Author Archives: Ken Hansen

Two Weeks Off

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Dear Friends,

This is to inform you that Happy Friday!!! will not be installed next week or the week after. I’m taking a couple weeks off you see. And no it has nothing to do with Spring Break. I mean, who wants to walk around with a bunch of broken springs? My brand new 2001 Chrysler Town and Country has very creaky springs, but they are not broken. They just make noise. Because of this, I took it to my friendly neighborhood mechanic to have these noises checked out. He told me that for $800 I could have very quiet springs and shocks. He also told me that the old springs were not a safety hazard or anything, they just have the creakies.

They still have the creakies. I see no point in putting $800 into a very old car that will probably have something much more costly go wrong before all is said and done. My friendly neighborhood mechanic did offer two absolutely free solutions: 1) always choose smooth roads and R) turn the volume up on the radio. So I do at least one of those things every day and all is well.

So what does this have to do with the price of ballpoint pen refills? I have no idea. But circling back to the initial premise that there will be no Happy Friday!!! for two weeks, I hope all of you can forgive me but I just need to take a break. Maybe, for example, I’ll take my Beautiful Girlfriend on a road trip. She mentioned that it’s not wise to chronicle your trip with that social media BookFace thing; because “people come and rob your house when they know you’re gone.”

Well let’s put it this way: perhaps, just perhaps, we are going on a road trip. But if you are a thief, please don’t read this, or at least forget you ever saw it. Please do that right now. Also, if you are a thief (or are fixin’ to tell a friend or relative who is a thief) please be aware that I will be employing various security measures while we are gone.

For example, we have our friend Freddy the Freeloader. He is a cat. A VERY BIG cat. I’ve been subliminally conditioning him for months now. Whenever he greets me at the bottom of our deck when I get home from work, which is pretty much every day, I look into his beautiful yellow-green eyes and say, “Fred, remember to use your razor sharp toenails on the strangers at all times.” I figure his razornails are the best weapon, because he lost one of his canine teeth before he came to live with us so he doesn’t have a full compliment of tooth ouchers. Oh but my oh my his claws work very well!! I’m confident he won’t let me down. He’s a black cat, so he can be very stealthy in many Cat Ninja slashy ouchy maneuvers.

Also, I’ve finally perfected my themo-electronic 9 dimensional force field. It surrounds the house and garage, and also the outbuildings. Pretty gruesome… whenever someone tries to pass through the thermo-electronic barrier, they get a severe hankering for Speedway hotdogs. It’s not unusual for someone to slide a finger (or even the tip of their nose) into the force field, then abruptly dash for the nearest Speedway gas station. For some reason, once they walk in the door they are compelled to eat ALL the hotdogs on those greasy little roller thingies. Even the ones that have turned a very dark color and are all wrinkly!! The result of this compulsion is, of course, projectile vomiting. In the store. In front of God and everybody. They they completely forget they were going to rob me.

Thirdly, our son will be watching over the place; and you know what that means, right? Yep, he’s very adept at smearing the outer door handles with fresh Tootsie Rolls that are found in Freddy the Freeloader’s litter box. Very special gloves are required to prevent becoming infected with PooperOhNo; a quickly spreading disease that causes facial features to be almost instantly rearranged. You like having one eye under your chin and your nose sticking out the side of your cheek?? Well by all means, c’mon over and grab a door handle!!

OK, so I’m gonna take a break from Happy Friday!!! for two weeks. Maybe we go away, maybe we don’t… we’re gonna keep you guessing.

So there.

Peace, Love, and Don’t Even Think About It,

Kenny “I’mSoTired” Fluffnozzle

“And now,” as Mr. Cleese used to say, “for something completely different.”

Paddy Not Patty

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Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone. I say that to those who love the holiday; but for me it’s a bit tongue-in-cheek. That’s because even though I’m a wee bit Irish; I’m ½ Norwegian. And there’s that documentary I saw on PBS awhile back that illustrated the history behind the red hair and freckles with which many Irish folks are born. It’s from those naughty Vikings, you see. It’s possible that my Norwegian (Viking) ancestors raped and pillaged my Irish ancestors; thereby scattering their red haired, freckled, Viking genes hither and yon. The thought of all that has really taken the wind out of any sails I may have unfurled on the Good Ship St. Paddy’s Day.

