Das Mixture

A Small Affair

Opening Line

Marrriage is like pi - natural, irrational and very important - Lisa Hoffman

Last night's Anniversary dinner was absolutely fantabulous. Jaclyn and I started with fresh Asparagus that were lightly breaded and fried, topped with Jumbo Lump Crab Meat in a Chive‐Lemon Butter sauce. This is our standard appetizer at Killen's, and with good reason - it's yummy delicious.

I was tempted to have a salad, but figured I better leave room for dessert. Uh, good thinking. For the main course, Jaclyn had a Center-cut Filet while I opted for the Nueske Bacon-Wrapped Filet, which also came with some grilled Jumbo Shrimp. Cutting through these steaks was like cutting through butter. It just wasn't fair to the beef. Both steaks had just enough char on the outside so that sauce or additional spice was not necessary. Furthermore each flavorful piece just melted right in your mouth.

Then it was on to dessert. Jaclyn opted for the Crème Brûlée (no surprise there) and I chose the New York Style Cheesecake. I like my cheesecake just the way I like my women - naked! Ironically, no matter where I order cheesecake, the waiter/waitress always seem to need to verify that I understand that "naked" means nothing on it. Uh, yeah - that's why I said "naked."

Needless to say, I could not finish my piece of cheesecake. I swear to God, each piece has to weigh at least three pounds. And as good as it was, I could not go on. Luckily, it travels well and will be a sweet, sweet addition to tonight's dinner. Jaclyn, on the other hand, did finish her dessert and paid the price. I had to carry her out of the restaurant because she was in a sugar coma.

Upon returning home, it was time for a celebratory beer. I had my mind set on a Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale, which would have been appropriate for the occasion. Unfortunately, the only bottles that were chilled are part of my 2006 stash. Hence, I opted for the even more appropriate Sierra Nevada Anniversary Ale. Goodness in a glass.

And on to year nine.

Listening to: Lowdown - Boz Scaggs

Last Night's Beer: Sierra Nevada Anniversary

Posted in the heart of the afternoon

 

Random Anniversary Mumblings

Opening Line

Six years and we never had a fight. Except for the time - Oh crap, it's been eight years. And there you go.

Jaclyn and I have been married eight years today and while I would like to do nothing more than expound upon my undying love, is that what you really want to read? Of course not.

Total Randomness

Follow up on yesterday's bacon bit: Now everything can taste like bacon with Bacon Salt. Seriously, is this a great country or what. Wait, there's more, if Bacon Salt is not enough, there's Baconnaise... If I put Baconnaise on my bacon, would my bacon taste more bacony?

If I am important enough I can be assassinated. If not, I  am simply murdered. So would a Mob Hit be an assassination or a murder? Perhaps it's in the context.

Star Wars puzzler. Let me get this straight, Imperial Storm Troopers kick ass all over the Galaxy, taking on all-comers, but then go down to Fozzy Bear's illegitimate children.

Answers Needed

My wife and I have a Hurricane Kit, but don't yet have a Zombie Contingency Plan. Need we worry?

Do dough boys have donuts?

How come my cat's butt goes up in the air when I pet him?

What is the speed of smell?

Changes

The learned and observant probably noticed right away there have been some changes to the blog. Most obvious is the theme. Uh, because I can. I also updated the Posse links to the left; several additions; several deletions. Some folks just weren't updating and the last thing I want to do is send one of my readers to a blog that has not been updated since November 2008.

Hey look, there's a new picture. That's me back when I used to run marathons; back when I used to run; back when I could run. For anyone who cares, that was taken during the Eugene Marathon back in 2007. Sigh...

I also updated my "About" page and trust me, it was time.

Eight

Eight years ago my Dad breathed a sigh of relief. I am pretty sure he was convinced I would never marry, but Jaclyn came along and "saved" me. Hence our union was made a few months before I turned 39. You see, the Good Lord does look out for dorks like me and whether I deserve her or not, I am keeping her. And I have to be happy every time I wake up to find she has decided to stay for at least another day.

