Marco Was a Big Help Today

Every now and then, my younger son, Marco, comes through when you least expect it. And when he does, it's a treat, because he's very focused.

    He came by yesterday to talk about a game he's designing and the challenges it presents. He talked about how he no longer looks at computer games the same way, instead of enjoying playing, he now sees the work that was done to make the game. For instance, one example that wasn't over my head, was that the computer always knows where your player is and will kill it every time--unless you build in a certain number of misses to give the human player a chance. "So it's up to me, the designer, to say that the robot can only hit the human once in four or five or ten times. Otherwise, the robot would always kill the character moved by the human," he said.

    When it was my turn to talk I complained about the house. We've lost shingles, the dogs have eaten through a couple of pipes so that gray water, which we run out of the kitchen sink into the back yard, not just sits under the house. And the dogs are under the house and muddy and I won't let them in wet, and with all the rain we've had on top of the pipes--they also tore the pipe from the washer and dryer that goes into the septic tank so that water just pools up--it's a flipping mess out there. Then the dogs uncovered the septic tank--dug down to it and somehow broke the top so that it's been filling with mud from the rain. And the rain has prevented mowing the lawn. Should I go on? I know other people have it one million times worse than me, but it still sucks to have paid off a house this week that's in such shambles. And it was overwhelming me, because there is all the regular work to keep a house going and the work to pay for everything that has to get done. So yeah, I was feeling sorry for myself. Even though I know most of the people in the world have it harder than me. So I was hating myself for being such a wimp as well.
    And it wasn't a lot of work to fix it. But with my leg and the open wounds, even covered, I can't go anywhere near septic water. 

    Marco to the rescue. Yesterday, after we talked, he said he'd come over today to help. And he did. I told him first thing needed was to cut the grass in the near back yard, so that we could properly lay out new pipes for the gray water. That meant fixing the riding mower, which froze during the last several weeks of rain. He got that done while I cleaned up the near back yard of firework paper, things the new dogs had chewed to pieces--wood, sox, a couple of brushes, grill utensils, a couple of old hoses now filled with holes. Then I rode the thing and did the near back yard while Marco nailed a piece of commercial corrugated plastic over the 6 foot hole in the skirt of our house. Then he installed a new pipe section to the washer/dryer outlet and got that in place. By that time I'd gotten one of the three large far back yards (outside the inner fencing, but inside the outer fencing) cut. Then he laid the pipe in a ditch he dug--a 50-foot ditch just six inches deep to keep the new dogs from tearing it apart again--so that the gray water will now run out past the near back yard. On Monday I've hired people to clean out the septic tank. I bought a new lid. Once that's done, I think the plumbing around here will be back in working order.

    You know, I needed help on this one. I'm very glad Marco volunteered. He came ready to work and worked well. And my leg didn't get exposed to junk that could make it worse. I always love my sons and daughter, Madeleina. But sometimes they really, really come through, and then I love them the same, but add an extra dash of proud to it.

Fridge Cleaning Time

Well, after weeks of rainy days--almost Seattle like, down here bucolic Joshua, TX--I've run out of things to do in the house. Laundry? Done and redone. Vacuum? Done and redone and will get redone again if the damned border collies, playing in the mud under the house get in here again! Bathroom? Scrubbed and rescrubbed. What was left? Oh, yeah, the fridge. Did it last on the day I came home from Peru about 3 months ago. How bad could it be?
      Well, the sacred medicines were fine. Most of the cheeses were fine. But those five nearly-full containers of sour cream? They'd turned into a science experiment. That stick of butter I lost last month? Found it. Somehow worked its way into the organic strawberries I forgot about and the mold took over everything. And while I've been buying zucchini and yellow squash twice a week, turns out there were a few that were lost in the veggie drawers that were turning into a puddle of goop.
     Nothing appeared to have opened, yet there was some dried, sticky brown stuff on the back wall of the fridge--I mean, probably 4 ounces of sticky stuff, which probably came from a quart of something that someone spilled and decided not to tell me about.
     It's all clean now, and I've thrown out enough garbage to fill an entire kitchen bag. Who knew the jar of sauerkraut was empty, or that there were three open jars of dill pickle spears or 7 mustards in the back?
     So I'm taking a break, assessing it all, tossing what needs tossing, having a glass of wine to get through it, and I swear, just like I've done for the last 45 years since I've been on my own, that I'm never gonna let that fridge happen again. Only this time I mean it.

Money Oh's!, Money Woes!

Okay, so I'm not complaining about anything here. That's first off. But I am going to think out loud for a minute and for some reason, I think that might be of interest to some of you. Of course, I might be completely nuts and all of you break your computers once I start....please don't do that, just skip this blog piece.
    Why skip? Because this is about my personal finances, which no one might think is of any interest. I got it.
     Here's the deal. I now owe $2200 on my mortgage. It wasn't large to begin with, about $72,000, but now it's within reach to close it next month. After that, I'll be responsible for about $4000 a year in home insurance and local home taxes. Very doable.
     But I owe about $14,000 on 3 credit cards. Not a ton, but more than I would like. Some of it was picked up in small quantities--getting groceries when I had no cash, for instance--but most of it was picked up with some medical stuff, a couple of trips to Peru with guests where I lost a couple/few grand and had to cover it with credit cards. So no big deal, but finishing the house won't finish the debt.
     Then I owe Madeleina $2200 that I've borrowed since I began--and she as well--getting social security a couple of years ago. Again, no big deal, but I got to get it taken care of.
     Then I owe my son Italo $2000 for the Lincoln sports car that he owned, got wrecked, fixed and wanted to sell. I had to buy it because he was proud of the work he'd done in getting it all fixed. Still, there is a $2 grand note that needs to be paid.
     Then there is about $10,000 worth of work that needs to be done here at the house: New front fence, 200' long; new roof, new living room flooring; $1,000 to get my little green truck with 300,000 miles to pass inspection and give me another 5 years, and a host of small stuff that everybody who owns a home has to take care of routinely.
     So while I'm very glad that I might be out from under the mortgage--which has been getting a $600 additional monthly payment for a few years, which is why I'll be finished in 13 years and not 30--I will still need $18,000 to clear all debt, then another $10,000 to fix the house/grounds.  
     So I need to come up with about $30 grand.
     Guess I better start working harder/faster.
     That's all. Wasn't so bad, was it? Just listening to a dreamer...
Thanks,
Peter G

