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Standard Bronze Wins the Gold
I can’t write anything about Thanksgiving without beginning with gratitude. Working in the field of addiction treatment I see first hand the power of that emotion, those thoughts and actions, allowing acceptance of present day realities as a platform for a better life. I saw a meme going around happiness doesn’t make you grateful, gratitude makes you happy. There’s a lot of truth there.
Nonetheless Thanksgiving takes it on the chin as a celebration of colonial imperialism and a day devoted to gluttony and excess. I was chatting with an individual of Native American extraction who asked about my holiday plans and after sharing them I asked after his. He said he wasn’t making a big of it because it didn’t have positive associations for him as the whole thing turned out. I couldn’t do anything but apologize. Another friend rails against Thanksgiving like its an abhorrent thing and his angst ridden pseudo-suffering seems more like an excuse to judge. I could do nothing but ignore it.
For me, a fan of both family and community and cooking good food, its a day to be celebrated without limits. I am a fan of what I call “the good life”, living well but in harmony. I wanted to make a feast but without promoting things that I find abhorrent. And with the able assistance of my housemate Kevin we cooked the shit out of this Thanksgiving with local sustainably raised stuff and put out a feast we could be proud of.
You may recall the cooking began last week when I made chicken stock out of the bits and pieces of my roasting chicken I had made the open up room in the freezer. I also got my shopping done but only because Kevin made a couple of trips to the store so I could add a few things.
Tuesday I picked up my bird. I had ordered an heirloom turkey at the Root Cellar a couple weeks back and learned they would do first come first serve at 10:00 but I had already booked a 2 hour 9:30. I wanted a big one under the mistaken notion that females are bigger and you get more white meat. Actually when I looked up the particular on the Standard Bronze I ended up with I learned males are bigger which makes a lot of sense when I think of it.
Regardless, my friend Gretchen had agreed to pick it up for me at 10:00 and I drove to her place on my lunch hour. Helpfully, Fresh Air was replaying a segment from 1987, I think, with a food chemist on how to roast a turkey. She said brine it overnight with a cup of salt, 2 cups for giant turkeys and more if you use Kosher salt. This is of course for fresh birds only. Corporate birds are pre-brined of course amongst other things in their little plastic shells.
The show had just gone on to touch on the trickiness of getting the thighs & legs up to 155 degrees without overcooking the breast when I got to Gretchens. I considered hearing her out but I was on my lunch hour and still had hopes of getting lunch. Apparently Terri Gross is pretty attached to this segment so maybe I’ll catch it next year but I made a note of the phenomenon and got my bird.
I had to give Gretchen more money because it was a mammoth thing at 21 #s and at $7.50 a pound it was a chunk of change. A considerable chunk of change. But for good reason. Turkey farming is tricky being willful birds prone to total die offs for more then a couple reasons. Bobtail Whites, the 99.9% turkey of choice is sedate and unnaturally big breasted to the point of not being able to bread without a turkey baster anymore. They can fly and get into more mischief and you factor in inputs and risk and no externalized costs (corporate turkeys pollute the water, eat commercial corn with all of its issues, and are charnal houses of horror that diminish the souls of everyone who devours them) and they are appropriately priced.
To live in a world of small family farms we have to pay more. Right now Americans only spend 7% or so of their income on food. Cheap food is expensive to the planet, the farmer, and our communities. Europe spends around 10% and I think in the Philippines they pay 40%, some countries are higher. Regardless of all that it was cool enough to leave the turkey in the car until after work when I threw it in the fridge.
Wednesday morning I pulled the Rouge Vif D’Etampes Pumpkin(AKA Cinderella pumpkin) off the front porch, washed it good, cut it in half, scooped out the guts and baked on a cookie sheet with some water and pumpkin spices (just to scent the house). I roasted the seeds (greased cookie sheet with olive oil, sprinkle with Bob’s Steak Seasoning [corporate seasoned sugar/salt Dad bought]) which were not numerous but big and juicy and they came out good.
