Praying For The Possum

Tonight we hear country legend and Jumbled Encephalon favorite George Jones is in the hospital. Please say a prayer for George, crack open an ice cold Coke Zero (after all, we don't condone drinking the hard stuff), give "She Thinks I Still Care", "White Lightning", "The Race Is On", or "He Stopped Loving Her Today" a spin, and think about the Possum.

The Great Escape

As part of my job, I get to talk to vendors every day from across these great United States. Being a Hoosier boy, I get quite excited when I get to speak to someone in Indiana. However, I have noticed something odd: my enthusiasm is never reciprocated. In fact, when I mention that I am from Indiana, the response on the other end of the line is usually a snub. A chill nearly always descends upon our previously pleasant conversation, and I feel somewhat shut out.

I've been pondering this rather unfriendly phenomenon and wondering why I get the cold shoulder from my Hoosier brethren. Then one day it dawned on me.

They're jealous.

You see, almost twelve years ago, my lovely bride and I made the great escape from Indiana. I remember the night well; the images are seared into my memory. The bright lights, the razor wire, the German shepherds, the armed guards perched atop their Allis-Chalmers tractors... memories of that night still send a cold chill down my spine.

We had met up with some members of an underground resistance group (The Indiana People's Liberation Front, Vincennes chapter). I cannot divulge names or how we came to know them, because many of these good-hearted revolutionary farm workers are still wanted by Die Indiana Geheimie Polizei and certain 4-H authorities. However, through these folks, we learned of a secret tunnel under the Wabash River a few miles upstream from their headquarters. We emerged through a storm sewer grate in Palestine, Illinois, where a small band of Indiana Freedom Fighters awaited us. They gave us safe passage to suburban Chicago, where we had much assimilating and learning to do.

Many if not most of my friends and family from my generation made it out of Indiana alive. They have their own stories. Some were bit by angry hound dogs, others shot. Many were chased for miles by farm implements. Still more had to dodge basketballs thrown at them, as well as folding chairs (that would be the Bobby Knight chapter of HUFASI - Hoosiers United For A Stronger Indiana). Ours is a relatively tame story of escape in the search for a better life.

We do sneak back into Indiana for holidays a few times a year, using various tunnels and wooded areas under cover of darkness. We keep tabs on where the HUFASI are patrolling. And we always keep our ears open for the tell-tale tractor motors, trolling in search of escapees and ex-pats. We pray that someday the long Hoosier diaspora will end, and we all can return to our homeland to live free, productive lives.

Until then, our hearts will be saddened every time we hear a shot gun pop or basketball bounce in the night across a darkened cornfield. And we will remember our own escape, and be forever grateful to those valiant individuals who helped us across the border to freedom.

Arbitrary Cogitations and Random Ephermal Blatherings

Today is 28 March 2006. There are 279 days left in the year, so start making those New Years plans now!
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Today is the 27th anniversary of the near-meltdown at the Three Mile Island nuclear power plant.

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Also, 76 years ago today, Constantinople became Istanbul. Why did Constantinople get the works? That's nobody's business but the Turks!

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Happy 51st Birthday to Reba McEntire of McAlester, Oklahoma.

Also born on this day: Italian Renaissance painter Raphael (1483-1520) and Carmelite nun / spiritualist / writer St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582). To the best of our knowledge, neither of these people ever visited Oklahoma.
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Great saying: "If you don't like burritos, don't work in a burrito shop!" (Anonymous, overheard in a record shop some weeks ago).
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Fact (or possible urban legend): thanks to a never-repealed World War I era law, it is illegal to say "geshundheit" to someone when they sneeze. However, if you work at a certain mega-retailer in the USA, you can be fired for saying "Bless you" to someone who sneezes. Maybe we should try "Dude, don't blow your boogs on me!"
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This Is Morning???

It's 3:55 A.M.

Very A.M.

I've been up for a while now. Was I having trouble sleeping? No,no... I was sleeping. In fact, I was doing a darn fine job of sleeping. If sleeping were an Olympic event, I could make the US team and probably bring home the Bronze.

