Saturday was a sunny 72°F day. In November. That is not supposed to happen. Not in my climate. Not in my latitude. So. Put the top down on the roadster and hopped on the freeway.
Ended up at an abandoned factory way on the south side. Haikyo / urbex (urban exploring).
On the way back home I got cut off by a red Ford Focus who decided he was going to Green Bay and not Madison. La dee dah. We only had that decision to make for the past mile.
I think the roadster is totalled. I hit the wall pretty hard.
And the nurses at the hospital were wary because I was wearing scrubs. No! I am a patient! These are my pajamas! Was given a standard issue hospital gown. Very becoming.
This time I am not on the super restricted diet. Thank goodness my friend Spewgie has been sneaking in Whoppers and french fries with Heinz 57 ketchup or I would never have survived the medical care.
The weird thing is the most serious of my injuries is where the driver's side airbag deployed and fractured a couple of ribs.
2. What up?
Yuka livestreamed with guest stars Mel and Lon, her cats;
Raina competed in a fifty McDonald's Chicken McNuggets virtual mukbang (elapsed time 3:41) and went to Cold Beer And Cheeseburgers restaurant to eat a fourteen patty cheeseburger (27:00 — while wearing a Christmas-themed Hello Kitty sweatshirt)...
...and Xiaoge dressed Dawang in Where's Waldo? clothes.
It is extremely hot in her province. Dawang is an Alaskan breed with a double coat. So. Xiaoge shaved his fur off. Like a poodle. During the day Dawang still needs UV protection.
Very stylish. Straight off the runways in Tokyo. Bravo, Dawang.
3. What's new?
Finally received the scrubs I ordered three weeks ago. Very basic one pocket shirt and one rear pocket pants. Only eleven bucks a pair. The scrubs in the stores had multiple pockets and were like the scrubs the nurses in the hospital wore when I was there in early June. I wanted old school in solid colors.
The store clerks explained only the expensive, high end scrubs were in stock. Even hospital administrators are expected to wear scrubs instead of jackets and ties during coronavirus for the washability. And that created a retail shortage.
Now I can finally make doctor and dental appointments and do some gardening and maybe take the roadster out for a midnight spin.
FUN FACT: I haven't put the top down since last September.
Dark grey, light grey and denim. The denim is not at all as pictured. This is a very dark indigo; the online catalogue depicted a hospitalesque seafoam blue. If you were fortunate to have the big box of Crayolas.
4. What's the latest from the front?
Still under shoot to kill.
Gabrielle Kokesh, a nineteen year old little blonde girl from Waunakee, got caught out on camera smashing windows and looting — despite fellow protesters telling her to stop because it was a peaceful demonstration — and is in custody waiting to be arraigned.
So. Gabby sits in jail over a long holiday weekend.
5. What's on the agenda?
Trying to decide between Roku gin from Osaka or my usual Beefeater from London. With pink lemonade, tonic or vermouth? I'm really not supposed to be drinking because of the prescriptions I'm on but I haven't had a drink since Ash Wednesday (February 26) and promise not to operate heavy machinery.
A 金曜五 and Friday5 and The Friday Five tripleheader!
Questions courtesy of 金曜五.
1. Whatcha been up to?
I think you mean, "Hey good lookin', what'cha got cookin'?" 'cause for the past week I've been a kitchen magician.
My friend Spewgie ding dong ditched me some squash. Squashes. Or, in the Latin, uashsquay.
Two can play at this game, Spew-chan! I ding dong ditched her with a turduckhen. A chicken in a duck in a turkey. Ordered two from someplace in Louisiana and didn't have room for both of them in the fridge. At least that's what I told her.
Okie dokie as they say. Take your sword, whack the squash in half, scoop out the seeds, put the halves into a roasting pan filled to about three-fourths of an inch of water, put a chunk of butter, salt and freshly ground pink pepper which comes from the Reunion Islands next door to Madagascar which tastes pretty much like regular black pepper but is way cooler in the well of the squashes and let her go for about forty minutes at 350°F in a preheated oven.
I like my squash a little on the mooshy side.
I could see God. One of the Top Ten Bites Of My Lifetime. I mean squash is okay but this was transcendent.
Can you remember the top ten bites of your lifetime? I can. Vividly.
Spewgie does not know the squash varietal. Not butternut. Definitely creamy. Dark green with yellow. Gourd-shaped. Not a spaghetti-type fiberous squash. Not a pumpkin. Spewgie Jr thinks she can remember the roadside farm stand where she and her mother bought the squash but with her limited view of he world from her child car safety seat I'm not so sure. It was nice to listen to her describe it to me on the telephone though.
2. What'cha doing?
Writing my new book. The Clue Of The Weeping Stigmata, A Sister Mary Veronica Mystery.
A few rough notes:
Set in the picturesque fictional town of Wauwatosa, Wisconsin, Sister Mary Veronica, SSND, is a mild-mannered Roman Catholic nun who looks absolutely adorkable with her high Asian cheekbones in the habit, wimple and veil of The Order Of The School Sisters Of Notre Dame, principal of Holy Redeemer Elementary School For Girls and Mother Superior of Holy Redeemer Convent.
Sister Mary Veronica and Assistant Principal Sister Mary Jean (AKA Sister Spewgie) are going over the books and discussing ways of increasing revenue. Adding a bingo night? Ask parishioners of Holy Redeemer Catholic Church to donate items for yet another white elephant sale? A raffle?
Puzzled by dwindling weekly meal program ticket sales despite an increasing demand for hot lunches and spiraling budgets from the cafeteria ladies, the sisters hop in the convent's roadster to visit the school's vendors only to find prices have not increased. Hmmmm. They probably could have telephoned but because of their vow of poverty, the sisters do not own cellphones. And using the telephones in their offices never occurred to them.
After a round of golf (with borrowed clubs because of their vow of poverty and two sets of golf clubs in touring bags won't fit in the roadster's trunk), trip to the sauna wearing nothing but black towels followed by a quick shower and a Reuben sandwich with french fries and Heinz 57 ketchup at the country club, the sisters return to the convent for their black négligées and lace veils and hushed prayers.
The following day while on playground patrol to enforce Angelus, the noon prayer, Sister Spewgie notices the odor of alcohol on several eighth grade students. Elizabeth Johnson, Priscilla Smith and Effervescence Brown. Betsy, Prissy, Effie. The usual troublemakers.
"How I would love to see those three expelled!" confided Sister Spewgie. "Sister, we are not to judge. That is our Lord's work. Our work is to administer harsh and cruel punishment," admonished Sister Veronica. "We shall keep them under increased survelliance."
Early the next morning in the chapel while the girls prayed the rosary, Sister Spewgie noticed an almost imperceptible purple stain on the palm of Effervescence's hand, Effie being the only black girl enrolled at Holy Redeemer.
During recess, baseball umpire Sister Spewgie cried, "Play ball!" and Sister Veronica took her ups at bat; her pert, firm breasts and willowy, feminine curves of her body hidden by the voluminous folds of her habit and veil. The pitch came in low and slightly outside.
A resounding thwack echoed across the playground. As Sister Veronica rounded third base, she noticed Betsy had a purple mark on her right ungloved hand. And sliding into home, Prissy, the catcher, too.
"Miss Johnson. Miss Smith. In my office," Sister Veronica commanded sternly.
Sister Spewgie had already taken Effie into custody. The three girls trembled in fear in their navy cardigans, starched white shirts, navy and red striped ties, plaid skirts, navy knee-highs and black penny loafers. "Let's see your hands!" They presented the back of their hands. "With the palms up!"
Each girl had matching indistinct dark purple stains. "Weeping stigmata!" gasped Sister Spewgie.