I cooked the pumpkin until it was soft, could’ve been softer, peeled and mashed and beat. I had promised Kevin I would blend it when I offered to prep the pumpkin vs using the canned variety but I was already overwhelmed by the pumpkin mess I had so far for a before work morning, even on my late day. {I just made a second pot of coffee for this cold and rainy Saturday morning, its a medium roast South Seas coffee I roasted last weekend, oh so delicious, and the 2nd press pot is such a luxury.}
Wednesday night I brined the turkey. I did it in the bag and added a cup of salt (1/2 canning salt, all I had), water and all the ice in the freezer (and they laughed when I threw the rest of the bag in the freezer at my last Summer party). After thinking about it and the pasture raised turkey being a little tough last year I added another 3/4 cup iodized salt (all that I had). The radio lady said it could be crusted on, you just got to rinse it good.
I put the bag in a bucket and the bucket in the basement/garage (I am blessed with a split level new readers). Then I realized I didn’t really know how to cook a turkey. Up until this year my method was to say “Hey Mom” or later “Hey Dad, how do you cook a turkey again?” This is why grief is intrinsically a year long commitment. You never really know what someone means to you until they’re not there and you have to experience the loss.
With my mom it was pickles. Thinking of the seasons it must have been 6 or 7 months after she died, I know I wasn’t thinking of it every day anymore, when Amee, my wife at the time, was talking to her mom about her making pickles. It hit me like a thunderclap, I would never again eat my mom’s pickles and I just started crying.
But thank God now orphans have the internet and Whole Paycheck, though lacking any other parental quality reminded me of the particulars of roasting a turkey. I see why they hold the 1 spot on Google as it was easy to find, well organized and comprehensive. They recommended less salt in the brine but I was undaunted because you don’t make a lot of money selling salt but you do selling “healthier” food. (You always have to factor in the economic angle of who is providing your information). They did mention you are supposed to pull out the squishy things which I had forgotten to do and pulled them and the sizable neck out of Tom’s yahoo.
I think we do our birds at 350 1/4 hour per pound and Whole Paycheck said 325-375 so I felt good about that. On the breast up or down debate they split the difference with an hour of down and flip it so you get the best of both worlds, juicier breast and crisped up skin. Cover it with foil but uncover for an hour, which Kevin suggested half the time covered, half uncovered, under the theory you can always cover it back up if it gets done to quick as I had been bouncing my research off him as he wrapped up his first day of solid cooking.
Thursday I got going on the turkey around 7:30. I pulled it out of the ice water and rinsed it good and gave it an hour to get rid of the chill before going into the oven which both Kevin and Whole Paycheck recommended. It took me near that amount of time to deal with it. I carefully went over the pretty thick skin and pulled out feather pieces. Bronzes are notorious for this I later read and this turkey lived up to it. Knowing it was intrinsic to the breed made me feel better. After laying out a ton of money I was kind of expecting perfection.
I also rubbed the bird with olive oil and stuffed with a quartered orange (Kevin’s idea) that had been hanging in the fridge for a while, left over fresh herbs (parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme) Kevin had bought for the dressing with some marjoram and oregano from the garden. I also shoved in a few pieces of celery, heavy on the leafy part and a few whole cloves of garlic.
I added a pint of seasoned chicken stock and 1/2 bottle of an Italian white wine. I didn’t pre-heat the oven on consideration of the letting the turkey get to room temp made me think a gradual rise in temp was better. I folded in my turkey and wrapped in foil on the bottom rack because that’s the only way it would fit. Got her going at 8:30 as planned.
I made stock out of the neck, organs & folds of skin from the neck end and the ass end and I threw in the ass as well. I added marjoram and oregano and mace and set that to simmer for 4 hours.
Kevin helped me flip the bird and yest that pun was used which was a little tricky but wooden spoons up both ends did the job. 1/2 hour later and a 1/2 hour later I basted again. At its weight I was anticipating a 5 1/4 hour cook time with checking it a 1/2 hour early recommended by Whole Paycheck I pulled the foil off. Before then Kevin had made wing tip booties to keep them from getting over done.
The breast got nice and bronzed early so we put a piece of foil over that. We checked the temp in the crook of the thigh and we got 155 at 12:30 and pulled it out to rest until carving.
The dark meat was strong tasting, almost gamy and was hard to carve. The white meat was incredibly delicious. Juicy and intensely flavorful, I couldn’t have been more pleased. There was a layer of subcutaneous fat and the thin was thick so it wasn’t particularly edible but you shouldn’t be eating that stuff anyway. There was some integument I’ve been cutting out and tossing to Fido as well but I suspect that’s the cost of doing business with having birds that walk around and lead a life.
