The Cafe is closed. Go feed on snark somewhere else.

Probably won't get to post again for a while. I'll be lakehousing for the holiday and then going under the knife as soon as I get back. When I return, look for new zombie research/melon destruction and big news on the house (as in, is it sliding off its foundation? Inspector says, "doubtful, but maybe.").

Oh good, Taylor won... any other news? OMG WTF?!

In case you don't know, Regions is my agency's largest client, so any shakeup can be a bit nerve-wracking. But hopefully this will only mean good things for us...hopefully.

No wonder I'm still alive

Currently featured over at MSNBC.com... my hometown of Huntsville seems to be a safe place to drive around.



Squeaking in at respectable ranks are also my former stomping grounds of Fort Wayne and my current home.



Don't know about you guys, but I'll sure sleep better at night now.

Murder, rape, familial hatred — Fun lessons from the Bible

I know I've previously vowed not to promote other blogs, and I've violated that guideline quite a few times in recent weeks, but still...this is good.

Over on Slate.com, writer David Plotz is "Blogging the Bible." It's a great read.

Bringing an ignorant but intelligent perspective to the Big Book, Plotz basically just recounts his observations on each chapter. He's irreverant, and I'm sure he's taking more than a few jabs from the Christian Right, but it's hard to argue against the points he makes.

Here's his take on the Genesis section where Jacob stages a con to steal his father's blessing from his dumber, stronger brother, Esau:

This story is enthralling and troubling for several reasons. First, I don't think I've ever read anything that's so grim on the relationship of brothers as this first half of Genesis. Cain and Abel, Ham, Shem, and Japheth, Isaac and Ishmael, Esau and Jacob, and soon Joseph and his brothers. The relationship of brothers is purely antagonistic: They battle for inheritance, for God's love, for their father's respect. They conspire against each other, narc on each other, murder each other. There's not a single act of love or kindness between brothers so far. Brothers are only enemies. Was nomadic life so difficult that only one son in any family could hope to prosper?

It's good to get in on reading this while he's still trudging through Genesis. It makes for a nice reading break once a day or so.

Maybe I'll be rebuilt stronger, better...

Yep, I've got a torn meniscus. And yep, I'm going to be going in for surgery a week from today. I'll have to miss work all next week, which means burning every ounce of sick time I'm going to accrue this year. Youch.

I found myself starting to get pretty angry this afternoon after coming back from the doctor. Partly it's because of the sick time burnout. Partly it was because it means having to hire movers to haul our stuff into the new house, and partly because it just seems silly that an injury that hurts so little requires such a dramatic step.

But just as I was getting in a tizzy, my family helped bring things into perspective. I'm insured (which is the difference between this costing $150 and this costing $12,000 or so), my company is being obscenely flexible with the sick time I haven't even earned yet, I live rent-free in a house where I can recouperate while multiple adults protect me from my dog, and I'm going through this process at what's likely the best time possible. Recovering in an empty new house that needs a lot of work would not have been fun.

In other good news, friend Emily just told me she will have three poems published in a journal out of Arizona State, so join me in congratulating her next time you see her/first time you meet here.

Aw yeah, I smoked that joint.

So I thought I was over-reacting by going to see an orthopedic surgeon today about my knee, which conked out while I was playing tennis yesterday. It hasn't hurt incredibly bad, but I've been pretty limpy.

Apparently, I reacted appropriately. The doc thinks I tore the meniscus cartilage, which acts as the protective buffer between your thigh and your shin bones. I'll be heading back in tonight for an MRI to confirm the diagnosis.

Here I must point out how my doctor phrased the prognosis:

"If you're lucky, it's a torn meniscus, and we can repair it surgically. You should recover in three weeks."

Yeah, you know it's a good conversation when a doctor describes the chance of surgery with "if you're lucky."

So what's the unlucky outcome? Early-onset arthritis! I have to admit, that puts surgery into perspective. One day of surgery and three weeks of recovery vs. 60 years or so of excruciating joint pain. Deal or no deal?

