Questions courtesy of 金曜五.
1. Whatcha been up to?
Another round of appointments at the doctors' offices. This time I drove north to Menomonee Falls for some tests or something. My new scrubs mean I can wear a seersucker jacket and don't have to fool with changing into an examination gown. So they can take x-rays or whatever of my guts.
Which are probably the cutest wittle gut-ums the doctors and nurses have ever done seen.
Firing shotguns at the gun range on Saturday was lots of fun. The AA-12 is totally amazing. Not terribly accurate but it falls into the automatic scattergun category so it's more of a point 'n' shoot in the general direction 'cause you're bound to hit something sooner or later and no recoil / no rifling means I'm not hanging on for dear life trying to aim with my kung fu grip.
Somewhere I came across a picture of Bonnie Parker, y'know — Bonnie from Bonnie and Clyde, the depression era bank robbers — and she is posed by one of the gang's stolen getaway cars holding a BAR (Browning Automatic Rifle). I am very strong for my size. Not much bigger than Bonnie. Shooting a BAR required almost all my strength because of the recoil and (on the rifle I shot) the rifling made the muzzle want to travel upwards. Rifling, the spiral groove inside the barrel which puts the spin on the projectile — the bullet — like a football thrown by a quarterback — either spins right or left depending on the direction of the spiral. Or if the quarterback is right or left-handed. So. The muzzle on an automatic rifle with significant recoil can end up pointing at the sky or at the ground if fired improperly. Which is probably why it is common to use a tripod to fire older high caliber military weapons from the prone position. With a rifle you're expected to aim.
Another nice thing about the AA-12 is the stainless steel construction. Never requires maintenance. And can take any type of shotgun shell load without damaging the barrel. That is a problem with modern steel loads rather than vintage lead shot on the Damascus barrels of the gun my grandfather made. Steel is a hard metal; lead is soft. But lead is not good for the environment. That is why gasoline was reformulated. Lead acted as a lubricant in the high temperatures of the internal combustion engine. Or the lead in paint which increased durability and corrosion resistance of painted surfaces but was a disaster when children ate flaking paint chips which I am told are sweet. Or think of how many geisha died at a young age of lead poisoning from the heavy white makeup. Nowadays my grandfather's shotgun is more of a work of art for the beauty and craftsmanship than a field piece.
The Saiga 12 and the Street Sweeper were interesting. I think it was being at a gun range sanctioned by a gun club. Which means strict safety rules. Ear protection, safety glasses. Made even stricter by social distancing. I guess I miss the old days when my friend Spewgie and I and our high school friends would be up north and we'd buy a junky car for twenty bucks and drive it through the woods to a natural amphitheater, put a rock on the accelerator and drink and make bets on how long she'd last while the poor thing screamed itself to death. Or walk around and blast stuff to smithereens with our guns. Mostly abandoned farms. Like if a door got in the way we wouldn't bother opening it. Not the traditionally accepted way, anyhow. But most of the good haikyo places (insane asylums, haunted houses) were pretty well known to everyone. Never trees or animals. Especially birds.
Because the AA-12 has been determined by the ATF to be an automatic even if it's the civilian semi-automatic version and a weapon of destruction having no sporting value, as an American, to legally own an AA-12, I'd have to become a federally registered firearms dealer. No big thing except I would probably become my own best customer. Buy myself a bazooka or a Sherman tank or a missile launcher. Install an anti-aircraft battery on my lawn.
But it's nice to dream. And it was nice to get out of the house for a while.
2. What's the latest from the front?
Bad news: Protesters fired a shotgun round through the backdoor of Officer Mensah's house. Which means criminal trespass, assault on an officer and attempted murder.
Officer Mensah is currently under review in the death of Alvin Cole, a seventeen year old boy who stole a gun, threatened shoppers at the mall and shot at police. A loaded illegal thirty-five round magazine was discovered in Alvin's backpack.
Video of the shooter and protesters' license plates is under review so it is just a matter of time until that person is hunted down and confined to a psychiatric hospital or prison to get the help so desperately needed.
Good news: Officer Mensah's GoFundMe has already exceeded the $50000 goal. $75000 within twenty days. An outpouring of love and support from the community.
