Dogs and Wagons

A recent post on FaceBook reminded me of something from my yoof: family drives with the dog. In this case it was the seventies and summer drives in our "beach" wagon (as it was referred to) with our family dog Jackie. Dad would drive us to various destinations of scenic beauty while us kids in the grand tradition of the last century roamed unfettered by safety restraints between seats and cargo areas. We'd go to the Berkshires, to the Quabbin reservoir or to Rockport in a day.

One of the things I clearly remember is Jackie navigating. He's plant his butt between Dad and Mum with his eyes on the road and his nose in the AC vent, scouring the terrain for any objects he might have to warn us puny humans against.

Except when he'd fart.

In the seconds before we could smell it, we'd know it was coming- Jackie would decide that the best place possible to be in this rolling living room was in the waaaaaay back, and this was the sign to roll all the windows down. Even the tailgate. even at the risk of exhaust entering the cabin. Because while exhaust can poison you Jackie's farts could melt your face.

Of course, in retrospect it didn't help that we would insist that Jackie had his own cone at the Tastee Freeze like the rest of us (he preferred butter pecan). Jackie at least had the good taste to look a little abashed.

While I know that this era of strapping the kids and the pets and ourselves in is the safest way to be (and I never even sit in a car without a belt) I do have a sense of nostalgia for the bad old days where "climb over" was common and farting unfettered poodles could drive a family outing.

image: wikipedia commons

Eating Out

This evening I went out to dinner with friends. We went to a local place on Wilshire here in town and I decided that for once I was going to have a starter that we'd share: asparagus in a really nice mustard sauce. I ordered meatloaf with mashed potatoes and sautéed kale.

I loved it, but wish it had been about half the size of what was served. It wasn't one of those Cheesecake Factory portions that should be serving six, but I didn't come near to finishing it, and knowing myself I likely never will, even though I did take the rest home.

With all the talk about the obesity epidemic I kind of wish places did half-sized entrees. Wheeling out a plate the size of a truck tire heaped with food may make people feel they "got their money's worth", but giving me something that is a third the size at half the price will make me comfortably full, save food and money being wasted and just generally make more sense.

Image: my iPhone

The Great Outdoors; I'll Pass, Thanks.

I am not one for the outdoors. By outdoors I don't mean sitting in the park on a warm spring day reading a book and sipping a frothy-frozen coffee beverage while in the back of my mind plotting my next meal. I mean the Great Outdoors. I do not camp. Well, not that way.

I was lucky enough to find this out early. I had (have) an older brother who loved all that stuff. Being the younger sibling I insisted that I was included on some of these trips to the outdoors only to be bored rigid. I can remember one where we went fishing on the Mill River in our little town. I can remember sitting in the boat with my pole and looking up in wonderment at the underside of the bridge spanning Meadow Street. 36 seconds later I realized that for me fishing was the most boring and pointless thing in the world. There are fish at the market and since this was the Mill River in the 70's any fish that might have survived the level of pollution most likely would be toxic to eat.

Then there was camping. My brother and a his friend went camping and I wanted to go. My parents basically forced them to allow it. They sat in the tent whittling or telling stories or whatever and after about 12 minutes of this I realised I was cold, the ground was lumpy, I was bored and we'd had the better part of 200 years of being a country so that we could sleep indoors on our Sealy Posturepedics and chat with our friends on our touch-tone Trimline phones while enjoying steam heat.

Luckily the campsite was in our backyard, so I could drop this idiocy and go have a sandwich and watch "Rhoda."

So I learned my limits early. I'm not likely to climb Runyon with you when I can be using an elliptical while listening to techno music. I would like to visit Yosemite, but would do so only to stay at the Ahwahnee. If I am on a boat it had better be flying Cunard colors.

Because my idea of roughing it is going someplace where there isn't a Trader Joe's.

Image: Internets

Winter in Los Angeles

I love winter in LA. It's certainly not terribly cold, although it can get down to near freezing at night and most older buildings aren't built with insulation, so heating can be expensive- I don't use mine.

What I really like is watching people at this time of the year. You'll see natives pulling out parka when it's a little over 60º while tourists from places like Wisconsin are in t-shirts and flip-flops.

This is the time of the year that it rains. Rain is greeted here as, say Tokyo regards the arrival of Godzilla. Action McNews blares headlines about "Storm Watch 2013" while darkly warning about the impeding storm as if it were a shower of man-eating clams rather than water.

Granted, storms here can be fraught. We've had mudslides, trees uprooted, and flooding. Traffic will come to a stand-still because half the people on the roads will go three MPH while the other half will go 20 miles over the limit, presumably because they have not been informed that automobiles are not water soluble.

But the main thing that I like about it is how clean and clear the air is here after the rain, and that I can see snow on the mountains to the east.

From the comfort and safety of the 65º temps on Santa Monica and Cañon...

Image: My iPhone

You Like Me! You Really Like Me!!

Found at HuffPo: they liked my writing on PST and the Posse.

