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July 4, 2000 |
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Happy Independence Day!
Yes, I know that many people will refer to this holiday as the
Fourth of July, but to me that always seemed a tad silly. It is a bit like
saying "Happy 25th of December!" That doesn't sound right, does it?
Oh, and happy birthday Allison! Truly
born on the fourth of July!
I would be getting up in the morning again. I tell you, mornings really don't agree with me. If you asked me to get up every morning for six months or get whacked over the head with a shovel, I would easily pick the shovel… ruling out serious injury, of course. Linda and Mary are morning people… and hungry morning people.
I had promised to make them my special omelette. It's a microwave omelette… really! And many people tell me that it is very good. I tried to put these things together this morning, but the one thing about microwaves is that their powers vary, so cooking times were considerably different on her microwave. We ended up doing scrambled eggs, and fruit.
Fortunately, one of the things that goes along with Independence Day, is baseball. Lots of baseball. By the time I was up and alert there was already a game on television. Baseball is such a blessing.
I had started my recipe for my cheesecake. Yes, I know it from memory. I'm not sure why some folks find that so amazing. That's actually the basis for one of the arguments that Len and I have, although our argument pertains to origami. He argues that having done it once, even through looking at the instructions qualifies as an accomplishment. My argument is that anyone can pick up the book and follow the instruction, the key is to remember the instructions. Similarly for recipes.
I do know the recipe for the cheesecake, as I know how to build a number of origami models from memory. Both Len and Pam have mentioned that I have an exceptional memory, although I personally don't see what is so extraordinary.
With the cheesecake timing is key and you can save substantial time if you multitask. For instance, you can mix the crust while you warm the cheese in the oven. Then, you can bake the crust while mixing the batter. It really doesn't take that long. The only problem is cooling the cake after it is finished. It needs some time to cool off. The cheesecake cracked, of course… because even baked dairy goods mock me.
We all talked about going to an outdoor concert in Myrtle Edwards Park. I decided not to go. I'm not that fond of seeing live music, and just being outside is not really a activity that is close to my heart. You know what is great about the outdoors? It's outside, where you can avoid it.
Mary decided to take a nap, which seemed a bit strange to me since she was the one who suggested going to the concert. Pam wanted to be a good hostess and thus wanted to pinpoint the location of the park. It wasn't enough to spot it in the map however, she wanted to give Linda and Mary exact directions, especially since she decided not to go to the concert either.
So she and I walked down to the park.
It was a fairly long walk, along Elliott Ave, which has some pretty heavy traffic. We didn't actually make it all the way to the park, but we got to within sight and we turned around and went back. It was shortly after we had returned when they decided to go to the concert.
Pam and I took a shower, and then started doing some other things around her apartment. She wanted some of the patio furniture cleaned off, so I moved them near the hose in the parking lot and hosed them off. Didn't get quite everything perfectly clean, but at least they were presentable. Still, we
I continued to watch baseball. Livan Hernandez had been pitching a no hitter through five innings, but alas, it got broken up. Such is life. Eventually the Braves' game came on. I miss watching Braves baseball. I used to set one of my VCR's to tape the games each day, but I know I won't have time to watch them anymore, so I don't bother. I don't get to watch the games anymore. I miss them. At least I would be able to watch the game today.
As it was approaching evening, I started making my scalloped potatoes. They involve peeling the potatoes and then slicing them. I normally slice the potatoes with a cleaver. It is one of the things that my mom got me when I first got an apartment in college. Other kids get condoms; I get a cleaver… I'm not sure what that says. Slicing potatoes with an otherwise standard knife seems a bit odd; I'm sure it is a better knife for this kind of cutting, but I've grown accustomed to my old friend. What kind I say? I continued with the recipe. This too is a microwave recipe, but this one is less sensitive to the differences in ovens. They potatoes turned out fine.
Meanwhile, Pam was preparing the crab that we got yesterday at the market. She was getting a little stressed. You know, most of us are not fun when we're stressed. Pam is no exception. We were approaching dinner time and we were still looking for nutcrackers and lobster forks. The one thing about Pam when she is stressed is that she becomes a little snappish, which is a bit tough to take. It's not my fault that she misplaced her flatware. Still, I wanted to help her out and did the best I could. She was still stressing about cooking the crab though, in that respect it was a testy afternoon. [Sigh!]
