Michelin vs Bridgestone Tires

Beginning in the 1960s I had (key word: had) been impressed with Michelin tires. But something in the quality changed. None of the Michelin tires I've bought over the last 15 years were worth the price paid. At every purchase, years apart, I just thought that the past Michelin purchases of bad quality tires were flukes. Then, in 1998 I bought a new Honda Accord LX sedan equipped with Michelin Energy MXV4 tires. The tires wore ok, but the car always had a very slight pull to the right that could not be corrected with alignments, rotating, air pressures, and what ever else I did. My wife didn't notice, but I did. The very slight pull was a very slight pain. The tires were also a danger on wet surfaces and easy to hydroplane.

I traded the '98 for a new 2000 Accord with the same tires and same pull problem. I went thru the same scenario. Alignments, rotating...nothing would stop the pull. Other Honda Accord drivers voiced the same problems in various forums, but no one had a definitive cause or solution. The wet traction on these Michelins was also nonexistant and easily hydroplaned.

I bought another new Honda Accord in 2004. EX-V6. Great car. Again, GREAT CAR AND A PLEASURE TO DRIVE. Again, essentially the same Michelin tires, updated to "Plus". And, yes, it pulled to the right. My wife always said that she didn't notice the pull on any of the Accords. In addition to the pull, the Michelins on the '04 Accord developed bulges without any insult of our making to the tire. At about $196.00 per crappy tire, I was done with Michelins and could hardly wait to change tires. But, I had to get some value out of them, so they stayed on for a bit longer. Also no wet traction and hydroplaning.

Enter Bridgestone

A few months ago I began web researching tires, looking for ones with high marks in tread wear, handling, wet traction, and good reviews from tire owners. I found the solution. Bridgestone Potenza G019-Grid tires. A set of four ended the problems I'd been having. My wife then said she could perceive a difference. Aha! That's what I've been talking about. The Potenza G019 Grid is Bridgestone's High Performance All-Season tire. I now have about 3,000+ miles on these tires and they have been worth every hard-earned penny at HALF the price of way overpriced Michelins. Great handling, no pulling to any side, and no hydroplaning, even at interstate speeds. The difference is amazing. BRIDGESTONE!

I Got It from a Toilet Seat! Honest! No, you did not. And quit blaming the toilet seat.

I've never known anyone who admitted to "catching" some dread disease from a toilet seat. However, I have met plenty of people who think that the lowly toilet seat is the world's repository of all manner of sexually-transmitted-diseases (STDs), bacteria, fungi, viruses, and, well, just anything else that can eff up a good day.

I have one son in particular who seems quite proud of the fortress (his word) he constructs between his precious butt, and the evil and unhealthy forces waiting for it on the toilet seat. He uses a half roll of paper before he even sits. Squirming all the while, hurrying, so he can get down to business. If he really wanted to keep other butts off the seat he should replace it with one of these.

Now I have read that certain organisms can live on surfaces other than our bodies. Some live for seconds, some live for hours - depending on the story. Some harmful bacteria probably are on the toilet seat, but no STDs live on them (so I've read). If STDs lived on toilet seats and were dependent upon a fresh butt sitting on them for mobility and eventual motility, then they would be called TTDs.

One of the best defenses against toilet seat critters is our skin...our unbroken, healthy skin. But, if you have scratches, sores, or any open wounds on your bottom, by all means keep them covered as these kinds of openings do invite invasion that you could truly say you got from a toilet seat.

Having lived for more than a half century, and once being a European traveler of sorts, I have used toilets - actually sat on toilet seats - in places from Little Rock to Luxembourg, Memphis to Munich, Benton to Berlin, Amsterdam to Zurich, and dozens of other places. I have yet to be able to honestly claim that, 'I got it from a toilet seat'. If I had any luck at all the only thing I ever got was relief. Mind you, I have papered the seat first, if there was enough paper for after, just so I could keep the bigger chunks off my bottom. But other times have simply been 'commando'. The undeniably worst thing I ever saw lurking on a toilet seat was the thing to the left...

