Twitter and Facebook – A Recommendation

I awoke to the news that a long-time friend had just announced his departure from Facebook. He’d left with a flourish by posting a cogent yet slyly critical picture of famous American icon and early television journalist, Edward R. Murrow, headlined with his famous sign-off quote “Good Night, and Good Luck.”

As is my habit in all things, I immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion; i.e. something I’d done or said had driven him away. Then I noticed that a 2nd friend had posted a sarcastic entreaty as to whether he’d said something to cause the departure; so I felt a little less responsible.

In that moment when I was again able to take a breath, I stepped back and analyzed what had just happened. I decided that a tectonic plate of social media had just shifted a bit and set off a slight earthquake. The chandelier swung a little bit, the dog barked, and my heart fluttered – but no real damage was done. Not long after, I received a sweet tweet (also addressed to our mutual friend) that neither of us had anything to do with his decision and that he just “hated Facebook.” Thank goodness! Everybody hates Facebook. It’s just that so few of us ever do anything about it. Besides he pointedly assured us he was not leaving Twitter.

So, a little pressure was released, with no lasting trauma. Life moves on. In the worlds of Facebook and Twitter, that’s how the cookie crumbles and, as long as we still have an internet connection to the life and times of some of our closest friends, it doesn’t matter through which outlet that occurs.

There is, however, another type of effect that’s a little more sinister, albeit longer to develop; the “drifting apart” of one or more online friends or group of friends.

Some of this happens naturally and so gradually that it’s barely noticed. You still follow each other, but daily interaction and, eventually, most interaction is gone. Sometimes, a post will elicit a comment, but you two are no longer intimate friends sharing daily information and engaging in the banal but comforting back and forth that arises from such familiarity.

Often that drifting apart occurs because the event around which you may have initially come to each other’s attention is no longer occurring or relevant. Take, as an example, America’s Space Shuttle Program and NASA. When I first joined Twitter in April 2009, that program was in full swing. I began to follow, and was eventually followed by a number of fascinating people who were connected to that enterprise in one way or another or, as I was, simply a fan. Every launch, every return, every astrotweet from space was shared and appreciated as a group experience, and friendships were formed. More than space exploration was discussed. Personal information was shared and, as often happens in any rather large office population, groups formed in which participants were either close to each other, or less close but familiar with a larger number of people and, at the outer ring, at least known to work for the same company. The diaspora triggered when that company (like the Shuttle program) closes it’s doors is profound. There is simply no longer a logical venue within which to meet and interact. Many pledges of continued contact are made, and many such pledges are broken – but few of these relationships are severed intentionally.

Not all such experiences are so benign. In some cases the withering away can be intensely personal. You’re still connected to some of the same friends, but just not interacting any more. You can’t stop the bleeding and eventually you have to accept the loss. This is one of the saddest situations. No one wants to be the first to unfollow or unfriend (well, almost no one), but it’s hard to tell which is worse; the daily pain of not being friends anymore with someone in plain view, or the all-at-once stabby pain of getting dumped and knowing there is no likelihood of ever getting that friendship back.

One of the saving graces of both Twitter and Facebook is the amazing resilience of the mix. There’s always a Twitter retweet, or a shared post to Facebook which draws someone interesting to your attention. In fact, I can say without hesitation that some of my very most interesting followers on Twitter and/or new friends on Facebook come from one of those two sources. “Click” and you may be off on a new adventure and, if you are lucky, you will have made a new friend.

When the friends I have in my physical life – friends who are not on Twitter, or even on Facebook express a certain exasperation with my interest in such things, I have given up trying to explain that Twitter and Facebook are real places, populated with real people to whom one forms real attachments. These two social media sites have become part of the lives of literally billions of earthlings and are, in their way, bring the whole world closer in the bargain.

Twitter is acknowledged to be a major source of real news from on-the-ground eyeball observers all around the world. If it’s happening – anywhere on earth or in space – it happens on Twitter first. That is, of course, a huge bonus that comes with the territory. Twitter’s real gift, however, is giving its users a platform to meet, get to know, and explore the cultural and lifestyle differences of one society, or another country. Even though I’m now retired and not required to arise at any particular time, I still get up around 4:30 am in order to tweet with friends in UK and Western Europe who are 8 or so hours ahead.

Facebook, until fairly recently, had not been my preference. The formats of Twitter and Facebook could not be more different. Both have pluses and minuses. But when a good friend moved exclusively to Facebook, I found myself far more likely to want to be there too. And, to be fair, I now consider it to be an essential venue. On Facebook I have met a substantial portion of the family I didn’t know I had. They’re all over the Northwest! I’ve seen more cute animal pictures than I thought possible. It’s wonderfully easy to explore timelines, post pictures, and to capture and share links to a wide array of informative articles on virtually any topic. I’ve been able to have wonderful group conversations; and many long private ones, with friends all over the globe. Love it or loathe it, Facebook has become indispensable to staying in touch with the world around us, and with those individuals in the world whom we hold most dear.

So, what started as a lament of potential loss has turned into an explanation of why I really love using Twitter and Facebook! I’m just going give this to my social-medialess friends, and recommend they give it a try! ;-D

Chicken & Wild Rice Soup

Thank you, Mark Oliver Hawkins (@i_am_markh) for my lovely new look!

Even though I am most often cooking for one, I do enjoy the benefits of roasting a whole chicken. Not only do I enjoy the delicious silk-like texture and the redolent fragrance of herbs in the freshly roasted meat, I have plenty of left overs for several other dishes in the coming week.

One of my very favorites is my own Chicken & Wild Rice Soup. Really fast and easy as the main ingredients are already cooked, it’s quick to prepare, and absolutely delicious to eat – even in summer.

But let’s start at the beginning: roasting the chicken. I use a stand-up roaster. Not only does this perfectly drain fat from the chicken and ensure a crispy skin, the bird cooks in half the time and to a better degree of moistness than even a rack can produce. AND, the big advantage, is the pan you place underneath will collect the herby juices and flavors as well as all the marvelous aspic (gelatin) created by the rendering skin and roasted bones. Just having the aspic is reason enough to roast upright!

The following recipe assumes you have reserved these juices in the fridge. I store mine in a simple open container like a plastic party glass, along with a layer of rendered chicken fat on top to seal the aspic from the air. It stays fresh for a week.  If you need to keep it longer, freeze it.  Typically a 6 lb. chicken should render about 1 to 1½ cups of aspic.

Not all the ingredients are available everywhere. I give a description of those so you can approximate them.

You will need

2 quart (1.892 L) covered sauce pan

1 Tablespoon salted butter
1 Teaspoon rendered chicken fat
½ Teaspoon of sea salt
½ Teaspoon of fresh, finely ground black pepper

Combine the butter, fat, salt & pepper in the pan and apply heat sufficient to melt the oils.

1/2  Medium sweet onion (.1134kg)
1  Good sized stalk of celery (about the same volume as onion)
8-10 Baby carrots
Add the reserved chicken aspic
(Optional) 5-6 Medium Crimini mushrooms, or your personal favorites

 Fine dice onion, celery & carrots; add to pan, and increase heat.
Reserve the aspic to add after onion is a bit translucent

2 Cups of diced chicken
1 26 oz container of Swanson Chicken Stock
1 Teaspoon “Simply Organic” All Purpose Seasoning
1 Teaspoon (or to taste) Tabasco sauce
1 Tablespoon or more of “Ocean Spray Dried Sweetened Cranberries”
(Optional) 1 Teaspoon “Bob’s Roasted Raspberry & Chipotle Sauce”

Recommended: ½” dice of thigh and leg meat.
Add container of chicken stock, and flavorings;
Reduce heat and simmer for 10-15 min

One package “Uncle Ben’s precooked Whole Grain Medley-Brown & Wild”
8.5 oz. (240g)

Add the rice mix last, stir to break up then simmer
 for another ten-15 minutes. Adjust seasonings
This is the time to adjust seasonings to taste

That’s it! Bon Appetit

 

CUTTING THE TIE THAT BINDS

DAY ONE: Panic Attack

Our bunker-like City Building

It was a little after 4:00 p.m. on Friday, May 30, and I was happily wending my way through the 3rd floor of our town’s City Hall, on my way to a meeting with someone I’d been trying to hook up with for a week. I hadn’t expected their call, but when it came, I quickly changed into more appropriate attire and raced downtown.

