Doug Makes Dinner

As many of you know, Wednesday night here at The Dunnevant house has always been a night fraught with culinary risk. This is the night where I am tasked with preparing dinner. My wife has a Yoga class that doesn’t let out until 7:30, so it’s my job on this one night to have dinner on the table when she gets home. Generally it works this way...Pam picks out something for me to make, does most of the groundwork in advance, stages everything on the counter with easy, often moronically simple written instructions, then leaves me to it. Well, yesterday I was feeling oddly adventurous, and when she asked me if there was anything in particular that I wanted to make, I replied..How about you let me do dinner by myself? I’ll plan a menu, go the grocery store and then make everything myself without any of your help! There was a pregnant pause...then she answered...Oooooo-K? The questioning intonation in her voice being no accident.

It was only later when I got to the office that the folly of my actions became apparent to me. Who was I kidding? I don’t know the first thing about planning a menu. Look, I’m great at ordering takeout. I have no peer when it comes to heating up soup. But when it comes to making a dinner, my past record did not offer much in the way of confidence. Panicked, I asked my assistant for help:

Me: Kristin, I promised Pam that I would make dinner tonight myself with no help from her. What do I do??

Kristin: What were you thinking??

Me: That’s not important now...what do I do??

Kristin: Why don’t you go to the grocery store and get one of those Zatarain’s dinners? It will list everything you need right on the box.

Me: That’s genius!

So the next thing you know, there I am at Publix standing at the Zatarain’s display, when I spot this:

Score! I love jambalaya! Ever since I was a kid and lived in New Orleans for three years, I have had a fondness for anything Creole. The back of the package suggested that I add either shrimp, or sausage. I decided on both. Pam was going to be so proud of me!! Then I happened to spot this on the same aisle:

What luck! Two of my favorite foods in one meal. This was gonna be great!

When it came time to prepare the meal, I laid everything out just like my wife does, everything handy and in its spot. Then I read the first line of the instructions...pour 2 and a half cups of water into a 3 quart saucepan. Oh crap, what’s a 3 quart saucepan look like? We must have ten pans in our kitchen...which one is 3 quarts?? Quickly, I fired off a text with this picture to Kristin,(since she had been the one who had gotten me into this)...

Me: Is this a 3 quart saucepan???

Kristin: I think so...

An inauspicious beginning. But, I rallied and soon the house was filled with the aroma of Cajun spices. The best part was that I timed everything out perfectly, the rolls coming out of the oven the very second that Pam walked through the door. Something smells good, she observed correctly! 

Ok...the jambalaya was very good, although a bit sticky. The red beans and rice were passable. The rolls were tasty. I was very pleased with myself. I did, however, notice that Pam wasn’t exactly devouring the feast set before her. Don’t you like it? I asked.

Then a very familiar expression came over my wife’s face. I know it well. It starts with a smile that is trying not to look dismissive. This is the look she gets when she’s about to correct me or point out some dumb thing that I have done. The smile is a disarming defense mechanism and basically means nothing. Then she says...No honey, it was very good, and it was really sweet of you to do this...

The word BUT had just taken out a full page advertisement in the Dunnevant Dispatch newspaper and was about to enter the conversation...

Pam:....but....there were no vegetables...just, like, two rice dishes and...bread....no vegetables.

Then, she broadened the smile and tilted her head to one side, and I knew that one of those bless your heart moments had arrived:

Pam: What in this world would you do without me?

So, there you have it. I had prepared the perfect meal for a third grade boy. But, on the bright side, we’ve taken care of our starch requirements for the rest of the month!

Is Winning Everything?

I watched a clip on one of the cable news shows yesterday. Actually, I found the thing while browsing through Twitter. Congressman Trey Gowdy was being interviewed about his surprising decision to leave politics and return to his former occupation as a prosecutor. Of course, the cynic in me always wonders whenever anyone decides to leave Washington, if the real reason is because A. They fear a pending defeat in the next election or B. They are being blackmailed by private scandal. Such is my low opinion of elected officials. 

In Congressman Gowdy’s case, I confess that I don’t know much about him except for his work on the House Benghazi investigation, and his odd hair style. He’s a Republican from the south so I can safely assume he is conservative. I don’t know where he stands with respect to the President. I qualify all of this because I don’t want anyone to say, Yeah but, he’s a            . So, here’s the quote that caught my ear:

...We live in a culture that values winning...but I don’t think that winning is the ultimate objective, the ultimate objective is to lead an honorable life.

No wonder he’s quitting politics!

