Grilled cheesy adventure

Laaaast Christmas I bought one of those "half price deals" from a radio station website and put it in my husband's stocking. The gift certificate was for a restaurant called The Grilled Cheese Grill, which I had never heard of. But it sounded right up our alley because a) we love grilled cheese sandwiches and the ad implied that this place expands the culinary delight to new heights, b) they are open very late, and the idea of a midnight run for grilled cheese is the kind of thing that we would have totally done back before we had a child sleeping, and c) the restaurant is in a bus. Yeah.

The problem is, The Grilled Cheese Grill is located far on the other side of town where we rarely have business, too far to reasonably drive just to get a grilled cheese sandwich, even if it is served in a school bus.

Fast forward to thiiiiiis year, when I was contemplating how to celebrate Gary's birthday. We tend to honor birthdays by doing something more often than giving something.  My friend Sarah gave me the idea to check out Ape Cave, and while researching, I figured out that The Grilled Cheese Grill is only a few blocks off the path to get there. It was the perfect excuse to use the gift certificate and try a fun, new place for a special birthday lunch. And the best part is, I discovered that the certificate I had purchased was going to expire at the end of the month, so the timing could not have been better!

As we walked along the sidewalk in Northeast Portland toward our surprise destination, we encountered this:

In case it isn't clear, that is a wooden utility pole covered with a four-inch layer of damp flyers.  They had been partially torn off to provide this stunning cross-section of so many lost kitties, grunge band performances, and bikes for sale. I love this picture. 

The Grilled Cheese Grill was everything I had hoped for and then some. The concept of a mostly-outdoor restaurant doesn't usually swoon me in early November, but at least it wasn't raining. 

In addition to the outdoor picnic tables, this old school bus had been converted into a dining area as well.  The entire ceiling is painted with a semi-frightening mural the title of which might be "Otto's acid trip."  We found ourselves fielding questions like, "Mommy, why doesn't that cat have a head?" and "Ha ha! That skeleton is wearing pants!"

While we waited for our sandwiches to be grilled, Madelyn played bus driver. She is wearing those hideous silver sparkly shoes. We hate them, she loves them. What are you gonna do?

And then. And THEN. Our glorious grilled cheese sandwiches were served. Mine was called the BABS: bacon, apples, bleu cheese, and swiss on rye.  This taste sensation might be enough to make me say OMG, if only I were not fundamentally opposed to uttering that abomination. I will say that it was so yummy that tomato soup dipping was unnecessary. Gary got The Pops with ham, tomato, havarti, and honey mustard on Dave's Killer Cracked Wheat. We wanted to get the requisite tomato soup of course, plus a kids' grilled cheese for Madelyn. A la carte, this would have cost $21.75 (actually not a bad deal for a 3-person lunch). But they have this cleverly titled special called  Fromage a Trois where you get three sandwiches ("one for me, one for you, one to split") plus two soups or two chips for $17.50. So instead of the kids' sandwich, we got The Gabby, which features four cheeses, to share with Madelyn. Our gift certificate was a $20 value, and of course they don't give change, so the $1.75 charge to add ham to Gary's choice brought us up to $19.25--perfect!

The food was delicious and the concept so unique and fun that we'd consider driving all the way over there. Just for a Grilled Cheese Grill grilled cheese sandwich. Because I still really want to try The Jalapeño Popper and The Hot Brie. Plus--and this is a BIG plus--they also have sweet grilled cheese sandwiches.  Various combinations of brie, Nutella, marscarpone, bananas,and peanut butter grilled between cinnamon swirl or white bread. You can even add bacon to create The Fat Elvis. Yes, we will definitely need to venture out to The Grilled Cheese Grill again. 

Frozen legs

It was 32 degrees outside this morning. So I ran eight miles.

Of course, "so" is not the proper coordinating conjunction here; perhaps "yet" would be more appropriate. Sunday morning is about the only time I can semi-conveniently fit in a run longer than 3-4 miles, so I guard the opportunity vigilantly, even when my well-meaning husband tries to encourage me to stay in bed.

Running outside when the temperature is near freezing (or at, in this case) is a very peculiar sensation, at least to me. My skin is tingly-numb from the biting cold, even under my layers and highly functional but not glamorous free running gloves. But my muscles, primarily quads and hamstrings--not the entire body, are saturated with internal warmth from the exertion and resulting circulation being directed there away from my extremities.

It reminds me of a reverse incarnation of Lisa Simpson's fish sticks: "They're burned on the outside but they're frozen on the inside, so it balances out!"

