Blue Ridge Grass

Finally: A Reason to go to Kernersville?

2010-04-04T13:43:00.000-07:00

Today I went through my glorious Easter Sunday routine of hitting up all the grocery and drug stores in town looking for discounted Cadbury Mini-Eggs. Yes, Cadbury Mini-Eggs are the main thing that causes this agnostic, pretty much God-indifferent fellow to go through Easter Sunday with a sense of joy, gratitude, and reverence.

Not everyone seems to know about the good news of Cadbury Mini-Eggs, and so I was sharing some of these with the friendliest barista ever Martha at the Thru-way Borders today. However, she also informed me that in shores all over Kernersville during the Easter season, you can frequently find handmade Moravian Easter Egg chocolates made in a variety of delicious flavors, such as coconut. My interest piqued, I asked her if it was possible to pick some of these seasonal Moravian delicacies even though Easter had already passed. She said no, these would be long-gone by now.

I thus announced that I would have to make a mental note to find these Moravian Easter Egg candies about 350 days from now. Why 350, Marthas asked? Well, because if I wait 365 days from now, I'm going to be in this same sorry state, completely deprived of Kernersville's Moravian Easter Eggs this time again next year, no? You see, Momma didn't raise no fool.

Hopefully we'll see a follow-up on this post 350 days from now, with a picture of me enjoying delicious coconut-flavored Moravian delicacies... mmm...

Night Skiing Deserves a Quiet Night

2010-03-22T14:53:00.000-07:00

Did you know that North Carolina has skiing? Did you know that North Carolina has skiing in late March? Well, I think I'd heard about the first one, but skiing has sort of skipped my mind my mind since I got here. I like to ski enough, but I also like to take a disparaging view of East Coast "mountains." In any case, Austin presented the fine idea of going night-skiing last Saturday, in what I have to only imagine was quite possibly the last ski weekend of the season, and so we headed off to Sugar Mountain.

True to its name, the snow felt like sugar -- you know the kind that you get when it's been sitting out in the humidity for too long? And to get it out of the container you have to start chipping at it with a butter knife or something? Yeah, that kind. Staying on top of my skis as I blithely flew down the mountain at top speeds anyway was thus a bit of a challenge. I also went out of my way to hit any little jumps I could find and get as much air as possible, and I'm proud to say that this resulted in at least four wipeouts, with skis and poles flying every which way. I told Austin that if you don't wipe out at least once, you're just not trying hard enough.

On the road to Jackson, MS

2010-03-21T07:58:00.000-07:00

A couple pictures from a recent roadtrip to Jackson, MS:

Oh, if only it were that easy...

As advertised: the Peanut Depot store in Birmingham, AL sells ONLY roasted and boiled peanuts. I tried to get some other friends into these lovely boiled peanuts, and they weren't feeling it. What's wrong with people these days?

Got to Jackson just in time to see the last day of an exhibit on Jim Henson at the Mississippi Museum of Art. Pretty interesting contrast to the Tim Burton exhibit at MOMA in New York. Check this out if you have 9 minutes... it's sort of like Sesame-Street-animation-meets-art-school-final-project...

Solice from a Prawn

2010-03-11T21:33:00.000-08:00

Well, in the end I didn't make it out to Mexico. This made me very sad, although a couple friends thought I had made the right choice after hearing on NPR that border towns around Mexico (Chihuahua was named in their little list) had witnessed 200 murders in the past... what was it? Oh yes, week.

I figured the only way to relieve my disappointment was to head to the Spanish restaurants on Waughtown street, this time joined by my friend Feisty. We happened to go to El Paisano on a Friday, which so happens to be one of the few days that they serve caldo de camarones (shrimp broth soup). Feisty and I ordered a couple bowls of this and loved diving through the broth to get to all the yummy jumbo shrimp and chunks of whitefish found within. Mmmmm....

Postscript: Another friend Pat who had joined me on a previous Waughtown excursion heard about my failed attempt to get down to Mexico, and this conversation ensued:

Pat: "I've heard your Spanish down on Waughtown street."

DW: "Yes?"

Pat: "Not impressed."

Oh really? Well, I got some choice words for you in English then, my friend.

Prawn says: Don't be sad, DW, there will be other trips to Mexico.

Chihuahua debate

2010-03-05T06:29:00.001-08:00

Well, I had planned to make a new trip to the Spanish world to learn Espanol starting next week, but these plans are on deathwatch. My original plan was to follow out my friend Michelle to Chihuahua, Mexico, where I would camp out with her and take three weeks of Spanish classes. Unfortunately, she announced a plan not to go back, less than a day after I had bought my non-refundable ticket, which seems to have to do with the fact that she has no money to get there, and no job once she does. And perhaps her drive to return has been dampened by the fact that she witnessed a double murder the last week she was living there previously, right across the street from her house. (I will leave out all the gory details.)

I had bought my ticket to visit telling her "I hope you understand that YOU'RE about the only reason I would feel at all tempted to visit this place. In fact, I would almost literally be anywhere else in the Spanish-speaking world." To which she replied "Aww, thanks!"

In any case, I am now faced with the fact that I have bought a non-refundable ticket to one of the most dangerous cities in Mexico to visit a place where I have no contacts. I am trying to figure out whether to go through with the trip or not. Currently I am sitting at Border's where the Fodor's guide has this to say about it all:

[Danger symbol:] Given the problems with drug-cartel related violence in Chihuahua City and Ciudad Juarez, we strongly advise that you avoid using either as a transit hub or base.

Hmm. Sounds like a great place to be for three weeks. Blood levels rising...

My Last Memory of Roger Ebert

2010-02-19T17:29:00.000-08:00

I felt more compelled to write this entry after reading a recent article in Esquire on Roger Ebert. The article details aspects of Roger Ebert's life after losing his lower jaw to cancer and thus being rendered unable to speak, eat, or drink. The article was so graphic and depressing at times it almost made me cry, but it was also a strangely uplifting tale, detailing how Ebert has emerged from his cancer with good humor and into one of the most productive and inspired writing periods of his life.

Before moving to Winston, I lived in Champaign, IL for several years, and Roger Ebert would bring in about a dozen shows a year to his own annual film festival (The "Rober Ebert Overlooked Film Festival"). I probably caught three or so a year. I remember Roger Ebert would introduce and then debrief every movie there and tell us why he loved them -- that was actually the first place I saw Junebug, which is now my favorite movie of all time. (And takes place in Winston-Salem no less. Weird.)

The last year I was in Champaign was also the year that Ebert lost his jaw to cancer. After years of introducing every movie, Ebert hadn't introduced any of them that year... he instead quietly sat in the back of the theater in a special Laz-Z-Boy chair set up for him, and watched as many movies as he had energy for. I think that everyone there thought that would probably be Roger's last Ebertfest.

My last memory of Ebert was when they showed "Beyond the Valley of the Dolls" that year. The movie was chosen to close the festival, and bizarrely it was actually largely written by Roger Ebert. To everyone's amazement, he actually introduced that movie, and when he took the stage, his face looked something like a fish pulled out from deep sea, with buggy eyes, and puffy lips, and his neck was wrapped in a thick bandaged cast. But he also looked very happy to be there.

Since Ebert couldn't talk, he brought a laptop up with him, hooked it up to some electronic equipment, and pushed play. Out came an electronic voice that said "Hi, my name is Hal. You might remember me from Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. And today, I will be serving as the voice of Roger Ebert..."

Watching that film that day was one of the most memorable movie experiences I've ever had. Ebert's movie was full of random acts of violence, transvestites, and yes, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. It was hilarious and unexpected. When the movie ended, everyone stood to their feet and gave Ebert a standing ovation that lasted at least five minutes.

That day it struck me that Roger Ebert was really more than the guy who doled out thumbs up and down on Saturday every week as I was growing up -- he was a creative man who loved life deeply and desired to share that love with others through his writing. I hope that he has many years yet to share his gifts.

Back Baby

2010-02-19T17:05:00.000-08:00

This is why I won't apologize for my leave of absence:

Above pilfered from XKCD.com

Of course, I took Spanish, not French in High School, so the above would hardly apply anyway.

On a completely unrelated note, I think Doodles is currently illustrating a dream of mine. More later...

Bird is the Word

2009-08-30T09:35:00.000-07:00

Once again, Doodles has enlisted me to make a piece of art for one of the silent auctions being run through the Electric Moustache art gallery at Krankies. So I put together two versions of this idea. Below is the version that I'll probably keep:

In any case, the silent auction starts at 6pm on Saturday, Sept. 6th, where you can see (and yes, buy) Version 2 of this fine art piece (?), as well as many other works from much more reputable people. I hope to see you there!

Goodbye, Breakfast Club

2009-08-17T22:30:00.001-07:00

Despite the timely title, the title is hardly a tribute to the late John Hughes (although plans for a Breakfast Club party are percolating). No, this post is actually intended as a way to pay my respects to the passing of my own Breakfast Club -- a group that I regularly did brunch with here in Winston for the past two years. With JaryMane leaving town on Saturday for the bright lights of Chicago, and DJ Dan heading to the West Coast only weeks before, I have suddenly found myself the only Breakfast Club member left to roam our old stomping grounds in Winston.

Below I detail -- In Memoriam -- the members of my Breakfast Club. RIP.

	DJ Dan. AKA, "the Athlete" Earned his nickname through keeping a ridiculous pace during hikes to South Mountain or the Profile Trail around Grandfather Mountain and never breaking a sweat. Jerk.
	J.P. AKA, "the Princess" Earned her nickname through the fact that she was obviously worshipped by DJ Dan. Molly Ringwald had nothing on J.P.
	"GED", AKA, "the Brain" The ironically-named GED was the first one to leave, moving on to the rarified lands of New York City law schools, where she has already started her inevitable march to the US Supreme Court.
	DW, AKA "the Criminal" Oh yes, recently I got all my hair cut off. Arrrgh! I'm a pirate.
	JaryMane, AKA "the Basketcase" Earned her nickname through the fact that she is a vegan who kills rats (true! trying figuring that one out...) and the fact that she left Winston-Salem for Chicago. What is she thinking? That's right, she's crazy. But she will be missed.

My closing tribute to the Breakfast Club:

We accepted the fact that we had to sacrifice whole Sunday mornings eating brunch with one another for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think its crazy to write an essay telling you who we think we are. You may see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions: We found that each one of us is a brain, an athlete, a basketcase, a princess, and a criminal.

Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.

Peru in Review

2009-08-15T09:48:00.000-07:00

I still have a couple things to remember from Peru, including what I've been calling the Swine Cold -- a nasty little bugger that I've had since two days before I left town.

In any case, I put together a little photo album of the trip, which can be seen at this link. !Salud!

Haggling in Peru

2009-08-03T18:11:00.000-07:00

One of the sad things about Peru is just how easy it is to haggle if you don´t care about people´s feelings. I try here to get the essence of two conversations (conveniently glossing over the fact that I speak Spanish worse than horribly, and the other people involved speak very little English).

---------

Story 1: Yesterday, while getting a shoeshine in Cuzco´s Plaza de Armas. Boy who appears to be about 14 approaches and since my shoes are being cleaned, I am sort of a captive audience:

Boy: Do you want to see my art?

Me: Sorry... I don´t want to buy any art.

Boy: Please, look. I painted these myself. My name is Mario. [Shows me his name in the corner of the paintings.]

Me: I´m not really interested in buying any art.

[Boy puts artwork in my hands... these are basically postcard-sized, but each one is handpainted. Eventually I find one that I kind of like.]

Me: How much does this one cost?

Boy: It is 20 soles for 1, or 2 for 35, or 3 for 45.

Me: I was thinking I would be paying closer to 3 soles.

Boy (stunned... insulted I think): 12 soles.

Me: I´ll pay 8. This is the most I will pay... [Eventually he agrees, and the 8 soles change hands]

--------

Story 2: Today, on a guided tour through Chincheros (a very high mountain town). The tour guide has us pass through a market on our way to look at a church.

Girl: You want to buy a hat.

Me: I don´t need a hat.

Girl (whining): You want a hat... 15 soles! [note: a dollar is worth about 3 soles. So... she is offering me a hat that I would probably buy in the states for 15 dollars for 5 dollars]

Me: Maybe later.*

[About half an hour later I return to the bus... the girl spots me.]

Girl: You want to buy a hat.

Me: I don´t need a hat.

Girl: But you said maybe later! 10 soles.

Me: I really don´t need a hat.

Girl: But you said maybe later! 5 soles.

Me (trying to walk away, fruitlessly): No, I really don´t need a hat... I already have a hat.

Girl: But you said maybe later! 2 soles! [Yes, she is trying to sell me a hat that I would get in the states for $15 for about 60 cents]

Me: I´m sorry! I don´t need a hat.

[I walk into the bus and sit by a window. The girl continues to knock on my window for awhile, until the tour guide shooes her away...]

--------

In my own defense, I would like to say that I was only able to get these poor kids to commit to these insulting prices because I really didn´t particularly want what they were selling... so they were basically agreeing that getting something was better than getting nothing. When I have been interested in the goods, I have usually paid fairly close to their initial asking price. But yes... you could easily take advantage of the extreme poverty out here. The Footprint guide that I´ve been walking around with suggests that you pay ¨fair prices¨ noting that people are so poor here and there are sooooo many people trying to sell things to tourists that you can often get people to agree to almost any price, however insulting. I've certainly seen this to be true, and it makes me sad...