That Time of Year in Texas

Well, it's that time of year in Texas. We've had probably 20 days of rain in the last 25 days, making lawn mowing impossible but keeping the grasses--which will be brown in August after no rain in 50 days--growing wildly. We've had so much water the septic tank flood plain won't hardly accept any more, meaning we're running all water out of the house via hoses except the toilet, just to keep it at a functioning level. And it's also that time of year when every goddamned sip of coffee finds a new bug in my mouth. I just pulled out the cutest little thing--about 1/4 inch long, narrow. It wasn't in there when I poured the coffee two minutes ago, so it must have made its way in unnoticed while I put my sneakers on. But then there are moths, the crazy long-legged mosquitos that don't harm anyone so I don't kill them, lady bugs, small bees, fruit flies. Heck, have a glass of wine and you have enough fruit flies in it in two minutes to do a high school science fair experiment.
    Funny: I don't remember this in New York, and I don't remember anything this thick in Peru or even India.
    Just Texas. This time of year when the windows are open and the rain pours down.

July 2 Amazon Trip Coming Up Soon

Good morning, everybody. Just a reminder that I've got a few slots still open for my July 2-July11 Amazon Jungle Jaunt. Real jungle, dirt under your fingernails, lots of good medicine, including ayahuasca, Sapo, nu-nu and probably some local magic mushrooms--all offered at the right time, of course, and under the right guidance. And you don't have to take any of them. The trip is still a blast because we go night canoeing, swamp walking, high jungle medicine collecting, ride on fantastic riverboats overnight on the Amazon, collect wild foods, swim in a lake that's home to several families of pink river dolphins, bathe in the glorious Aucayacu. Trip cost: $1900. Does not include your airfare to Iquitos or back home, and does not include your walking around money--for presents for your friends and families--but does include everything else. We pick you up at the airport and drop you back off when it's time to leave. It's a very cool trip and only a few slots open because I keep the trips small at a maximum of 12 guests. To join, just send me an email at peterg9 at yahoo.com Do not forget that 9 at the end of the peterg, okay?
It's gonna be good.
Thanks for listening,
Peter G

A Column for Skunk I'm Working On

So this is raw and needs to be reworked, but I am pissed at the Texas State Legislature. So that's what column #86 for Skunk Magazine, the only mag that ever gave me a column, is going to start with. Here's what I'm thinking...

DRUG WAR FOLLIE #86

Rights? You ain’t got no stinking rights! Just ask Texas or the Feds: if they get away with what they’re trying, it’s gonna be more of a freaking mess than it already is.

Ah, Texas! You’re dry, mostly flat, largely desert, regularly attacked by monster hurricanes and gigantic, killing tornadoes, and you’re run by a handful of good old boy families that keep most of the money to themselves and then make most of the laws the rest of us live with. And the U.S. Congress isn’t much better, though it represents a considerably more beautiful land mass.

   Why mention Texas in a column? Because if you don’t live here you cannot imagine what the politicians propose. They want to make it illegal to video police officers beating or killing people. They are trying to revive a bill that would force women to look at pictures of their fetuses prior to abortions, forbid women to have abortions after 20 weeks, even if the woman’s life is in danger. Hell, a few of the pukes tried to pass a bill that would force a mother to carry a fetus to term even if it was declared dead. You see why I’m pissed off? I don’t have to love the democrats to hate the extreme republicans. And down here in Texas we have what’s called home rule. That means that any city or municipality with a population over 5,000 can make rules they like. It mostly applies to traffic speeds, whether or not you can have an old mobile home on your property, what local sales taxes will be. That sort of thing. Not always nice, but pretty regular stuff. But they’re on the brink of making a state law—which always supersedes local law—that cities and municipalities cannot make rules regarding gas drilling--a bane down here in natural-gas-rich Texas--that are considered unreasonable. What that means is that if a town votes to not allow gas wells within 1,000 feet of homes, hospitals or schools, and the state says 300 feet is reasonable, the local law will be abrogated. Towns that have banned hydraulic fracking of gas wells have already been put on notice that those bans are unreasonable. They want the gas, they’ll get it and the hell with what the local city wants. This is the same group that criminalizes truancy for kids as young as 12, and is demanding federal monies for schools with the right to use the money as they see fit rather than having it earmarked for schools. This is the same group that insists that Creationism be taught as history alongside—and as equally possible—as evolution, that the world is 6,000 years old, that Jesus rode dinosaurs, and that religion belongs in public schools.  The same group that listens to TransCanada say that the Keystone Pipeline will produce about 46 permanent jobs and then claims it will produce 250,000 jobs. This is the same group that is insisting that Jade Helm 15 is not a military exercise but a military operation that will imprison or kill several million Texans this summer.  Oh, and two bills that will kill anti-LGBT-discrimination laws are making their way through the Texas legislature as well. Ain’t these legislators special? As in ‘specially fucked humans’ of course.

     I’m a balancer. I’m here to balance the insane rhetoric of this group of politicians who know nothing with some sense and sensibility. But I am way fucking outnumbered here in Texas.

    And the Feds ain’t much better. A caucus of the U.S. House of Representatives just voted to make it a law that doctors who perform abortions should be arrested and face five years in jail, despite abortions being legal.

