Hanukkah or Chanukah

Anyway you spell it, it's kind of new to me, and it's been something I've done alone.

I have a bunch of decorations for the 8-day holiday, but I haven't put them up. It takes two to string a 6-foot banner.

However, thanks to my friend Dawn, I haven't spent it completely alone this year. I've been over to her house with my hanukiah (shaped like a tree) twice to light the first and the third candles. I discovered in our conversations about Hanukkah that my shamash holder is lower than it should be; the shamash should be the highest candle. (You light the other candles with it.) I'm not terribly concerned about the fact that mine is slightly incorrect, but it's good to know.

Last night we went to the Hanukkah potluck and service at Temple Sinai in Oakland. I had forgotten what it was like: a hundred little kids running around. Anybody even within hormone reach of teenage-dom wouldn't be caught dead at this celebration.

We did a short (very short!) service in the Sancutary. Rabbi Chester said that it was the shortest service he had ever done for shabbat. And then we went back to Stern Hall for the blessings and Hanukkah songs. The tables were laden with miniature dreidels, M&Ms, and chocolate gelt. I watched one little boy who was briefly at our table (everything you do with these little ones is brief) search for the M&Ms. I was watching while I searched for the gelt. More chocolate.

So I have made an effort to spend this holiday with friends and community. I will be lighting the fifth candle tonight, the sixth candle on Sunday night, probably after the Out-and-About Hanukkah party, and then I won't be lighting any more this season because of travel. I still have many candles left from when I bought a box at Afikomen two years ago. I may do Hanukkah mostly alone, but I don't do the whole eight days without ducking out of town.

By the way, these photos are actual pictures of Dawn's and my hanukiot, lit for Hanukkah. Or Chanukah.

Mac Davis in My Head

I woke up at 7 am this morning, a full hour or more earlier than I usually do. In my head was the refrain to, "Baby, Baby Don't Get Hooked on Me."

Remember that song? You might if you are older than 50, but not if you're in your 20's. (Who am I fooling...nobody in their 20's reads my blog!) It's the big hit song for Mac Davis, a folksy, friendly singer who had his own variety show in the mid-'70's. A less-talented version of Glen Campbell.

Well, in my dream Mac and I were talking, and every now and then Mac would start singing a number of his songs. He wrote In the Ghetto, you know, which was a hit for Elvis. Well, during this conversation, I kept telling Mac that he needed another hit. You can't survive on one hit. I challenge you: name another Mac Davis song. You can't. So I guess I was telling him the obvious.

Thankfully I woke up before his career was over and I was feeling really bad about that. I caught myself wondering what he looks like now as I brushed my teeth.

Anyway, it's a good thing I got up early, as Earle the electrician called me. This is a painfully long story, mostly about how he didn't call me back and couldn't get out to the new house until much later than I wanted. But since Martinez Construction never returned my call, I figure I had better jump at Earle's suggestion that he start....tomorrow. Which is good news. I just have to make sure he is doing permits. They weren't mentioned in his estimate or any discussions we've had.

Yesterday was a busy day:

Cleaning crew at Earl @ 0900
Meet plumber and dry wall guy at Circle Hill @ 10:30 where we had discussions on the continuation of the job.
Talk to Nancy about getting the electrician to return phone calls.
Set up dinner with Shawn for Wed so she can give me Marvin's Xmas present.
Talk to BofA in Nashville, and arrange to fax info.
Write the beginning of February's Outtakes newsletter, recalling what happened during yesterday's 'Ol Timers luncheon.
Email several former Customs workers about an old organization pre: NTEU taking over as their union; the purpose is introducing several of their newsletters in future Outtakes editions.
Watch the 1st half an hour of newly-received Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, and try to discern a plot.
Go over to Dawn & Mark's house to light the first Hanukkah candle on our hanukiot.
Pick up takeout with Dawn at Chao Thai, but in the middle of that, pick up Jesse at the Paramount Theatre (and wonder why he's not there when I get there).
Go home and watch the last part of Part 1 of Tin Man, and wonder why I'm still watching.

So, this morning I was out by 8:30 am, willing the commuter traffic to disappear into the fog, at the UPS mailbox in Montclair by 8:45 in order to fax Nashville the letter and fax Earle his original estimate with some added on instructions.

All of these things have to be done or on their way before Friday afternoon, when I fly down to Burbank for the beginning of being gone for about 10 days.

I think at some point in the middle of all this I'm going to have to find a photo of Mac and find out what he's been doing lately. I don't know if I was his agent, but if so, I was doing a lousy job. Oh, and I also have to get that damned song out of my head. I never liked it.

Forget Seven Come Eleven, Double Down Instead

As we had arranged, Debbie and I found each other in the bustling baggage claim at McCarron Airport in Las Vegas, Nevada. We easily found the taxi line, and took our cab to the Trop.

The Tropicana Las Vegas is not the prime piece of real estate it used to be. However, it is actually better than it was a scant few years ago, having done a bit of remodeling and replacement of their slot machines. Our room was nice enough, always decorated with the pinks and blues of the '50's, and rather large as hotel rooms go, but in truth we didn't spend much time there.

We had already done a few of the things we had planned, things we always did when we arrived in Sin City: We had lunch at Mon Ami Gabi at the Paris Hotel/Casino. We paid homage to Star Trek: The Experience at the LV Hilton. We had breakfast at the Luxor. And we walked up and down the Strip, ducking into casinos from time to time.

But on our last day there, we decided to do something different. Debbie wanted to play craps, and she just didn't understand my drawings on napkins at our meals when I tried to explain it. Actually, I only tried to explain three games: the pass line, the come line, and placing bets, as the rest is crap. So we agreed to attend a morning lecture on how to play craps.

We wanted to go downtown to do this, but we didn't get out of the room fast enough. But every casino, more or less, has these lessons. I figured the Trop probably did, too. Sure enough, once we got downstairs at a quarter to 10, we found an empty craps table with a little sign on it, advertising the lessons at 10.

About 10 people showed up, crowding around the half-table to listen to Lou explain how to play. The lesson was supposed to last half an hour, but when left, at a good hour and 10 minutes after he started, he was still going on. What impressed me about him is that he actually plays. Not at the Trop, I'm sure, but he plays. And he only plays one game: Place.

He had some great advice, and I came out of the session with probably more than Debbie, as she still found it confusing. Perhaps one reason for the confusion was that he spent a great deal of time explaining why he doesn't play other games, like the Come line, or Field. And that may be confusing for some. And then, after he got through talking about all that, and why he only places bets, he talked about money management. It was all so fascinating.

So, armed with our new knowledge, her $20 and my $100, we went to the Four Queens downtown and, chasing the two men away who were already there (I had no idea why they left, but I can guess...), began to play, all by ourselves at the big, green $5-minimum craps table.

And five minutes later, we walked away. Completely broke. Er, not broke, but having lost the money we had planned to play.

So then we went to the blackjack tables to sit down, get a drink on the house (soft drinks in our case), and lick our gambling wounds.

We played for a few minutes at the single-deck blackjack table, but I was miffed at the 6-5 payoff for blackjack. I remember the Las Vegas Advisor reporting that this was the new rage in Las Vegas. We left, and walked around, looking for a shoe and another $5-minimum table. We sat down and didn't leave for another hour.

I won $300 there. There were times we'd lose, certainly, but I was looking for streaks where I could use the house's money to double up on my bet, and keep it going. I had two such streaks in that hour. So I got the money back that the craps demons had taken so quickly. In fact, I got back all the money the slot demons had taken over the last three days. Gosh, there are a lot of demons in Vegas.

I gave up on craps quite a few years ago because of the quickness of the losses. Because of the wallowing depression that inevitably accompanies such losses, at least for me. And I gave up on blackjack because it's a slow game, and if you're by yourself, not a very exciting one. I took up video slots (like my favorite Reel 'Em In) because it was a slow outgo with an exciting bonus round.

I still like the video slots. But I now have two other games I'll pursue. Again. As long as I set a limit for what I can lose I'll be fine.

So, Debbie and I had a good time, we ate some really nice meals (although no buffets this time), and had a great time gambling together. I hope we get back on the annual habit of meeting here. And, who knows? Maybe we'll try the 'ol craps game again.