* I don´t actually remember saying ¨maybe later¨... however, given the end result I would generally just advise against using these particular words)

The Search for Warmth

2009-08-02T18:24:00.000-07:00

I got back to Cuzco after a trip down the Rio Apurímac today, no worse for wear except for a couple bug bites and being quite sore from three days of rafting. More on that later...

One thing I had forgotten in getting back into town after being in down almost in a jungle climate for a couple days is how hard it is to stay warm in this town. Cuzco is about two miles high, and it is the middle of Cuzco´s winter, so when the sun goes down the temperature drops quickly. I decided to walk around the Cuzco´s central square, the Plaza de Armas, waiting for one of the seemingly endless masseuses to stop me on the street so that I could get a nice massage. The massage would be nice, but to be honest I was more interested in potential supplementary services, like a jacuzzi or a sauna so I could restore some body heat...

Finding this combination ended up being a little harder than I expected. I passed up several potential masseuses (?) because they didn´t offer these secondary heat-providing services. Ultimately, I ended up agreeing to go to a place where they offered ¨Inca Massage,¨which apparently means that they do regular massage and then put hot stones on you for awhile. The hot stones sounded like just what I wanted.

The location of the massage ended up being, as far as I could tell, a massage spa + travel agency + private home. (Not unusual... other stores can sell you groceries, change money, book trips, and allow you to make international phone calls all in about a 12x12 room...) The woman who enlisted me in the massage got me to the building and asked her son through the door to turn off the television before letting me in. Afterwards, she led me upstairs -- above the travel agency -- to a sort of rickety second floor with three massage tables set up pretty close to one another. And this is where I realized that the place was disappointingly drafty.

The massage ended up being pretty good, but the hot stones were not hot enough, and as soon as it was over, I laid on the table for a couple minutes, trying to avoid the cold that awaited just outside of the towel, and then finally dressed as quickly as possible. I suppose I will have to try harder next time. The going rate for massages here is about $8 an hour, so why not? Maybe I won´t even wait until tomorrow...

-----
Current location: Inside an Internet cafe in the San Blas district of Cuzco. They are playing a version of John Lennon´s 'Imagine' on Peruvian pan-pipes and I am wearing a scarf and hat.

DW Does Machu Picchu... Solo

2009-07-30T12:05:00.000-07:00

My friend Tracey organized our trip to Machu Picchu, and then the morning afterward fell violently ill and only got into the park for about an hour before deciding that she had to return to our hostel and sleep/vomit/do whatever other horrible things it is sick people do. Que lastima...

In any case, as Tracey was leaving Machu Picchu she gave me the all important task of documenting the trip. I only had about two hours to do this and so I ended up walking through there at a pretty brisk pace, but I think I was successful enough. Here are a couple pictures:

	Guide with a tour group during the sunrise at Machu Picchu.
	My version of the shot that you've already seen 1000 times. BTW -- you can hike that mountain thing in the back. It's called Huayna Picchu (or Wayna Picchu), and they only let the first 400 people that come hike it each day... something good to know for next time...
	People pay a whole bunch of money to do the four-day Inca Trail hike, in large part because they think that this is the only way to see the Sun Gate. Well, you can save yourself a lot of time by just hiking backwards from Machu Picchu... it'll take about half an hour and this is about what you'll see.
	A picture of me walking back into Machu Picchu from the Inca Trail taken by... me... When hiking alone, desperate times call for desperate measures...
	As I walked through Machu Picchu, I stumbled onto this little vizcacha and a Peruvian couple. The woman kept saying "¡Que linda, que linda!" (how beautiful! How beautiful!) while the husband tortured the poor animal by getting as close to it as possible until it scurried away.
	More or less what Tracey was up to all day as I was having my fun.

Tracey has since had to head back to work, and so I am now in Cuzco for the next week sans travelling companions. Next up: the Río Apurímac, where I'll be floating Class 4 rapids with a bunch of Israelis (I think). Catch you on the flip-side!

The Really South: Goodbye Lima

2009-07-28T15:03:00.000-07:00

I´ve noticed that I have a nasty habit of going AWOL for a long time just after leaving somewhat disconcerting posts. Well, the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated. I am currently in Cusco (Cuzco? ...Both work) after spending a wonderful last couple days in Lima. I ate some wonderful ceviche, had my first anticuchos (marinated beef hearts... delicious!), drank free whiskeys all night at a party hosted by Lima´s DedoMedio (Middle Finger) magazine, and crossed Barranco's beautiful Puente De Los Suspiros (Bridge of Sighs).

We'll see if this video loads, but this was one of my highlights of my trip -- the relatively new "Circuito Mágico Del Agua", which is a park that consists almost entirely of water fountains:

The Ladrons and the Gringo-Swindling

2009-07-24T07:41:00.000-07:00

* The word "ladrons" translates approximately to "thieves" but it also somehow reminds me of "toilets" for some reason which is appropriate enough.

** Also note that all the facts of my accounting of the events of yesterday are highly suspect... this includes the names of the people I interacted with, to my accounting of anything I think I might have said since I don't speak spanish... I just got tired of writing "supposedly" to qualify every sentence and so you can mentally add those in if you like.

OK... a full accounting of the events of yesterday would take a long time, but suffice it to say that yesterday while wandering the streets of Lima I ended up bumping into a man named Jose, who was playing in a band in Barranco later that evening. We talked as well as people can when one person doesn't speak better than pre-K English and the other doesn't speak better than pre-K Spanish, but we were having a good enough time and soon I agreed to buy him a drink at a bar.

We get to a dark bar -- I think that we were the only people there at the time, and soon another friend of his shows up. I agree to get pisco sours (the drink I'm holding here) for the three of us, and we order a plate of alpaca meat with other goodies. Both were tasty enough. And we had most of the conversation in Spanish... so I was having a pleasant time with good food and drink practicing my Espanol.

There is much more to this story really (including their attempts to get me to buy an expensive bottle of "ayawaska" from a shaman -- this is a sort of hallucinogenic elixir which appeared to me to look like blended toilet water), but in any case, I ended up walking out of there $150 poorer from the three drinks and alpaca meat I had bought... which might not sound like the most money in the world to Americans, but things are cheaper here and my friend Fabi assures me this is about the price you would pay for a good meal at the most expensive restaurants in town.

In any case, I probably would have been out a lot more except for the convenient fact that I didn't have any credit cards on me and hadn't brought enough money to pay the bill I had already racked up anyway, and so the party had to end sooner than my compadres had originally intended... I imagine I could have been blindsided by a much larger bill later if they hadn't learned sooner how little I was carrying on me.

The owners of the bar wanted me to leave some sort of collateral behind while I picked up the rest of the money. I was only carrying my passport and camera, and I didn't want these people to know where I was staying, so this seemed to me to be a horrible option, but I luckily had a cell phone on me from Fabi's mom, which was supposed to help me get out of any emergencies. I thought this qualified, and so I called and luckily Fabi came to the rescue.

It took Fabi about a half hour to arrive at which point Jose and his friend (the one in the picture... I don't remember his name) were gone. As I sat and waited I actually had a very pleasant time trying to talk with some of the staff of this bar in Spanish, who for the most part spoke no English whatsoever. But I started our conversation by noting to one that "that was an expensive Spanish lesson..."

The Really South (Prelude): A Lesson from Avshalom Caspi

2009-07-21T20:36:00.000-07:00

A couple years ago as I was in graduate school, working my ass off on my dissertation and generally feeling stressed out of my mind, we had a guest speaker come to town by the name of Avshalom Caspi, who I had the privilege of joining for a free lunch at a classy restaurant as a part of his festivities. Dr. Caspi is a widely regarded authority on the study of genetics and personality development, and conducts ridiculously massive studies including one which consists of surveying an entire birth cohort of New Zealanders every two or three years (others are more ridiculous). He also has long flowing hair and was wearing bright purple socks with yellow spots with his suit at the time.

I was supposed to have gleaned many lessons about how to conduct research from him at this lunch, but given my generally stressed out state at the time I don´t remember anything from that day at all. Except for one thing: he told me that when he and his wife got married, they made a vow to one another that they would have a trip once a year where they would go someplace exotic for a full month. And after some 15 or so years of marriage, they have stuck by this vow, travelling to places like Madagascar and Ecuador and Thailand.

At the time this was a sort of revelation to me: you could conduct research that was good enough to get you papers published in Science and get you a job at Cambridge, while at the same time taking vacation that lasted an entire month out of the year. My last several years of almost incessant working started to seem... unnecessary and perhaps counterproductive. That year, I resolved to do one of these trips myself (I ended up in Turkey) and currently I am sipping pisco sours in Lima, Peru, just a couple days away from Cuzco and Machu Picchu. Thanks, Dr. Caspi! I´m now trying to spread the good word to other hopeless workaholics.

More later...

Big 3-0

2009-07-07T12:00:00.000-07:00

A Facebook comment from DJ Dan on the event of my 30th birthday:

Happy Birthday! Your personality is now set like plaster.

This was an allusion to the belief among some psychologists that your personality is "set like plaster" and basically impossible to change after age 30.

My reply:

Fuck! I had so much self-improvement planned for last night that I just didn't get around to.

An interesting reply, I think... perhaps not proving that personality is fixed at 30, but maybe in several ways illustrating that I have much self-improvement left to do. Let's hope the psychologists are wrong.

Summer Nights at RayLen, w/ Rosetta Stone Star

2009-06-27T07:06:00.000-07:00

A little over a week ago I went to the second concert by my multi-talented friend Leah at RayLen vineyards. The first concert was a classical concert (which meant that I can't name any of the songs), which was held around April -- here's a picture that was snapped by alert concert-goer Brad:

The first concert was great and widely attended. But the second to me was even better. By June you could look around the RayLen grounds and see fields of ripe vines in every direction. We were just a day or two shy of the solstice, and so the days were long enough that the final songs of the concert were played against the setting sun. There were probably close to two hundred people listening to the concert over glasses of wine on the lawn in front of the winery.

The second concert also featured a much more eclectic set of music... only a smattering of classical songs that I couldn't remember the name of. This concert featured a set list ranging from Leah crooning Elton John's "Your Song" on the piano, followed by a cover of Vince Guiardi's "Christmas Time is Here" from the Charlie Brown Christmas Special (a Top 10 Christmas song ever, btw). Over the course of the concert Leah played not just the piano, but also the bassoon and guitar, all while singing most of the songs. There were also some other unusual song selections which escape my mind at the moment. But I remember the last song sung at the finale was a sort of sensual version of Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get it On," which Leah said she hadn't originally been planning to do but maybe the ambient wine got the best of her. I dunno.

In any case, it has been about a week since the concert, and I had sort of forgotten to do this post, until I was working through my Spanish using the Rosetta Stone software and stumbled onto none other than Leah again, who was providing important clues into the proper use of the past tense:

I am trying to get at the heart of the mystery on this one and have contacted Leah for clues. No answers yet, but she did perhaps unwittingly confirm that this is in fact her. So guitar, piano... bassoon... Rosetta Stone superstar... what doesn't she do?

Hip to be Square

2009-06-17T12:02:00.000-07:00

About a month ago while sitting at Krankies one day, innocently drinking a Boddington's Pub Ale, I suddenly found a little square piece of wood shoved in my face... Doodles had enlisted me to create a piece of artwork for the Electric Moustache's "Square" exhibit.

After making a trip to Michael's to get art supplies, I went about making my first piece of artwork in several years, and to the best of my knowledge my first painting ever. Here it is, and my sister's are below:

I titled this one "European Rooftops" after taking photos of various
buildings I liked from Google images and smooshing them together.

Doodle's first picture, which she titled "Ganesh"

Doodle's second picture, "Simon Bolivar," modeled after a famous portrait.

The exhibit happened last week, and was accompanied by a silent auction. I was around for most of the auction, watching my picture from afar. I was amazed when someone actually placed a bid down (the first piece of art I've ever sold!). I resisted the temptation to walk up and talk to the bidder, as I imagined he would ask "what can you tell me about this painting?" and then I would say something stupid like "This is the first painting I've ever made... I was figuring out how to use acrylic paints as I was going along," and then the man would be filled with regret and try to scratch his name off the bid list.

Talkin' Cajun Yard Dog

2009-06-07T11:46:00.000-07:00

I've been to Charlotte many times now, and had this conversation many times with my friend Jess -- a distressed Charlotte native:

Jess: "You know that there are other places to eat in Charlotte than Cajun Yard Dog, right?"

DW (channeling Homer Simpson): "Whatever Jess. Cajun Yard Dog is like steak. And why would you eat hamburger when you can have steak all the time?"

Mmm.... Cajun Yard Dog. Step through the door in an unassuming strip mall, and suddenly you are back in New Orleans. Some personal favorites: The seafood platters, the Po Boy sandwiches, the crawfish etouffe, the "okrachokie" appetizer (fried okra, artichoke, and calamari), and some of the best shrimp and grits I've had in the south, all washed down with a pint of New Orleans' Abita beers. Then there is the "smothered cabbage" side dish which absolutely cannot be missed: cabbage cooked in heavy cream, white wine, three cheeses, hot sauce, and a bunch of other probably heart-destroying things until it basically tastes like decadent mashed potatoes...

