Merry Christmas

I hope everyone had a good holiday. We did. I told the kids earlier that this wasn't going to be the year last year was. No big surprises, but everyone would be satisfied. They were wonderful. Each received hoodies from us and a little something extra. They were happy with that. When I passed them each a movie case, they were very surprised. Especially when they tore the paper off and saw that each case was a disk case for Boston Legal, year 2. "Ah, Mom," Ed said at first, "Boston Legal is your thing. Not mine."
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"Then, I suggest you open the case," I told him. All three popped them open at the same time. That's where I hid the Target gift cards. I guess I really did surprise them. I didn't spend near as much as earlier years, but I was able to get more bang for my buck.

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Before that we had dinner out with C&D and the family. That was good. We talked quietly and without getting silly for a change. The place we went was not a favorite of any of ours, and how we wound up there, I don't know. It must have been the only place open on Christmas Eve. The only eventful moment happened on the way out. I should point out once again, that Chicago was blanketed by a sheet of ice. I'm not kidding when I say it was six inches deep in some places. Bill tried as hard as he could, but could not break any of it up. After falling last Monday, I've been terrified to go out. Here we are exiting the restaurant Christmas Eve. There was a path about five foot in length leading to the parking lot. Bill brought the van up as close to the walk as he could. I hung onto other cars and the van in an attempt to make it in the car. My sister in law, D., is assuring me that I would make it. As she's saying it, her own feet came out from under her and she landed on the ground. She got up and made to her vehicle. At this point, we haven't heard otherwise, so I assume she's all right. I hope so. Poor D. goes down everytime she walks by a Dunkin' Donuts. Truthfully.

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Anyway, at this point I'm required to say that if you are sensitive to talk about body parts, trade this for another post. This is about to get silly. Before starting I should point out that I have this thing about body parts. They have medical names. I mean I can understand the use of words like bowels or fingers as compared to intestines or phalanges. I can't understand words like worm or Johnson bar. I mean it's a penis. A vagina is a vagina and not 'down there,' or 'under there,' or a 'monkey.' It's a body part with a function and it has a name.

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Okay, so back to Christmas Eve.

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Ed, Becki and I got in the van with Bill while Jon and Gloria got in their cars, and headed home. Gloria needed to stop for work pants as she ripped hers at work that day, and had to work in the morning. My heart ached for her, at least until I heard Jon had to go to work Christmas Day and would miss my family's celebration.

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Anyway, we're on our way home and Ed started his usual. He's like an evil 8 year old. His sister is in the back seat with him and he has to start something just because she's there. Before too long, he's poking and she's screaming at him and I'm screaming at both of them to just shuttup. Then Becki in a fit of aggrevation, tells him, "Shuttup up you freakin' queef."

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"You hear what's she called me?" Ed demanded.

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"What's a queef?" I asked.

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"What do you mean what's a queef?"

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"What's a queef?"

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"Seriously, Mom. You don't know what a queef is?"

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"No, what's a queef?"

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That started the pair giggling.

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"What's a queef?"
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Ed said, "If you don't know, I can't tell you."

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"Becki, what's a queef?"

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"Ah, if you seriously don't know, go to UrbanDiction.com and look it up."

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"Tell me. What's a queef?"

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Finally, between fits of giggles, Becki tells me, "Ask Jon when we get home. I want to see his face."

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At that moment, Jon called me. We had just pulled up in front of the house, and he was on his way home. "What's a queef?" I asked.

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"Mom, a what?"

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"A queef?"

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"Where did you hear that word?"

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"Your sister called your brother a friggin' queef."

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The two in the back seat laughed even harder. Bill is giggling, although I"m sure he didn't know why. And Jon is giggling. And finally Jon tells me, "You should slap that little girl in the mouth for saying something like that." And everyone is giggling.

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Jon and Gloria arrived a few minutes after we did. Once inside, my three are looking at each other and still giggling. Jon told me again. "Slap her. Slap her." The other two are covering their faces and laughing into their hands.

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I finally looked at Gloria. She was bright red. "A queef," she said, "Is when a girl passes gas, and she doesn't pass it from the back, but... ah, from the front..."

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"You mean to tell me that you people are acting this silly over a vaginal fart?" Gloria was embarrassed and my three are still being silly. The only thing I can think of at that moment is that a vaginal fart still stinks.

