Partly cloudy, with a chance of turkey

One of my most favorite books when I was younger was "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs," a wonderful fantasy about a town whose meals fell from the sky like weather three times a day. The illustrations are some of the finest ink-work I've ever seen as well.

Driving towards town this afternoon a quote from the book was realized as the setting sun looked like a giant pat of butter melting into the mountain range... and I could almost smell the mashed potatoes. (I paraphrased that, tried googling the quote, but ended up just discovering that they are in production for a movie based on the book due out in 2009 or 10. Sweet.)

Of course it probably was mashed potatoes that I was smelling, and turkeys and roasts and hams and pumpkin pies, and weird green bean casseroles that for some reason somebody somewhere decided belonged on the turkey day table. Happy day of gluttony and mass consumption of quantities, I hope everyone has a safe and sated holiday!

Wear your ice cleats,
dc

Idiotic observation while watching an Einstein documentary

Something is wrong with me. Of course, I've let the cat out of the bag on that one, and most people have already gathered that, but sometimes I even amaze myself.

This documentary was awesome, talking about how Einstein's theories were in no way accepted in the scientific community well after the rest of the world's imagination was inspired. He was one of the original pop stars, and one of the first to be stalked by paparazzi. A brilliant thinker, he didn't even get the Nobel Prize for the Theory of Relativity after scientists finally accepted its proof. I was also reminded that he married his first cousin, who was his caretaker, and noticed for the first time that....

... Einstein had man boobs.

Why I noticed that of all things, I don't know. So in order to get the thought out of my head, and stop debating to the other me rattling between my ears whether excessive male breast tissue is a sign of intellect, or a product of it, I pass the thought on to you.

Moon rises and pizza pies.

Ish and I are on the same wavelength today, as far as spectacular moonrises go. The stunning orange orb has greeted me homebound the past few days, and it is hard to keep your eyes off of it and pay attention to the road. I appreciated his full-moon cloud erradication theory as well. It seems like eastern philosopy - if you can't see it, is it really there?

One thing I do notice on full moon nights is the amplification of spaz-like behavior in children. It takes the extra hour of convincing that one more page of homework certainly won't kill them. S.O. on the other hand... needless to say, the homework was done.

There is something special about winter in Kodiak and clear crisp nights when the stars are vivid against the backdrop of the universe. Craning my neck to the sky I still scan for the few constellations pointed out to me as a child, my favorites: Orion, and the Big Dipper. I remember laying out on the front lawn in snowsuits noting that the constellations moved, and Orion seemed to be chasing something, but what? It is no wonder Benny picked that particular constellation for the Alaska flag, it seems to jump out at you from any angle on the horizon of our northern nights. Now I'm getting all sentimental for winter and Thanksgiving, turkey
(Whatever happened to KVOK's Turkey Shoot? That was a fun contest to listen to. ) and Marshmallow Yam-tastic. MMM... Yams.

Speaking of food, I noticed the new pizza place up and running, the menu looks pretty tasty, but definitely not budget friendly - especially for delivery. $50 minimum order, manditory 15% gratuity, plus a manditory ten spot for the driver. I'm a generous tipper normally, but it kind of leaves a weird taste in my mouth when it is demanded. Not that I wouldn't pay it, or they don't deserve it necessarily, it is the principal of the thing. We'll probably be getting our family pizza night from Big Al's, or the freezer at Safeway anyway, and save the gourmet experience for an anniversary or birthday. I'm sure it is wonderful food.

And now my stomach is growling.

Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish?

What is it about celebrity that the stupidest comments amplify your infamy? Do the blonde realize they are blonde? (Not hair profiling, per se... blonde's come in all pigments). ** and on another aside, when did blonde become blond in the spellcheck or did I really miss a spelling rule somewhere, I'm sticking with blonde, uncapitalized, I don't care.**

I guess it is the intellectual's obligation to mock the bubbly cheerleader for asking you "what does illiterate mean?" Seemingly educated people seem to fall under the same trap, but not so much out of ignorance, out of delusional grandeur, where you manage to promote the lie so much it becomes your truth.

I suppose there is quite a bit of gray in the world though, some of it bluish, some of it brownish depending on your perception, so maybe it isn't all delusion, it is more a form of color blindness. A disability of sorts that renders you mindblind to another person's point of view.

Anyway, rambling again... the thought was generated after flipping past Ms. Palin on Greta Van Susteren last night, which I only really visited long enough to hear the comment about the blogosphere being "kids in pajamas sitting in the basement of their parents’ homes".

From the majority of bloggers I've stumbled upon, I gather most of them are Gen-X to post Gen-X'ers, the kiddos I know seem to stick to myspace trading back and forth mindless surveys and silly joke graphics. Yeah, I may blog in my pajamas from time to time, but you know what... my parents don't even have a basement.

It was a blonde comment if ever I heard one. So I nominate Sarah Palin for the title of Honororary Blonde. Thinking about it, at least she didn't claim to have invented the giant series of tubes called the Internet.

I have nothing profound to say.

Other than being caught up in work and the latest sickling pandemic rolling through the elementary gathering victims one by one to wander the cold and flu meds aisle, there is no reason for me to have escaped my blog tending responsibilities. But I slacked.

America did its job, and crossed racial boundaries where it counted... now we just sit and wait and watch people pull things a part just to put them back together in some chimeric fashion. Spins on spins, I actually feel badly for Sarah Palin with the media attacks the last couple of days. She may deserve some of it, but I don't think she had any real factor on the defeat of the republican party during the election.

Then with gas prices dropping along with the temperature, looks like maybe I'll be able to afford this winter after all!

Thanks all for the great blog reading. I may not comment often, but if you are obsessive over your stats, you'll see I've been reading!

Flavors of the world...

Stuck home with sicklings until a sitter willing to tend to my harbingers for disease appeared, I got to watch Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern for a bit this morning. He didn't get around to much eating of tarantulas or fermented fridge rot, and other than a fairly disturbing scene where there were helpers trying to squeeze him into leather pants for an olive oil basted wrestling match, it was a pretty sweet show.

He wandered Turkey, and who knew there was such thing as a whistling language for people to communicate across a gorge, a giant ant-farm of underground cities, and whirling dervishes who were once banned danced. Dreams of wandering the globe and experiencing these things have long been discarded, so it is nice when it is delivered vicariously via cable. Except for the food, some of it looks tasty, some of it... hmm, I don't think I'm as brave as Andrew Zimmern.

Reminded me that we do get actual tastes of global culture here in the form of performances at the auditorium. After passing the poster at the store, it seems there is a good one happening tonight. I checked them out on youtube: Baka Beyond. Although I prefer the African sound to the Celtic sound, looks like it will be a good show. Makes me wonder if someone is cooking up some traditional Camaroon foods to round off the experience. Probably not, but that would be a plus.

So I guess if the polls allow escapement before 7, head over to the high school auditorium tonight to become culturally enhanced. What do Forest Pygmy's eat anyway?