No, the ability to sleep isn't my problem. However, back when sleeping was a problem for me, I made an interesting discovery. Creatively, I am in the zone between 3:00 and 5:00 A.M. - long before my wife, my co-workers, my family and friends, the sun... before practically everybody in our time zone is up (except our cats, who have apparently signed some sort of creed to not sleep while I'm asleep, and to try to convince me not to sleep either).

So here I am, blearily sipping my morning juice and typing away.

Why would a man do this to himself? I have it in me to write, and if the middle of the night (and, yes, if it is morning and the sun has not even begun to shine that first ray of light upon us, it is the middle of the night) is my time to rise and shine and create, then that is what I need to do.

I am a man with a mission - several missions, in fact. I have writing practice to do. I have a series of teachings on the apostle Peter to prepare. And I have Jeanne & Georgia's eggs to make famous (tee hee hee).

OK, Saint Peter... time to study.

The Train

Have you ever heard a song, and it just sticks in your head and absolutely, steadfastly refuses to leave?

Enter "The Train" by Tahiti 80.

Who are Tahiti 80? I have no idea. I just happened upon their song "The Train" (taken from their 2002 album Wallpaper for the Soul) on an Uncut magazine sampler I had laying around. Now the song is stuck in my head!

And its little wonder its sticking so well. Its a three-minute slice of sugary sweet pop that sticks to your ears like a nougat-and-caramel chocolate bar does to your teeth! While sounding modern, it sounds very much like something I heard back in 1976.

If you're curious, check out their website: http://www.tahiti80.com/. And dig the panda on their main page!

Jeanne & Georgia's Eggs - A Follow-Up

Just a quick followup...

After mentioning Jeanne & Georgia's eggs in the last blog post ("If Only Jeanne Raised Goats...", 22 March 2006), we have been promised farm-fresh bacon when the Dynamic Egg Duo diverge and begin raising hogs (hopefully this summer!)

So... we at Jumbled Encephalon Noodle Salad are now dedicated to making Jeanne & Georgia's Eggs famous. In fact, we want them to be the most famous poultry cackleberries in America - the world - THE UNIVERSE!!!

This is where you come in. We need to come up with a snazzy catch-phrase for these oval embryonic delicacies! (I kid you not, these eggs are, well... eggstravigant! Eggstraordinary!! Eggceptional!!!) If we have any graphic artists out there, a logo would be nice.

So far, all I have is: JEANNE & GEORGIA'S FARM-FRESH EGGS - WORLD'S FINEST EGGS SINCE 1682.

Submit your idears to us at ccwriterhoosier@yahoo.com

Thanks much!!!

If Only Jeanne Raised Goats...

The fixings for one darn fine omelette!

Two farm fresh eggs... Mmmmm! We get ours from our friend Jeanne, who raises chickens. There is just something about the taste of fresh-from-under-the-hen eggs... I think it must be the fresh air. Or the lack of genetically altered / chemically enhanced in the chickens.

A few dollops of green Tabasco. (Don't be shy - green Tabasco won't bite ya like some hot sauces do.)

Fresh ground pepper.

Real creamery butter. (Margarine will do, but if you have the real thing, it just makes the eggs taste that much fresher!)

And...



Yes, goat cheese. If you've never tasted le fromage du lait de la chèvre, you are missing out! It tastes like the creamiest, mellowest Feta cheese you've ever eaten. Mmmmm mmm mmmmmmm!!!

Mix it all together, fry it up as an omelette, serve it on toast with some thin sliced ham.

Yum!!

Radio Free Jumbled Encephalon Noodle Salad

Yes! It's true!! You can listen to Radio Free Jumbled Encephalon Noodle Salad!

Actually, it is a Yahoo! Launchcast "Radio Station". You can tune it in (so to speak) at: Radio Free Jumbled Encephalon Noodle Salad

One caveat: While I get to choose songs, albums and artists I like (and dislike), I do not hand select the music that gets played. There may be songs played that are of questionable taste and / or quality. Please, if you hear something offensive... do not blame me!!!

Enjoy!!

Le fromage du club de semaine

We recently received a question from a reader of The Jumbled Encephalon Noodle Salad blog:

Q.: "What is 'homme qui apprécie le fromage'?"

