Take two thick slices of Noonie's day old bread, smear Honey Cup honey mustard
liberally over both. Cover both slices with green leaf lettuce. Then on one slice only lay smoked turkey on the lettuce,
a tomato slice on the turkey and sprinkle it with shredded carrot. Then on the lay a slice of provolone cheese over the
carrot then a green pepper ring on top of the cheese. Sprikle with sprouts. Cover with the other slice, lettuce side down.
The letuce should be stuck to the bread with honey mustard so it doesn't fall off when you turn it upside down to cover the
sandwich. Slice sandwich in half with a knife. Wrap in tightly in plastic wrap. Use too much wrap. Tape on label. Tadaaa!
Weighs one pound. Costs Four Bucks.
"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your
teeming shore, Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed,
to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
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"During the 1992 campaign, Bill Clinton
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Whatever things
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Your kids aren't special
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thank you Bill Hicks, you run of the mill dead guy. I love you. You and Mitch Headberg. Did he die too? I could Google it to make it sound like I knew all along, but I don't feel like writing that way right now. Give it a rest already. Everybody knows everything in cyberspace. If somebody asks a question of fact in a comment string on Carpetbagger, invariably some smart alec will tell that person that she should learn to Google and that it only took them two seconds to find it themselves. Blah blah blah.
I'm not going to Google Headberg, but I will get back to stand-up comics. I like George Carlin quite a bit. I like Chris Rock.
Maybe I'll mention George Burns, since I have a deep affinity for the elderly. I'm basically a very old man trapped in a young man's body. I was obsessed with the Titanic as a child. I liked Phillip Marlow and jazz. The cogs of my gears don't fit into the holes they're supposed to be timed to. Everything is new-fangled and I'm just a sick and tired curmudgeon.
Someone asked George Burns how his doctor felt about the fact he still drank and smoked cigars every day.
"My doctor's dead." replied the elderly Mr. Burns.
Shit I've got a lot of mileage out of that joke. The three word punch line works well with my bad impression of George Burns. In a couple of years, nobody will know who the hell George Burns was. Then I'll be forced to get a new joke.
A comedian has a power that is far greater than a politician's in some ways. It's far more direct. Far more honest. When comedians and pols blend, though, that can be a good thing. I'm thinking of Bill Mahr and Jason Lorber as examples.
I tried stand up comedy once at an open mike in Austin. I did so-so. I tried poetry slam here in Burlington a couple of times too. I did ok. The woman that ran it then, Kim Jordan, is an incredible talent. I heard the way she would announce those shows and control the room. Perfect enunciation, projection, pitch modulation. Whatever. She never missed a beat and she never screwed up either as the host or as a poet. Talent like Kim Jordan's drives me into emotional paralysis, turning me inward to face the dark reality that I can never be as good, and there's basically no way I can ever compete in this world. Thanks Kim. Burlington is lucky to claim you.
So are our kids special? My kids better be. They're the ones who will have to retroactively justify my pitiful existence. But then I'm sure a lot of people think the same way. Well we all die and we're all held down by gravity, so really nobody is that special. An aneurysm could drop any of us off the stage right now. So there's that.
Still. Though the differences may be minor in the grand scheme of things, they are differences nonetheless. Some people do things and others don't. This is some really basic stuff.
You are invited to return to this blog as often as you'd like.
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"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your
teeming shore, Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed,
to me: I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
-Emma Lazarus, 1883
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Whatever things
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Whatever things
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Bill Maher and me? Hmmm....
I'll have to hear your stand-up someday.
Best,
Jason
www.jasonplorber.com