I just purchased Stacy's "Simply Naked" (nothing but sea salt) pita chips after about a three-month, unintentional hiatus. I switched jobs and am now working from home so my eating habits have completely changed, I've been thrown off of my routine, and... well, truthfully, the things are so damn addictive that I had to just step away from the organic aisle at the grocery store. Sure as the sun will rise, this bag of pita chips - having been opened today - will be gone by Saturday.
I am completely obsessed with Stacy's Pita Chips. These fabulously crisp, perfectly salted, non-greasy, twice-baked pita chips can be eaten with just about anything... traditional hummus, salsa, guacamole... a personal favorite of mine is to use them as a vessel for tuna salad. Skip the bread; scoop with pita chips. And of course, they're an excellent late-night "I need to put something in my stomach before I go to bed" snack after a night of drinking... not that I've ever done that.
And they come in many flavors: Parmesan garlic and herb, multi-grain, cinnamon sugar, italian harvest, garden medley, and - my favorite - simply naked, with nothing but sea salt.
If anyone was reading this blog, I'd ask: How do you enjoy your Stacy's pita chips? Any favorite flavors?
But no one is reading this blog... so this whole post is kind of like a message in a bottle, floating in the waves of the internet... maybe it will be washed ashore one day!
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
Baseball: Superstitions and Prophecies
My baseball buddies are Mets fans, and they are superstitious. During our company softball tournament they wear the same socks - granted, its only two days, but eww.
So to say that the NLCS was intense is an understatement.
We watched game 6 from a bar in DC. Howie paced the whole time, Erik did the Lee Mazilli rock, Jamie sat nervously on his barstool, and I stood the whole time, scoring the game (which I had done for all but Game 3 when I was out drunk at a bar). We chanted for Jose Reyes and Paul LoDuca when they came up to bat (two rounds of each of their signature chants). The Cardinals brought Braden Looper out of the bullpen to replace Chris Carpenter in the middle of the bottom of the 6th inning - I thought, "Oh, commercial - good time to go to the bathroom." WRONG. I got 5 steps away from the table and Erik yells, "NO YOU CAN'T GO TO THE BATHROOM DURING AN INNING! YOU HAVE TO HOLD IT!"
And all I could think was, "Damn - is that why we lost Game 2? Did I take a bathroom break at the wrong time?"
The Mets won Game 6. The group decided we would keep the karma and meet for Game 7, same time, same place.
A funny thing happened to me on Wednesday night. I had a dream - I walked into the makeup room of my news bureau and Tommy Lasorda was sitting in the chair. He said, "Make sure you watch the World Series."
Tommy is in those MLB commercials, convincing baseball fans who's teams didn't make the postseason that it's their duty, as baseball fans, to watch the World Series; that the games are for everyone, whether or not your team makes it.
Was this a prophecy from Tommy Lasorda in my dreams? And what did it mean? Did it mean that I would be like that Cubs fan sitting in the tree - devastated that my team didn't make the final round? Refusing to watch other teams battle it out? Or did it mean that my Mets were, indeed, headed for victory?
I wasn't sure. And I was so superstitious I couldn't tell my friends about it.
Game 7. I got to the bar at approximately the same time as I had for Game 6. PARKED in the same spot, walked the same route to the bar - crossing the streets at the same corners. I wore the same jeans and shoes (changed the rest of it). Even straightened my hair like it was the night before. I got to the bar and had the same buger (cheddar, medium well), ate the fries first like I had the night before, and left half of the bun on my plate. Drank the same Miller Lite (although, admittedly, more of it). We were missing Howie - he was up in NY. But I stood the whole time, pacing. Erik did his Mazilli rock.
Delgado blew a catch on an infield pop fly that would have closed the 1st inning, but they got away unscathed (it just LOOKED ugly). Oliver Perez threw a great game - six innings, one run, four hits and two walks. David Wright, who had struggled in the NLCS, had three hits and an RBI in the first inning to give the Mets the first run of the game. Unfortunately it was the only run of the game.
At the bar, tension building, beer flowing...I thought I was going to give myself an ulcer. That is, until the top of the 6th inning. One man out, Jim Edmonds on first. Scott Rolen comes up to bat and hits one deep into left field. Edmonds took off for third base. The ball went out of the park - and came back. Endy Chavez made a leaping catch, extending his arm over (and behind) the back wall to steal a ball that would have otherwise been a 2 run homer. After the incredible catch, he hurled the ball to Jose Reyes (who threw to Carlos Delgado) for a 7-6-3 out at first base. Edmonds couldn't get back in time. The advertisement on the wall where Endy made the catch read: "The Strength to be There". How apropo.
