August On The Road

Deep Sea Fishing - What Fun!

2007-07-17T16:01:00.000-07:00

So far, the vacation has focused on New England beach pursuits.

We flew into Logan, and went up to York Beach in Maine. Our first order of business was to get lobster rolls for lunch, then to proceed to the gathering of the Abbott clan at Walter's beach house.

It was great weather until Sunday the 15th, which of course was the day that Elizabeth and Ruth had planned to go deep sea fishing with Walter and Mark.

The consequence? From the web site of the MV Bunny Clark (http://www.bunnyclark.com/update.htm):

Jared Keniston and I ran the full day trip today (Tom Corbett couldn't make the trip - previous commitments). At 5:00 AM EDT, the air temperature was 63°F, the wind was blowing out of the southwest at ten knots, the sky was clear and the visibility was fair to good in haze. It was a lumpy ride to the fishing grounds but easy enough to keep the throttle at full cruise. Once on the grounds, the wind was blowing out of the south at fifteen knots with seas in chops of two to three feet. These conditions kept up all day. The sky remained sunny, the air temperature was warm even with the wind and the visibility was about two to three miles in haze. The sea surface water temperature reached a high of 61.9°F on the fishing grounds. The high air temperature at the Portland International Jetport, Portland, Maine was 77°F (with a low of 62°F) today. In Boston, Massachusetts the high was 90°F (with a low of 68°F) today. Concord, New Hampshire's high temperature was 82°F (with a low of 63°F) today.
The fishing was fair for everyone except Tim Williams (CT). He crept up into the "good" category and caught almost thirty-three percent of the total legal catch (not including dogfish). We really caught mostly dogfish and got into such a mess with them that we lost at least an hour and a half of our precious fishing time trying to get out from under the tangles that they incurred. The tide was running too hard for us to effectively catch fish while drifting so we had to anchor (which also cost us fishing time) where the dogs held us captive and certainly had their way with us on every stop. We also had a few more anglers who succumbed to sea sickness than I would have expected which didn't help the catch rate either. Legal landings of desired fish included mostly pollock and redfish. Landings also included a couple cusk, two legal haddock and two legal cod.

Tim Williams (CT) was the fisherman of the day. He was high hook with nine legal fish and he won the boat pool for the largest fish with the largest fish, a 14 pound pollock. His second largest fish was a 10 pound pollock, the third largest fish of the trip. Paul Potvin (NH) caught the second largest fish, a 10.5 pound pollock. His second fish was an 8.5 pound pollock.

Other Angler Highlights: Steve Benoit (MA), a self proclaimed pollock catcher, caught the first fish of the day, a pollock of about 6 pounds. The only reason I tell you this is that he told me all the way out that this is what he would catch even though I tried to tell him that we haven't been catching pollock as of late! Shows you what the captain knows! Six year old James Temple (NY) caught the second fish of the trip, a 7 pound cusk. His father, Mark Temple (NY), a past cat-2 racing cyclist of some renown, did give James a bit of help but not as much as one would think. Joe Yakel (NY) caught a 9.5 pound pollock. Elizabeth Fitzgerald (OR) won the hard luck award for being high hurler of the trip. James Gajarski (ME) would have taken the award but Elizabeth was just a little bit quicker on the trigger!

Elizabeth says she has exhausted her interest in deep sea fishing.

August Comes Early

2007-07-10T20:33:00.000-07:00

For us, August is coming in July this year.

While on vacation, I will not have access to my usual blog, so I turn again to this temporary summer vacation blog.

Back To My Regular Blog

2005-08-26T11:02:00.000-07:00

I am back to my regular blog.

My safari pictures are here.

Safari Photos

2005-08-19T00:44:00.000-07:00

Some of the photos are at this link:

http://homepage.mac.com/pdxpatfitz/PhotoAlbum18.html

A Magic Day

2005-08-15T00:06:00.000-07:00

We have had any number of excellent days -- successful hunts taking wildebeest, or impala, or kudu. We had other days where our hunt brought no trophies back to the lodge, but we still saw amazing sights and game. Added to the list from previous posts are zebra, rhino, lion, jackal, hyena, waterbuck, bushbuck, duiker. We have seen new life birds including yellow-beaked hornbills and pied cuckoos. Nothing, however, prepared us for Sunday, August 14.

It was early on in our morning hunt, about 7:45 AM, when the PH's spotted a herd of red hartebeest. "Who is most fit to go walk-and-stalk?", asked Hannes. I grinned and pointed at Elizabeth. She gave me the look, then climbed out of the bakkie and disappeared into the bush with Carl and Hannes.