"Not stigmata," Sister Veronica corrected. "That is spirit ink. Which accounts for the alcohol you smelled, Sister Mary Jean. These girls have been engaged in unauthorized use of the school's mimeograph machine. They have been printing counterfeit weekly meal program tickets!"
"And selling them to their classmates cheaper than face value, I'd vouchsafe!" exclaimed Sister Spewgie.
For their complicity, the girls received a sentence of no recess for the rest of the semester, praying five hundred rosaries and compensating the school for lost revenue by working the dunk tank at the annual parish festival. Girls who bought the counterfeit lunch tickets were given one hundred rosaries, one hundred pushups in the shower after gym class and mandatory sales of one hundred raffle tickets.
And it went on their permanent record.
Our next installment: The Fifteenth Station Of The Cross, A Sister Mary Veronica Mystery.
Of course it needs a bit of fleshing out such as discovering the body of an elderly nun strangled with rosary beads, being locked in the cafeteria kitchen's cold storage and endearing peccadillos such as a penchant for taking the convent roadster through the Burger King drive-through to pick up a family bundle for $12.99 and sharing her french fries with poor homeless people, Kewpie mayonnaise, eating french fries with chopsticks, Heinz 57 ketchup, wearing limited edition Onitsuka Tiger Colorado '85 leather triple whites rather than standard issue unadorkable nun's shoes, Ray-Ban Aviator Large Metal II in gunmetal with green lenses, Shiseido products visible in the shower scene, Victoria's Secret lingerie (in basic black, natch), etc. This will also ensure lucrative product placement. To play the role of Sister Mary Veronica in the major motion picture studio release, yours truly. I think it will be bigger than Harry Potter.
3. What's new?
Other than uashsquay and turduckhen? Nothing much other than my new invention which will blow the lid off the culinary world which may be a mixed metaphor!
Ladies and germs, I give you the MYRTLE!
Ta-daaah! Named after Myrtle The Wonder Cat. Looks a lot like a terimayo hot dog, doesn't it? That's because it is. Before deep-frying. Woman does not live on Chicago dogs alone. Feel free to quote me on that. Sometimes I have even been known to eat a Detroit Coney. Simmer the dog, put it in a bun, pin the whole shebang together with bamboo skewers, dip in batter, put it a pre-heated deep fryer, watch it swim around in the hot oil which is nowhere near as entertaining as a front load washer on spin cycle, drain, squeeze some Kewpie mayonnaise and teriyaki sauce on it and sprinkle with seaweed.
Voilà!
Or try the appetizer-size MYRTIE!
Do you know how I know Myrtles are delicious? 'Cause Myrtle won't stop begging for more!
4. What's up?
Well my trip to the Waukesha frozen custard stand for cheeseburgers and milkshakes didn't go exactly as planned. The joint was jumping. So. After waiting in line for twenty minutes I finally got two pints of custard and zero cheeseburgers. They were so swamped. I was lucky to get the Blue Moon and jack-o'-lantern before they ran out. Must have been the combination of the Halloween blue moon in the sky and the custard Blue Moon.
Stopped off for a martini and Reuben at Fox And Hounds and a rosary at the basilica.
Good thing I had my Igloo Playmate cooler with me.
5. What's on the agenda?
What dessert goes with turduckhen?
Cherpumple. AKA Piecaken.
I went to school with a girl who studied in Sweden or Norway or someplace on a dessert scholarship. A scholarship for making desserts.
We were on the cross country team and somehow we got paired up together. I think we were both late for practice. Sister Winfreda wasn't feeling well; Spewgie was filling in as coach. We used the buddy system when we ran in public parks or on the street. So. We're running at half speed and our teammates had disappeared in the distance. One of us said something and we both cracked up so bad we fell on the ground in laughter. After about five minutes we were sort of back to normal except now we're hopelessly behind the other girls and in danger of being locked out of school. In our ratty practice sweats that were much too big for us and we wore inside out so no one could see where we went to school. Fortunately, Spewgie drove by and we hopped in the car. She wondered why we were so far behind and we told her whatever it was that whichever of us had said earlier and now all three of us are laughing so hard that we were crying and Spewgie had to pull over.
At our fifth year reunion retelling that story was followed by an awkward silence. It would probably be a lot better if we could remember what got us to laughing so hard. It was really funny, trust me.
She was also the girl whose shoe came off during a race AND SHE WENT BACK AND GOT IT. Yes. During a race. You can't make stuff like this up. Well I suppose you could but I'm not the creative type. That's Spewgie's department.
For the rest of the season Sister Winfreda made her tape her shoes on. I would have made her tape her shoes on for lacrosse, basketball, softball and track, too.
Anyways, now she's a pastry chef and a big authority on cakes and pastries; when I asked her about cherpumple she looked at me like I just blew in from Mars. I guess Michelin star restaurants must have stopped serving the really good desserts.
Well that's okay with me 'cause my favorite type of restaurant is the Wisconsin supper club which are pretty much extinct and if there is one thing I can't stand it's leaving a restaurant hungrier than before I came in. Forget about your degustation menus with the descriptions bigger than the Lilliputian servings, wine pairings with the thimbleful of plonk, reverse spheriphication, liquid nitrogen, plankton-infused sea water gel. And then they act like they're doing you a great big favor.
Plankton-infused sea water gel. If I wanted to eat whale food that badly I'd swim around in the ocean with my mouth open. Like raindrop cake. And we all know how yummy that is. Except with all sorts of nutritious organisms.
And that glass potato chips business is for the birds.
Cherpumple. Cherry, pumpkin and apple pies baked in three different layers of white, yellow and spice cakes. And buttercream frosting! Three of my favorite food groups in one except I kind of cheated and was thinking cherocolotato. Cherry pie in white cake, chocolate pie in choco cake and sweet potato from Okinawa with haupia frosting. White cocoanut frosting on a vivid purple pie. I had never heard of frosting on a pie before. The same sweet potato as Filipino purple ube ice cream in the halo halo but from Japan. Baked in a cocoanut cake. Maybe pandan.
To begin my experiment, I made a cherry pie. One layer of the cake required cutting the cherry pie in half, placing it in an oversized lasagna pan kind of scrunched over to one side, pouring in the batter, baking, carefully removing it from the pan because the pie is far more dense than the cake and repeating the process. Five more times. And then cutting the layers into a circular shape and pray the buttercream frosting repaired some pretty serious structural flaws.
Y'know how in the Slinky television commercial the Slinky walks down stairs? Yeah. Because the steps are four inches wide. A Slinky won't walk down regular stairs without a care. Cold hard reality set in. Just like the grim realization our Slinky was not anywhere near as much fun as the Slinky in the advertisements. Based on a lie. No one told us we didn't have the right kind of stairs. Which was addressed in the groundbreaking Takahashi vs Slinky in which Supreme Court justice Spewgie upheld the death penalty sentence against the unrepentant Slinky Corporation, if indeed that is their real name, for crimes against the happiness of children. Why would anyone cheat two sweet little girls? Jerks.
Without round cake pans large enough to contain a whole pie, I was Slinkyfying the whole operation. And let's face it. Thanks to coronavirus, Thanksgiving and Christmas are pretty much cancelled. And forget about New Year's.
One year Spewgie and I went to a big New Year's Eve party high atop one of the fancy schmantzy hotels in downtown Chicago. Dinner, dancing to an orchestra, champagne. The dreamy life. She was Little Red Riding Hood; I was Little Bo Peep. While we're waiting at the bar, some drunk guy walks up to us and goes, "Where's your wolf, Red? And your sheep, Bo?" and our old boyfriends, who'd finally returned from the men's room, tapped him on the shoulder. "Right here, pal." The wolf was easy but we couldn't find a sheep costume big enough so had to rent a polar bear suit without the head and the zipper got stuck in the acrylic fur.
