Archive for February, 2010

Something that came to mind when I was writing the post Songs of 2009 is how sites like YouTube are changing how we get our media, not only videos but songs. I noticed while perusing for music to place in my post that a common theme on YouTube is to make a video that has the lyrics to a song showing along to the music. Nearly every song I looked for showed up in this formay; it’s a very handy way to just get the music without a distracting video or usually the poor sound quality of a live recording, as these ”lyrics” videos usually use a studio version. I also noticed that shortly after writing that post, one of the videos was taken down due to “terms of use violation” – I can only assume that the video was an infringement of copyright and was thus removed.

I do not know much about copyright law; I know that you are not supposed to sell any media you do not own the rights to, and iTunes won’t let you share a bought song with more than a handful of people. I am guessing the “terms of use” violations on YouTube are rampant (I am quite sure that those movies put up in 10 minute chunks are not legit). However, you notice they keep popping up. The nature of the internet, a confluence of anonymity and ease of use, creates a veritable breeding ground for such grey-area activities as taking a song you own (or got off of uTorrent, I suppose, even worse), putting some lyrics on, and hosting it on YouTube. Those who own the rights are out to stop it – but can millions of users be stopped?

I am not talking here of downloading software and such, which are clearly frowned upon and illegal – but even those are impossible to stop; first Napster then Bearshare and Kazaa and now torrenting services – but more, as I said, “grey areas.” Another example is a program I have called Radiotracker. It scans online radio stations for songs you choose, and then downloads them in whatever quality and with whatever fade-in the station used; imperfect but hey, you get a song. I didn’t listen to the station, but is it stealing? What is the future of music rights with the internet? On the one hand, it provides a handy way of selling music through places like Amazon and iTunes.

The grey areas seem to be indicative of the weakening hold the music industry has on the products it makes. Is it possible that someday they will lose what grasp they have, and music will enter its own as a part of the public domain? It hardly is so in theory now, but in practice, well, anytime anyone in my family wants to find a song quickly, a YouTube video is one of the best, fast means of doing so. I doubt this is “another brick in the wall” – as people get more and more used to having music for free, they will be less and less inclined to pay for it.

I am no expert, as I have said. However, that is how it appears to me. What do you think? Will music eventually fail to be a commodity, bought and sold? Should it?

This morning I pondered for several minutes which jeans to wear. The absurdity of this should be pretty clear (hint: they all look the same.) Perhaps I wasn’t fully awake; the state of dreams, where placed into stark contrast are what we truly desire and what we most fear, both juxtaposed alongside what makes the least sense (“there were seven old men selling seven old cars on the ocean floor….”) sometimes overflows into the early hours of my day. Only in such partially-consciousness could such a decision have such gravity. There is a moment in the day when one finally, fully wakes. This could be a bad moment – the smack of reality across the face of what-might-have-been leaves a hefty welt some days (“wait, you mean that didn’t all just happen and I’m really living this life? Sigh”) or it could be a good one – “today is here, the sun is shining, the tank is clean!” (Finding Nemo).

Maybe this morning I woke when, having crawled out of my room at 6:15 am, I realized I had definitely forgotten to do the dishes last night (washing chili out of bowls in the wee hours is less than the best that life has to offer). Then again, maybe it was fifteen minutes later when my mother  (the editor) put on Dard-e Disco (her favorite 6:30 tune; whether she puts it on for the music or Shah Rukh Khan’s abs, who knows.)

It definitely wasn’t when, standing on the porch in lounge pants and sock feet, watching the dog make his rounds of the yard, and holding a bowl of oatmeal I was perusing, I was totally oblivious to the fact that it was 26° outside.

I think it was when, driving to school (in my coat and hat finally, somehow, realizing how cold it was) I saw the clear sky – heavily grateful, to be sure, as my mood has not exactly been trampolined into the air by the overcast tones of late – and I saw the yellow light of an early sun splash around on the houses, causing neat colors to form. I was singing along to “No Surprise” rather loud, and it wasn’t bad. I think I’ve shared before that my drive or ride to school in the morning is often a great part of my day.

