On Slate.com's Political Gabfest, Mr. Plotz asked why so many Republicans wear Van Dyke beards. I'm no expert but...
Here's why I wear a "Van Dyke" beard-
1) I'm overweight - As I gained weight over the years, my neck slowly took over and destroyed my "chin line", that natural line that shows where my neck ends and my face begins. I hide the fact that the line is missing by having a beard that specifically says- "My chin is right here!" or at least- "this is where it used to be".
2) I look young when my face is bald - I once read that Andy Warhol prematurely dyed his hair grey in order to appear older. Apparently, youth was not something that was helping him get taken seriously in the art world. It seems, currently, there is a movement towards natural grey hair, but I have a feeling that there are a number of folks that don't want to really appear old, just more "serious". When I shave off my beard, I seem to get ten years younger - everybody I know tells me as much. I have a feeling that there are a lot of "baby faced" gentlemen that need a beard so they don't have to hear "shayna punim" (or whatever the gentile equivalent is) whenever they walk into a room.
3) Van Dykes were hip twenty minutes ago - In the late eighties I had a pony tail. I'm sure a lot of the people that you see with Van Dykes were the same type of people who wore pony tails in the eighties. They are under the illusion that they can look "business" and still be "edgy". This is the same mistake a lot of people with mullets made.
Now, as to the question- Why, specifically, the Van Dyke?
The Van Dyke beard is a well maintained beard- its shape instantly shows that the wearer cares about their appearance. When I grow more of a beard, I start to look like Bluto from the old Popeye cartoons. Very few people actually want to look like Bluto.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Eric Ericsson's Fish Company
On friday, Carole and I drove up to Ventura for the Harvest Festival. If you don't know, the Harvest Festival is a nomadic craft expo featuring "home made" food, furniture and fun. I picked up some banana jam, triple berry jam and peanut brittle. Carole picked up a nice hat, a few gifts and half of the brittle I'd bought.
Right near Harvest Festival was a fish restaurant that we've been wanting to try, Eric Ericsson's Fish Co.
The view of the ocean and pier were lovely and the food was slightly better then it had to be. We started off with the ceviche and chips, which were nice enough, although a little bland.
We then moved on to the main courses- Carole ordered the Salmon Club, hold the bacon, and I went for the Jalapeno Fish & Chips. As we sometimes do, we split the meals in half and shared. The salmon was cooked perfectly, if a little small for the bun (not height, width- the two halves weren't equal, I ended up with a bad fish to bun ratio). The sandwich was served with a nice, sweet coleslaw that had pineapple chunks in it. I liked the coleslaw a lot more then the Salmon Club.
The Jalapeno Fish & Chips were great. They'd put diced pieces of jalapenos in the fish batter, which gave a pleasant kick that really added a lot. Also, the slight heat went well with the sweet coleslaw that came with the Salmon Club. I think that if I was doing the meal solo, I'd order the Jalapeno Fish & Chips with a side of their coleslaw, it worked that well together.
I thought the dessert we ordered was mediocre, though Carole liked it more. It was a Polynesian Roll- which was Cheesecake, caramel and banana wrapped in dough, fried and coated with cinnamon and sugar. There was also a drizzle of caramel sauce to finish the dish. Sounds great, right? Meh. It was sweet, sure, but that's about it.
Right near Harvest Festival was a fish restaurant that we've been wanting to try, Eric Ericsson's Fish Co.
The view of the ocean and pier were lovely and the food was slightly better then it had to be. We started off with the ceviche and chips, which were nice enough, although a little bland.
We then moved on to the main courses- Carole ordered the Salmon Club, hold the bacon, and I went for the Jalapeno Fish & Chips. As we sometimes do, we split the meals in half and shared. The salmon was cooked perfectly, if a little small for the bun (not height, width- the two halves weren't equal, I ended up with a bad fish to bun ratio). The sandwich was served with a nice, sweet coleslaw that had pineapple chunks in it. I liked the coleslaw a lot more then the Salmon Club.