Ha ha, I almost said “… the red hair and freckles that many Irish folks are born with.” I actually typed it that way initially. I fixed it though, because just like this St. Paddy’s day stuff I’ve been seeing lately, I’ve learned that type of word usage just plain ain’t correct: a preposition is a word you are not supposed to end a sentence with. Ha ha, I did it just now, because I wanted to, and if you don’t like it please take an eraser to your screen and see if you can fix that for me please; be careful you don’t harm your screen though; and you know what… I think this may be the first run-on sentence I’ve written in awhile and yes I’m fully aware that I bend the grammar and punctuation rules when I do it; but I’m also pretty darn SURE it’s the first one I’ve ever written in italics with a sprinkling of bold; but I have yet to write any portion of a run-on sentence in bold, italic, and underlined text; at least until today.

So there I was, 10,000 feet in the air, no plane, no parachute, just floating about and when I came back down I noticed a sign that said, “St. Paddy’s Day…” something or other. Not sure what else it said besides the “St. Paddy’s Day,” but that part stuck in my headbone. So then I took my headbone to the Google Place and plunked in “St. Paddy’s Day.” And you know what I found?? The Irish very much dislike the use of “St. Patty’s Day.”

What… youse don’t believe me? Really!! I’m telling you, it’s supposed to be written “St. Paddy’s Day.” I never knew. So you say you’ve seen “St. Patty’s Day” with your own eyes?? Well, as the great Chico Marx once proclaimed, “who you gonna believe, me or your own eyes??” So like, if youse kids don’t believe me, hopefully you will believe the Irish. They tell us yankees all about it right here:

http://paddynotpatty.com/

So there, nyaa nyaa na boo boo!! OK so like I was saying earlier… I honor the honoring (can you honor someone’s honoring?? I just don’t know) of March 17, which I just read is the traditional date of death of Ireland’s patron saint somewhere around the year 461. From what I’ve read, it started out as a feast with lots of spiritual significance, but these days many folks seem to use it as a great excuse to party. Big business you know. Couple weeks before there are lots of green beads, hats, and all kinds of trinkets to wear or hang on your body. And this year it’s happening on a Friday; so I’m guessing there will be some Holy Mackerel Headaches tomorrow with folks being a little green around the gills without the aid of any Irish green adornments on their bodies.

My Beautiful Girlfriend and I have been “celebrating” with Reuben sandwiches for the last several years. We rarely eat corned beef; which is a very good thing when you consider all the chemicals in that stuff. But once in awhile a Reuben really calls my Honey Pie’s name… so I play along. Not my favorite, to be honest. Today ours came from a local haunt called Mango’s; which we thought we’d try for a change. Usually they are known for pretty good grub. They failed the Reuben test though, and as we were a few bites into our sandwiches both of us found ourselves wishing we had stuck with Arby’s. Is that weird or what?? Never thought I’d prefer a product from a fast food joint over a local joint. Arby’s would have been WAY cheaper too. Oh well. Supported our local economy.

Well enough rambling. Hope all of you had a Happy St. Paddy’s Day; assuming of course you wanted one. We were happy to stay home and chill.

Speaking of Chico Marx… Say huh?? Yes, remember I mentioned “the great Chico Marx” back there? Well here’s one of my favorite Marx Brothers routines from their movie “Duck Soup.” Absolutely nothing to do with St. Paddy’s day, but there’s that totally cool remark:

“Who you gonna believe, me or your own eyes??”

And of course what followed was the famous “Mirror Scene.”

Ready, Set… PIZZA!!!

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Ahhh Friday… my favorite workday of the week. That is, of course, when I have both Saturday and Sunday off; which is most of the time. This Friday is a little different though, because my Beautiful Girlfriend went off with her Beautiful Friends to a (Beautiful) Women’s Retreat over in Newaygo Town.

“I’m a bachelor this weekend,” I my friends at work. Russ and Breck’s eyes both lit up and they quizzed me: “Really?? What’re you gonna do??” “I’m gonna eat massive amounts of cholesterol!!” I exclaimed with a big grin. Then I described the pizza I was lusting to make for dinner.

I didn’t bore everyone with the details, but I thought I’d put them here for your enjoyment.

Delicious Easy Pizza Method

1 – Boboli pizza crust… before I put it on a pizza pan I sprinkle a little corn meal to coat the pan sparingly but evenly. Keeps the pizza crust from sticking to the pan you see… Then put the crust on the pan and add, in order, the following:

a few sprinkles of coarse garlic powder

a few sprinkles of oregano

1 – 4 oz. jar of Classico pizza sauce (one jar is more than enough… had a little left over)

4 oz. of fresh sliced mushrooms, broken into small hunks

Fresh mild Italian sausage, cooked ahead of time over the wood fire (we have a fireplace)

½ green pepper, diced

1 small yellow onion, diced

4 oz. (or so) of black olives, crumbled (I take whole, pitted olives and smoosh them up with my fingers)

Premium pepperoni yummy slices, diced; sprinkled over the entire pie.