The rest of this clip I will paraphrase. Mr. Gowdy began by giving several examples of great men from our past who lost...repeatedly, and a few who were actually killed for their unpopular, losing ways. Then he opines that process matters, and how we conduct ourselves in that process matters. With respect to our justice system he even offers the view that even a guilty person can and should go free if we violate that process. But then he compares the justice system to politics and politics comes out on the short end because in a political race it matters not whether an accusation he might make against his opponent is true, only that it works, and that it results in a win.

The late Al Davis, owner of the Oakland Raiders famously said, Just win, baby!  Vince Lombardi made famous the words, Winning isn’t everything...it’s the only thing. One of the most dreaded put downs in modern American life is the epithet, Loser. Ask any passionate sports fan and they will tell you that there is no such thing as a moral victory. I read some guy on Twitter after his team lost that losing is ...a grotesque irritant. I get it. I hate losing, always have. The question becomes, is winning so important that rules that make it harder to win should be cast aside? Some crew chief in NASCAR once made the observation that, If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying!

I cannot see into the heart of Congressman Gowdy to determine his true motivations. But...if his decision to retire from politics comes from his refusal any longer to participate in a process that elevates and rewards lawlessness and lying, then good for him. If, in his future work as a prosecutor he abides by the principle that process matters and that living an honorable life is the ultimate objective, then...double good for him. 

Widows, Orphans, and Strangers

Thirty-seven days in to reading the Bible in 90 days. Some days it’s been encouraging, other days...not so much. Some days what I read feels like wise instruction, other days like a stern rebuke. Some days I can’t even recognize the characters, they seem otherworldly and remote. But then I see someone who seems just like me, immediately familiar and identifiable. It’s very much a mixed bag.

There is one theme which has been consistently communicated from Genesis to Job. Actually, I’m sure there have been several such consistent themes, I’ve just been too obtuse to find them. But, at least I’ve caught on to one of them and that is this...God expects us to take care of the poor, provide for widows and orphans, and be kind to strangers. This message is literally all over the place, in practically every single book I’ve read so far. God takes a very dim view of people who ignore these powerless groups of people. The sins of pride and selfishness seem to be extremely high on the list of things that infuriate God Almighty.

So, we can have long, boring arguments on what care for the poor, widows and orphans should look like. We can debate the proper roll of governments in this endeavor. We can argue about whether or not the taxes we pay to fund the 21st century welfare state constitute obedience to this command, or serve to make the problems worse. Are there no poor houses?

But, setting aside the comparative virtue of Socialism vs Capitalism as the most effective poverty fighting tool, it seems to me that the one thing I am certain of is that...regardless of my political views, I find no escape from the personal responsibility I have as a child of God to care for the poor, widows and orphans, and to be kind to strangers. Period. There is no dispensation that I see from living in a country with a social safety net. Whatever collective actions governments may take in these areas, do not absolve me from my own responsibility. To whom much is given, much will be required seems the overriding theme.

When I examine my own record in this regard the results are mixed. I feel like I’ve always given generously to charities. The percentage of my income that winds up in the hands of my church and other philanthropic organizations far exceeds the national average. But, somehow I think that this is the wrong measuring device. For one thing, who ever wants to be merely average? For another, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can do more, I can be more generous, more helpful to the less fortunate...and so can you. Examining myself with regards to how I am treating the least of these has been, so far, my number one takeaway from this Bible reading exercise.

An American Tradition

I’m a baseball guy. But I’m also an American, which means that I am a full participant in its many cultural traditions. One of the most enduring of those traditions is the Super Bowl. So, there I was last night, in front of my television, taking it all in. A few observations...

My wife isn’t a sports fan. She does enjoy the Olympics but that’s only because of the heart warming biographical vignettes that the television producers come up with about the athletes. She’s also a huge fan of the Opening Ceremonies since they are essentially fashion shows. However, despite having zero interest in the contests, she does an amazing job of preparing the game time feasts. Last night, for example, she whipped this up:

   

That’s pigs-in-a-blanket, some sort of amazing Mexican guacamole dip, and my personal favorite, baked Parmesan Pepperoni Pizza crisps. 

Pink performed the national anthem and made a hash of it. Woman was a mess. I learned later that the poor thing had the flu, so hats off to her for making the effort.

Then, a group of Medal of Honor winners were brought out to midfield for the coin toss. Very cool, but seemed a thinly veiled attempt by the NFL to make up for all the kneeling. But, whatever.