OK, there are unwritten rules about the Mush Level of said male's blog, therefore that's all you're gonna get on this, our eigth anniversary.

We're going to Killen's Steak House for dinner. The food is absolutely fabulous. While I am all about the beef, it is pretty much a guarantee that Jaclyn will be enjoying the Crème Brûlée Bread Pudding for dessert (named one of the Ten Best Dishes of 2008 by Food and Wine Magazine).

#47

The horrors! I forgot to mention #47 on the Beer 50 List. This was a Magic Hat #9. The buzz on this brew is that it's not sure what it wants to be, although it is labeled as a "near pale ale." I'll tell you what it is, it's crap. It tastes like something a first time home brewer would make if he didn't quite follow the directions. That's all I am saying.

Listening to: Unforgiven - Metallica

Posted after eight years

Eight Things I Hate About You

Opening Line

No time for an opening line; Jess and Beth tagged me with the Crazy 8's Meme, so here we go:

8 Things I'm Looking Forward to:

1. My knee finally healing so I can run again
2. Tuesday (tomorrow) - our 8th Anniversary and dinner at Killen's Steak House
3. Mini vacation in Minnesota over July 4th Weekend - I threatened I was going back and indeed I am
4. Drinking my 2005 Avery Czar Imperial Stout - It's going to spank my ass and I am going to like it
5. Finally hosting our House Warming - one of these days...
6. Our next Beer Tasting
7. Putting the kayaks back in the water
8. Getting Hawaii on "The List"

8 Things I Did Yesterday:

1. Slept In - if you call 6:15 sleeping in
2. Caught up on the bloggage
3. Moved some dirt
4. Went to BJ's Brew House - uh, drank beer
5. Watched Domino - great soundtrack by the way
6. Considered beating the cat for general purposes - opted not to
7. Made more nachos
8. Watched Legally Blonde to score points with the wife and to look at Reese Witherspoon's ass in a bunny costume

8 Things I Wish I Could Do/Want to Do:

1. Start running again - stupid knee
2. Start brewing beer again - stupid economy
3. Finally have my Bachelor Party
4. Put a deck in the back yard
5. Go back to Seattle on vacation
6. Be wealthy enough to just travel around the country running in different races, bringing good will to all
7. Move my sister (Laurie) to Texas
8. Become the Master of all Time, Space and Dimension

8 Shows I Watch:

1. Pardon the Interruption (PTI)
2. Chuck - will probably be cancelled (Damn you NBC)
3. The Big Bang Theory
4. How I Met Your Mother (although I fear it may jump the shark very soon)
5. Deadliest Catch
6. Better Off Ted (Funniest new show this year - will probably not be renewed; damn you ABC)
7. College Football Game Day
8. Bones (I just recently got into this)

People I Tag to Play Along:

1. Anyone who needs to fill a post
2. Anyone who is bored
3. That guy with the sign at the intersection of Telephone Road and the Beltway - though I doubt he has internet
4. Ashton Kutcher
5. Babar the Elephant
6. Hey Hey It's the Monkees
7. HR Puffnstuff
8. Radioactive Man 

Listening to: That's What You Get - Paramore

Posted for all the net to see

Drop and Give Me 20

Opening Line

Uh yeah, the check is in the mail...

I'm temporarily ruined. I have blasphened the East Coast Time Zone and it has exacted its revenge, causing me to wake up wide at 4:00 AM in the Central Time Zone. If one considers that "when" I used to run, I would get up at 4:30 AM, then it wouldn't be too bad. But I am not running. And of course time passes like a turtle moving through molasses.

Big workout this morning - mainly because I get to stay in town this week and I have weights. Kicked butt with drop sets of a variety of upper-body exercises combined with 150 push-ups.

