Racism

While I'm in the habit of taking on political topics, I might as well address something that's become a very big issue in the last few weeks: Racism.

Well, okay, fine, I don't mean actual racism. I mean French Fry Racism.

Yes, it's true, I'm a French Fry Racist. I don't like the black ones. Or the soggy ones. Or the ones that taste too much like potato.

Over the years I have eaten many french fries. Many many french fries. I've eaten so many french fries I'm surprised I haven't turned French (if I ate a lot of soy I'd be more likely to turn french, with all that extra estrogen). In fact, I would say that I'm a connoisseur of french fries. I'm rich with french fry knowledge.

As a result, I know a good french fry just by looking at it. There are some places that serve a higher percentage of "good" fries. McDonald's tops the list. There are times when I can eat a full 90% of the fries they serve. I've never eaten all of them, but pretty close.

Wendy's fries are too big around and don't go through the quality checks that McDonald's fries do. They're much more prone to being "bad". I can rarely eat even 50% of Wendy's fries.

Carl's Jr. has some pretty good fries, and they give you a lot of them. Every now and then you'll get a batch that's extra greasy. And you're out of luck if the fries are cold; they're only "good" for a short window of time.

Burger King has okay fries, but they lack taste. Arby's goes to too much trouble to make it obvious that their fries are made from potatoes, but forget to make them taste good. Artic Circle's fries are pretty good, but seem a little light sometimes.

Apollo/Crown/Astro have mediocre fries, but the excellent fry sauce makes up for it. You can cover up a lot of imperfections with fry sauce.

So what makes a good fry? What makes me a fry racist?

I don't like fries that are discolored in any way. If it has a black end it's not going in my mouth. If it looks like it was burned at any time during its production it's going to be left on the tray.

If a fry is too greasy, it's not for me. If it's shiny you just know it's going to taste like undercooked potato. If I wanted to eat potatoes I'd order potatoes.

I have no qualms about leaving a half order of fries on my tray. The food is there to serve me, not the other way around. I eat too much as it is, so it's good to be picky, right?

The silver lining of my fry-racist tendencies is that my wife LOVES the "friggers" (I can't call them that, can I?) If it's soft and greasy or brown and gooey she eats them righ up. We usually share a large order of fries. We're like Jack Sprat and his wife. Every food that I despise she loves. Even onions. She'll eat the onions right off my plate.

That's what marriage is for: to form a partnership that compensates for each person's weaknesses, whether those weaknesses be an aversion to eating onions or an inability to overcome my fry-racism (or fracism?)

Don't worry, though, I'm not planning to burn effigees of the FryGuys on the front lawn of the McDonald's anytime soon.

Lady Looks Like a Dude

So I try not to get political on my blog. Politics really gets me worked up--just ask Annie. But there's an issue that I've felt strongly about for a long time, and the evidence is finally starting to conform to my beliefs. And, really, who doesn't want to gloat a little bit when they're proven correct?

There was an article linked on the Drudge Report today about athletes bound for the Olympics failing gender tests. You can read the article here. The article says that there are certain requirements that the athletes have to meet. I'm not going to go into much detail--you can read the article if you want--but the really interesting one is that men can compete as women if it has been more than 2 years since they had a "gender-reassignment" surgery.

The people caught in the middle are those with "chromosomal abnormalities": people who are born with too many chromosomes or manifest as one gender when they have the chromosomes of the other (i.e. a man with two X chromosomes). There may not be another sentence ever created that used the word "chromosome" that much.

I'm not really talking about people with chromosomal abnormalities. I feel bad for them and all, being freaks of nature and all that, but that's not where I'm headed.

When I read the article about the olympic athletes failing gender tests it reminded me of another article I read earlier in the week. It was about the effects of soy.

That's right: Soy. How long have I hated soy and called it the product of the devil? How many times did I try to talk people out of buying soy beans when I worked at Costco? How many lives have to be ruined by this evil ... is it a plant? I don't even know.

It turns out that soy is the cause of all the world's problems, and I'm not exaggerating. Okay, I'm exaggerating a little. The main issue is this: soy contains isoflavones and estrogen. I'm not going to bore you with numbers (this is probably boring enough) but I'll include links to a couple articles at the end of the post.

The increased estrogen isn't bad in small amounts, but in larger amounts it has some serious health consequences for both men and women. In women it's been linked to breast cancer (ever wonder why breast cancer rates have increased so dramatically the last 50 years?) In men there are new studies out linking it to decreased sperm counts and other fertility problems.

Most trouble of all, however, is soy-based baby formula. The one article I read said that babies who drink soy formula are getting the estrogen equivalent of 5 birth control pills.