Sprinkle a smidge over 1 oz. shredded parmesan cheese

Sprinkle about 6 oz. shredded mozzarella cheese

Directions on the Boboli crust package say to preheat the oven to 450 but I’m a rebel.  I preheated the oven to 350, then goosed it to 425 when I put the pie in there.  Cooked for about 10 minutes and turned the heat off. After the cheese melted and started to tan; I let it set for a couple more minutes then took it out and sliced it up; at which point I grabbed a hunk and proceeded to stuff my face. Total time from beginning to end was almost an hour, but oh my it was certainly worth it.

Then back in the warm oven it goes with the heat off so the flavors can mingle a little longer. I may accidentally have some more later.

Oh yes my friends, I’m in party mode tonight. Oh and I accidentally snarfed a bag of Cheetos while waiting for the pizza to cook. Oh yeah, I almost forgot the Cherry Coke I discovered at the gas station they let me buy with the Cheetos and the Reese’s crunchy chocolate bar thing and Peanut M&Ms (those are for a friend at work, I promise) (unless I eat them) (I’m not sure).

I’ve been having a grand old time burping loudly and not even saying “excuse me!” Later on, I might even treat myself to a Marx Brothers movie!! And why not, my Beautiful Girlfriend and her Beautiful Friends are about 28 miles away and they can’t stop me!! Nyaa nyaa na boo boo!!

This kind of partying is far superior to the kind I once… um.. enjoyed? I say, “enjoyed?” with a question mark because there were all too many times I was ingesting intoxicants under the premise of having fun, when in fact I was really harming myself. So all that youthful partying began with fun, then fun became mixed with poor choices; which of course produced problems.  The last portion of my journey into mind altered oblivion transformed into even worse choices; so that part of the ride was anything but fun. I truthfully do NOT miss those times. Life is very good these days, so my cholesterol party is more than enough enjoyment for me.

Looks like I have a couple days worth of pizza; and I’m not complaining! Holy Cholesterol, Batman!!

Several rock stars have had a similar partying journey, many are dead. Most of the ones who survived, however, have changed their ways; and one guy by the name of Richard Starkey is a favorite of mine. His stage name is Ringo Starr, and he had some fun with part of his story in a catchy little tune known as “The No No Song.”

Don’t Bee A Robot

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Ever have a time when you think you’ve heard everything, then another weird announcement buzzes about on the news and the interwebs? A very sad announcement that came out recently was the addition of the rusty-patched bumblebee to the endangered species list. Unfortunately, climate change, the widespread use of pesticides, herbicides, and destruction of habitat does not exactly render this announcement as mysterious.

One of the weirdest follow-ups to the endangered bee story was the proposal to use robotic “bees” to aid in pollination of crops. I’m not kidding about this; there are actual efforts in progress to perfect a robotic bee!! This announcement made me even more sad than the prospective loss of bee populations. While some might find robo-bees to be a fascinating credit to modern science, my strong belief is that such inventions do much more harm than good to our environment as a whole.

Human nature, it seems, is always looking for a magical way out of difficult and complex problems. I’d much rather hear more information about how to save our bees; not replace them with machines. After all, our bees, along with many other species, are endangered because of the poisoning of our planet. All the man-made materials used to make robo-bees and other drone type flying machines are produced at no small cost to the environment.

One report I read speaks about using robo-bees in conjunction with real bees to achieve better coverage of crops needing pollination. Seems to me these “geniuses” are missing something very important: robo-bees have tiny propellers. What happens when they collide with a real bee? I’m guessing the bee loses a leg or two, or three, or an eye, or… well you see what I mean. So, we’re already losing bees to other environmental stressors, and now we have scientists who want to surround them with tiny little helicopters?? Oy yoy yoy.

Thankfully, when people learn that bumblebees are endangered, lots of folks want to know what to do to save them. At least, I sure hope they do. My Beautiful Girlfriend and I have been raising food organically for going over 40 years; so many of the techniques are second nature to us.

