Though we did indeed grill meat too.
Not meat in the Catholic sense, but meat in a taxinomic sense. Sorry for only having an image of the raw steel-head and scallops--I got too busy while cooking to take any further pictures.
It was a nice day, so we had the AC off and the windows open. A good time to roast coffee and after the oven was free of coffee (it gives off a lot of smoke) some JoJo's to go with dinner.
Mexican Turquesa
Yemen, Mocha Matari
Idaho, JoJo's Vaishali-style.
I wanted to run it this year because I figured that it couldn't possibly be as bad as last year.
It did not start auspiciously; I gave myself two hours to get there, park, pick-up my number & so forth. Google maps gave the route an estimate of one hour, so I figured that I was fine. Traffic said otherwise. As I looked at the temperature gauge, which hovered between 95 and 97 degrees, I half-way hoped I would arrive too late to race. Route 495 was a mixture of stop-and-go and wide-open lanes and I had spent an hour and a half by the time I got off the highway. I now had to find the race, park, pick-up my race number, run back to the car to drop-off my t-shirt and sun glasses and then run to the start. I got to the starting line right before the gun went off.
Some large races have a starting sensor which keeps track of when you cross the starting line and deducts this from the final time. This can be significant. In Boston from a couple of years ago, I started in the middle of the pack and still took over 6 minutes to reach the starting line. This race didn't have a starting sensor and since I came late I was further back in the pack than I would have liked. Between crowds preventing full speed running for the first mile and the time it took to reach the start, I estimate that I lost around two minutes. This translates into 12 seconds per mile for the whole 10-mile race. It was in the low 90's at the start, but there was a little wind and the humidity was much less than last year.
I think I was running in the mid sevens for most of the way. I didn't really go all-out except at the end though. I was up there on my own and didn't want to be in a position where I incapacitated myself. In the last two miles though, a group caught-up with me and I increased my pace to match them. We all, to one degree or another, sped-up in these last couple of miles since we could taste the finish and the temperature had fallen at least 10 degrees. By the last quarter-mile we were all moving pretty fast and there was even some jostling for position in the curves. For some reason this made me loose patience and I went into full sprint mode for the final 200 yards. I left the group I was in behind and passed another half-dozen runners in addition. It is nice to add a little drama at the end for spectators. It was a little irritating though--if I had all this speed at the end, I probably could have run a faster pace for a substantial part of the second half.
I did help the team though:
9. GREATER LOWELL ROAD RUNNERS1:02:51 1:03:57 1:11:33 1:16:42 1:30:56 = 6:05:59
724 Jason Bui 30, 2997 Cody Freihofer 22, 1881 Ken Goodin 55,
2134 David Pecchia 47, 2299 John Ducharme 41
Had I not been there, then the 6th and only other team member's time would have been used. He ran it 19 minutes slower than I did and so this would have knocked us into 12th place. Not to disparage him, he is 71 years old and finished first in his age group.
Last year I was 310th and this year 312th, so I guess the better conditions this year helped everybody, not just me.
Update: Looks as if there were a couple more GLRR's there and we moved up to 7th:
7. GREATER LOWELL ROAD RUNNERS1:02:51 1:03:57 1:08:10 1:11:33 1:16:42 = 5:43:13
724 Jason Bui 30, 2997 Cody Freihofer 22, 762 Fil Faria 45, 1881
Ken Goodin 55, 2134 David Pecchia 47
Heard this on the radio this morning. It came out in the late 70's but to me sounds emblematic of much of what would come out through much of the 1980's.
The main bulk of the day was spent at the CS&T club minding the kids as they did swim team, tennis lessons and then swim lessons. We have a girl who does this the other four days per week but since I have Wednesdays off, she has Wednesdays off too. While there I got another few chapters of Stalin's Ghost read: Our hero has survived being shot in the head and few other scrapes in his suicidal attempt to bring the bad-guys to justice. Also, ran into the mom of one of Dahlia's friends, just back from three weeks in France. Naturally we had a lot to talk about.
Once home, I cleaned-up the breakfast things and lunch things which was enough to run a load in the dishwasher. Next, I put together a batch of spaghetti sauce for dinner tonight and a few other nights. We ate early due to Surenna having to go to a hip-hop workshop. After dinner there were enough pots, pans and dishes for the dishwasher to set-out again on its mission.
