Author Archive

London – Day 3

Monday, June 29th, 2009


Do you ever wake up, convinced the dream you were just having was real? That your emergence into consciousness is simply a continuation of what you’ve been experiencing in dreamland?

Happened to me that morning. I’d been dreaming about the Generalissimo, his counterpart, and a hundred of their loony friends. At some point I’d gone to lay my head down while they played Twister in my room. Then I opened my eyes. And there they were. In my room. Beyond the locked door with the security bolt securely in place.

“Wakey, wakey!” the Generalissimo cried. Worst alarm clock ever. “We are burning daylight!”


London – Day 2

Thursday, June 25th, 2009


I knocked on their door at ten sharp. The Generalissima let me in. She’d changed into what I like to think of as her lounge wear: jeans and a frilly white blouse with a plunging neckline not usually seen outside of bad porn. The Generalissimo was on the bed, asleep, in his jeans and jacket, topped off with his eponymous jacket and the helmet. And of course, the mustache.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” I asked.

“What! When! Where!” The Generalissimo leapt out of bed, head jerking side to side as he searched for danger.

“It’s just me, sir. You can relax.”



London – Day 1

Monday, June 22nd, 2009


“You should come! It will be glorious!”

He had to be kidding. Much as I wanted to take an all expenses paid trip to London, the last thing I wanted to do was spend the week with him.

“And the Generalissima will be accompanying us! You two don’t spend enough time together! She’s been meaning to speak to you about that!”


Which is how I found myself on a non-stop flight from Seattle to London on British Airways. The Generalissima was nowhere to be found. The Generalissimo took the window seat, and I took the aisle. The open spot between us was actually his seat, but he liked watching the clouds and telling me what they looked like.


Pioneer Bakery cheese Danish

Thursday, June 18th, 2009

Doughy instead of flakey. A balance of sweet and sour. A folded pastry with two problems that keep it from the title fight.

The Pioneer Bakery of Puyallup, Washington, is one of those little places you’d miss if you blinked. That would be your loss, because they’ve got a few tricks up their sleeves that make me want to go back. The Generalissimo and I aren’t ones to turn up our noses at local bakeries; we tend to prefer them, actually. There’s a place in D.C. that makes these—

“Just get on with it!”

“Yes, sir.” The Generalissimo hasn’t had his daily dose of caffeine, or lithium, or whatever the hell it is that—

“The Danish!”


A Taste of Eden cheese Danish

Monday, June 15th, 2009

a-taste-of-eden-danish.jpg“Why have we stopped here, young Thurmanthe Generalissimo asked.

“Here” was the Puyallup Farmer’s Market. And we’d stopped because the Generalissimo once again forgot his counterpart’s birthday, and was in need of some fresh flowers to rectify the situation. Of course he’d forgotten that, too.


Vendange White Zinfandel

Thursday, June 11th, 2009

vendange-white-zin-3.jpgI like White Zinfandel. It’s easy to drink, goes well with just about anything, and is hard to screw up.

And so it goes with our current test subject. Vendange’s White Zinfandel came in a 500ml container, rated at 11% alcohol. It had no year listed, so its vintage is up for grabs. The packaging was small, which was good, because it was easier to fit in my fridge than any other wine I’ve purchased. It was also cheap ($6).

“Tell them about the legs!” the Generalissimo insisted.

“What legs?”

“The legs! You have to do the swirly thingy with the glass, then you look at the legs


Nemo’s Carrot Cake

Monday, June 8th, 2009


I know, I know, we don’t normally taste things outside of the cheese Danish realm, but I was hungry, and the Generalissimo took the only cheese Danish we found at the Chevron station. And as he isn’t one to share, I took what I could find.

I love carrot cake. When done right, it can be a religious experience. My grandmother, for example, could open the megachurch dedicated to carrot cake. Duncan Hines and Betty Crocker might be able to open a local parish of some sort by comparison.


Green Path’s 2006 Chardonnay

Thursday, June 4th, 2009

“I thought we discussed this!” the Generalissimo said. “It is not a box

“Sure it is. See?” I squeezed the box, sloshing some of Green Path’s 2006 Chardonnay out of the spout and onto my shirt. I’d love to tell you that was the first time that had happened that night, but…

“It is the color of the last sample I gave to the fine physicians at the free clinic

“Why were you at the free clinic?”

“Give me the glass!” He took a gulp. Then another. He continued until the glass was empty. “Superb! But it is not from a real box!” He slammed the glass to the ground, shattering what was once my favorite wine goblet. Maybe goblet is a stretch. It was a Snoopy mug I got at the thrift store when I was in college. Still.

“But it’s organic, sir.” He loves the organic. He believes that pesticides are responsible for his chronic kidney stones, as well as the voices he hears in his head. I wasn’t gonna be the one to tell him otherwise.

“Organic? Indeed?” He picked up the box.


2009 BMW M3 sedan

Monday, June 1st, 2009

BMW M3 sedanOh. My. God.

A friend of the family owned the previous generation M3, and he once took me for a spin. I’d been in BMWs before, but this was the kind of car you dreamt about when you were sixteen and thinking about your perfect ride. The lines were clean, the convertible top was very cool, and it sounded like it wanted to kill you if it got the chance, just for fun. The power was awesome, bordering on insane.

The border is now gone. The new M3 is not only insane, but thrilled to death about it.


Albertson’s cheese Danish

Thursday, May 28th, 2009

albertsons-chese-danish.jpg“This is more like it!” the Generalissimo cried.

I’d made the mistake of having the great sunglassed one over to my place for an evening of cheese Danishes and fine boxed wine. Unfortunately, the first Danish I pulled out wasn’t a Danish at all, but a cheese croissant. He wasn’t amused. This offering, also from Albertson’s, was a true cheese Danish, and he seemed much more inclined to enjoy it, right until he put it into his mouth.