My friend Kim recently did a blog post in which she compiled a playlist in which she tried to have artists for each letter of the alphabet. (She was missing only "X" and "Z".)
I decided to do something similar. By an large, I listened to only one song/piece per artist/composer. Also, I used artist in the case of pop or jazz and composer in the case of classical music.
I am missing FOUR letters: N, U, X, and Y. The N makes me crazy - such a weird letter to be missing, but I'm pretty sure. I almost downloaded some Yes the night I compiled this, but decided not to cheat.
(The rumor that I called Palestrina an "obnoxious brat" when his music started coming out is vicious and unfounded. I thought he was a pretty nice kid.)
America: A Horse With No Name (Remastered Version)
Brahms, Johannes: A German Requiem (7 movements)
Copland, Aaron: Fanfare for the Common Man
Dave Brubeck Quartet: Take Five
Enya: Caribbean Blue
Dave Frishberg: My Attorney Bernie
Gershwin, George: Rhapsody In Blue
Heart: Rock and Roll (Live)
Iron Butterfly: In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida
Elton John: Bennie and the Jets
Mark Knopfler and Chet Atkins: There'll Be Some Changes Made
Led Zeppelin: Black Dog
The Manhattan Transfer: Operator
Oldfield, Mike: Tubular Bells 2003 (17 sections)
Palestrina, Giovanni: Missa pro Defunctis (5 movements)
Queen & David Bowie: Under Pressure
Joaquín Rodrigo: Concierto de Aranjuez (3 sections)
Sibelius, Jean: Finlandia, Op. 26
Traffic: The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys
The Ventures: Hawaii Five-O (theme from original TV series)
Williams, Ralph Vaughan: Fantasia On Greensleeves
ZZ Top: Cheap Sunglasses (Remastered Live Version)
Monday, February 07, 2011
Sunday, February 06, 2011
Close the Locker Room Door, Please!
Since this is Superbowl Sunday, it seems like a good time to take a stand regarding the information the media gives us about athletes:
There's altogether too much of it. Way, way, to much.
I like sports. Actually, I don't watch a lot of games, let alone actually go to them, but I listen to lots and lots of sports radio. And I'm tired of trying to decide if I can cheer for an athlete that's been shown to be a thug, or abusive to his family, or to have children by a dozen different women. Sports are one of my HOBBIES, darn it, and I don't need them to be awash in moral ambiguity.
I don't have to worry about this with the other people I appreciate. Nobody's gonna interfere with my appreciation of my florist by telling me that she's a kleptomaniac. Even if the butcher I like gets arrested for embezzling porterhouses in order to support his crystal meth habit, I'm unlikely to ever hear about it: there'll just be somebody else working there the next time I'm in.
It's pretty apparent that a pro (or major college) locker room is not an environment where I'd feel comfortable. So, I don't make any effort to spend any time there. I leave that door closed, and wish the press would, too.
I only want the good news. Does the quarterback go to visit sick kids? I'd love to hear about it. Does he stop at a strip club on the way home from the hospital? I don't want to know.
Yeah, I know: this horse has left the barn a long time ago. I'm not gonna get what I want. Anything these guys do that's bad - or can be painted to look that way - I'm gonna have to hear about it if I want to listen to any sports at all.
But I don't have to like it!
There's altogether too much of it. Way, way, to much.
I like sports. Actually, I don't watch a lot of games, let alone actually go to them, but I listen to lots and lots of sports radio. And I'm tired of trying to decide if I can cheer for an athlete that's been shown to be a thug, or abusive to his family, or to have children by a dozen different women. Sports are one of my HOBBIES, darn it, and I don't need them to be awash in moral ambiguity.
I don't have to worry about this with the other people I appreciate. Nobody's gonna interfere with my appreciation of my florist by telling me that she's a kleptomaniac. Even if the butcher I like gets arrested for embezzling porterhouses in order to support his crystal meth habit, I'm unlikely to ever hear about it: there'll just be somebody else working there the next time I'm in.
It's pretty apparent that a pro (or major college) locker room is not an environment where I'd feel comfortable. So, I don't make any effort to spend any time there. I leave that door closed, and wish the press would, too.
I only want the good news. Does the quarterback go to visit sick kids? I'd love to hear about it. Does he stop at a strip club on the way home from the hospital? I don't want to know.
Yeah, I know: this horse has left the barn a long time ago. I'm not gonna get what I want. Anything these guys do that's bad - or can be painted to look that way - I'm gonna have to hear about it if I want to listen to any sports at all.
But I don't have to like it!
