And Speaking of Furniture...

There are two sides to every coin.  Two poles to every planet.  Two sides to the Force.  Neither side is better or worse than the other (except in the case of the Force), and in this entry I'm featuring the cheese and sausage side of yesterday's crust.

The Amish, a Mennonite sect, is an offshoot of earlier Anabaptists known as the Swiss Brethren.  Jakob Ammann, the founder of what was to become the Amish Mennonites, felt that his brethren were slowly losing touch with some of the more radical aspects of the Mennonite faith, to their detriment.  Specifically, he felt that the practice of shunning, or socially ostracizing excommunicated church members, should be much more rigorously applied.  Jakob, a man gifted with second sight, also foresaw the development of motor cars, electric razors, Epiladies, and the comedy of Carrot Top, and decided that severing ties with the outside world was advisable.

Thank you, Wikipedia.

Except for that last bit.

Whereas the Amish create high quality products with very low-grade technology, their Swiss cousins at Ikea create low quality items with the latest technologies and efficiencies available in the flat-pack furniture sector.  And I love them for it.  Amish furniture is made to last.  You can't say that about Ikea furniture.  But Ikea furniture is so stinking cool.  And cheap.  Kate and I, like many of you out there, can kill hours roaming an Ikea showroom, occasionally buying the odd item that we don't need but can't live without.  We have an Ikea TV stand, bedroom end tables, a lamp or two, baskets galore and assorted bowls and glasses.  Even our kitchen cabinets are Ikea (as an aside, the kitchen cabinets are actually very well made and very good looking.)

Walking through an Ikea showroom, you can't help but feel like some sort of jet-setting European hipster..."The couch is cool because it's uncomfortable."..."Sure it's made of plastic.  It's a dining room table, after all."..."Whaddya mean you don't know what a Fnord is!"

They say that, regarding any given thing, you can get two at most of the following three qualities.  Price, quality and style.  I'm replacing "expediency" with "style" because it applies better here.  And it's true in spades for Ikea.  Style out the yin-yang for an affordable price.

Cooking

I really enjoy cooking a good meal. I like taking a recipe and experimenting with it and making it my own. I never was interested in cooking until I lived by myself for the first time a few years ago. I don't necessarily know what brought it on, but I know it grew and evolved even more when I starting dating Jason. We both love to cook and in the past few years we have made some extraordinary meals. We used to be so proud of our creations that we would take pictures of the final products. I really want to start having dinner parties once our counter tops are installed. Tonight I made my mom's creamed spinach, Jason made his famous cheeseburgers and we used our new fryer to fry up some french fries. Probably not the best meal for you, but it turned out simply delightful. Bon Appetite.

I Love the Amish...or at Least Their Markets

I'm sure if I got to know a few Amish people I'd find them to be very pleasant, agreeable people.  The few that I've met seemed to have big hearts and friendly natures.  But I've never had the opportunity to chat with them.  My interactions are usually far less social, restricted to requests for extra ketchup on my bison burger.

And that's really enough for me.  I love the purely financial, consumer relationship the Amish and I share.  The Amish market is a wonderland.  You need pie?  How about the greatest blueberry pie mankind has ever seen?  French fries?  Pah!  Try seasoned fried new potato slices slathered in some sort of delicious animal fat.  And the bison burgers?  Forget about it.  It's no wonder the early settlers nearly hunted the beasties to extinction.

But it's not just food.  Furniture, housewares, holiday gifts, and most other categories are represented (automobile accessories and electronics being the obvious exclusions.)  The Amish have the ability to take any given thing, and make it better than it's ever been made before.  It's seems almost compensatory, like a blind person's heightened other four senses.  By swearing off modern technology and simplifying their choices, they've developed the technology they do have into an immensely efficient toolset. "Aiy", they say.  "We may only have a handsaw, a pair of tweezers, and a grinding wheel, but we'll make you a chair better than anything your 'Herman Miller' could ever make."

The only downside is the hours, at least at the Amish market near us.  They're open Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.  That's it.  How can they do that to us?  That's like Chuck E. Cheese telling kids they can only come in on Mondays after 11PM, or ABC airing a new episode of "Lost" every seventh odd-numbered Wednesday only.  Torture.

So, Amish god, consider this a formal petition.  I, and the millions of others who live for your macaroni and cheese and meatloaf sandwiches, hereby affix our names and beseech you to allow your children to do what they do second best.  Sell us great stuff.  Please grant them more time to sell us what they do best; they take the mundane and make it great.

Thanks, Amish god.  You rock.

Perfect Slumber

I love sleeping, especially when I feel completely content with my day and have little to no stress. This perfect sleep usually comes on the weekends.

I used to take naps on the couch when I still lived with my parents, and I would have the most lucid dreams. I would always know I was sleeping. I would see rats or something crawling all over the floor around me, but since I knew I was hallucinating, I would think it was really cool and trippy as opposed to being grossed out or scared out of my mind. I don't seem to do that much anymore, probably cause napping usually doesn't fit into my lame adult schedule. I do enjoy a good nights sleep, though. I've always been a very heavy sleeper. I became even more so when I lived on 1st ave in the East Village, except for the nights I would hear rats in the kitchen, real rats, not hallucinations. Those were pretty restless nights.

I could sleep 12 hours a night if I never set an alarm clock. If I don't set an alarm on the weekends I can sleep till noon. I feel really lucky to be able to do this. Lately I've been having really interesting dreams, too.

All the mom's reading this right now are saying "those days will end the second you bring a child into your life." I know you're all right about that, so in the meantime I am just going to revel in the amazing beauty sleep I can get today. Sleep tight everyone.

Woodworking...as a Concept

I love the idea of woodworking.  Taking rough-hewn planks and transforming them into furniture.  Creating something lasting from something inherently fleeting.  We go to the Amish market for lunch occasionally, and I'm always flabbergasted by what these guys can do with a tree.  One day I'd like to be able to do that.  One day I'd like a fully tricked out wood shop where I can try and make the same sort of magic.

I watch Norm Abram on The New Yankee Workshop occasionally.  This guy is a freaking genius.  If he were a filmmaker, he'd be Stephen Spielberg.  If he were an architect, he'd be Frank Lloyd Wright.  If he were a 70's prog rock band, he'd be Yes.  And I think we know what sort of hot chocolate he'd be.

Each show he goes to some antique center, studies an old piece of furniture, and then comes back to the shop and builds a perfect replica.  Like it was nothing.  Not that he makes it look easy.  It's actually very hard to follow him because he takes something difficult and makes you understand just how intricate and complicated it is.  But watching the process, and seeing what comes out the other end, is almost mystical.

That's why I say I love woodworking as a concept.  I've never had the opportunity to try it, apart from studding out a wall.  But I suspect that if I ever had the space, the time, and the money to put a shop together, I would fall pretty deeply in love with woodworking as a hobby.

Volleyball

One way or another, I played every sport by the time I graduated High School. For some the interest lasted years, while I just dabbled with others for a short time. Track and Field lasted a few months with only one actual Meet (is that what it's called, Meet?). I played volleyball for only one year in H.S. and for some reason whenever a volleyball game's being played nearby or I see a court, I just gravitate towards it. I love it as a recreational activity. I play okay and I know I could improve if I just played more.

Let's hope I do because my friend George at work asked if I'd be interested in playing on an adult Baltimore recreational league and I said yes. My folks won't be too fond of my decision.  Some friends might be nervous as well, because every time I join an adult league I get injured.  I find that balls like to fly at my head. Since I have a strong love for volleyball I hope I can remember the rules.  I will continue to think positively and just have FUN!

Basements are the Tops

I enjoy a lot of things about where Kate and I live now.  It's nice being close to most points within the city.  But one thing I really miss is having a basement.  At our old house we had one, and I loved it.  We have one here, but it's occupied by tenants.  I can't wait for the day that I can put in a staircase and reclaim that space.

I'm not sure why, but I feel very at peace in a basement.  The basement in my childhood home was my favorite spot.  As a kid there was plenty of room to play, and a lot of our toys were stored downstairs.  Most of our birthday parties were in the basement, and when friends spent the night, we all crashed downstairs.  Plus there was a pool table, a TV; everything a kid could want.  It was finished, so it was like a big, extended living room, with a toy chest.

And the basement, or rather the flooding of the basement, caused a situation which I remember as being a highlight of my childhood.  The stairwell outside the basement would back up during heavy rains, drenching the carpet, the furniture, everything.  The only way to dry the carpet was to pull it up, and flip it over the pool table.  The resulting folds in the carpet, and the covered space under the pool table created the GREATEST forts and hideouts of all time!  I had a blast!  I couldn't wait for the next flood.  It's funny.  I remember our basement floods as wonderful times full of adventure.  It wasn't until I had a house of my own that I suddenly realized how much differently my parents must have viewed those floods.  Ah, the happy ignorance of youth.

Once I got older my computer was put in the basement, and it became a retreat of sorts.  It felt like my own space, my own small piece of the house, even more so than my room, oddly enough.  I liked the quiet and the solitude.  I liked the separation.

Still do.  I don't have a basement now, but, when and if our tenants move out I have no plans of re-renting it.  I'm going to knock out the floor in the kitchen closet, which used to be the entrance to the basement stairs, but a new staircase in, wall off what is now the entrance to the basement apartment, get a new (used) pool table, and enjoy basement living again.

Sans floods.

Moisture Relief

Yes, you heard it right kids.  Like many folks out there I enjoy a nice moisturizing lotion, especially in the drier months. Baltimore, from December to February is so extremely dry.  My skin is already so sensitive and red-hair fair.  Add dry frigid cold weather to that and my skin starts to crack and burn. I found a recent moisturizer called Canus Goat's Milk and so far so good. It soaks into your skin and doesn't leave them oily. Your skin will feel soft hours later. I love the feeling of soft smooth hands. I am also a huge fan of lip moisturizers.  I like taking that minute break to apply my moisturizers.  It makes you feel refreshed and energized, ready to conquer the day, or it least it helps a bit and puts a smile on your face.

If You've Got Good Friends...

...you don't need much else.  This is going to be a short entry tonight because it's late and I have to get up early to meet with my accountant to finish my taxes.

What?  Taxes isn't the subject of tonight's entry?  Why else you would mention them in your introductory paragraph?

Tonight's entry is a simple truism, but one that everyone can appreciate.  Like Kate said, we had a few friends over for a hanging out and "oh, look...the Superbowl's on" party.  And earlier in the day Kate and I attended my sister's baby shower (men, I've discovered that baby showers are exactly like regular parties, except there is a lot more talk about breast pumps, stretch marks, and the relative benefits of differing lotions and skin balms.)

It was a great day filled with great people, great conversation, and barely a single morsel of food that wasn't intended to be dipped in another foodstuff.  Really, great friends and family are what make life interesting.  It's easy to get trapped in your own stuff sometimes and forget to reach out, but keeping important people in your life and around you is the secret to happiness.  One of them, at least.

Wine

I am a big fan of wine, both red and white, as long as it's pretty good. I wish I knew more about the different kinds and how to smell and taste wines. Tonight Jason and I had a get together at our house. It was kind of about watching the Superbowl, but it was mostly about hanging out with dear friends. We drank wine all night and it was a fabulous time. Finally our house is done enough to have a few friends over and not feel embarrassed. It's going to be a work in progress for a while. But we had it christened tonight with a few friends, a few bottles of wine and animportant football game. Go Steelers, I believe they won. Good night!

Uncle Jason

My sister Stephanie and brother-in-law John are due to give birth to her first child about a month from tomorrow, which would make me, for the first time in my life, an uncle.  It hadn't really hit me until today, the day before Steph's baby shower, how close it is, and how cool it's going to be.

I can't wait to meet Baby Bird (that's what Steph and John are calling her because they don't know the sex) for the first time.  Meet her for real.  I met her once in a dream I had a few months ago, but in the dream she was a seven year old African American girl named Latifah.  I hold this up as an example of the uncanny predictive powers of dreams.

Kate's nephews also call me Uncle Jason, but this will be the first time a blood relative will be able to use that name.  And I've been thinking about what kind of uncle I'll be.  Off the bat, I know I'll be the uncle that makes coins vanish, and then miraculously reappear from Baby Bird's ears.  Over and over again.  I remember my Uncle Gary that way, and I've always wanted to play that role.  And I'm sure later in life I'll be the uncle that cracks goofy jokes all the time.  Jokes that he thinks are funny but are completely lost on Baby Bird...mainly because they aren't actually funny.

Ultimately I hope I can be the kind of uncle that, once Latifah has grown up and become her own person, she'll remember, think is still cool even though he's a crotchety old man, and have fond memories of.  Gad, I'm talking as if I'll be dead...

What I want it to be cool, funny uncle Jason.  The uncle that Latifah would want to be when she grows up if it weren't biologically impossible for to do so.

Girl Talk

My crazy, down-to-earth hairdresser, Nina did my hair today. My friend Julianna and I always have Nina do our hair at the same time. The three of us have the greatest talks. It's really the best girl talk therapy I've had in a while and I really look forward to the once a month session. 

Nina's been out of commission recently, since she just had her breasts enlarged (they look and feel lovely by the way), so it had been a while. I had my hair cut short and spiky and dyed dark brownish red and Jules had a choppy short cut too, dyed a nice espresso brown. We both felt great when we left and loved our new dos. I never laughed so hard. Our talks usually consist of subjects like boys, family, movies, work, and we even hit on life aspirations sometimes. They are two amazing chicks and I can't wait for my next visit.