Well, last weekend, Jess and I got a group of seven folks together to go to head to Charlotte for the day. After watching a movie, the seven of us tried to figure out where to go for dinner. The two choices? A Mediterranean restaurant, and Cajun Yard Dog. Where should we go? I abstained, saying "I'm impartial; either is fine with me". One by one, everyone else abstained, until getting to DJ Dan, who said "I'm partial... let's go to Cajun Yard Dog." And of course, I was perfectly happy with the outcome. This of course led to a familiar conversation:

Jess: "You know that there are other places to eat in Charlotte than Cajun Yard Dog."

DW: "Whatever, Jess."

After being at Cajun Yard Dog so often that I know
the waitress's name, I figured I should buy a shirt.

The Good Folks @ Alexander's in Clemmons

2009-06-03T21:43:00.000-07:00

This kindly security guard helped me get the car towed after it got all broken up around Chestnut & First St.

One of the fun things about blogging is the sense that you can hold people accountable after they shit on you (yeah, don't think I've forgotten, Northwest Airlines... I still hate your guts), by bringing their sins to light and airing your grievances and contempt with the world and generally smearing their reputation. The last two weeks I've been without a car, and was gearing up to write scurrilous comments about Alexander's Auto Shop in Clemmons, where I was getting mycar fixed. A month ago, I had the ignition switch fixed by them. Then, about 10 days later, (after they had told me I would "probably never have to fix that part again"), the ignition switch broke again. Since then, I've been without my poor Rav4 for two weeks as they've been working on it. I mean, really, two weeks to get an ignition switch fixed??

But my irritation was misplaced and undeserved. It was clear that they were working on the car almost every day, and a major part of the delay was the fact that my particular Rav4 model has some unusual/rare parts and some ambiguities with their model (there are two different 1997 Rav4 models). When Alexander's kept getting the wrong parts delivered to them by their parts supplier, the mechanic working my car started driving to auto yards himself to find the right part. It was soon discovered that the problem wasn't actually the ignition switch, but a bigger problem with the steering column.

Despite the fact that they had put hours upon hours of work into this thing (the main mechanic said "I felt horrible every day I got back to the shop and saw your car still sitting there"), and despite the fact that the problem ultimately was different than the one that was supposed to be covered by the warranty, I got the car back without paying a cent for their work, without even suggesting this myself at any point. The mechanic gave me some tips on detailing with future auto body shops so that ambiguities about my car's particular model wouldn't get in the way.

So basically, I want to thank you guys -- I appreciate the help greatly, and will definitely recommend you to anyone.

Hell is Myrtle's Beach Bauble Stores

2009-05-25T21:52:00.001-07:00

A nice scene from a recent trip to Myrtle Beach:

And another one, from inside:

Somehow Myrtle Beach had at least one of these disgusting, nauseating stores on every block. Many of these were from the "Wings" chain (which I was disappointed to find out: does not actually serve buffalo wings! Lies!). Along the beach, it was sometimes possible to see two and even three Wings stores from a single vantage point.

This reminded me of a trip to Vancouver B.C., where I found two Starbucks kitty-corner from one another at the same intersection (one was for business-folk, the other was jazzy-hip-folk, as I understood it). I guess the Pacific Northwest has its sickly amounts of coffee shops, and Myrtle Beach has its sickly amounts of beach bauble stores. And mini-golf stores. And doughnut shops. And...

Ahhh, Myrtle Beach.

Not in Seattle anymore

2009-05-18T06:26:00.000-07:00

Earlier today on a trip to Krankies:

DW: "What would you like to drink Doodles?"

Doodles (note: former Seattle barista): "Oh... I'll take an Americano. Ooooh, a double-short Americano, mmmmmm...."

--Doodles leaves to snatch a table, leaving me to think "What the hell is a 'double-short Americano?' Oh well... maybe its a barista thing." --

DW to barista: "I'll take two medium Americanos. And can I get one of them *double-short*?"

Barista: **stares at DW blankly**

DW: I don't know what it is either.

--Awkward silence until Doodles comes back--

DW: "What the hell is a double-short Americano?"

Doodles: "Oh, it's just an Americano with two shots of espresso."

DW: "Oh. I see." (*thinks, thinks*) "So a double-short Americano is a double-shot Americano." (*thinks, thinks*) "What do you need that extra 'r' for?"

Barista: "You Seattle people think you are so cool with your high-falutin' coffee terminology."*

* Didn't actually say that, but I'm sure that's what he was thinking.

Beyond Tacos? Yes, ¡Sopes Deliciosos!

2009-05-15T09:15:00.001-07:00

One of the first things Doodles was looking for after getting into town was some good Mexican food. Apparently Koreans are very good at providing good Korean food options (kim chi, kim chi soup, kim chi burgers, kim chi.. other things...), and their foreign food options don't expand much beyond McDonald's.

I was more than happy to oblige in helping her find some good Mexican food, and took her down to Waughtown St., where they have at least two excellent taquerias: La Perlita (which I wrote about previously) and El Paisano... which is a bit harder to get to (an extra couple minutes down Waughtown St.), but which I think has the better tacos.

My friend Pamphilia insisted that I give La Perlita another try, and so Doodles and I found our way there for her inaugural trip to Waughtown St. It was then that I was hit with a strange sensation to order not just tacos, but something else... (I know... I almost didn't recognize myself), and ordered a couple sopes to snack on after the tacos.

Sopes are sort of like open-faced sandwiches, starting with a puffy corn-flour tortilla which is topped with a lot of stuff. La Perlita's were topped with refried beans, lettuce, onions, carne asada (steak strips), sour cream, queso fresco (a mild cheese that might be described as something between mozarella and feta), and a nice piece of avocado.

I don't know... despite the fact that we had already devoured nearly half a dozen tacos between the two of us and were thus adequately satiated, those sopes were so delicious I almost cried. My eyes have been opened: should I be eating and writing more about Mexican food than simply tacos? Si, debo.

¡Viva la Sopes!

Doodle Dispatch: Week 1 in Winston

2009-05-08T14:27:00.000-07:00

My sister Doodles and I summarize her first week in town (click to enlarge):

Bruce Rocks Steensboro!

2009-05-06T13:05:00.001-07:00

I'm not a particularly big Springsteen fan, but I do like a good music concert, and somehow my friend Paul was able to score four $100 tickets to get us onto the floor of the Springsteen show in Greensboro for about $40 a piece. So I rustled up Doodles and DJ Dan, filled my trusty flask with whiskey, and we headed off to the show at the Greensboro Coliseum.

Three hours later (including a six-song encore), the flask was empty and we had a lot of great memories from the evening:

	I love to see weird old people come out of the woodwork to rock out with bands that were big 30 years ago.
	Bruce goes through the crowd picking up signs for musical requests -- pretty much any song was game, even if not a Springsteen song. He played "Seventh Son" and "Hang on Sloopy" and a couple others. Sloopy was really fun...
	Town is renamed! (Photo from the Smith Family Times... check out their account of the concert.)
	Just Bruce looking like a fucking rockstar. (Photo by Nelson Kepley (News & Record)

The Cool Kreme Trap

2009-05-04T21:29:00.000-07:00

Doodles and I wandered into Krispy Kreme on Stratford to redeem a coupon I had scored for a free Cool Kreme ice cream cone. We wandered in, and were greeted by a cheerful cop who was on his way out.* "Make sure that you ask for a sample cone," he said, "it's free!"

So we ended up going to the counter and getting a cruller and a custard-filled doughnut and our free ice cream cones for a little over 2 bucks. After we handed her the money, the cashier handed us two MORE coupons for free Cool Kremes, meaning that we'll have to go back, I suppose.

As we were walking back to the car, eating ice cream and donuts:

Doodles: "I think that living in the south is going to turn me into a heifer."

Me: "There is no Doodles any more... There is only Helga."

Doodles: "I ate Doodles... she was tasty."

* Krispy Kreme was also running a promotional campaign at the time called "Cops on Doughnut Shops." Go figure...

Doodle's in town!

2009-04-29T19:52:00.000-07:00

My sister Doodles made it to North Carolina about 48 hours ago for an extended stay after two years in Korea. We were both up by about 8:30 the next day and by 10:30 (without any help from me, btw) the kitchen looked cleaner than it had in months... a cleaning dynamo...

After seeing this level of industriousness, I decided that it was clear what I needed to do: get her to start contributing posts to Blue Ridge Grass.

One of the first things she wanted to do was make a visit to the nearest bakery. We headed to Ollie's, where she walked in and stared at the bread and the pastries for a good while, soaking it in. After a couple years of nothing but white bread that was pretty nasty anyway in Gwanju, Korea, she said "You don't know what this means to me."

She didn't shed a tear though... just bought a loaf of light wheat bread. She's a trooper I guess.

Bee Uprising

2009-04-29T19:32:00.000-07:00

Less than a day after spotting a bee getting to work on a hive under my garage, I found a new bee doing the same thing, and even further along. I now know that that first bee was not a fluke, but a harbinger of things to come. I dosed the bastard with Raid and plucked down his little handiwork to put as a little souvenir in my kitchen.

The next day, I went into work and was quietly minding my business when a bee the size of my pinky started buzzing around my office, presumably filled with massive amount of venom and orders to avenge his fallen comrades. I paced the office for a good 15 minutes waiting for my moment to strike and then pounded him with a clipboard as he rested on the windowsill. After this I left for lunch and came back an hour later to find the bee upright and walking around, like an aging prizefighter who refuses to stay down for the count. So I clubbed him again (killing big insects is gross, btw).

Basically, it looks like the bees and me have a score to settle. In fact, I'm so sure of this that they even get their own label. Bring it on, you bastards...

R.I.P., Flavio II

R.I.P., Flavio III

Bee Startup

2009-04-26T16:08:00.000-07:00

"Lookit -- some bees are trying to make a hive right on my garage. They're just getting started."

"How do you know it's bees?"

"There's a bee right there."

"Oh. Weird."

"Yeah."

"You should take a picture of the hive and then kill it."

Musical Flight

2009-04-23T07:20:00.000-07:00

Short note that my pal & fellow contra-dancer Leah will be playing a couple hours of classical music starting at 5:30 tomorrow (Friday) at RayLen Vineyards as part of the Sky Meadow Strings trio. I expect it will be an entertaining couple hours with wine, fine music, and nice weather... My other understanding is that this concert is ultimately being performed to help the trio advance their noble goal (?) of collecting beer money to help kick the weekend off with a bang, so donations are appreciated.

Here's a link for more information -- hope to see you there!

http://www.raylenvineyards.com/index.php/Future-Events/

Bad-Ass Turtle

2009-04-21T15:10:00.000-07:00

I was biking around Reynolda Gardens today when I bumped into this guy, definitely one of the most bad-ass turtles I've seen in a while, clocking in at maybe 2 1/2 to 3 feet from head to tail:

This picture was about as close as I wanted to get to him -- I got a little closer at one point and he snapped and sort of hissed at me. I like my fingers and other extremities, so I left him be.

I think that a good name for this feller is "Soup". As in "Sup, Soup?" or similarly: "Sup? Soup."

Two brief Texas Pete brunch stories

2009-04-19T09:50:00.000-07:00

I was at Christopher's for brunch some time ago with my mom & DJ Dan enjoying their amazing Lobster Mac & Cheese, when the waitress came up to me and asked if she could take our bottle of Texas Pete for another guest. "Well, we don't have any more bottles of Texas Pete," she explained, "and, well... the owner of Texas Pete is sitting in the other room."

In addition to Krispy Kreme donuts, Winston-Salem is the original home to Texas Pete hot sauce, and so I find it frequently as the featured hot sauce in Winston's various Sunday brunches.

Today, DJ Dan and I did another brunch, this time at Sixth and Vine.** Most brunch entrees at Sixth and Vine come with country-style potatoes and a side of fruit -- pineapple, strawberries, and grapes. I saw DJ Dan pour something strange on top of his pineapple slices.

"You should try putting Texas Pete on your pineapple... I've never done it before, but it's pretty tasty." He said it reminded him of sort of a Thai-style sauce.

I dabbed my pineapple into a pool of Texas Pete. Mmmmm.... "You're right!"

-----
** Winston-Salem tip: We were supposed to be joined by another friend for brunch, who never showed up... for the record Sixth and Vine is NOT the address of Sixth and Vine, and so you should not tell someone it is when they ask for directions.

Pickles the Cat Theme Song

2009-04-14T10:16:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, I posted a heart-warming story about the cat that often hangs out in my yard, and asked readers to give the cat a name.

The winner was JaryMane, who suggested the name "Pickles", which somehow seemed to fit to me given that the "Pickle Man" is one of my favorite starting hands to play in Texas Hold'Em (**privileged insider information). In any case, I subsequently commissioned JaryMane to write a song in honor of Pickles the Cat, to be sung to the tune of Winnie the Pooh -- this is what she came with:

Pickles the cat
Pickles the cat
Furry little feline I'll make you fat
it's Pickles the cat
Pickles the cat
DW's sorta kinda maybe pet....

The lyrics appear to be largely inspired by JaryMane's sense that it was horrible that I wasn't actually feeding the cat (Line 3 in particular seems to be wishful thinking). In fact, JaryMane even decided to forgo her payment for the song (which was going to be SUBSTANTIAL, btw) under the condition that "you have to make Pickles a bowl now. That was part of the deal."

Make Pickles into a bowl? That's gross! But OK JaryMane, whatever you say...