A.: That is French for "man who appreciates cheese."

Which segues nicely into the next quasi-educational foray of the Jumbled Encephalon Education Service: The Jumbled Encephalon Société D'Appréciation De Fromage (or Cheese Appreciation Society). Or, the Cheese-of-the-Week Club. Each week, we'll learn about a different cheese. All sorts of cheese: hard, soft cheese, ripe cheese, raw milk cheese, goat cheese, cow cheese, une grande variété de fromage .

And, to get things started, let's go to Tibet and look at - you guessed it - Tibet cheese. According to the folks at cheese.com this semi-hard cheese is made from yak's milk. It is basically sun (or wind) dried yak's milk whey. And, as the people at the Tibetan Cheese Project will tell you, its the wildflowers the yaks munch on (along with the high plateau the cheese is dried on) that makes this cheese so tasty.

I've never tasted this cheese, but I'm guessing it is nothing like Velveeta. Not that there's anything wrong with Velveeta - it makes fine grilled cheese sandwiches.

So Long, Buster! (or Goodbye to a Very Silly Scotsman)

If you have ever sat through The Beatles eccentric (egocentric?) 1967 TV film Magical Mystery Tour, then you probably remember Glasgow-born poet / schoolteacher / actor / writer / surrealist Ivor Cutler. (You can see his picture in the booklet included with The Beatles' US album / UK double EP soundtrack from the film.) Cutler played the very stiff Buster Bloodvessel, the love interest of Ringo's heavy-set Aunt Jessie (and dinner companion / napkin supplier in her dream where John Lennon serves her spaghetti by the shovel-full - literally!)

Sadly, Ivor Cutler died last week at age 83. He did not retire from the stage until last year. Amazing!

If you're sense of humor leans toward the absurd, you may appreciate Ivor Cutler's humor. (Conversely, if you consider Monty Python a little too "absurd", Mr. Cutler may be a bit much for ya.) The harmonium-wielding Scotsman recorded poems and songs with titles like "The Muscular Tree", "If All The Cornflakes", "Get Away From the Wall", "When I Stand on an Open Cart", "There's a Turtle in my Soup", "Bicarbonate of Chicken", "Man with the Trembly Nose", "Tomato Brain", "I Think Very Deeply", "A Seal is a Sheep", "Unhypocritical Love Song", "Why Is Your Coat So Thick, Joe?", "I Believe in Bugs", "A Lady Found An Insect (aka Buffet)", "I Like Sitting", "Oh, Quartz", and "Your Smell".

Tonight, in Mr. Cutler's honor, I will pop in my old videotape of Magical Mystery Tour and smile.

To close, let me share a poem by Ivor Cutler, entitled "No, I Won't":
I'll leave you with this thought.
No, I won't. It would not be fair.

The Beginning of a Brave New Adventure...

Feeling nervous is natural in these situations. I mean, I've been to Canada three times (always Ontario), but... China! That's a whole new gig.

And I thought New Mexico was a long way from home!

Acclimating myself to the food over there isn't what unnerves me. I'll be praying a lot and eating plain yogurt by the quart to get that good bacteria built up in my digestive tract (thanks for the tip, Steve & Julia!) Adopting a baby doesn't worry half as much as if my beautiful wife were pregnant (I'd be a nine-month basket case worrying about her every time she snored wrong!) Heck, even the flight - all 18 hours one way - doesn't cause me any trouble sleeping (yet).

No, what I'm dreading is this: going two solid weeks without my laptop. I shudder to think about it. What will I do! I... I'll have to write things out long-hand. Long-hand! With an ink pen. AN INK PEN! And Solitaire... I'll have to use real playing cards! HOW CAN I CHEAT WITH REAL PLAYING CARDS??

And tunes... oh, my tunes!! I'll have to buy an iPod. And not one of those dinky little ones either. Do they make any the size of, say, a brick? How about a loaf of bread? Or even a bread box? I need something that will hold A LOT of music.

