:: Privatjokr ::

If you think holding hands is all in the fingers, grab hold of the soul where the memory lingers...

Books to the ceiling, books to the sky. My piles of books are a mile high. How I love them! How I need them! I'll have a long beard by the time I read them. by Arnold Lobel

Preparation Time: 1 minute
Cooking Time: 2 or more hours, mostly unattended
Resting Time: 15 to 35 minutes
Serves: 8 to 10

Ingredients:
8- to 10-pound rib roast
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons salt
1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper

HEAT the oven to 425 degrees.
RUB roast with oil, then salt and pepper. Set in a large roasting pan and place
in oven.
ROAST meat for 15 minutes per pound.
CHECK the internal temperature of the roast after 1 hour and 45 minutes, using
an instant-read thermometer placed in its midsection. 125 degrees is rare, 135
degrees is medium, and 155 degrees is well-done.
REMOVE roast from oven when it reaches the desired internal temperature.
Transfer meat to a cutting board and loosely tent it with aluminum foil. Do not
even think about cutting into it for at least 15 minutes; 30 to 35 minutes of
resting time is better. Once beef has been rested, discard foil, slice, and
serve.

This was the first time we have made a prime rib without using a Popeil Showtime Rotisserie, which is such a great product. I was annoyed by the "Set it and forget it!" infomercials, but somehow one made its way to my mom's kitchen.

We did not use it because instead of the usual 3 rib roast, this year we had a 5 rib roast to accommodate more eaters. Ours was a nearly 15 pound roast. For a piece of meat that size, I feel the 15 minutes per pound roasting time is a little on the conservative side. Given my preference, we would revert back to the old way, but roasting in the oven still produced a beautiful piece of meat.

The only thing other than cooking time where we diverted from the basic recipe above was in adding probably 6 minced cloves of garlic to the salt and pepper that was rubbed on the roast before it was placed in the oven.

It is another simple recipe for a fantastic meal, if you're in the market. Just be sure to invite me over, even though you might have to fight me for the ribs; they are by far the best part.

We have, as human beings, a storytelling problem. We're a bit too quick to come up with explanations for things we don't really have an explanation for. ...people are ignorant of the things that affect their actions, yet they rarely feel ignorant. We need to accept our ignorance and say 'I don't know' more often.

There is no hesitation in calling this one of my favorite restaurants in Michigan. I only wish that I made the effort to go more often.

The signs are hard to read, but you find Red Coat on the east side of Woodward, north of 13 mile road. The building is not a large one, and it has the feel of a lodge in the woods. You will probably want to call ahead to put your name on the to-be-seated list as it is usually pretty busy.
(248) 549-0300

The menu is complete with Traditional "American" foods, but I don't need it when I go there. I always do and always will get the same thing. I start with a bowl of clam chowder, then I have a cheeseburger and onion rings. Each item is the best I have had. There is really nothing like a good hand battered onion ring. I could make a meal just out of these. If you're so inclined, they do have a "burger sauce" which I believe is a mayonnaise based sauce with minced onion. I haven't had it, so I cannot comment; cheese and ketchup suits me just fine.

The prices are extremely reasonable. When I was there the other night, there were 7 of us having dinner. Including a few drinks, before tip, our bill was $90. The large party was probably not advisable on such a busy night, but there was not too much of a problem seating us.

The staff is friendly and accomodating. I have never had any complaints, but there has been more than one occassion when they have gone out of their way for me. That is always appreciated.

Have you ever heard the expression "burning the candle from both ends"? It was always used in my presence in the context of doing too much; staying up too late and getting up too early in the morning. I am often told that I burn the candle from both ends when I try to fit too many activities into too little time. Unlike many people my age, I do not work 60-80-100 hours each week, but I do fill my dance card pretty well. I manage to get 4-6 hours of sleep each night during the week, though every once and awhile I will pick a day to sacrifice. I will go to sleep at roughly 6PM and sleep through the night and recharge my batteries. I think I may need to do that tonight.

