Spitball Army

(BlackBerry photo: spitballarmy.com)

6 January 2009
V. Richards Cafe and Market

Apparently, the management at V. Richards isn’t too keen on their clientele putting the brakes on the holiday gorging.  “And let it be proclaimed artfully from every napkin dispenser on every table in the land…Each day shall henceforth start with a banquet of orange and yellow bell peppers!”  And, thus, the breakfeast was born.

I will travel out of my way to go to the Irondale post office here in Birmingham.  It’s easy to get in and out of, and the three regular clerks there are usually agreeable.  And, after my run-in at the 1st Avenue North post office last year, I hardly even drive down that street.

Yesterday, I dropped off some mail at the P.O. and asked the nice lady if any new commemoratives had been issued yet this year.

“Yes!”  She sounded almost as excited as I was.  I’ve been collecting stamps since I was a little kid.  I dig a beautifully-crafted postage stamp, and thrill when it heads out of the house on an envelope, on its way to brighten someone else’s day.  That really sounds smarmy, corny, and naive (nobody looks at the stamp as they rip the envelope open!), but that’s the way it is.

“Have you seen the new Alaska stamp?”

“No, let’s see it!”  I had expected nothing until late in the month, to be honest.

She rifled through her drawer and withdrew a file folder.  Opening it, she picked up a sheet of the Alaska stamp and gently laid it in front of me.  She straightened the sheet so the sides of it lay at perfect right angles to the front edge of the counter, touching it ever so lightly with the tips of her fingers.  She beamed.  “Isn’t it pretty?”

It was a great-looking stamp.  “It’s a great-looking stamp,” I said.

Her smile widened.  “And look there, there’s a dog sled!”  She pointed to the photographic image of a dog team being trailed by an Iditarod musher.  “And see who that is driving the team?” she asked me.

“I see him.  Who is it?”

She practically jumped up and down, with a giggle.  “It’s the First Dude, Todd Palin!”  We both laughed.  Don, the clerk at the adjacent window, coughed, and kept on working.

If this is “going postal,” I thought, I’ll definitely be visiting here even more often in the future.

Then I bought several of the Alaska stamps.

Okay, it’s time to come clean.

Even though I am obviously fascinated by letter-writing and letter writers (see Bev & Ande and Ida & Pat), and despite my regular lamentations about that lost art of correspondence, I am terrible at keeping up with my written communications.  I do try, though.  Doesn’t that count for something?

This year I pledged to make good on my internet yapping and mail Christmas cards, something I haven’t done for many, many years.  It turned out to be a pleasantly satisfying experience.

I took a list of cards that I had received last year with me on my mid-December trip to California, planning to write and mail the cards from there.  On my first day in Oceanside, I rose before the sun and drove to the Mottino Y for a morning swim.  There was a chill wind blowing that morning, and a light drizzle.  The lifeguard, huddled beneath an umbrella and parka and seated on an elevated lifeguard stand, was allowing people into the outdoor pool.  There were three of us, and I don’t think I’ve ever swum in such a strange setting: an open-air pool, in the dark, with rain coming down and a near-40 degree difference between the air temperature (high 30s) and the water temperature (high 70s).  After about a half-hour of this, the lifeguard decided to close the pool.

I showered and dressed and went back out into the cold wind and rain.  And the dark.  I drove about a mile to a busy intersection (College and Oceanside Blvd., I think) and parked it at a Starbucks.  The rain was coming down pretty hard by now, the wind was moaning against the windows.  Inside, the café was warm and aglow with the trademark Starbucks burnished wood design and a tasteful smattering of glowing red and white Christmas lights.  I got myself a warm mug of coffee and settled at a table by the window, watching the town wake up and ease out into the inhospitable stormy Monday.  Inside, I felt downright cozy and protected and, well, appropriately festive.

Everybody should have such a setting in which to write Christmas cards, I thought.  Next year, it could be incorporated into a ski trip; I’m imagining a snowy mountain vista outside the window of a lodge, in which I sit sequestered near a blazing fireplace with an embellished cup of cocoa, letters and envelopes spread out on a table before me.