I just want to go on record and say that I would have been perfectly happy to carry around a lamb plushie and my shepherd's crook. Go ahead. Go as a stupid pirate. Waiting 'til the last minute and then expecting me to find a sheep outfit.
Oh. And somewhere in there was a great big cake.
So. I gave up. Which is uncharacteristic of me. But not for good. There is a cake baking shop where I buy food grade gum arabic for mixing Brandy Old Fashioned Sweets. Everything you can imagine for making cakes. And decorating. Big buckets of different frostings ready to go. Brides and grooms, grooms and grooms, brides and brides. For the wedding cakes. Planning a birthday party for Fluffy or Scruffy? Pick a breed, any breed. Birthday candles, Kwanzaa candles, Hanukkah candles. Even airbrushes and compressors for painting cakes and edible glitter. They will have big round cake pans. Maybe for the Fourth Of July. And I did get a cherry pie out of it. Wasn't a total loss.
And that, dear reader, is why I shouldn't respond to 金曜五 after drinking gin all night.
My uncle's funeral. The immediate family was supposed to hang around the cemetery until pretty much all the other mourners left and then go to his favorite restaurant for Brandy Old Fashioned Sweets and eating together without social distancing and obviously not wearing coronavirus masks.
I even wore my tropical face mask made of aloha shirt fabric because we enjoyed vacations to Hawaii. 2019 was the last time we cruised together. My mother and I, my uncle. aunt, several cousins. My first time aboard a non-Holland America ship. Our 2020 trip was cancelled.
So sorry. I am in a high risk group.
2. What’s a real stick-to-your-ribs meal you enjoy?
Lately I have been hungry for Bavarian food. The cuisine of love.
Only known photograph of König Ludwig and Königin 勝美. Yep, you guessed it. I'm a time traveler.
'Twas love at first sight. Well, for him anyway. Chasing me all around our castle. "Liebchen! Mein schotzi!" "Get your paws off me, you big palooka!" Poor thing. I drove him mad with desire. A whirlwind fairy tale romance.
König Ludwig's Schnitzel. Mit weißem spargel und sauce Hollandaise. Pan-seared veal schnitzel topped with tender spears of white asparagus and velvety lemony Hollandaise. I plagiarized that from a menu I found online. Traditionally served with boiled, parsley new potatoes but I would order french fries and Heinz 57 ketchup. Queens can do that.
3. When did you most recently regret sticking around for something?
The wedding I attended a few weeks ago. Wish I would have left the moment the outdoor ceremony was over.
Perfect example of why wedding receptions should be cancelled during coronavirus. Have the party next year. I just stayed at my table and drank bottled water. And tried to render first aid to one of the groom's grandmothers.
4. When did you recently navigate a sticky situation?
We can no longer have neighborhood association parties at the neighborhood historic house because the Historic Society sold it. As an alternative to nighttime Trick Or Treating and because there weren't enough volunteers for individual block "parades", I was thinking some kind of socially distanced parade at the park. The little ones could march around in their costumes for treats along the "parade route" or maybe like an Easter egg hunt. In the dark.
Permit denied. Two weeks is not enough time to process the paperwork.
BLM rioters called for another of their so-called peaceful protests at the village park on Halloween night.
So. I called City Hall.
勝美: If you allow BLM to use the park, I'm going to sue the city.
City Hall: A BLM representative paid the twenty-five dollar non-resident park fee.
勝美: I am a resident. My request was placed two weeks ago. I was informed the park was available but my paperwork was submitted past the deadline.
City Hall: I'm sorry, but...
勝美: I am Asian. Are you saying black lives matter but Asian lives do not matter? That's what I'm hearing. May I please speak with your supervisor?
Permit rescinded. No protest.
If I don't get to party, nobody gets to party. Had I known it was that easy, I might have circumvented the whole Summer Of Love.
5. What recently gave you sticker shock?
Do you have any idea how much a car costs in Thailand? Lots.
There is a three hundred percent import tax on automobiles. And you can't get the car of your dreams.
Let's say we want a 2020 Z4 roadster. Lots of luck, pal. All kinds of BMW crossovers and SUVs and that's about it. The closest we're going to get is a Boxster or a Mercedes SL. No Miatas. Thailand is in the tropics. A white roadster with light grey leather would be nice. With air con (or as we call it, air conditioning) for hot 'n' humid beastly days. Which happen a lot unless we're in the mountains. And, believe it or not, a demister (defroster). Trust me. A demister is considered an essential. Unless you are driving a Jeep-like vehicle without doors. Notice how I said Jeep-like. No doors in monsoon season has got to involve bailing out the passenger compartment. Unless we've permanently removed the drain plugs. Or given up and drilled holes in the floor of our Jeep-like vehicle and cover them with a floor mat to prevent geysers from squirting up when we drive through a puddle.
Don't worry about unimportant stuff like which side the steering wheel is on (hopefully right, we're in Thailand), automatic or manual tranny or turbo-charged engine.
Hope you're sitting down.
There you go. A brand spankin' new white Boxster. Actually a seventeen-year-old, high-kilometer 2003 Audi TT Quattro. On sale for only ฿750000. Or $24,517.82 at current exchange rates. If you could find a new Boxster or Mercedes SL in whatever color, expect to shell out close to half a million bucks.
Godspeed with delivery 'cause that's in Bangkok and we're in Kamala. Phang Nga Province. 838 kilometers away. So you should get it in time for Christmas. Next year.
1. What was the best part of your Halloween this year?
There wasn't. As neighborhood association Halloween Queen, I cancelled Halloween. No nighttime Trick Or Treating, no après party with a [supervised] fire for making s'mores with the older children helping the young ones and maybe just a little bit spooky stories, no Chili Cook-Off Competition for the adults.
Running the coveted Neighborhood Association Golden Ladle Award through the dishwasher not recommended 'cause all the glitter will come off.
I did go to the frozen custard stand for their very special Flavor Of The Day. Blue Moon. No carhops and strict social distancing kind of puts the crimp in the drive-in experience.
And all the neighbors went outdoors to view the blue moon. In the sky.
2. What is your best Halloween memory of all time?
My boyfriend knows my favorite animal is the dairy cow. He begged his mother to make a Holstein-Friesian outfit. One of those adorable little kid hoodie and sweatpants costumes. With spots and a tail.
And because of coronavirus, a matching spotted mask.
Then he asked his mother for permission to cross the street to see me.
3. What are the three things that you enjoy the most about the fall season?
1. Walking through the forest in the crisp weather to the spring to gather watercress.
2. Stopping at roadside farm stands for baking pumpkins and jack-o'-lantern pumpkins.
3. Attending morning Mass and then climbing the bell tower of the basilica and walking the Stations Of The Cross.
4. What is your favorite autumn memory?
Driving home through the forest from the supper club, a special type of restaurant unique to Wisconsin that has unfortunately become extinct, on a soft autumn night with the top down on the roadster. On twisting leaf-strewn asphalt roads with my favorite songs on the stereo.
Hard to believe being that young. Still in high school. Rina, the drummer, and I are the same age. Trying to get a visa and tickets for their fifteenth anniversary concert in Osaka in August.
5. If you could travel anywhere to experience autumn, where would you go and why?
Stay right here. Winter is my favorite season; autumn is a close second.
A few weeks ago, experienced a glorious Indian Summer day. Put the top down on the roadster and went for a spin. Was gone all day and most of the night. Even took the ferry to Washington Island.
Another 金曜五 and Friday5 doubleheader!
Questions courtesy of 金曜五.
1. Whatcha been up to?
Doctor appointments. Seems like the whole week was spent in waiting rooms.
In the past, I'd always taken a copy of The New Yorker with me. Subscriber since junior high. Don't even read the latest issue. Just peel off the mailing label and throw it on the stack. Packed a dozen magazines in my suitcase for vacation reading with my afternoon cheeseburger and martini and a dozen in my carry on bag for reading on the plane. And The New Yorker was a way of marking my territory. To stake out a table while I waited on line for the cheeseburger and fries. Find a good location and plop down the magazine and my cigarettes and lighter to hold my place.