Oh well. I should just be glad I'm a few years past this being the common treatment:

The traditional method of surgery for a torn meniscus (cartilage) involves admission to a hospital for several days, one or more surgical incisions that may average several inches, several weeks on crutches, and up to several months to completely rehabilitate the knee. (Source)

These days, it's more common to go in with fiberoptics and such and just yoink out the torn bits. (Obviously, I have a mastery of medical terminology from my days in massage therapy training.)

Anyway, I have another appointment tomorrow to go over the MRI results and see if I need to be put down. Until then, I'll be comforted by the fact that it could be worse.

The things I don't do for my blog

What's that? You just bought a new house with steep hills and lots of stairs? How are you going to celebrate?

Oh, apparently I'm going to twist my knee until I can barely walk. How else can I appropriately supervise Karen while she brings in the furniture?

But as I wait to hear back on when a doctor can look at my knee (which I torqued playing tennis, but has been hurting for quite a while), I at least have something to keep me in high spirits.

I recently stumbled across a three-year-old nugget of Internet gold called "Steve, Don't Eat It!" It's one man's attempt to eat some of the worst things available at the grocery store. He starts with "Potted Meat Food Product" and works his way down...far down... from there.

I must say I especially enjoy the section on making (and then drinking) "prison wine." It includes such invaluable insight as:

This one's aroma was slightly more earthy. Do you know that smell of grass right after it's cut? That's nice. I was just making chit-chat, because this smelled like rotten eggs tucked into the anus of a dead cat.

I really don't understand what could have gone wrong! I used moldy bread and socks, EXACTLY LIKE THE RECIPE SAID!

It's vulgar, and I wouldn't recommend reading it while you eat, but it gets high marks for passing time at work.

Update: Yep, we're buying it!

We reached an offer price on the house I wrote about, so it's sounding like a done deal. We got a much better price than we originally expected to pay in Birmingham, so we're pretty happy.

More to come, I'm sure.

Breaking News: Griners make offer on house

Oh sure, you've got your usual caveats about how this may fall through, blah, blah, blah. But yeah, we're making an offer on this quirky, well-kept house in Birmingham's Crestwood neighborhood. That's across town from our family, unfortunately, but it's close to downtown, and rush-hour traffic is a breeze.

Let's get the photos out of the way so that you don't just scroll past any important info...






Nice, huh? A few reasons why we like this one:

1. Quiet, young-professional neighborhood.
2. Owners kept it in great shape, and there's relatively little big work that needs to be done.
3. Huuuuuge yard. Huge. Needs some fence repairs and overgrowth clearing, but it's awesome.
4. Sweet kitchen. Won't hold 20 cooks, but the setup is really nice and modern.
5. It's technically a 3 bedroom, though we'll probably knock out one of them.
6. There's a garage, tons of basement storage, and an ideal wine cellar waiting to happen.
7. Good price, especially for the space.

So now we're just going through the mortgage/negotiating/inspecting phases. Karen found out today we could close in mid-June, giving the owners time to clean it and do some repairs. (They've already moved out.)

I'll of course keep you all posted as this moves ahead/falls apart/etc. Wish us luck!

The Yellow Button

My finger hovers over The Yellow Button. Four other people sit around and behind me, waiting to see when I will push it. If I push it, everything comes to a stop. If I push it, one of the nation's leading voice talents — the voice of Children's Tylenol, the voice of Massengil — will cease in mid-sentence. She's in New York, but it doesn't matter. The Yellow Button cares nothing about distance.

Today, this is my job. The sound engineer, my agency's broadcast director, the client's account representative, and a rep from the client itself — they're all watching to see when I will stop the talent and tell her I want a do-over.

She gets three paragraphs into her read. The script is for an interactive piece, not a commercial, so it's pretty long. Am I waiting too long? Should I have stopped her after just a few sentences? Am I missing some flubs that only trained ears can hear?

On the fourth paragraph, I hit the button. "Joan," I say to the talent, "that last line sounded...weird." Will she be insulted? Will this de-rail her flow?

"Yeah, you're right," she says with a slight sigh. "And I accidentally said 'upon' instead of 'on.'" I quietly pretend I noticed that, too.

With that, the pressure's off, and I actually start having a great time listening to a quasi-celebrity read a script I wrote. I stop her off and on...sometimes the engineer presses his own yellow button because he notices a sound hiccup or garbled pronunciation. Our broadcast guy notices one or two reasons to stop.

