Bitter Apple

I don't know what prompted me today to do this, but Dillon, my male greyhound, has a hot spot on his skin that he keeps licking, and licking, and licking. I was always told that greyhounds tend to be fastidiously clean animals, along the lines of a cat. But when he kept licking this spot on his skin, it was just getting out of hand and was looking anything but clean.

I took him to the veterinarian. They checked him over, did 2 tests, all of which came up negative for different "issues." While relieved that he had nothing wrong with him (except what probably was a NASTY bug bite), and relieved that I wouldn't have to spend the next week in a hotel after potentially having to napalm the inside of my house for critters, I was not so relieved with the vet bill. Yes, it cost me $97. The vet gave me an antibiotic, told me to get some benadryl, and then go to the pet store to get some spray stuff called "Bitter Apple."

I have never used this "Bitter Apple" stuff. According to the label, it keeps animals from licking and making their wounds and sores infected, since the taste of it is something that they don't like. Once they start licking, they supposedly will immediately stop since they don't like the taste. Well, I wanted to know what I was getting into.

Before I tried it on Dillon today, I wanted to see what it would smell like. I thought that perhaps it would smell like apples, since it had "apple" in the name. The only things I could think of that it might smell like would be either a) Jolly Rancher apple flavored candy, or b) apple flavored Pucker liqueur. I was thinking that in order for my dog to learn not to lick his sore, it would have to at least smell enticing enough for him to want to lick it, thereby tasting whatever this elixir is. After all, I like the smell of artificial apple flavoring, and what creature on this earth wouldn't like the taste of booze.

Nope. It doesn't smell like apples. As a matter of fact, it doesn't smell like anything. It doesn't smell like chemicals, medicine, the dentist's office, lighter fluid, nothing. I was thinking to myself that I wasn't sure if this thing was going to work. So I decided to conduct my second experiment. I would see what it would feel like on my finger.

I sprayed a smidgen on my finger. I was thinking that it would feel like isopropyl alcohol, and would quickly evaporate. Nope. After all, the stuff's gotta stay on there, doesn't it? It can't just evaporate. It didn't even feel oily either, like some unguent from the middle ages used to cure scabies. It felt like, well.....water. How boring!

I'm thinking to myself at this point, this product is a CROCK!

I decided to conduct one more test. Yes........a taste test. I sprayed another shot of this concoction on my finger. At this point I was hesitant, and was thinking to myself that this is a stupid idea. What did I do, though? Yes, I touched my tongue to it. I can assure you, it didn't taste like apples. In fact, I would have to say that it was probably one of the worst tasting liquids I have ever come across in my life. I think that if you ever wanted an al-Qaida terrorist to spill the beans as to the whereabouts of Osama bin Ladin, all our troops would have to do is to spray "Bitter Apple" in their mouths to get them to talk. That shit's HORRIBLE! Not only did it taste like a chemist's experiment gone wrong, but it literally numbed the tip of my tongue. Whatever the taste buds are on the tip of your tongue that taste certain things (bitter, salty, sweet, etc.), I won't be enjoying that taste anytime soon.

After spraying Dillon today, let's just say that he hasn't even had the inkling to go down that slippery slope. What a smart boy!

His owner, on the other hand.....well, that might be a different story.

Jonathan and Darlene

As I was listening to NPR on Friday early evening, Terri Gross from "Fresh Air" was doing a piece on Jo Stafford, the legendary chanteuse from the 40's and 50's, who recently passed away this last week at 92. During the interview, Jo was asked about her alter-ego that she would perform under, named Darlene Edwards, with her partner Jonathan Edwards (Paul Weston-another remarkable pianist and musician).

I was entranced. Well, yes, Jo Stafford's voice is pleasant to listen to when she sings as Jo Stafford. But this Jonathan and Darlene Edwards schtick is sheer brilliance! I remember the movie, "Kentucky Fried Movie," (I know.....who the hell would bother but me), and at the end of the movie was a woman singing just a little off-key, a little out of rhythm, and with a whole lot of reckless bravura, the song "Carioca" from the 1930's. I can also recall that that was the first time I think I have ever stayed to watch the credits, as I was mesmorized by the sheer ghastliness of the singing (and piano accompanying). And I remember that I literally laughed out loud once the song finished.