About 25 minutes later, we heard a single shot, in the distance. After a wait, Hannes emerged emerged from the bush, showing me a bit thumbs-up. He was excited as he climbed into the bakkie.

"That was a HUGE red hartebeest. He must have been very old. I have never seen one that large before. We set up the shooting sticks for her, waited for him to step out into the clearing, and then she made the perfect shot, right through the heart. He went only 7 metres, and then fell down, as dead as can be."

Elizabeth was thrilled with her first success as a hunter. She did not yet know that this particular red hartebeest would probably put her in the record books among the top 5 or 10 women in the world, once properly dried, measured, and certified.

Flush with her success, we hunted until late in the morning, when the PH's spotted a large warthog in the distance. "Come, Elizabeth," they said, and the three of them scrambled from the bakkie to begin the stalk. Hannes took my video camera, to capture this hunt on video. They again disappeared into the bush. The video shows them walking single file, at times bending low to avoid being seen or looking human, until Carl set up the shooting sticks for Elizabeth.

She looked through her scope, and felt a bit shaky after the stalk. "Can I have another minute?", she asked Carl. "No, you must take him now," Carl replied. She squeezed the trigger, and the video showed a good hit. We all scrambled out to join the tracking, but were not really needed as we only had to track the warthog for about 20 metres, before finding him dead as can be. It was another single shot kill. She had placed the bullet just as Carl told her, behind the last rib on the animal which was quartering away from her.

We dropped Pete, the tracker, and Philippe, the skinner at a place where they could skin the animals and place them in a cooler, and went to lunch.

Our afternoon started as well as our morning had. It was my turn to walk and stalk, and I was able to put a very nice gemsbok down, no tracking required. The usual posing for pictures and we were back in the bakkie.

What followed was an extraordinary afternoon for seeing kudu bulls. The kudu is called the Gray Ghost by some, and not all clients who want kudus will see them. This afternoon, we saw at least 45 kudu bulls. One particular bull had the PH's going wild in the back of the truck, as they begged me to shoot him. I declined, saying "One kudu per family," and they were beside themselves. "He is at least 60 inches. You may never see this again in your lifetime." They tried to talk Elizabeth into shooting it, and she declined. I was resolute, and they were biting their knuckles as we moved on.

We moved along, seeing some wonderful sights. Large herds of red hartebeest running back and forth across the plain, and through the brush. Kudu everywhere. A very large waterbuck gazed at us from a moderate distance.

Suddenly the PH's were practically falling off the truck again. "That is a HUGE impala! Elizabeth, do you see him?" She was pretty worn out by this point in the whole adventure. She raised her rifle and peered through the scope. "I don't see him." Arms were quickly extended over her shoulder by the PH's and by Pete, the tracker, to help her find it. "Right there, by that yellow tree. He is looking right at us. He will soon run. You must take him quickly."

She still couldn't focus. "I can't see him." I thought the PH's were going to have a stroke, in their excitement to see this monster impala taken by a client of theirs. I tried to use a very calm voice, and asked, "Elizabeth, would you mind if I took the shot?" She looked very relieved, and said, "Go right ahead."

One shot and a 25 metre stalk later, we were marveling over the size of the impala. 25.5 inches on one side, 26.25 inches on the other. The PH's informed me that I had fortunately managed to join my daughter on the lists of people who had taken world class animals. Once again, there were many pictures taken on the PH's cameras as well as my camera. "That is the largest impala I have ever taken with a client, or myself for that matter," Hannes said. "That is the largest impala I have seen," said Carl.

We returned to the lodge late, about 8:15 PM. The cook had put up diner for us in the warmer, and gone home already. Carl showed the others at the lodge, Jessica, Nick, and Neil our videos from the day. After dinner we sat around the fire outside the dining room, and discussed the day. Across the Limpopo River, in Botswana, we could hear the intermittent rumble of a leopard. After a bit, one of the baboons made a mistake, and we heard the leopard having a meal while the baboons who had not made a mistake shrieked in protest.

As we were going to bed, Carl told us, "I have never had this successful a day with a client before."

Certainly his clients had never before had a day like this, either.

In Which Elizabeth Is Bitten By A Lion And Lives To Tell

2005-08-14T23:07:00.000-07:00

And we even have it on video.

We took a break from hunting, and Judy took us to Mama Tau, a white lion rescue and breeding project.