After each of my suggestions, the talent nails it. She's good. There's only one case where we have to re-do a line twice. After a mere 45 minutes, we're done, and the sound files are burning to a CD. Everyone's happy with the session (although, in fairness, they all credit the talent).

Bidding The Yellow Button a fond farewell — for now — I head back to the office to be a writer again.

It's things like this that make me love this job. Yeah, I have to write cheesy tag lines a few times a day, or come up with another way to tell you that you need another credit card. But I also get to write radio ads for the beach, "talking points" for a national morning show, and the season brochure for our community theater.

Last Friday, I got the traditional meat muffin breakfast at the office, then got a pizza lunch during our creative staff meeting — where we spent at least an hour watching funny commercials and viral videos. That afternoon, I was handed a beer at my desk when we learned we'd won a national ADDY award.

Right now, I'm writing a campaign for a brewery ... just because my boss asked us to pick a business at random and make some cool stuff for them, free of charge. Of course, the designer and I had to sample the beer during our initial "concepting" session. The door was wide open, and people who stuck their head in just said, "Hey, cool. We're doing a beer?"

Just thought I'd drop a note to explain what I've been up to at work recently. We'll likely have big house-hunting news soon, too. Stay tuned.

Will you be ready?

Be sure to check out the newest Asterian side project, The Center for Zombie Research. We've started posting some valuable scientific findings to prepare the world for the next great epidemic.

Big props to Bill for spontaneously coming up with the idea for the site a few weeks back, when we honestly were already researching anti-zombie weaponry. We were really just trying to settle a longstanding bet about the best gun/blunt weapon to fight off the undead. Now it's gone from group wager to international aid project. I'm proud to be involved.

Or maybe we could just concentrate journalists into convenient camps!

Living in California, I saw that liberal zealots and conservative zealots were separated only by the party they wished to see in power. As a journalist, I was harangued by both on a regular basis, and I actually enjoyed their inability to even imagine that someone could be a moderate.

I generally stomach what I hear on right wing radio by recognizing that it's the same tack that liberals are taking, now that they know it works. I'm looking at you, Al Franken.

But today, when ABC reported that the White House is tracking the phone records of reporters to find the sources of leaks, I was flabbergasted by the "rebuttal" of some conservatives. It just seems that after all the flagellation Clinton took from the press, Republicans would recognize the value of investigative reporting being part of the check-and-balance system.

Apparently not.

Here are some comments from the ABC Web story. They're just about a brick's throw away from a Kristallnacht.

Posted by: Brad | May 15, 2006 11:13:00 AM

well maybe ABC news better stop leaking classified information. This only helps our enemies and right now I believe ABC news is an enemy of the US.

Posted by: scott | May 15, 2006 11:13:39 AM

You didn't inconvenience someone, you broke the law. It's called a criminal investigation!!!!

Posted by: robert johnson | May 15, 2006 11:17:13 AM

GOOD! I hope they find out who is reporting all of these leaks. And I hope you are tried and perhaps spend some time in jail for it.
KEEP CALLING and I hope they track your every word!

Posted by: voxpopgirl | May 15, 2006 11:26:09 AM

I am a journalism graduate, UNC-Chapel Hill. I am also a veteran.
I hope they catch every government leaker of classified secret information and put them in prison for life. And any reporter publishing known classified secret information should be shot. It is called treason, not first amendment rights.

Posted by: Tom Paine | May 15, 2006 12:50:44 PM

I think that this is very good news. Something has to be done to investigate the main-stream media as the MSM has obviously declared war against the President in regards to the war on terror and and the liberation of Iraq. It is outrageous how they are working to leak classified information and to undermine our security at every turn with their reporting. It is also outrageous how they fabricate stories against the President or in a timely fashion recycle old stories as if they were new. I personally no longer trust the MSM at all and feel extremely threatened by their agenda.

Posted by: Garry | May 15, 2006 12:51:49 PM

You commit treason and expose classified national securtiy information - the goverment is going to come after you - as they should.

I feel the bony finger of Skeletor

In a strange pop-culture coincidence, we recently finished watching a two-disc compilation of "He-Man" episodes, right around the time Slate magazine ran an essay on one man's reflections upon the same subject.