After all of this, there was still plenty of light for a run though it was still 80 degrees out. When we haven't had a heat-wave in a while, I sort of relish the idea of blitzing-out a 5-miler in the middle of the afternoon. It is a challenge that I enthusiastically embrace. It has been more-or-less continuously hot here for a solid month and now running in the heat just seems like drudgery. I think that this is the reason for my times being so lame in the last couple of weeks. Still, with heavy heart, I went out for a four miler.
One small reward was that I got to see how fast I was going. The police have put up a radar sign which flashes your speed. I have noticed it in the car and wondered if it would register a runner. There are two criteria that would have to be met: 1. There must be some threshold speed to be met since you wouldn't want it wasting its time flashing zero all day from the speed of the road itself. 2. There must be a reflection threshold. You want it to pick-up a car or motorcycle, but not, presumably, a breeze. this would not seem to be a tough problem since motor vehicles are made of metal, which is pretty reflective to microwaves, versus air which is not very reflective. (There are such things as storm and wind speed radars btw.) The key here is which side of the threshold is a person? I am mostly water and the only metal is a wedding ring and a couple of bits of dental work. The answer is that it did pick me up. It was on a slight down-hill and picked up my speed as 8 MPH from about 200 feet away. Naturally I sped-up and managed to hit 11 MPH (which is a 5:30 pace). I think I could have hit a higher speed but didn't want to pull something and cripple myself. Also, just for comparison; I could run a 1/4 mile in High School at an average speed of 15 MPH. Double also; I was a distance runner and the real quarter milers were much, much faster than me.
Being forced to sit outside on a hot day (at least we got there early enough to grab a spot under a good shade tree) has some benefit: I had enough time to get back into a book I had started back in January on the flight home from Bombay. I am reading Stalin's Ghost which is the 6th novel in a series by Martin Cruz Smith. The first book is the most famous, Gorky Park probably because there was a big Hollywood movie too. The movie is actually pretty good, it has William Hurt and Lee Marvin in it. It was only through looking into it in the process of writing this post that I realized how many stories there were in this series. I had read the first two and had a vague impression there was more than three.
Anyway, I am really glad I kept reading. The novel was interesting, but fairly involved so to keep track of the characters and plot requires either quick reading or careful attention. The action is picking-up now and so I am eager to find out what comes next. Our hero, the guy played by William Hurt in the movie, has had a girl try to garrotte him in one chapter and in the next a deadbeat dad shoots him in the head. I suspect he will live since the book centers around this character, but we shall see.
I don't feel too bad though: The plug came from a little hardware store that didn't have filters anyway. I will have to go to the big Sears Home Center for the filter. Meanwhile the lawn is still growing.
I've done it before and am doing it again today: Roasting coffee on the charcoal grill. The first batch is a little over roasted, but I think it will still make serviceable coffee. The 2nd batch was really perfect, a nice Vienna roast--lighter than French but darker than American. The 3rd batch, doesn't seem to want to finish: I guess the coals only go for so long and these batches have been taking around 30 minutes each.
One nice little benefit from all of this is that the grill has burned-away any accumulated grease.
1. The marinade.2. The cut of meat--no matter how you flavor a crappy specimen of flesh, it will still be dry, tough or whatever.
3. Cooking technique: There are a million ways to ruin the most perfect cut of meat--burn it, under-cook it, cook it too slow, etc.
All of this was brought about by a visit to a new "gourmet" shop in town. The name of the place inspired thoughts that it was primarily a meat place and a good portion of the joint was meat, but less than half. The rest was a selection of mostly what we would consider upscale items rather than gourmet. The problem was that they didn't have much of a selection in any category. They had breads, but only sliced (a good brand) and a smattering of artisan loaves. They had some nice cheeses, but a selection any one of our supermarkets easily match. As for the meats, it was not a full-service shop. They had some USDA Prime steaks, various chops and sausages, but mostly they had vacuum sealed packages of marinated meat. This is what my wife primarily rejected. First, she didn't expect that their marinades would stack-up well against what any competent cook could throw together and the prices were super high. Added to that, it is impossible to judge the quality of a piece of meat when it is swimming in goop.
