• Love thy medicine

    This year I’ve become quite the connoisseur of prescription drugs.

    Personally, I think the 2007 Phizer collection is divine. It goes without saying that a well crafted capsule goes down smooth (although I said it anyway), but my Phizer stock of tablets go down almost as well. There’s a very mild bitter taste, with just a hint of metallic tang. And the coating? Don’t get me started about the coating. These marvels of modern pharmacology slide down your throat with a minimum of fuss. They’re a delight compared to my generics, whose chalky coatings bond to your tongue like a freezing flagpole. When they say you should drink a full glass of water, they aren’t kidding. Sometimes it takes a full eight ounces just to dislodge the pill from your tongue. And the taste? The generics ought to come with a warning about the explosion of bitterness they’re packing. You could armor plate your tongue and they would still curl your lips in shock.

    On the other hand, you are paying a hefty premium for that coating**. Some of those name brands cost more for a single pill than a 30 day supply of generics (especially if you’re buying from a discount retailer – though I can’t bring myself to shop at Wal-Mart… I always feel dirty afterwards… but that’s a topic for another day).

    **Yes, I know you’re paying for more than just the coating… R&D, tacky television and print ads, legal war-chests for liability claims when the latest wonder-drug is linked to spontaneous combustion… etc.

  • Fluff, courtesy of the magic bean

    I am torn. I aspire to be a coffee snob, but I’m finding that some of the equipment is a little too pricey. My first steps to snobbery weren’t too expensive… whole bean instead of ground, a once forgotten coffee (blade) grinder received as a wedding gift, and a French press.

    I’ve come a long way from coffee flavored, instant chocolate milk (General Foods International Coffees).

    The next step is perfecting the grind… and that’s the problem. Good grinders cost a mint. I’ve read that the key to a good, consistent brew is a good, consistent grind – something that isn’t possible with those food processors masquerading as coffee grinders. I see the results every morning. No matter what I do, the grind is a mixed bag… some beans chopped up to the consistency of flour, other beans untouched. Burr grinders are supposed to be much better… with opposing surfaces which pulverize the beans instead of chopping them up. You can set the distance between the surfaces in order to control the kind of grind you want (coarse for the french press, fine for the auto-drip). I’m toying with picking up a cheap hand crank model, but I hear it takes more effort than I’m willing to spend (at six in the morning) to produce just one cup of coffee. I’ve found lots of less expensive burr grinders (re: less than three significant digits to the left of the decimal point on the price), but the reviews are consistently mixed.

    I’ve got my eye on an inexpensive Cuisinart at Amazon, whose reviews are a little less mixed, but I’m still a little leery. Tearing open the long awaited box from Amazon, grinding up some coffee, and getting another bad grind would be more disappointment than I could handle right now.

    It’s a good thing I haven’t acquired a taste for espresso. Those things look more complicated than the main engines on the space shuttle.

    One of the must see stops on any trip to Florida is The Kennedy Space Center. We’re lucky enough that it’s only a quick trip to the other coast…. This is one of the main engines that flew on the maiden flight of Challenger in 1983. Among it’s 15 flights was the mission that launched the Hubble Space Telescope. I only wish I could have gotten a less obstructed shot.

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  • Something else to lose

    2007 will probably not go down as my favorite year, but I won’t tempt fate by claiming it’s the worst. That kind of reckless talk is what makes fate go Biblical.

    Apparently it has been bad enough for me to start losing my hair. This morning we noticed a lot of hair on the floor near the mirror, and on closer inspection I noticed I was shedding hair like a certain cat at my parent’s house. John sized pieces of hair came raining down like dandruff after a quick shakedown. It’s not exactly coming out by the handful, but it seems like more is coming out than it should with a gentle tug.

    I played a little internet doctor this morning to try to confirm my original diagnosis: stress. Hoo-wee, it feels good to be right (probably).

    Cheryl was spot on with her reassurance this morning: “well, at least you’ve got plenty to spare.”

    Author’s note: Cheryl didn’t really say that. I got a little carried away.