What will they say about you when you die?

What will they say about you when you die? 

You read the obits. Famous people die and other famous people say nice things. I’ve interviewed two Presidents and a bunch of famous people, but I’m thinking none of them will remember me and have anything nice to say to an obit writer. So we’re left with that rather sterile obit listing our jobs and a few noteworthy accomplishments, maybe how generous we were, or how we helped something somewhere, or that we were wonderful parents and husbands. I’m divorced, so I’m guessing I won’t get that “wonderful husband” line in my obit. Newspapers have notes and files all ready to be turned into wonderful obituaries should said well-known person pass away. They also have obituary writers whose skills have been honed for years writing about all kinds of people. 

Of course there’s a big difference between an obit writer at The New York Times and your average local paper, but local people read local obituaries. The obituaries and police blotter are two biggies for readers locally. We want to see which neighbors died and which ones got arrested. The other biggie locally is the listing of mortgage and warranty deeds, because we want to see how much our neighbors got when they sold their houses. 

But then there are those obituaries, the final statement on our lives. Does it matter that we gave to the local food bank, or sent footballs to Toys for Tots every year, or gave our leftover pizza to the homeless guy instead of taking it home, or maybe paid for a meal of some strangers? Of course it does, and that’s what makes us in the end. 

Maybe in the end we hope the obit writer will quote someone who says, “He was a nice guy.” 

Just Add a Little Mustard to Spice Up Your Life

Mustard is a condiment made from the seeds of a mustard plant (white or yellow mustard, brown or Indian mustard, or black mustard). The whole, ground, cracked or bruised mustard seeds are mixed with water, salt, lemon juice or other liquids and sometimes other flavorings and spices to create a paste or sauce ranging in color from bright yellow to dark brown. (Wikipedia)

If you have issues wading through the thousands of barbeque sauce options, then you’re going to have a lot more issues trying to pick your favorite mustards . . . There seem to be millions of them.

But mustard is also a more “divisive” condiment than barbeque sauce, and a lot of people just don’t care for the spicy stuff. For a number of people, mustard simply boils down to the bright yellow goodness we put on hot dogs every summer. We run into the grocery store, grab a squeeze bottle of French’s yellow mustard (or something equally grocery-store-shelf visible), a bottle of ketchup, jar of sweet relish and we’re off to the cookout. And that’s it.

Let’s add a few twists, and expand y com our mustard horizons just a touch.

First, yellow mustard. This is what I reach for first when I’m having a couple of hot dogs. My usual pick is French’s, if for no other reason than it’s the one I usually see first on the shelf, but Heinz is readily available and just as good. These are all pretty simple, with just a touch of bite. Ya gotta love the electric yellow color, though.

Sweet mustard works with a number of foods. No, not hot dogs, but as a dip, or on a grilled ham and cheese, with a cheese plate, on grilled chicken or pork, or on the side with your Easter ham. Find one with a good balance between the sweet (usually honey) and the mustard. A simple choice like French’s Honey Mustard doesn’t offer a great deal of complexity or underlying spice, but it’s cheap and easy to find. Gulden’s has good sweetness and a bit more spice.

Some of my new favorites are Little Thief Mustards, available through Lucero Olive Oil (www.lucerooliveoil.com). Try the Tequila Jalapeno Kiss, Beer Blaze or Sweet Roasted Garlic. All have good depth and aren’t moderately spicy. Good as dips or ham and turkey sandwiches.

(As an aside, our favorite, Harrington’s Honey Mustard isn’t in the lineup because to order two jars costs more to ship than purchase. For a $14.95 item, $14.99 is simply a ridiculous shipping charge, so we didn’t order any. This is an issue most companies have favorably addressed, but some, like Harrington’s, whose products we love, charges for shipping based on purchase priced, not on weight or a flat fee up to a certain dollar amount. Lucero, as a comparison, charges a flat rate of $8.95 for an order up to $100, and free shipping after that.)

Want spice? The whole world just opened up.

