Stephen Mark Rainey's Blog, page 144

Caches, Quakes, and Dead Cows

I suppose that, years from now, folks from all over the east coast may be able to look back and remember exactly where they were and what they were doing during the quake of 8-23-11. Me, I was sitting in my office, pounding keys, when the floor began to shake. Now, at The Education Center, whenever a soul of especial girth or devoted purpose strides down the hall, the floor shakes a bit. (A typical building designed by the Koury Corporation; with tenants of overall slight build and a spot of good weather, you're generally okay.) After the shaking went on for a while, I decided that I didn't care how devoted one's purpose, this was getting ridiculous and it was time to say something. I stepped out into the hall and...nothing. Nary a stomper to be seen. But folks from all over the third floor began to materialize, and it soon dawned on us that either a fault had shifted or Godzilla was on the rise.



At least we may all be thankful it didn't prove to be a major destructive event, unlike some in recent memory.



A bunch of new caches were published today, so after work, I headed out to the Glencoe area to go hiking along the Haw River, which is always very scenic, and today, the weather was cooperative—clear and warm but not oppressively hot. I put in about five miles and managed first-to-finds on five new caches, though a sixth proved elusive due to endlessly shifting coordinates...which I'll just go ahead and blame on the earthquake. A return trip will be in order.



Robin Jensen, from the Virginia Museum of Natural History in Martinsville, is organizing a clean-up event at Frank Wilson Park next month, so I decided to set up a complementary Cache-In Trash-Out (CITO) event to hopefully draw some geocachers, who can get caching credit for attending. It's a worthwhile effort—part of the 26th Annual International Coast Cleanup, sponsored by Ocean Conservancy International. Here's a link to the event: Wilson Park Stream Cleanup, Saturday, September 23, 10:00 AM–12:00 PM.



This evening's caching expedition kept me out till just past sundown, so I ended up doing a late-dinner kind of thing...after a celebratory Damned Rodan's Dirty Firetini, of course. And holy cows, the dead cow was good. I put some beef spare ribs on the charcoal grill and burnt 'em just right. Seriously, some of the best ribs I've ever tasted, these were. I was intending to just eat two of the three, but they were so frikkin' good, I ended up killing the lot of them. Seemed like the thing to do at the time.



Let's have no more shaking, you hear?

Saved by Funnel Fries?

[image error] A good crowd at the Eden Drive-In for Final Destination 5 and Fright Night .



Sometimes, a combination of unforeseen circumstances and marginally good decision-making provides fodder for a little cautionary tale. Last night, Ms. B. and I spent a most enjoyable evening at the Eden drive-in theater watching Final Destination 5 and Fright Night . It's one of our favorite places to catch movies, since I've been a drive-in junkie since I was a wee young-un (according to my folks, my very first movie outing was Disney's Babes In Toyland at a drive-in theater; and do hush about my age). Per our custom, we indulged in some delicious but ever-so-naughty cheezburgers, fries, chocolate chip cookies, and tasty adult beverages. Even though the spirits flowed freely for a while, we had enough sense, or something akin to it, to put a lid on the drink at the end of the first feature.



Then...despite our calorie and cholesterol intake already being through the roof...I took it to heart to sample the drive-in's funnel fries, which I could smell cooking and had me salivating a freaking river. Oh, my lord...funnel fries are GOOD—and, I'm pretty sure, an excellent means of neutralizing alcohol. When it came time to leave, I was quite confident that I was good to drive because it had been a couple of hours since capping the bottle, and we had consumed monstrous quantities of unhealthy food in the bargain.



Thus it was that, on the way down the road, we saw a pair of blue flashing lights in the distance and figured that someone had been pulled over. As we neared the patrol cars, the vehicle in front of us slowed down, and I slowed down, as required by law, and we went on by, as we ordinarily would. Apparently, though, the officers were setting up a checkpoint and intended for us to stop, but as I could not see through the car up front, I never saw the troopers until we were past them. So, no doubt a little peeved, both of them come after us and pulled over both me and the driver of the car up front—who clearly should have understood the officers' intent.



