My First Piece

Meat and potatoes.  Potatoes and meat.  Except for breakfast: pancakes and meat.  Meat and pancakes.  For 18 years.  Well, not quite 18 years; I was probably eating some kind of revolting mushy stuff the first couple years.  The high school cafeteria had a slightly more varied menu, but nothing memorable.

Mom was a decent cook but lacked the time and energy to be creative.  Feeding a family of 10 plus related household chores was burden enough.  Even if she had the time and energy, culinary creativity wasn't in the cards.  Dad liked meat and potatoes.  Fried.  Always fried.  The more grease, the better.

It was early September, 1962, when I headed off to college.  Shortly thereafter I had My First Piece! Pizza!  OMG!  Thought I'd died and gone to heaven.  Burned the roof of my mouth.  Didn't care. Couldn't wait to bite into that glorious stuff.

Pizza was coming on strong in the Midwest back then, probably a couple years behind the coastal cities.  Pizza restaurants popping up all over, grocery shelves stocked with DIY pizza kits.  Remember Chef Boyardee?  Pathetic excuse for pizza!  If you were blindfolded and someone gave you a taste of CB pizza, could you tell what it was supposed to be?  Maybe.

By the way, the Chef lives on, is still available at your finer (?) grocery stores.  Another once-popular item is also still available: Spam.  Pull out all the stops some evening, take a culinary trip down memory lane: chop up some Spam, spread it on your CB pizza, fire up your lava lamp, play your Henry Mancini album.

Are You Cracked?

I haven't heard anyone ask that question for 60 years.  My dad was the asker, never heard anyone else ask the question.  Ever the subtle, understated and soft-spoken guy (not), it was his method of informing you that whatever you were doing, or intended to do, was asinine.

An informal definition of the word 'cracked', is nuts, crazy, insane, deranged.

No family member ever responded to the question.  Certainly not me.  What were you gonna say?  "Damned right!"  "No, are you?"  Uh uh!  Talking back to The Man was not in one's best interests if you get my drift.  There came a time though, that I could have responded with a simple and truthful, "Yup!"

I'd just turned 11 and had received a cap gun, holster and western motif shirt for my birthday.  The shirt had my name on it.  Damn, I was cool!  I just had to show off my outfit to one and all.  One and all included a couple of guys who'd bought some grain and were shoveling it into a trailer in our granary the day after my birthday.  I donned my gear, moseyed on over to the granary, climbed into the back of the trailer and proceeded to strut my stuff.

The strutting came to an abrupt halt when I lost my balance, fell backwards off the trailer and landed on my head on the concrete floor.  I was in and out of consciousness, barfing my guts out.  It appeared unlikely the young gunslinger would be up for his duel with Black Bart on main street at high noon the next day.

Dad hauled me off to hospital where they did x-rays.  Diagnosis: fractured skull, big crack right up the middle in back.  The doc, wondering if indeed I was cracked the other way, asked me my name.

I was still wearing that shirt with my name on it.  I pointed to the shirt and replied, "My name is Mike!  Can't you read?"  Doc figured I would be okay, then - aside from being a smart ass little shit, a condition he probably diagnosed as being incurable (and he was right).

Doc gave me an ultimatum, "You have to spend the next 6 weeks flat on your back while your head heals up.  If you can't do that, we'll have to bolt your head down."  I quickly chose the no-bolt option.

Finally, I had a response to the question, "Are you cracked?"

Pulitzer Prize

Trish is in a ladies' book club, attended the club's last meeting of the season yesterday.  She mentioned that one of the other club members has a goal: reading every Pulitzer Prize fiction novel.  Wow!  That's quite a challenge.  That got me wondering: how many prize novels are there?  And, how many have I read?  And, who was this Pulitzer guy, anyway?

The Pulitzer Prizes started in 1917, 100 years ago.  Prizes weren't awarded every year in every category, however.  And, the categories have changed over the years; the fiction category used to be included in the novel category.  Currently, there are 22 categories but that's not a constant because the categories morph and evolve.

I scanned the list of fiction/novel winners, found numerous books I've read, 20 or so, and of course, many well known books I've not read.  Didn't count them all, but many were made into movies.  Here are the links if you're curious:
novels: http://www.pulitzer.org/prize-winners-by-category/261
fiction: http://www.pulitzer.org/prize-winners-by-category/219

Who was Pulitzer?  A publisher; Joseph Pulitzer was born in 1847, died 1911.  He was a contemporary and competitor of William Randolph Hearst of Hearst Castle fame.  He's credited with - or blamed for - creating yellow journalism, the sensationalist kind of trash found in the National Enquirer and several similar rags.  What a guy!  What would we line our bird cages with if it wasn't for good 'ol Joe?

Joe bequeathed funds to Columbia University for the Prizes, and also for the Columbia School of Journalism.  So, all in all, a pretty good guy despite the yellow stuff.  He was active in politics and served in the US Congress.  

Lots of folks do read the National Enquirer, and I've often wondered why they bother.  I used to enjoy comic books when I was a kid.  Rags like the NE are comic books for adults I guess, periodical escapes from the harsh realities of life.  Only the terminally gullible think the content is non-fiction.  

Special Edition!

