Christianity Running Rampant

txrad, who has been unemployed now for 13 months, saw a job posted he really wanted to do. It involved feeding raw foods to people trying to cleanse themselves. Christians specifically.

Raw food for Christians. Is anyone else allowed to cleanse?

txrad told me tonight that he didn't apply because of a faith statement about The One which was required.

I said, "fuck, that's easy."

I continued, "Well, just say He (the One -- not Keanu) would have been appalled about Guantanamo Bay, waterboarding, the war in Iraq, and any number of other things, and see where that gets you."

If they are really Christian and they are trying to heal, they won't hold it against you that you aren't a Christian and that you are more Christ-like than 90% of Christians.

We just won't say that part. And maybe you won't get to serve raw food for cleansing to anyone except yourself.

Go for it. Nothing to lose reallly.

There's gotta be a raw-food vegan atheist joint around here somewhere that's hiring queers.

Selling My Soul to Robert Johnson

I didn't post today except at Black Soap, and that's likely to be the trend if today is any indication.

Just wanted to pop over here because it's Robert Johnson's birthday, a fellow Taurus, and blues god. I can't let this one slide since he basically influenced everyone who gives me goose flesh.

Blister in the Sun

True change begins when we can reshape the horrendous attitudes possessed by some of our youth, and of course that's a direct reflection of the parents in most cases.

I caught a few minutes of Bridge to Terabithia tonight and I can honestly say it reminded me of the attitudes of many Americans, especially voters.

In other words, one particular kid in the classroom annoyed the hell out of me.

Leslie Burke: What if you don't have a TV?

All: [laughing]

Leslie Burke: My dad says that TV destroys brain cells.

Scott Hoager: Your dad doesn't know anything. We watch TV like every day!

Leslie Burke: I rest my case.

Mrs. Myers: Well then Leslie, you could write a report on something else.

Scott Hoager: Yeah, like how to live in a cave!

Some people just never grow up after adolescence. That was but one example. There was another annoying little red-headed brat that needed a good thumping.

txrad and I started talking about school and he mentioned that study hall in his school was a reward you had to earn. Wow. What a contrast to the pathetic little all-white Christian academy I attended.

Study Hall: It's what you do to the kids when you don't have time or resources to teach them.

Then I brought up university life. Not all colleges are equal; that's for certain. I spent a bit of time bouncing back and forth between the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville and Little Rock trying to figure out what I was supposed to do with myself. College was a bit of a jolt for me. With each campus having well over 10,000 students, life was different. The adolescent behavior which was present throughout high school did not exist here. (Well, not in the classroom; dorm life and frat houses were another matter!) Suddenly I bore responsibility for my life. Everyone, including myself, had to make new friends.

What I really wanted was to experience some life outside of Arkansas for a change. So one semester I had applied and was accepted at the University of Denver. What a colossal mistake. I'm not saying it's a bad school but dorm life was a big contrast to my previous experience. My roommate was this New Yorker, the son of a cop if I recall, and he had a bad-ass attitude. And he smoked pot.

If you are wondering why I'm complaining about that, keep in mind that I was still emerging from a very conservative upbringing and I was still trying to make of myself what I thought other people expected of me. I had no clear directives and felt adrift. I realize now what I was looking for was less responsibility; I wanted to be guided and I wanted a strict environment that would not allow me to deviate. I had also dragged along some conservative emotional baggage from home and I wrongly assumed that since the University of Denver was affiliated with the Methodist Church, it would be a place far from home yet familiar.

Not only was I unpleasantly surprised by my first impression of the students I met upon my arrival, but the cafeteria food sucked. And that was the last straw. I called my parents and told them I had to leave, and I painted a rather unflattering portrait of the school in an effort to diminish any resistance I might face from my parents. I can't imagine how many thousands of dollars they had to scrape together to get me enrolled.

I packed my stuff, got in the car and headed back to southeast Arkansas. I will never forget the sense of relief I felt as the Denver skyline faded from my rear view mirror, and later, the front range of the Rockies would fade, leaving me in the barren rolling plains of eastern Colorado and a whole lot of Kansas ahead of me.

When I arrived back at home with my parents I felt lost and faced a lot of uncertainty. It was late in the first week of January and the prospect of a wasted semester fueled my anxiety. As luck would have it, and I use the word luck very loosely here, the University of Arkansas at Monticello wasn't starting their spring semester until the following week and getting admitted there was pretty easy. Best of all, the campus was only 30 miles from where I lived with my parents, so I could commute each day and save money on housing costs.

I was not thrilled with this outcome because this was not a large school -- probably about 2,000 students -- and the majors offered were very limited. But since I was still a sophomore and taking only basic required classes, it didn't matter.

My first week of classes was an eye-opener. Talk about a contrast! If what I wanted to find was the familiarity of high school, I hit the jackpot. The students here all seemed to know each other and many of them didn't seem that serious about college. The professors were also noticeably more like the high school teachers I'd known.