Here are some simple things everyone can do to help bees thrive:

  1. Buy organically grown produce whenever possible. This ensures that pesticides and / or herbicides were not part of the farming process. In the past, organic fruits and vegetables were an anomaly at the stores, now they’re very commonplace and price competitive. That’s because normal folk became interested in knowing how their food was grown.
  2. Plant wildflowers and / or flowering trees. Simple, right? Seriously, plant flowers, especially away from where you’re going to mow. Everyone knows that will help the bees. Try to be especially sensitive to the fact that bees need to feed all season long; so different types of flowers can be selected to ensure there is food available during the entire feeding season.
  3. Weeds can be very beneficial. Say what?? That’s right… a lawn full of dandelions or clover is a veritable buffet for bees. Many other, taller growing weeds have flowers that bees depend on (please refer back to item # 2).
  4. Do not use pesticides or herbicides in your garden or lawn. These are poison to many forms of life, of which bees are a small group. Too much of the public has been bombarded with chemical solutions for pest and weed management. Speaking from a gardener’s perspective, I would rather see a crop fail than to use poisons to control pests. However, by learning techniques like companion planting and crop rotation, I’ve been blessed with many beautiful harvests of all sorts of vegetables.
  5. Work to preserve habitats. You know that old hollow tree out back? Should have been cut down years ago, yes? Well maybe not: hollow trees provide shelter for bees and other pollinators. Bumblebees will burrow into the ground, so if there are any mounds or abandoned burrows from rabbits, etc., pay attention; the bees may be nesting there.

Long story longer, if we just take a little more time learning about what Mother Nature needs from us, we can help her stay healthy. And if our Mother Earth is healthy, there will be no need for robo-bees. So please, don’t bee a robot. Don’t assume that pesticides and herbicides are safe. If you don’t grow your own, learn where your food comes from and how it is grown. And by all means, let your representatives know your concerns about keeping our environment clean and healthy for all creatures.

Sorry, science kids, robo-bees are not natural!!

Maybe if all bees could be like the one who stood up to Donald Duck; they’d have a fighting chance…

I’m Just A GPSter

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Many moons ago, before the rock stars died, there lived a Tyrannosaurus Rex that played Jeepster. And they rocked the house many times, and it was pretty darn good. And yes, maybe I’m speaking in code, but those of you who grew up when I did may actually know that all that means.

The T.Rex performances were in the 1970s, when technology was a bit different than today.  For example, when people wanted to go somewhere they used a very strange method: they used maps.

Now we have GPS units readily available and pretty inexpensive, too. More and more people are abandoning maps (and lots of other non-electronic things) for computerized toys. I’m beginning to wonder if the ability to read a map is slowly becoming a lost art.

Mind you, I am a self confessed road atlas addict. Ever since I’ve owned a car, I’ve made really sure there was a Rand McNally Road Atlas stashed in it somewhere. I mean hey kids, I don’t really care what language your GPS unit will use to tell you what turn to take. Maps are the cat’s meow in my universe. As I’ve gotten older I even have extended my map collection to a Michigan County Maps atlas. Now that’s livin’ large in my world.

Friends are often surprised to learn that I have absolutely no desire to get a GPS for my car; especially since I commute 56 miles one way to work. They figure such a device could come in handy when the snows or an accident bring traffic to a crawl and I seek an alternate route. And since they know I work in computer support, they are often baffled by my lack of interest in the latest cool electronic doohickey.

Well yes, I work in the computer field, but although technology provides me with a pretty good living; gadgets have ceased to amaze me. Don’t get me wrong, I think toys can be cool. I just don’t need any more junk. I’m guilty of owning plenty of stuff that’s not exactly eco-friendly: televisions, a computer, cell phone, etc. Don’t kid yourselves folks, none of these devices are completely recyclable. Some of it simply cannot be reused. So, my philosophy is to buy the best quality stuff I can so it will last lots of years. Conversely, my philosophy is NOT to buy stuff that will become obsolete quickly.

As far as the GPS stuff goes, my lovely girlfriend and I actually enjoy taking a wrong turn every now and again. Brings a little adventure into our lives; and helps us hone our map reading skills. OK I admit I did ask for a GPS for Christmas one year; but it’s the kind that will never need batteries. It sat on top of the dashboard of my 2003 Toyota Corolla and gave me a general idea which way I was headed. You may have seen one before, here’s a picture of mine:

As you may have guessed, this particular GPS is also called a compass. Some of you may say, “umm… Ken, that’s not a GPS.” Well of course it is; my friend Dave at work told me so. When I was joking about “my new GPS” after Santa brought it to me, he said, “well yeah… it’s a General Pointing System!”