Start with Gulden’s Spicy Brown Mustard, a pantry favorite, has good moderate spice, and a smooth, creamy texture. Nathan’s regular Cooney Island mustard is a good choice for hot dogs (go figure), but I found their Spicy Brown mustard OK on spice, but a bit off-putting on texture with a slight mushy grainy feel. Kosciusko Spicy Brown Mustard has mild spice and is smooth and creamy. Grey Poupon, another household favorite, offers a wide variety of mustards (like Guldens), from the standard dijon to a slightly seedy Country Dijon to a more robust and seedy whole grain mustard. None are too spicy. I use Grey Poupon on sandwiches, with pork and in vinaigrettes.

Want more kick? . . . Start with the classic Coleman’s Mustard in the iconic small jar. They, too, make a variety of mustards, but are best known for that English mustard and a sharp mustard power. Try adding the powder to spice mixes and barbeque rubs. The jarred mustard is great on pastrami, corned beef or roast beef sandwiches or brats and other sausages. (Bangers and mash anyone?)

Horseradish lovers owe themselves a jar of western New York regional favorite Weber’s Horseradish Mustard, a sharp, nose-clearing yellow mustard loaded with horseradish . . . perfect for sandwiches, a rub on pork or with brats.

Where to start? Find a mustard you like and try other varieties within its family. Ask a few mustard-loving friends what they like and add those choices to your pantry. 

Our First Annual Barbeque Sauce Cook Off and Taste Test

How much barbeque sauce do you go through in a year? A case or two? Just a few bottles in the summer?

If you’re like me, there’s always something to cook, and something to slather with sauce. But which one?

A quick walk through the grocery store shows there are dozens and dozens. And that doesn’t count regional favorites, small batch sauces, mail order offerings and even local or restaurant choices. Whew.

That’s a lot of bbq sauce.

In this, the First Annual Bare Moose BBQ Sauce Cook Off, we try to narrow the big name choices. (For those wondering what the heck Bare Moose is, it started as a name idea for a store  . . . Bare Moose Provisions . . . and has kind of taken off from there to encompass many things food . . . Imaginary, but, hey what the heck.)

So we tested a bunch of readily available barbeque sauces (yes, it can be spelled barbecue as well), and narrowed it down to four of the better options. All are pretty reasonably prices, too, so you don’t have to worry about any of them jacking your cookout budget when Aunt Martha calls and wants to bring the other side of the family. With some sauces costing upwards of $8 to $10 a bottle, that $2.50 to $5 looks pretty good. And check around, too, since there’s always something on sale. Stock up and you’ll have bbq sauce ammo for the season.

We tested the sauces on hamburgers, chicken and ribs. We selected sauces of the sweet, ketchup-based variety, since that’s what most people around these Northeastern parts use, so they’re easier to find than Carolina-type sauces, as an example.

After stuffing ourselves with meaty goodness, the four left standing . . . KC Masterpiece, Bulls-eye, Stubbs and Sweet Baby Ray’s . . . Made it to the finals.

Generally speaking, three of them are sweet . . . real sweet . . . All three contain high fructose corn syrup. The Stubbs Original doesn’t. That tale is told on the labels, as well, with the Stubbs having 6g of total carbs and the others between 13g and 18g. High fructose corn syrup is listed as the first ingredient in the Sweet Baby Ray’s and Bulls-eye, and the second ingredient in the KC Masterpiece.

If you like sweet, then Sweet Baby Ray’s is for you. Solid bbq taste, with some spice showing and a touch of mild heat, thick and sticky.

The Bulls-eye, too, is thick, darker, typical flavor, but not overwhelmingly candy-like.

The KC Masterpiece is similar to the Bulls-eye, but a touch less sweet (just a touch) and didn’t seem to have the more round smokey flavor of the Sweet Baby Ray’s or the Bulls-eye. Both KC Masterpiece nd Bulls-eye had decent spice flavors.

The Stubbs was lighter in color and thinner, with a much more pronounced vinegar and pepper flavor, better heat, and mild molasses, but not much hickory-like flavor. It tastes cleaner than the others, but those looking for the usual sweetness may be disappointed.

The Verdict

If you like thick and sweet, the Sweet Baby Ray’s is for you. It has a slightly better rounded flavor than Bulls-eye and Masterpiece. But it is sweet, so get a small bottle to start before you buy the big double-bottle warehouse size.