Reviews were very positive, it was a fine looking bird and people liked it. It was part of an excellent meal with a great assemblage of interesting people and was a pretty nice Thanksgiving. In addition to the turkey I also did mashed potatoes; red new potatoes with the skins on mashed with butter, whole milk and sour cream and sprinkled with minced wild onions (the fall crop is in, if you get them early they are like a more pungent chive, much better in my opinion).
Kevin did an array of from the basics with foody flair and put over 16 hours in the kitchen in two days. The guests brought some wonderful items as well leading to a colorful array of delectable morsels. Kevin paired the meal with a Stone Hill (out of Hermann MO) Norton that was excellent, dry and flavorful. We probably were easily pushing 90% local for the spread and it tasted like it.
I would like to tell you about the party and I may but I’ve been writing this post for days and my coffees getting drunk and I am wanting to get about my day three of a a four day weekend. A trip to the store, some house cleaning while I have momentum and its getting to be Christmas tree time, perhaps tomorrow.
Occupy 40 MPH – a successful protest
Occupy 40 MPH – a successful protest. Old Jules rocks!! and i was lucky enough for him to stumble across me. I must be living right.
everything bread
got a slow move on sunday which was nice but didn’t get my lawn mowed. slept in read the ever diminishing newspaper [sighs] and drank john’s excellent light roast guatemalan. i’m a big believer in easing into the day. if everything goes higgily piggilly at least i got this time in to relax. then made breakfast with this honey cured bacon out of Hermann that was pretty tasty, thick & meaty with a couple of the stanton boy’s eggs (the yolks were a particularly violent orange) & toast. i also sliced my heirloom tomato which was as good as it looked. next year i’m doing more heirloom tomatoes i’m heavy in red hybrids this year with 3 kinds and only one black plum (which is looking good). it was looking like rain so i put things away and took the lids off the compost containers.
then the tiger game came on, playing the giants who’ve been tough. great pitching early on but the tiges prevailed. john has been watching the games caught up in nostalgia no doubt. its a slow game though and by the ending innings i was outside weeding the roses between innings. allowed me to catch the storm blowing in. got very windy and the trees were bent over. i’ve been trying to be more aware of spiritual things for a group. it was very easy standing in the wind feeling a part of everything.
a little knowledge…
Eschatology fascinated me as a teenager. It suited my imaginative fantasy driven outlook on life from reading a lot of science fiction, fantasy, mythology, all that stuff. end of times just faded right in. i was rooted in all kinds of books 666, hal lindsey, that weird anti-catholic guy who did the Chic Tracts and bunches more. Then I plunged into the original sources. i had read it all when i plowed through the bible in eighth grade but i went back to the prophets and tried to make since of all that stuff. revelations it was mind blowing. It was also all a little bit scary. i remember in middle school during gym there was a fire drill and there was an impending storm with black roiling clouds and the feeling of electricity in the air. I wondered if if was the end. I don’t have to tell you it wasn’t, it was a storm.
I read more and more for a few more years and was always scrounging books at garage sales. i read some of the older ones and they were dated and the world was supposed to have ended. i found them all the way back to the fifties decade by decade wrong after wrong. i found one in the library from the fourties. it seemed more real, more to fit. I read some history and the millenialists of the year 1000, of the 19th century, in fact every generation has thought they were likely the last generation.
I thought the restoration of the state of israel and man’s new power to destroy the earth made our generation special. israel has been here for 63 years and the ability of man to destroy the earth 66 and it hasn’t happened yet. i looked into one of the books and checked back to their scripture on the israel thing. its a verse about figs. Vague fear mongering seems more likely to sell books, draw attention, and baffle the young and gullible and perhaps the mentally ill. and yet the prophets mean something don’t they?