At Mama Tau, we were met by Beverly. She introduced us to Chance, an orphaned white lion cub who was still being bottle-fed. Elizabeth was thrilled when Beverly asked is she would like to sit and hold him. Chance crawled all over Elizabeth, and mouthed her much as a puppy will. We took a bazillion pictures as Elizabeth and then Judy took turns holding the cub.

After a lot of that, Elizabeth finally got a little bit more of a nip, but nothing that made her stop playing with the animal. On the way out, I asked her to show me her lion bite. She had to think hard to remember which was the lion nip, and which were the marks from all the thorns in the bushveldt.

Bitten by a lion, and lived to tell.

Blue Wildebeest

2005-08-12T22:51:00.000-07:00

The internet connections here in the bushveldt are slow and a bit dodgy. This post was to have been posted after the one about arriving in Johannesburg, and before the one about unwlecome words to the PH. I won't be surprised if several copies of this one suddenly appear.

------------------
For our first hunt, my PH, Carl, enlisted the help of another PH, Hannes.

We used Hannes' vehicle, or "bakkie", outfitted with a hunting rack. The hunting rack occupies the bed of the small pickup truck, with seats for the clients just behind the cab, rifle racks, and padded bars to the front and side of the seats which may be used as arm or rifle rests.

Hannes was a very interesting fellow, very Teutonic in appearance, very energetic. He had a 9mm pistol in his belt, and placed his battered Remington Model 700 in .375 H&H, topped with Schmidt and Bender scope, in the rifle rack.

We went to property owned by Lollie Fourie, where we saw kudu, eland, gemsbok, wildebeest, warthog, and giraffe. The PH's spotted a wildebeest herd which had a very large bull, and the hunt was on. We kept getting glimpses of the bull, but no shooting opportunities. Finally, the herd was passing through some brush where there was a bit of a window. The PH's told me to take aim on that window, and be ready for the bull to pass. "He is coming, he is coming ... 7 metres, ... 3 metres, ... take him! Take him quickly!"

I took aim on the front shoulder, and squeezed the trigger just as he started to turn away. He appeared to fall and roll in a cloud of dust, rolling behind some bush. The PH's were happy, saying "That is a good shot! He may be down!"

We hurried over behind the bush with Pete, the tracker. There was blood, and tracks, ... but no wildebeest. Now the work started.

Pete and the PH's followed the tracks, stopping often to confer in Afrikaans. At one point the wildebeest stopped to rest and bellow. Hannes walked, stooping low, with his rifle held behind his back as if to hide it from the animals (or perhaps to protect it from the thornbushes?). The wildebeest then ran a bit further, and Hannes and Pete ran after it. A call came out in Afrikaans, and Carl said to me, "Come quickly! Quickly!" What I came to learn is that in PH-speak this means, "Please come here and kill this animal before I have to chase it some more."

I followed Carl and arrived, winded, at the spot Hannes and Pete had taken, about 30 metres from the wildebeest, which was under a tree. I took aim and shot, and had my first African trophy. The ritual of posing the animal and hunters for pictures followed.

Hannes' bakkie had a folddown tailgate with rollers on the bars, to help in rolling the large animal into the back of the truck. We all mounted up for the ride to the fellow with the facilities for skinning and meatcutting.

On the way, Hannes asked me, "Would you like a beer?" I replied, "No, it's too early." I realized from his reaction that what I had really been asked was, "With your kill, are you through hunting for this afternoon?" and that my reply had been taken to mean that I wanted to hunt further. We took a circuitous route looking for more animals, but darkness fell, and we were done.

At the lodge that night, a large group of investors in the ranch were present for dinner. Although most of the chatter was in Afrikaans, they toasted my success in English, and erupted in approval when I spoke the only phrase of Afrikaans I knew, meaning "thank you very much," pronounced phonetically as "buy-a-donkey."

Blue Wildebeest

2005-08-12T22:50:00.000-07:00

For our first hunt, my PH, Carl, enlisted the help of another PH, Hannes.

We used Hannes' vehicle, or "bakkie", outfitted with a hunting rack. The hunting rack occupies the bed of the small pickup truck, with seats for the clients just behind the cab, rifle racks, and padded bars to the front and side of the seats which may be used as arm or rifle rests.

Hannes was a very interesting fellow, very Teutonic in appearance, very energetic. He had a 9mm pistol in his belt, and placed his battered Remington Model 700 in .375 H&H, topped with Schmidt and Bender scope, in the rifle rack.