It became clear to me that one semester of this was going to be quite enough, and in the summer or fall I'd return to either Little Rock or Fayetteville and try to get serious again. I don't remember which campus I went to first, but as before, I bounced between the two of them before finally getting the easiest possible degree in Liberal Arts, with the least amount of effort, and after nine years of being in and out of colleges. My parents must have been proud of me after squandering so much money on a degree which was worth about as much as the parchment on which it was printed. (It's in a drawer around here somewhere.)

To cut a long story short, all of this was flashing through my brain last night after catching a few minutes of the aforementioned film which, ironically, we shut off in order to watch another high-school themed film, Rocket Science.

It was just last week that I mentioned having seen The History Boys and loved it. In the comments, Minstrel Boy recommended Rocket Science.

There's nothing like the feeling of seeing a film and immediately looking forward to a 2nd viewing. As one who was definitely an outsider in both high school and college, I could relate to this film on so many levels.

It's also just quirky and offbeat enough to score valuable bonus points which will rank it pretty high in my list of memorable independent films. And the use of music was brilliant. If you have seen the film, I'm sure you'll understand why I selected the title of this post, even if it took me a while to get to the point.

Grating On The Nerves, But Fascinating

txrad found this via Crave: The Singing Tesla Coils!

Yes siree, and from right here in weird Austin, Texas...

Crank it up for maximum effect. Kind of makes me feel all sizzly inside.

(Credit: ArcAttack)

Simple Obsessions

Christina Pirello is the author of cookbooks and has a cooking show on PBS called Christina Cooks. txrad has been watching it for a few weeks and it's quite entertaining. She prepares vegan meals using whole foods and natural ingredients.

The attraction for me began when I saw Christina pull a wooden spoon from a drawer and I experienced love at first sight. Not for Christina, but the spoon!

We had a very nice wooden spoon which txrad would use to stir-fry toppings for our pizzas and I broke it one day while scrubbing it in the sink. Being unable to find a suitable replacement I finally bought a plain cheap wooden spatula to use until I could find my dream spoon. The spatula is ugly and rough; it offers a very unpleasant feel in the hand and has absolutely no charm. I'm surprised I haven't gotten a splinter in my fingers yet.

I had tried to send an email to Christina but it came back undeliverable. Last night we were watching the show and once again she whipped out that spoon and my lust went into overdrive.

I raced to the computer and began searching on the internet using certain keywords which I hoped would yield the desired results. Bingo! On Christina's website, there is a sidebar column with a section titled "Things I Love" with a link to "People and Things." As I frantically scrolled through the list I was suddenly confronted with a section labeled "Jonathan's Spoons" with a link to another website.

Voila!

Those of you who know me know I am prone to oddball antics. I tend to get excited by things which others might view as being.... um... queer. Odd. Seven bottles short of a 6-pack.

I have my own theories about the art of cooking. It should be a sensual experience, not simply a chore in order to have a delicious meal when you're done. The utensils should be a delight and fun to use as should the cookware. I am thoroughly satisfied with our tools in the kitchen but the absence of a favorite wooden spoon had created a gaping hole in the sensuality department.

Finding a source for these spoons as well as others was the most exciting thing to happen to me all year. More importantly, there are two retailers right here in Austin which carry Jonathan's Spoons. I will be heading out later today to fondle them all and hope to return home with the object of my lustful desire: the "spotted slim spoon." And then I shall find something to cook.

To quote Jerri Blank, just looking at this spoon makes me "moist as a sponge cake down there."

A World of Commonality (And Some Strange Coincidences) + Some Elton and Betty White - Who Could Ask For More?

What could a man who grew up on a farm in southeast Arkansas, and a man of Norwegian ancestry who grew up branding cattle (among other things) in western North Dakota possibly have in common with a woman who is a Croatian refugee and a man from Holland who is a software/mechanical engineer?

Read on. This may be of interest to no one but myself, by the way.

One of the aspects of life which fascinates me so much are the strange little twists and turns and the discoveries that perhaps none of us are really so very different. We all have our life experiences and when they entwine with those experiences of others, it's a joy, if nothing else.

I don't remember how I discovered Nicole's photo blog, or what endeared me to it. But I've had her on my blogroll for at least a year. Perhaps it was because she was living in Amsterdam, a city I love, and I enjoyed her photographs of her daily life, the street scenes, and the cafes. Plus I have a fascination with the Dutch culture and language.

When I lived in Denver in the late 80s, prior to moving to California, I had a job at a university bookstore. The university had a lot of students from Holland, and it seemed as if most of the employees in the bookstore were Dutch. Being a language buff, and having studied a bit of Dutch on my own, I began to make friends with many of my co-workers. While they spoke fluent English, they would often converse among themselves in their native language. I began refreshing myself on the language and while I was never able to speak more than a few sentences, I think my friends were impressed that an American was taking the effort, particularly since it wasn't necessary. I was better at reading and writing in Dutch.

After I moved to California, I kept in touch with a few of them for about a year, and I still have a postcard and a letter written to me in Dutch after a couple of them had returned to Holland.