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Everything seemed to be happening perfectly. Then Jon dropped a load of bricks on me. "Got to work tonight," he said Thursday morning. "Have to go to Kalamazoo." I thought he was kidding. All week long he had been held up because either his truck was being worked on. When he hit those deer the week before, they damaged the grill. When he returned to work Sunday night, no one had bothered plugging his truck in. It needs to be kept warm as the night was subzero and everything was freezing up. As I said in an earlier post, he was given another truck and sent off to Kalamazoo early Monday morning. He was run off the road on the way back. All week long after that he had been in and out of Indiana and Michigan, and not making any connections. It was just too cold. A storm hit early on Tuesday and he was caught up in it again. He didn't make his last delivery. I was disappointed because I thought he'd have a four day weekend. He wasn't suppose to work Wednesday and Thursday, and Friday and Saturday are his normal days off. No, he was told, he had to be in on Thursday to make that last stop. So we went to my brother's house and he stayed home.

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The next time we heard from him, he was parked along side the road. Another storm blew in on his return and more ice pummelled the road. Friday morning there were people sliding around all the roads and accidents right and left. The entire Indiana tollway, all 134 miles of it, was closed down because of the accidents. And where was Jon? Sitting along side the road, 20 minutes outside of Gary, unable to move because he had no traction on the ice. He was still on the tollway. That was 5AM. The sleet turned to rain and eventually the roads thawed. Jon made it home by 11.

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It's been raining steadily since then. There are still ice patches out there, and a few tornado warnings. More than anything, the roads are flooded. What a winter.

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Oh, and I'm very happy to report that Ed finished his first semester at U.C.L.A. (the University Closest to LaGrange Avenue) with one B and 3 A's. Not something he was used to doing all through grade school and high school, so you know he's telling everyone who bothers to ask.

A Really Bad Week

This past Saturday, George and husband, Patrick, has closed off what they could of pre-Christmas deliveries. They will pick up again afterwards. My husband and children were out collecting can goods, money and making deliveries, too. I'm glad that this was planned this way. Otherwise we would have been closed down by freezing rain, sub zero cold and mounds and mounds of snow. I haven't left the house since Saturday night. And that is a story in itself.
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I'll pick that story up early on Thursday morning. My second child, my over the road truck driver, ran smack into not one, but two deer. Jon was traveling a rural highway in Illinois when they just leaped in front of him. He said it happened so fast, he never saw them. He came home soon after that because he had to have the grill on his truck repaired. He was shaken, both because of the damage, and because he is an animal lover. I think too, he might have been afraid of getting the same hell we gave Ed last year when he was assaulted by a deer when he got off at the wrong bus stop. I should point out that deer are at record highs this year and last.

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Gloria's family held their annual Christmas party on Saturday night. Jon was instructed to bring desert. So I stopped at the bakery where I used to work and ordered him an atomic cake, apple strudle and strawberry shortcake. Early Saturday afternoon he took off for Park Forest, which is way south of here. Gloria's family rents out a church hall every year because the family is so large. Jon and Gloria were instructed to set up and clean up afterwards.

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Okay, so the party ends and everyone left. He and Gloria cleaned up as instructed. Then Gloria took his keys and started his car. Then she locked the keys in the car.

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Jon called home. "Dad, can you drive out here and bring my keys?"

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Now Park Forest is one of those towns where I honestly beleive the designers should be castrated. Yes, I meant that. Castrated. This is a beautiful town, built shortly after WWII. It was an experiment in which black and white could live together in harmony, and it works. My complaint is that the idea makers next handed the planning over to these idiots who think it is so nifty to place cul-d-sacs in the middle of no where, and curvy streets that don't make any sense. They take odd angles and cut back across each other, change names when they cross main streets.

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There's a lot to be said for algebra and plain old fashioned grid plans. There should be a zero point. In Chicago it's State and Madison. All streets should be numbered consecutively in all four directions. Here in this area, main streets are four blocks apart from north to south, and 8 blocks from east to west. It's easy. I'm at 11500 south and 3200 west. How hard is that?

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Saturday night Bill told me to get dressed warmly because I would keep him company. We stopped for gas and had problems getting up the drive. It was icy and we spun our wheels. Once gassed up, we headed for the expressway. I-57 south is mostly a level above the ground. Now Bill was sorry we dropped off our last load of can goods. We needed the weight, because the wind threw us about like fluff ball in the dryer. It didn't snow so much as pick the snow already on the ground and blasted it back at us. When the wipers pushed it away, what little salt was left in the snow stained the windows. It was hard to see through the windshield, and really frightening. We finally got off some ten miles south. Conditions improved immediately.

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Bill told me to call Jon on his cell phone so he could give us directions to the church. Jon's phone was dying. He called me back on the church phone and said to use that once we turned off the main drag, which by the way was named Main Street. Gloria got on when I called back. She said turn right here, and left there, and yes, avoid that small street that curved off in the other direction. It was confusing. Twenty minutes and two wrong turns later we found the church. We weren't parked before the kids came charging into the brutal cold towards us.

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"Mom, you wouldn't believe it," Jon told me once we got him in his car and we were back on the road. "We were by ourselves in the church waiting for you guys. No one was in the church. And there were these footsteps. And they were so loud, too. And all this banging. And we couldn't find anyone. We finally watched a movie on my laptop, and turned it up as loud as we could...."

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And then yesterday..... Oh, crap, what a night. He had to be to Gary by 2PM. He sat for 4 hours waiting until someone got his truck started. The mechanics were suppose to plug it in to keep it warm after working on the grill. They didn't do it. Finally someone offered him another truck and sent him out, headed to Kalamazoo. Bill and I both balked. A little earlier we had watched the news coverage on 100 car pile up on I-90 in Monroe County, Michigan. How close that is to Kalamazoo, I don't know. It's just one of those bad feelings came over me. Us. Both of us. That was about 11PM on Sunday night.

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We next heard from him at about 5AM. He had dropped his load in Kalamazoo and was headed back. He was in the left hand lane. Behind him a pick up truck was closing, doing about 70. Jon moved over to avoid him. The guy threw a ton of snow into Jon's windshield. He couldn't see the road curve. When he called next he was sitting in a ditch along the side of the road, waiting for a tow truck. He said he took out a sign, too.

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He came home directly after rather than sleeping in Gary. He was exhausted. I fed him and he went right to bed. Even though he had to return, I knew exactly how he was feeling. After getting the hell scared out of you, there's truly no place like home and family, and being around the people who love you the most. He's back to work again, and should be home tonight or tomorrow morning. At least I know he went off with enough sleep and a couple of nutrious meals under his belt.

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We heard from him a few minutes ago. He's still on the road from last night. He said the expressway ahead of him is closed. Poor kid. Please say a prayer for him.

Saturday Six - Episode 245
Tag: Saturday Six — Patrick @ 12:15 am

1. On an average year, how many days before Christmas do you generally finish your Christmas shopping?

Ten days. I usually only shop one day a year.

2. Is the economy making you spend any less on gifts this year, or are you spending about the same?

Less.

3. What part of the Christmas scene do you find the most chaotic? What part do you generally worry most about?

Preparing for Christmas in my house is chaotic more because we are part of a charity. We work very hard at that.

4. Take the quiz: What Movie is Your Christmas Most Like?

What Movie Is Your Christmas Most Like?--> Your Christmas is Most Like: Miracle on 34th Street
Sweet and caring, Christmas is about helping for you.While Santa may not exist, you try to share his spirit.

5. What Christmas movie is your favorite? White Christmas

Which one is your least favorite? Miracle on 34th Street

6. What Christmas tradition from years past do you miss the most now?

I prefer the Christmas I created for my own family rather than the Christmases we had as children. Although there is one holiday celebration I miss. Usually after visiting with the inlaws on Christmas Eve, we'd go to my Mom's house and exchange presents with my family. I miss being with my Mom.

Crap. CRAP! CRAP! CRAP!

Oh, I had such hopes for this year. Early on something said that I needed a back-up. Bill is not healthy enough to take on my responsibilities in the Angel group. He's been a tremendous help, and frankly I don't think I could keep up without his help. But there's no way he could do it on his own.
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One of my responsibilities is to pass out penny jars and collect their contents once a week. I set it up so that Bill would drive me, and Ed would accompany me into each business. I did this primarily because I didn't want to have people watch me empty these jars and walk off by myself with no protection. It's worked well. We walk into a place, Ed and I, and I empty the jar into a bag, replace the bag and the two of us walk away. We pass the bag to Bill. He empties it and gives it back. Ed and I then either walk or ride with Bill to the next location. Now last week Bill said to me, "Take Jon instead." No, I told him I wanted Ed because everyone has seen Ed at my side. If something happens to me, they'll know they can trust Ed. As I'm saying this, I'm thinking, 'One week left. What's going to happen?'
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Call it a premonition or call it coincidence.
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Monday Chicago was hit by an ice storm. Should I leave it there? Okay, I'll take one more step. It kicked my ass good. One step too far and I landed on the ground. Ed helped me up. Just barely. I can barely walk. I'm not sure if I have a severe sprain, or if I fractured something. I have no insurance. I'm not going to the doctor any sooner than I have to. But, here I am, with my foot wrapped up, and not doing much of anything. I can barely walk. Again. I can barely walk.
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AHHH!
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I have penny jars to empty and three more canned food drives to collect. And you know what? George told me she got 22 calls today from people looking for help. She said, and I quote, "I'm going to have to turn people away." We've never done that before. But we are literally running out of food! I am upset to say the least. I have no idea what I am going to do to keep us going.
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And I had all these plans. I've said it over and over again. After we are done with our clients we split what is left between two local pantries. Because we do, I beg for as much as we can get our hands on. Donations will dry up after Christmas. The need won't. I had plans. I could see it in my head. Every year the Salvation Army pull their trailer up outside the warehouse, and take our food. The same thing with the St. Vincent DePaul Society from St. B. This year the St. Vincent DePaul Society pantry from St. W. called us asking for help. They've donated to us before although we've never reciprocated with donations of food. So here I am, imagining that we are splitting this huge amount of food between three pantries. We barely had any clients this year. Until today that is. God only knows if we can help those people we do have. I am disappointed. No, I am pissed off. I can't get up and do anything about it. Maybe make phone calls. I've got to think this out. Crap!
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I'd ask you dear readers to send food my way, but I know you are too far. Even so, when the local food pantry comes a calling, donate, please. The need this year is great.

Illinois Politics

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By now everyone has heard of Illinois's latest embarrassment. It looks as if our sitting Governor will be the fourth in my lifetime to serve time in jail. According to the indictment, the Feds have Rod Blagojevich on tape trying to sell President Elect Obama's former Senate seat. Pity Blago couldn't wait until our last governor was released from jail.
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Now Congressman Jesse Jackson, Jr. has questions to answer because of his interest in that seat. He wasn't indicted and he doesn't act like a guilty man. When confronted by the media outside his home, Jackson didn't scream about how unfair they were to him. Instead he was polite, and he served the reporters hot coffee. Not something a marked man usually does. Believe me, I saw enough of them. Tony Rezco did the perp walk, and George Ryan rudely denied everything.
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Where I'm not surprised Blagojevich was indicted, there are a few things I am surprised about. First off, I'm surprised this dirt bag was reelected. I voted for him once. Some of his actions while serving his first term as Governor bothered me. I voted for the Republican the next time. I'm surprised that he wasn't indicted along with Tony Rezco. The Republicans tried to pin Rezco to Obama's coattails when Obama ran for President. Resco had more dealings with Blagojevich. The other thing I find surprising is that someone hasn't put a foot in Blago's ass over some of the silliness that has come out of Springfield in the last 6 years.
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One of the complaints in the indictment was that Blago's office attempted to have members of the editorial staff of the Chicago Tribune replaced with employees who were more favorable to the Blagojevich administration. Whoever was approached didn't think enough of it to pass it on. When the indictment came out, Tribune employees reported not knowing anything about it. Marketing grabbed the news up and within 24 hours, filmed commercials touting the Trib's integrity. Even Governor Blagojevich could not tempt them into changing their editorials.
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Blago doesn't work and play well with others, and there's been a lot of talk about recalling or impeaching him. The wire taps on his line by the Feds were an open secret. His wife is Chicago Alderman Dick Mel's daughter. A major riff happened between Mel and Blago over a shady land deal. For a while, the news provided daily updates. Mel said this and Blago said that, and father and daughter weren't speaking because of it. Blago has been fighting with Illinois Senate President Mike Madigan since the day he was sworn in. Now Attorney General Lisa Madigan (Mike's daughter) is seeking a ruling from the State Supreme Court declaring Blago as unfit to rule. And it's been an on again off again relationship with House of Representative President Emile Jones. All of the above, including Blago, are Democrats. I understand that Barack Obama refused to have anything to with Blago. Even though Blago was in Chicago on election day, he didn't attend Obama's party in Grant Park. It was reported that when Obama's transition office called the Governor about the seat and their recommendation, Blago was insulted because they promised only their appreciation in return for appointing Obama's choice.
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Blago makes a lot of promises. When Pilgrim Baptist Church, a landmark, burned down, he promised a million dollars to rebuild. Pilgrim Baptist is in the heart of a Chicago neighborhood called Bronzeville. It was originally a synagogue built by Adler and Sullivan. When the neighborhood changed from white to black, the property was later sold to a Baptist congregation. That was during the Great Migration. Adler and Sullivan was the architectural firm responsible for designing the 1892 Columbian Expedition here in Jackson Park. Sullivan was famous for his high arched doorways and Adler for the acoustics. This church is also famous because this was the birthplace of modern day gospel music. As I said, the church burned down and Blago promised money. Instead the State gave the money to a school that used to be housed in the church building. They took it and relocated. The State didn't attempt to get the money back and the Church is still waiting to be rebuilt. That's only an example of what has become the norm in Illinois and not an occasional incident. It's no wonder that Illinois's finances are a mess.
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The indictment came about a week after Democratic Senator Dick Durbin asked President Bush to commute the sentence of former Illinois Governor George Ryan. He's a Republican, he's in his 70's and not in the best of health. He was sentenced to six years after Patrick Fitzgerald, the same Patrick Fitzgerald who prosecuted Scooter Libby and now Blagojevich, indicted him for fraud. As Secretary of State, one of Ryan's responsibilities was to issue driver's licenses. SoS employees were required to earn money for Ryan's campaign fund. Some of them sold driver's licenses to unqualified drivers. This came to light when something fell off a semi driven by an undocumented immigrant. That something hit the undercarriage of a van following the truck. It blew up. A minister and his wife were driving 6 of their nine children, including a 6 month old baby, home from vacation. All six children died. The minister and his wife suffered severe burns. The truck driver, who didn't speak English, bought his license from one of those employees.
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I've written about George Ryan previously. As Governor, he placed a moratorium on the death penalty when it was found several death row inmates who were wrongly prosecuted and convicted. Ryan then commuted the sentences of 161 others. Several of those were found to be wrongly convicted while many returned to jail after committing other crimes.
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Ryan never expressed an ounce of remorse over the lives of those children, and that has always bothered me. Rod Blagojevich's behavior is just plain dumb. I just wonder how he got this far in life without physically hurting himself.

My Favorite Civil Servant

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Have you ever met someone at their profession and just knew that God planted them there? Once upon a time there was this principal at this middle school where students and parents alike knew that we had a gift from God.
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I met her when my eldest was beat up on his way to school and again in school. This kid, this Mark, followed Ed for three years, taunting him, badgering him, and getting other kids to physically assault him. At the time, Ed was a scrawny little kid. Being that I didn't have a car and the school district didn't provide buses, I had little control outside of walking him to school each day, and that didn't last long. Ed still had to deal with the other kids teasing him about why his Mom walked him to school. Most of these kids were spouting off because they were at Mark's mercy as well. Mark was two years older and only attended the same school as Ed one year in every three. Every time Ed stood up for himself, Mark insisted he had to defend himself. Never mind that Mark caused the problem to begin with.
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I went to school time and again, and I talked to Mr. H., the principal at the intermediate school Eddie attended. I begged Mr. H. to please help me. First he promised to talk to Mark, which did nothing. Later when I begged, Mr. H. said he didn't want to contact Mark's parents because there would be an argument with them and he didn't want to argue. The abuse continued and even the police were called. They could do nothing because the boys were under age.
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Finally Ed moved to the next building. He was in 6th grade and Mark was in 8th. Ed and Mark both had a mile and a half walk to and from school. By this time the older kids figured out who Mark was and refused to help him bully the younger kids. Ed was on his own and Mark blamed Ed for Mark losing friends. One day on the way to school Mark hassled Ed. No biggy. Ed stood up for himself and nothing happened. Then between classes the pair came across each other as their lockers were in close proximity. That's when Mark thought no one was looking. He caught Eddie by surprise. He grabbed my son by the ears, yanked his head down and raised his knee. He got Ed right in the mouth. My son sported the biggest, fat lip I ever saw in my life.
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Mary saw it all. She grabbed Mark and set him down in the office while the ass't principal drove Ed home. Mark wasn't allowed to leave the office that day and everyday since, until a parent picked him up. He wasn't allowed in school either until a parent dropped him off at the office. That was September. By June a very dis functioning class pulled themselves together and became the best friends ever.
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Needless to say, I have adored Mary ever since. When Jon entered middle school, I was so happy to know Mary had his back as well.
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My boys moved onto high school. Jon was a freshman and Ed a junior when I came across Mary next. She had gone on to earn her doctorate by then. Our elementary school district was headed by this woman; this monster. I don't know what her problem was, but as soon as Mary had that degree under her belt, this woman turned nasty. The Superintendent showed up at the middle school one day, accompanied by the police. Mary was dismissed, escorted out and locked out. Then Mr. H. was installed in Mary's place. That afternoon the kids from Mary's school made up signs and hit the streets, protesting Mary's dismissal.
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I came into this when it hit the paper. I was assigned to cover school board meetings and privately called meetings. I wasn't the only parent who owed her a lot. There were so many of us protesting we made news in Chicago. Mary talked to Chicago reporters the day after to ask everyone to put aside their anger allow the children to return to school. In deference to her appeal, that's exactly what happened. We continued to fight her dismissal. We attended meetings where the Superintendent claimed that Mary did something so very unethical that her dismissal was the only safe avenue there was to correct a situation most of knew nothing about. Then there was an open hearing where the incident was discussed. It was a situation where Mary went the extra mile to bring a gang banger back to school, even meeting with the boy's parents and the kids he hung with. We couldn't figure out where the error was. We were horrified that someone felt strongly enough to fire her for what amounted to caring. These charges were so trumped up it had me wondering at least, how this superintendent could look at herself in the mirror and not be disgusted. The school board backed the Superintendent up completely. Unfortunately after months and months of battling this, the dismissal stood. Mary quickly found another job as a principal elsewhere.
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Since that time the Superintendent retired. Yeah. We voted the school board out and replaced it with those who led the fight to get Mary reinstalled. I hate to admit this, but there are still people who live in this town who backed the old Superintendent that I will not speak to. I doubt that I'm alone in this. We also hired a new superintendent. I'll call him Dr. K. He is a very effective and very genial gentleman. It took a few years before he found an opening, but when he did he brought Mary back. She started at Becki's old middle school, which was not the same school as where Ed and Jon went. Mary told me she was asked back to help out for 3 days. And that turned into four months. I was so happy to see her when I went to Becki's school to pick up a food drive that year. I'm in and out of there often because of our Angel program. When I didn't see her after that, I wondered again what happened to her.
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Bill and I were invited to a dinner meeting of the local chapter of this large public service organization which is part of almost every school in this area. (Builders Club or Key Club?) We walked in and found our places, and Mary sat across from me. I was so happy to see her. We couldn't talk that day at Becky's old school, so we took time last night. I am very happy to say that she is again principal in our school district, although this time for kindergarten. "It's not the same," she told me. "I really like the older children, but I am learning my way around." I was very happy to tell her how pleased we were that she is back in our district and working with our kids. Even if I no longer have children in our school, I know my neighbors' kids are that much better off because they have Mary for a principal. She told me that a lot of the parents she meets daily are her former students from her days as principal at the middle school, and that makes her happy.
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So last night was a great night. Not only was I able to catch up on someone I think the world of, but we received a check for our pantry, and a free meal besides.
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Bobby Flay and UCLA

We ordered cable TV when Bill first got sick about 5 years ago. Four years later I canceled it after a disagreement with the cable company. It was a stupid argument. Plain and simple, I was right and they were wrong. And they should have backed down and cowered before the phone when I called them to tell them so. Joking aside though, a year passed before I ordered it through another company.
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Now not having it before, you'd think it would be very easy to go back to doing without. Figure we didn't miss what we didn't have until we had it and it was gone. And Yes, I missed it. I got so into new shows. I have a few favorites on network TV. I love Criminal Minds, Boston Legal, and a few others. But on cable, you have Deadliest Catch, Ghost Hunters, Most Haunted, Haunted History (see a theme here?), most of the History Channel and then there's the cooking shows. I missed all of Top Chef from Chicago last year. There's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, Dinner Impossible, Iron Chef, and so on.
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My favorite, hands down, of all the cooking shows is Throw Down with Bobby Flay. That's where this nice Irish guy with a giant ego and a New York accent challenges people to a cooking competition. And it isn't just anyone either. He picks people who become famous for that one thing that they make. There was a woman in Springfield, Illinois who makes enchanted gingerbread houses. Bobby brought gingerbread cut outs he had prepared beforehand. She made a replica of Abraham Lincoln's home, complete with poinsettias and Christmas wreaths, and he made something that looked like the Empire State Building. Considering the detail that went into either project, she blew him away. In another episode he made Cuban sandwiches, and in another he made Philly cheese steak sandwiches.
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I'm waiting until he makes it to Chicago to make an Italian beef sandwich, and make it wet with gardinaire. There's a reason for that. When the Bears went to the Super Bowl a couple of years ago, he was asked to make some of our favorite foods. He took lunchmeat, a rye roll and smothered it in mustard and called it Italian beef. Ah, not hardly.
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Anyway, where this is leading to is that Ed and I watched this episode a few weeks ago about chicken cacciatore. There was this New York firefighter that made the covers of some cooking magazines because he made it so well. We watched both the firefighter and Bobby make this, and both of us drooled. I mean this looked so good. Finally Ed said, "Mom, you got to try that."
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Bobby and the firefighter browned chicken in olive oil. When they took it out of the pan, they caramalized onion, green pepper and mushrooms, with a little garlic thrown in at the end. They added flour to the left over oil and browned it only enough to take away the taste of raw flour. Then they used wine to deglaze the pan. Flay used red wine and the firefighter used white, although I can't remember what type of red or what type of white. After that it was crushed tomatoes, chicken broth and seasonings. Then the chicken went back into the pot for about 45 minutes. Now the firefighter served it over Adobe rice and Bobby served it over spaghetti noodles. It looked so good I swear I could smell it over the airwaves. "Mom," Ed insisted, "You've got to make that dish."
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I thought about it for a couple of weeks before I made up my mind. My biggest difficulty would be choosing a wine. I never cooked with wine before and I rarely drink it. In the end I bought Arbor Mist. I used spaghetti. And I forgot to thicken it. I tried to cook it down. That took way too long and damn I was hungry. But you know what? It was good. It was very good. In fact I think I like this better than some of my other Italian favorites. I can't wait to make it again. Maybe if I do, Ed will stay home and try it.
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Speaking of Ed, he and his buddies spent the last four days helping Yellow and her boyfriend move home. She is an incredible pack rat and her boyfriend is worse. Long story short, Ed had a homework assignment due today. He had to write an essay for his Composition class about the one thing that's missing on the U.C.L.A. (the University Closest to LaGrange Avenue) campus, and he had left himself only a short window of time to write it.
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He had me intrigued last night as he worked on this. He started out really well, typing his heart out. But then he got up to use the washroom. I read while he was gone. It went something like 'Some people will say that UCLA is too expensive. Comparatively it isn't. Others will say the books are too expensive. That's not true because the publishers set the price and UCLA's mark-up is minimal. He went on to talk about good teachers and building programs.
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He came over to sit by me after he came from the bathroom. I told him his grammar was fine and that the piece flowed like it should. But then I got on the phone with Jon. Ed stayed with me to pick on me while I talked to his brother. It took him forever to get back to his work. Finally he did, and he typed just a little more. He said, "Okay, I'm done. Come over here and read it again." He writes: Taking all of this into account there is only one thing I can complain about. There.... isn’t one dinosaur on the entire campus.