It was incredible. I relaxed, if only for a moment.
Top of the 9th. The Mets don't bring in Billy Wagner, they stick with Aaron Heilman. Heilman strikes out Edmonds but Rolen comes up to bat next and hits a single to left field. Catcher Yadier Molina comes up and gets a HUGE hit, WAY over the left field wall - there was no way Endy Chavez was pulling that one back. The Cards went up 3-1.
Mets at the plate - bottom of the order. Jose Valentin and Endy Chavez both get on base. We bring in Floyd to pinch hit and he strikes out. Reyes is next, fly out to center field. 2 out with 2 men on. Paul LoDuca at the plate - and he gets a WALK! A 2-out WALK to load the bases, people! The Mets had a CHANCE! With Carlos Beltran coming up to the plate.
Incase you weren't watching, Beltran hit a homerun in Game 1 to bring in the Mets ONLY 2 runs in that win. Beltran hit TWO homeruns in Game 4. And in Game 7, he struck out looking.
An amazing season comes to a disappointing end. I was heartbroken. Looks like Tommy Lasorda was telling me to watch the World Series, even though my team won't be there.
I might watch. But if I do, you can be damn sure I'll be rooting for DETROIT.
So to say that the NLCS was intense is an understatement.
We watched game 6 from a bar in DC. Howie paced the whole time, Erik did the Lee Mazilli rock, Jamie sat nervously on his barstool, and I stood the whole time, scoring the game (which I had done for all but Game 3 when I was out drunk at a bar). We chanted for Jose Reyes and Paul LoDuca when they came up to bat (two rounds of each of their signature chants). The Cardinals brought Braden Looper out of the bullpen to replace Chris Carpenter in the middle of the bottom of the 6th inning - I thought, "Oh, commercial - good time to go to the bathroom." WRONG. I got 5 steps away from the table and Erik yells, "NO YOU CAN'T GO TO THE BATHROOM DURING AN INNING! YOU HAVE TO HOLD IT!"
And all I could think was, "Damn - is that why we lost Game 2? Did I take a bathroom break at the wrong time?"
The Mets won Game 6. The group decided we would keep the karma and meet for Game 7, same time, same place.
A funny thing happened to me on Wednesday night. I had a dream - I walked into the makeup room of my news bureau and Tommy Lasorda was sitting in the chair. He said, "Make sure you watch the World Series."
Tommy is in those MLB commercials, convincing baseball fans who's teams didn't make the postseason that it's their duty, as baseball fans, to watch the World Series; that the games are for everyone, whether or not your team makes it.
Was this a prophecy from Tommy Lasorda in my dreams? And what did it mean? Did it mean that I would be like that Cubs fan sitting in the tree - devastated that my team didn't make the final round? Refusing to watch other teams battle it out? Or did it mean that my Mets were, indeed, headed for victory?
I wasn't sure. And I was so superstitious I couldn't tell my friends about it.
Game 7. I got to the bar at approximately the same time as I had for Game 6. PARKED in the same spot, walked the same route to the bar - crossing the streets at the same corners. I wore the same jeans and shoes (changed the rest of it). Even straightened my hair like it was the night before. I got to the bar and had the same buger (cheddar, medium well), ate the fries first like I had the night before, and left half of the bun on my plate. Drank the same Miller Lite (although, admittedly, more of it). We were missing Howie - he was up in NY. But I stood the whole time, pacing. Erik did his Mazilli rock.
Delgado blew a catch on an infield pop fly that would have closed the 1st inning, but they got away unscathed (it just LOOKED ugly). Oliver Perez threw a great game - six innings, one run, four hits and two walks. David Wright, who had struggled in the NLCS, had three hits and an RBI in the first inning to give the Mets the first run of the game. Unfortunately it was the only run of the game.
At the bar, tension building, beer flowing...I thought I was going to give myself an ulcer. That is, until the top of the 6th inning. One man out, Jim Edmonds on first. Scott Rolen comes up to bat and hits one deep into left field. Edmonds took off for third base. The ball went out of the park - and came back. Endy Chavez made a leaping catch, extending his arm over (and behind) the back wall to steal a ball that would have otherwise been a 2 run homer. After the incredible catch, he hurled the ball to Jose Reyes (who threw to Carlos Delgado) for a 7-6-3 out at first base. Edmonds couldn't get back in time. The advertisement on the wall where Endy made the catch read: "The Strength to be There". How apropo.
It was incredible. I relaxed, if only for a moment.
Top of the 9th. The Mets don't bring in Billy Wagner, they stick with Aaron Heilman. Heilman strikes out Edmonds but Rolen comes up to bat next and hits a single to left field. Catcher Yadier Molina comes up and gets a HUGE hit, WAY over the left field wall - there was no way Endy Chavez was pulling that one back. The Cards went up 3-1.
