Miss Erin is Missing!

Before we begin our regularly scheduled program, a word from our sponsor (that would be me) by way of an announcement co-sponsored by The Shameless Plug Department and The Department of Redundancy Department..

Tomorrow evening (too late to be afternoon; not quite night; smack dab in the middle of supper) Edin Road Publications, Obscurities Press in association with Too Cheap to Buy a Real One Productions^(T)  in cooperation with Blog Talk Radio will feature self-proclaimed  obscure Poet and Author David Roth reading Chapter 2, Part 4: Miss Erin is Missing, from his novel The Adventures of the Magnificent Seven, followed by a short discussion of the book with program host Jesse Coffey.  The program will begin broadcast at 6:30 pm eastern time (18:30 hours; 23:30 GMT-5; sometime the next day in Sydney).

Edin Road^®  Radio is a division of Edin Road^®  Press, the proud publisher of the forthcoming electronic book version of The Adventures of the Magnificent Seven, due wherever e-books are sold just in time for Groundhog Day, 2011, and all versions of David’s new novel, Legends of Greenbook Park, due to hit bookshelves in fall, 2011.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled program, already in progress, Tales from Whine Country.

From the newsroom, the current temperature in Valmiera, Latvia, is 21°f (that’s -6°c for those of you keeping score with the metric system).

I’m writing this with the 60 free trial of Microsoft Office Home and Student 2011.  I figured I’d try the free trial before I spend $150 on the real thing for which there is no upgrade discount.  Once it loads, the modules seem intuitive and clean, but it takes twice as long to load on my system as does its predecessor, Microsoft Office Home and Student 2007.  The jury is still out on whether or not I’m going to get the paid-for version when the trial ends.  So far I’m not convinced that it’s that much better than the older version, plus, as I said, it loads a lot slower.

Did I mention that I’m going to be on internet radio tomorrow night?  6:30 PM Eastern time.  Edin Road^®  on Blog Talk Radio.  It’s live world-wide, you know.  Tell your friends.

Christmas is ten days away.  Nine if you live in Australia.  We have three strings of those cute fake icicles hanging from our Florida Rain Gutters.  It seems wrong somehow without the snow.  None-the-less, they’ve been overcommercializing it as they always do since just before Halloween.  I heard a sermon from the weekend from Malachi,  the last book of the Old Testament, and the Christmas Story taken from the first chapter of Luke from the New Testament.  One of the things I learned from the ‘I didn’t Know That’ Department, which has an office just down the hall from the Department of Redundancies Department, was that if you take the four key names from Luke chapter one and string them together with their meanings, you get an incredible bit of Bible information.  The names Zacheriah (the Father of John the Baptist), Elizabeth (the Mother of John the Baptist), John (the Baptist) and Jesus mean, “Jehovah has remembered” (Zacheriah) “His Promise” (Elizabeth), “He is gracious” (John) and “Jehovah is Salvation” (Jesus).  Together you canh translate or read it this way:  “Jehovah has remembered His promise, He is gracious, and He brings Salvation”.  Now how cool is that?

Jesus is the reason for the season, and it is OK to say “Merry Christmas.”  It is a happy holiday because Christ is the root word of CHRISTmas, after all.  But remember, without Good Friday and Easter Sunday, December 25^th is just another day to gather your family around a dead tree, sing songs, and eat candy from a sock.

See you on the radio tomorrow night.

Jenn’s Potato, Leek & Steak Soup (Dave's Adaptation)

My daughter Jennifer created this delightful comfort dish.  This is my adaptation of her creation.  We had it for dinner tonight and it was pure joy to eat.

Dave

Jenn’s Potato, Leek & Steak Soup

(Dave’s adaptation)

2 bags  Bear Creek  Creamy Potato Soup Mix

1 large yellow Onion, diced

4 leeks thinly sliced, washed, drained

12oz Sliced mushrooms

4 TBS minced garlic

4 cups beef stock

4 cups half & half

3 TBS olive oil

3 TBS butter

½ cup white wine

1 lb thinly sliced deli roast beef, cut into ½ inch squares

1 TBS Worcestershire sauce (optional)

½ cup grated Vermont White Cheddar Cheese (optional)

Salt and pepper to taste

Pour the beef stock and half & half in a 4 or 5 quart crock pot.  Wisk in the soup mix and set aside.

Melt the butter and olive oil together in a sauce pan.  When hot, stir in the onions, garlic and mushrooms.  Simmer until the onions are translucent.  Add the meat and sprinkle with the gravy flour.  Stir thoroughly.  Continue to simmer until reduced by about half and the liquid has thickened.  Season with sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste.  Add Worcestershire sauce if desired.

Add the cooked mixture to the soup in the crock pot.  Add the leeks.  Add the optional cheese.  Cover and cook on low for about 3 hours.  Serve hot.  Garnish with a dusting of freshly grated white cheddar and parsley.