Came in very handy; especially when I got stuck in traffic. If I was on my way home from where I worked in Grand Rapids (Michigan), and ran into some heavy traffic, I’d just zig and zag through the back roads until the car was pointed west. Pretty hard to go too far west here in Michigan unless you have an amphibious car. So even if I’m totally confused; as long as I can get to the Lake Michigan shoreline I can find my way home from there. These days, our son has the Toyota and I drive a brand new 2001 Chrysler Town & Country. It also has a GPS compass thing, but it’s an actual digital readout!! Much easier to read when it’s dark!!

Even though I like to take alternate routes; I stay on the roads; unlike some of my Jeepster owning friends. I don’t really like the practice, but a few of my friends have Jeeps or maybe Toyota Land Cruisers that will go places where my car would never be able to visit. So I’m a Jeepster of a different kind… a GPSter. I’ll still pronounce it “Jeepster” though, because I love the song.  I even sing it to my Beautiful Girlfriend every now and again.

Which song?? Remember that Tyrannosaurus Rex I mentioned at the beginning of this silly story?

This song:

Grateful While Screaming

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Once upon a time we inherited a duplex which was a million percent awesome because our son was down on his luck and needed a place to stay and God Bless The Renters who pay enough for us to be able to afford taxes and insurance on the place but not much else because you see we hate being landlords so we keep the rent low but always seem to find someone who stays for more than 3 days and doesn’t write satanic messages on the walls with dog poop or try to rewire the washing machine to play CDs and even though it’s a bit of a pain at times we would hate to see our son live in some garbage dump somewhere and Holy Moly this one one long sentence which could have been summed up in just 3 words:

We Are Grateful.

So there I was, minding my own business, when I get a text from our tenant, “we have no heat.” Well that meant a call to the Heater Fixers and a nice guy came out and learned that a circuit board was no good and he said “oh hey there’s 2 inches of water down there in the crawlspace… I have to order the circuit board but we need that water removed before we can come out to fix it;” so I cried and rolled on the floor and thrashed about because what the HECK am I supposed to do so we called ServPro to come clean up the mess and then I canceled because I thought “oh jeez, we clean up water in our swamp house almost every spring, this is no big deal;” but then my Beautiful Girlfriend and I went to clean up the mess with our meager floor pump and shop vac and discovered HOLY MOOPFLAYBEN WE DON’T HAVE ANYWHERE NEAR ENOUGH HOSE AND STUFF FOR THIS so I called ServPro back and they said yes they could come and they arrived quickly and it didn’t break the bank (too badly) and this is yet another run-on sentence that could again be summed up in 3 more words:

We Are Fortunate.

OK. The water issue is taken care of so the heater guy doesn’t have to do the Jingle Jangle Dance while working with electricity in a soggy place and I called the Heater Fixers back and and and (3 ands to illustrate exasperation) they said, “oh, it’s too late in the day so we’ll have to send someone first thing in the morning” and then I said thank you and hung up and cried thrashed about and rolled on the floor because HOLY BEEPDOODLE IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE 14 DEGREES TOMORROW CAN’T THEY PLEASE COME OH JEEZ OH GOD OH NO and then I went home and got a box fan and crawled into the crawlspace (it’s for crawling!) to try to dry the floor a little more and then I told the tenant “Well sorry the Heater Fixer Guy won’t be back till tomorrow morning” and then as I started out the driveway here comes the Heater Fixer Guy and I clasped my hands together in a reverent manner and bowed several times and he said “ya, everyone does that till they see the bill” and this is again once more a very VERY long sentence that could also be shortened into 3 words:

We Are Blessed.

Long story longer, we help with the water; and we got the heat fixed. Someone Upstairs was helping us, of this I have no doubt. Even though I screamed and cried and rolled about on the floor, I was able to maintain a small amount of gratitude each time the tides turned a bit. Then of course a huge basket full of gratitude flowed out of my heart after all was said and done. And those, my friends, are four regular sentences that can be expressed in 5 words:

Thank You God (whoever They are) For Everything. Well, OK 8 words if you count the ones in parentheses.

THE END

And now, as Mr. Cleese used to say, for something completely different… kinda.

Thank You Siri; Please Forgive Me!!

