Due to my bad memory I now have to write down the things that grind my gear-skiy, which grinds my gear-skiy even more. So lets just get to this month’s edition:

Any business with the words “granny” or “grandma” in the name should immediately be shut down by authorities for not passing the “stress test”. There is some mortgage company whose radio commercials start with the words “Kids? Granny!”. This is one granny I can’t wait to see dead.

People who list every ingredient in their meal adding the word “organic” to  it, something like “I got two slices of organic whole grain hand-ground bread, one half of an organic free-roaming hormone-less  chicken breast on top, with an organic home-grown tomato and topped it off with an organic, non-GM slow-mixed dressing”. Makes me wanna eat something with a good helping of fertilizer and die.

White people who accentuate their super-correct pronunciation of Spanish words and names. Something like “Viarrrragosssssssa“. Concentrate on the other 4 Spanish words you know: taco, burrrrrrrito, cerveza and “¡Yo quiero Taco Bell!“.

Have you ever walked into a grocery store to the smell you imagine to be the smell of hell, where the combination of fire, brimstone and sinners being fried produce a distinct unbearable stench? Then you have witnessed a food demonstrator who can’t cook. It’s hard to believe what one (old) person with an electric skillet can do to stink up a store the size of a football field. This doesn’t apply to food-sampling people at Costco who only demonstrate the foods with pleasantly delicious smells.

Have you seen these electronic billboards along the highway that seem to change every 30 seconds? Sometimes it takes me 3 days to get the whole ad; most of the time I catch the beginning, middle or the end of the display in random order, not that it matters – most of them are for either Dane or David Cook (I’ll have to drive by few more times to see which one for sure). By the way, if you paid for tickets to see Dane Cook, I don’t mind losing you as a reader.

People who put bible verse numbers on their license plates. Let me get my pocket reference bible out to find out which verse you are quoting – about the “eye for an eye” (EX 21:23-27) or about not eating pork (Leviticus 11:7-8). How about just sticking with generic state-issued numbers or something less cryptic like:

And now, since we are on the photo portion of this post, here are a few more:

If you visit The Pitch’s website, this picture is probably very familiar to you, it was their illustration to the article about people who overcame the rickets.

Lastly, I am a big fan of all things multitasking, like this new supplement which can help you eliminate two opposite conditions – constipation and diarrhea, not to mention urgency. To that I say: genius! Next in the pipeline: drugs that simultaneously cure baldness and excessive hair growth, reduce and increase appetite, and always popular supplement to treat insomnia and help you stay awake at the same time.

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Celebrity death week went worldwide when the most famous Russian folk singer and the namesake of an asteroid – Lyudmila Zykina died on July 1st, just weeks after her 80th birthday. Even when I was a kid, she seemed old, I was actually surprised that she was only 80, I thought she was eighty in 1976. It’s probably safe to say that there is no person who grew up in the USSR who doesn’t know who she was or couldn’t recognize her distinct voice. She was everywhere – concerts, radio, TV and at that time not exactly someone my generation wanted to listen to, but in a system with 3 TV channels and a few radio stations we got our share of her singing. Seems pretty good now, not so much when I was 10.

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXg5h_lzG_A

httpvh://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFHOO72GoMA

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Since the beginning of the school year my kid has spent a large part of her spare time participating in the First Robotics team. At first I was skeptical, since  I generally despise all after-school activities, clubs, girl- and boy-scouts and youth sports. But gradually, seeing my kid’s enthusiasm and her inexplicable desire to stay in school for 14 hours on some days, I thought that there may be something to this and it couldn’t be any worse than cheerleading. My work schedule and general laziness kept me from stopping by and checking on the progress of the robot the kids were building, but I had a chance to see an almost ready robot few days before it was shipped to Chicago for the upcoming regional completion.