    Wake up and smell the shit, everybody. You’re probably facing similar repressive nonsense in Canada from people who call themselves Conservatives and who claim to want less government involvement in their lives. They are all lying through their teeth. I’m upset and I hope you motherfuckers know it. We need to say that roses are roses and shit is shit. And yes, you can video those cops who kill unarmed people who are already in cuffs.

A little earthquake at my house

So it was about 6 PM. I'd just come home from a meeting at the Fort Worth Weekly, shopped for dinner—double cut pork chops I'm gonna stuff with fresh veggies and fresh mozzarella and top with a nice au jus, then served with a good salad—and sat down at my desk to see what was what with the afternoon email. Suddenly the whole house shifted, like a wave went under it, pushing me first left, then right. I thought maybe one of the big dogs had jumped into the house through the front window behind me. No. So I called out to my daughter, Madeleina--who was sitting in the huge living room, a converted garage that has a cement flooring under the needs-to-be-replaced carpeting--"Honey? Did you feel anything?"

"Dad! What the freak was that? Everything shook. I thought the roof was gonna fall in!"

"That was an earthquake, darling."

"That was so cool!"

And it was. So long as the next one isn't stronger. And that was the first one we've had in the 13 years we've lived here in Joshua.

Single person, feeding themselves, little money

So someone I know is in dire straights. They want to know what to do for food as a single person with little money. Here's my initial response:
      Roasting a whole chicken costs about $5. That's four huge portions. Good basmati rice, about $6 for a five pound bag--enough to feed 40 people. So roast a whole chicken, cook rice, about 17th of the bag. Both will last for several days in the fridge. Mangos are going for $.50 each right now, so you can add a mango a day for half-a-buck. Lettuce, good romaine, is going for $1 a head and a head will last 3-4 days. Broccoli is about $1.60 a head and that will last 5 days for a single person. So for $8.50 you've got a main meal for 4-5 days. Add a quart of oil for a month, which comes to $.65 per week. Add salt and pepper: $.10 a week. Breakfast: Three eggs with toast: Eggs, free range, are $3.00 a dozen or less. Bread by the loaf, good quality, is $3. a loaf. Both of those are good for several days. Add organic yogurt, 6 ounces for lunch, at $4 a quart, and you're up to about $10 for four-five days. Large naval oranges are currently $.50 each. Add one. That's breakfast, lunch, dinner. Meat, eggs, fruit, veggies, yoghurt, salad. Dressing might bring you up to $10.50 for four days, or $75 a month. I can give you recipes that will make all of that fantastic, give you variation with beans and veggies and so forth. Money left over for inexpensive ice cream and a few apples a couple of times a week and you still come in at less than $20 a week. Substitute lentils for meat and wow! You're on your way. 

Step Up for Al Giordano and Narconews.com if You Can

Time to step up for a friend of mine. Dear all. My friend, Al Giordano, moved to Mexico in the late 1990s to watch the revolution in the south play out down there. He quickly wound up realizing that the key issues involved drugs/money/corruption. To lend his hand in getting the word out, he started Narconews.com, a website devoted to uncovering the drugs/money/corruption. With few resources, few helpers, he got the website up. And he got people like me to report on nefarious goings on in Peru when I had the Cold Beer Blues Bar there. I'd write; he'd print, and over the course of a couple of years we stopped at least three U.S. black-ops from happening; I got/he printed/Shoemaker took the proof photos of what really happened with the missionary plane shootdown in Peru. And Al brought a lot to the table himself: Enough that he was brought to court in New York in a landmark lawsuit that he won against a corrupt banking operation. Good Latin American drug war writers wrote incisive stories. He was the only English language site reporting on the goings on, not just in Mexico but throughout Latin America, the Islands, South America. He got Bill Conroy aboard and boy, did that reporter open some cans of worms. And then he started a School of Authentic Journalism, a once a year shot at bringing in young reporters/videographers to meet with experienced drug war journalists. And to make it available to those young journalists, he offered as many scholarships as he could. I was invited a couple of times as a teacher but since he'd given all his money to the students, there was no money to fly me down there, and since journalists are notoriously underpaid, I never attended. I regret it because I'd love to have that credential on my resumé.
    Over the years, Al's gotten by with the help of a donor or two who made ends meet. That means getting Al enough money to make his food--which, if you read his stuff on Facebook looks pretty darned good--keep a roof over his head, keep the narconews.com website running and pay for the annual School of Authentic Journalism.
    Well, this year he's stuck. He's a proud man who is asking for help who would not ask unless it was for a good cause. The school has produced a lot of good journalists who have not been co-opted by corporations, a lot of journalists who break stories nobody else has.
     So here's the deal. Go to the kickstarter campaign below and give him $5-$5000 bucks--yeah, most of you can only afford $5 but I had a moment of wishful thinking--and let's keep the school and narconews.com operating.
     And if it matters, when my leg was being eaten away by bacteria two years ago, Al found $1000 for me. All I had in the bank for him today was $20. Not a fair exchange at all, but proof that he's one of the good guys.
    Here's the donation site:
https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1652340249/the-2015-school-of-authentic-journalism

Oy vey! More food stuff!

