Repost

Homemade Microwave Popcorn

  • 1/4 cup of popping corn (generally $0.99 for a pound bag. This is enough to make at least 50 bags of microwave corn)
  • 1 Teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
  • Popcorn salt to taste (it has finer granules than table salt with the same taste)
  • And the following tools:
  • A stapler
  • A teaspoon
  • A measuring cup
  • A brown paper bag, and—of course
  • A microwave

Step One:

Measure out the popcorn and dump it into the paper bag. Carefully add salt and any additional seasonings you might want. Shake gently. Now add the teaspoon of olive oil.

Step Two:

Close the bag, folding it over twice. Secure with one stable in the middle of the fold. (Contrary to popular belief, staples will not arc in the microwave.) Shake the bag to evenly distribute the corn/oil/salt mixture. Place the bag, side down, in your microwave and nuke it until you hear the popping occurring at roughly 3-5 second intervals. (My microwave has a "popcorn" setting on the control panel. I find that is about fifteen seconds too long.) You might want to put a folded paper towel under the bag to soak up the oil that will seep through the bag.

Step Three:

Open the bag with care because steam will escape and you can get scalded. Pour into a bowl, serve and enjoy the taste and the knowledge that this heaping bag of microwave popcorn cost less than ten cents and isn't full of unnecessary added chemicals and preservatives!

Then And Now

Top: 1960-something. Bottom: 2016. Central Avenue just south of Monterey Way looking north.
Top: Late 1960s/early 1970s. Bottom: 2016. Indian School Road just east of Central Avenue looking west.
Top: Late 1960s. Bottom: 2016. Indian School Road east of Central Avenue (about 100' further east than the picture above) looking west.
Top: 1950s. Bottom: 2016. Van Buren and Central Avenue looking southeast.
Top: 1960-something. Bottom: 2016. Central Avenue at Polk looking north.
Top: Early 1970s. Bottom 2016. Indian School Road at Central Avenue looking south.
Top: 1960-something. Left: 2016. West side of 7th Avenue just north of Heatherbrae looking north.
Left: 1960-something. Right: 2016. The Professional Building at Central Avenue and Monroe. The building sat empty for many, many years, but was recently renovated and is now the Hilton Garden Inn.

R.I.P. Edgar Mitchell






Edgar Mitchell, one of just 12 human beings who walked on the moon, has died. He was 85.

"On behalf of the entire NASA family, I would like to express my condolences to the family and friends of NASA astronaut Edgar Mitchell," NASA Administrator Charles Bolden said in a statement. "He believed in exploration, having been drawn to NASA by President Kennedy's call to send humans to the moon. He is one of the pioneers in space exploration on whose shoulders we now stand."

Mitchell died Thursday in West Palm Beach, Florida, according to NASA. His death occurred on the eve of the 45th anniversary of his lunar landing, which took place on February 5, 1971.

Mitchell, Alan Shepard and Stuart Roosa were the crew of Apollo 14, which launched on January 31, 1971. Mitchell became the sixth man to walk on the lunar surface.

He and Shepard set foot on the moon two separate times during their mission, spending more than nine hours collecting rocks, taking measurements and (in Shepard's case) hitting a pair of golf balls. Mitchell also took a famous photograph of Shepard standing next to an American flag. All told, the two spent 33 hours on the moon.

Mitchell, who was the lunar module pilot, found the trip to be a profound experience, telling the UK Telegraph in 2014, "Looking at Earth from space and seeing it was a planet in isolation…that was an experience of ecstasy, realizing that every molecule in our bodies is a system of matter created from a star hanging in space. The experience I had was called Samadhi in the ancient Sanskrit, a feeling of overwhelming joy at seeing the Earth from that perspective."

Fascinated and frustrated by the relationship between religion and science, he was very public about seeking links between the known and unknown, being a firm believer in extraterrestrial activity, and was convinced UFOs had visited Earth.

In one interview, he told Bloomberg Business that the 1947 Roswell incident, which to some people is evidence of an extraterrestrial crash landing, was covered up, saying, "It's not just military. It's a cabal of organizations primarily for a profit motive."

The astronaut was born in Hereford, Texas, in 1930. A Navy pilot, he joined NASA in 1966 as part of the agency's astronaut corps. He was well-qualified: besides having served as a test pilot and college instructor, he earned a doctorate from MIT in aeronautics and astronautics.