I had planned to go to bed relatively early last night. After my exams ended on Sunday afternoon I have been wishing for a day of rest, though I am too stubborn to take a day off from work. The most I can hope for is a chance to be at home, in bed, ready for sleep at a decent hour. That was planned last night, though it never came through. In no way, however, am I disappointed.

Friends and family joined me for dinner last night at one of my favorite restaurants. We had a great meal, some relatively interesting conversation and one or more laughs. My plan was to enjoy dinner out and then go straight home and try to settle in for the evening. It was a great idea in theory, all until Josh had to ask where we were going after dinner.

What is nice is that when something happens, rest assured one of two people will either be blamed for the event itself or having some bizarre influence over causing the effect. You can always know, if not me, then Josh. I will need heavy doses of caffeine today, and I blame Josh. It was his idea to go out, so I point the finger at him, but the stories are great and he gets the credit.

It is not a secret that I have a hard time saying "no" when invited to go out. Most opportunities to do so excite me. There was no surprise, to me anyway, that I abandoned my plan for sleep in favor of going out after dinner. And you know why? No good stories ever come from being in bed early. You do not always get good stories from the bar, but at least the potential is there. Sometimes you have to roll the dice. Last night, my horse came in.

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On November 14, 1959 two men broke into a country home in a small Kansas town. If they were in search of something, that was vastly overshadowed by what they did. On that night so many years ago, the two men brutally murdered the family living there. Details of the four people murdered made their way into the New York Times and I am sure caught the attention of many. One man in particular was moved enough to want to write about it. He wanted to learn everything he could and write an article on how the town was reacting to this tragedy. After arriving in Kansas and talking to a few people, he realized there was too much material for an article. He would have to write a book. This movie tells Truman Capote's story as he researches and writes his novel In Cold Blood.

Capote used the fame acquired from best-selling fiction novels, the name popularized from them, and his publisher's deep pockets to obtain unrestricted access to information and to the two men charged with the crime. From there he used his manipulative personality and his supercharged drive to write this book to pry into the lives of Richard Eugene Hickock and Perry Edward Smith; the convicted.

At first glance, I had decided not to see Capote. My movie watcher-actor relationship with Philip Seymour Hoffman has never been strong. He has been in good movies (Almost Famous, Patch Adams), but I have never had much respect for his work in them. I have never seen any archive footage of Truman Capote, so I cannot speak to how well Hoffman played Capote. Trueness to the character aside, I was very impressed with Hoffman's performance. Too often I find his characters devoid of emotion. That may be the way they are written, but it comes across to me as attributed to Hoffman. As Truman Capote he felt, and he felt deeply. You may not like it, but you will feel along with him as you watch Capote.

Clifton Collins Jr. is a name that I wish more people knew. In Capote Collins has a very important role; he was cast as Perry Smith, the convicted young man to which Truman Capote devotes the most time. Based on the amount of on screen time he had, I hate to say that I thought it unfortunate that he had such a small role. When I say that, I mean that I am disappointed by how few speaking parts he had, but that was the nature of his character and the will of the makers of the movie. I think he has talent and decent potential. He has worked with big names earlier in his career, Samuel L. Jackson in 187 and Robert Redford in The Last Castle, but I think landing the role in Capote was his biggest step forward. Maybe after seeing Capote you will finally remember the name Clifton Collins, Jr.

Catherine Keener plays Capote's long time friend and research assistant Nell Harper Lee. That name may ring familiar, if it does it will be most likely from the book she wrote while she helped Truman Capote work on his. Her book was titled To Kill A Mockingbird. If you have seen Keener in other movies, you may know her as a strong willed, patient woman. This holds true in Capote as well.

The movie really makes you want to like Truman Capote, it his Truman himself that fights to make you dislike him. As the protagonist watchers struggle with him to get information, but it is his choices of what to do with that information that causes conflict. What I learned from the movie Capote is that Truman Capote was a very self-absorbed man. Each and everything he did in his adult life appeared to be self-serving or not worth his time. You see the relationships he has developed. We get to know two the two people closest in his life, yet even their friendship is at his convenience. They see the good in him and wish to share it with him, but more often than not it seems to be buried beneath his own motives.

This book was not a part of his life, rather it was his life as he wrote it and it left irreparable damage once this chapter in his life was closed. It consumed him and you may take solace as it seems he does see the error in his ways at the end. Hindsight is 20/20, so they say. We are led to believe he could not forgive himself; it will be on a case by case basis whether we as viewers, now privy to the details, can forgive him.

The movie was very graphic, so I do warn you about that, but if it is actually possible, I must say the graphic nature of Capote was done tastefully and it did serve a purpose. There was nothing gratuitous about it.

I liked Capote very much. I love profound movies, and Capote certainly was that. I recommend you see this in the theater if you have the chance. If not, on DVD will have to suffice.

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One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest By Ken Kesey

In this classic novel of the 1960's, Ken Kesey's hero is Randle Patrick McMurphy, a boisterous, brawling, fun-loving rebel who swaggers into the world of a mental hospital and takes over. A lusty, life-affirming fighter, McMurphy rallies the other patients around him by challenging the dictatorship of Big Nurse. He promotes gambling in the ward, smuggles in wine and women, and openly defies the rules at every turn. But this defiance, which starts as a sport, soon develops into a grim struggle, an all-out war between two relentless opponents: Big Nurse, backed by the full power of authority...McMurphy, who has only his own indomitable will. What happens when Big Nurse uses her ultimate weapon against McMurphy provides the story's shocking climax.

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Wet Hot American Summer

Camp Firewood. 1981. It's the last day of camp and everyone is busy. Camp director Beth (Janeane Garofalo) is trying to keep order while falling in love with astrophysicist Henry (David Hyde Pierce). Henry is trying to save the camp from being hit by a piece of SKYLAB hurtling toward Earth. Camp counselor Coop is in love with Katie, who is in love with lifeguard Andy. If that's not enough, there's a waterfall rescue, talking vegetable cans, the misfits, the cool kids...and more!

It's a star-filled, laugh-a-minute, crazy comedy. Summer camp was never this much fun!

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Lester Bangs: The only true currency in this bankrupt world... is what you share with someone else when you're uncool.

I drink what is safely my daily requirement for water. I have a bottle that I refill at various strategic times throughout the day. When I go to restaurants, maybe you should just leave the pitcher. It will save you a good deal of effort.

I have never worked in the food service industry, maybe therein lies the source of my confusion. If you do not leave me the pitcher and then refill my water glass when you see it empty, would you not prefer to minimize the amount of trips? Do you honestly enjoy noticing that yet again my glass is empty so that you may fill it once more? I'm not much of a betting man, but I would wager you do not. Your time would probably be more enjoyed if you were sitting on a stool in the kitchen watching time pass than refilling my water.

Here is a tip. This one is on the house. When you are now refilling my water for the umpteenth time and 85% of the space inside the glass is occupied by ice cubes, that is ridiculous. Stop giving me more ice each time you refill my water. Just stop. I know you want to make sure my water is ice cold so I might enjoy it more thoroughly, but truth be told I do not let it last that long in most instances. All you are doing is creating more work for yourself because I am able to drain the glass more quickly because there is less water in it to begin with as less fits in between all of those lovely ice cubes.

Yes, I honestly get worked up over this.

Does it get any better than with Ludwig Van? I think not. This album is fantastic. I am normally not a huge classical music listener, but I was looking for some to listen to while I study. When I go to the library to get work done, I like the quiet, but I get distracted by people shuffling their feet and whatever else. Having my headphones on eliminates that background noise. Music with words, even if I do not know them, is still distracting. Some jazz, though wordless, is too fast and thus counterproductive as well. Beethoven is just what the doctor ordered.

I cannot refer to what I have done thus far in school as success, but what I have been able to do I attribute to Beethoven. These songs relax me when I get worked up and help me concentrate when I study. The songs are all good, but by far I recommend track 2 over the rest. Fur Elise has become what may be my all-time favorite recording.

I did not choose this album specifically when I was looking for classical music. I actually happened upon it quite randomly. I listened to a few other albums which had some of the same tracks, but were not quite what I was looking for. Then came the Immortal Beloved soundtrack. The rest is history.