Sunday Afternoon: Italo and Taylor Rain came over this morning and I took them out for tacos at a place in Godley, TX, (Del Norte Tacos) that's got such a name for itself that people drive from Fort Worth just to get them. It's really good. I mean, really good. About $4 a taco but each has 1/4 pound of meat that's been smoked over hickory and something else I can't put my finger on.
     We bought an extra two for Madeleina, then Italo took his daughter and me on a back road ride that was just glorious.
      Perfect morning. We returned to find Madeleina had re-cleaned the house we just cleaned yesterday, including her room--first time in months!--and the scented candles were on, the place smelled fantastically and all was good with the world. I went shopping early, thinking that since no one had called/written, we were eating alone. And since Madeleina brought up chicken cacciatore yesterday, I bought peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms and a chicken. Enough for six people.
     But Madeleina's friend Patrick--who worked with me yesterday--came over, so now were are three. Then Michael and Dian--whom we freaking adore--decided to come. Now we're five. Plenty of cacciatore for all.
    Then Chepa called. She's sick. She needs my lime-chicken. That's chicken breast breaded with breadcrumbs mixed with good parmesan cheese, sauteed.  Once it's sauteed on both sides for color, I squeeze lime juice, fresh, onto it, and sprinkle with more parmesan cheese. Then I bake it till done. It is my invention and spectacular. I cooked it restaurants as a special for years and probably sold out every night it appeared.
    But Chepa's new kids, Sierra and Alexa, don't like that. And the cacciatore will be too much. So I'm gonna make some drumsticks for them, then feed the rest to the dogs for dinner. Except the new pups, who are not great with bones yet, so I'll mix their food with some chicken livers I have and will cook.
    Okay, so we went from two to 8, and maybe 9 if Marco comes over or we send a plate back with Chepa for him--cause we love him--and I've got a feeling that Italo and Taylor might show up as well. Dinner for 11. Four separate meals, including dogs. Time to get to work, I guess. I've only got 1 hour and 20 minutes to get this done.
     I love living, and I love a bit of pressure. Gonna be great! You're in the neighborhood, stop by. We'll have plenty!

Still Doing Manly Deeds

Sometimes I feel so freaking old. My back hurts, my sciatica hurts, my fleshless right foreleg hurts. Damn. Can't walk for not breathing.
    And then I defy it all. Today that meant hiring one of Madeleina's friends, strapping young Patrick and asking him to help me finish the little fence around the back porch. I'd done three sections, about 16 feet, but the last section was 10 feet long and tough to keep square while I was holding the 90 pound weight and simultaneously measuring, hammering, leveling and so forth. So I offered $20 an hour for 3-4 hours and he showed up and within 45 minutes we were in sync. Fence section got done, then we moved onto the bigger yard fence and after an hour that was repaired. Then we moved on to painting the fence we built--plus the part I built alone--and then, while I washed the brushes, he swept and I cooked him a burger for lunch.
    Then I paid him $70 for 3 1/2 hours.
     He got more than that, of course. He learned how to handle a hammer from someone who hits nails straight and hard and buries them in three, four shots. He learned how to level a section of fence and clean a work area. He learned how to fix a larger fence. And I got a lot too: I was stalling on the last piece of fence because it was too ungainly to work with alone. So I got my work done. He got paid. Well.
     I think everybody's happy and a bunch of manly work got done around here. That's something.

I've never sued anyone, but I'm considering it...

I'm wondering about healthcare. I live in Texas, where former Gov. Perry refused to expand Medicaid. What that did was leave an enormous group of people--including my family--in a position where we make too much money for Medicaid, but not enough to get a subsidy for our insurance. Now, curse me if you like, call me lazy, tell me to get a better job or whatever, but we do fine. We eat great food, have enough cars to go around and so forth. We don't go out to dinner, don't buy many clothes, and our cars are 8-16 years old. So we do okay. But when I tried to sign up for the Affordable Care Act, we fell between "too much for Medicaid" and "Not enough for subsidies", what I've called The Rick Perry Donut-Hole. And there are several million people in it in Texas right now. To get good insurance--which means nearly zero deductible--I'd have to pay around $18,000 a year for the five people on my income tax return. If I earned another $8,000 I would qualify for a subsidy and pay about $300 a month, or $3600 a year for the same insurance. If I earned $8000 less, we'd all qualify for Medicaid. As it is, we are in that damned Perry Donut-Hole.
      So the question is this: Since Rick Perry, and our current Governor Greg Abbott have left the several million of us without the financial ability to buy insurance by not expanding Medicaid, could we collectively sue the state of Texas for imperiling our health? Yes, we have emergency rooms to use--and yes, I get checked and worked on in Peru when I'm there a couple of times a year--but Perry and now Abbott have left millions of us in a position where we cannot get screenings and checkups because they are unaffordable. That imperils us, because things like cancer are much more treatable if discovered early rather than in late stages.
     Maybe I'm nuts. But I'm already paying taxes for our emergency rooms and everything else, so why am I cut out of medical insurance, or better, why was Perry and why is Abbott allowed to put my family's health in a bad position when there was another alternative that could have easily been accessed--just accepting the federal dollars we already pay in to get our share of the subsidies coming out?
    Sounds like a darned good lawsuit if there's a good lawyer out there.

Push that Mortgage, Baby!!!

So here's the deal. I'm down to $3828 on my mortgage and had an idea. I called the bank that holds the mortgage with this question: "Right now, you've got about $1200 in escrow for this year. After May and June payments--assuming I can make them (please universe, let that happen)--you will have about $1800 in my escrow account. If I pay the principal down to just below what my escrow is, can that escrow be applied to my loan to finish paying it off?"
    The banker, speaking to me from Bangladesh, asked a supervisor and came back with a "Yes, you can be doing that. So long as your escrow is at least one dollar larger than what you owe, that will be fine."
    Which means if I can make two payments at the rate I've been paying, about $600 monthly in additional principal, I might just be free of the whole mortgage by June 1. Plus, turns out my home insurance has been pre-paid through the end of the year. I'll never get rid of the taxes and insurance, but I am starting to get excited about having this stone of a mortgage off my neck. That would be excellent!
    Oh, and since I had to see the doc about my leg this morning, I decided to get my shopping out of the way after the appointment. I wasn't really thinking I needed to cook much tonight, what with the fantastic meat loaf we've got left over, but then I saw sheep breast. It's a cut that looks suspiciously like ribs with a layer of fat left on them, but it is a cut I've never seen in a store before. And a 2.5 pound slab cost $4.91, so I couldn't really go wrong--except for killing the sheep, of course.
    I washed it and cut celery stalks to make a rack for the meat to sit on, then looked up cooking times: Appears to be about 2 hours at 300 degrees, then 20 minutes at 450 to brown the fat side. Cool. I've got a meeting this afternoon in Fort Worth and can put it in at maybe 280 degrees just before I leave and it should be near perfect by the time I return.
    For cooking, I sauteed garlic, onions, diced yellow and red peppers, and tomatoes in olive oil, then mixed that with sea salt, cracked black pepper, a bit of hot curry and some fantastic cumin. When it looked/tasted right, I rubbed both sides of the breast with it--sort of smearing the mix all over it--then put it on the celery stalk rack (celery as a bed to cook on keeps meat moist and lends a bit of a sweet flavor) and covered the baking dish with silver foil.
    It's ready to go whenever I leave. If it sucks, the dogs will have a great treat. If it's great, Madeleina and I will have a great treat. Somebody's gonna be happy. I see that as a win-win. Have a great meal tonight, everyone!

