What a Rube

At the intersection of innovation and hilarity you'll find Rube Goldberg.

Goldberg was the master of creating complicated solutions for simple tasks. Want to wipe your face with a napkin? All you need are a couple of spoons, a cracker, parrot, cup, bucket, yardarm, lighter, rocket, sickle and a clock. 

Easy peasy.

In reality, Rube Goldberg was a cartoonist, author, engineer, sculptor and inventor who created over 50,000 cartoons. In 1948, he won the Pulitzer Prize for political cartooning.

So, why the sudden fascination with Rube Goldberg?

Mr. Ginley and I went to the Maltz Museum yesterday. They're currently hosting an exhibit celebrating Goldberg's work. Much of it was geared toward kids, with interactive Goldberg-like setups. They showed videos of others who had set up Rube Goldberg contraptions. There's even an annual Rube Goldberg Machine Contest for kids 8-18 to encourage STEAM education. 

We toodled through and enjoyed the show, but it left me wanting to know more. I was most intrigued by Goldberg's cartoons that explained the step-by-step antics. There were several hilarious asides that are easy to miss of you're not paying attention. Suffice to say, I'll be looking for a book at the library. 

After we finished with the Rube Goldberg portion, we turned our attention to An American Story, the core exhibit at the Maltz. As it turned out, we spent way more time there. Mr. Ginley and I parted ways. I tend to breeze through museum exhibits, reading things that catch my eye. He reads every single thing, which means we didn't see nearly all there was to see. We'll be going back again. 

As we headed for the exit, I paused in front of one display. I'm not sure what made me stop and read. It was a plaque that talked about my friend, Rachelle's, Mom, Silvia Malcmacher. She and Rachelle's Dad were both holocaust survivors. They showed Silvia's postwar ID card and told a little about her. There was so much story in that one little photo. I know from Rachelle that she was an amazing, loving woman, a mother and grandmother who's missed every day. 

After a quick stop at the museum store where I bought a coffee cup I didn't need, we headed for lunch at Corky and Lenny's, a Jewish deli that's a Cleveland institution. It was our first experience, and they did not disappoint. Mr. had a barbecue brisket sandwich, and I had latkes. Yum!

It was definitely worthwhile schlepping to the east side of town!

Oy gevalt! Another coffee cup.

Cutting Back

Five words I never thought I'd hear Mr. Ginley utter: "You gave me too much."

my kind of recipe book

For the past several months, I've been taking my recipes and shimmying them down, and the results speak for themselves: Mr. has taken off 20+ pounds. 

I wish I could say the same for myself. The trouble is, even reducing the quantity of food I prepare, there are still leftovers. Which I consume the next day for lunch. Which means I'm having two big meals a day instead of one.

This is simply not working.

So...I must go back to the drawing board and look for new recipes. They must meet the following requirements:

• Make enough for two servings: Yes, I have managed to cut down existing recipes, but it's not always straightforward. (e.g. 1/16 cup)
• Use common ingredients: Mr. Ginley found a recipe from Gordon Ramsey the other day for kale salad that sounded good to him. However, I was stymied at the supermarket when I tried to find something called "Little Gem Lettuce." Also, if it uses little bits of lots of stuff, that's problematic. (Example: I buy a whole bunch of parsley for a recipe that calls for 2 tablespoons.) 
• Be easy to make: Yes, I'm working from home, but by the time I'm done for the day, I'm not up for fussy prep work.
• Be quick: I'm all about crock pot meals. Otherwise, it's gotta be done toot sweet. If I'm chopping ingredients for more than 15 minutes or simmering for more than 30, you can fuhgettaboutit.
• Pass the Food Approval Committee: Honestly, I should have started with this one. If my better half doesn't approve, the recipe is dead in the water. I can usually tell by looking at it if it's something he'll eat or not. (Anything with tofu, funky cheese or gravy is a non-starter.) But he sometimes surprises me (a la the aforementioned kale salad.)

Given that it's grilling season, many of our meals can be cooked outdoors, so that helps. It's easy enough to choose a smaller cut of meat. 

In the meantime, if anyone has any favorite recipes for two, please feel free to share with the class. 