Then, the game. Having no rooting interest makes for a dull experience. So, I just relaxed and tried to enjoy watching terrific athletes doing their thing on such an enormous stage. Nick Foles, the career backup, slugging it out against the G.O.A.T. The first half featured neither defense making a single play. On 4th and goal from the two yard line, with time running out, the Eagles ran a trick play for the ages for a touchdown. Coolest play and gutsiest call ever.

Then the halftime show. Here, I must be careful. My wife is constantly criticizing me for the fact that my musical tastes haven’t  evolved since my college days, in fact, she would argue that they have regressed. (She considers the fact that I remain devoted to the Beatles, and Frank Sinatra, a personal failing). Anyway, all week, the advertisements for the halftime show assured me that Justin Timberlake was a global superstar. As I watched him prancing around on the field I asked my much hipper wife whether he was a singer, a dancer, or a rapper...to which she answered, Yes. My review? He was energetic, enthusiastic, handsome...and I’m sure there was a song in there somewhere.

One of the great charms of the Super Bowl has always been the commercials. For some, they are more enjoyable than the game itself. In past years there have been some classics. I watched this year’s offerings in a state of befuddlement. Half the time I couldn’t figure out what they were trying to sell, the other half left me with the distinct impression that the American advertisement industry has run out of ideas. The best ones were the ones that told stories of the great courage of ordinary people in times of crisis, but then at the end when you would see, say, the Verizon logo, you would recoil and think, eww...when was the last time Verizon did anything heroic?? Until you guys can figure out how to show up for a service call on time, get off your moral high horse!

Back to the game. Everything was set up for yet another bedtime story for Tom Brady’s future grandkids. The Patriots get the ball with two minutes to play, down by six. Tom drives them down the field and throws the winning touchdown pass with no time left on the clock. Cue shot of Gisele crying tears of joy in her luxury box. But then a defensive player finally made a play, stripping Brady of the ball and sealing the upset victory for the Eagles. Good for them.

For me, the very best thing about the Super Bowl is the fact that it’s conclusion marks the official beginning of....baseball. Pitchers and catchers report for spring training in ten days!

An Astounding Number

Late yesterday afternoon, an announcement was made by the chairman of Apple. CEO Tim Cook gave the stunning news during a conference call while discussing the computer company’s fourth quarter/2017 results. While all the news wasn’t great for Apple, (there was some underachievement in certain areas), this one particular report staggered me. Are you ready for it? Ok...in the fourth quarter of last year, Apple raked in the largest profit for any company in the history of enterprise, a whopping 20 Billion Dollars.

Let that number sink in for a minute...

Trust me...you still can’t possibly comprehend such a number.

Put another way, during the 90 days of the fourth quarter of 2017, Apple earned $222,222,222....every single day. With each passing hour, a fresh 9 million dollars jingled into Apple’s vaults. 

I hear lots of people complaining about how large Apple’s cash stash is, 295 billion and growing. The people complaining the loudest always seem to be the kind of people who couldn’t sell hacksaws in a prison, people for whom large companies are the sworn enemies of all humankind...an opinion they will proclaim 24/7 to anyone who will listen...from their iPads!! Wherever there exists insanely profitable companies, there will also exist people who will complain about how those companies chose to spend their money. But seriously, if you were an enterprise that was churning up 222 million dollars every freaking day, you’d wind up with a huge cash stash too. Even if you wanted to reinvest all that money, it would take you a while to figure out...where and how! 

And to think that this money making juggernaut was started by a brooding genius with an idea that all the smart people were convinced was foolish. Computer pioneer, Ken Olson’s famously dismissive quote...There is no reason for anyone to have a computer in their home...was what once served as conventional wisdom. There is a huge life lesson lurking in that quote.

Here’s the deal...I’m not one of those guys who worships business. I’m fully aware of the corrupting influence of large sums of money and the reckless pursuit of same. I understand the tendency towards monopoly and the insidious cancer of crony capitalism. But I also know this, one of the things that differentiates people from one another is the question of attitude. This world is divided into two groups, those who create and those who criticize. There are doers and there are talkers. There are those who blaze trails and those who bitch about how rocky it is. There are people who either by force of will, great intellect, or superior vision launch world changing businesses and movements, and there are people who stand on the sidelines taking potshots, filled with the conceit that they could have done it better if only...

So whether you’re an Apple guy or a fan of Samsung, whether you use an iPad or a PC, take a minute today to marvel at the number 20 billion. Pause a minute this morning to consider how infinitely easier and more efficient your life has been made by the existence of this company and others like it. 

The Saga Continues...