Joyful Perspiration

Gulf Coast denizens may curse me, as well as those in Florida and the Southern Atlantic States, but I must embrace the humidity now that it is back. Oh joyful days of soaked shirts (and sometimes shorts) have returned and I could not be happier. Granted, my knee injury is preventing me from running, but even sweating to the mowing of the lawn is cause for celebration. I love my sweat, it reminds me of orchids on a spring day. By the way, I do not love your sweat, so just stop it already. The real reason I am thankful for the humidity is that my sinuses will finally return to normal. No more bloody nose because of the dry weather. I am not sure what is appropriate, but I am sure some animal sacrifice to the Humidity Gods is in order. Here kitty, kitty...

Bacon

Last week Vanilla over at Half Fast lamented the BBQ season and the effect it has on his evening runs. I must say that I have no bias against those who run in the evening and I have done so myself on occasion. But really, those evening BBQs, as delicious as they may smell, do not compare to the morning breakfast run. Specifically the scent of bacon wafting through the neighborhood. Let's face it, nothing trumps bacon. Not chicken, not hot dogs, not sauasage links, not even burgers. You see, bacon is not just a singular sensation, it also makes everything better. And of course, the scent is insatiable. Oh sweet little piggy, I salute you for your sacrifice.

The tease of bacon if you will, is much more pronounced. Especially since it has been anywhere from 8-12 hours since you last ate. And uh, hello - it's frickin' bacon! Maple bacon, hickory smoked bacon, center cut bacon, regular bacon, it all smells wonderful - it's the smell of the hope of a brand new day. It leads you into temptation; into considering breaking and entering; into cutting your run short; into going over to the dark side. You would do jail time for bacon; you know you would. You're not doing jail time for a hamburger. In fact, you're putting bacon on your hamburger dammit. 

Listening to: 96 Tears - ? and the Mysterians

Yesterday's Beer - BJ's Porter

Posted under darkened skies

Nachismo

Opening Line

I can make a firm pledge, under my plan, no family making less than $250,000 a year will see any form of tax increase. Not your income tax, not your payroll tax, not your capital gains taxes, not any of your taxes. - Barack Obama

Busy morning today. Actually, I have been busy since I returned from Virginia Friday afternoon. Since Jaclyn is off in Florida, within moments of arriving home I had to dump the kitty litter - damn that sucker can lay down some logs. I don't know what he does while we are away, but geez dude.

Then it was on to mowing the front yard before the rains came (success). Our lawn looks somewhat better, but it's a sad day when the weeds are the only thing growing. Hence, after mowing the lawn it was time to put down some weed killer. A tad worrisome because if the weeds die, there may not be much to our lawn.

The good news is that our cat has become much better behaved when we are away. He used to break stuff. Now he just hurls. Thus, laundry was the next item on the list since he opted to hurl on the bedspread. Seriously, there's tile floor just a few feet away. He also launched three days worth of food just outside the kitchen - on the carpet. Again, tile floor nearby. Stupid cat.

Also gathered up all the trash and the recycleables and set them out. It's not a bad deal when the recycle bin is fuller than the trash. Good for us. There's a host of other stuff, but interest must be waning since you too probably have chores you need to be doing. 

Still on my list is to make all the fixin's for nachos and set the DVR to record the NFL draft. Jaclyn flies in this evening and we have not seen each other for two weeks. And you know, nothing spells romance like Nachos and the NFL Draft. I am definitely getting some action tonight. Seriously, my wife is a football nerd. I mean, several years back she bought a big screen TV just to watch football. Am I the luckiest guy on the planet or what. Take that Brad Pitt...

Rising Water

From last week's rain dance.

 

That tree is normally about five or so feet from the waterline, so as you can see, the water levels are high, but not terribly worrisome.

Listening to: No You Girls - Franz Ferdinand

Posted in the Central Time Zone (woo hoo)

Running and Blondes

Opening Line

Thursday double post - lucky for you!