The Other Side of the Razor

I haven't posted lately to my blog, because I've been damn busy. However, I feel guilty that I haven't posted anything about my recent Battlestar experiences. So here is the blog.


This convention was in Burbank, and was advertised as the BIG one, an advertisement that actually started a year ago when Adam Malin of Creation announced that they timed the convention so that the producers could give more content, and more actors could attend.


Well, that didn't pan out. The convention was small. Very small. But that sort of worked to our advantage. Even though small, we were pleased with the actors we got: Katee Sackhoff (Starbuck), Jamie Bamber (Apollo), Tahmoh Penikett (Helo), and Kate Vernon (Ellen Tigh, ruthlessly strangled by her own husband because...oh, never mind). And Bear McCreary, who does the music. Actually, it turned out Bear's presentation was one of the best of the convention.

I didn't know it when I bought our tickets, but Creation decided at the last minute to allow the gold ticket conventioneers to "crash" the nearby Stargate convention, and sit in on their stage presentations when nothing was going on in our hall. I made note of that for next year.

Every actor talked about the writer's strike, which affected them immediately. Only part of the season has been filmed, and there was some doubt that the last 9 episodes to the four-year series would ever be completed if the strike went on too long. But each actor found a way of filling the void. Tahmoh was going snowboarding. Jamie was intent on getting other roles in Hollywood, and was working on that with his new agent, Erin Grey. And Katee was actually pleased to be off work. "My first Thanksgiving off in 9 years!" she exclaimed, and added that she thinks they'll all be back to work by January.

It was great to see Erin Grey. She waved to the crowd when Adam introduced her. When I saw her during Jamie's autograph session, I said to her, "Not to be presumptuous, but can we assume you're now an agent?" She nodded, and added that she still works at acting jobs occasionally. As always, she was very friendly and gracious. I've seen her at conventions for maybe 15 years now, having enjoyed her work since Buck Rogers in the 25th Century as "Colonel Wilma Deering" circa 1986. I added to her, "You know, Colonel Deering was my hero," and she replied, "Mine, too."

Debbie and I enjoyed our time at the convention, but it doesn't look like we're meeting up here next November. However, we did agree that November is the perfect month in which to "do" Las Vegas, and I hope we'll meet up there in 2008.

When I got home, I received an email from Jennifer, a local whom I met at the Grand Slam in April and saw again at the Sacramento con a few months later. She invited me to their house to watch Razor, the two-hour show Battlestar produced to keep the fans satisfied until they could get back on-air.

I loved the show, particularly the storyline concerning Admiral Cain, the hardened commander played by Michelle Forbes, who played Ensign Ro in Star Trek: The Next Generation. "Razor" comes from the pocketknife Admiral Cain used to carry around, sort of a signature piece, and passed on to her new lieutenant, apparently, when Cain met her ill fate. I found the story quite compelling.

My hosts found the fact that Cain was disclosed as a lesbian (kind of tossed at the audience in just a few minutes, having a love affair with the Cylon on board, no less), and a murderous one at that, rather off-putting. And that that fact reminded them of the stereotypical Sharon Stone role played so venomously in the '80's. I can certainly see that point, and I wonder why the writers and producers decided to even bother with that add-on. Kind of a stupid decision.

So, at this point, we have no idea when Battlestar will come back on the air. Maybe March. Maybe later. Maybe never.

But in the meantime, there's the Razor DVD coming out in a few days which has about 40 minutes of added screentime. Fascinating.

Le Creuset in my Home

A long, long time ago, when I thought I could learn how to cook by watching QVC and Bob's Cooking Show, he and every chef I heard from told me I had to have one of those Le Creuset pots. Heavy. Heavy orange. And, yes, I thought orange was required. But, whoa, the expense. Never mind.

It's more than 10 years later, and Sweetie walked in the door yesterday with a big, heavy box labeled "Le Creuset." Yes!!! And it's not bloody orange! (It's beautiful royal blue.)

Today I made apple-pumpkin soup in my new Le Creuset. I was amazed (!) at how fast it heated up! Wow!! It's like taking a shiny new Corvette out on country roads!