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Rumack: Captain, how soon can you land? Captain Oveur: I can't tell. Rumack: You can tell me. I'm a doctor. Captain Oveur: No. I mean I'm just not sure. Rumack: Well, can't you take a guess? Captain Oveur: Well, not for another two hours. Rumack: You can't take a guess for another two hours?

At the risk of bragging about my awe-inspiring social calendar, I will divulge just one juicy tidbit. When I go to the movies, more often than not I go alone. You are jealous, I am flattered and no, you cannot touch me.

It has become second nature to me and I do not think twice anymore about going alone. For a long time I had my reservations about going stag to the movies, but then I realized that it is no big deal. It is not like we are going to talk during the movie anyway, right? So what is the point of having to have someone next to you? All it would really mean is that I have to share my popcorn. Not cool. There are certain movies and genres of movies where it makes more or less sense to see them alone as opposed to in a group.

It is legitimate to request company to a horror movie; you will get no arguments from me if you need an arm to squeeze at the scary parts.

Some people feel that in the scenario of a good knee-slapping comedy it is best to have an escort. I will agree that it may be better, but I have become comfortable enough on my own to still belt out with laughter even though I am alone. I did use to struggle with that and would sit tight lipped. I found myself not enjoying movies as much as I felt they deserved. I saw one funny movie on my own, then again with friends. The difference was amazing. The movie hadn't changed, but I laughed out loud much more the second time. With that experience, my inhibitions about laughing by myself went out the window. You may say that the solution to my problem was to find friends with which to go to the movies, I chose to teach myself to laugh on my own. So I'm a touch anti-social. Moving on...

There are also movies where I am glad to see them alone. There is less distraction when the seats on either side of you are empty. You are able to feel isolated. When you lose yourself in the story, you needn't worry about leaving someone behind. A movie with a more profound story, I like to be alone with my thoughts. I want to let all of it soak in.

And you cannot deny the convenience factor of a dateless movie. I have no plans tonight. I want to see a movie. I pick out a movie. I pick out a time. The spontaneity is a luxury of which I take full advantage (even if it angers someone...).

It really isn't as bad as some people make it out to be. You might not feel comfortable walking into a romantic comedy...date movie...ok fine, chick flick on your own. That might not be baby steps towards being able to go to the movies solo.

Try it. You never know. You might like it.

I'll be your best kept secret and your biggest mistake.

He who climbs a ladder must begin at the first step.

...he had discovered, as many others had before him, that only the first cussword is really hard; after that, there's nothing quite like them for relieving one's feelings.

I have lived with it and not said a word. I have stood idly by and held my tongue. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe if I ignored it, it would go away. Or even that someone else would come forward. It may be my guilt for not stepping up to the plate before, or perhaps I just can't take it anymore. I have lived with this bottled up inside for so long. I need to say something. And the time is now.

There is a lot of emotion swirling around in my head surrounding this topic. If my thoughts come out too sporadically, I apologize in advance. For you see, I have these flashbacks. There are images burnt into my mind that I am not sure, even with therapy, could ever go away.

There is a place you go, where you are not alone. People are watching. Whether they want to admit it or not, their eyes fall upon you. You need to be mindful of that. You need to always respect the fact that though not everyone can get to where you are, enough people can. They...we...have feelings, too. Please keep that in mind.

I don't mean to single you out. You may not think it's fair. It may even be considered discrimination for me to make one post about no one else but naked old men in the locker room at the gym. If that is the case, let the consequences be what they may.

If you are walking from the shower to your locker, I can deal with that. You're in the men's locker room. It is relatively acceptable for you to walk your bare wrinkled old man body around when you have reason to be au natural. What I cannot take anymore is the other things you do.

You sit on the bench. Naked. With no towel underneath you. Sure, in 15 minutes no one will ever know. You'll be dressed and on your way home by then. But for a few minutes after you get up, you've left your mark. There it is. The pressed ham. Maybe we can plead with the gym to not use such a shiny finish on the benches. Then perhaps we won't see the autograph your butt has signed in steam for the world to see.

You stand at the mirror. Shaving. Naked. Really naked. It gets even worse when you lean up against the counter to get a closer look at your whiskers.

Dude...