This was one of the many times when I felt ancient. I thought about my technology-free childhood while staring in amazement at what the kids have built. I am pretty sure the first space station was launched with less processing power than this robot uses to shoot basketballs and drive around the obstacles, and that power is controlled by a group of 15-18- year old kids with joysticks. Many different skills are needed on the team  – from production, to electric design, to programming, to creative and technical writing, to safety, graphic design, team management and fundraising. Instructors and mentors practice hands-off  approach and let the kids take complete control.

These are the kids who will be this country’s answer to China and others who are rapidly moving ahead in the science and engineering fields. These are the kids who will take this country to the future, not you soccer and baseball-playing children, not competitive swimmers, and definitely not your cheerleaders, unless they are also doing this. Few people  remain baseball players into their adult life and even fewer find employment as cheerleaders. And while these activities are not without a benefit (whatever it is), they are completely irrelevant to the long-term future of this country, its position on the world technology stage, its prosperity and self-respect.

I had a chance to visit a First Robotics Regional which was conducted in Kansas City over the weekend. Several things there impressed me and managed to wipe out most of my usual cynicism. The sheer number of participants who traveled from 9 states to take part in the Regionals was beyond anything I expected going in. Most of the kids didn’t look like the characters from the the Revenge of The Nerds. The level of excitement rivaled any sport event. The level of creativity, both visual and technical was impressive. There was a large number of handicapped kids and not fake ones like they have on Glee. There were probably equal numbers of girls and boys. There were plenty of involved parents, mentoring, helping and cheering.

This wasn’t the first time my kid picked something the impressed me over my reservations and general whining. What I saw in the Arena made me feel good about the future.

Next year I might even write a fundraising letter or two.

Now for the visual part of this post. First, a short video to give you an idea of what the teams are trying to accomplish.

httpvh://youtu.be/nOXsdhZZSdM

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WARNING: This post is not kosher on any day of the year.

My imaginary friend Moxie Mama wants to celebrate her 1/4 Ukrainian heritage by eating what real Ukrainians eat. Well, that’s real simple and no cooking required to boot. Ukrainian National Food is salo which is non-rendered pork fat. There is nothing like a thick slice of salo with a piece of rye bread rubbed with garlic. The only thing better than regular salt-cured salo is smoked salo and just for saying that I expect a mob of angry quarter-Ukrainians attack me with pitch-forks (which is Ukrainian national weapon). Salo is usually salt-cured and can be kept outside of the fridge for a long time. Smoked salo doesn’t have the same shelf-life but it has tender buttery texture with a more delicate,slightly smokey taste and chewy skin if you are lucky to get it. (Sorry I had to run to the fridge and take a bite).

In Kansas City you can satisfy all of your salo-eating needs at the Russian Store, which coincidentally carries real-tasting rye bread. For an alternative for ethnically-challenged, head on over to Fritz’s Smoked Meats around 106th and State Line in Leawood, where I procured some smoked salo (ask for smoked bacon, they are Germans) just yesterday. The difference between this bacon and some crap in a vacuum packaging at the grocery store is that it doesn’t contain any unknown liquid (WTF is that anyway- formaldehyde or something?). Your friendly employee will slice it from a giant slab right in front of you. (Sorry I am off for another bite). DO NOT order it sliced thin, go with the medium or thick. I have a feeling that some synagogue is obtaining a restraining order against me as I type this. Well, if God didn’t want us to eat salo…, you know the rest.

Your next step is to obtain rye bread. American people between the coasts have been deprived of real bread and forced to eat who knows what, albeit sliced. We have to hunt the bread down. Baking it is not so hard, but generally you can’t go wrong with Farm-to-Market bread CO (Hen House on 135th and Metcalf bakes it fresh) or pick up a loaf at the Russian Store. There are few places like this one and others where you can obtain normal crusty bread.

You are all set. Get your favorite bottle of vodka from the fridge, peel yourself some garlic (rub it on the bread crust,see that’s why you needed the crust), pour yourself a shot and take a bite of your sandwich. Your Ukrainian Grandma would be proud.

After a shot or three, listen to this song. You’ll notice you can now understand the words.
Na Zdorov’e!

More Photos

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