James Rising

Farmers Market

The folks at my grocery store gave me a calendar. It says something about food for all seasons and sure enough there are loads of pictures of scrumptious looking foods. Of course I know the real reason for the largesse on the part of my food vendor. The thing is stuffed full of coupons, dated so I have to visit often to take advantage of the big savings. That’s OK. I would have stopped in anyway.

But the calendar is really a work of art. The pictures are somewhat coordinated with the seasons. Back in January it was soup being pictured. February it was a big bowl of chili. I must admit I paged ahead to look at the perfect golden brown turkey on the November page. But right now there is fruit being pictured. In June there were plump juicy looking peaches and July features watermelon. Nothing against my local supermarket. They do a great job and now even have beer for sale, if you can stand the price. And the fact that you can only buy 12 cans at a time.

But honestly, one of the true joys of living here during our short span of summer (94 days from June 21st to September 22nd if I counted right) is eating stuff that is pulled out of the ground near where I live. Now I don’t care to get into a discussion with anyone from Pittston about tomatoes. I am sure they are great there but I don’t really know. That’s because I go to the farm stands close to my house in Dallas.

I also visit the farmers market that appears this time of year in the parking lot of the Back Mt. library. The tomatoes there are just perfect for me. If there is a better meal than homemade bread, salt and a big ripe local tomato I have yet to find it. In the middle of deep and dark December I dream about baby yellow squash, dark sweet cherries and blueberries bursting with juice. And now it’s here, but it’s like the days are in fast forward mode. Blink and no more good stuff from the dirt. Soon enough it’ll be apples and pumpkins and then it’s back to eating tomatoes that taste like the packing material they came in.

I think the local stuff costs a little more. I am not too sure because, well I really don’t care. If I pay a little more to keep my supplier

(read: farmer) in business so he can grow vegetables that taste like they should, then I am fine with that. I saw a bumper sticker that said; don’t curse the farmer with your mouth full. Works for me.

This is what hurricane “Irene” looked liked in my e-mail.

Of course the alerts were usually after the fact, and were coming in on my smartphone as for most of the time we had no AC.

What would I do If I had all the money in the world? All I ever needed?

After taking care of my relatives.

After renting my current house to an large ethnic group that will annoy my goofy neighbor to death.

After establishing my new home on a distant island where the temp is always 72 degrees and the humidity is always low.

I would be happy.

That is the Chinese aircraft carrier ex-Varyag.

Wikipedia says:

The 67,500 ton ex-Soviet aircraft carrier Varyag (Admiral Kuznetsov class), which was only 70% completed and floating in Ukraine, was purchased through a private Macau tourist venture in 1998. Since her troublesome tow to Dalian shipyard, the carrier has undergone a long refit. Varyag was stripped of any military equipment as well as her propulsion before she was put up for sale. News reports state that she is being refitted to be returned to operational status.

On 10 August 2011, it was announced that the refurbishment of Varyag was complete, and that it was undergoing sea trials.

The picture, from the NY Times show the Chinese working on the ship.

Maybe it doesn’t scare you. Certainly it will be years before the Chinese get up to speed on the high seas.

Won’t it?

Rant D’Jour Don’t Worry, Be…

The Lincoln Lawyer (2011) R 118 min

I am reviewing here on Tuesday mostly just to keep my chops up. Mostly movies, mostly older ones and I am under no misconception that ANYONE turns here to decide on their viewing or reading. I watch and read what I like. So most of my reviews are positive.

The Lincoln Lawyer sucked.

Too bad because the book, penned by one of my favorite mystery writers, Michael Connelly, was terrific.

The basic issue was every character in the film was horribly, almost comically miscast, as least using the book as a guide. I understand the willing suspension of disbelief concept. But asking us to buy Matthew McConaughey as the Lincoln Lawyer Mick Haller is just too much to bear.

Ok, so maybe the film does not have to model the book. The problem is that in the book Haller is street smart, book smart and a likable rogue. In the movie he is doofus.

It gets worse.

Marisa Tomei as Maggie McPherson, Hallers ex-wife, in the book is a strong, sexy opinionated woman. Maggie McPherson in the movie is a dumb brunette.

Ryan Phillippe as the villain, Louis Roulet is a scary mother in the book. In the movie you find it hard to believe he is capable of hurting anyone. It just doesn’t wash.

The country music singer, Trace Adkins does a turn as Eddie Vogel, one of the Lincoln Lawyers Hell’s Angels clients. It’s so badly done as to be almost laughable. Instead it’s just sad.

Director Brad Furman (Cry Macho (pre-production)2007 The Take) did the obviously weak screen play by John Romano no favors. His direction must have consisted of “Action, good job, print.”

Mom said try to find the good. Lukas Ettlin the Cinematographer did some very nice work. We probably would have enjoyed it more if someone like Jeff McEvoy, Editor hadn’t been involved with his heavy handed slash and cut style.

I want two hours of my life back.