Afterward, as I was leaving the parking lot, my car received a call (hands free calling and answering over your car sound system is really just the best!)  The call was from the daughter of my mostly Spanish speaking landscaper, calling to report that her dad was waiting at my house as he and I had agreed days earlier. He was to begin planting some new roses, as I can no longer do such tasks. Since we had not yet discussed where I wanted them to go, the daughter was preparing to relay that information to him. Turns out that was unnecessary. I didn’t realize how unnecessary until I returned home.

I have a satellite TV system. The original installers had chosen an open line of site position about 70′ from the house, and buried the cable roughly 8″-12″ below the ground, leading to the corner of my garage, where it enters my house.

I have never and do not now plan to plant anything in that thin strip which holds the cable. In fact, until recently, that path was marked by a line of bricks laid end to end. They were placed there by my landscaper, and eventually removed to another task – but he still knew where that line was.  For reasons that I cannot fathom, while he awaited my arrival, he decided to dig a large hole for one of the new roses,  right on top of the satellite cable, in an area which I thought he knew was not to be disturbed.

You can probably fill in the blanks. Razor sharp post hole digger + very strong landscape professional versus 1″ flat cable, buried not so deep as thought, and apparently made of angels wings and faerie dust! Opps.

DirectTV was very nice about it, assuring me that it happens all the time, and scheduled their earliest afternoon appointment for repair on Sunday, June 1st – 2 days out.  TWO DAYS!!

2 days without the streaming download of background TV.  2 days without Brian, Rachel, Candy, Wolf, Ed, PBS, Comedy Central and (gasp) BBC_America!

“Yes, Sunday will be fine!” I heard myself saying. The call terminated and I sat there, in my silent living room, listening to my heart beating. Or the clock ticking.  One of those.

What was I to DO? It was nearly 6:00 p.m. I was missing the NEWS! The next three hours are just a blur. I completed making dinner and I remember eating it. I went outside and watered a few things; then sat in the chair I’d placed under one of my apple trees.  I sipped at my glass of Riesling in the twilight. I sat at my computer and tried experimenting with TV on the internet. It’s a pale comparison, and the streaming charges will put you into bankruptcy – so none of that.  Dinner dishes to do – Thank you! – and then a bit of tweeting and Facebook.  9:00 p.m. rolled around more quickly than I thought, but I wasn’t complaining!

As I lay there, drifting off to sleep, I wondered what the hell I’d do until 9:00 pm or 10:00 pm on Saturday! Brian, Rachel, Candy, Woooolz z z z z Z Z Z Z Z.

DAY TWO: Lingering

Fortunately, there is nothing on TV on Saturday morning. Never has been. So the first half of the morning went along at a perfectly normal pace, minus the background buzz. I did notice though, that not having the TV turned on all the time meant that I was not subliminally aware of it and on constant alert for any interesting news development or even a new commercial. I had not realized how often I found myself leaving a task, even something I truly love like cooking, in order to more closely observe whatever was happening on that screen.

Saturday was largely spent lingering over my tasks, mundane as they were. More garden watering, but without time pressure. A bit of weeding. Clipped off some of the bumper crop of baby apples on the tree I sat under the night before.  Big laundry – not just what I must have in the next five days, but everything I thought might need a pick-me-up. While I was at it, I cleaned out my closet of nearly 30 items to take to a consignment store or straight to Goodwill.

As I proceeded through the day, I kept in touch as I usually do with my friends on Facebook and Twitter and I think I was spending just a little more time on both because I “could.”  Nothing else was demanding my time. I was fully into lingering and this point!

By the time night began to truly fall, around 9:30 pm, I got ready for bed and realized that I’d been as busy as I wanted and fairly effective all day.  More importantly, I felt calmer and more rested than any time recently. Not having the constant distraction of the TV turned on, even though I told myself it was only “in the background,” I had been freed from the subtle psychological prison that TV often creates.

“Hey! Look at me RIGHT NOW or you’ll miss THIS!” it begs. But I could not; and, I didn’t miss it as much as I thought.  That lesson will linger for a while.

DAY THREE: Redemption

The guy from DirecTV arrived just after noon, as promised. Same installer I had before. We agreed on another, less vulnerable path and he re-installed new cable along the new route in under an hour.

We had to reprogram the TV from inside and so it was on for around 30 minutes. But he’s gone now, and I’m busy writing this blog and refilling the bird feeder, so I turned the TV off again.

Maybe later. I’ll check back after Antiques Road Show to see if there’s anything happening, ;-D

Real Food

“Everything in moderation, including moderation.” ~ Oscar Wilde

Famous chef Julia Child, television icon, food author and the person who, next to my mother, taught me the most about how to cook, was roundly criticized by nutritionists for her insistence on the use of real food, like butter and cream. She addressed these criticisms throughout her career.  In a 1990 interview Child said, “Everybody is overreacting. If fear of food continues, it will be the death of gastronomy in the United States. Fortunately, the French don’t suffer from the same hysteria we do. We should enjoy food and have fun. It is one of the simplest and nicest pleasures in life.”

I could not agree more!  Nearly 25 years later, her words are even more true and, sadly, prophetic.

I was lucky to have seen the Julia Child’s “The French Chef” TV series on PBS from the beginning and in the original.  From her I learned to appreciate the immense pleasure of preparing finished dishes from scratch, using fresh, simple foods, and time tested techniques and skills.  I’m pleased to say I can still bone a chicken without severing its joints or breaking the skin.  I habitually french tie my roasts, often with a self-assembled bouquet garni on the top. Mirepoix is a must.  I am never without the classic 3 ingredients of diced or chopped celery, carrots and onion which begins nearly every saute, soup or stew. I rely heavily on the organization of my ingredients – lining up little bowls and small plates to carry prepared and/or measured ingredients, set out in the expected order of their use.

A basic stew, for instance, requires beef chunks (chuck, with a bit of fat please) and salt, pepper and flour if beginning from raw. The aforementioned mirepoix – although cut in fairly good-sized pieces, and probably a can of good quality stewed tomatoes (I also cheat from time to time) are necesary.  Add in 4-5 good sized mushrooms, quartered; a bit of red wine (merlot); whole baby potatoes and,  2-3 cups of beef stock reconstituted from concentrate or saved from previous roasts and frozen in ice trays – or both.  sprinkle in assorted seasonings, herbs and spices, and simmer until the meat is tender, and the kitchen filled with wonderful aromas! Clean, cut, measured out, waiting in bowls until you have selected your pan, and turned on the heat. That’s how we roll.

Knowing how to cook from scratch a wonderful experience for me and for many others.  It takes no more time to cook fresh than to shop for and nuke a frozen entree, once you know the basic principles of food preparation.  Fortunately Julia’s entire original show  (1962-1973) is available online – for free.  It’s as relevant today as it was then because she’s talking about real food, and basic preparation techniques. Even Food Network can’t compete with Julia Child (nor, to their credit, have they tried.) However, our modern supermarkets seem to be working against the “real food” concept, and it’s frustrating!

Freshly sauteed 26-30 shrimp in 2-egg mixture with creme fraiche; strawberries in simple syrup with dollop of creme fraiche

For instance, I typically have a 2-egg omelette for breakfast. Sometimes I and have a serving of fresh seasonal fruit. In order to do both, I need at least ½ & ½, but prefer a heavier cream. I recently remembered that Julia devoted a substantial portion of one of her episodes to making and using a nearly solid cream called creme fraîche. It was absolutely glorious to eat (especially the sweetened variety); and, it was such a fun science project to boot!