Linda and Mary returned shortly before dinner. By this time, most things were prepared and the table was set. Perfect timing.
To her credit, the meal was wonderful. It was prepared well and the layout and presentation were good. I didn't have the wine, of course. I'm not what you would call a vinophile …far from it. Wine is one of those things that, in my mind, is linked to snotty and pompous. Yes, and this was in the days before Frasier. I'm proud of the fact that I can't distinguish the quality between a $2 glass and a $20 glass of wine.
We only had three nutcrackers, and two of them didn't work as well as the third. Mary got the best of the three and Pam and Linda got the remaining two. I didn't really need one, since I got used to eating crabs with my hands. I can crack them with my fingers.
We continued talking about some of the folks that they all knew. They reminisced about some of their friends and their times in college, it was endearing in a way. I continued to listen attentively. I'm glad that Pam was happy to see her sister, but I don't like seeing her this stressed.
We waited for a while before getting to my cheesecake. It was warm, which is not the way the recipe instructs it to be served. I don't care how you manage to prefer it… it plainly says to serve chilled. It is an aberration. Just wanted to make my point. Still, they all seemed to like it and I got praises on my cheesecake. What can I say, people seem to like it.
I contemplated going home soon. It had been a long weekend one filled with such nonsense as getting up before noon. I was tired. I missed my cat. It was approaching darkness by this time, and Pam asked if I would stay to watch the fireworks. Her place overlooks Elliot Bay, which was bound to have a stunning view of the fireworks. I'm not an occasions type of guy. I don't really remember what I did on this or that holiday. I remember gestures… like Aileen sharing her lunch with me so I could save my lunch money to buy cards. This was twenty-two years ago.
I wanted Pam to have a nice holiday to remember so I stayed to watch the fireworks. I even took some pictures. I had setup my tripod from her balcony and took the pictures from there. I think they turned out okay, but naturally they didn't do justice to the actual fireworks. They never seem to.
Linda and Mary are morning people, so they were pretty tired. We said goodnight and goodbye since I was driving home soon and we would not be seeing each other in the morning. I would be seeing them on Saturday though.
As for getting home, one of the drawbacks of having a good location for watching the fireworks is that everyone wants to be there… including most of the Seattle area residents. The streets were in gridlock. It wasn't pretty. It's sad to watch Seattle folk flock to whatever is the "in-thing". Granted, this happens in any city, but it seems like Seattle folk are particularly desperate. Maybe it has something to do with the weather and needing to get out more. Whatever causes it, it is like watching lamb to the slaughter. I can't remember the last time I saw fireworks on Independence Day. The last time I do remember seeing fireworks is way back in about 1983 or 1984, it was the Atlanta Braves home openner in Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium.
Pam and I took a quick look outside and the traffic was bumper to bumper. Terrific. We went back inside for a while and watched some television. We wondered back out there at about 12:15am and it was still the same. I decided that I simply had to endure this traffic nightmare instead of waiting for it to dissipate. I kissed Pam goodnight and I drove off. I must've driven a whopping fifty feet before meeting this traffic. And so the traffic continued. It took me an hour just to get to the highway ramp, a trip which normally takes under ten minutes.
I observed the traffic in Seattle, there were a few intersections which were directed by the police. Ordinarily, I would wonder why they didn't simply re-time the traffic lights, but it soon became obvious. I'm not sure if this is strictly a Seattle affliction or if it is congested traffic in general. My conclusion is that people are either stupid, greedy, or both. Picture this:
- You're first in line at the traffic light.
- It is a green light.
- There's no room for you since the traffic past the intersection is congested.
- The light turns yellow.
It seems as though the correct answer for most of these folks is (A). People, I understand that it is late and you want to go home, however, if you continue to drive as though you don't have a pulse, it is going to make it a longer night for everyone. This is the reason why the police is directing traffic.
I did make it home eventually. It was nice to sleep in my own bed.
July 4, 2000