Yes, my friends, that was Jonathan and Darlene Edwards in fine form.

Apparently a gag duo thing they used to do to entertain cocktail party guests, Jo and Paul created something remarkably fresh. I had to google it. In the process of googling Jonathan and Darlene Edwards, I came across a slew of sights, as well as links to music vendors. Needless to say, my wallet is now about $60 lighter.

I can hardly wait for my new music to come. After all, who wouldn't want to hear "April in Paris," "Take the 'A' Train," "Don't Get Around Much Anymore," and "Stayin' Alive" in true Jonathan and Darlene style. I mean, a singer and pianist who purposely make things sound bad by playing wrong notes, or by singing just a hair (or full head of hair) out of tune HAS to be a phenomenal musician. I strongly recommend checking out the following Myspace weblink:

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=241715879

This is Darlene and Jonathan at their sheer brutalist....

I love laughing...and this just about made me wet myself!

Enjoy!

Mongol

Last night I went and saw the movie, "Mongol," at the Sundance Movie Theater in Madison. Let me tell you, that movie theater is like none other that I have ever seen.

As you enter the lobby, off to the right is a ticket counter. Not only do the workers there dispense the tickets, but actually ask where you would like to sit. The seating chart flashes up on a flat screen monitor, and you have the ability to choose where you want to sit. Technology is really cool!

I would have liked to have had more time to perhaps get something to drink, or eat (as by the time we had gotten there, I had had no supper). But with the tremendously long line (and the fact that we were running late) prevented me from scoping out their wares. Once we were able to see what they had to offer after the show, you could have sandwiches, wine, sake, and other strange "non-popcorn and soda" type offerings. Yeah.....you'll never see one of these theaters in Janesville ANY time soon.

As I got into the theater, the seating was absolutely amazing. I'm not much of a fan of the movie theater, as I am not particularly fond of walking across a darkened floor, periodically feeling my flip-flips stick to some spillage by a liberal Madisonian. Nor am I a fan of stale butter scent from the popcorn.

This theater, however, was void of all such unpleasantries, and the seats were just shy of sitting in a posh barco-lounger. It was heaven!

Anyhow, the movie. I must say that this movie, "Mongol," was a visual masterpiece. The cinematography was stunning. I had no idea what Mongolia would ever look like, although I always pictured it to be barren, with lots of desert. Well, it was barren alright. But a beautiful barren, mind you. I have a lot more respect for the nomads of Mongolia. Anyone that can live off of yak milk, unidentified meat, be able to sleep in the middle of a blizzard in the barren tundra, and have no remorse for killing your brother, is a much hardier person than I will EVER claim to be. Let's face it: I hate camping, and am against slaying siblings, period.

Of course, this movie is about Genghis Khan and his rise to power from his boyhood to right before he united all of the Mongols. Those mongols, talk about a tough crowd. They make Stephen Segal look like Woody Allen. Ruthless, bloody, and damn clever, I would never want to run into an angry Mongol.

The whole movie was in Mongolian. It sounded nothing like Chinese, and was oddly a beautiful and strange language. I know some people may not care to read sub-titles to a movie, but I have never seen a more intense movie in recent memory. The tribulations and trials that Temugin (Genghis Khan) had to go through, no doubt made him the historical icon he now is. Much of the movie was very stark, and the costuming spectacular. I mean, I've never been much of a hat person, but I'd take one of those Mongolian fur hats ANYTIME. My melon would for sure be warm for the rest of my life.