Creme fraîche is made by starting with 1 cup (the ½ pint container) of what we call “whipping cream.” If you have a choice, and for the most part we don’t, get the one with the highest percentage of milk fat. You will also need completely plain, relatively high fat yogurt. Good luck with that!  I was eventually pointed in the direction of the nutrition department of my grocer, and had far better luck there than in than in the regular dairy case – which is now virtually 100% “no” or “low” fat everything.

One of the reasons I am turning to yogurt is that yogurt also has live bacteria cultures similar to those in buttermilk, which are necessary to achieve the desired end result. But, whole buttermilk does not seem to be available anymore  I’ve found that a good natural yogurt is just as efficient.

If you choose to make creme fraiche, allow the cream and yogurt to reach room temperature by setting them on the kitchen counter over night.  Once you achieve room temperature, pour the cream in a super-clean (glass only) jar with tight lid. Add 2 tablespoons of the yogurt. If you want it sweetened, add a teaspoon of granulated real sugar. Close jar, shake vigorously to blend and place it in a location where it will stay just slightly above 70̊. It should set up in 12 to 24 hours. When it does, it will happen quickly. Put it in the fridge to stop the process. Google creme fraîche for further guidance.

RANT

What has happened to “real food?” As I mention above, I went to my favorite store – a suitably higher end mega grocery outlet.  I patronize them because they generally have a very wide array of nearly everything – all top quality, and lots of it.  Cooking for one is far easier then you cook from scratch because it is much less expensive than buying frozen or prepared items, so I can afford the somewhat higher prices at the mega-store because I’m buying less.  Recently, however, I have been disappointed by my failure to find certain foods at any price.

I am being driven mad by the overwhelming favoritism shown to “no” or “low” fat foods. Sugary crap is still available, so it isn’t the nutrition police who are on the march. But, even so,  fat has begun to disappear in such universal quantities that it risks leaving behind only the dry husk of a memory of taste.

Fat is not the enemy; over consumption of fat is. Fat carries a lot of the flavor of a dish containing the meats or dairy products from which is derived.  The choice to have access to foods with naturally occurring fats needs to be mine, and yours.  But, instead,no matter where you shop, every roast is trimmed within an inch of its life. Only a brisket has any fat attached anymore, and I expect that to disappear any day now.  Dairy is no better.  Thank goodness you can still buy butter!  In the dairy aisle I counted 17 different brands or types of yogurt, all with sugary fruit flavors and few, if any, grams of fat.  Moving on with my shopping,  I went to the canned aisle to pick up tuna, and found they no longer carry the “packed in oil” style in any of 5 brands!

Here’s the irony. You know where I found the plain, real food, actual fat content yogurt that I needed to replace the real buttermilk I could not find? The Nutrition Department, that’s where!

You want less fat in your diet? EAT∙LESS∙FAT! But for those of us who want the option to have a little more taste and gloss and smoothness in some things, or find a pat of butter useful as a finish to a sauce, we should be able to purchase and use Real Food, before we all forget what it tastes like.  Trust me, “Swanson” or even “Stouffers” has never heard of it!

PAUSE . . .

I’ll set this aside for now, and save the rant for another day.  I intend return to the subject in my next blog.  I think I’ll have more to say, then, about food education in general; learning to cook from scratch with real foods; and where our food comes from and why your life depends on knowing that! As Julia would say “Bon appetit!”

A View From Leftpondia

So, British Prime Minister David Cameron is poised to impose a nationwide ban on pornography accessible through the internet. Before you rush to judgment or get all bent out of shape about freedom of speech and privacy rights, you should know that his proposal contains an option to allow you to continue to view pornography on your computer: you simply have to request that you be allowed to do so. Officially. On a form to be provided. A form which will undoubtedly be coded and committed to permanent residence in your “record.” Information which may one day be used to determine whether you should employed in certain fields like teaching, for instance, or any occupation in which contact with a minor may occur. Or any occupation . . .period.

Apparently, Mr. Cameron and his minions have, unlike nearly every other government in Europe, successfully devised an all encompassing definition for internet pornography that will be able to unfailingly identify that which is pornographic from that which is not.

For instance, the word “breast” used as a search term will, I assume continue to allow access to cancer prevention and treatment sites, breast self-examination information (including videos) and other female health offerings – right?

And “penis” as a search term will result in articles on prostate cancer. erectile dysfunction (the infamous “ED”), as well as updates on the Anthony Weiner sexting scandal which, while pretty prurient, are at least real news?  Pretty sure. (cough)

Several articles have already appeared through links on Facebook and Twitter detailing the many ways computer nerds & geeks will be able to easily program their way around this orgasm of moral superiority. But a majority of people do not have such skills.  So what about the bloke down to the pub; puts in his 40 and expects a little release at the weekend? How about that 35-something married couple who find it fun to view a little naughty on the lap top once the kids are down for the night? How about YOU? You don’t have to answer that.

And therein lies the point: YOU DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER THAT, or you shouldn’t have to do so. “Please sir, can I have more? http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=sZrgxHvNNUc Wot? WOT? Can I have more Internet Pornography, sir?  Yep, this option thing is destined to be really popular!

Now, just in case your head is already spinning at the audacity of the Talibanesque burka Cameron is attempting to throw over adult entertainment on the internet, and with a nod to those late night infomercials, “Wait, there’s more!”

A visit to the Facebook page of Ultraculture provides additional information on Mr. Cameron’s intention to also universally block sites which specialize in or emphasize “ . . . violent material, extremist sites, pro-anorexia and pro-suicide sites, alcohol, smoking, web forums (?!) and even… esoteric material. – See more at: http://www.ultraculture.org/uk-to-censor-esoteric-websites/#sthash.QONEi5Jw.dpuf Beyond being able to even define some of these categories of concern, I predict the the ISP’s who will be responsible for keeping this undefined information from prying eyes (yours) will be hiring lots of . . . . replacements!

That bit of levity aside, read the comments on the referenced article: One in particular struck my eye. I leave off the name of the contributor as I have no desire to cause anyone further difficulty for anyone. In essence the writer said:

“Hitler did the same… HE work in small steps, first was the Jewish passport status and then was the holocaust before they knew it. All because it only got worse gradually, they didn’t realize it was happening. What if its happening now? I am [not] implying that he wants to gas people but history repeats itself. If we fail to learn from it- history is repeating and before we know it, our freedom will no longer be as we know it”

From far across the Pond, I’d always viewed Britain as the ultimate nanny state. This was largely due to the general misunderstanding of the once amazing National Health Service (NHS). Cradle to grave health care, essentially “for free” seemed too good to be true. Of course, it wasn’t for free, and it was ultimately too good to be true. In order to “help” the British people better understand just how true, Mr. Cameron’s Tory government, like Thatcher before him, has now almost finished the work of reducing NHS to a shadow of its former self; and, for good measure, has sold off most of the best parts to his Harley Street constituents. However, still feeling the need to nanny, Mr. Cameron has now helpfully devised the ‘Protect Them From Porn And Every Other Bad Thing As I Decree It To Be” scheme to fill the void. You feel better already, right?

Dara and Bloo

The Forward

The following is a repost in other media of a fictional work first published on Twitter.

A little explanation is in order for the following experimental “Twitbook,” I published on Twitter in late July and early August 2009, serial fashion, one chapter per day, every day, for two weeks.

I decided to write it within the restrictions of the 140 character format on Twitter. The result is a form which contains 14 chapters, each with 10 passages, and each passage containing as close to 140 characters as art would permit. A total of approximately 3,360 words. The form was as much a part of the exercise as the story. The whole experience was fun, and I encourage you to try it yourself, or invent a new form that fits. The one proviso is that it has to be published on Twitter as a series of tweets, not linked to it. Have fun!

