Guilty Pleasures

Keep in mind, it's Spring Break, so I'm allowed to do less, very little, or even nothing. I am trying to make today "nothing" day, but I'm not sure my wife will let me get away with that (something about her wanting me to do the laundry ... there's always tomorrow for that).

This afternoon, I did find myself in front of the television enjoying an hour of Tom and Jerry, yes the classic cartoon that is sent to symphonic scores where Tom (the cat) never seems to tire of chasing Jerry (the mouse) who always seems to win the battle in the end (often with the assistance of Spike, the dog, or one of several other cameo characters that happen to drop by for the particular episode.

Even though the plot is predictable, and in some cases I know exactly what will happen, I find Tom and Jerry enjoyable. Yes, they can be a bit violent at times (it can't be too violent, I grew up on Tom and Jerry and I didn't end up as a mass-murderer) but overall they are quite enjoyable. I was pleased today to find Tom and Jerry working together to care for a baby because the teenage babysitter was much too busy talking on the phone with her friend to notice that the baby was wandering away. So, yes, maybe the plot often revolves around some sort of dysfunction and finds a way to make us laugh at it, but I will still defend Tom and Jerry, Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, and the other classics over any of today's cartoons.


Keeping with my food theme (of this week anyway) I was also recalling how my parents used to enjoy a beverage called a "Tom and Jerry" which I always thought was ironic, a drink named after a cartoon (o.k. maybe the cartoon was named after the drink ... no chance it is just coincidence). It was primarily a Christmas drink for my parents and they offered my brother and I the "non-alcoholic" version, which to me tasted terrible, I can't recall what it tasted like, but I know it was gross. I used to marvel at my parents' choice to drink the stuff, maybe the brandy and rum mixed into the concoction made the taste better, or at least made the drinker forget about the taste, but I couldn't figure out why they would sit and sip this disgusting concoction. I recall watching my parents make this drink ... it came in a wax-papered-tub, like sour cream, (keep in mind this would have been the early 80's) and the "batter", as the mix was called, had a consistency like meringue (something else I am not a huge fan of). A dollop of the batter into the mug, a bit of brandy and rum, then hot water on top. YUCK!

My parents used to contend that it was better than Egg Nog, so I wasn't introduced to that awful egg-drink until I was at my grandparents house and received a small glass. That's something else I just can't stomach. I guess I just wasn't made to drink eggs, that's all there is to it.

On to foods I was made to eat, I have found one of the greatest snack foods ever ...
Trader Joe's Reduced Guilt Potato Chip!
Yes, the marketing works, I don't feel near as guilty about sitting down and eating an entire bag of these chips, after all they have 33% less fat than regular potato chips. I know, that doesn't mean I'm supposed to eat the whole bag in one sitting, especially covered in a fat-laddened dip, but hey, I can't change human nature, so I just do what I do and feel less guilty about it.

For those of you unfortunate souls that don't have Trader Joe's near you, I suggest you write your local political representatives and get them doing something meaningful, like passing a law that every town needs a Trader Joe's. Now, you can't find all of your groceries at Trader Joe's, but you can find most of the staples, and really anything you can't find at Trader Joe's, you just don't need (you may want it, but you don't need it).

The shopping experience at Trader Joe's is not one for the faint of heart. It may just be this area, but I have yet to shop Trader Joe's when I could casually examine all of the products I wanted at my own pace without being asked to "excuse me" by at least 20 people (often half of them are the employees trying to stock shelves or help customers). You have to go in knowing what you want and grab it. This does make the first trip a bit daunting, but it's so worth it. The foods are generally organic or at least natural and "healthier" than most other mass-produced foods.

The worst part of the shopping experience at Trader Joe's is the check-out lane. Even when it's "less busy" they have cashiers at every lane and there are often lines at least 5 deep at each line (the express lane is notorious for having 10 people in it, and moving no faster than the other lanes, thus creating a false sense of "express") so it's always helpful to bring a book to read ... or if you're with someone, one of you should get in line when you get there, the other should go get everything, and by the time your cart is full, the person in line should be about ready to check-out.

I keep thinking I'm going to add some insightful theological bent to my ramblings, but so far that hasn't been happening. Maybe I'll change the description of my blog ... maybe I'll just be more intentional about what I write.

What's for Lunch?

It's Spring Break week. For many college students that means a rush to the south to hang out on the beach and do things that you forget later (or wish you could forget later), but as a Graduate Student, there is a greater realization that such trips cost more than student loans will allow, so we try to stay a little closer to home. Some of my fellow students have ventured to places like Lake Tahoe for a few days to enjoy nature and live out of a car for a few days others have gone home (apparently not everyone has their permanent address here in Berkeley).

