Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Crooked Cookbooks!

There’s something that gives me a little weird tingle – right here in my kitchen. It’s the sight of one of my Pampered Chef cookbooks – complete with Doris Christopher’s happy shiny visage – placed in the row of books – upside down. It’s a simple thing, and I could fix it in an instant. But it gives me the strange perverse combination of chilling and comical.

We all know the connotation of an upside down cross, or an upside flag. Thoughts of loss, chaos, evil or distress come to mind. But a cookbook? Well unless it’s some sort of item like How to Serve Man, or The Anarchists Cookbook, then cookbooks are fairly innocuous, right? So it really just makes me laugh, but it kind of creeps me out too.

Weird, I know.

So, as I ponder this week – it happens to be crazy full of stuff – the age old challenge “what can I make for dinner?” weighs on me. Then I remember my upside down Doris – and realize that the cookbook in question is Busy Moms Cookbook.

I’m thinking I better right her up immediately and start cooking!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

I Blame it on Facebook

I really do. If it weren’t for that damn addictive (and I don’t even play Farmville!) social networking site – I’d be blogging much MUCH more.

The thing is, it’s not that I spend that much time on Facebook. Not an inordinate amount anyway. I go for days w/o reading or posting. OK – at least a day without FB – but the matter is not the time spent – it’s what I’m doing there.

Expressing my feelings is what.

All those giddy/profound/pissy or just plain dumb Facebook postings have taken the place of my typical blog entries. Mostly my Facebook postings are little slices of the mundane – “I had the best sandwich for lunch” or “I just took a walk and now I’m a ball o’ sweat” and so are many of my blog entries. But here in this space (swanky space don’t forget!) I don’t have to compete with everyone else’s mundane stuff. And, I don’t have to read the glowing reports of a social event that my peers attended and I couldn’t get to. (Or as it sometimes happens, wasn’t invited to – oh the shame)

So here is for the real good stuff. Or for the mundane. It's all the same.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Quantum Media

There is a phenomenon in the world of Quantum Mechanics called wave function collapse. I can barely understand it, let alone explain it very eloquently, but this collapse seems to occur when wee tiny bits of matter change their patterns of “behavior” during observation. I won’t elaborate on the whole double-slit experiment – but the general idea is that the wee particles or electrons were doing one thing, creating waves and interference patterns – which, by the way, was pretty astounding and confounding. But the even more astounding thing was that when the brainiacs (physicists) decided to get a closer look at the electrons by setting up a measuring device – and then all of a sudden the electrons behaved entirely differently. True story.

So, this is what comes to mind when I am being bombarded by the news media’s sound-bites about whatever is the current event of the moment. Last month it was Tiger’s tales of woe. Before that we had the D.C. gate crashers. And Balloon Boy. And remember the diaper-wearing-astronaut?

Now about Tiger Woods. I’m just as confused and saddened by these developments as anyone else. Compared to so many public figures, he really seemed like someone to admire, to look up to. His whole story, complete with moral outlook is still untold. And yet so many are quick to write him off. Maybe he deserves the vilification, maybe not. But what really gets me is the media’s involvement. A respected Boston radio station ran one of their many polls for the listening audience; “can Tiger Woods make a comeback?”

Hell, I wanted to shout at the radio – “Not after all these stories you keep running!!!!”

And, coincidently, 60% of the responders said that they will not be able to look at Woods in the same way.

Ack, the media has a job to do and all, but when my usual outlets start acting like TMZ, it’s too much to bear. The schadenfreude is clear and getting worse. Oy. I’d ramble on about that, but maybe another time.