Anyway, speaking of sleeping and/or waking up, I’d like to send a shoutout to my friend, found in the library yesterday morning at 7am, who shared with me the exact formula for “how to fail an o-chem test” (we had one later that day). It made me smile (hint: it involved the library commons, several thousand cups of coffee, an all-nighter, and words that become like ants running around on the page and laughing as they carry benzene rings back and forth). Props to you, my good friend, for your dedication. I for one was sleeping during most of that time, dreaming about said test in ways that made less sense than the ancient car dealers hanging out with the bottom-feeders.

Props also to the writer of said o-chem test who did not in fact make it so difficult that our work would have been an insult to the field. Grades are still pending, of course.

Moving along, I’d also like to give you some advice. “Prepare for all contingencies” is a favorite axiom of mine, and here’s one way to do so: pad your car repair budget. What!? On any given Monday in February I might get whacked with $450 for a new water pump? Well, I did panic at first, but then realized that I actually did have the money in my budget. One of the lessons of early adulthood, I guess: Yes, you can spend triple digits on car repairs. Easily. Especially if your car has 209,000 miles on it and is as old as you are. Oh, and if it had been making a weird rattling noise like something was coming loose? Yeah. Definitely could happen.

To continue this disjointed and rambling post, here’s something of  interest. Many of the aches, pains, and fevers experienced by those whose bodies have been invaded by small malingering bodies known as viruses are actually caused by your own body’s immune response. Basically, when I was writhing and groaning and all around in agony several weeks ago, in the grips of some sort of evil stomach flu, and couldn’t get comfortable to save my life, it was likely the fault of a little protein named Interferon β, produced en masse in response to viral infection, which for reasons I am likely to know eventually causes you pain. (If this protein is made when you are not sick, you will still get the symptoms; needless to say your body is pretty careful about when it is made) So next time you are writhing and groaning, flailing about on the couch at 2am like some kind of half-dead fish, blame yourself, or rather the heavily complicated immune system machinery that will likely see you to the end and out of that illness.

Anyways, in closing here is a song for all those caught in the doldrums of February (more on that in a later post). I listened to this while getting dressed this morning, and it’s good to know that “Dark is the night/For all” – you’re not alone.  (“It’s time we moved out West/this time will be the best” – agreed).

Cheers!

Bread Pudding

On Saturday afternoon, we went somewhat crazy with the baking and cooking. At the end of the day, there were chocolate cupcakes (frosted, with sprinkles), a double recipe of brownies, deviled eggs, jello, and bread pudding. All the pent-up energy from not having an oven finally burst forth in a flurry of kitchen creativity.

I made the bread pudding. This recipe is a great way to get rid of stale bread, as dry bread works best (it absorbs the filling, becoming sweet and flavorful). In lieu of that, fresh bread works just fine.

The recipe came from an indeterminate source; I found it handwritten in my mother’s recipe book.

Begin by pre-heating the oven to 325°. Next, gather about two and a half cups of bread pieces. Most any type works – white, wheat, cinnamon raisin. I wouldn’t suggest any bread that has a taste which might not taste good sweetened (rye, for example). Lay the pieces out in a medium-sized pan (the one at left is an 8″ by 8″ I believe – a little on the large side for this recipe) Usually I use a glass or ceramic pan. Greasing the pan won’t hurt.

Next, beat four eggs in a bowl; add two cups of milk and one third of a cup sugar. Next, add one half teaspoon each of cinnamon and vanilla and one quarter teaspoon salt. Beat all of this together and pour over the bread pieces. If you want, sprinkle raisins on top – as much as you like. If the people who will be eating are of two minds about the taste of raisins, you can only put them on half, as I did above. Bake the ‘pudding’ for 40-45 minutes. When done, a knife should come out clean and the egg should look cooked.Then, enjoy! Note that the recipe I  made did not last long enough in one piece for a picture to be taken (alright, I’ll admit I was the one who took that piece, then later thought of writing a post. Pfft)

This is a nice dessert; it is not nearly as sugary as a cake, but will still fulfill the sweet tooth nicely.

Tasty food!

A, my youngest brother, took some pictures yesterday. I taught him how to focus the camera. Here are some of his photos. Note the perspective: very different than when, say, I take pictures, as he is only about four feet tall.

Pasta cooking on our new range.

A pot of tomato sauce with some sausage.

We made a cake together.

The inside of the oven/the reflection of the photographer in the window.

This one came out pretty neat looking.

The Six-year old has various interests; among them, matchbox cars.

Shortly after the New Year, I made a playlist of my favorite songs from 2009. Here are the best.

Already Gone – Kelly Clarkson

Listen to this one really loud in the car. Anyone who’s been through a relationship that soured won’t mind yelling out “started with a perfect kiss then/we could feel the poison set in” or “I want you to know/ it doesn’t matter where we take this road/someone’s gotta go” Kelly Clarkson is probably the only singer I listened to in middle school who I would admit to still listening to today. She’s classic and I’m very happy she keeps coming out with good songs (Anyone remember American Idol? They still play Miss Independent on the radio sometimes.) Also good by her last year were “My Life Would Suck Without You” and “I Do Not Hook Up.” Props to her for the latter especially – stars with some semblance of morals are something we need more of.

Gives You Hell – The All American Rejects

The first time I heard this song, I couldn’t believe it – it was perfect. (See above). The title explains it all. Next time you run into somebody you really don’t want to see, and it nearly ruins your day, just sing this song in your head. You’ll feel a lot better. (Who care if “truth be told I miss you/truth be told I’m lying.” Just ignore that part. The truth hurts, so sometimes you should ignore it a bit)

Someday – Rob Thomas

Another one to listen to full blast.  “You can try to carry on when all you want to do is cry/but maybe someday/we’ll figure this all out.” Sometimes you need to hear that. This is for those days when totin’ the weary load is starting to feel like a pile of….well, you get the idea. It’s hopeful, while being broody and melancholy.  Sounds kind of like me.

Love Remains the Same – Gavin Rossdale

I’ve listened to this so many times my six year old brother can sing it. Talk about broody and melancholy. It reminds me of “The Difference” by matchbox twenty; walking empty streets, giving your all. My favorite line is “the city buzz it sounds just like a fridge” – really bizarre but descriptive and insightful. My mother says that music is its own language – this one certainly speaks to me.

Tim McGraw – Taylor Swift

This tells a little story, and is very bittersweet. The emotion feels real, the story is not airbrushed. The idea of a song bringing back so many memories also appeals to me – I have deep associations with some songs, good and bad. This song is about the mementos of a relationship  – shared and unshared (“in a box beneath my bed/is a letter that you never read”). I’m sure we all have something like that unsent letter – as long as it stays among the shoeboxes and dust, the pain of the past will remain, but also there remains a tiny glimmer of hope remains, no matter how deeply buried in the back of a closet and the depths of one’s heart, which might still be cherishing a bit of girlish naivete.

Vanilla Twilight – Owl City

Owl City, who did the very popular Fireflies, also did this piece. It’s about missing someone from afar; the imagery created by the words and electronic background tones is quite exquisite. “As many times as I blink I’ll think of you tonight.” Very sweet and cheery – for once, not brooding. “Oh darling I wish you were here” – living vicariously through this song isn’t too bad.

My favorite preparation of oatmeal

Oatmeal is one of those rare foods, which not only tastes alright but happens to be particularly filling and – aha! – good for you. It can get your through a long morning without crashing from hunger, takes a very short time to make, and will get you points for fiber in your diet.

The editor and myself both enjoy a nice bowl of oatmeal in the morning; she likes the traditional rolled oats, which take a few minutes to cook on the stove. Some milk, brown sugar, and golden raisins are good.

For myself, well, there has to be a lot more sugar than that. Also, the oats are the quick kind, because I like the texture of them uncooked. I pour the oats in a bowl, fill with milk, and microwave about a minute – enough to warm the milk without cooking the oats into mush. Then, I add in either copious amounts of any number of things: jelly, frozen fruit, yogurt every once in a while. Lately, though, the most common has been mini chocolate chips and marshmallows (see right). Ah, the chips melt on top, and you can stir the marshmallows in (see previous post RE my feelings about marshmallows). As a child I used to love the S’mores flavor of Pop Tarts. This is pretty similar, just a tad more grown up and healthy.