Oh yeah!  I am indeed the proud owner of a Special Edition.  There may have been other Special Editions in my checkered past but none come to mind at the moment.  This could be a first!

The SE's predecessor slipped out of my hand and went splat on the unforgiving tile floor.  Post splat, it started and stopped, operated at half speed, obviously circling the drain and primed for owner assisted suicide.  I obliged, tossed it into the waste basket.

Went online, checked the usual suspects for a replacement: Amazon, Walmart, etc, seeking (as always) the biggest bang for the buck.  Couldn't believe the number of models - and prices - out there; Amazon had 37 models with prices ranging from $15 to $220.  Gotta wonder about the high-end models: do they do the job better - faster, deeper, harder?  I doubt it.  But hey, they include a branded charging glass with USB cord!  Whoop-de-freakin'-doo!

Ended up going to Walmart which had 8 models in stock, $25 - $190, including aforesaid USB model.  And, the SE.  Wow!  Special Edition!  In stock!  Only $40!  Tossed that puppy into the cart and boogied on to toilet paper, coffee filters, bananas, blah, blah, blah.

Okay, I've made you wait long enough.  Here it is.  Eat your heart out!  You may be wondering what makes the SE so S.  Me too.  Looks exactly like the one I gave Trish for Christmas except for color; her's is blue.

Yep, it's a Sonicare toothbrush, been using them for decades, great little machine except for the built in dumb-ass features: beeps at 15 seconds, stops at 1 minute.  Those irritating features may be helpful in training a 5-year old but I'm a 2-minute kind of guy.

Reflection, Part 2

The Reflection is a quantum leap above the Cougar in amenities and conveniences, not a Rolls Royce but definitely a high-end Buick.  Of course, the major thing for Trish is that the color goes well with the new truck.  Well ......maybe not THE major thing - but it's right up there.

The interior is more tastefully done than was the Cougar,which boasted Early French Whorehouse decor (it didn't boast for long though; I ripped out the curvy valances and window side wings the minute Trish gave me the go ahead.)  Conveniences the Cougar lacked include a high powered exhaust fan with wall-mounted control panel, automatic leveling (a biggie), convection microwave.

Amenities include heated recliners, and, would you believe, an electric fireplace?  At first, we thought what a joke, a fireplace for cripes sake.  Now, we're thinking Oh Yeah, crank that puppy up and take off the morning chill!  It's located below the TV.

It's 31' long, a hair longer than the Cougar but has more floor space - 3 slides instead of 1.  The dry weight's about the same, 8K and change, more aluminum, less wood.

This being our 4th RV, we know the drill when it comes to upgrades and enhancements, and we start slapping them on right away.  For the last several days we've had daily deliveries of goodies from Amazon, etrailer, et al.

Now, I'm in install mode: single control bathroom faucet and shower valve, paper towel holders in kitchen and basement, 2 propane gas gauges, 3 entry step covers, 2 closet shelves, extra sewer hose storage tube, screen door grille and handle, 3 roof vent covers, 2 level indicators, fridge fan, hangers for hoses, electrical cords, towels, and keys.  And a partridge in a pear tree.

Reflection, Part One

There was nothing much wrong with my old truck, a 2013 RAM 2500.  It had its quirks but pulled the Cougar just fine.  I was in a time bind when I bought it, with no viable options available in make, model or trim level.  It was basic, and - despite my well-earned reputation for frugality - I'm pretty much done with basic. 

My 2017 Chevy Silverado isn't basic.  It's loaded with goodies and creature comforts that will be much appreciated by this old creature - and my favorite female creature as well.  That said, the new truck came with a major problem: the bed is 5" higher than the old truck, and the side rails are higher also.  You have to pole vault into the bed if there's no stepladder handy.  

The real problem though is that the Chevy and Cougar aren't a match made in heaven.  Not even close.  They have irreconcilable differences: truck is too high, 5W is too low, no way in hell to make them compatible.  So, the RAM is gone (traded in), new truck sits in garage, Cougar sits a few feet away, can't move trailer with truck, now what?

Raise the 5W?  Not good.  Lower the truck?  Even less good.  Replace the Cougar?  Maybe.  But: we love the Cougar, have added lots of upgrades, got it just the way we want it - with one exception: we decided to convert the fold-out sofa/bed to a day bed.  Two days prior to getting the truck, I ripped into that old sofa/bed, totally demolished it and set the pieces out for the trash hauler.  Lovely.  Just freakin' lovely!  Can't move Cougar, have to sell it in place, and I just made it less sell-able.  Talk about shitty timing!

The above situation was resolved several days ago.  We drove up to Las Vegas, traded in the Cougar, and bought a new 5W that would work with the truck.  The new rig, made by Grand Design, is a Reflection 29 RS, pictures and details coming in next post.

 

Coolest Rest Stop Ever

This rest stop, on US 95 in southwest Nevada, merits the Coolest Rest Stop Ever Award.  

That truck is pretty cool, too.

Yeah, that's my new truck, 2017 Silverado 2500.  Trish likes it but Ranger and Artie are reticent, apparently unimpressed with the heated leather seats.  We're on our way to Las Vegas on a shopping spree, racking up break-in miles so the truck is ready to tow the RV.  

I'll divulge the main objective of the trip in a later post.