When Life Hands you Hamburger, Make Diamonds

2009-04-11T18:26:00.000-07:00

I held my first barbecue of the year on a rainy day about a week ago, where I cooked hamburgers, sausages, and pulled pork barbecue. An ambitious plan, but I am an ambitious person. Some of the guests asked if there was anything I needed help with, and I demurred, saying that I had it all under control because I am a man and I don't need anybody's help on the grill because I can handle it myself okay so just get a drink and things will be done when they are done don't insult me with such a question already thanks bye-bye now.

In any case, after awhile I took the pork off the grill and disappeared into the kitchen to cut it into bite-size pieces. I suppose I became a bit too involved with this, as I came back 10 minutes later to find the whole grill was a flaming fireball. I snapped this picture about an hour later:
You can see the nicely carbonized hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill. My favorite part is the plastic handle that you can see on the edge of the grill... if you look farther to the left you can see some metallic wire bristles that used to be attached to this handle. About a week later now I still haven't cleaned the grill because my damn grill brush is now... a permanent part of the grill. Just great.

I'll give it another go sometime soon.

Spring in Charlottesville

2009-04-07T15:31:00.001-07:00

Didn't make it to D.C. for the cherry blossom festival this year, but I was able to do the next best thing and see the trees blooming on a short trip through Charlottesville, VA a couple days ago. Here are some trees that I felt compelled to make a stop for on the way through town:
As for Winston, trees are beginning to bloom here as well... the most immediate effects seems to be that the trees over my house are shedding a bunch of crap on my roof. Upside of spring: nice warm weather, beautiful flowers. Downside: yard work... sigh...

Best Tacos? Mexico, Gringo

2009-03-24T10:02:00.001-07:00

The original King Taco truck: a vehicle filled with more devine goodness than the Pope-mobile.

The final stop on my Taco Quest in California was to East L.A. -- home of King Taco itself. On a hot tip from J.J.'s friend, we had learned that there were two excellent taco joints to explore: the aforementioned King Taco, and Taco Real, just blocks from one another. We set out to see who was the real king of tacos -- names notwithstanding.

As we stood in line at King Taco, we saw a woman in line and asked her, "If you had to choose one, which would you say is better: King Taco, or Taco Real?"

She took a moment and then replied, "Mexico."

I laughed, "Well, I agree, but unfortunately we're sort of stuck here, and it might take awhile before we can make it down to Mexico."

I said this before realizing that what her answer meant was that she didn't understand the question I asked her at all. And then I realized that we were the only non-Hispanic people in line.

In other words, we were in the right place.

For the record, King Taco wins!

F#%*ed up Food Post of the Day

2009-03-17T21:03:00.000-07:00

Before continuing onto Part 2 of TacoQuest LA, I felt it important to post a disturbing item that was brought to my attention by friend-of-the-blog Holly, who had recently attended a baby shower and spotted this cake:

Apparently the baby cake was named "Sophie" (incidentally the name the expecting mother plans to give her own baby -- the mother's idea), and was made with red velvet cake.

I don't know what strange chemicals must be coursing through this woman's body to make her think of such a thing... I am appalled. However, here is an illuminating video showing how you too can create your own baby cake.

Red velvet!? I mean, c'mon... really?

Taco Quest Continues: The Whole Cow, Nothing but the Cow

2009-03-11T10:46:00.000-07:00

Last week, I made it out to L.A. to continue my ongoing quest for some of the finer tacos this side of the border. In particular, I was interested in retracing the steps of intrepid New York Times reporter Cindy Price, who wrote an impressive article on the authentic taquerias in the greater LA area, just as I was discovering tacos in Central Illinois. In this two-part series, I detail some of the highlights of my own taco expedition.

Some of the fine tacos at Lilly's Taqueria... I think that the taco de ojo is the third one.

With my friend J.J. joining me for the trip, we headed to Santa Barbara to recreate some of the major highlights of Cindy's trip. First stop: Lilly's Taqueria, where they serve lots of cow parts: eye tacos (taco de ojo), lip tacos (taco de labio), and cheek tacos (tacos de cachete), and finally head tacos (taco de cabeza -- what part of the head, you ask? I don't know!!). Many of these were animal parts that had not really occurred to me as possibly being food prior to the visit to Lilly's. But I ordered them all.

Of course the highlight was the taco de ojo -- I'd been looking forward to trying it for some time. Due to some prior arm-twisting, I had elicited an agreement from J.J. to take a bite of the taco de ojo herself, however I didn't force her to follow through with this when we got there... the eye taco tasted alright but had sort of a gooey slimey quality to it. Also, right after I told her she was safe, I took another bite and encountered a bit that tasted something like tough cartilege (presumably this would have been J.J.'s bite). This caused me to wonder if I had bitten into an iris or something, but I didn't dwell on it and kept munching. Best not to think about these things.

Next we headed to La Super Rica. The NYT's Cindy Price had gotten my hopes up that I might spot some David Crosby-class celebrities here, but there was no one here that I recognized. Their taco menu was a lot more limited than Lilly's -- I think their options were parsed down to steamed and grilled pork and steak, and I must admit that both were mighty tasty. The line here stretched out the door, which I've heard is pretty typical at La Super Rica. As I bit into my steak taco I wondered whether there might be some inverse relationship between the number of weird animal parts served and the length of the line stretching out the door. With happy faces and full bellies, we headed back to L.A., where the taco journey continues...

Next time on Taco Quest: East L.A. and beyond!

March Roars in Like a Lion

2009-03-02T12:08:00.000-08:00

Well, since there wasn't much snow of note through December, January, and February, I guess it was only fitting that we would get a couple inches of snow dumped down in the beginning of March. My friends Paul and Jen were visiting from Atlanta, where they don't get so much snow really, so around 10PM we sauntered down to Grace Court and to check out the scene. Along the way we saw the snow cause a branch to snap off a tree and a transformer on a power line light the sky a bright blue when it nearly blew up right over our heads. Good times!

A couple pictures below:

	Jen reenacts her favorite Christmas Story scene.
	Me in the snow
	Grace Court on a snowy night...

Seared Cookie With Ice Cream

2009-02-24T20:18:00.000-08:00

I was discussing a favorite dessert idea of mine with my friend Charlotte earlier this evening. The idea was basically that with the long recent history of popularity for chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, people had neglected an even better dessert option: chocolate chip cookie ice cream. Basically, the idea is that one actually bakes the cookie dough, and then after taking it out of the oven puts a piping hot cookie at the bottom of a bowl and tops it with a scoop of a good vanilla ice cream. Viola!

Charlotte then astounded me with her own innovation (incidentally, a similar idea had been proposed to me independently by J.J. days before). Instead of baking the cookies for the full amount of time (say, 12 minutes), one bakes them for only about half the time (say, 6 minutes). This causes the outsides of the cookies to be baked, while the insides are still doughy and gooey. The result? You get the best of both worlds: hot cookie and cookie dough with your ice cream. Brilliant!

But then I thought about it for a bit, and proposed that we take it one step further. "You know how at good restaurants they will often cook steaks at temperatures as high as possible for just a minute or two on each side, so that the steaks will have a nice sear while still being practically rare in the center?"

"Um... no."

"Well, they do." I then proposed that one might go about baking cookies for only half the time recommended on the package, as Charlotte suggested, but do so at about 100 degrees hotter than the temperature recommended. This would give more time for the cookies to form some of that delicious hot cookie crust, while still leaving the middle soft and gooey -- the best of both worlds, but even more so! And yes, the cookie equivalent of a seared steak served medium rare. Mmmm...

I tried it this evening, and damn, it was delicious! Below is a picture I snapped of the dessert in all its gooey, crusty goodness... Gourmet Magazine, eat your heart out!

Southern Movie Fest

2009-02-23T20:48:00.000-08:00

My friend J.J. paid a visit to Winston-Salem for a couple days and we took the opportunity to blaze through a slew of southern movies -- most of which I hadn't seen before.

To get the Southern moviefest started, we popped in Junebug -- one of my favorite movies of all time. It was on the top five list even before I discovered that it was filmed in Winston-Salem (apparently a number of other movies have been shot in part in Winston-Salem, ranging from Leatherheads to Thank You For Smoking).
After this, we went old school and watched Gone With The Wind. I had never watched it before, and now I am all the more confident that I will never have to watch it again. After almost four hours, if I have to hear Scarlet say "Oh, Ashley!" one more time I might have to kill myself.
Next up we watched Deliverance, the point of which seems to be either (a) a cautionary tale to avoid canoeing down rivers in the south, (b) an opportunity to show Bruce Reynolds shirtless, shooting things with a bow and arrow, or (c) an attempt to make people feel a twinge of fear whenever they hear "Dueling Bangos."
Not done yet, we shifted to Fried Green Tomatoes. Interestingly, I think this marked the second movie that I've seen with Kathy Bates swinging a sledgehammer. This movie was a little less scary than the first, but after viewing this one I will nonetheless probably find myself hesitating a bit before digging into the food at my next barbecue.

Contra Insurgency!

2009-02-09T20:11:00.000-08:00

One of the things I missed most after being out of town for the better part of the last month and a half has been contra dancing on those fine Tuesday nights at the Vintage Ballroom.

I had heard of contra dancing before I moved to Winston, but really had no idea what it meant. I imagined that it was some sort of Latin dance. Well... no. Actually, it's much more like square dancing, except with hippies. As you can see in my little video from last Tuesday, some of the best leads are women (I'm talkin' about you, Jess!) and many of the dancers seem to think that shoes are optional or just get in the way. This is precisely the sort of dance that you would suspect would be big in Crunchytown, and my understanding is that it's huge there.

The Search for ESPN360

2009-01-31T17:14:00.000-08:00

My plan to watch the Federer/Nadal final at the Aussie Open in Australia -- an event only 20 times more important than the Superbowl, only with worse commercials -- has been a complicated one.

Since I don't have cable, watching it on TV doesn't seem to be an option. BUT, I did discover that the game will be broadcast live online through ESPN360. A quick tour of their website (www.espn360.com) reveals that they "broadcast" all sorts of things through that channel, if you don't mind watching your sports through a computer monitor, including the Demon Deacons traumatizing loss today to some ACC cellar-dwellers. (Why do the Deacons have to start losing games just when I start caring?? **sniffles**)

In any case, a kink in the plan occurred when I discovered that my internet service provider -- Time Warner Cable -- does not support ESPN360! How could they do this? Apparently AT&T and Verizon both allow a person to watch events online through ESPN360, but not Time Warner. Lucky for me, it appears that I'll be able to leach onto a local stranger's unsecured network to watch the Aussie men's tennis final (thanks "Madam M", whoever you are...). But if Time Warner doesn't start supporting this in the future, I may choose to vote with my dollars to switch horses and give AT&T's internet service a spin.

Time Warner, you are on the clock, and it is ticking!

Mmmm.... A taco interlude

2009-01-29T19:57:00.000-08:00

Sorry folks: I must admit that I have been struggling to find time to blog now that work has been piling up at the start of the year.

HOWEVER, as Winston-Salem's occasionally intrepid taco adventurer, I did feel it was my duty to put work aside, take a short timeout, and make a quick post to spread the world about this most amazing taco from Taco Town (thanks J.J. for bringing this beauty to my attention):

Mmm... taco. The only thing this baby is missing? That's right: Chicken McNuggets.

I swear, there will be some more substantial posts sometime soon.

Mr. Obama goes to Washington

2009-01-22T17:34:00.000-08:00

A couple pictures from the Inauguration:

	It took us about two hours from the time we started walking near the Capitol to when we ended up at this joint near the Washington Monument to catch the Inauguration Ceremony. A good view of (just a SMALL) part of the crowd...
	At one point I hoisted up some young kid in the air so he wouldn't be stuck watching people's butts as Obama was taking the oath of office. But we also found that other kids had elevated themselves above the masses through other creative means...
	At the Eastern Ball, J.J. and I somehow found ourselves standing right next to Massachusetts Governor Patrick's wife, Diane Patrick, who had made it through the crowd to join us as we watched James Taylor perform.
	Finally, the Obamas made a surprisingly early appearance. President Obama talked briefly with the crowd, then danced with his First Lady Michelle for approximately 2 minutes before leaving. Total length of the visit: maybe 10 minutes max. But I still managed to snap off over 20 photos :-)

Another post about toilet paper

2009-01-16T19:54:00.001-08:00

This is what they did to the main quad at Wake Forest after the Deacons won a big game against Carolina:I'm not sure how I feel about a university that encourages TP-ing the Quad. I heard that the old basketball coach Skip Prosser even joined in with the students on a couple occasions. Doesn't it feel like officially condoning TP-ing would somehow take out all the fun?

A New Day in Fairweather Land

2009-01-12T00:21:00.000-08:00

AP Photo/Chuck Burton

Well, I thought that my local Fairweather season may have come to a close after the Wake Forest men's soccer team got eliminated from the NCAA tournament in December, but it has come to my attention that the Deacons are also fielding an amazing basketball team this season.

It is perhaps interesting to note that my fandom of the University of Illinois' Fighting Illini basketball team only took off after the Illini crushed (krushed?) the #1 Demon Deacons in December of 2004 to catapult past the Deacs and claim the #1 seed themselves.

Oh well... I will go wherever the fairweather winds blow. Go Deacs!

Old Scores to Settle

2009-01-07T14:08:00.000-08:00

**DISCLAIMER: Some will find this post to be a little disgusting, I suspect.

As a Seattle-ite and fairweather fan, I was naturally pumped to see the Seahawks go to the Superbowl a couple years ago to face the Pittsburgh Steelers in Detroit. My friend Melissa was a die-hard Steeler fan, and so this provided an opportunity to begin some very pleasurable smack-talk.