Serves  6-8

**I made it without the Worcestershire sauce and cheese, and it was still nicely rich and creamy, and cost about $20.00 to make.

Long May It Wave!

In 1976 I had the privilege of occasionally touring with a road production my alma mater, Liberty University, produced based on the John W. Peterson patriotic cantata I Love America.  Most of the time I was production crew, but a few times I was one of the Marines who raised the flag over Iwo Jima in a replication of the famous Life magazine photograph and statue in our nation’s capital.

One of the songs especially comes to mind when I think of that image.  When I close my eyes I can still hear Evie Tournquist, Jack Andrews or Robbie Hiner singing the words:

Proudly it waves, Old Glory

Over the land of the free

Promise of hope and freedom

Symbol of liberty

Red, white and blue are its colors

Colors both free and clear

Colors with far deeper meaning

Than that may first appear

Red is for the blood of patriots who have died to free us

White is for justice and government of law

Blue is for honor and faith in all we do

This is my flag!

This is Old Glory!

The Red, White and Blue!

I may have gotten a few of those words wrong, but I seem to forget things a bit of late.  That’s how I remember it, and I’m thinking about it even more today, the anniversary of the day the Japanese executed a sneak attack on Pearl Harbor in the Hawaiian Islands, and perhaps because I have family who have served and are serving in some branch of American Military.  I know I’ll miss some of you, so bear with me.

My Uncles Dick, Bob, Ron and Russell Meier; my mother’s brothers served.  All but Uncle Russ served during WWII.  One of them was on Iwo.  My Father and Step-father  were both Army, bracketing Korea.  My brother Alan served post Viet Nam in the Army, and Roger was pre-Desert Storm in the Navy. 

My first girlfriend’s father lied about his age to enlist.  He was one of Merril’s Marauders and made the infamous Burma march.

My father-in-law was Air Force, as is my sister’s son.  Another nephew was just promoted to Gunnery Sergeant in the Corps, and my wife was in the Nave between conflicts.  She has a sister and brother who both served, and a nephew who took his tours in Iraq.

My best friend from high school died in ‘Nam – but it took 20 years to catch up with him.

I’m flying Old Glory today, as I do every day, for them, and the ones I never met, but who served – and sometimes died – to protect this nation and the freedoms we all enjoy.  And as I do, I am reminded that in the course of your life, there are probably only two individuals who willingly gave their life for you – an American soldier who died to give you freedom, and Jesus Christ who died to give you Salvation.

God Bless them all, and God Bless America.

Not enough O's in Smooth

I’m watching the year tick slowly by at warp 9.9.  I know that sounds like a contradiction, but bear with me.

When we were kids – back when the earth was young, dirt was a relatively new concept, the wheel hadn’t yet been invented, and clocks were called sundials - we measured time much differently.  We said things like ‘I’m, four and a half’ being certain to emphasize the ‘and a half’ part.  Now that I’m knocking on the door of 58 (30 days from now, cash is a socially acceptable means of demonstrating your congratulations…or condolences.  Whatever.) I don’t think in halves any more.  I’d like to skip as many of the ‘wholes’ as I can, for that matter.

The idea of space and time being opposite sides of the same coin, and time being one of the universal constants, seems at great odds with my reality.

Let’s face it.  For most of us, it felt like it took about 25 years to get from 12 to 13, another 25 to get from 13 to 16, yet another to hit 18, and darn close to a lifetime to reach ‘legal’ at 21.

Yes, I’m being lazy and just typing numbers instead of spelling them out.  I’m not getting any younger, and my time may be limited,  so I have to take shortcuts where I can.  This much is certain, at 57 and a half - OK 57 and 11/12ths  - I have less time in front of me than behind me, at least on this plane.

I think the physicists and temporal theoreticians have it all wrong. Time definitely runs at different speeds depending how far along the timeline you have progressed.  My conclusion is predicated upon the idea that the 12 month span that dashes by me in nanoseconds takes years to cover the same temporal distance for my 8 year old grandson.  I think that’s part of the whole E=MC² thing.  I’ll have to ask Hawking about it next time we chat.

What other explanation is there for Christmas Eve taking what feels like all of the 12 days of Christmas crammed into one night for the 5-year old who wakes up every 15 minutes and looks frustratingly at the clock, while his parents feel incredibly rushed to get all the gifts wrapped and under the tree in the same time frame, or for how the trip home from Grandma’s house seems to take much less time than the trip there, even though the distance is constant for either direction (are we there yet)?  Could the explanation be simply the same as that of beauty?  That perception is reality as experienced by the one doing the perceiving?

I don’t know.  I only know that time seems to be passing more quickly now that I have less of it in the hourglass that makes up the days of my life, and it feels like some sort of quantum conundrum has been put in play so that as the sands fall, they pick up speed in the dropping.  As though the closer you get to the event horizon of eternity, the faster it draws you in.