Saturday, February 05, 2011
A Bit of an Odd Duck
I have to admit to being a little, well, different from most other people. In some ways. Maybe in a lot of ways. When you get right down to it, I'm a bit of an odd duck.
(Some of you may have suspected this. Others of you had been sure of it.)
I enjoy humor, and chuckle at many of life's oddities as they come to my notice. Often, however, I have to explain just why I'm chuckling, and those closest to me tend to just let it go.
I didn't buy my first car until my mid-40's - and then discovered that I'm too distractible to be completely safe as a driver. I'm now back to carlessness, voluntarily.
I went nearly two decades during which I rarely saw a television show. I now own a TV and even digital cable - but don't really watch anything except cooking shows. And movies? As an adult, I've seen on average fewer than one a year, even including TV and videos - WAY fewer.
I've never found my "life's companion". This hasn't entirely been my doing - but somebody observing the infrequency with which I've dated over the years might justly conclude that I haven't tried very hard.
I don't really care for having my birthday celebrated, and especially don't care for having it celebrated at work. The coworker that arranges the monthly birthday party can't understand why I won't tell her which month I was born in. (Interested in astrology? I was born under the sign of Sanders.)
Most of the time, these things - and it's not a complete list - don't bother me much. Occasionally, though, they get in the way. For a short while a month or so ago, they got in my way with such frequency that I felt a bit like a freak.
Of course, we all have our own personality quirks, and the ways that I'm like other people in my culture and in my species are way more important than the ways in which I am not. Further, my unique characteristics are part of what makes me able to contribute in the ways that I do, in whatever part of my life.
Did I mention that I don't really like chocolate ice cream?
(Some of you may have suspected this. Others of you had been sure of it.)
I enjoy humor, and chuckle at many of life's oddities as they come to my notice. Often, however, I have to explain just why I'm chuckling, and those closest to me tend to just let it go.
I didn't buy my first car until my mid-40's - and then discovered that I'm too distractible to be completely safe as a driver. I'm now back to carlessness, voluntarily.
I went nearly two decades during which I rarely saw a television show. I now own a TV and even digital cable - but don't really watch anything except cooking shows. And movies? As an adult, I've seen on average fewer than one a year, even including TV and videos - WAY fewer.
I've never found my "life's companion". This hasn't entirely been my doing - but somebody observing the infrequency with which I've dated over the years might justly conclude that I haven't tried very hard.
I don't really care for having my birthday celebrated, and especially don't care for having it celebrated at work. The coworker that arranges the monthly birthday party can't understand why I won't tell her which month I was born in. (Interested in astrology? I was born under the sign of Sanders.)
Most of the time, these things - and it's not a complete list - don't bother me much. Occasionally, though, they get in the way. For a short while a month or so ago, they got in my way with such frequency that I felt a bit like a freak.
Of course, we all have our own personality quirks, and the ways that I'm like other people in my culture and in my species are way more important than the ways in which I am not. Further, my unique characteristics are part of what makes me able to contribute in the ways that I do, in whatever part of my life.
Did I mention that I don't really like chocolate ice cream?
Friday, February 04, 2011
D-Feast Friday: You Say Frittato, I Say Frittata
(OK, as far as I know, nobody says "frittato". It's my title. Deal.)
Breakfasts are a problem for me. For some reason, I want a breakfast to be breakfast, real breakfast - eggs, bacon or sausage, stuff like that. I can live without pancakes or waffles, but I don't really want yogurt. Breakfast cereals are okay, but most of them (meaning all the ones I've tried that I really want to eat) do terrible things to my blood glucose. A protein shake will have my tummy gurgling by 10:30. Plus, I'm not really organized in the morning, so I need breakfast to be fast to prepare and fast to eat.
A year or so ago, I started occasionally seeing a dish called a "frittata" on cooking shows. It's kinda sorta like an omelet, but (in the American version, anyway), there's no fussy turning or folding to screw up: instead, it's finished in the oven. And it can contain about anything that doesn't need additional cooking or will cook quickly.
A couple of weeks ago, having acquire an oven-safe pan, I tried it and loved it. I've now made three, and anticipate making many more.
Here's a real recipe. My procedure, adapted from Mark Bittman, is as follows.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Mix 6-8 eggs up with whatever you want to add, remembering the no-cook/quick-cook rule above. I use a pint carton of Egg Beaters. My mix usually has salt, pepper, some cheese and some cooked potato -- see other suggestons below. Melt two tablespoons of butter in an oven-safe skillet (that is, one that has a handle that won't melt). (It would probably help to start with some cooking spray in the pan: I have yet to remember to do this.) When the butter is melted, pour in the egg mix. (At this point, you can toss in any fillings that you want to add evenly, like the bits of kimchee I tried once, or maybe capers.)