Only once does Genghis Khan smile during the movie. I had to laugh (literally out loud) because ironically it came right after he just had sex with his wife after a long separation (who wouldn't smile?) Further making me laugh, was that right after he had sex with his wife, the scene changes, and converges on a very green meadow, and a beautiful blue sky ( I was waiting for Julie Andrews and Mother Abbess to come out and do a rousing rendition of "Climb Every Mountain"... but alas!), in stark contrast to the rest of the movie where it does nothing but storm, snow, rain, or have skies that are overcast, and fields that are a weathered brown. And it was the only time that you ever see a "green" ANYTHING in the movie. Perhaps his wife finally had a child of his (since she ended up having two others with two other men while she was still married-though not her fault, of course), and it symbolizes fertility. Who knows, it was just a very weird moment in the movie.

Anyhow, if any of you readers out there have a chance to see it, I highly recommend it. It's worth the 2 hours and 25 minutes of your time!

Pot Luck

This week, I was approached at work to endorse a pot luck in honor of one of my employees who is moving to another office. I was o.k. with the idea in concept. However, when I was asked, it was Thursday morning. Today is Friday, and the day the pot luck was planned. Furthermore, the person who suggested we do it, really isn't much of a cook, and I was somewhat forgiving of the fact that this person has no concept of how much time prepping and cooking things take if one's truly a cook. One day notice, for me, is like asking me to write a 3 hour opera in 15 minutes: it just ISN'T going to happen.

Now, aside from the assorted family reunions, backyard barbecues, and other outside festivities, we all know that these things take a bit of planning. I wasn't about to rack my brain last night trying to figure out what to bring. I have enough things going on without worrying about a culinary venture that most likely won't be appreciated as much as it should. For anyone that knows me, coming up with an idea for a pot luck item is no ordinary task, nor are any of the things I try to cook remotely simple to concoct. Most of them usually take about 3 days to prepare, utilize 18 culinary tricks to pull off, and net me a sink full of pots and pans.

Let's face it. at every pot luck, it seems someone ALWAYS brings the potato salad. Someone ALWAYS brings the deviled eggs. Someone ALWAYS brings coleslaw. Someone (who can't cook) always brings chips or buns, and someone ALWAYS brings the entree. Me? I'm the one that brings roasted eggplant ragout, marinated in a balsamic apricot reduction served with 12-spice hummus dip. Yes, I'm THAT guy.

I never said I was ordinary.

I opted to buy Olive Garden take out, which was quickly approved by the rest of my staff. Though, I did say that if anyone wanted to bring some snacky appetizer thingies, that would be fine too. Some did. And it worked well.

I also came to the realization, though, that you never invite someone committed to a Weight Watchers menu to the party. I'm a skeptic, especially if the person weighs 90 lbs soaking wet and is a size -4. We all know what they bring. It's always healthy. It's always 3.8 points (whatever that means), and it tastes healthy. Tasting healthy, to me, is not a taste I particularly care for. I suppose if I was more fond of things that taste like grass, twigs, flax seed, and tuna, I would probably be 170 pounds. But I am not, which is why I am how I am. So I opted for the reuben dip. After all it has corned beef (mmmm....fatty), cream cheese (mmm .....fatty), swiss cheese (mmm....fatty), 1000 Island dressing (mmmmm.....yummy), and sauerkraut (mmmmm.....stinky). That's MY kind of pot luck item. And it probably has enough points to feed an entire Ethiopian village until 2016.

The other thing that makes me pause to ponder, is that I always must know who made what was brought. I guess it's from previous experience at other functions which makes me skeptical and cautious. I have had some real DOOZIES before. Candied yams with sugar coated pecans and cheddar cheese was probably the scariest, not to mention the unidentifiable dishes that one of my aunts usually passed off as edible. Let's say she brought coconut banana creme pie. In my aunt's case, if she didn't have coconut, she would substitute tapioca. If she didn't have bananas, she would substitute peaches, and if she didn't have cream or eggs, she substituted chocolate instant pudding. Whatever the end result was, no starving emu at the Brooklyn Zoo would be peckish for it. Yes, I call them the "substitute" cooks.