This of course is not the reason I was fond of Nicole's blog because she didn't post in Dutch; it's just a small part of the connection. Perhaps it's my attraction to Virgos. Before I met txrad I knew the love of my life would be a Virgo. So I wasn't surprised that he was one. I tend to get along with most Virgos pretty well. And Nicole is a Virgo. Vincent, her partner, is also a Virgo. Virgos all around! And Vincent is a native of Holland and therefore speaks and writes Dutch. Rather fluently I would assume.

A few months back, Nicole announced that they would be immigrating to Australia. My first thought was that I'd really miss the pictures of life in Amsterdam. Later I was quite excited to learn that they were moving to Adelaide, one of two cities in Australia for which I have always had a strange fascination (the other being Perth) which is odd considering I know nothing about either place, and have never been to Australia. Oh well. Life is full of oddities. But I was certainly looking forward to pictures. (By the way, shortly after moving, Nicole and Vincent flew to Perth to visit friends, so I got to see some pictures there as well, and it did nothing to diminish my intrigue.)

Upon arriving in Australia, I noticed that Vincent had started up his own photo blog, and around the same time, I had been inspired to dedicate my Black Soap blog to personal issues and photography after having enjoyed Nicole's for so long. I began reading their blogs more regularly and leaving more comments, and vice-versa -- in short, getting to know them a bit better.

One interesting fact I learned is that Adelaide and Austin are sister cities. The coincidence is that txrad and I had been together 7 years when we moved to Austin, and Nicole and Vincent had been together 7 years when they moved to Adelaide. Ahhh, you've got to love the numerology! Seven is probably my favorite number.

Nicole also worked for an advertising agency in Amsterdam. I work for an advertising agency in Austin. Surprise! Another coincidence. Now that we are all blogging back and forth, I learned that Vincent has a map fetish. So do I. I also learned that Nicole likes to meander slower through the supermarket. So does txrad. I'd rather wait outside. So does Vincent. But let's get to the larger coincidence.

Carlos Vamos and Andy Salvanos are a couple of musicians. Carlos is a musician they knew from Amsterdam. Andy is a musician they recently saw performing on the street in Adelaide. Here's the coincidence directly from Nicole:

So we tell Andy how much he reminds us of Carlos and Andy actually knew who Carlos was! And then by freak coincidence Andy found my blog and wrote a message that Carlos flew in from Amsterdam and is playing here in Adelaide for about three weeks!

And this reminded me of a coincidence of my own involving street musicians. (Hey, I never said this post was going to be short!)

When I was living in Little Rock prior to moving to Denver, I lived in the central part of the city -- a bit more eclectic than the suburbs. One of my favorite sights was the guy who lived near me, and rode around on his bicycle carrying a guitar and wearing a sombrero. His name was Elton White.

He hooked up with another local eccentric named Betty White (coincidentally; she didn't take his name I guess!) and they married and started performing together.

Fast forward a few years to Los Angeles after txrad and I had moved there from San Diego. I'd been gone from Little Rock for 2-3 years and had no idea Elton and Betty had moved on to some fame.

txrad and I were were walking down the street in our Hollywood neighborhood when we spotted a couple who would tend to catch your attention. It was Elton and Betty! I rushed up to them, introduced myself and txrad, and told them how I knew them from Little Rock. They had moved to LA to pursue fame and fortune and were performing regularly on Venice Beach.

They also were starting to attract some media attention as well. The fact that they briefly ran for political office while in Arkansas might have encouraged the attention. Elton ran for a seat in Congress. Betty ran against Bill Clinton in an Arkansas gubernatorial race. Her one and only issue was to lower the age of consent to 14. She lost, obviously.

I hadn't thought too much about Elton and Betty after we moved from LA 10 years ago. After reading Nicole's post, and realizing the vast wealth of knowledge on the internet I decided to take a look and see if I could get caught up on the dazzling duo. And I succeeded.

Betty White died in 2004. That makes me sad. BoingBoing actually had a post about them in May of this year. So did Honky-Tonk Dragon.

In the early 1980's, Betty was a more or less normal, married secretary in her late 50's/early 60's at a Little Rock law firm (allegedly working with Hillary Clinton) with a slight psychiatric problem for which she took medication. At some point, though, she stopped taking her medication and experienced a psychic and sexual renaissance of grandiose proportions: out with the husband and respectable job, in with the matching hot pink hair-do and spandex pants.

Elton, meanwhile, was a much younger (30 years younger, to be exact!) man renowned in Little Rock for his phenomenal basketball skills until the day he claims someone "put something in his drink." Elton met Betty in a homeless shelter, and it was love at first sight. The two were married and became notable Little Rock eccentrics, playing music all around town while sometimes delivering newspapers on the side.

Part of me wonders if Carlos Vamos or Andy Salvanos ever crossed paths with Elton and Betty. That would be too much of a coincidence. I'm just glad that Nicole's coincidence and subsequent post about it reminded me of my own, and that I am able to share a little more kona magical moments.

Rest in peace, Betty.

I'm happy I got to meet you once upon a time in Hollywood.

Pass The हुक़्क़ा Hookah Please

Via cannablog, possibly the best blog name ever.

I long for the day when I have too much time on my hands.