Remember the Donuts

Dear Members and Constituents

Visiting with my nearly ninety one year old grandmother, I’ve come to gain a better appreciation for memory. How we sometimes take it for granted and how even that can be taken away from us. I will admit it can be fun providing dramatically different reactions to the same anecdote, or having the opportunity for “do-overs” when answering the exact same question. And even though it’s sad to repeatedly tell my grandma how many children I have, their names and ages; you do what you can to enjoy the times together. Recently I’ve noticed an interesting pattern. On any given day, she may repeat an anecdote from her early life several times, however, from one day to the next the anecdote she repeats seems to change (and the previous day’s anecdote is often not mentioned). I think this insight reveals something deeper about our brains. I have come to believe our brains use “themes” as a means to prepare for conversation. Folks with better memories catch themselves doing this and avoid repeating the same anecdote to the same person (however, they do indulge in repeating the anecdote –often in the same words—to different people whenever possible). This copy-and-paste phenomenon is efficient and having the theme change over time means we lessen the risk of boring our audience. The theme remains top-of-mind for as long as it’s useful and is then replaced by another. The alternative, complete original thought all the time, is akin to building a road every time you need to get somewhere. It can be done, but it’s not practical. Revolving, “canned’ stories are way easier. Where was I? O yeah, did I tell you Rusty Corne (donut boy) has delivered four dozen LaMar’s donuts? (which include some veritable behemoths, you “specialty” donut fans are in luck). Don’t forget to come get one.

Happy Friday!

Comments

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 Jalapeño?? 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

Friday Donuts

Search This Blog