In some sense they serve as a warning to make the most of every day. to treat it like it could be your last even if you are young and healthy. the promise of the return is part of what makes jesus jesus. but if i know jesus at all the return won’t be like anything anyone in the established church is saying, or how else will they all miss it, and i guarantee they will. they always do or we wouldn’t need divine intervention.
i think talk of an antichrist and a mark and such reminds us of the continual threat of totalitarianism. when one man controls all power to buy and sell there is total control and it is indeed time to flee to the mountains and prepare for the rivers to run with blood. i believe there will be a narrowing and consequences for our misbehavior, my god we’ve broken the weather. spurned the gift of a functioning biosphere and poisoned what we’ve given. katrina, might have been a warning, did we heed its warning. not some simplistic anti voodoo and drunkenness nonsense, i am talking about the sin of destruction. i can see seeds of the apocalypse, but also seeds of the beauty that is to come when we come to our senses and start living right. we’ll get sustainable or we will die by definition. my vote is for life and i choose every day to look for the signs of hope so that i can nurture them. that i can light a fire or provide a little air, a little fuel so it burns brighter and it spreads and throws its light and its warmth and its cleansing.
chilly saturday
it was a pretty good saturday, rainy and cool, but after a taste of the heat and humidity it was kind of welcome. we’ve had an extra dog for a few days, a short term fostering kind of thing. he’s a scottie that we’ve been calling Gitmo. he’s uncut and pushy so he was running the pack for a couple of days, then they all started calling his bluff. shadow (my brother john’s aussie) kicked his ass john reports. even fido isn’t intimidated now and smoky has been pulling back her lips and snapping her jaws at him. he’s mellowed out now that he’s settled in. we were worried how he’d do with max the uncut old pit next door with only a dilapidated chain link fence between them but they got along fine. max is mellow. Gitmo likes to fetch and with smokey and fido in chase it gets pretty chaotic. fun though.
got out early to run errands and go to the market. saw an old client walking in the rain and gave him a bit of a ride. he was taking a bicycle riding class to earn a free bike. gotta love columbia. it was drizzling a bit but stopped before i made it to the market. stocked up on my local food stuffs. had to go up to a quart on the honey so i could get it in a glass jar. hard to eat a quart of honey before it stiffens, but we’ll do our best. listened to an older lady rave about bee pollen and the suburban type lady standing next to me asked if she ought to get a jar as well. i just shrugged. he had some literature out, “nature’s most perfect food” that i’d seen as place mats a truck stops of my childhood looking largely unchanged. the honey guy, a german immigrant by accent, talked about the vagaries of pollen collection its variance based on flower availability and some years the bees only make enough for themselves.
noticed chicken and beef up substantially, probably following the prices in the grocery store. got some ground round and whole chickens. going to bake one of the latter today. planning on stuffing it with lemon and apple wedges and sage, oregano, tarragon, & wild onions from the back yard. maybe some little pats of butter under the skin. throw in some red potatoes and cauliflower the side. also unfroze some extra pumpkin i froze and baking a pie.
and of course i got my spring veggies, chard, lettuce mix, asparagus, bean sprouts plus eggs. also trying marjoram again, going to ameliorate the soil a lot more. don’t want to pay $3.00 every year. i learned marjoram is kin to oregano and almost bought a cross between the two, but i have more oregano then i can eat already and put it in damn near everything.
after my errands i made chili. nothing better on a wet and cool day. i forgot to soak beans so i had quick soaked some pintos (boil for one minute, let set and hour or so, drain out liquid [less gassy]). i put them on to cook with some red curry powder, salt and cayenne and made john and me some poached eggs and cleaned up some of the strawberry seconds ($2 quart best deal ever) i got for desert.
when the beans were mostly done, chopped up some stew meat smaller and browned with vidalia onion and celery. added some canned tomatoes of various types, a can of kidney beans, chili powder, cumin, jalapeno, some smoked hot peppers, smallish onions with green tops (from the market they’re getting bigger every week), and a little agave nectar to soften the bitterness of the tomatoes. set that to simmer all day, came out good.
hung my clothes on the line even though it was cloudy and cool once i saw the rain was likely done. they’re still out they’re, i’ll bring them in after the wind blows out the morning dew. sarah and trevor came over and we drank a little champagne with strawberries (cleaned up the rest of my seconds and added a cup of my own, more then i expected for only the second pass). after chili and cornbread (thanks kevin, excellent) we went on a field trip to an abandoned mobile home park trevor had eye balled from the highway. the dogs enjoyed the excursion as well. we took a roundabout way home and it reminded me of explorations of childhood.