But try a bottle of the Stubbs for some variety. It’s all natural (which doesn’t mean it’s good for you, just that you can understand what the label says) and tastes cleaner and less processed than the others.

(Coming soon . . . our take on mustard and steak sauce . . .)     

A Couple of Fishing Memories Happy Father's Day, Dad

My Dad’s not a fisherman, but two of my favorite memories are fishing with him. He was one of the busiest business guys in the world, but Dad always made time for us.

He’d come home from work on Friday night, that huge briefcase of his filled with papers, and we’d head to Vermont for a weekend of skiing. Mom, who seemed to be the busiest Mom in the world, was always there to pick us up, drive us to friends’ houses, make us do our homework and I’m guessing double-checked to make sure I was always wearing matching socks, and always managed to have a huge cooler of food ready for the trip to Vermont. (She was also really good at reminding Dad of people’s names.) Car packed and kids in pajamas, when Dad got home with that heavy briefcase filled with papers, we’d hustle into the car and head off.

Now that was a time when kids managed to survive sleeping in the back seat and on the floor of the Country Squire as we made our way north. I remember getting out of the car and the cold air blasting me, the snow crunching under foot. Mom didn’t learn to ski until she married Dad, and one day as she was learning he found her at the top of the Lord’s Prayer ski run at Bromley after her ski instructor had to take the rest of the class down. Guess it worked out OK, though, they’ve been married 64 years. Mom skied for 50-plus years, all over the world. Dad skied for a bit longer, two artificial knees and all. Somewhere I have an old photo of him holding me between his skis as we took the rope tow up at Catamount. He had two real knees back then. That was a long time ago.

I don’t remember when or where I learned to fish, but I do remember fishing with my grandfather, Papa Brophy, at a summer place they had at Merriwold in the Catskills, a small, cabin-like house on a small, no motorboats lake. I remember him taking me out in the wooden row boat and “jitterbugging” for bass with a long bamboo pole that had three-feet of line tied to the end of it holding a big old Jitterbug plug. He’d swipe that long pole back and forth, the hefty plug making all kinds of a racket on the water around the lilly pads, and darn if a big old bass or pickerel wouldn’t hit that thing. I’m not sure whether the fish thought it was some kind of a food-critter like a mouse making that racket, or just was pissed at all the water noise. I should also shamefully admit that my grandmother, Nana, rowed that big heavy row boat around the small lake while a friend and I trolled, sitting on the seat together, watching our lines, while Nana rowed and chatted with us about everything in the world. I loved it there, and my friends loved it, too.

Now Papa was part of one of those fishing memories of mine, a trip to Canada, hosted by a business guy Dad knew who owned a fishing camp at the edge of a lake. As a young guy, this place was just amazing. I remember a well-appointed log cabin, not fancy, but sitting right at the edge of a lake with a long dock just a short walk out the back door, two large picture windows on either side of that door letting in tons of light and offering a continual lake seduction to a young kid who figured the biggest trout in the world were in there somewhere. Electricity came via a generator that was shut off at night, and a large ice house was stacked floor to ceiling with big blocks of saw-dust-covered ice cut from the lake the winter before.

So there I was in Canada with Dad and Papa . . . fishing. Remember that Dad isn’t a fisherman. But there we were, out on a lake. Dad and his Dad in one boat, and me and the business guy in another. The business guy recommended using lures with red and white on them, like a Daredevil. So we’re casting and catching a fish here and there when the business guy leans over, opens his tackle box and unwraps a paper towel to reveal several pieces of steak from the previous night’s dinner. I have to say Dad and Papa couldn’t figure out why were catching more fish than they were. (We did confess later.) Now the final piece of the Canadian tale was the embarrassing fact that at the end of the day, we were about to pose for a photo, a string of trout laid in the open trunk of the big black Chrysler sedan as we took off a few extra articles of clothing and got ready to pose . . . and Steve closes the trunk. Fish and keys inside. The car had a push-button automatic transmission, which I had never seen before. Funny what we remember.

When I was a bit older, Dad took me to an Orvis/Winchester clinic at Stratton Mountain in Vermont, a place where Mom and Dad found the rundown old farmhouse they renovated and turned into a second home that entertained family and friends for decades.