No photos of the pumpkin soup yet. I made a rookie mistake of not reading through the entire recipe (actually, I had read through it, but that was 3 days ago, and I forgot about this one little requirement). You have to chill the soup for 8 hours.

So, the soup is in the 'fridge now. When it comes out, I will add half-and-half cream, salt and pepper, and a little apple juice right before serving.

Welcome to my household, Le Creuset, after many years of yearning.

The Writers' Strike

The writers' strike commenced on Monday, as promised. It's been very interesting to hear about and read what writers for my favorite shows (e.g., Battlestar Galactica and Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Firefly) have had to say about it.

Writers are asking for two things (quotes and titles from the WGA blog, and thanks to Justine at http://tahmohpenikett.blogspot.com for posting this):

1. Residuals for reuse of content (like replaying tv shows) on the internet.

"We're asking for residuals of 2.5% of revenue -- that means for every dollar they get paid, we'd get 2 and a half cents. It's a flat percentage, so if they're right and they're never ever going to make a penny, well then, we won't either. No harm, no foul.

"Since 2.5% is our starting point, in any normal negotiation we'd end up somewhere between what they want to pay (.3%) and what we're asking for (2.5%). I'd guess 1 to 1.5 %."

2. Coverage and protections for original content ("new stuff we create for the internet").

"We're asking for basic protections so that when we write original stuff for the internet, we have rights -- health and pension, minimum amounts, credits and separated rights (so if we make some amazing character or show, we get the right to share in its success.)

We're just asking for the same protections we already have for writing in tv or film. Nothing new or weird. Just the basics."

In other news, Michael Eisner announced that the strike is "stupid." That's a bleepin' quote. And he added that studios don't know why the writers are striking, and that they have nothing to offer or give. God, I'm so glad he left Disney to more qualified people.

We, of course, support the strike. Most actors support the strike, as they realize that, whatever happens, so go the actors in 2008 during their contract renegotiation.

I, selfishly, am not worried about T.V. programming, or new movies, etc. I am worried about the Battlestar Galactica convention next weekend. I'm hoping BSG doesn't have to suddenly film that weekend to get material in the can. I really believe, though, that the actors will show up, perhaps more willingly than before (money that may not be coming in, plus a chance to talk about the subject), and give us their view of what's going on. That will be very interesting.

This will be a long one. May the most erudite win.

Moroccan: The Cooking Class

If you're following the blog, you'll know that a few nights ago I went to my first Moroccan meal. Well, I ate Moroccan once before, but I was in my twenties, and you know how long ago THAT was; I don't remember a thing about it. At this latest try, in tasting the meal in between the belly dancing, I was aware at how much I was not wowed by the food. My friend agreed. I was astonished that she had had the same reaction.

Unbelievably, two days later, we found ourselves at a Moroccan cooking class given by Dara of The Sage Table. This is my 3rd class with Dara, given in her home, in her aging but quaint kitchen.

It's mostly observing. If you cornered me, I would say that hands-on would be better, except that I might actually have to work. As she does the work, I can imagine myself doing it, and I've had enough practice now to know what I can do. And I can do this.

But I didn't see myself here this night. Dawn talked me into this one. And it's a good thing we booked this a month ago, as I never would've committed to this, really, after tasting the food the other night. But tonight, after eating all of what Dara had to offer us, I must say, I enjoyed it all.

Our menu:

Colorful Cabbage salad with citrus-honey dressing.
Aromatic Vegetable Tagine with Olives and Figs
Barley and Quinoa Pilaf with mint
Chicken with Lemons and Olives, Moroccan-style

No dessert. But who needs dessert with such a flavorful menu? I have to admit that I mixed all the portions on my plate together, finding that it all worked really well mixed up, especially with the crunchy barley/quinoa.

I hate (and let me make a list): Onions (at least those so strong and present as to be individually tasted). Quinoa. Olives. Figs. Zucchini. Eggplant. But cooked -- not too much, but enough to allow them to be soft but still hold their shape -- it all was divine. These dishes changed my mind about many of these ingredients, these vegetables, grains, and, yes, Moroccan food.

This is good stuff. The proof, I guess, will be when I cook it myself. My Sweetie will love it!

Who knew?