You just never know what's gonna happen for dinner around here...

You just never know what's gonna happen for dinner at the Gormans on a given night. I don't even know what's gonna happen.
    Today I took out the garbage--the second pick up truck full--from Italo's work on redoing my bathroom: Lots of old tiles, cut new tiles, floor boards and all that heavy stuff. Then I came back, fed four dogs, four cats, noticed that a beautiful finch is nesting in the hole in my porch overhang ceiling and that three or four hummingbirds are digging on the hummingbird food hanging from the porch while half-a-dozen new families of cardinals--or returning old friends, it's hard for me to say--are digging on the wild songbird food hanging from the front tree next to the kid's tree swing.
   Done admiring the birds, I spent time cleaning the bits of tile paste that were on the bathroom floor from the recent installation, made calls for a couple of stories, got in a heated Facebook argument about Sapo, the Matses frog sweat medicine, cleaned the kitchen, did some pushups and then it was time to go to the store. I needed Comet to finish the bathroom floor. Plus paper towels, new chalk for the girls, garbage bags, catfood, dog food, new bathmats for when I'm done the finish work in the bathroom, ibuprofin for my damned sciatica, lettuce, onions, tomatoes.
   When I got to the store, part of which was accompanied by a full-blast Van Morrison Into the Mystic, I realized I'd accounted for everyone but Madeleina and I. What the hell were we going to eat? I was broke, so steak was out of the question. We had beef ribs recently, so the short ribs in the fridge didn't tempt me. I made fresh burgers last night so they were out, shrimp was super highly priced and small, we had salmon a couple of nights ago with the beef ribs...Okay, I picked up a loaf of fresh Italian bread with sesame seeds thinking I'd make nice, hot, roast beef and pepperjack cheese--with seared red pepper--sandwiches. But on the way to the deli counter I overheard some kid complaining to his mom: "Meatloaf is just hamburger meat in a dish. I hate that..." and so I got inspired to make meatloaf.
    I already had left over ground chuck, eggs, red onion, garlic, yellow and red peppers, tomatoes, ketchup, scallions, celery, good breadcrumbs...all I really needed was ground pork. I'd rather make it with pork/veal/beef, but I can't do veal for the last 25 years or so because I think that it's cruel even beyond my sensibilities--and I accept a lot of pain from the food I'm gonna eat. So pork and beef. But I got so excited I forgot the damned chalk!
    Madeleina was nice enough to re-up the garlic in olive oil we keep on hand while I diced all the other veggies and put the meat on the stove to cook it just enough to eliminate 40 percent of the fat.
    While that strained I sauteed the garlic in olive oil, onions, celery, peppers, scallions. When they were near done I added the diced tomatoes. While that was going on I salt-and-peppered the meat, added bread crumbs, a little ketchup, and pulled a few eggs from the fridge.
    When the veggies were done I added them to the meat/breadcrumbs and when it cooled a bit I added the eggs, some Worstershire sauce, more black pepper--butcher ground--then mixed it by hand till everyone knew everyone and the mix was even, then dropped it all into a pyrex container, topped it with a little ketchup, three slices of bacon, and tossed it in the oven at 340. It should be done in another half hour. It's starting to smell nice.
    If anyone asks, I don't really know how we wound up with meatloaf, except for the kid who hates his mom's meatloaf mentioning it loudly at the store.
    Hey! I'm not so proud. I'll take inspiration where I can get it.
    And Madeleina can use the Italian bread with sesame seeds to make a salmon sandwich to take to school tomorrow. It's all working out.

Another Anti-Hunter Rap

So someone posted a photo of a huntress lying next to a giraffe she'd just killed. She's lying next to it's neck and smiling so much she's beaming. The photo brought her a lot of heat. She responded by saying that she and other hunters were playing a vital role in conservation--as if managing giraffes has been a problem we've been trying to deal with, eh?
   Well, some nicely intentioned person wrote on a blog that they didn't see the difference between killing chickens and pigs to killing lions, hippos, rhinos, giraffes, black and brown bears, wildebeast, zebra and so forth. I do see a difference. And trust me, I feel for every goddamned tomato I had pulled from its life on the vine and every radish who's heart I cut to pieces because I know they feel the death and don't like it anymore than we would. That said, here was my short response to the well-intentioned woman:
    Yes, we kill to eat. But no one except perhaps some indigenous, eat giraffes, or elephants and certainly no one eats big cats as a rule. And yes, if people raised those animals on exotic hunting farms, as they do, there would be less outrage. But to have someone pay money to have someone else locate your often-endangered, exotic game, then drive you into the best possible position from which to shoot it, then have you shoot it and take you to it for photos as if you have done something good or important, well, that's what the outrage is about. This is not even hunting. These hunters are not out there tracking prey with a chance they will become the hunted. (Except for that hunter killed by the elephant recently). I take people to the Amazon jungle and sometimes get offers from hunters for big money to take them on a safari where they can shoot a jaguar. I tell them I'll do it on condition that we mount a camera on the barrel and remove the firing pin, so that when you pull the trigger, you get a picture of the jaguar up close, rather than a dead jaguar. In nearly 30 years, no one has taken me up on the offer, an indication that the thrill isn't in getting dangerously close to a very dangerous animal, the thrill is only in the killing. And that's just wrong.