With Mitchell's death, of the 12 men who have walked on the moon, seven survive: Buzz Aldrin, Alan Bean, David Scott, John W. Young, Charles Duke, Eugene Cernan and Harrison Schmitt.

Many have talked of their missions with joy and wonder. Mitchell went beyond, however: he believed we were all connected—to everything.

"We are not alone in the universe," he told the Utica Phoenix. "We are just one grain of sand on a huge beach."

That's Surprising

So I'm playing around with my iTunes playlists today and I made the surprising/disturbing discovery that of the 16,191 items in my library, 9461—NINE THOUSAND FOUR HUNDRED SIXTY ONE—supposedly have never been played.

How is this even possible?

Oh yeah…several years ago I inadvertently reset the play counts. But still, that's a lot of music I haven't listened to since then (if ever); 28.2 days worth to be exact.

Best Comment Ever

"Disco never died, it just went underground. If this doesn't get you tapping your feet or moving yo ass, you're dead inside."

Doubleplusgood

I'd forgotten what an awesome track this was…

As a reminder, Orwell's 1984 was written as a cautionary tale…not a How-To Manual.

And since we're on the subject of Eurythmics and that awesome soundtrack…

If I Don't Put It Out There It Will Never Happen


As I have lamented on this blog previously, one of the biggest regrets of my life was that I've gotten rid of so many things I wish I'd held on to.

The first of those things being the notebooks I'd amassed that were full of audio manufacturer literature from the 70s and 80s. I don't actually recall at this point if I intentionally threw them out or if they were inadvertently left in a closet when fleeing an unfortunate roommate situation in 1989, but the fact remains at some point they disappeared.

The second of those things were the multiple notebooks of the floor plan/exterior elevation handouts I'd collected from Hallcraft Homes for the duration of my dad's employment with the company. I believe I left them in Dad's care when I first moved out of my folks' house in the early 80s, with the intent of eventually getting them back at some point. Well, life happened and I'd all but forgotten about them (and the dozens of actual construction blueprints in our possession) until some time after he moved to the Bay Area and I inquired as to their whereabouts. "Oh, I threw all that stuff out after the divorce."

Well fuck me.

My heart sank. Looking back on it now, I think his tenure at the firm (especially the last few years after they'd been bought out by a Canadian company) became increasingly difficult and when the opportunity presented itself for a purge of all physical reminders of his time there, he went for it—something totally out of character for my dad who seemed to hold onto every other thing in the world.

With the advent of the internet, I'd always fantasized what a great resource having all those handouts would be to current owners of the homes—if only for historical reference, and after his death I'd hoped against all odds that my sister would find a hidden cache in his things. Alas, no such cache was found.

Searching online for already published examples of those handouts has been a lesson in futility—until yesterday. With all the Phoenix history swirling through my brain of late, I did a search for "Hallcraft Showcase of Homes." This led me to—of all places—the Sunburst Farms HOA page. Sunburst Farms was the first of several Hallcraft subdivisions with one- and two-acre lots. (Ben's grandfather actually still owns a home in one of the east side developments.) On this HOA page there was a link to "Historic Documents" and on that page were links that sent my heart fluttering: Hallcraft Flyer 1, Hallcraft Home Plans 1, Hallcraft Home Plans 2, Home Elevations, Home Prices…

It wasn't a treasure trove, but considering I'd previously only possessed three floor plans and an equal number of exterior elevation sheets, being able to add three more was like Christmas to me.

This morning, while I lay awake at 4 am again, another thought came to me: Craigslist! and I thought, "Fuck It! If I don't put it out there, it will never happen."

So now I have a "wanted" ad on the Phoenix Craigslist seeking these handouts; not to buy, but simply to scan or photograph in hopes of getting them all posted online. In the 1970s alone there were about 45 different single-family floor plans, and probably an equal number of townhouse/fourplex plans. The fact that someone kept a few—that I didn't have—tells me that somewhere in Phoenix, in boxes at the back of closets and garages, my treasure may be lurking.

The images above are from yesterday's discovery, and that particular plan was actually one of my favorites even though—god forbid as far as my mother was concerned—it didn't have a separate dining room. That seems silly now, as I could easily see using the "family room" as a separate dining space since I could never understand the need for having a living room and a family room.