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So there I was, 36,000 feet in the air, inside a plane, with no parachute, on my way to Allentown, Pennsylvania, traveling for work, and now I’m making a sentence that’s not only way too long but also has too many participles and perhaps even gerunds (gerunds??); and of course I kept maps that I printed from the Googling of Directions, which is probably not really a proper thing but lots of people say it, and although I had all these printed maps with directions they were of little use to me because I didn’t memorize them and so I cried out for Siri.

It was already dark outside when I finally got to the rental car. Even though I had printed directions with maps; it would have been rather difficult at best to follow them without having an accident. I needed help fast, so with blind faith I started talking to Siri.

“Siri,” I said to my iPhone thing, “I need directions to 4100 West Rock Road.” Being the obedient techno-servant that she is, Siri commenced to getting the directions. All I had to do was press the green “Go” button on the phone (while parked of course) (I’m too young to die) and she started telling me where to go. It was the first time I ever tried it, and it only happened because I saw people on the Television Thing talk to their iPhone things in a similar manner. So God bless her, Siri started telling me where to go with step by step instructions. I’m sort of used to having people tell me where to go, so this wasn’t difficult (ha ha, I make joking there).

For the most part, she did a wonderful job!! Although there were three small drawbacks: 1) Siri’s activity was very demanding of my phone’s battery power, L) once she tried to take me to a place that wasn’t there (invisible maybe?), and $) there was one instance where she wanted to drag me where I didn’t want to go. I can understand the drain on the battery; I’m sure a lot is going on in the iPhone Computer Brain Thing so that consumes energy. However, there was one instance in the wee hours of yesterday morning when I was on my way back to the airport. Siri was rattling off directions as I drove through all the serpentine, hilly back roads of the Pennsylvania countryside. We came to an area where she blurted out, “turn left on Penn Avenue.” I saw no Penn Avenue. She said it again, but she didn’t realize I’m not much of a morning person; especially at 3:45 AM. I scolded her thusly: “there’s no Penn Avenue you stupid farblejink!!” Well, OK, I may have really called her a different name using vernacular that refers to a female dog.

Then she wanted me to take a route to the airport that I knew involved a toll road. “No thank you,” I snarled, and I stayed on I-78 a bit longer. In spite of my rudeness she simply adjusted the route and told me where to go again, this time with a route that had no tolls. Such a nice robot lady!!

My professional path has brought me into a job in computer support; so one would think I would have abandoned printed maps long ago. Well although I’m very grateful to Siri for preventing me from getting lost in a strange land, when I travel for fun my navigation is much more primitive. I often use a combination of printed maps, a Rand McNally Road Atlas, and the compass in my car. Sure, Siri makes getting from point A to point B pretty easy… I didn’t really have to think. The only drawback is that I didn’t really learn the lay of the land. I merely learned how to get to places by following orders.

Well speaking of taking orders, I bet Santa is working overtime trying to get HIS orders filled…

My 2016 Holiday Requirements

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Dear Beautiful Ones,

Some of you remember that around this time of year, I carefully urge everyone who might read this to drop whatever it is they are doing and run (and I do mean run) (no cars, that’s cheating) down to the nearest Holy Mackerel This Is Expensive Junk store and fulfill my annual need for material goods that either enhance my quality of life or are merely amusing or perhaps just delicious and please believe me, this sentence is not only way too long but I’m using all these extra words to let you all know just how serious this really is.

Really.

Those who know me understand that I’m an old tree-hugger peacenik hippie kind of guy who really has been “blessed” (too much stuff is not necessarily a blessing) with more stuff than I’ll ever really need. However, I am a spoiled rotten American, which means that Greed is my middle name and I have every right to insist that I get what I deserve. Therefore, in the spirit of all the Holiday Commercials That Are Trying To Sell Us Even More Stuff Than Any Of Us Will Ever Need, I hereby lay down my list of Holiday Requirements for 2016.

M) This one is very simple: please have Santa come every day and top off my gas tank on our minivan. I know that sometimes this is inconvenient; but that doesn’t matter. I have important places to go, you see.

x9) Please stop squeaking that silly dog toy. The dog is sleeping anyway and all you’re doing is trying to wake up the baby. Don’t you understand that I already had the chicken pops? Would you like a hot chocolate?

R4) I really need a new Happy Barber Poultry Styling Kit. I’ve been practicing the art of making really cool, fashionable, and yes, noise reducing Chicken and Turkey Haircuts. I call them haircuts because if I start saying anything about feather cuts (which is what really would be cut), they start running through my house and hiding all the remote controls. Not very often I get the chance to do some feather styling, but just in case I need to be prepared.