We went to property owned by Lollie Fourie, where we saw kudu, eland, gemsbok, wildebeest, warthog, and giraffe. The PH's spotted a wildebeest herd which had a very large bull, and the hunt was on. We kept getting glimpses of the bull, but no shooting opportunities. Finally, the herd was passing through some brush where there was a bit of a window. The PH's told me to take aim on that window, and be ready for the bull to pass. "He is coming, he is coming ... 7 metres, ... 3 metres, ... take him! Take him quickly!"

I took aim on the front shoulder, and squeezed the trigger just as he started to turn away. He appeared to fall and roll in a cloud of dust, rolling behind some bush. The PH's were happy, saying "That is a good shot! He may be down!"

We hurried over behind the bush with Pete, the tracker. There was blood, and tracks, ... but no wildebeest. Now the work started.

Pete and the PH's followed the tracks, stopping often to confer in Afrikaans. At one point the wildebeest stopped to rest and bellow. Hannes walked, stooping low, with his rifle held behind his back as if to hide it from the animals (or perhaps to protect it from the thornbushes?). The wildebeest then ran a bit further, and Hannes and Pete ran after it. A call came out in Afrikaans, and Carl said to me, "Come quickly! Quickly!" What I came to learn is that in PH-speak this means, "Please come here and kill this animal before I have to chase it some more."

I followed Carl and arrived, winded, at the spot Hannes and Pete had taken, about 30 metres from the wildebeest, which was under a tree. I took aim and shot, and had my first African trophy. The ritual of posing the animal and hunters for pictures followed.

Hannes' bakkie had a folddown tailgate with rollers on the bars, to help in rolling the large animal into the back of the truck. We all mounted up for the ride to the fellow with the facilities for skinning and meatcutting.

On the way, Hannes asked me, "Would you like a beer?" I replied, "No, it's too early." I realized from his reaction that what I had really been asked was, "With your kill, are you through hunting for this afternoon?" and that my reply had been taken to mean that I wanted to hunt further. We took a circuitous route looking for more animals, but darkness fell, and we were done.

At the lodge that night, a large group of investors in the ranch were present for dinner. Although most of the chatter was in Afrikaans, they toasted my success in English, and erupted in approval when I spoke the only phrase of Afrikaans I knew, meaning "thank you very much," pronounced phonetically as "buy-a-donkey."

Unwelcome Words From Your PH

2005-08-12T22:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we were seated in a blind made from tree limbs and brush, hunting for a good kudu bull.

I had been watching several at a distance through my scope, waiting for the best one to come to a spot where I had a good shot. That is when the PH whispered words, in his Afrikaner accent, which I found unwelcome:

"You must remain very still. The buffalo is coming."

Getting To Africa

2005-08-08T02:56:00.000-07:00

The first step was getting from Portland to Johannesburg.

This involved taking a flight from Portland to San Francisco, leaving at 7 pm on Friday night. At 10 PM we caught the red-eye from San Francisco to Washington (Dulles), arriving at about 6 am Saturday morning.

The waiting area for the South African airways flight from Dulles to Johannesburg was interesting. One group of people included a young man who was a ringer for Clive Owen, with the curly dark hair, the dark stubble, and the sleepy yet somehow leonine eyes. The illusion suffered a bit when, without being the least self-conscious, he reached deep into his nose, removed a wad of nasal mucous, inspected it, and flicked it to the floor.

At about 8:45 am, we got on the 747 for Johannesburg. We had bulkhead seats on the upper deck, sharing them with a woman who was a retired nurse educator. She was traveling with a group of 19 young women, many of them apparently couples if one is to judge by the public displays of affection. Her daughter was to marry her partner in a ceremony to take place in the Krueger game reserve.

Our first hints that we were not flying an American airline came with the first meal service. The food was actually good, and the silverware included a metal tableknife.

The flight from Dulles to Johannesburg was in excess of 18 hours. Every passenger was given a packet with warm fuzzy socks, an eye shade, a toothbrush, and toothpaste ("Aerodent"). Every 3 or 4 hours they would come through the cabin with a meal. The food quality continued to beat the pants off anything I've seen from American airlines. Every seat had it's own video screen and remote control, offering a selection of movies, TV shows, music, and video games.

We landed once in Accra, Ghana, to refuel, change crews, and take on passengers. Then we arrived in Johannesburg at about 7:30 am on Sunday morning.

The most interesting part of the process of passport and customs checks was going through the South African Police office to obtain the permit to bring in the firearms for the hunt. That involved presenting copies of passports, proof from US Customs of ownership of the guns, formal letters from the Professional Hunter explaining that we were invited to hunt particular species on particular dates, and a completed 12 page with the details of the rifles, serial numbers, ammunition, and personal information. The police compared the serial numbers to ensure they matched, and then without further customs inspections of any sort we wheeled our gear through customs and to the lobby, where Ivan was waiting for us.

