Kill Vader

I would go see a Quentin Tarantino take on Star Wars. How about you?

The Lego Star Wars Theme . . .

Boys & Vegetables

The Boy, age 10, has been on an anti-vegetaable kick this year, along with all his friends.

Oh he'll eat them, but usually after many threats and lengthly negotiations.

"You have to eat at least four bites."

"Does this count as a bite?"

"No. The guinea pig would not consider that a bite."

"It fits on my fork . . . "

"One tine doesn't count."

"I can't believe you want me to be rude and take a giant bite. That's so wrong."

"There is a bite sized somewhere between what you have on your fork and a giant, mutant bite."

* deep sigh *

"You do realize that you could have finished eating your vegetables in the time you've wasted talking about them and could already be back on the Xbox 360 playing Halo Wars."

* scarfs up vegetables and runs *

Suddenly The Boy -- the same Boy from the preceeding conversation -- only wants to eat quiche, preferably with spinach, tomatoes, shallots, celery, red and green bell peppers and shredded carrot.

Last night I figured out why . . . 

I buy free-range eggs from a farm that is on the way to school.

Actual free-range eggs, from chickens who are usually standing in the driveway when you pull up.

A couple of weeks ago we had an incident involving an egg that should have stayed under its Mama.

The Boy is suddenly all about quiche because he is hoping for another such egg . . . 

And so I chop and slice the vegetables, while he does the eggs.

He is disappointed that he hasn't discovered another embryo, but is always pleased when he finds a double yolk, and spends entirely too much time worrying about chicken twins.

I'm still not sure if that counts as a positive method of encouraging vegetable consumption . . . 

Can Beauty Save Newspapers?

Polish designer Jacek Utko makes a strong case for creating and expanding markets via an equal emphasis on form and function.

Update

Things have changed.

Yes, thank you, I know that the only thing that doesn't change is change, but still . . . things have changed a lot.

I am back to cooking for a living, and it is hard, grueling work.

And I wonder why I ever stopped doing it in the first place . . . there is something in me that is only alive when there are 30 tickets hanging in my window and my grill is full.

More to come . . . and soon.

Best Piece of Advice I Never Received . . .

If someone tells you they enjoy being the center of attention, turn around and walk away.

Better yet, run.

Run fast, and run hard.

If you think they are kidding, or it is just an odd, quirky thing to say, or even pay no attention to it at all and let them into your life, they will find the thing you are best at, or care about the most, and they will destroy it.

Just because you were the center of something they were not . . .

And because you cared about it, it will hurt so much you that you will wish you could die, and the person simply won't care, and won't get it, because for them it was simply a game about being the center of attention.

They will have elaborate justifications for their behavior, and it will never be their fault. They will blame you, and they will drop you as soon as they are found out. Worse, they will take any available opportunity to rub your nose in it, including posting about it on the internet for you to find.

So do yourself a favor and walk away if you ever have the good fortune to be warned in advance.

The Husband is building a kick wheel.