The story itself begins in the future and ends in the very far future. It follows the experiences and consequences of a “first contact” between 10-year-old Dara Branson of Earth; and a young alien from a distant galaxy, ultimately named Bloo by his new friend. The story follows them, and eventually their respective descendants through several centuries of co-existence, conflict and eventual trust and friendship.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think; your comments will help me grow as a writer, and that’s what I’m looking forward to the most!

Chapter 1 ~ The Discovery

When you say the words out loud, “57 years” seems like a long time. It’s no time at all in the scheme of things. I know. I’ve lived them.

It was July, a week after my 10th birthday. I received a Barbie doll and an Erector Set. Barbie seemed more complicated; I choose the Set

Cool in the shade of the County’s version, the Set & I were wasting time dreaming of the bridge we’d build across the stream.

The water was at its summertime low & made crossing easy. I was about to do just that when I noticed the deepening red stain in the water.

“A fish kill” I thought. A trout or a gar had met its fate in the claws of a hawk, or one of those elusive cougars that I had yet to see.

As I picked up my toy and hiked up my jeans to cross, I noticed that the red stain was getting much bigger – way too big to be fish blood.

I wasn’t scared. I’d seen a deer bleed out when it was dressed by my Dad and, even though it’s not a pretty site, it seemed natural to me.

“Some stupid city-boy hunter!” I thought in disgust. They never paid attention to their kill; just “shoot & hoot” as my Dad used to say.

I didn’t step into the water. I just stood there waiting for it to clear. But it didn’t. It was then that I first heard the sound.

Even now, all these years later; being accustomed to that sound, as we all are, I still feel the terror it ignited in me that first time.

Chapter 2 ~ The Gift

My name is Dara Branson. For 57 years I’ve lived with the knowledge that my act of kindness on a day in July 2024 cost mankind its freedom.

Terrified as I’d been by the bloodied waters of our stream, and the horrifying screech I’d heard, my child’s curiosity got the better of me.

I made my way upstream following the still evident blood. The screeching stopped after three painful bursts. I was a little scared now.

At the first bend, I smelled an odor like the lavender in our field; but not like exactly like it. The smell was soothing and I pressed on.

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with strange emotions: grief, fear, rage, loneliness, pain. I recognized the pain; it nearly crippled me!

I felt myself drawn to a small gully which, in winter, drained the field above. There lay the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

Its arms & legs looked like my own. Its torso was very long and slender, its head rather too large and its skin a pale opalescent blue.

Without understanding how, I heard its voice! “Help me.” It turned its head & I saw its enormous lidless eyes. I must have fainted.

When I came to, it was standing above me. I felt calm and fearless. “Help me” came the familiar sensation. I got to my feet and complied

It held out its hand. I gently took it and led my new friend up the gully, across the field and into out house. My mother fainted.

Chapter 3 ~ The Kindness

My new friend had gradually become stronger as we walked together to the house. My mother eventually recovered too. We called him Bloo.

Mother was scared of Bloo, but she knew I wasn’t & tried to show off her confidence. I think Bloo understood; he avoided looking at her.

Looking back from my present perspective, I recognize the arrogance of thinking Bloo was a male. turned out I was only half wrong through.

I didn’t know how to care for Bloo. He didn’t eat; didn’t really seem to have a mouth either. Brushing my teeth definitely frightened him

We didn’t talk but I often felt like he understood exactly what I was doing or wanting. Once he picked an apple before I knew I wanted one

Soon it was apparent that he was trying to communicate with me. We sat for hours just looking at each other. Eventually, I heard him.

He was a “Cray.” They had come very far across the universe to find a world of humanoids. He didn’t say why. He admitted he was a child.

Something had gone wrong with a method of transport from their ship to the Earth below. His parents died. “They had red blood?” I thought.

He had no way to call the ship above. His father was their leader, and now dead. They would be angry with Earth if Bloo didn’t return soon.

I gave him my iPhone. It took two days but he finally figured out how to make it signal his ship. It was many years later that we met again

Chapter 4 ~ The Transformation

In the summer of the year 2025, the Earth experienced a series of upheavals that caused the catastrophic death of nearly 60 million people

Worldwide natural events, such as volcanoes, tidal waves, extreme storms on land and at sea, plus the inescapable panic, wreaked havoc.

By December of 2026 it became apparent to many of Earth’s remaining scientists that the events had not been random. Had it been an attack?

Silently and without their guards, trusted scientists gathered together to plan against what they felt certain was an alien incursion.

By early summer 2027 the scientists concluded that it had been an attack; that there were aliens in the vicinity of Earth. They had no idea.

In the meantime, a steady, nearly universal drop in the human birth rate had further debased not only the gene pool, but the world economy.

By the last days of 2030, the world’s population was less than a third of 2025. Remaining humans had gathered into 2 roughly similar groups

In five years the Cray had orchestrated a relatively simple terra forming plan of a populated world. All the assets remained, including us.

It was then the Cray came to Earth to “rescue” us. We welcomed them as liberators and friends!

They were pretty, and they smelled good. Standing on bridge of the Cray ship as it drifted lazily over the barren land once called the “USA” was an especially tall young officer

Chapter 5 ~ The Trade

Brad Avery entered the President’s office with his usual panache. He crossed to the desk and said, “Sir we can’t allow this to continue!”

The handsome young SecDef emphasized his agitation by using a little more force than necessary to set down the papers he’d been clutching

“Calm down, Brad,” Pres. Branson replied in the silken tone he used to pump money out of sow eared donors. “And, sit down, boy, sit down!”

“Sir, the Cray commander has left us with no options.” “Son, the door is closed” the President replied. The younger man looked relived

From his coat pocket he slipped a slender, hand-sized device which most people over 50 might have identified as an antique iPhone

“Dad, Cray 47 has to be returned tonight.” He handed the phone to his father, who pressed the speaker icon. As he did so, they both flinched

“I am Cray 93, Commander of the Northern District!” Even in the Translator, the tone of the Cray was aggressive. “Cray 47 will be released!”

“Brad, he’s not even a triple digit! What the hell?” “Dad, he claims to have Dara!” The President’s head fell forward into his hands

“Dara!” he whispered. “Is this true?” “Yes Dad, Dara’s been uncounted for two periods.” “Release him then! Release him now,” he commanded

Chapter 6 ~ Blasphemy

“Sec. Avery?” “Here, Raina. Do you have them?” Even in the dark of the outer air lock, Raina’s blond hair glowed as if by its own light

Yes. Sir!” she responded. “I brought 3 apples from the central repository. The Prelate was not pleased.” Brad smiled at her revelation

As she spoke, striking young Raina Doll glanced up at Brad Avery with a knowing smile. His unusual gift would be costly. This pleased her

The hiss of escaping air alerted the young couple to lower their headsets & masks. The human face was offensive to the Cray; as were humans

Brad and Raina advanced the required 3 steps then stood with their eyes averted. The airlock cycled closed. Each was shaking just a little

Raina’s hands, palms up, tight against her waist, held the precious gift. A Cray assigned to greet them advanced to face her. He struck!

The apples flew from her hands onto the ground. Her training failed & Raina uttered a short gasp and stepped back once. The Cray cried out

The Pattern of Three was broken! 3 steps forward, a trio of identical gifts, 3 as yet unspoken words of greeting. Raina’s fear damned all.

Cray 47 had returned; now Raina had insulted the Cray’s obsession with numerical order. Dara’s safe return was at risk.

Their suit translators were not designed to handle the load of multiple Cray rending the air with screams of rage. Neither were human ears

Chapter 7 ~ The Save

30 yr. old Secretary of Defense of the Northern Alliance, Brad Avery, stood with his back pressed against the closed door of the airlock

Raina Doll, 27 yr. old high priestess of The Church, and soon to be Mrs. Brad Avery, lay senseless and still in his strong arms

A Cray of unknown age was standing in front of them and, having picked up the three apples, was holding them out as if to give them back

“Don’t do it Brad!” came the sharp, and very recognizable voice of a human female. “Don’t take the apples from 86.” the voice commanded

“Dara! You’re OK?” he exclaimed. “Yes, of course I am! Bloo wouldn’t hurt me; we’ve been visiting.” she replied. “Bloo meet Brad Avery.”

So it was true! Dara Branson was the human connection to the Cray, and to their . . what? . .their king Cray 300; “Bloo” to his human friend?

Bloo stepped forward & the other Cray retreated a respectful distance. Brad noticed that Dara, nearly 70, still held one blue hand in hers

Towering over Brad, Bloo began to speak through the translator. Brad heard: “Cray 47 is safely back with his family. He is well.”

“Our mission is not served by harming these humans nor by returning their gift without cause” he intoned. “They will go back immediately!”

Bloo then looked down at Dara, who smiled broadly, released his hand and joined Brad and the awakening Raina in the opening airlock

Chapter 8 ~ The Sacrifice

“Dara! How could you believe this would work?” President Branson stood before his mother, his fists clenched in frustration and relief

“Peter” Dara said softly as she lifted her hand to her son’s face “You couldn’t know, no one could know. I knew Bloo wouldn’t harm me.”

The sounds of yelling and confusion erupted just outside the President’s office. Raina Doll burst through the doors; nearly breathless

“Dara! President Branson!” she cried out, struggling out of the grasp of a security officer. “It’s Brad, he’s entered Transition! Hurry!”

Both Dara Branson and her son Peter, President of the Northern Alliance were seized in the same instant by the horror of Raina’s words

“Transition?” Peter whispered. “ It’s not time! They can’t take him this early!” He turned to his mother, his face white “Dara, please.”

“Please! Hurry!” cried Raina as she ran for the door. President Branson was right behind her. Dara calmly walked to a 2nd door & outside

She closed her eyes and felt the calm place. She felt the sensation of talking to Bloo. “Help me” she thought. “I will” he responded

Raina’s tears rained down on the face of her beloved. His body stiffened then jerked awake. “Brad!” she cried. “Raina?“ he whispered

President Branson returned to his office and found Dara’s note. “My darling, I know Brad will be fine now. I love you all more than life.”

Chapter 9 ~ Life Force

The Cray’s terra forming of Earth had resulted in a severe reduction of the human population. 57 yrs later, it remained remarkably similar

Virtually all humans now alive were born during the Cray occupation. A few, like the late Dara Branson, had been there at the beginning

“Transition” ensured the Cray’s adaptation to Earth normal was sustained and that an adequate number of humans remained. Numerical balance

The Cray’s natural clairvoyance was well-known, if not understood. The telekinetic skill of the elders was less known but vital

The process was simple: a clairvoyant “cloud” of reassurance and false memory shielded the living from the absence of the soon to be dead

Some humans volunteered to transition and, in these cases the process was managed to seem more like a religious ascension to Heaven

The result was the same in either case. A human’s essence, their life force, memories and knowledge were assimilated; the body consumed

Only special cases were allowed to remain beyond the traditional 65 years. Any resistance to the process was managed through clairvoyance

Dara had been given dispensation through her remarkable relationship to Cray leader, Bloo. She & he were one now. She had not been shared

Bloo’s assimilation of Dara would have a profound effect on both the Cray, and humankind. The question was: who would see it first?

Chapter 10 ~ The Anniversary

A ceremony honoring the 5th anniversary of Dara Branson’s voluntary Transition was announced. Her family, in both populations, prepared.

Peter Branson, now relieved of the burdens of office, met Brad & Raina Avery at the air lock. Their son Geier Avery, now 3, ran to meet him

“Raina & Geier aren’t coming today, Dad.” “Why?” Peter asked, as he swept up his tow headed grandchild. “Bloo won’t be happy you know.”

“We go to the farm!” Geier blurted. “I’m swimming!” The child squirmed out of Peter’s arms & ran through the airlock door as it cycled open

Bloo came into view and was it now his turn to sweep up the child he considered his great-grandson. “Blooooo” cried Geier as he flew upward

Neither Cray nor human had yet been able find a way around the translator, except mind to mind contact. Bloo addressed his human family

“I honor your mother” he said directly to Peter, handing him 3 white scarves. In MTM, he added “I love you all more than life itself.”

Dara’s last conscious thought, the note she’d left for Peter, was part of Bloo now. Her sacrifice impacted Bloo and, through him, all Cray

Human population was on the rise. The Transition was now entirely voluntary and, with the increased population, still sustaining the Cray

A remarkable covenant had naturally evolved between humans and the Cray. Always apart; yet not separate. Completely alien; yet familiar

Chapter 11 ~ Going Home

Geier Avery and his shipmate Cray 307, nicknamed “True” stood together on the bridge of the Cray mother ship watching as Earth faded from view.

Thru transition, the Cray had developed the approximation of rather human facial features; smaller eyes, a functioning mouth and oddly, hair

When True was budded by Bloo, Geier was already spending as much time with Bloo as with his human father. Geier & True became inseparable

Humans evolved. Their nascent clairvoyant powers grew stronger. Geir showed special talent. Dara’s influence on humans & Cray continued

A message was received from the Cray home world. The need for fresh genetic material was great. The hybrid Cray of Earth would save them

“I honor your Earth.” True MTM’d, bringing his hands together 3 times to approximate clapping. “I honor yours.” Geir responded in 3 words

Both young, both yet to reach the peak of their powers, Geir and True smiled at each other as best they could. A Cray officer approached

Nearly 100 Earth years would pass before they saw each other again. Oblivious in stasis, neither would age again until then

Over the following year the Cray ship would automatically accelerate to just below the speed of light and rise above the plane of the galaxy

Engaging its own “event horizon” at a safe distance, the ship would be pulled through empty space towards Aldeberan, and the Cray home world

Chapter 12 ~ Dara’s Legacy

Remarkable changes had occurred by the 100th anniversary of the Cray’s initial revelation of their presence on Earth; and much more to come

Natural geneticists, the Cray had quickly adapted themselves to the remarkably different conditions on Earth.

Through the use of Transition, the assimilation and dissemination of human genetic material affected both species.

Humans developed the unused powers of their brain, particularly mind-to-mind contact. Cray developed functioning mouths and speech.

Transition evolved and now represented a reciprocal gift. The transition ceremony rivaled even the ancient human tradition of “marriage”

The legend of Dara Branson and her beloved Cray, Bloo, was imbedded in the very structure of the rapidly melding genome.

The Cray ship falling towards Aldeberan had eventually become a legend as well, although the memory of its crew lived on in place names.

DB37, a lovely child at the age of 10 years, sat comfortably besides the stream which bisected the popular “Branson Eternal Monument.”

In the shade of the heroic statue of her distant cousin Geier Avery and his Cray bother True, DB37 waited for her own blue friend to appear.

Suddenly DB’s heart was racing as she was nearly overcome with . . .fear! “They’re coming this way! We must hide!” came Rain’s urgent plea

Chapter 13 ~ The Others

DeeBee, as she was typically addressed, arose and turned in time to see her Cray playmate, Rain, running to her in that odd way they move.

“Tell what’s chasing you!” she demanded through thought. Her own heart continued to be effected by the emotional outpouring from Rain.

“The Others sensed out plan to meet” Rain replied. “They are not 30 strides behind me!” At this, Rain reached the side of his friend

Without hesitation, the two joined hands & ran for the relative safety of the other side of the monument. There was a small door at the base

Safely inside, the door closed and bolted, Rain and DeeBee slumped together to the floor. They both concentrated on mental control .

The Others would detect directed thought, so the young friends each concentrated on different places in the small room; not on each other

It was nearly an Earth hour before Rain could use his superior mental powers to scan the area, and found it to be safe to exit safely

The Others were, after all, impulse hunters. They had no staying power. DeeBee had once likened them to the long extinct “cheetah”

“Rain, we can always go up to the farmhouse” DeeBee said in speech. “My palm is still registered, and we could spend the afternoon inside

“I must report.” Rain thought back. “The Others may be human, but they’re dangerous must be stopped!” Even at 10, DeeBee understood why.

Chapter 14 ~ The End

Dara’s legacy eventually spread throughout the known worlds of several galaxies. The insurrection of The Others on Earth was gently put down

The eventual descendants of Geier Avery returned to Earth and became the core of the Earth’s now vast space faring fleet.

Human and Cray, unable to completely meld their still remarkably different genetic structure were able to adapt to and adopt from each other

New species were discovered; and the spirit of Dara’s child-like acceptance of someone so outwardly strange was employed to include them.

Many challenges remained; diseases not only remained, new ones seemed to arrive on each new ship. Conflicts erupted; some on Earth itself

But on the 200th Anniversary of the Voluntary Transition of Dara Branson, a grateful people spread over nearly as many planets, gave thanks

Goss Defen, a native of Zeneb II and now working in the Intergalactic Solar Observatory, was in charge of monitoring over 1,000 suns.

His observations of N57001A, a rapidly expanding star of inestimable age troubled him greatly. Close enough to harm Earth, or even Zeneb II

The pleas of this young scientist had fallen on deaf ears. An unearned confidence had overtaken the elders of both the Cray and Humans.

It would be 100 years on before the traditional ceremonies included the courageous Goss Defen in worshipful honor of heroes who saved Earth

Who ARE These People?

I personally remember President Dwight D. Eisenhower. Since high school I have been actively interested in and/or have participated at some level in nearly every Presidential cycle through the present day.

While we’ve had high drama and controversy during nearly every presidency in my lifetime, sadly nothing in my memory matches what is happening now, and has been happening since Barack Obama was first elected in November 2007.

Only two seemingly life-changing crises have arisen from more powerful events: First was “the day the music died”; the day President Kennedy was assassinated. Each of us who heard the initial broadcast of that terrible news honestly thought the world was coming to an end. I will never forget where I was standing, what I was doing when that news came over the radio – breaking into regular programming. Later Walter Cronkite’s calming voice broke as he confirmed that President Kennedy had “died, some 38 minutes ago” For several days we were a nation in complete shock. We spoke in code with total strangers, finishing each others sentences because we were all thinking and feeling the same thing. The second life-changing crisis was September 11, 2001. Different in that we were being attacked by more than a lone gunman, more divisive over time considering the paths taken as a result of the event, but nevertheless a bonding experience at first.

Each of these event and numbers of other regional or international crises served to bring us together as Americans. From the Columbia disaster to the unspeakable murders at New Town, Connecticut, our instinct has always been to hold onto the nearest of us, whether we knew them or not.

Now however, we seem to be deeply split as a nation and as a people. While a majority elected, then reelected President Obama, a virulent minority has chosen to elect representatives who have behaved with almost unrelenting hatred, racism, obstruction, incivility, disrespect over the last four years. It reached new levels (or depths) with the advent of the Tea Party in 2010. Raucous, rude, full of themselves – outliers and radicals in their own already conservative party, they have employed a universally negative counter-intuitive strategy to get what they want. Through threats to shut down the government; threats to run others of their ilk against already conservative office holders, refusal to pass virtually any legislation, excessive use of the filibuster in the Senate – to name a few – they have been able to suppress much of the President’s agenda. There is no longer any “loyal opposition.” The thuggish behavior of the far right grows more onerous and dangerous to our well-being by the day.

It is not just the political castration of the first black man in the White House which they are after, although it is clear this desire makes up an alarmingly large percentage of their agenda. They also seem to genuinely want to divide and conquer the rest of us!

Instead of making President Obama a one term president, the right’s incessant diatribe inspired even more voters to actually cast ballots for him! Don’t be fooled, its clear they have not given up their goal of his destruction in the second term. The goal posts have been moved, as they are fond of saying in Washington. But the game’s the same.

Obama’s reelection has produced an additional incentive for the right, however: now they are really pissed! They are out for political blood. If they perceive there’s an ox to be gored (read any person or anything the president likes or promotes) they gore it with glee. An example: former darling, the very popular conservative GOP Governor Chris Christie fell from grace immediately after personally receiving Obama in New Jersey after Hurricane Sandy, and accepting the federal hurricane relief he brought with him.

The President now openly remarks that he must take pains to avoid endorsing anyone or any thing he actually likes or supports because he knows the GOP radicals will punish anyone so identified, and/or shoot themselves (or us) in the foot rather than admit they too held the same position only a month or two ago. Frankly I think the President could and should use this GOP double-speak as a weapon against them.

So who ARE these people on the right who come from such a dark place? Well, for one thing, they are nascent Fascists. Look it up:

FAS·CISM /’faSHiz?m/ noun

1.     An authoritarian and nationalistic right-wing system of government and social organization.

2.      (In general use) Extreme right-wing, authoritarian, or intolerant views or practice.

Number 2 stands out, does it not? So while that basically explains the nature of the most active political opposition, it doesn’t fully explain what they want and how they intend to get there. One thing is becoming clear, America and its citizenry are not to be honored, improved or helped – but stripped, broken and carefully reassembled to their specifications.

It’s a slow process, moving society ever further right; subjugating those they can as fast as they can; always carefully employing the important buzz words which shield their motives from view: “Freedom” (but never individuality), “Independence” (but never community), “Honor” (but always of them or some authority figure). Playing in the background all the while, their own 24/7 TV propaganda machine. Bread & circuses in the modern age. Great entertainment line up; and well crafted and coordinated indoctrination along their party line. I invite you to re-read George Orwell’s prescient novel “1984.” You will find an alarming number of touchstones there.

But how did it come to this? That is the $64 question.

These protofascists, their dupes, their fellow travelers were, one must assume, elected by their constituents to represent their best interests in Congress.  Millions of seemingly normal American voters elected each of these people, one by one.

Why?  The only thing that matters at this point is the answer to that question.

Why do some people elect other people who will then act against the voters own best interests? What makes it impossible for them to see through some of these crazy candidates? Or is it that they DO see and just don’t care? We can’t proceed to heal our society unless we find the root causes for this insidious political disease.

I do not seek the elimination of conservative philosophy. On the contrary, just as you can’t know light unless you experience dark, we must have a mix of the two political forces, the progressives and conservatives, to thrive as a society. But it must be balanced. Certainly one will prevail over the other and the pendulum swing back and forth as it has throughout our history. But it must not be so long an arc that the whole-hearted participation or one side or the other is discouraged – or enshrined.

I’m sure some of you will remember an episode of the original Star Trek series in which a transporter malfunction separated Captain Kirk into two personalities. Left brain Kirk eventually became an indecisive, impotent, balling mess (Shatner-style overacting at it’s best!); while right brain Kirk was a cruel, over-confident ass! Yet, The 2 Kirks eventually realized they needed the tempering effect of the other. If they had remained separated, would have died in misery and confusion, and taken the Enterprise with them. Thanks to the genius of Gene Roddenberry, by the end the episode they’d discovered the problem, solved the malfunction and a perfectly balanced whole Kirk confidently retook his place on the bridge of the Enterprise as they flew off to another adventure.

We need to find our way back to where we belong; to a whole America.

We need to renew the shared compact of goodwill with each other, despite our outward differences, or even our innermost convictions. As I related above, it has often taken an almost alien force, an outside threat to bring us together. Our present danger is way less sexy, way less obvious and far more difficult to fix. We must try.

While we are looking for an answer to the initial question: “Who ARE these people?” we need to take a good look in the mirror.

One From Column A . . .

Sometimes I feel I want to express something in more depth than can be achieved in 140 characters. Chain tweets are irritating, and over on Facebook it’s mostly just an alien landscape of cute cats, weekend pictures and saccharin quotes that I’m sure are meant to be uplifting, but which I find quite depressing!  On the other hand Twitter is not a comfortable venue for deep thoughts either, especially if one is more widely known for chirpy chatter.

So the following will, from time to time, be a collection of imprecise, not fully formed thoughts of mine. I make no claim for them except that they are mine. A little like the Chinese food referenced in the title, I hope they will be palatable; but, I can promise you’ll be hungry again in an hour.

Twitter – Chapter 1

Talk about a love/hate relationship! On April 3rd I will mark my 4th anniversary as a member of a universe of people known as “tweeps.” I began my love affair with this experience after a very long period of personal withdrawal from contact with others and it was, in many ways, key to my awakening. When you stop looking down, and start looking up, more than just your view changes. I was truly blessed to stumble on Twitter, and to find and grow to know some of the finest and most interesting people I have ever encountered.

One of Twitter’s strongest attractions is that it is a self-directed community-building platform which, at the same time, offers you an almost unimaginably rich buffet of choices from which to select. Your personal timeline can be as broad and varied, or as narrow and focused as you like. Through the employment of lists (which took some getting used to and upon which I now rely) you can focus your Twitter time and resources with even more delicacy.

While retweets alone could populate your timeline with fascinating people and aggregators, the best way to gain truly outstanding tweeps is through personal introduction; and I had, early on, the immense good fortune of following someone who was very generous in that regard. Ironically, I lost the friendship of my mentor, but have been so proud and pleased not to have lost the good will of the core group of tweeps I gained through that experience.

If there is one life lesson that Twitter taught me fairly early in the game, and which it continues to emphasize, it’s this: While Twitter is a microcosm of real life, you have far more control. Twitter changes every day. New followers find you, and you find others too. Friends wax and wane as their own lives and interests change. It is quite literally an adapt or die proposition, except you don’t actually have to die. Have to say, though, the changes which have occurred just within the last few months are beginning to get to me. I find myself wandering away from Twitter for longer and longer period of time.

The conversations of old are a rarity now – no more two, three, four or more tweeps typing as fast as they can to keep up. That excitement only comes back rarely now that the US space program no longer launches astronauts from KSC. There are few world-wide events which generate that intense sense of a world community! I’m hoping the upcoming World Cup will be as good as the South African one, but I doubt it.

If anyone reading this is relatively new to Twitter, don’t despair. No matter what you think you have gained, Twitter will change it. And no matter what you think you have lost, Twitter will give you another bite at the apple.

Trust me, you haven’t yet imagined the people you will consider your closest pals in six months; maybe in three. And, you will likely never get over the one who walked away. All the rest is gravy. So pour it on, it won’t be hot forever.

American Politics

Right! Left! Dem! GOP! Tea Party! Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

I could leave it at that, and most of you would know exactly what I am feeling, and agree with the sentiment! There are so few opportunities to just say something quietly about the state of affairs of our union of states.

I admit I’m something of a political junkie. I proudly state that I am a Progressive. One would think that would be a good spot to be in, after an election in which a significant majority of the American People returned our Progressive president to the White House for another four years. [*Waves small American Flag*] Uh . . . not so much.

Our country is going through what, so far, seems like an intellectual civil war. I say “so far” because it often seems as if there are elements in our society who might prefer to take it one step farther. Putting aside for the moment the putrescent stench of outright racism in the air since our President was first elected, there has been another worrisome strain of dangerous mold growing in the political swamp: KnowNothingism.

It’s not exactly the same as the virulent anti-immigration, anti-Roman Catholic party of the working class whites in the Northeast and upper Midwest which found purchase in the mid-1800’s. But it is based on the same general ideas: Exclusion of “others,” reliance on authority figures to direct ones thoughts, an obsessive commitment to a rather narrow range of religious belief systems, limited education, and even less social sophistication. Yes, you guessed it: FOX viewers!

It’s easy to spot their representatives: Misogyny – usually combined with control freakery; failure to believe in climate change or outright hostility to science in general; anti tax and anti education. An element of McCarthyism appears to be slithering back into view as well. Representative Issa (R-Ca) and certainly Senator Cruz (R-Tx) are ones to watch in this regard.

As someone who is now essentially out of the labor market and dependent upon my own economic planning, the term  “golden years” is a bit tarnished.  I’m OK for now, but I can tell you that not much scares me as much as the day to day uncertainty that our elected officials are capable of addressing our needs as a nation going forward – even to the end of next month!

The only thing that terrifies me more is the inescapable fact there are millions of my fellow Americans who pulled the lever for the wrong side the last couple of times!  Without hard work and vigilance going forward, they may choose to do so again.

. . . . . (to be continued)

“Parent” is a Title of Respect; Earn It

Please come in! Forgive the dust. I haven’t been here for a while myself; “here” being my neglected blog.

The only reason I came here today is because I chanced upon a compelling article, “Sexism in the Courtroom; What’s Good for the Goose Could Send the Gander to Jail” by writer Armin Brott; 2/10/13 through his blog, Mr. Dad at http://www.mrdad.com/ask/sexism-courtroom-whats-good-goose-could-send-gander-jail . The short article contains Mr. Brott’s thoughts on the subject of what he considers judicial unfairness towards the male half of unmarried parents. What follows will make much more sense if you first read Mr. Brott’s short article.

I agree that many court systems both here in the United States and abroad in places like the United Kingdom, have sharply varying approaches to the unmarried parents of minor children. Certainly many of these approaches can be unfair in one way or another to either of the parents involved. However, I can only report that here in Oregon, we’ve evolved a pretty fair system, which attempts to genuinely equalize the role of unmarried (or no longer married to each other) parents.

Before I expand on Oregon’s approach, I must take issue with a couple of points in Mr. Brott’s article

In response to a question allegedly posed by a reader complaining of his tax dollars being given to “welfare moms with nine kids who are collecting huge government checks . . .,” and further inquiring if there “isn’t there something we can do to keep those men from getting those women pregnant?” Mr. Brott makes two claims that made me cringe:

1.

“ . . .having children is a right, not a privilege. So the idea of actually preventing a women from getting pregnant – even if she already has 9 kids – is abhorrent.”

The right involved is whether a woman wants to have children or not and, as important, when she might want this to occur. It is entirely up to her to make that decision. Effective birth control is widely available and widely used – even though some in our Congress would like to put a halt to that! It is also true that women – especially young women – often make such decisions while operating under the fog of emotional attachment to the potential father. Modern society has, rightly or wrongly, evolved to the point that so-called “traditional marriage” is indeed threatened – amongst the ranks of heterosexual couples. Even so, the formerly understood prohibition against setting aside one’s inhibitions without any verification of the good intent of the other party has all but disappeared – for both male and female. Sex has consequences! I personally believe we would be a lot better off to discourage the intersection of Ms. Liberated Vixen and Master Johnny Appleseed!

But to extol the right to unfettered, ill-advised, unexamined child production by someone who has already demonstrated her inability to make good decisions or pick responsible partners is just sad for all involved – certainly the children, and probably the tax payer!

2.

“But what puzzles me is why the right to become a parent doesn’t seem to extend to men.”

Doesn’t extend to men? What right are we speaking of anyway? A man in good health and with a little determination has the capacity to extend his fatherhood to a very large swath of the fecund female population should he so desire. So the sheer volume of opportunity to become at least a biological father is not so much a right as a likelihood – absent modern protections. A “parent” on the other hand, is not just the biological mother or father. Oregon statute attempts to describe the role thusly:

(a) “Child-parent relationship” means a relationship . . . in which relationship a person having physical custody of a child or residing in the same household as the child supplied, or otherwise made available to the child, food, clothing, shelter and incidental necessaries and provided the child with necessary care, education and discipline, and which relationship continued on a day-to-day basis, through interaction, companionship, interplay and mutuality, that fulfilled the child’s psychological needs for a parent as well as the child’s physical needs. . . .

So, at least in Oregon, if you have stepped up to the plate, you have conferred the “right” of parenthood upon yourself. Johnny Appleseed need not apply. I’m all about the responsibility. One earns the right to be called a parent.