Voila. We are here.

August 2005 - Going On Safari

2005-08-03T00:37:00.000-07:00

Once again, I am going on a trip for much of August which will take me away from my usual blog site. If I have internet access at all, I will be able to post from here.

This year, I am going on safari, in South Africa. This is a dream that I was afraid to let myself have, for a long time. I decided that this would be a suitable 50th birthday present to myself, rather than one of those desultory affairs with black balloons and gag gifts relating to advanced age.

Every winter in Portland, there is a Sportsman's Show, where guides and professional hunters are among those vying for the attention of those who want an experience out of the ordinary. I wanted to take my 12 year old daughter with me on this trip, and she joined me in going to the Sportsman's Show to audition the different outfits. We went to each of the booths offering African adventures, and posed the same scenario: I wanted to give myself a safari as a birthday present, and wanted to take my daughter as my "chief observer." Then we waited for the reaction.

The most common reaction would be that they would flash a smile towards my daughter, and then proceed to ignore her for the rest of the spiel. One fellow seemed like he would be great to hunt with, if only adults were in attendance. Another young man made a presentation which was nervous and a little sad, focusing on the fact that if you booked with his family, the airfare was included in the price. Then we talked to Ivan and Judy.

Ivan and Judy Bezuidenhout run Cambridge Safaris (http://camsaf.co.za/). They seemed genuinely enthusiastic about the idea of a father bringing his daughter, and could visualize and explain what such a trip could look like for each of us. My bullshit meter never twitched while we were talking. We got references to check. Like all well selected references, their description of their experience and their desire to go back with Ivan and Judy again made us feel we were on the right track. We booked the trip, and we fly out of Portland on Sunday, to fly into Johannesburg on Sunday.

Test - Getting ready for August 2005

2005-07-14T14:17:00.000-07:00

In preparation for being away from my usual blog in August of 2005, I am testing to make sure that this blog still works.

Pat Fitzgerald

Bedside Manner

2004-09-24T11:20:00.000-07:00

George Bush reminds me of a story they told us in medical school.

A doctor with great bedside manner and terrible judgement rushed to the bedside of the patient, where all the family was in attendance.

He decided the patient needed intravenous potassium. Rather than dripping it in slowly, he pushed it in all at once, causing the patient's immediate death.

Bedside manner intact, he turned to the family and said, "If only I'd gotten here a moment sooner."

Osama vs George - What's The Score?

2004-09-02T14:47:00.000-07:00

For all of George's "I'm going to kick ass and take names" bluster, he has failed to knock Osama out. It is not clear who is ahead on points in this bout.

Osama has obliged us to spend monstrous amounts of money on security, and has enticed us into spending even greater sums on military adventures. This has changed us from a country deciding how to invest a surplus into a country going massively into debt. We will have to balance the books someday, and that will require forgoing any number of worthy uses of our resources.

Osama has changed the U.S. from a country with a Bill of Rights into a country with secret police, secret courts, secret warrants, secret searches, secret evidence which cannot be confronted, and detention without charges.

Insert poignant ending statement here.

Plus, ca change ....

2004-08-25T14:13:00.000-07:00

H.L. Mencken, quoted in the 9/04 "Funny Times":

"The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by an endless series of hobogblins, most of them imaginary."

A tip of the hat to Bill Watson, aka "Bob Cratchett"

Perusing The Books While Visiting

2004-08-22T18:26:00.000-07:00

You know how you will check out the books on the shelf when visiting a home?

I don't know if I should have been concerned tonight when my hostess had "Meditations For Women Who Do Too Much" right next to "The Encyclopedia Of Serial Killers."

Another Argument For School Vouchers

2004-08-20T16:48:00.000-07:00

From a chain of private schools which enrolls a large number of immigrants:

"... the curriculum consisted of a slim workbook riddled with errors, including:

_The United States has 53 states but the "flag has not yet been updated to reflect the addition of the last three states" ? Hawaii, Alaska and Puerto Rico.

_World War II began in 1938 and ended in 1942.

_There are two houses of Congress ? the Senate and the House, and "one is for Democrats and the other is for the Republicans, respectively."

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=519&ncid=519&e=4&u=/ap/20040809/ap_on_re_us/private_school_investigation

Fascinating Conversation - Part 2

2004-08-19T22:33:00.000-07:00

"You ever do any ropin', boy?"

