Skip to main content

Carpe Donut

Dear Members and Constituents,
What do you call it when your sister is in tears because the only tool she has to search in the dark for her lost shawl is a bioluminescent sphere? You ready? It's a glow-ball find-a-shawl cry-Sis'. Yeah, I know, it's bad. Very bad.

On a slightly more serious note, had you looked at yesterday's Top 10 Google "Hot Trends" you would have found no trace of a global financial crisis. Sure, Mauritania is in trouble (two of the top ten trends focus on it) and there is a pet chain allegedly abusing puppies, however, the majority of the searches --six of them-- are for celebrities (the remaining trend, if you are counting, is for a movie called "Twilight"). You might argue searching for crisis-related topics is unnecessary due to the constant bombardment we receive from the media. You might also argue the more serious trends get buried deeper and cannot be uncovered with a cursory sampling. I, for one, think this mundane sampling of what people are searching for on the internet is an encouraging sign folks are continuing to live their everyday lives. Curiosity about a porn star lawsuit or what prince Andrew is packing (I could not have made these two up) continues to motivate people to search the web.

The sun rose again today. There are donuts at my desk again today. Amanda Tierney (our donut girl) celebrates her birthday again today. And it's comforting to know that if you look at the Google Top 10 Hot Trends again today, while the list bears no resemblance to yesterday's (some three weather-related searches, three mass media stations, three historic characters and a different porn starlet), one common theme is still no crisis-related searches in the top 10.

"Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero" -- Horace
(Pluck the day, minimizing your reliance on the future)

Happy Friday!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Happy New Year!

  Friends, Happy new year (and, technically, still Friday). As many of you know, my household has a peculiar way of ringing-in the new year. We build effigies representing the old year and burn them at midnight. This year, although we made the tough call of canceling the accompanying annual party, I felt it was important to go ahead with the burning. The theme, of course, was CoVid. My kids and I developed a dozen mutations of the virus and staged them in our backyard. Then, at a quarter ‘till midnight, we proceeded to read the old year’s last will and testament (or, as might be expected for a year like this, an un-will and un-testament). Shortly thereafter they were summarily burned. We then proceeded to stay up way past my bedtime (which in part helps explain the unusual tardiness of my weekly note). In any event a couple of donuts and a day of rest have got me back to my old self. By the way, I’ve posted a public video of the Facebook live stream event on Facebook. Key markers on

THE Oasis

Friends, The book  Ready Player One  sent me down memory lane this week. The journey was not triggered by the author’s excessive references to the 1980s, which border on obsessive. Rather, it was the name of the massive virtual reality simulation used by characters in this dystopian future to escape their grim surroundings: The OASIS. You see, that was also the name of my grandfather’s country estate, the setting where a disproportionate share of my treasured childhood memories were created.  La Quinta Oasis was a bucolic old whitewashed house with a massive stone staircase, three foot thick adobe walls and wooden window shutters that, when closed at night, would submerge the residence in pitch darkness. With no running water, electricity, phone or indoor plumbing, the only modern convenience was the battery transistor radio on which my uncles would listen to “Chucho el Roto”, a radio soap opera. The Spanish fighting roosters crowed long before sunrise, making it difficult to fall back

Accidental Culinary Innovations

Friends, Have you ever inadvertently fermented spaghetti sauce? Yeah, me neither… until yesterday, that is! Imagine my surprise when the half-full bottle, sitting in the fridge from time immemorial, made a sound akin to opening a beer bottle, instantly filling the glass container with a hazy smoke. As the carbonation dissipated, I grabbed a spoon to conduct the obligatory taste test. How was it? I’m glad you asked! Let’s just say chunky carbonated tomato beer is not my thing (although I must admit that if I had been expecting it, my reaction might have been a little more… composed). Now, if you forgo the fermentation and switch the tomato paste with spicy salsa… that might be the next million dollar idea! Sparkling sriracha anyone? How about Carbonated Cholula?   Bubbly Habanero? Fizzy JalapeƱo?? I could go on, but I have a feeling Gassy Guac might not fly off the shelves. Now, if only I could stumble on a way to improve donuts. Carbonated Jelly filling… yeah, maybe not. I think I’ll