What's the problem with estrogen in children, you ask? Estrogen inhibits the production of Testosterone (what makes men men). Without the proper balance of estrogen and testosterone the baby grows up genderally confused (yes, that's a word... maybe). As they grow up they have no gender identity (especially if they keep being fed soy products).

So, to summarize soy's evil influence on the world (and add a few things that I forgot to mention before):

• It causes breast cancer and other health problems in women (too much estrogen's just not good. Some articles suggest that it makes women more moody, and none of us need that).
• It makes men less able to procreate (I'm not sure I mind that soy-eaters aren't able to reproduce).
• It turns men into sissies. Really, it does. How many big, macho (that word is so 80's) vegans do you know? Guys are losing their manliness and turning into wimps which explains all the "guns hurt people" people out there.
• It allows vegetable-arians to get protein from a plant source rather than a meat source. The existence of soy enables people to be vegetarians (and the eating of soy makes them more likely to want to be vegetarians).
• It turns people in homersexuals. I'm sure there's more research that needs to be done here (and it will all be blocked by the rainbow coalition) but it sure makes sense that soy is having a profound impact in the production of homersexuals and other genderally ambivalent individuals.

Well, that's probably enough for now. Like I said, I hate to get political, but it seems that my long-held fears about soy are starting to be proven correct.

Read the article here.

And one more article here.

REO Speedwagon

Just a quick note. On Sunday I caught my first glimpse of an "REO Speedwagon". It's at the Tooele County Fire Museum. And all this time I thought it was just a group.

Don't Pick on Me

This sign popped up in our break room a couple days ago, and since then I've been trying to figure out what could have taken place to make someone think this was necessary.

I'm not the kind of guy who washes dishes while at work (and Annie would argue that I seldom wash dishes at home, either), but there are people here who have a full service for four at their desks and spend 20 minutes every afternoon doing all their in the break room.

I can understand washing a dish every now and then, but come on, people. Apparently, there are people who actually leave their dishes in the sink (I've never witnessed this myself, but I've seen quite a few left on the countertops near the sink to dry). Why would you leave your dirty dishes (or even clean dishes) in the sink at work?

Equally hard to answer: why would you hide somebody's dishes? Or throw somebody's dishes away? I can't imagine any circumstances where a normal, sane person would think this was a good idea. Maybe if there are people washing paper (well, okay, plastic) plates and they're being thrown away I can see someone throwing them away thinking they're doing someone a favor. It seems to me, though, if someone is periodically throwing away other peoples' dishes there might just be a problem with that person.

The real funny thing is the implication that someone has been "hiding" dishes. Why would anyone go to the trouble of hiding someone else's dishes. I don't get it.

The real real funny thing is that whatever may or may not be happening, someone felt strongly enough about it to print up a sign to try to prevent dish hidings. I admit, there are some people working here that don't fit in very well with normal society (you have to be careful not to accidentally bare your teeth as it can be seen as a sign of aggression).

I'm sure there was just one guy who left his dishes in the sink, someone put them away in the cupboards thinking that's where they belonged (why else would they be left there?), the guy came back and couldn't find them for awhile and thought he was being targeted by bullies. It may have happened more than once, with different people putting the dishes in different places.

Anyway, I don't know what the reasons are, or even if anything actually happened, but it really makes me laugh that college educated adults don't know how to interact with others of the same species.

I'm 'IT'

I never liked being tagged growing up... It's not fun now when your house or your fence get tagged. I'm pretty sure most animals aren't very happy when they get tagged. But, like it or not, I've been tagged.

And... I don't know the rules... will I die a horrible death if I don't post my response within three days? Is this like a chain letter? Did some kid in Ohio fall into a volcano the day after he didn't respond? I'm not going to take the chance. Here it is:

3 Joys (Could I call them something else, being a guy?)

1. I think it's understood that Annie is the biggest joy in my life. (It's a good thing her name's not 'Joy' or I would have been slapped for that comment.) It took 28 years to find her and she was worth every minute of searching.
2. Well-cooked food. Most people eat just to have something in their belly. I try to only eat things that taste good. Why fill up on things that don't taste good? This may explain the existence of my belly, but with all of the amazing tastes out there in the world, 95% of which I still haven't even tried, why waste time eating ordinary things?
3. Music. Whether listening to music, playing the guitar, or singing, I love music. There's a power in music that's hard to comprehend. I've found that there are good things about all different types of music. A lot of what's out there is garbage, but there are some jewels in with the sludge.

3 Fears:

See, this is why guys don't typically do these silly things. There's nothing to list in this section.