"No, sir."

"When I first came here, I was about the only one that could do it. Used to make some money now and again, when someone had an animal they needed to get a rope on."

"Where did you learn to rope?"

"My daddy taught me. In Amarillo. You ever been in Amarillo?" He looked at me with a hopeful expression. "That's in Texas. You ever worked any spreads out there?"

"When I was in Texas, I was just passing through. I never worked in Texas."

"I taught David to ride and rope. He wasn't that good at ropin', but he did alright. Rode pretty good. I started him out riding at 6 weeks old. Still had to hold on to him then, though."

"In Texas, the ones that was the best would have schools on ridin' and ropin'. That's the way to learn it, from them's that's best at it. They'll have something to show you."

"I used to be pretty good at it. Used to compete in rodeos, in the SRA and all. Got to bother me when they'a announce, 'and now the oldest competitor.' I was still competing when I was 71. I'm 80-something now." He gave me an appraising glance, apparently thinking that a boy this size must have done something worthwhile. "You ever wrestle any steers?"

"No, sir, I never did."

"You grab ahold of some of them steers, it doesn't shake them up at all. You can get your boot heels drug a long ways."

At this point I realize that I abandoned my lunch at the communal table some time ago, but this is a conversation I don't get to have every day.

(e-mailed again to beat the system timing out, more installments later)

A Fascinating Conversation

2004-08-19T22:10:00.000-07:00

I was at lunch at Dee's, in Fincastle, Virginia.

Dee's is a phenomenon worthy of several stories of it's own. It is pretty much the only viable lunch place in town. On days when the county court is in session, several of the lawyers may be in attendance. On other days, the table is ruled by those who have found honest work. The conversations range far and wide, and the slow cadence of southern accents disguises sharp wits and a love of verebal rough and tumble.

Today's treat was unexpected. While I was eating my lunch, Alice Crowder called me over to meet an elderly man standing in the middle of the small restaraunt floor. He was a tall man, whose spine was no longer quite straight, either front to back or side to side. He wore a Stetson which had some dirt on the brim but still appeared to be cared for. He supported himself with a cane in his right hand, and frequently steadied himself by holding my upper arm with is left.

Alice beamed. "Patrick, do you remember this man?"

I did not. "You're going to have to help me."

"This is Bruce Friend." She deemed this sufficient introduction, and disappeared back into the kitchen, her mission accomplished.

I scrolled through my memories of Fincastle. David Friend, the catcher on my Little League baseball team, lived out on the Blacksburg Road, on the north side of the road before you got to the Wheatland Road.

"I played Little League baseball with David Friend. That your boy?"

"My boy David is 50 years old now." Shakes his head. "Lives far away from here. Calls me every year. He's a good boy."

"My girl lives in Hawaii. She calls me twice a year. I haven't been to see her. Can't swim, I just know how to wade, and I reckon it would get too deep."

"You do any ropin', boy?"

It really made me feel good to be called "boy". It isn't every day that I am viewed as young, and it was said in an affectionate manner rather than as a diminutive.

(e-mail system warns me it is timing out -- I will send this to capture it and begin the next installment)

Bush Shadows Kerry Campaign

2004-08-18T19:25:00.000-07:00

People note that Bush and Kerry frequently campaign in close proximity to each other.

Here is an e-mail from Portland Oregon about the duplication there:

Hi Folks,

I am so proud of the folks in Portland!!!!!

President Bush scheduled a visit to PDX on the same day as John Kerry's planned visit to our fair city. He did so after knowing of Kerry's schedule and kept his itinerary secret until 24 hours of his arrival. His two functions were not open to the public, they were behind closed doors by special invitation ONLY to the rich of the Republican party. They made a point to schedule his major speech at the same time as John Kerry's speech at Water Front Park Rally; so local T.V. and radio covered the president live and they had to do a tape delay of John Kerry's speech.

This kind of action reminds me of Fascist Europe of 60 plus years ago!!

John Kerry's Rally was free, open to the public and 50,000 plus Portlanders showed up at Water Front Part to support John Kerry. I am proud to have been one of them.

