SPARE RIBS "ALOHA"

So i wanted to make something yummy for Keith's family as they are coming over for dinner, and I was digging through my recipes and one stood out. It was such an interesting font and then I realized it was typed on a typewriter. OMG, how old was this? I called my mom and we talked more about their recent 3 week trip to Hawaii and I asked her where this recipe came from and she couldn't remember but did have this to say. " I've had that recipe since before you ....". "Really?", I stated, "its an antique then". We giggled and I told her as usual I was going to adapt it to modern times and whip it up for the in-laws. She asked that I let her know how it turns out and she would excavate hers ...lol so here it is

3 lbs of spare ribs
1 chopped onion
2 8oz cans of tomato sauce
1 tblsp worchesstershire ( this is how it was typed lol ) sauce
1/3 cup of vinegar
1 can of pineapple tidbits ( what is that? is that old school for chunks?)
1/4 cup of brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon of dry mustard

salt and pepper ribs , place in shallow pan .
bake in moderate oven (350) for 1 1/2 hours.
pour off excess fat , while ribs are roasting mix other ingredients together and let stand to blend flavor.

Pour over ribs after they have cooked and then place back in oven and allow to cook for 45 minutes more.

My adaptation is as follows: I threw it all in the crock pot and cooked it for 4 hours on high...the easy way.
Maybe the antique way is better but i will never know.

We are serving them with pasta and basil salad, homemade spicy bacon bread, homemade lemonade with mint from the garden.  Keith made a butter cake with chocolate frosting for dessert....yummmy yummmy.  He's gonna be a southern boy before you know it ya'll


Cheers and E ʻai ka-kou

Michael

ALL AT ONCE Everything Changed

in September of 2010 I once again chanted for change in my life and little did i know what was to come. Like the last time i earnestly and consistently did that and i got the signal that i was free and clear to move across the country and did so .This time even more happened. Watch watch out what ya chant or pray for . So much happened that i have not been here since , but i have missed documenting my thoughts although usually random , my interesting self examinations and theories and interests and most of all the things that make me smile , laugh , cry and bring me joy, so here i am back in action i think im better after all that has happened or am i the same just tired . Well i have learned alot and i am gonna get you all caught up here soon

do i dare speak the L word?

Why is that one such a tongue twister , it seems to have more weight  than any other word in my limited vocabulary or in the world , think about it ;and why is that ? i can say i love my mom , i love my job , i love my house .But when it goes along with feelings deep from that  place..... i have trouble accessing, it is a very large scary and tough thing to get from there to my mouth .
Have i said it to much ? Does it add shackles that i am not aware or afraid of? ITS JUST A WORD ; one we all crave and enjoy and want professed to us but sure hard to say or better , admit. I find my self in that place again in my life and it feels amazing when i say it then the terror and the critic come out . Cant i just sit back and enjoy the rapture?....im learning i promise . My therapist say i deserve that and that everyone i have chosen in the past is getting closer to The ONE ...well i hope so i aint getting and younger or prettier .BUT I DO WANT TO THINK IM GETTING BETTER AT THE SELECTION PROCESS ,and gaining some wisdom.  I  never could get that melon thumping to get a good one down mom tried to tech me but still i try .So for today I will bask in the googley eyed i love yous and just say thank you and be grateful that once again some thinks that im a good catch and i will put my best foot and heart forward today . I LOVE YOU

This sucks but makes me very happy

Little did I know I could get so excited over a vacuum cleaner…
So after digging dirt of the present bag of  the orange Hoover beetle, as I call her , I finally decided to follow Oprah’s guidelines to prosperity and throw out the old slivers of soap in the shower and go but vacuum cleaners bags when the one is about to explode.
So off  I went to Starks the 78 year old Portland institution for such appliances. Could they have really been making a living selling those for 78 years ? Wow.. So I walk in the door and am stunned at the showroom there must have been 300 models to choose from,,, really? But I was just there to buy a bag ; REMEMBER. So as I tried not to look at the Dyson spaceships, a very cute sales-boy moseyed over to me and asked if I needed help so I chimed right in , yes I need a Hoover a80 bag. He made a face  as if privy to some inside info , how I liked that particular vacuum . And I responded that it kinda sucked , but not very well , it didn’t really suck up Nigel hair very well off cheap Berber carpet. He nodded and asked if it was time to end my obvious frustration and I said maybe …Did I get sucked in that fast? The answer is yes … after a few requirements I gave him he trotted me over to the canister section and pointed to a bright violet colored futuristic looking machine. I immediately thought its so pretty and he so read me.
That kid in 30 seconds had dog hair on the floor had it plugged in and was putting the self-propelled lighted thing in my hand to try .
Wow this really sucked well and it was so quiet …. Not like that cheap embarrassingly loud piece of crap at home that didn’t suck worth a damm . The domestic Goddess kicked in  and convinced
Me  that if I just had that fine machine I would love to vacuum my house and  guess what happened next , yes your right that cute boy loaded into my backseat. But I promise there is more to come about this exquisite machine I cant get over it