On my return to Alabama, I was met by a pile of mail that included several Christmas cards.  There were a lot of photo-cards this year, and a few year-end round-up letters.  My favorite card, however, seemed hand-picked just for me.  Here is what it looked like on the outside (inside was the printed inscription, “Here’s hoping your holidays are notable.”):

It also seems that I am still on the mailing list of a few record labels.  Here’s the most puzzling card I received this season.  Isn’t it cute and homey-looking? (Also, notice that it says “fiends” and not “friends.):”

Eventually, you start opening the panels, like an Advent calendar.  Holy pineapple tamale!  The panel with the moon on it, when opened, unveiled a line drawing of two human figures engaged in a five-letter interpersonal activity that rhymes with “moon,” underneath the garage panel was a representation of “driving a car,” and so on.  The panel over the doghouse, dated December 25th, revealed something that Nipper - looking on with bemusement - thought was a talent that only he possessed.  Not so, according to the twisted mind of the lonely art director at Drag City Records:

Merrrrry Christmas, indeed!

I have lived in three cities in my life, and two of them were clearly bike-friendly. In fact, there are probably as many bicycles in the Boston/Cambridge area as there are automobiles. Last month, this article ran in the North County Times about the bicycle plans in my hometown of Oceanside, California:

Oceanside already has a good reputation among two-wheeled commuters.  The League of American Bicyclists designated it a “bicycle-friendly community” in September.  No other city in the county has earned that label.

“Bicycling seems to have caught fire a bit in Oceanside,” Kathy Keehan, executive director of the San Diego County Bicycle Coalition, said in an interview Wednesday afternoon. “People are interested in it, and they want to make the city better.”

The master plan proposes 69 miles of new bicycle lanes, pathways and routes, more than doubling what’s already in place. A few, such as the coastal and inland rail trails, are multimillion-dollar projects. Others involve painting stripes on existing roads.

Oceanside has about 933 bicycle commuters, according to the master plan. If the recommendations are followed, that number would climb 5 percent, to 980, the plan estimates.

You can read the entire article here.

According to the NCT piece, the city of Oceanside recently applied for a grant - not an increase in tax monies, mind you - of $435,000 for the expansion and improvement of bike trails.  That’s about $435 appropriated for each regular bicycle commuter.

It would be incredible if the city of Birmingham could incorporate such plans for bikers - even in miniature - into their overall vision of re-paving and re-vamping the street system.  The long-term benefits of decreased pollution, increased health, slower infrastructure decay and a gentler impact to the environment are obvious and undebatable.

10 Abbe Ave.
Thompsonville, Connecticut

27 Nov-1943

Dear Patsoola,

Well Pat how’s the Navy treating you?

Guboola [pet name for Patty] is getting so fresh she won’t let you hold her anymore and she’s into everything.  But she sure is a sweet baby.

We haven’t heard from Speed yet.

Ida calls me her spy because I keep calling her up and ask her about Guboola and then I always say did you hear from my brother.  I always ask for Mrs. Lamagna.  It makes her happy.

Ida’s good, she always comes down to see how Mom is and stays for quite a while with her.

I have been kept quite busy.  I’ve been keeping files on gages [sic] and blueprint and production.  By the time I get out of here I ought to be an expert.

Well, Pat, chin up, this will be all over soon.  We’re all praying for it to end.  So Pat always say well it won’t be long with you and Speed in it.

Lots of Love and Luck.

Your Sister
“Millie”

Ten-year-old Damon Weaver wants to interview Barack Obama during Inauguration Week.  You go, Damon!

Here is Damon’s October 2008 interview with Joe Biden, including color commentary from the Palm Beach County Convention Center:

8:P:M.
Sat. Nov. 27, 1943

Dear Ida & Patty,

I just got off guard duty.  This is after our telephone conversation.  From 6 to 8 P:M.  Ida what I really wanted to tell you which I forgot was did you get a check from the Navy.  I ask you this because Ed. Kiernan told me his wife got a check.  I hope you got one, too.  Please let me know.  I guess I was so exited [sic] because I was talking to you that I forgot.  I also forgot to ask you how Patty was getting along with the teeth.

I will try to answer some of the questions you asked in your last letter.  As for my clothes, Ida, you can do what you want, it is O.K. with me.  Do what you see fit.

I am also glad that you at least had chicken for Thanksgiving.  Our dinner was swell but I didn’t enjoy it because I wasn’t feeling well at the time.  I am feeling swell now.