While I can't offer the same level of depth and insight on the show (I personally love when the writer laments, "The dialogue is tediously expository."), it did get me thinking about what forms of childhood entertainment hold up when you're an adult. I'm sure the answer is "not much."

Sidestepping cartoons for a moment, let's get high brow and ask whether the best pieces of childhood literature can be enjoyed 20 years later. I haven't found any. They're nostaglic, maybe, but not fulfilling. You really start to wonder how you stomached so much angst and overt emotion as a young adult. That said, I am itching to re-read "A Wrinkle in Time," which I hope to actually understand all these decades later.

Now back to cartoons. (Whew.)

Watching He-Man reminded me that cartoons rarely challenged the viewer. I understand now that they were trying sell toys, but I remember staring hypnotized at the screen each day and actually asking my dad to tape episodes I had to miss. But nothing ever really happened in an episode.

The big exception (to me) was Voltron, which had an ongoing plot that even included one of the main characters dying. Of course, it also had the world's most predictable episode structure: Bad guy appears, a Voltron team member tries fighting bad guy solo in a robotic lion, other lions join in, they're SHOCKED to learn that they cannot defeat bad guy with just lions, they turn into Voltron to fight bad guy and are SHOCKED to realize that they will have to form the blazing sword to cut him in half.

Hrm...maybe Voltron's not a good example. Howsabout Robotech, which was challenging to the point that I never understood what the hell was going on. Now that I'm old enough to watch the whole Robotech series on DVD and catch the intricate plot development, I'm not really interested in doing so.

The first cartoon I saw that really stepped up the intellectual stakes was the movie "Wizards," which obviously was meant for an older crowd. I say "obviously" because one of the female characters spends the whole movie topless. But man, that was a good flick.

I was reminded a lot of Wizards this weekend, when we watched "Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind." For one, it's a great movie, even better than Wizards (Nausicaa was made in 1984, Wizards in 1977). But what it really showed me is that there's no good excuse for cartoon movies to be engaging without being an intelligent experience for kids.

So what's your big huge favorite cartoon from childhood? Have you gone back and watched it? Did it hold up? What disturbing things did it teach you about your younger self?

Meanwhile, in a blog more exciting than mine...

I know, I know, I just stumped for my friend Brittany's blog a week or two ago, but I just want to make sure as many people as possible are reading great entries like this one from her recent jungle excursion:

The surrounding jungle has been sprayed with herbicides several times to halt the growing of the coca plants. It hasn´t worked so well, on a side tour, we spent a morning at a cocaine factory. The man who ran it wore a very nice hat and said he´d been in the business for the past 18 years. It is much more lucrative than growing other crops, he says, and besides, the police don´t like to walk into the hills so he isn´t afraid of getting caught.

In a fit of blog envy, I plan to spend an upcoming morning at a northside crackhouse.

Actually, my favorite part of Britt's most recent posting is this comment from her mom AFTER reading that her daughter spent a morning at a coke factory:

We are glad to hear from you - know how we worry!!!! Sounds like an amazing place to visit.

Love,
Mom

That, my friends, is a cool mom.

Shoot this, Johnny Depp.

So I've now made two attempts at the dish made famous by "Once Upon A Time In Mexico" (insert Salma Hayek joke here), and I have to say, it's a bit of a hit. I'm judging that partly on the fact that I've been really happy with it and partly on the fact that my sister wants to implement "Puerco Pibil Night" about three times a week.

So in case you haven't gotten this recipe from me (or if you haven't gotten to try it...poor bastard), here it is. Although the recipe is on the DVD, I got it from this great site, which includes reader comments on how they tweaked the recipe. I've attached some of my own suggestions at the bottom, but I would encourage you to at least try to standard recipe once before gooning around with it.

Puerco Pibil

5 pounds pork butt, cut into 2 inch cubes
5 tablespoons annato seeds
2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 tablespoon whole black pepper
1/2 teaspoon whole cloves
8 whole allspice berries
2 habanero Peppers, fresh or dried, cleaned and minced (optional)
1/2 cup orange juice
1/2 cup white vinegar
8 garlic cloves
2 tablespoons salt
5 lemons
1 shot of tequila
banana leaves (optional)

Grind the annato seeds, cumin seeds, whole peppercorns, whole cloves, and whole allspice in a mortar and pestle, spice grinder or coffe grinder. Blend the chopped habanero peppers with the orange juice, vinegar, garlic and salt.