GL12) Before Jangulary 75th please get one of those cardboard Interstellar Mailing Tube things. I hope to send more messages to my friends in the Skoldern Galaxy, Sector 23 VX but I’ll need a much larger sling shot this year for launching the aforementioned Intergalactic Sailing Lube things. Nobody can really do much Interstellar Mailing without Intergalactic Sailing Lube, now can they??

Y5) I need a new app that will hasten my retirement while building my savings to an enormous level. Once my retirement begins, this app will slow the days down so they last much longer. I’m pretty sure someone is working on this in either Saskatchewan or perhaps Bermuda. Make sure they send me the evaluation copy with a lifetime free trial.

And finally,

*^%) I can’t seem to get my cat to have dinner ready for us when we get home from a hard day at the Doorknob Mines. Doesn’t he know that our meager $.17 / hr. is what’s bringing home the cardboard disguised as bacon? The least he could do for us is try to at least get some take out at the local Skoldern Galaxy Surprise Buffet or something. Sheesh!!

OK. That’s enough Material Madness from the likes of me. Just please make sure it all happens; because what I really want is that all of you and yours have a Happy Merry and a Joyful Wonderful, and that you forget to sneeze in each others’ eggnog while zipping happily through the forest on the brand new, diesel / solar powered cyber rocket that I’m pretty sure you bought for me already.

You’re so nice!!

Maus In Da Haus… Again!!

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Hope all of you had your fill of turkey (or whatever you fill your tummy with on Thanksgiving) this past weekend. For the last several years we’ve enjoyed our Dear Friend Ruthie’s cooking, complete with F.N. Brussels sprouts. Didn’t get those last year, so this time around my Beautiful Girlfriend made it a point to put her dibs in for F.N. Brussels sprouts. Tradition is important you know!

Before Lew, Ruthie’s hubby, passed away, Thanksgiving would migrate depending on whose turn it was. I’d cook one year, then Ruthie the next, and so on. The last year Lew was alive, he noticed I had a pot with Brussels sprouts on the stove. “Ken,” he said, “I see you’re making Brussels sprouts.” “Yes, “ I replied, “you like Brussels sprouts, Lew??” “F*@# NO!!” he exclaimed, at which point all of us laughed very bigly. So ever since that day, we celebrate Thanksgiving at our Dear Friend Ruthie’s house, and every year (except last year) she made some sort of dish with Brussels sprouts. Because her grandkids would often come to dinner, they became known as F.N. Brussels sprouts. We don’t want to pollute the little ones any sooner than life will!!

So because we really love turkey, I cook up a “Thanksgiving” dinner a few days later. Our son, our daughter, son in law, and their two boys help us devour a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. This has become a tradition that includes putting up the Christmas tree. I love to cook, and I also love to grow good things to eat. So this year, instead of regular mashed potatoes, I’m making Maus (pronounced “mouse”). And since I like to be different, this year’s Maus will be blue. It can’t be helped, you see… I grew Adirondack Blue potatoes; and they are blue inside and out! Not sure, but I have a feeling Mrs. Spoelma might get a kick out of blue Maus.

God bless Mrs. Spoelma, the “Hollander” (Michigan term for Dutch) lady who lived next door to us when we first moved to Muskegon. She and her husband were often outside in the yard, and we’d have many a conversation across the fence. That was 39 years ago (wow!!), and one couldn’t ask for nicer neighbors.

When our daughter came into the world, she started bringing us food. Most often, she brought an odd mashed potato dish we’d never had before. “This is Maus,” she said when she brought over the first batch. “It’s an old family recipe: mashed potatoes, kale, and barley. Oh and a little bit of onion, too.” It was simply wonderful. Perfect food for a couple of tree huggers with a brand new baby. Free food is always pretty doggoned perfect if you ask me; especially when it’s delicious. “Maus” is not merely wonderful as a side dish for meat and another vegetable, maybe even some gravy. It is especially yummy the following day, reheated with an over easy egg or two on top. MMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

When I first wrote about Maus a few years ago I scoured the web for a recipe that resembled this remarkable dish. No such luck. After many variations of the words potato, mashed, kale, barley, and Dutch, I found several interesting cooking ideas but nothing that resembled what our dear Mrs. Spoelma made. After a little trial and error, I think I’ve been able to replicate the flavor pretty closely.

Because it’s so doggoned yummy, I feel it’s my duty to share the basics with you. I love to cook but I rarely follow any recipe exactly. Mouse is no exception; but without further ado here is a rudimentary description. Try this and alter the quantities of barley, kale, and onions to your liking next time.