Channeling MJ

so i had a dream last night that a friend came up to me and passed me a note at a party , i kinda think my friend is cute so i was very curious as to the note so i went to the bathroom to read it in privacy. when i locked the door and unfolded it i was very surprised as to the contents .... it said " i know this sounds strange to you Michael , but i know you admired M Jacksons creative brilliance and i have acquired is direct number in the Afterlife  and he told me you could call him". Wow i thought and i guess with his money it was not a surprise that he had a toll free number. I folded it back up and tucked it safely in my bag and went back out into the party . I winked and thanked my friend for the special note, and he responded by saying; "call him". After a few days i found the note in my pocket and i wondered just what would happen if i dialed the number..... so of coarse you know what i did next ....So to my surprise someone answered its was a lovely lady that sounded like she was from the south, she asked who i was calling for and i responded its michael for michael and she said "of coarse it is"
she said can i put u on hold for a moment and i said yes maaaam , then all of a sudden i heard "escapade" by his sister and i thought wow is this for real???? then a voice came on the line and said , "hello michael its MJ im running out the door to a nail appointment but i have a minute how can i help you? i said i wanted him to share with me his creative brilliance and he said" thank you , i will send you as much as u want and to call or channel him anytime for advice" . i thanked with all my heart and said i was so flattered that he would take the time to speak with me. "is there anything else  i can help you with?" i thought quickly hmmmmmmmm  fashion advice...NO child rearing? NO hairstyle tips? NO plastic surgeons telephone number HELL NO .
"no i said just your talent and creativity that so many admire and will miss" he giggled and said; "dont worry  there are many brilliant people in the world they just need for you to encourage them , i must run now thank you for calling ...." . "Thank you and pick purple polish it would be a good color for you " i stated , and he said "well you would know! chat soon .....BYE "

Confession

It all started when I was a young and inquisitive child; I have always been intrigued with the unusual, mysterious and inexplicable, which explains my life-long quest for the spiritual. 

My dad liked all kinds of music, and my mother, who had a master's degree in music, always played the piano in our house. Music was a joy, and and a way to communicate and express love and bring folks together.

Through years of Catholic school and church there was one component that actually spoke to me, and that was the music. My mother was the church organist and I got to sit in the choir loft, on the bench next to my mother as she played. 

As I grew into a awkward adolescent, music became my best friend and an escape from the odd world around me. I spent all of my allowance on 45s and later cassettes and 8-tracks. Music became a huge part of my life and has remained that way. 

I love all types of music. I listen mostly to ambient, but love dance music, and always loved any black diva I heard, starting in the '80s drag and disco era, but that's a whole other story! I seriously think it's something from my former life. 

But my secret passion is gospel music! It makes me smile and lifts my spirits. They sing about God and that’s OK; its a celebration of faith. Yolanda Adams' music has gotten me through a lot. Thanks Yolanda! I love you! 

If you haven't heard her, check her out on itunes, or here. 

AIRPORT GOODBYES

SO WHAT IS IT ?

So what is it about those airport goodbyes, when you both don’t know what to say, and have that puppy dog look in your eyes and you want to  say I love you and u cant ,,, is he ready to hear that am I ready to say that.?  It’s all ok when u kiss them good bye and you get up to leave and u walk 20 steps and u turn around and they are not within the reach out and touch them  comfort zone anymore and we lose it. The distance is now in place and the dreaded missing and terror sets in. We try to fight the tears as we board the plane and walk past the front cabin all weepy and everyone wonders if you’re going to a funeral or are you just a crybaby. U sit as fast as u can and put your things down so u can get to that first text message they have already sent from the gate. We fire them back n fourth until the last moment before your about to get in to trouble from the pretty girl in the uniform. As she gets closer to your isle and your heart races because you know what’s coming; as u look up half embarrassed and half dazed, she looks down at u over her glasses and says the dreaded….. With a concerned look on her face “its time” she says in a firm but gentle voice and you know it has to stop until u land at the other end.  As the  screen of the phone goes blank so does your heart , u tuck it away,  take a deep breath  and try to figure out what you are going to do for the next 4 hours besides obsess. Then you’re over stimulated mind starts all the questions, are they crying? , are they glad I’m gone? , will they miss me? will they forget about me? , will I see them again? Oh my god...SHUT UP…..thinks about the carrot, about the carrot, the carrot. What exactly is that????Make it up quick before you start getting misty again and the wing of the plane starts to look good from 10 f. when will I see him again? its only 3 weeks . Oh my god will I make it? LIKE A MOVIE RIGHT?, then suddenly your taxiing down the runway and u want to wail but the girl in the seat next to u already thinks urn going to have to be sedated . . u apologize to her for being a freak and YOU make up some  truly romantic story about why your blotting your eyes with a scarf that u have pulled from around your neck . She smiles with compassion and remains silent. As usual I get a little unnerved as the plane quickly lifts off the ground and I am truly disconnected from the ground and from u; and suddenly as we start to glide upward into the heavens I realize that I am starting to breathe again and I will be OK. Trapped in my seat I start to wonder what you are doing and hope that your heart feels the same way mine does.  A fullness and a huge sense of gratitude  fills my entire body,  grateful for you and the time you have given me to spend with you , all the things I learned and observed ,and  that I have the ability to feel the way I feel , and that I have not denied myself those  feelings. I feel at peace when I realize what has happened the last 2 weeks and happy that I feel joy and excitement about the future, I stare out the window at the snowy mountains and I go into a blissful daze.

