Thursday, April 20, 2017

TEX COBB

Lubbock Texas boxer Tex Cobb took a horrible beating for 15 rounds against Larry Holmes in 1982. It was one of the most lopsided matches in boxing history.

A reporter asked Tex if he had talked any trash to Holmes during the 15 rounder.
"No, every time I tried, he stuck his left in my mouth"
Another asked how he thought he'd done
"I was wearing him down, if it had gone 20, I could take him"
Another asked about a rematch and Cobb says "I don't think his hands can take that kind of abuse."

The fight was so lopsided, and the beating so brutal that Howard Cosell quit announcing boxing ten days later.
Cobb was typically laconic. "I have done my sport a great service"

Asked if Holmes hit as hard as Shavers, he says "No, Larry don't hit as hard as Ernie Shavers. No-one hits as hard as Shavers. If there was a fighter that hit harder than Shavers, I shoot him!"


Another asked if he would want a rematch...
"Yeah, but this time I want to fight Holmes in a phone booth"

And on a possible bout with Jerry Clooney:
"Sure, I'd love to fight him. But I have my price, twenty-five cents and a loose woman."

Ya gotta love Tex Cobb.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

THAT BASTARD

I only had one teacher ever lay a hand on me. It was Mr Gittins in the 1st grade. I lived in Detroit, it was November and the water that pooled in the cement sandboxes we had at school had frozen over. I was out there with my buddies banging my heel into the ice, and the water underneath was splashing all the way up to my knees. It was probably about 32 degrees being November and all, and I was just about sopping wet and having the time of my life when suddenly a hand grabbed me by the nape of my neck and pulled me out.

Mt. Gittins carried me like a kitten, legs kicking to the office.
They had my mother bring some dry clothes.
That Bastard.

Saturday, April 15, 2017

A BULLETHOLES DREAM

Back in the 50's, when Eisenhauer was president, we were doing a lot of research in the Arctic.
For the first time, an eskimo was going to come to Washington and visit the White House.
So he comes, and sets up an Igloo right there on the White House lawn and that night attends a fancy state dinner with President Eisenhauer.
After dinner, the president walks him back to the igloo On the way they talk about Arctic exploration, Baby Harp seals, the Russians and some of the issues of the indigenous peoples of the Arctic.
They make it back to the igloo, there on the White House lawn and the president asks the eskimo
"So whats it like in that Igloo?"
And the eskimo says "Its fucking cold"

In a dream someone told me this joke. I woke up, and shifted dreams. In my new dream I was telling the joke to  to Denny Crane and James Spader. When I got to the punchline I was laughing so hard I couldn't say it. I couldn't get it out.
"And the eskimo says......ahhahahehee... The eskimo says hahahahahehehe...he says its f-f-f-f hahahaha.......says its.....hahaha..... the eskimo says "Its fucking cold".

Crane and Spader just look at me like I'm an idiot, clink their martini glasses together.
Spader says "Well, I'm satisfied" and Crane says "Lock and load"
Then I woke up.
Where did I hear this eskimo joke? Or did I really just dream it?


Friday, April 14, 2017

FOLLOW YOUR DREAM

Sometimes people ask me if I watch any of the Chef shows.
"No, I cant stand them. But I watch Jacques Pepin."
Coming in May, a PBS American Masters on the great chef, and this, from a lovely interview with him.
"If you’ve never cooked and you start learning about it, you start feeling good about yourself. And suddenly cooking is not such an incredible job to do. You say, “Fine, I’ll pick up a couple of things.” I did a short piece for WNET about pears. The idea is that paradox: that when I do a recipe, I have a great freedom. But when I type the recipe and give it to someone, it’s totally strict and organized. It’s exactly the opposite of the freedom I had when I started the recipe.
When people do one of my recipes, you should always follow it exactly the first time you do it, and if it comes out good and you like it, you can do it again. The second time, maybe you take a fast look. The third time you don’t look at it. By the fourth time, you can probably improve the recipe—you think, “I’m going to put more tomato, and less of that.” And a year later, you don’t even know where it comes from—it has become your recipe. You massage it enough so that it fits your sense of aesthetic. If someone does that with my recipe, that is fine. They’ve taken it, they’ve done something. So that’s good."

As he teaches you a recipe, there is often a recurring line as he shows you how to do something, or how much of this or that to throw in the pot, or what a substitute might be.
"You don't have to worry too much" Chef Pepin says.
And in the article he talks about "massaging" a recipe, and making it your own.
Occasionally I'll teach someone a recipe.
I translate this idea of not worrying, and massaging recipes to "Follow Your Dream"
Can we add more garlic, more apples, or leave out the onion?
"Certainement! Just follow your dream!"

Thursday, April 13, 2017

SEARCHIN' FOR MY LOST SHAKER OF SALT

A few years back I was going to the church I grew up in. Like some kind of homecoming., right? There wasn’t anyone left hardly that I knew from when I went there as a boy.
Anyway, I got involved in the Singles group. There were ten women…and me.
They knew I wasn't much of a believer, but were thrilled to have me around. Sometimes I’d stay for the worship service. That delighted them.
Then one day they asked if I wanted to go to Miguelitos after.  I said yes.
I got there before them, and ordered two plates of nachos.
They came in, sat down and started to tell me about the Singles Group at Gateway.
“They are all about renting limos, drinking, and “hooking up”. We are all about the Lord!”

About that time the waiter brought the nachos.
I looked up at him and said “You might want to cancel those pitchers of Margaritas”
I looked out at the table of my new singles class friends. They looked rather dumbfounded. I did my best to keep my poker face. The waiter looked at me confused, and after a long pause he asked:
 “Oh , you wanted pitchers of Margaritas too? Frozen, or on the rocks?”
 I looked at the lady who had just finished telling me about limos, drinks and hooking up. They were all looking at me, but no one was smiling. My face cracked and I bit my lip. 
First one, then all of the ladies from my singles class cracked up.


I tell you what, for a minute there it was touch and go.

Tuesday, April 04, 2017

MY GRAND ENTRANCE

I recall a bachelor party I went to in 1982. Actually, it was two bachelor parties.

The first bachelor party was at a strip club. Somehow I ended up with a strippers thong and G-String. But that’s a whole ‘nother story.
The next night, there was another bachelor party, kind of. A guy at work, Jack, was getting married and we went to his house at midnight when we got off work to party. I pulled up in front of Jacks house and remembered I had Crystal’s (the stripper from the night before) thong and G-String. So, I took of all my clothes and put them on, and a catchers mask and mitt I happened to have as well, and went bursting in the front door,  hopped up on to the coffee table singing and dancing to “Dirty White Boy”.
And was horrified to see Jacks three sisters sitting on the couch, in town from Boise.

Monday, April 03, 2017

MY FISH DIED

I'd forgotten about Blue Bayou's immaculate origins. I had bought her for my sisters birthday. Got a little glass bowl, filled it with those pretty glass rocks and some green seaweed, and Blue, a purplish blue and pink fan tailed Boa. I took it up to the rehabilitation hospital where my sister was recovering from a neck surgery.
I entered the room 'Happy Birthday Lisa!" but Lisa had had a bad day. She didnt like it there at all. There was a sign on her door that she was NOT to be disturbed for any reason before 9am, and that day Lisa had trashed her room like a rock star. I don't think she had thrown the TV out the window, but she had given it her best shot. She didn't want any part of me or Blue, and the next day she split from Rehab against medical advice and walked home.
Luckily, it was only about 5 blocks, but I think she would have tried it even if it had been 50 miles.
And that's how I came to have a fish named Blue Bayou.