Once, just outside Paris, France, I pulled into a gas station to do my duty only to find that there would be no sitting. Standing Room Only. This was the only place I ever saw one of these, although I'm sure I just missed the others.

The more important question than what is lurking on a toilet seat is, how dirty are your shoes? Pretty damn dirty it turns out. Think about it. You walk through all kinds of yuck, in and out of restrooms, clinics and hospitals, your workplace, where the dog did his duty...and then walk into your home. Your shoes have enough filth on them to make a toilet seat cringe. And you're worried about the crapper? The crap's on your shoes...and everywhere else...all the time. Just click the link above and see what ABC News found.

One last thing on this. WASH YOUR HANDS, OPEN THE DOOR WITH THE DRYING TOWEL, YOUR HANDKERCHIEF, OR YOUR SHOE (see, your SHOE again).

Is There ANYTHING To Help My Sanity?

HELP! I need somebody. HELP! Not just anybody. HELP!

I Need A New Drug!

...Am I Stepping Into the Twilight Zone...

I Go Crazy, Crazy, Crazy...

Imaginary Lover

I Need a Lover That Won't Drive Me Crazy

uh huh, uh huh, uh huh

If there were, say, five things that could help save my sanity, I'd be crazy not to try them.

Obituary of the Late Mr. Common Sense

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

Knowing when to come in out of the rain

Why the early bird gets the worm

Life isn't always fair

Maybe it was my fault

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies: Don't spend more than you can earn.

And reliable strategies: - Adults, not children, are in charge

His health began to deteriorate when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer Tylenol, sun lotion or a band-aid to a student but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband, churches became businesses and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when it became punishable for you to defend yourself from a burglar in your own home but the burglar could sue you for assault. He began to lose ground rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6 -year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his Daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by his 3 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else Is To blame, and I'm A Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

Top Ten Irritating Phrases (only ten?)

A top ten of irritating phrases has been compiled by researchers at Oxford University. According to an article by Telegraph.co.UK (Charlotte Bailey), heading the list was the expression 'at the end of the day', which was followed in second place by the phrase 'fairly unique'. The tautological statement 'I personally' made third place.

Hmm. T-A-U-T-O-L-O-G-I-C-A-L. I don't even know what that word means, and for pleasure and entertainment I read The American Heritage Dictionary Second College Edition. I mean, you know, I don't know the meaning of the word. Like, what's it mean? Let's look it up sometime.

Ironically, the article also mentioned the irritating buggers 'literally' and 'ironically', when used out of context. Yeah, they literally bug me, too.

And I hear them being used incorrectly 24/7. I personally find their use, with all due respect to those who use them, absolutely a nightmare because they shouldn’t of said it. The use of proper grammar is fairly unique, but it’s not rocket science. But, I’ll just bet that the same “research” in the U.S. would offer up a completely different list. I think I will add this research task to my Things to Do. So, with all that said here are Oxford U’s Top Ten, at this moment in time. Ahem.

The Top Ten, as chosen by our long-toothed brethren:

1 - At the end of the day

2 - Fairly unique

3 - I personally

4 - At this moment in time

5 - With all due respect

6 - Absolutely

7 - It's a nightmare

8 - Shouldn't of

9 - 24/7

10 - It's not rocket science

-#-

A Taste of Apple History

I never met a fruit I didn’t like. Unfortunately, many of my favorites are the high-sugar content fruits like orchard-fresh apples, plantation-picked pineapple and bananas, juicy grapes and cherries, and many more. Additional favorites include the so-called low carbohydrate fruits such as melons (except watermelons), all fresh berries, apricots, peaches, plums, and citrus. Whether the fruits in question are either high or low in fruit sugars seems to depend upon whose list I look at. Today I had the pleasure of sampling a taste of history; specifically an Arkansas Black Apple. I’d never even heard of this variety. A friend who knows I enjoy apples brought one for me from his dad’s private orchard in Russellville. It was not one bushel, not one bucket or bagful, just one apple. I appreciated his thoughtfulness just the same, though. Its appearance was not as handsome as the photo example, but it certainly was a good apple. Of course I immediately began researching. The Arkansas Black Apple is a special one, a favorite in the south, I read. Maybe so, but I will wager that not many southerners have heard of it. It is classed as a heritage variety, an heirloom in modern times. Mine was not a perfect esthetic specimen of the variety, but did have the notable very dark red to black skin with a nice coat of natural wax. The bloom end was, indeed, almost black. I have read that Arkansas Black was probably a seedling of Winesap discovered in Benton County, Arkansas around 1870. Apparently it is also known as Arkansas Black Twig, another name I’ve never heard. My most favorite apple is the well liked Golden Delicious with its honey sweetness and smooth texture. But, if I ever get the opportunity again, I won’t hesitate to step back in time to the heritage that is the Arkansas Black. -#-

Marines Credited With Rescue at California Motel Fire

No Better Friend. No Worse Enemy.

Today, November 10, 2008, we celebrate the birthday of the United States Marine Corps.

As Marines around the world celebrate, fight, die, share peace, change lives, train, and engage in a host of Honorable actions, I salute their efforts, honor their bravery, and thank them for their sacrifices. I ask all freedom loving people to do the same. Everyday.

Today's USMC birthday witnessed another heroic Marine action, in California.

Lt. Col. Oliver North & President-Elect Obama

TO PROTECT AND DEFEND

If you have read my Profile you know that Lt. Col. Oliver North is one of my heroes. If you love and care about this country, please read his recent commentary here.

Bad Cyst Part 2 - Scroll Down for Part 1

During the same afternoon as the stitch removal the wound began to ooze blood. The cadre was beginning its mission. I felt the wetness while working at my PC. Damn! I didn’t expect more trouble from this thing. Of course, I was not in control. Asking a co-worker who wouldn’t faint at the sight of blood to check it out for me, she said that my undershirt was bloody. Damn! I called Dr. Jim’s office and was told to go back to the office for inspection. I didn’t even stop for my helmet or gas mask, which, as it turned out were not needed anyway. A different nurse, Judy, removed the bandage and verified that the war was not over. Damn! She must have seen one of the cadre poking its head out. She left the exam room and returned moments later with Dr. Jim in tow. He verified that we were still at war…with a twist. As I understood it, the original surgery had left a pocket of the enemy (blood) and it had somewhat coagulated into a quagmire. All would have to be routed and dispensed with. Damn! Dr. Jim and Judy (who was very good at her mission) got to work while I worked maintaining the best silence I could. Skilled fingers began the rout, expressing cadre members from their hiding places. Expertly guided missiles of Novocain or similar found their targets. One did, however, go off course. I wish it hadn’t. Dr. Jim was pushing, squeezing, expressing the enemy, using the tools of the cyst warfare trade. Damn! that hurt! Dr. Jim was pretty certain it hurt when I groaned and answered in the affirmative when he asked. More missiles I think. Good. Let the battle continue. Finally they were done and Dr. Jim apologized left and right for my inconvenience. No need to, unless he with on their side, but I don’t think so. Then the BDA; Battle Damage Assessment. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to suture the wound again” Dr. Jim said. Things happen this way sometimes. It’s just a part of the fog of war. Targets are hit. Targets are missed. Redirects are redirected. Have at it. Dr. Jim finished in a timely manner and said that he had to put in a small drain. Just in case any of the cadre wanted to escape on their own. And just in case they had reinforcements, I began a course of Cipro antibiotic. Overnight there was a bit more escaping, but I was already scheduled to go into the office to have the drain addressed. To my surprise and utter delight, Dr. Jim personally took care of it and told me to return the next morning. I will probably have more BDA after that mission. - # -