Rant D’Jour Music sells…out.

I’ve always disliked it. I can understand why they do it but nonetheless it makes me uneasy to think that the work of genius can be reduced…more

I’ve always disliked it. I can understand why they do it but nonetheless it makes me uneasy to think that the work of genius can be reduced to a technique to shill a product. In general anytime art meets advertising I think it’s a bad idea but especially when its music. Lucky for Picasso and Monet or god forbid Dali their work doesn’t readily lend itself to selling deodorant or feminine hygiene products.

The works of the immortal Bard and even Edgar Allen Poe have upon occasion been used to make products more attractive. But music and Madison Avenue have always seemed to go hand in hand. Up until now I have just sort of gritted my teeth and put up with it. Even the Beatles songs haven’t been spared from this aural assault. As long ago as 1985 the first Beatles song was used in a commercial, “Help” (sung by the Beatles themselves) was used in a commercial for Ford.

But last night hearing John’s “Come Together” as the background music for a department store featuring ninnies cavorting around like they were inflicted by St. Vitus dance syndrome was just too much for me. Now I am sure this is a fine department store. The models dancing looked very stylish. But they should all rot in hell for taking money for prostitution of a song. Is that a law? Could it be? It should be.

I know, Beatles songs have been used to pitch everything from diapers to sneakers. But it still bothers me. It bothered the Beatles too.

“If it’s allowed to happen, every Beatles song ever recorded is going to be advertising women’s underwear and sausages. We’ve got to put a stop to it in order to set a precedent. Otherwise it’s going to be a free-for-all. It’s one thing when you’re dead, but we’re still around! They don’t have any respect for the fact that we wrote and recorded those songs, and it was our lives.”

-George Harrison November 1987.

Other than decomposing George must be spinning in his grave like a lathe. I am sure there are moments when Paul McCartney must wonder what circle of hell he stumbled into that let Michael Jackson control his songs.

I’ve always admired what Jim Morrison did when the Doors were asked to lend “Light My Fire” to a car commercial. Buick proffered $75,000 to hawk a car. As the story goes the other band members agreed while Jim was out of town. He came back and went nuts. He called up Buick and said that if they aired the ad, he’d smash a Buick on television with a sledgehammer.

I would have paid to see that.

I have been working mostly out of the house now since 2009. I wrote a lot about that at first but now it seems normal.

More or less.

The guys came to tarp the roof yesterday. Or at least to look at tarping the roof. Irene blew big holes in it, apparently, as we now have leaks in several ceilings. I will never see the roof unless I grow wings or someone takes a picture. I am not a ladder sort of guy.

Back up slightly. The insurance adjusters also arrived yesterday. In a driving rain storm that included a lightning strike that I think was right next to us. They (the insurance guys, from Kansas) declined to inspect the roof or anything else for that matter. They will return Tuesday (tomorrow) but suggested strongly that I get the roof tarped. Right away. Before they come back. There is a reason for this but I will get into that in another post.

One of the guys who tarps the roof is an old acquaintance of mine. The roofer is his neighbor who he dragged up here on a moments notice. Sean has been my pool maintenance guy for 30 years or so. He has done some other projects for me as well. Sean is a jack-of-all-trades. Owns a funeral home. Teaches. Does pools. Works his ass off and is a real nice guy.

What in the world does this have to do with working out of the house you may ask at this point? Fair question.

As Sean and his roofer neighbor examined the damage on the Rising ranch I told Sean that I planned not to teach this semester. He looked at me and said “Oh, that’s too bad. You’ll lose your socialization.”

It did get me to thinking and examining how my life has changed since becoming a “techno-serf” and not leaving the house very much.

There are a number of reasons why I have decided not to teach. The job I am doing has VERY long hours sometimes. Even if they are at home it’s a long day. I was using the days off from the regular job to teach. It meant that for very long stretches I got no days off.

I really like teaching, for the most part. Initially the problem of no days off was a decent trade-off for some side benefits. The teaching paid me. I got to take classes for free. I met some interesting characters. There were also more than a few students who were outright pains in my ass. And I have a big ass.

So when some circumstances came up and my full-time at-home job offered a bit more money and responsibility I found a replacement for the classes I was teaching and waved buh-bye.

How will this change my life? Sean is right in that I will probably not get as much socialization. This worries me about as much as social diseases worry the Hell’s Angels. For the most part I hate people. I like to watch them, write about them but mostly I could do without 99% of the humans I encounter. Being trapped in a classroom for hours at a time with some pricks that I would rather not spend a minute with is not my idea of fun. True the good kids out numbered the pricks. But the pricks were annoying the hell out of me.

I have noticed that getting out of the house to go someplace is a bigger pain in the butt than before. I have to shower. Put on clean clothes. Comb my hair. Sheesh!

When I went to school two days a week it was a big pain too. I would procrastinate until I had to drive like one of those maniacs I hate on the road to get there on time.

I am conflicted still about this. I certainly think I can go back to teaching if I so choose. Right now I am digging having a five day/night work week too much.

Jury is out. But if I was betting man…

The Rant D’Jour is about mistaken identity. On a t-shirt.

The woman probably was just having a senior moment. I have many myself. I walk into…more

The woman probably was just having a senior moment. I have many myself. I walk into a room and for the life of me I can not remember why. Or things that should not go into the refrigerator end up in there. So far not my shoes but occasionally the car keys. But I digress. Also a part of that whole deal, digressing. In any case she looked at my t-shirt and said “Who is that on your shirt?”

I had to think about what I had on. Summer uniform for me is t-shirts and shorts and I have a lot of shirts. I am particularly fond of my Dale Earnhardt shirts, Junior and Senior so I thought maybe she was not a NASCAR fan. But on this day I had another shirt on. While I was looking down to see whose face was on my chest the woman said “I know! It’s Howard Stern. Right?” Um… well no. The lady had confused the famous photo of John Lennon wearing a New York City t-shirt for “How Weird.”

Now I have nothing against Howard Stern. I would certainly enjoy sharing the numbers on his paycheck. But mistaking John Lennon for him? Just not right.

The Beatles have been around since 1963. That’s 46 years if my weak math skills don’t fail me. Certainly enough time to know and recognize John Winston on sight. Lately the Beatles have been pushed back up the top of public consciousness. First of all the CD’s that were horribly made 20 years ago have finally been remastered. They sound so good that there is every good chance that the Beatles will top the sales charts again. At Amazon.com during the release day the entire top-10 list of bestselling music was Beatles albums. I think it’s great.

I never thought that Beatles ever sounded as good as they did on my record player. Now I know it’s not just nostalgia. The other big Beatle news is that they have now released the Fab Four as a Rock Band title. I don’t know how to feel about that. I have never played Rock Band. I am not sure that if I ever do the first thing I would choose to fumble around with would be one of their songs. I still don’t particularly like it when someone covers a Beatles tune. Seeing a ten year old take on “I am the Walrus” just seems inappropriate. Goo goo gajoob ga goo goo ga joob indeed. But I guess if it turns another generation on to the magical mystery tour that is the Beatles collected work, then maybe it’s alright after all.

That's a wrap

Monday 8/22/11

Rant D’Jour No post on 8/22 due to Irene

Blog Post Ditto

Tuesday 8/23/11

Rant D’Jour A picture this about Retro Kitchens

Blog Post Sunday wrap a few days late

Wednesday 8/31/11

Rant D’Jour A dog trapped in ice. An intepid rescuer. And epic fail.

Blog Post WEEKENDER Column – Goodnight Irene

Thursday

Rant D’Jour H2O2

Blog Post Radio DaZe – Jingles and I am Obese…

Friday

Rant D’Jour Bad Timing

Blog Post Picture This: Sprint Airave

Saturday

Rant D’Jour Get off my lawn!

Blog Post Aggregate Saturday-all the stuff that is too short for a real post.

Aggregate Saturday:

Three NASCAR night races in a row. Last night the Camping World Trucks which finished for me at midnight, tonight Nationwide, Sunday Sprint Cup.
Late nights.
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Covering sports is unpredictable to say the least. With the possible exception of Horse Racing the length of a sporting event is rarely consistent. NASCAR and most Motor-racing is especially this way. A few caution flags, a rain delay can make the difference between a 3 hour event and five hours. That’s a long ole night race.
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After having survived “Irene” last night the Weather Channel guys did me no favors by telling us that there could be TWO named storms making ladndfall this weekend. Let me up, I’ve truly had enough.
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The insurance adjuster will visit on Sunday. I predict we get nada. In my insurance policy fine print it lists a “Tropical Storm/Cyclone” deductible. $3250 or 2%…not sure 2% of what. 2% of screwed, I guess.
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Maybe we will be declared a “Disaster Area” and FEMA will chip in to pay my deductible.

Maybe Pigs will fly.

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GOOGLE Analytics still sucks, mmm k?

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I used to only believe the radio ratings when they made sense. Really really big numbers or abrupt drops in numbers screamed “sample error” to me. What do I think about GOOGLE Analytics?

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I am certain Mr. Google couldn’t care less.
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How bad is my memory? I just bought my college yearbook. On E bay. Paid too much for it but I really, really wanted it. Too bad it’s from my Freshman year. Doh!
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Went to the Chinese buffet yesterday. Was VERY comforted to see all the kicthen workers piling on plates full of chow. I always sort of wonder about the food in those joints, but I guess if they eat it….
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Someone once told me that Chop Suey means “Garbage for the hogs” in Chinese. I can find no evidence to support this. But I fully believe it.
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I am on less than five hours sleep here. Lucky for me I think I can squeeze in a nap before my shift.
Off to do battle with the yard sale circuit.

Rant D’Jour Clint had it right!

Sometimes I think I am developing “Clint Eastwood” disease…more