I was debating whether or not to share this one with you. In the end I thought it was best. You should know. You have the right to know. My disclaimer here is that I take no responsibility for any infliction of emotional distress. If you have a weak stomach, stop reading. If you take heart medication or are a pregnant female, turn away now.

I went to the gym last week to play basketball. That is the little exercise I get these days and I don't make it up there as often as I would like. If this is what I can expect, maybe I will have to take up inline skating...

After a few hours on the court (mostly breathing heavy and/or waiting for my turn to play) I shower at the gym. Not uncommon by any means. Have you ever had a pain that starts in your eyes and then scatters throughout your brain? Well I hadn't, not until I left the shower that day. On the day in question as I was walking from shower back to my locker I froze like a deer in headlights...

At the first bench there was an old man sitting. I see more out of the corner of my eye as I turn. At first I have an overwhelming feeling of exuberance flood my body. This man is sitting on his towel! You sir, are an example for others to follow. Good show. The feeling did not last. After that initial moment my eyes focus.

Here he sits. This old man. Naked. On his towel, sure. His leg is propped up on the locker and he is, I kid you not, oscillating a blow dryer between his legs. Maybe this man's grapes are insured by Lloyd's of London and are too delicate for the industry standard towel treatment. I don't want to have the conversation with you, sir, as to why your huevos rancheros are deserving of such pampered treatment. I just want you to not do that out in public.

I hate to imagine this as epidemic, but I am not so foolish as to think this happens only at my gym. Old men everywhere are rubbing their naked naughty parts on things. And we can do nothing but sit and watch while it goes on.

Wow that sounded gross.

Just please remember to be mindful of others around you. You are not alone. We can see you. And nobody wants to do that.

Louis XIV hit the charts running with their single "Finding Out True Love is Blind." The band's sound is one that is not heard frequently on many, if any, radio stations these days. It is, however, one from days past. Louis XIV has, in the minds of many, signified the resurrection of Glam Rock. That may excite you, it may not.

From what little research I have done, of contemporary bands, Louis XIV has been compared mostly to The White Stripes and Hot Hot Heat, though each time the comparison is made then clarified with "though [Louis XIV is] not as good."

That may be true, but these guys from San Diego are certainly turning heads. If for nothing more than just to hear the lyrics, listen to this album. I will not say that the album is fantastic, nor will it have much staying power in my music rotation, but it is worth a listen. Give Louis XIV a chance.

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Johnny was a pool hustler, one of the best, until he discovered how his manager Joe had ruined his life. He left Joe in the hands of some heavy-duty drug dealers and split the scene. Now he's trying to go legit, save his relationship with his girlfriend Tara, and maybe even save his life.

Johnny's younger brother Danny is eager to follow in his footsteps -- eager enough to find himself deep in debt to Joe, who has returned with a new poolhall protege. When Danny robs a store to pay back Joe, it's time for his big brother to take his cue. The final game has a payoff that's bigger than money, bigger than life, bigger than either player can imagine. Because somewhere on the edge of the 8-ball waits a man's soul.

Think Rounders and The Color of Money. Though recommended, I kept my expectations relatively low. Had I been expecting a smash hit, I would have been let down. Since I wasn't, I was able to enjoy the movie.

The acting was...a little rough around the edges, but I do not think it was meant to earn nominations for any awards. The key was the suspense it built around the final showdown and the antics of Johnny's brother and his friends.

I hate to say that I thought we could expect a little more out of Chazz Palminteri, but how often do you get to see Rick Schroder hustle pool?

I wouldn't implore you to rush out and see this right away, but if someone has a copy and wants to watch it you needn't run and/or hide.

Hey, it has Christopher Walken, how bad could it be?
Don't answer that.

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Scientists begin to go missing. One who fears he is next tries to enlist the help of a reporter (Gwyneth Paltrow), but fearing the danger is too great he leaves her with little. In this futuristic 1930s (40s?) setting she decides to team up with ace fighter pilot Joe Sullivan (Jude Law) better known as the Sky Captain. With his help, and that of Joe's inventive sidekick (Giovanni Ribisi) they attempt to find out where the scientists are disappearing to and who is launching these disastrous attacks on cities around the world...using giant robots.

