You already know where this is heading, don’t you?

24 05 2007

Uranus jokes never get old, do they?

I have boys.  Three boys.  My oldest boy, Isaac, is in Kindergarten.  A couple weeks ago they had “space week” so now Isaac is very interested in space.  It’s all he talks about aside from video games.  He loves talking about Venus, the hottest planet, where the surface temperature is around 800 degrees.  And since Isaac is interested in space, it follows that Jonathan has also become recently fascinated with the subject, and often we’ll find them looking at a space book, with Isaac reading out loud lots of facts and bits of knowledge about certain planets, stars, and galaxies.  These kids are brilliant I tell you.

The only problem when you have two young boys that are interested in space and planets is that sometimes they say things that are funny to their dork daddies.  Oh, the facts and information about Mars and Mercury aren’t too terribly entertaining, but when Isaac starts talking about Uranus I can’t help but smile.  I’ll readily admit that I’m an immature dork.  I can live with that.  But hearing your six year old tell you that Uranus is covered in a thick cloud of noxious gas is pretty darn funny.  The best part is he doesn’t get it.

Last week Isaac brought home a library book from school all about Uranus.  I just knew I’d get at least two blog posts from it.  The first came from our visit to the doctor on Friday afternoon, and out of nowhere Jonathan asked Isaac a question that he just had to  have answered right now.

“Isaac, does Uranus have gas?”

 The author of the book is also an immature dork.

Page titles include:
“Exploring Uranus”
“Large Moons”
“The Rings of Uranus”

My favorite quote from the book:
“Scientists discovered a layer of smog near the south pole of Uranus.”

I love being a dork.

Attack of the zombie Iron Chef judges

10 05 2007

I would like to dedicate this post to my good friend Daddyforever, who has nominated me for the inaugural Thinking Booger Award, which is celebrating blogs that make you think of boogers. The other distinguished recipient even designed a graphic:


On with the nasty:

There are certain shows I watch to get ideas for ruining dinner my menu for next week. Iron Chef is not one of them. Iron Chef is the show that I sit back and watch, in reverence and awe, chefs who know what they’re doing. It was my friend Mario Batali against challenger Chris Cosentino in Battle Garlic. Chef Cosentino started things off by butchering a sqab. What is a squab? I’m glad you asked, and I am here to enlighten you with my superior knowledge. I’ll put it in SAT terms. Veal is to lamb as squab is to…pigeon.

He took the head and the legs (feet still attached) and fried them in olive oil before then roasting them in the oven. For plating he put a roasted clove of garlic in the talon of the squab (I thought that was cool) and split the heads in half. When presenting to the judges he instructed them to grasp the squab by the back of the head and suck the brains out.

Pause. Let that sink in. NO! Wait! I said pause. Let that sink in.

He actually said the words “suck the brains out.” Twice. Ted Allen did a double take and asked for clarification but no, he heard it right the first time. All three judges did as instructed and Ted Allen even mentioned how the brains had a “wonderful flavor.”

Now I am a small town boy. I didn’t grow up in the big city or in the country, so I’ve never even thought about eating brains. I was never privy to fine dining, nor did I ever eat roadkill. Call me a Philistine if you want to, I will accept the label. I suppose I’m not a true “foodie,” although I like to pretend to be one. But there are certain things I just won’t eat. One is rabbit kidneys & livers, and another is pigeon brains.

Chef Cosentino is very proud of his performance in Iron Chef (even though Mario won) and is even offering his entire Iron Chef menu at his restaurant. Personally I think he was robbed. The judges gave him almost no points for plating and that squab dish alone would’ve given him a perfect score in my book. Even if I think that eating brains is gross, the presentation was genius. And you could tell he really enjoyed the shock value of his dish on the judges, and apparently, America. Bravo, Chef!

I have no business sense

23 04 2007

Springtime, with the April showers, the lilac blossoms, the warm spring air, the smell of manure (give me a break, I live in central PA), means one thing is on its way.  Bulk trash day.

Every spring we put out the furniture, appliances, and garden tools that have lost their usefulness in the past year.  The boro tells us when they’re going to come, and what they will and won’t pick up.  There’s only one catch.  The boro has never picked up our bulk trash.  They’ve never gotten the chance.  We must be the Mercedes of trash or something.  I’m not sure what these people do with the stuff they take from our curb; all I know is I must not be resourceful enough for my trash to make me money.  Here are some of the things we’ve put out and people have taken:

  • Lawn chairs with cushions left out over winter
  • A threadbare couch with puke stains all over it
  •  40+ year old shovel and hoe, with splinters and a carpenter bee living inside
  • A straw broom with the bristles bent to a 90-degree angle
  • A non-working above-range microwave oven

Not only did all of these items get taken by scavengers, none of them lasted more than two hours.  The microwave got discarded this year, and since I knew someone would take it I left the mounting brackets out with it.  It even had the glass tray inside.  With all my dining room shenanagins I had no time to get anything out of the attic to put out.  The boro trucks have already been past to collect the trash, but I’ve been wondering something.  If I leave something else out will somebody come by again and pick it up?  I’ve been toying with the idea.