Well, it happened.
And I have no one to blame but myself.
But for now, whatamiproducing.blogspot.com is being suspended.
I have every intention of starting up somewhere else, because I do enjoy writing, and having 3 other people in the world read it. And I do understand that a blog is a public forum.
But, because there is now a 4th person reading this, a person I’ve spent years trying to stay one step ahead of, I’m moving.
To my blog friends, I’ll email you a new location soon.
To the rest of you, sorry I can’t hang around.
JM
Monday, April 16, 2007
Crabs
My friends live right on the beach, on the west coast of Okinawa. All around the clock there are SCUBA divers in the water out front, checking out a reef and the very cool fish and other water creatures that live in it (around it, under it, I don’t know).
At low tide, the shoreline reveals lots of tidal pools. There’s volcanic rock, covered with seaweed, and then these big puddles of seawater, filled with that same cool oceanic life. Only now it’s accessible to those of us in sandals rather than people with gear strapped to their bodies.
I went wading out yesterday and saw blue fish (not bluefish), starfish, sea cucumbers, and a blowfish that was right out of Finding Nemo.
It’s also a treasure trove of great shells.
I picked up a couple, peered inside, and saw they were still the homes of crabs or gooey things that live in shells, so I tossed those back.
Then I picked up a perfect spiral, with bright red streaks on it, swirling up to a sharp point. It was a keeper. I looked inside, didn’t see anything curled up in it, so I stuck it in my pocket and continued wading.
I got back inside an hour or so later, and put the shell on my dresser to dry out.
We went off to dinner, walked around one of the towns a bit, and got home a few hours later.
I went in my room, and the first thing I noticed was my shell, on the floor, a good 3 yards from the dresser. I seemed unlikely that I had knocked it that far.
My suspicions were confirmed when I picked it up.
This was not your sweet little elementary school hermit crab inside. It was a long hairy legged, tarantula looking, angry crustacean, wondering why it wasn’t in its warm puddle of seawater.
I tried to scare it back into its shell. It was too pissed to be scared.
I retired from baseball this year. I couldn’t hit a 26-year-old’s slider anymore. I can still field and throw.
And I threw the shell through the living room door, across the street, over the beach, and right back into the China Sea.
I have no doubt the thing was fine. The nasty monsters always survive.
At low tide, the shoreline reveals lots of tidal pools. There’s volcanic rock, covered with seaweed, and then these big puddles of seawater, filled with that same cool oceanic life. Only now it’s accessible to those of us in sandals rather than people with gear strapped to their bodies.
I went wading out yesterday and saw blue fish (not bluefish), starfish, sea cucumbers, and a blowfish that was right out of Finding Nemo.
It’s also a treasure trove of great shells.
I picked up a couple, peered inside, and saw they were still the homes of crabs or gooey things that live in shells, so I tossed those back.
Then I picked up a perfect spiral, with bright red streaks on it, swirling up to a sharp point. It was a keeper. I looked inside, didn’t see anything curled up in it, so I stuck it in my pocket and continued wading.
I got back inside an hour or so later, and put the shell on my dresser to dry out.
We went off to dinner, walked around one of the towns a bit, and got home a few hours later.
I went in my room, and the first thing I noticed was my shell, on the floor, a good 3 yards from the dresser. I seemed unlikely that I had knocked it that far.
My suspicions were confirmed when I picked it up.
This was not your sweet little elementary school hermit crab inside. It was a long hairy legged, tarantula looking, angry crustacean, wondering why it wasn’t in its warm puddle of seawater.
I tried to scare it back into its shell. It was too pissed to be scared.
I retired from baseball this year. I couldn’t hit a 26-year-old’s slider anymore. I can still field and throw.
And I threw the shell through the living room door, across the street, over the beach, and right back into the China Sea.
I have no doubt the thing was fine. The nasty monsters always survive.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
So Much To Learn
Did you know there are more than 1800 varieties of pineapples?
That as just one of the things I learned today at Pineapple Park near the city of Nago on Okinawa. It’s not as big as Disney, but boy are they able to pack in a lot of fun in just a little space.
The experience starts in a pineapple-shaped golf cart, and that’s where you feel the true magic of it all.
The cart drives itself!
It may be the power of pineapples that propels it, but somehow, the cart knows where to turn, when to stop and just the right speed at which to travel.
This part of the visit lasts about 10 minutes. Then, before you now it, you’re in the pineapple wine tasting room. Sweet, dry, and dessert are the three main types, and you’re allowed as much as you want, in thimble sized portions.
Honestly, it’s not all that bad. I wouldn’t pull out a bottle for a dinner party, but considering it’s from pineapples, it’s quite drinkable.
Then there’s the foodmart, but it’s not just straight-off-the-plant pineapples, there’s pineapple cake, pineapple jewelry, pineapple soap (I swear), and this horrific pineapple gel stuff.
And they also had sugar cane.
Oh… I also learned that pineapple has enzymes that help digest meat.
Which is good, because last night’s Japanese barbeque had a little extra something with it. We either ate nuggets of chicken cartilage or pig knuckles. We couldn’t tell and there was a major language gap. Whatever it was, it tasted ok, but calling it chewy would be an understatement. In fact, I could still be gnawing on it tonight if I wanted.
A little extra pineapple in my stomach will be a big help.
That as just one of the things I learned today at Pineapple Park near the city of Nago on Okinawa. It’s not as big as Disney, but boy are they able to pack in a lot of fun in just a little space.
The experience starts in a pineapple-shaped golf cart, and that’s where you feel the true magic of it all.
The cart drives itself!
It may be the power of pineapples that propels it, but somehow, the cart knows where to turn, when to stop and just the right speed at which to travel.
This part of the visit lasts about 10 minutes. Then, before you now it, you’re in the pineapple wine tasting room. Sweet, dry, and dessert are the three main types, and you’re allowed as much as you want, in thimble sized portions.
Honestly, it’s not all that bad. I wouldn’t pull out a bottle for a dinner party, but considering it’s from pineapples, it’s quite drinkable.
Then there’s the foodmart, but it’s not just straight-off-the-plant pineapples, there’s pineapple cake, pineapple jewelry, pineapple soap (I swear), and this horrific pineapple gel stuff.
And they also had sugar cane.
Oh… I also learned that pineapple has enzymes that help digest meat.
Which is good, because last night’s Japanese barbeque had a little extra something with it. We either ate nuggets of chicken cartilage or pig knuckles. We couldn’t tell and there was a major language gap. Whatever it was, it tasted ok, but calling it chewy would be an understatement. In fact, I could still be gnawing on it tonight if I wanted.
A little extra pineapple in my stomach will be a big help.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Snack Time
I know… I’ve been here for 4 days and I haven’t written a thing. Take that as a good sign.
This first part of the trip is in Okinawa, where my college roommate and his wife live.
So far I’ve eaten a lot of cool food, and only once have I had something gross.
I’m willing to try most things, so last night at the minimart, I grabbed a bag of these things that looked like green stars. They felt like they’d have a bit of crunch to them.
We were pretty sure, although not positive, that we hadn’t grabbed a bag of cat food, so as we walked up the street and opened the bag, we decided we’d just pop a couple in our mouths.
Again, realizing we could have some sort of exotic pet food in our hands, we looked closely at the locals, to see if they were watching us in horror, or laughing their asses off at the stupid Americans who were about to eat Kibbles 'N' Bits.
Not seeing that, we each took a bite.
It’s interesting how the brain works when it comes to identifying tastes. When you bite into a piece of fish, even if you don’t know what kind of fish it is, you’re prepared for a fishy flavor. When it’s a fruit, your tongue is prepared for fruit.
We didn’t know what to expect, and it took several seconds to identify the flavor, and to determine that we really didn’t like it.
They sort of tasted like cheese puffs, with a sugary coating. The consistency was of old meringue. There was also a buttery feel. And maybe a hint of mint.
The rest of the bag is in the glove compartment. I figure if my hosts ever get stuck in the wilderness and need some food to survive, they’ll eat the leftovers.
This first part of the trip is in Okinawa, where my college roommate and his wife live.
So far I’ve eaten a lot of cool food, and only once have I had something gross.
I’m willing to try most things, so last night at the minimart, I grabbed a bag of these things that looked like green stars. They felt like they’d have a bit of crunch to them.
We were pretty sure, although not positive, that we hadn’t grabbed a bag of cat food, so as we walked up the street and opened the bag, we decided we’d just pop a couple in our mouths.
Again, realizing we could have some sort of exotic pet food in our hands, we looked closely at the locals, to see if they were watching us in horror, or laughing their asses off at the stupid Americans who were about to eat Kibbles 'N' Bits.
Not seeing that, we each took a bite.
It’s interesting how the brain works when it comes to identifying tastes. When you bite into a piece of fish, even if you don’t know what kind of fish it is, you’re prepared for a fishy flavor. When it’s a fruit, your tongue is prepared for fruit.
We didn’t know what to expect, and it took several seconds to identify the flavor, and to determine that we really didn’t like it.
They sort of tasted like cheese puffs, with a sugary coating. The consistency was of old meringue. There was also a buttery feel. And maybe a hint of mint.
The rest of the bag is in the glove compartment. I figure if my hosts ever get stuck in the wilderness and need some food to survive, they’ll eat the leftovers.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
The Longest Day
I have just landed in Tokyo... not really sure what day it is. And I still have another 3 hour flight to Okinawa.
Here's what I wrote while airborne:
According to my little readout, I am at 34,000 feet, cruising at a ground speed just below 500 miles per hour, over the frozen tundra of Alberta, Canada.
My day started at 5am, eastern time. They say get to the airport two hours early for international flights. I’m sure they were doing something important behind the scenes, but I was through security and at gate D11 by 6:10, for an 8:02 flight.
As I wrote earlier, I do enjoy flying. I do not enjoy the complete lack of customer care that comes from the airlines. And it’s not just the big things, like lost luggage, sitting on the tarmac for hours on end, being shuffled from one gate to another. It’s the little things too.
Flight number one for me today was on United Airlines to Chicago. We boarded, and it wasn’t even close to being a full plane. As the flight attendants did their preflight scurrying, I asked one if I could move up to the emergency exit row. I have long legs, and I’m more than willing to be the man who kicks people in the ass if their too slow jumping through the emergency hatch while the cabin is on fire.
The guy told me no, no I couldn’t. It seems that United now charges people extra to sit in that row. I understand that there is a premium economy class on United. Pay $40 extra and you get a few extra inches for your legs. They have a special section.
I didn’t know that the cheap mother fuckers were now charging people to sit by the escape hatch. I thought the responsibility of all of those lives would weigh heavily enough on my shoulders, and that would be the burden I’d carry in return for not having my knees forced back into my chin.
Update… we just cranked up the speed a notch… we’re doing 512mph.
Now I am on flight two. Air Nippon from Chicago to Tokyo.
On this one I am in the exit row and it’s glorious. I couldn’t touch the wall in front of me if I wanted to. No one else is in my row, I have my own little video screen on the arm of my chair. It’s great.
I just finished Casino Royale. I think he’s the coolest Bond in a long time. Some of the movie was a little, well, not so good, but whatever. I’m on a 13 hour flight. There will come a point where I’ll be willing to watch Barney episodes.
I was saddened a bit by the meal we just had. No airline sushi. It was sweet and sour fish, noodles, salad and a cup of Haagen Daz. Yes, I know, it’s better than anything US Airways will ever serve, but come on, I want maki.
Here's what I wrote while airborne:
According to my little readout, I am at 34,000 feet, cruising at a ground speed just below 500 miles per hour, over the frozen tundra of Alberta, Canada.
My day started at 5am, eastern time. They say get to the airport two hours early for international flights. I’m sure they were doing something important behind the scenes, but I was through security and at gate D11 by 6:10, for an 8:02 flight.
As I wrote earlier, I do enjoy flying. I do not enjoy the complete lack of customer care that comes from the airlines. And it’s not just the big things, like lost luggage, sitting on the tarmac for hours on end, being shuffled from one gate to another. It’s the little things too.
Flight number one for me today was on United Airlines to Chicago. We boarded, and it wasn’t even close to being a full plane. As the flight attendants did their preflight scurrying, I asked one if I could move up to the emergency exit row. I have long legs, and I’m more than willing to be the man who kicks people in the ass if their too slow jumping through the emergency hatch while the cabin is on fire.
The guy told me no, no I couldn’t. It seems that United now charges people extra to sit in that row. I understand that there is a premium economy class on United. Pay $40 extra and you get a few extra inches for your legs. They have a special section.
I didn’t know that the cheap mother fuckers were now charging people to sit by the escape hatch. I thought the responsibility of all of those lives would weigh heavily enough on my shoulders, and that would be the burden I’d carry in return for not having my knees forced back into my chin.
Update… we just cranked up the speed a notch… we’re doing 512mph.
Now I am on flight two. Air Nippon from Chicago to Tokyo.
On this one I am in the exit row and it’s glorious. I couldn’t touch the wall in front of me if I wanted to. No one else is in my row, I have my own little video screen on the arm of my chair. It’s great.
I just finished Casino Royale. I think he’s the coolest Bond in a long time. Some of the movie was a little, well, not so good, but whatever. I’m on a 13 hour flight. There will come a point where I’ll be willing to watch Barney episodes.
I was saddened a bit by the meal we just had. No airline sushi. It was sweet and sour fish, noodles, salad and a cup of Haagen Daz. Yes, I know, it’s better than anything US Airways will ever serve, but come on, I want maki.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
The Wild Blue Yonder
I'm two days away from my great Japanese voyage.
(Burglars take note, I may be out of town for two weeks, but I'm leaving hungry poisonous snakes in my apartment, so don't even think about breaking in.)
I'm a good packer, for the most part. It's a little easier for this trip, because for the first week I'll be staying with friends, and I'm pretty sure they have laundry.
What always stumps me is the carry-on luggage plan. My airline will allow one carry-on bag, but I think that really means two bags, one bag bag and one purse-like personal carrying system. Because the flight takes a really long time, I need to pack entertainment, a clean shirt, a toothbrush, and more entertainment.
I am not rich enough for first or business class, but I did get an emergency exit row. Should we make a rough landing in the Pacific, I'll be the guy standing on the wing, heroically leading my fellow passengers into the shark infested waters. It's a small price to pay for a few extra inches of leg room.
I actually like flying, and this airline even serves sushi on board. Airline sushi is something I must try.
There are two minor questions I have with the carrier, however. For undisclosed reasons, the FBI raided their American offices a month ago. I'd like to know why. If there's an issue with the flight attendants serving airline sushi past its expiration date, I'd like a heads up before I order the blowfish. Also, a few mechanics were accused of making repairs on things they weren't actually qualified to fix. Again, if the plane's rice steamer was worked on by someone who is not certified, I want a warning.
I checked the flight route. It's fascinating. I'd always sort of thought we'd fly west over the U.S., head out over the Pacific, see Hawaii out the window and hit Japan that way. Apparently not. We'll head over Canada, Alaska and skirt the east coast of Russia, heading southwest to Japan.
Still, looking out the window won't keep me entertained for all of the 13 airborne hours.
So I'll have crossword puzzles, books, magazines, IPod, audio books, and my laptop.
What else do I need?
No, that's not rhetorical, seriously, what else do I need? Any suggestions?
(Burglars take note, I may be out of town for two weeks, but I'm leaving hungry poisonous snakes in my apartment, so don't even think about breaking in.)
I'm a good packer, for the most part. It's a little easier for this trip, because for the first week I'll be staying with friends, and I'm pretty sure they have laundry.
What always stumps me is the carry-on luggage plan. My airline will allow one carry-on bag, but I think that really means two bags, one bag bag and one purse-like personal carrying system. Because the flight takes a really long time, I need to pack entertainment, a clean shirt, a toothbrush, and more entertainment.
I am not rich enough for first or business class, but I did get an emergency exit row. Should we make a rough landing in the Pacific, I'll be the guy standing on the wing, heroically leading my fellow passengers into the shark infested waters. It's a small price to pay for a few extra inches of leg room.
I actually like flying, and this airline even serves sushi on board. Airline sushi is something I must try.
There are two minor questions I have with the carrier, however. For undisclosed reasons, the FBI raided their American offices a month ago. I'd like to know why. If there's an issue with the flight attendants serving airline sushi past its expiration date, I'd like a heads up before I order the blowfish. Also, a few mechanics were accused of making repairs on things they weren't actually qualified to fix. Again, if the plane's rice steamer was worked on by someone who is not certified, I want a warning.
I checked the flight route. It's fascinating. I'd always sort of thought we'd fly west over the U.S., head out over the Pacific, see Hawaii out the window and hit Japan that way. Apparently not. We'll head over Canada, Alaska and skirt the east coast of Russia, heading southwest to Japan.
Still, looking out the window won't keep me entertained for all of the 13 airborne hours.
So I'll have crossword puzzles, books, magazines, IPod, audio books, and my laptop.
What else do I need?
No, that's not rhetorical, seriously, what else do I need? Any suggestions?
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Look Out For The Other Guy
This just in from the Associated Press:
LOS ANGELES (AP) - Film director Robert Clark, best known for the beloved holiday classic "A Christmas Story," and his son were killed Wednesday in a car wreck, the filmmaker's assistant and police said... The driver of the other car was under the influence of alcohol and was driving without a license.
I am a good driver. I have good reflexes and pretty good instincts, and have been able to avoid disaster a couple of times. But as the above story shows, there are times when the best drivers in the world are flat out screwed by people who are assholes and don't give a fuck about anyone else on the road.
Last week, my friend Mike, whom you may remember from the near-bar-fight story, was sitting at a red light. He had come to a full stop, and was just waiting for the light to change.
That's when he heard the squealing brakes behind him.
The impact sent his car flying into the intersection, only luck kept him from getting hit by any oncoming cars. It took a moment for him to gather his wits, but when all was said and done, he was ok, sore, but not seriously injured.
I turns out a cop witnessed the whole thing, and upon questioning, figured out the other driver was hammered. But he was also fine. The drunk drivers always are.
It's the people they crash into who are fucked.
Mike's car, a paid off, but fairly old Audi, is a total loss as far as the insurance company is concerned. To him, it was as good as new. Now he has to buy a new one, with about $10,000 in insurance money. Sure, he could sue the guy who hit him, but there's no point. The other guy did have insurance, but the bare bones kind for people who only want the least amount of legal coverage. Her won't have any money of his own.
So Mike is screwed. Alive, and aware of how much worse it could have been, but screwed nonetheless.
Robert Clark and his son Ariel aren't so lucky. 24-year-old Hector Velazquez-Nava, the driver of the other car, is alive.
Like I said, it's the people they crash into who are fucked.
LOS ANGELES (AP) - Film director Robert Clark, best known for the beloved holiday classic "A Christmas Story," and his son were killed Wednesday in a car wreck, the filmmaker's assistant and police said... The driver of the other car was under the influence of alcohol and was driving without a license.
I am a good driver. I have good reflexes and pretty good instincts, and have been able to avoid disaster a couple of times. But as the above story shows, there are times when the best drivers in the world are flat out screwed by people who are assholes and don't give a fuck about anyone else on the road.
Last week, my friend Mike, whom you may remember from the near-bar-fight story, was sitting at a red light. He had come to a full stop, and was just waiting for the light to change.
That's when he heard the squealing brakes behind him.
The impact sent his car flying into the intersection, only luck kept him from getting hit by any oncoming cars. It took a moment for him to gather his wits, but when all was said and done, he was ok, sore, but not seriously injured.
I turns out a cop witnessed the whole thing, and upon questioning, figured out the other driver was hammered. But he was also fine. The drunk drivers always are.
It's the people they crash into who are fucked.
Mike's car, a paid off, but fairly old Audi, is a total loss as far as the insurance company is concerned. To him, it was as good as new. Now he has to buy a new one, with about $10,000 in insurance money. Sure, he could sue the guy who hit him, but there's no point. The other guy did have insurance, but the bare bones kind for people who only want the least amount of legal coverage. Her won't have any money of his own.
So Mike is screwed. Alive, and aware of how much worse it could have been, but screwed nonetheless.
Robert Clark and his son Ariel aren't so lucky. 24-year-old Hector Velazquez-Nava, the driver of the other car, is alive.
Like I said, it's the people they crash into who are fucked.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Play Ball!
Opening day is all about hope, rebirth, a new chance for greatness.
Reverse play-by-play.
* * *
And just like that, the fresh start comes to a crashing halt.
I will, as always, back my Fightin' Phils right down to the last pitch of the season, but, alas, they've already chipped away another little bit of me.
*
That fucker Renteria. Phils down by 2 in the 10th.
*
Extra innings, my friends.
*
Crud... 0 and 2 pitch to Renteria, right into the centerfield bushes. And we're tied. Myers is going to the showers.
*
Ooops... Braves drop a ball, and suddenly we're ahead.
*
Bang! The game is tied at 2!
*
Rollins puts it into the rightfield stands... 2-1
*
After 4, Atlanta 2-Phillies 0... Howard is screwed on a bad call
*
At the end of 2, 0-0
*
Phillies vs. Braves 1:05pm
Reverse play-by-play.
* * *
And just like that, the fresh start comes to a crashing halt.
I will, as always, back my Fightin' Phils right down to the last pitch of the season, but, alas, they've already chipped away another little bit of me.
*
That fucker Renteria. Phils down by 2 in the 10th.
*
Extra innings, my friends.
*
Crud... 0 and 2 pitch to Renteria, right into the centerfield bushes. And we're tied. Myers is going to the showers.
*
Ooops... Braves drop a ball, and suddenly we're ahead.
*
Bang! The game is tied at 2!
*
Rollins puts it into the rightfield stands... 2-1
*
After 4, Atlanta 2-Phillies 0... Howard is screwed on a bad call
*
At the end of 2, 0-0
*
Phillies vs. Braves 1:05pm
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