Wild Fire!

I visited San Diego this weekend. As you may have noticed, most of San Diego recently exploded in a fireball of fury. Fortunately the fire stopped just short of the unincorporated community of Rancho San Diego where my family lives. My sister and brother-in-law had to evacuate but then the winds shifted and they got to come back in time for my mom to return from Italy.

By the time I actually arrived my family was trying to de-evacuate which as you can imagine is much more time consuming. I took the opportunity to clean out my old room and donate the unwanted items to Goodwill. Hooray! I certainly hope they appreciate those National Geographics. My sister, who recently picked up the hobby of gaming coupons and rebates for free merchandise is donating bags and bags of drug-store items. Better than trying to get me to use it all. I mean, how much soap does one man need?

Seriously though, I appreciate the free soap, sis. Keep it coming.

I went to see Steel Canyon High school (pictured above) where people displaced by the fire were congregating. Bizarrely the fire stopped just across the street. You'd see this from the picture if my cell-phone camera didn't suck. You'll just have to take my word for it: San Diego hills are supposed to look dark brown - like highly flammable dried up plants - not black like burnt ones.

Also, my mom got me a new outfit while in Italy. Look forward to my fancy orange jacket. It is so orange it will blow your mind.

Scary Halloween costumes

Check out the most disturbing children's Halloween costume ever. Yes, that's right. Though sorority girls have long used Halloween as an excuse to dress up like sexy gangsters, sexy Sherlock Holms, and sexy pirate this is the first year I've seen prepackaged sexy costumes for what basically amount to 12 year-olds.

This is messed up. Look, I don't think you have to dress your children in Army of God PJs but I do think that girls shouldn't be showing off their bust lines until junior year of high school at least (note: this is a position I did not hold while actually in high school). Call it the Quinceañera rule if you want.

The odd thing about this issue is how much agreement there is across the political spectrum. Left-wing feminist types (like me) don't like it and conservative can't be fans. I guess it goes to show that these kinds of cultural decisions aren't made by the politically active. It's made by people who, you know, think their daughters will be popular if they dress up like fetish stars.

Barbecue

I was on-site with a client yesterday when I received a phone call from my brother-in-law. "Tom, if you had to save just one thing from your room (in your mom's house in San Diego) what would it be?" I didn't know how to answer but then I remembered that I had a bunch of papers from high-school in my closet. Also, Cracked magazines.

Well, it turns out my family has evacuated. Fortunately my mom's apartment has a vacancy so they're staying there and the winds are dying down so maybe the fires will be under control today.

Growing up in San Diego, I got used to fires and the Santa Ana winds. They make the air smell like barbecue for a few days. One of my fondest memories from my elementary school days was watching the wind pick up a sheet of newspaper and carry it up till it was too small to see - like a balloon. That, and the time managed to wrestle Roland Camacho to the ground in a game of keep-away. (The secret: Grab his head and toss him off balance when he's not looking). Yes, perhaps the Roland thing is a bit off-topic but it's still a cool story.

Update: Here's a bunch of photos of animals I caught recently on my phone:

My tiny feet

I got new shoes recently and found that I was not the size 10.5 that I thought I was. instead, the best fitting shoes are actually 9.5 (wide). Well. That is odd. Isn't it? I mean, I'm 6 feet tall.

That is all.

Shout out!

To all those who read me blog: I am not dead.

Vogler: Keep on keeping on.

Mr Strong: I haven't forgotten about you. Though your wayward children have forgotten about me! Grrr! Just kidding. I don't write to them, they don't write to me. Every once in a while I show up in San Diego and we reminisce. It's a simple system.

Everyone else: Holla.

How to cook a whole chicken

This week I decided to cook a whole chicken. I got it from the oddly not-at-all busy meat counter at the Wholefoods that just opened up around the corner. Contrast this to Berkeley Bowl, where you must fight to get served and your just as likely to lose some meat as get it.

Also, the guy at Wholefoods offered to cut the chicken in pieces.

I've learned that if you're going to roast a chicken it pays to brine it first. I've done this enough times that I felt comfortable "freestyling" it. That's right. I used seasoning salt and celery seeds.

Overnighting it in the fridge made sure to infuse all the garlicy, bay-leafy, peppercorny flavor and all that remained was too cook it on a bed of carrots and potatoes (to catch the drippings: I like to use every part of the chicken). Also, kosher salt.

A hour of baking cooked the chicken, but the skin was not done so I finished it off with a quick pan-grilling (on my grill-pan). Who can resist? Not me.

Not me.