Remi/Judy over at LifeLessons insists that I repost this response I made on another site, a local chat board based on the shores of Lake Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico, where she makes her home. Here ’tis:
I’d never shared this before, but I do two things that I’ve never seen/read in making burgers at home.
First, growing up I learned that sometimes it helps to put dried bread crumbs in the mix to help hold in moisture, and sometimes to keep the leaner ground from falling apart while cooking. I’ve found that using stovetop stuffing mix works wonders instead. (I prefer Pepperidge Farm Herb Seasoned Chicken flavor myself.) It works well for me. Continue reading
On January 10, 1939, my dad turned 18 years old. Born and raised in a slightly patrician white business family in Arkansas, he came to the Missouri bootheel (that little hangy-down uvula-like part of the southeast corner of my state) two years earlier when his father (my grandfather – Big Dad) secured a deal to rent and farm a half section (320 acres) of rich Mississippi River ancient alluvial dirt, which Big Dad would plant fence-row to fence-row in cotton.
Dad had helped out on the plantations his dad worked on in Arkansas. He rode a horse he loved as he roved through the fields checking out the operation. I don’t know how the white workers addressed him, but the black workers called him “Mr. Doug”. He was only 14 or 15 years old. He told me that a few times in his later years, and it always seemed to me that it was a confession of sin, of regret, of guilt. But he never took it further. Yes, he grew up racist, as did my mom. (You know how little kids tend to put things in their mouths (“choking hazard”!) ? When I would pop a coin into my mouth, Mom would say “Take that out! A ~n-word~ might have touched that!”) Continue reading
I love when Beau gets justifiably riled up. His responses are so focused, fact intense. Just spot-on. (In an earlier video (below) he said “…no matter how much the right wants to squelch free speech, we have to defend it as much as we can….” Apparently that spawned LOTS of indignant comments from said right-wingnuts who felt his comment was, um, unjust. Hence this video in response:
HERE is his earlier video which sparked the one above.
I don’t know why, but I’ve been seeing a bunch of posts, tweets, articles recently lauding the so-called Golden Rule. No need to quote it here – y’all know it by heart. I buried my rebuttal to it in my “Pith” page here years ago, but very few of my very few readers seem to have unearthed it. So I’m giving it a post of its very own tonight. Here ’tis:
The implicit fallacy of The Golden Rule becomes painfully obvious when it is earnestly applied by an ardent masochist.
One of my most disappointing headlines ever!
On second thought, why would a pessimist even want to live longer?
“Forgiveness doesn’t come with a debt.” That line just resonates in me! It’s kinda buried in Mary Chapin Carpenter’s I Take My Chances, one of my favorite songs ever.
I struggle with the concept of forgiveness – on both sides. To forgive means to first judge and find guilty, and I think (I hope) I don’t often judge. But having found one guilty, I cannot easily forgive, nor can I seek or easily accept forgiveness. I’m a strange duck. Still, it’s a cool song that’s really not about forgiveness. (Or is it?) You can listen to either (or both) her studio version or her live stage performance of the song in the links below. Continue reading
This wonderful, wondrous speaker is Eddie Glaude, who I’d never heard of or from before.
I found this from AOC’s Twitter. Have I mentioned how much I admire her?