Wait... what about e-mail? Oh, no!! I WON'T BE ABLE TO CHECK MY E-MAIL!! Oh for the love of Mike! What will I do? I won't have access to all those offers for college degrees, software, marital aids, and the millions... no billions... no gadzillions of dollars from overseas widows whose husbands were carrying cladestine cash for some underground government entity in need of a checking account in which to hide said money. And all those online pharmacies selling pills pills pills pills pills! Red pills, green pills, blue pills, purple pills. Pills for acne. Pills for weight loss. Pills for headaches. Pills for backaches. Pills for aches we won't go into right now. Pills to pay off your credit cards. Pills to lower your mortgage. Pills to give me deep insight into the future. Oh! And all those important account updates from financial institutions I never even knew I had an account at! And all those nice strangers who just e-mail to say "Hi!" or "Are you ignoring me?" or "Please to repsond urgurently" or "Ferguson fizzled a lime scissor cream" (whatever that means).

Wait... wait... calm... deep breaths. Just like Dr. Rosenblum said, deep breaths... it will be okay. I can live without my laptops for two weeks. Breathe in... breathe out... I'll be alright. I'll be fine. I'll just have to buy a PDA, like a Palm Pilot or Blackberry or something. Yeah! That's it! And an iPod!! A BIG iPod - one so big that its considered a piece of carry-on luggage. There we go!

Whew! I feel better now. Now, about being cooped up in an airplane for 18 hours...

New Obsession

A year ago, it was Diet Rite. And while I still have a soft spot in my heart for the diet cola in the shiny blue can, I have become addicted to this little artificially sweet drink:



To the tune of a twelve-pack or two a week. Now, instead of burping, I just open my mouth and the familiar "psssssssssst!" sound of a pop can opening comes out.

10 Reasons to Love Indiana

I miss Indiana. I've been gone for more than a quarter of my life now, but I still miss it. Today is a bit of a homesick day, so I want to come up with ten reasons to love Indiana.

Here they are:

#10: There are A LOT of famous Hoosiers (some by birth, some by residence) - John Mellencamp, Kurt Vonnegut, David Letterman, Scatman Crothers, Crystal Gayle, Ernie Pyle, Woody Harrelson, Eugene Debs, James Dean, astronauts Gus Grissom & Frank Borman, John Dillinger, Jimmy Hoffa (who is from my hometown), Colonel Sanders (yes, he's from Indiana, not Kentucky), Bill Blass, Twyla Tharp, Johnny Appleseed, Karl Malden (remember The Streets of San Fransisco?), Bill Monroe, Knute Rockne, Greg Kinnear, Jane Pauley, Sydney Pollack, James Whitcomb Riley, Jean Shepard, Jeff Gordon (yes, #24 is a Hoosier), Techumseh, Tony Stewart, Larry Bird, Mark Spitz, Florence Henderson (yes, Mom Brady), Alex Karras, Joshua Bell, Cole Porter, Carole Lombard, Bill & Gloria Gaither, Fred Williamson, Orville & Wilbur Wright, Vivica Fox, Richard Nixon's mother (Hannah), Shelley Long, Forrest Tucker, Steve McQueen, Will Geer, Brendan Fraser, Orville Redenbacher, Eddie Rickenbacher, George Rogers Clark, Red Skelton, Dick York (one of the Darrens on Bewitched), Phil Harris, Gene Stratton Porter, William Henry Harrison (9th and briefest President of the United States), Benjamin Harrison (the 23rd President of the United States), Ken Kercheval (Cliff Barnes on Dallas), Oscar Robertson, Axl Rose, David Lee Roth, Freddie Hubbard, Clement & John Studebaker, Chad Everett, Dan Quayle, Eli Lilly, Wes Montgomery, Don Mattingly, novelist Theodore Dreiser, Paul Dresser, Steve Wariner, Sandi Patty, Noble Sissle, Ron Glass, Wendell Willkie, Jim Davis (creator of Garfield the Cat), Hoagy Carmichael, Booth Tarkington, Avery Brooks (Captain Benjamin Sisko on "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine"), Richard Gatling (inventor of the rapid-fire machine gun), Henry Lee Summer, The Reverend Jim Jones and all of the Jacksons (even Michael). Not from Indiana: Bobby Knight (born in Ohio; came to Indiana to develop coaching and chair tossing skills).