And that one cocktail waitress who was a dead ringer for Rina Suzuki.
Rina Suzuki of SCANDAL as the bunny / drummer in Halloween Junky Orchestra. Seven years before coronavirus.
So pretty. So shy. After the second day she knew all my preferences so I just give her the high sign. Saving me from the arduous task of saying, "A martini. Beefeater, Noilly Prat extra dry, straight up, two olives, please. Let's make it a double," "Beefeater and pink lemonade, please," or "Beefeater and tonic, please."
Tipping is not required. But I do it anyways.
Shortly after I quit cigarettes the onboard smoking policy changed drastically. From wherever you please to Lido deck starboard between the rear bar and aft swimming pool.
Pretty small area. In spite of this, hardcore nonsmokers order healthy nonalcoholic drinks at the Sea View Bar and make certain everyone can see them waving the smoke away. On an open deck with the ship's speed at twenty knots and a strong cross deck breeze registering six on the Beaufort Wind Force Scale.
Yes. Strong breeze is a scientific measurement. No. Zephyr is not on the Beaufort Scale.
You poor poor thing. Having to sit with the sinners who are going straight to hell. There are a dozen non-smoking bars on this sampan, sport. Go back to the gym or spa you came from.
I didn't quit smoking for my health. I quit because my friend Spewgie was getting married and we thought wedding pictures with the bride and maid of honor smoking cigarettes would look bad. A year later Spewgie Jr came along. So. It is for the better. But my sympathies lie with the smoking camp.
To prepare for my winter cruise (which was cancelled due to coronavirus after checking into my hotel in San Diego), I purchased a tablet, Bluetooth headphones, a case / easel thingy, and micro SD extended memory card. Downloaded Dickens, Twain, Typee by Herman Melville, The Evolution Of Useful Things: How Everyday Artifacts — From Forks And Pins To Paper Clips And Zippers — Came To Be As They Are, deluxe iIllustrated edition, by Henry Petroski, magazines, movies, music, maps and tropical birdwatching and plant identification guides.
I can see why people become so addicted to their cellphones. Maybe someday I will break down and join the twenty-first century.
It was luxury watching SCANDAL songs and silent movies on the plane. In the past I'd taken my laptop along, mainly to watch movies in my stateroom. Yes. There is a large wall-mounted television. I brought along a twelve foot adaptor cable so I could watch movies downloaded onto the laptop while I was in bed. A forceps so I could reach the inputs on the back of the wall-mounted television and a universal remote control so I could access the inputs. Nowadays there are all kinds of movies and satellite channels on Ship TV but I watch G rated movies. Sometimes PG.
Laptops are too clunky for use on the plane.
Having a tablet at the doctor's office is really nice. Sometimes I'd even pick up a wi-fi signal which enhanced my waiting room experience.
2. What's the latest from the front?
Attorney Kimberley Chongyon Motley represents the family of Alvin Cole, the convicted juvenile felon and gang banger who stold a semiautomatic gun and shot up the shopping mall, delivered an ultimatium.
1. "Direct the Police and Fire Commission to demote Wauwatosa Police Chief Barry Weber immediately "for his failed leadership particularly in supervising Officer Joseph Mensah, enabling a culture of police violence against peaceful protestors and increasing potential legal liabilities against Wauwatosa taxpayers."
Nice try, Kim. It was Chief Weber's leadership that got us through the riots. The protesters were not peaceful. And there are no "increasing potential legal liabilities against Wauwatosa taxpayers". Kim thinks she's riding the gravy train. Another one of her schemes to intimidate.
Wauwatosa is insured. You won't be facing the city attorney in court. You'll be fighting insurance lawyers.
2. "Date certain for body cameras for all Wauwatosa Police Officers."
That is the fault of the Wauwatosa Common Council for denying Chief Weber's budgets for years.
I notice Kim has changed her tune. "All police officers" rather than "police officers".
That is because John Larry, racist appointed chairperson of the Wauwatosa Ad Hoc Committee On Policing And Systemic Inequities, was caught out in a lie when he said he was protesting peacefully.
WARNING: NSFW. Language, implied violence.
It is a common misbelief the police department doesn't have bodycams.
Some officers do.
Larry obviously didn't know that.
From a recent Policing And Systemic Inequities meeting:
Larry: How did that get on YouTube?
YouTube and TikTok and Twitter and Dailymotion and Vimeo and Nico Nico... Freedom Of Information Act. Open records.
Same tactics you use.
Heather Kuhl was suddenly concerned about an individual's privacy. "Don't the police have to ask permission [to record]?
Probably because Heather was caught out in late night BLM caravans going through Wauwatosa neighborhoods to incite fear. The very people she took an oath to represent.
And guess what? I did a little digging. Disgraced ex-alderperson Heather Kuhl voted against the police budget. As in bodycams. Twice.
3. "Dismiss any and all tickets as it relates to any nonviolent peaceful protests starting with Taleavia Cole."
Nope. Taleavia boasted she would buy a steak dinner for the officer who could arrest her. She's really enjoying the attention she's getting from her brother's death. Taleavia knowingly broke the law. She will pay her fine or have her day in court like everyone else.
4. "Return any and all property such as phones. cameras. etc... to any and all citizens "starting with the return of Taleavia Coles phone which has been illegally searched and seized by the Wauwatosa Police Department."
A distortion of the facts. You'd think a law school graduate would know better.
The protesters' property has always been available.
You have to go to the police department to pick it up. With proper ID. The police do not make deliveries.
Of course that may be a problem for protesters wanted on priors or with bail or parole violations. Which explains why no one has picked up their stuff.
5. "Direct Weber to Fire Officer Mensah — which LEGALLY CAN happen today - for his repeated violations of the Wauwatosa Police rules since he has been on suspended leave from July 15 onwards."
You crazy girl! How many times do I have to tell you only the Police And Fire Commission can hire, fire and discipline. Besides, how is Chief Weber going to do anything if he is demoted [see Demand #1].
6. "Develop strategies within the Wauwatosa Police Department to deal with nonviolent mental health calls to the police to be handled by mental health professionals."
Okie dokie. You answer the 911 calls if you're so smart.
Kim, you also represent the family of Antonio Gonzalez.
In that incident, officers responding to neighbors' 911 calls were confronted by Gonzalez who had a history of mental health issues and, according to toxicology reports, had a BAC of .255. Beyond three sheets to the wind. Refused to drop his sword and charged at retreating officers.
Why was he drinking in violation of his bail conditions? Where was his family? Of course now that they've been lured by promises of a lucrative payday from the lawsuit they're showing an unprecedented concern for Antonio. If only they'd cared for him earlier he'd still be alive.
7. "A public apology from the Wauwatosa Police Department for targeting, attacking. and arresting Tracy Cole and her three daughters."
So sorry. Tracy, Taleavia, Tahudah and Tristiana Cole violated curfew and resisted arrest.
8. "Renaming of Wauwatosa Madison Park to Jay Anderson, Jr. Park."
Yeah. That's a county park. Not a Wauwatosa park. A park where he dealt drugs and passed out in his car parked on the basketball court at three o'clock in the morning. Caught on police dashcam.
Jay-Z's Team ROC added: "We call for the city to divest $6million from the $17million police budget in Wauwatosa. Reallocate those funds into education, mental health services, housing, youth employment, violence intervention and other community services."
Reduce the budget? That means no bodycams. Believe me, the police and citizens of Wauwatosa want bodycams. John Larry, racist appointed chairperson of the Wauwatosa Ad Hoc Committee On Policing And Systemic Inequities, and disgraced ex-alderperson Heather Kuhl were the first to get their comeuppances.