The movie was styled after sci-fi movies from days gone by. It was interesting to see how they made the movie look, but that was the movie's only redeeming factor. The creators gave the movie characteristics of science fiction films your father or even granfather would have watched. What they didn't give the movie were characteristics of a good movie. I don't feel all that badly telling you that I thought this movie was pretty awful.

You look at the cast and maybe just maybe the movie would be good. The acting was forced, the plot could not have been more predictable and the writing was weak. Jude Law was fine; my expectations of him are never high. Give me a casting veto in Hollywood and Gwyneth Paltrow would never get another job. My expectations for her are even lower than those for Law, though in this movie she still somehow managed to not meet them. And my saving grace, Mr. Ribisi. I thought for sure he was going to do what he does so well and thus make me forget the male and female leads, but he had too small of a part.

I am admittedly stubborn and that partly manifests itself through my unwillingness to turn off a movie when I am not enjoying it. This movie almost changed that. Within almost the first five minutes I had my first knee jerk reaction to turn it off. I suppressed the urge and finished the movie...maybe turning it off wouldn't have been such a bad idea.

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Miracle Max: Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world . . . except for a nice M.L.T., mutton lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean, and the tomatoes are ripe, they're so perky, I love that.

August 13, 2005.

On that Saturday, Richard and three close friends were body surfing in Manasquan, NJ. Richard was a strong, experienced swimmer, but on this day, he was unable to successfully pull up and out of a very powerful wave, which drove him headfirst into the bottom of the sea floor, breaking his neck.

His longtime friend, Scott, who was swimming nearby, saw him face down in the water and motionless. Knowing something was wrong; Scott quickly swam over to him and rolled him over. Richard then tried to explain that he couldn't move his body. His other friends swam over to help also and fought the pounding waves to get Richard to shore, which was no easy task.

He was taken to the trauma unit at Jersey Shore Medical Center. Richard received his first operation within six hours of the injury in order to stabilize his spine. The surgeon explained that Richard sustained a spinal cord injury to his C4 and C5 vertebrae. In fact, Richard's C5 vertebrae had been shattered. Two days later, Richard received his second surgery, which replaced his C5 by inserting a metal cage in his spinal cord to support the C4 and C6 vertebrae.

Richard was admitted to Kessler Rehabilitation Institute in West Orange, NJ four days following the second surgery. After only one week at Kessler, Richard was rushed to St. Barnabas Hospital in Livingston, NJ, because his oxygen level and pulse rate were dangerously low. He then battled serious respiratory issues including a collapsed right lung. Ever the fighter, Richard bounced back quickly and was re-admitted to Kessler the next week. He is still currently recovering at Kessler, where he receives physical and occupational therapy anywhere from four to six hours a day, six days a week.

Richard has strong shoulder, bicep and wrist movement. He is able to feed himself, brush his teeth, use a cell phone, and turn pages while reading a book, among other things. He has sensation everywhere in his body and remains optimistic that new pathways will be found in order to recover the rest of his mobility.

I met Rich in college. We've been friends since our Freshman year. I cannot say enough about who he is, but I will say a few things. He is truly the most good natured person I have ever met. Never too shy to entertain an entire room, he kept us in good spirits for our four years of school. Always there with a kind word, he's the kind of guy you would want to date your daughter. He has given so much to everyone he has met and never asked for a thing in return.

Tragic is the only word I can think to use to describe the accident at the beach this summer. My demons surrounding the lack of attempts I have made to contact him directly since the accident are my own, but he has had close friends by his side at all times and they have kept me apprised of his rehabilitation. I cannot and will not try to imagine how difficult this has been not only on Rich, but also his friends and family. I know how hard it has been for me so many miles away from New Jersey; each day wanting to ask someone how he is. I do not want to be a bother to anyone or pester them for information and I have actually hid behind that, using it more as an excuse than a reason. Thankfully another of Rich's friends has set up a website for everyone to watch Rich get better.

http://www.richardtravia.org/

Keep him in your thoughts, or prayers if you are so inclined. He's in mine. And Rich, I hope to see you soon, buddy.