3. What up?
Yuka introduced me to the Summer 2020 McDonald's Hawaiian Menu on her YouTube channel.
Cheese Loco Moco (a burger, also available as McMuffin Cheese Loco Moco breakfast), Spicy Hawaiian BBQ (similar to teriyaki cheeseburger from a few years ago with addition of a hash brown potato patty), Garlic Shrimp Fillet, McFizz Blue Hawaii (a raspberry lemonade), McFizz (a carbonated lemon squash) and Macadamia Caramel Hawaiian Pancake (two macadamia not-quite Japanese soufflé pancakes accompanied by a thick caramel topping applied from a dipping sauce thingy).
As usual, Japan only.
Taco Bell announced the discontinuation of a dozen menu items. This is in addition to the At-Home Taco Bar which mysteriously dropped off the menu after only a couple of months. No big loss. It was kind of a rip anyhow. The biggest problem was nacho cheese sauce instead of grated cheddar cheese. I think it is the same nacho cheese sauce used at the baseball park concessions. Nasty. That stuff should come with a warning.
One of the items being cut is the Cheesy Potato Griller. Nacho cheese sauce, sour cream, potatoes in a flour tortilla.
My usual order is seven bean burritos and a handful of mild sauces. Clocks in under a sawbuck. One time I must have felt like a big spender and ordered a Cheesy Potato Griller and a pineapple whip, too.
I've already mentioned the nacho cheese sauce. Not cheddar based. Velveeta? Overly goopy and overly tangy. Sour cream is goopy and tangy by nature. So. Two goopies and two tangies. With "potatoes".
Esteemed scientists and recipients of the Noble Surprise, Dr Myrtle and her drop dead gorgeous assistant Dr 勝美 who looks even cuter with her hair in a bun in her white lab coat and "smart" glasses and clipboard some of which was leftover gear from my previous job as Agent 99, have been unable to determine exactly what is wrong with Taco Bell "potatoes".
Y'know how some things just do not freeze well? Such as tomatoes? Breaks down the cellular structure. Leaves them mooshy.
Do you remember Mystery Meat from grade school hot lunches? Is it pork? Is it beef? Must be fish 'cause it's Friday.
That is very funny if you are Catholic. Trust me.
We can't quite put our paw on the problem with Taco Bell "potatoes". Were they frozen? That's not unusual for fast foods. Half the menu items probably visit Mr Microwave. Are they potatoes? So-called fried potatoes retain an exterior crispness and fluffy interior.
I'm thinking they're instant mashed potatoes reconstituted on a baking sheet, popped into an oven, cut with a pizza cutter and tossed back in the oven to brown. But never develop a crust. Or maybe the potatoes are strip-mined where the government did all those nuclear bomb tests in the desert. It would be interesting to check a Cheesy Potato Griller with a Geiger counter or under a black light.
Vegetarians are upset over Taco Bell removing potatoes from the menu. I think Taco Bell is doing everyone a great big favor. If vegetarians are so hung up on Taco Bell "potatoes" well I don't ever want to be a vegetarian.
Just get the bean burrito, for pity. Hold the cheese. Do you see me crying over Spicy Bean Burritos? And that was like twenty years ago.
I don't think I've ever heard of the other eleven items that are getting deep sixed.
4. What's new?
Somehow I managed to put my suitcase from the abandoned Hawaii cruise in the upstairs hallway and forgot about it. Since I was quarantined for coronavirus.
It is like getting all new clothes. Unfortunately I have nowhere to wear these new clothes.
But I don't have to do a white load of laundry for like two weeks. Actually late September if I substitute tabi for footies. Which are pretty much the same thing anyhow.
Was looking forward to wearing my white seersucker Bermuda shorts with my blue and white awning stripe heavyweight oxford cotton button down with my reddish brown woven leather belt and huaraches.
So. I walk around like a schlub in my scrubs. Actually that has become my summer uniform. For schlepping around the house it is men's oxford boxers and men's tennis shirts. Or they might be golf shirts. Until the nights turn longer and I revert to sweats.
5. What's on the agenda?
Need black garbage bags with the red tie handles and chlorine and non-chlorine bleach.
Which means another trip to the warehouse club.
Might as well get cat litter and cat food while I'm there. And refried beans and tortillas.
And I think they sold me the wrong laptop.
1. Have you ever been in a hurricane or typhoon?
Caribbean tropical storm near Cuba. A squall off the coast of Alaska outside of the Inside Passage. My friend Spewgie and I had the decks to ourselves. Even the crew was feeling seasick. We are good sailors. The last time I sailed from Hawaii the captain delayed our departure by eight hours as we'd have been heading into the path of a storm.
2. Have you ever been near an erupting volcano?
Third grade science project. Fortunately we had not added food coloring to the lava yet so it was only marginally dangerous.
3. Are there tornadoes where you live? Has a tornado come near you?
Yes.
One Fourth Of July, at precisely 6:15am, I was parking the minivan on the street after setting up the chairs on the parade route when a strong gust knocked me down. On a perfectly calm beautiful summer morning. A wind shear. Came down my street from the river to the library. One tree, a mature honey locust, was twisted and broken in half. My twin silver maples lost branches the size of normal trees. One just missed my neighbor's Corvette and another almost took out the other neighbor's Escalade. All along the street there was severe tree damage.
Thank God it happened when it did. An hour or so later and my neighborhood would be crowded with people going to the parade. And if it had hit one block over, the parade would have been a disaster.
So. I called my sister who was coming over with her family; she brought over her big gas chainsaw and we chopped up the branches while Spewgie and the kids watched the parade.
And I have seen several funnel clouds. That's why I keep an emergency kit with water, Spaghettios for me, tuna for Myrtie, her cat carrier, extra litter box, etc. And always have my coaster wagon / toboggan and minivan ready to go.
4. Have you experienced severe flooding?
That would be the spring the river across the street overflowed its banks. Impassable street, about four feet of water in the basement. All my Edison phonograph records were ruined. Or so I thought. I left them outside in the garage. Magically the leaves of shellac which had separated like the pages of a book healed together. A miracle.
5. What is the most extreme weather you have ever experienced?
Went to a funeral in January a few years ago. In a little town about one hundred and twenty miles away.
In the cemetery I changed from heels into sneakers and walked to the grave for the burial service. The priest began the prayers as snow started falling. Very large feathery flakes.
We returned to the church. The church ladies had a tea for us. The snow increased in volume and it was getting to be late afternoon so it was already quite dark. I started with my farewells and people asked if I wanted to stay overnight. Everyone was extremely concerned because the funeral was for a guy who overturned his car on a snowy road. Wasn't wearing his seatbelt and the car landed on him. Expectant father; baby due in three months.
No. I'll be okay.
Possibly one of the stupidest things I've ever done. Turned into a blizzard. I had the heat in the minivan cranked so high it was like a sauna in there. The snow was falling so fast the windshield wipers couldn't keep up and I had to pull over every few miles to scrape the windows and headlights. No idea how I navigated; visiblity was almost zero. I was more worried about getting rearended than going in the ditch. There had been two major accidents in state history caused by heavy fog and every drivers ed student knew the eyewitness accounts. Just one percussive crunch after another and screams as more and more cars slammed into the wreckage.
Averaging about twenty miles an hour. I reached the Waukesha County line which means almost home and magically perfect weather and road conditions. Took me six hours for a trip I can do in an hour and twenty minutes in the roadster.
And for some reason I had removed my overnight kit from the minivan the day before. With a change of clothes, toiletries, a couple of Mounds bars and a bottle of water. I think so the water wouldn't freeze. Dumb.
Friday5 questions courtesy of Scrivener. Thank you!
Friday5 for August 14: 家.
1. In what forms of housing have you resided?
My parents' house, sorority house, My First Apartment®, my house.
My First Apartment® was in a late nineteenth century former hotel on the east side of town. I lived way up on the top floor of the building in a corner apartment which was really great. Unless the elevator wasn’t working. Which was pretty often. Then it wasn’t so great. Schlepping up eight flights.
My first experience with steam heat and a radiator. It could be -10° outside and I'd have to keep a window open so I wouldn't melt.
The apartment did not have a kitchen. There was a two-burner stove and oven, Barbie doll-sized sink so dinner plates had to be placed kittycorner and could not be submerged so I’d have to give ’em a spin. Which is why I would bleach out the bathtub, wash the dishes in a Rubbermaid Roughtote, put the dishes in the dish drying rack and turn on the shower to rinse.