New Drug War Follies column in Skunk magazine

My new column for Skunk magazine. You know, I was very lucky to be asked to contribute to Skunk about 10 years ago. And I've run my column, Drug War Follies, in all but a couple of issues--I think I was late with it twice and then in the hospital once or twice and didn't write one. Today, the latest issue came and I got to see what I wrote about 6 weeks ago and I was happy with it. I was reading it and thinking, Gosh, I wish I wrote that!--and then of course, realized I did write that. Silly, but still a good rush to be happy with work well done. So here it is, and the whole issue is great because it covers the Women of the Cannabis Movement. And when the editor, John V, announced who he was going to cover, lots of us in the movement longer than him--and he's a well-seasoned pro now--reminded him of names some people have forgotten that he then included. So while nobody asked me to tell you to go buy the current issue of Skunk, with the key cover line being Women of Weed, I'm still going to tell you to do it. It's a good time to tip our hats to hundreds of women who have worked ferociously to end the drug war, to lessen the pain of the drug war, to inform a lot of us of illnesses that cannabis can help treat in a body-friendly way. These are women who put their lives and freedom on the line and they are fantastically brave and if I was a soldier and had the right, I would salute them all. As I'm not, I can only say a very respectful, Thank you. Thank you very much for your work, your sacrifice, your hearts. 
    Here's my new column:
Drug War Follies #84

Those irascible Repubs! That incredible DEA! Hell, we almost got a flippin’ lovefest going on here. Not!


By Peter Gorman


Well, well, well. We sat on our asses while the gerrymandering went on. We sat on our asses during the last election cycle. And now we’re gonna pay the price here in the U.S.A. for that. You people up in Canada have your own problems with insane Conservatives, I know, but when it comes to outright idiocy, I think my Congressmen and Senators from Texas alone have all of the nutty Canadian politicos beat. Batty John Cornyn? Can-Tex Teddy Cruz? Little Louie Gohmert? That’s a Texas-sized six-gallon hatful of fucking crazy right there.
    So in case anyone is not keeping score--and I know I’m getting off the drug war tact here for a few minutes but this is important, so pay freaking attention!--the Republicans maintained control of the House of Representatives and took control of the Senate recently. And emboldened by what they see as the will of the people of the U.S. after that victory, they lost no time in pushing through several bills that would not just set us back 100 years, but would have us fighting the Civil War all over again while they ate popcorn and applauded the bloodshed.
    Yeah, okay, so what did they do?
    Well, first thing was pass a bill allowing the Keystone Pipeline to proceed full speed ahead. Why? Because they’re freaking stupid, that’s why. For years everyone with a brain in their general vicinity has been noting that the Alberta Tar Sands won’t produce jobs, will not provide any petroleum products to the U.S., and TransCanada won’t even have to pay taxes on moving it through the States because it’s being shipped out of the international free port of Port Arthur. Nonetheless, top of the agenda: Push the Keystone through, with Crazy John Cornyn still insisting it will produce 250,000 jobs. John, take off the tinfoil, John. Lay it down easy there, boy. Don’t hurt yourself.
   Okay, we knew they were gonna pull that shit because it will make Obama veto it and then the Repubs can claim the president is obstructing jobs. Yeah, all 35-40 of them, mostly going to TransCanada execs--unless you count the thousands of jobs we’ll create to clean up tar sands spills--which can’t really be cleaned up. 
   Then they went after the Affordable Care Act again, lodging the 57th lawsuit intended to overturn Obamacare. For those who forget, among the provisions of the ACA are 1) insurance companies must use 80 percent of the funds they bring in for actual medical care, not for administrative costs; 2) insurance companies cannot turn people down for a pre-existing condition; 3) insurance companies cannot set limits on the money they spend for a person’s treatment; 4) kids up to 26 are kept on their parent’s insurance policies. 
    Those four items alone make it a fantastic law. Which is why the Repubs want to repeal it so badly. Just an ornery, dumb bunch.
    Then they’re about to shut down the Department of Homeland Security because they’ve tied funding our border patrol to quashing President Obama’s immigration policies--so he ain’t gonna be signing that any time soon. By the way, those immigration policies simply say that the U.S. deport criminals here illegally before they deport illegal parents of legal kids who got citizenship based on having been born here. 
    Then they’ve introduced legislation to ban abortion after 20 weeks, regardless of circumstances.
    They’ve said they will call for states to receive block grants for education from the federal government which they can utilize for anything at all--they don’t want education funds earmarked for education. Isn’t that special? How to balance a state budget on little Timmy’s back, 101.
    They’re planning even more nonsense: after having used the Senate filibuster a record 315 times during the first six years of Obama’s presidency to prevent bills coming up for a vote, they’re now suggesting they change the rules to prevent any filibusters by the Democrats.
   They’ve introduced a bill that would make it illegal for the president to create new national parks or national monuments--the standard way in which those parks and monuments have been created for more than 100 years. Hell, yeah, who needs more protected green space when we can use that land to strip mine for coal and copper after we’ve clear-cut the trees?
   They’re about to introduce legislation that will allow employers to not provide full time employees with health care.
   Bills are being introduced to provide more corporate tax cuts. They want to privatize social security. They plan on allowing corporations to cut their contributions to worker’s pension funds. They’ve introduced legislation cutting worker disability payments and food stamps. They’ve introduced legislation to further gut restrictions on banks and investment firms so that greed can run unbridled into the night.
   See where this is going? Straight to hell in a hand basket. Every goddamned decent social cause and safety net, trampled on. Who are these people? I know they say “pull yourself up by your own bootstraps” and all that, but a person cannot do that if they ain’t got boots. 
   I got issues with the president and the Democrats. They’re way too wishy-washy for me, way too centrist and not nearly bold enough or brave enough to push through real reforms that would transform the U.S. back into an innovative powerhouse. Hell, they can’t even get money to rebuild freaking infrastructure--which would not only save lives but produce millions of good jobs--so yeah, I got issues. But the guys on the other side of the fence--they really suck. They really like to inflict pain on the weak, the young, the old, the infirm, the powerless. Probably haven’t got a full-sized dick among them.
   Watch out below, because the U.S.A. is falling fast.