Trust me. I read enough Nancy Drew books in my childhood and being the youngest of three sisters, I can keep up this "John Larry, racist appointed chairperson of the Wauwatosa Ad Hoc Committee On Policing And Systemic Inequities, and disgraced ex-alderperson Heather Kuhl" business all day.
Wauwatosa has a good school system, mental health services are handled by the county, Wauwatosa is well above median housing and income.
Our problem is Milwaukee.
Motley is an ambulance chaser nonpareil. Hard to believe we both attended Marquette. Even harder to believe Kim is representing Alvin Cole, convicted juvenile felon and gang banger who stold a semiautomatic gun, was in possession of an illegal thirty-five round magazine and shot up the shopping mall, when her husband, Claudaire Motley, was seriously wounded by Nathan King in a carjacking attempt and was sentenced to prison.
In a wheelchair. Nathan King was permanently paralyzed while committing his next crime.
How did Alvin Cole become a martyr? Why didn't Attorney Kimberley Chongyon Motley pursue charges against Nathan King's victim? Who returned fire. Just like Officer Mensah returned fire after Alvin Cole shot at him. That is called hypocrisy. Where is the love, Kim?
3. What's up?
What's not up. The Coca-Cola Signature Mixers. Herbal, Smoky, Spicy, and Woody.
The Woody was most intriguing as it contains vetiver, my favorite scent. Actually vetiver has to be mixed with other stuff otherwise you'll smell like a hamster cage.
Designed as a mixer for dark spirits. An import from England.
If you're buying decent liquor, why doctor it with Coca-Cola mixers?
So sorry. No sale. I drink gin and I'm not shelling out twenty bucks for shipping.
What am I talking about? I paid fifty for the stuff I ordered from Japan.
That does not make sense to me. Do you mean to tell me I can ship a 1993 Suzuki Jimny from Yokohama to Baltimore for five hundred smackers but a couple of yukatas and Pocky are fifty dollars? Waaaaaooooo!
4. What's new?
Christmas shopping has been done for months but was thinking of getting something special for my friend Spewgie.
Check it out:
Osaka Castle. SCANDAL began by busking in Osaka Castle Park on Sunday afternoons before being discovered by Kitty Records. When we were little, Spewgie and I loved assembling models. With Osaka Castle, we could create THE ULTIMATE OBSESSIVE CLINICALLY INSANE FAN PROJECT! A diorama of Osaka Castle Park complete with SCANDAL in 1:150 scale. On sale for only ¥45000. Or $431.85.
Problem: We already have a half-assembled Victorian doll house that has been sitting unfinished for twenty years.
Our favorite airplane is the Mitsubishi A6M Reisen, AKA Imperial Navy Type 0 carrier fighter, from which the sobriquet "Zero" is derived.
Problem: It's green.
Detail of Tamiya model. The tips of the wings fold for close parking on an aircraft carrier.
Remember in Tora! Tora! Tora! how some of the Zeroes were green? BZZZZT! No green airplanes until later in the war when some Zeroes were island-based. The attack planes were carrier-based. And they weren't Zeroes. They were T-6 Texans, an American WWII trainer.
While searching for a photograph of a remote control Zero, I discovered a restored Zero in Switzerland of all places which was recently sold for sixteen million dollars. Oh well. It wouldn't have fit in Spewgie's garage anyway.
Back to the drawing board.
5. What's on the agenda?
To wrap up my birthmonth, tomorrow's Flavors Of The Day at the custard stand in Waukesha are Jack-O'-Lantern and Blue Moon.
Except for the marshmallow, sounds pretty yummy. Who puts marshmallow in Blue Moon? Not a big fan of marshmallow despite all the years of indoctrination in Daisy, Brownie and Girl Scouts. As in s'mores. I mean, they're alright. Especially around a campfire. So. Looks like I will be getting a double cheeseburger with onion, tomato, lettuce (I bring my own Kewpie mayonnaise) and french fries (I bring my own Heinz 57 ketchup. And chop sticks).
But tomorrow I am not getting a sundae. Or banana split. Or two cones. Or two dishes. I am getting a Jack-O'-Lantern milkshake and a Blue Moon milkshake. Super thick. Crazy.
The forecast for lunchtime is sunny and a balmy 52° F / 11.1° C. That is bikini weather around here. I will probably go to Oconomowoc and eat by the lake and then go watercress gathering. This will mark my fourth venture out of the house since my original quarantine in March (other than doctor appointments or picking up food curbside or in the drive-through). To blend in with the natives, I am thinking twintail braids, Ray-Ban Wayfarers, dark grey facemask, dark grey herringbone Harris tweed sports jacket and newsboy cap, black scrubs, white Puma Easy Riders and changing shoes when I get to the marsh.
Ooh. I should put a couple of gas cans in the trunk of the roadster. To buy pure 93 octane gasoline without ethanol. Which I cannot get here.
I am one smart cookie. Smarter than the average bear.
They say that time heals all wounds but I don't think so. The initial shock, the grief, the confusion, the rawness, the sting. That part fades away over the years but the emptiness is always there. I miss you.
2. What’s exciting in the beginning and end, but dull in the middle?
Harry Potter. In the first two movies we are introduced to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Harry, Hermione and Ron are wearing their cute little school uniforms.
While fact checking my answer, I just found out the late Rik Mayall who starred in The Young Ones, my favorite television program, was cast as a poltergeist in Harry Potter but ended up on the cutting room floor. I would like to see those outtakes.
Somewhere I came across Mayall and real life BFF and fellow actor Ade Edmondson onstage and breaking character.
WARNING: NSFW.
If it wasn't for the language that would give you a pretty good idea of me 'n' Spewgie. Except we're younger and way prettier.
When Rik Mayall died, Edmondson eulogized, "And now he's died for real. Without me. The selfish bastard."
If Spewgie goes to that big smörgåsbord with unlimited refills on large beverages and ten percent discount for seniors before four o'clock in the sky before me, I'm going to steal that line for my impassioned yet bereaved speech at the church. Looking absolutely adorable in my silk top hat with the long trailing gauzy scarf tied round the hatband and Victorian mourning dress. That'll put the fun back into funeral. Or maybe have it chiseled on her gravestone.
One of those New Orleans funerals. With the jazz band, the black horses with the funerary plumes, black livery and casket with the black wreath in a glass hearse, a flower wagon, parasols and dancing in the street. I suppose Spewgie's husband will have something to say about that. Party pooper.
Is it a coincidence that the first two films were directed by Chris Columbus (I know, major teasing, hey?) with screenplay by Steven Kloves? Really well written, well paced, terrific musical score...
When we were in junior high, my friend Spewgie and I would sometimes hop on the bus, go downtown and sneak into film lectures at Marquette University. For years I participated in online silent film discussion groups.
I distinctly recall one guy saying, "Oh yeah. That's my favorite movie. I've seen it ten times." Ten times? I've seen Birth Of A Nation at least fifty times and I hate it. With a passion. Maybe because I am Asian and Roman Catholic. I'm against the KKK.
Wonder?
And Breakfast At Tiffany's.
I'm willing to bet I've watched the first Harry Potter at least sixty times. But I am the type who rereads favorite books dozens and dozens of times, too.
I don't know if Columbus left the series or the studio thought it was time for new blood but the subsequent films are a miasma of Hermione going to the Yule Ball and visiting the Ministry Of Magic and I don't know what.
Then the final film comes around and it is a relief Harry isn't really dead, Voldemort is defeated, Ron marries Hermione, Harry marries Ginny, we have the wistful send off of their children on Platform 9¾ and everyone lives happily ever after.
Well yippee ki yo ki yay. Like we didn't see that one coming.
3. What’s delicious at first but progressively worse as you go along?
Sunburn.