Chicken and Dumplings Recipe

2004-08-15T12:40:00.000-07:00

Mu sister-in-law, a Southern woman, requested a birthday dinner of Chicken & Dumplings while vacationing with her husband's Boston relatives. We used this recipe:

CHICKEN AND DUMPLINGS
4 pounds chicken parts
1 cup all-purpose flour, seasoned with salt and pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
6 leeks (white and pale green parts only), sliced thin crosswise and washed thoroughly (about 2 cups)
6 shallots, sliced thin (about 1 cup)
6 carrots, peeled, halved lengthwise, and sliced
2 celery ribs with leaves, sliced
1 small bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme, crumbled
3 1/2 cups low-salt chicken broth
1/2 cup apple cider or juice

For dumplings
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons minced fresh dill
1 cup plus 3 tablespoons half-and-half

1 cup green peas, defrosted if frozen

Dredge chicken parts in seasoned flour, shaking off excess, and put on a rack.

In a large heavy kettle melt butter with oil over moderately high heat until foam subsides and brown chicken in batches (do not crowd), transferring it to a plate as done, about 5 minutes on each side.

Stir in leeks and shallots and cook 3 minutes, scraping the bottom and stirring occasionally. Stir in carrots, celery, bay leaf, and thyme and cook 3 minutes. Stir in broth, cider, and chicken and bring liquid to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered partially, until chicken is cooked through, 10 to 15 minutes.

Make dumplings while chicken is cooking:
Into a bowl sift together flour, cornmeal, baking powder, and salt and stir in dill. With a fork stir in half-and-half until dough is just blended.

With a large soup spoon scoop out 12 dumplings and arrange over chicken mixture. Simmer chicken and dumplings, covered, 9 minutes. Sprinkle in peas and cook until dumplings are done, about 3 minutes more. (Dumplings are done when a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean.) Discard bay leaf.

Serves 6.

Gourmet
February 1994

Chicken & Dumplings

2004-08-15T12:31:00.001-07:00

Chicken & Dumplings

2004-08-15T12:31:00.000-07:00

My sister-in-law, a Southern woman, had requested a birthday dinner of Chicken & Dumplings while vacationing in Boston. We used this recipe:

CHICKEN AND DUMPLINGS
4 pounds chicken parts
1 cup all-purpose flour, seasoned with salt and pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
6 leeks (white and pale green parts only), sliced thin crosswise and washed thoroughly (about 2 cups)
6 shallots, sliced thin (about 1 cup)
6 carrots, peeled, halved lengthwise, and sliced
2 celery ribs with leaves, sliced
1 small bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme, crumbled
3 1/2 cups low-salt chicken broth
1/2 cup apple cider or juice

For dumplings
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons minced fresh dill
1 cup plus 3 tablespoons half-and-half

1 cup green peas, defrosted if frozen

Dredge chicken parts in seasoned flour, shaking off excess, and put on a rack.

In a large heavy kettle melt butter with oil over moderately high heat until foam subsides and brown chicken in batches (do not crowd), transferring it to a plate as done, about 5 minutes on each side.

Stir in leeks and shallots and cook 3 minutes, scraping the bottom and stirring occasionally. Stir in carrots, celery, bay leaf, and thyme and cook 3 minutes. Stir in broth, cider, and chicken and bring liquid to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, covered partially, until chicken is cooked through, 10 to 15 minutes.

Make dumplings while chicken is cooking:
Into a bowl sift together flour, cornmeal, baking powder, and salt and stir in dill. With a fork stir in half-and-half until dough is just blended.

With a large soup spoon scoop out 12 dumplings and arrange over chicken mixture. Simmer chicken and dumplings, covered, 9 minutes. Sprinkle in peas and cook until dumplings are done, about 3 minutes more. (Dumplings are done when a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean.) Discard bay leaf.

Serves 6.

Gourmet
February 1994

********************

Comments:

1) Would have worked better with boneless chicken parts. A lot of people wanted less chicken than a whole piece, and found it a bit unwieldy to wrestle with.

2) The vegetables and broth left at the end of the whole process would make a great soup base.

The Trip Begins

2004-08-13T09:22:00.000-07:00

For the first time in 3 years, Northwest Airlines didn't strand us in Minneapolis or Detroit for the night. We actually arrived in Boston on time.

Notable events so far have included the birthday dinner of chicken and dumplings for Aunt Beth. Most of the Yankee relatives looked at it uncertainly, rather like tourists in Asia viewing fish or shellfish that they have never seen before in their life. To their credit, there were no leftovers.

The Red Sox game at Fenway was a treat. The Sox beat up on the Devil Rays, with both coaches clearing their benches by the 5th or 6th inning.

Now we are in Maine, reducing the lobster population.

It is kind of nice to go several days in a row without being outraged by national politics. Ignorance can be bliss, until the bill comes due.

