Why A Tamale For The Finale?
Yesterday after church we were watching the finale of the current season of MasterChef, the cooking competition where home chefs -- people who excel in cooking at home for a select few -- are given the chance to compete for a $250,000 grand prize and their own cookbook, and that's just the beginning. One of the hosts/judges on that show in Gordon Ramsay, perhaps better known to viewing audiences (at least in the USA and to people who don't regularly EAT three to five course meals) for his ... colorful way around a kitchen and ... interesting motivational techniques to get his and his chefs' food pitch perfect.
It's hard to fault him; I mean, the Scottish-born restaurateur worked very hard to get where he is today. Today's title comes from what Gordon -- I think we can go first-name basis with him -- said to one of the two finalists who presented a particular tamale as an appetizer. He asked this question, then commercial break, then the chef responded that in all of her cooking she strives to reflect her Mexican heritage. (She won, by the way.) I still have problems with "heritage", but that's a story for another day. So much I heard this weekend from my kids and so much from Martha and I, but I did not take the trouble to write it down did I? I remember a rhyming line from a reality show.
A former girlfriend of mine has hit the half-century mark today. This was the last one before I met Martha (and by her account, she had no other boyfriends before meeting me), and she was, and I believe still is, a librarian in Alabama whom I also met online. And the reason for our breakup was way more my fault than I care to admit because at the time I didn't want and could not see myself as moving anywhere outside where I was in a two-room house in Crescent City, Florida. She came to see me twice and I didn't go there. It was more than my not having a car at the time ... it was my not having a grip on this whole "adult" thing.
Arguably, I still don't have that.
Over this weekend I've had my relationship with Southern gospel music (I grew up in Florida, so this is pretty much what you heard) rekindled since I couldn't get in the station I regularly listen to at work Friday. Most of the time it's just me in the office, so I pretty much get to choose what's on. I also got to finish Salem Kirban's 1973 novel 1000 (ISBN 091258209X), which is set in the Millennial Reign of Jesus Christ. Astonishing enough, even to a Christian, there IS still conflict after the Rapture, after the Tribulation -- I'm not trying to preach here, but relating the story without referring to mainstream Christian elements is well nigh impossible.
And after a phone call I just had ... ugh.
I SO want some of the date-setters I've been reading online to be right and this coming Wednesday is either the day of the Rapture or the day where all the dominoes are lined up in a row ranging from a blood moon to day 266 of the year when Pope Francis (the 266th pope, some sources point out) visits President Obama at the White House to the activation of the CERN reactor, pick a feature ... but I refuse to live like they are. Keep this in mind; Jesus did not say follow the flavor of the month, the event on the front page, or even the people who are acting in His name. He says, Follow Me.
It's hard to fault him; I mean, the Scottish-born restaurateur worked very hard to get where he is today. Today's title comes from what Gordon -- I think we can go first-name basis with him -- said to one of the two finalists who presented a particular tamale as an appetizer. He asked this question, then commercial break, then the chef responded that in all of her cooking she strives to reflect her Mexican heritage. (She won, by the way.) I still have problems with "heritage", but that's a story for another day. So much I heard this weekend from my kids and so much from Martha and I, but I did not take the trouble to write it down did I? I remember a rhyming line from a reality show.
A former girlfriend of mine has hit the half-century mark today. This was the last one before I met Martha (and by her account, she had no other boyfriends before meeting me), and she was, and I believe still is, a librarian in Alabama whom I also met online. And the reason for our breakup was way more my fault than I care to admit because at the time I didn't want and could not see myself as moving anywhere outside where I was in a two-room house in Crescent City, Florida. She came to see me twice and I didn't go there. It was more than my not having a car at the time ... it was my not having a grip on this whole "adult" thing.
Arguably, I still don't have that.
Over this weekend I've had my relationship with Southern gospel music (I grew up in Florida, so this is pretty much what you heard) rekindled since I couldn't get in the station I regularly listen to at work Friday. Most of the time it's just me in the office, so I pretty much get to choose what's on. I also got to finish Salem Kirban's 1973 novel 1000 (ISBN 091258209X), which is set in the Millennial Reign of Jesus Christ. Astonishing enough, even to a Christian, there IS still conflict after the Rapture, after the Tribulation -- I'm not trying to preach here, but relating the story without referring to mainstream Christian elements is well nigh impossible.
And after a phone call I just had ... ugh.
I SO want some of the date-setters I've been reading online to be right and this coming Wednesday is either the day of the Rapture or the day where all the dominoes are lined up in a row ranging from a blood moon to day 266 of the year when Pope Francis (the 266th pope, some sources point out) visits President Obama at the White House to the activation of the CERN reactor, pick a feature ... but I refuse to live like they are. Keep this in mind; Jesus did not say follow the flavor of the month, the event on the front page, or even the people who are acting in His name. He says, Follow Me.
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