Sockage

Sure I can't run, but that does not mean I cannot offer unsolicited advice on running. Therefore, you are now in the midst of a conversation about socks. Next to the right shoes, socks are one of the most important accessories in your running arsenal. Personally, I have several pair at varying thickness (Gasp). I know, seems a little wacky. Especially since most people probably find a good sock and stick with it. But as you go through your weekly routine of running, your feet will change in size. And sometimes, that thick ass sock you have is just too much sock. Or that thin sock is not enough. Ergo, the need for socks with varying thickness.

Don't you just love wisdom?

Blonde With A Brain

Earlier this week I caught a few minutes of the Miss USA Pageant while channel surfing in my hotel room. I have to say, based on the outfits and the hair, I thought perhaps I had stumbled on Last Stripper Standing. Really, I mean one stripper pole short of an R-Rating.

Then I learned that Miss California (Carrie Prejean) essentially lost the title because she spoke her mind. Hello? God forbid, that amongst all the fakery at these pageants that one of the contestants actually has an opinion. Someone should arrest her for communism... Oh wait, perhaps it is the communists who don't want her to have an opinion.

Apparently Perez Hilton, a confirmed meat gazer, was upset with Miss California's views on same sex marriage. Um, aren't judges supposed to be impartial? For the record, I don't really care who marries whom as long as they are in love. Seriously, if you are in love with your goat and your goat shows you unconditional love in return - go for it. By the way, my goat does not love me - the bastard.

Flatness

Beth over at Shut Up and Run (an excellent Blog title by the way) was wondering about potential Fall Marathons that would enable her to qualify for Boston. The quote "flat and fast" has been the rage for describing courses for several year now. However, one thing that is often overlooked is the size of the race. If it was my quest to find a marathon to qualify for Boston or to lower my PR, one of the factors I would consider is the number of participants and how the race handles them.

Let's face it, having to wade through crowds of runners in the opening miles is not only frustrating, it can wipe out your race strategy. I am all about a relatively flat course with only a few thousand runners.

London Calling

Kara Goucher (who we defintely need to see more of) finished third in the recent Boston Marathon and was contemplating heading right over to London to participate in the Flora London Marathon this weekend. Unfortunately, she was talked out of it by her coach (Roberto Salazar). I say go for it! If old Jamoosh here can run a half-marathon on Saturday (Disney), a full Marathon on Sunday (Disney) and another full marathon the following Sunday (Houston), surely someone as elite as Kara can do the double - especially when she said she felt excellent after Boston. 

The Great Debate

Opening Line

 

I find your lack of faith disturbing.

Maryland, and thusly the inhabitants therein, is very proud of it's crab cakes. Bordering on rabid fanaticism, in fact. Apparently any crab cake constructed outside the state of Maryland is indeed an inferior crab cake. At least from what I have been led to believe. I have also been led to believe that if I want to taste the best crab cakes on the planet, I am to visit a joint called Stoney's in Prince Frederick, MD. Now I am sure that many establishedments across the state feature the Best Crab Cake ever, but I must fall the voice of the people around me and that's where the guy with the car keys decided to go.

Hence, at the completion of our work day, we battled DC traffic and made our way toward crab cake heaven. Folks, I am here to tell you that the crab cakes at Stoney's are fabulous. I don't know how they do it, but that sucker is mostly delicious, flaky crab and little in the way of cake. It is a darn good crab cake.

But...I fear the good people of Maryland will be more than a little offended when I say the best crab cakes I have ever had are just west of Washington DC, in Reston, VA. Yeah, not Maryland, but Virginia. I am sure I will be looked upon as a peasant or even a heathen, but I must be true to my taste buds. Hell, I am from Texas, what do I know about crab cakes.

I'll tell you what I know, if I want crab cakes I am going to go to PassionFish. Yes, it is an upscale seafood bistro, but damn, their crab cakes just melt in your mouth and they have a nice spice to them. Like the cakes at Stoney's, these bad boys are packed with crab. Instead of tartar sauce they feature fresh lemon chive butter sauce. To be honest, they don't need the sauce at all and could stand well on their own. Damn good cakes. I'm just sayin'. 