It’s a Computer World

Ever lose connectivity on your computer? Of course you have. Is it frustrating? Certainly. Is it common? Happens somewhere everyday. Is there a solution? Not unless we all revert to the time before computer networks ran virtually everything. Even if you neither have a computer at home nor use one at work, they are ubiquitous – everywhere. A real home office needs one. Businesses the world over use them. Governments keep up with us by way of their computer networks’ infrastructures. Hardly anything on the planet gets done without them. Airlines and air traffic, transportation and freight movement, hospitals and medicine, banking and commerce, farming and food production; all use computers in either a small, or a big way. Even in the world’s most remote regions computers have an impact, without people even knowing so. Computer users worldwide spend billions of dollars, or whatever their currency is, to maintain and protect their networks’ infrastructures. Home users are especially vulnerable according to Etienne A. Gibbs, a Management/Marketing Consultant. Cyber wars big and small are a daily activity, and virtual denial-of-service attacks on networks can either shut down your home PC or MAC, or shut down a nation’s electrical grid. And worse. Rogue nations, and some not so roguish, are probably waging cyber war as you read this. China, North Korea, and Russia have attacked the U.S.’s network infrastructure, according to our government. Russia attacked Georgia when hostilities broke out there. Makes no difference, you say? Don’t use computers, you say? You’d best go back and read the second paragraph of this post. Hardly anything on the planet gets done without them, or in a timely manner. Credit card activity, ATMs, fuel purchases, phone calls, and hundreds of other applications use computers and networks. Got cash? Forget it. Sales are completed and recorded by computer. Many people don’t even know how to make change correctly without the help of their computers or computerized cash registers. A socialist college math teacher rarely does mathematical computations without a computer (ok, maybe not all are socialists and Weather Underground members, but they do use PCs or MACs). When your computer system at work goes down monetary change can’t be made, sales can’t be registered, calls can’t be made, documents aren’t created, and appointments can’t be logged. Many people have become computer literate, but are illiterate at the same time. Writing skills are becoming “old fashion”. Some people couldn’t write a letter longhand if their lives depended on it. But, man-oh-man can they send fire off text messages in a jargon filled shorthand that’s not even language. But I’m not complaining, just making the observation that hardly anything on the planet gets done without computers. Think about it. If you have anything to add to this commentary please post a comment or email me… if the network is up. - # -

I Love My Coffee

Slurp. Buzzzzz. Slurp. Buzzzzz. Do you recognize this scenario? It’s COFFEE! Billions of people worldwide enjoy, need, their daily dose of caffeine in the form of delicious coffee. I enjoy it, too. Not so much for the buzz as for the flavor. I came to enjoy coffee quite late in my life. For years about the only coffees available where I live were the popular national brands. I hated them. They all tasted the same to me and creamer didn’t help much. But the buzz! Man, they had it. I didn’t like that, either. If I watered down the coffee to get rid of some of the buzz, there went what little flavor it had. Years later I learned that these coffees consisted of robusta coffee beans, well known for their high caffeine content. I didn’t know that what I really wanted was coffee made with gourmet quality Arabica beans. Neither did anyone else. That is, we didn’t know until the West Coast gourmet coffee trend headed east. Now I enjoy talking coffee, buying, brewing, and drinking coffee, as well as the never-ending search for my perfect cup. There are lots of perfect cups, too. I’m not a coffee snob, I don’t ever intend to roast my own beans, and I’m not going to quit my day job to become a roastmaster. I just now know enough about coffee to think I know what I like; a coffee that’s bright, full-bodied, almost syrupy, and has a lingering finish of chocolate, mostly. But I’m open to the finish, as long as it lasts a bit. There are thousands of web pages dealing with coffee; the growing, harvesting, grading, roasting, cupping, grinding, bagging, ad infinitum. If you want to know more do what I did. Do a Google search and go from there. I am just sharing my love of great coffee. My first experience with a gourmet coffee was great. An early morning company function had me wanting some to perk myself up. I went to a nearby gourmet shop, told them I wanted just a coffee, and was served a large cup of what the lady said was Sumatran. My goodness that coffee was great! What in the world happened to coffee between the last cup, years ago, and this cup, I asked myself. Surely I could brew at home and not have to buy every cup. So I began a learning experience. After going through several brands, blends, single origins, and roasts I settled on Starbucks. However, it seemed that regardless of which Starbucks varieties I chose and brewed they all were bitter in the cup. In reading web posts by others, many had the same opinion. By the way, my coffeemaker is the excellent quality Bunn NHB professional home brewer. It’s sleek, takes up little space and will brew a full pot or less in three minutes because of its always-hot and ready reservoir of water. Depending on the coffee, the results are impressive and I have never had one problem with my Bunn. If you really enjoy the wonderful flavors of gourmet coffee, not just the buzz, and are using something less you’re wasting money and probably not getting a great cup. The Bunn NHB is available for less than $100 on-line. Use Bunn’s filters, too, for a better cuppa joe. Starbucs had good coffee profiles, but bitter to me. So I continued to search for a coffee made for me. I found it in Seattle's Best Coffees.

