Allium in the family

The produce section of our grocery store has useful descriptions printed on cards above each variety of edible vegetation. For instance, naval oranges are "seedless and easy to eat". Jalapeno peppers are "delicious in salsas", and mangoes are "sweet and pulpy."

Novice that I am in all matters vegetarian, these twitterish descriptions were quite helpful the other night as I ricocheted semi-stochastically from one plant product to the next, warily collecting the (mostly green) items on my shopping list prepared by the wife.

While I may be inexperienced in the ways of cabbages, onions, and serrano chili peppers, I am no stranger to the strange and wonderful bulbousness of garlic. I appreciate a good garlic naan (and hyperbolic vegetable characterization) as much as the next guy, but even I was dubious when I read the description: "can be used in any recipe".

Seems a bold claim: "any recipe". Garlic in salsa? Of course. Pizza sauce? Oh yeah. Fruit salad? Perhaps. Chili? Why not? Sure, garlic can be used in "any recipe" in the strictest sense of the description, but I'm betting 2-1 against this anti-vampiric being a welcome additive to Grandma's lemon fluff dessert or the wife's strawberry pie.

But, as Aunt Josephine was fond of repeating, "To each his[/her] own." Just don't kiss me after enjoying your garlic-spiked lemonade.

This little piggy had naan.

I have never been more proud to be an American.

Congratulations to Joey Chestnut, a true American Idol and model citizen, for his exemplary athletic performance this weekend. He outperformed long-time Japanese rival Takeru Kobayashi in an Independence Day classic. Chestnut is a living testament to how beating your body into submission, years of dedication and preparation, and family support (his mother helped him train) can enable a person to reach his or her dreams. He is a paragon of intestinal fortitude, a competitor nonpareil.

The skeptics said it couldn't be done, but yesterday, Joey Chestnut surpassed his own personal best, setting a new world (and likely galactic) record in the Super Bowl of competitive eating. The beast of feast consumed a mammoth 68 hot dogs (and buns) in 10 minutes to take the championship belt at Nathan's Famous Fourth of July International Hot Dog Eating Contest in Coney Island, New York.

A hero of mine, Chestnut inspires me to consume more than is believed possible, to perpetually strive to improve upon past dietary achievements. A few personal bests I aspire to beat: 70 Quaker Steak & Lube chicken wings in one sitting, 4 consecutive nights of India Oven chicken vindaloo (with cheese and garlic naan), eating main courses from every restaurant on the main drag in my hometown in the course of one New Year's Eve celebration (thanks, Dad!)...

I may be no Joey Chestnut, but I will never cease striving to be more like JC.

Come to Jesus.

Looks like she's finally found God.













Good for her.

Return of Russ

Land of Yajeev readers, I have been waiting a long time to be able say this: our voice has been heard. After abruptly euthanizing his blog, readers of this blog overwhelmingly (by a margin of 4-to-1) cried for Russ Parker's return to the internets. Return he has, and in marvelous form. He has broken his months-long silence with a handful of entries sure to delight!

He inspires me, and he's sure to please you. Please join me in welcoming back to the webisphere the inimitable Russ Parker.

Return of Russ

Turns out Obama was a decoy...

... and LeBron is the messiah we've been waiting for.



He may just dull the memories Mike so painfully etched into the collective psyche of Cavaliers fans two decades ago.

LeBron = Dragonslayer.

The Other White Meat Flu

The dreaded H1N1 virus has finally reached my fine town of Hartford, Connecticut. As a public service, I encourage fellow Connecticutians to avoid all superfluous human contact. If you find it absolutely necessary to interact with others, please take precaution.

Here are a few helpful tips:

• Hold your breath.
• Avoid excessive fistbumping and high fiving.
• Keep kosher.
  
• No wallowing.
  
• Do not share straws with strangers.
• Refrain from trough feeding.
  
• Keep your windows closed and air conditioners oriented toward the outdoors.
• Maintain a safe distance from all who oink maniacally, as I suspect this may be an early and too often undiagnosed indicator of swine flu infection.
• Keep it tuned to the Land of Yajeev, your voice of reason in uncertain times of public health crisis.

Click the thumbnail image for H1N1 virus at low magnification:



Click the thumbnail image for H1N1 virus at ultra-high magnification:

Be cool, Planet Earth.

In honor of Earth Day, the Land of Yajeev brings you this planet-friendly message.

By now, I am sure that all of my readers have succumbed to the brainwashing, er, well-reasoned arguments, of the liberal media elite and self-proclaimed scientific establishment about the imminent threat posed by global warming and the culpability of mankind in said threat.