My daughter, the magician

I would have thought this feat impossible, as a simple knowledge of solid matter, time, and space would suggest.  But Madelyn either found a way to defy them all, or has mastered the fine art of performance illusion. 

We had just returned from picking Madelyn up at preschool.  I set her new Mickey Mouse plate on the kitchen table, and Madelyn climbed up into the stool to survey the various options portioned out between Mickey's big head and two little round ears.

Madelyn was fully dressed from her morning at school, including the Hello Kitty underwear she likes in spite of the fact that they really are too big. As she climbed up on her stool, I was reminded of the way they constantly stick out above her pants and look a little silly.  But looking a little silly is low on my list of concerns while trying to navigate the treacherous parental waters with an opinionated 3-year-old.

While Madelyn began picking at her lunch, I turned around toward the counter to put the finishing touches on my own sandwich before joining her.  My back was turned for approximately eight seconds before I heard Madelyn dismount her stool and shout, "My underwear came off!"

Incredulous, I turned around to see her running gleefully toward me, holding above her head the very underwear that I had noticed on her body, under her jeans, only moments before.  I was speechless. What could I say? I would have laughed except I was busy trying to figure out how it could have possibly been accomplished! And then, how could I possibly not play THIS scene in my head?:

See the expression on Bart's face while Grampa reads his underwear? I can relate.

My assumption is that when she used the restroom by herself at school, her pants and underwear fell off her dangling feet. When she put them back on, she got her feet into the pants holes, but didn't line them up with the underwear holes, so her underwear was simply riding along behind her, tucked neatly inside her jeans. The error wasn't noticeable since this particular pair always looks that sloppy.

One to add to my collection

In case you don't know, I am a very serious fan of The Simpsons. I distinctly remember the weeks of advertising leading up to the series premiere in December 1989, and then eagerly gathering around the television with my entire family to watch that famous first episode, "Simpsons Roasting on an Open Fire." My eight-year-old self latched onto this cartoon family and I feel like we basically grew up together. My personal character developed alongside those of Springfield USA, and as I matured, so did the show. I would say that I credit much of my own sense of humor to The Simpsons, except that I think the more apt analysis is that the series shaped what is considered humorous across popular culture in general. As a long-term fan, I notice the Simpsons' influence in so many movies, TV shows, radio jabber, and more.

The fact that I have seen every single episode aired over 20 years is not as impressive proof of my fanaticism as my prized VHS library. There was a time, not long ago, when you couldn't run to Best Buy or Wal-Mart and pick up your favorite television series' collector's edition DVD with audio commentary and behind-the-scenes footage. Back in the nineties, if you wanted to watch a show under any other circumstances than live at its scheduled time, you would

need to program your Video Cassette Recorder. Taking this idea to a new level, I created an enviable collection of 19 tapes, six to eight hours each, containing episodes recorded from television without commercials. And I carefully cataloged each episode on each tape so that there were no duplicates.

My collection of 19 VHS tapes containing commercial-free, non-duplicated The Simpsons episodes from Seasons 1 through 14

THE SIMPSONS VIII tape with typed episode label as a sample from my prized collection

The project was quite an undertaking. Upon pulling out the videos to snap those photos, I discovered my episode lists from each season with systems for tracking which ones were missing from my tapes, and the scratch paper on which I looked up online and wrote down the dates and times when those episodes would be aired. My mother was a helpful accomplice to my obsession, as she generously bought me tapes with longer recording times, and on many, many occasions sat in front of the TV with the VCR remote to record my episodes and press pause when commercials began and the show resumed. That is true motherly love right there. This endeavor continued into the year 2003, when the accelerated release of complete seasons on DVD threatened to make my collection obsolete. In addition, the invention of TiVo and our "season pass" setting allows me to select from an ever-revolving couple of dozen episodes and watch one by pressing a few buttons on the remote. And I can easily skip the commercials.

I'll let you call me a Simpsons Geek any time. It's an obsession of which I've never been ashamed. And I might not watch those videos right now, but their mere existence is cherished.

As is common when a person indicates an interest in a theme, I have received many Simpsons-related gifts and collected some unique paraphernalia over the years. Here are a few favorite, and more obscure, pieces in my varied collection:

Artwork supposedly signed by Simpsons creator, Matt Groening. It was given to me by one of my high school best friends' dads who dealt in celebrity autographs as a business. I've always wondered at its authenticity, however, especially since he didn't provide any certificate. But I still like it, and yes, I have it framed and hanging on the wall in my house.