Cook on the stove top until the edges seem set - in my pan, anyway, the edges pull a bit away from the edge of the pan. Put it in the oven until the top is just set and remove from oven, remembering that the pan handle is now very hot.
(Note: I understand that in Italy, they flip the thing in the pan using a plate as a temporary landing place rather than using the oven. If that interests you, go for it.)
Carefully remove the frittata from the pan with a spatula. I tend to work around the thing from the outside edge. I have yet to do this maneuver perfectly, but it's always gone reasonably well.
Since I started doing this, my breakfast on most days is a quarter frittata placed on a "sandwich thin" and put in the microwave for 30 seconds. Very satisfying.
My fillings so far have been kind of random, but I'm eager to try the following combinations that I've thought of:
"Greek" frittata -- slices of a nice olive or two, feta cheese.
American Dinner frittata - a sprinkling of cooked diced potatoes or hashbrowns, a little cooked sausage and/or bacon, onion.
Lox Special frittata - bits of smoked salmon, bits of cream cheese, onion, maybe a bit of diced tomatoes, capers.
Give it a try.
Breakfasts are a problem for me. For some reason, I want a breakfast to be breakfast, real breakfast - eggs, bacon or sausage, stuff like that. I can live without pancakes or waffles, but I don't really want yogurt. Breakfast cereals are okay, but most of them (meaning all the ones I've tried that I really want to eat) do terrible things to my blood glucose. A protein shake will have my tummy gurgling by 10:30. Plus, I'm not really organized in the morning, so I need breakfast to be fast to prepare and fast to eat.
A year or so ago, I started occasionally seeing a dish called a "frittata" on cooking shows. It's kinda sorta like an omelet, but (in the American version, anyway), there's no fussy turning or folding to screw up: instead, it's finished in the oven. And it can contain about anything that doesn't need additional cooking or will cook quickly.
A couple of weeks ago, having acquire an oven-safe pan, I tried it and loved it. I've now made three, and anticipate making many more.
Here's a real recipe. My procedure, adapted from Mark Bittman, is as follows.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Mix 6-8 eggs up with whatever you want to add, remembering the no-cook/quick-cook rule above. I use a pint carton of Egg Beaters. My mix usually has salt, pepper, some cheese and some cooked potato -- see other suggestons below. Melt two tablespoons of butter in an oven-safe skillet (that is, one that has a handle that won't melt). (It would probably help to start with some cooking spray in the pan: I have yet to remember to do this.) When the butter is melted, pour in the egg mix. (At this point, you can toss in any fillings that you want to add evenly, like the bits of kimchee I tried once, or maybe capers.)
Cook on the stove top until the edges seem set - in my pan, anyway, the edges pull a bit away from the edge of the pan. Put it in the oven until the top is just set and remove from oven, remembering that the pan handle is now very hot.
(Note: I understand that in Italy, they flip the thing in the pan using a plate as a temporary landing place rather than using the oven. If that interests you, go for it.)
Carefully remove the frittata from the pan with a spatula. I tend to work around the thing from the outside edge. I have yet to do this maneuver perfectly, but it's always gone reasonably well.
Since I started doing this, my breakfast on most days is a quarter frittata placed on a "sandwich thin" and put in the microwave for 30 seconds. Very satisfying.
My fillings so far have been kind of random, but I'm eager to try the following combinations that I've thought of:
"Greek" frittata -- slices of a nice olive or two, feta cheese.
American Dinner frittata - a sprinkling of cooked diced potatoes or hashbrowns, a little cooked sausage and/or bacon, onion.
Lox Special frittata - bits of smoked salmon, bits of cream cheese, onion, maybe a bit of diced tomatoes, capers.
Give it a try.
Thursday, February 03, 2011
What's a Blog Post Best For?
One of the fool notions I like to play with from time to time has to do with the relationship of different types of ideas to the ideal format for their expression. That sounds pretty high-falutin', but it's really pretty simple. Books (of the nonfiction variety) are good for extended examinations of a subject. Explorations of some aspect of the human condition might be best presented in an essay, but also might find their best form in a novel or a short story. And, of course, all sorts of things can find their way into poetry. (There are also, of course, ideas that don't belong to the word at all, and are developed into a piece of music, a painting, or some other artistic expression.)
So what's a blog post best for? For most of us bloggers, a blog post is likely the only means we have available to get an idea out to an audience. But suppose you had plenty of choice?