3rd best drinking water in the world
its been a really beautiful saturday. started it with a really good papua new guinea light roast from Kaldis. very yummy and read the paper, such as it is in this brave new world. kevin and i went to the market and got lots of great stuff: spinach, mixed salad greens [has little baby bok choy], asparagus, arugula (a smaller package a little goes a long way), and some other salad stuff. also got a pack of orange marigolds for the tomato patch and a Patric chocolate bar. hit them up for info on slave labor in the harvest of cocoa and they said only on the Ivory Coast and they don’t buy from there. i got a frequent buyers card in case they’re good. also got some apple butter.
stopped by nancy’s garage sale fundraiser and it was nice seeing everyone gathered for a good cause, got some books (mostly for work), some lavender dryer sachets, and wrapping paper. made steal cut oats in the rice cooker with some raisins. john was unimpressed so i’ll probably work them out of the rotation for the foreseeable future as kevin’s not much of a breakfast guy. though he is into the local bacon i also got at the market this morning and am going to make up tomorrow with some grits and eggs over medium.
it was beautiful weather wise and got two loads of laundry done on the line and managed to finish digging out the bed by east side of the house. i’m out of finished compost so i just added coffee grounds. the dirt there was pretty decent so they’ve had some stuff there before but its been a minimum of 6 years since it was worked. there was a lot of maple tree roots i had to dig out. i dug up the lilies i move every year out of the front yard and planted them around the perimeter and then put in 8 brusel sprouts [thanks erica who sprouted them from seed and even delivered] . i think they should look cool together and i am hoping to use the lilies to keep the dogs out. i’ve got a couple more brussel sprouts i am going to weave into where the strawberries fade out buttressed by more lillies. gonna put in the rest of the lillies inaround the most dog trampled strawberries. speaking of one of them is pretty red so i should have my first one in a few days or so. can’t wait. i almost bought a $6 pint of them at the market but decided to wait for my own. got many gallons last year and there are more so i am optimistic.
my neighbor henry flagged me down while digging up lillies and gave me a couple of forsythia bushes and lopped for me. after seeing the ungainly clump that i put in the ground a few years ago from him he must’ve figured he’d better just do it for me. his yard is looking amazing, really coming along. i’ve got a fair chunk of stuff to get in the ground, wouldn’t mind mowing my lawn but will probably wait on that.
john has all three rain barrels operational now, hopefully. he added a washer and it seems like we’ve got it now. we walked through the garage and talked about an organizational plan. john has been knocking out the projects. he got a dog waste compost set up in the back corner of the yard that is really great. buried a garbage can surrounded by rocks with holes in the bottom. add poo until there’s enough and then added 1/3 of a package of septic tank conditioner. “i’ve never bought a bottle of bacteria before”, john said. has a lid. might move the hydrangia out into the new dirt pile by the composter to make room for the second of mom’s rose bushes. it will be nice to get them in the ground on mother’s day.
be kind to our one big mother, you know the one with oceans and stuff.
then i cooked dinner. parboiled crocker apple brats also from the market in Flat Branch brown ale, made red potato packets with red onion, and asparagus packet with baby garlic, green onion, a little tomato, lemon juice and a little olive oil. also did a nice salad and kevin got brat buns which were very festive. i served it with my first batch of sun tea with green tea and a bag of ginger.
i got a little too much sun but it was probably good to try to adjust to the coming heat. spring has been wonderful but summer temps are rolling in.
YOU MUST BE FROM TOLEDO IF!
I got this in a chain email from my uncle mike and made me a little nostalgic.
YOU MUST BE FROM TOLEDO IF!
You get tired of hearing about Katie Holme’s love life.
You refuse to call it Westfield Shopping Center, because we all know it is really Franklin Park Mall.
You would freeze your butt off walking around The Toledo Zoo at 10 degrees because you want to see Christmas lights in the shape of animals.
You know what Meijer is.
You don’t ask, “What is that smell?” or “What is on Fire?” if you are on the East Side.
Your visiting Cedar Point is a tradition dating back to your elementary school years.
You have a favorite room in The Toledo Art Museum.
You can name three bridges that cross the Maumee River .
You know who Danny Thomas and Jamie Farr are.
You have gotten a ticket in Ottawa Hills.
You graduated at the Stranahan or the Peristyle.