All this considered, I guess no matter how much lead time I would have gotten, I probably would have opted for catering in. At least THAT way you know what you're getting into. That is, until you start thinking about the people who may be cooking it for you! Geesh I should be 60 pounds lighter!

Bicycle

Has anyone noticed lately that in Janesville, more and more bicycle lanes are springing up around the city. The most recently noticed one was when I was driving home from my brother's house after the fireworks, all up and down Wright Road.

I'm not much of a cyclist. In fact, most of my experiences with a bicycle have been catastrophic. My first 10 speed bike that I got (a red Ross) never operated the same after I crashed it into a parked car, tumbled over what we found out later was a brand new Cadillac, and landed on the curb, as I was riding it to the baseball park to watch my brother's game. In all, I had only had the bike about 5 hours.

The second major bike incident happened to be when I was out of college but visiting my fraternity brothers in Ripon. Having had too much to drink, a group of us decided we were hungry. We decided to road trip to the local Country Kitchen (rather, Bitchin' Kitchen) to get some food. After combing the freshmen dorms for "available" bicycles, we found our trusty steeds and proceeded on our way for an after hours snack.

I happened to pick the only bike with flat tires.

On our way there, one of my friends, Ray, decided he was Greg LeMond. Jumping off curbs, speeding ahead, cutting people off, he was having a great time. I, on the other hand, had all I could do to keep my balance, let alone keep the bike moving while riding on rims.

Clipping my front tire, Ray sped away. I was not so fortunate. I flipped over the handlebars and scraped my face on the asphalt. I was seeing triple. Everyone kept telling me I was fine. Being the smart one, I kept on going. After all, food was important. After I went into the bathroom at the restaurant, I realized that all of my friends lied to me.

I WAS HIDEOUS!

With a huge 3 inch wide layer of skin taken off the right side of my face, I looked like chopped liver. Never trust your friends' judgement when 1) they're drunk, 2) they're hungry, and 3) they want to continue having a good time and have no time for wet blankets.

It's been a while since the trauma I had back in the early 1990's. And it's been about the same amount of time since I've gotten on a bike. Whatever it was that caused me to have a weak moment and actually BUY another bicycle still puzzles me. But, it's pretty much a like-new Trek mountain bike with VERY low mileage that still hangs in my garage. It looks great there.

I don't know, if ever, I will try my luck again at riding a bike, let alone use the new bike lanes in town. I'm a bit paranoid. Everyone says that things happen in threes. The next misfortune would be number three. I don't know if I want to find out how things would play out. After all, they seem to have gotten progressively more violent.

Given that Janesvillains (villains being the operative part of the word) are not good about yielding and stopping, I don't want my biggest fear to be realized. Then again, the new bike lanes look nice and are sure enticing....

Hmm.....I'm tempted.

No-so-over the hill....yet

I am officially 39. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, but I don't feel differently. I'm hoping that it stays this way for a while yet. I don't have the mid-life crisis thing going on. I've learned that practical cars, practical shoes, and good booze are important. I still have all of my faculties, and I'm thankful that I still have friends and family whom I dearly love.

I love having this day come the day before a holiday. After all, it's one of the few times of the year that I can totally rip things up, and never have to go into work the next day. All I'm responsible for doing is getting up in time for the Milton parade at noon, and thank goodness, my dogs keep me honest with getting up in time. I enjoy the Milton parade around the 4th of July. It's a great place to people watch.

In fact I recall a time when I was sitting along the curb in the path of the parade, and how my nieces Sarah and Becca (Hannah was still too young to know how to fetch candy) were sitting along the curb catching candy. Along comes some clown (literally a clown), handing out candy to the kids. I recall that he advised them not to eat too much candy, as it might cause their teeth to fall out. In looking at this weathered soul, I think he literally had three teeth in total. Word to the wise!

Anyhow, I have more to reminisce about at 39, and had the startling enlightenment today that one of my employees could be my kid, given my age. Ah well.

Hopefully 39 is the new 25.

Happy birthday, USA!