Intelligence Stream Raises Terror Alerts

2004-08-05T09:21:00.000-07:00

Based on intelligence from the Pacific Rim, the Department of Homeland Security has raised the threat level to Orange for the state of Hawaii.

Special attention is being given to the naval facilities at Pearl Harbor, on Oahu. Senior officials noted concerns about an air attack, based on some Japanese files speaking of a "divine wind" which would strike those bases. The officials indicated that the files were contained in a public library computer which had been used by an Islamic man.

The Manchurian Candidate - A Review

2004-08-04T20:00:00.000-07:00

For those who read movie reviews to decide which movies to see, let's cut to the chase. This movie is worth seeing.

This Jonathan Demme film is the best sort of remake. The John Frankenheimer film told a chilling story. Demme avoided the trap of reshooting the same film. He molded the story to fit modern times and politics. The acting is excellent. Meryl Streep may see an Oscar nomination for best supporting actress in her role. It is amusing to note how many reviewers are referring to her performance as "channeling for Angela Lansbury," transmogrifying Mrs. Iselin from the 1962 film to the Senator Eleanor Prentiss Shaw of Demme's film. Demme lays the visuals out very effectively.

The only problem I am having is keeping Manchurian Global and Halliburton straight.

Political Discourse

2004-08-03T18:11:00.000-07:00

Published on my home blog page 5/24/2004:

There is little political discourse today. Everyone speaks to those who agree with them. I thought I would pull up something from the other ideological bunker, and consider what was said.

For that purpose, I went to the National Review Online. The column Impromptus by NR Managing Editor Jay Nordlinger looked interesting, touching on a number of topics.

The first is to argue that because of same-sex marriage, “the Salvation Army may have to leave New York. Why? Because the city may force it to offer employee benefits to gay partners, and the Salvation Army is . . . well, a religious organization (and a traditionally religious one).”

Set aside whether the Salvation Army’s threat to leave New York is political posturing. See first the language of compulsion, not choice. This is used selectively. Welfare mothers choose not to work, in the conservative formulation. The Salvation Army may threaten to leave New York, may choose to leave New York, but are they forced to leave New York?

Let’s back up a step. The issue is employee benefits for partners of homosexual employees. Is the Salvation Army forced to have homosexual employees? Is that a violation of their religious beliefs? Why is that less onerous than providing benefits? It couldn’t be about … money, could it?

This segues to:

“I have said before in this column that the gay-marriage debate seems to be lost (i.e., that the anti side seems to have lost). For one thing, all the elites support gay marriage, no matter what the majority may think (and the majority is not aroused). Virtually every employee of the big media supports it; virtually every Hollywood actor; virtually every pop singer; virtually every professor — etc. And what the elites want, the elites usually get, in my observation. (They haven't yet stopped the war, have they? But they may be getting close.)”

When last I checked, conservatives controlled both houses of Congress, the White House and with it the Justice Department, the military, and the intelligence community. The Supreme Court is certainly no enemy to conservatives.

Note carefully the description of the political opposition to conservatives as “all the elites.”
Let’s talk about elites.

George Herbert Walker was one of the most important investment bankers in the Mississippi Valley. His ties to Robert Brookings and Averell Harriman led to his installation as president of the new Wall Street investment banking firm W. A. Harriman and Company, which invested heavily in German industry until Hitler made things difficult.

Samuel Bush’s father was the first Bush to attend Yale. Samuel went to Yale. Samuel was the head of Buckeye Steel Castings, and through this had ties to the Rockefellers, Standard Oil, and National City Bank.

Samuel’s son. Prescott Bush , went to Yale, where he was in Skull and Bones. Prescott Bush married George Herbert Walker’s daughter. He was brought in as a vice president at W.A. Harriman and Company in 1926. He ultimately became a managing partner of Brown Brothers Harriman, and sat on the boards of CBS, Prudential Insurance, Pan American Airlines, Dresser Industries, and others.

Their son, George Herbert Walker Bush, went to Yale, where he was in Skull and Bones. After graduation he was placed in Dresser Industries, where his father had been on the board for eighteen years, and whose chairman was also Yale grad and Skull and Bones member.

His son, George Walker Bush, went to Yale, where he was in Skull and Bones. After his Air National Guard stint, he went to work for an agribusiness company run by a fellow Yale Skull and Bones member who had worked with his father at Zapata Petroleum.

Elites?

Gee, this has been fun. Let's do it again soon.

Creating a blog home away from home

2004-08-03T17:50:00.000-07:00

Like France, I will be on the road for most of August. My regular blog will not be accessible, so I am creating this site for blogging while on the road.