Eventually, Melissa gifted me a package of Steelers napkins, and so I sent her this email reply:

"I wanted to thank you for the Steelers napkins that you gave me. Haven't used them yet, but when I run out of toilet paper, I will make sure to use them. This of course will be roughly analogous to what the Seahawks are going to do to your Steelers in Detroit."

Of course, we know how this ended up: some crooked referees ended up handing the game to the Steelers on a silver platter. But that isn't the end of this story. Fast-forward to two days ago, where I got back from my extended trip and found that the toilet paper in my bathroom was gone. What had my resourceful roommate decided to use instead while I was out of town? That's right. The Steeler napkins. I had not told him this story, and yet he also intuitively grasped the most appropriate use for Steelers napkins.

SEE YOU IN HELL, PITTSBURGH STEELERS! The Seahawks just suck so damn bad this year that I'll continue to live in the past thank you very much.

Dispatch from the SoCal beat

2009-01-06T10:31:00.000-08:00

I've been out of town for almost three weeks in sunny Southern California, and, as is my way, went into a pretty thorough blog-shutdown mode while on vacation. This led to leaving a big downer as my last post for a period of almost two weeks (sorry!). I assure you, I was not spending the last two weeks mourning as much as enjoying everything Sunny CA had to offer. Since it looks like I'll be back there soon, methinks I'll be adding SoCal as another part of my beat ("a Northwesterner writes about life in the Southwest?").

A couple highlights:

ArcLight Movie Binge. The ArcLight cinemas boast the finest audio and visual experience of any theater in the nation. DW2 and I went over there first to see The Wrestler -- which is a stupid movie to use to appreciate these things given the movie's deliberately gritty video style. So... I went back there with my good friend J.J. and proceeded to watch Milk, Revolutionary Road, and Frost/Nixon...
... All great movies!, and as of today's check, Winston-Salem is 0 for 4 on showing any of them.
Weather! I was in Palm Springs for Christmas, and so instead of having a White Christmas somewhere, I was resigned to plucking grapefruits, lemons, limes, and oranges off the trees in 65 degree weather. I had a lot of time to miss the chilly winter weather I've been accustomed to as I drank fresh-squeezed orange juice by the pool.
Food, food, food! I was very intent on following Cindy Price's path up the California coast to try some of her picks for the finest tacos around. Unfortunately, we hit Santa Barbara on a day when all of the taco joints were closed. J.J. and I thus shifted gears and discovered The Palace, which served Cajun food, and where I had some of the best scallops I've ever had... they were so perfectly cooked that they melted in your mouth. Back in LA, we discovered Jitlada, rumored to serve the hottest Thai food in Thai-town. We tried the Thai mussels, which featured the biggest mussels I've ever seen (and also the greenest) in a sort of lemongrass broth. For the record: Thai basil is amazing on mussels.

There is much more to write about from the L.A. experience. However, suffice it to say that outside of 8-dollar beers at some places on the Sunset Strip, L.A. was not quite the contemptible town that I had prepared myself to encounter. I can't wait to go back!

My Dog Annie: 1993-2008

2008-12-26T18:39:00.000-08:00

Today our family decided to put our dog Annie to sleep after the vet told us that she was suffering from kidney failure and ulcers, and that she was no longer eating or drinking.

Annie was a wonderful dog... she was a big fan of running and bird-hunting. Many a pheasant met their match through Annie's dedicated and skillful sleuthing in the fields. Until the last year or two of her life, Annie only had two speeds: stop, and sprint. She also had an impressive talent for taking off on short hikes, getting lost for hours on end, and then nonchalantly showing up back home after successfully eluding the search parties sent out to find her.

Annie lived a long happy life, and she will be missed.

My Cat

2008-12-25T01:39:00.000-08:00

As I walked out of my house to get to my car on my way out of town, I noticed this cat sitting on a pile of pine nettles. The cat looked at me for a couple seconds before getting up and walking away. I decided to chase the cat down and take a picture of it, because I've seen the cat sitting in that same pile of pine nettles so often that I feel like it might as well be my cat. Sadly, I have never been able to pet my cat... This picture is about the closest I've ever gotten to the cat (it was taken about 10 feet away).

I still haven't figured out a name for my cat. Right now I'm thinking "Snookums."

Brunches in Winston-Salem

2008-12-18T08:35:00.000-08:00

With the help of SarahSouth, JaryMane and others, I have been working hard to become an expert on Sunday brunches in Winston-Salem. Here are a couple highlights... I'll probably try to update this post retroactively from time to time.

Mary's, Of Course! The name is ridiculous, but the food is ridiculously good (I've probably been there a dozen times). They are very vegan friendly, which means JaryMane isn't resigned to eating side-salads or whatever it is vegans eat for breakfast at unaccommodating places. Also, very impressive/disturbing collection of Tammy Faye memorabilia. Faves: Breakfast burrito (w/ sausage); the tofu scrambles/burritos are terrific -- even for non-vegans.

Cat's Corner: I had never made it out to this place until about a month ago. I love the way the space is laid out - an open-air cafe with tables looking out into different stores around the Stevens Center. Faves: Andy's Pecan Crusted Trout (off the hook!)

Christopher's: This place is strangely located in a big house in the middle of a residential area. But the food is amazing, and eating here somehow makes you feel very classy and sophisticated. Faves: splurge and get the Lobster Macaroni and Cheese... they do NOT skimp on the lobster!

River Birch Lodge: I was staring hard at the Veggie Frittata on their menu - which comes with asparagus tips, tomato, red onion, roasted corn, eggplant, wild mushrooms, roasted red peppers and smoked cheddar cheese. I decided it was missing only one thing: ham. I asked them to add some to the frittata and they did so free of charge. It was so, so, so very good.... Faves: Veggie Frittata (w/ ham)

First St. Draught House: A newcomer on the brunch scene. I went there w/ SarahSouth and co., and while they have some kinks to work out (instant grits?!) most of the food was pretty impressive. Also, where else can you get a pint of Guiness for breakfast? Faves: Carolina Crabcake Benedict.

...more to come! So much research to do...

New Post

2008-12-17T06:05:00.000-08:00

I finally bumped into our wonderful local blogger (and fellow A.U. alum!) Esbee on today's trip to Simply Yummy. She chastised me for not blogging at all in over a week, and said that she was thinking of posting a comment somewhere on my blog to register a formal complaint.

FINE. I'LL WRITE A NEW POST ALREADY!! Geez... give me a break...

Not So Happy-Go-Lucky: Winston-Salem and the Art-House

2008-12-07T03:01:00.000-08:00

After hearing a passionate endorsement of the movie Happy-Go-Lucky by an NPR film reviewer about a month ago, I was determined to watch it. I ended up going to moviefone.com and doing a search for the nearest place where I could watch the movie. The closest place ended up being Washington, DC, a good 300+ miles away. This in turn partially prompted me to embark on what eventually became my sugar-addled DC trip.

Since then, the movie's made it to Charlotte, Greensboro, Asheville, Raleigh, Durham, and Chapel Hill, but not Winston. So the moral seems to be that if you're willing to drive, say, up to 100 miles, you can generally find the movie you're looking for if you give it a couple weeks. But generally, an art-house movie is hard to find in this town. I regularly attended the North Carolina School of the Arts' Films on Fourth movies last year, which brought in some great movies. But then the series ended last December, because there wasn't enough interest and attendance to keep them going. Outside of the RiverRun Film Festival in April (mark your calendar!), this town's got nothin'.

C'mon people! If this town is supposed to be known as North Carolina's "City of the Arts," we can do better than this!

Barry: 7th Wonder of Winston-Salem

2008-12-02T21:43:00.001-08:00

Tonight I ended up at the IHOP on the corner of Silas Creek and Peter's Creek Parkways with about 18 people sitting at one enormous table. Our waiter Barry came to take our orders, and after he was through about a dozen of them, I realized that he wasn't writing these orders down anywhere. Some of these orders included requests to hold a couple ingredients, add some others, or requests for items not actually on the menu.

At this point I turn to my friend Laura and say, "I'll bet you 5 bucks that this guy screws up at least one order."

Laura quickly takes the bet. "You haven't been here before. Barry NEVER screws up an order."

True to form, Barry got every damn order correct, right down to the subtracted and added ingredients, and I had to hand Laura the fiver. I then proclaimed that "Barry was the 7th Wonder of Winston-Salem."

Laura then asks "What are the other six?"

Eh, still working on it.

Thanksgiving? Yes We Can!

2008-12-01T22:10:00.000-08:00

I had a couple people over for Thanksgiving this year, marking the first time that I have ever hosted a Thanksgiving dinner ever! And they said it couldn't be done. Or shouldn't be done.

All the guests chipped in to help out, and it was amazing. As is my way, I threw pretty much every course onto the plate at once. And then I snapped a photo:
On the menu:

1. Cranberry Ginger Compote (courtesy of K.C. Recipe unknown. Delicious!)
2. Roasted Root Vegetables (courtesy of K.C. Featuring carrots, sweet potatoes, and... parsnips huh? I didn't know they still made those...)
3. Salmon steaks (courtesy of Little John*)
4. Turkey (I cooked it... And it was still edible, too!)
5. Rolls (I got $2 off the $2.99 rolls at Harris Teeter on Thanksgiving Day. Awesome...)
6. Herbed Oyster Stuffing (Recipe from Epicurious.com. Delicious! Also led to my first ever attempts at shucking oysters. Comic.)
7. Kale and Olive Oil Mashed Potatoes (recipe from 101Cookbooks.com. Possibly too garlicky. I never thought I would say that.)

... And of course everything was thoroughly drenched in turkey gravy, as it should be.

I love Thanksgiving!

Is it just me or is Little John enjoying his slicing/dicing of the turkey a little too much?

* Sorry buddy. But when you work with Big John, you're gonna get stuck with Little John. Dems da breaks.

Free Food & Drink @ Crunchytown's Mellow Mushroom

2008-11-30T06:38:00.000-08:00

K.C. and her husband Solar joined me for a recent trip to Asheville, my favorite beautiful town. K.C. was hankering for pizza, so we went to Asheville's Mellow Mushroom.

It took a while to get a table, and then even after getting our table we hadn't received our menus or otherwise talked with a waiter for a good 15 minutes. So I eventually hailed a waiter, and a stout bald guy covered with tattoos came to help us. The waiter seemed genuinely apologetic for the delay, and had clearly taken it upon himself to make our remaining experience at the Mellow Mushroom a wonderful one. "I'm so sorry for the wait... I'll put your food order in as a rush order, and we'll it out to you as soon as possible!" In the meantime, I ordered the local Pisgah Seasonal beer, K.C. ordered a hard cider, and Solar a water.

A couple minutes later, the waiter came back with a Pisgah Pale, which I noted was not the beer I ordered. This might not have been such a big deal if I liked pale ales, but generally I don't. "Oh my gosh..." he sighed, apparently dismayed with himself, "Well, you can keep that one, and I'll bring the Seasonal right out." Soon I was stocked with two full beers (both were pretty good).

I get started on my complimentary beers and salad. With or without utensils...

The waiter then came back unannounced with a beautiful Greek salad, which he explained was complimentary for all the delays. This unexpected gesture was very nice of him, but after he left, I discovered that we had been left with a new dilemma, which I explained to K.C.:

"As I see it, we now have to make one of two choices, neither of them good. One, we can let the waiter know that he forgot to bring us utensils, which will probably make him feel really bad. Or two, we can just eat the salad without the utensils, and then ask for utensils when the main food comes out, and hope that he doesn't realize that we just ate our appetizer without utensils, which runs the risk of possibly making him feel REALLY bad."

In the end, we chose the first option, and were met with the predictable unpleasant wave of apologies... Poor guy...

New Photo

2008-11-30T06:33:00.000-08:00

The new profile picture was taken by Blue Ridge Grass contributor K.C. on a weekend trip to Crunchytown. You have a gift, baby!

STYLISTA betting pool

2008-11-26T20:02:00.000-08:00

"Hannie" -- our hero(-ine)!!

Despite encouraging her readers to watch the CW show STYLISTA week after week... (...after week after week after week), SarahSouth confessed to me today that she probably would not find the show very interesting if it wasn't for the fact that one of her bestest friends in the world Johanna ("Hannie") was on the show. Shocker, I know! Her paraphrased words, not mine!

In contrast to FairweatherFan SarahSouth, who apparently will stop caring about the show the moment Hannie is eliminated, I have been thoroughly enjoying the show -- each seems to be replete with plenty of crying and catty verbal barbs. We even get occasional bonuses like a hospitalizing panic attack. But of course, there is a surefire way to make anything more interesting: senseless betting.

So although we are nearing the end, it is not too late to start a casual little STYLISTA betting pool. There are only five contestants remaining: Ashlie, DyShaun, Kate, Megan, and HANNIE(!). So here's the rules: Submit your predictions of the final ranks of the last five contestants any time between now and next Tuesday. After each week, you will get 1 point for predicting the people that will be eliminated by the end of that week. So for instance, if you think that Ashlie and DyShaun will be the eliminated in that order, but DyShaun is eliminated first followed by Ashlie the next week, you will receive zero points the first week (for failing to guess that DyShaun would be eliminated first), but two points the following week (for correctly guessing that both DyShaun and Ashlie would be eliminated by the end of that week). Etc.

