…where they serve churrasco with arroz de coco,
C-O-C-O, coco.
He walked up to me and he asked me to vote,
I asked him his name and in a crooked voice he said Lula,
L-U-L-A, Lula.
La-la-la-la Lula.
…where they serve churrasco with arroz de coco,
C-O-C-O, coco.
He walked up to me and he asked me to vote,
I asked him his name and in a crooked voice he said Lula,
L-U-L-A, Lula.
La-la-la-la Lula.
NOT THAT MANHATTAN BULLSHIT pic.twitter.com/VUvWPLPCjR
— Colin Duffy (@TheRightDuff) February 8, 2018
That Manhattan bullshit. When I am made God Emperor over All Creation, the use of tomatoes or a tomato based broth in clam chowder will be outlawed. A first offense will land you in the stocks, and people will be encouraged to throw rotten tomatoes at you. A second offense will result in public execution by being force fed stuffies.
Hemmingway and Ruark have a new hunting partner.
Harry Selby passed away on Saturday at the age of 92.
I’ve touched briefly on Selby in the past, but more in the context of Ruark. So please indulge me:
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Without cellphones or evacuation helicopters, Mr. Selby had to be the doctor, mechanic, chauffeur, gin-rummy-and-drinking partner and universal guide, knowledgeable about mountain ranges, grassy plains, rivers, jungles, hunting laws, migratory patterns, and the Bushmen, Masai, Samburu, Dinka and Zulu tribes. He spoke three dialects of Swahili. And he improvised; if there was no firewood, he burned wildebeest dung.
He was no Gregory Peck, but had an easygoing personality that made for good company in the bush. He coped with emergencies, pulling a client clear of a stampede or a vehicle from a bog, treating snakebites or tracking a wounded lion in a thicket — his most dangerous game. He was left-handed, but his favorite gun was a right-handed .416 Rigby, which can knock down an onrushing bull elephant or Cape buffalo in a thundering instant.
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For 30 years, Mr. Selby ran company operations in Botswana, and guided hunters and photographers into leased concessions covering thousands of square miles in the Okavango Delta in the north and the vast Kalahari Desert in the south, home of the click-talking Bushmen. He cut tracks and built airfields in the wilderness.
In 1970, he established Botswana’s first lodge and camps for photographic safaris. He hired guides and a large support staff for what became a dominant safari business in Southern Africa. After Ker, Downey and Selby was bought by Safari South in 1978, he remained a director, and even after resigning in 1993 he continued to lead safaris privately until retiring in 2000.
Noted actor Bradford Dillman.
He was “Capt. McKay” in “The Enforcer” and “Captain Briggs” (not to be confused with Hal Holbrook’s “Lt. Briggs” in “Magnum Force”) in “Sudden Impact”. As we all know, Callahan went through captains like CNN goes through Russian conspiracy theories.
And finally, more of local interest: Hisako Tsuchiyama Roberts. Mrs. Roberts and her husband, Thurman, founded the Salt Lick barbecue restaurant in Driftwood, a little outside of Austin.
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She was 104.
Paul Bocuse, one of the great French chefs.
I don’t have my copy of Alice Let’s Eat in front of me, but I remember Trillin quoting Bocuse: “Without butter, without cream, there is no point to cooking.” Bocuse was 91.
Dorothy Malone, Texan and retired actress. She was in Douglas Sirk’s “Written on the Wind” (and won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress). She also played Constance McKenzie for four out of five seasons of the “Peyton Place” TV series. (She was written out after season four.)
Stansfield Turner, former CIA director.
Peter Mayle, author. I never read A Year in Provence but from the description it sounds a lot like a French version of Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House.
Yes, we know, we’re way late. It doesn’t have anything to do with something we’ll get to in a moment. It’s just been a matter of it being relatively cold here in the greater Austin metroplex. And like a giant lizard or some other cold-blooded animal, we’ve been curling up and conserving body heat. (We also fell into a time sink Tuesday night reading the archives of Damn Interesting. But that’s another story.)
But the cold spell is starting to break. After the jump, this week’s TMQ. Plus: viewer mail!
The headline tells you all you need to know, in this week’s TMQ…
We’ve got nothing clever to start off with this week. This is the kind of week that sucks all the clever out of our strategic clever reserves. Let’s just get into it.
After the jump, about 5,000 words of this week’s TMQ…
I didn’t feel much like blogging yesterday: what the hell was I going to say that everyone else wasn’t saying better? Plus, I was trying to dig myself out of a backlog at work most of the day, and then I had a doctor’s appointment (at least that went well) and then I went down to the cop shop to help with the CPA class (which had been moved from Tuesday)…
…so I really didn’t get a chance to blog Tom Petty, which was a good thing. First he was dead, then he wasn’t dead and the LAPD knew nothing, and now he’s really dead. What a mess.