Ya know, I just can’t get over going to the DEA’s official website and going through their top stories now and then. I’ve said it before, but somehow I think their top stories are going to involve intercepting 10 tons of coke or a ton of heroin or 1 million oxycodone or something like that. I mean, we spend better than $3 billion a year on them and so I expect they’re going to do spectacular things. Now, personally, I want all drugs legalized, period. I do not want one more person losing freedom or property over drugs, drug dealing, for the rest of time. I want the private prisons closed, I want drug cops laid off, I want drug courts abolished. BUT, if you’re going to spend $3 billion on the DEA annually, you’d think their top stories would be pretty spectacular accounts of airplane chases, cigarette boat chases, warehouse busting, you know Miami Vice sort of stuff. But that’s just not how it is: On a recent Monday, the top national DEA stories, the ones they were touting to show what a great job they were doing included one story about two doctors in Detroit illegally prescribing oxycodone and Roxicodone to patients, then buying it back from them and selling it to street dealers. Another top story involved a deputy sheriff and her brother trying to sneak 36 pounds of weed across the Mexican border. A third involved an operation called Operation Safe Schools, which netted 19 small time dealers within 1,000 feet of schools and playgrounds in the South of Market district of San Francisco.
   Those are pretty small time busts. I mean, for $3 billion anyway. But at least there were no reports of wrong address killings or the like, so that’s good. But considering that tons and tons of cocaine are imported daily to the U.S. and Canada, and that probably a full ton of heroin comes in and tons of meth, well, either someone’s asleep at the wheel or the real dealers are very, very good at what they do. If we’d legalize, it would all go away. And the people who get in over their heads? We’ll we could give them maintenance drugs or offer them a free hospital bed with all the money we’d save. That’s the ticket and we all know it’s true. But embedded bureaucracy is tough to dislodge. One way to do it would have the President come out for ramping up the war on drugs 20 notches. The Repubs would immediately object and demand an end to the whole damned drug war.
It would all be funny if people weren’t dying and the prisons weren’t full.

Madeleina's 18th!

So yesterday, April 9, was my daughter Madeleina's 18th. Happy Birthday, baby! We made it! That was the promise, and I'll try to be around for another 10-20, but we got this far and that's fantastic. At the same time, she had a show last night, Leading Ladies, by Ludwig, a bawdy farce about people trying to get at a dying woman's money. Very well done. Madeleina was the old lady and she, like the rest of the cast, worked very well together and were splendid.
    After the show, Chepa, the babies Sierra and Alexa, and my grand daughter Taylor Rain came over for ice cream cake and birthday gifts and Italo, my oldest was here working on the bathroom and he stopped long enough to sing and at one point, when I thanked him for his work he stopped me in my tracks with: "Hey, Pops! You don't thank me. We're partners in this life and the next life!" And I rejoindered, "And probably in the last life too." I love my boys and nearly died when he said that. Can you imagine hearing it? Just beautiful.
    Of course, that didn't mean he swept up all the nails and bits of tile from the bathroom floor that my feet found at my 3 AM piss. No matter. Small price and a limited amount of blood to pay.
    So my daughter is 18. That's something. She's smart, beautiful, talented and can help me run a ceremony like a 300 year old shaman. I'm saying out loud that I'm very, very proud to be her dad this time around. I have not regretted one instant of being her dad, or dad to Italo and Marco--though there were times all three infuriated me. But I would not trade one moment of dadness for a billion bucks. And I feel the same about Sierra and Alexa, though they're not mine biologically. They're still part of the family and I love them beyond love.
    So in case you all were thinking that us Irish are cold as potatoes, I'm here to tell you, that's not always true.