And that leads me to the concept of 5/4 time.  Musicians know what I’m talking about.  It seems to go against nature.  Or it did until Dave Brubeck recorded Take-5.  There’s not enough O’s in smooth to describe it, but it’s just the right speed, and takes just the right time.

And was that a clever segue, or what?

Yesterday When We Were Young

Am I the only one to notice that the first decade of the 21^st Century will have had eleven years in it when it ends at midnight, December 31st?  In this country with the exception of the way computers think, we have always done our counting starting with the numeral one and ending with the numeral 10 or zero.  Only computers counted 0,1,2,3.  Any pre-schooler  can tell you that.

At least we did until the whole Y2K fiasco, when some political talking head decided that for the 20^th century, there would only be 99 years, and the zero that would have been the year 2000 AD was suddenly not the last year of the old century but the first year of the new one, which of course, started a commercial marketing feeding frenzy that split the modern world into the camps of thinkers, i.e. those who know how to count, and politicians/marketing heads, i.e., those who can’t count, caused intergalactic uproar over the whole Y2K computer scare that never materialized and eventually funneled its way down to politically incorrect free thinking BLOGGERS gifted in the fine art of run on sentencing.

Yes, I typed that all in one breath.

Where was I?  I’m old, and easily sidetracked, and

I’ve noticed that the older I get, the older I get, and I have developed in my advancing years a propensity for appreciating the beauty of a freshly brewed cup of coffee first thing in the morning while waiting for, I’m sorry – do I know you?

Did I mention I’m old and easily sidetracked?

Oh yes.  2010 – the eleven year decade. 

It is, you know.  2010 is the last year of the first decade of the 21^st century, not the first year of the second decade of the 21^st century.  Not at all like things were when they got all mucked up eleven years ago.  Of course, unless clearer minds prevail - and unless we do away completely with lawyers, politicians, infomercial spokespersons, and worst of all, politicians who used to be lawyers and infomercial spokespersons, that’s not likely to happen – it will happen all over again in the year 2099, 2199, 2299, and on to infinity and beyond (say, that’s catchy!).  Odds are looking better every day that I will not be around for any of those successive events, but for those of you who are – remember – you heard it first here!  Please credit all royalties to my grandchildren.

I have somehow managed to write almost 400 words and I’m still not on topic.

Did I mention that I’m old and easily sidetr…Ooooh!  Flowers!

I started out with the idea of reminiscing about my childhood.  I was a child in the days when every major market in the burgeoning television industry had a Saturday afternoon show with some guy dressed up to look like the evil offspring of Jerry Springer and Oprah and acting like a cross between Bozo the Clown and Leno. 

It was called Creature Feature, and it had all the classics.  Attack of the 50 Foot Woman, The Incredible Shrinking Man, Abbot & Costello Meet the Werewolf, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, The Crawling Eye, Plan 9 from Outer Space, The Day of the Triffids, It Came from Outer Space, The Thing, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, The House on Haunted Hill, all those great old Universal Black and White monster movies that used light, shadow, music and overacting that made Bill Shatner look like a headliner for the Royal Shakespearean Theater.

And we loved it!  It was static filled black and white from an antennae on your roof or a set of rabbit years if you were close enough to the broadcast tower, and there were fewer than 35 commercials every 5 minutes.  It was free analog television when Lucy was Queen, Red was King, and Jackie threatened ‘to the moon, Alice, to the moon.’  Father knew Best, Donna was the perfect Mom, and Wally and the Beaver ruled the air.  Every kid on the planet knew what time it was, who was ‘born on a mountain top in Tennessee’, what Kimosabe meant, Rickey Nelson was the original music video star, Ozzie was a cardigan dad instead of a rocker, and that TV stars and Movie Stars moved in two entirely different universes.  It was Mystery Science Theater 3000 before Mystery Science Theater 3000 was cool.  It was corny, slapstick, fall-down stupid shtick, and we loved it.  It was Bela, Boris, Lon and Lon Jr, and Vincent.  And we gloried in it.

And we didn’t get too twisted watching it – well not those of us who didn’t eventually go into law, infomercials, politics or any combination of the three.

And on a good day, you could get a complete set of ginsu knives that would saw through a tin soda can and still cleanly slice an over-ripe tomato for $19.95, operators standing by.  Check or money order, and postal zones had not yet evolved into zip codes.  Superman Magazine cost a dime, and milk was 25 cents a quart in a vending machine on the corner next to a real telephone booth Dr. Who would be proud of.

And the maniacal laugh of Vincent Price later added to the end of Michael Jackson’s Thriller would have us looking under our beds and closing the closet doors at bed time … just in case.

That was yesterday when we were young.