The Jalapeno Fish & Chips were great. They'd put diced pieces of jalapenos in the fish batter, which gave a pleasant kick that really added a lot. Also, the slight heat went well with the sweet coleslaw that came with the Salmon Club. I think that if I was doing the meal solo, I'd order the Jalapeno Fish & Chips with a side of their coleslaw, it worked that well together.
I thought the dessert we ordered was mediocre, though Carole liked it more. It was a Polynesian Roll- which was Cheesecake, caramel and banana wrapped in dough, fried and coated with cinnamon and sugar. There was also a drizzle of caramel sauce to finish the dish. Sounds great, right? Meh. It was sweet, sure, but that's about it.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Waiting for something new
Okay, so I never got my new site off the ground. Big surprise, I'm sure.
I've decided that I'm just going to go ahead and use this blog for a while. The new direction that I planned on taking my "blogging" will just have to happen right here.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
The End of Things
Well, this will be the last post on this site for me. I've been working on a new site that'll be going up within the next month or so. Why, you may ask, are you shutting down this perfectly good site to start another? Go ahead. Ask.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Stencil Art
For some reason, I'm really interested in stencil art right now. I've got small accent stencils on the walls of my living room, but they are floral pieces that are just there to look pretty. I'm thinking about putting an artistic piece on the back of my garage. I'm not sure what it's going to be, but I have a feeling that it'll be influenced by Banksy. Probably going to be a dog though, not a rat.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Vladimir Propp’s Character Roles ~
Propp was a scholar that analysed the basic components of Russian folk tales. Here are the broad character types that he presented in his book, "Morphology of the Folk Tale".
1) Villain: Fights with the hero. Involved in a pursuit.
2) Donor: Provides the hero with a magical agent.
3) Helper: Often accompanies the hero. May reappear to help at critical moments.
4) Princess: She assigns tasks to the hero.
5) The Father of the Princess: Often is hostile to the hero. May also assign tasks to the hero.
6) Dispatcher: Often a parent. The one who causes the hero to set out on a quest.
7) Hero: The one who departs on a quest. The one who reacts to the testing of a donor. The one who performs tasks and usually marries and becomes wealthy.
8) False Hero: Pretends, unsuccessfully to have done the things that the hero has actually done.
1) Villain: Fights with the hero. Involved in a pursuit.
2) Donor: Provides the hero with a magical agent.
3) Helper: Often accompanies the hero. May reappear to help at critical moments.
4) Princess: She assigns tasks to the hero.
5) The Father of the Princess: Often is hostile to the hero. May also assign tasks to the hero.
6) Dispatcher: Often a parent. The one who causes the hero to set out on a quest.
7) Hero: The one who departs on a quest. The one who reacts to the testing of a donor. The one who performs tasks and usually marries and becomes wealthy.
8) False Hero: Pretends, unsuccessfully to have done the things that the hero has actually done.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Another post from my reason for living...
Ix,
You big sweetie. You posted my last note, and I'm sure you haven't even thought about how to describe the Enoteca San Marcos debacle, so here it is from my side of the table.
First off, the disengenuous charm of the Venetian indoor canal, with the poncy shops and faux everything, including elegance. Appalling tourists from all over Europe. You were right, there are more Eurpoeans there than anywhere else on the Las Veas Strip. Better dressed than their Minnesotan counterparts, but equal in bad manners.
We sat overlooking the piazza and stage. Kevin (or Scott, it was one or the other) was a distinctive waiter in that he had more aftershave than personality. Fresh-faced, towheaded with sad teeth, he looked about 17 but was really 28. He spoke with the patronizing authority of a sous chef only without a speck of credibility. I found myself wanting to order something he didn't like just because he lacked even the appearance of judgement. Pleasant enough, if you weren't allergic to the scent. Probably an Italian designer fragrance.
Never mind that, or the busboy who bought himself an iPhone only to have to return it when his mother bought him a Blackberry, what matters is the cheese. First course, they brought a beautiful trio of condiment jars and spooned out our servings of whole cherries in brandy, sliced apricots in white wine with chilies, and truffled honey. Then came the cheeses.
