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Showing posts from April, 2014

TCM Turns Twenty

Most times when a cable or TV channel celebrates an anniversary, there's nothing to celebrate. Channels change, evolve, keep up with the ever important advertising dollars that force them to bend to the will of their demographics report. Sure, they'll have graphics to mark how many years they have been around, and it's all a large “pat ourselves on the back” moment. However, this year marks an anniversary that's actually worth celebrating. In a sea of endless reasons why there's no reason to keep cable TV in the year 2014, one channel stands alone, and that channel is the movie oasis known as Turner Classic Movies.
I'm sure it's not going to shock anyone that I'm seeing it fit to write about their 20th year of broadcasting—it's my go to channel. The channel my cable box is usually on when I start it up, and I drink my daily coffee out of one of three TCM coffee mugs. Yes, you could say I'm a fan. To my knowledge, TCM is most unique in that i…

Your Table Is Ready

We both knew going into the restaurant at seven on a Friday night was asking for a long wait, but it was the only time she was free, so we went with it. It wasn't a particularly upscale place, and it wasn't a particularly downscale place either, but it was the type of place full of people on a Friday night. After a twenty minute wait in a cramp waiting room surrounded by strangers—which always makes me a little uneasy—our table was ready. A plucky hostess came to seat us.
Our table was one of the two that bordered the large, circular table for groups that sat in the corner of the dining area. I glanced at the table as I waited for my dining partner to sit down. There was five people there, looking at menus with two more menus on the table, they were waiting for people. I sat at the table, and we both opened up our menus and began to look over what we might want to digest. As this was going on, we heard the voice of a woman, it was shrill, not loud, but audible. “If you to…

Easter Eggs and Ruined Pears

There's a reason why I'm always offering to host each year's Easter meal gathering at my house. The reason being I can control the food, and guarantee that I will have a good time regardless of what anyone else thinks. Selfish? Perhaps, but sometimes it's better to deal with massive amounts of family on home turf than it is an away court. So it came to pass that as I was gearing up to host for the fourth year in a row, there was a twenty pound spiral cut ham in my fridge.
This was an all natural beauty. This ham was the type of ham that inspired poetry. The type of ham that makes you proud to be an American. Sometimes on days when I was feeling at my lowest, I'd open up the fridge, put on a Christopher Cross album, stare at the ham, and let the muse take me where it might (Now you all know why I wrote Pride and Prejudice with Ham). I went to bed the Wednesday night before Easter feeling great, excited about the ham filled delights the weekend would bring.