Sick On My Birthday: You Didn’t Have To Patient Zero

Well, it’s finally happened. I’m sick on my birthday! It took nearly half of my calculated life expectancy based on the national average life expectancy. I thought it could never happen to me. I’d never be sick on my birthday! Seriously, what kind of loser catches a cold in July? It’s hot, the human body isn’t wasting energy trying to keep warm and people are outside. How could anyone, anyone, be sick right now? It’s summer for the love of ghawd!

Granted this has been the slowest rolling summer ever. Mile long trains have been known to get moving faster than this season has. Sunburn one day. In a hoodie and jeans the next, albeit while still getting sunburned. Then rain for days. Which, the rain isn’t bad at all, it’s just odd that it’s happening.

I started feeling bad three days ago. Patient zero admitted he was sick three days prior to that. To that end, this could is just about over. I’ve probably already given it to people before I even knew what was happening. Luckily, it’s nothing like the cold I had a few months ago. My nose is just really snotty and I feel lazy. Sadly, I can only taste about forty percent of what eat and drink. Which is going to put a damper on the celebratory consumption.

I need to go party as much as I can. Here are some misquotes about being sick on my birthday. I made them up. Please, don’t sue me.

Tyler Durden said it:

“On a long enough timeline, everyone will be sick on their birthday.”

Bon Jovi said better:

“I’m a cowboy. On transit I ride. I’m si-ick!”

“Si-iii-ick!”

“On my birthday,  on my birthday-yay, on my birthday.”


Has anyone drawn comparisons between the video for “Blaze of Glory” and Fallout 3?

Getting Older: The Concert That Could Have Been


 

Where I come from, concerts were hard to come by. I should stress that the local stuff was there, it was easy. It was the big names, they were the difficult ones. They required that you drive three hours to watch them. Heck, even the local ones required a half hour to an hour long road trip. It was a really small town.

So, for me, the culture of seeing live shows isn’t exactly engrained in my DNA. I didn’t do it enough then, to feel like I need to do it now. Don’t get me wrong, I like going to concerts, but I have to really want to go.

My wife and I had had a busy day, a trip to the dentist and other errands. We were eating dinner at the local hip music place to eat the foods. While I waited for my hotdog, I sipped my beer and looked at the wall with the gig posters. Down at the very bottom, far out of the gazing eye of the average looker was a poster for Windhand. I dig ‘em and have been listening to them a lot. Especially while I’ve been writing one particular project. I would love to see them live and here was my chance.

I looked at the date on the poster and it sounded familiar. A quick glance at my phone revealed the reason why, it was that very day. Not only that, but with a quick glance back at the poster and my basic math skills, I realized the doors were opening in eighteen minutes.

Our food probably wouldn’t be at our table in that time. We’d also have to go back home and take care of the dogs. Then catch a bus back downtown. Sometime in that amount of time we would have to buy tickets as well. For me, that was just enough logistical effort to pass up on the deal.

My wife, knowingly laughed at the defeat we were about to experience. She was down to go, but she knew, and was willing to admit before I was, that we were not going to go. We can be spontaneous, but this was a little out of our wheelhouse. Wanna go get some ice cream? Okay! Wanna go get a beer? Alright! And come home stumbling drunk? Wasn’t on my radar, but sure*! Wanna go to the library? Hell yeah! Wanna go to a doom metal concert that probably starts within an hour, still need to get food, eat food, take the dogs out, buy tickets, get there and may miss the opening act? Hmmm.

We didn’t go. Heck, we didn’t even try to go. I think I’d even forgotten about it by the time we got home. We took the dogs for a good walk and talked about comic books and graphic novels instead.

 


Next time Windhand, next time.

*Once or twice a year.

Birthday BBQin’

Now time for something a little less heavy. I know that many of my recent topics have been about political and social issues. Then I had a few terse words for smokers yesterday. Today is going to be different! [Steps down off of soapbox. Digs index fingers into the corners of lips and pulls up. Although to some it may appear that I am baring my teeth, I am indeed smiling.]

I recently had a birthday. Basically, a trilogy of days filled with back to back excellence. I would say that it all began when I was finishing up a previous blog post, listening to jazz with a tumbler of Glenlivet at my side. Not a double as I don’t want to end up drunk dialling on my blog.