At the clinic, we learned how to cast a fly rod, taught by Lee Wulff and his wife, Joan. No, really . . . Lee and Joan Wulff. (For the rest of my life, the fly I reach for first is some type of Wulff fly, often a Royal Wulff, since it has a touch of that red and white the Canadian business guy said trout liked.) We shot Winchester rifles, and cast hookless flies at the base of the mountain, a wide trail serving as a “run” for a fake deer on a cable motored across the opening so we could take a Polaroid photo of it with a camera mounted on a gun. I was glad we didn’t actually kill anything.

The clinic the next day was moved to the Battenkill River, and we took what we learned into the cool running water of the iconic trout stream, casting to resting fish near the bank, downstream from logs or rocks, or tucked into a piece of calm water in a riffle.

Me and Dad.

He isn’t a fisherman, but he took me fishing.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad

The Problem with Moralists Is They Always Think They're Right . . . Everyone Else be Damned

So why fight these fights if the wave of change is clear?

It seems to me, we sometimes hold on to what we think believe dear. And sometimes we don’t see a bigger picture. To these politicians, being anti-gay is right. Homosexuality is wrong, and therefore needs to be punished and squashed. So they want to punish those who are gay.

As their 2012 platform read, "We affirm that the practice of homosexuality tears at the fabric of society and contributes to the breakdown of the family unit. Homosexual behavior is contrary to the fundamental, unchanging truths that have been ordained by God, recognized by our country's founders, and shared by the majority of Texans."

The current document, adopted in 2012, condemns equality for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender individuals. There are multiple sections dealing with the issue, including language that reads: According to a draft of the new platform, obtained by the San Antonio Express-News/Houston Chronicle, that language is gone.

And while that language is gone, there’s still this, “Homosexuality must not be presented as an acceptable alternative lifestyle, in public policy, nor should family be redefined to include homosexual couples. We believe there should be no granting of special legal entitlements or creation of special status for homosexual behavior, regardless of state of origin. Additionally, we oppose any criminal or civil penalties against those who oppose homosexuality out of faith, conviction, or belief in traditional values. We recognize the legitimacy and value of counseling which offers reparative therapy and treatment to patients who are seeking escape from the homosexual lifestyle. No laws or executive orders shall be imposed to limit or restrict access to this type of therapy.”

The vast majority of state Republican platforms still contain anti-gay language. According to a count by The Huffington Post, only seven states (and Washington DC) have no mention of opposition to same-sex marriage or other rights for LGBT individuals in their party platforms.

While there are many more issues in the world (and Texas), than gay rights, I continue to be amazed at the party’s political blindness. Is this not seen as pointed discriminatory thought? Do these people not see that they are purposely telling fellow humans that they do not have the same rights as straight people? Let’s be clear, too, that this carries beyond marriage equality . . . it carries into same-sex partner benefits, housing, job discrimination and even so-called (falsely) “religious freedom” acts that enable business owners to refuse to serve gays.

How are those things different than segregation laws?

How is “religious freedom” and different than keeping black people out of stores and restaurants in days past? Or throwing women out of work because they’re women? And on and on.

It isn’t . . . and it’s shameful. The cover is religion . . . That’s how people justify bad behavior, and have forever. Can’t we see what’s right and moral without the cloud of religion inserted into our politics? Of course, should anyone criticize that they are tagged “anti-religion” and are “waging a war” on religion.

Nope . . . I’m not anti-religion at all. Believe whatever you like . . . I’m just anti-hate and discrimination. I think everyone should have the same rights as everyone else . . . and no group of people should be cut out of that. Simple.

 I wonder if we denied Texans access to their partners’ hospital rooms, threw them out of restaurants or fired them for being Texans if they’d see the picture a bit differently. Maybe not . . . That’s the problem with moralists . . . They think they are always right.

Why Can't Republicans See the Error of Their Ways on Gay Rights?

Republicans argue that they aren’t waging a policy war on women, and though state and regional legislative votes and proposed Congressional legislation speak otherwise, there is no question the party is waging a hateful and vicious war on gays.

Despite an obvious shift in voter opinions on gay marriage, Republicans continue to add to their already extreme anti-gay positions, doubling-down wherever they can, however they can.

The latest example is Texas, where the Republican draft platform openly endorses and encourages “gay conversion therapy,” a controversial, medically rejected therapy that they say can cause “significant physical and psychological harm.” Two states, California and New Jersey have banned the practice on minors.

In Pew Research polling in 2001, Americans opposed same-sex marriage by a 57% to 35% margin.

Since then, support for same-sex marriage has steadily grown. Today, a majority of Americans (54%) support same-sex marriage, compared with 39% who oppose it. Some 68 percent of those born after 1980 support gay marriage, up from 44 percent in 2004.

Among people who are religiously unaffiliated, a solid majority have supported same-sex marriage since 2001.

Among Catholics and white mainline Protestants, roughly six-in-ten now express support for same-sex marriage. Support for same-sex marriage also has grown among black Protestants (to 44 percent from 19 percent in 2004). Support among white evangelical Protestants remains lower than among other groups (up from 11 percent in 2004 to 23 percent now). (Pew)

Various detailed polls and studies on same-sex marriage that were conducted in several countries show that support for same-sex marriage generally increases with higher levels of education, and that younger people are more likely to support legalization than older generations. (Wiki) Something reflected in the Pew polling.

The trend is clear and irrefutable, but Republicans are stuck in their anti-gay rut. I’m not sure why they can’t step away from it. I suppose it’s an issue that fires up the local and regional base, but with state after state having anti-gay marriage bans overturned, what’s the upside for the GOP?

Texas (They do have good barbeque anyway . . . and a bunch of other good stuff, thank goodness . . .) is living in a political Stone Age. The GOP platform also contains sections endorsing the federal Defense of Marriage Act, which defines marriage as being between one man and one woman. The U.S. Supreme Court struck down a major portion of that law last year, paving the way for judges around the country to declare marriage equality legal. There are now 19 states plus the District of Columbia where same-sex marriage is allowed.

So why is the Texas GOP fighting these battles?

A year ago I had two feet . . . But I'm still alive and well . . .

THE END

It has been nearly a year since I crashed and ended up spending more time than anyone would want in the hospital. But I’ve been home for a few months and things couldn’t be better.

Oh sure, it’s a pain in the ass waking up in the middle of the night and having to put on your right leg to go to the bathroom, but one adjusts. One either has to or just fade away, and after all that time not here, I’m really happy to be here at home.

The ramp in the hallway from the living room to the bedroom is just fine, and the wider doors are perfect with the wheelchair when I use it. I do exercises every morning in bed after my shower, meditate then do some strength building, up and down the ramp 10 or 20 times, some standing exercises in the kitchen (squats, side and back leg kicks and the like) holding on to the counter, and walking with crutches either outside (when the driveway’s clear) or a few laps around the house.

A very nice young lady, Becky 2.0 (as opposed to my friend Becky), comes and cleans every couple of weeks and Chasity grocery shops for me, takes out the trash and picks up the mail. It’s hard to carry much using crutches, but some of those things will be easier when I can drive.

Yep, it’s been nearly a year since I’ve driven as well, as previous posts have outlined. Most places frown on right-leg-amps driving with a regular vehicle set-up, so one has to adapt a vehicle with hand controls or a left-foot accelerator. After reading up on the options, I didn’t want a left-foot accelerator (and my evaluation when I started driver training recommended hand controls as well). So that’s where I am now, learning how to drive with hand controls. With a few lessons left and my new used Jeep to be adapted, driving again will soon be a reality. Yipppeeee. Freedom.

The most recent visit to the doc showed everything appears good . . . weight (too heavy, but better), blood pressure and pulse normal, and blood sugar (A1C) very normal. All my old medications have been trashed for new medications, lower doses and less strong drugs. All good.

My bucket list for the year includes a bunch of things (hey, lying around a hospital causes one to make all kinds of lists), including some fishing and lots more photography. I’d love to take a dip in a pool, but have to figure out how I can get in and out of it. (That could prove embarrassing.)

We all make adjustments in our lives. Thanks to my family and my friends, I’m here and able to make a few adjustments. Turns out you can teach an old guy at least a few tricks.