Mix the dry spices with the liquid.

Add the juice of 5 lemons and a nice splash of tequila.

Place the cubed pork butt in a large zip lock bag and add the marinade. Soak 4-6 hours, in refrigerator, turning several times.

Line (8x13) baking pan with banana leaves. Pour in pork along with the marinade. Cover with Banana leaves and seal the pan with foil. Bake in a 325 F degree oven for 4 hours.

Griner's suggestions:

1. I replaced the lemons with limes and was very happy with the outcome.
2. I haven't yet tried the banana leaves (I just cooked it in casserole dishes), but I plan to use them someday.
3. Don't remove the habanero seeds. So far, no one's complained it's too spicy.
4. Let it marinate as long as possible. I've been letting it sit in the fridge three days or so.
5. Don't trim the pork butt when you cube it (except for the huge chunks of fat). The fat and connective tissue made the dish deliciously tender.
6. Use the biggest Boston butt/pork butt you can find. I did a 7-pounder last time, and there weren't leftovers. You have to remember there's a big, obnoxious shoulder blade bone in the middle of it.
7. Try serving it on flour tortillas instead of rice. That's been a crowd pleaser.

Good luck, and be sure to let me know how it turns out for you.

My life is a full frickin oyster

Because there just aren't enough beautiful things in my life, this weekend I discovered "dog bloat."

I assure you, it's as great as it sounds.

In case you don't know my dog, he's a slender chap with a runner's build and a diverse vocabulary of Star Wars noises. On Saturday, he returned from an unchapperoned sprint around my parents' neighborhood and looked a bit...puffy. In fact, he looked like he had swallowed a soccer ball.

At some point, I also saw him drinking 17 gallons or so of lake water, which I'm sure is awesome for him. There's a nuclear power plant a few hundred yards away from my parents' lakehouse, and I'm personally comforted that so many scientists are nearby to ensure the safety and flavor of the lake.

I spent most of that afternoon doing what any responsible pet owner would do: poking him and calling him names like "lardbucket."

But at some point, my wife decided that it might be worth looking up this little change in body type on the Internet. That's how she discovered bloat. And that's how I ended up driving to the emergency vet at midnight.

That's because she stumbled upon such calming advice as this:

If you know or even suspect your dog has bloat, immediately call your veterinarian or emergency service. Do not attempt home treatment.

Do take the time to call ahead.; while you are transporting the dog, the hospital staff can prepare for your arrival.

Pretty much every site reads like that. Apparently, dog bloat is equivalent in seriousness to a human's head exploding. No time for second guessing! Call out the medi-chopper!

So we drive Fat Jonas to the vet (who agreed that it was potentially life-threatening). There they inform us that, shockingly, Joe has gas. "I understand," I say. "Best to shoot him now then."

In all seriousness, this was an apparently lucky case of bloat. Large breeds of dogs can die within hours if their distended stomachs cause their internal organs to twist until the blood supply is cut off. So it's hard to blame Internet sites from sounding dire in their warnings that a bloated dog has the life expectancy of a Berkeley grad walking the streets of Cape Girardeau, Missouri.

It's just a matter of time, the vet warns us, before Jonas' internal Hindenburg takes its fatal toll. So now we have the options of having his organs stapled to the inside of his chest (I'm probably not using the technical name for that procedure) or feeding him slower with a special bowl that rises in the middle to keep him from inhaling the food. We took the most fiscally responsible approach and turned his current bowl upside-down. Voila.

Of course, we have reason to believe that this isn't an everyday problem. Jonas promptly threw up Sunday evening, and evidence seems to suggest he ate a pile or two of catfood while he was on his lakehouse excursion. So that might explain why his only other case of bloat (which he survived in another Festivus miracle) came shortly after he ate two loaves of banana nut bread.

It's times like this I just can't wait to have a kid.

Surely I wasn't the only one who thought this?