44, 45, 46

Without even trying, this week featured brews 44, 45, and 46. Yes, I have been remiss with the updates, but sometimes I must work for a living.

#44 - Old Dominion Lager: A solid lager that stands up well with any dish. It has a malty nose and a surprsing amount of flavor for a lager. A solid B+ in my book.

#45 - Widmer Drifter: An excellent Pale Ale when one doesn't want any of the over the top hop monsters that seem to dominate lately. A citrusy aroma gives way to a slight citrus flavor without too much hoppiness. The hops also don't linger very long so one is ready for another sip. Good stuff.

#46 - Fordham Copperhead Ale: I am not really sure where they were trying to go with this beer. The color is a darker copper, which fits the name. The aroma was meager at best and I had trouble picking up much at all. The taste was surprisingly devoid of any flavor. Huh? I guess if it was a hot summer day and this beer were really cold, there might be some value, but I would recommend passing on this one.  

Listening to: VH-1

Last Night's Beer: Fordham Copperhead Ale

Posted with a view to a quarry

I'm Never Running Again

Opening Line

Gravity: Not an option; it's the LAW!

I woke up Sunday morning with a pain in the knee. Trust me when I say I would rather have a pain in the ass right about now. What sucks is that I haven't done anything remotely intensive in the last week or so. With nearly eight weeks gone since my latest round of treatment, I can only assume that once again, there is failure. And truth be told, I have to wonder if I will ever run again.

It almost feels like a little roulette going on. Hmm, that didn't work, let's spin and see whats next on the Wheel o' Treatment. Seriously, I should have gone for the bionic knee up front...

Water Logged

After Saturday's storm, Houston could very well have stolen Minnesota's moniker, Land of 1000 Lakes. Holy crap, I cannot remember seeing so much water since Allison in 2001. The "pond" behind the homestead finally started receding, but there are still tree trunks underwater two days later. I would have provided a picture, but I am at the airport waiting to fly to Virginia for another week. Yes, I am swine, but I promise, I'll make it up to you.

The storms that rolled through put quite a damper on the weekends Diaper Kegger. But even though attendance was light, still a couple hundred diapers showed up, including a package of Depends. And of course the beer was good, nay excellent (Saint Arnold Amber). Hoppy goodness indeed.

After drinking lightly, I left the party several hours after the storms let up and I was just amazed at the number of cars strewn along the service roads. Let me just say that if you ever visit Houston and it's raining, stay clear of the service roads. I'm not sure who engineered the madness that is the service roads along all of our freeways, but it is a horrible idea, yet apparently an excellent means of retaining water.

Boarding starts soon - Jamoosh is out.

Listening to: the jet wash

Posted knowing the leg of my trip to Chicago is going to suck due to unruly vermin

Booty Kickin' Action

Opening Line

I woke up this morning on a mission. Actually, I woke up far too early this morning (4:55) because we have a needy cat who does not understand the concept of Daylight Savings Time. Dude, it's frickin' Saturday.

Thusly, after scratching the vermin's ears and walking around the house randomly for five minutes just to see how long he would follow me (five minutes), I said "funk it - I'm doin' a hundred." Push-ups that is. And I don't mean two or three sets that total one hundred, I'm talking the full enchilada in one sitting.

Hence, I began my quest by sitting down and catching up on the bloggage. Perhaps I was looking for motivation (you guys suck by the way) or perhaps deep down I was afraid of success. Then I had to watch the Top Ten Plays on Sportscenter. Priorities right? And you just can't rush something like this. Besides, I hadn't had my good, um, uh, poop yet. Again, priorities. Can you say hydration? OK, now I am just putting this damn thing off.

The first sixty were easy. Well, as easy as sixty push-ups can be. I regularly crank out sixty push-ups during a standard first set, so from a mental stand point, sixty is a relatively easy hurdle. The most push-ups I have ever done in a single set was seventy and I know for a fact there was significant help from the Beer Gods that day because they thought is was 5:00 in the afternoon, not 5:00 in the morning. As I progressed through the sixties the shoulders were feeling it and on any other day, I would have saved myself for additional sets. But this day, no additional sets.