I probably would have inserted a musical interlude or three, but really, you’ve heard them all.
John Coppolella out as general manager of the Braves in a “resignation”:
…after an investigation by Major League Baseball revealed serious rules violations in the international player market.
The Braves announced Coppolella’s resignation Monday, citing a “breach of Major League Baseball rules regarding the international player market.” Gordon Blakeley, a special assistant to the GM who was the team’s international scouting chief, also has resigned.
Longtime readers know of my interest in baking bread. I just found out about this: Modernist Bread. From those wonderful folks who brought you Microsoft Windows Modernist Cuisine: The Art and Science of Cooking.
Right up my alley? Perhaps. But not no damn $562.50 worth. Though I’m sure it is beautifully photographed, and if you have that kind of money, good for you. I’ll wait for it to show up at Half-Price Books.
Does anybody remember the Spaghetti Warehouse?
I only went to the one in Houston a handful of times. There used to be one in Austin that I went to more regularly, but it was downtown: parking was a complete word that rhymes with witch. And then they got rid of some of the menu items I loved, including the spaghetti with cheese sauce. Damn, I miss that. And I haven’t been able to find a copycat version online.
I did find a copycat spaghetti with garlic butter, which sounds good. Maybe if you threw some small mushrooms during the simmering process, you’d have a good replica of another of my favorite dishes. I may have to try that soon.
Not a Spaghetti Warehouse recipe, but I remember having this at the Old Spaghetti Factory in Boise (now closed) when I was there, and loving it. Might have to try that soon as well.
Edited to add: As long as we’re talking about pasta, the Olive Garden never ending pasta bowl is back. Not that I shill for Olive Garden (unlike the mass media, and which is why there are no links here) but this is mildly interesting: for $100, you can get a pass that lets you get “unlimited” servings for eight weeks.
For $200, you can get a pass that lets you get “unlimited” servings for eight weeks plus an eight day, seven night trip to Italy.
including:
Airfare
Ground transportation
Hotel
Meals
Daily activities
There’s got to be a catch here, but what? They can’t be looking for audiophiles that need blank cassette tapes. If I had to guess, I’d guess those $200 passes are extremely limited. Either that, or you’re flying in aircraft retired by Aeroflot and sleeping in a foxhole you dug yourself.
I had no idea Tillman Fertitta could command that kind of money. (Also: the Rockets are worth more than the Clippers? And $85 million to $2.2 billion over 24 years? That’s an APR of about 14.5%, if I ran the numbers right. Anyone want to check me? ETA: Actually, I think I left a “0” off when I was doing the calculation the first time: it looks more like a 26% APR. ETA again: No, I was right the first time. I haven’t had enough coffee this morning.)
Speaking of return on investment, here’s a stock tip from WCD: sell this one short.
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…
“Oh, man, you’re not writing about the APD crime lab again, are you?” Actually, I’m not: this time, it’s the New York City DNA lab.
I still really would like to read an “explain like I’m five” piece from someone who really knows DNA and DNA testing. On the one hand, nobody (myself included) wants innocent people to go to jail. On the other hand, it increasingly seems to me like a lot of these issues resolve around subtle and sometimes disputed interpretations of statistics and statistical data.
This also points up something that I keep thinking about, and deserves a longer essay: how do we, and how should we, validate scientific investigative techniques used in criminal prosecution? It isn’t just DNA: how did comparative bullet-lead analysis ever become accepted? Or bite-mark analysis?
And what do we currently think we know, that ain’t necessarily so? Is there statistical evidence that supports the use of drug dogs, or is it possible that this is a “Clever Hans” phenomena? Has anybody ever done a controlled study?
The great Cardinals scandal of 2015 was only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to high-tech sports cheating. (I know there’s a lot of biology and chemistry involved, but for some reason I don’t think of doping as “high-tech”.)
I’ve got a vague idea for a book series about a white hat computer security expert who specializes in investigating technological sports cheating: hacking other teams databases, abusing smart watches, maybe drone surveillance of practices, tapping into sideline radio communications…sort of a Myron Bolitar meets hacker riff. If anybody wants to take this idea, feel free.
This is ridiculous, and Costco should be ashamed.
Everybody knows that a beautiful bunch of ripe bananas hides the deadly black tarantula, not scorpions. Is this just cost-cutting on Costco’s part? Are scorpions cheaper than tarantulas?
(Sorry. I’m feeling a little punchy. You might even say me wanna go home.)
Fruitcake From Robert Scott Expedition Is ‘Almost’ Edible at 106 Years Old
“almost” edible. So pretty much the same as a regular fruitcake.
(Thank you. I’ll be here all week. Try your waitress and remember to tip the veal.)