When you were a kid, did you ever think that you might be the only real person, and that everyone one else just existed to entertain/confuse/torment you?

I remember when I was little, I would try jump around corners unexpectedly so that I might catch the world not moving ... you know, because it didn't think I would be there yet. I don't know what I thought I'd catch...maybe people just standing perfectly still, waiting for my presence to cue them.

I think part of that carries over to adult life. Most people I know share the belief that if he/she/I stopped going to work (or wherever), that the entire operation would fall apart within a mere day. Three days, max.

Not sure why I've been thinking about this lately. Maybe it's because with this new job, I'm more of a cog than I was before. I think I still have one of the most interesting cog roles, but it's an anonymous effort that could just as easily be made by someone else. Maybe I miss having a byline, but I doubt it, since I didnt have one (except rarely) during my time as an editor.

Oh well. These are the random thoughts of someone who spent a weekend playing board games, watching zombie movies, drinking sangria, wakeboarding and spending an amazing few days with friends who I'm glad don't exist just in some Twilight Zone world where I'm at the center of everything.

Stroke of culinary genius

Trying to decide last night what the theme should be for our small monthly supper club, we came up with a great idea.

Someone mentioned going with fusion, and we decided to randomly draw country names and then create a dish that joined the two. The results were, of course, cuh-lassic.

Karen and I are responsible for a dessert that's Greek-Filipino. My sister's entree will be Ethioppean-Mexican. Other combos included Turkish-Japanese and Spanish-Indian.

Personally, I can't wait to see how this turns out. I'll post photos.

Feel free to make any recommendations on how we could pull this off.

I may have to be a double agent in this brewing conflict.

I recently wrote about the new Dunkin Donuts ad campaign, which I mentioned was part of a national effort to spread the chain beyond its Northeast roots. (I've also since learned that the Dunk has just about deserted Alabama in the 10 years since I last lived here...sniff.)

Anyway, at the time, I noticed that Slate's ad review said that Dunkin was positioning itself as the working man's Starbucks. Dunkin's drink sales have far exceeded donut sales, so its true competitior is now the Seattle Siren, not the Southeast Sugarmomma (Krispy Kreme).

Today, AdAge has an analysis of Starbucks and how it could face a surprisingly strong competition from (drumroll) Dunkin Donuts! It's an interesting read, especially if you share my obsession with coffee.

I don't have any strong opinions on this emerging rivalry, except to say that I stopped into a Dunkin Donuts while consulting in Kankakee a few months back, and it looked like the steam wand on the espresso machine hadn't been cleaned in days. I'm serious...days. Looked like it had been dipped in concrete. That's a mortal sin in the barista world. It's DAIRY, people. Of course, I failed to mention that this donut shop was in a gas station, but still...

In case the AdAge article requires a log-in (it's free) or the link becomes unavailable, here's an interesting bite from today's piece:

"What should the new owners of Dunkin' Donuts do with the brand? Well, I believe they do have credibility in coffee, but not the Starbucks stuff. They need their own coffee twist. They need to be the opposite of Starbucks. Strong No. 2 brands don't emulate the leaders, they become the opposite.

"Listerine was the bad-tasting mouthwash, so Scope became the good-tasting mouthwash. Home Depot was male and messy, so Lowe's became female and neat."

No seriously, what'd you really think?

Had my first-ever meeting with a client yesterday, when a designer and I pitched three mock-ups of an invitation that will go to a few thousand businesses.

I girded myself for some sort of combat, since I've been hearing that clients often shoot down everything you present them with. But I had gotten a head's up that this one was pretty bright and had a good sense of humor, and sure enough, she loved all three of our proposals. In fact, she hopes to use one of them for another project entirely.

Sorry again for the lack of specifics, but I'll post the final result once it's approved, printed, etc. Just wanted to pass along that, yes, apparently I am doing pretty well at this gig.

Didn't everybody?

Checked my e-mail the other day to find this disturbing insight into my apparently evil soul, courtesy of Netflix:

As someone who enjoyed 9/11, we thought you'd like to know United 93 opens Friday, April 28th in a theater near you.

Now, I assume they're talking about the documentary "9/11," which I did think was amazing. But still...