To make it interesting, the winner at the end of the day will receive a paid lease for an apartment in downtown Manhattan, and a one-year clothing allowance at H&M valued at $100,000. Ties will be settled by deathmatch. Limit one vote per reader.

WFU vs. W&M -- a Tale of Two Fairweather Fans

2008-11-25T18:37:00.000-08:00

The Wake Forest men's soccer team is ranked #1 in the nation, and so that means this year I'm a soccer fan (just as I became a new Illinois basketball fan when Illinois became ranked #1 in the nation). So on a frigid Tuesday evening, I decided to go to a playoff game with my friend Mike, who faced an interesting dilemma: The #1 Demon Deacons were facing off against William & Mary. Since Mike was an alumnus of William & Mary who now works at Wake, who would he root for? Would he pick his old school, or would he pick Wake -- OUR team, the team that paid his bills?

In the end, he took the wimpy position that he was just rooting for either team to score. As a Deac fan I informed him that his position was "still traitorious, you traitor." But mostly he just wanted the game to end, and as the score stayed locked at 0-0 and the temperature drifted toward freezing, eventually I appreciated the logic of his position. As regulation ended, we faced the prospect of spending up to another hour in the freezing cold between extra periods and penalty shots. Luckily though, Wake scored 4 minutes into the first sudden-death overtime, putting a quick end to the game. Mike and I high-fived and breathed a sigh of relief, and then parted by running back to our respective cars, turning on the engines, and blasting the heat.

DW2's Infinite Playlist

2008-11-23T17:47:00.000-08:00

My brother DW2 is living in Los Angeles, and I'm pumped that I will be able to see him in a couple weeks around Christmas. DW2 is positioning himself to be the next big thing in Rock N' Roll. (In particular, he intends to be the next Jimi Hendrix... he's even learned to play guitar both left- and right-handed, so that now he just has to commit to setting the occasional guitar on fire.)

To celebrate my arrival, he said he would try to play a couple songs for me at one of the open mic nights in town. I ended up sending him a CD with about 40+ songs that I thought would work pretty well in an open-mic acoustic set, ranging from the Pixies' "Here Comes Your Man" to Stevie Wonder's "For Once In My Life." But the one I was most excited about was to hear him try to craft a version of Joni Mitchell's "California". For some reason it struck me that with some very minor alterations of the lyrics, this would be an awesome song for a male vocalist to sing (even if it's not exactly Jimi Hendrix-esque). I'm picturing the singer giving it sort of a Greg Brown folksy treatment:

Sitting in a park in Paris, France
Reading the news and it sure looks bad
They won't give peace a chance
That was just a dream some of us had
Still a lot of lands to see
But I wouldn't want to stay here
It's too old and cold and settled in its ways here
Oh, but California
California, I'm coming home
I'm going to see the folks I dig
I'll even kiss the Sunset Pig
California, I'm coming home.

Oh California, I'm a-comin'! I'm going to see the folks I dig, and if I bump into the Sunset Pig I'll be sure to blow it a kiss.

Fall Foliage in Review

2008-11-21T07:25:00.000-08:00

I walked outside today and spotted a quarter inch of snow on the car roofs and on the piles of fallen leaves. This prompted a "WTF!?" and made me wonder whether our string of Indian Summer-ish fall days were coming to a close. Indeed, a look at the 10-day forecast shows a nasty run of 50 degree highs with the occasional scattered snow showers (more WTF!?'s to go around!).

So I thought it would only be fitting to say goodbye to a wonderful fall with a couple recent pictures of the fall foliage.

	A view from Crowders Mountain just outside of Charlotte, NC
	Walking down a side-street in Georgetown -- just minutes away from cupcakes...

Goodbye Fall '08 -- we hardly knew ya.

That's Why They Call it a "Cupcake Transport Device"

2008-11-17T19:13:00.000-08:00

We had a couple left over cupcakes from Cupcake Binge '08, and were having a beast of a time trying to figure out how we might be able to split the remaining cupcakes among ourselves to take home. By this time Sarah had finished drinking her chai latte, and had happened upon this brilliant idea for transporting her mint chocolate cupcake back home:

Someone else suggested that perhaps she would take her own cupcake back in her bra. To which I responded, "they're not called bra-cakes now, are they?!"

Cupcake Wars

2008-11-17T11:10:00.000-08:00

A friendly cupcake-pusher next
to the goods at Baked & Wired

I decided to visit DC last weekend to visit friends, and discovered that I had walked right into the middle of a war -- for the last two or three months, the residents of Washington, DC has been searching high and low, near and far for the best cupcake in town.

Darcy asked if I would be interested in joining the hunt on Sunday with our friends Sarah, Michelle, and Shanley. I put on my coat, surrendered my man-card at the door, and went out a-hunting for the perfect cupcake.*

We soon found ourselves at the Georgetown Mall with a dozen cupcakes from Georgetown Cupcake, half a dozen from Baked and Wired, and two from Dean & DeLuca (at total of 20) to split between the 5 of us. We started our sampling by trying to match similar cupcakes from the different vendors: the red velvets, the coconut creams, and the carrot cupcakes, and as sugar-sickness set in I eventually suggested that "we shouldn't feel obligated to eat the next 10..."

A look at the Georgetown Cupcake's cupcakes. The missing coconut cupcake is in my belly.

Our general conclusion was that Georgetown Cupcake made the best, although Baked and Wired won in the important Carrot-Cupcake category. Oh yeah -- Dean and DeLuca's cupcakes were awful. At the end, we took votes for the best overall cupcake, and this ended in a split decision between Georgetown Cupcake's chocolate ganache cupcake (middle row, far left in picture to the side), and their coconut cupcake (unpictured). The key lime cupcake (upper left corner) also pulled in a first place vote.

Finally, below we have a video of some of the exercises we did along the Potomac to work off the ridiculous amount of cupcake we had just eaten:

* Darcy attempted to convince her husband Andy to come by suggesting that they had manly cupcake varieties like "Rock-N-Roll Razorblades" at the shops, but Andy was not fooled.

Two Americas: Part 4382910

2008-11-07T21:30:00.000-08:00

Blue America:
I ate lunch today with an African American friend of mine who got back from a trip to Chicago on Wednesday. She had bought her ticket months ago for a conference and was supposed to fly back to North Carolina on Tuesday. But when Tuesday arrived, it had became clear that win or lose, there was going to be "The Event" in Grant Park (as it was apparently called in Chi-Town). She decided that being there represented a sort of once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and decided to pay an extra $100 to delay her flight a day.

For whatever reason, I was fairly (perhaps overly) confident that Obama would win for months. Not so with my friend. She didn't suspect foulplay, she just couldn't convince herself that Americans would vote for a black President. She said that it wasn't until the results rolled in on the jumbotron announcing that Obama had won Ohio and Pennsylvania that she realized that she was going to be on hand hearing Barack Obama give a victory speech that night. Then the fact that Virginia voted for Obama -- a state that only a little over 40 years ago had "separate but equal" laws -- blew her mind.

Red America:
On the night of Barack Obama's victory speech, I received a forward from a conservative I know presenting a case that Obama was a clinical narcissistic. One piece of evidence: Obama has written his own memoirs before attaining power, just like Josef Stalin and Adolf Hitler. The writer of this essay warned that the consequences of putting a clinical narcissist like Obama in the seat of power might be informed by looking at the examples of Stalin and Hitler.

In the process of responding to this email, I also made it clear that I was disgusted with another forward I received from him showing a picture of Michelle Obama side-by-side with a picture of a chimpanzee. Today the conservative replied to this email with another one of his own simply titled "Sigh..." which read:

Why are certain people so selectively offended?

Liberal "Sophisticates" thought the type of stuff below was Pretty Funny especially in early 2000:

http://www.bushorchimp.com/
http://www.mrsockmonkey.com/topics/Pictures-Where-George-Bush-Looks-Like-a-Monkey/

Go ahead . . . google “Bush looks like monkey” and see what you get.

My response to this email? SIGH. . . . . . . . .

Blue Outpost

2008-11-05T07:33:00.000-08:00

Latest election results from NYTimes.com (11-5-08)

I've felt since I got here that North Carolina was on the front lines of the Red State/Blue State culture wars... sort of along the dividing line between the reliable reds of the deep south and the true blues of New England. On one hand, we have the Research Triangle which is home to some of the best universities in the country. On the other hand, you don't have to drive too far out of town to find Confederate flags waving proudly.

Well, North Carolina didn't disappoint me with my "blue outpost in the South" theory yesterday. It's amazing to think that after last night's votes were tallied, a female Democrat will be taking the Senate seat held for the last 35 years by Republicans Jesse Helms and Elizabeth Dole. And the state looks likely to eek into Barack Obama's column despite North Carolina never throwing their electoral votes to a Democratic Presidential candidate in the last 30 years... Amazing!

Best Thing about Being Bleeker

2008-11-01T20:49:00.000-07:00

In no other Halloween costume that I'm aware of can you wander up to a stranger at a party, introduce yourself by saying "I fucked you!" and then watch as she gives you a hug and a free pack of orange Tic-Tacs.

First Fortune-Reading

2008-10-31T10:13:00.000-07:00

I saw my new friend Cindy earlier today at the Krankster, who had a crystal ball by her side and a book on interpretation... apparently she will be on duty giving fortunes tonight at the DADA Community Center tonight for their Halloween festivities. I asked her if she could give me a reading and she agreed.

"What you need to do is count backwards from 20, and then ask me something you want to know from your future or past."

I did this, and then asked if she could give me some insight about who I would find myself with in my next relationship.

She asked me what colors I could see in the crystal ball. "I see some yellow, a little orange... And over here I can see some pink."

"Yellow has to do with work and business. So I would guess that you'll meet someone while you're doing something work-related. The pink indicates that there will be a lot of love and affection."

"Hmm... There are a couple conferences coming up I guess."

Then we noticed that the crystal ball was actually steaming. "What does it mean when the crystal ball is steaming?" I asked. She had no idea. I searched the internet for "steaming crystal ball" and found nothing. So we never figured that one out.

Hot, Hot, Hot!

2008-10-29T06:33:00.000-07:00

I located a list from my friend Michelle of the things she thought I should buy after my housewarming party:

- hot pads
- serving bowls
- baking sheet
- pizza stone
- grill utensils
- Swiffer
- chopping knives

This was all well and good, and I was working my way down the list just fine, until I realized only too late that the first item was actually "Hot Pads" and not "Hot Pants". The pictures from this misunderstanding are not shown. Instead, and as a little prelude to Halloween, I have posted a couple pictures of Bret buzzing around in B.F.F.'s fairy wings and generally looking pretty after Pumpkin Party #1 last weekend.

Pumpkin Carving in the West End

2008-10-27T15:57:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I showed up at a friend's pumpkin carving party in the West End. This ended up being my second pumpkin carving party in about three days (after being to a sum total of about zero in the last... two decades or so?) and I was so tired from carving the last one that I decided to just spectate and snap this photo of everyone else's fine work.

At the earlier party, I discovered that the downside of having an extremely large pumpkin with cool warty skin is that trying to cut things into it with those little pumpkin carving tools is something like trying to cut leather with a butter knife. Luckily however, there were a bunch of kids that were willing to pick up the slack on the carving duties at Pumpkin Party #2.

Trouble Brewin' at the Krankster

2008-10-23T15:51:00.000-07:00

Krankies recently started offering $2 off their wonderful & impressive selection of Belgian beers about two or three weeks ago and apparently will continue the deal... "till the offer ends." Naturally, upon discovering this momentous event I celebrated by drinking three Chimay's (clocking in at 7 to 9% alcohol) in about an hour.

I'll just note in closing that this particular reaction was not the best idea I've ever had...

Patio Art #2: The Skull of Love

2008-10-21T10:22:00.000-07:00

I was intrigued by Esbee's suggestion of following up my first contribution to patio art (Have a Nice Day on Dirty Concrete) with a power-wash drawing of "calaveras" (the Spanish word for "skulls"). Interesting... I could draw the bad-ass tattoo that I never gave myself on my patio! Sort of like vicarious wish fulfillment.

In any case, I drew this one yesterday:

Title: La Calavera de Amor

("The Skull of Love")

There was some intention of making this more bad-ass, but in the end I decided to draw lots of hearts around the skull, in the hopes that these happy, friendly touches would make my neighbors less scared/concerned about why I was drawing skulls on the patio.

----------
...Epilogue/Coda: What now? I have learned some interesting techniques for drawing on concrete with water since the first sketch, and it has been an exciting journey. Unfortunately my patio now looks something like a page of doodles and scribbles created by an 8-year-old, and it is time to clean the slate. Unfortunately, I am now learning that removing patio art is harder than creating it. Next step: Learning How to Remove Patio Art!

Drinkin' with the Commonfolk

2008-10-20T18:42:00.000-07:00

Between songs at Jenn and Andy's wedding reception in Bryson City, the bass-player from Commonfolk walked up to us and offered us a sip from his bottle of homemade moonshine. I was a little reluctant -- can't that stuff make you go blind? -- but this was the good corn stuff, and man, it was tasty. It tasted a lot like whiskey but had a nice subtle sweetness.

The next day, I was itching to get some moonshine for myself on the way out of town, but the moment was gone. I discovered only too late that you can't really get that stuff in stores, and I don't think it's legal to buy it from folks, either. If you want moonshine, you gotta have friends in the right places. I'm working some angles right now...

