooms, fresh mozzarella, fresh basil, and sliced pear.
Cost (comped): ~$28
Tasting notes: Sweet and savory/meaty notes with a hint of aromatic basil. The flavors hit the right notes with a great balance of salty, savory, sweet, and acid. The pear was the standout addition, adding great texture and sweetness. The usual suspects in our free pies, meatball and basil delivered once again. Overall, a top notch topping combination at a price that cannot be beaten ($0).
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