And an undercounter wooden ice box which had been converted from ice to electricity sometime during the nineteen-twenties or thirties. The inner dimensions were smaller than a dorm fridge. A bottle of champagne wouldn't fit. In the winter I'd put the champagne outside on the windowsill. And forget about it.
I am the inventor of the champagne slushie.
So. Let’s suppose I am cooking spaghetti. My hands would be in the “kitchen” but my feet were in the "living room". The kitchen was about five linear feet.
To shampoo, I'd have to do a formal bow. The showerhead was only four feet tall.
The bedroom had a queen-sized bed. If I wanted to get something from the closet, I had to walk across the bed. The bed took up the whole room. At the time I still smoked cigarettes so used the bedroom as storage and slept on my futon and tatami in the living room. Which was okay because I didn't have any furniture other than a low table which was my desk and dining table.
No air conditioning. In the summer I'd open all the windows. And leave them open. Due to some acoustic quirk, I could plainly hear the conversations of people as they passed by as if they were in the apartment with me. And at bar closing time I was serenaded nightly by drunken girls singing 4 Non Blondes.
♫ ♪ AND I SAY HEY - EY - EY
HEY - EY - EY ♪
♪ I SAID HEY! WHAT'S GOING ON?
AND I SAY HEY - EY -EY ♫
♫ HEY - EY - EY
I SAID HEY! WHAT'S GOING ON? ♪ ♫
Then there was the first night after a blistering hot, humid day.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
What? I ran to the window. The apartment was one block from the lake. Water temperatures are cold. I was looking down at thick clouds.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Foghorns from the ships.
But I loved the old Italian neighborhood and Glorioso Brothers Grocery with the garlands of garlic and big tins of olive oil and window shopping the antique and second-hand stores.
My little slice o' heaven. Thankfully I wasn't there very long.
2. What are the best and worst things about the location of your home?
I don't know if there is a worst thing. Walking home from school my friend Spewgie and I would daydream about where we wanted to live. And now we live here.
3. Where would you keep a second home if you could have one?
Japan is out. Myrtle The Wonder Cat doesn't just show up at customs with her passport and visa ready to hop on the shinkansen train. Animals have to go through quarantine. Even if they are very cute.
Sure, Hawaii is very beautiful but I don't know if I could live there for more than a few weeks out of the year. There may be seasons but are probably too subtle for me to appreciate. And I would never be accepted. I would always be gaijin.
Northern Wisconsin on the Chain Of Lakes. In the summer, boating for miles and miles. In the winter, snowmobiling.
Hold my waist tight as we race our snowmobile on a moonlit night over a frozen lake. Want to warm up? Or if we were fishing and needed worms or minnows or a martini, we would stop at a tavern.
Yah dere, hey!
That is the way Yoopers talk. We do not like Yoopers. And they hate our guts.
They kind of talk half Wisconsinner and half Canadian. Except worse because they are surrounded on three sides by freshwater seas and on the fourth side by Wisconsin. The Upper Penninsula. The U.P. Yoopers. Get it?
Not even their land belongs here. Stinkin’ Yoopers.
If you do not believe me, google them. I think their only contribution to society was the beloved Christmas classic Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. And possibly The Chicken Dance. If you are not familiar with these little ditties, consider yourself blessed.
We park our snowmobile or tie our boat to the dock and walk into the tavern. There will be a long bar, mounted animal heads including species which do not have antlers in life but have been altered by a whimsical taxidermist, funny bumperstickers with overt sexual connotations because those are real icebreakers to encourage the Yooper birthrate, ladies’ and men’s rooms labelled ‘does’ and ‘bucks’ with a wall-mounted sink to wash your hands outside of the restrooms but that is okay because I am the only one who ever uses it and the soap dispenser is broken or empty anyways, the framed first dollar earned by the business which has never been properly matted, a Hamm's Beer clock with the moving waterfall, softball and bowling league schedules. And three large jars:
Pickled hardboiled eggs, pickled pigs’ feet and pickled sausages.
So. You are thinking, well 勝美, they got us covered for breakfast and lunch. What are we supposed to do about supper? Eat a bunch of fund raiser candy bars?