Validation is great; a salaried position doing something I love would be great..

Image stolen from Huffington Post.

YouTube finds: Electric Dreams

I just spent a couple of hours watching the fascinating and wholly excellent BBC Doc "Electric Dreams". It takes a typical Upper-Middle class English family of 2009 and plunks and re-does their home back to 1970. From there, they will "age" technologically one year for every day, until they hit the year 2000.

It's fascinating because the parents long for the days when families would be more together as they remember it, but forget that a lot of the time-savers they take for granted in 2009 weren't standard equipment in 1970- they start out without central heating, an apartment-sized stove, no freezer and with a car they can't find second gear in.

As the go through the weeks they are delivered technology as they would have according to statistics. Color TVs, VHS recorders, computers, game consoles, and mobile phones.

What's really nice about it is that these people seem really, well, nice. They aren't out for camera time and while they might be occasionally petulant, you can tell they really love each other. You'd be thrilled to have them as neighbors.

All three installments are viewable on YouTube:

The 70's

The 80's

The 90's

One of the things I like about it (in addition to the fact that as a kid of the 70's it resonates) is that it is flawlessly scored with period-correct music. Which I enjoyed, even if it made me feel older than dirt.

Whither Twinkie?

Hostess is no more.

The company said that they cannot afford to continue to bake it's low priced treats while paying the wages of it's employees. The unionized employees counter that the top-heavy management was sucking the life out of the company.

So, we can argue that this is a brand that went into cultural irrelevance long ago in the quest for healthier food. You can say (and you'll likely be correct) that they aren't going anywhere because someone will buy the rights and start making them again. You could also say (and are likely correct) that they weren't very good to begin with.

But it is sad to have more lost jobs in this economy.

For the first time since I was about 13 I really want a Twinkie..

Image: Internets..

Sorry I've been away..

But the blog has taken a backseat to other things. Like lying around. I'll try to put a stop to that and post more.

While I am on the subject of things that must be stopped. here's one:

Yes, it's that devilish "please prove you're not a robot" crap that Blogger has instituted to stop spam. It doesn't, since I'm always deleting comments with "gosh, this helpfil info! please blog about black pearl jewelry". It just makes it annoying enough to comment on blogs that I sometimes just give up.

Do you hate this as much as I do? Comment, if you dare..

World Trade Center

Air Conditioning, Mankind's Greatest Achievement?

As much as I will whine about being too cold, being too hot makes me want to bite someone, and not in a good way. Luckily I reside in one of the more temperate zip codes in one of the most temperate climates in the country. For the most part, the parts of it that are less temperate have AC.

I don't.

Why? Well every year we get two weeks or so where it's miserable spread out between August and late September, and even then unlike other places it's guaranteed to cool off at night that at some point I'll be reaching for the comforter. I actually prefer fresh air to AC if I can at all, and would love to have a place with an old-fashioned California "Sleeping Porch": a second-floor covered and screened balcony older houses had for sleeping in the summer.

The only place that I really love AC is in the car. My current car is a venerable Civic which gets almost hybrid-like gas mileage, mostly due to the fact it's likely made out of gum-wrapper thin metal and has an engine that is perhaps powered by bees. Well, it sounds like it anyway. It does have an air conditioner, which does cool the air somewhat if given a big head-start. It's sort of like someone holding an ice cube in their palm and blowing on it into your face.

From across the street.

I remember one particular time having met my BFF Sue at the Huntington Library in San Marino to see the Corpse Flower bloom, and to wander the gardens on one of those blazing dry Pasadena days where you could start a fire by rubbing your hair briskly. She got into her New Beetle with the good AC and I got in my Honda, which, had I thought ahead I could have left bread dough in to arrive to a nice snack. I think I was at the Fairfax exit on the 10 before the temp was anything close to human and I believe I sweated through my wallet.

As I wrote, her car had the good AC- I've tested it. But the number one champs in the Air Conditioning department are the Americans. I've had more experience with General Motors, since my parents were confirmed GM people and I've driven several Cadillacs over the years. They had a system you would dial a temperature into and upon starting the car it would do it's level best to get you there. So if you were parked in an open lot in the Valley for four hours and had it set at 62° it will be a blast chiller freezing your face off until you either change the setting or it was darned we'll 62° in apparently the package shelf.

I assume that is why they now have remote start. I'd love to find out.

Having tested a Chevy Volt I did like one of the features that wasn't remote start: pressing and holding the unlock button on the remote would open all four windows to their fullest to help cool off the car. I loved that and used it a lot. Of course that week the temps were in the mid-70's. They also do remote start, but suggest that it's done while plugged in to use the plugs power to "pre-condition" the interior before unplugging and driving off.

Yes, I still have that Civic. Yes, the AC is still unimpressive. So a lot of the time I take the MTA. While it moves at a glacial pace to get you where you want to go (4 hours round trip to the Marina? Really?) at least it's glacial in temps as well. Because I don't need to sweat through another wallet..

Photo: Wikipedia Commons