BIRTHDAY REFLECTIONS

As I sit this morning having coffee , i was reflecting on this years birthday and had to chuckle at the unexpected adventures the universe tosses us , ....The arabic world is not as it seems , they are the most loving , kind ,generous..... give u the french
3 cheeks kiss , all family and good friends do 4 kiss . You may only use tounge if shrouded in darkness i am told . I am learning some basic fundamental arabic words to comunicate and be polite , and I am teaching them things like hoocie mama, and okie dokie, and some spanish, hola, senora , and everyone here says bonjour, everyone is walking around with french bread baguettes and susan says then u stick it in watever is available .... I said excuse me ? She meant to carry items . If they don't like something they say no fonky donkey in broken english ,like bad donkey....well ok . Last night I learned to dance the classic mans wedding dance ,for what im not sure but they were drinking...and im clearly gay. I was told to keep my terrma (ass) still, while i do the dance ,, trying to add that flair to a rather boring dance. The next day We are riding in the car  looking at the terre  and sand and goats and an occasional mosque and olive tree ,and listening to the BeeGees go shorty , bday  song OMG on my birthday, there were gifts and a cake later ,, it was an amazing birthday

wanted to share this poem with my frends

"Portrait of a Friend"

I can't give solutions to all of life's problems, doubts,
or fears. But I can listen to you, and together we will
search for answers.

I can't change your past with all it's heartache and pain,
nor the future with its untold stories.
But I can be there now when you need me to care.

I can't keep your feet from stumbling.
I can only offer my hand that you may grasp it and not fall.

Your joys, triumphs, successes, and happiness are not mine;
Yet I can share in your laughter.

Your decisions in life are not mine to make, nor to judge;
I can only support you, encourage you,
and help you when you ask.

I can't prevent you from falling away from friendship,
from your values, from me.
I can only pray for you, talk to you and wait for you.

I can't give you boundaries which I have determined for you,
But I can give you the room to change, room to grow,
room to be yourself.

I can't keep your heart from breaking and hurting,
But I can cry with you and help you pick up the pieces
and put them back in place.

I can't tell you who you are.
I can only love you and be your friend

Mood Indigo (or purple, or red, or...)

Mr. Nice Guy lives in an expensive high rise full of old people and middle eastern kids. Laundry facilities are in the basement, and there are security cams everywhere and lots of comings and goings, so I never imagined this happening; Someone dug through the dryer, MY dryer, plucked out all my pretty panties from amongst the dishtowels and bluejeans, and spirited them away. 

I have two questions: 

• How did they know I had fabulous underwear to begin with? Do I look like the type? Maybe that’s a good thing? 
• What is an old lady or 20-something boy from Dubai doing with them?! Ew, Im not sure I want to picture either scenario.

Once I was over the shock and grief, I turned my attention to getting replacements. My favorite pair was a blue number with white banding, and since I hadn't bought them, I always wondered where they came from,  so they had added mystique. They were American Apparel, and as I pondered their parentage, I suddenly remembered there was a store fairy close to my house. Pouting about the expense of a new undergarment wardrobe, I threw on some jeans—with no underwear of course—and swung on over to the AA store.  

A cute, young, obviously gay boy announced to me that he would be my service agent. My imagination went wild. My service agent? Oh really? And to what do I owe this honor? Is it because I have no underwear on? I snapped out of my fantasy and explained my situation. I wanted blue undies with binding. My personal little vixen, er service agent, sauntered towards the back of the store, and as I followed I noticed that despite working in a store surrounded by underwear, he wasn’t wearing any either. 

When I finally looked up, we were standing in front of a whole wall full of the exact underwear I wanted, in every color of the rainbow, each one glowing and pristine in a perfect little see-through pouch. I suddenly had an epiphany that would change my thinking about underwear for the rest of my life: I WILL NOW HAVE MOOD PANTIES!—Like mood rings—red for feisty, blue for serene, purple for cocky, green for money, pink for—well you know—and so on. As I stand there nekkid each morning, I can decide what color reflects my mood and have the panties to match. 

Sensing my needs, my service agent handed me a basket and I piled it high. He asked if I wanted to try them on—sound of car crash—Excuse me? Isn’t that against the law? I guess not in a store with a service boy…. Nonetheless, I declined. He seemed disappointed, and sulked while he rang me up, but I just dashed home with my entire spectrum of undies, eager to figure out which mood I would be in for dinner. 

Check out the rainbow of possibilities