Suppose, for a minute, that you're a popular and critically-acclaimed author. Your publisher is likely to accept any book you send them, fiction or non-fiction. A magazine editor would be delighted to get an article from you. Even a newspaper editor would likely be pleased to get a guest editorial from you. Under what circumstances might you choose to put an idea in a blog post?
I don't have a good answer to the question, though I've got a guess or two. Blog posts make it very easy to link to something that's already out there and comment on it. It's not only easy, but intellectually honest: you can write a blog post vehemently disagreeing with something you've seen, but your link to the original item so that readers can decide for themselves.
Blog posts also carry the potential to be a marketing tool. A magazine editor is unlikely to print your explanation as to why everyone should run out and buy your latest novel (now in paperback!). But, you can do that in a blog - especially if you provide enough actual content to attract and keep an audience.
I think that blog posts are good for a quick exploration of a relatively narrow subject - why your team's manager should be fired, why a particular politician is an idiot (or a saint), or why Art Garfunkel's work on "Bridge Over Troubled Water" is the greatest male vocal performance in pop music history. (It is, you know.)
Blog posts are also great containers for "how-tos" for relatively simple procedures, from cooking an omelet to installing a new hard drive.
What do you thing? What are blog posts the ideal format for from your perspective?
So what's a blog post best for? For most of us bloggers, a blog post is likely the only means we have available to get an idea out to an audience. But suppose you had plenty of choice?
Suppose, for a minute, that you're a popular and critically-acclaimed author. Your publisher is likely to accept any book you send them, fiction or non-fiction. A magazine editor would be delighted to get an article from you. Even a newspaper editor would likely be pleased to get a guest editorial from you. Under what circumstances might you choose to put an idea in a blog post?
I don't have a good answer to the question, though I've got a guess or two. Blog posts make it very easy to link to something that's already out there and comment on it. It's not only easy, but intellectually honest: you can write a blog post vehemently disagreeing with something you've seen, but your link to the original item so that readers can decide for themselves.
Blog posts also carry the potential to be a marketing tool. A magazine editor is unlikely to print your explanation as to why everyone should run out and buy your latest novel (now in paperback!). But, you can do that in a blog - especially if you provide enough actual content to attract and keep an audience.
I think that blog posts are good for a quick exploration of a relatively narrow subject - why your team's manager should be fired, why a particular politician is an idiot (or a saint), or why Art Garfunkel's work on "Bridge Over Troubled Water" is the greatest male vocal performance in pop music history. (It is, you know.)
Blog posts are also great containers for "how-tos" for relatively simple procedures, from cooking an omelet to installing a new hard drive.
What do you thing? What are blog posts the ideal format for from your perspective?
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
A Test Strip's Tale
March 14: Suddenly, I burst into consciousness. It seems that I am a test strip for a glucose meter, a small miracle of technology precisely engineered for an important task. Within minutes of my awakening, I find myself in a small plastic container with 24 of my compatriots. I am puzzled, however, because I am the only strip in my container that appears to be sentient. This is especially unfortunate in the case of the rather attractive strip right next to me - I could share some thoughts with her, if you catch my meaning!
April 7th: After weeks of sitting in warehouses and being bounced around in trucks, I have arrived in a pharmacy. I wonder how long the wait here will be?
May 2nd: I have been purchased. I confess to feeling a little swell of pride at the amount of money paid for me: I am easy, but not cheap.
May 14th: I chafe at the length of my wait. My compatriots have been disappearing one at a time, naturally, that cute strip next to me was the first to go. I must say, the rate at which we're being used is somewhat slower than what I understood to be optimal. Nonetheless, I feel a strong affection for the man who bought me, and look forward to playing my part in supporting his health care goals.
May 18th: The day for which I was created has at last arrived! The container is opened, and I am removed. I am placed into the meter: the fit is perfect. I am touched to a drop of blood, and I process it according to my engineering and deliver the good word to the meter, which promptly displays the result. (163? As a fasting reading for a meds-only T2? What did he EAT last night????)
My joy is complete, my destiny is fulfilled. The man whose very life I have helped preserve has left me in the meter, presumably to contemplate the excellence with which I have perfomed.
May 19th: I begin to wonder, now that my purpose is complete, what my future holds. This morning I was removed from the meter and replaced with another strip. Rather than being placed with dignity in the luxurious final resting place I expected and deserved, I was casually tossed into a pile of other strips that have given their all. It's dusty, too.