1. But if I have to put something, I guess I'd say that my biggest fear is falling short of living up to who I should be. That includes all aspects of life. The most pressing fear is not being able to provide for my family, followed by not being able to perform work/church duties effectively.
2. If I have to name another fear, I guess it would be dying before completing my purpose. I'm not afraid to die; in fact, I'm strangely excited for it. Every now and then, though, I get little glimpses of what I can accomplish in this life and don't want to check out before I'm able to do it.
3. Clowns. I can't point to a single instance where my view of clowns changed, and always laughed at people who were afraid of clowns, but the older I get the more creeped out I am by them. There's just something creepy about not being able to trust the emotions visible on someone's face (I don't like mimes for the same reason, or people with sunglasses).

3 Goals:

Trying is the first step on the road to failure. I'm not a big goal-oriented person. I've found that my life works out much better if I roll with the flow. Which is not to say I have no ambitions in life, but my goals can't be measured by conventional means, and seemingly have no rational benefit. I'll try to list what I can, though:

1. Learn everything there is to know. Yes, it sounds ambitious, but it's more of a mind-set than an actual goal. I can't stand not knowing how things work. I just don't understand how people can go through their entire lives without knowing how to read music, calculate the pull of gravity, read a topographical map... How can people drive a car without knowing what makes it run? I don't get it.
2. Become a good person. I want to get to the point where I can see problems and work to fix them without thinking about it. I want to be the person who, when seeing a broken-down car, pulls over to help instead of making jokes (like I usually do now). In short, I want to develop myself to the point where at all times, in all things, and in all places, everyone who comes in contact with me comes away a better person for the influence I've had on them. Again, this is not something I expect to achieve, but something I work toward.
3. Achieve my purpose. I don't know what it is yet, and I don't know how to accomplish it. But, if I'm diligent in working toward my first two goals, I'm sure that when the time comes I'll be ready for it. I just need to find the right place and wait for the right time.

3 Obsessions:

Just three?! My obsessions come and go. I'll latch onto something just long enough to master it, then move on to something else. If I have to come up with CURRENT obsessions, though, they'd be these:

1. Carving stamps. Who would have thought? I've carved around 20 stamps in the last few weeks, with nothing even planned for them. It's just been relaxing to sit and carve (and even better now that I haven't cut myself in over 2 weeks!)
2. Italy. Since my mission I can't get Italy out of my head. Everything I do, in some way, revovles around Italy. It's a good thing Annie also served a mission in Italy or I would have driven her nocce by now with my incessant Italy obsession.
3. Playing the Guitar. Yeah, so this is an old one, but I'm starting to get back into it. I've found some new songs to play reecntly and need to make more time to practice.

3 Random Facts:

These had better be good, huh? Everyone already knows the obvious: I can solve the Rubik's Cube, I like to cook, I'm dashingly handsome (or hashingly dansome). I'll try to come up with something original that nobody knows about me...

1. I like some country music. If you repeat that outside of this blog I'll deny it, but there are some country songs that I really enjoy. In fact, I more than enjoy them. Don't tell Annie.
2. I'm right on the edge between regular-sized clothes and "Big & Tall"-sized clothes. I hate buying Big & Tall stuff. It's like buying "Fat Boy" ice cream sandwiches hoping the cashier doesn't make some crack about how "you are what you eat" (I've still never bought Fat Boy ice cream sandwiches. Ever.) So, as a result, my pants are all 2 inches too short, my sleeves are 2 inches too short, and I have to buy shoes based not on the style I like, but on what's available in my size. Actually, the last few years we've been buying Big & Tall stuff, but I like to have Annie there with me to dissuade the cashier from making flippant remarks.
3. I often have conversations with myself in my head. I don't know what it is, but the me I talk to has some really good ideas sometimes.

Hopefully I don't get struck dead by a stick flying out of the ocean or anything for this, but I'm not tagging anyone else. Unless you'd like to be tagged, then go ahead.

Stupidity

You've gotta love the running of the bulls, don't you? A whole bunch of guys all dressed up the same running for their lives from a bunch of angry bulls. Every year when I see the footage, rather than thinking about how stupid those people are, like a sane person would, I wonder when I'll get my chance to run with the bulls.

Of course, Annie would never let me do it. She'd come up with all sorts of reasons about not being able to run fast enough, not living in Spain, needing to support a family and the expectation that I should be able to enjoy sitting down throughout my life.

And of course, she's right. There's no reason why a sane person would want to do that; which is not to say that I wouldn't still enjoy it a little bit.