We got nothing from this place.
Later, I went to Costco for various items and scored. They had USDA prime beef! One package was about $8/LB and was a boneless rib eye roast. This is a good deal since the regular grocer charges almost that much for USDA choice grade. I am dry aging the whole piece and will cut 3-4 LB of it for a Christmas roast and the rest into steaks of various thicknesses.
Since it was my day-off, I also got a package of three racks of baby-back ribs. I put a dry rub on them and slow cooked them for 6 hours. Half were for dinner and the other half for an easy meal some other time.
Besides the shopping, I had run with my wife at lunch-time, worked on the cars and picked-up some plywood for a project--so I was kind of tired. Still, after the big rib meal and the earlier slow run, I wanted to really go out and get a hard workout. I went into the failing light for a 7.85 miler and even at that late hour it was hot and sticky. I felt great when I was done though, for a while. When I went to bed, the chills set-in, plus I felt dehydrated. Later, my skin turned burning hot and my perpetually cold wife couldn't stand having me close. All turned to normal within a couple hours of hitting the sack though. I suspect I had a bit of heat exhaustion.
Today, I tried the same thing except this time she was silent. Lost in her own thoughts, not a word was uttered the whole way home. Once home, I opened up the door and she disappeared upstairs while I turned to cleaning the kitchen.
I'll put up pictures if I see any posted.
This is the first race ever for both Wife and oldest daughter--they did very well and I am proud of them!
I was able to find my picture at the race site, but not of the others. Well, they are above.
My wife swears that this is not the color that these lilies were last year. Odd that.
Real life is not like fiction though. Bad, evil people who have caused untold suffering die in their sleep, while heroes find their names dragged through the mud, or die in prison. Injustice is Spain, which was led by Franco until his death by natural causes, prosecuting Pinochet who had relinquished power and returned his country back to democracy. I chose this controversial example on purpose. We may disagree on what is just, but we all agree that there is injustice.
I think this is the root behind seeing justice prevail in much of the arts. To the devout, the concepts of Heaven and Hell go hand-in-hand with a just and good God. If there is a God, surely he will ensure that justice prevails: If not in this life, then in the next.
All of this musing was stimulated by part of a comment section regarding the downfall of Journolist. A commenter seemed to be totally unfamiliar with the above concepts:
Daniel said... There's a difference between delighting in the misery of others and actually causing it. Of course there is, but maybe in the opposite way you think. Causing the misery of others (who deserve it) is better than just delighting in it. It is similar to how having wealth by earning it is more enjoyable than having it just fall into your lap.
And
Daniel said... dbp, your words, even in jest, are absent any redeeming quality. I'm going to take the high ground by hoping that no one ever thinks that you deserve misery, and takes it upon themselves to make it happen.
I think the problem here is what was mentioned above. Daniel clearly thinks that the Journolisters are innocent and therefore punishment is unjust. I obviously feel the opposite way. I (for the record) appreciate that he wishes no harm to me, thanks! If I ever truly deserve to be punished, I hope that I retain the moral clarity to appreciate it. Further, in a cosmic sense (nothing spiritual here Crack, just mean life taken as a whole)I almost certainly do not deserve to live a life as happy as the one I have.
The version from Donnie Darko sung by Gary Jules with arrangement and instrumentation by Michael Andrews.
I planted blueberry bushes about 5 years ago with high hopes. The little bushes had lots of berries the very first year. The next year deer ate the bushes down to stubs--especially this one, but it has made a real come-back. This is the first year with any appreciable fruit. The birds, squirrels or whatever is eating the berries are appreciative I'm sure.
It took two amazing players for the match to have come out this way. They both exemplified the highest traditions of the sport. They brought honor to themselves and to their sport.
Bravo!
Via Facebook I reconnected with a grade school classmate. We didn't interact much in school, but being in the same class of less than 20 kids for 3rd through 5th grades lets you observe enough to feel like you know the person. I actually knew her older brother better: He and I often sat on the school bus together and would chat. He introduced me to The Lord Of The Rings among other things and I would tell him what I know about the military. My dad was an Air Force pilot and the brother seemed fascinated by all things military. He is serving in the US Army (reserves I believe) even now. Anyway, there were two other siblings, both sisters. One was older and was in my older brother's class, the other was much younger and I think was in a grade below my younger sister's.