May 23rd: My existence gets worse and worse. This morning, the pile I was in was swept into a wastebasket. I, however, fell outside the basket onto the floor. A few minutes later I found myself adhering to the bottom of the man's foot and thus carried into his shower, where the water washed me off his foot and into the tub's drain strainer. The conditions here are unspeakable. How I wish I had entered the waste stream with my fellows, bound for the serenity of the landfill or perhaps even the blessed oblivion the incinerator offers.
May 25th: How long will it take this man to notice me here in the drain? I have come to hate him.
May 26th: At last, the tyrant notices me here in the drain. He plucks me off, and tosses me toward another wastebasket - and again he misses. (I hope his pancreas explodes.) So I lie here, right next to the toilet. I will say no more of my situation here. Oh, that this consciousness with which I was cursed might have an end.
June 3rd: Finally, finally, my blessed end is nigh. Again, I was thrown away, but this time actually made it into the basket. The last few days in the waste stream have been disgusting, but here I am on a moving belt, and I see the incinerator ahead. Oh lovely nothingness, I come!
April 7th: After weeks of sitting in warehouses and being bounced around in trucks, I have arrived in a pharmacy. I wonder how long the wait here will be?
May 2nd: I have been purchased. I confess to feeling a little swell of pride at the amount of money paid for me: I am easy, but not cheap.
May 14th: I chafe at the length of my wait. My compatriots have been disappearing one at a time, naturally, that cute strip next to me was the first to go. I must say, the rate at which we're being used is somewhat slower than what I understood to be optimal. Nonetheless, I feel a strong affection for the man who bought me, and look forward to playing my part in supporting his health care goals.
May 18th: The day for which I was created has at last arrived! The container is opened, and I am removed. I am placed into the meter: the fit is perfect. I am touched to a drop of blood, and I process it according to my engineering and deliver the good word to the meter, which promptly displays the result. (163? As a fasting reading for a meds-only T2? What did he EAT last night????)
My joy is complete, my destiny is fulfilled. The man whose very life I have helped preserve has left me in the meter, presumably to contemplate the excellence with which I have perfomed.
May 19th: I begin to wonder, now that my purpose is complete, what my future holds. This morning I was removed from the meter and replaced with another strip. Rather than being placed with dignity in the luxurious final resting place I expected and deserved, I was casually tossed into a pile of other strips that have given their all. It's dusty, too.
May 23rd: My existence gets worse and worse. This morning, the pile I was in was swept into a wastebasket. I, however, fell outside the basket onto the floor. A few minutes later I found myself adhering to the bottom of the man's foot and thus carried into his shower, where the water washed me off his foot and into the tub's drain strainer. The conditions here are unspeakable. How I wish I had entered the waste stream with my fellows, bound for the serenity of the landfill or perhaps even the blessed oblivion the incinerator offers.
May 25th: How long will it take this man to notice me here in the drain? I have come to hate him.
May 26th: At last, the tyrant notices me here in the drain. He plucks me off, and tosses me toward another wastebasket - and again he misses. (I hope his pancreas explodes.) So I lie here, right next to the toilet. I will say no more of my situation here. Oh, that this consciousness with which I was cursed might have an end.
June 3rd: Finally, finally, my blessed end is nigh. Again, I was thrown away, but this time actually made it into the basket. The last few days in the waste stream have been disgusting, but here I am on a moving belt, and I see the incinerator ahead. Oh lovely nothingness, I come!
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Personal Blog Posting Month
Many bloggers make a commitment during the month of November (originally) to do "National Blog Posting Month", which is a commitment to do a post each day for that entire month. Last November, I had no interest. Now, however, I feel the need to do it for February. (I'm not the only one - I know of at least two other diabetes bloggers that have independently made the same commitment.)
I've gotten myself into a little trap of wanting each blog post, particularly for my Diabetes Daily blog, to be a little gem: a complete, if short, essay wrapped around one (or more) idea that is (usually) of some importance, at least to me. That kind of blog post is HARD, so I'm not posting as much as I'd like. So, I'm going to use this month to try to get out of my rut a little bit by doing a lot of different posts of differing lengths and formats. I also hope it will be fun...and not TOO time intensive.
I've gotten myself into a little trap of wanting each blog post, particularly for my Diabetes Daily blog, to be a little gem: a complete, if short, essay wrapped around one (or more) idea that is (usually) of some importance, at least to me. That kind of blog post is HARD, so I'm not posting as much as I'd like. So, I'm going to use this month to try to get out of my rut a little bit by doing a lot of different posts of differing lengths and formats. I also hope it will be fun...and not TOO time intensive.
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