Category: Personal

This has been a hectic month, and I need more time to finish some planned posts. So, I’ll fall back on that old crutch of using this blog as a limited journal of a few notable events.

Pizza

Erin and I participated in New Haven’s record-breaking pizza party. We were two of the proud 4,525 people who ate two (small) slices of pizza and drank eight ounces of water in the generous span of fifteen minutes. We then walked around and enjoyed the festival: I tried Sally’s for the first time, had a cannoli, drank some local beer, and received a promotional 10″ pizza box for the effort.

The Onion

I recently subscribed to the paper edition of The Onion. I still maintain my New Haven Register subscription, but considering recent events, supporting an independent comedy venture (that doubles surprisingly well as a base level of news literacy) is important. I’ve adored The Onion since early in high school and am happy to help keep it running.

Cooperstown

I visited Cooperstown this weekend to play baseball with a group of sandlot teams from Connecticut, New York, and New Hampshire. It was idyllic.

I also roamed around the National Baseball Hall of Fame. The exhibits were fantastic, full of details and displays and memorabilia. I was awed by the plaque gallery and enjoyed reading dozens of biographies spanning the last century.

We spent a long weekend in Toronto, and much like our trip to New Mexico, I’m not sure that I’m capable of fully sharing that experience in words. Unlike the trip to New Mexico, I’m going to give it a shot.

Stephen Hackett at 512 Pixels:

September is around the corner, and that means our campaign to raise money for St. Jude is back!

I’ve listened to Relay shows for years, and I’m always excited about and proud to nominally participate in their fundraising campaign for St. Jude each year. I’m one audience member who gives what he can, but I know every little bit makes a difference.

Whether you care about podcasts or this podcast network in particular, supporting the resesarch and medical care that St. Jude provides for pediatric cancer is important. I’m a regular donor to a few organizations but St. Jude is my largest recipient, partially because of what they do, and partially because it’s thrilling to be part of a community joining together to do amazing work. The Relay network isn’t huge, but its generous and wonderful community members make an outsized impact.

This is my small way of spreading the word.

I nearly made an omelet.¹This post is excerpted from a letter I wrote to a friend on a whim.

Omelets are simple and almost unattainable. I last made one two weeks ago while attempting scrambled eggs. Is there a metaphor in there?

I cut up two bacon strips, half a green bell pepper, and bits of onion from a baggie in the fridge. I did not wear goggles. I cooked the bacon first, then mixed in the veggies to sauté for a few minutes. This was all done in my trusty fifteen-dollar medium nonstick pan, which, naturally, was also where I wanted to cook the eggs. So, I transferred the filling into a separate pan on low heat, added a bit of oil to the main pan since much of the bacon grease had gone with the bacon, and poured in the eggs.

I’ve since identified three issues.

First, our current eggs are larger than we’ve had. I added my normal splash of milk before whisking the eggs but had a nagging thought that there was a smidge too much egg.

Second, I used the back-left burner for the eggs when I always use the front-left. The former is the second-largest burner on our gas range. I didn’t sufficiently adjust the heat. Instead of a uniformly pleasing eggy yellow one would expect in a diner or cafe of any price range, I had a slightly overcooked exterior with a vaguely gelatinous interior.

Even so, I tossed my mix-ins and a torn-up piece of white American cheese—an East coast delicacy with a strikingly dissimilar look to orange plastic—onto the left half and carefully folded the egg over.

It didn’t break. Hope sprang eternal.

I then agonized several seconds too long over transferring this newly-christened omelet to my plate. The eggs cooked. I didn’t use my spatula to ease it off the pan. The eggs cooked. I committed to a flip.

I’d appreciate it if you paused to gather a minuscule violin and a box of tissues.

Bits of egg stuck to the pan as the flip became a flop.

A rend in the top of this would-be omelet matched the newest scar on my heart as I failed to honor the memory of these two eggs. But I didn’t let my inadequacy ruin my enjoyment. It was omelet enough for me and I ate it as such. Paired with homemade bread and jam the meal was delightful.

Oh, the third issue: I was cooking before 6AM on five hours of sleep. The world isn’t ready for the breakfast I would make with a full night’s rest.

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  This post is excerpted from a letter I wrote to a friend on a whim.

Our recent trip to New Mexico was excellent for two reasons: it was a distinct kind of trip from what we’ve typically had over the last few years, and the landscape was unique and gorgeous. You can look back at the pictures to understand that second part—mountainous terrain scarred by terrible fires that continues to fight back paired with high-altitude meadows, all of which abut scrubby desert; amazing cultural artifacts dating back centuries that speak to both a proud indigenous history and an impactful, conflict-ridden European influence; plus a smattering of my hobbies like baseball and disc golf to round it out.

These wonderful elements established how we would spend our days, but we didn’t solely plan this trip to see a place we’d never visited. That will come in the future. This was a trip to spend time with two people.