Wow, this one is amazing. I don't know where my friend Wiyaka found it, but she sent this Homer marionette of questionable origin for my daughter's first birthday. Technically I guess it belongs to Madelyn, then, who has been able to name the Simpsons family members for about a year now I would guess. (She learned them from the set of nesting dolls below; she doesn't actually watch the show. Yet.)

Madelyn has also commandeered this cool metal lunchbox recently too. She stashed her various trinkets and treasures in there and takes them places.

Another undeniably unlicensed article was mailed to me all the way from the Izmailovsky Market in Russia by my friend Bridget, who was living there at the time. Tiny little Maggie has been misplaced--I can only hope we'll find her when the time comes to move my desk. And Marge's head was sadly crushed underfoot when they were strewn about my office floor by a toddler one day, but the many pieces were carefully superglued back together, and you can't even tell, no? This set of matryoshka dolls is probably my favorite piece of Simpsons memorabilia, due partly to its exceptional distinctiveness and foreign origins, and partly because it reminds me of the bond that Bridget and I shared as teenagers with a mutual appreciation for the creative genius that we knew as The Simpsons.

Yesterday I learned of a new item that I might need to add to my collection:

That sultry temptress Marge has agreed to do a pictorial and appear on the cover of a special Collector's Edition of Playboy as part of the 20th anniversary celebration. I assume the spread will be tasteful and artistic, because surely Marge wouldn't consent to less. Okay, I probably won't buy an issue of "entertainment for men," but I'm curious enough to see it.

Happy upcoming 20th Anniversary, Simpsons!

A triumph for the English Language

It's official. Some nerdy word people in the UK lobbied to have 'meh' included in Collins English Dictionary's 30th Anniversary edition, to be published next year. This particular neologism beat out hundreds of terms submitted by the public through the publishers' "Word of Mouth" campaign. Due to the "excitement" it received from lexicographers, meh was chosen over such gems as huggle, jargonaut, and frenemy.

The dictionary will define meh as "an interjection to suggest indifference or boredom - or as an adjective to say something is mediocre or a person is unimpressed."

The emotion of meh has always existed, but may have taken on slightly different intonations before it was so clearly spelled out on The Simpsons (Hungry Hungry Homer, 4 Mar 2001):

The show opens with a commercial for Blockoland, the park where everything is made of Blocko Brand(tm) Assembly Fun Blocks. Homer is hooked, despite the fact that even the park-goers in the commercial seem un-enthused.

Homer: Kids, how would you like to go to ... Blockoland!

Bart + Lisa: Meh.

Homer: But the TV gave me the impression that --

Bart: We said, "Meh!"

Lisa: M-e-h, meh.

Through the global use of email, text messaging, internet chat, and weblogs, a formal spelling of what would otherwise be a non-written sound is accepted (makes me think of the spelling of "tsk tsk," which when actually uttered doesn't sound like that). Clearly meh's popularity spread far outside the Simpsons' fan base: the phenomenon of language invention.

Of course, this isn't the first time a term coined on the Simpsons has earned its place as an official piece of our beloved language. It was in 2001 that "d'oh" was first published in the Oxford English Dictionary. Maybe that is why the Simpsons writers had Lisa spell out m-e-h that same year, hoping to make another impression on lexicography. This time it only took 8 years, compared to 11 for d'oh, so perhaps they were on to something.

But to me, meh can't be used as part of a sentence. It stands alone, as an answer to a question of one's preference or enthusiasm. So I'm personally not thrilled with the dictionary's choice of giving meh the power of an adjective. One of the reported examples that will be printed is, "The Canadian election was so meh." That just doesn't work for me. Especially with the preceding qualifier "so." It's an oxymoron. Nothing can be "so" meh, because by (now) definition, meh is apathetic, indifferent, and therefore can't be quantified.

So what will be popping up into our dictionary next (if they haven't already...I don't usually sit down and read the dictionary)? Perhaps some of the -shudder- txt abbreviations like lol and brb? Please, not in the dictionary. There is this place between formal and slang English in which we're all free to speak and type casually. But let's not deface the Holy Reference of our language with such atrocities. Let wiktionary have them! For that matter, I can't recall the last time I looked up a word in the physical dictionary with definitions printed on real-life paper pages. The hardback Webster's my grandmother gave me for high school graduation now gathers dust on a bookshelf (of course it's so out of date, it doesn't even include d'oh). Between online dictionaries, wikis, and research toolbars, do I even need an actual dictionary anymore? Meh.

Do you say it? What are some of your favorite words that have made their entrance through popular culture onto the universal language pallette ?