What I Want for Christmas

Thinking about this made me a little sad, seeing as all my wishes have become undeniably adult and domestic: kitchen things, expensive sheets, liquor.

Which takes me back to simpler times:

I don't recall my brothers and I ever having the "Homeless Guy and Mustachioed-WWI Hatted Policeman" set, but I do have fond memories of the giant mass of Lego-Playmobile-Pirate-Knight-Pioneer-Doctor-Magic-Construction-Princess-Business-Land that once occupied a large chunk of an upstairs room.

So, this is my wish: That this still exists, and that someone in the world gets it for Christmas (or other winter holiday)

A Prescription for Cold Times

Sometimes plans to go to the Beat Kitchen and hear some very loud music go awry, because Chicago is settling into the bitterly frigid time of the year, and no amount of coats, scarves, and Smart-Wool socks can fortify you to step outside.

On a night such as this, J.A. and I instead drew straws to see who would go to the corner store to buy a bottle of whiskey from the friendly Turkish man. (J.A., ever gallant, braved the elements)

And then the only reasonable thing to be done is make hot toddies, with a recipe I made up. I don't know if little book of cocktails that's sitting somewhere among an illustrated book of Chinese cooking and a stack of handwritten recipes would approve, but they are delicious.

To Assemble:

- 1 1/2 ounce of Buffalo Trace bourbon (necessary if you are J.A. and me, and nostalgic for last year's trip to Spain, where this was for some reason the only bourbon we could find, and bartenders seemed nonplussed that we wanted drink it at all. The easier thing was to ask for "Un whiskey, por favor" and then a glass would be filled with Cutty Sark until one said when.)

- 1 1/2 ounces water

Heat the water and whiskey until it steams, and is too hot to dip in a finger. Then add:

- One squiggle of honey (two if you are J.A., and sweet)

- One splash of lemon juice (two if you are R.A., and sour)

- A dusting of cinnamon, nutmeg, and ground cloves (or if you prefer, all the spices of the Orient)

Stir together, and enjoy on the futon, wrapped in blankets, while listening to the Sufjan Stevens Christmas album. Repeat as needed until the cold is chased from your bones and the end of your nose.

Cheers!

Has the Whole World Gone...Sane?

Not yet, actually. But I'm getting some deeply perplexing vibes of lucidity from the crazy-pants wing of our country, as noted by the Washington Post

"Frustrated by the failure to overturn Roe v. Wade, a growing number of antiabortion pastors, conservative academics and activists are setting aside efforts to outlaw abortion and instead are focusing on building social programs and developing other assistance for pregnant women to reduce the number of abortions."

This should be straight from the Onion, right? Only in opposite-land could the nation's disembrained actually be considering this kind of approach. And yet, it goes on:

"Some of the activists are actually working with abortion rights advocates to push for legislation in Congress that would provide pregnant women with health care, child care and money for education -- services that could encourage them to continue their pregnancies."

And all it took was the collapse of the economy, a landslide political mandate for the Democrats, and the utter disarray that is the Christian/Republican alliance to bring about this fresh new perspective of pragmatism and compassion.

Well, not entirely:

"It's a sellout, as far as we are concerned," said Joe Scheidler, founder of the Pro-Life Action League. "We don't think it's really genuine. You don't have to have a lot of social programs to cut down on abortions."

"You don't work to limit the murder of innocent victims," said Judie Brown, president of the American Life League. "You work to stop it."

Not to get too hopeamacational on you all, but can you imagine a time when people like these are no longer taken seriously?

Preface (still): USB Cord continues missing, a family prays

The election night photo essay remains a dream, thanks to my inability to find that stinking cord which (magically) channels the pictures through the series of internet tubes to your eyes.

So instead, I bring you the lass who Boing Boing has dubbed "Amelie Jr."

For serious, she makes me all itchy to pop out a tiny person who might be as interesting. J.A., feel like making an illegitimate child? If we stopped paying rent we could totally afford it.


Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo.