Things I Don't Like and Lots of 'Em

I caught Chelsea Handler on the Conan O'Brien show last night on TIVO. She summed up her schtick as basically talking about things she doesn't like and that there were a lot of things she didn't like. That about sums up my entire life since I was about eight years old. Really, who knew? This is some sort of a skill. Not only that but it could have been marketable and a lucrative career path? People like to listen to that kind of thing? Apparently. I missed my calling.

I feel so cheated.

The Pit

Today was my second visit to the famous Raleigh barbecue restaurant. As was the case the first time, it did not disappoint and lived up to it's reputation. Located in the old warehouse district of Raleigh, The Pit serves up whole hog pit barbeque and has it's very own pitmaster and legend Ed Mitchell.

The first thing you will notice about The Pit is the modern sleekness of the place. Clean lines somehow intermingled with a touch of southern down home-iness. It's unassuming facade gives way to an urban upscale sensibility. The trendy mix with the office lunchers mix with the drove into town from somewhere elsers.

Each visit I opted for the pulled pork "plate". A myriad of southern favorites adorn your entree. Fried okra, sweet potato fries, coleslaw, mashed potatoes and gravy and home cooked macaroni and cheese are just a few of the choices. This visit I opted to try the collard greens. This was a first for me as I had never eaten them before. I was surprised to find they tasted a lot like a cabbage and less like a spinach as I thought they would.

North Carolina barbecue sauce is unlike the bottle of thick, fudgy maroon stuff many typically associate with barbecue. It is typically fairly clear with maybe a slight orange hue and very, very vinegary. The first time I tried it over a decade ago, I did not like it. Over the years I have developed a taste for it and like it as much as the traditional variety must of us are accustomed to.

As if the calories weren't packing on already, each plate is served with fried hushpuppies and a buttermilk biscuit. I had not had a hushpuppy for years until I entered North Carolina and have to admit on overdosing on their decadent goodness the first few months I was here. Since, I have backed off and enjoy them less frequently. Today was such an occasion.

If pork is not your thing, The Pit offers a little something for any barbecue enthusiast. Texas-style brisket, ribs, smoked turkey, a very respected fried chicken, and even a barbecue tofu dish. A full service bar serving a healthy choice of microbrews is also on premises. This afternoon we ordered a special Hops brewed locally in Holly Springs. Though we've never managed as far as dessert, they do offer a regional favorite, banana pudding among others.

If you find yourself in Raleigh on business or pleasure, I would recommend a visit to The Pit. It is located at 328 West Davie Street and can be found on the web at http://www.thepit-raleigh.com/.

Guess What? You're 40 and No One Cares Where You Went to School

I have entered an alternative universe where seemingly normal and somewhat functional adults are still fixated on where they received their higher education. I vaguely remember one time a few years ago my husband had a guy on his Linked In page who was obsessed with being a University of Florida Gator and he would send out numerous messages regarding the place, the Gators and various other alumni information. After about a month my husband deleted him. Not only because he was annoying, he was, but also because who the hell can relate to some 40 year old guy still living it? I figured he was an anomaly.

But, no, here I am surrounded by legions of these Gator Guys. I get that maybe that was a really happy period in their lives or that they remember it fondly. Really I do. But, people, it is time to move on. Let a new crop of actual students carry the banner. Or, at least, people who graduated within the last decade.

Is it a status thing? We usually aren't discussing Yale or Harvard with these types. That I can understand. Usually, though, a Yale-ite will have an understated little, very refined bumper sticker that says, "Yale". Just a little reminder to the world that, yes, this person is the creme de le creme. He's generally not driving around with flags hanging out of both sides of the roof of his car as he is heading to a tailgating party or spray painting "Go Pack" on his rear window.

Even so, it was decades ago. Is there no other period in their lives that held as much significance for these people as the four years they spent as an undergrad student? Is it a need to belong to a group, fulfilling some group identity base need? Can they not find groups with more relevance in the here and now?

Even weirder, some times it is that their children may have gone there. What do you do with that? Um, you do not even attend the school. Driving around with little flags on your car is weird. Driving around with little flags from a school you do not even go to or ever attend is really weird. "Oh, they are just showing their support for the school", you say. I say, "look at their checkbooks, there's their support".

Missing Hubcaps

The title sounds like some mellowy Jack Johnson coffee house song that is about nothing car related. Nope. I am talking about actual missing hubcaps. And it is epidemic around here.

What gives? How does this happen? Why is it on such a large scale?

I have read that driving around rim-less is a trend among Canadian Asian teenagers. However, this isn't what I am talking about. I am talking about seemingly normal people missing one or two hubcaps and, apparently, never replacing them. What can a new rim possibly cost? I would not know because I have never actually lost even one.

Which begs the question, do they get stolen? Is there a market for used hubcaps? That sounds so 1970's. There is a market now and a big one at that.

If they are not getting stolen how come I never see them? Judging by the sheer magnitude of this problem there should be a hubcap lying on the side of the road every 25 feet or so. I do not know that I have ever seen one. Not one.

And does anything scream "ghetto" more loudly than driving around with a few missing rims? Yeah, probably a few things but not many.

Reason number one why I really do not like living here. More to follow. Many more.

Green M&Ms

I am getting to where I dislike anything "green". Simply as an act of rebellion. When I saw that there were bags of M&Ms of only the green hue for sale, I immediately assumed it was some marketing gurus attempt at capturing the suburbanite, net grocery bag carrying, trendy, environmentally aware type.

My aggravation immediately was measurable. Not a difficult feat in it's own right but, yeah, I was annoyed. "Is nothing sacred?"..."Is there no avenue of our lives they won't reach their tentacles into?" "Isn't it enough that you lunatics have shrunk the tops to my bottled water to the point where I can not even open them in some vain attempt to use less plastic?"

I assumed it would be organic chocolate harvested from some cooperative in the "developing" world, covered with plant based dye that would surely melt in my mouth, hands and all over the insides of the new biodegradable packaging. Oh, and for sure some meager percentage of every bag sold would go to some pet cause. Lost to the Swiss banks accounts of shysters who play on the sympathies of rich and guilt ridden Western do-gooders.

Oh, they'd surely be smaller and use less cocoa. They'd probably taste more bitter too. Less sugar. Less enjoyment. After all, can't we all sacrifice a little for our precious Gaia. I could picture Al Gore's bloated face telling me how .3 ounces of bitter M&Ms was the least I could do for this dying planet.

Ok, so I was getting a little carried away.

As it turned out, my ire was displaced in this instance. The story is that the "green" M&M has long been rumored to have been an aphrodisiac. They are supposed to make you horny. Hence their release on Valentine's Day. I guess that would explain the advertisement that claimed "M&Ms is going green in time for Valentine's Day".

They lost me at "M&Ms is going green".

Maybe Not So Much For the Reader

I have been writing and not writing but have determined I need to write regularly. Writing is therapeutic. It is fun. For me, it has become necessary. Running used to be my therapy but now I find running and writing go hand in hand. Much like a smoker will tell you smoking and drinking are reliant on one another.

A quest to find that even place of peace which for me resides in the Sonoran Desert where I am not currently. My exile is the source of my winter of discontent. Possibly, too, spring, summer and fall.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities