I haven’t done much hiking lately, but I finally got myself back out onto a local trail yesterday for about 2 hours. Here are two scenes; a bit of a tree tunnel, and a pine grove (too bad computers can’t convey that subtle but wonderful smell of a pine grove). Enjoy!
PHOTO TIME: Time once again to replace my usual thousand words with one picture. Here’s a shot taken last night, a warm Saturday night in May, at the Eagle Rock Park / 9-11 Memorial in Montclair, NJ. That would be mid-town Manhattan in the distance. I’m tempted to ramble on about the meta-themes that intermix in this shot. But for now, I’ll just let the picture do the talking.
Here’s something you don’t see too much. It’s a check from the US Government — an unexpected check at that. I do my own taxes, and I filed early this year, well before April 15. About a week ago I got a note in the mail from the IRS saying that I made a mistake on my return. Bad news, right? Well, for once, it was good news. Turns out that I forgot that the stimulus tax payment from last summer was to be based on what you earned in 2008, even though the initial amount sent was based on what you earned in 2007. Because of some income on stock investments that I’m holding for retirement (above what I can put in an IRA), my 2007 income was too high for me to get the full $600; I was sent $500. HOWEVER, because the stock market went to hell in 2008 and I didn’t have any such income, I actually am owed the full amount. But I wasn’t aware of that. So the IRS was decent enough to remind me of my mistake, and sent me a check for what they owed me.
Well, that’s certainly a rare event in life — making a mistake such that the IRS owes YOU money, and then getting a check in a couple of weeks. Well, no tea party for me this year. It’s nice to see the IRS being just as prompt in correcting a mistake in one’s own favor, as it is in going after you when you owe them money (or if they think you do). I’m actually being nice to Uncle Sam and not rushing to the bank to cash the check. As such, I’m helping in a small way to finance the huge defecit that the federal government is now incurring as to help save the economy from a decade-long depression. But once I do put the money in the bank, most of it will stay there. I’m afraid that an extra hundred isn’t going to inspire me to get out there and contribute to the revival of the consumer spending sector. I have a furlough at work to deal with; I thus can use the money to help soften the impact on my basic spending (and preparing just in case my employment situation gets even worse).
Nonetheless, I just wanted to give some non-financial credit where non-financial credit is deserved. Thanks much, IRS.
I gripe every so often about things changing too fast. Let’s say that you buy something that works well and does what you need it to do. Eventually it wears out, so you try to buy a new one. But surprise, surprise, they no longer make it. Once in a very blue moon the newer stuff is better, but too often it just doesn’t work as well. That’s just another side-effect of our dynamic post-industrial capitalist economy (along with worsening distribution of wealth, sub-prime mortgages, the shuttering of Detroit and complex derivative investment instruments that defy mark-to-market accounting, or any other sort of accounting).
So it’s nice when you can still buy a classic. My Uncle Bruno passed away about 10 years and several months ago, and my brother and I had to clean out his apartment and settle his estate. We didn’t charge fees for our services to the other family members who inherited his net assets. But in return, we did pick out a few small-ticket, low-value items from his stash for our own use. My own booty included a Casio digital watch, the F28W. It was a rather low-budget watch, as my uncle was living a low-budget life (which was too bad, as he deserved better). It didn’t do much, but it did tell you the time and date. Also it was light and comfortable to wear, so I starting using it more and more. After a while it became my main wristwatch. I expected it to crap-out after a few years, but it kept on running as the new millennium progressed. About a month ago, the watch reached the ten-year mark with me.
But all good things must end, and my late uncle’s cheap-o Casio finally blanked out last week. I was told that it wasn’t worth having the battery replaced, as it would cost more than an equivalent new watch. So it was time to look for an equivalent new watch. As a starting point, I went on Google to see if anyone had a good recommendation for an F28W equivalent. It turned out that the most equivalent watch is the F28W! They still make it, and it looks the same. So I found a decent deal on Ebay ($14 with shipping) and punched in my order. And the package arrived today. So here’s the new watch on my wrist next to the old one, that had served me so well. The biggest difference is that the old one was made in Malaysia, whereas the new one comes from — where else? — China. We shall see if the Chinese do as well.
Sometimes simple is better, or so says the Casio web site. Most of the reviews on the Amazon site pretty much agree (but they’re correct about the plastic band breaking within two years; I’ll use the cloth band that I was using with the old one once it does). It’s nice, just for once, to find something old that the modern world still can’t beat. P.S., this isn’t the so-called “Casio terrorist watch”; that would be the fancier F91W. Mine came from some Jewish merchant in Brooklyn; the box was packed with Hebrew-language newspaper pages!
Like most people, I like to eat; I enjoy the act of consuming tasty, well-prepared food. But I also know that too many kinds of tasty food have bad side-effects, e.g. obesity from too much fat and sugar, high blood pressure from too much salt, and possibly cancer from certain preservatives and by-products (e.g. the stuff in bacon, maybe even the crust on bread!). And I also know that what I eat has a bigger effect on the planet and on humankind at large. As such, I choose not to eat meat, and to minimize the amount of animal products that go down my throat (admittedly, I’m not a perfect vegan yet). Furthermore, I’m convinced that what I eat has an effect on my psyche; I’d get pretty depressed after a while trying to survive on microwaved burritos and non-stop Micky D’s (although I know people who do survive on that diet — in fact, too many people).
So, I’m a bit of a “foodie”, a vegetarian foodie. I put a lot of time into cooking and baking, I constantly try to improve my recipies, I own about 7 or 8 different cookbooks, and I’m on the lookout at the supermarkets for interesting new ingredients that might fit with my food philosophy. (Unfortunately, most of the new things I see at those supermarkets are highly-processed “food-like” items, exactly what I don’t want to eat). I’m kind-of a “slow food” guy, although I’m also trying to keep it simple. I don’t do complex, elaborate dishes; I don’t go bonkers to get the freshest, most exclusive items from specialty stores; and I don’t limit myself to organic fruits and veggies (too expensive!). I mainly use ingredients available at the local supermarket (although I do order some things now and then from bulkfoods.com, and I stop in at the local Whole Foods every month or so).
My meals are fairly simple; no fancy salads or appetizers, just a plate full of carbs, proteins and veggie fiber, followed up by a small dessert (maybe some cookies or a cupcake that I made – from scratch – during my weekend cooking sessions). With perhaps a glass of wine or ale (or porter or stout), but sometimes just a glass of seltzer with lemon. I concoct my main dishes on weekends, so that a weeknight consists of cooking some rice or pasta and heating up some veggie side-dishes along with the “main event” (usually a soup, a bean dish, or a pasta sauce). And then sitting down to enjoy the results.
Notice that I cook a lot, and thus use a lot of heat. Yea, admittedly I’m not a raw-foods person. I come from a Polish ethnic family and even though what I eat is very different from what they ate (lots of starch and meat fat and nothing green or yellow), I still tend to favor hot, cooked meals. As such, my carbon footprint is larger than for those good, progressive folk who get by on nuts, salads and raw brocolli. But there’s something very familiar and comforting about having a steamy plate full of calories under my chin, come dinner time — even in July! With me, the old tradition lives on (even though the spices and basic ingredients are all different).
So what’s on the menu? Here’s a list of my main dishes at present. I go back and forth between these items, making enough for 8 or 10 meals and then moving on to another item to sustain me for a few weeks.
– Black beans / rice or cornbread, with broccoli and yam or yellow squash
– Black bean soup w bread, yam or yellow squash
– Veg chili, red beans and lentils, with broccoli and yam or yellow squash
– Green split pea soup (no ham) with bread, broccoli and yam or yellow squash
– Lentil / tomato soup w bread, yam or yellow squash
– Beans baked in molasses and onions w whole grain raisin bread, yam or yellow squash
– Lentil / barley / mushroom soup w baked potato, broccoli and squash or yam
– Black eyed peas / rice or cornbread w yam or yellow squash
– White bean / kale / tomato soup w bread, yam or yellow squash
– White bean / broccoli soup w red vinegar, bread, yam or yellow squash
– Pinto bean stew w wheat noodles or baked potato, broccoli and yam or yellow squash
– Lentil / carrot / ginger soup w bread, yam or yellow squash
– Baked lentil loaf w sauteed mushrooms, baked potatos, yam or yellow squash
– Ratatouille (zucchini, eggplant, tofu, bread crumbs) w rice, yam or yellow squash
– Curried eggplant with peas, rice, yam or yellow squash
– Noodle casserole w tomato, green pepper, onion and tofu, with yam or yellow squash
– Stir fry (broccoli, red cabbage, red pepper, onions, tempah, garlic) w rice (sweet or short brown)
– Whole wheat pasta, orzo or aroboli rice w lentil/onion sauce, sauteed split mushrooms, steamed broccoli
– Garlic/chick pea/red lentil/cracked wheat soup, with yam or yellow squash
– Falafel with tahini sauce, bread, brocolli, yam or yellow squash
– Red Beans, hot peppers, cumin w/ rice, salsa, yam or yellow squash
– Pasta with kale/red cabbage/garlic, sauteed zucchini and portabello mushroom
– Pasta sauces: Tomato; Lentil/onion with basil pesto; Green pepper and onion w red vinegar
FINAL POINT: Most foodies love farmers markets. Up to now I haven’t given those markets much attention, as they are usually provisional affairs open at a odd times in odd places without good parking. But this past weekend I discovered a more institutional farmer’s market — some snobby foodies might not even consider it a farmer’s market. It’s in South Paterson, NJ, about 5 miles from my house, and I came across it by accident on a photo expedition. It impressed me by its size and scope (it’s not a handful of tables in a town square, but a series of warehouse buildings along a two block stretch where food merchants set up bins on the sidewalk and along the curb). So I got out and walked around, and was quickly astounded by the low prices and high quality of the stuff for sale on those bins. I picked up some apples and tomatos and strawberries at half to 3/4 of the supermarket price.
Most of the sellers aren’t farmers but food wholesalers, although supposedly some farmers set up tables and sell direct during the summer months. So maybe the apples came from Chile and the strawberries from Mexico and the tomatos from Florida or such. This market is not necessarily local, but neither am I. In fact, it’s patronized largely by the local Arab and Hispanic neighborhoods. It’s what “one-worldism” is truly about, once you get past the elitist idealism of the Barack Obama / PBS crowd (to which most “foodies” subscribe). It’s gritty and industrial; it’s not organic and there aren’t any Starbucks nearby (in fact, there are classic old diners to either side of it!). Here’s a pic. My kind of place — I’m definitely going back!
I’ve noticed that the only monthly archive page from this blog that gets a decent amount of attention from Google customers is January, 2004. During that month, I talked a bit about a kid back in my high school class who 
had a chance to become a pro basketball player. That kid was Leslie Cason. Les was a tall, lanky guy who made a great center, propelling our high school basketball team to an undefeated season and a regional championship during my senior year.
Unfortunately, Les did not have a disciplined personality and could not capitalize on the various sports scholarships that were offered to him. He eventually dropped out of college and finally wound up on the streets of Manhattan selling drugs. He finally died of AIDS in 1997. His story still attracts attention from sports fans, probably because of the role that Dick Vitale, the former high school basketball coach-turned-ESPN college sportscaster, played in Les’s life.
I don’t have much to add to Les’s story. Back in school, Les was a celebrated jock and I was mostly an anti-social nerd (mea culpa, but it’s really hard to be a sociable nerd!). To say the least, we ran in different circles. But I do remember having Les in my senior English class. In fact, he sat one row over from me. Les was a likable fellow; he never joined in with the other jocks who found me an easy target for bullying [but I got through it, and it might have even made me stronger; I’m not sure that I could have survived working in a law enforcement office later in life had I not learned how to get roughed up a little].
But Les wasn’t much of a scholar either, and given his rising fame, he saw little need to concern himself with stuff like geometry, Shakespeare and American history.
I have some proof that I sat next to the semi-famous Leslie Cason in high school. There’s a tiny picture in the ERHS 71 yearbook taken in my English class during a test. I scanned it and did my best with Photoshop to make some sense out of it. The red arrow points to Les, and the blue arrow is for me. Yes, I know this isn’t solid proof; it has the same quality level as a purported UFO shot. As with the X-Files, it only makes sense if you want to believe.
But if you do believe me, you can see that I was approaching the test like a true eternal student, pouring out the words with all my heart and soul (and much of my brain, hopefully). As to Les . . . well, he looks to be holding up the test page, wondering what to do. I suppose that he eventually did write something, that it wasn’t all that good, and that it didn’t matter. Our English teacher, Mr. Luterzo (who looked a bit like James Karen, i.e. Mr. Pathmark), knew that he had to play a game (school politics) as much as Les had to play his game. The school basketball team needed Leslie Cason and the basketball colleges wanted him. It would all work out, he and Coach Vitale thought.
Too bad that it didn’t.
P.S., the Wikipedia article on Dick Vitale used to say that Les Cason wasn’t really interested in basketball as a kid; he liked baseball instead. (The Daily News confirms that Les was originally a baseball kid.) I do recall that Les played Little League in East Rutherford for the Caughey’s Restaurant team, and was considered quite a player. My brother also played in the E.R. L.L. at the time (but on a different team), and I vaguely remember going to games and seeing Les. He was a very good baseball player; I wonder if things would have been different for him had he stuck with his first love.
My mother is back in the hospital again, so I’m sitting around in the ICU for 6 hours a day while nothing much happens. Healing is slow, and at my mother’s age, it’s not even certain to happen. We’re not sure how this is going to work out, but whatever happens, this will be a memorable time in my life. One part of the memory will be the drive home through the dark winter night. I decided to stop near a train underpass along the route and get a shot. It’s not much to see, although the lighting is fairly interesting. I don’t usually drive along this road, so this underpass will probably become a “memory marker” for me. Here’s how I’ll remember it; dark, cold, and deserted. A lonely milepost on a long vigil.
This is what America looked like maybe 50 or 60 years ago; this is where America once worked. But now the factories and watertanks and smokestacks are getting quite rare; mostly just reminants from the a different industrial era. Here are some views of what’s left of the old industrial zone in Dundee (Passaic) NJ, along the Passaic River. This is where my grandparents worked after they came over from Poland around 1912. This is what America looked like to them. Not exactly breathtaking, but compared to war and agrarian poverty in Russian or Austrian-controlled Poland, it probably looked just fine. And it probably looks pretty good to the Mexicans and Dominicans who hold down what few jobs are left here.
I’m trying to get things back to normal here. And I see that I haven’t posted a picture in a while. So here’s a picture, a winter picture. Just some geese on a snow-covered field on a gray January afternoon.
On Monday evening at sunset, there was a celestial mini-event here in the Eastern USA, as the crescent Moon was in close proximity to Venus and Jupiter. All shining brightly in the south-western sky, the three formed a triangle that was quite a sight to see, hovering over the afterglow of dusk. I got out my camera and tripod, and you see the results above.
Back in the old days, the public interpreted events like this as having some sort of metaphysical consequence. By “old days”, I certainly do include pre-historic times along with antiquity and the Middle Ages. But I must also include the “hippie era” of the late 1960’s, when the “dawning of the age of Aquarius” became a popular topic. The 5th Dimension put out a hit song reflecting the great hope that was in the air at the time, the hope for a “groovy future” because of a certain alignment of Mars, Jupiter and the Moon. (Probably assisted by all of those “mind expanding” substances that American youth was popping or smoking or ingesting back then.)
But today, the Moon, Jupiter, and Venus — which you’d think was an even better partner than Mars — can put on a show right before dinner, and hardly anyone went out to light ceremonial bonfires for ritual dancing in multi-colored robes. I’m surprised that hardly anyone thought to link this heavenly display with the recent election of Barack Obama as POTUS. Many people, especially rich liberals and not-so-rich youth, see the coming of Obama as something mystical, the dawning of a new era. So why didn’t they make the connection with this great sign from above? Why wasn’t there barefoot dancing by joyous youth around the autumn flames at sunset? Just because the stock market had another bad day?
I’m not going to let this go without an attempt, however lame, at a 60’s style celebration of that great sign in the sky as our nation enters a new age. Get ready, because I’m going to mash the lyrics from the first stanza of the 5th Dimension’s “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In”. But I’m also going to need to twist up Mr. Obama’s last name somewhat. Aquarius has 4 syllables, while Obama has a quick 3; it doesn’t fit well in the refrain. So I’m going to give his name a Roman Empire twist; I’m changing it to “Obam-ius”. Having done that, here’s what we get:
With Venus bright in the southern sky,
And Jupiter out near the Moon
When hope will guide our country
And peace will be here soon
This is the dawning of the Age of Obam-ius, Age of Obam-ius,
Obam-iussssssss . . . .
OK, I’ll stop here. Guess the 1960’s are over, REALLY OVER. Just me getting old.
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