My wife was busy in the kitchen baking an absolutely delicious carrot cake from scratch. She stayed up late finishing it for the party the next day. Even though the cake had cooled, it was so warm in our place that the frosting kept melting. She had to intermittently put the cake back in the fridge.

For the party we had a small group of people over. There was plenty of food, even though the entire day I was worried that there wasn’t going to be enough. Guests brought stuff too so in the end we had tofu burgers, veggie dogs, corn, potatoes, salad, an assortment of chips and of course beer. Plenty of beers from the local breweries. Delicious.

On top of a google play card, my wife also got me a writing journal that at the moment is still blank, but I have been carrying it around with me. Some other friends gave me some beers and some books and in general the gift of friendship. Just showing up was gift enough!

While it wasn’t intended as a gift, being told that Nazareth is responsible for Hair of the Dog also counts. I wasn’t alone in thinking it was AC/DC, although other than the part where he is screaming “ASUNUVBITCH!” it sounds nothing like AC/DC.

The BBQ was a great time! In fact after everyone had gone home I just kept saying, “We should do that again, maybe this time with tacos!” The feature image is of what remains of the carrot cake. In hindsight we should have taken a picture when it was whole, but forgot in the heat of the moment.

foodies/cuisinomane (Now Legal In Quebec)

Foodies, what are they? Are they: hedge chefs, super fans of food, food photographers? All of the above and then some? Where do they come from? What is their education background? What is their profession? Am I a foodie?

Who doesn’t like food? I mean even just a little. Regardless of the flavors or culture. If you have a friend that says they don’t like food, they either hashtag thigh gap and need help or they are quite possibly an alien! Get out of the house, call the J. Edgar’s, run for your life!

However, if you have a friend who says they are a fan of food as in, “I loooooooooove foooood, sooooo gooooood.” As if they think they are special or deserve an award, that is an asshole! For I as well, am a fan of living and not contracting scurvy, gout, rickets, or having my teeth fall out of my head! If it tastes good while doing so, so much the better.

A few years ago I started cooking a majority of our meals from scratch. I rarely use canned goods unless something is out of season. I will boil tomatoes and process them. I save vegetable trimmings to make a stock for soups. Bread and biscuits are conjured from flour and water, sometimes beer. Pudding from scratch from an old family recipe, sure I have to stand there and stir like crazy, but it is far superior to anything in box. I find it amazing how little time it actually takes to make something from the very base and how much that teaches you.

A friend of mine was complaining about food photography. He made the mistake of doing this in front of me. Who in turn notified a bunch of other smartasses at lunch. Which caused people take out their phones and tag him in their photos of Big Macs and Quarter Pounders. That’s right, this happened at McDonald’s. This could have quite possibly been the first case of food photography at the entire history of the brand. When it comes to McDonald’s, I don’t care much for the food, I can choke it down. It is more for the company.

I must admit, when I see people break out their phones and snap a photo of their food, I sometimes snicker. It isn’t bad to take a photo every now and then. I’ve been known to do it from time to time. When the food arrives and my eyes uncontrollably bulge with excitement like hyperventilating french bulldog who just sat on whoopie cushion. However, when the food arrives mid conversation and the phones come out and go away in one movement, leaving just enough time to make sure the food is on the screen. That is when I start laughing.

What a douchebag. Who in your social media life is truly going to give a shit, really? The fact that they are doing it out of habit, to add to the collection, is kind of creepy. Like a serial killer who always takes a token or that artist who takes a zillion photos of the exact same kind of thing. The difference is those two are aware of what they are doing.

Can you imagine what this trend would have been like about forty years ago during the age of neighbor vacation slideshow nights. Having to sit through slide after slide of what they ate. Then there were the Johnson’s who always took photos of the aftermath. What a bunch of weirdos.

Have I decided that I am a foodie? Not yet, I seem to like having good food, but won’t turn down anything as long as it is meatless. Yet, I thoroughly enjoy preparing delicious and large meals that last through the week. I take the occasional photo, mostly of donuts. I won’t buy Budweiser, but I will drink it if that is all you have.

Regardless, I am outraged by the term. I can’t help that I want to eat decent food. You only have so many years on this planet. You only have so many calories you should intake. Tell you what foodies, take charge. Spit out your craft beer. Yell at the top of your lungs, ” We ain’t foodies! Ya’ll just a bunch of poodies!” I can’t believe auto correct didn’t turn that into poodles as I was expecting it would.