News Headlines - Chaplain of the Year to pray in Congress : Townhall.com

Congratulations to my cousin Endel Lee. I have my DVR set, and am planning to watch his prayer before Congress live today during lunch. I sent him a congratulatory email last week and encouraged him, if he could, to work in a shout-0ut. In his authentically humble-yet-witty response, he replied he was under a word-count, but maybe next time.

News Headlines - Chaplain of the Year to pray in Congress : Townhall.com

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With The Taste Of A Poison Paradise

As we'd say down South, "Well shit fire to save matches." It's been an extremely busy week for me and as it turns out, it's seemingly the tip of the iceberg. Sometimes when the task list hits a feverish pitch, I find myself needing to do something I can complete and feel good about. This week, that has been oven cleaning.

I would like to state, for the record, that this week was the first time in my 38.5 years that I have ever cleaned an oven. Although I love to cook, and have baked all sorts of stuff over the years, apparently I've either a.) been really clean about it b.) had someone to clean it for me or c.) had a self-cleaning oven. But a few weeks ago when I was baking Amish Friendship Bread, the loaf runneth over and made friends with the electric element at the bottom of the stove. I will be really honest when I say I had hoped eventually it would just bake off. Which, for the most part, it did, but I suppose it's the reason you have ashes of loved ones after cremation - some of that stuff just doesn't burn. And so it goes that my stove was a crematorium for this densely-baked confection and just as fate would have it, my mom saw it over Christmas.

"Ooooh," she squeaked in her alarm voice, "Boy you need to clean this oven."

One of the great things I'm experiencing in my evolution is the ability to call a spade a spade without feeling like it needs a supporting backstory. So I just said, "Yeah, you're right."

Last night was The Night, and though I knew it was a job for Easy-Off, I won't go that route again because I did awaken super congested and a little headache-y. I baked more bread first, then did the spray down, and this morning it all wiped clean as a cucumber. (I think that's supposed to be "cool as a cucumber" but I'm utilizing my poetic license because, think about it, cucumbers are often really clean.)

In fact, now that it's clean, and before I bake again, I think I'll do something non-toxic to remove any remaining chemical residue. In this scenario I'm fairly sure it will just be a rinse with lightly diluted white vinegar. And now that I'm no longer an oven cleaning virgin, I think I might perform this little task more often. In just 20 minutes I felt like I'd achieved something significant.

I'm gonna go call mama.

Disclaimer: If you're reading this as a Note on Facebook, it's because my blog - located at www.robbyjohnson.com - feeds directly into my Facebook account. Majikal, right? Point being, if I link a YouTube video or other graphics it may not show up. For your fully-integrated Robby Johnson user experience, visit www.robbyjohnson.com. Let the beat hit 'em, y'all!

Baker Baker

Baker Baker
Baking a cake
Make me a day
Make me whole again
And I wonder
What's in a day
What's in your cake this time

Even those are Tori Amos lyrics I promise this blog isn't going to make you want to slit your wrists. Why? Because it's about baking! And who doesn't love some flour-y sugar-y deliciousness on an icky winter day? I should stop right here and say that by default, I'm not a baker. I don't really have the patience for it, the counter space for it, and certainly NOT the caloric discretion for it. And yet for years - let's say 15 - I've needed nothing more than I've needed a pastry blender.

If you have ever had to cut cold butter into flour when baking, using two knives like the ginzu guy at hibachi, you too know that it is a rather suckdiggity experience. Mostly because, for me, I'm a precision guy. I want all of the little butter crumbs to be exactly the same size and I don't want to run the risk of one muffin being more buttery than the other (waitforit, waitforit ... THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!) and so, the other day, I took this yearning bull by the horns and slung my butt into Bed, Bath and Beyond and emerged with an Oxo Good Grips Pastry Cutter in hand.

Armed with my 4-cup Pyrex measuring pitcher (acquired a few months back), and a new silicon baking mat, let's just say there will be no chipped teeth on this summer's poolside confections because I am completely bumping it up a notch with my baking skills. Recognize!

Disclaimer: If you're reading this as a Note on Facebook, it's because my blog - located at www.robbyjohnson.com - feeds directly into my Facebook account. Majikal, right? Point being, if I link a YouTube video or other graphics it may not show up. For your fully-integrated Robby Johnson user experience, visit www.robbyjohnson.com. Let the beat hit 'em, y'all!

GUM (Gum, Gum)

If anything, THE Robby Johnson is aggressive. At times, over-aggressive. This works in my favor when, let's say, I'm swinging through vines in the upper canopy of a Central American jungle as I bring my special blend of ninja ass whoopin' to unsuspecting guerrilla militants traveling below on foot. Trust me, they never even knew what hit them. But I gotta say, over-aggression isn't so good when it comes to brushing your teeth. And thusly I am a victim of receding gums. Please don't judge me.

If you live in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, and Dr. Stan Turnipseed isn't your dentist and Crystal isn't your hygienist, it means you don't matter. After yesterday's routine cleaning, I feel like I have failed my gums and for that, I'm really, really sorry. Too much of a good thing. Le sigh.


Disclaimer: If you're reading this as a Note on Facebook, it's because my blog - located at www.robbyjohnson.com - feeds directly into my Facebook account. Majikal, right? Point being, if I link a YouTube video or other graphics it may not show up. For your fully-integrated Robby Johnson user experience, visit www.robbyjohnson.com. Let the beat hit 'em, y'all!