#9: Brown County. If I could choose to live anywhere, anyway, I would live outside Nashville - ministering, writing and drawing.

#8:

Biscuits and Gravy from the R&R Diner, Dana IN

#7: Clabber Girl Baking Powder (from Terre Haute).

Try baking without it.

#6: If you absolutely, positively have to get to a big city, and Indianapolis just won't do, you can drive to Chicago, St. Louis, Louisville, Cincinnatti, Detroit, Toledo, Nashville, Cleveland, Columbus, or Lexington with relative ease.

#5: What other state has an Oolitic, French Lick, Santa Claus and two Bonos?

#4: Turkey Run State Park

#3: Indiana is the home of the limestone that built the Empire State Building, the Pentagon, Rockefeller Center and several federal buildings and state capitol buildings. It is also the home of Raggedy Ann dolls, Garfield the cartoon cat, the first professional baseball game, Van Camp's Pork & Beans, Studebakers, Duesenbergs, Auburns, Ball canning jars, The Saturday Evening Post, the gasoline pump, auto racing, Abraham Lincoln (as a child), the first train robbery, and the first diesel tractor. And, by the way, Frank Sinatra made his professional debut at the Lyric Theatre in Indianapolis.

#2: Only 2.1% of all Americans are Indiana residents - a rare breed indeed (based on 2004 census statistics).

#1: My peeps back home! (Of course, back in Indiana, I wouldn't call them "peeps". I'd call them loved ones.)

New Mexico Post #3

Indian ruins at Mesa Verde in southwest Colorado

The photos do not do these sites justice. Hundreds of years ago, Native Americans built these dwellings into the sides of the high mesas. They were protected from the elements and their enemies here. Truly amazing... truly amazing.

I'm Convinced

I was writing a new post for the blog. It was a funny piece about a magazine dedicated to lovers of beans, called TOOTS. I read it to my beautiful wife. She wrinkled her pretty little nose and said, "It's gross. Our nephews (age 11) would like it."

I can't believe I came so close to resorting to fart humor. I gotta give up the bean jokes.

This Week's 80's Music Moment

It sits in an awkward position. David Bowie had just come off his three-year, Berlin-located, Eno-produced Low / "Heroes" / Lodger trilogy. He was ready to exit RCA for EMI. Let's Dance and American pop superstardom were just an album away. And here comes this screaming inbetweenie album, Scary Monsters.

Scary Monsters is an odd album. It sounds like so much Bowie had recently recorded, and yet sounds so unique. Tony Visconti is back to co-produce (he had produced on Bowie's first two albums a decade - seemingly a life time - before). Frippertronic guitars swirl throughout. Who guitarist Pete Townshend even makes an appearance.

The highlights almost all come on side one of the original LP (the first five tracks). The song "Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)" could well be the most aurally satisfying recording Bowie ever made. The cover of Tom Verlaine's "Scream Like A Baby" is the standout track of side two.

One gets the feeling, in retrospect, that Bowie was intentionally closing a chapter in his musical career. The song "Ashes-To-Ashes" (which, along with "Fashion", the fine "Up The Hill Backwards" and the title track were all UK hit singles) harkens back to Bowie's first hit, "Space Oddity", showing us Major Tom was less an astronaut, more a druggy - the guy mother warned you to avoid. "It's No Game" opens and closes the album with feelings of a cold splash of reality for an artist who had always cloaked himself in characters (Major Tom, Ziggy Stardust, The Thin White Duke).

If you can, grab the 1992 Rykodisc reissue. The stripped-down versions of "Space Oddity" (appropriately the UK flip side of "Ashes-To-Ashes") and "Panic in Detroit" are worthy bonus tracks (although the other two bonuses, "Crystal Japan" and a cover of Brecht's "Alabama Song" aren't nearly as good).

All told, the highlights outweigh the lows. Even if only four or five of the album's songs tickle your ears, this CD is well worth buying.

Announcement

Tonight's meeting of the Apathetic Americans Society has been cancelled due to lack of interest.