I'm sure I'm not the only one cooking for two who would appreciate some new stuff to tickle the tastebuds.

Photo attribution: National Archives and Records Administration, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

What's Nest?

Screech. Screech. Screech.

"That bird is driving me nuts," I complained to Mr. Ginley.

My pic...I'm no George Frankovich

"What kind is it? Don't you have an app for that?" was his reply

I recorded the noise and put it through the Merlin app on my phone. 

It was a grey catbird. Just to confirm my findings, I texted a photo to my sister, Diane, who told me that was a good guess, although the photo was lousy, so it was hard to tell. She also indicated it was probably screeching at me because it was protecting its nest. And that I likely had to put up with a couple of weeks of this.

Ain't nature grand?

So for the past 13 days, from early morning to late evening, Mr./Mrs. Catbird has become the soundtrack of our summer. He/she sits on the phone cable outside our back window and hollers at us. Sometimes Maggie joins in, and the two have what I think is a rather ironic cat-bird conversation. I imagine Maggie is saying something like, "I'm in the house, numbnuts, I can't get at your stupid nest, would you please shut the f**ck up!" To which the bird replies, "Screech!" Over and over and over...

In the meantime, other woodland creatures have made their way into our backyard. Returning the other morning from retrieving the garbage can, I spotted a bunny, a squirrel and a robin in my backyard. None were particularly bothered by my presence. They just kind of looked at me, saw I wasn't going to feed them, shrugged and went about their business.

Oh, and the groundhogs are back. But I can't talk about that without grinding my teeth. Let's just say I'm once again engaged in a Wil-E-Coyote vs. Roadrunner situation. I don't think that's going to change anytime soon.

I'll admit I was hoping the haze that filled the air would have a detrimental effect on the groundhogs, but I haven't see the little asshats coughing, so I'm guessing they're doing just fine. Meantime, I've been sneezing to beat the band. 

Oh, well. 

Hopefully, we'll get some rain soon. And the fledgeling will leave the nest so Mom/Dad chill out.

I'd like to be able to open the windows again without getting yelled at from morning till night.

Beware the Jabberwock

When I was in fifth grade, I had to memorize Lewis Carroll's poem The Jabberwocky. It's a nonsense poem, and rumor has it he was under the influence when he wrote it.

My little must-have.

These days, when I open the newspaper, I feel as though I'm being transported back in time, reading those nonsensical lines.

'Twas brillig and the slivy toves...

This morning, for example, I read how lawmakers want to remove the tax on firearms because they're a necessity. They even had the balls to compare weaponry to baby formula and women's feminine products.

The last time I checked, baby formula and tampons were actually must-haves. Babies gotta eat, and women gotta...well, you know. 

If we're going to set laws establishing what constitutes life's necessities, I'd like to offer up my own list of things that shouldn't be taxed because they're vital to my well-being.

Music. If it weren't for down-and-dirty rock, nostalgic pop throwbacks and guilty easy-listening pleasures, I wouldn't be able to get through my day. 

Books. Reading is fundamental. I know that's true, because I saw it in an ad campaign once upon a time. (Although I did find it ironic that people who don't read may not know what "fundamental" means.)

Bubble Bath. It relaxes me. And it smells real nice.

Margaritas. I've lately discovered these little cans that contain just enough alcohol to send me to my happy place. A necessity, indeed.

Jigsaw Puzzles. They relax me, and I've read that they may stave off dementia. Emotional and mental health support in 500 or 1,000 little pieces. 

Art. This one might be a little tricky. While some art touches my soul, there's a lot of crap I could do without. I'll get back to you on this.

Toilet Paper. Please explain to me why this is NOT a necessity. Go ahead, I'm waiting...

Clothes. No one besides Mr. Ginley wants to see me without them, so this is as much a necessity for others as it is for me.

I'm willing to negotiate. I'll gladly continue to pay taxes on my "necessities" if lawmakers drop their proposed tax exemption on weapons. Keep in mind that taxes pay for our children's education, libraries, road maintenance and public services. If we don't pay taxes, we'll be paying a steeper price down the road.

Okay, I'm stepping down off my soapbox now. 

Feel free to chime in with any necessities I may have missed.