Don’t worry. There will be a countertop toaster-type “pizza oven” for burning frozen Tombstone pizzas.
Order me a shot and a Leinie’s, eh? I’ll be in the little does’ room.
4. How well would you adapt to permanent RV life?
Okie dokie as they say. The first time my big sister Antoinette walked into the squad room of the police department, she had to refrain from laughing. There was a map of the United States on the wall with lots of colored pushpins. The pushpins illustrated a long series of automobile thefts and outbreaks of shoplifting. Over a period of ten years. My sister was instrumental in breaking the case. A band of gypsies. They followed the seasons. Winter in the south, spring in the east, summer in the north and autumn in the west. Constantly on the move like sharks constantly swimming searching for prey.
And that is how Tony became a DEA agent. And graduated top of her class.
I don't think I could do that. Not the crime part. I mean the constant moving like a shark. How would I get my shirts done? 'Cause I'm not taking a Mercer & Sons or F A MacCluer to a One Hour Martinizing. Where would I go grocery shopping? I was appalled by grocery stores on the east coast and west coast. They were like grocery stores in the nineteen-sixties. Small wonder they love Trader Joe's so much. Trader Joe's sucks. Give me Pick 'N' Save or even Piggly Wiggly anyday. Where would I go to church? Where would all my friends be?
Let's suppose it is one of those great big RVs with the little garage for the roadster under the sleeping platform. Just drive up a ramp and park although I suppose I'd have to winch down a wheel or two so it wouldn't go sliding around back there.
It's not like I'm claustrophobic or anything but if there is one thing I can't stand it is being in close quarters like I'm aboard a submarine or something. I am more of an aircraft carrier person. So. It looks like the RV will have to have a freezer and a microwave and I am doomed to eating Lean Cuisine and Hot Pockets for all eternity. Which is pretty much my idea of hell.
5. What’s the prettiest thing to look at within five miles of your residence?
Hmmm. Other than me, I take it. Within five miles.
Where I go running by the river. It used to be the insane asylums, poor farm, paupers' cemetery, the orphanage, the tuberculosis sanatorium and the Agricultural College. But the poor farm is bisected by a traffic circle and roadway and a hotel and research center, the ag college only has one original building remaining converted to condominiums. All the tunnels have been cemented off. There used to be tunnels connecting everything. The orphanage is now offices. Only the paupers' cemetery is intact.
If you know where to look and look closely there is still the pentimento of the insane asylums. The coach path to the receiving entrance, the boat dock, the sealed off spring which fed the pond, the pond with a Japanese bridge and an island, the ghostly tennis court, the network of cinder paths, the footprint of the nurses' barracks. And a beautiful path that winds through the woods and a ravine with stone staircases. Purportedly designed by Frederick Law Olmsted, the guy who did Central Park in Manhattan. Many of his attributes such as the surprise vista but I've never been able to make a definite connection.
And it is very possible. Olmsted designed the Grand Necklace Of Parks in my city. Lake Park, Riverside Park, and Washington Park. And Ravine Drive which is known as Snake Road and he envisioned Shore Drive which eventually became Lincoln Memorial Drive.
One of the more interesting things was the abandoned railroad tracks which ran from the mainline to the coaling tower to supply the facilities with steam heat. It is the tracks themselves which are notable. A diesel locomotive could not run on those tracks. Same gauge as modern rails but more delicate if a railroad track can be described as delicate. Wooden ties, spikes and rails designed for the steam locomotives of the nineteenth century.
During my brief matriculation in the public school system, the hazing of the new cheerleaders occurred at the asylum. We'd have to break in and make our way through piles of bed frames and old spindly medical carts that clogged the rotting staircases to smoke a cigarette and drink a beer on the top floor. In the hydrotherapy room. Tattered remnants of heavy canvas "tonneaus" which strapped the patients in rows of bathtubs and kept their heads out of contact with the alternating freezing and scalding water. Sort of a precursor to electric shock therapy. At night. That place was spooky enough in the daylight. Which proved that we were cheerleader material or something.
I don't believe in hazing. As senior Girl Scouts my friend Spewgie and I refused to participate and stopped the cycle of abuse of younger girls. We had the troop make an obstacle course out in the woods at camp and made it fun so everyone wanted to participate.
No, I haven't. Sounds delish!
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