I had planned to head to Minnesota to visit my new Nephew and Nieces, but alas the airline was too full and there was not room to squeeze me on. So, here I sit in Berkeley, in the rain trying to figure out how to occupy my day without doing anything productive (yes, I will do productive things if I have to, but I'm trying to avoid it). Did I mention that it's raining? That means no non-productive but interesting endeavors like bike rides or walks to 7-Eleven to get a Slurpee (mmm ... Slurpee).

So here I sit, with thoughts of food on my head (after all, a guy has to eat) so I ventured to the refrigerator to find nourishment. Today I found two pieces of leftover french toast, turkey lunch meat, cheese ... BINGO ... I could make my version of one of my favorite sandwiches, the Monte Cristo (yes, I am the king of leftovers, I always thought that I would go on the Food Network and compete for such a title and win it easily, but I digress).

As I prepared my Monte Cristo, I had fond memories of eating this favorite sandwich at Houlihan's ... a restaurant that is not found in every city, so when we found one in Huntsville, Alabama after watching hockey (yes another long story) I indulged in this deep-fried ooey-gooey-ness. My version was clearly healthier than the Houlihan's version, it was about a quarter of the size, not deep fried, and made with organic whole grain bread, free range turkey, and organic cheese (ah, eating in Berkeley). I also felt a little sad knowing that the Monte Cristo had been removed from the Houlihan's menu, I guess health-consciousness got to the regulars of that establishment.

Speaking of less than healthy food experiences, I got to thinking about Twinkies. I don't know exactly how my mind jumped there (it could be the Spring Break influence) and with a bit of free time on my hands I searched the Internet to discover that the Twinkie seems to be the most "scientifically" researched food on the net. There is no shortage of college students who would do their "duty" to research the Twinkie in all of it's strangeness. Here's a brief list of some of what I found:
Twinkies Project
Twinkie Trivia
TwinkieHenge
Twinkie Failure Testing
Yes, the Twinkie, a sure symbol of America ... terrible for us, lasts forever. I can't remember the last time I ate a Twinkie. The mere thought of it makes my stomach turn a bit. I would guess the last time I ate a Twinkie was when I was working at Olson's Kwik Food Mart (and full service gas station) and was offered a "day old" Twinkie (which in itself is a hilarious concept) from "Hostess Bob". "Hostess Bob" was the delivery guy who came by twice a week to bring us the "fresh" Hostess products (again, a hilarious concept). Bob was a little bit of a guy, always wore a smile, always had an armful of Hostess products to share! I wonder what Hostess Bob is doing today ... I wonder if he's still delivering "everlasting pastries" to convenience stores in Minnesota or if he has moved on to something else.

Laundry Day

Today was laundry day. When living in a place where you share a laundry room with others, it is always good to figure out the day to avoid and the day to do your laundry. Monday is certainly not the day to do laundry, everyone seems to like doing their laundry on Monday so I avoid it at all costs. On the other hand, Tuesday seems to be the day when no one does their laundry, so it works out well. Other days are hit and miss. But I digress.
I find that I have two least favorite parts of doing the laundry (beyond the fact that next to cleaning the house doing laundry in general is my least favorite activity - EVER) both parts come at the end of the process. One is ironing (I question the purpose of owning any clothing that needs to be ironed) and when I had to wear such clothes regularly I utilized the local "martinizer" to take care of that issue for me. The other issue is folding socks.

It's not that I want to throw all of my socks in a drawer and just pick them out, though that is sometimes tempting, but I hate the idea of having to sort through a pile of socks trying to find ones that match ... being the typical male that I am, most of my socks are the typical white crew sock type so theoretically they are all the same, still somehow one seems to shrink slightly more or differently than the other.

I find this most disturbing, I wear my socks the same way. I put them on the same way and take them off the same way. I wash my socks the same way. Still, they come out of the dryer with one being slightly shorter, the other slightly narrower, one slightly whiter, I just don't get it.

Maybe I should spend some time researching this topic.

Worship Styles

An old farmer went to the city one weekend and attended a big city church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

"Well," said the farmer, "it was good. They did some things differently though. They sang praise and worship choruses instead of hymns."

"Praise and worship choruses?" said his wife. "What are those?"

"Oh, they're okay. They're sort of like hymns, only different," said the farmer.

"Well, what's the difference?" asked his wife.

The farmer said, "Well, it's like this. If I were to say to you:
'Martha, the cows are in the corn' well, that would be a hymn.
If, on the other hand, I were to say to you:
Martha, Martha, Martha,
Oh, MARTHA, MARTHA, MARTHA,
the cows,
the big cows,
the brown cows,
the black cows,
the white cows,
the black and white cows,
the COWS, COWS, COWS,
are in the corn, are in the corn,
are in the corn, are in the corn,
the CORN, CORN, CORN.'
"Then if I were to repeat the whole thing 4 or 5 times and include guitar and drum solos, well that would be a praise chorus."

