Sundays have become the day when I get high on caffeine. I begin the day by making coffee that uses half-caffeinated grounds and half-decaffeinated. It amazes me that such a simple thing can make a big difference in my ability to cope with the day. By drinking the half and half, I am stimulated to keep from falling asleep in the middle of a sentence all day.
I gave up drinking caffeinated beverages because my heart was racing for much of the day, and I could sense it. The sensation made me aware that it might not suit my heart health. I went from whole caffeinated coffee to decaf in one day, cold turkey. That is when I began to fall asleep in the middle of the day. Often, the computer alarmed me with a chatter that wouldn’t stop, and when I looked up at the screen, it was filled with a line of k’s kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.
After months of seeing lines of repeat letters in the middle of my posts, I decided to try an experiment. Why not reward my self by enjoying a cup of half-half coffee on Sunday morning with breakfast? Well, it works. From that realization on, I look forward to Sunday morning coffee.
This morning was different for me. For once, Lovely was up by nine o’clock and ready. to go. I finished my bowl of Cheerios, and we were off to Darien, about forty minutes away. She had an appointment with a Paralegal who helped her submit a document to the government of Lithuania. The document states that she is still alive, living in a foreign country, and she still needs her pension.
On the way home, we stopped at a delicatessen called Old Vilnius. We cannot ever pass by a foreign delicatessen. Lovely shops for her dark rye bread, which she swears is only available in this store, and some other European foods, which she swears are superior to the same item made in America. Believing that European butter is better than American butter is hard, but I play the game to keep the peace. While she shopped for her goodies, I shopped for mine. I found two items, which I put into our basket. We have had a long-standing argument about what vodka is made from, and I always lose because Americans don’t know about European liquor. I found a bottle of potato vodka that went into my basket. In the cooler section, I found some slab bacon cured in salt. My parents made this delicacy at home when I was a kid, and I often sat with my dad when he had his after-work snack, and we enjoyed pieces of salt-cured bacon fat on pieces of heavy rye bread. It is delicious.
Once we left the deli a hundred dollars poorer but with a hundred dollars worth of delicious junk food, we happened upon the Frankfort Farmer’s Market. Although it was a chilly 50 degrees with a wind to make it even more refreshing, we stopped. We found some fresh organic garlic. At that booth, they also featured smoked garlic, which I had never had before, so I bought smoked garlic, Lovely bought regular garlic to make her pickled cucumbers. The young lady who waited on us was from Wisconsin, and I discussed how to plant and grow garlic with her. I learned a lot. She then sold me a loaf of freshly baked garlic rye bread.
At the next booth, I bought a couple of ears of sweet corn and a single Hungarian banana pepper. The wind chill affected Lovely’s attitude, so we made a beeline for the car. Except, I stopped at a booth selling apples, blueberries, and a few vegetables. I made the fatal mistake of asking where the man in the booth was from. It turns out he, lived within two miles of our family farm in Covert, Michigan. I’ve never found anyone who knows that Covert actually exists, much less to be your neighbor. We talked about the chilly weather, and he told me that last night in Covert, they had sleet. Sleet, for the uninformed, is frozen water falling from the heavens. Talking about frozen water was the final nail in our Farmer’s Market coffin, and we then did high tail it to the car.
Once back home and warmed up, I had to try my purchases. I made a small plate of garlic rye bread topped with chunks of salt pork, and a shot of potato vodka on the side. It was delicious and reminded me of sitting next to Dad while he cut the bread and the pork into little chunks for us to eat. Dad never drank vodka with his snacks, and come to think of it, he didn’t drink vodka at all. The next generation always has to add a new dimension to the story.
A friend of mine just wrote in his blog that BIDEN’S Climate Czar John Kerry is proposing to reduce greenhouse gas emission by taxing cow farts. This is about as effective as using an eyedropper to purify the oceans. Back in 2009, Obama proposed a special tax be placed on all cattle as a way to reduce methane gasses being emitted by cows. Where in the world do these guys come up with these ideas? What John Kerry has omitted to tell us is that modern dairy farms capture cow produced methane to power their milking barns. If anything is an example of going green that is a big one. Leave the problem to the American entrepreneur and he will find a profitable way to solve it, as did the dairy farmers. The Left doesn’t believe in entrepreneurship. They only believe in inventing new ways to destroy capitalism.
I believe that when someone proves to me that John Kerry abstains from beef, and eats only bugs to get his protein then I too will consider giving up beef.