Maus: Delicious Mashed Potatoes, Kale, Barley and Onion

Ingredients:

Potatoes : enough to fill a 6 quart pot a bit more than halfway when diced

Barley: ½ cup hulled barley (pearled barley is OK but not as nutritious as hulled)

Kale: 3 – 4 tightly packed cups, chopped

Onions: one large onion or 4 or 5 small onions, diced

½ stick of salted butter

½ cup of milk

salt to taste

Potatoes, barley, and kale will be cooked in separate pots.

Add more than enough water to the barley to cover, at least 2 inches higher than the barley. Boil the barley until tender, then drain, cover and set aside.

Add 1 cup water to the kale, and cover. Bring to boil, remove from heat after 2 or 3 minutes boiling. Toss the onions in with the kale and cover again, let that sit for about 5 minutes. The heat will cook the onions just enough. Drain, then set aside.

Wash and dice enough potatoes to fill a 6 quart pot a bit more than half way (we leave the skins on). Fill with water till the potatoes are barely covered, and boil until tender, drain. Add butter and mash, adding milk and a dash or so of salt along the way. When the potatoes are creamy, add barley, kale and onions to the potatoes and mash together until mixed thoroughly. OK, you’re done! Now, don’t just stand there, it’s time to eat!!

By the way, this has nothing to do with Mouseketeers…

Cubs Win!! A Very Welcome Distraction.

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Those who know me well are very aware I’m not a sports guy. Never really got into sports when I was a kid… although I did play in Little League for awhile. I wasn’t very good; but I enjoyed it nonetheless. When high school years arrived, I became something of a nerd who was much more interested in getting the grades than in anything sports related.

When the TV is on at our house, it’s almost never because of a sporting event. The only football game we ever see is the Super Bowl; and much of that is because of the commercials and the half time show. My wife and both root for the underdogs, but often we’ll just turn off the game after half time.

Baseball is a bit different; for me anyway. Perhaps that’s because I can actually understand the game. Not much in a baseball game that leaves me puzzled. Football puzzles me from the git-go; because I can’t for the life of me see any sense in running out on a field with the knowledge that someone seeks to drive your nose into the dirt before the game’s over. Pretty violent stuff. No thanks.  To top it off, there are all these flags the referees toss into the field for no apparent reason. I have no idea…

My lack of interest in sports was put on hold this week because of the Chicago Cubs. Those poor fellers have had a very long streak of tough luck. Unless you live in a cave somewhere with no human contact; it’s likely you know they won the World Series after a 108 year dry spell. Pretty darn cool!!

I actually watched most of the games. Even shouted at the players a few times, sometimes with joy and sometimes with annoyance. My Beautiful Girlfriend watched some of the action along with me, but she was pretty bushwhacked after working this past Wednesday; so I turned off the TV and went upstairs to listen to the game on the radio. Rain delayed the game for a bit; and it was past my bed time so I hit the hay with headphones on so I wouldn’t wake up my Honey Pie. When the 10th inning got underway, my Baby started to stir so I asked permission to turn the TV back on to watch the last few minutes. “Honey, can I turn it back on?? I wanna see this!!” “Sure,” she murmured.

Such joy!! Such history!! And such a welcome distraction!! With all the horrible things making headlines and all the election garbage in the media, this was very good medicine. Being the prehistoric relic I am; I still like to listen to AM radio while bopping about in the car. Often I’m tuned into 720 WGN out of Chicago in the morning on the way to work. Until this past Wednesday, the elections have pretty much monopolized the topics of any given day. Since the Cubbies won, though, very little else was being mentioned (thank God!!). This morning, host Steve Cochran asked one of the insiders if there was to be a ticker tape parade for the Cubs today. The answer was yes; then Steve went on to make note that there are no longer any stock tickers in operation these days. The name “ticker tape parade” was quickly reaffirmed though, because “…it sounds much better than a paper parade.”

So Chicago is on fire tonight; but it’s not the destructive kind. They had their ticker tape parade and all the speeches and comradery that goes with such a monumental event. The fires of Love and Happiness are burning brightly in Chi-town as well as much of the rest of the country. So if you’re itching for some good news; tune in just about any Chicago TV or radio station and enjoy the buzz while it lasts.

Can you believe it?? The Cubs won the World Series!!

Grandma Loftus used to sing this one… can’t help but love it…