To remedy this planetary malady, we have been encouraged to reduce our carbon footprints by reducing, reusing, recycling, and paying bottle deposits. Which we, as a species, have been doing for many years to little avail. Glaciers are still melting, water levels still rising, and the mercury still upticking.

To the end of finally reducing temperatures, I offer the following proposal. This summer, I exhort all of mankind in possession of window air conditioners to install their units facing outside and crank them up to their maximum capacity, blasting cold air into the great outdoors. For those fortunate enough to be chilled by central air, I recommend positioning fans facing open windows while running your air conditioners at their highest settings. This measure will require great sacrifice: we must be willing to endure squelchingly hot apartments and houses and swallow the enormous utility bills that will accompany the inconvenience.

For this effort to be successful, we must work together. One outward-facing AC will have little impact, but hundreds around the world pumping frigid air into the so-called environment may just forestall the cataclysmic, apocalyptic, nightmarish warming of the globe we've been so conditioned to fear. This should work--I am a scientist.

No trees or polar bears were harmed in the writing of this message.

You stay classy, San Diego

I am coming off the longest drought in yajeev postage since the inception of this blog, and for that, I sincerely apologize. My (blog) readers are on the losing end of long workdays, long commutes, and long hours writing grant applications. I am woefully behind on blog posts and even woefullier behind on returning phone calls. I can only hope that my application readers are as kind to me as my blog readers.

Thus far, I've applied for six grants. Unfortunately, one agency has already informed me that my application was "excellent" but unfundable (the non-"outstanding" need not apply). Another told me that I was on the cusp of fundability... and asked me to politely wait two more months while they deliberated.

Today, we're ending a one-week vacation in Ron Burgundy's home town, San Diego, California. I had hoped to have enough free time to repopulate my languishing blogsite with several delightful little posts. Unfortunately, this dream did not materialize, as I received an email from one potential research funder (the one which placed me on the cusp) informing me of a last-minute telephone interview to take place this upcoming Tuesday morning. Thus, I've spent my non fun-in-sun (or, more accurately, non marching-in-sun-through-zoos-and-state-parks-and-along-beaches-or-from-airports-to-hotels-instead-of-waiting-for-complimentary-shuttles) time boning up on the details of an application I wrote several months ago.

Don't give up on me, dear readers. I keep a running list of blog post titles, waiting for the time to flesh them out... Please stay tuned.

Josh

While I was preparing to move from Pittsburgh to Hartford last summer, unbeknownst to me, one of my best friends from early childhood passed away. I learned today that Josh, the boy who introduced me to The Legend of Zelda and invited me to play at his house when other kids in my class teased me mercilessly, died following an epileptic seizure and subsequent head trauma.

The (single) highlight of my athletic career came at Josh's hands. He was one of the strongest, most respected pitchers in Little League, and I one of the weakest, least regarded hitters (with a batting average hovering at .000). In the bottom of the final inning, Josh had all but wrapped up a no-hitter, when I came to bat. I swung at and missed (by a wide margin) the first two pitches. With a count of 0-and-2, I closed my eyes as he wound up for the third pitch (since keeping them open had brought me no success following the first two). Eyelids clenched, I swung and to everyone's surprise (especially mine), I had hit a line drive to an unsuspecting outfield and made it to first base before the ball. This story has long been the feather in the cap of a completely unillustrious personal sporting history... today, it falls flat.

Although I haven't seen him for over a dozen years, it is shocking and sobering when someone so vibrant, so healthy, so decent, so friendly slips away. He was 28.

The nitty gritties

Many thanks to all who have expressed concern in the wake of my car accident. I must admit that I was puzzled by Benjamin's remark in his comment to my last post. He wrote, "I agree with most people: I'm glad you're alive!!" Most people? As if to imply that there exists a (vocal?) minority who might not be so glad...

The insurance adjuster called to inform me that my car had indeed been declared a total loss. I visited my beloved 2008 Honda Civic at the body shop last week to say my final goodbyes, retrieve some CDs, my umbrella, and a lawn ornament that had been in the car since we moved, and turn over my spare key. I've included a few pictures from our emotional final encounter.

I was surprised to find my car sitting in the parking lot with the key in the trunk. While it's not much to look at, and the front passenger tire is a little flat, the engine still runs. An industrious, opportunistic thief could have 'er up and running in no time, I'm sure.

In any event, I recovered the chocolate bar. Should tide me over while I look for another car.