The three younger siblings had an active repartee between each other on FB, but there had never been any mention, comment from or entry on friend lists for their eldest sister. I was tempted to ask, across these nearly 40 years, whatever became of "B". I never did, of course--what if something tragic or scandalous had "become" of her?
So, it was a big relief a few days back when she posted a reply to a post her brother made. She is alive, well and employed in a reputable profession. The question is, why did I care in the first place? [Note: I obviously care about any human being, what I mean here is the extra concern conveyed to people you have an emotional connection to.] I don't think we ever exchanged a word with each other. I was too young to be moved by music back in grade school, but certainly had enough of an ear to admire the skill with which she played the piano at recitals. That is a pretty tenuous connection to hang emotional content on.
On further reflection, I think I know why I care: I care about the girl from my class and her older brother because I know them. I care about their sister because they must care, in a really vital way, about her and so by extension I care. She has a big effect on them and I care about things that have a big effect on people I know. Further, it goes beyond this: That other people care deeply makes my empathy reach out to this lady and to wish her well.
ADDED: I have an aunt who is into new-age nonsense and I know how she would view all of this. She would think that my good will directed toward "B" will somehow reach her and make her feel happy. In reality, if she knew that the little brother of one of her class mates from grade school was thinking about her at all, it would probably give her the creeps.
3. Maybe if I remove the map...
2. It is still messing things up, but in a different way now. It is showing posts below out of order.
4. Of course the fix required the complete removal of the original post, so I am back to square one.
First thing in the morning, my wife got up and was heading out to go for a jog. I offered to join her since I didn't plan to go for a serious run anyway and she likes the company. Since it was cool, we took the dog along too.
After breakfast, all I really wanted to do is finish the lawn mowing: Yesterday I had run the chipper/shredder for however long it takes to consume one tank of gas. Even with gloved hands, the vibration from grinding branches rends hands weak and bruised feeling, if I did two tanks' worth it might do lasting damage. It was enough though to clear most the the debris left-over from falling a large pine tree last Memorial Day weekend. Before grinding, I had run the mower over the back & side yards and the machine was running fine, so I had high hopes for the front, which was especially lush since it hadn't been cut in three weeks. I got through maybe 1/3 of the front before the machine quit. I didn't have time to fix the mower because I had to get washed-up and go to the recital.
The older girl was in two numbers, one ballet and one hip hop. She really is built for ballet, she is graceful and slim rather than powerful and quick. The younger was in 4 numbers. Singing, acting, ballet and a sort of show dance. She is only 8, but loves the stage. It is revealing to see them up there since they don't practice this stuff at home, at least not when I am around.
One thing I could not help but notice in the endless (seeming) parade of dance routines was that dancing on stage does not favor the chunky. Plenty of slim girls lack either the talent or skill to be entertaining as dancers but if they have much skill then they are a pleasure to watch. There was no exception to the rule that stocky girls looked ridiculous on stage. I think this is due partly to physics and partly to aesthetics. The extra weight prevents high leaps or graceful moves. Dance costumes tend to be skin tight and this only looks good on a fit build. It was really too bad since clearly some of the dancers were well trained and the only thing preventing a pleasing performance was excess mass.
Today I really wanted to finish the lawn since I had made such good progress yesterday. It took about an hour to get the lawnmower running: Changed the oil, added gas, cleaned the spark-plug and then finally got it to go when I took the plug from the snow blower and put it into the mower. It ran like a champ for most of the rest and it was heavy-duty; grass was lush and shin-high. Toward the end, the mower got finicky again and oddly, would only run when I put my finger lightly over the choke-bulb hole. I put a bit of scotch-tape over the hole and this worked, though not as well as my finger.
I finished this work by early afternoon, but didn't feel like doing more.
1. I had already showered twice and didn't want to get filthy again.
2. I was tired.
3. We would be going out to dinner after today's performance and I didn't want to be in the middle of any large project when it came time to go.
4. Really, I think it all comes down to being tired and feeling like I had gotten as much done as could be expected.
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