Text 3543, 116 rader
Skriven 2008-03-08 11:39:00 av BOB GEARHART (1:123/140)
     Kommentar till en text av GLEN JAMIESON
Ärende: BICYCLES  80304
=======================
 Glen Jamieson said to Bob Gearhart at 03-05-08  02:31
 Subject: BICYCLES  80304<Glen Jamieson>

 -=> Quoting Bob Gearhart to Glen Jamieson <=-
 
 BG> Darn it, another chance to live off someone elses labors wasted. 
 BG> Guess I just don't think well enough for modern society.
 
 GJ> At least you know the Pilgrim Fathers would understand you.
 
 GJ> You studied different history books.  When I went to school here I was
 GJ> taught that the PFs fled sinful England to set up a society based on
 GJ> hard work, early nights and purity of life styles.  (Or perhaps that
 GJ> is the ideal life that my teachers wished their students to follow?  If
 GJ> so, they failed!)
 
 No the same propaganda was taught in my schools.  But good people
 don't burn others at the stake because they didn't follow precisely
 enough the superstitious requirements of the small group.

 GJ> I know that sort of thing.  It happened to me when I was young, 4 or 5
 GJ> years ago, when I was about your age, when for the first time in my
 GJ> life I came across black ice, in NZ, and tried dancing on it.
 BG> Proof that wisdom does not come automatically with age.  :-)

 GJ> So my children remind me at every opportunity.
 
 Yours too.  Amazing..  :-)

 BG> Another place in my list of places I would like to go when I run away
 BG> from home.

 GJ> You will find the natives there quite friendly - unless you play rugby
 GJ> against them.  Then they dance a haka to work themselves up into a
 GJ> rage, poke out their tongues, rush at you and kill you.
 
 I doubt very much that I would play rugby against anyone today.  There
 was a time a couple years ago, but I am deteriorating drastically with
 the new plan limiting my intake of healthy foods like sugar and more
 sugar, sometimes with chocolate accompanying it.

 BG> I imagine you could do the same thing with roller skates in OZ, but
 BG> the ice has a significant advantage.  When you crash on ice, you just
 BG> slide a long ways in heavy winter clothing.   Crashing in OZ might
 BG> require several layers of skin for braking.

 GJ> Some people here race land yachts on salt lakes, and they go quite
 GJ> fast, but as you point out, if they crash it is much more damaging to
 GJ> exposed skin.

 It is exhilarating to fall off one of those things going very fast and
 to slide to a stop taking up the length of several rugby fields to
 accomplish the braking.
 
 BG> more. And I don't believe I would like sitting in the box, maybe a
 BG> soft seated box.

 GJ> You could chat to the pet dogs and cats in their air freight cages.

 That would be far superior to my last few seat mates.  I've decided as
 I no longer have a company that insist I get from point A to point B
 within their specified time range, I will never ride another airplane
 if I can help it.  Trains and large ships are a far more civilized way
 to travel.
 
 BG> Never ate crock meat but have had alligator.  Taste like chicken.

 GJ> I would expect it to be similar.  Not much flavour at all unless you
 GJ> burn it a bit.  The burnt part tastes much better.

 Thanksgiving is when the family arrives to be fed by their patriarch
 and show their devotion by removing all of leftovers so the patriarch
 doesn't have to contend with them.   Last year the patriarch shopped
 for the usual very large bird and found a nice 24 pounder at a decent
 price.  Crossing over to the market on the other side of the street to
 pick up items not available where the burd was bought, he found that he
 could buy a nice 20 pound bird with his purchases for only nine
 dollars.   When Dorothy ask what the hell are you going to do with 44
 pounds of turkey, the wise old patriarch replied, why cook it of
 course. This year there will be enough left behind for me to also have
 a sandwich the day after.  To which she asked, where. Reactivating the
 grill of course, one in the oven and one in the grill.

 So on the appointed day the wise old patriarch rose early in the
 morning and prepared eight loaves of bread for stuffing, stuffed two
 fairly large birds, put one in the oven on a V rack in the V roaster.
 And one on the grill in the old fashioned  blue thing that hadn't been
 used for a several years.  Set the temperature to 325 on the grill and
 smugly retired to watch TV while the heat did it marvelous work,
 checking every so often to assure out in the garage that the grill
 temperature was being maintained..  Later as the eats arrived, being a
 basic show off, the wise old patriarch took a few to the garage to see
 his wonderful invention in action.  However when he closed the grill
 cover after checking the internal turkey temperature, he screwed up and
 knocked the roaster lid askew.

 So burnt meat being what started this monologue, the bird in the garage
 sat in it's own smoke as the drippings burned off the pan bottom.  It
 was indeed a beautiful sight, all dark brown looking as though it were
 posing for a cover picture on a foodie magazine.  The two birds were
 set at opposite ends of my twenty foot long family table down in the
 basement.  Both were carved on the table.  Which was another innovation
 the wise old patriarch tried to see if a bit more meat might be left
 behind if it wasn't all cut into lovely take home package pieces.  The
 oven turkey tasted like, well roasted turkey.  The grill smoked turkey
 was pretty strong, but everyone at the table commented as how it was
 really good.   Tasting like no turkey they had ever had before.  The
 wise old patriarch was happy and had another glass of wine.  Smug in
 the knowledge he would be eating turkey left overs for sometime.

 Next year, I'll burn another one.

 Bob
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