The test came to me when I questioned how I would get to work if I didn’t have a car? I researched all forms of public transportation available to me from my home in Alsip, IL to my place of work in Tinley Park, IL. I found a way to do it by researching the bus schedules of two different companies: the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA), and PACE a suburban transportation system. Uber was still fifty years away from reality, and cab companies existed mainly in large population centers like Chicago, and the Metropolitan Train Authority (MTA) trains were inconveniently too far away from me. The distance between my village and that of my work place was 9.2 miles, and by personal car it took twenty minutes to commute on a bad day. I devised a plan and set a goal to ride the buses to work. I left the house at 5:00 a.m. and finally arrived at work at 10:00 a.m. I bummed a ride home at the end of the day. Another five hour commute was not in my schedule. I am only one out of millions of people who commute to work by car because it is the most convenient way to do it.
The infrastructure necessary to link suburban areas to central cities like Chicago and to link the hundreds of smaller towns surrounding the city will be exorbitant in cost, take hundreds of years to accomplish, and the result would be impractical. So, when the Greens write articles like the one referenced above they are either completely clueless to what happens in the real world or they envision that everyone has molecular-transporter capability to move themselves from place to place. If you are not familiar with molecular-transport search your archives for Star Trek an ancient TV show. I would be the first to buy a transporter if it ever comes available. Unfortunately, it may not be available until the year 3023.
The Greens have shown me that they are totally unable to think in terms of practicality. Not only will we not be able to get rid of cars within the next hundred years, but they will continue to be powered by fossil fuels. The scenario they envision is looking into the past not into the future.
I solved my personal green commuting dilemma by riding a bicycle to work. Riding the bike safely to and from work was possible only between the months of March through September. In those months there was enough daylight to been seen by drivers, the temperatures were still civilized, and the probability of snow and ice on the road was still minimal. Risking my life to live Green was not a priority. I commuted by bicycle only because it enabled me to double up on time by giving me exercise as well as locomotion to the job. I often imagined everyone in the Chicago area riding bicycles to work. The visions streaming through my mind saw thousands of riders using the interstate highway system within the city. In other words it looked a lot like images I saw coming from China of people riding bicycles. Again, this vision was not forward thinking, but rather retrograding. The pictures coming out of China today are more typical of photos of morning traffic in Los Angeles, i.e. six lanes of traffic all going in the same direction bumper-to-bumper, and most likely moving at seventy miles an hour.
The greens have convinced me over and over again that their vision can only be achieved by returning to the age of dinosaurs where people relied on their feet to move about, ate greens for energy, lived only in warm climates during daylight.
This morning I got up at 6:30 a.m. to an early start. Since it is Sunday, I went to 7:30 mass at Saint Anthony’s Church in Frankfort. After mass I usually hang around to talk to my old time buddies. This morning was no different. One of my friends Gene, asked me “what exciting thing have you done today?”
“I woke up,” was my response, but Gene really wanted to talk about the weather. We woke up to a snow this morning. It was what we call a “dusting.” That is snow that is so fine that it looks like dust on the planet. It is now noon and the snow is still falling but the flakes have grown to the size of quarters. The air is so still the flakes fall vertically to the ground. Since the ground temperature is above freezing the flakes melt immediately. Gene commented on how mild our winter has been. I reminded him of January’s past when in 1967 we had a very mild month, and then the snow hit the fan at the very end. It didn’t stop until Chicagoland was stopped, dead still. When twenty-seven inches of heavy snow land on you it brings everything to a stand still. That is all it took. A group of us began telling stories about how we were affected. Gene’s family ran a grocery store and he told about a butcher who carried a quarter of a cow for half a mile from his truck to the store. That is one big hunk of meat. That story began a new line from Al. His story was a “remember when” they used to deliver ice to houses, and the ice man would use an ice pick to chop a huge block of ice from the really big block of ice on the back his horse drawn carriage, and hoist it up to his shoulder to carry it into the house. Back then not many people owned refrigerators, so we all had ice boxes. Not to be outdone, I told about the guy who drove through the neighborhood, street by street hawking fruits and vegetables. My mom would streak out to buy beans, onions, fruits, etc. for cooking, and the table. Wally chimed in with the guy who cruised through the alley’s behind the houses in his horse drawn wagon calling out “rags and iron.” He was the original Green movement recycler, and made a living off of it.
Anyway, I guess I could answer that the most exciting thing that happened to me today since I woke up was to participate in a fifteen minute “can you top this” discussion about the good old days.
On my drive home I wondered if bringing those services back to the front door would be a viable business today? It didn’t take me long to determine that it wouldn’t because no one is home during the daytime anymore. The modern lady of the house now works, and is not always at home to take advantage of such a service. A little more thought and it occurred to me that the modern family would substitute the internet for the horse drawn wagon and the man. On-line grocery shopping with home delivery has become a real thing since COVID hit our towns. In fact the on-line grocery store carries a lot more than fruits and vegetables. Another difference between then and now is that families don’t cook things from scratch as when we were growing up. There are far too many convenience foods offered in frozen packages that merely require defrosting and heating.