I noticed this week how the news stations are all talking about the "Days of '47 Rodeo", and I wondered if this was any better than what's going on in Spain.

I mean, really. In Pamplona, people are discouraged from touching the bulls (yes, being gored isn't the expected outcome). At the rodeo, the cowboys actually climb up on top of the bull while people poke it and jab it and get it all excited so it'll put on a good show.

In Pamplona, there are places in the side of the run for the runners to quickly escape. At the rodeo, the only way to escape is to have the bull give you a "boost" up into the stands, or have the clowns come out and distract the bull long enough for them to bring a stretcher out to gather you up.

I'm not making a judgment one way or the other, but it sure seems to me that, for all the criticising we do of the running of the bulls in Spain, we do some pretty stupid bull-related activities here, too.

For the record, though, I'm pretty sure I could run fast enough.

Cookies...

I'm a big fan of cookies. If you've seen my belly, you know.

As much of a fan of cookies as I am, I'm not a big fan of cooking cookies. They're a lot of work. You typically start with butter (which is probably why cookies are so good). You can't melt it, though, or the cookies come out awful. (Incidentally, why is awesome so much better than awful? You'd think with less of it it'd be much worse.) It takes a lot of work to mix a square of hard butter with a cup of sugar, doesn't it? (I assume you all keep your butter in the freezer and there's never any out when you decide to make cookies.)

Even after you manage to mix everything together, you have to make an arbitrary amount of dough into a roundish shape, which is hard because the dough sticks to everything it touches. And if you add enough flour so that it doesn't stick, the cookies don't cook up right.

The exception to the rule is sugar cookies. Yeah, there's the rolling them out and cutting them with cookie cutters, but then they're done. There's no guessing about how much dough you need, or wondering how far they'll ooze when they cook. There's no flattening them with a fork. And, if you need to add more flour to keep them from sticking, you can!

There is one thing that drives me nuts with sugar cookies, however: the inefficiency of the cookie cutter shapes. There are circles, hearts are popular, angels, gingerbread men (they make white men with sugar cookies), and all manner of other shapes. You even have holiday shapes like candy canes, santa clauses, mini Jesuses, and stars of David. But you know what all those different shapes mean, right? You have waste!

That's right, waste! You have to scoop up the cookies and transfer them gently to the pan, then gather up all the excess dough, work it back into the borg glob, and re-roll. When you get near the end of the dough you're rolling everything out for just a couple extra cookies, then re-rolling to squeeze out another couple. And, of course, this whole time you're eating little bits of extra. By the end, you've already consumed 5-6 cookies worth (and you can bet that won't show up on your Weight Watchers food log).

So what's the solution? A hexagonal cookie cutter! I'm serious! Think of how much more efficient cookie making would be if you could just use a hexagonal cookie cutter. There's no waste, no re-rolling what you've already rolled, no subconscious eating of dough. It's a perfect solution.

Religion

I don't want to make this into a political-type post. In fact, I don't want to say much at all right now. But be forewarned that soon I'll post something worth reading. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but sometime, I guess.

Anyway, we saw this sign at a bookstore downtown. I thought it was somewhat indicative of the way the world's going.

Robert Redford?

So this picture gives me the creeps. It's on the main floor of my building, tucked back in a seldom used hallway (maybe it creeps other people out, too).

First of all, it's too big for the area it's in. It's almost 5 feet square. That's 25 square feet of creepiness.

Secondly, who is it? There's a label near it, but it just says who painted it--not who it's a picture of.

Thirdly, I think it might be Robert Redford. At least that's who it looks like to me. The thought that it might be RR creeps me out even more than the picture itself.

Fourthly and finally, it's just plain creepy, isn't it? Am I the only one who thinks it's creepy? It gives me the heebie-jeebies every time I walk by it (which fortunately isn't very often).

Fifty

No, I didn't make another 42 stamps last night (although my hand feels like I did). The "Fifty" in the title refers to this being my 50th post since starting my blog. The sad thing is that it took 16 months to accomplish that, but I'm okay with that.

As a tribute to my 50th post, I'll give some updates on some of my previous posts; such as: whatever happened to that rock by the bus stop?