Tasty.

I am told that as a young preschooler, I would walk behind my mother saying “Mama, hold me, hold me!” whereupon she would turn, look down on me with a smile described only as besotted, and say “oh, well I guess.” Cue the housekeeper at the time, a wonderful woman I am led to believe, who would chime in “Ah, you’re going to spoil that child!” “Oh, no, she just wants to be held is all.”

Well, I can assure my readers that such treatment had definitively ended by my second brother’s arrival, and once I was well into the second decade of my life such coddling was a distant memory. However, I am still spoiled, and that is when it comes to food. See, my family is the ultimate formula for creating a food snob.

Yes, I admit I do not believe that Kraft cheese slices are actually edible. I raise an eyebrow at most things that come from the freezer section (Ice cream – the good kind – and frozen vegetables excluded). I operate under my stepfather’s direction: “fresh food is always good for you!” and, combine that with my mother’s leeriness with anything prepared outside of the house and not by yourself, well, you get the idea.

Not that I dislike restaurant food. Just bad restaurant food. Adulterated Italian food especially (like in Big Night: “That man should be killed for the food he serves! Do you know what goes on in that restaurant every night? RAPE! The rape of cuisine!”)  Oh, mangia-cake Italians, everything drenched in cheese, massive meatballs….I shudder. Unfortunately, I knew what risotto was by age ten, and could tell you that osso buco is always served with the saffron kind. I could translate “salt im boca” for you, and explain that while grain-fed veal makes the best, you can use chicken if it’s not available. The sage is fresh. Use the good prosciutto. It makes a difference.

But it’s not just Italian food. Thanksgiving dinner after Thanksgiving dinner that paid homage to the best American cooking – we had eight pies last year. And they weren’t made with store bought crust (not even Crisco, actually) and yes, I went to five different grocery stores trying to find the right cherries for the pie (sour, not Bing or “filling”). The apples were Romas. The meringue was made from scratch. It makes a difference.

Lately we have been enjoying Indian and South Asian food. My stepfather and I have experimented with different ratios of dark soy to tamarind in making Pad Thai just the right color and flavor. He scoured the stores all over looking for “Garlic chives” to no avail (his ostensible theory: if a meal doesn’t take a trip to several stores, one of which is ethnic and one is Central market, it’s just not the same). Thankfully, we have our favorite India Mart right down the street, selling everything from Kinder Surprises (which are now basically smuggled in since some wet blanket bureaucrat decided someone could choke on the small parts of the toy) to pounds of every spice you can imagine to samosas. Their prices are great, and the food is good (it makes a difference.)

Ironically, some in my family my think of me as a philistine – after all, I will eat store-bought sandwich bread. (my older sister won’t) However, I make my Dad proud by eating all kind of seafood, even clams and oysters, on occasion. He is right: once you’ve had good seafood, you can’t go back. And until you’ve had the best, don’t judge seafood.

However, I am a pretty level-headed person. I realize food can’t be everything in all places to all people. I realize that everyone has their own tastes and snobbery. I once had a friend who serially looked down on my homemade cookies because of their high butter content – as he ate a nice little prepackaged Cliff bar (eye roll). I admit to having a fondness for all kinds of chocolate bars (Twix, or Snickers if you’re really hungry. I may have been influenced by advertising there). I only recently found out cheese is mostly fat and therefore is not, in fact, that good for you. Marshmallows have a food group all their own, and they can be the store brand, especially if they are going to be melted. I might put ketchup on eggs, but only every once in a while.

It’s bad, I know. But at least I can blame it on anyone but me. After all, I would love wheat bread if only my mother hadn’t always fed me white as a child, and I’m sure I’d have higher tolerance for Miracle Whip if I had known of its existence before I turned a reasonable age. So, I blame my parents, and my older sister.  Now excuse me, I have one more piece left of my apple – organic, and a Fuji. Trust me, it makes a difference.