The Commonfolk play as Chauncey takes a hit from the bottle.

Patio Art #1

2008-10-16T21:24:00.000-07:00

As I was washing old paint off a wicker chair with a power washer on my back patio, I discovered that I could use it to "draw" on the ground. A couple days later, I drew this:

Title: "Have a Nice Day" on Dirty Concrete

Amazing but true! --The "i" on the word "nice" was originally undotted. The dot is a final touch added by a bird a day later.

What should I do for Patio Art #2?

Coffee Search in Crunchytown

2008-10-15T17:46:00.000-07:00

My friend C.C.B. and I had but a short time in Asheville, and our mission was simple: find iced coffee. The search started at The Cupcake Corner, where I asked the girl at the counter "What kind of iced coffee do you got?" She responded, "We got mocha java... Columbian..." And I interrupted with the really important question: "No no -- that's not what I meant at all. Ahem. Is your iced coffee cold-brewed?" (Yes, I am officially a iced coffee snob.)

Anyway, the girlwas very pleasant and pointed me to a place that sold cold-brewed iced coffee: The Green Sage Coffee House. We headed there, and yes, they advertised cold-brewed coffee on their menu. But I thought that it was a bit bitter. And C.C.B., who also cut her cold-brewed teeth on Cafe Kopi's wonderful iced coffee in Champaign agreed... it was not really The Stuff.

A shot of the Double-Decker Coffee Company taken on the way out of town. Man, this place was beautiful... I don't care what the coffee's like. If I lived in Asheville I would be at this place every sunny day.

Then I remembered a previous visit to Asheville where I had found WONDERFUL cold-brewed iced coffee. I arrived late one Saturday night with a friend to The Dripolator Coffeehouse. The place was packed and so we were forced to park next to a big garbage dumpster, which we weren't sure was a spot. When we got in, I found what I was looking for: The Dripolator served the finest iced coffee I've experienced in a coffee shop. It was absolutely terrific, and I sipped and enjoyed it in a state of pure bliss. However, when we got outside less than an hour later, we discovered that the car had been towed. Why?!? As I came to understand it from talking to a Dripolator server, it was because the owner of the Dripolator's building lived in eyeshot of the coffee shop and was a bitter, pathetic old man who had nothing better to do with his time than to look outside and call the towing company (presumably on speed-dial) when any towable infraction came around.

Ah, yes. Such good iced coffee, and ultimately such an unpleasant experience. So the next time you're in Crunchytown, you might try the Dripolator to meet your iced coffee needs. And while you're there, you might also leave some flaming poo on the landlord's doorstep. For me.

Wending Our Way Through Crunchytown

2008-10-14T16:26:00.000-07:00

A couple friends and I recently drove from Winston to the Smokies to see our friend Jenn get married (congrats! -- & more on the wedding later). Since my iPod was dead, we were reduced to listening to North Carolina radio for the entire trip. Which is awful... just awful. It seems like 95% of the stations are Christian Contemporary, or Pop-Country. Blech.

Luckily, a small oasis of music goodness was found when we passed through Asheville. We found a station there that was playing the Bluegrass Music Awards, and heard a couple gems. The one that really stuck out was Del McCoury's "Moneyland." I just thought it was awesome (here's a link).

We had enough time to make a lightning tour of Asheville before continuing to the wedding. We bought some cupcakes at "The Cupcake Corner" (a store which pretty much just sells... um... I can't remember), and then I got to the all-important task of seeing if I could locate some cold-brewed iced coffee for the road. We were on a tight schedule, so I wasn't quite able to find what I was looking for (more on this later also), but in half an hour we passed enough strange-looking people to convince me that Asheville truly was the great Granola Paradise I had heard so much about. Yes my friends: The legend is real.

In turn, this inspired me to write my own lyrics to be sung to the tune of "Moneyland."

CRUNCHYTOWN

Now it seems crunchy to me
When the people you see
Are reakin' of patchouli
As you wend your way through town

If you score some pot
Then you got a shot
To make more friends than not
If you pass that stuff around

You can go hikin' the Blue Ridge
Or catch a show at the Orange Peel
Spend some time at Malaprop's Books
Or find yourself a vegan meal

It's a crunchy nirvana
Stocked with marijuana
And its home to head shops
And white boys with dreadlocks
Its Crunchytown
Oh it might seem phony
'Til you're drunk and stoney
Its Crunchytown

Aaawooooooh, crunchy crunchy crunchy crunchy crunchy
Oooooh, hippie hippie hippie hippie hippie
Woooooooh, crunchy crunchy crunchy crunchy crunchy
Your clothes are made of hemp and you're chompin' on tempeh in Crunchytown

Kingergarten Teaching in Korea

2008-10-09T14:58:00.000-07:00

My sister Doodles sent me a little how-to guide on teaching kindergarten kids from her current station in Korea [click to enlarge]. I especially like the implication in the last panel that she is thinking wistfully about those golden days of corporal punishment. What have those kids done to you, Doodles?!?!

And also: "Hmm... " you ask. "What is a post on teaching Korean kindergarteners doing on a blog about living in the South," you ask? Well, rest assured, she is living in South Korea. (I would double-underline the word "South" if I knew how, for extra emphasis.) So count it!

Thai Sawatdee Lives!

2008-10-06T10:21:00.000-07:00

I talked to SarahSouth a week or two ago where she threw down this terrible piece of news: Thai Sawatdee -- the take-out Thai place in the Cloverdale Harris Teeter -- was closed! Gone! I was devastated.

But I soon discovered that the usually reliable SarahSouth had provided me with some unreliable info. Thai Sawatee was still there, still serving some of the best Thai food in town for the lowest prices around. In fact, it was never gone. Perhaps she was telling vicious lies. Perhaps she was delusional after a sugar high created by eating 12 donuts for $1.99, available just a few paces away from the take-out place in Harris Teeter's produce section. I know she drinks a lot of wine, so perhaps she was drunk. I don't know. But it is not important: I just wanted to get back to my Thai Sawatdee.

My friends Liz and Meghan were visiting from out of town, and and so we celebrated this by ordering amazing amounts of Thai food to bring back to my back porch. Afterwards, we erected a tower from the leftovers. I'll work through each level:

After lunch, Liz looks affectionately at our tribute to Thai food.

Level 1: Red Curry. Meghan ordered this, and it was very good. I didn't get the full experience because Meghan picked out all the pieces of eggplant for herself before I could try a single one. She said that these bits were the best of all, and that she was not interested in sharing.

Level 2: Green Curry. I ordered this, and specified that I wanted it at Spice Level 3 (is there a more elegant way to write this? Dunno...). The one complaint I have with Thai Sawatdee is that their food is usually underspiced by default, probably because of the local palette. Of course, they will make it as spicy as you like if you ask, but I have a tendency to forget this little detail.

Level 3: Tom Kha Soup. We all split two containers of this soup, made with coconut milk, mushrooms, tomatoes, and lemongrass. As you can see, almost all of it was gone at the end of the meal.

Level 4: Spicy Noodles. OK, you can't see in the box, but what's in there was delicious. Liz picked this one out per my suggestion... I order this entree all the time. The amount of food they give you with this is ridiculous (the box starts filled to the brim)!

Levels 5 and 6: Rice. The foundation of the Thai meal, and now the finishing touch on my Tasty Thai Tower.

This just in...

2008-10-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

I was pleased to discover today that my last entry on tacos can now be found on the very first page of results from a "taco de ojo" Google search. As you can see from the photograph, my link is about the 8th entry down or so, just a couple entries down from the scantily-clad, occasionally pornographic pictures that come up from the "taco de ojo" image results.

This is big time, folks! I am so pleased... I feel like the prettiest girl at the dance!

Why... So... Serious?

2008-09-26T05:37:00.000-07:00

Charlotte (the girl, not the city) recently showed me some pictures she took from her photo session with the bacteria "B. Cereus". I especially liked this one, which shows the bacteria as a tragic, Pac-Man type figure, world-weary from running away from his ghosts:

Charlotte writes about the picture: "The stain is indian blue. It is a negative stain, meaning that it stains the actual glass slide, leaving the bacteria unstained. It is viewed in a compound microscope in oil immersion under 1000x total magnification. I took the picture with my digital camera through the microscope's eyepiece; that's why it is sort of blurry. "

Krisp to the Kreme

2008-09-23T16:44:00.001-07:00

Holy shit, my friends. After 7pm at the Cloverdale Harris Teeter, something un-fucking-believable happens. Look at that sweet-ass sign: Twelve Krispy Kreme donuts for $1.99!

Harris Teeter just blew D.W.'s fucking mind.

Return to Chi-Town

2008-09-21T06:32:00.000-07:00

Rich and I made it back to Chicago yesterday to catch our friends Evan and Miranda's wedding reception. While I've been covering the Winston-Salem beat, Rich has been an hour down the road in Charlotte. Rich's experience in the South has been mixed. A couple days ago, I got an email from Rich where he said that he was "stuck at work because there's no gas in Charlotte, apparently, and I can't get home because my tank is empty." I think Rich spent that night sleeping at work. So... he had kind of a rough week. As we landed in Chicago, Rich felt like he was coming home.

Since we made it to town pretty early, we had about half a day to kill before festivities started. We started by getting lunch at the Lao Sze Chuan restaurant in Chinatown. We were afraid that we had ordered too much spicy food, and when the food arrived, it appeared our worst fears were confirmed. The "Chef's Special Dry Chili String Bean" that we ordered is below:

Luckily, by picking around the peppers the dish was not fatally hot. When we were through with it, there were about 30 uneaten red peppers left on the plate. I offered Rich 20 bucks to down the rest of it, but he declined, reminding me that he wasn't a grad student any more, and therefore didn't need to do stupid stunts for a quick buck anymore, either. So I tried a different tact:

Me: "If you do, it'll make for a good story."

Rich: "Really. And what story would that be."

Me: "The one where you earn your 20 bucks, but then end up stuck in the bathroom for three hours at Evan's wedding."

Rich: "That sounds more like a good story for you than for me."

...So to make a long story short, it didn't happen, and I am now reduced to writing a story of a story. Or something like that.

We next went to the Museum of Contemporary Art, where we saw a very interesting exhibit by Jeff Koons, and then made it to the wedding reception. The location was amazing: the "Library" bar on the 40th floor of the 190 South LaSalle building downtown. But more than that, it was just great to see our old friends again.

View from the party near sunset. Batman can sometimes be spotted atop the building to the left.

The Sunflower 'Do

2008-09-18T12:03:00.000-07:00

My new roommate is a hairstylist, and so far we have been getting along swimmingly. So well, in fact, that he suggested that perhaps I could stop in and get a new haircut -- on the house, gratis -- sometime in the next couple days. I imagine that I will take him up on this, but I did have to pause for a second... was he trying to say that I need a haircut? I dunno.

All this talk of haircuts reminded me of a picture that I received several years ago from my friend Serpico. As it so happens, Serpico and I collaborated on bringing a previously unknown hairstyle into existence, which I called "the Sunflower." Basically, the idea was to take the Mohawk, and turn it sideways so that you had a strip of hair running across the top of your head. Then, the strip of hair would continue down the sideburns, under the chin, until finally you have completed the full 360 and your face was in the middle of something that looked like... a sunflower!

Serpico was very interested in this idea. After we discussed what this would look like, he decided to take a poll to determine whether he should end up getting the haircut or not. Since our friends knew Serpico well enough to knnow that he would go through with the haircut if we voted for it, people took their votes very seriously. Eventually the vote came out an even 12 in favor, 12 against. (I can't remember how I voted... probably for it. Maybe I abstained.)

To break the tie, Serpico determined that we should enlist the opinion of Lawrence Ferlinghetti -- founder of the City Lights bookstore in San Francisco. We attempted to get in touch with Mr. Ferlinghetti several times without success, and when the matter came to a rest, Serpico ended up not getting the haircut.

Soon afterward, Serpico and I graduated from college and headed our separate directions. And that seemed like the end of the story. However, about a year later I ended up getting this picture emailed to me:

Bad Cop, Worse Cop

2008-09-13T20:16:00.000-07:00

Carrying home our quarry after

another garage sale expedition.

As a new homeowner, I have been faced with a challenge. How do I fill up the house with stuff? So I've responded by getting to it in the only way I know how: Get my mom in to town. My mom is a certified Dumpster Diver (there are pictures) and is recognized far and wide as the Queen of Garage Sales. Surely she will know what to do.

My mom did not disappoint. On her first walkthrough of the house, she went through every room with a measuring tape and was throwing out suggestions like gunfire: "You should add some shelves here -- add a long pillow to the window-sill -- find a longer table for the dining room -- this room would look good with a nice taupe rug -- maybe we could find a Chaise sofa for this room? --" ...and so on. Before we ever left the house, she had measured out the sizes for each ideal object.

Our search began in earnest yesterday, as we woke up early to hit the Winston-Salem garage sale circuit. After we found something we wanted, we would initiate our patented "bad cop, worse cop" routine. My mom would make an insulting offer, and then the sellor would make a counter-offer, and then my mom would look to me, where I would be pulling off my best "I don't know if I even want this piece of crap anyway" look, at which point the sellor would come down to about my mom's price. Here are a couple near-verbatim conversations:

Mom: "Would you take $250 for the armoire?" [which showed a sticker price of 395]

Sellor: "The wood alone is worth the asking price!"

Mom: (Looks at me.)

Me: (Face says "uggh, what an ugly piece of trash.")