Like A Prayer

I'm so thankful to everyone - all 2 of you - who have inquired as to why my blog has become somewhat, erm, slower. No no no, astute observation, one with merit ... the simple truth is, I've been taking my own "30 Over 30" advice and unfortunately, my writing time has suffered as a result. In all honesty, I think it will return to a more normally scheduled frequency as the daylight continues to grow longer. I am a light-sensitive sleeper meaning, if it's light outside I usually have difficulty sleeping. But if it's dark? All bets are off. Lady Gaga might like to dance in the dark, but homeboy like to sleep in it!

The good news is I've been to the gym 13 times already in January. Mostly for cardio but also for different varied exercise/strength training workouts too. I typically do some sort of pilates daily, even if it's just 20 minutes with peripheral equipment I have at my house.

I also have 3 appointments tomorrow: dermatologist for a full-body scan, my regular doctor for a checkup, and dentist tomorrow afternoon. I'm taking a "health day" to bang them all out once. If you haven't had a physical examination or been to the dentist in over a year, do something good for yourself and go. Prevention is the best medicine, and it's definitely the way of healthcare in the future.

I had coffee with my esteemed pal Eduardo and his SO on Saturday afternoon, and he grimaced when he described Madonna's performance on Help For Haiti Now. I hadn't seen it, but quickly did and had to text him to politely disagree. For a stripped down, live studio performance I thought this was amazing. I saw her on the "Sticky and Sweet" tour in late 2008 and this was, to me, the highlight of that entire set. Hard to believe the song is now 21.5 years old, but still so fantastic. I do think she could lay off the plastic surgery face because, let's face it, she's looking a bit like that ventriliquist's puppet "Madame," but hey, she's still Madonna.

My thoughts and prayers continue to be with the people of Haiti.

Disclaimer: If you're reading this as a Note on Facebook, it's because my blog - located at www.robbyjohnson.com - feeds directly into my Facebook account. Majikal, right? Point being, if I link a YouTube video or other graphics it may not show up. For your fully-integrated Robby Johnson user experience, visit www.robbyjohnson.com. Let the beat hit 'em, y'all!

Freeze Frame

It's not so bad to be inside the box, as long as the resident play things entertain and inspire. (Deep thoughts by Robby Johnson, Vol. IV.XII.)

And when things become formulaic, they start to look formulaic. (Formula + Formula = Formula.) That's what a drag queen might describe as "tired." When something is tired it's predictable, not really memorable, and it lacks the creative package that entices and, essentially, it stops telling a story.

We commonly see this in television programming, music, and many other facets of the visual arts. One, in particular, I find static is the mystical, magical, wedding. Fortunately for brides and grooms in central Alabama and other parts of the Southeast, there's Emanuel Neiconi. He's from Romania, y'all, and that means he's got them European ideas and influences, all refined-like. OK, I'm only having a bit of fun with colloquialism, but the simple truth is Emanuel has an amazing ability to capture moments and images that tell a story, reflect a celebration, and are unique and timeless in their presentation.

I think this is what a drag queen might call "flawless."

Disclaimer: If you're reading this as a Note on Facebook, it's because my blog - located at www.robbyjohnson.com - feeds directly into my Facebook account. Majikal, right? Point being, if I link a YouTube video or other graphics it may not show up. For your fully-integrated Robby Johnson user experience, visit www.robbyjohnson.com. Let the beat hit 'em, y'all!

Basket Case

I didn't know the origin of the derogatory description "basket case." I just knew it meant cray-cray. But now that we're living in the future, and we have access to a ridiculous amount of information, there's really no reason NOT to know anything. The challenge, I think, is recognizing an opportunity to learn - not just pulling information when it's a critical requirement. As a writer, I'm always thirsty for an enhanced vocabulary. Sure, it's not Pythagorean Theorem or anything those math-y sorts know and get paid mad cash to own, but in a battle of words I will see your "gross" and raise you a "macabre," then laugh all the way to the bank.

Wow, I love how this happens. I fully intended to write about my new obsession with organizing my life by a.) purging a bunch of stuff I no longer use or need then b.) containing the previously-uncontained in baskets. Apparently I needed to take that little pit stop at Think Smart first. Thanks for your patience. Currently my living space isn't very pretty. I try to keep everything neat and orderly, but my system has become somewhat disheveled and is bordering on "skinny fat." 

When the very process of attempting to tidy the laundry room by just reorganizing a shelf turns into 6 hours of massive purge and overhaul, you have to just ride out what you know to be a positive ending. In my work environment, we might call these efforts "value-adding." Last weekend it was said laundry room. This weekend it included my breeze storage closet that is 4' x 4' and may've reminded you of Fred Flinstone's closet, and my personal bedroom closet. A massive wardrobe edit has ensued, and I have completely rearranged my closet to be more efficient. Hooray!

The Final Frontier is a bunch of paper/documentation that may or may not be relevant. I have to go through several big storage bins to make these decisions. Whatever "stays," is getting scanned and stored to disk, then shredded. While I do anticipate many more hours of dedicated effort, I am certain the ends will justify the means. This is, after all, what January is for. Right?

Disclaimer: If you're reading this as a Note on Facebook, it's because my blog - located at www.robbyjohnson.com - feeds directly into my Facebook account. Majikal, right? Point being, if I link a YouTube video or other graphics it may not show up. For your fully-integrated Robby Johnson user experience, visit www.robbyjohnson.com. Let the beat hit 'em, y'all!