Mets at the plate - bottom of the order. Jose Valentin and Endy Chavez both get on base. We bring in Floyd to pinch hit and he strikes out. Reyes is next, fly out to center field. 2 out with 2 men on. Paul LoDuca at the plate - and he gets a WALK! A 2-out WALK to load the bases, people! The Mets had a CHANCE! With Carlos Beltran coming up to the plate.
Incase you weren't watching, Beltran hit a homerun in Game 1 to bring in the Mets ONLY 2 runs in that win. Beltran hit TWO homeruns in Game 4. And in Game 7, he struck out looking.
An amazing season comes to a disappointing end. I was heartbroken. Looks like Tommy Lasorda was telling me to watch the World Series, even though my team won't be there.
I might watch. But if I do, you can be damn sure I'll be rooting for DETROIT.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
What's in a name?
This blog has been a long time coming. Family and friends have encouraged me to write, and I've wanted to for a long time. The biggest hold up has always been: what do I name my blog?
A name is important. Parents look through books to figure out what to name their children; they keep it a secret, lest someone judge the name they've decided to give their child, or worse - steal the name! Some people don't believe in naming a baby until they see it for the first time. No offense, but most babies just look like...babies. I really don't think any baby "looks" like a Billy or Sarah. A name can brand a child for life. Will they be teased for their name? Does their name command respect? Will they be one of five kids in their grade with the same name?
Bands have names. Some try to be creative, while others don't even bother. Dave Matthews tells his audience on "Live at Luther College" that the song #41 was named as such because it's the 41st song they wrote. "Kind of like 'The Dave Matthews Band'", he jokes. Other bands, like "Better Than Ezra" told 'New Orleans Living' magazine that they don't tell anybody where their bands name came from, "It's our only gimmick."
So what the heck was I going to name my blog? What would my blog be about? How will the name of my blog define my blog? I wanted to be free to write about whatever I wanted to write about: music, sports, food, travel... LIFE. I'm getting divorced. I considered titling my blog, "In Repair" - because in a lot of ways, I am just that. But I didn't want THAT to DEFINE me. I don't EVER want that to define me.
I was headed to one of my favorite places in the world - New Orleans - when I realized that my blog would just be about me, the things I like/love/enjoy/dislike... I decided my blog would be the flower of me; blooming, blossoming, growing, changing - all of those. Cliche? Maybe. Tied down to one idea? Never - not me, and not my blog.
PS. I'm not sure who I'm writing this for... I'm not ready to promote this blog, so if you're reading this, you probably stumbled upon it at random. Or you're one of a few friends that I've considered telling about it. And, speaking of names - I need to give a shout to Garrett Dutton, who's stage name was the inspiration for my nickname, and therefore my blogger nom de plume.
A name is important. Parents look through books to figure out what to name their children; they keep it a secret, lest someone judge the name they've decided to give their child, or worse - steal the name! Some people don't believe in naming a baby until they see it for the first time. No offense, but most babies just look like...babies. I really don't think any baby "looks" like a Billy or Sarah. A name can brand a child for life. Will they be teased for their name? Does their name command respect? Will they be one of five kids in their grade with the same name?
Bands have names. Some try to be creative, while others don't even bother. Dave Matthews tells his audience on "Live at Luther College" that the song #41 was named as such because it's the 41st song they wrote. "Kind of like 'The Dave Matthews Band'", he jokes. Other bands, like "Better Than Ezra" told 'New Orleans Living' magazine that they don't tell anybody where their bands name came from, "It's our only gimmick."
So what the heck was I going to name my blog? What would my blog be about? How will the name of my blog define my blog? I wanted to be free to write about whatever I wanted to write about: music, sports, food, travel... LIFE. I'm getting divorced. I considered titling my blog, "In Repair" - because in a lot of ways, I am just that. But I didn't want THAT to DEFINE me. I don't EVER want that to define me.
I was headed to one of my favorite places in the world - New Orleans - when I realized that my blog would just be about me, the things I like/love/enjoy/dislike... I decided my blog would be the flower of me; blooming, blossoming, growing, changing - all of those. Cliche? Maybe. Tied down to one idea? Never - not me, and not my blog.
PS. I'm not sure who I'm writing this for... I'm not ready to promote this blog, so if you're reading this, you probably stumbled upon it at random. Or you're one of a few friends that I've considered telling about it. And, speaking of names - I need to give a shout to Garrett Dutton, who's stage name was the inspiration for my nickname, and therefore my blogger nom de plume.
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