Sellor: "Okay, how about $265?"

Mom: "How about $260?"

Sellor: "Fine!"

This was the typical story for big-sticker items, but my mom's haggling was unflagging. If something cost 50 cents, she would ask for 25. Here was another conversation:

Mom: "Would you take 50 cents for the coat hooks?" [A set of three which was offered for a buck.]

Sellor: "Surely you have a dollar."

Mom: (Looks at me.)

Me: (Face says "uggh, these hooks disgust me.")

Sellor: "I think we could do fifty cents."

Me: (Face says "This is 50 cents that could be better spent on used toilet paper")

Sellor: "Just take them for free if you like!"

In the end, we still paid the woman 50 cents anyway. With our bargaining powers combined, it just isn't even fair..

Adventures of Johnny Coffee-Bean

2008-09-07T09:02:00.001-07:00

Photo by Andrew Scrivani
of The New York Times

I've had iced coffee several different ways, and most are unexceptional... usually they are made by just chilling coffee that you've already made from a drip coffee machine or a french press. And this is pretty vile until you add large amounts of sugar and half-and-half to cut the coffee.

However, a couple years ago, I discovered cold-brewed iced coffee at Cafe Kopi in Champaign, IL. Making cold-brewed iced coffee is simpler than you would think: you simply add lukewarm water to coffee grounds and let it all sit in a container for about 8 hours (see the linked easiest recipe in the world ever)*. By never using hot water to extract the flavor from the beans, the resulting coffee is amazingly smooth, not bitter, and surprisingly sweet. Indeed, I almost always prepare it by just adding water and ice and drinking it black.

So after years of drinking this concoction in Champaign, I was very disappointed to find that none of the coffee places in town actually serve their iced coffee the cold-brewed way. As the self-appointed Johnny Coffee-Bean -- spreading the good news of the cold brew method -- I have traveled far and wide through this town with a Nalgene of my iced coffee, and sharing it to whoever I can without solicitation. Apparently my efforts are beginning to show dividends. Mitchell, one of the managers of Krankies, has recently been sighted drinking cold-brewed iced coffee around the store, and word on the streets is that cold-brewed iced coffee should soon be on the menu. So I recommend that the next time you head to Krankies (or indeed, any coffee shop), you ask "do you have cold-brewed iced coffee?" If they say no, throw on your best dejected hangdog look. But if they say yes, enjoy!

*Alternatively you can by a "Toddy" iced coffee maker. This is a huge waste of time and money. Seriously.

Searching for my Taco De Ojo

2008-09-05T10:22:00.000-07:00

A couple fine tacos from
La Perlita on Waughtown Road.

I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine who wanted me to explain the appeal of the taco. Since she was a vegetarian, she figured she could join me on a leg of my taco quest and eat a reduced taco of lettuce, cheese and sour cream. Not so! I explained. No, the traditional Mexican taco never comes with lettuce, sour cream, or even cheese. Instead, the taco is made with a lightly oiled corn tortilla, which is then filled with a type of meat, diced onions, cilantro, and then accompanied with lime wedges and hot sauces to use to taste. "So I would be reduced to eating onions and cilantro on a corn tortilla?" she asked. "...With lime," I corrected.

It may not sound like much, but what makes the taco great is the tasty meats that you can put in these things. The standby is the taco al pastor (taco with barbecued pork), which are served at any taqueria and are almost always excellent. But I usually also try a place's taco de lengua (tongue taco). These are usually terrific, with the beef tongue tasting like very tender cuts of steak, although sometimes the tongue is cut in such a way that you can taste the tastebuds, which I'm not really so down with. It doesn't seem right to be eating a food that might be tasting you back.

Of course, I am adventuring to find places that serve other exciting taco meats. At one place a couple weeks ago I tasted my first taco de cabeza (head taco), which is made with cuts of muscles from a cow's head. Ultimately better than it sounds. What I would really like to find is a place that serves the elusive taco de ojo (eye taco). From what I understand, these are at least served in Los Angeles somewhere. Interesting fact: the phrase "taco de ojo" is basically used in Spanish the way we use "eye candy" and will return some very interesting results if you do a Google search.

Sometimes a shirt is just a shirt

2008-08-24T17:39:00.000-07:00

An idea for a t-shirt I came up with a couple days ago (the drawing is by Ralph Steadman):

After mocking this up, I discovered that apparently, I am not the first person to come up with this idea (see especially the "first" link), but I think my execution is better.

The Roommate Search is On...

2008-08-23T14:43:00.001-07:00

I've been toying with the idea of getting a roommate for the new place for some time. I discussed this idea shortly after moving into the house with fellow Winston-Salem blogger SarahSouth, who suggested that maybe I shouldn't be so eager to get a roommate, because often roommates are terrible people that suck the joy out of life. But then she thought about it some more and asked "how much would they be paying for rent?" and I said the going rate I was finding from Craigslist indicated that I might be able to get about $450 a month. Wheels turned, and soon the approximately $5000 a year of additional income snapped into her mind, and she asked "So... what are you waiting for?"

And it looks like soon, this will all be a go. A couple days ago, I posted an ad for a roommate on Craigslist, and ended up getting a number of responses. Auditions for the part of "DW's Roommate" will thus begin next week.

A Finalist in DW's Roommate
Search. Interesting guy!

I imagine little alarms are going off in some people's heads about Craigslist as a place for finding a roommate. And I have had my reservations. So how has this worked? In the end, the people I received responses from have ended up being both more and less crazy than I expected. This has been determined through Google-stalking. On the less crazy side, a couple candidates appear to be up-standing young professionals working in various capacities at my college. On the more crazy side, I had one person email me whose only match I was able to make from Google was to find his name on the list of people wanted for arrest by the Winston-Salem Police. Interesting...

In any case, the nice thing about the search is that you don't actually have to accept all the crazies that might have contacted you to be your roommate. As a person over-educated in the dark arts of studying people to peer deep into their souls and discover their true nature, I am hoping that my screening skills will be good enough to weed out the crazies. On the other hand, if these efforts and my Google-stalking efforts fail, and I do end up living with a wanted criminal, maybe they're offering some sort of bounty for turning these people in. And that might be another couple hundred bucks right there! Cha-ching!

Winston-Salem's Contribution to the Olympics

2008-08-15T14:34:00.000-07:00

I'm glad that the Cat's Corner Cafe in Winston-Salem is doing its part to help our boy in Beijing:

King of Kong: Just trust me

2008-08-14T11:36:00.000-07:00

For weeks, I asked some friends to join me for a viewing of a movie called "The King of Kong." MJ for one asked me to describe it, and I told her it was a documentary about guys that play Donkey Kong a lot. Uh... you're not selling me on this one, she said. Just trust me, I said.

OK, so my sell wasn't very good. (My food sells aren't so good either, it appears... Aaron states: "Your food posts turn my stomach.") But in any case, I somehow conned a couple people to join me in watching this thing, and they ended up loving it. So there, you jerks. I know what I'm talking about. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll definitely mock. I'll just point you to the theatrical trailer and ask you all to do the same thing: just trust me on this one.

Another good reason to move to the South

2008-08-12T09:37:00.000-07:00

Because it is thousands of miles away from Canada, where shit like this happens:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/7535840.stm
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/7542507.stm

Riding buses may be for some, and may be good for the environment blah blah blah, but I will stick to driving my car around for now thank you very much.

Great Feats from the Summer Olympic Challenge

2008-08-11T19:55:00.000-07:00

While synchronized swimming and BMX motocross somehow are somehow considered "Olympic sports", I've been taking part in the local multi-sport Summer Olympic Challenge this summer, which has far more demanding physical activities.

I mean, synchronized swimming? Let's get serious.

You make me sick, Winston-Salem Journal

2008-08-03T14:28:00.001-07:00

I have nothing but contempt
for this award.

I bought the Winston-Salem Journal today, mostly hoping to find coupons and ideas to help with filling up my nifty new home. And inside, they had a special section called "Reader's Choice 2008" where they detailed some of the best things you could find in Winston-Salem for various categories. I'll provide some of the conclusions below as provided by the W-S Journal (followed by my commentary in parentheses).

"Best Place to Take a Date: Bambino Brothers Pizzeria and Sports Bar"

(Hmm. A sports bar. Okay... I'll just have to take their word that Bambino's is a good place for a romantic evening, I guess.)

(For the record, Bambino's also won the Reader's Choice awards for Best Place to Take the Kids, Best Pizza, and Best Italian. As a friend noted, if the Bambino's experience goes really well, then 9 months later you can take your new little bundle of joy to the same place.)

------

"Best Place for a Late-Night Snack: Taco Bell
...Winston-Salem agrees that it's the best place for a late-night snack of burritos, chalupas, tacos, nachos or the new spicy Queso CrunchWrap."

(Uh... Taco Bell. OK. Come on... surely there are better late night snack options. I hope.)

------

"Best Coffee House: Starbucks
...Even if you are not a coffee drinker, you'll find something you like at Starbucks."

(Starbucks? Starbucks! STARBUCKS?!??! Krankies didn't even make it in the top three?! God, I want to punch the Winston-Salem Journal in the face so badly right now.)

------

"Best Hamburgers: McDonald's
...Using only 100 percent pure beef, the hand-seasoning on the grill with a mixture of salt and pepper, rest assured you're getting the best burger, regardless of the McDonald's location you're visiting."

(Oh my god, I'm driving over to the Winston-Salem Journal office right now... I swear: There will be blood...)

Way of the Dodo

2008-08-01T11:30:00.000-07:00

For a really really really brief time, I had a comic strip that I drew for the college newspaper that I called "Way of the Dodo"... I hadn't seen the strips for a long time, but found them as I was transferring files off my old computer. I did 5 strips total, and stopped because each 4-panel strip took me several hours to make. Those people that can do this kind of thing in 15-minutes make me sick (this means you, Doodles...).

Home Sweet Home

2008-08-01T07:49:00.001-07:00

Just moved into my new place yesterday, and while everything is still in complete disarray, I've already discovered a couple things that are high on my list of favorite things about the house:

Cooking on the stove with gas burners. (Incidentally, this may also be the most likely thing to burn the house down.)
Filling the claw-foot bathtub with cold water for a soak after moving all day.
Looking out at the back patio when its raining, and pretending that I'm living somewhere in Europe (I don't know if this really makes sense, but it is a pleasant daydream nonetheless).
Getting hit with the smell of fresh rosemary as I walk down the steps to the house.

Hazy Days

2008-07-28T06:16:00.000-07:00

One of the more surprising discoveries of a hiking venture around Boone about a week ago was that the Blue Ridge Mountains really are blue. (The new banner I put on the blog is a picture I took out there, colors unchanged.)

It didn't take me long to figure out why: the South is so damn humid, that's why. By the end of the hike, and on a not-particularly-hot day, it looked like I had taken a jump into a swimming hole (I had not... I wish I could've). At the end I was able to wring out about 1/2 a cup of sweat from my shirt alone. Here's more information about it from the Frequently Asked Questions about the Blue Ridge Parkway on the National Park Services page:

Why is the Blue Ridge "blue"? According to "A Naturalist's Blue Ridge Parkway" by David Catlin, "it can be legitimately claimed that trees put the "blue" in Blue Ridge, for hydrocarbons released into the atmosphere by the forest contribute to the characteristic haze on these mountains and to their distinctive color." The entire Appalachian Chain is extraordinarily diverse and rich in its vegetation, so there is perhaps more "blue" to the Blue Ridge and more "smoky" to the Great Smoky Mountains.

Come for the Fried Peanuts, Stay for the Boiled

2008-07-26T21:50:00.000-07:00

On the way out to hike some trails at South Mountain earlier today, Erik and I passed a place that sold fried peanuts... I'd never heard of such a thing before, so we vowed to stop and pick some up after the hike.

The fried peanuts weren't the greatest thing in the world (they actually tasted better if you ate the shells, if you can believe it), but when we arrived we discovered they had another special Southern treat: boiled peanuts. I bought one bag of fried peanuts and another bag of boiled, and while the fried peanuts are going to be around for awhile, those boiled peanuts were gone in minutes flat. I love those things...

My eagle-eye spots a sign advertising "fried peanuts" from the road... can you catch it?

While I was Eating Focaccia and Drinking Iced Americanos...

2008-07-22T19:19:00.000-07:00

...Apparently the world was falling down around me. I drove home from the coffee shop and found that half the traffic lights I passed were black and trees were snapped like pretty toothpicks.

A couple shots of the carnage, just before sunset:

Ugly Man Symbol with Magical Powers

2008-07-22T00:05:00.000-07:00

A couple days ago I was biking to school and noticed a new symbol lining the side of Reynolda Road. I have traveled the streets of Winston-Salem far and wide but had not seen this strange, vaguely menacing-looking symbol. I can only assume that it is an ancient hieroglyph of some sort. Each looked like a man wearing glasses, or perhaps with two black eyes, with a horribly crooked nose and small pursed lips.

I have not figured out the meaning of these odd symbols that now line Reynolda, but they nonetheless appear to be imbued with special powers. Immediately after seeing these new symbols, I have felt new confidence. Instead of zig-zagging through the neighborhood streets of Winston to get to work, I now bike along these symbols on the busier Reynolda Road, more secure that I will not end up a crush of limbs wrapped around someone's bumper. In turn, I've shaved 5 minutes from my commute. Magic...

Strange hieroglyph sighted on Reynolda Road.