• In an effort not to be confused with a "goat lover", Annie & I are changing our letterboxing name. My first thought was "Calvin & Hobbes" but it's already been taken (and I had a cool stamp for it, too!) If you have any suggestions, let us know.
• Did anyone watch that Wipeout show? Did you laugh as much as I did? It's on again tonight, so if you missed it the last two weeks, tonight's your chance!
• I'm still overweight; excuse me, I mean obese. Yes, it's true. I'm still plugging away at losing weight, though. Isn't it interesting how you can "win" by "losing"?
• You'll be happy to know I figured out what was causing the holes in my socks: a hole in my shoe! The sole had split all the way through and as I'd walk my sock would rub against the split edge.
• You'll also be happy to know that for the last 3 weeks we've had a long bus every day. I haven't had to sit by anyone (mostly because I pretend to be talking to an imaginary person next to me, grumbling, and staring people down as they get on the bus).
• Despite this great success in getting UTA to listen to my demands, I'll only be taking the bus another 3 weeks. Governor Huntsman has declared the state "green" and we'll all be working 4 10-hour days. Were I to continue taking the bus, I'd need to catch the 5:30am, and wouldn't get home until 6:30pm. Instead I'll be doing a carpool with some other bus riders.
• I'm emerging from my nerdiness. My desire to sit around playing networked computer games all night long is subsiding. I no longer get excited when I see dice with more than 6 sides. Yes, I am overcoming the disease.
• Remember those crayons at the Macaroni Grill that I took a picture of and couldn't read what one of them was? It was Florentine.
• They gave me a plaque (isn't that what builds up on your teeth?) for being the employee of the year. And I even got a signed letter from the governor. In case you're wondering, it didn't apologize for making me work 10-hour days.
• Remember how, two months ago, I said that the assessment season was over and I wouldn't have anything to do over the summer (I didn't remember it either, but I'm scrolling back through all my posts). Well, I was wrong. I've been busier this summer than ever before. In fact, this summer has been busier than the assessment season was. Oh well.
• A quick update on "Mondegreens" (misheard song lyrics). The word has officially been added to the dictionary. It's a real word now. And I was, what, three months ahead of the dictionary people?
• It was April 3rd when I wrote about that rock out by the bus stop. I'd make a link to the post, but I don't feel like it. I wondered where the rock came from, who put it there, where it would end up, what was its purpose. You'll be pleased to know the rock moved. Or, at least, that somebody moved it. It stayed where it was for a couple weeks, and then one day it was by the tree. I don't know if it was seeking shade or what, but it moved a good 3 feet. I'll keep an eye on it and keep you updated.

Well, that's as far as I'm going to update. Chances are, only 2 people who started reading my list are still reading at this point. Not that I blame the people who stopped reading; I wouldn't have read this far. I'll try to have some original (non stamp related) material on here later in the week.

First Eight

I've recently begun carving my own stamps for my new letterboxing hobby. I didn't think I'd have the patience to do it, but so far I've really enjoyed it. Shown above are the first eight stamps I carved (Annie carved the Italy, I guess, but I carved it too. It's just that mine turned out backwards...)

I'm completely and totally amazed that what you see above is a result of something I did. That seems really strange to me.

Anyway, if you'd like to carve your own stamps, you can order the rubber stuff here. I've also been putting foam on the back, then gluing them to a wooden block. It works pretty well. There are certainly many other ways to do it, though. In fact, most of the boxes we've found just have a rubber stamp not mounted to anything (mostly for size reasons).

It's been a lot more fun to carve these things than I thought it would be. It's almost like being artistic and creative, but without having to come up with the ideas. The only downside is all the deep cuts on my fingertips; those Xacto knives are sharp!

Anyway, let me know what you think. Do they look okay? Should I make more? Do you have any requests?

If you'd like to do some carving of your own, it's pretty easy to get started. Check out the links above for the supplies (it's currently 3.75 for 45 square inches of the rubber, and 69 cents for 54 square inches of the foam). They can ship up to five sheets (of whatever) in a single envelope. I bought 3 sheets of the rubber, 2 of the foam, and with shipping it was still under $20.

Not too bad a price for a fun new hobby.

Amanti di Cibo

Sorry it's been awhile since my last post; the last few weeks have been crazy. In the middle of it all, though, we've made efforts to make it out to various letterboxes around the state.

And, as a part of that, we've finally made our own personalized stamp with a picture and our "trail name" on it. You can see it to the right. In fact, you probably saw it long before you started reading this.

If you can't tell (and if you can't I don't blame you), it's a picture of Italy expertly cut out by Annie, and a block of letters that says "Amanti di Cibo" which means "Food Lovers". Just a quick observation: letters are really hard to cut out.

It was pretty fun to do, and we're really excited to be able to use the stamp on the next letterbox we find.

Additionally, we've in the process of placing our own letterbox. We can tell you it will be somewhere in Tooele county, but you'll have to check out Letterboxing.org or AtlasQuest.com to find out exactly where. (Don't check yet, it'll still be a couple weeks before we get around to placing it. But you can check the sites for other letterboxes.)