By the time I reached seventy push-ups the triceps were ready for a nap - a long nap - and my rhythm was gone. I had hoped to reach eighty push-ups and beyond before I got the shakes, but not this day. To make matters worse, my plank position was starting to suffer as well (apparently I need to do more core - actually, I need to be more cosistent and do more core).

In the low eighties I had officially reached the point where I am doing push-ups one at a time. At 87 push-ups I thought I was done. How can 13 pu-sh-up-s be that hard... They can be that hard and they are not going to be pretty. The arms are like rubber and I'm not helping myself because I feel my butt rising too high and have to bring it back down, which just requires more effort.

As I was pushing through the nineties my body must have looked like a bridge during an earthquake. You have no doubtably seen the grainy black and white footage of wobbly spans making an "S" out of a straight line and concrete buckling before falling into the water below. Yeah, that was me. But this bridge would not buckle and when 100 arrived it was not some half up or half down push-up, it was as good as the first, it just took five times longer than the first one.

So there you have it. I am not sure it counts for much since it was not an "official" goal. But milestones can be fun.

I don't need it, but I certainly deserve a Bacon/Cheese Whataburger for breakfast. And thus it shall be.  

Listening to: What I Am - Band of Skulls

Last Night's Beer: Sierra Nevada Torpedo

Posted from the waist down  

Dead Buffalo

Opening Line

 

While working in Northern Virginia this past week, Scott and I decided to get our wings on and found a joint called Buffalo Wings Factory. Heinosity reigned as I can only assume that someone broke in and not only stole their spices, but their hot sauce too. One would expect that sauces with monikers such as Suicide BBQ, Fire n' Ice, and  911 (yes, we tried them all) would at least bring a sweat ball or two. Only the Suicide BBQ registered and it was minor at that.

No really, after the break in, we called 911 and our sauce answered...

These very well could have been the worst chicken wings on the planet; a smack in the face (beak) to the poultry that gave their lives for the better good.

Doggy Style

On the other hand, my weekly two and a half hour layover in Chicago (Midway) isn't too bad because there are several locations that I can get an authentic "Chicago Style" hot dog. And these dogs are pretty darned good. In fact, the only thing better than a darned good "Chicago Style" hot dog is a chili dog done right. Damn, I am getting hungry all over again.

Fools

Departing from our unscheduled food theme, I bring you excellence in the security line at the airport. Specifically, excellence on the part of me, which, all things considered, may not (should not) be too surprising at all. If other business travellers followed my example, they too could be a model of efficiency.

Very quickly, your laptop bag goes through the x-ray first, followed by your laptop in one container and your shoes (and coat) in the second container. After the x-ray, throw your laptop bag over your shoulder, pick up your laptop like it's a pizza box, set your shoes on your laptop and your coat on your arm and move to the nearest chair. Bang - you are through that fast and people who were in front of you are still standing at the end of the conveyor belt putting themselves together.

Perhaps I should be a Dictator of a small, meaningless country. Perhaps.

Random Observation

Moments ago, what I can only describe as "scary" walked by. My guess is that in her younger years she would have been considered a "strumpette" but the years have not necessarily been kind and unfortunately the mode of dress has only gotten worse, thus giving her full fledged hoochi mama status, if indeed your Grandmother dressed like a hoochi mama.

Her skirt looks like that gold shag carpet from the 70's and would be much more flattering if it was ankle length or even knee length. The blouse is pink (fuschia to you females out there) with sequins that look more like fish scales than anything. Apparently numerous balding gophers died for the pelt around her shoulders and the knee high boots can only be lizard butt skin. Unfortunately she feels pantyhose are optional. Finally, I hate to be mean but really, there comes a point when make-up becomes a detractor.

People watching is fun. 

Listening to: The wah, wah, wah, wah, wah of the airport speaker system

Last Night's Beer: Stella Artois

Posted at Gate B18