It occurs to me that I have failed to inform all of you about the final outcome of the great hole in the wall saga. In past dispatches I have shown you the damage...

I’ve also shown you the first pathetic attempt at a remedy, courtesy of the alleged workers from the Helen Keller Drywall Repair Company...

After an interminable delay, a new attempt was made to fix the hole which was only marginally better, forcing Pam to try her hand at spackling. Unfortunately, the finished product wasn’t even close to being acceptable. My library wall looks like it’s in it’s first trimester...

So now we find ourselves in the unenviable position of having to report our displeasure to the powers that be. The reason this is so difficult is because the two workers responsible for such pathetic work happened to be two of the nicest guys you would ever want to meet. The piano mover responsible for the hole to begin with could not possibly have been any nicer or more contrite. His buddy, who he recruited to do the actual drywall repair was also kind and earnest almost to a fault. Making matters worse, each evening when they showed up to work, the piano mover would bring along his two year old son, who he had just picked up from daycare, one of the most adorable little boys ever. So, what we have here are two hard working guys doing the best they can, and being extraordinarily kind in the process. Oh, and they were both African-American. That shouldn’t have anything to do with this, but it does. Why? It’s complicated. 

Here’s the thing. I don’t go in for all this collective white guilt claptrap. I am not responsible for the evils of slavery any more than Mexicans are responsible for the human sacrifice of the Aztecs. Past generations have done some horrible things throughout history, but we evolve and move on, hopefully getting better with each generation. But I do feel an obligation as a white American to go the extra mile when it comes to doing business with African Americans. Some of you are probably rolling your eyes at this point out of either frustration at my misplaced paternalism or my willingness to tolerate shoddy work because of someone’s race. That’s fair. I’m confused by it myself. I guess at the end of the day, you don’t do anyone any favors by letting them get by with poor workmanship. On the other hand, I hate to be the one who lowers the boom. It would have helped if they were both jerks.

So, now a full two weeks after the piano accident, we still have no resolution. Our contractor will have to now intercede and redo the work, delaying further that happy day when we will be free of workers traipsing through our house.

My Case Against The SOTU Show

Yesterday, in the lead up to the State of the Union Show, my sister was saddened to read all of the ridicule of the thing on her Facebook wall. She responded by essentially telling all of those who claimed that they would not be watching that they should be ashamed of themselves. A fresh debate arose from that suggestion. 

First, I feel obliged to defend my sister’s position, even though I disagree with it, on the grounds that I know from where her sentiments come. My sister is a patriot. She loves her country and has always been enthralled with it’s pagentry and the many totems that fill our capital city. (She has never lost a love of the British monarchy either!) No matter who occupies the White House, she can be depended upon to be glued to her television set to watch the State of the Union speech. She feels it is her patriotic duty, and holds a dim view of those who boycott. Fair enough. But here’s where we part company...

George Washington started this spectacle of a yearly address to Congress when he showed up to give his first speech. But, leave it to another great Virginian, Thomas Jefferson, to put an end to this silly monarchical pretense. Instead, Jefferson, ever vigilant against anything that smacked of the imperial yoke that we had fought a war to throw off, opted to send his address in writing to be read aloud in the chamber. It was thus so for over a hundred years, despite a civil war and several financial panics, the yearly Presidential address was read to Congress. Then, Woodrow Wilson (sadly another Virginian) perhaps the president with the most authoritarian instincts ever, decided to bring back the pomp and ceremony of the live appearance of the President in the house chamber. It was in keeping with Wilson’s exalted view of the Presidency and his desire to lift that office above the two other branches in both influence and power. Thus saw the birth of the modern imperial presidency. 

Now, a hundred years in to this debacle, the American people get treated to the most partisan spectacle that a Republican form of government could possibly produce...the president striding into the house like a modern day king to the uproarious adulation of his partisans, the opposition party, their arms folded petulantly across their chests like school children, ridiculously tedious standing ovations for even the most pedestrian proclamations, stone-faced disgust from the opposition in cut away shots to even the most positive news. If the United States government were to intentionally hatch a plot to make itself appear impotent and unserious, it couldn’t possibly come up with a better plan than this televised embarrassment. 

I’m not against a televised address by the President in the House Chamber, but I think that they should be reserved for truly momentous occasions, like a declaration of war, or the announcement of the end of such wars. But, this annual festival of partisanship needs to stop. How about this? How about somebody run for President who promises to end The Speech, and go back to the Jeffersonian example of the yearly letter? Maybe if we weren’t reminded every stinking January of how childish and silly our political leaders are, perhaps we would start holding them in higher regard.