I have no corns.  In fact they have been swell since I have been here.  I guess it’s the big shoes.  Lots of room in them.  But comfortable.  As for my tummy, I think it is going away.  I have lost wewight.  That is what they want you to do.  You will probably love me a little when you see a real man husky and slim with a short haircut and sailor uniform.  When I come home we can go on a second Honeymoon.  It will be like the real thing after being away so long.  O.K.

I haven’t too much to say because we didn’t do much today.

So be a good girl and wife and take care of Patty.  I am thinking of both of you every minute of the day.

Love,
Daddy

P.S. Tomorrow we start our 3rd week

There are many things that are behind us, other than 2008.  Some are in a constant state of sputtering back to life (see above, excepting Dodos), while others have been wiped from existence forever (see Dodos, above).

Not long ago, I visited a yard sale at the home of some friends.  My bargain discovery was a Polaroid Sun 600 camera for three dollars.  Three dollars (can you believe it?)!!  Such a great deal, if it works.  We shall see.  I’ve decided that if I can get the camera operating and find some fresh film, then I’ll try my hand at “Polaroid art.”  But one step at a time.

This morning I encountered an interesting column in the online New York Times.  It seems that a small coterie of enthusiasts is struggling to revive the “dying” Polaroid camera culture, much like the vinyl LP culture has been kept alive by a new generation of music lovers not so easily seduced by the ease of digital technology.

The next few months will end an era that began six decades ago with a contraption called the Model 95 camera. That accordion-style machine delivered instant photography at a price tag equivalent to some $850 today. The SX-70, which spit out color prints, arrived in 1972. American life during the late 20th century had found its Boswell.

The demise of Polaroid’s instant film cameras has been coming for years. Digital technology did it in. The decision this year by the company that Edwin Land founded to stop manufacturing the film has left devotees who grew up with Polaroid’s palm-size white-bordered prints bereft. They have signed up in the thousands as members of SavePolaroid.com. Digital cameras that print instant pictures have materialized to fill the void, providing a practical substitute. But as in most affairs of the heart, logic is beside the point.

Read the entire article by Michael Kimmelman here.

In a search on the ‘net for Polaroid film, I discovered, in an FAQ page, that Polaroid cameras are powered by batteries included in the film cartridge, and not by batteries stowed somewhere in the body of the camera.  Fascinating.  Now I just need to find some.

On a somewhat related note, we were told as undergraduates at Harvard College that the Science Center complex was constructed to look like a Polaroid camera.  It is indeed a known fact that the building’s construction was funded by Edwin Land, who invented the camera.  But the story about its intended appearance is, according to online encyclopedia Wikipedia, untrue.  However, one look at the building is enough to make one doubt the “truth.”

(photo: The Kidder Smith Images Project)

After reading Fred O.’s fine list, I thought I’d compile a list of my own, in which I attempt to spread the word about a few worthwhile albums that haven’t received much attention.

Amon Amarth – Twilight of the Thunder God
Sure, 2008 was the year I discovered Philly Soul (thanks, Fred O.). But, it’s also the year I discovered Scandinavian metal. And I can’t think of two more disparate genres of music. This little gem by Amon Amarth is a fine example of the form, with raging slabs of guitar, blast beat drums, and low, guttural vocals singing songs about Vikings. A pretty far cry from soul music indeed, but if you can open your ears to it, it’s certainly catchy… in its own special way.

Bob Mould – District Line
Not since the days of Sugar or Hüsker Dü have I gotten so much out of listening to a Bob Mould record. After delving into electronica on his last couple solo discs, Bob is back to making rock records again. And somehow his music sounds all the better for having taken the detour. District Line also finds Mould in full confessional mode, with tracks like “Again and Again” and “Stupid Now” spilling the beans on failed relationships and growing older.

Umalali – The Garifuna Women’s Project
It seems I had only just discovered Andy Palacio and his wonderful album Wátina when I heard of his tragic passing last year. And just when I thought I’d never hear more sweet sounds coming from Belise, this record shows up on the radar. Young Belizean producer Ivan Duran (Wátina) has been working tirelessly to keep the Garifuna movement alive, and The Garifuna Women’s Project is latest fruit of his efforts.  The album is awash in the same wonderful Afro-Caribbean sounds as Palacio’s music, only these songs exhibit the voices of the fabled women of the tribe, keeping their culture alive through song. This is a wonderful project and an uplifting and rewarding listen from beginning to end.