You know the names of a local boxer and a local famous ice skater who were in the Olympics.
You get disoriented when you go east of Sandusky and the road starts to go up and down.
You know who says, ‘Turtle!’
You know what “Everybody’s Zooing It” means to you, and you can sing the song, weird accent and all.
You saw a giant, neon-colored, plastic frog sitting on the sidewalk is nothing unusual.
You remember that Ottawa Park used to be the only places for ice skating and sledding!
You know where the original Tony Packo’s is and you know what type of food famous people sign.
You can name at least three “Wood” streets in the Old West End.
You have been to a Mud Hens game, and you know what a “Mud Hen” is!
You have a mayor who decides to change the fire hydrant color.
You know all the words to the Erie Street Market jingle.
You know that your hometown has more restaurants per capita than any other city in the USA .
You know at least one person that worked for Jeep.
You think having all-girls and all-boys 4 Catholic High Schools is normal.
You have ridden an elephant, a panda, a buffalo and a turtle.
You know Major Magic’s was way better than Chuckee Cheese.
You know that the Toledo Storm is not the first hockey team Toledo had, and remember the names of the others!
You know who Opal Covey is, and want her to run for mayor again, just so you can watch the debate.
You remember the tunnel that used to go to the zoo and you jumped on the metal hatch at least 6 dozen times.
You go to food festivals, German, Polish, Irish and other Ethnic Groups, even if you aren’t of that nationality.
You know why Toledo is known as the ” Glass City .”
You know what the “Peach Section” is.
You remember Topps, Rink’s Bargain City and Kresge’s for inexpensive purchases before there were dollar stores.
You remember when Perrysburg and Sylvania were farm country.
You remember when a guy from Boys II Men got married to a girl from Toledo .
The mentioning of Telegraph Road conjures images of adult bookstores and strip clubs.
You can pronounce Monroe, Secor, Maumee and Conant correctly.
You’ve watched Fourth of July fireworks synchronized to the music on WIOT.
You realize that the town of Oregon and the state of Oregon are pronounced differently.
You know who Blizzard Bill Spencer is. Double points for remembering Charles Merlin Umpenhauer.
You can name three suburbs of Toledo that contain the letter “v” in their names.
You lived close enough to a public high school to hear the sound of air horns in marching bands from your back yard.
You know how to pronounce Paszki and eat one every Fat Tuesday even though you don’t like jelly rolls.
You know end of town you are in when you smell General Mills Cereal, Wonder Bread or Hunts Tomato products.
Ending up in Michigan, after taking a wrong turn, does not incite panic because it’s like going across the street.
Before the malls, you went to Miracle Mile and Westgate if you didn’t go downtown.
You know what people are talking about when they refer to Dixie Highway .
You know where to find “The Colony,” “Trilby,” and “Point Place” even though they aren’t on a map.
You know at least one person who remembers Tiedtke’s.
You will always call MUO “MCO” and your parents will always call UT “TU.”
You can explain why the Maumee is brown and it doesn’t have to do with pollution.
The Centennial Quarry evokes feelings of swimming like a seal or dancing like a ballerina.
You know what they are referring to when they sing, “There goes another one.”
You know what school someone is from when someone refers to them as a Frannie or a Johnny.
You own at least one piece of Libbey Glass in your home.
You move to another city and wish you had a Library System like the one in Toledo.
You know that Spring Meadows has nothing to do with spring or meadows.
You remember when the Big Boy on Secor disappeared.
You saw your first rock concert at The Sports Arena.
You remember those affordable chiropractic commercials where the guy always played the guitar.
You can remember the Mummy being in the Egyptian room at the museum.
You know that the girl in the Missy Elliot video is named Alyson Stoner and is from Toledo.
The candidates for most elections are a party-endorsed Democrat and a Democrat running as an independent.
You know where to go to listen to Music Under the Stars.
You know that the Best place to buy corn and strawberries has always been at Monnettes’ Market!
You can correctly answer the question on the Trivial Pursuit Millennium Edition, about naming the mayor of an Ohio town that wanted to pass legislature to have all the deaf people moved out by the airport.