Quite by chance I found what I liked in Seattle’s Best Coffee’s arabica beans. I've enjoyed every Seattle’s Best variety I've tried. My favorites are Henry’s Blend and Seattle’s Best Blend. Their caffeine content is just about right for me. There are SBC coffees that I've not tried because I can't find them, much to my dismay. In addition, I’ve had several 100% Kona coffees from Hawaii – great, but not quite the body I like. Kona Cloud is the best Kona I’ve had. A Jonesboro, Arkansas physician (cardiothoracic surgeon) owns the Kona Cloud coffee plantation in Hawaii, and the roasterie is located in Jonesboro, but he’s not the roastmaster. Green Mountain Coffee Roasters is a publicly traded company, and another good roasterie with many excellent choices, and there are hundreds of other roasteries across the country with their specialty coffees. But, I always keep Seattle’s Best Coffee in the pantry. A burr coffee grinder is a good device to have as many coffees are offered only in whole bean. Grinding fresh beans then immediately brewing adds a dimension not attainable by buying ground. And don’t be afraid to mix different coffees in the brewer. You just might make a blend that's perfect for your tastes. Remember, coffee does not have to be bitter to be delicious. Time now for another cup of Seattle’s Best. Enjoy your Coffee! - # -

Bad Cyst. Baaaad Cyst. Out damn cyst.

10-27-2008 The cyst on my upper back slowly grew for probably 30 years. It was never a problem and couldn't be seen. Then, BAM! It got angry. So angry that it wanted some serious attention. I gave it what it wanted, including a high-powered antibiotic that made my tongue feel as though it were on fire. While I soothed its anger I decided to get revenge on the attention whore. I enlisted an aider and abettor, an infrequently seen ally in the War on Skin Conditions, a helluva nice guy, and a competent physician with a great sense of humor, Jim. We planned and schemed. "As soon as it's calmed down, bring it by the office", he said, "we'll give it what it deserves". I could hardly wait. Not only had it angered me, but it began to emit a foul odor. I say foul because even though it smelled like aged Swiss cheese (Jim chose "limburger"), I knew it was not. Oh, yes, it was a type of cheese, but not one I would enjoy with crackers. On the fateful morning it took less than 25 minutes to get even. I thoroughly enjoyed it, too. By the way, there are six. Stitches. SIX. Don't mess with me. I get very, very serious if you mess with me. Especially if you intentionally cause me harm or make me hurt.

Please Share Our Joy (and pass the hat)

10-27-2008 Americans and the U.S. are certainly a charitable lot. In fact the U.S. contributes more to poor countries than any other country on earth. Middle Easterners contribute the least. I guess they’re too busy making and buying weaponry to turn against us to care about charity. And U.S. citizens don’t stop there. Americans donate billions within the country, too. Much closer to home are the worthy charities such as the local food bank, and down-on-their-luck missions. But this post is not about those. It’s about the everyday kinds of “charity” that most of us are subjected to by our peers and co-workers. It’s not even charity, more of a donation. Well, not really a donation. It’s, ah, um. It’s sort of a request for cash or goods couched in the terms of “We’re getting married!”, or, “We have a new grandbaby!”, even “My daughter is getting married, again!”. Hardly a day goes by without an outright, or covert, request for something. Bosses Day, Secretaries Day, Earth Day, Wedding Day, Mitzvahs, Hangnail Day. Each bold announcement comes with its attendant, “We’re registered at…”, which, of course means, “get us something nice here”. If you enjoy disposing of your disposable income that way, that’s perfectly fine. I don’t. I usually have other things to do with my money; groceries, gasoline, car payments, car batteries, fuel systems fouled by – well, not gasoline, utilities, my personal vices and “entertainment”, cell phones, small and large enjoyable gift-giving for my own grandchildren, bank bailouts. Probably about the same as you. I know this sounds stingy, but I don’t feel stingy. It’s simply not-much-money management. If I were going to buy a gift, I’d rather buy one for someone I know and love, like family members, including our extended family. I know and love them very much. I probably don’t know a co-workers’ soon-to-be-wed daughter. Or, I don’t really care that so-and-so is getting married again and will need another wedding gift, similar to the other ones I already gave her. There was one particular co-worker whose daughter was getting married and she had a coworker wedding shower right away. Right away? Soon I understood why. The co-worker left the company within days of the shower. And surely in these financially hard times the boss would understand a modest gift from his grateful employees. And Christmas? My God in Heaven! The credit card companies see it coming. But not from me. The thing is, almost all of us are targets of these kinds of audacious tactics, regardless of what it’s called. Sometimes the giving is from the heart and worthy because we know the recipient and it makes us feel warm and fuzzy. But other times it’s just a brash request for something of value. I don’t recall any one of these announcements ever asking folks to only send best wishes. I might change my whole attitude (but probably not) about these things if the giving ever came back around. But it doesn’t and is not likely to. I'm ok with that, but I will not put up an announcement about a new grandbaby; no one’s really thrilled except the family. Nor will I announce that I am always registered at LL Bean, Lands End, Brooks Brothers and Wal-Mart. However, if you would like to share my joy of the moment by giving me a gift, please do so. Just remember that a truly worthy gift will require you to first pass the hat to everyone you know and anyone with whom you are acquainted in order to obtain the most cash for the best gift. - # -

Motorcycles & Defying Death

10-24-2008 Sadly, one of my son's Father-in-law and Mother-in-law, avid motorcycle riders, were involved in a disastrous bike-car crash the weekend of October 18, 2008. Thankfully, they are alive. They were enjoying a fall bike ride. Cool temperatures, and clear skies. In fact, the couple enjoyed any ride, taking advantage of every opportunity to chase pavement. Saturday was not much different, until the young driver behind the wheel of an oncoming car turned into their path at the last moment. They had no choice but to go down – hard. And without helmets. To some, this lifestyle would be thrilling, fun, and exciting. Others would consider it death-defying and bordering on irresponsible behavior for a sixtyish couple with grown, near-grown, and young grandchildren. Regardless, I am relieved that they are alive and just starting on the road…to recovery But this isn’t about them so much as it is about me. When I was in my youth my two older brothers each had Cushman Eagle scooters or motorbikes. Not the big, honking, powerful motorcycles of today, but just as dangerous. Of course none of us ever thought about the danger. We were young and would live forever, we thought. If we even thought at all. I never had my own scooter or motorbike, but took rides with my brothers and, occasionally, got to ride by myself. Even then it was thrilling, fun, and exciting. And death defying. Mostly because of the actions, or inactions, of others on the road, many of who never see an oncoming bike. Dangerous, too, because of actions of the bike rider. Once at about the age of 13, I was riding someone else’s bike around the town of Jacksonville, Arkansas where I grew up. During the ride I attempted to turn around at the side of a parking lot to head back home. Not being very experienced, I paid no attention to the patch of gravel that caught my front wheel, causing it to lose traction and putting me down. But it was nothing. I was going very slowly, wasn’t hurt and neither was the bike. Hardly anyone wore helmets in the 1950s. A lesson learned at very little expense. Still, I enjoyed the riding and feeling power beneath my butt and the wind in my face. A desire had been created. Another time, ten or 15 years later, and married, I took a friends trail bike for a spin. All was going well. The trail bike had much more power than I’d imagined and I found myself trying to escape another patch. This time it wasn’t gravel, but a briar thicket. Again, not injured, just scratches. But for all the fun and desire, I just could never seem to get enough money together to buy my own bike. A car was simply much more practical. Then there were groceries to buy, bills to pay, and a little boy to rear. The priorities didn’t save a place for a bike. The desire began to die out. By the time I was 50 the kids were raised and other expenses rushed in to fill the limited financial vacuum. Still no money for a bike, but the desire was back and keeping a small ember alive. In 1980 I began a career in the medical industry. I saw the occasional bike-crash amputee. Nearly 20 years later I began work for an Orthotic & Prosthetic laboratory that custom made, among other medical devices, prosthetic limbs, also known as artificial legs and arms. Most prostheses – the plural of prosthesis – were made for diabetics who had lost a leg because of complications of diabetes. Other prosthetic patients included bike-crash patients. Some still ride, others gave up riding for what they called a healthier lifestyle. The point of all this is that for nearly 30 years my desire to have a motorcycle has been tempered by seeing firsthand what can happen. Oh, I can appreciate the nice rides, the thrill, fun, and excitement. At the same time my personality, something deep within my aging head, would always pair a picture of a nice ride with a picture of an amputation, or worse – meaning death. I may now have the money, but I’m just too damn old. I want to live to enjoy, and see what my grandchildren do with their lives. I have no regrets. I’m comfortable with my other vices, so I’ll just keep those and try to defy death a bit longer. - # -

Part of the Weird World of Cinnamon

Cinnamon & Foods

10-23-2008 The sense of smell and aromas, odors, fragrances, food flavors, food flavorings, and eating are important to me. To some people the nose is just another body part to maintain. To me, the nose is as important as the Creator thought it was and that's why we have it. Without the sense of smell we have no sense of taste. Without taste, well, life really would be dull. I have always had a very good sense of smell and I enjoy exercising it; sometimes disgustingly so. However, this post is regarding the sense of smell as it relates to food.

I live to eat, although not in quantities that I used to. So I really, really like what I do eat to be flavorful. A complex, but simple approach. On the other hand my dear wife only eats to live. If a food is palatable and has an agreeable texture to her, it's probably ok. She gets more than a bit frustrated at my trying to continually tweak the flavors of a dish. Sometimes she gets angry. At least, I think she gets angry. It's hard to tell sometimes. Certainly she has favorite foods. And she doesn't want them messed with. Not a great sense of food adventure going on. I am not attacking her preferences, just passing on my observations and I am done (on this particular day) with the ones about her and food After being diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in 2006, I knew I needed a healthy, quick, and a not too-carb-laden breakfast. I eventually settled on Quick Quaker Oats. The product is a quick cooking oatmeal that as a complex carb would not cause an immediate spike in my blood sugar, just a slow one. I like the quick-cooking oatmeal's texture more than I like Quaker's Old Fashion regular oatmeal. But I’m not talking about the pre-mixed oatmeal in envelopes. I have not tried Quaker’s steel-cut oats yet. The Quick Quaker Oats are a good source of protein and fiber, too. Now, oatmeal is none too flavorful on its own. It needs adjuncts; something to jazz it up and make it interesting for the long-term oatmeal eater. It makes no sense to me to eat something "for my own good" unless it also tastes good. But even if I did have to eat something for my own good that did not taste very good, I would have to start tweaking it. I started my oatmeal tweaking by sweetening it with stevia rather than sugar. Didn't last long. Too much aftertaste for me. Maybe I used too much. Stevia is a rather interesting plant. It’s been used as an alternative to sugar and artificial sweeteners in other countries for years with virtually no side effects. It can only be labeled and sold in the U.S. as a supplement, not a sweetener, thanks to the sugar lobby, high-fructose-corn-syrup makers, and the FDA. A popular soft drink maker with very deep pockets is now trying to get it approved for their drinks and will probably succeed since nearly any manufacturer will have more success with the FDA than would the populace. This is proven by the FDA’s approval of questionable-to-dangerous prescription drugs always flooding the pharmacies. And the drug companies need some way to pay for all the expensive advertising that used to be banned, and to afford the perks they extend to prescribing physicians. But that’s a subject for another day. After a couple of years I have settled on, and enjoy, eating my morning oatmeal sweetened with one or more natural sweeteners. Currently I use molasses, pure maple syrup, and raw honey as sweeteners. Not too much of either, just about a teaspoon. Sunflower kernels are also mixed in, so I get a very good serving of Vitamin E, too. Hazelnut syrup also adds a nice and nutty dimension to the finished flavor, too. Now I’m getting to the cinnamon part of this. Ahh…the cinnamon. I used to buy store-bought cinnamon in the little jars. I thought cinnamon was just that. Cinnamon. And then I began reading about Vietnamese, or Saigon, cinnamon being so much more flavorful. It certainly is. I have become hooked on it. The stuff from the grocery store now tastes like mildly flavored sawdust when compared to Vietnamese cinnamon. Of course the so-called better (more piquant and flavorful) stuff costs quite a bit more than the sawdust variety. But it is so darned good, regardless of whether it is “true cinnamon”, also known as Ceylon cinnamon, or whether it is the related species, cassia cinnamon, which some people say is not true cinnamon. There is currently a sinister and controversial story behind these differences. The name cinnamon is correctly used to refer to Ceylon cinnamon, also known as "true cinnamon" (from the botanical name C. zeylanicum). However, the related species, Cassia (Cinnamomum aromaticum), Saigon Cinnamon (Cinnamomum loureiroi), and Cinnamomum burmannii are sometimes sold labeled as cinnamon, sometimes distinguished from true cinnamon as "Chinese cinnamon", "Vietnamese cinnamon", or "Indonesian cinnamon." Ceylon cinnamon, using only the thin inner bark, has a finer, less dense, and more crumbly texture, and is considered to be less strong than cassia. Cassia has a much stronger (somewhat harsher) flavor than cinnamon, is generally a medium to light reddish brown, hard and woody in texture, and thicker, as all of the layers of the tree's bark are used. In many supermarkets in the United States, products labeled as cinnamon may often be cassia. As if all this is important at 5 a.m. Due to the presence of a moderately toxic component called coumarin, European health agencies have recently warned against consuming high amounts of cassia. We aren’t told what a “high amount” is. Anyway, the culprit is said to be contained in much lower amounts in Cinnamomum burmannii due to its low essential oil content. Coumarin is known to cause liver and kidney damage in high concentrations. True Ceylon cinnamon has negligible amounts of coumarin. Now you understand perfectly, right? Neither do I. Except that the cinnamon usually sold in the U.S. is supposedly bad for us; the cassia. For the most part, I’ll leave it to others to decide. I will just continue to buy Vietnamese cinnamon regardless of which species or variety it is, or how it’s labeled. It's simply, excellent in flavor. Vietnamese cinnamon can be ordered online at Penzeys Spices, or go straight to Penzys cinnamon page. After all, the FDA, in its infinite wisdom surely wouldn’t allow a dangerous product to be sold in the U.S. without a warning label would it? Oh, yes! I just remembered the FDA-approved drug, Vi-xx. Hmmm. Well, too much to do to dwell on it right now. I have to make a trip to my favorite, out of the way, spice shop. I’m almost out of Vietnamese/Saigon cinnamon and my morning oatmeal just wouldn’t be the same without it. - # -

New Blog

10-23-2008. I have wanted to begin this blog-journal for quite some time. My primary purpose in doing so is to have a record of my musings, as odd as they might be and will be. I have no on-line blogging experience, other than reading the blogs of others.