Duncan's Blog

Schadenfreude noun

Pleasure derived by someone from another person's misfortune.

It seems like a counter-intuitive behavior. What rational person would admit to having such an un-xTian type of feeling? Yet, the word exists. Of course, the word is used in its original German and isn't translated. The word comes to mind when I think of Roseanne. I never liked her and I never watched ANY of her shows. My not watching her shows was a personal protest against vulgarism. Early on, I considered her to be a pig (and no, not because of the way she looks or speaks).
There have been other programs on television throughout the years that many people have loved, but that I have opted to shy from; Sopranos, Cybil, Will & Grace. I don't like television that promotes violence, has drunks or pill poppers who are wealthy, or that romanticizes criminal families. I do, however, make one exception to my list of things that I normally don't like in television content. That shoe is The Waltons. The reason it should have been on my banned list is the fact that it takes place during the Great Depression. The family was strong and very together.
The Roseanne debacle is of her own making. If she knew that she had the potential to be so out of control, she should have had editors to cover for her. I only feel sorry for the collateral damage that she has caused; the fact that other actors lost out on a program in which they were assigned work. Guess that will teach them a life lesson of what happens when you sign up with a loose cannon.

What do you bring to people who have everything? This is what I, a poor man, often ask when I am visiting those who seem to have infinitely more things of value. I have been told that the gift of something homemade is usually appreciated. So, during my adventure of packing for the road trip to San Francisco, I made sure to include two cups of homemade sourdough starter.

Bringing sourdough to San Francisco seemed somewhat amusing. San Francisco is not only the internationally famous the home of sourdough, it has bacteria that are named.

According to an NPR article from The Salt entitled : "Discovering the Science Secrets of Sourdough (You Can Help)"

' Some say a starter's microbial community changes — and so does its flavor— once you bring it to a
different environment. "There's no reason for people to go chasing special pedigrees," says Sandor Katz,
author of the Art of Fermentation. "It's going to be all about what you feed it and the technique of how
often you're feeding it." '

Since I am trying to knock off the pounds, I have all but given up making bread from scratch. I do however love me a good stack of pancakes. And there's nothing better to enrich a pile of flapjacks (IMHO) than a cup of sourdough starter. My Southern California creation picked up some good bacteria from home and I was glad to share it with my host. While I was in San Francisco, I made sure to add water and flour to the dough and let it sit outside with the lid off.

The starter has been sucking up the cold night's foggy air and I am certain that the sourdough has become enriched by the experience. The proof will be in the pancakes on tomorrows grill.

That's what love's all about!

As I'm writing this, the long-haired black cat (now about 6 years old) is on my lap. She's massaging my thigh with her two front paws as she purrs contentedly. I wonder why they do this (but not with enough wonder as to want to look it up or perform any research on the subject).
When I was a pre-teen, I was allergic to cats. Their hair would make my eyes swell up and turn red, I'd have an asthmatic attack, and--if the cat would scratch me--the scratch mark would swell up and itch. Major ugly! It was usually worse in the winter. I seem to have outgrown this affliction.
I live in an area that has a colony of feral cats. We don't do anything about them because they keep the mouse/rat population in check. My particular girl cat was whelped on the front porch. Her mother was quite bold. One day, when she was off looking for food, my housemate decided to take in the black kitty and her brother; a gray short-haired cat.
I named the male cat Grayson (since he was gray). The long-haired black cat was given the name Madison. When asked why, I said, " 'cause she's my Madison Avenue Pussy." It didn't go over too well, but that's what I call her.
I feel blessed to be able to raise an indoor/outdoor cat. She doesn't need a scratching post since she has tree trunks and branches. She gets to run and jump without hindrances. She has a place to sleep inside at night. And her food comes from Trader Joe's; kibble throughout the day and wet food at night.
The dog is a little jealous of her. He doesn't like seeing her get ANY attention. It's the closest I'll come to children!

On Thursday I left my shoulderbag at a meeting. I noticed it when I got home. I told the leader of the meeting. She told me that the meeting room would re-open on Sunday. Hmmm... Big deal, right? The shoulderbag had my checkbook, my cash, my credit cards, and my driver's license.
Today is Saturday, and I am at home sipping hot tea and making meatless borscht. Oh, and watching epis
odes of the original Hawaii Five-0 (the ones starring Jack Lord and James MacArthur). The island looks beautiful in those old episodes; so underdeveloped when compared to the remake new series. Of course, back then, the characters who were wearing suits to do police work also sprinkled in the local jargon of the era when talking to young radicals, rogues, or hipsters. That always seemed creepy to me; as if the police were talking down to the people.
Borscht is one of my favorite soups to make. It has beets, onions, cabbage, and carrots. A cup of that and some home made beans on a plate and I've got the most delicious meal that will stick to my ribs.
As I was peeling the root vegetables, I was getting ready to throw the unwanted skin and ends into the compost heap. But--in an instant of hippie recall--I decided instead to put it in a pot and boil it up in some distilled water. The outcome is home made vegetable stock.
In today's world, few people I know would think that saving bean water or the liquid from boiled vegetable skins as advantageous. I think of it as an inexpensive way of adding healthy vitamins back into the body and of enriching the flavor of the soups.
The tea is from Harney & Sons. I keep a cabinet filled with different flavors. Today it's Kenya.

Today I will be representing someone in a hearing. I had to perform this same task for the same person two weeks ago. I had to represent her with zeal and with heart-felt passion that a wrong needed to be righted. I did not feel any of this. The person I was representing was not owning up to the accusations made against her. I knew it and the supervisory powers that be knew it. Yet, I had to fight, fight, fight!
The only thing that swayed me towards the employee's side was the fact that her supervisor had referred to her as being unredeemable. It sounded as if she were banishing her to the eternal fires of hell. I thought the sound of the claim was a tad bit too high-and-mighty to my way of thinking.
I never wanted to have anything to do with law. I watch legal shows on television and--thankfully--I have never been called to serve on jury duty. I don't appreciate the adversarial positioning as this is off-putting and sometimes passionately vulgar.
Glad I wasn't forced to enter that line of work! I don't know how they do it day in and day out.
.....
We met with the opposition and--to my shock--it was a favorable outcome. The girl was given 3 online courses to take (each about an hour long). She got to keep her job. A SLAP ON THE WRIST. I was thrilled. As she was handed the paper, she was asked if she had any questions.
She went into a tirade about the original hearing and of the names she was called. She told the supervisor that if she is called the 'B-word' she is not going to be all happy and smiles. I wanted to die! She was supposed to be grateful and thankful and instead she was pretty much telling them that no remediation would change anything about her.
Then she said, "I don't feel comfortable." No one knew what she meant. Maybe she was going to say that she wanted to leave the job. She later went on to say how uncomfortable she felt knowing that at any moment she could be fired. WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF THE EMPLOYED PEOPLE WHO AREN'T SUPPOSED TO YELL AND SWEAR AT CLIENTS IN THE NAME OF GOOD CUSTOMER SERVICE.
I left her after that and hope I never have to see her face again!