Thursday, June 14, 2007

Food Stuff Consumption And Miscellany

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

lg coffee (light/sweet)
1 lg ham wrap cut in half (lettuce/tomato)
bottle of orange/mango juice (17.5 fl.oz.)
3 med coffees (light/sweet)
1 sesame seed bagel with cream cheese
1/2-3/4 pack of cigarettes

Food, Film, Fish, Mudville, and more:

recipe:

Chili-Rubbed Corn on the Cob

Ingredients:

>Corn on the cob
>4 oz. unsalted butter
>1 Tbsp. chili powder
>1 tsp. garlic powder
>Dash salt
>Dash white pepper

1. Add chili powder and dried garlic powder to melted butter to create a "wet" rub for the corn. Stir well and refrigerate until solid.

2. Rub the solid refrigerated chili butter evenly on the cob.

3. Season corn with salt and white pepper.

4. Wrap corn in aluminum foil.

5. Place corn on grill on medium fire for 18 minutes turning over halfway through.

6. Unwrap corn and serve.

courtesy Rum Bar and Metro Newspaper




Felice Frankel Calls It ‘Phenomena.’ Everyone Else Calls It Art.



Fish Cam and Fish Guys (related article - City Paper)


Casey at the Bat

by Ernest Lawrence Thayer ©

Published: The Examiner (06-03-1888)

The Outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -
We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey's getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile on Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped-
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one," the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And its likely they'd a-killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, "Strike two."

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

"Phin"

Casey at the Bat by Ernest Lawrence Thayer ©


Stats for Dan Casey, Philadelphia Phillies 1884-1890, who maintained until his death in 1943 that he was the doomed hitter portrayed in the poem “Casey at the Bat.”

website with counter countdown documenting the upcoming 10,000th loss by the Phillies
plus merchandise

info/related NYT article: Milestone Marks What Phillies Fans Already Knew



better news: The current standings of the Phillies

National League
East W L Pct GB Home Road Last 10 Streak
Mets 36 28 .563 -- 17-16 19-12 1-9 Lost 5
Braves 35 31 .530 2 18-16 17-15 3-7 Lost 2
Phillies 35 31 .530 2 18-15 17-16 7-3 Won 3
Marlins 32 34 .485 5 14-18 18-16 5-5 Lost 1
Nationals 28 37 .431 8.5 14-19 14-18 5-5 Won 2


other news - update: A Multimillion-Dollar Head Case

No comments: