Remember, Not Relive

I want to remember the people, but not relive the day…

Down Under Jerky

Today I had the pleasure(?) of sampling “jerky” versions of three animals native to Australia–crocodile, kangaroo and emu. Thanks to co-worker Steve for bringing these fascinating packets of dried and cured fauna back from his recent trip.

The emu was my favorite, with the least gamy and somewhat turkey-ish flavor. The croc was not too bad either, though this particular jerked version was somewhat spicy. It had a faint taste similar to the smell that reptiles have at the zoo or pet store. It’s almost a fish-like taste, but more earthy. Which makes sense if you think about it!

The kangaroo was disgusting. I expected more of a deer flavor, but it tasted almost rancid and vaguely toward the rotting flesh end of the scale. So tie me kangaroo down, sport–and leave him for the vultures.

Maybe this is a silly experience to write about, but it does illustrate how far I’ve come since my recent bout with the stomach flu. Now I can eat salty and exotic meats with the best of them. 😀

Mark E. Smith And The Meaning Of Wildlife

  VS. 

Back when I was a rabid fan of The Fall, I never imagined a day when I would read an article about Mark E. Smith’s murderous hatred of squirrels. Are they spoilt Victorian squirrels? And does he hit ’em over the head with a 2×4? So many fan questions remain unanswered by the AFP report.

The most important tidbit we learn is that, according to Mr. Smith, “Squirrels mean nothing to me.” With this in mind, I need to pull out all 498 of my Fall albums and listen through them yet again. This time, searching for clues about the development of his cryptic philosophy regarding the meaning of squirrels.

As for the RSPCA, good luck with your efforts to silence Smith. No one’s been able to do that for the past 30 years. Also be aware that “R.S.P.C.A.” is exactly the sort of title he gives to his obscure and often vitriolic songs.

Now where did I put my pellet gun? It’s springtime here in Virginia and these songbirds are about to drive me CRAZY!

The Agony Of Unique

During a training session I’m attending this week, the instructor asked each of us to introduce ourselves and to share something unique about ourselves. For the first time in my life, I had no unique qualities to report. I simply said “there’s nothing really unique about me” to relieve the pressure of the moment. Then the spotlight moved to someone else.

Strangely, this seemed to be the most honest and correct answer. I’m suddenly SO OVER being unique.

 At some point during my early years in school, I embraced uniqueness as a defense mechanism against “coolness” (which was conformist), blandness (which is a far too easy and prevalent trap) and studiousness (which was, for me, impossible). Over the years it became my creed, as an outside-the-system kind of guy in school and an outside-the-box kind of thinker in the workplace. But while the concept of “unique” is fine on a personal level, it doesn’t really stir much reverence in general society.

One man’s uniqueness can be another man’s ho-hum. So why should I spout off about it to co-workers and pretend that it matters to anyone? If I had climbed Mount Everest blindfolded, or stowed away on a space shuttle flight, or resurrected a long-frozen wooly mammoth with a hair dryer and a car battery–well, then I might have spoken up.

Being truly unique is a lot of work. And while it was a perfectly reasonable goal when I was younger, now it hardly matters in the least. Perhaps this is part of being a parent. It’s now up to my kids to be unique, while I become the dad who isn’t supposed to be too freaky lest I risk embarrassing the girls in front of their friends.

I guess the most unique thing about me these days is that I just want to be as non-unique as possible and go relatively unnoticed. A true “behind the scenes” sort of character.

So why am I spilling all this out in a public blog? 🙂

April, Peaks Of Otter

 

Peed The Fig

I’m always annoyed when that freaky, stern man/pig hybrid rudely interrupts the guy who’s trying to buy a big screen TV in the “Feed The Pig” public service commercial. But that’s a subject for another, much longer post.

Today I’m writing to help you starve your meddling, stick-in-the-mud, party pooping pig. Sure, the poor swine will suffer, but the rest of us normal humans will be wallowing in sloppy new merch. Time to re-memorize those credit card numbers, because today I happened upon the Deal Of The Day Tracker site! It’s simply a great little site that tracks daily deals from all the sources you’d expect.

And if you notice the right-hand sidebar of this blog, I’ve added their RSS feed so you can keep up with the latest deals while “voiding out” here with me.

Does this present more ways to spend, or more ways to save? OINK!, I say.

Insides Are Out

Is it a virus? Or is it food poisoning? Either way, I’m horribly sick. It’s both frustrating and disgusting, and I feel very much like this infamous guy:

Now back to sleep.