Setting out the blanket and picnic things on the beach, getting the kites in the air, splashing in the water, lying prone and the lazy delicious feeling as the sun warms our backs.
And by evening putting driftwood on the fire we are as red as a lobster and clothing feels like sandpaper on our skin.
4. What makes you feel terrible while you’re doing it but great when you’re done?
Breaking up with a boyfriend? I don't really feel terrible. I gave up on feelings. I don't care.
Hmm. That's a poor example. How about bleaching the shower? Peeling onions? Painting the staircase ceiling?
Hai hai hai. Beating up LaChanette Glass in that unfortunate lunchroom incident. I don't know that I felt great about being expelled from high school, though. And I didn't feel exactly terrible when she attacked me and I dented the table with her head.
Someone is going to have to explain number four to the pretty girl. So sorry. I prepared for more Halloween-oriented questions. I'm even wearing my stupid witch's hat.
♫ ♪ La la la la la la la la Halloween Party
La la la la la la la la Let's Trick Or Treat ♪ ♫
5. What did you once do quickly but now do slowly?
Running. Since my friend Spewgie gave birth to her daughter, Spewgie Jr, we haven't trained hard. At a pre-coronavirus Storm The Bastile 5K we signed up amateur status rather than competitive.
Life in the slow lane.
Another 金曜五 and Friday5 doubleheader!
Questions courtesy of 金曜五.
1. Whatcha been up to?
Another wedding. Another outdoor ceremony. At the country club. The party favors were wedding coronavirus masks and hand sanitizer.
I'm certain we all know the importance of the bride having her special day but she is my age and with her looks the family is lucky to have gotten rid of her at all. Last month I attended an outdoor wedding. Mid-September. That's kind of pushing it in my climate.
Temperature: 47° F. Overcast, very windy.
Last week was Indian Summer. Missed a glorious warm autumn day with blazing yellow, red and orange trees. The minivan has already become my principle vehicle.
Guest list was drastically slashed. Sixty people in attendance tops. Orchestra cancelled. Even with social distancing the party easily fit into one of the smaller halls at the club. And because of coronavirus, instead of the country club staff (which had pursued other employment), a restaurant catered the banquet. I had the barely warmed over chicken with sautéed baby carrot and unpeeled boiled new potato. Singular. Couldn't even be bothered to peel the damn potato. Or there was an equally yummy choice of either steak in a puddle of runny brown liquid or vegetarian ravioli in tomato sauce. What kind of a charm school dropout serves runny brown or tomato sauces at a social function when people have been drinking and one slip up is going to lead to a frantic dipping of the napkin into the glass of ice water in an ineffectual attempt to blot the stain? As usual I ate before I got there which was a good thing. Supper accompanied by the wedding party delivering their "funny" and "touching" speeches. The bridesmaids spoke of grade school and junior high school triumphs and tragedies. The best man was cut off before regaling us with the part about the strippers at the previous night's bachelor party.
Charming.
Punctuated by mandatory laughter. And / or applause.
Do not interrupt me while I am eating.
One time I was tailgating and some guy from WBAY CHANNEL 2 ACTION SPORTS and his camera crew started towards me across the parking lot in interview mode. Two of my friends intercepted them. "Do you see that girl over there? If you talk to her while she is eating she will kill you."
Then everyone got to leave the hall to troop outside again, the ladies shivering without their wraps, form two lines facing the other, issued giant sparklers lit by the bridesmaids and held them aloft as the bride and groom "marched down the aisle" in a whirlwind of burning magnesium sparks.
One of the groom's grandmothers fell. I checked her out. Badly sprained ankle. We should call for an ambulance. I'm in the genuflecting pose with my left stockinged knee on the fake cobblestones trying to make one of the waitresses understand "please get a towel and ice"; meanwhile, someone had run into the hall and retrieved a wheeled walker equipped with handbrakes and a sitting bench. I did not know there was such a thing. So if you get pooped while you're taking a spin around the assisted living facilty courtyard you can put on the brakes to sit a spell. Several people picked the grandmother up, helped seat her on the walker and rolled her back into the hall to continue the festivities. She was a trooper. Made it all the way through the bride and groom's first dance and the father and bride dance before her ankle really started swelling and it was ambulance time but what do I know? Only taught Girl Scouts First Aid merit badge which included certified CPR training for five years with the able assistance of my dear friend Brad Pitt.
Ladies, meet Brad. Pucker up for the Kiss Of Life.
Usually calling an ambulance is the sign of a successful party but by then I'd already polished off my piece of wedding cake (promising yet generic choco and canned Betty Crocker vanilla buttercream) so I didn't stick around for seconds. Or thirds.
2. What's the latest from the front?
Disgraced ex-alderwoman Heather Kuhl was absent from the Ad Hoc Committee On Policing And Social Inequities meeting.
S'matter, Heather? Come out and play.
I even had Spewgie put my hair up in cornrows because Heather looks like a hair-puller...
I pray thee, good Spewgio, let's retire:
The day is hot, the Heather abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl;
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. — ウィリアムシェイクスピア
...and a biter. I was ready to jump over the communion rail or whatever it is you call that thing that separates the public from the committee members and beat the living snot out of Heather for bringing riots to my city and then having the nerve to criticize the police and National Guard for their "heavy presence". What did you expect? We'd let you burn down my neighborhood? Burn down your own neighborhood, bitch. You're the one who was photographed participating in the late night BLM joyrides through the neighborhood to instill fear. Intimidating your own neighbors.
Incongruous that Heather ran a "Hate has no home here" sign making business out of her living room and even begged for money on GoFundMe so poor people could put a sign in their front yards, too.
Heather quit the Common Council last week after a secret Twitter account she had for five years was exposed. Disgusting filth and hatred. From someone who epouses love and peace.
Now I am fighting to get her official City Of Wauwatosa alderwoman emails. Open records, Heather.
Heather can dish it out but she can't take it.
3. What's up?
Yuka Kinoshita made "mashed potatoes" out of a large McDonald's french fries. Oishi! Yeah, well it looked like a whole stick of butter and I don't know how much cream went in there so it better be pretty oishi alright.
She then proceeded to schmear a glop of mashed potatoes on her McDonald's riceburger. OISHI!
Can't remember where we were. I think it was a vacation with Spewgie's family and my parents. We were in the free breakfast line.
I do recall the hotel had really nice chafing dishes. I dislike it when you're expected to remove the lid from a crockpot or Nesco in a makeshift buffet and then perform a magical balancing act while serving yourself. Or some rickety operation involving a can of flaming Sterno regarded as a dangerous accelerant by four out of five dentists. To tell you the truth, I am not a big fan of indoor fires unless it is in the fireplace. Cherries Jubilee, Bananas Foster, Crêpes Suzette... Uh uh. Forget about saganaki, too. Opa! Romantic candlelight and birthday cakes are my limit. I got the pyro out of my system a long time ago.
When we were little, Spewgie and I used the buddy system; one serves while the other one holds the plates. These chafing dishes were intuitive. Each was labeled so people weren't opening things to check what's inside. Hinged lids. No muss, no fuss.
And everything was matching.
Typical free breakfast fare with scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browned potatoes, toast, fruits, juices, coffee, tea, milk. The food was hot, plentiful, regularly replenished and the layout was well designed. Each chafing dish had ample space to put a plate down and a metal tray for the tongs or serving spoon. Usually there isn't a designated place for the service utensils and people throw them in with the eggs in and close the lid.
In line for seconds and kind of looking around for another bottle of ketchup and what do I see? A Kotobuki shamoji. A comedy utensil for serving rice based on the scientific principal of weebles wobble but they don't fall down. Which means there is a rice cooker nearby. Score! My plate was already kind of loaded so I just kind of piled the rice on the eggs and hash browns.