Here in the United States our birthrate has dropped to the point that politicians are now adding “population” the list of benefits to be provided by reforming our immigrations policies. Plans are afoot to welcome populations from around the world who are seen as demographically important going forward: younger, family oriented, somewhat more socially conservative than our norm, and immediately available for duty to start popping out future taxpayers!

I wish we could have an infusion of people like many of the tweeps in my timeline. For reasons which may or may not be discussed at another time, in a blog far far away . . . . I seem to have collected a large number of 35-45-somethings, many of which are men, nearly all of which are happily married or in a committed relationship and nearly all of those are really amazing dads. There seems to be a connection between outright geekery and daddy skills. These are the men who take responsibility – not because it is imposed, but because none of them can imagine life without their precious children. They work hard to provide, but perhaps because many of them work at home at least part of the time, shared parenting is truly possible and I have not met so many outstanding parents and just plain charming couples at any other time nor any other venue.

I promised a bit of information re how Oregon views parenting. After 21 years as a legal assistant in the specialty of Family Law (Divorce, Child Custody, Child Support, Step-Parent Adoption, Grandparent Visitation, and the rapidly growing category of Unmarried Parents) I can say I think Oregon has some of the very best, and fairest domestic relations laws in the country. For those who have a desire to explore them, there are links below. Our statutes are codified, the indexes are alphabetical and then numeric as to the Chapter where the law resides. Generally:

Chapter 106. Marriage; Domestic Partnership
107. Marital Dissolution, Annulment and Separation; Mediation and Conciliation Services; Family Abuse Prevention
108. Husband and Wife Relationship; Property Rights; Premarital Agreements
109. Parent and Child Rights and Relationships
110. Uniform Interstate Family Support Act

All are reached through: http://www.leg.state.or.us/ors/home.htm

I read Mr. Brott’s original blog because I have recently been introduced to a very active movement amongst fathers, both here in the US, and United Kingdom, for “parity” with mothers in the general perception by government and private accommodation as “a parent” not just a paycheck. Issues as disparate as family leave during the first year or so of a child’s life; to the various organized venues for play dates, and mother to mother socializing that now have begun to accept daddies too; to organizing father’s groups to discuss and hopefully improve what – up until recently – has been the perception of their role as primary breadwinner secondary to the parenting and nurturing of their children.

An eloquent source for information and discussion of these and other issues relating to being a parent, and especially being a hands-on Dad can be found at http://www.dadbloguk.com

By no means is every man fit to be a parent, nor should they all be fathers. Exactly the same can be said of women as parents, although their biology is all designed to make them mothers. Harking back to the original article, Mr. Brott was also upset with a jurist who imposed an odd sentence on a man who was $79,000.00 behind in child support for four children over the past four years. Under Oregon law, that man would have had to make a gross monthly salary of $7,700, and wife, presumed to be at home with the little ones would be credited with Oregon’s current minimum wage of $1,551.33 per month. This could not happen in Oregon, since all support is collected from one’s paycheck, or public benefits, or tax return and all of the above. It would be tough to run up a bill like that in Oregon. Run the numbers for yourself on our fun and easy Child Support Calculator at https://justice.oregon.gov/guidelines/

The judge, in Mr. Brott’s example of unequal treatment before the law, sentenced the man to a 5 year period during he was not to procreate again – at all. My sentence would have been simpler – ;D

Cream of Chicken Vegetable Soup

This recipe relies on some cooking principles which I like to follow as often as possible. I am a great believer in preparation: literally every ingredient prepared, precooked (if necessary), chopped, diced, measured out and in it’s own little bowl. Those bowls are then laid out on the counter in the order in which you will use them in the recipe. I own a lot of little bowls! All this occurs before you even approach the stove unless, as noted above, you have to precook an ingredient. In this recipe you will be precooking the chicken.

PREPARATION

Chicken: A day or two before you plan to make this soup, marinate (in almost anything but barbecue flavors – I use Italian salad dressing and some favorite spices*) and oven roast a small chicken or, my favorite for soup, 4-6 good sized hind-quarters (leg and thigh), with skin trimmed but left on, and as much extraneous fat removed as possible. I find 400 degrees for 1 hour is about right.

Eat a bit of this if you want but remember, you will need to harvest 2-3 cups of solid cubed chicken meat (✔), once cooled. Highly recommend NOT cutting it up until it’s been in the fridge at least overnight. (Note: if you have those cool Zip Lock vacuum bags and the little hand-held vacuum sealer they come with, you can extend the life of the cut up chicken by another 3-5 days before use in soup.)

Mirepoix: The classic French vegetable mix of celery, carrot and sweet onion. You will need 1-1/2 to 2 cups all together, by volume (✔). Peel the carrot; use the inner celery stalks, not the harsher-flavored outer ones. Cut diagonally. These will be visible in the soup, so do your best to make them the same size. As for onion, normally I would use a good sweet onion like Walla Walla (Washington) or the southern Vidalia (Georgia). This time I used two rather beefy green onions (✔), also cut diagonally through their entire length. One additional ingredient used here is 2 Tbls of finely chopped green pepper(✔)

Liquid: You will need approximately 2 quarts of chicken stock, broth, or combination (✔). I typically use “Better Than Bouillon” paste, which is generally available. I also use, at the same time, one packet of Swanson’s Flavor Booster (I keep both chicken & beef on hand). Make liquid ahead however you want. Additional Vegetables: In this soup, because it will be creamed at the end, I like to avoid potatoes, and add something which remains fresh and crisp, and a bit sweet to the palate: canned corn nibblets. I used one 8-3/4 oz.(248g) can (✔)

White Sauce: Rather than use flour or other thickener as the creaming ingredient, I used about 1 cup (finished) white sauce (✔) Make white sauce after you have assembled and are actively simmering the soup; ideally about 15 minutes prior to service. Generous pat of butter, 1 Tbls of sifted flour, light sea salt, 5-6 grinds fresh black pepper, similar amount of ground nutmeg and enough 1/2-1/2 to end up with the volume recommended. See any “white sauce” recipe online for instructions as to steps – they’re pretty much the same in every case)

*Spices & Other Ingredients: My primary spice for all cooking with meats, both roasting, and in soups, etc., is a product called “SPIKE” (✔) which is available at most health food stores, and even regular grocers that offer select-your-own spices in their “organic” department. A mix of too many spices and citrus peels to name, it is quite powerful, and delivers a tremendous flavor boost to nearly every thing. Use sparingly. A secondary herbal based product, available at Life Source and Whole Foods, is “Bragg’s Organic Sprinkle 24 Herbs & Spices”(✔) which I also use in almost everything – more exclusively with beef & pork, than chicken.

(✔) The oil here is butter & a bit of light olive oil. (Butter only in the white sauce)
(✔) Salt always means sea salt
(✔) Pepper always means freshly ground black pepper
(✔) Tabasco & red pepper flakes ( To cook’s taste. I like a little punch!)

ACTUAL ASSEMBLY

In Order of Use:
3-4 quart heavy sauce pan with lid

1 pat Butter
1 tsp Light Olive Oil
2 pinches “Spike”
2 shakes “Bragg’s”
To taste Red pepper flakes

Once butter & oil have melted, and spices added, over medium heat, add Mirepoix. Stir to coat all with oil & spices. Add a little more butter if needed, not more oil. Cover, simmer on medium low for 5-10 minutes

Add cut up chicken, salt & pepper to taste. Stir all together, add drained corn on top. Allow to simmer for another 10-15 minutes, stir and watch carefully. Add about a cup of broth mix if you need to.

Add remainder of broth. Reduce heat to low medium, cover and allow to simmer for up to 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. The vegetables, especially the carrots, should be fork tender.

Make your white sauce. You will need about a finished cup maybe a little more. Once completed (usually about 15 minutes work) pour and stir into soup. Return to low heat for 10-15 minutes while you prepare any accompanying items such as salad and/or bread.

Serves 4