As luck would have it, the exact same Sunday, a young, new Christian from the city church attended the small country church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

"Well," said the young man, "it was good. They did some things differently though. They sang hymns instead of regular songs.."

"Hymns?" said the wife. "What are those?"

"Oh, they're okay. They're sort of like regular songs, only different." said the young man.

"Well, what's the difference?" asked his wife.

The young man said, "Well, it's like this. If I were to say to you:
'Martha, the cows are in the corn.' well, that would be a regular song.
If on the other hand, I were to say to you:
'Oh Martha, Dear Martha, hear thou my cry.
Inclinest thine ear to the words of my mouth.
Turn thou thy whole wondrous ear by and by
to the righteous, inimitable, glorious truth.
For the way of the animals - who can explain?
There in their heads is no shadow of sense,
hearkenest they in God's sun or his rain
unless from the mild, tempting corn they are fenced.
Yea those cows in glad bovine, rebellious delight
have broken free their shackles, their warm pens eschewed.
Then goaded by minions of darkness and night,
they all my mild sweet corn have chewed.
So look to that bright shining day by and by.
Where all foul corruptions of earth are reborn,
where no vicious animal makes my soul cry
and I no longer see those foul cows in the corn.
"Then, if I were to do only verses one, three, and four, well, that would be a hymn."

Carlin wii Cricket

I've been doing some recreational reading lately on the advice of several people that said that as a student one of the best things that I can do is keep my mind in books that are not exclusively for class. Normally this causes a problem because I tend to read stuff for leisure that some would read for class (no, not the Greek New Testament).

So a few weeks ago I happened to be at Goodwill and browsing the book section when I came across this work by George Carlin. Yes, he's a bit crude and certainly sacreligious at best, but in the midst of that is some funny stuff that makes you think about the world differently.

I finished this most recent effort by Carlin the other night and I have to say while I found a lot of humorous bits I was rather annoyed that I never found the answer to when Jesus will bring the pork chops. I guess maybe that's what seminary is for.

Then last night, I'm hanging out with a friend who recently purchased a Nintendo Wii. Now, allow me to say that I'm not really up on all of the technology that is available in the world of video games, so I couldn't tell you what makes one system better than the next, but after a couple hours of hanging-out playing Wii I was hooked. (Glad I can't afford one, cuz it would be the death of my academic days).

I'm probably preaching to the choir, but for those that don't know or haven't heard about the Wii allow me to highlight just a few of its wonderful attributes. First, you get to create your own "Mii" which is a digital likeness of yourself. Though the characteristics are limited, you really can end up with an uncanny likeness of yourself. I think my wife was more impressed with hers than I was with mine (and she really doesn't like video game systems).

Once you've created a Mii, then you can play games. We started off with a nice game of tennis. The cool thing about the Wii is that you are actually doing the motions of the players ... so in the case of tennis I was really swinging a tennis racket motion. Pretty Cool! I guess part of the goal is to try to reverse the couch-potato trend that has come to America with the obsession over video games, so at least Nintendo can say it's doing its part to help keep America thin.

We moved from Tennis into some bizarre game called Wario Ware ... apparently it comes highly recommended. The crazy thing about Wario Ware is that you basically play a whole bunch of short games in quick succession. So, you might for example ...

... pop in grandma's dentures. Or there are games where you balance a broom on your hand, drive a car, swat a fly, save a falling person, etc. The thing is that usually before you have figured out exactly what to do, the time clock is nearly up. Still, hours of fun to be had by all, and not just the person playing ... it is hilarious for viewers as well. You can watch the happenings on the screen (our favorites were the disco cats) or you can watch the person playing make some pretty goofy looking poses. Yes, I suggest a Nintendo Wii for every house, just make sure you have enough room to really enjoy it!


After returning home at midnight from playing Wii I heard the most unusual sound outside the bedroom window. (To preface the story, our apartment overlooks an alley, well, really it's a greenway path, but who's counting.) There was this fairly regular sound of a ball hitting something solid, maybe a bat or a racket. I looked out the window and found three guys playing cricket in the alley! Now, I'm not opposed to the game of cricket, but it doesn't really strike me as the kind of game to be played at midnight in an alley, knowing full well that the people in the apartments overlooking the "playing field" might be wanting to sleep. Add to this rather odd scene, the conversation that was going on sounded to be in Hindi or another Middle-Eastern language. Ah, Berkeley, you just never know what experience you will have around the corner (or in your own backyard).

Our Daily Bread

We ask panem quotidianem, our daily bread,
and God never says you should have come yesterday,
God never says you must come again tomorrow,
but today, if you will hear God's voice,
today God will hear you.

from Sermon at St. Paul's Christmas Day in the Evening 1640 by John Donne.