Hobbies, Ice-Skating, and Stuff

At least once a week our kitchen table is transformed into a miniature warzone where the denizens of the 41st century settle their differences by attacking each other with guns and chainsaws. Warhammer 40k is one of my favorite games of all time. If you are friend or family, you've more than likely found me sitting on your couch painting and assembling warhammer models sometime in recent history. The pic here is from a game a few weeks ago: Ken's loyalist space marines squaring off against my traitor berserkers (the traitors are hiding behind cover in the mid-ground.) Also note the chaos dreadnought staggering around in the background looking for something to blow up.

I went ice-skating for the first time in my life today (technically yesterday. I'm up late). Some close family friends invited us to their son's birthday party at the Chiller, and we were happy to oblige. It was a lot like roller-blading, though with the added element of dodging children and other obstacles while endlessly circling the rink. To my credit I did not fall down, though we all wore furrows into the ice that kept tripping me up.

The experience made me nostalgic; I remembered my mom taking us to the skating rink at the Rutland Civic Center when we were kids. Mind you, this was back before the existence of roller-blades. I'm talking about these unwieldly things: clicky. You should remember these. They're a part of your past. Anyway, I remember some fantastic crashes at that civic center. Perhaps we should stop attaching extra bits to the bottoms of our shoes?

When I was in college, I was convinced by friends to take up rollerblading... the new, cooler version of roller-skating. Three of us bought some high quality rollerblades. These things were amazing, and we got what we paid for: sleek, fast death.

High quality rollerblades (clicky for picture) are synonymous with assisted suicide in the hands of noobs. I look back to the year 2003 and try to imagine how I was not outright killed in a rollerblading accident. At speed, it took only a tiny pebble to wipe me out. Rollerblade wrecks are the worst thing outside of car crashes. In 2004 I decided to hang up the skates. My dad and I got bikes instead. Our bike rides were a joy compared to the hell of rollerblading.

Apparently the correct term for rollerblading is inline skating. Rollerblade is a brand. Sort of like Q-tips for cotton swabs, or refering to adhesive bandages as Band-Aids. What did I do before there was wikipedia?

Oven-Fried Chicken: A Rock Opera

Alright, so not a real rock opera. Just dinner. Here's an easy one I made this week. Oven-fried chicken is the bomb.

Preparing the chicken: I got around my dislike for thawing meat in the microwave by placing four frozen chicken breasts in a big bowl of cool water. After about a half-hour, the chicken was thawed and ready. We've got a pair of kitchen scissors that come in handy for clipping the little bits of fat away (do this now) and pat the chicken dry.

Next, mix some egg-beaters and 3 tbl spoons of milk into a bowl. Dip each piece of chicken in the mixture and then roll in a mix of bread crumbs, spices, and pepper until both sides are well-coated. Place in a greased pan, drizzle with some melted margarine and bake for 50 minutes. (preheat on 375 degrees)

Other sides: I went with Instant Mashed Potatoes and steamed some frozen broccili and cauliflower. Next time I'll try stuffing as well.

Suggested Drinks: We were out of beer and wine, so I went with a glass of Arizona Pomegranate Green Tea. Technically it's green tea, but it looks and tastes like red cool-aid. I drink this stuff by the barrel.

Suggested Entertainment: We watched the 1984 hit Cloak & Dagger. It was our first time watching this movie, and it was pretty surreal.

Basements and Horizons

Nothing interesting in the pipeline today. The basement (rendered above) is becoming a vast, empty wildress of limitless new potential. I've already got a new mega-project waiting in the wings. Hope to give it the green light sometime in the next few days. My friend, David, donated a big bucket of wallpaper paste to the art cause, and preliminary experiments with this substance have yielded some amazing results. It takes and holds paint very well, is workable but sets up in a short span of time, and is non-caustic. It also mixes nice with cat litter for texture. (the first experiment was to create a textured, realistic surface for our warhammer gaming table, which I tick down as a resounding success)

What to do with wallpaper paste? I'm not certain yet. I keep thinking of rolling hills though. We'll see.

In an ironic twist: after my pro-swimming post, I suffered from burning, blurry eyes for the entire day. Chlorine attack!

Wear your goggles in the pool, kids.

Swim

I've been swimming on a regular basis at the YMCA since family and friends pitched in together to get me a membership for my birthday. It could well be my favorite thing in the entire world. Something about swimming makes me complete. You put me in the water, and suddenly I get it. Life makes sense.

I don't swim for the exercise. Well, that's not entirely true, but it's part of it. Although I can't help but notice some new defininition in my arms and shoulders, and experiencing the secret human glee that comes with getting into shape and seeing improvement.

But the real reason I don the swimming trunks and take the plunge every morning is the simple harmony involved. Mind, body, and soul unite for one purpose: locomotion in a suspension. The great secret is that real swimming is almost effortless. This isn't work. It's pulling oneself along in a weightless universe. Simple motion and peace. I recommend it to anyone. Can't swim? Learn to swim. Do yourself that favor. It's really pretty great.

Instruments of Chaos

I've discovered that I am incredibly bendable in regard to catching flying fish one-handed in the dark... Yet another reason to fear the darkness.

Today's fake recipe: Clove-Riddled Cow Hearts

Stick some cloves in a cow's heart and set on broil for 90 minutes. Saute lightly with chopped onions, and serve with a slice of lemon. (Serves 4.)

Running on Idol

I've got to stop building these models. They are infinitely fun to make, and therein lies my problem. I'm afraid they snare too much of my time and energy. So while the end result is something very cool and unique, it still manages to somehow turn in on itself.

I find myself being coaxed into an ever-narrowing channel with each new project. Every time I embark upon some new feat, a little granule gets left behind and I fear I'm losing touch. Devoured by mediocrity: the worst way to go. And it's not about finding fame and fortune. Nor the praises of peers. This is about the talents we bury in the backyard. Things like true compassion, patience, sacrifice, and integrity. And that's just for starters, kiddo.

Remember that we are surrounded by idols to small gods.

The Smell of Success

Feeling good today. Someone bought my piece at the Ohio Art League's annual Thumb Box Exhibition. I've been running around all day trumpeting this minor victory.

Hopefully I can get into the gallery to snap some pictures before the buyer takes it home.