Meanwhile, back at the table, the waitress had replaced the empty ketchup bottle and Spewgie was getting the new one started with a few whacks on the bottom for her scrambled eggs. I am too impatient. I couldn't wait.
Rice and hash browns are oishi! If you thought the potatoes and rice were delicious together in curry, you will be very surprised.
I would like to try omurice with a base layer of Yuka-style mashed potato fries. Or scalloped potatoes. Maybe Wisconsin-style poutine with tater tots, mouse cheese (cheese curds so fresh they squeak when you eat 'em), a great big ladleful of beef demi-glace. Or is it Sauce Espagnole? Whatevs. And rice.
4. What's new?
Check it out.
A candlelight LED bulb. It has a day / night sensor! The "flames" automatically change direction if it's screwed in upside down! It will look perfect in my coach lamp.
I will wait until after Halloween. I've already cancelled nighttime Trick Or Treating in our neighborhood for this year. Spewgie and I toyed with the idea of a Halloween Parade. Or many decentralized block parades. As uze, not enough volunteers.
If it hadn't been for the police and the National Guard, it would have been me 'n' Spewgie vs the BLM rioters.
Before we got all gung ho on Halloween alternatives, Spewgie ran a check for registered sex offenders.
I'm just going to put on my witch's hat and drop off Pocky or Almond Joy at the houses with children on my block and my boyfriend. Maybe I will make a special candy or choco caramel apple for him.
He misses me. He saw me working outside and must have asked his mother for permission to cross the street to help rake leaves. And wore his coronavirus mask and maintained a ten to twenty-foot social distance. He thinks I look prettier when I wear round clothes (boat and crew neck sweaters) than triangle clothes (V-necks). Is my monkey fur sweater really made out of monkeys? No. It is made out of mohair. What's mohair? Fur from a goat. Like when we turned the sheep at the farm into yarn? Precisely like shearing the sheep and spinning the wool at Old World Wisconsin. Except my sweater is from Angora goats; not sheep. Or monkeys. Yellow locust leaves are the best. When the leaf falls it is like a helicopter. Because it flutters? Yeah, but they're small and hard to rake. Red maple are pretty, too. He stayed at his grandmother's house for a few days. (His parents sent him away during the riots.) My grandmother has an owl. (He was awoken by a "who who who" during the night.) Alas, all too soon we had to be content with waving goodbye to each other.
This is the same kid who didn't believe me when I explained a long time ago there were no streets. Chief Wauwatosa of the Potawatomi tribe lived here.
And he tilted his head and squinted at me. "If there weren't any streets, then how did Chief Wauwatosa get to the Pick 'N' Save?"
Touché, mon ami.
5. What's on the agenda?
Daydreaming of Hello Kitty momoberry Wisconsin-style kakigori.
The Swan SI-100E ice shaver. Over five pounds of delicate snow in less than a minute!
Treat the family or the whole neighborhood to delicious frozen custard and snow desserts! Make a snowball and nail Heather Kuhl in the head! Without waiting until winter!
But wait... There's more:
Incredibly durable metal frame encased in high quality plastic.
Available in your choice of teal blue.
The convenient drip tray is perfect for redirecting and leaking water onto the floor.
Now how much would you pay for such a quality ice shaver? $5000? $3000? $2000?
Nope.
The Swan SI-100E can be yours for an incredible $1795.00! That right! Only $1795.00!
Order now! Call 1-800-555-SNOW. Shipping, handling, the optional foot pedal, momoberry syrup, azuki beans, frozen custard and ice not included. All major credit cards accepted. Call 1-800-555-SNOW now!
You're tempting me. Hmmm. For $1795.00 I can run out in the backyard with a bowl and get my own snow.
2. What kinds of linens and stuff do you have on your bed today?
It's not a bed. It's a futon.
Most importantly, I switched from my summer pajamas (either scrubs or men's boxers, men's white cotton tennis or maybe golf shirt, footies / tabi) to winter (same summer base layered with matching light or dark grey sweats and a zippy hoodie). Last week I finally broke down and turned on the furnace. Myrtie has never been an affectionate cat but she's been snuggly and clingy lately. Because we've had frost. To stay warm.
FUN FACT: If I have to make an emergency run to the store or go for a midnight spin in the roadster, I put my hair in a pony, put on a pair of sneaks and a jacket and off I go. In my jammies.
For summer, white cotton percale sheets. For winter, white cotton flannel.
I wash the bedclothes frequently. With All Free And Clear concentrated detergent and chlorine bleach. Actually I don't wash the bedclothes frequently. I squinch them in eighteen gallon Rubbermaid Roughtotes and wait until I am out of clean sheets. And towels. Which takes about three weeks. Then Myrtie and I celebrate ¡La Fiesta de la Lavadora de Maytag! And go to Taco Bell for bean burritos. ¡Olé!
That reminds me of the first song Spewgie and I wrote together. A samba / rumba number.
Spewgie's mother had left the ironing board and iron in the kitchen.
♪ ♫ Way down south
Where the bananas grow ♪
♫ Mary Proctor irons glow
Ay yi yi ♫
♪ Ay yi yi ♫ ♪
We must have been pretty little because I remember us providing percussion by dancing around like Carmen Miranda and scuffing the soles of our Dr Denton's in time to the music on the kitchen floor. And Spewgie's mother was like, "Girls! Go back to bed!"
Not a patroness of the arts.
Somewhere I got to wondering about getting queen-sized zippered pillow protecters and filling them with glass beads. I never knew weighted blankets were a thing. But I think the pillow would end up being fifty pounds.
The next step will be getting out the heavy down quilt. Currently with a white cotton flannel duvet cover.
3. What’s the latest you’ve gotten out of bed these last few months?
Some days I don't.
4. Have you had any pleasant or unpleasant dreams lately?
Very rarely remember my dreams.
Spewgie would talk about her dreams as we walked to school together. Sugarplums and fairies and riding a unicorn / Pegasus. I thought that I must not dream until years later when I fell asleep on a couch at the student union with my head in Spewgie's lap. She pried open one of my eyes and it was darting around wildly. REM stage so I must dream.
Sometimes I can see the future. I know something is going to happen. Repetitive dreams.
There used to be this thing called The Dream Registry. You have a dream, you write them a letter with the deets and they register it. A guy named Greybeard (this was before the internet and everyone had colorful or stupid nicks) had an unbelievable number of hits or correct dreams. One of them involved the crash of American Airlines Flight 191 on 1979 May 25 at O'Hare International Airport in Chicago.
Greybeard uncannily described and drew a diagram of the crazy angle and arc the plane took after takeoff and slammed into the ground. I read about it in a magazine when I was a little girl so some of it escapes me but I vividly recall his sense of anguish in having repetitive dreams and lucidly trying to read the plane's tail number to prevent a tragedy and his feelings of guilt when the accident occurred a day later. After sending in three letters on successive days to the registry. Before it happened.
For six months I have known there would be riots in my city. In my mind I could see the protesters by my house fighting police and the National Guard at the library and in the intersection and the military vehicles (armored vehicles I was unfamiliar with because I've driven a Humvee) pushing them back. Of course everyone thought I was crazy. It was maddening. Even the news media was complicit. Every day reporting a Wauwatosa police officer had murdered three men of color. And kept it up with the murder part. Pictures of the three murder victims. Day after day. But never anything about the victim being a sevebnteen-year-old who stold a semiautomatic handgun, took it to a mall, threatened shoppers and shot at police. But for four months no one reported the officer was black. Despite me telling them so. Our very own Common Council voted to immediately fire the racist officer. I finally contacted TMZ which is some kind of celebrity and Hollywood news source and The Wall Street Journal with a news tip. But it was too late. Everyone had the knee jerk reaction it must be a white officer because a black boy is dead so all the hatred was directed at my city and our police department.