Needless to say, the trooper asked about our evening's activities, which I answered truthfully, and he had me take a breathalyzer test. Happily, I blew well under the legal limit, and he wished me a good and safe evening—then rushed over to assist his buddy checking out the driver of the car in front of me, who, I suspect, probably did not register safely in the sober range.



So...while I clearly could have made many healthier choices last evening, at least I avoided what could have been a very ugly situation, not just for the night but potentially long-term. You can bet the mental file of the experience is brightly highlighted in my brain's little directory of folders. Also highlighted is a happy little footnote about the virtues of funnel fries....



Do drink responsibly.



As for the pictures themselves:



Final Destination 5 is less a movie with a plot than an ongoing exercise in cleverness, but it's beaucoup fun and features an ingenious tie-in to the original film in the series; I know I've seen at least one of the others, but I'm not sure which. Fright Night departed considerably from the original, which I thought worked in its favor. Colin Farrell was much better than I expected. The first half had some effective moments of intrigue, but then it just got noisy. The characters were nothing to brag on, though David Tennant was pretty good. With just a little tweaking, this could have been a decent stand-alone vampire movie minus the Fright Night title; and that's probably what it should have been.

I Has a Krud

[image error] I also has a temper.



Home from work today due to krud. Ugly summer krud. Not pleased.



On that subject, Geocaching.com, the premier website of my favorite avocation—which, if you frequent this blog, you surely know all about—has succumbed to krud as well. Krud of the brain, I'm pretty sure. The series of site updates over the past few months have steadily decreased its user-friendliness, and yesterday's update appears to have been solely intended to piss off the geocaching community. Now, if you're not a cacher, this will mean nothing to you, so forgive my choice of topic. But today, I'd rather be pissed off about geocaching than politics, the economy, publishing, and other subjects of broader scope. Just because.



Back when I started caching, in early 2008, Geocaching.com was as user-friendly as a site could be, and it—along with the geocachers I met because of it—drew me into the game with all kinds of enthusiasm. This year, in particular, Groundspeak, the company that runs the website, seems to have forgotten that it created and nurtured a wonderful community of people who share a love of caching, and that a large number of them—myself included—pay for premium memberships. Without any regard for their very substantial core base, Groundspeak has taken to implementing changes that significantly and objectively undermine the site's usefulness and even diminish the essence of the game. Yesterday's unveiling of "challenges," which are a completely different animal than geocaching itself but that count toward a player's total cache finds, has drawn significant negative but constructive feedback—the most reasonable of which was summarily gunned down by Groundspeak founder and CEO Jeremy Irish. I find Groundspeak's demeaning attitude reprehensible, and it really is symptomatic of many businesses who have grown too big for their britches and lost touch with the people who made them successful in favor of superficial glitter, probably in hopes of drawing in unsuspecting newbies.



The geocaching community is a community...a vital one...and Geocaching.com is not Facebook. It should not be styled after Facebook, and god in heaven, it should not be run like Facebook. In Groundspeak's own words, their people "got together in a room to brainstorm what should be done for the site going forward." That's what we call "in a vacuum," Mr. Irish. The ire on the feedback forums is, in my experience, unprecedented. Get a freaking clue, sir. Listen to those who've put you where you are and respect them. And fashion your product accordingly.



There. That's Damned Rodan's kruddy rant for the day. Hope you are feeling better than I am.

Seal Adventure

Given the horrible tragedy this week of losing a number of Navy SEALs in Afghanistan, it's oddly appropriate that the primary geocache I undertook to log this week was called "SEAL Qualification Training" (GC1DHDF), so named because it's a mentally as well as physically challenging multi-cache with six stages. It was originally hidden in 2008 by Ted "Sketcher" Beach, but it's only been found a handful of times, and the last logged find before me was in April 2010. If you endeavor to complete this one all at once—assuming you correctly solve the puzzle to acquire the final coordinates—it's seven to eight miles of hiking on the Greensboro watershed trails. I opted to do it a stage at a time—one stage per hike (though I did end up finding stages 3 and 4 on one trip)—just so I'd have an excuse to get out there on the trails a number of times. Thus, on my several hikes, I managed to make it a cumulative total of something like 18–20 miles. But hey, I need the exercise! This one isn't necessarily a night cache, but it is set up with reflectors so that it can be done at night; alas, except for one hike which kept me out after dark, I ended up doing most of it in daylight. I do tend to enjoy the long arduous ones (and they're particularly arduous when it's a hundred degrees out, like today), especially when they're as well-conceived as this cache. Each stage leading up to the final is a micro or small container containing the coordinates to the next stage and a numerical clue. One must put those clues together correctly in order to get the coordinates for the final, which is a big old ammo can full of fun swag.