“I believe I am a Pattern”
With the blizzard outpatient treatment shut down and most of the staff couldn’t make it to work. Since I live a block away I still got to go in and mostly do groups for the inpatient guys. Doing six hours of group in a couple of days it really gave us a chance to bond and it allowed me to get a pretty good idea of people were at and for them to get on board with a lot of how I view the world. We have a great crew right now but with a heavy dose of agnosticism which can be a problematic belief system for folks struggling with recovery. Bill Wilson wrote a whole chapter on it. I have never been satisfied with the conventional approaches for this population. I think there can be a lot of power in doubt and I also think the Universe is big and wonderful and worthy of respect, as well as being widely believed in, and is often what I propose for those in search of a higher power to grant them serenity and keep them sober. So I descended into the dangerous world of metaphysics. I structured the presentation around a poem which has twice previously appeared in this blog, faithful readers may remember. But I noticed I had added another stanza. So here in its entirety is what I would consider the last really great poem I’ve written. With exposition people can hang with it. Ask questions if you don’t understand.
I believe I am a pattern, a pattern of information
Built from millions and millions of simplicities
Organized through emergence, I arise up from the bottom
I am many, but still I am me.
I believe I am a pattern, a consciousness construction
Will, sense, imagination, memory
And though I surely rise up from my body
I am much more a story
Told in the hearts of everyone who knows me.
I believe I am a pattern, a pattern set in motion
In oscilation with the tides
Not just the ocean, but the universe besides.
In every mind’s eye there is a cup
It’s not the one from which i drink, but its close enough
Occam’s Razor cuts, simplest is the best
Is my idea of cup unique from the rest
Or do we all drink from the same cup after all.
For I believe I am a pattern, a process not an object
Like pendulums swing together when they’re on the same wall
My heart beats to the rhythm of the One and the All
And I am subsumed in the One
For I believe there is a Pattern….
more thoughts on inclement weather
I love blizzards and all weather related events. Largely we have created a society where almost all of us are seriously estranged from not only each other but the natural world. We live in boxes and get in smaller motorized boxes to get to the boxes where we spend the day. The seasons have been defeated as all boxes are at 71 degrees. But the blizzard puts the lie to this actualized piece of false consciousness. Everything is realer today. I enjoyed pretty much having the road to myself. Saw some other walkers, all jubilant, the young couple seemingly needing to justify their appearance in the wild that “the inner child got the best of us”. When did enjoying the day outside require justification? Maybe it was justified for being in the street, when the big red pick up truck roared up the road, the rumble of its engine covered by the neighbor’s snow blower speeding down the hills with no way to stop for unseen pedestrians because he needs the momentum to get up the next hill to do it all again. That is alienation. He could have killed me but there was no human feeling or contact like i had with the other walkers, even the snow blower guy. I was just an obstacle. It could have been a video game, the whole beautiful world, which includes me cut out in a window box. the guys in group wanted to get out and experience the blizzard. they were envious of my windblown face and wicked grin from being out and about in the big world. just remembering it makes me tingle, a peak experience i can feel behind my eye lids. you can only be so real in a box. we are broken and have been broken for so long we don’t even remember what it feels like to be whole. but the blizzard teaches us to marvel. it puts our plans in proper perspective. it reminds us what is really important; living each day, staying warm, respecting the natural world. I said in a group that i liked to go walking in inclement weather because it thins out the crowd. i think i learned that at old man’s cave where you can only enjoy it in solitude when its raining. i feel like fido and i own the bear creek trail when for days its just our tracks. we own it like the squirrels own it, like the deer. we need to start breaking through the artificial barriers we create to keep from having real experiences. we need to do more to fix the stuff that’s broken. we need to get out of the box before the box gets more in us. peace. remember registering and commenting on the blog is forever/facebook is transitory and mark zukerburg or whoever owns your words.
The Cost of Distraction: What Kurt Vonnegut Knew (via The Frailest Thing)
spoiler alert this is a complete summary. i really learned a lot from Kurt Vonnegut, read him early and his surrealism really informed both my sense of the absurd and my fondness for multiple realities. i think i gave a workshop at a conference he was supposed to key note but i may have conflated him with someone else, but as Vonnegut shows it doesn’t matter, life is story. I like this analysis on having all the problems of a tyrannical regime taken upon ourselves through our own poor choices. be present. be real. listen in the stillness.
Multiconstruct 
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