Neon Neon – Stainless Style
The project of Super Furry Animals frontman Gruff Rhys and producer Boom Bip, Neon Neon kicked off its career with this album, a concept piece about the life and exploits of auto industry titan John DeLorian. With sly references to Back to the Future and Star Wars, as well as stylistic allusions to the 80’s music of DeLorian’s heyday, Stainless Style is an endlessly fun album that takes you on a journey into the mind of an innovator. Gruff’s vocals are in finer form than on any Super Furry Animals album in memory, and seem to work better stretched over a bedrock of 80’s dance beats and hooky choruses. Stainless Style is like the DeLorian DMC-12 itself - futuristic, fast, sexy, and with lots elements thrown in just for show.  Gull-wing doors not included.

The holidays are about traditions as much as anything else, and my family had a particular way to celebrate them.  While I was growing up, our house was the evening stop on Christmas Eve for relatives and friends, who would congregate in the late afternoon and early evening for a meal centered on the contents of two very large pots on my mother’s stovetop.  One contained pinto beans, soaked and seasoned for a couple of days, and piping hot.  The other contained her wonderful chili, a crock-pot treatment of which I have perfected over the ensuing decades.  The meal also had a few other key ingredients.

Tortillas?  Check.

Sweet green chili cornbread?  Check.

And the secret weapon…the chiles rellenos casserole.

It was a memorable feast that rarely happened more than once a year.  It was no wonder that our house was the last stop of the day for most of the attendees; after that bounty, it was tough to move anywhere else but towards home.  I can remember many a member of my extended family crapped out on their backs on the living room floor, moaning, for an hour or two after eating that meal.

This year, I found myself in a position to cook the Christmas meals, and these feasts came immediately to mind.  I had never made either the casserole or the cornbread, and decided to try them both.  I am proud to state that the entire meal turned out beautifully and was a tremendous hit, and may very well have re-established my Mom’s Christmas Eve Mexican food feast as a new tradition in my house.

(photo: spitballarmy.com)

In the spirit of giving, here is the chiles rellenos recipe that I inherited from my mother, with my edits added in square brackets:

CHILES RELLENOS CASSEROLE de Dolores

Ingredients:
1½ lb. jack cheese
1 cup milk
3 eggs
3 tsp. flour
2 cans (about 7 oz.) whole Ortega green chili peppers [Next time, I will use three cans, just to pretend that I'm getting more green vegetables.]
a dash of salt
a dash of pepper

• Cut the cheese (!!) into strips about ¼ inch thick and 2 inches long.  [You can play with that measurement, of course, as the cheese will melt while cooking.]
• Clear the seeds from the peppers. [I did not do this, as I like the taste of the seeds.  These peppers are not jalapeño-hot, but have a roasted, rustic taste to them, and their seeds are not "the enemy."]
• Cut the peppers into 3 thin strips.  [I also suggest patting the peppers good and dry.  I did not do this, and the water from the peppers made the first cut into the casserole really watery.]
• Put repeated layers of cheese and peppers into a greased 9″ x 9″ casserole pan.  [Glass or Pyrex works best.]
• Beat the egg whites until stiff.  [That's not nearly as fun as it sounds.]
• Add flour, salt and pepper and beat.
• Add milk and egg yolks and beat again.
• Pour the mixture over the cheese and pepper layers in the casserole pan.
• Bake in the oven at 350 for 45 minutes. [I cooked my dish for close to an hour, which gave the top of the dish a thin, brown, crusty cheese coating that contrasted nicely with the soft texture of the body of the casserole.  It tasted really good, too.]
• Let stand at least 15 minutes to allow setting.
• Cut into squares and serve with all of that other good stuff you’ve been preparing.

This dish tastes profoundly great with an icy bottle of Dos Equis, or a hearty and robust red wine.

I also found that if there is any left over the next day, it tastes great heated and rolled in a flour tortilla burrito-style.  Yum!

For dessert - back in the “old” days - we would enjoy my Granny’s empanadas, which she stuffed with sugary refried beans.  I know that sounds totally bizarre and unappetizing to anyone who’s never tried them, but it was one of the best things I’d eat all year until the following Chrismas or, maybe, Easter.  Does anyone have a good and tested recipe for that?