My oh my. First, a young fresh goat cheese, the 2 month aged Coach Triple Cream. Then the rightly called "King of Cheeses", Parmigiano Reggiano, a cow's milk cheese aged 21 months. Lastly, the magnificent Rosso di Langhe, a brine washed cow and sheep's milk cheese from Piemonte, fully aged and perfectly pungent, providing a crescendo of cheesy goodness.
Downhill from there. The nondescript escarole and walnut salad with pecorino. The Fritti Grande, which looked so good on the menu was just fried stuff with too much rosemary oil. Risotto balls, stuffed zucchini flowers, pizza dough fingers, seafood, and the fried mozzarella and anchovy sandwich that you called a "fish doughnut". At least the sandwich tasted good, and not like rosemary oil.
Escape from there, quickly. Because our final stop of the trip was the best of all. Bouchon Bakery, hidden next to the theater which inexplicably houses "Phantom of the Opera". There we each had that little miracle, it tastes like a fresh Parisian croissant opened up and filled with a blob of Chicago-style cheesecake (more caky than New York cheesecake and not as sweet, just right) and topped with two slips of sugared lemon rind--- which they absurdly call a "cheese danish". Your pot de creme infused with wild mint and covered in milk chocolate was just as epiphanically good. So much so that I once again find myself grateful that the most delectable pastry and sweets we have locally aren't anywhere near that standard. Our health and safety would be at risk otherwise.
Ciao bello, thanks for posting.
Flo
You big sweetie. You posted my last note, and I'm sure you haven't even thought about how to describe the Enoteca San Marcos debacle, so here it is from my side of the table.
First off, the disengenuous charm of the Venetian indoor canal, with the poncy shops and faux everything, including elegance. Appalling tourists from all over Europe. You were right, there are more Eurpoeans there than anywhere else on the Las Veas Strip. Better dressed than their Minnesotan counterparts, but equal in bad manners.
We sat overlooking the piazza and stage. Kevin (or Scott, it was one or the other) was a distinctive waiter in that he had more aftershave than personality. Fresh-faced, towheaded with sad teeth, he looked about 17 but was really 28. He spoke with the patronizing authority of a sous chef only without a speck of credibility. I found myself wanting to order something he didn't like just because he lacked even the appearance of judgement. Pleasant enough, if you weren't allergic to the scent. Probably an Italian designer fragrance.
Never mind that, or the busboy who bought himself an iPhone only to have to return it when his mother bought him a Blackberry, what matters is the cheese. First course, they brought a beautiful trio of condiment jars and spooned out our servings of whole cherries in brandy, sliced apricots in white wine with chilies, and truffled honey. Then came the cheeses.
My oh my. First, a young fresh goat cheese, the 2 month aged Coach Triple Cream. Then the rightly called "King of Cheeses", Parmigiano Reggiano, a cow's milk cheese aged 21 months. Lastly, the magnificent Rosso di Langhe, a brine washed cow and sheep's milk cheese from Piemonte, fully aged and perfectly pungent, providing a crescendo of cheesy goodness.
Downhill from there. The nondescript escarole and walnut salad with pecorino. The Fritti Grande, which looked so good on the menu was just fried stuff with too much rosemary oil. Risotto balls, stuffed zucchini flowers, pizza dough fingers, seafood, and the fried mozzarella and anchovy sandwich that you called a "fish doughnut". At least the sandwich tasted good, and not like rosemary oil.
Escape from there, quickly. Because our final stop of the trip was the best of all. Bouchon Bakery, hidden next to the theater which inexplicably houses "Phantom of the Opera". There we each had that little miracle, it tastes like a fresh Parisian croissant opened up and filled with a blob of Chicago-style cheesecake (more caky than New York cheesecake and not as sweet, just right) and topped with two slips of sugared lemon rind--- which they absurdly call a "cheese danish". Your pot de creme infused with wild mint and covered in milk chocolate was just as epiphanically good. So much so that I once again find myself grateful that the most delectable pastry and sweets we have locally aren't anywhere near that standard. Our health and safety would be at risk otherwise.
Ciao bello, thanks for posting.
Flo
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