The Mess, the Cleanup

I told you that my oldest, Italo, came over while I was food shopping--and the stuffed peppers turned out spectacularly, by the way--and tore my bathroom apart. Pulled the toilet, pulled the tub, tore up the tiled floor, pulled half the rotten flooring under the tile and half the wall on three sides of the tub/shower. Then he replaced the rotten flooring with new plywood. While he did that, Madeleina and I ate dinner. Italo didn't join: When he gets going, he's not stopping. Fortunately, I had a few beers someone brought over to keep him going.
    After dinner and a movie, I went to bed. He kept working and who knows when he went back home. All I know is there was a note on the bathroom door saying flush the toilet with the bucket--he'd replaced it for morning emergencies, thank you--and then added that he'd finish the job next year. Me? I got up at 5 AM knowing I had some calls to make but nothing on an emergency level, so I made coffee and settled in to read the newspapers on the internet. My jobs, other than cleaning up the kitchen from last night's dinner, and the living room where the two new dogs got into a couple of rolls of paper towel and left hundreds of bits of paper everywhere--along with a couple of ruined ping pong balls, one torn baseball and three ripped sox--was either to mow lawn or finish the back porch fence I've been redoing.
    The choice was overwhelming, so I went with the cleanup in the house, then sat back down at the computer. The lawn could wait because it looks like rain, I convinced myself.
    But then who shows up but Marco, my second, and he said Italo told him to come over to help with the bathroom. As Italo wasn't there, he said he'd start mowing some lawn. He did. I could not avoid joining the fray. So I raked and bagged the cuttings in the areas where the grass was really tall--under the bird feeder it was taller than two feet--then took over mowing. Marco got the direct front yard, so I hit on the side yard, a 40 X 40 stretch covered in fallen branches from the harsh winter winds. Then I hit the huge front lawn, about 40 X 110 and then here comes Marco with a second mower. He hit the fenced in part behind the house, a nice 50 X 80, then went after the huge space beyond the side lawn I'd done. Which meant I couldn't quit without looking like a sissy, so I hit a space between the creek behind the garage and office building.
    Thank god, he left for a while so I can relax, write and have a glass of wine. Next up, supermarket time, and then, I'm afraid, both Italo and Marco will be working on the bathroom, so I'm going to be forced to work on that back porch fence. I've got one section to put into place and another to rebuild--about 10 foot long, but I've got the wood all cut. After that, time to paint it all but that's almost fun.
   So things are a mess right now. There's crap and wood and tiles and old tubs everywhere. The lawn needs a serious raking and the fence needs finishing. But by the time we get it all built and cut and all that stuff, well, it's gonna look great. Only problem is: That's when the clean up starts. And as good and generous as my boys are, clean up is not in their vocabulary. Oh well, at least I won't have to worry about the tub falling through the floor when I'm showering. And the lawn looks absolutely fabulous, dahling.

Tuesday Night Dinner at the Gormans

Well, there I was, headed out of the house to go shopping for sides for dinner and to pick up some cat and dog food since our cat had kittens and a beautiful new dog has decided to join the three we have–he moved in a couple of weeks ago–probably because I serve the dogs fresh chicken legs. Anyway, I was thinking of the (probably) nuclear swordfish steaks that are in the fridge, or maybe the prime ribs someone brought over a couple of days ago. But I got to the store and whoa! There were gorgeous poblano peppers, just perfect for stuffing. So I changed course radically, picked up some good chuck, organic scallions, broccoli along with eight of the poblanos, just in case one or more of my grown kids shows up for dinner or my wife/ex-wife Chepa appears with her new babies Sierra and Alexa. It’s all perfect when they do, so I always make extra.
Now the way I make stuffed poblanos is this: In one pan cook the chopped meat, well seasoned with sea salt, cracked black pepper and chopped garlic (fresh!) in olive oil till it’s rendered half its fat. Transfer to a colander to eliminate the grease. At the same time I make good basmati rice–start with garlic in olive oil, add the water when the garlic is ready for it, add sea salt, bring to a boil, add the rice, bring to a boil, stir regularly, then cover with a plastic bag to seal it, put a lid on the pot and turn the heat to the very lowest possible. That can cook for 20-30 minutes but won’t be burned if you forget it for an hour, no sweat.
Then, in another pot, I boil salted water and put in small pieces of broccoli, cauliflower, zucchini, yellow squash, whatever I’ve got. Par boil a minute, drain, cool. In the next saute pan, put garlic in olive oil. Add diced onions, diced scallions and cook. When they’re ready, add diced tomatoes, the cooked veggies, and then the meat. Season with achiote. some white vinegar, cilantro. Add rice when ready, then finish with some really good, really sharp cheddar to keep things moist.
Now, in your 6th pan/pot, you’ve got to par boil those poblanos. So cut them half an inch from the top, clean the seeds out entirely, wash in hot water and put the peppers and the tops into boiling, lightly salted water. Just for three, five minutes. Then drain and cool. Then stuff them with the meat/rice/cheese mix, put a top on each and put them in a glass baking dish at about 330 degrees for maybe half an hour, or until the peppers are nicely done and the food is melting out of them but not yet burned.
Now you are gonna serve that with a really good salad. Two peppers a person. For the little ones who won’t like the smokey flavor of the peppers, serve them just some of the remaining mix or some of the chicken you made for the dogs.
Okay, so I ran through all of that in my head and came home to find my oldest son, Italo, had taken it on himself to tear my bathroom to pieces. I mean, he took out the toilet and shower, tore up the tiled floor and half the tiled wall. “It was old, pops. Time to chance it…” was his explanation. I was stunned: I was gone from the house for an hour buying dinner stuff and he tore the bathroom apart. Plus, he used my name at Home Depot to drop nearly $500 on my credit card. Yikes!
I got a feeling he’ll be here a while. Glad I planned on extra stuffed peppers.

World Speeding Up...

A friend of mine, my former editor at High Times for about 15 years, wrote on Facebook that he was upset that the attention spans of the youth have been reduced to the seconds it takes to tweet. I agree, and here's how I responded...
The Warhol 15 minutes of fame, the instant gratification, the byte of information have allowed a lot of people of all ages to forget to slow down, to forget that reading the book a few pages a day is a savory experience, as opposed to skimming or going to summaries and missing the joy of the pace in favor of the race. It's the going there that is the purpose; the getting there is the excuse for the going. I agree with you. I watch journalists who look up wiki notes and think they've done an investigation, while old school me is saying "Ten more calls. Ten more interviews. Someone I'll connect with will have something to say that I have not considered yet", and for me, while that's a pain, it's paid off always--when I worked for you, Steve, and since. In my other work, in the Amazon of Peru, I watch people arrive, do six or 10 ayahuasca ceremonies in a week or three and decide to open an ayahuasca retreat and serve people and I want to scream. They don't realize that they have no idea what they're doing and shouldn't be doing it. But when I tell them, they laugh and call me an old man, tell me the world is different now. The world is not different. A tulip still takes an hour or two to open daily and is worth watching now and then, despite it taking you away from your phone or Ipad or whatever. We're in the speed-up times, and it is only going to get worse: LSD takes several hours to change your life. For a lot of people, that's just way too long.