There is a sequel to this cache, called "Hooyah" (GCV1JC), which I actually did many moons ago, and I'm kind of glad I did it first, as it was the easier of the two...a good one to ease you into the rigors of this one, heh heh.



If you're a local geocacher and you haven't found this one yet, I definitely recommend it (and its brother), whether all at once or on individual trips, the way I did. But get yourself in shape first. It's pretty rigorous.

Damned Rodan's Thai Basil Chicken

Thai food is about my favorite thing in the world, so I often try my hand at various Thai recipes. My most successful is probably Thai Basil Chicken, made Thai-hot, and I think I made the best-ever batch for dinner last night. Here's the recipe. Count on about 20 minutes prep time and 10–15 minutes cooking time.

What you need (serves two):
1 garlic clove, finely chopped6 hot chili peppers (Serrano are perfect); 2 thinly sliced; 4 finely chopped2 tbsp. hot chili oil2 tbsp. Thai chili sauce2 tsp. soy sauce1/2 bell pepper, thinly slicedlettucejuice from 2 limes1/2 cup sugar1 cup chopped basil leaves1 cup fish sauce (half for cooking, half for two side servings of sauce)1 cup Jasmine rice1 lb. ground chicken1 tbsp. crushed dried chili pepper
What you do:
To make two side bowls of hot chili fish sauce: into each small bowl, pour 1/4 cup fish sauce and the two thinly sliced chili peppers. Stir into each bowl 1 tsp. Thai chili sauce, 1 tsp. soy sauce, and the juice from 1/2 lime. Now let the sauce sit and blend while the rest of the dinner is in the works.
Get the Jasmine rice cooking so it'll be ready when everything else is.Place ground chicken in a bowl. Squeeze in the juice from 1 lime, and add sugar, fish sauce, and Thai chili sauce. Knead thoroughly.Heat skillet or wok on high until it's super-hot. Then pour in hot chili oil. When oil is smoking hot, add garlic and chopped peppers. Stir for about a minute and then lower heat to medium.Add ground chicken mix and stir frequently.When chicken is almost done, add the basil leaves. Continue to stir.Before serving, drain excess liquid. (Careful!)
Serve over rice on a bed of lettuce. Sprinkle crushed pepper over the chicken and finally place the slivers of bell pepper on top.Add desired amount of fish/pepper sauce. If you're like me, pour the whole damn bowl on there. And prepare to have your ass kicked.If I'm really in the mood to have my taste buds hammered, I start this meal with a Damned Rodan's Dirty Firetini. Sake or a decent red wine also makes fine accompaniment; last night, we had a 2008 Mouton Cadet Bordeaux, about which I have no complaints.

Yeah, man.

Danger!

I remember watching Patrick McGoohan in Secret Agent (a.k.a. Danger Man)when I was a wee young 'un, though, of course, its finer points were lost on me at the time. Having fairly recently re-visited The Prisoner from start to finish, I decided to give the original Danger Man series (1960-62, 1964-68) a look via Netflix. What a brilliant show it was, if these days relatively obscure. While certain commonalities with the James Bond films are evident in the series, much of it was conceived before the 007 phenomenon reached the heights for which it's known today. I'm convinced that Patrick McGoohan was one of the most accomplished actors of his day, in this series alone displaying a wide range of character portrayals by way of impersonation and disguise, all the while remaining true to the character of the series' protagonist, John Drake. The famous theme song by Johnny Rivers was attached only to the U.S. release; the title themes for both the original and follow-up Danger Man series were written by Edwin Astley. Despite being something of purist when it comes to original release versions, I must say, I do prefer the Johnny Rivers song. Call it nostalgia.