Spewgie and I did not watch Super Bowl XXXII. We knew the Green Bay Packers would lose. That wasn't a dream or a premonition. There is a difference. It was Brett Favre's attitude. All petulant and sulky. My family and Spewgie's family were ready to watch the game; Spewgie and I saw Brett Favre acting up and we announced we weren't sticking around. And sure enough, they lost. Only Super Bowl within our lifetimes we haven't seen. That's why we hate Favre. He threw that game away. The Super Bowl. Same behavior he exhibited other times leading to Packer losses.
Well, as the billboards said as we were finally rid of the big crybaby, "Brent, we'll never forget you."
5. What helps you relax these days?
There are three things that are guaranteed to put me to sleep.
1. Sleeping with Spewgie. Not that way, perv. Since we were babies. We're closer than twins even though we're not sisters. I think it is her warmth and closeness and breathing. And hugging me like I'm a sock monkey.
2. Being at sea (although I wake up for my midnight snack at two o'clock in the morning. I bring Kewpie mayonnaise, bleu cheese dressing and Heinz 57 ketchup on vacation for my early morning room service chef's salad, club sandwich with french fries and choco cake — you know what they say — pre-breakfast is the most important meal of the day 'cause at six o'clock I gotta hit the shower so I'm ready for bagels and lox on the Lido deck and then dash off to the dining room for full English breakfast).
3. Slumber parties with my nieces and Spewgie Jr. We eat our pizzas, the girls gather all the blankets and pillows, make a nest on the floor, Spewgie puts Coraline in the DVD and I don't even make it through the opening credits.
In a world before coronavirus.
Daydreaming about food. Watching Yuka. Getting or making things I've always dreamt of: halo halo, Pompano en Papillote, Superman ice cream, KFC with caviar, Peking duck with the traditional pancakes, vegetables and sauce. Having friends download the Burger King app and order the $12.99 Family Bundle so I can pick it up in the drive through.
金曜五 and Friday 5 doubleheader!
Questions courtesy of 金曜五.
1. Whatcha been up to?
The past week has been very trying for Myrtle The Wonder Cat. Loud noises and chanting. She's never been affectionate except for a few headbutts at dodo time. Lately she's been very clingy. And vocal. I didn't know she could talk so much.
2. What's the latest from the front?
Wauwatosa alderperson and nitwit Heather Kuhl quit.
I would like to say her resignation was because of the months I spent writing against Heather but she shot herself in the foot. A local talk radio station posted links to Heather's "secret" Twitter account. Disgusting. And I do mean disgusting. As in there is something wrong with her.
With Heather you have to say to yourself, "What was she thinking?" Wearing a political t-shirt to her volunteer position assisting voters at the polls in spite of specifically being instructed not to do it. Making Wauwatosa a sanctuary city for illegal aliens. A sanctuary city for whom? Canadians wanting to escape low COVID-19 rates and an economy poised for 6% growth in 2021?
Heather tried to introduce citywide mandatory facemasks. But Wisconsin already had statewide mandatory facemasks in place. So yeah.
Then there was the ban on plastic drinking straws. I went to the Taco Bell recently to treat myself to the new dragonfruit slushie and bean burritos. As I placed the plastic cup in the drinkholder of my car, I remembered I'd forgotten to ask for a straw. Before I could make my request the nice young girl at the drive through window handed me a paper-wrapped straw.
Plastic.
Restaurants and fast food joints cannot give you a straw. Not plastic, anyhow. You have to ask. I have no idea how bars are doing mixed drinks. Two years ago, Hoffmaster (maker of disposable tableware) of Oshkosh (yes, where they made Oshkosh B'Gosh overalls), Wisconsin, bought out Aardvark Straws. The only American manufacturer of paper straws. And they make some kind of super paper straw that can withstand the rigors of hot coffee. Why am I not drinking with an Aardvark straw?
Then there was one that I didn't know about. Heather organized the council to have a stop sigh installed at an intersection described as "one of the busiest in Wauwatosa".
Please. A stop sign? The busiest intersection in Wauwatosa — or Wisconsin for that matter — is Bluemound Road and Mayfair Road.
Nothing special. Typical suburban intersection. It's the traffic volume.
I would like someone to point the Heather Kuhl Memorial Stop Sign out to me. But if that is what she wants on her résumé, whatevs.
Heather's most damning mistake involved Officer Mensah in the Alvin Cole shooting. She demanded he be fired immediately. Wauwatosa has to put our racist history behind us!
Except Officer Mensah and Alvin Cole are black. Heather didn't know that. She assumed the officer was white. There was no racism involved. Teenage boy stold a semiautomatic and a loaded illegal thirty-five round magazine, took it to the shopping mall, didn't drop the gun and shot at police. Office Mensah returned fire.
Heather helped establish and served on the Committee On Policing And Social Inequities and was photographed participating in the People's Revolution (the violent offbranch of BLM) caravans. Loud, late night tearing convoys through the neighborhoods. Heather is trying to intimidate the people she was elected to represent. "It's easier to replace broken windows than black lives." At no point did I think Heather came up with that beaut all by herself.
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
3. What's up?
Most of the businesses in my neighborhood boarded up their windows in preparation for the Milwaukee district attorney's announcement on whether charges would be issued against Officer Mensah and the report to the Wauwatosa Police And Fire Commission from special investigator, Steven M. Biskupic, former U.S. Attorney for the Eastern District of Wisconsin.
The few businesses that didn't had the windows smashed or suffered looting.
Ono Kine Grindz was the only one to paint "We Support BLM" on their boarded up storefront. No more Hawaiian delicatessen for me.
4. What's new?
The Green Bay Packers on a bye week.
This belongs more in the Celebrity Spotlight section of my blog. But I don't have Celebrity Spotlight.
Which dreamboat Green Bay signal-caller called it Quitsville with longtime gal pal DANICA PATRICK? This isn't the first time the former NASCAR racer has been left in the dust.
5. What's on the agenda?
The National Guard left. No curfew. Nowhere to go.
3. What’s your favorite film set in a non-U.S. city?
Aprx 00:08:40. The little boy has a note from his mother pinned to his back. "Please do not feed my little boy. He has an upset tummy."
Japanese mothers really do stuff like that.
The apron the mother wears is the kappogi. To protect the kimono. Bad girls wear western clothing. Good girls wear traditional clothing. And perfect women wear the kappogi. Sort of like bad guys wearing black cowboy hats and the good guys wearing white cowboy hats. Mother is perfect.
In real life, 小津 安二郎 / Yasujirō Ozu lived with his mother and is buried next to her. He is considered the most influential director. Invented many things we take for granted today: the tatami shot (the camera is placed near the tatami mats on the floor to the height of the actors), the conversational shot (the camera looks over the shoulder of the listener in a conversation, in an Ozu movie an actor might never make eye contact with a co-actor to successfully hit her marks) and the moving camera. The camera became part of the story, an omniscient narrator.
We might consider this movie quaint. In 1932, this was controversial commentary on contemporary Japanese life.
An unusual feature of this film is the number of intertitles. Meant to be shown without a benshi (narrator) and seiyuu (voice actors). The benshi tradition is hundreds of years old and comes to us from traditional theater and opera. The benshi and an orchestra (traditional instruments or jazz) would tour with the film and were as popular as the actors on screen. Typically only films for export had so many intertitles.
I seiyuued with my mother at a film festival; I never knew she was so funny.
The benshi is the reason silent film existed in Japan long after talkies. Nothing to do with lack of technology. More of a "Why fix it if it ain't broke?"
4. What’s your favorite film set before the 20th Century?
Beginning at 00:20:14. The Mortar. One of the funniest scenes in motion pictures.
Buster Keaton was known for doing his own stunts.
00:52.30. Marion Mack gets tsunamied. No one told her; it wasn't in the script. Marion did not do her own stunts.
5. What’s your favorite film set on a university campus?