I have distinct memories of seeing McGoohan in Disney's The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh from the early 60s, which I would love to check out again in its entirety. It's a beautiful period piece, set in the 18th century, about the swashbuckling adventures of Dr. Christopher Syn, based on the early 20th-century novels by Russell Thondike. Originally made as a three-part television serial for The Wonderful World of Disney, an edited version was released in the UK—and later on these shores as Dr. Syn, Alias the Scarecrow. Alas, the Disney film is not currently available (I do so hate Disney and their ultra-limited video releasing, but that's whole nuther topic). And in the 1980s, McGoohan played the darkly charismatic Dr. Paul Ruth in David Cronenberg's classic Scanners, another one I haven't seen in years and need to remedy.

Here's the U.S. opening to Danger Man, a.k.a. Secret Agent, featuring the Johnny Rivers title song. Enjoy.

Beavers' Playgrounds, Whale Rocks, and Others

Night-Ranger, MarkCase, Keegrepus, Damned Old Flying Reptile Dude, and
Ranger Fox at Beavers' Playground.

Caching excursions frequently take me to fascinating places, and yesterday's outing to the Raleigh/Wake County area was no exception. Got up before the ass crack of dawn, met up with fellow cachers Mark Case, Rich "Night-Ranger" Colter, and Christopher "Ranger Fox" Hall, and hit the road, our primary goal being the oldest cache in Wake County, "Beavers' Playground" (GC17B). Once we got to the trail, we hooked up with local cachers Greg "Keegrepus" and Linda "Pink Dolphin." We trekked over hill and dale and ended up in an ocean of various species of tall grasses, much of which rose above our heads. Getting through it proved rather harrowing, for we could hear strange stirrings around us, and every now and then we sensed a distinctly evil presence—which I came to realize was almost certainly a herd of those legendary carnivorous bigfoot beavers that populate the backwoods of Wake County. We were lucky to get out of there with our lives. At least we did pause our panicked flight long enough to sign the cache log.

From there, we made our way to several other caches, eventually ending up at one called "Whale Rocks" (GC1HM37), so named because ground zero is one whale of a rock. Ranger Fox stomped on it. Poor whale rock. We also found a most interesting cliff along a remote roadside that is covered with garnet crystals. There were a couple of young rockhounds on the scene collecting samples, and being that Mr. Case is a teacher of environmental sciences, he got downright excited and pitched in to help the young 'uns in their quest. I brought home a nice little sample of my own. It's quite pretty, and it's also big and heavy enough to chuck at a bigfoot beaver should one decide to chase after me.

Last night, Ms. B. and I gathered with several friends at ye House of Albanese for dinner (homemade tacos) and a spot of wine....well, perhaps more than a spot. It was a fine ending to an exhausting but most satisfying day of physical activity.

Keegrepus and Night-Ranger emerging from the beavers' lair. Note the expressions;
yes, they are fleeing in desperate panic from a herd of carnivorous bigfoot beavers.

Survival story: "We lived to tell the tale." MarkCase, Keegrepus, and Night-Ranger

Ranger Fox stomping on the whale's head

The Feral Kittens Are Much Cuter

[image error] Spider is clearly expecting young 'uns. Either that or it ate the feral kittens that have been periodically coming around the backyard.

She certainly wasn't so big the other day (Monday, July 18, 2011: Bad Kharma)

Another Not-Quite-a-G-Fest Day

Every few months, it is necessary to get together with my old friend Bill Mann and watch Godzilla movies, particularly when one or both of us couldn't make it to the annual G-Fest in Chicago. Today's selection...


Our comrade-in-kaiju, Wayne Miller, was hoping to join us, but sadly couldn't make it today. Alas, poor Wayne. No monster mayhem for you, old man. Clearly, the world would be a better, healthier place if more people were into cities being laid waste by giant, radioactively mutated prehistoric monsters.

Bad Kharma

Four close calls with paper wasp and yellowjacket nests this past week (see "Friends, Fortune, and Flying Critters" for a couple of them) without a single sting—including one today, when my friend Paul and I, while out caching, pretty much walked right into a yellowjacket nest without mishap. Not to let such kharma persist unchecked, when we stopped at a McDonald's for lunch shortly thereafter, as soon as I opened the door, a yellowjacket zoomed in and stung me on the thumb. Fortunately, I'm not allergic to the little bastards. Now it just itches.

Among the other critters seen out and about today...